#so keeping that up requires a level of maturity

[coldercreation]

I'm not normally one to do anything more than lurk on social media. But 2 days ago I got properly introduced to omegaverse content after being to intimidated for a while, yesterday I discovered Let Me Try, and now I am tearing through LINK content like a rabid dog.

So uh

Thanks?

I still wanted to ask some questions if thats okay.

What are canon ages of the boys at the time of Close your Eyes and Lock Me In?

Do you have an idea of a time gap between those two stories? They seem to be the main points of reference of the timeline

Hello! Yayy, LINK's caught another one!! You're very welcomee heheh<3

Like all the other specifics for the stories, their ages / locations / accents etc. are a bit vague on purpose. I like to leave the room for everyone’s own imagination based on what they’re familiar with. It makes things a bit fuzzy for the timeline sometimes, but I just prefer having the blurred reality instead of basing it on real places and tracking a firm timeline.

But generally, I eyeball the gap between CYE and LMT to be maybe a couple of years.

The later on in the timeline we get with the newer published parts, I’ve been thinking that Kizzy, as the oldest of the four, are now getting closer to the mid-twenties mark and maybe over. 

The age order is: Isac as the oldest (by two critical weeks🤺), then Kit, Liam’s a year younger, and then Nathan. -> Nat’s age difference to the others & the gap between the stories could technically vary +/- an extra year or so, depending on whatever length of uni you’d want to imagine.

So basically, the canon is vague and they are all twenty-ish something in CYE and LMT xx

[aemondsbabe]

Gevie

summary: you finally agree to go for a ride on sunfyre and your betrothed certainly makes it worth your while

pairing: aegon ii targaryen x reader

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, aegon being sickeningly sweet, oral (m receiving), fingering (f receiving), breast/nipple play, dirty talk, doin' it on a dragon, gratuitous use of valyrian

word count: 4.5k

a/n: finally proving to myself that i can remain semi-tame with the word count, i bet y'all thought i couldn't do it!! they're fucking around on a dragon. he gets road head, except it's on sunfyre. they're very cute.

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

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A high-pitched yelp rips its way from your throat as you feel Sunfyre move beneath you, stirring up dirt and dust from the floor of the Dragonpit as he beats his wings. Behind you, Aegon laughs, tightening his thighs around yours on the saddle and letting out an excited whoop as the dragon finally pushes off the ground. 

“Seven protect me!” You gasp, squeezing your eyes shut as soon as you see the world fall away beneath you as Sunfyre rises higher and higher into the air. 

“Eglikta, Sunfyre! Sȳz!” Aegon calls out, pulling at the reins on the dragon's saddle as he guides him up and out of the Dragonpit. “You need not be so worried,” he soothes you, his voice loud and clear behind you as he speaks over the air whipping around the two of you, “You are with a highly skilled rider, my lady.” He reminds you sarcastically. (Higher, Sunfyre! Good!)

You gasp loudly as Sunfyre tilts upward, making you lean heavily on Aegon, your back to his chest as the dragon flies higher into the air. “It is not the rider I am worried about!” You call over the rushing wind, not daring to open your eyes as you grasp onto the sturdy leather straps of the saddle, white knuckling the material. 

“Sunfyre is a part of me,” Aegon explains for the thousandth time, smiling as he steadies himself on the saddle, wide eyes flicking in every direction as he scans the skies, “I trust him with my life, and I trust him with you.”

This was a familiar argument, one you’d heard many times before over the previous months as Aegon tried time and time again to convince you to go riding with him; it was one of the first things he’d asked of you as soon as the courtship had been arranged nearly a year ago. 

You’d finally relented, much to the prince’s delight, when news of your marriage was officially announced. “Consider it an early wedding present, your grace,” you’d told him at the time. 

Oh, how you had come to regret those words now that your heart felt like it was in your throat, your hair whipping wildly in the air behind you as Sunfyre climbed ever higher. “M-My love,” you stuttered, trying your damnedest to keep your voice level, “Could we not stay closer to the ground?”

Aegon chuckled, his chest rumbling against your back even through the various layers you both wore to guard yourselves from the cold air. “Bē konīr, gaomagon jāre!” The prince spoke, Sunfyre grumbled beneath you in response. Although you did not understand the command, and certainly not the beast's response, you could feel the bond between your betrothed and his dragon — some invisible current connecting one to the other. (Almost there, keep going!)

“You should trust me more than this!” Aegon laughs, leaning forward to press a quick kiss to the side of your head, “You seemed to have plenty of it the night of the banquet last week,” he began in that brash, cocky tone you’d grown accustomed to, “When you let me shove my head up your dress in the gardens onc—"

“Aegon!” You chided, one hand abandoning the leather straps long enough to playfully swat him on the thigh. 

“What?” He asks, no doubt smirking deviously, “Surely there is no one to overhear us up here!” 

Suddenly, Sunfyre tilts forward, righting you in the saddle once again and making you let out an embarrassing squeal. “Gīda, Sunfyre! Dohaeris!” Some small amount of happiness at recognizing one of the words, dohaeris, manages to cut through the fear you feel, making you let out a small giggle. “Almost there, sweetling,” Aegon smiles, one of his hands abandoning the reins to wind around your waist instead, holding you securely to him, “You’ll love this.” (Calm, Sunfyre! Obey!)

Still squeezing your eyes shut, you nod wordlessly, tightly gripping onto his forearm, your thighs trembling around Sunfyre’s saddle. “Are we up very high?” You ask, your voice sounding small, even to your own ears. 

Aegon chuckles again, eyes scanning the horizon as the golden dragon finally breeches the clouds, “We’re just as high as we need to be, hush.” The vague answer makes you uneasy, but you do feel slightly calmer as you notice a change in the air. It’s calmer now, breezing around you like a soothing song, making your hair flutter about gently rather than whip at your face. It’s quieter too, you cannot even hear birdsong nor the rushing of air anymore, as if the two of you have entered a void. 

“Sȳz, Sunfyre. Gaomagon gīda.” Again, Sunfyre grumbles, his agreement to whatever Aegon commanded vibrating through your body. A moment later, the prince runs a hand through your hair, tenderly brushing it away from your face as he presses another light kiss to your cheek, one arm still holding onto you tightly. “Open your eyes, my love.” He says softly, resting his chin on your shoulder. (Good Sunfyre, keep steady.)

Cautiously, you do as he asks and slowly open your eyes. At first, you cannot see much, blinking to dispel the tears brought on by bright sunlight, but once your eyes finally adjust, you gasp. You can feel your eyes widen to the sight before you, one unlike any you’ve seen before. Aegon had brought you up above the clouds, the dreary grey skies that had once been above you now spread out below you like an endless pale sea. Up here, everything was so bright, slightly pink tinted from the sun, and so stunningly still and calm, the only movement coming from Sunfyre gliding through the air.

“Gods,” you breathe, your grip finally loosening somewhat on Aegon’s arm as you scan the skies before you, “Aegon, it’s…” You trail off, mouth hanging open at a loss for words. 

“Beautiful,” he finishes, though when you turn your head to him, his gaze is already fixed on you, the corners of his lips turned up into a barely there smile. 

You can feel your face heat up at his attention, suddenly all too aware of how much of your bodies are pressed together on the saddle, of how his arm is still wrapped so securely around you. Despite being so far up in the cool atmosphere, you can feel a blush creeping onto your cheeks, your heart beating faster as a pleasant, familiar coil starts spiraling in your stomach – your thighs tightening around the firm leather of the saddle in an attempt to press together. 

“You were right,” you smile contentedly at Aegon over your shoulder, “It is magical up here, my love. And so calm and quiet…” You let your voice trail off as you relax into his chest, his warmth encompassing you as Sunfyre continues gliding above the clouds, his beautiful golden scales gleaming in the early evening sunlight. 

Every once in a while, pockets in the thick cloud floor open up, giving you glimpses of green farmer’s fields, the blue water of lakes, or the dusty browns of the roads that litter Westeros. The pockets seem to zip by as quickly as they come, leaving you unsure of exactly where you are above the kingdoms. “I feel so far away from everything.” You conclude finally, a strange sense of calmness threading its way through the unease that still blankets your belly. 

“Precisely,” Aegon answers, a far-away look taking hold in his dark violet eyes, one you had grown used to seeing over the course of your courtship with the prince.

Now it seemed as if it was your turn to gaze at him instead of the view, letting him have a moment to himself as you admired him, eyes trailing over the gentle slope of his nose, the pout of his pink lips, the alabaster column of his neck. You couldn’t help but squeeze his forearm tighter, trying to ground him you suppose — ironic as it was — to save him from whatever snare he had been trapped in in his mind. 

All at once, whatever melancholy had taken hold of him seems to wash away with a small gasp as he comes back to himself, centering you with a calm smile, though to you it may as well be as dazzling as the sparkle of Sunfyre’s scales.

 “We are indeed far away up here, sweetling,” he drawls, the familiar smooth, cocky cadence back in his voice sending a shiver up your spine, butterflies erupting in your belly. “Away from court, away from guards,” he continues, trailing light kisses down the slope of your neck and onto your shoulder, relishing the way you sigh and go ever more limp against him, “Away from any prying eyes at all, really.” He finishes, raising his eyebrows in sarcastic surprise as he shrugs. 

You can’t help but laugh at his tone, morphing into an uncontained moan as his teeth lightly graze your shoulder, the hair on the back of your neck standing on end as your head tilts back against him. “Up here?” You ask, your voice already breathy.

He chuckles against you, low and dirty, “What better place is there, sweet girl?” He asks, rutting against you atop the saddle, making you gasp as you feel his hard length pressing against the small of your back, “There’s no one up here to stop us, no one to see us…” he husks, pressing wet kisses against your neck as his hand, the one not currently wrapped around you, abandons Sunfyre’s reins, coming instead to press against your breasts – his touch, even through your layers of clothing, making your nipples harden, the coil in your belly winding ever tighter. 

You whine as he touches you, unable to resist him even after all this time. “Aegon, please,” you whimper, gasping as you feel him unbuttoning your overcoat, sending a chill down your spine from the cold air against your skin. You’re unable to find it within yourself to care when you feel his warm hand, encased in a smooth leather glove, encompass your breast, lithe fingers immediately seeking out your nipple and teasing it relentlessly, “Oh, my love!” You gasp, grinding your hips down against the leather of Sunfyre’s saddle. 

He shushes you gently, teeth grazing against the side of your neck once more before you feel his lips curl into a smirk. Slowly, he removes his hand from where it’s nestled beneath your overcoat and dress, chuckling when you whine; quickly, he pulls off one of his riding gloves, tucking it securely into a coat pocket.  “Suck,” he says simply, pressing his fingers against your lips. You do as he says without complaint, running your tongue over the digits before properly sucking at them, moaning unabashedly when he presses them further against your tongue. “Gods,” he groans, voice deep and gravelly, “I love being in your sweet little mouth,” he murmurs, letting you suck contentedly for a moment longer, “Such a good girl, drooling around my fingers.”

His praise makes you moan, garbled around his fingers, as your eyes roll back in your head, your head bobbing as you suck, drool pooling at the corners of your lips as you lathe your tongue over his fingers. 

All too soon, he pulls them away, making you whine at the loss. However, that quickly turns into a loud, punched out moan when he resumes teasing your nipple, your spit instantly cooling in the air, which only serves to make the bud somehow harder. He groans with you as he spreads the slick around your breast, rutting his hard length against you.

“Sweetling,” he begins, a hint of taunting laughter in his voice, “Do you remember what we did during the last hunt? Hm? Hidden away in one of my tents?” 

You whimper, nodding as the memory floods back to you – the two of you sneaking away together during the final night of a large, week long, hunt, leaving everyone else feasting and dancing at the campfires. You were both giggling like children, half-drunk on Dornish wine, when you’d stumbled into one of Aegon’s tents, lips crashing together haphazardly in the dark. It had ended with you on your knees, taking the prince into your mouth as he leaned back against a storage chest, his hands tangled in your hair as your lips and tongue skirted up and down his length. 

The memory still floods you with arousal; it hadn’t been your first time pleasuring Aegon in that way, but it had been by far the most daring. “I have not felt your mouth on me in some time, my love,” he teases, moving you back against his length, still trapped in the confines of his trousers, “And we’re so hidden up here, no one to walk in and catch us, it would be a shame not to use the chance while we have it…”

Despite the circumstances, his offer is tempting; you love bringing him pleasure, love hearing the little gasps and moans he makes escape his lips. “How would we?” you ask, turning your head to look at him over your shoulder, his violet eyes full of desire, “All the way up here, I mean.”

“You trust me?” Aegon asks, placing both of his hands on your hips.

You nod instantly, not even needing to give his question a second of thought, “Of course, you know I do.” You answer truthfully. 

Smiling, he slowly moves his hands until they come to rest at your hips. “Gīda, Sunfyre.  Rȳbagon naejot nyke,” he commands the dragon before once again looking at you. “Okay, my love,” he taps one of your thighs, “Just bring this leg up and over the saddle, yeah? Like on a horse.” (Steady, Sunfyre. Listen to me.)

“Oh, definitely, just like on a horse,” you say sarcastically, an attempt to keep your nervousness at bay, which makes Aegon chuckle behind you. Slowly, you do as he says, leaning back onto him for support as you swing your leg up and over Sunfyre’s massive saddle, coming to sit side-saddle atop the beast. 

“Okay, good,” Aegon smiles, keeping his hands tight on your waist, “Now just turn…” He murmurs in concentration, patiently helping you turn your torso to face him, and sighing happily when you do. “And the other leg,” he commands, steadying you as you bring your opposite leg back over the saddle, “Perfect.” He praises you as you right yourself again, now facing him.

You give yourself a moment to breathe, getting used to facing the opposite direction. As soon as you look at the prince, though, that coil of arousal that was winding itself tight in your belly starts moving once again when you notice his eyes scanning over your chest, a sliver of your skin exposed from where your overcoat remains unbuttoned, your own underneath pulled to the side. 

His eyes meet yours, and he smirks when he notices your own arousal. All at once, the two of you crash together once again – lips colliding together as you moan into each other's mouths, hands grasping onto whatever parts of the prince you can reach; you bite his lip teasingly, making Aegon growl.

“Little minx,” he breathes against your neck as he kisses down your jaw, “Wanting to suck my cock so badly you’d risk life and limb on a dragon.” He teases, smirking when your hands shoot out to undo the ties and buttons at the top of his trousers.

Rolling your eyes, you finally manage to free his length, making him let out a relieved groan. You languidly stroke him for a moment, savoring the broken, choked off moans he breathes into your mouth, the flushed tip of his cock already leaking onto your hand. 

“Gods,” he groans lowly, his hips already fucking up into your hand, “Your mouth, my love, please!” He asks, his eyes squeezed shut.

Smirking, you kiss your way down his jaw before carefully leaning forward, pressing yourself against the firm leather saddle until your face is level with him. You give a quick kiss to the underside of the tip, right where you know a little sensitive ball of nerves lies, before you softly run your tongue over the head; you’re a goner as soon as the salty taste of him hits your tongue, losing yourself in the task as always. With a whimper, you begin bobbing your head up and down along his cock, one of your hands coming up to stroke the small bit at the base that you can’t fit in your mouth. 

One of Aegon’s hands comes up and wraps itself in your hair, pulling it back and away from your face as he grinds up into the heat of your mouth. “Fuck,” he moans, long and low as he tilts his head back, “So good, so good, fuck.” He repeats, already lost in the way you feel, in how dutifully you pleasure him – just like a good little wife should, and he knows you will be the best wife for him.

You close your eyes, head spinning with adrenaline as you continue pleasuring him, the hand at the base of his cock moving lower to cup his stones and gently roll them in your palm, just the way you know he adores. The effect is instantaneous, a punched-out groan wrenching itself from his throat as his abdomen contracts, making him jerk in your hold. You chuckle around him, drool slipping out of the corners of your mouth as you smile around his length, pleased to have reduced him to such a state already. 

The noises he’s making, along with the feel of him in your mouth, hot and heavy on your tongue, make you clench around nothing, whining onto his length, which catches his attention. You hear him chuckle above you, laughter turning to a pleasured hiss when you suck him deeper into your mouth, “Is having my cock in your mouth getting to you, sweetling?” He questions in the same cocky tone you’ve come to know so well, “Making your little bud ache?”

You nod around him as best you can, moaning around him when the hand in your hair clutches the strands tightly, leading you in the exact rhythm he wants as he ruts in and out of your mouth. He lets out a pleased hum, “I’ll take care of you, my love,” he promises, pressing you lower on his length, his eyes rolling back when he feels you spit and gag around him, “Fuck, just as soon as I finish down this pretty throat.”

At that, you redouble your efforts, moaning around his cock as you suck him down eagerly. He starts grumbling in Valyrian under his breath, a sure sign that he’s close, as if the way he was fisting your hair and panting into the cool air wasn’t enough of an indication. Right when he lets out a deep moan of your name, almost sounding in pain, you move the fist around his base faster and press your tongue to the sensitive underside of his head as you suckle on it, one of your hands tugging at his stones in just the right manner. 

“Fuck!” He spits out, his body tensing up as he presses you further down onto his cock, a deep, resonating growl leaving him at the same second that his hot seed spurts directly down your throat as his length pulses and twitches in your grasp. You moan at the familiar taste of him, your eyes slipping shut as you allow him to use your throat, swallowing down the last few drops of his seed while he whispers your name again and again in reverence. 

Finally, his hips stop twitching and the hand in your hair falls limp, allowing you to pull away from him. You sit up, moaning in surprise when he immediately tangles his hands in your hair again and pulls your face to his, uncaring that you’d swallowed down his spend mere seconds before as he bites your lip and tangles your tongue with his. 

You press yourself against him, sighing when you feel the warmth of his chest against yours, his body somehow hot despite the temperature, as if lit from within like Sunfyre. “Such a good wife,” he sighs against your lips, “How have I come to deserve you?”

“We are not yet married!” you laugh, shaking your head as you marvel at him, taking in the way his cheeks are still lightly flushed.

“A moon's time is close enough,” he shrugs, violet eyes gazing at you with adoration, though growing darker when he catches the sliver of your chest still exposed where your coat is open, “Turn back around.” He whispers suddenly, his voice husky. 

You don’t bother questioning him, simply nodding, although his hands are already back on your waist, helping you turn back around on the dragon’s saddle.

