#if someone wants to groom you they *will* find some way to groom you

[coockie8]

if the writer has put that nasty shit out into the world then my abuser wouldnt have been able to use it to grrom me so actually yeah the writer is worse

And if your abuser had, instead, used puppies or candy to groom you, would you be calling for the eradication of Kennel Clubs and the Hershey Chocolate Corporation?

Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but if that fanfiction hadn't existed, your abuser would've just found something else to groom you with, because that's what abusers do; they abuse.

[lologoinsolo]

A continuation of this post! Tw: the word Daddy is mentioned but not in a sexual way!

Cats and Their Men Masterlist, Part 3

A week passed since that guy came in. You hope that the kitten's okay, the guy seems much better than you thought him to be. You did wonder if that was blood on the bills he gave when your manager had counted the register for the night. It looked a lil too red for your taste. But everyone has their secrets and you’re not about to ask that tank of a man if he killed someone or just happened to prick his finger. Still though you hope Bailey is faring much better with him than in the could and… you hope he comes back.

Sunday’s the worst but you managed to persuade your coworker to take over your register. Truck had just came in with so many things for the store and your managers are scrambling to get it all on the sales floor.

Humming along to the song from your earphones. The perks about stocking is that you hardly get bothered by your coworkers. No one likes to restock the numerous bedding and litter and pet clothing so you jumped at the chance to do it. Gives you some peace and quiet save for when the customers will tap at your shoulder. You’ll plaster a smile and use your “customer voice” to point them to where they need a certain item and then get back to stocking. You really should find a way to just work with animals. Maybe you can talk to your manager to see if you can try grooming instead of—

“Girl!”

You jerk and nearly ruin the stack of dog cans you had just put up when someone grabs your arm. “Jesus, Jess,” glaring at your manager when you give her a scathing glare. Coincidentally this one’s the grooming manager. “What’s the matter?” Normally she wouldn’t be out of the grooming salon but the stores been short staffed and cutting corners. She’s been running around having to manage the store floor and hers.

“What’s the matter,” she scoffs, “the matter is your boyfriend is asking for you.” Boyfriend? “He’s a real asshole, ya know. We paged you twice over the intercom. Did you not— are you wearing headphones?” You wince when her voice gets screechy. You pull on your earphones and sigh, it’s an unspoken rule to not wear earphones but that literally never stops her groomers from wearing them.

“Jess, I don’t have a boyfriend.” Rolling your eyes as you give her a once over. Her hands land on her hips and you inwardly sigh. “What does he even look like? Did he say my name?” A little hopeful and also very worried because why is there a man claiming to be your boyfriend and why did your manager come get you for this? “I’m sure he’s one of the customers that’s been bitching lately. The fish tanks aren’t on sale anymore maybe he—“

“He’s not here for fish.” Cutting you off, “he asked for you. I thought he was your boyfriend cause he knew you were working right now.” The alarms start going off in your head. “Look, just go see what he wants.”

“Jess, I don’t know who this man is. Why didn’t you tell him I was like— I don’t know, not working?!”

“Because he’s refusing to fucking leave and he looks like he’s apart of the goddamn mafia!” She yells and you blink at her. Your anger boils to a simmer when she mentions what he looks like.

“Wait, wait… is he wearing a black mask? The ones people wore during COVID?” She nods and you pinch your nose hard. This motherfucker, “okay… I know him. He found a kitten a week ago. I told him to come find me. I didn’t think he’d remember my name because my name tag is so small.” Sighing loudly and stepping around her. “I’ll go talk to him.”

“Good, he’s given us all a fright and I really don’t need this right now. Bella bit the shit out of Felix and now I’m down a groomer.”

“Okay,” nodding as she tells you her woes. It’s been hard all around cause there’s not many workers but you’ll take a mask wearing customer over a shih tzu that’s known to bite. Fixing your shirt and putting on a smile when the figure that’s haunting the grooming salon takes one look at you and starts walking to you— quickly. “Evening, good to see you again. How can I—“

“She’s not eating any of the shit you told me to buy.” He cuts you off and you wonder if you’re actually just made of paper with how everyone cuts you off. There’s a black scarf he’s wearing and you notice a little bit of movement. This guy seems to favor black considering the matching jacket and pants color scheme.

You pull a face and turn to your side when he steps right in front of you. Jesus, he’s tall. Craning your neck to look up at him. “Sir, you have a weeks worth of three different foods?” Is she refusing to eat all of them? “It’s only been a week. Are you sure she’s—“

“Gave her a different one each day and she ain’t eating.” He tilts his head down, “why?” You swallow a bit when he glares at you. You wonder if whoever pisses him off gets to see this last before they get knocked the fuck out.

“You?” Shriveling up slightly, “wait,” once it runs through what he says it starts to click in your head. “You gave her a different one each day. You’re not supposed to do that.” Now it’s your turn to glare at him, “you’re supposed to ease her out into a new one before letting her try it suddenly.” You gave him the kitten version of chicken, beef, and salmon. You had a feeling that she was probably eating literal garbage and wanted her to try the chicken first. It’s your usual go to for new kittens.

“News to me,” he crosses his heavy arms over his chest. “Should’ve told me that.”

“I did tell you…” you start to trail off when you realize that you in fact did NOT tell him that. You just assumed he would know that. Goddamnit. “Okay,” he cocks an expectant brow, “maybe I forgot to mention but you didn’t ask. I thought you knew.” A measly form of an apology and taht doesn’t seem to settle him

“I told you I need things for the little shit. You made me buy those things,” he takes a step forward, “expensive things and now she’s waking me up all hours of the damn night because she’s hungry.” Your throat must be very dry from how hard you swallow. “What you didn’t tell was how to feed her.” His hands ball and flex.

Rubbing the back of your neck, you realize that maybe you are more in the wrong than your pride wishes to admit. “Look I,” taking a breath, “I’m sorry. It’s on me, I should’ve told you. I would’ve given you one of those first time pamphlets but we ran out.” Feeling like how a bug feels under a boot with how you tremble out an apology. “Was there one that she seemed interested in the most? Some cats like the chicken more while others prefer the salmon.” Maybe you can give him some wet cans to entice his little pet. A small thing like her shouldn’t be without food and you start to feel worse.

“She sniffed more at the salmon.”

“Okay, that’s good.” Perking up and you turn on your heel. “Come on, I’ll buy you some wet cans.” Before he can even protest you cut him off finally. “Look, I feel horrible, it’s the least I can do. Plus I get discounts.” Giving him a wink and he doesn’t give you anything other than a curt nod. You grab the salmon wet cans, the kitten ones, and you pray to the gods that Bailey will eat it so her dad won’t kill you. “Try the wet cans, see if that’ll work. If not then you’ll have to try for a different one. There’s a brand here that sells rabbit and turkey, a bit expensive.” You laugh shortly, “but cats have sensitive stomachs. They don’t mean to be picky.”

“Might not be picky but she sure as hell like to run my money.”

You huff a small laugh at his expense, “you should see the bills I’ve seen that get racked up here.” You skip the line to head to your register. Ringing it up and usually you’re not supposed to use your own discount for others but you’re not willing to risk mafia guy’s anger. Bagging it and passing it to him for him but he doesn’t grab it right away “Is there… is there something else you need?” You ask and he takes the bag from you finally.

He mulls over your words for a second and then says. “Need a collar,” he tilts his head to the side and out pokes Bailey’s itty bitty head from his scarf. You nearly scream when you see her but manage to bite your tongue on time. “Here,” he pulls her out and she lets out a disgruntled meow. He plops her down in your waiting arms. “Scratched up my neck.” He grumbles under his breath when he fixes his scarf back up. The kitten simply purrs in your arms when you coo and run from her nose to head. A glutton for love and you readily give it to her. “Find something for her.” He waves offhandedly once his scarf looks decent around his neck once more.

“Do have a specific—“ you trail off again when his eyes squint down at you. Right… he doesn’t really care. “Okay, I’ll be right back.” He grunts an acknowledgment and you walk off with the cutest little baby. She keeps pulling at your chest, seems eager to get to your shoulders and you wonder if she does that to her dad all the time. “Hmmmm,” looking from all the collars that the store sells. “You’re too tiny,” you hold her up like the monkey did the lion cub, a little sad that there’s not much that’ll fit her. “But,” noticing a small blue collar that shines slightly, “this could fit. It’ll give you enough room to grow into as well.” It’s a cat collar designed to unclasp if it gets snagged hard onto something. And knowing this curios kitten, she’ll need it.

Bailey doesn’t seem to mind when you let her sniff at it till the collar comes on and then she’s desperate to figure out what’s around her neck. Her back legs kicking at the edge of the collar and you cup her so she won’t tug it off. “Your daddy wants you wearing that so you gotta get used to it.” He could train her to walk on a harness later but that does take a good amount of training and

“Daddy, huh?”

You jolt from your thoughts and squeeze a little too tight around Bailey. She lets out a little hiss and you blubber an apology. “I didn’t— that’s not what I—“ the ‘daddy’ in question seems far too amused with how you stutter. “I uh… I thought you were at the front?” Coughing to push past your embarrassment. Petting Bailey as an apology on her sides and under her chin. She doesn’t forgive easily as she gives you a well deserved nips. You murmur a sorry to her and she squints up at you.

“Thought you got lost.” He comes around and pulls his kitten from your hands, he took a little longer to get her out but maybe you’re thinking too hard. You were taking a bit down the aisle but you wanted her to have a nice collar that fit her well. The heat from his fingers though makes your own cheeks warm slightly. When did he get that close and also why didn’t you hear him walking up? “Looks good,” he holds Bailey up and moves her around like she’s a little jewel. “Blue suits her.” He pushes her back inside his scarf and you can faintly hear her little purrs. A slight movement of the fabric before she settles right up against his neck.

Clearing your throat slightly, some strands of hair falls a bit forward but you’re still a bit squirmy to fix it. “I knew she would look good in blue. It matches her, I can buy it for you as well. I don’t min—“ your eyes widen when he moves his hand to tuck those loose strands back behind your ear. You stare up wide at him and he stares down at you. Nothing in his eyes give away an ounce of an emotion despite how you look. To his credit, he may have not meant to do that with how quickly he puts his hand down. “Uh… I— sir?” You manage to squeak out and his mask twitches slightly.

He flexes his hand that touched you and leaves you standing there bewildered, confused and your cheeks burning up so much that you might consider it to be a fever. You don’t follow him when he took off without giving an answer but you do touch your ear. The phantom feeling of his fingers makes butterflies flutter in your stomach. “What the fuck?” You murmur under your breath.

…

The next day you manage to get to work with little sleep from how you tossed and turned. You sorta waited more around your register to see if the man would come back but to your disappointment… he doesn’t. You take it in stride and continue about your day. Just as you’re about to clock out a man with a charming smile and model worthy appearance comes in holding a kitten in his hands and says, “I was told by my friend to ask you for help with cats. Can you help me, love?”

[pedroscurls]

runaway bride (one-shot)

summary: on the day of your wedding, you find out that your maid of honor and husband-to-be has been hooking up behind your back... and you run directly into the arms of a stranger to help you cope with the sudden betrayal. pairing: old man!logan x fem!reader content warnings: smut (18+, mdni), oral - f receiving, dirty talk, manhandling, light choking, unprotected p in v sex (be safe folks!), doggy style, cowgirl, public sex in his limo, creampie but logan just keeps going, mentions of cheating (but not from logan), toxic relationship / friendship, implied age gap (but no mention of how old reader is), no use of y/n. word count: 3.6k a/n: ok, this is complete filth. i'm not even sure how this story came about or how it even came to mind, but here it is... i wanted to write old man logan so badly so what better way to do that is to write a smutty one-shot???

“Are you fucking serious?!” you exclaim, having opened the door to see your fiancé and your maid of honor in a heated kiss, hands exploring each other’s bodies. They both pull away from each other abruptly, eyes widening as the sudden realization of getting caught now settling in.

“Baby, it’s not–”

“Fucking save it.” You remove your engagement ring and toss it in his general direction, tears trickling the corners of your eyes. 

Your best friend tries to step forward, but you raise your hand in the air and glare at her. “Don’t fucking get near me or I will lay you on your ass.”

“I’m sorry–” your fiancé begins to say.

“We’re done.” you interrupt, anger fuming in your veins. “You can go out there and tell everyone that the wedding’s canceled because fuck you,” you tell him and then point to your maid of honor, your best friend of over fifteen years. “And fuck you.” 

You don’t even bother to hear their protests, already having turned on your heel and left the building without telling anyone. You see two limos parked out front, knowing that one belonged to your bridal party and the other belonging to your fiancé and his groomsmen. You don’t have time to think which one was the limo you rode in, already wanting to leave far, far away from here. 

Pulling open the door, you slide inside and then finally allow yourself to let the tears fall. You bury your face in your hands, your breaths coming in pants. 

“Just– Just take me anywhere else but here,” you tell the driver, looking up and expecting to see the same driver from this morning. When you realize it’s someone else entirely, you bite your lower lip and shake your head. Of fucking course you chose the limo that your fiancé had been in.

“A bit early to be leaving your own wedding, isn’t it?” he says, looking at you from the rearview mirror.

“Yeah, well, the wedding is off. Can you just take me away from here?” 

Logan clears his throat. It doesn’t take a genius to know what might have happened, but he also knows that you’re not the one who he’s meant to drive and he’s certainly aware that you aren’t the one who’s going to be paying him either. 

“Listen, darlin’, I’m supposed to be driving the groom and–”

“Well, he can go fuck himself. Can you please just drive?”

“Last I checked, he’s paying me and you ain’t.”

“Oh, he’s gonna still pay you. Now, drive.” you tell him, holding his gaze. “Please.”

Logan stares at you. He isn’t sure what exactly happened, but based on the conversations he heard the groom and groomsmen having earlier that morning, he has some idea that it had to do with the groom cheating on you. He just lets out a grunt and then starts the engine, pulling away from the curb and driving away from the venue.

He doesn’t know where he’s supposed to go or where you want to go, so he just drives. Logan continuously looks at you from the rearview mirror, now fully taking in your features. Logan wasn’t a man who ever cheated on a woman he was with; he’s always been so loyal, especially to the ones he cares about the most. He never understood why men (and women) cheat, why they just couldn’t end the relationship if they were no longer happy. 

He hears you sniffling from the backseat and Logan slowly comes to a stop at a red light. He turns his head to look at you from over his shoulder. “Bub, you gotta tell me where you wanna go or else I’m just gonna keep charging him.”

“Good. Let’s take a trip to fucking Mexico and make him pay for it,” you say through gritted teeth. 

Logan lets out an amused chuckle and then presses lightly on the gas once the light turns green. He keeps one hand on the steering wheel as he uses his free hand to enter Mexico on his phone and–

“Wait, I wasn’t serious.”

“No? Then, where do you wanna go, darlin’?”

“I don’t know,” you whisper. “Anywhere but here.” you mumble to yourself.

Logan nods to himself and then sets his focus on the road ahead of him. He doesn’t know where to go, but he does find that he doesn’t want this ride to end. Even in the silence, he finds your presence soothing, comforting. He knows you’re having a shitty day – after all, you probably had woken up this morning expecting to be married by the end of today. 

He does keep stealing glances at you, finding you completely captivating. Even when your eyes meet his from the rearview mirror, Logan feels like he had been caught staring and a blush slowly blooms across the side of his neck. He’s too old to be feeling like this, like some kind of a teenager with a crush on the most beautiful girl who’s out of his league.

“How about some food?” Logan asks after driving for about twenty minutes. “Are you hungry?” 

“No.”

“Okay,” he sighs. “Wanna go to a bar? Drink your problems away?”

“No.”

Logan tightens his jaw and then pulls into a gas station, putting the car in park as he turns around to look at you. You bite your lower lip, getting a good view of just how handsome your driver is. He’s definitely older than you, gray in his beard and hair, crow’s feet at his eyes, but you can’t help the attraction you feel towards him. Suddenly, you’re well aware that you’re staring too long at him because when you finally meet his eyes, he’s smirking. 

“Why’d we stop?” you ask.

“Gotta fill up, especially if I don’t know how long I’ll be driving you around,” Logan replies. “You want anything from inside?” 

Just as the question leaves his lips, you climb out from the backseat and walk inside. Logan sighs and steps out of the limo as he follows you into the small store. He towers over you and he can’t help but get a good look at the dress you’re wearing. You look so angelic, so beautiful and serene – how could anyone think that there’s better than you? 

“Get whatever you want,” Logan calls out and you suddenly turn around to look up at him. He watches your lower lip pull itself between your teeth, sees your eyes take in his frame from top to bottom, and suddenly, he feels very shy under your gaze. Logan clears his throat, eyes narrowing. “What?” 

“Nothing,” you say, tilting your head up at him. “Just didn’t think… Well, not all limo drivers look like you.” 

“Not all limo drivers are like me either,” he mutters to himself. “Right. I’ll be up at the front. Just meet me there once you’re ready.” Then, Logan turns on his heel and slowly limps his way to the front, only glancing over his shoulder to briefly look at you. Your back’s already turned as you reach for a few items in the freezer section. 

After a few minutes, you meet Logan at the front of the store and drop two bottles of water and a cherry-flavored popsicle. Logan eyes you suspiciously, but you keep your eyes trained on your feet. He has to wonder if your mind is drifting to your fiancé. Once Logan pays the cashier, he motions for you to walk ahead of him with a slight nod and then he follows you outside. Logan quickly limps to the door and opens it for you, staring down at you. 

“Here,” you tell him, handing him one of the bottle of waters. 

Logan arches a brow. “Thanks,” he mumbles, the close proximity almost making him weak in the knees. His eyes deviate to your cleavage, clearing his throat when his mind begins to drift. All Logan can think about is seeing you come undone underneath him, trembling and moaning because of him. He has to take a step back, has to create some distance between your bodies. 

You then remove the wrapping of the popsicle and then wrap your lips around it, the deep red popsicle now coloring your lips. You keep your eyes locked on his and smile mischievously before you climb back inside. Logan shuts the door once you’re inside, the image of your lips around the popsicle giving him a clear image of your lips wrapping around his–

He hears the window roll itself down and Logan quickly walks around to the other side to fill up the tank, not bothering to look into the backseat as he feels the center of his black pants begin to tighten with each passing second. 

Logan hasn’t been intimate in a very long time, his main concern being Charles and his own health, but you… Well, you’re stirring something in Logan that he thought lay dormant. He craves you and he knows that you’re also very vulnerable, having just ran away from your own wedding after finding out your fiancé was cheating on you. Logan doesn’t want to take advantage of you, despite sensing that you might want him too. 

Once the tank is filled up, Logan then walks back to the driver’s seat and climbs in, starting the car. He looks at you from the rearview mirror, still sucking on the fucking popsicle with a dark gaze in your eyes. 

“Where to?” he says, not realizing how quiet his voice comes out.

“Anywhere.”

“Making it real difficult for me, bub.”

You pull the popsicle away from your mouth a quiet pop! and then lets a small smile line your lips, deeply red from your cherry-flavored popsicle. Logan’s hands grip the steering wheel, his knuckles turning white and his claws threatening to come out as a result. 

“Fine. How about your place?” 

