#Shape: Round Coin

[avegemstones]

[beloved-child-of-the-house]

you know what’s very silly in hp is the money. Apart from their economy making no sense, why are galleons (per gof) the size of hubcaps? Why does Ron think muggle coins are a weird shape?

[divinekangaroo]

this afternoon i was walking home from my last class for the year and see this fully foiled, yet to be opened condom on the ground

before i really think about it, I've bent over to pick it up as if it's a coin, then I'm standing there, staring at a durex in my hand going, why did I just do that???

[keitorin3]

Short: Finding Merlin

Arthur: What do you mean you can't find Merlin?

Leon: I mean we can't find him, Sire. We've asked all the servants and before you ask, yes we've checked the Tavern.

Arthur: *Paces* Then search the forests I want him found understood!?

Leon: Yes Sire. *Walks out the door but hears the King mutter*

Arthur: *mutters* Idiot thinks he can escape this marriage... Ha just wait until I show him his wedding robes, he'll look like a noble and absolutely hate it. 👰🏻‍♂️

Leon: *suffers and leaves quickly*

Gwaine: So what did the princess do this time?

Leon: Apparently he gave Merlin his mother's sigil awhile back and Merlin only just found out, thanks to Gwen, what a noble offering a sigil means to their intended.

Gwaine: No way! The princess proposed marriage to Merlin without even telling him?!

Leon the long suffering: Indeed. Merlin is a commoner and while he has improved since he first arrived here, he still doesn't know all the intricacies of nobility.

Gwaine: So Merlin got mad and went off to who knows where?

Leon: It would seem.

Gwaine: How long do we have before his royalness starts going off to find Merlin himself?

Random Servant: *Shouts* The King is gone!

Gwaine: ... 😅

Leon: ... 😭

Merlin: *Returns dragging an unconscious and dirty Arthur on horseback*

Gwen: Oh, what happened? Did you get attacked? Are you both OK? Where have you been Merlin? Everyone has been looking for you.

Merlin: I'm ok Gwen, I went to talk about something important. Nothing bad happened, I left a note with Gaius on where I went.

Elyan: Ah, he got called on an emergency birth with one of the down town ladies, hasn't been back yet.

Merlin: *Huffs* And so that was reason for this idiot to go off and start a kingdom wide hunt for me? The Dollphead...

Gwen: *sigh* We did try to tell him he was being a bit paranoid. But he thought after your argument on the sigil he might have scared you off... *Looks to the unconscious King resting on the horse* What happened to him?

Merlin: Pfft, *smirks* the King fainted.

Elyan: He... Fainted...

Merlin: Yup. I found the idiot riding like a madman and when he finally calmed down enough to actually listen to me I told him I just went off to talk with Kilgharrah and Aithusa.

Gwen: Ok, that explains where you went, but then what happened to make Arthur faint?

Merlin: Aha, well... 😅

[BEFORE, IN THE FOREST]

Arthur: So what was it that you need to talk to dragons for? Did you get your answers? *Trying and failing not to stare at Merlin while walking beside him*

Merlin: Hmm I did *Reaches out to grasp Arthur's hand and paused their walking*

Arthur: Merlin?

Merlin: *Breathes deeply before taking something from his pocket and into Arthur's hand*

Arthur's heart dropped when he felt a round shape of a coin and it showed in his eyes what he believes this to be.

Merlin: *Noticed Arthur's sudden sad mood, rolled his eyes* Dollphead, opened your hand before jumping to conclusions! 🙄

Arthur: *Opens hand* Wait, is this...

Merlin: *Squirms and fidgets* I wanted to ask Kilgharrah about Dragon Lord Courting triditions. And well, he wasn't too informed in that but knew of Dragon Lords giving a Dragon scale as gifts and I asked Aithusa for one of hers, being her Dragon Lord after all... And well he said I could shape it, so I used my magic to carve it and well, being a dragon lord and you a Pendragon I thought why not Twin dragons?

In Arthurs hand was a white-silver sigil that shines faintly with Twin dragons circling each other and behind them he recognises the druids triskel symbol.

Arthur: *In Awe and too speechless for words*

Merlin: It also is embedded with my magic and acts like a... Connection between us. I'll be to find you as long as you have it and you'll be able to find me. My magic would guide you. Maybe then you won't have to go on a kingdom wide search for me. *Laughs*

Arthur: *Smiles* Heh, so a Merlin Finder? About time, do you know how hard it is to find idiot warlocks lately?

Merpin: *Smiles fondly* Prat.

Merlin: *Looks serious* That's not all either. Arthur, your a prat and a dollop head. I know I tell you you're always a bit thick in the head but I never knew how much until I realised the significance of your mother's sigil. You had to go about proposing to me in the most infuriating way without even telling me.

Merlin: But I know more then anyone how good of a man you are, how much you work to be fair to your people. And the thought of you having those kind of feelings for me was too good to be true. Because I would have said yes. Always I'd say yes. I feel like I was born to love you Arthur. Prophecys and destiny may play a part, but I would always chose you.

Arthur: *Dumbfounded*

Merlin: *Rolls his eyes* I'm proposing cabbagehead. I'll marry you. ❤️💍

Arthur: ... 😳🤯💞 *Faints and falls into a puddle*

Merlin: ...

[END OF FLASHBACK]

Merlin: *Blushes with a laugh* I accepted his proposal. He ended up going into shock after and fell over into a small puddle.

Gwen: Oh! 😃 Merlin I'm so happy for you!

Elyan: Yeah, cheers mate. *Mutters to himself* Thank god all the pining is over.

Arthur: *Wakes up* I had the most fantastic dream! Merlin gave me a sigil and accepted my proposal~!

Merlin: *Speaks from the fireplace* It wasn't a dream Arthur!

Arthur: 😍 You love me! 💖

Merlin: 🙄❤️ *Walks up and kisses Arthur* Yes I do.

Arthur: 💘🥴💕 Merlin Loves me~! Merlin will marry me~

Merlin: *Fond and in love* 🥰

The (Merlin's) Knights: FINALLY!

Castle Servants: FINALLY!

All of Camelot: FINALLY!

Kilgharrah: The two halves have finally become one.

Aithusa: *Chirps*

[madschiavelique]

Could I request dating headcanons for astarion, gale, halsin, kar'niss, raphael, haarlep, rolan, and wyll with gn s/o please?

hey there anon !! i loved writing those i am soft for them all urgh

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ characters : astarion, gale, halsin, kar'niss, raphael, haarlep, rolan, wyll

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ content warning : lots of fluff, bits of teasing but nothing too explicit, tiny bit of yandere!kar'niss, gender neutral reader

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ words : 2,6k (~ 300 words per characters)

( not proofread, english is not my first language ☆)

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ astarion : 

Dating astarion means trying to chat with someone, and having him in the background doing some theatrical faces to mock how absolutely annoying and ridiculous the guy talking to you is. You’re trying to stay serious and pretend you’re concentrating on what he is saying when your boyfriend in the background keeps mimicking the most hilarious things that are sure to make you crack at any moment.

At the end of the conversation, when you join him, you give him a playful pinch in his sides as you laugh together just before he holds up to his head level the guy’s pouch, cackling to your rounded eyes “My love’s time is money from others, and the greatest treasure for me.”

You and him would sneak into some fancy couturier’s place, trying on robes and suits that would cost you way too many discussions with boring men to get astarion to steal their coins. You’d steal some to your liking and infiltrate some chic soirée where everyone smells like they bathed in perfume, where the old aristocrats speak like they have hot potatoes in their mouth, and where you have huge buffets ready for both of your stomachs to welcome.

You’d dance, drink champagne, stuff your mouth with soft creamy cakes, astarion licking the excess off your fingers as he takes your hand to bring you both on a balcony outside and kisses you under the moon like nothing has satisfied his hunger quite like your lips.

But you’d have softer moments, away from stealing and debauchery, just the two of you. You laying in bed, astarion resting his head on top of your heart, listening to its soft and regular beat.

You caressed his hair, your fingertips combing through his curls and brushing against his pointed ears from time to time. It made him shiver and hum, his thumbs on both of your sides tracing circular motions on your skin.

You both loved moments like these, where he could just relax in the arms of someone he loves and trusts, listening to the sound of life he had been deprived of softly beating in your chest.

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ gale : 

Dating Gale means lots of book reading sessions. It would just be the both of you, sitting on a couch at home, your legs on his lap as he caresses your thighs softly, not removing his hand the slightest as a mage hand flips the next page for him.

After those sessions, you both would talk about your thoughts on your current readings, and it makes your heart soften every time you see the way he looks at you when you speak about something that lights your heart up.

It also means spending some afternoons and nights learning more about the weave, and having Gale as your teacher on the matter. He’d always have your back against his chest, guiding your hands to form the specific shapes they need to make to cast a spell.

He’d keep being a distraction to you, kissing your ear, your neck, your temple, letting his hands linger on your waist… and you missed your spell once more. Pity, guess you’ll have to try again while he keeps tormenting you so that this moment you both share lasts longer.

No matter what you are doing, Gale has to have some sort of physical contact with you. Has to take your hand while you’re both walking, has to have his hand on your waist, to sit next to you and have both your knees touch.

It feels like the air around is compelling, and although the charm spell is no secret to him, he knows that it will never equal the kind of electricity you make him feel.

When either of you is away for any reason, he will find a way to make sure he has a piece of you to keep for himself, like a present of yours or anything he can keep near his hands or body at all times so that he can feel you are with him no matter what.

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ halsin : 

Dating Halsin means lots of dates hidden in corners of nature you felt only your imagination could make up. He’d walk you through a cave of shining crystals to bring you to this small beach with a willow tree. He'd have a basket ready, full of goods and snacks and your favourite food for a picnic in the peacefulness of nature, by your side.

Naturally you would both end up with your trousers rolled up as you looked at the fishes in the water, the algaes that rippled like emerald hair, and splashed each other until you both ended up falling and laughing at how drenched you were.

It also means calm evenings in the grove, peacefully helping around with the latest crops and going around to feed the different animals staying here. You’d read some stories to count the kids at night with your fingers still purple from picking grapes while leaning on Halsin in his bear form, taking a nap.

And when the sunsets would come, he’d watch you dance around the campfire with the druids as he carves a small wooden figurine of your silhouette. After the party, he would pick you up in his arms and carry you in bride style to your place.

He’d take the time to clean your feet from the dirt you’d danced on barefoot, would remove one by one the leaves stuck in your hair or clothes, and kiss your cheeks still warm from the dancing.

He never fails to open up to you, to tell you about his past, about his guilts, and you never judge him, only accept him. They say that to keep a couple up you have to look after it everyday, these idiots don’t know anything about love.

As if he had to make efforts to listen to you, as if he had ever doubted. He'd love your flaws if he managed to find any. You had been patient, so patient with him, accepting and loving and everything he could’ve ever wished for.

You make him hope again, remind him by your sole presence that there are things worth fighting for in this world, and he makes sure to remind you of how important you are for him through his words and acts.

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ kar'niss : 

Finding someone whom kar’niss had more devotion for than his Goddess was no easy task, but your sole presence was the proof that there are exceptions to rules.

Thus, if you are his revered deity in his eyes and heart, he has to bring you offerings to your altar. Kar’niss brings you all sorts of gifts, from hidden crystals in unreachable crevices to flowers with unique fragrances, he covers you with gifts and anything that makes him think of you.

You can expect one thing from dating him, and it is that you cannot get out of his grasp ! He’s got 12 arms if you count his spider part and the two human ones, so you can be sure he’s going to have at least one of them around you.

