#//the good news is i took a lot of notes. the bad news is said notes are on the laptop whose battery stopped working.

[gyllenhaalstories]

BODIES IN THE SAND — ELWOOD DALTON 🎂

summary: it’s your birthday and dalton wanted to make it special.

warnings: eating, mostly fluff & smut (making out, thigh riding). 18+ NO MINORS.

word count: 2730

gifs credits: me @/gyllenhaalstories / divider credits: @/firefly-graphics

notes: today is my birthday and i am, for the fourth year in a row, making it everyone’s problem with a (very boring) self indulgent fic. 🎈 thank you for reading & REMEMBER TO REBLOG!

The dock master waved at you when you passed by. You did not leave him enough time to repeat his speech about watching out for the damn crocs like a broken record. You had visited the Glass Key Marina so many times since meeting Dalton, one could think the old man would spare you the lecture. Whatever. This time, you ignored him. You stormed towards the wooden pier on a mission.

Dalton, now confident in Billy and Reef's abilities to handle the unruly patrons on their own (if they remembered to lift with their knees), allowed himself a night off from time to time. The pay as the bouncer of the roadhouse supported him plenty anyway. He did not splurge much, judging by the fishing box overflowing with stacks of cash. When he did spend his money, he would buy all the books Charlie recommended to him or he would treat you to his new favourite food, conch chowder.

You were usually the first person to know about his sporadic vacations, except for today. You drove to the roadhouse and Laura greeted you with a perplexed smile as to why you were there without Dalton. Frankie walked down the stairs from her office and expressed the same level of confusion. "Dalton called, said he's sick. I think the boat dreams are getting to him. Took him long enough." She explained before helping her employees to get the bar ready for another night. Dalton, sick? You stormed out of the bar with the same determination that made you beeline to The Boat.

"There you are." Dalton, who sat on the railing of the boat, stood up and turned around to greet you. The look on your face, painted with surprise, satisfied him, it was worth spending the entire afternoon decorating his corner of the marina. "Happy birthday."

You stood on a creaky wood plank and took in the scene. Orange balloons matched the colours of the sky as the early sunset reflected on the water. There were garlands and streamers, basically anything that could make the dock look festive. You scoffed at the Happy Thanksgiving banner attached to the back of the boat that clashed with the rest.

Dalton quickly justified. "I know... 'Was all Charlie could find." He worked on the ribbon of the balloon he had previously secured on the railing and held on it tight. He raised his leg to get off the boat, but you interrupted.

"I appreciate the thought. This looks so..." You spun on your heels and admired the decorations for a few more seconds. "This looks really nice. But that still won't get me to climb on that thing. It's literally sinking." You pointed at the rusty boat that the dock master constantly referred to as a frying pan. You wholeheartedly agreed with the older man.

"It's not sinking." He leaped from the boat to the dock. The tone of his voice failed to convince you. "... Yet." You both nodded in agreement. Not yet. Soon enough, Dalton would be taking a nap with the crocodile.

You let him come to you.

He tilted his head, eyes squinting at you. "You know, those little footsteps of yours sounded furious. Everything okay?" He clenched his jaw, already bracing up for bad news. It was all he seemed to attract: bad news.

"I should be asking you! Are you okay? I went to the bar and Frankie said you were sick."

"I don't get sick." He shook his head lightly.

"Then why did she tell me that?"

"Oh, I asked her to." He marked a pause, as if that was enough information. You pressed him to grant you with more details. "I thought it was a good excuse." There was a hint of pride in his grin.

"A good excuse that worried me a lot." Your attempt at reprimanding him failed miserably, especially when his grin widened while he stepped closer to you.

Dalton carefully tied the ribbon of the balloon around your right wrist. He then flicked the balloon, watching it bop. "Charlie and I have been planning this for a little while. Couldn't find a proper banner in time." His chin pointed at the Thanksgiving wishes.

"You can say something cheesy to make up for it." You suggested with a chuckle.

"I'm thankful that you're born?" Although he said it like a question, he was certain in the sincerity behind his words.

"That does the job." You both exchanged a moment of laughter. "Thank you for taking the time to decorate for my birthday."

"There's more." He guided you off the dock and through the makeshift path to the beach, always hovering a hand over your lower back to make sure he would be quick to react if you fell.

You let Dalton walk by the shore. Although you did not mind feeling the water run over your feet and ankles, he had insisted enough times that it was safer for you to stay on the other side. So you just let him do what he wanted. Your hand brushed over his a few times and you caught sight of the smirk on his lips.

He also noticed your head was turned towards the water so he pulled you to stand in front of him. He lost no time to hold your hand when you reached behind to grab his. Dalton mouthed a quiet wow when he took in just how beautiful you looked with the pink sunset sky.

Things were simple with Dalton. He did not talk much about what lead him to Glass Key, but you learned enough snippets of his life to know he wanted things to remain this way: simple. He liked the way you weaved yourself through the routine he built since working at the roadhouse. You'd visit before work, at work, after... You would hang out at the bookstore with Charlie, you would sit by the bar with Laura. It all felt simple. He did not hide his appreciation for the time you shared. He showed honesty in his intentions with you when a kiss turned into a lot more one too many times. Plenty of whispered praises, plenty of love filled gazes. You took it one day at a time with Dalton. And today was a special day in more ways than one.

Dalton bumped against you when you stopped walking abruptly at the sight of the makeshift picnic set up. Beach towels laid on the sand and held in place by a bunch of rocks and a pretty conch shell. It looked a little funky but he knew you could not care less. "After my first shift at the bar, Frankie told me this whole sales pitch about the place." He let go of your hand so you could wander towards the beach towels. "She said this was a beautiful spot to have a drink with someone special." Frankie was talking about the roadhouse, not the beach at the back of the marina but... It was close enough.

"She must be right." You sat down on the towel, Dalton joined you. He attempted to say something else, but the balloon floating in the evening breeze distracted him. You watched him intently as he untied the ribbon from your wrist and attached it to the handle of the cooler.

You exchanged a smile and enjoyed more of the sunset. You wondered to yourself how people could live in a beautiful place such as this and forget to pay attention. How could someone get used to a view like this? You certainly could never. You knew Dalton felt the same.

And Dalton knew what you were thinking about. He had travelled quite a bit, both for work and to escape it. He faced the same reflection time after time. "I don't know." He broke the silence, answering your unspoken question. "Maybe they don't have the right person by their side to remind them to appreciate the moment."

"I like the sound of that." You shifted closer to him and his hand slid along your lower back to find its place on your hip. "It's romantic."

"Wait 'til you hear about what I baked for your birthday..." He let out a small grunt when he stretched his arm towards the cooler to pull it closer.

"You can bake?"

"Nope." He opened the cooler and tilted in your direction. "But Charlie can." Kind of. He let you take a peak inside to admire the cupcakes that he prepared with the teenager and with Stephen on supervision duty.

You found it so endearing how he formed a bond with Charlie. Dalton even grew to like her comparisons to western novels and cowboy boots wearing broody heroes. You leaned in to admire the desserts and chuckled at the sight. "They're all squished."

"Shit." Dalton whispered at the sight of the dozen of misshapen cupcakes. He pulled out the tray and set it on the beach towel. He selected one that sort of held its shape during the transport from Charlie and Stephen's house to the beach. "I swear, I frosted them all nice for you." He grinned apologetically.

You grabbed the cupcake from his hand and took a bite. You swallowed thickly and tried to contain a funny face. "These are..."

"Burnt as hell." He stole a bite from the same cupcake and grimaced. He looked down at the rest of the desserts and began to explain that he was sorry, that he really tried to make your birthday special.

You interrupted him with a kiss on the corner of his mouth. "There was frosting." It was not entirely false, but you hoped this would stop the train of thoughts.

He still looked unsure, he worried that he had messed up.

So you kissed him again, on the same spot. You would usually let him lead and make the the first move so he would not feel trapped, but you wanted to reassure him. "Spending time with you is a nice gift on its own. So this?" You gestured around you. "This is great. And this." You held his head in your hands for a few moments, waiting for his lips to curl into a smile. "It's all I need to have a good time."

The smile stayed glued on his face even when you pulled away. You reached for the cupcake again and Dalton took it from your hand to put it back on the tray, slamming the cooler shut for good.

"You can't waste the cupcakes, you worked so hard to bake them for me." You would have eaten a couple of the sweets had he not stopped you, you wanted Dalton to know you liked the gesture.

"Then the crocodile can have them." You nodded, agreeing with his idea.

"Maybe he'll spare you for another night."

The sound of yours and Dalton's laughter blended together as one. "That's exactly what I was thinking." He replied.

"I know I just said I'm having a good time, but..." You crawled to kneel between his legs. You sat back, keeping a safe distance to let Dalton decide. "We can make it even better."

He considered the implications of your offer. Now, he felt like he was the one being celebrated. You were a real treat, kneeling before him with a gaze he had seen many times before. You wanted more... You wanted him. Dalton leaned in, glancing between your eyes and your lips.

You let him come closer until your mouths met in a gentle kiss, mirroring what you did moments ago.

His nose brushed against yours while he left you longing for another kiss. The small nod of his head told you everything you needed to know.

You erased the distance completely and kissed him again with your head tilted to the side.

Dalton's fingertips caressed along your arms and guided you to wrap them around his neck. He deepened the kiss when he felt one of your hands cradling the back of his head.

You hummed when his hands began to explore your body. The gentle touching up and down your back grew in eagerness.

Dalton's hands gripped firmly on your hips, pulling you closer. He placed a hand under your thigh and positioned you how he wanted. He took it slow, one step at a time. His hand travelled back up to the curve of your ass that he squeezed a little bit harsher than you expected.

The whimper you let out only encouraged him to keep going while his feverish touches fuelled you to take this further. Your tongue traced his lips before he parted his mouth open.

Your tongues danced together while he let go of you briefly to unbutton his shirt. Immediately after, your hands were all over him. Your fingertips followed the shape of his collarbone down to the curve of his pecs to end on the valley between his abs. You printed each and every detail of Dalton in your mind.

Your loving touch spread goosebumps on his skin, or perhaps it was the breeze getting cooler. The sunset reached its last instants, the sun appeared to be swallowed by the ocean far beyond the horizon. The marina was peaceful, but not quiet. Soft whimpers and grunts filled the silence as the waves slowly hit the sand.

You paused to catch your breath, Dalton could not take his eyes off your kiss swollen lips. "Wanna make you feel good." He whispered against your lips before leaning in again to let his tongue invade your mouth. His hands rested on your hips, squeezing the flesh and making your body move back and forth.

You ached from the lack of direct contact with him, you needed to feel him. But, again, you wanted to respect how far he seemed willing to go.

So he put his words into actions. Dalton made you straddle his thigh, trying to adjust the best he could to make sure you were comfortable. With his hands on your ass again, he began to make you grind on him. At first the movements were tentative, he let you adjust to the friction between your core and the clothes. But when you moaned at his ear, he could no longer hold back.

You rocked your hips back and forth, succumbing to the ever-growing hunger for more. More of this heated intimacy, more of Dalton's warm skin on yours... More.

Every time a door opened, Dalton closed it by repeating that you were a nice person, that you did not want to know him in that way, that you did not want to get close to him.

Yet, you waited. You showed him you had all the patience in the world for him. You showed that you were not out to get him, that you simply wanted to make Dalton feel good too.

You succeeded. The more you waited and reassured him that you would respect his boundaries, the more Dalton wanted to explore what lied beyond those limits.

"I don't want to stop." You murmured at his ear, trailing kisses from his ear and along his jaw until your lips connected again.

"I don't wanna stop either." His grip tightened on your hips, forcing you to slow down. "But since you refuse to get on the boat with me..."

You remained categorical, he would never convince you to step foot in that death trap. "We can go back to my place."

"Oh yeah?" Dalton kept you immobile, pressed down on his thigh. Your whine of complaint sounded like music to his ears. "You think you can wait that long?" It was quite the drive between the beach and your home. If either of you had the genuine intention to leave, you would have done in a while ago. "I'm not too sure about that."

You scoffed at his assumption. "Can you wait?"

Dalton answered your question by capturing your lips with his in a rough kiss. He slowly, carefully, helped you to lay on your back. He guided your legs apart to make space, his gaze meeting yours while his hands caressed your thighs. He let the tension build, he needed you to give him one more sign that you wanted this just as much as he did. When your hips bucked forward, your body pressing more against his, he grinned. "I've waited long enough."

[siriuslychessi]

Spotlight

For the August @jilychallenge

AO3 | FF

“I only have feelings for you because we’ve been acting as a couple on this show that we’ve grown up together on since we were eleven…I think…”

The words on the script made James’ palms sweat, he was not sure if in a good or bad way, he just felt the profuse sweating making the page stick to his skin and he did not like the sensation, the reaction to the words on the page felt foreign to him as he kept reading. 

“And are we sure this is where Gilderoy wants the show to go to?” James asked, hoping his voice was steady. He had had a few awkward moments while his voice was changing as he grew up in the show, but he was over it by now. He didn’t want the uneasiness to show in his voice. 

“Yes, he did a previous revision, but that remains the same, he checked with Albus as well.” Kingsley informed James, as the younger man took a pen from his pocket, clicking it a couple of times out of nerves and habit, before writing his own notes on the margins of the script. 

“Any directions from Dumbledore? Or is he just trying to play it by ear?” James asked, pausing in his notes to look at Shacklebolt. 

Kingsley shrugged, “At the moment he wants to see how it plays out, you two have been playing with these characters for a while now. You know them better than anyone.” he admitted, and James nodded. 

“Thank you,” James said absentmindedly, as Kingsley left to prepare for filming. He was still thinking about the words on the page, and the scene he would have to participate in sooner rather than later.

Being in a show since before your voice changed did a lot to impact a young boy’s life. Instead of school and classmates, you had private lessons and castmates that felt more like family than random people in a place of work. And that also meant that small grudges grew over time, or changed into something else entirely.

At the moment he was uncertain of how the grudges and feelings had evolved as he read the script in his hands.

James had to admit that acting was just about him getting his energy out, a way to express himself, and for his parents to keep him occupied. Or it was like that at the beginning. He never thought that he would make a career out of it, no one at 11 thinks of a job or the responsibility it carries, at least not like adults do. But the more he acted, the more he enjoyed it, and the better he wanted to be. 

He started taking his career more seriously, took acting lessons, asked a lot of questions on direction, and requested feedback from older actors and more experienced people in the industry. It was quite the change from his previous stance of ‘I’ll do it because it’s fun, besides no one would fire the cute main lead’. A change that many have seen as a positive improvement and actually welcome and encourage it. 

Sirius, his best friend in set and life, had found it annoying at first, James and him used to do a lot of shenanigans around set, and he always teased him for his new found work ethic. He had to admit that Sirius put little effort on the craft but was an amazing actor all the same, always brought emotion to the characters he played, however, was more passionate about their band than acting, and was always teasing James about his new purchased books and courses.

James had tried to share his interest with his best mate, and Sirius reluctantly had taken a few of the books with him. The teasing persisted but James could see Sirius’ curiosity spiking at new theories and techniques, even if the other man preferred to write lyrics than study lines.

Sirius was also privy, as was his other close friend Remus, about the difficulty to work with one Lily Evans. She was the co-star of the show, and had it out for James since day one when he tried to do a trick on a skateboard and managed to ruin her big-scene dress. James had never managed to outlive that. 

Their relationship had been odd from the start, Lily had decided that James was the worse person to step in the set, and the fact that they had so many scenes together didn’t help improve her perception, neither did the numerous pranks that James had played on her and her former friend Snape, who used to be part of the cast.

James had learned not to prank people over the years, or at least to be more conscious of the types of pranks that were done. But he believed the damage was done and his and Lily’s relationship was one that would only blossom on screen. 

However, that might be the nerves talking. Lily in reality had grown fond of the boys, especially after Snape left and he was not whispering how annoying the rest of the cast was. She managed to see how witty James was, Sirius' intelligence and knowledge of music and business, and Remus' interesting facts and inherited sweetness. She had grown fond of all of them, and she hoped that they could see that they had outgrown the annoying little children they all used to be. 

Not only because of the work, that was easier to do when everyone got along, but because she wanted to be friends with people she spent the majority of the time with. To have meaningful relationships that would last them more than just a set life. 

If James had bothered to go find Lily, instead of getting anxious about asking Sirius’ some questions regarding the upcoming scene, he would have seen that Lily was almost in the same predicament as him. Pondering on the words written on the pages, and how she felt about it. 

Lily read the whole episode again. According to the notes from the director, her character was nervous, which she wouldn’t even have to act at that point. She had been pacing in her trailer with the pages in hand since receiving them. Her and James’ character had always had a more friendly relationship, sometimes annoying each other, sometimes too close to believe that they were just part of the same friend group, and now, their relationship was going to define what they were. 

Lily was not sure how she felt about how definitive it all felt.

In all the time Lily had been in the show all she thought was making her family proud, her friends outside of the business proud, and to do a good job, because she understood how many little girls would feel related to her character and that felt like a huge responsibility but it made her excited to come to work every day. 

It was hard to go through puberty in a show that had mostly male actors, and where the one she thought was a close friend turned out to be creepy and not at all friendly. She had to deal with a lot, and she was thankful that she had Mary for most of it. But she knew that she had annoyed her best mate when talking about James. 

James had always been a topic for Lily, after all they had a lot of scenes together, but it had fluctuated from annoyance to friendship so much that her feelings were muddled and her thoughts waver from one side of her feelings to the other. She knew that going to Mary in these circumstances was not advisable, as her friend would probably tease again that she had always had a crush on Potter, just as much as the crush she had on Black on and off screen. 

Lily was not ready to deal with all of it. 

The lights on set made the chilly day of March feel toasty. Lily believed that the studio didn’t need the central heating with the hard lights on them. It was a miracle that the makeup stayed put under that heat, and it was the second time under the same lights that she felt like trembling from nerves. 

The first time she was eleven and it was her first big show, she had been wanting to prove herself with the network’s executives. She thought she would butch all her lines, and to be honest she could have given herself more space to mess up and enjoy. She was eleven, a few lines missed or misspoken would not be the end of the world. 

Yet, it felt like the world was ending. 

But then, there was this boy, with messy hair and thick glasses, that made everyone in the set laugh, and was apologetic about missing his queues, or even fidgeting with his hair, when he was not supposed to, it would be a mess for editing the show. 

And she was jealous, and furious that this boy could enjoy as much as he wanted, that he could be so casual when she was a mess. 

With time she learned that the tale that James’ messing with his hair meant he was nervous, and the jokes were half a tale too. He did enjoy making people having a good time, but they could be a distraction from how on edge he was. 

It took Lily a long time to learn these things about James, and the more she knew about him, the more she liked him. 

Which was why she was a mess right before the big scene. 

James grew from the thin little prat, to be a handsome young man. He still made silly jokes, and his hands stopped just as he was about to mess his hair, but his dedication to the job had changed. He was serious about the scenes, he made sure he got notes from the writer and the director; didn’t mind doing retakes when necessary, and was mindful that Lily would be in some of the shoots so he tried his best to stick to script. 

He also remembered the snacks she liked and always brought some to rehearsal, and was sure to warn her of any possible paparazzi on set. He always managed to remember her birthday, and her families’, and was always kind when her sister and her friends gushed to him on set. Something Lily really hated, but seeing him be attentive like that made her stomach twist in weird ways. 

Lily was not alone in her nerves. James was right there with her. 

Lily had been a constant in James’ life, either by scolding him or making him better. He didn’t know exactly when the little annoying girl had transformed into the gorgeous young woman that he had a crush on, but that was where they were at, and now they had a crucial scene together. A scene that was more personal than anything, and he was not sure that he liked that it happened in front of the cameras. 

As James stepped in position he remembered if he properly brushed his teeth, which he had; and he had eaten a mint as well. He tried to not think of how potent, or not, was his deodorant under the heavy set lights, and all in all he tried to be presentable not only for the job but for the scene.

“I guess we are doing this.” he mumbled, more to himself than to anyone. 

“We certainly are, Potter.” Lily replied with a smile, that made James’ nerves shake even harder. 

“Everyone ready, we’ll be rolling, so silence in the set!” James heard the voice of Kingsley in the background, but was focused on Lily’s green eyes, and the rose tinted lips that were glossed for the scene and the cameras. 

Lily looked back at him, her lips moving as if to say something. But James mind did not register any of what was being set, his mind focused on her lips and expression. 

“Matt?” he finally heard what Lily had said, it was the name of his character, the one that he had been playing for so long that he almost replied when he heard it. 

“I’m sorry, but what did you mean by that?” He knew what the line was, and Lily and himself had improvised in the past, knowing that stopping the take might delay the production more than just a tiny messed up line. 

“Well, how do you know it is me you fancy? I thought you were dating Nancy.” Lily’s voice carried, and James remembered the plot where their love triangle with Sirius’ character became even more complex. 

“I am not. I’m not dating anyone.” he sounded sincere because in reality he wasn’t, there was no one he wanted to date but his co-star, but he knew she didn’t like him that way. However, just for a moment he could pretend that these were not the characters talking. “There’s no one else, it’s you, Audrey, it’s always been you.” 

For a brief moment James wished that it was Matt, the character, the person saying those words, but himself, to Lily, wonderful and gorgeous Lily. 

That moment passed quickly as her eyes pressured him to move forward, not to stop and continue with the scene. And he did. 

James’ hands moved on their own accord wrapping themselves on Lily’s waist and pulling her closer. He felt her breath on his cheek and her green eyes on him, as if the universe was telling him that his wish of this being a kiss between them was coming true. 

He let his body continue, his nervous thoughts forgotten as his lips touched Lily’s. 

Lily’s arms wrapped around his neck, and her hands moved to his hair, grabbing hold of his nape, keeping him close as her lips reciprocated whatever he was giving.

She tasted like cherry lip gloss and something sweet like vanilla and apple tart. 

He tasted like mint and those dark chocolates he was always snacking during takes.

Lily’s apple shampoo and her flowery perfume mixed with James’ senses, as James’  musky scent made her want to pull him closer and taste more of his lips and feel more of his body. 

They were in their own little world, a perfect kiss, for the perfect culmination of a career, but more so, for better expressing exactly what one felt for the other.

Neither of them wanted it to end. 

Yet they were not alone, and a repetitive “Cut!” could be heard from somewhere near them, pulling them back to earth. 

“Way to go Prongs!” James heard Sirius say. 

The whole set bursted laughing, including the couple. 

One thing was sure, they no longer were only castmates.

[lovenpeace-pkmn]

🫣 is scared of their own shadow?

Cartwright, at times. She has relaxed a great deal since arriving here, but...losing her old trainer was very traumatic for her.

[mee-op]

Facts about in-game Yuu (Twisted Wonderland):

NOTES:

This is an ongoing list and will be updated with new information. I'm not caught up w/ chap 6 and I'm not very perceptive. This list is so long because of all the people who commented/sent asks, so thank you Last but not least, some of these might be a stretch/be slightly incorrect so bare w/ me plz :] More Yuu facts [ ONE / TWO ] <- not mine

They've been good friends with Heartslabyul ever since Book 1.

They're forgiving/don't hold any bad blood with the people who've overblotted (at least on the outside).

According to the Harveston event, they can play the flute.

They don't like mentioning that they might return to their world (Deuce's Wishing Star vignette).

Many people consider them a "goody-two-shoes" (Leona, Ruggie).

A good listener.

Based on Malleus' interactions with them, Yuu talks to him a lot more off-screen as he states that he values their opinions.

Loves Grim to hell and back.

It's implied that Yuu invites Malleus over frequently enough that he visits unprompted.

They can be snarky and brutally honest when they're pushed into it.

Comes up with stupid plans that nobody believes will work but it somehow does.

They're insecure about not having any magic.

They want to be able to help their friends.

Has a sense of self-preservation.

Does not actively seek out danger (*cough* om mc *cough*).

They've cleaned up Ramshackle since living there, however, it still looks "abandoned & ancient" on the outside.

Crowley doesn't give them more money than "needed".

Silver states that Yuu is good with swords (PE Uniform).

Both Jamil and Silver seem to think that Yuu is somewhat weird/strange.

They don't know much about mushrooms (Floyd's Camp Vargas vignette).

They're very patient.

Used to be afraid of ghosts until they got to Twisted Wonderland.

