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darkbluekies · 17 days ago

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What do you want from me?

Yandere!mafia oc x reader

Summary: the cops take you away from Silas

Warnings: mafia, kidnapping, killing, blood, Stockholm syndrome

Word count: 5k

The candles are lit. You and Silas are having dinner in the dining room, finally. He’s been wanting this for weeks, just you and him together, no one interfering. Not a minute has gone by where he hasn’t thought of you, fantasized about you, but now he finally has you. Every time he’s been trying to get close to you, someone has butted in and demanded him to do something else. There’s always something, someone, that needs something. SIC has tried to take care of a few things, but the final say always belongs to Silas.

“I wish we could do this more often”, he says and takes a sip of his red wine, scoffing. “Without people pulling me away from you. One more person disturbing me and you’ll have to sedate me—I’m not joking.”

Your lips tug on a smile as you poke the food with your fork, trying to make it look like you’ve eaten more than you have. Silas picks up on it immediately.

“Are you not hungry?” he asks.

“I am, just …”

“Didn’t you like it?”

“I did, I’m just not feeling like eating right now … but I don’t want to ruin your dinner … you’ve been thinking about it for so long. I feel bad.”

“Baby, sulking won’t make me any happier. Tell me what’s wrong instead. The quicker I can make you happy, the quicker our date can be good.”

“There’s no particular reason … that’s why I’m feeling bad.”

“Come here.”

You stand up and make your way over to him. He pulls you down in his lap, hands holding you firmly. His hands always finding the most sensitive parts of your body, as if to mess with you.

“Does my pretty baby want to eat something else instead?” he smirked.

“Don’t get any stupid thoughts”, you scoff quietly, but couldn’t help but smile slightly.

“Stupid thoughts? We are married—fucking thankfully—and you think I don’t fantasize about my heavenly spouse going down on me at every waking hour?”

“You’re not a poet, that’s for damn sure.”

Silas chuckles and looks up at you. “Oh, really? Have you heard me recite poetry?”

“No, and I don’t want to either.”

His grin widens at your smile. He pulls you down by the back of your neck and captures your lips in a kiss. His hands wander, wrapping you closer, digging into you. He needs this. Needs this more than you could ever understand. His hands press you close to him. You can feel his heart through his clothes.

Hurried footsteps run into the room.

“Sorry to interrupt, boss-”

“Oh, come on”, Silas breathes out in frustration and runs a hand through his hair. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

He glares towards the door. SIC stands by the table, looking stressed.

“I’m busy”, Silas says, giving him a gaze full of annoyance and tightening the grip on you. “Do you mind?”

“There’s cops outside.”

You feel how Silas’s arms around you stiffen. His black eyes seem to shift twice as dark.

“Who lead them here?” he asks, not sounding as sweet as he had been towards you just a minute earlier.

“No idea, boss”, SIC replies.

“We need to leave.” Silas grabs your hand. “Come with me.”

He walks too quick for you to keep up and you almost stumble behind him. Silas drags you with him out of the dining room. SIC walks close behind you, as if to protect you in case something jumps out from behind.

“They want to take what’s in the attic, Silas”, SIC says. “And if they get a hold of you too, I’m sure they’ll be ecstatic. You need to be taken away from here.”

Silas knows that there are three people the police want—him, SIC and you. The three in the most inner circle. The goldmine.

SIC leads you to the back door. The front door bursts open and Silas’s other men try to stall the intruders. Silas pulls you with him as SIC stays behind to deal with the cops. He’s a master talker.

Silas realises that he doesn’t have any weapons. He’ll have to use his fist, like he used to do when he was a teenager, if anyone decides to attack him.

“Silas, what’s in the attic?” you ask as you walk out into the backyard.

“Nothing”, he says and looks around. “Come, we have to get to the car.”

He moves you in front of him. Someone in an uniform jumps out behind and Silas is quick to act. He attacks him. The cop falls over but is quick to start fighting back. They roll around on the ground and you watch on in horror, unable to do anything. You can’t join in, it wouldn’t be wise and Silas would be angry.

The car … I need to get to the car.

You decide to sneak towards the front side of the house, keeping close to the housewall to not blend into the darkness. Your heart hammers in your chest, but you make your way along the wall. Silas will be fine, he always gets out of these things with only a few scratches.

Someone grabs your arm. You gasp out a scream and meet a police’s eyes.

“Let me go!” you shout and try to rip your arm back.

“It’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you”, the cop says and tries to pull you with him. “I’m here to help you.”

You throw a glance behind your back. You can’t see Silas.

“No, let me go”, you breathe out. “I don’t want to go anywhere.”

The cop doesn’t listen. You feel your chest move heavily, head spin. A few months ago you’d done anything to be rescued by the police, but now? Now you want noting more than to be left alone. You can’t help but mourn the person who wanted out, who still believed in a hope of returning to a normal life. That person is gone. Forced away by Silas’s harsh punishment methods. You have no idea who this new person who emerged after your brain snapped, but you know that they’re connected to Silas … so if Silas isn’t here … who are you then? The person you were before Silas is gone and this new one is nothing without him.

The cop pulls you towards a cop car.

“No!” you scream. “I don’t want to go anywhere with you! Silas!”

Another cop comes running to grab your other arm.

“We’re here to help you”, they both insist.

But you just shake your head.

The one you should have helped is already gone.

“Silas, help me!” you scream once more.

You’re pushed into the backseat of a police car. You scream again and finally, you see him. He comes running from the backyard, blood on his face, but it’s too late. The car door is already shut. You rip at the handle, press at the window, but the child lock is forcing it closed. Silas eyes widen, but before he can do anything, the car has driven off.

You scream and claw at the window as the car drives away, eyes glued onto Silas until he disappears. Your panic directs towards the cops in the front seat. You scream, kick hit and plead, but the bars separating the front and back seat leaves them unharmed.

“We just want to help you”, the driver says.

“No!” you scream. “I want to go back! Let me go back! You don’t understand!”

“Whatever you’re scared of, you don’t have to worry. We will protect you.”

You give up trying to talk to them. It’s no use. They won’t understand.

When the car stops, you refuse to get out. You’ve curled up in the corner of the backseat, hugging yourself tightly. The two cops have to pull you out. You fight them, but whatever you do, they’re stronger.

“Let me go!” you scream.

They must have an ability to turn off their ears, because your cries fall on deafened ears, as they pull you into the police station.

“Sir”, one of them said. “We got them!”

An older man looks up from a couple of papers. His eyes glow as they fall on you. You glare at him.

“Great job”, he said. “Put them in the interrogation room and I will be there soon.”

The two cops drag you through the police station. They’re not rough, but they’re not gentle either. It’s a silent promise, you will come with them. The interrogation room is small and sterile, grey and dead. You get to sit down by a table and then, you’re left alone. With nothing more than a constant ticking from the clock on the wall.

What do I do? Oh, no, what do I do?

You rest your heavy head in your hands. You want to claw out your eyes, rip your hair. This can’t be happening. He’s going to put you into the basement for months for this. You have done everything to not end up there again. You’ve acted so well to avoid ending up in there … and now all of that was for nothing. And it hadn’t even been your fault.

The door creaks open and you look up to see the man come in. He closes the door behind him and sit down. In his hands, he holds a yellow file.

“I’m sorry to have to keep you up so late at night”, he apologizes. “But we have to talk to you.”

“What do you want from me?” you ask, voice weak.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Y/N, I just—”

“How do you know my name?”

The older man opened the file and gave you a paper.

“Your family filed you missing a few years ago”, the man says. This is you, isn’t it?”

You didn’t answer. It was you on the photo, but you don’t recognise yourself. It was you, but it isn't you.

My family … I haven’t seen them in years. Not since Silas …

“We’ve been searching for you”, he continues. “And after the rumour that you were kidnapped by Silas Achilleos, we doubled the search for you. He has been very good at keeping your whereabouts hidden. If we weren’t looking for you day and night we wouldn’t even know if you were in his care. It took us years only to confirm that you were, indeed, in his hold.”

“How are they?” you find yourself whisper.

“Your family misses you.”

Your heart breaks. You’d give the world to hold them in your arms again.

“Don’t let them come here”, you mumble. “I don’t want to see them.”

The man seems surprised.

“I thought, after so many years in captivity, you’d want to reunite”, he says.

Yes, yes, I do, so badly.

“I don’t.”

The man doesn’t say anything.

“Can’t you tell me what Silas did to you?” he asks instead. “We just want to help you and make sure he can get what he deserves—”

“Why?” you whisper. “You won’t be able to catch him anyway.”

“You seem to know how hard he is to get … which brings me onto my next point. The ring on your finger, you’re married. To him, am I right?”

You look down at the golden ring on your finger, stomach dropping.

“I think you know why we need to talk to you”, the man says. “You are the closest we can get to Silas, except for Silas himself.”

SIC, then? Don’t they know about SIC?

“I don’t know anything”, you say shortly.

“You don’t have to be worried”, the cop says. “You can speak freely with me.”

You give him a look.

“Listen, Y/N”, he says. “We know that you’ve been through some horrible things, and we want to help you, but to do that you need to work with us. You need to tell me what happened, what he did to you.”

You don’t want to think about it. The man waits for you to say something, but sighs.

“Okay, we don’t have to talk about that yet”, he says. “Can’t you tell me something else?”

“What?”

“Has Silas ever told you something about his enemies or shown you where he hides his things?”

“No.”

“Nothing?”

You sight back a heavy sigh. “No.”

“Nothing at all? Are you sure?’

“Yes, I'm fucking sure.”

“No need to become defensive, I just want to help you.”

Help. Help. Help. Help. When did that word lose meaning?

“I know nothing”, you sigh. “Absolutely nothing and the further you press me on information I don't have, the dumber you look.”

“You must know something, with the amount of time you spend with him.”

You hide your face in your hands. “I know that he's Silas, but you do too, so that won't bring you anywhere.”

The cop doesn't seem too pleased with you. He had hoped to pull something out of you.

“Well, I suppose we're all tired”, he says. “How about you sleep on it and we'll meet again tomorrow?”

You don't answer. Instead, you're led to a small cell and left there with nothing more than a bed. If you are innocent, why are you kept like a criminal?

You sink down on the bed. Why did Silas have to take you? Why did he have to ruin your life? All for selfish reasons?

No one bothers you for the rest of the night, but you’re not sure if the silence is better.

“Boss��”

His head is missed by centimeters. SIC looks tot he side, seeing the whiskey drop down the wall, the glass shards on the floor.

“Not a single word from you”, Silas mutters from the desk he hasn’t left all night, voice enough to kill.

SIC stands quiet, embarrassed. He watches Silas hover over a newspaper, drunker than a sailor.

“Look how quick they are”, he mutters. “Already writing about what’s mine as if they were some kind of charity event. Look.” He sends the newspaper over the table. “Look at what bullshit they’re writing about them!”

SIC glances down. In bold, black letters, he sees the headline “Infamous mob boss’s spouse in police custody”.

“Writing about them like they’re some kind of criminal”, Silas spits. “Disgusting creatures, I should kill all of them.”

“For the moment, I don’t think you should be doing anything at all”, SIC says. “Not until you’ve sobered up—”

Another glass is launched at him, and if he didn’t duck it’d hit.

“Do not fucking tell me what I should and should not do!” he shouts. “You can boss me around when your spouse is on the national news for everyone to see! Everyone can see this! Everyone will be interested! My enemies will go to kidnap them right away!”

“Then we do it before them.”

Silas groans and lifts his head. “That might be the best thing you’ve said all morning.”

“Do you think they’ve said anything?” SIC asks.

“About what? They don’t know anything.”

“Of what happens … down there, I mean.”

Silas seems to sober up.

“They wouldn’t dare.”

"Let's try this again", the cop says.

You want to smash your head into the table under you until you bleed out. Four days have gone by. You hate the little room they’ve spent hours interrogating you in, but you hate the cell even more. The almost unnoticeable flickering light makes your head pound in pain. You've cried more than you've done in a long time, and funnily enough because of the same man—only opposite reasons. You haven’t been away from Silas this long before, and you know that the longer you’re away from him, the worse it’ll be when you return. You have accepted the person you’ve become in Silas’s hold, and now that you're not wit him, you don’t know who you are … or who you will be once Silas finds you again. Because he will, you know that. He will find you again.

You look at the cops again and groan. They’ve been asking you the same questions—what does Silas do? Who is in his most inner circle? Why did he take you? What do you have that could be beneficial to the police?—and still refuse to listen when you say that you don’t know, still refuse to listen to you. Because who wouldn’t think that you were lying? Someone married to someone like Silas should know information, shouldn’t they? You find yourself thinking if this was the plan all along, to deprive you of information to make sure that you wouldn’t be able to tattletail if you got caught?

"Let me go back to him", you beg, for what feels like the hundredth time, with your head in your hands. "This is a waste of time!”

"You don't have to be afraid anymore, you're safe", the other cop says—the idiot still without a clue. "We will keep you safe. You can tell us what happened now."

They really don’t understand, do they?

"I want Silas. I don't want to talk to you!"

To your surprise, being away from him for the first time has given you the time to miss him. When you were with him, he was always there, always around, always messing with your head to the point that you didn’t know what you thought about him. But now that you’re away from him, and actually think of him from an outside perspective, you miss him unbelievably much. You’ve been spending too long with him now not to miss him. You frown. That can’t be good, but what is good anymore? Who is good? Who is not? Who are you?

They tell you to trust them, that they’re here to save you, and yet treat you like a criminal. How can they ever believe that you’ll trust them? If you had the information, why would you ever tell it to someone that treats you like an accomplice? What if you wanted to escape from Silas? What if you had wanted the help? Would you have felt safe here?

You suppose that they hope that the gray room will be enough to break you enough to tell them. But you’ve already broken and they still don’t let you be, because you don’t have the information.

You're placed into the "bedroom" for a break where you succumb to your tears. You want nothing more than for Silas to come get you and get you away from these people. If these people are supposed to be “good”, you wanted to go back to the bad side.

The door was unlocked. You flinched back as an officer came into the room, the same as from the first night.

“What do you want?” you asked quickly.

“Let’s talk a little, just you and me”, he says and crouches down in front of you.

You watch him cautiously. The door is closed behind him.

“I know that you are scared”, he says, but doesn’t say it in a comforting or reassuring manner, almost like he wants you to drop the act and stop being difficult. “It’s perfectly understandable. You’ve probably been through more than anyone here can ever imagine.”

“What do you want from me?” you mumble. “Why don’t you let me go?”

“You are a golden opportunity. You might not understand it, but you are the closest we can come to Silas Achilleos without taking him. You are, from what we’ve been told, the most valuable thing in his life, and also the most important to him. He does everything in his power to erase any traces of you, to make sure that no one knows where—or who—you are. And that’s why you’re a golden opportunity. Someone in a position like you should know things that no one else does. You know Silas better than anyone.”

“You’re wrong”, you say.

He raises his eyebrows. “How come?”

“He has another”, you say. “Someone that has known him longer than I have.”

“Oh, yes, that one. I have heard about him. There’s next to none information about him. Some don’t even believe that he exists, but we saw him at Silas house.”

“I don’t know anything”, you try, yet again.

“You’ve said that—”

“Why don’t you believe me?!”

“Don’t yell. I’m trying to talk to you.”

“You’re trying to pressure me for information I don’t have! I’m useless to you, you took the wrong fucking person! If you wanted to know things, you should have taken SIC!”

“SIC?”

Fuck!

You sigh out and lean your head back against the wall. Maybe this is why Silas didn’t want to tell you anything—you can’t even keep the little information you know.

“Is SIC the ‘mystery man’?” the officer asks.

You don’t answer.

“Y/N, who is SIC?” he pressures you.

“Guess”, you hiss. “You’ve already talked about him, why do you need me to confirm anything?”

“What does SIC know?”

You groan and hit your hands against your head.

“Where can I find this ‘SIC’? Where does he usually roam?”

“Why the fuck are you asking me?!” you shout. “I don’t know anything!”

Finally, he stops asking.

“Everyone here just wants to help you”, he says. “If only you decide to accept the help and work with us, we’ll make sure that you’re safe from Silas. You don’t have to be afraid of saying anything, he won’t be able to reach you for it.”

You scoff.

“You don’t know him”, you mutter and feel your voice die out. “He has—and always will—find me whenever I’m gone. I’ve tried before. Multiple times. I’ve run away, I’ve hid, I’ve prayed and begged. I tried to go under another name and move away. He always finds me. I’ve given up, don’t you understand that? I know that the more I fight against him, the worse it’ll be for me in the end, because word will get back to him—and so will I. I don’t have the energy to it anymore. I just want to be left alone.”

The officer listens closely.

“Don’t you get that you could have your life back?” he asks. “With our help?”

“You’re so stupid—all of you. You don’t understand. I can’t get rid of him. I never will.”

You hug your knees close to your chest and refuse to answer anymore questions. The officer leaves a few minutes later, understanding that you’re not going to talk to him anymore.

You think of Silas, thinking of everything he’s done to you, and everything he’s done for you. It’s a storm of messy memories that sends waves of unexplainable emotions over you. You find yourself missing your bed.

You must have zoned out, because you're suddenly brought back to life by gunshots. Your heart skips a beat. You know only one man that gives an entrance like that. You run over to the door and bang on it with your fists, shouting for him, hoping that he's going to hear you.

“Silas!” you shout at the top of your lunges and slam your fists against the hard surface. “I’m in here!”

Your hands will bruise from the force, but you can’t be left here, can’t stand to be in this room a second longer. You hear a gunshot closer to you, and see the door swing open, its lock smoking. SIC stands out in the corridor with a gun in his hand. He gives you a quick look, as if to check that it is you before turning his head.

“Silas!” he shouts. “Here!”

It doesn’t take more than a few seconds before he comes running down the corridor. He threw himself into the room and embraced you in his arms.

“Oh, my god, my Y/N”, he breathes out and hugs you tightly, feeling his hands over your body, as if to reassure himself that you are real. “Are you okay? Did they hurt you?”

You try to open your mouth and form an answer, but you're unable to. Your voice isn’t there, and only a choking sound comes out of you. He cups your cheeks.

“You can just nod or shake your head”, he reminds you.

You nod. You have no physical wounds, but you're undoubtedly hurt. Silas sighs and kisses your forehead.

“I didn't kill them for nothing then”, he mutters and studies your face. “Little thing, oh fuck, what have they done to you?”

“I didn't say anything”, you reassure him with a strained voice. “Nothing, I-I promise.”

“That’s my good baby, I know you haven't”, he reassured quickly, caressing your face. “What could you possibly have said? I made sure you wouldn't know anything I did.”

“Not about that, either …”

He clenches his jaw and nods shortly. “I see. We'll talk more about it later, we have to get away before other police patrols arrive I can't bear to see you in jail.”

I can't bear to be in jail. What the fuck did I do?

He removes his coat and hangs it around your shoulders, wrapping it shut to make sure that you're warm enough. He gives SIC a look, nodding at him to move out of the way. You're not sure what you're going to see once you exit the room, but knowing Silas, it won't be pretty. He walks beside you, keeping an arm wrapped around your neck, the same hand held over your eyes. The smell of blood is still there, grotesque and strong.

“Fucking idiots”, you hear SIC mutter behind you. “They’ve written my name on the white board!”

Silas chuckles breathlessly, but there’s too much stress in his voice to be fully genuine.

“They’ve spelled it wrong”, SIC says and you hear him popping open a marker. “S-I-C. Not a fucking ‘K’. I’m not sick.”

“Was it you who told them about SIC, little thing?” you hear Silas ask closely to your ear, his hot breath fanning your ear.

“I-I’m sorry, I accidentally mentioned him”, you mumble embarrassedly, visions of the basement flashing before you. “I didn’t say anything about him.”

“Nothing else?”

“No, I promise, Silas. I promise, please—”

“Okay, I believe you. Let’s get out of here, I’m sick of looking at these disgusting creatures. I want to go home and be with my baby who I haven’t seen for four days,”

“I hate them”, you whisper. “I hate them all.”

“They hurt you and I will never forgive them for that, but don’t worry I’ve already made sure they’ve paid for it. But you won’t see that.”

“I can smell it.”

“That’s enough.”

He removes his hands as soon as you get out into the open air. Your knees buckle and he’s quick to catch you.

“These fucking people, eh”, he grits out. “Hurting such an innocent thing. They should be ashamed of themselves.”

“Can’t trust anyone, nowadays”, SIC says and opens the car door, allowing Silas to help you in the backseat.

Silas sits down beside you. He wraps his arms around you, bringing you close. His normally suffocating presence a big contrast to the coldness you’ve felt the past four days.

“Your pretty hands …”, he pouts and caresses the hands that had been banging at the door with all their might. “I don’t ever want to see you hurt yourself again. Even if you did it to catch my attention. Never again, you hear?”

You nod.

“What did they do to you?” he asks worriedly.

“They tried to pressure me eon information I didn’t have …”, you whisper. “I couldn’t answer them. I didn’t know, btu they … didn’t care. They kept pressuring me. I thought my head was going to explode. A-And when I accidentally relieved something—a little—they were on me like snakes, forcing me to say more. I thought that they would think I was involved. I felt like I couldn’t breathe.”

Silas clenches his jaw. He wishes that he could go back and kill them again, this time do it even worse.

“I’m so tired, Silas”, you mumble.

“I know, baby, I know”, he coos sweetly. “I hate to see you like this. Seems like the only time you’re safe is when I’m with you. Sleep on my shoulder, little thing. I will take care of you, and when you wake up you will be safe and sound in the bed where you belong.”

The thought warms, for once. You shut your eyes and allow yourself to fall asleep, waking up in a bed softer than the one in the police station. You don’t have to open your eyes to know that you’ve been carried up to your shared bedroom. You open your eyes slightly. Silas is lying beside you, dressed in lounge wear. He looks straight at you with his dark eyes. His hand caresses your cheek.

“Slept well?” he asks softly.

You nod. Better than the last four days.

“I’m so relieved to have you back in my arms”, he says and pulls you back into his embrace. “And the fucker that dares to steal you away from me next time will have their eyes pulled out of their sockets. You belong to me, and me only. And no fucking cop, or criminal, or anyone else, will ever get to put their greasy hands on my baby.”

He cups your cheeks.

“Ironic, isn’t it?” he scoffs. “All I wanted that night they took you from me was to have you to myself, but the only time I get to have you all for myself is after you’ve been kidnapped and we've both been through Hell. If only I could get to have you without that happening as well, huh? All to myself.”

His words have always been frightening you, given you a stone in your stomach … but for the first time, they don't. You're not sure what it is, and you're not sure if you're afraid of not being afraid of it. If the cops did that to you, then you’re unsure you ever want to go back.

Those cops had no idea that they’d do more harm than good. You’re deeper in his claws than ever.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #yandere drabbles #yandere oc x you #yandere mafia #yandere oc x reader #yandere oc

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theereina · 5 months ago

Text

Big Mama Pt. 4

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Plus Size Fem Black!OC

Wordcount: +3.9K

Warnings: MDNI (18+) mature content, such as cursing, teasing, heavily dialogue-centered, use of Daddy, Mama, and other pet names (lil' mama, pretty girl, good boy, etc.), fluff, P in V, oral (female receiving), spanking, Dom!Terry *if you squint*

A/N: I don't know how many parts there will be. However, I'm open to critiques. I am a little 🤏🏽 sensitive about my writing. Please, don't be too harsh.🥺 Feel free to bring my attention to any typos. Divider by @firefly-graphics. Also, this work is not to be plagiarized or reposted (on any site other than here on Tumblr). I do NOT give consent for any form of republishing or rewriting.

Big Mama Pt. 1 => 🦋

Big Mama Pt. 2 => 🦋

Big Mama Pt. 3 => 🦋

knock knock knock

I rolled over in Terry's bed to find his side empty. I leaned up from the comfort of his pillows and sat quietly for a minute as a quick form of meditation. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. My body felt a little restless. I yawned while stretching my arms and legs. I could hear voices coming from the front room. Lifting the covers from my legs, I slid out of the bed. I walked towards the bathroom. As I walked in I noticed multiple hygiene products, towels, and a fresh set of clothes had been left out.

Terry had to be one of the most thoughtful men I had ever met. It was the little things that added up for me when it came to him. His ability to effortlessly indulge in my humor— his ability to stimulate my mind and body in the most exhilarating ways, his dominant yet caring demeanor, his small gestures of kindness and consideration, etc. I was in awe of everything about him.

