#sorry if this was against their boundaries

[romanteacism]

Knight Aemond x Princess Reader New

Synopsis: Everything between you and Ser Aemond was now new, but always natural. Warnings: None (yet), Aemond and Princess Secret Relationship, Fluff PREVIOUS PART

You tasted like the berries you had during tea time. So sweet. Aemond never cared for sweets; he found them too addicting, so he had managed to control himself when consuming them. However, with you, gods— he didn’t think he could ever have enough. Was it too soon to say he was addicted? By just one taste of you, he was certain he could never live without it. Now that his lips had known the pressure of yours— now that he had known your taste; he could never go back to simply wondering and dreaming about it. With just one taste, you had made him a man obsessed. 

Aemond ignored all his sensibilities and cupped your cheek, deepening your kiss— pulling you impossibly closer to him and seemingly never wanting to let you go; how could he? When he felt your soft, plush lips stagger, Aemond knew he must part for you to catch your breath, controlling himself even though he wanted to keep your lips against his. He opened his eye, the image of your parted, swollen lips— your flushed face and wide eyes forever engraved in his memory. You were not his first kiss, and he cursed himself as to why he had sullied his lips with others when, all the while, yours were waiting for him. 

“Oh gods…” you said in shock as to what you had done. You could not even look into Ser Aemond’s eye— too scared of what his reaction would be. Indeed, he was scandalized— perplexed at what you had done. You had crossed all boundaries— you had passed the point of no return, and though you yourself had no wish to go back— there was no regret; you knew your knight, who would forever hold himself in his duty would not take your actions well. “I…I’m sorry,” You say,  discombobulated; you did not even wait for his reply, for you quickly ran away, leaving your knight confused and flushed.

“Oh gods, oh gods, oh gods,” You muttered as you entered your chambers, humiliated and ashamed for what you had done. You covered your face with your hands, the feel and taste of your knight still prominent on your lips. He tasted like mint and a bitterness you did not mind. You breathed heavily as you heard the clank of his armor from the other side of the door. You bit your lip, already deciding in yourself that you would hide in your chambers once more, unwilling to face the consequences of your actions. 

Aemond stood at his post, knees weak as his mind recalled your kiss. He turned towards the door, having the urge to enter your chambers and confront you. How could you just kiss him and run? Had he done something wrong? Perhaps you did not enjoy it as much as he did, or maybe he accidentally bit your lip? He did not know anymore. All he knew was this was the first time his body had reacted to such a kiss, and he could only hope that you felt the same. 

When night came, you had not left your chambers. Aemond could barely hear you. Usually, he would hear you speaking to yourself or Theodore, but not once had he heard a word leave your lips; the only indication that you were still there were your quiet footsteps as you paced around your chambers. 

As Aemond thought about your actions once more, he began to wonder what had led you to do such a thing. Why would you kiss him? What was the reason for you to bestow upon him your first kiss? There was just one apparent reason he could think of. You kissed him because you wanted to. You kissed him because you wanted him. Aemond was left overwhelmed with such a line of reasoning. Had you fallen for him as he had fallen for you? Did you truly want him as much as he wanted you? Aemond sighed heavily, his mind running and jumping to conclusions that had no concrete explanation— but he convinced himself that your kiss was a reason enough for him to believe— to hope that you held affection for him as well.

You paced in your room, your fingers playing with your bottom lip as you tried to think of a way to proceed. Surely, Ser Aemond would want to be removed from his station— that he cannot be your sworn protector after you had shown such actions that crossed all boundaries. You paled at the thought. You did not think of the consequences! You have no wish for Ser Aemond to leave your side, but what else could he do after you had kissed him? You had placed his station at peril, and you had laid yourself to scandal. When a knock sounded out, you paled as the knock was the familiar pattern of your knight’s. You stayed silent and held your breath, hoping he would think you were already abed.

“I can see your shadow by the door, princess,” You hear his muffled voice declare, and you quietly groan as you have no escape. You breathed in heavy breaths as you gathered all your courage to speak, “C… co— come in,” You squeaked, and Ser Aemond slowly entered your chambers. There was a tense moment of silence that was then broken by your rambling and profusely apologizing for your actions. “I’m sorry! I…I think I was going crazy— and… and I had no intention of offending you an—“ Aemond pursed his lips, a wide smile wanting to escape as you went on and on with your apologies, your eyes wide and cheeks flushed as your hands moved with each of the multitude words that left your lips. 

“I’m sorry! I— please, you don’t have to leave your station… no one needs to know what had happened. And I swear it would never happe—“ Aemond shook his head and captured your lips before you could finish your sentence because he would never forgive himself if you made such promises. You were taken by shock for a moment as you felt his thin lips against yours again, but as he cupped your cheek, you turned lax and let out a sigh as your eyes fluttered to a close. Was it too soon that you were already addicted to his lips? You always thought that your favorite thing would be tasting the sugar on your lips each time you had your little sweet treats, but by just the second taste of Ser Aemond, you knew it had been dethroned— nothing could compare to him. 

