#fabrice caro

[des-paroles]

Fabrice Caro, Samouraï

[woso-dreamzzz]

Shirt Swap II

Hardersson x Child!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: You get a package

When you and Momma get home from the park, there's a package outside of your door.

You scamper up the front steps and kick at it.

Momma sighs. "Princesse, what have I told you about kicking boxes?"

"Not to," You huff," Because they might be fragile. But! But, it's got my name on it! Is it stuff for the new house?"

Momma and Morsa have been busy packing a lot lately. They say it's because you're going back to Germany and they're getting stuff ready for the new house.

They've got the World Cup first though so the summer is going to be very stressful and busy, which is why they're packing everything now.

"If it was stuff for the new house," Momma says fondly as she picks up the package and opens the front door," Then it wouldn't be addressed to you."

"But it is for me!" You insist, pointing at the label," See, it's got my name!"

It has got your name but it's also got a bunch of other labels on it too.

Momma gets a box cutter and opens it. "It looks like it's come from abroad," She says, cutting through the layers of tape and pulling the flaps up.

"Ooh," You say, kneeling by the coffee table as you peak inside.

There's a little letter at the very top but you're more interested in the many jerseys underneath it.

You grab at them, pulling each out carefully. You recognise a lot of them as Barcelona jerseys - the blue and red design recognisable easily.

Momma reads the letter as you go through them.

Most of them are Barcelona shirts like you thought but there's a white shirt too with blue accents and the crest of three lions on it.

"Momma!" You gasp as you hold it between your hands," It's a Keira Walsh shirt! Momma, look!"

You hold it up triumphantly, a look of complete awe on your face.

Momma's smiling at you. "I can see that," She says, waving the letter at your face," It's signed too. Have you noticed?"

You hadn't at first but, as you look at your little pile, you notice that all of them are signed.

"Wow."

"They're from Aitana," Momma says as she reads you bits of the letter," She hopes that you're doing well and she's sorry that it took so long. Please enjoy the collection of club and national team jerseys she's gotten from her teammates."

You take little time to think before you're tearing through the box again, throwing jerseys around as you dig through it.

You've got two Keira Walsh jerseys - her England one and her Barcelona one.

You've got another Caro one too, her Norway shirt this time instead of an old Wolfsburg one. You get an Engen shirt too. You vaguely recall Engen in your memory, at your last year at Wolfsburg with her and Auntie Frido (who had also encased just her Barcelona jersey because you had so many of her Swedish ones).

You brush your fingers over the fabric of the red Caro and Ingrid Norway shirts. It's red. You like red. It's not quite Arsenal red but red is red and you think the Norway shirts are really cool.

You tell as much to Momma.

She laughs. "You know, technically, my Denmark jerseys are red too."

You roll your eyes. "They're red-pink," You tell her," This is proper red. Not Arsenal proper red but still more red than red-pink."

You close off that line of argument by digging through the box again. You stop at a Barcelona shirt. You run your finger over the number eleven on the back and the name too.

You're very good at reading in all four of your languages so you spell it out quickly.

"A-lex-ia," You sound out slowly," Alexia." You frown. You think you've met someone called Alexia a few times before but never someone with a surname like that. "That's a weird last name."

Momma laughs again. "It's her first name, princesse. Sometimes, when you get very good and very famous, you get to put just your first name on your shirt."

You think about your keeper gloves, hanging out on your desk. You haven't packed them yet, not when you still have time to go to practice with Zećira and Ann-Katrin.

You look back at the shirt in your hands.

"I want to have my first name on my jerseys," You say softly, not exactly to Momma but you know that she can hear you," I want to be really good like that someday too."

Pernille smiles at you, not saying anything as your stare down at Putellas' jersey with a little crinkle in your brow. You keep looking at it for a moment longer, completely in awe at the singular first name on it before grasping for your England Keira Walsh shirt.

Momma helps you put it on just as the front door opens again.

Morsa appears in the doorway, hopping on one foot as she lifts the other in the air to take off her shoe. She looks at the carnage with one brow raised.

"Did a bomb go off?" She jokes," I don't remember ordering any new jerseys."

"Aitana Bonmatí sent them," Momma replies," Remember, I told you that we met her during the friendly against Spain? She was quite taken with our princesse." She pulls the jersey over your head. "So much so that she rounded up enough jerseys for maybe two extra teams."

"I've got two Keira Walsh jerseys, Morsa!" You exclaim excitedly. "And-And Caro and Ingrid's red Norway jerseys! They're so cool! Norway's so cool!"

Morsa looks a bit horrified at that. It seems that she can take you wearing Denmark jerseys but a line has definitely been crossed when you start chattering on about how cool Norway is.

"Alright," Morsa cuts you off right before you launch into a tirade about how cool Caro's dribbling skills are," Well, you've got new jerseys. So, what does that mean?"

You gasp. It completely skipped your mind and you scamper over to the hallway wall to stand against it, smiling proudly as Morsa snaps a picture of you wearing every new jersey Aitana sent you.

"Alright," Momma says once she's helped you back into your Keira Walsh England shirt," Now, Aitana also attached her number so how about we send her a little video?"

You grin at the camera, little fingers tugging at the hem of your shirt. "Thank you, Aitana!"

"For?"

"For my new jerseys! Thank you!"

[seeminglydark]

i recently have started using my collection of patches, spare fabric, and studs to customize one of my bags that i’ll use for college and to create my first battle jacket and patch pants. It got me thinking of what John’s first seeing adventures looked like and unfinished or scraped projects that he had.

Oh that sounds so much fun! Best of luck on customizing your stuff! I bet it will look awesome!

Johns first sewing adventures were definitely when he was a teenager, I think it started because he needed to mend his clothes, he didn't get new ones very often because his dads a neglectful jerk, so he had to make what he had last, so it was a lot of really bad stitches and diy. I didnt draw them cuz, just trust me they were bad. He finally gave up and went to ask the Home Economics teacher for some tips (we will pretend thats still a thing) and was taught basic stitches and repair. As a teenager he wasn't as shy or introverted as he is an an adult, so most of his skill was learned by asking around. He started helping Caro hem their too long pants, and his other friends sew on their patches and mend too. Taking his time and making the stitching look good by hand became kinda of therapeutic for him.

As an adult he still likes to customize and sew and mend. Eventually he works up the nerve to go to the library and sit in the room and watch intently at the sewing guild and try to pick up what they were doing, but much like punks, groups of crafty old ladies will often pull you in if they sense interest in something. If you look at some of my past art of his battle jacket, you can see hes embroidered and cross -stitched on it, and of course still make his own patches. He has some unfinished quilt tops lying around, he doesnt actually make actual clothes very often but does diy and customize everything he gets his hands on. These days hes even the one who screenprints the Brew shirts for the coffee shop <3

[ghostchems]

if you're taking nsfw drabble requests bghjdsl um. throws terzo/fem reader cockwarming in here

nsfw! mdni! about 1k words. ehhhh we got some confessional cockwarming!!

You’re not sure why you’re the one who’s being punished — but you know better than to argue with Papa. In fact, this predicament you’ve found yourself in is *salacious,* nestled underneath his chasuble between his knees with his velvety cock in your mouth. You focus on staying completely still though your knees are starting to grow sore from kneeling for so long. Terzo wants you here for the entirety of confession, until every last sibling has had their time to share their sins with him. It’s been infuriating to hear him coo over every single one of them, to have them giggle and flirt back through the partition. Then, you start to remember where you are and what you’re doing. The tension in your body shifts down to your core, your muscles tightening in your lower abdomen, thighs squeezing.

“I’ve fantasized about being with you, Papa. You bring out the most delicious lust in me.” The breathy voice from other other side of the partition sends a current through you as Terzo’s cock twitches with interest. His hands slithers down his robes, sharp nails bunching the fabric above his thighs. You stifle a groan and try to loosen your jaw to accommodate the way he blossoms in your mouth.

“It is a privilege to inspire such thoughts in His name.” He answers cooly, dragging his robes until you’re free from beneath them. Your eyes flicker up to meet his, despite his pupils being blown and his teeth worrying his bottom lip his expression screams behave. “Go on, tesoro.”

“I think about you during Black Mass. How your voice carries through to the tiniest corner of the sanctuary, how your robe flows with such power.” They speak quicker now, their voice a mere whisper. Your cheeks start to burn. It dawns on you how personal these thoughts are and how you’re intruding on this moment. Before you’re able to think any further, Terzo’s fingers weave into your hair, nails scratching at your scalp. You breathe carefully out of your nose and drag your tongue along his underside, paying extra attention to the spot just below the head. His thighs flex and he sucks in a silent breath, exhaling with an interested hum, almost teasing the sibling to keep going. All while his eyes are locked on you.

“You choose me to assist you in your invocation. I drop my cloak and expose myself to you on the altar.” Husky whispers through the partition. Terzo uses his knees to squeeze your body between his legs to keep you still. You’re stuck, all encompassed by him, nothing but him. He runs his fingers across your scalp with a tender touch. “You use your hands to please me in His Name, on display for the congregation to see.”

“A ritual of passion, eh? I don’t believe we’ve had one of those since Primo.” He’s back to playing Papa and the sibling offers a giggle. “Perhaps I’ll bring this up in our next clergy meeting — now that I know I’ll have a volunteer.” More laughter. “Thank you for your confession, caro. I look forward to hearing more from you. And, ah, would you mind telling those waiting I’m finished for the evening? Grazie.” The sibling giggles some more and utters a quiet goodbye.

They leave, the door clicking shut behind them. Terzo stays completely still other than his throbbing cock on your tongue. The both of you listen closely to their receding footsteps, then some murmurs and louder chatter. As soon as the volume in the room rises he guides your head back down his cock with a desperate groan. You sink all the way down his length, nose meeting his neatly trimmed pubic hairs. His heady, salty taste fills your mouth, the tip hitting the back of your throat and you utter a low hum as you swallow around him. Terzo melts into his chair with a deep growl, spreading his legs further for you, finally able to enjoy himself.

“You are… ah, so good for your papa. Brava ragazza.” He rasps and tightens his grip on your hair. Your tongue swirls around his length and you bob your head at a more steady pace, one hand pressed to his thigh while you curl your other fingers around his base. Terzo moans, running a hand over his face and arching his back with a huff. “I love the way you look with my cock in your mouth. Bravissima.” You whine and suck a sharp breath in through your nose, jolts of arousal spreading through you. You start to stroke his cock in time with each bob of your head, dark eyes flitting up to meet his. He hisses and bares his teeth, hips giving one last jerk as he spills down your throat.