Last night, we talked and talked. Some conversations were harder than others, but certain moments made the night feel like taking a deep breath. Terry's aura was so refreshing and calming. I had never expected that level of vulnerability from him. He was open and honest, and every question I asked was answered. What would have been another night of me crying and drinking my pain away turned into a comforting moment with a — “friend”. Even though I did most of the talking, we shared personal stories and even talked about our dreams. It was as if we were both coming undone the more we talked— layer by layer.

Finishing up in the bathroom, I cleaned up my mess and placed my used towels in his laundry hamper. I walked out of the bathroom and returned to the bed. As I stood there, my impulsive thoughts got the best of me. I needed to make the bed—not because I slept in it but because I had to show my “value and worth.” I hated that my mother instilled those kinds of values into me. I always felt like I had to please people to be worthy.

As I was fluffing the pillows, the bedroom door opened. “Havana,” Terry whispered while entering the bedroom. “Yes?” I said turning to face him. I was standing near the bottom of the bed. “Glad you're awake. I made breakf—. Hey, you didn't have to make the bed,” he said walking up to me. “I know. It just seemed like the right thing to do as a thank you for last night,” I said smiling up at him. “Yeah, I think both of us needed last night. Thank you, mama,” he said kissing my forehead.

Terry reached out and grabbed my hand. He positioned himself behind me to lead me out of the room. “You rushing me out?” I giggled. Upon entering the front room, I could hear Terry sigh deeply. His hand felt warm to the touch and slightly damp. I could feel Terry’s chest rising against my back and hear every breath he took. Was Terry— nervous?

As he pulled me into the kitchen, I saw it. There wasn't only breakfast set up but a large bouquet of red roses resting on the island. I tried to stop walking. Terry gently nudged me the rest of the way. He leaned over me and grabbed the roses from the counter. I turned to face him with teary eyes. I couldn't believe it. I was honestly shocked by this gesture.

“I know you said a relationship wasn't on the table, but just hear me out. Ok?” Terry lulled while handing me the flowers. “Terry,” I whined. He leaned over and kissed my lips. “Ma, I really do like you. Last night, we talked about things I hadn't in years. Things I hadn't been able to say. Somehow, I was able to share that wit’ you. ‘Vana, I know you ignored me because you were scared. I'm okay with being patient, but I need somethin’. Whether that's a relationship in the future or a friendship now. I like you, and I want you, Havana,” Terry said assertively. His face was serious yet soft. “Terry, I would love to, but I feel like… like… Shit! I don't know anymore,” I mumbled, looking down at the floor. “Is it the fact that you still feel like we don't know each other?” Terry asked holding my chin. “Yeah, it scares me. What if—,” I started. “What if we go on a date, tonight?” he asked with pleading eyes. “Terry, I…,” I said trying to find suitable words. “Havana?” Terry said holding my hands in his. I looked down and watched as he used his thumbs to stroke the back of my hands.

“Fine. Yes, I’ll go on a date with you,” I said looking up at him. “Thank you, mama. It wasn't like you had much of an option anyway,” he said kissing me on the forehead. “See, this is why I can’t be nice to you!” I yelled hitting him in the chest.

*Later that night

“Do you like the food?” Terry asked while glaring at me. “No,” I said smiling while taking another bite of salmon. “Funny,” Terry responded smugly. I looked up and winked at him. His eyes had darkened slightly, allowing the hazel in his eyes to overshadow the usual green. The small flame of the candle at the center of the table flickered and intensified the goldish hues. They were captivating and low, almost hypnotizing. The last time his eyes looked like that we were—. I leaned up and cleared my throat. I sat up straight crossing my legs as best as I could under the table.

The restaurant was gorgeous. The dark ambiance added to the sexiness of the aura. The glass ceiling provided a marvelous view of the night sky. This— this was all I wanted. I wanted to be treated to nice dates without being the one to ask or plan. Fuck. This man was making it hard for me.

“You good?” I asked trying to break whatever this stare was. “Yes. How are you, mama?” he asked leaning over and resting his chin on his left palm. The look he was giving me only intensified with his movements. I shifted my body so that I was leaning on my hip. “Of course. Thank you, again. I’m sorry if I made things difficult,” I said placing my hands in my lap. I dropped my head. “No, ma’am. Eyes up here,” he said leaning over the table and gently nudging my chin.

He sat back down and placed his hands on the table with his palms upward. He nodded his head, motioning for me to put my hands in his. I raised my hands and placed them on top of his. The warmth of his hands was soothing to the touch. His fingers began slowly caressing the back of my hands. I was captivated by the tenderness of the way he touched me, as if every brush of his skin against mine was an unspoken display of affection. The strength in his hands was diminished by the way his fingers graced over mine. His fingers were light as feathers, and his touch seemed unreal. The world around us was moving at its own pace while we were locked into each other's eyes. Our gazes grew lustful by the second. I squeezed his hands gently and allowed him to continue his movements.

I knew where this was going.

“Okay, no more wine. I'm done,” I said pulling away and finishing my third glass of a Riesling white wine. “Yeah, I agree. If I drink any more of this Hennessy, I’m gonna be a problem,” he says finishing his fourth drink of the night. “I’m just glad we didn't drive,” I said sitting with my hands in my lap. “Same. If you're finished, we can leave now. No rush though, baby girl. It’s all on you,” Terry said smirking. That smirk had something hidden behind it. “What?” I asked. He paused for a moment before continuing. “Can you do something for me?” he asked softly while slightly leaning across the table. “Yes. And, what are you up to?” I asked sitting at attention. This man had me on high alert.

“First, my place or yours?” he asked glaring at me again. “Mine, and stop looking at me like that,” I said feeling hot. My body was sweltering. The middle of my thighs had to feel like a pool of honey— warm and sticky. My panties were ruined and all he had done was look at me. “When we get there remember this moment, okay?” he lulled. “Why?” I asked confused. The way he was speaking to me had me on edge. Every word sounded sweeter than the last. “’Cause when we get there, I'm gonna fuck you like I hate you. Like I've been holding a grudge against you and fuckin’ you is the release. I don't think you understand how bad I need you, baby girl. I just want you to know that. Understood?” “Y…yes,” I whimpered as a moan slipped from my lips. I was squirming in my seat at this point. “That’s not how you answer me,” he grunted. “Sorry. Yes, Daddy,” I said while rubbing my legs together. “That’s better, but you can show me how sorry you are when we get home,” he said leaning back into his seat.

*Later, back at Havana’s home

“I’m sor… I’m sorry, Daddy. Please, can I cum?” I whined. I wanted to touch him so badly, but he had tied my hands up using his suit tie. “I don't remember telling you to speak,” Terry said removing his fingers from my pussy and stuffing them in my mouth. I moaned around his fingers. “Shut the fuck up and suck,” he said pushing his middle and index fingers into my mouth. He was positioned on his knees between my legs. My back was arching off the bed.

He had already stripped me completely naked before we started, but he had chosen to remain shirtless with his pants unbuttoned and belt undone. His chest rose and fell rapidly. Sweat was dripping down his chest in between his pecs and down his abs. He went back down again and dove face-first into my pussy. This time he used his mouth to cover my clit and sucked. His tongue flicked the underside of my clit vigorously. I was suffering under his touch— weak and desperate for any form of release.

I felt that feeling again. I was about to come, but I was too afraid to acknowledge it. The pit of my belly grew tight, and my mouth slackened around his fingers as he held them between my lips. “Uh oh, what’s that? Baby girl, you wanna come?” he asked leaning up while removing his fingers. He placed his fingers back inside my pussy and curled them upward. The moan I released was laced with pure desperation. “Yes, Daddy. Please!” I begged through fresh tears. This would have been his fourth time denying me an orgasm.

He slowly leaned over me. His chest hovering over mine. His left hand pushed down on the bed right by my ear. He was holding himself up so that he could look me directly in the eyes. “Eyes on me. If you look anywhere else; I'll stop, and we gone start the fuck over. I don't give a damn how close you are. Your eyes stay open and focused, ” he leaned over and whispered into my right ear. His lips were so close that I could feel his breath on my skin. “Please!” I begged again. “You better let me have all of it. Now, let's go!” Terry said pushing his fingers deeper inside me.

Every touch and plunge felt like I was on fire. His fingers produced an ache only he could relieve. In and out, in and out. He was pulling my orgasm from me by making a come here motion while inside. My abdomen locked, and I felt it coming. I wanted to look down so badly; however, I knew Terry would follow through with his threat.

My eyes remained locked on his. His mouth turned into a permanent smirk. His fingers were unyielding to the pain in my belly. “Let go, ‘Vana. Give me what the fuck I want,” he growled into my ear. His fingers relentlessly worked against the walls of my pussy. The tips of his fingers glided against my G-spot over and over again. The pressure was building, and I was suffering through it.

“Mmm,” I whined. The euphoria I was feeling made words inaccessible and futile. “You got one minute to cum or this little party is over, Mama. Better yet, fuck that. Maybe you need a little help,” he said dragging his fingers out of me, leaving my pussy clenching around nothing. I was spent as exhaustion coursed through my body.

Terry sat on his knees and grabbed both of my legs by the ankles. He peppered each ankle with feather-like kisses. “It's okay, Mama. Daddy's gonna get it. Just remember to breathe,” he smirked as he lifted me, placing me closer to the center of the bed. “Daddy!” I moaned out in disappointment. His eyes shot up to meet mine. “Shut that shit up! I don't wanna fuckin' hear it. You had your moment. Now, it's my turn!” he said standing up and pushing his pants and briefs to the floor. He stepped out of them and got back between my legs on the bed. His dick sprang up and bounced in the air.

He placed his hands on the tie around my hand and undid the knot. Finally, my hands were free. I wiggled my wrists in joy. “I wouldn't get too happy if I were you. You weren't exactly a good girl, Mama. Daddy's gotta do something about that. Don't I?” he asked holding the tie in his hands. He leaned over and grabbed the condom from the bed, ripping it open with his teeth. He glided it on effortlessly— a trained fuckin’ professional. He slid his hand through the slickness between my legs. He placed his hand on his covered dick and began to stroke himself.

“I… I don't know what happened. I tried. I swear it was…,” I said before he pushed the tie into my mouth. “Shh… It's okay, princess. Daddy's gonna fix that,” he grabbed my legs and flipped me over. He pulled me back so that his hard dick was now sitting right on my ass. I was tempted to grind on it, but I didn't want any more problems than I already had.

He spread my legs and pushed my head down. “So, we did all of that work for you not to come, huh? Alright, that's fine. You tellin’ me Daddy not doin’ enough? Is that what you sayin’?” he pressed his thighs against my body and pushed my ass further into the air.

smack

That was the first one right across my left ass cheek. I put my arm behind me and broke my arch. He leaned over me and snatched the tie from my mouth. He pushed me down using his body weight. Of course, he would tie my hands up again. “Lessons are learned through punishment,” he said holding my bound hands in one of his and using his free hand to rub my right ass cheek.

smack

I let out the most lewdest moan ever. The pain from each smack was met with the sweet aftertaste of pleasure. I yelped in between each sob. I wanted him to do it again. “More, Daddy. I deserve to be punished,” I begged. “Daddy's nasty whore wants more? Oh, you wanna be the perfect slut fa’ me, huh?!” he says rubbing his hand all over both of my ass cheeks. I nodded my head yes. It's as if I could feel him smiling.

“Remember, you asked for it!” he asserted.

smack

He let each hit rain down on me like fire. I was feeling it now. Both cheeks ached and throbbed. I tried to lay flat on the bed. “Where the fuck you think you going’, huh?” Terry said through gritted teeth. “I'm not done with you yet. You wanna be a slut for Daddy, right? Ass up, face down. You better not move, or I swear. I fuckin' dare you!” he said squeezing my ass cheeks as a reminder.

Without warning, he slid himself into my wet pussy. This was the first time Terry had me in the doggy-style position. His dick felt unreal against my walls. He felt both thicker and longer in this position. He corrected my arch to the point that it was painful and pressed his hand on my lower back to keep me there.

He slammed into me and pulled all the way out to the tip. Oh, God. I was well aware of what he was doing. He slammed into me again. Each time pulling out until his tip was all that was left inside me. He was forcing my pussy to feel and take every inch with every thrust. I felt him dip his hips upward and quicken his pace. His strokes never weakened.

He let go of my wrists to grab my hips. He was pulling me back onto his dick. I could feel the pulse his dick made inside me. I clenched my pussy around him. He yanked me back against him and began pounding my pussy mercilessly.

I instantly became a sobbing mess. “You ain't got shit to say now, huh?” he asked. His hips snapped against my ass with so much force that the sound reverberated off of my bedroom walls. “Take it, Mama. This my pussy, right?” he asked thrusting upward again. His hips were moving at the speed of light. My mouth hung open though no words could come out. “Mmhmm…” I moaned into the mattress. “Say it. I wanna hear you fuckin' say it!” he growled. “It's yours. Daddy, it's yours. This pussy is… ugh… it's all yours. Take…it…from…me,” I said slumping my head back into the mattress.

“Nah… I gotta prove it,” Terry said leaning over me. He placed his right hand on the front of my throat and secured his left hand through my arms behind my back. He yanked me upward. His chest was now against my back. He continued to punish my pussy. He leaned close and began to grunt in my ear. “Ugh, come on. Let's go, Mama. This my pussy, right?” he said kissing my neck. His hips just would not stop. The way he was doggin’ my pussy out had me gone. He pushed me back down on the bed and slid right back inside me. “Fuck, princess!” Terry moaned throwing his head back. He pushed my arch back into position again. Ass in the air, face in the mattress.

He pulled one of his knees up so that he was kneeling on the bed and began to thrust into me again. Terry wasn't giving me a breather, just straight fucking. I started to throw my ass back to match his rhythm. He grabbed my hips to steady his pace. His dick was kissing my cervix at this point. “Ya’ know what's funny…,” Terry laughed. “You said you could beat me on your knees. Well, you're on your knees right now. What's wrong?” he said taunting me. “Fuck you,” I whimpered.

BIG MISTAKE!

Without a word of acknowledgment, Terry started fucking me even harder. It was as if I had unlocked a monster. He pressed his hands into my back and wrapped them around my hips. He forced me to slam back into him. Every thrust was fucking me up, and I couldn't care less. This was what Big Mama needed.

I was keeping up with him, but every time I felt like we were equally matched; he'd started to fuck me harder or faster. “I'm sorry! Shit!” I moaned out with my face turned away from the mattress. “Fuck that! You said fuck me, right?!” he grabbed a handful of my hair from the roots. “Nah, talk shit now!” he grunted. He slowed his pace and began to slowly grind inside of me with deep hard thrusts.

Without warning, I started leaking all over Terry. My orgasm started to surge through my body. I tried my best to breathe, but Terry just kept fucking me through it. I couldn't focus on breathing— all I could focus on was coming and taking dick. Fuck it. If I died, I died.

I could feel Terry’s hips tighten. His strokes were still not getting sloppy. He was close, but not on edge. He kept thrusting into me. His hips were snapping against my ass hard enough that I expected to see a bruise. The grip he held on my hair slackened and he held onto my hips again. His strokes slowed but remained deep. I clenched my pussy around his dick hoping to help him get closer. “Ah, fuck. That's it, mama. Daddy's close. Stay just like this,” he said stirring my insides. “You gone be a good girl, fa’ me? Huh?” he asked biting his bottom lip. “Yes!” I screamed. His dick started pulsing inside of me. The throb of him caused my pussy to grip around him. “Here it comes, argh. Ugh! Shit! Fuck, Mama!” he said throwing his head back, slamming into me two more times. Holding each thrust deep, I could feel his nut fill the condom.

He held my hips until he came down fully. He pulled out of me and stepped off the bed. He looked down at the condom that was now loaded with his semen. “I hate I couldn't nut in you. It feels like such a waste, ‘Vana,” he said untying the knot that bound my wrists together. He removed the condom and walked towards the bathroom. “Terry, I told you—,” I started to say. “I know, Mama. I respect it. That's why I didn't fuss!” he yelled back into the room. “Thank you!” I yelled back at him. “But that's why we're both getting tested. I know it don't matter now, but I can't keep this up!” he yelled back. “Yeah, we really suck at keeping our mouths off of each other!” I laughed as I lay on my back. I gazed at the ceiling as I waited for Terry to return.

This man had singlehandedly given me the best dick I had ever had two times in a row. Each time exceeding the last. At this point, how could it get any better than this?

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ayrtonswnna · 6 months ago

Text

ʚɞ "can you bring my girlfriend?" OP81

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⋮ angst, hurt/comfort, fluff. word count: 1,7k

✧₊⁺ oscar piastri x carina duquez (female!oc)

summary: when oscar feels too much, but he'll always have his girlfriend to share life.

warnings: autor with an addiction to angst writing, mentions of a panic/anxiety attack, soft!oscar for the win, lando norris as a special guest.

Oscar feels overwhelmed.

Bahrain gets the hottest track of the year, a hard race to say the least. It feels like there's too much going on, almost like the McLaren driver could sense his skin burning even out of the car.

He usually holds good control over himself; a very disciplined athlete, he heard every call on the radio and hydrated just as much as he could, but the fuzzy feeling won't leave him.

Seeing bright and blind sparks where his vision should be, an anxiety wave crashing in his chest as he stumbles inside the papaya box.

It's not just the heat, being so self-aware makes him sure of that. The medical team follows him inside, just a plain sight, there are people around, but everything seems just too far away. Soaked in sweat and cold water, his heart is beating too fast for him to think clearly.

He needs to get Carina.

Also known as his girlfriend, his baby, his physiologist. Like, legally. Like what she does for a living. Oscar can't be her patient as part of the conduct, but she often helps him out with that kind of stuff, like identifying whether it's physical pain or just anxiety.

"No, I'm okay. I'm okay," the pilot waves his hands as the doctors approach, really focused on keeping his breath regular. "Can you just get my girlfriend? She's somewhere in the VIP. I really need her right now."

"I know you might want some comfort right now, but I need to check you right away."

"You can! Just bring my girlfriend. Can you bring my girlfriend?" As soon as he understood that the man in front of him wasn't going to move, he asked someone in the back. "She'll be here in seconds. I'll let you touch me as soon as she says I'm okay."

Yeah, the doctor is right. Oscar just wants some comfort right now. Carina, besides being very good at what she does for a living, is also an incredibly amazing girlfriend. Her powers go beyond what she studied for.

And heaven seems to be on their side today. One of the guys on the medical team heads out of the room, and Oscar just tries to breathe slowly and deeply.

Carina is there, body almost hanging on the half-wall of the accommodation, trying to get any sign of what's going on inside the papaya garage. Usually, he would wave to her every time he left the car, and that didn't happen today. She felt a sharp pain in her chest, worrying if something had happened.

She's right, somehow. Somebody dressed in McLaren's staff uniform came for her with a pass for the boxes zone and a calming voice, telling her not to worry, that Oscar is okay and just requested her presence.

But, well... Carina knows the boyfriend she got herself. There are not many people who can get into his sensitive space, and if she's being called, there is something sensitive happening. The Aussie girl flew down the access stairs and followed the woman into the light-weighted door, a few seconds until she could see Oscar's red face resting up, the back of his head against the wall, and his body curled up together.

"Hey, Osc." She uses her softest tone, leaving her purse and phone on the closest surface as she approaches. "Pretty hot track, huh?"

Easy to guess. In the past few months, all this F1 pressure started kicking in, the perks of driving a rocketship with such ability, being this much of a promise brought some other stuff to the table.

"Yeah." He muttered, eyes closed, face red. "Am I fine? I can't really feel my face or my hands... Whatever. I can't feel much. Am I okay?"

It'd be funny in some other situation. Oscar does look like a serious guy, like someone too calm and put-together. He tries very hard to be. But sometimes, just like everyone else, he wants someone with answers.

Someone else to think for him, to figure out why everything feels so tangled up.

"Fine as always." Carina keeps her voice low, the good kind of lie. He just needed to feel like he's in control. "Your face is just bloody red, but you know I really find you the cutest when you're like this."

"Stop it." A shy little laugh leaves the Aussie's lips, really less worried as she zips his fireproof down and reaches the sides of his neck, rubbing her cold hands. "Hmm... That feels good."

"Yeah? You're just overheated, okay? Can the doctors check you out? We just need to make sure you're okay."

"Yeah- Yeah, of course. You'll stay here, right? Don't leave, please."

"I'll never leave you. Let's just get checked, and then you'll head home."

So Oscar finally feels comfortable enough to let the other people in the room touch him. Carina stays by his side, even talks to the doctors, and fixes his hair sometimes.

"Ice tub, shower, and then you can head home, Oscar. You were great today." The last person on the medical team finishes cleaning up, standing up before waving a last goodbye and leaving the room.

"Do you still need me here? I can wait for you outside." Carina says softly, tucking his overgrown hair behind his ears. "Take your shower, and I'll get the car, okay?"

"Of course not," he whispers. "can't you stay?"

That's what she does. They follow each other down the corridors in the McLaren facility to where the drivers actually go post-race. A tub of cold water awaits, and Oscar takes seconds before diving in, their last moments by themselves.

"C'mon, Osc! Can't believe the heat got the best of you!" Lando shows up from the front of the garage, towel around his neck as he tries to keep the humor up. "You're okay? Did you get checked?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just got checked." He's still with his eyes closed, someone from the staff pouring one more ice bag into his tub. "It was a whole lot."

"It was, man. It is too hot around here, and the track is even worse. I thought the car was overheating!" Lando agrees. "And hey, Carina! The best medicine is love, huh? That's what they always say."

Oscar can't understand what is happening to him. He's a chill guy, always so calm and down to earth. How come the tug in his chest hits like a hammer sometimes?

It's hard to breathe, to think, and for the first time in forever... To be quiet. He tried hiding in the bathroom, tried showering. Nothing could put the feeling away, and he already felt like a burden. Carina shouldn't be fixing his mind every time something happens. His mind keeps telling him he's supposed to hold himself together.

But it's still too hard, too much.

She's sleeping. After they went back home and after everything cooled down, literally, she was still the one to order their dinner, set the bedroom, and check on him until he fell asleep on her chest. Now he is hiding in the bathroom, making sure she has time to rest.

"Baby? Are you alright? I miss you in bed; you left a while ago."

Damn, he could swear he was slick enough for her not to notice he left.

But she does, she always does. The details are some of her best qualities.

"Uh-hum. I'll be back." His hands shake, touching his own face and trying to dry the tears.

"It's cool, don't worry. Would you mind... opening the door for me? You're locked in."

Carina is good at this, she's a pro. Oscar knows she'll be the best psychologist once she finishes college just by the way she treats people around her, but mostly him.

She makes him feel comfortable before ever going to the point. He doesn't even notice she's doing it.

Still, he doesn't want to cry in front of her anymore, at least not today.

"Osc? Look, you don't need to talk or anything, I just don't want you to be alone. Because you're not."

He could swear that's procedure, although it isn't. She's just being his caring girlfriend, the one he's had ever since middle school.

"I know." The only two words he manages to say. "I'll be back, promise."

"Would you like... would you like me to be inside with you? Or would you rather spend a few more minutes alone? I can come back and check on you in ten minutes."

That could be funny. Carina sometimes uses this positive discipline thing to get in control, and being conditioned really puts Oscar's mind in place.

Her company could be good. He doesn't overthink when he's around her.

And ten minutes can feel like an eternity. So the door gets unlocked, and he steps back.

"Hey, baby..." That's when he melts completely, face hiding in the crook of Carina's neck, arms around her, and sobs a bit too loud.

She just wishes he was smaller so she could hold him fully.

"What the fuck is going on, Rina? I don't understand! Why am I like this? That's not me!" he cries. "Everything feels so different, and I just want this feeling to go away!"

"I know, baby. I know. Things are changing. You're onto big things, big results, consistency... And you're also a public figure. You're facing new things."

"And why can't I just be like Lando? Or Lewis? Or Charles? They make it all look so easy! I just... I just want to be like everyone else!"

"Oh, so you think your friends haven't felt that way? When they went through the same? I mean... Lewis is old enough to be your father so... It's been a long time." Yeah, the humor and the way she runs her fingers through his spine. It all makes the feeling sink down. "Ask Lando, or whoever. I'm sure they faced what you're facing right now. Last year you were a rookie and now you're winning races!"

Not another word in the conversation; only Oscar's body getting heavy and the sobs becoming softer and softer. Carina has no idea how much he has slept.

"You're amazing, Osc. We will get through this, okay?"

"I love you," he whispers. "So, so much... I don't know what I'd do without you."

"You would surely get no sleep. Let's go to bed, wash your face, and go to bed." Her hands travel his back a little more. "I love you too, baby. So, so much."