When your lips parted, you looked upon him in shock and confusion, your mind trying to find an answer as to why he would kiss you, and there was only one answer you could think of. You breathed in a shallow breath, “Do you… do you like me as well?” You questioned, fearing the answer as there was a possibility he could say no. 

Aemond smiled and tucked in a loose lock of your hair, letting his fingers brush your soft, warm cheek. “It’s impossible not to,” he whispered softly, watching as the scarlet on your cheeks turned maroon. “Really?” You asked in disbelief as you still thought your affections for him were unrequited. “Why?” You could not help but ask— still finding it hard to believe that he would be attracted to you as well, especially as he had seen you in all of your states. “Why?” Aemond breathed out a laugh as his other hand cupped your cheek as well. “Oh, princess… because you are kind and genuine— you are selfless and caring— because… you are you— that is reason enough for me.” You bit the insides of your cheeks as you had no words— your insides were overwhelmed with further affection for Ser Aemond that all you could do was kiss again.

“You know, I really tried not to like you— but it truly is impossible,” He added as your lips parted, a smile on his lips as you circled your arms around his neck. Your lips agape at his confession. “Was that why you were so mean to me before?!” You gasped as you had thought it was your fault— that you had done something that made your knight hold such bitterness. Aemond only shrugged, “Now I’m starting to wonder why I like you,” you muttered in tease, and Aemond chuckled, pinching your side in tease as well. You laughed and pressed yourself further upon his frame, his hold on your cheeks lowering to your waist. “What now?” You asked after a short moment of silence, savoring the way he held you. “Nothing— we just stay as we are, by each other’s side,” He said and placed a kiss on the top of your head as you let him hold you for a few moments more. 

You breathed in deeply. You have always wondered about this day— when you would finally find someone you would want. You imagined that there would be great anticipation— fireworks accompanied by the loudness of the world, the erratic beating of your heart— and your nerves consuming you. You thought you would finally get that confession during a rainstorm or a heated argument; nothing about how this had all transpired. Everything was calm with Ser Aemond— almost anti-climactic, and you knew you would prefer stillness more than uproar. His love was silent, and you would gladly listen for it. 

“What did you do last night?” You almost choked on your tea as your brother asked the question. You blinked for a moment, resisting to look upon your knight whose lips had met yours countless times last night. “Uh… I was tired. I went straight to bed,” You lied, feeling an inkling of guilt as you were not accustomed to offering your brother full lies— you’d often fib but never lie. “Oh, well, you do look rested— though a bit flushed,” Your brother shrugged and went on with his meal. You sat quietly, trying to reign in the blush on your cheeks and the smile that wanted to slip your lips as your mind kept replaying the scenes with Aemond (He insisted you called him without titles when it was only the two of you.) holding you and kissing your lips. 

“When did you realize you liked me?” You suddenly questioned when it was only you and Aemond in the gardens. You hear him cough, seemingly caught off guard by your question. You smiled widely as you turned to face him, a pinkness in the tip of his ears that you would consider his version of a blush. “Uh…I don’t— I’m not quite certain,” He said, genuinely uncertain. He could recall the exact moment when he realized he had fallen for you but not the moment you questioned, which led him to think, when did he exactly start to like you? He could recall his first days, trying impeccably hard to dislike you, to hold animosity that was not backed by any support to dislike you— but he could not remember the exact moment when he finally started to let go of that forced animosity. 

You hummed and nodded, no longer prying and forcing him to think about your question. “And you? When did you realize that you were harboring feelings for your knight?” He returned the question, biting the insides of his cheek at how quickly a blush came to your face. He moved from his station behind you and stood to where you looked ahead, enjoying further the image of you sitting on your chair in the gardens, the flowers that surround you making you look more ethereal in his eyes.

“Your night off,” You answered, watching as Aemond frowned in confusion. You’ve always liked— you’ve liked him for the longest time, but not until recently did you realize that you loved him, an emotion so great that you could not yet share with him. “What?” Aemond questioned, surprised as you knew the exact moment. You shrugged, “I uh… I know I said I sneaked off into the city to watch a show— and that is true, yes, but… I was hoping to run into you, in which I did.” You smiled as the pinkness on the tips of his ears furthered. Aemond bit his lip and looked around the gardens, his heartbeat spreading throughout his whole body at your confession. “So you have been pinning for me this whole time?” He asked quietly, a further feeling of affection for you surging through him. “As if you haven’t,” You retaliated, twiddling with your fingers as you felt your stomach flip when Aemond breathed out a laugh and nodded slowly. 