You sit back on your knees and use one of your sleeves to wipe your swollen, wet lips. Terzo’s gaze is hazy but he never looks away from you, a sleepy smile plastered across his face as he quietly catches his breath. He’s wrecked — his pants still around his ankles, robes bunched at his hip and hair tousled — and you’ve never seen him look so beautiful.

“Vieni qui.” Terzo reaches a gloved hand out to you and you take it, wobbling to your feet. His arm sweeps underneath your ass, pulling you into his lap. Your heart pounds in your ears, feeling equal parts anxious and excited — he’s never shown such affection after. Your chest presses to his, chin resting on his shoulder as he curls his arms around you. “I like being with you, tesoro. I wouldn’t want anyone else in here with me.” A confession. Much different than the usual teasing and poking. You lift your head just as his hand cradles your cheek, stroking it with his thumb but still gives you a small prick with the tip of his nail.

He gives you a warm smile and you feel alive.

send me a request!

[iveraines]

i just wanna thank everyone for all the love on my V cosplay. it was a tough build, and is still in progress/reworks. i intend on making her prom dress, maid dress, and camp uniform.

long ass post ahead detailing progress, so hold onto your socks!

📸 by my bestie caro :)

the closer to completed i got with the parts, the more and more every little thing went wrong. i need to rework/repair a LOT before i enter her in any competitions. i also intend on building her wings. may post progress updates

for the EVA foam arms, i made them too long (and still need to trim them more) and was unable to use my arms at all. i had to ask my girlfriend to hold and manage all my stuff at the convention. :,) they’re also gritty as hell, because i had to make them outside and the wind kept blowing them off the work area while the paint was wet. the paint messed up a lot and had to be re-done several times.

as for the mask, similar to the arms. the paint gave me hell and i had to trim it down multiple times. i also lost it to a gust of wind at the convention! i was EXTREMELY lucky that my bestie was able to spot it in a road median the next day.

originally, the tail was going to have LED’s in it similarly to the headband. however, the electronics kept breaking. no matter how much i fiddled with it and attempted to re-solder it, it would not work. at one point, the line suspending the tail snapped. that was an insane repair on the con floor.

i was hoping to have the dress done fast, as i have most of the parts pinned and ready to sew but the machine does not like the stretchy fabric. at all.

even though i measured a gajillion times, the stockings did not end up as long as i would have liked them. the painting on them is unfinished too, and was all done the two nights before con. i actually ended up passing out while working them because of how much i overworked myself with school and con crunch!

as a last-second improvise, i whip-stitched some fur on a thrifted top!

i was originally going to do the fingers on the glove with foam, but the parts all peeled and ripped, so i just painted it instead. one of the fingers on the glove even almost came off.

[thebirdandthebee]

Mighty Fine (18+)

Just a little slump-buster ft. our favorite aviator. Taking requests for TGM and The Bear in my inbox. Smut ahead. Painfully pining Rooster. 18+ only! This is not edited, so please excuse any glaring issues.

Title: Mighty Fine Caroline, see, Caroline - all the guys would say she's mighty fine WC: 3716

The Hard Deck was not in a poor financial state – in fact, since Penny took it over five years ago, she’d done better business than the establishment had ever logged.

Sure, some positive changes, listening to customer feedback and stocking just the right kind of beer helped. But Penny knew that for the past year, there was specifically one woman who helped bump sales big time.

And tonight, a Friday night ahead of the fourth of July, Penny knew they’d hit record numbers.

The leggy brunette flitted about the full bar – packed asses to elbows – with a smile that held a secret and lashes longer than a summer afternoon.

Caroline was all perfume and warm skin. A promise of what could be behind a beauty mark and cherry gloss.

Tonight she’d tucked her white tank into a pair of cutoff shorts and knotted an American flat bandanna around her neck, the tip of the triangle teasing her cleavage. The low-slung cowgirl boots did nothing to interrupt the long lines of her legs and she trusted them with each pivot she needed to make through the crowd.

When her attention landed on you, it felt like you were the only person in the room. She knew how to work a crowd. A small gallery assembled to watch her re-stock the tray of cherries – one of her favorite snacks throughout the night.

“Caro, sweetheart,” Penny called, topping of a lager pour.

“Penny, my love,” Caroline countered, popping the tabs on three ciders.

“Can you let me these men live for one night?” Her boss teased, nipping at the fabric around her employee’s neck.

“I can’t show my love for America the beautiful?” Caroline replied with a wink. Penny laughed with a shake of her head.

Caroline had started at the Hard Deck last summer, asking for a few weekend shifts – the ones no one else wanted to take in order to enjoy their own weekends – since her classes for UCSD ran from Tuesday through Thursday.

“Rent’s due this week, Pen!” Caroline called as she ducked under the counter, greeting her adoring audience as she head to the stockroom to grab a crate of Sam Adams.

Rooster entered the bar that night with his hopes high and his buddies trailing close behind.

He’d had his sights set on Caroline for months. A squeezed shoulder here, a bat at his biceps there and he was hooked. Sometimes he felt like a cartoon, floating behind her like a cherry pie on its way to cool in the open window.

“Oh Rooster, you’re so fucked,” Fanboy commented, catching sight of the brunette wonder first. She was pouring a line of shots across the bar top, handing them out to a group of sailors who wished she was their treat instead. Taking a clear glass for herself, they all clanked their shots before tossing them back.

Penny didn’t mind if Caroline drank on the job – she was a grown woman who knew her limits who could always use working as an excuse to get out of it.

“Here’s trouble,” Caroline announced, “G&T, Fanboy?” She asked as they saddled up to the bar – their first stop before heading back to the darts.

“Please,” Fanboy grinned, basking in the glow of her attention.

“A rum and Coke for Coyote, Hefeweizen for Phoenix and porter for my Rooster,” she listed off, gathering glasses and stationing herself over the beer taps. “That sound right?” She asked with a tilt of her head, locking eyes with Bradley.

“Perfect as always,” he replied, his honey brown eyes melting into hearts.

“Ladies first,” Caroline simpered, handing Phoenix her beer, “then, we go in order of beauty,” she added. “Fanboy,” she passed over the gin and tonic, “Coyote,” she listed next, giving his rum and Coke a swish, “and, last, but certainly not least, Rooster,” she pulled the tap of the porter, leaving just the perfect thin band of foam at the top.

“You trying to break my heart?” Bradley asked, leaning over the bar, willing her to lean in closer.

“I gotta keep you humble, Rooster,” she replied, pushing his glass toward him, “because I know they don’t call you that due to the size of your ego,” she said, turning on a heel to attend to the other side of the bar while Jimmy grabbed the trash to bring out back. Though she tossed a wink over her shoulder that made his upper lip tremble beneath his mustache.

“When you going to let me buy you a drink?” He called out, voice nearly blending in with the buzz of the bar. She shook her head with a laugh, focusing on the task at hand, but they both knew she heard him.

Rooster joined his friends back at the darts. The Fourth of July weekend was guaranteed chaos at the ‘Deck – not too unlike Homecoming weekend at UVA. Bradley loved the liveliness of it all. However, it meant that Caroline’s attention was pulled every which way except his.

“I just think if I could get her alone for 10 minutes…” he said, eyeing her hopefully as she moved about the establishment.

“Rooster, give it up, she’s way out of your league and half the bar in here is hoping she’ll go home with them tonight,” Coyote said honestly.

“You’ve been drooling over her for months,” Fanboy agreed, “it’s getting pretty pathetic.”

But Rooster was more confident than ever. He knew they’d be great together – he just had to show her.

A little time passed, they took up a game of darts and after not too long, Caroline found herself making a sweep for empty glasses.

“Another, Phee?” She asked Phoenix, who nodded with a smile.

“We’ll do another round,” Coyote supplied. Caroline stacked up empty glasses, swinging around the space, aware of Rooster’s eyes on her as he leaned against the side rail that ran the length of the back wall.

“Grab your glass?” She asked, matching his posture against the drink rail, her open hand effortlessly clasping a tower of glass. Rooster pushed his empty toward her, a little downturned twitch of his mustache giving him away. “Why so glum, Rooster? It’s the Fourth of July,” she said, a little pout on her lips that made his stomach flip. “Have to imagine it doesn’t get better than that, huh?”

“What’s it going to take for you to have a drink with me?” He asked. “You know I’m eyein’ you up every time I come in here,” he elaborated.

“Maybe,” Caroline began, “I don’t want to have a drink with you at my place of work?” She suggested lightly. “But if you invited me to Buzzards, your odds would be a lot better,” she shrugged. “Thanks for the glass, Rooster, you can pick up a fresh one in 10.”

Caroline flitted away, making her journey back to the main bar with two tall stacks in her hands, gracefully hip-checking the counter to step inside.

“Maybe you do have a shot after all?” Phoenix asked, raising her brows as she turned back to the game of darts at hand. Bradley’s eyes tracked her as she moved about, pouring beers and mixing cocktails, his eyes zeroing in as she popped a maraschino cherry into her mouth before doing the same to a young, blonde sailor on the other side of the bar.

He wiped the back of his mouth off, crossing the room and heading over to the piano, his first initial plucks of the keys enough to clue a patron in to pull the plug on the juke box.

He cleared his throat as the intro grew stronger and louder, some already recognizing the tune.

“Where it began, I can’t begin to knowing,” he crooned. “But I know it’s growing strong.”

A few cheers rang out.

“Was in the spring, and spring became the summer, who’d have believed you’d come along?”

Caroline’s attention pulled over to the far wall, it now impossible to ignore with half of the bar singing Neil Diamond.

Hands, touching hands Reaching out, touching me, touching you

“Sweet Caroline!” Rooster belted, “good times never seemed so good!”

The crowd sang back, fists being pumped in the air.

So good! So good! So good!

“I’ve been inclined to believe they never would,” he focused his attention back down on his hands, but he could feel the brunette’s stare on the back of his neck.

Caroline shook her head, topping off another drink before grabbing a tall one and making her way through the crowd, which was packed near the piano as he carried on.

