#and yes. There is some ocs I did or did not show so i must focus on that.

[cr1ms0n4nd-ac3]

Class of 14:

Basically an Class of 09 AU spinoff and also based on my ST OC's past and present.

[charliemwrites]

Okay so the poll results were for an OC captain, though it was close enough that I still hesitate to name him in the canon of the fic.

I’m also going to be taking my time fleshing out his character because it’s been a while since I made an OC. So please be patient while I add tidbits here and there to build his character.

Content: safe/sane/consensual sex, descriptions of scars, mentions of past torture

Nikto beats you and Nova twice out of three rounds — but that’s no surprise. The man moves like a machine. Even against two opponents he controls the battlefield like a chess master. Neither you nor Nova take it to heart, especially since he always gives you both advice at the end, helping you to improve.

He’s a great partner, a great teammate; you’re sure to show him your appreciation after sparring with a kiss to his nose-plate. His hands spasm on yours as he helps you unwind your wraps, gloved thumb sweeping over your bare palm.

“You did good today,” he says, voice rough and accent thick. He must be pissed about earlier still, when Ghost and Soap threw your matches with them.

“So did you,” you reply, squeezing his hand in return.

“Stay with me tonight?” He asks.

You damn near melt. Nikto has an open invitation to your room, but his is a sacred place, only for him unless otherwise specified. That he’s asking you to come to his tonight…

“Absolutely,” you reply, squeezing his hand. “I just need to see the captain first. Okay?”

He grunts in understanding, eyes flicking to the door the 141 left through earlier. He mutters something in Russian — some insult about goats and mothers you think.

“Yeah, exactly,” you reply, voice dropping with simmering irritation.

A good spar with him and Nova has helped ground you a bit, but it hasn’t helped the anger. You don’t spar any of your team with anger; they don’t deserve.

Luckily, you and your captain worked something out a while ago when you’re feeling a bit… aggressive.

“Cap?” You call, still holding Nikto’s hand. “Could I stop by for a nightcap later?”

His eyes flash, a sinful twist to the corner of his mouth. “Yeah, babygirl. I’ll leave the door unlocked.”

Over his shoulder, you see Nova arch her eyebrows and Keegan grin wicked into his water bottle. Gossip fiends.

“Showers. Now,” the cap says, slapping them both on the ass. “Double time. I need to have a word with Price still.”

—

Long after the sun has gone down, you’re standing outside your captain’s door. Take a breath. Remind yourself of your mantra. He wants you, always will, and he’s going to take care of you.

Then loosen your shoulders, unboxing all the frustration and aggression you set aside earlier. Feel it burn through you, make your hands twitch in and out of fists.

One more inhale, and then you shove the door open.

“There you are,” he rumbles. “C’mere.”

You flash your teeth, “No.”

He tilts head back and forth, cracking his neck. “Alright then.”

There’s no real fight. You’re not looking to get away or actually hurt him. And he’s not looking to actually make you submit. That’s not the point of this game.

He strides across the room and shoves you back, pins your shoulder to the wall. You grip at his forearm, nails scraping, and squirming as the hot, hard length of his body squishes you flat.

“Settle,” he orders.

“Fuck you,” you snarl back, nipping his lip.

He growls, tangling a hand in your hair and tipping your head back. Leaves a searing trail of kisses down your throat, bites a bruise into your collarbone. You wriggle and fuss all the while, safely held still and supported by his hands and body.

“Brat,” he rasps in your ear.

“I’m not,” you snap.

“Oh, yes you are, babygirl,” he replies, a mean smirk on his flushed face. “But that’s alright, I like you bad.”

He pulls you from the wall, bullies you onto the bed. You try to grab at him, get him under you. He doesn’t indulge like he normally would. Pins you on your back so that you can keep fighting, yanking at your wrists in his firm grip, pushing your hips up to grind into his as if trying to flip you both.

He slots his hips between your thighs, positions just his knees under your ass so that your back is arched, shoulders on the mattress. Limits your mobility, but that doesn’t stop you from kicking at air, making half-angry, half-desperate noises in the back of your throat.

“Gonna say please like a good girl?” He teases.

“No,” you hiss back.

He has the audacity to chuckle, which just riles you up more. (It’s supposed to). You curse as he works a hand beneath your shirt, palms at your bare breasts and pinches your nipples until they ache. You gasp like a pornstar, surprised and turned on.

“Pretty noise,” he coos. “Do it again.”

When he twists, you mewl, face immediately burning up as you renew your “efforts” to get away. All it does is make the treatment rougher than if you just laid still and took it, but that’s what you want, what feels good. A little edge to the pleasure as adrenaline and energy electrify you from head to toe.

He grinds against you, cotton of your loose shorts sticking against your soaked cunt. Christ you were turned on before you even barged in. Now you’re fucking throbbing for it.

“Gimme,” you grit out, rocking against him. Gears successfully shifted from physically taking control to just ordering him around.

“Give you what, brat?” He goads, slapping your pussy. The thin fabric muffles the sting, but it sends a white-hot ache through you that makes your eyes roll. “My cock? You think you deserve it?”

Another slap. You cry out, notice the sly look on his face when he notices that you’ve soaked through your shorts.

“Yes,” you reply, all confidence and reckless arrogance.

He yanks his underwear down to mid thigh, thick cock springing up to smack lewdly against his toned stomach. Precum smears over the pale scars there, sticks in the trail of groomed hair there.

“Yeah?” He growls. “Alright then.”

He yanks the crotch of your shorts aside (you hear stitches pop) and then he’s plunging into you. It’s too much all at once and you cry as much, knees squeezing around his tattooed ribs.

“Fuck.” His voice is shredded, so rough and low you feel it more than hear it. He lets your wrists go to grip at your ass, grinding deeper. Can feel the fat head of his cock bullying at your cervix, his favorite passtime while you adjust to the thick base of him.

“How does that feel, babygirl?” He murmurs in your ear. “You needed daddy’s cock, huh? Needed it to set you right again?”

You whimper out a curse at him, gripping at his biceps. He croons mockingly, thumb slipping between your bodies to press at your clit. Not rubbing or grinding, but just pressing. Just the right amount to make you sweat and pant, start trying to squirm to get any friction at all.

He lets you — could stop you if he wanted, or pull away entirely — but he likes winding you up like this. Likes seeing all that vicious energy turned to seeking pleasure from him.

“Fucking move,” you try to snarl, but your voice breaks midway through and comes out more pleading than you’d like.

“What was that, babydoll? Are you talking to me?” He teases, rolling his hips.

Your mouth falls open, a moan ripping from your chest, deep and needy.

“Daddy, move,” you cry, voice going up in pitch.

“There’s my brat.”

He pushes one of your knees up against your chest and slams into you. You scream and he doesn’t even try to cover your mouth, whispering filth as he tilts your hips for the best angle with his other hand. Fucks into you deep and rough, grinning at the obscenely wet noises every time he plunges into you.

Can practically feel him fucking your cervix open to get just that little bit deeper. Licks his lips when he sees the little bump in your stomach. You give as good as you get, squeezing down tight, bouncing to meet him, nails scoring lines down his back and shoulders.

“Gonna ask daddy to make you cum?” He goads.

“Earn it,” you reply.

He laughs and pulls out, flips you onto your stomach while you’re still dizzy with emptiness. Hikes your hips up and sinks into you like coming home. Your knees almost give out but that’s fine by him, he’s plenty strong enough to hold you up all on his own, using you like a noisy little toy for his own benefit.

“Fuuuuck,” you whine, feeling overwhelmed, pleasured tears gathering in your eyes. Then, in a whisper, “Daddy…”

“Feel like being good yet?” He asks. A large, rough hand circles that back of your neck and pins you face down to the mattress.

“N-no,” you whine, fight gone out of you now that you’re getting exactly what you want.

Fuck it feels so, so good. Every inch bullying you wide open and loose, so wet you’re dripping down your own thighs, wetting his ball as they slap against you. You feel split open and pinned, unable to do anything but take it, tortured stupid on ecstasy. He licks a stripe up your back before pressing you down prone, ankles locked around yours to keep you open and accessible.

“S’alright, doll, don’t need to be good to be mine.”

He’s barely pulling out halfway before ramming home now. You can barely get a breath in, the weight of him pressing whatever resistance was left right out of you.

“Daddy, daddy,” you sob. “Fuck, I wan’ it.”

“Want it, huh?”

“Mhmm,” you moan, pressing your face into your arms. Cant your hips just that little bit to get him abusing that bundle of nerves.

“Oh, right there, huh?” He coos. “Did daddy find your little sweet spot?”

A series of short, ruthless thrusts right there, making incoherent, desperate noises fall from your mouth. Before you realize it, he’s wedged a hand beneath your hips and has two fingers toying with your poor, neglected clit.

“‘M gonna… f-fuck, fuck,” you whine, writhing (or at least trying to) against him. Not sure if you’re trying to urge him on or get away. Doesn’t matter, he’s in charge, has been since the beginning. “Daddy, I wanna…”

“Whenever you want, babygirl,” he replies, voice going all warm and gooey. Your chest hitches. “Squeeze around me nice and tight. Let me feel you cum on my cock.”

Didn’t realize that was what you needed, but you fucking scream as you clench down around him, stars bursting behind your closed eyes. He fucks you through it, tapping against your g-spot again and again until you dissolve into a weak, wet whimpers.

“Daddyyyy,” you whine.

And that sets him off, flooding you with heat. He loses control for a second as his hips jerk, pounding brutally into your oversensitive, swollen pussy. Makes a few tears finally slip down, soaking into the sheets along with your drool. The sound of him groaning as he cums makes you spasm around him again, a little aftershock that milks the last of his release.

“That’s it, easy,” he groans, brushing kisses over your trembling shoulders. “Easy, doll.”

He lies over you for a few minutes, letting you feel him there. Right there with you. Breathing and recovering, holding you through the endorphin rush. When you squirm a bit, he eases off you, cock slipping out. You shiver at the feeling of his cum trickling out of you, glassy eyes fluttering.

“C’mere,” he soothes, tugging you in. Lying on his side, he hitches one of your thighs up over his hip, tucks your arms between your chests and rests his stubbly chin on your temple. You splay your fingers over his peck, over the bold, dark symbol for SpecGru. Feel his heart settling back into rhythm and sigh, snuggling in.

The hormone drop is a monster on your emotions, often leaves you shivery and lonely, a little sick in your own body. First time you did this with him ended in tears, expecting him to get up and leave. He didn’t, never has, but you both learned that as much physical contact as possible in the aftermath eases the comedown away from a total crash.

“You did so well, babygirl,” he whispers, leaving kisses everywhere he can reach without dislodging you. “Such a good girl. Even if you think you’re being bad.”

You flush, hide your face against his neck. He chuckles, honeybalm on your soul. Can feel his hand start to move, then pause as he remembers that you can’t handle that stimulation right after sex. So he just squeezes, slow and gentle, helps get you back in your body.

“I still want you,” he assures, echoing your mantra back at you. “Always will. You’re mine.”

You outline a heart shape onto his forearm, not quite able to speak yet. He recognize the feeling though and gently guides your face up to place a slow, gentle kiss to your lips.

“Love you, too, babygirl. Ready to clean up?”

You nod. He eases you up, lets you cling onto his hand as he walks you to the en suite. Fills you a glass of cool water to sip on while he gets the shower running. Turns his back while you use the restroom and wash your hands, then guides you into the hot water.

You lean into him, near boneless, as he washes you, calloused palms with soap instead of a cloth. Then sits still, hands on your hips, while you return the favor. This part is one of the most important for you, getting to freely return touch.

(Simon hardly ever let you touch, especially in the aftermath. Sure, you could scratch and grip at him during sex, but during foreplay it was all part of his dom persona that you couldn’t just touch at will. And afterwards… well. It’s not like he didn’t do aftercare. He did! But the almost formulaic warm cloth wipe down, glass of water, doze for a bit before he left was not… not ideal. Not like this.)

Your captain hums, eyes half-lidded but trained on you, while you smooth your palms over the firms planes of his muscles. Fingers tracing over tattoos and scars. Squishing and patting at the healthy layer of tissue over his stomach and thighs. Lets you nuzzle and kiss his soft cock, even though it makes his fingers twitch with oversensitivity.

Squeezes when you lace fingers together to stretch his arm out, inspecting the lines your nails carved into him.

“M’okay, baby,” he says before you can ask. “Feels good.”

You similarly assure him over the bruises on your wrists and hips, smiling and leaning up to kiss his jaw.

When the shower is over, he dries you off, playfully ruffling your hair just to kiss the pout off your lips. He dresses you in one of his shirts and a spare pair of your own joggers, found in his duffel.

You sit with him for a while longer still, enjoying how he lets himself relax once he knows you’re taken care of. He lies with his head on your chest, your fingers fluffing his hair, while the two of you watch an episode of some stupid show Keegan got the rest of the team into.

Only when it’s over does he ask if you’re ready to go to Nikto’s. If you wanted to stay, you could. Nikto would understand. But you’re looking forward to a night with your quiet Russian while the other three have a little movie night.

At the door, you kiss your captain goodnight. Hug and kiss Keegan and Nova as you pass them in the hall headed to his room. Nova makes a point of kissing one of the bruises on your wrist, while Keegan whispers that he loves you.

You pad to the first door in the hall, where Nikto has stationed himself as the team guard dog. You tap gently at the door, a pre-determined pattern to let him know who it is.

The door cracks open, one startling blue eye peering from the darkness.

“Evening, Nik,” you coo.

A hand reaches out and gently yanks you inside. And then next thing you know, you’re wrapped up in thick arms devoid of any usual covering. You feel smothered, in a good way.

“Love,” he rasps in Russian into your hair.

You hum in return. Place your palms flat on his abdomen. The muscles clench, you pause as you realize his abs, impressive as they are, feel too defined. He needs water. Taking mental note, you draw your hands carefully around, feeling the raised bumps of wicked scars. Make sure he can track exactly where and how you’re touching until your arms are wrapped around him in a return hug.

“Smell good,” he murmurs.

“Yeah?” You giggle. “Showered just for you.”

He snorts, then scoops you up. You make a delighted noise, wrapping your arms around his neck as he carries you across the room. Of course his navigation is impeccable, even in pitch black. He lays you down on the bed, but before he can crawl up with you, you place a hand on his shoulder.

“You’re dehydrated.”

He makes an annoyed noise, sounds like he’s about to protest. You shush him with a quick peck to his chest.

“Get a glass please? I could use some water myself.”

Which has him instantly moving. You politely turn away as the bathroom light flicks on, the water runs. Can hear him chug two entire glasses before he fills it one final time. The light turns off again. The bed dips as he returns, presses the cool edge gently to your cheek.

“Thank you,” you murmur, sipping about a quarter of it to appease him before he sets aside for you on a bedside table.

And then he gets what he really wants, stripping you down and tucking you in like a nesting bird. Practically on top of you while you’re still reeling from how much skin you can feel. Even during intimacy, he tends to stay clothed or mostly clothed. But right now all you can feel is a pair of underwear against your bare ass. Everywhere else it’s miles of warm skin, uncovered muscle and texture of scars.

“This is nice,” you coo. “Can I kiss you?”

“Yes.”

You wiggle around until you’re chest to chest. Start with his hands. Kiss each smooth fingertip, prints flayed off. Then his palms, the divots from nails driving through. Flip them over to kiss his scarred knuckles, smile at the way he twitches, flexing them outward like he’s trying not to close his hand.

“Okay?” You ask.

“Yes.”

You kiss his wrists, his forearms, to his collarbone. You’ve peeked a blue-black tattoo there before. Stars and the start of something that might be religious. Spend a little extra time there, tongue peeking out. He shifts; you take it as a sign of discomfort and move on.

“Here next,” he says when you dip to go to his chest.

He guides your face up his neck, where you press long (but chaste) kisses until you bump his jaw. And realize that’s all skin too.

“Oh,” you breathe. “Can I…?”

“Yes.”

You feather your lips along his fresh-shaved jaw, the nicked scars on his chin. Then up, ignoring the wicked scar along his cheek. Breathe against his temple, feeling dizzy with the trust he’s showing you.

“I love you,” you whisper, continuing along to his nose, twice broken and poorly set each time. A line over one nostril where a piercing was ripped out. He makes a noise in his throat, think he might be having trouble speaking again. Don’t mind.

He lets you get down to his mouth, where a particularly twisted scar warps part of his upper lip away from his teeth. You think that if you saw it in the light, his canine would be visible. His lower lip is uneven too, like a misaligned seam.

You don’t pay any special attention to any of it, focused more on reacquainting yourself with how your mouth fits with his. He doesn’t lead, doesn’t rush or pull or press. But there’s tension all along his body, everywhere you touch. You don’t ask for more than a chaste kiss, and when you pull away, you tilt your forehead gently against his.

“Still okay?” You ask.

“Still okay.”

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Masterlist

[chahnniesroom]

to have and to hold

pairing: bang chan x female reader

summary: you don't think there's anything chan can do to make you love him more. chan continues to prove you wrong.

word count: 1.4k

warnings: mentions of pregnancy, lots of fluff!!

a/n: sorry it has been so long since i posted! i have been wanting to write this since that ep of return of superman where chan and felix took care of rowoon, it was so so sweet. also i'm so sorry but i did not edit this at all

till death do us part collection | read it on ao3 | masterlist

“Do you think you’d ever want to have kids?” 

Your question breaks through the quiet dialogue of the show that you and Chan are watching. Behind you, you feel Chan freeze before he forces himself to relax and continue fiddling with your fingers.

Chan hesitates for a moment longer before answering.

“I don’t know,” he says, slowly and carefully. “I think that I’d want to eventually, but right now? Being an idol- It would be difficult. I mean, for anyone it’s hard, but especially with this career…”

“Do you like children?” you ask, curious even though you can anticipate his answer.

“Yes.” This time he replies immediately, although his voice is still cautious. He releases your hands from his hold and gently nudges your shoulders so that you twist to look at him. “Y/n- Do- Are you-”

“What?” you stare at him, not sure why he suddenly seems so worried.

“Are you pregnant?” he asks gently. “It’s fine if you are! We can totally work things out and I will 100% support you the whole time-”

“Oh!” You smack yourself in the forehead. “No! Definitely not! I was just thinking.” 

“Ah.” Chan slumps against the back of the couch, this time he’s actually relaxed. “Just thinking or- what brought this on?”

“I’m sorry,” you say hurriedly. “That must have been out of nowhere for you. No, it’s because my older sister’s wedding anniversary is coming up, the first one since she’s had a kid, so I wanted to let her go out without having to worry. I was wondering if you wanted to help me babysit?”

“I see,” Chan says, sounding relieved. “Your sister. Yes, I haven’t met Doyun yet, right? I’d love to help you take care of him.”

—

Your sister is delighted that you’ve offered to take Doyun for an evening and you quickly coordinate with Chan what day would work best. It’s not possible to babysit on your sister’s actual anniversary due to Chan’s schedules, but your availabilities line up on a Friday night the weekend after.

Chan is nervous leading up to it, which you find absolutely adorable. When you look over his shoulder one night, curious what he’s focusing so intently on, you find him scrolling through articles on interacting with babies as well as tips on baby-proofing an apartment.

