#but it certainly is a good bit more than I had

[covenofagatha]

Spitroasting with g!p Agatha and g!p Rio

*gasp* who said that 🫢

I'm definitely not thinking about the same thing 👀 anyways...

Two is better than one

Word count: 1.7k

Warnings: g!p Agatha, g!p Rio, spitroasting, daddy Rio, mommy Agatha, threesome, squirting, degradation, praise, light spanking

When Agatha gets home from work, the first thing she hears when she steps into the kitchen is the faint sound of slapping skin and your high-pitched whines and she chuckles to herself. 

Rio was always easier to break than she was, all it took is that doe-eyed look you do so well coupled with a daddy, please, and Rio couldn’t resist. 

So Agatha slowly steps up the stairs, careful to not make a sound lest she alert either of you. She creeps to the doorway and peeks around it, and the fabric of her pants instantly tightens. 

Rio’s got you on your knees and elbows on the bed, one hand wound in your hair, the other gripping your hip tightly, while she quickly thrusts her cock inside you. When she draws out, Agatha can see her length glistening with your wetness. Rio’s face is contorted with pleasure and Agatha wonders how long she’s been fucking you. 

“Tell me how good I’m making you feel,” Rio barks, slapping her hand on your ass and you emit another moan. 

It takes you a moment to respond because of the dizziness in your head. “So fucking good, daddy, your cock is so deep inside me — fuck, daddy, please!” 

“Better hope mommy doesn’t come home and see what a slut you’re being right now,” Rio grunts, pushing you down further into the mattress and you gasp at the new angle. She’s hitting your g-spot with every time and you can feel your orgasm building up. Tension is coiling in your body and you just need a bit more—

“Oh, well mommy is here,” Agatha says, stepping into the room and clapping slowly. “And she certainly does see what a slut you are.” Rio freezes inside you, her cock pulsing. You turn your head to watch Agatha walk over to you while you start to lazily move back and forth on Rio’s cock, who hisses. You’re by the edge of the bed so she comes to stand right in front of you.

“Hi, mommy,” you greet casually amidst the squelching sounds you’re making. If you act like her darling little girl, maybe she won’t punish you too badly. There’s an unspoken rule that you and Rio have to get Agatha’s permission before having sex, and you definitely didn’t today. 

In fact, Agatha told you this morning before she left in no uncertain terms, that you and Rio had to wait until she got home today. 

But then you had gotten horny and it doesn’t take much to convince Rio to fuck you. 

“Hi, sweetheart,” she says, tracing her fingers over your lips before shoving them into your mouth. You gag, eyes rolling to look up at her through your eyelashes, and you don’t miss the flicker of heat in her eyes. “You know I could hear you the second I got home?” 

You try to look embarrassed. “Whoops.” 

Agatha huffs out a laugh and pulls her sticky fingers out before wiping them on your cheeks. “Well, if you want the entire neighborhood to know what a slut you are for us, that’s fine.” She unbuckles her belt from her pants, slides it out, and throws it somewhere across the room. “But, you see, honey, mommy and daddy have a reputation to uphold.” She undoes the button to her pants and drags the zipper down slowly. “So I think I need to shut you up.” 

She pulls out her already-hard cock and you involuntarily clench around Rio. Her nails dig into your hips but you barely even feel it over how drunk you feel. You’ve never had both of them inside you at the same time. 

“Keep going, Rio,” Agatha orders, stroking her cock and watching the way your face changes when Rio starts to thrust back into you roughly. Agatha’s cock gets harder under her hand and your mouth is watering from the thought of tasting her. 

Rio’s cock is longer, but Agatha’s is girthier, so your jaw always hurts more after giving the older woman a blowjob. But the ache is delicious during it, and you can’t even imagine how good it’s going to feel to have Rio this deep inside you while Agatha fucks your mouth. 

Agatha waits until you’re a moaning mess before knocking Rio’s hand that’s holding onto your hair aside, taking its place with her own hand, and dragging her hot cock against your lips. She spreads her precum all over you, getting your cheeks and chin covered as well, before positioning it at your open mouth. 

You look up at her pleadingly and she slaps her cock against your stuck-out tongue a few times, making you moan at the weight. 

And then she pushes in all while Rio is pounding into you hard. 

Agatha starts out with shallow thrusts, just bobbing into your mouth and pulling back, and Rio’s grunts get louder behind you, her pace becoming more erratic. 

When Agatha finally gets her cock all the way down your throat, she pauses for a moment and just revels in the way your mouth feels around her, and you hollow out your cheeks and suck, making her whimper. 

Rio slows down, more than likely to stave off her own orgasm, so you’re being gently rocked forward onto Agatha’s cock. But then Agatha starts to move her hips and Rio matches her, and they’re both using you at the same time and you’ve never felt pleasure this intense before. 

“Look at our little whore, Rio,” Agatha chokes out and you can barely hear her over the wet sounds from your cunt and your gagging. You cough around her cock and it sends spittle pouring down your chin. “Taking both our cocks like the good slut she is. So fucking desperate for us. Oh, fuck—” You rub your tongue against the underside of her cock, where she’s really sensitive, and she pitches forward. 

“Such a good girl for mommy and daddy,” Rio coos before spanking you roughly. You whimper and the vibrations make Agatha’s hand tighten in your hair. Your jaw starts to burn but you try to relax and open a bit wider so Agatha can keep using your mouth. “Are we making you feel good, doll?” 

You babble something but it’s completely unintelligible with Agatha’s cock in your mouth and the fog in your brain, so you settle for nodding your head. Rio pulls your hips up to arch your back even more and you moan loudly, but it’s muffled. Rio is hitting so deep inside you that your toes are curling and your eyes are rolling back into your head. Both of their cocks are throbbing inside you and you know none of you are going to be able to last much longer. 

Your pussy clenches sporadically around Rio’s cock and your throat convulses around Agatha’s, and both of them are grunting with the effort of fucking you. You miss the shared glance between them and then all of a sudden, their thrusts match. They both push in and out of you at the same time and it’s completely overwhelming. 

“So fucking good,” Agatha rasps, both of them speeding up and your eyes gloss over. Tension like you’ve never felt is skating through your body, heat thrumming in your veins, and you feel everything. It’s all heightened — the way Rio’s cock drags against your walls, the way Agatha’s cock twitches against your tongue, you’re hyper-aware of Rio’s nails in your hips and Agatha’s hands both tangled in your hair. “Taking our cocks like a perfect slut. Our perfect slut. So good for mommy and daddy.” 

Rio starts to rut into you, shallowly but still quickly, and it feels like her cock is swelling inside you. “Fuck, doll, daddy’s gonna cum.” 

A thrill runs through you and you clench around her even more, but Agatha tightly says, “Not yet. Wait for me. We’re going to fill her up at the same time.” A loud keen rips itself out of your mouth, clear as day even with Agatha’s rough thrusts. Your throat is raw and your jaw is aching and tears are pouring down your face, mixing with the saliva on your chin, but you’re so fucking close and you need them to cum. Pressure is building up in your stomach in a way that’s never happened before, almost like you have to pee. 

But then they both give you a really hard thrust and the pressure explodes. You let out a sob and then you feel a gush of wetness and instant relief and Rio whimpers. 

“She fucking squirted,” Rio moans in awe, her breathing growing heavier. Agatha makes a pained sound and you know that they’re both so close.

So you suck Agatha’s cock roughly and she swears before stiffening. Rio sees this and drives her hips into you one last time before their warm seed spreads. You fall apart even more as they pump their cum into you, all three of you groaning and grunting. 

Agatha pulls out first and you gasp for breath, the cum that you didn’t swallow leaking out the side of your mouth. She cleans her cock off using your face and then swipes at the trail of cum with a finger and stuffs it back into your mouth. 

Rio stays inside you until she softens, both of you enjoying the feeling of her twitching every now and then when you clench from an aftershock. When her cock slips out of your body, her cum oozes out in globs and you fall onto the bed, absolutely spent and panting. 

The younger woman comes to stand in front of you next to Agatha and you can see how absolutely soaked you got her. There’s another pang of heat inside you when you take in how wet their cocks are. 

Agatha begins to slowly stroke hers and your breath catches in your throat when it slowly starts to harden again. 

“Let’s give her a second to recover,” she says, looking at Rio, “and then we switch. I want to know how her pussy feels after you’ve already cum inside it.” 

You can’t help the moan that escapes you. 

Fuck. 

@lostbutlovely33 @diorrxckstar @whoreforolderfictionalwomen  @katekathry @onemansdreamisanothermansdeath @tayasmellsapples @natashashill @mybraininblood @mysticalmoonlight7  @cactuslover2600 @loveem0mo @readysteddiero-nance @lonelyhalfwitch @lesbiantortilla @crescendoofstars @sol-in-wonderland @ahsfan05 @gbab09 @sasheemo @agathaharness @live-laugh-love-lupone @chiar4anna @fuckedupforkhahn @lowlyjelly @sweetmidnights @n3bula-cats @m1vfs

[f1fantasys]

Thought you were mine all along, guess I was wrong - Part 4

Summary - events following that morning.

Warnings - smut, f! receiving oral, p in v sex, ANGST.

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3.

''Mmm, yeah, got it'' he said, deep British accent coming through.

You winced at the hurt look in his eyes before he shook his head, a look of disgust thrown your way.

You wanted to react, almost justify yourself, but you held back.

Lando had no right to react like this. Why did he think it was okay when he did it, but not when you did? Still, it didn't make it easier being in this situation. You didn't sleep with Mitch to get a reaction from Lando. You slept with him because you were a vulnerable and emotional roller coaster and he happened to be there for you.

Time stood still for a couple of minutes, Lando's eyes turned shades darker, having an anger you'd never seen before, not at anyone else and certainly not towards you.

Just as he opened his mouth to say something, you slammed the door closed on him. Not interested in what he had to say, no matter how wrong it felt to shut him out like this.

You turned towards Mitch who was still lying in bed, concern etched over his face as you leaned your body back, trembling at how the last few minutes unfolded.

''You okay?'' Mitch asked, climbing out of bed and working on wearing his clothes again.

You couldn't have reacted faster if you wanted to, because desperate to stop him, you lunged forward, stooping him from getting dressed.

''Stay? Please'' you whispered, afraid he'd say no. This probably wasn't a good idea but your body was craving a good fuck, and fortunately or unfortunately, Mitch was at your service, hopefully.

But he smiled, before his hands were on your thighs, lifting you up before practically throwing you on the bed.

Hovering above you, Mitch leaned down to feverishly kiss you, sloppy but slow, tongues battling each other while his hands roamed your body, ripping his t-shirt off of you.

You groaned at the feeling of his hot tongue lapping at your hardened nipples, gripping at his hair tightly in the hopes he'd give you more than that.

''Please, Mitch'' you begged.

He kept his eyes on yours as he moved his mouth lower down your torso, spreading your legs wide apart before finally giving your cunt the attention it craved.

''Fuck'' you hissed, fisting the bed sheets as his tongue devoured your pussy, bruising your clit because he was relentless, and not wasting time in thrusting two fingers through your hole.

''Yes, please, oh god'' you moaned, already feeling an impending orgasm, and with a few flicks on your clit, you were gushing all over his face, though he didn't slow down one bit.

''Need you, please'' you whined breathlessly, quickly following up with more moans.

''Know you got one more in you before I fuck you'' he said, his roughly morning voice turning you on even more.

''Hmm, want y-'' you were cut off quickly when Mitch added a third finger to the mix, each thrust brushing against your g-spot which had you let out a series of pornographic moans, and in no time another orgasm took over your body, your fluids oozing out of you as he licked you clean of every drop.

''Such a fucking good girl'' he praised you, bringing his lips up to yours for a peck before shoving his glistening fingers into your mouth.

You don't know where you got the sudden burst of energy from, but you somehow managed to flip your positions so you were now straddling him, but, before you could even make a move or comprehend what was happening, Mitch had lined his dick with your cunt before thrusting up harshly.

It took a few relentless thrusts from him for your brain to catch up to what was happening. ''Fuck, Mitch, condom!'' you all but yelled as he suddenly stopped his movements, slipping out of you with ease.

''Shit'' he hissed, as you quickly climbed off him and reached for the packet on his side table.

You ripped it open eagerly before sliding it down his thick shaft, quickly resuming your position, and sinking down on him again.

You moaned at the feeling, walls clenching almost painfully around him as you started a quick pace, nails digging into his shoulders as you held on to him sliding up and down his dick.

''That's it, fuck, so tight'' he mumbled, pulling you down for a dirty kiss and bring his hand up to pinch your clit.

''Fuck, Mitch'' you panted, another orgasm threatening to take over your body that already felt like jelly so Mitch had to meet your halfway, thrusting his hips into your brutally.

You were done for when he leaned forward and bit down on your nipples, rolling them between his lips before swirling his tongue around the buds. Your orgasm gushing through you as your body collapsed down onto his, as he picked up the pace, chasing his own high now.

Your mid blanked, body shaking, and before you knew it Mitch had swapped your positions, him now towering over you as he pounded in and out of your cunt. You could feel his dick start to twitch, the feeling of it sending your body over the edge again as you cried out his name, and it wasn't long after that he followed behind you, his hips jittering as he came inside the condom before letting all his weight fall on you.

A sheen of sweat had long covered both your bodies, and the cool air now that you came down from your high had you both shivering.

Eventually, Mitch pulled out, helped you clean up, and gave you a quick pep talk on how not to get your heart broken. It was all good humor but he cared about you, and you were just grateful he was there. You didn't know when next you'd see him, but you'd both agreed to keep in touch more often.

The flight back to Monaco had your mind spiraling. You wanted to hate Lando, be mad at him, but you couldn't. He'd become a constant in your life and now with everything going on, you don't know if you'd every recover from losing someone like him. He quickly became your world, neither you nor him realizing it.

The weeks that went by after were a blur. You felt like you were functioning on auto-pilot - just for the sake of it. More often that not, your Instagram was filled with new Lando and Magui pictures, the it couple at the moment.

A random Tuesday night there was a knock at your door. It was well past 12am, and when you opened the door all the air left your lungs.

Lando stood there, a Quadrant tracksuit and backwards cap. Looking sexy as fuck.

''Can we...talk?''

You let out your breath, tears already prickling your eyes because of the sensitive soul you were. You knew you'd have to face him at some point at the races, but right now you now you wished you had a bit more time to build up a few blocks to protect your heart.

''There really isn't anything to say...'' you said, not moving to let him in.

He gave you pleading eyes, and eventually you stepped to the side, letting him walk in to your lounge.

There was a time where as soon as his foot was through the door, he's be kissing you senseless before throwing you over his shoulder, walking to your bedroom to fuck you like there was no tomorrow.

Not tonight though.

You sat at opposite ends of a couch.

Finally, he broke the silence with a chuckle, quoting you, and catching you off guard.

''There really isn't anything to say..yeah..easy for you to say, what with fucking Mitch so quickly''

''Lando seriously, grow the fuck up. How is it okay for you to move on, and not okay for me to?''

''Move on from what? We were nothing, it was just sex''

His words crushed your heart, but you held back your tears because he didn't deserve to see you like this.

''Yeah, exactly, it was just sex, so why is me fucking Mitch at the minute a problem? you said, voice like stone.

''You're over reacting'' he sighed, leaning forward and running a hand through his hair.

''Am I? You're the one who wanted to talk. So talk''

He stayed silent.

''Like i said, i have nothing to say. You're the one who decided to stop...the sex, whatever..so why are you here?''

Lando's eyes found yours with a look you couldn't place, anger? hurt? pleading? you weren't sure.

''Lando'' you pressed, standing up, hoping he'd get the hint and leave because you were this close to breaking down.

''Magui's pregnant''

2 words.

2 words that threw you off. You body suddenly feeling like jelly, and not in a good way. Your mind went back to all the good times you had with him. How you more than often allowed yourself to picture an actual future with Lando because he always promised you the world and more. He tret you with such an intensity that wouldn't be there if you were regular fuck buddies. There was almost so much more with him. And it wasn't like you jumped straight into bed the first time you saw him. No. You'd become such close friends, who grew into a friends with benefits relationship. You'd respected him too much to only want him for a shag. And now he confirmed that it was just that. A good shag from time to time.

''What?'' you barely whispered, sitting down again, a few tears rolling down your cheek as your whole body heated up.

''Yeah...'' he said, before he got up, and without looking back at you, walked out of your apartment.

You sat there in shock, a wave of sadness washing over you as your body trembled. It was truly over. He was having a baby with someone else. You couldn't help but let a few sobs leave your body, your heart aching in a way you never thought possible. Also, what did he gain by telling you this and walking out on you?

As you went to bed that night, another thought crossed your mind and broke you even more. It had only been around 5 weeks since Lando said he was seeing Magui. Surely she couldn't already be pregnant, right?

Unless they got together while the two of you were still...

Another wreck of sobs took over. You'd never labelled whatever you had going on, and you never discussed exclusivity. You certainly hadn't gotten with anyone else, but now with everything going on, you felt like a fool. He was Lando Norris. Of course girls were throwing themselves at him, and would he really deny them all just because of you?

You didn't think so.

A/N - hope you all enjoyed this twist!! Let me know what you think.

