#and she tosses him a skirt without thinking and before she tells him that he doesnt need try it on

[taintedcigs]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ YOURS, MINE, OURS. ghostface!dom!steddie x fem reader

— summary : you ask your boyfriends to surprise you in ghostface masks.

— word count : 4.6k

— warnings : 18+ ONLY, minors dni!!!, smut, prn without plot, p in v, bj!!, or*l (m and f receiving), fingering, hj, unprotected sex, mmf/mfm threesome (mostly mfm for this one but they do stuff too), dom/sub dynamics, mean!dom!eddie, mean!dom!steve, sub!reader, very tiny knife play, spitting?, degrading, petnames (baby, slvt, whore, princess, etc.)

a/n : not proof-read >:( whoever came up w soft dom!eddie and mean dom!steve combo i owe u my life! also kinda wanna make dom!steddie a series with various one-shots but? what do yall think?

You had talked about this many times before.

Expressed how badly you wanted the two of them to fuck you in that Ghostface mask.

So when they finally agreed with the plan and came in through your window, pining you against your bed, you couldn't help the lustful gasps that left your plump lips, which were already muffled by your own laced panties that they stuffed into your mouth.

"She's already moanin' for us," Eddie purred, tilting his head, his eyes dripping with lust behind the mask as he traced the contours of your face. "Such a desperate slut," Steve mocked further with a deep chuckle.

Your tiny skirt was flipped upward on your stomach, and both of their hands were roaming your body. The sight of your pantieless, glistening cunt was enough to have both of the boys' blood rush to their cock, painfully prodding through their jeans.

Both of them were quick to take off their masks, tossing them aside with their knives while they toyed with you. Eddie held you by your wrists, and Steve's lips were sloppily latched to your neck, nibbling and licking every spot he could find, rough enough to mark your body in every place possible. "Touch her," he murmured toward Eddie, who nodded frantically.

Steve ordered both of you around with ease, his cock growing harder at the fact that the two of you were so quick to obey his orders, that submissive look was embedded in both of your eyes.

Eddie's calloused hands were rough as they landed on your thigh, you yelped quickly, "P-please," you whined, voice still muffled.

"I can't hear you, sweetheart, what did ya say?" Eddie mocked with a sly chuckle. "Poor little baby just wants to be stuffed with our cock," Steve whispered against your neck, you whined an incoherent babble to them, and Steve huffed before he yanked away the panties from your lips so you could speak.

“Yes!” You whined out of breath. “More!” You pouted at him all brattily, earning a harsh slap on your ass.

"Behave." Steve warned with dark eyes, Eddie's one hand still had a tight grip on your wrist while his other hand was quick to snake between your thighs, fingers teasing at your clit.

His hands let go of your wrists and his face slid down to your thighs, lip ghosting over your leg as he looked up at you with a sly smirk. Your body was burning with desire, you wanted to grip his head and push him further into your aching cunt, and just as you were about to reach for him, Steve had a harsh hold on you with a tut. "Nuh-uh," he mocked with a tilt of his head.

"You're gonna lay there and take what we fuckin' give you," he spat, his hands quick to retrieve the knife next to him, cutting your bra in one swift motion, both of the boys groaning at the sight of your breasts. You opened your mouth to tell him off, but he quickly interrupted you with the light graze of the knife on your skin.

The cold exhilarating touch of it had you arching your back, nipples quick to harden as both of them watched you smugly.

"So fuckin' desperate," Steve mocked, his gaze overblown with lust now, loving the way you submitted so easily and how much of a slut you were for them.

Your thighs closed around Eddie's head, desperate for him to give you something, anything. “Please,” you panted. Eddie looked at Steve for confirmation, who nodded with a sly smirk.

He was quick to slide a finger into your slick walls, curving his digits and pressing his lips against your cunt to suck on your clit, earning small cries with each of his movements. "You like that, honey?" You nodded frantically.

Steve cherished your whines and the shift of your hips to gain some more friction. He placed the knife aside before his mouth latched onto your nipples, both of them overstimulating you in every possible way, deliciously.

Steve dropped the firm hold on your wrists; instead, focusing on the bulge prodding against his tight pants, he stroked himself with a low whine that was dulled by your breasts that were attached to his lips. 

You wanted to take advantage of your free hands, take Eddie by his curls, and push his head further down, but you were too distracted by the two of them—the way their mouths moved and the way their hands roamed on your body. And, besides, you knew if you tried anything, both of them would have you crying out, mewling, to even have them fuck you.

You were beyond frustrated. The moment they came through your window with those masks and the moment they took them off, revealing their devilish smirks, your pussy ached at the sight.

"Look at our slut, Stevie, so fucked out with just our tongues, hmm?" Eddie said through gritted teeth, lapping up your juices in delight. You moaned in response, your heels digging further into the bed. You sounded like a woman possessed.

Steve let go of your nipples with a slight pop sound. "S'fuckin' loud for us today, aren't you, sweets?" He tutted with a tilt of his head. 

"Look at those pretty little glossy lips, Eds," he hummed, hand squishing your cheeks as his eyes devoured you whole.

Eddie looked up in awe, oggling your breasts with a shift of his hips. He needed some kind of friction. You looked perfect from this angle; your mouth stood agape with Steve's force on your cheeks, and tits glistening with his spit. He wanted nothing more than to watch them bounce up and down while he stuffed you full of his cock.

He continued his soft strokes on your clit, making you arch your back onto his mouth. "Think you need to have that mouth stuffed with something bigger than her panties, Stevie." Eddie suggested with a mocking grin.

"God, you're so fuckin' perfect, baby," He praised Eddie with a frustrated huff. "C'mere," he muttered. Eddie was quick to oblige, leaving you all whiney and frustrated as he reached for Steve.

"N-no!" You squealed out, "n-need more, need both of you." You huffed with a pout, looking at both of them with an innocent look.

The cold glare they gave you was enough to have your lips pressed tightly into a straight line, you knew if you went further with your brattiness, you'd be in for a long punishment, but you didn't want that, at least not today, not when your insides were pulsating with the need to be stuffed full of their cocks and their warm cum.

"Behave." Steve warned with a harsh grip on your face, making you look at his darkened gaze. "Eddie was such a good boy today," he praised again, turning his gaze toward Eddie's sickly sweet brown eyes.

"And you were nothing but a brat," he spat without even looking at you, making you pout further.

"'m sorry," you huffed. They paid no attention to you when Steve grabbed Eddie's chin harshly. Kissing him so roughly that his lips mashed against his teeth, making him yelp for more.

He swirled his tongue in Eddie's mouth, one hand discarding his curls messily, while the other was quick to free himself of his painful pants and even more painful boxers.

Revealing his hardened cock as it plopped against his stomach, making him hiss against the dizzying kiss. Pre-cum beaded from his deliciously pink slit, making your mouth water and your thighs dampen further and further the more you watched them.

You loved both of them dominating you, but seeing Steve so easily overpower both you and Eddie had your stomach in a twist. The sudden flip of a switch in Eddie between you and Steve was glorious, and it had you whining like a brat.

Steve stroked himself as he deepened the kiss, his deep brown eyes half shut with desire as he whined into Eddie's mouth, your core immediately vibrating with the ache for both of them.

He smeared the pre-cum sitting on his angry tip onto his length, fucking his hand roughly with a determined gaze on you.

Heat rushed to your cheeks and straight to your aching cunt as you watched your two boys with desire.

Eddie's gaze widened once he fully comprehended where the lewd noises were coming from. Steve jerked his thick cock, a stilled smirk plastered on his parted lips. Eddie didn't hesitate to help Steve out, his hand flying to take over as he stroked up his shaft, slow and steady.

Steve grunted into his mouth, eyes squeezed shut. You watched with your teeth dug into your lips, the more Eddie tugged at Steve's thick cock, the more Steve panted and bucked his hips further into Eddie's calloused hands, spurring you on and on.

Steve broke the kiss with a satisfied huff when he heard your strained groans, biting Eddie's bottom lip before he turned to you, "enjoying the show?" He mocked, licking his lips while he kept his stern gaze on you, and Eddie palmed Steve’s dick with the need to have his cum spurting all over the both of you.

You nodded with a slight huff, pupils blown with lust. "If you had been a good girl, you'd be the one stroking my cock," Steve hissed.

"Or better yet, I'd have you bouncin' on it." You whined loudly at that. Wanting nothing more than to have both of your boys filling your holes, any and all of them.

"P-please," you begged. "I'll be good, s-so good, I promise." You feigned an innocent look, a pout adorning your lips.

Your begging earned their attention as Eddie's movement on Steve slowed down, stopping completely when you continued. "Promise, I'll be so good, the bestest," you hummed, earning a warm smile from Eddie, who was too quick to soften up the moment you gave them those eyes.

Steve sighed a deep breath. "What'd ya think, baby?" He turned to Eddie, who was almost already drooling, his cock swelling more at the sight of your wet cunt, begging to be plunged into.

"Stevie," he whined. "Need to be inside of our lil' slut."

"Need to stuff all of her holes and show her who owns them." Eddie's tone was gentle toward Steve, his gaze on you was anything but. Deep brown eyes looking like they were ready to swallow you whole.

"Please, baby, I want to teach her what happens to bratty little sluts like her, hmmm?" Eddie almost growled, making blood rush straight through Steve's cock, twitching with need.

"So fuckin' perfect," Steve groaned when he pulled Eddie for another kiss, harsh and sloppy.

"Don't give into her too fast, baby. I know she's cute with her pouts and all, but we need to punish her, yeah?" Steve demanded, watching Eddie nod quickly once he got back to his first position, eyes hungrily watching you.

"Don't worry, Stevie, I'm gonna remind our baby who owns her," he said with a low growl, reaching down to grab your hips with both of his hands. Your breathing grew shallower the rougher he was with you.

"And make her never fuckin' forget that she's ours to use. Our personal little cock sleeve," his voice was more teasing now; that damned smirk played on the curve of his lips as his fingers slipped between your legs, quick to re-find their place, your gushing cunt giving him easy access.

You wanted to agree with him, and be good for both of them, but all that escaped your parted lips were strained moans, and your hips were quick to buck into his fingers, wanting him deeper and deeper.

"Oh look how she's squirmin' under my touch Stevie," Eddie hummed, and Steve watched in awe. Both of you were driving him fucking crazy.

"You love that, don't you, baby? You love being used by us. Love being filled and stuffed in all of your holes, hmmm?" He frowned mockingly.

"The perfect fuckin' cum dump," he hummed, the stroke of his fingers alternating between slow and fast, making your head dizzy as the lewd sounds of Eddie fingering you filled the room.

"P-please," you whispered, eyes squeezed shut. "M-more," you cried out, eyes quick to become glossy.

"So fuckin' mouthy today," Eddie tutted with a disapproving sound, head turning to Steve. "You wanna take care of that, baby?" He asked all sweetly; his fingers were sliding quickly between your slick folds, sending a shot of desire straight to Steve's cock.

Normally, he would've told Eddie to watch it for trying to act like he was in charge, but he loved Eddie ordering you around like this, and he loved to see you squirm underneath him.

Steve tutted with his brows pinched together. "Thought you wanted to be our good girl, honey," he hummed, fingers slowly stroking your cheek. You looked up at him all doe-eyed. "I-I am! I promise!" You weakly protested between your whines; Eddie's fingers were so agonizingly slow that you were trying to rock into his movement.

He heaved a sigh of breath. "Look at you, doll. Your gloss is all messed up," he said in a low tone, gripping your chin harshly to force you to look up at him.

His fingers were quick to graze against your lips. "Let me fix it," he hummed. With half-lidded eyes and whines escaping your lips, you nodded obediently.

His other hand grabbed his hardened cock, giving it a few tugs before he slapped it across your cheek, earning a shocked gasp from you. Your eyes widened with excitement as you watched him.

His fingertips found their way to his pink slit, and a hissed sound escaped as he swiped his thumb over his angry tip, spreading some of the pre-cum before he dragged it on your mouth, smearing it all over your lips.

A sly grin overtook his features as he dragged his cock all over your lips, making sure each part of your lips was drenched in his semen.

Before he could tell you to taste him, your tongue darted out of your mouth, a loud moan escaping your lips as you eagerly lapped up all of his juices, looking up at him with a heavenly gaze and a sugary smile.

Steve looked back at you dumbfounded. Surges of pleasure coursed through his veins like electricity, and his balls felt so much heavier when you slightly parted your lips to take his index fingers in your mouth. You sucked at it greedily, faux innocent eyes never leaving his.

Eddie's movements came to a halt as he watched the two of you, both of their cock hardened to the point of pain, ready to release just from the filthy sounds you made as you sucked on Steve's fingers.

Steve slowly retracted his digit from your mouth. "Open," he muttered, voice low. You parted your lips happily, watching the way he fucked his hand. You wanted nothing more than to have him filling your mouth and to feel his warm cum shooting down your throat. Just the thought of it had you closing your thighs together unashamedly.

"Let me see that tongue," he purred, grabbing your chin. You stuck your tongue out without any complaint, giving him the same gaze that had both of them groan in unison.

"Such a good girl for us, aren't you?" He hummed, making you nod frantically before he spat into your mouth, you almost gasped at the invasion of his fluids in your mouth, but it warmed your tongue quickly. "Swallow." He demanded, and you happily swallowed, watching the way his deep brown eyes squinted in satisfaction.

"You're so fuckin' perfect," he grunted. "That filthy fucking mouth, and those perfect tits," he hummed in excitement, fisting his cock roughly, "and just the sight of that tight cunt, oh, god, baby." He let out a strained groan.

"Tastes even better, Stevie," Eddie said with a smirk, diving back into your thighs, pressing the flat of his tongue against your throbbing clit, soaking in the way you squirmed under his mouth.

"I don't think I can fuckin' wait," his voice drowned out between your thighs, "need to be inside'a her." He slurred.

"I think you've earned this, princess," he whispered. "Right, baby?" He hummed contently, attention diverting to Eddie.

Eddie's head was quick to pop up, causing you to whine at the loss of contact. "Fuck yes," he groaned eagerly, not even wasting a second to undo his zipper and toss his clothes aside.

You looked up at him excitedly. "Masks?" Steve's eyebrows rose at that. "You want us to wear our masks while we fuck your holes, honey?" He shuddered, his mind going numb with how perfect you were.

You nodded happily. "Since you've been such a good girl," he hummed, slipping on his mask before he tossed Eddie his.

You could feel Eddie's thick, veiny shaft pressing against your legs, smearing his beads of pre-cum all over your inner thighs.

They were both so addicting—the way they moved in unison and how they had your breath hitching just with their masks on.

You don't know what it was that you loved about those masks, but you loved how they immediately made both your boys more confident and dominant. Especially Eddie, who was eyeing you with such hunger that it had your core throbbing, the head of his dick prodding your entrance.

Steve had your attention back when he slapped his dick against your lips, parting them open before he gave it a few tugs. He kneeled on the bed, towering above you.

He slid his angry tip into your awaiting mouth, not worried about hurting you once he pushed himself harshly with a low grunt coming out of his lips. Your mouth was quick to wrap around it, licking and sucking every inch of him you possibly could fit. “See, you look so much prettier like this, baby, droolin’ all over my cock and knowing your place,” he groaned, eyes carefully watching you behind the mask. 

And you loved every second of it—his husky voice with that goddamn mask as he shoved your face further onto his cock, your nose hitting his pubes as you drooled around him. And Eddie could tell how much sucking Steve’s cock turned you on, feeling the way your thighs dampened more and more. 

“Stevie she’s fuckin’ soaked from sucking your dick,” Eddie mocked with a chuckle as he teasingly slid his shaft against your slick walls. You whimpered for more, but he just looked at you with that goddamn smirk.

They enjoyed this, teasing you until you got all whiney and teary, so cock drunk to the point where all you could let out were incoherent babbles for them to make you cum.

"Isn't this what you were fuckin' begging for, baby, huh?" Eddie pouted mockingly.

"To be fucked dumb by both of your daddies, hmm?" He asked, dragging his cock up and lining it with your entrance. You were quick to nod frantically, mouth muffled by Steve’s thick cock shoved into it. 

You could barely comprehend what was happening when he started to sheath himself inside of your velvety walls, making your pussy accommodate his size quickly. It burned, just a little bit, but your cunt clamped down around him quickly, and a groan lodged in his throat, his face scrunching when he pushed himself further. 

“You look so good like this,” he panted. “All fucked out on our cocks, just begging for more, like a bitch in heat.” Eddie groaned, 

Steve’s hands quickly wrapped around your hair, yanking you hard as he pumped further into your mouth. “Can’t even move her damn mouth,” he spat. “Have to do all the fuckin’ work,” he groaned. You could barely catch your breath the more vicious his thrusts got. 

But you were used to it, welcoming his thick cock as you took what he gave you, trying to hollow your cheeks to please him further. Tears prickled at your eyes, and your face heated from being so breathless. 

“Look how well she’s takin’ both of us… and this tight fuckin’ cunt… molded just for us,” he moaned, watching the way his cock split you apart. His grip on your hips hardened, enough to leave a blotchy bruise, marking you. 

He eyed you with a proud smirk, plunging into you harder while Steve fucked your face with ease. Your whines and groans were uncontrollable, as were Steve and Eddie’s. The room was filled with a mixture of the lewd sounds of your grunts and the harsh slapping of flesh. 

Eddie was feral, plunging his cock further into your velvety walls, not stopping until he was sure you were fully stuffed, and the deeper he went, the deeper you took Steve into your mouth. All three of you were in sync; the rocking motion had everyone in a hazy state, not knowing when any of you were about to fucking lose it. 

“Such a warm fuckin’ mouth, Eddie… and she’s droolin’ all over my cock,” Steve grunted, his grip on your hair tightened, slamming your head with force as he enjoyed the way you gagged around him, his cock hitting the back of your throat.

“She’s drenchin’ my cock too, so good for us,” Eddie chuckled. You rocked your hips back onto him, making Eddie almost lose it. “Fuck- fucking messy little slut.” He growled in a husky voice, pumping his cock in and out of you in a delicious pace.

“God, you both look so hot…” Steve groaned. “Shit, shit, shit… Love watching your cock drive into her, gonna be the fuckin’ death of me, both of you.” 

You could barely focus, delighted sobs muffled by Steve’s stuttering hips driving further into you. “Needy fuckin’ whore,” he shuddered when you choked around him. “Don’t know how much longer I can hold off." You looked up at him all doe-eyed, ready to take all of his cum and swallow it whole.

He almost lost it at that look—so primal and needy, but so fucking innocent. “Mhmm, gonna shoot my load down that pretty little throat.” You whimpered, making Steve’s head fall back in pleasure. 

“Fuuuck, want that princess? Want me to fill your slutty mouth?” You nodded as best as you could, pouting. 

“Shit, pretty girl, I’ll give you all of my cum.” He stroked your cheek, wiping away the tears that left your glossy eyes. 

“You close, baby?” Steve asked, directed toward Eddie, who was lost in your pussy, reveling in your moans. “F-fuck yes,” he panted.

“Can tell she’s fuckin’ close, too… Tight fuckin’ cunt squeezing me, wants to milk me dry, yeah?” He asked with a mocking chuckle. 

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ, pretty girl, shit I’m gonna-” Steve was losing it, grumbling as he furiously fucked your mouth. “N-need your cum, Stevie,” you let out a gurgled sound, Steve’s cock immediately twitching, balls drawing up with the need to release.  

“I’m gonna- oh, fu-fuuck,” he let out a load groan, bucking his hips with a force that had your mind fuzzy, enjoying the feeling of being filled everywhere. Steve was hitting the back of your throat, and you could almost feel Eddie in your tummy. 

His cock throbbed in your throat. “Take it, b-baby, fuuuck, mmpf! Y-yeah… take it all,” he grunted, with ropes of hot cum spurting down your throat with one final thrust, tainting your throat. 

He watched you swallow it all with a filthy smile on your lips. Eddie was stunned watching the two of you, his vision blurring as he was chasing his release now. 

You’re too fucked out, but now with your mouth free, you want to tease Eddie and get him to his breaking point because you know you are close—so close that it aches. And you know he will only let you cum once he does. 

Your attention diverts back to him, with an innocent look, “Mhmm, Eds?” you whined, voice still coarse after getting your throat abused by Steve. 

He looked back at you, pupils blown wide. “What do you need, pretty girl?” He hummed, 

“W-wanna see you,” you hummed with a sweet pout, and he was quick to oblige, taking off the mask swiftly. 

You grind your hips onto his cock, tiny whimpers leaking out of your plump lips, wanting more. 

More, more, more.

“I-I…” you barely let out between your whines, and he stared at you in a hypnotic gaze, each part of him completely allured by you now. 

Your fingers grazed against your tummy. “I-I can feel you here, sir,” you stuttered with that look again. Leaving Eddie stunned as his mind reveled, calling him 'sir' with the most pornographic gaze ever, you truly had him wrapped around your finger. 