Before your sister arrives, you work with Chan for a few hours transforming the open area of your apartment, placing pillows and draping blankets over sharp corners and making sure to keep any small objects out of reach. 

When the doorbell rings, Chan panics, popping his head out of the kitchen from where he’s been trying to figure out a way to prevent Doyun from being able to open the cabinets.

“We're not ready!” he says, eyes wide.

“What do you want to do, keep them waiting outside until you finish?” you joke, then pause when it looks like Chan is actually considering it. “Don't worry, I'll go let my sister in and you keep working on that. We'll be watching Doyunnie the whole time, so even if you can't work that out, it's fine.”

Your sister doesn't stay for very long. She hands Doyun off to you and assures both you and Chan that your place looks safe for a baby. After going through everything that is packed in the massive diaper bag that she’s leaving with you, she heads back home to get ready for her dinner.

Doyun has a short attention span and cycles between playing with a stuffed animal, a ball, some plastic fruits and vegetables, and toy trains within the first hour. He is so adorable that you and Chan don't mind how much energy is required to keep him occupied. Luckily he's a fairly easygoing baby and hasn't fussed at all, although it did take a while for him to warm up to the two of you.

He's comfortable now, especially since Chan has started to spin the two of them around, hands firmly gripping Doyun’s torso. Doyun absolutely loves it, shrieking in excitement with his eyes crinkling. Even after a few minutes of the same thing, he never grows bored, just as thrilled everytime that Chan lifts him above his head. Although Doyun isn’t very heavy yet, after 15 minutes there’s sweat visible on Chan’s forehead and he’s starting to get out of breath.

“How about we take a bit of a break? Do you want to read?” Chan sits Doyun down against some pillows and rummages through the bag that your sister packed, finding some of the books that she included.

Chan hands the books over and although Doyun accepts both of them, he throws them aside and instead clumsily reaches up towards Chan, clearly asking to be picked up again. Chan pretends to groan and complain as he lifts Doyun back up.

“Aww,” you coo. “He really likes you.”

“And I really like him,” Chan says, spinning Doyun around. “I just wish I hadn’t gone to the gym earlier today, I didn’t realise what a workout this would be!”

Eventually Doyun grows tired, no longer begging Chan to continue. This time when Chan settles him on the ground, he just looks around curiously before crawling up to Chan and grabbing at his curls.

“He’s so small,” Chan marvels. “Look at his little fingers!”

He reaches out towards Doyun, who immediately wraps his hand around Chan’s index finger and pulls it towards his mouth.

It's comical to see the difference in size between their hands and Chan visibly melts, allowing Doyun to gum at his fingers, quickly covering them in a sheen of saliva.

“Are you hungry Doyunnie?” Chan asks. “It’s almost time for dinner, let’s see what your auntie prepared for us.”

By the time Doyun is set up in a high chair with a bib on, you’ve finished cooking. Dinner for Doyun is simple, consisting of steamed vegetables, tofu, rolled omelette, rice, and a bit of fruit. You’ve also used the same ingredients plus a few additions to make kimchi stew for you and Chan.

Chan is distracted the whole meal, prioritising feeding Doyun and wiping his face clean in between bites over eating his own food. It's a futile effort since Doyun seems more interested in smearing the food around rather than getting it into his mouth.

When you're finished with your food, you switch spots with Chan and coax Doyun into eating the last few bites he has left while Chan scarfs down his own meal. 

After dinner, you carry Doyun into the bathroom and start filling the bathtub with a shallow layer of warm water. He watches with wide eyes as you add bubble bath that changes the colour of the water to a deep blue and creates a thick cover of bubbles. After washing the dishes and wiping down the kitchen, Chan joins the both of you just as you’re rinsing suds out of Doyun’s hair.

Cleaned and dressed in a fuzzy onesie with tiny bear ears poking out from the hood, Doyun struggles to stay awake for the rest of the evening. It’s obvious that he’s tired, he’s starting to get cranky and his blinks get longer and longer, but he stubbornly continues to play. After his third time nodding off while slotting plastic shapes into a cube, Chan picks him up and walks him around the room, rocking him slightly while humming a melody that you can’t recognize.

When your sister comes to pick up Doyun, he's sprawled out on Chan’s chest, deeply asleep. A line of drool drops from his open mouth to form a wet spot on Chan’s shirt, but Chan doesn’t seem to mind, staring at Doyun with stars in his eyes.

That night, right when you're about to fall asleep, Chan speaks up. His arms are wrapped around you and you can feel his breath against the back of your neck. 

“I think,” he says quietly. “I think I want kids. Not now, I still have the same concerns as before, but in the future? I want it.”

“You did so well with Doyunnie, it looked so natural,” you agree. “I think you would be a great dad.”

“Only if you’re there by my side,” he corrects.

“There’s nowhere I’d rather be.”

till death do us part collection | read it on ao3 | masterlist

[twice-inamillion]

The Company 

High Mile Club

Smut (Deep penetration, orgasm, turning into sex toy)

Chapter 11

3,210 Words 

(A bit of info on Wendy and future endeavors within the company. OC's new flight attendant, Kim Ji-Yoon (Kim, Jisoo's sister), becomes OC's new sex toy. OC goes to visit Jessica in San Francisco on his time off.)

It’s been a few weeks since Wendy offered you her virginity in exchange for leaving Irene alone. You gladly took the offer of deflowering another idol and even continued having sex after that one time. 

You stopped pursuing Irene for a while. Irene wondered what was going on at first but didn’t ask. It was better for her if you didn’t call her to satisfy your needs and thought that you might have found someone else to fill that role. This was better for her, and she didn't look into it much. Little did she realize that you were satisfied with your needs by one of her members. 

Wendy and her team members exit the room after going over their weekly emulation and head to the cafeteria. They continue to talk as they line up to scan their IDs when suddenly you feel someone bump into you. 

You turn around and see the newly debuted group Red Velvet with their food trays, “I’m sorry, I bumped into you.”

”It’s okay, don’t worry about it, Seulgi.”

Seulgi slightly bows and apologizes for not looking, “It’s okay, you don’t need to apologize, it was an accident.” Seulgi smiles and bows once more.

You grab your food and find a table to have your meal. Out from afar, you see the Red Velvet members walking in your direction. They kindly smile as they pass you until you see Wendy at the end. You give her a soft grin, causing her to misstep and almost drop her food. “Oh, are you okay?” catching her and preventing her from falling. 

“Umm, yes. Thank you.”

”Be careful; we don’t want you getting hurt,” you say as you hold her hand. 

Wendy nods and tries to pull away when you say, “I’ll see you tonight.”

She freezes up and stares at her members, waving at her from the table. Wendy recalls the last session, making her remember the soreness she felt from getting her insides stretched.

————

During one of your meetings with the company executives, you feel a couple of text messages come in all at once. You secretly pull out your phone and see that you got a couple of messages from Jessica and open them up. 

“It must be early in the morning over there, but I wanted to tell you that I went to get an ultrasound taken. They said the baby is healthy and will probably know the gender during the next visit.” 

You scroll down and see Jessica sent you a picture of her ultrasound. Now, it feels real; you’re going to be a father. You stare at the photo for a couple of seconds, and then you see another message pop up: a photo of Jessica showing her baby bump. 

“I will be free in a few days, so I can visit you soon.” 

“Okay, I’ll see you then. It’s late over here, and I’m ready to go to sleep.”

”Goodnight, and I'll message you when I depart. .”

——

As you continue with your meeting, one of the executives mentions the importance of expanding into other areas within the entertainment industry, such as commercials and dealing with actors. 

You mentioned that you’ve also had the same idea and even considered setting up an acting label in the company. 

With some positive feedback from the rest of the executives, you all come to the conclusion of increasing your reach in the industry and increasing profits by creating an acting subdivision. 

“Do you have any suggestions on who to bring into the acting label?” asks one of the executives.

“I think it would be nice to get some that are already established in the industry and some new talent.”

”What about recruiting someone well-known like Park Min-young? She’s had a good amount of roles and is attractive?”

One of the executive’s assistants pulls up Park Min-young’s acting profile and puts it on the large screen. 

“She has a youthful face. How old is she?”

”She's 28 years old, sir.” 

“How many roles has she had so far?”

“About ten so far and one on the way.”

”Then we should look into recruiting her.”

”Will do, sir.” 

“Any other suggestions?”

Another executive mentions, “For fresh new faces, how about Shin Hye-sun or Moon Ga-young?

”Send me their profiles, and I will look into them.”

”Also an upcoming actress, Lee Hyeri.”

”Okay, send it to my office or through my assistants,” as you wrap up the meeting and prepare for lunch. 

———

Some of the trainees have noticed an increase in activity in the company's main building. For the past few days, they have seen blacked-out sedans and bodyguards in the main lobby.

”What do you think is going on?”

”Maybe investors?”

”Yeah, maybe.”

A sedan pulls up, and they see a bodyguard come out from the passenger door, then head to the rear door and open it. Out comes a woman dressed in a nice outfit. The bodyguard escorts the woman into the lobby and is greeted by one of the employees. 

“Hey, isn’t that the actress from that popular drama?”

”Oh, you’re right. What is she doing here?”

”Wait, do you think they might be recruiting actresses to the company?”

”That would be cool, maybe they might set up an acting division. I would be interested in joining if that’s the case.”

“Let’s go say hi.”

The two girls walk calmly towards the group gathered at the help desk. “Umm, do you happen to be the actress from ****?”

The actress softly nods before she is interrupted by one of the CEO's assistants, “Thank you for meeting with us. Let’s move on to one of our meeting rooms.” 

The two girls watch as the group heads to the hallway and press the elevator button. 

“See, I told you it was her.”

”You’re right; let's tell the others, they’re going to be excited!”

———

“Welcome aboard, sir.” 

“Thank you. How are you doing?”

”I’m doing well. Let me help you with your items.” 

Ji-yoon takes your bag and places it onto one of the seats. She helps adjust your chair and asks, “Would you like a drink before liftoff?”

”Just the usual.”

”Of course,” and walks to the minibar. You notice a difference in her outfit but can’t seem to get what it is. It isn’t until she bends over to fix her shoelace that you notice that her skirt is shorter than usual.

You can get a better view of her thighs and even a small glimpse of her red-laced panties. “Damn, she looks nice.”

Ji-yoon returns with your drink, “Here you go, sir.” 

“Thank you, Ms. Kim.”

”You’re welcome, but call me by my given name.”

”You sure?”

”Of course, we’re not strangers.”

”Okay. Thank you, Ji-Yoon.”

”That’s better,” gives you a soft smile. “I’ll let the pilots know we're ready for takeoff.”

Ji-yoon exits the cockpit, comes towards you, “The pilots will be taking off shortly,” and grabs your seatbelt, fasting them.

She walks towards the seat before you and fastens her belt as the plane goes down the runway. 

The pilot announces that the plane is in taxi and ready to take off. The plane turns around, and you hear the engines getting louder. The pilot steps on the accelerator to the max, feeling the plane moving rapidly down the runway. 

Ji-yoon looks out the window, and you are surprised when you notice the sight of her laced panties. You ask yourself if this is an accident or if she is doing this on purpose, but don’t mind the nice view. 

It’s a few hours into your flight; you’ve been going over the profiles of potential actresses that you are interested in joining the company.

“Would you like another drink, or should I prepare the bed for you?”

“Another drink would be nice.” 

She goes off to the other side of the plane and brings your drink for you, “Here you go, sir.” 

“I thought you said to act informally with you, but you keep calling me sir.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” 

“Call me by my name instead.” 

Out of nowhere, the plane hits some turbulence, making Ji-yoon lose her balance and fall. Luckily, you get a hold of her, but she accidentally falls on your lap.

“Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry. I spilled your drink all over you; let me clean it off.” 

As she tries to get off, the plane experiences another round of turbulence and falls back on your lap. The intercom turns on, and you hear the pilot say, “Sorry for the bumpy ride, folks. We hit an air pocket, and it seems like we are going to go through some rough patches in the next few minutes. Please remain seated, and I’ll give it all clear.” 

Ji-yoon looks at you embarrassed and says, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to get you all dirty, but now this. Let me get off of you, and I’ll clean you once it’s okay to move around.” 

She tries to get off of you, but you hold her back, “the pilot said to remain seated, remember.” 

“But I’m sitting on you; I’m heavy.”

“Not at all. I don’t mind; I prefer you to stay and not get hurt.” 

“Okay, I’ll stay,” as she positions herself better on your lap. Over the next few minutes, you both experience some turbulence, with Ji-yoon slightly grinding against your lower region. 

Ji-yoon feels embarrassed sitting on her boss's lap but, at the same time, doesn’t complain since she finds you attractive. She knows that these types of things come with the job, especially the turbulence. 

She positions herself better onto your lower region and feels your limp cock grinding against her ass. “He’s huge, it’s this big, and it’s not even hard. I’m curious how big it is.” 

Your cock begins to harden as Ji-yoon slowly grinds her ass on you. She turns her head towards you and see that she’s biting her lip. Realizing that she’s enjoying it, you grab her by the waist and press your cock closer to her ass. You then see her unbutton her jacket and takes it off, giving you a full view of her nape.

You get closer, allowing your breath to reach the back of her nape, causing her to shiver. As you are about to go in for a kiss, you hear a, ”We are all clear. You are all more than welcome to unfasten your seatbelts and move around. I appreciate your understanding.”

Ji-yoon spans back to reality and quickly gets off of you. She tries to apologize for her actions but notices the large bulge in your pants. She bites her lip and says, “I’m sorry for spilling your drink on you; let me clean that up.” 

You take off your dress shirt, revealing your build. She gasps and covers her mouth before going to the laboratory in the back of the plane. You follow her and see her scrubbing your shirt with soap and water, “It’s okay if you can’t get it off.”

”I just feel bad since it was my fault,” and she turns around, grazing her hand on your abs. 

“How about we call it a day? I’m getting kind of tired.”

”Of course, let me set up your room for you.”

After a few minutes, Ji-yoon sets up your private quarters and puts your sleepwear on the bed. 

Ji-yoon watches you change from across the plane. She notices you getting into getting completely nude and only putting on the shorts from the sleepwear she gave you. “Fuck, he’s huge.” She crosses her legs, “What are you thinking, Ji-Yoon? He’s your boss.” She pinches her arm to return to reality, but then she sees you pop out and ask, “Do you have a toothbrush? I can’t seem to find mine.” 

She watches as you walk out of your room and into the aisle and can’t help but look up and down at your body. 

“Y…yes. Let me check.” 

You lay on your bed, staring at the window for a few minutes, when you remember you left your phone in the laboratory. You slowly slide the door to your room and go to the laboratory when you see Ji-yoon inside. You see her stand in front of the mirror and notice her holding your shirt to her nose. Not wanting to make it awkward, you try to go back but meet her eyes.

She freaks out, drops your shirt, and opens the door to explain herself. “It isn’t what it looks like.” 

“Okay, I just came here to get my phone.” 

She looks back, sees your phone in one of the storage compartments, and hands it back to you. 

As she hands you her phone, you look down and see a thick but transparent substance running down her thighs. She looks down and is horrified, “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help myself. It's just that I’ve been neglected, and what happened earlier excited me.” 

She covers her face with the sudden confession and tries to walk away, but you grab her hand, stopping her. “I get what you mean. How about having a little fun?” smirking. 

“What do you mean?” 

“How about we join the high mile club?”

Ji-Yoon is surprised by the suggestion, but the idea of having sex on an airplane, especially while working and with her boss, is a total turn-on.

 She checks you out and bites her lip, letting you know her answer. You take the lead and head towards your room with a grin on your face.

After closing the door, you press her against the wall and go for a kiss. She reciprocates, giving you a sloppy kissing session. You undo her blouse and expose her white bra. Ji-yoon looks at you with hungry eyes, telling you to take her, and you do. 

You go in for her neck and begin kissing it, slowly moving towards her chest and leaving a slight trail. You hear her moan and undo her bra, dropping it on the floor as you cup her small breast between your hands. 

She gasps as you flick her nipples just before taking one into your mouth. “Ahh, fuck. That feels good.” 

With your mouth attached to her breast, you pick her against the wall. She wraps her legs around your waist, enjoying the feeling of your tongue flicking her nub. 

After a few minutes, you walk towards the bed and slowly place her down. She can’t wait to see what will happen next and undoes her skirt. 

“Fuck, you’re hot. I want to see what you have right there,” as you move towards her lower region. In one quick move, you remove her panties using your mouth and toss it across the room. 

During the next couple of minutes, prepping her for the main event. Ji-yoon breathes heavily as you eat out her shaven cunt, still anticipating for what’s to come. “Hmm, I haven’t felt this good in a long time.”

”You said your boyfriend has been neglecting you, right?”

”Yeah, he hasn’t touched me in a while. He’s been so busy with work that he doesn’t even have time to spend with me.”

”Let’s change that,” as you pull down your shorts.

Ji-yoon's mouth drops as she sees your massive length and asks herself if it’s going to fit. 

“How about we join that mile club?”

”Yeah, let's.”

You bring her to the edge of the beg and spread her legs open. Hold your cock in your hand and smack it against her cunt, coating it with her nectar. You press your cock against her lower lips and slowly move towards her. 

Ji-yoon watches as you spread her lips wide open, inserting your large cock inside her tight body. She grabs onto your arm and groans the deeper you go inside of her. “Fuck, you’re huge…”

With the outline of your cock inside Ji-yoon’s belly, you begin to thrust inside of her. You start off slowly, letting her get adjusted to your length before increasing the pace. Ji-yoon’s reaction shows that she’s enjoying it and plays with her small breasts. 

“Who’s bigger? Me or your boyfriend?”

Ji-Yoon is surprised by your question, but the way your cock is hitting the right places and areas her boyfriend has never reached before, the answer was obvious, “You, you’re much bigger than my boyfriend. He can’t compare to you; he has a tiny cock.”

Satisfied by her response, you decide to reward her by fucking her in her deepest parts. You lift Ji-yoon’s legs up and place her in a mating press. She groans when you hit the end of her womb, a place untouched by her boyfriend.

“You like that?” 

“Yeah, I do.”

“You’re so tight. Has your boyfriend ever reached this deep?”

“N..no, he hasn’t, it’s my first time. It feels so good.” 

“Then let’s make this a great memory,” as you begin to thrust rough and rapidly.  

“Fuck, you’re reaching so deep inside of me, I’m feeling weird.”

”It’s normal, you’re about to cum.”

”I’ve never felt that way when I have sex with my boyfriend.”

”Fuck, your boyfriend. You’re with me.” 

Ji-Yoon is reaching her orgasm, trembling from the new experience. She’s just able to cum, when you stop and pull out, “Don’t please, I’m so close to cumming.” 

“Beg for it.”

”Please, let me cum. I’ll do anything.”

”Anything?”

”Yes, just let me cum, and I’ll do anything.”

”Then be my fuck toy, let me use you whenever I want.”

You tease her cunt by inserting your fingers and scraping her walls. She arches her back as you tease her by preventing her first orgasm. 

“Okay, I’ll do it. I’ll be your fuck toy. Just let me cum, please!”