One, touching one

“Reaching out, touching me, touching you,” Rooster remained as focused as he could when he felt a paper-light touch travel across his the span of his shoulders, followed by a full beer being set on the top of the piano.

“Okay,” Caroline grinned, “you’ve got my attention,” she said, her arm resting across the top of his back. “So what are you going to do with it now that you have it?”

“The Deck is open until 11 – Buzzards is open till one, meet me there when you’re done?” He asked.

“I’ll be there,” she agreed, running her hand up his spine to squeeze the back of his neck. Rooster could barely keep playing as he nearly twisted his head all the way around to watch her walk away.

Buzzards Bar was different than the Hard Deck – younger, louder, and for Rooster, much less likely to run into his superiors. Sure, lots of sailors and aviators ended up there, but it wasn’t a dedicated bar like their usual haunt. Without the uncertainty hanging over his head, he really loosened up and had fun with his buddies at the Hard Deck, but they didn’t join him a Buzzards, opting to go find some fireworks instead.

It was 11:45 and Caroline hadn’t shown up yet, at least that he could see. He grabbed a round of drinks, another beer for him and a dirty Shirley for Caroline. If nothing else, he knew she loved cherries and this could be a pretty safe assumption.

Keeping a barstool warm near the back, Rooster’s gaze scanned the growing crowd on the dance floor. He could feel the air shift as Caroline approached the table, dressed in her same little outfit, bandanna around her neck like a little pack of goodies he’d like to unwrap. However, an unfamiliar man, who was standing just a bit closer to her than either of them liked, was closely trailing her. He was obviously trying to carry on a conversation with her over the loud bass of the music and she couldn’t be less interested.

Without effort or hiccup, Caroline waltzed right up to Rooster, standing between his legs that were angled outward on either side of his body, his feet on the bar of the stool. She leaned up against him, her elbows on resting on his thighs with her back to his front. Rooster’s arm immediately looped around her body, resting just below her neck, spanning across her chest.

The man immediately got the message and backed off, but she remained snug in his embrace when he walked away.

Caroline tipped her head back to look up at Rooster.

She knew she had a reputation as a flirt. It was silly to be a bartender and not take advantage just a little bit of what God gave her. But she loved Rooster’s attention. He was safe, simple and straightforward. He didn’t play games and treated her with respect.

“Fancy seeing you here,” she smiled, sending the breath rushing from his lungs.

“Happy Fourth,” Rooster said, using his free hand to offer her the cocktail.

“Mm, cherry – how’d you know?” She asked, taking a sip through the small black straw.

“Watchin’,”he replied, missing her warmth already as she put a little space between them, standing with her back to the dance floor.

“You watchin’ me?” She asked innocently enough, elbows on the high-top table. It took everything in him to keep his eyes on her face and not her cleavage that was winning the fight against her little white tank top.

“Hard to look away,” he said, taking a drink of his beer. “Though I think this is the most time you’ve ever spent looking back at me,” he added.

“Then you’re not as observant as you think, aviator,” Caroline said, setting her drink down reaching for his hand, pulling him off the chair and leading him into the throng of bodies. “Because I look at you plenty.”

Rooster was so surprised and exhilarated he wasn’t sure where to put his hands right away as she leaned back into him, moving her body to the beat of the song.

Cause great scenes might be great But I love your bloopers

“Rooster, relax,” Caroline purred as he ducked his head down to be closer to hers – his height difference over her apparent. She reached back, taking his hands in her and placing them on her body – one on her ribs and the other just inside of her hips. “You got me right where you wanted me.”

And perfect's for the urgent Baby I want forever

Caroline’s hands drifted up to cradle the back of his head, her back arching in the slightest. And while Bradley Bradshaw was a man of morals, they were mostly forgotten as he lowered his mouth to Caroline’s neck.

Caroline, don't you see that I want you to be mine?

“You request this one?” Rooster asked, his mustache ticking her in a skin, which immediately went to her nipples, hardening them beneath her tank.

“Just lucky I guess,” she breathed, rolling her head to the side to give him a little more access to her skin.

“I think luck follows you around,” he said.

“It must if you’re here with me,” she replied. Rooster didn’t even justify her comments with an answer. If she thought she was lucky because he was there with her, she wouldn’t begin to comprehend the amount of times he’d dreamt of this moment.

“Rooster?” She asked, threading her fingers through his hair, giving it a little tug as a test. The groan in her ear told her all she needed to know.

“Caroline,” he huffed out an exhale.

“I don’t want the rest of that drink,” she said, looking up to lock eyes with him. “I want you to put me in that big blue truck of yours and take me home.” Rooster felt his heart skip hard enough that it shot him with adrenaline.

“Honey, lead the way,” he replied, sober as a judge.

She’d seen the blue Bronco pull up to the Hard Deck a hundred times – it was as much a calling card of Rooster’s as his mustache or Hawaiian shirts. Now, she was thrilled to be inspecting the inside, her back to Rooster’s side with his arm draped over her shoulder again as she made the most of the bench seating.

Leading Caroline by the hand from the car to the house, she gladly stepped into his bachelor pad.

Rooster was just grateful that Bob was out of town for the weekend.

“Roommate?” She asked, walking along the picture rail in the family room – something Bob put up. It was mostly his stuff, anyway.

“You know Bob?” Bradley asked, tracking her movement as he stepped out of his shoes.

“Bob the sweetheart is your roommate?” She asked, looking over her shoulder, eyes dilating in the slightest as she took in the view. Rooster with his big shoulders, broad chest and handsome face – honey brown eyes focusing entirely in on her.

“Bob the sweetheart?” He asked, a small quirk to his lips.

“Bob the sweetheart, Bob the puppy dog…” she trailed off. “Pen and I have many nicknames for perfect Bob.”

“I think I’ve heard enough about perfect Bob,” Rooster said, advancing her like a predator stalking its prey.

“Want me to tell you what we call you behind your back?” She asked, a glint in her eye as he scooped her up with one arm, holding her tightly to his body as he carried her back to his bedroom.

“What’s that?” He asked.

“We – well, more like just me, because Penny babies you,” she screamed as Rooster gave her ass a hard squeeze. “But I,” she leaned in close, whispering into his ear, “I call you Oh My God Rooster,” she giggled, tracing the shell of his ear with her tongue. “Want to know why?” She asked.

“Tell me,” he said, kicking in his bedroom door.

“Because I always knew one day you’d make me say,” she fisted his shirt in her hands and tossed her head back, “Oh my God, Rooster!” She moaned, quickly gasping as he dropped her on his unmade bed.

“That shit isn’t fair,” he pointed an accusatory finger down at her before reaching for the fly on his shorts.

“Why not?” Caroline asked with a tilt of her head as she leaned back on her elbows.

“Because ever since you started at the Hard Deck, you haven’t given me the time of day,” he crawled over her on the bed, sealing his mouth over hers.

“I was avoiding you, I’ll admit,” she smirked, hips lifting as he began to pull her shorts off. “I knew as soon as this happened,” she paused, lifting his chin up to kiss her once more, “there’d be no going back.”

“You didn’t want to be my friend?” He asked, running his nose down her jawline as he reached behind her, pulling off her tank.

“Oh Rooster, we’re going to be much more than friends,” she purred, unhooking her bra. She reached for her little bandanna, but he stopped her.

“Leave it on, cowgirl,” he said, licking his lips. Stunned, he found himself down on the mattress, Caroline swinging a leg over his body to land gracefully on his hips. She pulled her bra down her arms and tossed it somewhere into the darkness – Bradley’s bedroom illuminated by the bright light of the moon through his window. He thought his tongue might roll out of his mouth like a yoyo.

“Does that make you my bucking bronco?” She giggled, reaching behind her to give his erection a quick, firm pump.

“Jesus,” he hissed, all the air leaving his lungs at once.

“Just Caroline,” she grinned maliciously.

“Why don’t you get up here and let me find out how sweet you are, Caroline,” he cajoled, tipping his chin up. The brunette threaded her fingers through his hair as she settled over his mouth, a long, low moan drawn from her lips as he licked a broad, flat swipe up the seam of her sex. Rooster’s hands slid around her sides and up to her lower back holding her body tight against his face.

“You’re never allowed to shave that mustache,” Caroline panted, followed by a high-pitched whine as she felt his whiskers against her clit. “Right there,” she mewled.

Rooster was a generous lover and apparently had a voracious appetite.

“Jesus Christ, Rooster,” she shivered as one of his thick fingers teased her entrance, circling her slowly as his lips cradled her clit. She could feel each and every one of his taste buds against her. “Roo, please,” she panted, “I want your cock.”

Bradley lifted her, a squeal on her lips as she landed back down on his abs. She couldn’t help but smile broadly at his wet mouth.

“If you smile at me like that again, I’m going to fucking marry you, Caroline,” he threatened, absolutely captivated by her.

She untied the bandanna from her neck, reaching down to cover his eyes and tie it loosely behind his head.

“Then don’t look, because I think I’m going to enjoy this a lot,” she said, smiling just the same as she lined up his cock and slowly sank down on it.

“You’re amazing,” Rooster crowed, “God you feel so good,” he said, hands resting on her soft thighs.

“You’re big,” she huffed, “like shit, Rooster, how do you have such good posture?” She asked, making him bark out a laugh. She settled herself all the way down and squeezed him on an upswing, making his abs flex as he tried to keep from busting immediately.

Leaning down, while still riding him smoothly, she pressed a kiss to his scarred cheek, tracing the line there with her tongue. He jumped as she dragged her teeth against his jawline, biting him gently while rolling his balls in her palm.

“Caroline,” he sounded worried, “I-fwa,” he lost his words as she did it again.

“Want me to stop?” She asked innocently enough.

“Don’t you dare,” he grunted while she tweaked his nipple.

“I can see it now,” she giggled, the action sending a ripple of pleasure down his spine. “C-a-r-o-l-i-n-e,” she twirled a finger across his pec.

“I’ll go tomorrow,” he promised, a sweat breaking out across his brow.  He could feel her fingernails just grazing his happy trail as Caroline circled her clit, wanting to meet him at his level.

“Rooster?” She asked, and he could hear the breathlessness in her voice.

“Caroline?” He countered, his face screwed up in conversation.

“Cum,” she commanded, finding her own euphoria, setting him off just moments later, thrusting up into her as he rode out his orgasm. Caroline grinned, pushing off his blindfold to reveal his beautiful face again. “Hi gorgeous,” she greeted, a lazy, satisfied smile on her face.