He shuddered in a deep breath. “Jesus fu-fucking,” he growled. His pace picked up, head thrown back as he plunged into you. “Fuuuuck, angel, keep sayin’ shit like that, and you’ll make me cum.” Steve watched curiously, blood quick to rush to his cock again when both of his sluts were so fucking filthy. 

“Wanna make you cum, sir,” you sobbed beneath him. You were close, so fucking close. Body shuddering with how badly you needed a release. “P-please need m-more.” Tiny whines left your parted lips; he could feel your cunt gushing on his cock, desperately sucking him in. 

“Shit, pretty girl. Feels so fucking good, doesn’t it? To be fucked dumb like this? To be our little fucktoy?” He was losing it, beads of sweat prickled on his forehead.

“Mhmmm, love being owned by the two of you,” you hummed, head tilting toward Steve with a vulgar look before turning your attention back to your own release. “Please, Eds, n-need to…”  

“You wanna cum, baby?” You nodded frantically. “Wanna cum, while I claim you? While I stuff you full of my cum, have it leakin’ down those pretty thighs?” He hissed. 

“P-please!” you cried out, “want you to come inside’a me.” You cried out, your pussy convulsing more and more around him. 

“C’mon sweet girl,” he hummed. He pistoned into you, watching his cock split you open once more. “Cum for me,” he hissed. 

That was all the confirmation you needed as you chased your release, primal groans filling the air as your walls fluttered around him, orgasm washing you away as you were sure you saw stars for a moment.

“F-fuuuckk, g-gonna fill you so fuckin’ deep,” he growled against your ear, fully losing it with one vicious thrust, feeling the way your cunt was squeezing him as thick ropes of his warm cum spurted inside of you, painting your walls white.

Both of your visions blurred with how hard you came, and Eddie could feel his cum leaking out of your stuffed pussy, he groaned at the feeling. 

Once his cock softened and slipped out of you, he crashed next to you, planting a quick kiss on your bare shoulder. 

Steve was quick to jump back into the bed, making his way down to your thighs, and your head cocked in curiosity, watching the way he spread your legs. 

His cock twitched at your fucked out expression. Your hair was messily discarded, your mouth still stained with Steve’s cum, and your tear-strained cheeks made him hard again.  

His head drooped down to your glistening pussy, stuffed full of Eddie’s load that was leaking down your thighs. His fingers spread apart your pussy lips, admiring how full you were. “W-what are you doing?” You asked with a sweet hum. 

“I wanna taste both of you.” Steve hissed with a devilish smirk, diving into your sore cunt as his tongue flattened on your clit, savoring the taste of the two of you.

[caffedrine]

Character vs. Event – The Beast wants to Lure the Rabbit Silvio Ricci vs Azel Radwan - Summary

If you trust me to know what I'm doing, then we have both made a huge mistake. I cannot guarantee accuracy for this summary, or even grammatical correctness.

Please support Cybird and pick up this event when it makes it to the English Server

Also - Silvio is super hot in this one. Don't get distracted by the sexy new princes, Silvio brings it.

This is set without Silvio or Azel being romanced.

What if Emma had gone on to purchase books in Benitoite on Akatsuki’s behalf?

After completing Akatsuki’s errand, Emma briefly stopped by the main port before heading back to the inn. The port seemed unusually busy, and Emma overhears some of the crowd talk about the living god, also mentioning that Silvio had personally come to welcome him.

Emma is also curious by the talk of the living god, and wonders if this means Silvio is just ahead.

She had briefly met Silvio a short while ago when she had played the role of ‘Belle’ in Rhodolite. Silvio, First Prince of Benitoite, had tormented her many times, and possibly because he was suspicious of her secret role, had made her his caretaker. Thankfully Rio had protected her, but unfortunately, he was not around to shield her now.

It would have been smart for Emma to turn away and go to the inn, but she was curious about how her former acquaintance was doing. Curiosity drew her into the crowd, and with some luck, she was in a prime position to see Silvio.

Benitoite knights had formed an empty zone, in which Silvio stood looking at a large ship bearing the emblem of Tanzanite. Following his gaze, Emma saw a single figure move down the ship’s gangway.

At first glance, he was an otherworldly man with features she has never seen before. His hair was silver, and his eyes were a mysterious color that she couldn’t quite place but was striking even from a distance.

Around her, the crowd confirms that this new person is the living god, and Emma recalls hearing that there was a real god in human form in Tanzanite. From the looks of him, she could believe it.

As he came closer to them, Emma could see that the Living God’s expression was full of compassion and love that surrounded everyone, starkly contrasted to Silvio’s tyrannical expression.

(something wicked this way comes)

With a politeness that took Emma by surprise, Silvio welcomed Azel, the Living God, to Benitoite. Azel kindly thanked Silvio for his gracious hospitality and prayed that all the people of Benitoite would be blessed.

Emma is surprised, she didn’t think Silvio was capable of being so polite and gracious. At least, he had never appeared that way in front of the Princes of Rhodolite. The Living God must be something if he could draw this personality out of Silvio.  It gives her goosebumps.

Just as Azel begins to accompany Silvio to a nearby carriage, a man behind Emma shouts that Azel is a fraud and has bankrupted him. He demands his money back and starts lashing out, pushing hard at the crowd and Emma.

Benitoite knights rush over to the man, and the combined commotion of the rampaging man, and the knights trying to restrain him send Emma landing on the ground hard. Just as she realizes that she’s technically in the open space, Silvio recognizes her.

Silvio rushes towards her, demanding to know what the hell she’s doing here. He swears at her, and Emma is almost relieved to see the normal Silvio. Emma begins to apologize, assuming he’s upset because of how close she is, but Silvio shushes her, examining her leg, which she only begins to notice is badly scraped up and bleeding through her skirt.

Before Emma can react, Silvio bends down and scoops her up into his arms. Emma demands to know what he’s doing, but Silvio shushes her, threatening to toss her into the sea if she doesn’t calm down. Emma ignores the threat and tells him that she’s not so injured that she can't walk. She points out that he’ll attract undue rumors if they see him right now.

Emma flails more, but Silvio shrugs off her movements. He tells her that he isn’t going to follow any orders from her, and besides, no one cares about them right now. Emma stops and looks at the crowd, and sees that indeed, everyone is focused on Azel.

Azel is telling the crowd that if anyone has a grievance to air with him, to please follow the formal procedures to request a meeting. He promises that as long as time permits, he will listen to all the people of Benitoite. But he would hate for his beloved people to be injured further by this outburst, and to be patient with him.

Like a miracle, the crowd quieted down like the receding of the tide. Even Emma feels like her heart quiet down, and she wonders if this is a miracle from god. Silvio tells Emma that they’ll take this opportunity to leave quickly. Emma asks where he’s taking her, and Silvio responds that he’s sure as hell not going to stand here holding her forever, so they’ll just go back to the castle.

Emma tells Silvio to think things through and put her down. Silvio tells her to stop ruining his mood and takes a threatening step towards the sea. Emma doesn’t say anything, and Silvio looks satisfied.

In the carriage, Emma tells Silvio that she’s grateful for his kindness, but she absolutely hates this. Silvio tells her that she only has herself to blame, making him get violent in front of a state guest. Azel tells Silvio that he absolutely doesn’t mind, in fact, this sounds like a profitable story.

Once he pushed her into the carriage, Silvio had one of his servants retrieve a first aid kit and hand it to him. When she saw Silvio’s wicked grin, Emma immediately understood what was going to happen next and grabbed the hem of her skirt to hold it down. Just as she expected, Silvio forcefully tried to pull up her skirt.

All in front of the Living God, sitting across from them.

The fight between Emma and Silvio was so childish, she wanted to cry. She tell Silvio that she can take care of this herself, but Silvio insists that he’s a better medic than she is, and watching a amateur fumble about will only irritate him.

Emma tells him that’s fine, she’ll just get off his carriage, go home, and take care of it herself. Silvio rejects this idea.

Emma demands to know why, and Silvio snaps back that she’s very annoying, and if she resists any further, he’ll tear off her skirt. Emma wails that Silvio is truly the worst. She wonders if this is revenge for their time together in Rhodolite where she had been avoiding being his hostess.

Finally Azel speaks up, telling them to give it up. Silvio appreciates the backup, but Emma points out that he might have been talking to Silvio.

Azel notes that he is always troubled by the worries of stupid people. But, for her, he will lend a special hand.

Emma was surprised at the words, but Azel’s serene, benevolent expression never wavered. In the shaking carriage, Azel stands and moves to sit on Emma’s other side, trapping her between him and Silvio.

Silvio complains that with all three of them on the same seat, the carriage’s balance will be off. Azel tells Silvio in that case to go ahead and move to the empty bench.

Smiling sweetly at Emma, Azel asks her name, and introduces himself as Silvio’s personal fortuneteller, to Silvio’s displeasure. He asks since when were they that close, and Azel asks if Silvio is cheating on him with other fortunetellers. He laments that Silvio is so cruel even though Azel tries so hard for him.

Silvio protests, for one, he doesn’t even believe in fortunetelling. Azel smiles and exclaims that he is the only fortuneteller in the world that Silvio trusts. Silvio sighs in defeat.

Taking advantage of their distraction, Azel jerks the hem of Emma’s skirt up, exposing her wound.

Mockingly pitying her, Azel takes the medicine from Silvio, and begins to treat Emma as a bad feeling wells up in her. Unfortunately, she is trapped between Silvio and Azel and has no choice but to accept having her wound treated.

Azel treats her wound without the slightest show of compassion or mercy. It hurts badly enough that Emma yowls in pain, and clings to Silvio, who recoils and demands that she stop touching him. Through her tears, Emma apologizes, but cannot bring herself to let go of Silvio.

Azel is as efficient as a battle nurse and bandages her wound with gauze. By the time he finishes, the pain recedes. In a voice very different than the serenely benevolent one he’s used up to now, Azel mocks her for crying over being treated.

Then, with a very tender and compassionate gesture, Azel wipes the tears away from Emma’s eyes, and she wonders if the painful treatment was a dream. Emma thanks Azel, and he assures her that as Silvio’s precious friend, she is his sucker- wait, he meant friend, too.

Silvio breaks the moment by demanding Emma get off of him. As Emma scoots away, Silvio flings himself to the corner of the bench, but not before she notices how red his face is. When she brings it up, Silvio threatens to throw her out of the carriage, and Emma wonders if he’s embarrassed.

No, he’s a tyrant, it must be something else.

Azel takes this moment to bring up the cost of the treatment. He leans close to her ear and whispers a number so large that Emma feels herself grow faint. A light seems to shine from behind Azel as he explains that god has just used his own hands to treat her, so if anything, this is a discount.

Emma asks Silvio to save her, but he replies that this is her own fault for refusing to let him treat her. He goes on to explain that as gods go, Azel is pretty evil.

Emma realizes that Azel just scammed her.

Azel assures Emma that he’ll create a loan document so that she can pay her debt back in installments. Emma asks if there's anything other than money that can pay him back, and Azel considers this before agreeing. He’ll forgive the debt if Emma agrees to become his exclusive maid (slave) during his stay. Emma is confused, he said the word ‘maid’ but she’s pretty sure he meant ‘slave’.

Silvio cuts in, he has already hired the most skilled maid in Benitoite to serve Azel. There’s no need for Azel to put up with Emma’s amateurish attempts.

Azel disagrees, he’s grown fond of Emma. She’s not intimidated by princes or gods, so he’s certain he’ll feel very comfortable with her. Then again, if Silvio has that strong of an opinion, he doesn’t mind Silvio paying Emma’s debt on her behalf.

However, he knows Silvio is the type of person who doesn’t waste money. If Silvio is going to help this woman personally, does it mean that he’s in love with her?

Silvio immediately denies this, and Azel shrugs. It’s too bad, it sounds like Emma is going to be his new maid (slave) after all.

Emma agrees to serve Azel and have him waive the costs to treat her. Mentally she apologizes to Akatsuki, it looks like it will be a while before she is able to return to Rhodolite.

At the Benitoite Castle, Azel thanks Silvio for his hospitality, he always loves the food served to him. Silvio assures him that serving him is absolutely no trouble, and to eat as much as he likes.

Emma, now wearing a maid uniform, is their waiter and has been serving them since they first set foot in the castle. Thanks to her time as Belle, she was actually doing quite well. However, she is concerned that there are no other servants besides her, as everyone else has been dismissed. She is kept very busy, working by herself.

Azel and Silvio begin to talk seriously. Azel talks about an easy mark - er, merchant, who is still active. Silvio agrees, they’re using Azel’s name to sell expensive products. Unfortunately, while immoral, this isn’t illegal in Benitoite, and they need to get them on something else. He asks if Azel needs his help, but Azel refuses. Instead, he would like Silvio to do that favor he asked for.

Emma more or less understands the problem. She wonders if the whole point of Azel’s trip is to stop the sale of fake holy artifacts and imagines that there will be a lot of trouble ahead. She idly refills Silvio’s rose wine as Azel turns to her and explains that she’ll be helping him.  Emma starts and nearly empties the wine pitcher on Silvio. She asks if she misheard, but nope, Azel is going to use her for his job tomorrow.

Silvio immediately grabs her hand and cuts in. He was actually planning on having Emma help him tomorrow. Besides, he saw her first, Azel should back down.

Azel asks how much he should sell Emma to Silvio for. He reminds them that he’s an evil god. Silvio clicks his tongue, and Azel turns to Emma. He doesn’t mind if Emma chooses between them.

Silvo End

Emma is paralyzed by the sudden choice. She decides that in the end, she has to pay back her debt to Azel, so she slowly turns to him.

Behind her, Silvio clicks his tongue and tells Azel he understands, all he has to do is buy her. Azel smiles beautifully, remarking that it’s about time that Silvio’s made up his mind, no, Lord Gold*, that is. Silvio grumbles for Azel to stop calling him that.

Magnanimously, Azel agrees to stop, after all, he is very loyal to Silvio. He then praises Silvio for saving his dear friend. And to not ruin the moment, Azel will give him the bill later. This is not included in the compensation they’ve already arranged. Silvio grumbles about how stubborn Azel is.

Silvio then smiles arrogantly at Emma, and she wishes that she had gone with Azel instead. She has moved from the frying pan into the fire.

Silvio tells Emma that just as Azel once said, he doesn’t waste his money. He intends for her to work off her debt completely, and he plans on enjoying this.

The next morning, Emma is summoned to Silvio’s bedroom, and with a wicked grin he explains that today she is his personal maid. He warns her not to run her mouth with him. Emma would love to complain, but since Silvio holds a sizeable debt over her head, she cannot oppose him. Very politely, Emma agrees and tells Silvio to go ahead and give her any orders he wants. She goes full maid mode and calls him ‘master’.

This wipes the smirk off of Silvio’s face and he complains about it being weird when she’s like this. Emma reminds him that he has just told her to be his maid, so what does he want her to do? And why does he look so frustrated when she’s obedient?

Silvio has an errand for Emma to run. He hands her a list of book titles. Azel has requested these particular books from Silvio, but they’re rare enough that no single bookstore has everything. Silvio needs someone to go to the various bookstores in Benitoite and cobble the list together.

Emma is somewhat surprised; this is pretty much her normal job. She was worried that Silvio would give her a horrible onerous task, but this lines up with her abilities perfectly. She assures Silvio that she will be back by nightfall, accepting the list. She will pay off the debt with time to spare.

So why is Silvio accompanying her on this errand? When she asks, Silvio tells her that it’s none of her business. Emma laughs and teases him, maybe he’s coming with her because he cant bear to part with her so quickly?

Silvio reaches out and grabs her head, crushing it in a painful grip. He tells her to focus less on him and more on her task.

Emma asks if this means that Silvio doesn’t want to leave her alone. Silvio is not amused by this and begins to shake her head, blurring her vision. She complains that her eyes are shaking, and Silvio warns her to stop saying weird things.

Fine, fine, Emma will let it be. She’ll pretend there’s nothing weird or unusual about Silvio following her on her errand. That he assigned her.

The first bookstore she stops by was one she had purchased books from Akatsuki the previous day. The bookstore owner recognizes her, and asks if the rumor is true, is she now dating Silvio? To Emma’s horror, the owner explains that the rumors were that when the Living God arrived in Benitoite, Silvio and Emma had an intimate moment. Publicly. And now, the rumors say that Silvio has both the Living God and his mistress as guests at the Benitoite Palace.

Anyway, here is the book Emma requested. Please, give the bookstore owner’s regards to Prince Silvio.

Immediately upon exiting the bookstore, Emma tells Silvio that they need to break up.

Silvio looks stunned as he accepts the book from Emma. He recovers enough to remind Emma that they can’t break up, they’re not dating in the first place.

Yeah, well, there are rumors going around. Rumors . . . from Silvio’s very nonchalant reaction that he already knew about.

Yep, according to public opinion, Emma is Silvio’s woman. At least in Benitoite.

Okay, then they should break up publicly.

Silvio refuses to take orders from his newest maid. Instead, they should go to the next store.

As they walk, Emma is aghast at how fast these rumors are spreading. Oh, she just knew something bad would come from Silvio picking her up at the port. And now, she has become hyper-aware of all the people they pass by, feeling their gazes slide over her. Oh, what would happen if the rumors of her being Silvio’s woman spread past the Benitoite capital?

As if reading her mind, Silvio wonders what would happen if that dog hears the rumors too. He slips an arm around Emma’s waist and bends down to whisper in Emma’s ear. It occurs to her that, from the right angle, this looks like a intimate moment.

Silvio is doing this on purpose.

The longer they stay together, the faster the rumors will spread. Now Emma has just one last resort. She points and shouts that Azel is right there across the street.

This breaks Silvio’s attention, Azel should be in a different part of the city all together, dealing with . . . And Emma is gone, sprinting off down an alley. She thinks she heard Silvio scramble after her, but she continues full speed ahead, and practically dives into the first store around a corner. Gasping for breath, she waits, but it seems like she has shaken off Silvio.

After a moment, Emma decides to look around the store. It’s a general store, full of cute accessories that make her think of Benitoite. Something on the shelf catches her attention.

After Emma makes her purchase, she leaves the store, confident in her escape skills and planning on finishing her errand. She gets as far as the main street before a voice calls out to her. Before she can even look, she is dragged into a different alley and pushed roughly against the wall.

It’s Silvio.

And he is pissed.

Maybe Emma would have been better off if just a regular kidnapper had found her instead.

Silvio hopes that Emma is prepared to face the consequences of her actions. Emma is, but she doesn’t regret trying to stop the spread of the rumors. If it gets out that she is Silvio’s mistress, her marriage prospects will plummet.

Silvio is aghast, is that what she cares about? Hasn’t it got through her head why he’s spent his entire day with her yet?

Realizing what he just said, Silvio shuts his mouth, then swears, he didn’t mean that last bit to slip.

In case Emma hasn’t realized it, Silvio is a prince. And, if that’s not enough, he’s rich. Like, really rich. The rumors have already spread, and right now, she’s the most kidnappable person on the continent.

Oh. Well, maybe if Silvio had said that from the start, Emma would have been more cooperative. But, from his expression right now, Silvio looks embarrassed. It’s not something she is used to from this arrogant tyrant.

Emma apologizes, she didn’t realize he was worried about her. Silvio quickly denies this, he was never worried. He just would be upset if something happened. Totally different emotion.

Silvio is still a tyrant, which Emma hates, but still . . . Emma thanks him.

She pulls her recent purchase out of her pocket – a trinket with a ship motif. The little ship looks like it’s about to have a grand adventure, and looking at it, all she can think of is Silvio’s face.

Emma explains that she realized that back when she got injured Silvio hadn’t hesitated before running to tend to her. In the end, he had even paid Azel for treating her. But, in retrospect, she had never thanked him, so she wanted to give him this as a token of her thanks. Also, she might have been holding on to it to soothe Silvio’s ire when he eventually caught up to her after she escaped him.

But it wasn’t a lie that she wanted to thank him.

Silvio stares at the tiny ship resting in the palm of his hand, frozen. His ocean-blue eyes are wide and he seems very surprised. As the silence continues, Emma grows embarrassed. Maybe he dislikes the trinket – it’s nothing to a millionaire like Silvio. She tells Silvio that if he doesn’t like it, she’ll just take it back.

Silvio immediately snatches the trinket away, holding it above her head. He never said that he didn’t want it. He smiles as Emma grasps at air.

It is a very silly trinket, but Silvio will accept it as his due. Emma thinks he looks surprisingly happy, and her heart skips a beat at a smile she never saw back in Rhodolite.

No, that’s stupid. What’s the point of getting excited about seeing one nice smile on a tyrant’s face? She’s being far too lenient with him.

After this little adventure, Silvio actually listened to Emma’s request, and although he still followed her, he managed to do so without being seen. She was able to finish purchasing the last of the books on the list by the time the sun began setting over the sea.

Emma returns with Silvio to the castle, then cheerfully announces that her job is over. Since she’s paid off her debt, she’ll go ahead and return to the inn she’s staying at.