Taglist - @somanyfandomsbruh @lanf1an @annimausi @ernegren @plotpal @hurtblossom @rbv3rstappen @tylerstacobell @wanderingreigns @bowielovesyou @alexanderachillesisgay @sarx164 @xoxomansee @hurtblossom @ihtscuddlesbeeetchx3 @msimpala-67 @jxnellat @chlmtfilms @abq654 @ernegren @stav2004 @myformula1addiction @ayap4paya @l0nelyhe4rts-club @callsignwidow widow-cevans meglouise00 @hoeforsirius @hahdb8 @cmleitora @oscahpastry @maxv33rstappen @saythename-sm

[omid-1]

NOT YOUR TYPE? ✮⋆˙— LHS

Pairing: Popular college student! Heeseung x fem! college student!reader

Summary: Lee Heeseung is a well-known boy at your college from his reputation as a pick-up artist. What happens if your best friend Sora has been seeing him for a few weeks but he is apparently more interested in you?

Word Count: 6k

Genre: smut, a little angst, college au

Warnings: 18+,mdni, smut, cheating, semi public sex, creampie, doggy style, unresolved feelings,making out, Heeseung is kinda red flag, pet names (slut, good girl, baby, whore etc), dirty talking, fingering, hair pulling,handjob, unprotected sex (don’t do it!), dom!mean heeseung, sub!reader, YN is shitty friend, squirting, fingering, oral (both receiving), deepthroating, cursing, pussy eating, smoking (sorry if I missed sth)

PLAYLIST: Toxic by Britney Spears, Run for the hills by Tate McRae, I was never there by The Weekend, Guilty as sin? by Taylor Swift, Can’t remember to forget you by Shakira, Rihanna, Guilty conscience by Tate McRae

English is not my first language so sorry if there are any mistakes

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・.

,, I dont know what you all see in him, but he is not my type”

These are your words about one of the most popular guys on your collage Lee heeseung. He is mostly known for his reputation as a bad boy and a heartbreaker of girls.

Heeseung is by appearance the ideal of every girl. Tall, athletic and has that charm about him that is hard not to give in to.

You have often heard various rumors about him, that he always has to have a girl with him and it is a one-night stand. You don't think you've ever heard that he had a relationship with a girl for more than a few weeks.

He probably and rather certainly doesn’t like to have any permanent relationships. You didn't know him personally so you have no opinion about him, but you believe the rumors.

For a typical boy, he goes to frat parties usually with his two friends Jake and Jay. He doesn't have a lot of friends probably even just those two. He is so popular and doesn't have a lot of friends, a bit surprising, but on the other hand normal since he doesn't like to get attached to anyone.

By a certain point, everything had changed quite a bit. Your friend Sora confessed to you and your friends that she have been texting with a heeseung for few weeks and they have even been to several meetings.

Your friends were curious and happy for her. For you, frankly, there was something strange about it. You’ve heard a lot of things about heeseung. You really doubted that he would change his behavior and settle down with any girl.

He might break your friend's heart like any other girl but as long as she was happy with him then you were too.

You were sitting on your lunch break in the cafeteria at your university. You were sipping coffee and just listening to what your friends were saying about heeseung. When they asked you about your opinion of him they were puzzled.

How was Heeseung not your type?

One of your friends Suji has a very surprised face and she says "dear, I don't think you know what you are saying?"

You giggle quietly, raise an eyebrow and say firmly "Not that there is anything, but I have a feeling that there is something weird about him? Or maybe it's all because of the rumors I've heard about him."

You see that Sora looks at you with a soft smile and she speaks ''I understand YN that you are worried about me. If you want I can meet you with Heeseung cause his friend is holding a party and you can come too.''

You thought it was a good idea because you haven’t been to an party in a long time and secondly you were curious about Heeseung.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・.

It’s a Saturday night and you walk into the house of Jake, the boy who is organizing the party . You look amazing. You're wearing a short black dress that perfectly accentuates your body, a leather jacket and heeled boots. You also decided to put on delicate make up.

You go with your friends Sora,Suji and Nari to the kitchen for drinks. For a typical party, it's crowded and loud with conversation and music.

Nari pours you vodka and some liquor. You notice that jay and heeseung enter the kitchen. Sora, all in larks, approaches Heeseung with the biggest smile.

You sip your drink and keep more to the side of the conversation. You catch eye contact with heeseung and gently smile at him, but he doesn’t reciprocate the smile but looks the other way.

The whole evening passes you quite normally as for any party. You drink, dance and talk with friends. As for Heeseung, you have to admit that he is suspicious even very much.

Sora keeps sticking next to Heeseung all the night, talking to him, and you get the feeling that he is not interested in her at all. But what caught your attention is, you constantly feel and see Heeseung's gaze on you. It doesn't matter if you say something or just sit in silence.

His eyes are on you.

You feel a little uncomfortable with this but you try not to pay attention to it. What else has caught your attention is, when you say something in a circle of friends and heeseung is there he always interrupts you, changes the topic or just makes a comment.

It annoys you because you haven't even exchanged a word with him this evening or even in your entire life and he already looks like he has some problem to you that you don't know.

Jay suggested that you play a game of bottle. You sit in a circle on the ground in a room upstairs where it's quieter.

You start the game. At the beginning the bottle draws Jake. He chooses the dare. You are not too focused on what is happening in the game.

Not when there's a heeseung sitting in front of you. You think to yourself did he always look so good, or was it you who never noticed it?

You stare at him. Then the bottle draws you Nuri awakens you from your thoughts. She says loudly "YN Your turn! Truth or dare?"

You shake yourself off and panic. What if someone noticed you staring at him? You quickly answer "truth”

For a moment you look at your friend, but then heeseung speaks „Can I choose?"

Your heart beat faster when, for the first time that evening, Heeseung said something to you or rather proposed something.

You nod and you're already worried about what he wants to ask you ,,which boy in this group is most your type and which is least?"

Heeseung looks at you intensely and has a stupidly attractive grin. It intimidates you and you can't keep eye contact with him. You know how much you can screw up with your answer and you panic.

,,Most my type? Probably Jake and the least Heeseung”

You bite your lip nervously and your face is flushed. You quickly cast a glance at the heeseung and God. His smile is gone and he looks so serious now. It's as if he's pissed off for your answer. Somehow it makes him even more attractive.

But you don't regret your answer because, nevertheless, you knew how your friend is in love with him up to his ears (although you can see that he doesn’t reciprocate it) and even earlier you told your friends that he is not your.

Well, you told, most likely it has changed, right?

After the game is over, you go out to the backyard to take a breath of fresh air. You sit down on the terrace steps. You are already tired and you want to go home.

Suddenly you hear footsteps behind you. You turn around. You see heeseung who walks towards you. As he gets closer he asks "Can I sit here?"

You nod. He sits down keeping distance between you. You watch as he removes cigarettes and a lighter from his pocket.

He lights a cigarette and it's not hard to miss the way you stare at him. But who wouldn't when he looks so sexy?

The light from the terrace highlights his sharp facial features and strands of hair lie perfectly on his forehead. You wouldn't think smoking a cigarette could be such a hot sight.

Heeseung notices you staring and his smile widens. He lets the smoke slowly out of his mouth and he says „I thought Im not your type”

You look ahead and keep a stone face. You can't show him any emotion because, however, it would be unfair of you because he is your friend's love interest.

,,shouldn't you be with sora?” You don't answer his words but you speak coldly and raise an eyebrow.

He doesn’t hide his smile and shrugs his shoulders ,, she is probably very drunk and having a good time with girls or some other boy"

You roll your eyes and sigh. However, you weren’t wrong about heeseung. He is a typical boy who plays with girls' feelings

But why doesn't it repulse you? You only have the impression that when you look at him he is getting more and more handsome by the second?

Heeseung moves toward you. You sit so close that your knees touch. You look at him as he lets the smoke out of his mouth, and damn when he is so close to you you are literally intoxicated by his presence.

„you want?"

Heeseung offers you his cigarette and normally you would refuse, but now you can't think rationally so you agree. You are lost in the way your faces are close and the way he looks at you

„open your mouth, baby," he says, and you follow his command. He takes a drag on his cigarette and then slowly lifts your chin . He brings his lips closer to yours so that they meet.

He slowly releases the smoke into your mouth. All the while you look intensely once at his mouth and once at his eyes. You let the smoke out of your mouth and cough. His smile is teasing and full of satisfaction.

Your heart beat fast. You feel the wetness in your panties. you didn't think you would like it so much.

"so pretty" he whispers as he gently touches your lips and looks at them carefully.

You know that what you did is so wrong and you don't know how you will look into your friend's eyes the next day. But why when heeseung is close to you you feel so good?

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・.

When you return to the university after the weekend, you didn't think it would be so difficult. After the whole situation with heeseung you feel like collapsing to the ground and not talking to Sora .

You know perfectly well that you did wrong, but as much as you want to, you can't forget about the heeseung.

Since that incident with the cigarette, you think about him all the time about his lips that gently brushed yours and the way he looked at you.

Your fantasies about him are expanding all the time. You know that avoiding him will be difficult.

But no matter how much you want him you won't do anything with him because you don't want to lose your friend.

You are awakened from your thoughts by your friend Suji. She says loudly waving her hand in front of your face ,,helloooo!!?? land to YN!!!"

You shake yourself off, straighten up in your seat and ask „What happened?"

„ just what's going on that you're so thoughtful today?," your friend asks as she jots down some notes on her laptop

You sigh and shrug your shoulders "I don't know, I didn't get enough sleep I guess"

You are in a lecture and you totally can't concentrate because your brain is filled with thoughts. Specifically, thoughts of heeseung.

„Are you sure? You look as if something is bothering you. You know you can always talk to me," she says with a pleasant smile and looks at you warmly.

You know that Suji is always for you when you need her and you can talk to her in any situation. But you don't think you're ready to talk about heeseung.

„I know Suji, but really everything is fine," you assure her and reciprocate the smile.

You have one last lecture left. You're left to attend it alone because Suji went home faster because she has some errands to run.

You're looking through your phone when suddenly you see a heeseung enter the room. Your heart beat faster. You didn't know he was coming to the sociology lectures. But then you saw that Sora is with him.

You pray that they don't notice you because you really don't know how you're going to handle it. But it's different your friend waves to you and walks towards you with Heeseung.

You smile at her as genuinely as you can. She sits down next to you, with a heeseung beside her. You catch eye contact with him, but quickly break it off.

All the while you are talking to Sora or listening to what the lecturer is saying. The fact that the heeseung doesn't pay attention to you or even look at you drives you crazy.

He keeps his hand on your friend's thigh and listens to a lecture or checks something on his phone.

You hate to admit it but you really thought the small talk and the situation at the party meant something.

On the other hand, maybe it's better that it doesn't mean anything and you let it go.

Fifteen minutes before the end of the lecture, Sora has to leave because she said she has a doctor and can't be late.

As the girl leaves the room you look at the heeseung. His gaze is directed toward the lecturer.

Since Sora left the room neither of you is paying attention to each other, but you can sense the tension between you. You are separated by one seat.

Something inside you tells you to talk to him but your mind tells you to do nothing and ignore him.

After the lecture is over, you pack your things in your bag. You want to leave as soon as possible to avoid having any conversation with Heeseung.

As you leave the lecture, you are stopped by Heeseung. He puts his hand on your wrist and asks calmly ,, Are you in a hurry?”

You look in his direction and he already has that silly grin on his face. You want to be independent of him and get away from him as soon as possible

„Apparently yes" you answer without feeling

,,why are you always so mean to me?" He raises and makes a feigned sad face

You sigh and cross your arms. You can't believe him. Just a moment ago he was avoiding you, and now suddenly he wants your attention.

"I'm not mean, I just don't have time" you reply. You walk down the hallway and he follows you

„oh come on darling. Can't you find time for me?" he replies while maintaining eye contact and the smile on his face widens

You have to admit that the way he calls you darling induces butterflies in your stomach. You stop and look straight into his eyes. it's really hard not to succumb to his charms

,,what do you want Heeseung?” you ask and raise an eyebrow

A teasing smile appeared on his lips and a hint of mischief in his eyes

,, I want you YN”

At his words, warmth spread through your body. they had a profound effect on you

You feel the heeseung take your hand and lead you to equipment room. You let go of his hand and see him turn on the light. You don’t understand what he wants to do.

,,heeseung, what ar-?”

You feel his lips on yours. His hands tighten on your waist and he draws you as close to him as possible.

You moan into his mouth and, pull away from each other. Heeseung puts his forehead against yours. When you are so close to each other you can't think of anything else but him.

But in the back of your mind you have your friend all the time. You know how much she cares about heeseung. When he notices that you are thoughtful he gently lifts your chin

„don't think too much doll, we both know how much we want it”

You look directly into his eyes. his words and eyes show pure sincerity. It's as if Heeseung is the devil and you can't resist his temptation to sin.

You think fuck it. you will worry about the consequences later. You attract him closer to you.

Your lips meet violently. Your hands travel to the nape of his neck, gently weaving into his hair. Your chests are as close together as possible.

The kiss becomes deep and full of hunger. It is as if you are relieving all the tension between you. You feel that heeseung explores your lips with his tongue and you moan.

Time between the two of you ceased to exist. Every touch of your lips becomes more and more intense and greedy.

You pull away from each other and catch your breath. You look up at him and your hand lands on his clothed growing dick.

You have to admit that even when he is wearing boxers and pants you can feel that he is massive.

„ do you want to suck my cock like a good whore?" Heeseung smiles teasingly and says in a deep voice

He doesn't have to ask you twice because you immediately fall to your knees in front of him. Your pussy becomes wet just at the thought of giving him head.

Slowly and teasingly you unbutton his pants. Then you take off his boxers. Heeseung is impatient.

,,don’t tease doll”

A massive and thick heeseung cock appears in front of you. He has veins on his shaft and his tip is already all in pre cum.

You stare at his length. honestly you don't know if he will fit all the way down your throat let alone into your pussy.

„Baby, don't you know what to do? Should I show you?" He says with a hint of meanness and filter.

Heeseung holds your hair in a makeshift ponytail and pulls your face to his cock. You start licking his tip. All the while you hold eye contact with him.

You take more and more of his length into your mouth. what you can't take in you massage with your hand.

Heeseung continues to hold your hair in a ponytail and leans his head against the wall behind him. his face contorts with pleasure.

He wants to close his eyes and enjoy the pleasure you give him, but he doesn't want to miss a single moment of you sucking his cock.

You lick and suck his length from top to bottom. And with your other hand you massage his balls. Heeseung breathes hard and moans

,, take all my cook, slut” Heeseung begins to push your head more and his cock touches your throat.

You practically choke on it, but you try to breathe through your nose. You should be embarrassed by all that he's doing, but it's makes your panties all wet

,, f-uck, baby so good”

Heeseung starts moaning louder and louder as he pushes his cock down your throat. You, at the same time, lick and suck his length. you keep your hands on his thighs.

He feels like he's in heaven. Your lips surround his cock so perfectly. he knows that he’s close.

Tears fly from your eyes and you choke on his length, but all you want is to be used by him as he is doing now.

„Mmm my pretty little slut. What would Sora say if she saw how eager you are for me?"

Heeseung pushes into your mouth the last few times. You chuckle more and more.

,,fuck, I-m cummingg!!!!” heeseung pours his cum down your throat and you feel the salty taste.

"Swallow it all," he commands you as you keep eye contact.

Heeseung has ever gotten a better head. His orgasm was so intense. You swallow all his semen and then show him your tongue.

,, good girl” he praises you when he catches his breath and helps you up.

He puts on his pants and boxers and draws you in for a kiss, but you pull away and say

,,I should go”

„can't I at least repay you?" Heeseung walks over to you, gently touches your shoulders and looks at you calmly

,,no, you don’t have to” you assure him as you pick up your bag from the floor and leave the equipment room without a word.

Heeseung stands in a stupor. He can't believe that you just left like that. He himself doesn't know if it's because you didn't want it or if it's because of remorse.

But on the other hand heeseung knows that he has rather changed your opinion of him and you can no longer say that he is not your type.

No matter how much you avoid him he knows that you won't be able to handle it and will quickly return to him.

Before he was even seeing Sora he noticed you at the university. At first sight, he thought you were a pretty girl and had something about you that the others didn't have. He knew he wanted to have you.

When he started his relationship with your friend all was well. but he was bored. It was too normal and he doesn't like permanent relationships.

But when he found out that sora was your friend? He knew he couldn't leave her because he wanted to reach you somehow.

Always if he wanted something, he must have it.

When at the party you said that he is not your type he went crazy. Since then he wants you even more. He just wants to prove you wrong.

Heeseung just isn't sure of one thing whether he just wants a relationship with benefits or something more. But is it possible for him to change for you?

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・.

Since the last incident with Heeseung, you have been avoiding him like a fire. You have a big guilty conscience about betraying your friend. But you also regret that you left heeseung so abruptly in equipment room without a word.

Every day more and more you can't talk to sora normally because all you have in front of your eyes is heeseung and what you did with him.

You know that your feelings for him are only growing and you hate it. Even if you want to forget him it's impossible because Sora keeps talking about him and now heeseung is in the same group of friends as you.

And besides, he doesn't let you forget about him. Practically every day before you come to the lecture hall someone ( or more precisely you are convinced that it is heeseung) puts a coffee on your table and to it a leaf with some kind words or once anonymously someone sent you flowers to your dormitory.

These little gestures are very kind, and you wonder if he does it just for you or for every girl he wants to have.

But even if you want to find out you'd rather not keep in touch with Heeseung because it's better for everyone.

You sit in your typical cafeteria seat and wait for your friends. Sora approaches the table and you smile slightly at her.

