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[cryobabiess]

Can you write a fic where the reader came to the palace as a new and untouched slave and is really beautiful (also her body). And like Caracalla and Geta want her but she is sassy and refuses but the second they touch she is really shy and acts innocent because she is a virgin but they didn‘t know?

Inter Duos Deos

pairing: Geta x Reader x Caracalla Tags: Light nsfw, implied threesome, dubcon

AN: Reader is named after the gorgeous Sherouk Farid 👀 Enjoy!

It is a miracle by your god that you've kept your virtue intact considering your unfortunate circumstances. The Roman army was civil enough to transport the female prisoners of war on a separate ship from the men. You quickly understood this not as an act of mercy, but of preservation.

A general dressed in leather regalia had grabbed you by the flesh of your arm, separating you from the other women being rounded up like cattle. He inspected you with an intrusive eye, hardened gaze lingering on the linen tunic falling off your shoulders. He forced your jaw open and ran his finger along your gums and the flesh of your cheek.

"This one appears to be in good health. No signs of disease, and quite the sight. Bring her to Palatine. They should find good use for her there. Atilius will deliver her."

They brought you to your conqueror's palace, where you were cleaned and perfumed with incense and oils. The servant girls offered wisdom as they plated your long hair into ornate braids. In hushed whispers, they warned against looking the Twin emperors in the eyes and urged you to keep your head down; do not show fear, for they will revel in it. Back home, amongst the grain fields where you laboured, there was talk of the two holy sons of Rome and their lust for blood and war; it was only a matter of time before they exercised their divine right and sent their men to the shores of your humble village.

As you stood before the great god emperors Caracalla and Geta, with hair and robes spun from gold, you thought they looked more human than what the rumors described.

"My lords, It is my greatest honor to present the spoils of yet another successful campaign!" An older man with thick black kohl lining his eyes pushes you towards the center of the throne room, gold bracelets chiming with his enthusiastic movements.

You discreetly glance at the twin emperors through your eye lashes only to see the elated grin of Caracalla, who eyes you like a starved animal. His aquamarine irises travel the length of your body, lingering on the round of your hips. The servants dressed you in nearly transparent chiffons and delicate gold jewelry, as per Caracalla's request.

"Such beauty you've brought us, Atilius! And to think you found it amongst savages." He jovially exclaims, leaning back against his seat.

"From where does she hail?" The taller brother, Geta, stands from his gilded throne and descends down marble steps. His dark gaze, though equally as ravenous, is more calculated than his brother's.

"From a small conquered village south of Aegypti. And salvaged from a grain field, none the less! Like a jewel plucked from dirt."

"Does she have a name?" Geta inquires.

"Is she pure?" Caracalla interjects.

You speak before your handler speaks for you.

"I am named Sherouk." You declare the name your father gifted you with pride and meet Geta's domineering gaze. He startles at your confrontation, his once pleased grin straightening to a hardened line. Atilius raises his palm to strike you, but Geta catches his hand before it makes contact with your cheek.

"Leave us, Atilius." He commands, unbothered by your words. Your handler looks at you with unease before dutifully retreating from the throne room.

"How bold! She will make for interesting nights. I want to be the first to taste her, brother." Caracalla laughs, sufficiently entertained by your futile resistance.

"I should sooner die by the blade on your hip." In the mere seconds it took to say the words, outrage erupted in the throne room. Caracalla stood from his seat in an instant, fingers hovering over the dagger sheathed at his belt as he strides across the marble floor. Geta holds the space between you and the spurned emperor, his palm colliding with Caracalla's chest.

"Peace, Caracalla, peace."

"Why do you permit her to insult us?! Allow me to grant her dying wish!"

Fear strikes you then. You hold your head high, close your eyes, and prepare to feel the cut of a blade, but it never comes. Instead, you feel the feather-light touch of a pair of hands ghosting over your shoulders, cold metal rings brushing down your exposed breasts and the supple curve of your womb. You gasp at the foreign sensation, your body tightening and your sex awakening. You open your eyes to see Geta's arrogant expression. His fingers dip lower, pushing past the thin layers of your dress to glide through the folds of your cunt. Caracalla's rage is replaced with curiosity as he watches his brother raise a single digit to his mouth to taste your essence. A shaking breath escapes you along with your feigned bravery. Desire takes hold.

"Ah, I understand now." Geta exchanges a knowing glance with his brother. Your facade of strength has been compromised.

Intrigued by your obvious arousal, Caracalla positions himself behind you to take greedy handfuls of your tits, his thumbs plucking at your hardened rose-bud nipples.

"Is it true, brother? That a bitch that guards riches barks the loudest." Caracalla rests his chin on your shoulder as he kneads your tender flesh in his hands. You can hear the smile in his voice.

Geta takes your face between his palms, caressing your flushed cheeks.

"Sweet Sherouk," His low voice is as saccharine as molasses, but false. "what riches do you guard?"

[two-white-butterflies]

love by listening | daemon targaryen

Description: Daemon Targaryen goes rogue after his wedding to Lady Rhea Royce, unwilling to consummate the marriage. He finds peace in a Dornish tavern. You meet him in said tavern, and quickly become close friends. You share an adventure. Both unaware that the other person is nobility.

graphics from @saradika-graphics

Pairing: princess of dorne!reader/daemon targaryen

Warning: brief making love (not sex, making love)

A/N: I wanted it to give Dunk and Egg vibes. Reader is bubbly and talkative/has her own ambitions. She does what she wants bcs she's all about that high life. Set in Dorne + young daemon targaryen. open ending.

Daemon didn't believe in gods. He doesn't care about the punishment he'll be given after this. A few hours ago, he was forced to go through the wedding with Lady Rhea Royce. In his opinion, she was not an attractive bride. She was lucky to have come from nobility for she had a basic peasant bitch face.

Despite her odd looks, benevolent Daemon still went through with the marriage. He held his tongue, wanted to make his brother proud - but then they started talking about the bedding ceremony, and Daemon knew that he had to get the hell away from there.

Where did that bring him?

To Caraxes, to flying towards Dorne - and drinking inside of a tavern.

"It's the first time I've seen a foreigner in these parts." your voice breaks him free from his thoughts. He was about to swat you away, but a single look at your face changed his mind.

Beautiful.

There were a lot of pretty maidens in Dorne - but you were one of the most beautiful ones so far. "I did not bring any gold." he warned, under the impression that you were a whore. "Gods, I have no intention of fucking you." you lied, quickly sitting beside him.

"The first time I saw a cock. It was disgusting. I actually vowed to only fuck women after that." you smiled at the memory. Reaching for his ale, and taking a drink of it. "- I suppose I never upheld that promise. Women are beautiful but we are too wet for my taste. Men are just lovely and dry, and they are easier to toy with." you giggle.

He could smell the alcohol on your breath.

You were the first maiden he's seen to speak in that manner. He wonders if the maidens back home are like this too, if it weren't for archaic beliefs silencing their true thoughts. Dorne was a magical fucking place. It was how the rest of the six kingdoms needed to be.

"Why are you talking to me?" he asks, his face stoic just in case you had some tricks up your sleeve.

"Well, you are alone." you pointed out. "- and I am alone. Shouldn't two vagabonds protect each other?" you tilted your head.

"What makes you think that I am alone?" he inquires.

"I've been watching you for quite some time now, love. Are you going to give me your name?" you asked in return, continuing to stare deep into his purple eyes - drawing him closer like a siren to the waves. "I'd like to remain an enigma." he answers, matching your mysteriousness.

He finds himself hypnotized by your eyes. Eyes that were lined with kohl. "I won't share my name too, to be fair." you smiled, and now his attention was drawn towards your lips. Stained red with rouge.

The tension between you was palpable. He felt like a moth to a flame. Allured by this beautiful fire. Leaving only one question in his head: will he burn? Fire cannot harm a dragon. He reminds.

His hands reached for the small of your waist. A sudden boldness. He plays with the textured embroidery of your tunic. Pulling you closer to his body, until you were almost sitting on his lap.

"What will I call you?" he frowned, teasing you.

"Think of something witty." you insisted, fingers dancing along the details of his clothed tunic.

"Gevives, then." he settles on a suitable name. "I am relieved that you find me beautiful, love." you laugh, hands trailing upwards to his collar - pulling him closer until your lips were bridged together.

He melts into the kiss, hands firmly wrapped around your waist. He'd be so easy to poison. But alas, you weren't here to kill him.

He presses you against your bed - the first time he's felt lust in a while. If this was going to be a one-time thing, then he'll be thinking about you until the day he died. He's already placed this encounter in his three best fucks. The way that you looked beneath him, he can almost see himself thirty years later still jerking off to you.

You are fucking beautiful.

Naked - and vulnerable against him.

His hands danced along the curve of your waist, delighted at the smoothness of your skin. You reach for his face, cupping his cheek tenderly - staring at him with fascination. "You are so beautiful, like an illusion." you whispered in a voice that makes him want to sleep.

He positions his member at the entrance of your core.

"So good," you cooed - feeling him begin to thrust. You continued staring at each other, that connection remained unbreakable. "Keep going," you whispered, he couldn't help but smile. So talkative, even when making sweet love. "Gevie," he smiles.

Daemon wakes up to the feeling of light on his exposed skin. He lets out a yawn, rubbing his eyes so it adjusts to the brightness of the room quicker. He takes a deep breath - as he remembers what happened last night.

Last night, he fucked a goddess.

He turns to look at your sleeping form.

Beautiful even when sleeping, he thought.

He was thankful that he commanded Caraxes to return to the Red Keep.

He had no responsibility. None but you.

"Good morrow," you greeted, voice still hoarse from last night. "Good morrow," he responds, wrapping his arms around your waist. This type of touch was foreign to him. He's never wrapped his arms around someone after making love.

It felt domestic. Like how marriage was supposed to be.

"I suppose this is where our paths diverge." he says, unwilling to sound needy. But in actuality, he never wants to leave. He wants to stay like this forever. Inside of an inn, with his arms wrapped around the most beautiful woman in the world.

"Not so soon. I think we should still walk together." you hum, pulling him closer to your body until he was laying on your chest.

"I've made the observation that you have a lot of time on your hands." you breathed, his ears pressed against your chest - listening to your heartbeat.

"Your observation is correct." he confirms.

He had the face of a dangerous man. It was a risk to be in a stranger's company, but your heart told you that he could be trusted. He felt like you - exactly like you.

You kept staring at his body. His toned muscles and broad shoulder. "Are you a knight?" you asked, reminded of the tourney in Starfall.

"I am," he answers truthfully, praying that it was something that you liked about men.

"There is a tournament in Starfall. The prize is a dragon egg." you informed, mind already focused towards the next adventure.

"I shall win a dragon egg for you, then." he announces. He finds no harm in having a little adventure with a maiden. He has won all the tourneys he's attended, after all. "Really? I wanted to steal it." you say.

He responds with a chuckle, pushing a strand of your hair away from your face. How dare you steal his heart. "Why steal it when you can have it fair and square?" he asked teasingly.

You continued staring at his face, a look that was indescribable. "I like the sound of that," you smile - pressing a kiss to his jaw.

Ashara's lips pressed into a thin line. "What god has possessed you to bring a man inside of Starfall?" she scolded, leading you and Daemon towards a secluded part of the tourney. "He is my paramour." you announce, your grip remains firm on his hand.

"Your father will kill him." she says plainly. "- a Targaryen bastard, a scandal waiting to emerge." she scoffs.

Daemon's expression softens, quickly turning into amusement.

Do they all believe me to be a bastard? Apologies, I am legitimate, he thinks, but he decides to bite those words back, lest he be sent back to the Red Keep.

"I did not come here as my father's daughter. I came here under a disguise." you reminded, pulling the grey hood up until it was hiding your face. "You shouldn't have come here, anyways. You'll get me into trouble with mine own father." she glared at you.

"I'm sorry Ashara but we won't be bothering you. We merely want to join the tourney and win the dragon-egg." you say out loud, but she silences you with a finger to your lips.

"The prize remains a mystery to those in the audience. Only the competitors truly know. The Targaryens will be furious, we will be answered with fire and blood." Ashara reminds and you nod silently.

"- I'm sorry, I'll stay out of your way. I promise. Now, can you please lead us to the tents?" you ask and the other woman nods, pointing at the white tents in the far distance.

"Thank you," you smile politely - still holding his hand and dragging him to the direction of the other knights.

You paid a squire a decent amount of money to use their armor. Daemon was quick to wear it, but he still missed his sword. The Dark Sister, previously wielded by Queen Visenya. "I've never fought against this much Dornish men before." he breathes.

He had his experience fighting a few of them. They were good warriors, though not good enough to defeat him. "We fight like rattlesnakes, that's what my father always says." you say, placing the last piece of his armor on his body.

"You haven't been here for that long, huh?" you made another observation, and he nods. Though he still keeps his identity a secret.

"I grew up in Kingslanding. My mother died giving birth, and my father died of a burst belly." he chuckles - laughing his sorrows away.

