#sweet temptation headers

[adrianvokov]

headers cassiogiulia like

[ahqkas]

“MILLION DOLLAR MAN — bruce wayne.

PAIRING! bruce wayne 𝒙 fem!reader SYNOPSIS! bruce met you through a dating app (his sons’ doing, really) and the temptation to invite you over for christmas is getting harder to resist WORD COUNT! 3.6k WARNINGS / TAGS! fluff, bruce is literally down bad for reader in this one, unedited + lmk if found! NOTES! for nat & based on this req. , header bellow belongs to @/v6que © ahqkas — all rights reserved. even when credited, these works are prohibited to be reposted, translated or modified

BRUCE WAYNE AVOIDED RELATIONSHIPS LIKE A SOLDIER DODGING BULLETS, each attempt adding yet another layer to the armor he wore daily. He didn’t need them, the women, or so he told himself. They entered his life easily — at his own charity galas, where one pretty bird thought she could get a kiss from him by the end of the night. Female admirers who ate up his charming smiles and sharp eyes seemed to flock around him at all times. And those countless girls who were lured in by the Wayne name, the status, the wealth.

And Bruce gave them the attention they craved from him.

The women served their purpose as brief districtions, companions who helped him maintain his public image, but none of them really mattered to him.

They kept the colder side of his bed warm, but never his heart.

It wasn’t that Bruce didn’t want love — some part of him did, but that part was buried under the weight of Batman. Allowing himself to lose the walls around him and find an attachment in a woman wasn't something his alter ego was okay with, not with the way he’d been living. And another part convinced him that his duties as Gotham’s protector, with all his scars and wounds, didn’t make him a possible object for such things. Love and vigilantism didn’t mingle together well.

Maybe that’s why his own sons and personal butler teamed up on him. Batman was a hero to many, but with how much it damaged Bruce’s internal beliefs, it would ruin him soon enough.

It started as something innocent (but it seemed the wolf was clothed in sheep’s wool): Dick, his oldest, had teased him about his non-existent love life during a training session in the Batcave.

The large space was full with flickering lights coming from the monitors and grunts from the fighting men. Sweat filled the air, masculine and strong, but that only indicated to the hard work they were doing. Training wasn’t easy, they liked to train with the maximum intensity ( it was kinda needed, too ) and it showed. From their damp hair and glistening skin to the rippling muscles underneath their clothes.

“You know, Bruce,” his son started when he blocked yet another strike coming from the man in question. A puff of air left his mouth upon the attack. Not fair. “for someone who spends his nights saving people, you sure are terrible at saving yourself from eternal loneliness.”

Bruce delivered another jab, this one directed straight at Dick’s weak point. “Not now, Dick.”

But his son was nothing if not persistent and he always got what he wanted, whether it was with or without serious consequences. “I’m serious. When was the last time you went on a date? And don’t try to tell me you had one on your arm during the last charity event. That doesn’t count.”

Both of them fully knew Bruce’s arm candies were way more interested in his name and money than in his heart and soul. The truth made his jaw muscles tighten at the realization.

“My personal life is irrelevant to my work.”

Dick took the opportunity and circled the older man like a predator catching the prey’s scent of blood. A sweet weakness, that one. He’d be stupid if he didn’t take the chance. “Is it though? I mean, sure, you’re great at taking down supervillains and brooding on top of high rooftops, but even Batman needs a little action sometimes. The different kind of action, of course. Or are you planning to spend the rest of your life married to the job?”

Bruce swiped his right leg toward Dick’s shins, trying to take him down like he was the said supervillain but the acrobat jumped right on time, avoiding Bruce’s attempt with a grin on his face.

He landed on his feet and crossed his arms at his chest, leaning the weight of his body against one leg. The playfulness disappeared from both his voice and expression and instead, seriousness graced him whole. “Seriously, Bruce, even Alfred’s worried. He brought it up the other day while we were decorating the tree. Something about how the manor feels colder than usual this year.”

“The heating system is fine.”

With Jason gone, it was the truth. His second son had this strange relationship with all the members of the family. Off and on. Off and on. No one truly knew where they stood in Jason’s eyes but he made the effort and showed up on Christmas Eve the other year upon receiving Alfred’s invitation.

Bruce doubted he would show up two years in a row.

“That’s not what he meant, and you know it,” Dick pressed, and effectively added more salt into Bruce’s wounds. It stung and it fucking hurt. As much as Batman was ruthless, it didn’t mean the man under the mask was resistant against the pain his life brought. “You’re not getting any younger, B. It wouldn’t kill you to let someone in. And I don’t mean us. Try to meet someone who isn’t friendly with a criminal record.”

The older man could only stare helplessly at the other. Those words his son, partner, spoke were loud, crawling their way into his mind and much to his dismay, his heart as well.

Before he could voice his dismissal, a younger voice called out. It was familiar in a way family tended to be.

“You are wasting your breath, Grayson. Father has neither the time nor the inclination to entertain your nonsense,” his youngest son declared into the space of Batcave, his voice ringing out and echoing every single word. The blood son, Damian Wayne.

The father didn’t even flinch, just let out a deep sigh through his nose. It was as usual between those two, always bickering from Damian’s side and teasing remarks from Dick’s. You could mistake the blood running through their system as one, if not for the physical differences. They were brothers in all but red.

“Damian,” Dick started in that lecturing tone he’d always seemed to use with the younger boy, “when was the last time you saw Bruce here even try to have a social life?”

Damian rolled his eyes, the green disappearing behind his eyelids before they reappeared, rougher than they were. “The so called ‘social life’ you’re referring to consists of women who barely last through dinner. Why would he waste his energy on distractions when Gotham requires his full attention?”

“Because even Batman needs a break. You know, normal human things? Like dating, smiling, not dying alone in this cave surrounded by bats?”

“If Father is content with his choices, who are you to meddle? Unlike you, he does not require constant companionship to validate his existence.”

“Ouch,” Dick put his palm against his heart in a mocking manner, feigning hurt as his lips formed a pout. “You’ve got a real gift for the Christmas spirit, don’t you?”

The younger son narrowed his eyes at his supposed brother. The constant bickering was almost normal in their lives so far, and nothing seemed to be changing any time soon. He had to learn how to live with the excuse of a brother, although he started to form a light liking towards him. He wasn’t so bad. “I only speak the truth,” his green irises flicked to Bruce. “Though it is peculiar he tolerates your interference. Perhaps even Father has realized how pathetic his current romantic life—or lack thereof—appears.”

The object of the conversation let out another sigh, this one loud enough for the boys to hear. Their gazes snapped toward Bruce with accusingly great speed.

“If you two are done debating my personal life, there’s actual work to be done.”

He missed the glance his oldest threw at the youngest. He missed the look filled with amusement and a plan that was already brewing. He missed the nod they gave each other, although Dick’s was more pronounced and determined.

The next few hours were spent creating Bruce’s dating app profile.

The final result was the definition of real sugar daddy vibes. Every detail had been debated (mostly argued over though) and thought through, so to say the boys were satisfied with it was an understatement. The oldest prided in the work, saying how it would get so many women to reply which would eventually lead to the right one. The middle one Dick and Damian (only Dick) dragged into the activity beamed up once the profile was set while the youngest scoffed and scowled during the entire process.