There’s no need for a response as you pull out your sloppy fingers and shove your cock back instead of her begging womb. Ji-Yoon screams from the sudden shock of getting her womb stabbed, “fuck!! I'm cumming!”

Ji-yoon's walls tighten around your cock, to the point of choking it. She spasms violently, wetting the bed covers from the excitement. 

With you reaching your own orgasm, you pull your cock and stand in front of Ji-Yoon, painting her face, breast and cunt completely white. “Do a peace sign for me” as you prepare to take a picture. 

Ji-Yoon sticks her tongue and makes a peace sign with her face covered in your baby batter. 

“Good morning, and welcome to San Francisco. Hope you had a good night's sleep, and thank you for flying with us, sir.”

You are looking at the view from the window and turning your head toward the aisle. You grab your phone and text Jessica on your arrival at the airport. Ji-Yoon pops your cock out of her mouth and smiles. “Thank you for the meal,” as she wipes bits of your load dripping from her mouth. 

“Come on, baby girl, clean yourself up; we’re already here.”

[ese1anime]

(Sigh)here we go,my first Au of TADC heheh yaaayyy hope yall like what I got so far of it

If you like BATIM(Bendy And The Ink Machine) then you’ll like what I’m creating for this Au…

Behold!!

Meet the Gang:

Emotion of the others:

🩶:the person

💖:crush

💚:friend/bestie

🧡:normal around

❤️:hate

(For this is the best thing I can come up with on their heights I did my best to keep the height and putting them in a row)

>Lore of the story<><>

For some of us we know that game of bendy and the ink machine has become popular for gamers that have played it or those that seen it along with knowing how virtual reality can bring a whole new side of what’s real but isn’t with headsets.Well what if they both were combined together into a whole new adventure for others to see and experience what it’s like to actually play in a horror game between BATIM and TADC all together called ✨The Amazing

Digital Ink Machine✨

The Digital Studio in a computer that is filmed to bring others that Virtual Reality life that is part of a bendy and the ink machine vibes,where lots of ink flows from the top to bottom and covered in history that is yet to behold of the ink machine.But like most people that get stuck in a virtual world,it takes your soul to another place and into a different body,making it your mission to complete it or be stuck for all eternity (just like jumanji but different 😁).For your soul can contain lots of digital hallucinations when your stuck in a studio for who knows how long and with the ink flowing,places that can be unlocked,and not knowing who you are by then for it makes a person forget their own existence or the life they thought they knew before or what they will become then………

<><><><><><><><><><><>

{}{}The Storyline{}{}{}{

Pomni was put into the system to discover what has happened to those that went missing in the real world and it’s up to her to find the pieces to this adventure she will be taking by Caine 🖤💛🖤

With each path she takes ,she must find each and one of the pieces to fix this mess that has caused a lot of damage to the system and the people that got stuck in the world as well while facing the one that has caused so many to be stuck in this digital world Ink Demon that trapped other players into this place (those that have gone missing and never returned to the real world or to their real bodies)

for Caine[AI] a companion member,comes along to give pomni some company or to help her as he was programmed to do 🖤💛🖤along with the friends that pomni will get to meet as well

Stuff that will be included in this Au:

Studio underground:

For it will bring out circus vibes to it but also make it look like a old cartoon vibe (like bendy and his friends look like)

NPC:

For they are part of the ink and tend to make it a game when facing them or come across their path throughout the quest

ink-Abstractiors:

They are like the abstraction but as giant ink monsters that leave trails of ink when they are found roaming around the area

(For this is what I got so far of the what will be added on here only because I’m working on other stuff more more often,this will be my side project of The Amazing Digital Ink Machine 💛🖤)

<><><><><><><><><><><>

{Boundaries/QnA}

•”Is this a crossover of TADC and BATIM”

Yes it’s kinda like a crossover between the horror game(BATIM) and the show(TADC)

•”Can I draw these characters?”

Sure thing! Love seeing other peoples amazing art As long as you tag me about it cause I don’t tolerate others trying to steal art idea from anyone

•”Can I make an Oc\Fanart of this Au?”

Yes,I would love to see what other bendy vibes for Tadc you come up with for this Au heh

•”Can I write a fic about this Au”

If you got any other ideas of this Au,I would love to see what others like to create of it hehe that would be great ✨

•”Is NSFW allowed?”

Yeeeeaaaahhhhhh Nnnnooooooo thanks but noooo sorrry 😅

•”Is shipping allowed?”

Of course!but most of the ships will be showtime and Bunnydoll more often

/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\

(If you have any questions let me know just pls be nice cause I don’t tolerate rude behavior on here and I want to make sure others know that as well)

[romana-after-dark]

Dead Dove December 2024

Hello everyone! This December I’m hosting a multi-fandom event that I’m calling, Dead Dove December! From 12/01/2024 - 12/31/2024 I’m encouraging others to create something that expresses their deepest and (most importantly) darkest desires. I will be reblogging all pieces of art or fanfiction, and will post a masterlist in January. or whenever i get around to it. i have not even done the pride masterlist bc I'm a disaster! But most importantly this will be for funsies.

I hosted this last year with just oscar/pedro Characters but Logan is my special guy so he's here now too <3

Details below the cut…

What is Dead Dove Do Not Eat?

Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, or DDDNE has its origins in one of my comfort shows!

The phrase comes from a meme referencing the 2003 Arrested Development episode "Top Banana", in which Michael Bluth opens a paper bag labeled "DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT" and, upon discovering that there is a dead dove inside the bag, says, deadpan, "I don't know what I expected." - fanlore.org

In short, what you see in the tags is what you should expect to see in the fic. This can apply for any type of fic, including the fluffy ones, but it’s usually associated with darker themes. That being said, this is your warning that this is a DARK THEMED EVENT. If you aren’t comfortable with darker topics like non-con, excessive violence, blood/gore, death, toxic relationships, 18+ age gaps, and more, then I encourage you not to participate in this event.

How to Participate

For the month of December, post your Dead Dove fanfiction or fan art on your blog. Use the tag #deaddovedecemeber2024 and tag me. You can also send a link via ask or DM if you like! I will not be posting anything for you, just reblogging and linking. At the end of December I will post a masterlist with links to everyone’s works! Side Note - Since Tumblr doesn’t really allow for NSFW art, you can post your work on Twitter or any other site that allows it and just send me that link so I can add it to the masterlist.

Rules

You MUST be 18+ to participate. I will be checking your blog/social media to be sure. Please make sure your age is easy to find. If I find that you’re a minor or if your age isn’t readily present I will be blocking you and you will be unable to participate. You can just add that you are over 18 if you don’t want your age out on the internet. As the creator and promotor of this event, I need to know I’m not interacting with minors given the nature of this event.

The work MUST be dark in some way. There’s no limit to how dark your work needs to be or can be, but it needs to contain some sort of dark theme in order to qualify. If non con isn’t your thing, dub con via stockholm syndrome or brainwash can let you write a more comfortable scene while still remaining dark. Fics and art do not necessarily need to be NSFW. last year a friend even did cnc, where it was seemingly dark but then ended with it was Marc and reader ding a scene. Dark reader or oc is an absolute yes.

Your work MUST have an Oscar Isaac, Hugh Jackman, or Pedro Pascal Character. It can be x reader, x oc,xcanon character, crosoversec. If you want Joel Miller fucking the ghoul from Fallout (or both of them fucking a reader)you can even though Eddie doesn't exist in any Oscar Pedro Hugh content. If you want Marc and Logan to fuck, go nuts. Got a series you're already writing, and wanna submit a dark chapter or a dark Au to it? That's fine too! We're pretty open here. No rpf.

Do NOT post anything before 12/01/2024. I will not count submissions prior to that date or after 12/31/2024. Masterlsit will be posted in January.

Your work MUST contain the proper tags. I won’t police how detailed your tags should be, but, for instance, if your work contains non-con, and you didn’t tag non-con then your work will not qualify. Please be inclusive in your writing where you can, but aware of POC queer and disabled people.

You may submit no more than two (2) pieces. This can include a fanfic and fanart, two fanfics or two fanarts. This is to allow someone to write a piece and make a work of art to accompany it. You can also work with another creator together.

I’m not going to yuck someone’s yum, but there are some things I’m just personally not comfortable with and since I’ll be reading/viewing/promoting all of these, I have a few things not allowed in the event. The list of what’s NOT allowed is shorter than the list of what IS allowed so here’s a list of the things that will NOT be tolerated in this event:

No underage/aged up minor content - To clarify, this includes things popular ships like - TLOU 1 or "Show Ellie" x Joel or Miguel O’Hara X Gwen Stacy. No "ageing up" minors for the purpose of a fic.

No Bestiality - To clarify, monsterfucking does NOT count as bestiality (at least to me). For example, werewolves, venom, Khonshu, e.t.c. are all allowed.

No Real person fanfiction. Can’t include Oscar, Pedro, or Hugh. This is not a moral judgement or me looking down just not in my comfort zone

No incest - To clarify, step-sibling/step-parent relationships are permitted as long as everyone is 18+. Different age of consent in your state or country does not apply here, and frankly I'd prefer 21+ but I know there are younger people than me who write so I'm not gonna say you gotta write like that. Selfcest relationships are also allowed (like Moon Knight or Miguel with his alternate self, e.t.c.).

No necro/snuff. Plain and simple.

I have final say in what I want to promote. Is TLOU 2 Ellie an adult and not technically Joel's ctual kid? Yes. technically it fits all the rules but it gives me the ick so I'm not gonna accept it. I cannot possibly prepare for all scenarios, and i want to just be able to have fun here with yall.

If you’re unsure if something is allowed or not, you can send me a DM or an ask for clarification prior to posting.

You can use any prompts you want or none, you aren’t tied to any one idea but here are some to get the ideas flowing if you need them!

Also, you can absolutely use a fic to inspire your art, or art to inspire a fic! Your inspiration piece, whether yours or someone else’s does not have to be from December, but you MUST obtain permission from the original creator before I promote your work. Most creators are happy when their work inspires others, and all my fics are open to being used for inspiration, but please reach out to the creator first.

I’m very excited! This is my second year hosting this an I've hosted other events by myself or with friends so I'm happy to keep going, this time with Hugh Jackman bc i can't get Logan out of my head.

Dividers and header made by the amazing @melodygatesauthor

Please consider reblogging to spread the word!

I don't reall know many people in the logan/hugh jackman fandom so I'd love if this was an oppritunity to get to know yall too!

Dark prompt list to come, also check out #deaddovedecember2023 to see what last year had!

[gnocchibabie]

Desire and Blood (Chapter 3)

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Targaryen/Strong OC (Jaenara Velaryon)

Tags: AU - canon divergence, enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, Targcest (uncle/niece)

Wordcount: 4.7k

Summary:

Against all odds, the love between childhood friends prevails and the Dance of Dragons is avoided.

However, peace comes at a cost. With the unexpected proposal of marriage between Alicent Hightower's son and Rhaenyra Targaryen's only daughter, can love truly blossom between sworn enemies? Or will Jaenara Velaryon be reduced to a mere pawn?

Love may yet arise where enmity once thrived, but Aemond's relentless pursuit of power threatens to shatter everything they hold dear, including each other.

A/N: You can find the previous chapters on my masterlist!

If you are liking this series, please consider showing some love on my AO3 posting of this fic :) thank you x

!!! This chapter contains dialogue in High Valyrian, which will be designated by bold and italics...enjoy :)

A week had slipped away since Jaenara and her family had settled into King’s Landing. She found herself passing time by discussing plans for the upcoming coronation with her mother or entertaining little Aegon and Viserys. Occasionally, she rode out on dragonback with Baela and Rhaena, savoring the freedom of the skies above. When she was up amongst the clouds, the princess forgot all about what her life had become down below. Sitting atop Aetherion, it was as if nothing else mattered.

Yet above all, Jaenara found herself occupied with a careful dance of avoidance whenever Aemond Targaryen crossed her path. She had escaped several close calls, ducking into unoccupied rooms whenever she saw the prince at the other side of a hallway. Jaenara had often wondered to herself if she could continue to keep up this game of cat and mouse well into their marriage, but the prospect of having to constantly hide from the man who was to be her husband did sadden her. Ever so slightly. 

Currently, the princess found herself in the castle gardens walking shoulder to shoulder with Helaena. Jaenara had not had as much alone time with her aunt as she would have liked, and was eager to reconnect with the one member of the Targaryen-Hightowers she could actually stand to be around. Helaena seemed to be pleased with the company, though it was difficult for Jaenara to tell at times. Her aunt had always been a somewhat emotionally distant person, even when they were children.

“My mother tells me that the planning for Rhaenyra’s coronation is almost finished?” Helaena inquires.

Jaenara and Jacaerys had both been closely involved with the planning of their mother’s name day ceremony. The preparations had proven to be stressful, even now plaguing the princess’ mind. Temporary discomfort is a small price to pay for mother to sit the Iron Throne - Jaenara had told herself. Though, she could not say she felt the same way about the looming, permanent discomfort she would soon find herself in…

Rhaenyra had even tried to include Aegon in the ceremony planning as well. An offering for the position he had given up for his older sister. Though he had seemed less than interested, opting to disappear for hours at a time instead. Even now, Jaenara wondered where her uncle often took off to, leaving her sweet aunt and their children alone. She questioned if she would be condemned to such a fate as well - Aemond fluttering about doing gods know what while she was left to care for their babes alone. The princess decides it is best not to mull over such depressing possibilities that she may soon enough find herself in.

“Yes, her name day will be here before we know it - just a short week away. Though I find myself anxious about the festivities.” Jaenara finally responds. 

“I understand,” Helena breathes, “I am not one for crowds either.”

“Well then we must stick together until the whole ordeal is over.” Jaenara reassures her aunt. And herself.

“I would gladly,” Helaena giggles, “Though when your wedding day arrives, my brother will stand at your side, not I."

Jaenara sighed - another formality she had been dreading heavily. She’d venture to guess that the moment her mother’s name day passes, planning for the wedding will begin immediately. The princess knew that her scarcity of interactions with Aemond would not last for much longer. Not if either of their mothers could help it. 

Jaenara felt she had little to discuss with her betrothed. What else was there to say?

Helaena came to a halt, bending down to pick up a large, green beetle. Jaenara winced - she had never been one for bugs, save for the pretty butterflies she had often chased with her aunt in their youth. She watched as the beetle began to travel up Helaena’s arm. Jaenara found that Helaena looked serene, her blonde-white hair picked up by the breeze and a content smile on her lips. The princess decides to take advantage of the peaceful moment to ask her aunt a troubled question.

“What is it like? Being married, that is.” Jaenara’s face grows serious.

Helaena removes the beetle from her forearm with a gentle touch and places it on a leaf below.

“It doesn’t really feel like anything,” She says, though her aunt does not sound particularly bothered by the dreary thought, “Aegon does not pay me much mind. Save for the times we have…done our duty.”

Jaenara clears her throat awkwardly.

“So, I suppose it is not so bad. I am free to do as I please. As he is. Though I think Aemond will make a better lover.” Helaena finishes. Jaenara looks at her aunt as if she has three heads and scoffs. She looks back at the princess with a coy look on her face.

“What a terrifying thought.” Jaenara sounds defeated as the two women resume their walk. A calm silence passes over them once again, as does the gentle breeze.  

Helaena looks as though someone is speaking to her and finds herself gazing up at the sky for a moment - and then to her niece.

She smiles, as if the clouds have told her a secret.

— — —

On the far side of the Red Keep, The One Eyed Prince begins to lay the groundwork of his plan to put his soon-to-be wife on the Iron Throne. Aemond has decided he must get in the good graces of his family - especially Jacaerys - if he is to carry out familicide without raising any suspicion that he had a hand in it. Something easier said than done, Aemond knows. Any amount of decency he could afford the heir and his brother would be met with scrutiny. A few kind words will not undo years of victimization dealt on both sides. 

Aemond clenches his jaw as he searches for his nephews throughout the grounds of the Red Keep. Locating them had proven to be challenging, though not as much as finding their sister. Aemond knew that Jaenara had been purposefully avoiding him. One evening, he had even caught sight of her ducking into her mother’s chambers when he had turned a corner, entering the same hallway as her. Her elusion frustrated the prince. If he could not speak to the princess and build up a rapport with her, then she would assuredly be the first to point her finger at him when news of Jace’s murder came about.  

Just when Aemond is about to give up entirely, he spots Jacaerys and Lucerys in the training yard, wooden swords in hand. Aemond lurks back for a moment, watching them practice their drills. Their moves are quick and calculated, proving that his nephews had become even more skilled fighters during their time away from the Red Keep. Though their moves had a certain unrefined quality to them. Aemond finally moves from his spot, drawing nearer to the princes. Lucerys spots him first and mumbles a curse under his breath, as hid older brother turns to meet Aemond’s eyes. Aemond smirks at the boys, and he can tell it takes all of Jace’s strength not to throw down his play sword and saunter off. 

The prince stands tall over his nephews, to hide the uneasiness he feels about approaching them. He’s pulled his long, sleek hair into a bun. His own sword, a practice blade worn smooth from countless hours of swinging, hung loose at his side

The air is tense around the group and a short silence hangs over them. Clanking of wood and metal and grunts fills the yard as the princes all stare at each other.

Aemond finally clears his throat and breaks the quiet.

"You're both too cautious," he remarks in a voice that carries authority but also a hint of patience. "Don't overthink your strikes. Let them flow naturally. It's about instinct as much as it is about technique."

Jacaerys narrowed his eyes skeptically. "You must think of us as fools, uncle. Why would we listen to you? You do not practice the habit of fighting honorably - Luke and I’ve both seen that.”

And what would you know about fighting honorably? Aemond remarks to himself.

Where is the honor in gouging out a boy’s eye? 

He inhales a deep breath to calm his rising frustration.

Lucerys, ever the more reserved of the two, held his ground but watched Aemond with a cautious curiosity.

Aemond knows he should not make the jest, but before he can stop himself, the words fall from his smug mouth.

“Fools? No - I only see two Strong boys before me.” 

Both of the brother’s harden their gaze. This time, Jacaerys does take off, with Luke trailing behind.

Fuck.

“But!” Aemond is quick to add to his lecture, desperate to keep the boys where they are, “Honor in battle is not always as straightforward as the songs would have it. There are times when survival demands unconventional measures.”

“And how,” Jace has stopped and turned to face his uncle once more, “would you know anything of a real battle?”

“You forget I train with Ser Criston Cole.” “You forget we trained with Daemon Targaryen.”

Aemond chooses to bite back another remark about how - despite training with one of the realm’s most formidable soldiers, the brother’s still lacked the necessary knowledge and skills.

Instead, he walks back towards their place in the yard and motions for the Velaryons to follow him. Jace stares at him a moment, lets out an exaggerated huff and mutters, “Come on, Luke.”

At their return, Aemond demonstrates a quick feint, his movements precise. “You’re signaling your intent with your movements, Jacaerys. And Lucerys, you hesitate before every strike. Be bold, but calculated. Like this," he continued, demonstrating a fluid series of strikes and blocks. Luke, with a touch of reservation, takes up a fighting stance in front of his older brother.

Aemond nodded approvingly. "Let's try it again. And this time, don't hold back."