She has bags under her eyes, looks sleep-deprived and sad. She smiles weakly at you

,,Hi YN”

She sits down next to you and looks like a human wreck. You become concerned and ask calmly

,,What happened Sora? You look tired and sad ”

She sighs,looks ahead and puts her hands on the table

,,Heeseung told me that our relationship is pointless and he doesn't want to get involved in it” she speaks weakly and you can see the pain on her face .

You almost choke on your coffee when you hear what says. You bite your lip slightly. Honestly expected that this is how this relationship could come out

,,I’m so sorry Sora” You respond by looking at her. you can see how broken she is.

,,You were right he is a typical fuck boy who will never find a girlfriend”

You listen to her and nod. You feel so stupid that you are sitting next to her and she knows nothing about your feelings for him. However, you prefer not to take any chances and say nothing about it.

,,Don't break down like that. you are amazing and pretty and I’m sure you will find a boyfriend a thousand times better than heeseung ” you smile and draw her into a hug

,, thanks YN, for always being for me when I need you” Sora smiles faintly and mumbles as you hug each other

,, always” you answer and feel guilty, but at least now you know that there is nothing between her and heeseung anymore.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・.

You are at the birthday party of one of your friends Sunghoon. You have known each other since high school and then by some chance you ended up at the same university.

You are alone at the party without your friends. They couldn't come because they have work or study. You have to rely on yourself tonight.

You walk into the kitchen to pour yourself a drink of some sort and see Jake. Your heart beat faster because probably heeseung is also here.

„hey YN! I didn't know you'd be here" when he notices you, he smiles.

,,I didn’t expect to see you here either” you reciprocate his smile and softly hug each other in greeting.

You talk with him for a while. Jake is a really fun guy. He's very easy to like and talk to. You are not surprised that he is one of the close friends of Heeseung.

Without being noticed by you Heeseung enters the kitchen. A shadow of frustration flashes in his eyes but he tries to control himself when he saw you with Jake.

Jake notices how Heeseung stares at you with hard and burning eyes.

,,I guess someone is jealous of you” Jake whispers in your ear and a little at first you don’t understand what he means.

You turn around and see Heeseung who is already looking at you intensely. You feel your heart beating harder. And damn you like how his attention is devoted only to you.

A wave of heat spreads through your body. you feel like making him even more jealous.

You stand closer to Jake as you listen to him say something. You don't notice but some girl walks up to Heeseung.

However, he doesn’t care at all about what the girl next to him is talking to him. His gaze is completely focused on you.

He feels a tightening in his stomach. He's frustrated with how close you stand to Jake and the fact that you're taking time for him.

He doesn't want anyone else to have you but him.

The girl who talks to him walks away from him when she sees that he is not interested in her. He takes a quick step toward you

„YN can we talk?" he says as calmly as he can although irritation and jealousy were visible in his eyes.

You nod. you feel that Heeseung grips your wrist tightly and pulls you outside .

„Heeseung, what the fuck are you doing?" You ask in frustration

You are facing each other. You see his eyes darken.

,, you even ask!? You’ve been avoiding me for a week and now you’re fucking my best with your eyes!” he replies with sarcasm and shakes his head in disbelief.

You cross your arms and can't believe that he is still going to tell you what to do and what not to do.

‚’Heeseung! Pull yourself together! you were the one who hit on my best friend and probably every girl in this university and now all of a sudden you care about me!” you raise your voice and look at him coldly

He laughs dryly and sarcastically. He is so annoyed but at the same time he wants you so much.

,,YN, the only person who should pull is you! Will you ever fucking understand that the only one I want is you!?” your faces are close together. When he said he only wants you, you breathe hard and look straight into his eyes.

’’no heeseung, I won’t, you probab-’’

He interrupts you in mid-sentence and pulls your body to the wall.

He closes the gap between you and starts kissing your lips. He puts his hands on your waist. You deepen the kiss by putting your hands behind his neck.

There is not an inch of space between you. You feel the heat beating from his body. From second to second the kiss is more and more passionate and impatient.

You couldn't satiate each other. You moan when you feel his lips that explore your lips.

You pull away slightly from each other and catch eye contact

„Should I prove to you even more that you are the only one I want?" He says in a deep sincere voice and raises an eyebrow

You turn your head and look at him with dark eyes. You already miss his touch.

When you enter heeseung's dormitory you lips immediately connect again. His hands are on you. He slid down to your neck. He stars sucking and licking your collarbone as he pulls you towards the door.

„mmm heeseung" you moan in pleasure as you close your eyes. You keep your hands in his hair.

While kissing, Heeseung leads you to his bedroom. He closes the door behind him. you lie down on the bed and he is over you.

You didn't look too closely at the surroundings, but his room is normal has desk, bed and closet. There's not even a mess here

You put your hands on his shoulders and look at him. He looks so hot. His hair is disheveled, his lips reddened and swollen from your earlier kiss

Heeseung smiles teasingly when he sees you looking at him.

”Hmm, didn’t you say something like I’m not your type?”

Heeseung slowly pulls down your dress. You mutter quietly. He sees that you are not wearing a bra. He curses

”fuck, look what a desperate slut you are”

You gasp and squirm under him as he purposely slowly removes your dress.

,,Hee pleas- don’t tease” you beg him when you keep your hands on his shoulders.

His smile widens. he looks at your body as if it were gold although to him it is just that. He touches your hips sensually and pulls your dress all the way down.

You are left in just skimpy panties. At the very sight of you heeseung gets hard. He has only the thought in his head to fuck you.

He removes your panties and lays down between your thighs. Your pussy is already wet and eager for him

,,such a pretty pussy. I’m sure it will taste so sweet” He starts drawing circles on your clit with two fingers. You squirm under him and want more

”pleaseee… I want more-ee”

Heeseung at your plea puts his lips to your pussy and licks your juices. You moan for him so pathetically. You are convinced that you won't last long when he eats you so well

He inserts two fingers into your pussy and his bluntness immediately increases. He hits every spots perfectly with his long fingers.

Heeseung speeds up licking your folds and you start riding his lips.

,,my goddd, heeseung it’s sooo goo-d” you mutter loudly. Your nails dug into his shoulders leaving marks.

Your eyes twisting backwards with delight. Heeseung has his eyes closed. He is focused on your lovely moans and on your pussy. He wants to bring you to the best orgasm you've ever had.

,, godd- I’m cummingg!!!” you scream with pleasure

Heeseung when he hears your moans speeds up sucking and kissing your clit. He adds a third finger to your pussy and quickly fingers you while hitting every perfect spot. You feel so full.

,,cum on my face baby, show me how good whore you are for me” he purrs. He doesn't stop abusing your pussy with his fingers and mouth

You cum on his fingers and lips while moaning his name loudly. You are dizzy from how intensely you have come.

You catch your breath and look at Heeseung. His mouth is all in your juices. He licks his fingers which are all in your semen.

It is such a hot sight and you are horny again. Heeseung puts his fingers to your lips and he says

”open your mouth”

At his request you open your mouth. You suck and taste yourself on his fingers.

”good girl”

Heeseung looks at you and thinks he's about to go crazy. You're so beautiful when you're lying underneath him and completely submitting to him.

„please heeseung, I want more” you beg as you draw him into a kiss. The kiss is passionate and you taste yourself on his tongue

Heeseung's cock is already so hard. You help him pull off his shirt and then he pulls down his pants and boxers. You look at his body.

When he notices this he smirks, raises an eyebrow and teases, "You like the view, don’t you?

You nod and run your hand over his muscular chest . By your touch he is even harder if possible.

”You are so impatient" he smiles as he touches your cheek and looks at your eyes. Something about this moment is intimate and real. Your hearts beat hard as you are warmed by each other's touch.

”Lie down on your stomach baby," he practically gives you an order. You lie down. You are already excited about what is to come.

Heeseung crouches behind you. He spanks your ass and you moan. You are already so horny. Heeseung runs his finger over your slit and mocks you

„you are so wet again and I haven’t done anything yet”

Heeseung thrusts into your pussy slowly. You feel your walls clench his cock perfectly. When he's buried all the way inside you. you moan and feel so full. You know you won't last long

„Your pussy receives me so good," he praises you as he begins to move inside you.

He holds your hair with one hand and the other on your neck. He begins to choke you. This is a new experience for you, but you enjoy it and moan even more.

„you like how I choke you, huh?" Heeseung asks as he pushes into you hard. All you can hear in the room are the lewd and pornographic sounds of him pounding into your pussy and your moans.

,,you are such a dirty girl for me"

Heeseung doesn't stop fucking you. You have the feeling that with each passing moment his cock is hitting deeper and deeper into your cervix.

,, heeseung!!! myyy go-ddd” You scream in pleasure. your mouth twists out of pleasure into an ,,o" shape. You feel that you are close.

„Will you cum on my cock slut?" he asks as he pulls you close tugging at your hair. You like it so much when he treats you so roughly

Your eyes twist and a wave of pleasure sweeps over your body. Your legs shake as you squirt on his cock. He thrusts into you hard one last time and paints your walls white.

You catch your breath as heeseung slowly removes his cock from your pussy. You have a mess between your legs from your sperm.

You feel sore. You know that you won't be able to walk the next day.

You lie down on his bed. Heeseung goes out to the bathroom to fetch a towel. You wonder what will happen next if what you did was a one-time thing or if it will happen again.

Somewhere inside you there are further fears and you feel as if you are betraying your friend. You know how she would hate you if she found out what you did with him. But on the other hand when you are with him you feel like the whole world doesn't exist.

You are awakened from your thoughts by a heeseung that begins to cleanse you. He asks calmly "What are you thinking about so much?"

You look at him and sigh , "probably about our relationship".

He nods and sets the towel down on the table. He draws you close and you lie in each other's arms.

„How do you want it to look now?" Heeseung asks as he gently combed through your hair.

You're not sure if Heeseung wants to involve you in your relationship and even if it does you're worried about your friendship with Sora

„I don't know Heeseung, but I know there is something between us and I don't want it to end," you answer and surprise yourself that you dared to say it. You think maybe it's time to be honest and put yourself and your needs first

Heeseung nods and a smile appears on his ,, so am I your type after all?” He teases

„shut up" you giggle and say jokingly

The future between you is uncertain because you both don't quite know what you want in your compiled relationship. But so far you are happy to have each other to some extent.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・.

Thank you for reading!

author note: sooo this is my third fanfic!!! I hope you like it! ❤︎ I wanted to give up several times while writing it lmaooo it was so exhausting hehe. Let me know in comments what you think about it ^^ <33

[getaapologist]

The Tension and the Terror............Part XV

Pairing: Emperor Geta x OFC (extremely loosely, character is named but otherwise not described besides hair length)

Summary: The chaos surrounding the death of Macrinus keeps Letha and Geta apart much longer than either of them expected. Geta has an urgent question for Letha.

Warnings: make-up sex, and a shitty understanding of ancient Roman procedures around rule, 18+ only.

Word Count: 3.6k

Part 15 of 15!

[ Part XIV ]

Series Masterlist

A/N: I would like to preface this by saying thank you for reading this self-indulgent slop. I hope you got some small amount of enjoyment out of it. Your comments along the way kept me engaged enough to actually finish this. It's the first thing I've ever started writing that I actually feel like I finished. There's so much I could've added to this post-reunion that this would've never been done. I could always embellish at a later date if anyone wanted it. I'm also a bit sad to finish this because I don't have anything to look forward to now. Thank you for your time and attention. It means a lot.

Also, mea lux is 'my light' I believe.

Almost two weeks passed before Letha laid eyes on Geta again.

It was prevented by a combination of things. There had been so much to deal with after the incident in the gardens. Geta had been embroiled in meetings, debating things Letha wasn’t privy to. There was a ceremony for Ancus, to honor him for his efforts to protect his Emperors. And at every party, everyone was so desperate to show face to their Emperors, to remind them of their loyalty in wake of the exposure of Macrinus’s plot. 

Though she wasn’t invited to any official meetings or ceremonies, there were situations where she could’ve sought Geta out at these fetes and events. But she didn’t. She was scared to have that conversation that needed to happen. 

She knew she was still treated as a guest in the palace. More like a fixture, really, available to distract Caracalla whenever the burden of rule grew too tiresome with more poetry, read under the shade of a tree in the gardens, Ancus always nearby. But aside from that, she felt quite restless. 

It’s not as if she expected things to go back to how they were, but she didn’t think it would be this hard to put her thoughts together. Leaving the gardens that evening, neck still sore, she was imagining how she’d look over at Geta the next morning and fervently apologize, for all of it. She’d tell him she would understand if he sent her away, and he would assure her that he wouldn’t dream of it.

But the next morning she couldn’t leave her bed, paralyzed by this new fear. She’d gotten a chance to see what her relationship with Geta could be, she didn’t know what she would do if it was not that. And the possibilities he’d promised her most certainly couldn’t and wouldn’t happen anymore. She stewed in the hesitance, the uncertainty, until she became convinced that it absolutely would be different. No matter what different meant, she was sure it wouldn’t be good.

And so it continued, Letha skipping mealtimes that used to be routine, bumping into servants gossiping on her way into the kitchens to eat. Occasionally she heard her name on their tongues, her appearance causing them to freeze as if Letha were Medusa herself. Not wanting to make a scene, she’d just duck right back out, resolving to return later.

Caracalla assured her his brother was just being kept very, very busy in the wake of the subterfuge and death of Macrinus, but she couldn’t help but feel like it was a little intentional. 

What did you expect, honestly?

She didn’t know why she was still allowed to wander the palace, as if she were back to being a guest. There were no guards posted outside her room, and for the last week she spent her evenings in the gardens, observing the moon, asking no one in particular what happens next.

She wasn’t naive, she knew Tegula didn’t trust her. And nothing spread faster than a salacious rumor. They weren’t so foolish as to speak poorly of their Emperor, so they resorted to tarnishing her reputation instead. She was a witch, had steered Macrinus to his end, was desperate to attach herself to the divinity the Emperors were entitled to.

It was ridiculous. If she had such powers, she sure wouldn’t have suffered all this. 

It was all just more fuel for her suppositions, perpetuating her unhappy cycle until she felt like it would be better if she just snuck out one night. She could become a ghost story. But against all odds, she still carried hope that the next day would be different. 

As for Geta, well, Geta was trying to prevent an economic collapse. Some part of him thought Letha might think poorly of him if he let the empire fall around them because he would rather be locked up in his rooms, curled up in her. Because that was what he wanted. But he had a duty, a responsibility to steer this monstrous empire in a direction he could have heirs in. Perhaps the danger had put things into perspective.

Listening to the senators describe just how involved Macrinus had been in arming their voracious armies became more and more painful as they dove into the minutiae of complex accounts and processes he never bothered to pay attention to before. It was overwhelming. But he knew their efforts were working. Still, there were moments where he’d trade it all for those eyes on him again. 

What little free time he had was spent trying to avoid Letha, because he needed hours, days, uninterrupted, for him to spill his heart to her. A few minutes here and there wouldn’t be enough to relay any of the complex emotions he felt. He couldn’t avoid her forever, though, because there was a certain conversation that had to happen. He needed to know where he stood with her before he picked a particular path to tread down.

So that was why he stalked the gardens that evening, waiting for her to appear for her nightly stargazing. And as he watched her spread out the emerald-dyed linen on the grass, he felt calm. Almost peaceful. He let himself forget the weight of all that had happened, the guilt, too. Everything they’d all been through. 

Well, not everything.

“You should have run far away from here,” Geta spoke, disturbing her peace. 

Letha looked over her shoulder, her breath held in her lungs as she appraised him. It almost felt like the first time. The first time she saw him and admitted against her better judgment that he was beautiful.

The moonlight glinted off the laurels and the golden chestplate he still wore, though the ceremony had long been over. His hair was shiny, neat, framing his fair face. His deep, dark eyes, still lined in crimson, were locked on her.

He looked close to divine standing there in the golden armor, easily one of the most opulent things she’d ever seen. He somehow looked taller, broader, in the armor. Untouchable, too. 

It was so late in the evening, he should’ve changed. He should be in bed. Anywhere but here.

No more hiding. 

“I was locked in a cell, I wasn’t running anywhere.”

He surprised her by sitting beside her on the blanket, the ceremonial armor quite uncomfortable to lay down in. He kept his arms slung around his knees, the bindings of the tall sandals flexing over his shins as he joined her in staring up at the large moon.

“What about after?” After Macrinus. “You’ve had no chaperone for well over a week now.”

Letha felt her stomach twist. “I’ve thought about it.”

“But?” Geta supplied, turning his head away from the splendor of the night sky to peer down at her where she laid out beside him. A challenger to the celestial might hanging above.

“You know there would be no point.”

He raised an eyebrow. “I do?”

She rolled her eyes, a treasonous activity if done by any other, but it filled Geta with warmth, bringing the beginnings of a smile to his lips. It all felt so familiar.

“There’s something that is keeping me here. Besides the fact I wouldn’t last a day out there with nowhere to go.”

“I dared to hope,” he admitted, taking her own admission and shoving it into the cracks that were slowly mending, a makeshift mortar.

She looked over at him, a line forming between her brows as she studied him, thinking very hard about what to say next. He reached down with a finger, gently pressing at the center of her brows, pushing away the line.

“I’m sorry,” she blurted out, the pressure of his closeness becoming overwhelming. 

“No,” he shook his head, moving his finger lower to press to her lips, silencing any further unnecessary apologies. “It is forgiven.”

Letha felt relief, could feel a tear forming at the corner of her eye. But she didn’t want to cry, not now. She recalled her apology muttered into his hair that day. He’d told her ‘no’ then too. 

“Do you still care for me?” he asked, his voice low.

