#i do consider it more Pathetic for a man to hit a woman

[simptasia]

that "women should be drafted" shit reminds me of those weirdoes who are like "feminism means it should be okay for men to hit women" and like. its not okay for anybody to hit anybody fuckwit

[poppy-metal]

had a thought of fwb patrick calling you to let you know he fucked someone else (he is SO good at communication if he cares about preserving a relationship) and being like “i kept calling them your name but they didn’t feel like you :/ ”

crying because you're probably the one who said you should see different people - scared of getting attached to patrick and inevitably getting your heart broken - but you know you can't resist him either, not when he speaks to you in that voice and looks at you with those eyes like he's already thinking about being balls deep inside you and is just letting you have your little moment till it happens, so yeah. walls are put up. you'll let him bounce you on his cock in the back of his van, but you wont be exclusive with him.

it kinda backfires on you because you're the one who finds it hard to actually fuck other people, so insistent that you wanted to - and yet whenever you're with another man it just feels wrong when he puts his hands on you. you purposely refuse to think about patricks side of things. you're not special. thats why you made the fucking rule. you knew that from the start.

so when patrick calls you drunk and he starts to tell you about this girl he was just fucking - you're ready to hang up - ready to try and brush it off and pretend it doesn't hurt, you dont care, its what you expected, this is why the rules were in place anyway, dont fucking cry - but then his voice reaches through you through the receiver, all scratchy and rough when he tells you - "s'not the same, though."

and you furrow your brows. curious enough to not hang up just yet. still sick at the knowledge he was with someone else, maybe this is self punishment - hearing the gritty details will detach yourself from him further. which is what you need. "what wasn't the same? pussies pussy, isn't it."

patrick makes a sound on the other end of the line. one of obvious disagreement. "no." he says, seems to collect himself to say something more - you hear faint background sounds. something metallic. his keys maybe? the creak of his mattress. he just got home probably. is getting into bed. "there's pussy and there's your pussy."

you find yourself also getting into your own bed. settling against your pillows. you try not to react to that, press the phone closer to your ear. "uh huh," you say, going for sarcastic. you want him to elaborate.

and because patricks a fucking talker, he does exactly that. "you've totally fucking ruined me for other women. i mean, unless someone is cool with me being balls deep and saying another womans name. that woman is you, by the way. fucking mood killer."

you hear the switch of a lighter being flicked on. you can imagine him lounging back in his bed after a night out - he's probably just in his boxers - maybe even naked - lazily pulling drags from a cigarette as he talkes to you. phone balanced between his cheek and shoulder.

"do you want me to feel bad for you?" you tell him, and there's perhaps a smile in your voice. perhaps. "poor patrick."

"you should." he tells you, voice scratchy like how it is right after he took a hit. you hear the exhale as he lets the smoke out. patrick looks unfairly good with a cigarette. even though he should quit. you wonder if hes holding it between his fingers or if its trapped between his lips as he fiddles with something else. "considering its your fault. your pussy gave me whiskey dick for other girls."

you try not to let that mean anything. fail. you bite your bottom lip.

"so you were thinking of me?" you hate the note of hope in your voice. god, you're pathetic. you feel the power of the situation slipping from you.

the bed creaks again from his side as he readjusts. picturing him isn't helping. half dressed or nude. half dressed or nude. how unkempt is his hair right now? you wish he was in front of you. "i was going down on her," he starts and you frown.

"ugh-"

"shut up. i was going down on her and she was making these sounds right? and i just kept thinking-" he says your name. over and over again. "- and 'her pussy feels better than this'. had to fuckin. close my eyes and imagine that shit - that last time i fucked you? when you sank down on my shit and just - fucking bounced on it - d'you remember that? no one fucks my dick like you do. shits insane. anyway, i was thinking about that - and i guess i said your name or something - she's slapping the shit out of me out of nowhere. kicked me out." he lets out a long suffering sigh. "this is a fucking problem."

you roll over onto your stomach. kick your feet in the air behind you. "oh, its a problem, huh?" you pout out your bottom lip. "poor patrick. so pussy whipped he cant slut himself out. im crying for you."

"oh, fuck off." he grunts. "like you dont think about me when you're getting pounded by some pencil dicked bitch."

"and how do you know their dick sizes? maybe im getting 'pounded' by monster cock every weekend."

"nah." is patricks simple reply.

you glare even though he cant see you. "the fuck is that supposed to mean?"

"it means." patrick says, deliberately. "that if you were taking cock from anyone with a big dick your cunt wouldn't be as tight as it is."

you swallow. vulgarity from patricks lips shouldn't sound as good as it does.

"vaginas dont work like that, stupid."

"baby." he says it condescendingly. a gush of wet soaks your pussy. fuck. his voice. he shouldn't be allowed to call you that. new rule. that you'll impose later. "you're as tight as a virgin down there. I'm not saying you'd be loose, but - i definitely wouldn't have to pin you down." if you're slipping your hand under yourself to touch yourself, no you're not. "- and fucking bully my cock into you."

you tremble a little. "you have an unnaturally big cock its -" you swallow "- its not any indication of the men i sleep with."

"sure." he tells you. he doesn't believe you. fucking smug asshole. "so you're saying you dont think of me?"

you lie, "that's what im saying."

its quiet on the other side of the line. your hand comes out of your panties, you look down at your phone but he hasn't hung up.

"huh." he says eventually.

"what?" you sit up.

"it's just interesting."

"what about it is interesting?"

"nothing." he replies. his tone is unreadable. you cant tell if hes amused or pissed or just doesn't care. you wish you could see his face. when he's irritated, his jaw works back and forth. when he's entertained, his lips are quirked. you wonder what his hands are doing too. if he's fidgeting with his fingers to show anxiety, or if his knee is bouncing with contempt. "i wanted to tell you I'll be out of town for a few weeks."

you blink. this is - startling. sudden. whiplash. you open and close your mouth like a fish.

weeks. plural. the longest you've gone without seeing patrick is three weeks. and that's when you're both busy. anxiety enters your chest. a fissure of it.

"oh?" you try to sound casual. "how long?"

"dont know." he exhales through the receiver. "its just some tennis shit. I'll be in florida for a month."

"oh."

he says your name again.

"yeah?" your mind is drifting. a strange feeling. like you already miss him when he's not even gone yet. a month without patrick zweig... without his hands and his face and his lips and body on yours -

"I'm gonna miss you." he says. he sounds deeply sincere. like, intensely so. your heart thumps in your chest, a wild thing. you feel like suddenly, your response is very important. you lick your lips. the urge to tell him you'll miss him too on the tip of your tongue -

you say - "you'll miss my pussy, you mean."

silence for a beat.

then he huffs a laugh. "yeah. yeah, i will." he doesn't sound amused though. "gonna pass the fuck out, i think. night."

"nigh-" you start but the line clicks.

he hung up.

[txttletale]

roadhogsbigbelly is doubling down. genuinely incredible (yes i am aware how deeply funny it is to start a serious post with that sentence. it is my one allotment of levity)

oh okay you just assumed that "loliporn" was involved and something that i deserved to be associated with defending and accused of making "integral to the queer identity" because of stuff that the OP (who i cannot stress enough i never followed or talked to or knew in any fucking way!) did that got called out months after i made my addition?

the rest of his post is just a very lengthy way of saying "umm if you didn't want to be called a pedophile because you were mean about stardew valley maybe you should be more careful about how you reblog from". yeah buddy im sure you apply that standard to yourself too huh. im sure you pull out your Bad Person detector every time you reblog a fucking post and beam OP with it. you literally screenshot my post about how as a trans women i get this standard uniquely applied to me and went "um its a good standard though. answer for the actions of every fucking person youve ever reblogged a post by".

and all this whole fucking schtick where he's like "ummmm im not calling you a pedophile :) i just assumed you thought 'loliporn was integral to the queer identity' based on source: i made it up and am going out of my way to repeatedly say you're agreeing with pedophiles and not being wary enough about pedophiles and that 99% of people who make the type of post im accusing you of making are pedophiles" is so fucking pathetic and if you fall for it you are a blatant transmisogynist like come the fuck on man.

i am no longer having a nice time on the computer, i am pretty fucking angry. and all this because he "doesnt have much skin in the game" but he doesn't like my stardew valley takes! yeah man real proportionate response.

not to mention the aside he makes to say 'wah wah someone told me to kill myself' amiguito do you have any fucking idea what my inbox has looked like since this entire transmisogynistic harassment campaign began a week ago? i delete those asks because i'm not into flaunting every piece of online abuse i get to make myself look like the victim in computer arguments but it has been constant and graphic! breaking news, women are people too, some of the most cutting-edge research suggests they might even have feelings!

"oh i censored her identity i dont know how she even found it" oh okay so you were anonymously pedojacketing me to your thousands of followers while vaguing about a post i made that had thousands of notes and using the same screenshot that an uncensored version of was passed around with thousands of notes as part of a transmisogynistic harassment campaign last fucking week?

how could anyone possibly have guessed it was me! it's a real mystery man it was basically witness protection. "oh but i didn't know, i didn't know she was trans", maybe he'll also say he didn't know about the harassment campaign, hey fucker, maybe apply some of the constant scrutiny you're reserving for women who are mean about farming game and apply it to yourself and consider looking into these things before baselessly making pedo accusations against someone!

this transmisogynistic crybully shit is absolutely fucking insufferable and i am absolutely sick of it and anyone who buys into it. i'm done assuming good faith or ignorance. i am not going to be a good placid little bullying target and acquiesce to this vile shit. it's truly fucking incredible that a tme guy can be found out as an actual pedophile and guys like mr. belly can immediately jump into action to use this as an opportunity to denounce a trans woman who had one interaction with him ever that consisted of five minutes spent typing an addition to a post and hitting ''reblog''. & if you don't find that sickening then straight up you are not safe for trans women to be around.

[aluciahaz]

Sub Adam smut pleasepleasepleaspelalslePLEASEPLEASE i NEED that dickhead to be put in his place I am BEGGING (fem reader<3)

my favorite genre is putting adam in his place 🤝 also how do writers make text yellow on mobile all i could find was orange 💀

know your place

— adam x f!reader

—includes : pegging, crying, begging, bondage, edging, bottom!adam, dom!fem reader

he’s pathetic.

adam, the first man, seemed more like an annoying bird than an angel as he kept boasting about his status and yapping about his dumb stories. how could someone so renowned as him be such a brat?

it was clear he needed some training.

and if no one was going to teach him on how to shut up, you’ll do it yourself.

“mfph—! mmmh!”

adam’s incomprehensible whines sounded better than any foolish joke he’d try and tell you.

his mouth was covered, his hands were bound, and his eyes were blinded with the fabric ripped off of his ostentatious clothes.

the tears stemming from his woeful desperation soaked into the makeshift blindfold, but still streamed down his face like a weak river. the way his mouth quivered around the spit-covered cloth was so pathetic that it was almost endearing.

almost.

if only he wasn’t such a dick all the time, maybe you’d have some more empathy.

his body is trembles as he arches his back again, a loud cry leaving his restrained mouth once more as you drive your strap inside of him, constantly hitting the spot that made him feel like he was in heaven. or well, another heaven.

the vibrator on his tip certainly was helping him feel like he was ascending too.

although, unfortunately for him, the cock ring stopped him from truly meeting god. or maybe lucifer, considering how sinful this all was.

his wings would flail beneath him like a caught dove, flapping and batting against the soft bedsheets every time he got close.

which of course, you’d follow it up by slowing down both the vibrator and your hips.

it made him wail every time, slamming the back of his head down onto the pillow as he begged for you to let him come.

but how would you know? you couldn’t hear any words coming from his mouth.

“i didn’t quite catch that, what did you say?”

“mphf—mm!! mh—hm—hmm!”

he couldn’t speak even if he didn’t have the fabric between his lips. his mind was thoroughly melted, swirling with only thoughts of you and the pleasure he was experiencing. there was no way he could possibly be coherent.

the night keeps going like this. adam, the self-proclaimed best playboy around heaven, getting absolutely ruined by a woman. his weary moans and frail keens fell onto deaf ears. his begging, simply incomprehensible as you show him how weak he was under your touch. he doesn’t know how long it’s been, but surely too long!

too bad you don’t think so.

later, you finally pull off the makeshift gag after what you deem is enough time for him to remember that he’s just a feeble man when it comes to you. that you were the one who truly had the power around here.

“PLEASE! please—please please oh, fuck please—!” his voice would fray as it got higher, drool slipping down his bottom lip as he pleaded.

“please what?”

“plea—please…ha, lemme cum—ngh!” he grits his teeth as you thrust particularly roughly, raising the speed of the vibrator as you do so. it drives him insane, your cruelty.

“no.”

you could only describe his sound as a guttural scream, crying for you, his true goddess, to let him cum. it reeks of desperation, his writhing, his now jumbled mess of begging, his now breaking spirit.

he’s yours, yours, yours.

he doesn’t even realize he’s saying it out loud.

“i’m sorry—i’m sorryi’msorryi’msorry—PLEASE!” he whines, hoping that you’d take mercy on someone like him.

and finally, you do.

you were a kind angel after all, unlike him.

you rip the blindfold off of him, welcomed with his perfectly debauched face before lifting his legs over your shoulders—he really was flexible!—and taking the cock ring off, reveling in his beautifully demolished state.

“what do you say?”

“THANK YOU! thankyouthankyooou—fuckfuck FUCK!” he sucked in a breath before a long drawn out cry tumbles past his cracking lips, and for once, you like what’s coming out of his mouth.

with your word, adam finds his release, falling from his already corrupted grace. his eyes roll back like he’s died once more, his body, once so animated and jumpy, now stiff for a brief second as he rides his high.

you grab his chin, forcing him to look at you with that glazed over look in his eyes. you don’t even know if he can see you, but the action alone made him groan weakly in response.

“know your place.” you say, releasing his chin.

adam, once so full of himself, nods in agreement, sniffling as he tries to stop his crying.

a lesson well done, you think.

sorry if the words get repetitive ive been having headaches the past few days 😭 ill pull out my thinking cap soon

tags— @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx

[silantryoo]

ENCHANTED [ WRITTEN ] — a nice day

the first meeting

WARNINGS: implications of stalking, mild self-objectification, implied trauma (2.4k)

y/n knew what she was doing was incredibly stupid.

she wasn't born with the cautiousness that alluded her mom. she was just as reckless, if not more. y/n could've changed her last name when her mom gave her the chance to, but she chose to wear it like a badge instead. she could've moved to the states with her uncle like he wanted, but she chose to stay right here with her mom.

she knew she was reckless, she knew she was stupid.

y/n had to be, considering she wanted to be in the industry that stole her mom away.

"what am i doing...?"

y/n looked at herself in the mirror. her eyes, dark and dull, swirled with their usual anxiety and fear as if anticipating the worst. she felt it all over her body - her head and chest heavy.

there were only two outcomes to this: kazuha was actually an idol that looked like moomin, or kazuha was a thirty-year-old man trying to catch a scoop on her mother.

(y/n didn't know why, but the possibility of kazuha being kazuha made it worth the risk.)

"mom is gonna kill me."

she was pathetic.

it was funny actually. being stood up by a stranger shouldn't have hurt as much as being stood up by her mom, but y/n could feel her lungs closing in on themselves as she waited.

each moment she waited, she felt like she was wilting. like a cold, harsh winter had taken refuge inside her, never settling down. the air she breathed was frost, and her delicate lungs were always on the verge of collapsing.

y/n looked at her phone. kazuha (or whoever it was) was twenty minutes late.

"i'm gonna kick minji's ass."

maybe it was a sign from the universe, that she needed to haul her ass out of there that instant. perhaps the adorably bright-eyed idol she thought was real was actually just a loser reporter with a microphone shoved up their ass and a notebook in hand.

y/n fiddled with her mask, the hot air hitting her eyes.

she's not upset that kazuha probably ditched her. no, of course not. kazuha was an idol, and if she knew anything about them, they were always in it for money and fame. granted, her friends were almost all idols and weren't like that but still.

she wasn't upset, really.

the breeze blew a bit too hard, the trees rustling in the wind as leaves tumbled pathetically onto the ground. y/n could hear the soft chirping of a bird around her, drowned out by the cars. the sun hid like everything in her life did, yet today, it still gave her the comfort she needed.

it was a nice day to be disappointed.