For the remainder of the afternoon, Aemond guided them through drills and techniques, offering pointers in between bouts. Slowly, the initial wariness between the boys and the Targaryen prince faded, replaced by a grudging respect for his skill and knowledge.

When the sun had begun to dip into the horizon, the three young heirs sheathed their swords. Aemond found a rare smile breaking through his usually stoic demeanor. He did not find any joy in the times he sparred with Aegon, which had been few and far between lately. His brother had no real interest in learning and bettering his skills. And Criston Cole was becoming predictable - through no fault of his own. Aemond simply had no one else to spar with that was anywhere near his level. He found unexpected fulfillment in teaching his nephews.

Jace finally deposits his wooden sword with the others in the training yard, Luke following suit. 

With a huff and an expression that makes the prince seem physically pained he tells his uncle, “Well. That was rather…I did not think I’d ever see the day where you would give us any kind of genuine advice. Nevertheless, I am…grateful for your counsel uncle.” 

“Yes. Thank you, Aemond.” Lucerys adds curtly.

Aemond gives them a nod as acknowledgment.

Naive fools.

With that, Jace and Luke begin their journey back into the Red Keep. Aemond watches the boys stride away side by side. He almost resigns himself to turning in for the day, when a thought suddenly enters his mind. 

“Do you know where I might find your sister?” He calls after them. 

Jace remains silent continuing his walk. Aemond rolls his eyes.

She has sworn them to secrecy.

Lucerys seems to take some sort of pity on his uncle after their shared afternoon - much to the dismay of Jace, “I think she spoke of spending time in the gardens…” the younger brother’s sentence trails off when he sees the look Jacaerys gives him. 

Aemond nods gratefully, though no one sees it, and sets off towards the gardens, his mind already racing. He knew spending time with Jaenara was another crucial part of his plan he needed to begin sowing the seeds for. As much as she may detest it.

The believed that if he could convincingly pretend to be infatuated with his niece, to the extent that she truly believed his feelings were genuine, it might help divert suspicion away from him regarding her brother’s eventual murder. She may even come to defend him, when the time comes. Though this would prove to be a challenge.

“You can expect a union that does not harbor any illusions of love” Aemond’s own words from her first evening back at King’s Landing echoed in his mind.

Aemond lets out a frustrated groan and picks up his pace.

When he reaches the gardens, Aemond finds Jaenara and his sister seated on a weathered stone bench in deep discourse, while their ladies-in-waiting linger nearby, amusing themselves.

The distant laughter of the two maidens surprises Aemond and stirs a hint of a smile on his face. He couldn’t remember the last time his sister had laughed so freely. It was then, he realized, he had never heard Jaenara genuinely laugh. Everything she let out in his presence was nothing more that a scoff or dry laugh. This, he thought, was a nice change of pace. Happiness suited her.

I should leave them. Aemond’s resolve falters for a moment, and he pivots for a swift and silent retreat. Yet, his sister catches sight of him before he can vanish.

"Aemond!" Helaena's voice rings out, compelling him to sigh and reluctantly turn back to face them.

Helaena's eyes glint with mischief as she waves a hand, beckoning him over. Meanwhile, the fleeting smile on Jaenara's face vanishes, replaced by an indifferent gaze.

"Aemond," his sister greets again, her tone laced with curiosity. "Where have you been?"

"Just sparring with your brothers," Aemond replies, his gaze drifting towards Jaenara.

The surprise in Jaenara's eyes is evident and impossible to conceal.

"With Jace and Luke?" she questions, her voice tinged with disbelief. "You seem…unscathed. I trust the same can be said for my brothers?"

"It was just a training session - nothing if not civil. I only meant to give them a bit of advice," Aemond responds, a smirk playing upon his lips.

Helaena suddenly springs to her feet. "I don’t believe you two have had many opportunities to speak as of late. I will leave you to catch up" she suggests, a faraway look on her face. "I must attend to the children." Her lady-in-waiting follows closely behind as she departs.

Jaenara starts to rise, offering to assist, but Helaena insists she stay. Aemond can't help but conceal his amusement at Jaenara’s desperate state.

The princess exhales sharply and resumes her promenade through the gardens, without so much as a glance over her shoulder at Aemond. With a huff, he follows behind her, as her lady-in-waiting mirrors.

The prince wishes he could dismiss the attendant, wishing for a moment alone with Jaenara to speak without restraint. 

He thinks of another solution.

Aemond peers down at his niece and lets High Valyrian fall freely from his lips.

“You have been avoiding me.” 

Jaenara does not remove her eyes from the path in front of her.

“You have not sought me out.” She retorts, her tone cool and collected. Aemond lights up. He had not expected his niece to be fluent in their mother tongue, and hearing her voice enunciate the ancient words caused something unknown inside of him to stir. 

“I am now,” he replies evenly, “ And I have to say, I had not expected you to be so fluent in Valyrian. Not even my brother speaks it so well. That idiot can barely piece together a single sentence.” 

Jaenara laughs, “I am a Targaryen. Every Targaryen should speak their language. Understand their history.”

Aemond nods, “Something we can agree on, niece. Though I have to say, you speak it better than I thought a-”

“Then a bastard would?” Her words are laced with a bittersweet acknowledgment that catches Aemond off guard. His niece had never spoken the truth of her parentage in front of him - or anyone for that matter. In truth, Aemond found him unsettled from her acquiescence. Though he understood the only reason she dared to acknowledge the truth now, is because no one around them had a clue what she was saying. 

“You’re not laughing, uncle. Very unlike you - you who never passes up an opportunity to remind me of my blood.” Jaenara still seemed unfazed, her attention drifting to a cluster of blue irises at their feet. She bends gracefully to touch the silky petals, and Aemond finds himself captivated by the way her dark hair spills like a cascade of black silk over the blossoms. He clears his throat.

“You are to be my…ābrazȳrys (wife). I no longer wish to humiliate you over things out of your control, such as your parentage.” Aemond’s voice is steady and controlled, betraying his inner turmoil over making such remarks.

Jaenara lets out a laugh, though it sounds hollow. Much unlike the laughter she had shared with his sister. Her lady-in-waiting shifts uncomfortably behind them. “Actions speak louder than words, Aemond.” The princess rises from her spot amongst the flowers, turning to face her betrothed.

Aemond is filled with a stubborn determination at hearing her challenge, and takes a few steps towards her - until he can feel his niece’s breath fan over him. He stares down at her, and finds that he enjoys how she does not shrink under his gaze.

“Pār nyke jāhor gaomagon.” - Then I will act.

Jaenara laughs again, but it is quickly put to an end.

“I do not know why you laugh, Jaenara. I am being sincere.” His gaze is hard. 

She considers his words for a moment, and turns back to the garden path. The princess returns to the common tongue. 

"Come along, it is growing darker," Jaenara says, her voice carrying a hint of finality as she resumes their journey along the garden path. Aemond follows silently, his mind still processing the weight of their conversation. The sun dips lower, casting long shadows across the estate grounds, while a cool evening breeze stirs the leaves of ancient trees. When the couple finally reach the stone archways and paths of the Red Keep, Aemond speaks up once more. 

“You will have breakfast with me. Tomorrow” It is not a question, though his tone remains soft..

“I will?” Jaenara asks, an eyebrow raised in defiance.

“This is me taking action.” He offers her a wry smile.

Jaenara exhales and looks to her handmaiden, who skillfully avoids her gaze. “Fine. I will see you in the morning” She stomps off to her chambers, lady-in-waiting trailing behind. The princess does not get to see the small, honest smile that settles on Aemond’s lips. 

— — —

Early the next morning, Jaenara awakes to a polite knock on her chamber door. Alora, her lady-in-waiting, entered cautiously, offering a sheepish greeting. "Good morning, Your Grace."

The princess rubbed her eyes wearily and yawned. "Good morning, Alora. And please, call me Jaenara when it is just us. No need for formality in the privacy of these chambers." she replied with a tired attempt at a smile.

"Oh! Yes, my lady—I mean, Jaenara," Alora stumbled over her words, feeling conflicted over addressing a princess so casually. "Um... Aemond - the prince - sent me to assist you with dressing. He wishes to have breakfast with you?" She sounds uncertain.

Jaenara sighed lightly and pushed herself to her feet. "Very well. Let's not keep him waiting," she said, giving Alora a reassuring glance.

Alora deftly combs out Jaenara's long, ebony hair, swiftly braiding half of it and letting the rest fall down her back. As the princess gradually awakened, she engaged in light conversation with the younger girl, easing her nerves. 

With gentle assistance, Alora helped Jaenara into a splendid dress—its upper half a deep shade of black, its lower half a rich crimson. The sleeves were wrought with golden embroidery. Once satisfied with her handiwork, Alora guided Jaenara to the dining room, where Aemond awaited their arrival.

“Thank you, Alora. I think that will be all for now.” The princess smiles at her lady, dismissing her. Jaenara hesitantly pulls out a chair across from Aemond.

“Good morning.” She offers. An honest attempt at niceties. 

Aemond hums, sounding pleased. “Good morning.”

It remains quiet for a while, as the two begin to serve themselves and take a few bites of the breakfast that has been prepared. The prince steals glances at his niece, observing how her dark curls frame her face. Watching her spoon her food gracefully. Noting how her dress clings to her.

At last, Aemond ventured to break the quiet. “That dress suits you well.”

The princess pauses her cutting of a sausage. Jaenara had not expected to hear that kind of comment so early in the morning. And no less from Aemond of all people. She narrows her eyes at him.

“What?” She asks, as if offended.

Aemond pauses, mid-bite. “I only meant it as a compliment. The Targaryen colors agree with you.” 

Jaenara continues with her meal, deciding that pretending as though she had not heard her uncle was the best course of action.

Why did he say that? Does he mean to mock me?

The prince breaks the silence once more, wanting to change the subject. "I hear your mother's name day preparations have been finalized."

Jaenara swallows a mouthful of food and clears her throat. “Um…yes. I believe so. Everything should be in place by now. The ceremony will be in…five days? I believe.”

"My mother seems unusually eager for the occasion," Aemond remarked. "She and Rhaenyra have been quite chatty lately."

“You’ve noticed too?”

“It is hard not to.” Aemond admitted.

Jaenara shrugs, “True enough. Well, they seem happier anyway.”

Aemond only hums in agreement. “My mother, although…she seems to be even more excited about the wedding than the coronation ceremony.”

Jaenara sputtered on the ale served alongside their meal.

A smug grin spread across the prince's face.

“Oh? Is that so?” She asks as nonchalantly as she can. 

“Oh yes,” Aemond sounds amused, “I hear her and Rhaenyra have taken to planning a few things.”

"What!?" Now Jaenara could not hide her surprise. Her outburst drew the attention of nearby servants, and Aemond grinned at her fluttering.

“Um - I only meant. I had not known they were already planning the ceremony.” She finished, dabbing a napkin to the corners of her mouth.

“Well someone has to. We certainly have not spoken about it.” Aemond remarks.

Jaenara almost feels guilty. She searches Aemond’s eyes for any indication of regret or sadness over their lack of time together. 

“Well then…what would you like to discuss about it?” The princess makes an attempt to turn to the matter.

Aemond considers the question. “What kind of cake would you like?”

Jaenara lets out a true laugh at that, catching Aemond off guard.

“If I must tell you,” She says while catching her breath, “I am fond of lemon pastries.”

Aemond makes a noise of agreement. He recalls that her mother favors the sweets as well. “Then we shall have them.”

Jaenara looks up from her meal and the couple lock eyes. She stares intently into his, trying to decipher his unreadable expression. 

What are you doing, uncle? She is left to wonder. Jaenara feels a crack begin to form in the walls she had put up to keep Aemond out. But the fracture is filled as quickly as it appears when she considers that Aemond is simply playing his part. Putting up a charade. The princess looks at the man before her, and can only seem to remember the cruelties that he has dealt. Her heart hardens.

"Why do you care?" she questioned, her tone accusatory. Despite their heartfelt conversation in the garden the day before, Jaenara only continued in her struggle to believe in her uncle's sincerity.

“Because I want to care.” Aemond is taken aback, though he makes an effort to sound earnest.

The princess scoffs and takes a swig of ale. She rises to her feet.

“I am full.” she declares, signaling an end to the meal and perhaps to their conversation. Jaenara stands and walks the length of the table, drawing near to the door but coming close to Aemond.

That strikes a chord within the prince, “You are about as stubborn as a damn mule,” he mutters under his breath.

The retort is not lost upon the princess’ ears. Jaenara spun around abruptly, facing her uncle where he was currently still seated. "Excuse me?" she exclaimed incredulously.

"Damn it," Aemond whispered to himself, closing his eyes briefly. 

“And here I thought you were being truthful yesterday when you said you no longer meant to belittle me.” She bites.

Some unseen force compelled Aemond onward. He reached out and gently but firmly grasped his niece's wrist.

"I only meant..." He struggled to find the right words. "Gods, you're infuriating."

Jaenara felt a stirring within her at his touch, but she pushed the sensation aside, focusing instead on his words. "I’m infuriating?" 

Now, Aemond raises his voice. “Yes! Infuriating. I am making a sincere effort to get to know you, and I am met with nothing but resistance. There is nothing we can do to change the marriage we will soon find ourselves in,” He rises from his chair, hand still gripped around Jaenara, “but I am making a sincere attempt to make it more bearable. For you.”

A part of Aemond understood that his words were primarily to uphold a facade, to maintain the illusion of feigned interest in his niece. Yet another part of him recognized sincerity in his sentiments. He couldn't help but feel pity for Jaenara. This thought had crossed his mind repeatedly—in the quiet of his chambers, in the stillness of the night, and even yesterday as he watched her depart from the estate gardens. She had undoubtedly drawn the short straw amidst their betrothal.

Jaenara Velaryon was being forced to marry Aemond, a scarred and flawed second son by his own reckoning. While Aemond had initially perceived the proposal of marriage to his own bastard niece as an insult, he couldn't deny the faint attraction he harbored towards her— a sentiment he was certain she did not reciprocate. 

The princess regarded her uncle with a peculiar mix of curiosity and contemplation, allowing his words to sink in. Jaenara's relationship with her uncle had always been incredibly strained — tense. Yet, as she observed the furrow in his brow and the genuine anguish in his eyes, she sensed a truth in his earnest plea. She reflected on her initial hopes—that they might spend their lives avoiding each other, barely exchanging words. Yet, standing before him now, she reconsidered. If Aemond—of all people—could muster some semblance of kindness, however feigned, Jaenara resolved she could reciprocate. Even if it was nothing but a lie. 

For in the convoluted dance of courtly alliances and familial expectations, sometimes even the semblance of civility could hold more weight than honesty in securing fragile peace.

With hesitant resolve, she reached out, gently clasping his hand in hers. Aemond feels goosebumps form on his skin from the additional contact. 

"Aemond," she began quietly, meeting his gaze squarely. He makes an effort to memorize how his name sounds on her lips.

Gods be damned, he thought. 

"I apologize. I hadn't fully appreciated your efforts. You are right. For this marriage to have any chance of contentment and peace, we must find common ground. We must make an effort to get to know each other."

The princess finished her apology, her words hanging in the air between them. All Aemond could manage in response was a silent nod, fearing that his mouth would betray him if he were to open it.

Jaenara withdrew her hand from his with a slight hesitation. "Well…I should be going. I intend to meet with my mother to discuss our impending wedding. There is much to plan," she added, her voice faltering slightly as she hurried out of the room.

Aemond stood there, taking a deep breath to calm his racing heart. He glanced down at the hand that had briefly held his niece's, flexing his fingers thoughtfully, a mixture of uncertainty and determination swirling within him.

A/N: As you may have noticed, this chapter is structured a little differently! I decided to make these changes for narrative purposes/so everything flows better. Because of this, I will be revising the previous two chapters, so the next chapter may take a little longer to come out (I also have a job interview coming up, so I will be doing a lot more than just brainstorming and writing now T-T) Anyways! As always, thank you for reading :)

Tags: @toodlesxcuddles

[phoward89]

Jealous!Coryo x Reader, Odair!Ancestor x Reader.

Series Masterlist

WARNING ⚠️ Coriolanus Snow is a warning in and of itself. That man is a walking blood red flag waving heavily in the wind! engagement (not reader), smut, infidelity, love triangle, manipulation, stalking?, gaslighting, fluff, Head Gamemaker!Coryo, District 4 Cruise Ship Heir!Odair OC. Dark!Coriolanus, Jealous!Coriolanus, Dom!Coriolanus

Chapter 6:

It's been too long since you've been to the spa. You forgot how relaxing it is. And maybe what makes it even better is that Coriolanus is paying for it. That you can have all the treatments your little heart desires and he's footing the bill.

“It's good to see you here again. What happen, did Coriolanus and you get into a lovers spat and he cut off your spa allowance?” The esthetician asked, applying a much needed cleansing jelly mask to your face as you laid down on the comfortable bed like table.

“He's not my lover, Adara. He's actually my boss now, plus he's engaged to Livia Cardew.” You pointed out to your beloved skin goddess, the best esthetician in Capitol City.

“Oh please.” The violet and blonde streaked young lady loudly cackled. “Nobody believes that shame for a lousy minute.”

“What? But they look-” You start to say only for Adara to cut you off with, “Coriolanus looks absolutely miserable next to her in pictures. He seriously looks like he's going to strangle her.” Shaking her head and applying more of the thick vitalizing goop on your face, she adds, “And that blonde shrew might look sweet and smiley next to him but she bad mouths him every chance she gets. Some things she's said has even gone viral on Pan-Tok, Pan-Tube, and Pan-X. She even shit talked him while a bit tipsy on her friend's Pangram Live stream.”

“I didn't know this. Why didn't I know this?”

“Probably since the aspiring Senator Snow doesn't have social media and you only have a Panbook- that you haven't been on in like over a month.”

“Fuck! So she's dragging his name in the mud via social media?!”

“Yes.” Adara confirms while finishing applying your facial mask treatment. “And practically all of Panem hates her.” She informed you while putting cucumbers on your eyes for a finishing touch.

Sitting down in the stool next to your bed Adara, who was a friend of sorts to you, says, “Livia’s worse than her older brother and Livinius is always getting into shenanigans with the two Capitol losers: Odysseus Odair, the pretty boy that drinks too much, and Hector Heavensbee, the stoned cousin of Hilarious Heavensbee.”

“Wait, what? How do you know this?”

“Social media, duh.” The blonde-violet girl rolled her eyes at you, even if you couldn't see them since your eyes are closed with little cucumbers on them. “Girl, you're too young not to be on social media.” Adara seriously told you. “Listen up, after we're done with your mask we’ll do your manicure then your pedicure. And after that you're signing up for all the social media accounts.”

“Yes, I think it's overdue for me to have more social media then Panbook.” You told her, a calculating smile hinting your lips.

Oh you're going to be creating social media accounts, but solely for the purpose of finding out what damage Livia Cardew's doing to Coriolanus’ image. Once you find out, you'll have to tell him and then come up with a plan to address it.

You're hairstylist, Fabian, was currently with another client so you're scrolling on your phone; looking at all the crazy shit that Livia Cardew's been posting on Pangram, while sitting in the lobby of the high end salon. Oh God, she's such a stick up bitch. Such a shrew. She seriously posted a picture of a bubble tea while complaining that they're wasn't enough bubbles in the tea.