“What did I tell you about that smile?” He groaned, palming her ass in his hands.

“I know the consequences of my actions,” she sighed dreamily. Climbing off of Rooster, she wandered her way into the bathroom, cleaning up and grabbing the T-shirt that was slung over the bathroom door before pulling it on.

Rooster was sure he was delirious as she joined him back in the bed, hiking a leg over his hip and throwing his comforter over both of them.

“Rooster?” She asked, sparing a glance over at his alarm clock, which was flashing nearly two in the morning.

“Caro-line,” he sang back.

“I want my eggs scrambled in the morning,” she said, eyes closing gently as she curled up on his chest.

“Yeah? And what would you like to eat?” 

[imprincipalweemspet]

Under the desk

Hello! This is my first time writing something so please don’t be so mean to me. English is not my first language, so I apologize for any mistakes.

Warning: NSFW, 18+, Smut, Oral Sex, Fingerfucking.

Enjoy! 😘

You could only hear the dull pounding of your racing heart in your ears, you were on your knees with your neck slightly bent in the dim darkness under the desk waiting patiently for Larissa.

Your train of thought is interrupted when you hear the faint voices of the students, indicating that classes have started.

Entonces escuchas la puerta de la oficina abrirse y cerrarse.

El sonido de sus caros tacones resuena por todo el lugar.

Ves como la silla de cuero se quita del escritorio, lo que te da una vista de la mitad inferior de su cuerpo. Te aprietas contra el soporte del escritorio para no delatar tu presencia.

The desk was big enough that her shapely legs weren't touching you.

She texts you, thinking you were at work. You innocently text him back.

She suddenly crosses her legs exposing the soft skin of her thighs, which were wrapped in a pair of cream-colored stockings that trailed up her legs and ended at the middle of her thick thighs.

You reach out tentatively and touch her ankle with your fingertips.

Larissa gives a small jump in surprise, rolling her chair back.

She tilts her head to look under the desk, fixing her gaze on yours.

Her blond eyebrows rose in surprise to find you under the writing, you gave her a mischievous smile and your hands resumed their place caressing her ankles, dissipating Larissa's tension.

She pulled her chair closer to receive more of your caresses.

Your hands slowly run up her calves, kneading and squeezing her thick legs.

Her legs open slowly giving you more access, your hands moving higher under the hem of her elegant dress and over the top of her stockings, making contact with the softness of her bare skin.

She rolls her chair closer to the desk as she feels the touch of your cool hand on her warm skin, your firm grip on her milky thighs, lifting her dress over her hips to reveal the tops of her stockings and panties.

There was enough light to see her burgundy lace panties covering her beautiful pussy, which was stained dark from her arousal.

Your hands rest on the outside of her thighs pulling her closer to you.

You started by spreading little feather kisses on her knees, slowly moving up her legs.

She can feel your warm breath on the inside of her thighs.

The smell of her sex is driving you crazy, your pussy was soaked and your clit was throbbing, but that didn’t matter, you just wanted to worship your goddess.

Your mouth slowly approaches the target. Her body jerks as she feels your warm breath come in contact with the sodden fabric of her underwear.

You cover her pussy with your mouth, press your wet tongue over her lips, savoring her salty sweetness.

Her hand slid under the desk, tangling her long, slender fingers in your hair, pushing her needy cunt into your mouth.

You tilt your head back a little to admire your work of art, the sodden fabric of her panties clinging to her swollen pussy lips, her erect clit pressing proudly against the wet fabric of her panties.

She removes her hand from your head and pulls the underwear aside exposing her pussy, her lips wet and sticky from her arousal and your saliva.

You crane your neck and your wet tongue slides carefully between her folds, lapping up the hot moisture before finding her swollen clit.

She leans back in her leather chair arching her back and forcing her pussy against your face.

You slowly slide your tongue down the hole of her pussy, inserting your tongue as far as it will go, deliberately rubbing your nose over her clit.

You move your head up and down, savoring the delicious taste of her pussy.

Your tongue alternates between its entrance to her clit, over and over again, eagerly drinking the juices of her dripping pussy.

You feel her legs contract, her hand returns to your head yanking roughly at your hair, you gasp for air as you are stimulated by the sensation of the other woman’s fingers tangling in your hair.

Her thighs tighten around your head, bucking her hips desperately painting your face with her luscious fluids. Your lips close around her clit, licking her eagerly.

You slide your middle and ring fingers deep into the wet velvet of Larissa’s pussy. Using your thumb to rub circles around her clit accompanying the thrusts of your fingers.

Her hips rocked up and down uncontrollably, riding your fingers, you increased the speed of your thrusts by adding a third finger driving her wild with desire.

Larissa was so wet you could hear the wet sound of your fingers working between her thighs.

Her juices gush onto your hand as she reaches her orgasm, feeling the delicious contractions of her pussy crush your fingers.

Your fingers slowly slid out of her soaking cunt, leaving Larissa squirming, moaning and shaking.

You slid your glistening fingers into your mouth, not wasting a drop of her delicious fluids.

You slowly slide your tongue back into her sensitive cunt, wiping away the remains of her glorious orgasm.

[sugar-petals]

Hi caro hope you're doing well ! I was wondering what Billy magnusen body type was ? His features are like soft and rounded ,even his muscles, I thought maybe a romantic or a natural type ? Anyway thanks and have a great day 💜

Billy's a Pure Natural Kibbe body type imo! 💕

Torso + face + hands sport width, blunt shoulders, rather tall at 1,80cm, slim hips, strong thighs, arms & face more compact than elongated, neither petite nor balanced, frame dominant. All pure soft yang indicators. Like all Ns, he easily gains a muscular physique with the shoulder area most prominent.

Face: Neither slim/long like D nor full like R, nor contrasting in features like a G. SC could be possible and would be my second guess (he's often dressed as a C), tells me he's in the middle of the spectrum, but the body is too T-shaped + muscle-prone to be balanced. Kibbe's N face description:

"Facial bones are broad or prominent (nose, cheeks, jawline - blunt, not sharp). Eyes may be very straight and small. Lips are straight and slightly thin. Cheeks are taut." That's Billy! (i.e. very goodlooking)

Naturals are close to men's cultural beauty `ideal´ (FN), but less imposing, lanky, nor as asymmetric. They radiate "friendly, sporty, fit, handsome" instead. They're not thinly modelesque like otherworldly intimidating Ds, not flawlessly dandy-like Cs, not petitely youthful like G, nor softly rounded like Rs. They are effortlessly, likeably masculine with athletic blunt frames.

Charlie Hunnam, Frenkie De Jong (!), Robert Redford, Jensen Ackles, Alexander Ludwig, all from the N family, they resemble him.

Billy's roles have been a mixed styling bag (D and C clothes are too formal/boxy and sleek on him, R is cartoonishly ornate, G is too much), but the Instyle photoshoot... The lumberjack/rugged leisure look with minimal tailoring slash detail + strong fabrics is his forte. Pure Natural is THE casual archetype. To dress N up, you dress them down. All else is artificial.

Beard, looser longer hair, earth colors, the Kibbe recommendations really transform him. He becomes so much more intense, and even more handsome. Relaxing the lines, voila:

I first thought SN for him, too! But compare Kit Connor, Soft Natural incarnate: Billy's less yin. Kit is mega buff, but with notable lushness and an hourglass on top like a Romantic. The softness adds to his bevelled/wide/athletic N bone structure, around his cheeks, legs, chest, jaw, lips. He's both N and R.

Kit's not R, he towers over petite Joe Locke (FG)'s yin height. But even at his most muscular, Kit is still full and rounded in flesh instead of tautly ripped and T-shaped like Billy. Gratuitous pics incoming:

Typecasting them, Kit is the cute n sexy sports guy next door (N + R), Billy is the fun jacked athlete going on an outdoors adventure (N). SN is more androgynous, small, like Tom Hardy, Jungkook. Rs and TRs are below Billy's height range (e.g. Jimin); have curly yin hair, sloped shoulders, full lips, rounder eyes, think Nick Jonas, Kit Harrington.

Natural is less petite, and their arm/shoulder/rib area is always the most powerful part of their body. They're a wall, have more vertical. I can see some softness in the arms and thighs but the face isn't as luscious/sweet like yin. Just naturally (pun) athletic.

Hope you enjoyed the analysis and found it helpful! <3

[revryebread]

Everything Is Interstitial: Games inside of Games inside of Games

Interstitial is a game that takes characters and rips them from the cloth of where they come from and quilts them into one world. “Everything is Interstitial” is an extension of that: what if you could do that with mechanics and games?

I have teamed up with 5 designers to bring their games to Interstitial. When you turn the page from one to the other, you will stop being in Interstitial and start being in one of their games. They'll still be playbooks for Interstitial, but you will have the power to get into the gears and change the fabric of how you interact with the base system.

The best way I can put this is like in Dead Cells when you pick up the Hollow Knight needle and suddenly you can incorporate elements of Hollow Knight’s movement and gameplay into the game. I want that for Interstitial. (You can jump on people's heads and swing down, adding parrying and the weird bounce from the HK to a game that does not naturally have it!)

TAKUMA OKADA

Takuma is someone I have known in the TTRPG scene for what feels like ages, and their work has always been deeply impressive to me. They're a creator who has a way of stringing words together that could never come to me, and whenever they release something it feels like it changes the way I think. 

You may know them from Stewpot, Alone Among The Stars, and Old Home!

CARO ASERCION

Caro Asercion is someone I could work with every day and not get tired of it. When I read a game by them, it feels like momentum instead of action–their games let you be the movement of the gears, instead of the thing that is forcing them to turn. It feels second nature, and it makes things happen like magic in front of you.

You may know them from i'm sorry, did you say street magic?, Exquisite Biome, and The Long Shift!

TYLER CRUMRINE

Tyler has an absolutely incredible eye for resolution mechanics, and more importantly has a writing that lets me know cleanly and clearly how those mechanics work work cleanly and clearly. I come out of reading those rules like I've always known how to play. The Possible World RPG series is something I carry around with me when I'm traveling,  and whenever I show them to people they are amazed and impressed. 

You may know them from Beak, Feather, & Bone, Hounds, and Grandpa's Farm!