"y/n?" the voice was pretty, soft like snow, but warm like a fireplace. "you're y/n, right?"

a strong grip, one from trained hands.

y/n opened her eyes, her head tilting up to look at the woman in front of her.

the woman had a smile drawn like the cartoons, big and expressive and apologetic. she seemed out of breath, her hair tousled and cheeks flushed like she had been running. and her eyes...

she does look like moomin.

"kazuha?"

kazuha perked up at the sound of her name. she felt a cold shiver run along her spine, like a chilly gust of wind during fall.

"yeah, uh, sorry i'm so late!" kazuha cleared her throat as best as she could, trying not to sound too out of breath. "my unnie was helping me get dressed, then my other members came in and started using me as a barbie doll. i actually almost came with this really weird hat that looked like an angry bird."

plain dark eyes stared back into kazuha's. the idol could barely see them, hidden behind the shadow of her baseball cap.

actually, kazuha waited to approach her for a couple minutes, unsure that this random girl dressed in all black with a cap and mask on was actually the one she was supposed to meet.

the idol looked her over once more, ignoring the inkling of disappointment at not being able to see her entire face.

(she'd still brag to the rest of le sserafim - mostly chaewon - that y/n did exist.)

silence took over the two still strangers(?), the sound of the wind and the singular bird in the distance filling the empty space. the sun begins to shine a bit brighter, the sound of cars approaching in the distance.

kazuha takes another look at the shorter girl in front of her.

"why are you dressed as batman?"

"huh?"

kazuha froze, not meaning to say the words she just said.

sakura had told her to not let yunjin be near her before her meet-up with y/n. she had a tendency to copy their mannerisms when she was nervous, and the more she was exposed to it...

the wind blew harder.

"nothing." her ears rang as her cheeks burned. "never mind."

kazuha was definitely gonna explode once she got back to her dorms. she'd probably get chaewon to use a fire extinguisher on her, or maybe eunchae to dump a bag of ice on her head. hopefully, they wouldn't make too much fun of her for mentioning something nerdy on her date.

wait, this isn't even a date.

the idol looked at the sky, the rays blinding her. in that moment, she wished to be a leaf, blown away to (hopefully) a different continent. somewhere like japan would be nice, that way she could run to her parents and talk about the atrocious not-date she had that lasted five minutes. her dad would probably make her onigiri with too much rice in it like usual. speaking of rice, she needed to remind chaewon to stop eating all of her-

"were you talking about...?" y/n pointed to her mask, kazuha's eyes snapping back onto the girl in front of her. "oh, this is just a precaution."

it was the least y/n could do, considering she put her mom's career in danger again.

"oh." thoughts swirled inside kazuha's head, a long list of possibilities, both out of reach and self-deprecating. "for what?"

the two stared at each other, waiting for an answer to be spoken. yet, as reckless as the young kwon was, she wasn't stupid. sure, she met up with a random person on the internet that she met three weeks ago. maybe she did it because she thought the random girl claiming to be an idol was cute. and yeah, she did meet this stranger in a secluded park but regardless.

a secret was something you'd take to the grave.

y/n cleared her throat, a twisted sort of guilt stirring in her chest.

"let's go get food."

she walked off, the clouds following her every step along with the idol beside her. her legs moved as if they had a purpose, yet the only thing on her mind was who her blood belonged to.

it belonged to the kwon's, for one. her grandparents, her uncles, her mom. she was their little flower, their princess. the prized possession hidden from sight, enough to be valued but never to be spoken of. she wasn't the black sheep by any means, but more like a dog in a wolf pack.

then, there was the media. dispatch and sbs and whatever news outlet was out there with her description. to them, kwon y/n was a rumor, the headline of the biggest scandal of the kpop industry. her blood was ivory to them - a rare, heafty bounty with fame to spare.

y/n wondered what it would be like to belong to herself, or at least to someone who wouldn't hide her.

"you're prettier in real life." kazuha spoke, looking at the ground with her lips pursed.

this was awkward. the last ten minutes were filled with the sounds of daytime seoul - honking cars and mindless chatter around them. it gave kazuha ample time to check out look at the younger girl beside her, like one of yunjin's creepy dates from the stories she told.

"you can barely see me."

"i mean, yeah, but like..." kazuha hoped she wasn't being creepy. "y'know?"

y/n nodded, going back to whatever she was thinking before.

kazuha knew she should've brought her '100 jokes in korean' book. she didn't get half of the jokes in them - granted, she didn't get half the jokes she knew in her mother tongue - but as long as y/n was having a good time, kazuha knew she would too.

if only chaewon didn't confiscate it...

"so, uh..." kazuha cleared her throat. "you go to hanlim?"

the shorter girl stopped in her tracks, looking at the idol. her blood froze in her veins like a cold tundra had washed over her being.

"...how do you know that?"

her tone was thin and sharp, a blade ready to cut into the nearest enemy. y/n's eyes now gleamed with hostility, her plain irises now alert like a cat.

"in the photo." kazuha didn't know what was going on, but she was sure she messed up just now. "the photo you sent to me? your blazer. uh, the crest?"

the idol's hands moved around flimsily, drawing a square-like shape near her chest.

oh.

y/n was an idiot.

"i thought i covered that."

but then again, y/n was too busy trying to find a good-looking picture of her. considering that jinsol and hana kept taking photos of her annoying the shit out of jungwon, it was safe to say that her options were limited.

"you didn't."

the two continued to walk, the air feeling light through y/n's chest. her fingers buzzed with the knowledge that kazuha knew more than y/n wanted her to, running up her arm and sitting on her throat like poorly tightened tie.

her mom was going to ground her for the rest of eternity, if she found out, of course.

"are you okay?" kazuha's voice stumbled in her ears, clumsy yet caring. "uh, you look like you're gonna pass out."

"yeah, i'm fine." the younger girl took a breath, the light breeze carrying the smell of freshly grown petals.

y/n's head snapped towards the scent, her eyes zeroing in on the stand. mismatched bouquets littered the wooden shelves, mostly pastels, yet all eye-catching.

"you like flowers?"

"yeah." y/n didn't realize she was walking towards the stand until she was face to face with a pretty pink flower. "my mom, she would give me the ones she got all the time."

her hand moved on its own, gripping an out-of-place flower from the rest of the tulips. it looked weirdly valuable, its stem delicately wrapped in parchment paper and its petals free of dust. on the front, a sticker of '₩80000' was pinned neatly.

y/n took a sniff, the soft alluring scent nothing like she smelt before.

it was different from the roses and tulips and carnations, like a lone blackbird in a sea of swans.

"what does it smell like?"

kazuha leaned over slightly, her shadow blocking the bright sun just enough to shield y/n.

y/n hummed, rubbing the petals between the pads of her fingers.

"peaches."

the younger girl held the flower up for kazuha to take in, the idol's eyes wide with hesitation. the leaves and debris tumbled beneath them, the wind blowing strong for a moment before calming down.

kazuha leaned her head lower.

peaches.

"you two better not wreck that flower!" the two jolted up, y/n rushing to it back. "do you know how expensive that is?!"

kazuha stared wide-eyed, suddenly stiff like a tree.

a couple months after she debuted, she had already gotten in trouble? surely, this would be a scandal, and all the hard work she and the rest of the girls did would be overturned.

beside her, y/n stared at the broken stem.

"oh shit."

the old woman walked closer, her eyes burning as her precious (and overpriced, y/n thought) flower was no longer its usual pristine self. it had snapped under the pressure y/n had given it.

but she wasn't gonna pay more eighty thousand won for a single flower.

y/n grabbed kazuha's wrist.

"run."

the woman got closer, grabbing what seemed to be a rolled-up wad of newspaper.

"maybe we should apologiz–"

it wasn't the first time y/n got an ajumma mad.

"run!"

kazuha prided herself on being athletic. aside from being an idol, the japanese girl had a strict regimen that she had perfected during her years of ballet. it took blood, sweat, and tears to perfect, and not once did she doubt her abilities, not even next to the almost equally versed huh yunjin.

still, she had never needed to outrun the media.

the taller girl could feel herself being dragged along as the loud cussing of the older woman faded behind them. she could barely keep up, if not the wind pushing them along.

was this how birds felt like? she thought.

the two stopped minutes after, nowhere near where the area they agreed to meet up on, and even further from the ajumma then they had realized.

as she stared at the idol, y/n could feel hot air radiating around her.

"i'm gonna get in trouble with management." kazuha managed to puff out, her chest heaving and her hair tousled like before.

"yeah," y/n dropped her mask down to her chin, taking in the air. "you are."

pretty...

the leaves around them rustled, breeze picking up to cool the two off. kazuha could feel her skin losing heat, but her thoughts ran like a hamster on a wheel, thinking about all the possible outcomes from that encounter.

it was probably fine, the general public had no clue who le sserafim was, much less kazuha, that other japanese girl next to the miyawaki sakura.

she was fine, she was-

y/n laughed.

"sorry, sorry!" she couldn't help it. the way kazuha's face twisted in worry was so animated that it made her imagine the older girl as moomin. "just give me a sec."

kazuha broke out into a grin as the pretty girl in front of her laughed and laughed, the ice-cold tension melting off of her in the rays of the sun. the birds chirped in the distance, the lack of honking near them making it loud enough to register in her ears.

it was a nice day today.

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[pxuvalentinx]

Atta girl ✧ High Noon Yone x fem!reader tw: degradation, creampie, abuse (i think??), spanking, forced breeding, dub con (if theres anything else let me know<3) an: i wrote this a while ago when hn yone got first leaked, so if any new lore dropped - i wouldn't know. ✧ ˚ 　· 　　 . You swore to yourself that you’d kill every single one of those damn devils — without a single exception. You promised to avenge all the poor souls that got killed by those who made a pact with a devil. Not only that, but you’d give your life to free the west from its curse. It was the least you could do after failing so miserably to save others. So why were you bent over the saloon counter while a man rutted into you? Why were you moaning and whining his name? The name of a man who had made a pact with a devil. Bounty hunter Yone. Such an ironic title when you consider that there’s a high bounty on him as well. He hated devils, too — more than anything. His hatred took him so far that he became one of them. And god, you were thankful for it. Your thoughts were clearly getting manipulated by your tight cunt that was squeezing around his girth so deliciously that it made him growl into your ear. He wasn’t even trying to be quiet — the saloon might’ve been empty, but he wanted everyone to hear that walked by, how he was fucking this once so proud and snobbery woman into his little bitch. How she slowly became his dumb slut. Yone’s hands were on your hips as he thrusted into you from behind, pressing his pelvis against your ass while he leaned forward to whisper sweet nothings into your ear. One hand wandered up your throat, grabbing your chin with it and pulling your head back. His lips were barely two inches away from yours — “Aren’t ya just so pathetic?” He purred. “Just half an hour ago ya were soooo confident about killin’ me, tellin’ me how much ya hated ‘my kind’, how selfish I am, and now… You’re soakin’ and suckin’ in my cock like it’s ya’s life purpose.” The low growl in his voice was making your walls flutter around his dick. You hated to admit how good this felt. His hands were cold, freezing even. They sent shivers down your spine with every touch. He had this frightening and overwhelming aura that seemed to become more distinct with every thrust. His hand let go of your face after he saw the tears roll down your cheeks, proud of his work. From the corner of your eye, you could see his cocky grin. 

squeeze 

“Oh, fuck…!” He cursed. “Makes you this horny? Nasty bitch. Gon’ teach ya a lesson… Make…Ah~ ya regret facin’ me.” Your walls kept pulsating around his cock, massaging all of it like your cunt was made for him. It was driving him crazy, low grunts escaping his throat. 

He spread your ass cheeks with his two broad hands - one gloved. Groans of satisfaction as he looked at the sight. Letting go of one and giving it a hard smack right after, leaving a stinging pain which made you whine out. Music to his ears. Another smack. 

And another.

And another. 

“That ass already looked good in those tight ass jeans ya were wearin’ - but I didn’t expect it to look this good without ‘em” He could feel himself getting harder at the sight, growing even bigger inside of you. “Gon’ make you ride me next time. Want to see that pretty ass bounce on my fat cock. Better show me how much of a cowgirl ya truly are.” 

You turned your face to him, where he was already looking at you with the same cocky smile he had before. The pale skin in combination with his flaming orange eyes made your heart skip a beat. You never thought you’d think of a devil as handsome. Tears were streaming down your face as he continued to abuse your cunt to the best of his abilities. 

Yasuo warned you of him — No, everyone warned you of him, but you didn’t want to listen. You were so confident in being able to defeat him, in being able to get one step closer to peace in the west. And here you were, squirming underneath him, sobbing because his cock just hits all the right spots too damn good, begging him to fuck you harder, to abuse your cunt just a little more because in reality you were a pathetic masochist, who loved that he treated you like a piece of fuck meat. You were begging him to fill you up with his hot seed, to make a mess out of you and your cunt - to mark it as his. 

You didn’t care about the peace of the west anymore. All you could think about was Yone’s cock buried deep inside your pussy while his hands were kneading your ass in such a nice but rough manner. You wanted to cum all over his dick again and again and again. 

“Oh shit, darlin’ - gonna cum. Gon’ fill your tiny little pussy with my seed, ya want that? Fuck~ Tell me how badly ya want it, sweetheart. Tell me how badly ya want to get bred by me.” Yone commanded, the same low husky tone as before. 

Oh, how much this man turned you on, with his stupid low voice and his stupid grunts. “Yo- Ah~ Fuck… Please…fill me up…” 

“Atta girl!” 

His sloppy thrusts eventually ended up in him burying himself deep inside you, filling you up with all he has. The twitching feeling of his cock and the noises he made really hit you hard, making you squirt around him, ruining his chaps. Soft whines and pants leaving your lips. Yone threw his head back at the feeling, his hat almost falling off his head.  A split second before he pulled his cock out, looking at his cum oozing out of your cunt. Yours and his fluids were mixing together on the floor. He slurred out some quiet words, while spreading your pussy to really take in the view. "Think ya can take another round?"

[caratheewriter]

"I'll follow you down 'til the sound of my voice will haunt you" - Aegon Targaryen II x Cousin! reader

Synopsis: After the events of the disagreement of Driftmark's succession, such as the "unfortunate" death of Vaemond Valeryon, the family indulges in a nice dinner where you give your cousin an offer he shouldn't refuse.

Rating: PG-13

Warning(s): attempted manipulation (my girl almost had him fr).

Word Count: 809

You are seated at your father's left side, patiently waiting. You and your father, Daemon, glance at each other. He looks at you in discontent and you give him a look, he knows you won't let up.

King Viserys stands, well more like leans on the table, and speaks, "How good it is... to see you all tonight... together."

"Prayer before we begin?"

"Yes."

The Queen Alicent begins to pray, "May the Mother smile down on this gathering with love. May the Smith mend the bonds that have been broken for far too long."

You rolled your eyes. What does she thinks she's doing?

"And to Vaemond Velaryon, may the gods give him rest."

You snicker at the last remark, may the gods give him hell. Vaemond was out of his mind.

"This is an occasion for celebration, it seems. My grandsons, Jace and Luke, will marry their cousins, Baela and Rhaena, further strengthening the bond between our houses. A toast to the young Princes... and their betrothed."

You smile, proud of your sisters and how they've grown. "Hear, hear!"

Aegon leans over to whisper to Jace, "Well done, Jace. You'll finally get to lie with a woman."

Baela takes a drink and looks at him in annoyance. She then turns to look at you. You make eye contact. Do not worry, dear sister. He'll get his due.

You take a look at your cousin. How pathetic? Your women will chew him up and spit him out. Not before you have your turn, of course.

"Let us toast as well to Prince Lucerys... the future Lord of the Tides.

"Hear, hear."

Aegon leans over to Jace, once again.

"You do know how the act is done, I assume? At least in principle? Where to put your cock and all that."

"Let it be, cousin."