They adapt to new/difficult situations quickly and calmly.

They don't complain much.

Very much so the silent type.

The audience doesn't really see anyone helping them out with their situation, so I assume they fix most of their problems themselves.

They don't have any memories of the Great Seven before coming to Twisted Wonderland.

Fluctuates between being observant and not noticing really basic stuff.

Doesn't hesitate to say cheesy things.

Keeps calm in harsh situations.

They know how to play a blowing horn (White Rabbit Event).

Good with instruments.

Not a very good singer (NRC Uniform).

It's implied that they have high stamina.

They're interested in horseback riding and wants to play soccer with Sebek (PE Uniform).

They recommend a few books to Sebek, implying that they read in their free time.

They're short in comparison to Floyd (he calls them Shrimpy).

Grim comments that they're shorter than Vil.

Crowley mumbles that Yuu looks effeminate.

They're a bit of a romantic since they seem to often ask about love stories/fairy tales (Epel & Jade chats).

They have a habit of poking, tugging, tickling and just touching people in general. This is proven through the Home Screen character interactions, so their love language seems to be physical touch.

They get scared easily but is bad at scaring others (Halloween voice lines).

Vil notes that their uniform is baggy.

Malleus says that Yuu has gotten better at dancing (Masquerade Event).

It's implied that Yuu is good/decent at cooking since they have to make meals for both themself and Grim every day.

Yuu is decent at basketball (Ace Halloween).

Deuce remarks about a tiny piece of furniture in Ramshackle and asks if it's for Grim, meaning Yuu makes small furniture for him.

They're a good photographer.

Takes part in photography competitions (Rook Port Fest).

It's implied that Yuu carries their ghost camera everywhere because Crowley constantly makes them record events.

It's said that the game cards are actual photos that Yuu took with the ghost camera. [I don't know if this is true but a lot of people have said so]

Most, if not all the characters tell Yuu to hurry up when choosing a class, which suggests that they're indecisive.

Ace, Deuce and Cater tell Yuu to relax during classes or else they'll run out of energy.

Jack says that he got tips from Yuu while he was working in Monstro Lounge, implying that Yuu might've worked in customer service before (Book 3).

According to Grim, they have a hard time saying no to people, but when they absolutely need to-- they're very serious and a bit intimidating. "You're a real sap sometimes, you know that? Then again, when you bare your teeth it's no joke."

While they won't say no to helping others, they prefer to keep to themselves and avoid drama.

Yuu is sometimes a bit distrustful of Ace and thinks he's tricking them if he offers to do anything nice (2024 Player Birthday Greetings).

It doesn't take much to make them happy. (Deuce & Idia 2024 Player Birthday Greetings).

They became nervous when Riddle invited them to a salon for their birthday. Riddle response saying "I'll be right there with you, and will instruct you in etiquette every step of the way."

They're competitive in class-- at least when it comes to Jack (2024 Player Birthday Greetings).

They took chess lessons to try and beat Leona in a match (2024 Player Birthday Greetings).

For their birthday, Yuu asks Azul to get something that's supposedly hard for an average collector to acquire.

They're surprised when Kalim gifts them a pop-up card for their birthday.

They own a pair of fingerless gloves (gifted by Epel).

They personally invited Vil over for their birthday party and made sure to have healthy food options for him.

Not very close with Idia.

Owns a glass tumbler that reads 'Happy Birthday!' (gifted by Ortho).

Lilia gives them a CD with his screamo performances.

They were gifted so many presents on their birthday that they had trouble carrying the gifts around. (Malleus 2024 Player Birthday Greetings).

[ifwebefriends]

My thoughts during “The Sign” [SPOILERS!!!!!]

ID in ALT

More thoughts under the cut

So I think most of us can agree that this is the best episode of Bluey so far. It was so emotional and satisfying in ways that are kinda new for Bluey. It answered so many questions while giving us a few new ones. I’ve been waiting for this episode for months and it did not disappoint in any way.

This is just a Chekov’s firing squad of an episode. As in a lot of stuff that was set up in earlier episodes all pay off in this episode. I kinda understand why people love soap operas now lol. I will say that this episode was a tad overwhelming for me in the best way possible. As in I had to pause and rewind every 30 seconds or so so I could emotionally process what was happening before moving forward (but that’s a me thing). There was just so much going on and I’m happy about that.

Now onto individual thoughts about specific things:

The callback to Baby Race (“you took your first steps in that house!”) really got to me because Baby Race was the first episode of Bluey that I watched and it immediately made me fall in love with it so it just got to me.

When Chilli said “Frisky and I came up here as teenagers to…um…think,” my mind started racing immediately with “what the FUCK happened at the Lookout?” “Who hurt Frisky and/or Chilli?” And I’m just so curious about what made Chilli say that line like that but we’ll probably never know what happened.

So yeah that scene at the end when the music was playing and Bandit ripped the sign out of the ground and Chilli tackled him to the ground ABSOLUTELY CHANGED my brain chemistry y’all. I can’t articulate my feelings any more than that.

I know some people were upset that Brandy ended up getting pregnant but I thought it was great for her! I’m happy for her! And I think that even though she got what she wanted in the end doesn’t negate the feelings she had about her infertility earlier. But I think we’re all wondering who the father is and I don’t know if the show really needs to answer that.

The whole message of “we’ll see” in terms of if something is good or bad is such a mature message that I never really thought of like that so I will be taking that philosophy forward in life. Congratulations Bluey, you managed to teach a 22-year-old childless person something new and insightful about life that I don’t think I’ve learned from another show.

I want to know more about what Bob was going through and feeling and why he went to India, but again, we’ll probably never know.

I just love how the wedding photos were beautiful but imperfect. Like of course we’re not perfect and nothing will ever be perfect but it’s beautiful and worth remembering anyway.

So many little jokes and moments were so funny in a mature way (I.e. “are we allowed to do that?” And Nana thinking there was about to be a baby announcement) were just so funny and memorable.

I think some people would say it’s a cop-out to end up not selling the house after building it up for 2 episodes but I don’t know, I think it works. I think Bluey and Bingo learned a valuable lesson and Bandit (and Chilli kinda) learned it’s not always about making their kids lives “perfect” in their eyes. Also I’m just personally glad they didn’t end up selling the house and I also kinda like that it wasn’t entirely their choice to keep it.

On a more serious note I think this episode has some interesting commentary on like gender roles and gender relations in straight relationships. In this episode Chilli and Frisky (both women) have to deal with their male significant others pressuring them to move with them far away from what they know and love. In the end they don’t end up moving and the men didn’t seem to have like malicious or selfish intent with it, they were just kinda basing their choices off their jobs instead of what’s best emotionally for their loved ones. But I think it’s interesting to have this conflict where gender is kinda brought up in a way (“because your husband is making you”). It kinda plays into the traditional idea of like men are the breadwinners and the family has to move with them regardless of what they actually want. And this episode kinda like deconstructs that and says “no, it’s not always about the job or money, it’s also sometimes about connections and emotional attachment.” And I’m not saying that you should never move or whatever, but really weigh your options. I just thought that it was interesting that this episode kinda touched on that.

So yeah that’s kinda the main thoughts I had on this episode if you made it this far thank you for reading my rambles and have a good one!

[grandline-fics]

Terms of Endearment

DESCRIPTION:  You call them by a term of endearment without realising 

WARNINGS: none that come to mind.

CHARACTERS: Law, Kid, Shanks, Marco, Zoro | Ace, Sabo, Luffy

WORDS: 2,943

A/N: I decided to use Zoro as the final character. Since he and Ace tied in the poll, I might make a second one of these and use Ace and any others people may want.

*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*

MASTERLIST

———————

LAW

He knew it was irrational to be jealous of an inanimate object. Law knew that it’d be childish to use his Devil Fruit to take it out of your hands and claim your attention for himself. While he had enough restraint to not do that, the temptation to do so was still there. His eyes zeroed in on the book in your hand. He glowered and wondered if it was really that good, did it really deserve such intense, rapt attention that you were giving it. Your eyes were alight as you took in the words, your fingers already tucked behind the next page and ready to turn it as quickly as possible. Law watched you carefully, almost praying for your expression to turn to one of sudden boredom but it didn’t come. 

He supposed he was to blame this time, a lot of this was new to him. While your relationship had only turned to a romantic one recently, you’d both been close for a lot longer. Long enough for you both to be able to spend time together while doing entirely separate things. You only pulled your book out because he had medical charts to look over and update. Law made a mental note to try a bit harder from now on to make the time you had together one of quality.

Finally he sat back in his seat and rubbed his eyes, letting them relax from pouring over the extensive pages now neatly piled on his desk. Slowly he stood and walked to the sofa you were perched on, unmoving and seemingly unaware he was approaching. Law tried to bite back his jealousy once more, wondering how annoyed you’d be if he ‘accidentally’ sent that blasted book out into the depths of the ocean. 

When he sat down in the space beside you, he smiled softly when you leant back so you were against his side. One of your hands dropped to rest on his arm that was around your waist, your fingers lightly making soothing patterns against his tattooed skin. Law supposed this did count as quality time since it meant he could relax with you in a way he couldn’t with anyone else. He allowed himself the time to settle further against the cushion and press his lips against the back of your head. “Don’t forget you and Bepo are on duty tonight.” He reminded you, still having to act as your Captain when necessary. 

“Yes, love.” Your answer was light and casual that he didn’t realise what you’d said at first. Then it echoed in his head ‘love.’ His eyes widened and he peered at the back of your head. There was no way he misheard that. You’d called him love, not Law, not Captain. Love. There was no mistaking the way his heart skipped a beat in reaction. It sounded so right, so effortless the way you said it and he found himself wanting to hear it again. It was also clear that from your lack of reaction, you hadn’t realised what you’d called him because you were partially distracted. Law smirked and for a moment reconsidered his earlier distaste. Perhaps your book wasn’t so bad after all.

KID

Kid didn’t want to admit it but he was powerless against you. He was stubborn and hotheaded and did what he wanted even if someone had sound logic to convince him whatever he had planned wasn’t wise. If anything if someone did attempt that nonsense with him, he’d be even more extreme with his conviction to do as he wanted and would even think of a way to make his actions even more outlandish and dangerous. Even Killer had a hard time keeping the captain in a somewhat mature state of mind. You however were a different story. Anything you wanted, it was yours all you had to do was ask. 

Kid just never knew how to let you know that was the dynamic between you both. He was never afraid to speak his mind, if anything he yelled it to ensure everyone knew his thoughts. Yet he seemed to bite his tongue from confessing how he truly felt with you. He’d much rather have you beside him every day and enjoy the playful teasing and jokes than make things real and risk you not seeing him that way. Killer had told him one night to just confess already and trust that you felt the same. Kid had rolled his eyes and promptly kept his feelings buried in his chest. It was better, they were safer there than spoken out loud and unable to take them back.

He walked into the kitchen one evening to see you and Killer preparing the crew’s dinner. You looked over at the sound of his naturally heavy steps coming closer and smiled in greeting to see him stop in the doorway. “Here to help, Captain?” You asked, already knowing the answer before it came. Your smile grew when Kid let out a loud laugh and made a show of folding his arms across his chest and leaning against the doorframe. 

“Not unless you want me to poison the crew.” He smirked.

“You’d nurse us back to health if you did infect us though, right?” You joked before looking back to the food you were meant to keep an eye on instead of getting distracted by your handsome Captain. You had to keep reminding yourself to behave and actually respect the chain of command. To let yourself imagine he may genuinely feel the same as you did would only lead to heartbreak in the long run but still you flirted and teased him whenever you could. You supposed you were just a glutton for punishment. You slowed in stirring the food and looked around for the seasonings only to see the small jar on the counter near Kid. 

“Could you pass me that?” You asked nodding your head at what you needed. Kid followed your gaze and immediately pushed himself away from his comfortable position to lift the tiny item. He stepped forward and passed the seasoning into your waiting hand, hating and loving how the brief moment of his fingers skimming against yours brought him such a burst of joy. “Thank you, darling.” You smiled, turning back to the stove. While you hadn’t noticed what you’d said Killer did and he stopped cutting the vegetables to look Kid who was frozen in place, his eyes wide and cheeks turning the same bright red as his hair. 

Darling? The fuck did you mean darling?! Kid’s mind was short-circuiting as he scrambled to gather his wits together and make sense of it all. Had you called him that subconsciously because  was it possible that you felt for him too? God he hoped so because getting to hear you call him something so sweet again would be perfect.

SHANKS

One of the great things about sailing with an Emperor of the sea like Shanks was the fact that there were many islands under his protection. Any time you landed at one for a visit or even for the excuse of resting from a long stretch of sailing, the locals welcomed you all so warmly that it turned into one big celebration. None of you needed to worry about night watches, chores or other duties and could just sit back and enjoy the peace until Shanks decided he wanted to get back on the waters again. 

As a crew, you were all used to just passing out and sleeping wherever you were at that time and waking up with aches from the uncomfortable positions you’d all ended up. However the town you were staying in was large enough to provide some rooms for you all in one of their inns. Some of you still needed to double up but the beds were extremely comfortable and who were you all to refuse such generosity? One night when the drinking and partying was only just beginning you slowly rose from your seat with a stifled yawn and forced yourself to finish your drink. Shanks was first to notice your movements. “Going for another round of drinks already?” he asked, coming across casual but he knew you weren’t yourself. 

“Nah, I’m turning in early.” You announced, playfully flipping off the crew when they started to boo you for being boring. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Blame Beck, alright. I haven’t slept the last two nights. Goodnight.” You gave no further explanation and disappeared up the staircase to claim a room to sleep in. Shanks looked towards his righthand man with a small scowl. He hoped you hadn’t implied what he thought. Beckman could sense his Captain’s silent interrogation and waved away his worries. “Calm down Cap, you know I’d never make a move on them. It’s just been bad luck we’ve had a share a room together and I snore…apparently.” He explained with a shrug and long drink of his ale. 

Shanks had accepted the answer, knowing Beck would never lie to him. Yet as innocent as it all was, he couldn’t ignore the way he’d felt sick at the thought of you being with another of the crew.  While nothing had exactly happened between you both, it was painfully obvious that there was something there. A playful dance you both engaged in without making an actual step forward into committing and admitting you’d had feelings. Roughly Shanks rubbed his eyes, now wasn’t the time to be thinking on such things, not with alcohol in his system and you not being there to talk to like the adults you were. 

The rest of the night had helped to take his mind off things but it was all undone by the time he entered the room he’d been staying in the entire stay and saw you sleeping soundly in his bed. He was the only one in the crew that didn’t have to share his room with anyone else so why were you here? He approached the bed and shook your arm, watching your eyes crack open and he immediately felt guilty. You really did look exhausted. “Why’re you in my bed?” He asked, trying not to laugh as your eyes slipped closed again. 

“Furthest room…no snoring. Please honey, lemme sleep.” Your voice was thick with sleep and your breathing was growing deeper again. Shanks might have appeared calm but that was the first time you’d ever called him something like that and as far as he knew you’d never called anyone else on the crew something similar. That all but cemented his decision that things needed to be talked about when you were both awake and rested enough to deal with things. Finally he let out a sigh and climbed into what would be his side of the bed while keeping respectable space between you both. “Fine, only because it’s you.”

MARCO

Your relationship with the ship’s doctor was a fairly new one. You had both known each other long enough to know the general likes and dislikes and the atmosphere on the Moby Dick among the crew was always one of familial harmony so there was never any uncomfortable tension. You were both content to just take things easy and enjoy things as they developed naturally without needed to force things into a certain timeframe. Marco’s personality being so relaxed and carefree was infectious in general and it was no different in your relationship.

Marco stood from his desk and stretched, ready to find you and enjoy the rest of the day with you now that all pressing tasks he’d needed to complete for the day was done. He was just about to leave when Izou entered to talk about organising a banquet for Ace’s birthday. As the two were discussing everything you appeared and smiled at them both before entering the room. 

“Babe, did you see my-” Anything else that came out of your mouth was unfortunately drowned out by the increased heart rate in Marco’s ears. Instead he could only watch as you were busy looking for whatever it was that you’d lost. Marco would have considered himself steady and able to handle most situations but hearing you call him babe for the first time had certainly thrown him and you seemed oblivious to the fact that you’d done so. The only person who truly reacted was Izou, his laugh snapping Marco out of his trance and catching your attention too. “Babe, huh? Didn’t realise things were so serious with you two. Maybe we could plan the wedding too.” Izou teased. 

“What are you talking about now?” You asked with a small smile. You were used to Izou’s teasing like a brother figure would but sometimes he just didn’t make sense. When Izou saw that you weren’t aware of your subconscious slip-up he grinned wider. 

“You called Marco, babe.” He explained. You rolled your eyes and let out an amused laugh. As far as jokes went, it wasn’t the worst one he’d told you but he could do better. Suddenly you became concerned when Izou’s smug grin wasn’t slipping and you had to think. What had you said to Marco when you entered the room? Slowly you pulled your gaze to your boyfriend and he nodded. “Well looks like you two lovebirds need some alone time.” Izou all but sang as he left, no doubt hurrying off to tell Ace and the others about Marco’s new nickname.

“So…” You cleared your throat nervously and gave a small laugh. “Want to forget that happened? I swear I didn’t realise I’d even called you that.” The last thing you wanted was to make Marco think you were forcing him to a point he wasn’t ready for. Thankfully his broad smile was enough to make you relax, his naturally warm aura soothing your brief worries before they had a chance to escalate. Marco stepped closer to you, settling a hand on your waist. “Well even if you stop now, I bet all the others will start. Honestly I’d much rather hear it from your lips. Can I hear you say it again?”

ZORO

Zoro kept a firm hold on your shoulder as you stumbled, trying to twist weakly out of his grip. Any other instance he would release you if his touch made you uncomfortable but this was a completely different situation. After defeating a group of lackeys, one managed to make one last attack before falling unconscious. You’d been quick enough to intercept whatever it was he threw towards you and Zoro but when it was destroyed it still released a cloud of strange smelling gas. Zoro had been a safe enough distance but you weren’t so lucky. 

At first you’d insisted you were fine but after walking a few paces your balance started to sway and your mind was beginning to cloud. Zoro became concerned by the glazed look in your eyes as you tried one more time to pull out of his unwavering hold, glaring at him. “Jus’ let me go! I don’t know you.”

His eyes widened at your declaration, not only because you sounded so dazed and confused. It was not like your usual bright and familiar way of speaking that made him happy to hear but it was also because hearing you say you didn’t know him filled him with more concern than he was willing to admit. He needed to find Chopper quickly to treat whatever it was you’d been hit with. For now he had to try and keep you calm and prove you were safe with him. “Course you know me. We’re crew-mates, remember? It’s Zoro.”

Abruptly you stopped and bumped into his chest, lifting your head to stare at him, trying to force yourself to focus on his face. Your hand reached out and clumsily gripped his face, tugging him forward enough for you to see his features better. Zoro could see your pupils were blown wide, whatever had been in that vial was some sort of hallucinogenic and he hoped that that was all it was. It could be better dealt with than a poison. Not that seeing you so wary and untrusting of him was any better. Your suspicion didn’t subside when you finally let go of his face and shook your head. 

“You’re not Zoro.” You finally declared, trying once more to get away from him. This time you succeeded only enough to make it a couple of steps but without him there to keep you stable you fell forward. If Zoro hadn’t been there you would have landed face first into the pavement but he caught you swiftly around the waist and lifted you to settle you over his shoulder, deciding that this way of carrying you was the best option. “Definitely not Zoro.” You weakly grumbled into his back as he began walking again. 

“Oh yeah, why’re you so sure of that?” He asked, deciding to at least play along.

“You’re too grumpy…” You explained and added as you fell unconscious. “Zoro’s grumpy but he’s a sweetheart. My sweetheart.” Immediately the back of his neck heated and he froze in place but he couldn’t say or do anything else because thankfully Chopper, Usopp and Nami appeared to regroup and find Luffy. Zoro quickly explained to Chopper that you’d been hit by something but offered no further details. 

“Did you get hit too, Zoro? You’re looking really red.” Chopper asked in concern. Quickly Zoro cleared his throat and shrugged as he laid you on the ground so Chopper could treat you. 

“Uh yeah, might have been. Don’t worry about it though.”

[nxuvillette]

“WE’RE SUPPOSED TO BE JUST FRIENDS!”

FRIENDS WITH BENEFITS HCS W/ BLLK MEN

synopsis: it’s just a situationship. those usually don’t lead to much, right?

❥- including : michael kaiser, oliver aiku, sae itoshi

❥- note : first bllk post !! i’m slowly getting back into it, so i hope you all enjoy <3 ! reblogs are appreciated !!

content warnings : nsfw [17+], fem!reader, ageless + blank blogs dni, rough sex (kaiser), some degradation (kaiser), spanking (kaiser), car sex (sae), birthday sex (oliver), mentions of food (sae), use of pet names (baby , princess , good girl), creampie (all), friends with benefits, mentions of hookups, mentions of alcohol (oliver + kaiser), dacryphilia (kaiser), praising.

♡ MICHAEL KAISER

your little friends with benefits with kaiser had begun over six months ago. you and him were both at a party on new years and one thing led to another, and you ended up head first into his mattress with his cock deep inside you. you both promised it would be a one time thing, but one time turned to two, three, and eventually four times.

he was the one who proposed the idea of having a little “thing.” he said you could both call it off at any time and you weren’t exclusive to each other. it didn’t sound like such a bad idea anyway. it was just mindless fun with pleasure mixed within, right?

kaiser was so fucking great in bed. whenever you two would link up, he would make sure you were shaking by the time he was done. he loved seeing the reactions your body had whenever he did something to it. you were so addictive. there were even a few times he would skip practice so he could go and fuck your brains out. if anything, you were the best workout he could ever ask for. your sweaty bodies clinging to each other afterwards was better than any drug he could ever try. he wondered where the hell you had been hiding all of this time.

tonight was a bit different, though. 

kaiser had hit you up later on in the evening. it was a bit odd since you recalled him telling you that he had a game earlier in the day. you shrugged it off, but that changed when you stepped into his nice apartment and noticed how his demeanor was different. he seemed pissed off. you could just tell from his facial expressions and how he carried himself around. 

when you both reached the bed, kaiser was a lot rougher than he usually was. your face was shoved into the pillow and your ass was sore from the amount of times he had spanked you. his pace was set quite quick as well. his balls smacked your puffy clit with every thrust, and he seemed to be taking whatever was wrong out on you. 

“fuck.. yeah, that’s right, take my fuckin’ cock..” he grunted, his fingertips dragging up your spine. “stupid fucks saying i can’t score.. wait till they see what i’m scoring every night..”

you whimpered when kaiser’s palm made contact with your ass cheeks again. a harsh slap filled your ears, making your pussy clench slightly around his cock. “k-kaiser..” your fingers curled on the sheets below you. 

he smirked, taking a fistful of your hair to yank you upwards towards him. “yeah..? you like when i fuck you like a good little slut?” he questioned. “you’re so fucking beautiful.. god, i’m gonna make you cum so hard..”

kaiser then took hold of your hips, slamming his cock into your aching hole. he could feel your pussy twitching around him, signaling you were close to your climax. he wanted to make you a fucking mess. he was the only guy that could make you see stars whenever you finally came. that’s how he knew he was good enough for you. 

“kaiser, kaiser! i’m gonna cum!” you cried, tears forming at your lash line from how intense the pleasure was.

he clenched his teeth when your cunt spasmed around his dick. you squeezed him so tightly that he hit his orgasm as well. his cum leaked into your walls, filling your womb nicely. 

kaiser then flipped you over so you were now laying on your back. sweat trickled down his body and along the blue rose tattoo that covered his neck. “wanna go for round two..? i got a lot more i wanna do to you, baby.” he grinned.