“Need to touch you,” he explains anyway, contently humming, low in his chest, when you’re pressed against him once more, “Need to make you feel good – you deserve to feel good.” He babbles, mostly talking to himself as he skirts his hands over your body. “Lenton sir, Sunfyre. Soves!” He commands, grabbing at the reins with his still-gloved hand, coaxing the large beast into a slow, smooth turn, although he still held you tightly to him until the dragon was once again gliding – his huge, rosy wings slicing through the air with practiced ease. (Home now, Sunfyre. Go!)

“Where –”

“Home,” Aegon huffs, fingers desperately tugging open the remaining buttons on your coat, frantically pushing the fabric out of the way as soon as the last one is pulled undone, eager to get his hands on your soft skin.

“But –” You start, only to be cut off as he groans impatiently, practically ripping the skirts of your dress in an effort to push them to the side, exposing your smallclothes.

“We’ll have time, sweetling,” he breathes, pushing a hand into the thin fabric, groaning when he feels how wet your slick folds are, so warm against his skin, “It’s not like it takes me long to bring you pleasure.” You can hear the boastful pride dripping from his low voice as he speaks against the side of your neck, his warm breath sending a shiver up your spine as your back arches against him.

“Oh!” You gasp as you feel his fingers finally touching you, immediately zeroing in on your aching, swollen bud with a practiced ease, sending electricity zipping up your spine. 

“Ooh, someone’s sensitive,” he teases, rubbing tight, wet circles against you as his gloved hand finds its way into your coat again, yanking down the fabric of your dress before he cups your breast, kneading the delicate skin in time with the ministrations to your cunt, “Do you enjoy my fingers, sweetling?”

 You nod, already panting heavily in his grasp, your body going from rigid to pliant as you moan unabashedly in the air, not needing to be mindful of your volume all the way up here – Sunfyre as your only witness seems wholly uninterested. He chuckles against your neck as he bites at the sensitive skin, the small pinpricks of pain only adding to the pleasure radiating from your core. 

You buck up against him as you feel two of his fingers venture lower, prodding at the opening of your slick heat, gathering some of the wetness there before roughly pushing them into you. You grunt out a curse as you feel them enter you completely, Aegon not bothering to tease them into you as he usually does and instead pressing incessantly against that rough spot within you that makes you see stars. 

“Aegon, my love,” you whimper, grinding your hips against his hand, his thumb catching against your bud as his fingers continue tormenting your center, scissoring and curling within you, “I’m–” You cut yourself off, unable to finish a thought with the way he’s handling you.

“I know you’re close,” he grunts, his hands moving frantically against you as you shake against his chest, one hand plucking and pinching at your nipple as the other fucks into your squelching wet heat, “I can feel this lovely cunt squeezing me.”

“Yes, yes, yes, fuck!” You cry in time with the thrusts of his hand, your head tilting back onto his shoulder as you feel your high creeping ever closer, the fire in your belly growing to a blazing, roaring inferno. 

He laughs lowly as he mouths at the spot just below your ear, never tiring of being able to reduce you to such a base state, moaning and writhing in his arms. “Go on, sweetling,” he coaxes you, fingers rubbing up against that rough patch within you ceaselessly as his thumb circles your bud in the same rhythm, “Let yourself have it – you’re so close, let yourself feel good, my good girl, my love.” He begs between love bites, panting against your neck as you fuck yourself against his fingers. 

“Aegon!” You cry, your eyes squeezing shut as your entire body tenses with a sob, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as wave after wave of pleasure crashes into you. Your walls grip desperately at his fingers, coating his hand in your sweet juices as stars explode behind your eyelids, a vicious, loud moan punching out of your chest at the intensity of your high. 

Eventually, the waves begin to subside, leaving you whimpering pathetically against him as he continues gently pleasuring you, helping you ride out your peak for as long as your body will allow. After a moment though, his fingers finally come to a stop when he hears your small whimpers and whines, indicating that his touches are bordering on overstimulating you. 

He coos lovingly, soothing you with soft touches and kisses against your cheek as he licks your spend from the hand that had been fucking you, savoring your taste with drawn out, dirty moans, taking pleasure in the way it made you blush and squirm like you were still the innocent maiden everyone believes you to be. 

“Ñuha gevie ābrazȳrys,” Aegon murmurs after a moment, violet eyes studying you as he peeks from over your shoulder, “Nyke daor umbagon naejot dīnagon ao.” (My beautiful wife, I cannot wait to marry you.)

You don’t know what the words mean but they sound so beautiful coming from his pouty lips that you cannot help the blush that blooms on your cheeks, the sight making him chuckle. 

“Look,” he says, pointing into the distance, “You’ll love this.” 

Following the tip of his finger, you narrow your eyes, not seeing anything for a second. Just as you’re about to inquire as to what exactly you’re supposed to be looking at, you gasp, watching with wide eyes as the tallest tower of the Red Keep emerges from behind a cloud. 

“Seven,” you whisper, watching as the rest of the large fortress is slowly revealed, followed by the large domes of the Dragonpit and the Sept of Baelor, “Oh, Aegon…it’s beautiful.” You whisper, eyes sweeping over the entirety of King’s Landing, from the waves of the shores of Blackwater Bay all the way to small houses of farmers that lie beyond the city walls, all bathed in the golden, pinky lighting of the setting sun. 

“Gevie,” he breathes, gaze entirely fixed on you, on the way you hands grasp his, “Gevie ābrazȳrys.” (Beautiful, beautiful wife)

tagged lovelies: @helloworldiamnotarobot @drakonflames @avalyaaa @fan-goddess @hopelesswritergall @toms-cherry-trees @aemshaircare @cuddlejeongin @imaegontatgaryenwife0 @valeskafics @beautbuck @watercolorskyy @marysucks-blog

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[musings-of-a-rose]

Marcus

Pairing: Marcus (Pike, Moreno, Acacius) x f!reader

Word Count: 6900+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 

Notes: I saw a post from @pimosworld innocently asking for a Marcus bachlorette style fic and, while this isn't exactly right, this is what my brain came up with. Shoutout to @mermaidxatxheart for listening to me ramble and helping me, as well as @vanemando15 for being a cheerleader!

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**Reader is not described

Main Masterlist

Marcus Moreno Masterlist

Marcus Pike Masterlist

Marcus Acacius Masterlist

“Thanks for coming to Level Up Comics!” I smile at the customer as I hand them their bag, a quiet grunt all I get in return before they head out the door, the little bell jingling with their exit. I stretch, walking around from behind the counter and heading back towards the display case where several boxes sit in front, unopened figurines and collectibles pouring from them. My family and friends thought I was crazy for opening a physical media store in this age of digital products. They said no one would come in let alone want to actually buy “this crap.”

But here I am, a few years after opening, and I’m doing pretty good for myself. There are still collectors out there who want their favorites in case something happens to their files. They want the figurines from the original manufacturers, rather than printing them themselves. I can’t blame them. There’s something different, something magical about reading the printed word, having a figure of your favorite character that was made decades ago by something other than a 3D printer in someone’s basement.

The bell jingles and I yell out a greeting, shoving a few more figures in the back of the case before standing and turning, a pair of dark brown eyes meeting mine. I can already feel the smile on my face. 

“Hi, Marcus!” Shit, was that too enthusiastic? If it is, he doesn’t let on, his own smile shyly spreading across his face. “How…how are you?”

He rubs the back of his neck with his large hand, his eyes darting away from mine. “I’m..I’m good. You?”

“Good. That’s good. I mean, I’m good. Good. It’s all…good.” What the fuck?

He chuckles lightly, looking anywhere but at me. “Good.”

We’re both silent for several moments. He’s so hot. Way out of my league hot. And the weird thing is, I don’t even think he realizes just how attractive he is. 

“Did my back issue of X-Men come in?”

“Oh!” I slap my forehead. “I almost forgot! Yes. Let me get that for you.” Trying desperately to hide the heat in my cheeks, I quickly walk around the counter, kneeling to sift through the special order pile. 

“You got more figures in?”

“Yeah,” I yell from my crouched position. “There’s a few bins in the back I haven’t emptied yet. Feel free to have a look!” 

“Thanks.” I hear him shuffle off towards the back of the shop just as I locate his order. The door bell dings again and I stand, smoothing down my jeans. A man stands at the counter, his bright blue eyes roaming up and down my body before her plasters on the most ingenuine smile I’ve ever seen. 

“Hi. How can I help you?” I ask him as I place Marcus’s order on the counter.

 “Hi beautiful. I’m looking for a comic.”

I internally sigh. I already know where this is going. It happens several times a week.

“Well you’ve come to the right shop. What are you looking for?”

He chuckles, intending to be endearing. It isn’t. “I’m looking for a very specific issue of Hawkeye. You know who that is?”

Seriously? “I am very familiar with Hawkeye. Are you?”

He scoffs. “Haha. You’re a funny, pretty thing. Anyway, I’m looking for a specific run of his. Do you know what that means?”

Anger surges through me and I grip the desk to ground myself. Out of the corner of my eye I see Marcus at the back of the store, standing and turning towards us but not moving. He’s even hot in my peripheral. 

“Which run are you looking for? Or are you wanting a recommendation?”

He laughs, the vile sound of it echoing off the walls. “A recommendation? From you? What would you know? You’re just a pretty little girl.”

A clunk from the back of the store and I see Marcus trip over one of the boxes. He doesn’t go down, but turns to fix the boxes that he’s kicked over. The man in front of me is unphased, his eyes still on me, an amused smile tugging at his lips.

“Well?” He spits out. 

I look at him, giving him a smile. “Well, if you’re asking me personally, my favorite run is the Matt Fraction run. Not only because of his artistic style and great story, but the fact that they weaved in Clint’s deafness, drawing him wearing his hearing aids, and even doing an entire issue completely in American Sign Language. A great story and representation of a marginalized community from, in my opinion, one of the best and most relatable Avengers. Now, would you like the individual issues, an omnibus, or the digital version?”

The smug smile slowly fades from his face, his eyes hardening. “You don’t have to be such a bitch.”

“I do when customers act like a bitch.” 

He grabs the fliers on the counter and throws them at me, turning towards the door. “Fuck you and this place!” He tries to slam the door behind him but he fumbles with the handle, flipping me off one final time before disappearing around the corner. 

I sigh, bending down to pick up the fliers. A hand reaches out, large and inviting, carefully helping me pick up the scattered papers. I look up at him, at Marcus, sweet Marcus. Who had heard all of that. 

“I’m sorry Marcus. I shouldn’t have lost my cool.”

He hands me the small stack he’s collected, meeting my gaze. “You don’t have to apologize for standing up to a sexist asshole. I should be the one who’s sorry.”

I combine our stacks, both of us standing as I tap them on the counter to even them out. “Why should you apologize?”

“I should’ve come to help,” he rubs the back of his neck, his ear turning slightly pink. 

I shake my head. “No, Marcus don’t worry about it. I get assholes like that all the time. Really, it’s ok.”

He shakes his head. “It’s really not-”

To my own surprise, I reach out and squeeze his arm. “Really, I’m ok. Thank you, Marcus.”

He smiles at me, opening his mouth to say something, but his phone rings from inside his pocket. “Sorry. Sorry.” He pulls it out, tapping on the clear screen only he can see. “Shit. I have to take this. Work. You sure you’re ok?”

I smile, trying not to show my sadness at his leaving. “I am. Hope everything’s ok at work.”

“Thanks. I’ll uh…see you around.” His eyebrows pull together as his phone rings again, his eyes moving down to the screen before he turns around and heads out the door, pausing to give me a wave through the window before he disappears into the crowd. 

I’ll never meet a man owning this shop. They’re either assholes, taken, or hopelessly out of my league. My own phone beeps and I pull it out, scanning the clear screen with my reservation confirmation. I tap the confirm button, nerves flooding my system. 

I can’t believe I signed up for a virtual version of the bachelorette.

—----

I closed the shop early and rushed home to get ready for that night. I arrive promptly at 7pm as they requested, the giant VIRTUAL LIFE logo on the side of the building bathing the sidewalk in bright blue light. I take a deep breath and walk inside, the door disappearing momentarily to let me in before reappearing behind me. The front desk assistant guides me to a row of elevators and instructs me to head to floor 28. I’m the only one in the elevator, the lights illuminating each floor as we pass it. The elevator stops and the doors open to a small waiting room, black leather couches and chairs surround a coffee table with several tablets, each loaded with some form of entertainment. While it looks like there are windows, if you look closely, you can tell they’re simulated, trying to grant us as much privacy as possible. Although, I think it may be more about guarding their own technology secrets. 

“Ivy?” a woman calls my name from the only doorway in the room aside from the elevator. I nod, standing and smoothing down my dress. 

“That’s me.”

“Right this way.” She leads me into another small office, a simple desk with a single chair for me to sit in. She sits opposite me at the desk, tapping in mid air at what I’m assuming is the computer screen in front of her. 

“Ivy it says here you signed up for the bachelorette program to meet a compatible mate. Is that correct?”

Swallowing down my embarrassment, I nod. “Y-yeah.”

She taps a few more things. “Great. Do you know how this works?”

“You guys take a picture of my brain and show me a story?”

She chuckles, the first time her professional demeanor has broken. “Almost but not quite. After we’re done here, you will be taken to the simulation room. You’ve already done your physical-”

“Yeah. They had me put on this suit and they captured the way I moved. Motion capture, I think?”

She nods. “Yes that’s it exactly. This way, your avatar inside your world will move like you. It helps with immersion.” I nod. “They also completed your brain scan to find the most viable dates and look of mate that you are searching for. You indicated you’re looking for a male mate, is that correct?”

I nod. “Yeah. Yes.”

She nods. “Alright. If you’ll go through the door, someone in scanning will take you. Good luck!” She gestures to a door on the opposite wall from where we entered. I go through the door and another woman greats me, leading me to chair where she has me sit and get comfortable. It reminds me of what the dentist chairs used to look like except way more comfortable. She turns to me, holding a helmet with different little lights on it. 

“Any questions?”

“Yeah. So what will he..I mean, how will I know who he is?”

“You will just know. Sort of like in a regular video game, where you can tell who is important to talk to.”

“Ok..but…will he look like him or?”

That’s reassuring. But then she interrupts my thoughts. “Don’t forget, he will be there too also looking for you.”

She shakes her head. “Your algorithm took in your scan and will give him the appearance of someone you find appealing or comforting. We’ve found it’s easier to accept someone if they have an outward appearance you’re already familiar with.”

“So you base connections on personality as opposed to looks?”

She nods. “Those relationships have the highest success rate, so yes.”

“And after, will you show me who he is?”

She nods. “In the simulation, you’ll go on 3 dates. They may be something as simple as communicating in an office to being a superhero or even traveling back in time. The algorithm takes both of your likes, dislikes, and desires and places you in situations. The more you play along and immerse yourself, or yourselves, into the simulation, the better the outcome, meaning a closer connection. And don’t worry - you cannot be physically harmed. And if it’s too much or you want to stop, you only need to say “End simulation”. Please be aware that time may pass differently in the simulation, but you will only be in for an hour. After, you will both meet here, in reality, and can determine whether you’d like to continue with a relationship or not. Any more questions?”

I shake my head. “I don’t think so. Not at the moment, anyway.”

She places the helmet on my head, the nodes all changing different colors as it comes in contact with me. She squeezes my shoulder and I look up at her. “Just relax and try to go with the theme. It’s more fun that way, ok?”

I nod, wiping my sweaty palms on my dress. “Yeah. Makes sense.”

“Good luck!” She taps a button on her clear screen and my vision fades to black so just a couple of seconds. But then I’m blinking awake, the tips of my fingers tingling and my toes feeling like they just woke up. My vision starts to clear and the room comes into focus. I’m sitting at a bar, a fancier bar, which explains the nice dress. As my hearing levels out, I realize that the blonde man to my right is talking to me, his body shifted in my direction. His grey eyes are slightly unsettling. This can’t be my mate, can it? 

“...and so I had them fired! Can you imagine? I asked for my steak to be medium and they brought it out medium well. That will teach that guy to listen to the customer at his next job.” Grey Eyes chuckles and takes a sip of the drink in front of him. He nods towards the glass in front of me. “Do you want another?”

“What? Oh, uh sure.” 

He flags the bartender down and orders a rum and coke before making a show of leaning on his beefy arm against the bar. “I’m glad you finally saw reason and agreed to come out with me tonight.”

I give him a small smile. “Yeah. Same here.” This doesn’t feel right. Maybe they got it wrong? Someone bumps into me from behind and grey eyes catches me, glaring at the person who bumped me, who had moved on. 

“Are you ok?”

“Yeah. It’ll take more than a drunk asshole to bring me down.” Grey Eyes laughs, picking up his glass and holding it up towards me. “I’ll drink to that.” I glance down to grab my drink, only to find it wasn’t there. I look back at Grey Eyes and see him frozen in place, the smirk on his face completely gone, his glass shaking as he continues to hold it in mid air. My glass appears next to his, lightly clicking against his glass. 

“Now that’s not very nice.” That voice. I would know his voice anywhere. My entire body relaxes as I turn to look into the dark brown eyes that I love so much.

“Marcus!” I exclaim, ignoring the vein in grey eye’s neck that’s threatening to pop. Marcus on the other hand, looks good. I mean, he always looks good to me but he’s dressed in nice black pants and a light blue button up shirt with matching black jacket. I’m not sure how a blue shirt makes his brown eyes pop, but it does. Marcus pushes his black frames up his nose.

“Hey, Ivy. Sorry to interrupt your date, but this not so kind gentlemen put a little something in your drink.”

“He what?” I blink rapidly a few times, trying to pry my eyes away from him. Grey Eyes vein relaxes somewhat and he sputters out.

“Fuck you man! We’re on a date! What….what are you doing to me?”

Marcus shrugs. “Well, you wanted to make it so she can’t move. Only fair if I return the favor.” 

Grey Eyes goes to say something else, but then seems to recognize the man standing next to me, his eyes going wide.

“Aren’t you the guy that can move metal?”

My eyes snap to Marcus, who is smiling. “I see I have a fan.”

Grey Eyes tries to backtrack. “Listen, man. I’m sorry. I was just trying to get her to loosen up a bit. Have some fun.”

Marcus looks at me, his brown eyes wide and smiling. “Ivy, do you wish to continue your date with this man?”

“Nope.” I pop the “p” sound at the end of the word. “Little hard to have fun when my date is trying to render me unconscious.”

Marcus waves the bartender over. “Call the police. This man is in possession of Freeze Me.”

 A handful of what felt like seconds later, several officers show up and arrest Grey Eyes, who barely puts up a struggle. I turn towards Marcus, my smile stretching my face as I grab his arm. “My hero.”

His eyes dart around the room, his arm coming up to rub at the back of his neck. “It was nothing.”