"You can play the jester if you wish, but hold your tongue before my betrothed."

Aegon hums in fake agreeance. You zone out halfway, coming back seeing Jace take Helaena to dance. You see your father nod in your peripheral. You move to Jace's seat and lean to whisper in Aegon's ear.

"Dearest cousin, I heard of the little situation with a servant girl this morning."

Aegon looks at you. Why the hell are you talking to him?

"What of it, cousin."

"I- It must feel so restricting. Not being able to do what you truly want, having to marry someone you feel no love for."

"Well, I don't see a man at your side, cousin. Did you scare them off."

"Quite the contrary, Aegon. Unlike all these other ladies of the court, I don't need a man at my side to have power. I'm free to bed whoever I want, whenever I want."

Aegon grits his teeth at your clear mocking, "How lucky you are, Y/n."

You smirk internally. Hook, Line, and Sinker. "I could help you, of course. The women of Dorne love men like you, cousin. Princely, Silver-haired, Targaryen. Personally, I like my men: pathetic... and good for one thing."

You lean closer. Your lips grazing his ear, "I could take you away from here. To Dorne. You'd be away from all of this. Away from your mother, who seems to only care about image. You'd be free, Aegon."

He looks at you, his eyes growing desperate. He's actually considering it.

Just then, a servant sets a roasted pig down. Lucerys chuckles. Aemond hits the table, anger evident. He stands, goblet in hand.

"Final tribute. To the health of my nephews: Jace... Luke... and Joffrey. Each of them handsome, wise... hm.... strong."

"Aemond."

"Come... let us drain our cups to these three... Strong boys."

Jace gets in Aemond's face, "I dare you say that again."

"Why? Was only a compliment. Do you not think yourself Strong?"

Jace punches Aemond as Luke gets up and Aegon slams his head on the table. You look the boys in disgust. One normal night. Just one, please?

"Why would you say such a thing before these people?"

"I was merely expressing how proud I am of my family, Mother. Mm, though it seems my nephews aren't quite as proud of theirs."

Rhaenyra turns to Jace, Luke, and your sisters, "Go to your quarters. All of you go, now."

Your father looks at you expectantly. You whisper in Aegon's ear one last time, "Seems as though you are happy here, cousin. Being a nuisance. Forever at the beck and call of your mother and grandsire."

You leave him, walking over to your father and Rhaenyra, "Goodnight, Father, Rhaenyra." You retreat to your chambers.

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

As Aegon stands in front of the people, having been crowned King, he thinks back to your words. The offer sounding so convincing. If only he hadn't acted out, then maybe the sound of your voice and your sweet words wouldn't haunt him.

fin.

Oh. My. God. I don't know if I love or hate this because I straight pulled this out of my ass.

Also for further context, you are Daemon's oldest daughter. Your mother is one of the eldest children of Qoren Martell and the reason why you aren't married is because you really don't need a husband. Your mother has a twin brother and so you will rule alongside your cousin as it is not known which one of them came first.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Three for One 9

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, cheating, customer service abuse, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: As a customer service associate, you’re used to work with a wide variety of characters. Your efforts to go above and beyond draw the attention of a certain set of customers who want more than what’s on the shelf.

Character: Andy Barber, Lloyd Hansen, Ransom Drysdale

Note: No more work but we gonna werk.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me 💞

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

Ransom pushes you back, slipping free from between your tits. He catches you by the back of the neck as he grabs his dick, pumping himself as he groans. You brace yourself, squeezing your eyes shut as his voice gets louder.

He finishes in hot spurts string across your face that make your skin crawl. You scrunch your nose as the chlorine-like smell tinges your nose. Your entire body threatens to revolt. It’s more than the act itself, it’s the humiliation.

He sighs and lets you go. You want to wipe your face off but you can’t bear to touch it. You lean back on your heels and hover your hand in front of you, trying to breath through the swell of nausea. A hand clasps around your wrist, tugging it away as you’re dragged back towards the tree. You stumble on your knees, flicking your lashes as the sticky glaze cools on your skin.

“Next,��� Lloyd insists as a growl rises from behind you.

“Be nice,” Andy girds. His words mean nothing. He could stop this but he won’t. He won’t because he’s just like them. He wants this.

“Please, I don’t want–”

“I didn’t want a face full of Gucci garbage,” Lloyd bends over you with a snicker, “too fucking bad, isn’t it?”

You wince and lean away from him. Your first meeting flashes in your mind. You recall a similar state, being sprayed in the face unceremoniously. You shudder as he lets you go, a small shove on the back of your head.

You extend your arm as Ransom’s soft groans continue between mellowing breaths. This is deranged. These men are twisted and, as pathetic as they are, terrifying. You grab a small box from the pile and shakily lean back.

Lloyd hovers behind you as you sense the gazes of the others. You have no hope. Whoever it is doesn’t matter. You slide the bow off and tear the paper away. Your hands work on instinct as you try to prepare yourself, try to shut down any emotion.

You shake as you reveal a strangely curved piece of pink silicone visible through the transparent window of the box. Lloyd chuckles and bends to take the disposed bow from beside you. He looks at the tag. 

“Well, well, well, looks like I’m up, but you know what, pussy cat,” he looms over you, “that one’s for you. I got it fully charged so why don’t you pop that in?”

You turn and look at him from the corner of your eye, not straight on. You consider the box again and the toy. It’s one of those hands free vibrators designed for couples. The woman wears it as the man controls it.  The box buzzes and you drop it. It stops when it hits the floor.

You gasp and look above you as Lloyd has his phone in hand, “you’re getting off easy. Literally.” He smirks down at you, “what’s the matter, you need help?”

You gulp and shake your head, “n-no.”

You swipe up the box, picking open the cardboard box and slides out the plastic insert. The little instruction pamphlet is missing, confirming that he’s already gone in and opened it. You roll the toy in your hand, the flimsier part wobbling back and forth.

You lower your head and raise yourself on your knees. You pull the elastic of your panties as you angle the toy down the front. You bite down as you widen your legs, pushing your ass out as you lean forward slightly. It’s awkward as the men elicit snarling noises in response.

You find yourself wet. That startles you. It eases the insertion as the full part glides into you and settles snugly inside. You fix the curved stem and rest the little round nub against your clit. With your hand still down your panties, the toy vibes, just once and makes you squeak.

“Works,” Lloyd snorts.

You quiver and inhale, tenderly sitting back on your heels as you grip your thighs. Your eyes sting. You won’t cry. 

“Next,” Lloyd demands before the silence can sink in. 

He nudges you with his velvet loafer and you flinch. You shuffle on your knees again and grab a gift bag. The men behind you shift eagerly. You don’t even open the present and just read the tag. Fuck.

“Lloyd,” you croak.

“Ha,” Lloyd claps, “luck’s on my side,” he taunts, “looks like fate wants me to fuck that throat.”

“The present…” Andy suggests.

“Yeah, whatever,” Lloyd spins on his heel and struts away, sitting at the edge of the couch, “open it then get your butt over here, sweet stuff.”

You shake your head and reach into the gift bag. You pull out a medallion necklace set into the red box. It has diamonds encrusted around the edge. You know it’s not cheap.

“You can put that on too,” Lloyd sneers as you hear his zipper slice through the tension.

You pull free the necklace and hook it around your neck. You push the packaging away and fall forward onto your hands. You can barely keep yourself moving as your mind hazes. The surrealness threatens to paralyse you.

You turn and crawl across the carpet.

“Mmm, yeah, pussy cat, come to me,” Lloyd teases.

You ignore the scalding wave that flows over you. You try to block out the room, the watching eyes, and the man who orders you around like an animal. The animal you crawl around like. 

You approach him as he pulls his dick out above his parents, knees wide as he gives a crooked grin. He lets his hard length flop back against his stomach as he sits back and bends his arm behind his head. He winks and looks down as he bites his lip.

“I think I owe you a taste, pussy cat,” he says, “Merry Christmas to me.”

You lift yourself up. Ransom’s silhouette moves in your peripheral as the armchair creaks out of your sight. The twitch of Lloyd’s dick makes your stomach curdle as he proudly repeats the trick. You put your hand around him and close your eyes, inching closer.

Your lips stop just over the tip of his dick. His hard, thick length bulges in your grip. You press your mouth to him and swallow back another tide of revulsion. You want it over with but given the amount of presents waiting under the tree, it might never end.

You open up to him slowly, coaxing yourself through the act. The salty trick that smears on your tongue threatens to flip your insides. You squeeze him and he groans, slapping the cushion beside him.

“Fuck, the grip on her,” he rasps and your eyes flick open.

His hand slides down as you urge your mouth down halfway, then back again. You’re not sure you can take all of him. He retrieves his phone from beside him. A sudden rumble awakens inside of you. The toy rattles you completely as you nearly choke.

Your teeth graze him and you still, trying to set yourself straight, dangling on your worst intentions. You could sink right in and listen to him scream. He swats the side of your head and ramps up the vibe.

“You fucking bite me and I promise you’ll be sorry,” he growls. You believe him. You’re not just being good for yourself but in that moment, you have to focus on you.

You push back down, your reflex threatening to trigger. Back up and you take a breath. The vibrator shakes you, adding to the torment, splitting you between pleasure and disgust. You slide back down and a weight spreads across your skull. Lloyd pushes you until you gag around him. He groans as your throat constricts.

“Mmm, you’re getting close, aren’t you?” He purrs, guiding your rhythm as he fists your hair. “I’m not feeding you ‘til you cum.”

Your eyes round and you let them roll back and close as they wet. You focus on your breath, not what you’re doing, not what you’re feeling. His hand slows your motion on him as you squeeze your legs together. The pulse intensifies, the small nub against your clit stirring your nerves. Come on, come on, almost there.

You moan, once, twice, again. Your body starts to quiver, you can’t help it. Even as he laughs, even as he rams you back down on his dick and nearly suffocates you. You’re swept up in the swirl of sensations.

Your body spasms as your orgasm flows over. You drool down his dick as he pulls you back then forces you back down. Fuck, it shouldn’t feel good. You hate it but the release is unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. The release of pressure leaks out of your, soaking your thighs as you keep them taut.

“Oh fuck, you like tasting me,” he purrs, “hm, you want more? Huh?’

You’re weak as he uses you, rocking your head as he grips it between his large hands. The wet noises of your mouth deafen you as you taste his anticipation. Feel it throbbing in him.

He grunts and slips a hand down to cradle his sack. You groan as he stills you, thrusting from below again as he leans his shoulders back into the couch. He fucks your mouth as he lets out a long rumble, cumming down your throat as he quakes. 

He keeps going until your mouth is sloppy and your saliva mingles with his cum as it smears around your lips. He pulls you off him and you cough, covering your mouth as you spit up into it. He purrs and sways his leg in bliss as he rubs his chest.

“Fuck,” he growls as he looks down at himself and you blink away the haze, “these are designer.”

The fabric around the open fly of his pants is wet with your excess. You wipe your mouth, the filth across your face and pasty in your throat once more sickening you. Reality seeps back in as your head lolls and the tree lights blur in your vision.

“Next…” Andy prompts in a hoarse mutter.

You lean back until you fall onto your ass. You’re dizzy. You don’t know how much more you can take. Ransom gets up and you watch him snatch up two presents from under the tree. He drops them into your lap.

“Let’s turn things up,” Ransom declares as he stands over you, pants hanging slack from his hips.

You can hardly think. You just look down and set to opening the presents; another pair of earrings; rose gold hoops, and a bracelet with pearls. The tags tangle together and you read the names in a shaky squeak; Lloyd, Ransom. A long sigh from the armchair.

“Let’s start with these,” Lloyd pushes your shoulder so you fall onto your hands. He grabs your hips and lifts them, tearing your panties down your thighs. “I didn’t get to finish my breakfast.”

You’re guided around senselessly by the pair. Lloyd gets down on his back, a couch pillow under his head as he brings you down to straddle him. He moves the stem of the toy to the crease of your leg and slides his tongue between your folds. The vibrator continues to buzz as he adds to the overwhelming thrum.

Ransom pulls off his woolly sweater, tossing it onto the couch before he nears. He grabs your chin and forces your head up. His dick hangs out of his pants, limp but subtly twitching.

“Tell you what, you don’t even have to get me off,” he snickers, “just get me going.”

He mashes your face into his crotch. You open your mouth and your spit leaks out onto his soft dick. You reach for him, moving his tip between your lips. Your tongue works thoughtlessly, mimicking the one on your clit, swirling and flicking as weak moans escape you.

Ransom hardens in your grip, little by little until you can get a firm grasp. You suck on his tip until he purrs. Lloyd wiggles his head under you, pulling your down by his hips as he laps and a suckles. 

Your hips buck as your climax takes over. You cum again, heart racing, breath hitching as your head spins. Every muscle aches as your lungs burn. You don’t know if you can keep up. The thought that this is only the beginning is enough to exhaust you.

There’s a rustle beyond your purview. Your eyes search but you can’t see past Ransom. A shadow appears at your side. Andy stands over you and rips wrapping paper away from a box. He shows you the Coach gift set, the same one you sold him. 

“Me,” he proclaims, voice edged with frustration.

“That’s cheating,” Ransom puffs out as he frames your head between his hands.

“I don’t fucking care,” Andy snarls and snatches your hand, bringing it up to the front of his pants. Lloyd chuckles into your cunt from below. 

Another zipper descends and your hand encircles thick flesh. Hard veins press into your palm as your arm is pumped, a tight grip on your wrist. You shut your eyes and dissolve into the madness of the moment.

The heat of their bodies storms around you, roiling with that radiating off of you. Your throat turns raw from the rampant intrusion, your cunt pulses with overstimulation, and your hand chafes on the hard dry flesh. All control slips beyond you as the men take over, each guiding you to their whim.

Your gulping, gagging moans rise into the air, lost amid their groans and grunts. Hands pawing at you, hips rocking, mouths moving. Bodies tangle together in the throes of depravity, dissembling the last of your reticence, trapping you in a helpless apathy.

[bau-drabbles]

best friends

a/n: this is my first fic in this fandom so i apologise if it seems a little out of character and incredibly rushed in the chapter but i just wanted to write a lil cute moment for spencer :)

i hope you enjoy and requests are open if you'd like to send something! 🤍

"This is so incredibly frustrating" Spencer muttered to Morgan who wrinkled his nose at he smelt the perfumes on the counter tops.

"C'mon genius there must be something here she likes. She's your mom, it should be easy" Morgan sighed and continued to prod the bottles while the Doc rubbed his forehead to ease some tension.

These headaches of his came in far more frequently and pained more then he cared to say. But his thoughts were interrupted by a ringtone and he looked at Derek who glanced down at his phone. He looked relieved to see it, hiding his micro expression from the other quickly.

But Spencer knew, he always did

"Ah I'll be back, give me a few minutes" He had already made his escape, eager to answer the call.

"Morgan... " Spencer rolled his eyes and went back to looking at the perfumes. They were all heavy on his nose and the workers were looking at him, expecting him to pay already. He had been way too long for someone browsing for an item.

The lights were harsh on his eyes and he sighed again in frustration, rubbing his temple. He walked forwards to a different counter, stumbling as his foot hit a bag.

"Sorry I-" He looked in front and there you were, stepping a few steps back to create some distance. So many words he wanted to say but not a single one passed his lips. That was until he glanced down and realised he probably tripped your bag.

You looked at him finally, your brows furrowed at the intrusion but it went slightly when you see the curly haired man stuttering an apology to you. You thought that was that and you turn away but he lingers a little longer than most would, internally debating with himself to say the next following words.

"Can I help you?" You tilt your head slightly, ready to guide him to someone else. Setting down the perfume in your hand, your eyes glance upon his. He seems desperate either to buy the gift or to get of the store, you didn't know.

"Um, I apologise but... you.... you're a woman right?" He sets down the perfumes in his hands and you nod, shrugging your bag on your shoulder

"10/10 observation" By the looks of his unruly curls and the stress lines on his forehead, you conclude he's present shopping for someone clearly rather important to him. It was sweet in a way. He cared so much about them.

"Do you need help?" You perk your eyebrow in curiosity, looking at the staff members that were all around.