♡ OLIVER AIKU

you started seeing oliver right after your birthday party which was at one of the clubs in your city. your friends surprised you with a fun evening of drinks and dancing. it was what you needed. 

your friend caught oliver staring at you the entire night. his dual colored eyes never left your body and the way it swayed on the dance floor to the music that vibrated around the club. he was with two other guys and he didn’t seem to have a single care about what they were talking about. he was solely focused on you and your friends were trying their best to make you talk to him. you denied it a few times because you thought a guy as hot as him was probably looking at someone else, but you were wrong.

after a few drinks, you gained the confidence to walk over to him when he was by himself. he introduced himself and he seemed a little surprised to see that you came over yourself. he almost thought for a moment that he would have to be the one to get up and make a move, but he thought it was hot of you to come to him.

you two both ended up going into one of the back rooms inside of the club. oliver’s cock was bullying your walls and he had your legs over his shoulders. your pussy hugged him perfectly, and he knew damn well he was gonna like you. there was just something so alluring about you that he couldn’t get enough of. you had to be his dream girl because there was no way that you didn’t come to him for a reason.

oliver kissed you sloppily. he tugged on your lower lip with his teeth and smirked when you moaned into the kiss. “fuck.. you like that, angel? look at you.. the pretty birthday girl getting fucked by me..” he grunted while he felt your cunt clench slightly around him.

your arms were snaked around his neck. his back was covered in scratch marks that irritated his skin, but he paid no mind to them. all he could focus on was you. “y-yes! yes! fuck! ‘so good, oliver!” you threw your head back as he kissed at your g-spot.

he toyed with your puffy clit, drawing you closer to your orgasm. hearing his name come from your lips sent him into a focus that he could hardly pull away from. you were so gorgeous. you took him so fucking well. “come on, baby, cum on this dick.. i wanna see it messy.” he cooed, kissing your lips. “be a good girl for me.. yeah?”

you nodded eagerly and your thighs began to tremble when your high finally crashed over you. oliver couldn’t help but groan when your pussy clamped around his cock, milking him of what was left in his balls. his head went backwards when he felt his orgasm hitting him like a truck. he had such a tight grip on your thighs that it surely would leave a mark the next day. 

oliver sighed, chuckling at how fucked out you looked compared to an hour ago. “i wanna see you again.. maybe i’ll give you another gift for your birthday.. yeah?” he winked.

♡ SAE ITOSHI

you and sae had been hooking up for several months. the two of you met at a restaurant you were serving at, and he had slipped his number onto the receipt he used to tip you. you were a bit shocked at such an action, but nonetheless was he a hot guy you wanted to know more about.

sae was rich and he was very charming. he would make your cheeks burn whenever he flirted with you, and he got you anything you wanted. there were times you would be randomly surprised with flowers or small chocolates. your roommate thought you had a secret admirer, but you knew full well who was behind that. it was cute and you honestly loved it. sae made you happy and you were very attracted to him.

he suggested hookups because neither of you were sure about serious relationships at that moment. you were fine with that and so was he. sae did so many amazing things to your body. he would drive you crazy. there were even a few instances where you sent him videos and photos of yourself in skimpy lingerie or a nice audio where you’re moaning his name. sae fucking loved it.

sae had been away playing soccer for the past month. he finally returned home and you were so excited to see him. the second he pulled up to your building, you ran out and climbed into his car without a single thought. smelling his familiar cologne and seeing that red hair you loved so much brought back so many memories for you.

eventually, you both went to an empty parking lot and escaped to the backseat of his sleek car. you were sitting on his lap with his cock pumping into you at a quick pace. your tits bounced in his face and his hands squeezed the fat of your ass while you rode his cock. he missed you so fucking much. he hated the idea of jerking off because you weren’t there to make him cum as well. seeing you again was like a breath of fresh air. 

“sae..! right there!” your nails dug into the skin of his shoulder blades. 

he let go of your nipple with a sudden ‘pop’ sound. he loved hearing your pretty voice call out for him. “yeah..? shit, look at you..” he groaned, watching as your pussy gripped his cock. 

you pressed your forehead against his, capturing his lips in a soft kiss. his palm came to cup your cheek, feeling how warm it was. he was so close to getting to his climax. you always made him so weak. there was something in the air whenever you came around, and it was drawing sae in. this was unlike any little “thing” he had before. 

his pace rapidly shifted and became very fast. skin slapped against another and your vision went white every time sae reached that button inside of you. “sae! i’m gonna c-cum!” you cried.

sae wrapped his arms around your waist, bouncing you on his cock. “f-fuck.. me too..” he groaned, throwing his head back onto the headrest. he couldn’t help but slam your hips onto his cock to push you deeper into him. you were so cute and perfect.

you inhaled a sharp gasp when that knot in your belly snapped. a creamy white ring circled sae’s cock, making noises come from your dripping cunt. his cock twitched at how much cum came out of him from just that one orgasm. he had to lay back for a moment to catch his breath. 

you slumped against his chest, panting. you felt so tired, but you didn’t want to move. “can we stay like this..?” you titled your head to look at him.

he nodded, smiling softly at you. “of course..”

© NXUVILLETTE ┆ all rights reserved, do not repost, translate, or claim as your own.

[unclewaynemunson]

After Eddie and Max were brought into the hospital, the waiting room was packed with people. But as time passed by, it got quieter. One by one, worried parents came by to pick up their kids.

“Are you sure you don't wanna come with me?” Robin asked Steve when her mother arrived.

Steve nodded. “Go home, Rob, it's okay. Just wanna make sure Max's mom and Eddie's uncle get here.”

She shot him a worried look, but she knew him well enough to recognize when she wouldn't be able to persuade him – and Steve in turn knew that there was no way Mrs. Buckley would leave the hospital without Robin, after all that had happened that night.

So Steve stayed and waited with Lucas in Max's room for Mrs. Mayfield. When she arrived, he decided to give them some privacy and wandered over to Eddie's room a couple of doors down the hall.

He hesitated for a moment, wondering if Eddie would already have returned from the operation room – and if so, if it would be good or bad news waiting for him on the other side of the door.

He swallowed. Waiting motionlessly in the corridor wouldn't change what he'd find. So he raised his hand and slowly pushed the door open.

Eddie was inside, leaning against a pillow in his bed. He was as white as the sheets around him and he had large stitches in one of his cheeks, but other than that, he looked – alive.

“Eddie,” Steve breathed out while an overwhelming wave of relief washed over him.

It was only then that he noticed the other people in the room and stopped in his tracks.

Eddie's uncle was sitting at his bedside, wearing sweatpants and only an undershirt underneath his denim jacket. He looked exhausted, but just as relieved as Steve felt.

But that wasn't what had sparked Steve's surprise. No, the thing that Steve couldn't make sense of, was the man who was sat in the chair next to Wayne Munson. It was Steve's old middle school science teacher, Scott Clarke. He was dressed in a plaid flannel that seemed more Mr. Munson's style than his own, buttoned askew on top of a pair of striped pajama pants.

“Mr. Clarke? What are you doing here?” The question tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop himself.

“Who are you?” Mr. Munson asked Steve before Mr. Clarke could say anything. It sounded defensive on the verge of being aggressive, but Steve couldn't really blame him for that, considering what the majority of Hawkins currently thought about Eddie.

“Steve Harrington,” he said, holding out his hand.

The lines on Mr. Munson's forehead deepened.

“He's my friend,” Eddie said. His voice sounded hoarse and weak, but Steve still felt a rush of warmth course through his whole body because of the words he said. “He saved my life.”

“Oh.” Mr. Munson's eyes widened slightly and he finally took Steve's hand. “Wayne Munson. Eddie's uncle. Pleased meetin' ya.”

“It's good to see you again, Steve,” Mr. Clarke remarked. “You've grown a lot since the last time I saw you.”

“I didn't expect to see you here, Mr. Clarke,” Steve noted, still trying to make sense of what exactly his old science teacher was doing in this room.

“Uncle Scott is also my uncle,” Eddie explained.

Steve looked back and forth between Mr. Munson and Mr. Clarke, trying to find any kind of resemblance between the two of them.

“You're brothers?” he couldn't help but ask, unable to keep the astonishment out of his voice. He would never have guessed that those two men were related to each other.

“Steve, no...” Eddie's voice was almost a whisper and had an undertone of something that sounded an awful lot like exasperation. Steve knew that tone all too well; he had never been good at restraining himself from asking stupid questions, after all.

He noticed how the two men exchanged some kind of meaningful glance with each other.

“Um, I think we should go get some coffee, Wayne,” Mr. Clarke said. “Leave the boys to catch up.”

Mr. Munson nodded, but before he got up, he looked at Eddie. "You'll be alright?" he asked, a worried frown on his face.

Eddie nodded. "It's fine, Uncle Wayne." He said it softly, like he was trying to reassure his uncle, and only after Eddie gave him another emphatic nod, Mr. Munson started following Mr. Clarke out of the room.

Just when Steve realized Mr. Clarke must be Eddie's uncle from his mom's side while Mr. Munson had to be his dad's brother, Wayne let his hand linger on the small of Mr. Clarke's back. It was a tiny moment, that only lasted a second right before they went through the door, easy to miss if one weren't paying close attention. But it was still enough for Steve to understand the exasperation in Eddie's voice and the unease on his uncles' faces. That one touch told Steve all he needed to know: there was this casual, easy kind of intimacy behind it that only long-term partners shared. He had seen his parents act like that, and Mr. and Mrs. Sinclair...

“No fucking way,” he breathed out at the moment the door quietly shut behind Mr. Munson. He turned back to Eddie with wide eyes and his jaw dropped.

“Your uncle is – and he's with Scott Clarke?”

Eddie's jaw clenched. “You got a problem with that?”

In his pure astonishment, Steve barely even registered Eddie's question.

“That's impossible!” he all but exclaimed. “Here – in Hawkins? How?!”

Eddie looked slightly past Steve's face, to the bare white wall behind him. “Jesus Christ, Steve,” he said. “You've seen dozens of hell monsters and walked through an alternate dimension to fight an evil sorcerer, and this is what you decide is impossible?”

“Well, it is,” Steve stubbornly said.

He remembered how he once felt about his teammate Thomas, back in his freshman year, remembered the ache in his chest exactly because of how impossible it was. He remembered Robin talking about Tammy Thompson in that bathroom stall filled with the scent of their puke. But Tammy Thompson is a girl, he had said, in his instinctive and perhaps naive confusion - not because he deemed it impossible for Robin to feel that way about a girl, but because up until that point, he had deemed it irrelevant. He knew better than anyone that those kind of feelings would flare up from time to time around certain people, but as far as he was concerned, it didn't matter. There was no way to act on it, no point in lingering on something that was impossible to have anyway.

“They've been together for over a decade,” Eddie said. His voice suddenly lacked its usual warmth; a warmth that Steve had gotten used to over the past few days; a warmth that left a weird feeling of loss behind in Steve's chest now that it wasn't there. “They make each other happy. They don't hurt anyone with it. So don't fucking tell me it's impossible, man. They love each other, and if you're gonna be a dick about that, I'm gonna have to kindly ask you to fuck the hell off.”

“Woah, woah, woah, wait,” Steve hurriedly sputtered. “I'm not – I didn't-” The words got stuck in his throat, somehow. He didn't quite know how to explain the storm that was raging inside of him, the many emotions he felt upon discovering that there were two men happily sharing their lives together, who lived in the same town as he did. Two men who were just like him, who had figured out a way to not hide away, who had somehow found their way to each other, and who had fallen in love without it being something they needed to repress.

“I didn't know – that it could be like that,” he finally managed to stutter. “I never even imagined a future like that for myself. I didn't know – I thought we were just supposed to pretend like those parts of ourselves don't exist and marry a woman. I never met anyone who did it differently.”

Finally, Eddie averted his gaze to look at him again. His eyes were a little bit wider and he was staring at him so intensely that Steve felt something stir deep in his stomach.

“Stevie,” he said, his voice quiet and so much warmer than before in a way that sent a shiver down Steve's spine. “Jesus, I'm sorry, I had no idea. I thought you were saying..." He cut himself off and inhaled deeply, slightly shaking his head. "Listen, man, there's always a choice. I'm not saying it's easy; my uncles have to hide a lot of what they mean to each other when they're in public. They're risking Scott's job, and maybe even a whole lot more if the wrong people find out about them... But there is always a choice. They're much happier together than they would've been if they had chosen to hide and marry a woman, or if they'd spent their whole lives alone.”

Steve had to take a moment to let Eddie's words sink in. Eddie merely kept looking at him, not making a single sound, patiently waiting for him to get his thoughts straight again.

“Are there more people like them, here in Hawkins?” Steve finally asked.

“Not many,” Eddie answered. “Most people who are different move to the bigger cities, where you're a bit more free to be yourself. But they're friends with this lesbian couple who lives a few streets over. And they know some people in Indy, but Wayne refuses to move there. He's too much of a small town boy, he says.” Eddie rolled his eyes at that last part, as if he could in no way comprehend the thought of preferring Hawkins over a big city like Indianapolis.

But Steve did comprehend it. Hawkins was his home. Even after everything that happened to him here, it was where he belonged. It was where everyone he cared about was. He wasn't naive, he knew that that was bound to change at some point, but he had never dared to dream about going someplace else himself. He had never even dared to dream about being someone else. Yet here he was, sitting at the bedside of a boy whose eyes he hadn't stopped thinking about for days.

Maybe it was about time to change his perception of what was possible and what wasn't.

“I know one person who's like – like me,” he admitted. He wanted to tell Eddie about Robin. He knew that there was nothing to worry about – but he also knew it wasn't up to him to share her secret. “I don't know if this is a weird idea," he continued, "but maybe we could all, like, get together sometime. Your uncle, mister Clarke, their lesbian friends...” The idea of it made him feel weirdly excited. He couldn't really imagine what it would be like, to spend a whole evening surrounded by people he had this one thing in common with.

“Not a weird idea,” Eddie told him, that soft look still shining in his big brown eyes. “Sounds awesome, actually.”

“If we do something like that...” Steve hesitated for a moment. “Would you be there too?”

Despite the stitches in his cheek, Eddie managed to smile, dimples and all. He raised a pale hand and pulled a strand of his hair across his face, like he was trying to hide something written on the skin around his lips. “I thought that was obvious,” he said with a chuckle.

Steve chuckled as well. “Just needed to be sure,” he admitted.

He stretched out his hand and put it on top of Eddie's, where it was resting on top of the sheets. It only took a few seconds: he gently squeezed Eddie's hand, then pulled back again, still nervous and not quite knowing what exactly they were headed towards. But no matter how short, the touch still sent sparks through his whole body.

“I'm glad you're alive,” he said, softly.

Eddie's smile became just a little bit wider, and a faint blush colored his pale cheeks. “Me too, big boy. Believe me, me too.”

(I wrote this bc this post by @boldlyvoid refused to leave my brain for literal months)

[samuelsdean]

You Think I'm Delicious?

pairing: spencer reid x reader

summary: all your dreams and hopes of getting cuddly with spencer were shattered when he uttered those six words.

“i don’t like your new perfume.”

genre: fluff & crack

word count: 1.9k

author's notes: here's a spencer reid fluff without plot, just crack (i tried so i hope you'll laugh while reading this). anyway, enjoy reading this one!

THE THING ABOUT DR. SPENCER REID IS THAT HE’S A VERY SENSITIVE PERSON. He's very particular about stuff like his dislikes for certain textures and not knowing about something—making him a good researcher by the way, because if he doesn't know something, you'll find him poring through books—and even certain smells aren't an exception. One might think that this is normal with his job because, of course, he does. He has probably smelled dead bodies more than he has smelled fresh flowers. Of course, he hates smells like rotten flesh. Disgusting, honestly. But, what can he do? That is part of his job.

So, when he suddenly tugged you to his side one day to hug you, you were excited for him to take note of your new perfume and love it. No, you were certain he’d love it just as much as you did when you first took a whiff at the store. You just had to buy it because you were sure he’d go crazy over your smell. He’d tuck his face into your neck and shower you with pecks. Because despite what everyone else thinks they know about Spencer having an aversion to touch, he was quite the cuddler when he was in love. And yes, you were the lucky recipient of his comforting hugs 24/7. 

However, all your dreams and hopes of getting cuddly with Spencer were shattered when he uttered those six words.

“I don’t like your new perfume.”

Your jaw dropped as soon as he said that distressing sentence. Meanwhile, Spencer was quick to move away from you and continue what he was doing previously—playing chess by himself. Sometimes, if only you didn’t love your boyfriend and didn’t have to face charges, you would strangle him for a lot of things. One of which was being nonchalant after just dropping a bomb like that. What does he mean by you smell bad? You bought a citrus-scented perfume that hurt your pockets; you’ll have to give up your afternoon snacks at the cafe near the FBI headquarters. So, like any good partner out there, you just had to instigate a little argument over your new perfume.

“Excuse me?”

Your boyfriend looked up at your incredulous tone, merely raising a brow at you as if to ask, “What’s up?” This almost got your eye twitching, but you refrained. Taking a breath, you plastered a sickly sweet smile on your face and clarified your previous question.

“What do you mean you don’t like my new perfume?”

Spencer started reddening at your accusatory tone and shrugged halfheartedly, which made you raise one perfectly formed brow at your boyfriend. Now, you’re curious why your boyfriend blushed at your question.

He may be quite shy, but Spencer wasn’t the best when it came to social cues. He rarely gets embarrassed about something unless you blatantly point it out. You could probably count on one hand the number of times he flushed pink. A funny memory you have of him reddening like a tomato was when the BAU were out interviewing streetwalkers. Despite his social awkwardness, Spencer was propositioned by all the women he talked to. You could still remember the exact look he had on his face when he had to pull his tie away from the woman, who was busy rolling it on her fingers.

God, he’s so precious, you’d keep him in your pocket if you could. But right now, he isn’t your favorite person, and you’d love nothing more than to figure out why he was blushing. You were sure there was something behind all those burning cheeks.

“Spencer,” you slowly enunciated the syllables of his name, making him look at you once again. He tilted his head in question as you sighed dramatically, “Out with it.”

“What?”

“You’re flushed pink. You’re picking at your nails, and your right knee just started bouncing.” You pointed it out, and Spencer tried to remedy every single thing you mentioned. “Baby, for a profiler, you’re not doing great at hiding stuff. Tell me what’s going on.”

He scowled and crossed his arms like a petulant child, definitely wishing you weren’t a profiler, and a damn good one at that, like him. You merely chuckled at his antics and crossed your arms in retaliation. No, you weren’t backing away from this one. You spent money on perfume, hoping your boyfriend would love it. But no, he hated it, and now, you have to know why.

You could hear the ticking of the wall clock—if you focused hard enough—with the way not a single sound could be heard from the both of you waiting for the other to cave—not even a phone call from Garcia telling you that you have a case and, you have to be in the office in fifteen minutes could disrupt your focus right now. You could say the same about your boyfriend right now, who is intently staring at your phones on the table. He was probably hoping a work call would come through to save his ass from getting interrogated by you. It’s kind of sick that one would want to hear a new body was found, but at least you’d be out there catching another bad guy and locking them up, never to see the light of day until their last breath. He would rather have a face-off with a murderer than his girlfriend, whom he’s pretty sure is close to resorting to violence for borderline calling her stinky—not really, you’re just dramatic like that.

“Well, for starters, I think it’s strong like I’m drowning in it,” Spencer emphasized the word strong, making your brows furrow. He didn’t have that problem with your previous perfume, and it was stronger—he’s hiding something. You stared pointedly at your boyfriend now, who was fidgeting like crazy under your scrutiny.

“Are you sure that’s it? You didn’t have that problem with my previous perfume, which I’m pretty sure is much stronger than this one.” You clarified, tilting your head to the side as you explained further. “Garcia loved the smell of flowers, but she told me she sneezed every time I passed by. She had to ask me to change the scents immediately. And despite the complaints, you loved it so much that you would tuck your face into my neck.”

At this point, Spencer looked like he was about to burst from an aneurysm with how red he had gotten. You couldn’t help but feel a little bit sorry, but you also had to make him suffer. 

“Tell me, Spencer. Or else, I might just have to resort to other tactics.” You almost cackled at the way your boyfriend looked like he’d rather start digging a hole for him to bury himself in. “And you know, I’m a great profiler. I always get what I want.”

However, as soon as you said those words, you noticed Spencer’s eyes drifting towards a half-full bottle sitting on his little desk filled with heaps of paperwork.

Oh. That’s the problem.

“Baby, I think I know what the problem is here.”

Spencer quickly leaped off your couch to avoid getting teased by you—which wasn’t your plan at all, by the way—and was about to run into your bedroom, but you were quick on your feet and were able to catch his arm and pull him towards you. Yep, unfortunately for your boyfriend, you were better when it came to physical activities.

Although you were better at that angle, you still weren’t able to properly estimate the way you pulled him into you because both of you ended up toppling over on your couch. Luckily, it was the couch, because you’re sure Hotch would have your heads served on a platter if both of his agents were injured and there was a sudden case.

You both landed unceremoniously, with Spencer squeaking as he ended up face-first into your chest, and you groaned as you cushioned his fall. Choosing to pause for a moment, you ran your hands through his brown curls as you both tried to catch your breath. Spencer seemed to agree with that idea as he started inhaling your scent, which made you smile a bit.

“You know, it’s not that I hate your perfume because it smells bad.” Spencer started explaining in a hushed tone, “I just liked it better when you smelled like me.”

Your eyes widened at his confession. This was the first time Spencer had ever said something possessive. Despite not being the usual alpha male girls go for, Spencer had enough confidence in himself that you chose him out of all the guys out there you could’ve gone for. At the start of your relationship, you made it clear to him that he was the one you wanted to be with. Not someone as domineering as Hotch or someone as bold as Morgan.

No, you wanted Spencer. 

You wanted to be with Spencer.

So, you were shocked at your boyfriend’s display of possessiveness, but at the same time, you found it cute that he wanted you to smell like him. It wasn’t every day that he wanted to engage in a public display of affection. And just like any other girlfriend out there who enjoyed the attention you got from your boyfriend, you laughed as you tried to pull Spencer’s face towards yours.

“God, you’re so adorable, Dr. Reid,” you exclaimed as you peppered his face with pecks and pinched his cheeks as he tried to dodge, embarrassed after saying he wanted you to use his perfume, “I could eat your face!”

“We don’t want that." Spencer said, "The BAU would lose two of their best agents with me inside your gastrointestinal tract and you in jail for cannibalism.”

You rolled your eyes at him as he blinked at you innocently. Sometimes, you hate his brain. 

“Stop taking things literally!" You exclaimed to your boyfriend, "You know what I’m talking about!”

“I don’t.” Spencer frowned. You could hear the cogs in his brain start working, meaning he was about to spew out some facts. “Actually, our senses of smell and taste are directly related. They both use the same types of receptors, so if you smell something that you think is delicious, this triggers the same area of the brain that activates our salivary glands. Wait, you think I’m delicious?”

You facepalmed yourself. For a guy with an IQ of 187, your boyfriend could be an idiot.

“You’re an idiot.”

“No, I’m not!” Spencer protested and explained some more, “Seeing an object, food, or even a person that is pleasing to the eye can cause people to salivate. Pleasant smells such as your favorite food, your partner’s natural scent, or smelling perfume on your partner can stimulate the production of saliva more than looking at that person. This process can initiate feelings of wanting to eat or bite.”

Despite his protests, you simply clucked and pinched his nose. Wanting to retaliate, Spencer continued spilling his tangents.

“Aha! You like me so much, my smell makes you want to bite me!”

“You know what, Spence?” You asked sweetly at your boyfriend, who was now listening intently to you. He’ll never know what hit him. “I love you so much, but I preferred it when you got embarrassed about wanting me to smell like you.”

By your admission, Spencer started blushing profusely again as he tried to bury his face in your neck.

“Shut up!”

“I love you too, Spence.”

[bad268]

I had a thought.... and I don't know if its a good or bad one, so let me know what you think

I was thinking Arvid or Ollie were reader is apart of the royal family (maybe Prince Edwards daughter) and they go to silverstone.

love your writing btw 🙈

Everybody's A Ferrari Fan (Ollie Bearman X Royal! Reader)

Fandom: RPF/F2/F3

Requested: Clearly (it's not bad, i love royal readers <3)

Warnings: None

POV: Second Person (You/your)

W.C. 2027

Summary: Silverstone weekend gets a little more interesting when Ollie learns the reader is a royal.

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

~~(^Pinterest)

Silverstone was a spectacle. It always has been, and it always will be. Being part of the royal family meant you were expected to attend. Your older sister wasn’t into the sport, your younger brother found it cool but didn’t care for it, and your parents were just there for appearances. You, however, would go to the race with your grandmother anytime you could, and you found it all fascinating. You were even there to meet Lewis Hamilton on multiple occasions. 