Logan lets out a quiet cough, not thinking that you’d be so forward and straight to the point. He shakes his head and then looks over at you from over his shoulder. “Don’t think that’s a good idea, darlin’. You’re only going to regret it and–”

“Listen, I just found out my fiancé and maid of honor were screwing around behind my back. The only regret I have right now is saying yes to marry that man and being friends with that woman. I don’t think I’m going to regret fucking you, though.”

Logan isn’t used to women saying what they want as bluntly as you do and it excites him. He doesn’t answer, just begins driving away from the gas station. He’s so hard beneath his pants, glancing over at you and seeing your eyes locked completely on his. He pulls up into an abandoned parking lot and parks the car, thankful that the windows on his limo are tinted. Logan climbs out from the driver’s seat and then opens the door to the backseat, gently reaching out to take the popsicle from your hands and tossing it over his shoulder. 

“Let’s have you suck something else, huh, darlin’?” 

You grin and then gently tug on the lapel of his jacket, pulling him inside with you as you shut the door behind him. You’re glad that the backseat of his limo is actually rather spacious because now that he’s hovering above you, he seems so much bigger than you, so much more broad. Your hands immediately move across his chest, feeling the chiseled muscles underneath your fingertips.

“I don’t normally do this,” Logan groans, feeling your lips move along the side of his neck, teeth grazing his skin.

“And what’s that? Fuck your passengers?” 

He growls lowly, moving his strong hands to your hips and pressing himself firmly against your lower half as he settles himself between your legs. “You always got a mouth on you?” 

You smirk and pull the ends of your dress higher up your legs until you bunch it at your hips, your white lace panties in full view for him. “Only when I want something.”

“Yeah, and what do you want?” Logan asks, hands moving to play with the waistband of your panties. 

“A distraction,” you grip the lapels of his jacket and bring him down to press your lips against his. He growls against your lips and tugs down your panties, hand moving quickly to your folds and running the length of his finger across your wet heat. 

Logan slides two fingers into you, not giving you time to get used to his thick digits. You let out a quiet gasp, pulling away from his lips to toss your head back at the intrusion. Logan moves you to sit back against the seat as he lies on his abdomen, lowering himself until his head settles between your legs. 

Your eyes widen at the sight of him between your legs, your fiancé having never done this for you. When you feel his mouth latch onto your clit, his tongue flicking against your bundle of nerves repeatedly as his fingers thrust in and out you, you have to let out a loud moan. Your hands move to his hair, gripping it tightly as your arousal drips onto the leather seat. 

Logan pulls his fingers out of you and laps at your juices. He stares up at you, watching as you toss your head back in ecstasy, your mouth agape as continuous moans escape your lips, and he can feel your walls begin to tremble, begin to tighten around his tongue. Logan knows his joints and muscles are going to ache after this, but he knows it’s going to be worth it. Knows that he’s going to want to do this again with you. 

With his free hand, Logan undoes the buckle on his belt, followed by undoing the zipper and button on his pants. He pushes his slacks and boxers down his legs to relieve the pressure against his manhood. He pulls back to look up at you, his chin and beard dripping wet from your slickness. 

“Gonna fuck you now,” he growls. 

“About fucking time.” 

Logan narrows his eyes and moves up your body, hand coming up to rest on your throat. He leans down and gently nips at your jawline until his forehead rests against yours, eyes staring deeply into your own. 

“You like this, don’t you, bub?” Logan whispers huskily, the grip around your throat tightening to add a bit of pressure. You gasp, eyes staring up at him as you feel the tip of his length brush against you repeatedly. The grip around your throat only makes you wetter and you lift your hips impatiently, chasing his hardened length to slide down onto him.

“So impatient,” he grins. Logan releases his grip around your throat and then grabs your hips, turning you over onto your stomach. He grabs you roughly, pulling you back into him as he grips the fabric of your dress. He pulls you to prop yourself on your hands on knees as he kneels behind you, gripping the base of his manhood as he rubs his tip along the length of your sex. 

“Please!” you say impatiently, trying to push back against him. 

Logan smirks and then pushes himself into your tight heat, not wasting any time in filling you to the hilt. He groans at your wetness, at the warmthness of your walls, the tight hold it has around his girth. He pulls back to his tip, only to slam back into you. Logan was telling the truth that he’s never done this before. Driving had only been a way for him to get extra cash, to keep his mind busy, and he certainly didn’t have time for this, but now he can’t even imagine parting ways with you after this. 

His thrusts continue, your walls sliding along his manhood and milking him with every movement. Logan moves to rest his chest firmly against your back, his lips hovering near your ear as you moan continuously with each thrust he delivers. 

“This what you wanted, huh, bub?” Logan growls, gently nipping at you earlobe. “Wanted me to fuck you like this?” He thrusts roughly into you, his skin slapping against yours. 

“Y–Yes!” you exclaim, slowly pushing your own hips back into his. Logan groans, leaning away from you and briefly pausing his movements to watch you move along him. He grunts to himself, lightly slapping your backside as he watches you push back against him. 

Logan watches himself disappear within your depths, only to reappear when you pull back, his entire length glistening with your arousal. He groans to himself and gently pulls out of you. You’re about to protest when he sits against the backseat and grabs you by the hips, placing you to sit on his lap. He grips your dress and rips it in half, causing a loud gasp of surprise to leave your lips. 

“Sorry,” he mumbles. 

“Fuck the dress,” you reassure him. “I didn’t pay for it anyway.” 

Logan smirks and then feels you lower yourself down onto him, groaning at your tight walls wrapping itself once more around him. He reaches around and undoes your white lace bra, watching it fall from your body as you now sit firmly on his lap, completely naked and exposed for him. 

“Fuck me,” he grunts, watching your breasts bounce with your movements. He feels your hands begin to undo the buttons on his white button down shirt, removing it from his body. Today, he opted to forgo his usual white tank top, so when you lean in to press your chest against his, he can’t help but groan at the sensation of your erect nipples pressing firmly against him.

Logan feels your walls begin to tremble with each movement and he leans in to press his lips against yours, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. With one hand, he moves to grip your throat lightly, sliding his tongue past your lips when you let out a loud moan. He stares up at you, thrusting his hips upwards when your body begins to shake and the grip around your throat only tightens a smidge to cause pressure. 

Your eyes shut tightly and you reach down to grip his shoulders, slamming yourself firmly onto his lap as he feels you to the hilt. Logan doesn’t falter his movements though, chasing his own release. It comes out of nowhere there, hand dropping from the grip around your throat to grab his base, thrusting upwards once, twice, before he pulls out to see his release trickle out of you. 

You’re breathing heavily and you’re looking at him with a small smile and hooded eyes. When he looks down between your legs, his come continuing to trickle down your leg, it only ignites a fire inside of him and he suddenly feels hard again. 

“One more, bub,” Logan growls. “One more.” He thrusts his tip inside of you, grunting lowly before he slides back into you, hands gripping the meat of flesh on your thighs as he feels the stickiness of your arousal mixed in with his come against the base of his lower half. 

Your nails dig into his shoulders, dragging them down his arms as your walls are already overly sensitive. Logan doesn’t falter, but his thrusts do become more erratic. “Oh god,” you whimper, trying to pull yourself away from him, but Logan holds you firm on his lap, making you take his assault on you. 

You wanted a distraction and you were certainly getting it. 

Logan leans up and gently nips at your jawline as he plants his feet on the floor of his limo, driving his hips further upwards. He does this a few more times before he holds you against him, releasing into you a second time as he paints your walls with his thick spend. He’s breathing heavily, forehead resting against your chest as his hands on your thighs move to rest on your hips. 

“I uh, fuck,” he mumbles. “I should have asked first and–”

“Stop,” you interrupt. “I like that I can still feel you inside of me,” you smile, feeling him slowly pull out. Even though you miss his girth, his release remains and fills you up. You reach down to wipe the trickle of his come off your inner leg and capture it on the pads of your fingertips. You stare into his eyes and then bring your fingers to your lips, wrapping your lips around it and sucking his release off of it. “Mmm, yum.”

Logan growls, feeling his length stir awake once more. “That want you wanted?” he asks again. “A distraction?”

“Yeah,” you nod. “But I think I’m gonna want more distractions from you.”

Logan smirks. “That so, bub?”

“Oh yeah, I need someone to help me through this breakup,” you say honestly. “As long as that’s okay with you…”

Logan nods and then looks down at your exposed front, hand coming up to slowly knead your breast into the pit of his palm. “Yeah, baby. That’s more than okay with me.”

You grin excitedly, letting out a quiet whimper. “So… Your place then?”

“My place,” he confirms. “But how about you ride up front with me?” 

“Yes, please. I do want a taste of you,” you bite your lower lip, hand moving to gently run your fingertip along the length of his manhood. “And I want to do it while you’re driving.”

Logan groans. “Oh, you’re fucking naughty, aren’t you?” 

You nod shyly, biting the inside of your cheek. “I’ve been suppressed,” you admit. “My sex life has been… boring, to say the least.” 

“Blessing in disguise,” Logan points out. “Thank god you’re not getting married to a man who doesn’t take care of your needs.” He leans in and then pecks your lips. “Don’t worry, though, bub. I’m happy to take care of you until then.” 

---

forever taglist: @haytchee @wolverigrl

[swanlikely]

Current Brainrot: Helping Husband Nanami! Unwind

Author's Note: This scrumptious gem graced my timeline today, and I couldn't resist writing a fic about it. Do yourself a favor and follow the artist on Twitter, and while you're at it, check out her Patreon—it's totally worth it! (Artist & Her Patreon)

not proof-read! (sorry if there are any errors - let me know and i'll fix it!)

CW: AFAB! reader, usage of she/her, handjob (m! receiving), oral (m! receiving), pet names, role-play (prostitution), public sex

word count: 2k

✧₊🦢🫖₊✧✧₊🦢🫖₊✧✧₊🦢🫖₊✧✧₊🦢🫖₊✧✧₊🦢🫖₊✧✧₊🦢🫖₊✧✧₊🦢🫖₊✧✧₊🦢🫖

Nanami was the epitome of dedication, tirelessly clocking in countless hours at the office to ensure his sweet wife lived in the lap of luxury. He was a gentleman in every sense. Yet, sometimes, this relentless work ethic could be his Achilles' heel.

Stress was making its unwelcome presence known in Nanami, with shadows deepening under his honey-gold eyes and the weight of the world pressing down on his broad shoulders. He was beat. After surviving yet another grueling twelve-hour shift, he was at his limit. All he craved was to return home to you, his loving wife.

And as his loving wife, you couldn't miss the signs. You saw how he would collapse into bed like stone after a long day, too exhausted to even finish his dinner. You heard the frustrated groans as he dragged himself out of bed each morning. But most importantly, you felt the strain in your bedroom.

Not to say Nanami wasn't satisfying you—quite the opposite, he was only satisfying you.

Despite his exhaustion, his touch was tender yet fervent, his kisses a mix of urgency and devotion. He'd make sure to lap at your cunt each night, with his talented tongue. Letting you know just how much he loved you, how he put your needs above his own. But that was exactly it—what about him? It worried you to no end; all you wanted to do was make sure your husband was happy. Seeing him give so much of himself, you felt a uncomfortable combination of gratitude and concern. You wanted to reciprocate, to show him the same level of care and passion. You longed to ease his burdens, to be his sanctuary just as he was yours. The thought of him carrying all that weight alone tugged at your heart, and you resolved to find a way to bring balance, to ensure he was taken care of as well.

Which was exactly why you weren't at home, playing the doting wife as always, but leaning up against his car hood, dressed in something completely out of character for you.

Fishnets, Daisy Duke shorts, and a tank top that hugged every curve clung to your body, making you a walking temptation. You watched your husband approach the car through glittery, half-lidded eyes. Letting out an exaggerated whistle, you purred, "Well, hello handsome," catching your husband's eyes.

He was just a few steps away, his furrowed brows and confused smile giving away his exhaustion. The dark circles under his eyes were still visible, and his button-up shirt was slightly wrinkled. It had clearly been another long day for him, and you were ready to melt away all that stress. But you couldn't do it as his wife; no, you needed to become someone else entirely. You had to offer him an escape from reality.

"What're you doing here, sweetheart?" he asked, his voice gruff and drawn out. His hair was still neatly groomed, and oh, you wanted to make a mess of that. Make a mess of him. "Also, I'm not one to tell you what to wear, but this is different." His eyes roamed your body, lingering over your breasts to the tips of your black heels. He was right, this was different.

"Mmhm, you like?" You bite down on your glossy, plump bottom lip. Nanami swallowed hard.

"Just a girl trying to make some money tonight," you continue, against the hood of his car. Your elbows prop you up, pushing out your breasts that were practically spilling out. "Ah, I see," he murmured. His eyes, though shadowed with exhaustion, now swam with an almost predatory hunger that swirled in the depths of his amber gaze.

You giggled at the fact that your husband was playing along with your little game, as he always did. Though tonight wasn't for you; no, it was all for him. Placing your delicate palm against Nanami's sculpted chest, he shivered for a moment. That was new.

"So, Mister, would you like to help a girl out and make use of my services?" Your voice was hot and breathy as you slowly undid the first button of his dress shirt. Nanami's eyes tracked the movement of your perfectly manicured fingers, lingering on the way they teased each button. A surprising rose-tint spread across his cheeks, his usual stoic demeanor giving way to a vulnerable flush. You could get drunk off of him.

"What kind of man would I be if I didn't help a pretty girl like you out?" Nanami chuckled, a bit sheepish, as he fumbled with the car keys, finally managing to unlock the doors. Seeing such a strong, composed man acting so coy made your thighs clench. This outfit and role were really doing it for him, huh?

After hearing the car beep, you quickly pulled both yourself and your husband inside, sliding into the backseat. It was a tight fit, with Nanami's broad frame hovering over you, his arms and legs straddling your body. The closeness made you acutely aware of just how much bigger he was than you. Instinctively, his mouth found your neck, immediately shifting into husband mode. But tonight, you wouldn't let him neglect his own needs just to please you.

"Stop," you groan, fighting the urge to let Nanami do what he normally does. He immediately pulls away, his eyes filled with worry. He searches yours for answers but only finds eyes brimming with lust. "No touching, you're paying for my services, remember?" you giggle, pressing against his chest to flip him over. Now, you were on top, straddling his lap. His heavy cock pressed against you, straining against the confines of his trousers, yearning to be free. The two of you were panting, the heat between you making the car windows fog up. You were lucky the parking garage was deserted at this hour.

"I, uh, sweetheart…" he stammered, struggling to find the words as you mirrored his earlier actions. Your mouth traced a path from his neck down to the exposed part of his collarbone, licking and sucking gently. Lips parted and teeth against skin. You couldn't help but think, God, you needed to do this more often.

His hips jerked against yours, causing the both of you to throb with want. The fabric of your shorts was already damp, barely able to contain the heat building between you. Your hands roamed down his muscular frame, your fingers tease as they reached the zipper of his trousers. You fumbled with it, the anticipation making your breath hitch. His low groan in your ear sent shivers down your spine, and you pressed closer, feeling the urgency of his need matching your own.

"Please let me touch you, just a little," he pleaded, his grip tightening on the leather seat, veins on his arms standing out. The desperation in his voice sent a thrill through you. You had made Nanami Kento, usually so proper, whine like a slut. You leaned in closer, your breath mingling with his, reveling in the power you held in that moment.

"Here, you can get a kiss, but it'll cost you extra," you laugh, pressing your open mouth to his. The kiss was sloppy, tongues intertwining with a fervor that made your head spin. His mouth was hot, and he tasted delectable—an unexpected blend of mint and cinnamon. You were melting into him. "Nghhh, sweet girl, let me touch you..." Nanami's voice was trembling, his restraint barely holding on. This was absolute torture for him; he wasn't used to being the one pampered.

"No," Your fingers hooked onto the belt loops of his khaki trousers, slowly tugging them down to reveal his throbbing cock, leaking precum. A frustrated moan caught in his throat as he waited for you to do something, anything.

His cock was pretty, more so than usual tonight. It was a darker shade of pink, thick and pulsing, with veins prominently visible at the base, likely from all the accumulated stress. Nanami hadn't cum in the past two weeks, so naturally, he was this pent up. His cock was so tempting, begging for attention.

As you wrapped your glossy lips around the tip, Nanami's hips jerked involuntarily, aching for more. The desire to thrust into the back of your throat and make a mess of your slutty makeup consumed him, but Nanami, being the gentleman he was, forced himself still. After all, he wouldn't want to harm his lovely wife, right?

But that's not what you wanted. You wanted Nanami to take out all his anger, all his stress, all his bad days on you. To defile you in a way he would a slut. That's who you were tonight, right? No longer his wife, but the whore he needed.

"Don't hold back, use me," you groaned against his cock, your mouth still wrapped sweetly around it. Drool dribbled down as you pleaded for him to let go. Getting Nanami to be rough was like asking to be struck by lightning—rare, but when it happened, it was electrifyingly intense.

"Such a dirty girl," without hesitation, Nanami began to buck his hips, driving his cock deep into your throat. Your mouth watered, saliva pooling at the base of his needy cock. He was so thick, making it a struggle not to gag. "Such a good whore for me," Tears welled up in your eyes, and your cheeks hollowed as you fought to keep up with his relentless pace.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you…" He kept repeating, babbling at this point as he used your mouth. He was drunk on pleasure, feeling the plush, wet insides of your mouth and the back of your throat. The sensation was overpowering for him, and you could see it in the way his body shuddered and groans flying from his mouth. It felt so good watching him writhe in ecstasy, completely lost in the moment. His hands gripped your hair tighter, guiding you as he continued to lose himself in you. The sight of him so vulnerable only fueled your urge to push him further into this blissful state.

You began to hum as he thrust into you, the vibrations around his length driving him insane. He let out the most beautiful grunt, a sound that sent jolts straight to your dripping cunt. You could tell he was close; his movements were becoming erratic and more forceful, causing you to gag and choke each time he hit the back of your throat. Perfect. He needed this release, and so did you. The anticipation had been building for weeks, and now you were desperate to taste him, to feel that connection you had been craving.

"Sweetheart, I can't," he breathed out, his legs stiffening and back arching slightly, plunging him deeper into your throat. His tip was bruising your throat by now, but you didn't care. You needed to see your husband come undone. Using a free hand to grip the base of his length, you began to pump up and down in rhythm with his thrusts. You were going to send him into a spiral, make him regret not being more selfish these last two weeks, make him wish he'd never taken that overtime at the stupid office.

"Gonna come," he winced, the words dragging out as his handsome face contorted in pleasure. Nanami's grip tightened on the back of your head, thrusting his length into your throat with desperation. You could definitely feel the bruises forming, but the feeling only heightened the moment. His hot, salty cum erupted into your throat, filling your mouth and leaving you with barely any time to savor its taste. The sheer force of his release made your eyes water and throat flex, but you reveled in the raw, filthiness. As he pulled back, you licked your lips, catching the last remnants of him, a satisfied smirk playing on your face.

His mouth agape, cheeks flushed, and eyes completely spent as he was panting to catch his breath. You completely wrecked him. "God, you're...incredible," he managed to say between shallow breaths, still reeling from his orgasm. The sight of him so messy only made you want to see him like this again and again. You could see the way his muscled chest heaved, each rise and fall a testament to the pleasure you had just given him. His hands, which had been gripping you with such fervor, now lay limp at his sides, fingers twitching slightly as if still remembering the feel of you.

