#it must be because the old one looked so much like the actor

[lulu2992]

Greg Bryk was in episode 25 of Podcast141, co-hosted by Marwen Heni, Mars Lipowski, and Jim Boeven, to talk about his acting career in general, but also and mostly his role as Joseph Seed in Far Cry 5.

Since he’s already shared a lot of anecdotes in interviews and live videos on Instagram, I thought I wouldn’t learn anything new... but I did, so here’s a summary of what he said about his experience playing the Father.

We knew that the dev team (he specifically mentioned Dan Hay and Drew Holmes) had struggled to find the “right” actor for the role, but what I don’t remember ever hearing before is that, after two years of unsuccessful search, the project was almost cancelled for this reason!

Thankfully, that was when Greg Bryk auditioned. He had already said the script they gave him (and that he thought was “amazing”) was what became Joseph’s monologue in the mission “We Must Be Strong”, but he gave more details about what was originally in it. In this early version of his backstory, Joseph was 23 years old and working two jobs to support his family. One night, exhausted, he fell asleep on the couch as his pregnant wife went out to get ice cream. He was then awoken by a knock on the door, told she had been in an accident, and taken to the hospital. The rest of the story is what he says in Far Cry 5: when he arrives, his wife is dead, their premature daughter is “stuffed with tubes”, he hears God’s calling, and understands he has to make this sacrifice.

So he got the role, and when they called him again to record a sermon (my guess is it was this one, but I’m just speculating), he saw what the game looked like and thought everything and everyone was “incredible”. Over time, as they got to know him, they even changed the character and partly rewrote the Father specifically for him.

The team was also very accommodating. For example, the scenes are usually shot in the huge performance capture studio, but for the Heralds’ eulogies, which are much more intimate, they built a small room so he felt like he actually had something around him instead of a big, empty space.

A day before the game came out, the cutscenes were already available online and he watched some of them. He was very impressed by the last eulogy (or, as he calls it, “snot monologue”) in particular because of how “vivid” and “human” it felt. It brought tears to his eyes and he recalls his wife was “blown away”; it was “special”.

As for the fans, he thinks they’ve been very supportive and welcoming. Some have told him they felt heard and seen by Joseph, and he believes it’s because he’s a character who loves people for who they are. At this point, he and the co-hosts agreed that being an actor was a gift because it gives an opportunity to make people’s lives better, especially in video games because there’s a unique connection that doesn’t really exist in movies or TV series.

Marwen Heni mentioned that, while most villains want you to hate them, Joseph, on the contrary, wanted you to reflect and think that he might be right. Greg Bryk admitted that he believed everything he said, especially about family and technology. Sometimes, people are isolated or only have online connections, so having someone tell them, “I see you and I love you for what you are” is powerful. In his opinion, this message resonated with a lot of players because it’s a simple truth and we all want to be part of a family.

Joseph doesn’t control his followers with fear, Marwen Heni commented, but with devotion, and that too makes him compelling. As he was playing Far Cry 5, he started questioning whether or not he (as the Deputy) was right for opposing the Father, which is something Greg Bryk says he saw a lot in comments. He believes there’s “an intimacy to the relationship” between Joseph and the player, a “seduction” in the sense that we all want to belong. He’s humbled by the impact his work had on people.

When asked if he would be open to reprising the role, this time, he answered, “Absolutely”. In fact, and this is news to me, he revealed there were discussions about turning Far Cry into a TV show, and the different games would have been standalone seasons. That said, he added that, at a certain point, it’s necessary to let characters go and that he was grateful for what he had already experienced playing the Father.

Marwen Heni then asked if Joseph, who is very complex, was entirely fictional or if it was Greg talking through him. He answered his characters are always him, to a degree, because he wants to connect with the material so he never lies and can work from things that matter to him. He never judges them and tries to think about what he wants to express through them. He’s interested in their humanity and what motivates them. “We’re all broken,” he said. “Some are much more broken than others, and sometimes those broken pieces are very sharp and jagged, and they lash out.”

He also revealed he had “very specific rituals” to help him become a character and then let them go. He mentioned a few prayers that one of his friends, who is a Wiccan, taught him. In fact, and all the co-hosts agreed, it can be very hard to “disconnect” from a character sometimes because actors aren’t just pretending; they’re using real emotions.

He had already said his son Dempsey had done the mocap for John and Jacob in the Collapse DLC and that he felt carrying Ethan’s body in New Dawn was a way for him to honor his “boy”, his dead dog Lucky, since he deeply regretted that he couldn’t be there to take him to the veterinarian the day he passed. What I didn’t know, however, is that it was Greg himself who had asked if Joseph could carry Ethan, and the team made it happen. He also explained that, when it was time to play this scene, he tried to imagine what it would be like to actually lose his son.

But who is Greg Bryk’s favorite Far Cry villain? Well, when he auditioned and started researching the franchise, he was interested in Vaas because of Michael Mando’s performance. He still doesn’t know him personally but has a friend who worked with him and who spoke about “how electrifying his talent was”. There’s something “unhinged” and “primal” to him as a performer; he’s a “wild” and “special” actor.

Finally, when told he was born to play Joseph, he confessed he felt he was indeed “called” to play this part but wants to give credit to Dan Hay, Drew Holmes, and Jean-Sébastien Décant for creating such a “terrifyingly human” antagonist in the first place.

[romance-club-daily]

They've revamped Adam????

[slasher-male-wife]

Telling slashers you like 'hot old men'

I am an old man lover and enjoyer for life. I love hot old men I hope I become one when I'm older. So what better way then to make a post appreciating all of the hot old men I'm in love with. I know some of these men aren't like super old but it's still kind of old ok? We're talking an age range from 30's-50's. Also this was buried in my drafts since like April.

Includes: Doomhead, The Grabber, Mark Hoffman, Peter Strahm, Hannibal Lecter, and Bo Sinclair

Warnings: Implied kidnapping in The Grabbers section

Doomhead

He honestly thought you said something else when you first said it. You two were watching a movie together and you made a comment on how you love "hot old men".

When he asks you to repeat yourself and you confirm that you said you love hot old men he laughs. He knows he's an older man but you saying that is really funny to him.

"Are you calling me an old man, sugar?" He asks you, pressing a kiss to your cheek. After you clarify you don't mean it in a negative way he just keeps laughing quietly.

He'll bring this up from time to time when he sees fit. He honestly might play up the 'old man' act just to tease you about it even more. But he's not too offended that you said it.

The Grabber

Because you've been behaving well he decided to treat you by giving you a magazine. He sat with you in the basement while you looked through the magazine.

He noticed you lingering on a page for a bit longer than the others. He asks you about why you're still on that page. You chuckle and tell him it's because there's an actor you love on it. "I just love old men." You say casually.

He pauses for a moment before he chuckles himself. He's an older man himself and because of your recent behavior. "Is that why you've been behaving so well for me?" He asks with a smile behind his mask.

Your chuckle and smile in response is all he needs to know. He's going to start subtly showing his age to you more and more. I think he'll try to show off his hands and arms. He's going to be so cocky about this and you'll never hear the end of it.

Mark Hoffman

You and Hoffman are coworkers and you've been dropping hints to him about your attraction to him. Today you were working with Hoffman, looking over some tapes when the discussion of how long you've been in the force came up.

When Hoffman mentioned when he graduated from the police academy and made a comment about how he's old you smiled and said, "Good thing I love old men."

He laughed it off at first then got a little defensive about how he's "not that old". You explained to him that you never meant it to be rude, you just meant to say that you find older men attractive.

He just nodded his head and went back to watching the tape over. But over the next few days he kept thinking about what you said. It's the most outwardly flirty you've been with him before. When he next sees you he asks you out and you accept.

Peter Strahm

You're on a date with him after being introduced to each other by a mutual friend. He took you somewhere nice and he's driving you home. You both feel a strong connection.

He mentions how long he's been working in the FBI and makes a comment about how you must think he's so old. But when you chuckle and tell him "Don't worry, I love old men." He chuckles too.

Peter isn't too much older than you but he still finds your comment funny. He asks you why and when you talk about how older men are more mature, provide stability, and they're just hot, he smiles and puts a hand on your thigh.

He thinks about your comment for awhile after the date. The comment and how well the date went leads him to asking you out again, which you of course say yes to.

Hannibal Lecter

You met Hannibal at an opera and he found you very attractive. He invited you over for dinner later in the week and you accepted. He made sure to make an impressive meal for you, which isn't hard for him to do.

You two start talking over dinner and Hannibal talks about his career as a surgeon then as a psychiatrist. He makes a comment about how you must think he's very old and you reply with, "I don't mind at all. I love old men."

He chuckles and says he's not that old. You tell him you know that but you start talking about how you love a man who looks more mature and has his life well put together.

The dinner goes well and he invites you over again later in the month. But he can't stop thinking about your comment. He knows he's an older man but he doesn't think he's that old. But the comment doesn't get to him too much because you like him anyway.

Bo Sinclair

You're sitting with Bo in his garage while he's working on a car. You're reading an old magazine when you start to giggle. He asks you what's so funny and you talk about how hot this model is.

When you show him the model Bo talks about how he looks pretty old to which you reply with "I love old men." Bo sets down his tool and looks at you.

"Are you saying I'm old, darlin'?" He asks you. You think for a moment before you tell him no. Bo is in his early 30's and you don't really consider that old.

You have to explain to him that by "old men" you mean men in their 40's and above. Bo will tease you about this constantly. Any time you two see an older man, either it being in a movie or a victim he asks you if he's your type.

[katiemccabeswife]

Fan Girl

AWFC x Ballerina!Reader || Reader is a renowned ballerina and goes live to talk to fans, especially about her new-found love for football. Part 2

"Hello, everyone!" You smiled into the camera a few minutes after starting an Instagram live, "Hello, hello, hello. How is everyone doing!" You responded to some personalised greetings for a few minutes before answering recurring questions flowing through the comments.

"What am I doing? I am getting ready to head over to the Royal Opera House to perform The Nutcracker. I am very excited to be doing so, we are going into the 4th performance of this year and I am absolutely buzzing, the first 3 shows went so well and I got to do all of my favourite parts and I get to do another tonight. So yeah, I am buzzing!" You had to try to suppress your smile whilst talking about your passion as you were doing your makeup whilst doing so.

"What are my favourite roles to dance in The Nutcracker?" You were moving onto contour as you began to roll off an endless number of characters you've played in the past, "I think my all-time favourite would have to be the Sugar Plum Princess, which I'm actually doing tonight!" You clapped your hands in delight due to pure excitement running throughout your body

"And then I think it's sort of even between; Clara, The Arabian Princess and The Snow Queen. I love Clara because I love playing her, I feel like I'm more of an actor when I play Clara and I love the feeling and of course, it's like, kind of a main role," You laughed as you tried to down-play the roll, not wanting to make it seem like you were bragging about getting to perform a main role.

"I love playing The Arabian Princess and The Snow Queen for the same reasons, I love their costumes so much and the choreography as well, oh my god, I feel in my element when I get to dance their choreography. It's an indescribable feeling, performing in general is for me, indescribable, but specifically those parts because I just love them so much!"

You laughed slightly to yourself as you took a drink of water, "And then we have the rats! I loved playing a rat, their costumes are just so funny and you get to really improvise with the rats," You choked on your water slightly as you laughed, "Oh I love being side-stage to watch them, performing with them is sometimes hard, especially when I'm Clara because you have to try not to laugh but I love the rats so much. And then there's also the angels! I love the angels, I was one for maybe 3 years? I started doing the Nutcracker when I was 3 and I started getting into other roles when I must have been 6 or 7, so 3 or 4 years, yeah, and I love the angels not only because it was my introductory to performing and ballet but also because now, I love kids if you didn't know, but I have taken up the role of helping the little-ys get ready and helping them get their stuff at the end of the night and they're all angels, and it just reminds me of the good old days, so yeah!"

You took a break from your makeup to look at the comments and your eyes widened when you saw 800,000 people were watching.

user429 i love her laugh

jazy_ballet I LOVE GETTING TO PLAY A RAT

saramanning how did you start ballet?

evanbraid what foundation did you use 😍

y/nballet4ever what are your hobbies aside from ballet 🩷

You proceeded to the task of doing your makeup after seeing that question, "I have recently gotten into football! I watched the Women's World Cup and it was the first time I was genuinely invested in a sport and I've kinda just kept on the football train now. That's kind of a lie I'm more on the football jet plane, if that makes sense. I am so invested in it's almost getting out of hand. I think about it all the time!" You had to laugh at yourself and how pathetic you sounded.

smith124 OMG! Who do you go for?

"I go for Arsenal, it wasn't really a conscious decision, to be honest. I just sort of figured out who everyone on the team was really fast and there was a game on, maybe 2 days after I had started 'investigating' and researching the team so I was like, why not? Um, but yeah I went to the game and I loved it! I felt kind of odd because I didn't have a jersey but I do now! I have, 12, if I remember correctly. That's Arsenal and England jerseys so..." You cringed at how fangirly you sounded.

p0llyr1chardz who's your favourite player???

"Favourite player? They're all so personable and great players like it's kind of mind-boggling how good they are but," You paused to think as you applied the finishing touches to your makeup. "Um, my favourite player might have to be Katie McCabe or Lucy Bronze, if we are talking Lionesses. If I am being so honest, I only really care about the women’s game. I just can’t get into the men's games but maybe it’s just my pure love for women that has me interested in football, not the actual game. I also love the "ACL squad" because, if you didn't know 2 years ago, I tore my ACL and while it's most certainly not a fun thing, I find the similarities in the rehab and the experiences they've all gone through compared to mine really interesting. Because whilst on a sheet of paper, football and ballet are nothing alike, the rehab after an ACL injury is really similar and I mean it could be put down to both being quite foot or leg-focused but I find it really interesting. Especially with what Viv and Beth are doing with their documentary, spreading word about it, getting people to understand the severity of it and helping everyone understand why it's happening or trying to. I guess the biggest difference is that ACL injuries are extremely prominent in women's football and my injury was sort of like any other injury, a mistake or whatever you want to call it."

bethmead_ ❤️❤️❤️

Everyone could see you intently staring at your phone in silence for a moment, reading the comments, before you screamed and jumped from your chair, you laughed and settled back into your chair, "Sorry, guys! Oh my days, Beth! Hi, oh my, oh I love you so much. Not in a weird way! In a fan way! Sorry, oh my days, y/n you're embarrassing yourself." You placed your hands on your head and took a deep breath. "Sorry guys, so onto my hair! I hate doing my hair," You sulked slightly.

leahwilliamsonn ❤️❤️❤️

"That's crazy," You sat in awe, "What is going on! Hi, Leah," You waved like a little girl, "This is crazy..." You did your hair humming with a smile on your face.

"Sorry for being silent for a hot sec, I can't focus on anything other than my hair when I'm doing it for a show." You smiled meekly at the camera.

bethmead_ will we be seeing you at the Watford game?

You squealed with pure excitement, "Yes! 1000%, I am going to be the Watford game. Of course, I am.”

You apologised that you had to step out of frame for a moment to put on your costume. 

“Alright, surprise reveal for the costume of the night! Drum roll please…” You stepped into the frame in your Sugar Plum Princess leotard, looking a little bit silly without your tutu, “Sorry for not being in my tutu but I can’t sit in it and I have to drive to the Oprah House so…”

lottewubbenmoy see you there 😉

You almost fainted once you saw Lotte’s comment, due to fear or excitement maybe, but most likely from the scream you let out that had you explaining the last hour to your neighbour.

yourusername posted on their story

[simpxxstan]

CONGRATULATIONS FOR 550 FOLLOWERS!!! YOU DESERVE IT AND A LOTTTTT MOREEE!!!! 💖❤️💕

For the celebration can I please request wonwoo + one of the girls (by weekend)

- love ya 💝💞

thank you so much! your request is perfect because i've associated this song with wonwoo so many times UGH hope you like this!!

this is part of my 550 followers celebration event! find the rest of the content of this event here!

genre: actors au, smut, toxic relationship, angst

word count: 4.4k

warnings: 18+ NSFW MINORS DO NOT INTERACT very toxic and manipulative wonwoo, actor!wonwoo, self confidence issues, self-image issues, mentions of dieting to alter appearances, implied big age gap, fwb dynamics, usage of pet names (doll, love, babe, darling), dom-sub dynamics, dom!wonwoo, sub!reader, public sex, implied spanking and edging, unprotected sex (do not do this irl pls), mirror sex, mild bondage, oral (m. receiving, f. receiving), verbal fighting, very ambiguous ending.

wonwoo doesn't even know your name. but his eyes have been on yours through the entire evening of the post-premiere party. you're happy being a wallflower- you don't even expect anything else. Because why would anyone notice a simple side character when there are so many stars to steal the show?

and yet, his eyes have strayed to you through the crowds of the party. even when he's in the spotlight, even when all the cameras are flashing on him, even when his co-star, who's the highest-paid actress in the country right now, keeps rubbing her body against his arm; even when every other woman in the party is busy flaunting their figures and their charms to him; even when everyone has their eyes on him.

you think you're mistaken. you quietly sip on your cocktail, staying on the sidelines. you're not really looking for attention tonight. your character might be a small one, just a minor role, but you're still extremely proud of yourself. you've just made your film debut, and you're just twenty-three. young enough for just a little success to fuel infinite adrenaline, but also old enough to know how to control your fire. tonight is for the small victories for you, and you've made up your mind to retire early, and go home to your friends and actually begin the party.

"y/n?" you spin around so fast that your hair whips into your face.

"mr. jeon?"

wonwoo's right there, his hair slicked back with gel, wearing the hottest design of the season effortlessly. there's a pair of glasses sitting casually on his nose, one eyebrow slightly raised. "there's no need to be formal, you know. we are colleagues, please call me wonwoo."

your nervousness must be visible through your face, because wonwoo's eyes sparkle with amusement. frankly, you don't even know how wonwoo even knows your name. you haven't interacted with him directly through the film- except for the fifteen minutes of the climax scene where you were on the screen at the same time as him.

"i- i'm sorry. wonwoo."

"happy to see you here. hope you're enjoying the party?"

your breath stutters. "i- i am. yes, very much." it's a fucking lie. you haven't moved from this spot for the last half an hour, you've been sipping on the same cocktail for the last ten minutes, and you've only conversed with two more actors in the film who had equally small roles as you.

wonwoo smiles at you, and your heart skips a beat. it's the same effect he has on every goddamn person. it's why he's become who he is now- charming, handsome and everyone's walking wet dream. "i'll see you around, then." and then he's gone, your eyes left wide and your thoughts all scattered.

_

you see wonwoo again when he invites you to a party at his country house. you think he's mistakenly invited you, up until the moment that the gates open for you when the guards see your face. you're sure glad you specially bought a new dress for this occasion, because the party seems to be filled with the cream of the celebrities of the current scene. and yet, his eyes find yours again. "you're here." you've prepared yourself better now, so that he doesn't render you a stuttering, stumbling mess again. "i couldn't turn down your invitation, of course." you're wearing your favourite wine-shaded lipstick, and you've chosen a dress that tastefully shows enough skin to make you look more a woman and less a girl.

it works on wonwoo.

he steps closer to you, his eyes raking over your figure. you can see enough haze in his obsidian eyes to know his look is one of appreciation. it has a wild effect on you- the combined attack of the scent of his cologne and the way his hair's pushed off his forehead to expose his strong eyebrows has your blood rushing. "you look beautiful." your eyes raise to meet his, and he hands a glass of wine into your hands, his fingers lingering on to the ghost of your touch for a second too long. "thank you?" you cringe at the tone of your own words. "i- sorry. i don't know just how to react about the fact i'm here at your party." you purse your lips and avert your gaze, only stealing glances at wonwoo when he chuckles. "you're finding this funny." "i'm not laughing at you, i swear." the wine's pretty strong. you don't like the taste of it except you can't say so to wonwoo who must've spent the racks on this. "you are. but you must be used to this. fans, after all." "well, it is an honour that you're a fan." "honour? i'm sure it's not. i'm a nobody."

wonwoo leans in, closer to you, his voice low enough to ensure no one else hears him except you.

"a beautiful lady is never a nobody."

you stay next to wonwoo through the evening. on the sofa, in front of the guests, at the dining table, in the balcony when wonwoo takes a cigarette break. he doesn't leave your side all evening, and who are you to turn him away?

_

wonwoo takes you on his yacht the next weekend.

"i have to ask you something." you've worn your favourite jumpsuit for the occasion, and wonwoo's standing on the neck, a polo t-shirt snug on his body.

"yes?"

"what is it exactly that you're doing? you and i are not friends, jeon wonwoo."

"you're right. we're not friends." wonwoo lifts his sunglass off his eyes and stands close to you. the night air makes your hair fly off into the hair, and he extends a hand to touch the skin on your neck that's left exposed. "i don't want to be friends with you, y/n. i just want you."

you gulp. you hesitate. that's your biggest mistake. because it takes your heart that one idle second to fold into wonwoo's charms, and you part your lips at the way his fingers rub circles into the same sensitive spot on your neck.

"what do you think? will you let me touch you?" god, how can he say it so easily?

you tilt your head to give him better access.

_

wonwoo makes love to you on the deck that night. you're fully sober, you're barely 100 metres away from the coast where everyone can see you. but you still let wonwoo strip off your dress and lay you out on the deck to suck at your breasts and fuck his fingers into your wet, sloppy cunt. when your cum is smothered all over his hands, he takes you to his bedroom. your hands are tied back, your body arching to give him more access. there's so much he's giving you- so many sensations at once. he brings a cube of ice and rubs it over your nipples to soothe them after the way he's sucked them red for so long. when your body shivers because of the ice, he pulls you into his arms, whispering soothing praise in your ears- even going as far as letting you grind down on his thigh. your hands are freed as he drives his cock into your cunt, all at once. you scream out his name- you've never taken such a big cock, but you want to please him. so bad. so you let him thrust himself into you lazily until you're begging him to go faster.

somewhere in the middle of the night, you lose your mind and beg him to use you. wonwoo's smirk is a memory you'll never forget even if you don't see him ever again. it's a smirk that will remind you of the way he flipped you on top of him, laying you out on his lap, as he leans on the headboard of his bed and calmly fingers your cunt again, pushing his cum back into you, until your eyes roll back and you lose all sense of time and place.

the last thing you remember from that night is when wonwoo kisses you, and fucks you into the mattress, and you grasp onto his shoulders as he relentlessly pumps into you. "so lovely, my doll. you're my doll, isn't that right?" you don't even know what you're saying at this point- it's too late into the night and all your thoughts are clouded by just wonwoo. "yes. yours, yours, yours."

_

wonwoo comes to your apartment the next day, with a bouquet of calla lilies and takeout food. the food doesn't get eaten for dinner, you do. the food gets eaten the next morning, your entire body too weak to even stand up straight. he feeds you as he sits next to you on the bed, kissing your forehead every two seconds. he runs a bath for you, and lifts you straight from the bed to the tub, and kisses you until your entire body relaxes in the warm water.

you don't talk much about anything other than the lust running thick through your veins for the entire day. you turn on the tv to watch something, but you end up sucking wonwoo's cock when he sits back on your couch and holds the end of your head to ensure you're taking him to the back of your throat, murmuring praises to you without a moment's lapse. when your mouth is full of his cum, he asks you to tell you whose doll you are. you shake your head, knowing you're going to make a mess if you try to talk. "go on. don't make me ask you again." wonwoo's voice is low, rumbling like thunder as he stares down into your eyes.

"y- yours!" you say as carefully as you can, and yet so much of the cum spills down your chin onto your breasts, where wonwoo licks it clean off you. "so pretty, but so messy. do you want a break now, doll?"

"no. please- no." wonwoo coos at you, as his hand strays down to your pussy and he feels the way your panties have turned transculent with how turned on you are. "come onto my lap, doll."

that night, you skip dinner. the next day, you take breaks in between sex to eat on a single pizza you ordered for lunch. you've fucked on every damn surface in your apartment- from the kitchen counter to your bathroom floor, from the balcony to the guest bedroom, from the loveseat underneath the window to the dining table. and yet, you can't keep yourself away from this man, and wonwoo, surprisingly, doesn't want to leave either.

until he does.