"Sorry, I just... I know this sounds incredibly pathetic but it's my mothers birthday. And I have no idea what to get her. I don't suppose- I mean you're probably busy-" Spencer rambled, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck. He had anticipated your rejection and he wanted nothing more than the ground to swallow him whole.

"So are you asking for my advice?" You clarified, chuckling a little. You see the look of relief that washes over his features.

"It's just that you seem like a well dressed woman and I need an honest opinion. Of course if you have places to be-" "No I can spare a few minutes, what does she like?" You don't particularly know why you help him, considering that you were also in a slight rush and needed to leave. But something about this man planted your feet in front of him, something about him you didn't know, forced you to stay.

"Roses, I think? But then there are so many that smells like flowers" He looked aghast at the perfumes bottles, his brain unable to comprehend which would be the better candidate for his mom.

"Well the one you're holding is more of a day perfume. Is there a reason why you're getting her a perfume, has she asked for it?" You inquired and he helplessly shrugged his shoulders a little. Blushing ever so slightly he rambled a little embarrassed by his lack of knowledge.

"No? Just women.... like perfume right?" Spencer awkwardly scratched the back of his neck, glancing to the floor in shame.

"Is it obvious I'm hopelessly pathetic?" He murmured, toying with the lid. He dares to make eye contact with you and you stare at him, giving a reassuring look.

"You want me to be honest?" "Slightly regretting it now"

"Most women at her age have a signature scent. Perhaps get her something like a scarf or a bag, something she can adorn alongside her own style?" You suggested, gesturing to the side. He didn't actually expect honesty that was actually beneficial let alone something he would actually consider and use.

"Thank you, that's really helpful" Spencer smiled and he turned his head towards the aisle, his lips dropping slightly as he saw the overwhelming amount of accessories.

You could've made your escape but yet you found yourself standing to his side, speaking once more.

"Do..... you need help picking out something?" "Please"

•••

"So the red or the brown?" "The red, it's beautiful" The silken scarf shone under the spotlight in the store and he gives you a thankful grin, quickly paying for his item. You turned to grab your bag as he comes back to you

"I just want to say thank you so much for taking time to save me from my own incompetence. I really appreciated it" He smiled softly and you felt your heart aching a little. The amount of time you spent with this man was so short and yet it felt like hours and hours, like you already knew him somehow.

"You're welcome...." You trail off just now remembering you hadn't caught his name and he sticks his palm out for you to shake. How easy he was to capture in a conversation, so interesting and yet you felt like there was so much more depth to him then he let on.

"Spencer" He speaks gently, your fingers graze his as he holds your hand. Such a common greeting yet it felt intimate to you. It felt personal, it felt right.

"Y/N. And you're welcome, it was lovely meeting you. I do hope your mom enjoys the gift" Your heart already hurts leaving him but you barely even know him so you turn away, knowing this interaction was going to stay for a while.

"W-wait..." He touches your shoulder and you turn around, the feeling of butterflies invading your body as he retracts his hand.

"Forgive the forwardness but perhaps you'd like to go out for some coffee? That is, if you're not busy. Of course if you are I-" You interrupt his rambling, unable to hide the small giggle that escapes your lips.

"Lead the way" Your lips tilted in a beautiful smile as his replicates its own, a warm feeling invading your body. Whatever this was, you looked forward to knowing. To experiencing.

To loving

[ohtobeleah]

Consider this your final warning for TH&TH

Unlucky for you because I don’t take the threatening behaviour all that well—HERES THE MASTERLIST. Also because I’m nice even though it’s gonna ruin it. You’ve got smut ahead people.

“You good?” Marissa cooed as she leaned down to press her lips seductively against the pulse point of Jake's neck. “C’mon baby I know you got more to give.” Squinting his eyes tight and holding her hips to steady her rhythm, Jake bit the bottom of his lip in frustration. He couldn't keep himself hard. Marissa knew something was wrong, trying to coax him back from the verge of being flaccid inside her. The condom Jake had been sure to wear wrinkling as his shaft softened and his labido died down into almost something non-existent.

“I'm sorry–” Jake sighed as he rolled off the the top, pulling himself out of Marissa before crawling off the bed, reaching down to find his boxers, his jeans, his shirt.

“It's whatever I guess.” Marissa scoffed as she pulled the sheet up to cover herself, sitting up with her knees to get chest. Arms hugging herself. “For someone who talked awfully sure of himself you really didn't walk the walk there.” She tried to lighten the awkwardness of it all, keeping conversation light as she watched Jake dress himself. Discarding the worn condom in the bin. “You got something on your mind or do you reckon the draft beers have something to do with it?”

“I don't know what got into me.” Jake lied, he knew. He knew that Marissa had been the first woman he’d been with since you left. He knew that nothing felt the same, that even when he tried his best to picture you he couldn't keep himself going. He couldn't do it. Looking down at the wedding band he had tattooed on his ring finger, you’d cursed him. You’d left him and in the process of trying his best to get over the woman who had his heart in her hand Jake Seresin was reduced to a puddle of a man. A shadow of his former left. A man who craved affection and touch now touch starved and crying out for someone, anyone to love him, touch him, bring him pleasure the way you did. Nobody compared. That would always be the case. No matter how hard he tried. “I'm usually–”

“Not trying your hardest to imagine someone else?” Marissa finished the sentence Jake wanted to say, sighing with a heavy heart as he sat on the edge of the bed. “For me? Best friend.” Marissa sighed, pressing her lips together. “Who's it for you?” These aren't usually questions you'd ask in the vetting process of a hook-up. Jake chuckled softly to himself as he shook his head. He couldn't believe this was happening right now.

“My ex-wife.” Jake would usually still address you as his wife to most people. But he had to face reality sooner or later. “We, uh, split about nine months ago now. Pretty much no contact except the occasional text.”

“Guess we’re both pretty pathetic huh?” Marissa laughed as she bit her bottom lip, eyes soft and full of sympathy for the man she’d hit on at the bar. Jake nodded softly in agreement, turning to Marissa as she sat in the middle of her bed. Still hugging her knees.

“Honey, you don't even know the half of it.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***

You couldn’t put the letter down. Sitting at your desk it felt like time had stood still. You couldn’t breathe, a persistent ringing in your ears told you that the pressure in your head was becoming too much to handle. Your nose still a little swollen as bruises died down to shades of yellow. Masked well under foundation.

It probably wasn’t one of your most rational decisions ever, but the longer you kept staring at the letter that told you your husband may be a father to another woman’s child—you saw more and more red in your ledger. The number next to the woman’s name looked bold, like it was coaxing you to call it.

Locking your office door, which you never did—you sat on one of the office chairs near the little book nook you had created. Shaking as you dialed the number. Holding your phone up to your ear as it rang and rang and rang—nervously awaiting the moment that a voice would come through on the other side. Secretly wishing, praying that she wouldn’t pick up. But she did.

“Hello Mar speaking?” Huh, she sounded human. It’s not what you’d expected from a woman who had the potential to legitimately ruin whatever remained of your tattered and torn marriage. Holding onto Jake with your nails bleeding and clinging to whatever thread you could. “Hello—?”

“Uh, sorry hi.” You cleared your throat as tears welled in your eyes. “This is uh—“ You couldn’t bring yourself to say it, you didn’t want her to know. It felt almost shameful. Oh so you’re the women who’s husband I fucked? You pictured her saying, laughing down the line with glee. “This is Jake Seresins secretary.” Yep, not your brightest idea. “I'm just calling in regards to a letter he received about a summons for a paternity request and had a few questions if you had time to talk?”

“Oh yeah, sure thing! I'm just in the middle of a feed so I’ve got a few spare minutes—“ You and Jake had technically been separated for a year and a half. A total of five months you’d gone no contact. Only ever reaching out to his mother from time to time to let her know you were in fact alive.

“How sure are you that Mr Seresins the father? He’s happy to do a DNA test but he’s leaving for a brief deployment this afternoon.” So if this potential child were to really be Jakes, doing the quick math in your head. It would have had to have been roughly nine months give or take a few weeks either side for discrepancies. Nine months it took for Jake Seresin to crack under the pressure of being a separated man.

“Oh, I’m like ninety-nine percent sure he’s not the father.” Wait what? That wasn’t the response you were expecting. “We only briefly crossed paths but I had slept with him and another guy in roughly the same week so I just want to know for sure—“ It wasn’t something Marissa McCauley was essentially proud to admit. But it was the truth. Much like Jake—she’d been a kindred spirit, just trying to do whatever it would take to forget the man she loved. She never told him but when she closed her eyes it wasn’t Jake she thought of, it was her best friend. Jake never told Marissa, he didn’t need to—he got the sense she already knew that when he closed his eyes all he saw was you.

“Have you summoned the other party?” You really haven’t noticed when your tears had started falling, all you realised was that your face was wet to the touch when you let your head fall into your hand. Elbow resting on the armchair.

“Absolutely, just waiting to hear back from one of them I guess.” Where had your sanity gone? What the fuck were you doing. “Hey, you’d know, right? If Jake ever got back together with his wife?” You didn’t quite register what Marissa had said until you were choking out your words.

“I’m sorry?” Sitting up a little straighter as you frowned. “What did you just say?”

“His wife, I think I remember him saying her name was Y/n—“ Marissa explained as you chewed on your nail beds on the verge of a mental breakdown. “Our uh, time together wasn’t all that memorable because of the sex, more lack there of really.” You heard through the phone small cries of a newborn, wondering if you'd ever have that with Jake. “But we still did of course have that brief moment so there’s still a chance it could be his son, I’d hate to come between them if they ever worked it out.” a son, there was a possibility Jake, your husband, your best friend since high school–had a fucking son with another woman. That was supposed to be you. Just you. Only you.

“Uh, no I don’t think he did.” Peeling your wedding band off your ring finger in an attempt to feel less claustrophobic. The walls felt like they were giving in, the usually adequate space of your office feeling smaller and smaller with every passing second. Hang on a minute, why was your vision blurry?

“That’s too bad, the guy seemed heartbrok–” Falling to the ground in a heap as you dropped the phone. The emotional toll of the news you'd just been exposed to really taking an affect on your body. Passing out, you didn't have body autonomy over where you flailed. Striking your forehead on the corner of the coffee table before you landed on the floor. Your phone landed somewhere under the table. Disregarded like the woman who had the power to ruin your entire marriage if she wanted to wasn't on the other end of the line. The letter was still sitting on top of the table as blood began to pool into the carpet where you'd smacked your head.

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

“You know, sometimes you can be really smart, Seresin.” Chaos sighed as Rooster disappeared from her sight. “I wouldn't trust any other person with my life, but I don't want him to die saving mine if something were to go wrong.”

“Could’ve just explained it you know–? Frowning, Chaos turned to where Jake stood, shaking her head as she walked away, flipping him the bird over her shoulder.

“You managed three seconds.” Jake couldn't help but to laugh softly as he followed Chaos down the hall– your office coming up around the corner. “You and the lieutenant Commander seem to be on good terms?” Chaos smirked as she felt Jake coming up hot on her tail. “Dunno what she sees in you.”

“I think we all think the same about you and Bradshaw, Kazanzky.” Jake scoffed, frowning slightly when his hand grabbed the door handle of your office to find it locked. Door not budging when he tried to open it. “And we are good–” Jake wasn't going to discuss the ins and outs of his marriage with someone who’d literally punched him in the face a few weeks prior. “God why the hell is her door locked?” giggling the handle jake frowned a little more. Pounding his fist gently on the door. “Hey, Seresin it's me, open up!”

“Geez, what a romantic you are–” Chaos rolled her eyes as she handed Jake a hairpin from her bun. “Move over brawns, let brains over here do the work.” Shoving Jake to the side, Chaos worked to pick the lock on your office door. “This feels borderline illegal, wouldn't she have it locked if she was in like a meeting or something?”

“Y/n has a thing about locked doors, she only ever does it when she has something to hide, like emotions or chocolate she knows I've been looking for.”  

“What if she's fucking an admiral?” Chaos beamed, she knew even the thought would rile Jake Seresin up. Anything to just get under his skin. Jake couldn't stop himself from smacking Chaos softly upside the head as she worked to pick the lock on his wife's office. “Ow!”

“They were both just in their tag teaming you raw.” Jake reminded Chaos of the unrelenting scathing she'd just received about her poor behaviour. Both hearing a pop of the lock, Jake opened the door. His heart sank into the pit of his stomach when he saw you on the ground, head bleeding. Passed out. “Y/N!!”

“Oh god–” Chaos gasped as she raced in after Jake. “What the hell happened in here?”

“Baby, hey? You with me?” Jake cooed as he tapped your cheek and cradled your head in his lap. “Y/n, come on love you gotta wake up for me.” He felt like he couldn't breathe, your head lulled in his hands as your mouth slightly parted. Completely out cold. “No sweetheart don't you do this to me, come on now–” It felt like hours, looking down at you making sure your chest was still rising and falling. Panic riddling all his systems. He couldn't lose you. Chaos worked to pick up the discarded phone from under the coffee table, her eyes landing on the letter sitting on top of a pile of Naval issued magazines. “Baby?” Chaos tapped his shoulder as Jake pulled his eyes away from you reluctantly. “What?”

“You gotta problem keeping your distinguished johnson in your pants or something Seresin, cause I reckon this has something to do with this you fucking idiot.” Handing him the letter and your phone she'd picked up off the floor. Jake took the letter as you began to stir, a gentle groan letting him know you weren't dead in his arms.

“I–” Jake read the letter over and over again, trying to wrap his head around what he was reading. “Fucking hell–” He remembered his night with Marissa, he’d learnt that not even the most despite of men could overcome a one in a million wife. The power you held over him. “If she's got a kid it ain't mine.”

“Fuck off Hangman of course youd be the one to get someone knocked up.” Chaos was furious, it wasn't even her relationship and yet this made her issues with Rooster look like chump change. “You listen and you listen good Hangman–” Chaos crouched down as she assessed your wound. Nothing too deep, just a minor abrasion. “This woman, in any realm or alternative universe, deserves so much more than you could ever give her.” Shoving him back for the slap upside the head he’d given her. “And if this is real? God you better pray that you get picked for this mission–”  Chaos was unrelenting in her opinion of Jake Seresin at this moment. Standing as she sighed, looking down at the blood on your face.

“At least the spawn will end up a gold star kid–” She left before Jake had anything to say. Leaving him to clean up the mess his actions had ultimately caused. Looking down at you as your eyes fluttered open with an ungodly groan. Your head spinning. The last thing you wanted to see was your husband staring down at you from above when you came to. Instead, you got two of him for a moment there.

“Y/n–” Jake cooed with so much love in his voice it made you feel sick.

“Oh don't you dare start.” Sitting up out of Jake's lap as you grabbed the letter from Jake's hand. “I don't wanna hear it.” It wasn't that you weren't ever going to let Jake explain himself, it was more the fact you just didn't wanna hear it right now. Your head hurt too much. “You did this to us—“ Mumbling as you stood, wobbly legs almost forcing you down to your knees again but you were determined to hold your ground. Get across to the other side of the room and as far away from Jake as you could. Tears instantly welling in your eyes.

“Y/n, sweetheart—I get it, you’re angry—“ Jake tried to speak again, you didn’t let him. “But its not–”

“It was YOU! who ruined our marriage!” Jake was always going on about how it was you who left him. That was correct, but it was his actions, his attitude, that forced your hand. You never wanted to not love him. “Everything we fought for, and for what!?” It wasn't a question you needed answering as you spat venom Jake's way. You already knew the answer because you’d lived it.

“I need you to listen to me!” Jake was panicking as he tried to take steps towards you, watching as you pointed your finger and clenched your jaw. “Baby–”

“So you could sit alone and look at the medals of Valour, the cock sucking awards from admirals and officials who all see you as some golden flyboy!! HUH! after you pushed everyone—including me away!! To get them!” You screamed. “And now that you managed to get me to fall in love with you all over again—you have a child with someone else!!”

“I know you’re angry but if you’ll just let me explain!” Jake could feel his temper rising, this was dangerous ground to walk on. If you’d just listen to him for a second, he could explain.