#lele writes ʚɞ #oscar piastri fanfic #formula 1 #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri #formula one imagine #f1 #f1 angst #f1 imagine #formula 1 angst #formula one #lando norris #oscar piastri angst

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thefaithfulnightwriter · 4 months ago

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𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐊 ~ Chapter Two

Summary - 𝙄𝙣 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝 Azriel's mate is banished to another world by Amarantha. To a world she never knew existed. To a different world called Zenithara. She finds herself being stuck in Zenithara for many years. And as more time passes it leads her to giving up hope to ever get back to her family, her mate. It changes her living in such a world. She never once felt safe in Zenithara. But one day when she is given a mask. She finds herself feeling safe and concealed from the world. It gave her a sense of strength and power. Which leads her to persevere in the new world she was in.

But what will happen when she finds herself being sent back to her old world Prythian, to her home in Velaris? What will happen when she is finally reunited with her family… her mate?

Pairing - Azriel x Female!Oc

Universe - A Court of Thorns and Roses

Warnings - Characters may be a bit OOC, Mature Themes, Gore, Death, Semi Smut, Violence, Language, Weapons, Mention of Past Abuse, Mention of War, Things Will Be Changed, Fluff, Angst, Some Sensitive Subjects, Mating Bonds, Scars, Experimentation, More Will Be Added If Needed.

Disclaimer - I do not own the series ACOTAR. I do own certain characters, and I own my mc. I do own somethings that are made up. I also got some inspiration from some movies and tv shows. So if you see anything familiar. But i own my writing and whatnot you get where im going and what i am saying lol.

Author's Note - i really hope you like this fic. i gotta say this fic is very challenging for me because of the world building around it and what not. but i do love it. i hope you guys do too. that is all i can think to say lol.

─── Zenithara ───

─── G.H.O.S.T Ship ───

Anna was now sitting on a carrier ship that was going back to Sky City. Her team, Alpha team who were mainly led by Evan, surrounded her. Very soft music was playing in the background. To try and keep everyone calm. But also not loud so everyone could stay alert.

But the main thing she heard was soft talking between teammates and clicking of weapons. All were making sure their weapons were charged and loaded. Making sure they were all in the right holsters and secured.

Even after the team successfully retained the load of many innocent people that were kidnapped from Sector One, and were on their way to the Arena. The Arena now resorting to kidnapping people for the Killer games. Being that they were losing people from the Abyss. Well more so the Arena. Being that the justice system was moving and placing criminals elsewhere. Not wanting the Arena or Killer games to continue. Which led G.H.O.S.T. to have to step in and save the people they can.

Right now though Anna’s team was still on guard. Because the mission wasn't over just yet. They still needed to get these people safely back to Sky City. So they could get checked more thoroughly for injuries, and so they could give the justice system their statements on what happened to them.

The people they had saved were currently in med bay. People from Beta team trying to keep them calm, and helping them with any injuries they could. Along with the team mates who had been injured during the mission.

At the moment Anna was observing her surroundings with her now glowing gold eyes. Now being able to see clearly without her glasses, as she used one of her abilities. Her ability of enhanced eyesight. Which when she used such eyesight her eyes always glowed a golden color.

Right now she was watching everything around her on the ship. From behind her mainly golden, black, porcelain colored mask. That covered her whole face. The only thing that could be seen were her eyes. Other than that you couldn't see her face, nothing. Only her eyes.

In Anna's eyes it was a beautiful mask. It was gifted to her by Katrina many years ago when she was still in the Arena. A mask that was very precious to Anna. A mask that she took care of and kept in immaculate shape.

The top had golden and black intricate patterns that flared up slightly at the crown of her head. With amber and golden jewels that dangled on the side. Then at the middle of her head of the mask was an amber jewel.

The golden and black detailed patterns that went from the top of her head then curved under her eyes and over her nose. Around her eyes were black, the only thing that was seen were her eyes. The lower half of her face was covered by porcelain with a pair of golden lips painted on it.

Then around her neck was covered by black cover that had a few golden chains. It held up the mask and some mechanics that were connected to her mask. Her being the only one who knew how to use it. Knowing all the ins and outs of the mask. Having it for many years now.

The mask was one of Anna's prize possessions. Having her mask on was also one of the things she used to cope with everything. Her mask gave her a sense of safety and power. It concealed her from the world. Giving her the strength to persevere in Zenithara.

But most of all it kept her hidden. It hid who she was, hid her scars, her emotions, it hid Anna.

Which was something she loved. She loved to stay hidden. Anna seemed to love it so much that she wore her mask whenever she was around people. The only time she had it off was around Evan and his father. But sometimes it was still hard for her to take it off. The two though knew how to coax it off her and make her feel safe. They were the only two who could.

Though when Anna was alone. Mainly in one of her homes in the three Sectors or her own room, that was the only time she had the mask off. Not feeling safe but somewhat comfortable. It was when she swapped her mask for her glasses. Letting her eyes settle to their normal dark brown. But that rarely happened.

She was accustomed to having her golden gleaming eyes on display. She was accustomed to seeing everything in a more intense and enhanced way.

Though she had her glasses it couldn't compare to having her enhanced sight. And without either she was just blind. Only being able to see a meter in front of her. Which she didn’t like. It made her feel vulnerable, and she couldn’t stand that feeling. That was why she used her enhanced sight so much, most of the time.

But also with that she always has an ear out for anything as well. Having trained her hearing just as much as her eyesight. So, if anything happened she would be prepared in any way. It wasn't really hard with her being a high fae.

Though at one point her pointed ears caused her trouble while in the Arena. Doctors became more curious than ever over her, and wanted to experiment on her when they found her in the Arena. More than any other subject they had. They wanted to find out everything about her, and enhance everything. One of the things it led to was having a piece of her ears cut off. Leaving on the outer shell of her pointed ear to have a crescent type shape cut out.

Even after that inncident she stayed strong, it was hard but she kept going. It didn't deter her. But it did lead to her wanting to train her hearing to be sharper. Just as sharp as her heightened eyesight, when her eyes were glowing. So she could rely on her hearing if anything. Having done such a thing though caused her to have an advantage. With her eyesight and hearing. But also caused her to see and hear the world in a different way.

Just like now. Looking around once again she took everything in. The walls of the ship, the bags, the weapons, and the people talking and whispering. Who were her teammates. There were many who she noticed and recognized but few she didn't.

It caused her to sigh and lean further back into her seat. As she stayed to herself. She didn't want to interact nor be near anyone. Anna just wanted to get this mission over with and help where she could. Then go home. Maybe have a drink then escape into her art work.

When she wasn't on missions she was working on her art. It was another thing she used to cope. Through her art she brought Prythian her old world to Zenithara. She had walls upon walls covered with paintings of her old world, her old life. They were in all three of her houses.

Her favorite house was in Sector Two, Middle ground. She had dedicated the house to everything Night Court, or Velaris. Middle Ground gave her the most inspiration. Reminding her the most of her home Velaris somewhat.

In her house that was in Middle Ground there were murals all over. They were mainly paintings of places in Velaris. Like the mountains that surrounded Velaris, the stars, the House of Wind, the Rainbow, Rita's, and more. But there were also paintings of her family. One wall was dedicated to them. Cassian, Rhysand, Amren, and Morrigan.

Then there was a wall dedicated to one more person, a male. A male that she missed so much. That had a piece of her heart. A piece of her soul. A piece of her that she would never get back. He was someone she desperately wanted to not forget. He was someone so important to her. He was her mate... Azriel.

Over time, over the past fifty something years Anna has forgotten some of her old life, her old world. That was one of the reasons she drew and painted so much, it was so she wouldn't forget. Anna wouldn't say she had the most excellent memory. But she could remember some things. But the one thing or person she remembered the most about was Azriel.

Though there were things she had forgotten like his voice, his scent, the way his touch felt. It caused Anna to cry for days when she realized she had forgotten such things. But the things she could remember out weighted the things she couldn't. She believed it was because she drew him so many times over the years. It was so she could remember and keep the memories alive. To keep his memory alive and with her.

She could mostly remember what he looked like. Things like his tan skin that seemed to glow under the sun. His beautiful large strong black wings upon his back that he would use to fly. His clever shadows that wisped around him. His ebony hair that fell over his eyes. And his eyes.

His beautiful hazel eyes that could show nothing one moment, then another moment be filled with such raw emotions. He could take her breath away with one look. Anna missed those looks. She missed his intense hazel eyes on her. Anna missed Azriel so much. At times she found herself missing him the most.

A sad sigh escaped her lips. As her head and shoulders fell and her eyes closed. As she remembered Azriel. It took everything in Anna to not let her tears fall. To not let her emotions go everywhere and let her powers out. Being they were connected to her emotions.

It took a lot out of Anna this time to steel herself. And Anna noticed it. She noticed that it was becoming harder for her to keep doing such a thing. Because lately Anna... she was tired.

Anna was tired of hiding. She was tired of fighting. She was tired of losing people. She was tired of feeling lost. She was tired of this world. She was tired of it all. But Anna knew she had to keep going. Because she knew that many people would want her to keep going. Azriel, her old family in Prythian, Katrina, Eva, her nephews. Anna knew she had to stay strong.

Anna though didn't know how long she could go on. Because when it came down to it she was exhausted, lost, and alone. Yes, there were parts of Zenithara that were beautiful. And Anna may have or not seen them all. But if she was being honest with herself Anna just didn't care for Zenithara. Not as much as she cares for Prythian. Because even with more than half a century passing with her in this world Zenithara, she still felt so lost, and alone.

Even with Evan and his father. Anna loved her nephews very much and they helped her. But there was only so much they could do. They had their own lives, and unfortunately they would never understand her. Not what she has been through. Not what she is or who she was. No one would understand. But she still loved them for helping her.

Anna was soon shaken from such thoughts when she heard Evan. Catching her attention. She was soon looking at him with her golden eyes. She found him kneeling in front of where she was sitting. His crystal eyes were on her and filled with worry. As he gently placed his fingerless gloved cover hands over hers. He was quick to hold them when she didn't pull away from him.

"Hey. Are you okay?" Evan whispered softly to her. So only she could hear what he was saying. Knowing she could hear him. He didn't want to draw any attention to them. Knowing Anna didn't like the attention on her. He also didn't want her to feel uncomfortable. So he took to speaking low to her, and tried to keep her attention on him.

All Anna could do was take a deep breath and nod slightly. As she looked away from him. She didn't want to tell him her thoughts or problems. She didn't want to push her problems onto him. Nor did she want to burden him with her issues.

"I find that hard to believe. You know you can talk to me right Auntie Goldie?" Evan sighed sadly. Hearing him caused Anna to nod her head again. Which led him to send her a small smile. He wanted her to talk to him but didn't want to push her. So, he did what he and his father do all the time. Let her know they were there for her no matter what.

"Remember I'm always here for you Aunt Anna. No matter what you've got me. And you got dad too. I know it's hard and I don't know what you're going through. Just know you are not alone," he tried to soothe her. She was soon nodding her head as a sigh was heard from her. She then gently leant forward placing her head against his. She really appreciated Evan. He was so optimistic, kind, and caring. It made her smile. But her smile widened behind her mask even more hearing what he said next.

"After this mission, why don't I call up dad and all three of us can head to Middle Ground. We can meet at your place cause I know it's your favorite. Then you can tell us some stories or we can watch some movies or something. Have family time together. Just the three of us," Evan planned. He was soon chuckling with a wide smile. As he watched Anna nod quickly. She had leaned back and clapped her hands together gently to show him her excitement.

He knew that she was smiling by the look in her glowing eyes. That he's learned to read since he was young. He was happy to see she was excited for the plan, also happy he was able to lift her mood a bit. Nodding his head he agreed. Standing up he still had a hold of her gloved covered hand. He was then pulling her to help her get up from the seat.

"Alright it's a plan. I'll call -," Evan started. But he was abruptly cut off. Because soon he and Anna were falling back into the seats. Being jostled by the carrier ship shaking. It was as if something had hit the ship.

Which led everyone to be on guard and alert. Making themselves prepared for anything. Knowing it could be an attack. Evan was quick to grab the radio on his shoulder. Demanding the pilot to tell him what was going on. Asking if the ship was hit or if there was an attack.

"No attack. It seems we have been hit by something, sir. But umm... there is something we think you should see. We're not sure what it is," The co-pilot stammered unsure and seemed to be a little scared. A sigh escaped Evan before he answered.

"Okay I'm on my way."

"Everyone calm down for now but be on alert. You coming Goldie?" Evan ordered the team. Which he received a nod from many. He was then turning to ask Anna. She was quick to nod and followed him to the cockpit.

After a few minutes of walking they were in the control area. The pilot and co-pilot seemed to be whispering to each other. While one was pointing outside the window in front of them. It seemed they had stopped the carrier, keeping it hovering in place. Looking at each other Anna and Evan shrugged.

"What are you pointing at? And why have we stopped? We're still on a mission. We have to get these people back to Sector One," Evan questioned the two with a sigh. As he rubbed his face and crossed his arms.

He was starting to get frustrated because he wanted to get this mission done with. But he soon stopped when Anna placed a hand on his arm. Turning to her he was met with her golden eyes that were wide behind her mask. She was quick to point as she looked forward.

Evan was quick to turn to see what she was looking at. All he saw was a bright light in the distance. It looked like a ball of light or an orb. He was then stepping forward with Anna. Both trying to get a closer look. More so Evan. The orb was just hovering there in the middle of the sky in front of the ship. It was as if it were waiting for something.

"We don't know what it is or what to do. The reading signature from it is off the scale and unknown. And it seems every time we try to move it follows. The jostling you felt was us trying to move away from it. But it hit the ship. Then it started moving around us as if to observe us, to us it's like it's looking for something. We honestly don't know what to do," the pilot explained to Evan, not taking his eyes off the light.

"Do you think it's something from the Arena?" Evan asked the two. As he leaned forward on the pilot seats. Trying to observe the orb of light. Anna was in a state of wonder as she looked at the orb. So much so she tilted her head in confusion.

"Like I said sir we don't know what it is. The signature and energy coming off of it is off the scale and unknown. We tried to quickly go through the database, but still can't find a match. We wanted to know what you think we should do. Because it seems we can't move without it following or attacking. And I don't think you want that thing following us to our hidden headquarters. Nor attacking us," the pilot answered. Looking to Evan and Anna for the first time now.

"Shit," Evan whispered angrily. As he threw his head back and closed his eyes thinking on what to do. Nothing like this has ever happened before. So he was clueless on what to do. He was beginning to get a headache with how much he was thinking. Between this and the mission he was getting tired. He just wanted to get the mission over and have his family day with his father and Aunt.

But his thoughts were shaken. When he felt a small gloved hand grip his arm and pull him. Opening his eyes Evan looked to see it was Anna and was quick to follow her. After telling the pilots to keep him posted which they agreed to do. Anna was then pulling him just outside the room so they could talk.

"Let me take a look at it Evan," Anna reasoned with him with her soft voice. She could see that Evan was starting to get slightly overwhelmed. So she wanted to help him. Take some of the weight of his shoulders. Anna knew she was the only one who could get close enough to take a look at the orb of light. She also knew they needed to get past it and fast. So they could finish this mission and get the people who were kidnapped back home. She was pretty much the only one who could try to get this thing out of the way.

But hearing her Evan was quick to shake his head and disagree with her plan. He didn't want to put her in such danger. Not when they didn't know what it was, and never dealt with something like this before. He didn't want to send her in blind. He didn't want to lose his Aunt. The only real maternal figure in his life now. Evan was about to speak. But was stopped by Anna raising her hand gesturing to him to stay quiet. Which led Evan to sigh and stay quiet as he looked into her golden eyes.

"I only say this because I am the only one who can get close enough to it. And I can do it quickly. We are still on a mission Evan. We need to get these people back quickly. You know the longer we wait and sit here like sitting ducks isn't good. We are losing time. And the chance of someone from the Arena finding us is getting higher. So let me go and take a look at this thing. Let me see what I can do," Anna explained to him softly. It shocked Evan to hear her say so much in one sitting. But he shook the shock away.

Knowing now wasn't the time to think too much about such a thing. Taking in what Anna said Evan grunted in frustration. Because he knew she was right. He was then quick to look at the watch on his wrist. It caused Evan to curse under his breath because of the time. Time seemed to not be on their side right now.

Turning his gaze on Anna he looked into her shining eyes. Trying to see if he could read her. Trying to see if he could see any emotions. Anna's mask hid her very well. It hid all of her… but her eyes. Even then it was hard to read her still because she could hide her emotions so well. It was more so hard to read her when around people. Though when it was just them or her with his father she showed them her emotions. Showed them her emotions mainly through her eyes.

Other than that there was nothing else that she really did. As the years went on she talked less, and reached out less and less to them. Which worried him and his father a lot as of lately. But right now he looked into her gleaming eyes. He could see she was tired which worried him. Because it was a look that he sees more and more of over the time he’s spent with her. But he also could see a look of determination in her eyes right now.

It caused Evan to clench his jaw. Because he knew she was the only one who could do this. Looking at his watch again he growled slightly in frustration. He was then running his hands through his wavy hair and over his face. Before nodding at her. Agreeing with her plan. Looking at her with concern.

"Okay. You go out there and do what you can as quickly as you can. As you said we are still on a mission. You need to be as quick as possible. I'll make sure we keep an eye on you the whole time. If you want to you can talk to me while out there whenever. And if you need to get out of there, you get out of there. I mean it. We'll find another way if anything," Evan cautioned. Hearing his speech caused Anna to smile behind her mask. But she nodded nonetheless. To let him know she agreed and to ease his worries.

"Have some faith in your Aunt Goldie. I am around a hundred years old. I got some wisdom in me. And let's not forget I've been doing this longer than you," Anna joked as she pointed at him. Evan chuckled at her before opening his arms. Inviting her into a hug. Smiling behind her mask Anna giggled and walked forward into his arms. Throwing her soft arms around his waist.

He was quick to wrap his arms around her shoulders. Not wanting to let her go. Sighing Evan was scared for his Aunt. The one he was closest to. The one who has been there for him all his life. He was filled with fear for her because he didn't want to lose her.

But he knew that she was strong and smart. So he pulled away, letting her go. Having some faith in her. Looking down at her, he smiled with a nod. Kissing her masked cover head quickly before she could push him away. It caused Anna to giggle while Evan chuckled. Both of them were soon shaking their heads at each other.

Before Evan patted her arm and gestured for her to follow him quickly. Anna nodded and rushed to follow behind him. Both knew they needed to be quick. After a moment she realized he was leading her to a weapons vault room. More specifically hers and his that they shared.

Soon Anna was grabbing a few gadgets. Her hologram watch, an extra radio, a locator. Then grabbing the two golden guns that Evan held out for her. After making sure they were loaded and giving her extra clips. She rolled her eyes at him and shook her head. Seeing her Evan was quick to voice his worries.

"Hey there's nothing wrong with extra protection. Especially when your goin' in blind. I know you have your powers, magic, or whatever. But just take them to give me peace of mind. Please," Evan pleaded with her. Sighing Anna nodded and placed them in the holsters on her thighs. She never really liked guns or anything of that sort. She preferred her non mechanical weapons. But more so preferred her weapons that were made specifically for her.

Which were her short sword that was strapped to her back. Then her two daggers that were tucked into her long black boots. Then her lasso at her side. Then her knives that were hidden all over her. They were all specially made for only her and her powers.

So she could use the weapons as a conduit for her magic at times. The weapons could absorb small amounts of her magic’s essences. It made her weapons glow with heat depending on how much magic she stored in said weapon. They could burn through pretty much anything depending on how much magic was stored in them. It was another form of weapon she could use.

After Anna was done collecting her weapons with Evan's help. She was soon guided to the rear of the ship by Evan. Where the Alpha team was. They were looking at Evan and Anna with confusion.

"We've seem to have run into a problem. Gold here is gonna go out and take a look at it. We're going to be on stand by so if anything happens. Remember we are still on a mission. So, be ready for anything. Anything can still happen. While she is out we'll be keeping an eye on her from the monitors," Evan explained to them.

Going over what is happening with them. As he took out a small touch pad and pressed a few buttons on the screen. He swiped the screen and a large hologram monitor soon appeared on the wall. Showing the team what was outside in front of the ship blocking their way still. Many were shocked at the orb. Causing them to ask questions. Which led Evan to answer what he could.

"Alright that's it with the questions for now we're wasting time. We need to get this over with okay. Goldie, remember what I said. Take a look, do what you can, but if you need to get out of there. Get out," Evan declared. Leading the team to quiet down. He then turned to Anna.

Who nodded at his request. As she walked past everyone to get to the back opening. Waiting for the hatch to open. Closing her eyes she took a deep breath. Composing herself to fly, and preparing herself for anything. Evan sighed as he walked to the side of the opening reaching for the latch. Looking at her for a moment making sure she was ready.

"You ready?" Evan asked her. Opening her eyes Anna took another deep breath, nodded, and gave him a thumbs up. Seeing her make the gesture he sent her a nod.

"Alright be careful Aunt Anna. Remember we got our family night coming up," Evan reminded her with a smile. Anna giggled and nodded. Before pointing at the latch. Evan was hesitant but reluctantly pulled it. Opening the back of the ship, making wind blow and whip around them.

Looking at Evan one last time she sent him a small salute. Then before he could say anything else she ran forward and jumped out of the back of the ship. The last thing she heard was the team laugh. As Evan cursed at her for scaring him.

A laugh escaped her as she fell from the ship. But soon she found herself closing her eyes. Anna allowed herself to fall and feel the wind rush past her. Feeling the wind against her skin. She could feel the rush and sensation of falling. And enjoyed the feeling. Letting herself feel free. She wishes she could stay like this for a while longer. But Anna knew she had a task.

So sighing she opened her shining eyes. Feeling the power she had within. Soon a luminescent gold light appeared at her chest. As the light appeared so did the warmth. Feeling it Anna smiled and allowed the feeling to grow and wash over her.

Allowing her powers to engulf her whole. And soon a gold shimmering light surrounded Anna. She then stopped falling and was hovering in the vast sky. With a gold light shimmering around her, that was her magic. Wrapped around her like a blanket. Keeping her safe and in the air.

Looking around she saw the lights of the city above and below. Noting they would be going off soon because of the time. Then she found the carrier ship above her. She needed to get to the front of the ship, and check out this orb of light. Then try to move it. Nodding to herself she then willed her powers to carry her forward.

She smiled behind her mask as she flew through the sky. Loving the feeling of soaring through the air. With her task in mind she was quick to reach her destination. Which was the front of the ship. Looking over her shoulder at the front windows of the ship. She could see the pilots, a few of her teammates, and Evan. She shook her head and waved. Before turning and making her way towards the orb of light. She was growing closer and closer to the light.

Before she stopped abruptly. Her smile falling from her lips as a frown washed over her. The feeling it was giving off. It was a familiar magic. It was a magic she hasn't felt in such a long time from anywhere but herself. Even then her own magic seemed tainted. But this sort of power or magic was pure. And it was from her old life, from her old world Prythian.

"You okay Goldie?"

Anna heard Evan through her speaker ask. Quickly reaching for the comms on her mask. She was about to answer him and explain what was happening. When suddenly the air shifted around her. She then watched as the orb of light moved closer to her. She was quick to glide and move back but it kept coming closer to her. Anna had no clue what to do.

She kept slowly moving back more. Trying to keep a distance from the orb of light. That is until she heard it. A loud noise similar to the snapping of a whip and thunder. A noise that haunted her dreams. It was the same noise she heard when she was pushed into that portal by Amarantha. It caused her to stiffen in a state of fear. But the difference now was this time she was hearing it more than once.

She was quick to cover her ears. Feeling overwhelmed by the noises. All she could hear was the whipping noise mixed with loud thunder and Evan on the comms. She was quick to ignore them and pull herself together. And was soon trying to fly away as fast as she could. Anna only got so far when she felt the wind pick up around her. She could feel the magic that was controlling the wind. She felt the force of it against her powers. It caused a scream to escape her as she tried to keep a hold on her powers. As the wind pushed her closer and closer to the orb.

Tears began to fall from Anna's eyes as she tried to fight against the force. Anna didn't know how to feel. She knew that this may be her way home. And a part of her was hoping for it. But then another part of her was scared and filled with fear. What if this was just another portal to another world she didn't know? What if someone or even Amarantha was just playing with her and was sending her to another world?

It has been too long for this portal to just come out of nowhere and send her back to Prythian. It seemed too easy. Which meant it was most likely to send her to another world. That was the only thing that was coming to her mind.

It was what caused her to fight against the current. But it was no use, it was too much. Anna cried because there was nothing she could do to keep from going into the portal. And Anna knew that she needed to stop fighting so she could preserve her magic. So she wasn't defenseless in the next world.