"darling, i'm going to have to leave in the morning" you're spent, lying on the bed, heaving in breaths to calm your racing heart after an excrutiatingly long session of spanking and edging. "you do?" you turn around on your elbows to look at him, and he pulls you over his chest, resting your head on this pecs. "i do. i have shooting tomorrow. would you mind if i came back in the evening? or you could come to m-" "wonwoo. can we slow down?" he stops talking for a second. you stare at him, trying to read his face.

you see wonwoo think for a long moment. finally, you raise your eyebrows and ask him again, "well?" "we could but... i can't do slow with you, doll. you're driving me crazy."

there. he's taken your breath away again.

he flips you over, his tongue already licking the valley between your breasts. you shiver all over, his hands roam your skin to calm you down. "i want you so bad, you have no idea." oh, you think you do. jeon wonwoo's been in your apartment for four days straight- when he has a perfectly beautiful mansion waiting for him. he's gone without decent food. gone without working out, gone without any of his makeup or skincare, gone without picking any work calls. you know he must want you bad enough to completely forget about his work life to come spend these days with you, rutting in your bed for hours and hours.

but a candle that burns fast dies out quickly.

you cradle wonwoo's face in your hands, pulling him away from your breasts. "let's get some sleep, hmm? you have work tomorrow."

_

wonwoo is gone before you even wake up. your mouth is filled with a bitter taste as you recall how mindlessly you've spent the last week- on the yacht and now at your house. you check your emails. no callbacks or offers from the auditions you've given in the past month. it's disheartening, but nothing new. every aspiring artists suffers the same struggles. but to be honest, you'd rather choose this over taking up a different, safer profession, as your parents would call it. you can't imagine not doing acting- it's the one thing which has reciprocated your love for it through your life. well, you hope that once the film reaches more people, you can secure some role through future auditions. till then, you text the local theatre troupe you're a part of, and inform them that you'll be free for their next performance.

wonwoo calls you when it's already dark outside. "my car's outside. think you can come over for the night?" you want to say no. you want to restrict the attraction- because you know you're falling for someone for whom everyone falls, and he'll never take this seriously, whatever this is. but you're a moth drawn to a flame, ready to burn till the last moment.

"yes, i'll come down in ten minutes."

wonwoo's not in the car. his chauffeur takes you to his mansion, and you find him sitting in the lawn, smoking a cigarette. as soon as he sees you, he calls out to you. "y/n! you're finally here." he runs over to meet you halfway and picks you up in his arms. "what's this behaviour, wonwoo?" you're flustered as hell, a giggling mess in his arms. "i missed you too much. how was your day today?" wonwoo sits down on the exquisite-looking chaise in the middle of the lawn. you notice that there's no one else around, except nature and the moonlight. wonwoo pulls you into his lap, and you smile at the way his hands roam through your body. "just like any other day. didn't get any emails, did yoga and ate fruits because i need to diet." "you don't. whoever told you that?" you laugh. "your stylist, actually. she says i need a better figure to get more roles." wonwoo nose scrunches, and his fingers slip under your t-shirt to touch your skin. "i'm going to change my stylist." and then he kisses your neck when you laugh out loud, pushing your neck further to give him better access and you arch out your body to feel as much of him as you can.

the next morning, you wake up much after the sun's already overhead. wonwoo's still asleep next to you, his hair splayed out across the pillow, his face down on his pillow. he has a leg over your body, but you carefully escape and get out of bed.

there's a new mail in your inbox.

"fuck!" you shout out when you see the contents of the mail, not realising that wonwoo's still sleeping. he wakes up instantly and peers at you. "don't scream if i'm not making you scream, love. what's up?" his voice is broken but inviting, and you jump into the bed next to him. "i just got an offer to model for a brand!" wonwoo gasps, sitting up and wearing his glasses. "that's amazing, y/n!" "i know right! i've never modelled before- oh i really need to get on that diet now-" "babe. babe, no. you look perfect. you have no need to diet forcefully. they'll take you as you are, otherwise they don't deserve you." wonwoo pulls you into a hug, his bare skin so warm and soft, and you melt into his touch. after he holds you for many long minutes, you whisper to him so softly, he may not even hear it. "thank you, wonwoo." his gaze is soft when he looks at you, "let me show you how perfect you are."

and wonwoo takes you to his walk-in closet, where an entire wall is covered with mirrors. when the two of you are facing the mirror, he begins kissing your neck from behind you, peeling off your layers. "keep your eyes on yourself, doll. see how perfect you are." and he shows you. he gets on the floor, hooking one leg on his shoulder, as he eats you out. then he pushes you on the closed closet behind you, and fucks you while you hold on to it for dear life. the position makes your legs ache, but the mirror's visual of wonwoo's broad back and his thrusting into you, the way his dark mop of hair shakes when he grabs your breasts and sucks them, and the way his hands leave red marks on your hips with how hard he's holding you, leaves you feeling too aroused and dirty to ask him to take this somewhere else.

_

you almost move in to wonwoo's house over the next month, with how much time you spend with him. he brings over your clothes and other belongings to his house, he drives you around everywhere, and he makes love to you like a touch-starved man every night. and you love it. you love the feeling of having wonwoo all to yourself. even when there are hundreds of other people waiting for him, craving for his touch, you have the power to make wonwoo fall to his knees for you, and it makes you high. you're on top of the world, and you fail to see who's put you there.

your career also radically takes off- must be the after effect of the film. you get several modelling offers, advertisements and even a magazine cover featuring actors who've originated from roots in theatre. but the real kill is when your application to the audition for a role at one of the most anticipated tv shows of the next year gets accepted. wonwoo smothers you with sweet kisses when you tell him the news, and although you haven't labelled anything, it starts to feel too domestic for you to think he's no longer serious about you. for he often texts you as wife, takes you out to secret dates where you're kissing in alleys, and eats dinner with you every night. he makes you feel so good, you can't be bothered to worry about anything.

you know wonwoo's at his shooting spot when you arrive at the hall where the film audition's taking place. so you're incredibly surprised to see that he's sitting right next to the director of the film on the audition panel. "what are you doing here?" you text him as you wait for your turn to audition. "nothing- just a favour for an old friend. don't worry, babe. i won't be judging. i won't even be saying a word." he texts you back. you look up at him from your spot in the wings, and you smirk when your eyes meet his. he winks at you, and in spite of all the distance, your heart flutters.

you pass the audition. you're also offered a role promotion- from the side chick of the villain, you're now the male lead's second love interest. "no surprise, babe. you did so well," wonwoo tells you later when he's kissing you in the back of the car. "how can you say that! the others were so good. i was literally so nervous!" he pulls away from the spot he's been biting hickeys into on your neck, and laughs. "you've gotta work on your confidence, babe. but not on your talent. no one there was better than you, and you should know it."

_

wonwoo finishes filming for his project by the end of the next month. he insists you accompany him to the pre-release party- which is frankly a little shocking.

"are you sure you want to be seen with me?" you ask him from the corner of the bed, and wonwoo kneels before you, tying the strings of your heels. "are you serious right now? god, what happened to all those discussions about confidence?" you sigh, pouting as he looks up at you. "i don't know. what if your fans don't like me? you know how fans can be." wonwoo laughs. "no, i don't." you roll your eyes, "that's because you've never-" been seen publicly with someone you're dating, you want to say. but your words trail off when you realise wonwoo's never really said he's dating you. you might be friends with benefits in his mind, even though he calls you love and babe.

he finishes tying up your heels and looks at you. "hmm?" "what i mean is that- i'm a nobody, wonwoo. i don't want your image to be affected because me." he laughs, "you're not nobody. you're y/n. and you don't have to worry about me. nothing you do can affect my public image.

wonwoo's words act like a shot of confidence injected into your bloodstream, and you hold your head up high when you get out of the car, expecting wonwoo to join you from the other side of the car.

he doesn't.

he immediately moves on to where his co-stars are standing, flashing dazzling smiles to the press waiting for him. it's an understandable move, but it makes you feel very disoriented for a second as you get a grip on yourself. you're not nobody. not a single camera flashes to capture you. you're not nobody. not a single head turns to look at you. you're not nobody. you're a wallflower again, back where wonwoo found you six months ago. nothing's changed. you are nobody.

after a few drinks and some small talk with people you see, you escape to take a break in the bathroom. you're just about to get out after taking a few minutes to recover, when you find wonwoo standing right outside. "wonwoo?" "let me in, babe." you're confused but he smiles and slowly comes in. "what's wr-" he doesn't respond, he pushes you against the tiled wall and kisses you. "i miss you, that's all." and with a few touches, he makes you forget all doubts in your mind. almost. "you look so good tonight, left me with a boner all evening." "no one asked you to be away from me." you whisper in between moans as his hands spread the slit of your dress and find your clothed pussy. "shhh. don't be a brat now, doll. think you'll let me fuck your mouth quickly? darling, don't refuse me now. i'll make it up to you when we get home. i can't possibly walk around with this boner all night." he makes sure not to leave hickeys on your neck, but the way he's touching you makes you weak. "yes, fuck. please, wonwoo."

so you get on your knees in the bathroom of this five-star hotel's hall, your knees cold against the tile, and take out wonwoo's thick red cock from his pants. it is painfully hard, and you take it in one go, your mouth used to the stretch by now. it takes you less than five minutes to get him to cum, thankfully he finishes in the washbasin and not in your mouth. when the redness of his eyes have subsided from the orgasm, he kisses your cheek, whispering good girl to you, and leaves you. your throat is raw, your underwear uncomfortable and your skin cold. but you're sure no one will notice even if your lipstick's ruined.

_

you hand wonwoo your phone, showing him a few screenshots open. there's conversations happening on social media about your upcoming film, but it's not good publicity. there's apparently a chat that's been leaked, claiming that you got the role only because you're sleeping with wonwoo.

"is it true?"

wonwoo takes a glance at your phone, before returning to the game he's playing on his laptop. "of course not, babe."

"what about the chat?"

"you know how rumours start."

"wonwoo, look at me and reply."

"one second. i need to finish this round."

"wonwoo!" he finally looks at you. "what?" "tell me the truth. look into my eyes and tell me the truth." "i told you already. it's all false." "wonwoo, i would rather not get roles than get it through you."

he laughs. "really? someone's grown up with a lot of morals, i see."

"i'm serious."

the expression on his face morphs from one of mirth to a serious look you've never seen in real life, only in his film when he's seconds away from nabbing the villain. "are you? would you honestly rather be poor than successful with a little bit of help?"

your blood boils, and you stand up, moving away from him. "so you're admitting it?" your voice grows high pitched, but you're feeling unstable. "to what?" "fixing the audition?" wonwoo laughs again. "what about it? you dese-" "do not bullshit me, wonwoo. did you or did you not?" "y/n-" "why were you there that day? did you or did you not, wonwoo, i need to know!"

"i did." there's a look of amusement in his eyes, but it's not attractive at all. "i did because i could. because i don't want to date someone who's dirt poor and on the edges of the industry."

your breath stops in your throat. for a second you think you're going to choke and die, but then wonwoo reaches out and touches your cheeks. "i was just looking out for you, love." you stand frozen, numb against his touch. you can't look into his eyes, you fear the venom in their darkness.

"fuck you, jeon wonwoo."

his hand stops around your jaw. "what?"

"you can go get high on your power and fame. don't use me to boost your own ego." you finally look up at him. "fuck you."

wonwoo smirks.

"it'll sting for a bit. just like sex. it'll get really pleasant soon when the fruits start coming in. you're my smart doll, aren't you?"

[ohwowimlonley]

The Monster’s Gone (He’s on the Run) - Spencer Reid

Summary - a night in with your boyfriend of four months leads to some disturbing secrets being spilled

Word Count - 3862

Warnings - angst angst angst, kind of graphic depictions of trauma, past non-con, supportive spencer, so much crying, making out, the beginning of smut, nudity, self-sabotage, blowjobs (kinda)

A small note - the backstory for this is based on my own personal experience so pls be kind when commenting/reblogging

Your boyfriend is perceptive by nature, not by training. He knows what he does not because he spent years studying (though it did help), but because it is impossible for him to walk into a room without noticing everything, and drawing to his own conclusions. Some might call this tedious, or difficult to live with, but this is your Spencer, and there isn’t anything you find tedious about him.

It is because of his perceptive nature that you’re forced to tell him the truth about yourself.

It’s a Thursday afternoon, just past four o’clock, but you’re already curled up in bed with Spencer because he’s just come home after a week away on a case and neither of you have a clue when he’ll be called away again. One of his old French movies is droning on in the corner of the room, but you’re not looking at it. You’re looking at your Spencer; at his barely stubbly jaw, his hair that's just beginning to curl at the ends, the way his lips move in sync with the words the actors speak on the screen.

“Did you know that in the original script-” you cut off his attempt at speaking by landing a rather forceful kiss on his chapped lips as he drew a deep breath in. It takes him by surprise, but it isn’t more than a few seconds before both of his hands are coming up to cup at your jaw and his tongue is pushing against your lips. You graciously let him in, manoeuvring one of your hands to tangle through your boyfriend’s unbrushed locks, pulling ever so gently and coaxing a whine out of his mouth.

The two of you remain like that for a few blissful minutes, breathing in each other’s air and tasting each other’s tongues. Eventually, you give in to your body’s desires and begin rolling your hips against his. Spencer stifles a gasp against your exposed neck and moves one of his hands down to grip at your waist, not harsh enough to bruise but enough to know that he’s there through the haze of your mind.

Again, these small ministrations carry on for the next few minutes, just the two of you in your own little bubble, safe from everything else in the world.

Eventually, Spencer grows more frantic, and so do you, chasing the friction his plaid pyjama bottoms give you, rubbing up against your cotton shorts and pressing against you just right. Your lips detach from one another, and you’re left panting into one another’s open mouths, grinning madly. What changes the whole ordeal for you is when Spencer begins pushing you by the shoulders, just gently, but you still find yourself sliding down, down the mattress until you’re surrounded by the long kicked away duvet between his knees and you’re face to face with a very obvious bulge. In the heat of the moment, Spencer must mistake your wide eyes for surprise at his size (which, in all honesty, is fairly impressive) and your quickened breathing in response to the intense make out from not seconds before. But neither of those things are true. You’re trapped in a whole other world.

“Down,” it’s gruff, and the hand shoving at your shoulder feels almost identical to Spencer’s. This time, however, you voice your concerns as soon as they arise.

“Gentle,” you remind him. It doesn’t work.

“Oh calm down, it’s not that bad,” and then he’s quiet, just the sound of his fly unzipping and then a choked gasp coming from your lips as he shoves his cock between them.

“Honey?” Spencer clocks onto something this time, but you’re already pushing it from the forefront of your mind. It’s not that bad, you remind yourself. You just shake your head with what you hope looks like a genuine smile, and busy your fingers by working on pulling his trousers down. Maybe, maybe if you do it this once, with Spencer, then it will all get better. You can trust your spencer.

And again, it’s okay for the first few minutes. You go through the motions, not entirely present but not completely gone. You find yourself wishing you could stop, but in that very same moment, Spencer is gripping at your hair and tugging you further down onto himself and all of a sudden, you’re right back there.

You try to pull back, desperate to relieve the sudden pressure against the back of your throat, but his hands keep you in place. In a bid to get his attention, you cover one of his hands with yours, but he doesn’t budge, not even when you dig your nails in. He just chases his high faster and faster, bucking up into the back of your throat. Maybe he just didn’t hear you, or maybe that’s just what you tell yourself to stay sane. But there’s no way he didn’t notice the tears dripping from your cheeks onto his body.

You’re pulled back to the present by a particularly harsh pull on your hair and a brushing of his tip against the back of your throat that has you gagging harshly and pulling away with as much strength as you can muster. Tears, the same tears as that night, fall in rivulets down your cheeks, welling your neck and falling all the way down to the hair at the base of your neck and the dips of your collar bones.

Distantly, you can hear Spencer calling your name, but you’ve gone numb. Everything is numb. Your ears are buzzing. Your fingers feel like strange entities attached to you. A pair of soft hands wrap around your wrists, and it’s only now that you realise you’ve been tugging on the roots of your hair. You squeeze your eyes closed as tight as you can, saving yourself from the disappointed gaze you just know Spencer is casting in your direction. Please don’t say anything, please don’t say anything, please don’t say anything.

“Honey?” Fuck. You keep your eyes closed, praying that he might just leave you alone. No such luck, “honey, I think you’re having a panic attack, is there any way that I can help you?”

Help you? You expect him to shout at you, maybe storm off into the next room as a punishment for ruining his orgasm, not to be so gentle. You take in a deep shuddering breath and blink your eyes open cautiously, immediately averting your eyeline from your boyfriend’s, shrinking away from his grip on your wrists, and he lets you do so without complaint.

“Okay, no touching,” out of the corner of your eye, you can see him nodding to himself, pulling himself further from you, but not so far that you can’t reach for him if you want to. He lets you breathe for a moment, reminding you gently every time it’s needed to stop pulling at your hair with a quiet but reassuring quip of ‘hands, sweetheart’.

“Clean,” you need to feel clean again. You don’t realise you’d said it out loud until Spencer stands up and offers a hand to you. It lingers in the air between you, and it’s clear he isn’t forcing you to take it. Still, you just avert your eyes again, tears falling faster than a waterfall and your ribs begin aching with the effort to keep breathing.

“That’s okay, honey,” he drops his arm without complaint, but you still flinch at the sound of his arm slapping back against his chest, “do you think you can follow me to the bathroom?”

You nod, and keep nodding even as you stand up because the repetitive motion is comforting even if it’s making your head throb and your vision unusable. You follow Spencer's feet as you trudge to the bathroom, only just registering the fact he’s gone soft again and is hidden back away in his pyjamas.

He pulls on the string to click the bathroom, and suddenly you’re both bathed in fluorescent yellow light, and you’re pinching back a wince at the sudden brightness. Spencer seats himself on the side of the bath, looking up at you without expecting you to look back.

“Do you want me to turn the shower on, or would you like to use the sink?” He points to each of them, speaking slowly so you can understand through your heaving breaths. You raise a shaking, tentative hand and point in the direction of the shower, to which Spencer beams with pride, “well done, honey. Do you want me to make it how you like it?”

You think for a moment, before shaking your head with closed eyes, “cold,”

“Cold? You’re cold, sweetheart?” A gentle sob lets him know that he isn’t correct, “you want the shower cold?”

You neither nod nor shake your head, but your crying decreases in volume just enough so that Spencer knows he’s correct. You take the next few minutes to try your hardest to bring your breathing back to normal, inhaling the pleasant scent of one of your shower melts dissolving as your boyfriend fiddled about with the temperature.

“Okay, honey, this is all ready for you. Do you need my help in there or would you like to be alone,” you indicate the latter, and he nods, “that’s okay, I’ll be just outside that door if you need me, do you want me to help you get undressed before I go?”

You contemplate your shaking hands. Would they be strong enough to pull the suddenly very heavy fabric of his hoodie over your head? Before you work yourself up too much, you give him a shaky, somewhat aggressive nod and hold your arms up in the air. It takes him a few minutes to completely undress you, pausing after removing each article to ensure you’re okay. When you’re eventually nude in front of him, his gaze doesn’t drop from your eyes. Logically, you should know that he’s doing it to ensure you feel safe in his presence, but all your panic-warped brain can comprehend is that you can’t suck your boyfriend’s dick without crying and now he won’t even look at you naked.

“Do you want me to leave you alone?” His soft, somewhat unsure voice brings you back to semi-lucidity. You’re not quite able to choke back the chest bursting sub that rips from your throat at the thought of him leaving you. You squeeze your eyes shut and clamp a hand over your mouth in the hopes of quelling your embarrassment even by just the smallest bit.

Your knees buckle under the weight of your anxiety and you have to grip onto the porcelain of the bathtub next to Spencer’s thigh to keep from falling over.

It’s clear to you he doesn’t know what to do; his hands splaying across the lip of the bathtub, as if he’s about to stand, but he doesn’t, and his mouth gapes as if he’s about to whisper reassurances in your ear, but his voice fails him. He’s stuck, waiting for you to give him the smallest indication of what to do, what to say.

His prayers are answered seconds later with a bruising grip on his bicep, your eyes wide and shining with tears as you finally, finally make eye contact with him, and Spencer can physically feel his heart shatter with your next words.

“P- please don’t leave me, I can- I can do it better I promise, just let me try it again, I won’t- won’t mess up this time, just don’t leave me,” you wail up at him desperately, forcing your way down onto your knees and taking advantage of Spencer’s momentary shock to push his pyjama pants down to his knees and grasp at his now soft cock, “please, I can do it,”

“Oh,” he doesn’t quite manage to blink away his tears this time, and a droplet of his sadness lands on your cheek. You look up at him, and he crouches down to your level tucking himself away again despite your protests. His knees hit the floor just in front of yours and he reaches up gently to cup your chin in his hands, “honey I want you to listen to me, really listen to me, okay?”

You hiccup your way through a nod.

“You don’t- you don’t ever, ever have to do that again, okay?” His eyes bore into yours, nodding along to his own words, “whoever made you think that way was wrong, and I will tell you everyday for the rest of my life if I have to. I will never let anyone hurt you like that again, okay? You’re safe with me, and you can always tell me no,”

“But- but what if-“ you choke down a sob, but Spencer brushes a calloused thumb over your cheekbone, shushing you ever so gently.

“No, baby, no what ifs,” he says it with a finality that has you biting down on your bottom lip and jerking your head up and down, but your boyfriend must tell from your face that you’re not totally absorbing the words coming out of his mouth, “okay sweetness, let’s talk about this later, you wanna get in the shower now?”

“Hmph,” is your only reply, and you’re glad Spencer’s so good at reading your face because he helps you stand up and hook your legs over the lip of the bath.

“Okay, I’ll wait right out here and you can take a minute to yourself,” he seats himself on the closed lid of the toilet, and keeps his eyes a polite distance away from your body as you step under the cold spray of the shower.

The shock of the cold spray forces you to draw in a deep breath, not quite stopping your hyperventilation but drawing it out enough so that your head stops spinning. You try not to think about it before sticking your head underneath the waterfall of ice cold water.

You close your eyes and press the heel of your hand to your sternum, hearing your heart rate gradually slow its pulsating in your ears. You’re face-first in the spray, but you make no effort to angle your head upwards, allowing the hair at the crown of your head drip frigid droplets of water down your nose and onto your chin.

Over the roar of the rushing water, you are only just able to hear the soft sounds of Spencer sniffling. You can’t bring yourself to look over, knowing that he’s crying over you, all because you can’t buck up and be a good girlfriend.

The next few minutes pass in relative silence, with you trying to ignore the concealed sounds of Spencer crying for the sake of your own sanity and him keeping a dillengent eye on you as you scrub your entire body clean of any evidence from the night's activities. When the time finally comes to turn off the water and step out, you find yourself keeping eye contact with your feet.

Before you’re even able to think of getting the towel off the hook next to you, it’s already been wrapped around you and you’re being lifted from the tub by Spencer. Wordlessly, he guides you back into his bedroom, hands hovering awkwardly around your waist, still unsure as to if you’d react badly to him touching you. He gets you sat down and sets about finding you some clothes. He holds up a pair of boxers to himself, then shakes his head and snatches up a set of grey sweatpants and one of his silly little casual shirts with a slogan akin to one you’d see in a Spiderman movie.

“Arms up for me, sweetness,” he gives the lightest tap to your elbow, prompting you to hold your arms aloft so he can cover you up, then allow your arms to drop down, dead from their lack of blood, “that’s it, can you budge your hips for me?”

You try your absolute hardest to lift your bum from the fitted sheet, but you only have so much strength left, and it’s only half a second before you slump back down again, but in that time he had managed to wrench the fabric properly onto you. You let out another sob; Spencer had to do everything for you. When would he realise that it isn’t worth his time?

“There we go,” he smiles, but his eyes are rimmed with fire, so you simply can't remove the trembling frown ingrained on your face. Spencer looks up at you, and his own frown takes over, “do you wanna tell me about it?”

You take a sharp breath in, and Spencer backtracks quickly, “y-you don’t have to, why don’t you go to sleep? I’ll go on the couch tonight, if you want. Whatever you want, I-I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to,”

“Will you lay with me?” You slump down on his bed as you say it, paying no mind to the fact that you’re on his side of the bed. You’ve gone numb. No longer are you sobbing or choking on tears. Still, though, hot streams of liquid sadness stream down your cheeks as you rest your face on your boyfriend’s memory foam pillow.

Spencer shuffles across the room, swiping at his face to clear it of its fog as you kick at the duvet until you’re able to wriggle under. He joins you, and a dull throb of sadness aches in your heart when you realise he’s nervous to get into his own bed. He’s facing you, but not touching you, letting you keep as much distance as you want but not expressly requesting it.

“Are we going to sleep, or are we just going to calm down?” It’s a fair question, in all honesty; he’s been on a case the last few days so he’s had even less sleep than usual, he fears that if he allows himself to relax too much, he’ll fall asleep while you’re working up the courage to speak. He’s never had an issue with waiting for you to gather your words; he loves being a person you feel safe enough to really speak your mind to.

You don’t answer verbally yet again, just reach a hand back and open your palm towards Spencer as an invitation for him to hold it. He does, and waits patiently. Minutes pass, then maybe half an hour, all the while Spencer is smoothing his thumb across the back of your hand, never attempting to do anything more.