Since you were 18 now, you were hoping to convince your family to let you go alone. You promised to uphold all of the normal obligations they would do. It did not take nearly as much convincing since they had more pressing royal duties related to your grandfather to attend to. They let you, as long as you behaved. No problem there! 

When the day finally came, you walked down the pitlane with a few of your guards. Despite wanting to support your favorite teams, it was against your dress code. You could not have any logos, so you hid a few bracelets under your sleeves. You also had a few extras in case you met some new friends or drivers. 

Yesterday was Friday, so there was not much for you to do on track. You just visited with some of the British drivers. You met with Lewis again. He introduced you to George and Lando, and when you met Lando, he introduced you to Oscar. 

“Did you know I’m 1/16 British?” Oscar joked. It was something you had seen, and it was funny to see it play out in front of you.

“No way!” You joked back. “Maybe we’ll find out you're related to the royal family!”

“Oh don’t tell him that!” Lando groaned, immediately walking away. He walked over to Andrea, and you saw them having a discussion before looking over to you and Oscar.

“I guess that’s my queue to leave,” You sighed as you moved to head out of the garage. “Good luck in the sessions today, and if I don’t see you for the rest of the weekend, good luck in the race.”

“Thank you, Your Highness,” Oscar responded with a bow as you left. You had a few minutes before your guards were meant to take you up to the viewing box, but you were interested in meeting some of the Formula 2 and Formula 3 drivers. 

You sent a quick text to your head guard where you were going before sneaking off to a bathroom. You changed into some Ferrari merch you bought because everyone is a Ferrari fan and put on a mask, so no one would recognize you. You threw on a hat to cover up your hair and sunglasses to hide your face before taking off toward the support paddock. 

Given that free practice 1 was starting, there was not a lot of traffic in the support paddock, so you were able to walk freely between trailers. Since there weren’t a lot of people there, you pulled the mask down. You looked around in awe of everything. Maybe you were distracted by everything, but it did not take long for you to run into someone. A tall boy around your age immediately wrapped his arms around your waist, keeping you from falling down. Your hands grasped at his shoulders in shock as you looked up at him. 

“I am so sorry,” You said after a beat, still in too much shock to move, but he didn’t move either. 

“Don’t mention it,” He responds before helping you stand up straight. He glanced down and took note of your attire. “Ferrari fan?”

“Isn’t everyone?” You joked, gesturing to his shirt. “Where did you get that? It looks like one of the team kits! Either that or it’s a really good knockoff.”

“No, it’s official,” He chuckled as he blushed. Your eyes widened as your jaw dropped, realizing he was a driver. “I’m in the Ferrari Driver Academy, but I race in F2. My name is Ollie.”

“Y/n,” You responded in awe. “Wait, Ollie as in Ollie Bearman? You made your F1 debut this year and you swept Baku last year, right?”

“Yeah,” He said bashfully as he looked anywhere but at you. 

“Well, first off, congrats,” You praised, “Second, are you excited for qualifying? That’s happening later today right?”

“Yeah, it’s in a couple of hours, and I love Silverstone,” Ollie started. “I love racing in front of my home crowd and I think I have a good chance to win or podium at least. I topped practice, so I’m confident we’ll have the speed to be at the top.”

“I have full confidence you will do your country proud,” You smiled as you heard him rant. It was nice to hear someone so passionate about winning in front of their home country. Then you realized you were probably keeping him from something. “Oh, I should probably leave you to whatever you were going to do before. I’m sorry for holding you up and running into you.”

“I was just heading to my garage if you want to come with me,” Ollie offered, holding out his hand for you. “I can get you in a good spot to watch the race.”

“Only if I can sit in your car,” You giggled as you took his hand and followed him to the Prema trailer. That’s where you stayed on Friday. You sent update texts to your guards every 30 minutes, so they wouldn’t come looking for you. Even then, that didn’t stop them from trying to find you. They couldn’t.

You made sure to tell Ollie you would see him on Saturday, and that you would be supporting him.  You got his number, promising to text him when you got to the track. You left the Prema garage and changed back to your original outfit. You hid the clothes back in your bag along with the mask before finding your guards and leaving for the night.

Saturday morning, you went to the track super early. You wanted to go to the Prema garage again, but everything was stacked against you. Well, not exactly.

You wanted to separate from your guards, but it seemed virtually impossible. Thankfully, they trusted Lewis, so when Lewis and Toto decided to watch the F2 sprint from the Prema garage in support of Kimi, you asked to join them. You were allowed to, but the guards would be outside of the garage the whole time. Once you three got into the garage, you pulled Lewis aside.

“If I change out of this, will you say anything?” You whispered, pulling Lewis down a hall. You were always close with Lewis, and you knew he would vouch for you. “I just want to enjoy the race as a spectator.”

“Yeah, I’ll even cover for you,” Lewis said as he pointed toward the bathroom. You ran over to change back into your Ferrari outfit and put the mask, hat, and sunglasses back on before returning to Lewis. “Ferrari merch? Really? What happened to Mercedes?”

“Everybody’s a Ferrari fan,” You chuckled again, “And you’re going to be in Ferrari next year. I’m just ahead of the curve.”

“Are you sure it’s not because a certain Ferrari driver caught your eye?” Lewis teased as you walked toward the pitlane. Since there were no guards, you were free to let loose a little. 

“Oh Lewis, I see you’ve met my new friend!” A new voice joined as you two stepped outside of the garage. It was Ollie preparing for the sprint race.

“Oh, not who I thought,” Lewis said to himself as he turned and walked over to Toto and Kimi. Just before he got too far away, he turned around and shouted, “Good luck getting your parents’ approval!”

“What was that about?” Ollie asked as he walked up behind you.

“My parents are hard to please, and Lewis reads me better than I read myself,” You chuckled almost to yourself, but Ollie heard it.

“What do you mean about Lewis knowing you? How do you even know Lewis?” Ollie retorted as you both walked around his car. “Before you get into that, did you still want to sit in the car?”

“Yes, please!” You replied enthusiastically as you took his hand. He helped you get into the car before handing you the steering wheel, so you could have the full experience. You turned the wheel a few times, jokingly making car noises as you did so, causing both of you to laugh. “This is so cool and bigger than I imagined.”

“Could be because I’m taller than you,” Ollie answered offhandedly, leaning over the halo.

“Ollie, I loved hanging out with you yesterday. It was so fun to just be a normal person, doing normal people things for a day,” You started, looking up at him.

“Well, I don’t think this is considered ‘normal people things’, but okay,” Ollie chuckled, not understanding where you were going with this.

“It's more normal than I’m used to,” You chuckled as well. “Ollie, does my name ring any bells to you?”

“Not that I can think of,” Ollie trailed off, confused. “Should I?”

“Should you? Maybe. Do I want you to? No,” You admitted, looking back at the steering wheel. “Ollie, I like being with you, and I want to explore something with you. I’m just afraid when you find out who I am, you’ll leave. Everyone always does.”

“I won’t leave,” Ollie said immediately. “Anyone would be a fool to leave you because I’ve enjoyed being with you too. You’re fun to be around, and you make me feel like a normal teenager and not Ollie Bearman, the F2 driver.”

“And you make me feel like a normal teenager and not Lord/Lady Y/n Windsor, heir to the British throne,” You whispered back, shyly looking up at him. His jaw was dropped, but as soon as you made eye contact, he snapped his mouth closed. “Does that intimidate you?”

“Not really,” He tried to play off, but you saw straight through him as you gazed at him through your lashes. “Okay, a little, but so what? It’s only a little scary, but I’m willing to work for it.”

“Even if it means proving yourself to the Prince Edward and the Dutchess Sophie of Edinburgh?” You were afraid of the answer, but his response shocked you.

“I ready to work for it,” Ollie said immediately. “They’re Ferrari fans right?”

“They don’t really care about F1,” You chuckled. “They couldn’t care less, so you’ve got that going for you. They’ll probably appreciate that you’re British.”

“At least my nationality is benefiting me,” Ollie joked, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of your head. “At least I have that going for me.”

“And if you know any other languages, that might help,” You joked back. “They like multilingual people.”

“And luckily, I have to speak Italian to be in Ferrari and Prema,” Ollie quipped back quickly. “I also live in Italy, so it would be hard not to know the language.”

“Hate to break up a possible love story here, but Ollie needs to get in the car,” Lewis interrupted, and that’s when you noticed the mass amount of people staring at you. “He does still have a race to do.”

“I guess I can get out then,” You chuckled as Ollie helped you out of the car. He kept his arms around your waist as he steadied you on the ground. You pulled the mask down momentarily to place a short kiss on his cheek before whispering, “Good luck out there. I expect to see you on the top step.”

“I’ll try my best, but I’m starting 10th,” Ollie whispered back with a smile. “One of the cons of being on pole for the feature.”