Oh hell…

The receptionist was sitting at the front desk, flipping thru a rag mag whenever she gasped. Whatever she saw must be shocking.

Flipping the magazine in half, she held it up to you and said in a scandalous tone, “That farce of a political pony show going on between your Coriolanus and Livia.Cardew’s going to ruin his reputation.” Waving the magazine in the are, she told you, “Look, paparazzi’s got some pictures of her drunk and stumbling on the sidewalk. The accompanying article says the picture were taken while she was ranting to her socialite friends about how her fiance’s a freak in bed that scoffs at her purity ring, asked if he could stick it up her ass to keep her virginity intact, and she even said that Coriolanus has a thing for dirty district women; chased that former singing victor all those years ago just to screw around with her before his fall semester of University.”

“What?!” You loudly exclaimed, jumping out of you seat and rushing over to the reception desk to grab that trash gossip magazine from Xandra. “Oh Andraste’s tit, let me see that!” You curse, snatching up the magazine that's freely offered to you.

As your eyes look at the damning pictures and read the article, the receptionist tells you, “That's one of the magazine's that get delivered all over Panem; even the Districts get it. Particularly the PK bases as I understand.”

“Shit…” You mutter under your breath. You feel both pissed and lightheaded at the sudden revelation of what Livia Cardew's actions mean for Coriolanus' Senate run.

Damnit…

And it was that moment that Fabian’s client left and the stylist with perfectly feathered hair came up to you. “Y/N, it's been too long.” The hairstylist greeted you with a kiss to the cheek, which you returned in kind. Leading you back to his work station, he asked, “It's been over a month since you've had your hair done. Did Coriolanus not like my work last time?”

“No, Fabian.” You shook your head. “We just got into a spat, so we weren't talking “ You explain, taking your place in the salon chair.

“I hope you worked everything out since he called to fit you in; is picking up the tab like always too.” Fabian told you while placing a colorful smock around you.

“We worked things out as best as we could considering I'm his new assistant now. I'm his new campaign manager too.”

“Oh that's wonderful. Now if only we could toss that horrible Livia into that toxic sludge river over in 8 then everything’ll be perfect.”

“Fabian, that's horrible.”

“Yes, but you know it's true. Now, what're we doing with your hair today? Blow out, keratin treatments?”

*I want an entire new look.” You told your hairstylist.

“Ooo, new look for a new era.” Fabian clapped happily.

“I want hair that says I'm a bad boss bitch.” You smirked.

“Oh, honey, I know exactly what you need. Just leave it to me.” Fabian told you before hurrying off to the supply room to grab some supplies to make your hair new and to die for.

Your hairstylist was going to give you new hair that'll be the envy of everyone in the Capitol. Your new hairstyle will even have Coriolanus down on his knees, begging you to take him back. Oh, Fabian knows that what he has planned cut and color wise for your hair’s going to drive Coriolanus up the wall with desire. That he's going to be going crazy when he sees you.

The hairstylist views it as his personal mission to make sure that his best client stays with the only man in the Capitol that encourages his girl to routinely get her hair done. Most men aren't so generous like that when it comes to expensive salon visits every handful of weeks.

After your getting your hair done, you went home and drowned yourself in endless social media posts across various platforms for Livia Cardew. It seems like some were worse then others, but none of them were any good for your best friend. As long as he's connected to her, well, his campaign's going to tank.

You saw that Festus and Persephone weren't following Livia on social media. The newlyweds, whose wedding Coriolanus dragged you a few months prior, seemed to have either never added her, stopped following her, or blocked her from their accounts. You also saw that the couple had started to follow you on the social media accounts that you created earlier in the day with Adara in the spa.

You’re done scrolling thru Livia Cardew's accounts and decide to call Coryo to tell him all about what you uncovered. After three rings he answers his phone with a professional, “Head Gamemaker Snow speaking, to whom am I speaking with?”, before he realizes it's you

“It's me, Y/N.” You tell him as you pop up on the phone’s video screen. “I thought you would've programmed my new number from my application into your phone.” You chuckle while sitting up straighter on your sofa.

“I didn't even notice it, I just hit accept hire after after looking over your education and work history.”

“Oh.” You simply nod.

Before you could even tell Coriolanus why you're calling, he gives you a dazzling smile paired with the compliment of, “I like what you've done with your hair. The new cut and color suits you, my darling rose.”

Fabian was right, the hairstyle and color he gave you was going to drive Coriolanus wild. How did he know, who knows? But right now Coryo's baby blues are flashing with interest and mirth; they're locked into your face- he's in absolute awe of your new hairstyle/color.

A lopsided grin appeared on the platinum blonde's lush lips as he suggests, “Why don't I take you out to dinner to celebrate hiring you as both the Head Assistant Gamemaker and my Campaign Manager?”

“Don't forget your PR Liaison as well, Aspiring Senator Snow.” You teased Coryo, who still hasn't styled his platinum curls yet. “Oh, I did some digging while waiting for my appointment at the salon and found out why your campaign’s tanking.”

“Well, what did you uncover, my darling?” Coriolanus asks, leaning back in his sitting chair. The one in his living room to be exact.

“The problem isn't you, but it's your fiance: Livia Cardew. Everyone hates her.”

“That doesn't surprise me; I hate the shrew too.” The imposing blonde man, who's been your best friend for nearly 2 decades, chuckled.

Shaking your head, you sadly sigh, “Well, I think she hates you more than you hate her considering she's posting a lot of hate about you.”

Coriolanus arched a perfectly shaped brow at your words, causing you to tell him the blunt truth of your discoveries. “She’s spewing shitty remarks here and there; not to mention ranting about you on her friend's Pangram Live.” You take a tiny breath, only to sigh and tell him the most damning information of all. “Oh and then there's a story and some pap pics in a very popular and well circulated rag mag that has her stumbling drunk and ranting to her friends about you wanting to stick it up her ass cause she's wearing a purity; how you have a sexual attraction to district girls too.”

“Fucking hell…” Coriolanus groans, raking his lake hands thru his platinum curls- a nervous habit of his. “That's very damning for my campaign.”

“Yes,” You nod in agreement, “it is.”

“Well, I've been wanting out of the engagement and I've found a way to end it without looking like the bag guy.” Coriolanus told you, his lips in a thin pressed line. “But I can't tell you until we're alone in my car, it's not something I want to talk about over the phone.”

A few hours later you find yourself alone in a sleek, black sedan with Coriolanus behind the driver's seat. Since it's early spring, he's in a light grey suit with a wine hued waistcoat. It pairs lovely and really makes both his platinum hair, whose curls he just lightly gelled to keep from being messy, and his cerulean eyes pop.

“You look beautiful, baby.” Coriolanus smiles, looking between you and the road, as he pulls out of the parking garage.

“Thank you, but flattery’ll get you nowhere. You already complimented me on my dress when you picked me up, no need to do it again.”

“And only you, my darling rose, has the audacity to get your feathers ruffles over receiving multiple compliments from your lover.”

“My lover?” You scoff sardonicly, rolling your perfectly made up eyes.

“Whether you want to admit it or not, it's what we are, Y/N.” Coriolanus tells you, his baritone a bit softer then usual, as his hand slides off the clutch and onto your thigh- a thigh that's covered by the peachy pink skirt of your dress. A dress that was designed for you by Tigris, that had small white roses randomly embroidered on it.

Pushing his large hand off of your thigh, you give him a leveling look and state in a solid tone, “I thought that we're childhood best friends, who had a situationship that got a bit messy, but decided to work together for your political dreams.”

“We're working on our political ambitions. Don't forget, I did promise to make you my First Lady.” The platinum man with looks rivaling that of the gods themselves had the balls to tell you, all the while taking your hand in his. With a smirk, he changed the subject by giving you his opinion on your manicure. “I quite prefer your nails long and red, baby. They look much better then the short French tips you were wearing during our month long absence from each other.”

Of course he prefers long red stiletto nails on you over the short square French tips. Man sure does love red. You're not even surprised about that.

You don't make a comment about him liking your nails, but you do comment on his little making you his First Lady remark. “Last time I checked, Head Gamemaker Snow, the First Lady's married to the President and you're engaged to Livia Cardew.” After the little reminder of his reality, you decided to twist the knife in his heart and hurt his ego (because he broke your heart) by adding in, “Oh, and right now I wouldn't marry you if you were the last man on earth.”

Coriolanus’ Adam's apple felt thick and stuck in the hollow of his throat as a reaction to hearing your cruel words. He knows deep down in is black, head, shriveled up heart why you said that. That you're trying to hurt him because he broke your heart; his promise to you.

Except he's doing his best to right his wrong; to ensure that he keeps his promise to you.

Coriolanus’ Adam's apple bobs up and down as he swallows down the thickness trapped in his throat. Looking between you and the road as he weaves in and out of traffic lanes, he reveals, “I'm going to get out of my arranged engagement by framing the Cardew's for bank fraud.”

“What?” You blurt out, finding his idea to be a bit brash. “Can’t you just call off the engagement because of irreconcilable differences?”

“No, baby,” Coriolanus shook his head, “I can't just break it off due to irreconcilable differences.” He quickly switched lanes again, cutting off a car and getting honked at. “Livia’s being a frigid shrew and dragging my name in the mud; how do you think me dropping her like a hot potato’ll make me look? Hmm, how would it look for my campaign?”

Turning your head to give him an incredulous look, you ask, “So, what, you're going to destroy the family that runs the Capitol United Bank to effortlessly break off an arranged engagement and to gain sympathy votes for your campaign?”

“Yes.” The icy eyes man smiles widely, like a maniac. “It's a flawless plan, Y/N. I trust that as my right hand woman and future First Lady that I have your complete support with this.”

Honestly, it might sound horrible, but you didn't give a shit about Livia Cardew or her family. If Coriolanus had to destroy the top banking family in the country to end his engagement and save his campaign then so be it.

“You just do whatever you have to do to and when it's done I'll make sure that you come out smelling like a rose in the media.” You told the man next to you as he pulled over, without using his blinkers, into the entrance of the restaurant he's taking you to.

The Capitol Grille.

“Good.” Coriolanus nods while getting into the line for valet parking. “Tomorrow we need to start switching our banking accounts to the Capitol One Bank.”

You've been to The Capitol Grille a few times with Coryo, so when the maitre d greets you both with a smile and ushers you to a cozy table for two, while making the other patrons in line ahead of you wait, you're not surprised.

Coriolanus, like always, orders a bottle of the best wine and some glasses of water for you two. He also orders the go to appetizer for when you dine out at The Capitol Grille: shrimp cocktail. He also orders the usual for you two as well: the chef's suggestion of the slices filet mignon topped onions and wild mushrooms with cream spinach and au gratin potatoes. Oh, and he ordered the infamous Capitol made cheesecake the restaurant’s known for.

You didn't mind him doing the ordering since you two always got the same thing every time he took you out to eat at The Capitol Grille. You'd be shocked if he didn't insist on ordering, truth be told.

The waiter delivered both your glasses of water, wine, and the large shrimp cocktail to share all on one tray. Once he finishes delivering the items and pouring the wine, he assured Coriolanus and you that your food would be out shortly and left.

Coriolanus is fixing you up a small plate of shrimp cocktail and engaging in small talk with you about your upcoming job as his right hand woman in the Citadel whenever Odysseus’ voice reaches your ear from nearby as he smiles disparagingly. “I see it didn't take you too long to move on, sweetheart. But I didn't think you'd be moving on with Satan, or is he who you've been cheating with.”

“Oh, Odysseus Odair, I wish I could say seeing you while out celebrating Y/N’s new job as my assistant is a pleasant surprise, but then I'd be lying and I make it my utmost priority not to lie to or around my childhood best friend.” Coriolanus said in a very cool, calm, and collective way that has just enough zing to bite.

“Your what?” The bronze haired man asked, his voice hitched up in shock.

“I told you that I attended the Academy, Odysseus. Maybe you should've believed me instead of insisting I wasn't on the same level as you and Coryo.” You told your neighbor and new ex while gesturing between him and your Coryo with your hand.

“He what?” Coriolanus blinked his eyes slowly, like an offended cat. It reminded you of a cat you had as a child. Looking at you, he said with so much disdain in his deep baritone, “That manwhore insulted you by insisting you weren't good enough to attend the Academy?”

“Coryo, let it go.” You told him in a whisper hiss while Odysseus’ sea-green eyes bounced between you and the platinum blonde man you're dining with very suspiciously.

“I will not let it go, darling. He insulted you.” Coriolanus whisper hissed back.

Well, looks like chivalry’s not dead at all.

“I have a business meeting I need to attend, Y/N, but I'll call you later so we can talk things out.” Odysseus told you before booking it away from your table (since he didn't want to be around Coriolanus) and towards the table his father Posieden Odair, Mr. Larimer (a wealthy politician and investor) and Mr. Hearst (a wealthy newspaper mogul) was sitting at; waiting for him.

“You better not answer your phone when he calls.” Coriolanus tells you while making himself a small plate of shrimp cocktail with jerky, aggravated movements.

Grabbing a piece of shrimp from your plate and dipping it into the red cocktail sauce, you tell him, “I’ll answer it if I want to, Coriolanus. My relationship’s none of your business.”

Tossing the serving spoon back into the middle of the extravagant crystal serving bowl, causing some of the red sauce to splash up. Coriolanus face skewed up as he watched you eat your piece of shrimp. Taking his and dipping it into the sauce, he darkly chuckled, “I see you're going to play little minx and punish me for my arrangement by having a fling with the sluttiest man in all of Capitol City.”

“What's good for the goose's good for the gander.” You simply smirk, causing the man sitting across from you to nearly choke on his shrimp.

And then, as he's coughing and trying not to die from shrimp going down the wrong windpipe, Odysseus loudly tells somebody at his table to ‘Shut the hell up!’ before storming away from the table, right past yours, and out of the restaurant.

Hmm…

You wonder what happened at his table.

Coriolanus Snow, ever the gentleman, used his pristine white cloth napkin to spit his piece of shrimp that nearly made him choke and die. Folding his napkin and placing it back on his lap, he seriously told you, “He's a spoiled brat; I hope you get seeing him to punish me out of your system real fast because I don't like sharing what's mine, Y/N.”

“Last time I checked I didn't belong to you.” You smugly retorted while eating another piece of your shrimp cocktail.

Coriolanus leaned in close, nearly crossing the table, and declared in a low, dark timbre, “You’ve always been mine, baby. And, as you know, I'm going to ruin a family just to make you my wife; First Lady.”

Tags: @kuroosbby001 @purriteen @poppyflower-22 @meetmeatyourworst @whipwhoops @bxtchopolis @readingthingsonhere @savagenctzen @ryswritingrecord @erikasurfer @tulips2715 @universal-s1ut @thesmutconnoisseur @squidscottjeans @sudek4l @wearemadeofstardust0 @mashiromochi @gracieroxzy @belcalis9503 @shari-berri @aoi-targaryen @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons @qoopeeya @mfnqueen1 @permanentlyexhaustedpigeon88 @v-love @swiftieblyth @joyfulyouthlover @harvey-malfoy @chxrrybomb22 @marvel-hiddles-stark @xjinnix @devils-blackrose @zombicupcake3 @dcylight-fciry @jacesvelaryons @tempt-ress @cherrybaird @blurpleuni-squid

[idakyrie]

(This is part of an AU and a LOT OF TEXT asdfg) WHAT IF.... That weird deformed shape of Fake Peppino (AKA Bruno) is actually that way because of a brain problem (known as TBI)? That would explain that peculiar way of behaving (Silly? Goofy? Childish? Doesn't think straight? Doesn't know what he's doing? Almost 0 common sense, that almost permanent expression on his face, that strange way of moving... He is doing his best to stay on his feet and not melt completely (even if it shows a bit), he can barely speak coherently, among many things (WE MUST PROTECT HIM).

I'd like to think that the brain is the only organ he has, because the rest is just... Mmh, slime? amalgam? xD, it could be a HUMAN brain that Pizzahead (his creator) got (I like to think he is actually someone insane in a bad way and too different when it comes to his lab, just pretending to smile, hints of psychopath), that brain belonged to another chef, here I clarify about getting 2 adns: Peppino and Bruno (this last I mean the one from the abandoned pizzeria and yes, he is dead, where the hell Pizzahead was going to get that brain from? Actually dead for trusting a humanoid pizza)

So Fake Peppino has 2 adns? Yeah, that makes sense... Although Peppino and him don't look quite the same (Although Pizzahead's goal was that, to be the perfect impersonator), except for the clothes BUT here comes my favorite part, his stable form. 

Actually, his brain problem can be treated, he would still have 2 forms: stable and unstable, this unstable form is the one we all know, it would be present whenever he feels threatened, in danger or any other negative emotion (although he can take any form whenever he wants and be a mix of both forms).

Some history: Bruno is the first "clone" to be created, it went well, everything was perfect and one more minion... UNTIL... Pizzahead has a complicated, abusive, stupid, manipulative and ignorant attitude, basically he never treated him well, it started with scolding and even abuse (And yup! it was Pizzahead himself who caused him great injury) Why? He is a demanding and perfectionist guy, the clone had to come out EQUAL to Peppino (the irony is that he hates him and only does it to fuck up his life, to be able to replace him with some of the SO MANY clones out there) at the time he thought it was a GOOD IDEA to mix both adns and come out the same as the original, I repeat that this guy is an idiot?

Something funny is that after that he made other prototypes of clones (Classified as second generation idk) but these... None came out well, they are aberrations and can be found in a frozen chamber, he doesn't want to relive that moment and kept trying until he finally succeeded, the famous Peppino clones that can be found everywhere in the lab, inferior versions, weaker and more animal behavior than the first "clone".

Here comes another problem, Pizzahead paid more attention and was nicer to those clones, making Bruno jealous and annoyed, he never received a good treatment from him (Still he was loyal) and he had to fix and clean up all the atrocities the clones did, that means ALL the time, he could not defend himself and lived in silence, developing a great hatred towards them, precisely his behavior changes drastically to the most aggressive, just hearing a "croak" makes him angry (MODO BERSEK GOES BRR)

Many years enduring physical and emotional pain until he ends up in what? In an abandoned pizza restaurant? Just him being abandoned being very bad in all aspects? Completely alone for years, the only contact he had with others were those clones that invaded his "new home" (explaining why there are so many peppino corpses in that pizzeria).

(that girl in the image is an oc of mine hshs)

Bruno still has that silly and innocent personality, sensitive but at the same time disturbing if something bothers him. Paternal sense, playful and a big fan of Peppino, sometimes he annoys him by imitating him HAHA. Does he keep that frog behavior? YES! It's not as obvious as the clones because he knows how to control it. 

At the beginning he doesn't like to be touched, after all the problems he went through he doesn't even know if there are good people in this world, so gaining Bruno's trust is a bit complicated but if you talk nice to him (as you would do with your pet XD) the interaction will be effective. 

Does he have traumas? Besides he doesn't want to see Pizzahead and the clones again, or there will be a massacre, it's the first time someone is nice to him, he's afraid of abandonment and losing the little progress he has made... AND NEVER EVER SEE OR HEAR ANYTHING RELATED TO ANY LABORATORY AGAIN, his life was hell there, anything related either scares or angers him.