During the next evening, the boys showed the main man his new account.

Bruce was left speechless upon seeing the bright screen flash before his eyes. Not a single word was muttered as he watched his boys showing him the app and explaining how exactly it worked (he’d never used a dating app before all this so bear with him). The main photo on the profile was a candid one of him, the one Cass had taken on a sunny day in the Wayne Manor gardern. He was dressed in a crisp white shirt, the long sleeves rolled up past his elbows as the muscles of his forearms bulged up. The faintest smile tugged at the corner of his lips, the sunlight casting shadows across his sharp features and Bruce had to admit they chose a good photo.

It wasn’t intimidating, but it wasn’t exactly friendly as well. The good old middle.

The boys knew he was convinced to give it a try when he waved them off with a deep sigh slipping past his lips.

The game was on.

It was past the midnight when he lied in his bed, propped against one too many pillows and wondered why he was still scrolling through the damned dating app. It was late—far past the time he should have been out on patrol, but Red Hood and Red Robin got it covered for him.

Bruce wasn’t looking for anything specific, really. If he were honest, this whole situation felt out of place for him. Swiping through the profiles was more like an exercise for his thumb.

First was Madison K. Her profile opened with flashy colors that immediately put Bruce into a doubtful situation. Were all these women going to be like this? Madison was beautiful and her looks screamed professionalism: her makeup was done flawlessly, adorning her bright eyes and full lips. She looked like she belonged on a cover for a fashion magazine, not a dating app. Her bio made his thumb swipe left.

‘Manifesting my best life. CEO of my own happiness. Looking for someone who’s successful, ambitious, and knows how to treat me like a queen.’

The next account’s bio made him grimace and swipe left once again.

‘Looking for someone who can keep me living the dream. If you’re successful, generous, and ready to spoil me, let’s talk.”

At this point, Bruce was ready to delete the dating app his boys set up and enjoy the rest of his night. Most of the profiles he swiped through were simply bland to him. Nothing felt genuine. Right. It was safe to say he was losing the hope Dick had set in him earlier in the evening. Until he stumbled upon your profile.

The account stood out among the others—simple, elegant, but with a certain amount of warmth that seemed genuine. Bruce’s heart skipped a beat once he scrolled further and came across your photo. The picture showed you in a cozy cafe, the one Steph adored so much for their cinnamon roll buns. A soft smile danced on your pretty face, highlighting the curve of your cheeks as you looked off to the side. You captured Bruce in a way the others didn’t.

You looked like a fawn surrounded by hungry wolves. You were admirable while they were craving wealth and status. Two different sides of a coin, but Bruce had already known his pick.

Your bio was sincere, a sight the man liked to see.

‘I enjoy the little moments — finding beauty in the simple things. I believe in kindness, and I’m looking for someone who values honesty and a deep conversation.’

His mind flicked briefly toward the countless hours he spends in the cave, surrounded by work and worries. You seemed like the one who could understand the balance between the quiet and the loud, someone who could exist in both of his worlds without losing that spark you held in your gaze.

Before he could overthink it, Bruce clicked on the “message” button.

Once the screen of your non-existent chat appeared, his mind went blank and all he was capable of was to stare mindlessly at the phone. His fingers hovered over the keyboard, but no words came to him. What did one say to someone like you? He wasn’t used to thinking ahead when it came to women. This was a new field. And he couldn’t screw up.

Finally, his fingers moved before his mind could think of whatever embarrassing thing it was capable of.

> Hey, I noticed your profile and wanted to reach out. There’s something about your words that struck a chord with me. I’d like to know more about you.

And that’s how the two of you started your relationship, or whatever you could call it. Neither of you voiced it as official, but that was okay. He hadn’t expected to feel this way, not so soon. And yet it came at him, crashing like a large wave of emotions every time you were around. You changed everything for him.

Your conversations became the highlight of his days.

His ears perked up every single time without a fail when he heard the soft ‘ping!’ of the notification, already convinced it was from you (and it 98 percent was). Whether it was early in the morning before he started working in the chaotic Wayne Enterprises or late at night when the Batcave was quiet and felt at peace. You were always there with him.

You were thoughtful, generous, and refreshingly kind. You asked him questions that no one else dared to: what he wanted from life, what made him happy, what kept him awake at night. You didn’t flinch at his silence. You didn’t push him to give answers he wasn’t ready to share. You understood him in a way only a few people did.

Piece by piece, he let you into his world — not that part filled with constant danger and threats, but that part that longed for something real.

By the time Christmas approached, Bruce was sure of one thing: he wanted you in his life.

The holiday was just around the corner, filling the air with joy and gratitude as it always did. The snow was blanketing the streets with white powder, and although many people were complaining about the cold, it had its charm.

Christmas had always been about family for Bruce, about gathering around the tree and full table with the people who mattered most. It was lonely at first, after the death of his parents, but over the years, Alfred had made it work. The table was always full of tasty food the kids adored and presents Bruce knew would make them more than happy were neatly waiting for them every morning after Christmas Eve.

This year though, Bruce wanted it to be a little different. He wanted you to be part of it.

You might actually fit into the chaos of the Wayne family — the teasing and playful banters between you, Dick, and Tim would be absolute gold to hear. You probably even could handle Damian’s wit which was something his father would like to see. He could picture you smiling, holding back your own remarks. The idea of you sitting beside him at the long dining table, sharing their traditions, made his chest feel warm in a way he wasn’t used to.

That night, he sent you a message.

> Are you free on Christmas Eve?

Your response came in quickly, as it always did. Bruce’s heart thumped against the bones of his ribs.

> I am. Why?

He hesitated for a bit, overthinking his decision.

> I’d like you to join me for dinner. It’s a family thing but I’d really like for you to be there.

> Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude.

> You wouldn’t be intruding.

Bruce could picture the light frown between your brows and a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. You often did it unconsciously, never knowing how pretty you looked this way. But even as he pictured your face, a part of him was growing more nervous about the situation. Would you agree to an event this serious? Spend Christmas with him. And his family. Or were you coming up with excuses right now? He wouldn’t blame you.

> Then I’d love to come.

His heart skipped a beat and that night, Bruce went to bed feeling a little lighter than he usually did.

Snow blanketed the long driveway leading up to Wayne Manor and for once, Bruce wasn’t thinking about the pressure of Batman or the chaos the boys would definitely stir up tonight. His attention was entirely focused on the one making your way towards him. He stood just outside the grand entrance, dressed in a dark, perfectly tailored suit that fit him like a glove. The soft crunch of tires on the white powder alerted him to your arrival, and as your car pulled up, Bruce started to feel the nervousness. He adjusted his tie with a single hand.

When you stepped out, his breath caught.

You were breathtakingly beautiful. Dressed in an inky black that hugged your figure in all the right places, the fabric shimmered under the outdoor lights of the mansion. The smile you gave him when your eyes met melted all the nerves that had been harboring in his system. He was finally calm and composed, for what seemed like the first time in the evening.