Emma is somewhat sad; this is probably the last time she will ever interact with Silvio. As a bookstore clerk, she cannot easily approach him, as they practically live in different worlds. She wishes him well, and turns to leave.

Silvio abruptly grabs her, wrapping his arms around her from behind.

Did Emma seriously think she could just leave like that?

Silvio Epilogue

Emma met Silvio when the King of Rhodolite died and she had been nominated as Belle to choose his replacement. Silvio had come up with many tricks to try to get her to reveal her identity, leading them to but heads more often than not. If she had to describe their relationship, Emma would say that it was not a good one.

So how exactly did she end up like this?

His arms are wrapped around her like a backward hug, and he’s asking why she thinks she can just leave like that. Emma points out that she completed his errand, and her job is over.

Silvio half-laughs, does Emma really think that all she needed to do was run a single errand to pay him back? As his exclusive maid, she hasn’t even served him dinner yet.

Silvio has a lot of maids in the castle, right? Maid who would be thrilled to serve him any meal he would like, right? Why does he want Emma? Silvio asks if this is how Emma pays back her debts, by mouthing off to the people to whom she owes money.

Silvio doesn’t need Emma to serve him dinner. Emma figures that this is just revenge for everything that happened between them in Rhodolite.

Emma thought she would be free after she served him dinner, but then Silvio’s official duties as the Prince of Benitoite began. He had her sorting documents, organizing files, and assisting with enough paperwork to make her dizzy.

By the time most of the paperwork had been conquered, Azel had returned to the castle. While Silvio listened to Azel’s report, Emma served tea, sweets, and a shocking amount of gold bullion to Azel. Honestly, there was enough gold to last a person an entire lifetime.

Silvio is pleased with Azel’s report, the business was destroyed and was untraceable back to Silvio. Azel is pleased that Silvio is pleased. If Silvio has any other problems, merely contact him and Azel will come running. And, of course, that offer is extended to Silvio’s woman.

Azel is disappointed that neither Silvio nor Emma want a divination.

After the meeting, Emma accompanies Silvio back to his room, where she can hear the sound of the ocean running over the sand. He pours a drink for both of them and tells Emma to drink up. Emma asks if he normally treats his maids to alcohol, and Silvio tells her that she is fired as a maid. She’s far too cocky for the profession.

Emma has no problem with this, it was a lot of hard work.

Silvio urges Emma to drink up, he doesn’t feel like drinking alone today.

The liquor is a light sea-blue and makes her think of Silvio. Since Silvio is personally pouring her drink, she decides to accept and try it.

Silvio explains that it’s a traditional Benitoite liquor, very rare, so Emma might not get a chance to try it again. Tasting it, Emma remarks that it makes her think of the sea, a fitting beverage for Benitoite. It was very tasty and easy to drink, so Emma would have to be careful.

Silvio knocks back a shot of the liquor and pours himself another glass. Emma wonders if she should be worried.

Silvio tells Emma that she should stay at the castle tonight. Emma isn’t certain that it’s allowed, with her being a commoner and all, but Silvio insists that she is his guest. Silvio corrects her, she’s not a guest, after all, he did buy her. Emma asks what the difference is between a guest and someone in debt to him, and Silvio muses it depends on his mood at the moment.

How strange. All while they spent time together in Rhodolite, Silvio had been unpleasant and tyrannical. But right now, it could be said that they were getting along. Now that she isn’t terrified of him discovering her true role, she can see different sides of him. Maybe this playful kindness had been there back when they first met, and Emma had been too wary to notice it. For one, she never would have guessed that he would immediately come to her aid if she was injured.

These thoughts stir confusing feelings inside her, so Emma washes it down with another drink.

When Emma laughs softly and admits to Silvio that she never would have imagined that she would be in his room this late drinking with him. Maybe she had been right when they started the book-buying errand that morning, and Silvio liked being around her. Silvio disagrees and tells her not to get so cocky.

With a shrug, Emma decides that she’s been here long enough, it’s time for her to return to her room at the inn.

But as soon as she sets her empty glass on the table, Silvio grabs her wrist.

Silvio reminds her that they already talked about this, he doesn’t want to see her get kidnapped. Emma asks if that’s the only reason he’s acting like this.

Silvio’s brows furrow, and there’s an awkward silence between them.

Huh, Emma would have thought that Silvio would swear at her and deny it or something. She wonders what Silvio is thinking about during this long silence and decides to back down. She assures Silvio that she does not doubt that he only wants her to stay out of concern for her safety. But Silvio’s grim expression doesn’t go away.

Trying to lighten the mood, Emma reaches out to poke Silvio where his brows are furrowed, but he suddenly leaps backward as if she burned him. From across the room, Silvio shouts at her to not touch him without permission.

Emma blinks owlishly at him, then recalls that time when Azel was treating her wound in the carriage how he had panicked when she clung to him. She asks if Silvio cant bear to be touched, but he denies this, looking everywhere other than her eyes.

This is a weakness.

Emma can’t help but grin wickedly. Silvio grows more upset and yells that she is getting carried away without being aware of her place. Emma shrugs, she’s probably drunk so what she says and does doesn’t count.

Silvio’s frown curls into a grin.

It doesn’t count?

Uh-oh.

With a wicked expression, Silvio stalks towards her, placing his glass on the table. Feeling wary, Emma steps backward, only to topple down on top of his bed.

Silvio pushes her down, hovering over her and caging her with his arms and legs. His face is close enough for the tips of their noses to touch, and Emma and Silvio breathe the same air. When Emma tries to move away, Silvio grabs her hand tightly. Emma can’t see anything other than Silvio, cant hear anything other than their heartbeats. Their fingers are tangled together, both of their bodies hot enough for sweat to bead along Emma’s brow.

Silvio laughs, Emma really is drunk.

Emma would like to respond to it, but every time Silvio exhales, his breath scatters her thoughts.

Silvio sighs, Emma can’t leave now, not with that expression. He roughs up her hair, tangling it with his fingers. Emma asks what he means, and Silvio tells her to stop talking, or else he’ll take a page out of Azel’s book and increase her debt to him.

Once he has tangled Emma’s hair to the point that it looks more like a bird’s nest than a hairstyle, Silvio gets off of Emma, letting her up. Emma sits up and begins righting her hair, and Silvio starts helping.

Emma tells Silvio she really should leave now.

At the very least, she can’t stay here. Her heart is doing backflips, and she cannot describe the feelings washing through her. Standing up, Emma reaches Silvio’s bedroom door, but he calls out to her, stopping her.

Silvio tells Emma that the next time she comes to Benitoite, she really should stop by the castle and say ‘hello’. Besides, he owns her loan, she can always come by and work it off.

What a tyrant.

Emma agrees that she doesn’t want to be in debt to him until she dies, so she will stop by the castle. Unless she forgets.

Silvio grumbles for her not to forget him.

Well, the debt, at least.

Silvio pours himself another drink, and Emma begins to leave for real, only for something to catch her eye. That trinket she had bought for Silvio on a whim sparkles on his desk in a prominent position.

She has no idea what her feelings for Silvio are.

Azel End

The day starts with Emma chasing after the Living God. She calls out for him to please slow down, but Azel refuses to stop his powerwalk.

Even though Azel is not running, his legs are long enough that his stride propels him farther than Emma. Even though they had left at the same time, Emma has to rush after him. Very kindly, Azel sympathizes with having stubby legs and warns Emma that if she can’t keep up with him, he’ll just have to leave her behind.

Eventually, Azel makes his way through a back alley, but there is no sign of anyone else there. Just ahead of her, Azel pulls to a stop, and Emma can make out two men guarding a door. Azel apologizes for intruding, and as both the guards start at the sight of the Living God, he opens the door and walks in.

Catching up, Emma breathlessly repeats Azel’s platitude and runs in after him.

There are many people inside, and they are all reacting in surprise to Azel’s sudden entrance. Some are shouting with joy, and others are crying as if they are experiencing a divine visitation. A very different reaction than the one Azel received at the port. Emma feels like she is watching drowning men clutch at straws.

Azel didn’t seem to even notice the crowd. Instead, without pause, he marches towards the stage.

Emma sees a large vase in the middle. She imagines that this is a fake holy item being auctioned under Azel’s name.

Standing on the stage, Azel calls for the crowd to quiet down. He is very sad, he has heard that there is the sale of holy items, and he sees that the rumors are true. Do they not understand that God’s protection isn’t bought with money?

Did Azel hit his head while outside of Emma’s eyesight? She stares at him in disbelief as he continues. Azel assures the people that God doesn’t need money, otherwise those without money would not receive any protection. God loves all and protects all despite their wealth or status.

Azel’s face and voice is full of compassion and love, if this was the first time Emma interacted with him, she would even believe him. Surprisingly, even after interacting with him, Emma can feel Azel’s voice penetrate her heart and is filled with a holy sensation. Like her, everyone around seems to be holding their breath, waiting for Azel’s next words.

Well, not everyone. The merchants selling the fake divine artifacts try to flee. This snaps the crowd out of their trance and as one they turn against the merchants and begin to form a mob, demanding their money back.

The merchants run out the back way, and the crowd rushes after them, leaving behind an empty auction area of only Emma and Azel. She asks if Azel plans on chasing after the merchants as well, but Azel refuses. He’s not stupid enough to leave behind all this money.

(Azel isn't upset that people are scamming others, he's upset that he's not getting a cut)

Emma asks what meant a few minutes earlier when he was saying that God doesn’t need money.

Well, that was then, and this is now.

Azel beckons Emma forward, her job starts now. It’s easy enough, even an idiot like her can do it. Leaping down from the stage, Azel starts pushing Emma ahead of him into a side door she missed earlier. Emma recognizes one of the merchants in the room and asks how Azel knew that he was there. Azel reminds her that he is a God and tells his slave maid to look sharp. Emma snaps back to her senses and locks the door behind them.

Emma was glared at by the merchant, but Azel moves to stand between them, blocking their line of sight. Azel greets the scammer and drapes a companionable arm around his shoulders and forces him to sit at a nearby table. He and Azel should have a fun chat together.

The scamming merchant’s face is pale.

Azel knows this person. He knows his name, his home address, his workplace, where his family lives, and so on. It seems this merchant has several gambling debts and is having trouble making ends meet. But none of this is Azel’s concern, right? He only care that he was using his name in selling these goods. The compensation should be about . . .

Emma cant hear what Azel says next, but the merchant’s face tightens like he bit into something sour. Emma feels sympathetic with the merchant, but she can only pity him so much, as he was obviously running a terrible business.

Azel is continuing, loud enough for Emma to overhear. Since the merchant has extorted a lot of money out of people using these false holy relics, and he had a recent run of luck at the gambling hall, this is an easy price to pay.

The merchant asks why Azel would ask for that much, and Azel replies that he is the Living God. And, with his divine foresight, he has prepared a loan document for the merchant. He’s a kind god, so he’ll only punish him monetarily. He smiles at the man, as sweet as if a halo was over his head.

Suddenly the merchant hurls himself off the chair, kicking it away and barreling towards Emma, who is directly in front of the door. Azel calls out to Emma that this is her time to shine.

What? Whaaat? This is impossible!

But, if Emma lets this merchant get away, she will never be released from her debt. Thinkign quickly, she grabs a nearby broom and braces herself to whack him.

And then she sees the knife in the merchant’s hand.

Oh. She’s probably going to die.

Noooo! She can’t give up now! Not after all those self-defense classes they made her take while she was Belle! Emma kills the fear in her heart, raising the broom, ready for a broom to knife fight with the merchant.

Suddenly a chair flies from behind the merchant, hitting him hard enough to knock him to the ground. Azel steps on the merchant’s head, grinding his face into the floor, asking if he’s an idiot as well as an incompetent.

Emma wonders if that last bit was directed towards her and not the merchant. At least, Azel is looking at the merchant instead of her.

The benevolent façade is gone, and the change is so complete Azel looks almost like a completely different person.

Azel asks if the merchant thought that he truly could run away from Azel. Does he think that God is that compassionate? That is a ridiculous thought, no God could be that convenient to humanity. The merchant has just made Azel his enemy, he should know the weight of that decision.

Azel is disgusted that scum like this merchant is using God’s name to exploit others. He’s now changed his mind, the loan document is not enough for the merchant to pay for his sins. Adding the crime of pointing a knife at what belongs to Azel, all the merchant’s wordly possessions will be confiscated to pay for the disrespect.

Azel then begins to dig through the merchant’s pockets, eventually pulling out a rusty key and tossing it to Emma. Azel glares at the merchant lying on the ground one last time before standing up, using the merchant as a stepstool.

They find the safe, full of an eye-watering amount of money. Emma thought Azel would keep all of the wealth for himself, but instead he instructs her to call for the knights; they’re going to return the money to the victims of this merchant’s fraud.

That said, Emma did notice Azel taking some for himself.

This was all legal, as Emma would eventually find out. The document Azel made the merchant sign proclaimed that he transferred all his wealth to Azel. Everyone, including the responding knights, bowed down in gratitude to Azel.

Everyone except Emma.

When they are finally alone in the carriage, Emma asks Azel, by chance, if he’s actually really evil. Azel laughs and admits that he was wondering what she would say. Then his smile disappears, and he warns Emma not to say anything else. She has a flash of Azel stomping on the merchant’s head and she closes her eyes, cringing as if she expects Azel to get violent.

After nothing happens, Emma opens her eyes, only to see Azel looking at her with a shocked expression. It's as if her reaction was worse than an insult.

Azel tells Emma that she should learn how to run away. Think of this as a divine prophecy from god, she is going to die if she continues to stick her nose into unnecessary things. Emma asks him not to say such ominous things, and Azel tells her he would love to, but anything else would go over her stupid head.

Azel asks what she was thinking back in the room, he didn’t bring her with him to fight. Emma explains that she was thinking about her debt. Azel is exasperated, he is certain he told her that he wanted her as a distraction. Ugh, maybe it’s on him, and he said it wrong. Next time, he’ll have to dumb his instructions down for her. A lot.

Emma apologizes for causing him to worry, but Azel assures her that he was never worried about her. Instead, he was worried about Silvio, what would happen if he inadvertently offended his beloved prince by getting his favorite killed.

Azel sighs and sulkily kicks Emma’s seat. He’s going to have to add the cost of saving her to the loan document. Emma is aghast, didn’t he just receive a lot of money?

Oh Emma, no matter how much money you have, you never have enough.

Yep, Azel is definitely an evil god.

How can she say such things? And to think she’s special, she has been personally chosen by god to serve him. If anything, she should be bowing down in gratitude.

On another note, Emma’s debt is too high now to just be Azel’s maid for the day. Congratulations, she’s now his newest slave.

Emma refuses.

Azel asks if Emma plans on selling her organs then.

Emma begs god to have mercy on her. Azel smiles benevolently, God has no mercy for humans. Congratulating Emma on her newly extended loan, Azel stands and traps her between him and the carriage seat.

It occurs to Emma that it would be better if she jumped out the window of the carriage.

Gently placing his fingers against her cheek, Azel tells Emma that he intends to have her repay the loan with her body.

Azel Epilogue

Emma covers herself and glares up at Azel. He asks how conceited can she be, but Emma just reminds him that he said to pay  him back using her body.

He did. And he intends to use all of her.

There is a lot of manual labor that needs to be done, after all.

What did she think he meant? Azel laughs, he’ll just add another bit to her debt for this insult.

It wasn’t until the end of the day that Emma truly understood ‘use all of her’. She was so tired, all she wanted to do was fall face-first into bed and sleep. Instead, she limites herself to sitting down and resting her face on a nearby table.

Azel had spent the entire day performing divinations for the people of Benitoite. Since he was a god, and a foreign god at that, people outside of Tanaznite rarely had an opportunity to receive his divine guidance, making the day very busy.

Honestly, Azel would rather not do this, but he wants to keep on Silvio’s good side. As the richest man in the world, Silvio is not only Azel’s number one benefactor, he is also Azel’s friend. And, to maintain that relationship, Azel will visit and bestow God’s blessing on the citizens of Benitoite.

Unfortunately, he can only run a divination for one person at a time, he needs someone to keep everyone waiting organized. Emma will be paying back her debt by lining up supplicants, guiding them to Azel, handling complaints, and more.

All the chores that need to be done outside of divination will be handled by Emma.

Emma asks if he really intends for her to handle this by herself, and Azel does. After all, she is his only slave here in Benitoite. Of course, if she wants him to bring on another worker, they can pull out the loan document and figure out how much debt to add.

Fine. Emma will do her best, by herself.

Not only did Emma have to cater to the needs of the supplicants, but she was also in charge of Azel’s personal requests, such as bringing him food and drinks.

She can’t help but wonder about all the people waiting (impatiently) in line for hours for a chance to consult with the evil god. Maybe Azel’s divinations were really worth all the trouble.

Emma is not present for Azel’s divinations and has no idea what happens once she leads people to him. All she is aware of is how anxious the people waiting in line are, and how full of hope they are when they leave him.

At the end of the day, with her head face down on the table, Emma wonders what a divination is like.

Suddenly a breath blows into her ear, sending a shock through her. She looks up to see Azel’s face right there.

He thanks her for all of her hard work and dismisses her for the day. Emma asks after him, will he also return to his guest room?

Azel likes this room, it has a perfect view of the sunset. She watches as he leans against the window, staring out across the sea. Intrigued by the scenery God is watching, Emma joins him. She remarks that the sunset is beautiful, this room has a clear view of the horizon. Azel asks if she heard him dismiss her, but Emma insists that she likes watching the sunset.

Well, that’s fine. It’s not unpleasant watching the sunset with her.

That’s interesting, Emma thought Azel disliked her. Azel disagrees though he doesn’t like the fact that she is terrible at regulating her emotions. But think, why would he have someone he hates spend the entire day serving him? He’s not the local masochist to put up with that.

That said, Emma is staying here late. Does she want Azel to pay for her lodgings at the castle too?

Emma cuts in, she’s staying because she has a question for him. She noticed that Azel didn’t take any money for his divinations, even though he keeps on taking as much as he can from her.

Azel reminds Emma what he said earlier, God’s protection is equal. Both rich and poor have the right to seek salvation.

Well, that is the official reason, but the truth is that Azel uses divination to gather useful information. For example, he found out that Emma was the latest Belle of Rhodolite. Depending on the time and place, he could use that to extort money from her.

When Azel tells people’s fortune, people like to talk about useless things with him. And, despite his background, he can gather a lot of useful tidbits.

Azel then asks if Emma would like him to divine her fortune. He urges her to accept, for all they know, this might be the last time divine inspiration strikes him, and he might never be able to tell a fortune again.

Emma can’t believe that Azel is making this offer out of the kindness of his heart, but in the end, she is very curious. She agrees.

Azel asks what she has a question about, and Emma asks if any question is acceptable. Azel assures her that it is, after all, he is the Living God.

Okay, Emma would like to know about her future love life. It’s been on her mind to fall in love and settle down soon, and she wonders how that will go.

As soon as she asks, Azel’s benevolent smile twists into a scowl. He wonders why everyone wants to learn about their love lives, it’s really revolting to him.

He tells Emma that if she’s that concerned, go chase after Silvio. To her shock, he explains that Silvio definitely likes her, so that’s her best bet. He gives her a pitying look and says that he has lost his motivation to perform a divination for her.

Emma is upset, she was looking forward to seeing what a divination performed by the Living God would look like.

Okay, fine, if she doesn’t go after Silvio, maybe she’ll meet someone else. Whom? He doesn’t know, and he doesn’t care.

Emma argues that Azel’s prediction is far too vague, and Azel tells her that’s the beauty of fortunetelling. He then extends his hand towards Emma. He would like his fee for divining her fortune now.

Emma reminds him that his fortune-telling services are free. Azel assures her that she’s just that special – he charges friends and family more. Emma doesn’t want to be special to Azel, who is more of a fraud-scammer than a real god.

Azel clicks his tongue, Emma never learns, does she? He pinches her cheek, reminding her that he’ll add enduring insults to her overall debt. Emma argues that she wasn’t insulting him, she was telling the truth. Azel snorts, her sincerity takes a certain kind of courage, doesn’t it? This time, Azel’s smile is strange and his grip on her cheek is lighter.

If what Azel said was true and not a deception, Emma will be able to meet a suitable man with good taste. At this point, as long as he’s not Azel, Emma will be happy.

Azel tells her not to worry, he’s not interested in her romantically either. Honestly, their compatibility is the lowest possible, the world would end before they came together.

Besides, instead of think about love, Emma should use her brain to think of a way to repay her debt to Azel. Still teasing Emma’s cheek, Azel’s smile grows dark and evil. When Emma scowls at him, he only laughs.

Really, she would be happy to fall in love with anyone other than this dark-hearted evil god.

(You heard it here first, route is over, no chance of romance between these two)

[astermath]

fucking finally

pairing: chad meeks-martin x fem!reader

summary: the tension between you and chad finally comes to a conclusion after he takes you home from a party.

word count: 2K

warnings: cursing, porn w a bit of plot??, chad being a king and a charming mf, protected sex, oral (f receiving), MINORS DNI!!!

notes: first time writing for chad, I just found out his actor likes tattoos and anime?? what a dream man ahdshfd. anyways this was supposed to be abt something else but I got carried away, so I'll keep the other idea for another time lol. not proofread!!! lmk if you'd like to be on the tag list for further chad meeks-martin related content!