“Of course I do,” she whispered, feeling the tear slide down the side of her face. 

He noticed it, moving his fingertip to wipe away the trail before resting his hand on the ground beside her head. He licked his lips, staring at her, all his weight bearing down, as if daring himself to collapse onto her. 

As much as he might have enjoyed frolicking beneath the stars, removing this armor was not a graceful job, even for two. 

“I want to show you something.” He pushed off the ground and sat up, the haze of him dispersed. She made herself sit up, kept her eyes on him as he stood up. He could feel a swarm of bees in his stomach moving angrily as he held a hand out for her to help her to her feet.

There was a split second of indecision and he nearly faltered, but her tight grip on his hand was a balm, immediately settling his nerves. As she leaned down to gather up the blanket, he tugged her hand, urging her to leave it. 

Geta  lifted the small chest off his desk and carried it over to where Letha sat on the side of the chaise in his room. It sank into the plush seat and she looked up at him, surprised. 

“It’s quite heavy.”

“I can manage just fine,” he smiled, his teasing tone returning.

It was so easy to get caught up in his magnetism. She wondered if he knew he possessed such a thing.

“Go on,” he urged. “Open it.”

She obeyed, pushing up the lid, exposing a rich ruby interior, the box created to house this one ornate bauble. Laurels, golden and sparkling. There were small, dazzling red gems hidden among the leaves here and there.

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered, reaching in to run a finger along one of the gilded leaves. “Seems a bit small for you,” she admitted.

“It is,” he confirmed. 

“Well I think Caracalla will love it,” she smiled, lowering the lid. “It’s a thoughtful gift.”

Geta reached down, pulling it back open. There was a look in her eyes that gave him pause, all the smiles and teasing forgotten. As if she knew already what he was about to say. To ask.

“It’s not for my brother.”

His words sent an icy chill down the center of her back, forcing her to sit up a bit straighter. He was already moving away, pacing.

“I have been busy, Letha,” he admitted. “I’ve spent more time with the senators than I can possibly stand. And in exchange for those long hours, I got this.”

“Geta, I—”

“Don’t feel like you need to say yes right now. Just promise me you will think on it. I know these last couple of weeks have been difficult, we’ve had a hell of a time trying to navigate—”

Letha stood and walked over to him as he rambled. She reached up and curled her fingers around the collar of the chestplate, pulling him down by it, pressing her lips to his. 

Geta recognized the action immediately, bringing one of his hands up to cover hers where she held the armor, moaning against her lips. He pulled her in by the small of her back with his free hand. Her necklace clattered against the metal plate until it was muffled by the press of her against him. 

He could not get near enough air into his lungs. He felt dizzy, incoherent, his blood at once diluted but also thickened, leaving his limbs feeling heavy with a honeyed sludge passing through his veins. The pressure of her hauling him down to her eager mouth by the bronze plate persisted in his brain, in his gut, and he suspected he would relive it for the rest of time. 

“Letha,” he breathed, his palm pressing to her heated cheek. “You can take time,” he offered, though he would be lying if he said he was satisfied with this and nothing more.

“I’ve taken it,” she replied quickly, releasing the armor. 

Before the dissatisfaction crept in, he felt her fingers at his side, brushing the underside of his arm that he immediately lifted. She worked at the buckle, pulling the leather free before moving down to the woven golden string keeping both halves together. 

Once his brain caught up to hers, he pulled at the cords holding the pauldrons over his shoulders, the both of them picking up speed as an unspoken sense of urgency grew in the silence. It all hit the floor with a loud clattering, the pteruges joining it not long after. 

Free from the weight of the heavy armor, Geta reached for Letha’s neck, pulling her into him, groaning against her lips as he attempted to make up for lost time.

As he held her, he realized she was working herself out of her dress. It was bunched up on her shoulders by the time he looked down. The next chance she got, the two of them needing air, she threw it off over her head. 

“I would have gotten to that,” he breathed, allowing himself to look her over. 

“Like I said, I’ve taken it.” she spoke with intention. He felt it low in his belly.

She got to spend only a moment more on her feet before he collected her in his arms and carried her to the bed. She let out a laugh as she sank into the plush arrangement of silks and pillows. He stared down at her, feeling that blooming of warmth in his chest that only she gave him.

 “What are you waiting for?”

As the words left her lips, Geta threw off the white tunic and joined her, crawling up her body to seal his lips to hers, finally allowing the weight of him to press her down into the bed. He had missed this. Her skin, already hot beneath his hands, her movements only drawing him in further, seeking his touch, his lips.

It had been a long couple of weeks.

He felt her bring a leg up around his hip and he reached for it, fingers digging into her thigh as he rutted against her. The ragged moan that left his throat said more about his desperation than anything else.

The tension in his arm trying to hold him up off of her was too much to ignore. He turned onto his side, clinging to her thigh, slowly bringing her with him until he was on his back. As she settled in this new position, she looked down where they met, a bashful smile on her face.

He couldn’t deny the wonder that overtook him at the sight of her above him, the way her mussed hair hung around her face, a few strands now loose. She was radiant, even in the night. Her nervous smile took hold in his chest, and he knew then that he would make it his goal to continue to find ways to draw that same smile from her. 

“I missed you,” she admitted, eyes cast down to the expanse of his torso beneath her hands. “I thought we might never…”

“Letha, you possess me.” Her eyes widened, her body frozen in his hands. “I think that was why it hurt so much to be separated from you.” He shifted his hips, forcing heat into her cheeks. “And I owe you an apology.”

“It is forgiven,” she insisted.

He shot her a look. “I could have lost you. It was cruel and impulsive.”

“We are fortunate your brother had the good sense to intervene, then.”

“Please, do not speak of my brother right now,” he pleaded, squeezing her thighs. 

She laughed at him, covering his hands with hers. “Let me distract you,” she offered, bringing his hands up higher, his fingers skimming her belly before she pressed his palms into her breasts.

“So beautiful,” he whispered, his hands squeezing her soft skin. 

She ground herself down on him, using him, the sight filling him with desire for her. How he ever got pleasure from anyone else, he could never know. This was all he ever needed. He could only thank the gods, the fates, whoever brought her to him. 

She surprised him as she swung her leg over him, leaving him there in the bed, a pathetic whine leaving his throat as the air hit his slick-wet cock.

Letha felt a bit unsteady on her feet as she walked through his room. She was ready to show him that she would take on the mantle, the responsibility of keeping him sated and happy. 

Possessed him? She would never get over it. 

She found the chest and lifted the lid, reaching down for the delicate crown. Even in the dim light it sparkled. Her prize in hand, she set it on her head and nearly sprinted back to Geta.

He still laid in the middle of his bed, a vision of long limbs and pale flesh. At the sound of her feet padding on the floor he craned his neck, his large brown eyes passing over her, lingering on her head, where the crown sat precariously.

His full lips parted in a grin. “Eager to fulfill your duty, Empress?” he questioned, his voice low with desire. He held his hands out for her, helping her return to her place astride his hips. 

“Do you like it?” she asked a bit bashfully, her hands leaving his to steady the crown in her hair.

He let out a deep breath. “Mea lux,” he smiled, reaching up to pull her down to his chest, “you spoil me.” He stole a kiss from her lips before he reached up to adjust the crown so it would sit more securely on her head. She leaned into every touch, relishing the sensation of his large hands on her skin, skimming, gripping, squeezing.

She was so overwhelmed by him that she didn’t notice him preparing to shove into her, her only warning a quick swipe of him through her slick. They let out matching sighs as he filled her, like this was all they needed. Letha sat up, a hand pressed against his abdomen for support as she reacclimated to him. 

“W-What exactly are the duties of an Empress, Geta?” she asked. His hips snapping up forcing a wanton moan to leave her lips. 

His flush extended from his face and ears down to his chest. “Besides the obvious?”

She nodded, shifting her hips, moving on instinct, eager for relief. 

He grunted, letting his head fall back. “Well,” he began, bucking his own hips up slightly to reward her. “You will sit with me in all the boring meetings. We will suffer together.” 

“Mhmm,” she moaned, nodding. “I can do that.”

“You will advise me, keep me in line,” he grunted. “Tell me when I’m being a fool.”

“I will relish every chance I get,” she grinned, chasing her pleasure.

“Don’t look so excited,” he chuckled, biting his lip. 

She felt her thighs burning, but she didn’t dare stop, the coil pulling ever tighter. “What else?”

“You will guard my heart, Letha,” he breathed, his eyes meeting hers.

Her hips stilled. 

Geta flipped them, bringing his face down to hers. She ran her hands up his sides, over his shoulders, tangling in his hair as he kissed her. She relaxed beneath him, her legs wrapping around his hips as he drove into her at a steady pace. 

“Can you do that?” he asked, meeting her eyes. 

“Haven’t I been already?” 

He blinked down at her, absorbing her words. “I love you.”

“I love you,” she echoed, pulling his face down to hers.

In the kiss, he quickened his pace. She felt like she was falling apart in his hands, unable to form more words. He reached down between them, his fingers finding home in the apex of her thighs, his nose brushing against hers as he urged her to her release.

She clung to him desperately, choked gasps leaving her throat as he pressed his lips against it. She clenched around him, the coil finally snapping and giving way for her hard-earned release. He pushed her through it, her hands squeezing his hips in an effort to slow him down, too sensitive. 

He sat up, pulling her to him by her hips, grunting as he pounded into her.

“Is giving you an heir part of my duties as well?”

He laughed. “Not a requirement, but–” He cut himself off, burying himself in her as he fell on top of her, pulsing into her. “–a perk.”

He settled on top of her, his lips pressing to hers before he buried his face in the side of her neck. She held him close, running fingers up and down his back, enjoying the warmth of him despite all the sweat. 

“I would stay like this forever,” she sighed, trying to fight off the exhaustion she felt. The last thing she wanted to do was sleep now that she had him back.

“I have no pressing business for two days, mea lux. You’re not leaving this room,” he spoke into her skin. “And when we do, we will be wed.”

She felt nervous, but optimistic. “Should we not have waited until after for this then?”

He lifted his head, his warm eyes settling on hers. Full of love and mirth. “Oh, no, dear Letha. I believe you said you have already taken your time to think,” he winked, “and I would not deprive my Empress of anything.”

[ fin ]

Thank you for reading!

[pushspacetocontinue]

"Heh, I, I mean, I, I got a stutter and, and I wouldn't wanna, wanna be, be even more annoying than, than these, these two," Russell managed to joke.

"Oooh, actually got a bit of sass from you," Travis said, grinning, "Nice one, Custard."

"Heh, clearly learning from the best," Simon joked.

Leofric gently raised a hand so he could pet between Smokey's ears with one of his fingers as he looked over the ingredients and the method of creating it. It was mostly designed for pouring or dabbing onto a wound, but with some careful adjustments to the formula...

"I think this could be it," Leofric said, as he tapped his finger on the corner of the page, leaving a pink glowing pink, "Brilliant. Good call, Erica."

"Well, I, I hope you, you learned your, your lesson,"

"You could have let him die first and then cleaned up the seats," Bill said, with a shrug, "It would have saved us a hell of a lot of trouble in the longer run."

Russell had the brief thought that if he had just kept beating Five to a pulp when he had him down, then maybe even more trouble would have been saved, but he forced that thought back again.

"Well, that's not going to happen, especially not with the way he's going about it," Travis said, "I just feel bad for you, that you can't be surprised."

Bill grinned at that.

"I like the way you think," Bill then said, "It would certainly save me having to keep an eye on him when the rest of you are away."

"I think that would be handy," Travis added, "He tries to use one and he wraps himself up like some kind of holiday turkey."

"It makes sense," Simon said, "It's harder to do research on people who hide their names. But he clearly didn't think of the fact that there are many other ways to dig up dirt on your enemies. But right now, we can accept calling you Timmy and Tommy."

"Eh, leave some space for Russell if he wants to join."

At least it didn’t look like the conversation was interfering with what Rook was doing. She was still setting things aside as they were pointed out to her, though Erica was being faster even with the help of a shaky shadow tentacle.

Smokey tilted his head when Leofric skipped a few pages. He didn't know what that meant, but he still let out a tiny mew of encouragement.

Whatever helped his friends was a good thing.

"We had to. He was bleeding all over the seats."

"Cleaning up toxic blood isn't fun, you know."

Perhaps they'd use that as an excuse with Five, if he ever had the chance to ask them how they could bail so quickly on him. He was simply difficult to be around.

"We figured you liked playing dirty-"

"-Not that you have the scariest motherfuckers working for you."

"You guys sure have a way with words." Rook said, watching Erica at work. It looked like the elf had found a better method than lightly shaking the gadgets until something happened.

"Yes, Five wants her spot."

"-her spot."

Both pointed at Rook.

"He acts like he's doing holy work-"

"-but he just wants to be the most important hunter in the area— How are you doing that?"

"These smell weird." Erica replied, pointing. The brothers had no idea what she was talking about, but she didn't care.

"Oh, look, another guy who has it with me for no reason." The next gadget, another disguised blade, was bent at a perfect angle before it was dropped back into the pile, "Why am I not surprised?"

The Twins didn't answer. Something about watching Rook bending steel with her mind had left them at a loss of snarky comments.

"Maybe if he can figure out how to make them work, we can also turn them against Ratchet." Erica told Travis, "Maybe leave a trap behind in case he tries anything."

"Or maybe it's because it's a dumb name."

"First time we hear it, though. Five insisted we didn't use our names."

[stanliestduo]

I saw that ask you got and i just wanted to say that it's so funny to me when people are like "why would you ship stancest ew" acting like they didn't sail off into the sunset together after DECADES of Stan openly pining for Ford. If they weren't written as siblings they would hands down be the most popular ship of the show

There's a long answer, and then there's the tldr at the bottom marked in red text. Long answer: If they weren't siblings, you literally wouldn't be able to escape this ship. It would have been THE ship of tumblr after the finale had aired, considered the "healthy" ship and the good ending, would be considered canon even if they didn't kiss, and it would be the standard by which all the other ships are judged. You would have people writing essays about how they literally took off on a ship, guys! It's so obvious and a metaphor for marriage and and- But here's where I can extend a bit of empathy that perhaps they wouldn't give me, as well as look at things from the perspective as someone who has seen shipping culture their entire lives. First off- most people don't want to fuck their siblings. I know, shocker. Most people who ship Stancest probably do not want to fuck their siblings, but people who don't CERTAINLY do not want to. It's the most repulsive thought in the world to them. There is such thing as being in such a close platonic relationship that it's an impossible thought. I think a lot of people who want Stancest shippers to die or whatever find that kind of desire utterly repulsive, that and let's be real, 1nc3st in real life is rife with abuse. It isn't a healthy thought to get those wires crossed. People who do not like this ship are empathizing with either of the brothers and projecting their own repulsion onto them. But here's the other bit. I'm not shipping Stan and Ford because they're siblings. Most of my ships are not 1nc3stuous. I don't find that element hot or cute, and while I'm not here to harsh anyone's vibe, if that's the only reason you ship Stancest I really don't want to talk with you about these characters. People see ships as inherently sexual, as inherently sexualizing, as "you must only ship this because you want to see the characters fuck". And mind you, with Stancest I don't see it as a bad thing at all to draw them doing things or being attractive together, etc etc. Not at all, and I'd be a hypocrite for saying otherwise. My point is, that's where people's minds go, that's the assumption that they make. They find 1nc3st repulsive, and clearly the ONLY reason I would ship it is because I like sexualizing that and only that aspect about it. Basically, they assume I must LOVE 1nc3st in and of itself, because otherwise why would I ship brothers? Now here's where I go back to the first statement, because most people I've seen don't just ship them for that reason.

You ever seen that meme about "if they have chemistry, I can't make them NOT have chemistry"? That's why I'm here. EVERYTHING about how Stan and Ford are written is tailor made to be SHIPPED. Aside from literally bounding away on a ship, they have a closeness and codependency that most brothers in fiction do not. Alex himself has said they need each other, Ford in the third journal said he was going to spend the rest of his days making up to Stanley. Stanley has spent his entire life wanting NOTHING but his family, his brother by his side. He seems more bonded to his brother than to any one he's ever tried to date, and Ford likewise. I'm sorry, but these two are not getting a "healthy" ending. They aren't going to be with anyone else. There's no version of them in which they find separate partners after having a little adventure around the world for a year or two then just go off in separate ways. This is the most "childhood friends to lovers" story I've ever seen. These two are NOT healthy to begin with, why would anyone expect them to start when they're that old and that hurt by everything in their pasts? I don't believe it inherently has to be sexually 1nc3stuous, but it could be. Wires are already being crossed. It's rare for anyone to be loyal for 30 years to one person when they aren't in love, and Stan wanted to get his brother back so badly that he forgot his own goals and even threw away his own identity to get him back. His entire life was for Ford, and after Journal 3, it should be obvious that Ford's entire life is for Stan now, too. What I'm trying to say is, while this ship isn't the healthy ending, it is the BEST ending for either of them. I think people who wanted Stan to be able to deny going with Ford don't understand him or his character, or what his character NEEDS, same as Ford. And I think people who try to separate the bros for shipping purposes or who don't want to do 1nc3st or accidental emotional 1nc3st are not fully reading the same things, watching the same things that we are. If they weren't brothers, everyone else would see exactly what we're seeing. They would see this as the love story it is. TLDR: I understand why people won't ship this ship, and I try to be empathetic, but these two have been given the kind of story that would ping the lovers radar to anyone if they weren't brothers and I'm not going to ignore that just because they are.