Gosh he’s so cute when he does that neck rub thing. Wait. Gotta play along. 

“Is Marcus the Metal Bender actually acting shy around me?”

He chuckles nervously and I think how perfect they coded him. Like he was picked out of my brain. Which I guess he was. 

“Just trying to be respectful.”

I wish he wouldn’t. Wait, are we even allowed to have sex in here? Wow, getting ahead of yourself there, Ivy.

“Youwannagetoutofhere?” He speaks so fast it all comes out in a jumble and I cock my head to the side. 

“What?”

He swallows hard and I can’t help but watch his Adam’s apple bob in his throat. “Do you want to get out of here?”

“Hell yeah I do.” 

—-

It’s a few weeks later, or at least it feels like some time has passed. That lady did say time passes differently here. Now I’m in an office building, a stack of files in my arms, walking down the hall. A quick glance around tells me I’m in the Heroics head quarters. Marcus appears from around the corner and looks up at me, smiling and walking towards me. But then a man in a much too tight blue suit with a glowing M on it joins him, Marcus’s shoulders sagging slightly as he gives me a sad little wave.

“When are you two going to go on a date already?” A woman with bright pink hair appears next to me. 

“I uh, me?”

She slaps my shoulder. “Yes, you Ivy.” She leans in closer to my ear. “Aren’t you the one who confessed to having a crush on our heroic leader?”

I will the heat rising in my face to not show. “Oh, I uh..I-”

“You know he likes you too.” Her jaw drops when she sees the confused look on my face. “Oh don’t tell me you can’t tell! That man can hardly look at you and he’s taken down alien forces by just staring at them.”

She feels like a close friend so I go with it. “Yeah, ok I like him. Keep your voice down, will you?” She continues walking with me to the end of the hall where I deposit the stack of files into several slots, each one making a small whoosh sound as they’re whisked away to their destinations.

When I’m done, Pink Hair gently grabs my face and turns me to her. “I love you, Ivy. You know you’re like the sister I never had. So please listen to me when I say ask that man out before something happens and you regret not ever trying.”

Well fuck. That is…really spot on to reality isn’t it? 

I never get a chance to answer her as the entire building suddenly shakes, alarms and lights screeching and illuminating the halls. One of the tall filing cabinets starts to topple in my direction and I can only look on in horror, frozen in place by the rumbling building. I throw my hands up, as if that’s going to stop it, but nothing happens. The cabinet is laid gently on its side, floating to the ground. 

“Come on!” I look up into those dark eyes, Marcus extending his hand to me and helping me to my feet. “We have to get out of here!” He tightens his grip and somehow leads us out of the chaotic building out into the streets. Which is also nuts. People are running everywhere and…wait. Is that an alien spaceship coming towards us??

Marcus pulls me behind a wall, glancing around it and waving hand signals to a small group of heroes across the street behind another wall, Pink Hair amongst them. He turns back to me, his face full of worry as he starts to take his shirt off, exposing…not skin but a uniform? No. His hero costume, which is a black shirt,and arm bands. He sees me staring down and he shrugs. “I normally have a tach vest but we’re out of time.” 

“Should you not go out there without one?”

Marcus shakes his head. “I have to support my team. And I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe. I mean, people safe.”

“You could just stay here with me? The others can handle-” my words are cut off by a giant laser beam cutting through the street, coming directly from the ship. 

He takes my hand and squeezes it. “Get yourself to safety. Don’t worry about me, I’ll be fine. I need you to be safe.” Another laser beam, the sound of some smaller buildings crumbling to the ground. “Go! Get to safety!” He releases my hand. 

I get a glimpse of the deep craters that lasers had left in their wake through the cement of the street, the piles of rubble and dust, and this spurs me on.

“Marcus?” He leans against the wall, readying himself, but he looks at me. 

“Yeah?”

Mustering up my courage, I lean towards his hunched body, softly planting a kiss on his lips. When I pull back, I see his chest heaving, his eyes moving between mine.

“Please make it back, Marcus.”

Before he can answer, the ship comes into view and his team moves out, following behind Miracle Guy, who had flown right up the ship and started punching it. Marcus’s head whips around, assessing the situation and I squeeze his arm once more before quickly moving out of the immediate area. I know I should move more, but I can’t get hurt so… 

The fight that ensues between the ship, the aliens inside, and the Heroics team is nothing short of brilliant. They may argue in the halls, but in the field, they all take direction from Marcus, who is a brilliant leader, playing all of their strengths. Marcus bends metal like it’s made of playdough, a beautiful dance of destruction and strength. Then the ship comes crashing down, everyone moving out of the way except-

“Marcus!” I emerge from my hiding place at a full run as the smoke around the alien ship that’s currently scraping along the road as it crashes and envelops Marcus. The ship stops, groaning as it falls back and lays still, no other life forms moving or detected on board. For a few moments, no one moves. Then Marcus emerges from the smoke, his face soot stained and a small gash in his shirt and along his cheek, but otherwise unharmed. 

“Marcus!” I run to him, his eyes finding mine, his entire body relaxing as he realizes I’m safe, just before I launch myself into his arms, our lips crashing together as my right hand fists in his shirt, my left tugging on his hair. Miracle Guy wolf whistles but I couldn’t care less. I feel his tongue gently lick out and I part my lips, letting him take whatever he wants. But before it can go any further, my vision starts to blacken, the last thing I see is Marcus’s eyes going out of focus as he succumbs to his own transition to the next simulation.

—----

I find myself blinking awake for the second time in what feels like weeks, but I know in reality it’s only been maybe 20 minutes that I was in there. The tips of my fingers and toes are tingling, my vision and hearing clearing and I find myself in…a breakroom. Am I back at the Heroics? The slight weight in my hand takes my focus and I realize I’m holding a cup of tea. I must be on my break. I walk towards the floor-to-ceiling windows, looking outside. I’m not back at Heroics - the cityscape is all wrong. I hear the door open behind me and I turn, the smile on my face widening as Marcus enters the room. His hair is shorter than the last simulation. And his face is clean shaven, which is a look I’ve never seen on him before. Not that it matters - he’s beautiful no matter what. I wonder what he’ll look like when he’s a little older. Probably hot as-

“Hey, Ivy.” Marcus smiles down at me, grabbing his own mug and pouring a cup of coffee from the carafe. I notice the FBI logo on the mug and figure that must be where we are.

“Hey,  Marcus.” I take a sip of my tea as we both watch the other. But then the door opens again, another agent walking into the room. He claps his hands together, looking at us.

“Hey! Congrats on finally cracking that art case, you two! 8 months is a long time to do an operation like that. Great work!” He shakes both of our hands as we thank him. Marcus catches my eye and, with a small movement, jerks his head towards the door. I nod, thanking the other agent again and follow Marcus out of the tiny breakroom and down the hall, stopping in front of an office door labeled MARCUS PIKE. I wonder if that's his name back In reality. He extends his arm towards his office and I head inside, smiling at him as I do, noting how his eyes dart around, that hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck as he closes the door behind him.

“I uh…great work, Ivy.” 

“You too.” 

He puts his hands in his pockets and finally looks me in my eyes and he nods once. 

“Listen. Do you..uh..I mean, would you like to…this is coming out all weird.”

I squeeze his arm and he looks down at my hand, taking a deep breath. 

“Would you like to get something to eat?”

My stomach erupts in butterflies. “Like on a date?”

The redness in his eyes spreads down onto his cheeks as he stammers, gesturing around vaguely. “No! No, not uh. Not a date.”

I can feel my face falling. “Oh.”

“Uh, unless you…uh…unless you want to? Make it a…a date?” His eyes are wide and bright, like a damn puppy. 

I smile, tucking some hair behind my ear. “Yeah. Yeah, I would love to go on a date with you, Marcus.” 

His smile is bright, lighting up the room. “Yeah?”

“Yes.”

He let's out a sigh of relief. “Great! I found this great pancake place.”

Pancakes? I love this man already. “It's nearly dinner time!” I can't help the small giggle that I let out. 

“Yeah, well you said your favorite food is pancakes. And they're open 24 hours.”

He remembered my favorite food? I'm so screwed. Damn this program is good. “You're right! I'd love to get pancakes with you. On a date. For a date. When will this date be, by the way?”

“Oh. I uh, would it be too weird if we went tonight? Is that too soo-”

“No! I mean, yes! No it's not too soon. I'd love to go!” If my heart could stop beating through my chest, that would be great. It's not that I'm some young girl getting asked on her first date. I just really like Marcus. Or whomever this is. My heart sinks at the thought of it not being the Marcus I know in reality. 

“Great! I'll pick you up at 7? Unless you'd rather meet me there? I don't want you to be uncomfortable.”

“Marcus, we just spent 8 months together on assignment. I think I'm comfortable around you.”

He chuckles. “Fair point.” His office phone rings and he apologizes to me, picking it up. I wave ro him and he mouths “See you at 7!”

—----

He picks me up with a flourish of flowers, all long legs and button up shirt that I'm really dying to unbutton. If that's even allowed here. 

But what's more than that is the conversation. I thought I had learned everything about him over the last 8 months. I was very wrong. 

“You were a bass player in a band?” I ask, choking on my drink.

He laughs, holding his hands up in front of him. “What can I say? I wanted to meet more people.”

“I bet you had all the girls hanging on you.”

Marcus shrugs. “Not really. They all want to date the drummer or the singer.”

“Really? Not the sexy bass player?”

Marcus takes too large of a sip of his drink and coughs, pounding his chest. “No, not the…you think I'm sexy?”

I set my fork down and meet his eyes. “If I didn't like you, I wouldn't be here.”

We spend several moments, just looking at each other and then I remember that he's not a simulation but a real person on the other end of those eyes. My heart squeezes thinking about how it won't actually be Marcus. Despite that thought, we really get along well and the conversation flows freely between us. Sooner than I’d like, we’re leaving the small diner, heading back to my place. Marcus parks in my driveway and turns to me, his eyes bright and wide like a damn puppy. We had been talking about books, one of my favorite topics.

“..and I know everyone complains that Tolkien takes 20 pages to describe a flower, but I really love that attention to detail. It makes it more immersive for me. One of these days I’ll get you to read Lord of the Rings!” I tap my fingers on his bicep to emphasize my point.

Marcus rubs his neck. “I uh…I already have.”

My jaw drops. “What? When??”

“When you told me it was your favorite book. Or books, I should say.”

I think back. “Marcus, that was…months ago!”

His eyes meet mine, the light from the street lamp outside adding a sparkle to them. “You said they were your favorite so…I read them.”

My stomach does flips, my heart beating. “You read them all for me?”

He nods. “Even the Silmarillion.”

I can’t help it. This is so fucking hot. I reach out and grip his shirt, pulling him to me, his soft lips pressing against mine, the heat between us quickly rising. His large hand cradles the back of my head, holding me to him as his other hand settles on my hip, squeezing it lightly. We make out for several minutes, Marcus kissing and nipping a path down my neck. 

“Do you want to come in?” I ask breathlessly. 

He pulls back and looks at me. “I do but-” he whispers. “Are we allowed?”

“I…I’m not sure. We could try to-” 

But then my vision starts to blacken around the edges, and before I pass out, I hear Marcus say “See you in the next one!” before we both black out.

—----

Now familiar with the way I wake in these simulations, I wiggle my fingers and toes, giving myself a moment to figure out where I am. The room looks…ok, this isn’t from my time. Roman decor and pillars line the grand bedroom, some food laying on a small table for, I’m assuming, me. A quick glance down shows me in a beautiful white garb and I marvel for a moment at how clean it is. 

BOOM!

The ground shakes and I duck down, completely caught off guard. It’s only after the boom dies down that I hear it - the distant sound of clanking swords and men yelling. I walk to the small window set into the wall and look out, my brain taking a moment to process the scene in front of me. 

I’m several floors up in a sort of round building, a castle I realize as I see the lower tiers, more square in their shape. I’m sure the grounds would have been beautiful, if it weren’t for the massive amounts of soldiers fighting in the streets. I can make out their bodies, the blood, sweat, and dirt spreading almost like a disease. Spear and swords burst from chests or stomachs, limbs separating from their bodies to be lost to the throngs of soldiers. The seem to be moving closer to the castle, which I’m not sure if I want to happen or not. Turning on my sandaled heel, I walk to the door, pressing my ear against the wood to listen. Hearing nothing, I try to open it. Nothing. The door doesn’t open or move, the handle locked into place.

Well, fuck. 

Before I can try and figure out how far down the next ledge is out the window, or if I can even fit out the window, I hear a commotion outside my door. It’s not loud, but I hear a man gurgling and sputtering, a small bit of crimson blood pooling under the door. I grab an iron rod by the fire and hold it up, preparing to defend myself. I know they said I can’t be hurt but damn this feels real. The door opens and a man walks through, wide, muscular shoulders under his Roman armor, Medusa proudly engrained on the front. I lunge, the iron rod above my head but the man turns and grabs the rod and I  would’ve fallen to the floor if he hadn’t caught me.

“Ivy! Here you are!” 

It’s him. Marcus. Only he’s older, probably closer to 50. Grey streaks in his curls and patchy facial hair only accentuate his beauty, a new scar forming across his nose, bleeding lightly down his face. He’s covered in dirt and blood and ash, but I throw my arms around him anyway.

“Marcus! Thank God, what’s going on?”

He cups my face, pushing my hair out of my face. “You are so beautiful, my love. I would bring every army from the entire world to rescue you from this horrid Emperor.” And then his lips are on mine, urgency behind them, but a desire to show me how l much I am loved. This man apparently started the battle outside, for me, and still wants to make sure that I know how important I am to him? 

“We have to flee. Come!” But before we can leave, the door flies open and 5 guards file in, grabbing Marcus and holding his arms out to his sides. I pick the iron rod up from the floor and run towards them, unsure of what I would do but I know I’ll beat the shit out of them until they let him go. But another hand shoots out and grabs my wrist, twisting it hard so I drop the rod. I look up into the eyes of a man that I’m assuming is the Emperor, his golden robes flowing around him. He looks vaguely familiar, like that one asshole from the comic shop.

“Now, now my dear. What were you planning on doing with that?”

I open my mouth to reply, but then he smacks me across the face and I slam down onto the floor. Ok, that hurt. Didn’t she say I wouldn’t get hurt? Maybe she meant I wouldn’t die. Marcus swears, cursing the Emperor for hitting me. 

“Are you alright, my love?” Marcus grunts as the men punch him in the stomach. 

“Marcus, Marcus, Marcus. You’re kind are dying out. I told you to just accept your fate and take your banishment, but instead, you stayed behind and fell in love with a woman. How…stupid.” Marcus tries to speak but he’s punched again, his body hunching over. I try to stand, but then I’m drug up by my hair, the Emperor’s fingers digging at my scalp as he pulls me to his side. 

“This one?” His eyes rake over my body. “She is attractive, I’ll give you that. Even if she is attracted to a brute like you.” I jerk my body, trying to get out of his grip but it’s too tight, my hands gripping his arms to try and get some relief from the stinging at the back of my scalp.

“Let her go. You can kill me, I don’t care, but let her go.”

The Emperor looks from me to Marcus, a sick smile spreading on his face. “I didn’t go through the trouble of kidnapping her just to have you give up. So I’ll tell you what I’ll do instead. LOOK AT ME!” The Emperor bellows from beside me, Marcus’s eyes moving from mine to his. 

He steps closer to Marcus, dragging me a little beside him. “Such a wild man. How about this: you watch as I take her. Then, I’ll drive my sword through her belly so she can slowly bleed out on the floor. Only after the light has left her eyes will I either kill you or lock you up to suffer the rest of your days. How does that sound?”

The darkness that settles over Marcus is unforgiving, his eyes hardening in resolution. He growls and screams, throwing the soldiers off him as he grabs his sword from the ground, swinging it and taking out all of the soldiers in only a handful of moves. He spins, aiming his sword at the Emperor, who has now moved me in front of him as a human shield, a knife to my throat. 

“I’ll kill her, Marcus! You are too weak to save her!”

Marcus’s gaze moves briefly to mine and I release my weak grip on the Emperor’s arms, letting them fall to my side. Marcus shifts his body ever so slightly before he throws something from behind his back. The object whizzes past my cheek, scratching it slightly as the blade buries itself in the Emperor’s neck. He drops his knife and clutches at his throat, his eyes wide with fear. He crumbles to the floor and sputters for several moments before his body stops moving. I run to Marcus, throwing my arms around him again. He grunts and I remember the soldiers hitting him.

“Are you hurt?”

He clutches his side. “I’ve had worse.”

“You are so fucking hot right now,” I speak quietly to him and he smiles. “I’m covered in dirt and blood and sweat.”

“Stop trying to turn me on more I already said you’re hot.”

He laughs but then inhales sharply at the pain. “I’ll take it, I guess.”

“No, that’s my job.” I bring my lips to his, pushing him back towards the chaise lounge chair on the other side of the room. He sits, pulling me onto his lap as I straddle him, my dress getting dirty as I shift my hips. He groans, his large hands sliding up my bare thighs under my dress and fuck! My vision starts to blacken and I hear Marcus whine out some expletives as we both are brought out of the simulation. 

—---------------------------

Hopefully for the last time, I blink awake, wiggling my fingers and toes as I look around the room. The helmet is gently lifted from my head and the woman that had put it on me moves into my eyesight.

“How are you feeling?”

“I’m here.”

“Good. Wait just a moment for your body to fully catch up. Do you have any questions?”

“Yeah why did you stop us having sex?”

She studies me for a moment. “It is not allowed in the programming.”

“I cross my arms. “Well your programming is stupid.”

She chuckles so quietly I thought I’d imagined it. “The algorithm wants you and your mate to match based on personality and emotions, not just physical.”

“I can guarantee you it wasn’t just physical.” 

She helps me stand and I shake my limbs out, full feeling returning to them. I smooth out my dress as she readjusts my hair. “Are you ready to meet him?”

Him. My reality man. “Y..yeah.” 

“Right through that door. He’s already waiting for you.” I move towards the door but she stops me. “I just have to say, I’ve been doing this for years and I’ve never seen a situation like yours and his.”

I furrow my brow. “What do you mean?”

So smiles softly. “So…rooted in reality.”

Yeah that’s not confusing. But she doesn’t explain further, turning back to the chair and helmet, starting to clean them. I take a deep breath to steady myself and open the door, walking through and closing it behind me. The man on the other side of the room, my mate, turns towards me and we both gasp.

“Marcus?”

“Ivy?”

We meet in the middle of the room and I cup his face, Marcus tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “Is it really you?”

He nods. “Yeah. You? Real?”