You and Chad had this strange "will they, won't they" tension going on ever since you met. You were kind of part of the friend group, sometimes tagging along to parties and hangouts, but not often enough for him to justify hanging out with you without it being a date.

And though Chad was well aware of his charm and charisma, and knew he could just ask you out, he enjoyed this thing you had going on. Though he wished it would lead to something, anything eventually.

And you felt the same. You weren't shy, you loved joking around with him, and you could tell there was something between you two. The tension had gotten to a point where his friends were practically starting to bet money on if you guys were going to hook up after each party or not.

And that night at the party was no different. The two of you jokingly (or not so jokingly) flirting back and forth, making Mindy practically lose it over your comments.

"Holy shit, can you two just like bang and get it over with already?" She sat on the couch next to Anika, an arm over her girlfriend's shoulder.

"I don't know," Chad said, his arm around you in the exact same way, "Can we?"

You rolled your eyes, legs flung over his as you sat on the couch across the other couple. "You fuckin' wish, big guy." You hid your smirk behind the plastic red cup you were sipping out of.

"Yeah," He looked at you and winked, before downing his drink, "kinda do."

The rest of the night was pretty eventful. You didn't drink that much, but you'd danced a lot, and even ran away from Chad who swore he was going to toss you into the frat house's pool.

Needless to say, you were spent. So Chad offered you a piggy back ride back to your dorm, and you happily obliged. Your cheek was squished against the back of his shoulder, eyes half closed as you gently rocked up and down along with the trudge of his steps.

"You fallin' asleep back there?" He turned his head slightly and you looked up.

"No, no... Wide awake, actually." You smiled sleepily.

"Great," He patted your thigh, "cause we've got some stairs to do."

You groaned loudly, knowing damn well he could easily do those stairs with you on his back. But you decided not to argue, hopping off his back. You wobbled for a moment, and he was ready to catch you, but you held your hand up in protest.

He walked behind you the entire way up the stairs. In case you fell, of course, not because he had a great view of your ass from that angle. Totally not. Although he had to admit the red lacy panties you wore under that skirt made an appearance in his line of sight every now and then.

You opened the door to your room and plopped face down onto your bed, groaning into the pillow. "Ugh... 'M so sore..."

He waited in the doorway for a second, grinning at how dramatic you were. "At least take your shoes off, that's just bad etiquette." He sat down on your bed and took off your shoes for you, setting them down gently.

"Yeah, well..." You turned around on the bed, an arm laid over your stomach as you looked at him. "I think threatening to throw your crush into the pool is bad etiquette too."

He smirked, scooting a little closer. "My crush huh? I didn't know we were confessing things to each other."

"Hey, I haven't confessed shit," implying you had yet to confess something to him, "but I don't see you denying anything."

He leaned in, holding himself up by his arm next to your body. You could smell him, just like when you were on his back before, and you were lying if you said it didn't turn you on at least a bit.

"I feel like it's kinda beyond denying now..." His hand gently settled onto the curve of your jaw, tilting your head slightly more towards him. You looked gorgeous underneath him like this, eyes full of curiosity and anticipation, body so receptive to every touch.

"Yeah," you smiled, "it is." You looped your arms around him, pulling him in for a sweet and passionate kiss. There was no one around you'd have to hide your desire from, no one to have to pretend for, you could just let go in front of him.

He melted into the softness of your lips, tongue slipping through to gently run across your bottom lip. Fuck he was good, of course he was, his reputation preceded him. "Well don't you just taste the sweetest..." He spoke softly, lips brushing over yours.

"Might still be from the alcohol..." You both chuckled, staying close. He took off his jacket, tossing it to the side, before going back in to your neck this time.

The taste of your perfume mixed with your natural body drove him nearly insane, pressing feverish kisses to your jaw and neck. His thigh rested in between your legs, and you were very aware of its position as you subtly your hips, grinding onto his leg.

"So impatient..." He mumbled against your neck, a hand sneaking under your top and playing with the lacy hem of your bra.

You scoffed, pushing him back a little so you could pull your top over your head, almost noticing his pupils dilate at the sight of your exposed skin. You reached your hands behind your back, ready to unhook your bra, doing so bit by bit, then slowly pulling each strap over your shoulder with a teasing smile.

He reached out to move your bra, throwing it to the side to join his jacket on the floor. He palmed at your chest, eliciting a soft moan from you against his lips, the kiss growing more heated by the second. He felt your smile and pulled back slightly. "Who's impatient now, huh?"

He grinned, leaning back to pull off his own shirt. "Shut up." He shuffled a little further down the bed and pressed kisses to the exposed skin of your thighs. Bless you and your love for skimpy skirts...

You bit your lip, a soft giggle escaping you when he dragged his tongue over your inner thigh. "Why don't you make me, huh?" You knew it was a stereotypical comeback, but you couldn't help yourself, your mind wasn't functioning properly at that moment.

"Nah," he said, hooking his fingers around the hem of your skirt and slowly pulling it down, along with your panties. "you sound way too pretty to keep your mouth shut." He pressed a soft kiss right above your pussy, and a shiver of anticipation went over your entire body.

You arched your back when he ran his tongue over your slicked, silky folds, hands gripping your thighs and pulling them to rest over his shoulders. Your hands reached back to grip the pillow your upper half was resting on, whimpering his name softly. You could practically feel his grin against your cunt from the reactions you were giving him, but fuck, it felt so good, you could care less about how desperate you were being.

His tongue found your clit and your thighs clamped down onto him. The sweet taste of you earned an honest groan from him, sending vibrations to the sweet sensitive bud he was nipping at. He looked up at you, tongue slowly running up your entire slit and you swore you wore going to cum right then and there.

But he had other plans.

"As much as I'd like to make you cum all over my face," he pressed a soft kiss to your thigh, "I feel like we've been keeping ourselves waiting for long enough." He sat up, hands on his belt. "Unless you don't want to--"

"No," you interrupted, propping yourself up on your elbows, "I mean... Yes. Please." You chuckled, bringing a hand up to rest on your cheek, feeling just how hot your face felt. "I feel like I'm going to explode if we keep this tension up any longer."

"Agreed." He said, and unbuckled his belt, working on taking off his pants while you reached for a condom from your nightstand. You reached it out to him, and upon taking it, he gently took your hand and kissed the back of it. You giggled, catching your bottom lip under your teeth as you watched him roll the condom on.

"Turn around for me," He said, giving your thigh an encouraging tap. You obliged, getting on your hands and knees, dipping your upper body down into the mattress so your eyes was sticking up for him. "Christ..." He ran a hand over your right cheek, before coming down with a smack hard enough to leave a red imprint.

"F-Fuck!" You gripped the sheets beneath you, and he chuckled behind you.

"I know you like that." He lined himself up, rubbing his tip over your cunt to lube himself up. "You told me once... 'as a joke'."

All those "jokes" and teasing finally accumulated to end up here, beneath Chad, ass up and face down.

He groaned your name as he entered you, almost painfully slowly so, bodies having to adjust to each other for a moment as he stilled. "Shit, baby..." He gripped your hips, squeezing when you clenched around him. "So fuckin' tight for me... Just the way I imagined..."

"So... Full..." You moaned out, the sheer stretch he gave your cunt sending waves of tingling pleasure through you.

He grinned. "Not even fully inside yet sweetie."

You turned your head, giving him a daring smile before pushing your hips back until your ass was fully backed up into him, taking all of his length inside of you. The two of you took another moment to adjust, before he slowly started moving his hips back and forth.

His thrusts were slow at first, rhythmical, but that didn't last long, as you kept asking, almost begging him, to go faster.

"C-Chad, please... More, faster, fuck..." Your thighs trembled when he leaned over, his cock angled to rub against the spot that made your vision go blurry. He started grinding against you, quick, shallow thrusts as he put one hand on your shoulder, the other remaining on your hip.

The sounds of skin slapping skin, the bed squeaking and the delicious groans and whimpers from the both of you filled the room. The distinguishable scent of sex accompanied it, the atmosphere growing hotter by the second.

He removed the hand on your shoulder, looping it around your waist and reaching down to play with your clit, middle finger rubbing circles over the needy bud.

"Fuck, baby, if you keep doing that, I'm gonna--"

He cut you off by kissing you, tongue slipping past your lips and stifling your obscene moans. He pulls back, a pussy drunk smile adorning his pretty face. "Gonna cum? Yeah, me too sweetie, me too... Fuck, this pussy is too damn good..." He started kissing at your shoulder. "Shit, I'm close baby, so close--"

"Me too, me too, oh my god don't stop, don't stop!" Your hands roughly gripped the sheets below you, crying out his name as you clenched down onto him, juices dripping down your thighs as your orgasm crashed through your body like a tidal wave.

The feeling of your walls clamping down on him sent him over the edge, thrusting into you one last time before filling the condom with his hot cum, grunting your name into the skin of your shoulder.

He collapsed onto you for a moment, cock settled nicely inside you. He wished he could stay like that forever, just snug inside you like that.

He moved his strong arms around your waist and turned the two of you on your sides, now spooning.

"Kinda... Don't wanna pull out..." He said, still panting a little.

"Don't..." You whined sleepily. "Let's just... Stay like this for a bit."

"Yeah..." He pressed a gentle kiss to the crook of your neck. "I'd like that."

tag list <3

@777iii

[sweetsweetjellybean]

Anything You Want | Steve Harrington

Mr. Harrington's Secretary AU | 18+ No Minors

Summary: Steve stops by when his father isn't in the office asking for your help with the copier.

TW: FemReader. BJ, Fingering, Tiddy Fucking, P In V Cream Pie. Dirty Talk.

WC: 3909

“Your father isn’t here, Steven.”

His name has you looking up from the thick file spread across your desk. Steve Harrington is standing across the room, his tall body leaning forward, one hand on the older woman’s desk, the other behind his back, holding a small paper bag.

“Well, aren’t you looking nice today, Lorna,” his words drip with sugar. The gray-haired office manager peers over her glasses at him, her ordinarily sour face softening faster than a ripe avocado. 

He’s been finding excuses to visit you at work since the first time he found you standing alone at one of the events the company threw semi-regularly. A bunch of rich men congratulating each other on being masters of the universe, dragging along their trophy wives and other accouterments. In John Harrington’s case, that included his charming, handsome son, who would follow in his footsteps, and the hot young secretary that everyone assumed he was chasing around the desk. What the other men telling bad jokes and drinking top shelf scotch didn’t know is that the son wanted nothing to do with his father’s business and the secretary wasn’t putting out. 

“Is that a new blouse?” He asks, brushing a little of that golden-brown hair off his forehead, giving her every ounce of his attention.

“It is. I got from the JC Penny last weekend,” she giggles like a woman half her age as he leans closer, giving her that winning Harrington smile.

“I thought so,” he winks, “My dad asked me to pick up a copy of the file he needs, and on my way here, I passed the bakery over on Main, so I stopped in and got your favorite.” He pulls the paper bag out from behind his back and sets it on the desk in front of Lorna. 

Her eyes widen, and her mouth forms an O as she pinches the top of the bag and slides it closer, “Thank you, Steven. That was so thoughtful.”

“My pleasure,” he says, rapping his knuckles on her desk twice before straightening and turning towards you, “Do you have that file ready?”

“Which file was that?” you ask, trying to hide your amused smile.

“I think you know,” his tongue darts out, wetting his plush lips as he casually strolls over to your desk.

“Hmmm,” you tap your index finger against your mouth, “Yes, I think I know which one. I still need to make a copy.”

“I can do it,” Lorna calls from her desk, the paper bag crinkling as she pulls out a fluffy cupcake piled high with chocolate frosting. 

“You just enjoy that. I’ll give her a hand,” Steve calls over his shoulder, not taking his eyes off you. 

Shuffling some papers, you pull a green file folder from the bottom of the stack and hug it to your chest as you push away from your desk, “Thank you, Steven. That would be very helpful.”

His lips twist with a smirk as he follows you down the hall to the copy room, watching your hips sway in the tight skirt that hugs your ass just right.

The overhead fluorescents pop and hum when you flip the switch and step inside the small room with Steve coming in after you, reaching back to twist the lock on the door handle without even looking. 

“Where’s my cupcake?” You ask, batting your lashes and tossing the file on top of one of the two copiers that fill the space.

“Your mouth is going to be too busy for cupcakes,” his hand wraps around the back of your neck, pulling you close as his lips seal over yours. He wastes no time. His tongue pushes inside, stealing your breath. His muscles tense under your fingers as you move your hands up and down his polo-covered chest and moan into the kiss. 

“We have to be quiet, honey,” his kisses slow to soft pecks, “Can’t have Lorna figuring out your cumming on company time.”

“Oh, is that what’s happening?”

With his thumb and forefinger holding your chin, he ghosts his lips over yours, “Turn around and put your hands on the copier.”

Taking a moment to consider, you look up at him from under your lashes while letting your hand run down from the center of his chest to the hard bulge in his pants. The corner of your mouth rises when you feel him twitching in his jeans. With a shiver, you let him go and turn around. Exaggerating your movements, you place both hands on the glass plate arching your back and widening your stance as you lean forward. He drops down behind you, wrapping his hands around the front of your knees, drawing circles on the back with his thumbs. 

“That tickles,” you giggle, squirming in his hold. 

“Shhh,” he reminds you, lips placing an open-mouthed kiss on your calf. The slight roughness of his palms leaves your smooth skin tingling as his hands start their torturously slow slide up your legs, the tip of his nose dragging behind his thumb just before the wet press of his lips and tongue. He’s careful to leave no gaps, mouth a damp trail up the back of your thigh. The material of your skirt bunches against his wrists, rising with his hands. His thumbs tease the hem of your high-cut lace panties as your skirt is pushed higher until it’s rucked up around your hips. He nips the curve between your ass and thigh and soothes it with his tongue before brushing his nose over your center, breathing you in. Slick soaks your panties as you anticipate him pulling them to the side and licking into you, but those big hands stay gripping your hips, and his mouth moves along your pantyline, sucking at the flesh of your ass.

“Steve.”

“What is it, honey?” His question is followed by the pinch of his teeth. 

“I need you,” you complain, reaching back, running your fingers through his hair, giving it a tug when he pays you no heed. 

“So impatient,” he scolds, rising to his full height, holding you around the middle, sweetly kissing your temple, “Be good for just a little longer. I need a picture of my pretty girl for my wallet.”

“A picture? Wha-“

He spins you around quickly and cuts you off with his hungry lips, his hands slide down your waist until they wrap around the back of your thighs, and he lifts you onto the copier. A squeak of protest passes from your mouth to his when your hot skin comes in contact with the cool glass, and you rock from side to side, but he doesn’t relent. Holding you in place with a hand on your neck, his tongue tangles with yours, keeping you focused on his kiss as his other hand starts the copier whirring. A light flashes under you, moving from left to right, followed by the whoosh and click of papers printed with a black and white copy of the globes of your ass barely covered by your underwear. 

“That’s what you wanted?” you giggle against his lips.

“Uh-huh,” he smiles, ending the kiss by resting his forehead against yours, “but that’s not the only thing I want.” His hand smooths up your thigh until he can rub over the damp patch on your panties. His smirk returns when your mouth drops open, and you inhale sharply.

“You’re so pretty like this.” He moves his hand away from where you want it and uses the backs of his fingers to brush your heated cheek. 

“So soft,” his index finger trails from the collar of your silky shirt until he reaches the first button where it’s joined by the fingers from his other hand, “But not as soft as what’s underneath.” He leans forward, attaching his lips to your neck while he works them open. His mouth moves lower as he spreads open your shirt, kissing down the swell of your breast to the edge of the delicate lace. He pulls away to take in the sight of what he’s just uncovered.

“Beautiful,” the word floats breathy from his lips as he unhooks the metal clasp between your tits. Peeling back one side at a time, his eyes turn dreamy and heavy-lidded as he drinks you in. His hands move to cup your breasts, loving the way you fill them. The first touch of his lips against your pebbled nipple has the breath rushing from your lungs in a quiet whine. He sucks hard while swirling his tongue, a satisfied hum rumbling from his throat. 

“Oh, fuuu,” you bite down on your lip to keep from cursing. He smiles against you, taking his time before moving to your other side, sucking until you’re tipping your head back and arching into him. The copier creaks as you squirm, trying to relieve the growing ache.

“Please,” clutching at shoulders, pulling his head up so you can look into his eyes, “Please, Steve.”

His breath comes quickly through parted lips that hover an inch from yours. The inky black of his pupils crowds out the hazel. He reaches out to trace your kiss-stung bottom lip with the pad of his thumb, but you hold his large hand between both of yours and suck his thumb into your mouth. 

“How about a few more pictures? With my hands on you. Would you like that?” 

Whining in desperate confirmation, your hands join his on the copier to lift your hips and slide down your panties. They only make it to mid-thigh when you’re grabbing his hand and pressing it to your needy cunt. 

“Jesus,” his fingers part your wet lips to explore your slippery folds, “You’re dripping onto the glass.”

He curls back his other fingers, so just his index and middle circle your clit before sliding down to tease your entrance. Your grip on his wrist tightens as you whimper, rocking your hips, trying to get him inside you. 

“All this from a few kisses?”

Two thick fingers push inside you, replacing the ache with a stretch. He keeps going, curving his fingers to reach the spot that only he’s been able to find, deep enough that his thumb can rub circles around your pulsing bundle of nerves. It takes every ounce of your will to not cry out at the onslaught of pleasure. 

“There you go, honey. I’ll always give you what you want.”

Fisting the front of his shirt, you draw him closer, eyes fluttering closed as your lips connect and your tongue slides against his. Blue-green flashes permeate the darkness behind your lids as the machine captures images of his fingers disappearing inside you. More wetness trickles, aiding his movements when you realize all this is to satisfy his need to have you even when you’re apart.

“You make me feel so good,” you whisper, taking his bottom lip between yours.

“Yeah?” He asks, licking into your mouth, increasing the pace of his fingers, “Am I gonna make you cum?” 

“Mmmhmm,” you moan around his lips and tongue as your inner muscles tighten, and you begin your climb. With your fingers running through the hair at the nape of his neck, you relax into his kiss. There’s no need to chase it, you can trust him to get you there. He always does. 

“That’s it,” he says, feeling you fluttering around him, “You get so tight,” his fingers don’t stop even when the lighting hits and your legs shake, “Give me just a little more.”

Clutching onto him, your fingers dig into his skin as your body jolts uncontrollably. He covers your mouth with his trying to muffle your cries, and keeps working you until you just can’t –it’s too much. His fingers slow to a gentle in and out, his thumb comes off your clit. He lets you come down, resting his forehead against yours, tiny kisses wherever his lips can reach without moving you. 

“I’m going to lunch,” Lorna shouts, her voice slightly muffled behind the closed door.

“Okay,” you yell, grinning at Steve, shaking your head, “We’re almost done.”

“She’s coming,” he calls, as his thumb taps your clit, sending an aftershock rocketing through you.

“Alright. Back in an hour,” she hollers right before the outer office door squeaks and clicks shut.

The smug look on his face has you pushing at his shoulder, silently scolding him. He chuckles, his face taking on a well-practiced look of innocence even as he pulls his finger from inside you and licks them clean. He kisses you once to share the taste before helping you down from the copier.

“Can you hand me my underwear?” 

“We’re not done,” his hands close over your fingers, stopping you from straightening your clothes, “I have an idea. Come with me.”

He twists the lock on the door handle, sticking his head out to confirm the office is empty, and grabs your hand pulling you out of the copier room, barely dressed. 

“Steeeve,” you squeal as you move through the empty office, gripping the front of your shirt to keep it closed until you’re standing in front of Mr. Harrington’s locked office door.

“Where did you get that?” Your eyes widen when he pulls a key from his pocket and inserts it smoothly into the lock. The corner of his mouth raises in a sly smile as the door opens, and he ushers you inside, closing the door behind you.

The blinds are drawn with their slats partially open, creating vertical lines of light against the navy blue carpet and large cherry desk. Steve flips one of the switches next to the door, turning on the three two stained glass lamps that flank the large built-in bookcase behind the desk, lighting up the room with soft light. 

“What’s this idea?” The slickness between your legs, reminding you still have another hour before anyone will return. Steve planned this well.

“Well,” he pulls out the high-backed leather chair from the desk, turning towards the side before sitting with his legs spread wide, hands moving to his belt, “What do you think? Wanna get on your knees for me, honey?”

“Hmmm,” you pretend to consider his offer as you round the desk trailing your fingertips on the shiny finish of the desk, moving until you’re standing between his parted legs, looking down at the outline of the hard cock straining against his jeans. Gripping the top of the chair, you lean it back, bending slightly, bringing you level with his face. His hands move to your open shirt, pushing it back away from your breasts so he can knead them. His mouth chases yours, but you deny him, nipping his top lip lightly before slowly dropping to your knees. 