“I’ll be manifesting for you to pull a Baku sweep again,” You said as you pulled away to stand by Lewis. You and Lewis walked over to the pit wall as the cars went out to the grid. Hopefully, Ollie could win this weekend.

~~~~~

© BAD268 2024. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

[flowerandblood]

The Lost Haven (6/16)

[ modern mafia • Aemond x niece • female ]

[ warnings: uprotected sex, incest obviously, smut, the angst, injection of a sleeping drug, violence, bad, bad things ]

[ description: The vacation from eight years ago still haunts his memories and doesn't let him forget what happened between him and his niece, the daughter of his sister and Harwin Strong. Their paths separate and he immerses himself in his father's mafia world until the day she calls him for the first time since those events. Sexual tension, dark, dangerous, withdrawn, thirsty Aemond. ]

Author’s note: As promised, this is another, this time official modern version of The Fall from the Heavens. In this version, Daemon is not related to the family, but is simply Rhaenyra's husband and the leader of the second gang, Alys and Larys are also not related to each other, but Larys is Harwin's brother. I will partly refer to the original series, hiding some easter eggs, and some will be a completely new, fresh plot. As in every universe, only Aemond calls her Rhaenys and this is not her real name (she is unnamed character and the others also do not know that he calls her that). There will be a lot more brutality and angst in this version, so watch out. You can read this as a standalone story.

Series & Characters Moodboard Aemond & Rhaenys Moodboard

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

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She had felt the closeness of his body all night: his arms locked her in his embrace every time she rolled over on the bed, with a murmur of satisfaction finding with her a new position in which he could snuggle into her.

Although he kept his hand on her bare buttock, desperately wanting to feel her skin, she did not perceive this touch as sexual per se: there was a need for physical affection in him that only another living, warm body could give.

He smelled of alcohol, cigarettes, mint gum and intense, masculine perfume. This combination dulled her and relaxed her making her fall asleep again immediately even when she woke up, his touch, his presence, their bodies entwined together soothed her.

She was sure that in the morning he would wake up horrified by everything that had happened, begging her to go to the pharmacy to get the pill that would prevent any unplanned pregnancy, the effects of their ill-considered excess.

He, however, took her again, more tenderly and slowly, making her feel so good, too good, because, after all, it should feel bad, it should be disgusting, it should hurt.

But it didn't.

She was too wet, he slid into her too easily, he was trying too hard to rub against the spot from which shivers of pleasure ran through her, making her womanhood twitch with convulsions of sweet ecstasy.

She felt remorse for not standing up to him, for opening her thighs to him twice even though she had promised herself that it would never happen, that it was just her hideous deviation that she would keep to herself forever.

"Are you taking pills?" He asked when it was all over, and she froze, snapped out of her reverie.

"No." She muttered, knowing what he meant, what he was going to say.

She felt like vomiting at the thought.

He surprised her when his lips placed a warm, gentle kiss on her cheek.

"It's your body. But know that I'd like to be the father of your child. Someday. You decide when. If ever." He whispered in her ear and she froze completely, shocked.

I'd like to be the father of your child.

Someday.

If ever.

How could he say something like that?

She felt a twinge of regret towards herself that something in his words brought her a strange relief.

He couldn't be her boyfriend, her husband, but he could be the father of her children.

"I…I don't know what I'll do yet. I need to think about it." She mumbled, feeling her heart pounding like crazy, not knowing what she was supposed to respond to his words.

She heard him swallow hard, as if something hurt him in what she said.

"Let me know when you've made your decision about...you know. Please." He whispered, and she felt a squeeze in her throat at the thought that he wanted to know what she was going to do.

Whether or not she would buy the pill in the pharmacy.

She pressed her lips together at the thought that even if she complied with his request, it wouldn't change anything.

"So that you won't answer me?" She asked in a shaky voice, hearing him lift himself on his arm at her words.

"I'll. I swear I'll. Hey. Hey, look at me." He said, but she didn't believe him, because she knew he would hurt her again.

They were destined to do so.

It was just a pleasant dream, nothing more.

"I mean it. I swear. I…" He didn't get to finish because they both flinched and pulled away from each other, terrified when they heard a loud banging on her door.

"Open up." Daemon called out and they both stood up as if burned, dressing quickly.

"Wait a minute!" She said, handing him his shoes and jacket.

"Go to the toilet." She whispered to him, running quickly to the door herself when she heard him lock himself in the room.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!

She swallowed loudly, trying to control her panic and opened it, looking at her step-father with big eyes. She opened her mouth, but he spoke up first.

"Get changed, we're leaving immediately." He said dryly, looking her over from top to bottom, his brow furrowed.

Did she overlook something?

Could he see what she had just done?

"But why so sudden? I'd like to have breakfast. Has something happened?" She muttered, trying to sound as casual as possible.

"Viserys is dead." He said, and she froze, feeling her heart stuck in her throat.

With a remnant of her strong will she held herself up from looking behind her, towards the toilet.

God, he'd definitely heard that.

"– what? – but –"

"They called the ambulance, Alicent found him dead in his bed. Who was banging on your door last night?" He asked, and she swallowed hard, feeling a cold sweat run down her back.

She couldn't lie, she had to think of something.

"Aemond. We talked about the past." She whispered, looking at him pleadingly, asking him to leave it alone.

"Is he here?" He asked coldly, stepping inside, looking around the room. His step headed towards the toilet, and she stood in his way.

"Y-yes. He was drunk and fell asleep on the floor. You scared me, we didn't know what to do." She muttered, feeling burning tears of shame and horror under her eyelids, the fear that squeezed her lungs made her breathe with difficulty.

One more time, just this one more time let me lie, she thought.

Please, this one more time.

"Get out of there. Now." He directed his words towards the door, which opened a moment later.

Her uncle came out of there pale, trembling all over, though she had no idea whether from fear or because of what he had heard.

"Go to your mother. She needs you now. Your older brother is completely drunk." Her step-father said, and her uncle passed them without a word and left, not even bestowing a single glance on them.

She pressed her lips into a thin line, clenching her thighs together, feeling his semen begin to flow down her leg.

She took a deep breath, trying not to burst into sobs and to keep up appearances that nothing had happened.

When Daemon's hand touched her head and pulled her to him, making her hit his chest, when his arms closed her in a secure embrace, she burst out into a loud, miserable cry.

She was pathetic, she was dirty, she was worthless, a simple whore, a vessel for his seed.

He did what he wanted with her, and she allowed him to.

"We'll go to the pharmacy. We'll sort it out. Don't worry." He said, and she felt both gratitude and horror at his words.

We'll sort it out.

He knew.

Her distraught mother went with Alicent and her siblings, and she, Daemon and her brothers were to return home together. On her way out of the building she spotted her uncle smoking a cigarette, his gaze blank and absent, directed somewhere in the distance.

He heard their footsteps and turned, meeting her gaze – the way he lowered his head in shame, looking away made her feel tears under her eyelids.

Of course it had ended like that.

It was just a dream, nothing more.

"We'll stop at the pharmacy on the way. Your sister is feeling unwell." Communicated Daemon as they set off, driving out of the car park.

She looked at her uncle again through the window and saw that he was looking at her, his eyebrows arched in pain, his lips parted, as if he regretted letting her go without saying goodbye.

She swallowed hard, resting her forehead against the glass, unable to focus on Jace's or Luke's questions, fearing what would now happen to their grandfather's business.

That's what everyone was wondering now, she thought.

As they drove down to the shopping arcade near their house, Daemon stopped in the parking lot and looked at her over his shoulder.

"Are you going to manage on your own or should I come with you?" He asked, and she felt her heart squeeze with pain.

She was afraid.

"Can you come with me?" She muttered, feeling tear after tear begin to run down her cheeks. Jace touched her shoulder, terrified.

"Do you feel that bad? Did you poison yourself with something?" He asked and she nodded, looking straight into her step-father's eyes.

"Yes. Yes, I poisoned myself with something very badly."

The experience of walking into a pharmacy with her step-father to buy a morning-after pill was one of the strangest and most uncomfortable things she had experienced in her life.

The lady pharmacist looked at Daemon grimly, as if she assumed he was responsible for all the fuss, putting her into a state of utter embarrassment.

Even though she tried to stand up to him, Daemon paid up and told her to hide the pack in her backpack as soon as they walked out of there.

"Read the leaflet carefully. Do everything as it says."

"I know." She muttered, for some reason bursting out crying again, wiping her reddened cheeks with her hand, trying not to think about the curious stares of other people around them.

"Everything has consequences. It will be fine. Don't worry. I won't say anything to your mother." He said, and she nodded.

It was the right thing to do, the logical thing to do, the safe thing to do.

This was the right thing to do.

When they got home, she went upstairs to her room and locked herself in, saying she wanted to take a shower. Daemon and her brothers were waiting for a call from her mother, and her stepsisters were in classes, so she had apparent peace and quiet.

For now.

She sat down on her bed and pulled a small packet with one pill inside from her backpack. She unrolled the leaflet and started to read, but couldn't concentrate.

I'd like to be the father of your child.

Why did he say that?

Did he want to have a clear conscience?

She swallowed hard, burying her face in her hands, not understanding why she had doubts.

After all, she was so young, still going to university. How would she explain her pregnancy? What would she tell her mother? That it was casual unprotected sex with a stranger, that she could have taken the morning-after pill but was an idiot?

She wanted to call him, to talk to him, but immediately afterwards she thought that he would tell her anything so that he himself would not feel remorse, the end result being that she would be left with a swollen belly, grief and humiliation alone.

She pressed her lips together and took the tablet out of the packet, grabbing for the bottle of water standing on her bedside table and hesitated, wanting to put it into her mouth.

Yes.

No.

I don't want to.

But it's the right thing to do.

I don't want to.

But I can't do it alone.

I don't want to.

I could love this child.

I have always wanted to be a mother.

I'm scared.

No one will understand.

I don't want to.

She closed her eyes, stood up, went into her bathroom and threw the pill into the toilet, flushing it down, letting it flow along with her certainty that what she had done would have no consequences.

It will be what is meant to be, she thought, sitting down with no strength on the cold tiles, feeling an emptiness in her heart.

When Daemon asked her if she had done the right thing she said yes.

She wasn't sure if he believed her or not, but he stroked her head anyway before walking out and leaving her alone.

By the time their mother got home it was late in the evening: from what she had managed to overhear it appeared that Viserys was really dead, that he had died in his sleep, that he had not suffered and that she was to go to the notary in two days' time to hear his last will.

That was what everyone was worried about.

What share of the estate would go to whom.

She shuddered, feeling the vibration of her phone in her hand, and froze when she looked at the display.

Aemond.

He was calling her.

She swallowed hard, locking herself immediately in her room, panicked, feeling her heart pounding like crazy.

She answered the call and put the phone to her ear, hearing a noise on the other end, as if someone was driving a car.

"Yes?"

She heard him grunt, as if he was afraid of what he was about to say.

"How are you?"

What kind of question was that?

What was she supposed to answer that?

It was great sex, uncle, maybe we'll be parents soon?

"I don't know." She said, walking closer to the window, not wanting anyone in the corridor to hear that she was on the phone.

She heard him swallow hard, feeling involuntarily how difficult it was for him.

Why was she making excuses for him so easily?

"Did you…go to the pharmacy?" He asked finally.

"Yes."

"And?"

"No."

There was silence on the other side for a moment.

"No, what?"

"I wasn't able to do it. I don't expect anything from you." She said in a trembling voice. "I'll manage on my own. If it turns out that…"

She didn't finish, preferring not to say it out loud.

She heard the sound of the key turning on the other side and the silence indicating that he had turned off the engine.

"I want this. If it's going to happen. I want to be a part of it."

"It sounds right only in your head."

"No. I mean it."

She closed her eyes and swallowed hard, wanting to tell him first that she didn't need his pity, but reminded herself after a moment that this was the day his father had died.

She sighed quietly, looking out the window at the courtyard of her house.

"And you? How do you feel? With everything that's happened."

"Depends on what you ask." He replied, but his tone of voice changed, becoming cool again.

"About your father."

"We knew he was seriously ill. That this was probably his last birthday."

They were quiet for a moment, however there was something warm in that silence, some kind of understanding and comfort.

"You said you didn't regret it." He said finally, and she drew in a loud breath at the memory of what they had done.

She didn't know what she was supposed to answer.

She was sad, bitter, disappointed, but did she regret it?

No.

"I still think so. But I didn't get my hopes up about anything, if that's what you're aiming for. Daemon won't tell anyone about this. He won't…"

"Why was it so right?"

She froze, feeling heat in her lower abdomen at his question.

"Since it was wrong. So fucking wrong." He continued, as if his darkest, most disturbing thoughts were pouring out of him. "Then why it was so pleasant?"

"The forbidden fruit tempts most." She whispered.

She heard him swallow loudly, drawing in air deeply, as if something in her words pained him.

"Is that what it was for you?"

"I don't know. And for you?" She asked angrily, not understanding what he wanted to hear from her after so many years of silence, after he had come to her room in the middle of the night without a word of explanation and fucked her like there was going to be no tomorrow.

"I wanted…nevermind." He hissed.

"No. Say it." She demanded, hearing him twist in his seat.

"For eight years you pretended I didn't exist, I deserve this." She said in pain, feeling a squeeze in her throat so strong that she ran out of breath.

Don't hang up, please don't hang up.

"I want to try." He said at last, so quietly and uncertainly that she barely heard him.

"I don't understand."

"I would like to study archaeology. You wrote me that if I asked you to, you would help me get into university." He mumbled like a small, embarrassed child, startling her completely.

What?

"I…well, but…there are only two months left to submit the documents. What day is today? Thursday. Are you thinking about full-time or part-time studies?" She asked, walking over to her calendar, trying to count in her head how much time they had.

God, there was a desire in him to change something.

She knew that if she discouraged him, she might soon find out that someone had shot him in the head.

"Only part-time classes are an option." He replied finally. "Is it manageable? Do they have any…requirements?"

"Passed final exams in high school, preferably in history or a language." She explained. "There are also entrance exams, but they are not difficult."

"I had the best result in the history final exam in the whole class." He muttered and she nodded, feeling a rush of adrenaline.

"Good. That's very good, Aemond. It can be done. If you want, come to my University tomorrow, we can talk to my professor about whether a personal teaching plan would come into play if you got in."

"Is there such a thing?"

"Yes, for students who are working at the same time."

"Really?" He asked, a note of hope in his voice that made her heart clench.

"Yes. Text me when you can be there, the professor has class until 3 p.m. Okay?"

"Okay."

"See you tomorrow." She said and hung up, looking at her phone screen in disbelief.

She didn't know why she jumped up and down with happiness, why she believed that things would change, that she would really get him back.

She wanted so badly to know that there was still hope for both of them.

Throughout the next day she feared he would give up and not come.

She thought with horror that he was, after all, a complete stranger to her.

What did she know about him?

Despite her doubts, he finally wrote to her.

How did he know where he was supposed to arrive?

She figured he might have looked it up on the internet and went out to meet him, intending to pick him up from the car park. When she saw his car pull into the driveway she approached him, keeping a safe distance. He got out of the car and automatically reached into his jacket for his pack of cigarettes.

"There's no smoking allowed on University premises." She said.

He lowered his hand in a gesture of impatience, furrowing his brow.

"Are you fucking serious?"

"Yes. Let's go. We'll find my professor in the teachers' common room, he's just having a break between lectures." She said, and he moved behind her, looking around at the walls of the large, brick, old building from the 19th century.

"Does he know I'm coming?" He asked uncertainly, clearly tense.

People passing him looked at his face, at his scar.

She felt uncomfortable with the thought, angry for some reason that he couldn't just walk down the corridor in peace.

Was it always like this?

In the shop, in the office, in the restaurant, at school?

Everyone looking at him.

"Yes."

When they got there she knocked on the right door. Her professor, Mr Addams, was a hearty, grey-haired, rather short man with big glasses and a short, elegantly trimmed beard. He was a man of great passion and they immediately found a common language through which he began to take her on his private excavations as a help.

In this way, she managed to collect any savings of her own.

"Professor. This is my friend I mentioned to you." She said, glancing over her shoulder, her uncle's face pale and terrified, his healthy eye wide open.

Good God.

Her professor held out his hand to him, and to her relief he showed any social reflexes and shook it.

"My pleasure. Miss Strong spoke of you in all superlatives. Please, let's go to my office." He said, moving briskly down the corridor with a bundle of keys in his hand, and they moved to follow him.

Mr Addams opened the door to the room and invited them inside into a small study with a high window, all lined with wooden panelled walls, an oak bookcases filled to the brim with books, a desk and several chairs all around it.

The professor sat behind the table, sighing heavily, indicating their seats on the opposite side.

"I'm listening." He said, and she looked at her uncle. He gave her a horrified look, convinced apparently that she would do everything for him.

"So. My friend didn't have the opportunity to study because of his job. I was wondering if there would be the possibility of personal teaching plan or part-time study in that case." She said finally. The man raised his eyebrows and scratched his chin.

"Classes can be studied in part-time, but you have to do a lot of practice hours on excavations, as you know, Miss Strong. They are obligatory." He said.

"Yes, but my friend works at night. He could take part in them during the day. Right?" She asked, glancing at him out of the corner of her eye. Her uncle grunted, tense, not knowing where to look, his fingers clenched into fists.

His face then when Jace took his boxers from him, his loud sobs, his hands clenched into fists as he stood up to his waist in water.

"Yes. Yes, that would be possible." He replied lowly, trailing his fingers along the armrest.

The professor nodded.

"Well, if that's the case, then please prepare yourself for the exams. Then we'll see what comes of it." He said and rose, nodding at them.

"Is that it?" Her uncle muttered, looking at her with big eyes, as if he expected to be questioned for hours by this man.

"Yes." She replied. "Thank you, Professor."

When they went outside and said goodbye to Mr Addams they stood in awkward silence, not knowing what to do with themselves.

"If you'd like, I'll wait and drive you home." He offered, not looking at her but somewhere to the side, pretending to read something interesting on a poster hanging on the wall.

"No need. Mum will pick me up." She replied.

He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and grinned under his breath.

"They pick you up and drop you off like a little girl?" He sneered, making her feel an unpleasant sting in her heart.

"Ever since someone put a rape pill into my drink, yes."

His expression changed, filled with sudden shame and discomfort. He grunted and scratched his chin, embarrassed.

"Do you know who did this? I can take care of it. For your comfort." He added, as if to make amends to her for his ill-considered words.

"Larys Strong." She said, and he looked at her shocked as if he didn't believe she had said that.

"What?"

"I already told you. He was telling me about my father."

"But it wasn't him who put it into your drink, it was one of his people, right?"

"He asked me if I wanted a drink. I said no. Then he ordered water for me. I took a few sips from it and struggled to get to the bathroom."

Her uncle stared at her wide-eyed, breathing loudly through his nose, his lips pressed together in a way from which she felt fear and a cold sweat on her back.

"Son of a bitch." He hissed, running his hand over his face, turning his head away, clearly thinking of something she didn't like.

"Don't interfere. Go home." She said impatiently. He looked at her, surprised.

"And when are you going to teach me?" He muttered.

"What?"

"For the exams. I need you to help me. How do I reconcile what I have to do at night with studying if I don't know where to start?" He asked, and she sighed heavily, burying her face in her hands.

"Okay. Okay, I'll help you. I'll pass you the study books somehow." She said finally, giving in, recognising that she had no choice, that whether she wanted to or not, she had to help him get out of this life that was destroying him every day.

She didn't want him to die.

He stood over her and stared at her, his warm breath enveloping the top of her head.

"Can I touch your hand?"

She lifted her gaze to him and met his eyes, one blank, staring dully ahead, the other red with emotion, his full lips parted involuntarily in an accelerated breath.

She held out her hand towards him, and he took his from the pocket of his trousers, grasping her little fingers in his.

There was something frighteningly natural about the way they intertwined, how perfectly they fit together, how right they looked in a tender embrace.

"Walk me out."

And off they went together, walking down the University's sidewalks, holding hands as if they were a couple.

There was something childlike and naïve about it, about how tightly their fingers clasped together, how close the embrace was, how much they needed proof that nothing was over between them.

She thought it was a pathetic attempt to reclaim their lost childhood.

She let go of his hand as they stopped at his car and watched as he got in without a word, only to drive away a moment later without even bestowing a single glance on her.

She spent the rest of the day during class unable to focus on what she was hearing, pondering how she was going to fool Daemon and her mother into thinking she was spending time with someone else while she was actually helping him study.

She concluded, when she saw her stepfather's face behind the wheel and not her mother's, that it might be worth it to just stop lying.

When she got into the passenger side of the car and Daemon set off, she began to speak at once.

"I'm helping Aemond get into University."

Daemon snorted at her words, surprised, frustrated and intrigued all at the same time. She clamped her hands on the fabric of the backpack lying on her lap, dreading his answer.

"Interesting."

Is that all?

"I want to help him prepare for his exams. He has very little time."

"No."

She swallowed hard hearing him say the word coldly and confidently.

"Why?"

Daemon switched on his indicator and turned at the crossroads even though he should have been driving straight, leaving her stunned.

"What are you doing? Where are we going?" She muttered, feeling her heart start to pound like crazy with terror.

"You'll see."

They stopped in one of the busiest streets in the city: her stepfather had told her to get off, so she did, moving a moment later right behind him towards one of the pubs.

"Not open yet, mate." Said a tall, stocky man in a black suit stopping him with his hand.

"For me it is. Mate." He scoffed.

The man wanted to say something, but someone from downstairs called out to let them in.

A woman.

They went down the stairs inside: apart from them and the bartender, who was mopping the floor, a beautiful black-haired woman was sitting at one of the tables, bent over a laptop. Seeing her stepfather she stood up and approached them with a smile that was both seductive and disturbing.

Her eyes were unnaturally green.

"Well, well. Fucking Alys Rivers. The world is small." Daemon said and shook her hand in a gesture as if they had once been partners.

"What brings you here?" She asked softly, directing the gaze of her bright eyes at her, her voice melodious and deep.

The woman examined her figure from top to bottom, as if she had just been looking at something tasty.

"I came to show my step-daughter the brutality of life." He explained, glancing at her over his shoulder with some kind of pride, as if he was just about to teach his son some very manly and important things.

Alys Rivers cocked her head at his words, glancing at her with a look that frightened her.

As if she had heard of her before.

"Oh. I see. Well, I won't disturb you. It was good to see you. Give my regards to your wife." She said and returned to her seat, clicking something on her laptop again.

Daemon moved forward and sat a table at the other end of the room. She sat next to him, tense, and after a moment a man came out of the back room who had not noticed them, walking straight towards the black-haired woman.

It was only when she saw his face that she understood why her stepfather had taken her there.

He had three long scars on the left side of his face.

The man only noticed them when the woman pointed her finger at them. He nodded at them and Daemon reciprocated the gesture, looking at her.

"Guess who left him such a beautiful reminder."

On the way back home, she was silent, because that was also the state of her mind: it was empty. No thought, no feeling, no sound or word flowed through her: images from outside the window flashed before her eyes, as if she were watching a film.

A passive observer of someone else's life.

"Robert wasn't the only one. There are seven others. Most recently Tyland. They were in arrears, and Otto is very much on his word. I worked for him, just like your one-eyed uncle." He said, and she looked at him shocked.

"What?" She muttered.

"I slammed them with a baseball bat until they looked like a red tomato. They had all their facial bones broken. They looked like completely different people afterwards." He said, and she lowered her gaze, feeling discomfort, horror, disbelief.

She rarely thought about what they did to people who didn't pay them on time because she knew that if she started doing it, she wouldn't get a single peaceful night again.

"Your uncle is now his dog. The faithful hound he has raised for himself for eight years. Even if some part of him would like to run away, he knows he cannot bite the hand that feeds him. A dog can only have one owner, and that is his grandfather, even if you wish it were otherwise."

"Don't speak about him like that. As if he wasn't human." She exclaimed in pain, looking at him in disbelief. Daemon shook his head.

"You don't understand. He's brainwashed. He's trapped in his big cage and he thinks he's free. But as soon as he tries to take a step too far, Otto will react and you'll get the message from him that he's not going to university and he'll never see you again. If it was just about fucking, I'd be able to understand it. I also did… reckless things when I was your age, but you get involved, naively mistaking his euphoria at meeting you after eight years for affection that could change anything."

Each successive word from him was like needles that, one by one, drove into her heart, a bucket of cold water that made her begin to quiver, red with shame, sadness and regret.

Some part of her knew he was right.

She closed her eyes, seeing in her mind the face of a man with three scars.

He had done this to him.

How could the hands that touched her so tenderly, so softly, do such a thing?

A dog can only have one owner, and that is his grandfather, even if you wish it were otherwise.

She knew that the comparison her step-father used was cruel and derogatory, but she understood in a way what he was warning her about.

Her uncle was lonely and manipulated by his grandfather, full of complexes and insecurities that made him cling to what was safe and familiar, which if there was too much risk would cause him to withdraw.

She realised that he would never choose her.

What happened between them was pure coincidence, the result of their collision in a place and time beyond their control.

A desperate attempt to connect again.

She spent the rest of the day in the garden, watering the flowers and weeding around them, trying to calm and soothe herself. The sight of them, those beautiful, vibrant colours of their petals gave her pleasure, comfort in a state where she felt she would never experience any other joys in her life again.

The next day her mother and Daemon went to the notary to hear her grandfather's last will. Everyone was tense and sullen from the morning, knowing what it meant.

A war of influence was looming over what Viserys had left behind, pubs, clubs, businesses, more than half of their entire family's source of income.

Jace and Luke were restless, looking out of the windows once in a while, talking loudly about the fact that whatever their mother was getting, Otto would surely want to take from them by force, and they would never agree to that.

"Stop it." She muttered, sighing heavily. Baela, who was sitting next to her, squeezed her hand in hers, sensing her uncertainty.

"They're coming back!" Jace called out as he ran out into the driveway and they followed him, looking with big eyes at Daemon's and his security guards' cars.

Her stepfather stepped out of the car with a broad smile as if he was the winner of some world championship, however, her mother was pale and her face expressed horror.

"Everything. Viserys bequeathed everything to your mother in his will." He said spreading his hands as if he had received a blessing from God himself.

Jace and Luke ran up to him and hugged him as if it was the best day of their lives, but she and her step-sisters felt exactly the same as her mother.

Terror.

Everything.

Her uncles, her aunt, his second wife got nothing.

"How can this be?" She mumbled, shaking her head.

"He left them some big estates by the sea and in the city. I don't give a shit. Tonight we're celebrating, my dears, we're having a banquet!" Daemon exclaimed as he walked into their house, but she approached her mother, who was barely on her feet.

"Mom?" She muttered.

Rhaenyra looked at her and shook her head, following her husband into the house.

She knew what she was thinking about.

Otto will never leave it like this.

"Each of you will have a bodyguard assigned to you from today. We are reinforcing the security of our home, each of us can now be a target. You do not speak to anyone from that part of the family without consulting me or your mother." Said her stepfather, holding a glass of champagne in his hand, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye, giving her a protracted, uneasy look.

She lowered her gaze, feeling discomfort in her stomach, having the impression that she had forgotten how to breathe.

Taking advantage of the fact that Daemon was in euphoria and he, along the other men who worked with them had made a party, she went back to her room. She lay down in bed hearing their laughter and loud conversations downstairs, not understanding where their reason for joy came from.

Did they love killing each other so much?

She shuddered as her display lit up – she reached for her phone with her hand and unlocked the screen as soon as she saw that he had texted her.

She swallowed hard, looking around, wondering if she should do this.

Everyone was downstairs, the security guards were drunk.