“You’re early,” Bruce pointed out softly when you walked up the stairs to meet him in front of the door, and his eyes sparkled with little stars at the sight of you. How did he get so lucky? “You look stunning, by the way.”

“I didn’t want to keep you waiting. And thank you. You clean up well, too, Bruce.”

Your gaze held a playful edge in it as you accepted his hand, locking your palm around his bulging biceps and squeezing warmly. The touch added the missing piece of the puzzle Bruce was trying to solve while his cheeks warmed a rosy pink under your influence without any hesitation. The gesture felt natural, like it always belonged there.

The two of you approached the doors of the manor in a shared silence, although it didn’t feel a bit awkward. You took a moment to take in the place. It was like something out of your childhood dreams — tall, arched windows glowing with the soft light of a dozen garlands lining the entryway. The faint hum of holiday music and the occasional sound of laughter echoed through the manor.

It was Bruce’s home.

“Do you always go this big for Christmas?” you voiced a question that's been sitting on your mind since the moment you saw the large Christmas tree from the entryway to Bruce’s living room. Decorated with lots of ornaments, it looked lovely, accompanied by a heap of presents.

“Alfred insists,” admitting with a soft chuckle, Bruce rubbed the nape of his neck as he led you deeper into his home. “And the boys like the holidays. I want them to have the best.”

The scent of pine and cinnamon enveloped your senses the further you moved. The sounds grew louder, too. You awe made him feel lighter somehow. The dining room at Wayne Manor was nothing short of spectacular this night, with the long mahogany table adorned with a dozen of flickering candles and plates of food that looked like it belonged in a holiday spread for a cookbook.

You were sitting beside Bruce (he kind of insisted anyway), your hand occasionally brushing against his. He helped you settle into the chair which earned a teasing glance from Dick. Speaking of his oldest son, he was sitting across from you with an easy grin that told you some questions would come your way sooner or later. Tim was at Dick’s right, while Damian occupied the chair from the other side of his father.

The evening was more than successful in your opinion. Steph asked you about your favorite literature, while Tim quizzed you on trivia about Gotham (which you surprisingly got all right). Damian, after much persistence from Dick, shared a story about his latest art project, though he kept glancing at you as if trying to gauge your reaction.

Through it all, Bruce remained by your side.

When the night finally came to an end, and everyone drifted to their own space of the manor, Bruce walked you to the entrance with a gentle hand against the small of your back.

“Thank you,” his gaze met yours as he handed you your coat, effortlessly helping you slip your arms into the sleeves. “For coming tonight. For putting up with them.”

You gifted him with the most precious kind of a present; your smile, smaller hands reaching up to adjust the collar of his dark suit. “Of course. They’re wonderful, Bruce. I enjoyed myself tonight.”

For a man who othen found himself at loss for words when it came to talking in emotions, Bruce found himself smiling softly with his heart feeling lighter than it had in years. Because for the first time, Christmas didn’t feel like an obligation. It felt like a new beginning.

[charmandabear]

La Douleur Exquise

Pairing: Astarion/f!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 2.9k

Tags: mildly dubious consent, thigh riding, dry humping, vampire bites, blood drinking, fear play, degradation, modern au

Summary:

You never hook up with strangers you meet in clubs. And this one is a vampire? This may just be the worst night of your life. Or maybe the best. It's hard to say.

An adaptation of @ogyscrypt's erotic audio, "Wait... you like being drained?" The second I heard this I couldn't get Astarion out of my head. Chaboi's vampire kink is STRONG, y'all.

And thank you so much to @wicked-well for letting me use your gorgeous render for the header, it fits too fucking perfectly 🥵

You’re unsure if it’s the thumping bass of the music, or the rakish way he smiled at you from across the bar, or the buzz of alcohol flowing through your veins. Under any other circumstances, you’d be significantly more cautious. Yet here you are, stumbling out of a club with the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen attached to your lips. You paw desperately at his black button down, grabbing his collar to pull him into you. His scent is even more intoxicating than the whiskey sours you’ve been pounding all night – something sweet, herbal and citrusy. If you have any sense, you’ll ask him the name of it.

But that’s not what matters right now.

All that matters is the feel of his body as he presses you up against the brick wall in the alley beside the club. The orange glow from the streetlamps make his white curls almost look golden, the silver hoops in his pointed ears sparkling in the low light. The fingers of his left hand are hooked in your belt loop while the right is tangled in your hair, teasing at the possibility of pulling without giving into the temptation.

He breaks the kiss but keeps his lips close to yours as you both pant heavily, brains addled by lust and blood pounding in your ears. He chuckles, a low rumbling sound that makes your pussy tingle, and flashes that devastating smile.

“Don't get shy now, darling,” he purrs, lightly brushing his fingers over your exposed midriff and sending goosebumps down your arms. “Slide a hand into my shirt, slide a hand into my pants, be adventurous!” He returns his lips to yours, breathing through the kiss, “believe me, I do not mind.”

You take his advice, your fingers fumbling at his buttons and revealing his lean, sculpted chest. His shirt falls open and he rests his forearm on the brick behind you, the delicate silver chain around his neck swinging gently. He effectively has you trapped, and when he widens his smile just enough for two fangs to pop out, you press your lips together to catch the whimper before it escapes.

“V-vampire,” you croak, all sense of logic immediately flushed from your mind. You know that you should be terrified, that you should try to escape, but somehow learning this little fact about your nightclub stranger has only turned you on more.

“Very astute, love, well done,” he sneers, and the sarcasm in his voice makes your throat go dry. “Don't worry, I've known a few people who are into it.” He takes a finger and gently runs it down the side of your face. “I have a way of finding people who are attracted to my… oddities.”

Your tongue subconsciously darts out of your mouth to wet your lips and he lets out a long, contented sigh.

“I do believe you're a special case, however,” he continues breathily, sending a shiver through your core. “I believe that you and I,” he moves his knuckle under your chin and tilts your face up to meet his, “are going to get on like a house on fire. Now come here.”

He fiercely resumes the kiss, grabbing you tightly around the waist and pressing his palm to the skin of your lower back. You slide your fingers through his curls and pull him closer, desperate to feel every inch of him. You turn your head to the side as his lips travel down your jaw and onto your neck, pressing sloppy kisses along the way. This time you're more than happy to let your little noises of pleasure leave your lips, and you can feel him smiling against the sensitive skin below your ear.

“Oh, so you like neck kisses? Well, that’s a given, everyone likes neck kisses,” he giggles as he continues to tease you with featherlight licks and nips. “And I happen to be somewhat of an expert in the art of love bites.”

He captures your skin between his blunted front teeth and worries at the skin, shooting a stinging pain through you. His tongue laps at the tender flesh between his teeth, suckling at it without drawing blood. The overwhelm of sensations sends jolts of lightning through your core and stars dance across your field of vision. Just when the prolonged pain almost becomes too much to bear, he pulls off your neck with a wet pop and leans back to admire his work.

“Just beautiful,” he breathes, running a finger delicately over the purpling flesh. His eyes sharply meet yours as he says with a devious smile. “And don’t think I didn’t hear that moan.”