“Fuck,” his hips jump as you pop open the button on his jeans and slide down the zipper.

“Is this why I didn’t get a cupcake?” You pout, tugging at the waistband of his jeans and boxers, and he raises his hips so you can slip them down, his thick length bobbing out from his body finally freed. Pink with a long veiny shaft that’s just as pretty as the rest of him. 

“Oh, I think what you’re getting is a much bigger treat.” His eyes close for a moment as your hand wraps around the base, and you kiss the smooth, shiny tip. It’s your turn to smirk when his lids open revealing eyes that are almost black. Opening your mouth, you stick out your tongue, letting it sweep around the head before licking up and down the length. 

“Mmm,” the vibrations from your lips tease his sensitive spot, “I think you’re right.” You take another long lick before finally taking as much of him as you can into the wet heat of your mouth, hollowing your cheeks while your hand works the base.

A groan rumbles from behind his clenched teeth, “Look at you,” he smooths some hair back from your face as you bob up and down on his cock, “I bet every man in this office wants to see you like this, but you’re mine,” his hips rise, fucking into your mouth, “They can’t have you.”

Sticking your tongue out, you let him use your mouth until your jaw starts to ache. He doesn’t stop flexing when you switch to your hand, licking at his slit, running your tongue along the underside until reaching the base to gently suck one of his heavy balls. 

“Christ,” his fingers tightly grip the leather arm of the chair as the precum starts leaking from his tip, and you move your mouth back up his shaft, collecting it before it drips. He sneaks a hand between you, rolling your nipple with the rough pads of his fingers, the zap of electricity that shoots to your core, highlighting how wet and needy you’ve become. 

Pulling back, you rise higher on your knees, smiling as you run your hands up from your hips to the softness of your chest. Steve’s breath hitches, and his lips part as you lean forward, fitting his cock in the valley of your breasts, pushing them together, bouncing them up and down his shaft.

“Jesus-fuck-baby,” his words string together, his hips jumping in the chair involuntarily. A whimper comes from you at the sight of his rudy leaking tip sliding up your chest, your tongue snaking out to chase it. 

“Fuck, that’s enough,” he pants, using his feet to push the chair back, the wheels squeaking. He stares at you breathing hard, and you know how wild you must look. Hair a mess. Lips red and swollen. Clothes open and askew.

“Bend over the desk. I want to feel you squeezing me when I cum.”

Desperation launches you both into a flurry. Steve stands quickly, shoving his pants further down his thighs, sending the desk chair careening backward into a bookcase. While you’re off the floor, positioning yourself over the polished wooden desk, tugging your skirt high around your waist, pushing back your hips, ready to take anything he’ll give you. 

“Plea‐”

“I’m here,” he wraps a hand around your thigh, bringing one of your knees to the edge of the desk, opening your sticky wetness to the cool air, “I won’t make you wait.”

With a hand around his base, he glides through your folds, back and forth, making you throb until his tip catches at your entrance and pushes in slowly, letting you feel every ridge, every vein, every inch of him. Your muscles stretch and clench, trying to draw him in deeper. 

“That’s it, good girl. Take it all,” he groans, moving until he’s bottomed out and his hips are pressed tight against you. Through the thick fog of lust and need, there’s a brief moment spent savoring the connection before he begins to move in long, hard strokes, pulling out almost all the way before driving in with the snap of his hips. The desk jerks across the carpet, and an organizer falls, spilling its contents, pens embossed with Harrington roll under the furniture. White dots burst in your vision with every thrust. You’re burning for him. He struck the match the evening you met, and you’ll never have enough. 

“This is where I belong,” his hand slides around your hip, pressing down just above your pubic bone, feeling himself moving inside you, “Right here in your warm cunt. Want you to feel me for the rest of the day,” his fingers move lower until they’re drawing circles over your clit, “I need you to cum for me.” 

His rhythm picks up, making the fire burn hotter. Your body tightens, obeying him without giving you a choice. Twisting to look over your shoulder, you grab at his shirt, bringing him closer until your gasping mouths meet.

 “Anything,” it’s a whisper against his lips, a spark from the blaze.

“What, honey?” The question rises with the smoke.

“Anything you want.”

A line creases his brow, and there’s something behind his eyes, but it’s gone in an instant. He spins you back around, wrapping an arm around your middle, pulling your back flush against his chest, your knee falling from the desk. He’s holding you together when you’re so close to falling apart. His mouth moves up your neck to your ear.

“Just want this,” he adds more pressure to the hand working between your thighs. Tiny circles that feel closer to a cyclone, “Just want you,” he moves in short bursts like he can’t bear to leave, right at the edge, swelling inside you, “Always want you.”

You let go into the white-hot flame, but you’re not alone. It consumes you both. Crying out, you quake around him, feeling his hot release, hearing his satisfied groans. Your bodies writhe until all that’s left is embers. The wall clocks measured ticks seem louder, the only sound in the now quiet room apart from both of your shuddering breaths.

He presses a kiss to the silk covering your shoulder and begins slipping away. Your muscles contract in protest, trying to keep him longer, but he’s right. Once he’s gone, you can still feel him. He moves around you, helping you clean up, straightening the disarray.

“Why are you still here, Steven?” Lorna frowns disapprovingly at the way Steve is perched on the corner of her desk, with one of her picture frames in his hand.

“Is this your daughter?” 

She snatches the frame from his hand as you quietly make your way back from the restroom with all your buttons buttoned and hair smoothed back into place. Taking your seat you pick up the small stack of photocopies tapping them on the desk to straighten them. 

“Doesn’t your father need that file?” She questions.

“That’s right he does,” he snaps his fingers like he just remembered,” I better get going. I just didn’t want to leave this pretty girl all alone,” he looks over his shoulder at you, giving you a wink. She sighs loudly and goes about settling at her desk. 

The black and white images of his hands and your panties are hidden when you fold the papers into thirds before stuffing  them in an envelope and holding it in the air, waiting for him to come and take it from you. Looking smug, he wanders over collecting his prize from your outstretched hand.

“Listen,” he says, leaning close, keeping his voice low, “Can I take you out tonight? Buy you dinner?”

“Hmm, that depends, Steven,” you busy yourself with the files on the desk, “Is there going to be dessert?”

“I’ll pick you up at six,” the confident Harrington smile stretches across his face. He doesn’t say anything else, just a wave to Lorna as he disappears through the door, envelope in hand. Your eyes follow him through the window glass, watching as he ducks into his BMW and drives off.

“Ahem,” Lorna clears her throat, breaking you from your stare, “I’d nip that in the bud if I were you. That boy’s got a crush, and it’s gonna lead to nothing but trouble.”

“Of course,” you say, turning towards the screen of your word processor, fingers clicking across the keyboard as you type up a letter. Satisfied with your answer she goes back to her work. Glancing up at the clock, you count the hours until six, the ache between your thighs reminds you that trouble is exactly what you want.

@loveshotzz @superblysubpar @boomhauer @myobmaya @litereader

Secertary AU Masterlist Here

If you've enjoyed this fic, please reblog and leave a comment. I'd love to hear from you. Let me know if you'd like to see more of the secretary reader.

[obxone]

Love or Lust

Edited-ish. ~800 words.

“Rafe, get out,” Sarah orders her brother as she unloads her shopping bags onto one end of the sofa, glancing at her older brother as he lounges on the other end.

 A book is in his hand, and his annoyance is clear as he stares at Sarah and you over the top of the book. “Why?”

 “Because she’s about to change,” Sarah points to you as you stand by the door.

 “You have a bedroom!”

 “It still smells like paint,” she huffs. "We went there first."

 “Then use a bathroom.”

 Sarah gestures to the massive amount of shopping bags. “Does it look like all of this will fit into a bathroom?”

 He shrugs. “Not my problem.”

 “Sarah…” You reach for her hand, but she ignores you and glares at her brother.

 “You are such an asshole, Rafe.”

 He smirks, not bothered by her words at all.

 “It is fine, Sarah. I’ll take one outfit at a time to the bathroom.” You reach for the first bag and dig out a skirt and a top. “I’ll be back.”

 You offer her an encouraging smile in hopes that they will not fight in your absence before you slip out and into the bathroom. "Relax."

 Before you know it, it is six outfits later and you are exhausted and growing annoyed as Sarah complains about the way the shirt bunches at your waist. “Try this one.” She holds up another top.

 “It is just a date, Sarah, why does it matter this much?” You ask as you reach down and grip the hem of the least favorite shirt you bought today before pulling it up and off.

 She shrugs, digging around in a bag for the earrings that you had fallen in love with at the shop. “Because it’s your first date in over a year.”

 “Right,” you huff and grab the new shirt after tossing the ill-fitting shirt back into a bag. “Can I not wear a dress? I bought three of them.”

 “Umm…” Sarah sighs, after digging in another bag. “Yeah… I can’t find those earrings. They may be in the car.” She leaves without another word, and you move closer to the sofa to find one of the dresses. You fish out two of the three before turning and freezing when your gaze meets Rafe.

 “I forgot you were even here,” you whisper, pulling the dress up to cover your chest. “Umm… okay, I’ll go to the bathroom and change.”

 “Why?” He asks, smirking from behind his book, enjoying the view. “You’ve already started in here.”

 “You are shameless.”

 He shrugs. “Who is the lucky guy?”

 “Conner.”

 Rafe grimaces. “That tool?”

 “What?” You ask, pulling the dress over your head before removing the pants now that the skirt is covering your lower half. “You know someone better?” He looks back at his book, and you smirk. He thinks he knows better. “Who? You?”

 “At least you would never get bored with me.”

 You laugh, shaking your head. “Rafe, you do not know the difference between lust and love. Why would I even bother?” You move to his side and move your hair over your shoulder. “Zip me.”

 He stands, discarding the book, and your eyes flutter shut at the feeling of his breath fanning over the back of your neck. “Because,” he starts as he zips up your dress before leaning in a little closer. His lips are by your ear. “You and I both know about your little crush.”

 Your cheeks warm, but you do not let him see it.

 “And you know what I want,” he murmurs, his fingers teasing the hem of your skirt, toying with your thighs.

 “And you aren’t shy about asking.”

 “I could demand.”

 You blush hotter as his hand dips between your thighs. “You wouldn’t dare.” Your voice is breathy, shaking, and he can tell he is doing something to you.

 “I don’t have to.”

 Your head falls back against his shoulder as his fingers brush your underwear, feeling how damp they are from the briefest touches.

 “Cancel the date with that tool and meet me later.”

 You turn to look at him, sliding your arms over his shoulders. “And what do I tell Sarah?”

 “I don’t care.”

 You shake your head and step away from him. “Right.”

 His mouth opens, but before he can utter a word, Sarah is rushing back in. A pair of really pretty gold hoops in her hand. “Got them!”

 You grin at her and reach for them as she looks at your dress.

 “That is perfect!”

 You grin, spinning as you put the hoops in your ears. You catch Rafe’s gaze again, and he smirks before going back to his book.

[hford0311]

Winter fun

Pairing: *1940s!Bucky x fem!reader*

*First a little flash back to the '20s*

Even as a child, Bucky would tolerate the snow, the ice, the cold. He would stay out just as long as he needed to before going back inside. You, meanwhile, would always race for your coat, hat, and everything in between when you saw the white fluff falling from the sky.

Today was no different. You woke to see the white powder outside your window, filling the street and sidewalk. You gave a small squeal, quickly dressing in your warmest sweater, socks tights, and skirt then re-discovering your winter outerwear. "Mama! I'm going outside!" You called in the apartment right before you shut the door behind you. "Wait!" Your mother called after you, making you pause halfway down the staircase. She just managed to put her robe and slippers on before she opened the door. "You're not going outside alone." You groaned and whined. One of the doors a floor above your mother opened. "Go, shoo, and I don't want to see you back at this door until dinner!" Mrs. Barnes' voice told her oldest children. "Bucky, Rebecca, Y/n is waiting to go outside with you!" Your own mother responded to the door being shut.

Next thing you know, all three of you were playing outside. You couldn't get enough. Snow angels, catching the fresh snow on your tongue! Rebecca whispered a dare to you. You giggled at the idea and nodded. A small ball of snow molded in between your mittens. You peaked over the small fort of snow and tossed it at the back of Bucky's head. "Hey!" He yelled in protest. You quickly slumped against the wall of snow, giggling with Rebecca. It was always fun to get a rise out of Bucky when it came to a grand victory, especially with the two year age difference. Winning over an older boy was a huge brag. "Nice throw, but he's gonna be mad once when he finds out it was you." Rebecca whispered. "I can take it. I love the snow. Bucky is a baby and hates it." You whispered back. "Y/n, Rebecca, if that was you, you better come out or there'll be trouble!" Bucky called the warning. You giggled. Rebecca almost stood, but you pulled her down. "Let him squirm," you threw another snowball at his face.

*December 1941*

Snowball fights and snow angels had now advanced to ice-skating as you grew over the next ten years. Plus, you learned it was an excellent excuse to hold onto your date from the last two years, not that you ever really got to do that. Your skills were good enough for some tricks, so it never bothered you much. You dressed in your warmest clothes and started up the stairs of the apartment building. You knocked on the Barnes' family door. "Rebecca!" You called, ice-skates dangling from your shoulders. She opened her door, ready to go. Bucky a few steps behind her. "You two can wait downstairs, I'll grab Steve." The oldest of your trio stated. A bit of shock hit. Rebecca grabbed your arm, walking downstairs. "Sorry, Mom insisted that James come with us. Turns out, she end up didn't forget how we came home late last year. So, it was big brother or nothing." She rolled your eyes. You secretly didn't mind. "I still think it was worth it." You stated. Affection had grown in your heart for the only male Barnes. However, you never did tell Rebecca that.

The four of you trekked your way to the less-populated skating pond. Less people meant more room for you to try tricks and Steve could go at whatever pace he felt comfortable without glares or odd looks from others. "Yes! Look! No one's here yet!" You exclaimed and raced to the bench closest to the pond and traded your boots for skates.

Hours were spent on that little pond. However, you never got bored of it or let the cold bother you. "Y/n, let's go, the sun's starting to set!" Bucky called to you from the bench. Rebecca and Steve were waiting at the top of the hill. "Okay, just let me do one more go of it." You responded and skated across the pond, getting closer to the center. "Don't get so close to the center!" Steve yelled. You rolled your eyes and kept circling, inching closer to the middle. "It's thick enough, Steve!" You leaped and twirled. Bucky sighed as he noticed the other pair starting to shiver. "Head on back, we'll catch up with you."

Crash! Splash! Screams!

"Oh, shit!" Bucky exclaimed and ran down to the pond. All of them could only see the circle of broken ice and your splashing arms. "Bucky! Be careful!" Rebecca yelled as her brother got on the ice with his boots.

You don't remember how you got there, but you were now right outside of the building, body slumped against Bucky's chest and shoulders as he carried you. "Cold," you murmured into his ear. "I know, we'll be inside soon." He comforted.

Steve went home, Rebecca helped you change into dry clothes as Bucky did the same on his own. "You're lucky," she mentioned as you got under the blankets on your bed. "I know." She sighed and sat next to you. "If Bucky wasn't there- I-" you grabbed her hand. "Don't think about it. I'm fine." You tried to convince her. The man of the hour then appeared in the doorframe. "Mom needs you," he mentioned to Rebecca. "I'll keep an eye on her." The siblings traded places.

This time, Bucky grasped your hand, "Still pretty cold," you nodded along with him. "Scoot over," he stated, standing and taking off his second pair of shoes. You obeyed. He managed to get under the blankets and wrapped his barely warmer body around yours. "We'll warm each other up." Your foreheads were pressed together. "Thank you...you saved me." You whispered. "Anyone would've-" "No," Bucky hushed you and kissed your forehead. His blue eyes met yours. "Still cold?" He questioned. Your head nodded. "Let me fix that," he breathed and pressed his lips against yours letting the warmth spread.

[lovelytsunoda]

better be good to me // nyck de vries

summary: he's trying to hide that he's famous. she thinks she's finally met a normal man. one weekend trip is enough to knock every perception of him on it's side.

pairing: nyck de vries x reader

warnings: takes place before nyck got fired, nyck's kind of shifty about who he is, very brief mention of a piss k*nk, allusions to sexual activities, happy ending because I beleive in happy ever afters.

Oh, you better be good to me That's how it's gotta be now 'Cause I don't have no use You loosely call the truth You better be good to me

“there’s no way he can afford this if he is who he says he is, you do know that, right?”

“you used to work for red bull and you turned out fine.” she laughed at her roommate, pulling a few dresses out of her closet and throwing them into her suitcase.

“I worked on college campuses and made minimum wage.” eleanor rolled her eyes. “I could not afford to whisk my lover away for a weekend in austria.”

y/n rolled her eyes, flopping down on the double bed. “you worked for minimum wage hocking energy drinks on campus. nyck works in advertising.”

just under eight months ago, y/n y/l/n Met the man of her dreams. nyck de vries was sweet and funny and gentle and best of all, he was normal. he wasn’t a macho frat bro athlete or a film bro who’s favourite movie was ‘scarface’. he didn’t have a hidden piss kink. he was just nyck.

“I’m just saying that I don’t think he’s being totally honest about who he is. maybe he’s some dutch nepo baby burning daddys money.”

“and would that be so bad?” y/n laughed, tossing a floral skirt at her roommate in retaliation. “I finally meet a normal guy, someone who makes me feel incredible about myself, and you’re questioning it?”

eleanor sighed, looking over at her best friend. “I’m just looking out for you. I want you to be safe, even if you are choosing to go to a whole new country with a man you barely know.”

“we live in a small continent, ellie. it’s a six hour drive across the border, i can come home at any time.”

y/n never has any reason to doubt that nyck was exactly who he said he was. sure, he dressed a little too nicely for a twenty-seven year old and he drove a car so expensive that she could only dream of owning one like it, but she took one as a sign of maturity, and the other as a sign of a healthy work ethic.

“just be safe. and tell me all the gory details. i wanna know what the little man gets up to in bed.”

“eleanor!”

two days later, she was in the passenger seat of nycks toyota supra, speeding down a one-lane road on the way to spielberg, not a care in the world or another car in sight as she rolled the window all the way down, hair flying around her face as she sang along to the radio, a classic rock station that she knew nyck couldn’t stand but had put on just for her.

his hand rested comfortably in her bare thigh, rubbing reassuring circles as he looked over, a grin on his face as he watched her intently.

if only she knew what he was hiding. would they still be able to have moments like this, he wondered to himself, car hugging the curve of the road as he turned.

as he pulled up the hilton suites he’d booked for the weekend, a sprawling lodge located in the hills, behind a wrought iron gate only accessible with a confirmation code from your booking receipt, y/n felt her heart contract in her chest as she saw the hordes of people surrounding the gates.

“nyck, why are all these people here?”

“they must just be in town for the race.” nyck hummed, trying to steer through the crowd without running over any fans dressed in red bull regalia, thankful that he had sprung to buy the tinted windows.

“race?” she raised her eyes, pushing her sunglasses up on her head. “what race?”

“formula one at the red bull ring this weekend.” nyck said, finally steering the supra through the barely open iron gate, security officers pushing back the fans as he made his way up the winding driveway. “they gave me some paddock passes at work for the weekend. i remembered how you said you used to love racing in school and I thought you might want to see it up close and personal.”

y/n smiled, reaching to clutch his hand in hers. “babe, that was five years ago. i drove a stock car for my university’s shitty team around a homemade dirt track because we lived in a town that was so far away from everything that there was nothing else to do. it was a glorified demolition derby.”

“and you still haven’t shown me any videos of it.”

she laughed as nyck pulled into a parking space. “it never came up in conversation!”

“you can’t just tell me that you were once a stock car driver and not back it up with photographic evidence!”

they headed inside the hotel, walking hand in hand. they only brought in one suitcase each, the rest of the bags hidden in nycks trunk. all his racing gear was still in the car, a pit in his stomach as he though about confessing, about explaining who he truly was.

but in his defence, everything could have easily been found by googling his name.

he unlocked the suite door, ditching his suitcase and his shoes by the mirrored closet door. to nyck, this was just another hotel room paid for by management. but to y/n? she felt like she was sitting in the lap of luxury as she buried her bare feet in the carpet, walking towards the french balcony doors.

“nicky, this place is incredible!” she laughed, twirling around and trying not to hit the tv as she laughed, gesturing to the large tub in the corner of the room. “is that a jacuzzi?”

and nyck looked at her in pure adoration, laughing as he pulled her into his arms, kissing her softly. “only the best. you and me are going to have lots of fun in there tonight.”