BRANDON LEON-GAMBETTA

I remember one of my first times ever being on Discord, sitting in the One Shot community, and turning to my wife and going "Oh woah, there's someone in here who actually makes TTRPGs!". That game was Pasión de las Pasiones, and that person was Brandon! I have been following his work forever, and between the experimentation that comes from his podcast or the genre work he's doing in his games, it's always incredible.

You may know him from Pasión de las Pasione, Stop Hack & Roll, and RadCrawl!

BRIAR SOVEREIGN

There is a wealth of big robot games out there in the wild, and to make yours stand out is a feat of strength. Briar's knack for amazing design both in layout and mechanics has made their work resonate clear above everything else. They are an absolute joy to know, and to work with them will be a highlight of my life.

These designers are each going to take one of their games and port it into Interstitial as a playbook, layout and all. This'll give players new mechanics to play around with, and hopefully ways to break everything. All of these designers are incredible at what they do–-- and they're bringing what they do to Interstitial. As long as we can hit that goal!!

[bupia]

27, 40 and 47 with Terzo ✨

STRIPPING

"You are doing so well." "I have no idea how to go about this." "Tell me what to do."

There's a smut under the cut, +18 only, please.

(This is about Terzo with a transmasc!reader)

Available on AO3

Day 8 | Day 10

Terzo reclined in the chair, the faint sound of creaking filling the room. He brought his gloved hands together, his gaze sweeping over you from head to toe. Being in his presence was intoxicating; he exuded charm and captivation. You couldn't deny that you'd entertained various thoughts about him, more than once. He was perfection personified, and why wouldn't you think about it? Besides, if the ministry celebrated such indulgences, there was no room for guilt.

"What were you about to say?" Terzo inquired.

You hadn't needed to approach him with it. You hadn't needed to visit his office. Sister Imperator or any other sibling could have assisted you. But you were here because you knew Terzo had more to offer, more to indulge. You were eagerly awaiting that "more," eager to hear what he had to say.

"They gave me the wrong habit size," you remarked, gesturing to yourself. "It's a tad too... snug."

"Sì, I can see that," Terzo replied with a sly grin. "And how might I be of assistance?"

"I don't know, Papa," you pondered, "I was thinking perhaps you could offer some help? After all, you are the Papa, right...?"

"Sì, caro," Terzo acknowledged, leaning forward slightly, "but I'm afraid I can't help you with your habit." He gestured towards the too-snug garment you wore. "This is not one of my duties here; I don't take care of the siblings' habits."

You fidgeted uncomfortably, adjusting the tight fabric. "But can't you even tell me who I should look for?"

Terzo leaned back in his chair, a contemplative look on his face. "I'm afraid I can't, tesoro," he sighed, "I really don't know who could assist you with that problem. Maybe another sibling of sin could help you." He gestured towards the door. "Is there anything else I can do for you?"

As you sighed in disappointment, you couldn't help but wonder if your expectations of Terzo had been misguided. Perhaps you had hoped for something suggestive from him, but reality didn't align with your fantasies. After all, he was a Papa, a man of great authority and impeccable behavior, always immersed in his responsibilities.

"No, Papa," you replied with a hint of gratitude. "Thank you for your time."

As you turned to leave, you heard the familiar creak of the chair behind you. Startled, you halted in your tracks when you heard Terzo's voice calling out to you.

"Wait," Terzo said, his tone changed.

You turned back to face him, curiosity in your eyes.

"Yes, Papa?" you responded, eager to hear what he had in mind.

"Maybe I can help you with your problem," Terzo suggested, stepping forward and leaning his back against the front of his desk.

You hesitated for a moment. "Oh, Papa, thank you very much, but I really don't want to bother you. You're probably very busy today, and as you said, I can seek help from another sibling."

"In that case, if you prefer their assistance..." Terzo began.

"No, Papa!" you responded, interrupting him with urgency.

"Molto bene," he said with a mischievous grin. "Come here, then. Let me assist you."

You walked back to him, coming to a stop right in front of Terzo. He placed his hands on your waist, and you couldn't help but feel a sense of anticipation. Finally, he began to guide you, slowly turning you around, his gaze tracing every inch of your figure.

He stopped as you completed the spin, withdrawing his hands from your waist and crossing his arms. His scrutinizing gaze moved over your figure one more time until it met your eyes. He sighed and shook his head.

"That's really bad, caro," Terzo remarked, his expression disappointed. "Really, really bad."

Confusion clouded your face. "What do you mean, Papa?"

"I'm afraid your problem has only one solution," he replied with a hint of seriousness.

"Only one?"

"Sì, caro, unfortunately, only one."

You took a deep breath, ready to follow his guidance. "That's fine, Papa. What should I do?"

"I don't know how to go about this," he sighed.

"It's okay, Papa."

"I'm afraid you will have to remove your habit," he stated plainly.

"I'm sorry?" you repeated, surprised and unsure of his request.

"You heard me, caro, take it off," Terzo insisted.

"Papa, how is that going to help me?" you questioned, still puzzled by his suggestion, but you knew you were getting what you wanted.

"Isn't it annoying you? Take it off," he repeated, his tone unwavering.

You began to reach for the zipper on your back, but Terzo swiftly caught your arms, stopping you in your tracks and gently pushing your hands away.

"No, caro," Terzo instructed. "Start with your veil."

Blushing, you complied, bringing your hands to your veil and slowly untying it from your head. As you removed it, you noticed a big grin on Terzo's face. He returned to his chair, sitting down and fixing his gaze on you.

"Keep going," he encouraged.

"Yes, Papa," you replied obediently.

With a sense of anticipation, you brought your hands to the zipper of your habit on your back, slowly starting to open it. Terzo reclined in his chair, his gaze remaining fixed on you, his interest palpable.

"You are doing so well," he praised you.

You nodded, continuing to lower the zipper of your habit, revealing more of your skin as you did. When the zipper reached the bottom, you continued to pull it downward, taking your habit off completely. The garment fell to the floor, exposing your body.

"Molto bene, caro," Terzo hissed, biting his lower lip in anticipation. He gestured towards your underwear with a sly smile. "But there is still one more thing, sì?" His desire was evident as he spoke. "Let me see how beautiful your body is."

"Are you sure, Papa?" you asked nervously, your desire to please him battling with your anxiety about exposing yourself in such a manner.

Terzo's gaze remained unwavering as he replied, "I couldn't be more sure, caro."

Again, you hesitated. You had never been naked in front of anyone before. But you knew you wanted to please him. So you took your hands and slid your fingers under the waistband of your underwear, pulling them down and letting them drop to your ankles.

The cool air hit your body, making you shiver slightly. It contrasted with the heat emanating from your core, which was already wet. You looked up at Terzo, who was staring intently at your body.

"Bravo ragazzo," Terzo praised you, his voice filled with approval. "Do you feel better now?"

"Yes, Papa," you replied, a sense of relief in your voice.

Terzo's gaze softened as he leaned closer. "Can I touch you, caro?" he asked, his desire now mixed with tenderness.

"Please, Papa," you whispered, your longing evident in your voice.

Terzo's smile was gentle as he beckoned you closer. "Come here, tesoro, sit on my lap," he invited, his tone filled with warmth.

You quickly sat on his lap, facing him. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close, his lips meeting yours. Your eyes closed as you felt his tongue slide into your mouth, exploring your mouth. His hands moved up to your nipples, caressing them gently, pinching them slightly. You moaned softly, arching your back slightly. "

Mmmm," Terzo sighed. "You are very responsive." His hands moved down to your belly, caressing your skin lightly.

He leaned forward, kissing your neck, then moving further down, until he was kissing your chest. He kissed your chest, licking each nipple in turn, making them harden even more. His fingers danced across your stomach, teasing you. Then he pushed his hand between your legs, sliding his fingers along your slit, feeling the heat radiating from your core.

"Oh, caro," Terzo groaned. "You are very wet."

You gasped, moving your hips forward, pressing your mound against his hand. He groaned, sliding his fingers between your folds, finding your clit. He rubbed it gently, causing you to gasp.

"Papa... " you breathed, trying to control your breathing.

"Shhhh," he said, kissing your neck. "You are so wet, tesoro," he pulled his fingers out of you, bringing them to your mouth.

You opened your mouth, allowing him to slide his fingers inside. You sucked them clean, licking them clean, tasting yourself on his fingers. Your heart was beating fast, your breathing heavy, your nerves on edge. You were so turned on by all of this, but you also felt embarrassed. This wasn't something that you would ever do normally, but you wanted more.

"Why don't you tell me why you came here today, caro?" he whispered. "Tell me what to do, let me give you what you want."

[dutifullynuttywitch]

Redemption is a Perpetual Journey

Series: Bloodbound

Pairing: Kamilah Sayeed x Gaius Augustine

Rating: Mature (angst)

Word count: 1,491

A little birthday gift for the amazing @thosehallowedhalls ! Based on a chat we had... and because you have made me see our dear Gaius in a new forgiving light 🤭 I hope you have an amazing day - you deserve happiness and all good things! I'm so glad I met you, Caro 🌺🎉

The year is 3024.

The world had transformed beyond recognition.

Vast expanses of the earth had become unliveable, forcing its inhabitants to shelter in massive city-states.

The city of Novopolis had risen from the ruins of New York during the times of upheaval.

It sprawls beneath a massive shimmering dome, its skyscrapers reaching for the artificial sky like thousands of jagged steel fingers.

The domes were built centuries ago, consequence of the ozone layer’s depletion. Humankind in its hubris having failed to reverse the climate crisis. This development had been convenient for the vampires who could now walk in the daylight amongst humans, cyborgs and all manner of supernatural beings.

Kamilah Sayeed lands smoothly in a forested park on the outskirts of the glittering, fast-paced city.

A tap on her smartwatch, the lightweight wings disappear into her outfit.

She takes in her surrounding with a sharp glance. Smoothing her sleek dress. The digitally-enhanced fabric changes to align with her desired look – an elegantly dark don’t fuck with me style that makes her feel powerful, in control.

Today, she needs to be in control.

A thousand years had passed since they had defeated the original vampire, the Goddess Rheya. Since that fateful conversation with her sire, her on-and-off lover for nearly two thousand years.

******

2024

“Kamilah… in Japan… you said one good deed doesn’t undo all the evil I’ve caused. How many do you think it would take… to call me friend?”