[omaano]

SW Hades AU January Update

Woohoo, look at that we have a header for the monthly updates now!

Some links and previous updates: May - June - July - August - September - October/November - December - everything else in this AU

I finally got around to not only finish Quinlan's character illustration, but also add a background, glow effect and text box to him.

I've got to say, I am very very proud and more than a little surprised at how well he turned out! Green is my nemesis of a color (that's partly why I decided to tackle Quinlan and Kit in one go - bite the bullet in one go and all that) but funnily enough all his greens are rather desaturated dark yellows (including his skin tone). Gosh, initially I'd picked those colours off of Ares, and up until I added the warmer red to the edges of the shadows on his skin I was very very terrified that I'd made a huge mistake here. (It's part of my art process, spending a significant amount of it being terrified that I messed up my colours beyond saving TT^TT) But he turned out amazing and super shiny!

Adding those snakebite piercings was also such a big brained idea (can you tell that I'm really really happy with him? XD) and this illustration is defnitely up there among my top faves with Shaak Ti.

Kit in comparison was a lot more straightforward (hah).

The foreshortening and positioning of his arms was... well. Not Fun, let's just stick with that, but I'm very good at dying on very small hills, and I'd got it in my head that I'm gonna push this pose A Bit. In the end it wasn't as much as I'd hoped for, but I did try for some exaggeration in the posing and anatomy as well. (Have you seen Ares's hands and forearms and Dionysos's thighs??)

Further SHOUTOUT and a million thanks to @hastalavistabyebye for their enthusiastic tags under all my Hades posts, and for being the genius mind behind these additional trinkets for this AU:

Fizzroot Shake for Nectar (we gotta be safe with teenagers around), and Tiingilar for Ambrosia ❤️❤️

Additional extra ramblings below the cut to save space on your dashboards:

Let's move from the trinkets back towards Kit and Quinlan last, yeah?

Fizzroot Shake and Tiingilar

It isn't as obvious with the big character illustrations as with the smaller images, but I really do have some trouble with keeping things - colours and shapes - simple. It's more obvious on small things that really cannot pack or fit in all those details, so I had to do a lot of repainting (like with the fizz fuzz foam of the shake, or the bowl of the tiingilar), and truth be told I'm still not happy. Might be that the drawing is still too detailed - but in my defense this was a wind-down project for me these past few weeks.

I have collected a few references for shapes and materials and colours from both Hades and Hades2 as you can see on the margins. I am still obsessed with the glow of Hestia's keepsake, it just glows, I love it! If I were to change a few things on these I think it would be to add some more orange/yellow to the Fizzroot Shake to offset the purple a little more (like how the purple bow balances out the very bright yellow/orange of the nectar/ambrosia), and work more black into the bowl of the tiingilar. I was thinking about adding more of that blue to it, but I wonder if even at this level there is too much of it...

Anyway, I will surely be forced to learn a lot more of this when I sit down to finish all my keepsake versions. Some of those are certainly still too detailed in their current design D:

Kit and Quinlan

I took a lot of inspiration for both Kit and Quinlan's clothing from concept art and character models from TCW. Especially for the pistols and the holsters for Quinlan's black getup that he would have worn if the Dark Acolyte storyline made it into the show, I believe.

I was also very very tempted to draw Kit wearing a really high cut swimming suit without the shorts/leggings. The ones that are cut so high they display the entirety of the hips and most of the ass as well probably? But I chickened out in the end, and stuck with a semi-see-through layer on his thighs too smh

I also try to be more intentional with my shapes in these designs. I'm not sure how I'm doing with that, but I tried for a lot of triangles with Kit. And lots of greens and orange, of course. To prove that I'm learning from those Hades style breakdown videos that I'd watched last year. So I made some notes on dominant shapes with the both of them (it was mostly triangles, and Kit also got a rectangle note as well), and to pick one bright, highlight colour while I keep the others desaturated to support that colour.

I think I did better on that front with Quinlan than with Kit. The yellow and gold of all his markings and jewelry pop real nice (and even the little "jewel" highlights of green and torqois worked so well in support of each other! I was really surprised, I generally hate adding them at the end...) and with his dark clothes, skin and hair they really support that metallic brightness even with the warmer tones worked in at the edges of shadows.

Kit on the other hand, I feel he turned out too bright and warm green, and so the orange in his vambraces and clothes don't pop that much. It lacks a bit of balance maybe. There was a time when he seemed to be too dark and desaturated a green, and that was likely the step when I got too scared to trust the process and turned up my saturation a bit too much. So I tried to work a bit of light yellow into him with that bottom lighting, and it did what it could but... oh well. I still quite like it, don't misunderstand me!

I know I sound a bit nitpicky here, but in truth I'm trying to work out what I could learn from these pieces that I might use in the next one! I'm trying to be more intentional with my work, but it doesn't come very easy to me, so working through these things in these posts do help a little. And who knows, maybe it will help someone else too :)

*

Taglist of anyone who wants to be pinged once a month for these updates <3 If you want to be added to the list send me a message, or just reply to this post (a 👀 would do, nothing fancy required ;))

@elwinged @yeehawgeek @velsayshi @lionsaint

If you want to be taken off the list just message me and I’ll take you off, no hard feelings :)

[anghraine]

Happy WIP Wednesday, everyone! @brynnmclean tagged me and I seized the opportunity to write over 2000 words of one of the very early sections of the femslash Spirk fic. This isn't all of it, but quite a bit:

"Captain," said S'paak, her nod precisely calibrated to the degrees of rank between them. "You requested my presence here?" At this, Captain Pike glanced up. She saw no sign of illness or particular perturbation on his face, nothing unusual at all. Peculiar. "Commander S'paak," he replied, and gestured at one of the chairs. "Don't worry, you're not here because of any error on your part. I wanted to discuss some information you should know." "I do not experience worry," she said automatically, settling into the chair opposite him as her thoughts hurried onward. "I presume this information relates to my forthcoming duties as first officer, once you have moved on to your next assignment?" The captain smiled, though she wasn't sure what about her conclusion would provoke humor. "A reasonable presumption as ever, Commander." Pike cleared his throat, sitting down in the chair nearest him. S'paak found herself unsettled by this. Her position typically resulted in her standing or sitting at his left hand, rather than across the table, which had never struck her as quite so large before. Nor had the briefing room previously seemed so small. She nearly frowned at the thought, fanciful and useless—but then, she'd never bothered estimating the dimensions until now. "Starfleet Command has chosen their new captain," said Pike. "Finally. As the prospective first officer, you should have been notified already." "I was, sir, though I'm not familiar with Captain Kirk," S'paak admitted. "Did they inform you of the reason for such a long delay?" "Yes, surprisingly," he said. It was, indeed, unlike his superiors to explain themselves in any kind of substantive detail. S'paak waited. Captain Pike folded his hands in front of him, visibly uncomfortable despite his professional manner. She'd always admired him, but within the silent privacy of her own mind, she conceded that she did not consider his emotional transparency among his most estimable qualities. "No doubt you're aware that Jessica Kirk will be the first woman in Starfleet to captain a starship," said Pike. "It's always good to see us progress further towards our principles and ideals, of course, but I gather there was a certain ... inertia of tradition to overcome. The way things have always been done et cetera, even though she's unquestionably the best candidate. In any case, you've got your finger on the pulse of the crew. Do you think there will be any issues there?" "I don't place fingers on any pulses, captain," she said. "I have no particular medical expertise." His face gained a tinge of long-suffering patience that she perhaps enjoyed more than a Vulcan ought.

Without a change of expression, she continued, "That said, there may be some difficulties, yes. The crew is certainly too disciplined for undeserved insubordination, in my judgment, but the presence of anyone they're not accustomed to seeing in their command structure can provoke a certain amount of hostility and distrust without any logical rationale."

She knew she didn't need to offer the obvious evidence of her own experience, even if she'd never captained a starship and had no desire to do so. Pike grimaced slightly.

"True enough, unfortunately," he said, and glanced a little to the side at nothing she could see. S'paak thought it likely that he was avoiding her gaze; it was a habit of many humans when discussing the failings of their own kind, as if the disrespect directed at S'paak and others could be somehow lessened by not looking at them. Entirely illogical.

"Well," Pike added, "no doubt she'll earn their respect quickly enough."

S'paak raised an eyebrow. "May I have permission to speak freely, captain?"

"Of course."

His eyes had focused on her face once more, so she maintained even tighter control over her features than usual, and kept her hands very still. In a level voice, she asked,

"Was your career the price of this progress?"

Pike's eyes widened—not theatrically, but enough for her to understood that she had surprised him. Then he smiled again, though it didn't seem in amusement this time. Leaning back in his chair, Pike's entire posture relaxed in a way she had only observed around the senior officers.

"Not at all," he said easily. "I was getting moved up to fleet captain regardless, and this new voyage demands rather different strengths than mine."

S'paak doubted that. She'd never served under a commanding officer with more presence of mind, honesty, or unfaltering resolve. She could not bring herself to say that—at least not in those terms, which might easily sound sentimental, regardless of tone and the wealth of empirical evidence for her opinion.

"Does it?" she said.

Pike gave a crisp nod. "Yes. I'm sure you'll find it rewarding to discover and analyze new phenomena, but a five-year-long deep space mission into completely unknown and unexplored territories is likely to involve some very steep risks and personal danger for the captain."

"That's to be expected," she admitted. "You have faced those before, however. Sir."

"Not to this extent," said Pike. "At least, not recently, and certainly not for so long. It's ... let's say, entirely logical for Starfleet to search for a captain with more fortitude of mind and body than I have these days. They didn't want to sacrifice leadership ability or intelligence in their choice of commanding officer, yet this particular mission also calls for someone physically strong, resilient, dauntless. They're not wrong about that."

It was logical, yet she still did not altogether approve. But he laughed under his breath before she could register further dissent.

"Not that humans are any of those things by Vulcan standards," he said.

S'paak inclined her head, remembering herself as a child, accidentally leaving bruises on her mother's hands and arms and shoulders. She hadn't understood just how fragile Amanda was until Sarek explained the matter with the stark clarity that marked all of his explanations.

"Well, those criteria certainly narrowed down the list of possibilities, as you might imagine," he went on. "Kirk's a bit younger than they'd have preferred, so there was that to consider as well, but she's such a good fit that I gather the delay was really just dithering on their way to the inevitable."

"She did appear quite young in the photograph accompanying the personnel change," S'paak said. "It was small and of poor quality, however, so I couldn't be certain."

"She's only thirty-two or thirty-three," he replied. "She'll be the youngest captain in the fleet by years once she's given command. So I'm sure you can see why your role as first officer is likely to be particularly important in this transition, especially given your familiarity with the Enterprise and much of the crew and ... so on."

In general, S'paak found so on painfully imprecise, but his sudden awkwardness left little doubt about what he meant. She was a half-Vulcan woman as well as an experienced senior officer. On many occasions, others' reactions to her species and gender had proven inconvenient to the fulfillment of her responsibilities. Now, her years of navigating not only the science laboratories and bridge of the ship, but the petty, irrational, incessant prejudices of those on it, could only render her a more useful right hand to a young woman in the captain's seat, doing what no woman of any species had done before.

S'paak was not entirely sure what she thought of that. She simply nodded.

"If you've got any concerns or reservations," he said, "this would be a good time to air them."

She considered that, barely registering the cool, smooth texture of the table under her hands, or the mechanized air circulating through the room, or the dull simplicity of the briefing room's furnishings, or even Pike himself. S’paak had numerous points of … not curiosity, exactly, but inquiries that presented themselves to her mind. She would be first officer; she should inform herself well enough to be prepared.

"It seems to me," said S'paak slowly, "that an elevation so unprecedented, in so many ways, is improbable without some extraordinary cause or motive. Starfleet does not suffer such a dearth of qualified captains that no one else could have been found, had they wished to find someone else."

"True," he said, and just leaned back further, listening rather than interrupting her reasoning. She had always appreciated that about him.

"One obvious possibility is some form of ... I believe the usual term is nepotism," she said. "Her advancement might serve the interests of someone already in power, but the existence of a contact or relative with enough sway for such a remarkable elevation is mere speculation without evidence. Such a person would likely not be unknown, yet I have no knowledge of any connection of the kind, and I doubt anyone alive has the influence to receive such a favor when it comes to a mission of this importance. Nor would a captain be chosen for this particular mission to be simply the face of progress."

"I agree," said Pike.

"Logic suggests the more probable explanation is some extraordinary quality or action of Captain Kirk's," she said. "It could easily be both, and easily consist of many traits and successes. In fact, given the usual practices of Starfleet, anything else would be all but impossible."

Captain Pike straightened, his shoulders squaring even as his face returned to its usual friendly lines. "I can give you some peace of mind on that front."

"I do not lack peace of mind," she said flatly.

He ignored this. "She comes from a Starfleet family, sure enough—both parents, a brother—but none of them ever got as far as she has already. Respectable rather than influential. And you're right, nobody could pull strings hard enough to determine the choice of captain of the Enterprise. You don't need to worry about Jess Kirk's qualifications. Yes, sorry, I know you don't experience worry. But believe me, the woman's got a line of commendations and awards as long as my arm and a sterling reputation."

"I see," said S'paak. "Sterling in what respect, captain?"

He waved his hand at nothing in particular. "From what I've heard, most respects. She's certainly no maverick, but tactically brilliant and resourceful when given command. A reliable and steady senior officer when she's not. We've had quite a few diplomatic resolutions credited to her involvement; by all accounts, she's quite charming and friendly. Brutal in a fight, though. Several of those commendations are for saving dozens of fellow crewmen on foot."

To S'paak, this paragon sounded both worthy of admiration and profoundly alarming as a commanding officer. Pike himself had commanded the Enterprise and its crew with a cool, consistent competence she found soothing. The impression of Captain Kirk forming in her mind was of someone altogether more erratic and unpredictable.

Nothing could be done about it now, she reminded herself. And S'paak herself had never been in a position to affect this outcome. What is, is.

"I see," she said. "There is no logical reason for reservations then, captain. I hope to be of use to Captain Kirk once the voyage commences."

"I have no doubts on that point," he said, springing up from his chair and striding over to the computer. Rather than giving it any instructions, however, he studied the machine for a moment and then glanced back at S'paak. "I'll be handing over the keys in a week, if all goes according to schedule. You're welcome to join Number One and me for the occasion."

S'paak blinked, intrigued as usual by the human capacity to produce multiple grammatically perfect sentences that bordered on incomprehensibility, with no appearance of effort. But the substance of the conversation was clearly over. She got to her feet and said,

"I would be honored, captain. Do you have any other matters to discuss?"

"No, I just wanted to get the temperature and pass on useful information," he said. Then he lifted one hand into the ta'al. "S'paak, you've been a hell of an officer. Live long and prosper."

She felt a distinct and improbable burning in her eyes, inner eyelid notwithstanding. S'paak raised her own hand.

"Live long and prosper, Captain Pike," she said.

-----

Like @brynnmclean, I'm tagging my own usual suspects: @kareenvorbarra, @heckofabecca, @steinbecks, @incognitajones, and anyone else who wants to!

[pierrotwrites-hc]

part III ch3 sneak peak

Doran was a badger. 

At least that’s what Connell’s mother Reenie had said. Doran had protested: surely Connell, who regularly dug up grubs, was more like a badger than he was. (Yes, Connell dug up grubs to draw rather than to eat, but still. The point stood.)

“My Connell is a quail,” said Reenie decidedly. “He blends in when he needs to and he knows how to take care of himself. You, my lad, are a badger. Tough, clever, stubborn as anything. Hardy, too. When the weather changes, you’re the first to adapt.”

Even as a child, Doran had known Reenie wasn’t just talking about the kind of weather that spun the metal rooster on the barn roof. The Duke’s estate had its own climate, a complex system of currents and atmospheric conditions which produced storms no less intense than the ones outside. Doran often found himself caught in the crosswinds. He knew, without anyone having to tell him, that this was because the Duke loved his mother, and Lady Amelia hated her.

(The Duke told Doran’s mother he loved her, anyway. He said the same thing to his horse, and with much the same tone of voice.)

Now, a dozen years later and hundreds of miles from home, Doran had new reason to appreciate his badger-like adaptability. He’d found a nice little place for himself among the soldiers at Redditch, and there was no reason he couldn’t do the same at Guye. 

From what Doran had seen so far, Robert Black’s encampment outside Castle Guye was like and unlike the garrison at Redditch. It was full of soldiers, obviously, and soldiers were more or less the same wherever you went, but these soldiers were unusual (in Doran’s experience, at least) because observed no strict hierarchy between themselves. Once Doran got over the shock, he found this arrangement quite suited him. He had as little patience for hierarchy as a freedman as he had when he was a slave. 

And thank the gods for that. He’d feared the opposite might be true—that he might turn into one of those men hated by everyone, who shun the class they come from even as they’re kicked at by the class they want to join. A man like Hector Balkas.

Doran tried not to think about Balkas. It made his back itch. His back and his fists.

Anyway, there was no need to think about Balkas. Doran had been one to look back over his shoulder; he certainly wasn’t going to start now. Not when there was so much behind him he’d like to forget. 

That smarmy prick Robert Black had ordered him to find an occupation. Well, Doran planned to do exactly that.

The smithy seemed the obvious place to start. Doran had a strong arm and no fear of open flame, which were, as he understood it, the basic requirements for forge-work. He’d always fancied himself as a blacksmith, or maybe even a farrier. He liked horses well enough, and the leather aprons the smiths wore. Besides, he had a vague idea there was money in it. 