Maybe she could sneak out?

She knew the code to the gate, maybe no one would notice her if she went out the back door.

Uncertainty, fear and trepidation squeezed her heart, but some part of her wanted to believe that he really cared, that in a situation where all seemed lost he was willing to reach for the one thing that gave him hope.

Today he lost everything, she thought.

Can I take more away from him?

So she packed her books from her first year into her backpack and left the room quietly in her sweatshirt and shorts, not even trying to go for her shoes, heading for the stairs. Apart from one drunk, sleeping security guard and two men talking in the kitchen, she didn't see anyone.

She lay down on the floor and began to crawl forward, feeling like a commando on an important mission, seeing from a distance that they didn't hear her. She rose as she entered the dark hallway and quietly opened the door.

She lifted her gaze up to the camera facing the exit and cursed under her breath, stopping halfway.

She had completely forgotten about it.

What now?

She looked around, trying to remember exactly what the image from the cameras she had seen once looked like when she and Daemon were searching for something on the recordings.

One, two, three, four she started counting and spotted an area she was sure the range of none of the cameras included. She ran in that direction, propped a bucket lying next to her feet and struggled to climb the wall, pulling herself up with a groan of effort, leaping over to the other side, almost breaking her legs.

She hissed, falling onto her hands – when she lifted them she saw that she had scraped her skin there and on her knees.

She sighed heavily, recognising that she would survive such injuries and that they would be nothing compared to what Daemon would do to her if he found out she had escaped.

She'll just give him the books and go back home.

She breathed out loud when she saw his car around the corner, its engine and lights on. He opened the door from his side, looking at her with big eyes, and she quickly pulled off her backpack, giving it to him.

"Take this and get out of here." She muttered, but his hand grasped her wrist.

"– come here –"

"– I have to –"

"– come –"

She stared at him, panting hard, knowing involuntarily what he wanted, feeling the squeeze between her thighs at the thought that she wanted it too.

Comfort.

"– I –"

"– it won't take long –"

He closed the door behind her as she let his arm pull her around the waist – she clumsily sat on top of him, trying to make herself comfortable on his lap in such a tight space. She lifted herself up on her knees to slide her shorts off while he looked at her with a misty gaze, unfastening the belt to his trousers.

"– good girl – such a good girl –" He breathed out, releasing his erection immediately, throbbing and dripping with desire, ready to give her what she needed.

There was no time for any other kind of caress, so she positioned herself over him, lowering herself slowly onto his thick, smooth tip, feeling how wonderfully he opened her for himself, stretching her warm, moist walls.

"– fuck – fuck, baby –" He muttered, clamping his hands over her firm buttocks, panting and moaning loudly along with her, sliding into her in one, deep thrust.

The feeling of him deep inside her was full of tension, her interior suddenly stretched to the limit on his throbbing erection, which he began to thrust slowly into her with trembling, tentative slaps full of impatience.

"– ah – G-God –" She mumbled, feeling how her slickness helped him to force his way into her body again and again, filling her so wonderfully.

Why it felt so right when it was so wrong?

Her hands embraced his neck, their foreheads touched each other as his palms on her waist forced a quick, sharp, violent pace on her from which her nipples hardened, the pleasant tickle in her lower abdomen caused by him rubbing her where she needed it made her gasp.

"– Aemond –" She mewled, trying to find a rhythm with his body, rolling her hips back and forth, filling herself again and again with his swollen, hot manhood, feeling pleasant, warm tickle in her belly.

"– do you hear it? – do you hear how well you take me? – only you – fuck –" He gasped, pounding into her with loud, wet slaps of their hips, listening how her twitching cunt clicked with his every push. His hand sank into her hair as his moist lips brushed hers, inviting her into the warm, sticky kiss full of their saliva.

Their tongues licked and teased each other, intensifying their sensation, building a swift path to their fulfilment, their bodies slammed against each other greedily with their embarrassingly loud moans of pleasure.

It seemed to her that they were too ashamed and shocked by the situation, by what they were doing, and how pleasurable it was, how liberating it was, to fuck in his car against everyone and everything, the sticky juices of their forbidden fruit running down their thighs each time his cock sank into her weeping pussy again.

She was terrified that, despite the speed and brutality of his thrusts, his hands caressed her body so tenderly, stroking her hair, her neck, her back, her buttocks, her cheeks, allowing his lips and tongue to join hers in loud, chaotic, wet kisses full of their moans.

She couldn't stop the tension that was growing in her lower abdomen, the pleasant tickling in her fingertips and the clenching deep between her thighs that proved she was about to come.

"– where? –" He mumbled into her mouth, her hands stroking his sweaty, soft cheeks, letting the messy, greedy thrusts of his hips give her the pleasure she so needed, her lips parted wide as the aggressive, stupefying fulfilment full of relief shook her body.

"– here – right here, uncle –" She gasped, feeling only pleasure, only relief, only bliss.

He groaned loudly, helpless, and came hard inside her, throwing his head back, panting heavily along with her. He hugged her face to his sweaty neck, exactly as he had then, that night in the hotel room, his half-hard, pulsing manhood filling her with the remnants of his seed.

"– I think I'm in love with you –" He whispered in a trembling voice, making the sound stuck in her throat with emotion.

She parted her lips, not knowing what to answer him, thinking with embarrassment that she somehow reciprocated his feelings.

His hand slid off her head while the other continued to stroke her bare buttock, his soft erection still throbbing deep inside her as his lips placed a warm, soft kiss on her forehead.

"– forgive me –"

She only drew in the air loudly, shocked, and clenched her hands on his black T-shirt when she felt the needle jab into her neck. Her squeal of horror, grief, and disbelief sounded unnatural, as if she were a small animal being butchered.

Her body became numb, the image around her became blurred and unclear, a heavy, dark sleep descended on her mind as she simply relaxed in his arms, feeling his hand stroke her head again, his cheek nestled against her forehead all wet.

He cried.

[authorhjk1]

Dea Romana

(Minatozaki Sana X Male Reader)

(Author's note:

Hi everyone! Thank you for patiently waiting for me! I'm done with writing my exams now, so I will be able to write more again until Juli. Since I like history a lot, the beginning got a bit longer than originally planned, but I hope you will be able to enjoy it nonetheless. I tried to make everything as historically accurate as possible, but please don't expect everything to be true.

Stay healthy! I will do my best to upload the next piece as soon as possible!)

Every muscle feels like it's burning. Your legs and arms feel heavy. Your feet barely lift off the uneven ground with every step you take.

Dried blood stains your face. Your armour doesn't look much better. The shield you are holding, has a big dent in it. The javelin in your right hand feels like it's made out of steel. The chainmail on your chest weighs heavier than usual.

"Marius!"

Your second in command shouts at you from the back.

"The women need a break!"

You sigh in annoyance. It's bad enough that you almost got your whole century killed. Now you have to delay your reunion with the rest of the legion because of those Gaul captives.

"We will take a short break."

You announce to your eighty legionaries and the twenty rebels you captured.

Spotting a small stream near by, you walk closer, while most of the soldiers sit on the ground, some are standing guard.

Taking off your helmet, you start to wash your face. The dried blood sticks to your skin. After some effort, you are just a little bit cleaner.

Another sigh leaves your lips as you kneel in place. In front of the small stream, your century in the back, looking into the deep forest.

You have lived a hard life. You were not born a Roman. Not born a free man. But you took your life into your own hands, instead of hoping for the mercy of the gods. Because gods don't have mercy. Only you can change your own destiny.

"Let's keep marching. We are almost there."

You go back to the front of the century, your men following your orders. Most of the Gaul rebels you captured are women and children. Their husbands and fathers killed by your swords and javelins.

Orders are orders. To kill or to be killed. These are the only two principles you live by. At least most of the time.

"Have you heard yet?"

Quintus asks from behind you, catching your attention. You silently wave for him to walk next to you. It's not necessarily the gossip you're interested in, but you did learn that it's important to know what is going on inside your century and the legion itself.

"Aelius fucked up some of his soldiers."

You raise your eyebrow while you keep walking. Nothing new there. Aelius is a spoiled son of a whore. He only became centurion in the tenth, because of his family's status. And he is usually unnecessarily brutal with his century.

"Reason?"

"They ate some of the extra rations we all got a week ago. Aelius said that they are meant for centurions only. Not for legionaries."

You have to stop yourself from spitting onto the muddy path you are walking on.

Aelius paints the perfect picture of the Roman nobility. Rich assholes. Nothing more. Nothing less.

"Did he kill someone again?"

Quintus shakes his head.

"But I heard that the premus pilus had a talk with him."

You let out a dry chuckle.

"All the centurions of the first cohort are the same. Do you really think he got in trouble?"

"No. But I thought you would be interested. It's not like you have very good connections with-"

"Shut it, fool."

It's not really a secret in the tenth legion that you and Aelius are bitter rivals. The two of you are the completely opposite of one another. A rich brat, who is the centurion of the third century in the first cohort. And you. The former slave, who climbed the ranks to be the centurion of the first century in the second cohort.

There aren't many ranks that separate the two of you. But making the jump into the first cohort as a former slave is nearly impossible.

Your century walks in almost complete silence for the next couple of hours. Despite being one of the most feared soldiers in the legion, you can't help but be cautious. In case there are more rebels lurking in the shadows of the large trees.

"Marius!"

The scout you send out to check the path ahead is jogging in your direction.

"We take another short break."

A light murmur of gratitude echoes through the ranks.

You wait for the young man, barely older than a boy, to reach the spot where you are standing.

"Someone seems to be traveling towards the camp. Our paths are going to cross, once we reach the small clearing ahead."

"Do you know who it is?"

"It looked like a person from the nobility. There was a carriage. And a couple of men with spears. Probably guards."

"We can't be too cautious. Titus!"

You shout for your second in command to walk to the front.

"Take your contubernia and make fast pace. I want to make sure that everything is going according to regulations."

"Yes, Marius."

The rest of the century starts marching at normal pace again, while the eight men rush ahead. The scout leading them towards the small crossroads.

"You know what's going on?"

You shake your head at Quintus' question.

"Might be a politician from Rome. Or a nobleman's wife."

"You know that that's against the law."

Of course everyone knows. It's illegal for a legionary to be married. And yet, some centurions always think that they are above the rest of the legion, when it comes to this kind of rules.

"What is the meaning of this?!"

An angry shout echoes around the forest, just as you and your men reach the small clearing.

The scout was right. A carriage, pulled by two grays, accompanied by a handful of men, armed with spears, and some servants.

An older woman is standing in front of the carriage's door, screaming at the poor Titus. Glancing over his shoulder, your optio rolls his eyes.

"Woman. Don't scream at a Roman legionary."

You make your presence known as you keep walking towards the middle of the clearing.

The servant, probably around forty to fifty years of age, looks at you with anger in her eyes.

"Do you even know, whom you are holding up?!"

"No."

You state bluntly, finally standing in front of her. Behind you, you can hear your men take their positions. Not to threaten the travelers, but to guard the area.

"Well, she is one of the most prestigious women in all of Rome."

"And what is a woman like her doing so far away from the city?"

"Visiting her husband."

You click your tongue. As far as you know, none of the centurions in the first cohort have wives. Which means, she must be the woman of a centurion, who ranks lower than you.

A smirk, which you can't suppress, plays around your lips. How are you able to enjoy a higher position than a noble in this republic?

You walk off without another word, leaving Titus in charge. There is no need to bother with this stuff. Some of the Gaul rebels fell a little behind earlier. You have to check on them. In case they are sick or badly injured.

"Her name?"

You hear Titus ask, before the woman let's out an exaggerated gasp.

"Sana Lucii."

You groan in annoyance. By Jupiter. Is this really his wife? Lucius Aelius? Just when you thought, you couldn't hate that man even more.

You despise men, who don't follow the law and rules of the republic and the legion. Of course, sometimes you can define them a little different for your own gains, but this is just breaking them.

Trying to stay calm, your fingers tap the pommel of your gladius. You don't hear a response from Titus. He must know which Lucius the old woman ment.

"Marius?"

He finally makes you turn around.

You walk back up towards the carriage, just as the door opens.

"By Bellona! What is taking so long!"

You have to say, you are amused by the woman's expression. You didn't expect her to call out for the goddess of war.

"Just doing our duty, lady."

Titus answers politely, although you know how hard it is for him to not lash out. He hates Aelius just as much as the next soldier. Especially, since he is your optio.

You are stunned, once the woman actually shows herself. Her beautiful face is slightly twisted with annoyance. Although, you would be sure that she could look like Venus herself, when she smiles.

She is wearing a turquoise stola, which also covers her brown hair. The thin material enables you to have a look at her white tunic underneath. Her skin looks flawless and pure. A golden necklace adorns her neck and collarbone. It's probably worth more than a whole year of your salary.

An image of a goddess.

"I hope we can speed up this process. I'm supposed to be by my husband's side."

Lucky bastard.

"Please. Speak respectfully with my legionaries."

Her gaze meets yours. You can feel your heart skipping a beat. Not one woman has looked as pretty as she does. Not one.

"Who are you to lecture me on speaking?"

"Salve."

Your fist meats the blood stained chainmail on your chest.

Maybe, if you behave respectfully, so does she. The army is for her protection after all.

"My name is Marius. And-"

"What's your first name, centurion?"

A cute smile suddenly plays around her lips. Maybe this will get her out of here faster.

"Gaius."

"I see, Gaius. I'm sure you have more important things to do than stop me from traveling further? My husband must be waiting for me."

If she didn't know better, Sana could swear that she caught a glint of hate in your eyes.

"This is protocol. We have to check on everyone, who approaches the camp."

"I'm a noble woman. Can't you make an exception for me?'

You don't fall for her sweet smile. You are on duty. Not even Venus herself could distract you. Well, maybe a little bit.

"Your choice. Here, or at the gate in front of even more legionaries. Like everyone else."

That last part makes her glare at you. You won this round.

Not waiting for a response, you gesture for your men to search the woman's belongings. Your Imperial legate has more than enough enemies in Rome to be cautious of. And you don't want him to end up dead inside his own camp. Even if she is allegedly Aelius' wife.

Quintus nods in your direction after going through her belongings, signaling that everything is alright.

"We will accompany you on your way to the camp. We are on our way back, anyway."

You turn around without looking at Sana again. A signal for your men to get into formation.

It feels like she stares at your back for a second longer, before you hear the door close behind you. You don't like the Roman nobility. At all. There is only one man you are willing to follow.

After two more hours of marching, your century and the noblewoman's entourage finally reach the camp's gate.

"The village, where the senior officers are staying, is right behind the camp. You can't miss it."

The older woman, who screamed at Titus earlier, still looks at you as if she is holding a grudge.

"I hope you enjoy your stay in these wonderful lands, lady."

You raise your voice a little, making sure that Sana can hear you. It drips with sarcasm and you can hear Quintus chuckle behind you.

"Vale."

With a dismissive wave of your hand, you walk past the old servant. Her shock at your rudeness visible on her face.

Already making your way past the guards, you can't hear Sana's scoff.

Who are you to talk to her like that? If she is gonna tell her husband about this, you are going to be in trouble for sure.

Sana will never be able to get used to this. She was able to decide that, immediately after she stepped out of her carriage. It took her only a couple of steps to enter the small house her husband is living in right now. But that was enough for her already.

Nothing here looks like Rome. Even the legionaries look out of place. And their shouts and the sounds of shields and stuff isn't what she hears when she is home. Sana is already missing the comfortable house with the atrium. She likes to bathe in the sun throughout the day, while sipping on a really good wine.

"You're late."

Lucius doesn't even look up from his small table as he hears his wife coming in.

"That's how you great me after a year?"

"You know how I value punctuality."

"Out of my hands. Some centurion insisted on searching my luggage. He was really rude."

Now Lucius is looking at her. Sana knows that he can't stand someone disrespecting him. And when she gets disrespected, it goes deeper. He is affected as well.

"Who?"

She can see his eyes becoming a little darker. He bites his lip, maybe trying to prevent himself from shouting.

"His name is Garius Marius. I think?"

"That son of a whore. How does a slave dare to stop you?"

Now, Sana feels shame run down her spine. If she knew that he was born a slave, she would've hit him for talking to her like that. No matter his rank, he is and will always be beneath her. Once a slave, always a slave.

"I swear to Jupiter. One day in battle, I will..."

Lucius takes a deep breath, before focusing back on his wife.

"We are eating dinner with the Imperial legate, the leader of these legions tomorrow, and the senior generals. I expect you to impress them."

"I'd be happy to, love."

Sana almost spits out that last word, but Lucius doesn't seem to notice. He sits back down, opening an envelope. She can see how his eyebrows are still furrowed. He won't let this incident pass without consequences.

Sana eventually leaves the house to explore the small town and it's market. Despite being married to Lucius, she can't stay around him for too long. She is only his wife, because of his money and connections. As soon as she can find someone better...

Sana feels a little dizzy as she steps out of the big house. Lucius told her to be on her best behavior. But that idiot was behaving the worst throughout the dinner.

She hated how calm and reserved the other centurion was, the man who stopped her. He was the lowest ranking soldier and yet, everyone listened to his advice and thoughts about future and past battles. And how is he on a first name basis with the imperial legate? And why is Lucius too incapable to enjoy the same treatment? How can he do worse than a slave?

Sana holds onto the wall, standing right next to the entrance. Suddenly, two men walk out the door. They don't see her because it's dark. She tries to find out who they are. The first one is a little taller, while the second has broader shoulders and looks more muscular.

"We can't do this forever, Gaius. We need a plan to wipe him out. I expect you to help me with that."

"Of course, Gaius."

Sana almost groans in annoyance. Of course it's that Gaius Marius. And the other one is the Imperial legate. Gaius Julius Caesar.

"Rome is an empire. We will defeat Vercingetorix sooner rather than later. His supporters will crumble soon."

"You did a good job today, centurion. You've proven once again, why you rightfully carry the name I gave you. Gaius Marius Antonius."

Sana assumes they are talking about some barbarian leader. But Caesar gave him that cognomen? She can't help but wonder what he must've done to be called "priceless".

"You know the political situation in Rome. The more time I waste conquering Gaul, the more powerful my enemies become."

"I swear to Mars. I will cut down anyone who tries to oppose you, Gaius."

She sees Caesar put a hand on the centurion's shoulder.

"It's only a matter of time, until you will be one of the Tribuni angusticlavii, leading the tenth legion into battle. And I will make sure, you will eventually become a rich senator."

Sana has heard enough. It's so disgusting to her. A slave becoming a senator. She is working so hard to become the most powerful woman in Rome. And with that in the whole empire. How can that lowlife become something better than she herself? Sana either needs to push Lucius further up the ranks, or she needs to find someone, who can match Marius' new found status.

Sana groans in relief, when she can finally leave the small village. It's not like someone forbid her to leave, but there just wasn't something to do in and outside the village. What was she gonna do in a forest? A very dangerous one at that?

But now, she heard of a big market place around two hours away. Sana is still looking to buy some oils and pottery. She could do that in Rome of course, but she is hoping to find them cheaper in their land of origin.

Looking out of her carriage, Sana leaves behind the village and the big camp right next to it. The constant noise made her head spin. Not that Rome isn't loud, but this is something else.

After about an hour, Sana hears a troop of men marching in front of her. She became familiar with that sound after a few days. She doesn't look outside, despite being curious. Why would a century be here? The battles would take place in the opposite direction. Right?

Sana hears how the carriage passes the back of the century. The heavy steps of the legionaries kick up some dust. Her old servant looks outside, curious herself.

"It's him again."

The older woman grimaces, before letting the curtain drop back into place.

"Who?"

"The man who stopped us a couple of days ago."

Sana's attention is now on the men outside. She remembers the conversation you had with Caesar.

"Really?"

She pretends to be cold, not wanting to get caught. After having seen you around a couple of times, the young noble woman is unsure on how to feel about you.

Yes, you are a former slave. A peasant. But you are also a great centurion. A trusted man to Julius Caesar.

Despite being not the highest ranking officer, Sana did notice how the other men look at you. She catches an occasional whisper of your brave actions in battle. She sees the men greet you with almost too much respect. Even the other centurions seem to want to be on your good side.

Maybe that's what Sana has to do too. In order to further climb up the ladder. It is risky. And it's still a long time in the future. But if Caesar can really make his ambitions reality, you will be one of the first people who benefit from it. And if Sana plays her cards well, she can benefit too.

For a moment, she wonders what a man like you would need. Something she could have to bargain with. Money? You probably earn quite a lot already. Especially compared to your earlier environment. Land? You will get that too, if you stay long enough in the army. A wife? You are a soldier. You are not allowed to be married.

As Sana is still pondering on what to do to convince you to help her gain more power, she gets closer towards the front of the century.

And it's not like she doesn't have influence. She could maybe even get you a promotion into the first cohort. Of course without her husband finding out.

Sana draws back the curtain a little with only one finger. Just a few meters ahead, she can see you walking.

Your helmet is decorated by a big crest of red horse hair. The back of the helmet and the rest of your armor shimmer in the light of the sun. She remembers your first encounter. Your armor was full with blood, indicating that you were more than able to fight a battle.

You turn around as you hear horses behind you. It wouldn't have been a surprise. One of the auxilia officers could be taking his men out to train.

Surprised at the sight of the carriage, you catch a glimpse of the passenger. Her eyes meet yours, a big golden ring decorates the finger that holds back the curtain. You could swear you see a small hint of a smile play around her lips.

"Salve."

You great her by hitting your armored chest with your fist. Not because you like her, but out of politeness.

"Salve, centurion."

Her passive aggressive mentioning of your rank indicates that she is still not over that incident a couple of days ago.

"Are you visiting the market?"

"I am. I suppose you are not here to buy pottery?"

A mocking smile replaces the earlier one.

"It may sound unbelievable, but I'm not."

A cute chuckle escapes her mouth.

"Well, I hope you enjoy this beautiful day."

Is she still mocking you, because you are on duty? You are not sure, but you can see her lazily wave goodbye as the carriage drives past you.

"Don't get too close to her. She is only gonna be trouble."

You look at Quintus.

"I'm merely being polite. I don't need trouble with angry nobles. At least not now."

"By Jupiter. One might think you've become a responsible, grown man now."

"Fuck off."

You raise your hand, but Quintus ducks away, avoiding a potential slap.

Only listening with one ear to the conversation next to you, you scan the market for the young noble woman. Despite her attitude and the fact that she is married, you can't help but glance at her occasionally. Plus, the market isn't as safe as it might seem. Cunning merchants, thiefs and rebels might roam the place, ready to strike at any moment. And being a beautiful Roman woman makes her one of the most desirable targets right now.

"Listen, Roman! I barely sell anything! How do you expect me to pay your unreasonable taxes?!"

"Shut it."

You turn back to the stall holder. Titus' and his conversation got heated.

"We are not hear to argue. We are here to collect taxes."

The man grits his teeth.

"I'm telling you! I don't have anything to give away!"

The other people around you look at the scene, before walking past. Only you and a couple of legionaries are here. The rest of your century is patrolling another village nearby and the rest of the market, making sure you are not getting ambushed.

"Don't scream at me, old man. Pay up."

"I don't have a fucking coin!"

You know he is lying. You saw someone buy his fabric from a far as you entered the marketplace. And, judging by the money bag he held earlier, it wasn't cheap at all.

"We can do this the easy way, or the heard way."

You take a step forward, towering above him.

"But the hard way won't end well for you."

"I already told you, I-"

You let your head fall back in annoyance. Collecting taxes is a necessity. Not something to be proud of. It's not as honorable as fighting in battle.

"Do you really want to go this far?"

You look down at him again, your hand now resting on the pommel of your gladius.

He caught the movement of your hand, worry creeping onto his features.

"What is it gonna be? Your life? Or coin?"

The old man is not stupid. And a couple of moments later, you walk away from his stall. The tinkle behind you indicates, that Titus is adding the silver denarii into the bag with the rest of the already collected money.

"Are you trying to rob me, old man? You are a con artist!"

Women screaming at a merchant are as common as clouds under the sky, so you don't pay much attention to it as you hear someone scream.

"How can you demand so much for this lousy work?"

You keep walking, although you kinda feel, like you heard this voice before. It sounds oddly familiar.

"By Bellona! I'm going to have you beaten for your rudeness!"

And there it is. With an annoyed groan, you immediately recognize, who is disturbing the rather peaceful market.

If she was a common local woman, you would've kept walking. The Galli could solve their own disputes.

But Sana is, as unfortunate as it is, not a local. She is a Roman woman. A member of the elite even.

You take a deep breath, before walking towards her screams. You can already guess whom she is screaming at.

"Keep going."

You tell Titus over your shoulder, as you approach her from behind. Her servant must have stayed with the carriage, because Sana is standing in front of the stall of the potter all alone.

Before the young woman can scream another word, you grab her arm.

"What-"

You spin her around and walk away, pulling her with you.

"What do you think you are doing?!"

"Silence."

You didn't say it in a loud voice, but your tone makes her go silent.

After a couple of meters, you stop, turning around to look at her.

"You're welcome."

"Excuse you?"

Her hands now rest on her hips. You can't help but catch how slender her waist seems to be.

"I just saved you from embarrassing yourself even further. You owe me."

You turn away, ready to reunite with Titus and your men.

"What the-"

It's now Sana's turn to grab your arm, stopping you from leaving.

"I don't owe you shit."

"Really?"

You turn to look at her again.

"Your temper is as bad as your observation skills. Minerva would strike you down for your utter incompetence."

You said the words, before you thought about them. You are aggravated. Because of the merchant earlier, because of her causing a scene, because of Lucius (as always) and because of her being his wife. Alright, maybe that last one was a little jealousy.

"How dare you? You are some rude-"

You stop her from saying another word by grabbing her shoulders and spinning her around.

"Look. Look and tell me what you see."

"What are you talking about?"

You see her frowning. An act that makes her beautiful face a little less flawless.

"Tell me what's going on."

You realize you are using the same tone as with the men during training. Harsh, straight forward, a little condescending. But not rude. Just factual.

"The merchant is still selling his stupidly expensive pottery."

You don't answer, waiting for more.

Sana, visibly annoyed, struggles against your grip for a moment, before giving in. You are a seasoned legionnaire. There is no way she is gonna get out of your hold on her.

"There are a couple of women and men who browse his items."

"Keep going."

"Someone is buying a bowl and an amphora."

"What is the woman on the right doing?"

"She is paying for her stuff. What-"

"Can you see how much she is paying?"

"Way too much for a stupid-"

"Do you see any of the locals complaining?"

Sana hesitantly shakes her head.

"Do you know the reason?"

"Because they are stupid. In Rome it's cheap-"

"We aren't in Rome, woman. This is Gaul."

You stand behind her, both of you silent for a couple of moments. You give her time to think about the possible reason. Although she is probably just complaining about you to the gods in silence.

"They all pay the price he demands, because he and his work are respected here."

"But they look-"

"Yeah. Some of his pieces aren't pretty."

You admit that.

"But he is an old man. His hands aren't as good as they used to be. He is obviously regarded with a decent amount of respect."

You gesture for Sana to look around the market.

"Most of the people here bargain over every single item. Food, cloth, tools and even pottery."

You turn her back towards the old man's stall.

"But not there. They respect him too much to try to get a better price. His work might not be the very best anymore, but his skill is known by everyone here."

Sana groans in annoyance and anger as she sees you coming out of the biggest tent of the camp. A week has gone by, since you treated her like a child at the market. Her blood still boils, whenever she sees you from a far.

She decided against telling her husband, not wanting to cause unnecessary friction. And if you have the favor of Caesar, it might be a bad idea to egg on her husband.

And Sana is still debating on your ability to help her seize more power. She is ready to do anything to get to the top. Even if it means working together with someone as low born as you.

Sana stops in her tracks as she sees her husband walk towards you.

"Aelius."

You don't greet him like any other lower ranking centurion would. The young woman can feel the tension between the two men, despite standing barely in earshot.

"Marius."

His face shows a disapproving twitch.

"It seems like we are catching up to Vercingetorix. I hope you don't make any mistakes in battle. I would hate to lose a lower ranking officer."

You click your tongue, taking a step forward.

With the two of you standing right in front of each other, Sana realizes that you are bigger than her husband. Not just in statue, but also in the way you carry yourself. With slightly less arrogance and more discipline.