“Real.”

He pulls my face to his, kissing me deeply, but then pulling back a moment later. 

“I’ve been dying to ask you out since forever. I never thought I’d be paired with you, here of all places.”

I cock my head to the side. “Why didn’t you ever ask me?”

“Have you seen yourself? You’re entirely out of my league.”

“I’m fairly certain it’s the other way around.”

He opens his mouth to protest, but I put my finger on his lips. “I think we went through several first dates in there. Plus, we’re already friends. Can we…that is, can you take me back to your place first? Then we can eat?”

Marcus’s eyes darken, his hands finding a place on my hips as he pulls me against his body, letting me feel how into that idea he is. 

We’re married a year later.

—----

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[hanleiacelebration]

Han/Leia Appreciation Week 2024

WE'RE BACK, BABY! "Wait, what's happening, wasn't this in August??" you might wonder. Based on your feedback, we decided to host this and (probably) future editions of Han/Leia Appreciation Week earlier in the year. July seemed like the better choice, given that it's a vacation period in both hemispheres!

This year we're also giving you the prompts over a month in advance, so you have plenty of time to plan and create!

Han/Leia Appreciation Week was an event originally hosted at @han-leia-solo between 2016-2019, but for the past three years, we've taken up the mantle here at @hanleiacelebration 😊

💖 How does Han/Leia Appreciation Week work?

The event will run from July 14th to July 20th, and there will be two different prompts each day that creators can fulfill with: fanfic, fanart, gifsets, graphics, fanvids, headcanons, crafts, playlists, rec lists. You’re encouraged to tag your posts with #hanleiaweek2024 so we can reblog them! After the week is over, we’ll share a masterlist with links to the works.

You can show your appreciation in many ways; however, please keep in mind that it has to be a creation of yours of some sort, e.g. don’t repost other people’s fanart, gifs, or unedited pictures. Rec lists should include a link to the original source both for fanfic and fanart (more on this after the cut).

🎆 The prompts

Sunday 7/14: Tradition / Ceremony

Monday 7/15: Braids & Bloodstripes (hair or clothing) / Home planet

Tuesday 7/16: AU / Canon divergence

Wednesday 7/17: Force / Belief

Thursday 7/18: Favorite scene / Favorite quote

Friday 7/19: Meeting / Escape

Saturday 7/20: Free day!

You can use only one of the daily prompts, combine both, reinterpret them, or skip the day if you can’t think of anything. If you’re not able to post on the same day for a prompt, you’re still encouraged to share it through the week—just don’t post works for a certain prompt before the day corresponding to that prompt.

💠 💠 💠

FAQs and Rules under the cut - please read!

💕 Can I post my work to another site and share the link on Tumblr?

Yes! This is a good option for people who might want to create explicit art that could be taken down on Tumblr, write a long fic or multichapter, or make videos or playlists.

💕 Does it have to be a new creation? Can I finish and post a WIP?

It has to be something that has never been posted anywhere else before, so finishing and sharing a WIP is okay! If it doesn’t fit any of the prompts, you can share it on Free Day.

💕 Is this event open to all ratings?

Yes! Just remember to use a “Read more” cut if you’re posting the whole work on Tumblr, and to add a note at the top if your work is rated Mature or Explicit, as well as if it has any major trigger warnings, so all folks can safely browse through the entries.

💕 Are there any length or quality requirements?

There’s no min. or max. length for fanfic or quality level for art, but please note that AI-generated works won’t be accepted. For gifsets, there’s a minimum of two gifs (that must be made by you!). For playlists, there’s a minimum of five songs. For rec lists of fic or fanart, there’s also a minimum of five recs. Some more questions you might have about rec lists:

- How do I share someone else’s art without posting a picture? You might post a thumbnail that crops a preview of the piece; if the piece has a title, you might use that; you might describe it; or you might say something like “this piece by [artist]”, and link to the source.

- What if I found a fanart on Google? Try to find the original source using reverse search image.

- What if I can’t still find it, can I just say “credit to the artist”? In that case, please just don’t share the piece.

- What if I know the artist but don’t have a link to the original source? Naming the artist and linking back to where you found it is okay, in that case.

💕 Can I write for canon/Legends and include other pairings?

All canons, time periods, headcanons and AUs are welcome, and you’re allowed to include side pairings, except for R*eylo. However, keep in mind that this is a Han/Leia appreciation week - at the risk of sounding repetitive, works should focus on appreciating Han and Leia’s relationship!

💕 What’s the time zone for the event?

Please don’t worry too much about time zones: when we say “day”, we always mean “whenever that day is for you in your part of the world”. IE: if it’s Monday for you, you can post your work for the Monday prompt.

💠 💠 💠

Do you have any other questions? Don’t hesitate to send us an ask or to message one of the mods: @lajulie24 @hanorganaas and @otterandterrier

We can’t wait to see what you all create!

[jmdbjk]

. . .

Just like Jimin rubbing his own head and being shook instantly, we will have many instances where we will be reminded of them... see a photo or a video, hear their voices or a song and instantly be shook that we won't be seeing Jimin and Jungkook much in the next 18 months.

Not gonna lie, it is rough for me to watch Jimin’s live. The level of vulnerability is just too much for me to handle. His uncertainty, his dismay, his level of discomfort and self-consciousness... humiliation(?) over the loss of his beautiful hair, I can't watch it yet. His own disbelief at looking at his own shaved head...

He is facing something unknown and unfamiliar. He's learned a lot over the past year diving into the appearances he had to do alone for his ambassadorships for Dior and Tiffany. I say "alone" but he wasn't alone, he had his manager and staff by his side.

He won't have them when he enters the military base.

I already said in a previous post that Jimin is disappointed that he must, once again, stop doing what he loves and do this instead. He’s just hitting his stride and he has a lot he wants to accomplish. All that, in addition to his habit of self-criticism and his anxiety issues, it is HUGE that he will have someone there who knows this about him and can help him redirect and calm down. He will beat himself up, put himself down and not allow himself to give himself credit for doing as well as he thinks he should. Jungkook will remind him that he's amazing and help him overcome all that noise in his head.

And keep in mind that Jungkook is a level of introvert that requires some amount of "alone time". This "alone time" is when this type of introvert “recharges” or “decompresses” in order to settle or center one’s self. We all see how different he is during group lives versus when he is alone. His introvert thrives by himself. The situation of being with strangers for such long periods is CHALLENGING! Without his fidget spinner lip rings, and again, staff and manager beside him facing something new by himself, he'll be ADHDing all over the place. Knowing that Jungkook has someone he is comfortable with, who understands this about him, is HUGE. He has a habit of tuning out, zoning out and withdrawing and Jimin can help him stay put in the moment.

Besides genuinely missing performing and his fans, it is no wonder that his frame of mind during his last live with us was downhearted.

This is not a situation where one needs the other more... it is a situation where they will both mutually benefit from having the other present.

These guys are not like us. These two have lived the past ten years in a world that is NOTHING like ours. They've grown up and matured living a life that we can't possibly know and understand. Jungkook has several $1000 bottles of whiskey chilling in his refrigerator that he mixes with Cloop soda water and drinks like its kool-aid through a straw. THEY ARE NOT LIKE US.

They've succeeded beyond all expectations, even their own, and had to deal with all the extreme ups and downs of all of that... and now they must put everything they know aside to step into a completely different world with the eyes of the world focused on them. The pressure to not fuck up has to be enormous. Everything they do is amplified. Its not fair, really.

Physically, they will have advantages over their younger fellow soldiers in that strenuous work is not unfamiliar to them, they are accustomed to pushing themselves and they know what it takes to master something that requires a lot of physicality. They are strong and athletic.

And now, emotionally and mentally, they will be fine because they will have each other.

I will miss all of them and be so very excited to count down the days to Jin's discharge... but I will be the most bereft waiting for Jimin and Jungkook.

[oraclemoontarot]

haechan's ideal type `✦ ˑ ִֶ 𓂃⊹ tarot reading

cards pulled: knight of swords, nine of swords, three of cups, three of swords, fool, king of cups, eight of swords, ten of wands, ace of pentacles, high priestess, queen of cups, ace of swords, eight of cups, nine of cups, knight of pentacles

with the amount of swords and cups, haechan definitely places importance in stimulating conversation and the emotional connection. he would want someone who challenges him, but also talks about their worries and concerns within the relationship, rather than bottling things up. rather than a romantic partner, he would want them to be his friend first, where they would enjoy each others company and know each other really well.

haechan would want someone who would put effort into mending the relationship, as relationships require work to strengthen them and for them to last long-term, he would want a partner who works together to solve issues, even things they are dealing with on an individual level - this feels like a true partnership.

the fool fell next to the king of cups which immediately made me think he'd be a fool for his partner lmao. but he would want someone who is like the fool card - they're adventurous, fun, enthusiastic and with such energy that it is contagious, but it's as though everything is new and exciting for them. both the king of cups and queen of cups fell out, so he would want his perfect match. both the cups are emotionally mature, nurturing, strong and great listeners. they are warm people who look after others well, and are emotionally open.

haechan would want someone who doesn't make rash decisions and, when they are facing a challenge in their life, they do whatever they can to overcome it. he would want someone who is good with their money and savings, and are stable people who are career focused. he is also attracted to those who have a sense of mystery to them, and a good intuition - they would have a tough exterior and it would take some time to truly get to know them. this could come from life experiences, where there is a depth to them.

haechan is attracted to those who are great communicators. they may be good at debates, witty, funny, and good with words in general. this feels more like matching his energy and being able to keep up with him. I'm also getting the word brat bye 😭

with the eight and nine of cups, haechan would want someone who doesn't stay too long in the past, or in things that don't serve or treat them well; they leave behind what doesn't serve them in search for something better. and, when they do succeed, they know how to show appreciation towards their efforts and enjoy their earnings/achievements.

overall, with the knight of pentacles in this deck, he would want someone who dresses well and where they look good together. like a power couple that would attract peoples attention. they would be someone who is down-to-earth, open to change, thoughtful, kind and understanding.

[vynanaa]

BIRTHDAY SURPRISE.

Dazai x GENDER NEUTRAL Reader.

TW/CW: Dazai (typical suicide mentions), bottom Dazai, dom!reader, gender neutral reader, oral, strap usage (if you're AFAB), hardcore top reader, little to no plot, profanity, mature themes, (Y/N) usage, mentions of alcohol, he calls you master here.

Note: I do not own any characters in this fictional work. Everything is fake and all by imagination. Thank you. Viewer discretion is advised.

DAZAI IS A man full of mysteries. The only way to figure him out is by reaching his vulnerable points. Though, even it'd be that level of trust, he'd still be hard to figure out. Through his years of living, it was never really easy to get along with him without feeling uneasy, to you, at least.

In despite of his unsettling demeanor, it was still obvious that this man was easy to control in more... intimate, ways.

"Happy Birthday, Osamu!" You greeted with a warm grin as he arrived at your shared apartment, holding up a tray of his favorite dish; crab. He looked worn out, but at your appearance, he smiled. A warm, genuine smile that made the past falter.

"Thank you, belladonna.." The man in question cooed in response, eliciting a soft chuckle from you. You wanted to ask how was work, but you were too far gone to even remember that. He looked very pleased to see you, and maybe eventually, he'd tell you how things had gone in the agency.

Since it was his birthday, you've obviously prepared the apartment clean, and had cooked food for him; which he was very grateful for. The lousy set of alcohol was put aside as to keep him sober, and the it looked rather warm than cold and depressive when it always used to be.

"You did this all for me? That's adorable, my (Y/N)..." Dazai lightly teased as he looked around, munching on the crab with eyes that shine in awe. He looked handsome; you couldn't believe you were just realizing. "Of course, Osamu." You replied with a sweet, yet cunning smile. Though it wasn't obvious, he felt cautious, and a bit challenged, by your look.

"I sense that you're planning something, hm?"

And oh, his senses were so right. You sometimes forget that this man may seem so easy-going, and yet he can read through pages so easily.

"Oh well, that's true..." You teasingly voiced out in a whisper just by his ear, and he seemed to tense up at this. It's not so often he's reactive to these types of stuff, and you were loving it. "Tell me," Dazai started, "tell me what's on your mind, belladonna..."

His voice is hypnotizing, almost bribing your throat to spill your vicious plan; but of course, you stayed tough.

"C'mon now, I want it to be a surprise." You cooed, your fingertips touching the tip of his bandages that were plastered around his wrists. His eyes slightly widened at the action, and he smirked with anticipation of what comes next. "Then, I'm required to eat so I'd not starve, hm?" He hummed in delight, his tiresome demeanor slowly faded away; good. You thought; he ought to remain in the mood in order for him to receive his birthday gift.

Minutes, an hour, a few seconds... The time passed as the two of you were last in a nicely shared dinner before alcohol even came place. You'd best say it's junk, but it's his birthday after all.

"You aren't drunk, still?" You inquired in disbelief that his alcohol tolerance was that high, well, considering it was five glasses, and you rarely drink, it's a bit surprising to you. "Oh, no I'm not. I won't be anytime sooner, trust me."

"Oh, right... you reek of alcohol every night you come home, so I'll not question any longer." You smiled at Dazai, making him finish another shot. This time, he seemed to stop pouring himself a glass. You've only took two shots due to wanting to be sober.

He knew.

"Actually, I'd rather drink something else..." Dazai teasingly cooed, leaning closer, and playing with the cloth of your top's collar. "Oh? What is it? Pray tell me.." You teased back, a light smirk showed your confidence in the given moment. It was obvious he was flushed at this, and he stood up, knowingly, even.

Heading to the room, you toyed with his coat, taking it off and hanging it on the closet handle, while he on the other hand, started to unbutton his vest.

"You're eager," You started, "are you that excited, hm?"

"Just give me my gift.." He replied with a cunning smile. As that came to event, you slowly leaned in to kiss him, and he returned the kiss with neediness full of passion, that of which you originally didn't expect from him.

Making out eventually led to sensual touches, but the man was impatient. He unbuttoned your shirt, trying to touch you all over, but unfortunately for him... you wouldn't allow him without a little begging.

"Nuh uh. No touching." You whispered into his ear, receiving a light whimper of dissatisfaction from Dazai. "But-" You cut him off, "No, you stay put. Or do you want me to punish you, hm?" Cunningly, you smirked and leaned back, fully removing your shirt and your first layers off. His eyes wandered all over your figure, and the desire was vivid.

"Does my boy like what he sees?" You teased and straddled him, making him lie down on his back. Helplessly, he gave in and gave you a needy little expression. How pathetic, you thought. He's such a needy bastard, though he'd never admit that out loud. Maybe he would...

"Please, just give me my gift," He whimpered, "Please... please master?" Dazai bucked his hips upward, allowing you to feel the bulge underneath his clothing. He was getting desperate, and really aroused. "I wanna hear more, now." You teased.

"Fuck me, please, fuck me." He sternly begged, his breath was airy and squeaky, enough to indicate his desperation and submission towards you.

"Hmm.." You pretended to hum in thought, "But you've been really naughty.."

"I promise, I'll be good now! I-I'm.. I'm a good boy, master.." His voice slowly quieted down, as if he's embarrassed to admit this. He was that vulnerable in this matter. "Fine, but I do things my way here. Got it?" You asserted yourself, though giving in.

As he nodded in approval, your hand traveled to his waist, while the other rubbed on his crotch, supposedly feeling down on his hard, clothed dick.

He let out a desperate gasp, his voice hitched and he threw his head back. "I want to hear more. Tell me more, tell me what you need." You teased, enunciating your words as you whispered right into his ear, your breath hitting his plush skin.

He was so obsequious.

"Please, please, please... Please, master (Y/N)," His pleads were rolled out of his tongue, so clearly and so dirty. Hearing him beg was like listening to a classic, it stroke right through your head, your heart. "Fuck me." He finished.

"You're so needy." You commented, though you weren't completely unfazed by his present needy demeanor. His words got to you, the tone of his voice pierced right through your essence. You had to remind yourself that this man was manipulative, and he was in this to get what he wants— what he needs.

It was almost as if his manipulation was getting to you, but... you wouldn't let that happen now, no you won't.

"Alright, but you take what I give you, and what I give you only." You whispered with boldness painting your voice. Dazai nodded in agreement and desperation, permitting you to do as you please to him. He was a mess under you, he always is.

His messy brown hair seemed messier as he's lied down on the soft cushions of your bed, strands almost covering his beautiful hazel eyes. His fingers wrapped around the blanket, looking for some comfort for himself under you.

Seeing this, your hand slipped down to his waist, reaching the bands of his underwear. As you unbuckled his belt, your wrist pressed down his crotch, and though you've felt it just minutes ago, it seems like he's harder than that moment you were toying on his clothed dick.

This provoked you to slide his pants down, making his dick spring up to his stomach lightly, greeting you with a subtle twitch. You've seen it before, but this moment, you can't help but admire its details.

All in a darker shade of beige from his pale skin, the way one vine from another has its own specific size, the length, and how it isn't too girthy... enticing, you told yourself.

Your hand wrapped around his dick, making the precum drip down your hand and around the area it slid through.

"H-hnng-.." Dazai whimpered, closing his mouth and biting his inner lips to conceal his little noises, and tightened his grip on the sheets like he was trying to keep himself calm.

The man was a bit too out of it, his eyes closed tightly— and probably even nibbling on the insides of his lips. So, you gave his dick a sudden rough stroke down. You were eyeing his every reaction, and listening carefully to whatever noise he'll release.

"A-aah-aah..!" He moaned in complete bliss, his naturally noisy and talkative behavior dimmed down by his present obsequiousness. It was just another time he's submitting to you. "Oh, that was barely something.. you're quite sensitive now, hm?"

"S-sh- shut up..! Ah-!" He gasped, before he completed his complaint about your teasing, his dick is damped by your warm and plump lips. Your hand was wrapped around his base, and slowly but surely, you take in his length and girth inside your mouth with pleasure.

"A-ah- ah more, please, more.." Uncharacteristically, the man continued to writhe and beg for more. The mood he lets out was different from his usual outer facade. "P-please- aah!"

He gasped as your tongue reached his base, taking him fully in your mouth. He let out a shaky whine, almost convincing you to do more for him. Your fingers were toying on his skin, right on his stomach; caressing and tracing on his slightly toned body, scarry and textured.

Your eyes met his as you sucked, hard, on his long dick. He seemed close to tearing up, his pupils dilated right in the middle of his hazelnut irises. "More, more please!" He begged and pleaded, while his slender fingers gripped tightly into the soft sheets.