Your cheeks grow hot as your insatiable lust for this complete stranger – this vampire, a predator that you should absolutely be terrified of – gives you away. But there’s no turning back now. You lick your lips and let your gaze linger on his fangs for a moment before bringing it back up to those crimson eyes. “I like the feel of it,” you whisper, your voice cracking slightly.

“I’m glad,” he says airily before leaning in close to your ear. “Even if it does hurt, just a touch. But the best things do, don’t they?” He grazes his fangs along the thumping artery in your neck, your blood rushing to your head in a mix of arousal and fear. “Every last one of them.”

You can barely rasp out the “please” fast enough before he plunges his teeth into you, the feel of icy shards seizing up the left side of your body. You should be frightened by the pain, but instead it melts into a sublime numbness that sends a rush of adrenaline through your heart. La douleur exquise – exquisite pain. You never fully understood the phrase until this moment.

That’s to say nothing of the obscene noises the man is making. As he sucks long, greedy pulls of your blood, his grunts and groans vibrate through your skin. His breathing grows erratic in your ear, every sigh of pleasure sending a shiver down your spine. He clutches you tightly, one hand protecting the back of your head from scraping against the rough stone. The gesture would almost be tender if he weren’t currently ravaging your neck and sucking your life force right out of you.

And yet… every little twitch he makes, his body pushing against yours as your blood begins to course through his veins, sends your desire to staggering new heights. The perfect pale skin of his chest flushes slightly, and you can’t be sure but you think you might see the front of his pants straining slightly. Perhaps it’s just wishful thinking. Your breathing speeds up as you twist beneath him, trying to get just an inch closer.

“Hold still,” he snarls as he pushes you harder up into the wall. Your breasts heave as your breathing grows shallow, pushing your cleavage into his warming skin. His grunts fall deeper into his chest, growing desperate and borderline animalistic. You’re beginning to lose your faculties as your survival instinct puts all of its resources into just staying conscious, and a wanton moan slips through your lips against your will.

He slows suddenly, his heavy breathing tickling the open wound on your neck before pulling away. “What was that?” he asks in a low voice, your brain swimming as your head lolls to the side. He taps your cheek quickly to bring your attention back to him. “What was that? What noise did you just make?” You did not think your heart could pound harder with the amount of blood you’ve already lost, but somehow you can hear it ringing in your ears. He glares at you dangerously, clearly waiting for an answer.

“What?” Your voice is small, shame and embarrassment mingling with lightheadedness as you try to parse exactly what he’s feeling.

“You heard me,” he spits. “What noise did you just make, darling?” You’re terrified that you’ve made him angry somehow, until a devilish smile curls his perfect bloody lips upwards. “It was a moan. You enjoyed that, didn’t you?” He grins like a cat who’s caught the canary. “Other side, now,” he orders, and you obediently turn your head as his fangs pierce the unsullied flesh and send a renewed sense of arousal ricocheting around your body. A desperate keen works its way out of you, high and needy.

His hand twists in your hair and your hips buck into him, yearning for relief. He pulls you tighter into him, and now you’re positive that you can feel his cock through his tight leather pants. You whimper as he continues to gulp down swallows of your blood, your limbs tingling and your cunt throbbing for him. He laughs into your neck before detaching himself, gently lapping at the gaping holes still pouring blood. He sighs contentedly, licking his lips like he had just indulged in the sweetest cherry pie.

“Just look at yourself. Grabbed by the hair, neck craned aside, in a literal back alley being bitten by a vampire,” he jeers, his tone growing derisive. “And here you are, given away by your little shakes of excitement. Moaning, wantonly, like a whore putting on a performance.”

You pout at him, unsure if you feel more resentful that he sees fit to insult you, or that you kind of like it. He sees the gears turning in your brain and he giggles, a high pitched tinkling sound and a far cry off from the terrifying predator he really is.

“Oh, are you mad at me calling you names?” he coos condescendingly. His wicked grin only grows, showing off your red dripping down his pointed canines. He takes your chin in his hand, examining you, as though he’s appraising the quality of a cut of meat. “I could tell that you were a good one the moment I smelled those broken blood vessels under the skin. The moment I realized that you bled so prettily.”

You press your back into the brick wall behind you, your body giving you signals to run while your cunt clenches around nothing. He runs his thumb over your lips and your tongue darts out to savor him in any way that you can. He slips the digit into your mouth and you suck desperately, wanting to please. His hand cups your jaw and he pulls your face in close to his, the scent of iron hot on his breath.

“Give me another kiss,” he whispers, popping his thumb out of your mouth. “Taste your scarlet crimson on my lips.” He pulls you in for another searing kiss, the salty metallic sharpness coating your tongue and setting off your fear response.

You slide your hands into those white curls with a surprising amount of fervor given how lightheaded you feel. He slides his knee between your legs, lifting you off your toes slightly, the pressure of his thigh giving you much needed relief from the dull throbbing in your cunt. You groan into his lips and deepen the kiss, desperate for him to devour you whole, and he chuckles at your enthusiasm.

“Why do I get the sense that you’ve been dreaming about this?” he purrs, running a finger down your neck and swiping a droplet of your blood. He daubs the red onto your lips and you whimper, your tongue hanging out of your mouth like a lovesick puppy. “Why else would someone react so needily?” You whine and squirm on his thigh, conflicting instincts within you simultaneously trying to convince you to try to escape while craning your neck towards him. He chuckles and licks a stripe up the holes in your neck, pulling a ghastly shiver out of you. “Isn’t this just precious, you pathetic little thing.”

You gasp, once again surprised that the insult causes something in your stomach to flip over. He dives into your neck again and your hands clutch the collar of his button down, pulling him as close as you can physically get. He growls rhythmically in your ear with each swallow of your blood, and you can practically feel his cock sliding in and out of you so strong is your arousal. You claw at his back as you ride his thigh, his ragged breath caressing your hairline and tearing increasingly embarrassing noises from your throat. The pressure building deep within your core signals to you that it won’t be long now, and if he keeps this up you might simply collapse on the spot.

He pulls away panting and you make a strangled noise of frustration at the loss of his fangs. He drags the tip of his tongue up your jaw, transferring a thin line of his spit mixed with your blood onto your skin. He presses his lips to your ear with a low chuckle. “I’ve never seen such positive reinforcement for my illicit behavior. And look at you, practically grinding yourself on my fucking leg.” His voice is scathing but colored by an undeniable tone of amusement.

“Please,” you whine, your lips barely able to form the words. You grasp at him weakly, fighting against the blood loss to beg him to keep drinking so you can finally feel any sort of release.

“Oh, were you about to come? Look at me, slut. Are you actually going to come?” He grabs your chin and forces you to focus your bleary eyes on him. A wicked grin spreads across his face. “Holy shit, you are. You're on the fucking edge, aren't you?”

“Please,” you repeat, your voice raspy. “Please let me, I’m so close, I just need–” He cuts off your begging with a sharp tug of your hair.