Kar’niss isn’t used to getting touched but craves it with his every breath; so every time you cup his face, or place a strand of his white hair behind his ear, or simply take his hand in yours, his seven dark eyes widen in surprise.

Anybody or any things that dare touch you infuriates him. How could they think themselves worthy of your touch ? of your attention ? They’d get punishment from it, and he’d be sure to be the one inflicting that sentence.

You’d trace the scars of his face, telling him how handsome he is as something within him rumbles with a high purr. His dark grey-ish purple chitin is lukewarm to your touch when your hand sets on his shoulder.

He has been abandoned one too many times already, and he fears that for whatever reason, he could lose you as well. Whenever you take him in your arms, he holds you so close to him like it might be your last embrace. You hum a soft song as he nuzzles his face in the crook of your neck, your hands softly caressing his back as you assure him you won’t leave.

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ raphael : 

Dating one of the most important devils in all Faerun might seem like an intimidating situation, but really, it was somehow truly liberating. Your relationship was no contract, nor did it derive from some spell either of you had cast upon another. It was… unworldly.

There was something about you that made Raphael untense by the second you were in the same room as him. He’d ask for you to be of company whenever he had reports to fill, contracts to prepare, and any other tasks that asked of his brows to pinch one another until you kissed his forehead and make all annoyance go away.

He’d bring you as much as he could to whatever meetup or reception he was needed to, but would never risk your life by bringing you anywhere that could be dangerous for you. One could say that you had become his weakness, his soft spot that made you the lever to pull on if anyone was after him.

You’d been kidnapped several times already by some that thought they’d manage to defeat the devil, but when he arrived for them, he made their torment so great that in any afterlife imaginable they’d suffer his wrath. You were untouchable, had been made immortal by his request and it made him worriless about you ever dying. Prepare your time, because all of his is for you.

You would discuss poetry around a glass of the best wines all the realms could offer, discuss futile matters; hells, you’d make him laugh. When were the times he ever had a moment to sincerely laugh ?

He’d never get tired of talking to you, knowing your points of views on any subjects no matter how ridiculous they were, of making him feel by your words that a devil’s hardened heart might beat for someone else than himself just for once.

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ haarlep : 

One could think that outside of their usual occupations, Haarlep is nothing, just a cluster of people living through them, and someone that has no other living purpose than sexual pleasures.

But when you came into their life, it certainly was a different thing, because you offered them what few gave them in the past : freedom of choice. You were not spending time with them for their pure nature, but for who they had come to be. You listened to them, to their stories, to their interests, and they always looked at you with stars in their eyes.

Haarlep, no matter your occupation in the house of Hope, would always find ways to be with you.

Standing up to search the archives for a specific book ? They’d place their forehead on your shoulder as their arms laced around your waist from behind.

Sat to write a report ? They’d sit next to you, their tail suggestively teasing you by caressing your thigh.

Looking over a map while both your hands are keeping you steady on the table ? They’d tower over you, chest against your back as they placed their chin in the crook of your neck and both of their hands next to yours to touch them.

There was no way in hell you’d get them away from you.

Being with someone as a couple was such an enigmatic concept for them, thus they’d engage in the making of pranks, taking the image of one of their past conquests to come up to you, ask you questions and take their role extremely seriously.

Until at one point, they’d ask through their chosen envelope “Is your heart taken yet ?”, to which you’d always answer “they took more than my heart.”

They kept taking various forms to see if you’d somehow let your interests in them waver, flirting and pushing limits to see if you truly loved them : not a single time would you let yourself be charmed, describing how your partner was simply irreplaceable in your mind and soul, which only made them love you more each time.

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ rolan : 

Dating Rolan will undoubtedly lead to afternoons where you stay by his side, sat as he searches for different books and scrolls in archives to make some sort of inventory.

You observe how serious he is when he sits down, quill in hand as the scratching of it on paper starts again. How his horns catch the candle light, how his glowing eyes skim through lines on end, how his pointer and middle finger join together to underline the words he has to copy.

You could stay like that for hours, and just when you feel you’re maybe disturbing his concentration by your presence and finally stand up, you feel something tighten around your ankle. Your eyes travel down your leg to see Rolan’s tail wrapped around your leg.

His eyes find yours, and he seems as surprised as you are of the reaction, but he doesn’t apologise. Instead, he murmurs two simple words : “Stay, please.” How could you refuse that ?

He’d take you on dates in the middle of the night, bringing you to the highest point of the tower to use the telescope and spend an evening watching the sunset and watching the stars. He’d bring pastries and fruits with him, having placed cushions and blankets on the ground for the both of you to settle comfortably.

He’d summon a flower to place in your hair with the flick of the wrist, create small fireworks with the snap of a finger, make a shooting star rain in the sky with a murmur, just for you.

You’d tease him about how long he’d have been preparing such dates, kissing him and telling him how you’d loved it, and he’d always turn his gaze away as his cheeks warmed up and your laugh made his heart flutter

There’d always be times when, for a break during the day at handling the tower, you’d come see him, and he’d drop whatever he was doing no matter the task to let you come sit on his lap and hug him.

He always waited for that time of day, for the kisses you placed on his horns and the words of encouragement you’d give him.

─ . 𝜗𝜚‧ wyll : 

Dating Wyll means being treated like royalty, and doing whatever you want with your prince charming of a boyfriend. I can picture him taking you to plays, some that sometimes retrace some of his own adventures, where in that case he comes hidden with a cloak to watch it.

You will always tease him about some memorable lines of diverse plays you’ve seen about one of his epics, and he’ll always end up chasing after you laughing as he catches you in his arms to attack you with kisses.

If you are not already proficient in swordsmanship, you can be assured that he will be the most patient teacher. He’d adjust your posture, some teasing touches that’d linger on your hips and waist as one of his hands guides yours holding your weapon.

Soon enough, when you’d be comfortable to handle a little fight, he’d have regular duels with you.

You don’t count the number of times he jokingly smacked your ass with the flat of his sword as you fell on the ground again and again anymore, but you always waited for the kisses on your sore palm after every training day.

He buys you flowers every week, different bouquets every time.

He treats you both like you’re made of porcelain that he wants to protect and hold gently, and as the brightest diamond he ever saw and that he wants everyone to see shine.

He always kisses your ring fingers whenever he holds your hand, showering your face in kisses that makes you scrunch your entire face with laughter.

Wyll is the kind of boyfriend that makes you feel like nothing has moved since your first “i love you”s, it’s been years that you’ve been going out together for 2 weeks. 

[realisticpregerotica]

Ripe Fruit

18+ MDNI, 5400 words +, First Person Male POV

Contains: Pregnant sex, Lactation, Orgasmic birthing, Oral sex during birth, Size difference, Aphrodisiacs

“5 silver for the camel feed. Ask again and that price is going up!”

I groaned at the underwhelming result of my bartering as I coughed up the coins. If I wanted any transportation out in the desert I needed to feed my camel. Parting from the stand I counted my coins and calculated that between an inn and a meal, I could only afford one. And it was looking to be a cold night in the desert town. 

My stomach rumbled as I approached the camel pen outside of the inn. A wooden cart with display cases of the largest fruit I had ever seen in my life. I wasn’t sure if my eyes deceived me. It must have been months since I had seen fresh produce, but the fruit was beautiful. They could have been their weight in gold. Grapes like clusters of smooth amethyst, apples that glistened like rubies, every individual specimen in each crate made my mouth water 

“Good afternoon, traveler, has something caught your eye?” a smooth voice glided from above my head. My neck craned in order to find the source of the voice

As I looked up I caught the eyes of a woman with a dark tan hidden under the shade of the wooden cart. She casted a shadow over me. Her features were sharp. Her eyes, her lashes, her nose took to me with her undivided attention. All while she towered over my head. The window opened up space for her body, namely, a round, full stomach that rested heavily against her lap.

She rested against the counter, the dried fibers of a half eaten date between her fingers, and providing a perch for her body was the round of a greatly pregnant belly that poked through the window of her cart. I couldn’t imagine the inside of the cart to be incredibly spacious, I wondered how it was possible for such a woman to be inside of the cart

I hadn't realized how close I had gotten to her while observing her products, and right before me was her chest. Her gigantic breasts sat against either side of her belly, casually covered by loose purple fabric that drew their full teardrop shape closely.

“Um… Ah… Melons.” I spit out. A cringe crept around the corner of my lips.

The woman chuckled, amused watching the movements of my face. “Melons? I have a few” She replied without any ounce of offense taken. She set her date down, and held her belly in place as she huffed, pulling a variety in a wooden bin from behind her. Her eyes dropped as she found a crate of fruit behind her, 

“The rain's have been plentiful. These may be overripe…” Her fingers drew closer across the wooden counter towards the reptile-like skin of the cantaloupe between us. Even as she brought them out I could smell the fruit from within. They shined among every other product on display. 

“That shouldn’t be a problem. What’s wrong with overripe melons?”

“These plants bore their fruit too soon. Pollinators are scared away by the burgeoning melons that grow on the vine, hiding away the other flowers on the plant.” Her eyes drifted from the fruit. A hand subconsciously drew across the stretched fabric of her dress. She grounded herself to the touch against her unborn child.

“They grew much further than the capacity of their skin. The flesh is taut, the flesh may be juicy, but at a cost of the fruit's body. It's more than that poor skin can contain. How much  more could that fruit take… Nobody can tell for sure…”

The merchant shrugged, the gaze from her sharp eyes narrowed onto me, watching with intention. Her fingers seemed to barely hover over the loose clothes covering her heavily distended midsection. Her tone hid feelings of longing melancholy, one that felt especially unusual for an expecting mother.  Whatever her background was I knew she wasn't just talking about fruit. 

A flick of her fingernail sent a crevice snapping throughout the entire rind of the melon, loud enough to make me flinch. 

“Pop.” She cooed playfully. The flesh parted on the inside was engorged freshness, juices dripping onto the table in front of us. She gestured towards the exposed section of fruit before me. “Have a taste.”

My emaciated body could not hold back any longer. The crisp flesh yielded under the most bare pressure of my tongue. I was slurping the fruit down voraciously. The flesh was sweet and nourishing. The cart owner looked down at me with curiosity and stroked her stomach gently, watching with enough intent to make me self conscious. 

“Please forgive me. I’ve never had anything like this before.” The merchant not only. Id  ever thought twice about the concept of pregnancy, it had felt so far from me. Her fertility was right in front of me on full display. The way her clothing hugged her growing body, how she had to maneuver around her large bump only intrigued me more. Surrounded by the bounties of nature, the shop owner, carrying her own. 

“I can’t imagine I’d have anything like this again.” 

“I’m glad you’re satisfied.” She nodded. 

“How much for the melon?” I asked, attempting to hide these overwhelming emotions behind my coin shack. She waved her hand. “Take as much as you’d like. I’m not sure if I’ll find somebody with your perspective.” The space between our words was palpable. I felt regret, witnessing such an ephemeral beauty pass me by in real time.

“Thank you, miss. I hope I can repay you soon. May I know your name?” 

“Isme.” she extended a hand. It was natural for a merchant and a customer to exchange a handshake. But as mine were embraced by her especially large hands there was a line that was crossed. Our hands lingered a second longer, interrupted by another shopper that lined up behind me. 

“May we be reacquainted soon.” She pointed towards the field on the outskirts of town in their magnificent display of the entire spectrum of colors. The sun started to go down as I brought my arm full of fruit to the inn. The air was looking to be much warmer than anticipated with a subtle scent of flowers beginning to waft through the air. 

~

Night fell as I rested in front of the long day ahead of me. My stomach is as full as it could be. I rolled in my bed with the thoughts of Isme clouding my mind. The scent of cherry blossoms began to waft into my room even stronger now. I had a moment of peace before the commotion came in. The lobby filled up immediately, not one person had come in alone and their partners for the night were draped over each other’s arms. 