“Come talk to me in a thousand years. I’ll let you know what I think then.”

“A thousand years…” he smiles wryly, “I suppose I could give it a try.”

*****

Gaius Augustine had been true to his oath.

The vampire had spent the past millennia wandering the known world, hunting down criminals and supernatural villains without reprieve. He seemed to have kept mostly to himself, not staying anywhere long enough to build attachments. Only leaving a trail of whispers of his exploits across continents.

Avoiding all contact with other vampires, anyone from his old life.

That was fine by her.

Kamilah had not wanted to see him. She remained angry at how he had degraded her, corrupted her into becoming a killing machine for thousands of years. But more so, Kamilah was furious at how she had let herself be seduced by his charisma, his allure. Allowed him to tempt her into following his murderous inclinations for so long. No, it would be disingenuous to lay all the blame at her maker’s feet.

And there was the issue of Rheya. Gaius had said she was not completely to blame for his behaviour, though she had locked away his empathy, his ability to feel guilt. How would their lives have turned out without her toxic influence?

At least, the pain had dulled over the centuries.

She had begun to forgive herself.

As for Gaius, she would see.

Kamilah takes a deep breath, composing herself.

The elegant vampire sets off at a leisurely pace, strolling beneath the shade of tall trees.

She heads towards a massive wooden bridge crossing a stream. A vestige of New York. Nothing made of wood was created anymore, the few surviving forests too precious to misuse so.

Kamilah crosses paths with humans, faes and other mystical beings. Most now have artificial limbs and enhancements thanks to growing advancements in biohacking.

Lily would have thrived in this environment.

Kamilah vividly remembers the vibrant, energetic young woman who had sacrificed her life to help defeat Rheya. Lily’s contagious positivity and selflessness had managed to thaw her heart a little.

The other members of their ragtag crew – Adrian, Amy, Jax, Seraphine, Nikhil – also held a soft spot, though each had followed their own paths over the centuries.

“Kamilah.”

Gaius’s soft whisper jolts the woman from her musings.

“A thousand years apart, and yet here we stand.”

He stops a few feet from her, movements uncertain.

Quickly calming her heartbeat, Kamilah takes in his appearance.

Physically, he had changed little. Those same handsome, sharp features. That charming, deviously seductive smile. That ageless face.

Though a constellation of new scars told a story, centuries of rough living. His blue eyes now held a certain melancholy.

“I’ve missed you.”

He smiles tentatively, his angular face softening slightly.

Kamilah remains silent. Observing him.

Attempting to process the chaos of emotions churning deep within her.

Together, they had danced, loved, hated and fought through epochs, their passion always an unbreakable thread. But now, after so many centuries apart, he felt like a stranger to her.

Kamilah’s gaze turns away, sweeping over the cityscape.

“Novopolis. A monument to human resilience. And yet, it lacks the wild beauty of our old world.”

They lean against the worn bridge, staring out at the jagged skyscrapers. Letting the sunlight warm their exposed skin. The dome above them hums softly, shielding them from the toxic atmosphere beyond.

“That is does. I miss the vast forests of old. How one had to spend months hidden on cramped ships to travel between continents. Spend weeks on horseback, traversing vast fields and woodlands, our bodies stiff with the harsh journeys. I had never felt more alive. Now, everything feels fast-paced, ephemeral.”

“Except us. We remain constant through all of it, unchanged.”

“Are we truly unchanged?”

Gaius asks, turning to her, gazing into her eyes intently. As if her response meant everything to him. Could perhaps redeem him.

Kamilah returns his gaze. Silent. Her face an undecipherable mask.

The man sighs.

“I have done my best to atone for my past deeds. Though it can never erase all the harm I’ve brought this world, I dare hope that somewhere down the line, I… I will begin to hate myself less. And perhaps, so will you…”

Those last few words are whispered. A confession to himself, to her.

Kamilah’s gaze finally softens. The tension eases from her shoulders.

“Gaius, for the longest time I have blamed you for our bloody rampage across Europe. For nearly destroying New York. Killing Amy, and countless others. Truth be told, I have my share of misdeeds to atone for. I am still working on forgiving myself."

Gaius takes her hands in his, willing her to look at him.

“My dear, you have always been the greater one. My moral compass. I will forever regret not heeding your advice during my darkest moments. Gods if I could take it all back…”

“But we can’t. We can only move forward.”

Those hands. Kamilah shivers unwillingly at the familiar warmth, as a surge of memories overwhelm her senses. Oh, how these hands had caressed her so tenderly, sensually for centuries. Traced every curve of her body, memorized her intimately, elicited a range of pleasure and emotions that no other being – man or woman – had been able to match since. How these same hands had also threatened her, hurt her and her loved ones. Caused her uncountable grief and sorrow.

What were they to her now?

He notices the conflicting emotions flashing across her exquisite face and steps closer, sliding his hands up, caressing her arms, shoulders, wanting to ease her pain. Somehow.

On impulse, Kamilah reaches out, tracing his cheek with the tips of her fingers. Such familiar features. That soft skin, so warm.

He closes his eyes, leaning into her delicate touch. The shadow of a smile dances on the corners of his lips.

“Gaius, will we ever find peace?”

He opens his eyes, locking onto hers. A mix of emotions flickering in those endless pools. Sadness, self-loathing, tenderness… and hope.

“Perhaps. Perhaps… we can attempt to continue our journeys of atonement together?”

Kamilah closes her eyes at that, leaning her head on his shoulder.

Gaius gathers her into his arms tenderly. She buries her face into the crook of his neck and breathes in his familiar scent, hints of leather and earthy notes. Allowing herself to be vulnerable for a moment.

Just a moment.

As the city buzzes in the distance, Kamilah whispers against his warm skin, regretfully.

“I am not certain I am ready for that.”

Gaius holds her tighter, unable to let her go just yet. He nods his understanding into her obsidian hair, bending towards her ear to murmur

“I have waited a thousand years to see you again. For you, my queen, I will wait a thousand more.”

[des-paroles]

Fabrice Caro, Samouraï

[discountdemonwarehouse]

Kinktober 2024 - Prompt 14 - Tender Sex

Characters: Cardinal Copia and Cardinal Valentino (upcoming Missionary Man sequel)

Contains: M/M, handjobs in the shower

Val has a rough day with pain in his injured leg and Copia tries to make him feel better.

AO3 Link

Keep reading below the cut!

        Val limped into his quarters, leg aching. He’d tried to push through with his usual pain management, but the pain was too bad today and he’d left his office early. To complement his daily prescribed meds, he did have an ointment made by Primo’s group associated with the infirmary, and while it often helped, some days it barely made a dent in the pain. Even the feeling of fabric on skin seemed unbearable at times. He made short work of stripping off his fascia and cassock, dropping them as he went towards the bedroom, biretta tossed without care onto the couch. In the dim light of the bedroom he quickly removed his brace and stripped down, reaching for the jar of ointment and smearing some on. A hiss of air forced between his teeth as he rubbed the herbal ointment into his skin, grimacing at how little relief it provided. He carefully put the brace back on, damaged leg screaming for the support. A small collection of pillows was moved from the end of the bed and positioned just right before Val gingerly lowered himself onto the bed and moved into what he hoped would be a comfortable position. Sighing impatiently, he scrunched his eyes shut, hoping for oblivion.

        Some time later the apartment door opened then closed. Fabric rustled, then footsteps came across the floor to the bedroom. “Caro?” Copia called softly before his eyes adjusted to the dark, and he saw Val. “Oh, caro.” He hung the cassock and fascia on the back of the door, then moved to the side of the bed. “I know you’re awake – even on your worst days your face relaxes more than that if you’re asleep.” “I wish I was asleep,” Val grumbled. “Or dead. Leave the lights off.” “Certo.” More fabric noises filled the room as Copia removed his own fascia and cassock. The two didn’t officially live together yet, but spent most nights together in one apartment or the other – though usually in Val’s because of the mobility aids too often needed, and the fact he actually had a door. Oh so carefully, Copia sat on the edge of the bed beside his lover. “Do you want me to massage your leg?” “No.” “That bad today, eh?” Val grunted. Copia sighed. Val gestured with one hand, indicating Copia could join him. He might not want a lot of things, but he would take closeness from his partner.

        Copia gently settled beside him, mindful of his bad leg, and rested his head on Val’s chest. “Has it been bad all day or did it flare up? You didn’t trip or anything, did you?” “It’s been extra sore all day, but really flared up after lunch. I left early.” “I noticed.” Copia pressed a kiss to Val’s chest. “I know I always ask, but can I do anything to help?” “Kill me,” Val half-teased. “But no, just be here.” “Alright.” As the two lay there, Val could feel some relief starting to spread in his leg. His arm slipped around Copia, holding him close. Copia’s hands wandered in a gentle caress, loath to be still. “You know, I could maybe help with the pain relief,” Copia offered slyly. “What are you talking about?” “Well, I could, eh, help you with a little dopamine hit.” Copia smirked in the dim light. His fingers walked down Val’s torso, and Val realized what he meant, a small shiver running through him. “Copia…!” The fingers stopped moving, one sticking up as if frozen in step. “Is that a ‘no’?” Val paused for a moment. “No, no, it’s not a ‘no.’ Just be gentle.” “But of course, caro. Just tell me if I need to stop.”

        Copia kissed Val’s chest again as his hand made its descent to Val’s thighs, stroking gently, teasing lightly along his skin. Val sighed a little; Copia’s leather gloves were his weakness. Copia mostly avoided Val’s bad leg with his touching, focusing on his right leg instead. The leather-clad fingers trailed back up to Val’s abdomen, following the trail of hair. Val’s breathing had quickened, but not from pain. Copia continued his teasing, not yet touching Val’s cock, and turned his head slightly to work on leaving a hickey on his collarbone. Val shifted under Copia’s teasing, trying to find more contact without moving his leg too much. “Copia, please…” “Hm? Oh, right. I shouldn’t tease you too much or you’ll hurt your leg in your squirming.” Copia sat up suddenly, removing his hands from Val’s body. “What are you doing?” Val asked quietly. “I have an idea. Hang on. Relax for a little longer,” Copia murmured, kissing Val softly. Val kissed back, but relaxed as instructed as Copia left the room.