Looking at the ship one last time. Anna could see her team rushing around through the windows. Seeming to try and find a way to get to her. They were all somewhat a blur to her. But the one she could see clearly was Evan yelling. More tears fell thinking of him. Evan and his father were going to be the only ones she was going to miss from this world. The only ones who she hasn't lost. In that moment she focused on Evan's voice that was coming through the comms. She could hear him yelling frantically through the comms. But the last thing she heard was his cry for her.

"Aunt Annamarie."

#acotar x oc #acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #azriel x reader #thefaithfulnightwriter #azriel x oc #azriel fanfiction #azriel fanfic

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doukeshi-kun · 2 years ago

Text

𝙣𝙞𝙠𝙤𝙡𝙖𝙞 + 𝙗𝙚𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖 𝙙𝙖𝙙

featuring ⨳ nikolai gogol, gn!reader + oc!daughter

contents ⨳ fluff, slight slight angst, reader isn't mentioned a lot, established relationship, the daughter is oc

notes ⨳ this is from the conversations in discord with friends who have collective baby fever and thirst for dad!nikolai in one random day

Nikolai is more than happy to pick up his daughter from kindergarten. Usually, you would pick her up since you have a small break just enough time for you to grab your daughter, buy her food and send her home. Nikolai's not home usually at four, busy with his shady business. So when you call him to go and pick up his daughter, he is over the moon.

He is already waiting by the car, eyes looking for his adorable daughter walking out from the gate. He is just casual, with a white button-up, rolled-up sleeves and a pair of black pants. But that's still enough for some people to take several glances at him.

Nikolai ignores their attention — he's only thirsty for the only person he loves the most, his beloved — you.

After about five minutes of waiting, he finally sees his daughter walks out of the gate. She is looking at the ground. Her white braid is hanging low and her green eyes are dull. She is clutching her red schoolbag, a bit tense.

Nikolai is a sensitive person — especially when it comes to emotions. So he certainly notices his daughter is acting weirdly. Yes, she's visibly distraught with her thoughts when she accidentally walks past Nikolai's car.

“Mari,” he calls.

His daughter, Mari, flinches out of her thoughts and turns around. Nikolai smiles and before he could crouch and opens his arms for her, she already runs straight into him, bumping into his legs.

“Papa!”

Nikolai chuckles, smiling affectionately. He pats her head — she is short, obviously, just reaching his knees. Nikolai crouches and hugs her, giving a smooch on her cheek.

“Papa pick me up?” Mari asks as her tiny hands hold his face. Nikolai coos, overwhelmed with the adoration in his heart. He nods.

“Yes, malyshka,” he replies as he pinches her cheek, making her whine in annoyance. Nikolai only laughs before he stands up again and opens the car door. He bends to help Mari to take off her school bag. There's a charm of red pompom hanging on her bag, similar to Nikolai's hair tie.

He puts the bag under the seat and then he picks her up, getting her onto the seat. He reaches for the seatbelt, putting it on her. “Comfy?” he asks and when she nods, Nikolai smiles proudly to himself. Before he closes the door, he kisses her forehead once.

He gets into the driver's seat and turns on the engine. He drives out from the kindergarten area, sometimes taking a glance at his still disturbed daughter.

“Rough day at school, malyshka?” he asks.

“Hm...” she nods a bit, stroking her braid sadly —that trait is very similar to what Nikolai would do when he's sulking towards you.

“Wanna tell me?”

“Papa... am I... am I ugly?” she asks, lips quivering and Nikolai almost brakes abruptly at the question. He frowns and immediately parks his car on the side of the street, looking at his daughter.

“No. No, you aren't ugly. What nonsense! Mari, you are the cutest girl in the world! The most adorable, the prettiest, the most glamorous!” Nikolai says. “Who said that?”

She's smiling at her dad's words but she's starting to sob. “T-These boys in my class... called me ugly and weird... They say meanie things! And... and then they touched my cheeks and...”

“They what?” Nikolai grips the steering wheel and has to internally exhale a deep breath without sighing out loud to his daughter.

“They say bad words to me... And they touched my cheeks...”

“.... Did they hurt you?”

“O-One of them... like... pinch it...”

“Does the teacher says anything?”

She shakes her head.

“Do you know their names? The boys?”

She says three names.

“Alright.”

Nikolai takes out his phone and types something in it. But not long before she tugs his sleeve. He turns to her and she looks scared.

“Papa... are you angry...? Y-You're scary now...”

Nikolai purses his lips — bad habits come up again. He suddenly remembers the frustrated words from his colleague — “Gogol, can you behave well? Your whole presence is scaring my customers. My God, why are you here in this casino anyway?”

Nikolai swallows hard. Of course... He was a very dangerous person several years ago. He made horrendous, gruesome and grotesque crimes. He killed people left and right. All to just reach his extreme ideals.

And now he's here, almost ten years later, having a family. Does he deserve this? After murdering a lot of people, taking them away from their families — and now he is having one, himself. Does he even deserve to have a family? Is he deserving of this future he's trying to live in when his past is constantly trailing in his shadow? Will this guilt follow him to hell and eat him slowly from inside? Will he find himself caged again? Will the freedom be out of his reach?

“Papa!”

Nikolai jumps at Mari's high-pitched scream. He looks at her and she's crying — she looks worried and she is panicked when she sees her dad being silent. She doesn't know why but she cannot help but feel a very scary feeling from his silence.

“Papa, a-are you sick? P-Please, I'm scared..!” she cries and Nikolai's heart breaks at her tears. He realizes he just daydreams about his inner chaos while his daughter needs him. This feels just as hurt when his beloved spouse is crying to him. Nikolai unbuckles her seatbelt and carefully picks her up to sit on his lap.

He hugs her, kissing her head.

“I'm okay... I'm okay, shh... Don't cry, okay? I'm not sick, alright? I'm just distraught.” his voice is soft and soothing as he strokes her hair — just the same as his. Her eyes are also just like his, except her face resembles her mother more.

“I just don't like what the boys did to you. I promise, I promise they won't hurt you or touch you or call you names anymore.” Nikolai looks at her and she stares before slowly nodding back. He smiles at her again.

“If they touch you anymore, you say what?”

“I say 'No'.”

“Good. Then, what else? What did papa teach you?”

“Then... you say.. uh.. I have to... kick their balls!”

Nikolai laughs and his laugh is contagious enough for the spirited girl to giggle. “Yes, you got it right! And then, if they touch your cheek, you will do this...” Nikolai forms a loose fist and slowly gestures it to her cheek, poking her skin with his knuckles. “Pow.” he says, playfully.

She grins, looking at him contently and follows his step. She clenches her tiny fist and pushes it to Nikolai's cheek. Though Nikolai does not even feel a thing, he purposely turns his head sideways, according to the direction, just to show Mari that she 'punches' him.

“Good girl! Yes, like that. And do it harder to them! Like really hard! That's called, a punch.”

"A... pun. Pun!”

Nikolai cackles, eyes almost close at how hard he smiles at his daughter's cuteness. “Okay, malyshka. That's close enough. Now, do we wanna get desserts? To cheer you up? Ice-cream or waffle?”

“Both!” she claps her hands excited. She's already imagining a thick waffle with drizzles of chocolate sauce, and two scoops of vanilla ice-cream topping the delicacy.

“Okay, let's go! I know bestest place for a waffle and ice-cream! Anything for you, okay?” Nikolai says before he puts her back to the seat and buckles her seatbelt.

BEEP!

“Goddamn!” Nikolai looks in the mirror, seeing a car honking at him before passing him. He clicks his tongue. “What the hell is his problem, dude?”

Mari gasps and slaps his hand. He looks at her, pouting, already he can listen your voice scolding him for saying bad words in front of the kids. “Bad words! Baddie words! Papa cannot say that!”

“I did not say anything.”

She gasps. “Gaslighting!”

“Where the hell did you learn that?”

©doukeshi-kun 2023 — do not copy, plagiarize and repost my works to any platform, more @cherikolya

if you like my works, consider buy me a ko-fi!

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janicekao · 2 months ago

Text

Just, Win

Pairing:Lucius (Paul Mescal) x Black oc Summary: Based off of the details in the film "Gladiator 2" Cassia, a young and beautiful medicine woman falls in love with a gladiator who she heals and bandages after each of his battles. Although this gladiator Lucius is upfront with his intentions being that he refuses to ever love again after the death of his wife Arishat, Cassia is far from as upfront as she keeps many important secrets only to herself. Warnings:time piece, dark romance, violence, r0ugh s3x, d0m&f3msub, fanfic, smut, fluff, br33ding k1nk, romance, ancient rome, gladiator, yearAD200, etc.

8236 words

Wattpad link

Enjoy my babies <3 ------------------------------

Like a stolen last breath, Lucius' climax consumes him into the sight of bright stars. A warmth pools inside Cassia's belly and a delicious moan escapes her tongue being that the spillage of hot cum is her favorite part of the act. His impale deepens as Cassia's pelvis stretches to accompany his rough sex, injecting his very last drop of milk and stilling inside of her womb.

Lucius' palms hold down her plush hips as he begins to slide his length out... grinning slightly as he watches his lover wince from the slight sting of his withdrawal. "How do you do it?" He pants tirelessly as he lays in between her thighs with the side of his face flushed against Cassia's breasts. Comfortable and serene, skin to skin in their sticky mess. "How do you fuck me like that little dove? Where did you learn it?"

Cassia playfully scoffs. "You say that as if you believe I'm well experienced, as if I'm some harlot."

"No Cassia, I say that as if I believe you were only meant to give this sex to me." Regardless of their complex relationship, Lucius still remains a jealous and possessive man over her.

Her heart warms... becoming branded with his name yet she knows what was agreed upon a little short of a year ago. Before Lucius and the people of his homeland were concurred by the Romans, he and his wife fought tooth and nail for their freedom. In the end they lost the battle, resulting in his wife Arishat's death, his bondage in slavery, and his now position of weekly Colosseum battles as a Gladiator. But for the honor and respect of his late wife, Lucius has refused to ever love again. Even if he finds a new companion as he has done with Cassia, Rome's very best healer and finest bachelorette... their relationship is all that it will ever be, for the sake of strength and honor.

"No Cassia, I say that as if I believe you were only meant to give this sex to me."

His baritoned intimacy creeps through her soul once again on a repetitive memory. Becoming even more infatuated each time Lucius says something romantic, her hopes continue to stay high with the thought of him admitting his love for her one day. "Maybe I am only meant to give it to you, Lucius." Tossing the ruffian onto his back, Cassia flips her mane of curls over her shoulder, taking an arched seat on his bare crotch as if he were saddled to ride. "So let me give it to you again."

Palm barely wide enough to cuff his girth, Cassia lifts up slightly to position his staff of flesh beneath her and let his cock breach into her core. With a bitten lip and furrowed brows, Cassia adjusts once more to his weighty length and width. Feeling full, stuffed to the max, she begins to ride him. Lucius throws his head back in awe, eyes rolling and burley moans escaping his lips as Cassia's tight cavity makes him weaker than any battle ever could. Hands callused from his current life as a Gladiator, they nearly scratch Cassia's soft flesh as they begin to cup and grasp her hills of feminine breasts. His grip leaves her sensitive mounds and returns to her hips, forcing and directing exactly the way he wants to be fucked.

Cassia's speed increases, bucking her hips and bouncing her entire weight onto his steel-thighs as she drips honey around each jab into her cunt.

"So fucking wet for me, Gods Cassia you take me so well." Jaw clenched and veins protruding from his neck, Lucius appreciates his most recent gift from the Gods. "Pretty little cunt, want to watch you cum for me, yeah?"

Cassia nods as a tear escapes her dark gray eyes.

"Will you scream for me?" He continues to tease. "So loud that all of Rome knows my name, knows exactly who fucks you so good?"

A cruel grasp to the back of Cassia's head of curls yanks her against Lucius' stone like abs. The force of being pulled down against his wall of body-muscles takes the breath out of her lungs, leaving her conflicted and in shock as he continues to jackhammer his cock upwards... swelling and causing her pussy to redden as she's used as his weightless cock sleeve.

Breathless and a pulp of mush in his arms, Cassia does the unexpected... She lands a tongue kiss into Lucius' mouth causing him to fall weak and submissive to her soft and contagious ways of making a man love her.

Her kiss is heaven. Her kiss causes him to jolt, sputtering a bead of precum out of his cockhead.

He inhales her moans and allows his tongue to tangle with hers. "Lucius." Her pussy quivers as an orgasm spasms onto his length. Cassia moans his name again. "Mm'please Lucius."

"I know, I know." The pleasurable pain isn't a secret, but he knows good and well she can take it, "just keep kissing me."He becomes addicted to this kiss, feeling bound and tied to Cassia like nothing he's ever felt before.

Soon, guilt begins to eat at him with thoughts of his last moments with his wife the day she took an arrow while fighting for their homeland. The love that he has for Arishat is much different than what he has been feeling for Cassia lately. Arishat was his other half. She was strong and didn't need a man to care for her. She was his war partner, a friend like never before, and his soulmate. But with Cassia... well, she's his delicate flower.With Cassia, Lucius' world stands still when he is in her presence. The most beautiful, innocent, soft, and loving woman he's ever met. He wants to protect her, keep her near to him, be with her every second... to become one with her essence and to give her the love that she deserves.

What he feels for her, frightens him. "Wait, Cassia stop." Lifting her off his lap and taking his erection out, Lucius gently drops her onto the cheaply hay filled mattress.

Spoiled by consistent good dick, she huffs as she watches Lucius put himself away and redress into his rags. "Was it not good this time?"

A bit too good.

"T'was fine." Lucius tries his hardest not to look back at the gorgeous minx in his bed, knowing that her begful eyes that constantly get her way would be just as large as her breasts.

"Your kiss tastes full of love, Cassia." His spat holds an insanely harsh temper. "I told you not to love me—"

Cassia interrupts him as she covers her body in the bed's thin sheet. "I have full remembrance of what you told me, but there are things that not even I can help."

He sighs. "You are injuring your own heart. Even in her death, my wife is the only woman I am to ever love."

"I don't mean to sound insensitive..." Cassia softens her voice, letting her gentle palm on his bare shoulder calm him into a more understanding state. "But her love will be there waiting for you for all of eternity, waiting for you in the afterlife. Is it so wrong to share a love with me in this life?"

Conflicted with his own thoughts, Lucius reaches towards her hand on his shoulder and gives it a gentle caress. But, soon he removes it, keeping her from touching him anymore. "I'm sorry Cassia. But we made an agreement."

With his cum still dripping between her legs, Lucius' words indeed pain Cassia's heart.

The crumbling of stone doors begin to move about. With all gladiators locked away in their cells for the night, Cassia realizes that it only could be the guards... possibly even the owner of these gladiators, her uncle and boss, Macrinus.

"Someone's coming, we must dress." Cassia agrees with him. Leaving the bed to redress in her gown and headdress, she grabs her kit of medical herbs and supplies, making it seem that she was here for a reason other than sex with the gladiator champion.

Their quickies were much more challenging when Lucius slept in a cell with steel bars like the rest of the gladiators. But ever since he became undefeated, Macrinus made sure his prized warrior slept comfortably in his own stone chamber far beneath the Colosseum. A chamber for better sleep and privacy, in hopes that Lucius will be inspired to keep up his winning streak and to keep Macrinus a wealthy slave owner.

Macrinus and his guards open the doors of Lucius' privacy, interrupting his and Cassia's night together. She bows gracefully with her kit in hand, "your gladiator has been serviced Sir Macrinus."

Macrinus squints in suspicious disgust, seeing Cassia as nothing but the image of her mother. His half baby sister, Adayla... a whore who died of syphilis only a few years back.

Smelling sex in the air and realizing what the two have been up to in here, Macrinus believes his niece to be following in the footsteps of her whoring mother. "He's been serviced? Oh, I bet he has."

"Lucius!" Macrinus continues with joyous celebration. "Rome's gladiator champion! Oh how I celebrate your victory today young man."

Lucius scoffs with a sarcastic eye-roll. He isn't a fool. He knows that with his win today, Macrinus and all who had bet on him has earned their wages back and then some... making them all very wealthy on the fruits of his labor.

Macrinus celebrates him with an actual meal tonight, nothing the mice beneath the Colosseum have already nibbled on. He brings in a plate of fresh cheese and fruit, joyously celebrating that buying Lucius as his slave was the best choice he's ever made in life.

In front of them all, Macrinus begins to eat off of the small ration of food brought to Lucius for his victories. Although Macrinus knows that back at his palace he has more than enough food to feed all of Rome. He does this to cruelly remind Lucius that everything he has, and everything that he is, belongs to him.

"I was once in your shoes." Macrinus begins, mouth full of juicy grape. "A slave, bought to be a gladiator, and then I won the wooden sword. As a champion gladiator during my season, I won my own freedom. Did you know that you're nearly there?"

Lucius holds his temper and the slyness of his tongue. "Two more arena battles. Yes, I know."

"And what will you do with this freedom if you win it?" A sly grin sweeps across Macrinus' lips. Old and wise to it all, Macrinus can tell that the first thing Lucius- the young buck wants to do, is to kill him. Hatred pools in Lucius' bright blue eyes, killing Macrinus for buying him and branding his back like cattle... pushing him into weekly arena battles like a prized pony, it is the only thing that comes to his immediate thought.

"Leave Rome." Lucius holds his tongue and answers with the second most thing he'll do once he is freed. "To anywhere. Anywhere that has yet to be raped by Rome."

"Oh??" Macrinus begins to chuckle. "And where exactly will that be?"

The bickering continues. "You'd be the last to know."

"And here I thought that we were becoming friends." Macrinus fakes a sarcastic pout. "Well my champion, you rest up! You have a bright and early morning tomorrow to continue training for the next week's battle. You look good! Wounds healing quickly I see. I guess the healer, my niece Cassia has more talent than just a warm cunt, aye?"

The guards begin to chuckle underneath their steel armor and Cassia who continues to stand in the corner reddens into wide eyes of tearful shame. But mostly heartbreak and disbelief. Macrinus never refers to Cassia as his niece... only doing it today to embarrass her and reveal the secret that she has been hiding from Lucius all along.

"Your—" Lucius gulps. "Niece?"

He never knew that his newest lover is related to the man who owns his life... Another backstabbing betrayal here in Rome, he isn't sure how much more he can take, he isn't sure if this place called Rome isn't hell in itself.

"Oh, she didn't tell you?" Macrinus grabs hold of Cassia, causing her to gasp as she is pulled into the elderly-gladiator's strong arms. A growling snarl lifts Lucius' top lip at one corner, seeing Macrinus lay hands on her, even if the caress is soft, it angers him like no other.

"My dear niece..." Macrinus continues with a flirty hand, lifting at Cassia's chin. "What did I tell you about keeping secrets? Naughty girl. Good night, Lucius. Next week I expect another victory."

"And might I add..." Macrinus tosses Cassia into the arms of his guards, wiping his hands on his robe of satin as if touching Cassia is touching garbage, He begins to peer around Lucius' new and roomy chamber and continues with his blabbering of utter nonsense. "What a splendid chamber you have, isn't it? Do you ever think about why you out of all the gladiators have a different living situation?"

"Because I earned it. I win every battle and I kill to continue living." Jaws tightened to nearly breaking, Lucius words come out in a tight grit.

"Or maybe..." Macrinus grins. "Just maybe, a sweet little voice requested it. Cassia's mouth can make a man do anything, aye?"

Lucius lunges at his owner, soon completely cut off by the slamming shut of his locked stone door.

"How could you?!" Being forced to walk out of the gladiator-slave quarters, Cassia yanks from the grip of the guards.

"How could I what?" With a million other get-rich-quick schemes running on overtime in his mind, Macrinus hardly pays her any mind.

"You never refer to me as your niece! You hate me! You've only done this to embarrass me." With tears gone, Cassia now steams with rage. "And to flirt with me? You sick bastard, I can only imagine what Lucius is thinking!"

"And why do you care what my slave thinks?" Macrinus stops in his path, turning around to hover over Cassia and to strike fear within her. "Because you are fucking him? You should be ashamed of yourself. The many Roman generals and soldiers that would take you as a wife yet instead you throw yourself at my livestock!"

"Livestock?!" She gasps. "He is human! A man with the same beginnings as yourself might I add. They call him 'The Prince of Rome' you know... They say he is the lost grandson of the great Emperor Marcus Aurelius and the son of Lucilla and the greatest gladiator of all time, the late Maximus Decimus Meridius! He is royalty, better than us all! The rightful emperor of Rome!"

"Dear, tell me where did you hear this rumor?" Macrinus belittles her with laughter. "Out at the street markets or was it with Lucius, when he told you sweet lies while lying on your back?"

"Th-They aren't lies... " Constantly frightened by her evil uncle, Cassia begins to stutter. "He is, he really is the lost prince of Rome..."

"You are truly your mother's child, my dear." He chuckles sarcastically. "A brainless harlot."

Cassia has had enough. She can't take much more and her rage overpowers her. A small needle-like knife is drawn from her golden wristband and she presses it to Macrinus' jugular. "Speak of my mother again and I will spill your blood."

Macrinus' eyes widen and his guards immediately jump into formation with their revealed swords as they await Cassia's next move. Macrinus stares nearly proud. "Well would you look at that... Maybe you are my blood after all."

Confusion frowns her face. Cassia looks down and notices a blade just as tiny pressed beneath her left breast, awaiting to pierce her heart. "I carry a needle-sword in my wristband too. When you draw your weapon sweet niece, next time be sure that you know where your opponents hands are or you could be in just as much trouble."

Macrinus quickly shoves Cassia into the chest of one of his men. "Guards take her to the palace and begin to schedule courting for the girl. She needs discipline, a husband to keep her in place, it isn't my job anymore. I'm old, I'm tired. I've been stuck with her since her mother died and I'm tired of paying for people's sins that are not of my own!"

She attempts to lunge at him again, yet this time her arms are held back. "I am a healer!" She shouts. "I have no time for wifely duties!"

"Starting today you do. You're off my service." Firing her makes Cassia gasp... If she is fired from bandaging the gladiators, she doesn't know when she'll ever see Lucius again.

She thinks quickly on her feet. "And who will bandage your wounded gladiators? Ravi? The medicine man who learned his entire trade from my teachings? The same medicine man who gave your prized gladiator double the dose of opium, knocking him out to the point of almost missing his battle last week? Like it or not you need me. If you let me go, expect your money to be lost to dead gladiators that have overdosed instead of having fought in the arena."

...

Macrinus knows she's right... He knows that Cassia is the best healer there is.

"And so you will keep your job." His response causes Cassia to breathe again. "Being that your only use to me is your skill in medicine, I'll keep you. You'll serve and bandage the gladiators only once! Only after their battles... You may only check in on them and their wounds after you get my permission, do you understand?"

"Yes!" She quickly obliges, doing whatever it may take to not be taken completely away from Lucius. "Yes Macrinus, I understand."

Her excitement angers him. The last thing Macrinus wants is to have his pissworthy niece think that he actually paid her a favor.

Macrinus grips her face, painfully pulling her by her soft skin closer to him. "Keep this in mind, if you foolishly become with child during your particular visits with the gladiator Lucius... you'll be no use to me swollen with babe when I need you on your feet and working. Cassia, I'll take your fucking head. Do you understand me? No successful healer has ever ran around with a child on her hip. I'll repeat myself, IF YOU BECOME PREGNANT, YOU ARE DEAD!"

Her stomach drops...

The rage in his eyes is so familiar, maybe Macrinus is the devil after all, so very willing to kill her and an unborn child.

Macrinus let's go of her face. "Nod your head and get out of my presence."

Cassia nods and her uncle shoos her away like a mangy street rat. Fear immediately overwhelms her for the simply fact that... well, she already is pregnant.

———

Today the Colosseum is packed with an audience that chants Lucius' name.

They want him to win. They want the Prince of Rome to continue his streak of victories and Cassia wants that too. A loss in the arena, means a loss of his life. Fight to the death or let the Emperors choose who is to survive.

Lucius comes from beneath the Colosseum and the uproar of screams is deafening. Dressed in handsome armor, Cassia's heart beats out of her chest, praying to the Gods to continue his winning streak. She presses her hand to her chest to slow her breathing, but nothing seems to work. However, she feels slight relief as she watches Lucius pumped on adrenaline and standing tall and proud as a warrior.

The horns blow and flags fly from the top of the stands, suddenly the event begins. Lucius' opponent is another bought slave by another rich man, but this gladiator is different... A harder opponent to beat. In head to toe expensive steel gear and armor, the man doubles Lucius' size.

Cassia can hardly watch as she peaks through her slender fingers.