“why wait?” she grinned roguishly, leaning over to turn the taps on the tub, brushing up against her lovers crotch. “we could have fun now.”

nyck was a goner before she had even taken her shirt off.

the next morning, he was running through all the ways that he could tell her who he was before he got to the track. by the time he was done his shower and drinking his kale smoothie, he had exactly no ideas.

by the time they got to the track, he had admitted defeat. he’d let the massive motif of his face in the side of the alphatauri building do all of the talking.

they walked through the paddock hand in hand, and as nyck stopped to wave at everyone, confusion started to well in her stomach.

why did everyone in the paddock know who her boyfriend was?

“um, babe, we just walked past the red bull building.” she pointed out, gesturing with her thumb towards the large navy building emblazoned with the face of sergio perez.

“just trust me, sweetheart. it will all make sense.” nyck reassured, kissing her knuckles as he turned towards the alphatauri building.

“oi, de vries!” someone shouted from a balcony “nice to see you, big guy!”

and that’s when she saw it, freezing in her path and dropping nycks hand. he didn’t notice as first, only turning back to look for her once he stood in the doorway. he found her standing at the edge of the patio, staring up at the flag fluttering in the breeze. it had her boyfriends face on it, and he was dressed a nomex racing suit, a much more expensive version of the tags she wore in college.

nyck sighed, taking a few steps forward as he tried to think of something to say. something, anything that could explain why his face was on the side of a building inside a formula one paddock.

“y/n, please, just let me explain.”

“eleanor was right.” she shook her head, not even looking at nyck before she skipped down the patio steps, running as far away from the alpahtauri building as she could.

how could nyck have lied to her for so long? did he take her for a fool? did he think she’d think any different of him if he knew the truth?

or, did. he not tell her because she didn’t mean anything to him?

nyck would find her sitting on a picnic bench in the paddock, reading her boyfriends wikipedia page. if he had lied about being a formula e championship winner, what else has nyck de vries lied to her about?

“hey, y/n…” nyck sighed, sliding his hands into the pockets of his chinos. “can we talk?”

“i don’t know, nyck. if that even is your real name.” she scoffed, dropping her phone into her bag. “you know how many people have stopped me and asked if I’m your girlfriend because you’ve told them so much about me? yet you’ve told me nothing about any of this.”

“well, im going to start by admitting that nyck isn’t even my real name.”

“i know.” she crossed her arms over her chest, growing at her lover. “I’ve read your wikipedia page, hendrik nicasius.”

nyck sighed, taking a seat next to her on the bench. “i guess I deserve that. can I at least explain?”

“you can do whatever you want. but please, give me one good reason to stay here with your lying ass instead of calling a rental car and driving back to eleanor, who will then say ‘I told you so’.”

“i didn’t tell you because when I was with you, I didn’t feel like i had the weight of the entire sport on my shoulders. you’ve read my wiki page, so you know how I got here. and you know how difficult it has been this season.” nyck started, half reaching for his hand before clenching his fingers into a fist and withdrawing the action. “you didn’t look at me and see nyck de vries, f1 rookie. you looked at me and saw hendrik, a normal guy who wants to enjoy a normal life.”

she nodded, anger evaporating from her bones when she thought about the situation from nycks perspective. yes, he had lied, but he did it out of the goodness of his heart. he had done it for the right reasons.

“i get it. you didn’t want me to see you any differently.”

“I just wanted you to see me for who i was.”

y/n frowned, reaching for nycks hand. “I’m still pissed at you for lying to me. but I understand. nicky, this is a fever dream. if you told the nineteen year old stock car driver i used to be that I’d be here with you right now, i wouldn’t have believed you.”

nyck nodded, leaning forward to place a kiss on her hairline. “I love you. and I hope this doesn’t change anything between us.”

“never. let’s go get you on track, car boy.”

TAGS

@magnummagnussen @scuderiamh @libraryofloveletters @lorarri @sidcrosbyspuck @diorleclerc @scuderiasundays @thatsdemko @oconso @silverstonesainz @clemswrld @love4lando @httpiastri

[zablife]

As Long As I Live (Part 3)

Tommy Shelby & Amelia Holland (OC) x Bonnie Gold

Summary: Bonnie begins to fall for Amelia. Lizzie invites Amelia to her birthday party, but the girl garners unwanted attention.

Author's Note: Requested by the lovely @kpopgirlbtssvt.

Warnings: language, mention of drugs, assault and blood

Masterlist

"One more stop before we head home,” Tommy proclaimed, steering the car toward King Maine’s boxing gym. When they arrived, Tommy glanced at Amelia quickly before exiting the car. Noting her eagerness to follow, he leaned back into the driver’s side window with a stern look. Before she could ask he warned, “This is no place for a young lady, Amelia.”

“Then it’s lucky I’m no lady,” Amelia grinned at him mischievously. “Please…I’ll be with you. What could happen?” she begged.

Tommy shook his head with a laugh and opened the door, allowing her to slide down the bench seat. “Alright, C’mon,” he motioned.

Amelia scurried out of the car and fell in step behind her father, wide eyed at the sight of two large boxing rings and a dozen men in training all around her.  The atmosphere was thick with stale sweat and the muffled sounds of leather gloves striking flesh, groans punctuated by an occasional thump against the ropes.

Almost immediately upon their arrival Tommy’s presence was requested for a business matter and Amelia was told to wait on a bench. Full of curiosity, her eyes scanned the room. Her eyebrows raised at the sight of Bonnie in the far ring sparring with a lad twice his size.

As she watched the young man, she scowled at his overconfidence, taunting his opponent like a bothersome fly. She could see the rage building in the larger man, his balance faltering slightly with every dodge of his fist by Bonnie. She couldn’t help but wonder if the bravado was only a tactic to wear down his opponent for lack of proper skill. Drawn to the performance, she found herself inching closer until she was hanging at the ropes. Finally she couldn’t stop herself from shouting out in frustration, “For fucks sake, hit him already!” 

Bonnie’s face registered a momentary jolt of shock before furrowing his brow in concentration and delivering a knock out punch. The larger man’s body hit the canvas with an enormous thud, landing before Amelia, his arm splayed out close enough for his glove to touch her. “What did you do?” she gasped, looking up into the ring.

Bonnie squatted to her level and said, “Thought you told me to hit him.”

“I-I did, but I wasn’t expecting that,” Amelia sputtered, taking a step backward.

Bonnie huffed out a laugh. “You underestimate me.”

“You’re talented enough, I’ll give you that,” Amelia replied with a roll of her eyes, “but has anyone dared tell you that your defense could use some work or that your left hand is weak?” she ventured.

Bonnie looked down at his left glove and held it up in a guard position. 

“See? You carry on that way and all it’ll be good for is wanking,” Amelia chided.

“If you know so much, why don’t you show me?” he responded without thinking. Then with a blush creeping into his cheeks, “the stance, I mean.” He eyed her briefly before holding up the rope allowing her entry into the ring.

Never one to shrink from a challenge, Amelia looked to see if anyone was watching and gathered her skirts, climbing up to join him. With a toss of her dark mane, she got to work, adjusting his posture and standing adjacent pretending to spar with him. “You see? It’s better!” she grinned triumphantly. Bonnie begrudgingly agreed, watching her with something akin to wonder and a hint of amusement. She couldn’t be sure as it was soon broken by the arrival of Mr. Maine.

“You! Get the fuck out of my ring!” he said, pointing to Amelia. “And, you, get down and skip me 200 for taking the piss out of a fine fighter!” he yelled at Bonnie, face red with anger as he took note of the man coming out of his stupor on the canvas.

Bonnie and Amelia looked at one another quickly before ducking between the ropes and jumping down from the ring. Bonnie picked up a skipping rope and began his punishment as Amelia looked on teasing, “So you want to be a champion of the world, do ya?”

“I want to do something with my life. I won’t see it wasted,” he said, barely breaking a sweat as the rope turned quickly in his hands, the muscles in his arms tensing ever so slightly with the familiar motion. His eyes held a look of determination and ferocity she’d never seen in anyone.

He finished his count, coming to a sudden stop before her. “What is it you want?” he asked, hazel eyes shimmering through the dust and filament of the sunlight streaming through the skylight. He passed her the rope, fingers brushing against hers a moment longer than necessary.

“Amelia!” Tommy’s voice echoed through the gym, the sound of his heavy footsteps breaking them apart. His face was tight with concern and a hint of anger as he pointed at her. “I thought you said you’d behave?”

Amelia looked at her father innocently. “Nothing’s happened,” she lied.

Tommy huffed in frustration. Pinching the bridge of his nose he sighed, “Can’t believe I have to say this, Amelia, but you can’t interfere with training.”

“But I wasn’t—“ she began to protest.

“Oi! No fucking fighting with the lads!” he shouted before storming out.

Amelia heard a snort and turned to see Bonnie peering at her from behind a bag, a huge grin on his face. She stuck out her tongue at him as he returned to his training, watching him a moment before rushing to the car, afraid to keep her father waiting any longer.

————————-

“Amelia! Amelia, come and have a look,” Lizzie called from her bedroom. 

Amelia popped her head inside the door to see her stepmother holding up a fashionable beaded gown that caught the light as she moved. “Do you like it?” Lizzie asked excitedly.

“It’s lovely, Lizzie,” Amelia said. Everything Lizzie chose was something devastatingly chic. She had an enormous wardrobe filled with clothes and insisted Amelia allow her to buy her garments as well when she arrived. It wasn’t an offer Amelia had been comfortable with in the beginning, but as she settled, she realized it was a way for Lizzie to show affection and learned to accept the gifts graciously.

“I’m pleased you like it because I’m giving it to you to wear for my birthday party,” Lizzie informed her with a wide smile.

“I couldn’t accept…” Amelia said, feeling the familiar tug of guilt at taking from the Shelbys.

“Yes, you can because it’s my birthday and I want to give it to you,” Lizzie said.

“Aren’t I supposed to give you a gift?” Amelia asked with a giggle.

“Wear it to my party and enjoy. That will be your gift to me,” Lizzie replied, holding out the gown. Amelia carefully took it into her arms, admiring the intricate patterns of beads as she traced her fingertips over the delicate needlework. 

“Thank you,” she nearly whispered.

“It’s going to be so much fun! Have you ever seen a ballet?” Lizzie asked as she turned to her wardrobe, sliding the hangers aside to find her own gown.

“No, I haven’t,” Amelia admitted. 

“Tommy took me to one when we were in Paris on our honeymoon. I’ve never forgotten it,” Lizzie mused, her hand pausing a moment over the rack. “He isn’t all paperwork and boring politics, you know,” she said with a breathy laugh. As she turned to face Amelia she had a tear in her eye as she said, “You must know it though, you’ve brought out the best in him since you’ve arrived.” 

Amelia could only beam in response to the compliment. All she wanted was a family to belong to and it seemed she’d finally found hers again. Feeling overwhelmed she excused herself to her room, closing the door as a tear slid down her cheek. She quickly wiped it away, fingertips fumbling to find the pendant around her neck. Closing her eyes she whispered, "Everything's going to be alright now, mum."

————————-

As the music from Lizzie’s party wafted through the rooms of Arrow House, Amelia fidgeted with her gloves and the neckline of her gown one last time before making her entrance. She knew she'd need more than a deep breath to get through the evening and swiped a glass of champagne from a passing tray. Downing it as quickly as possible, she hoped it would give her the courage to enter the room where partygoers were already gathering and chatting to one another happily.

“Little miss looks a treat, don’t she?” Isaiah said, jabbing Bonnie in the ribs to get his attention. Bonnie was already looking in Amelia’s direction, however, scanning the room for anyone who might have ill intentions toward her. When Isaiah began talking about tempting Amelia to follow them to the servants' quarters to play in the snow, Bonnie took offense.

“She’s a good girl, ‘siah. She don’t do that stuff,” he said, feeling sick at the thought of someone corrupting her.

“Maybe she’d like to try it with a fella she trusted then,” Isaiah said, with a roguish arch of his eyebrow.

“Leave her alone,” Bonnie warned, pressing Isaiah against the wall suddenly.

Isaiah chuckled as he watched Bonnie’s nostrils flare. “Alright, I see how it is. Want her for yourself,” he said breaking free and straightening his jacket.

“We’re here to protect her. That’s all,” Bonnie admonished him firmly, stepping back.

“Keep telling yourself that, mate,” Isaiah said with a smirk, sauntering off into the crowd.

Across the room, Ada took note of Amelia’s uncomfortable posture, rigid as a statue in the corner of the room. Taking pity on her, Ada crossed the floor to speak with her before the poor girl died of nerves. “Amelia, does Tommy know how lovely you look this evening?” she asked, leaning in to kiss her cheek.

“He’s been so busy, I don’t even know if he realized I was coming,” Amelia confessed absently as she looked around at all the elegant women around her. "I don't belong here. Everyone's starin' like they expect me to sell pegs and tell fortunes," she fretted.

Ada couldn't help but laugh at her remark. "First, they're not staring, they're admiring. And it's not just you! It's me as well, thank you very much," she said playfully. Leaning in, she whispered conspiratorially, "We're the only guests in the room under the age of sixty! They all wish they were as young and beautiful as we are," Ada said with a cheerful smile, linking arms with her niece. Amelia finally relaxed as she let out a little chuckle, grateful for her aunt's sense of humor.

If he hadn’t known before, Tommy was instantly aware of his daughter’s presence, his eyes growing wide at the sight of her when he entered with Lizzie on his arm. “Lizzie, what’s Amelia doing here?” he whispered harshly into his wife’s ear. 

“She’s here to celebrate my birthday, of course. She’s part of the family,” Lizzie replied from the corner of her mouth, trying not to let her guests see them arguing.

Tommy pulled her aside, a note of concern evident in his face as he confided, “There’s going to be political figures here tonight and I wasn’t ready to answer questions about-“

“Hang your politics, Tommy! She’s your daughter,” Lizzie scolded. “You weren’t ashamed of me, don’t hide Amelia away either.”

“It’s not about that, Lizzie. I can’t go into it right now," he rushed the words out as he realized he had to find his daughter. "I need you to trust me,” Tommy pleaded as Lizzie looked on in confusion.

“Tommy! Look who I found. Isn’t she lovely?” Ada gushed as she guided Amelia over to where Tommy and Lizzie stood.

Lizzie greeted her stepdaughter with a warm smile and a hug, complimenting her as Tommy thought of what to do next. Deciding it best to keep his daughter a well-guarded secret from his work colleagues in Parliament at least a bit longer, he motioned for Isaiah. Then turning to Amelia he instructed, “Darling, I need to ask you to go with Isaiah.”

“I don’t understand. Did I do something wrong?” Amelia asked, crestfallen at the thought of being asked to leave before the ballet even started. 

Lizzie exhaled loudly in obvious disagreement, looking away as Tommy placed a hand to Amelia’s arm reassuring her, “You’ve done nothing wrong, eh?”

Amelia nodded slowly, still not understanding. Tommy added, “I’ll explain later. Just please go.”

As Isaiah approached, Tommy leaned in to whisper something in his ear and Isaiah seemed to take pleasure in escorting Amelia away, tears welling in her eyes as she went.

“Was that really necessary, Tommy?” Lizzie asked, hands crossed over her chest.

“I’m afraid it was, love. I’m sorry,” Tommy replied, adjusting his bow tie and offering his arm. He breathed a sigh of relief as he noted the person he was most concerned about was not yet in attendance.

In the dining room Polly greeted Sir Oswald Mosley, approaching him in all her regal glamor, an ostrich feather fan in one hand as a barrier between them. “We have opium, cocaine and brandy,” Polly offered. “I also have a list of options for the end of the evening. You’ll notice the maids wear name tags. We hired them especially for those guests staying the night. All things are available except the ballerinas,” she said, temptation dripping from her tongue. A smug look of satisfaction crossed her lips as she finished speaking, certain one of the many options would content him.

As she fanned herself, she noticed Isaiah guiding Amelia away and her eyes tracked the pair as they hurried through the room. Mosley too took note, his gaze hawklike and predatory when he sensed opportunity. “Who might that be?” he asked of the raven haired beauty with rampant curiosity. 

Polly’s eyes flashed with momentary fire as she replied, “She is a princess amongst the Romanies and she too is unavailable.” 

—————————————————————

The crowd at Arrow House had grown, guests wandering in and out of the house even as the ballet began and Bonnie had lost sight of Amelia. His worry only intensified when he realized Isaiah was also missing. By the time he found them in the cellar, he was enraged at the sight of a giggly Amelia being held close by Isaiah. They were wrapped up together in a slow dance to the tune of the music seeping through the floorboards overhead. As Isaiah’s hands began to wander over her body, Bonnie charged at him, breaking them apart. 

“What the fuck are you doing?” Isaiah asked, pushing against Bonnie’s chest, slamming him into a wine barrel.

“I could ask you the same!” Bonnie shouted. “What did you give her?” he asked, taking hold of Isaiah’s lapels and shaking him.

“Nothing. I didn’t give her nothing,” Isaiah said disgustedly as they began scuffling. 

Bonnie ripped an empty blue bottle from Isaiah’s pockets and shoved it under his nose. “I don’t believe you!”

“Bonnie, stop it!” Amelia called to him, halting their fighting momentarily. “He’s telling the truth! We were only dancing," she said with a toss of her head. "Jesus, you’re worse than my father telling everyone what to do. Why can’t you leave me alone?” she huffed in frustration, tearing from the room and up the stairs into the darkness of the cool spring evening before they could catch her. Running as fast as she could past the manicured flower beds and deep within the maze of Arrow House's gardens, she stopped to listen to the music of Swan Lake.

She leaned against the craggy stone of the garden walls, breathing deeply as she looked up into the night sky full of twinkling stars. Maybe it was wrong of Lizzie to invite her tonight, pushing her father to acknowledge her existence so publicly. As she toyed with the beads of her expensive dress, she felt the hot tears collect at her lash line and bit them back, not wanting to admit how much she’d desired acceptance. Somewhere along the way, she’d wanted a place in the Shelby family and now it seemed she was being shut out. She dropped her head into her hands and wept, unaware of the footsteps along the path beside her.

“And what do Romany princesses have to cry about?” a smooth voice glided through the air over her shoulder and into her ear like the gentle hiss of a serpent. 

"I'm no princess," she corrected without looking up. “And no daughter either, apparently,” she sniffed almost inaudibly. Silence hung in the air for a moment before she turned to see a well dressed man with a thin mustache standing over her.

Her body stiffened when she realized his close proximity. “I should go,” she mumbled, brushing past him.

“You intrigue me. Do stay and tell me your troubles,” he coaxed, reaching an arm out to grasp her wrist. Amelia’s eyes darted to his as his lips curled up a bit too harshly at the corners, the lack of warmth mirrored in his darkened irises.

Amelia shivered at the lack of sincerity in the gesture. “I’m cold, I need to go inside now,” she forced out, looking down at her arm still trapped in his vice like grip.

Voice dropping dangerously low he growled, “I must insist.”

Continue reading Part 4

---------------

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[cookiesupplier]

Say My Name - Part Two (nsfw)

pairing: nicholas ruffilo x ofc

cw: oral sex (f receiving), fingering, P in V, unsafe sex (wrap it up folks), D/s undertones.

18+ Minors DNI

summary: Nicholas Ruffilo has been a fixture in Kaia's life for so long she couldn't imagine it without him. Even after he left for LA and his life of stardom took off.. the only problem, she never got the nerve to tell him how she felt about him. Could one more tattoo change everything?

words: 2209

author’s note: Part two, I promised the smut... I have no idea how good it is.. I.. yea. I tried lmfao. In my head it was fun lollll All unbeta'd, reader beware lol.

ALL COMMENTS ARE WELCOME!

Any replies to this post will be replied in a reblog because tumblr is a butt and for some reason wont let me reply to posts.. if anyone knows how I can fix it (I've done everything all the help suggestions have said) lemme knoowww.. cause support hasn't gotten back to me yet...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“I want you to say my name like that again.”

Hearing those words from Nick left Kaia in a state of shock for a moment, her eyes widened as she stared at him, his hands warm on her leg, rubbing gently as if to sooth her, like he thought she was a wild animal about to start running. Another moan slipped from her lips however when she realised that that wasn’t what he was going at all, his hand on her inner thigh was rubbing those circles up over the paper stencil of the tattoo higher up her leg, creeping up higher, and higher.. She shuddered as she felt those gloved covered fingertips stroking the line at the edge where her skirt barely was tucked into her underwear..

“Ky, when I’m done with you Sweetheart, you won’t be moaning anyone else’s name like that. Ever, again.”

And fuck, she’d never thought Nick would exactly be the possessive type, he was so very chill and easy going, but damn, if seeing the way his eyes were staring at her as he tugged her shirt from her underwear and proceeded to pull his hands away so he could remove his gloves, that was the hottest thing she had ever heard come from him.

He never had to worry though. Not that she managed to get those words out, that would mean being able to put thoughts together right now. Instead, now, as she saw Nick’s gloves come off, she was peeling the tattoo stencil from her leg and carefully discarding it aside, time for the tattoo was done, as much as she had been looking forward to this tattoo time with Nick, oh, the feeling of his hands on her, the thrill of those words, the possibilities that he was presenting to her, even for just one moment? She couldn’t pass that up.