"Prince Baelon is your father." you say with certainty, piecing the information together. "- he would've made a wonderful King." you add, basing off the stories that your father shared.

"I think it is your turn to speak about your past, gevives. And I've spent enough time around you to understand that you aren't lowborn." he urges while adjusting his straps.

"How did you come to that understanding?" you inquired, curious of his way of thinking.

His hands danced along your exposed arm.

"Your skin is smooth like silk." he says, like he was praying. His hands trailed upwards, until his fingers were on your chin. "- and you take good care of your beauty." he finishes - and he stops touching you.

"My father is a nobleman. I am his youngest child, the only daughter after six boys. Which means that I've been exposed to leeches using me ever since I was born. I ran away from them. I can't trust anyone, but I think I can trust you." you reveal pieces of your past to him, unwilling to give him the full information.

He was the first person that called you beautiful without knowledge of your vast fortune. And now he was here, promising to win a tourney just so you'd see a dragon-egg for the first time.

"Six brothers, like the princess of dorne." he teases.

"Mhm," you hummed - freezing.

"Ser, get ready." a squire peeks his head through the tent. Daemon stands up, and offers his hand for you take - helping you stand up.

"Thank you," you smile, regaining your composure.

"I promise to win, my lady." he places a kiss on the back of your hand.

Daemon won the tourney with ease, any knight that dared to fight against him didn't even last five minutes. All of his fights ended the same. He'd strike them down, the opponent would be on the ground and Daemon would only look to the next competitor.

You continued watching him.

Observing every little thing that he's doing. It was evident that there was a piece of the puzzle that you haven't solved yet. A knight as skilled as him should be renowned, and yet the only information you have on him - is that he is the bastard son of Prince Baelon.

He was an interesting mystery.

"The winner of our tourney, Ser..." Ashara rises, only beginning to realize that none of them knew the name of this skilled knight. Your best friend turns to look at you, but you answer with a shrug. It was a little game between you and Daemon - neither one knowing that the other one's real name is.

"Ser Daemon," he opened his mouth - meeting your gaze.

He added the last piece of the puzzle, and your face was struck with eureka. Prince Daemon Targaryen, you thought immediately. "Congratulations, Ser Daemon. Please claim your prize behind the tents." Ashara nodded.

"The audience was complaining, the tourney wasn't entertaining for them." you open the conversation, stepping foot inside of the tent. "I suppose it isn't entertaining when only one person wins." you smirk.

He holds the dragon-egg in his hands. "I promised that I'd win." he answers, patting the empty space beside him. "Here's your dragon-egg, my lady." he chuckles. You gladly sit beside him, laying your head on his shoulder and marveling at the beauty of the egg.

"You are Prince Daemon Targaryen." you announced, confirming your previous suspicions. "I am," he finds himself unable to lie.

"- I think it is only fair that I know your name too, my lady." he adds.

An amused smile paints your lips.

"I am Princess (Your Name) Martell. I can't believe that we meet under these circumstances." you laugh.

A prince and a princess meeting inside of a tavern instead of a castle. Even beginning to fall in love without the pressure of their respective kingdoms. It was something out of a fable.

Daemon reaches for your hand, placing it on top of the dragon-egg. "It is an honor to meet you, my princess." he acknowledges.

[lemmesayimyourbiggestfan]

Make me

Sirius Black x fem!reader

in which James planned you a blind date with your nemesis

requests are open!

word count: 2,1k

warnings: language, drinking

...

"I'm so tired of all the boys. I swear, there is not even one normal man here in Hogwarts." you grumbled despairingly as you landed on the couch in the common room next to James.

"Oh sweetheart, so I take it the date didn't go as planned?" he chuckled.

You covered your face with your hands and loudly exhaled.

"Well, we did go to Hogsmeade but instead of Honeydukes he took me to Scrivenshaft's quill shop. Stop laughing, this isn't even the worst part. He then kept blabbering on about some new type of rainbow ink that he, in his own words, just has to buy."

At least James tried to not laugh as much as he desired to, though you wouldn't blame him - because what the actual fuck.

"Oh, I just love hearing of your escapades, Y/N. Such a shame, though; me and Lily are desperate to find another couple to go on double dates with." he smiled while pouting his lips mockingly. You punched his arm with surprising strenght.

"Just no more guys like Mr. Rainbow Ink, please." you laughed.

James looked as if he wasthinking of something and after a moment of silence, his whole face lit up and you knew that whatever he thought of was no good.

"Just leave it to me, 'kay? I'll find the perfect guy for you and arrange a blind date."

"Fuck no." you said immediately, knowing that James would singlehandedly mess up.

"No, no, just hear me out, okay? I will take this job seriously, in my own interest. I promise not to make a joke out of it."

You rolled your eyes in answer but didn't argue further.

"Plus, I think I have the perfect candidate."

At that moment, you should've already known that something will go really, really wrong.

...

Three days later, James already had everything planned out and was nearly jumping with excitement. Well, you didn't really share that feeling. But for some reason, seeing your childhood bestfriend so invested in finding you the best match made you soften and not argue that much.

"You know that this Friday is the Celestial ball, right? So, your date will pick you up at five and please, dress nicely so he doesn’t change his mind. Yeah, that's probably all you need to know." he gave you a wicked grin.

"Why the secrecy?" you raised an eyebrow at your friend.

"Nothing, just making sure it's an unfiltered experience for you."

“At least if he turns out to be another idiot, I have an excuse to get hammered.” you grinned.

“That’s the spirit!” James bumped your shoulder excitedly and you couldn’t help but smile at his childish happiness.

But when you tried to think of even a single person with whom he would set you up, your mind went blank.

Who are you gonna be, stranger?

…

In preparation of the upcoming ball, Lily and Dorcas braided your hair into a sort of messy half-up-half-down hairstyle and you girls shared quite a laugh when they tried to get you into your very - very - tight dress.

With your black high-heels on, you examined yourself in the mirror. Your Y/H/C hair looked so sexy tied liked that and you decided to go with the same messy vibe regarding your whole look. From the smudged black kohl lining your eyes and the bold dark-red lipstick to your floor length burgundy dress with black lace adoring its edges. Oh, it might have been just a bit too slutty for such an occasion, but you didn't mind at all. You and Marlene always enjoyed wearing things just a smudge out of pocket.

You also liked shy boys stuttering when they looked at you. You hoped your escort would be one of those. You grinned at the thought and left your room with a light step.

"I see you take this date seriously." James nodded at you approvingly as he watched you approach him in front of the Great Hall.

"Yeah, yeah, dream all you want." you rolled your eyes. "Where is he?"

"Darling, getting all pretty and dressed up for me today, aren't you?" a voice purred behind you and it affected you in the same way a bucket of icy water would.

Oh no. Oh fuck no.

"Are you fucking serious?" you gritted your teeth at James and he paled when he saw the murderous look on your face. He better.

"Darling, he’s with Lily, remember? He wouldn’t be fucking me. But you, on the other hand… You know how my usual dates go."

You turned to face that ridiculously handsome face of Sirius Black. That fucker was you nemesis since the moment he saw you on the Hogwarts Express sharing a booth with James. It didn’t matter to you that James found a guy bestfriend – you were okay with sharing the same pedestal with another – but Sirius, on the other hand, just purely despised you for it. So after two yers of trying to settle this tension between you two, you gave up and started to treat him the same way he did.

And that nickname, that god-forsaken nickname; it drove you crazy and you both knew it.  

”I’m not spending even a second of my time on this… existence.” You spat at James instead, wisely ignoring that egoistic shit and silencing all your witty retorts. In your fourth year, you once wrote an entire list of those retorts, spending all your nights sitting crouched over that one piece of paper with anger flowing freely in your veins.

Obsessed much? a small voice in your head whispered.

“I think that if you give this a chance-“

“No. Fucking. Way.”

“Angry already, darling?” Sirius purred and your knuckles turned white from you trying so hard not to break his perfect nose.

“Wipe that smirk off of your face before I do it for you.” You have been such a fool for trusting James to do just one thing right. Now you would do anything to be here with any of the guys you were previously complaining about. But instead, you were left with the only person you truly hated. So much for an unfiltered experience.

“Oh, are you gonna kiss me, Y/N?” Sirius smiled even wider.

“This was probably not a good idea.” proclaimed Lily as she approached you three.

“Probably not.” James nervously tugged at his hair.

You and Sirius were just staring daggers at each other. And after deciding this staring contest was fucking ridiculous, you just turned on your heel and began walking back up the stairs.

“Oh, darling, leaving so soon?” Sirius shouted at you and every head in the hallway turned your way. You turned around and bared your teeth at him, not caring that you probably looked like a wild animal.

“Stop fucking calling me that.” Your voice was cold as you took the tree steps it took to reach him. Even though Sirius was towering over you, you felt as if you were looking down your nose at him.

“What, darling?” he puffed, one corner of his lips turning up. He was toying with you, you knew it. And you hated that he knew it, too.

“Yes.”

“Or what?” Sirius stepped closer and you felt the tips of your shoes touching his. With every rise of your chest you could feel the fabric of his shirt.

Before you could say anything back (which would be hard because, apparently, your mind just went blank at Sirius’ closeness), James tugged at your elbow and walked you to an alcove nearby.

“What the fuck, James?” you spat at his accusingly. He winced at your words as if you had hit him.

“I just- Well, I don’t have to justify my gut feeling to you, but I think you guys should get over your hating phase and start acknowledging the chemistry between you two,” he whisled slowly at that, “So please, hate me all you want tomorrow. But tonight, just give him a chance.”

You looked over his shoulder back to Sirius. He was talking to Lily and it wasn’t a smirk on his face but a soft smile that has not even once been aimed at you. That fact made you queasy. You knew he wasn’t always an asshole – it was only in your presence that he got so riled up. But, you thought, it would be nice to be smiled at just like that.

“Okay. But just tonight.” You were surprised by your own words. Were you an idiot for saying that? You didn’t know.

“Thanks,” James sighed, relief lacing his words. He took your elbow again and brought you back to the group.

“I’m gonna get myself a drink. Maybe two.”

Lily giggled at James’ words and grabbed onto his arm and the two of them hurriedly left. That meant you and Sirius were left alone, which was very, very dangerous. You started walking to the bar without looking back at your escort, because all you really needed at that moment was a strong ass drink.

“Firewhiskey, right?” Sirius asked you when he caught up to you. No matter how fast you tried to go, he infuriatingly and casually kept his pace next to you.

You raised an eyebrow at him. In answer, he shrugged. “I just know.”

You tried to shake off the feeling that embraced you after realizing he somehow knew your favourite hard liquor.

 You also didn’t know how to react to the fact that Sirius paid for his and your drinks that some students smuggled into the party for a laughably ridiculous price.

As he handed the cold glass to you, your fingers touched, just barely. You told yourself your heartbeat was quick because of your temper, no other reasons.

“I don’t think you realize just how angry you make me.” You smirked ironically at Sirius, the alcohol already burning sweetly in your throat.

“I have that much of an effect on you? I should be flattered.” Sirius retorted. But it was not an angry answer, just…. A playful one. And you had no idea what to do with that.

“Don’t think you’re all that, Sirius.” You rolled your eyes. “Should I ckeck for a poisoned drink? Or a love potion?”

You knew you were dancing on the edge of a very sharp knife. But somehow, that made it much more fun.

“Don’t think of me so poorly, darling. As if I needed a love potion to get you on your knees and beg.”

“In your dreams, Black.”

“Yes, in my dreams, darling.”

You froze at that. Was he actually impying he dreamt about you being on your knees, begging before him? But of course he did, that arrogant prick. He always had to feel superior.

But that didn’t stop the blood from seeping into your cheeks - but you blamed your blush on the firewhiskey.

So in answer you just took another sip of your drink. Were you an idiot for flirting with him? But were all those quarells of your shared pasts actually any different from flirting? You’ve never been so confused.

“You really aren’t making this any easier.” Sirius mumbled but instead of your eyes he looked around the room. Thank Merlin the music was so loud that any awkward silences were swallowed up by it.

“As if you are?” His eyes met yours and you had to fight the instinct to fight with him, to get closer to yell at him - or get closer to kiss him?

Instead you got yourself another drink, just so you could do something with your hands.

“Slow down, tiger. Didn’t think you actually hated my presence so much you would rather get hammered.” Sirius mockingly frowned and before you could react, he snatched the glass from your hand.

“Give it back, you little fucker.” You growled and tried clawing at his raised arm. But he was a lot taller than you and to be honest, your attempts were just meaningless.

“Make me.” And maybe it was that crooked smile of his, or how good he looked in his suit or how soft his hair looked in the dim lights, that made you reach on your toes and kiss his infuriating dirty mouth that made you want to combust most of the time.

How was it possible that his lips were so intoxicating but the words that usually came out of it were so infurating?

But you forbid yourself to think of all those things. Instead you now easily reached for his hand and grasped your glass, snatching it from Sirius’ weakening grip.

“Made you.” You smiled. The bewildered look on his face was worth it. “I didn’t fluster you, did I?”