As he slowly regained his composure, a lazy smile spread across his face. "I don't think I'll ever get enough of you," he whispered, his voice hoarse but filled with sincerity.

"Now, how much extra for another kiss?" he asked, a playful glint in his eyes.

"It's on the house,"

[cazshmere]

Asteroid Groom (51299) and Asteroid Briede (19029) in the houses and how/where you could meet your spouse <3

materialist🔖

DISCLAIMER: This is speculative and for entertainment purposes only; it may not hold true for everyone, as there is a lot of nuance to astrology, enjoy reading and do lmk if any of these resonated with y’all :)

🩵 GROOM/BRIEDE IN THE 1ST HOUSE: Love at first sight kinda vibes, at a competition, somewhere where a lot of physical activity is happening. They could end up sitting very close to you or subtly brush their hands against you, could bump into you; physical contact might occur 💖

🩵 GROOM/BRIEDE IN THE 2ND HOUSE: In a perfume shop, a luxury shopping place, restaurants, a calm and relaxed environment, at the bank, a karaoke lounge, in a coffee shop, salon, parlour etc 🛍️💅🏼

🩵 GROOM/BRIEDE IN THE 3RD HOUSE: At a library, somewhere where there is a lot of paper or documents, your neighbourhood (maybe your neighbour too, lmao), a classmate maybe, your sibling’s friend, could also be a bit younger than you, maybe at a stand up comedy show 📜📰

🩵 GROOM/BRIEDE IN THE 4TH HOUSE: Parents could play a crucial role in your meeting (especially your mom), a private place, a place where you feel very comfortable and safe, maybe someone who your mom personally knows, your high school sweetheart, puppy love/first love vibes 🏠🛋️

🩵 GROOM/BRIEDE IN THE 5TH HOUSE: When you're out on vacation with your friends having a good time, going out to watch a movie (maybe in a theater), at a carnival or an exhibition, at a play. You could meet them at a park where there are a lot of children playing around or somewhere where there are a lot of kids 🎡🎢

🩵 GROOM/BRIEDE IN THE 6TH HOUSE: The gym could be a high possibility, at the grocery store, when you're shopping for fruits, vegetables, toiletries, etc. (basically when shopping for stuff you use on a daily basis), a coworker of yours maybe, someone you run into every day, at work🏋🏽‍♀️🥙

🩵 GROOM/BRIEDE IN THE 7TH HOUSE: This is honestly such a sweet placement. You will lock eyes instantly and only see this other person even if you are in a crowded room. It might feel like a movie scene too, lol. They might initiate contact, at a social gathering, at a party. Even if it's a crowded place, it could be more of a one-on-one conversation/meeting💟💒💟

🩵 GROOM/BRIEDE IN THE 8TH HOUSE: Somewhere dark and unknown, maybe you can meet them when you are lost (they could help you find your way back to wherever it is you wanted to go), or in a dark alleyway (sounds shady asf but who knows lol). They might lend money to you if you run out (for instance, you wanted to buy a coffee but you suddenly seem to be out of money so they might offer to buy it for you), at a rave, after you've gone through a heartbreak, after you've faced some sort of loss 🖤🌑🍷

🩵 GROOM/BRIEDE IN THE 9TH HOUSE: Lmao this is a bit obvious but maybe through traveling, when you are in a foreign country, at the airport, when you're on vacation in an unknown country. High possibility of them being a foreigner, maybe in university, somewhere where there is a lot of curiosity—maybe an interesting lecture/course you decided to take up—they might also be there ✈️⛰️🗺️

🩵 GROOM/BRIEDE IN THE 10TH HOUSE: Lol they could be your boss (boss x coworker romance maybe, haha), a formal setting. You can meet them through some meeting held in your workplace, somewhere where a lot of famous people are, a famous event, business partner, could be older than you, could work in the same industry, can even meet them through Linkedin lmao 💼📅🗃️

🩵 GROOM/BRIEDE IN THE 11TH HOUSE: Two words—ONLINE DATING. Very high possibility of you meeting on a dating app or maybe just social media (Insta, Facebook, Twitter, etc.). Could also meet them when you're playing some online game, haha (Among Us, Roblox, Valorant). Your friends could introduce you to them, could be your best friend. They stand out to you in an endearing way, at a social event 👯📱👯‍♀️

🩵 GROOM/BRIEDE IN THE 12TH HOUSE: Hmm, could meet when you're at a hospital, a graveyard, an asylum maybe. They could be a patient of yours (if in case you work in that industry), you could be their therapist/psychologist/psychiatrist/counselor as they could suffer from some mental disorders (just a speculation), a peaceful meeting, maybe at a meditation class. You might see them and lose sight of them too. They can be shy/stay hidden, but eventually divine intervention will occur and you two will definitely meet. There is a possibility that you could also meet at an aquarium 🐠🏥🧿

© cazshmere 2024 [All Rights Reserved]

banner credits : @cafekitsune 🩵

[halo-chainsaw]

Shut up i'm talking patreon only 7$!!!!!

The patreon podcast is out, and I have just finished listening to it!

I decided to write down some notes for those who are interested but do not have the patreon. It's a long one, but I picked out what I thought would be important + silly moments here n there

Podcast is recorded the morning of Dream's video (I'm sorry but not to Tommyinnit)

Tommy called his mom about the situation first, discussing about how it was awful (pre reddit post)

Harry wrote the "you can call me anything but do not call me poor" LOL

Tommy didn't watch the dream stream but read a synopsis, and he said that was enough

He's spoken to Dream privately several times (starting 2023), all his friends told him that dream was taking advantage of him, but he wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt

He has told dream to change how he acts, and dream has refused. Has had conversations like this multiple times.

Told dream in a conversation he was no longer speaking to him and was no longer talking to him after he talked to his mom. Was previously ignoring him but blocked him outright.

After his dream v quackity sketch dream sent him awful and mean messages.

Jack and Tommy are pissed off about people saying to "resolve it privately". They have tried multiple times to solve things privately, but Dream will take things public.

Jack had a 2 hour long call with dream on jack's DADS BIRTHDAY??? and it was about why he didn't like dream, and about dream's allegations.

the "Jack mentions Dream" account bothers Jack since its a bunch of indirect things, and him responding to messages rather than him just bringing Dream up.

Dream says Jack spreads rumors about him.

Jack does not think dream is a p*dophile, but he finds the situation(s) he was in wildly inappropriate.

Dream showed everyone his evidence against the grooming allegations in the DreamSMP discord. Jack said he told Dream it weirded him out, because either way, he was still messaging a fan, and it pissed Dream off.

Jack flat out calls Dream "stupid".

He's very pissed about the "unfaithful" rumor, and he's very vocal about it for a minute.

Jack reiterates the editor story with the 50 quid

They point out how the Dream ignores the George and Caiti situation, along with clipping Tubbo out of context.

"I can't believe he thought he could win by just lying. Especially when you've got a reputation of lying." -Jack (paraphrased/two different sentences put together)

Tommy says the video were for him, not everyone else. Makes a jab about Dream unable to use media literacy.

Tommy says Dream knows what he's talking about when he refers to misogyny. That there's so much more behind the scenes, that it's miserable.

Tommy says he doesn't want to do any of this anymore, that it's pointless. He says Youtube doesn't make him happy, that he doesn't fit in, and he wants to be done. He will still be posting to Youtube because he loves making videos, but he doesn't want to be part of the Youtube sphere/culture. He wants to be a proper comedian.

"I might as well go down sayin' what I fuckin' mean." -Tommy

brings up the "putting others down", Tommy reiterates how he's been very kind/warm to everyone, but if someone famous is being an asshole he's gonna make a joke about it. "That's what I've done with Logan, done to you, and what I'm going to continue to do."

Tommy calls him one of the most self indulgent and exhausting people he's ever met.

Brings up Dream calling him the internet police, he says that he's just sick of the bullshit. "When I see it, say it."

Tommy reiterates he can't do this much longer, that it's all pointless. Dream is just doing what he's been doing for years. He is not proud of dream and he doesn't respect him. Tells him straight to "Fuck off".

Tommy would talk to Jack, unsure if what was happening with Dream was odd/bad or not. He's a little relieved that it's in the public eye now.

Jack talks about how everyone on the server is talking against him, that no one is defending him. They've all known he's awful.

Tommy says he felt close to Dream, so he struggled with seeing the bad actions he had done. He felt skewed/manipulated.

Tommy tells a story about back when he was 14, he would annoy people in Hypixel by lobby spamming. One day he heads into a streamer's chat that he looked up to and said hello. the streamer, who was about 20 at the time, tore into him, calling him the R slur and many other horrible things. He said he felt heartbroken and shaken up. "Shit like this just happens along the way, and it's miserable, but like- for me, I just keep remindin' myself "this isn't the first time I've done this"."

Jack tried to make his disassociation as public as possible, he had told Dream to his face (during the allegations) in the DreamSMP discord that he did not want to be associated with him anymore.

Talks about how people still group DreamSMP members with Dream, and how they think every member is bad due to Dream's actions, and he's tired of it.

He doesn't like how public everything is, but he's glad people can finally see that they don't like Dream.

Tommy, from now on, is telling everyone how he feels. He's going to be blatant. (if that's what i understood from a comment he made)

Jack is still shocked that Dream chose that moment of all things to jump in. They have made comments here and there but Dream never said anything.

Jack talks about a part in his stream where he says something along the lines of "I'd understand this type of outburst if we had been bullying im for weeks and weeks. But we haven't been. Nor would that make it okay." And then someone on twitter said "Jack just admitted that they'd been bullying Dream non stop for weeks and he's proud of it!!!!" Jack says he can't believe people's ability to misinterpret.

Tommy saw Tubbo dissecting Dream's stream for 7 hours and knew that was the point it was becoming ridiculous.

Jack blatantly calls out how Dream uses manipulation tactics in how he speaks to the public. Tommy calls it painful for him to watch because it's what Dream had done to him and others in private.

Jack goes back to Dream's stream, talking about their phone call together, about how it was disingenuous and weird to bring up publicly. He says there are things he can't talk about publicly that formed his opinion.

"I just think he's like an impossibly self-indulgent, selfish man, who thinks everyone's on his own time." -Tommy

Jack thought Dream was purposefully being negligent in the way he would speak, and while he still is, he is seeing that a lot of it also comes from Dream not being able to pick up on social cues and norms. Though, he also reiterates that it doesn't excuse his awful behavior.

"I don't get how he can't listen to anyone else." -Tommy

Both of them have talked to Dream multiple times about how he acts and he never listens. Not even just them, they say "We all have really tried", which implies more members of the SMP or other personal friends.

"He doesn't seem to feel very much empathy for the pain he's caused, and if I was in his shoes- I don't know where his guilt is." -Tommy

They talk about his inability to apologize and how they can't understand it. Tommy gets a little heated. Dream has given them empty apologies and goes to do the same things again. They talk about how he doubles down over and over until no one sides with him, that's when he apologizes.

Jack calls Dream dismissive, and how its obvious that he doesn't care.

Tommy implores the audience to not imagine these dramas as Youtubers doing it, but to imagine their friends doing these things. Youtubers are not above others, there's no difference. The only difference is responsibility.

Jack points out how it's odd that they decide to post these things. It shows that they just double down on their awful actions.

Tommy ends by saying he doesn't want to continue this, but if there are things that need to be said then they will be, but on the Patreon.

Jack says he is done as well, that he's done with all his serious points, but he will be making jokes here and there. He won't be joking about rumors, but things that actually happened.

"Anyway, back to writing!" "Guys, let's all get back to coding."

[cherry-leclerc]

lolita ☆ cs55

genre: age gap (10 years), porn with plot, affairs, forbidden romance, angst, mentions of suicide, mentions of drugs, tragedy, erotic literature

word count: 14.9k

You were young, alluring, floating through a disastrous life with the touch of a thousand angels. Carlos was successful, irresistible and someone who often kept a distance from catastrophe. Never in a million years did he think he would have a complete moment of weakness. Especially the week of his wedding. 

nsfw warning under the cut!

18+... sexual tension, penetrative sex, dry humping, riding, size kink, oral sex (f and m receiving), semi - public sex, deepthroating, praise, fingering, handjobs, lots of dirty foreplay, slapping (like once AH), a bit of edging, overstimulation, a bit of crying, sucking on fingers, squirting - i should stop now, oh god.  

inspired by lolita, lana del rey , blue velvet, lana del rey !

STOP AND READ:

This by no means - in any shape or form - is something that should be admired or looked up to. It does deal with serious topics such as: grooming, suicide, and drugs. While the reader is of age (19), this is not my way of impulsing my own readers - especially younger ones, if by any chance they come across this - to follow this mindset. Dark themes will take place and if that is not something you are comfortable with, then that is okay, I definitely have more light hearted fics in my masterlist. “Love stories” aren’t always filled with flowers and rainbows, they can also be hurtful and confusing, often misunderstood. This is fictional. Given, this is inspired by Lolita and Blue Velvet by Lana Del Rey (*everyone cheers*) – what that means is that this story will not have a happy ending. Verses of Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov are also mentioned (extremely controversial book - as it should be).

cherry here!…hi, guys! i hope you all enjoy and i’m gonna do it now: I’M SORRY. 

She was as dangerous as poison could ever be - with no good intentions. She was malicious, sweet laughter that would make anyone fall in love. An Angel walking on Earth, curiously making it her playground. 

He was intelligent. A man of few words, but also simply so, the seven deadly sins all wrapped up in one. Keeping a distance from things he knew would bring him no good.

But in order to understand, we would have to take you back to where it all began. 

Where Paradise met Hell.

-

Growing up in Italy for some odd reason made you out to be the girl you were. Men there would throw themselves at any opportunity if they saw a single daisy looking girl in eyesight. At first it felt as if you were walking a tightrope; you knew it wouldn’t be the wisest idea to fall straight into their traps. Except, slowly, it made sense.

They knew how to sweet talk someone so young and naive - you’ll give them that. It only took one taste and that was the moment you knew. 

You liked them older.

Men fucked in a way boys never would. Every single one would always put your needs first - but there was this one man that had you realizing how fucked up you could be in order to get what you want. That’s one prize you’d cheat to win.

And that’s a story for later.

-

Moving away for college was the best decision you felt you would ever make in your entire life. Given, Italy was home, but the people in it weren’t. Often, you find yourself missing your rendezvous but studying abroad in Spain wasn’t much different.

Note; you didn’t grow up with a tight knit family. Your mother was a drug addict with half of her days knocked out on the couch, your father was someone who was occasionally in the picture. He tried his best.

And your older sister, Ollie? 

Well, you’d honestly forgotten you even had one. 

Some may say that you’re a whore, a slut, a homewrecker, or any other Spanish slur that spits Madrid, but you never cared. You were having fun and why were you the one always being blamed? Perhaps, men, too, should think with their heads rather than their dicks.

Which is how you find yourself still repeating the familiar pattern you had started a long time ago. Riding your professor shouldn’t feel this good. Mierda, he would groan as you bounce up and down like a bunny. Mewling, you shake the feeling of remorse. Not when he felt this good. 

Your phone ringing is what makes you stop, him still inside of you, twitching. Ciao? His calloused fingers would slide up to pinch your nipples as you lightly gasped. 

“Tesoro! Haven’t heard your voice in so long.”

Your father’s tone makes you wince at the reminder. Occasionally, he would check up on you in a way you would assume other fathers did for their daughters. You could never hate him, though. In his own way, deep down, he still cared.

“Papi, how are you?”

Sliding off of his lap, you zip your dress back on as you pace the lecture room. Bored, he takes out his secret whiskey from under his desk. Your sister is getting married in a few weeks! I was thinking you could fly back home so you could join us. The thought alone made your stomach churn as you bit down onto your thumb. Signaling at the older man, you click your fingers, hinting for a glass of your own. He obliges, handing it to you.

“I’m busy with summer courses. Maybe I can send a gift?”

You try everything in the book in order to get out of what seems like a crappy, dull, Italian wedding. It had been ages since you last stepped foot there. In no right mind would Ollie’s wedding be the one to change that. But he says things that get to you. I haven’t seen you in years. Neither has your sister. She misses you, you know?

You bite down on a snarky remark as you down the rest of the gold liquid. Last time you spoke, she promised that you were dead to her. That she never wanted to hear from you again. In the moment, it hurt, but you grew used to the idea. And what younger sister doesn’t pick up on what older sister says? Now, you despised her as much as she did you.

“Ovviamente. I’ll be there.”

-

It’s hot as soon as you land. That you didn’t miss. Ale, your fathers chauffeur, picks you up with a bright smile. Saddened, it dawns on you that you hadn’t seen one of those in ages. He’s nice. Let's you sit in the passenger's seat as he introduces himself. He mentions he has 5 granddaughters and has been married for almost 50 years. It’s sweet. Makes you feel human.

Pulling into the driveway, you almost want to correct him. This isn’t my fathers house. You must be mistaken. Only, he says he isn’t. That he had recently moved into his Italian mansion a year ago. You’re skeptical for a minute, but realize you can’t be one to tell. Years have passed; things change.

Still, that didn’t stop you from gawking at the ginormous house that sits on a hill; overlooking all of Tuscany. It even had a beautiful view of the ocean. Why couldn’t you grow up with this?

“I’ll inform your father that you have arrived safely.”

Taking it all in, you slowly pace the entrance, analyzing everything in sight. The crystals hanging from the chandelier, large - expensive - portraits, shiny mirrors. Quirking your head to the side, you glide over to the golden trophy sitting in the middle of the spacious entry.

Carlos Sainz Sr. : Rally Driver of-

“That belonged to my father. He passed away a year ago.”

Startled, you grip onto the trophy tighter as you slightly jump in panic. You curse yourself for being caught as you delicately place it back down before turning your attention to the booming voice.

Instantly, you’re hit with lust. Standing in front of you is a tall man - around his 20’s, perhaps - dark brown eyes narrowed down on you like knives. Messy, untamed, brown hair. Large nose, plump lips, dark brows. His figure is something you can’t wrap your head around that even exists. Richard Mille's watch clung onto his wrist. Giorgio Armani pressed up against his chest, it almost looked as if it didn’t fit due to his rippling muscles. Woody, rich, scent filling up the room. 

He was the most beautiful man you had ever laid eyes on. 

“I am so, so, sorry.”

Your voice is so soft, it has him intrigued. You wore a short pastel yellow dress that didn’t leave much to his imagination; paired with converse and tube socks. Rosy tint on your cheekbones from the humidity. Berry lips. Wide, innocent eyes. He’d be lying if he said you didn’t take his own breath away. Even though you stood far enough away, he could still smell your vanilla perfume. 

Inching closer, he waves you off. “I was kidding. My father is well and alive.” You tippy toe nervously before planting your feet back down. 

“That’s not a nice thing to say.”

And he’s surprised with your response. Yet, he finds himself extending his tan hand out to you. “I’m Carlos.”

Carlos. His name sounds as attractive as his appearance. Strong and sure. But also…dark. You shake his hand, legs quivering at his warm touch. Deep down, he knew how much he affected you - it’s something he’s grown quite accustomed to, having people admire his looks, but it took a lot to not show that you had the same effect on him.