“Oh don’t you worry, I will. And here’s what’s about to happen.” He runs his lips over your ear, and his voice has the feel of velvet pushed against the grain. Soft, but still somehow wrong. “I’m going to drain you dry while you rut on my leg like a bitch in heat. And when I let you come, I want you to moan for me in that pretty way you do.” He pulls back and hits you with a piercing red stare. “But I want you crying out my name. And if you do, and if you’re good, I promise, this won’t be a one-time thing.” His eyes are borderline hypnotic, and you find yourself nodding before you realize you’re missing important information.

“And what’s your name?” you ask shakily. His smile widens enough for his pink-tinged fangs to pop out. He brings his lips back to your ear and you shudder.

“Astarion.”

Before you can even process the sound of his name he’s sunk his fangs into your neck once again and you cry out with the pain and pleasure. You paw desperately at his collar as you grind your cunt onto his leg, rapidly building yourself back up to climax. The feel of his tongue lapping at your flesh, the vibration of his satisfied groans, and his heavy breathing in your ear swirl in a sinful mixture of lust and hedonism. Your roll your hips, your slick folds rubbing together and working your clit as the heat begins to spiral outwards. Your little whimpers grow into whines and eventually into full on moans until you finally feel yourself at the edge.

He can feel it, too, and he grunts between gulps, “Good. Good girl. Come for me.”

It’s all you need. “Fuck, Astarion!”

The moment his name leaves your lips he pulls his fangs and leg away, holding you up only by your hair as the waves of your orgasm wrack through your body, the sight of his feral bloody grin only prolonging it that much further. As the ripples of your climax slowly subside, he unceremoniously lets go of you and you slump down the brick wall and onto the dirty ground. He crouches down over you, taking your chin in his hand and forcing your gaze on him.

“Blink twice if you don’t think you’re dying, love,” he coos, his voice almost gentle. You manage a woozy nod, and then very deliberately squinch your eyes shut twice. He giggles and gives your cheek a few taps. He rifles through your pockets until he finds your phone, and picks up a limp arm and forces the phone into your hand. “Unlock code, pumpkin.” You force yourself to tap out the numbers before letting your head roll back to the side.

He pulls up your contacts and hits the plus button. “If you feel like you’re about to pass out, call emergency services. But,” his gaze flicks up to you as he pauses between typing numbers. “Once you feel like you can stumble onto your feet and get home, call this number, and leave a message with your address.” He drops your phone in your lap and gives you another kiss, sensual, his now warm lips moving softly against your cold ones. “And at some point, when I feel like it, I’ll come ‘round to you. And we’re going to do this again,” he kisses you and you can already feel a spike of arousal moving through you. “And again.” Another kiss. “And again.” His lips are wet from your blood, and you shiver as he pulls away, the cool night air sweeping against your frigid limbs. He breathes against your lips, a waft of iron infiltrating your nose. “I’ll see you soon, darling.”

He stands, and as he begins to walk away, you can barely hear him mutter quietly under his breath, “

.” You smile weakly, unable to bring yourself to care that you’re crumpled and satisfied in a back alley, knowing that you’re getting just as much out of this deal as he is.

[thenameswinterfics]

AGAPE

Fandom: The Last Kingdom Pairing: Osferth x Reader Settings: Between season 4 and season 5 Summary: Torn between the desire to feel you and the sacredness of his vows, Osferth gives you flowers as a token of his love and devotion, the meaning of his love hidden behind the flower's language. But a scouting expedition beyond Rumcofa's borders forces him to confront the devil who tempts him. Word Count: 2,9 K Warnings: Fluff, mild smut, mention of religious guilt, mention of male mansturbation A/N: Here's my birthday present for my beloved @zaldritzosrose . Happy birthday, sweet love. I apologise for taking so long, I hope you can appreciate this. (And consider also this as a way to thank you for all the graphics you made for me). As always, thank you to @foxyanon and @legitalicat for having an endless patience with me. Also, thanks to @sylasthegrim for the brief beta reading!

ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE. I APOLOGISE IN ADVANCE FOR MY GRAMMAR AND VOCABULARY MISTAKES.

Header by @legitalicat Dividers by @zaldritzosrose

READ IT ON AO3

Agape: (n), the highest form of love. Selfless, sacrifical, and unconditional love; persists no matter the circumstances.

When Osferth saw you for the first time, the seed of sin was already creeping into his soul.

Brought up in a monastery, King Alfred's bastard son had been sheltered from the dangers of the outside world, his life rigidly punctuated by the silent rhythm of prayer and the teaching of sacred texts, his vow of chastity protecting him from the lustful pleasures of the flesh, his body preserving the purity so longed for by God. 

But everything changed when he joined Uhtred and his men, leaving behind his former life outside the holy walls of the Church and embracing the way of the warrior. His first days were not easy: he was not used to witnessing death and destruction first hand, and killing was a thought that made his stomach turn and his spine chill. But the years passed quickly, and the shy monk became a warrior and one of Uhtred's most trusted men. 

He had always heard Finan say "ale, women and prayer" whenever they temporarily settled in a village, and watched as he and Sihtric drank endless mugs of ale, joining them for as long as his stomach would allow. And every time the thought of the flesh came back to haunt him, his faith would help him resist the temptation, and Osferth would end up praying for God's forgiveness, soothing his guilt for almost abandoning himself in the sin.

But your arrival shattered all his holy defences. 

He watched with wide eyes as you challenged Uhtred to a fight, your body dancing with every stroke of your sword, admiring your coolness and agility in battle and how easily you disarmed a skilled fighter like the Daneslayer. And those same eyes, intense and fierce in battle, were the ones that met him, in a glance that ignited the spark of attraction, an unfamiliar heat that blossomed in his chest. 

Every time he closed his eyes, his thoughts were filled with visions of you - your wild spirit, your stolen glances, the way you cared for your friends and children even when you said otherwise, even the way your lips curled into a gentle smile. In the silence of his room, he struggled with his longing, every breath a battle between desire and duty. Part of him still had to keep his oath to God, the promise to maintain his integrity and serve Him and Him alone for the rest of his life. But another part of him wanted to surrender and embrace the sin that had taken root in his heart, to love you as freely as you did, whose own religion allowed you to worship the gods with physical touches and passionate love. 

Osferth always wanted to confess his love for you, but his shyness and his religious morality never allowed him to openly express his true feelings.

So he used the language of flowers to convey his unspoken feelings for you.

Osferth had always been an enduring mystery. You sensed it from the moment you met him, his blue eyes hiding a longing that you misinterpreted at first, thinking he was simply worried about his lord's fate since he was defeated in front of the bewildered gazes of his warriors. 

But it was not until Uhtred welcomed you into his group with open arms that you truly began to understand him. As you shared stories of your adventures around the fire, surrounded by the green of the boundless Mercian borders, you glimpsed a layer of his character that was hidden beneath his demeanour: he was a gentle soul, both in his words and his actions, and spoke with an intensity in his words that you hadn't found in any men you'd met in your life.

Your silent glances turned into lingering moments, and you both felt a connection to each other that you had never felt before. You brushed your fingers against each other as you reached for the same piece of food, or as you passed weapons to each other as you prepared for battle, and each time you saw the monk's smile as a silent response, his face flushed to the tips of his ears, a vision that made your heart pound in your chest.