Another ten or so minutes pass before you turn in his direction and slip into his arms, silently, slowly. He allows you to settle in before wrapping his arms around you, loosely so as not to restrict you. Still, he doesn’t push you into talking.

“It wasn’t,” your throat is hoarse, and you have to clear it before continuing, “it wasn’t what you’re thinking. I wasn’t, like, raped,”

Just the word has Spencer gripping you tighter, but still he just lets you speak.

“I mean- I could’ve said no, and, and it was just my mouth, so it’s not that bad,” you reason, “like, he was my boyfriend, and he was nice to me, so it was kinda my job to do it. I just, I think maybe I didn’t like it when he was rough with me, maybe that’s why I freaked out. I’m sorry, I’ll do better next time,”

He waits for a moment, to be sure you’re finished talking before he responds, “oh, honey,”

It isn’t condescending, the way he speaks to you; it’s as if it physically hurts him to hear your perspective. His voice is thick with something a more talented profiler than you would call grief. He takes a deep breath, steadying himself before he continues, “I can go the rest of my life without ever needing you to do that for me,”

You eye him sceptically, but he continues without acknowledging it, “as far as I’m concerned, we never have to have sex. Not ever. Not if it makes you think of that, not if you think it’s something you should do,”

“But Spence-“

“No, no buts,” he asserts, followed by an apologetic, “sorry for interrupting, sweetheart, but I just don’t want to ever put you in that position again. That was scary,”

“I’m sorry Spence,” you can’t look at him directly in the eye, so you squeeze his bicep to let him know you’re being genuine, “I thought I would be okay, cos I was with you ‘n all, but then all of a sudden I couldn’t breathe and- and,”

You’re starting to get worked up again, so Spencer strokes between your shoulder blades, tracing along your spine as you recuperate.

“It’s not- I’m not afraid of you, Spencer, I don’t actually think you’d hurt me, I just couldn’t get that to stick in my stupid brain,” you bury your nose in his armpit, curling your arms around him and sighing as you finish speaking.

“Your brain isn’t being stupid,” he points out, in such a very Spencer way that you simply can’t stop yourself from smiling, “your brain is trying to protect you from suffering another traumatic event. Your brain just can’t tell the difference between someone you trust and someone you don’t, so it has the same base reaction and floods your system with adrenaline and cortisol, forcing you into a panic attack,”

You don’t really have the energy to respond to him any more, your panic attack combined with your boyfriend's soft-toned explanation has you yawning into his bare skin and moulding your body into his.

Spencer, noticing this, smiles to himself and presses a kiss to your head, “go to sleep, honey. We can talk more in the morning, if you want,”

You press your lips lazily to whatever patch of Spencer’s skin is closest to you and resign yourself to sleep, lulled into unconsciousness by the steady rhythm of your boyfriend's heart, and the never ending stroke of his three middle fingers between your shoulder blades.

Cm taglist - @mellozhi @aar-0n @spencereidapologist @halamet-chalamet @lubunnii

[kazz-brekker]

hotd episode 2 thoughts

aegon screaming hysterically and smashing up viserys's model of old valyria…alicent unable to get through a sentence without sobbing…helaena staring blankly at the wall and clutching jaehaerys's blanket…i love acting but also that all kind of broke me.

genuinely i am enjoying tom glynn-carney as aegon SO much, he's quickly becoming one of my favorite actors on the show and gives his character so much nuance.

otto using his grandson's horrific death as a pr stunt…truly that man never stops working, he's always on the clock.

i also LOVED the big blowout fight scene between rhaenyra and daemon, it's about time someone dragged that man to hell and back. "the darkness you sheathe within yourself like a sword" and "i don't trust you" and "you're pathetic" go OFF rhaenyra!

criston please don't send someone else on a suicidal assassination mission because you were slacking your duty and banging alicent while the heir to the throne got decapitated. oh, who i am kidding, that man has never had a normal reaction to anything in his life.

i'm so glad we got an actual scene with baela (and the promise of more with her and moondancer in future weeks!) since she and rhaena have been horrendously underused so far.

aemond you have so many issues please go to therapy not a brothel. also i've blogged about this before but the idea that he really thinks he's an equal threat to daemon honestly is so silly.

alyn AND addam of hull spotted, we've got the complete set, and a little teaser of seasmoke as well!

the scene between corlys and rhaenys where corlys was like "if daemon would just submit to rhaenyra and enjoy being a bottom as i do on occasion" made me laugh so hard my sister asked me if i was okay.

i'm very intrigued by the scene between rhaenyra and mysaria (especially the mutual bonding over being exasperated by daemon) since they're technically on the same side but very much at odds in the book and i'm curious to know if this will continue in future episodes.

i really like that this season is emphasizing the perspectives of smallfolk like the hull brothers, hugh hammer, and the brothel mistress, it's something i felt was missing in season 1.

this really was an episode of targaryen men getting absolutely dragged by others for their poor political decisions. can't say i support otto's decisions most of the time but he was 100% correct about aegon.

also the moment where otto realized he had schemed for 20+ years to land a total idiot who just fired him on the throne…delicious, but rhys ifans played it so well i honestly still felt bad for him.

daeron mention! at this point i was honestly starting to think they had cut him from the show so that was a surprise.

as an identical twin i very much enjoyed the erryk and arryk drama but i must admit that i ALSO could not tell the twins apart when they were dueling. someone please revoke my twin card.

alicent walking into a room, seeing aegon crying, and just walking out was kind of funny ngl.

i really didn't expect criston and alicent's dynamic this season but i'm honestly enjoying it a lot. the mutual self-flagellation over their affair, alicent repeatedly slapping him and criston allowing it…really fun honestly.

caraxes is properly coming back next episode and it's true, i HAVE missed that noodle boy <3

also it looks like our first proper looks at harrenhal, moondancer, and a bracken vs. blackwood fight!

[venmondiese]

HIDDEN TOUCHES

summary: Aemond decides another fruitful payment for his eye, which he has been craving a long time. in that, he makes lucerys watch how he does it.

request from my lovely @qyburnsghost

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Rhaena Targaryen. warnings: 18+ MDNI, DARK THEMES, targcest, oral (f receiving), exhibisionsm, p in v sex, forced voyeurism, rhaena x lucerys (mentioned), they are all of age bc of my mental health, no luc*mond -- ye olde enemies to lovers

note: this def got me out my comfort zone, so here it comes!! aemond x rhaena must be one of my fav ships probably. For my sake, and bc i won't write such things, all of the people involved are of age, and i didn't picture luke as his actor because he was very much a child. i assure you that luke is NOT envolved on the sex more than watching TT so... enjoy reading!!

“Prince Aemond”

Aemond turned to the hallway to see, and his only good eye took the image of her. Pompous, with her pink dress and her braids prettily decorated with some pink ribbons. She looked ridiculously pink.

“Lady Rhaena.”

He, on the other hand, was all dark. His attire black from head to bottom, except the small gold details of the embroidery of a dragon on his clothes. His boots were imponent every time he walked around, and his eyepatch was no different colour. 

The only similarity between both was the silver hair and the purple eyes.

“I see you and your…” he searches for a word, mockingly walking closer, his arms behind his back. “Kin, have come back to my home.” He says, tilting his head as he looks down at her. 

Rhaena looks up to him, and her hands are clasped to the front. He has to admit how feminine she is; he has heard about her. How knights fought for her favour, and made songs for her, in hopes for her to like them.

“We are one kin after all, aren’t we?”

“I suppose you can call yourself that” he says smugly. 

Rhaena looks at him with impatience. He was being rude on purpose.

“And how is my mother’s dragon?” she asks, trying to fight him back.

“Oh? You mean my dragon?” 

“My mother’s” she repeats, stubbornly.

“Not anymore, is it?” He snickers, a smirk on his lips as he raises his eyebrows mockingly. It makes her fume.

“Because it was stolen”

“Because your mother died” he corrects her. “Nothing can belong to the dead, can it?” 

“I suppose not” she says, faking a smile. “Even though it was stolen. You wouldn’t be able to see those things, I suppose. My bad” 

She sees how it ticks him off. How his one eye twitches in place and his jaw gets tense. 

“You can call it however you want, my Lady. I did not steal a legitimate right to no one. Dragons do not work like that. Not like titles” He says. “Such as Driftmark’s” He adds.

Rhaena breathes in and presses her lips together. He is taunting her on purpose, because Luke's claim has been questioned, for how unvalyrian he looks. He looks none of it. 

“And you’ll carry his bastard offspring” he murmurs, as he asks, as he intends to walk away.

Rhaena looks at him at how indecent he is. She blinks in disbelief at his debauchery. 

“Excuse me?” her voice stops him in his tracks, and he turns slowly, having a certain air of smugness to him.

“You two have been promised to each other since you were two years of age. It is no surprise” Aemond shrugs it off with a smirk. “Imagine it. What a shame your late mother’s wish to make you Lady of Driftmark has to come by marrying you off a Strong man” 

“He is not-”

“Isn’t he?” 

No one else is around. Rhaena knows. She loves Luke, she really does. He is kind and funny. But he isn’t… appealing to her romantically. He was her stepbrother, and her future husband. 

“He will be a good Lord of the Tiles. A good husband too” she defends him, weakly, looking at Aemond “A Lady like me only desires for someone who shall be kind and tender. If he is so, I’d love him”.

“If it helps you sleep at night, then… believe so” Aemond shrugs, looking down at her. She wasn’t aware when they got too close, to the extent that she could practically hear his scent and hear his breathing. 

Aemond was gallardly handsome, in a different way than she thought Jacaerys was. She always met handsome men in search of her favour, just for after it, having to console Luke about it, that she wasn’t going to entertain the idea of any potential lovers. They were promised to each other since they were children, and she knew that. Is not that she hates him, she is just.. Used to him. To know that in their marriage, she will provide heirs. 

She often thinks that they married her to him because they want to assure Velaryon blood on Driftmark, the one in her blood that lacks his.

“Why doesn’t your father care of giving you a proper dragon rather than to marry you?”

“I will ride Vhagar soon enough” her stubborn voice comes, as if it was a threat that only used to amuse him even more, as his chest inflates and he smirks widens. 

“You imagine such a silly thing, cousin, but again, if it helps you sleep at night… Who am I to judge?” he says, smugly as he smirks. “Though I do not need to imagine a better life, for I am not the future breed mare of a bastard”

Rhaena opens her eyes in disgust at his lewdness, boldness and open rude comment. She feels enraged, being seen just like that. Like an animal to breed, and later to be discarded, put aside as if nothing. 

Rhaena moves her hand to slap him across his cheek, a loud smack on his right cheek that didn’t even move his face away. If anything, it hurt her wrist to do that, yet she hoped her gold rings could do some damage. 

His face barely moves, and his lips curl into an amused smile as he feels the stinging slap on her face. His only eye turns to her, and before she can move her hand down, he grabs her wrist.

Even if she pulls, his grip is strong, and makes her arm go stiff. She tries to pull away, but he pulls her into his chest abruptly, to lower his head and capture her lips on a forceful kiss. Her chest is pressed against his, and she is certainly sure he is stepping on her dress. His other hand moves to the lower part of her back, forcing her to be still as he kisses her. 

She hasn’t kissed anyone, just a stable boy once, but just because Baela dared her to once, but she never counted that. Still, she doesn’t know if a kiss should feel so messy as Aemond kisses her. She never thought she’d enjoy a kiss with someone who calls her a whore. 

Aemond drags her as if she doesn’t weigh a thing, holding her by the wrist and making her legs follow his long steps to an isolated, dark place of the keep. She guesses that Aemond would know each little corner of his own home.  

She doesn’t exactly know what his weird little room is, but Aemond closes the door, and he kisses her again, deeply, as if he needed her as the air he breathes. 

“Married to a Lord” He scoffs between kisses, as his hands grip her waist. “You deserve to be a real Targaryen princess…” he trails off as he moves to kiss her neck, and she whimpers softly. 

She is not sure that he knows that his wife won’t be a princess, but the thought of him wanting to give her everything he has to offer is rather… oddly sweet. 

Rhaena feels his lips lowering to her breasts, and she has to blush at the lewdness, the debauchery of it. She wasn’t the most devoted follower to the faith, yet she feels embarrassed by those feelings, new, lustful feelings. She might pray for forgiveness later.

Aemond is rarely tender, she thinks. She thought he would be… forceful. But he holds her as if she is porcelain.  

Tender, but hungry. There is a certain pull to him; like an invisible string that held him back, but a burning desire within to give in to his whims. He looks up at her; as if for a moment to take in her features, as if trying to look some sort of disgust in her face. 

It is her who kisses him back, as he presses her against one of the wood tables around the room, and she holds his jaw with her both hands, her long nails softly scratching the begging of his jaw. She didn’t know how to kiss as passionately as he did, but she did her best. 

He appreciates the kiss, as his hands move to slowly pull up softly her dress, accommodating between her legs, too close as her pink dress gets pulled up and her breath gets stuck on her throat as she pulls back to watch him. He looked at her, as she could feel his hardness pressing insistently on her clothed pussy. 

“Aemond-”

“Indulge me” he says, in a raspy tone. 

It is not a plea, to her it sounded as if he is asking for permission to keep going, but before she can process the question, or answer it, he just kisses her again, moving his hands in her undergarments, up to her thigh more and more. He asked for permission or just informed her? She didn’t know, but it prepared her for whatever he wanted.

“Too good to be the breed of a bastard” he murmurs against his lips, before he accommodates her atop of the wood table, and he kneels in front of her. 

“Aemond-” 

He doesn’t seem to hear her, and if he does, he truly doesn’t care. 

She tries to move the skirts of her dress to look at him, trying to move the fabric, which she regrets using such a puffy dress. She feels his cold hands moving her underpants, and when she can see his face between all of her skirts, he just leans in to taste her pussy.

The gasp that leaves her mouth sounds more like a sob and she tries to not fall as she sits on the edge, and her hands grip the edge as Aemond moves his tongue all the way up, devouring her, taking in her taste on his wicked tongue.

“Divine” he murmurs against her cunt, diving his tongue into her again.

She squirms slightly, her body accepting the foreign touch, but she was not used to it. It was overwhelming, in a sense. She didn’t know what to do with herself.

“Aemond…” she repeats her name again, she can’t possibly form another word.

“What? Can’t handle a little oral from your cousin?” he murmurs, and she can practically hear the smirk on his lips, as if this amused him greatly. “To think that all knights fight for your favour, yet here you are… with me…” he murmurs, with certain pride for acquiring such a price for himself. 

He was possessive about something he did not possess, since Rhaena was promised long before she could even think. 

“You are so…” She tries to say, but his tongue swipes across her clit, long and flat, and so thorough. He loved how easily he could rile her up, how quickly he could push her to the edge.

As his left hand, holding her thigh apart from the other, his right hand found her entrance as he pulled his mouth back a bit, shoving two fingers inside her cunt at once, pumping them in and out, as he licked her clit. He cared not if she liked it or not, because he knew she would. 

She had to bite her hand to stop the moans, little whimpers reached his ears, which was nothing but a delight. 

His fingers began to move in a steady, driving rhythm, and he licked at her pussy with slow, broad strokes. His fingers curled inside her, seeking that velvety spot that would make her little whimpers turn into scandalous moans. 

“Aemond, stop it, I think I-” Rhaena says, as the boiling feeling in her abdomen starts to make her legs try to close shut, because her cunt was receiving so much stimulation that she was starting to moan louder and more desperate for a something she was yet to experimentate. 

He does not, because he knows what she does not; he knows how close she is to cum, to soak his mouth and he would delight himself in her taste even after she came hard on his tongue. He holds her in place, caring not if she squeezes his head between her legs, because he will not stop until she cums. 

He hears her loud moans, that she tries to hide covering her mouth, her legs tremble, and he knows that she is feeling overwhelmed. She hears the little curse she says as she cums, hard on his mouth. To be fair, he has known women who cum a lot, but Rhaena… She was a new found delight of his.

“Hm, who would have said you were a squirter?” He murmurs, his face shines with the wetness, and she has to look away due to the lewdness. Good gods, what has she done? “Next time you’ll cum in my cock”

–

Those words are impregnated in her brain as she sits across the other end of the table at supper. She was beside Lucerys, as he chats with Jace, but she was drinking wine and sharing soft spoken talks with her stepmother. 

Lucerys had kindness in him, true. He was.. Nice. But not… appealing to her. He tended to be like a child, and she cringed a bit at that; they were old now, at marrying age, and one had to leave the child-like reassurance in the past. And Lucerys did not.

“He is looking at me” Lucerys says in a murmur to her, which makes Rhaena look at him, out of her thoughts.

“Hm?”

“Aemond”

Rhaena blinks a bit, her legs squeezing together at the name. She longed for his wicked tongue lapping her folds again. 

She turns her head to watch him, in front, at the other end of the long table at the family supper. He had no expression on his face, as if one of boredom and annoyance. When her eyes meet his, she notices the slight clench on his jaw.

“He is not” she says. Imbecile. She thinks, resenting him a bit. How can he be so clueless?

He is looking at me. She wants to say, smugly even, something so unlike her. Her heart beats fast as she swallows the fact. He was looking at her. 

Hearing Lucerys giggles as the pig is served, gets her clueless a bit, but she remembers the story they told her; the pink dread. That’s why Aemond said that night  ‘Maybe your cousins can find you a pig to ride’ 

It stirred her wrong. The same boy who mocked a Targaryen prince about not having a dragon, many times until he stood up to them, was about to marry her… a dragonless Targaryen. 

Lucerys never treated her wrong, Rhaenyra raised her boys right. But it made her uncomfortable, thinking about it. She resented him, for being able to do things, to choose, to ride a dragon, when he was… not worthy. 

The rest of the dinner is a blurry image, Aemond mocking her stepbrothers, and Jace trying to defend them. Jace was dreamy, she thought, he was everything a lady like her would like. But Aemond? The bones of her needed him, and just by having one taste of him, and not him whole. 

She hated herself for it. For resenting Luke, for wanting Aemond. As she walked on the halls, after her father sent them to bed, Baela went to Jacaerys, but she didn’t want to go to Luke. Why couldn’t she be like before? She accepted her fate, she is okay with it. Now it looks… like crumbs from what she could have.  

“Rhaena” It’s Aemond’s voice, from the end of the stairs. She turns, and walks closer, frowning a bit. Her chambers were not on the same floor of those in the royal family, she was merely an extension of it.

“Prince Aemond”

He smirks, his chest almost inflates with delight at her words. 

“I suppose you had a nice supper?”

“You were unnecessarily cruel” She states, still defending them in the kindness of her heart. 

“One of my many charming traits.” He was shrugging to it, as his hand wraps her wrists. “Come on.”

She finds herself again being dragged to his chambers, and no guards are close to the hall of his rooms.  Weird she thinks. 

He closes the door of his chambers, which seem cold and uninviting to her, as if no one ever lived here. She can see his bed on one side, and the lonely récamier next to the fire, as he guided her quickly to sit there, not allowing her a peak of his full chambers. 

“I have a surprise for you.” He says softly, a small smirk as he moves to serve her a cup of wine on the table. Her head tilts, not understanding a bit. “It’s more like a… proof of my loyalty.”

Rhaena frowns, what could he even give her? Jewels? Dresses? She takes the cup he gives her, and he goes back to serve himself another. She looks at the other side of the room, thinking about what kind of gift Aemond could give…

“Lucerys” She says, standing up immediately, her voice surprised, and her heart balls to her stomach, as she sees her betrothed, tied to a chair, and his mouth muffled as he tries to move the unmovable chair. 

He doesn’t seem hurt, or bleeding, just desperate to get out of the chair.

“Aemond, why would you do such a thing?” She cries, as she leaves her cup somewhere to be quick to untie him. 

“I told you” Aemond says, grabbing her elbow, and not allowing her to help him. “A gift”

Rhaena feels distressed, she looks at the dagger on Aemond���s waist, little dragon details full of sapphires, very sharp and very much him. She hesitates, and she fears that he’ll take his debt, an eye for an eye. Lucerys is at his mercy, and she wouldn’t be able to fight against him, she knows it. 

“Aemond, this is madness. Untie him” she says, her voice kind, and even if she resents the boy, she loves him, as a brother. “He has done…” She stops herself before finishing, because saying that ‘he has done nothing wrong’ would throw Aemond into madness. “Take it out on me”

Aemond raises his eyebrow. Lucerys’ voice comes as a muffled scream, but she doesn’t care.

“I was there too. I have the blood of the dragon, and Velaryon blood too…” She says, standing up for him. 

Aemond looks at her, and he walks closer. She can hear Lucerys’ sounds coming out as desperate, as if he was afraid that he will harm her. But she knows better than him. 

“Silly girl” He says smirking, patronisingly to her. “You really don’t have a clue of the world..”

Rhaena stands still, looking at her as she blinks a bit confused. She clenches her fists, and she follows him as he sits on the récamier, standing in front of him. Surely, she daydreamed about him? Yes. Did she want him to ravish her and fuck her? Surely. Did she hope that he’ll steal her away from a betrothal that by the passing second seems dreadful? No doubts. But to make Lucerys suffer from it… she was far too kind and sweet to do so.

“Stop this madness” She tries to plead with him.

“Madness? Perhaps” Aemond says as he takes his coat off, and he grabs his dagger, pointing it to her, as he sits calmly. “But also intensely pleasurable. For me, at least” He shrugs, and smirks. “Take off your underpants” 

Rhaena is taken aback, as she steps back looking at him. She turns to watch Luke, who shakes his head from side to side, as Aemond moves his dagger to press it against the fabric of her dress. 

“It is not a petition” He hurries her. 

Rhaena looks at the dagger. “But don’t damage my dress” she says moving back, as she leans to fetch the end of her dress to take her under pants off. It amuses Aemond greatly how she cares for such womanly things as dresses. It is endearing. 

Rhaena extends to him her underpants, and he inspects them, smirking. He stands up, and moves to Lucerys, smugly. “She is truly a vixen.” He says, leaving the underpants on his lap. “You had her hidden, not so well, hm?”

Rhaena feels embarrassed, and more ashamed because it turns her on. It was a torture to her, between duty and her most hidden desires. Lucerys was the boy she was promised to, but Aemond was the man she craved. 

“You won’t hurt him?” She asks as he sits back, and he sighs, moving to undo his breeches. 

“I’ll spare him… for now. Won’t hurt him, physically, at least.” He says grabbing her waist and his other hand moving to her skirts to pull them up. “I’ll just make him watch as I take what’s mine. How a true dragon takes what they want.” He says smugly, forcing her to sit on his lap, her back pressed against his chest as he moves his breeches for his cock to be free. 

He slides his hands, taking the edge of her dress to push it all the way up to her waist, in which Rhaena has to grab his knees so as not to fall. He has the same idea, as with one hand he holds her skirts up, and the other moves to spread her legs apart, revealing her glistening cunt to the onlooker. 

“Isn’t her cunt so…” Aemond trails off, and Rhaena understands what he is doing, showing her intimacy to Luke as if mocking him for having what he doesn’t. 

“Aemond” Rhaena murmurs in a whine, embarrassed as she tries to press her legs together, shy to be seen so exposed. 

The oldest prince grins at her embarrassment, leaning to kiss the side of her neck. “Shy, cousin? Don’t be, you are beautiful… enough to arouse anyone just with a look” he says amused, his voice almost a low purr. He glances at Lucerys, his chin pressing on her left shoulder, and he glances over at the bulge growing on his pants. Pathetic, he thinks. “Just like it does to him, no doubt. Watching you like this must be quite… stimulating.” He trails off, letting his fingers  down on her body, to her cunt. 

He savoured Rhaena’s discomfort, and the Strong’s arousal. He leaves soft kisses on her neck, and exposed shoulder, as he moves her body to his delight.

“Your maidenhood..” He murmurs, looking at her “Shall be mine”

The feel of Aemond’s cock sliding on her cunt is a slight discomfort at the beginning, as she was not used to feeling something pushing insistently inside. She is wet, and her mouth falls open as she has to shut her eyes, wanton sounds leaving her.

“Fucking you right in front of him. While he watches and wishes he could be in my place” He says smugly, his voice tense due to the way her cunt clenched around his cock inside, as if she was made to take him in every way. “You take my cock like the good girl you are.”

It was mortifying for her first time being in front of her betrothed, instead with him, on her wedding night, with him as her husband, not as a viewer. She opens her eyes to look at him ,and she cannot understand his face. He is somewhat mortified, panting as he still fights against the bounds. She can see the erection on his pants, and she feels ashamed. But the feeling does not last long as Aemond’s cock is thrusting in her insides and forcing her to leave the shame away, replacing it with pure lust. 