“Nice to meet you, Carlos. Do you work for my father?”

Amused, he lets out a deep chuckle. Even a simple sound like that had you pressing your legs together, arousal dripping in between. 

“You don’t know who I am?” You shake your head, confused. Should you? He smiles. “That’s okay. We haven’t met before…Though you should get to know me since you’re already here…”

Wait.

“You know,” he leans his head a bit, floppy hair following, “Ollie.”

No, no, no.

“It’s so nice to finally meet my fiancée’s sister.”

Foolishly, you try your best to hide your surprise. How does a man like him end up with a bratty, narcissist, like your sister?

What was so fucking special about her?

Envy fills your veins as you try to show that this hasn’t phased you. Excited cheers echo down the hallway as your father runs over, embracing you into a warm hug. You’re here! Wincing, you lean into his touch, eyes still trained on the magnetic man. 

Only then, did Ollie fly down the stairs, immediately running into Carlos’ arms. Making a big deal out of it, she kisses him as she runs her hands against his chest. 

“Come here, tesoro. I’ll show you where you’ll be staying.”

The entire time; Carlos kept his eyes trained on you. 

-

It didn’t make sense. Part of you knows it never will. You’ve only just met him, but you can tell he must’ve been fucked in the head to willingly choose someone like Ollie. Sure, she seemed sweet and kind, but she was anything but that. 

Dinner that night is carbonara. Carlos is extremely talented. He cooked this just for you. Tight lipped, you thank him, looking down at your plate to avoid his burning gaze. 

“How’s school?”

Turning to your father, you remind yourself that you were here for him; because he wanted you there. That’s all that should matter. “Very good. Thank you for asking, papi.”

The sound of glass hitting the table erupts as Carlos hurriedly goes to pick it up, quickly murmuring a strong apology. His dark gaze shortly flickers past you. It leaves you squirming. 

Clearing his throat, he takes a sip of his wine. “Where do you study?” Spain, you tell him as he beams. “No way. I was born and raised in Madrid. Moved to Italy a few years ago for work.” Letting out a laugh, you find the coincidence funny. He moved from Spain to Italy and you moved from Italy to Spain. 

“What do you do for work?”

“He’s a Formula 1 driver. Drives for Scuderia Ferrari,” Ollie weasels in as she smirks down on you. Anger bubbles inside of her when your attention remains on the Spaniard. Drumming your fingers against the table, you lick your lips. Formula 1? He’s about to explain it all up until Ollie butts in once again. She rubs his hand, a glistening ring shining right in front of you. You physically have to force yourself to look away. “Oh, amor, she doesn’t know what that is. She’s too…young.” 

You know she’s trying to make a weak point: you’re only a baby, therefore, you don’t compare to her. And yes, you are young, 19, but it was stupid of her to think that it bothered you. You tsk before leaning back against your chair. 

“Of course, my mistake. I forgot I was still a pure flower instead of a wilting one.”

Ollie’s face switches to bright red as she grips onto his hand. An entertained smile slips onto his lips before flattening back out. He rubs her hand, trying to calm her down. You can’t stop the jealousy burning from within.

“I didn’t mean you, Mr. Sainz.”

The 29 year old brushed you as if nothing, a smile displayed. Eyeing you both, Ollie suddenly stands up, chair screeching. Why don’t you help me bring out the cookies I baked? Ever so gracefully, you nod. Following after her, you stop suddenly as she spins, hair slapping her face. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing here? Are you here to ruin my life with your existence?”

“I might.”

Her left eye twitches as she growls angrily. If she didn’t make it this easy to tick her off, then you’d be bored, but luckily for you, it was unchallenging to get under her skin. “This is my wedding; my future husband - so don’t fuck that up like everything else you’ve ever done.”

You try to pretend as if her words didn’t affect you as you stare back blankly. Marching over to the counter, she opens up a box of cookies before sliding them onto a polished dish, leaving you standing there alone.

-

You thank the higher Gods for not letting you cross roads with Ollie for the next few days. Though, you’re a bit bummed out that you haven’t seen Carlos much either. Peeking out the window, you could see the way a group of workers hurried to set up for the joint bachelorette taking place later that night, right on the beach. The waves look magnificent, so without a second thought, you slip on a bikini before rushing out the door with your necessities. 

Lathering a goop of coconut sunscreen, you hum softly to yourself. Weren’t you going out with your sister? Looking up, you see Carlos standing in front of you with his face slightly scrunched up from the bright sun. His cheeks looked as if they’d just been pinched. “Where to?”

He takes a seat next to you. “She said she was going out to go buy a few flowers for later. Said she would invite you.” You shake your head, already bored with the idea.

“You know her,” you tap your head, “Forgetful.”

He cocks his head to the side as he shuts his right eye for a moment. “You two don’t get along, do you?” You try making up a silly excuse. Of course we do. We’re sisters. But he’s looking right into your orbs as if he sees right past your weak attempts. “You’re right. I could be wrong.”

It stays quiet for a while - only the soft breeze being heard. You can see him from your peripheral vision; eyes shut as he takes in the moment of peace he hasn’t had since dawn. Long lashes fan his face, freckles scattered all over. 

“Aren’t you too busy to be talking to me?”

“No. Plus, I should take time to get to know my future sister-in-law. Especially since I don't know anything about her even after dating her sister for 7 years.”

7 years.

Squinting at the waves, you slide your sunglasses on. “There’s not much to know, but I can try. I’m 19 years old, studying abroad in Spain, and grew up in Italy. I love the ocean, love a nice cup of hot chocolate - even though I’m allergic - so I only allow myself small sips during the winter. I like to pretend I know how to dance and I kill it in karaoke.” He laughs. You can’t dance? “Unfortunately, I can’t. Once, during my friend's wedding reception, I twirled right into her cake. I spent the entire day on supervision.”

“Dios mío…Remind me to watch out for you on our wedding day.”

Our wedding day. His words slightly sting as you pinch your nose swiftly. Standing up, you brush beads of sand off your legs. Your eyes roam the area before you find your father waving you over. “I should go,” you say as you look down at him. His brown eyes scan you before nodding and standing up. He, too, looks over to where your father waits to introduce you to a group of businessmen. He frowns and that's when you realize just how revealing your bikini might have been, only it's too late now.

“Papi always taught us to greet our elders.”

He clenches his jaw, eyes closing for a second. When his gaze meets yours, you almost choke with how dark and twisted it’s become. “Aren’t you too old to be calling him that?” Confused, you tilt your head.

“Calling him wh- Papi?”

He grinds his teeth together - and then just like that - he’s smiling again. 

“Forget it. How would I know?”

-

Standing next to an empty table, you watch as Carlos and your sister dance along with everyone else. This party has allowed you to pick up on the fact that they seemed to be a much more important couple than you had anticipated. Everyone looked at the Spaniard as if he were a God himself - and being quite truthful - you would agree. There was nothing about him that wasn’t flawless. 

Then, Ollie, just looked like any other person. Her eyes were bright, but any time anyone would walk up to him, her stare would become threatening. As if she was his owner and no one else could get close enough to breathe the same air.

Everyone here was older; that much you could tell. Attendees were accompanied by girlfriends or fiancée’s of their own. It made you feel a bit childish, since you clearly were the youngest one there. Reaching out for your margarita, you twirl the straw.

“Not having fun?”

Your attention directs itself to a dirty, blondish, brunette. He looks a bit tipsy, face flushed as he smiles sweetly. He’s tall, handsome. But not as much as Carlos.

“Max,” he introduces himself. Politely, you shake his hand. He points to the large group that dances on the sand. He lets out a croaky laugh. “They could get a bit much sometimes.” You laugh, nodding along with him. He continues talking to you. Brings up how he knows Carlos from driving with him; except he’s signed to Red Bull.

“Everyone here is invited only if they're a driver, huh?” It’s a lame joke, but he laughs and throws his head back as if it were the most fascinating thing he’s heard all night. 

“It’s a small circle, but I promise, they're all nice lads.” Discreetly, he takes in your appearance. The way your black dress dances with the wind. Painted red nails glistening under the golden lights. 

You were beautiful. Tragically, beautiful.

“You know the groom or the bride?”

“Bride.”

He nods, taking a sip of the beer bottle he had been nursing. You both continue your conversation for a while longer. He’s Dutch. Recently 26. You mention your headache before he brushes his fingers against your hand. Looking down, he pulls away before clearing his throat. He apologizes and asks if you would like to dance. A soft melody now plays and you find yourself taking his hand. It's big as yours disappears into it.

Almost as if he’s shy, he carefully slides his hands down to your waist. You giggle as you throw yours over his shoulders. “I hope slowing down helps get rid of your migraine. Sucks. I get lots of those during race weekends.” 

“It is. Thank you for caring.”

He’s sweet. You can tell with the way he blushes when you mention the way you like his dimples. Slowly, you find yourself enjoying his company. You’re in the middle of laughing at some stupid joke he just told, when someone rudely clears their throat. Carlos’ smile appears bitter as he shakes his head.

“I’m sorry - I’ve probably killed the mood.”

“No problem, mate. We were just talking.”

He clicks his tongue before turning to you. Under his scrutiny, you feel as if you’ve just been caught smoking weed for the first time. Dazed, you hum, waiting for him to say something. You know it’s not your place to feel as if he owes you an apology, but you can’t help it. 

“Ollie said it’s best if you went to bed.” You let out a sarcastic laugh. Since when does she care if I get a good night's rest? He huffs before running a hand through his hair. “She - she…Just do as you’re told, please.”

Now you’re bothered. Up until that point, you were actually having a good time. Dumbfounded, you turn to Max as he smiles understandingly. Pursing your lips, you apologize. Tippy toeing, you lean up to press a kiss against his stubble. He smiles.

“See you around?”

“See you around, Maxie.”

Walking into the lonely house, you let out a sigh as you pour yourself a cup of water. The summer heat had completely dehydrated you. You could still hear the soft beat playing from outside as you sway in the kitchen. You were upset - angry - that your sister had cut your night short. And any other time you would have put up a good fight, but thought it’d be best to not make a fool out of yourself. Especially in front of people you barely knew.

The door sliding open has you alert as you look up. Carlos silently makes his way in as he groans with exhaustion. Loopy eyes match yours as he clears his throat awkwardly. “So…What were you talking about with Max?”

“Nothing that should concern you.”

His jaw clenches, a large hand running along it. Stepping closer, he takes your cup of water before chugging it down. It leaves you hot and bothered just how close he is. It’s a mixture of salt and musk, his scent. It makes your head spin. Lazily, he takes a step back before nodding.

“Right. Have a good night.”

-

Carlos knew he had messed up. He had no right lying and saying Ollie had ordered for you to go to bed. That was completely him. It’s just that - seeing you with Max, laughing, smiling, made him seethe - when he knows damn well that he shouldn’t. It wasn’t like he was your boyfriend, after all. 

So, he was embarrassed. He kept his distance. In his head it made sense. If you weren’t near then he wouldn’t feel the need to keep his eyes on you all the time. The house felt lonelier, colder without you sliding down the hallways. Rightfully so, you had spent your days locked up in your room. The only person that made happy was Ollie.

Either way, maybe it was for the best. He had a ton of shit to do. Starting with changing their honeymoon destination for what seemed like the millionth time that month. First, it was the Maldives, then Cancún - God - he knew that in a few hours his fiancée would come up with a new place. 

“I know, I know we said that, but it’s changed.” He paces the office, stressed. “Can you please just make it fucking happen?”

“Ouch.”

Turning his attention, he sees you peeking at the entrance, phone still pressed up against his ear. Pouting, you enter, sweet aroma filling the room. Excusing himself, he ends the call. “Need anything?” He honestly cared for your response. It had been days without seeing you and he was afraid he blew it before he even had a chance to marry your sister. He told himself it was only because he cared for your relationship with Ollie. But fuck that - he knew not even you both cared that much about each other.

Shaking your head, you walk closer. “You sounded mean. Not a nice look on you, Mr. Sainz.” You’re teasing. You had to be. 

“That wasn’t mean. It's called being straight forward.”

Ignoring him, you curiously eye the dark office. Books, trophies, helmets. Letting out a snort, you pick up the nearest picture frame. In it, it’s Carlos and Ollie, smiling wide. Tears brim her eyes as he looks down at her. The sight makes you want to puke. 

“When was this taken?”

“The day of our engagement.”

You hum, already setting it back down. You can’t help but picture the impossible. That in the picture it was you instead of her, that you wore that diamond ring, that he looked at you. 

Fuck her, honestly. 

“Why’d you propose?”

He’s thrown off by your question. He’s expecting you to bring up the fact that it was a joke, but when you looked back for a response, he found himself with a dry mouth. Because I love her?

“Jesus,” you shudder, taking a seat on top of his desk. His eyes wander down your tan legs as you rest them on top of his chair. You're playing mind games - he’s well aware -  and still he found himself following them. You were the worst temptation out there. It’s as if you knew the power you held. “I bet fucking her is a chore.”

Shocked at your words, he finds himself dumbstruck. He knew you two didn’t get along, but what the fuck happened for you to aim such insults? 

He knows Ollie. Sure, she was a bit much at times, but she was nice. She was pretty. There was no need for your vile words. 

You can tell he’s about to get defensive about her and that makes you shrink. Willing, you had handed him a reason to choose her over you. 

Looking back at the picture, you purse your lips. “Sorry. That wasn't the right thing to say.”

“You should leave.”

You’re embarrassed over him kicking you out, but you knew you had crossed the line. So much for a peaceful afternoon. You comply, jumping off the desk. Not before making your way over, pressing your soft lips against his neck, which was the only place you could reach, even after tippy toeing. You felt him get stiff. 

“Excuse my manners, Carlos.”

Skipping out the door, he’s left with a single thought. 

He’s fucked. 

-

The next morning, you’re forced to spend the day with your sister. Whether it was for running errands, fighting; it didn’t matter. As long as you made your father happy. All he wanted was for his girls to get along. 

“Go,” Ollie growls as she hands you your bridesmaid dress. Snatching it from her, you slowly climb up the stairs to your room. 

It’s a beautiful dress. Strong, dark, cherry red. Just like blood. It hugs your curves the way you’ve always thought all dresses should. For that reason, too, it made you look…older. Trying your best to get rid of the wrinkles, you smooth it down before making your way back. 

Papi loves it as he starts throwing out compliments. You look beautiful, tesoro! You are a true gem. His eyes are bright and proud as you stand there with a shy smile. And though you thanked him, nothing else mattered but the man right in front of you. 

The Spaniard had just gotten back from a meeting. He was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to eat and sleep the rest of the day, but as soon as he saw a balsé Ollie and an eager father-in-law, he was interested. She had told him to go relax; practically pushing him away. But as soon as you walked down those stairs, he swore his heart had never melted with such a sight. 

His eyes became fixated to the point of no return. You stand there like a divine temptress. A siren who was mixed with innocence. Enough to drool over, but also, to adore from afar. Someone he could worship. If God decided this were his last day on Earth, then he would happily follow, since he finally felt as if his life were complete. 

His big brown eyes are glued onto you as your father spins you. Ollie’s attention flickers between her younger sister and her fiancé. Tears fill up her eyes as she springs off the couch. You’re not bothered by it; don’t even bat an eye. That is until Carlos quickly runs off after her. That was a slap to the face as you show off a wounded smile to your father who stands there lost at the sudden commotion. 

Later on that day, you find yourself trying to forget it all with watered down tequila. That’s really all you could find in such short notice. Leaning against the balcony, you study the soft waves, cold wind causing your skin to flash small goosebumps. 

“Disgusting,” you mumble as you finish the rest of the alcoholic drink. Who knew a simple encounter would set you off?

“Woah there. Are you okay?”

Max cautiously steps closer as you shrug with a sigh. What was there to say? I’m a horrible person. I’m a horrible sister. And yes, we might not get along, but never in a million years did I think I would be falling in love with my future brother-in-law. 

“What are you doing up so late?”

Sheepishly, he raises his cigarette. Letting out a low hum, you raise a brow. “Can I have one?” He knows he shouldn't be the one to give a teenager a form of drug, but you looked so upset, so drained, that he felt as if you needed it. Lighting it up, you bring it up to your lips as you squint at him. He laughs. 

“First time?”

“No. It’s just been a while.”

You’re still not looking at him, but he notices the way you let out shaky breaths. The way you softly pinch your forearm. He frowns. 

“I know we only just met, but do you want to talk about it?”

And maybe it was the gist of the moment. Or that he was being sweet - showing that he cared, but it worked because next thing you knew, you were kissing. He lets out an erotic moan with the taste of your lips. All a mix of cigarettes and tequila. This is wrong. He was friends with Carlos and you were only doing this in a moment of weakness, but you just couldn’t stop. Neither could he. Not when you tasted like a thousand crimes. 

His large hands grab your ass as you gasp, brushing against his cock. He hissed as he pressed his lips much harder. Surely, you will have bruises tomorrow. Adrenaline rushes through your veins as you grind against him. Clumsily, you both make your way to the couch that’s nearby. Straddling him, you continue to dry humping. Slowly, but surely, the warm sensation between your legs starts to form. Panting, you pull away as he tries to angle his face closer to yours. You smile tauntingly. 

“You know what you remind me of?”

You hum, leisurely picking up your filthy actions. He bites back a smile as he grips harder onto your hips. 

“A Lolita.”

A menacing smile looks down at him before you kiss down his thick neck, soft bites being left behind. You can’t recall the moment you start bouncing on his cock, or when he sprawls you open like a map, kneeling down in front of you. It’s all a haze; a delicious one, too. You’re falling like a feather from your climax when you hear a thud. Did you hear that? No, he would mumble as he peppers kisses onto your soft skin. 

The tides are crashing harder now, signaling that the night was growing older. Timidly, you share a goodbye as you start to skip your way back into your room, but one last thing caught your attention.

A broken flower pot on its side and dirt trailing into the Italian home. 

-

More days had passed since your last encounter with the devilish Spaniard. If you were ever in the same room, he wouldn’t even glance at you. He would simply just walk past by. He was mad. Upset about something. You tried to think of what it might’ve been, but when he walked into his office with an infuriated expression, you decided it was time to call a truce. 

Knocking, you flinch at his sharp tone when he commands you away. Ignoring it, you still step in. Head thrown against his chair, man spreading, he has his eyes screwed shut.

“Are you okay?”

Your tone is sticky like honey. It annoys him the way it strings him in. Drumming his finger against the large chair, he angles his head to look at you. You’re almost scared to ask again, so you decide to stand still until he speaks up. 

“Why’d you do it?”

Puzzled, you purse your lips, waiting for further explanation. What was he talking about? Did you do something to make him upset? The thought alone made you feel queasy. When he notices you still don’t understand, he clicks his tongue. 

“Why would you fuck a friend of mine?”

Oh. Was it possible that this was something he was jealous of? Bewildered, you know you can’t deny it so you start to word-vomit. I am so sorry, Carlos. He came onto me that night - he kissed me first. I was confused. I was lured in by his words. I didn’t know what I was doing-

His eyes soften up as you try your best to break it down. But you were a liar; a good one. You knew damn well it was all you. You had kissed him first. You threw him under the bus and you knew that. Did he deserve it? No. Of course not. But you couldn't handle the Spaniard being mad at you.