On the first floor the scent of sweet pollen hit me like a tsunami, the experience dazed me to lose my footing under me as the embers of desire began to ignite within me. My heart began to race, I felt needy for attention, the touch of another human being. But none of the people who had filled into the lobby could satiate the craving I had developed in the day.

The sound of pollinators buzzing through the skyline with their gentle symbiosis. Not a fig wasp nor moth moved with any aggression. The smell of nectar wafted intensely into the air. Lines wrapped around the pubs and brothels alike. The silhouette of opened windows behind curtains echoed passionate sounds of pleasure where couples were clearly making love. Strangers would seemingly pass each other in the street and disappear into the inns and alleyways only to emerge from them minutes later. 

The scent of nectar was overwhelming now. Into my sinuses and directly into my brain that felt like it was melting. My heart began to race. It was as if my peripherals were highlighted in a pink hue. There was something in the air, literally and metaphorically. In the sweet miasma there was a lust catalyzing hysteria, and I was also a victim.

“Haa… Haa…” my lust was verbal now. It was even hard to control my motor function. Even the rubbing from my underwear was overwhelming. My erection was twitching in my pants. From our short interaction she was the only thing on my mind. Nobody had ever left an impression on me as she did. I retraced my steps into the dark inn where people were attached to their lovers along the walls. The sounds of pleasure echoed further into the alleyway as I pursued the location of the fruit cart. 

The cart was gone, and in my lust driven daze I felt deep regret as I saw the fruit cart gone from its morning location. I had missed my opportunity, and I may never see a woman like Isme again. How long would it be before I devolved into a horny monkey.

“You made it, traveler.” 

The sight before me filled me with a primal sense of purpose. She dawned the same color violet fabrics, though far less draped over her bronze skin. Two pieces of clothing were held together by a  couple of thin gold bands supported by her dramatically distended stomach at the center of her torso that were at my eye level.  Her stomach distended far past her hips than my arms could ever wrap around. My head only reached the bottom of her ribs. I noted the strength of her backside to carry such a weight in preparation to birth her child. As she came to a stop her exposed skin rippled. Though heavy with a child in her womb she was still a flower in full bloom

The apt description of her ripe melons were hers alone now. The exposed skin let me marvel at the miracle of her life giving body. “Isme…” I uttered in relief, my cheeks lit aflame for her to see me in such a state, but as we got closer I realized we were under the same condition.

Her chest rose and fell, also under the spell of the night breeze. Under her translucent veil I could see the redness on her dark cheeks. One knee pointed inwards “You must be feeling it as well. You were just in time for the mass pollinator migration.” She took my hands into hers, picking up exactly where we had left off in the afternoon. 

“I… apologize for being so… Mmh… forward…” I looked her in the eyes. The desire against either of our touches answered it so clearly that the verbal agreement was only a formality. “May… May we have sex?” 

With the same haze in my eyes, Isme nodded with enthusiasm. She guided my to the hidden corner of the alleyway where her cart rested and her stalls of fruit were hidden, a little closet of space where the moonlight shined into the room.

Hinges unlocked and the bottom of the cart flew open. An entire wall had to come down in order to fit the pregnant woman who followed behind me. Her arms rested on my shoulders, guiding me to a bed that made up the majority of the cart's space. Her cart was illuminated by the moonlight. Her sheets were fuchsia under the azure moonlight. 

I felt the warmth of her breasts and belly, our bodies pressed together, as we craved touch immediately. She turned me around and set me gently against her bed to see her from underneath and recognize the scale of our size difference. 

“Was it melons that caught your eye earlier?”

She unclasped the top of her bra, freeing her heavy breasts that dropped heavily with their engorged fullness. Her amber droplets rolled readily against her dark breasts leaving behind a wet trail to her nipples. “Don’t be shy. There will be more than enough for my child. Drink.” My body desperately gave into her instruction. Her heavy breasts required physical labor from both hands to guide her into my mouth. Every touch caused her nipple to leak, down my chin beofre her heavy supple flesh filled my mouth.

Her body rocked back and fourth as she sucked air sharply to the sensations of lactation. Her milk filled my mouth with every suckle, nourishing me as she did before as I was indulged in a way only a mother can indulge me.. I was on fire. Her hands stripped me until my bare skin exposed itself to the night breeze before she explored my body. Her fingers slowly familiarized her with the shape and size of my body, it was as if she was evaluating how much I could take. Whatever she assumed, I wished that she would give it to me twofold. Last of which to be touched was my erection that had been growing against her body. 

“Keep suckling. Let me feed you.” Her large hand enveloped most of my shaft. The bottom of her thumb rolled against my most sensitive spot at the bottom of the head. She began to stroke. Firm pumps gave the stimulation that my body crazed under the humid haze of aphrodisiacal pollen in the air.

My moans were muffled into her breast as she bit her lip to my sounds. Her touch directed the fire igniting all over my body. Nursing on her leaking teat became second nature. My airways were surrounded by her breasts, her scent, and the taste of her milk. My brain was overwhelmed by Isme. My hands began to explore, finding any foothold to reach Isme closer as she continued to work me agonizingly slowly. 

My hands sunk into her flesh. The new grooves of a pregnant woman's body. The sensations of her body against my fingertips. The softness of her sides, her wide hip bones, and finally, the firmness of her belly parked up against my side as she leaned forward to nurse me. She pressed her midsection into me, allowing myself to enjoy the part of Isme’s body that truly caught my eye.

A pound, almost like a muffled thump. I would have thought to look at the entrance if it hadn't been for Isme's reaction.I looked down to find her belly contorted to sharm angles as limbs poked through her drum tight skin. My eyes could deceive me into seeing the details of a toe through The surface of her skin. 

“Your nursing is making me have contractions.”

Her white stretch marks decorated her body like those on the burgeoning melons from before. They only looked more stunning while highlighted by the yellowish metal that draped over her maternal frame. She huffed. Her sheer size was too much to handle. Anxiety grew on her face, like she was watching a fleeting moment pass by. She took her hand off of my cock, leaving me to sigh in sexual frustration. She wore no bottom to cover her sex. 

“Will you have me, traveler?”. She arranged every massive pillow on her bed to support her body. Her heavy, milk laden breasts were parted by the massive dome of her midsection, the undercarriage spread twice the width of my shoulders. She spread each of her tree trunk thighs to invite me into her. I was drawn to her belly as proof of her stunning fertility.

Her pussy was glistening in ways that I never thought imaginable. The entrance of the especially large woman was proportional. I couldn’t forget her tangent from earlier in the day. She was every bit the ripe fruit that she spoke about, and under the spell of the night  I felt like if we didn’t have sex, I would die. 

My whole body needed to accommodate her to take form to the love we’d make. As my hips pushed into the plush padding of her crotch my body parked against her firm midsection. There was a baby in here, one that had been growing inside of Isme for 10 long months.

I had to lift her heavy malleable belly to access her sex. I felt the weight of her child shift as she was relieved from the heaviness of her womb. She sighed, satisfied and exposed while my hands carried no less than half my body’s worth of weight. 

With her child in hand, I finally thrusted. “Mnnnhhhhgggg.” came from my throat as her warm sex enveloped my body, sending a chill down my spine. Her insides were warm, nearly hot and full as they pushed against me in every direction with softness to give. Every angle of every thrust parted her walls in new exciting ways that made her moan and shutter in excitement. There was so much woman to make love to, and I only had one night to do it.

Her walls began to collapse around me. She gasped as she was forced to address the cramping that took hold of her abdomen. A contraction took hold around me and her uterus that went solid under my hands. Wetter, together, I felt every ridge around me as Isme's body tightened to ready herself to begin labor. She winced in pain as her fingers began to dig into the mountain of pillows behind her

Her pussy, pulsing and contracting. Her breaths steadied as I moved. Isme's stomach began to tighten, receding inside my arms. Her firm belly hardened around the shape of her uterus and refused to yield.

“Hooooooo…” left her lips. Her chin pointed towards the sky as she took in a deep breath and let a long exhale groan from her relaxed jaw. She stroked her stomach, quelling the movements that bobbed against her stomach between us.

“Please keep moving…” She begged to keep taking her as the contraction. Her walls pulsed and contracted with every thrust. I felt like I was interrupting her body as it labored, but I was privileged to feel Isme’s most intimate process. Every thrust was a fight as her body clung onto me as I pulled out, but hungrily took me back into her. Our moans blended together,  releasing the feeling of her contractions against our sex.

Isme’s hands held my body, stroking my back and hips with idle lust as the powerful contraction came to an end. The area  around her popped naval was red under the tension and the rest of her body grew hot. There was an intoxicated look in her eyes before she lifted her hips from between her legs.

Effortlessly she dragged into the pile of body size pillows. While she rotated her cumbersome body around me, her gold chains jingled against her stomach and before I knew it one of her soft, heavy thighs straddled my hips and swallowed me into the soft ocean of her warm body. 

The weight of her round dominated my torso and pushed my breath out of me. “Mnnha-” I sighed, a breath was forced out of me as the weight of her hips and her belly sat against my torso. In an unprecedented erotic peril I realized that the pregnant merchant was going to use me.

“Forgive me traveler. We don't have much time.” She slurred as she maneuvered my cock against her entrance. I gasped, feeling the size of her entrance that was going to swallow my throbbing member whole. Isme’s soft, wet sex was intimidating to the sheer size of the pregnant woman on top of me. I flinched at the feeling of her wet juices subconsciously dripping from her wet hole like nectar from a flower begging to be fertilized. Her lust only made the developed young she carried in her uterus only more alluring. “I understand. Your body as it is… Haa… Is the greatest privilege.” 

She took a deep sigh with a softened gaze to my comment. With the overwhelming anticipation of sex Isme plunged into me. “Mnnnnhhhh!” was forced out of my crushed lungs as my body sunk into the pile of pillows as I was swallowed into  her gravid body. She groaned with heavy satisfaction as her body buckled forward. Her baby thrashed against me. The pressure of her womb was tangible as I felt the healthy life inside of her body.

It wasn’t enough for either of us. She maneuvered her large body over me, and slammed down all of her weight against my disproportionate member again. The sounds of our bodies filled the room as we collided onto her massive mattress. The bedframe groaned under the power of her pregnant body.

She couldn't hold all of her weight, causing all of the weight of her baby laden belly directly onto my shaft. My hips were crushed by each one of her heavy pumps. Her back arched as she threw her weight into me for her pleasure. Her body rippled with the effort, her breasts leaked a trail of milk that rained over my face and stained her bump.   I could feel my body bruising and I didn't care. No price was  too great for a lover her size

I could feel the pressure building in her hips as she rode. One hand sat atop her belly, steding her and digging into my body more and more. She held my hands against her mattress as we indulged. Her stomach began to tighten from over me this time. Her stomach receded back into her body

“Annnhhh~” I groaned, feeling the weight of her womb as it descended into her birth canal. With the mother in control she continued to ride through her labor pains. Her folds contorted around my cock, her gel-like juices stained my cock and ensured I could glide against her contracting vagina.

“Hnnggh!” She cried sharply as I felt a hard, muscular lip at the tip of my penis. With a quick inhale she moved again. “I-mmnnh-can-haaaa… Feel you against the baby.” she moaned through clenched teeth  We climbed, further and further amidst her pains.