You parted your lips to ask another question, enamored with the idea that both you and Aemond had been longing and yearning for each other but had stayed silent until either of you could deny your attraction, but the sound of a cat’s whine caught your attention. You frowned as you thought it was Theodore, but you had left him sleeping in your chambers. You sat straighter and saw a ball of white fur by the foot of your knight, the feline nuzzling its face on your knight's leg as it purred. “Look! A kitten! Pick it up,” You said to Ser Aemond as you as well stood in excitement. Aemond looked upon it warily, not certain how to react as he was accustomed to Theodore’s animosity and indifference towards him. Aemond slowly did as you told, and you huddled by his side to have a clearer view of the cat with white fur and sapphire-like eyes. You gently petted its head and assessed it for its gender whilst in the stiff arms of Aemond. 

“Aww… she likes you! I feared that cats are indifferent to you, seeing how you interact with Theodore,” You mumbled and scratched the head of the feline that just appeared. “We should keep her,” You said as Aemond’s arms were growing tired at how he held the cat an arm’s length away from him. “We should?” He questioned as the cat stared at him. “Yes! She clearly likes you!” You said, and the feline only meowed as you took her in your arms as you sensed Aemond was growing uncomfortable. “What should we name her?” You questioned and returned to your seat and set the cat on the table, offering her some berries in your hands that she readily nibbled upon. 

“I… I don’t know,” He muttered, mesmerized by you, who petted the feline with so much love and adoration, though you had only met it. “Surely you have a name that you like! Come now, name her!” You urged and turned to Aemond, who could only stare. He was drawing a blank— the only name he truly liked was yours and perhaps Seraphina, the name you planned to give your future daughter, but other than that, he could not think of anything. “I’m not good with naming, princess,” He said quietly as passersby started to appear. You pouted and continued to pet the cat, thinking of a name that would match Theodore’s. “Hm… what about Sapphira? Her eyes look like sapphires, do they not?” You asked, hoping your knight would agree. Aemond felt a small smile twitch on his lips as you looked upon him expectantly, “Then Sapphira it is,” He agreed, grateful to witness as a wide smile come to your face. 

“Go on, play with her,” You urged Theodore as you returned to your chambers to have the two cats acquainted. Aemond stood by the door and observed you earnestly try to make both of the cats play with one another. However, Theodore only rested on your lap, staring at Sapphira, who played with a ball of yarn with indifference. “Theo, come now, we got you a playmate!” You say, talking to the cat as if it were an actual human being. You turned to Ser Aemond, and at the mention of him, Theodore suddenly hissed, surprising you. “That’s quite rude,” You chastised your cat but still soothingly brushed his fur. “I still do not know why Theodore does not like you, but Sapphira was quickly taken by you,” You say, and Aemond tensed, the memory of what he did for Theodore to dislike him replaying in his mind. 

Aemond stared down as Sapphira came to him, urging him to join you in the sitting area where you sat. You smiled as Aemond threaded closer to you, moving from where you sat to make room for Ser Aemond. You smiled as Theodore was in your lap, and Sapphira jumped onto Aemond’s. You glanced about the room and saw the reflection of the two of you in a mirror. Sat next to each other with cats on your laps, the damned gap between dissolved, and you hoped you would never appear again. 

“Aemond,” you called as he cautiously petted the fur of Sapphira. “Yes, princess?” He asked, turning to you. “I uh… I really like you,” You confessed the obvious. A blush once again creeps up to your cheeks. Aemond bit his lip, feeling like a boy again, which was odd because he didn’t think he ever felt like a boy, but you had that effect on him. “Good. But you must know that I like you more,” He stated, and your smile only widened, and you could not help but kiss him once again. It was a rather odd feeling— kissing someone. You never thought about how it would feel or how you would react when doing it, but though the sensation felt new, it felt natural— too natural, if you’re being honest. Kissing him felt so easy as if you were just breathing. It was exciting, yes, but most importantly, it felt pure— instinctive, as if you were born to kiss his lips. And perhaps you were. 

[obsessedwhyyes]

Chasing Lightning

Summary: You've spent all day teasing, tempting, taunting - you've really tested Astarion's patience this time. But pushing his boundaries is your favourite past time. Now, here you are, over his knee, about to receive the punishment you longed for, all according to your devious plan. Not that you'd ever admit it, of course.

Rating: Explicit Word Count: 2003 Pairing: Astarion x Fem!Reader Content: Shameless smut, bratty reader, Dom!Astarion, spanking, light BDSM elements, rough sex, PiV.

Gif by silverformymonsters on Tumblr!

A/N: This, uh... Yeah, no, this is just shameless smut. I am so sorry. Behold, my spanking fic, written in a moment of madness.

You lay over his knee, eager, anticipating - a willing sacrifice on the altar of his desires. Each trail of his fingertips across the bare skin of your backside is a promise of what is to come.