The thick length of his cock grinds deliciously in her walls, Aemond loves the feeling of her cunt just trying to milk him, as she moans loudly, for the bastard to hear. He holds both of her wrists on her back making her bounce on his cock to fuck herself. He smiles, her dress surely would be wrinkled, and he takes the chance to slap her ass as he turns his gaze down to watch his dick disappearing on her cunt. 

“Watch closely, Strong. This is what a real man looks like. This is what it means to truly claim a woman” Aemond smirks, as his cock went in and out of her, his cock slick with her juices. “See how hard he is from watching us. Knowing that if you truly liked him, your maidenhood would have been his. But it is not, and you won’t be his”

There is a certain air to Aemond that Rhaena craves. She finds herself nodding along with every word he says, his cock inside barely leaves her any room to think. She just needs him, deeper, harder, more and more.

“You will cum, pretty girl?” Aemond asks softly, voice more tender when referring to her. He loved to praise her, he realised. She was such a pretty thing to admire, it was inevitable. He reached around to rub Rhaena’s clit, his thumb rolling the sensitive nub as he pushed his cock deep into her cunt. “Cum all over yourself, darling”

Maybe it’s the endearing name or the overwhelming sensation of his cock so deep,slamming against her cervix and his balls smacking against her ass, but she moans wantonly as she cums, her purple eyes rolling back in her head as her orgasm hit,  the sweat on her body makes her feel more overwhelmed, and spilling her release all over his thrusting cock. 

“Take it, fucking take it…” He groans at the sensation of her tight cunt clenching around his cock, using her pleasure to spur himself on. “Such a good girl…” 

Aemond buries himself to the hilt inside Rhaena, his cock pulsing as he pours his seed deep into her womb. He smirks to himself, as his forehead rests against her back as they pant, the Strong bastard long forgotten by both. 

As his softening cock slips out of her used cunt, he knows one thing; she is his now. He puts his cock back to his pants, and he finishes the last remnants of the wine, leaving Rhaena panting on the chair. 

He watches his pathetic nephew, still struggling against his restraints, and gazing at Rhaena, as if wanting to check her security. Aemond rolls his eye before taking his dagger once again, which makes the little shit struggle even more. 

If Aemond wanted his eye, he would have got it before Rhaena came in. He instead cuts the bounds and grabs the neck of his shirt, pulling him to walk out the door as he takes off the restraint on his mouth. 

“You will— Regret this” Lucerys says panting, trying to gain his composure as Aemond pushes him out of his chambers.

“Yeah, yeah, I surely will, bastard” He says patronisingly, kicking him out of his chambers. “Deal with your pathetic cock first” He added before closing the door on his face.

He is quick to return to Rhaena’s side, holding her into his arms as he lays in the récamier, with her cuddling atop of him. 

“I didn’t ruin your dress…” He murmurs, and she faintly smiles. 

“Thank you” Rhaena murmurs softly. 

Aemond hesitates, his hand caressing her back. He is not good with words, never has been.

“You can… stay” He says softly. “Vhagar is big enough for both” He adds “And she puts eggs from time to time, and… One of her eggs can be yours” He says softly “Like your sister has Moondancer from Vhagar, maybe another egg will be for you…” 

Rhaena looks at him, and is a bit confused by his change of demeanour. “Thank you” she murmurs softly, nuzzling to his embrace. “For caring”

“I know how it feels” he adds quietly, still caressing her back. “To be trapped too”

Rhaena hesitates a bit, not sure if to reveal her heart’s secrets to him, but at this moment, when Luke is probably snitching on them, she trusts in him. 

“I just… They are good boys. But… Driftmark… and such… Baela would be an excellent lady. She was born to do that.”

Aemond nods softly “And you?”

“I am not worthy in my father’s eyes.”

He can sense Rhaena’s loneliness and he hugs her tighter. “You are more than worthy to me. Perhaps, and only perhaps, I will die very soon to leave Vhagar to you”

Rhaena chuckles a bit, and she looks at him with her soft, tender purple eyes. “Don’t. Tomorrow you and I will ride on her, go to Oldtown and escape from our families. My father will be absolutely mad”

Aemond smirks at the prospect, and he takes the challenge.

“I hope your silly dresses don’t take too much space” He jokes, and she giggles a bit. 

They talk for a bit more, Rhaena feels exhausted, but she forces her eyes to stay open and listen to Aemond respond to her questions. After some time, he insists on getting up, and at least for her to have a decent nightgown if she was sleeping around here. 

The banging on his door makes him know who it is. 

“Open the door, you one-eyed bastard!” It’s Daemon's voice, which Aemond feels not so bothered about.

“We can leave through the passageway if you want” He says to Rhaena, while she shakes her head, she has to face her fears.

She walks silent, as she hears the voices of her family on the other side, and she opens the door all by herself. She watches his father, as if he was ready to depart King’s landing, alongside with Rhaenyra wearing her coat, and Lucerys behind her. 

“Are you okay, Rhaena?” Rhaenyra asks, but Daemon interrupts her.

“I am going to kill him-”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Rhaena says softly, looking at the three of them. “I am fine”

Aemond walks behind her, and smirks. “Sister. Uncle, nephew. Don’t you want to enter?” He asks mockingly, crossing his arms.

Daemon seems furious, but Rhaenyra stops her, trying to calm her husband from killing Aemond.

“What has gotten into you?” Daemon asks, “Giving yourself as if-”

“Daemon” Rhaenyra stops him, trying to hold him back, and Lucerys looks at Rhaena, with… something she can’t decipher. Disappointment? Disgusted? She can’t understand the face, and it shames her a bit to hurt him like that, but it’s not like she regrets it. 

“He forced her” Lucerys corrected Daemon, still defending Rhaena’s honour. “I saw it”

Rhaena cringes, and she can see that so does Rhaenyra. She bites her lower lip as if considering her words, before speaking up again “He didn’t force me to anything.”

Rhaenyra looks at her, and she tries to get the best of the situation. Daemon seems more upset, but Rhaenyra shushes him.

“Well, we can always go back to Drag-”

“I’d say she rather enjoyed it” Aemond speaks up in a smug tone. 

The four of them turn to look at him, as he so smugly shrugs. 

“You bastard!” Daemon says before jumping to hit Aemond in the face, which the younger prince takes no interest in fighting, despises the hard hits on his face.

It’s Rhaenyra with the help of Arryk that helps them to separate (or to separate Daemon from Aemond), as she reprimands him for making the situation much worse. No one else about Aemond and Rhaena’s affair, and he was taking out any mean to talk them out of it, to remind Rhaena of her duties as a future bride to Lucerys, instead, Daemon entertains the amusement in which Aemond seems to relish himself into into torturing them all.

“You will marry Lucerys Velaryon” Daemon tells her daughter, pointing his index finger at her, not leaving room for her to protest. 

“I challenge prince Lucerys Velaryon to a duel, then” Aemond says, standing up with no problem, despising his bloody cheekbone. “For Lady Rhaena Targaryen’s hand in marriage”

Rhaenyra’s face is pale, out of any colour that she might have, and so does Lucerys. Rhaena looks at him, shaking her head. Sure, she wanted to get out of the betrothal, but to murder Lucerys? She won’t be part of it.

“Aemond, don’t”

“I’ll kill you before you put another finger on my daughter”

“Gladly, uncle. Only after I kill the little lord Strong”

"Do you dare to duel for my daughter's hand with her betrothed? What kind of-"

"Didn't you do the same with mum? You killed her betrothed in a duel" Rhaena says frowning, and Daemon gets quiet to that.

Rhaenyra looks at Lucerys, horrified at the prospect of it. He doesn’t seem particularly thrilled or prepared for it either, and there was nothing he could do to possibly win in a duel with Aemond. 

Rhaena tries to make Aemond understand the reason, to do anything but.

“Just break the betrothal” Rhaena says to Rhaenyra. “I am not a maiden, and Aemond will take me as his.”

Aemond sees the face of his half sister, she finds herself in an impossible situation. He turns to the little bastard pup, shitting himself behind his mum, unable to do any harm to him ever again, and he will make sure of it. That it hurts once he stabs him in the eye. 

Her sweet Rhaena has such a pure heart, and his hand finds her to feel the warmth of her kindness, that he sometimes lacks. But they'll manage, he knows that.

[spacerockfloater]

Why the fuck does Laena Velaryon, who is canonically younger than Rhaenyra Targaryen in the show, look like a fucking 20-year-old in episode 5 while Rhaenyra, her elder, still looks fucking 13? Why the actual fuck did they change the YOUNGER girl’s actress and made her look older, but it’s okay for Rhaenyra to continue looking like a preteen? I’ll tell you why.

They’re trying to distract us from the fact that creepy ass Daemon is courting a 14-year-old. A FOURTEEN YEAR OLD. Rhaenyra is 15 in episode 1 and Laena is 12, meaning they have a 3 year age gap. Then, Viserys tells Rhaenyra that she must marry since she’s 17 now, making Laena 14, maybe 15 at best. So they obviously can’t afford having Daemon thirst over a child again, therefore this is a shitty attempt to cover up the fact that Laena still is a very fucking young child.

HBO what is this? Why do your casting choices indicate that you’re trying to use some kind of ageist technique to manipulate your viewers? Why are the supposedly good guys, Rhaenyra and her children, portrayed by very young actors? Is this to show how innocent and pure they are? Why are the characters who are supposedly evil, Aegon and Aemond, or the character for whom we shouldn’t worry too much about since she’s just a tool for Daemon’s story line to develop, Laena, portrayed by obviously older actors even though they’re all supposed to be kids? Because the youth = good people and old = bad people analogy is fucking gross and lowkey paedophilic. Not to mention how weird it is to make all the black girls in the show look like fucking grown ups. What kind of racist bullshit is this?

I can’t understand HBO’s decisionmaking for the love of me. Like, on the one hand, it’s so obvious that they’re forcing Daemon and Rhaenyra down our throats, to the point that I actually laughed out loud when the show runner said “he doesn’t get why people like Daemon”. Like, my guy, you MADE the show. You made him look like an appealing, dangerous, sexy, strong, victorious and mysterious man, so what do you mean you don’t get the appeal? On the other hand though, most of the actions that they allow Daemon to perform are so horrifying that it makes it impossible for a sane person to stand beside him and defend him. Like, they try to sugarcoat that he’s an abusive piece of shit yeah, but they somehow don’t shy away from the fact that he’s terrible? Are they doing both of these things on purpose? Are they trying to challenge the viewer, to show us how abusers, despite being openly deranged, still have their way of dazzling their victims, the average person, and hypnotising them with their charm? Is Daemon doing to us (and by us I mean you Daemon stans, not me, stay safe though) what he’s doing to Rhaenyra and Laena? Are the show producers testing the average viewer’s intelligence and ability to recognise an abuser? Will there be a lesson to be learned?

I would like to hope so but I highly doubt it, because while one could support this theory by arguing that changing Laena’s actress is an attempt to mask Daemon’s degenerative nature a bit so that it isn’t completely obvious that he’s a bad man, someone else could counter this argument by saying that we’ve already seen Daemon groom a minor so this wouldn’t be something new. We’ve seen him do much more violent crimes actually, so why shy away from the fact he’s a groomer when we are already aware of this? Idk man, I really want to think that HBO is trying to make us see that Daemon is an evil person, but then indirectly glorifying him constantly makes me believe they just want people to root for him.

P.S. I may anger a lot of people by saying this, so I’ll make myself clear by stating that I love and greatly respect actors who specialise in portraying evil characters, because doing so and not losing yourself is a challenge (*cough* Leto *cough*) but if done correctly, it’s a true showcase of one’s talent and hard work. Lee, De Niro, Hopkins, Bardem and Rickman are just a few to name. However, Matt Smith has never rubbed me the right way. No hate to the guy, I don’t even know him, but I’ve seen him play the villain in three separate occasions (HOTD, Last Night in Soho, Morbius) and I just get these weird vibes, but I usually told myself it’s just my imagination running wild. However, I recently found out that Smith claimed that Daemon is a loyal man who loves deeply and that his “heir for a day” brothel feast was his way of honouring Aema, which really disturbed me for obvious reasons. I don’t know if he said this because he’s trying to defend his character and by extension himself, or if he just wants to promote the show, or if he doesn’t understand Daemon or if he funnily enough has fallen victim to his own character’s charm and I don’t care because it is a dangerous thing to say. Painting this character, the arrogant, obnoxious, self serving, people slaughtering, wife murdering, backstabbing, abusing, grooming, lying, manipulating, war criminal of a man, in such a positive light while being a man yourself, knowing that most of this character’s supporters are young impressionable women who just find him hot, makes me lowkey wanna cover my drink in his presence, I don’t know.

[vidavalor]

Thank you so much for all your wonderful metas - I enjoy them a great deal. I hope I am not going over old ground here, but I have just finished your defence of Aziraphale's choice (which I agree with 100%) and it has prompted me to ask your opinion of the following:

Having witnessed the Metatron impose upon Aziraphale's good will and impeccable manners and endless sense of obligation with a sodding coffee, WHY did Crowley allow the angel to leave with this wily, manipulative being?

Now, admittedly, Crowley did get to his feet and follow them briefly (after being on the receiving end of that terrifyingly pointed glare from the Metatron) but is immediately distracted by Muriel and thoughts of breakfast with Aziraphale.

This is the same demon who is never still. Always wary, always on guard, always patrolling. Yet, after that ridiculous coffee conversation, after Aziraphale looks to him for direction ("Ummm.."), after that glare, he just waves the angel off on his way for a chinwag.

I actually wrote the scene out so that I could "see" it differently, but it did not help me come to any conclusions.

I would LOVE to know what you think.

Sorry. I wittered on a bit there. 😊

Hi @vernajarrett 💕 Thanks for reading & asking! I'm happy to chat about what I think is going on in the moment Crowley acts like a pod person and Derek Jacobi's character gets all that Big Damn Villain Music in the score. I've got the coffee brewing. Oat milk and a dash hefty jigger of almond syrup? 😜

To answer why Crowley is acting so massively weird during the part of 2.06 that you mentioned, we have to start a little before it with the arrival of the last visitor to the bookshop in S2:

a character played by Derek Jacobi:

When the last new character to arrive at the bookshop door in S2 first arrives, we are down to six other characters in the shop. Five of them-- Aziraphale, Muriel, Michael, Uriel and Saraqael-- are angels and the sixth character-- Crowley-- is a demon. Upon the arrival of Derek Jacobi's character, all five of the angels fail to recognize this person. This is a true shock to us because we think we know who this is, right? That's The Metatron.

We know what The Metatron looks like; we've seen his head quite dramatically huge and in our face on several occasions. We feel qualified to say that if Sir Derek Jacobi shows up it must mean that we're looking at The Metatron. What we tend to ignore is... well, everything else that happens here lol... all of which says we are incorrect about this.

First off? All of this is just (entertainingly) weird: The Metatron is a floating head who thinks himself above humanity but he's here now in a body on Whickber Street. He abhors food but he's stopped to get a coffee at the shop and have a chat with Nina. We first spotted him outside by Mrs. Sandwich in line-- is there a more incongruous place you would expect to see The Metatron than that? lol. It makes it very engaging to watch but these are also the first clues to suggest that something really odd is afoot here and when this character goes inside the bookshop, we really get that sense hammered home by the fact that this being we thought we had correctly identified really easily is unrecognizable-- to not one, not two, but five characters on our show, all of whom should instantly know exactly who this person is.

It's at this point that I'll mention that we technically still do not know who plays Satan on Good Omens. The first time he appears, he possesses Crowley by speaking to him using the voice of Freddie Mercury-- so, Satan is being played by a voice actor doing Satan-as-Freddie-Mercury. The second time he appears-- in 1.06-- he there for Adam, who is eleven years old at the time. Satan appears as a gigantic, cartoonish, cliched-red-with-horns-and-hoofs monster, voiced by Benedict Cumberbatch. It is completely at odds with how GO usually does its more horrific and frightening elements. You could argue that Satan appears this way in 1.06 because it's how he would appear to Adam-- to an eleven year old boy. Everyone sees Satan as Adam sees Satan when Satan comes for Adam. A parallel to that would then be the arrival of the character played by Derek Jacobi in 2.06.

Why can't these five angels identify the person who just arrived?

It has to be because they're angels. It's the only thing Aziraphale, Michael, Uriel, Muriel and Saraqael all have in common.

They can't recognize the being at the door because they're angels; meaning: they're not familiars of The Devil.

This is not The Metatron. This is Satan:

You might notice that one of the angels-- Saraqael-- eventually catches on. What they do is another huge clue to who this is. If Saraqael's realization was that this must be The Metatron, they would have spoken up and said that they recognized him, if only to suck up to the boss. But they do not so that is not their realization...

Instead, they don't say a word. They look afraid, look Up, fold their hands together and start to pray. Since this being is obviously one of them and not human-- based on what he said to Michael upon his arrival-- Saraqael has figured out that if they, Michael, Uriel, Muriel and Aziraphale all cannot recognize him, it has to be because this is Satan.

Saraqael doesn't tell anyone else what they've figured out. They just start praying in case it's their number that's up today. The irony of all of this, of course, is that three of these angels who can't recognize the face of evil-- Michael, Uriel and Saraqael-- are honestly pretty garbage people themselves and also that there's not much of a difference in level of evil between The Metatron and Satan. But, technically, Michael, Uriel and Saraqael are angels, just as Muriel and Aziraphale are angels. All it really means in this case, though, is that they've never been thrown to Hell and, because of that fact, they cannot recognize Satan. (It also helps to illustrate how being cast to Hell is political and doesn't really have much to do with whether or not you're a terrible person. It's just who has gotten caught while getting in The Metatron's way.)

Demons can recognize Satan, though. The problem is that they also can be possessed by Satan and influenced into not even knowing he's there... which is what starts happening to Crowley upon the arrival of Satan in the bookshop.

Satan can make Crowley's words sound natural and of Crowley's own volition-- and then make it so that Crowley doesn't even remember saying them. This is why Crowley is acting weird when "The Metatron" is in the same room with him in 2.06.

We've seen something like this a bit when Crowley put Sister Mary in a trance so he and Aziraphale could ask her questions back in S1. Sister Mary really looked like she was in a trance and that's because it wasn't really necessary for either Aziraphale or Crowley to instruct her to act any differently. They were the only other ones around and they weren't manipulating Sister Mary's behavior in an attempt to use her to influence other people-- they were only seeking information from her. How she acted when giving them that information wasn't something they were terribly concerned with because it didn't really matter.

When they had all the information they thought she possessed, Aziraphale brought her out of the trance by telling her that she was now awake and had just had a dream of whatever she liked best. As he and Crowley are walking away, we see Sister Mary seem like she just woke up a bit from actual sleep and she looks calm and refreshed-- like she really did just have a dream of whatever she likes best.

In that moment, Sister Mary is unconcerned with the fact that such a thought is completely incongruous with the fact that she is standing, dressed in work clothes, in the hallway of her workplace. She does not remember the two people who were just there asking her questions or what they asked her. She believes she was dreaming because that is what Aziraphale told her to believe had happened.

The point is that while Sister Mary didn't know she had been influenced like this and could not remember what had happened while she was being influenced, the effects of it remained a little afterwards, as she continued to believe what it was she was told while under the influence. Aziraphale's instructions to her were comparatively pretty innocent-- he told her she had a great dream so she continued to believe that to be true. Satan in 2.06, on the other hand, is not telling Crowley that he just had a dream of whatever he likes best.

Satan possesses Crowley from the start of the scene, accounting for Crowley's quiet and stillness in the early moments of it. He not only tells Crowley to identify him as The Metatron to Aziraphale and the other angels but he makes Crowley believe that he is The Metatron for real. He tells him to make it sound natural when he tells the angels who he is so that they will believe it. That's why Crowley doesn't sound like he's in a trance, the way that Sister Mary did in S1.

I want to throw in here something else, too, that's kind of a foreshadowing/paralleling scene to this as well that comes a couple of episodes prior to this one we're talking about and that is... whatever the fuck exactly was happening to Gabriel in the "tempest" scene.

For the record, I do not believe that it was Satan possessing Gabriel in that scene. I actually think it's some witch-related stuff--I swear the voice speaking with him is Anathema-- but I bring it up even though we don't know what this is totally all about yet because it has some paralleling things that we can already see are relevant.

First off? Where Gabriel is when this happens:

He's sitting in Aziraphale's desk chair. I'm not trying to say the chair itself is spooky (though it is as a result of all of this? lol) so much as I'm saying that both Gabriel and Crowley acting weird and taken over while sitting in Aziraphale's desk chair (which is very much symbolizing Aziraphale) is one of the many things reinforcing that Aziraphale is falling because here are these two characters who parallel him the most-- the two, other most important characters in the show, arguably, and the two also living in the bookshop in S2-- and they're both falling victim to darkness while sitting in his chair.

But what I really want to point out here is what happens to Jim after his possession. Watch Gabriel's eyes at the end here:

There are a few seconds more as well in the show when his eyes resettle on Crowley. Gabriel disappears entirely while he's being possessed. He is speaking words that Crowley can hear and that Crowley recognizes as coming from Gabriel's voice... but when Gabriel blinks back into the room and looks at Crowley, he has no idea what just happened.

He doesn't remember what he just said. He isn't aware of the fact that someone was just possessing him. He feels a little disoriented and anxious-- which is also sort of Jim's default state in S2-- but what we and Crowley witnessed him saying? He has no idea about that. Shax shows up outside the bookshop and causes a distraction that keeps us and Crowley and Gabriel from sorting all of this out until S3 but Gabriel's expressions on the other side of his possession indicate that he has no idea where he just was mentally, what he just said or did, or that someone was in his mind. This is another scene emphasizing this aspect of possession on Good Omens-- no matter who is doing the possessing. The exact same effects of possession is what is happening to Crowley in 2.06.

So, Satan uses Crowley to identify him to the others as The Metatron and makes him believe that he is The Metatron to cover up the fact that he's been in his mind. Crowley has no idea that Satan has been in the bookshop. The moment this becomes clear, though, is the first one you mentioned in your ask, which is when Crowley really confirms for us exactly who Derek Jacobi is playing by doing something so wildly out of character that it's almost impossible to justify without considering the idea that he's being possessed:

encouraging Aziraphale to go somewhere alone with who he believes to be The Metatron.

Next time you're watching this scene-- and GO, in general-- look for where the music stops altogether. There are moments in GO when the score just ceases to exist entirely for a period of time so that we can hear the words that are being said without any distractions. I've found that scenes where this is happening are usually pretty pivotal, either from a wordplay perspective or a plot perspective or, often, both. There is basically no music in the whole scene in which "The Metatron" appears to have arrived at the bookshop.

The score disappears upon "The Metatron's" arrival and it only returns with that big bit of organ-y "DUN DUN DUNNN" villain music right at a pivotal point in the scene you're talking about:

The music comes back at exactly the moment that the camera holds on "The Metatron" as he is staring at Crowley. Why here?

They really, really want you to notice this glare that this person played by Derek Jacobi is leveling at Crowley. We already don't trust this character if he is The Metatron and he's been nothing but a dick since he arrived, really-- he used "demon" to refer to Crowley, he called Muriel "dim" (he can rot for that alone), and he was a total prick to Michael and Uriel. As awful as they are, no one should be spoken to like that. No one-- including most of the audience-- sees this as being extra-villain-y because this is just how The Metatron is so it's expected behavior from who we might think this character is.

So, to show us who this really is, they can't just rely on us noticing that he's in a dark coat and tie (why is he in Hell colors?!) or that he brought along a temptation coffee or that he uses language from Mary Poppins ("spit spot") when speaking to the angels. All those are clues, for sure, but the moment the music comes back is when the show is trying to give us the biggest of the clues to who this really is-- when the scene is structured to show us that he is attacking Crowley.

Because this isn't actually The Metatron glaring at Crowley; it is Satan giving Crowley instructions to stay put.

It's why Crowley doesn't follow them afterwards and continues to believe that The Metatron was who was in the bookshop-- even as Aziraphale has figured out who it really is. Look at Aziraphale's response here and you'll see that this is one of the scenes that suggests he is pretty damn sure this is not The Metatron:

Aziraphale's head whips over to "The Metatron" in response to what Crowley said because he knows what the only explanation for that response out of Crowley is. If you are looking at "The Metatron" while Aziraphale is still turning his head, you can see that he's still staring at Crowley because he was instructing him to tell Aziraphale to go and to not come with them. Satan pastes on a fake as fuck smile when Aziraphale looks at him but it's actually too late-- Aziraphale already knows what's going on. He just doesn't want Satan to know he knows.

Aziraphale knows that there's no way in the universe that Crowley-- who was so worried about danger yesterday that he escorted him to, like, Arnold's Music Shop and Mrs. Cheng's restaurant lol-- would ever just chill in the desk chair while Aziraphale went somewhere alone with The Metatron.

Ever.