In time, the accidental caresses became bold, and you both began to rest your hands on each other's cheeks, feeling the softness of each other's skin as the tips of your noses touched. But every time you thought you could go further, a wall of responsibility would fall over Osferth and the monk would leave your embrace. You interpreted his sudden hesitation as mere disinterest in you, but you didn't know that inside him there was a war between integrity and impulsiveness, for you were the devil who broke the chains of God's influence. 

You had known Osferth for long enough that you thought you knew everything about him. Yet, somehow, the once almost monk still managed to surprise you. One evening, while you guarded the children as you were granted accommodations by Lady Aethelflaed estate in Saltwic, he began exhibiting a predisposition towards plants and flowers. You watched as he bent over, his slender fingers gently caressing the petals of a flower before plucking it from the bush and turning to gift it to you, which you accepted happily.

Each flower was different, both in shape and colour: small and with few petals, roses of the brightest red, small wild flowers that he sometimes tucked behind your ear, large and fragrant tulips: they were carefully chosen each time you crossed Mercia, and your intimate ritual continued when you reached Rumcofa, the place you would soon call home. 

You leaned into his spontaneous gestures, consoling yourself a little, seeing them as the closest you could get to a gesture of love. But you would soon find out the hidden secrets that these flowers hide between their beautiful petals.

Spring arrived unusually early in Rumcofa, and while nature was already in full bloom - from the brightest greens of the grass to the most vibrant hues of the flowers - there was still a slight chill in the air, a silent reminder that winter had not yet loosened its grip on the earth. 

The sun was bright in the sky, and Uhtred and the boys patrolled the area, making sure there were no dangers or possible incursions. It was a sudden change of life for everyone, as you had lived in Coccham for many years, but this did not stop Uhtred from making his new piece of land powerful and safe for his warriors’ families.

Fortunately, the scouting had been without any particular difficulty, and after hours of riding, Uhtred decided it would be wise to let his men rest and feed the horses before resuming their activities. So they decided to head for the forest, which was somewhat drier than the dense vegetation that surrounded Coccham, but no less intriguing: the trees were tall and stringy, and the early scent of pine and damp earth filled the air. Birds were calling in the distance, their songs echoing through the treetops, casting small patterns of light on the ground.

Dismounting from your horse, you took your shield and sword from the saddle, carrying them with you in case you needed to defend yourself from an ambush. Deep in the forest, you and Osferth gathered as many twigs as you could find to light a small fire and prepare some food for your stomachs: the scouting had been long and hard, and hunger mixed with fatigue always fooled even the most skilled of warriors.

Having gathered all the twigs you needed, you decided it was time to take a little break. The two of you walked in silence, close to each other, shame and unspoken feelings filling a forest already blooming for the spring season, until you both reached a small stream where you could sit and relax, smelling the scent of wet grass and water plants, along with the chirping of cicadas and the singing of birds. 

You cautiously approached the water, dipped a hand in and lightly wetted your face, enjoying the coolness of the cold hair against your wet skin. Then you sat down, pressing your back against the grass and closing your eyes, surrendering to the peaceful sounds of nature, until a sudden rustling of leaves made you open your eyes. You lifted your head to see Osferth awkwardly gathering some flowers tangled in a bush, the sight so sweet it made you smile slightly.

"It seems you like picking flowers lately," you said with a slight chuckle, watching as the monk froze, the tips of his ears turning slightly red. You could feel one of his hands lightly picking up a small flower, the flicker transferred to its petals. 

“It is an activity I enjoy, my lady, before we come back scouting,” Osferth replied politely to you, and you could hear a flicker of nervousness in his voice. 

You rolled to the other side, your arm supporting your head as you watched Osferth pluck flowers from the ground and gently gather them into a small bouquet. With no small hesitation, he approached you, sat down on the ground and silently leaned the bouquet towards you, his blue eyes looking at you with their usual intensity and longing, betraying the decorum of his religious beliefs. 

You found yourself admiring the improvised floral composition, lost in its beauty: the flowers were large, probably larger than those he had given you in the past, the petals soft as silk to the touch, painted a vibrant pink with muted shades of pale pink. You had never seen such a beautiful flower in your life. 

“Osferth,” you breathlessly broke the silence, your eyes shining with contentment: you were a warrior woman, but even you had a soft side, “I do not know what to say. They are-”

“Peonies,” the monk interrupted you, his cheeks turning red while watching your bewilderment over his gift, “They are peonies. Very beautiful flowers, if I dare to say,”. 

Osferth paused for a moment, then cleared his throat and continued, "From the writings of the monastery, I have learned that peonies are rich in symbolism and have many meanings. One of his fingers pointed to the flowers in your hands, his thumbs gently stroking the petals, "Some believe it has healing properties and symbolises protection, others believe it is the symbol of honour and nobility,” 

Suddenly, he took one of your hands, and with incredible kindness he placed it on his chest, and you felt his heart beating wildly inside his chest, “And they are often given when you want to tell someone you love them,” 

Silence fell over you as you took your time to absorb Osferth's words, his words hitting you like an arrow shot to the chest: you were used to Osferth's elusiveness on these subjects, as you had caught him praying in solitude, asking forgiveness for sins he had not committed. But his gentle touches, his unspoken tender gestures and the flowers he gave you: he told you he loved you without thinking to touch you, so that his soul could live in peace. 

Your lips curled into a small smile as you brushed Osferth’s chest with your fingers, “Is this why you always give me flowers, when we get the chance?”, you asked softly, your own cheeks turning red as Osferth nodded shyly.

“I do,” the monk replied, his hand squeezing yours, “But I know this is wrong,” 

With a quick but delicate gesture, Osferth lowered your hand and stood up, pacing nervously and mentally reciting prayers of forgiveness. His behaviour left you both confused and broken, and after gently placing the flowers on the grass, you stood up and approached him, holding his hands in a way to calm himself down.

"It's wrong, what?" you asked calmly, hoping that your voice would bring him back to reality. But you knew from his gaze that he was somewhere else than with you, "Please, Osferth. Talk to me. Is it because I am a Dane?"

“It is because I desire you,” Osferth snapped, more in panic than anger, and the grip on your hands tightened, “It torments me to see you every day and wonder what it would be like to touch you and love you without feeling the burden of my faith,”

He then leaned one of his trembling hands, resting it on your cheek and brushing it gently, “All the flowers I gave to you, they were the sign of my love and commitment towards you without feeling God’s voice telling me it was wrong,” Osferth confessed with a soft sigh, closing his eyes as a way to hide his shame, “But now that I exposed my secret I do not know if he will grant me-”

“Is God watching us?” You asked out of the blue, interrupting his nervous stream of consciousness while your own hand rested on his cheek as well. Your question left Osferth surprised for a second, but a little chuckle escaped from his lips, amused by your apparent innocent question.

“My sweet lady, both your Gods and my God are watching us right now,” he replied sheepishly, and his answer satisfied you: it was what you wanted to hear.

“Then let them watch us,” you whispered with husky voice, your finger tracing the contour of his face, your touch sending him shivers down your spine, “Let them watch us consuming our love, only them as witnesses,” 

His breath caught as your soft touch lingered on his skin and the air suddenly became thick with tension. It was as if the war between righteousness and temptation was intensifying within him, the seed of sin blossoming into a small sprout destined to grow, fuelled by your carnal passion. 