If you have any questions, you can ask and also, sorry if there are errors in my English, it is not my native language, I hope you can understand ;w;

[acknowledge-reigns]

Swipe Right | Roman Reigns x Black!fem OC (18+)

Description: Iris meets up with Roman at Smackdown but it doesn't go exactly how she expected.

Chapter: 2/6

Face Claim: Ciara

Warnings: Mention of alcohol use, strong language, flirting, making out and foolin' around, love bites, hints at a D/s dynamic.

Word count: 1,378

This is set in an AU in which the og bloodline reunited before wrestlemania 40 and Roman retained. As always my stories are about Roman, not Joe. While there is not smut in the first couple of chapters, there will be in others. This is very much an 18+ BDSM based romance with some comedy thrown in there. You have been warned.

Chapter 1 can be found on my Masterlist.

Iris stood in front of her mirror, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. Her sisters and daughters were helping her get ready for the big night, making sure she looked her best for Smackdown. She wore a little black dress with a black and red jacket and matching heels, wanting to rep the bloodline without wearing Roman's merch and looking like a crazed fan.

"You look gorgeous, sis," Kiley said, fussing over Iris' hair, having just obsessively laid her edges for her.

Jax nodded in agreement. "Yeah, Roman won't be able to take his eyes off of you."

Imani, who was sitting on the bed, grinned. "He's gonna love you, Mom."

Amira, who was sitting quietly on the bed alongside her sister, looked up at her mother. "Are you going to marry Roman?" she asked innocently.

Iris chuckled and shook her head. "No, sweetie, I'm not going to marry him," she said, "We're just going to meet and talk for a bit."

Amira looked a little disappointed, but then she smiled mischievously. "Well, if you do marry him, can I have his autograph?"

"Of course, baby. I'll make sure to get you an autograph." Iris chuckled.

The girls finished getting Iris ready, and soon it was time for her to leave. She hugged her daughters goodbye and promised to call them later to tell them goodnight before they went to bed.

"Good luck, sis," Kiley said, giving her a thumbs up.

"Have fun!" Jax added, winking.

Iris took a deep breath and headed out the door, feeling a mix of anticipation and nervousness about what the night would bring.

As Iris made her way to the arena, she couldn't help but feel a little overwhelmed. She had never been to a wrestling event before, and the sheer size of the arena was intimidating.

She gave the guard her name and stated that she was a guest of Roman Reigns. To her surprise they actually did let her in without a problem.

Once inside, she found herself in a sea of people, dressed in wrestling merch and chanting loudly. The energy was electric.

The guard led Iris through the crowded arena, past the various vendors and merchandise booths. She could feel the excitement in the air as the crowd waited for the show to start.

Finally, they arrived at what she could only assume is Roman's locker room. A large set of doors with his name on it. The guard knocked on the door and a voice from inside called out, "Come in!"

Iris took a deep breath and stepped inside the locker room, the guard taking his leave to give them privacy. Roman was sitting on a leather couch, his hair tied up in a slick man bun and wearing his usual merch shirt, sweats and Js. He looked up as she entered, and his eyes widened in surprise.

"You must be Iris.." he said, standing up and walking over to her.

Iris nodded, feeling a little starstruck as she looked up at Roman. He was even more handsome in person than in his pictures.

"Yes, that's me," she said, trying to keep her voice steady. "I'm sorry if I'm interrupting anything."

Roman smiled and shook his head. "No, you're not interrupting anything," he said, gesturing for her to sit down on the couch. "I'm just getting ready for the show."

She sat down next to him and the air was thick with tension. Iris could feel her heart racing in her chest.

Roman leaned back on the couch, studying Iris with an intense gaze. "So, you're the one who matched with me on Tinder," he said, a hint of a smirk on his face.

Iris chuckled and nodded. "Yeah, that was me," she said, feeling a little embarrassed. "I have to admit, I wasn't expecting to match with a professional wrestler."

Roman chuckled, "Look, I'm gon' be straight forward with ya. I got a bit.. intoxicated last night, my cousins set up the tinder profile and... here we are."

Iris couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment. She had been hoping that Roman had actually wanted to talk to her, but it turned out he was just being a silly drunk.

"Oh, I see," she said, trying to keep the disappointment out of her voice. "So you don't actually want to meet up with me?"

Roman shrugged, "It's not that I don't want to meet up with you, it's just... I'm a busy guy, ya know? I have a lot going on in my life right now."

He leaned forward, his eyes locking onto hers. "But hey, since you're here, why don't we make the most of it?"

Iris felt a flutter in her stomach as Roman moved closer to her. His gaze was intense, and she could feel the heat radiating off of his body.

"What do you have in mind?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

Roman leaned in even closer, his face just inches from hers. "Well, there's something I've been wanting to do ever since I saw your picture on Tinder," he said, his voice low and husky.

Iris felt a shiver run down her spine as Roman's lips brushed against her ear. "And what's that?" she asked, her heart racing in her chest.

Roman pulled back and looked her in the eyes, a wicked glint in his gaze. "I want to kiss you," he said bluntly.

Iris' breath caught in her throat as she stared up at Roman. The thought of kissing him made her feel both nervous and excited.

"Are you sure that's a good idea?" she asked, trying to sound confident but failing miserably.

Roman chuckled, "Why not? We're both adults, and we're here together. Besides, I think you're gorgeous."

He reached out and gently tucked a loose curl behind her ear, his fingers lingering on her skin.

Iris couldn't deny the chemistry between them. The way Roman was looking at her, towering over her, the way his touch made her skin tingle... it was all too much.

"Okay," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Then kiss me."

Roman smiled and leaned in, his lips brushing against hers in a soft, gentle kiss. It was electric, and Iris felt a jolt of desire course through her body.

He deepened the kiss, his tongue exploring her mouth as he pulled her closer.

Iris wrapped her arms around Roman's neck, kissing him back with equal passion. She had never been kissed like this before, and it was making her head spin.

Roman's hands roamed over her body, his touch sending shivers down her spine. Iris felt a rush of heat between her legs. She couldn't believe how turned on she was just from kissing him.

Roman's hands continued to explore her body, his fingers tracing the curve of her hips and the swell of her breasts. He leaned in to kiss her neck, his lips trailing down to her collarbone.

Iris moaned softly as Roman's lips found her sensitive skin. She tilted her head back, giving him better access to her neck.

He began to suck and nibble on her skin, leaving a trail of redish marks behind. His hands moved to the hem of her shirt, his fingers slipping underneath to touch her bare skin.

Roman pulled back from her neck, his eyes dark with desire. "You're so soft... so submissive," he said, his voice low and commanding. "I like that."

Iris couldn't help but feel a thrill at Roman's words. She loved the idea of being submissive, letting someone else take control for once.

They continued to kiss, their mouths moving together in a heated frenzy. Roman's hands roamed over her body, his touch possessive and dominant.

Roman suddenly pulled away from the kiss, his expression neutral. "Well, it was nice meeting you," he said, his voice calm and controlled. "Enjoy the show."

Iris was left feeling confused and a little hurt. She had thought that they had a connection, or at least the start of one, but now Roman was acting like nothing had happened. She was speechless.

"Wiseman!" Roman called for Heyman, "Show Iris to her seat."

Heyman appeared from the shadows, a smile on his face. "Of course, My tribal chief. Right this way, Miss Iris."

Previous chapter ●◉◎◈◎◉● Next chapter

[12-seconds-to-live]

(Un)Lost: The art of war

Pairing: F12022/3!Grid! x Fem!Driver!Oc

Warnings: DNF’s, angst, a little bit of love, episodes of anxiety, Seb’s retirement, harsh words.

DRIVE TO SURVIVE SEASON 5 - EP. 1  THE NEW ERA

“It’s freezing in here” I said while I was puting my cap in my head, my Williams cap, ready to sit in the famous black chair of Netflix. “Thank you Netflix for make this possible, Bahrain is being cooking itself now” The producer chuckle.

“So, we’re going to let you introduce you and then make you a few questions. Everything clear?”

“Sure” I look for a better position in the chair and look to the camera “My name is Charlotte Robyn-Jones and I’m engineer strategist for Williams Racing Formula One Team” I said with a smile on my face. I saw the people in the back laugh and I copy the action

“You can’t lie to Netflix, kid”

“I think I just did ... Anyway, 1, 2, 3, Monday to Friday, My name is Charlotte Robyn-Jones, I’m 23 and I’m a race driver for Williams Racing Formula One Team” I tilt my head to one side and laugh “Cool”

“So cool. What’s for you to be at the top of the game right now?, obviously avoiding the question that you must  be bored about” 

“Being a woman is fantastic, except for that thing every month but I can’t complain. I have to say that it’s not easy. You can dream of some things happening but all the same time, If you really wanted, the answer is get up and look for your better options to make things happen.” I gassped and look down and to the camera. “I remenber when I told my dad that I wanted to give it a try in karting and I wasn’t even 6, he looked at me like  I was some sort of silly muppet but then he make me promise that I will do great in school and then he will help me with the racing carreer I wanted. The rest is history”

A series of videos of her carreer show up, from her beginning in karts, F4, F3 and her successfull 2021 in F2 finishing as champion, smiling faces all around and obviously a very proud Charlotte.

“You just mention your dad. What about other members in your family? Friends or even a boyfriend?” I look at the producer with a side smile

“You guys are really something else, right?” they laugh “I’m single ready to mingle. I don’t talk to much about my family, I like to be private about that. I almost dropped all this. My family is my priority and two years ago I lost my mom due cancer so...”

“I’m sorry we don’t...”

“No, it’s okay” I smiled to the camera “She’s not here but I still talk about her like she’s just in the back of the house screaming to the dog for being so silly, she’s still here and I know she’s proud” 

“Sure she is. Just to finish ... Any expectations for your team. Everybody wanted to see you in a bigger team like Mercedes or Ferrari, did you hear any rumors about that?”

“Well, certanly I did hear, but the thing is, mmm, I always believe that If you wanna prove yourself is better to start from the very bottom, understand the little things and then you’ll find success, almost glory. Being in this sport is so tricky, like, one day you won in Monaco and the next day you’re out of the points or feeling that all your pasion is going out to your body” I see everybody’s faces like I was saying something fascinating “This is sport is like war, you better watch out your back ‘cause even your own team could kill you.”

“So, this is your year to discover yourself?”

“Yes, my bingo card this year will imply me being playing the art of war that is F1″

“Okay Charlotte, this is all for today. We’ll see you along the year”

“Thanks and don’t spill my secrets. Snitches end up in ditches, they say” 

I go out of the room straight to the Williams garage. Sure thing is that this year is going to be wild, after what happened last year between Red Bull and Mercedes, man, I really don’t want to be any member of those teams.

“Hello Ms. Jones, everything all right with Netflix?” My PR, Ava asked. She was in Alex side of the garage talking to other people

“Yeah, they’re like school girls” She laugh

“Yeah, sometimes. Today is media day so since you’re ready with your Williams merch, we can start signing some caps and cards and then continue with your schedule. Or do you want to start with press?”

“Up to you really, better doing the easiest first then I’ll face the sharks” We walk to a conference room when I found Alex with his girlfriend and his PR. Last year I met the girl in a tournament in the UK and we have been really close since then.

“Oh hello you, my girl and my boy rocking together this year” Lily said and hug me, while Alex put a false angry face

“Nice to see you Lily and yes, we’re going to rock or better than that” I said she smack Alex shoulder

“See, I tould you she has spirit!”

“I know, I think that everybody saw that video of her running along the track after her win in last year championship”

That video.

Well, you don’t win F2 championship many times in your life, right?

“I don’t know what are you talking about”

“Everybody know you do”

“Shh” I sit next to the pile of merch with my face on it. It’s 9:45 so I have time ‘till lunch and more interviews.

INTERVIEW ROOM @14:20

W/ Lando Norris, Carlos Sainz, Lewis Hamilton and Sebastian Vettel

“Don’t be nervous, ok? I’m not gonna tell what to answer, you’re smart so answer like a pro”

“Like a pro? So I can say <<inchident>> or even ask about the interviewers plans for the summer?” I showed Ava a side smiled

“Please don’t and you’re going to be in between, your name is on the sofa” I enter the room and saw the amount of people organized in the back of the room with notepads, cameras and tricky looks.

“So, welcome everybody to the second session here in Bahrain, we are here with Lando Norris from McLaren, Carlos Sainz from Ferrari, Charlotte Jones from Williams, Lewis Hamilton from Mercedes and Sebastian Vettel from Aston Martin. Welcome to the drivers, we’re going to have a round of questions for this sesion, if that’s ok” I look at the others who nod.

“Hello, this question is for Charlotte” Great. “We want to hear your first impresions of your new team, if you have the chance to meet the other drivers and expectations for your rookie season”

I tried to smiled but I suddenly felt like I wanna dissapear and the lights we’re too bright so I put on my glasses and I hear Lewis laugh and how he copy my action and take the microphone “It’s sunny outside so there’s no need to put the  light to bright, thanks guys” And squeezed my hand.

“Yeah, lights, mmm, almost everybody saw me in the car last year when I met the team and my teammate. Everything has been great so far, mmm I spent half of the holidays with the Sainz family, there been close to my mom’s family so, yeah, Carlos and his trainer just help me to get in better shape for this rodeo, something that I’m grateful for” I fist bump with Carlos and laugh “And expectations, well, I prefer to see how it goes after the race, I sent my ideas and questions the past month so I know now that the car is fast and let’s see If we can put Williams on the top again”

Sebastian took the microphone and look at me “Do you know about engineering?”

“Yeah, I finished my degree in mechanical engineering last month, obviously online, so...”

“That’s impresive, kid” answer Sebastian

“Am I the only one scared now?” Ask Lando to everybody. Everybody laugh at that. The interview session went smoothly and not many questions were to me, since Lewis was in the room, the events of november where reminded. Questions about strategies and upgrades for Ferrari and Aston Martin and the chances of McLaren of getting a podium this year. After that, the session ended, Carlos stopped me.

“Welcome officially, girasol” He hug me in the process and we heard a cough

“Are you good, man?” 

“Since my friend here it’s so disrespectfull, nice to meet you, yo soy Lago” 

“Nunca le enseñaste bien español” I said laughing to the spaniard

“Ciertamente él fue un terrible alumno”

“Please don’t. Back to a common language” I smiled to him and oh boy! such beautiful eyes

“Charlotte, rookie, friend of this guy, fan of dogs, chocolate cake and be on my xbox the whole day” I shake his hand and he gasp

“Marry me”

“In a few years, maybe” I look to Carlos who look at me with wide eyes

“I don’t want him on family holidays, ten moths are too much now” As we were walking through the paddock, a few photographers and fans aproach us. Since Carlando were more famous that I am, so I go straight to my motorhome to lay down for a bit.

What a day.

A few headers on instagram and twitter about the conference

2022 ROOKIE READY TO DRIVE AND BEING A THREAT

CHARLOTTE ROBYN-JONES, NEW SENSATION IN THE PADDOCK

IS THIS THE YEAR OF WILLIAMS?

Mind clear and then start proving myself.

I’m a girl, yes, but right now I feel that I have a chance to be like them, it’s ny time.

A champion, one ready to fight.

I finished my day with more media duties, to 6 pm I was going to wait for Carlos who offer a ride to the hotel. While I was waiting in the parking lot, the papaya pair waved at me.

“Hiya, you must me Charlotte. I’m Daniel, the one with good looks in the team” He said with a smile.

“Nice to meet you Daniel, how you guys doin’?”

“All good, we’re heading to the hotel, ready to kick asses tomorrow?” I saw how Lando seems certanly interested in the question

“I’m feeling normal, but yeah, let’s see tomorrow. My driver arrived so... see ya” I waved at them when Carlos opened his car. Daniel and Lando saw the couple leaving the parking lot when the australian looks at the youngest

“Say it”

“What?” 

“Why do you look so shock around her? I mean, even Max who lives in a rock knew about her”

“I’ve been friends of Carlos and I never see her around, it’s weird”

“Ooow, the kid is jealous of the newie” Daniel started laughing and going to his car

“Man stop... I’m not jealous and also I’m a man!”

BAHREIN CIRCUIT @13:45 - FP1 & FP2

“Radio check, please” my race engineer said. Williams had the chance to start fourth in the two practices after Alfa Romeo, Ferrari, Red Bull and Alpine.

“ And I thought my heart was detached, from all the sunlight of our past, but she's so sweet, she's so pretty, does she mean you forgot about me? Yeah, yes, I’m going to send you my playlist for the race, what dou you think?” 

“We’ll  evaluate that after practice”

“It’s not a no, I wil take it”

“Ok Charlotte, 30 seconds to start heating the tyres and whenever you ready, your flying lap”

“Copy”

“Now, we’ll have Williams coming out the pits to start practice, first our rookie Charlotte, fresh out the oven as F2 champion. She’s heating the tyres and has 15 minutes to do a few laps and see how that car goes”

On the broadcast, the faces of the team principals were on screen, with their expectations on the girl and see how she start.

“Ok Charlotte, you can start in the next lap with Leclerc and Ocon in front of you” I pressed the copy bottom. Here I go.

One thing about me it’s that I brake late but my left foot likes to keep itself on the throttle. A girl have to give it all, right?

“I feel like I’m watching the Mercedes W11 all over again. Wow! I can see a future world champion, multiple times If she wanted too”

“That car is fast” said Christian Horner looking to Max’s engineer “What the hell?” 

“Definitely it is” 

“Toto, even when she brake the car doesn’t go below 170 km/h. what?” Lewis and Bono stand beside the team principal of Mercedes.

“I think that your eight championship have to wait a bit, I can’t believe my eyes”

“That girl is the real Toretto, don´t you think?” asked Yuki to the french man

“I wanna throw myself down a hill to be honest” 

“What the f***?, which car is that?, I almost get dizzy” asked Charles over the radio

“That was a Williams, the rookie, she’s 3 seconds faster than you”

“This is going to be a long season. F***”

“Well done Charlotte. With his pace you can certanly win every race this season”

“Haha, good job to everybody from those in the factory to the ones in the garage. What about Alex?”

“As good as you, the difference is 0.337″

“That’s good”

“Yes, we’ll wait for you in the garage”

As I parked, I could heard the applauses from my team and the people around the garage. 

And yes.

A very long season ahead.

--

intro

That was fun. 

For those who doesn’t speak spanish, here the translation:

Girasol: sunflower.

Nunca le enseñaste bien español: you never taught him Spanish well.

Ciertamente él fue un terrible alumno: He certainly was a terrible student.

Hope you liked it :)

[redwinetalks]

I Won’t Let You Sink

Chapter 1

Word Count: 4k

Pairing: Finnick x Fem!OC

Warnings: angst, thoughts of some self harm, miss girl has to sell her body

Summary: Silk Fabelle is the winner of the 68th annual Hunger Games and she’s finishing up her victory tour. She meets Finnick then returns home leading to a lil chit chat with Snow.