“I AM NOT ANGRY I AM IN PAIN—AND YOU PUT ME HERE!” It was your fists that collided with Jake's chest like hammers that threw him off guard as little. You came at him like a hurricane of anguish. Crying into his chest as you hit him over and over again.

“Y/n stop–” Jake tried to restrain you, gripping your wrist in his hands to stop you trying to fight him. But you kept thrashing. “WE WEREN’T TOGETHER AT THE TIME!” It was the first thing Jake wanted to make clear as day. Even if you weren't going to listen. Screaming over the top of you. “I never would have–” He was panicking. “If we were–” This type of thing ended relationships all the time. “Y/n you have to believe me baby–” You wiped the blood from your forehead with the back of your hand as you took a step back. “I just needed to feel something! God I was convinced you took everything with you, everything good I had in me.” You couldn’t look at Jake as he stood before you, turning around you kept your eyes trained on his fellow pilots who were all getting ready for the carrier. Tomorrow morning was when you were all being shipped out. Eyes glazed as you felt a hand on your shoulder—never wavering from where Bob stood laughing with Phoenix. “And I was right, you took every ounce of good I had, every feeling, every emotion.”

“Jake—I don’t wanna—“ You were going to say hear it.

“Don’t leave me.” Frowning, that’s when you turned to face Jake again. He was holding tears back. Not very well—his bottom lip quivering as he stepped towards you, closing the gap he hated was there before dropping to his knees before you, head resting against your pelvis as he cried. You’d never seen Jake cry the way he did when he fell to his knees, hands on your hips. “I won’t survive if you leave again—I won’t.”

“Jake—“ You tried to speak but he didn’t let you get a word in.

“I know I’m not enough for you, I never have been—you deserve so much more but god Y/n if you leave me again I’ll never recover.” It was his truth. “I love you with everything I have.” Looking up you met Jake's tearful eyes. Red and puffy. “You are and always have been everything I have.”

“Oh god get up! I’m not leaving you!” You probably shouldn’t have pushed him away the way you did, but you just needed space. Sniffing back your own tears as blood still ran down your face. “I’m not leaving you, I just got you back! But god Jake this is—this is—this is so much to take in.” Standing, Jake cupped your face as you tried to shake him off. “Let me go!” You thrashed in his grip but he had you good. Stronger, more dominant than you could ever be. You weren't scared of Jake Seresin though. If anything he should be more scared of you.

“Never.” Jake clenched his jaw as he choked back tears. “I’ll never let you go again.”

“Take your hands off me!” Shoving Jake back, he stumbled as he kept his eyes on you. Both standing there eyeing each other off before you were crashing your lips against his. It wasn’t full of love—more desperation and anger. Working fast to rid each other of each other's clothing. “I hate you—“ Mumbling incoherent nonsense into Jake's mouth as you unbuttoned his flight suit. “I hate that I love you.” Jake just moaned into your mouth in response, stepping back towards your desk. “Hate that I left you, I hate that I’ll never be able to not fucking need you!” Propping you up on your desk as Jake roughly tugged your skirt up your waist.

“Shut up–” Jake groaned as he pulled himself from his boxer briefs, he wasn't sure when in the argument he’d gotten hard but he was ready and throbbing all for you. “You think I don't hate the fact you own me? It's pathetic.” The power you had over him, the utter chokehold on his heart you had. “Bet you thinks its just some fucking game huh?” There was no time for the foreplay he loved. Licking his fingers to make sure you were ready for him. Slicking you up before he gave himself a few tugs. Slamming in as he covered your mouth. Eyes rolling as his hand muffled your screams. “I’ve wanted to do this for a long fucking time.” Jake growled as he slowly pulled himself out before he slammed himself back in. His hand tightening against your mouth. “Every snarky comment every time you’ve pulled rank every time you’ve given me those filthy fucking fuck me eyes in our briefings.” His pace was unrelenting. “Just wanted to fuck you senseless.”

“Is this how you fucked all the women you slept with?” Looking down as you watched Jake's cock disappear inside you over and over. The tip of his length kissing your cervix. “Picturing me? Missing me like some pathetic schoolboy crush?” It was hard and nasty and not the slightest bit loving, which made you love it even more because you loved Jake Seresin with all your heart.

“Only ever wanted it to be you—argh fucking Christ!” Jake couldn’t believe what was happening, was he—was he hate fucking his wife to some extent? “This pussy is fucking mine baby, all mine.”

“Shit! Fuck fuck fuck!” Jake didn’t let up as he fixed your knees beside him. Folding you in half as he fucked you relentlessly on your desk. Both of you in your uniforms. The door unlocked with the fear of being caught. “Harder baby harder!” Jake raised his eyebrows in disbelief—he didn’t think he had any more to give until you begged for more. Wrapping his hands around your throat just to shut you up. Pulling Jake down closer to you by his dog tags. Watching with a slack jaw and a frowned forehead as your eyes rolled into the back of your head from the sensation. “OH fuck yes–!”

“Sick of hearing how much I fucked up, you think I haven’t already figured out what I’ve done wrong?” He didn’t mean it, he’d listen to you drawn on and on about what he needed to fix every day of his life if it meant he’d have you by his side. But for now he’d play into it—and oh boy did Jake have his own grievances to air. “And you—you fucking bitch, going behind my back, telling Mav not to put me on this mission.” He got faster and harder as you got closer and closer to your high. You felt a string in your heart for just a brief moment, shit– he knew, how?

“Fuck!!” You cried out under the pressure of Jake's hands gripping your throat. He loosened up just a little, scared he was doing too much. Only for you to reach up and around to the back of his head. Pulling him down into you for the sloppiest, most unholy kiss you’d ever given him. “Keep fucking me like this, dont you stop.” Begging for more you threw your head back in pure euphoria. Your legs wrapped so tight around Jake's waist and he thrashed himself into you, your desk shaking under the pressure and momentum.

“Why’d you do it?” Jake groaned. “Huh? Why’d you tell Mav not to choose me?” Of course, Jake already knew why, you did it all for love. There was never any other reason why. But he wanted you to play along, feed into the lust, the desire. The hate. “Why’d.” Every word he spoke. “You—“ Jake fucked you deeper. “Do.” Harder. “It?”

“Because!” You screamed, tears of pleasure rolled down your face as Jake loosened his grip so you could speak. You tried manoeuvring yourself up the desk to get away from Jake but all he did was follow you up a little more. The pad of his thumb coming to dance across your sensitive bundle of nerves. Working you closer and closer to your high. “Because you're not the best!” Lies, it was all lies. “Roosters ten times the pilot you’ll ever be—“ Oh boy that really did strike a nerve as the newly framed vows you'd just promised each other fell face down on your desk.

“SAY IT AGAIN!” You knew Jake had a jealous streak, he didn't really have a reason for it really. But if it meant you were gonna keep getting fucked the hardest he’d ever fucked you? You’d say just about anything. “Say it again and see what fucking happens.”

“Jake—baby, ugghhh fuck!” You were right there, so close to coming undone as you tensed and arched your back up into Jake. “Keep going!”

“Yes, darlin’” Oh god there it was. The Texan within. That twang in his voice. The southern drawl. “Fuck I’m so fucking close—“ Jake’s grip around your throat softened as his eyes met yours, so full of need, so full of lust. A side he’d never seen, or hard just forgotten about. “Wanna cum for you.” The dominance faded as he neared his own high, thumb working overtime in unison with every thrust he gave you. “Where–”

“In me baby–” Sitting up a little more you wrapped your arms around Jake's neck, clinging to him as you finally reached your high. An orgasm so powerful your moans travelled down the halls of the office building. “FFUUCCKK—-Yes!!”

“Oh god oh god oh god– yes!” Jake was releasing his load seconds after your velvet walls started contracting around his length. Squeezing him relentlessly as your nails dug into the back of his neck. “Y/n, Fuck!” the windows of your office had begun to steam up. Sheer layers of sweat clung to you and Jake as you connected your lips in a needy loving display of affection after the atrocities you’d both just committed. Saying things you both would never mean intentionally unless to get a rise out of one another. It worked.

“I told Pete I'd never forgive him if something happened to you.” The night and day switch happened almost instantly as you both came down from your highs. Jake still inside you as you stayed as close to him as possible. Cupping his cheeks as he held the small of your back. Supporting you. “If he sends you on that mission, and you don't come back? What am I supposed to do huh?”

“You could find another me tomorrow, Hawk.” There was no doubt in Jake's mind that you were settling for him. “But for what's it worth? I already told Mav not to consider me, that's how I found out about your little threat.” Jake kissed you one more time before he pulled out, the tissue box on top of your desk came in handy with the clean up process. Fixing each other's uniforms and peppering soft kisses across each other's collarbones, cheeks, and lips. “And I know that kids not mine, Marissa knows it too–” Jake paused for a few seconds as he squinted and held the bridge of his nose. “I couldn't even get it up.”

“You what?” You had to hold back a small laugh behind your hand. Jake raised his brows at you in shock. “Sorry, sorry–Just doesn't seem like something you'd struggle with.”

“Yeah well, I did and it's your fault.” Jake did the buttons of his flight suit up before pushing his hair back. Slick with sweat. “You made me a desperate man hawk, nothing ever compared to you, not any other woman, not any video on any site I tried to give myself some form of relief to. Nothing”

“Still doesn't make it hurt any less Jake.” You just needed time to process the entire thing. Looking at Jake with sad eyes as you fixed your skirt. “I think I just need a little time to process the idea, you aren't gonna have a chance to get a paternity test down before we ship out to the Leyte Gulf and you gotta reap what you sow.”

“What do mean by, need time?” Jake asked delicately as he tried to read the terrain of the situation. Nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck.

“I mean that I just think I need some space to wrap my head around the fact you could very much have a son and it's not with me.” You couldn't blame Jake, you were separated and he was well within his right to do whatever he wanted. Especially since you were the one who had left him. But the fact of the matter was your heart was shattered. Your heart was in shambles. “I love you, so much, but I think a few days just to really let the fact of the matter settle before I do anything irrational–”

“Irrational being?” Jake could feel his heart pounding in his chest as he asked, stepping on thin ice that he could hear cracking under the weight of the relationship you were both so desperately trying to save.

“Irrational being wanting to fight a perfectly innocent woman who just wants to know who the father of her child is.” Rational would be getting Jake to sign his name on the dotted line of the divorce papers that still sat collecting dust in the top drawer of your desk. The desk you just hate fucked you hubsband on– if thats what you could even call whatever that display was.

“Okay well, yes, we don't want you doing that.” Jake chuckled softly. Knowing that the heaviness of the situation was real and very much could ruin everything if you were to harbour hatred for him or any other pirates involved.

“How many others were there?” You couldn't look at Jake as you fixed up the things on your desk. Holding the fallen photo frame that held your post it vows. Eyesing off what you'd sworn to jake. No running. “How many of them were there really.”

“Three–” God it was harder to hear then you thought it would be. A legitimate number sounded so much worse than a figure of speech. Just a couple had been a much easier pill to swallow when you'd asked after dog fight football. Shaking your head as the silence became near deafening in your office. “They were all petty hook ups–”

“Am I going to have to go through this twice more? roll the dice and pray to the nearest god on duty that you didn't actually get anyone pregnant?” Jake picked up on the annoyance in your tone instantly. Watching as you leaned your hands on your desk with straight locked elbows. Head hanging low. “Because I didn't sign up for this–”

“I got one plan B and the other just happened to be infertile.” Jake didn't think there was any real reason to beat around the bush. The scoff you let out as you pulled put the stack of paperwork from your top drawer. “This, I hope, unless there's something I don't know about, will be the only time–” Jake paused for a moment because he wasn't sure what he wanted to say would make the matter any better. But regardless, as he stood and eyes off the divorce papers you'd placed on the desk in front of him. He said it. “Only person I've ever thought about having kids with was and still is you.”

“Well, guess that makes two of us huh.” Both staring down at the paperwork that would no longer make you Mrs Seresin, the paperwork that would legally mean you were Jakes to have and to hold. “I need a few days, just—let’s get this detachment over and done with and we’ll figure out what we’re gonna do when we get back.” Sighing with a heavy heart you rubbed your face. Dry blood flaking off the side of your face.

“We’ll? As in—us? Together.” Jake couldn’t help the smirk that crept across his face. You really weren’t leaving him. Reaching out to pull you into his arms. Kissing the top of your head.

“Well look what happened the last time I felt you to your own devices Bagman—“ He'd take that. Jake would take that all the way to the bank if he could. Just that moment alone where he knew for sure that you weren’t going anywhere. At least for now. “Just give me a few days.”

“A few days—“

***~***~***~***~***~***~***

Jake tried to give you the space he knew you needed right now. He’d been watching from afar all morning as you walked around with the Admirals and spoke to Pete. Soft glances as you met his gaze with gentle smiles and fleeting waves. Like you were both too scared to approach one another. Like high school sweethearts too afraid to make the first move. Jake respected your need for space right now and at least giving you space was something he at least knew he could do.

If there was one habit you’d picked up over the years from your best friend, your husband– it was the stupid tooth pick chewing. You hated seeing others do it, but from time to time you found yourself walking around absentmindedly chewing on one.

“Little known fact, you probably shouldn't chew your food on one side.” Fanboy said as he helped you up into the seahawk that was taking you across the ocean with the rest of the crew. You'd had a choice to go with the admirals–but decided that you wanted to go with the TopGun crew. They were nicer people to be around. Plus, even if you and Jake were just taking a moment to breathe, it was still a comfort to know he was right there. “It can buckle your jaw which will buckle your hips and affect your posture.” Initially you hadn’t really picked up on what brought about Mickey to say such an odd fact. Until Jake gestured to the toothpick in your mouth. Smirking to himself as he sat with his buckles already done up. Trying his best to keep his distance.

“That's a fact? Lieutenant?” Shoving your bag up onto the overhead as you pulled the toothpick from your mouth, pocketting it until you had access to a proper garbage bin.

“Yep, Skeletal fact–” Fanboy sat beside his front seater, working to clip his buckles in as the whole squad was ready to go. Even Pete had decided to join the group travelling on the seahawk. The only difference between you and everyone else was that you were in your service tans–everyone else had their flight suits on and ready to go. The usual attire you saw them in.

Looking at your husband, your heart ached at the empty seat beside him. Everyone had expected it to be for you when they had found out you'd be travelling with them. Usually Coyote would be glued to his best friend's hips. But even he sat on the other side of the seahawk. Deciding that just because you needed space emotionally didn’t necessarily mean you needed it physically.

“Fanboy–word of advice.” You sighed softly as you sat beside Jake, his eyes questioning your actions as you buckled in. “You keep talking out of your ass with that much conviction? You’ll end up needing a much bigger toothbrush–” Rooster couldn't hold back his laugh as the colour and smile faded from Mickey Garcia's face. “That's an anal fact.” The entire group who sat on edge with nerves flooding their systems laughed aloud. For a moment or two, they'd forgotten where they were heading, what some of them would be asked to do. You even noticed for a brief second Chaos and Rooster locked eyes laughing–before he turned his head away.

“You owe me twenty bucks by the way.” Jake leaned his shoulder against yours, noticing where your eye line lingered. “I mean not right now, but they're so together.” Jake noticed how Chaos looked at him in disgust, wondering just how he’d managed to convince you to stay. If it was her she would have been a million miles away by now.  

“Detachments not over yet.” You didn't look Jake's way, you couldn't bring yourself to give yourself entirely to him. Still fighting off the urge to back out now before it was too late and you ended up a stepmother. But knowing that the possibility of something going wrong over the next twenty-four hours could change your entire world– bringing your worst nightmares into reality? Stopped you from giving him up. Reaching out to find what you were so desperately in search of, Jake felt your hand still creep into his. Smiling softly before bringing the back of your hand up to his mouth.

Your wedding band back right where it should have always been.