Her hips dominated me, her ass crashed into my pelvis with recoil sending vibrations to her dilating uterus. “Oh fuck…” I groaned. “Your baby is so low…” My comment drew a smile on her face. Her hands lifted and supported her belly at the height of the contraction. From below her I took control, thrusting into her heavy body as best I could as her face contorted in the characteristic features of sexual pleasure. “Nhha~ Yes-Yes!” she cried as her whole body tightened.

She felt every one of my thrusts sending vibrations to her womb as I hit her harder and faster. I prodded her dilated cervix until finally her hips gave in and sunk into my body. My cock jabbed into a thin, rubbery layer before releasing my seed into her exposed uterus. My ejaculation released a pent up sensation from within her that had been building for 10 long months. 

“GUUUUUOOOOOOOAAAAH!” Isme cried. Her hips spasmed as she grinded over me. Her pussy twitched wildly to accept every drop of semen her pussy demanded from me. Her fingers ran through her scalp as she gyrated her nude body over mine. We panted, our sensitive sexes riding the sensations. My hands drew across her engorged womb between us, worshipping her virile round  under its weight. As my palms contacted the surface of her red, taut skin the thin layer separating my penis from her baby ruptured.

Isme took a sharp gasp as the protective layer within her audibly popped from within her. Immediately a bathtub of warm waters erupted onto my waist, leaving myself and a majority of the pillows under me drenched. We took heavy breaths in disbelief against her stained sheets. 

“Your… Waters…” I said, half in observation, half in question. Isme nodded with a look of shock and disbelief on her face. 

“You… You popped me, traveler. It looks like you picked another overripe specimen” She joked. Her smile disappeared quickly with a wince of her labor pains. “A-ahhh~” she cried, the pains forcing her to keel over my body.She held onto my body, vulnerable and afraid on top of me as intense labor pains reduced her to tense, shaky breaths. 

“Stay with me, traveler?” she asked, as if leaving my lover of the night to labor alone was an option. “Of course.” I reassured her. I assisted her as best I could onto her side where she rubbed the bottom of her stomach in the new, overwhelming pain. 

“Mmmnhhhh-” she groaned, pressing our foreheads into each other once more. “Ah~ Ah~” her knee swayed side to side as the effort of childbirth and adrenaline coursed through her veins. I wanted to relieve her

I pressed my forehead against hers. Slightly, she let go of some tension she carried in her face. She took deeper breaths and allowed the contraction to do the work of sending her child downwards. We both watched as her belly changed shape at the end of the contraction. The gravity of the moment was palpable. Isme was giving birth and I was watching her. 

Between contractions we heard the moans and sounds of sex around us. Sweet pollen still lingered in the air. Our warm bodies still craved more.Her sounds blended in with the sounds of the lovers around us, filling in the air with erotic sensual background noise. The atmosphere was not lost on us

Our lips met and we began to touch. Through kisses her jaw released the tension she held. She opened her mouth, her tongue explored the inside of my mouth, leaving us longing for more. “Can you feel my baby, traveler?” She requested.

“From inside?” I asked.  She nodded. My hand followed her hot, red midsection down to between her legs. My fingers led a journey across her gigantic body before I found her outside lips from under her belly. Isme let out a sigh at the contact. She spread her legs further, making it easier to find her labia, and deeper, her entrance. 

“Mnnnhhhh~” She moaned as my fingers parted her delicate folds and pushed into her. Her chest rose as she softly thrusted against my fingers. My fingers grazed a warm, round mass. “Haaaa-nnnghhh!” Isme groaned suddenly. Her thighs began to shake as the walls of her vagina began to close around my fingers. I watched her stomach crunch itself again. From within her I moved my fingers 

The lip of her cervix hugged the head as it descended. I held my breath, watching the large, round head of her child separate the lips I had passionately thrusted into just minutes before. As she let go of her push the head receded back into her slightly. Tired, childbirth was every ounce the endeavor I understood it to be. My fingers slowly exited her body with the effort of her pushes. “You’re making such good progress.” 

Through deep breaths she smiled and nodded, her face lighting up with pride. Isme demanded more kisses by leaning her face closer to which I obliged. Between her contractions she pressed her forehead to mine and we kissed under the illumination of the moonlight. Sweat stained my forehead as she whimpered into my body. Her tender noises of sex, she ended her contraction with a smile.

Her face tightened in the middle of our kiss. “A-annghhh!!!” She groaned against my lips. She sucked air in sharply and bore down with power, My fingers were forced out of her as the head occupied her entrance and spread her labia open. “Mnnnghhhh!” Isme moaned before she moved with the contraction again. The head spread her open, the round shape stayed as she pushed but as soon as she let go the head receded back into her slightly. 

“Oh goodness, it burns.” She groaned. “That must be what the head feels like.” I communicated. The update seemed to stun Isme who looked at me with a glint in her eyes.

“Would you like to feel?” I offered. She nodded and I slowly guided her hand across her large body. Isme gasped, her hand patted the little head between her legs with relief. We felt the delicate little orb that was slowly being born through Isme’s grueling effort. Her crotch was still sensitive as we felt her body accommodating her baby’s head. Slowly, I drew circles around her stretched skin.

“Touch me, I’m having another contraction-ohhhhhhh.” There was a head engaged between her legs. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head as I drew my fingers in a circle around the head.��

“Unnnnghhhhhh!” Her pushes came directly from her base. Every graze against her sensitive clit got Isme to take a deep breath and relax to feel all of the sensations of the crowning head, the pleasure and the pain. “Nnnnghhhh!” Through the steady stimulation her breasts began to leak again. The droplets were whiter now. Her body must have known that her baby was almost here. The head stretched her vulva even more. I could feel the head underneath my fingers as it passed through their mother’s opening. 

Between isme’s legs was the size of a cantaloupe. Her clit poked above that head. With one finger placed upon her sensitive nub I massaged her outer lips as they stretched around the orb. Her eyelids fluttered  as she moaned, exposing more of the child's head. “You're making me so wet…” 

The crown was a beautiful sight, a provocative, indulgent sight that I needed to savor every moment of. Isme’s laboring pussy was every bit the flower that attracted her mate. She gasped as she saw that I was headed between her legs as she readied herself for the next intense feeling to claim her partially born head and her trembling clit teased me to pleasure her more. 

To indulge every one of my ambitions I buried my face between her gigantic legs. “Mnnnnhaaaa~” she gasped as her pitch raised. Her folds were saturated in juices, making my tongue slick against her most sensitive areas. 

The sensations made her tremble as her sharp moan elevated into a high pitch squeal. “I didn’t know a laboring mother, mnnhhfff, could feel so much pleasure!” Isme cried. Her hands found the back of my head and held me in place against her pussy as she labored.

“Ohhhhh… Fuuuuuuckkkk!” She chortled as she suffocated into the throws of cunnilingus and labor. “I’m going to cum, you’re going to make me cum while giving birth to my child.” Isme squealed as her toes curled against the sheets of her bed. 

“Push, Isme.” I instructed. “Deliver your baby.”

“Mnnhhh.” My attention towards her erogenous point lightened for her to build the energy for a decisive push. “Nhhhh-haaaaa-hooo-hooo-hooooo.” 

Isme's fingers dug into the sheets. Her calf began to rise over my head, its size blocked the moonlight above me. The leverage focussed more energy on the mother. The cavern created by her massive thighs tremble around me. She hummed, low and powerful, her voice peaked, growing as her body’s tremors climbed into an earthquake of pleasure. She held her thighs open for her child and my tongue. The weight of her belly sat directly on my forehead, and the mass was only going down 

“MnnnnnhhhaaAAAAA!!!!”

She lifted her hips and thrusted against my face. A shoulder popped free from her first violent jerk. “GUAAAAAAAOOOOOHHH!!” The second shoulder followed. 

But the heavy child still sat in her birth canal. The rest of the body needed their mother’s effort to be born. 

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHH! Her vocal chords rang until they grew hoarse as she exploded into a shrill scream that silenced the entire block as her orgasm shot the rest of her child's body onto the bed. Isme’s body spasmed as they returned to her laid down position. Her child was heavy as I took the slippery, squirming newborn into my arms and onto the mother’s chest for her to witness the first breaths of her child. 

With relief she embraced her young with her arms as I got to witness a new milestone of life, the very moment a woman became a mother. In a pool of her own fluids, covered in sweat, with her child still attached to her body, Isme was beautiful.

The first moment Isme could let her head rest against her pillow she did. She looked at me. “I never asked you for your name, traveler. I want to know the name of the man who gave me this pleasure.”

“Rayn…” I answered. She panted, cradling her newborn son in her arms. “What a wonderful name. Perhaps next season we will make a child that has that name.”

I blushed. “They may have that name as long as I have the privilege to watch their mother as she bears that fruit.” 

[literaryvein-reblogs]

More Roman Art Vocabulary

for your next poem/story

Denarius: the most common Roman silver coin.

Domus: a single-family house.

Encaustic: a painting technique in which heated wax was mixed with pigment. Used for the painting of mummy portraits in Roman Egypt.

Engaged column: a column set into the wall of a building so that only half projects.

Fasces: bundles of elm or birch rods bound together with an ax, used as a symbol of the magisterial power to punish.

Forum: the center of political and administrative activities in a Roman town. It was a large open space containing government buildings, markets, and temples.

Freedman: an emancipated slave with most rights of a citizen. Slaves could sometimes buy their way to the status of freedman, or they might be freed by their owner in his will. Children of freedmen were full citizens.

Fresco: a wall-painting technique in which the pigment is applied to newly plastered walls; the paint bonds with the plaster as both dry, creating a very durable surface.

Hypocaust system: a device used in Roman baths. The floor of a room to be heated was raised on small brick stilts, and then hot air from a central furnace was pumped under the floors to heat them. The heat would also rise up through the walls to heat the entire room.

Iconography: the meaning or symbolism of a work of art.

Imperator: general or commander, the root of the word “emperor.”

Insula: a Roman apartment house, usually with five or six stories. Several apartments on each floor surrounded a central courtyard. Often there were shops on the ground floor. The structures were usually built with brick-faced concrete.

Lararium: a shrine to the Roman household gods called lares. Every private home had one.

Lares: the Roman household gods.

Lenos: a sarcophagus shaped like a bathtub, with rounded corners.

Mosaic: patterns or pictures made by embedding small pebbles or pieces of stone or glass (tesserae) on floors or walls.

Necropolis: a “city of the dead”—a cemetery, always located outside the city walls.

Orchestra: the flat space in front of the stage building in a theater where the actors perform.

Papyrus: a plant that grows in the Nile River. Its fibers can be processed to make a form of writing paper that was used in Roman

Paterfamilias: the male head of a Roman family.

Source ⚜ More: Word Lists

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

quaso tier list

I noticed that croissants are a trendy food now…? There’s many different variations of it on social media and many eateries doing their own creative spin on it. I thought it would be funny to make a croissant tier list (from Rollo's perspective) on what does or does not qualify as a "real" croissant.

This is dedicated to you, quaso king 🥐

DISCLAIMER: This is just for fun and in no way reflects my own opinions!! I don't mean to be rude or to talk down to the establishments who make and/or serve any of the croissants pictured here. I think they should make whatever they want to (get your coin) and salute them for their innovation! o_o)7

And now, without further ado...

The reasoning (again, with Rollo's perspective in mind):

"as god intended" = Rollo has very conservative and plain tastes, so I firmly believe he would place a normal ass croissant in the top tier and nothing else.

"socially acceptable but still sinful" = In this tier are common variations of the regular croissant but have some addition(s) that Rollo may deem "too much". This may include sweet (chocolate, cream, fruit, nuts, powdered sugar) or savory (cheese, vegetables, meat) fillings/toppings.