As the fighting begins, the battle gets ugly before it gets better. Lucius swings his sword, giving the other gladiator a deep slice across his bicep and the man does him the exact same. Cassia cringes. She knows that in most fights, gladiators can play dirty, slathering their swords in snake venom to quickly reach death in their opponent. All that she can hope is that it isn't the case for the fresh wound nearing Lucius' shoulder.

The man then tackles Lucius.

Striking fear into the entire crowd as the barbarian beats on Lucius like a bag of wheat, the show quickly ends as Lucius grabs the man's ankle and trips him onto his back. He attacks him. Lucius jumps on top of the man with a callused grasp to his helmet and slams the back of his opponent's head into the hard dust of the arena until the medal begins to cave in, causing a puddle of blood to seep out around them.

His large opponent although injured and out of it, he still continues to fight with movements that look as if he were in slow motion.

Lucius stands tired, beaten, and out of breath. He awaits the approval of one of the emperors to either spare the gladiator's life, or to end it.

The arena waits in suspense and excitement. The Colosseum holds Rome's only entertainment around, meaning that over thousands are watching. Will Emperor Geta give a thumbs up to spare the man's life, or will he thumbs down to have Lucius end it?

Emperor Geta never has been a warm man of remorse... He knows that a thumbs down will drive the crowd wild. And so he does.

Lucius picks up his sword from the dirt, twirling it and immediately letting out a roar as he uses all of his strength to decapitate the man beneath him.

The crowd erupts. They celebrate his name and continuous victories but only Cassia can see the pure sadness in his eyes, even if hundreds of feet away from him.

Another victory only means another innocent enslaved man, murdered for the sake of Lucius being able to live another day...

The people of Rome may celebrate him... Little children wishing to grow up and be as fierce as him, men inspired by his strength, and women infatuated with his masculinity... But what they don't know about Lucius is that he is a man with an enormous heart. A man who only wants all people to live fairly. A man who would be the best emperor Rome could ever imagine.

Now able to breathe again knowing that Lucius has kept himself alive another day with only one more fight to go, Cassia grabs her belongings from where she sits in the stands and leaves to go to his aid. She takes a shortcut, cloaking her head in garment as she runs down the secret stairs in the back of the Colosseum.

Finally making it below in the gladiators quarters, Macrinus' other gladiators cheer on their friend Lucius. They celebrate another victory with him as they raise their swords in unison. "Strength and honor!" They chant, saluting their champion with brotherly love.

Cassia knows not to interrupt this very special moment for them. These men fight tooth and nail for their lives weekly, if small celebrations for victories will keep their faith and strength up, then celebrating is what they must do.

As the men begin to disperse, Lucius frees himself from his heavy armor and weapons. He chugs down a pitcher of water and groans from the pain of his sore muscles and bleeding sword wound. Cassia gulps. It's been an entire week since she's last seen him after his previous gladiator battle, and with Macrinus' interruption that night, she is sure that she is the last person that Lucius wants to see today.

Quietly stepping from the shadows, Lucius spots Cassia and immediately rolls his eyes. His body is tired, and so is his patience.

"I-I've come to dress your wounds." Cassia stutters and the words hurt to even come from her throat. They'd be much easier if they were: 'I'm sorry' or 'I miss you' or 'I love you.'

"Get out." His voice is low and stern with a look of betrayal and disappointment across his expression. Lucius steps into the cell that he once stayed in before he was upgraded to his chamber. The tiny cell looks even smaller with his large frame inside.

"Please don't dismiss me." Following behind him and lowering her cloak, Cassia even begins to plead. "This isn't your cell anymore Lucius, why are you here?"

"Here?" He snaps. "You mean in the cell with a stone slab for a bed? The same cell that a bought gladiator is supposed to lay in? An eight by eight bullpen that I had at first before you used your family ties to get me a chamber?"

"Just stop!" Cassia faintly looks around them as Lucius begins to make a scene. "You're upset, but I can explain everything. Come with me. Bathhouse, now."

...

Pulling the large injured man by his arm, Lucius lets Cassia lead him, charmed by her sexy persistency although clearly still upset with her.

They enter the bathhouse together, a large seperate room of stone that has a flow of natural water from the outside. Some areas of the room seem like a pool, other areas water leads into large stone tubs where the water flows warmly on the hot stone for the aching bones of tired gladiators.

Cassia rids her cloak and begins to prepare her set up for wound care on a small table near the tub. "Soak in that bath, I need all dirt to be out that wound before I stitch it."

As she turns back around, her breath is instantly taken. Stripped out of his clothes, Lucius stands in front of her with an image that makes her mouth water.

As if he were sculpted in marble, he stands straight- well postured with each protruding muscle perfectly placed. His skin is gorgeously sunkissed, making him a dark olive that contrast off of his intense blue eyes that seem to beam hotter than the sun's rays today. His tanned rod of flesh has Cassia taken aback. Supposedly upset with her, yet his cock stands at attention and far from flaccid.

The twenty-eight year old gorgeous soldier standing with muscles still pulsing from battle nearly makes her come out of her ladylike nature. Wanting to become feral and see how far his hooked ten inches can reach down her throat.

"What is it?" He asks nonchalantly as he draws Cassia from her trance. "Now my image has struck you? You've seen it before love. You know how to handle it too, handle it like you fucking love it."

Cassia groans with a sarcastic eye-roll. "Sit in your bath and shut up."

As his tensed muscles continue to ache him, Lucius agrees. He soaks in the warm water, hissing as he feels the light ripples cleanse his wounds.

With plenty on her mind, Cassia lets Lucius relax as she strolls the bathhouse in thought.

The young girl is only twenty-three. She's unwed, unloved, and with a baby on the way fathered by a man that she isn't sure hates her or not.

Life is difficult for her as of right now... all that she wishes is that her mother was here to give her a word of advice, in this very moment... even just a hug would suffice.

As Lucius opens his eyes from relaxing. He can't help but to watch Cassia. He watches her petite feet slowly kick through the fresh water, rippling the bottom of her long white stola-dress as it floats on top of the water, she soaks her daywear without any care. She's so careless, so free.Her beauty is painful. Lucius gawks her direction with a prominently tensed jaw, realizing that he has involved himself with the most beautiful woman alive. He sees an angel... an angel who today, just has forgotten her wings.

"I'm ready for you." He craves her presence. "Come here."

Doing as told, Cassia stands and lightly wrings the water from her dress. She dips her hands in the fresh water once more and rubs a small crumble of lye between her fingers to make her hands sterile. Pulling the table near to him, Cassia sits on the edge of the stone tub with her supplies.

A lit pipe awaits Lucius' inhale. He knows what it is and has seen it before, the contents inside is opium to ease a bit of his pain. "Absolutely not." He refuses. "Ravi gave me some of that and it nearly killed me. Knocked me out for hours."

"Well good thing I'm not Ravi." Cassia presses the pipe to his lips anyways. "It's the correct dosage, and trust me, you'll need this for when I am about to sew your skin back together."

Although annoyed, Lucius does it anyways. He inhales the burning fine brown powder through the pipe, coughing after two breaths in.

"Good." Cassia softly coos with a gentle caress to his full beard. Her touch makes him want to purr like a kitten in her hand, never feeling a better womanly touch in his life, not even when he was just a sleeping babe on his mother's tit.

Cassia readies her needle and twine. "I need you to breathe Lucius. This'll hurt like hell but your cut is deep, it needs to be sewn." He nods in agreement.

The needle pierces him and he shouts out in agonizing pain.

"Goddamnit!" Lucius grits through his teeth. "If I weren't crazy, I'd think you were doing this on purpose."

Cassia chuckles. "Hold still or I might."

The opium begins to kick in and Lucius' pain fades away. He watches Cassia as she works. A beauty with furrowed brows, focused on perfecting her work as she continues to stitch.

"What are you to him?" Slightly high, his deep baritoned words slur although his thoughts are still sharp. "The man who owns me, you're his niece and lover as well?"

"Gods no!" Cassia scoffs. "He only behaved like that to upset you. Just don't listen to him, okay?"

"You earned your chamber Lucius." She sighs in continuance. "All that I did was recommend the room exchange by giving my finest medical opinion. I told Macrinus that if he wanted you to continue winning, that you needed a room with at least a hay bed, a room with privacy for a good night rest, and better food than the oat-sludge they feed the other gladiators."

"I don't need your charity." He refuses her help, "I never asked you to stand up for me-"

"And yet I always will." Cassia abruptly cuts off his tantrum. "End your complaining, I care about you Lucius, I always will. My uncle was wrong to let you speculate if there were something between him and I. I never did anything with my uncle to get you your chamber, he just knew that speaking to you like that would aggravate you. After tossing me around in front of you, he wiped his hands of me literally as if I were dirty garbage."

Although still angry that Cassia kept this as a secret from him, he's able to find some relief in knowing nothing incestral was happening between them.

Cassia lightly chuckles. "To tell you the truth, Macrinus never has married because he's afraid to lose his riches... and of course the fact that he only aims to sleep with people of an even higher standard than he is, preferably men at that...My uncle is insane, but even stooping as low as relations with me is far too low for him. There isn't some incestral affair, and there isn't another man... it's just you, it's always been you."

"Hmm." He teases. "Any women?"

She playfully rolls her eyes. "Not even that."

"Lucius.." Cassia continues to explain with a last stitch. "When Macrinus was a youthful man his petty crimes led him to be put in slavery. Your grandfather, the emperor long ago bought him and made him into a gladiator. He won the wooden sword, and became a free man. Macrinus went back to his petty crimes and constant gambling, however, this time he got lucky... He made a name for himself and became something that he once hated, a wealthy slave owner in Rome. Macrinus may have bought you Lucius, betting on you weekly, but he doesn't like you... If the rumors about you being the prince of Rome is true, then it was your blood who put a hot brand to his back and made him fight for his life as you are currently doing now."

Lucius frowns in thought... He never realized that it was his grandfather who had Macrinus in this very situation that he himself is in now. It almost makes him pity Macrinus, almost.But the man is just too damn evil to pity. "Tell me more about Macrinus, I want to know more."

"Wellllll." Cassia ponders for a bit, searching deeply for more talk about Macrinus. "I'm his niece, well, half niece. His father, my grandfather, left him and his mother when Macrinus was just a boy. My grandfather met a new wife, my grandmother and he remarried... That's when they had my mother. Macrinus was always jealous of my mother, his half sister. My mother may have chosen the life of a whore that ultimately took her life in the end, but what she had that Macrinus never did, was their father's love... The love that Macrinus lost when grandfather left him. Only a few years ago now, my mother died from an illness, and that's when he took me in. But because of the hate in his heart, it wasn't in the way of taking in a niece, more like his slave."

"Yeah?" Lucius scoffs. "Well I don't see the brand on my back, on yours."

"No, maybe not." Cassia sighs, eyes glassing over with tears. "But I wear my brand on my heart. I've been taken in by a man who hates me. An uncle that is the closest thing I have ever had to a father because I am a product of a quick fuck by some customer of my mother's. If Macrinus really tried, he could be a gift to my life, a caring elder who takes me under his wing... But instead, all he does is make my life hell."

Cassia wipes a fallen tear and Lucius immediately catches her hand and presses her knuckles softly against his lips. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I was afraid of exactly this. Afraid you'd no longer like me." She admits.

Lucius sighs, becoming corrupt with guilt. He begins to worry for Cassia. "Does he harm you?"

...

She thinks about the many times she's been slapped across her face by Macrinus. "No." She lies to keep the peace.

Lucius watches her closely, his ice blue eyes reading through her nearly pierces Cassia like a sword...

Macrinus, he does beat her. More reason for Lucius to kill him in the end.

She runs a finishing ointment of herbs and goat milk on his newly sewn wound. "You're so injured tonight..." Cassia quietly frets, "Lucius, I watch every gladiator battle in tears. I never know if you could lose this day or the next, I never know if I will witness your death in one of these matches... yet my eyes still glue to your every movement until the very end. If something ever happens to you, I don't know what I'd do with myself."

"Shh." He hushes her gently with a sweet caress to her cheek. Lucius slides over his small plate of this week's rations. "Eat, you're becoming fatigued."

He takes a piece of crumbled bread to her lips along with a few grapes, forcing her to eat and making sure her well-being is taken care of.

Lucius' constant care and worry for her makes it impossible for Cassia not to love him.

"With the impossibly small rations they give you here... You still try to feed me." She can't understand how he is real. Cassia stares at him in disbelief that a man could ever be so kind. "Why?"

"Because..." Lucius watches Cassia as she stands to pack away her kit. "I worry about you. Constantly."

"Worry no longer." She insists. "I am well fed."

Drawn to her thick backsides, he grasps a hand full just because. "Indeed you are."

Cassia squeals lightly, bringing a smile and slight chuckle to Lucius' lips as she blushes red-hot.

"In which I am able to eat food better than what they serve you... I have brought some for you today." Cassia digs into her cloak and presents Lucius with a wedge of cake.

He takes a first unsure bite before the flavor hits him. If he weren't so hungry and gobbling the wedge of cake down, he'd be jealous and hasty at the fact Cassia and Macrinus are able to eat something so delicious as this daily.

"Incredible." He finishes with a last dry gulp. "Thank you."

Cassia shrugs. "I'd rather a proper thank you."

...

Lucius lifts his brows in curious temptation. "I bet you would. Come closer so I can give it to you."

Cassia sits closer to him and Lucius' wet fingertips dimple the waist of her dress as he needs for her to be closer to him.

"You forgive me?" With eyes as delicate and sweet as candy, Cassia wins him over with her softness. "For keeping this secret of who I am?"

"You make it very hard to stay mad, little dove." He nearly becomes drunk off love from just staring at her. "Alls forgiven."

"You'll wet my dress." Cassia pauses him from tugging on her more.

"Mm, and such a pretty dress isn't it?" Lucius' taunts ooze with seductive heat. "Take it off then."

Without another word, Lucius tugs her golden pin that holds the dress together and watches it drape off of her body into a pile of fabric at her feet.

The sight of her body brings a chill down his spine. So aroused by her he feels dangerous and destructive. "Get in the bath, Cassia." He prompts a demand, far from asking.

She steps carefully into the warm bath, feeling butterflies and slight self consciousness as Lucius stares up at her with his mouth leveled at her cunt. He grasps her thighs, letting his thumbs peel her pussy lips apart as he nearly fawns over at the sight. So fat, so warm, so pink, so ready, so his.

A tongue flick against her pearl makes Cassia gasp. With a lick to his lips, Lucius grins. He pulls her closer, directing her digits into gripping his hair as he leans his head back and has her sit on his opened mouth.

His tongue wriggles through her core and the sounds are lewd and sloppy. Cassia's honey drenches his beard, and his mouth is happily filled with her essence.

"Darling you taste like absolute magic." He heaves breathlessly.

She gets used to the grip on his short locs of brunette curls. Cassia glides her cunt across his tongue as her stomach tightens from pleasure. "I love when you kiss me here." She whines softly.

"I know you do, shall I do it till you cry for mercy?" A question that only can be answered one way, an immediate nod yes.

Lucius chuckles. "So needy, little dove."

With a strong arm instantly hooked around her, Lucius keeps Cassia still as his two most middle fingers begin to pump into her tight cunt, stretching her for what will come later. His tongue focuses on the swollen pink bud that makes her knees weak each time his tongue laps at it and he finds a working tempo that has Cassia trembling.

With one hand gripped in his hair, her other silences her own screams as she stands over a man eating her off the bone.

"Mmm, Lucius! P-Please mercy." She lets a quiet plead escape her covered lips.

"Aren't I merciful? Aren't I good to you?" Lifting up for air he taunts as his digits rapidly finger fuck her. Cassia combusts. Biting her full bottom lip to keep her from screaming only draws the taste of her own blood and doesn't silence her orgasm one bit.

Her knees give way and Cassia comes crashing down into the water on Lucius' lap. She tries to moan and breathe after reaching ecstasy but Lucius won't let her share it without him. A snatch to her throat brings her closely to him as he tongue kisses her and gives her the taste of her cunt, the taste of their Earth shattering sex.

"It isn't fair." Cassia becomes tearful with heartbroken complaint.

Too horny from feeling Cassia's weight now in his lap, Lucius hushes her. "Don't stop kissing me. I need your kiss sweet Cassia, just don't stop."

She tries her best to keep her tears from coming, but she just can't. Cassia loves this man and he needs to know it. "What you do to me is cruel."

He notices her displeasure and caresses her heated face. "Let me wipe your tears my sweet, why do you cry?"

"I want to be forever yours." She admits. "I wish you to just love me!"

Lucius sighs in heartbreak. "Cassia please, you promised that what we had would be enough."

"And now it's not!" ...Cassia goes on to confess something that has happened recently. "Lucius, I fear the day, I fear every day. The twin emperors have taken a liking to me."

His eyes widen as he sits up higher in the tub. "You let them lay eyes upon you? Knowing the beauty that you hold?!"

Cassia scoffs with tearful rolling eyes. "Why is it that you care?"

"I worry for your safety, your well-being!" Lucius exclaims in steadfast fear. "Answer me, my flower, please."

She sniffs her tears back. "When we met it wasn't on purpose. Their carriage rode past me as I picked healing herbs at the street market. They had their men stop in their tracks to speak with me."

"Fuck." Lucius slowly begins to worry, knowing that the twin emperors are evil and dangerous to all of their loyal subjects. "What did they want?"

"Me."

Cassia's admission causes him to sigh. How is Lucius to protect her from the most powerful when he is only a gladiator?

Cassia continues. "They asked about which household I come from, and when I spoke of my family's last name, the gawking continued. When I spoke of being Macrinus' niece, their eyes grew as if they had already heard about me... As if my uncle has put up a dowry and has already offered me to them... they looked at me as if they knew me and I was already theirs."

"Lucius, I'm scared. I won't have it. In Rome I have no duties to anyone but myself. I am a free woman. I won't be their whore to lay down with when they feel, or their pretty little servant to fan them when they are feverish! I won't be like those girls." Her panic escalates.

"The twin emperors don't take kindly to denial." Lucius is at a loss of ideas. If they do end up coming for her, she'll either be theirs or she'll be raped and murdered.

"And so I'll kill myself." Cassia stands on what she means. "I've seen how they treat their women... Emperor Caracalla is simple minded from his contagious disease of syphilis gone from his loins to his brain and Emperor Geta is pure evil. In their ownership I'll become diseased and tortured."

The pain of imagining Cassia take her own life is sharper than a knife.

For a moment, Lucius closes his eyes and asks the Gods for their help. With eyes shut, he feels a wind pass him and begins to hear an echo in the room of a woman's voice.

Always having had belief in the Gods and higher powers, Lucius really focuses in to what they are trying to tell him.

The voice becomes more clear, and his soul shudders in disbelief. The voice is of his late wife Arishat... Her spirit has come back to speak to him.

"Free her." Arishat repeats. "You must free her."

Lucius opens his eyes, lightly trembling in disbelief that the Gods allowed him to actually be able to hear his wife's voice one more time.

He knows what to do now. Lucius knows just how to free Cassia of all her worry.

He needs to win. Lucius must continue with his victories so he can become free to take Cassia as his bride before something dangerous happens to her. A reason that even his late wife understands and finds necessary instead of disrespectful. Arishat spoke to him, she wants him to save the innocent and there is no one more innocent than the sweet Cassia of Rome, Italy.

Not only will he love her in return, but he will give her comfort and protection for the rest of her life.

"I'll fix this Cassia, don't you worry one bit. I just need you to keep a low profile until next week, then it will be all over. Can you do that for me?" With one gladiator battle left, Lucius is determined to win his freedom and hers.

Cassia nods as she rests against his chest. She lays all of her trust onto him. She knows that Lucius would never hurt her and whatever his plan may be, she can trust it.

Lucius lifts her bridal style out of the water as they quietly escape the bathhouse and enter his chamber in their bare skin.

Only a dimly lit candle lights his private room, yet as he lays Cassia on his mattress, she is still the brightest and prettiest thing he's ever laid eyes on.

Cassia yawns sweetly, already prepared to stay the night in Lucius' arms tonight.

"Why do you stare at me like that?" She blinks her tired eyes, warming Lucius with love as he watches her long broom like lashes sweep her cheeks.

He continues to stare and Cassia begins to fear that he has noticed her weight gain... That he has noticed her pregnancy. "No really, why do you stare?"

"I can't get enough of you Cassia." He admits. "Have you performed a love spell on me with your herbs?"

Feeling less insecure now that she knows her secret is still safe with her, she begins to chuckle. "Maybe."

"As good as it feels, all I ask is for you to continue it." Heated once more for a taste and feel of her, Lucius makes Cassia eyes grow in size as blood rushes and lifts his cock.

"My love, I'm hungry for you." His voice becomes starved, desperate, and dangerous. "When I take you tonight, I want to ravage you. Will you allow it?"

Cassia gulps with nervousness. Yet her endorphins already release from just the thought of being spent and beaten across his cock tonight. She nods yes with haste, earnest and yearning to feel his intense and massive dominance in any and every way imaginable.

Lucius steps closer to his soon to be wife, grasping a hold of her, and excited to toss her around like a rag-doll through the many late hours of the night. "Then say no more."

———

As promised, a low profile has been kept.

Cassia spends the last week hidden under her cloak and even venturing out to the streets dressed as a man. Today is Lucius' last battle and she can't tell what she's feeling in her stomach as she's on the way to visit him before the Colosseum fills with people.

It could be love butterflies, maybe even her growing babe, or even scarier... a bad feeling about today's battle.

A battle that supposed to end it all. Is Lucius capable of doing it? Will it all play out smoothly? Or will it end in disaster?

As Cassia enters the bottom of the Colosseum, gladiators dress in armor as they prepare for their own battles. Being that they are all supportive and appreciative of Lucius making a way for them, they all are kind and treat Cassia as a queen, all secretly knowing that she and Lucius have been together for a year now.

She searches through the sea of men down below until she spots hers. Lucius prepares himself for battle however can't help but smile when he catches a glimpse of his lady.

Excited to hear about his plan after a week of patiently waiting, Cassia runs inside his chamber and greets her lover with a hug. Lucius swirls her, taken from off her feet he places the most sincere kiss on Cassia's lips.

Seeing stars and feeling foreworks, Cassia catches her breath as her face blushes a gentle scarlet. "What was that for?" She giggles sweetly.

"Because, I love you." Lucius finally admits it. "And I can finally say it back now that I'm making you mine forever. Cassia, take this ring and place it on my finger as I do the same with yours. When I win today, marry me. Marry me so you can leave here and never let Rome and the horrible people in it bring you to tears again."

"Will you?" He asks. "Will you marry me?"

A million pounds of stress releases from her shoulders. After today, she'll be a man's wife. No more threats from her uncle, and no more ill fitting suitors sniffing around her.

"These rings..." She stares puzzled. "How did you—"

"Don't even stress it." Lucius smiles. "I have my ways, I needed to make it happen, and so I did."

Nearing tears she places the large jewel on his finger and watches as he does the same to hers. "I'll marry you, it is all I've ever wanted."

"Gladiator!" A guard shouts for Lucius. "Don't you hear the crowd? You're up!"

"This is it." Lucius gently rubs Cassia's back as she lays on his chest listening to his strong beating heart. "The finish line is just up there, but you have to let me go."

She grabs hold of him tightly. "But wait! Lucius... today out of all days, I'm frightened."

"What are you frightened of my love?" He frowns. "It's a gut feeling." Cassia continues. "Maybe just anxiety. But aren't you scared that you've made it this far, and you could be murdered in front of thousands today?"

Lucius grins and gently kisses Cassia on her full lips, glossed in delicate rose oil. "Pick up the sword."

Cassia looks towards the stone wall and the glisten of Lucius' sword nearly blinds her. Her hand trembles as she reaches for the same blade that has been killing men since the beginning of Lucius' season. As she grasps it, it's nearly impossible to lift as if it weighs five hundred pounds. "It— It's too heavy!"

Easing behind her, Lucius places a hand on her hip and another around her hand as he helps lift the sword above their heads.

"Do you see that?" His whisper in her ear and down her neck could make Cassia melt. "I lug that around in the arena like it is as light as a pigeon's feather... Do you think that a man who plans on losing could do something like that?"

Cassia gulps. "No."

"Exactly, and I don't plan on losing." Lucius sets the sword down and lets both of his arms coddle Cassia from behind. "Hush your fears, my sweet. It's all over now."

Cassia turns slightly over her shoulder and accepts his kiss, a kiss she wishes never to end.

Time runs out and Lucius must leave to his last battle before earning the wooden sword and his freedom. He throws on his armor and locks it perfectly in place. "We will celebrate over fine wine tonight my love, for after this battle I'm a free man."