The Big Damn Villain Music shows up after "The Metatron"'s fake smile to Aziraphale. It is in the exact moment that he looks at Crowley again and finishes the instructions he was giving before Aziraphale turned his head. It's because this is one of the biggest clues to this character's identity-- who can do this to Crowley? Satan.

Based on the scenes that follow, Satan here is telling Crowley something like:

You will not follow us. He will be back soon. Everything is fine. I was never here; I am The Metatron. Aziraphale is not in any danger. Stay where you are.

This scene-- the one highlighted by the music-- where Satan is silently giving Crowley directions is the one most like the time we see Satan possess Crowley in 1.01. It has a similar effect for a moment, which is probably why the music kicks in here as it's the best way to remind the audience of who can do this to Crowley and how.

In that 1.01 moment, there was no one else around and Satan was not possessing Crowley for the purposes of having him speak to influence someone else's behavior. Since he did not need Crowley to speak in the scene, Crowley does not. He is silent and still while Satan speaks in his mind and gives him instructions. We see that Satan can take such full control over Crowley that Crowley is trapped within himself. He can't speak, he can't scream, he can't move-- so, he can't drive the car and his connection to the car is shattered to a point that The Bentley is almost in a head-on collision with a truck. This is our introduction to the level of possession that Satan has over him-- all contrasted with the fact that Crowley is supposed to be on a date with Aziraphale in the sushi restaurant. This is all coming back around in 2.06.

Its return is also foreshadowed by this Shax bit during the bookshop attack... Crowley missing when he's supposed to be safe with Aziraphale and Aziraphale worried that Satan has Crowley because the demons are circling and Shax... who exists to get inside people's heads a bit... as if echoing Aziraphale's thoughts, says:

Shall we send up the sushi?

After all... do we really think that a season that spent all that time on whether or not actual demons (representing a person's inner demons) were going to be able to get into the bookshop (symbolically, Aziraphale, and Crowley & Aziraphale) is going to let those demons into the bookshop and then just... decide Satan is on vacation for the week? Or do we think that it's not coincidental that the offer Aziraphale is presented with also happens to be the one thing in the entire Universe that could ever tempt him to Hell?

Hmm... 😉

Anyway, back for a moment to the scene in 2.06 when Satan influences Crowley into staying behind and telling Aziraphale to go with "The Metatron"... The undersung thing in this scene, imho, is Aziraphale's reaction.

If Aziraphale really believed this to be The Metatron with 100% certainty, he could have responded to what Satan just made Crowley say by pressing this idea of them going for "The Metatron's" proposed stroll. He could have said aloud to Crowley: "why don't you come with us?" or he could have told The Metatron that he didn't want to go for a walk and why didn't they just sit here in the bookshop instead and anything The Metatron wanted to say to him, he could say to him and Crowley together? If Aziraphale really completely believed that this was The Metatron, he could have-- and would have-- tried either of those things or something like them in response to what Satan made Crowley say.

Instead, what does Aziraphale do?

He *immediately* starts for the bookshop door. Why?

Because he knows that Crowley is not speaking of his own free will and that the person he identified as The Metatron is, in all likelihood, actually Satan. Aziraphale immediately starts for the door because Satan will have to follow him out, since he was the one who proposed this stroll. Aziraphale abandons the idea of Crowley coming with them when he sees that Crowley is being harmed. Instead, he goes alone with Satan, immediately luring him out of the shop so as to get him away from Crowley.

He leaves the bookshop with Satan to protect Crowley. It also foreshadows the fact that he's going to fall over a temptation that is related to Crowley's safety.

Look at how Aziraphale looks back to make sure that Satan is following him and quickly... how nervous and shaky he looks. He would be nervous if this were The Metatron, sure, yes, absolutely. In this moment, though, he's just living one of his worst nightmares-- the bookshop that he built that protects Crowley has been overrun and Crowley has been harmed right there in front of him.

This is their house. It's their living room, where Crowley's lounged for thousands of nights. Crowley is in Aziraphale's own desk chair. This is supposed to be the place where they both feel safe but now there is no safe space so Aziraphale is doing the best he can in the moment by just responding intuitively and protectively by saying with his actions: Get away from him. Follow me. You can have me. Leave him alone.

So, they go out, right? What happens next but the other scene you mentioned in your ask: Crowley and Muriel.

Crowley gets up out of the chair basically the second Satan and Aziraphale are no longer in the shop because Satan's hold on him in that moment is gone and he probably unconsciously needs to move, since Satan was literally not letting him get out of the chair. This is where the weird behavior gets even more weird-- Crowley doesn't follow them. He literally watches from within the shop through the window for a second as Aziraphale leads "The Metatron" over to Marguerite's. Why doesn't he go after them? Because Satan told him to stay in the shop. Just like with Sister Mary believing she had been dreaming, what Crowley has been influenced by Satan into doing lingers with him gone, since he was instructed by Satan to stay in the shop until Aziraphale gets back.

Crowley paces a little circle like a caged tiger, going back further *into* the bookshop-- a totally normal response to his partner going for coffee alone with a murderous psychopath. He mutters to himself:

"They'll be back soon."

WHAT. THE...? How is there anybody who thinks this behavior is normal at this point?

Crowley turns around and Muriel is there. He jumps a bit, having forgotten they were still in the shop. So did the audience, honestly. This may or may not be significant in S3. Muriel being there in the background, blending into the walls during this scene also means that Muriel is now maybe the only character who could actually tell Crowley what happened during the scenes we have been talking about here because he doesn't remember anything involving what he said.

If you were to ask Crowley at any point from the time "The Metatron" and Aziraphale leave the shop on in S2 who identified "The Metatron", he couldn't tell you. If you were to tell him he told Aziraphale to go with "The Metatron", he would not remember doing that. He has as much memory of the words he spoke in the scene with "The Metatron" as Gabriel does of his "there will come a tempest" moment-- which is to say, none.

Crowley knows that Aziraphale has gone with The Metatron and that they will be back soon. He doesn't know how that came to pass and he has been rendered by Satan incapable of leaving the shop or considering the idea that he should follow them.

If the being at the door is Satan and if Aziraphale's fall is where we left the end of 2.06, Aziraphale could lose his memory, at least for a time, which means that the only character who was a reliable witness to Satan influencing Crowley in this scene is Muriel. One purpose of having them in the shop during these moments from a writing standpoint-- as opposed to sending them over to Nina's coffee shop earlier-- might be to set up a character in S3 who can tell Crowley what it was that actually happened here. (Lucky Muriel lol.)

As you pointed out, Crowley starts speaking to Muriel casually, as if nothing is going wrong. He tells Muriel that they should leave the shop, too, and Muriel says:

The Metatron-- really: Satan-- did tell Muriel to wait in the shop but he did so just by pretending to be The Metatron. While there's no possession there with Muriel, Muriel's line to Crowley is also emphasizing what actually just happened to Crowley himself to the audience. "The Metatron" has told them both to wait in the shop-- so, they are waiting in the shop. They're both following directions they've been influenced in different ways to follow. By Muriel saying that they've been told to wait-- even if they were told in a different way than Crowley was-- it suggests that following a directive is also the reason why Crowley himself is still in the shop.

Crowley's response to Muriel, though, makes him sound like he's back to himself-- and, in several ways, he is. He is remaining in the shop because of the influence but he is not currently under an active influence so he can say what it is that he chooses to say. When he's a little sarcastic with Muriel, it sounds like his normal speech because it is. What he doesn't understand is that he's been influenced to do the same thing Muriel has been-- to wait there in the shop-- just against his will, as opposed to Muriel's conscious decision to follow the directive.

Here's where we have to consider Crowley's audience when we talk about what he says next. Crowley likes Muriel; of all the angels not named Aziraphale that he's met, Muriel's definitely top of the list. That said... Muriel is still an angel who is desperate to please The Metatron, as they just proved to him again in this scene by being excited to have been singled out to assist who they believe to be The Metatron. Muriel whole thing is that they're an Inspector Constable; they are literally the (supernatural) police and Crowley wisely doesn't trust the police.

Crowley has no doubt that, after Muriel does leave the shop, that they'd tell The Metatron anything he said. Crowley actually does believe that Aziraphale is in big trouble because he doesn't trust The Metatron-- he's just been rendered incapable of realizing that he's staying in the bookshop because he's been instructed to do so by Satan, who is really the person with Aziraphale in that moment. As a result, Crowley's mind has jumped to a plan for when Aziraphale comes back from coffee with whom Crowley believes is The Metatron.

Crowley has no doubt that Aziraphale will come back because he's been influenced to believe this to be true, which is why he keeps saying "they will be back soon" and "when Aziraphale does come back", instead of being terrified that Aziraphale will not come back at all, which is what he normally would have been if Aziraphale were alone with The Metatron. It is, in this case, going to be true that Aziraphale returns because that is part of Satan's plan and one of the reasons why he influenced Crowley into believing so.

So, anyway, Crowley thinks the big threat is The Metatron potentially erasing Aziraphale into non-existence by deleting him from The Book of Life. This isn't actually a thing, as Crowley told Beez back early on in the season, but Beez, being horrified to realize that they might have been manipulated by something they themselves and Crowley made up ages ago, doubled down out of embarrassment on it being real and led Crowley to believe in its existence as a result. Crowley has spent the season terrified that Aziraphale is going to be made to have never existed. The plan he's cooking up to save Aziraphale from that fate-- which is what he thinks is going on-- is not one he wants to share with the police. It's not one he's going to say aloud in front of Muriel because that might as well be saying it to The Metatron, as far as Crowley is concerned. We won't actually hear Crowley's plan until he delivers it to Aziraphale in coded speech in The Disaster Kiss Scene and by that point, everything is going, um, really, really badly.

(It's the reason why there's no music in that moment so you can literally hear the words echo around the room when Crowley starts in on it and basically shouts the "THIS PLANET" part at Aziraphale but that's straying from the scenes you asked about so *focuses* 😊)

So, Crowley instead says what he'd really, truly, honestly love to be doing for the rest of the morning and he does so in the way that he and Aziraphale do when someone who doesn't speak their language is around and annoying them-- he says it in Ineffable Husbands Speak to amuse himself and, probably, to amuse Aziraphale, whom he plans on telling later. (He'll do this again a few minutes later, when Maggie is ticking him off by saying he and Aziraphale don't talk.)

Crowley says:

Does Crowley want a little Us Time with Aziraphale when he comes back? Does he want to go with him to have an extremely alcoholic breakfast at The Ritz? (Ineffable Husbands Speak for boozy brunch and sex after too long without it?) Yes. Eventually. But he knows there's very dangerous trouble to be dealt with first.

Crowley says that because he wants Muriel to think that he is just preoccupied with thoughts of Aziraphale and breakfast-- because that's what he wants The Metatron to think and he knows Muriel will tell The Metatron what it is that he said.

Crowley wants The Metatron to think he doesn't have a plan.

But, really, when we have known Crowley to not have a plan? 😊

The problem is that it's a plan for the wrong scenario.

It's not The Book of Life that's happening; it's Aziraphale's fall.

It's not The Metatron at the door; it's Satan.

This is almost the entire communication mess of That Disaster Kiss Scene. They're being watched and whatever the fuck happened to Crowley, he can't see that freezing time to speak openly is an option so he and Aziraphale are boxed into trying to each convey what they think is happening and their plans to stop it using their cant vocabulary.

The ironic thing is that while they-- like the audience lol-- have two different ideas of who the being watching them is and what the threat is as a result, they actually both have almost exactly the same plan... with one, key, very romantic difference.

But that's another meta. 😜

In the meantime, I'll just leave you with a reminder of what "The Metatron" said in a moment when Crowley was still in the room:

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

Lena Horne (Cabin in the Sky, Stormy Weather)— Incredibly talented biracial actress, singer, dancer, and activist (she did so much work towards integrating audiences). Because of the racism of the era, she rarely got to be the lead actress but filmmakers loved her so much that they would often create stand alone segments within a film to highlight her beautiful singing, knowing that these segments would ultimately be cut from the film by censors in areas that forbid films with Black performers. Also, she's just so wonderful in Cabin in the Sky as a gold-digger villain who is not the least bit subtle about her intentions. I would highly recommend checking out her work.

Ginger Rogers (Swing Time, Top Hat)—Look I’ll level with you, I’ve never seen her in a musical and I know that she’s an amazing dancer and she’ll be even hotter when I finally watch Top Hat but I’m not submitting her as a dancer I’m submitting her as an ACTRESS. Her comic timing is impeccable!!!!! She’s full to bursting with life and in every role she seems to be having FUN, you can practically feel the twinkle in her eye. With her natural warmth it’s like she’s letting you in on the joke, y’all get to have this fun together! Making me laugh is hot!!! [If you'd like to see Ginger dance, videos below the cut]

This is round 3 of the tournament. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage woman.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

Lena Horne:

64.media.tumblr.com

Black American powerhouse singer and actor who faced all the usual bullshit that any BIPOC faced in vintage Hollywood and achieved legendary status anyway. Also a Civil Rights movement icon.

She was a gem

She was so beautiful and those dimples are amazing! Truly depressing how badly Hollywood treated her because she was black. I would love to have seen what she really could have been if they didn’t cast her in so many yikes roles. She’s got gorgeous eyes and that body! Her joyful smile makes happiness sexy!

Civil rights actress, singer, dancer, actress, she's got the whole package

Lena Horne was a wonderful singer and actress who largely starred in black cast musicals. While she had a lot of main stream success, she ultimately lost the lead role in showboat (a role she had played on the stage) to a white actress due to hollywood's prejudices. She was also blacklisted during the HUAC hearings, but she still managed to be hot be hot as fuck and have a career spanning decades, working with more well-known stars like Judy Garland in musicals, and working on stage and releasing albums when her hollywood career began to suffer.

Miss Horne became famous during a period of time when Hollywood had very few meaningful roles for people of color. Although she is more so known as a performer, she starred in two successful all black productions (Cabin in the Sky & Stormy Weather). If that wasn't enough, she also guest starred on the Muppets (Season 1, Episode 11)

Ginger Rogers propaganda:

She needs no introduction! An undeniable powerhouse on the dancefloor, and no less talented an actress. I once watched a compilation of cinema's greatest dance scenes and one of her and Fred Astaire's dances was featured, and one of the talking heads said he pitied her for 'having to keep up with him' - or something to that effect. Bullshit, I cry. Ginger Rogers was his absolute equal, and underplaying her incredible skill is downright criminal. I want the 'Cheek to Cheek' sequence from Top Hat to be permanently burned into my memory.

"Backwards in high heels", as the saying goes (though the pedant in me must point out that she in fact spent her fair share of time leading or dancing side-by-side). One of the earliest twinkle-toed ladies of the silver screen, and in terms of acting/persona, her balance of wide-eyed cuteness and movie-star glamour has never quite been replicated.

we all know her beloved string of musicals with fred but ginger also has an extensive and varied non-fred filmography that she's great in! a few ginger moments that are important 2 me personally ginger singing “we’re in the money” in gold diggers of 1933, complete with a verse in pig latin bc this whole movie is kinda mocking the concept of anyone actually being in the money in 1933; ginger and una merkel singing a verse of “shuffle off to buffalo” in 42nd street, providing some statler & waldorf-esque commentary on newlyweds from the upper berth of a railway car (interesting that belly was apparently a risque word in 1933 - maybe its bc the lyric is innuendo-ing about out of wedlock pregnancies - and that panties was a term for men’s underthings!); a favorite fred & ginger number

Ginger Rogers could do everything! She could sing, dance and act. She was hilarious in comedies, moving in dramatic roles (she won an Oscar for Kitty Foyle in 1940) and absolutely gorgeous!

Listen, no shade to Fred Astaire at all, but she both kept up with him step for step and then later went on to WIN AN OSCAR FOR ACTING. (which he did not.) truly a double threat!!!

One of the best dancers in Hollywood! Her work with Fred Astaire is just incredible.

ONE LINE: "Everything Fred did, Ginger did backwards and in heels" AND THEYRE RIGHT! Rogers was a total dance badass, and a lot of movie buffs know the story, but the Never Gonna Dance number from Swing Time took almost 50 takes, and allegedly by the end of filming it her white shoes had been stained pink because her feet were bleeding. As a note, she looks crazy gorgeous in this number. Watching these two dance is insane. They match up to each other in a way my mom describes as "divine" and she's right. DANCE NUMBERS!

Let's Call The Whole Thing Off (Shall We Dance, 1937, dancing starts at 3:14, they're in ROLLERSKATES)

(Ginger Rogers is the hottest woman ever to live in this number. seeing this as a teenager altered my brain chemistry)

(also watch her feet and how she moves opposite Astaire in this one. We all know our boy Freddie had that precision demon but jesus christ Miss Rogers, let a girl live!)

Pick Yourself Up, Swing Time 1936 (Everyone's seen this one but by god you are going to see it AGAIN!)

Shall We Dance, 1937 (duet begins at 2:34)

Smoke Gets In Your Eyes, Roberta 1935 (There's just something about Ginger Rogers in a slick black dress man)

The Continental, The Gay Divorcee 1934

God she's MAGIC in this one.

Gay Divorcee's Ending Montage 1934

The infamous table and chairs spin happens at about 0:49. Pay CLOSE attention to her in this bc it looks like witchcraft and I feel lightheaded whenever I watch this movie bc shes THAT awesome.

She is a miracle to watch. Sorry for the sheer amount of clips. My entire family is like madly in love with Ginger Rogers.

[misguidedasgardian]

Blurred Lines (2)

2. All in

MASTERLIST

Summary: You don’t know how you got to the point where Jace was just… living there with you… you liked it though

Warnings:  Cursing, cheating, adultery, talks about body shaming, therapy, misogynistic undertones (“man of the house” and whatnot), Harwin is not a good person on this… and Jace isn’t either, implied tampering with birth control, spy cameras, a bit creepiness, alcohol consumption, reader is a bit drunk in some parts, masturbation, fingering, inappropriate relationship, smut, oral sex (m receiving)

Wordcount: 4.9k

Notes: OH MY! things are heating up, I really don’t want to drag this along hehe, I want to just get to the good part

He knew that he had to bid his time, that he needed to draw you in, but as he sneaked a peek at you, he got so tempted…

He had picked a movie called “the boy next door”, in which a separated woman who is going through a divorce, moves to a small town where she starts an affair… with the 20 year old boy next door. You looked away at the very hot sex scene between them

The mom was interpreted by a famous actress, a singer, a hot, mature one.

You were acting so coy, looking away, Jace got painfully hard just by looking at you. You had “made yourself comfortable”, wearing some black cotton leggings that did nothing to hide your delicious thighs and ass. and that sweater too big for you

Now you were curled up on the couch, nursing your beer.

Jace could bet you thought it was hot, that’s why you were so embarrassed, the best part is that he was older than the guy in the movie, and you were way younger than her…

Jace always thought it was creepy how there was a huge age gap between you and Harwin, and a much lesser one between you and him. 

“You didn’t like the movie?”, he asked, making you jump. You laughed coyly

“It’s good”, you muttered, nodding and taking a sip, “a bit kinky Jace”

“Oh right”, he mocked, you were twenty nine, a week shy of turning thirty, you were not an old woman, you were barely getting started 

Why couldn’t you see that?”

He put on his best puppy dog face

“Yeah, it’s awkward”, he muttered, turning towards you, “can I ask you a question?”, he asked, when the actress was whining about her cheating ex-husband

“Yeah”, you said, smiling encouragingly at him

“What happened between you and Harwin?”, Harwin, not dad, he couldn’t have you connecting those dots tonight 

You took a sip of your second beer

“It’s complicated Jacey”, you said softly

“I’m sure you can work it out”, he said dismissively, he was being risky, but he needed to know, he needed to know by your own words what happened, and then he could exploit it 

“I’m not so sure”, you whispered, taking yet another sip of beer, Jace had you exactly where he wanted you

“Why did you kick him out?”, he asked then

“Jace..”

“What did he do that was so bad?”, he said innocently

“Well. we drew apart last year and… well, he was feeling lonely I guess, I was too occupied with Aerea…”, Jace blood was boiling, he couldn’t believe was he was hearing, you were trying to soften the fact that the bastard had cheated on you, only for him to hear, his son

Gods you were so fucking good

So nice

He couldn’t wait to keep you full of his cock, because if you kept that up, you are never going to refuse him once he starts fucking you 

“He felt lonely?”, he couldn’t keep the ruse up for long, “what does that mean?”

“Jace I really don’t want to speak ill of your father”, you whispered 

“He cheated on you, didn’t he?”, he asked, and to you, he was appearing completely heart broken, like he just learned his hero had done something terrible

Jace should be an actor

“Well…”

“What a cunt!”, he cursed

“Jace, he is your father!”, you chided, “he cheated on me, not you”

“How could he?”, he continued, “how could he cheat on you? you are beautiful, smart, funny, hot as hell”

“Jace!”, you said, embarrassed that he would call you that… hot as hell. what a joke

“Why would he?”, he asked again, “he must be insane!”

“Well Jace, my pregnancy wasn’t easy, and women bodies change when they… get pregnant, and after they give birth”, you whispered, remember sadly how Harwin loved to make the baby, but not as much once she was about to be born or already here, when your body started changing 

“You can’t be serious!”, he snapped, “you are blaming yourself?”

“I shouldn’t have told you”, you said, feeling guilty

“I’m glad you did”, he made his play, he placed a hand on your shoulder, and your raised your gaze again to look at him wide-eyed, “he has never stopped disappointing me, this doesn’t surprise me”, he admitted, “but I’m glad I can be here for you”

“Thank you”, you said, smiling softly, he caressed your arm

“He doesn’t deserve you, or Aerea”, he whispered, “come here”, he was all in, you smiled and happily scooched over to his open arms, to hug him

A seemingly kind, warm gesture

“I’m glad you are here Jacey”, you whispered 

“I’m glad to be here to keep you company”, he said against the top of your head, “you deserve better, a man that cares for you, desires you, takes care of your daughter…”

“Thank you Jacey, and I have to say, you and your brothers will always be welcomed in my home”

. . .

Tonight had gone way better than he expected

Through the camera in your room, Jace could you tossing and turning in your bed, it was still hot outside, you were sleeping in these flimsy cotton shorts, and you accommodated yourself placing the sheet between your thighs, you bend your back, popping out your ass

Fuck

He was already hard

He took out his cock, already weeping, and he started squeezing it and stroking

You were right there

Just two rooms over

He could go, open the door, rip your shorts off your body, and fuck you

He know you’d love it, you were so deprived of physical love and affection

He needed to exploit it

He touched himself at the visual of the two of you, when you hugged him over the couch, he imagined you raised your head then, looking up at him with those doe eyes of yours, he imagined grabbing your jaw and devouring you, kissing you hungrily.

He thought about pushing down on your back and him jumping over you, ready to eat you whole, ripped off your clothes and go at it right on the living room

He imagined how tight you would feel around him, as he snapped his hips into you over and over, oh! the sounds you could make, he had to cover your mouth with his big hand, to not wake Aerea

As he looked down at your desperate face, when he finally finds that spot inside you, your eyes would roll off to the back of your head, as he’d feel his hand wet with your saliva, your mouth open in desperation against his palm

Those tits of your, finally released from his prison, would be moving to the rhythm of his thrusts 

His big, fat cock in and out of you as he fucked you as deeply as he could go 

But once he started he would stop there, he would release you, taking himself out of you with no warning, making you whine and cling onto him, begging him for more

He knows he had you then

So he would grab you roughly, he wanted to see your ass now, he would turn you around so you’d be in all fours for him, and he would fuck you again, your round ass there in his grasp… your skin jiggling when the thrusted into you

Fuck

It was embarrassing to admit how fast he cummed, knowing you were just a few feet away from him

. . .

Soon another week ran past, Jace was coming and going from your house to his, now he couldn’t point blankly stay in your place, he had to return to his own home

But he came back… regularly

It was true, at least, the business part. He had invested most of his savings on this enterprise with his friend Cregan Stark, but it was just so perfect to use it for his own benefit

Apparently your interview had also played out, because now you were working, Aerea was in daycare, and Jace was currently on a videochat with his friend and business partner

“Well Jace, normally I would be against my best friend baby trapping some woman but phweet”, he whistled, “she is delicious”

“Isn’t she?”, he purred, he felt so proud of himself, he had sent his friend pictures, boasting about you like you were already his, and you somehow were, in his mind, “She is so fucking naive, and sweet, gods!”

Cregan laughed through the computer 

“Damn, and how do you plan on getting her though”

“Well, the devil’s in the details, I already have access to her place, her daughter…”

“You half sister”, mocked Cregan

“Already calls me dada, and adores me, I’ve already made myself indispensable at her home”, he continued, “she is totally dependant on me to do all the “toughest” things around the house” 

“Good good”, he purred, “so after it is all done.. what are you going to do?”