Sirius gave a startled laugh. “You clever little vicious thing.”

And he leaned into you, his nose touching yours, your breaths mingling. “Now do it again.”

[jake-g-lockley]

Hiya :3

I’ve never done a request before so I thought it might be fun

Maybe you could write a Din Djarin short where the reader had to intervene in a fight on his behalf and Din is furious because the reader could have been killed and lashed out causing the reader to run off and he’s been looking for them ever since?

Also they haven’t admitted that they have feelings for each other yet so there’s another scoop of angst for ya hahaha

To Their Heart’s Content (Din Djarin x reader)

Masterlist | Spotify Playlist | Wanna be tagged?

A/N: *crack knuckles* MISS MA'AM I HAVE JUST THE THING OMG. I hope you like it <3 and thank you for the ask, I had fun writing this!!! Warnings: Angst, yelling, Din being Din. Word Count: 1.4k

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Din’s POV “Din, you do not give babies explosives unsupervised!” you squealed as you grabbed onto the explosive that Grogu had been proudly showing off to you. 

Once you had set the explosive safely aside, you giggled as you chased Grogu around the ship’s hull, laughing aloud as you tackled the child into your arms. 

The memory of your laugh pulled Din Djarin away from the focus of flying through the dizzying depths of space. Nothing had sounded closer to music to his ears. But now it was just a distant memory, a memory that he had been trying to chase. 

You had always been the chatty one, and he had always listened to you. He could spend hours listening to your talk about the most random thing, and you wouldn’t know that he also spent those hours staring into your eyes. 

Your gaze was always sharp, as if you had lined your eyes with glass instead of dark kohl. They sparkled with irresistible charm, glowing brightly whenever you star gazed while he flew the ship. Din would feel his skin grow hot wherever you would glance, not in pain or agony but as if he was being bathed by warm sunlight. You were like a cup of caf, the first taste always being bitter. But when you came around to him, your boldness and brightness took over his entire senses, kickstarting a whole new beginning for him. You had a fullness in your body and a richness in your soul that drew him towards you, almost connecting you to him.

“Don’t go too far, kar'ta!” Din yelled out before he could stop himself as he watched you and Grogu skip through the meadow. You had seen the meadow as Din flew above it and you insisted on flying down, to pick some flowers to make flower crowns. The second he touched down, you had flipped your extra long curls and a beautiful scent of nova lilies flooded all his senses, knocking him out cold. 

Kar'ta

Din doubted you understood what he called you. You’d give him a head tilt and smile at his sudden use of Mando’a. He couldn’t help himself, for you were his kar'ta, his heart. It was at that moment, when he watched as you picked his kid up and spun him around, where the doom settled at the pit of his stomach, and he knew that he couldn’t live without you. 

The scene in his mind drastically changed and blaster shots echoed in his head as the imagery of the wreaked marketplace appeared. Din had been fighting 5 to 1 and was already kneeling in pain from the poisoned cut. You lept in front of him, and Din yelled out as the enemy’s blade slashed a cut into your arm. Din heard you scream as his world plunged into darkness. 

The scene changes again and Din is knocking away a bowl of porridge that you had offered to him the second he had come to. 

“Din, I-”

“You could have gotten yourself killed!” he yelled through his helmet, barricading you with his large frame.

“I knew what I was doing!” you yelled back, pushing your hands at his armour but he didn’t budge an inch. “You could’ve been dead if I didn’t step in! Who do you think dragged you all the way back here?”

The Mandalorian went quiet, but you stared at him through his helmet, glowering at him as tears flowed from your beautiful eyes. 

“I. Don’t. Care. Next time, stay out of my way.” he huffed, turning away from you.

“There isn’t going to be a next time, Mandalorian.” 

Your words rang clear in Din’s head as time froze around him, except for the frantic movement of your body around the hull of his ship, grabbing at your belongings. You left that night and Din was hellbent in wanting to go and search for you but he couldn’t move a muscle. His pride overtook the feelings he had for you and he couldn’t go after you, not after how he treated you.

The kid’s soft whining brought Din back to the present and he unscrewed the metal ball off one of the levers and handed it to him

“Don’t worry, little one, we almost found her.” he said softly, rubbing Grogu’s head as he gazed at the planet before him

Your POV

You rubbed the pendant around the neck between your fingers as you breathed in the fresh air around you. As evening approaches, the lake mirrors the fiery colours of the sunset, transforming into a molten pool of oranges, pinks, and purples that blend seamlessly with the twilight sky. Your chickens cooed and you smiled at them before shutting your eyes and letting your memories overpower you. 

You missed your mystery Mandalorian, you dreamed of him and recently you had his voice in your head. You wanted to go back, and you wished you didn’t make such a harsh decision to leave him, to leave Grogu. You hugged yourself as the wind blew gently and you swayed, re-imagining that one day that Din had gained the courage to slow dance with you in a bar after you teased him a bunch. “Big man like you never danced with a lady before?” you chuckled as Din’s hand gripped yours a little tighter. “Never with a lady as annoying as you.” he huffed, his nerves pulling at his edges, but you smiled at him nevertheless.

You never knew what he hid under that helmet of his and you never asked because he never pried into your past either. As much as you tried to bury those memories deep down, they always clawed their way back to the surface, haunting your thoughts in the quietest moments. The ache in your chest seemed insatiable, a constant reminder of what once was and what could have been. You found yourself tracing his silhouette in the crowd, hoping against hope for a glimpse, only to recoil at the pain of realisation.

Each day felt like a battle against your own heart, struggling to resist the urge to reach out, to feel the warmth of his presence beside you. The weight of unspoken words hung heavy between you, a silent testament to the distance that had grown. You yearned to break the silence, to shatter the wall that kept you apart, yet fear gripped you tightly, whispering tales of rejection and loss.

In the solitude of sleepless nights, memories played like a relentless movie reel, tormenting you with what could have been said, what might have changed if only you had been brave enough. The ache became a part of you, a raw, tender spot that refused to heal. You masked your longing with a smile, but behind it lay a river of unshed tears, a testament to the depth of your unspoken emotions.

You wanted nothing more than to forget, to move on from the phantom of his touch and the echo of his voice in your mind. Yet, his presence lingered in every corner of your world, a ghost you couldn't exorcise. Each step forward felt like a betrayal of the memories you held dear, a struggle against the pull of a love that refused to fade.

But amidst the pain and longing, a glimmer of hope flickered—a hope that one day, the ache would soften, that you could remember without the sting, that you could find peace in letting go. Until then, you held onto the fragments of what once was, whispering silent prayers to the universe to grant you the strength to heal, to forgive, and to find solace in the sweet agony of a heart that dared to love deeply, despite the pain.

You wished you held your awkward Mandalorian a little tighter, a little longer after the music ended, but here you were standing by your cottage as the air became cool and fragrant with the scent of wildflowers that lulls the world into a peaceful slumber, all alone. “Swapped out the battle armour for chickens, kar'ta?”

You took a deep breath and felt your own heart quicken, the voice reverberating around you too sound for it to be coming from your head. A tear slipped from your eyes as you closed them, your heart finally joining with its lost one as the sound of heavy boots on dirt met your ears. 

Translation: Kar'ta: Mando’a for heart

Kohl: Ancient eye cosmetic

Reblogs are appreciated ~~~ Tagging: @fandxmslxt69 @joygirlmelii @wolfbook87 @randomnessfangirl @minigirl87 @alexxavicry @euphoricosmo @violet-19999 @kierramofficial @ryebreadsworld @your-voice-is-mellifluous @absolutelybloodyhopeless @mintpurplemnm  @britishscum @bubblezuku @cookielovesbook-akie @mandoloriancookie @anonymously35 @milly-louise @marylovesdilfs @pigeonmama

[totothewolff]

The Speed Game of Love

Toto x reader | comedy, crack humor (RuPaul's Drag Race bang), romance, fluff.

Summary: Three fierce queens will race for your love, but only one will win your heart. Could it be the spicy Carla LaTurbo Slayz, the fierce Adore D. Hammer, or the queen of England herself, GiGi Reigns? Or maybe that sexy host could get some! Hosted by the hot and only Toto Wolff. Author's note: It's short and fun. Y/N has the hots for Toto, as usual. Who doesn't?! Enjoy! Let me know your thoughts or if you have an idea, here I am."

More Toto Wolff fics right here > Masterlist

-

From the racing capital of the world is The Speed Game of Love.

And here is your host...

The hot and only Toto Wolff.

(Opening music plays, and the camera pans over the bright and sparkling stage. Toto Wolff is standing there in fullness, tallness, and hotness, just a few steps away from you. As you peek in from behind the entrance, he is looking as sexy as you expected that man to be, dressed in a sluty tight suit, his eyes set on you for a brief second making your knees and other regions jiggle as he starts the show).

"Welcome to the Speed Game of Love. I'm your hot, I mean host! Toto Wolff." he winks at you before moving to his mark at the cue.

(Cheers, gaps, and a loud moan come from the sound effect console as Toto passes a hand on his hair and smiles big and bright straight at the pro camera).

"Let's meet tonight's lucky heartracers!" he gestures with both arms to his left.

(Cut to a shot of the competitors, each one dressed in their best sickening drag looks, all sitting in white bar stool chairs next to each other)

"It's the Queen of tracks! And hearts! Adore D. Hammer!" Toto approaches a fierce-looking queen. "Ready to smash some?" Toto raises his eyebrows as he asks.

"Oh, dear, I'm more than keen for some hammer time!" Adore answers, thrusting with her hips slowly.

She's rocking a sparkly, sluty version of the iconic jumpsuit in neon yellow and black from MC Hammer's iconic "U Can't Touch This" music video, but cinched for the gods along with really high-platform sneakers.

The jumpsuit is embellished with rhinestones and sequins that shimmer and shine under the stage lights. Adore's dreadlocks hung loose around her ears but with a glamorous, over-the-top twist.

Her makeup is bold and bright, with bold eyeliner, vibrant eyeshadow, and a shining golden lip. Her skin is glowing with a subtle shimmery highlight that makes her look like she just stepped out of a disco ball.

Toto gives her a chuckle before moving along.

"Next, Carla LaTurbo Slayz!" He strolls to her, mic in hand. "Miss Turbo, I heard you got some horsepower tonight! How are you, honey?"

(After he asks the question, a loud moan is heard as a sound effect).

"I'm 'fuel'-tastic, Toto!" she blows a kiss to the camera and shows some lil' leg.

She's rocking a stunning, one-shoulder gown made from the finest silk in a rich, jewel-toned red that evokes the majestic flamenco dancers of Andalusia. The dress is fitted and figure-hugging, accentuating her curves in all the right places.

Her hair is a masterpiece; a few strategically placed braids and hairpins add a touch of Andalusian flair.

Her eyes are lined with bold, black kohl and smudged with shimmery gold eyeshadow to create a sultry, seductive gaze. Her lips are painted a deep, crimson red. Her accessories are chunky gold jewelry.

"Up next, it's GiGi Reigns. Is Your Highness ready to conquer this race?" Toto turns to her, bowing first.

"Keen to have a smooth pit stop and a great finish!" an old lady's voice with a thick Windsor accent answers.

She is rocking a look that's equal parts regal and ridiculous. She's donning a velvet-trimmed corset and hoop skirt that's so big it requires its own zip code.

The skirt is a riot of colors, with florals and patterns. GiGi's hair is a marvel; think Elizabeth I's famous ruff but on steroids! Her locks are styled in towering curls that resemble a pompadour.

Her makeup is a masterpiece of over-the-top opulence. Layers of foundation, blush, and powder are applied with the precision of the era, but they make her look old, really old, with wrinkles adorning her features.

Her accessories are an array of fake pearls that look like they belong on the Queen herself.

"Let's start your engines! Close that pit wall!" Toto instructs as the obstructing divider slides from the wall. It looks exactly like a pit wall fence but glamorous, all in metallic pink, blocking the view from both sides.  

As you are about to enter the stage, an empty, small white podium is waiting for you.

"Our wag tonight is from (Y/N's City/Country). Meet (Y/N's profession/studies), Y/N, Y/LN!" Toto introduces you as you step in, smiling at him.

"Mmm, you look good!" Toto runs his eyes all over your body as he approaches you and offers a hand to help you step on the podium.

You feel the heat instantly.

"What brings you smoking gear around here? Did your engine overheat?" Toto addresses you, starting to lean closer to you.

"I'm just looking for touch at this point!" you answer, plain and honest.

(Aww noises come from the sound effect panel).

"Uhmmhu!" Toto gets closer to you than his mark on the floor suggests. He gestures to you to articulate more as he stands by your side, slowly sliding a hand down on your back.

How you react to his touch makes him smile naughtily.

In between a nervous giggle, you explain: "I tried the apps and whatnot, but nothing worked, so my friends suggested I come here to speed up the process. You know, to look for something accelerated, fast-paced." You wink at him, gaining confidence, feeling his eyes traveling down your lips and neck.