Money, now, that was something to be thinking about now he was free. Annie would be waiting for him on the other side of this war, and he wasn’t about to make her a pauper’s bride. She deserved better than that.

Building had started on the smithy on the moor at the same time as the privies were being dug, and while it was nothing to the mighty forge at Redditch, it was still in better nick than the rest of the camp. The crackling fire cast a ring of light and warmth that defied the gloom of the moor. In the glow, Doran saw a familiar figure straighten, hammer in one huge hand.

“Finn?”

“Doran! By the gods, it’s good to see you.”

Finn pulled Doran to his great chest and gave him a bone-cracking squeeze. 

“I see you lost the chain,” said Doran, when Finn released him. “The collar, too.”

“Mislaid it at Redditch,” said Finn cheerfully. He gestured at Doran’s bare neck. “I see you’re short a bit of metal, too.”

“Me and Connell both.” Before Finn could ask about Luca, Doran rushed on, “Tell me what happened at Redditch.”

It was the right question to ask: the garrison’s fall was still blazingly clear in Finn’s mind, and his description was absorbing enough to distract both of them from Luca. Doran hadn’t thought he had any sentimental feelings for Redditch, but hearing about the gates going up in a hail of flame and cinder gave him a funny feeling in his chest. Still, he was cheered to hear that Davies was dead. 

“The forgemaster, too,” said Finn. “Smoke poisoning, of all things.” He shook his head in disgust. “Ah, well, at least he’s gone. Gods forgive me, Doran, but it’s a better world for him being out of it.”

Doran agreed. As far as he was concerned, there were still far too many men like the forgemaster left in the world, and smoke poisoning was far too kind a fate for any of them.

Unfortunately, at this point Finn turned to far less interesting topic, namely the valor, gallantry, and general heroism of Robert Black. 

“He came out of the fire with his sword flashing, like something out of a legend. Rallied the men with a word. They say Roland had Melchior’s blood, but I never believed it til I saw Black in action. He’s a commander, all right. The real thing, not a pretender like Davies and Balkas.”

Doran must’ve winced. Finn gave him a sympathetic look.

“No fond feelings for your old master, eh? I don’t blame you. Balkas was a brute. I’ll never forget that whipping. No wonder Luca was passing the bastard’s secrets on to Black.”

“You knew?” 

“Yeah, he told me,” said Finn, shrugging. “Needed me to make him a contraption to smuggle information out of Breakwater. And here, listen to this—turns out my daughter joined up with the rebels! She’s alive, Doran, can you believe it?”

“That’s fantastic,” said Doran, his mind still on Luca. “Is she here at Guye?”

“Black left her with friends in the Midlands. A gentleman by the name of Fourteys. He’s got an daughter Wilma’s age. Good people, Black says. They won’t treat my girl like a drudge. And Black wrote to tell Fourteys about me, so he can tell my Wilma that papa is coming for her just as soon as he can.” 

Finn had gone wet around the eyes. Doran pretended not to notice, to spare the big man his dignity. 

As Finn pulled himself together, Doran thought back on what he’d just learned. Finn had known Luca was a spy. Toby knowing was bad enough, but at least Toby had figured it out himself. Luca had actually told Finn. Luca never told anyone anything about himself if he could help it. Connell said they shouldn’t pry; Luca would share when he was ready. And he had shared—a little, anyway—and even if most of it was fucking horrifying, Doran was still grateful to hear it. He knew it wasn’t easy for Luca to tell. That made sense, Doran supposed. If he’d been stripped down as often as Luca, maybe he would’ve clung to his secrets, too. Maybe it made him feel a little less naked, knowing there parts of him the men would never see.

So, fine, let Luca keep his secrets. He’d a right to them. But to trust one of the biggest to Finn! Finn was a nice bloke, but he was a fucking stranger compared to Doran. Hell, Luca one of Doran’s closest friends. He’d thought Luca felt the same.

Maybe he’d thought wrong.

“Twinge in my head,” said Doran, seeing Finn’s questioning look. “Anyone else we know come to Guye from Redditch?” 

Finn rattled off a few names, mostly free laborers or freed forgeworkers. “And Mal Fergus, of course. Never one to pass up an opportunity, eh? His brother’s here too. Ned. Joined the rebels at Absalom. Nice as anything, Ned is, and honest as they come. Dunno how Mal came out so crooked and his brother so straight, but that’s family for you.”

Doran thought of Toby and winced again. No mystery as to which of them was the crooked one.

He’d been wondering how to ask Finn about apprenticing at the forge—as a slave he’d always just been assigned work; he had no idea how to go about asking for it—but luckily Finn gave him the perfect opening. They’d set up Redditch as a sort of arms factory for the Midlands, and most of the smiths had been left behind to run it; they were badly undermanned here at Guye. Oh, no doubt the Dogs of Guye had their own smiths, but Finn wasn’t keen on the chances of peaceful collaboration, not after all the trouble over Luca when they arrived.

Here Finn broke off, and Doran could tell he was about to ask if Doran had heard anything about Luca. To cut him off, Doran blurted out his plan (stupid, now he heard himself stammering it aloud) to train as a blacksmith, or maybe a farrier—something along those lines, anyway, and might there be a place for him at the forge?

To Doran’s relief, Finn responded so enthusiastically it was clear that help was badly needed indeed. 

“You won’t be at an anvil right away, mind,” Finn warned him. “It’ll be fetch and carry work, cleaning tools and the like, but you’ll learn as you go, and the lads’ll be glad of the help.”

Fetch and carry work sounded unpleasantly like what Doran had done as Balkas’s drudge, but he supposed even free men had to start somewhere. 

Mal Fergus wasn’t hard to find. He’d found a plum spot to pitch his tent and was dealing out a hand from his “lucky” (for which read “rigged”) deck of cards to a group of soldiers. They were a mixed lot, three Solasans and an Enkaaran, plus a Guyish-looking fellow chewing a birch twig. All watched Fergus deal with the keen avidity of seasoned gamblers.

Fergus, of course, looked like butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth. That was his real gift, Doran thought, even more than quick hands and a devious mind: the ability to appear totally plausible even as he was swindling a group of heavily-armed men. 

As Doran approached the table, a boy stepped out from behind the table to block his path. He looked barely old enough to have left home.

“We’ve got a full table,” he said, crossing his arms.

At this, Fergus looked up to see Doran and broke into a broad grin.

“Doran, as I live and breathe! Fellows, excuse me a moment. My lieutenant here will take over.”

“You set up your new operation fast,” said Doran once he and Fergus were out of earshot. (He bit back the sir just in time.) “Got a new flunky and everything. Did you ditch Carnaby and Graeme at Redditch?”

“I buried them at Redditch.”

Fergus said this so casually that Doran gave him a sharp look. But he wasn’t joking. He wore his usual mild, mocking expression, but his jaw was tight, his eyes remote.

“They died when Black’s men took the garrison?” Doran asked.

“They were Black’s men by then. I recruited them. Maybe if I hadn’t, they wouldn’t’ve been killed by their own barracks-mates.” He tried to smile. “Well, here we are. Out of the ashes and all that. Are you happy to see me?”

“Delighted.”

Now it was Fergus’s turn to give Doran a sharp look.

“Still haven’t forgiven me for cutting you off, eh?”

“I know that was Mouse’s doing.”

“Yeah, but your Mouse is hard to hold a grudge against. Especially now.”

Doran forced himself to shrug. A tense, effortful gesture. Like shouldering a stone.

“Anyway,” he said, “I figure you owe me a drink, s—Fergus. Now I’m a free man and all.”

Fergus laughed.

“That’s right! I promised to take you out on the town, didn’t I?” 

“And rent us a pretty girl.”

“Too bad there’s none of those around. Nancy and the rest stayed back in the Midlands.”

“Good,” said Doran, with a vehemence that took both of them aback. He cleared his throat. “You’ve set up quite the a nice little operation here, s—Fergus. Not worried about Black bringing the hammer down?”

“Ah, well. The thing about Black is, he wants everyone to get along. And cards, they’re the great unifier. A common language, see? Solasans, Enkaarans, Northmen—we all speak aces and spades.”

Doran was about to retort when his gaze was caught by a passerby. Words fled.

It was the young man from Black’s tent, of course, the one with the honey-colored eyes and scar on his cheek. He moved lightly, in long strides, like a stalking cat. His clothes hung well on him; Doran could imagine the tapered waist and lean, muscled thighs beneath the fabric.

He was brought back to earth by Fergus jabbing a sharp finger into his ribs.

“Better watch that roving eye of yours, Doran. That lad’s not on the market.”

“He’s got a lover?”

“A protector, anyway.” 

“How protective of a protector?”

“Put it this way: I’d rather steal a boy from the King’s seray than try to chat up Robert Black’s adoptive brother.”

Oh, fields of hell. Doran was beginning to think that Robert Black had been sent by the gods to thwart him. 

“They’re that close, eh?” said Doran weakly.

“I hear Tam Tregeryth himself wanted to court the lad, but when he went to Black for permission, Black threatened to cut off his head and post it on a pike. He’d do it, too. Gods know he’s ruthless enough. And you must’ve seen that barbarian bodyguard of his. Inseparable, the two of them. Anyway, after that, Black put the word out: Asher Lacey is strictly off-limits.”

“You’re well-informed,” said Doran, trying not to sound bitter. “Been collecting gossip like a fishwife, have you?” 

“I keep my ears open, that’s all.”

“You hear anything about Lord Tobias?”

“Balkas’s shitty little squire?” said Fergus, surprised. “Yeah, he’s up at the Castle. Best-treated prisoner in the kingdom, from what I hear.” He eyed the healing bruises on Doran’s cheek and temple. “A fair sight better than the Dogs treated you, I don’t doubt.”

“They had their reasons,” said Doran. He couldn’t explain without telling Fergus what had happened with Luca, and he’d rather have Robert Black’s bodyguard cut off his head and post it on a pike. 

“Well, if you’re keen on revenge, we’ve had more than a few Northmen sneak out to the moor for a bit of action,” said Fergus. “Would be nice to have a strapping fellow like yourself around to keep an eye on things, like you did at Redditch.”

By keep an eye on things Doran knew Fergus meant stand between me and the pissed-off fellow waving a knife. Doran hadn’t minded when the fellow in question was Solasan: their soldiers were generally willing to let themselves be talked down from a fight, especially if there was a bribe in the offing. But the weeks Doran and Connell had spent as the low men in the Dogs’ hierarchy hadn’t exactly left him impressed with their restraint. And the Enkaarans were a totally unknown quantity.

Seeing his hesitation, Fergus said, “At Redditch, you wanted a free man’s cut. You’re worth more than that to me now, especially with Graeme and Carnaby gone. What d’you say to ten percent of the winnings?”

“Call it twenty, if I’m worth that much to you.”

“Cut the difference at fifteen and I’ll shake your hand, freedman.”

Doran hesitated. Could he get more if he pushed? 

But he was tired of pushing. Whatever fight was left in him after that nightmare journey through the Wychwood had been leached away in the cold void of the pit. Besides, knowing what Fergus took in from the punters at Redditch, fifteen percent was nothing to sneeze at.

As they shook hands, Doran thought of Robert Black ordering him to find an occupation. Well, hark at him now: two occupations before noon, and hardly any work at all to get.

How’s that for earning my supper? he thought triumphantly.

[kiszjuli]

PERFECT EXCUSE .ᐟ

✸ playful!chenle x fem!reader | genre. fluff | w.c 2.2k | ♡

↳synopsis. you never cared much for valentine’s day. it’s not that you needed to, because school was more important. however, when you get roped into a (stupid) day at the valentine’s day fair, with the annoyingly charming zhong chenle, maybe your perspective will change.

↳playlist. good days - sza. the perfect pair - beabadoobee. bad - wavetoearth. rainbow - nct dream. sunflower - swae lee. love countdown - nayeon.

valentine’s day at college was a disaster waiting to happen. at least, that’s how you’d always viewed it. all the heart-shaped decorations, the excessive amounts of candy, the couples holding hands like they were somehow more in love because of the date on the calendar. it was just a lot of noise—unnecessary noise at that. your life was perfectly organized, your time always scheduled, and you certainly didn’t need some manufactured holiday reminding you that romance existed.

but, of course, your best friend mia had other plans.

“please, just come with me,” mia begged, standing in your dorm doorway, her eyes wide and pleading. “you know i can’t go alone, and honestly, i need you to go so i can be with felix. i’ll owe you, i swear. just this once. for me?”

you rolled your eyes. felix was mia’s crush—one of your other friends who had a thing for always being the center of attention. you couldn’t really say no, knowing how much it meant to her, especially since she’d been talking about him nonstop for weeks. if she wasn’t your best friend, you would’ve said no.

“fine,” you muttered, sighing, setting your textbooks down. “but i’m only coming because you’re clearly desperate, and i’m not staying long.”

mia’s face lit up as if you’d just given her the world. “you’re the best! i’ll make it worth your while, i promise.” she ran to you, attacking you in a hug.

—

so here you were, standing outside the valentine’s day fair on campus, which, unsurprisingly, looked like cupid threw up. balloons floated lazily above booths, and the scent of cotton candy and fried food was everywhere. people roamed around in pairs, couples wrapped in the gooey sweetness of the holiday, while you tried your best to keep the grimace off your face.

“i’m going to go find felix,” mia said, her voice practically vibrating with excitement. “you’re fine here. i’ll text you in a bit.” she dashed off before you could even say anything in protest. your words dying on your tongue as you sighed deeply.

great, you thought. now you were stuck in the middle of this chaos, alone and—if you were being honest—irritated. you wandered toward the game booths, wondering how long you could fake having fun, a familiar voice called out from behind you.

“hey, you’re not trying to sneak off and study, are you?”

you turned to find zhong chenle leaning against one of the booths, casually sipping from a drink, his bright smile practically glowing in the chaos around you. chenle was the kind of guy who could brighten up a room with barely any effort. always cheerful, always a little too playful, he had a way of dragging you into whatever ridiculous situation he was in—whether you liked it or not.

“chenle,” you said with a sigh, trying not to let your annoyance show. “what are you doing here?”

“i could ask you the same thing.” he grinned. “are you here for the lovey dovey atmosphere, or for the free candy?”

you crossed your arms. “neither. i’m here because mia begged me to come. and now i’m completely regretting it.”

he laughed at that, his voice like music, light and easy. “you know, it’s not so bad once you give in. the fair’s actually kinda fun, once you stop being all… ‘up tight’ about everything.”

you shot him a glare. “i’m not ‘up tight.’ i just have better things to do than waste my time at some cheesy fair.”

chenle raised an eyebrow and stepped closer. “you say that now. you’re already stuck here so…might as well make it worth your while.”

you didn’t know why, but his playful tone made you feel slightly… off balance. you’d never been good at letting go of your well-structured plans, but something about his easy confidence made you want to step outside your comfort zone. you shook the thought away.

“yeah, well, mia’s gone, and i’m stuck walking around by myself, in a place where i don’t really wanna be. not really my idea of fun.”

“stuck?” chenle tilted his head, as if considering your words. “you don’t have to be stuck.” his grin widened. “here, how about this? us. you. me. valentine’s day fair.”

you blinked, unsure if you’d heard him correctly. “what?”

“no, seriously,” he said, his voice dropping to a playful, almost firm tone. “i’m asking you out. right here, right now. us, enjoying the fair.” his grin was wide, but there was an edge of sincerity to his words that caught you off guard.

you almost laughed, half in disbelief. “you’re asking me out—here? now?”

chenle shrugged, unfazed. “why not? where better to then here? what else is valentine’s day about if not taking chances?”

you stared at him for a long moment, your mind racing. it wasn’t like you hadn’t noticed chenle’s charm or the way he made everything seem easier than it was. but asking you out here? it was so out there, so unlike the controlled life you were used to.

“i don’t know…” you said slowly, shaking your head. “i have a lot of work to do, and—”

“hey, hey.” chenle cut you off, his voice almost pleading, but still playful. “come on. just one day, no homework, no plans. just us and some fun what do you say?”

you felt yourself still hesitating. for all your plans and your need to be in control, something about the way he said it made you think that maybe, just maybe, you could let go for once.

“i see it, you’re giving in,” he smirks pointing at you.

“fine,” you said, a little too quickly, surprising yourself. “one hour. and i’m nothing cheesy,”

chenle’s grin was so wide, you swore he was glowing. “deal.”

and just like that, you found yourself swept up into whatever mess chenle had in mind for the day.

—

“you won’t regret this,” chenle says, grinning as he tugs you forward, weaving through the crowd. his grip on your wrist is light, like he knows you could change your mind at any second. and honestly, you might.

it was way too loud for your liking. screams and yells ring through the air, couples walking past hand in hand, some holding oversized stuffed animals, others sharing pink cotton candy like something straight out of a cliché rom-com. exactly the kind of thing you didn’t sign up for.

“i already regret it,” you mutter, adjusting your bag strap.

chenle hums like he doesn’t hear you—or, more likely, like he’s choosing not to.

then he stops, turning to face you with a dramatic flourish. “so, where should we start our date?”

you groan, smacking his arm. “this is not a date.”

chenle only laughs. “alright, alright. how about something simple? games?” he gestures toward the ones with flashing lights and prizes hanging from the ceilings—rows of giant plushies, novelty heart pillows, and even a ridiculously large teddy bear.

you eye the setup warily. “you mean the games that are totally rigged?”