“Well, our company is going to be up there isn’t it?”

“You plan on moving her here?”

“When we start our relationship…”

“When you knock her up you mean..”

“I don't think she would want to stay here near all the people that know us so…”

“Good”, his friend seemed pleased

He heard you coming in the house then, and Jace got jumpy

“She is here, gotta go..”, he whispered

“Well Jace, good meeting, I’ll send you the details of the first shipment”

“And I will have those sheets for later…”, he said, continuing their conversation from before 

“Great”, you waved at him from behind the counter, and he smiled back, Aerea came rushing in

“DADDY!”, She greeted, and Jace couldn’t be happier, he grabbed her and showed her to Cregan through the camera

“Hi”, greeted Aerea

“And who’s that?”, teased Cregan, “Hello sweetie, she is a sweet little thing, looks like you Jace!”, he said loudly, winking at his friend, Cregan chuckled as you looked surprised

“Doesn’t she?”, he teased

The call was ended short after, and you looked a bit conflicted, Jace could tell 

You didn’t like the fact that Aerea called Jace “daddy”, it wasn’t healthy, your child needed to know, to remember her father, or else she was going to get all confused 

Luckily, Harwin had agreed to take her, the weeks he had his kids, so he could get help from Jace and Luke, and it was easier on him…

Perhaps he wanted some weeks off to see her… or others

Not that you’d care

You start putting some things you bought after work around, and you smiled fakely at Jace as he approached

“Need help with something?”, he asked, he had noticed you ahd bought a couple of bottles of wine, you were going to have the first week to yourself since… forever and a hot bubbly bath with a cup of whine and some strawberries with chocolate sounds like the remedy to all your problems

“It’s fine Jace”, you said softly, “Harwin is picking you both any minute now”, you made him remember 

He looked somewhat disappointed

“Right, this is his first week with Aerea, right?”

“Right”, you smiled

“Actually, I have a bunch of work to do, do you mind if I stay the night again?”, he asked

He was risking it, he thought

You could use some time alone, you thought yourself

But those big eyes of him, made you smile

You had all week

“Sure”, you said, faking another smile, he smiled back at you sincerely.

He didn’t like that fake smile on your face

He could tell he had overplayed it

“I’m gonna keep working…”

“Sure”, you said, you then turned to Aerea, “Let’s get you packed sweety, wanna go to papa?”

The little girl’s face lit up

“PAPA!”, she exclaimed, reaching for you, as you were going to take her to him

“Let’s go darling”, you whispered sweetly 

You felt Jace’s gaze as you walked down the hallway

He growled, frustrating, and he realized he had to change his strategy

He sat back in front of the computer and he finished his work, it didn't take him more than twenty minutes 

When you appeared back, you had a large bag in your hands, and Jace changed his plan right then, he put wavy his computer and gave you a smile

“Turns out I didn't have much work as I thought”, he said, “I’m done, and I should go to my dad’s”, you smiled then sincerely

“That is great,I know that I shouldn’t had said what i said, he is still your father and he loves you and cares for you deeply”, he smiled and nodded

You heard a honk outside

“There’s papa!”, Aerea applauded

Harwin might be a shitty husband, but he was not a shitty dad, Jace had to admit, replacing him was not going to be as easy as he thought

You were nervous as you led your little girl outside, it was going to be the first time you saw Harwin since you split

He walked to the door with a soft smile

“Hey darling”, he said, looking straight at you, and then he turned to Aerea, who jumped into his arms

“Hey”

Jace thought he was going to be happy to witness this debacle, but it wasn’t weird or angry, you were actually smiling tenderly at the fucker

“Jace, you are here”, muttered Harwinm, surprised, “thanks for keeping my girls company”

That was a low blow for everyone there

You stomach sank, but Jace got so angry

He didn’t deserve calling you his 

“We should go”, muttered Jace, grabbing Aerea, and you thanked him for it, to distract her, or else she was going to start crying when she realizes you are not going

You waved him goodbye as they got in the car and drove away

You loved your daughter with all your heart, but Gods if you needed a break from all of this

You had bought like a ton of chocolate, wine, strawberries, your favorite pasta dish, you even went as far as to go to the grocery store and buy yourself those “spa” bundles, that include a candle, a very bubbly soap, a nice soft loofah, and body cream for later

So you did exactly that

You got comfortable, got rid of your clothes, until you were in your underwear (a lacey little thing you had bought to entice Harwin), and you put a soft robe on top, just to cover your modesty. 

You cooked your pasta, with your favorite sauce, you poured some wine in your cup, as you watched from the kitchen your favorite show. And when it was ready.

You ate it with pleasure, congratulated yourself because it was as good as you wanted it, so delicious, very creamy. 

You poured more wine

then you watched some more twenty minutes episodes of your favorite soap opera and THEN… you melted the chocolate, cutted some strawberries, and with a bottle and cup in hand, you went to treat yourself to the bathroom

You filled the tub, you put in the entirety of that bubble bath and you sipped your wine happily until it was full, then you undressed, dropping pieces of clothing anywhere.

Despite what happened with Harwin in the last years, today, you were feeling particularly sexy, perhaps you were ovulating or something.

You undressed like the sexiest man alive was there, watching your every move, and then, you got into the tub, moaning to express the wonderful time you were having, the hot water instantly relaxing your tired body 

Oh shit you forgot the music

No matter.

The warm up for the tub had been so nice that, now you were horny, very horny. 

Your “sexy man” was watching, so you decided to give him a show, you dipped your finger in the chocolate and brought it to your mouth

Immediately the delicious taste invaded you

Your other hand went to one of your breasts, your nipples already hard. Oh fuck you were going to enjoy this

It had been a while since you felt like this… 

Since your baby-making months…

You placed a chocolate covered strawberry in your mouth, and moaned at the taste, and at the feeling of your fingers pinching your nipple softly

You were so horny, your hand traveled down the waters over your belly and you were ready to really treat yourself 

And then, just about when thing were starting to get truly fucking good

You felt the front door opening loudly. You heard a familiar voice calling your name

SHIT! JACE!

You gasped, as it was just down the hall, and the door to the bathroom was wide open, and your underwear was in the hallway, and by the soft candlelights coming from the bathroom…

“WAIT!”, you pleaded, “I’m in the bathroom!”

“I’m sorry!”, he lamented, you heard him getting closer

“Jace, don’t come in please”, you whined, your hand until over your pubis, gods, this was going to be so good.

And yet…

The need didn’t go away being almost being caught

“You good?”, asked Jace, just by the door

“Too good Jacey”, you said, not being able to hide how disappointed you were

“I’m sorry I interrupted you”, he sounded entertained, he had clearly saw your underwear there

“Did something happen?”, you asked

“Harwin and I had a huge fight, I’m so sorry I… should have called you, or gone home, but… the only place I deemed safe is… well… here”

You sighed, loudly

“Jace you caught me in a bad time”, you admitted

Oh he knew exactly what you were doing, and he timed it just perfectly

As you looked at the space of the open door, your breathing quickened

Jace was right there

And that didn't turn you off, it did the opposite

You almost got caught masturbating on the bath by the hottest twenty one year old you had ever seen 

But you shouldn’t, you whined to yourself

And as you looked down at the empty bottle of wine… at everything set up for your pleasure…

But you wanted the real thing

So so badly

You didn't realize though, that your “mental” whine, sounded for a real, a moan that got Jace’s blood rushing to his cock, and that made him take a single step, to watch you -in real life and not on his cellphone-, in that tub

You were looking at him wide eyed, as he had your panties on his fist, the ones from the hallway

“Jace?”, you called, you look like a deer in headlights, you didn’t hide, you didn't shrieked and demanded him to leave 

You just looked at him, with desire on those beautiful eyes of yours. 

Jace growled at the sight of your soapy breasts, peaking over the water, of if he could just take a picture of this moment

You had never been so beautiful

The whole scene looked like a renaissance painting

He grabbed his phone, he couldn’t resist, and snapped a picture

You didn’t even flinched, you even moaned one more time, your chest sticking out 

“You look so fucking gorgeous”, he admired, not being able to act any longer, this was it, it came sooner than expected, but anticipated nonetheless 

“Jace”, you called, but it wasn't accusatory, it was indeed, a call

He walked until he kneeled by the side of the tub

“When I said I was going to help you with whatever you needed, I mean… anything”, he teased with a wide smile.

You rubbed your tights together shamelessly, not trying to hide it, and Jace smirked darkly 

HIs hand disappeared under the water, down your leg and then

You moaned wantonly, like a common whore when a single finger grazed your folds

One touch, and you spread your legs wantonly

How long has it been?

Way too fucking long

“We shouldn’t”, you managed to muster, even though you spread your legs wider like a whore, he only laughed, not believing it for a second

“We shouldn’t… we fucking have to”

He was your stepson

Fuck

You forgot about it pretty quickly when he latched his lips to your, devouring you, taking your breath with only one lock of lips

He fucked you with two fingers, first softly, until you moaned and turned in the tub, asking for more, begging for it.

“You like it when your stepson fingerfucks you?”, he teased

“Yes!”, you admitted, because to you, this was only a dream, this couldn’t be happening, not really.

“Aren’t you a dirty little whore, uh?”, he kept teasing, “fucking men more than a decade older than you, you should be with someone who can keep up with you”

“Someone like you?”, you whined

“Fuck yeah like me”, he said, twisting his fingers until he found what he was looking for, then your eyes did traveled to the back of your head, just like he imagined it

And when you were about to cum…

He released you

“Mmmm why?”, you whined, tears in your eyes

“Because you had been such a tease”, he growled, you are going to beg me to fuck you”, you moaned, “I’ll be waiting for you in your room”, he whispered dangerously, and left the bathroom

Now you could put a stop to this right now, or you could get into your room and get your back blown out just like you needed it

The decision was pretty easy to make

You got out of the tub, dried yourself slowly, not daring to even touch your pussy, then you put on your rob, you could see Jace from the bathroom, he was sitting on the edge of the bed, looking at you with a smirk on his lips

Where was the sweet boy you had met the past few weeks?

Nowhere to be found

And that made it even more easy to do

You walked slowly, teasingly, your eyes on him, his eyes on you

You didn’t even cared to think about the consequences of this actions

You didn’t care

A primal need had taken a hold in your body, and you they were going to get sated

This was the culmination of years of sexual neglect… you didn't even dare to think about how wrong this was…

“Jacey”, you moaned, testing the opening of the robe, “are you sure?”, you knew your body wasn’t perfect, and yet, you had him here, looking at you like that, eating you with his eyes darkened like those of a hunter about to pounce

This wasn’t happening…

So it didn’t matter

It was all a dream

It had to be

it was definitely not the pills jace had replaced your birth control with

It was not the wine

It was a dream

“I can’t take it any longer”, he muttered, grabbing you by the fabric, ripping your robe from your body, grabbing your hips and drawing you to him, until you straddled him on the bed

You felt his… thick cock right under your pussy, and you moaned, wanted to feel it for real

“Oh yeah, rub yourself on me, you needy little thing”, he whined, he was so fucking sexy, as he looked up to you with those dark eyes, and chiseled like features 

He was wearing soft gray cotton pants, that did nothing to hide his monster cock

“Please Jacey”, you whined

“What?”, he teased, “you have been a really bad girl, you know? flaunting all of this in front of me, not even giving me a taste…”, his eyes trailed your naked body over him, his greedy hands grabbing and squishing everything he could get his hands on

You rubbed yourself on him shamesly, needily 

“I need you”, you whined

“Oh I know you do”, he growled.

You decided to take matters into your own hands. you separated from him a bit, just enough so you could grab the hem of his pants and lower them, releasing his…

Oh fuck

So you weren’t lying to yourself, it was big and thick, and already so hard, and leaking

All for you

“Mmmm”, you moaned, in anticipation, as you took it with both your hands, it felt so heavy, you couldn’t even wrap your hands around it

“Use it”, demanded Jace, you started rubbing him, pumping him, making sure to use his own precum to lubricate him.

“So big”, you barely recognize yourself, you didn't know what was happening, you wanted him so badly it hurted you

“Is all yours baby”, he whined 

If it was yours, you were going to do as you wanted, you dropped to your knees between his thick thighs, as Jace looked down at you with devotion

Only two of his fingers and he had you on your knees for him

He couldn’t even wait to see what was going to happen after he fucked you

He moaned, dropping his head back when you gave him a kitten lick at his tip

“Fuck”, there was no way you could fit it all in your mouth, so you used both hand to massage him as you took care of his tip, “yes just like that”

You moaned approvingly, trying to get as much as you could, but it wasn’t much

“You like sucking cock don’t you?”, he asked, his voice thick

“Yes”, you released him, only to answer, and then you took him in your mouth again, sucking his tip

“Shit!”, he cursed

He knew you were going to be… open… for it, but he never expected this, it was better than anything he could have imagined 

You wanted to please him, and he didn't rush you, yet, you tried to take more and more each time your head bobbed up and down

Not even half

But Jace stopped you

“I need you”, he demanded, he stood up and helped you up too, you undressed him at his request, taking his hoodie, shirt, and getting rid of his pants until he kicked them off of his feet

He looked down at you, until he grabbed you, drawing you to him

Your naked bodies collided as your lips with his

He was hungry for you, his tongue immediately asking permission to enter and you gladly granted it

It was dirty, wrong, and you fucking love it

This is a dream

This is a dream

You were a tangle of limbs, as you fell to the bed, but you wanted to resume where you left, so you make sure he accommodate himself on the bed 

Your marital bed

His cock rested over his stomach, as you accommodate yourself over him

“Take it slow darling”, he whined, you grabbed his cock still wet with your saliva.

Oh he so wanted to taste you

But tonight, it was all about you using him

You accommodated yourself over him, lining his thick cock with your entrance, and then, you lowered yourself

You moaned when he entered you, the stench was a bit painful, but you were so wet, it felt incredibly delicious

“Tell me darling”, he said, looking up at you, his hand grabbing your hips, squishing the skin, “who is this making you feel so good?

“Mmmm Jace”, you whined, taking another inch inside of you, you moved your hips in circles, easing him into you, it felt so good, to feel him rub against your insides, he was filling you so good.

“Who?”, he demanded

“Jace!”, you cried out, when he retrieved himself, to punish you for something

“Who’s this cock that your are fucking yourself with?”, he asked then

“Yours!”, he slammed down, making you take all of him in one movements, “AH fuck!”, you cursed, “So full”

“This is nothing”, he teased, “I want to see you full of my cum”

Gods those words enticed you to keep moving your hips, fucking yourself on him, until you found the angle you needed, for him to bully your special spot

“It feels so good”, he whined, “your pussy is so fucking tight”

“Your cock is so big”, you babbled, now going up and down

“I know, and it's all yours”

“All mine?”, you asked

“Yes, is this pussy mine?”, he asked, easing your clit with his thumb, making you shriek 

“Yes!”, you screamed

“You sure?”, he teased

“Mhmh”, you moaned

“Good girl, as long as it is only mine, you can have this all you want”, you started going back and forth with your hips, making Jacaerys draw his head back… but he couldn’t come just yet, he grabbed you, and with a shriek and a single smooth movement, now he had you under him

“Enough, now we are making thing my way”, he growled

And he started thrusting so hard into you, the bed started creaking dangerously under you, the board slamming against the wall

“Ah”, you whined, your pussy tightening so hard, squeezing him, jace had to work hard not to cum tight then and there

“Take it”

He couldn’t believe this was happening, this must be a dream…

You cummed, hard, didn’t even try not to, it was too much…

And Jace cummed right after, filling you with his cum

You didn't even think about the consequences, there was not going to be any…

This was just a dream…

He took himself off of you, and immediately you felt his seed dripping out of you.

He chuckled darkly, with one of his fingers, he collected it and pushed back inside you, with your moan resounding all over your room

“You are mine now”, he demanded

Sleep was taking you, you were exhausted…

And Jace only hoped this was enough to breed you, not like he didn’t want to have you more times… 

But the sooner the better…

Right?

I'm going to be honest, I was going to cut it right before the smut, and then I thought, I couldn't do that to you all

muahaha

She folded pretty quickly but I mean, who wouldn't?

taglist!

@champomiel @urmomsgirlfriend1 @sweethoneyblossom1 @lukepattersin @ladylyanna91 @snowflake-latte @bruher @bellstwd @inesven @iamavailablesstuff @haydee5010 @happinessinthebeing @agqrtz @ajanauia @joliettes @lightdragonrayne @ivoryluvs @fairysluna

[afro-hispwriter]

The French Mistake was a mistake

Dean Winchester/Jensen Ackles x reader

Soulless Sam x reader(brief mention)

Summary- Dean is starting to believe you and him aren't meant to be in any universe

Warnings- 6x15(doesn’t follow it completely), mentions of suicide, mentions of being admitted to a facility, break ups, so much angst, mentions of anna, lisa, and ben, dean is a asshole lowkey(in the situation at least)

Not edited

-

Sam and Dean burst through the window and landed on a blue mat but before they could stand up someones yelled,

"CUT!" Bells rang, clapping, and whole bunch of talking started. The brothers looked around, Balthazar was gone and that's when the confusion started.

 "Great solid fall." Someone slapped Deans ass making him jump.

"Jared, Jensen outstanding. That was just great!" Said a old man in a chair and from behind a kid started speaking nonsense.

"Supernatural, scene one, "Echo." Take one, tail slate. Marker." And closed one of those movie boxes.

"So no angels?" Sam says.

"No angels, I think."

"Should we be killing anybody?"

"I don't think so."

"Running?"

"Where?"

Sam and Dean looked at the group of guys sitting around tv screens all talking. Then one yells "Moving on" and lights start turning on.

"Thats a wrap on Jared and Jensen." 

"Who the hell are-?"

It went by quick after that. Dean got dragged up to makeup stations and got the makeup he didn't think he had on him. Sam got dragged into an interview he had no idea how to answer.

They met up again, settling on being sent to another universe where they are actors who play Sam and Dean. They walked out of the building and the sight of Baby gave Dean a huge smile. But he watched a guy throw stuff over it and saw a whole bunch of Baby's. 

"Im gonna be sick." Dean says and starts to back away.

"We need Cas." Sam says and Dean tries to do some sort of "prayer"  but that was short lived when they spotted the man. 

That ended up being fake too. Cas' name in this universe was Misha. Misha? They kept walking around the lot until they saw the trailer that said "J. Ackles." 

"Thats fake me." Dean says and pointed at himself.

"Yeah." 

"This mist be fake mine." They walked in and Dean was instantly in awe. The fish tank and the freaking helicopter. Dean looked around the trailer and noticed a framed picture on a table. It was of fake him and a woman with brownish red hair. Maybe his sister? But the picture looked a little too intimate to be that.

It made him think of you. You left the team after the showdown with Lucifer. But he couldn't blame you. He hurt you, deeply. From Lisa, all the way too Anna. He really did like you but his connection too Anna was too great. And Lisa, Lisa and him are good. He loves her and he loves Ben. But every once in a while his mind would drift off to you, wondering what you were up too.

It was a dick move. Sam called him out on it, as did Bobby and Ellen. 

All this thought of you made him want to see if you were in the universe. Sam was typing away on fake his computer.

"Hey Sammy, I want to check something." Dean says and takes the laptop and plops on the couch. He starts typing in your name.

Y/n L/n Supernatural 

Pictures of you popped up, along with a description of your character. And again the bottom in the little box there were drop down choices with answers.

Why did Y/n Carter leave Supernatural?

Why did Dean and Y/n break up?

Do Y/n and Sam get together? 

That made Deans eyebrows furrow. Why would you and Sam ever get together? But he immediately groaned. When Sam was still soulless he apparently went to go see you, wherever you were. Because apparently Sam and Bobby were the only one to know where you went. He then proceeded to heavily dropped hints that he slept with you. It had taken everything for Dean not to beat up his soulless baby brother. 

Y/n Carter must be your name in this universe. Ironic how fake you and real you share the same first name. He clicked on the option that said why you left the show.

It was released that she left the show due to personal reasons but fans speculate it has something to do with her ex of 7 years Jensen Ackles(who plays Dean Winchester aka her love interest), leaving her and marrying a now former mutual friend, Daneel Harris now Daneel Harris-Ackles. 

"Holy shit" Dean mumbled, "Im a dick here too." 

"Whats wrong?"

"I looked up Y/n, wanted too know what she was up to. Apparently im an asshole here too." He passed the computer to Sam and he started reading. 

“At least you’re aware.” Sam mumbled and Dean shot him a look. “Huh seems like you guys broke up in this universe just after dad died in ours and she left the show around the time our Y/n left us." 

"You know where she is and wont tell me." Dean says with a slight glare.

"She doesn't want you too know, and for good reasons." Sam says.

"We need to find a way to get back to our universe." Dean says and looks over at the framed picture of fake him and the woman. It gave him a great unease. 

-

After trying to drive fake Baby. Sam and Dean just settled on getting driven to 'Jared's place as they should say. Fake Sam had a huge house, a freaking mansion. Dean noticed a tanning bed and opened it. 

"What am I Dracula?" Sam asks and shakes his head. Dean walked over to the large curtains as he heard animals making noises.

"Dude you have a freaking camal in your backyard."

"It's an alpaca, dumbass." A familiar woman's voice made them whip around. A woman at the top of the stairs, wearing a short black dress. 

"Ruby?" Dean looks at the woman is shock and she scoffs. 

"Gen, who is it?" The next voice that popped up was so sweet but sounded tired. Another woman appeared behind fake Ruby, dean let his eyes trail over her figure before his breath hitched.

"Y/n." He breathed out and took a step forward. He watched you swallow harshly all the way from where he was. You looked so beautiful, beautiful in every universe it seems. 

"G-Gen." you shakily said and grabbed her hand. "You said he wasn't going to be here."

"I know honey, I told a certain someone not to let another certain someone into the house even though I thought I didn't have to worry about it." Fake Ruby said all of that while glaring at Sam which made him shrink back. 

"I can't be here." You let her go and start to rush down the stairs. 

"Y/n wait let me talk to Jared and I'll take you back to your hotel room."

"Y/n." Dean walked towards you as you made it to the bottom of the stairs. "Hey." It had been more than a year since he last saw you, at least the real you. 

"Hey? Thats all you had to say after you admitted me to a fucking psych ward!? Dean took a step back and you took a step forward. "Got me written off the rest of 5?" You shoved your finger into his chest "You didn't even bother to visit me!" You shoved him fully this time.

This must have been what the internet was talking about.

“I-I-.” Dean tried to think of something to say but he was blank.

“Oh now you don’t have anything to say. Nothing about this being good for me, that everything is going to go back to normal after I get it. News flash Jensen, nothing worked. Fuck! WHY DIDNT YOU JUST LET ME DIE?” You screamed and shoved him hard making him almost fall back. 

“Okay Y/n honey go wait in the car.” Gen grabbed you by your arms and guided you to the door. 

“Fuck you Jensen, I wish I never fucking met you.” Gen opened the door for you and the boys watched fake Ruby watch you go to the car. She took in a deep breath before whipping around to the two boys. 

“Seriously Jensen, nothing you couldn’t say anything too her? Do you know what this could do to her?” Dean bit his lip and wiped his eye with the back of his hand. “Crying, you’re crying? Jesus I don’t want to see you talking to her outside of work, you’ve ruined my friend for the rest of her life.” 

Dean looked down at his shoes in shame and it felt weird too. This wasn’t his life, so why was it affecting him this much?

“And you.” Fake Ruby looks at Sam. “We’ll talk later.” She walks up to him and wraps a hand around his neck and pulls him down to her lips. He didn’t kiss her back, the shock of the whole thing has Sam stumped. She pulled away and let out a disappointed sigh before walking about of the house. 

It was quite for a mom between them. 

“Sammy we need to go home now.” Dean says, it was so quite Sam almost didn’t catch it. He didn’t sound like Dean.

“Dean, you okay?” He watched his brother bring bath hands up and wipe his eyes before turning around.

“Im going too stop asking you about her from now on.” He says and Sam cocks his head.

“About Y/n? Dean what’s happening in this universe, is nothing compared to what was happening back home.” 

“No you don’t understand! This just proved that me and Y/n don’t work, in any universe.”

“You don’t know that.”

“Yes I do. Fake me left her first another woman after 7 years Sammy. And I left her for a woman who ended up wanting to ruin us. And them I didn’t even try to go after her after you disappeared, like you told me too. Im fucked up Sam, its better this way for her.” 

“Dean don’t say that-.”

“Sammy please, let’s just find a way back.”

-

A/n- if people want it, planning on making more about dean x reader, but the Jensen situation in this one… there is no coming back from that kinf of situation.  so no. But I have a big plan for Deans, I really hope people want more and want too know about it😁Feedback appreciated, I will love you forever

[iicarused]

More on that whole Alastor having a spouse thing (spoilers for ep5).