Just one moment. One moment to bask in the sun.

He had turned away to shift his things away from the couch he’d set her on. If they were in the store, she wouldn’t be nearly as comfortable, and maybe she should think twice before she lifted her sun dress over her head and just dropped it to the side. When he was looking back to her, she swore she saw his eyes darken as they racked down her body, taking her in.. all the artwork, so much of it his.. Her bare form exposed, left in nothing but her bra and underwear..

“Damn, Sweetheart, you are something else.”

Nick had seen almost all of her in one way or another.. Almost all of her tattoos had been done by female artists, for obvious reasons, which he understood, while she loved him, she was a private person with body issues and having the man she was in love with tattoo intimate parts of her body… even just her thigh today was pushing it! Still, looking at her here and now, and seeing her before him, Kaia watched the way he took her in and she couldn’t even imagine what was going through that talented mind of his.

“Nick…”

Breathless as she watched him stand up, he was lifting his shirt over his head, next came his belt, and his pants and boxers were falling around his ankles leaving him in nothing, completely nothing. She unclipped her bar from her back and tossed the cage for her breasts aside happily, not that she had much to her curves, it always made her a bit self conscious actually, but when she went to slide her underwear down her legs,

“Don’t.”

Kaia looked up to Nicholas, his soft voice commanding as he moved to kneel on the couch. Moving over her, his hand running up her legs, bare, without his gloves this time, leaving her to shiver in an entirely different type of anticipation. Nick had always had a way about him, quiet, unassuming, but whenever he spoke to her, she couldn’t help but listen, and so everything he told her to do, like a zing running down her

“Let me Sweetheart.”

His fingers hooked at the lacy material to the sides of her hips, of course, she’d worn one of her best pairs, why wouldn’t she when she knew that he was at least going to catch a flash of them at some point today. The last thing she was going to do was wear a pair of granny panties to a tattoo appointment with the man she’d swear she’d been in love with since middle school! Sliding the material of her lingerie down her legs, ignoring the stickiness left from the stencil transfer, she didn’t care, the tattoo was so far from her mind, all she cared about was this man, and his hands, where every inch of his skin was in contact of hers as he leaned over her and turning his head pressing a kiss to her clean inner thigh, earning him a soft whimper slipping from her lips.He was going to kill her before the night was out. He was.

“Nicholas.”

There it was, he’d wanted her to say his name like that again, and he’d gotten it, only the breathy moan was slightly louder this time, pleading with him for a little more, and she watched as his lips curled into a smile as he pressed another kiss a little higher along her thigh.. And the next.. Until he was spreading her thighs and his tongue was pressing deep into her pussy, and she was gasping loudly in surprise as he was feasting on her like a man starved.

“Oh fuck, Nick!”

Never in her life would she have thought that today would have her ended up here, would she have thought that the latest in a long line of tattoos from her friend, one of her best friends.. Even if she barely saw him anymore, that never changed for her, would she have thought that just another tattoo would have his tongue licking deep inside her. Moaning out his name, reaching for his hair as he his lips found her clit, sucking as she tugged and his man bun was spiralling undone so her fingers could thread into his hair.

When two of those gifted fingers that she’d seen work his guitar slid into her body, playing her instead, curling inside of her, cried out in pleasure, her fingers tugging harshly at his hair as she fell over the edge into the abyss, clenching around his fingers as she orgasmed. Shaking, he didn’t stop though, he kept going, until she had to push him away with a whimper, his mouth and chin glistening a little with her cum, fuck, he looked divine like that.. But god..

“I’m not done with you yet Sweetheart.”

Oh, god, she hoped not.

Looking at him, her eyes flickering down his body, he was slim, and gorgeous, and his cock was jutting out and hard.. But she saw him pause.. Considering what came next as she sat up a little, he knees cradling his hips there in front of him..

“I’m safe.. Nick, I-”

“I know.. So am I, but I don’t have any-”

“We don’t need one.”

They’d talked so often, Kaia knew that Nicholas didn’t sleep around with fans all the time on the road, he’d rather hang out with his friends, crew and the band on the buses while on tour than find random chicks along the tour route while they were away. Sure she knew he dated over the years, neither of them had been celibate, but she was certainly single now, had been for months. Last date she’d heard about for him, she didn’t even want to think about. She honestly didn’t care, and the thought of feeling him inside of her, watching as he stroked his cock, rubbing his thumb over the head to smear the pre-cum over and her breath caught, he was so fucking beautiful all over..

“Look at me Sweetheart.”

Her eyes flew up to meet his, and that soft knowing smile on his lips, she’d been caught watching him, her cheeks flaming..

“I want to see your eyes as I feel you for the first time.”

First time, fuck.. The gasped that escaped her had nothing to do with the way he was dragging the head of his cock along her slit and over her clit drawing a soft whimper out of her, and everything to do with the thought of this being the first time and not a one time. Reeling him press into her, as his hips hitched forward, pushing into her warmth, wrapped in her heat, and fuck, the moan that he pulled from her when he was completely inside of her. His hands hooked her thighs around his hips as he rolled them forward so he was flush with hers, skin to skin.

Kaia’s hand that wasn’t still greedily fisted in his hand, she was not giving up those lock dammit, they were all that was keeping her grounded right now, was wrapped around his back as his whole body was pressed against her. His lips claimed hers in a kiss that she swore felt like he was trying to steal the oxygen from her lungs.

Then he started moving.

That first thrust and she had to tear her lips from his, arching under him with the force of the thrust and fucking crying out with the pure pleasure, god, Nick, had always been quiet. Even now he was demanding anything, he wasn’t loud, he wasn’t commanding, but he had her completely enthralled and at his mercy. Each thrust of his hips and she was shuddering in pleasure as, reaching between them, those talented fingers reaching between them for her clit and rubbing,

“You going to cum for me Sweetheart, cum all over my cock like a Good Girl?”

His voice was so soft, so gentle with the request in them, wanting so badly to please him, so badly to please Nick.. How he did that to her she didn’t know. One second she had been on the verge of screaming out in pleasure, and the next she was whimpering and nodding, his brow pressed to hers..

“Yes, yes, I’ll be your Good Girl, please.”

Lips curving in that smile,

“That’s my girl, go on, cum.”

As his fingers rubbed harder at her clit, even if he hadn’t said it, she wasn’t sure she would have been able to hold back anyway, as her thighs started to shake, clenching around his cock, moaning as she fell over the edge, cumming apart as he groaned.. Nick thrust into her a bit harder then, fucking her through it, it, pushing her to the limit, and letting her take her pleasure until he was filling her with his own, fuck, feeling his warmth inside of her was something else.. And she didn’t think she could go back. First time. He’d said, first time.

Lifting her head she brought her lips in a kiss that was a little desperate, she’d admit it.. She wanted this to be the first time, the first of so many to come..

As the kiss broke though, and their bodies stilled, laying there in each other’s arms, hearts racing, breathless wrapped up on a very too small couch for two grown adults..

“What now?”

Kaia has to ask. She’d never dared ventured to any subject close to this before, not with Nick, not about anything that could do with them, but she’d also never dared to sleep with her best friend before, this was a day for firsts, and if she was going to get her heart broken, she wanted it to be done now before she got her hopes up too high.

“Well I know it’s a bit backwards Sweetheart, but maybe we could try dinner, a date might be nice next?”

She shook her head, right, and he was being obtuse, as if going on a date was so simple and going to solve everything.

“Nick! You’ll be going home.. Back to LA.. you have the band.. More tours, more music.. Who knows if you’ll meet other girls…”

The last part came out oh so softly. It was always her fear, always that ache in her heart, that the day would come that he’d meet someone else, someone that he’d sound so smitten by that she’d just know. Kaia would know that she’d lost him. Then again, she worried every time Noah told him he was out on a date, it felt like the bottom of her stomach dropped out. Sometimes she swore Noah knew, with how quiet he got on the other end of the line, but he didn’t say anything, he’d just quickly change the topic and they’d start talking about the latest anime, or game he was playing, music they were listening to, just to distract her a bit until she more herself. She was grateful for that.

Right now, she was pulled from her thoughts of those moments, those girls, but a a press Nick’s lips, his eyes searching hers,

“You’re the only one I’ve ever wanted.”

[delulu4dean]

Written Porn

Warnings: Smut, swearing

Pairings: None

Summary: Dean reads smut, decides to write his own.

Word Count: 1,131

Dean was scrolling on his laptop, making a face. Sam couldn’t tell if it was disgust or annoyance, or perhaps a combination of the two. There was even a bit of frustration in Dean’s breath, as he scrolled through whatever he was scrolling through on his laptop.

“Oh come on!” Dean yells.

“Okay, what is going on?” Sam finally asks, looking at his older brother.

“This bullshit,” Dean turns his laptop to let Sam take a look.

The screen was on some site, filled with writing, mainly fan fictions. And what kind of fan fiction was Dean looking at? Fan fictions based of the book series Supernatural, written by God himself. But it’s not just any fan fiction, no. Do you really think Dean Winchester would read fan fiction without smut? Some of the things Dean was looking at was pure filth. All Dean X Reader. But by the look on his face, Sam could tell he wasn’t enjoying it at all.

“Why are you reading… smut?” Sam asks.

“I was curious, I mean it’s written porn right? But it’s like virgins wrote this shit,” Dean frustratedly turns the laptop back to him, as he continued scrolling.

“As opposed to fans in relationships who’d rather spend their time writing fan fictions instead of spending time with their partners?” Sam asked, sarcasm laced in his voice.

“You know what I mean. There’s some good writing on here, and then you can tell who’s inexperienced and horny. Or writing for a female audience.”

“Well yeah, female fans are writing for female fans. Do you think they expect the Dean Winchester that they know as fictional to read their fan fictions?” Sam rolls his eyes, clearly uninterested in the conversation.

“I’m not saying there’s something wrong with it being female centered, I just want to read something that focuses on both.”

Sam sighs as he realizes he can’t leave the conversation without leaving the room altogether. “Okay, tell me Dean, who would read a Dean slash female reader that isn’t centered around the reader?”

“Me,” Dean responds with a smile.

This time when Sam rolls his eyes, he takes the book he’s reading and goes into his own room, figuring the only way out of this conversation is to go. Dean, on the other hand, gets a fun idea. Well fun to him, but to be real, it’s probably one of the worst ideas he’s had. He’s going to write smut himself.

It’s not that he’d be bad at writing it, as experienced as he is, it would probably come out good. But Dean Winchester would only be able to write pure filth. And that’s what he writes, as he starts typing away on his laptop.

“I want you,” she said. “I want you bad, Dean.”

Dean couldn’t hold it back any longer, he gave into his desires, his lips crashing into hers.

Dean continues typing on his laptop, the sound of his fingertips tap-tap-tapping away filling the room.

Dean’s body hovers over her, one hand holding him up, the other traveling up her thigh, under her skirt. Her skin was soft against his hand. Her hands went to the hem of his shirt, and Dean pulls back, letting her pull it over his head and toss it to the side. Her hands run up and down his chest, fueling his desire. Dean’s hand moves from her thigh, up to the thin fabric between her legs.

Dean’s face is focused as he writes. He knows what he’d like to read, but he wants to make sure it’s good, so he uses all his concentration on this.

His thumb presses a gentle circle through the thin fabric, causing her to moan. Her voice deepens his arousal. She breathes out, “Dean, please, I need you.” And that’s all he needed to hear. He slips off her panties and takes her shirt off, before he takes off his own pants and underwear. He places his tip at her entrance.

“Tell me what you want, sweetheart,” Dean traces her bottom lip with his thumb.

“I want you to fuck me, Dean,” she begs.

With that, he pushes himself in, letting out a soft grunt, feeling her wetness around him. He begins to thrust in and out of her. The room is filled with the sounds of her moans, his grunts, and the bed creaking. He picks up the pace, going harder, losing himself in the feeling on being inside her.

“You take me so well,” he praises her.

Her hands hold his face, pulling him down, kissing him with a hunger. He grips her hips tightly, pounding into her. Her hands fall to her sides as she grips the sheets. She raises her legs, wrapping them around Dean, allowing him to go in deeper. He groans in pleasure in response.

Skin to skin, his hot breath mixing with hers, the passion between them is strong. One of his hands goes between her legs, rubbing her clit. Her moans grow louder and louder as the pleasure builds up in the both of them.

“Fuck, Dean, I’m gonna cum!” she warns.

“Let go, sweetheart.”

And she does. Dean follows soon after, his movements becoming more desperate before releasing himself in her, with a loud groan. His pace slows down as they both come down from their high.

Dean types up his last bit of his writing, and looks at tags. Tags? Are they really necessary? Well others use them, so might as well. Dean adds some, and posts it.

Hey may have gotten too excited during his writing session, which he realizes as he looks down. So he shuts off his laptop and heads to his room.

✰✰✰✰✰

In the morning, Dean seems to have forgotten about his writing from last night. He walks into the kitchen, and makes some coffee. When the coffee is brewed, he pours himself a cup and sits at the table, opening his laptop. As he logs in, he sees a bunch of notification. Likes, comments, praise about his writing.

Sam comes into the bunker from his morning jog and sees Dean with a smug smile on his face. He looks at the laptop and guesses it has to be something about their conversation last night.

“What, did you finally find something good enough to read?” Sam asks, regretting it almost the moment the question came out of his mouth.

“No, but I wrote something, and it seems the female readers like it too,” Dean boasts to his younger brother.

“You’re a narcissist,” Sam teases.

“I am not.”

“You wrote smut about yourself,” Sam raises an eyebrow.

“I’m just letting the fans know what a good sex scene looks like.”

“Yeah, whatever.” Sam makes his way to the kitchen as Dean looks at his laptop happily.

✰✰✰✰✰

Sorry if this sucks, I just thought it would be a funny idea.

[ejzah]

A/N: I swear I was working on this chapter before I got that anon ask today, but it just encouraged me to finish it more quickly.

***

In Miss Blye’s Class, Part 30

Kensi spent the night fuming after she left Deeks’ house. After meeting Monica, she perfectly understood why he’d been so out of sorts. She’d only spent a few minutes with his ex and had to resist the urge to throw something. She could only imagine how difficult it was to deal with her snide comments and manipulation for hours at a time.

She didn’t know what Monica would tell Deeks, if anything, though he’d like wonder where the coffee mysteriously appeared from. Over the course of the evening, she picked up her phone half a dozen times to call or text Deeks, but ultimately decided not to. Deeks had enough on his plate without her adding more drama. She’d just have to hope that Monica didn’t try to paint her in a bad light, and if she did, that Deeks could see through the lies.

When she got to work the next morning, Nell took one look at her face, and immediately got out her stash of chocolate, offering Kensi the meerkat decorated jar. Kensi took three Reese’s and started setting up for the day. She’d been too distracted last night to prep as much as she should have so now she’d have to rush to get things ready before the first bell.

“Ok, spill. You walked in here looking ready for murder,” Nell said, making herself at home in Kensi’s desk chair.

“I went to surprise Deeks with some coffee, but when I got there he wasn’t home. But Monica was,” Kensi explained tightly.

“Oh crap, what happened?”

“Let me see. She said she’d been wanting to meet me, accused me of being jealous, and told me all the things she knows about me and Deeks.” She dropped a wipe off writing page at each spot at one of the round table, then tore the wrapper off a chocolate and shoved it in her mouth. “And then she had the audacity to say she’s just looking out for him,” she ranted, slamming a basket of markers in the middle of the table. “Looking out for him would have been, I don’t know, coming to see her son more than one every year or so. Or maybe not just up and leaving her family.”

Kensi turned around, hands on her hips to face Nell. She was slightly gratified to see Nell’s stunned expression.

“Oh my god, that’s insane. What did Deeks say?” Nell asked.

“I didn’t tell him.”

“Why the hell not?!” Nell shouted, then seemed to remember where they were, and lowered her voice. “He needs to know how crazy this woman is.”

“I’m pretty sure he knows,” Kensi hedged. Nell gave her an unimpressed look. “Fine. I didn’t want to bug him with it. Monica was infuriating and has zero sense of boundaries, but she didn’t actually do anything truly terrible. He’s dealing with enough as it is.”

“He’d still want to know,” Nell insisted.

“You’re probably right. I need to cool down a little more before I make any decision though. Deeks does not need to hear the rant you just did.”

“Yeah, that’s probably for the best.” Reaching into the candy jar, Nell tossed Kensi another piece. “And in the mean time, I could have Eric delete all her online information and presence. He wouldn’t leave a trace,” Nell offered, with a focused, slightly unnerving stare that scared Kensi a little bit. “It’s not obvious and hard to track. ‘Oh, none of your credit cards are working and no one knows who you are? That’s odd.’”

“I don’t think that will be necessary,” Kensi said quickly, and Nell shrugged, checking her watch.

“Well, the offer is always open if you change your mind. I have to go set up watercolor stations. The first graders are making coffee filter fishies today.”

“Cute. Thanks for listening to me rant.”

Nell gave Kensi a hug, adding in an extra squeeze. “Anytime.” When she pulled back, she fixed Kensi with a serious look. “Talk to Deeks.”

“I will.”

Smiling in approval, Nell headed for the door in her usual swirl of skirts.

“Oh, and just to reiterate, that is a complete no on the digital erasing!”

“You’re no fun!” Nell called back from down the hall.

***

“No, that is not a satisfactory offer,” Deeks muttered to himself, setting the proposed contract for a new client aside, and grabbing a pen.

“Deeks, just who I was looking for.”

He didn’t need to look to know that Talia would be leaning halfway through his door.

“Not in the mood today, Talia,” he said shortly.

“Aw, are things not all sunshine and rainbows in Marty and Kensi land?” she asked. Deeks odd look up now, and smiled tightly.

“Our relationship is just fine, thanks for asking. Now, I have like ten contracts to review today, so I could spare your usual charming presence.”

He knew he was being unnecessarily rude, even to Talia, who thrived on getting him to react. His patience was at an all time low after spending increasingly more time in Monica’s company over the week though.

Instead of taking the hint, Talia grabbed a spare chair, dragging it right next to his. She spun it around to sit backwards, resting her forearms on the back.

“Wow, you really are out of sorts. You haven’t been this cranky since you first started, and definitely not since you met the teacher,” she noted, tiling her head to observe him. “Hm, bloodshot eyes, bad mood, doesn’t want to talk…did you have a bad surf?”

Deeks huffed out an irritated laugh. “No.”

“They ran all out of fish tacos at your favorite truck.”

“No. Are you done?”

“Definitely not. I’ll keep going until you either tell me or I guess right.”

Sighing, Deeks pressed his palms over his eyes. He did not have the energy for this. “My ex-wife is back in town after no contact for over a year, and now she seem to be trying to rebuild her relationship with Caleb. So naturally he’s a mess, I’m a mess, and she seems to be having the time of her life.” He finished by blowing out a noisy breath. “Sorry. That was a lot.”

Talia shook her head, looking angry. “Don’t apologize. I’d be mad too. Who does your ex think she is waltzing in and trying to insert herself back into your life?” she demanded.

Deeks turned his head to squint at her, vaguely surprised the intensity of her response. “Wow, I had no idea you felt so strongly about my dysfunctional personal life.”

Talia jabbed a finger at him. “Hey, the only one who gets to torture you, is me. Plus, I find your relationship with the teacher adorable.”

“Wonderful.”

“So where’s she staying? Not with you I hope.”

“Thank god, no,” Deeks said with a shudder. “I honestly don’t know and don’t care. I learned the first time she came back that it’s best to keep as much as a separation as possible. But, she’s been coming over for dinner or visits every couple days.”

“Do you have visitation rights set up?”

“Nah, I have full, uncontested custody. I’m letting the visits happen for as long as Caleb wants them.”

“I hate flighty parents,” Talia said darkly, adding to Deeks’ raised eyebrow. “I had an uncle like that. Give me just five minutes alone with your ex. I’m trained in jiujitsu, karate, taekwondo, and good old knock-down-drag-out fights,” she informed Deeks with a significant nod.

“Good to know. You worry me sometimes,” Deeks commented lightly. “Also, how have you not been arrested before?”

“Hey, there’s a reason I became a lawyer.”

“Lovely. I think I’ll pass on that for now.”

“Suit yourself,” Talia said, slapping her thighs with her palms.

“You know, it actually helped talking to you,” Deeks said, surprising himself by admitting it. “Thanks.”

“Of course. It’s no fun messing with you when you’re already in a bad mood,” she told him. Because of course she couldn’t just take a compliment. “As repayment though, you will be buying me lunch today.”

“I think I can handle that,” Deeks sighed. Talia nodded in approval.

“Oh, and just in case you need an outside perspective, I’m always happy to talk over the legal side of all this,” she added. “Totally on the down low though. I can’t have people thinking I’m friendly.”

“I won’t tell a soul,” Deeks promised, smiling for the first time all morning.

***

A/N: I hope you enjoyed the parallel of Kensi and Deeks each getting advice and a listening ear from a friend. This version of Talia is certainly a lot more helpful and less handsy than in canon or my previous interpretations.