You deserve this, you think to yourself. All your teasing, all your temptations. The way you pressed yourself against him when no one was looking, your face a pretty picture of faux innocence; the way you swayed your hips as you sauntered ahead of him, glancing back to meet his eyes, knowing they would be heavy with that predatorial hunger which ignites the flames of arousal deep in your belly. All part of your plan, which he is more than willing to oblige.

You hear Astarion’s voice, dark and dripping with honey.

“I propose a game, darling. A test of your intuition, shall we say?” You hear the wicked smile in his voice and it sends shivers of sweet anticipation coursing through your body. “I'll think of a number, one through ten, and you'll have to guess it based on how hard I spank you. Guess wrong, and I'll spank you again - the same strength - until you guess correctly. Understand?”

“Yes,” you breathe, wilfully yielding to him . There’s an intoxicating power in surrender. Your submission is a choice, freely given, and that makes it all the more potent.

In yielding, you become more. More alive, more aware, more you than you've ever been. The world narrows to the point of contact where his hand meets your skin. You are the ocean, and Astarion the moon, pulling you into new shapes with the inexorable force of the tide.

“Very good,” he purrs. His thumb rubs the gentlest of circles on your wrists as he binds them behind you with his spare hand. “Of course, if it becomes too much, just say the word. I can be merciful… on occasion.”

The game begins, a dance of unseen touches and breathless anticipations. Astarion’s hand hovers above you, its presence like the charge before a lightning strike.

“Let’s start with a simple one, shall we?”

His touch against your bare arse is a whisper at first, cool fingertips ghosting across your skin. More caress than slap. You shiver, every nerve alight with anticipation.

“One,” you murmur, more exhale than voice.

Astarion’s chuckle vibrates through you, a low rumble that you feel more than hear as you bury your face into the fabric of his shirt. “Oh, my dear. We’re barely getting started.”

The next strike lands with purpose - a sharp, precise sensation that blooms across your skin. It’s not quite pain, not quite pleasure, but something exquisitely in between that draws a gasp from your lips.

“Four?” you venture.

“Warm, but not quite.”

He strikes - the same strength once more, as promised.

“Three!” you gasp, revelation and pleasure mingling in your voice.

“Good girl,” Astarion praises and gods, how those words affect you. They sink into your skin, sweeter than honey, headier than wine. You crave his approval like air, each word of praise stoking the flames of your arousal higher.

The dance continues, each strike a new verse in this poem written on your skin.

Smack.

Five is a starburst of sensation. You feel this once, twice, three times until you finally guess correctly.

Smack.

Seven lands with the force of a thunderclap, reverberating through your body and leaving you trembling in its wake.

Smack.

Nine leaves you gasping, teetering on the knife-edge between pleasure and pain. The sting melts into a deep, throbbing warmth that pulses in time with your racing heart.

With each strike, each caress, the heat builds, a delicious tension coiling tighter in your core.

Four. Two. Six. Six again. Eight.

You find yourself arching slightly into his touch, eager for more, your body's reactions beyond your control.

Then, finally, comes ten.

It cracks across your flesh like lightning splitting the night sky, a white-hot streak of sensation that sears itself into your very soul. For a moment, the world whites out, every nerve ending alight with electric sensation. You cry out as the sensations overwhelm you, the number torn from your lips. The pain is exquisite, pushing you to the very limits of your endurance.

In the aftermath, you float in a sea of endorphins, your body humming with the echoes of Astarion's touch. Each point of contact throbs in time with your racing heart, a map of exquisite sensation etched onto your inflamed skin.

His cool hand soothes over the heated skin. The contrast sends fresh shivers through you, and you moan gently in response, despite yourself. Your skin is hypersensitive, your mind a mess of exhilaration and desire, eager for more, more, more.

Through the haze of lust, Astarion's voice chimes clear. “My, my. Such enthusiasm,” he purrs. “Tell me, darling, did you spend all day dreaming of this? Because I certainly did… in excruciating detail.”

You turn on his lap to look up into his eyes, suppressing a smile. “Who, me? I would never!”

Astarion's eyebrow arches, smirking at your obvious lie. “Is that so? So the way you rubbed yourself against me all morning like a worg in heat was just a coincidence, was it?”

You can't help but giggle at his accusation, which only seems to fuel his amusement.

“Do you have any idea how long you left me aching today?”

“I'm sorry,” you pout.

“Sorry who?”

“I’m sorry, Astarion.”

You don't mean it. And he knows it.

You could be good - a sweet, obedient little thing. But to be bad - to challenge him, to tease him, to test his patience until he finally brings you to heel - why, that's just so much more fun.

“That’s better,” he coos, his voice and his praise caressing you like silk along your skin as he gazes back at you, expression equal parts warmth and something much darker - hungrier - beneath. “Cheeky little pup."

He pauses, and the air becomes heavy with anticipation.

“But I'm not done with you yet.”