"Oh, so you like it fast-paced? Who doesn't like to get their flag chequered hard!" Toto keeps your game of innuendos, flirting with you along.

You nod and bite your lip; he arches his eyebrow slightly.

"Then, you came to the right place!" his voice is deep, and he flexes his arm so you can enjoy the view of his muscles as Toto grabs his mic. "So, Y/N, here's how the game works: You ask the heartracers some questions, and they will try to win this lap for your heart with their answers. When the time runs out, you choose who steps into your podium. Are you ready to race?"

"I AM!" you feel pumped up!

(Engine noises are heard in the studio, indicating the start of the lap).

You read one of your cue cards. "Heartracer number one, finish the following sentence: If I was your car to run me on a race, you would leave me (blank...) at the end."

"In desperate need of a new set of wheels. Oh! I would run you relentlessly from one side of the circuit to the other!" Adore answers, jumping on her feet and doing the iconic MC Hammer moves, passing by in front of the other contestants.

You laugh and nod at the excellent answer. "And you, number two?"

"I would leave you revving for more! You would want me to run you down over and over again around these corners." LaTurbo answers with a very sexual voice, sliding her hand all over her body curves.

"And you, madam, number three?" you ask.

"At the finish line... eventually! I'm a lady of a certain age, darling." GiGi Reigns' elderly voice answers, making you and Toto burst into giggles.

"If it was me, I would have you shifting gears so hard that I would end up breaking you down. But that's me!" Toto jokes, inserting his answer there. "Let's move on to the next question, shall we, Y/N?"

"YES! Let me push that pedal all the way in!" you joke back.

"All the way in?!" Toto asks, now curious, in a high-pitched voice. "Fast-paced and all the way in. Taking notes!" He swaps his cue cards around.

"I think that one's hammer is starting to show! Haha," GiGi Reigns adds, inserting herself into the conversation, bumping Adore with her hand, and both of them taking a small peek at Toto's crotch.

"Please, give head, go ahead, I meant!" Toto jokes with you.

"Based on yourself, how would you prefer to be called if you were a fuel brand?" you ask the contestants.

"Piston Pumping, you gotta keep the hammering for miles long!" Adore gives her answer in perfect branding.

"Fuel-in' Around, just kidding," Carla waves her hand.

"The Lube for The Crown, cause at this age, darling, you need some extra help." GiGi slowly spreads open her legs, making rusted noises, cracking you up again.

"I'd be, Fuel Me Maybe, you know, like tonight, after this show," Toto flirts shamelessly as the game progresses, making it clear that he's interested in none other than you.

"Final question," you go ahead. "Imagine you are an F1 team. Sell yourself to me."

"On the Hammerella F1 Team, competition can't touch us! We are faster than you can say parachute pants!" Adore D. Hammer answers.

"On El Toro Racing, we are unleashing the bull full speed, with fury and passion and with a whole lot of rhythm, ahhhh." Carla LaTurbo's every word gets more sexual somehow as she answers your question, her hands going all over her neck and legs.

Finally is GiGi's turn: "On the Motor on the Bus, The Queen's Royal Racing Team, we race round and round, vroom and vroom, all through the town." She pauses before adding, "But with protocol, dear."

GiGi's stupid answer makes you gag.

"Oh, time is up! Y/N, who do you choose from our heartracers? Number one, two or three?" Toto comes near to you again.

Fuck! He smells so good! That's an arousing cologne.

(A dramatic pause comes before you turn straight at him to give your definitive answer).

"You," you point at Toto. "I choose you!" answering aloud to everyone's... actually... to no one's surprise!

"I'd love to take you for some good ol' laps!" he blows a kiss to you. "But first, let's meet the ones you didn't choose! Say hello to Adore D. Hammer."

"Oh! This hammer would have broken you in half, dear!" she jokes with you as she looks you up and passes along, thrusting the air on her way out.

"and Carla LaTurbo Slayz," Toto again shouts, extending his arm.

"This," she closes her hand at you, moving it around your body, "Has red flag all over," she says, belittling you as she goes out, pretending to be insulted by you rejecting her.

"Finally, GiGi Reigns! Madam..." Toto bows one last time.

GiGi takes her time walking there, making grunt noises as she grabs her back, complaining, making you two lose it.

"I, TOO, CAN COMMAND THE WIND, SIR!" She screams out of nowhere in the most Shakespearean voice, catching you two off guard.

Like GiGi got possessed for a second before she composes herself and gives "royal hand waves" politely as she dramatically exits.

"WHHAAT?" you say, catching your breath between laughs.

"Ready to blow my engine?" Toto triumphantly asks, holding you up like a trophy as he wraps his arm around your waist.

"Against the pit wall?!" you joke around, laughing on his lips, standing next to it.

"Another Speed Game of Love with a... happy ending! To me!" Toto winks. "Good night, everybody!"

(You two wave at the lense before you wrap him in a passionate kiss as the camera cuts to black)

You don't make it further than his dressing room.

The audio crew picks up the loud moans and smashing noises coming from there, as Toto is still wired, and they quickly turn off the equipment.

Join us at The Wolff Pack Discord Server > https://discord.com/invite/tpgArxqbfd

[jintaka-hane]

Run, baby (don't) run

(x gn!reader) NSFW

Masterlist

Summary: Your former crew lost in the Davy Back Fight and you are the tribute to pay. As you step aboard Captain Buggy's ship, your mind begins to conjure ideas for escape, but there's someone who will make your stay not so unpleasant. You might consider yourself clever, presuming to completely know him because you have explored every inch of his body, yet you remain unaware of the deeper emotions he conceals within. Notes: I tried to stick to my initial plan (short smut) and I couldn't... Sorry, I am a hopeless romantic! 💕 Simply wanted to delve into a relationship where intimacy precedes love, rather than the other way around. Warnings: +18, NSFW, MDNI, smut (but there is plot I swear), Sub!Cabaji x Dom!reader (Cabaji is shy, reader is bold), Sub!reader x Dom!Cabaji, oral, teasing, wall sex, wall pinning, idiots in love, some angst with happy ending. Words: 6800 Songs that inspired me: Run, baby run - Garbage

Thank you, my beautiful @fanaticsnail for your help with some parts 🙏🏻 💜 🐌

.

Thud, thud, thud, thud. 

The captain walked with lengthy, intentional strides atop the wooden deck, his footfalls resonating across the damp planks of the ship as he solemnly advanced along the line of awaiting pirates. 

Thud, thud

"... too serious".

Each time he took an aggressive step, he would pause to scrutinize the pirate directly in front of him, a contemptuous critique reserved for each of them.

Thud, thud

"... too tall".

Thud, thud

"... too dull".

Thud, thud, thud… 

...thud

His strides came to a halt mere inches from where you stood, and you averted your gaze, fixating instead on the weathered floorboards. Time appeared to freeze as you sought to go unnoticed, your gaze focused on his worn pointed brown boots.

“YOU,” he said.

You dared to raise your eyes, hoping he might be addressing the next in line, only to find his azure eyes, heavily lined with kohl and blue eyeshadow, fixed squarely upon you.

"Though you'll be needing some makeup…”, he added with a mischievous grin, gazing you up and down, “... and a more colorful attire”.

Satisfied with himself, he spun on his heel and headed back towards his circus-like ship, making a gesture for you to follow him.

You cast one last glance at your companions, giving yourself a few seconds to compose.

“Come on, buttercup!” He barked out at you without turning around, "Where's the enthusiasm?!”

**************

Turning down a challenge was a display of cowardice and shame in the pirate world. And this shame was even greater if the challenge in question was the Davy Back Fight, which stipulated that if two captains accepted, their crews would endure three trials, the losers facing the penalty of crew members theft and the destruction of their pirate flag.

Captain Buggy and his followers had encountered your ship, and in an act of whimsy and boredom, had challenged your former captain, who felt compelled to accept in defense of his honor. Against all odds, your old crew ended up losing to the picturesque and colorful crew led by the sea's most renowned clown, resulting in you being chosen by their captain as a reward for their victory.

You had to quickly adapt to life in the Big Top, vastly different from the customs you had known so far. Made up and dressed in tight circus attire that revealed your midriff, you tried as best you could to fit in with the crew and carry out your tasks amidst the chaos that reigned in that disorganized and eccentric group.

You didn't yet know much about your crewmates, though you could glean some idea of each one's personality: the captain, ambitious, whiny, and extravagant; the first mate, fiercely protective of his captain and always accompanied by an immense circus lion; the unicyclist swordsman, solemn and mysterious, constantly honing new juggling tricks that he later deployed as precise attacks.

It was the latter who particularly had caught your eye, mainly due to the vibrant colors of his attire and the uniqueness of his hair, straight and streaked, pulled to one side. The fact that he always was bare-chested, showcasing his sturdy pectorals, also added to his allure. But you never entertained the thought of getting close to him; after all, you were eager to leave that ragtag crew of pirates behind and join a more formidable crew as soon as possible …

You had sworn allegiance to the captain, but that didn't bind you to servitude for eternity. Perhaps in a few months, slipping away from the ship wouldn't raise too many eyebrows. 

Life aboard wasn't entirely unpleasant. The parties were frequent, which helped time pass more swiftly, and you found amusement in watching the crew's constant juggling and tricks. Yet, you couldn't envision yourself aboard the Big Top for the long haul. Sometimes, unable to bear another note of the incessant circus music, you would retreat to your cabin, bury your head in the pillow, and scream.

One night, an excess of alcohol coursed through the veins of the crew — including you — celebrating that your captain, the great Buggy, had acquired a treasure that would significantly increase everyone's wealth and allow you to afford even more luxuries and extravagances.

You still didn't quite feel like you belonged with them, so you spent the evening watching and analyzing the group of pirates, noting the wildest, the toughest, the most loquacious, and the most reserved among them.

In your analysis, you caught Cabaji looking at you several times, his elongated lined eyes trailing over your abdomen, lingering a bit too long on your navel. The first two times, when your eyes met, he quickly averted his gaze, feigning interest in something else. The third time, he held your gaze and gave you a somewhat hesitant smile. The fourth time, he grabbed his unicycle and some juggling balls, tossed them in the air, and headed towards you, boasting about his sharp reflexes and impressive balance. 

As the acrobatic act concluded, he deftly caught the dancing balls in mid-air one by one with a single hand and, skidding lightly, brought his unicycle to a halt right in front of you, one foot on a pedal while placing the other on the ground to maintain balance. 

You weren't sure if it was the alcohol or simply a desperate need for distraction that night, but you summoned a boldness from somewhere unknown.

“Hey handsome, think you can ride anything besides bicycles?” 

He stood there, his eyes locked onto you, lost for words.

You thought he was an idiot.

And yet, within seconds, you were ravenously making out with that idiot, stumbling through the hallways of the ship as your bodies clumsily bumped with the walls and other unnoticed obstacles making your way to his cabin.

As you reached his room, you paused the kisses momentarily so he could open the door. With a gallant gesture, he ushered you in first, and you entered, casting a swift glance around the space.

It resembled a quaint juggling studio, albeit with the added quirk of a bed positioned at its heart. Disheveled shelves lined the walls, adorned with an array of juggling paraphernalia - diabolos, balls, ribbons, and hoops - alongside an assortment of edged weapons, including swords, knives, and daggers. Atop the floor lay a pair of weathered unicycles, seemingly forgotten.

You took a few steps forward, allowing your eyes to adjust to the dim light within, then turned toward him, watching as he closed the door behind him. With determination in your stride, you approached him, wrapping your arms around his neck before pressing your lips to his again, this time slow, lingering, and deep, while he embraced your bare waist. Tilting your chin slightly, you sought a better angle to kiss him, a low moan rumbling in his throat, barely restrained. 

Still emboldened by the courage perhaps instilled by alcohol, you brought a hand to the center of his chest and with your fingers, you traced the outline of his pecs.

“You’re so tough, aren't you?”

With a caress, your hand descended down his muscularly defined abdomen until reaching the edge of his pants, where a fine line of hair disappeared. Loosening the waistband slightly with your fingers, you created enough space for your hand to venture further, slipping beneath the elastic of his underwear. Cabaji froze in place, his muscles tensing around his stomach. With just one finger, you traced the length of his cock gently, from the base to the tip, while locking eyes with him. He was painfully hard.

“My, my… I think you need a bit of help with this, don’t you big guy?”

His cheeks tinted with a slight blush, but he didn't avert his gaze from yours. You noticed the goosebumps prickling his neck and shoulders, and every muscle in his body seemed to be rigid. Seeing he wasn't taking the lead, you decided to tease him further, this time more cruelly.

Removing your hand from his pants, you brought it to your mouth and provocatively licked the palm, coating it with saliva. Then, you slid it back into his pants and grasped his hard cock, your fingers wrapping around it completely. With a soft motion, you pumped it slowly, a moan escaping his lips as he closed his eyes.

“You’re so tense… you need to relax”.

You lifted your other hand and softly brushed his cheek, prompting him to open his eyes, his dark and dilated pupils locked onto yours, filled with a mixture of admiration and lust.