He signals for you to get closer. Securely, he grasps your hand and hauls you onto his lap. It’s embarrassing how wet you’ve suddenly become; how your mind replicates a plate of jello. 

“I’m sorry he made you feel like that.”

His rough fingers slide up and down your arms and even that leaves you buzzing. Suddenly, you feel feeble. You assure him that you were fine - that it was no big deal. The way he looks at you is what gives you the confidence to lean in closer. A trace of panic slashes his face for a second. He should probably stop this before anything else happens. There was nothing okay about your ass pressed up against him. Or him craving to taste your plump lips. 

“He didn’t make me feel anything I haven't before.”

Your implication irks him far too much, he starts to consider this all an unhealthy encounter. He can’t stop the images of you being with other men. Someone else kissing you, pleasuring you. Whilst your words were suggestive, your features were anything but that. Wide eyes stare back at him, slightly crinkled. Moving your body, you scoot closer as if you weren't already. He growls as he pinches your hip. Then, you're kissing his neck, and he should be pushing you off, but he’s too far gone to pick up on how wrong this all was. I’m sorry I’ve upset you, Mr. Sainz. I didn’t think you would care who fucked me or not.

“I-I don’t. It’s just that you shouldn't be doing stuff like that. You’re too young for all that.”

“That’s where you’re wrong.” You narrow your eyes. “I’m wiser than one might think. I’m mature enough to know who can and can’t fuck me the way I like.” Your gaze focuses extra hard with your confession. As if it were meant for him.

Pressing your ass one last time against his tight pants, you leap off, giggling. 

“Take care, Carlos.”

-

It's a business dinner, your father fills you in as you sit nearby, enjoying a bowl of ice cream, hairollers dangling around your head. Pouting, you reach up to clip one back into place. He smiles.

“You know, lots of young, talented guys are going to be here. It could be a great opportunity to meet someone.”

You make a face at his idea. “Yeah. No, thank you.” Marching over to him, you gently pat his cheek. “I’m not here to meet anyone.”

Signhing, he grabs your hands. “Can I ask you something?” 

“Sure.”

“Are you and Carlos…” Choking on your own saliva, you push away. What? No. Of course not! Why would you even think that? He lets out a breath of relief. “It’s nothing. Ollie just brought it up, but I told her you would never actually do something like that. I know my precious girl.”

The door creaks open as Satan herself walks in, followed by an Angel. First thing you noticed are their intertwined hands. Ollie tries to be coy as she flashes the action right in front of you. She mainly greets your father as she sticks by Carlos like a piece of gum. Hello, he would say to you as you bite back a smile.

“What are we talking about?”

“Your sister might have a boyfriend by the end of the night, that's what,” your father jokes as you slap his shoulder. Boyfriend? The Spaniard’s eyes burn you, subtle threat evident. Ollie fakes a smile as she tugs him back a bit.

“Wow. You know what? That might actually be a good idea. Could help with how uptight you are. But I’m confused, boyfriend as in Max?”

Fury fills you as you shoot daggers right at her. Ollie’s eyes twinkle with satisfaction. You’re dating Max? “Of course not, papi! Ollie is just being a bitch.”

“No, no, no - I don’t think telling the truth is being a bitch. You should be happy, baby sister! You sure sounded like it when you let him fuck you out in the balcony.”

Shocked at her words, you can’t bring yourself to look at your father who stands disappointed. Ollie, that's enough, Carlos warns as he squeezes her hand. She yanks it away, jewelry clinging against each other. 

“My bad. Shit, I forgot. I forgot no one knew what a slut you are. Opening your legs for any man around you. We’re lucky you’re not attracted to your own father.” She lets out a sour laugh. “Now, that would be fucked up.”

“That’s low, Ollie,” you spit, skin feeling as if it's on fire. You know where all this pent up anger is coming from, but she had no right to make up shit for fun. What kind of sister does that? Embarrassed, your eyes flicker to where Carlos stands with a hopeless expression. Licking your lips, you force yourself to walk away.

Slamming the door shut, you let out a loud scream. Why? Why was she always like this to you? A hard knock is what makes you wipe your tears away. Ollie slithers her way in. It hurt you how proud she looked. As if she had achieved something spectacular. 

“The fuck - Are you crying?”

“What do you want?”

She takes a seat on your desk as she dusts off imaginary lint. “I just want to talk. The way sisters do.”

Ricocheting off the bed, you march over to her as you glare. “Sisters? No. You’re nothing of mine.” Ollie yawns as she rubs her eyes. Then, she clears her throat.

“Do you want to know why I hate you? You’re so stupid you probably don’t even know, but don’t worry - that’s what older sisters are for. I’ll explain it to you. Do you remember, Romeo?”

You do. It hits you all at once; the memories of the first man you ever slept with. He was nice - kind enough to teach you what a man likes. He had jet black hair, a smirk always lingering on his lips. He was tall and a local from where you grew up. He was the perfect experience. 

But that still didn’t make any sense. What did he have to do with Ollie?

She lets out a wet laugh. Already, you can see her own tears as she tries to quickly wipe them away. 

“I loved you; I did. You were my sister before my enemy. But I also loved him. He was my first love. Promised me a home high up in the hills. But do you know what it feels like to see someone you love fuck your little sister against a wall?”

We probably shouldn’t-

Don’t worry. I’ve got you. No ones going to see us. Men love a good thrill.

“You and him…”

She licks her chapped lips. “We had barely started dating.” 

“I didn’t know - I swear to God, I didn’t know!”

If you had, you never would’ve looked his way. Ollie was everything to you growing up. You admired her. Loved her. That’s why it broke you when she started pushing you away as if you were some disease. Later, when your parents got a divorce, she didn’t second guess it when she made the decision to stay behind; causing you to leave with your mother. She never cared for you after that and you never knew why.

But now you did.

“I was young…Younger than I am now, how was I supposed to know?”

“Well, I’m glad we agree on something. You truly don’t know anything.” Strolling over to you, she smiles at your desperate state. “Which is why I’m not making the same mistake twice. Stay away from my husband.”

-

Ollie’s words felt as if they had opened up past scars. You meant what you said. Romeo would have been someone you would have disregarded if you had known the truth. But like always, you were the one with the entire blame and that you didn’t like.

Despite wearing a pretty dress - one that everyone gawked at you for - you felt ugly. Has it always been this way? Maybe it did make sense as to why she despised you. Playing with your bracelets, you try to pretend you’re interested in meeting your fathers investors. You feel completely exposed when they all stare straight at your chest area.

“How are we all doing?”

They all look up at the Spanirad as they start spitting out their congratulations for his upcoming wedding. He thanks them before checking up on you. His eyes connect with yours. Butterflies swirl inside your stomach as you smile weakly. He’s the first one to truly talk to you that night. To show he cares about your wellbeing rather than the way your dress fits you. Though, you looked stunning as always. Excusing yourself, you make your way into the kitchen, looking for something stronger.

Serving yourself a shot of vodka, you throw your head back, burning sensation sliding down your throat. Coughing, you grip onto the counter. Soft moans whisper in between the walls. You stop breathing for a minute as you try your best to identify where it might be coming from. Striding closer, you press your ear against the closet door. Fuck, a mans voice groans. This is not something you should intervene with, it's not your right, but that all changes when you hear a name that makes you burn all over again. So fucking tight, Ollie.

Pushing the door open, you see your sister banging one of your fathers investors. Ben, you think his name is. Honestly, you could care less. Briskly, she pushes her gown back down as he zips his pants. You let out a cold laugh as you clap in amusement.

“Oh, God. This is great. Amazing. You really outdid yourself, Ol.”

Stepping forwards, she grabs your arm harshly as she tugs you out. “How much did you see?”

You purse your lips as you theatrically scrunch your face up in pleasure. “Oh, Ben! Fuck me! Oh, oh, yes, baby, right there!” You bow. “That much.”

“How old are you, sweetheart?” The brunette says as he scans your body. Ollie glares at him as he steps back.

“Not a word of this to Carlos.”

“Why would I keep this a secret? He deserves to know. What do you think, Benny?”

Panicked, the older man shakes his head as his eyes plead for mercy. That’s enough. Raising your hands up in defense, you grin back at Ollie. “You’re not mentioning anything if you know what's good for you.”

“Oh, yeah?” You tilt your head back. “And what’s good for me?”

“If you tell him anything of what you just heard - saw - then I’ll just tell him how you’ve been bending over for every man in this house. Charles, Lando, Lewis, Pierre…you name it.”

“He won’t believe you…”

She laughs sinisterly. “No, I think he will. I mean…You’ve already done it before.”

“Hey,” his soft voice enters the room as you turn to look at him. The Spaniard’s eyes dance between you and your sister and Ben. “Is something wrong?”

Ollie shakes her head with a bright smile as she walks up and kisses him. You flinch. “Nothing, amor. We were just talking.” She runs her hands through his hair as his eyes remain on you. 

“Are you okay?” 

Nodding, you grind your teeth together. “Yes. Ollie was just introducing me to Ben.” Awkwardly, the man waves from behind you. Slowly, Carlos nods.

“Papi asked me to introduce them. You know - with the whole ‘boyfriend’ thing!”

“He was serious about tha- Oh. Okay.” He reaches down to take your sister's hand as he eyes you and Ben. “We should probably leave you two alone then.”

Hastily, you nod. “Sure.”

-

If you were willing to try and fix your relationship with Ollie before, then that was long gone. This is what you knew her for. A pretender. She wistfully makes everyone believe she’s some sort of saint, when really, she’s a wolf in sheep's clothing. She’s a hypocrite. She has a man that everyone desires and she does this? 

You hated her.

You hated seeing the way she beams when Carlos’ mother gives her a necklace that belonged to her own mother. She didn’t deserve it. Or the way his sisters helped her slip in and out of her dress, making sure it's perfect for the big day.

Still, you try your best to be a supportive sister. Especially around the woman who raised a man like Carlos. Biting down on your lip, you take a sip of your champagne as Ollie disappears behind the curtains with the lady who is taking some last minute measurements. Reyes smiles warmly.

“We didn’t know Ollie had a younger sister.”

You smile. “Best well kept secret, right?” The older lady laughs. Your heart warms up as you notice it's the same way Carlos does. Ana and Blanca grin.

“Well, we’re glad to finally get to know you. Might I add, you’re beautiful. Those eyes!”

“Thank you,” you blush.

Ana takes a sip of her drink before clicking her fingers. “That’s what you remind me of! You - Carlos - almost have the same puppy eyes!” She turns to her mother. “Mamá! What’s that saying? Soulmates look alike…Something like that, no?”

“Be quiet, Ani,” Blanca hisses before smiling apologetically. “Excuse her - she can be a bit invasive.”

“No problem,” you reassure as you bite back a smile. Ana frowns.

“Lo siento, I don’t mean to come off as overbearing. It’s just that you do…”

Reyes clears her throat as she winks over at her daughter. “Don’t misunderstand us, please. We love Ollie, we do! It’s just…you’re different.” She examines you. “I like you.”

Their words stick with you like a post it. Do soulmates look alike? Playing with the sand, you circle your finger agonizingly slow. Why did their words matter so much to you?

“I always find you alone.”

You stick your tongue out at Carlos as he chuckles at your childish behavior. You pat the sand, inviting him to join you. What are you doing out here? You point at the ocean. “I told you it was my favorite place.” 

“Ah. I see.” 

You sneak in a quick look before looking straight ahead. “Nervous?”

“About?”

“Marrying a monster.”

He gives you a deadpan look, bumping his shoulder to yours. “She’s not that bad, you know.” He glances at you. “Ollie has been there for me through so much. Through my failures. Through my accomplishments. She’s the one who convinced me not to quit racing.”

“You were thinking of quitting?”

He nods. “It’s not as easy as it looks. It fucks you up mentally. But she…” He smiles. “She helped me overcome that. I thank her everyday for it.”

It’s a bittersweet feeling hearing him talk about her like that. On one hand, you’re thankful that she had made him realize that he should carry on doing what he loved. On the other, you knew her true reasons. She loved having a famous fiancé; someone she can brag out to the rest of the world.

Somewhere, far away, you hear a melody. It’s low enough that if you didn’t pay close attention, you wouldn’t catch on to it, but you did. You grab his hand, leading him to stand up. He quirks a full brow. 

“Want to dance?”

“I thought you said you didn’t know how to.”

“Nice memory, old man.” You gently kick some sand towards him. “But I feel like dancing. Plus, you should be practicing.”

Tugging you closer, he hums. “Alright. Only because that's true.”

His hands feel warm against you - so much so - it feels as if he’s on fire. An ease comes to it, too, as you both sway under the moonlight. You giggle when he spins you, dress flying around you like petals. The way you grin makes his heart speed up in a way he’s never felt before. It’s alarming. He pinches your hip as you yelp.

“Mentirosa.”

“Wha- No, I’m not! Can’t dance to save my life.” Clumsily, you dig your toes into the sand. He winces playfully. 

The air grows heavy the moment he brushes your hair behind your ear. Your eyes flutter shut as you lean against his warm hand. One look, and he’s hooked. It’s meant to be something lighthearted, but the way he wishes to feel your soft lips against his indicates that it’s not. He’s tried his best to see you for what you are; his fiancée’s little sister. Someone he shouldn’t find himself caring if they slept well, ate their three meals a day, or that they didn’t talk to any other man that wasn’t him or your father. This was sick and twisted and yet…

His lips meet yours as your eyes spring open for a nanosecond before letting yourself go under. It feels as if you’re exploding like firecrackers on a Fourth of July. Something about the way he cradles your face endearingly has your head spinning. Knees become weak, but his grip is secure. It’s better than you could have ever imagined. His tongue fights for dominance and when you don’t give it to him, he squeezes your ass. Moaning, you open your mouth and that's all it took. He kisses you the way you’ve seen in movies - only better. He’s hungry - desperate - for you as you smile against him. Biting down on his bottom lip, he groans as he kisses you harder than before. You were beginning to think your lips were about to snap. 

Letting go, he stands there, staggered. He’s ashamed when he realizes that he regrets nothing. You both stay quiet; only waves crashing and heavy pants being heard. At first you think he’s going to apologize, and maybe that might have been the case, but no words would come out. Pressing a peck against his swollen lips, you smile.

“Goodnight, Carlos.”

-

Carlos rues the day that he kissed you because that only made things more complicated. He couldn’t find a way to not look for you when he walks into the garden, full of family and friends. Or the way he would want to punch Max when he made you laugh. But there is also something sweet. Like the way you would gossip with his sisters and share stories with his parents. He had never seen them laugh and smile so much, not even with Ollie. 

He flinches at the cold hand that wraps around his own. Faking a smile, he presses a soft kiss on top of his fiancée’s head. Continuing the clicking against her glass, she smiles widely. 

“Grazie a tutti per esservi uniti a noi!”

Everyone claps and a few of the drivers whistle. Rolling your eyes, you lean your head against your father’s shoulder. His heart skips a beat. Ollie continued her speech filled with thank you’s, thank you’s and more thank you’s. Your father kissed your cheek before making his way up to his eldest. Taking the microphone from Ollie, he starts to share warm felt memories about her. You have to admit, you’re jealous about their bond. Somewhere in the past, that had been viciously stolen from you. He notices the way you shrink with sadness and he finds himself about to walk over to you when Ollie laughs awkwardly. Amor. It’s your turn.

“Right.” Fixing his rolled up sleeves, he smiles at the crowd of guests. “Uh…Well like my fiancée said, we’re extremely happy to have you all here. It takes a lot to get this many people out here all at once.” A few laughs echo as he continues. “This means a lot to me, too, to have my friends and family. To have met new faces.” His gaze flickers past you as your breath hitches. “Many ask me what about Ollie made me fall in love with her…And I’m here to be as brutally honest as I could get. I love the way she makes me feel as crazy as the ocean. I could spend calm days with her and not worry about getting bored. Or I could find myself getting into trouble. Ollie has made me a better man. Because of her I know what true love is…” His loopy eyes meet yours. “True love are the waves that meet the shore.” 

He lets out a sheepish smile. I want love like that, Lando yells out as he downs his glass of milk. Everyone claps and cheers and that’s where your nightmare begins. 

Let’s give it up for the happy couple! Kiss, kiss, kiss!

The chants continue as Carlos let out a nervous laugh. That’s something private between me and her, he tries but finds himself being booed. Leaning down, he pulls Ollie in for a peck before pulling away with a tight lipped smile. He hates himself for his sudden realization.

Kissing her suddenly did feel like a chore.

With all the whoops and whistles being thrown out by friends, he finds himself trying to find you. It doesn’t take long as he notices you had picked up on your conversation with the Dutchman. His jaw clenches. 

“Maybe Ollie’s younger sister would like to share a few words.”

Why would he say that? Frozen, you choke mid sip. Me? Your father beams as he nods excitedly. Oh! That’s such a great idea! Unfamiliar faces turn to look at you as they wait. Taking in a deep breath, you nod as you make your way over.

As he hands you the microphone, he can’t stop himself from grazing his fingers against your hand. Coughing, you yank it fast. 

“Ciao a tutti.” Everyone greets you back as you lick your lips. You take a moment to figure out what to say, but there’s not much. Cringing, you try to come up with anything. “As some may know, I’m Ollie’s sister…And I could go on forever about how great she is-” You suppress a sarcastic laugh as Carlos knowingly winks. Your nerves ease up. “But I think I should talk about the man who makes my sister the happiest. Carlos Sainz…When I first met you, you seemed uptight - more than the Grinch - but slowly I got to know the man that even my papi swoons over.” 

True, your father laughs. “You’re kind, respectful, and charming…Ollie is one very lucky girl. But there’s something also sensitive inside of you…Despite the permanent frown on your face, you still seem to like days by the ocean. Maybe it's a reminder that peace still exists or maybe it's the way…” Looking up, you see everyone staring deeply. Suddenly, you feel like this might be oversharing as you twirl your dress. “...Or maybe it's the way your face lights up when you take my sister dancing on the sand. Uh…Thank you for making her happy.” Handing the mic back to Carlos, you smile weakly at the strong claps. 

“That was quite sentimental,” Max points out as you bite down on your finger. Was it too much? He shakes his head. “Don’t worry. It looks like you and Carlos get along well enough. I, for sure, thought he hated you with the way he looks at you.”

“Oh. Yeah.” You pause. “I thought so, too.”

-

Aside from the fact that the wedding was approaching quickly, the mansion was quiet. The silence can almost be heard; it's scary. Carefully, you fix your dress as you skip down the stairs barefoot, lollipop painting your lips red. 

Peeking around the corner, giddiness fills your body as you snatch a handful of pre-washed cherries. Earlier that day, your father had scolded you for finishing the new batch. Popping them into your mouth, you hum a song as you kick your legs against the kitchen counter. It creeps you out the moment a chill runs down your spine. As if someone were watching.

“Boo!”

“Santa mierda,” you yelp as you clutch your heart. Laughing loudly, the Spaniard bends over as he gasps for air. You pout and kick his knee. “Cabrón, you scared me! Warn a girl!”

“Fuck - I’m sorry.” His lips form a thin line as he stands firm. Slowly, the corners lift up, wobbly at his poor attempt to not burst out laughing. You frown.

“You’re fucked up.”

Again, his laughs echo the dimly lit kitchen. “Can I have some?”