Now that they will be free to leave with each other after today, Cassia feels confident that it's safe to openly speak about her pregnancy now that she knows she can't be beheaded by her uncle Macrinus anymore. "Lucius, I really wish I could, but now adays I only drink water... for the last three months at least." She stiffens in sudden fear... "Lucius? I'm pregnant."

The gladiator pauses in shock.

His eyes drop to her bosom... now finally piecing together exactly why Cassia's breasts have swollen past the limits of his fingertips when he cups them each night.

Lucius touches her womb beneath the loosely worn corset. "A baby?" He asks. "My son?"

With the baby growing in a highly raised position, Cassia is also sure that it is a boy. She gulps. "Have I disappointed you?"

"Disappointed? My love you have come to me with a gift." Joy fills Lucius' eyes as he can't keep his hands off the slight pregnancy pudge. "You, little dove, have made me the happiest man alive today."

Knowing that time has run out, Lucius is frustrated that he must leave now. However, Cassia just gave him another reason to fight harder today.

A baby boy.

Another gift sent from the Gods, and of course his guardian angel, Arishat.

Lucius begins to jog out of his chambers when suddenly he is tugged once more by Cassia.

Her eyebrows are lifted and curved in fearful worry, poor Cassia wears her heart right on her sleeves.

"Cassia?" Lucius asks. "You hold onto me as if there is something you need to say..."

She gulps before slowly loosening her grip on the greatest thing to ever happen to her. "Just, win."

Lucius smiles and nods, "I'll do more than win my dear, I'll set us free."

Leaving a kiss to the back of her hand, Lucius is finally off to his last fight as a slaved gladiator owned by the evil Macrinus.

He concurs the stairs leading out of the gladiator den and the cheering crowd can be heard for miles. His last gladiator battle, a fight to the finish.

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dumbgoondog · 25 days ago

Text

Choso Kamo Thoughts(Part 2)

Cw/Tw - Kidnapping mention, blood, lots of talk of death/dead things

Okay maybe Choso and Uraume fight for my favorite spot sometimes- SFW no smut this time.

(Also this divider eh? Pretty great huh?)

Choso who’s super into fanfics and tropes.

Choso who is SO into scary monster x freak

Choso who is sucker for beauty and the beast types of tropes

Choso who loves enemies/rivals to lovers

Choso who dissociates and imagines himself in these scenarios with someone/you

Choso who realizes he could just kidnap someone/you, but this is reality and maybe that wouldn’t go over like the stories do…

Choso who definitely has OCs, he feels like an eldritch horror oc type, old France style. High gothic

(Should I make a thang for his ocs and his stories for them?)

Choso who likes disturbing media. Not media that’s illegal or supports illegal things but things like the game Pathologic, I Have No Mouth and I Must Scream, Clinical Trials, Bad Parenting, Fear and Hunger, Visage, Oxide Room 104… he’s not trying to be edgy he’s just fascinated by these things.

Pull up an image of Kenjaku, I’ll wait, just real quick for me. You see his dumb little smile? Them stitches? Good. Now, did you know Autism can be hereditary? Choso and Yuji both. Choso is sensitive to stimuli, Yuji is Hyposensitive to stimuli. I could see Yuji havin ADHD with or by itself but honestly looking at his character in depth he displays way more autistic traits than ADHD, I think he’s just excitable which makes me want to say ADHD but that’s diminishing. Unlearning ableism one step at a time. Anywayyyy

(I’ll totally go in depth about why I think Kenjaku, Choso, and Yuji are autistic if y’all wan)

Choso got into Pokémon because of Uraume. His team is —

Yamask, his buddy Pokémon/mascot. Not galarian. Yamask’s name is Eko.

Banette, found a shuppet thought it was cute learned the lore. Name, Maru.

Golisopod, ace in the sleeve. This tall white and purple Pokémon that’s considered creepy and powerful? He loves it.

✨Sobble✨. Sniping… piercing blood… its name is Simo, after Simo Hayha.

Dracovish, it reminds him of Kechizu! Name, Haratsu.

Male Frillish, for Eso! Of course there were better Pokémon to represent Eso but he loves the Royal floaty ghostly jellyfish, also king wing. Name, Fumihito.

He’s a big water and ghost type fan.

Choso is a BIG fan of aquariums. There’s something so special about them, something that makes him feel contemplative and at ease. He wishes he could just swim with them, that blue glow… queue “If I Am With You.”

Choso feels very lonely. His room is filled with the other death paintings and after he collected Eso and Kechizu’s bodies he cremated them and has their urns too. He feels so bad

Choso’s “space” theme is to represent the “soul”. Space is often used to represent the soul in media but also he can feel the souls of his brothers, while they’re alive, while they’re cursed objects, he feels the souls of them in him and his own soul. Another reason he and Mahito are friends.

Choso sometimes sleeps with his eyes open. It’s not good for him and very creepy.

Choso loves dark gothic musicals. Phantom of the Opera, Count of Monte Cristo, Jekyll and Hyde, The Devil’s Carnival, The Hunchback of Notredame, Beauty and The Beast, Elisabeth, Dracula… yeah you get it.

Choso has a special interest in cultural practices for the dead. Be it religious or just a group of peoples practices. Superstition even. He loves taxidermy, and skeletons. He certainly goes to graveyards and cleans the graves there.

Claymore, Beserk, Castlevania, Seraph of the End, Dororo, Black Butler, Wolf’s Rain, Elfen Lied, Perfect Blue, Vampire Hunter D, Revolutionary Girl Utena, Chaika The Coffin Princess - A list of Anime and Manga Choso wants to watch and or read.

Choso is 6’3-4”(194cm), I am making this up, this is NOT official, I’m basing it off of Choso being a bit taller than Geto/Kenjaku.

#dogs tag #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #x reader #jujustsu kaisen x reader #headcanon #choso kamo #jjk choso #choso x reader #jujutsu kaisen choso #jjk mahito #jjk kenjaku #yuji itadori #jjk eso #jjk kechizu #jjk yuji

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sparklecarehospital · 9 months ago

Note

If Barry Is a self insert for you, And Barry is vegan, Are you vegan?

I am not vegan. Barry was *originally* a self insert when I first made him, but now he's just a separate character I project on and relate to/kin. It's weird, but most of the characters I project onto/kin are basically nothing like me in personality or the way they behave and interact with others. The things I project are varied and complicated and it's not as simple as "this character is exactly like me" because none of them really are.

A lot of them are often act angry (like Ally for example), but in actuality I'm an extremely quiet and sensitive person that has a tendency to let people walk all over me. I think in a weird way I use it as some sort of outlet for the fact I'm tired of feeling like so weak and want to be stronger and able to get angry when I'm mistreated (which has been... often) but I'm not great at feeling anger in general about my circumstances or sticking up for myself. Weird way of venting I guess? Idk what to call it

I think the main OC kin I have that actually acts the most like me is probably Cream, and even then she has some traits that are a bit removed from myself and I don't even consider her a self insert or anything. I have ARFID and I'm objectum and I have the same sort of excitable nature. Sly is most like me in terms of things she does, being a furry artist and loving old internet/nostalgia stuff and her intrusive thoughts and dysphoria. Eve is most like me in terms of most interests and trauma (AND EVEN THAT IS VERY FICTIONALIZED). It's complicated!

#sort of a personal anecdote #but i felt like sharing #answers

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hurricane-tsunemasu · 27 days ago

Text

“…Hi. My name is Hayami, and i’m a transfer student from Hokkaido. I hope we can all get along.”

✦ Basic Oc info:

Name: Hayami Tsunemasu

Nicknames: Tsune, Ami

Age: 17

Height: 5’10

Birthplace: Hokkaido, Japan

Gender/pronouns: Intersex, He/they/it

Personality: Quiet, closed off, short tempered, blunt, antisocial, abrasive

Year two, class 2 student at PK Academy, transfer from hokkaido

Hayami is suspected to be a psychic who uses atmokinesis(has control over the weather) but that is simply speculation from people from his previous school. These are just rumours.

✦ Tags:

#Hayami Yaps - Hayami post

#Forecast - Hayami reblogs

#Calm before the storm - Answering asks

#Hayami forgot his umbrella - Rp starters

#Socialising - Rp tag

#Tsunemasu lore - lore tag

#Stag posting - mod posts

#Stag found this - mod reblogs

#Stag answers - mod asks

#Stags silly scribbles - Mod art / writings

Any sensitive topics will be tagged accordingly

!!Ooc and character description below the cut!!

✦ Blog info:

Hayami is an oc for The Disastrous Life Of Saiki K :)

You might know Hayami as ⛈️ anon :3 (yay i made the blog after kicking my anxiety in the ass!!)

I would like to keep this blog to be strictly 16+ with no NSFW. Hayami is a minor!! Silly flirting and jokes are fine, but anything i deem too far will be deleted!

Mod is a self shipper, and is open to (platonic and romantic only) multishipping!

Mod uses he/him pronouns, and you can refer to me as Stag!!

Mod follows from @transfrogwithcoolsocks

Mod has insane social anxiety so i apologise if i come off as awkward or rude (i’m just a little guy)

Mod has the worst memory known to mankind, so if i send multiple asks it is because i forgot that i already sent one(i am sorrgy)

Any photos i use in posts will be found on Pinterest.

My other RP blogs are: @canineriot-fenrir @meet-the-trapper-tf2 @redhead-string-shredder @crutches-n-stitches @ultimate-exorcist-chyrche @darling-idol-hoshiko @dutch-bunny-rabbit @stupid-fishbait-moray @aussie-menace-dingo @kerosene-n-gasoline @lt-morse @psychic-rosewood

✦ Rp info:

Rp will look like this:

[Actions and such go here]

“Talking will be like this”

✦ Physical description of Hayami:

Hayami is 5’10, and has a slim physique, looking quite feminine and androgynous due to his build.

His face is angular and sharp, their eyes are mustard yellow and always look bored or irritated, with some slight eye bags underneath.

Hayami has long dark green hair that reaches its back. He keeps the bangs swept to the side, and the sides of their head shaved.

It’s usual attire consists of a mixture of the PK academy uniform, a white shirt teal gakuran or cardigan(depending on the day), teal skirt with mismatched pattern socks and black loafers. He wears some silver hairclips in their hair, and some bead bracelets.

When it is not in school, their usual clothes consist of baggy jeans or cargo shorts, baggy graphic Tshirtd and hoodies, comfortable boots or trainers, leg warmers or long socks and a sheepskin jacket during cold weather.

✦ Interact list:

Please do interact:

Mob psycho 100 Rp blogs

Rp blogs in general

Anons

Mob psycho ocs

Other ocs(from any fandom!)

Nice people

Do not interact:

Basic DNI

Pedophiles

Transphobes/homophobes

Racists

Creeps

(Some tags just so I don’t flop. Sorry for the bother!!)

@m33t-m1k0t0 @trainwithhairo @myeyesarebiggerthanmybladder @totallynotapsychic @angelwinkteruhashi @thejetblackwing @motorbikelover101 @goldenboymetori @plzgivefood @anpu-will-steal-the-show @psychicdelicz

#saiki k oc #the disastrous life of saiki k.#oc rp #oc intro #roleplay intro #rp resources #the disastrous life of saiki k oc #saiki no psi nan #saiki k rp blog #rp askblog #rp ask blog

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please-be-nice-im-sensitive · 6 months ago

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Hello!!!!

Spotify is the same username :)

Sideblogs:

@cowboy-iliad-au dedicated to the cowboy Iliad au and the lore I wrote for it

@hoziest-noodle dedicated to my love of Hozier

@alcmetus dedicated to Alcestis and Admetus my beloved

@leucothea-helper-of-sailers dedicated to the goddess Leucothea :)

@daisynoodleprincess dedicated to Greek mythology character designs I like

@greekmythologyfamilytreeupdates dedicated to updates on my Greek mythology family tree

@daisydaisysmiles my blog of things that make me happy

and the list of my OC specific blogs click here and for all my OC content go to my pinned tags and click the tag OC :)

to campaigns: I will share, but I can’t donate. I am very sorry. I wish I could help.

I don’t chat with strangers other than in very short conversations

be kind to each other please!!!

no hate, just love please I don’t understand posting anti things because it’s hatred. But I will respect your opinion as long as you don’t hate on things I post. Please loves just be nice

I mostly reblog and am NOT an artist so if something is tagged under “my art” on my page, please tell me so I can fix it. It is definitely an accident

I’m a bi cis girl who uses she/her pronouns. I will respect your preferences and block those who don’t.

i loveeeee patrochilles and am getting into the classics fandom. I am not against retelling of myths as long as it’s not completely unreasonably inaccurate. I am NEW to the classics fandom so if I get something wrong please correct me!! (This applies for whatever I say)

I am very sensitive but I try to be as nice as possible but I can mess up with that sometimes because sometimes I can accidentally come across as rude and I want you to know loves that there is a 99% chance it was an accident and I will apologize!!

Achievements on this website so far:

being rated lawful good by postalignments!! @postalignments at this post: https://www.tumblr.com/postalignments/761731492738170880/i-think-i-put-my-previous-ask-on-anonymous-by?source=share

being told I’m going to heaven by @imjesus because of this post: https://www.tumblr.com/im-jesus/762726772724908032/happy-song-recommendations-someone-you-like?source=share

oh btw I may post a few political things and I consider myself progressive so: No hate to anyone at all or you will be blocked <3

btw loves, I’ve been considered good at song recommendations so if you need song advice for tropes or moods or characters in the fandoms I’m in feel free to dm me or send me an ask

sorry that was long and if you’re still reading, have a great day loves!!

P.S, here’s a depression tip for when you’re home alone!!

Top ten obsessions

(Irl things excluded)

1. When people are nice to me

2. Leucothea

3. Patrochilles

4. History facts

5. Paintings

6. Epic the musical

7. Pasta

8. Music

9. Making playlists

10. Helping people (I am very much a mom friend)

I LOVE ASKS omg :) also I post a lot of ask games sooo

47 notes · View notes

theereina · 5 months ago

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Big Mama Pt. 5

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Plus Size Fem Black!OC

Wordcount: +7.4K 🤦🏽‍♀️

Warnings: MDNI (18+) mature content, such as cursing, teasing, heavily dialogue-centered, use of pet names (Daddy, Mama, lil' mama, pretty girl, good boy, etc.), angst, P in V, oral (female receiving), Dom!Terry, CNC (roleplay fantasy "r-word")

Big Mama Pt. 1 => 🦋

Big Mama Pt. 2 => 🦋

Big Mama Pt. 3 => 🦋

Big Mama Pt. 4 => 🦋

6 months later ~ Halloween night

“Girl, why the fuck does this man have y'all stayin’ way the fuck out here?” Monica asked while driving. “That's the point. He knows I love the country. Plus, it so fuckin’ peaceful out here,” I said laughing. “’Vana, this is a serial killer's dream. Two black people in the middle of nowhere!” she blurted.

Tonight, we all went to a Halloween party as a group— Monica, Jordan, Terry, and I. The party was thrown at a warehouse downtown. It was fuckin' amazing. I had never had that much fun before. Terry even seemed to really enjoy himself, but he got sick at some point. He let me know that he was leaving early. I offered to go with him, but he declined. After he left, I tried my best to have fun but couldn't stop worrying about him. He wasn't answering my calls or texts which was strange.

I leaned over while sitting in the car. I unstrapped my heels and pulled them off. I was wearing a sexy schoolgirl costume that left nothing to the imagination. We agreed to dress up as a couple with Terry being a nerdy school professor. Our costumes made much more sense when we stood near each other, so I spent most of the night by his side.

Monica drove down the gravel driveway of the large farmhouse. Pulling to the front porch, I realized all the lights were off. It was eerily quiet— almost too quiet. Terry must have actually been sick if he had gone to bed this early. Monica's car came to a stop. She looked out into the field and stared at the barn. “This really is some serial killer type shit!” she said shaking her head. “Shut up!” I said laughing at her remarks. Monica was definitely on edge.

“I'm so done with you,” I said grabbing my heels before getting out of the car. “Just call me or text me. I wanna make sure you're safe. This shit so creepy,” she said scrunching up her nose and looking around. “Okay, scaredy cat,” I said leaning back into the window tickling her neck. “Terry is big and all, but not Texas Chainsaw Massacre big. Be safe!” she said. “Goodnight, whore!” I yelled as I turned and started walking towards the porch. I walked up the steps with the heels swinging in my hand. The front door was left unlocked because Terry had the only key. I opened the door and walked in.

I looked around the open living room in search of Terry. “Terry, baby? Where are you?” I yelled as I turned towards the hallway. Before I could move, I saw something flash across the large floor-to-ceiling window in the living room. I couldn't tell if it was a light or a reflection. I stood there for a second to see if it would happen again. Nothing. I shrugged my shoulders and proceeded to walk up the stairs. I was approaching the master bedroom door when I noticed a stain on the floor. It was a puddle of dark liquid. I couldn't tell what it was, but it smelled metallic. I leaned over in front of the door and hovered over the puddle. It looked like— blood.

I leaned up and quickly backed away from the door. I dropped the heels and held my chest. I turned back towards the stairs. I instantly wanted to flee but realized I didn't know where Terry was. “Terry, please. If this is a joke, this a fuckin' sick one!” I yelled from the top of the stairs. I turned back to look at the bedroom door. What if he was in there hurt? Shit!

I slowly walked back up to the door. I placed my hand on the doorknob and turned it slowly. I opened the door slightly peeking around. “Terry,” I said whispering into the room, “I don't like this.” I walked into the room, staying close to the door. I walked towards the center of the room facing the bed. The master bathroom door was cracked open with the light on. There was a smaller puddle at the bottom of this door. I wasn't liking this at all. My anxiety was pushing my heart through my chest. Every breath was feeling like swallowing razor blades. I inched closer to the door as panic was setting in. What if Terry was on the other side of this door? What if he was hurt, what if he was dead?

As I approached the door, I noticed faint marks leading from the puddle and into the bathroom— drag marks. No! I tried my hardest to level my breathing. I placed my hand on the door and pushed it open slowly. I opened the door to find blood splatter all over the bathroom and the tub covered in it. I almost screamed but covered my mouth. I started to back out of the bathroom. My foot stepped into the puddle by the bathroom door, soaking the bottom of my stockings. Tears were starting now.

As I lifted my foot to remove the stockings, there was a loud thud at the bedroom window. I didn't want to look out, but I had to know if it was Terry. I slowly crossed the room. The window had no blinds just a sheer white curtain. I pushed the curtain open lightly to peek but hopefully not be seen. I looked out towards the field at the rear of the house. That's when I saw him— a man. He was holding an axe over his shoulder. He looked like a lumberjack. THIS WASN'T TERRY! I stumbled away from the window unsure of what I just saw. There was no way this was happening. We didn't come way out here for this shit! I slowly leaned back towards the window to look again. This time I didn't touch the curtains.

He was still there, but his head was tilted up facing the window this time. The axe was resting by his side. He slowly raised the axe and slung it onto his shoulder. I could see there was something in his other hand. Before I could investigate further, he pointed towards the window. He could see me! He raised his hand above his hand and slung whatever was in his hand at the window. I ducked behind the wall. The object hit the window with a splat.

I eased away from the window to see blood splatter dripping down. I backed up towards the bed while still facing the window. Holding my chest, I tried to sort out what was going on. Then, I heard the sound of heavy boots thumping on the back porch. He was closer now. That's when I remembered the backdoor couldn't be locked from the inside. Terry had told me this earlier that day. But if the door couldn't be locked, he could just—. Before I could finish my thoughts, I heard the backdoor open and slam against the wall. The last place I wanted to be was in the room he last saw me in because this would be the first place he searched.

So, I slipped out of the bedroom door and hid in the guest room. I could hear his footsteps hitting the stairs as I closed the door. The closer he got; the louder it became. He paused at the top of the stairs. I heard his footsteps lead towards the room I left. While holding my breath, I heard him slowly open and close the door. I instantly began weighing out all my options. I could hide here like the typical dumbass— under the bed, in the closet, or behind a door. Or, I could sneak and hide somewhere else before he sees me.

Fuck it! I was trying my luck with the second option.

I stood near the door and slowly opened it. Peeking out into the empty hallway towards the other room, I turned around and tried to close the door slowly so it didn't creak. I turned back around and began tip-toeing towards the top of the stairs. Before I could get far, I noticed the bathroom door in the hallway open. I had this odd feeling that I was being watched. I didn't want to look, but I was too afraid to make any sudden movements. I pressed my back against the railing while closely watching the opening and the bedroom door of the room I left.

As soon as I reached the banister, I felt a presence behind me. I was right! He had never gone into the bedroom. He rushed from the open bathroom, coming straight towards me. He tossed the axe to the opposite hand with ease. The mask he wore covered his head entirely, so I couldn't see his hair, face, or eyes. I tried to run away from him, but he managed to grab the back of my top. I yanked away from him, causing it to rip. I stumbled down the stairs with him close behind me.

I knew better than to run out the backdoor. There was nothing but acres of open fields. The kitchen wasn't an option either as it was in the back of the home. I ran towards the front door, leaping off the porch. I sprinted for the barn across from the house. It was far, but I had a better chance of finding a weapon to use. The barn door was open. There wasn't an ounce of light inside. Fuck it! It was too late to turn back now. I ran into the barn and hid behind a mountain of hay.

He was cocky. He didn't even run after me; he casually walked. He treated this like it was an everyday encounter. There wasn't an ounce of worry in his demeanor. His shoulders were squared, and his stance was wide. He stood at the barn entrance, searching for any signs of where I went. He knew I was in here.

He rolled his shoulders and neck. He swung the axe back and forth at his side. He turned around, facing the barn door. He walked to the side and pulled the handle for the door. He slid it across the entrance. He was sealing me inside. There was nowhere to run, but the other door. It was closed, but I only needed an opportunity to run and enough gap to squeeze through.

Walking to the corner, he pulled a metal chain across the bar on the door and locked it. Now, I was LOCKED in. I had to get to that back door. I looked around me, but there was nothing. Had I really gotten locked in here with nothing to defend myself?

I eased along the slide of the bales, trying not to make a sound. I was short enough to stay concealed as I moved. I made it to the other end of the barn before he made another move. He was at one end and I was at the other. I realized that I could go for the door. It didn't look too heavy for me to pull.

All I had to do was get to the door, push it open enough to slip through and run. That's it.

I stood as close as I could to the wall. I took a silent deep breath. I peeked around to make sure he was still on the opposite side. I slipped past the hay and ran for the door. I could see him turn to face me. I grabbed the handle and pulled it as hard as I could. It wouldn't budge. I tried to push it again and again. Nothing.

I turned around to see him walking towards me. Oh no! That's when I heard it— the sound of a chain. This door was locked from the outside. There was no way I had just done this. I kept pulling at the door. I flattened my back against it, turning to face him. He wasn't moving any closer. He stood in the middle of the barn with the axe over his shoulder. I knew for a fact that I couldn't outrun him. So, what do I do?

“Please, just leave me alone. My boyfriend's here somewhere!” I yelled holding my arms in front of my stomach. He barked out the most sinister laugh I had ever heard, before stopping abruptly and going silent. “He's dead, you dumb bitch! You didn't get that from the mess upstairs!” he yelled. The world around me began to spin. He had said the quiet part out loud. Terry was dead, and I just didn't want to believe it. “What? I gotta show you his body for you to believe me?” he said walking closer. “No!” I yelled. “No!” he yelled mocking me, “You sound fuckin' pathetic.” I was crying even harder now. No amount of breathwork or grounding would save me from this. I was about to die, and there was nothing I could do to stop it. “So, is this the part where you run again, huh? Save yourself the trouble, pretty girl. Just come here!” he said pointing in front of him using the axe. “Fuck… fuck you!” I said crying.

His body stiffened immediately. His hand gripped the handle of the axe tighter. “I said to c’mere. Right the fuck now!” he barked. I stood where I was frozen in fear. “If I gotta come getchu or you make me chase you, so help me God!” he spat. I pushed away from the door while slowly walking towards him. I had to try something.

As I moved closer to him, I shifted my path to the side of him. I didn't want to get close to him, but did I have a choice? I stopped a few feet from him so I was out of reach. “You do know that if I swing this fuckin' axe I can still hit you?” he said frankly. I looked between us. He was telling the truth. I wasn't stopping shit. If he wanted to get me, he still could. “Come on, pretty girl. Help me, help you. Stand right here,” he said in a calmer tone.

I still didn't move— I couldn't. No matter what I did right now? I was going to die anyway.