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***

Tags: @justanothermagicalsara @alexsisrebekah @stinkyjax@starkleila @luckyladycreator2 @love2write2626 @shanimallina87 @dempy @mintellaine @kiarabellerum31 @abaker74 @shadowsndaisies @haworldwidefunnyguy @peakascum @ssprayberrythings

[totowlff]

chapter one — initial orientation

➝ toto wolff is a skeptic about love. after several failed dates, he definitely doesn't want to know anything about relationships anymore. however, when a friend bridges the gap between him and one of his more mysterious employees, he decides to try again. little does he know that woman is taking him back to the classroom.

➝ word count: 4,2k

➝ warnings: mentions of smut, bdsm dynamics and bondage

➝ author’s note: an experimental project, without a defined number of chapters and working from another point of view. it will probably be the dirtiest thing i will write on this blog. enjoy.

As he drove through the narrow streets of South Kensington, Toto felt butterflies in his stomach. It was almost childish, he thought, to feel that way at his age at the prospect of a date, but he couldn’t help it. 

The initial idea had not been his, quite the opposite. He had reached a point of complete skepticism towards love and that must have been visible that night in Porto Cervo. Sitting at a table facing the Mediterranean, he couldn't care less about the stunning sunset that painted the sky pink and orange. His eyes were fixed on the couple who were next to him, holding hands, enjoying the scenery.

— Are you okay, Toto? — someone asked next to him.He turned his head and saw Stefano Domenicali setting down his gin and tonic.

— Yes, yes, I’m fine.

— You seem distant.

— I'm just thinking.

The man smiled.

— Would you mind sharing your thoughts?

Toto snorted, running a hand through his hair.

— It's not important.

— I think it is, considering I was talking for five minutes about next year's calendar issues and you just completely ignored me.

— What do you want me to say, Stefano? — Toto said, watching the pieces of lemon and ice floating in his glass of Coca-Cola — I can't make you or Mohamed change your minds about the 23 races.

—But you weren't thinking about that, were you?

— No.

— So, what was it?

Toto stared at his friend for long seconds before letting out another sigh.

— I was thinking about love.

— Are you in love, Toto? — Stefano asked, with a suggestive smile on his face.

— No, no — he replied, shaking his head — Actually, that’s the problem. It’s frustrating.

The man in front of him raised an eyebrow.

— Frustrated? How can a guy like you be frustrated?

— Let's say that my current prospects are dim.

— I thought you were a hit with women after Netflix came along — Stefano said — At least that's what it seems like on social media.

Toto chuckled dejectedly, picking up his glass.

— Don't believe everything you see on the internet, Stefano — he said, before taking a sip — Actually, things have been downright pathetic lately.

— Pathetic?

— On the last date I went to, the woman spent half an hour discussing how she knew that the belonging to the woman a table over wasn't a real Birkin. All I had asked was if she liked the place I had chosen for our dinner.

Stefano laughed, his hand on the base of his gin and tonic glass.

— And because of one bad date, you think your love life is pathetic?

— Well, almost every date I've had since the divorce has been pathetic. If they're not busy judging bags, they're talking about their latest purchases at the Duomo in Milan or how their ex-husbands left them for younger girls.

— On the first date? — Stefano asked — Jesus, Toto...

— And with work, it became even more complicated to fit everything together. Let's face it, no woman wants a partner who spends so much time away from home. They want a guy who stays by their side, who supports them, who pays attention to them, and I can’t always be that person. 

— It's clear that you're a supportive and caring guy. If not, you wouldn't have stayed until the end of those horrible encounters of yours.

— But… That’s not what I want out of a relationship, you know?

— And what do you want?

Toto pursed his lips.

—That's a difficult question...

— Only if you don't know what you're looking for. And, in these cases, you need one of those women who are — he hesitated for a few seconds, thoughtfully — Viola says that all the time, what is it called?

— Cultured? Intelligent? Sincere?

— A girlboss, I think that's how they say it in English.

— But what the hell does that mean?

— An independent woman, who has her own career and her own success. A woman who won't need your name or her money for anything, because she has it all due to her effort. Someone who doesn’t need you to take care of her all the time. A powerful, confident woman. Just like you’re a powerful, confident man.

— I'm not powerful, Stefano.

— Toto, let's face it, things only happen inside the paddock if you want them to. You have three client teams, influence over which drivers get seats, who gets in and who gets out of the grid. You helped put Vowles in charge at Williams...

— He did that on his own merit, I didn’t…

— It doesn't matter, working with you made it so that he stood out. Everything you touch turns to gold and you need someone just like you.

Toto rolled his eyes.

— And where do you think I’ll find this person?

— At my office in London — his friend said, as he took his phone out of his pocket. After a few taps on the screen, he turned the screen towards him, with a small smile on his face.

The image of a woman illuminated the screen. She had short black hair with straight bangs, as well as greenish eyes marked by makeup and full lips. Wearing a black blazer, the only point of color in the image were the red nails on the hand holding the phone, revealing that it was a photo taken in a mirror.

— Who is this? — Toto asked softly, his skin suddenly feeling very hot.

— Ava Randall, part of the Formula One Management’s board of directors.

He blinked, somewhat incredulously. How had he not noticed that woman walking through the paddock before?

— She — Toto stammered, without looking away from the woman's serious, almost seductive expression. He couldn't stop thinking about what her voice would be like, what her smile would be like, what her touch would be like.

— Single, no children, a successful career established in the same field as you. She's what you need, Toto.

— Stefano…

— I can talk to her and give her your contact details so you can talk and arrange a date — he said — What do you think?

Toto pressed his lips into a thin line.

— Do you think she would go out with me?

— You'll only know if you let me give her her number.

“Well, it doesn't hurt to try”, he thought that night.

It was surprising when he got a message from an unknown number. The brunette woman smiling in the profile photo made Toto's heart sped up while his mind searched for the right response.

A seemingly innocent conversation soon turned into an invitation to dinner at a quiet restaurant when he was back in London. She was dressed very elegantly, and Toto couldn't take his eyes off her for even a second. He wanted to find out everything he could about her. 

Ava was a lawyer, graduated from University of Cambridge, and worked for some time in an office in London until she was hired to join McLaren's defense team during the investigation of Ferrari documents being leaked to McLaren team personnel. Getting closer to the world of Formula 1 made her decide to move into the sports field, getting a position on the legal team at Formula One Management.

— And, as soon as he was appointed as CEO of F1, Stefano asked me to join the board of directors. He said that even though we were on opposite sides during Spygate, he had been impressed with my work.

— And, if I may say so, I am too, Ava — Toto said, smiling.

The night ended with the promise of another date, which took place in Abu Dhabi, on the last weekend of the race. At that point, he knew that Ava was completely different from the other women. She had a powerful aura, almost as if she made time stop every time in every room she walked into. The serious look and the restrained smile seemed like an invitation to delve even deeper into that woman, to discover even more about her and, in a way, to allow himself to be discovered.

And it was with that intention he’d ended up in front of an elegant red brick building in Chelsea. Taking a last look at his hair, Toto parked his car and started walking indirection of the building's entrance before paging her apartment on the intercom.

As he stared at his reflection in the elevator’s polished metal interior, he thought about how Ava would have been dressed and whether she had cooked for them. “Maybe she ordered something, it's easier”, Toto thought, as he entered the corridor that led to her sixth floor apartment. It didn’t matter what they would be eating. What mattered was being with her, listening to her stories and becoming more and more enchanted by her.

Few seconds passed between the moment he pressed the doorbell and the moment the door opened, revealing Ava and her charming smile.

— Good evening, Toto — she greeted him, leaning against the doorframe. Wearing a white cashmere dress that left her shoulders exposed and a delicate necklace with a yin-yang-like symbol around her neck, she looked completely at ease — How are you?

— I’m well, and you?

— Everything is perfect.

Opening the door wider, she nodded for him to come in, which he did with a shy smile on his face. After taking off his shoes and the coat he was wearing, placing them on one of the hooks hanging on the white wall, he followed her through the flat, trying not to seem too dazzled by the place.

However, the reality was that the apartment was gorgeous, with elegant and cozy decor in light wood. She led him down the hallway, past the living room until they reached the kitchen, also decorated in the same way. It didn't take long for his eyes to find the pots on the stove, as well as the wine and the two glasses carefully positioned on the dining table.

— Cooking, huh? — Toto asked, with a smile.

— I thought it would be nice to show you that I can cook — Ava replied.

— And what's on the menu for this evening?

— Spaghetti with Chicken Alfredo — she said, walking over to the stove — I know you’re selective with what you eat.

— You know I don't mind eating something different on special occasions.

Ava looked up at him, the corners of her lips turning up.

— This is a special occasion?

— Of course.

— Why?

— It's not every day I have dinner with someone like you.

— Like me? — she raised an eyebrow.

— You know… Special — Toto replied, in a low voice, feeling particularly proud of himself when she looked back at the pan in front of her, her cheeks slightly red. It was almost as if she was shy and not the incredibly confident woman who had caught his attention in their first phone messages.

After breaking the silence with a little joke, he offered to open the wine. While he poured the glasses, she drained the spaghetti and set it aside for when the sauce was ready. When Toto handed the wine to his hostess, she smiled.

— Thank you — Ava said, sipping the liquid with a curious gleam in her eyes.

Dinner was leisurely, the delicious food pairing well with the good win and their shared laughter over a few anecdotes from the days when the seat in front of him on the private jet was occupied by the same person on every flight. Niki had always been his main encourager in his search for a new love, or at least for a casual fuck, after all, "he had needs that couldn't be solved with punches on the table". Toto always tried to get him to change the subject, but it was almost impossible, especially when the former driver started talking about his adventures after Marlene's divorce.

“Niki would like her”, he thought to himself, watching as Ava took another bite of chicken, smiling a little as she realized Toto was looking at her.

— Everything’s good? — she asked, after swallowing.

— Yeah. I was just thinking about something a friend of mine said...

— About me?

— About relationships.

She placed the cutlery on the plate, curiosity making her eyes sparkle.

— Would you mind sharing?

Toto smiled.

— Well, like I told you, I've been single for a while. And this friend of mine said that I was only like this because I didn't use his approach.

— And what would that be?

— Don't talk too much, focus on the goal and achieve it — Toto said, making Ava laugh.

— Very pragmatic, isn’t he?

— It’s a very… Austrian way of looking at things.

— And you, as a good Austrian, share this vision?

He took a sip of wine.

— I prefer to take life a little slower. Besides, I think it's obvious that I talk too much.

Ava laughed again, throwing her head back, her neck with the golden necklace completely exposed. Something about that vision made him feel something warm run over his skin, while imagination made a less than innocent scene unfold in his mind. It was as if his own body was asking him to give in to his own desire and experience the taste of the soft and delicate skin of the woman in front of him.

And he was tempted to give in, his mouth suddenly dry and his face warm.

However, Toto just smiled.

After they finished eating, Ava invited him into the living room to continue their conversation. With the bottle of wine on the light wooden coffee table, they were sitting in front of the fireplace, which was crackling softly. Sipping the contents of the glasses slowly, the two chatted about trivialities, such as their plans for winter break.

Until all the wine he had consumed started to manifest itself in his bladder.

— Ava, where is the bathroom?

— In the hallway, on the left — she replied, extending her hand to take his glass — Feel free.

He got up and followed the direction Ava had pointed out. As he passed by the mirror in the apartment's hall and saw his messy hair, Toto couldn't help but think about what it would be like to feel her fingers sinking through his hair, pulling his head against her in a kiss filled with desire. “I definitely need to kiss this woman”, he thought to himself, grabbing the handle and opening the door.

However, after patting the wall for the switch and turning on the lights, Toto realized that it wasn't the bathroom.

Unlike the rest of the apartment, that room was not bright or light. The walls were painted in a mysterious shade of gray, which matched the tones of the blanket and pillows on the bed, which was large and had a particularly reinforced metal structure, with four columns forming a kind of frame over the mattress.

Walking slowly towards the bed, Toto knew he shouldn't be there, but at the same time, he wanted to stay there and try to figure out what the room was for.

It was as if he was discovering a secret side of Ava; a very different side from what she had presented until then. After a few seconds of wondering what the metal half-moons welded to the structure were for, he found the answer hanging on the wall, just above a black velvet chaise that was placed in the corner of the room.

It definitely wasn't what he expected from a woman like Ava.

On the hooks, there were ropes of different thicknesses, whips, paddles, what looked like a swing, and a feather duster.

“A fetish room?”, he asked himself, as he removed one of the ropes from the wall. Running his thumb along the fibers, Toto found that they were firm but soft, clearly made to bind a person. Giving it a tug to test its resistance, he felt somewhat perplexed by his own discovery, after all, Ava didn't seem like a woman who liked that kind of thing.

When Toto imagined himself with her in his arms, he saw an almost romantic scene. The bodies intertwined, the low moans, the lips parted, as if searching for each other in the haze of pleasure. He could feel her contract around him as her orgasm took over her, her green eyes rolling back as her muscles trembled.

— I think this is a little advanced for you — someone said behind him. With a start, Toto looked back, meeting the serious gaze of Ava, who was standing near the door.

— Yeah... Well — he stammered, a bit startled, as she dug something out of the closet behind her. After a few seconds, Ava walked towards him and took the ropes from his hands, placing two pieces of black satin in place.

— I think this is more of your speed.

Staring at the soft fabric, Toto felt his stomach turn with embarrassment. He definitely shouldn't be there, snooping around Ava's things. However, his natural curiosity had overcome any sense of common sense, which had already been diminished by the wine.

— What are they?

— Those are satin sashes. They’re softer, better for beginners.

— I mean — he hesitated — These things, this place...

Ava smiled a little.

— I think you already know, don't you?

Toto looked up at her, almost shyly.

— Uh… Do you like being tied up?

The suggestion made Ava laugh, shaking her head.

— No, Toto — she replied, in a low voice — I like doing the tying.

Toto stared at her in silence, his heart beating heavily. He knew that many people liked to tie up and even do other things with their partners during sex, even as a way to spice up the relationship. But he had never been in a relationship with someone who lived that lifestyle to the fullest.

Even Ava.

He thought about how innocent he had been to imagine that a woman like her would have a different posture in bed. Ava was intelligent, determined, powerful and, above all, she was aware of her own power, as shown by the way she walked around the paddock with well-fitted blazers in sober colors. And, by God, that was sexy.

— I know what you're thinking, Toto — she said, taking the hand that held the satin sash — How is it possible for a woman to dominate a man? Honestly, it’s one of my favorite questions to answer.

With his eyes fixed on her, Toto watched as Ava gently opened his hands, her fingers sliding across his skin and igniting a flame inside his chest.

— The fun of the game of domination and submission is precisely the possibility of assuming different roles in the sexual dynamics. It's not limiting yourself to the vision others have of you and expressing your most intimate desires in a safe and controlled context — she continued, removing the satin sash from his hand — And that's why I entered this world.

— Do you… Um, spank? — Toto asked softly, feeling his mouth dry.

— Yes, when it is necessary to bring my partner to submission  — Ava replied, as she walked past him, still holding his hand — And if it's within my partner's limits. In the end, what matters inside this room is not pain or power. It's trust. The trust my partner has to surrender to my control.

Looking at their hands, Toto felt his entire body tingle.

— Control…

— Yes. Control. I control the scenario, the scenes, the objects that will be used, everything to bring pleasure to my partner — she said, somewhere behind him — That's what being a domme is, Toto.

Letting out a heavy sigh, he could feel his own pulse roaring in his ears as Ava's fingers slid across his shoulders.

— Do you know… Men that… Like that? — Toto finally managed to ask, his eyes searching Ava's face, whose lips were curved in a deliciously suggestive smile.

— Submissive men? Yes — Ava replied softly — In fact, you'd be surprised to know how many rich, powerful men find pleasure in not having any power in the bedroom.

The last sentence made Toto think of Stefano's words during dinner in Porto Cervo, about him being a powerful man. Although he ignored that rosy view of his own work, there was a grain of truth in that statement; he actually had power within that world, even if he hadn't worked for it but only for the team in which he had shares. It was precisely what made his role not just a job, but a burden.

It was difficult to deal with the attention, the spotlight, the fans, the demands. Despite being intoxicating, the power he held was stressful, not to mention toxic. And there were days when what Toto wanted most was fresh air.