"Mm.. mmnnh..." You hummed softy as you continued to please him, your head ployed up and down his dick, your lips hugged tightly onto his skin. Your hum sent vibrations from his dick to his very soles, his fingertips tingled and weakened from your motions.

His leg twitched slightly, one of his feet slightly moved upward in pure ecstasy. He couldn't control the noises coming out of his mouth any longer, and his face contorted in pleasure. You knew he was about to finish.

"D-don't stop, don't stop, don't sto- aah!" You cut him off by going a slight bit harder tham you already were.

He threw back his head once more, his eyes rolled to the back of his skull uncontrollably. This provoked you to give him a little more than he wants. You went a little faster, your tongue swirling around his veiny shaft as your hands now gripped tightly onto his curved waist.

"H-haah! G-ghh-!" The man's needy whimpers slowly turned high-pitched minute by minute, indicating that he's getting just where you want him to be. So suddenly, his hand's near your scalp, gripping onto your hair softly and pushing you down on his dick.

You eyed him from below; if you weren't right there, you would've been smirking slyly at his desperate reactions to climax.

After a few more movements, he moaned with a light growl, releasing his seed right into your throat. "Mmppf-" You slightly struggled, though consuming all of the fluid he shooted through your throat.

You pulled back to watch him breathe heavily, his chest rising up and falling back down briskly, his voice shaky, to the point he sounded like he was whimpering.

"You're spent, and just because of a blowjob?" You chuckled softly and teasingly, the man who was laid down on the bed immensely embarrassed. "No, I'm not.." He spoke in a breathless whisper, gasping as his chest heaves.

"Alright, keep up your act." You smirked, and made your way to the closets. You fully removed your bottoms, your member springing up to your stomach softly with a light tap noise. "On your hands and knees now, pretty. I'll give you what you want,"

"It's your birthday after all..."

Dazai immediately obeyed, on all fours like a good boy. You decided that you'd give him what he deserves, after a long week of work without much rest to both of you. He was exhausted, and surely needed something to get him off on his free days.

"Good boy, now tell me what you want."

He replied with a whimper and lightly squirmed on the plush sheets. He whispered something you couldn't make out at first, and so, it provoked you to give him a light smack on his rear, now sensitive, rear. "Louder." You commanded with a dominating tone.

"Ah! Please fuck me!" He begged— more so, yelled. He was getting desperate, and it was so easy for you to control him. "Good boy," you cooed into the man's ear and entered him, the tip of your shaft embraced by his needy little hole.

Dazai gasped as he gripped the sheets, his slender fingers making their way to the pillows, just to grip on them for extra friction, or to console himself from losing his mind.

You moved slowly, halfway into his asshole.

"H-hnngh- a-aah!" The man softly whimpered below you, his thighs were mildly shaking from the friction left from his previous ejaculation, and the current stimulation from your thick member stretching his asshole out once more.

"Take it, take it baby..." You— almost comfortingly— whispered into his ear, nibbling on it softly as you held his shoulders for a better grip, to push him further down on your shaft.

"H-h-haah!" His breath hitches as you did this, making you let out a satisfied smile towards him. He didn't dare look at you— he didn't want to. He was too embarrassed to admit he loved it.

With your dick fully sheathed into his warm, tight hole, you let out a soft hum in contentment. A few seconds after, you almost completely pulled out, his little hole pulsed around nothing, waiting to have something to grip onto, to squeeze.

"Good boy, take it for me. Enjoy your birthday gift."

And with that, you gave a harsh thrust into him, leaving him almost jolting up the bed, gripping onto the pillow sheets, and slightly arching his back in pleasure. Your tip kissed his very deepest, which elicited a beautiful whimper from Dazai.

You took your time; slowly and gently pulling out, then suddenly thrusting up against him.

He loved it, every second of it. He couldn't help but whine and writhe under you, resting his face onto the pillow, almost shoving himself down to arch his back and let you do your thing.

"H-hnng-! M-mmnnh..!" Little by little, he whimpered. How adorable, you thought as your thrusts eventually roughen and quicken. He seemed to have shut up from the friction your two bodies made. If this was all it took to shut him up, you'd do this everytime if he was by you, you thought to yourself. A part of you wants to absolutely claim him, and make him cry.

But you're too nice, you even rewarded him for sitting pretty and doing nothing to help you.

You were lost in your thoughts, partly, in the pleasure. All of these thoughts were cut off by the man underneath your skin, by a loud and high-pitched moan that seemed to beg, "more!" You groaned yourself, immensely pleased by the sight unfolding in front of you.

"My good boy wants more, hm?" You cooed into his ear as your hands travelled down to his waist to get yourself deeper and deeper into him. In response, he whined, loudly even. You observed as his hands gripped the pillow tighter while his legs shook in pleasure.

"P-please, please..." He breathlessly begged and ground himself backwards against your shaft. His tip dripped with pre-cum, though it looked a bit intense on the sheets below you both.

You gave in to his desires, going faster, harder. In went on and on again, his response always being a series of whines, whimpers, and moans. Some breathy pleads here and there.

His reactions were amazing, and you took note of every single jolt, and even noise. You'd maybe use your techniques another time.

"Cu-cumming- cumming, please, please let me-"

"Do it. Cum for me, Osamu." You cut him off, fingers laced around a part of his neck, making him face up the wall to the ceiling to get a better quality of sounds from him. You loved it, surely, he did too.

As if hypnotized by your words, the man tightened all around your member, his cum dripping uncontrollably onto the sheets. They'd stain for sure, but you didn't care, and neither did he.

"Ghh- a-ahaaah..!" Dazai moaned as he lied down properly, chest flat against a pillow underneath him, hugging it closely to calm down from the remnants of his ejaculation. You came after pulling out, "ngh.." You groaned, messing on his back and his ass. He didn't quite mind, or he was out of his head to even complain yet.

"Feel good?" You quietly queried as you lied beside him, pulling him into a hug and brushing your fingers onto his brown locks to get a better view of his fucked out face. "...That was amazing," he chuckled, cuddling up to you better, now that he's out of the daze you out him into.

"I love you, baby. Happy Birthday..." You kissed his cheek softly, earning a lovingly teasing kiss on the lips from him.

The two of you then slept well, cuddled up together with the sheets over your bodies, not bothered to clean up the mess, since the two of you were miserably exhausted. Anyhow, the night was warm, and so were your hearts.

[ournachojesus]

Hello, this is a Death Note time loop AU. Light and L are stuck in a loop, it starts with Light’s death in the manga. They are the only ones that remember the loops. After the loops start instead of it ending after both of them are dead it only requires one of them to die to reset. What I talk about at some points will be pretty dark (murder, torture, abuse, etc). Not all in this post (does include some of that already) but this AU in general. Since it will involve a lot on how their mental health declines and along with their already… morally interesting self’s I explore how they behave. This is my warning and I’ll make a warning for each post for this.)

Light and L are stuck in a limbo in terms of the Kira case. If either dies they both reset. It's a spiral of them both sometimes playing the game they did but on a much higher level on some cycles or on sight beating the shit out of eachother. First time and second time is obviously different, third to tenth time they work together, after twenty times it breaks down into the spiral. Once they hit loop fifty is when they finally show more obvious signs of breaking. Light is unavoidably killed by Ryku and L is just doomed by the actions of those around them. The death bells ring for both of them but after Light dies and the first reset happens, they no longer have to wait for the other. No loneliness in being the one alive or the one dead. Locked even further into this relationship of only being able to understand eachother. They are smart but not emotionally so (manipulation isn't the same as emotional intimacy or empathy), the resets make things far worse.

Some resets further down the line L just straight up kidnaps Light (before Kira suspects are even chosen) and keeps him till the death bells ring. Like, this would be one of the more psychologically more dangerous situations during the cycles. Along with Light's 'puppeteering phase' where he keeps using the death note on many loops to make L do things against his will then killing him. Both involve torture of taking the free will and autonomy of the other. Something the really messes with both of them since they crave to be atop things. To be able to understand and move the situation in their favor. In both incidents it’s at a time when both individually have breaking points. Since the other is basically burned out to the extreme due to cycles they can’t even use logic to figure out the why when these things happen. Other people? Sure, easy as pie. Eachother? Nope. Can’t get a read. That similar thought process thing they have has no way of happening when it comes to trying and understanding their own feelings.

They are both immoral and shattered characters. They weren't broken in the begging, just already in many pieces and no one took the proper time with either of them to actually make either of them have some emotionally healthy habits. Born with the need for a little more help and no one helped them. Intelligent children are just assumed to be more mature than their age. Regular children are unfairly expected to understand norms and the world when they’re just basically learning from scratch from everything around them, how do you think adults treat intelligent kids then? Pushing them harder, supporting them less. Light and L I don’t expect to act like everyone else, what I’m saying is that they lack empathy for other people a lot of the time because they weren’t given enough attention when being taught that. Kindness is something they think their both don’t, L with his work and Light with being ‘God’. The perception of kindness is warped. Sorry about that rant, back to the AU.

So, ya. It’s a burning pit of corpses in terms of how it goes down. I can go into more detail on the two incidents but I’d do it on another post if people wanted that.

Misa finds out basically everytime, like more people notice depending on how careless both of the boys are in that loop but Misa just figures it out each time. Rem helps with some of those times but it’s majority of Misa doing the heavy lifting. Why? Misa isn’t dumb and she has great luck. Luck and her general genius she already had when it came to interacting with people. Misa is a lost soul who depends her happiness on other people, I don’t know how she got this unfortunate codependency need from (probably some trauma). Anyway, she wants to help them but…

Light is mad, eventually L is to. It’s a lot of frustration of Misa not being apart of their loops but constantly finding out and doing similar things (aka the solutions she proposes or what she does to help. Reminding her becomes a hard task for them both with how things in their minds start to fall apart and her small comforts are numb since at some point they only feel like the only real people). They are trapped in a way where if they keep coming across something that doesn’t help then it just drives them mad. This would probably lead to a couple loops of them doing something horrible (like criminally so) to Misa and either Rem gets their asses or Misa’s good luck manifesting in another way.

Light and L would at some point do something to eachother (this means during the incidents since I left that vague and whatever other things) or other people like Misa. To highly intelligent people with crumbling sanity, shit morals, and highly messed up feelings/relationships? They are going to do things worse than just killing people. Being killed isn’t the worse thing someone can do to you.

About the real people thing, when you are the only ones that can change and grow? It feels like everyone else is an actor or NPC. While things can change for those around them based on their actions, no one remembers and the only reasons these new things happen is because of how the boys act. This wouldn’t seem super bad since you may be thinking I see L and Light as to people that don’t care. No, they do. They just have a hard time with it. It hurts and they don’t understand why. Their families (or people I’d say are close enough with them to be called family) can’t help, will never change with the, and are growing further from them as they start to lose the memories they had before the loops since it’s getting harder to keep everything in check with how long it’s going on for. Their emotional state also affects their memories. At some points they just huddle together, no crying or speaking. Just cuddling.

The longest they live is on the day Light originally dies, but getting L to the point is hard. Cause after the day he originally dies they had a hard time making plans on his survival. In later loops it’s not as bad.

At the end of the loops, what the ending would be? An end to the loops… I have two/three ideas on that but I’d need to see. I want to better organize the events that would happen, their mental health declines, and some other things. Picking an ending now when I’m still trying to figure out how Light becomes not a sexist? I need my details figured out first!!

Hope whoever reads this long AU idea post enjoys it. Posting more is unsure for me.

[herejusttosufferalong]

I have some thoughts I don’t think have been shared yet regarding L & A. I know we all sense this relationship has an expiration date, but I’d like to take it a step further on why I believe we collectively see it with more nuance. I’ll state first that this is just my opinion based on what I’ve seen come out of L/A on social media. However I don’t know them personally, so keep that in mind. Based on what we’ve seen L say regarding his anxiety/adhd and his behavior with past relationships publicly, I’ve always perceived that L has an anxious attachment style when it comes to his personal relationships. 

With that said, I think A also has an anxious attachment style based on the way she behaves on SM and the constant need to “claim” L in whatever way she can. The need to post anything that draws attention to herself whenever she feels “threatened” by BTon/N content.

The thing here is that two people with anxious attachment style can make a relationship work because they understand each other on a different level. They tend of bond over their fears and insecurities which bonds them emotionally at the early stages of a relationship. They then provide each other with mutual understanding and validation. I feel like the Anon’s that send in the “A & L are endgame” posts say this because they recognize the attachment style between the two of them. It’s more than likely they they also have an anxious attachment style; we tend to look for confirmation bias. 

While these relationships can work for a while; they usually don’t. It’s also statistically unlikely without professional help. These connections tend to be based on shared anxieties and not on genuine compatibility.  Inevitability both parties will need more from the other person, usually more than the other person can give. There is a higher level of conflict, controlling behaviors in attempt to easy their own anxiety, and it eventually the communication becomes challenging.

For two people with anxious attachment styles to successfully manage a relationship; they both need to do personal healing/growth individually, set boundaries around their relationship, and ultimately encourage independence from one another to build trust and reduce anxiety. As of right now, we see L and A together none stop since the London premiere so it’s safe to say that they aren’t encouraging that independence; instead they are leaning into their co-dependency. This is a lot of work, something that I don’t think L is ready to do. It requires a lot of maturity on the mans part. Also I believe A is too young to have the self awareness to acknowledge her attachment style and understand the work it would take to make this a long lasting relationship. If they do end up making this relationship work long term then I’ll be the first to give them all the deserved kudos for putting in the level of work required, as most mature adults can barely make relationships thrive long term. However, IMO they’ll hit an expiration date at some point. 

I have some additional thoughts on Nic/Luke as well around attachment style if anyone is interested? 

while i personally pegged this to L a long time ago I never even considered it for A but it makes a lot of sense.

would absolutely love to hear your thoughts on N/L

[mochilatae]

Change Of Plans (Namjoon x Fem Reader)

Word Count: 6.15k

Pairing: Namjoon x Fem Reader

Rating: 18+/Mature/Explicit

Warnings: Oral sex (you receiving), sucking, kissing (french and other), dirty talk, talk about money/being rich, seduction, take charge and submitting, orgasms (multiple/squirting), overstim elements, light force, undressing (you to him), teaching and praise kink, intense fingering, clit sucking/rubbing, shyness/shame (at first), handsome rich Namjoon in this one, sexually experienced versus inexperienced (but not virginal), wet kink, talk about Namjoon being hard/big. Probably missing something but that's how it is!

Genre: PwP, established relationship (new)

AUs: CEO BTS/CEO Namjoon

Summary: You've experienced a lot since you've started dating a CEO. A nice, fancy planned night out turns into something else when Namjoon decides to change things and teach you something you've always wanted to learn.

Author’s Note: I got a wild hair and wrote this. No good reason, just wanted to read about Namjoon doing this as a sexy rich guy. I always say I won't write any more stories about him for a while but I always fail. I love CEO Namjoon too much. He's a hot M-fer.

I tried to proof read but no doubt missed typos/have misspellings, etc. Overlook it and enjoy the content.

Also for @worldwideseal because we know she's his biggest seal and will drop it on command for that man. I don't blame her.

Thank you for reading. If you liked it and feel like telling me in a comment, I'd treasure it. Reblogging is appreciated but never required.

Tag List: @kiestrokes @askkrisachan

He was standing outside when you arrived at the restaurant, as if the beginnings of the coming storm didn’t seem a concern in the least. As a reward you were greeted with the shining shapes of his cheeks as he smiled when you climbed from the passenger seat of the car. It was the one thing that moved him: coming close to hold out his hand.

A wide, warm hand that enclosed yours in the perfect way to show just how much of a size difference existed between you and this man. This handsome man with a wealth spanning beyond this continent. 

Whose eyes looked deep into your own as you stood upright and came up onto the curb, facing him.

“Namjoon…tell you haven’t been standing out here for long?” You couldn’t imagine how much that suit cost. It must not have been much in the scheme of things, from the way he took a single glance down before his attention returned to you through the misty curtain of a light drizzle.

“Long enough. You look beautiful. Did you bring your appetite?” 

You tried to look past him but Namjoon leaned in such a way to keep your focus on him. Not letting you see around his broad shoulders–not that it would have been much easier if he stood still. 

“I did.” You wiped the back of a hand across your cheek in frictionless motion thanks to the slickness of droplets. Soon your hair would be flat from the wetness and you weren’t willing to let that kind of expense go to waste. Your budget didn’t have that level of elasticity. 

“...Can we go inside? We’ll end up waterlogged.” You continued. 

Namjoon smiled as he offered a bent arm to loop your own through. It felt right to cling to him and let his forward motion carry you. He was a natural leader–the air around him spoke of it. No need to announce. He was just that kind of man. 

At the doors of the restaurant Namjoon reached out first, opening one side and nodding into the dark warmth beyond the doorway. Without having to follow it with a suggestion, you slipped through and a moment later he was standing just behind you in the lobby. So close his warmth was back, lacing around you in a slow creep–not that it was anything to complain about. 

“Reservation for Kim.” He smiled from behind you to the hostess, who returned his greeting with a relaxed, shy grin and a brief nod. She murmured something akin to “This way, Mr Kim.”, then rounded the corner into the main dining area.

Then went beyond it, weaving through to the back and 4 darkly painted doors, closed tight to the world. Stopped at the second one, she opened it then stood aside, polite and quiet. Namjoon let you lead and followed seconds later. After a murmured exchange the door clicked shut. 

By then you’d focused on pretending to study the table settings. Everything was immaculate, from the silver ice bucket with an emerald bottle frosting under the lights at the table’s center, to the plates with an expensive looking line work running the perimeter and even the glimmering flutes, empty and waiting in front of each place setting.

Namjoon caught your glance as he parted ways and came around to stand across the way, on the table’s other side. “I think we’ll enjoy this..” 

Your brows lifted as you touched the back of the chair directly in front of you. It wasn’t long before your fingers curled the darkly finished wood as nerves had tiny hairs on the back of your neck lifting. 

“We will?” You ventured, adding a miniscule smile. Relaxation came when Namjoon nodded.

“I think so. You’ve been out to dinner before.. I’m sure.” 

“Yeah.” You conceded. “Not here though.” It shouldn’t matter but it did–between you and this man there were a lot of economic gaps, although he never flaunted it in a way that made you feel like you didn’t belong. 

THAT was all of your own making. And right now it was particularly strong when you noticed the name on the bottle when Namjoon leaned over the table to grab and lift it from the ice bucket. He hoisted it up enough to peer at the label, then shot you a look.

“You’ve had alcohol before?” When you nodded he mirrored it, going on. “Good. This is a special bottle. Very,VERY rare.” 