I looked down at my feet. “Is it the axe, baby girl? Tell me,” he said tilting his head. I looked up at the axe and trailed my eyes up to his face. I could sense that he was staring at me. “Look at me, lil’ mama!” he snapped. He seemed agitated with my antics, but I didn't know what to do. He was tall and appeared muscular. My short thick ass couldn't outrun him or fight him.

He waved the axe around wildly, slinging it away. It soared through the air and landed on the barn’s upper level. “See. I'm nice,” he said raising his hands. They were empty, but I wasn't stupid. I knew a man like this didn't need weapons when his hands could do damage and kill.

I wasn't any less scared, but oh well. I walked towards him slowly, holding my breath. Once I was in arm's reach, he grabbed my shirt by the knot in the front. It tore in half. He yanked it from my body, exposing my black push-up bra. I threw my hands up to cover my chest. He smacked my hand down. “Move your fuckin' hands!” he yelled, raising his hand as if he were about to hit me again. “I fuckin' dare you!” he grunted through gritted teeth. I dropped my hands by my side, waiting for whatever was coming. Why wasn't he doing anything?

“What do you really want?” I asked. I was tired of this sicko's games. “Does it fuckin' matter? It's not like you got anywhere to go,” he said laughing. He was faking his composure. He wasn't calm at all. His hands were flexing and his shoulders were tensing up by the second. Why did I let Terry talk me into coming out here?

“Arghhh… If you don't fuckin' move!” he yelled. Fear took over, causing me to take a step back. “You know what fuck that?” he said pulling out a pair of leather gloves from his back pocket. He pulled them over his hands and wiggled his fingers. His hands filled the gloves perfectly. He closed the gap between us in two quick steps. His chest was right in front of my face.

I dropped my head. There was no point in running. “Just do it already!” I yelled hitting him in the chest repeatedly. He stood there and took every hit. His body didn't move an inch. Nothing I was doing was even affecting this man. Angered because I was tired of being toyed with, I pushed him in his chest. He shifted a little. I pushed him again. He shifted back a little more. Before I could push him a third time, he grabbed my hands. He held my hands above my head. “Stupid girl. Was that fun for you? Aww, you're fighting the big bad man. How cute?” he said mocking me.

He released my arms. I looked down and rubbed my wrists. I was caught off guard by his hand wrapping around my throat. He lifted my body from the ground and pushed me against one of the posts on the barn. “If you ever put your fuckin' hands on me again, I'll snap your fuckin' neck! Understand?” he grumbled. His teeth were grinding, and his grip was tightening. “Yes!” I managed to squeal out. “That's what the fuck I thought!” he yelled, releasing his grip.

My body hit the ground with a thud. I held my neck. I was sure there was a mark or a bruise. I was leaning over on one side. He squatted down so that he was right in front of me. Reaching to touch my face, he stroked my cheek and wiped my tears. “You're too pretty to be cryin’, girl,” he said tilting his head to one side. He was just hovering over me stroking my cheek. It was as if he was in a trance. I took in a deep breath. He let his hand roam my body. First, he groped my breast. Then, he caressed my stomach. This didn't feel right. Why was he all of a sudden being so gentle— too gentle?

His hand went lower and stopped at the top of my skirt. He looked back up at me while his hand moved down to my thighs. He pushed my skirt up and began dragging his hand along my thighs. “Damn, I know he’ll miss this,” he said moving his hand up towards my pussy. I clamped my thighs shut. No way was he about to touch me there. His face shot up in my direction. One of his hands shot up and slapped me across the face. “Don’t fuckin’ try me!” he said grabbing my chin. Even though I couldn’t see his eyes, I could tell his gaze was locked on my face.

While still gripping my chin and focusing on my face, his hand began moving again. His hand stalled and rested on top of my pussy. He hooked his pointer and index fingers around the crotch of my panties, tugging them a little. He tore them off my body, and I screamed as the fabric scratched against my skin.

I kicked him in the chest as hard as I could. He grabbed my ankle and yanked me towards him. I tried to find something to grab onto, failing miserably. My palms burned from being pulled through the dirt. “Stop, or else!” he screamed, holding my legs down. “Fuck you! If you're going to do it, do it! Bitch!” I yelled slapping him across the face.

I turned over onto my stomach and began attempting to crawl away. He grabbed the back of my legs, pulling me back towards him. I managed to snatch one leg away. He leaned forward and jumped onto my back. His hands flew to the back of my head, pulling my hair so my back was flush to his chest. “Yell! Scream! Go ahead! Nobody can hear you, dumbass!” he said in my ear, yanking my head up. “Let me go!” I screamed.

I couldn't keep fighting him. As much as I didn't want to admit it, I knew only one of us would walk away from this, and it wouldn't be me. “You don't like living do you?” he said pushing me to the ground. My face hit the dirt. A metallic taste flooded my mouth— blood. I lifted my hand and wiped my mouth. I turned over, sitting on my butt. I pushed on my hands to get up. “Sit!” he screamed, knocking me back. I was tired of this shit. I wanted no part of this stupid ass game he was playing.

I pulled my knees into my chest and began crying. “Hell, nah! Shut the fuck up! The fuck is cryin’ gonna do?” he asked while grabbing the back of my head. He used his grip on my hair to pull me down before straddling me. “You know what? Maybe I was wrong. I like the way you look when you cry. Soft. Sweet. Defenseless. Scared. Yeah, I think I like this,” he said cupping my left breast. His hand wandered to my left bra strap. He pushed it down slowly before doing the same to the other side. “Take it off slowly. No need to rush. We got all night,” he said low. I didn't move. What was the point of doing what he said? Prolonging my ending life seemed futile.

He reached behind him and pulled out a hunter's knife. I stared at the blade, tensing up. I placed my hands on his chest, trying to push him away. He grabbed my hands in one of his and held them above my head. He twirled the knife in his hand before pressing it into the front of my neck. The adrenaline in my body was pumping, and my ears were ringing. “Just do it!” I yelled, sobbing. His focus shifted back to my face. I could almost see his features spread into a smile through the mask. “Okay!” he said laughing. I felt the knife leave my skin. The presence of the blade still lingering behind.

With a heavy heart, I closed my eyes. I waited and waited. Every breath seemed to bring me closer to my last. I felt his grip on my hands tighten but still nothing. What was he doing? I wanted to close my eyes but was too afraid of what I might see.

I felt the knife glide across my stomach. I felt the blade rest on the fabric between my bra cups.

rip

He sliced through the front of my bra and began making quick work of the straps as well. I opened my eyes to see him peeling the pieces from my body. My exposed nipples hardened from the crispness of the Autumn air. He raised the knife to my chest, sliding it across my nipples. The cold blade stimulated the sensitive buds. I squirmed underneath him. This was feeling— I don't know. Was I enjoying this, or was my fear driving me insane?

I moved my hands and twisted my wrists. “No,” I whimpered. “No? You sure, pretty girl? I bet if I rubbed my hand through that pussy of yours, she'd be sayin' something else! Wouldn't she?” he said putting the knife back behind him. “Just…,” I said trying to tug away again. It must have annoyed him because it earned me another slap to the face. “Quit the bullshit, baby! Let's see!” he said, placing his hands on the button of my skirt. He unbuttoned and unzipped it quickly. While grabbing both sides of the zipper, he easily tore the mini skirt in half. “Clean! I like that. You came prepared for me, huh?” he said rubbing the mound of my pussy. The fabric of his leather gloves was like ice against my skin. He scooted back on his knees a little so that he was straddling my thighs more than my waist. He stuffed his hand between my legs, palming my pussy. He cupped his hand, trailing it through my folds. He dragged his hand up and down my slit, grazing my clt each time.

I was shocked by what I saw when he pulled his hand out. Cum! What the hell was going on? “Oh! That's lovely,” he said bringing the wet glove closer to his face mask. He drew in a deep breath. “Now, I might not be the smartest man but that looks like arousal to me. Don't it?” he said bringing the glove to my face. “ Yes… no… I don't fuckin' know!” I yelled. “You might wanna admit it, baby. You like this, huh? You dirty slut!” he said stuffing his fingers into my mouth. I gagged at the force.

“Don't say shit! Just suck!” he said, leaning over me. His face was right in front of mine. I could feel the warmth of his breath through the mask. I opened my mouth wider, telling myself to just do it. I sucked on the glove lightly. “You can do better than that! Come on! The better you perform; the longer you may live. Make me proud,” he said, leaning up.

I sucked on the glove again— a little harder this time. He let his finger roam inside my mouth. I let my tongue slither around each finger, causing his dick to jump. I felt it move against my thigh. I looked down to see a tent growing in his jeans. Shit, it was big! Oh, no. I couldn't be thinking like this. What would Terry think of me?

“Don't worry you'll see it soon!” he said drawing my attention back to him. I realized that I had been unconsciously sucking on his fingers. He pulled the glove from my mouth and smeared my saliva all over my face and lips. “Sloppy. I like it!” he said, lightly tapping my cheek. “Imma let yo’ hands go. Don't do no stupid shit, okay?” he said. I nodded my head yes. What the fuck could I possibly do in this situation?

He released my hands. I instantly pulled them to my chest and began rubbing my wrists. “I'm sowwy. I shouldn't have been so rough when you're so soft and…” he said trailing his hands down my chest to cup both of my breasts. The material of the gloves felt smooth against my nipples, causing me to let out a soft moan. He broke from his trance and focused on my face again. I know he heard it. Why was I moaning from this? What the hell was going on with my body?

“Listen to me. If you promise to be nice, I'll let you live. Who knows maybe you can be my sex slave or something!” he chuckled deeply. “As if I have a choice,” I whispered turning my head. “Well, you're right about that. Shall we begin?” he asked clapping his hands. “Begin?” I asked confused. All I could see was his facial features shift under his mask. He was smiling— no he was grinning. A big sinister grin was spread across his face. He was about to enjoy whatever came next.

He lifted his hips and repositioned himself between my legs. He grabbed the back of my knees and pushed them up to my chest using one hand. With the other, he undid his belt buckle and pants. He didn't even care to pull them down completely. I watched as he grabbed his dick at the base. I immediately knew where this was going. I tried to push my legs back down, but even when using one hand he was stronger than me. He leaned over me and slapped his dick on my clit. It was heavy and hard as a brick. “Remember what I said. The better you perform…,” he said letting his thoughts trail off.

In one quick thrust, he was inside me— deep. My arms flew up trying to push his chest. “Don't do that!” he cooed. “Behave. I promise to make it worth your while,” he lulled, dodging my hands. It was like he didn't give a fuck about me fighting back. He was too focused on—. “Fine. Have it your way!” he barked.

He grabbed my hands and pinned them above my head. With his teeth, he snatched the glove from his other hand. He threw it behind him. I could feel his dick twitching inside me. He grabbed my neck and began pounding into me. I gasped for air. How was he switching back and forth like that? He was nice one second, then aggressive the next. This man was a fuckin’ psychopath.

His hips snapped into my ass. “If you want me to stop, stop me!” he laughed. I knew I couldn't. I had tried and tried again. “Come on! Do something!” he yelled in my face. I was done. My blood boiled and fear went out the window for a second. “Fuck you! Kiss my fat black ass!” I yelled pushing my thighs down as hard as I could. He falls back onto his hands. I used this as an opportunity to scramble away. “Arghhh, you stupid bitch! Tell me what’re you gonna do? Huh? You can't run. You can't hide. No one can hear you!” he yelled waving his arms around. Again, he was right. What the fuck could I do?

I sat there for a minute with my back turned away from him. I was on my knees crying into my hands. Each sob racked through my body. An idea jumped into my head— this would either kill me or save me. I didn't know what to do, but I did know what I had to do. ONE FINAL TRY.

I turned on my knees to face him. “So, you're saying that… if I… if I let you do it, you'll let me live?” I asked gasping for air in between sobs. “I'm a man of my word, love,” he said sweetly. I covered my body, waiting for his next move. “Fine! Just do it,” I said getting on my hands and knees and slowly crawling toward him. I was a few feet from him when he told me to stop. I looked up to see him twirling his finger. “Turn around. You're pretty and all, but I'm sick of your face,” he spat with disgust. I turned around and sat on my knees.

He climbed behind me. His presence alone swallowed my frame. I was a big girl, but that meant nothing right now. He pushed me forward. “Ass up, face down. Don't make me repeat myself!” he yelled smacking my ass. He was sitting between my knees with his hands by his side. I got on all fours in front of him. I heard him scoff and grunt. “Fix ya’ arch. If I gotta fix it, you're not gonna like it. Let's go!” he yelled.

I arched my back and pushed my ass into the air. Without realizing how close I was, my ass grazed his dick. He growled in response. I looked over my shoulder at him. “What the fuck did I say? I don't wanna see ya’ face. Turn around!” he yelled popping my ass again. I screamed out in pain.

“Oh, shut up! It didn't hurt!” he said laughing at me. I started to sit up, but he pushed me back down. “What you movin’ for? I'm just kiddin’,” he said playfully. This man was confusing the hell out of me. How did he expect me to react? There was nothing funny about this. I moved away from his hand before he could react. “Alright, damn! I'm sorry. You know what? No, I'm not. I'm sick of your shit, you disrespectful bitch! I’ve tried being nice to you, but you don't seem to give a fuck. Why should I?” he snapped while grabbing my hair. His other hand forced my ass to meet his hips. “We're gonna learn that attitudes don't work around here!” he said thrusting back inside of me. I could feel the thickness of his dick inside me. It was clear that this was turning him on.

I felt his hand slide up my back to my shoulder. He was pulling me back on him now. He was pounding into me like I was a sex doll. I could feel my pussy beginning to ache already. As if he could sense my discomfort, he paused. Letting go over my hair and shoulder, he placed both hands beside me. He was on top of me now. Fuck! I needed to get on my back.

He began to grind his hips into me slowly. What was he doing? He leaned over so that his mouth was near my ear. The mask was warm from his breath. “Better?” he asked seductively while fucking into me. It was as if his voice had changed, and lust had taken over. It wasn't raspy anymore. It was deep and soft— smooth like velvet. “Answer me. Is this better?” he asked, pulling his dick out to the tip. “Yes,” I moaned out. It was like I couldn't control it. It was starting to feel good. “Yeah, that's what I wanna hear,” he said, pushing his dick back in. He was kissing my cervix and bottoming out with every stroke. He was honestly fucking so well. I hated this. I wasn't supposed to enjoy this, but I couldn't help it. His dick felt amazing inside me. Every stroke felt like— love. How?

“That's right. Take it. You got it,” he said. My eyes started to roll in the back of my head as I could feel his dick swelling inside me. He leaned back up and grabbed my hips. The movement of his hips was slow and—. “Ahh, shit! Wait!” I said putting my arms out to the side. I flattened my body against the ground. I was yearning for something to grab. My hands dug into the dirt of the barn floor.

“Come on. I'm so close, baby. Fuck!” he said quickening his pace. His hips were snapping into me at this point. I could feel the gentle caress of his balls slapping my clit. “This pussy is mine!” he groaned, fisting the hair at the back of my head. He pressed my head into the floor.

As his hips shifted to pound down into me, he brought one leg up so that he was kneeling. My pussy began to clench around his dick. I could feel my climax approaching. The wetness of my pussy was working against me. He was sliding in and out of me with ease. My pussy was begging for a release. I needed to cum so that I could come to my senses.

His dick was throbbing inside of me. Oh, he was close, and I wanted him to c—. No, I didn't want that. I didn't want him to do that— not inside me, but it was TOO LATE! His hips snapped into my ass with force. He grabbed my hips and pulled me onto him. He held me there, releasing every ounce of his nut inside of me.

“Ahhh, fuck! That pussy was nice. Can I keep you?” he asked letting go of me. I let my body collapse onto the ground. “One more,” I said turning to face him. “What?” he asked confused. “I didn't finish. I wanna cum,” I said pouting. I needed him to trust me because I needed this plan to work. “Can't get enough, huh?” he said, pushing me on my back. I let my legs fall open so that he could see just how wet my pussy was. I needed him to lose focus.

“Oh, you nasty slut. You like this shit! Don't you?” he asked, slapping his dick on my clit. He rubbed his dick through the mixture of our cum that was spilling out of me. He sat his dick at my entrance. “Beg, bitch! You want it so bad. Beg for this dick!” he growled, holding his dick at the base. Pride was out the door at this point. There was no turning back. “Please, I need it. Make me cum. That's all I want. Just make me cum. You..,” I said but before I could finish he forced his dick inside of me. “Ahhh!” I said moaning out.

As much as I wanted to hate this, it felt so good. His dick was hitting every spot and scratching every itch. My pussy was creaming around him, and I was leaking like a faucet. He leaned over me, placing his hands on both sides of my head. I could hear our hips slamming into each other. I rubbed my hand up his chest. I grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him closer. I could feel every breath he took on my face.

He threw his head back in bliss. I was chasing two dragons at once— an orgasm and the key to my freedom. I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him in deeper. I could feel my orgasm approaching. “I'm about to nut!” I yelled, gripping the back of his head. I placed my head on his shoulder. I could see it. IT WAS RIGHT THERE! I let my orgasm take over and began clenching and unclenching my walls to push him into his. His strokes got sloppy, and his hips stiffened. He dropped his head on my shoulder, letting his weight fall onto me. This was it— my only chance.

I slid one of my hands down his back while keeping the other pressed to the back of his head. “Stay in me, please,” I begged. I didn't need him to move. As my hand got closer to his waistband, I felt it— the knife! I gripped the handle and pulled it from his waistband. I pulled my legs under me so that they were pressed against his chest and kicked him as hard as I could. Knife in hand, I jumped on him before he could react. Pressing the knife against his throat, I began to speak. “Tell me why I shouldn't?” I yelled. “Because…,” he said, struggling to find an answer. “Take off the mask!” I demanded. “What?” he asked. “You heard me! Bitch!” I yelled back, pressing the knife deeper into his neck. I could feel his heart racing. Wasn't shit funny to him now. “Aight, damn!” he yelled while slowly removing the mask. His hands tossed the mask away from us.

What a sight?! I leaned in closer, turning the blade on its side. “Any last words?!” I snarled. He lay there quietly. “None. Fine with me!” I said, fisting the knife. “I just hope you know how special you are, Mama. Oh, and my girlfriend gone kick yo’ ass!” he screamed.

“Terry!” I said pouting. He grabbed my face and pulled me in for a kiss. “All you had to do was keep acting scared. Dammit!” I said pushing away from him. I was straddling his waist with my arms folded across my chest going into full brat mode. “I'm sorry! You said the code word for ending the scene, Mama. How was I supposed to know you wanted to keep going?” he asked grabbing my chin. “You ruined the fun,” I said dropping my arms. “Did I though?” he asked taking one of my nipples into his mouth. “You still got one more in you?” he asked, releasing my nipple from his mouth. “How the fuck am I supposed to say no?” I asked leaning in to kiss him and dropping the knife.

He placed his arm around my waist and lifted my hips. He reached his hand between us, guiding his dick inside me. “Ouu, shit!” I moaned into his mouth. “Come on, Mama. You got it. Make Daddy proud!” he said smiling. I pushed him back onto the ground. “Here comes, Big Mama!” I yelled, giggling. I hopped onto my feet and started bouncing on his dick. My hips smashed down into his. I leaned over and began kissing his neck. “Let me have it, Mama. Let's go!” he yelled, smacking my ass. Terry let out the sweetest moan as his head dropped back. His eyes rolled into the back of his head.

Fuck, I couldn't help myself. Look at him. Eyes rolling. Toes curling. Moaning to the gods. Yeah, I did that! Me!

“You like that? Huh?” I asked, placing my hand on Terry's neck. I pressed down on the front of his throat. Terry's eyes shot open and his hand reached for mine. “Don't you fuckin' dare!” I said, slowing down my hips and gripping his dick with every grind. “Fuck!” Terry said letting his hands fall. “Nah, look at me. Ain't that what you said?” I taunted while gripping his neck even tighter. “Ahh, fuck. I love you!” he screamed out. “Yeah, I wanna hear that shit. Eyes on me!” I said, mocking him. His eyes opened slowly as his breathing became ragged. I could feel his heart racing under the palm of my hand. I held the grip on his neck with the other.

The sound of my ass colliding with his hips echoed through the barn. “Give me it, Daddy!” I said, releasing his neck. I sat up straight and began to ride Terry like the stallion he is. “Ahh, that's… oh, fuck! Here it comes!” Terry said, grabbing my hips and holding me in place. His hips froze as he squeezed my waist. I felt every drop of his cum paint the inside of my walls. I giggled into my hand and said, “Oh, I'm not done!”

Terry's face was overcome with shock. “You heard me,” I said, rocking my hips. “Fuck it. It's all you, Mama,” he said, collapsing backward. “Oh, I know!” I said cockily. That's when I noticed Terry was smirking. “You just don't know when to stop, huh?” he said grabbing my hips and lifting me off of him. He pushed my body over his chest so that my pussy was directly over his mouth. His tongue immediately found my clit. I was definitely about to cum from this. His mouth covered the sensitive bud as he sucked.

I felt his hands rubbing and squeezing my ass. I fell forward and began grinding against his face. I felt Terry's lips curl into a smile. “I'm about to cum,” I announced loudly. Terry popped my ass and held me down, encouraging me. His tongue slithered along my entrance. He was missing it on purpose, teasing me. I whined like a bitch. Moans were leaving my mouth repeatedly. His tongue finally found its way into my pussy. I clenched as I felt my orgasm approaching. “Ah, fuck!” I yelled, leaning up and straddling Terry's face. He removed his tongue and began sucking on my clit again. That's what did it. I came all over Terry. “Ugh… mmm. Fuck, Daddy!” I moaned through my orgasm. I could hear him laugh from underneath me. “Damn you!” I yelled, climbing off of Terry's face. “I love you, too. Mean ass!” he said. “I guess I love you,” I said, laughing while leaning over to kiss Terry’s lips.

Taglist: @brattyfics @avoidthings @cocooned-butterfly @5headsupremacist @creartivefairy @miyuhpapayuh @megamindsecretlair @nahimjustfeelingit-writes @nayaxwrites @jimmybutlrr @lovey-3 @curvyambitions @deja-r @hoouno06 @insidefeelingofanadult @slutsareteacherstoo @ariiijestertheklown

@armandosbabymama @gg-trini @skyesthebomb @blowmymbackout @blackerthings @mymindisneverhere @iburias @androgynousgaz @becauseimswagman1 @geee3bayyybeee3 @gwenda-fav @poektiou624 @keyaho

@pocketsizedpanther @sageispunk @charismablu @4ftwonder @ineedmyaccountback @rebelrel0987 @4pfsukuna @writingsbytee @nayaesworld

@blyffe @helloncrocs @amyhennessyhouse @beenathembo @thiccc-c @babybratzmaraj @pinkpantheris

@qtmkenedy03 @honeytoffee @talkswithdesi

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cookiedocinha · 5 months ago

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📌 • PINNED POST!

-> Introduction:

Hello there! I'm "Cookie Docinha", but I also go by the names Atsuko, Akira or Asher. I am an amateur artist and animator who does what I do because I love it, I am 18 years old and I am Brazilian and, at the moment, I live in Brazil 💚💛

I am a non-binary person, and I go by He/they pronouns and masculine and neutral terms.

Feel free to ask anything, because this is a fun pastime :D

Oh yeah, and this is my sona, Atsuko! This silly creature that represents me!

-> Artwork:

I make different types of art and animations, most of them are related to fan stuff, since I'm part of several fandoms.

But I also have my own original little creatures and their adventures >:3

-> Commissions:

I do art and animation commissions, but since I'm busy with school and studying for college entrance exams at the moment, I'm only accepting art commissions at the moment. There's more info in my carrd!

Current status: OPEN

I have a YouTube channel where I post my animations, my Twitter and Instagram, but because of the policy changes on these platforms, I switched to Bluesky and here!

-> Other platforms:

Here's my linktree with all my official social medias (Any other account with my name that is outside of this linktree is probably someone impersonating me, be careful!)

-> Content and warnings:

My content can sometimes be a little sensitive for some people, even though most of the artworks are cute and silly things, sometimes I will do violence, blood, light gore and others. But don't worry, because I always put a "trigger warning" or "content warning" (TW and CW). Just be careful when checking out my arts. (NOTE: There is no sensitive art in my commission portfolio, so don't worry!!)

-> Before following:

Know that I don't have the habit of staying in just one fandom for a very long time. Sometimes I might find a new interest and end up focusing on it more. But that doesn't mean I hate the fandom I was in before, so don't follow me just because of the fandom or anything like that.

And I don't really care about ships, but I VERY RARELY make some ship art (usually my OCs, because I don't like ship discussions) again, if I do something like this, don't start an argument over it, I'm not a fan of ships and if I do something related to that, know that I did it just for fun and boredom.