“Tell me… do you wanna fuck me, big guy?” You picked up the pace, pumping him faster.

He nodded slightly in silence, trying to maintain his composure and stay on his feet, while desire consumed him. You smiled, seeing him so vulnerable under your hands.

“Cat got your tongue, huh? Use your words, pretty boy” you teased him. 

“Yes…”

“Oh, he speaks,” you smirked. You found it amusing how shy he was. Accustomed as you were to dominant, proud, and selfish types, he was turning out to be a rare gem you were eager to enjoy. 

Devouring him eagerly, your lips swollen from the fierceness of your kisses, you gradually guided him to the bed, stepping forward while he took slight steps back, just to maintain balance. When the backs of his legs collided with the edge of the bed, you pushed him, his body falling onto the mattress and pulling you with him into a tight embrace, with no intention of separating from you.

You bent your legs, placing your knees on the mattress to straddle him, seeking his neck with your desirous lips, alternating between biting and licking. His hands began to roam your back, desperately searching for the edge of your shirt to help you discard it. You pressed your hips against his, feeling the massive bulge beneath his pants pulsating against you. His hands slid down to your ass, grasping both cheeks and pressing you down against him harder as he moaned, his hips rising in sync with yours.

At that moment, you sat up to look at him, his eyes ablaze with desire as his tongue darted between his lips to catch your saliva, his cheeks flushed, the vein in his neck pulsing frantically and the muscles in his arms tense as he gripped your ass firmly. You smiled to yourself, wanting to etch such a spectacular sight into your memory forever.

"Grab onto the headboard and don't take your hands off unless I tell you to," you ordered.

He obeyed instantly, holding his breath, eager to see what your next move would be.

"Good boy," you praised.

You lifted yourself slightly and crawled down his body until your head was level with his abdomen. Lowering your mouth to nibble on the soft skin around his navel, you made him whimper while your fingers slowly pulled down his pants.

“Relax…”

Directing your mouth to the lower part of his belly button, you continued kissing his tan and sea-salt coated skin, proceeding down to his pubic area as your fingers lowered his pants further and further.

You focused your attention on his groin, this time positioning your head right above his cock, the fabric of his pants the only barrier between you. With the tip of your nose, you briefly caressed the throbbing bulge hidden by his pants, then pressed your lips against it and began to kiss him through the fabric. You felt him gasp, his hips involuntarily rising to meet you, his cock twitching against your mouth. You smiled at his reaction and decided to tease him further, sticking out your tongue and tracing it softly against him while staring into his eyes.

“Please…”

Already begging?

If teasing him was the only way you had to get him to express himself, so be it... 

“Tell me big boy, what do you need?” 

“... my pants… too tight, I’m so hard I can't stand them anymore”.

You smiled to yourself and decided to indulge him. If he spoke, you would obey. With a gentle motion, your fingers lowered the edge of his pants, freeing his dick, which sprang from its captivity making him sigh with relief.

He was large, but you were sure you could handle it. You ran one finger gently over him, caressing the crevice of its tip, and collected some of his pearly fluid. As you pulled your finger away, a silver thread followed connecting you to him, and you looked at it, fascinated.

"I’m going to suck away and swallow that shyness from you… " your resolved words made him moan. 

You paused to look at him, his eyes locked desperately on you, consumed by excitement. Without taking your eyes off his, you proceeded to lick him, your tongue stroking his head, gathering all the precum. 

Opening your mouth wide, you surrounded his cock with your lips, capturing it in a sweet embrace, and began swallowing it slowly all the way down to the base, giving yourself time to adjust to its size as you noticed him holding his breath, the muscles of his abdomen stiff, his gaze attentive to each one of your movements. You kept advancing until you felt the tip in your throat, where you paused for a moment to concentrate and relax your gorge so that it could enter all the way. With one final push, you managed to take him all in. He exhaled all the air from his lungs.

With upward and downward movements, you began to suck him with a light pressure, seeking the perfect angle to take him into your mouth whole, your senses attuned to his reactions, his breathing, and whimpers, to match the right pace. His eyelids fluttered closed and his head tilted slightly backward, savoring every moment, while his obedient hands remained on the headboard, his knuckles white from the pressure his fingers exerted. He opened his eyes to look at you again, fascinated by the sight before him.

“Damn… you’re perfect”, Cabaji sighed out.

Encouraged by his praises, you lightened the pace and pressure, sucking hard as you rose back up to his thick tip, repeating the process over and over again, coaxing songs from his throat. His body stretched, further exposing his bare chest while his hands gripped the headboard of the bed more tightly, causing the wood to groan.

“W-wait, slower... I won't be able to hold it back.”

Knowing that you were making him lose control led you to want to torture him more. You extended your arms, and your hands traveled to his chest, where you began to caress the curves of his muscles, as you worked at the same time with your mouth at a frenetic pace.  Cabaji groaned in frustration as his head lulled to the side, his dark eyes meeting yours with a desperate look. He bit his lip and gently bucked his hips so his cock went further down your throat, causing a small gasp to escape from you.

"S-slower, I don't know how much lon... aaah…”

Your refusal to slow down appeared to prompt him to ignore orders as well, and unable to contain himself any longer, his hands disobeyed your command. With a swift movement he released the headboard and firmly grasped your nape, exerting pressure to thrust deeply into your mouth several times as you sucked him down. It didn’t take long for him to reach his end.

“F-fuck!”.

With one final, deep thrust, he came hard, his hips stuttering as his cock throbbed and released its thick load into your throat while his fingers threaded tight against your scalp. As he filled you up letting out a low groan, you did your utmost to swallow everything he gave you, just as you had promised.

Panting, Cabaji ran a hand through his dark hair, gathering his composure as he looked down at you, admiring how beautiful you remained with your tousled hair and flushed cheeks. You released him gently, freeing your mouth to speak.

“You didn't keep your hands on the headboard," you smiled. Getting up and crawling up his body, you pressed your lips in a fierce kiss against his.

"You didn't slow down," he kissed you back, his hands encircling your back to pull you closer into an embrace. Then, with a swift and fluid motion, he turned your bodies, positioning you beneath him. Looking down at you, he bestowed another passionate kiss.

**************

It couldn't happen again.

In your bed, as your cabin mates snored around you, you gazed up at the ceiling, unable to sleep, reconstructing in your mind all that had occurred during the night.

His head nestled between your thighs, coaxing waves of pleasure with his mouth while he firmly gripped your quivering abdomen against the mattress…

The sound of the headboard banging against the wall, your face buried in the hollow of his neck…. 

You hastily grabbing your clothes to leave…

You shook those thoughts from your mind. 

As enjoyable as it had been, it couldn't happen again.

Having sex with a crewmate wasn't usually a good idea, as it sometimes led to misunderstandings, grudges, jealousy, and troubles entirely to be avoided in life on board. And you couldn't afford that luxury, you needed to keep as low a profile as possible, so that when you vanished, nobody would notice your absence. You couldn't let it happen again.

But of course, it happened again. 

After that initial encounter, many more followed, each one spontaneous and unplanned, sometimes occurring in the most clandestine of places like the pantry, the cellar, or even the armory. With each subsequent meeting, his initial shyness seemed to vanish, replaced by a more possessive and dominant Cabaji.

When the intimate encounters were spurred by the revelry brought on by alcohol during a celebration, Cabaji was accommodating, willing to let you take the lead and set the pace you needed. Those moments were for experimentation and delving more deeply into different ways to pleasure each other, and you quickly learned what things truly drove him wild and made him lose control.

Other times, your sexual liaison served to relieve stress following a violent encounter with an enemy crew, discharging onto each other the adrenaline surged after a victory or the accumulated frustration following a defeat. In these latter cases, you both usually got carried away by fury, and endured energetic sessions of possessive and rough sex, each fighting to dominate the other, focused on pursuing your own pleasure, using the other's body in the process with a frenzied and furious pace. 

**************

"No," he reprimanded, his arms wrapping around your waist from behind, pressing your back firmly against his chest. You struggled against his embrace, striving to break free and reclaim control, attempting to twist around to meet his gaze.

That day, he had fought with Mohji. As often before, it had begun with a petty dispute that had escalated into the first mate challenging Cabaji to a duel to establish his dominance within Buggy's crew. They had fought for quite some time, and in the end, despite their evenly matched skills, Cabaji had lost, albeit narrowly. It only took you one look at him to realize that he would need you that night, and one way or another, you two would end up having vigorous sex.

Seizing you firmly, he steered you towards the wall until your entire front was pressed against its surface. Before you could plant your hands against it to attempt to pivot around, he captured them and pinned them securely against your back.

"NO," he growled as you fought harder, prompting him to tighten his grip even more aggressively, nearly cutting off circulation in your wrists.

"Against the wall," he pushed your head, forcing your cheek to press against the wooden panel.

In moments such as these, your attempts to assert dominance were in vain, for though your speed could sometimes surpass his, his agility and strength were greater. Nevertheless, you persistently resisted and sought to challenge him, driven by primal instincts and an unspoken understanding of the effect it had on both him and yourself.

You attempted a backward kick, swiftly dodged by his agile maneuver, his smirk amused by your futile efforts. He seized the opportunity to slide his leg between yours, forcefully nudging one aside to spread them apart. Drawing near, his heartbeat thundered against your back, while his hips roughly met yours, allowing you to feel his arousal. He gradually lost his grip on your wrists as he sensed your progressive relaxation and surrender.

"Give up, I know you want this too," you heard his voice, a mere whisper against the curve of your jawbone, “don't make me tie you up like last time”.

As his grip momentarily loosened around your wrists, you futilely struggled to break free once more, only to find yourself pinned even tighter against the unyielding wall. Seeking retaliation, you snapped at the air, growling, attempting to capture his lips between your teeth, but he withdrew just in the nick of time.

“Tsk,” he tutted, “I'm going to have to tame you like the wild animal you are…”

“I thought Mohji was the tamer,” you let out, sharply.

You reveled in provoking him repeatedly, testing the limits to see how far you could push. However, as you concluded the sentence, you bit your lip. Perhaps, given the circumstances, you had pushed too far this time.

You had angered him. 

With a ferocity that bordered on the primal, he clasped you tightly around the waist, lifting you with unrestrained force. Spinning you around to face him, he hurled you towards the wall, the unexpected impact causing you to gasp as your shoulder blades collided with the wooden panel, the sound echoing in the tense silence that followed. He seized a handful of your hair and yanked sharply, tilting your head back, so your neck was fully bared to him.

In this position, seeing you completely at his mercy, with your breath catching and your heart pounding, he seemed to calm down. With the tip of his nose, he traced a path along your throat, detecting the pulse of your artery, lingering where adrenaline surged through your bloodstream.

“I’d slit his throat before he could lay a finger on you”, he kissed you right at that spot.

Without shifting his attention from your neck, his hands explored your body, seeking the elastic of your underwear. He slipped his hand inside, gauging your arousal before assisting you in discarding it with a determined tug.

Grasping one of your legs by the back of the thigh, he raised it as high as possible, locking it around his waist. Feeling your calf pressing against him for balance, he repeated the action with your other leg, pressing your body firmly against the wall, making it your support point. Secured in that position, he undid his pants, freeing his swollen and pulsating cock which quivered in search of your warmth. 

“Tell me you want this”, he whispered in the shell of your ear.

“I want you, baby”, you uttered the words that drove him mad.

Without further delay, he bent his knees, causing you to descend, your back sliding down the wall slightly. Gripping his cock, he eagerly directed its tip to your sweet entrance, then thrust into you forcefully, impaling you and causing your hips to collide sharply upward against the wall as he held you securely by the thighs. You panted at the impact, both arms draped around his neck.

Cabaji remained completely still in this position, giving your body time to adjust to his and relax. He closed his eyes, focusing intently, and pressed his cheek against yours, awaiting a subtle signal from you to indicate that he could proceed. After a few moments of concentrating on the rhythm of your heartbeats, he felt your cheek press back against his, signaling your readiness. Firmly securing his grip on your thighs to prevent any slippage, he began thrusting into you with increasing intensity.

"Tell me you're mine," he pleaded, his voice barely audible over the moans escaping your lips as his hips relentlessly collided with yours.

You didn’t answer. 

He always asked you once, and you never responded, leaving him to content himself solely with your kisses and whimpers, something he always tried to counteract with a firmer grip on you, as if the fact that you didn't respond implied that you might escape at any moment.

**************

Beyond your intimate encounters, there were never interactions between you: you neither spoke nor sought each other out. Your meetings were never premeditated, but rather fortuitous and accidental, and the absence of contact outside of these moments left you questioning whether the rest of the crew suspected anything about what was happening between you two.

One night, you returned to your cabin after having a horrible day. You had been particularly clumsy, and while organizing the juggling room, hundreds of balls, diabolos, and hoops had fallen on you. You had to endure some crewmates' shouts and spent hours putting everything back in place just as it was. All you wanted was to lie down in your bed, rest, and hope that the next day would be better. 