"Don't worry about me, Aelius. As you know, I always make sure my men are taken care off."

Sana feels a shiver run down her spine. She heard more than enough stories about the battles of the tenth legion since she joined her husband. The amount of times that you were mentioned in one of them was noticeably high.

The young woman heard of a battle two summers ago. You weren't a centurion at the time. Merely a soldier of the second cohort. But in battle, your centurion chose to let his men die, while he stayed behind, watching his century getting slaughtered. After half of the eighty men were dead, you walked straight towards the cowardly centurion. A nobleman, which the storyteller didn't fail to mention with a hint of disgust. Your gladius seperated his head from his shoulders in one swift motion and you took command of the second century until the end of the battle. Caesar honored your bravery and agreed with your actions. Instead of getting executed, you got promoted.

"Are you implying I'm not leading my men well?"

Sana hears you chuckle.

"News travel fast among the younger men, Aelius."

"Maybe you should discipline your soldiers like I do. Your century is a disgrace to the tenth legion."

"Nugas garris. You are pathetic."

You walk off, leaving him behind.

Sana almost expects her husband to draw his gladius. How can you call him a disgrace? And idiot? He is higher ranking than you and he is a member of the elite.

But Aelius just watches you leave, before entering the tent you just came out of.

That short interaction reminds Sana of the power you actually hold. You might not be the highest officer, but almost the whole legion treats you as such. If it wasn't for your low birth, you might have been able to be the centurion of the first century of the first cohort.

Sana's decision is slowly forming in her mind. A plan to gain more power than she has right now. Siding with you might be risky. But the rewards could be great.

Sana glances at you from across the room as you stare at Caesar, who is currently talking. She is still not quite sure what she can offer you to make you join her side. But when the leader of the legion mentions the nobility in his speech, she sees your expression change for just a second. It is obvious that you hate all the wealthy and arrogant men and women. Maybe Sana can offer you something to get back at them. Or at least get back at Aelius.

"And that's why the tenth legion outshines any other. Your bravery and honor are praised throughout the whole empire. Rome is grateful for what you have done. And the gods smile down at the men, who give their lifes to the republic."

Caesar ends his speech. And with that, the long meal is finally over. It is night time already. Only the moon and the stars still shine.

You walk out of the large tent, ready to sleep. It has been a long day and there is no doubt that you will be fighting soon. Caesar's promise to promote you to such a high position still rings in your ears. You can't believe you've come this far.

"Gaius."

Her sweet voice makes you stop in front of your tent. She doesn't sound as angry as she usually does.

"Yes?"

You turn around, standing face to face with Sana.

"I'm here to ask you for something."

You look at her, waiting for an explanation.

"I heard that you are the bravest and most powerful man in this legion. At least unofficially."

You raise an eyebrow.

"Where is all of this honey suddenly coming from?"

Sana gives you a melodic chuckle. Only now do you realize how close she is standing. Her oils make you breath in the flowery air that surrounds her.

"I want to strike a deal with you."

"What would you want from such a low ranking officer like me?"

Your sarcasm makes it hard for Sana to not lash out. Just because she needs you, doesn't mean that she likes you.

"As far as I've heard, you won't be a low ranking officer for long."

"Is that so?"

You cross your arms in front of your chest.

"Well, it's actually quite simple. You have something I want. And I have something you want."

"I highly doubt that."

You watch Sana turn her head left and right, making sure that no one is around.

"There is a always something a man wants from a woman."

You are surprised at what she is suggesting.

"Judging by the look on your face, I can comfortably say that I'm right."

You shake your head, which seems harder than usual.

"Have you never thought about having your way with me? A noble woman?"

She takes another step closer. Now, Sana's sandals are touching yours.

"A married one at that? I bet you would love to destroy my husband. This could be your first step to success."

You narrow your eyes, still unsure of what to do. You've never been in this kind of situation. Is she making fun of you? Did Aelius put her up to this, setting a trap for you? Or is she genuine?

"What would you get in return?"

"Your power. Your influence. I can't live, knowing that another person might have more power than I do. I need to be at the top of the republic."

"And you think, I can get you there?"

Sana nods.

"With my support? Definitely."

She looks at you, waiting for a response.

You are still torn. She has a nice body, yes. But you're not fond of her attitude. She is a noble woman. And she is married. Getting caught would have serious consequences. For the both of you.

But the chance to use her? A noble woman? Fucking her, while her husband is only sleeping a couple of tents away? More than just tempting.

You look around the camp yourself. No one in sight.

"Get in."

A victorious smile forms on her lips. As she walks past you, she lets her finger glide over your armoured chest.

You follow her immediately after.

"Now that we have come to an agreement, I-"

You push Sana forward, bending her over the wooden table.

"What-"

You don't give her time to speak. If you're going to do this, you're going to do this quickly.

Hiking up her red stola, you reach underneath her tunic. The smoothness of her legs makes you hard as you reach between them.

"It seems like you are enjoying this more than I expected."

Your fingers graze her lower lips. She is not just a little wet.

"Hey, I didn't give you permission to-"

You shut Sana up by covering her mouth with your other hand.

"I don't need you permission. I'm going to ruin you anyway."

Her gasp is muffled by your hand as you push your first finger inside.

You haven't slept with a lot of women, the army being mainly responsible for that. Nonetheless, you do know how to pleasure a woman.

Sana's moan escapes between your fingers as your digits slide along her wet walls. Her pussy is already gripping them tightly.

If it weren't for your hand, her head would've sunk onto the table already. But you are holding her in place, which ultimately makes her arch her back.

She tries to say something, but your grip on her mouth makes it impossible for her to speak properly.

You are surprised at how wet Sana is.

"Was your desire for power just an excuse? Do you just want me to fuck you?"

She tries to shake her head. You don't let her.

"Do you get off, knowing that a lower born man is fucking you?"

Sana is unable to respond, when you let go off her face. Her whole upper body is now lying on top of the table. You drop your belt and hike her clothes up a little further.

"Don't get confused. I still don't like you."

Sana's growl doesn't sound very convincing with your fingers inside of her.

"Might be true. But you aren't married to Aelius because of his personality anyways."

Pulling your fingers out of her core makes Sana moan loudly. She blushes in shame. Doubt starting to rise inside of her. Is she really only doing this to team up with you?

"You only seem to care for power."

"So? Only a coward wouldn't want power."

You shut her up by letting your tip graze against her lips. Sana hisses through her teeth, unwilling to moan again.

"I'm just curious about how far you would be willing to go. How dedicated you are to this cause."

"Don't worry. I'm ready to do anything."

"Anything?"

You raise an eyebrow, which Sana can't see.

"Anything."

"That's reassuring."

Your nonchalant tone makes Sana shiver.

Finally, you push inside of her.

"Fuck, woman."

You can't help but marvel at how tight she actually is.

"Fuck me already."

It's a mixture of plea and demand.

With one hand you grab her hair, pushing her cheek against the wooden surface. Your other hand holds her waist.

Another moan escapes Sana's lips as you thrust forward. Before she can react, you pull back and push inside of her again.

After just a couple of seconds, you start to fuck her hard. The table rocks back and forth with every thrust. Her moans escape her lips, whenever you bottom out inside of her.

"Harder!"

Sana holds onto the edge of the table, her knuckles slowly starting to turn white.

Because you keep pushing her upwards with your thrusts, the young woman's feet eventually dangle in the air.

You are now able to fuck her even deeper. Her moans become louder when she feels your cock invading her pussy even further.

At this point, Sana is merely a hole for you to fuck. She doesn't move. Only your thrusts rock her body back and forth. The thin material of her clothes makes Sana's nipples rub against the wooden surface. They've become hard due to her arousal and are now adding to the pleasure she is already feeling.

"So good!"

She moans yet again. You suddenly realize, that this isn't really a save place to be this loud.

"Shut up."

You growl into her ear, trying to quiet her.

But Sana can't help it. She has already lost control over her body. Your cock is parting her walls again and again, making her clench around it tightly.

She is even unable to produce a disappointed whine, when you stop fucking her. You leaver her snug pussy, before getting her off your table.

Turning her around, you push Sana against the wooden post, which is holding up the roof of your tent. Reaching for your belt, you hold her arms up, before tying them together.

Sana is now unable to leave. You pick up her light frame, making her impale herself on your cock.

"By Bellona! Fuck!"

"I told you to stay quiet."

Your faces are barely an inch apart.

Because you push her body against the post, you are able to lift her up with only your left hand. Your right one moves upwards to wrap its fingers around her throat.

"One more word..."

You let the threat of unknown punishment linger in the air for a moment.

But you can't hold yourself back for long. Sana's pussy drips her juices onto your cock, coaxing you into resuming your pounding.

A whimper escapes her mouth, when you start to fuck her again. You can tell she is at least trying to stay quiet this time. While you make her bounce on your cock, you thrust upwards. It makes her eyes roll back, whenever she feels your cock pushing against her guts.

"Venus!"

A louder sigh escapes her mouth yet again. You close your fingers around her throat a little further.

"Behave."

The conflict in Sana's eyes amuses you.

She should be the one in charge. She is the noble one of the two of you after all. But here she is, bound to your post, your hand around her throat as you fuck her as hard as you can.

Sana tries to fight the belt, wanting to tell you that you have to choke her harder. She can't keep quiet when you fuck her like this.

Another moan escapes her lips and you tighten your grip yet again.

"I warned you."

You hiss into her face.

Sana's wide eyes look beautiful. The way she stares at you, begging you to fuck her harder, while she tries her best not to make any noise.

But she fails miserably. A loud sigh echoes through the tent.

Without a word, you reach upwards. The sound of metal on metal cuts through the night as you pull your pugio out of its sheath. You let Sana get a good look at it. Then, you slowly part her lips with its blade.

"If you don't want to hurt your pretty face..."

You don't continue your sentence once more. But Sana is well aware of the risks.

With your dagger in her mouth, Sana has to pull back her lips, while simultaneously biting onto the blade, to make sure it doesn't fall or hurt her.

You see her closing her eyes as you keep fucking her. She is now really quiet, focused on keeping your pugio in place.

"Finally. Your voice so annoying."

Sana blushes in shame, able to see your honesty in your eyes.

"At least you have a nice body. I could fuck you every day."

The young woman almost lets out another moan. She really has to hold herself back. This was the first time someone reduced her to nothing but a wet hole to fuck. She didn't expect it to feel this good.

You suddenly hear footsteps outside. You stop moving, almost making Sana whine in disappointment, but then she hears it too. The two of you hold your breath. Neither of you wanting to get caught.

As the footsteps disappear into the night, you resume your fucking.

You make Sana bounce up and down on your cock. She glides along its full length. Whenever you impale her on it, Sana's eyes shoot wide open. She would scream if it wasn't for the dagger between her teeth.

"I'm gonna cum."

You hiss into her face, unable to hold back longer. Her tight pussy has been working on draining your cock this whole time. It feels perfect, almost too good to pull out. But cuming inside is obviously not an option.

You put Sana back onto her own two feet, taking the knife out of her mouth. Undoing your belt, you free her arms. Sana drops to her knees, opening her mouth. You catch a couple drops of blood on the corners of her mouth, before she wraps her lips around your cock.

Your pugio falls out of your hand and you take a fistful of her beautiful hair. Her eyes look up at you, telling you to finish inside her mouth. Her tongue glides over every inch of your cock it can find, while her lips are tightly sealed around it.

"Sana."

You manage to groan her name, before you unload inside her mouth. You feel dizzy, having to close your eyes for a moment.

When you open them again, you see Sana gulping down your cum.

"How often do we need to do this, so that we have a deal?"

"I think you know the answer."

It's so dark that Sana's face is barely lit by the torch outside. You could swear a small smile plays around her lips though.

[foulphantomllama]

My Secret Desire | AESPA Winter x Male Reader

I decided to post the new chapter today because I was supposed to post something else today. But as you can guess, I did not liked it enough to post it. So enjoy the new chapter!

4. The Package

She send me a pair of her underwear. With a little note on them saying “Make good use of them until i come back and get them.” And she drew a little emoji winking at the end.

But she wasn’t coming over. Neither to school nor my house. She was barely texting me. And when she does, she only makes me horny and disappear completely. I asked about her to one of her friends but they were in it too. I all got for a response was to wait. So I waited. After nearly a week and a half later, my door was knocking. It was her. I looked at the peekhole. I opened the door. She went straight in. Saying nothing. She took off her shoes and jumped to my bed. Getting ready to take a nap. I closed the door and started watching her. After a moment of silence I wanted to check on her. She was sleeping. She literally was gone for nearly two weeks and now she is back sleeping in my room.

But no. This was my time to act. I couldn’t just let her win every time. I sit beside her and woke her up. “What?” she asked me. Her attitude was making me angry. This attitude of her was the main reason I hate her as much as I love her. “What do you mean “What?”!” “You come into my house, crying. You’re not saying a single word. We fuck, you disappear for nearly two weeks. Than you sending me your panties. And after a few days later you appear on my doorstep and pretending none of this happened?” She looked at me. Holding her laugh. “Yes.” She said. Then burst into laughing.

I hold her arms. I mean, I hold them pretty tight. Her laugh was disappearing quickly. She realized that I’m really angry now. But she was not holding back either. “Come on big boy, what do you have in mind?”

I knew her intention. She wants sex again. But no. She needs to know that she does not always get what she wants from me. We fuck when I want to fuck. She grabbed my cock. But my cock was not hard this time. Because I was furious. “Come on, stop resisting. I know you want me.” She was thigtening her grab as she talks to me. I pushed her to the bed. “Okay, now we’re talking.” She said. But the following event was not someting that she would expect. I dressed up, took the keys and locked her inside my apartment. She has no other option to wait for me. My apartment was pretty high up so she couldn’t use the balcony to run away. But also, I had zero worries that she wants to escape. I was confident that she will wait for me. No matter how long I took to come back to my apartment.

I grabbed some ramen from my favourite store. It was just around the corner of my apartment. Then I rented a film from one of the stores that is not far from my apartment. Then I go to my apartment. Opened the door. There she was. Sitting on the toilet without closing the toilets door. “You should at least close the door.” I said to her. She rolled her eyes and answered. “You should be grateful that I did not pissed on to your carpet. You dick.” She was acting just like I imagined she would. “I am hungry. You did get something to eat, right?” I showed her the ramen I bought. “You’re the best boyfriend in the world.” Then she added. “Probably.” I asked her while I put the ramens on the kitchen counter. “What do you mean boyfriend?” She got up and came towards me. “Duh, dude you fucked me and cum into my throat. And I fucking swallowed it. What do you think we are? Study buddies?”

“So, you loved me from the beggining.” I asked. “Both.” She answered. “I fucking love you so much and I hate you so fucking much.” She also said. I can take that. “I love you because you’re the most precious person ever. I hate you because you’re too precious to be real. That you will gone to your own country an forgot about me.”

Her words hurt me a lot. But not in a bad way. I was hurt because I did not see it before. She was never bullying me. She just wanted my attention. Because she was thinking that I will leave her because she was not clever enough. What a bad way to think about yourself. And this was the exact reason I hated her to my guts. She was so hard to get along with. She was meaning the world to me. Yet, whenever I tried to show her this, she accused me by being delusional. Saying she is not enough for me or so. I may be too harsh to say I hated her just for this, trust me this kind of toxicity can kill. But my love for her was always getting the spotlight. It was the same for her too.

“I am so sorry If I ever hurt you with my words. I was never a bully. I just wanted your attention. And you weren’t giving me.” She hit me with your little fist as she talks. I hugged her. “No, I won’t be going anywhere. Not now at least.” She showed me her middle finger. And then she realized the film I rented. She took the dvd and started inspecting it. “I heard that this one is so shit.” She said. “It is pure shit.” I answered. Her response was hilarious, and expected. “Then why the fuck you rented this?” It turns out that this was just the way she communicates. Not exactly helping her with the social life but, kind of makes her hot and cute. Or I was just obsessed with her.

I prepared the ramen and we started eating. “Put the film on.” She said. I put the film on. In under ten minutes our meals were finished. She paused the film and said “Okay let’s agree on something.” I said go on. “If i get bored in the next ten minutes, we fuck. If I don’t we don’t fuck.” I was confused a little. “Why do I get punished for choosing I film that you probably like?” I asked. “Haha. That is how I work, honey.”

She watched that entire film. I can realize that she wasn’t really liked it. But she did it because she wanted to annoy me. But I wanted her. So I started to kiss her neck. “No hickeys.” She said. “My mother will fucking kill me.” Of course I was going to give her a hickey. “If you’re going to give me a hickey just do it on a place my mother wouldn’t be able to see.” She said. I took of her tshirt. I left a hickey on her left shoulder. “Your mother wouldn’t see that, I think.” I said. She mimics me. Then laughs. “You ruined the ending.” She said. “Come on! It was already shit how I could possibly ruined the ending.” I answered. She nodded.

“I’m just going to give you a blowjob, and get the hell out of here. I’m already late. I was gone to buy some rice. My mother still waiting me to bring rice.” She said. “I have an unopened package of rice. You can take it on your way out.” She gave me a thumbs up. Then took off my pyjamas. She was on her knees. She licked my cock over my underwear. Then she took of my underwear. Took my cock inside her mouth. Her mouth was so warm. And I already knew that she is very skilled when it comes to sucking cock. But she was too shy to make eye contact. I did not pushed her to her limits just yet. I just let her give me head peacefully, in her own terms. “Are you going to swallow it again?” I asked. She took it off from her mouth to answer me. “Well, i want to but you bought me a gigantic ramen. I don’t want to throw up the first meal you bought me.” She started sucking it again. I asked her to look into my eyes. She started to look up. She was looking so good with my cock in her mouth. I mean, she was probably the cutest girl I’ve ever seen. And she was my girlfriend.

“I’m going to swallow it.” She said. “Do not pull it out when you’re about to cum.” I pulled my cock out. “What makes you change your mind.” I asked her. “You forgot to buy me beverage. Can I please finish it and go???” “Okay, okay sorry.” I answered. “All yours.” She got faster and faster. Then I came into her mouth. First she showed me her mouth full of my cum. Then she swallowed it and showed me her empty mouth. I pull her closer to me and kissed her lips. “You just kissed your own cum.” She laughed. “But off your mouth.” I answered. “But it makes you gay.” She answered. I looked at her face laughing. “Okay, I’m going. Give me the rice.” I give her the rice I bought the other day. “Hey, mom! I just blowed my boyfriend and he give me a packet of rice.” She was laughing out loud while saying that. “At least you keep the money.” I said.  “You’re so very right sir. Goodbye.” She saluted me and went out the door. I followed her. “No kiss goodbye?” She came closer, I was taller than her. She signalizes me to bow down. I did. She put her middle finger into my mouth. “Here’s your kiss.”

God I love her.

[poppyflower-22]

are you taking requests? saw you're multi so i thought id send anyway but its so random,

estabished lando x reader on race day and tom blyth is on the paddock for silverstone and reader gets excited bc she loved him on tbosas and lando gets jealous?

Jealous Jealous

Side note: I've never written on tumbler before. Only Wattpad, so don't judge if this is bad.

Also, I added she is Max's sister because I like reading and writing siter brother bonds.

There’s probably spelling errors and grammar mistakes, but I wrote this in a night.

Lando 24, reader 22. (Dating 1 year but not discussed) Masterlist

When Lando met Y/n, he knew she was a fan of the Hunger Games movies. She loved them a lot. She had read all the books. Everything.

So when the new one came out Lando took her to see it even if he had never really seen one of the previous movies.

Let's just say y/n was hooked onto the main guy who played Coriolanus.

It was something Lando didn't really know about. But he thought nothing of it as it was highly unlikely that they would See this Tom Blyth fellow at a race.

Five months after the movie was released, Lando had completely forgotten about his girlfriend's crush.

It was race day at the Silverstone track. Lando and y/n walked into the paddock hand and hand, smiling at the fans that where there.

Y/n gasped and stoped suddenly. Lando frowned confused on why you girlfriend stoped.

"What's wrong?" He frowned and followed her eye sight to see a man in dark jeans and a dark shirt. Shaggy brown hair. "Who's that?" He asked slightly jealous at the way his girlfriend was looking at the man.

Y/n slapped him on the arm lightly, not looking away from Tom. "That's Tom Blyth. The guy who played Coriolanus Snow in the new hunger games movie." She explained to him. Gushing over him.

"Ahha." He made a face of recolonisation. When they watched the new movie y/n was obsessed with Coriolanus Snow and gushed about how Tom was a good actor to play him.

"I'm going to say hi." She spoke suddenly kissing his cheek and sleeping over to Tom who smiled at the girl.

Lando watch with his arms crosed. It's not that he didn't trust y/n it was that Tom guy. He watched as he placed his arm around her waist for a picture and he clenched his jaw.

He wouldn't say anything because it would only make her sad. He hated the way her face lit up as he asked her a question. Jealousy was sweeping in through his veins.

Max, who was walking down the paddock saw his sisters boyfriend frowning and followed his eye sight.

He laughed knowing Y/n liked Coriolanus Snow and extension to who played him.

"No need to be jealous." Max commented as he pattered Lando's shoulder shaking the boy from his thoughts.

"I'm not." Lando scoffed and went back to watching his girlfriend as she bid the Brit goodbye.

"Say that to your clenched jaw and your posture." Max chuckled just as y/n was standing in front of them.

"Max." She beamed and kissed him on the cheek. Y/n looked over at Lando with a happy face. "Tom said he was coming tot he McLaren garage. So I said he could stand with me." She gushed.

"How wonderful." Lando smiled at her in fake happiness.

Max chuckled watching them walk away knowing jealous Lando is a funny Lando. He had seen Lando get jealous when guys would come up to her in the clubs.

Lando clenched his jaw hard as he watch Tom make y/n laugh and throw he head back in laughter.

All day y/n had been showing Tom around. And when she was with Lando a bit, all she talked about was Tom and how he filmied Billy The Kid in the snowny mountains.

Charles had teased him about it but backed of seeing the anger in his eyes.

Lando was suited up and ready for the race and was talking to Will. He knew driving like this was a bad idea. Being frustrated beofer a race, never good.

He was normally a jealous guy but he also knew no one could match up to him. But this Tom guy could.

He was handsome. Older. The Verstappen's had a thing for older people. (🤭) Y/n only being 22.

Lando took a deep breath knowing y/n would never cheat on him. Or do anything like that to jeopardise there relationship.

Zak was about to ask Lando a question when Lando pushed his helmet into Will's hand abruptly and stored over to y/n.

"-and then he gave me all thease roses-" y/n was cut of from talking to Tom as Lando grabbed her hand and basically yanked her to his driver's room. "Hey!" She yelled.

Lando ignored her until he pushed her lightly into his driver's room.

"What was that for? I was talking to Tom." Y/n asked closing her arms watching Lando as he signed and then clenched his jaw.

"Do you like this Tom Blyth guy?" He blurted out.

Y/n frowned confused, not knowing what he was talking about. "What?"

Lando signed annoyed, "All day you have been hanging out with him. Laughing with him. Just Tom, Tom Tom." He ranted.

"That dosnt mean I like him." She told her Brit boyfriend.

Lando shook his head, "You barely spent the day with me."

"Your racing today Lan."

"So." He pondered crosing his arms.

Y/n laughed suddenly knowing what he was feeling. "Your jealous." She stated.

Lando shook his head. "I am not." He refused in a child's way.

"There's nothing to be jealous of. We were just talking. That's it." Y/n assured him.

"You looked pretty happy with him." He told her with a frown.

Y/n matched that frown and crosed her arms, now a little angry. "Jesus Lan, we were just talking. Yes I have a crush on him but that's only because we just watched hunger games." She sighed uncrosing her arms and looking away. "We actually have alot in common. As friends. He also has a girlfriend."

Lando looked away from her. Y/n sugged her shoulders with a sly smile, "Well he dose have nice hair though." She couldn’t help but teased.

Lando's head snapped to her direction. "No way. You can't love his hair. You love my hair." He refused making his way over to her and wrapping his arms around her waist.

That was true. Y/n loved Lando’s hair. She had helped him keep his curls more healthy looking. Y/n loved to play with his as well as Lando loved it when she pulled his hair during sex.

Y/n sighed and pulled him into her. She wrapped her arms around his neck and started playing with the hair on the back of his neck.

"I'm jealous." He confused. When y/n tried to pull back he refused and held onto her longer. "I'm scared that you'll leave me for someone older. You said when we first got together your type was older men and you liked British people."

Lando dl tightened his hold on her a little, "I don't want to lose you."

Lando was insured about losing the only person he loved more in the world, other then his family.

Y/n sighed and closed her eyes, she finally pulled away from Lando and put her hands on his cheeks. "I do like older men. I do like British men. But I love you." She spoke softly. She smiled at him, making him smile back. "You are the man I will always come home to. You are the one I love. No one, not even a crush I have will stop that because that's it. A crush." She told Lando.

"I love you." Lando smiled kissing her on the lips. Y/n smiled through the kiss.

"I love you." She replied breathless when they parted.

Lando signed and rested his head on her forehead. "I'm sorry for accusing you of liking that guy."

"You mean Tom." Y/n giggled.

"Hmm." He hummed, not caring of his name.

"God Lando." She checked, kissing his cheek before stepping away from him. "Now go out there and race." She giggled as he led then out of his driver's room.

When they got back to the garage Will looked over at them and Lando shot him a thumbs up to indicate it was all good.

Lando turned to his girlfriend. "But do stay with Lilly or something." He pleaded.

Y/n giggled. "Sure." She kissed Lando again beofer he was called over to his engineer. She would do it to ease his nerves and insecurities.

As y/n steped next to Lilly, Tom looked over at her and shot her a smile. She shot a small one back, before talking to Lilly.

Yes she loves Tom Blyth as a crush but her true heart belongs to Lando. He had nothing to worry about, ever.

He would be the one she spend the rest of her life with. What she didn’t known was a ring was resting in Lando’s bed side table. A ring that would sit on her left hand at the end of the year.

<><>

[irisintheafterglow]

blood moonlit, must be counterfeit

summary: a guy at a party has a really good dynamight costume, and you two get to talking about your favorite heroes. (pro!bakugo x you)

wc: 1.68k

cw/tags: swearing ofc cuz it's bakugo, mentions of drinking and alcohol, halloween party, first meeting, emotionally constipated katsuki and reader is kinda oblivious lol

note: NEW HALLOWEEN HEADER BABY also this idea had me by the throat so i needed to write it down before it consumed my entire psyche. i'm back to writing for bakugo again because iykyk and halloween fics are giving me a lot of motivation right now. hope you enjoy!

likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated <3

“I have to admit–your costume is pretty damn good.”

“Yeah? Just ‘pretty good?’”

“Mhmm. Almost looks like the real thing,” you remark, taking another sip of the dangerously sweet jungle juice in your cup. It's an unreadable mix of bad ideas and bold flirtation, perfect for a Halloween party of barely 21 adults. The blonde guy beside you on the worn leather couch tilts his head slightly like he's re-affirming what you just said in his mind. “I think the real Dynamight would be impressed.”

“Would he, now,” he huffs under his breath, mouth curling into an unreadable smirk. He exhales a quick breath of what you think is amusement through his nose, eyes flicking over your body for the umpteenth time since he sat down with you. It makes your face heat up and you casually avert your gaze downward, catching more details of his costume that you didn’t notice before. 

The gauntlets were obviously the star of the arrangement, covered in numerous scratches, burns, and dents that attested to their “battle” usage. The boots were impressive, too, and you wondered how long it took to place every individual orange eyelet over the front of each calf. The cinder block rectangles sitting on his broad shoulders truly looked like real stone, solid like the toned muscle holding them up. It was the domino mask that threw you off the most, though. The guy must have been wearing bright red contacts, or something, because to look so similar to the actual Pro should have been considered a crime. 

“Who’d you come to the party with?”

“Just some friends,” he replies, shrugging an infuriatingly sexy shoulder. His entire look was putting the real Dynamight to shame, in your opinion. He nods upward in the direction of a guy in an equally accurate Deku costume standing with a very convincing Shoto lookalike. “They dared me to wear this and I lost the bet.”

“Must have been some bet, if you’re moping over here like a toddler.” The shrewdness of your words escapes you until they’re already past your lips; thankfully, he just smirks again and leans his head back, resting an arm on the back of the sofa.

“I’ll ignore that you said that, 'cause you're clearly intoxicated” he mutters, shooting you a brutal side-eye. Thanks to the alcohol, though, you’re far from deterred. 

“How gracious,” you chuckle and his smirk gets a little more arrogant. “What was the bet?”

“Some dumb drinking contest. That asswipe in the green can put down more shots than he looks.” He scowls and you fight down the urge to giggle at his bitter expression. He was the only guy you’ve ever seen that could make a grumpy face look hot. The only guy besides Bakugo himself, of course. “I wouldn’t have worn this shit to a party to save my life.”

“What, Dynamight isn’t your favorite Pro?”

“I’m more of an All Might guy,” he replies nonchalantly. He appreciates the classic heroes. Good sign. “If I had to choose a different one, I’d probably say Jeanist.”