With his eyes locked on Ava's, he was sure that, finally, he could breathe.

Bringing one of her hands to his face, she slowly approached him. The touch between their lips was careful, almost as if it could break them into thousands of pieces inside that room. Ava's perfume, with its floral and musky notes, enveloped him like a hug that Toto never wanted to leave. However, when he tried to reciprocate, his arms didn't respond, something soft holding his wrists together.

The discovery made him move his face away from hers, scared.

— I'm tied up — Toto said, as he moved his wrists, making Ava smile.

— No, you're not — she said — It's a simple knot, just push your wrists outward at the same time, and it will come loose.

As he repeated her instructions, the satin band gave way, freeing his wrists. As he brought them forward, he rubbed his skin with his hands, a little embarrassed at having reacted so abruptly to what she had done. But, it wasn’t like he could say he didn’t enjoy the adrenaline rush. 

— Ava? — Toto said softly, looking up tentatively at her.

— Yes?

Something in the back of his mind asked him to give in to his own desire, which tingled across his skin in a stubborn, not to say insistent, way. Toto wanted that woman no matter what, even on her terms.

— Can you tell me where the bathroom is?

Ava smiled, before leading him out of the room and directing him to the right door inside the apartment. As he closed himself inside the cubicle, Toto let out a heavy sigh, staring at his own reflection in the mirror. His face was red and his breathing was heavy. His pants felt too tight and his shirt rubbed uncomfortably against his skin.

He didn't expect to react like this to his discovery about Ava. Not that she didn't provoke desire in him, quite the opposite. But there was something about the idea of allowing her to take control of his pleasure that made something below his belly button tingle and his heart beat faster.

What if he liked it?

What if he got hurt?

What if she made him feel good?

What if she scared him?

What if it was the best experience of his life?

What if it was the most traumatic experience of his life?

Shaking his head, Toto looked back at the sink, trying to focus on his own breathing and not the heat he was feeling. Ava hadn't extended any invitation to dominate him, but the knot with the satin sash had been enough for a seed to be planted in his mind. And, incredible as it seemed, it was already sprouting.

After washing his hands and face, he returned to the living room in silence, finding Ava sitting on the couch, staring at her own glass of wine. Trying to hide the strange silence, he looked at his watch to find the time.

— Well, I think it's time for me to go home.

She got up from the sofa with the glass still in her hand, a shy smile on her face.

— Are you sure? We haven't finished the wine yet.

Toto looked at his glass, which still had some of the golden liquid in the bottom. He was tempted to stay and finish the bottle with Ava, but something told him it was time to stop. He needed to process that night with a clear head.

— Yeah. Oxford is a bit far and I don't want to get home too late.

As he said that, Ava's expression seemed to lose its shine, even though there was still a cordial smile on her lips. Leaving the glass on the coffee table, she walked him to the door, one hand resting on his lower back, the touch sending a warm wave through Toto's body.

— Well, I thank you for accepting my invitation. It was a great dinner — she said, opening the apartment door while he put on his coat and shoes.

— I need to thank you, you are a great cook.

They stared at each other for a few seconds in silence. “Do I talk about that?”, Toto wondered.

— So, I'll see you in the paddock?

— Oh, yeah. Absolutely — he replied, forcing a smile — See you later, Ava.

— See you — she said softly, as Toto walked past her and left the apartment, his heart beating heavy in his chest. When he heard the door close behind him, he let out a long sigh, as if he was finally reaching the surface after a deep dive into some wreck area, as he liked to do when he was in Porto Cervo.

However, contrary to what he imagined, he didn't want to get on the boat and go back to the hotel, quite the opposite. Toto has never wanted so much to dive back in to explore Ava's depths, to uncover what was behind those well-cut blazers and flawless makeup.

He just didn't know if he had the breath for it.

[bananadrinkxxx]

The BLOOD CROWN

[Aemond Fanfiction ] reposted on wattpad

Pairing:  Aemond Targaryen x OC female!

Warning:  Dark Romance / Enemies to Lovers.

Summary

"𝗜𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗞𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝘀𝗲𝗲𝗸 𝗷𝘂𝘀𝘁𝗶𝗰𝗲, 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗤𝘂𝗲𝗲𝗻 𝘄𝗶𝗹𝗹."

Queen Alicent had spoken the truth when these words had left her mouth, the moment the King decided not to punish Princess Rhaenyra's son for taking the eye of her child. In the night, in the safe place of her chambers, she gave the order to have Lucery's Velaryon taken and sold into slavery. But a regrettable misunderstanding causes Larys Strong's men to take, not the culprit, but Aemma Velaryon, Rhaenyra's youngest child, and banish her to a life of suffering and loneliness.

Aemma Velaryon had not been seen since then but the gods do not forget and sometimes fate strikes back harder than you would have expected.

- PART 1 -

Then they say every end (...) ...

PRESENT - KING'S LANDING. RED KEEP.

"How does it feel, brother?"

Aemond looked up. He hadn' noticed how Aegon had entered his chambers.

He had been so lost in his own thoughts that he hadn't even heard his brother approach him. A shame, considering his years of training with Ser Criston Cole.

The smell of alcohol hit him.

A wine bag in his hand and eye rings as dark as night and eyes as red as fire. He looked pathetic, but Aemond was sure he looked more pathetic. He smelled his own stench and he knew that his condition was unsightly. Greasy hair that fell into his face. Silver hair that had lost its luster and an unshaven face that could not hide his pale skin.

"...knowing you've killed the woman you loved?"

Aegon had always been very direct.

That was probably the only good quality about him.

Otherwise, he was just a boozy, sickly looking man, plagued by his injuries, who by the luck of his birth, had become king. Aemond wondered if Aegon was the most pathetic king the seven kingdoms had ever had. He was definitely a candidate for it.

"And how does it feel to you?" rasped Aemond. His voice was rough. He hadn't spoken in days, and hadn't intended to, but Aegon had always known how to make him do things he didn't want to do.

"Me?" Aegon asked mockingly with a raised eyebrow as he dropped into the vacant chair next to Aemond.

Aemond looked at Aegon snidely. "Who gave the order to attack King's Landing?"

"Since when do you follow my orders, brother?"

Good question. Never, actually.

"That was your own decision, wasn't it?"

"She wasn't supposed to be there." Aemond didn't know why he was defending himself.

But she was there. Right where he had burned everything to the ground. Right there where she wasn't supposed to be.

"To be precise, I got the information from you, Aegon, which is why I wonder-," he turned directly to his brother for the first time. He leaned forward a bit, and he watched Aegon's eyes grow wide, almost fearful. "-was it you? Did you want me to kill her? That I would be the one and not you?"

Aegon made a pained, indignant sound. Anger came into his eyes.

"I would never have killed her."

"No? She would never have accepted you as king. Never bent the knee. After everything our family did to her. She would have been always an danger to you, to us, to this reign."

"I would have exiled her. Somewhere, Pentos or some other place where she would have been safe and she couldn't have been a threat."

"Ridiculous. She was the threat. Do you really think she would have stayed there?"

"I would have made sure of it."

"You couldn't even make sure she wasn't there when I attacked. "

For a moment, her eyes appeared in front of his inner eye. Her beautiful eyes filled with love and hate.

A painful twinge made him wince.

The memory of her had tormented him for days.

"It's not my fault. I would rather have seen her locked up than in ashes."

"And her freedom?"

"That is something she lost the moment she decided to help our sister."

"I am surprised, Aegon. You're even crueler than I thought."

Aegon jumped to his feet.

The alcohol wafted up and his chair fell over backwards. His whole body shook with anger and the veins in his eyes stood out. It was an unsightly sight.

"I didn't want her dead. I gave her a way out."

"Well now she is dead, so in the end you really gave her a way out."

"It wasn't my dragon who burned her alive."

Arrogant Bastard.

Now Aemond stood up as well. His brother's arrogance and self-promotion pissed him off.

He stepped toward Aegon and reached for his shirt.

"It was your order, Aegon. Your fucking order, you pathetic excuse of a king. Don't play the victim when it was your words that sealed her death."

Aegon made a sound filled with pain. Anger gave way to pain and pain gave way to sorrow. Tears came to his eyes and it was not long before the first tear ran down his cheek. He collapsed and it was only Aemond who held him up. He had never reacted like this when his son or Helaena had died.

Never had his brother seemed so pathetic.

Aemond let go of him and watched as his brother slumped.

"I didn't want it," he affirmed, crying bitterly. He propped his elbows on his shaking knees while supporting his head with his hands. "I loved her."

"Well, your love will be remembered forever."

"They told me to order it."

They? Who was 'they'?

"Who did what?" Aemond's voice was hard.

Silence.

"Damn, Aegon. Who is 'they'? Talk to me, you miserable bastard!" He grabbed Aegon's hair and pulled his brother's head back so that he had to face him.

Aegon looked at him in irritation. "You don't know? They said she was at dragonstone when I gave the order."

"I wouldn't ask if I knew. I swear to you, if you don't tell me right now who-"

"Mother. The council."

For a second, everything felt numb. A static went through his ears and Aegon's words rang out over and over. It suddenly felt hard to breathe.

"You're lying," Aemond pressed out. This could not be the truth. "You're lying," he repeated. Never. No way. No fucking way.

They wouldn't.

She wouldn't.

Aegon smiled. It was a tired, exhausted smile. It was completely out of place, and yet it couldn't have been more fitting.

"If it makes you sleep better, little brother."

"Mother would never have lied to you."

"Of course not."

"She would never have lied to me."

"Probably."

Aemond let go of his brother. Aegon sank back, while Aemond stumbled backward and held on convulsively to the table beside him. His knuckles stood out white.

He knew that look Aegon gave him.

He had looked at him like that before.

Back when he had begged him not to force him to become king.

Aemond wondered if she would still be alive if he hadn't followed his cursed sense of honor then. If he had resisted and let his brother escape.

Perhaps then many things would have been different.

Yes, they had won this battle.

But they lost the most valuable thing.

... (...) had an beginning.

[bohemian-nights]

I can't believe I saw a Tumblr post DEFENDING Rhaenyra for pursuing and wanting to sleep with Daemon at Laena's funeral, they basically said it was because she was a victim of his grooming (which is true she was groomed by him) and she couldn't help herself which is.... Rhaenyra is a grown ass woman, the heir to the iron throne, and is expected to take over and rule once her father passes she knew exactly what she was doing, in the scene with Laena she wasn't a victim she genuinely did not give a fuck about Laena's death or even Harwin for that matter and got with Daemon, now you can say that yeah, Daemon had Rhaenyra believe that they were "soul mates" and that they were meant to be but that is no excuse for her to jump on him the moment his wife's casket hits the bottom on the ocean, and this isn't taking blame of Daemon but.... it's Daemon, expecting Daemon to be a decent human being is almost impossible to hope for. He's the rogue prince who hosted a celebration after his sister-in-law/cousin and nephew's death, who murdered his wife and neglected his own children. And here you have Rhaenyra, who the show tries but fails to put on this progressive feminist pedestal. Rhaenyra is the equivalent of those women who don't care for equality and instead want to power and privilege men all to herself so she can hold power over others, there's no defence for why Rhaenyra chooses YES chooses to sleep with Daemon the night of Laena's funeral, she did it cause she could care less about Laena and because she wanted to, she didn't need to rush to get with Daemon but she did it anyways because SHE DID NOT CARE ABOUT LAENA AND ONLY CARES ABOUT WHAT SHE WANTS! Sorry for the lengthy rant, but seeing how far people will go to defend Rhaenyra's actions and try to infantilze her in order to justify her actions piss me off and it's only going to get worst when Nettles steps onto the scene. They're already finding bullshit excuses to justify her degradation towards Nettles, which means it's just going to get worse. Laena's Character (and people need to shut the hell up about the books and stop using that as a pathetic excuse) did not deserve to be treated that way, Rhaenyra never liked her, she was all to happy to see 12 year old Laena married off the Viserys, she was glaring daggers at her while she danced with Daemon during the wedding feast and of course she could care less seeing Laena's casket dropped to the bottom on the ocean once that means she can get a chance to get with Daemon.

It's very weird. They know that it makes Rhaenyra look pathetic chasing after Daemon(who should’ve told her to f*ck off, but he seems to love the throne/Viserys more than anything so Rhaenyra was an easy way in) when his wife just died, asking him if he was happy with Laena, and begging him to marry her(if a man loves you, you don’t have to beg him for anything) so they come up with a million and one excuses to justify her behavior.

I’ve even seen them try to say that Laena was the one originally in the wrong cause she “stole” Daemon away from Rhaenyra so Rhaenyra was well within her right to go after and reclaim “her man”🫠 (Receipts because I know people will say I’m lying):

You are right that since Rhaenyra’s wedding, she’s behaved like a jealous cow towards Laena. There is no justification for that considering Daemon could’ve told Laena to f*ck off if he was actually in love with Rhaenyra, but nope. The wedding descends into chaos, Rhaenyra could be trampled, but where is Daemon? Off with Laena. Keep in mind that this is after her a** asks him to take her away and marry her(yes Missy Anne asked him twice🤣) which he doesn’t do, but you know who he does marry instead? Laena didn’t have to beg him to do it(their marriage was f*cked up but she never begged him to be with her. Home boy “chose” her 🤷🏽‍♀️).

Oh god, it’s no wonder why they still are obsessed with Laena 🤣 Imagine being “irrelevant” and having your story f*cked over because of racism, but you still have people mad and jealous of you for existing and making their fave “look bad.”

This is why I laugh when people claim that Dumbnyra has been portrayed as “soulmates” on the show. Like we clearly aren’t watching the same show. Rhaenyra is obsessed with Daemon, but his a** only sees her as a tool.

I’m getting a little distracted myself, but let’s keep in mind that these people justifying a grown a** Rhaenyra, being of sound mind and body, throwing herself at a freshly widowed man are the same ones throwing a hissy fit at Nettles being with Daemon.

If we use their logic, Daemon and Nettles love each other so even if Daemon cheats on Rhaenyra(i.e. unlike in the books they don’t have an open marriage) it should be all good because they can’t help it 🤷🏽‍♀️ They love one another, Daemon would die for Netty, and you just can’t keep a love like that apart. Nettles doesn’t owe Rhaenyra anything (including respect) just like Rhaenyra didn’t owe Laena anything. So it’s fine that Daemon left Rhaenyra’s a** to become dragon food😊 Rhaenyra shouldn’t be mad because it’s love. Right. Right🙃

[redhatmeg]

So now we get to the controversial part of Sanji's subplot: him calling Robin for help while being held hostage by Black Maria.

Earlier Sanji asked Black Maria what she's going to do with Robin, and the spider-woman told him about various tortures she's going to perform on Robin. She even describes traps she prepared for the archeologist.

Now, giving the various declarations of protection Sanji said throughout the series, and his strong sense of camraderie and defience, one would expect for him to never yield. The other women even think that he will say: "Screw you!"

But he doesn't. He calls for help, which from outsider's perspective looks probably pathetic, as if Sanji was preferring to save his own skin than not get Robin captured.

The thing is... Robin is fucking badass. She can handle herself and I would argue that she would perfectly suit with Monstrous Trio (making them a Monstrous Quartet, hehe) with how she effortlessly handles most of the bad guys. She also is smart enough to detect traps, so really they underestimate her (which is weird considering that she's called Demon Child).

I would say that he could ask for help anyone else, not necesserily Robin (he was, after all, okay with Zoro fighting Monet, so a guy friend could do too), but maybe he didn't know if they are busy with something more pressing than him falling into a trap. Besides, maybe he also wanted to show his enemies that Robin will mop the floor with them.

But I've heard this scene is controversial because people had seen Sanji's inability to hit a female opponent as something he has to overcome; as some kind of mental obstacle. Therefore him calling Robin for help is him refusing to fight with Black Maria and delegating someone else to do it.

However, I think it's like with characters who have no-kill rule. Yes, it would probably be easier and the character in question would avoid many troubles on the way if they broke the rule... but it's a moral issue, a line that, if crossed, would change them drastically and maybe even break them. Besides, there is always a deep reason for the rule that is rooted with the character's origin and way of thinking. With Sanji, it's Zeff's teachings... but also Germa's disregard for human life in general (we could see that Sanji's brothers also share his pervert reactions to women, but they treat them poorly, like tools; they even beaten up a female chef just to screw with Sanji). He doesn't want to be a man who hits women, even if said women want to kill him.