*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°

The Capitol was the complete opposite of District 8. Full of bright colors and energy instead of dull and lifeless. Everything is perfectly placed and decorated. Artistically groomed trees and bushes. The Capitol elite expect me to think of this as a blessing. How much of an honor it is to get to visit. To be invited to these lavish parties and be dressed to the nines. But with each conversation I’m dragged into, I’m counting the seconds until I can go home and no longer be stuck with the people who use my trauma as a way to get off.

“Did you hear me?” I’m snapped back to reality by the woman who’s been speaking to me about my victory. Her blue and purple hair is tied up in an intricate bun. Her eyeshadow goes all the way to her temples and her eyebrows are adorned with jewels. To match her eccentric look, she’s wearing a bright purple gown that cinches her waist so much I wonder how she’s even breathing.

“Yes, sorry. I couldn’t help getting distracted by how beautiful everything looks tonight.”

“Oh, of course! I can’t even imagine having to live in that dreary district of yours. This must be such a culture shock. But, back to what I was saying. Your games! You really surprised us all. I mean, no one guessed that the little girl from 8 could win. A lot of people lost their bets after your victory. Don’t worry though, no one could stay upset about it. Not with how precious you are! You really are a doll just like they say!” A doll. That’s the pet name they’ve adorned me with. The Capitol’s doll they could dress up and play with however they so please.

“You’re going to be quite popular! But I must leave you, I need to get a little drink.” She gives me a wink and walks away. Im sure she’s off to purge and then continue to gorge herself.

When she’s gone I close my eyes and let out the deep sigh I’ve been holding. With each Capitol aristocrat I talk to I feel more and more suffocated. I grab a glass of wine and then move myself away from the crowd. This party is supposed to be dedicated to me to congratulate my huge “victory”. No one expected me to win. District 8 has a pretty poor relationship with the Capitol because of our rebelliousness. This kept me from getting any help from sponsors. It also didn’t help that I don’t look very strong, I’m shorter than most people my age, and the jobs back home don’t prepare us in the slightest for what’s to come in the arena. That’s not all true, though. I gained enough strength by carrying large amounts of supplies to and from the factories. Boxes full of fabric or Peacekeeper uniforms are much heavier than people think. I used my knowledge of different bugs and berries, used to make dyes, to help me keep from poisoning myself in the arena. My mentor Cecilia told me since I know how to sew, stitch, and weave that I have a good eye and a steady hand. She taught me how to make traps that I could use against other tributes or to catch food. She helped me learn how to use throwing knives, her weapon of choice. That proved to be significantly helpful during the bloodbath. The majority of my games I spent hiding. My arena was a rainforest so it wasn’t difficult to disguise myself. I was then able to trick some tributes with poisonous berries or trapping them in a net made up of vines and leaves. I’m sure it was a riveting show for everyone glued to the broadcast. Not at all traumatizing for them, only for the 17 year old.

“Not enjoying the festivities?” I’m slightly startled when he comes up and stands next to me. Finnick O’dair. The so called Capitol “darling” and youngest to ever win the games. “I’m sorry, I’m really sorry. Didn’t meant to catch you off guard.” He laughs.

“And what if I’m not?” I sip my wine and look at him, deadpanned.

“Don’t worry, it only gets worse from here.” He lets out a another light laugh and I hum in response.

“Thanks for the warning. I figured as much.” I think about walking away, but there’s something about him that compels me to stay put. It’s disarming. I don’t figure a Career would be too enjoyable to hang around, yet he has this air to him that I can’t walk away from. Maybe it’s how his tan skin and perfect smile are even more breathtaking in person. I could just be getting hypnotized by his beauty and charm. Which, I’m positive he uses to his advantage. He then turns to face directly in front of me and holds his hand out.

“If you’ll let me, I was hoping I could steal you away for a dance.” He takes my hand and gives it a small peck as I just look at him. I raise my eyebrows in surprise.

“Are you trying to charm me, Finnick O’dair?” He flashes me a perfect smile.

“And what if I am, Silk Fabelle?” He moves his face closer to mine and his voice, as smooth as velvet, is just a whisper. He smells like salty seawater and citrus. The hair on my neck stands up and I can feel the goosebumps creeping up my body. Maybe I am being hypnotized.

“I suppose you can. Hopefully it’ll keep everyone else from talking to me about my riveting games.” I say after clearing my throat and awkwardly adjusting my stance.

“You sure you’re not trying to keep me all to yourself, darling?” I stop and blankly stare at him. He rolls his eyes at me, “I’m kidding. Shall we?” I slowly nod and he escorts me back through the crowd of people.

“So is there a particular reason you decided to make my acquaintance?” I question him. No other previous victors have come to talk with me, at least not yet. It’s just been one vulture after the next. Maybe in his eyes he just saw a damsel in distress that he needed to rescue. He wouldn’t be incorrect per se.

“Maybe I just wanted to finally see your beauty in person. The broadcast is one thing, but there’s nothing like the real deal.” He says when we find a spot on the floor. He takes my waist and gracefully starts to guide me. It’s as if it’s second nature to him. I don’t know how to feel about his flirtations and it makes me a bit uneasy. I don’t know if I can trust him, but I’m not in the games anymore. He’s not another tribute trying to kill me before I kill him first. It sounds like he means what he says, so maybe I’m just overthinking it.

“You sure are quite the charmer, but I’m having a hard time believing that’s the only reason.”

“Oh please, I can’t just dance with a pretty girl? Must I have a motive?” I can feel his thumb rubbing my back. That plus the dancing is making me dizzy. My head feels like it’s spinning, but it could just be the wine causing that effect.

“Do you?” I press him, trying to remain focused, and he looks at me so softly.

“I just thought you might’ve been struggling to stay afloat. This place..these people..they’ll drown you. To them we aren’t real people we’re just toys. Entertainment. I remember how I felt when this was my party and I guess I just didn’t want you to have to go through that alone.” The playful banter has dropped and he speaks so genuinely. He’s not at all what I expected. I’ve only ever looked at careers with aversion. The way they suck up to the Capitol and get almost doted on in return. But they’re still district citizens. Even if they are on better terms with the Capitol, it doesn’t mean they aren’t part of this continuous punishment. They’re pawns in this game like everyone else, they just play differently.

“So you’re telling me no one whisked you away to save you at your victory party” I tilt my head when asking.

“Afraid not, sweetheart.” Even with his flirtatious banter back on I can see that there’s a sadness in his eyes. Like this confidence that he radiates is just an illusion to keep him from sinking. After winning the games they make you think you finally get to be free. You can finally be happy and you don’t have to live in fear. But the games never end. I can see it from the way Finnick looks at me. After you win the torment just continues. There is no freedom.

“I’m sorry you were alone. I appreciate, though, you being here for me even though you don’t know me. I hope..maybe..I can do the same for you.” I say that last sentence quietly. As if I’m not sure if I want him to hear it. I’m not quite sure if I mean it. He squeezes my hand a bit and softly smiles. His dimples showing only slightly.

“I can already see my days getting brighter.” He releases my waist once the song ends and brushes a hand through his golden blonde hair. The lights reflecting off of him in the most picture perfect way. “Unfortunately, I have to go, but it was lovely meeting you Silk.” He kisses my hand once more and walks away after I say goodbye. I’m left feeling frozen in place like a trance has just been lifted. Then, almost immediately I’m being pulled into another meaningless conversation with Capitol citizens. I try to stay present to what’s going on around me, but my mind keeps going back to Finnick O’dair.

*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°

I’m on the train with Cecilia, finally going home after the victory tour. I’ve been sitting at the table moving my fork around my breakfast, too distracted to eat. I haven’t been able to push Finnick out of my mind. There is just something about him that is so alluring and mysterious that my teeth clench from trying to figure him out. I can’t help getting frustrated at myself for thinking only of him. Maybe it’s just because he’s so different from anyone I’ve ever met. His aura is so captivating and it’s like he knows just how to wrap you around his finger.

“How was last night?” Cecilia comes up behind me and takes my plate.

“I wasn’t finished.” I turn and look at her and she rolls her eyes.

“You’ve been pushing that blueberry around with your fork for 10 minutes. You’re finished.” Annoyingly, she’s right. I’m not even hungry anymore. I felt full after just a couple bites. I’ve only been able to eat small meals since leaving the arena.

“Last night was wonderful” she lets out a small laugh at my sarcastic reply.

“Did you meet any of the past victors? It’ll help having some of them close by.” I look down at the table where my plate was.

“I met Chaff and Seeder. They were nice, well, Chaff was a bit..overly friendly..but Seeder was kind. I was told Haymitch would be an ass, but I thought he was alright. Maybe just a bit abrasive.” I shrug. Cecilia hums in response while tapping her fingers on the table. I slightly glance up at her and she looks off and smiles.

“You seem to be leaving a certain person out.” I just look at her. “He’s much more genuine than people give him credit for. You should continue to get to know him. You’re still making allies you know, it doesn’t matter that you’re no longer in the arena.” I nod and turn to look out the window.

The only good thing about being on this train for so long is that I can look at all the trees. I can get lost in them. It brings me some sense of peace with my thoughts being so loud. I don’t know how I’m supposed to go back to normal. How I’m supposed to just go home and move on. How am I supposed to sleep peacefully each night when there are kids that are dead because of me? I’m not. That’s exactly the point. I’m supposed to feel like my insides are eating me alive and have these nightmares. That’s how Snow wants us to feel. He knows that the games will leave you forever traumatized and he loves it. He’s sick and cruel and twisted.

My nails have drawn blood on my arm from gripping myself so tightly. When I get up to grab a napkin, I realize we’re arriving at District 8. I thought I’d be excited to be home but I just feel numb. Nothing is going to be the same and it terrifies me.

*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°

“You’re home” My mother says so softly. She runs up to me and wraps me in a tight hug when I walk into our new house in Victor’s Village. She cradles my head and rubs my back. The comfort she brings me is instant and I feel like I could collapse into her arms. Maybe I will be okay as long as she’s with me.

For my whole life I’ve only had my mother. I don’t remember my dad. He died when I was very young, but I’ve never felt like something was missing without him. I don’t feel his absence. When my father was 16 his older brother was reaped into the games and his death was so painful, that he swore to never have kids. He didn’t want to bring a child into a world where they could be put through something so heinous and vile, but he met my mother and accidents happen. My mother was anxious of course, but she still wanted to have me. She told me that when she realized she was pregnant with me, my father changed. Like some switch had been flipped. He became a completely different person. He was no longer kind, he drank, and he would have these sudden fits of rage. Mom tried to stay with him. To see if he would go back to the way he was. To see if he was just processing everything in some excessively horrible way, but he only got worse when I was born. So she kicked him out. When I was a bit older she told me that he had been shot by a Peacekeeper for some drunken altercation just days later.

My father didn’t want me and I don’t need him. I don’t feel his absence. All I feel is the love and protection that my mother has given me since I was born. She has never made me feel unwanted or like a burden. She is the strongest person I know and means more to me than anything in this world. If it wasn’t for her, I know I wouldn’t have gotten out of that arena.

“I missed you” I muffle into her shoulder. She puts her hands on my face and moves me to look directly at her.

“I missed you, too, my beautiful girl.” She then kisses me on the forehead, “Come with me. I want to show you want I’ve done with the place and then we’ll eat dinner.” She ushers me around the house showing me the different curtains and blankets she’s made. Most of the blankets she knit in our old home while I was in the arena. She told me that was the only thing she could do to keep from losing herself. While I was on my victory tour she sewed the curtains and a new bedspread for me. It’s a beautiful plum color and it makes the room much more cozy and inviting. Mom and I always try our best to make our home full of color to contrast how grey the district is. That way whenever we get home from a long day in the factories it’s an immediate breath of fresh air. We can almost instantly feel the dread of the day lift off our shoulders.

“You seemed to keep yourself busy” I say as she shows me the pillows in the living room.

“What else was I supposed to do to pass the time?” I laugh and smile so lovingly at her. It’s the first time I’ve been happy since getting reaped. I feel an overwhelming amount of relief that I never thought I’d get.

When she’s finished with the tour I follow her into the kitchen and sit at the table. We eat in a comfortable silence. Mom has always known whether I wanted to talk or not. She never tries to pry unless she knows it’ll help. It’s the first time in the while no one has expected anything of me.

A few days pass and I finally start to get a routine going. My mom goes off to work, thankfully not in the Peacekeeper factory, a different one where she makes an assortment of clothing and I start my morning by going just past the border to the shoreline. It’s the only place where grass grows since it’s far away from all the industrial fumes. I like to sit on the rocky beach and listen to the waves. I bring my sketchbook to work on designing clothes to make for the school children since I have the money to now. It’s something to do to keep me busy and help me feel like I’m doing something to help our community.

The walk home is long, but peaceful. I say hello to those moving on from one job to the next. One of the worst things that the Capitol does do the citizens in 8 is make everyone work long, grueling hours. When school lets out for the day the kids don’t get to go home and play. If there’s free time it means there’s time to work. Our labor is exploited and it’s unforgivable.

When I walk into the house it feels wrong. The air isn’t peaceful, it’s unsettling. It’s smells sickly sweet like roses. Everything seems to be in order, but the door to the study is ajar. I put down my bag and slowly walk through the hall making my way to the open door.

“There’s no need to sneak around in your own home. Please, come join me.” His voice is ice cold and it sends shivers up my spine.

“President Snow” I stiffly walk inside the study, “I apologize. I wasn’t expecting anyone to be home.” He’s sitting at the desk that hasn’t been touched since we moved it.

“Sit, I have some matters to discuss with you.” He gestures to the chair on the other side of the desk and I sit down, “I hope you enjoyed your victory tour.”

“Yes, sir. I did.” I clear my throat my uncomfortably and cross my arms to try and ground myself. I attempt to keep myself from digging my nails into my skin.

“Good, I’m pleased to hear that. I’ve heard lovely things about you. You’re well liked. Many of my colleagues have taken an interest towards you.”

“An interest, sir?” A pit opens in my stomach.

“Yes, Miss Fabelle. A sizable interest, in fact. And this is something that I cannot ignore. You see, these are the kinds of colleagues that sponsor the games and events such as your victory party.” He says as if it’s something I even wanted. He stands and starts to pace around the desk. The overwhelming smell of roses wafts back and forth with each turn. I can feel the nausea starting to grow. “The desire for you has grown quite large and I would hate to disappoint. I understand where they’re coming from. You are indeed a beautiful young woman. So, will you cooperate?” I could’ve gagged right then. He hasn’t said it outright, but I understand him clearly. These people want me. They want my body. His sinister smile grows when he notices how much I’m gripping onto my arms.

“I don’t have much of a choice, do I?” I say looking down at my lap. I know I don’t, but a small part of me hopes that if I ask he won’t make me. But that’s just a silly dream. To believe that I could have a choice in any of this. My body isn’t mine. My life isn’t mine. It all belongs to him.

“Of course you have a choice, Miss Fabelle.” He sits back down and my head shoots up to look him in the eye. “But certain choices have consequences. And it would be very unfortunate for perhaps, your mother, to deal with the consequences of your actions.” He sits back down, clearly satisfied with how this talk is going.

The nausea is only getting worse. My mother. He would kill my mother. The only person I have. The only person that I love. Not only is she important to me, she’s important to this district. She’s always been a strong force in the community. She helps those in need in any way she can. She stands up for what she believes in. She’s part of the rebellion that may or may not even come. If something were to happen to her it would end me, but it would also impact so many of those around me. I couldn’t live with myself if something were to happen to her.

“I understand, sir.” I speak so softly, so defeated.

“Good, I’m very pleased.” He stands up to leave, but not before leaving the flower from his coat pocket on the desk. I walk with him to the front door, trying to hold back the tears that are threatening to fall, and he takes a small look around the space. “Thank you for meeting with me, Miss Fabelle. I hope you are enjoying your new home. You seem to have settled right in. It’s very…eclectic. Oh, and I almost forgot to congratulate you on your victory. You did very well. Until next time.” He smiles so sickeningly and then finally leaves. How kind of him to congratulate me. As if him being proud would somehow fill me with such joy and satisfaction.

The nausea finally hits me with full force and I run to the bathroom to empty the contents in my stomach. The smell of stale roses still fills the air and it continues to make me gag. Once I feel well enough to get up, I brush my teeth and head to my room. I don’t even make it to my bed before I collapse, my sobbing overtaking my body. I feel so disgusting. How can this be allowed? How can they force me to kill other people’s children and then this? Is this what they think freedom is? I don’t have to worry about dying anymore, but I have to sell my body. And if I don’t, I have to fear for the life of the person I love most in the world? How am I supposed to do something so vile? How am I supposed to continue to survive like this? I feel like ripping my hair out. Like scratching at my skin until there’s nothing left but bone.

I rush into my bathroom and run a cold shower. I have to calm down. I have to find a way to live with this and keep my mother oblivious. The only way I know how to do that right now is by washing this whole afternoon off of me. Pretending none of it happened. And that’s what I’ll continue to do. When the time comes for me to visit the Capitol again, I’ll just pretend none of it is real. It’s all a dream. A sick, twisted, horrifying dream. And I’ll just have to go from there.

*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°*°

Thank you so much for reading chapter 1! This is my first ever fanfiction that I’ve written so I know it’s far from perfect. I’m growing with my writing as I go, but I hope you still enjoy it! I appreciate any kind feedback!

tag list <3 (I tagged some of y'all who just liked the related posts so I hope thats okay)

@ghoulbabs @lusy98 @marvelescvpe @simplymurdock @marcyss @miserablebl00d @wife-of-all-dilfs @mrsnancywheeler

Next Chapter!

[dehemetera]

Omg I can’t believe I am actually posting her. Pls enjoy my precious oc and her wardrobe

Below you can find all the head canons I wrote so far about her, the relationship she has with her squad and with the other significant captains/lieutenants of the Gotei 13

Mira Komamura

General head canons

‌originally from the 4th squad ( vet section) on her own request as she doesn't really like to throw hands.

was assigned to captain Komamura strict medical crew when almost no one knew about his real appearance; specifically, she was tasked with providing emotional support for Sajin's social anxiety.

‌”Captain!? How did you dare to hide that lovely snoot for such a long time?! "

yes, she was basically his emotional support puppy.

as it happens very often, Sajin grew fond for his emotional support puppy and decided to adopt her ( literally) as his brand new sister, then insisted to move her to the 7th.

western origins ( abuses this 🤌🏼 while talking ).

fav animal: humpback whale.

fav food: eats almost everything, watch your hands. Really, this girl is a few snacks away from being your best friend. But if she had to pick one, it'll probably be french fries, no dressing, just salt.

‌fav colour : cold hues in general, blue/green/ purple.

likes stars. Like a whole lot. You give her something with stars on, she's gonna love it. She hoards things with stars on it. She doodles them on everything at hand. When friends are sad, she scribbles a star on the palm of their hand.