He rises and shifts you in a blur of motion, bending you over the edge of the bed, leaving your face buried in the soft sheets. Suddenly, you're exposed to him, your arousal on full display, and you feel the air against your hypersensitive flesh. Yet, in this moment, there is no place you would rather be than at his mercy. You are eager, dripping with expectation.

In the midst of your lustful haze, you hear the rustling of clothes - the familiar sound of his trousers unlaced. It sends your imagination soaring. Your core aches with what is to come.

But Astarion, the cruel man he is, doesn't enter you. Not yet.

Instead, you feel the head of his cock slide maddeningly, agonisingly slowly up the slit of you. You feel him become slick with your arousal as he slides down, and back up your slit once more, just barely skimming your clit, which throbs desperately with need. Such delicate, teasing touches - enough to drive you to madness.

“Do you want it?” He purrs.

“Mmhm,” you mumble pathetically into the fabric.

“Tell me, love.”

“I want–”

He inserts himself before you finish, colliding with you with the force of planets, stealing the breath from your lungs. The union is electric, a completion so intense that it borders on painful.

His desperation is evident, at odds with the image of restraint he was attempting to conjure as he ruts into you with wild abandon. His hands are everywhere at once, desperate and searching. Your own fingers claw at the fabric of the bedsheets, mindlessly, drunk on the sensation of him.

Astarion’s hands soon settle on your hips, pulling you to him as you collide again, again, again. You aid him, pushing yourself against his hips with each thrust, needing to be closer, always closer. You move together in a frenzy, chasing that elusive peak with single-minded determination. The world beyond ceases to exist; there is only this moment, this need, this all-consuming desire.

Breaths come in ragged gasps and are punctuated by moans and whispered pleas. “More,” you beg; “please,” you exclaim, though you're not sure how he could possibly get any closer, any deeper within you.

You feel his hand slide beneath you, and you lift your hips to greet him. Your throbbing clit welcomes his expert touch as he begins to unravel you as easily as he picks locks. He rubs circles around the bud, gently, in stark contrast to his wild rutting - indicative of the tiniest threads of self-restraint which remain within him, spared only to bring you to your peak. But gods, in the heat of the moment, you are especially sensitive, and his touch quickly brings forth rippling waves of sensation which threaten to overwhelm you. Your body twitches of its own accord and you know your climax fast approaches.

Your own voice surprises you, high and desperate. Soft whimpers escape your lips, growing in intensity and frequency as the tension builds.

Behind you, Astarion's sounds are a primal counterpoint to your own. His usual smooth tones are roughened by desire, a gravelly undertone that sends shivers down your spine. Low growls rumble from his chest - they speak of a hunger barely contained.

As you both near the edge, your voices mingle and intertwine. The sounds blur together - gasps and moans, growls and whimpers. The volume rises, unchecked and unashamed. You care not who hears you now.

It is you who first reaches the point of no return. A cry escapes your lips, raw and primal. Your body quakes, and pleasure crashes over you, a torrent of sensation that drenches every nerve ending. You're swept away in the deluge, currents of bliss pulling you under, spinning you in their depths.

His release soon follows and, although you don't see him, you feel the intensity in the air, in his increasingly erratic pounding, in his breaths. A growl rumbles from deep in his chest, vibrating through your bodies like rolling thunder. His grip on you tightens, fingers digging into your flesh as he releases into you, claiming you as part of his tempest.

He collapses against your back. His weight is solid and grounding like the calm after the storm. He pants slightly, aftershocks rippling through you both like distant thunder.

Slowly, the world comes back into focus.

Astarion's weight shifts behind you as his arm drapes lazily over your wrist. You feel his cool lips brush against your ear, and he nips it gently.

“If I didn’t know any better,” he muses, “I would say you enjoy being punished.”

You can’t help but laugh, the sound still slightly breathless. “If that’s what I get for misbehaving, I might have to do it more often.”

"Careful what you wish for, darling," he murmurs, and you can hear the smirk in his voice. "I have a whole arsenal of 'punishments' at my disposal. This was merely a taste."

“Is that a promise or a threat?”

“Why not both?” he replies, his tone rich with suggestion. “I do so enjoy keeping you on your toes.”

As he rises to his feet and helps you to yours, he kisses you, his gentleness a stark contrast from your earlier activities. Where there was an inferno, now there is now the warming comfort of the hearth. Where there was urgency, now there is patience. Eventually, you find yourselves settled once more, cocooned in the soft comfort of the bed. The lingering scent of your encounter mingles with the fresh smell of clean linens, a heady reminder of the night's activities.

“Alright?” Astarion’s voice is soft.

You nod, words unnecessary in this moment.

As you nestle closer to him, a contented sigh escapes your lips. Being bad certainly has its thrills. But these moments, wrapped in Astarion’s arms - these are treasures in their own right. The mischievous spark in you knows you'll seek out more opportunities to 'misbehave', but for now, you revel in this gentle aftermath, every bit as intoxicating as the storm that preceded it.