And for the very first time, the devil won. 

His lips crashed against yours in a hungry kiss, releasing all the dormant passion he used to vent in the solitude of his room, reaching his climax when he cried out your name in his moments of lack of lucidity. Unable to restrain his hands, he gripped your waist in a surprisingly tight vice and moved you until your back was pressed against the trunk. He broke the kiss abruptly as guilt rose again in his chest, his eyes pleading for forgiveness.

“You need to stop me, please,” Osferth breathed against your lips, but you silenced him by teasing his upper lip with your tongue. 

“I won’t,”, you replied in a hoarse voice and put your hand behind his neck, “I have waited for so long, Osferth. I need to feel you,” 

With your last words, everything rational in Osferth's mind disappeared and your lips were locked in a heated kiss. A little hesitant at first, he grew bolder as the tip of his tongue tentatively demanded entry, which you gladly accepted. A wild and sensual dance exploded in your mouths as his hands slid all over your body, squeezing your soft breasts and forcing you to moan against his lips. With a confident movement, he undid the laces of your skirt, exposing you to the cold air of early spring. Your mind became dizzy as you felt Osferth's mouth run over your skin, tormenting first your neck, then your collarbone, until he indulged on your breast: with the tip of his tongue he teased your nipple, hardened by the cold and the rise of your arousal, while his hand teased the other with a pleasurable pinch. 

"You are tempting me, Lady," his shy and trembling voice contrasted with the bold movements of his hands, and you could only respond with whimpering and rambling words, your eyes closed as you rested your head on the trunk of the tree, drunk with the pleasure the innocent monk was giving you.

Leaving your chest, his hands slipped into your breeches, his fingers trembling and clumsy as he tried to find your pulsing core, wet with anticipation of what was to come. But as you felt the tip of his thumb caress you in a circular motion, two male voices called out to you in the distance, forcing you both to abruptly pull away from each other, hiding all evidence of your relationship. 

But all your attempts were in vain, as you realised with horror that Finan and Sihtric saw almost everything. 

"Looks like our baby monk is no longer a baby," Finan's teasing voice broke the awkward silence, supported by Sihtric's sly grin. Osferth's face turned bright red as he tried to cover you and save you from further humiliation. But he knew it was too late. 

“I-I swear I can explain,” the monk spoke with a quivering voice, but Sihtric was quick to interrupt him.

“Lord Uhtred gave the order to resume the scouting. Collect your things, both of you,” the Dane tried to stay as neutral as possible, his smirk betraying the seriousness of his words. 

“You will hump your lady later as a reward,” the Irishman added, and with a loud slap on the youngest's back, he and Sihtric turned and walked away from you. 

With a hint of embarrassment in the air, you tried to compose yourself by arranging your clothes and combing your hair into more tidy braids, and with a soft brush you told Osferth that everything was fine and that you were enjoying these little moments together. 

Gathering your things, you quickly rejoined your group and resumed your exploration of Rumcofa's surroundings, riding tirelessly until the orange sun disappeared behind the mountains. And as Finan said, your love and affection was the reward Osferth received after a long day, ignoring the guilt of his faith that whispered in his head as your naked bodies joined as one. 

If you've come this far, thank you so much for reading my fic! Hope you enjoyed it! Please, leave a comment if you want to be added in the taglist or be removed.

Osferth Taglist: @zaldritzosrose @legitalicat @sylasthegrim

[saiyanprincessswanie]

SaiyanPrincessSwanie Reading List Weeks 187 & 188

Welcome to weeks 187 & 188

A/N: Another slow reading week due to me getting back into writing. I’m trying to finish up a Bucky series so thank you for understanding.

Thank you again to those who gave me recommendations for fanfics. 💜 This week had me reading 25 fics. Absolutely amazing stuff here.

As always these will be listed in no particular order. None of these stories are mine. I’m just signal-boosting them. The author is listed next to the title. My goal is to signal boost writers and spread positivity in the community.  💜💜

Click HERE to see what I will or won’t read. This is very important.

Click HERE for past reading lists.

For my Masterlist click HERE

Please make sure you’re reading the warnings on every story. They range from dark to fluff. Do Not Read if you are under 18 years old. These stories are meant for adults only. You’re responsible for your own media consumption.

Page-break by @whimsicalrogers

Header by @fictional-affairs

If you can, please reblog these lists so they can reach more people on Tumblr.

I love you 3000 💜 Missy

Unexpectedly in Love - (Bucky x Reader) - @saiyanprincessswanie

Love or Curse - (Steve x Reader) - @nekoannie-chan

Out - (Johnny S x Reader) - @nekoannie-chan

Changing Plans - (Brock x Reader) - @nekoannie-chan 

Call - @nekoannie-chan

Temptation - (Andy x Reader x Ari) - @stargazingfangirl18

This Spells Love - (Bucky x Reader) - @jobean12-blog

Built Differently - 𝐈𝐦𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭𝐮 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐩 - (Bucky x Reader x Steve) - @rookthorne

Collared part 33 - @spnexploration

Collared part 34 - @spnexploration

Finding Home (1) - (Bucky x Reader) - @jobean12-blog

Life Is Short So Make It Sweet - Chp 3 - (Curtis x Honey) - @sweater-daddiesdumbdork

Reconnect - Where we left off - (Bucky x Reader) - @navybrat817

Switched Sides part 3 - (Lloyd x Reader) - @deliciousangelfestival

Open Up - (Bucky x Reader) - @navybrat817

Valentine Canine - (Ransom x Reader) - @eulalielatibule

Jacks and Sunshine - (Bucky x Reader) - @rookthorne

Eternal love - (Brock x Reader) - @nekoannie-chan

Sweet names - (Steve x Reader) - @nekoannie-chan

Beautiful View From The Backseat - (Thor x Stark!freader) - @cockslutpadalecki

Lloyd's Valentine - @thezombieprostitute

The Best Treatment - (Bucky x Reader) - @rookthorne

No More Hiding - (Bucky x Reader) - @srgntjamesbuckybarnes

Relish - (Ransom x Reader) - @stargazingfangirl18

Your Mark On Me - Part 5 - (Bucky x shy) - @georgiapeach30513

[onboardsorasora]

Just a quick one, a little cuteness and fluff

Part 1 | Part 27 | Part 29

Part 28

Daniel sat in the back of the garage, out of the way of all the cameras, mechanics and engineers. Max was getting ready to start free practice and the team didn’t need any distractions. Daniel looked down at his bare thigh, his shorts rode up as he sat, and grinned to himself. Max had already told him that he was a distraction on a good day, apparently today he was a temptation. 

Daniel had already sucked him off in his driver’s room, and it seemed Max had been ready to go again almost immediately. Brad knocked on the door before things could escalate though and Max had poutily changed and left. Not after running his thumb against Daniel’s mustache. 

Max liked it more than Daniel thought he would. He had been prepared for some laughter and being told to shave it off (that's what happened with the last person he was dating). But no, Max had gone feral instead. It was sweet– sexy as fuck– but sweet.