[thevoyageurmoteplass-writing]

Zeph should have realised his task was going to be impossible right from the start. Not because of the stories whispered about Alia Underwood between demons, the horrors told about her as if she were the bogeyman of the damned to keep them in line. It wasn’t even the fact that a greater demon had asked him to do the job because they couldn’t that should have been the giveaway, it happened more often than not. Delegation in the underworld wasn’t unheard of.

But as soon as he’d set eyes on her, he should have simply given up the fight. It wasn’t because she was tiny, that she didn’t look nearly as imposing as the stories suggested. It wasn’t even the fact that despite her small stature she managed a cold look that had some people skirting around her in corridors as if she’d carved out a space all by her personality alone. It was the way his stomach flipped when she’d hidden her affectionate smile for something Freddy had said.

‘You didn’t have to do this,’ she said from her place curled into an armchair. She was wearing one of the shirts he’d tossed into the wardrobe of the house that supposedly belonged to his parents. It was all part of the lie he was living, a precaution he’d taken just in case his story had needed some sort of credibility. The shirt had been a little large on him, but it swamped Alia. The short sleeves grazed her elbows, her feet tucked up beneath the shirt front but didn’t seem to stretch the fabric too much.

‘Freddy would’ve killed me if I let you catch a cold,’ he said. The sudden downpour had caused chaos in the streets. Despite everything he’d grabbed her hand and dragged her through the crowd to the house. He’d been shocked by how fragile her hand felt in his, how his own engulfed hers in a way that reminded him too starkly of just how small she was. How physically unthreatening she was. How to any other demon her size would have been the thing that made them act on that first day without thinking about what else she might have been able to do; as if all the stories, the warnings, were lies.

‘He’d have loved a reason to dote,’ she noted, affectionate irritation in her voice.

‘Another one,’ he corrected, earning an eye roll.

Silence settled between them, one that made Zeph slightly edgy. A peanut allergy. Only in the last day had he learnt about that little fact, the fact that would have been an easy way to get her out of the picture. A way to fulfil his mission without truly having to dirty his hands. And yet he couldn’t help but hold onto that secret, protect it desperately when he next had to explain why she hadn’t yet been dispatched, or why there was no information that might help the greater demon with getting rid of her.

‘What?’ she asked, a slight sharpness to her voice that made Zephaniah realise he must have been staring.

He coughed, tried to ignore how small she looked curled in the large winged back chair. Ignore how it almost seemed prepared to swallow her whole.

‘Do you want tea?’ he asked, offering her a slightly strained smile.

One eyebrow arched ever so slightly, a scrutiny in her gaze that made him sure she had guessed what was going on in his head. Sure that she’d figured out his secret and was toying with him, waiting for him to slip up before she did anything about it.

Before she sent him back without so much as a chance to explain. To tell her the truth of how he hadn’t been able to do any of it because she’d made him fall for her simply by being herself.

‘Yes please,’ she said, a hint of uncertainty in her voice.

Zeph nodded before excusing himself from the room, desperately hoping he could find a way to protect her before she realised the truth. Before it had the chance to shatter the thing that he held dear to him. 

[liketwoswansinbalance]

Hmm...what if Sophie was somehow nominated by the Storian as the new School Master? Imagine her friends and everyone's reaction...

I decided to interpret this from a more comedic angle, so hopefully you won't mind.

⸻

Hark and gird your loins, Woods!

Subscribe to follow the ascension of the (in)famous Witch of Woods Beyond, newly appointed School Master by the Pen.

Upon being named, nay, crowned, (She insisted on holding the coronation of the century, with grandeur that would dwell in the minds of the Woods' citizens for an epoch or longer!) the School Master seemed euphoric.

The Royal Rot was said to have gotten wind of a rather candid, positively scandalous moment however. They say: anonymous sources tell us that the lady of the hour hoisted up an urn which apparently held the previous School Master's ashes, and tossed it whole into the Savage Sea, crying out: "Take that, Rafal! I won and I can rule these Schools perfectly well without you!"

Allegedly, an errant bolt of black lightning tore through the clouds and nearly struck the newly crowned School Master where she stood. Whether it should've been taken as an asassination attempt or a warning... no one can say.

Then, she spun on her dyed, glass stilettos, and without acknowledging the masses gathered, she flounced away from shore, numerous skirts and a sand-speckled, ermine-lined, coronation train in tow, claiming that "Rafal would pay for the dry cleaning from his grave," and that her next order of business was to "claim to be his widow and extort riches from his Putsi accounts." So, it's safe to say, she's landed herself a prime spot in Vulture Vale's next issue of Extortionists Extraordinaire, a magazine exclusively marketed toward Nevers.

⸻

Everyone else was flabbergasted by the outburst, however cathartic it seemed to be for her.

⸻

The King and Queen of Camelot are abstaining from commenting at this time, but eyewitnesses say the King was rather shaken, and that Her Majesty was equally bewildered by the news. The head of their staff purports that the two gaped like goldfish and appeared to be at a loss for words.

⸻

Later on, a reporter documented a chance encounter with His Majesty alone:

Tedros swivels his head around to make sure he’s in the clear and away from Agatha.

“Knowing my queen, I’d say that we’re probably bound to visit the Schools in a few days’ time. She—we just need time to... process. And, don’t tell either of the girls I said this, but I think neuroticism runs in the blood... Can’t complain like a git though since Agatha’s saved my life several times over."

"A trip to the Schools is in order, Tedros! Pack before the maids invade our chambers!" Agatha shouts from another room.

Tedros grinned smugly at the reporter. "I told you so. She's predictable, like clockwork by this point."

⸻

The School Master's classmates were especially eager to commentate on her appointment:

Hester: The uniforms had better stay black.

Anadil: Agreed.

Dot: I wouldn't mind a change, actually.

[The other two witches glare at her.]

⸻

If you want to hear any other characters' reactions, feel free to comment below.

⸻

Also, I’m currently in the process of writing a fic called The One True School Master of Vault 41, in which Rafal is resurrected and Sophie is a candidate for his old position, and so, she's a bit like a usurper to him.

The other usurper, Japeth, has also ruffled Rafal's feathers since Rafal's been back because Rafal thinks some Snake isn't worthy of the figurative #1 Villain trophy. Japeth doesn't care about the figurative "trophy" though, so that competition is technically nonexistent.

[satinelibra]

When most everyone left the offices and Mr. Doherty pulled her into his office, there was no work to do.  It would be nothing like last time.  He grabbed her, slamming his lips to hers, kissing her for the first time.

She whimpered and tried to push him off, but he just wrapped his arms around her and manhandled her against his desk, feeling her body over her clothes.  When he pulled away from her lips, she pushed her fists into his chest and pushed him off as much as she could.  “Stop!  I don’t want to do this!”

He chuckled, “You don’t have a choice.  You don’t want me to fire your dad, do you?”

“Well, if you do, I’ll go to the police,” she whimpered.

He growled at her, slamming her back against the top of his desk.  He laughed darkly, “Like they would believe you were telling the truth.  They’d think it was a scheme you and your father came up with to get back at me for dismissing him.”

She tried to school her features, and hide her fear.

“I could also frame him for embezzlement,” he added maliciously.  “Then he’d go to prison, and never get another job again.  Unless…”

She swallowed the lump in her throat, but couldn’t respond before he was on her again.  He reached into the collar of her blouse and literally ripped it apart, revealing her bra-clad breasts as she squirmed in his hold.

“You are mine,” he snarled at her, pulling off her shirt and bra and tossing them onto the floor without care.  He clamped his hands around her breasts and squeezed them, “These are mine.”  He yanked her up so she was sitting and latched his lips over her nipples before pushing her back down.

“Just lie there and take it,” he growled as he shoved her skirt up and skimmed his fingers through her folds after licking them.  He shoved them inside her until she was pouring over his hand, and then he plunged his cock into her.

She yelped at the suddenness of all his actions, arching her chin up so she was looking behind her, anywhere but him.  Her body jostled back and forth on the desk.  She could feel her breasts jiggling up and down.  She could hear him groaning and muttering filthy things above her while he manhandled her legs apart.

“Moan for me,” he barked behind her.

She couldn’t deny the legitimacy of her moans as she let them out.  “Uh, uh, ah, ah, oh!”

He grunted behind her, chuckling at her noises.  “Knew you would love cock in your cunt.  Knew you would be such a good fucking slut.”

After he finished his sentence, he roughly yanked out of her and pushed her to fully bend over the desk.  She heard fabric hit the floor and then he was propping his foot on the desk and plunging back into her.  He yanked the clip out of her hair, letting it cascade down her shoulders and back as he fucked her into the desk.

“So fucking tight on my dick,” he cursed.  “You have the perfect cunt for fucking.”

She mewled as he wrapped his hands in her hair and pulled her head back, pounding into her with animal-like grunts.

When she came – against her desires – she did it silently.  She knew he was still aware of it, as her pussy collapsed in on his cock as he fucked her.  But at least she didn’t make a noise other than some muffled whining.

When he came, he slammed into her and shot off ropes of sticky cum deep into her.  He groaned as he continued cumming in her as he slid his cock out until just the tip was splattering semen into her hole.

She let tears fall out of her eyes, sniffling as his limp cock fell out of her pussy and he pulled away from. 

“Get cleaned up and get dressed.  I’m calling you a car to take you home tonight.  I’ve got plans.”

[marciabrady]

The Signs as Moments from Cinderella (1950) ARIES: Lucifer skirting Gus's attempt to beeline to Cinderella's room with the key to her escape by trapping him under a teacup and laughing gleefully. Petty! TAURUS: The Fairy Godmother zaps Lucifer with her magic, chasing him away. Cinderella remarks, "Poor Lucifer," only for the Fairy Godmother to clapback: "Serves him right, I'd say." GEMINI: Lady Tremaine reprimanding her WILD daughters, preaching: "Remember, above all, self-control," before hearing Cinderella knock on the door and subsequently slamming the piano keys with full force and no chill. "YES?!" CANCER: Anastasia frantically calling for her mother and running about in the hallway, bare-foot, in her magenta nightdress after finding a harmless mouse in her teacup. "Mothah, mothah- MOTHAHHH!!!" LEO: Cinderella making Lady Tremaine fall back by pulling a reverse uno and revealing her glass slipper, which she kept as a secret until that moment. Sometimes you have to be the drama. VIRGO: The exasperation Lady Tremaine feels when plainly explaining the King's plot to trap his son into marriage with the girl who fits the slipper and Drizella and Anastasia, half-asleep, still aren't following...after Lady Tremaine, at her age, woke up hours before they did, traveled to the castle gates to read the notice, and got all the tea from the neighbors. She's of half a mind to smack them upside the night-cap with the broken crockery Cinderella just dropped. LIBRA: When Cinderella tells Bruno that everyone should try to get along and see the good in each other, but she fails to find a redeeming quality about Lucifer. Oop! SCORPIO: The way Cinderella had the entire kingdom in a chokehold without even trying and everyone's eyes were on her, but seconds later she vanished into thin air and they weren't even sure what her name was, how to find her, or which kingdom she came from. The Grand Duke was sputtering: "Mademoiselle! Senorita!" because he didn't even know which language she spoke. SAGITTARIUS: Jaq and Gus going toes with Lucifer for the left-over, tossed away items the Stepsisters are no longer interested in for pieces they can incorporate into Cinderella's party dress. Well-meaning, but honestly, what were they thinking??? But, also, THEY DID THAT. CAPRICORN: The absolutely chaotic energy the Stepsisters have when trying on the glass slipper, knowing it doesn't belong to them. Anastasia claiming the slipper must've shrunk because she spent all night dancing in it and glass shoes aren't built to last. Drizella feigning an old-money accent when seeing the shoe that she's never worn a day in her sorry life: "Why that's my slip-per!" AQUARIUS: Prince Charming refusing to date anyone seriously, to the point where the King has to throw a ball in his honor, announce and plan it the day of, and literally bring every single woman in the kingdom for the slightest chance it'll lead to something. PISCES: Lucifer, hearing Cinderella's voice beckoning him to wake up, but choosing to stay in his ribbon-encrusted kitty bed instead. When he finally does choose to come, he takes his sweet time getting over, making sure to stretch and aggressively yawn.

[creativepawsworld]

Everything But You - Part 6

Pairing = Cillian Murphy x OC

Summary = Things take a wrong turn when Andrew shows up at the next The Sons of Mr Green Genes Concert. 

Warnings = Language, Grammar, 90s Cillian, Insults? 

Word Count = 1852

It had been two weeks since Cillian and I had sex at the dance studio and things were definitely different this time. He was calling more, wanting to hang out with just the two of us. I honestly felt myself falling for him.

Brushing off the lint from my black skirt, I checked my appearance three more times in the mirror before getting a taxi and arriving at the Black Duck bar, where Cillian's band was performing tonight.

My eyes instantly fell on Billy who was standing outside having a smoke, jumping from foot to foot as the cold December air nipped at his bare arms.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, feeling the cold against my skin. I forewent a coat to maintain my sexy, rocker chick look. I felt like a coat ruined the illusion, style overcame substance tonight.

"Marion bailed and I wasn't going out alone I am not that desperate." He scoffed with a slight roll of his eyes, wrinkles creasing at the sides of his lips as he inhaled deeply on the white cigarette.

"Besides I heard young blue eyes is playing tonight." He wriggled his eyebrows at me.

"He is. That is true." I blushed, tucking my hair behind my ear.

"What's going on with you two hm?" He questioned, a cheeky grin spreading across his face once he noticed my reddened cheeks.

"I really like him Bil…"

"Tell me something I don't know." Billy rolled his eyes, putting the ends of his cigarette out against the pebble-dashed wall before tossing the remains down a drain. "Come on let's get inside before we turn into ice cubes."

Walking arm in arm, we pushed our way through the crowd, Aoife was sitting at a table with one of Andrew's friends, Calvin. I instantly felt bile rise in my throat at the thought of him being in the same bar as both myself and Cillian but mostly because I would have to see him again.

"Don't look so scared, he isn't here. I don't believe so anyway." Billy spoke in my ear. Without realising it, I had pulled him to a stop at the sight of the taller man at the table but hearing his words I felt relief wash over me.

"Effs, been getting rather close to this doctor hunk."

"I can see that." I nodded, walking next to him, and approaching the table with a smile, which Calvin returned.

"Cillian was here. He was looking for you. Wanted to talk about something but wouldn't say what." Aoife acknowledged my presence with a smile. "I think someone is smitten." She winked, wrapping her pink lips around the tiny red straw in her drink.

Glancing over at Calvin, he was watching the conversation with an indifferent look on his face before allowing a smile to take over.

"Don't worry I won't say anything to Drew." He chuckled with a shake of his head. "He didn't deserve you."

"Oh okay, thanks." I nodded bringing the drink Aoife had slid over to me into my hands and up to my mouth, sipping through the straw my eyes wandered throughout the crowd for a certain blue-eyed musician but he was nowhere to be found.

Being late to the party, I was in charge of getting the next round of drinks, I didn't mind as it allowed me to scan the crowd a bit better.  My heart sank when I noticed a familiar blond sitting at the bar nursing a pint of Harp in his hands.  

Rolling my eyes, I turned my back on him completely hoping the bartender would serve me in record time so I could escape back to my table without dealing with him.   But it appeared luck wasn't on my side.

"Brianna, fancy seeing you here." Andrew's voice entered my ear. I felt his hand slide across my lower back from behind before he stood in front of me, pint half drunk.

"What do you want Andrew? You don't even like bars like this."

"No but I wanted to see you and I knew you would be following that loser from the band around like a lost puppy." He laughed darkly, the smell of alcohol ripe on his breath, looking into his eyes I noticed his pupils were slightly dilated, he had a lot more than that pint to drink.

"The only loser I see around here is you" I spat back, turning to glare at the bartender who had once again skipped over me to serve another.

"Don't be like that Brie, come on you and I had a good few years let's not throw it away over some wannabe musician." Andrew's words were slightly slurred.

His hand came up to place some hair behind my ear, and the back of his fingers stroked against my cheek, working their way down towards my jaw before I pulled away.

"We are done Andrew get that through your head."

  *****

Returning to the table, I placed the drinks down just as The Sons of Mr Green Genes got on stage to perform.

Cillian took centre stage. He looked gorgeous tonight in his tight-fitted black t-shirt that clung to his smaller frame. Throwing the strap of his guitar around his neck, he adjusted the microphone to his lips, it was then I noticed the annoyed scowl on his face.

"Someone upset Mr Blue Eyes this evening." Billy mused, eyebrows raised so high they were practically touching his hairline.

Glancing over at him, I squinted my eyes and shook my head in confusion, silently asking him what he was talking about as the band started to play the song -Time Travel.

"He saw you talking to Andrew before he went on stage." Aoife sighed, a sympathetic smile on her face as she placed her now empty glass onto the bar tray, taking her new drink in its place. "I think he believes you invited him."

"I didn't!" I defended myself immediately.  "Why is he even here? You said you wouldn't say anything about me being here." I pointed at Calvin who had held his hands up in defence.

"I haven't said a thing. He has been following you for weeks, showing up at this band's gigs across the country just to see you."

"What?" Aoife screeched, jumping out of her seat to stand next to me, a concerned look on her face as she stared down at her date for the evening. "Why did you say anything?"

"He's harmless." Calvin brushed it off.

"They are always harmless until they aint." Billy scowled throwing one of his dirtiest looks at the buffer gentleman sitting across from him.

"That's disturbing. What a creep." Aoife scoffed, throwing a look of disgust over her shoulder but Andrew was gone. Where? I wasn't sure but he was out of my sight.

Wrapping my arms around myself, I tried to ignore what had happened focusing all my attention on Cillian who was once again so lost in his music, he looked like he was in a complete trance. I felt my heart beating in my chest, as I thought about our last few encounters and we were certainly overdue for another.

Losing myself to the music, I swayed in time, Billy joining next to me for a few before returning to his seat. Cillian avoided eye contact with me the entire set, his brother Paidi waved to me a few times before the beginning of each song, and even nudged Cillian, nodding in my direction but still he refused.

Feeling deflated, I returned to the table, taking a large mouthful of my drink when Emer appeared at our table, dressed in a red dress two sizes too small. Her chest was straining against the bust, one wrong move and she would be flashing.

"Jesus." Billy choked on his drink. The liquid coming out of his mouth hit Calvin like a spray.

"You alright?"  I asked, patting him on the back, his eyes turned red from the lack of oxygen, and the drink was running down his nose as he gasp loudly. Handing him a white napkin he patted himself down.

"She nearly fucking killed me." He wheezed pointing at Emer, who stood innocently at the end of the table. A doe-eyed look in her eyes as she watched Cillian on stage, completely obvious to what was happening around her.

"Emer? What are you doing here?" I asked, ignoring Billy's over-the-top dramatics, another male in my life that would excel in the art of acting.

"Oh Cillian invited me, between us I think he is into me but he is trying to play it cool." She giggled and for the first time tonight, Cillian looked in our direction sending a wink.

Biting back a growl, I felt a pang of jealousy in my heart as Emer jumped up and down on her feet, clapping her hands together frantically as the band finished their set.

"You okay?" Billy asked, sliding next to me, and wrapping a protective arm around my shoulders.

"I'm done. I'm so fucking done." I growled, throwing myself back into my seat, and crossing my arms over my chest.

I didn't want to put a sour note on the night, Emer had disappeared into the crowd no doubt going to find Cillian after his set and I was determined to enjoy myself.

I was not going to let Cillian fucking Murphy get to me anymore.

  *****

  Yelling loudly, Billy and I both giggled as we jiggled on our feet, fighting off the taste of yet another shot of tequila. Aoife and Calvin had disappeared into the night after the band's set finished, no question what it was they disappeared to get up to.

"FUCK THE MEN." Billy cackled loudly, slamming the now empty glass on the table. Throwing his hands in the air and dancing to the music in his head.

"Enjoying your night?" I heard that Irish brogue that if I had been sober, would have had me weak at the knees. Turning around to face him, he stood behind me with his hands inside his jeans pockets, an unreadable expression on his face.

"I am. Where's Emer? Get bored of you already?" I asked with a hint of venom. I heard Billy behind me creating loud cat noises. I could just see him in my head, scratching the air with his claws.

"Toilet," Cillian answered flatly.

"Great," I replied with a small shake of my head as an awkward silence fell over us. "What do you want?" I asked breaking it.

"Where's your boyfriend?"

"Don't have one."

"I saw you with Andrew earlier Brianna, seemed pretty cosy."

"What does it matter to you?" I snapped, stepping into his space but he only shrugged his shoulders in response.

"The man is stalking her blue eyes," Billy answered his question for me. "She came here for you but you chose the blonde who wears her little sister's barbie doll dress out in public so FUCK YOU."

"Yeah FUCK YOU" I laughed joining Billy as we held up our middle fingers. "This is your loss, Murphy."

*****

Anyone interested in the bands song I found it on YouTube - Time Travel it’s rather a bop if I do say so myself. 

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