“Jeanist is pretty cool. My best friend had a cardboard cutout of Eraserhead in her closet growing up.” He barks out a laugh and it startles you, but a mysterious feeling in your stomach wants to make him do it again. “What do you think of the current gen of heroes?” He hums thoughtfully, running his tongue over his top lip and you swallow back your drool.

“Red Riot’s a good guy. Deku pisses me the fuck off, but he’s got a good head on his shoulders. Same thing with Pinky and that Half-and-Half asshat. Chargebolt…” His expression turns into a frown so deep you’re worried that Chargebolt killed his family or something heinous like that. 

“What about him?”

“He’s just dumb. If given the choice between his life and a grain of sand, I’d take the sand,” he deadpans and you choke unexpectedly, wincing as your drink travels up the wrong tube and into your nose. His eyes widened in concern, reaching out to pat your back but deciding against it at the last moment. His glove-covered hands hover around you like you’re radioactive matter, carefully watching as you regain your composure. “You good, nerd?” Uses the same vocabulary as the real guy, too. Kind of weird, but I guess we all have our idols. 

“Yeah, I’m good. I just didn’t expect you to badmouth him like you two were friends from high school or something,” you joke lightheartedly and the guy blinks at you twice before computing what you said. 

“It’s whatever. They’re super fuckin’ easy to read, in any case,” he states with an air of finality and you down the rest of your drink, the dim lighting starting to blur everything around you into a single greenish-orange blob. “What about you? What are your thoughts on the new gen?”

“I can’t make such bold judgments as you, but I do think Dynamight is pretty cool,” you admit, suddenly feeling a little bashful when having the same question turned on you. The truth was, you followed the lives of the heroes a bit too closely than the average person should. It fascinated you so much that you were majoring in Quirk-specific journalism, studying the social and economic consequences of being a Pro. “I think his public persona is an interesting case when compared to other heroes.”

“How so?”

“Well, I’d like to imagine that he’s not always the loud, arrogant, obnoxious piece of shit that the press shows,” you start and narrow your eyes in confusion when he flinches at your description. You continue anyway but choose your words a little more carefully. Probably isn’t good to upset the guy who might have fashioned functioning gauntlets, if the costume truly is accurate. “There’s a side to him that I think the public doesn’t know about and doesn’t care to know about, since it’s easier to understand him as a loudmouth with no sense of manners. I just wonder who that guy is under all the yelling and testosterone.” His silence is deafening and you worry that you somehow offended him, but his tone is so gentle that your assumption becomes an impossibility.

“Seems like you’ve given this guy a great deal of thought,” he says lowly, voice barely audible over the sound of the blaring house music. 

“Well, he is my favorite,” you add quietly, not expecting him to catch what you said. He does, though, and that mischievous smirk returns to his face. Somehow, you two had inched closer together over the course of your conversation, and you were now close enough to smell his cologne. It was something deep and smoky, with a surprise note of sweetness, like caramel. “I’ve been following his hero career since I was in high school.”

“I didn’t take you for a superfan, but I do appreciate your support,” he chuckles and your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “You seriously haven’t figured it out?”

“Figured what out?”

“That I’m Dynamight, stupid. This is my actual costume and those are my actual friends. Hell, I'm paying for this whole shitty party,” he says incredulously, genuinely shocked that you didn’t come to that conclusion already. Your skepticism, however, rears its head and you burst out into rude laughter. 

Dynamight? Yeah, right. More like Dyna-maybe. 

“Excuse me?” He stares at you like you’d grown three heads and your heart drops into your stomach. You must have said your thoughts out loud. Fuck! “You’ve got some nerve, testing the patience of a Pro.” His words, under any other circumstances, would have cut down your pride like a knife. However, his eyes were conveying a different story, one of lust and want and holyshityouwantedhim. “Got anything to say, sweetheart? Or are you gonna just keep gaping like a fuckin’ goldfish?” You abruptly snap your jaw back into place, leaning your head into your hand and smiling in triumph when his gaze again uncontrollably rakes over your body.  

“I’ll believe it when I see it.”

“See what, gorgeous?”

“That a Pro kisses better than a normal person,” you murmur and his pupils blow to the size of pool balls. He wastes no time, gently but firmly grabbing your chin with two fingers and pulling your mouth onto his. His lips are ridiculously soft and you muster up the courage to bite him softly, heartbeat racing when he groans into your mouth. One arm drapes itself over the back of the couch, the other pulling you as close to him as humanly possible without practically sitting on him. Your hand combs through his hair and the other keeps him on you by the back of his neck.

Right when you run out of breath, he pulls away and swears colorfully at the phone buzzing in his pocket, answering it with one hand while his forearm is still pressed against your lower back. You absentmindedly trace his jawline with a finger while he curses out the person on the other line, eventually chucking the device over his shoulder like it was the last thing he was thinking about. “You need to go somewhere, sweetheart?” He lightly pinches your side at your mockery and you jump, flicking his forehead in defiance. 

“Nah, that was a job for Dynamight. Right now, I guess I’m still fuckin' Dyna-maybe,” he rasps and leans back in to kiss you again but you push his face away, giving him as sober of a look as possible. “What?”

“If you need to go kick ass, then go kick ass. I’m just some random makeout at a party,” you remind him, painfully aware of the sting if he was to leave you alone. His expression contorts into indignancy again but you still try to convince him to alleviate whatever situation he was called in for. “Your job is more important than a hookup.”

“I don’t do hookups, dumbass. I’m interested in you,” he states plainly and your face is set on fire. The Pro, who you just insulted to his face, was interested in you? “So, let’s get out of here, yeah? I can make you dinner that isn’t shitty pizza.” His mouth breaks into a devilish grin and you’re already grabbing onto his hand like your life depended on it. 

“If someone messes with us?”

“It’s a good thing I’m already in costume.” 

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[atomicami]

special snapshot

tattoo artist!abby anderson x fem!reader

- summary: you decide to tease abby before she meets an important client at her shop by sneaking in a special photograph of yourself. once she finds it during her shift at work, she decides to have a private photo session with you in the bedroom.

- content: smut MDNI, no outbreak/modern au, vegas living, established relationship, a bad australian impression (sorry aussies ily), lots of picture taking, strap usage (r!receiving), possessive dom!abby, submissive headspace (r), abby’s custom strap (if ykyk), abby refers to her strap as her cock, use of nicknames towards reader (angel, princess, sweet girl etc), edging, overuse of the words ‘inked’ and ‘tatted’ bc i can’t think of anything else

- author’s note: the wait is finally over, you asked and i delivered. here is my first tattoo artist!abby one shot! this is the first idea that came to my mind at the time, but i might make more of these if y’all like this one.

if you’re new to my page and haven’t seen my original post about tattoo artist!abby, you can find that here. a lot of references i’ve made in this fic come directly from my hc post.

also, i have a masterlist now so y’all can easily find my fics and see what i’m currently working on :)

- middle pic creds to @abbystanaccount

“Come on, come on…hurry up already…”

You were pacing around the bathroom floor, impatiently waiting as the image below you still appeared white. Your girlfriend was running late for work right now because she’d spent the past 10 minutes endlessly searching throughout her apartment for something that was currently in your possession.

“Babe! I still can’t find it! Are you sure you haven’t seen my camera anywhere?”

Abby’s looked around every single area in her apartment so many times that she’s lost count. Every single area except the four walls that surround you right now. Her Polaroid camera was there, sitting on the bathroom counter in front of you, right next to a photograph that was still waiting to develop.

You grabbed the photograph and began to shake it again before setting it back down. After a couple more attempts, it finally began to develop. You smiled as you picked up the photograph, shaking it one last time for good measure before seeing the fully developed image you took of yourself. The plan you had come up with today was sinister, and you were all in for it.

“Babe! Have you checked for it in my room again?”

Abby’s footsteps were approaching the bedroom, causing you to quickly grab your pants from the floor and put them back on. You then grabbed the photograph and carefully placed it in your back pocket before taking the camera and leaving the en suite bathroom. By the time Abby walked in and saw you, you still had her camera in your hands.

“There it is!” She exclaimed before sighing in relief. “Where was it?”

“You left it by the window over there.” You reply, pointing over to her bedroom window with your free hand.

“Wow, you have a good eye, babe. I never would have guessed it’d be there.” She took the camera from your hands and wrapped her arms around you. This brief moment allowed you to take the developed piece of film out of your back pocket and quickly slide it into the back pocket of her dark wash jeans. Luckily, your girlfriend was too distracted about today to even notice.

“I’ve got this first-time client coming from Australia today to get a tattoo…” She began as she broke her hug from you. “He said he loves my work and wants—“ She cuts herself off as she checks the back of the camera. “Damn it, I’m out of film…” She let out a sigh once she saw the little 0 appearing in white next to the film cartridge compartment. There were no more shots left on her camera.

Well, there was one left…but you already used it.

Abby didn’t think anything of it though. She figured that she used up the last 10 shots between her past clients and her previous photo sessions with you in the bedroom. “I’ll have to pick up some film on my way to the shop, hopefully I’ll get there before my client comes in…” You watched as Abby opened up the back of the camera and took out the empty film cartridge before tossing it out and closing the compartment. She looked up and smiled at you, quickly rushing in to kiss you. “Thanks again for finding it, babe. I’ll let you know when I’m back from work, yeah?”

You nodded in response, kissing her back. “Of course babe, good luck with the client today!” Abby shot another smile back at you before leaving her room. Once you heard her keys jingle and the front door closing, you let out a breath of relief. If it weren’t for Abby being so distracted by this big client flying over halfway around the world just to get a tattoo done by her, she most definitely would have caught you a lot sooner. But luckily, she took the bait.

Now all you had to do was wait for her to find it.

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅

Abby hurriedly got out of her car upon arriving at her shop. Once she entered inside, she saw her special client there talking to Nora at reception. She was super relieved to have made it in time.

“There she is!” Nora exclaimed once she saw her. “Speak of the devil, we were just talking about you.”

Abby raised an eyebrow at her as she approached the reception area. “All good things, I hope?” she said jokingly before looking over to her client. “I’m Abby, you must be Nathan?” she asked, extending a hand for him to shake it. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting for too long.”

Nathan shook his head in response as he shook her hand. “It’s no worries mate, I just got in a few minutes ago.”

“Sounds good, I can get you started over here.” She brings Nathan over to her station to get himself situated. “I was working on your piece last night and came up with a few options for you to choose from.” Abby sets her things down at her desk while turning over to him and pulling her phone out of her pocket. Her back pocket. The same pocket that you slipped the photograph in less than an hour ago.

But what Abby didn’t notice was that the photograph had slipped out of her back pocket and onto the ground right behind her.

Abby didn’t notice it, but Nora sure did.

Nora was just passing by to give Abby some transfer paper when she saw the photograph lying face down on the floor. Clutching the transfer paper in her hands, she quickly copped a squat to pick it up. “Abby, you dropped one of your—oh” Nora cut her own words off once she accidentally caught a glimpse of the photo, causing Abby to turn around and face her. “You okay?”

“Yeah, um…I’m guessing this isn’t meant to go on your wall…” She replied as she handed her the photo face down, her voice quiet enough so that her client wouldn’t hear.

The blonde furrowed her brows in confusion when Nora gave her the photo. “Not on my wall? What are you—“ She flipped over the photo to take a look before quickly flipping it face down and hiding it in her palm. Now she understood what Nora meant by that.

It looks like Abby’s camera did have one shot left after all.

Abby was startled when she felt Nathan tap her shoulder, causing her to turn back around. “Everything alright?” he asked, his tone slightly curious.

“Y-Yeah, yeah everything’s fine! Just excuse me for one moment.” She briefly excused herself before speedwalking to the back of the shop and locking herself in the first room she could find. The photograph remained hidden in her palm.

Taking a deep breath, Abby lifted the photograph to take a better look. It was of you, front and center on the camera, wearing that same black skin-tight shirt she saw you in this morning. Despite the quality, Abby could tell you didn’t have a bra on because she could easily see your nipples poking through. Along with that, you were also wearing something else— a matching thong with rhinestones on the waistband. It must’ve been new because Abby had never seen you in that before.

It was taking Abby everything right now to not drop what she was doing and leave to go home and fuck you senseless. Seeing this photograph alone was already causing her boxers to dampen. But she needed to work on this client. She’s been planning on doing this piece on him for months, she can’t back out of this now.

Abby took a deep breath, giving the photograph one last look before putting it back into her pocket and turning around to exit the room. She walks back to her station and sees Nathan patiently waiting for her in the chair.

“Alright, let’s get started shall we?”

── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ✩ ──⋅

You don’t hear back from Abby all day.

You figured that it could’ve been because of her special client, along with whoever else shows up to get a tattoo from her. But what really happened was that Abby decided to take the rest of the day off after finishing with her client and was waiting for you to come into her apartment.

You unlocked the door to Abby’s place with the spare key she gave you and entered inside before closing it shut behind you. To your surprise, you see Abby sitting there on the couch. She was manspreading, with one of her tatted arms perched over her knee so she could rest her chin.

“Hey babe, you’re home early…” You set your things down at the counter before walking over to her. “How did it go with the client?”

Abby lifted her head from her hands, looking up in your direction. “The client went great, actually…he loved the piece I tattooed for him.”

“That’s good, um…why are you home so early?”

You felt the need to ask her right off the bat. There was a feeling that you were getting. A sense of knowing that she found the photograph.

“No reason…just felt like taking the rest of the day off.”

You simply nod in response before slowly heading over to her bedroom. And as if you could feel her presence approaching, Abby soon followed behind you, closing the door once the two of you were inside. There was a brief moment of silence before Abby decided to speak up. “Did you think I wouldn’t find it?”

You turned around to face her. She stood there, her tatted sleeves crossed in front of her chest, with a smirk plastered on her freckled face.

She found the photograph. You know she did.

But you still decide to play dumb.

You furrow your brows in confusion. “Find what? What are you talking about?”

“Don’t play silly with me now, princess….” You watched as Abby reached into her back pocket, that same back pocket you slipped the photograph in, and saw her pull it out. The delicate photograph of your body stood in between her inked fingers, fully on display in front of you.

“So much not having any shots left on my camera, right?” She said as she began to slowly step forward in your direction.

“Do you not like it…?” You ask her quietly, quickly looking down once she’s right in front of you. You start to feel like doing this to her wasn’t a good idea after all.

Abby’s expression softens for a brief moment. “Oh, baby…” she lifts your chin up with her free hand before leaning in to plant a kiss on your cheek. “Of course I love it. You look so fucking sexy in this.” She looks back down at the photograph before directing her attention back at you.

“But do you remember the rule I told you about these?” She asks sternly, holding the piece of film in front of you.

You avert your gaze away from her and back to the ground. “Your eyes only…” you mutter out to her.

Abby lifts your chin back up once again to face her. “That’s right, angel. My eyes only.”

She points the photograph towards her and taps the corner gently on her chest, just a few inches above her chest piece in reference to herself.

“Mine. No one else’s.”

She slowly lets go of your chin and looks back down at the small piece of film. “You’re lucky it was only Nora who found it…if it were any of the guys, I would’ve gone insane.” She takes a closer look at the photograph, remembering the new thong you had on in the photo before looking back at you. “Are you wearing it?”

You nod.

Abby hooks an inked finger on the belt loop of your pants and gently tugs on it. “Off, princess. I want to see you just like how I saw you in this picture.”

You follow her command, bringing your hands down to the waistband of your pants and slowly unzipping them before pushing them down your thighs. Once they’re at your feet, you step out of them and take a step towards her. She then slips one of her hands under your shirt until they stop at the hem of your bra, gently tugging it down as well. “This too.”

Reaching underneath your shirt, you quickly unhook your bra, pulling the straps off of your shoulders before taking it out completely and dropping it on the ground. Abby took a step back to take in the sight of you. “My sweet girl…You look so good for me right now..” She muttered quietly. You feel her run her tatted hand through your body, starting at your hip and making its way up to one of your tits.

She looks back at the photograph for a brief moment, noticing you had one of your hands covering that same one. An idea flashed through her mind, you could tell because that same smirk was starting to appear on her face again. Her hand lets go from your breast and drops back to her side. “Don’t move. I’ll be right back.”

Abby leaves her room for a moment before quickly returning, now with her camera in her hands. “How about we recreate that pretty picture of you, hm? Would you like that?” You nod to her in response, biting your lip to hide your smile.

“Words, princess.”

You nod again, a little quicker this time. “Yes, I’d love to do that.”

Abby walks over to you and sets the photograph at the corner of her bed before turning her camera on. Once it was ready, she pointed the camera right in front of you with one hand and used her free hand to gently grab your breast, placing her thumb on top of your hardening nipple. She looked into the viewfinder, adjusting the angle and position before a quick flash went through your eyes.

The photo slowly whirs out of the camera. But Abby doesn’t even bother to check it out yet. Instead, she sets the camera to the side right next to the original photograph of you and begins to undo her jeans. “Kneel for me, princess.”

By instinct, you drop down to your knees in front of her. You already know what’s about to happen next.

As soon as the zipper of her jeans goes down you can already see it. The bulge underneath her black boxers, with a sliver of light tan with black marks peeking out of it. The thought of having that piece of silicone inside you was already making you desperate.

Once Abby’s jeans are pooling at her ankles she brings down her boxers in one swift motion, causing her strap-on to spring free right in front of you. You could already feel your mouth watering at the sight of it alone.

Abby notices your dumbfounded expression and smirks. “Look at you, princess…already drunk just by looking at my inked cock. Do you want it inside you, angel? Is that what you want?”

You look up at her and nod quickly while clenching your thighs at the same time. “Please, Abs…need it so bad….”

“I know you do, my sweet girl…” Her hand comes down to her side and gently holds your jaw, tilting your head up to look at her. “How about you get it wet for me, yeah? Get my cock ready so I can fuck that pretty pussy of yours.”

Without even thinking twice, you wrap your hands around the strap-on, your fingertips covering over some of the fake ink that was plastered on it. The tip of it was practically face-to-face with you. You position it towards your mouth before opening it wide and taking in as much as you can down your throat. The strap barely reaches halfway, so you begin to stroke whatever your mouth can’t reach with your hands while bobbing your head up and down simultaneously.

Abby keeps her gaze fixated on you, then briefly looks over at the camera that is sitting on her bed. She brings a hand down to the back of your head, slowly guiding it up and down her inked strap. “That’s it, princess, just like that…” She mutters out to you as she quickly reaches over to grab her camera off of the bed. In doing so the strap accidentally lunges itself forward down your throat, causing you to gag. You take your mouth off of Abby’s strap for a moment to take a deep breath before looking up at her, now with the camera in her hands again.

“Smile for me, princess.”

The flash of the camera passes through your vision again. Another photo whirs out of the slot.

You get back to sucking on her strap, even harder this time out of pure desperation to have it inside your walls already. Abby pulls the photo out and tosses the camera aside, beginning to quickly shake it to see the final product.

You hear her let out a quiet groan once she sees the fully developed piece of film. “God…you look so beautiful like this, angel…sucking my cock like the good girl you are.” She sets the second photograph aside and gently grabs your head again to pull your mouth off of her strap. Her strong tatted hands then grab at your waist, effortlessly picking you up and placing you down on the center of her bed.

Abby tugs down at the hem of your shirt as an indication for you to take it off. “Take this off, princess. I need to see all of you.” You oblige, taking off your shirt and tossing it to the ground. Abby does the same with her muscle tank and sports bra, exposing the rest of her patchworked body to you. At this point, the arousal in between your legs just keeps growing and growing, along with the urge to also be completely ridden of the little black piece of fabric that was pressed against your pussy right now. You bring a desperate hand down to the jeweled band of your thong to take it off, only for it to be lightly smacked by Abby’s tatted hand.

“Except this. This stays on.”

You nod in response, setting your hands aside, and letting your girlfriend do the rest of the work for you. You spread your legs open while Abby positions herself on top of you. The tip of her inked strap falls right on the damp fabric covering your crotch, causing a whimper to escape from your mouth. She then hooks a finger under the fabric and shifts it to the side, revealing your gushing wet pussy to her.

It takes a minimal amount of effort for Abby to insert the tip of her strap inside of you before pushing in the first couple of inches. “Fuck, princess…look how it's going in…you’re always taking my cock so well…”

You look down to see the piece of inked silicone connecting your bodies. With a desperate need to be filled, you bring a trembling hand down to your pussy and use two fingers to spread your folds open so Abby could keep pushing her strap inside you. Your jaw drops in pleasure as she slowly pushes in a few more inches, and the two of you still don’t take your eyes off of it, both watching as the tattoos on her fake cock slowly disappear as it makes its way into your cunt.

Abby lets out a groan once she bottoms out before tightening the harness on her strap, making sure it's pressed closely against her cunt. You feel your pussy start to clench around the strap as it sits there inside of you. Your body was practically begging for some movement to happen.

“Abby, please…I-I need you to move…” You whimper out to her, looking down at the base of her strap that was resting below your heat. Within seconds you began to feel it moving inside you. Abby starts to thrust in and out of you slowly, but that slow pace progressively turns into a rapid one.

Before you knew it, you were gripping onto the sheets to keep yourself from possibly getting slammed against the headboard, despite Abby’s firm hands holding your hips down. Your tits and thighs were bouncing and jiggling uncontrollably. Moans and whimpers were escaping from the two of you. But most importantly, Abby was hitting that special spot inside you with every single thrust.

She wasn’t stopping her pace at all…until that familiar phrase slipped from your mouth.

“Abby…I-I’m getting close…”

That’s when she stopped. That’s when she pulled her strap out of you. That’s when you snapped back to reality…for now.

You quickly shook your head as you watched her inked strap practically pull itself out of your pussy. “No….no no no no, Abby! Why would you do that?!” You whined out in protest. You let your hands go from the sheets and brought them to her hips, attempting to bring her closer to you so she could slip herself back inside of you.

Unfortunately, your attempt to do so was unsuccessful. Abby shook her head and pushed your hands off of her hips. “I’m sorry angel, but I’m not letting you cum like this. Not after that stunt you pulled today.”

You felt your body break at the possible feeling that you weren’t gonna be able to finish tonight, but you understood that you still needed to be taught a lesson.

“So…You’re not gonna let me cum at all tonight?” You mutter out to her quietly. The smirk that shows up on her face once again tells you something different.

“Oh, my sweet girl…I didn’t say that I wasn’t going to let you cum at all…” She brings a hand to your jaw and gently strokes it with her thumb. “You’re going to cum, but you’ll do it my way. All fours, princess.”

That statement alone had you flipping onto your stomach in an instant. At this point, you were willing to do anything to get a release, even if it meant having to do things her way.

Once you were on all fours, you soon felt Abby’s lips start kissing at your shoulder, slowly making its way down to your lower back. “You have no idea…how good you look for me like this…” she murmurs in between kisses. She plants some more kisses on your lower back, specifically on your tattoo that rests above the band of your thong. Your first tattoo. The one that Abby put onto your body the first day you met her. It gave Abby so much pride to see her work on you, especially in the position you’re in right now.

You feel the weight of the bed shift around for a bit and look over your shoulder to see Abby reaching for her camera again. She brings a hand to your waist to keep your back straight. “I want you to stay just like this, princess, okay?” You nod in response, resting your head on the pillow as you perk your ass farther up in front of her.

With her camera in one hand, Abby uses her other hand to shift your thong to the side again before positioning her inked strap at your tight entrance. Given how soaked you were at this point, it slides in with a lot less effort the second time around. You let out a whimper once she bottoms out, causing you to involuntarily jerk your hips at her.

As a result, Abby gives you a light smack on your ass. “Stay still, angel…I need this one to come out perfect.” She hovers the camera on top of you and looks through the viewfinder, making sure you’re perfectly centered.

You hear the flash behind you once again, followed by the whirring sound right after.

Abby sets the camera aside and places both hands at your hips, beginning to thrust into you at that same slow pace she was doing before. It didn’t take long for Abby to speed it up. Now she was back to hitting your g spot with every single thrust of her strap.

“Fuck…look at you, my sweet girl…taking my tatted cock so well..” She tells you in between her thrusts. “I bet you wish…someone could get a picture of this, hmm?”

The pleasure Abby’s giving you is so intense that you can barely decipher what she’s saying to you. She keeps talking you through it, but her voice slowly starts to fade through the blood pumping in your eardrums and the feeling of TV static filling your brain. You find yourself slowly slipping into a newfound headspace as Abby continues to pound herself into your pussy.

Regardless of how drunk you were feeling from it, you try your best to form a response to whatever she tells you.

“F-Feels s-so good, Abs…D-don’t stop…” you slur out to her.

Your entire body feels heavy right now, but you make an effort to extend one of your hands behind you and hold one of hers. You grasp onto Abby’s hand tightly as she keeps fucking you.

Abby notices and clutches your hand into hers as it remains on your hips. “Don’t worry princess, I got you, just stay with me, yeah? I promise you’ll get to—fuck—“ Abby cuts herself off, moaning at the feeling of the leather harness rubbing against the small barbell that rested above her clit. This motivates her to thrust even faster into you, now with a desire to chase her release.

As her pace gets faster, you start to get closer. Your cunt begins to repeatedly clench itself around her strap, indicating that you were going to cum. You try to tell her that you’re about to cum, but you were already getting so fucked into this headspace that you were struggling to get the words out of your mouth. As a result, you start to dig your fingers into the back of Abby’s hand to get her attention.

Abby felt your nails digging into her hand, which were already forming crescent indents on her inked skin. She looks over at you, seeing your fucked out expression with your mouth agape against the pillow and your eyes rolling to the back of your head. “Are you gonna cum, angel?” she asks, only receiving a slow nod followed by a few desperate gasps from you as a response. “I-fuck, I’m gonna cum too…Just let it out for me, princess, you deserve it.” While keeping one hand on your hips, she brings her free hand around your waist to rub quick circles on your throbbing clit as she continues to fuck you relentlessly.

And that’s what sends you over the edge. A string of whines and mewls escape from your mouth once you get there. You dig your nails deeper into Abby’s hand while your other hand fists the corner of the pillow. Your thighs begin to tremble, and your cunt pulses a few more times around the strap before fully coating it with your slick. Abby finishes right after you with a loud groan, completely cumming inside the harness. She keeps herself inside you for a little bit before slowly pulling out, letting out a quiet grunt at the sight of the string of slick connecting between your pussy and the tip of her strap.

Your body was completely limp at this point, and Abby could tell. She guides your lower half back down onto the bed so you’re lying down on your side. As you bring yourself back to reality, you feel the warmth of her hand stroking your jaw, leading you to slowly blink your eyes open. The first thing you see is her eyes scanning yours, making sure you were okay after your intense release.

“There she is…” she says quietly, smiling right after. “Are you okay, angel? I didn’t go too hard on you did I?”

You slowly shook your head in response, smiling back at her as you try to catch your breath. “Of course not, Abs…you felt amazing…” you pant out to her.

Abby lets out a sigh of relief before leaning in and planting a kiss on your lips before kissing your forehead. “I’m gonna get you cleaned up now, okay?”

You watch as Abby gets off of the bed and takes off her strap before slipping her boxers back on and heading into her bathroom. You hear the sound of the water running in the background, knowing that she was drawing a bath for you right now.

As the water continues to run, Abby jogs out of the bathroom and heads over to the bed to pick up all of the developed photos that were spread out on the sheets. She looks through each one of them before pulling out her wallet and storing them inside. You can’t help but let out a giggle over it. Her wallet was so full of your photos that you could easily see the thickness of it from the side.

Abby looks over to you as she closes her wallet. “What’s so funny?”

“Don’t you think you have too many pictures of me in there?”

She shakes her head in disagreement. “Nonsense. there’s no such thing as too many pictures of you.” You watch her walk over to your side and feel her lips planting another kiss on your cheek.

“Besides…they’re for my eyes only, remember?”

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