No Pressure Tags: @silverfangmarks @roguishcat @sparrowbard @chonkercatto

Masterlist can be found here.

[trippinsorrows]

through your eyes + au 2

authors: well....this is happening. don't ask. we're just going with it. gotta read part one before consuming this.

don't know who's interested, so only tagging the people i know have read and would be okay with a tag!

taglist: @sayyestoheav3nn @fearlesschimera @annfg8 @zoeyybellex3 @cyberdejos2

Solana never expected to see Roman Reigns again. Not in person, at least. That up close, especially.

It was a one off. A fluke. An anomaly. Her happenstance literal run-in with quite literally the most dangerous man in their world was just one of those things she'd never forget but nothing beyond that.

She could never forget his intense gaze on her, the heat that shot through her body when he touched her, his arm holding her, protecting her almost from a man who clearly doesn't understand boundaries.

But, while she tried her best to put the weekend's unexpected happening behind her, life, or maybe fate, had another plan in motion. One she could have never expected or seen coming.

She's sorting through one of the few remaining boxes that still needs to be tagged and put out for sale when a throat clears behind her.

Putting down the iPad, Solana stands up, wiping her hands on her shorts and loads up her typical, usual smile. Turning around, she readies to greet the probable customer but falters a bit, taken back by his appearance.

Wild, red hair that's surely seen better days. Tall with an almost lanky build, he wears one of the friendliest grins she's ever seen on a person, let alone a man.

"I'm sorry," she apologizes. "How can I help you?"

Again, he clears his throat, pulling out a wrinkled little piece of paper that seems to have writing scribbled on it. "Yes, I'm looking for a Sol---Solana?"

She laughs at his pronunciation but proceeds to confirm her identity. "I'm Solana."

He makes a sound, slapping his hand against his forehead. "Of course, my apologies!" She giggles. His demeanor is so amenable. "Umm, yes, if you could, umm, come with me?"

At that, Solana's smile drops. "I'm sorry?"

He leans over a bit, and she naturally moves back a little. "I'm sorry." His cheeks are heating with redness. "I'm here on behalf of the Tribal Chief."

Solana goes still. "Roman?" He nods. "He's---he's here?"

When Solana mentioned Roman coming to see her, something she still can't figure out where it came from, she wasn't actually expecting him to follow through on that.

And yet....

The man continues to explain, "he would come in, but....you know."

Yes, she does know. Roman Reigns coming into her little, quaint bookstore would certainly attract an audience and attention, the last two things she wants, that she's ever wanted.

Solana nods.

She should reject it. Should try to find some excuse as to why she can't. Why she's busy. But, she's also not dumb enough to say no to this man.

You don't just say no to Roman Reigns. You can, but it's bound to not end up well. And Solana would rather not find herself on his bad side.

Pushing back her anxiety, she finds herself agreeing. "Of course." Hooking her fingers through the hoops of her denim shorts, she asks, "w-where is he?"

The man whose name she realizes she still doesn't know motions with his arm. "Ladies first."

He really does have a gentless about him that doesn't seem to make sense considering who he works for.

Solana silently and wordlessly follows him out the emergency exit in the back of the store, ignoring the fact that that's probably how he got inside in the first place, which makes little to no sense to her. How did he get by without the security system going off? But, for her own sanity, she doesn't push it too much.

This is Roman.

He gets what he wants.

And speaking of, Solana finds her stomach knotting a bit when she's outside in the alleyway behind the strip. There's three black SUV's with tinted windows lined up, but he's standing by the one in the middle. Leaning against the middle door, his arms are crossed over each other, dark sunglasses hiding his eyes she secretly wishes she could see.

Moving closer, Solana has to take in once again the magnanimity of him. Roman is such a big man, his presence alone something that's both overwhelming and strangely satisfying.

But, when she gets her wish, and he lifts his sunglasses to the top of his head, she finds that feeling in her stomach intensifying. He's raking those beautiful eyes over her entire body, from the top of her head to the sole of her feet.

And Solana is suddenly wishing she'd maybe put on a little makeup or done something more sophisticated with her hair. Not that that seems to stop this man from looking like he'd take her in the back of this alley if he could.

Before she can say anything, the man with the wild red hair is speaking again, his voice suddenly riddled with anxiety.

She gets it.

"Ms. Solana, as you requested, sir." He stuffs his hands in the pockets of his jeans, and just when Solana expects him to walk away, leaving her along with the one man she probably shouldn't be left alone with, he continues to talk, offering an unexpected save. "And might I say, my Tribal Chief, she is absolutely beautiful. I mean, if I wasn't already married—" At the same time Solana looks at this strange man confused, Roman's gaze is borderline murderous. "But I am m-married, happily so, might I add. And I would never betray my Tribal Chief—"

"Sami."

"Yes, My Tribal Chief?"