‌" you're now under the sign of the good vibes star. You can now enjoy the rest of your day. You're welcome."

now imagine her doing this on Captain Zaraki's hand and Iba's cold sweats thinking how to tell the poor Sajin about his adopted sister's premature departure.

the good vibes star must work thou, cause Kenpachi just patted her head like she was a puppy and walked away. Iba thanked whatever god was listening at that moment.

sassy AF

sarcasm native speaker.

cracks 2.000.000 dirty jokes in between three regular words.

must focus not to drop inconvenient comments during each Captains/ lieutenant meetings.

looks like a black cat personality at the beginning.

turns into a weird dancing parrot when comfortable around someone.

has a ridiculous attention span.

world of the living connoisseur ( western side). Spent several decades studying it by living among living people.

terrible traditional swordsmanship skills.

got Jedi Lightsaber classes on Earth and actually developed a pretty efficient fighting style; ‌Iba is genuinely confused and slightly concerned about that but as long as it works...

likes to sing, not very good at that but still on the average ( usually makes silly dances while singing to underline the lyrics).

pretty skilled belly dancer ( which at some extent she uses in controlling her shikai) but definitely won't dance in public cause she's too shy for that .

very body positive about other people, excessively critic about her own body.

very good painter. She mostly paint with her hands (" advanced kindergarten art skills") but could also use sponges, pieces or paper or rags, leaves, basically everything but a brush;‌most of the times she just likes to make little silly doodles.

then she turns those doodles into stickers and spread them across the seireitei.

Byakuya Kuchiki knows the Shinigami women's association held a secret meeting in his mansion when he finds small stickers with sassy quotes around the house.

take her to the water park; She just loves it.

beach girl

just loves to hang out in the water

‌of course this is the perfect excuse for captain Hirako to make jokes about her liking to be wet

she never denied the statement. 👍🏼

excellent resistence to alcohol. Hard to get drunk.

when that does happen though, she just unleashes all the power or her sass/ sarcasm/ unhinged comments

this usually leads to pretty amusing express stand up comedy shows where she eventually ends up oversharing something she would've preferred to keep for herself

pretends not to remember anything if the topic is pointed out the day after

About the 7th squad

she was gladly welcomed as lieutenant by almost all the soldiers due to her sincere support towards former Captain Komamura

Those affectionate soldiers appreciate her chill attitude prone to jokes and fun as a good balance to Iba’s serious demeanour

She introduced music during workouts and trainings. Music from the west, of course

Now witness the fierce 7th brigade soldiers casually humming Bad Romance while doing their daily chores.

Since Mira’s office is the coziest and most decorated once, Iba started throwing Shinigami Men’s Association meetings inthere

For Iba’s birthday, Mira decided to gift him a new HQ for his meetings by renovating an old, unused warehouse in the barracks, asking Ikkaku some help to edible and renovate the old furniture

Connections

Sajin Komamura : regardless of his full on canine appearance he is still officially her brother by previous adoption. Mira still takes good care of him, she has the most luxurious dog bed in her office for him to stop by. She also got him one of those speaking buttons board humans give their dogs to communicate.

Tetsuzaemon Iba : is definitely like a dad. All of their interactions have the warm yet bickering feeling of a father/daughter dynamic, including: communication issues, dad being jealous and over protective of his precious daughter when men buzz around, not understanding slangs. Mira signed up for Iba’s fan club to show support to her dad.

Shunsui Kyoraku : calls her Mira-chan and likes to invite her to drink together. He pays great attention to her drunken monologues as they’re usually pretty straightforward and accurate analysis of the current state of the Seireitei. He definitely trusts her guts and intuition in picking up the overall morale of the squads. Mira also signed up for his fan club ‘cause he’s the big boss and deserves support. Nanao Ise firmly oppose this.

Rose Otoribashi: is the only one whom has ever seen Mira dance. They sometime shares music afternoons with Rose playing music and her using it to practice her dance. They have a very respectful and delicate bond revolving on mutual arts appreciation.

Izuru Kira: it took them some time to get along due to Kira being really private person. Now they’re kinda cool about each other and Mira often tries to cheer him up telling him the whole hole in the chest thing is metal AF.

Shinji Hirako: this man bribed Mira in joining his fan club by offering her a bag of weed infused gummy bears. It worked. They operate at the highest level of shenanigans and communicate almost exclusively by flirting. Bombastic side eyes darting across the captain’s council room during meetings when they know the other one would be just about dropping the sassiest sh*t that would cost them the career. Regularly hangs out together both in the Soul Society and on Earth. Part of their flirt jokes revolves around the fact they would gladly date each other (but never actually did that).

Momo Hinamori: was the first to show Mira support when she was promoted to lieutenant. Therefore, Mira loves this girl and brings her gifts, treats and loves spending time together for a tea time. They share a heavy betrayal trauma and do their best to support each other in their healing journey.

Renji & Rukia: if Iba is her dad, Renji is her bro and Rukia is the sister in law you actually like more than your own brother. The three of them have a weekly “world of the living pop culture” themed night to binge watch series and movie marathons. Burping competitions between Mira and Renji are mandatory and Rukia is the judge.

Matsumoto Ranjiku: these two can love and hate each other depending on the mood and the topic. Sometimes they look like besties laughing together and mutually complimenting , ten minutes later they’re fighting over something, usually Matsumoto habit of exploiting men using her beauty.

Kenpachi Zaraki: these two really get along for reasons. Mira actually feels safe around him cause who would ever dare to fuck around close to him? She also thinks he’s illegally hot but never dared to voice that, not she would ever try to approach him with intentions. She just likes to fantasize about that amazing mass of wonder. On Kenpachi’s side, he likes to have a new brat messing around him without being scared, it feels heartwarming and nostalgic, sometimes feeds her the same candies he used to buy for Yachiru. Since Mira’s birthday is right after Kenpachi’s, she usually shows up at the 11th barracks with a cake to share to celebrate both their birthdays.

Ikkaku Madarame: for the better time they’ve been knowing each other, he just passively tolerated her, enjoying her little shows from time to time but never payed too much attention to the new lieutenant of the 7th squad. Then Mira came to ask his help in renovating the warehouse for Iba’s birthday gift and since the process took quite some time, they had the chance to spend time together, getting to know each other during those long crafty nights of recycling furniture. He is now heavily crushing on her and gets a little shaky and mildly flustered when she’s around, with Yumichika largest amusement. Mira has always appreciated her fellow colleague and was glad to have the chance to build up some kind of relationship with him but she’s genuinely confused by his friendly yet shifty and sometimes awkward behaviour towards her (she’s not good in getting the hint).

Yumichika Ayasegawa: oh the tea they spill. They don’t meet very often but when they do the amount of information they share can compete with the finest Seieitei’s intelligence. Sometimes they go shopping together. Yumichika tries his best to create opportunities for Ikkaku to be there when Mira comes over.

If you managed to read this far, thank you 💕

Some captains/ lieutenants are missing to the list but I already have them written, maybe I will add them in some future post.

Definitely expect more drawings about Mira’s adventures. I have more on the making (like about her zampakuto and other stuff.

I hope you enjoyed this little piece of my imagination,

✨comments, reblogs and likes are appreciated ✨

[twice-inamillion]

Momo in the Studio

Smut (dirty talk, sex, penetration, creampie, sex crazy momo)

Chapter 216

1,570 Words

(OC and Momo spend some time in the studio. They work together on some lyrics but gets messy in the end. 😏)

After arriving in Korea, you have spent most of your time in the studio. The members use their time at the company for dance practice or to work on lyrics for songs they want to submit for the next album.

Momo is one of those who is excited to show you some lyrics she wrote for a potential song.

“Amazing work, Momo. How did you come up with this?”

“Really? It’s good?”

“Yeah, it gives a different vibe.”

“Thanks! Hmm… I went around and asked unnie for help.”

“Nayeon and Jeongyeon?”

“I can’t say, but they gave me some pointers.”

“Thank them because I can see this as a potential song.”

The two of you spent a couple of hours in the studio trying out some potential beats. Momo became interested in the process and stuck to you like glue. “So if you change this, it gives a different vibe to the song? It’s supposed to be a love and hate type of song, but it’s also kind of hot,” as Momo presses her breast to your arm.

“I think we can emphasize more on these words” as you mention the words “Love, I love you, love you, hate, foolish.”

“Yes, like you love someone and hate them too, seems like a hot way to have sex.”

“You must be sex crazy.”

Momo looks at you with lustful eyes, “It’s because I’ve only used my fingers and toys. You haven’t been filling me up as of lately.”

“You know how busy we’ve been. The wedding and the tour.”

She pushes your chair and gets on top of you, “Still, you could have given me a good fucking. Don’t think Jihyo would mind.” You know that she’s teasing you, and it’s working.

She notices you staring at her chest, “Wanna see my tits, Oppa?” Momo doesn’t wait for an answer and takes off her shirt, revealing her beautiful breasts held by a thin bra. She slowly undoes her bra and tosses it onto the nearby chair.

With her large nipple in front of you, it doesn’t take much for you to shove your face to her breast. You attach yourself to her nipple and suckle. Momo moans loudly and says, “Oppa, there’s no milk; I’m not Jihyo.”

You don’t respond and keep on focusing on her breast and move to the other. You place her nub between your teeth and give a slight bite. Momo cries from her nipple getting bitten and digs her nails into your arm.

After detaching yourself, Momo unbuttons your shirt and tosses it to the floor. She gets off of the chair, starts to undo the remainder of her clothes, and moves to remove your pants.

When she removes your boxers, your cock springs out hard. Momo looks at you with hunger in her eyes and says, “fuck, I missed your cock so much.” She gives it a few pumps and gets back on your lap.

You see Momo grab your cock and aligns it to her entrance. You ask, “No foreplay?” Momo looks at your crazed eyes, “No, I just want your cock in me, now,” and lowers herself to take in your head. She moans to the tip of your cock inside her, “Ooh, that feels so good, and it’s just the tip.” She lets the remaining of her weight go, and her cunt swallows your whole length.

“Fuck! You’re stretching me wide open!” Momo arches her back from the sudden pain of your massive cock invading her hungry womb.

She doesn’t hesitate to bounce on your cock aggressively. Momo grunts and moans loudly to your thick cock, spreading her walls wide open. “I hate you; you make me such a bad girl. You make me feel like I’m high.”

You notice her spouting out some of the lyrics of her songs as she rides you like a bull and you decide to tease her a bit. “Why do you hate me?”

Momo, with her hands fondling her massive breasts, yells, “I hate how Jihyo has you wrapped around her little fingers. She shouldn’t have you all for herself; she needs to share with the rest of us!”

She continues to ride your cock as you enjoy the show. Her perfect breast bounces right in front of you, “fuck, Momo. I love your breasts; I just want to milk them dry.”

“Only way you’ll get that is if you breed me,” giving you a smirk.

“You would want that, huh.”

“Yes! I enjoy the feeling of hot cum inside my womb.”

“I want to see you become a complete mess,” place your hands on her butt and stand up. With her arms wrapped around your neck, she holds on for dear life. You begin to fuck her in a stand-and-carry position as you walk to lock the door of the studio. You walk back and press the “recording in session” button to ensure that no one bothers the both of you.

“Make sure you fill me up real good, okay.”

You stand in the middle of the studio and fucking her mercilessly. Momo lets her full voice out as she grunts and moans loudly. “Just like that! Fuck me with your big, fat cock. Mess up that slutty pussy of mine.”

You give her a heavy slap on her ass and increase the pace of your thrusting. She digs her nails deep into your back, “Ahh… you’re going to make me addicted to your cock. Don’t stop, please.”

“Tell me where you like my cock.”

“Ahh… in my cunt.”

“Where?”

“I said in my cunt!

“I can’t hear you.”

“I said, I like it when you fuck me in my tight little cunt with that big fat cock of yours!”

“See it’s not so hard.”

You decide to change up the pace and let her do all the work. Momo uses her strength to bounce on your cock as she avoids falling. “Oppa, don’t let me do all the work; I’m about to fall.”

“You’re doing a good job, Momo. Just keep going, okay?” as you kiss her on the lips. She’s surprised from the sudden kiss and giggles, “Okay, but make sure you give me a reward after for doing all the work.”

Momo continues to bounce on you for what feels like an hour. As time goes by, her rhythm goes slowly, and her breathing becomes heavier. “Oppa, I can’t hold on anymore. My arms are about to give up.” She presses her head onto your chest and is entirely out of energy. You lift her up, pull out and reinsert your cock and do some slow but hard thrusts.

“In or out?”

She lifts her head and shyly whispers, “In.”

You walk towards the couch across the studio and slowly place on the sofa into a mating press. Standing in front of Momo, you get on your knees and tease her with your cock by tracing your head against her lips. With your cock in hand, you slap it on her cunt before inserting it back inside. You hold her legs up to her head and thrust yourself deep inside.

“Oh fuck!! Fuck… fuck… you’re too rough. You’re going to mess me up.”

“You told me to mess you up, so here it is. Take it like a good girl.”

Momo bites her lip as she feels the tip of your cock reaching the deepest part of her womb. She doesn’t resist and whines, “Cum inside me already; I want to feel it in my…”. You don’t let her finish her sentence as you pull out and slam yourself once more. Her eyes widen as she pulls her womb gets pumped with a large amount of thick hot cum.

“Hmm….fuck! Keep pouring that hot baby batter inside my slutty cunt!”

You watch as her belly grows bigger by the amount of cum you’re pouring inside of her. “You’re taking it like a good girl, Momo,” as you watch her satisfied face. You give her one last thrust before pulling out.

“Woah, you look so hot,” as you watch Momo’s creampie. “I really did a number on you,” as she lays on the couch with her legs spread wide open. You see a thick trail of cum oozing out and dripping onto the sofa and on the floor, creating a small puddle.

You walk to Momo and ask, “Hold a peace sign. I want to take a picture.” Momo holds a peace sign with both hands, sticks her tongue out, and rolls her eyes back.

“Haha, you really know how to turn on a guy, huh.”

Momo laughs at your comment, “I wouldn’t know. You’re the only guy I’ve been with.” You can’t help but smile and thank Jihyo for allowing you to play with her “sisters.”

You stare at Momo’s delicious body and see a slight bulge in her tummy. You give her belly a hard press and see a large amount of cum gush out of Momo’s used cunt.

With her two fingers, she traces her folds and collects as much cum as it can hold. She puts it in her mouth and says, “Tastes so good, it’s sweet,” as she licks her fingers clean.

[murphychips]

I HAVE GREAT NEWS!

welsh gender services got in contact with me and i am gonna go on testosterone and get my BOOBS THROWN IN THE INCINERATOR! FOR FREE! except there is one small catch.

my BMI (yes yes we know it's bullshit) is 37, and apparently surgeons get reeeeeeal weird when your BMI starts with any number that isn't a 2 (so, 20--29). that means i need to lose around 15-20kg to reach a good weight! to make this happen, i've hired a personal trainer to help me get fit, but personal trainers are not exactly cheap. so, i'm doing a COMM DRIVE to help me cover the costs!

I WILL DRAW FOR YOU: anything that i can draw. your dnd characters? done. your ocs? done. a scene from the fanfic you're writing? done. a cover for your novel? done. if it can be depicted with clip studio paint then by god i will do it.

I WILL WRITE FOR YOU: anything within my wheelhouse. fanfiction from my fandoms? done. something original? done. this will take longer than An Art but it will happen.

YOU PROMISE YOU WON'T SPEND THIS ALL ON FALLOUT 76 ITEMS?: i will show you the receipts if i must. also ironically enough turns out the guy i've hired was in the same year in high school as me. small world.

I will update with prices soon (as well as some other things of interest: did someone say adoptables?), but if you're interested, please message me on Tumblr or drop me a line on discord! and when i am significantly more fit i will pick you up and carry you into the sunset, so long as you pay for the plane ticket,

THANK YOU!!!

[candyheartedchy]

Okay!! Am gonna drop them! Please remember that these questions can be skipped or unanswered because, well if you don't want to, you don't have to/pos

1- who fell for who first? Like i know Frankie blushed when he saw OC's (sorry i don't know what to call her so am going with mc, reader or player.. I apologize in advance) face but was this enough for him to fall for her? Or was it like "she's cute" vibes for few seconds?

2- the comic about reader sending a crush letter to Frankie when she was a kid is just so cute and nostalgia because am sure a lot of us had this "celebrity" crush or "when i was a kid i had a crush on this person despite i can't marry them" type of crush. But how did Frankie knew it was her? Was her name listed?

3- what about monster Frankie, deputy duck & Henry hotline? How does reader feel about them? Or monster Frankie and deputy duck? Because henry is d3ad.

4- does reader and monster Frankie has some... Bond outside the contest? Like in the live stream show, they're enemies or hunter & prey but outside they're like normal around each other?

5- does Frankie give the player an advantage every now and then so ahe won't d1e?

6- how does the player's room look like? Since she's working with Frankie she must have a room of her own.

7- I hope i don't be rude or disrespectful in any way but how can reader Parkour while she's so... *ahem* thicc?!

8- does Frankie like to tease the player? Like he sees her wear the bunny socks and he teases her about her liking him others why a bunny? There's other mascot socks lol.

And these are here for now!💛💛💛

SORRY THIS TOOK A BIT TO ANSWER!! But I’d numbered each answer to each question below! And I didn’t mind answering them so don’t worry! :D

—

1 — My sona (oc) grew up watching Frankie’s cartoons and stuff as a kid and was always a fan of his. She technically was the one to fall first since “Cartoon Frankie” was her fictional crush as a kid. So during the events of the game and after meeting “Real Frankie”, her old feelings for him returns. At first Frankie only saw her with the mask on, so he had no idea what the contestant looked during the whole game until my sona removes it and mostly catches Frankie off guard because now there’s a (cute) face to the contestant.

2 — Once my sona starts to work as an assistant, Frankie becomes curious of her because her name seemed familiar before he finds out that my sona’s name is the same one that were on a few fan letters addressed to him.

3 — I like to think Henry always gets damaged during the games and ends up needing repairs in time for the next one. So once in a while my sona crossed paths with him and ends up chatting (mostly strained) a few times, mostly about what it’s like to work for Frankie. Deputy Duck she seems to get along with better out of the two. (Answered her opinion on Monster Frankie for the next reponse!)

4 — Yes and no. When my sona first had to face against Monster Frankie, it was terrifying for her. All those old happy childhood memories of Frankie’s cartoon counterpart, they were now twisted by her spending that time trying to survive his monster version. Monster Frankie is very dangerous and can’t be controlled, so it’s constant hiding and dodging for my sona around him. A few times Real Frankie had to swoop in to make sure his monster copy won’t hurt her.

5 — Not at first. When my sona was going through the game in the beginning, Frankie was expecting her to go like the others until he became intrigue by her determination to make it out alive that he eventually starts go easy on her. Though he does keep her on her toes here and there (mostly for ratings purposes).

6 - Probably boring and a lot like a dorm room, where she sleeps there and it was mostly put together last minute. She only ever uses it for sleep since she’s mostly working for Frankie.

7 — I was mostly amused by the idea of myself would most likely struggle through the whole game and barely making it out alive. So with my sona’s weight and being physically weak, parkour is VERY difficult for her. So it’s mostly out of sheer luck and hitting her mark when landing at the right moment that saves her. Which is the one reason why Frankie wasn’t expected her to make it at first.

8 — He mostly talks to her as an announcer to a player, so everything he says to her is just sounds upbeat and bold. So when he finds the letters it’s mostly amusing to him, and pokes fun about it, but eventually he starts noticing her getting nervous around him and will tease her on that too. The bunny socks (and sometimes graphic tshirts) are merch that Frankie gave her as clothes to wear while she stays there.