"abomination" = This tier includes croissants that still retain the "croissant" (crescent) shape but have 1-2 elements that are... off... somehow. For example, miniature croissants (that you are encouraged to dip into your drink), whole spears of asparagus stuffed inside the pastry, carving out the middle of a croissant and filling the cavity with other things, and... frozen croissants *shivers* Also here is the "crookie" or combining cookie dough with a croissant.

"blasphemy" = This is when the croissants start fucking with the shape or the form (which Rollo does NOT approve of). Both examples in this tier are just slightly twisty variants, which (while still offensive) is not as offensive compared to what's to come. Also here is a giant croissant, which got downgraded from "abomination" tier despite being the correct croissant shape due to the sheer excess of size.

"contrition" = Here we have flat, crispy as heck croissants and these fat... round... wheel-like stuffed croissants with a LOT of filling. Rollo would call the former basically a potato chip (it only ranks this high because it technically keeps the crescent shape) and the latter too indulgent and being slightly off from the original crescent.

"damnation" = These are not even croissants anymore, it's literally a muffin, a waffle, a donut, and burger buns made with croissant batter.

"eternal damnation (to hellfire with you)" = Rollo voice) WE HAVE GONE TOO FAR, IT IS TIME TO STOP. Yes, you are looking at croissant BOXES, croissant ONIGIRI (with strips of nori and toppings/fillings characteristic of actual rice balls), and some... croissants of a churro-like shape...) The last item here is a rice paper croissant... which, while resembling the shape typical of a croissant, is completely different in composition and is therefore messing with tradition. It is deemed worthy of eternal damnation.

[monstersandmaw]

Monster: Werewolf

Prompt: Childhood friends to lovers?

I can't drabble, apparently. Also there's some angst with a hopeful ending. :3

__

Gods, it hurts to look at him now. It shouldn't, but it does.

You've seen him skin his knees falling off the new bike his parents bought him. He'd been showing off and trying to do a wheelie. You've seen him crying after he put his palm down on a wasp while the two of you were splashing in the blow-up swimming pool when you were six. You've seen him with ice cream all round his face on a sleepover where you watched a movie that was too scary for the both of you and you both cried and curled up under the blankets together to sleep that night.

And then you went to high school together and he broke the hearts of everyone who had one to lose in the first place. Tall, athletic, handsome, he grew into his body in a way you didn't think you ever would.

He went to college and you moved across the country, and you used to call each other and talk late into the night.

Then he went silent.

At first you'd been worried enough to call his parents, but they just told you he was going through something and it would be best if you didn't call again.

Gods, that had hurt. You'd thought that was the worst pain, but now, seeing him in some bar in the city, with his sleeves cuffed up to his elbows and a whisky glinting in a cut glass tumbler between his lax fingers... He looks incredible and you feel like shit.

You whisper his name, and there's no way he should have heard it over the live band in the corner, but he jolts like he's been electrocuted and turns around with a wild look in his eyes, and the glass slips from his fingers onto the bar with a clunk.

You see his mouth form the shape of your name and he's half risen from the stool before he staggers a little. He's not drunk; he's shocked. He says your name again and the music steals it away again.

You cross to him and he looks down at you, his breathing shallow and fast. The light catches his eyes and flares them gold like the toss of a coin.

He says your name again and reaches for your shoulders as if to check you're real; that you're really standing there.

"Fuck," he whispers. "Fuck, I've missed you so much."

"What happened?" you breathe back, looking up at him.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," he exhales as he sits down heavily on that stool again and takes a deep draw from the whisky.

"I always believed you," you said. "Until you told me we'd talk soon. That was four years ago."

He screws his eyes shut. "I'm sorry."

"Try me," you say again and there's fire in your voice now. He hears it, and when he looks back at you, his eyes really are glowing gold.

"Alright..." he says. "Here goes nothing."

[avegemstones]

[lostintransist]

Tomorrows From Before | Part 1

Reader's callsign is Lynx, used in place of name.

CW: Violence, that's all this chapter.

AO3

The only nice thing about being pulled up into the 141 had to be the single room. Not having a roommate would let you put up with a lot. The lot that you put up with now would send a lesser soldier to the nuthouse.

You had stumbled over so many odd dynamics in the team. Meeting Price had gone well. He wasn’t terribly old and while he felt like an overworked father, you were grateful to have someone you could solidly place your trust in. Your last leader had been a nepo baby, and while he kept his job your partner had been KIA due to his leadership choices.

Roach scared the shit out of you. He stared. He didn’t try to talk to you, just stared. It got a bit easier when he offered you a controller and then promptly kicked your ass at Mario Party, but he still scared you. Gaz was nice enough, if a bit cool and reserved. Ghost and Soap had to be lovers. You would bet your challenge coin collection on it.

Something about the way the two of them either circled each other like planets locked in orbit or touched in the slightest hint of ways is how you clocked it. You couldn’t decide if no one else knew or if they didn’t care. Fraternization rules be damned you guess. You weren’t in charge of them and wouldn’t take the heat for them getting caught.

Price had everyone running drills today. These drills were different than what you were used to. Each member of the team had to pair up with one other member, run the course, then run it again with a different member. You figured you were the reason for these drills. These guys had several missions under their belts of working together. As the outlier Captain Price wanted to reduce the friction of newness between you and everyone else. It was a good plan.

It would have been a good plan. Should have been. It all fell to shit on your first run.

The 141 had been running the drill alongside the 261, an airborne as opposed to ground crew like them. Should have been fine. They should have stepped up when the fight started when you got dragged into it for daring to visibly exist in a fem-shaped body.

A sergeant with a little man complex and little man syndrome caught you by the braid as you cleared the last room with Gaz. Your boot to the inside of his knee and a backhand across his face shocked him enough that you slipped through the door to freedom. Sergeant barreled after you, catching you under the arm with a shoulder and tossing you a few feet away.

You landed funny, one knee down and one up. The seconds it took you to right had him right on top of you. This is where your teammates should have stepped in. Where they failed you the first time. Right hook to the face split your lip and sent you directly into the open palm that caught you in the ear.

A pain unlike any you had ever experienced knifed through your ear. Disoriented you returned the blows.

Punch, he batted it away. Good that let you step in. Body shot followed by an uppercut to his chin. His teeth snapped together in a satisfying click that you hoped would leave a mark.

Nailing him between the legs with his eyes on the sky he drops to his knees before you.

“That is enough!” Someone yelled. You think it is from the left of you.

Your eardrum has to be ruptured. No tension on the thin skin meant a lack of pinpoint hearing. Stepping back you wipe at your mouth with the back of your hand.

Stringy, bloody, spittle coats your wrist to knuckle.

A man you’ve never seen starts yelling in your face.

“What company are you?”

“141.”

“Price’s?”

You nod once sharply.

“I’ll leave him to deal with your punishment for this altercation.”

He rounds on the sergeant still holding his jewels, must be his captain from the dressing down.

Stepping away from the verbal lashing you end up standing in front of the team, scanning for Price.

“You uh,” Soap is speaking to you. “You got something here.”

He points to the side of his neck just below the earlobe.

Fuck. You must be bleeding.

“Sorry? What was that? I COULDN’T HEAR YOU PAST MY BLOWN-OUT EARDRUM!”

No one says anything. They all stare, stone sentries.

“That’s what I thought fuckers.”

You spit the blood that had collected in your mouth and on your tongue on the dirt between your boots and theirs.

“Tell Price I’ve gone to medical and will report at his office in one hour for my punishment.”

“Yep, that’s ruptured.”

The nurse practitioner pulled the otoscope back and her face with it. Stepping around the elevated table you sit on she checks your other ear.

“I felt the membrane tear, I know it’s ruptured. What do I do for it?” You sit still as the plastic piece tickles the inside of your ear.

“Pretty easy actually,” she tossed the cap into the garbage and hung the light back on the wall. “Don’t get any water in it, so showers only, no diving for the next four to six weeks. If you have any leakage or pain come back and we will check for an infection.”

Sliding on the backless wheeled stool the nurse pulls out her notepad, writing down your excuse note for Captain Price. Ripping off the single small page she hands it to you.

“Oh, and if you have to sneeze? Open your mouth.”

Taking the square with a nod you hop off the table.

“Cut them some slack, if you can.”

Glancing down at the nurse she answers the question in your face.

“They nearly lost everyone the entire 141 in the past few months to an American General and an American contractor. Brass threw an accomplished American into the lion’s den to see if they were still tamable.”

The indifference, coolness, and even hostility all made sense now.

You stalk out of the room and out of the clinic without a word to anyone. Everyone who passes you glances from your lip to the dark look in your eyes and shifts from your path. The twenty-minute walk to Price’s office is not enough to cool your rage.

Standing at the solid door you knock, and wait. Twenty seconds pass before the door opens. Ghost, Soap, Roach, and Gaz all trailed out of the office. None of them looked at you, their eyes trained on the floor. You focus on the narrow gaps their bodies allow to see Price staring daggers after them. Once Gaz leaves the door frame you step in and shut the door.

The buzzy overhead lights had been turned off, a few small lamps lit the space instead.

“Thanks for coming by. Sit,” Price gestures to the standard-issue chairs in front of his desk.

You settle in, placing the nurse’s note in the center of his desk. Leaning back you watch him, this British captain. You thought about what had been shared with you. Were you a lamb for the slaughter?

Waiting him out seemed the right choice. It went against the hostage negotiation training you had in the past but if you were the hostage nothing you said would release you from this situation.

Price sighed deeply, tapped the note twice, and looked up at you.

“Tell me what happened.”

So you do, everything you remember up to and including your line in the sand, or rather blood in the dirt, with the guys.

“Sir, I was informed in medical today that I am the canary in the coal shaft. Would you agree that is my role on this team?”

He filled his lungs slowly, ribs expanding and retracting.

“Yes.”

“Why?”

This question seemed to stump him. He leaned back in his chair, fully extending the stretch of the chair. Crossing his arms across his chest he looks at you.

Silence lingers.

“Brass only sees value in the 141 as a joint team. If we can’t prove that we can work with outsiders again then we will be disbanded. The men now know the reality of the situation and I imagine that by the time their laps are done, they will have a plan to make it look like they have accepted you.”

“Are you telling me not to trust them?” Apprehension walked your spine, a spider on a thread of silk.

“I am telling you to be watchful, be careful. You were chosen for your stellar record and for your various training dealing with difficult personalities. They will grow to trust you; Brass wants to make sure you can live long enough to see that flower blossom.”

“And if I refuse to sing for a paycheck?” You lean forward, elbow settling on your knees.

“Then we handle whatever Brass decides. If you don’t want this challenge no one will think less of you for it.” Captain searches your face, no expression passing through his.

Blowing a breath out of your nose you stand.

“If it becomes too much I will inform you. Now about my punishment?”

Sitting upright Price waves a hand as if dismissing cigar smoke.

“I will write up something that will pass muster but I am not adding insult to injury. You did the right thing. The guys are running laps as punishment for not stepping in to save a teammate, even if she didn’t need it.”

He must have caught your mouth opening in defense.

“You are dismissed, Lynx.”

Huffing a breath you leave Price’s office much the same way the guys did, mad.

Shout out to @bernardsbendystraws for the super cute divider!

Masterlist

[uhohdad]

HEADS OR TAILS

Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader

Summary: Ghost can’t decide if he should let you finish.

Word Count: 800

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, No use of y/n, non-gendered AFAB reader, edging, orgasm denial, dom!Simon

“Simon,” You plead, stretching out his name with a whine.

“Not yet.” He says, strict and gruff, his thick cock ruthlessly pounding into you. He’s been milking your g-spot for forty minutes now, cruelly edging your dripping cunt with his thick cock.