“No. They’re mine. Grab your own.”

He narrows his eyes. “Aren’t you on cherry prohibition or something like that?” You gasp as you look around before flipping him off.

“Keep your voice low or papi will disown me!”

He zips his lips as he whispers. “I won’t tell a soul. But I want one of those in exchange.”

Tapping your finger against your lip, you pretend to think about it before nodding. You extend your hand out, a single red cherry for him. You’re waiting for him to take it and leave to where he came from, but what he does instead has you swallowing a lump down your throat.

Crouching down, he opens his mouth as he picks up the cherry, lips slightly wrapping around your fingers. This was triggering you as you tried your best to keep sane. But there was no way of going about that when he looked up at you with deep, brown eyes. Licking the red juice sliding down your hands, he steps back. He licks his lips before swallowing. It amazes you the way his Adam’s Apple jumps up and down; thick neck begging to be sucked on.

“Fucking delicious.”

Blinking, you look down at the rest of the cherries in hand. All of a sudden they seemed like a sultry fruit rather than a drupe. 

“Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Of cours-s-e.”

Stupefied, you throw the leftovers straight into the trash bin. You had no clue what made you do that. A small chuckle escapes past his lips as you shut your eyes in embarrassment. Maybe they weren’t as sweet as you made them seem. Too mortified to speak, you keep your eyes focused on the way your feet hit the wood as a distraction. It takes all of you to not run away as he steps closer once again.

“Is there something in that dirty little mind of yours?”

The room feels hot all of a sudden as you shake your head. There’s no words in your vocabulary when he stands this close. You can smell his cologne mixed with shampoo. If richness were a scent then this would definitely be it. His hands cage you in like a butterfly behind glass. Clicking his tongue, he steps aside as you let out a shaky breath. Taking the opportunity, you jump off the edge, bare feet slapping against the cold tiles. Cuidado, he mutters when you almost slip from the sudden action. 

“If you need anything I’ll be upstairs.”

Not sure why you said that, but it seemed like a rationalized excuse. Por supuesto. And that would have been the end of your night. That would have been another successful day of not falling for the forbidden apple. You had held out for so long; the kiss didn’t count. But it only takes a few steps for him to clear his throat. Almost as if this were your secret language, you spin and you find him staring after you; dazzling eyes following your every movement as if he’s trying his best to decipher anything you do.

Smiling wide enough for your eyes to look as if they had a smile of their own, you think - fuck the consequences - as you clumsily run up to him; jumping like a kid onto a tree. Legs wrap around his torso and his hands hold you close to him.

“Do you-”

“Yes,” he whispers. “Since the first day you walked through those doors: yes.”

If you had thought you were obsessed with his kisses before, you were wrong. So very wrong. Because now you were addicted. He kisses you with urgency as you run your hands through his locks, so soft against your fingers. He grunts when you tug on it. 

His kisses were stimulating enough for you to plead for something. Anything. Smirking, he pecks your nose before leading you both upstairs. It amazed you how he could continue kissing you as he hurried to get to the bedroom. Noticing him making his way into his and Ollie’s, you pull away. There’s no way you would let him do that. You spin your finger lazily through his hair.

“How about mine?”

He doesn't care if he fucked you against the floor, he needed you. Kicking the door shut, he throws you onto your bed as you squeal. He smiles fondly as you brush your hair out of your face. He’s had his fair share of girls. Models, nepo-babies, Ollie, but none of them compare to you. 

He was almost scared of touching you again, even though that’s exactly what he wanted. Doe eyes stare back at him as his cock gets harder at the sight. Ollie had always tried her best to look at him that way, but you didn’t even have to try. It naturally happened. Nothing about this felt forced.

You look untouchable. Like a complete goddess waiting to be ruined. Carlos, you would say as you squeeze your tits, eyes struggling to stay open. Carlos, please. Don’t be mean. Towering over you, he shakes his head.

“Linda, I could never be mean to you.”

Slipping your dress off, he groans when he sees you weren’t wearing anything underneath. He shuts his eyes as he tries to not finish inside his pants, which by the way, were starting to hurt. He pinches your nipple before slapping your tits. You hiss. 

“Please tell me you did this for me and no one else…”

“You know it’s always been for you.”

With that, he stands up as he yanks his shirt off; jeans and boxers following right after. A bit worried, you find yourself staring at his rock hard dick. You had never been with some as big as him; it kind of looked as if it would split you right open. That didn’t stop you from wanting it, though.

“Don’t worry. I’ll prepare you nice and good, cariño.”

His lustful tone snaps you out of it as you nod. His fingers rub your wet folds as you cling onto his bicep. C-Carlos. “I know, baby, I know,” he coos as he focuses on the way your face pinches. He slowly starts slipping his finger in as you gasp at the thickness. So big and long. He chuckles. “Oh, come on now. It’s not even fully inside of you yet.”

Stunned, you look down and sure enough, it isn’t. You almost cry out when you notice it’s barely even the tip. “I don’t think it’s going to fit.” He kisses your temple as he slips his finger back out. 

“Let’s start off with something else then.”

You almost pass out when he angles himself in front of your pussy. Glistening clit stares back at him as he moans. So pretty, he thinks as he touches you slowly. He stops himself, though, as he goes in for kitten licks instead. You squirm. His large hands pushed you down against the bed, to keep you in place. 

“Do you want me to make the ache in between your legs go away?”

“Yes.”

His pink tongue teases you as he hums. You bite down sharply. “You’re going to have to stay still. Relax, bonita.” Following instructions, you close your eyes, trying your best to not think of the handsome Spaniard. As if that were possible. Impressed, he leans in again as he licks you, picking up your pre-cum. Oh, fuck. 

Then it’s almost as if Carlos is taken over by something as he dives in like some animal. His stubble burns your legs, but you’re too fucked out to even care. You’re sure you're being loud, but how can you not be when he licks and sticks his tongue inside of you, exploring places you never knew existed. You choke back a moan when he rubs his nose against your clit, only adding to the euphoria. 

“Yes. Oh. Fuck, yes.” Looking down at the brunette, you find him taking in your appearance as he rubs himself against the sheets; a way to try and pleasure himself. And that’s enough for you to cum all over his face. He smiles as he greedily tries to drink up everything you give him. He knows he lost control, but he loves the way you were able to keep up. To take everything he gave you.

And that was only going to multiply.

“You taste so fucking sweet,” he groans in between your legs, picking up the white nectar. Crying out, you push his face away as you gasp for air. He sucks your tits as you take a break. His tongue swirls around your bud as you wiggle against him like a fish that jumped out onto land. He laughs. “Can you handle my fingers, now?”

No, you whisper as you push him away. But he knows you’re giving up too soon. He knows there’s an animal inside of you and he’s just waiting for it to decide to join him. He ignores you as he slides his fingers down to your center. You mewl against him. “Hey, hey, I got you, cariño. I’m right here.” 

His voice makes you clench harder against his fingers as he grins like a kid at a candy store. Slowly, you start dripping more than before, making it easier for his fingers to slide in and out of your hole. Can you handle a third? “Yes,” you respond, eyes still screwed shut. Hot air hits your ear.

“There she is…Good girl. Justo asi.”

Picking up speed, his fingers reach the gummy part inside of you as you scratch his arms in an attempt to remind yourself to not black out. His long fingers cross, doing figure 8’s as he touches your g-spot as if he knows your entire body better than any map. Leaning up, he bites down onto your nipple before sucking hard. You should be embarrassed with the way you squeal and shake against his actions, but he just made it so hard not to. Much to your surprise, if you dare believe it, he does the thing you last expected.

He adds a fourth digit.

“No, no, no,” you pathetically chant as your eyes fly open. He cocks his head to he side as he clicks in tongue as if seeing you struggle filled him with pride. 

“Ah, ah, ah. Just trust me; do you trust me?”

He didn’t need to ask because he knew you did. I do, you whimper out as you start grinding against his fingers. Amazement fills his dark eyes as he looks down to where you clench around him, juices sliding down his arm. It only takes a couple of more swirls before your shriek, velvety walls clenching around him as you reach your climax. 

Bringing his fingers up to his mouth, he licks your cum as if it were a meal he’s dreamed of having his entire life. Your mouth hangs open as you watch him lick them clean. You’re sure he’s going to fuck you now, but that flies out the window as he lays down as he drags you onto his face.

This man had stamina. Lots of it. You're trying to beg for a break of some sort. I can suck your dick. Give you a handjob. Just please let me rest. But he wasn’t even listening. 

Maybe somewhere deep down, he knew this would be the only night he would have you to himself and if that meant no pauses, then he would push all your buttons.

Like a starved man, he starts licking you all over as you grind against his face. The way he sucks on your clit and adds his fingers make you squeal as you push down harder. His nose rubs against you in such a way, it has you seeing stars. He seems to be enjoying that though, as his moans vibrate against you. Biting hard onto your lip, you try to distract yourself as you reach behind you for his rock hard cock. The moment your small hand wraps around him, he growls like a lion.

Smug over his reaction, your hand slowly starts jerking him off as he eats you out with more urgency. It takes all of you to control your actions as he shakes his face in between your legs. S-slow down, Carlos. He grunts as his actions speed up, but so does your hand. Gripping onto his erection much harder, you furrow your brows as you twist your wrist. Choking on your juices, he opens his eyes wide, whimpers flying past his lips.

Smiling down like the devil, you nod as your hand picks up its pace. Now it's his turn to be groaning with pleasure. He seems to have forgotten what he was doing as he takes in strong whiffs of your aroma. You shudder when his warm breaths escape to warm up your dripping pussy.

His cock twitches and he seems to snap right back into it; already diving back into your hole. Lurching forward, you grip onto his hair as the other remains wrapped around him. It’s a game to see who can make the other cum first, and you were not about to be the loser. 

Lively, you circle your thumb around his pink tip as he groans and finishes all around your hand. Sucking hard, he bites gently onto your clit as you screech and trap his head between your thighs. Shaking, you twitch against him as you reach your third orgasm that night. Huffing, you roll off him as he laps his tongue.

The way he looks at you makes you want to ride his face all over again, but you know you needed a break if you didn’t want the night to end so soon. Kneeling in front of him, you raise your ass up high as you lean down to wrap your lips around his cock. He flinches, slightly sensitive, but doesn’t dare push you away. Instead, he rubs your face with his calloused thumb; encouraging you. There's something so hot about the way your lips stretch around his fat cock. The way drool exits your mouth, messy blots of mascaras on the corners of your eyes.

Light of my life. Fire of my loins.

Gagging around him, you squeeze your eyes shut, feet curling up along the way. For sure, your throat would be bruised tomorrow, but you didn’t mind. In fact, you wanted that. Deepthroating him as best as you can, your small hands wrap around the rest of his length. He was huge. Dirty slurps bounce off the walls. You try your best to not pull away when you feel his sticky pre-cum connect inside your throat. Not when he looked so good with his head thrown back. His thick neck is a clear display. With his large hands wrapped around your hair as he fucks your face like theres no tomorrow. Spanish curses flowing past his lips. 

“Que linda. Arrodillada como una santa.”

When you giggle around his erection, he groans, head thudding against the headboard. His mind quickly slips over to Ollie - but not in the way one might expect. It hits him like a truck when he compares her to you. With Ollie, she would last at least 20 minutes before calling it a night. He pretended not to mind - he would never force her to do something she doesn’t want to, of course - but once she would knock out, his large hand would slide down past his boxers, looking for a new release. 

Then there’s you, ever so pretty. It seems like with everything you do, you want more. You sucking him off as if you’ve done this for him a lifetime ago. Sure, you’re struggling, but that only makes him harder. You’re trying to keep up with him and it’s working. Now, it’s like he’s the one trying to keep up. Swallowing, your throat closes around him as he flies forward, voice cracking as he presses for more. 

Glossy eyes look back up at him as you repeat your action. With one last blow, he pulls out as he cums all over your face. His dick immediately gets hard again when you smile wide, fingers going to pick up his mess. Greedily, you pout as you wrap your lips around your finger like the lollipop you had been sucking on a few hours ago.

“Fuck,” he mumbles, abs contracting together as he tries his best to even out his breaths. 

“Will you fuck me now?” 

You’re moving at a snail's pace as you lick his sweaty neck. A chill runs down his spine with the feeling of your warm tongue. Grinding slowly against his thigh, you throw your head back with pleasure, wet lips rubbing against him. He smiles.

“You’re a dirty girl, you know that?”

“I thought that’s what you liked about me, papi.”

In a flash, he flips you onto your back as he hovers over you like a giant. A beautiful, beautiful, giant. His large muscles he works so hard for stare back at you as you admire with an open mouth. It looks as if he could carry mountains on his shoulders. Dilated pupils admire you as you let out a pathetic whimper. Long gone were his brown eyes as they now appear completely black. Sensual.

“Then you should be fucked as such.”

With that, he swings your tan legs over his broad shoulders, practically bending you like a pretzel. You pat yourself on the back for all those pilate classes. Jerking himself off a bit, he looks straight at you, making sure this was something you wanted. The way you bat your cartoon eyes is all he needs to slip inside of you.

First thing he notices is how tight you are despite him already stretching you out to perfection. Raw moans leave both your lips as you try your best to adjust to his size. You had been with men before - that’s all you really knew - but no one’s cock had ever made you burn with such satisfaction. More than satisfaction. He’s reassuring you with his words in order for you to relax.

I’ve got you, preciosa. Just let go for me. I’m right here.

Still, you can’t help but squirm underneath him. His fingers make their way to your mouth as you stare back confused. Suck, he commands before forcing them in. Caught off guard, you gag around them for a bit before your tongue begins to twirl around them. Your cheeks burn up as you hear your low mewls. Ah- ah- ah, you cry out against his digits as he grins down at you. Retracting them, he slides them down to your clit as he starts rubbing small circles.

“Oh God.”

Instantly, you open up against his tired cock as he hums. There you go, he praises as you make it easier for him to thrust into you. You should both be ashamed of the way gushy sounds bloom from your mixed cum. Or the way he pounds into you so hard and fast that it has you sliding further back against the bed, hair tangling along the way. His fingers dig into your calves as he holds them in place.

“Mierda,” he wheezes as he throws his head back, ripping his eyes away from the way your puffy clit envelopes around him. Pants and whimpers escape you as you arch your back from the fulfillment. 

Carlos is a man - you know that - but in this moment; right now: he’s proving it the way a scientist would their hypothesis. His cock brushes against your g-spot as you gasp at the sensation. He’s looking at you as if you held the key to all secrets. 

The keys for the gate to Heaven.

Though he knows that this all feels like Heaven, he deserves nothing but Hell for cheating on Ollie. But that’s the least of his worries.

“Does that feel good, bonita?” 

Wide eyes look up at him desperately as you nod to the point where your neck starts to ache. Yes - Oh God, yes. So good, Carlitos. Yeah, baby - right there. Snapping his hips harder against you, your mind goes foggy with the way his hair flops around him. Sweat causing long strands to stick to his face. Beads of sweat drip down your legs as he presses sloppy kisses. His cheeks look as if he’s been out in the sun for hours. 

In this moment; he looked immortal.

“Carlos, I’m gonna-”

“Hold it.”

Like a doll, you flop back against the bed as you start to leak acid. No - please. Don’t ask me to do that. Feeling a sharp sting, you gasp. His hands dives back in to massage your cheek after slapping you. He cocks his head with fake sympathy. “I know you can do it,” - thrust - “Wait for me, yeah?”

You have no word as you wail - tits bouncing with every assault from his hip. Your stomach burns with the way his abs glisten, with the way his bottom lip juts out, or the way his muscles shine with a layer of sweat as they hug your legs like a teddy bear. 

He was yours. In this moment, he was yours.

“Alright, linda-” He brushes your hair out of your face as he wipes your sweat with his hand. “Cum for me?”

It’s an out of body experience the moment you squirt around his dick - the way your tummy feels like it's on fire. Sore groans leave his lips as he finishes inside of you, brown eyes trained on the way you gush around him. He freezes in place at the feeling. You squirm for a few seconds below falling limp against the bed. The room smells like nothing but filthy sex. 

Pulling out of you, he carefully places your legs back down before kissing your ribs. Then your bruised tits. Then your cheeks, forehead, and lastly, your lips that taste like home. Sighing against him, you try your best to remember the way he kisses you as if you're the only form of oxygen that exists. As if this were a dystopian world and you were the only source of survival.

He pecks your lips once more before brushing his fingers against your temple. “Get some sleep.” Yawning, you nod as your eyes flutter like a butterfly's wings. Will you stay? And he doesn’t know what takes over him when he says-

“I will.”

-

When you wake up you notice it’s still dark out. The moon shines, eyes flickering around, looking for the Spaniard. You let out a low breath of relief when you see him sitting on the edge of the bed. 

“Ollie,” he whispers into the phone as he runs a hand against his jaw. “...I made a mistake.”

Your heart stops with his words. He makes sure to speak low, thinking you're sound asleep. She - I - it was a mistake. She’s just a kid…Fuck. She’s just a child. Your heart shatters with the evident blame in his voice. You weren’t a kid. Sniffling, you stop breathing when you realize you’re crying. He pauses for a moment before standing up and making sure you’re okay. Bringing the phone up against his ear, he shakes, already walking out the door.

“Where are you? Let me just see you, amor. I’ll explain it all.”

-

There’s a saying that goes: You know, a heart can be broken, but it keeps on beating, just the same.

You would personally like to punch that person in the face. It’s not true. It doesn’t beat the same - because then why does it hurt everytime it pounds against your chest? Why is it hard to breath when the priest says-

“You may now kiss the bride!”

Everyone’s faces are blurry; cheers sound far away. You can’t be too sure you're standing upright as your father beams at the sight of Ollie pressing her lips up against Carlos. The way his hands slide down to her waist as shows her off proudly like some champion ring is what hurts the most. You feel flames all over your skin, letting out a flinch when your fathers signals for you to clap, too.

You don’t know what happened after that night. Whether Ollie forgave him or not - though clearly she had. Maybe she didn’t know about you the same way he didn’t know about Ben. This was all starting to feel like some nightmare. But it’s very much real life with the way the newlyweds hold hands, smiling brightly as guests throw a mixture of confetti and baby breath.

“Nice ceremony.”

“What? Oh.” You shrug towards Max as he points over at the couple. “Y-yeah. It was…”

He goes over his next words for a moment because Lord knows that if he has it all wrong then he would appear to be the biggest jerk to ever exist. “You fell in love with him, didn’t you?”

“I-I-I’m not sure I understand,” you trample over your words as your cheeks burn the same color of your red dress. He shares a small smile.

“It’s okay. I won’t tell anyone.”

Walking away, you’re left alone, second guessing everything. The violin seemed too happy. The guests seemed too bright. All of this was fake, couldn’t they see? Pursing your lips, you try your best to hide your broken heart as you catch up with old friends. How is college? How does it feel like having a brother-in-law who drives for Formula 1? Must feel pretty great, right? 

The night is boring. Half of it you spend faking smiles and the other you spend trying to avoid the Spaniard. Life was better back in Spain, where ironically, he was never around despite it being his home country. You’re in the middle of conversing with the Dutchman - who quite frankly is an honest listener - when Ollie walks up looking like a ball of whipped cream. Can I talk to my sister alone, please? Max’s concerned eyes ask if you’re okay with that as you nod. Slumping away, he squeezes your knee one last time.