"Leave." It's spoken to the man, but Roman's intense gaze is back on her. "Now."

Sami.....it fits.

"Of course," Sami clears his throat and scrambles away, getting in the SUV that's farthest from them without bothering as so much as a goodbye.

Once alone, she finds herself admitting in that same small voice, "I-I didn't think you'd actually come."

He chuckles, and it's such a beautiful sound. "I'm a man of my word, Solana." He flicks his eyes to her mouth. "I said I would see you again, didn't I?"

He did. She just wasn't counting on it.

Swallowing, Solana toys with the string of her top, unintentionally dragging Roman's attention to her cleavage that's showing more than usual. Of course. "How did you find—"

"That was easy. If I want something, I get it." She should know this, know that this man could probably have her social security number at this point if he wanted. "What are you doing tonight?"

Oh.

This is escalating. Quickly. So quickly. She should pump the breaks, should find someway to dead this now. But, she instead finds herself answering him, "n-nothing. Why?"

"You are now." Roman kicks off the SUV and instead moves toward her. Instead of backing away like she did with Sami, Solana stands still, only silently and internally panicking when he snakes his arm behind her and jerks her toward him, into him, into his body. Solid as steel. He's so big. Naturally, her hand moves to his chest, something Roman notices and smirks at. This man. "I'm fighting tonight. I want you there."

It takes her a second to think about what he's referring to, and then it hits her. WarGames is tonight. It's one of the few main events he still participates in. She hasn't attended an event in years. It's never been her setting, but instead of finding a way to tell him this, she's still limited to one to two word response.

"O-oh."

His smirk deepens as he brings his hand to her chin, thumb glossing over her skin. "I'll send a car to pick you up."

Picking up on something, she asks, partially concerned, partially flattered almost. "You-you know where I live?"

Roman's eyes continue to study her face, and she's never felt so under pressure. Like this is a test of some sort that she has no idea if she's passing or not. "I know a lot about you, Solana Miller, but there's still more I want to know." Oh my god. "Wear red."

Just how much does he know? Had he looked her up? Done research on her? Why? What would be the reason? What's so interesting about her that not only has he gone out of his way to gather information on her, but beyond that, is now seeking more info.

It just....it doesn't make sense.

Eyes shutting a bit from the overwhelming nature of this all, she finds herself asking in a breathy voice, "w-why?"

And as if she wasn't already an apprehensive mess, Solana's knees nearly give out from under her when he dips his mouth near her ear. "I like seeing you in my color." She exhales shakily and nervously, as he ghosts his lips over the shell of her ear. "Though I'd rather see you in nothing, but we'll work up to that."

That's not exactly what she was asking about, but regardless, it takes the pure will of God for her to not pass out when he finally pulls away, the lack of his touch on her body something she notices almost immediately.

Roman lifts his hand and snaps, not even a full minute later, one of his men emerging from the passenger side of the SUV to open the car door for him. "I'll see you tonight, Solana."

He can clearly see the reaction he's evoking from her and obviously finds great enjoyment in absolutely toying with her sanity. It's something that leads to her asking, "How-how do you know I'll be there?"

She never accepted. Never agreed. Never mind the fact that she's already thinking about what she owns red that could work for the event....

Roman gives her a curious look followed by another chuckle that she finds so much more attractive than she should. He answers so easily and confidently before climbing in the truck, door being shut for him,

"Because you're just as intrigued by me as I am by you."

[mahikamihan]

🧚🧚🧚pt. 2

[galacticlamps]

the way Edwin's immediate reaction upon seeing the misery wraith in the Devlin house is to grab Crystal and cover her mouth, even while he's explaining (apparently calmly) that it hunts by sensing negativity and pain - presumably instead of using sight or sound

and the way that he does the exact same thing to Charles when they're reunited in Hell, but here he urges him specifically to be quiet (in what must be the most barely audible line of dialogue in the whole show) because he's found that's the only way he can get a short reprieve between bouts of torture from the spider thing (to the point that when he ran into Simon earlier he - rather nonsensically - believed the sound of tearing paper behind a closed door was also a big risk)

All I'm saying is, it doesn't look like it was actually all that important he stop Crystal from making noise in the Devlin house, and as much as that scene originally read as Edwin kinda having his shit together while Charles & Crystal were both more affected & then literally incapacitated, his head couldn't have been half as clear as it first seemed if his immediate reaction was reverting to Surviving Hell Tactics even when they weren't really helpful or applicable here

[firstofficerkittycat]

ok but i never said no to canon spirk i said it physically cannot be "finally made canon" half a century after it happened and im not against reboots being made thats not my beef im just done with ppl acting like 2020s paramount or yes the very progressive and brave individual writers of whatever show ur talking about are braver and more capable of making gay shit Real than the writers of tos its just an annoying thing to be constantly hearing and its not true lmao. these current writers would agree thats the funniest part like they are aware. if ur saying terry matalas talks about k/s having been intentional in the 60s then he is absolutely aware that any little nod he's put into his show runs him zero risk of being convicted for distributing pro sex offender propaganda. like i promise you he knows this

[padawansuggest]

Annnnnnnyways. That comment had me so fucked up that I forgot to eat for over 8 hours and now I’m gonna throw up if I don’t cause I need to take my pills :/

[nevada-got-screwed-over]

Actually I don’t think I’ll ever forgive how Wash’s disability and subsequent ‘cure’ was handled.