        He could hear the sound of things scraping in the shower from the next room, and knew Copia was getting his shower stool set up for him. He smiled to himself as he thought about how Copia cared for him, how tender he was if he knew Val was having a pain day. Val wasn’t always reciprocative to Copia’s advances due to his leg injury, and lower libido, and Copia always took it in stride – fussing over him, making sure he was taking his medications and resting, or taking charge in the bedroom. Typically reserved during love making, Val became more vocal during sex when he was having a higher pain day, which he found somewhat embarrassing, but Copia loved it and didn’t shame him for it. The sound of running water reached Val’s ears, and he sighed a little. Sometimes the heat helped, and thankfully with the resting he’d done so far and the ointment, his leg pain had calmed a little. Copia reappeared in the doorway a moment later. “Come on, caro, let’s get you into the shower,” Copia murmured, helping Val sit up on the edge of the bed.

        Gently, Copia led Val into the bathroom and helped settle him on the seat. A decent amount of steam filled the space, and the air was already warm thanks to the water already running. Val’s eyes closed as the water hit him, the heat helping his leg almost immediately. “How’s the positioning? Do I need to adjust the showerhead or temperature?” “No, it’s perfect. You know everything so well, amore.” “It’s my job as your partner,” Copia informed him sweetly, kissing his cheek. “Now sit there and enjoy.” “Sì, Cardinale,” Val muttered back, lovingly playful. Copia busied himself behind Val in the shower space, lathering up a washcloth with a bar of soap. Copia took the attached shower wand and carefully sprayed Val’s torso and back so he could soap him up. He started with Val’s back, scrubbing and massaging gently, feeling tension leaving Val. A soft sigh left Val and Copia smiled to himself; his idea was working.

        His hands slipped around to the front of Val’s body, and he again began the gentle routine, while also starting to kiss his neck. Val’s head turned and Copia brushed his lips across Val’s. The two continued kissing, each one getting a little more passionate, while Copia’s hands still caressed Val’s soapy torso. “I love you so much,” Val whispered. “And I you, caro,” Copia responded, nuzzling his neck. Val gasped softly as Copia’s hand slid around his cock, stroking it and cupping his balls. Val pressed his cheek against Copia’s, staying still to let him work his magic. It didn’t take long for Copia to have Val fully erect, his heavy breathing and small moans louder in the shower’s tiled space. Val’s hand had found Copia’s cock and was slowly working him into hardness as well. “This was supposed to be me making you feel better,” Copia whispered amusedly in Val’s ear. “Maybe returning the favour makes me feel good too,” Val murmured back. Copia hummed appreciatively in response, pressing more kisses to Val’s neck and shoulder.

        Both men were soon moaning softly from the other’s touch, both knowing exactly how the other loved to be handled. Copia’s hips thrust lightly into Val’s hold, fucking himself against his hand. Val was quivering from Copia’s stroking, his free hand holding the shower bar to keep from sliding off the shower seat. The combination of everything soon had Val on the brink of orgasm. “Copia…” he groaned. “Cum for me, amore,” Copia whispered, kissing him and squeezing just a little firmer on Val’s cock, hitting the perfect spots just so. A few more strokes and Val moaned into Copia’s mouth as he came, Copia still gently stroking him until he was done. Copia’s other hand closed over Val’s on his cock, urging his partner to stroke him faster and grip harder until he came with a cry against Val’s shoulder. They leaned into each other, breathing heavily in the afterglow of their orgasms. “Good thing we were in the shower, eh?” Copia joked, still panting a little. “Easy clean up is always a bonus,” Val replied wryly, reaching for the nearby shower wand. “How is your leg? Ready to go lay down again?” Copia asked after they were both rinsed off. Val nodded, and Copia turned off the water and helped Val onto the bathmat to dry. The two then moved back to the bed, and settled down together.

        Val woke sometime later, alone on the bed, haphazardly covered in a soft blanket. His leg was more manageable now, most of the pain gone. He looked over as he heard a metallic thud, seeing Copia sitting at the small table in Val’s quarters. “Is that a gun?” he asked, leaning up to see better. “Oh, you’re awake, caro!” Copia said, startled. “Uhh… Sì, è una pistola.” “And why exactly isn’t it at the gun range? You remember our rules.” “It’s, uh… It’s a, uh, new one… I need to inspect and clean it first,” Copia mumbled quietly. “Aha! I knew it! You broke our agreement! That means I get a new fossil!”

        “Amore, no, it’s a business purchase!” Copia argued back lamely. “Bullshit! Get me my laptop! Where’s my phone?! I already have shit loaded in my cart because I knew this day would come!” Val sat up, head turning to find his electronics. “Caro,” Copia whined, “We already have so many fossils. And you won’t cover the t-rex replica when we have sex…” “No, Copia. We had an agreement!” Val was opening his laptop, knowing exactly which fossil he was going to order. “Caro…” Copia whined. Val glared playfully at him. “Keep that up and I’ll put it on your credit card!”

[dantesunbreaker]

Feral Mouse

Papa Emeritus IV x GN!Reader

Just a quick little drabble based on how I was feeling yesterday. I was very ready to bite any hands that got too close.

Something isn’t right when Papa Emeritus IV opens the door to his chambers, only to be met with a dark room full of silence. Often you would return from your duties far earlier than him, always there to greet him with a warm hug and kiss before settling in for a relaxing evening. But you are nowhere in sight. What he does see however, is a large mass of blankets and pillows stretching over a large section of the bedroom.

“Caro?” Calling out seems to elicit no response, so Copia creeps closer until he stands at the edge of the mountain.

Copia reaches a blind hand into the cavern of blankets, hoping to meet the solid warmth of your body against his palm. But instead he is met with a sharp pain in his fingers.

"Cazzo! What the...?" Yanking back, Copia looks down at his hand to see the clear imprint of teeth along his middle and index finger. 

Something stirs within the blankets, shuffling around and causing layers of fabric to shift and cascade to the floor. For a moment Copia worries that perhaps some wild creature has managed to somehow slip into his quarters unnoticed. But then a pair of twin eyes emerge from the shadows within the mound of plush fabric. Very human and very familiar eyes.

"Amore?" There is a flicker of recognition. Holding his hand close to his chest, out of your reach, Copia crouches until your eyes are level. "Amore, you bit me,” he dares a look of disbelief at the mentioned wound before looking back at you. “What is going on with you?"

A low growling rumble comes from the blanket cave, all the warning that Copia gets before a hand strikes. Fingers close around his wrist and pull until Copia loses balance. With a surprised yelp, he tumbles onto his backside, quickly dragged into the dark depths. 

It takes a moment for Copia's eyes to adjust to the dim light, but when he does, it is a surprise to him how spacious the nest of blankets actually seems. Certainly not enough to stand, but three or four people could easily sit inside without touching. For a moment, Copia forgets your presence, too caught up in admiring your craftsmanship. But the soft grumbles from across him draws back his attention. 

Any other situation, Copia would find the way you're on your hands and knees dressed in your most comfortable clothes adorable. But with your hair wild, sticking up in every direction, and the visible tension in your shoulders, all he can feel is concern. 

"Hey, come to Papa," his voice is soft and soothing, the way you would speak to a spooked animal. Copia opens his arms, staying low to the ground and waits for you to make the first move. "Come tell Papa what is wrong so he may fix it, eh?"

Within seconds you are perched in Copia's lap, hands clutching at the front of his shirt as you forcefully nuzzle your face into his neck. Trying both to absorb his scent and leave yours on him. Gentle hands rub whatever parts of your body they can reach, trying to work the tension out of your body. It seems to help as you begin to practically purr in Copia's arms. 

"I'm grumpy," you finally mutter, tone curt and very much portraying displeasure. Not with Copia of course, but at the world itself. 

"Hmm, would you care to tell me what caused this mood?" Copia leans into you, giving you as much physical connection as he is able. 

"No." Shifting, you move to wrap your arms and legs around Copia's torso, clinging to him. "I growled at Sister Imperator.”

Copia can’t help the thunderous laughter that erupts at the thought of you growling at Sister, one of the high ranking members of the clergy. You mewl at the vibration of Copia’s chest, somehow seeming to pull him even closer. A hand settles in your hair, blunt nails lightly scratching your scalp in a reassuring manner.

“I’m sure there are many siblings that would love to do the same,” Copia strokes the space between your shoulder blades, “they just aren’t as brave enough to do it like you.”

He can feel your head nod in agreement against his shoulder where you have nestled. A startled gasp leaves him when he feels your teeth clamp down on his shoulder, though not a harsh bite like before. No, instead you simply hold him there for a few minutes before releasing and rubbing your nose against the same spot.

“If I didn’t know any better, I think I would have mistaken you for one of the ghouls amore mio,” with tone light and teasing, Copia presses a chaste kiss to your temple. You give a happy chirp, glancing up at him while baring your teeth in an adorable manner. “Someone has been spending a bit too much time with Swiss.”

That earns Copia a soft giggle, and he knows that he is breaking through your sour mood. Whatever it takes, he will have you happy and smiling by the end of the day.

“I love you,” Copia gives more kisses, moving to hold you better in his lap and beginning to gently rock you. “My sweet, feral topolino.”

[mythserene]

LEWISOHN: Let's crowdsource this bastard.

Check a footnote.

Whether you heroically tear straight into him like @wingsoverlagos or you find one thing like @delightfullyatomicfest did, it matters! What I hoped for and imagined from the beginning was some sort of crowdsourced work. There is too much for any one person, and one of the biggest problems with Beatles' sources is that they're not all equally easy to get to for everyone. And although this has become personal for me, it is an objectively huge problem for all Beatles fans and scholars that the man who has collectively been called the Beatles historian has—and I cannot say this clearly enough—BEEN JUST MAKING SHIT UP.

He literally ends ‘Tune In’ with a fabricated line that he sources to John Lennon. (!!!)

(Which I might not have realized for ages—if ever—if not for this @wingsoverlagos post)

Lewisohn has no shame.

And while it may seem like we are screaming into the void right now, I will tell you that we are not. I fear jinxing anything so I won't say more now, but our work is not in vain. People are paying attention. How can they help but pay attention? It's too shocking a betrayal. Too great a breach of trust. It has become overwhelming and impossible to ignore, and it has happened so quickly. Just by a few people taking the time to do the work.