“that’s loser talk.” he slings an arm over your shoulders before you can protest, steering you toward the booths. his warmth is distracting, and you hate how easy it is for him to act like this—like this whole thing is normal.

he stops in front of a classic ring toss booth, plopping down a few bills. “three tries,” the vendor says, handing over the rings.

chenle smirks, holding up a ring between two fingers. “watch and learn.”

you cross your arms. “you’re gonna lose.”

“you doubt me? me?” he presses a hand over his chest in mock offense. “that hurts. deeply.”

you roll your eyes, but you don’t miss the way his lips twitch, barely holding back a grin. and maybe you’re just a little curious to see if he can actually win.

the first ring bounces off the bottle. the second does the same.

you glance at him, smug. “loser talk, huh?”

chenle exhales, rolling his shoulders like he’s about to take the final shot of an nba game. then, he tosses the last ring.

it lands perfectly.

the booth lights flash, and the vendor claps once. “winner!”

chenle throws his arms up like he just won an olympic gold medal, then turns to you, triumphant. “see? skill.”

you shake your head, unimpressed. “that was luck.”

“skill,” he repeats, accepting the prize. a heart-shaped plushie. he turns to you, eyes twinkling, and before you can react, he presses it into your arms.

you blink down at it. “what—”

“you did say no cheesy stuff, but, y’know.” he shrugs. “couldn’t help myself.”

your fingers tighten around the plushie despite yourself. you tell yourself it means nothing. that he’s just being his usual, annoying self.

but when you look up, he’s already watching you, a small, knowing smile playing at his lips.

and for the first time tonight, you don’t have a quick comeback.

—

you don’t know when it happens—when the reluctant acceptance of being here turns into something else, something dangerously close to enjoying yourself. it had been at least an hour by now, you didn’t notice, not keeping track anymore.

maybe it’s when chenle insists on buying you a strawberry milkshake, claiming it matches the “valentine’s aesthetic” before promptly stealing half of it with a smug grin. or maybe it’s when he drags you to the dart booth, loses spectacularly, and then pouts at you until you give up your last attempt—only for you to actually win, leaving him in stunned silence before he bursts into laughter.

“i can’t believe this,” he groans, throwing an arm over his eyes dramatically. “this is the worst day of my life.”

you snort, sipping the remnants of your milkshake. “you’re just mad i’m better than you.”

chenle lowers his arm, watching you with that ever-present amusement in his eyes. “nah, i’m just mad i have to give you all my future winnings now. gotta keep my girl’s record clean.”

you freeze.

he doesn’t, not even for a second, like he didn’t just say something that sent your brain into overdrive. instead, he steps closer, leaning in slightly. “huh. no comeback?”

your fingers tighten around the stuffed bear he won for you earlier, and you tear your gaze away, heart pounding in your chest. “shut up.”

he laughs, the sound rich and full, and for once, you don’t mind being the reason for it.

the realization hits you then—soft but certain. you like being here. you like chenle. you had for a while; behind all the sourness you felt towards him, hearing his laugh, bubbly personality, and seeing his stupid smile. and the worst part? you don’t even want to fight it anymore.

—

the sun has nearly set, casting the fairgrounds in a golden haze, and you swear the air feels different—softer, warmer, like the world itself is urging you to stay in this moment a little longer.

“okay,” you murmur, just loud enough for him to hear. “this wasn’t terrible.”

chenle turns to you, grinning like he’s just won the biggest prize of the night. “that’s it? that’s all i get?”

you roll your eyes, but there’s no real annoyance behind it. “okay, fine. i had fun, okay?”

he hums, clearly satisfied, and nudges your shoulder with his. “good. now let’s end on a high note.”

you don’t even have time to question it before he’s steering you toward the ferris wheel. the line is short, and before you can put up a fight—not that you’re sure you even want to—he’s already handing over tickets, tugging you into one of the cars.

the ride begins, slow and steady, lifting you above the fair, above the laughter and music, until all that’s left is the quiet hum of the night and the soft glow of carnival lights below.

chenle leans back, stretching out like he owns the place, but then he turns his head, watching you carefully. “so?”

you glance at him. “so what?”

he tilts his head, eyes warm, knowing. “so, am i growing on you?”

you’ve always thought of chenle as loud, unpredictable, a little too confident for his own good. but here, in the quiet, you see something else—the way his eyes search yours like he’s trying to figure out what you’re thinking, the way his fingers tap idly against his knee, like he’s waiting for something.

you let out a breath of laughter, but your heart betrays you, beating faster than it should. you should have a snarky response, something quick and teasing, but all you can do is hold his gaze, the space between you charged with something unspoken.

he shifts closer, not enough to cross a line, but enough to make it clear—if you wanted to close the gap, he wouldn’t stop you.

your fingers tighten around the stuffed bear in your lap.

“maybe,” you whisper.

chenle’s smile softens, and then he gently reaches out, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear, fingertips lingering just a second too long.

the ferris wheel slows, grounding you, but as you look at him, at the way he’s watching you like he’s memorizing every detail, you realize something—

maybe you don’t mind falling, after all.

—

taggies(open) ↳ @kittydollzz @huffnpufffck @completelyjae @lovesuhng @nae-vm @ayibdorrt @chocoriki @yomaman @yukisroom97

⁀➷⊹ ࣪ ˖~ THE LA LA LOVE SERIES .ᐟ

[pearlescentparade]

Get me a Medkit fic where the reader is sexually frustrated and needs him, and Medkit eventually helps them out after they try to play it off after his work shift? ❤️

10 years get added onto my lifespan everytime i get a medkit request

⬧ medkit x reader smut ❤️‍🔥

you straddle medkit's lap, thighs snug around his waist while his hands leisurely roam up your back. a soft groan emits from your throat as he plants a trail of small kisses down to your collarbone. the way he precisely administers them feels methodical, as if he'd calculated these specific spots would be most efficient in evoking your satisfaction. as he moves, the soft and velvety fabric of his eyepatch brushes against your flesh. you don't fight the smile that your lips curl into from the ticklish sensation.

"mm," medkit lets out a low sigh, relishing the moment. it's rare for him to 'be in the mood', so imagine your delightful surprise when he led you to the bedroom first thing when he came home. today had gone particularly well: he hadn't been bothered for healing at all, the weather was pleasant, and he didn't have to run from any.. 'unsavory' guests. a more-than-welcome difference from the usual exasperation and annoyance.

"hehe, what's with you today?" "what was it that you told me? ah yes, 'celebrate the small things in life?' i'm doing just that. don't tell me you don't like it?" he pulls away to look up at you. to anyone else, his expression would appear as if he's uninterested. but you could tell from his brows being furrowed less, the shape of his eyes being droopy rather than tense and flat, and the ghost of a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth that he's wholly enraptured by you. of course he knows you like it. you're so giddy whenever he initiates love-making, it helps to assure you that he desires you in the same way.

"nope, i don't like it at all." leaning in, you take hold of his dress shirt's collar and bring him closer, maintaining eye contact as you do. "i love it." right after, you let yourself fall onto the bed, giggling as you bring an unsuspecting medkit down with you.

"oh, you little- that's enough," contrary to his poised and mellow tone, the kiss he captures you in is heated and passionate but certainly not sloppy. as he begins sucking on your bottom lip, your arms come up to wrap around his nape as you moan. needily, you grind your hips upward into his, sensing medkit's clothed and growing erection rub against your crotch. a husky groan escapes from him, you always know how to push him. when you decide that the clothed stimulation isn't enough anymore, your hands fly to undo your pants.

but when you hook your finger inside your waistband to slide them off, an grating ringing from medkit's red analog telephone makes you yelp and jump in your skin. an expression of concern flashes on his face, initially worried that he'd hurt you, before dropping to his usual irate look upon when he processes the true reason behind your reaction a bit later. red is a fitting color, because it perfectly symbolizes medkit's burning-hot rage at the interruption. he swears that he can't have anything good in his life.

he harshly mutters curses under his breath, "oh for fuck's- what could i possibly be needed for now?"

the agitated look in his eyes momentarily softens when he glances to you. you think it's sweet that he consciously makes the effort to abate his aloofness whenever he regarded you. "excuse me, dear." you simply nod in understanding, as he hesitantly withdraws from you and climbs off the bed to go answer the phone. of course you feel disappointed, moments like these are already hard to come by as they are with medkit. you sigh, coming to the realization that you'll likely have to spend yet another night alone. but what can you do? your lover is a busy man, especially considering that healers are few and far between in the inpherno. you are important, sure, but nowhere near as important as his work.

medkit peers at your solemn frown as you lose yourself in thought, allowing the blabbering on the other line to fade into the background. you're smart enough to know he'd take you over any duty, if he had the choice. yet it doesn't hurt any less when he's forced to pick the latter every time. and to have to leave right as you two were getting to the lively part? how uncouth.

..does the cult have 'bring your partner to work' day?

***

uncomfortably, you shift side to side on a stool situated on the other side of the room from where medkit's working. bright sparks fly out from the project that he's bent over, and the sound of whirring from various tools (in addition to the ambient hum from the overhead lights) save you from sitting in absolute silence.

apparently, he'd been called back to the temple for a commission to make some alterations to the acolytes' gears. not only that, he thought it'd do you well to go with him, since 'you looked like you didn't want him to leave so soon'. it came as a surprise, he'd always insisted that your relationship be kept under secure wraps because he didn't want your association with him to paint a target on your back. when he'd brought you, he even came up with some shoddy cover for your identity, apathetically writing you off as a mere 'assistant' to anyone who asked. today, he's just full of surprises.. but to say you're glad he didn't leave you is an understatement.

..but to say you're still horny as fuck from earlier and your pussy is absolutely throbbing for him is an even greater understatement.

doing your best to be inconspicuous about it, you start humping one of the corners of the seat for a bit of much desired stimulation. with every roll of your hips, the poor chair squeaks in distress as you defile it. you know better than to disturb medkit's workflow, especially when it comes to his job. it's fine, he can keep working, you don't need him to satisfy you! you can do it all by yourself—

"if you're feeling restless, perhaps a walk break might suffice to help?" he doesn't even look up from the gear he's tinkering with as he flatly acknowledges your noise level. his firm tone is similar to a teacher addressing a misbehaving student, an invisible warning lying beneath his polite words. though, if it was anyone else, he would've demanded them to leave straight-up rather than disguise it as a mere suggestion.

your face flushes and you pause your senseless bucking, embarrassed that you'd gotten so carried away that you forgot he could hear you. "oh- no, i'm.. i'm fine." and yet, the thought of testing how far you could take it before medkit realizes you're masturbating made your stomach flip. all he does is shrug, back still turned to you. "if you insist. then, do keep it down back there."

an idea sprouts in your mind when he revs up one of his tools.

every time he uses a particularly loud one, you grind down on the corner again. the noise from the instrument drowns out the creaking from you shamelessly jacking off on the seat enough so that medkit won't pick up on it. for extra precaution, you clasp a hand over your mouth to muffle your light moans. arousal churns in your stomach as the frame of the chair deliciously brushes against your covered clit, delivering delightful buzzes of pleasure with each press.

building to your climax is taking a lot of effort out of you considering that you're still clothed, if the sweat rolling down your blushing face and your heaving breaths are anything to go by, but you don't dare remove them in case medkit turns around and sees you. you close your eyes and imagine it's him stimulating you instead, his tongue, his hand, his cock, whatever. you didn't need him.. you can be satisfied just by the image of him, that's all you need..

frustrated, you drill your hips deeper onto the edge than you anticipated and fail to stifle the high wail that comes out. at the same time, medkit turns off the tool he's using. you freeze immediately, watching for his next move. it takes all of your power to allow the heat in your lower region to fade from the lack of stimulation, leaving only a needy ache in its place. a tremor courses through your body. he didn't hear, did he? he simply stays at the desk, like he's contemplating the next step. your horny ass hopes to the swords that he gets back to work quickly.

"i'm done." well, at least one of you finished. you scramble to a normal sitting position when medkit turns around, hiding your disappointment in failing your little game. he begins to walk towards you, however, his face grows progressively scrutinizing as he closes the distance.

medkit's hand comes up to grasp your chin, turning your head from one side to the other. your heartbeat quickens under his careful observation. "my my, you don't look too good." the back of his hand lays against your sweltering forehead. he feels frigid by comparison. "a fever, perhaps?" worry weaves itself in his tone. guilt strikes your heart. poor medkit, concerned about your health, meanwhile it's because you were being naughty behind his back.

you stammer out, "really? 'cause i feel- i feel fine! it's probably just a bit hot in here, hah.." unfortunately, you can't help but think that his hand ought to be somewhere much, much lower. the soft flesh of your thighs feel sticky as you squeeze them together, still mourning your failed climax.

medkit quirks a brow and opens his mouth, but ultimately decides to keep whatever he was going to say to himself. instead, he remarks, "i stand corrected. seems i'm going to have to work overtime."

curious, you tilt your head as he steps away to lock the door with a decisive click. then, he takes you by the hand, having you hop off your chair, and leads you to his desk. carefully, the doctor pushes all of his work from earlier aside and hoists you onto the table, earning a surprised yelp from you.

"relax, i'll only be checking for symptoms. we don't want you getting sick, do we?" obediently, you shake your head 'no'. it feels like you're digging yourself deeper into a hole. why does he have to make such a fuss over you being a little sweaty and warm?

"unfortunately, i can't find my thermometer. but i can improvise. now, say ah.." there's no room to argue as medkit prods a thumb at your lips, expectantly glancing up and raising his eyebrows at you to open wide for him. you do so. when he slips his thumb in, he instructs, "close." again, you obey, lips sitting around his knuckle. inside, his thumb swirls around, petting and pressing down on your tongue. your arousal kicks up again. the urge to suck on him is overwhelmingly tempting. no, it's simply an innocent check-up.. he's just doing his job as a doctor and your partner and looking out for you, that's all...

so why are your pants off?

a sudden gust of cool air rushing against your bare, soaking pussy hits you with the realization. your face burns with embarrassment, but before you can rush to explain yourself, medkit shoves his thumb further down your throat to hinder your ability to talk. his voice drops to a soothing whisper, "shh. i must say, you're not good at hiding. but i know you've been wanting this for some time. so allow me." he withdraws his saliva-covered finger from your quivering mouth, then uses it to spread your crying folds.

slowly, medkit lowers himself and swipes his tongue once, collecting your condensed natural wetness and drawing out a shudder from you. "yum." his sarcastic commentary almost makes you want to just shove him into your pussy, but any retort you had emerges as an airy cry after he slides his tongue deeper into your sex.

"m.. medkit-!" weakly, you squirm from the sensation. with no real intent to escape, of course. medkit chuckles. you can feel him smiling against your labia. "it's adorable, truly. did you think i paid so little attention to you? what nonsense."

his quip teeters between praise and teasing, but it carries an air of fondness either way. you understand now, it was foolish to pretend that you could do without him. every sensation he graces you with only heightens your burning desire just for him.

already, he feels leagues better than the chair. your muscles twitch as his tongue laps you up, excited from the quality pleasure they were finally receiving. he always knows exactly how to turn you into putty within seconds, how to stuff your brain with nothing but cotton and thoughts of him. all of the noises that spill from your mouth are either soft whimpers or broken up babbling as medkit hungrily eats you out. his tongue brushes against a particularly sensitive spot, bringing you back to reality as pleasure jolts you awake.

"-ah..! right there.. please-", you gasp. like an answer to your pleas, he relentlessly attacks that spot, hitting that button with unwavering consistency. your head falls back as you shakily grind into medkit's mouth, effectively riding it as you chase your building orgasm. fighting through the fog of your mind, you're able to place a hand on his head and pet him gently. in response, he hums and purrs contently, sending waves of vibration reverberating throughout your sensitive sex.

"nghh.. medkit, i'm- ah- i'm gonna.. close-!" his wet tongue feels like heaven, so much so that you can barely intelligibly warn him of your incoming orgasm. but he's more than aware, attentive as he is. with the thumb he'd stuck in your mouth earlier, he firmly massages your clit in a circular motion.

your moans climb higher and higher until the knot finally snaps, and you climax with a scream. on instinct, your thighs close around medkit's head, hugging his face as you squirt all over it. undeterred, his mouth stays on your sex, generously giving a few long strokes to help you ride out the aftershocks and drink up your nectar. when he pulls away, his face is dusted pink similar to yours and his suit jacket appears to be slipping off of his shoulders.

you're completely blissed out as you sit there, chest heaving and mouth agape. a chaste kiss on your forehead from medkit, which you barely even process, is what grounds you. your eyelashes flutter as you glance to him. he'd already wiped you down, and was beginning to clean his semen-drenched face when you'd looked over. usually, medkit hates to make a mess, but it seems he can tolerate it as long as you're the mess.

curious and sheepish, you ask, "..when did you know i was.. y'know...?" as if he had to reach into his mind to remember, he looks up as he recalls, "oh, i don't know, maybe.. the first time the chair creaked?" he then nods, locking it in as his definitive answer. "yes, i believe so." from the pile of your bottomwear that he'd sneakily shed off of you earlier, he hands you your soaked underwear, which you abashedly take and put on. the wetness is uncomfortable, but you'd have to deal with it until you got home.

you huff in offense as you shimmy your pants on, "so you knew the whole time. and here i thought i was being so sneaky..." unbelievable, that jerk knew he'd have you in the palm of his hand so he let you go on for so long!

medkit dryly laughs, "at least you don't have to worry about making dinner tonight. you gave me plenty to eat just now."

to hear such dirty talk coming from the usually reserved and classy doctor never fails to put you in shock.