Upon reaching your cabin, you noticed something small resting atop your pillow. Intrigued, you approached, picked it up, and examined it closely: it was a delicate handmade paper flower, its exquisite petals meticulously folded to resemble a real blossom, alternating between shades of blue and white, reminiscent of Cabaji's scarf.

With a bitter chuckle, you cast it aside.

"What a fool..."

**************

The following night, you found yourself in his bed once more. Throughout the day, the crew had been reveling and drinking, and a chance encounter in the evening had led you to end up as you always did, enjoying each other's bodies. 

On this occasion, you were lying face down, bearing the weight of his body, your legs spread to welcome him inside you as his hips delivered his final thrusts against you. Moaning deeply against your neck, he chased his release for the second time that night. With one hand pressing firmly your lower abdomen, he lifted your pelvis, seeking the perfect angle to discharge himself as profoundly into you as possible.

With one last, deep thrust, you noticed his body shaking against yours, his cock twitching as he poured all his tension into you, relishing the moment and taking his time, deep growls escaping from his throat.

Panting heavily from the exertion, he collapsed on top of you, his forearms bracing against the mattress on either side of your body to avoid bearing down his full weight on you. Once he had emptied himself completely, he withdrew, pressing his lips briefly against one of your shoulders in a sort of farewell kiss before falling exhausted by your side.

Typically, after finishing, you didn't waste time and returned to your normal routine, either heading to your cabin to rest or, if it was during the day, continuing with your everyday tasks on board. But this time, particularly, you were exhausted, and for the first time, you lingered a bit with him between the sheets.

“I’m drained,” you murmured.

“Hmm”.

You remained lying face down, arms folded beneath your head, forehead resting upon them, taking deep breaths as you tuned out the world around you.

Suddenly, you felt fingertips caressing your body, gently trailing down your spine, tracing an imaginary line over your small back and descending to follow the curve of your ass, the contact making your skin goosebump.

You lifted your head immediately, surprised by the sudden display of tenderness, and found Cabaji lying on his side, beside you, his arm bent and his head resting on his hand. His gaze fixed on your body with an intensity that bordered on... devotion.

His fingers traced the same curve again, drawing delicate patterns on your back and causing you to shudder again under his touch. Your body tensed up as the air seemed to freeze in your lungs.

What was that? 

Was that an expression of… 

… affection?

Your heart began to skip beats as anxiety invaded your chest.

NO. 

Immediately, the memory of the beautiful flower resting on your pillow the previous night flooded your mind, triggering an internal alarm. 

No, no, no, no.

No feelings.

NO.

You sprang from the bed in a swift motion, your naked body fully exposed to him. He looked at you, surprised by your sudden movement, yet a smile played across his lips, seizing the opportunity to admire your figure once more.

“You’re so pretty…”

“Cabaji,” your expression darkened.

“… yes?”

“... you know this is just sex, right? Nothing more.”

His smile faltered momentarily, yet his gaze remained inscrutable, making it difficult for you to discern his thoughts. Those stupidly beautiful, lined eyes fixed on you.

“Yes, of course I know,” he responded promptly.

“Good.” 

You stepped away from the bed to gather your clothes, an awkward silence filling the room. You dressed as swiftly as you could, the oppressive tension in the air making it hard to breathe normally. As soon as you were fully clothed, you opened the door, eager to make your exit.

“See you,” you bid him farewell, casting a final glance at the bed where he sat, still unclothed, with his gaze fixed on some distant point in the room.

“Bye”.

**************

Following that last conversation, two long weeks went by without any form of contact between the two of you.

At first, you didn't understand. You were used to not having any kind of relationship with him outside of your sexual encounters, but even though you didn't talk during the day, no more than two or three nights would pass before you found yourselves in each other's arms again. However, there was no trace of Cabaji wherever you went. The only news you had of him were snippets of conversations drifting from afar.

"Hey, did you hear? Cabaji threw a knife in target practice and he missed. He stabbed a man right in his hand."

"No way! He's never missed!"

"Yes, yes, he did. He's been a bit lost lately…"

Occasionally, you would catch sight of him from a distance, whether in the galley, the juggling practice area, or on deck, where he was often engaged in conversation with the captain or involved in heated exchanges with Mohji.

As days went by, you began to believe that his interest in you had waned, signaling the end of your clandestine affair, perhaps for the best. 

You carried on with your life without giving it a second thought. Your days were a whirlwind of tasks, leaving little room for contemplation or reflection, and if you had any time left, you spent it plotting the best way to leave the ship and find another crew.

A few days later, you were walking down a narrow hallway that connected one cabin to another below deck. You walked calmly, lost in your thoughts, when suddenly you felt a strong grip seize your arm, pulling you sharply towards them and causing you to collide against their chest, momentarily throwing you off balance. 

Startled by the abruptness of the action, you glanced up to identify the assailant, only to find yourself met by the sight of a blue and white scarf—Cabaji. 

"What are you doing?!" you asked furiously, attempting to wrench your arm free.

"We need to talk".

"Let me go!" you used your free hand to shove him off.

At that moment, as if the capricious universe were mocking you, a crew member attempted to pass through the hallway, causing you to pause momentarily your movements. The space was so narrow that, to make room for him, you had to move closer to Cabaji, causing your bodies to touch completely. You felt a strange sensation at the contact, like a familiar warmth that your body had unconsciously longed for.

"Hey," the shipmate greeted as he advanced down the hallway. 

Time seemed to stretch infinitely in that position, standing so close to each other that you could feel Cabaji's agitated heartbeat, your chests pressed against each other. As the shipmate passed by your side, he appeared startled by the sight of Cabaji towering over you, firmly gripping your arm.

“You two okay?”

“We’re fine”, Cabaji snapped curtly, his eyes still fixed on yours.

The crewate, sensing the odd situation and not wishing to get embroiled in any trouble, hurriedly made himself scarce. As soon as he disappeared and you were alone again, you pulled your body away from Cabaji, and gave another strong tug to release yourself from his grip. 

This time he let go. 

With your arm now free, you turned around to continue advancing down the hallway. 

"I have things to attend to."

"Wait..." he said frustrated, stepping in front of you to block your path. You attempted to go around him, but he stopped you. Letting out an impatient huff, you tried to shove past him once more, your hands trying to brace against his chest.

"Hold on…" he grabbed your wrists mid-air to hinder you from pushing him, and you sharply twisted your hands, freeing yourself again. With an angry snort, he swiftly seized you by the waist before you could escape again, lifting you off the ground and pinning you against the wall. As you tried to push yourself away from the wall to break free, he grabbed your shoulders firmly, thwarting your attempts to flee.

"Damn it, you're so stubborn," he muttered in frustration.

Cornered and feeling the firm pressure of his fingers grasping your shoulders, you surrendered. You shut your eyes and drew in a deep breath, attempting to rein in the anger bubbling within you. As you exhaled, you steeled yourself to confront him, reopening your eyes to meet his gaze. 

Upon closer inspection, you were taken aback to see the fatigue etched on his face and the deep circles beneath his eyes, clear signs that he had been suffering. 

"Are you going to listen to me?" he begged you.

“Fine.”

"Good.”

His eyes darted between yours, seeming to take a moment to arrange the words in his head before speaking them. You waited quietly, somewhat concerned because you had never seen him so distressed. His eyes then moved to your lips, lingering on them for a few seconds.

"And?" You asked haughtily, titling your chin up. Your question seemed to bring him back to reality and his dark, lined eyes refocused on yours.

"Okay... ,“ he inhaled deeply, struggling to find the right words and not mess things up. “Well, I… I knew the rules... but …," he paused again.

"What rules?” you asked, urging him to continue.

“Listen, I know we… No, I… I  was not supposed to fall…,” he halted abruptly. He seemed to be delivering the most complicated discourse of his life, looking at you with a furrowed brow. You could almost hear the neurons in his brain, racing to find the right words.. “I’ve tried, I've tried hard but I…”.

Without understanding anything of that nonsense, you lost your patience.

“Cabaji, what the hell are you talking ab...?” 

“I miss you,” he cut you off.

You arched an eyebrow, taken aback. 

"What?"

“I miss you,” he repeated, more confident this time, finally finding the courage to deliver a somewhat coherent speech. “I … can’t eat, I can’t sleep, I can’t even hit a target. I can’t live like this''.

Your eyes widened as your brain processed his words gradually, incredulous at what you were hearing.

“... I'm craving you”.

You were speechless, bewildered by his desperate words, which caught you completely off guard. Time seemed to stand still, the creak of the wood and the gentle sway of the boat the only signs that the world hadn't stopped.

Your eyes briefly darted to his hands, your shoulders flushed from the pressure of his grip. Following the direction of your gaze, he suddenly seemed to realize that he was still holding onto you and immediately released you.

"Forgive me," he apologized in such a low tone that it was only audible to you.

You stood there, staring at him intently, your back pressed firmly against the wall as your head spun.

“Y/N, please… please, come to me tonight.  Please, let me have you again tonight, I … I rather jump overboard than deal with another night without you”. 

He was pleading with such desperation that you felt a tightness on your throat, overwhelmed by everything you were having to process in that moment. A sense of infinite sadness engulfed your chest, releasing all the suffering you had been denying yourself from feeling these past few weeks. 

"And…,” he continued, “I can't stand you leaving afterwards. I’d like to spend more time with you… I want to be able to caress you without you fleeing from me in fear."

You remained silent, unsure of what to say. It was too much, too many thoughts, too many feelings, and you didn't know which path was the wisest to take. 

“Cat got your tongue, huh?” he smiled sadly.

You turned your face to the side and averted your eyes from him to give yourself a few seconds to think without feeling the pressure of his hungry eyes staring into yours, desperate for a response.

“I am not scared of you,” you managed to say with a thread of voice.

He lifted one of his hands and brought it to your chin, gently holding it between his fingers to guide your face back to his and meet his gaze head-on.

“No…" he sighed, "you're scared of us. Of what we could become… if you let me”.

His fingers moved from your jawbone to your cheek, his thumb softly caressing it, causing you to shiver. How was it possible that after all the physical contact you had shared for weeks, after all the scratches, licks, bites, grips and thrusts, what you found most challenging to endure was a simple caress?

“... would you? Would you let me?”

Your mind scrambled, attempting to swiftly piece together a response. The plans to abandon the boat flashed through your mind, as until that moment, leaving within a few months had been a firm decision. But now, as you stood there, your thoughts became a tangled mess, forming a lump in your throat that silenced any reply.

Sensing your distress and hesitation, Cabaji gently eased the pressure his fingers exerted on your cheek, and seeking to grant you some breathing room, his body appeared to drift imperceptibly away from yours. You perceived the shift, and in that instant, realization dawned. You understood then, deep in your core, that you truly were afraid.

It was the fear that Cabaji might let you go and turn away. The fear of him never touching you again, the fear of never feeling his lips against yours, the fear of him never looking at you with the intensity he did in those moments. The fear of him disappearing from your life forevermore.

You lifted your hand, letting it hover momentarily before cupping his own, cradling it against your cheek. Meeting his weary gaze, you smiled softly at him and offered a silent affirmation with a nod.

“My love…” he smiled back at you, exhaling the relief that anticipation had built up in his lungs. His hand left your cheek and moved slowly to your nape, his fingers tangling in your hair. With gentleness, he drew your head towards his until your noses brushed lightly. Sensing your breath quickening nervously, he paused, unsure if this was really what you wanted.

As he came to a halt, you let out a frustrated exhale and, gripping his scarf tightly, you forcefully pulled him towards you to close the short distance separating your lips, causing them to collide and seal in a loving kiss.

Encouraged by your determined attitude, he kissed you back, long and deep, wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you closer to him as if every inch of distance between you was too much to bear. After spending so much time apart, the kiss felt so good that you began to search for more and more hungrily, hardly letting him breathe, chaining one kiss to another, eliciting soft moans from his throat. 

Each time the kisses felt like they were nearing their end, your lips ravenously sought his once more, while he, caught up in the fervor of your embrace, allowed himself to be carried away. When the lack of air forced you to lower the intensity and part, he looked into your eyes.

“Tell me, are those things you have to attend to now so urgent?”

“No,” you said quickly, leaning in eagerly to kiss him again.

“Well… ,“ he stopped you for a moment, placing his index finger on your lips, “why don’t we go to bed and see if this time you're ready to answer if you're mine?” And before you could reply, he captured your mouth with his again, smiling into your lips.

You know this is just sex, right? Nothing more.

Your own words echoed in your mind as you hooked your arms around his neck and pressed him against you, angling your chin to deepen the kiss further.

Fuck it.

.

[sp00kygoddessxx]

 🖤Dangerous Intentions🖤

The pirate camp was a cacophony of noise and debauchery, as Vaas and his men celebrated another successful raid. Drunken laughter and the clinking of bottles filled the air, creating an atmosphere of unrestrained chaos. You had found yourself at the heart of the revelry, sitting near Vaas himself, the man who had become both your captor and your fascination.