It made him think of their last night in Texas. It had been a quick turnaround because of the nature of a triple header, but Max had gotten their flight pushed back to Monday morning. He’d taken Daniel to this small almost hole in the wall bar where no one recognized them. They had a blast eating more bbq and Daniel had the most delicious fried chicken sandwich.

Then they’d slow danced to a random country song that was playing on the ancient jukebox in the corner. 

Not exactly how Daniel figured Max would want to celebrate 50 wins, but he can’t say he was complaining. It had been, to use one of his boyfriend’s favourite words, lovely.

The car left the garage to cheers from the crowd, Daniel could make out the chants of ‘Checo! Checo!’ as both cars went through turn one. The screaming grew in intensity though, which didn’t make sense to him until he looked over and saw his face on the nearby screen.

Daniel Ricciardo #1 World Ranked Tennis Player/Max Verstappen’s boyfriend

He grinned at the camera and gave a thumbs up and it was as if every grandstand lit up with cheers for him. It was surreal and weird. And he was thankful when the coverage went back to the cars that were circling the track.

Now that their relationship was out there and known, it was as if a switch flicked. Daniel saw their names and photos everywhere; in the sports headlines, in the news news. Blake told him about the barrage of interview and collab requests since the kiss in Qatar. Also his sponsors had all sent in requests to renegotiate his contracts; Nick his agent said the changes mostly seemed to be to lock him in for longer and to offer more bonuses. Since he was now a global star and not just a tennis pro, the money was different apparently. Plus no one wanted a competitor to offer him anything better.

It made his head spin, he’d had fans before but now he had Formula 1 fans. Which was insane. 

He was chatting to Blake, gesticulating about something or another, when Max was wheeled back into the garage. He hopped out of the car and walked over to GP. Max nodded distractedly a few times at what GP was explaining, before patting him on the shoulder and walking over to the back of the garage where Daniel and Blake sat.

Max leaned sideways onto the short railing and Daniel immediately turned to him like a sunflower to the sun. He grinned happily at his boyfriend, enjoying his tousled hair and the lines pressed into his face from his balaclava.

“Hi Daniel, hey Blake” Max greeted with a quick scrunchy smile.

“Hey Maxy.” Daniel felt his shoulders peak upwards with his blush, unable to hide just how in love he was with this man. He could feel Blake’s eye roll behind him.

The cheers exploded around the track again and Daniel didn’t need to look to know a camera was pointed on them. He didn’t want to look anyway, he had the best view in the house and couldn’t take his eyes away.

[ltofoceania]

very kind of you to tag me @helleluj <3 thank you

nine albums or songs I've been listening to lately x nine people I’d like to get to know better x tag game with no name

1. why did you choose your url? back in high school i'd read Orwell's 1984 and had also found the 1954 Peter Cushing version of it, and was obsessed. and in that text USA is part of Oceania and LT is a nickname as well as my initials so I am LT of Oceania (in the Orwellian context)

2. any sideblogs? if you have them name them and why you have them. none. this is my only blog.

3. how long have you been on tumblr? since at least 2013???

4. do you have a queue tag? i do not

5. why did you start your blog in the first place? my best friend had one and would send me things, and so rather than lurk on the outside i created mine and have been here ever since

6. why did you choose your icon/pfp? it me

7. why did you choose your header? sherlock holmes is a bit of a cornerstone of who i am and my jv soccer coach took a picture of the baker street station when she went to england one summer because she knew i loved acd's works

8. what’s your post with the most notes? i don't really post anything original, but i am pretty sure it is a dirk gently's holistic detective agency (2016 - 2017) related post

9. how many mutuals do you have? not sure, sorry

10. how many followers do you have? 162

11. how many people do you follow? 362. oh that's funny that it's only 200 more than my follower count

12. have you ever made a shitpost? i have not

13. how often do you use tumblr each day? not as often as i have i think

14. did you have a fight/argument with another blog once? nope

15. how do you feel about ‘you need to reblog this’ posts nuance....

16. do you like tag games? they're alright i suppose (depends on the subject) but i also never know who to tag

17. do you like ask games? eh

18. which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous? humanjeff

19. do you have a crush on a mutual? don't think so

20. what is the last song you listened to? hell above -- pierce the veil

21. what are you currently watching? nothing at the moment, but trying to find something.

22. sweet/ savoury/ spicy? savoury

23. what is your current relationship status? single

24. what is your current obsession? my dissertation?? but i had a resurgence of ted lasso recently, and i think danny kaye is making a comeback right now. we'll see what happens

25. what are nine albums/ songs you've been listening to lately?

according to my phone so like the last 9 songs played... hell above -- pierce the veil hot dog -- limp bizkit separate ways (worlds apart) -- journey & steve perry oh, pretty woman -- roy orbison fallin (temptation) -- grandson maneater -- nelly furtado go down deh -- spice red right hand -- nick cave & the bad seeds start the commotion -- the wiseguys

26. tagging @tinavy35 @metronomeblue (no obligation to do this!)

and anybody who wants to!

nine albums or songs I've been listening to lately x nine people I’d like to get to know better x tag game with no name

(thank you for the tag @lianhuajing !!)

1. why did you choose your url? uh. it was a play on "rose tinted glasses"

2. any sideblogs? if you have them name them and why you have them. nope!

3. how long have you been on tumblr? I think 2022? i knew about it before, just never bothered to make a blog

4. do you have a queue tag? don't kill me, what's a queue tag?

5. why did you start your blog in the first place? I had some Thoughts about Blue Lock and wanted to post meta for it

6. why did you choose your icon/pfp? uhh Flora.

7. why did you choose your header? Reo is one of my Blorbos and I just really liked that panel of him

8. what’s your post with the most notes? probably the "do you download fics" poll

9. how many mutuals do you have? about 20? i don't remember

10. how many followers do you have? 120?

11. how many people do you follow? 91

12. have you ever made a shitpost? yes. i think.

13. how often do you use tumblr each day? an hour?

14. did you have a fight/argument with another blog once? nope

15. how do you feel about ‘you need to reblog this’ posts meh. some of them are funny i guess

16. do you like tag games? yep! it's nice interaction

17. do you like ask games? i do! but uh. it's a silent empty void here. an echo chamber, if you will.

18. which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous? i have no idea but i see @kingsandbastardz a lot in the mlc community

19. do you have a crush on a mutual? nope

20. what is the last song you listened to? 若梦 by 周深

21. what are you currently watching? i just finished The Double! probably starting on Dashing Youth next

22. sweet/ savoury/ spicy? savoury!

23. what is your current relationship status? single

24. what is your current obsession? The Double,,,,

25. what are nine albums/ songs you've been listening to lately?

若梦 by 周深

如故 by 张碧晨

如初 by 张碧晨

借过一下 by 周深

万物不如你 by 张杰

Our dawn is hotter than day by Seventeen

Hitorijana by Seventeen

my music taste is kinda...i tend to stick to a few artists...

26. tagging (no obligation to do this!) @randomingoftherandomness @good-vs-evo @chrysofightme @bbcphile

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