And what is obvious now is that if you take a piece of source material that's referenced and go through it you will find butchered and fabricated quotes. And whether you do it that way or just check a footnote that interests you PLEASE TELL ME what you find! 🙏🏻

I am trying to gather all this up in one place. An ammo dump, if you will. If you want credit, tell me how you want to be credited, linked to, and any combination thereof. (I don't like taking credit for things I don't find, anyway.) But either shoot me a message or @ me or all of the above so we can collect all together and it can have the cumulative effect it deserves. (I will respond, but sometimes I am gone for a few days at a time, and occasionally for up to a week. I always come back, though.) #crowdsourcelewisohn

I have also set up an email for collecting funky footnotes: exactwords.lewisohn@gmail.com (At this point I'm only checking this once a week.)

If you look, you almost certainly will find.

If you have any Beatle magazines or Pete Best's book, "Beatle!" you could be a superhero. (One chapter of Best's book is available online, but I haven't been able to find the rest.) Or if you have any less-available source material I am urging you—begging you—to jump in and check some footnotes. With Lewisohn as bold as he is in the easily searchable things just imagine the license he's taking in the rest. But whether hard to find or commonplace, check a source. It adds up and it kind of feels good to uncover some bullshit.

For your edification and motivation I am adding a clip — lightly edited to take out some Lewisohn devolutions (so here's the queued up link) — of Mark Lewisohn bragging and basking in the praise of being called a historian who should be ranked alongside the great LBJ biographer Robert Caro, of him saying that the Beatles should appreciate anyone writing a biography of this high a standard about them, and a momentary lapse into deep resentment that they don't appreciate him. And then he gives his little speech about the Beatles being about “truth with a capital ‘T’” and how he is writing a biography to match that truth.

“Truth” is a word Mark Lewisohn needs to keep out of his mouth. If you feel like he should be struck by lightening for uttering it, that is exactly what I am talking about.

We are that lightening.

Honestly, what AKOM started is so awesome. It gave this an outlet. (And I still go back and listen for both source material and motivation.)

It's sickening to listen to this now. Sickening because Lewisohn has been making us all his dupes for far too long. We have been his marks, and there's almost nothing I hate more than being conned.

[kaminocasey]

Holy crap! 700!!! 😱

Congratulations Casey. You did so well. Also hapoy anniversary... Can’t believe it’s already a year that you are here and almost as long that we talk to each other. It git better with every month 😏

Fingers crossed 🤞 that I am one of the 15 lucky one’s to get a prompted fic from you.

If so... I'd like to suggest:

Thorn: "I'm not jealous.... you're just mine."

I want to see that sweet boy with his cute smile when he whispers these words.

(Also... I'm old enough for the naughty list - give me the good stuff 👀)

CARO MY DEARRRRESTTTT!!!! I AM SO SO SORRY THIS IS SO LATE!!! I hope you can forgive me and that I've at least made it up to you a little bit with this Thorn piece that I genuinely enjoyed writing? You've been so kind to me from the start and I'm so grateful to know you! Thanks for sticking around! <3

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI; Smutttt, oral (m receiving), unprotected sex between partners (wrap it up friends), slight angst? Jealous Thorn

WC: 1.3K

“Have a good night.” Fox grins at you as you tell him to have a good night and that you’ll see him in the morning. 

“You as well sir.” You smile politely and then turn as Fox’s door slides shut, finding Thorn with his arms crossed. 

You look around subtly to make sure no one is around before going to kiss him but he turns his head slightly so you catch the corner of his mouth. “What’s wrong?” Your eyebrows furrow with confusion.

He’s quiet for a moment and you start to think about all the things you’ve said to him over the last few days, just hoping you’ve not upset him. He’s not normally one to get upset over silly little things. But right now, he looks irritated.

“Thorn.” You run your hands up the cool plastoid armor of his arms and try to get him to uncross his arms.  

“I saw the way Fox was looking at you.” Thorn grips your hips and backs you up against your desk. 

“And?” You raise your eyebrows with a slight shrug. “What about it?”

Thorn’s eyes darken as he towers over you. “And I don’t appreciate it.” 

“Aw.” You tease him, running your thumb over his lip. “I didn’t know you got jealous, Thorn.”

He lets out a humorless chuckle as his hand slides up your stomach, over your chest, finding your throat and gently pressing in. “Oh, cyar’ika…” He grins, devilishly. “I’m not jealous. You’re just mine.” 

Before you can say anything, his lips crash to yours. You moan softly against him, making him smirk into the kiss. 

“Say it. Tell me you’re mine.” His voice is raspy and low with need and you think you know immediately where this is headed. 

“I’m yours.” You whimper as his free hand finds your clothed warmth, his thumb rubbing mindlessly over your clit, making the fabric catch in a way that sends heat throughout your veins. “Only yours.”

“That’s right.” He pulls you off the desk momentarily, pushing you down to your knees. “You wanna prove it?” 

You grin up at him with a nod, immediately undoing his codpiece, sending it clattering to the floor as you palm his hardened length. You glance at Fox’s closed office door, knowing he’s probably already snoring, but definitely not wanting to get caught. 

Thorn doesn’t care though, it seems. He pulls his length out of his body suit and starts to press toward your lips, encouragingly. 

“Go on.” He runs his fingers through your hair. “Show me that you belong to me.” 

You take Thorn’s hardened length in your hand, giving him two slow pumps making his lips part as he watches you. When you take the tip of his cock in your mouth, he presses further and your jaw relaxes instantly, prepared to take all of him. 

“So pretty on your knees for me.” He praises you as you take him further in your mouth. “Feels so fuckin’ good, cyar’ika.” 

You hum around him, taking him as far as you can until you're met with blonde curls against your nose. You constrict your throat around him and he groans loudly. Giving him a swift smack to the thigh with your eyes darting toward Fox’s door. 

Thorn chuckles. “You afraid of getting caught like this? With my cock down that pretty throat of yours?” 

He starts thrusting slightly and you moan around him, swirling your tongue around the veins of his cock. His grip in your hair tightens and you can tell he’s struggling to let you keep control. The realization turns you on more than you knew it could and you run your hands up his thighs until you find the base of his cock, twisting slightly as you continue bobbing your head on him.

“Osik…” He groans, watching as you pull away with a trail of spit following with you. “So fucking pretty.” 

His sounds go straight to your warmth and you clench around nothing, knowing you’re already soaked for him.

“Maybe I should make you prove that you belong to me?” You tease with a smirk. 

“That can be arranged.” He pulls you up and guides you to your desk.

You watch as he pulls your underwear down and drops them to the floor, loving the way his large hands look against your skin. He’s always been so good with his hands, but right now, you need his cock. 

“You want it?” Thorn teases your soaked cunt with the tip of his cock.

“Please… Thorn.” You look up at him with wide needy eyes. 

“Fuck I love the way you say my name.” He groans softly, leaning over to kiss you again. 

You feel him line himself up with you as he sinks in deeply, causing you both to moan against each other’s mouths, hotly. He slides his arm underneath you and lifts slightly so that he can push further into you and your fingers find your clit, rubbing firm circles as he starts to thrust and you try your best to keep your sounds low. 

“Maker, you’re so fucking hard.” You whisper, resting your head against his. 

“You have no idea.” He chuckles. 

“You should get jealous more often.” You tease, holding onto his neck. 

“I told you…” He starts thrusting harder. “I wasn’t jealous.” 

“Sure.” You roll your eyes, from his thrusting or his lie, you don’t know.

All you know is that this feels fucking amazing and you can’t even bring yourself to care that literally anyone could walk by and catch Commander Thorn giving it to you rough and dirty, all for being jealous of another commander. 

You start to feel that warm familiar feeling pool into your stomach and you know you’re so close. He pushes you on your back and replaces your own fingers with his own. You can’t help but watch as he pulls his fingers away, spits on your soaked cunt, and then returns his fingers.

“Tell me you’re mine.” You repeat his words, grinning up at him as you clench around him. “Just like I’m yours.”

“Oh fuck…” He groans, filling you up a little sooner than he wanted. “I’m yours, love. All yours. Always.”

His words send you over your edge with him, causing you to run your fingers up into his blond locks, and grip tightly as you cum hard around his cock, whimpering and begging for him. He groans softly, loving the way your fingers feel in his scalp and the way your voice gets when you cum. He’ll never get over it. 

You kiss him again before he pulls out gently, grabbing a few tissues to clean you up before himself. He hands you your underwear and you toss them back to him. 

“Keep them. I was thinking about you a lot all day so they’re probably… ahem… good material for later.” You chuckle. 

“You’re too perfect.” Thorn chuckles, placing a soft, sweet kiss to your forehead and then your cheek, finally settling on your lips. “Let me walk you home before anyone realizes I’m gone.”

He gathers up your bag, and offers his arm, guiding you to the lift. This thing between the two of you may be secret but you both know that one day, when this stupid war is over, the hope of your freedom to be with each other is what keeps you going at the end of the day. 

When Thorn gets you back to your apartment, he lingers in the doorway just a little longer than normal and you notice. 

“I’m sorry for getting jealous earlier.” He murmurs, leaning in your doorway, twirling your hair and then tracing his finger down your jaw. 

“It’s okay.” You reach up and kiss him, squeezing his other hand. “I hope you know you have nothing to worry about, though. I mean it when I say it… I’m only yours.” 

He rests his forehead against yours, closing his eyes and breathing you in, finally feeling all the worries fade into the background. “And I’m yours.”

TAGS: @twistedstitcher27 @misogirl828 @rebel-finn @rexandechosandwich @madameminor @dumfanting @rain-on-kamino @corona-one @tecker @ladykatakuri @brynhildrmimi @the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond @zoeykallus @maulslittlemeowmeow @littlemousedroid @arctrooper69 @rexxdjarin @agenteliix @padawancat97 @hated-by-me @sleepingsun501 @quigonswife8 @idlenesses @redheadgirl @themcuwriter @ashotofspotchka @sunshinesdaydream @crosshairsimp73 @ariadnes-red-thread @rosmariner @heyitsaloy @starstofillmydream @high-ct5555 @echos-girlfriend @sleepywych @nekotaetae @justanothersadperson93 @brownstalebread @aconstructofamind @book-of-baba-fett @chopper-base @palliateclaw @501st-rexster @dead-poolz @nahoney22 @where-is-my-mind-tho @jediknightjana @erishimoon @witching3 @queen-of-many-fandoms