Vaas's wild, kohl-rimmed eyes bore into yours, a mixture of amusement and intensity flickering within them. His lips curled into a sinister grin as he leaned closer, his voice low and conspiratorial. "Cariño'," he purred, "you lookin' for a little fun tonight?"

You couldn't help but feel a shiver of anticipation as you met his gaze. Vaas had a reputation for unpredictability and cruelty, but you couldn't deny the strange allure he held over you.

"Maybe," you replied, your voice laced with a hint of flirtation. "But the question is, can you keep up with me?"

Vaas's grin widened, a sinister and seductive sight. He leaned in closer, his lips dangerously close to your ear, his breath warm against your skin. "Oh, Cariño'," he whispered, "I can keep up with the best of 'em."

You felt a surge of attraction to this enigmatic man, a reckless magnetism that drew you further into his dangerous web.

With a swift and unexpected motion, Vaas's hand reached out and settled on your thigh, his touch electric. His fingers traced a slow, teasing path along your skin, igniting a fire within you. It was a bold move, but you weren't one to back down from a challenge.

Leaning closer, your lips brushed against Vaas's ear, your voice a sultry purr. "Prove it, Montenegro."

Vaas's laughter filled the air, a wild and maniacal sound that sent shivers down your spine. His hand slid higher along your thigh, his fingers tracing delicate patterns on your skin. The chemistry between you and Vaas was undeniable, a magnetic pull that defied reason.

"Careful, Cariño'," Vaas said, his voice low and smoky. "You might just awaken a beast you can't handle."

You couldn't deny the dangerous allure of the man before you, and the world around you seemed to blur as you engaged in this intimate and dangerous dance of flirtation. The line between right and wrong had never been so blurry, and you were willing to play this dangerous game.

As the night continued, you and Vaas found yourselves at the heart of the chaos, flirting and teasing one another with increasing intensity. The tension between you was palpable, an intoxicating mix of desire and danger.

With each stolen glance and whispered innuendo, you felt the magnetic pull of Vaas Montenegro drawing you further into his enigmatic world. It was a world where the rules were undefined, and power and control were the ultimate currency.

But as the night wore on, Vaas's demeanor shifted, his playful and seductive demeanor turning more intense. His dark eyes bore into yours, filled with a smoldering fire that left you breathless.

"Cariño'," he said, his voice low and intimate, "you might just be the most dangerous thing I've come across in a long time."

You couldn't deny the surge of attraction that coursed through you, a reckless desire that left you craving more. The world around you had become a blur, and in this moment, there was nothing else but the magnetic pull of Vaas Montenegro.

With a final, heated glance, Vaas leaned in, his lips claiming yours in a passionate and demanding kiss. It was a kiss that defied reason, a reckless surrender to the allure of danger and desire.

When the kiss finally broke, you were left breathless and disoriented, your heart pounding in your chest. Vaas's dark eyes were locked onto yours, a mixture of desire and intensity in his gaze.

"Amor'," he said, his voice low and husky, "you've got a fire in you that I can't resist."

You could only respond with a sultry smile, your own desire mirrored in your eyes.

As the night wore on, you and Vaas continued to dance on the edge of danger, your attraction and chemistry reaching new heights. In this unpredictable and perilous world, you had been drawn into a dangerous game of desire and temptation, a game where the line between right and wrong blurred, and where power and control were the ultimate currency.

[allylikethecat]

⋆˚࿔ october prompts 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

The best part of going out with friends that have kids, is that when I forget / run out of time to finish the day's prompt before I leave, I know I'll be back at a reasonable time and able to get it done. On that note, I am sleepy and have to be up early tomorrow to go see Pop before work so I didn't really proof this one so bare with me. Even with the prompts being a little all over the place, I am super proud of myself for making it this long without missing a day!

²³⁾ glitter dusted across bare skin

George was transfixed, watching as Matty moved, swaying in time to the music. He was drunk, they both were, off of the brightly colored, fruity cocktails, lingerie clad bottle girls were carrying on trays. They went down easily, and George didn’t care in the moment, even though he knew that they were going to come back up a lot less easily the next morning. The hangovers hurt more and more now that they were on the wrong side of thirty. 

He hadn’t wanted to go to the party, but he hadn’t had a good enough excuse not to go, especially after Matty had come downstairs dressed and ready, his curls artfully mused and his eyes accented with dark kohl. George had licked his lips, his jeans feeling tight. Matty hadn’t dabbled in makeup in ages. He was wearing a sheer black button down, a black blouse, really, George was almost positive it had come from the women’s section. It was unbuttoned nearly down to his navel showing off the bright, bold lines of his tattoos and the sharp jut of his collarbone, glitter dusted across bare skin sparkling in the flashing lights. 

One of the bottle girls bumped into George, and started quickly apologizing, shouting to be heard over the pulsing bass. George was a DJ at heart, and he felt untethered and off balance being in the crowd while someone else was behind the table. His fingers itched, he didn’t know who was DJing but he knew that he could do better. He wanted to do better. He liked being above the crowd, controlling their bodies with the beat. It was the same reason he liked being a drummer, he was the one in control, he was the one counting everyone in.

“Come dance with me!” Matty slurred, suddenly pushing his way into George’s space, pulling him from his melancholy, standing on his tiptoes to throw his arms around George’s shoulders. He leaned on him with all of his weight trusting without having to ask that George would hold him up. 

“Isn’t that what I’m doing?” George teased, letting his hands fall to Matty’s hips, rucking up his blouse, untucking it so that he could dig his fingers into the bare meat of Matty’s flank, savoring the warmth, the softness that he found there. He loved Matty so fucking much. 

Matty giggled, burying his face into the crook of George’s neck. He was most likely getting the glitter all over George’s own patterned button down but he couldn’t bring himself to care. He liked touching Matty, he liked being close and he didn’t care that they were making a spectacle of themselves on the dance floor. They were two halves of the same whole, and George ached when they were apart. 

“Do you want to get out of here?” George asked, leaning down to whisper into Matty’s ear, his breath hot against his ear. 

Matty pulled away, looking up at George with wide eyes, his pupils dilated from both the alcohol and arousal. 

“I thought you’d never ask.” 

Day: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 |

[cherrygirlystuff]

Messy Mascara: Mastering the Indie Sleaze Makeup Look 🌟

Indie sleaze beauty is all about embracing a bit of messiness and adding a touch of rebellious glamour to your makeup routine. It’s about smudged eyeliner, smoky eyes, and bold lips that make a statement. Here’s how to achieve that effortlessly cool indie sleaze look with some easy tutorials and inspiration.

1. The Smudged, Smoky Eye: The Signature Indie Sleaze Look 👁️

The smoky eye is a staple of indie sleaze beauty, and it’s all about that perfectly imperfect look. Here’s how to create the ultimate smoky eye with a touch of messiness:

Prep Your Eyes: Start with an eyeshadow primer to ensure your look lasts all day. This also helps to create a smooth base for blending.

Apply a Base Color: Use a neutral shade that matches your skin tone as a base. Apply it over your entire eyelid to create a smooth canvas.

Build the Smoky Effect: Apply a dark, smudgy eyeshadow (like charcoal, deep brown, or black) to your eyelid. Focus on the outer corner and blend it inward using a fluffy brush. Don’t worry about precision—indie sleaze is all about that effortless, smoky vibe.

Add Definition: Line your lower lash line with the same dark eyeshadow or a kohl pencil. Smudge it with a brush for that perfectly undone look. Use a lighter shade to highlight the inner corner and under your brow bone.

Finish with Mascara: Apply a few coats of mascara, making sure to add extra volume and a bit of clumpiness for that grungy effect. Don’t be afraid to let some mascara smudge a little—it adds to the vibe!

Smoky Eye Tip: For an extra edge, use a gel liner to create a winged effect and smudge it out for a dramatic, lived-in look.

2. Bold Lips: Adding a Pop of Rebellious Color 💋

Bold lips are the perfect complement to a smoky eye. They add a striking contrast and make your indie sleaze look stand out. Here’s how to rock a bold lip like a pro:

Choose Your Shade: Go for deep reds, plum shades, or even bright, unconventional colors like blue or green. Indie sleaze is all about pushing boundaries, so don’t be afraid to experiment.

Prep Your Lips: Exfoliate your lips to remove any dead skin. Apply a lip balm to keep your lips hydrated and smooth.

Apply Lip Liner: Use a lip liner that matches your lipstick shade to define your lips and prevent feathering. Outline your lips carefully and fill them in for a base color.

Apply Lipstick: Use a bold, pigmented lipstick and apply it evenly over your lips. For a more intense look, layer it on and press your lips together to blend the color.

Create a Messy Finish: Indie sleaze beauty embraces a bit of imperfection. Don’t worry about perfect edges—dab a little lipstick outside the lip line for a lived-in, smudged effect if you’re feeling daring.

Bold Lip Tip: For an extra touch of grunge, use a lip gloss or balm on top of your lipstick to give it a slightly messy, glossy finish.

3. Finishing Touches: Completing Your Indie Sleaze Look 🌟

To complete your indie sleaze look, add a few finishing touches that enhance your overall vibe:

Play with Blush: Apply a bit of blush to the apples of your cheeks and blend it upwards. For an indie touch, use a pink or peach shade and apply it with a light hand for a natural, flushed look.

Eyebrows: Keep your brows natural and a bit messy. Use a brow gel to add a touch of definition, but don’t go for perfect, sculpted brows. The indie sleaze look is all about that effortlessly cool style.

Accessorize: Add a few edgy accessories like studded earrings, layered necklaces, or a vintage-inspired headband to complete your look.

Finishing Touch Tip: For added drama, experiment with a touch of highlighter on your cheekbones and the bridge of your nose for a subtle glow that complements the smoky eye and bold lip.

Final Thoughts, Gorgeous: Embrace the Messy Mascara Vibe 🌟

And there you have it—your ultimate guide to mastering the indie sleaze makeup look with Messy Mascara! From smoky eyes and bold lips to embracing a bit of messiness and imperfection, indie sleaze beauty is all about attitude and effortless glamour. So go ahead, embrace your inner indie queen, and rock that grungy, rebellious look with confidence!

What’s your favorite indie sleaze makeup look? Share your tips and tricks in the comments—I’d love to see how you’re embracing the messy mascara vibe! 💕

[stevencook123]

How to Style an Afghani Dress in the USA

Elevate your wardrobe with an Afghani dress for women in USA and make a stunning style statement! Here’s how you can rock this gorgeous outfit:

✨ Pair it with Traditional Jewelry – Afghan chokers & bangles add an authentic touch. 👡 Choose the Right Footwear – Embroidered flats or stylish heels complete the look. 🧣 Accessorize with a Dupatta – A matching scarf enhances elegance. 💄 Go for Bold Makeup – A classic red lip or kohl-lined eyes bring out the beauty of the dress.

Where do you love wearing your Afghani dress? Let us know in the comments! 🥰

[myriamas]

who: @ryonwyl when and where: ryon wyl's return to sunspear is a night of long celebration, and myriam finds herself awaiting an opportunity to speak to the man who had admittedly proved her wrong. context: prior to her meeting with jaehaerys targaryen, ryon showed her a map and myriam went "oh the wyl of wyl is fucking nuts" - and then he done it.

the music of sunspear’s celebration was loud, the beat of drums reverberating through the sand-strewn courtyard. laughter and song filled the air, mingling with the scent of spiced wine and roasted lamb. myriam allyrion stood apart from the crowd, a figure draped in wine-coloured silk that shimmered like the dornish sky at dusk. her midriff was bare, save for the glint of a delicate gold chain at her waist and the small ruby stud that adorned her navel.

intricate tattoos of religious symbols curved gracefully along the column of her neck, half-revealed beneath the cascading waves of her dark hair; all this, to revel in the triumph of their victory. the prayers of thanks had been said, and now...now they celebrated.

she sipped her wine, the goblet cool against her fingers, and watched ryon wyl—the wyl of wyl, as he so proudly reminded anyone who’d forgotten—laugh heartily at some jest from his gathered admirers. his presence was as bold and commanding as she remembered, though tonight there was something different: the weight of undeniable triumph. when the moment presented itself—his audience thinning but not empty, his laughter settling—myriam made her way forward. the delicate chime of her anklets announced her approach, but her voice carried over the noise, smooth and warm as the honeyed wine in her cup.

“lord wyl,” she began, tilting her head slightly, a playful glint in her kohl-lined eyes. “it seems i owe you an apology.” ryon turned, his broad grin widening as he regarded her. she held his gaze, unflinching, the firelight reflecting in the dark pools of her eyes. “not long ago, this lord showed me a map,” she continued, her tone conversational yet deliberate as she pointed her goblet toward him, “and spoke of nightsong as though it were already dornish land. i remember thinking you’d gone mad. i may have even said as much aloud...and more.” there was a knowing look which momentarily crossed her features; she had all but cursed him as a madman, her mouth rather dirty.

a soft laugh escaped her, self-deprecating and light, though her expression remained steady. “the wyl of wyl, proven right, and me proven… well, perhaps not wrong, but certainly less imaginative than i ought to have been.” she raised her goblet, the wine within catching the glow of the torches. “to you, lord wyl. dorne owes you more than songs and feasts, though tonight, at least, we’ll start with those.” her gaze fixed with his across the sounds of cheers, of triumph; if there was one thing she had always known how to do, it was get a party started.

her words lingered in the air, and for a moment, she let the hum of the celebration fill the space between them. myriam lowered her goblet and stepped closer, her voice dropping slightly, though it remained steady. "don't get used to this." she had found herself quietly appreciating his boldness, his hard line determination - his willingness to push boundaries.