Blue Velvet plays as she fixes herself onto the stool right next to you. “Have you tried the cocktails? They have cherry flavored; your favorite.” Something about her sweet voice makes you unsteady as you raise a brow. She shows off her veneers. “This is weird. Sorry. I’m just so…happy.” 

“Good to know.”

“But enough about me!” She places her left hand over yours, shiny rock sitting perfectly. You wince. “I want to talk about you! How’s school?”

“Like you care.”

She pouts. “I do now…” You furrow your brows. What do you mean now? She gasps. “Oh, you poor thing! You don’t know I know!” Your stomach drops. “Well, you know, as your older sister, I’m also your guardian since our mother is too fucked up to look after you…And a little birdie filled me in on your reputation back in Spain.” She giggles as she takes a sip of your drink. “Doesn’t surprise me, though. It only makes sense that you keep messing around with men old enough to be your father. You always had a thing for those.”

“What does this have to do with anything?”

Ollie grins ear to ear when she notices how annoyed you’ve become. “Carlos told you he was born in Madrid, right? Okay, well, he also has a whole bloodline there. And let’s just say, a cousin of his - my goodness, his daughters are beautiful - is a professor at your Uni.”

No.

“And well this birdie also told me how you’ve been sneaking in and out of his lecture room, late at night. And I wonder…What have you and him been doing behind closed doors?”

It can’t be. 

Professor Vázquez de Castro, he says as he extends his hand out, eyes roaming every inch of your body.

Suddenly, the name sounds familiar. The surname is Carlos’ extended one. Ollie’s eyes shine. “I see it’s clicking.”

“What do you want from me?”

“I want you to leave me and my husband alone. I want you to grab your things and leave. Don’t look back; just leave. Don’t contact papi ever again. I don’t want to hear a single thing from you. It’s bad enough you’ve already fucked my spouse.”

She knows. He told her. And they still got married. 

“Ollie, don’t…”

Tugging your hand harshly, she slaps her phone on it. And you don’t know how, but in it, it’s a video of you riding your Professor - Carlos’ cousin.

“Leave or I’ll show this to him. Your choice.”

Wet sobs leave your mouth as you shake your head in disbelief. How did this happen? Who took this video?

“Ollie, please…I love him.”

Her gaze sharpens as she takes the phone back and stands up. “You know what to do.”

Bringing your shaky hand up to your lips, you stare in shock. Wobbly legs walk past Max as he asks if you’re okay. One last smile looks back at him before you brush past by. 

Carlos is craning his neck, looking for you. He had confessed that night, but so had Ollie. He was breaking off the engagement. Spilling apologies as she cried against his chest. Despite it all, he still cared for your sister. But he knew it wasn’t going to work out. He was ready to leave when she brought up the tape of you and a cousin he didn’t even know he had. I’ll get her expelled. Don’t do this, Carlos. And so he stayed. He knew how much you loved school, regardless of what others might think. I just want to help others, you swooned one day by the pool. It’s what I wish someone had done for me.

You get to him before he spots you as you tap on his shoulder. He fills up with worry when he sees your red brimmed eyes. Sheepishly, you take his handkerchief as you wipe your rosy nose. What happened? Who made you cry? You shrug.

“Carlos…I love you.” He blinks. You let out a wet laugh as you lean up to kiss him. You didn’t care who saw anymore. This was it. He doesn’t seem to care either as his hands wrap around your waist. Holding you close, as if you might vanish into thin air. He was the waves, you were the shore. Pulling away, you wink. “Save me a dance, yeah?” 

Then, you’re walking away. Becoming smaller as you stroll over to the Italian house. Clutching his chest, he chokes: I-I…I.

“Carlos!”

Turning to face Ollie, he sees her waving him over to the giant cake. 

“Coming.”

-

Running into the quiet house, he calls your name. He looks behind every door, hoping to find the girl in red. Stumbling up the stairs, he swings your door open. He breathes heavily when he doesn’t find you, even here. Panicked, he grips his hair in despair. Only then, does it occur to him to open the restroom door, hoping to not scare you.

“¿Bonita?”

Silence. He still pushes it open as he carefully walks in, finding no harm in checking. And why? Why couldn’t he be as truthful like you were? Risk it the way you would have willingly done. Why did he let you walk into the house alone?

Falling to his knees, he desperately crawls over to your lifeless body, dark blood flowing from your wrists. 

As red as your dress.

He must be dreaming. This can’t be real. Surely, it can’t.

“No, no, no.” He drags your limp body into his arms. He can’t even pinpoint the moment his tears flow down his face. “Bonita, no. No. No. No.” The Spaniard cradles your colorless face into his hands. He gently taps your face a few times, but almost stops breathing himself when it only rolls back. Blood stains his white shirt. “Hey, hey.  C’mon, please. You want me to say it?” Hurriedly, he picks up your head as he kisses your lips over and over. He winces when he feels how chapped they’ve become.

“It doesn’t feel forced. I’m not saying it because I think it’s what you want to hear - I love you. I do. I love you as infinite as the ocean. I love the way you laugh, the way you trip over anything in your way, the way you say my name…I love you.” 

But he knew you weren’t listening. Not anymore. 

A piece of him died that day along with you. After that, life was a sickening blur. He’s out of it the moment he hears your father yelling out in agony or when Ollie screams at the gruesome scene. 

None of it mattered anymore.

[uyuforu]

❀。 • *₊°。 ❀° 。 • *₊°。 ❀°。 ༻ Astro Observations XI ༺ ❀。 • *₊°。 ❀° 。 • *₊°。 ❀°。

All pictures were found on Pinterest

Other posts you could like:

જ⁀➴ Union Asteroid in Natal Chart

જ⁀➴ Groom/ Briede/ Juno Aspects in Natal Chart

જ⁀➴ Astro Observations X

❀。 • *₊°。 ❀° 。 • *₊°。 ❀°。❀。 • *₊°。 ❀° 。 • *₊°。 ❀°。❀。 • *₊°。 ❀° 。 • *₊°。 ❀°。❀。 • *₊°。 ❀° 。 • *₊°。 ❀°。❀。 • *₊°。 ❀° 。 • *₊°。

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⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ Natal Chart

❀ I read somewhere that Aries Rising often ignore people, even the closest people. My sister does that often, and she is also Aries Rising. ❀

❀ Also, the Rising sign and degree can say often how you look, your appearance but don't forget planets and other placements in your 1H! ❀

❀ Moreover, the Ruler of your Rising can also tell a lot about your appearance, meaning the sign and house placements of your Ruler. ❀

❀ I also noticed that whenever the Sun or Venus was transiting my 1H I was changing something on my appearance. It can also just be me adopting a new way to do my hair or my make up, etc. ❀

❀ Having Aries Descendant is a sign you'll have a spouse who will make you realize you are too nice, you are too generous with others, and they will teach you it's okay to tell people to go f*ck themselves. ❀

❀ Men who have Virgo Rising are the finest in my opinion, perhaps because I'm Virgo Venus but girl they are just so neat and take care of themselves so much, it's so refreshing. ❀

❀ Moreover, Virgo Rising men often age like fine wine. Their hot era is never ending. Just take Benjamin Bratt as an example. ❀

❀ If Pluto transiting your Natal Chart will give you clarity over which house it transits, and it will also be a huge transformation in it. I have it in my 4H, and I can tell you I see my family differently and learn a lot of hidden things. It hits like a b*tch. ❀

❀ Can we stop generalizing MC signs ? Cancer MC doesn't mean necessarily the person will do a job related to taking care of others. The sign over your MC is often a way to describe your needs in a career, but the planets in the 10h and the sign it is in matters, AND the ruler of the 10H as well. ❀

❀ Saturn conjunct Juno often means you'll marry your destined person later in life, and you could also meet later in life as well. ❀

❀ Juno conjunct Chiron is a sign your FS is wounded, in depression, or that they will need to heal to be with you. Being with your Future Spouse could also require a lot of sacrifices. ❀

❀ 4H Ruler in 7H people could often depend on their partner emotionally. They can also be the kind of person to want to only settle down with a partner. ❀

❀ Saturn 7H can have the same effect as Venus conjunct Saturn , you could have a delay in your love life, or find yourself having many lessons about it. You could have to live some failed relationships or romantic interactions in your early life, yet perhaps around your Saturn Return, you could have a better and long lasting love life. ❀

❀ Jupiter conjunct Saturn 7H could mean a delay in your marriage, perhaps marrying close to your 30's, but it could also mean after being married, your life will be very good, and you'll gain a lot because of marriage, and perhaps a lot of knowledge and wisdom as well. ❀

❀ I feel like even if you try hard, you'll never really know someone with Sun 8H/12H. They are quite good at showing exactly what they want you to see. ❀

⊱ ۫ ׅ ✧ Synastry

❀ Rising conjunct Venus often means Venus person will think Rising person is their ideal type. ❀

❀ I often found that when it's not a romantic connection, Sun in 7H Synastry is not a good relationship, yet often a toxic one. Sun person can tend to hate 7H person. ❀

❀ I feel like 2H, 6H & 10H are really underrated houses in Synastry. I think it's really good to have those houses, mostly if big 3 are there. ❀

❀ Sun conjunct Venus often makes the Sun person think Venus person is very attractive. They could also find Venus very charming and their type. ❀

❀ I often saw Juno 1H Synastry when there was love at first sight between two people. Often Juno person having love at first sight for 1H person. ❀

❀ Venus/ Juno/ Jupiter is very beneficial for "finding the house person good looking", and often if you have those planets in someone's 1H or conjunct their Rising, they will be your type. ❀

❀ Every time I had a friend who wanted to befriend me and who was also someone I got along with so much, they have a Stellium in my 11H. ❀

❀ Sun 12H Synastry can possibly make the 12H person forget about you often. ❀

❀ In some relationships, Venus in the 12H can say that 12H person doesn't feel the love Venus person try to give them, and could also feel unloved. ❀

❀ Moon conjunct Saturn can also be that Moon person feel totally misunderstood by Saturn person, or they could feel judged often by Saturn person. ❀

❀ Mars 3H can mean Mars person can often know the right words to hurt 3H person, they can speak to them in a harsh way as well. ❀

❀ Sometimes 12H placements aren't that bad, so take it with a grain of salt. For example, my mother has a Stellium in my 12H, and we are very connected. ❀

❀ Sun conjunct Jupiter often makes the two natives adore each other, they often get along very well, laugh together but also they often share the same opinion. Jupiter person often teach a lot of valuable lessons to Sun person. ❀

❀ Chiron conjunct Moon often means Chiron person will hurt Moon's feelings. I have this aspect with my uncle, he often is harsh with his words. I was scared of him when I was little. ❀

❀ Sun 8H can mean 8H person can feel like Sun person doesn't like them. ❀

❀ Moon 12H in Synastry can often tell us that Moon person will struggle to say to 12H person how they feel, or often share personal things about them. Though, it can also be a sign of deep spiritual connection. ❀

Thank you for reading!

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[00valentina-writes00]

nsfw alphabet for Ambessa and Sevika?

♡♥︎ NSFW alphabet - Sevika and Ambessa ♥︎♡

♥︎ Sevika ♥︎

A = Aftercare

Sevika isn’t the soft type, but she’ll make sure you’re taken care of. She’s the type to lay back, light a cigar, and pull you against her side while her hand rests on your hip. If she likes you, she’ll make sure you drink some water and clean you up—her version of aftercare is practical, not tender. But if you’ve really worn her down? She’ll let you rest against her chest, fingers idly tracing along your skin.

B = Body Part

On herself? Her arms. She knows the effect they have—the way they flex when she pins you down, the way you grab onto them when she’s wrecking you. On you? Your thighs and your mouth. She likes the way they shake when she’s between them, the way your lips look when they’re spit-slick and swollen from taking her fingers deep.

C = Cum

she’s greedy when she’s fucking. Whether it’s her fingers, her mouth, or a strap buried inside you, she wants to make sure you’re dripping after. If she’s using her strap, she’ll push in as deep as she can when you cum, grinding slow and hard to make sure you feel every inch.

D = Dirty Secret

She gets off on power, and the idea of having you at her mercy? That’s a huge turn-on. Whether it’s her hand around your throat, your wrists bound behind your back, or you kneeling in front of her with that desperate look in your eyes—she likes control, and she likes seeing you beg for it.

E = Experience

She knows exactly what she’s doing. Years of rough, no-strings-attached sex with Zaunites who can handle her intensity means she knows how to read a body, how to find the weak spots, how to push you past your limits. She’s not the type for slow, romantic sex, but she will fuck you so good you forget your own damn name.

F = Favorite Position

Anything that gives her control. She likes taking you from behind, a hand gripping the back of your neck or tangled in your hair as she drives into you. She also likes having you pinned against the wall, legs wrapped around her waist while she holds you up effortlessly.

G = Goofy

Sevika? Not a chance. She takes sex seriously, and if you try to joke around mid-fuck, she’ll shut you up real quick—probably by shoving her fingers in your mouth or pressing her palm over your lips.

H = Hair

She’s not the type to keep things pristine, but she does keep it trimmed. She’s not vain, but she’s practical—keeps herself well-groomed, just not obsessively so. She doesn’t care about a little hair, especially not when she’s got her mouth between your legs.

I = Intimacy

It’s rough. It’s dirty. Sevika isn’t the type to whisper sweet nothings in your ear, but she will groan your name like a growl, will press you down into the mattress and tell you how good you feel. It’s intense, almost brutal, but if she really cares? She’ll slow down, just enough to make you feel her.

J = Jack Off

Not often—she’d rather find someone to take care of her needs, and she usually can. But on the rare occasions she does, it’s quick and efficient, no messing around.

K = Kink

Power play, dominance, bondage. She likes control—restraining you, pinning you, making you beg. She also enjoys edging, keeping you right on the edge and denying you just to see you squirm. And if she’s in a mood? She’ll make you cum again and again until you’re too fucked-out to even speak.

L = Location

She’ll fuck you anywhere she can get away with it. In a back alley, in the club’s VIP lounge, pressed against the wall of some dingy bar bathroom. But her favorite? Her bed—because there, she can take her time ruining you.

M = Motivation

Seeing you weak for her. The way your breath hitches when she touches you just right, the way you whimper when she slows down just to tease you. Nothing gets her off more than knowing you’d do anything for her to keep fucking you.

N = No

She doesn’t do soft, overly romantic sex. If you’re looking for gentle lovemaking, she’s not your girl. She also won’t tolerate brattiness for the sake of it—if you want to challenge her, you’d better be ready for the consequences.

O = Oral

Sevika eats pussy like it’s her job. She’s slow and methodical when she wants to be, but she can also be ruthless—licking, sucking, fucking you with her tongue until you can’t think straight. She loves the taste of you, loves the way you tug on her hair when she’s got you spread open.

P = Pace

Hard. Deep. Relentless. She doesn’t do half-measures—when she fucks you, she fucks you. She can keep going for ages, only stopping when she’s satisfied with how wrecked you look.

Q = Quickie

She likes them when the mood strikes—grabbing you by the waist, pushing you up against the nearest surface, getting herself off with no regard for anything else. But she prefers taking her time, drawing things out, making you feel it.

R = Risk

She’s down for trying new things, as long as they align with her need for control. You wanna be tied up? Done. Want her to fuck you somewhere risky? Say less. But anything that puts her in a vulnerable position? That’s a no-go.

S = Stamina

She can go for multiple rounds, and she will. She’ll make you cum until you’re trembling, until you can barely take it anymore, and then she’ll still push you further.

T = Toys

She likes using them on you. Straps, vibrators, restraints—whatever gets you coming undone under her. She’s not against you using them on yourself while she watches, either.

U = Unfair

She’s a sadistic tease. She’ll pull out just as you’re about to cum, force you to beg for it, smirk while you whimper. And if you get too desperate? She might just ruin you completely.

V = Volume

She’s not loud, but she growls. Low, deep groans, rough murmurs of approval. And if she’s really into it? She’ll curse under her breath, tell you how fucking good you feel.

W = Wild Card

She loves pressing you against a wall, one hand around your throat while she fucks you deep and slow, watching your face twist in pleasure. Something about the control, the power—it gets her off just as much as it gets you off.

X = X-ray

Thick, full, and strong. Her breasts are firm, not too large, but enough to grab onto when she’s on top. Her clit? Prominent and sensitive, and she knows how to use it when she grinds against you.

Y = Yearning

Her sex drive is high, but she doesn’t need it all the time. When she does want it, though? You’re in for a long, long night.

Z = Zzzz

She doesn’t fall asleep right away—she’ll watch you, enjoy the way you’re still breathless, still trembling from how she just fucked you. When she does sleep, it’s deep and heavy, arms wrapped around you like she’s claiming you all over again.

♥︎ Ambessa ♥︎

A = Aftercare

Ambessa is a warrior, not a lover, but she believes in taking care of what belongs to her. After she’s thoroughly fucked you, she’ll pull you into her arms, press a firm kiss to your forehead, and stroke your body with slow, possessive hands. She expects you to rest—she’s worked you hard, after all. If you’re too sore to move, she’ll carry you to a warm bath, her large hands washing over your skin with the same power she just used to wreck you.

B = Body Part

On herself? Her hands. Her thick, calloused fingers are built for war, but they handle you with an almost obscene precision, knowing exactly where to press, where to squeeze, how to fuck you open until you’re gasping. On you? Your ass and thighs. She loves leaving handprints on your soft flesh, gripping your hips hard enough to bruise when she takes you from behind, watching the way you tremble under her hold.

C = Cum

She’s an absolute fucking menace about it. If she’s using her hands or her mouth, she’s not satisfied until you’re a ruined, dripping mess. If she’s using a strap, she’ll fuck you until you can’t keep your legs up, pressing deep inside you and growling against your neck as you clench around her. She loves the sight of you soaked, spent, marked by her.

D = Dirty Secret

She gets off on control. It’s not just about fucking you—it’s about owning you. The way you submit to her, the way you moan her name like a prayer, the way you tremble when she orders you to open your legs and take it—that’s what sends a pulse of heat straight to her core.

E = Experience

Ambessa Medarda is no stranger to pleasure. She’s had lovers in every city she’s conquered, women who’ve tried (and failed) to dominate her in bed. She knows exactly what she’s doing, and she has the stamina, technique, and brutal determination to make sure you never forget it.

F = Favorite Position

She loves having you bent over something—a desk, a bed, the arm of a chair—so she can mount you, grip your waist, and fuck you hard enough to leave your knees weak. But she also loves putting you in her lap, forcing you to ride her strap while her hands roam over your body, controlling every movement until you’re a shaking mess.

G = Goofy

Ambessa doesn’t do silly in bed. She’s intense, focused, commanding. If you giggle or joke, she’ll silence you with a firm grip on your jaw, dragging her thumb over your lips before shoving it into your mouth.

H = Hair

She keeps herself well-groomed, but she’s not obsessive. She trims when needed, but she doesn’t have time for vanity. If you care about it, she might let you shave her—an act of trust, one that comes with the weight of her dominance.

I = Intimacy

Her brand of intimacy is possessive. She’s not the type to whisper sweet words, but she will kiss you slow and deep, will hold your throat with a firm grip while she fucks you raw, will press her forehead to yours when you’re shaking beneath her.