“Should we be wasting it?” He set the bottle down on the table then came around to you again. Standing close his skin had dried enough that he was rosy from the returning warmth, out of the cool night air. And hints of his cologne teased your senses, inducing an unconscious swallow.

It wasn’t like this was the first night you’d been out on a date. Or even the first night you’d been out to dinner with Namjoon, but something about this night felt beautifully tense–especially with the size of the knot it was winding deep in your belly. 

Namjoon had the chair out and inclined his head. “Sit. Please?” Another smile–full of dimples. 

He pushed you close to the table and moved away a moment later, taking his seat quietly. When you took a look at the small menu near your plate, he turned focus back to the bottle, working on opening it. 

You wanted to watch how easily he opened the champagne. You’d seen it done in movies but couldn’t ever master it, even with the cheap bottles from the store. No telling how much THIS one cost and that meant there was even less of a chance you’d take the risk of “practicing” the act. 

Instead you squinted at the small type on the creamy cardstock between your twitching fingers. You went over the appetizer and main course unsure of a few words. French hadn’t been your strong point and some of the ingredients you didn’t recognize from all your episodes of Top Chef to have a single clue. 

The cork pop as Namjoon opened the champagne made you jump and pulled his eyes to you again. This time he half smirked. 

“Sorry..” He filled one glass roughly halfway and passed it over, then poured for himself. As you sniffed the glass contents you watched him return the bottle to the bucket, then touch the flute rim to his lips. No hesitation, Namjoon tipped the glass and his head back, swallowing a sizable mouthful. You watched the flexion in his throat and licked your lips. 

“What do you think?” He asked and you looked up from the menu again. No luck once more. You decided to give up. It would be a nice surprise to see what came out soon. 

“Of?” You blinked, then giggled when Namjoon pointed at the champagne. “Ah…It’s…interesting.” 

“That’s telling. Not your preferred brand?” 

“It’s not that.” You laid the menu down, feeling warmth climbing your neck. For a single moment you wished to be back out in the chill of the night. It would help even out your body and brain. 

“Explain?” 

“I haven’t had anything like this before, to be honest.” 

“This?” He wasn’t mocking and there was a sweet, curious interest in his tone. You couldn’t be mad at that. Maybe any other date would be a prick about your lack of experience with the finer things in life. 

“Well.. a nice dinner at a place with a menu I can’t read.” Except for the prices, you couldn’t understand anything else and that universal language of money was enough to put you back in the understanding that you weren’t meant to be somewhere like this, let alone with someone like Namjoon.

But he didn’t seem plussed. In fact, he eased back into his chair and tilted his head with an easy spread to his lips. 

“I can translate.” 

“It’s not that.” You returned to the same feeling again, offering a weak smile. “I just…This isn’t me.” 

“If I’m honest it’s not really what I wanted tonight, either. I wanted to experience things with you, Y/n. I can’t always hit a homerun. Sometimes I get it wrong—we can go somewhere else.” 

You hesitated this time, searching that handsome face across the way for any betraying microexpression but none showed. For all you could tell he wasn’t upset in the least. Which was nice. 

“--You sure? This is a beautiful restaurant. It’s got…fancy food.” Fancy meant expensive and probably so good you’d ascend. But that also felt like a lot of strangeness you might not be able to get over. And he HAD made the comment about wanting to experience things with you. 

“Let’s get out of here then. Where do YOU want to go?” Namjoon leaned into the tabletop with both elbows, voice a few decibels lower. 

You scoffed. “Seriously?” 

Namjoon nodded. “Absolutely. Doesn’t matter where–anything goes. The only criteria is that you're comfortable and relaxed. If you want to try things with me, then let's change it up a bit. You take ME to something you’ve always wanted to try. We can make this night end much better..” 

“Okay.” You only took a moment to consider, then nodded. Namjoon was up again and came to your seat. He was even faster pulling it away from the table enough for you to stand. 

“We just came in from the rain out there–” You protested, but lambasted yourself to get the hell out of your own way. He was trying to reshape the night, open to adapting any plans he had. The least you could do was NOT complain about trivial stuff. 

“--And we’re going back out into it.” His breath caressed your cheek, his fingers gliding through to gather your hair back. Namjoon smiled again and continued, every syllable delightfully tickling.  “..You lead the way. We’ll learn together.” 

--------------------------------------------------------

“You can take your shoes off in here or the main living room.” Namjoon called back as you let the penthouse door shut at your back. You’d been here before a handful of times and it was a little easier each time. Even as new as things were with him, you were at least used to this space and THIS collection of expensiveness all in one place. 

Namjoon’s form strolled through the foyer, broad shoulders writhing as they escaped the suit jacket. He dropped it onto a rack of hooks as he passed them by and finally turned to face you. With the light at his back it was impossible to see his face. To read his expression. But from his tone he was smiling. 

“Don’t be afraid. You know I don’t bite. Been a while since you’ve been here.” 

“It has..” You murmured, pacing his path, nipples tightening from the chill of the bare marble foyer floor under your soles. As you came close Namjoon undid his tie and tugged it down to a yawning O, letting it hang around his neck. 

“What do you want to do here? I can make us something—or if you’d like another drink, I have A LOT more options.” 

“Water is fine.” You smiled. There wasn't much preamble between Namjoon’s silence to study you and when the back of a few nails traced the apple of your cheek. You turned into his touch, savoring the blooming warmth of his naked palm. Your thoughts and the world slowed in a pulse that started right between your thighs. 

“I can get that for you.” You didn’t have time to say thank you before Namjoon and his touch were both gone,into the living room area, then beyond. A door opened and closed far away as you strained to listen and imagine his movements with your vague familiarity of his penthouse layout. 

He was back soon enough,small glass of water in hand. You took it and sipped as he took the tie off and dropped it onto the top of a small side table nearby. He started to reach up to the buttons of his dress shirt then paused. 

Like he’d been struck with some sudden and miraculous idea, Namjoon stalled. He arched one brow. 

“Y/n..” 

“Yeah?” You managed after swallowing a healthy mouthful of chilled water. A pity the glass was half empty now. You hadn’t realized just how parched you’d been, but staring at Namjoon was hard work. And that meant the thirst was real, on several fronts.

Your friends could never, EVER appreciate it, even when they’d oohed and ahhed over his interviews in various Fortune 500 type magazines that you’d checked out from the library to give them proof of life. 

“I want to try something with you.” 

“That’s a huge opening you’ve left. I could drive a semi through it. What’s the catch?” You set the glass down, determined to finishing it sooner rather than later.

“No catch.” He chuckled. “I’m being a little vague but I want to make sure you’re comfortable here. Are you?” 

“Yes. I wouldn’t have asked to come here. I could have just asked to go back to my place.” 

“True.” He nodded. “And you know I’d take you there in a heartbeat.” 

You sighed, a little dreamily. “Yeah.” 

Namjoon paused again, like he was calculating something under his lowered brows, then began again. 

“What you said in the restaurant got me thinking.” 

“I said a lot. Which part?” 

“That restaurant…it wasn’t you. The…experience–expensive food and decor. The overall environment. We’ve been dating a little while but I want to give you things you haven’t experienced.” 

You nodded. “You have.” 

“Maybe I’m not talking about money wise.” 

You met his heavy stare. It wasn’t in the least bit awkward the way he stepped close, his front almost touching you, staring down his nose, right into your eyes. And you, swaying lightly, looking up into his relaxed face. Calm curiosity was back on his features. 

I wouldn’t object if you gave me the experience of touching me again. You coughed gently, hinting. “What then..”

“There’s things you haven’t done. ..Experienced.” A nod. He had to ask these softball questions fully knowing. But why? 

“Yes.” 

“I’m going to ask you something and I want the truth. We haven’t really…discussed this and I think here is the best place–now is the best time–to have that talk.” 

Uh oh. “Um–”

He tutted when your lips worked as fresh chills washed over your torso. Had he gone rogue and dug up some dark secret from your background? Namjoon’s level of wealth and power, he had to know how to vet someone in ways they couldn’t hide even with the most herculean efforts. He’d find it out–wouldn’t stop until he did. 

“It’s not like that. This isn’t a gotcha. Just…want to ask. And I want the truth. Fair enough?” 

“Sure.” You watched his hand come up and fondle a strand of your hair before sliding it behind your ear. He tickled that lobe and smirked. 

“You’ve been with a man before.” He waited for your nod. “...Have you ever..undressed a man?” 

“What?” You swayed a little more obviously. Namjoon’s grip settled on your shoulder, righting you gently. “What’s that mean? I’ve seen a guy undress.” 

“Not what I asked.” There was a sweet patience in the twist of his lips. 

“I.---” 

“Y/n..” When he caressed under your chin your head lifted and fell back from the ghost of pressure. Your lids gained several pounds and you whined in the beginnings of horny confusion. 

No need to hide that from this man. Namjoon had seen every inch of you naked. Maybe not at every angle, but you could be open to changing that. He was a grown man. Healthy. Interested in you. Raring to go. And that was turning your brain into a blended mess of hormones and chaos. 

“Yes?” You gasped. When the back of his pointer finger knuckle traveled along your lips, you pressed them to the point and exhaled when his lids lowered in response. 

“It’s one thing to see a man take his clothes off. Have YOU ever taken a man’s clothes off.” 

“A shirt, sure.” 

“--All of it. Head to toe. Shirt. Pants..under those things…” 

“No.” You quietly conceded. He didn’t let your head lower. It was more habit than shame. Namjoon never made you feel awkward or bad about your green nature with a lot of this relationship stuff. 

“Will you do it for me?” 

A long blink and his face blurred until your eyes focused on those soft dimples and the faint parting of his lips in a flirtatious grin. 

“Undress you?” Namjoon nodded and his thumb pulled at your lower lip. You whined and his teeth sank into his lip. 

“Please?” He whispered. “You can say no…if it’s really—”

“Yes.” You coughed. “I…just.. I don’t know what to do but..if you don’t mind me fumbling through–.” 

“I was inexperienced too. The best way to learn is to do. The hands-on approach is the best route, if you ask me.” He had the knowledge of years–lord knew how many–of experience at this. It was hard to believe he was ever inexperienced or new. Nervous or fumbled at anything, especially with the way he touched you. 

Eventually you let your head bob and he stepped back, gently collecting your wrist. He didn’t speak, heading for the living room space. Then going beyond it–right for the hallway. The one that led to the bedroom. 

Namjoon stood just out of reach from the end of the bed. A california king style, spanning what felt like the entirety of the room. In reality it was impressively wide–like Namjoon himself, but right now you had a bit of a skewed perspective. Bravely you stepped close to him. Within reach of that big chest. His eyes trained on your face, he inhaled,puffing a bit. 

“I took care of the tie..” Namjoon chuckled. “Hope you can forgive my robbing you of that.” You snickered and reached up to put your hands on his pecs. The firmness was palpable through the crisp fabric. You walked fingers inwards, heading for the buttons. 

“That’s right..” He murmured. “Keeping going..” 

Your fingers felt weak. Uncoordinated. But you managed anyway, popping several buttons open, heading down to just above his navel before you paused again, checking his stare for approval or direction. He only offered a serene smile and silence. 

You undid more buttons, rewarded with the tight, perfect smoothness of his skin–the line of belly muscles and upwards, where the firm shapes of his pectoral muscles waited when you spread the material apart further and further. Namjoon groaned briefly and his head went back when you leaned close. Like he was anticipating your next move. 

And the things it did to your insides… You felt light headed again but rallied. Pushing the shirt off his shoulders, you watched it slide down, pooling around the crooks of his elbows. At least he wasn’t wearing cufflinks tonight. You’d seen them before and he even tried to explain the differences before, but you were only supremely grateful right now for one less roadblock. One less challenge for your confused mind. 

He twisted a little to help you push the sleeves down his wrist and tug each one off. The shirt hung around his waist, still tucked into his slacks. You touched the waist of the pants and heard his breath hitch. 

Heat swelled between your legs. No way you dared to look up right now. His scent washed over you, almost choking every molecule of air from your lungs–not that you minded. Your nostrils flared when the waist button popped open. The slacks zipper was almost silent sliding down. He didn’t move as you pushed the pants down his hips. The shirt free, it finally dropped to the floor at Namjoon’s back. 

“That’s much better.” He grumbled. “Keep going. A bit more left, sweetheart.” 

Your head swam dangerously, fingers gripping his hips. Underneath that grasp the material of his boxer briefs provided a nearly frictionless glide. And what that tight material encased just above his thighs was enough to humble you even to the edges of your best, more explicit fantasies. Until Namjoon, you had no conception how good a real man could feel when he was yours alone. 

“You’ve got me so hard already. Take it all off. Almost there..” His quiet murmuring eventually penetrated the hum in your brain, clearing away the fog. 

“Jesus..” You whined, lips touching the center of his chest as your thumbs dove between his skin and the waist of the briefs. The material dropped, sliding down the pillars of his thighs slowly. He barely lifted one foot, then the other, shaking each until the briefs met the ground around his feet. 

Immediately your hand found Namjoon’s cock, wrapping the thick shaft. He was already pulsing as your fingers tightened. His eyes rolled a little and he gulped, then let out a louder groan. 

“You feel so good..” You gasped, turning your profile into his skin. Inhaling and letting the tip of your tongue explore, leaving a wet, meandering trail. Fingers combed up the back of your head and he palmed your skull, guiding it back. 

He was kissing you deep so suddenly. And it lingered on until you had to pull away and suck in a breath. The euphoria of being oxygen starved rushed through you and everything around you in the room became wobbling shapes. Shadows, changing form in a blink. 

“Y/n..” He broke another kiss, lips close enough to graze your lower lip. If he only knew how badly you wanted the suction and the satisfying pop of release. He’d already proved to have amazing lips–strong and firm. Could suck the soul right out of you, if you let it go on too long.  

“Mnnnnn.” You whined. 

“What else haven’t you done with a man? Tell me. I want to do it. I want to be a first for you.” 

Jesus Christ Namjoon. You ARE a ‘first’. You in my life is a thing so brand new it’s unheard of for me. You swallowed and tried to chase his lips but however closer you leaned, Namjoon kept his mouth just as far away, controlling things. As was the status quo. He was much less at the mercy of his hormones than you. 

“I haven’t really felt fingers…” 

“Where?” His smile spanned so wide there was a devilish angle. Teeth flashed and he nosed your chin, forcing your head back. His lips rode down your jugular. 

“You know..” 

“I don’t..” He hissed at your collarbone. “Tell me.” 

“I..Inside me.” 

“Your mouth? Where, baby?” He was probably enjoying the coy, ignorant side he was playing right now. It worked well to force you to reply. But so did the growing ache chewing through your folds under the darkness of your dress and the satin panty barrier separating your modesty from the undoing that was coming down the pike. 

“Namjoon..” 

“Y/n..” A feathering touch traced up your inner thigh and stopped short of going under the dress where it was wet and burning hot. You wanted to faint but screwed your eyes shut. “All you have to do is tell me. We can make it happen..” 

“Inside me. My…pussy.. Here..” You slid a palm over your mound, cupping. The pressure was driving you mad but it was also serving to make it clear–if he still wanted to play dumb. He pulled back and glanced down between your bodies and circled the back of your knuckles of the hand still cradled over your sex. 

“You’ve never been fingered before?” 

“No.” You wheezed. It was the god’s honest truth. If he wasn’t bullshitting he’d be down to remedy that tonight. So far Namjoon’s track record was favoring “asking because he wants the answer and wants to fix it”, so you weren’t worried. 

“That’s…God.. Who would pass up a chance to slide inside you however they can fit?” He rumbled behind sealed lips, then stepped away, taking his touch with it. Your hand moved from that molten center at the top of your thighs and you trained swimming vision on his retreating form. 

“Considering how sensitive you are normally..this is going to feel good for you.” He observed at normal volume. Casual. It was hard to determine if he was talking to you or thinking out loud. Either way it had you woozy again.

“Let’s satisfy that curiosity then, hmm? Get on the bed–on your back, please.” 

The bed was as comfortable as it had proved to be from your memory of all the previous times you laid here. Post sex. Pre sex. Gasping and sweating. Tangled up with Namjoon’s long limbs, lips sucking and pressing. Losing your mind under impossible thread count sheets. 

The coolness was a nice change as you set and scooted back until your feet were just at the end. Namjoon had walked away, then came back and laid something on the bed near your left leg. You tried to look but he kissed your shin and growled. 

“Eyes on me.” 

“The thing I’ve learned about exploring and pleasuring a woman is that it’s most important to have as much direct skin contact as possible. There’s so many nerve endings in every square inch. Maybe more than a man’s body..” He droned quietly, watching the dress slide up your skin, to the space just above your hips where it was narrow, then out again, up to your breasts. Then off into a haphazard pile on top of one nearby pillow. One of many barricading the headboard. 

As he commanded, you did, watching the crown of his head lower as he slid fingers up your legs, then your thighs, escaping up under the dress until he found the panties. They came down faster than his briefs. Bunched in his fist, he brought them to his nose, huffing deep and slow. Once soft, adoring eyes, hardened to something more primal. Hungry.

He dropped the panties on the bed near your foot and mounted the bed, crawling up between your calves, working them apart with his widely spread knees digging into the yielding plush of the memory foam mattress topper. 

“I’m..nervous..” It came out as Namjoon’s eyes roamed your naked skin. He’d been about to cup your breasts and paused, looking up again. 

“I get in my own head too, sometimes. Close your eyes for me. It helps..” 

“I can’t..” You were telling the whole truth. As heavy as your lids felt earlier, the nervousness was back, pinning your eyes wide open. Your belly trembled with several deep breaths. Namjoon watched your navel shivering as it rose and fell and cooed. 

“Sweetheart..” A spiral around the divot of your navel froze you. He followed down to your mound, riding the shape further. When he touched your hood your ass lifted off the bed a little and Namjoon growled again. 

“So responsive. There’s probably the most nerve endings here..” He swept the wide pad of his thumb over your clit, pulling the hood back and letting it slide back in place. Electricity crawled your scalp as you shuddered.

Your thighs fell away from each other and Namjoon moved both his knees wider, pinning them just a bit further apart. It felt good but the stretch at the center of your core wasn’t much diminished. The cool bedroom air washing over your folds helped for a second. 

“Let’s see..” He breathed, tracing the tip of his pointer finger around your hood, then dipping into your flesh and splitting your seal. It made your thighs shake as they tried to fight his strong muscles to no avail. The convulsion to snap shut was eliminated. It wasn’t happening so long as this man was kneeling between your legs. 