He’d already fucked you to the border of orgasm six times, waiting until your muscles tense and filthy praises turn to incoherent breathy nonsense before he suddenly stills his forceful thrusts to warm his cock inside of you, keeping you filled while revoking you of the hard pounding you craved.

His grip on your hips tighten, cutting off your desperate needy attempts to grind on him from your position underneath him.

His cock would twitch approvingly inside you at your pathetic begging and pleading at him to keep fucking you, to give you permission to finish around him.

As much as he wanted to give in to your bargaining, he remained disciplined, keeping his throbbing cock buried inside you as he watched your desperate pleading for him continuing to fuck you like the slut you are.

“Please, Si- Please!”

He’d just look down on you, donning his usual apathetic stare as he commits your flushed and desperate features to memory, observing your shaking hands as they cling to him in a prayer for relief.

“I’m not done watching you beg.” He grits, strict and even as he waits for the heat building in your lower abdomen to mellow before he can begin the process all over.

You let out another whine, throwing your head back against the pillows in defeat as your hips futilely struggle against his bruising grip, desperate to grind against the cock warming inside you.

He waits until you settle, your breathing slowing and your body relaxing before unforgivingly pulling his length out and plunging it all the way back in. He doesn’t giving you a warning, savoring the surprised gasp you make. Even he’s having a hard time restraining himself, not refraining from brutally pounding your dripping cunt.

Your loud and needy moans echo throughout the room with the sounds of your creaking bed, his flesh crashing into yours, the obscenely wet noises of your pussy receiving him over and over.

Your nails dig into strong shoulders, leaving crescent shaped indents on his skin as you struggle to accept his power. His muscles tense as he leans over you, hands still firm on your hips to prevent you from sliding away from him, keeping you close enough for him to bottom out inside you with each thrust.

You pick up where you left off, the euphoric white heat underneath your skin building steadily with each rhythmic slam into your abused cunt.

“Simon!” You hiccup, back arching off the mattress.

You’re sobbing now, the pathetic cries leaving you without thought.

“There we go, that’s good love.” He praises, voice low and gravely through his hitched breaths.

“Please - Si, please!”

“Tell you what love.” He offers, his chest obscuring your view as he reaches over the nightstand. You hear the scraping of metal on wood before he’s face to face with you again, holding up a quarter between two fingers as he continues milking your g-spot.

“Since I can’t decide, we’ll flip a coin. Heads, I’ll let you come. Tails, you have to wait another round.”

Your brows furrow at his proposition, mouth parting as you eye the shiny coin between his fingers while bouncing on his forceful cock. You’re ashamed at the warm flush that spreads to your lower abdomen at his power move. Leaving your orgasm up to fate, tauntingly dangling the hope for release you’re so desperate for inches from your face.

You let out another whine in between choked moans. A fuzzy haze settles over your thoughts from the overwhelming stimulation, you’re far beyond cock-drunk now, completely hypnotized by Simon and the pleasure he gives and rescinds at his own will.

Without missing a beat, he rests the quarter on the nail of his thumb, a smug grin creeping on his face at the worried look you gave the coin. He savored your pleading wide eyes, brows pinched in worry.

Time slows when he flicks the coin in the air, the shiny metal reflecting light as it rotates, holding your breath as your fate is left up to pure chance.

You thoughtlessly beg the coin, and Simon gives a pleased hum at your shameless desperation.

He catches it with his hand, taking his time as he sets the coin on his opposite arm and keeps it covered. He cups his fingers around it as he takes a peek, shielding it from your prying eyes, an arrogant smirk creeping on his face as you lift your head to see.

He slowly extends his arm out to you, his hips not having let up on your dripping cunt in the slightest.

“Guess it’s your lucky day, love.”

Original Works Masterlist

[zyettemoon1800]

Hi! Can you possibly write a NSFW alphabet fir hobie brown?

Aftercare

He is so loving after y'all are done. He will go run you both a bath while he gets you both something to eat. However, if you don't want to move or eat anything, then he will just get a towel and clean you off, and make you drink a cup of water before going to bed. If you are also a Spiderman/ spider woman he will make some lame excuse to Miguel as to why yall you can't leave the bed.

Body part

On him, he loves his hands and how they grip your plush stomach or thighs or how he can make you messy in under ten minutes.

Cum

Though he loves you and wants to spend the rest of his life with you, he does not want any kids as of right now and he is not a fan of wrapping it up so he will most likely just pull out and cum on your stomach, face, ass, or back. However, if you are on the pill and you don't mind, he will happily cum in you.

Dirty Secret

I can see Hobie as an exhibitionist. He wouldn't mind taking you underneath a table, on top of a skyscraper, or in an alleyway. However, the one place that he wants to do it more than ever is in Miguel's office. Just the thought of Miguel catching yall makes him ready to explode.

Experience

He is not a man-whore however he has had his fair share of bedroom guests.

Favourite Position

Any position that has you on top of him. He hates the idea that women should only be a bottom and will fight anyone when he says that having women on top is even better. He also likes it when you sit on his face. Weight is not a thing he cares about and he wouldn't mind suffocating beneath a fat pussy and some thick thighs.

Goofy

He is not an overly goofy person when you two are having sex. He might crack a few especially if it's your first time and he is just trying to lighten the mood and get you to relax.

Hair

He does not shave and is a firm believer that you should not do it either. The hair is there for a reason so let it be. Now if you wanna trim it or make your bush into some cool shapes, he is all on board. Depending on what shape you are trying to do, he might just do it with you so yall can match.

Intimacy

It is not rare for him to be seen hanging off of you in some way or another. It's not that is jealous or anything, he just loves being by you.

Jack off

If you are not around and he really needs to rub one off then he will jack off. Always if you are not in the mood, then he will take care of himself

Kinks

Slight Daddy Dom kink

Slight Breeding kink

BDSM ( can go both ways)

Cum Play

Pet Play ( on your part)

Food Kink

Location

He usually will just go into your or his room because he knows that it is the safest option. However, he will also do it on top of a random skyscraper or somewhere in the Spider HQ.

Motivation

Just sit on his lap or bend down to pick up something and he is already to through you on the nearest surface.

No

He is not sharing you with anyone and he will not do anything that you are uncomfortable with or anything too risky

Oral

He is much more into giving than receiving when it comes to orals. He prefers to be buried in you more than anything. However, he wouldn't mind if you gave him a blowjob as a way to get him up in the morning.

Pace

His pace can change from a flip of a coin. Somedays wants to go hard and fast to get rid of any stress that he has, while other times he is soft and sensual.

Quickies

Yes, especially when he should be out on a mission or on patrol

Risk

This man will fuck you in an alleyway by a very busy street and won't stop even if he hears people getting close to yall

Stamina

On a good day he could go maybe three times with ten-minute breaks in between and a round could last for about 20-30 minutes.

Toys

He doesn't mind you using toys on him or on yourself. He is a fan of vibrators and handcuffs.

Unfair

If you are being a brat and just giving him a hard time for no reason then he will edge you for an hour or two and no amount of crying or pleading will make him stop.

Volume

He has always been a vocal person so of course that would extend to the bedroom. He will be in your ear moaning and groaning while calling you a good girl or a slut all depends on what you fancy.

Wildcard

He is known for just throwing you over his shoulder he wants your attention. It doesn't matter who you are talking to.

X-ray

He is about 7 inches soft and 8.5 inches hard. He also has the Jacob's ladder piercing.

Yearning

You really don't have to do much to get him excited, however, he is a sucker for some short shorts or a body con dress. Seeing your curves and rolls just spill over just does something to him.

Zzz…

He doesn't go to sleep directly. He will make sure you are all good and he may play with his guitar for an hour before cuddling up with you.

[bumblebugwrites]

Borrowed and Blue

Pairing: Anthony Lockwood x fem!Reader

Summary: In another brilliant plot to keep the agency afloat, Lockwood decides to marry you for tax benefits. Only he seemed to have forgotten to let you know. With an inspector from DEPRAC coming to ensure the legitimacy of your marriage, what’s left but to tell you the truth? Only you don’t take it too well. And you happen to be the world’s worst liar.

Warnings: Cursing, Minor angst, Unedited writing.

A/N: So “Lover” coded that I had to indulge myself with the title.

Word Count: 3.1k 

“Luce, I’ll need you to go to Satchell’s and pick some salt-bombs; we’ve been running pretty low lately. And George, once you’ve hit the Archive for the day, if you could–”

As Lockwood’s incessant directions continued, you allowed your head to slump forward so as to obscure his looming figure with the shape of the quickly cooling mug in your hands.

“Oh, and that reminds me (Y/N), the inspector’s coming round this afternoon to ensure the validity of our marriage, so I’ll need you to be prepared for that.” That sentence alone was enough to pull you away from your own thoughts.

“Excuse me?” The question was followed by a soft chuckle, the kind you only managed when you’d been caught off guard.

“Did I forget to tell you about the visit?” 

“You’re joking, right?”

Across the small table, George cleared his throat awkwardly, moving to make his escape before Lucy’s sweater-clad arm shot out, pulling him back into his seat, fully enthralled with the happenings before her.

“Lockwood?” From his place at the counter, he hummed back in response. Still, the brunet had busied himself at an unprecedented pace with making a piece of toast and refused to turn his head in acknowledgment.

“This is a joke, right? Because I would know if we were actually married, right?” He made no answer, but his avoidance of your gaze had already been enough to send you over the edge, and you nearly reeled as a physical spike of panic shot through your core.

“Anthony Lockwood, you answer me right now.” You were standing now and teetering on the edge of making your way out into the entry and returning with some choice words and your rapier.

“Well, it’s not like you missed the marriage. I did bring you along.”

“What?”

“You remember that day I brought you with me to the Register Office?”

“You said you needed someone to co-sign the water bill.”

“I gave you a ring–”

“You said you got that out of one of those coin machines full of toys! I thought it was just a silly gift!”

“Right, well, I’m not buying you another wedding ring, so you had better still have it.”

“Lockwood! You can’t just marry someone without asking!” By now, you had left your seat to jab angrily at his chest as you marked each new point. From her place beside George, Lucy slurped at her tea.

“Look, I had already mortgaged the house to hell and back, and we needed the money desperately, so I figured an extra tax write-off couldn’t hurt.” And though it shouldn’t have, the rage quelled itself a little.

“Why didn’t you just ask me?” But your voice lacked the anger from before, hitting sharper as each word was tinged with hurt.

“You would have said no. And besides, you’re a terrible liar.” Lockwood flashed you with his signature smile at that last bit, and you couldn’t help the warmth that began to bloom deep within you. You had to admit, being married to Lockwood wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world. Especially with the insufferable feelings you’d been housing for the boy for the last year and a half. Still, this was not how you wanted things to go. 

“But wait, that trip to the Register’s Office was at least a year ago. Why are they coming for a visit now?” One of Lockwood’s hands which had planted itself on your shoulder in a soothing gesture, leapt up to scratch at the back of his neck.

“Well, the thing is, because we aren’t legally adults and neither of us have any parents to sign off on a marriage, I had to pull some strings with DEPRAC to get the license to even go through. So now, every year, to make sure everything is all legal, or whatever–” Lockwood raised his hands to form air quotes around the word legal but quickly retracted them as you swatted at the gesture.

“--they’ve insisted on sending an agent to perform a kind of check-in. To make sure we’re still in love and all that.”

“Still?” George questioned, only to be met with a prompt smack to the head from Lucy.

“So are you saying we could lose our jobs over this?”

“Let’s not forget the house,” supplied Lucy from behind her mug.

“And the house?” Lockwood didn’t answer immediately, instead selecting to fix his eyes on the floor.