A dynamic I've had rotating in my mind is of Alastor having a partner who died and went to hell with him. They represent the stereotypical couple from their time and all around are just happy, despite being in hell. Before they died Al's darling helped him cover up his crimes. Being his alibi, lying to people and cleaning up any messes he might have accidentally left behind. Even on occasions helping him cook or even back using the meat he hunted for. And when they both eventually kicked the bucket they held those values as they did when they were alive.

From an onlookers perspective they come off as a couple who's madly in love with one another, still holding that adoration towards each other through the decades they've been together. They dance together, they hold hands, they kiss… But it's not love. Ok, let me rephrase that for you. They gouge out other people's eyes out of jealousy, they pick their next victims together, they have eachothers back through thick and thin. It's not love, it's deeper.

The thing about those two is that no one can really understand them, as cheesy as that sounds. It gives them a sense of solidarity, that there is no one else for them because there is no one else like them. They are the only ones they would consider… Equals. Heh, one of the reasons why they're so intertwined with each other is because they're both just so terrible. His darling spouse just seems more negotiable, but their passiveness is a ruse. Coming of as motherly/fatherly (whatever the gender neutral term is) easily reeling in any weak minded sinners. Their diabolical antis have Alastor weak. HAH, the demon/angel, whoever has Alastor on contract wishes they had this amount of power over him because he, is, whipped.

Oh, and we can't forget the hotel's residents finding out about Al's little darling doe. Either it was Alastor who mentioned them or Mimzy did through her retelling of how Al rose to power. Or they already meet them (Husker, Niffty), but nevertheless the crew has only heard good things about you. Much to their surprise considering how self centered the dear demon is, while Vaggie is weirded out by this her girlfriend is happy and wishes to meet them someday/night. And when they do meat? They weren't very surprised, they kinda already had an image of who they were due to Alastor's ramblings.

.

.

.

Holding you close he kisses your neck where the burn marks are most visible. You can feel his everlasting smile tugging into a frown against your skin, the mere thought of you taking your own life still makes him sick. How afraid you must have been without him. You lean back cupping his cheek with your hand looking deep into his sorrowful eyes. An unfamiliar look for the usually dapper man, it didn't suit him.

“There's no need to get so worked up over old scars dear, I don't, so why should you? Besides, I'm here now aren't i?”

At your words the radio demon saged and let out a content sigh, his lovely smile returning.

“Your right” he said, kissing the inside of your palm before returning back to snuggling with his lover.

…

I can't imagine the reader not having a twang to their voice, their own vibe, not radio per say but something like from this youtube clip. It probably wouldn't make sense for them to sound like that but I couldn't get it out of my head.

If there's one thing I love , it's when others explore the relationship between the two individuals before they went six feet down under. And one of those versions that i quite enjoy is Deer Dolly by ohproserpine check em out. And also, Where do I begin? on ao3 (be warned, for there is implication of SA in it, nothing too graphic but still, protective Alastro being protective, love it).

I think the appeal of Alastor was how different he was (except for in the creepy ass twink department, we've got plenty of those). Mainly in the way he was presented. “a show made independently, and the voice actors are making streams talking in their characters voices? Ö”. And everyone just ran with what they had, we were given just enough to fall for the colorful cast, enough to make fan content before the pilot was out. Like the dad jokes, fan animations, Alastor saying darling~ and the many accounts of them flustering Ashley, among other things :) (all the letters are links, haven't seen some of these in years dafuq). I'm surprised that not many people use what they said in the streams in their writings, I'd wish to see more of that. There's some real gold in there to be utilized.

But anyways, back to the topic at hand. There's always been one song I've associated Alastor with, since I was like 15 to16 years old, and it's something has to happen. Can't help but imagine a chase sequence whenever I listen to it, and I recently found some more inspiration in the form of this! and that.

.

.

.

He could smell the fear radiating from his prey, they ran with haste, trying to put distance between them and their pursuer. The demon chuckled to himself at their persistence. Such a lively prey they were, truly, he couldn't wait to hold them close to his chest, to trap them in the grip of his teeth, tearing tissue and bones in his jaws. Oh He loves them, he hunts them.

…

Man, I remember back in the day there were so many stories revolving around Alastor appearing in the living world to torment his darling, or to make a meaningful connection with them. But I've never seen one where his darling is his accomplice, helping him spread his “curse” onto unsuspecting victims. I got this idea from this piece of artwork by lanveril.

i remember the days of that too! it was such a great time of alastor and obsession fics yknow, but also small??? since it was just the pilot and we had a lot to toy around with. but you are so right about him and his s/o being a cheesy couple.

the sweetest couple on the block who seem very normal and overall a prime example of love. “darling, i have the meat!” and you would beckon him in the kitchen with a sweet smile so you could prepare it.

i think he would be a cliche husband, but also one who enjoys a little rough housing form time to time.

i had to gatekeep this ask for awhile mb LMFAOO i loved it so much😭

[muddyorbsblr]

when the feeling sinks in

'one look and they'll know' collection masterlist See my full list of works here!

Placement: dating era; a few months after 'one look and they'll know'

Summary: Ragnarok wrapped up filming and now you're back in your apartment, waking up a little too alone and feeling a little too lonely. You thought that you were the only one until you heard a knock on your door.

Pairing: Tom Hiddleston x Reader

Word Count: 4.4k

Warnings: language; mentions of alcohol use if you squint [let me know if i missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: slight angst; Tomathy enters his comforting bf era; Reader's a-plus premature timing

The chipper intro of your morning alarm taunted you today as the curtains drew open, bathing your room in the light of the sunrise. You felt conflicted, laying there in your bed. On the one hand, you didn't want to get up because you knew what awaited you was nothing but a long tiresome day of unpacking and cleaning your apartment, making the place livable again after being away for the last few months on set for Ragnarok. A pile of mail to open and checks to deposit and bills to pay, along with a considerably thick layer of dust on nearly every surface of your home, were all waiting for you to get your ass up out of bed and make this place seem like a home again.

On the other hand, you didn't quite want to stay in your bed, either. It felt hauntingly empty, a loneliness creeping its way through you as the words of the song filling up the room dared to mock you.

There is no way I'm looking for a boyfriend, there is no way I'm looking for a scene

So much for your adamant intent of not wanting or needing to be with anyone but yourself. After the last few months of feeling like you were living in some modern day fairytale where the 'plain Jane' girl entered into a whirlwind romance with the actor that has literally played princes and kings, the clock finally struck midnight.

And rather than being thrust rather harshly into reality, you were shoved back into it. Face down on the ground as soon as your plane hit the tarmac.

Now you were back in the bed you left all those months ago, painfully aware of what you were missing ever since you'd stubbornly decided that you weren't cut out for relationships all those years ago. The last few months saw your steady descent into becoming spoiled with affection, waking in Tom's arms, those sinfully skilled hands roaming your body as the sunlight touched your skin.

A decadent round of lovemaking before you even left the bed when your schedules permitted it.

You felt every bit like a princess when you were with him. Or in his words, a goddess. Now you were back to being a pumpkin and you needed to pick yourself up from the path you were spiraling down headfirst before you found yourself fully admitting to sentiments you swore you'd never feel again.

He must leave a trail of heartbroken women in his wake if he treated all his flings like that, you thought to yourself ruefully, your body whining and aching in places you didn't think they could as you sat up in your bed. Before you could even think about it, you reached for your phone and typed down the sentiment in a note, keeping it in a hidden folder that you for the most part did your best to never revisit once you'd placed something in there.

"Oh how you've ruined me for everyone else but you, Thomas William Hiddleston," you spoke out loud as you typed down the note, locking it away in a folder deep in your drive. You hoped that with putting away the note, the sentiment would be buried deep down as well.

You put your hair up in a bun, pulling on an old shirt and some sweats from your college days and started cleaning away at the house, putting your clothes from the set straight into the wash. The faintest scent of his cologne hit you as you tossed it into the washer, taking you straight back to your memory of one of the last times you saw each other, at the wrap party.

You stood at a little table with Bryan and Denise, nursing a strawberry lemonade with a splash of vodka, wincing the slightest bit whenever the liquor made its presence felt in the taste. "I said a splash," you grumbled, placing the drink atop the tray of the wait staff collecting drinks was holding. "Damn thing's probably fifty percent vodka."

"Hey hey there you three are!" Taika greeted you, pulling you all into a little group hug. "Making this has been a dream and a half, and I owe you and your team so much thanks, lil mayhem. I'm definitely calling you again when we start on the next one."

"Ooh, so Marvel's definitely getting you again, then, boss?" Denise quipped, excitement and a bit of alcohol reddening her cheeks and making her the comical picture of cherubic inebriation.

He shook his head with a wide smile that left you confused. "No," he answered her. "But a bit of positive thinking never hurt anyone, am I right?"

The song blaring on the speakers changed to a familiar beat from Zedd, your teammates and Taika all dragging you out into the dance floor with them as the words began to hit you like a freight train.

You are the piece of me I wish I didn't need

Instead of dwelling on the lyrics, you forced yourself to move your body to the beat, finding yourself even having fun despite the glimpses you'd caught of various members of the crew along with some members of the press openly flirting with Tom. Despite your words to him this morning, the sight of him still visibly moving forward so easily felt like a stab to the heart.

"Something about all good things ending eventually," your memories taunted you. "Thank you for giving me a good thing."

The song faded out to give way to the acoustic notes of that James Arthur song that you'd been hearing all over Spotify, and just as you were about to take your leave from the dance floor, you were spun into a familiar pair of arms. Suddenly the very eyes that you'd been trying to block out from your mind were staring down at you, a soft smile gracing those heartbreakingly handsome features.

Tom wrapped his arm around your waist, keeping you in a secure hold as he ran the backs of his fingers along your cheek with his free hand. "May I have this dance, goddess?" He broke out into a brilliant blinding grin when you mutely nodded your head, placing your hand on his shoulder as he began to sway you to the beat of the song.

"You should know right now that I can't dance like this to save my life," you told him, unable to fight back the smile that stretched across your face as you looked at him.

"Neither can I," he answered you with a chuckle, a tenderness in his eyes that had you struggling to stay upright had he not been holding you up. "Perhaps we could find our way together."

The seething piercing gazes of the women around you began to steer your thoughts down a rather self-conscious route, the bitter scrutiny in their eyes as they looked at your simple navy blue skater dress that you got on sale back home. Meanwhile their clothes screamed designer; even if some of them might have to be extra careful tonight so that they could successfully return them with tags intact, at the moment all that mattered to them was that they were dressed better than you…and yet somehow you were the one dancing with the most handsome man in the room.

Their faces screamed with the incredulous question "Why her? She's nothing special."

"You know I don't think it's expressly polite for you to ignore all the other pretty girls in this party," you mumbled, butterflies fluttering wildly in your stomach as his gaze never left yours. As if he didn't even care about anyone else watching you. "They're practically shaking from itching to dance with you."

"They'll be left itching and wanting, then," he shot back, both of your breaking into a fit of chuckles from the thought. "And as for beautiful women…" He tilted your chin up to hold your gaze. "There's only one that I care about. And she's already in my arms."

"Smooth talking way too handsome for his own fucking good living breathing Disney Prince," you grumbled as you started your first load of laundry. You dragged your feet to the supply closet to grab a bunch of cleaning rags and start at your living room, feeling a slight satisfaction watching as the dust made its way off the various surfaces and you could finally start to see your home once again.

When night began to fall and you had to start turning on the lights throughout your apartment just so you could see and make your way around without bumping into any corners, you decided to order in some dinner. Mostly because your stomach was beginning to sound like a baby gremlin.

You were just about to press 'Order Now' on your screen when your doorbell rang. "Okay if that's my delivery they better not be charging me extra for psychic services, I haven't even pressed the damn button yet," you muttered, immediately feeling like you swallowed your tongue the second you opened the door.

It wasn't Postmates.

"Tom?" The air left your lungs as you uttered his name, refusing to believe what your eyes were seeing. Meanwhile the very same man with the oceanic eyes and god-like face and body that you were trying to block out of your mind was standing not even two feet in front of you, wearing the same smile that he had on his face like he just ran five laps around the studio.

His grin got wider as he breathed your name, running his gaze down your face and what parts of your body weren't covered by the door.

"What--What're you uhh…doing here?"

He became a bit sheepish, running his hand through his short dark blond curls, tilting his head down before looking at you with the most endearing boyish expression. "I erm…If I'm being completely honest I'm here because I wanted to see you." His gaze darted to beyond your door before landing on your face again. "May I come in?"

You immediately snapped out of your stupor, feeling a complete fool for forgetting your manners. "Oh! Uhh of course." You opened your door wider to let him step through, suddenly feeling rather inadequate in your own home, feeling like your college sweats didn't measure up to his no doubt designer threads. "Sorry for the mess," you mumbled, waving your hand in the direction of the insides of your house, then at yourself. "I was cleaning up since I haven't been home in months and I wasn't expecting company--"

Any lame apology for the frumpy way you looked died in a muffled squeak at the back of your throat when Tom pulled you into his arms and laid his lips on yours. You could practically feel yourself melting more and more into his embrace with every brush of his lips.

"I've missed you, goddess," he sighed into your skin. "Last night I went to bed alone and it felt so…empty." He continued to press tender kisses to your cheek, working his way up to your forehead. "So I hopped on the next flight here. To you. I just needed to see you again."

You could feel a lump at your throat from processing his words, the backs of your eyes prickling with tears from realizing that he felt the same way you did when you woke up this morning. "I know the feeling," you managed to choke out as he kissed his way back to your lips. "I uhh…I was just about to order dinner. If you're willing to wait about…an hour? You could uhm…join me? I mean if you don't already have--"

He kissed you again, cutting you off from rambling yourself into an embarrassing grave. He probably had prettier girls ask him out way better than you just did. "You've been exerting yourself all day, you should rest. How about I go and pick something up for us, and you just focus on unwinding and relaxing from the day you had?"

A warmth spread all over your body as he held you, nuzzling your noses together as he ran his fingers up and down the length of your spine. It had you feeling so content that every part of you wanted nothing more than to ignore the panic settling deep inside you that you were feeling too comfortable around him, something you swore to never be around any man ever since you vowed to stick to one so far undisputed belief in your life.

The most blissful moments have the most catastrophic ends.

And at this moment you felt a little too much of that bliss.

"I'd like that," you breathed out, unable to help the way your mouth stretched into a way too contented grin as he tucked a stray lock of hair behind your ear, touching his nose to yours again before he headed for the door.

"I'll be half an hour tops," he said softly, looking over you again with that all too soft gaze. "Do what you need to wrap up for the day and unwind. I'll call you when I'm nearly home--I mean, when I'm nearly here."

You couldn't speak through the lump in your throat, your heart doing backflips in your chest from his slip of the tongue. All you could do was give him a smile, waving him off. You couldn't even tell if your sentiment for him to be careful out there was audible enough to reach him.

Home. You didn't hear him wrong. He called your apartment home.

By the time you finished with your shower, the timer you set for 27 minutes was still a few minutes out from ringing, giving you just enough time to slather on some lotion and spritz on some perfume, considering that the flight along with the amount of cleaning you just did today had you feeling far from fresh. Even after the hot shower.

And also the fact that the embodiment of the phrase 'sex on legs' was on his way back to you with dinner.

By the time his name was flashing on your screen, you were already at your kitchen counter, sorting out your mail from the last few months, already writing your todo list for the next morning involving a trip to the bank to cash in some checks that came in. You had the naughty little thought of writing "Tom" as an item on that list, but ultimately decided against it.

"I'm not optimistic, let alone presumptuous," you grumbled, putting the pen away when you heard the doorbell ring again. What greeted you on the other side was Tom beaming at you with hands full of bags, already putting your naughtier thoughts front and center and on hyperdrive with how his muscles bulged under his sweater from the weight of them.

"Wasn't sure what drink you'd prefer," he said in an exhale as he put the bags down, taking out bottles as he listed them off to you. "So I got us a bit of a selection. Some sparkling water…some soda…and just in case…" He let out a bit of a chuckle before pulling out the last bottle, getting a giggle out of you as well the second you eyed the bold serif letters and the star on the gold label. "Champagne."

You started moving towards the cupboard where you stored your glasses when he crossed the distance between you two, placing his hands on your waist to stop you. "What're you--"

"I figured with the day you've had, you wouldn't want to do a single second of clean up so…" He darted over to the other side of the counter again, pulling out a small pack of paper cups. "I got these."

Oh dear fuck, he actually thought of everything, you internally swooned, indulging yourself in basking in another blissful moment that he'd somehow known to give you after being here for less than an hour.

"Also…" He reached into a bag that made a clinking sound when he set it down, pulling out a small vase that held three deep red carnations. "I got these for you. I know you're not one for those big garish arrangements, so I thought you might like these. They might go well in the living area, by your sofa, or also here--"

"They're perfect," you blurted out, not even bothering to hold back the smile that took over your face. You're perfect. I love you.

He stilled in his movements, looking at you with wide, shining, puppy-like eyes. "What did you say?" he breathed out, slowly starting to make his way to you.

Shit did I say that out loud?! "What? I didn't--I didn't say--" You couldn't breathe. Did you actually say those words out loud? Your knees felt weak. You clung to the countertop to stand upright, bracing yourself for the usual spiel.

You're a whole smoke show and all but I hope you didn't get the wrong idea. This was just for fun, where did that come from, sweet thing? I like you and all that, but I wanna keep this a bit more open, you know? We're young and I don't think I wanna tie myself down to just you.

Knowing Tom, he'd probably say something that stung less in the moment but when you actually took a second to let it sink in…the devastation would be on another level. He'd break you. And all you could do was brace for impact.

Once he'd crossed the distance between you two, he framed your face in his hands, those wide puppy-like eyes now seeing the sheer panic in yours, his expression betraying your expectations. He wasn't looking at you with a condescension and smugness that screamed of someone stroking his ego getting a girl to blurt out that cursed sentiment at a ridiculously early point in the relationship.

And saying it first, too.

But instead he looked at you with an increasing concern as your vision began to blur from the tears in your eyes. He pressed kisses up and down the side of your face, guiding you through your breathing so that you'd stop hyperventilating like the air was too thin to breathe in properly. "Oh, sweet goddess," he sighed against your skin, pressing a lingering kiss to your temple. "You weren't quite ready to say those words yet, were you?"

"I didn't say anything," you whimpered lamely, making him lean away to get a look at you, wiping away the tears that threatened to fall from your eyes.

"Alright, it's alright," he said softly, pressing a kiss to your lips. "You're not quite ready to hear those words yet, either. That's alright." He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a warm embrace that deceptively felt too much like home, kissing the top of your head.

It took a good few moments before you could bring yourself to return his embrace, hearing a sound of relief from him when you finally did. "I'm sorry it's just--I'm not--"

"Shhh shhh, there's no need for apologies," he whispered into your hair. "I just want you to know something." He tucked his hand under your chin, tilting your head and kissing you again before continuing. "I want you to know how that I am already beyond happy that you share your time and your body with me, and I'll never take that for granted. And if the day ever comes that you wish to give me your heart, I want you to know that it will be safe with me. Because those words that you didn't say earlier? I feel the same way."

The violent fluttering in your stomach was back. "Tom, I--"

"When you're ready, and only when you're ready, I'll be here. I'll always be here." He pressed his forehead to yours, brushing his nose across yours. "We don't have to talk about it."

You eyed him with incredulity. How could you both just go on pretending that you didn't just stupidly blurt out those words? How could he be okay with that?

"Right now I am more than happy to simply spend the night having a lovely dinner with my girlfriend."

"Girlfriend?" you repeated, breathless. After the level of batshit that was the last few minutes, he wanted to keep this going?

"Only if you wish to be," he said in a rush, bewildering you when you saw a similar type of panic enter his eyes. "I'd--I'd be fine if you don't want to put a label yet I just…" He sighed, pressing another soft kiss to your lips before tightening his arms around you. "I didn't want what we started to end just because we stopped working together."

"I…" Your words caught in your throat, finding it near impossible to even form anything coherent while he continued to press kisses to your cheek and temple. "I haven't been anyone's girlfriend in so long," you said in a rush. "And the last time, it--it burned me."

That last time scarred you so badly you began to see the appeal of the 'eternal bachelorette' lifestyle. Because much as it was so tempting to get lost in the feeling of being pursued and courted, you knew the downfall when eventually they would grow complacent. When they started seeing you as something 'routine'.

When they want the thrill of the chase again, mixed in with the thrill of betrayal.

You barely had anything left in you to even attempt going into that adventure one more time. And yet you already knew that you were going to. For him.

Because you loved him. You even said it yourself with your a-plus timing that was so premature that teenage boys would be embarrassed for you.

"The last thing I would ever want is to hurt you," he whispered, his breath warming your face as he pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth. "All I want at this moment is to know that tomorrow morning I wake up holding you again."

You could hear how every single voice that gave you a reason to not take another chance on him fade away into a dull murmur in the back of your head. His eyes shone with all the barely-there restraint, as if he had more words ready. As if he was trying to stop himself from pleading his case to you.

One last shot, you could hear the tired voice in you give in. If this goes down the drain, I don't ever wanna try again. I won't have enough heart to break if he ever decides he's done with me.

"Girlfriend," you tested the word, his breath hitching when he heard you say it. "I kinda like the sound of that."

Getting used to a new timezone wasn't quite something that got easier with time, which was how Tom ended up waking earlier than intended, warm contentment washing over him once he felt you in his arms. He shuffled closer to you, stifling any sound that might come out of him when you met him halfway, your naked body pressing against his own and letting out a little contented sigh when skin met skin.

He still couldn't quite believe what happened last night, remembering the way his heart jumped in his chest when he heard the whispered words from you. It wasn't his imagination or his daydreams getting the better of him, you said them. I love you. And he wanted nothing more than anything to scoop you up into his arms and say the words back.

But the panic in your eyes once you realized what you'd said tore at him and stopped him from doing just about anything. There was a hurt that painted your face last night as if you were bracing for impact. Like you were just preparing yourself for incoming pain. And the realization that you weren't ready to say the words or maybe even hear them had him pushing the words back down his throat with every ounce of strength he had.

The last thing he ever wanted to do was hurt you. The second to last was to scare you off.

Until that day came he would cling to the little things, find ways to show you his affections if hearing them wasn't quite yet an option. For now he was more than happy knowing that your relationship was far from over; in fact, it was safe to say that it was just beginning.

He pressed his lips to your shoulder, kissing a trail up to your ear and smiling against your skin at the little whimpers and moans that escaped you with every kiss. "Good morning, goddess," he whispered, pressing a kiss below your ear when you stirred in his arms.

"Hmmph…mooring," you slurred, stirring in his arms, your voice still rather thick with sleep.

"I'm going to go out and see what I can get us for breakfast. Any special orders? Cravings?"

It took a few seconds before he could make complete sense of what you murmured, your words jumbled together. "French toast and bacon, please."

He pressed a kiss to your cheek, his heart skipping a beat when he felt your cheek rise in a smile against his lips. "Go back to sleep, sweetheart. I'll wake you when I'm home." There it was again. That slip of the tongue that had him grinning ear to ear whenever he said it.

Home. It wasn't a hotel room in a hotel room in Sydney. Or Atlanta. It wasn't his house back in London. Or his mum's.

It wasn't even here, in an apartment in Los Angeles.

It was you.

He could be camping out in the depths of the woods folding himself into a tent, but if he was sharing that tent with you, then he was home.

And if his realization already had his heart behaving erratically, your next words had it going on overdrive. "Okay, be careful. I love you."

He waved a hand in front of your face. No reaction. Your guards weren't fully up because you were barely even half-awake. He decided to go for it, hoping that somehow even through your sleep-laden mind, his message would reach you.

"I love you, too."

A/N: In hindsight, if I knew that this was gonna turn into a whole series/collection, I would've named it better 😂 Anyways, welcome to the first 'chapter' in the 'said it first' arc! We've seen these two blorbos in their happy in love era with the Soccer Aid Chronicles as well as their Kinktober shot, but we haven't ever really seen anything from them that resembled angst…Well that's because that era went down early on in their relationship. Like in the first few months early on, and it really stems from Reader and her baggage making it a whole ass journey to say "I love you" without wanting to curl up in a hole she buried for herself.

This arc will have 5 entries…at least that's what my notes said, but let's see where my writer brain takes us 😂

'everything' taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog @peaky-marvel @lokiified @tom-hlover

[cheynovak]

Another, other Cinderella story  

Soldier Boy x Reader (Y/N) 

Warnings: Angst, Smut, 18+, Alcohol, Soft dominance, ...  

Side note: English isn’t my first language.  

Words: 5471 

*Does not follow The Boys storyline! *  

sequel: Happy ever after ?