[implied-divinity]

like yeah i want a pervert to have sex with but i also want that pervert to be ny boyfriend????

[adlibitur]

people made ""exclusionism"" bad because they couldnt handle other people in groups they want to be part of establishing boundaries and saying "no sorry, your experience isnt actually the same"

[britneyshakespeare]

He won't leave my fucking friends alone.

[shopcat]

god i am actually going to try not to get incredibly annoyed about this but people so transparently hate victims of literally all abuse and cannot possibly rub their big grown up so different and interesting brain cells together huh. personally i think hating pedophiles + incest and rape fetishists + other predatory people who try and exist comfortably in our shared.. online spaces and groom children into thinking like them is a normal stance and i don't just dismiss it as Silly fandom internet things JUST because it's aggravating and annoying because i'm ACTUALLY a mature grown adult and don't just claim to be one through dismissing these things entirely. but maybe that's just me 😋

[synthshenanigans]

there’s one on here currently and they’re bringing back up old controversy (jashshipping)

Yeaa I saw that. They also seem to post a bunch of CJ related things, so I might make the daily photos one since there isn't one for just CJ screenshots/photos

[swedisheek]

ITS @aimseytv ‘s BIRTHDAY LETS GO GOOD JOB AGING

(image description below!)

ID: Two sketch pages of Aimsey, one digital and one traditional. The first image shows content creator Aimsey glancing off to the side and sticking out her tongue, along with a smaller doodle of them winking happily at the viewer.

The second image is a sketch page of C!Aimsey, a brown and white haired bunny person with a cane, in several different poses. In one, he’s shown in full body, standing with his cane and glancing off to the side irritatedly. In another, xey’re seemingly mid-getting dressed, wearing only a binder and shorts. Xey’re tying xeir hair up, looking away with a flirty smile. In a third, star is sitting down, looking melancholy and smoking a cigarette. There’s also a doodle where star is looking towards the viewer with a surprised expression and a wave.

[glitterdustcyclops]

you're making me want to play a video game i've never heard of before and i'm a little annoyed about it, but i'm WAY more annoyed that it seems to require a ps5 and i only have a ps4

i'm so sorry friend, but if you ever find a genie lamp or a rich relative or some other way of acquiring a ps5 i cannot recommend baldur's gate 3 ENOUGH it's so good!!! if you were a fan at all of dragon age origins back in the day it scratches the exact same itch just with shiny pretty modern graphics and tons more gay shit. the writing is so complex and layered and the game design perfectly captures the energy of a tabletop session with your besties. i love it to death.

[thethingything]

do you have a stance on endos?

what about proshippers or proparas?

I'm gonna be honest with you anon, we'd rather stay as far away from any of this discourse as we possibly can.

syscourse especially just stresses us out, and when it comes to the whole thing with proshippers, we can't even work out what people mean because we've seen so many definitions for the same words, and I don't even know what a propara is (this isn't an invitation to explain).

I'm sure you probably have good intentions. maybe you're asking because you want to figure out if you're comfortable following us, and I completely get that, but given that we've seen other people get doxxed and receive death threats until they had to leave Tumblr because they posted about this stuff, the best I can give you is our personal boundaries:

we don't interact with discourse posts. it's just not worth it

if we see something that makes us uncomfortable (this includes the kind of ships most people would consider fucked up, like incest or pedophilia) we will just block and move on

if we receive any more asks about our opinions on various discourse topics, we will just delete them because it's not worth our time

we're here to post our silly little thoughts and look at memes and cool art and whatever our mutuals are posting about. yes we sometimes reblog political stuff, no this isn't the same as being involved in these discourse topics.

sorry if I sound kind of blunt and frustrated while typing this. once again, I'm sure you sent the ask in good faith, but I'm exhausted and irritable and don't really want to be involved in any of this.

please don't send any more asks about this stuff. I'm kind of enjoying our relatively drama-free online existence at the moment.

(as a side note: it might be worth re-considering asking people about potentially triggering discourse subjects completely unprompted, especially if whoever you're asking is clearly staying away from those subjects and has stated repeatedly that they have a trauma disorder. I'm alright, but I get the feeling it's a good way to potentially give someone else a panic attack or trigger some really difficult stuff, and that's just not a great thing to do, y'know? at least ask if the person is okay being asked about discourse beforehand)