-> Fandoms/My current interests (constantly updated):

• Undertale/ Deltarune

• Undertale Yellow

• Murder Drones

• The Amazing Digital Circus

• Vocaloid/ Synthesizer V

• Pizza Tower

• Friday Night Funkin'

• Baldi's Basics

• Art and animations in general

• ENA

• Omori

• Yume Nikki

• Needy Streamer Overload

• Original Characters

• Minecraft

• Roblox

• Class of '09

• Project Sekai (I'm kinda new into it)

-> Asks:

Any questions or suggestions are welcome, however, if it is something that makes me extremely uncomfortable, I will not respond to you and will delete it from the message box. And if you insist, I will block you.

Well, that's all for now! See u!

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hyperfix-wip · 5 months ago

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Octobie Anarchy: Skirts Are For Everyone

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! OC/ Spider-Punk x fem! OC (can be seen as platonic or romantic, up to you guys 😂)

Summary: Earth-318's Mei Prak never expected her first day back to school to end with helping a skirt-wearing Brit argue with a shitty teacher.

Word count: 4.7k

Author's Note: HOLY SHIT, I WASN'T EXPECTING THIS ONE TO BE THIS LONG 😭🤣 Also, I am pleased to introduce my OC Mei for the Spiderverse fandom! I am thinking of building up her lore in the long run, so we'll see how this goes lol. Event by @the-kr8tor and banners by @mushroom-graphics-allotment

Tags: Discussions of school uniforms, TW mentions of sexual harassment, TW brief violence to an object with an object, Possibly OOC!Hobie(?)

The shrill ringing of the school bell shrieks through the crowded corridors, signaling students to disperse from their friend groups and trudge over to their classes. Chatters echo against the walls and metal lockers while waves of teenagers wade through to their destinations. Amongst the crowd on the wayside is a young girl with disheveled dark curls languidly grabbing her textbook, stifling a yawn while shutting her locker before trudging along with the rest of the student body.

Bodies of monotonous black, white and beige surround the girl in her matching uniform, her beige cardigan blanketing over her hands and past her hips, her matching black tie and white button up peeking underneath, and her pleated black skirt fluttering against her knees. Her drooping eyes scan past her lashes and wispy curls, scanning through the throng of bodies in the hallway, while her skin prickles from being in close proximity with everyone around her. Despite being surrounded by students and faculty minding their own business, either facing forward or looking down on their phones, her skin vibrates into a low buzz, as if all eyes are on her. With a drowsy grimace, the girl weaves through the masses with ease, avoiding bumping into anybody while she navigates herself to her Calculus class.

The girl’s head grows a little fuzzy the more she traverses through the cramped hallway, her sensitive ears picking up different chatters and gossips among the sea of people around her–

(“ –need to pass this exam–”

“ –going to Flash’s Halloween party–”

“ –hot British foreign-exhange student–”

“ –saw Spider-Girl kick Hobgoblin’s ass last week–”)

Her lips curl up into a slight smirk at the last comment she overheard, a tingle of vindication creeping up her chest.

The girl’s wrist throbs into a dull ache as the metal web shooter rubs against the skin, further irritating the slightly swollen joint while she covers her hands with her sleeves. She briefly makes a mental note to check her sprained wrist during lunch before her eyes drift off to the familiar sight of her classroom, her face briefly pinching up while her Calculus teacher stands by the door lecturing a group of girls in front of him, holding a ruler in his hand. Even with hordes of students walking between her and that classroom, she can see his leering eyes lingering on their legs while he holds the ruler by one of the girls’ legs. Her skin prickles more intensely at the sight while the girl having her skirt measured shifts uncomfortably in front of him. The teacher then gives a gruff nod and a dismissive flick of the wrist to the group of girls, who quickly scurry away from him and into the classroom with unease.

Fucking creep.

The girl’s sleep-ridden eyes quickly harden while her skin continues to crawl the closer she gets to the classroom, her fingers fidgeting inside her sleeves from the impending dread of having to interact with the old and stout man. The teacher doesn’t look physically imposing to her– hell, she’s fought with bigger and stronger criminals before– but he still makes her skin crawl like them, like he is a lurking danger to be wary of.

Fortunately for her, she easily weaves into the stream of students entering the class without detection, avoiding his beady eyes while he catches another unfortunate student with a dress code “violation” that no other faculty member seems to notice.

The moment the girl steps into the dull gray classroom, she instantly spots her childhood friend Miles settling down in one of the desks in the back. As he takes his headphones off and looks up from his phone, his eyes light up at the sight of her while a teasing smirk creeps up on his face.

“Welcome back, Mei,” Miles calls out to the girl with a cheeky grin as she crosses the classroom to him. “How’s your first day back after getting suspended for a week?”

Mei rolls her eyes with an amused huff before pulling the chair in front of Miles’ desk out before leisurely straddling on it. “Shut up, man. Kinda wish I could stay home a little longer, to be honest.”

A snort slips through Miles’ nose as he leans forward, his dark twists swaying against his forehead while his grin softens into a lazy smile. “And leave me here to fend for myself? That’s fucked up, dude.”

“Whatever, dumbass,” Mei snickers as she leans against the backrest of the plastic chair, propping her cheek onto her knuckles. “So, what did I miss? Anything big happen while I was gone, or was everything the same as usual?”

Miles’s lips grow into a cat-like grin before leaning closer, and Mei follows suit with slight intrigue in her eyes.

“Well, you missed out on the new foreign exchange student starting beef with Mr. O’Neil.”

Mei raises her eyebrow before she looks over her shoulder, her freckled nose crinkling at the sight of the Calculus teacher lecturing another group of students, before she turns back to her amused friend. “So? Half the student body has beef with him. The damn narc pretty much got half the school in detention or suspended for–” she holds her hands up and air quotes– “ ‘not following the rules.’”

“Yeah, but this guy’s on a whole new level,” Miles snickers. “Like, the dude will find any loophole in the rules and argue his way out of trouble, pissing O’Neil off to no end.”

Mei stares at Miles with a confused look, but he only rolls his eyes as he continues. “Okay, first off: makeup. Y’know the deal– have minimal makeup and not wear bright and bold colors?”

Mei nods in response, covering her mouth with her hand to stifle a smile as she watches her old friend make his case.

Miles narrows his eyes at her, causing her to hold in a laugh trying to sneak out of her, before he goes on. “Dude practically came in all pretty and shit– gloss, eyeliner, blush, lashes. Like you can tell he was wearing makeup, but you’d low-key forget he is, and O’Neil got really pissed that he couldn’t outright call him out without being sure of it. Y’know what I mean?”

Mei shakes her head while stifling another giggle, mirth gleaming in her eyes. “You might have to give me another example or something, man,” she teases lightly.

Miles’ face drops to a deadpan before he scoffs and continues. “Okay, fine. Nail polish. O’Neil tried to send him to detention for having his nails painted, but the guy ended up getting out of it when he pointed out how his nails met the requirements in the handbook—“

Miles stops mid-sentence with another deadpan as Mei struggles to keep her giggles in.

“You’re just fucking with me, aren’t you?”

“A little, yeah. You really need to work on explaining things better.”

Miles groans before he drops his head down on his desk while Mei lets a small snicker slip through her lips.

“But nah, I think I get it though,” Mei murmurs with a pensive furrow in her brows. “Basically he’s fucking with O’Neil by taking advantage of the dress code not being gender-specific.” A small smile curls up on her lips at the thought of the narc turning red at the mysterious boy skirting around the rules. “Not gonna lie, I’m a little impressed that somebody’s that down to piss him off.”

Miles snorts and shakes his head at her, his own eyes lighting up with amusement while his lips curl up with a smirk. “Like you wouldn’t do the same shit if you had the idea.”

Mei only shrugs in response before crossing her arms against her chest. “Could’ve, but didn’t. Not that good with talking when angry, remember? Kinda why I got suspended in the first place, all because O’Neil stopped me to do a uniform check during lunch–”

“ –before you slapped the ruler out of his hand and cussed him out for being a creepy pervert?”

“Okay, is he not though?”

Miles holds his hands out in surrender, his demeanor still calm and casual. “Never said he wasn’t. I’m just saying you got in trouble on your own terms. Everybody else though…”

Both teenagers sigh at the same time before Miles drops his teasing demeanor and looks at Mei with a flicker of concern in his eyes. “O’Neil didn’t actually try anything with you though, right?”

Mei instantly shakes her head, her face pinching up into a grimace. “Nah, just tried to do his usual ruler thing, holding that stupid thing against my leg. Made my skin crawl and shit when his hand touched my knee.”

Miles’ eyes harden in anger and disgust, but Mei quietly waves it off. “I already spooked him when I called him out. It was bad timing on my part when the headmaster walked in on me cussing him out. The nerve of the bastard turning that shit against me and convincing the principal to suspend me for being ‘disrespectful’ and ‘aggressive.’” She then shrugs it off, “And honestly, it could’ve been worse than me getting suspended for a week.”

Miles sighs again as he pinches the bridge of his nose before looking back at Mei with a deadpan, which Mei instantly shrinks from with a groan.

“Miles, c’mon. Nothing actually happened to me–”

“Something could’ve–”

"Well, it didn’t–”

“It could’ve–”

“But it didn’t–”

“Mei, it could have.”

The bell suddenly rings in the classroom, and the rest of the students groan and wander to their seats while the two friends stare at each other in frustration. Miles’ eyes then soften from a harsh glare into a gaze filled with worry. “I just don’t want anything to happen to you…”

Mei’s glare instantly falters, her stomach lurching at the sight of her oldest friend worried about her, before she lets out a resigned sigh and looks away from him. “I know, Miles…”

A small lump sinks into the pit of Mei’s stomach from Miles’ words. She knows he means well, only worrying for her safety and well-being, which makes the guilt gradually fester inside. The metal web-shooters bound to her wrists also grow heavy, reminding her of her secret double life, of her responsibility as a hero, of keeping her as Spider-Girl a secret from her loved ones. Her face pinches up into a pensive frown as she stares down at her arms, a soft barrier hiding bruises and scars littered all over her skin, some from as recent as last week, and others from when she first became Spider-Girl years ago.

After a moment of silence, a small smile slowly creeps up on Miles’ lips before he gently nudges her arm. “We’ll talk more after, okay? Don’t want you getting in trouble on your first day back.”

Mei rolls her eyes with a snort before giving him a lazy smile of her own. “Can’t promise I won’t…”

Mei then turns herself to the front of the class just as the narc in question finally enters the classroom and steps to the front of the class. The old, balding man glares at the rows of students with a slight scowl, his face wrinkled up like an old bulldog, before snatching his clipboard for attendance. His beady eyes roam across the room, scanning through the sea of bored faces in front of him. When Mr. O’Neil’s eyes meet Mei’s, his eyes narrow in disdain while Mei returns the glare before sinking down on her seat. With a disgruntled sigh, Mr. O’Neil drops his clipboard back onto his desk before stepping closer to the front row of students.

“Before we start our lesson today,” his gruff voice echoes in the room, “I would like to share some concerns I have with you all.”

“Oh god,” Mei instantly mutters under her breath and rolls her eyes before her attention drifts to the empty seat in front of her, mentally preparing to tune out the incoming lecture.

“You all represent Horizon Academy, one of the most prestigious schools in all of New York City,” Mr. O’Neil continues, to the growing displeasure of the rest of the class. “This means you all have to behave like model students, to uphold the pride of this school and what it stands for.”

Mr. O’Neil’s eyes then narrow into a harsh glare as he crosses his arms against his chest. “This includes how you present yourselves in public.”

More groans echo in the classroom, but the narc continues to admonish everyone in the room. “Now, as of late, I have noticed that a lot of you students have grown complacent with yourselves. With all of you loosening your ties, leaving your top shirt buttons unbuttoned, shortening the length of your skirts, and wearing makeup and other varnishes on yourselves! Have some decorum! You all must uphold yourselves in a higher standard and not let yourselves look like slovenly hellions–”

SLAM!

Mr. O’Neil’s spiel suddenly gets interrupted by the heavy door slamming open, and everybody turns their eyes to the surprise guest. A tall, lanky boy pants as he leans against the doorframe, his dark coils puffed out and in disarray before he pushes his hair out of his face and carefully ties it up with a red scrunchie. The fluorescent lights shine down on the silver piercings scattered along his face and the slight perspiration on his dark skin as he stumbles into the stunned classroom.

“This is 318, right?” his deep British accent smoothly rumbles against the walls, but everyone stays dumbfounded at his appearance. His beige blazer is decorated with numerous pins, his white button-up is unbuttoned and his tie is loosely hanging around his neck, and his undereyes are stained with black smudges. However, the one thing everybody’s eyes are focused on before breaking out into a tizzy is the pleated black skirt fluttering against his thighs.

“Is that the foreign exchange kid?”

“The hell happened to him?”

“Dude, he’s wearing a skirt–”

“Why does his legs look good, though?”

Miles tilts his head to the side with a disbelieving chuckle as his eyes follow the stumbling student. “Well damn, today’s your lucky day, huh Mei?”

Miles’ face falters soon after as he looks at his friend in front of him, her body suddenly frozen and tense at the sight of the new kid. “Mei? You good?”

No matter how much Miles taps on Mei’s shoulder for her attention, she still stays frozen in her seat. Her skin prickles with an intense burning sensation as the metal web shooters under her sleeves grow heavy, and her hands slowly ball up into fists despite the throbbing ebbing from her wrist. Adrenaline pounds into her ears as her fists ball up tighter, her blunt nails biting into her palms and her wrist screaming from the sudden tension in her body.

Mei shouldn’t be feeling like this, shouldn’t be panicking from the sudden appearance of this guy. She’s only felt like that during her patrols when she faces her deadliest foes in New York. The Prowler, Mister Negative, Green Goblin– those guys are way more intimidating to her, not this lanky Brit stumbling into her Calculus class with a damn skirt on. Despite this, she still feels that familiar tingle on her skin, like small spiders frantically crawling all over her body, itching for her to get the fuck out of this classroom.

Sirens blare in Mei’s mind the longer her eyes stay on the approaching figure of the student, murmurs of the new kid’s skirt fall on deaf ears for her. All she can think of this guy is one word.

Danger.

The boy suddenly stops in front of the classroom as soon as his eyes land on Mei, and the tingles on her skin instantly crawl up to the nape of her neck and her scalp while she stares at his steely-dark eyes, as if they were the only two in the room. His eyes linger on her, as if gradually unraveling her layer by layer, intensifying the crawling sensation on her skin. After a moment of silence, the boy breaks out into a boyish grin before quickly approaching the empty seat in front of her and straddling on the chair.

“Well hello, darling,” the boy greets her with an unwavering smile like an old friend would. “I’ve waited a long time to finally meet you.”

Mei stares at the boy in confusion and disbelief at his sudden interest in her, her freckled cheeks warming up as she ignores all the chatter and stares surrounding them. “Uh, who are you?”

The boy’s smile grows as he leans against the backrest of his chair and closer to her, his towering figure hunching over her desk to stay eye level with her. “Hobie, Hobie Brown. And may I have the pleasure of knowing your name?”

The intense tingle on Mei’s skin and the sirens in her head gradually subsides the longer she stares at him, her heart rate calming down and her fingers slowly unfurling out of her fists, until only a faint buzz lingers under her skin. His stormy eyes soften as his gaze stays on her, his arm now propped on her desk with his cheek resting against his knuckles. The muffled noises in Mei’s head grow quiet, and the uncomfortable prickling along her scalp warms up into a fuzzy sensation, soothing the brief pang of anxiety inside her.

Before she could respond, a loud clack! reverberates in the air, and both Mei and Hobie look up at a fuming Mr. O’Neil standing in front of them with the end of his ruler on Mei’s desk.

“Mr. Brown, Miss Prak, it seems you two have more important matters than what I have to say for the class?” Mr. O’Neil sneers down at them. “I do hope the conversation warrants enough of a reason to avoid detention...”

The teacher briefly narrows his eyes at the annoyed Mei as she gives him a sidelong glance. “Or in Miss Prak’s case, another few days of suspension.”

Hobie’s face drops from a friendly smile to a blasé stare once he turns his attention to Mr. O’Neil. “I find introducing yourself to someone is actually very important. However, it is quite rude to insert yourself into a conversation you have no involvement in.”

Mr. O’Neil’s eye twitches while a small vein starts to pop out of his neck. “But Mr. Brown, is it not also rude to walk into class tardy, let alone interrupting an important lesson that concerns you and your fellow peers–”

“Sorry, Teach, but I doubt Calculus would be useful for most of us here,” Hobie interjects with a dismissive flick of the wrist before turning back to Mei. “Now, where were we, darlin–”

“Mr. Brown, it seems you have misunderstood something,” Mr. O’Neil interjects with a slight snarl. “I was just discussing with the class about the importance of maintaining your appearance here on campus–”

“So in other words, you’re not teaching what you’re supposed to be teaching–”

“It is quite the opposite!”

Tension buzzes inside the classroom as sparks fly between the feuding teacher and student, one close to popping a blood vessel and the other staring up in boredom. Mr. O’Neil huffs out in frustration before his eyes narrow at the fluttering fabric covering Hobie’s lap.

“Speaking of appearances, Mr. Brown, you have seem to have disregarded the dress code yet again—“

“Again?” Hobie raised a pierced eyebrow with a cheeky smirk, languidly pushing himself up from his seat until he towers over the stout older man. “I don’t recall ever being out of dress code.”

Mr. O’Neil grits his teeth while the vein on his neck slowly pops out more. “Don’t you start. You may have an excuse to continue wearing that paint on your face—“

“Gotta make myself look decent—“

“And continue to stain your nails with that varnish—“

“Never thought a neutral or baby pink would look good on my nails, but they’re growing on me—“

“Would you stop interrupting?!”

Hobie feigns an innocent grin as he cheekily holds his hands up in surrender, irritating the reddening teacher. “I don’t see why you have any issues with my makeup and nails. I’m just abiding by the rules like any other student.”

“Those rules were mainly for the female students—“

“Rules never actually said that though, did they?”

The vein on Mr. O’Neil’s neck grows bigger as his face turns redder with each comment. Meanwhile Hobie continues to look down at the teacher with a Cheshire Cat-like grin on his pierced lips.

“I can let the makeup and the nail polish pass, despite my best judgment,” Mr. O’Neil growls through gritted teeth, his hands curling up to fists before he sharply points his ruler at Hobie’s skirt, “but I cannot allow this!”

Hobie glances down at his legs, swaying his hips side to side to watch the fabric follow the motion, before looking back at the stout man with a confused pout. “What’s wrong with it? I got it from the school, so this is the official uniform.”

Hobie then looks over at Mei, who up until now has been watching the back-and-forth with growing intrigue and amusement. “Although, seventy-one US dollars for this skirt alone? Is this school really having a laugh?”

Mei only shrugs in response, hiding the growing smile on her face with her hand. “Still gotta buy the spring skirt if you haven't yet. Costs another sixty–”

“Oh, fuck off–” Hobie mutters in disbelief as Mr. O’Neil glowers at Mei, who stares back at him with an unimpressed deadpan.

“Miss Prak, you are not involved in this conversation–” Mr. O’Neil rebukes before turning his attention back to Hobie, “ –and you need to change back into the right uniform, or I will have you sent to detention for weeks–”

“A little excessive, innit?” Hobie mutters as a nearby student quietly offers him some makeup wipes, and he sends a quick wink at her before grabbing a couple of wipes to clean the smeared black makeup off his undereyes. “I mean, I’m just wearing a uniform like everybody else.”

“You are wearing a female student’s bottoms!” Mr. O’Neil barks back, his face practically steaming like an angry tea kettle. “You are to wear the male’s khakis just like the rest of the male students–”

“But they’re so restrictive,” Hobie pouts mockingly as he starts to bend his knees and straighten up, “and these skirts are so freeing. You can practically run in these without worrying about your trousers ripping.”

Hobie then glances behind him as his fingers reach to the back of the skirt with a furrow to his brows, “Although I suppose most people would not want to expose their bums if they run…”

“MR. BROWN–”

As Mr. O’Neil’s face starts to turn purple while he continues to argue with Hobie, Mei glances over her shoulder and notices Miles blatantly holding his phone out with a stifled smirk on his face.

“Are you…?” Mei whispers with a gleam of mischief in her eyes.

Miles’ smirk grows a little more as he nods, and Mei’s lips curl up into an impish grin. She slides her hand into her backpack and pulls out a small booklet before she turns back to the trainwreck of a show in front of her and pushes herself up from her seat.

“Okay, as riveting and important as this conversation is,” Mei interrupts the two with a cheeky smile on her face, slowly walking between them with her hands up in mock surrender, “I think we stayed on the topic of dress code for a little too long.” She turns to Mr. O’Neil, as if shielding Hobie from any more of the teacher’s tirade. “I mean, I don’t know about you guys, but I came here to learn some Calculus and try to make up some work after being gone for a week.”

Mei’s eyes then narrow at Mr. O’Neil as her grin becomes more taunting. “And isn’t education the most important priority for students to focus on?”

For a moment, Hobie looks down at Mei with confusion before his eyes briefly catch Miles recording them. Miles glances over to the Brit and puts a finger against his smug lips. Hobie’s eyes light up with respect and intrigue as they drift to Mei further provoking the seething teacher.

“Do not patronize me, Miss Prak!” Mr. O’Neil angrily yells at her as he points his ruler at Hobie. “As a teacher, I refuse to ignore this blatant disrespect against the morals and prestige of this school!”

“Morals?” Hobie scoffs dramatically as he sits on his desk, crossing his ankles and rocking his heels against the vinyl flooring. “These are just clothes, fabric that covers our bodies. Is this school’s reputation so fragile that a student wearing a skirt would ruin everything here?”

Hobie then looks around the classroom full of watchful students before looking back at the teacher with a bored deadpan. “If that were the case, then the school should get rid of the skirts entirely.”

“That is not the point!” Mr. O’Neil barks back. “The point is that skirts are for female students only!”

“Dress code didn’t say skirts should be only worn by female students though,” Mei jumps in as she flips through the mini booklet in her hands, stopping at a page before holding the booklet out to the teacher’s scowling face. “See? No mention of gender anywhere in the dress code–”

Mei’s skin on her hand tingles intensely for a brief moment, and she instantly lets go of the booklet and pulls her hands back in the air before the booklet gets slapped across the classroom with a loud SMACK! by a ruler. All eyes watch the booklet land on the window and slide down against the glass before everyone turns to the irate Calculus teacher.

“BOTH OF YOU! GET OUT OF MY CLASSROOM TO THE HEADMASTER’S OFFICE! NOW!”

Both Mei and Hobie stare at the teacher in disbelief as he stomps over to the school phone to make a phone call to the office. Mei glances over to Miles, who puts his phone down with a proud smirk, and she gives him a cheeky grin before looking over her shoulder to Hobie.

“We should probably go,” Mei whispers to Hobie with a snicker before grabbing their bags and gently pushing him towards the door, leaving behind a stunned classroom and a screaming teacher as they walk out to the empty corridor.

As the heavy door closes behind them, Hobie instantly lets out a snort before barking out a laugh, and Mei soon joins him as she walks up to his side. Their cackles echo through the halls as they wander down, with Hobie draping his arm around Mei’s shoulders and pulling her close to his side.

“Bloody hell, that was brilliant!” Hobie gasps out, his lips stretched out into a broad grin. “I didn’t think that wanker was gonna explode like ‘at. Honestly thought he was gonna drop to the floor with how purple he got.”

Mei struggles to wipe away her tears as she hiccups her laughter. “Dude, I’ve never seen him that pissed before! The fuck have you been doing for him to instantly hate you like that?”

Hobie scoffs playfully as he rests his hand on his chest. “I have done nothing, darling! I merely followed the rules like everyone else! S’not my fault that knob is too anal about the rules!”

Mei chokes out more laughter as she leans against him, barely able to breathe, before she grins up at him. “Oh, I think we’re gonna be great friends, Hobie Brown.”

An impish smile curls up on Hobie’s lips as he gazes down at her, his eyes lighting up with mirth. “Oh, I know we will…Miss Prak?”

Mei rolls her eyes with a chortle at Hobie’s teasing smile, her freckled cheeks growing more flushed from the laughter. “Mei’s fine, man.”

Hobie’s expression softens as his hand gently squeezes her shoulder, “Alright then, Mei…”

The two new friends trudge along to the office, unaware of the domino effect of their chance encounter as a certain live video of a teacher yelling at two students circulates throughout the school and social media.

#hobie brown #atsv hobie #hobie october event #spider punk #octobie anarchy #octobie'24 #octobie #hobie brown x oc

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