(parade postscript: oh my goodness this took me like 4 days to write im so sorry about the content drought yall smut is always more time-consuming to write for </3 my early valentines gift to you all also @camiene look what youve done YOU MADE THESE PEOPLE THINK IT'S CHILL TO JS TELL ME TO "GET THEM A FIC" like im getting them another BEER OR SOMETHING /lh)

[crazylittlejester]

You've mentioned projecting actual stuff from your life onto Wars and I just. I have to ask. Did you also realize that you liked men via crawling out a window

(edit: yap warning, because for some reason i wrote way more than was necessary and lore dropped things i certainly didn’t need to but my head hurts too bad to skim through and cut things out so yippee enjoy the not asked for history of me being bi)

god i fucking wish that’s much more iconic than the truth- tho i have done plenty of crawling out of windows before (Actually now that I’m thinking about it, I made someone I crawled out a window with realize THEY liked men- And also question their gender- and then a good bit later I dated that person)

when did i realize i liked men? the second baby me set eyes on orlando bloom as will turner, pirates of the caribbean is 100% responsible for me being bisexual /j

when did i realize I Liked Men and that, in the conservative environment i was raised in, that was “Not Normal” and therefore made me gay: at 11 years old when my school had an assembly to talk about why you shouldn’t be attracted to the same gender and i broke down crying afterwards lmao

as a demisexual biromantic autistic guy you gotta understand for a good long while i thought i was living the universal experience and that people were lying when they said they were only attracted to one gender. i thought sexual attraction was fake- for years- and because i was raised in such a religious environment where people do not talk about sex or sexuality i went 11 years without truly realizing what being queer WAS. so finally realizing what being gay meant and what the reality of not being straight in the community i was in was was genuinely devastating because i realized very quickly that i was different and all the people around me would hate me for it

while pirates of the caribbean is definitely Thee bisexual movie, in all seriousness I don’t think i ever realized i liked men. i just always did, but i realized the ‘consequences’ of that in the eyes of the church at a middle school assembly, and i dealt with a lot of internalized homophobia for years after that

and then the first person i ever dated was a man, who kept telling me he wasn’t gay which… m not sure how dating another dude makes you straight but alright….

ANYWAYS yeah, i defeated my internalized homophobia by kissing men and climbing out windows and then making more people gay. not as iconic as Warriors, but 🤷‍♂️

also just to be so so so crystal clear to anyone seeing this: my blog is a safe space 🏳️‍🌈🏳️‍⚧️ i do not tolerate homophobia or transphobia of any kind. i know firsthand what it’s like to have to hide who you are and to have to realize there are people in your life that you still love even though who you’re attracted to has weakened THEIR love for you, and i can’t control the world but this blog WILL be a safe space for people to be themselves. and to any queer person reading this who’s been feeling really down and stressed about everything thats going on, i love you and im here for you if you need it. you’re not alone

[emma-ofnormandy]

Ooof- I haven’t written anything of significance in at least six months, probably more. So a big shout out to @mercurygray for hosting the 2025 @blind-dates-fest. It got me writing a bit and hopefully I can keep it going. Without further a do, an introduction to Felicity Collins- an OC for the SAS: Rogue Heroes fandom.

She hated the damp, she hated the cold, and it seemed like that was all London offered once the sun went down. At least in Cairo, even in the darkest depths of the night, the air was warm, and the breeze carried a hint of something wonderful rather than the lingering chill and the overwhelming scent of depression.

At least it was what she imagined depression would smell like if it had a scent.

Felicity didn’t remember this place being so miserable as a young girl. Then again, London hadn’t been thrust into a world war back then, and she hadn’t yet experienced the feel of regular sunshine. God she missed Cairo. She missed the sun, she missed the food. She missed the simplicity of it, of her existence before she’d thought she needed to do more. 

Why had she thought she needed to do more?

It was a question that grated every time she sat through another meeting, more often than not a useless one, filled with people who carried too many secrets and couldn’t tell full truths. 

The most recent one she had been forced to endure, the one that had her dragging her feet through the dark and damp hours long past her planned outbound train departure, had been another one of those… the useless kind. 

British SOE had spoken ad nauseam about things she had already been briefed about and drove home the fact, in no uncertain terms, that her bosses answered to them, damn what the Prime Minister believed. Anyone under the guise of the twenty committee, or any other SS moniker for that matter, were allowed to operate as they did simply at the benevolence of the Army.

As if the fact that they were a security office, outside the confines of military protocol and therefore free to pick and plant and decipher as they saw fit, was irrelevant. 

The disastrous meeting still grated. They had spoken to her as if she was a trained carrier pigeon sent only to deliver mail between the infighters, a person of little consequence with not a brain in her head, rather than someone sent with important operational information that she had translated and would be pertinent in the coming months of invasion.

“Ridiculous men,” she grumbled. Of the two sexes, they were far more enamored with their own importance and Felicity had very little patience for it.

On the days they left her feeling more like a punching bag than an intelligence asset, she had to remind herself that she was doing good work, important work. Work that she needed to do because others were not capable of doing it. Work that they had sought her out to complete.

I am important. 

The blinking lights of the Ritz shimmered as she turned the corner, and Felicity could feel the irritation and frustration begin to subside. Sight of the opulent hotel meant she wasn’t far from the rooms the agency kept down a shadowed side street and for a few blissful hours she’d be able to forget about the insanity and egos that came with war. And, if she couldn’t forget it, she’d at least be able to drown it in whatever cheap liquor the last inhabitants of the rooms had left.

A cacophony of shouting carried above the London street and her attention was drawn to the hotel’s main doors as a collection of soldiers tumbled through them.

While not the first men in uniform she’d seen tossed from the Ritz, it certainly was the most at any one time. In the dim light, it was hard to make out their insignia, but they were British by the sounds of it.

Speaking of ridiculous men…

Not wanting to get caught up in the chaos of what she could only assume was a drunk regiment on leave, Felicity made a move to cross to the other side of the street, her attention distracted as she searched for her keys. Unaware of the movement ahead of her, she ran headlong into someone, scattering the contents of her purse along the pavement.

She cursed under her breath, irritated with the bodies that continued to congregate, unaware or uncaring of the coming and goings of those around them. She didn’t bother to look up at the man she’d run into as she bent down to collect her things. 

“I am so sorry, I was just getting ready to cross and wasn’t watching-.”

“Felicity?”

Whatever excuse she had been ready with promptly left her as shock and unease coiled in her stomach at the sound of her name on the soldier’s lips.

There was only one she knew with that accent. Of all the regiments stationed in London, of all the men of her acquaintance that could have come out of the Ritz, it was the one from Cairo.

Felicity peered up at him as she finished collecting the last of her belongings, his eyes unreadable against the bright backdrop. Silence settled, both determining the next best move to make, months of things unsaid hanging in the air between them. 

Her gaze swooped over him as she rose. He appeared the same for the most part, though there was the unmistakable look of a man that has been to war about him. The hollows of his cheeks were a little deeper, the purpling around his eyes perhaps more pronounced than she remembered. He looked tired, physically and mentally, and something inside her ached.

He wasn’t the same man she’d left in Cairo.

“Pat,” she said, hitting him with the warmest smile she could muster, but before she could get a word out, he took hold of her upper arm and moved them away from the collecting group of men.

“What are you doing here?”

She arched a brow, put off by the tone in his voice. Not even a half hearted ‘nice to see you’ or a ‘surprise seeing you here’, just straight to the heart of it.

She resisted the urge to yank her arm from his grip.

He must have been able to sense her irritation because he released her arm and shoved it into the pocket of his jacket but made no attempt to reword his question. He simply stared at her, expecting her to explain.

Uncomfortable with his scrutiny, Felicity brushed a speck of invisible dirt from her coat. “I am working in Woodstock. I had to come into London for a meeting.”

“Woodstock?” Pat’s eyes narrowed as he seemed to flip through a reel of information, connecting the dots on some imaginary board in his mind.

Upon his realization, his lips formed a thin line as he bit out, “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

“Calm down,” she snapped, gaze searching over his shoulder to the soldiers who didn’t seem to notice his outburst. “It is not as dramatic as you are assuming.” She took a breath, once again glancing about to ensure they had not attracted unwanted attention. “I am doing translation work.”

Mostly, but it did not seem wise to borrow more trouble so she left it at that. 

The idea that she wasn’t in the field, nor involved in something more clandestine, seemed to settle him a little. She knew where Pat’s mind had gone when he’d made the connection and knew what the imagined implications of it meant in regards to their relations in Cairo.  

His immediate concerns no longer a worry, the tension that had taken him receded by a fraction. “When?” he asked.

“When, what?”

“When did you,” he hesitated for a moment, “move back to England.”

“March.”

Rather than look right at him, Felicity watched the passing traffic. She’d known her flight date that last night they’d seen each other, and, if he had looked around her room with any scrutiny, he would have seen the bag. She hadn’t said a word, though, had acted as if it was just another night, and she knew if she looked at him, she would see the realization in his eyes, and possibly the hurt.

She didn’t think she could handle the hurt.

“A gentleman my father knew stopped by the museum when he was in Cairo from time to time,” she said, trying to justify… well, everything. “And I assisted in some translation work for him, off record of course.”

Their gazes finally did meet, and Pat looked at her skeptically. Nothing with MI-5 or any other intelligence agency was off record.

“When it looked like Africa was going to be secured,” she continued, refusing to give him the acknowledgment of what she also knew to be true, “he asked if I wanted to help in a more official capacity. It seems my father’s instance for certain academic skills has proven useful.”

“Last I knew, you said you had no interest in joining.”

Felicity didn’t miss the skepticism that laced his words.

“I never said I wasn’t interested in joining the cause,” she said defensively, “just that I wasn’t interested in saluting to a man who knew less than I did.” His lips quirked as she continued. “Luckily for me, no one in Blenheim requires salutes, at least from me, so it seems to be a good fit for the moment.”

Distantly, a car honked and a ways down another group of men loudly stumbled in their direction. More soldiers on leave she assumed. Their last hurrah before the inevitable.

“I looked for you,” he admitted, the words almost inaudible over the ruckus around them. “The next time I went into Cairo, I stopped by. Your roommate said you’d left the city, but didn’t know where you’d gone.”

She knew; Winnie had written to her almost immediately. God bless that woman for keeping secrets. Her roommate may have brought home every stray from the streets of Cairo, but she was as loyal as the day was long and would have never given up what Felicity told her, no matter what charms the American had tried.

Felicity had thought it best to make a clean break from him, given the situation he’d be going into and her unknown future with her move. It had seemed to be the simplest option, and the decision had paid off until this very moment.

She shuffled her feet, uncomfortable with the words left unsaid. She hadn’t expected him to care. A part of her didn’t want him to.

“I thought it was best that… well you know how…” she gestured vaguely, at a loss of any sort of acceptable excuse.

There wasn’t one, she knew. It’d been a shit thing to do, but there was no taking it back now.

Pat shifted away from her as a loud, mustached soldier hollered incoherently at the passing group of men, and for a moment Felicity thought that was the end of their conversation. It would have probably been for the best, given that she had just admitted running out on him purposely, but he didn’t make a move to leave, simply watched the commotion for a moment.

“I should thank you for those Italian lessons you insisted on,” he finally said, turning back to watch her. “They ended up coming in handy.”

Felicity blushed. While the Italian lessons had started for practical reasons, the longer they had carried them on, the more they had felt like a farce. He’d certainly been an eager student, but at their last lesson he’d only uttered a few phrases, and they weren’t ones a person used in securing important military assets and locations.

A jealous twinge churned in her stomach at the thought and she tried to tamp it down. She had no right to that emotion.

“I’m glad they came in handy,” she said flippantly, “had I known you were headed for Italy, I guess I would have insisted on less distractions.”

There was a flicker of a sly, almost mischievous smile on his lips before it disappeared into the darkness once more, and Felicity imagined his mind went to the same place hers had and her blush only deepened.

She cleared her throat, eyes jumping to the hotel, too embarrassed to look at him. “I guess I’ll have to admit, then, that I ended up keeping tabs on your advance through Italy.”

“Worried I’d go and get myself killed?” He drawled.

It had crossed her mind only dozens of times since she’d met him and only once she had left Cairo had she been able to set it to the back of her thoughts.

Until they’d been dumped into Italy, at least.

“I had tried not to keep tabs on SAS. Didn’t want to know that very thing, but after you took Bagnara, the Axis communications blew up and I was assigned.” Truthfully, she had felt a moment of pride for the men then, for him especially, as she translated the intercepted hysterics of their eminimes. She had been glad to see success in spite of the absolute insanity she knew they reveled in. “I’m glad you made it through.”

Her words softened the harsh lines in his face and for a moment she saw a glimpse of the man from the earlier days, from the before times when SAS was just finding its wings and the weight of what was to come wasn’t such a burden on his shoulders.

“Riley!” A large man called from the truck that idled just beyond.

Pat waved, but his gaze didn’t leave hers. Finally, he mumbled, “I’ve got to-”

“Of course,” she interrupted. “I should get going as well. Train out is bright and early.”

He looked as if he wanted to say something else but when he just stood there, seemingly lost in his own thoughts, Felicity stepped in and kissed his cheek. “It was good to see you Pat.” 

She moved just far enough away to study his face as she gave his hand a squeeze before dropping it back to her side. SAS was not going to have an easy time moving forward, not that the past had been a walk in the park, but she knew that what was coming from France would be the worst yet. 

She hoped this wouldn’t be the last time she saw him, but she was not foolish enough to believe it. 

“If you find yourself in a writing mood, Ludlow Street. Apartment 5B. My aunt will make sure I get it.”

He nodded and the corners of his mouth lifted in a half there smile. “I imagine you’ll know where I am headed before I even know where I am so…” the words hung there in invitation, and she returned the gesture.

“Take care of yourself,” Felicity reached up and fixed a lock of dark hair that fell across his forehead. “And if you make it to Paris, snag me a good bottle of wine. Maybe we can share it someday.”

Without another word she stepped away and continued towards the far end of the block, not daring to look back and watch him load up and drive away.

[unbeatable-champ]

They've definitely kept me going. And I get that. I had a good childhood, loving parents, relatively stable situation, all that, but there's definitely parts that I still struggle with. Though, a lot of that I've had to learn to grow past. As long as you're happy where you are. I'd say that's all that you can hope for, really.

Oh, certainly. It's all of that nonsense that I can't bare. Nothing can ever be taken at face value, there's always some sort of hidden agenda.... or maybe I'm just speaking my mind, and not thinking about it? Everything I say I've got to make sure is just right. There's been so many times I wish I could just tell all of them to sod off. That'd be rude though, of course, so I can't be doing that. (Goodness, that's fair. I wouldn't be surprised if there was a whole section about me beeing piss poor at directions on mine... wouldn't that be embarrassing?)

Ah- not the only one, just the only out of my little group of friends. Wyndon's a rather large city, actually. The Chairman helped do a lot of replanning and renovations around Wyndon, back when he first started getting active in those spheres. The population just skyrocketed after that. It still does feel awful lonely, though. I'm from an Itty town in the south, I'm used to greeting your neighbours with a smile and a "Good Morning, Mrs. Thompson, how have you been getting on?" There's none of that here. It took a lot of getting used too, when I first moved. Oh, I love to talk. There's something to be taken away from every conversation you have. I'm glad that I've done a good thing for you as well, haha! :-)

Im glad you're making that jump. It's odd how even a little bit of encouragement can be all you need to go for it, innit? I could probably stand to take my own advice more, honestly. But alas, my own situation is a bit complicated, itself. No point buggering on about it, though. I'd just make myself go silly in the head for it. No matter. I hope it goes well! You've been absolutely lovely to talk too, so I can't imagine it wouldn't.

It gives the Leaders a handy break for most of the year, other than Exhibition Matches. A bit of rest and recovery before we're to go all-out. I'll admit that I don't ever go on much of a holiday, but I do know plenty of them do. It's rather convenient, not having to worry about the Gym whilst you're gone, so I've heard. As for world-ending plots...we haven't had anything to that level here, thank goodness. At least not for a few hundred years or so. The most scandalous thing that's happened recently was when Champion Peony quit the League. That was a big deal for a while. Chairman Rose had done a few interviews, but I know Champion Peony rather refused to speak about it. The whole thing was messy, to put it lightly. I really do hope that no world-ending tragedies start poopping up here. Though goodness knows I'd never have a bunch of children go handle it.

Oh yeah wait you're too old to know what inkay games is my bad

Oh, please, I’m only twenty-three.

[ he’s not old. don’t make that mistake again. ]

—💎

[strixcattus]

The upcoming arc in my D&D campaign involves the PCs meeting the ENTIRE NOBILITY OF THEIR COUNTRY including not only every royal family in full but also an entourage of knights and one priest from each region and even though most will no doubt be background characters I have no real guarantee who will or will not be spoken to so they all need at least a name, race, class (for the knights), appearance, age, and rudimentary personality just in case I need to involve them in a conversation

And given I'm still only at the point of having names, ages, and basic descriptions for the noble families themselves—which is to say I'm pretty much where I was when I started except they're all written in the "characters" section of my planning document instead of just the "miscellaneous—Nokobia—leadership" section—I frankly have to admit this:

I have a significant amount more respect for the author of Bleach right now. Twenty-six-plus characters being introduced in a single arc didn't seem particularly impressive until I found myself on the other side of it all.

[harmonicabisexuals]

the price for experiencing the absolute masterpiece of house md 6.01-6.02 feat. andre braugher, franka potente, and hugh laurie’s soulful blue eyed microexpression acting is having to watch lin manuel miranda rap