“Presumably, yes, that could be one outcome–”

“Oh my god,” George groaned, moving his glasses to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“But not if all goes well,” Lockwood reassured the group.

“Right, so let me get this straight, the fate of our careers–”

“And our home,” Lucy interjected once more.

“And our home, is all in the hands of (Y/N), a notoriously bad liar, lying to a Fittes agent about a marriage she was unaware of until this morning?” George questioned.

“That would be correct.”

“We are so fucked.”

It had taken Lucy an hour to calm you down, let alone lure you out from under the covers of your shared bed. 

“I’ll kill him if you’d like me to.”

“Urgh, it’s not that, Luce, it’s just–” 

“It’s just that you wanted things to go differently?” Lucy raised a suggestive eyebrow as a slow smirk spread across her face, but there was no malice in her look. Embarrassed, you turned to hide your face in the pillow beside you.

“Look, Lockwood’s a twat, but he cares about you, and I’m sure if you asked, he would end the whole thing in a second. He was just, well, I hate to say it, but he was just trying to look out for us. In his own, extremely fucked up Lockwood way.” Lucy added the last sentence in a quick attempt to amend the ever-souring scowl on your face.

“And hey, who knows, maybe something will finally come out of this. I mean, you have to admit, being married is pretty romantic.” She smiled at you, and it was soft, encouraging almost.

“Besides, it’s not like the two of you weren’t going to end up together anyways. If anything, he’s just streamlined the process.” With that, you tightened your grasp on the pillow, swinging it in a deadly arc aimed at her head. Just then, a third voice interrupted your siege.

“Oh, hi Luce, mind if I have a quick word with my wife?” 

Your eyes grew wide as they took in Lockwood’s lanky figure, leaning with ease against the railing at the head of the stairs.

“Too soon, Lockwood,” you grumbled, and for a moment, the suave smirk didn’t reach his eyes. Still, he moved slowly into the room as Lucy made her exit, throwing you a thumbs up as she descended from out of the attic.

Taking a seat on the edge of the bed, careful not to crush your legs beneath the covers, he appeared almost nervous before his hand disappeared into his pocket and rematerialized, holding a small velvet box.

“This is for you.” He smiled to himself, sweet and boyish, as he was in moments like these. Moments with just you two. As you moved to take the box from his grasp, his fingers touched yours, lingering against them for just a second before pulling away.

The box was old. That much was immediately obvious. And the hinges keeping it together were rusty enough to make opening it a bit of an effort, but when the lid lifted, your breath caught in your throat.

“Oh, Lockwood, it’s beautiful.” You sat in awe of the small ring nestled within the box’s velvet folds. It was simple but elegant, with a single gem at its center, and you couldn’t help but reach out to trace the smooth metal of its shank.

“Where did you–”

“It was my mothers.” His voice was vulnerable, barely above a whisper.

“Lockwood, I can’t–”

“It’s fine, really. Besides, it's just for today.” But you could see the stress the simple action caused him from the way he toyed with the wedding band now looped around his own finger.

 “Anyways, I really just came up here to go over the plan.” 

“The plan?” You balked, eyes snapping away from the heirloom in your hands.

“Yes, we need a story, of course. How we fell in love, how we came to be married. You should know our wedding anniversary as well. April 14th, remember that.”

“April 14th? But that’s today.”

“And?”

“I– I haven’t gotten you anything.”

“Well, it's not like this is a real marriage.”

“Oh. Right.”

“I’m thinking we say I fell in love first, then you. Women love that sort of thing–”

“No, no, we should say we’ve been in love since the moment we met,” you argued, thinking of your own feelings.

“Well, that’s not very realistic.”

“Doesn’t mean it isn– can’t be true.”

“I suppose so.”

“Maybe we should both just think of our own moment. When we fell in love with the other.” Lockwood seemed suddenly to choke on air but quickly coughed his way past it.

“Great idea.”

“We can say you proposed on a bridge overlooking the Thames,” you suggested, but Lockwood only scoffed at the idea.

“Actually, I was thinking we could say it happened on a mission. Maybe you were hurt, and I was afraid I might lose you forever. That when I realized you were alright, I asked you to marry me on the spot. That I didn’t see the point in wasting any more time on anyone else.”

Your mouth grew dry at his suggestion, and the best you could attempt was a meek nod in response.

“Perfect,” he stood quickly, as though brushing off the intimacy of the moment, and began to head for the stairs, “I’ll leave you to finish getting ready then.” By the time you’d managed to grasp your words, he had disappeared from your line of sight, leaving you alone with your thoughts and his mother’s ring. 

You were descending the stairs when the knock came, and you felt your hand move to twist anxiously at the ring newly decorating your finger. At the bottom of the stairs, Lockwood turned his head just in time to meet your gaze, the nervous look plastered across his face softening into one of ease. Probably just for show. You reassured yourself, straightening your shoulders as you reached the final step. Just before opening the door, the boy beside you cast some final words in your direction.

“Remember, I’ll do most of the talking.”

You could only nod in response as the door swung open, revealing the DEPRAC agent. She seemed immediately to be a severe woman with a stern look set deep within her face and eyes that scanned each of you suspiciously before entering the home. 

“Is there somewhere you’d prefer for me to conduct my interview.”

“That would be the library,” answered Lockwood, jumping into action, “(Y/N) love, how about you pop the kettle on and maybe grab some biscuits.” 

“Of course.” You smiled, but it was forced, the only mirth in your soul emerging from the sure knowledge that George would have a field day with Lockwood later on for his failure to follow the ‘Biscuit Rule’.

As he departed for the library, guiding the woman along with him, you could already hear the echos of his charming chatter as they bounced off the walls of the home. Everything will be fine, the words looped in a self-soothing mantra, filling every corner of your head as you prayed to any god that would listen to get through this interview in one piece.

“And when would you say you fell in love with Miss. (L/N)?” The woman made no reaction to her question, simply opting to continue scribbling notes on her pad. Thus far, Lockwood had done a successful job of veering most questions away from you, though it would be a miracle if your nerves had gone unnoticed between the incessant bouncing of your leg and your consumption of three separate cups of tea over the span of thirty minutes.

“In love?” Lockwood stuttered beside you, and you and the woman turned simultaneously to inspect him closer, his confident facade nearly shattered at the mention of the word. Still, he recovered rather quickly, retrieving his easy smile only a second later.

“Yes, well, I assume that came before the marriage.”

“Of course. Let’s see, then.” He stopped for a moment as though pondering the question though the movement of his hand as he toyed with his ring confirmed to you he was just nervous. In an action you could only hope appeared natural, you reached over, stilling his fidgeting fingers by lacing them with your own. Lockwood looked suddenly at you, and the quiet crack in his performance showed itself only to your eyes.

“It was six months after we first met. We’d been researching for a big mission all day, and when we finally got home, I passed out. I woke up; it was probably three in the morning by then. Came down to the kitchen for some water and– and there you were, in the library, fast asleep.” Lockwood had long since stopped looking at the inspector. “You were in my armchair. I’d probably seen you in that armchair a thousand times. And you had a case file spread out over your chest. You looked ridiculous. But I knew immediately something had changed. I could feel it as I carried you up to the attic that night and the next morning while I was sat listening to you laugh at George’s stupid jokes. Like those feelings that were just a bit of a bother before were eating me alive. It’s– It’s how I feel every time I look at you: like I’m more afraid than I’ve ever been in my life and yet perfectly at home at the same time.” He was quick to look away when he finished, flashing the DEPRAC agent with a smile and leaving you frozen in the wake of his words, struck by his ability to manipulate the truth.

“Just one more question then. Ms. (L/N), marriage at sixteen that’s not something you see every day. What made you say yes?”

Lockwood’s eyes flashed quickly to your face, but as he opened his mouth, the woman quieted him with a motion of her hand. 

“Not you, Mr. Lockwood. I’d like to hear from Ms. (L/N).”

This had not been within the parameters of your preparation. Lockwood’s favorite color, how he took his tea, the date of your anniversary? Easy breezy. You might have even been able to fumble your way through how you’d fallen in love with the arrogant bastard, given its basis in the truth. But you weren’t really married, and you’d never really said yes, so where did that leave you? And like a saving a grace, a question made itself known in your head. If Lockwood had really asked you, why would you have said yes?

“I suppose I didn’t quite understand the proposal at first either.” That much was true; for fucks sake, you’d missed the thing entirely. “But after a while, it made sense. I mean, not a day goes by we aren’t risking our lives for our work. There’s no guarantee of any future with a job like this, so why not marry young? Otherwise, we might not marry at all.” The second part came out rushed, the lie forcing its way past your lips. It wasn’t in your character to be impulsive, even if time seemed to be your enemy. Still, you forced yourself to delve deeper. To seek a truthful answer to that lingering question. Your breathing slowed.

“And then, one day, I think I realized that for me, it was always going to be Lockwood. That had he asked me five or ten or even twenty years down the line when we were old and boring, I’d of still said yes. Because– Well, because I couldn’t imagine spending my life with anyone else.” 

You turned your head slowly to catch Lockwood’s eyes lingering on your face. His expression was unreadable. Your brow creased in your efforts to learn more from the set of his features, and for a moment, you lost yourself in him. 

The woman’s notebook snapped shut. You felt yourself scramble from the loveseat you’d been sharing with the boy, and he followed close behind.

“That’s all from me. The agency will contact you in a few days to follow up, but as far as I’m concerned, you’ve passed.”

Without giving time for the information to be digested, she stood and left. Turning to face Lockwood, you were quick to pull his mother’s ring from your finger and place it in his palm.

“Well, now that that’s finished–”

“(Y/N)--” 

“I’ll be in the attic–”

“(Y/N).”

“Lots of research, probably.”

“How did you do that.” The look on his face was one of disbelief when you finally met his gaze again.

“What?” You knew what.

“You know what. You can’t lie to save your life. How did you–”

“Really don’t see how this is important, Lockwood–”

“Were you telling the truth?” You were silent for a moment.

“You got us into this. I could’ve– I would’ve stayed silent forever, but you had to come up with another insufferable plot. And I’m sorry, I can’t lie like it’s some sort of second language– That was quite good, by the way, the way you made me feel– made it seem like there was some chance in hell that you loved me back–”

He dragged you in all at once, catching you by the waist and interrupting your scattered thoughts with his lips. Kissing you. Soft at first, but deeper, harder, as you brought your hands up to his neck. As you kissed back. By the time he pulled away, you were breathless.

“It was never– I was never– God if I thought I could lie my way through this, I would’ve asked George or Lucy even. It had to be you because– because it was always real with you. I have loved you ever since I met you. That night in the library only confirmed it.”

“I thought that was unrealistic.”

“Maybe for someone who's never been in love with you.”

“Ask me again if I’ll marry you.”

“Again?” His eyebrows raised at the implication that there had been a first time.

“Just do it, you twat.”

“(Y/N) (L/N), will you marry me?”

“A million times yes, Anthony Lockwood. A million times, yes.”

[danielgold-16]

The Urn

On a scorching greek day, Daniel was hiking in his gold jersey and shorts. Leather boots on his feet, he was exploring the hills around Mycenae.

He heard from the locals that the view from the top of a particular hill was stunning, so he had set up early that day to explore the area.

After leaving the car, he had started the hike, and after three hours, covered in sweat, he had made it to the top of the hill.

The views were indeed stunning, but very soon, something in the distance attracted his attention. There was definitely something over there, glistening.

He started walking towards the object and found a gold coin lying on the ground. It seemed strangely familiar, so he bent down and tried to pick it up, but his hand passed right through it.

He would have tried again, but suddenly, the ground caved in under his feet.