[cruel-kaya]

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Kaya was someone who lived up to her name. Forgiveness, wise child and restful place, they all fit her pretty well. A young woman navigating the world with her eager kohl-rimmed eyes, Kaya knew she didn't belong here. A rock for her loved ones, her eyes filled with compassion, her lips uttering sweet nothings to them, her hands reaching out to pick up the vulnerable and her heart bursting with love. She yearned for a love too deep, a love too kind. But the world doesn't belong to the romantics, right? A girl too fierce yet a girl too fragile, a girl so bold yet a girl too soft. The world didn't know who Hector was, but the world knows who Kaya is.

@hectorfrombritain did you write this for me 😭 omgggg I am left fan-girling over how beautiful your writing is....

It's so difficult to take the aura of someone as a fictional character but you did it sooooo well 😭🤌🏻✨

The line kohl rimmed eyes , you remembered how much I adore the Kohl in my eyes

And the world knows Kaya but so does the world knows Hector as someone~ someone so mysterious he feels like the reflection of moon in water , so alluring and so pure....

[onwesterlywinds]

PROMPT #12: Dowdy

The captain of the Queensguard knocked on her door for the third time with far more forceful insistence.

"If you don't come out from there in two minutes," she snapped, "it'll be my head on the line."

Vera's lord husband was a patient man in many respects, but he did not abide tardiness in any form - unless, of course, it came directly from the emperor. Every bell of his schedule was accounted for; he even blocked out time for how long it would take him to traverse the corridors of the palace. He had expected the same discipline in Vera ever since their wedding, the same rigid punctuality, and would make it quite clear to her whenever she failed in his eyes.

And despite their name, the Queensguard very much reported to the viceroy.

"I'm finishing my makeup," Vera explained for the umpteenth time.

The doorknob rattled - then there came the sound of the inevitable key scraping in the lock, and the door flew open. Fordola stormed in with all the fury of an invader. "You've been 'finishing your makeup' for twenty bloody minutes. I've watched you do it in under five most mornings this week."

"Sometimes, believe it or not," said Vera, unable to keep her voice from rising, "people make mistakes. And outside of washing one's entire face, mistakes in kohl are not so simple to undo." Even now, she had to hope that no one would look too closely at the slight smear under her right eye.

Fordola levied one of her signature scoffs and crossed her arms over her chest. "Enough of this. You look fine - beautiful, even." The venom in her voice made it clear what she thought of such a distinction. "Is that what you need to get your arse moving, my lady?"

"I need," said Vera, "just another moment of silent concentration. Before my hand slips again."

Blessedly, Fordola gave it to her, and without any of the huffing Vera had come to expect. With only another couple of strokes of her brush and a single line of her pencil, she was finished, her shadows perfectly balanced. "And there we have it. I'm ready."

But Fordola did not move. She continued staring at Vera, and herself, in the ornate desktop mirror that had allegedly once belonged to Mad King Theodoric's mother. "Why even bother?" she muttered.

"What?"

At first, Vera could only interpret her words as referring to her impending meeting with the viceroy in the throne room. Then she saw where Fordola's gaze had fallen: to the ceramic bowl of kohl powder atop the table, its lid still off to one side.

"Don't be daft. I know you hear what they say about you - Livia and all the rest. You'll never be Garlean enough for any of them. It's why His Radiance married you off and dumped you here."

Vera did not stand from her stool. She stared back into the mirror at Fordola's face, at the bitterness clenched in the curve of her mouth, and realized only then that she could not find it in herself to be angry at Fordola for the words she parroted. "I don't wear makeup to look Garlean, Fordola," she said. "Besides, it was Ala Mhigans who invented it."

The young captain could only stare at her, as if she had spoken in some language that belonged to neither of them.

"Thousands of years ago, we wore eyeliner and eye shadow to protect our vision from the sun and, yes, intimidate our enemies on the battlefield. From our ancestors, it spread to Thavnair and Ul'dah through trade. Only now that the Garleans have deemed it a luxury do they think themselves the arbiters of its use." She made to pick up her brushes, to set the lid back onto the kohl, and hesitated at the look on Fordola's face. "…You should try it. See how you like it."

"Absolutely not," she snapped.

"I think it would suit your features."

Something in that statement stunned Fordola enough for Vera to guide her onto the makeup stool. For Fordola, she scarcely needed a plan: she employed bold strokes above and below the eyes, traditional yet masculine in a way that made her irises seem to shine with the same colors as the tattoo upon her cheek. She was finished within a matter of seconds, not minutes; all the same, Fordola took only a moment to admire herself before standing with a scowl. "We're late. And now everyone will see the reason why."

"Or," Vera shot back, "they'll see we look like warriors."

All the same, they rushed to the throne room with as quick of a stride as they could muster, turning the heads of the guards more for their haste than their aesthetics.

The viceroy sat upon the throne, much as he usually did at that hour of the day, and the first petitioner had already been granted admission. His words faded into silence as she approached, until the echoes of her heels against the polished tile filled the chamber.

"Vera," said Gaius van Baelsar. "My instructions were for you to join me for petitions at noon. The time is now twelve minutes past."

Behind his shoulder, Gaius' Undercity minder sneered at her. The prick in red armor whose name she could never remember whispered something to Livia, who bit back a snort of laughter.

Vera readjusted her stance, trying to channel every ilm of her father's posture. "I was tending to an urgent personal correspondence."

Gaius' brow furrowed. "More urgent than your attention to your people? The people for whom you and I are responsible?"

She turned back to the Ala Mhigan man standing, his hands clasped together in front of him, at the foot of the throne. "…No," she conceded. "I apologize, my lord."

But Gaius said nothing in reply, and merely gestured to the man before them.

To him, Vera inclined her head. "I apologize, countryman-" It would have to do, as she had arrived too late to hear his official imperial rank. "-that other matters prevented my timely presence."

The wording was petty, and she knew it; later, she would hear an entire lecture from her lord husband on accountability, and the burden of rule. There would be entire missives sent to Solus and her father about her impertinence, and her selfishness, and a host of other imagined failings. For the time being, Gaius merely sighed and said, "Fordola."

"Yes, ser."

"…See that vanity is removed from her daily schedule."

[londonbeautyacademyofficial]

✨Glam Indian Traditional Makeup Look | Bridal & Festive Ready! 💄💫

Description:

Unleash your inner desi diva with this stunning Indian traditional makeup look! ✨ Whether you're dressing up for a wedding, festival, or special occasion, this look features flawless glowing skin, bold kohl-lined eyes, and a statement lip—perfectly complementing your saree, lehenga, or anarkali! 💃💖

From bridal beauty to festive glam, this timeless makeup is all about elegance and grace. Save this look for your next big event! 📌💄

💫 Tag a friend who would love this transformation!

[tapan0169]

How to Create a Timeless Makeup Look for Your Wedding Reception

Your reception wedding day is one of your most cherished occasions in life, to be at such a place in life and then look at these moments that remain with you long after they pass. Perfectly flawless and evergreen makeup ensures that the event leaves your picture as unforgettable to your guests. If you’re looking for guidance to achieve that perfect look, Kajol R Paswwan is here to help. Let’s explore some expert tips and techniques to create an elegant and unforgettable bridal transformation. 

1. Start with a Flawless Base

The foundation of timeless wedding makeup is smooth, radiant skin. To achieve this:

Skin Prep: Start with a hydrating cleanser and a nourishing moisturizer. A glowing base always starts with well-hydrated skin.  

Primer Power:��A primer blurs imperfections and helps your makeup last longer throughout the day and night.

Natural Coverage: Opt for a liquid foundation or matte foundation that matches your skin tone perfectly. Blend well using a sponge for a seamless, natural wedding makeup finish.  

At Kajol R Paswwan, our experts can guide you with skincare routines and pre-wedding skin treatments that enhance your natural glow, ensuring your skin is camera-ready. 

2. Focus on Wedding Eye Makeup

Your eyes are the windows to your soul, and for a wedding reception, they deserve extra attention. 

Smokey Eye Makeup for Wedding: A subtle smokey eye is a timeless choice. Use neutral shades like bronze, taupe, or soft black to create a sophisticated look. Blend thoroughly for a soft, diffused effect.

Shimmer & Glam: Add a hint of champagne shimmer on your lids for a touch of glamour.  

Lash Drama: Use volumizing mascara and false lashes for a dramatic effect. The combination of smokey eye makeup for wedding receptions and fluttery lashes ensures your eyes stand out.  

Define with Eyeliner: A winged or tight-lined eyeliner can further enhance your wedding eye makeup. 

3. Blush & Highlight for a Natural Glow

Soft, rosy cheeks and a luminous glow are the keys to creating a natural makeup look for weddings.  

Opt for a blush shade that would complement your skin tone, whether it’s pink, peach, or coral.

With a highlighter on the high areas of your face, which includes the cheekbones, bridge of the nose, and cupid’s bow, put a lot of a glowing sheen.

Simple saree makeup for weddings ensures that the blush is understated and natural so that the attention remains on the overall look itself.

4. The Ideal Lip Color

Your lip color helps tie the entire wedding makeup look together. 

Nude Elegance: Opt for nude matte lipstick colors that complement your natural lip color for a simple, natural look. 

Bold Statement: To make a bold statement, use deep red, berry, or plum. 

Use a lip liner to define the shape of your lips and prevent feathering. 

5. Simple Saree Makeup for Wedding Receptions

If you’re wearing a saree for your wedding reception, your makeup should align with its elegance and simplicity.  

Keep your base minimal with light contouring.  

Add a soft shimmer to your eyes and pair it with kohl-lined lids for a traditional touch.  

Use a bindi and subtle highlighter to complete the look.

This simple saree makeup for weddings is a timeless look that exudes effortless grace.

6. Best Hairstyles for Wedding Receptions

Not only must your hairstyle complement your makeup and outfit, but it also has to have a mirror image in it to complete the look. Some timeless favorites include:

Elegant Updos: Sleek bun or chignon with fresh flowers or accessories.

Soft Waves: Loose curls or waves cascading over your shoulders for a romantic touch. 

Braided Styles: Incorporate braids into your hairstyle for a boho-chic vibe. 

Kajol R Paswwan Academy hair experts can help you decide on the best hairstyle for wedding receptions, ensuring it flatters your face shape and complements your overall look.

7. Natural Wedding Makeup

A natural makeup look for wedding involves the enhancement of the features rather than heavy application.

Keep the eyeshadow colors neutral, like browns and nudes. 

Less eyeliner and subtle blush will also keep your look very understated and remarkably alluring. 

A glossy nude lip with gloss will seal this look that looks fresh and elegant.

8. Wedding Reception Hair and Makeup

Coordinating your hair and makeup is vital to achieving a cohesive look.  

For bold wedding eye makeup, keep your hair makeup for wedding sleek and simple to balance the look.  

If you’re going for a dramatic hairstyle, opt for softer, more natural makeup to avoid overpowering your features.  

Use setting sprays and hair sprays to ensure your look stays intact throughout the event. 

9. Wedding Makeover Services at Kajol R Paswwan

At Kajol R Paswwan we offer you makeover solutions for the wedding day to suit your requirements. We provide: 

Pre-Wedding Skincare: customized treatments for skin issues like dullness, pigmentation, or acne, leaving you looking vibrant on your big day.

Hair Treatments: From nourishing hair therapies to styling consultations, our experts can help you achieve the best hairstyle for wedding receptions.  

Makeup Consultations: Our team can guide you on choosing the right products and techniques for your desired look, whether it’s natural wedding makeup or a glamorous smokey eye. 

10. Additional Tips for a Timeless Look

Hydration is the key: Keep hydrated a few weeks before your wedding. 

Trial Session: Always book a trial session for finalizing makeup and hairstyle. 

Long-Lasting products: Use waterproof and smudge-proof products so that your look remains intact. 

Carry a touch-up kit in an emergency: Carry lip colors, blotting papers, and a compact to give yourself a mid-event touch-up in the parlor near your venue.

Here, you celebrate love, joy, and beauty with your wedding reception. You will find a great look to characterize your personality if you are focused on timeless wedding makeup, easy pieces of simple saree makeup for wedding events, and a hairstyle to enhance your features.

Kajol R Paswwan is here to support you every step of the way with expert wedding makeover services, ensuring you look and feel your absolute best. Whether it’s flawless skin, choosing the best hairstyle for a wedding, or perfecting your wedding eye makeup, we’re dedicated to making your special day unforgettable.  

Follow these tips and walk into your wedding reception radiating elegance and confidence!