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Y/N is the rebellious daughter of a famous actor in the 1960. Her dad wants to keep her out of the public eye, since he cheated on his wife with her mother. Never intended to have a future with her. But then there was Y/N. Her mother, a poor woman, threated to bring out the truth about her if he didn’t take care of his child’s education. So, she jumped from one institution for troubled young woman to the next boarding school. But all she wants to do is leave, have fun and start a life of her own.  

Little did she know her life will take a turn when her father invited the infamous Soldier Boy to his party.  

For more stories check my Masterlist.

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Y/N never cared for movie stars or singers unlike all the other girls at the boarding school. Maybe her dad is the reason for it. She never had a real relationship with him. She was a bastard to him and a troublemaker.  

And she did everything to make sure he would remember that. Getting thrown out of school, behaving like a wild child. All these things made her re-do her senior year, twice. Once every few months she is allowed to leave the school and visit her family, unlike the other kids at school, she wasn’t allowed to go home on weekends, her father’s choice.  

Since her mom died over a year ago, she was forced to spend that time with her father, that was when she started to ‘misbehave’. Her father wanted her to walk around, dress and act like a lady should. While all she wanted was to travel the world.   

Today he celebrated his 50th birthday and of course he invited all of Hollywood. It was also Y/N’s last few weeks at the school, and she is determined to make the best out of her life. She put on her persona of the perfect daughter, just to get out of that boarding school.  

Y/N was allowed to attend the party that weekend, if she agreed to work as a servant and of course behave. Walking around with the food, asking if the already extremely drunk uncle Harry, your stepmother’s brother, needed another drink. But mostly just be eye candy like the other women here were.  

Y/N is the youngest girl walking around, although no one would suspect she was. Her posture and manners made her look older, mature. But she wasn’t legally, allowed to drink yet, but then again there were more things she wasn’t allowed to do, and yet she already tried.  

Her friends called her the rebel because she would sneak out to go to parties, had boyfriends who were just a little too old for her. And when they wanted to know “things” they didn’t teach at the boarding school they would knock on her door.  

But when it came to these events she knew how to behave. She would walk around with a certain flair. And instead of punching a man in the face when he touched her, she learned how to ‘dance’ around them.  

Y/N got used to the looks of the men by now, but there was one man in particular that caught her eye. It took her a while to recognise him without his uniform, but then it hit her. Soldier Boy... her mother did tell her stories about this superhero before going to bed.  

How he would watch over her and keep her safe, but the man sitting there, who hasn’t aged a day, didn’t seem much like the man you thrust your kids to. And of course, daddy dearest knew the most famous supe of all. 

While she waited at the bar on the refills for Uncle Harry, she watched how every woman at the party threw herself at his feet. Including your younger ‘sister’. While he smoked his cigar, ignored the underaged girl, he talked and laughed with the man and your father.  

Y/N must have been staring a little too long because he turned his head to her, without scanning the area first. Not knowing he had his eye on her this entire time. 

When his green eyes looked right at her, she felt her breath hitch. Goose bumps covered her from neck to toe. “Here you go luv.” Franky the bartender said. “T-thanks.” Her perfect painted red lips turned in a curl before she took the drinks out of his hands.  

Y/N walked back to Harry, although she was great at pretending, pretending that her feet didn’t hurt became more and more challenging. Walking for hours and hours on these black heels made her feet hurt like hell.  

She took one more glance at soldier boy, noticing how he was listening to her dad while his eyes scanned her body. He tilted his head, his eyes grew a darker shade of green. Clearly not caring about a word your dad was saying to him.  

Y/N knew that look.  

His eyes meet hers again, she would have sworn he smiled at her, not a teeth showing, heart drop smile, no, a god if I had you alone, the things I would do to you, grin. She took a deep breath right before her foot caught behind the carpet.  

She was able to remain her balance but the drinks on the tray weren’t. The red wine fell over aunt Trina’s silk dress. “Oh my... I’m so, so sorry.” Y/N kneeled next to her, trying to help her by wiping her dress with her sleeve. Uncle Harry got up. “You stupid child! Do you have any idea how expensive this was.” His fat hand grabbed her by the cheeks.  

Y/N could feel his fingers pinch into her skin, a little harder and he would have pierced her cheeks. He pulled her on to her feet. Y/N closed her eyes, she knew he got a little aggressive when he had a few to many but this was a Harry she has never seen before. 

He let go of her for a second, but by the time she opened her eyes she felt a hard slap against her cheekbone. The impact made her tremble over the glasses on the floor, she fell down, cutting her hand in the process. Seeing how the very heavy man came closer. 

Y/N’s uncle stood above her, she closed her eyes again, waiting for his next move when she heard a deep voice behind her. “Hey fat suit, leave the girl alone.” She looked over her shoulder, seeing soldier boy walking towards Harry.  

Her dad tried to hold him back saying it is all a misunderstanding, trying not to let him intervene. He placed his hand on the supe’s shoulder, only to receive a stone-cold look, a warning to let him go. Which, smart as he was, he did. “You think you’re tough, hitting a girl half, hell, a third of your size.” He looked the man up and down.  

Leaving Harry speechless, leaving the entire room speechless. Y/N looked up, she knew Soldier Boy was muscular, but sitting on the floor looking up at this man, who now stood beside her made it feel like she was looking at a god. 

Y/N’s dad walked Harry and his wife towards the exit before this escaladed. The girls helped Y/N getting up while Soldier boy was still keeping his eyes on Harry. When he turned around Y/N was already at the bar with the other girls and Franky, taking care of her hand.  

She looked over her shoulder to him, he could see the tears in her eyes, when she mouthed “thank you.”  to the supe. He only nodded in response, but she could see his eyes moving over her again. Different than before, more a look to see if she was alright.  

Soldier boy walked slowly towards her, close enough to hear the conversation she had with her dad. “Why don’t you go to bed. The night is over for you.” - “I can stay if you want to. Clean up my mess.” She said waving at the broken glass at the floor. ‘Get to your room, you embarrassed us all tonight.”  

“Just, I don’t know, tell them, you fired me or something.” - “I wish I could fire you as my daughter. Your sister is a well-behaved young woman, but you, you always make a scene, wherever you go. Now go, out of my sight.”  

Soldier boy had heard the conversation, daughter, she sure wasn’t mentioned before when he met the other one. “Thomas.” He stopped her dad. “Who was that girl?” He saw his face turning green, “Ah eh... overpaid servant.” Soldier boys nodded not believing a word he said. 

The night went on, Y/N could hear the music from downstairs playing. No way she would be able to sleep in this noise. So, she did what she always did when sleepless, draw. She took off her shoes, let down her hair, still slightly curled from the up do and removed that ridiculous red lipstick.  

Taking a seat by the open window, letting the breeze through her hair. Her hand still hurts, so she placed her sketchbook on her knees, looked outside for inspiration, but all she could think of was soldier boy’s eyes. The emotions he had shown through them.  

She got lost in her drawings, hearing a knock on her open door made her flinch. “Hi.” His deep voice echoed in her head. While he stepped inside. “What are you doing here?” She answered a little too rude. She saw soldier boy’s face change.  

“I thought I come check on the sweet girl who just got punched in the face, but it seems like she left the building.” He turned his back to her, walking out of the door. Which her body clearly didn’t want, her stomach turned at the idea of him walking away. “Wait!” she almost jumped to her feet.  

He stopped, “I’m sorry, I just had a really bad day.” she saw how his shoulders slightly dropped at ease. “And thank you, again.” He turned around, “Let me see.” looking around while pointing at her hand. Trying to look uninterested.  

She felt his warm hand unwrapping the band aid. “It’s not too deep, it will heal nicely.” Y/N had trouble breathing, it felt like something pushed on her lungs, breathing heavy. And yet she really liked it. Unconsciously she moved closer to him.  

Soldier boy’s hand moved a lock of hair behind her ear, to look at her eye, seeing it turning blue underneath the redness. Her eyes roamed over his features, this was the first time she noticed he had little freckles over his nose. How full his lips where, how... kissable? His hand lingered on her cheek almost touching her neck.  

“You’ll live.” those words made her daydream burst, and brought her back to reality. “Tell me, why does Thomas keep you a secret?” Y/N frowned at that question. “You are their daughter, right?” She nodded, “well, his but not hers.” - “Aha, there we have it.” His index finger touched her nose. 

Soldier boy’s eyes roamed the room again, lips curled into a smile “What do we have here.” He thought he had caught her writing her diary. Find something to make her blush. But no, the moment his hand left her face she was able to play it cool again.  

“My sketchbook.” - “You draw?” - “Uhu.” She said while sitting down on her bed. “It’s good... it’s me?” Y/N’s lips curled into a smile, “Well, you kept looking at me. So yeah, I drew your eyes.” Soldier boy pouted his lips, while he went through her book. His eyes got bigger then turned the book at her.  

“Spicy.” He grinned showing her one of her old sketches, a man sleeping barley covered by blankets. “What, you never saw a naked man before?” He clearly liked her boldness. “Who is he? A model at your art school?” - “Ex Boyfriend.” Now that, he did not expect.  

He looked at her, his eyes became darker again. She could feel his eyes on her skin. While all he could think about was how old she was. She isn’t starstruck by him like a 16 year old would be, clearly had some experience with men, but when the men at the party offered her a drink she declined.  

“What’s on your mind?” She asked while he kept staring. “How old are you?” - “How dare you ask such a thing to a lady!” She pretended to grab her pearls. Not realising that gesture made his eyes fall on her chest.  

“18, 19 ?” He looked back up. “20” she answered, Y/N could have sworn she heard the wheels in his head turning. “Why?” He placed her book back where he found it. “You want the truth?”  

Ben turned back to her, seeing her closing the bedroom door, placing her back to it. Her eyes filled with the same lust he had hours ago. “Please enlighten me.” she answered biting her lip.  

In a few long strikes he closed the space between them. Making her stand in between him and the door, looking up at those beautiful eyes again.  

His hand moved through her hair, the other hand gripped her hip tight. “I feel like we have been avoiding this tension all night long.” He kissed her soft on her right side of her neck. “But then again you are such a tease aren’t you.” another kiss on her left side of her neck.  

His husky voice, his touch made her almost moan, so hard trying to avoid looking desperate. Normally she would be the one to drive a man crazy, she knew what they liked but now she needs to find her cool. Her eyes closed for a second when his lips kissed her.  

She felt his tongue touch at the bottom of her neck, in between collarbone, making her head fall back, closing her eyes. Slowly licking, caressing, moving its way up to her chin. Her hands moved to the back of his head.  Feeling his locks in between her fingers, softly scratching. While his lips moved to that one spot behind her ear.  

"Soldier boy” She breathed out. “Ben.” he moved his head to look in her eyes. “It’s Ben.” He waited for an answer “Y/N” she said before pulling him close to her body. Her lips hungry kissing, sucking at his.  

While his hands moved over her body, trying to map out her curves, her weak spots. As the air began to fill with the sound of heavy breaths and soft moans Y/N felt his dick growing in his pants. His hand trying to move under her tight skirt.  

He felt resistance of the fabric, so instead of tugging and struggling he ripped her skirt apart, from the bottom up. Leaving her gasping in his mouth. His finger found their way to her clothed slit, feeling how wet he made her.  

“F-f-fuck honey, so hard to get yet so wet for me.” he dropped to his knees “If I had known, I would have fucked you hours ago.” He pulled down her panties, two fingers slide in easy, while his lips and tongue played her clit.  

"Oh Ben!” those words sounded like a prayer to him. “Tell me you’re not one of those shy girls. Afraid to scream my name.” His thumb moved over sensitive but. Giving him the answer he needed. “That’s my girl.”  

His mouth kept working on her clit while his fingers kept curling and pushing inside her, making Ben earning her moans.  His free hand moved over to her breast, her hand covered his, accouraging to knead it. Ben felt her hips buck, her legs started to tremble and right before he pushed her over the edge he stopped.  

Y/N gave him an annoyed look. He cleaned his mouth with the back of his hand, grinning while his thumb moved over her soft red stained lips. In this moment she was glad she had taken off the lipstick she had to wear to the party.  

She kissed his thumb, holding his wrist in her hands. Moving from one finger to the others, taking the two fingers he used on her. She put them one by one in her mouth, she could taste what was left of her on them, tongue moving over his fingers. Pulling them slowly out of her mouth in a sucking motion while looking at him.    

“Here I thought you were a nice girl. Searching for a nice, decent young man, like that bartender, downstairs.” He said while she dropped to her knees to undo his pants. He felt her fingers and nails move over his bulge before she hooked her fingers around his underwear. Releasing his fully grown erection. “But let’s face it.” He grabbed her cheek, making her look up at him. “You want a man that fucks you till you scream his name.”  

Those words made her even wetter than she thought was possible. She opened her mouth, taking as much as she could. “That’s it...” Ben moaned when her tongue moved over the vein underneath his shaft. With every bob of her head, she tried to take more of him. While Ben tried to focus on her mouth, but he heard footsteps, when they stopped outside her door, he held her head still for a second.  

All though he didn’t want her mouth to stop he did pull out right before they heard a knock on the door. “Y/N?”, it was her sister. “Y/N?” she tried to open the door she had locked. “Yeah, what is it?” - “Nothing special, dad just wanted to make sure you were still here.” - “Ok, goodnight.”  

Ben took the time to undress her while she dealt with her sister. Kissing every part of her that he discovered. Determine not to be interfered. He walked her back to her bed, nodding to lay down. “Legs wide open sweetheart.” The nickname gave her goosebumps.  She watched him taking off the rest of his clothes, while she waited for him.  

“Ben please... hurry.” - “I love how you’re already begging for me. Do it again.” He said while she saw his hand tug lazily on his dick. His eyes roaming over her body, taking in every inch. “Ben, please... please fuck me already.”  

He pulled her closer to him by her ankles. Placing himself in between her legs, Ben’s thrusts started of slow, he felt resistance from her body, clearly not used to his size. Y/N felt the sting, making her eyes water. “Relax sweetheart.” 

After a few minutes the stinging pain changed into pleasure. Making her moan Ben’s name over and over in some sort of prayer. “Harder” managed to say between breaths. “Tell me what you need sweetheart.” 

“H-harder Ben, ... Please fuck me harder.” He placed a hand on her neck, not fully kneading but making her open her eyes, looking right into his.  “Want me to fuck you till you can’t walk sweetheart? Is that it?”  

All she could do was nod, being mesmerised by him. He turned her around without too much effort. His hands moved over her ass to her hips, pulling her up. She repositioned herself onto her hands and knees.  

She felt Ben move the tip of his dick through her folds before pushing inside. No warning, no teasing. Ben’s large hands pulled on her hips, trying to get as deep as possible inside her. Hearing her hiss out loud “F-fuck”, he kneaded the flesh of her ass, before hitting it with the palm of his hand. Earning a yelp from her.  

He felt her body giving in to the pleasure, unable to focus on anything else than him and thank God she did, her orgasm triggered his own. The moans and growls that came out of them sounded primal. Ben was always cautious with his one nightstands, but this time he didn’t care if it was safe or not when he came inside her. 

He dropped on the bed next to her, while they both breathed fast trying to come back to this earth. Y/N started to hear the sounds of her surrounding again. Only now realising she had only heard his words and moans, anyone could have walked pasted them without her knowing it. Imagen her relieve hearing the party hasn’t ended yet. “You should go back.” She said looking over at him.  

He clearly didn’t expect her to say that, given the confused look on his face. “You are a famous supe, they will be missing you by now.” She explained herself. Ben lifted himself on his elbow. “You know, no woman ever asked me to leave.” She smiled “I’m not every woman.”  

“Let me guess they beg you to stay the night and you sneak out by morning?” Not confessing she wanted him to stay. Stubborn as she is. “Something like that.” His green eyes had softened, roaming over her face again. What is he looking for she thought. 

“Ok, I'll leave...” His hand moved over her stomach, between her breasts to her neck, lingering there. “If, you tell me where I can find you.” Y/N thought about his words for a second, did he just really asked her to see her again?  

“4 more weeks in the boarding school a town over, then I’ll be traveling the world.” His thumb moved over her bottom lip. His eyes looking how he caresses them. “So, I have 4 weeks.”  - “To what?”  

He smirked, “You’ll see.” He said while he lifted himself out of bed, putting on his clothes. With his hand on the door, he looked back at her, still laying down in the bed. Her body partly covered with the white blanket, one leg out, showing and her hair a wild mess.  

Ben’s lip twitched at the sight of her, instead of looking over the moon she looks him dead in the eyes. He knew from the start she wasn’t what he was used to, but damn, she drives him insane. She had triggered his interest early this night, but little did he know he would be obsessed with her at the end of it.  

 --  

The next week Y/N stood in her uniform at the gates of the school when the principal Mrs. Pierce called out to her. “Miss Y/L/N, please follow me to my office.” Her friends looked at her while she shrugged her shoulders. Usually she had a pretty good idea of what she walks into.  

When they walked into the office, she noticed a man standing in the corner of it. “Ah miss Y/N take a seat.” She looked at the principal. “Am I in trouble?” - “Not this time.” - “You have... met my boss this weekend at one of your father’s soirees.” The man said clearly trying to choose his words wisely.  

“Y-Your boss? Excuse me sir, but I have talked to a lot of people that night. Can you be more specific?” The man looked over to Mrs. Pierce and back to Y/N. “Soldier boy.” He added. Y/N’s face couldn’t hold back her surprise. Feeling Mrs. Pierce looking at her.  

“I, I-I have met him yes.” - “He would like to see you again.” Y/N noticed the dirty look the man gave her, looking her up and down, noticing the bruise she tried to cover. He clearly knew how they ‘met’, probably thinking her being a teenage slut, trying to find a way of getting famous.  

Y/N got up, “Tell mister Soldier boy if he wants to see me, he can find me here. I’m not the type of woman who runs to a man on his command. Have a nice day sir.” She turned to Mrs. Pierce who was clearly content with the “progress” she thought Y/N made. “Ma'am if you don’t mind, I would like to continue class.”  - “Very well.” she nodded.  

On her way to class Y/N kept thinking about the conversation but mostly about the night with Ben. Wondering why he wanted to see her again, he probably can have any woman he wants. “Y/N!” Her principal walked up to her. “Your... encounter with Mr. Soldier boy didn’t incur the injury, did it?”  

Y/N looked at her hand, “Oh no, he didn’t, this was an accident ma’am.” - “Ok, well, if there is anything that need to be said, even in a confidential matter, you know where my office is.” Wow, Mrs Pierce was really worried about her.  

The next weeks went by smoothly, her friends tried to find out why she was called to the office, but she gave a vague answer. By the last week of school Soldier Boy was already a nice memory of a party she wanted to forget. She needed to keep focussing on the future and the last week of boarding school. 

Y/N was the only one whose parents didn’t attend the graduation. But that wouldn't stop her from being happy today. She could finally spread her wings and leave this place behind her. When she heard her name, she walked up front to collect her degree. Noticing one man standing, she didn’t have to take a long look to recognise that grin.  

Her heart started to beat fast, her neck covered in goosebumps, how is it possible that a man can give her this kind of feelings. She kept looking behind her when she took her seat. “What’s wrong?” One of her friends asked. “Nothing.” She said way to quick. Her friend looked behind them not seeing why Y/N was so nervous.  

After the ceremony there was a drink, organised for the senior students, parents and their family.  The twin sisters, Y/N got friends with over the years, invited her to meet their parent. “Where are your mom and dad, dear?” Their mother asked. “I afraid they couldn’t make it.” She smiled her well-practised smile. 

“There she is!”  

Y/N recognised the deep warm voice immediately. Before she could turn around, she felt his hand on her lower back. “Congrats sweetheart.” He whispered in her ear, just loud enough for the people around you to hear. Then planted a small peck on her cheek. 

Play it cool Y/N, play it cool, Be cool... She looked over her shoulder, “I thought I spotted you in the crowd.” - “Wouldn’t want to miss your big day, honey.” his hand moved over her cheek “I see that ugly bruise healed well.” Y/N felt her cheeks glow when she saw the twins and her parents look flabbergasted.  

“Right, meet my, eh f-friend...” Y/N’s voice cracked “Soldier boy, nice to meet you sir, ma’am.” He filled in, shaking their hand. “And these are your friends I presume.” He asked Y/N while flashing them a heart stopping smile.  

After a little friendly conversation, with questions that Ben probably heard a thousand times before, he turned to Y/N. “You want another drink, sweetheart?” pinching her hip. “No, but a word, in private, would be great.” She flashed him fake smile.  

Ben followed her inside the school. “What are you doing here Ben?” - “I told you I’d find you didn’t I.” - “Took you long enough.” She crossed her arms. “To be honest. I didn’t like your response to my man.” She huffed. “I usually don’t go running around to the girls I sleep with.” He said. “Well, that’s tough, I had you in my bed didn’t I, not your man.”  

“So stone cold. I don’t like my woman like that.” - “Good thing I’m not yours then.” He grabbed the back of her head, his thumb on her cheekbone, walking her towards the wall, making her stand in between his body and the wall behind her. “Listen sweetheart, I’m having a lot of patience with you. Reject me and I won’t come back this time.”  

Ben saw her eyes change, he’d expect her to be angry maybe even a little scared of the way he handled her, but no, her eyes softened, he noticed how her body leaned towards him. “You think you’re having patience... Clearly, you’re not that into me than.”  

Y/N tried to walk away, Ben held her back, all though everything about his posture said anger, his eyes screamed helplessness. “Don’t.” - “Tell me why not Ben, give me one, good, reason.” His mouth opened just to close again. “We used each other for pleasure. Nothing more.”  

In reaction Ben grabbed her tight and pushed her back to the wall, his lips consumed hers. His hands moved over to her ribs, pulling his body against hers. He felt her resist but by the time his tongue asked permission he felt her body melting into his.  

Their breath deepened within seconds, Ben pulled back keeping only a small space between their faces. “Tell me Y/N, honestly, is this just pleasure?” - “Shut up.” She sighs while pulling his body close to hers, closing the space between their lips.  

Until they were disturbed by the sound of a clearing throat, “Miss Y/L/N, your father is here. He would like to see you.” - “I’ll be right there Mrs. Pierce.” She felt the heat on her cheeks rise. “So cute when you blush.” Ben teased letting his lips touch her neck one last time before he lets go of her.  

“I had no idea he would be here today.” She said while they walked through the crowd, seeing him talking to the twins’ parents. Ben walked beside her keeping his hand on her back. “Father, how nice of you to come.”  

“Of course.” he pulled her in an awkward hug. “Ben.” - “Thomas.” Both men greeted each other like real alfas.  “I had no idea you would come.” Y/N said to lift the tension. “Well, I’m glad I did.” He looked Ben up and down.  

After a really weird and awkward situation where both Ben and Thomas kept giving each other dirty looks and the other parents trying to have a normal conversation, Thomas spoke.  

“Right, Y/N I think it’s time to go home.” - “I’m sorry but I’m not going.” - “What do you mean?” Y/N took a deep breath “I’m not coming home anymore. It’s time for me to move on, see the world. But I might start with New York first.” She said looking at Ben. His brow lifted.  

Her dad nodded, clearly not liking her answer, but what was he supposed to do against Ben, who after all this time still hasn’t lifted his hand of her back.  

-- 

Ben and Y/N few over to New York, he didn’t want her to stay with him at Vought. They really didn’t like the fact that their most eligible bachelor supe had fallen for a young woman. Keeping her in a penthouse would be more enjoyable for her.  

Y/N wouldn’t be Y/N if she didn’t rebel a little. Ben had told her he wasn’t going to make it to her tonight, so she found a way to make it up to his room. Turned out ‘his man’ she met at school weeks earlier was his security guy. Who let her in his room.  

A little ironic a superhero had a security guy, she thought when she found out. 

Ben walked in, angry about his day, undid his protection gear and shirt. He sat down on the edge of the bed, picked up the phone on the nightstand, trying to call Y/N. “I don’t think she is going to answer.” Y/N said crawling into bed behind him.  

Her hands moved to his shoulders, giving him a little massage while her lips whispered in his ear. “I thought you could use some company.” Ben looked over his shoulder, seeing Y/N wearing the lingerie he bought a few days ago.  

“Hmm, that colour really suits you sweetheart.” his hand grabbed behind him, kneading in her thigh. “You know when I asked for clothes, I expected a little more... coverage.” she laughed. “Why?” Ben’s voice deepened.  

“So you have to take them off again.” She whispered, biting his ear.  

He stood up and turned around, towering over her, seeing how she sat on her knees in bed, looking at him with her doe eyes. “I missed you baby.” His lips curled by the sound of her needy voice. 

He pushed her down and crawls on top of her. She lifted her leg around his hip, his large hand moved over her, from knee to hip to her breast. Mesmerised by her, he locked eyes again.  

“Woman... you’re going to be the end of me.” 

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