He fell into the darkness and hit the ground some ten meters below.

Pain brought him back.

“Fuck, I’ve broken my arm”.

As his eyes adjusted to the relative darkness, he could see that he was in some sort of a tomb.

The paintings on the wall depicted some men dressed in gold and some dressed in a shiny black material.

He stood slowly, his arm sending electric shocks throughout his body and started looking around.

“There must be an entrance somewhere”

He took a sock off and wrapped it around a piece of wood. He then grabbed his lighter and set the sock on fire.

“It’s not going to burn for long, better hurry up…”

He was in a round chamber, without any opening except the one he had come through. In the middle of the room, an urn stood on top of a round column.

He approached the column and saw that there was only one word written on the urn.

“Andronos”.

The light went off. Surprised, Daniel moved, and his broken arm hit the urn.

“Fuuuuuuuck”.

He fell to the ground and heard the urn shattering on the ground next to him.

He tried to remove his other sock, but as he was feeling around, he started to feel something creeping on his arm. Something almost liquid. Something cold. Something warm. Something alive that was quickly expanding until his entire torso was feeling colder, then warmer.

In the dark, deafening silence of the tomb, he heard a vibrant voice. A voice coming from within his head.

“Finally free…”.

Daniel passed out.

Ready to serve, to become part of something greater? Join the Golden Army. Whether you take the path of a player bro or embrace the hive as a drone, there's a place for you here. Reach out to @polo-drone-009, @brodygold or @hades-golden19 to start your transformation. Find your purpose, commit to the gold, and let the team shape you. 💛

[nattyswann]

I’m not that bad. Am I?

Parings: sub!reader x dom!ace

Warnings: not really any warnings because most of this is just bickering between Ace and y/n but there is a bit of smut at the end!

Summary: if there was one thing you absolutely despised, it was pirates. You’ve encountered a few of them and they all were horrible people. Well…except the most recent one you’ve met..

• You can still remember the first time you met him. You hated his guts. Couldn’t stand the way he carried himself and how sweet he was to everyone around him. Well..the truth is you only really hated him cause you knew he was a pirate.

• “Can you guys believe it?! Firefist Ace is in the center of town, fighting a group of bandits!” Now, this you had to see. You followed the group of people. When you finally pushed your way through the large crowd, you couldn’t believe your eyes. Ace was putting those bandits on their asses. He used his crazy devil fruit power to handle them like they were ants. “Are you ready to admit it?”

• The leader of the bandit crew got up but he seemed like he was in rough shape after going a few rounds with Ace. “Screw you!” The bandit yelled out before charging at Ace. “Come on. Have you learned nothing!” Ace yelled back as he sent a Firefist straight at the wicked man. “All I needed you to do was admit that you tried to steal this young lady’s coin bag. This all could have been avoided.” Ace blew the tiny flame from his pointer finger as if it were a gun he just fired.

• The residents of your town cheered for Ace while he tried to make his exit less heroic as possible. “Please.” He held a hand up as he scratched the back of his head. “No need to thank me.” The townspeople continued their joyous cheers and applause. Ace hated this part of saving people. The part where they all surround him to offer him gifts to show their thanks. Ace just wanted to be a good guy and then go on his way.

• Ace got through the people and tried to waved them off but as soon as he turned around, there was a second large group of people. Now this was the part that he LOVED. The part where all the young ladies of the town came to thank him. “That was so heroic! Thank you for saving me.” The woman he defended rubbed his arm as she thanked him. “You are so strong. Where are you from?” Another woman asked while she stroked his long hair. You watched as the women fell head over heals for him. You weren’t like them though. Cause you knew his secret.

• When Ace finally got away from the village and out of sight from everyone he pulled out his log post. “Dammit. How much longer is this gonna take. I can’t stay on this island anymore. I need to set sail.” Just then another young woman approached him. That young woman being you. “Set sail?”

• Ace jumped up when he heard the voice of a woman behind him. He quickly shoved the log post back in his bag and looked over his shoulder to face you. “Oh, hey there.” He flashed you a smile. “What are you doing so far away from your town? Won’t they be upset if your wandering alone?” You didn’t respond as you just glared at him. You didn’t like him and wasn’t gonna fall for his charms like all the other townspeople and helpless damsels. “I know what you are.” You crossed your arms. “You’re a pirate. No better than the dirt on the bottom of my shoe.”

• “Oh? That’s really what you think?” “Yep. Im not sure why you’re even here.” Ace scoffed and his smile quickly went away. “Someone’s daddy raised them with a complex.” You furrowed your eyebrows at his statement. “What’s that supposed to mean?!” “It means that you think you’re better than me just because I’m a pirate.” Ace put his backpack on and strutted past you to start walking back towards the village. “Where do you think you’re going?”

• “Dont worry about me so much. Im just a lowly pirate after all.”

• Ohhh this guy was grinding your gears. You didn’t wanna allow him to just walk back into town but who were you to try to stop a crazy pirate. He could snap and attack a girl like you. If only you really knew what ace was thinking. He was never gonna hurt you. He would never hurt a women. He actually liked you. Thought you were really pretty.

• A few hours later and nightfall had come. Ace needed a place to settle for the night before he can take off tomorrow morning. He keeps walking throughout the town, in hopes of finding a sign that is welcoming a overnight stay. When he finally arrived at a building that had a sign that said one night there was only 40 berries, he couldn’t pass up that deal. Upon walking in, he got greeted by two women and he gave them a smile before bowing. When he lifted his head, he couldn’t help but chuckle at the face he was seeing. It was you! It was the pretty chick who was all mad at him earlier. Who woulda guessed that her parents owned this inn? Small village, huh?

• Once Ace got his room he began to settle in before hearing a light knock on his door. When he opened it, another smile creeped on his face. “We have got to stop meeting like this.” He said as he leaned on the doorway. “I don’t wanna meet you at all. In any circumstance.” He gave you a confused look while he tilted his head. “Yet…you came to my door..”

• “I work here. I still have a job to do.” You then forced a smile back at him. “Could I get you anything else before you turn in for the night? A glass of water or a snack before bed, perhaps?” You said through your gritted teeth. You couldn’t believe that you had to do this. If anything, you wanted to punch him in his face and curse him out for tricking your parents like their fools. “Mhhh.” He put his finger on his chin as if he were actually thinking. “I could use some company tonight. It gets lonely on the seas. So I haven’t spend the night with a women in a long time.”

• That was it. The last straw that made you snap. You took your hand and slapped it across his face. Ace was clearly caught off guard for a moment but he remained nice and let his smile return to his face. “You’re strong..” The man put a hand over the spot you slapped before continuing. “but I think you misunderstood me. I only want someone to talk too. Nothing more, I promise.”

• You scoffed but then thought about it. This was actually perfect. All you had to do was give him a few minutes of your time and then you ask him for a favor. That favor being to stay away and never return back here. “If I talk with you then you have to promise me that you will pack up and leave by the morning.” You said as you stomped your foot. “So if I promise to leave by the morning, you will stay here and keep me company?” You nodded your head and awaited his answer.

• “Deal.” He opened the door more for you to come inside. “Come in. Let’s talk.”

• You both sat and talked for about ten minutes until ace managed to slip in a compliment that caught you way off guard. You tried to hide the sudden blush that appeared on your face but Ace caught a peak of it.

• “I see ya’ blushing over there.” You hid your face and turned away from the man. “Barely! You must think I’m easy.” “Not at all, hun. I just think you’re really beautiful when you get all shy like that.” He put his elbow on the armrest of the car he sat in and leaned on his the palm of his hand while staring at you. “I also think you’re beautiful when you get all mad at me.”

• You guys sat for longer and just talked and talked about various different things. “This was nice. I surprisingly enjoyed this talk.” You quietly said. “I have been quite lonely and don’t really find much people to talk to besides my parents and the occasional fling. So thank you.” The tension in the room had started heating up way faster than you had expected. For some reason you had started to feel attraction for this pirate. When talking wasn’t enough to smooth the loneliness in each other’s hearts, Ace took it a step further and put a hand on your thigh. “Just know that you don’t have to be lonely all the time.”

• When you felt him reach your skin, you jumped a bit but let him rest his hand there. He was sort of right. You hated sleeping in an empty bed at night. So maybe tonight you didn’t HAVE to be alone. Needless to say, one thing led to another and now he has you right where he wanted you. In his bed with his hands roaming your body. “I can’t believe I’m letting this happen.” You grunted. Ace immediately paused and leaned up. “If you don’t want too then that’s fine. You can leave and I wont follow.” He put his hands up and gave you an opportunity to dip if you changed your mind. When you remained in the bed, Ace smirked and kissed you on the lips. “I knew you wanted me.”

• ��Shh. Don’t be too loud, baby.” Fast forward a few minutes later, here Ace was - whispering in your ear while he rocked his hips into yours. “Your mother and father are just on the other side of this wall, aren’t they? What would happen if they found out their innocent daughter were gettting fucked by a pirate?” You wanted to hate him so badly but the way he was abusing your hole felt too euphoric. How could you betray yourself and let a pirate like him smooth talk his way between your legs.

• “Aghh!” You groaned out before ace could quickly put a hand over your mouth. “This isn’t working. I need you to be more silent for me or else we’ll get caught.” You reached up to remove ace’s hand from your face. “I can’t, Ace..it’s too much.” Your sentences came out all moany and broken but the way you said his name got Ace all riled up.

• “Really?” You could feel his lips curl into a smirk against your skin. “I could have swore I was no more than a dirty pirate to you. Now, you wanna moan my name?”

• You shook your head and tried to suck up your tears, not wanting Ace to see you crying from pleasure. “Stop it. It’s not like I like you or anything! I just..” you tried to think of how to word it to where he won’t get his ego fed. “I just wanted someone to make me feel good. I haven’t felt this good in a long time, Ace.”

• Ugh. Why would you tell him that. Out of all the other ways you could have worded that. Ace giggled and kissed you sloppily on the neck. “I bet you haven’t. You’ve never been fucked by a pirate before. I’m glad I’m your first one.”

• “Don’t get cocky. It’s not like you have my virginity.” “Don’t need it.” Ace took his hands and started fondling your tits while ever so often, suckling on your sensitive nipples. “I’m just glad I got to have you in general. You’re such a prize, babe.” The pirate didn’t let up on his fast strokes into your womb. He was minutes away from bursting inside but he needed to wait until you came for him. Ace had to make sure he exceeded your standards and make sure you change your mind about pirates.

• “Mmhh! Ace I’m c-cumming!” You wrapped your arms around his back to hold him closer. “Feels so good!” When Ace felt your pussy squeeze him and squirt on his cock, he had to pull out before he accidentally let himself go inside you. “Come on. Finish cumming on my cock so I can cum too. I’m almost there!”

• “Not inside!” Ace shushed you. “I know babygirl. Just let me take care of you.” He said as he swiftly pulled out and started stroking himself to finish on your body, painting your stomach in his white liquid. “See? Your pirate boy knows exactly what you want.”

• When you felt the bed shift and caught Ace standing up, you whined. “What are you doing?” He turned to you and giggled at your cute voice and expression. “Well we had a deal. Didn’t we?” He started putting his clothes on. “You told me to hit the road right after.” He looked back over at you and hated seeing the upset look you had. “Unless…you would rather I stay..?” “I mean..you did pay for a full night..it would be a waste of berries.”

• He threw his clothes back on the ground and hopped back in the bed with you. “Ah. So you actually like this little pirate?” You chuckled and covered your blush. “N-No! I just…think I judged you a bit too harshly..” you felt embarrassed to say it but you were wrong. Maybe not ALL pirates are bad..