When his finger entered you it drew another lungful of air when you gasped. Your breasts arched, head pushing backwards into the bed. A low moan rippled up your throat as his finger pulled back and dove in again, deeper. It was a few plunges and he went to the last knuckle. 

“I…Oh my god..J..joon..please..” You keened, feeling drunk. Feeling like fire was running right up the center, splitting your pussy in half. Namjoon added a second finger after a few slow thrusts. Your eyes finally shut, upper body rolling sharply to one side. He planted his other palm gently onto your abdomen. 

“Now now..princess..” He chuckled. “That’s a common reaction. Feel good?” When your head snapped up and down he murmured approvingly. It was getting wetter. Sliding much too easily. You could hear the soft crackle of your pussy sucking up both digits when they dove in and retreated. 

But it went on for a while, the pleasure building in your belly in the form of a giant, heavy ball. Namjoon slowed, fingers paused inside you, to spiral this thumb against your clit. Your walls squeezed and he hissed through set teeth. 

“Fuck..that’s what I love. Finding the right spot and the squeezing—” He trailed off, dropping his head between your thighs. Latching onto your clit, Namjoon sucked, sawing his fingers firmer and faster, in and out. 

Minutes swam by. Before you knew it, he’d come up just enough to talk into the moist skin of your mound. Wetness clinging in ropes against his lips and your flesh as his lips moved. He sounded almost breathless. Excited. 

“Y/n…Baby..” He crooned. You couldn’t lift your head. Couldn’t open your eyes. Couldn’t do a damn thing but pull at his fingers with your aching muscles. You needed more than that, but it was almost too much at the same time.

The sensory overload told the same story: enough to override everything and have you cumming soon. You knew that buzzing in your flesh. You knew the tightening in the skin below your opening. You knew the spastic flutters when he sucked just hard enough or stabbed at just the right angle. 

Your body twisted, chest rising and falling in a fresh panic. You were close to a high that promised to be just as impressive as any session with a vibrator or riding this man’s perfect cock the few times you’d had it. 

Syllables left your lips. From the fragments Namjoon could glean enough that he was heading the right direction. Praise rained on your senses again as his fingers moved, deeper. Twisted and pressed. A third joined the first two and your spine straightened, heels digging into the bed. Namjoon leaned into his palm as he swept over your front wall and lightning crashed through your brain.

You stiffened, choking on nothing as pressure turned into a wash of ecstasy so unique. Different from the clit stimulation he’d been giving. He was watching your face, modest smile on his shining lips. 

“Like that… It’s a nice spot. Once you find it..you can’t leave it alone. You tell me when you can’t hold it anymore, Y/n. Don’t worry about what happens. Just relax and lean into it.” Whatever he was saying was vaguely registering. Instead your ass rocked up and down against the bed as he fucked his fingers into you firmer and faster. 

Your hands clawed the sheets. Found skin, bare and muscle, and sank against it, tugging. He didn’t change pace or pause. If it hurt, it wasn’t showing on his face. All that remained was Namjoon’s heavy stare, watching you like a hawk. 

Another stab right into that spot he’d massaged before and a wave of cold washed you from head to toe. Your spine changed to an S shape as you twisted two directions–from the waist up and down. 

“That’s it..” He snapped, breathing against you as he worked your pussy, stirring against your g spot. Pushing and probing like he was expecting any moment you’d blow. “Hold it as long as you can…. I know it’s a lot of pressure..you just want to push.. Just..a little more, Y/n..” 

He’d only finished the request and your mind whited as a massive, menacing clench seized your walls. You shrieked and shuddered, wrapping fingers around what had to be his forearm rising from the palm braced against your abdomen. 

“It’s…I…” You gurgled, going dizzy again. “P..please..” Pleading for no reason but also beaming every single ounce of desire that he NOT stop. The orgasm was so slow and explosive as it opened up inside you. 

The pressure exploded as something eventually rushed out of you, chasing Namjoon’s fingers as they slipped free. His distant, approving laugh was almost musical as you came. And continued to cum. Wet heat pooled below your ass and grew in size until it was clear: this wouldn’t be a modest little spot on clean white sheets. 

This would be something else entirely and the urge to push finally passed as you fell back against the bed. 

“Oh my god..” You lamented at full volume, forearm shielding your eyes as you turned away from the confusion and reality flooding in. Your chest still burned for air as you laid there, drinking in lungfuls. 

Namjoon hadn’t moved from where he’d been, except to lean down and lick a wide stripe across one nipple. Then he tugged with his lips and popped free. 

“Know what you just did, baby? It was so fucking hot..” 

“I’m sorry..” You bleated. “I…ruined your bed I—”

“No.” Namjoon barked against the underside of a breast as he rooted there, kissing. Sucking. Making art out of love bites ringing the plump, doughy flesh now bathed in a light sweat. “Your body responded perfectly. In the best way. Guess you didn’t know you had a g-spot did you?”

“..A what?” You replied. 

“Uh huh… Not every girl responds like that but god…YOU did. And I love it. So SO much. When it happens from my cock–”

“You can…make me feel like this on your cock?” 

“Mnnnhmmm.” He purred, coming up to lean over you, gazing down into your eyes. “The mess is even better. Something happens inside. Fucking through that kind of wetness… It’s such a beautiful, rare thing. There’s positions that work so good… We have some time tonight, if you want to explore them.” 

“Is that what YOU want?”

“I left the night up to you, Y/n.” He laughed quietly, bringing your head off the bed, cupped in the comfort of his palm, then his lips sank against you. Moans traded between you as your lips wrestled against Namjoon’s, drawing out his tongue and pushing it back with your own. 

He was SUCH an amazing kisser. You’d lost so much time kissing with partners who barely understood the first thing about a proper, satisfying kiss. Here Namjoon was, rectifying and rewriting history. 

After another long, deep, lingering kiss you spoke again. “Namjoon… What…what happened? What did I…do?”

“You ruined my sheets, Y/n.”

“God…you make it sound—”

“Shh. You never had this happen before?” 

“No. This is the first.. You’re my���first.” 

“Oh my god..” His eyes almost rolled up and shut as Namjoon’s chest boomed again with a long groan. “That’s going to make me pop… and I’m not even inside you. You handled my fingers as well as you took my cock. I really didn’t doubt it but…”

“But I..made a mess..” You wiggled underneath him, more aware of the rapidly cooling dampness under your ass. It was getting more unpleasant, which meant more understanding it was YOUR fault. 

“And it’s fucking HOT. I’ll take care of that. Promise me…you’ll let me make you do it again?” 

“Joon…god..” You buried your face against one broad shoulder and Namjoon didn’t pull away, nosing along your scalp. 

“I’m serious, baby. This isn’t something that we do once. We can explore it. I’m prepared to show you some other firsts in that vein of experience. Do you trust me?”

“Wouldn’t be at your place, naked, spread on your bed if I didn’t.” You scoffed. 

“Mmnnnn. And I’ll do what it takes to show you I love having you like this. Now… I’ll grab some water and a towel. You stay here, got it?” 

“Joon..” 

“Say yes, Y/n. This isn’t a debate. It’s a Yes or No.” 

“Yes.” You finally sighed, letting your body sink back into the bed when he pulled away, sat up, then backed down the bed to stand upright. You only watched so much as he turned and walked away, engorged cock slowly swaying and bobbing with every few steps until his shape disappeared from the view you had with the strength barely scraped from the meager remains. 

This beat the hell out of a fancy dinner with dishes you couldn’t pronounce. But that also meant another bonus: Namjoon spoiling you tonight: being your teacher and your cook. Your boyfriend. Your complete indulgence and the key to things you hadn’t even begun to learn about yourself. 

Which meant this night was going to be pretty damn good.

[hermajestyimher]

One of the things I've been pondering often on lately has been the overt level of infantilization of adults in our societies, not just Western but across many areas of the world.

This intrigue led me to read this amazing peace on the matter which I wholeheartedly agree with.

Throughout my life, I've often been referred to as "very mature for my age". That characterization may have been accurate and perhaps flattering during my early childhood and teens. Underneath it, there was a sea of trauma that forced me to grow faster than my peers. However, now at 24 years of age, I continue to get the same sort of comments, with many people being amazed at my intelligence or perspective of life at my age. I don't find those comments flattering but rather amusing at best and uncomfortable at worst. After much consideration, I've come to realize that as an adult entering my mid-20's I am not in any way "very mature for my age", instead, I simply do not behave in ways that are childish and inappropriate. That should be the standard and not the exception.

I often see around me how people, mostly men, in their mid 30's and 40's behaving like absolute children with no understanding of boundaries, wholly attached to unhealthy vices showcasing a total lack of self-control or discipline, with no regard at all for their physical appearance, with no ambition to grow as a person or getting educated by consuming truly edifying content. They resent many women for not giving them the time of day and the world around them for their shortcomings. They have no sense of accountability and self-awareness. They remain in this never-ending limbo of mediocrity and child-like ways that upon close observation ends up being extremely depressing.

I've also noticed similar patterns among some similarly aged peers of mine, and this time including women. It's genuinely shocking to see grown people derive their entire personality out of TikTok or Twitter trends, being unable to think about things critically and instead parroting the popular talking points they see having the most retweets and engagements, thus joining a hive mind as if they were still in high school following what is popular and requires little effort and independent thought.

Even our popular music is becoming more and more immature with lyrics and beat patterns designed to be consumed in numb and almost irrational ways. The kind of music we listen to dictates a lot of how we view the world.

Our politics have become a soap opera that drive with them hoards of cult-like followers behind the most stupid and caricaturesque ideas that lack the sophistication politicians used to have in the past. All while the decisions of the inept clowns the immature, and dumbed-down masses end up putting in power end up having negative consequences in our general lives. See people like Trump, Matt Gaetz, or Geroge Santos being elected to high positions in the most influential government in the world.

My belief is that if you know you are someone who strives for excellence and greatness in your life, you cannot succumb to the ways of the masses. You cannot emulate the trends and habits that are popular around you because those same habits are designed to keep you in a toxic loop of immaturity and stupidity. If you know you are destined for greatness, don't fall short of your potential by wanting to be like the rest. Those who stand out do so because they are different. Keep improving yourself, hitting your goals, continuing to grow and evolve, and rejecting stagnation and regressivism. You are above that.

[musings-of-a-rose]

Falling Slowly - Chapter 2

Pairing: Tommy Miller x f!reader

Word Count: 2400+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story. 

Notes: This started as a simple idea for Tommy. He had different ideas and I can’t say no to those freckles and smile. Thanks to @mermaidxatxheart for helping me get unstuck. You always have such great ideas!

And a big thanks to @wyn-n-tonic for helping me form thoughts and give this a little shape. I hope I can be a quarter as talented as you one day!

**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!

❤If you enjoy the fic, please consider giving me a warm beverage! (It is not required in any way!)

**Reader is not described. Divider made by @benkeibear

Main Masterlist

Falling Slowly Masterlist

Tommy Miller Masterlist

<<Chapter 1<<

“Would you rather never be able to wear pants or never be able to wear shorts?”

Tommy laughs, his entire body shaking it with it. “What kind of question is that?”

I smirk at him. “Just answer it.”

“I think you know the answer.”

“You do love your Daisy Dukes.”

Tommy pokes my rib and I flinch, giggling as I pull away from him. “Hey don’t attack me!”

Tommy lunges towards me, fingers outstretched as I scream, not moving fast enough to avoid his waggling fingers. They find their way into my sides, tears streaming down my face as I giggle uncontrollably, my body twitching to try and get away, but Tommy just pulls me in closer. 

“S-s-STOP!” I throw my entire body backwards on the couch to try and get away, but Tommy comes with me, pressing his body into mine. My laughs slowly subside as he stops tickling me, his eyes switching between mine and my lips. I swear he can feel my heart beating through my chest. 

“W-would you rather be balding but fit or overweight with a head full of hair?”

“Way to kill the mood.” Tommy was smiling, but he lifts himself off of me, extending his hand to help me up. 

“Which one, Tommy?”

He puffs out some air, eyes shifting up like he’s thinking. “This is a hard one. I mean, look at me.” He gestures to himself and I can’t help but look for just a brief moment. 

“Yes, yes. Very hot. Answer the question.”

“Have you seen this hair? I ain’t given’ it up.”

“That’s fair.”

We resume watching the movie and I lay my head on his broad shoulder, hoping that he can’t hear how my heart still beats through my chest.

It’s been the week from hell. Any minor inconvenience happened, mixing in with semi major issues, all contributing to my stress levels being over the top, even more so than normal. 

It’s Friday night and, like clockwork, Tommy knocks on my door at 7:30pm. He is annoyingly prompt. I’d almost cancelled tonight, but he's the one thing I look forward to every week.

“Hey Daisy!” Tommy is way too chipper for a Friday night after a week of hard work.

“Hey.”

He whistles. “That bad, huh?”

“You have no idea.”

“Good thing I brought this then.” Tommy holds up a case of beer. “I’ve cleared my schedule for a good hangover tomorrow if needed.”

I can’t help the small smile that creeps across my face. “Thanks. Pizza just got here about 5 minutes before you did.” 

“Great. I’m starvin’. Oh, I managed to snag Gladiator for tonight.”

“Pop it in.”

We sit and eat, making commentary on the movie. But no matter how hard I try, I just can’t seem to at least hide my frustration. Something that I was desperately trying to hide from Tommy - he doesn’t need to deal with my shit on top of his. Unfortunately, I’m not as slick as I think, and Tommy is way sweeter than he should be. Maybe laying on his shoulder wasn’t such a great idea. The movie quiets, dialogue happening between some of the characters, and Tommy leans his head on mine.

“You ok?”

I sigh. “I’m fine.”

“Don’t sound fine.”

“It’s just work.”

“Stressing you out again?”

“Just one of those weeks where anything that could go wrong, did. And anything that could take as long as humanly possible, did.”

“You need to let out some of that stress. It’s not healthy.”

I laugh. “Duh. Why didn’t I think of that?”

He’s quiet for a moment and I think I hurt his feelings. But before I can apologize, he speaks quietly.

“You know what you need? You need to get laid. You’re not getting any which really doesn’t help with the stress.”

What did he just say? Did he just suggest I get laid to calm down? Wait, is he offering?

“Yeah well, that may be, but in order to get laid, I’d have to have a boyfriend.”

“Not necessarily.”

“Are you suggesting I go find some random guy to hookup with?”

“N-no. Not some random guy.”

“Then who?”

He pauses. “Me.”

What?

I sit up, turning to stare at him, hoping my mouth isn’t hanging open like it is in my head. He chuckles nervously, eyes darting around the room, barely staying on me, his hands rubbing down his thighs over his jeans.

“You know what? That was stupid. I didn’t mean-”

"We'd have to set some ground rules."

Tommy's eyes snap to mine. "You..You're serious?"

"I am."

Tommy shifts in his seat, straightening himself out while trying to look chill and relaxed.

"Like, uh, like what-what exactly?"

"Hhmm… well, we still remain friends."

"That's a given."

“If one person wants to leave immediately…after, that’s ok. No obligation to stay.”

“Sounds good.”

"We can't get jealous if the other person wants to date someone else."

He’s silent a moment. “Seems fair.”

“And…oh, if either of us wants to call it off, it’s off. No hard feelings.”

“Oh, I can’t promise I won’t have hard feelings,” Tommy smirks at his joke as I roll my eyes, a smile on my face.

“Deal?” I stick my hand out.

Tommy looks at my hand. “Oh darlin’. That’s not how we’re sealin’ this deal.”

A rush of wet goes straight between my thighs and I try to swallow back the sound I just made. 

Tommy chuckles darkly while he shakes my now sweaty hand. “Deal.”

He pulls me close, his large, warm hand coming up to cradle my cheek, fingers wrapping around the back of my head and winding their way into my hair. His lips are just above mine, his breath warm and hot on mine. 

“Are you sure, darlin’?”

My head is full of desire, Tommy’s scent surrounding me, his hand grounding me to him, but I manage a nod.

“Yes,” I sigh.

He presses his lips to mine, soft and warm, tasting slightly of tobacco, as they gently push mine apart, his tongue sliding into my mouth. My hands slide up his broad chest, settling there for a moment as we both moan and get lost in a kiss that feels like we had both had been waiting for.

I throw my leg over his lap and straddle him, my hands sliding up to his face to tug at his curls at the back of his head. He moans and I do too, rolling my hips to get some kind of friction on my rapidly heating cunt. Tommy’s hands grip my hips, guiding me and helping me grind down more as I whine into his mouth and feel him harden under his jeans. 

I throw my head back, gasping out his name as he kisses my chest, pulling at the hem of my shirt. I get the hint, yanking my shirt from me and throwing it across the room, my fingers already undoing my bra clasp before my shirt hits the floor, the bra joining it a moment later.

“Oh shit!” I cry out, as Tommy latches onto one of my nipples, sucking, licking, and nibbling as he still guides my hips to roll over his jean–clad erection. He switches to the other side, moaning when I tug his hair more. 

Suddenly, he stands, sliding his hands under my ass as I wrap my legs around him, our lips finding each other as he marches down the hall to my room, kicking the door open. I giggle as he tosses me on the bed, grabbing my ankles and yanking me towards the edge of it. A quick glance up at me for a final confirmation, and my enthusiastic nod has him undoing my pants, quickly sliding them off and tossing them behind him. He stares down at my panties and I’m grateful that I actually wore cute ones today instead of my regular "I don't give a fuck" underwear. He reaches for my pant line but I stop him.

“Wait…you have entirely too many clothes on.”

He smirks, his eyes darkening even more. “You’re absolutely right.”

He sheds his shirt and while I knew how he was built, it was never in this situation. Outside of my fantasies, of course. He undoes the button on his jeans, sliding them down and off, balancing on each foot to take off his socks, both of us giggling as he nearly falls over in doing so. Then he’s back by me, fingers dancing at the hem of my panties for a moment before he hooks his fingers in, sliding them down and off, his eyes never leaving my pussy.

“Fuck, you’re prettier’n I imagined.”

He leans his head down, but I put my hand out to stop him. He looks up at me from between my legs, concern on his face.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Do you not want me to?”

I can feel the heat coming off my cheeks because yes, I very much want him to do that. “No, of course I do. Like, I really do….But we agreed to sex and you don’t have to do all of…this.” I wave my hand around, aiming it between my thighs.

“Darlin’, we agreed to be friends with benefits. Not friends with some benefits. You get my dick, but you also get my mouth too.”