And I get why people are frustrated that he gets a female oppontent he can't fight yet again, but I don't want him to break his moral code. I don't want him to lose part of what he is. Especially because, other than that, he's still one of the heavy hitters of Straw Hat crew. Let him call for help once in a blue moon.

Also, he's not running away after he gets saved. He runs to save the samurai. He's still fighting.

[hereforthefanficsandromance]

The Way He Looks at You Series I:XIII

Act I: The Way He Looks at You Chapter 13: The Way He Visits You

Read on AO3 Read on Blogger Read on Tumblr Story Master List: The Way He Looks at You Series

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Chapter Summary

You make a new friend, and see an old one. Rating: 18+ Words: 3.1K

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The room feels empty now that Cal has left and you find yourself unsure what to do now that you have almost complete freedom. You have only spent a couple hours alone since the end of your relationship with Theo and being in a strange place makes the loneliness feel more extreme. You had been so excited to have this time, and now that it is here, you feel lost.

A wicked thought crosses your mind, the chance at escape, you have the resources to do so. There would be a significant head start before Cal would realize that you had run off, maybe enough time to warn your fellow Rebels and get them out of harm’s way. An opportunity to restart, away from the Empire and the Rebellion, away from all the pain that you have felt from both sides of the Force.

Is the risk worth it? You already made the choice, attempting an escape now is risky, maybe more than before when Cal had provided you the choice. Even if you had time to warn the others, you can imagine that Cal would hunt down everyone you cared for and then yourself with a vengeance once he realized your betrayal.

Is that what is keeping you here, fear? You aren’t sure, so you attempt to change how you ponder the feelings inside of you. If there was no risk of anyone being hurt or killed, would you still choose to stay? No immediate answer comes forward, so you sit on the edge of the bed and await clarity on the topic.

Mulling over your feelings for Cal confuses you more, he has given into your every desire and been fair considering his position in the galaxy. However, he did also seduce you in a moment of weakness. You haven’t exactly been in your right mind since Theo broke up with you.

You try to sift through who you are now versus who you were just a few days ago, but it’s hard to remember that person. Several days now feels like several years and you huff before falling backwards on the bed, staring at the texture on the ceiling.

Trying to think back to the woman you were when you first began piloting, before meeting Theo. She was determined but afraid; the determination won out. That woman wasn’t looking for safety in a man, just safety and peace for others. She wanted to do anything and everything possible to fight back against the Empire. You feel you hardly know that person.

Here you are, waiting for an Inquisitor to return to you; worrying for his safety while you spend his money. It’s almost pathetic, you hate yourself for succumbing to temptation. You can’t imagine how your old self would react to seeing what has become of you. There is a deep sense of shame in the decision.

Then another thought hits you, you didn’t agree to stay with just any Inquisitor; you stayed with Cal. He didn’t choose this life, and he is doing what he can to fulfill his duty while protecting who he can. There was even the implication that if the Empire should fall, he would abandon it for you. He isn’t evil; he is just as terrified of the power of the Empire as anyone.

You wonder if staying with Cal won’t do more good in the grand scheme of things. Had you left, Cal would fight back in the off chance the Rebellion attacks and wins. He would cause more loss of life in a last battle.

By staying, you ensure that if the future plays out how you hope it will, that one Inquisitor will leave and take no additional lives.

But if that day never comes, then your choice to stay only makes you compliant with everything you have fought against. There is no obvious answer on what makes sense, perhaps you’ll never know what choice is correct.

You sigh out a breath, so overwhelmed by all the conflicting thoughts in your head. There is half the day left and you are becoming hungry, so you sit up, shaking the conflict from your mind. You go into the bathroom to confirm your appearance is the way you want. Tugging awkwardly at the revealing dress, it doesn’t bother you when Cal is around, but the thought of others seeing so much of your skin makes you uncomfortable.

You finally give up your plight to be more modest and open the front door. You quickly lock up before heading down the stairs and out into the bright day. It takes a moment for your eyes to adjust to the invasive light, but once they do you look for a place to get some food.

There is a small food cart, and you grab something small and portable from the vendor. While you would love to have a full meal, you are also eager to visit the various shops. You eat the snack as you window shop, taken with all the stores in this area. The market is bustling and people seem less weary of you now that you are by yourself. You still receive many glances, likely because of your clothing, but there isn’t an innate fear of your presence.

A small bookshop sits at the corner of one street and you find yourself drawn inside. You feel at peace the moment you enter. It is quiet; the shelves crowded with novels. It is a perfect place to spend the afternoon. You wander through the aisles in no particular order, simply enjoying the peaceful environment. A beautiful book catches your eye and you pull it from the shelves to study the description. Finding a seat in the window to read the first chapter to help you make your decision.

You spend most of the afternoon in a fantastical bliss, going to and from the shelves with a new book in hand. Every time reading the first chapter before returning the book to its home and finding a new one. There was never much time for reading since losing your family. There was always work to be done in the Rebellion and you loved the work. But without direction, you want to find something new to keep your mind busy.

You find yourself lost in the first chapter of an interesting novel when you feel a tap on the shoulder. A small Gree woman is standing over you, clearly the owner of this establishment.

“Struggling to decide?” She asks in common tongue.

You look up at her, settling the book in your lap. “I’m afraid so, there are so many interesting stories and it may be awhile before I can buy another book. I don’t want to make the wrong choice.”

She nods thoughtfully, “That is the trouble with books, you may never return to the story you once loved.”

You frown, “I wish I didn’t have to choose.”

She studies you for a moment, “I may have what you need.”

You tilt your head at her in curiosity. “What do you mean?”

She takes the book from your lap and places it back in its home on the shelf. Then she takes your large hands in her small soft ones and pulls you to follow. You stand and follow without further question but wonder if you should be more resistant to following strangers. Cal said take no risks, but you don’t feel this woman is a threat.

She leads you to the back of the shop towards a rickety old door. You momentarily worry you shouldn’t follow her further, but you want to know what she has in mind. The tiny woman opens the door and pulls you into a room with a workbench and many electronic parts lining the walls.

“I have been working on something.” She says excitedly. “A new way to read, it will access all books available on local databases. The more you travel the more books you can find. You do travel often?” She asks, glancing at your heavy cloak.

“I do.” You say, looking back at her with equal excitement. “Your invention, it sounds amazing!”

She smiles wide at your enthusiasm. “It is, I made it after all. This is a prototype, I will sell it to you at a discounted price. You can test it out for me, send word if you like it or if it needs improvements.”

She hands you a thin book sized datapad. You examine it carefully and press the button to bring the device to life. A huge smile overtakes your face as you learn how the device works. The Gree woman helps teach you the nuances of the datapad. You are both beaming at one another, excited to have someone else match the thrill of a device to read endless books on.

After about an hour of learning how the device operates, you agree on a price. The cost is most of your spending money, but not all. If it works well, you will have endless entertainment when waiting for Cal while he works. The woman introduces herself as Kaahlii and provides you with a way to contact her through the datapad. You introduce yourself and she walks you back into the main store front to collect payment.

“Thank you Kaahlii, I am so grateful for your kindness and am very excited to use your invention.” You say as you hand over the credits.

You quickly realize that you have no way to store the device on your person and Kaahlii notices your strife. “No storage? No problem.”

She heads to a distant corner of the store and brings a black leather satchel large enough to fit your new device. You smile at her and agree on another price for the bag. Just as you are about to shake on the deal you see a package of folding papers for sale on the corner of the front desk.

“I’ll give you the rest of my credits for the bag and the folding papers.” You negotiate. She thinks for a moment then holds out her hand, you eagerly shake it with a smile and pass over your remaining spending credits. She opens the bag and places your datapad inside. Then she walks towards the folding papers counting up how many she has available, even looking under the desk to see if there are any additional.

You watch a bit confused. You had only wanted one package and aren’t sure why she is counting her inventory. She takes the entire stack and fills the remaining space in your bag with all the folding paper she can fit. You furrow your eyebrows but a grin is stuck on your face.

“For trying out my invention.” She says simply.

“You are too kind.” You say back as you pick up the satchel and wrap the strap across your body, ensuring to cover it with your cloak.

She gives you an approving nod and grasps your hands in hers once more. “I want a response when you have used it for enough time, an honest opinion on my work.”

“I will be in touch.” You say and squeeze her hands gently before turning to exit the store.

You are on cloud nine with the lovely afternoon you had in Kaahlii’s shop. There is a bit of shame in spending all your money so quickly, but you feel it was a wonderful investment, like it was always going to happen this way.

The small snack from earlier has worn off and you realize how hungry you are. You find a nearby eatery and order some food before taking a seat alone at a table in the corner. While you eat you eagerly pull out your reading datapad and power it up, searching for all books that you can get in the area. You spend lots of time adding as much as you can to the device, excited to have such easy access to so many lovely books.

“What are you doing here?” A familiar voice sounds to your left, standing at the edge of your table.

You look up, recognition setting in. “Theo?”

He stares at you in confusion before sliding into the seat opposite you. You look around nervously, fearful that Cal may show up suddenly; afraid of what would have to happen if the two saw one another.

Despite the fear, your heart leaps seeing him again. He is as attractive as ever, his messy dark hair falling into his kind gray eyes. They draw you in, reminding you of your relationship together, making you feel special. His looks are enough to make you feel heat between your legs, but you try to ignore it. Theo doesn’t want you, he made that very clear, lusting after him will only cause more trouble.

“Why are you here?” Theo says, his eyes show how concerned he is. “No one has seen you, I thought you went back to Yavin 4, but I contacted the base to ensure you got there safely and there was no word of your arrival.”

The thought of him still feeling concern for your safety warms you slightly. You want so badly for him to take you in his arms and tell you he still loves you. You realize you haven’t answered his question when he speaks again.

“What are you wearing?” He seems a bit horrified at your dress. Though you don’t miss his eyes traveling along the bare skin between your breasts. There is a whisper of lust in his eyes, his pupils dilate, but he seems to resist.

“Theo, I, it’s a long story. I had some things come up, I haven’t been able to rejoin the Rebellion. I’m not sure I ever will.” You try to explain, but you know it won’t be enough, he is going to push for more information.

“Why? I know how much fighting back means to you. Is this about…our conversation from the other morning?” He asks, looking ashamed.

“I suppose it started there.” You try to keep your tone even and not give away the hurt you feel. Unfortunately, your eyes don’t care and tears swell in your eyes.

“I didn’t want to hurt you, I never thought that you would leave the cause because of me.” He tries to explain hastily.

“You broke my heart.” You say slowly, wiping the tears from your eyes.

“I didn’t want it to be this way, I just realized after…that night…that I was falling away from the Jedi Code. There is danger in straying, it could lead me to the Dark Side.” He says quietly, trying to ensure that no one else hears the words he is speaking.

You scoff, “I don’t think that loving me will cause that.” You think about how silly this all sounds since being with Cal. He fell to the Dark Side, and it feels like loving you is pulling him away from it.

Theo frowns, the expression pulls at your heartstrings. Arguing with him won’t change his mind, and you don’t want to have this interaction be on bad terms. You don’t want to see him hurt.

“You don’t understand the training that I received. They forbid attachments.” He tries to reason.

“I don’t understand. You allowed us to date, but you waited until the worst possible moment to break things off. It made me feel insecure, and used.” You say to him pointedly.

He sits quietly, thinking over your words. “I am so sorry for hurting you in that way. I care for you so dearly and I was wrong to not end things before allowing it to go so far.” He says with genuine remorse.

His gray eyes pierce yours, different that Cal’s. Theo’s are soft and caring, he sees so easily into you and you feel calm and safe in his presence. It feels impossible to hold a grudge and you sigh in exasperation.

“I know, it just still hurts.” You mumble.

There is a beat of silence that washes over you both. You are trying to soothe your pain. Theo observes you, wishing he could help.

“What brought you here?” Theo asks, attempting to change the subject.

You feel so torn; you want to tell him the truth, the man whom you have trusted for the past couple years should know. It feels wrong to hide anything from him. But Theo is no longer your boyfriend, and telling him anything would only endanger him.

“I can’t tell you.” You whisper.

Theo sighs, wishing to get more information, he is clearly worried for your safety.

“How long are you staying?” He tries.

“Five days including today.” You answer honestly, there is nothing wrong with providing this information and you feel grateful to speak some truth to him.

You so desperately want to ask for information on the Rebellion, to learn who is still working to fight back against the Empire. To know if any major breakthroughs have come about in the few days that you have been away. But you know better, any information you learn will quench your need for knowledge, but it will put others in danger.

“Is your reason for being here to help the fight?” Theo asks, looking with desperation in his eyes.

You are technically here because you are helping the fight, you just can’t fight anymore. “Something like that.” You say slowly.

Theo nods, “You need to be careful, there is an Inquisitor in the area, I saw one of their ships. I am unsure which one but I do not want you to be in danger.”

He looks at you, waiting for a reaction, knowing how much you fear their kind, especially after what happened to your family. Theo seems more concerned when you don’t react.

“Are you okay? Did you already know?” He implores.

“I was aware.” You say, “You need to leave, the Inquisitors will quickly sniff you out.”

He gives you a charming smile, showing off his white teeth. “I do not fear the Inquisitors, I heard that the one here works alone. Also, I can’t leave now that I know you are here. I need to know you are safe.”

You tremble, realizing that Cal will hunt Theo down if he does not leave you alone. “Please, Theo, you need to leave, I am okay on my own. I’m stronger than I once was.” You feel you are begging.

Theo only shakes his head, “I have to go, I have work to do, but I’ll be around. Please stay safe.”

You watch as Theo stands and heads for the door before disappearing into the early evening crowds. Taking some calming breaths you finish your remaining meal and pack up your things. The sun is setting and you need to get back to the room.

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Need to Rant with Others Who Have Read This Story?

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Next Chapter: The Way He Returns to You

[goatpaste]

What’s a candy wife 🫣

Ahhh it's kinda a term that spawned from my friend group that's we've spread around in a small radius amongst others lol

But it originally started as a term for 'a fake made up wife' based on candy wife from the marvelous misadventures of flapjack

Like for example, saying like 'I dont beleive that guy has a wife, she's got to be a candy wife or something' in the idea that it's a wife fabricated

Then that evolved into 'fictional idea of a wife, the ideal woman who I would want to be a candy wife to me' which the traits mostly comprised of traits of woman's I likes. It was a joke to me as a single man of the type of person I wanted lol

Which involved like a New Jersey woman, would probably cut my breaks and push me off a balcony or hit me with hammers because she loves me, crazy, type of woman you have a meet cute with in the form of she hits me with her car and manages to blame me for it

Which that has evolved more into a general concept with like, a sorta solid list of traits for what makes up a candy wife and if an individual can make up a solid percent of those traits they could be classified as a candy wife. Doesn't have to have all the traits at once but just a chunk of them

Some traits including

Crazy

Wants to torture their pet husband, usually in funny ways

Would kill for their husband over

New jersey

Leopard print, wine mom paraphernalia

Whore behaviors

Some PRIME top examples of candy wives to me

Fran from the Nanny

Debbie jellinsky from Addams family

Tiffany Valentine from Childs Play

Holli Would from Cools World

Siren from What We Do in the Shadows

Katya Zamolodchikova from Drag queen fame

Candy wives don't have to be just girls tho, there are also male candy wives,their similar bur do carry their own vibe, examples of that would be

Gyro Majima from Yakuza

The king of all Cosmos from Katamari

Preminger from barbie princess in the pauper

Mettaton from undertale

Just to name a few

And their different from husband's of Candy wives, candy wives either are gonna be candy wife for candy wife, often very funny or enabling of each other

or they will often go after 'candy wife prey' which usually entails a very pathetic husband who is obsessed with their candy wife

I literally have a twittee dedicated to daily posting of candy wives for anyone interested in further understanding what can be considered a candy wife :]