And before I can say anything else, he licks up the center of me and I whine, my back pushing further into the bed as he pries my legs open wider, using his broad shoulders to hold them open. He licks at me like he’d been dying to do this the entire time we’ve known each other, sucking gently and nibbling at my inner thigh. His finger comes up to my entrance as he rubs slow, small circles there, gathering up my arousal before slowly pushing in. I cry out, hands fisting in the sheets as he pulls his finger out, adding another as he pushes in, curling his finger and tapping until he found the spot I desperately hoped he would find. 

“There! Oh shit, there!”

He scissors his fingers, licking and sucking at my clit and my hand flies out, gripping those beautiful curls. I look down at him between my thighs and he must feel my eyes on him. He looks up at me and smirks, his tongue darting out to lick at my clit and that’s all it takes to have my thighs shaking, twitching under his shoulders as I cry out random words. Once I come down, he crawls up my body, leaving little kisses on my skin as he goes, sucking on a spot on my neck as he grinds his still cloth covered dick into my soaked pussy. 

“You want it rough or slow, darlin’?”

“You have multiple settings?”

He chuckles. “Yes, ma’am. Now, how do you want to be fucked today?”

He’s going to kill me.

“Tommy, you can rail me as fast or as slow as you want, so long as you make me forget my hard week. I won’t break.”

“Fuck, darlin’, you may just kill me yet.” He pulls back, getting off the bed and reaching for the hem of his boxer briefs. “Safe word is tomatoes.”

Before I can question it, he slides his boxers down and kicks them off, standing upright in his full, naked, broad chested, well endowed glory. He smirks when he sees me staring at him. Tommy crawls up my body again, his lips finding mine as he slides his large cock through my folds. He pauses at my leaking entrance, pulling back to look at me. His hand comes up to grip my chin and when I look at him, he slowly pushes inside of me. 

While he’s not porn star large, he’s definitely the most endowed man I’ve ever slept with and damn does he know what he’s doing. I can feel every inch of him filling me up, pushing at the back of me, his breath hot on my face as he watches it contort in pleasure. He pulls out and pushes in slowly a few more times to allow me to adjust before he snaps his hips, pushing himself inside even further and I cry out. He sets an increasingly rough pace, snapping his hips against mine, adding that extra thrust that I swear is going to bruise me and I don’t even care. He turns my head to the side and nibbles at my earlobe, kissing down my neck gently, in stark contrast to the rough, deep thrusts he’s fucking me with and it’s all too much and not enough, my legs wrapping around him, willing him to do more. He pulls back slightly, pushing my legs up and hooking them under his arms as he continues to rail me at this new angle, hitting multiple spots simultaneously. 

“Oh God, Tommy!” I scream his name as I come, my hands fisting the sheets, head thrown back, nearly buried in the mattress. 

He keeps the pace but brings a hand up to my clit, rubbing circles there, only needing a few moments before he coaxes another orgasm from me, this one harder than the last as I scream his name again.

“Fuck, Tommy, fucking come inside of me!”

“Fuck!” Tommy rams his hips into me a few more sporadic times as he comes, panting out heavy words as he fills me up, our heavy breaths the only sound in the near silent room. 

He pulls out of me with a hiss, walking into my bathroom and getting a couple of washcloths wet. He comes back out and cleans me up, chuckling as my thighs twitch when he dabs at my overstimulated cunt. He chucks them in my hamper and comes back to the bed, sitting on it next to me, where I haven’t moved since he got off of me. 

“You ok, darlin’? Forget your hard week?”

“Mmmhmm,” I say, my eyes heavy with post fucking bliss. “You’re amazing at that, Tommy.”

“Ah, I do alright.”

“A Fucking King.”

He laughs. “I’m making a shirt.”

He slides into bed next to me, pulling me next to him as he wraps his body around mine.

“You cuddle too?”

“Only when I’m cold.” I can feel him holding back a laugh.

“Well, if your cock gets cold, and I’m asleep, you have my permission to put it inside of me.”

I feel his dick twitch behind me. “I may hold you to that.”

Tommy did take me up on my offer, softly thrusting into me from behind as he rubs slow circles into my clit. I wake to an orgasm, quietly moaning his name as he comes again, biting my shoulder as he does. 

But as we make breakfast, Tommy laughing and joking around, still trying to tickle me as we flip the pancakes, it hits me.

I am totally fucked, in more ways than one.

>>Chapter 3>>

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[do-you-have-a-flag]

sorry to come back to this but this truly fascinates and concerns me for so many reasons

obligatory "Ah sweet. Man-made horrors beyond my comprehension." comment

so first of all: brain organoids. which are grown from human stem cells into just little brains with underdeveloped eyes, they have a lifespan of about 100 days because they are an organ without a system.

these brain organoids are something that have a lot of potential when it comes to studying any number of things. just off the top of my head i would think- the process of human development, disease studies, healing tissue development, foetal and premature development of consciousness, ect ect ect i'm not informed on this type of research so i will freely admit idk.

and they are using 16 at a time as processors with computer chips. okay sure, scifi aside, the structure of an organ being used for it's complexity compared to the limitations of material and efficiency in current technology makes sense. if it helps imagine if a branch or a kidney were hooked up to a computer chip and we found out that it worked as good or better than mechanical processors for a fraction of the energy use. i am also not informed on how most technology works, please keep in mind, but i am also not opposed to the idea of combining these types of technologies in theory. and the biggest downfall currently is short shelf-life of the organoids required.

but the thing is, i think, that this is specifically an early development of a brain, at what point is consciousness defined? there is no sensory system beyond the basic light perception of the eyes and the input to the brain but at what point is the responses automatic and at what point is it complex enough to be aware in some abstract way. this question is one that can be applied to any form of animal of course.... but i think also that it is strange that these organoids are being specifically developed from human stem cells and not any number of other animal as a brain is a brain and at the small scale they are growing these organoids most of the speculative benefits of human logic are irrelevant- they are operating at pre mature infant levels which could just as easily be achieved by any number of apes cells surely?

is there going to be a developmental cut off for these organoids? at what point of biological development is the ethical ick factor for consciousness? because of how stem cells are able to be harvested in a non destructive fashion things like lab grown meat make sense to me- those are consumed but can also offset the requirements for the meat industry- and if these organoids are also grown from stem cells that's great but at what point is making that many to be burnt through as processors a wasteful use when there are other possible avenues of study? the wide commercial release of such experimental tech seems a little risky considering how quickly new technologies are exploited- just look at bitcoin farms and ai scraping- for the sake of profit with no care for ethical implementation or construction or impact.

this is a weird post from me but sorry i just have some questions i want you the person reading this to think about with me, seperate to any deep reading of the science because i wanna focus on the personal reaction to the concepts, (feel free to read the science tho i encourage it) just something to chew on i'm not expecting any philosophically concrete answers:

would you use the brain organoid processor tech if you had the chance?

why?

Why is it important that these have to be grown from human stem cells

where is the line between organ and being/consciousness

let's contend: there is the world (physical) and there is the senses (contact with the physical) and there is the experience (interpretation)

is it the senses or the experience that makes a creature conscious? how complex do the senses need to be before the experience is positive or negative?

where is that experiencial definition? is it as simple as feels good feels bad?

is it the tendency to circulate repeatedly on the same neural pathway? how are those neurological reactions controlled? are they controlled?

how do you feel about scientific testing on humans?

how do you feel about scientific testing on animals?

how do you feel about scientific testing on plants?

how do you feel about scientific testing on fungi?

how do you feel about scientific testing on single celled organisms?

how do you feel about scientific testing on organs?

how do you feel about scientific testing on technology?

what do you consider the line to be for ethical research? is it funding? is it theory versus practice? is it use of information? is it method of data collection? is it intent? is it implementation? is it within a limitation of precedent? is it within a limitation of subject? are there areas you think should be left alone on principle? why?

what level of complexity is required for the question of consent of participant?

where should limitations be imposed on use? why would limitations be necessary? who has the right to information? who has the right to profit?

Who is profiting from these studies? where will this technology be used? who is competing with this technology? what other technologies might this impact? will other technologies using the same concept adhere to the same limitations/ethics?

do you think everyone using the brain organoid based processors for $500pcm are thinking about these questions? should they have to?

disclaimer: i am uneducated and uninformed in the fields of science and technology so this is one hundo percent a personal response to information i have very little context for. But i also think it's important to think actively about technology and avoid complacency about the way it impacts our lives so doing little thought exercises in response to articles like this is, I think, a good thing.

[incorrect-ikevamp-quotes]

Oh we are so BACK

When I tell you I saw this and died. HELLO?????

I keep hiding my face lahshjsdhjgfsaf HE HAS NO RIGHT. NO RIGHT AT ALL BEING THAT SEXILY INTENSE AAAAAAAAAAA

Anyway, I should probably try to make some attempt at describing the event since. If I don't I'll just be barking/crying/hiding my face for the next twelve hours.

Basically--and I'm not sure this is going to be across the board, but it held true for Napoleon and Sebastian at least--each suitor has a birthday event this year instead of a separate story. Comte's won't be released until tomorrow, but they have posted a preview.

From what I gather, he talks a little bit about himself and reveals parts of his past that haven't come to light in the game yet. There wasn't really enough to convey a coherent narrative beyond attending a party, but the line displayed here does get across the larger theme:

Comte: (I don't need momentary pleasure or ephemeral affection any longer. Now that I know love, there's nothing but you.)

He talks about how the aristocracy have thrown parties and extravagant celebrations for his birthday for most of his life. But none of it has ever really made him happy, largely because he knows that they are attempts to strengthen and broadcast power relations within high society. While I don't think he means it's entirely devoid of well wishes, I do think he sees it as a nexus of influence--and thus, by nature, impersonal. And honestly, I don't think he's wrong about that; the higher the echelon in social standing, the more it requires performance to maintain the position.

That being said, there is a fascinating flashback where he remembers a pureblood telling him about how falling in love with a human is an experience of another caliber entirely. My understanding is that Comte was still a fairly young vampire at the time, so he didn't really understand what the person was getting at. It seems like the other pureblood was trying to convey the difference in feeling, perhaps the fact that humans are more grounded in accordance with how they live--the reality and necessity of change.

After reading this--and the recent 5th bday story--I can absolutely see how change is something Comte has a complicated relationship with. He's known a certain way of life for so long, has constructed a sensibility of distant, rational maturity. After all the heartbreak of his youth, and two very acute traumatic events in his life, I can see why he'd be so afraid of broaching any kind of proximity with another person. Because on some level it's so much easier not to put your feelings on the line, to never have to fear devastating loss. And that's to say nothing of the worry of being unable to measure up on behalf of another person, of letting them down.

I'm so excited to see the rest of the contents, but something about the preview made me equal parts giddy and enamored (all I do is kick my feet with excitement LOL). I think what gets to me with Comte is that he truly does love companionship as a place to rest, a place where he can be honest about himself and his feelings without fear of ridicule (and the same goes for MC). In a world increasingly obsessed with surface level performances of power, status, and emotion, it's hard not to feel his exhaustion to the core.

Also, because these lines at the end more or less destroyed me in the best possible way:

MC: ...The you who had nowhere to belong no longer exists. In much the same way...Abel, I belong to you. Comte: ... Comte: I wish I could say to myself all those years ago, the me who kept indulging in such paltry things. Comte: Until you meet MC, you will never know love... The warmth of MC in my arms filled me with such joy I was near tears. (I don't need momentary pleasure or ephemeral affection any longer. Now that I know love, there's nothing but you.) The moment my lips found hers, the sweetness lit a fire deep in my body. Comte: These cute lips that melt against mine, the heat of your skin, the love that envelops me in your embrace--always leaves me so deeply in love with you.

[ethereal-lost-dreamer]

Luz achieved everything without having to lose anything.

There is two things that marked the conclusion of Luz's journey and resulted in contradicting much of what was established about her: the absence of sacrifice and when a conflict occurs it ends up being quickly resolved.

Since the first season, an expectation was given that Luz was not a character who was based on the archetype of 'The Chosen One', that the problems she would have to face could not be magically solved through conveniences and works of destiny - reflected in her personality in the first season, being naive about the reality of circumstances, basing life occurrences on the trajectory of a fictional plot, emphasized from the belief that 'magic comes from the heart' -, which gave her an eventual conflict that differs the protagonists who evolve with the protagonists who only arrive at the end of the story: the need to lose in order to win.

While the events of the first season were dedicated to establishing Luz's place in the Boiling Islands, the relationships she was introduced to, and her new discoveries, the second season, in theory, was supposed to present the difficulties and conflicts that Luz would have to face after having obtained so many additions to her life that required her to fight to keep it. Then came 'Yesterday's Lie', addressing the potential biggest conflict that the Luz would have to deal with: having to choose to remain in the Human Realm with her mother and give up all of her friends and loved ones in the Demon Realm.

Luz was immediately exposed to the realization that there would not be a solution to all problems, that choices must be made and giving up what has been conquered to remain firm and could immediately put her on a level of undeniable maturity, having to deal with a psychological pressure that could only have its outcome achieved through attitudes with unpleasant consequences, however necessary. There were problems, there was a need to face them, and that made her human, including making her very much identified with the viewer when addressing the conflict of the need to make choices that would please some and hurt others. But then came the biggest and most serious decline in Luz's character development: the third season.

Up to that point in the show, Luz had not had to deal directly with the need to face conflicts and seek appropriate solutions; they were just released as an accumulation of problems and left in the expectation of receiving outcomes. Questions, not answers.

Then the conveniences and facilitations emerged: having to deal with choosing to stay with her mother or staying in the Boiling Isles? Don't worry, because Camila watched Luz's outburst video and changed her fear of not having her around (even though it was fueled by the literal loss of her husband, which would hardly make anyone capable of dealing with another family 'loss');

not knowing how to confess very serious secrets and keep them hidden from her friends? Don't worry, when they find out everyone is simultaneously united in forgiving her and understanding her attitudes, a problem solved; the fear of ending up no longer having the confidence of her friends and loved ones? Don't worry, everyone continues to support Luz, regardless of any circumstances.

There was no discussion, disagreement or simply demanding an explanation from Luz, instead everything was resolved with mutual and almost immediate understanding and the consensus that she was overloaded.

So, with 'For the Future' it was already established that the plot unfolded in order to benefit Luz on her journey towards a still slightly uncertain conclusion. The true nature of the problem came with 'Watching and Dreaming', precisely in Luz's death and how the whole development took her to a point that marks the absence of challenges to be faced by any protagonist: Deus ex machina.

From that point on, nothing could stop Luz: she was given enough power to eliminate the greatest threat through an entity conveniently present at the right time, she managed to eliminate the problem with all her friends and loved ones being fine at the end and ready to restore the Boiling Isles.

In the end, all the fears and uncertainties that Luz had turned out to be entirely unnecessary given the fact that she achieved everything without having to face any consequences. Without the rest of the Titan, would there be no way for her to do magic anymore? In the literal last few minutes it showed that it would no longer be a problem thanks to yet another new solution; choose where to stay? Now she has free access to both the Human Realm and the Boiling Isles whenever she wants; all friends, family and girlfriend are with her, in oneness with each other and loving her unconditionally.

The Owl House ended, and Luz remained the same protagonist full of life, with the desire to learn about all the magic at the same time and managing to live her life both normally and being in her dreamed world of fantasy.

The biggest problem with all this decline is the fact that Luz is no longer an identifiable character with the conflicts she should face.

Her trajectory was marked by a growing accumulation of difficulties and challenges to be faced, but they ended up being solved in favor of not giving her a conclusion that demonstrates that she has matured and learned lessons with her choices. Losses were not necessary, giving up achievements was not addressed and it was not even considered not having a life exactly as she would like, however it was necessary in the face of the circumstances that would move her to learn to live and remain firm.

Emphasizing that happy endings are equally worthy, however the case of Luz and especially of The Owl House ended up being a conclusion whose challenges did not truly make it deserved to obtain a completely happy ending and devoid of choices that would significantly affect the conclusion of the story in a way to have consequences.

[khaire-traveler]

Will the gods mind if I go into periods of stagnancy where I can do little to no active worship? I struggle with a lot of mental illness and am typically very busy so there are periods during which I cannot do my typical prayer and conversing and such

Hey, Entity,

I feel this post by @doves-of-aphrodite puts my thoughts on this matter the best. I feel that the love and care of deities are not so surface level as to disappear when someone isn't able to actively worship.

I've said it before, and I'll say it again: I feel every worshipper should go a period without giving offerings. For me, it changed my perspective on worship entirely. Just as you ask for help from loved ones without always giving immediately in return, I feel we are allowed to ask for help from deities without being able to give immediately in return. Kindness that is only given with the expectation of receiving in return shouldn't be the cornerstone of a relationship, in my opinion.

Of course, it's healthy to return the favor, especially to show appreciation and care, but that shouldn't be an "always expectation" that happens every single time you ask for help. The relationship becomes more of a formal exchange to me, and that's personally not what I look for when interacting with deities. For me, when a deity relationship is built solely on offerings and nothing else, there is this neverending pressure to give and give and give, and it discourages me from reaching out when I need help because I'm unable to give in that moment. That discouragement isn't a good thing if it prevents you from communicating with your deities. They aren't a bank that keeps a record of the debt you pay back to them; they are beings with the ability to care for and love humans, and the maturity to understand that humans sometimes don't have the ability to immediately give back.

All of this is to say that I don't think it's healthy to put so much pressure on ourselves to immediately provide an offering of thanks. It can easily consume a deity relationship, in my experience, and make a relationship feel much less personal and much more conditional. It's ok to take your time with things. If you feel guilty, maybe just let the deity know that it will take you some time before you can give an offering directly. I'm certain they have the ability to show you some grace for that.

Also, I believe it's extremely important to remember that worship doesn't always come in the form of giving a physical offering. Worship can be subtle, such as listening to a playlist you create for them, saving pictures on a Pinterest board that reminds you of them, or even just taking care of yourself as an act of devotion. You could even just offer a glass of water and proceed to drink that water, and that can be an act of worship. It doesn't need to be this huge and elaborate thing where you dedicate some lengthy ritual and a luxurious offering. It's ok if your worship is much more subtle for a time. You're allowed to worship in seemingly small ways. Those small things add up to a pretty solid relationship built on genuine care - enough care to think of a deity while going about your day.

Even with this idea of subtle worship, however, you still are not required to give a ton of offerings or put a ton of effort into worship when you're unable to. I believe that deities would prefer us to take care of ourselves first, rather than expending every last drip of energy on devoting ourselves to them. Take care of you for now. Your deities aren't going anywhere.

I hope this helped you. This is, of course, based on my personal practice, and there is no right way of going about worship or anything of the sort. There are no rules or guidelines that we must follow; we make of it what we see fit. Take care, and have a good day/night. 🧡