J = Jack off

Rarely. Ambessa prefers having a warm body beneath her, a lover who can satisfy her hunger. If she does take care of herself, it’s quick, rough, and done with the sole purpose of release.

K = Kink

Dominance. She owns you in the bedroom—there’s no question about it. She enjoys restraint, bending you to her will, pushing you to your limits. She likes spanking, the sound of her palm cracking against your skin. She enjoys obedience—being worshipped, hearing you beg, watching you submit to her completely.

L = Location

Anywhere she wants. Her quarters, her war tent, against the nearest wall—she doesn’t care as long as she can take you the way she wants. If you push her far enough? She’ll grab you by the waist and throw you over a table, fucking you without a second thought.

M = Motivation

Your submission. The way you whimper when she grips your jaw, the way your body reacts when she so much as looks at you with intent. Nothing gets her off more than the knowledge that you belong to her.

N = No

She won’t be submissive. She refuses to be weak, even in bed. She also has no patience for brattiness—if you disobey, you’ll be punished.

O = Oral

Ambessa lives between your thighs. She’s relentless, her tongue skilled and rough, her hands holding you in place as she feasts on you. She’ll keep licking, sucking, dragging her tongue over you until you’re sobbing for her to stop—but she won’t. Not until she’s had her fill.

P = Pace

Brutal. Merciless. She fucks like she fights—powerful, aggressive, unyielding. She drives into you, pins you down, makes you take everything she gives. She’s got the stamina to go for hours, and she will push you past your limits.

Q = Quickie

She enjoys dragging things out, savoring every second—but if she needs you now, she’ll take you fast and hard, shoving her fingers into you and grinding against you with desperate, growling hunger.

R = Risk

She enjoys taking control, pushing boundaries, testing your limits. She’s not reckless, but she loves the thrill of knowing she can take you wherever, whenever, however she pleases.

S = Stamina

Endless. She’s a warrior—built for endurance, trained to outlast any opponent. She can go for as many rounds as you can handle, and then some. You’ll pass out before she even thinks about stopping.

T = Toys

She doesn’t need them, but she will use them on you—straps, restraints, anything that makes you weak under her control. If she’s feeling particularly cruel, she’ll tie you down, tease you with a toy until you’re a sobbing mess, and then leave you wanting.

U = Unfair

She lives to tease. She’ll whisper filth in your ear, drag her fingers between your legs, get you so close—then stop, just to watch you writhe. She loves breaking you, making you beg for her to finish what she started.

V = Volume

She’s not loud, but she’s vocal. She groans deep in her chest, growls your name against your skin, murmurs low, filthy praises in your ear. And if you make her really lose control? She’ll let out a deep, guttural moan that sends shivers down your spine.

W = Wild Card

She loves fucking you against a wall—picking you up, pinning you there, driving into you until you can barely breathe. She enjoys seeing your legs wrapped around her waist, your body completely at her mercy.

X = X-ray

She’s strong, broad, and solid. Her breasts are firm and full, a mix of softness and power. Her clit is thick, sensitive, and she knows exactly how to scissor it against you for maximum pleasure.

Y = Yearning

Her sex drive is ravenous. She’s an insatiable force, always ready to take you again, to bend you to her will. If she wants you, she has you.

Z = Zzzz

She doesn’t sleep right away—she likes watching you, enjoying the way you look utterly ruined beneath her. When she does sleep, she’ll pull you against her chest, her arm heavy and protective around your waist.

[quartztwst]

Wedding in the Clouds! (TWST Fan-Event)

Happy Valentine’s Day! 💕💕 I finally finished this fan-event for my 3k followers celebration!

Summary of the event:

On one fine day, you recieve a wedding invitation from a mysterious someone named Dione. It says to be a wedding for Azul and QUARTZ?! Wait, don’t they hate eachoth- SUDDENLY, a bright light from the invitation blinds your eyes and you end up on a soft, fluffy cloud. Voices of other people groaning and waking up is heard too. It seems like other students from NRC were also transported here.. But why?

A light pink skinned lady grabs all of the students attention and announces that you all are wedding guests. She introduces herself as Dione, one of the most powerful mages in Twisted Wonderland. Dione’s attitude was very sweet yet it was very conscending like she was running some sort of workplace. Behind her was Quartz and Azul chained by vines from the cloud beneath everyone. They seemed to react accordingly as Quartz was shouting profanties and throwing a whole fit while Azul was trying to focus on the fact he was being embarrassed in front of a quarter of NRC but Quartz’s outburst was irritating him.

As they were taken away, Dione explained to everyone they were to forcibly help set the wedding up for the bride and groom with her bird minions. If anyone refuses, they will be thrown off from the clouds or forced into a prison made of vines. WIth a quick flick of her hand, everyone’s clothes were suddenly changed into wedding attire.

Once Dione left, the students started to split up and find a way to crash the wedding, but not for Quartz and Azul. The thing was…

THEY HAD A DAY OFF TODAY and who wants to spend it on a stupid wedding? They had plans!

Event Information:

There are 4 different operations going on at the same time to ruin the wedding because a lot of the students disagreed in which way to take this. You have an option to draw your OC in which ever operation!!

It looks like from the background that the place has no buildings but there are plenty made by Dione:

A building for the cake and food <- ran by geese

A place for the Bride to get ready in

A place for the Groom to get ready in

Dione’s place located on a cloud that is higher than the other clouds so she can watch over yall

A place where the decorations and necessities for the wedding are being delivered by doves, pelicans, storks <- they are also not weak, they dont play. they will fight back if disrupted)

and then the wedding atlar which is just the background it’s outside so its just the resting area

Quartz’s dress, Bride’s Tower, and delivery birds

Operation 1: Ruin the Wedding

Led by Idia. Objective is to ruin the wedding like destroying the cake, decorations, finding Dione’s weakness, ruining the whole set up, exploding shit idk

Description of the attire: Wedding outfits with a bit of technology accessories by Idia Shroud himself. (the leech twins have one ear bud in but i didn’t draw their ears in detail..) You can get creative with the tech accessories

Operation 2: Save the Bride

Led by my MC/Yuu and Grim (you can also add ur Yuus/Mcs in too!!). Objective is to sneak past the geese guards and save Quartz to stop the wedding.

Description of the attire: Wedding outfit is fine !! but you can get creative with it like “oh heh.. im the maid and uhhh quartz shat herself and i need to help her so let me in” or smth 😭😭😭

Operation 3: Do Nothing/Other

Basically you do nothing. Led by nobody lol. What’s your OC’s objective for doing nothing? Do they want to see the wedding? Do they not care enough because it might be over anyways? Is there no hope?

I didn’t draw anyone here bc it’ll be just wedding attire 😭😭

Operation 4: Steal the Groom

This is for all my Azul likers heh.

Since Azul and Quartz are being rushed to get ready, a lot of clothes are being thrown out and sent back in the boxes laying around so why not reuse them? Maybe you can use it to ruin the wedding and steal Azul’s heart awayy once they’re done dressing him up…..

Description of the Attire: Wedding Bride or Groom outfitss hehee

Rules:

NO weird outfits that sexualizes OCs

Use the tag #WedCloudEvent or tag me if you make a post of this event!!

Please be respectful to everyone’s OCs

You can also draw other TWST characters here if you want!!

Have fun!!

Here’s the background for your OCs!!

List of OCs/Characters:

Operation 1: Ruin the Wedding -

Idia Shroud

Floyd Leech

Jade Leech

Moch by @thatsadguymochi

Daphne by @pomevinelle

Yuya by @cheerleaderman

Akshara by @twistedtalestory

Alastor by @chaotic-snow

Yvonne by @juchioris

Kogane by @kogane-twst

Dimitrios by @twsted-void

Cupid by @nivvetsworld

Neuvins by @lapinhearts

Riddle (design by @lapinhearts)

Airinniz by @hanizmiyu

Kozakura Yuuka by @hanizmiyu

Nyx by @blackcat101

Operation 2: Save the Bride -

My Yuu/MC

Grim

Silly by @sillybillymillyrilly

Silver (design by @0ann3 )

Yu (Yuri Takeba) by @0ann3

Loralyn by @chizramue

Mizuki by @sherryclover

Starr by @astral-pr0jecti0n

Xenon by @w0nd3rhoy

Yuubeni by @bunniehunn

Superstar! And Yuu By @imafrealinrainbow478484

Yukitaka by @yumaandyukitaka

Aki by @rinxleona

Rui by @rinxleona

Pluto by @teddyandmochi

Operation 3: Do Nothing/Other -

AJ by @karamatsuboy-aj

Oisín by @xen-blank

Mama Hua by @lafashionlsta

Yuuko by @silkkorchid

Soul by @twistedplayer16

Operation 4: Steal the Groom -

Rémy by @ranas-twisted-wonderland

Ayesha by @iluvmusicxoxo

Yuura by @a-z-rie-l

Alice by @sinjaangels

ANYWAYS this is just an event I made out of my ass HELFP im sorry if theres a whole bunch of holes here 😭😭 and Idia and the Tweels outfits are SUPER SLOPPY so I can’t wait to see how everyone else makes their OCs’ outfits prettier also Quartz and Azul do not like each other here so be free to do anything lol

Happy Valentine’s Day! 💕💕💕🎉🎉🎉🎉

[lemonlover1110]

𝐈𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐮𝐥𝐚𝐝𝐚

Toji Fushiguro

[Chapter 1] Indecent Proposal

Story Masterlist

Pairing: Knight!Toji Fushiguro x Princess!Reader

Chapter Warnings: Suggestive Content, Minor Sex Talk

Story Summary: This is what'll get Toji killed... But how can he reject her when she looks up at him with such beautiful eyes? A man that's been to war won't be killed by the edge of a sword but rather the lips of a woman.

He shouldn’t lay a finger on her, but he’ll do anything that she asks him to. She’s his princess, he has to follow her every word.

No taglist

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi - Bluesky

“Toji!” You yell from the top of your lungs, and the man that stands outside your door can’t help but sigh. He knocks on the door of your room, only for you to yell some obscenities. He rolls his eyes before opening the door. 

What a kind and proper princess. He’s won wars only to deal with this. The scars on his body mean nothing. Protecting the princess should be of the highest honor– If only she weren’t such a brat.

“What, princess?” He questions as his eyes widen. It should be no shocker to find you underdressed, but he can’t help but be surprised each and every time. You truly don’t view him as a man.

“Help me with the corset.” You order as his eyes land on your maid. The woman has stepped aside to let him take charge. 

“Isn’t it tight enough?” He questions, seeing how tight it looks. It looks proper enough, but it seems that you want it to suffocate you. Your request alone tells him where you’re going tonight.

“Get to work.” You tell him, not answering his question. He’s right, it is tight enough, but it could be tighter. Toji grabs the strings on the back and you hold your breath as he pulls. Tonight is going to be long, but it’ll all be worth it.

“Where are we going?” He foolishly asks, as if he didn’t know. You’re trying to see those who you call friends. The ones that snicker when you turn your back to them. 

“Did you forget, Toji?” You ask as he pulls some more. He furrows his eyebrows, trying to recall what’s happening tonight. There’s no response from him, letting you know that he’s completely forgotten. “My engagement party.”

“Of course, finally.” He responds. “You’re finally meeting the prince that I’ve been hearing nonstop about for–” 

“He isn’t here.” You cut him off, leaving the man at a loss for words. An engagement party with no groom, what else did Toji expect from royalty? “He couldn’t make it tonight so we’re moving on without him.”

“Will this happen at the wedding too?” Toji mutters, something that your keen hearing picks up on. And you just can’t keep your mouth quiet about it, you have to say something. 

“Shut up, Toji. What do peasants even know about weddings?” You roll your eyes before they fall on your maid. You mouth an apology to her for your comment; it’s meant to offend Toji, not her. 

The old woman laughs, finding the bickering as a great source of entertainment. She got annoyed with it at first, but after two years of watching it happen before her eyes, she’s grown fond of it. It’s nice to see you get along with someone that’s just not her. Maybe getting along isn’t the right phrase to describe your relationship with Toji, but she’s not sure how else to put it.

“Do you think we get married in a pig’s sty or what?” Toji questions as he lets you go, patting your back twice to let you know that he’s done. 

“Yes. In a place full of shit and with loud animals.” You add, making Toji scoff. In a way, Toji should be honored. You don’t speak to anyone else like this.

“Just shout my name if you need anything else.” He responds, something that he shouldn’t even bother saying since that’s what’ll happen anyway. Your voice stops him before he can walk out the door.

“Emerald uniform tonight.” You remind him, and he hums in response. An improper response, but proper for an improper princess.

“Toji.” The man hears from a sweet familiar voice. He’s hiding in the kitchen, filling his stomach up before the engagement party tonight. He already feels it in his veins, tonight will be interminable.

“Hanako, can I help you?” Toji asks as he stuffs his mouth with a crab cake. Kitchen staff have slapped his hand one too many times tonight, but he still manages to sneak some food in. “Does the princess need me?” 

“The kitchen staff told me to come here to drag you away.” Your old maid tells him, making him click his tongue. He can’t even enjoy a proper meal in the damned castle. 

“I’m just having a short meal before watching over the brat and her friends tonight.” Toji’s words are barely comprehensible with all the food in his mouth.

“Do not refer to the princess as a brat.” Hanako slaps the back of his head, making the man whine. Who thought that such an old woman could have such a firm hand? “She is a very kind woman, do not speak like that about her.”

“Why does the princess hate me then?” He questions, his hand rubbing the spot that Hanako hit.

“The princess does not hate you.” She responds, and he rolls his eyes.

Right, is that why you insult him so much? Toji doesn’t care enough about it, but he does notice how you treat him differently from everyone else. You’re kind to everyone in your surroundings— Whether they’re royalty or the help. But Toji? He’s a whole different story.

“Then why does she act the way she does?” He asks, and the old woman can’t help but chuckle. She should keep her mouth quiet about it, but there’s no harm in it. You’ll be getting married soon.

“Well, dear, don’t tell anyone else this but…” She begins, looking around the kitchen. Everyone is too worried about making a feast, that they aren’t paying attention. She still does lower her voice before confessing to him, “The princess has a tiny crush on you, and she isn’t a woman that’s in touch with her feelings.”

His eyes widen as his lips turn into a straight line. The old woman is messing with him… He didn’t expect it from Hanako of all people, but he’s been proven wrong. 

“A crush, huh? Don’t lie to me, old woman.” Toji’s words earn him another slap, this time on his forehead. He whines again, rubbing that spot as he tells her, “You have such a firm hand…”

“Respect your elders.” She tells him, hand wrapping around his wrist to drag him out of the kitchen. He should fight it, but he knows better than to argue with the elderly.

“Toji…” Toji’s sick of hearing his name, and the night is far from over… How could he forget that the engagement party is tonight?

His eyes fall on Mayu, a maid that works closely with him in the castle. She smiles brightly at Toji, a man that can’t return the sentiment. He’s exhausted to say the least.

“Hi, Mayu.” He greets her, not caring to look twice at her. She’s a nice girl that keeps Toji company whenever he’s not watching after a certain someone that makes him want to rip his hair out. However, whenever he’s working he’s not all that interested in her.

“The emerald uniform tonight, huh? The princess insisted that everyone wears this awful color.” The woman laughs, hoping that Toji joins in, but his mind is elsewhere. Toji ponders on the old woman’s comment– A crush on him? She’s turning senile.

“The princess gets what she wants.” He replies, making Mayu hum in response. She keeps trying to make conversation with him, but it’s obvious that the man doesn’t care enough. He zones out for a minute, in which he realizes that she’s still talking. 

“So I was wondering…” She begins, and he raises his eyebrow. “Will you–”

“Toji!” She’s interrupted before she can ask her question. She rolls her eyes, realizing that it’s by none other than the woman herself. Her eyebrows furrow when she sees the man’s reaction. His jaw nearly drops as he realizes why you’ve chosen emerald of all colors for tonight, luckily, he manages to remain his composure.

“What is it, princess?” Toji responds, while Mayu begins to walk away. You walk over to him, looking both ways to see if you spot the old woman.

“Have you seen Hanako? She’s supposed to help me get ready.” You ask him as he looks you up and down. He’s almost checking you out– But oh, your father would tear him to shreds. 

“You look ready to me. Certainly not how I found you earlier.” He answers, and a frown comes to your face. That wasn’t the question you asked, so why is he answering like that? 

“Answer my question, Toji.” You tell him, which ends up with him shrugging.

“Don’t know. Last time we talked, she was dragging me out of the kitchen.” He informs you, making you laugh as you shake your head disappointedly. 

“When do you not think about eating?” You point out, and he puts his hands up defensively.

“I wouldn’t be this hungry if you fed me.” He argues, making you click your tongue.

“You’re a big boy, you can feed yourself.” You argue back, and he gives you a peculiar look before clearing his throat.

“Touché, princess. Next time I’ll leave my post to get myself some food.” He replies, speaking to you as if he’s won the argument. However, there’s no way to win an argument if you’re involved. 

“You know you can leave without an issue.” You tell him, which makes him cross his arms. You stare at each other for a minute before he reminds you,

“Your father would kill me.”

“I don’t need protection all day every day.” You respond.

“Your father would kill me.” He emphasizes, making you scoff. He’s won, but you’d never admit it.

“I’ll feed you, just help me put on my necklace.” You say, and he has no other option but to follow behind you. He’s no longer hungry, but it’s not like he has the option to refuse to help you.

Toji stands in the doorway, watching as you rummage to find the necklace you’re wearing tonight. Knowing you, you probably lost it in a matter of hours. It’s funny, you have so much that you hold little regard to a piece of jewelry that could secure the stability and wellbeing of a village.

Luck is really a hilarious concept. You have everything while so many struggle to survive. Not only wealth, but the looks and intelligence that many people lack. Your only downside is that you’re a damned brat, but even poor people can act like you do. Maybe that’s why you annoy Toji so easily, you have nearly everything a person could ask for, yet you fail to realize it.

“Bingo!” You exclaim, proudly holding up the velvety black box. You walk over towards Toji, and hand it to him. He scoffs, when you fail to open the box, which is the simplest task that he can think of. 

His eyes glimmer when he opens the box, admiring the beautiful stones that will adorn your neck tonight. No farmer will ever see this much money in their lifetime, let alone hold it in their hands like Toji is right now. He can’t ponder on that thought though, there’s nothing he can do about it. 

That’s just the way life is.

He takes the necklace and puts it on your neck, his big fingers struggling with the small clasp. He mutters a few curses under his breath, causing you to laugh. Toji rarely struggles on a task, and apparently, this is one of them.

“You know, I can save you a dance if you’d like.” You say out of the blue, trying to make conversation to fill in the gaps of silence. You know Toji enough to know that he’ll reject it, but maybe just maybe, tonight he’ll change his mind.

“I have two left feet.” He answers, making you chuckle. You should’ve expected as much– At least this time around he didn’t bring up how inappropriate it’d be, and how he’s just the protection. Toji finally gets the necklace on. 

“Luckily for you, I have two right feet so I balance it out.” You respond, turning around and grabbing his hands. He’s quick to retract them from your grasp. Toji likes to play it safe. Once upon a time, he was completely different but once upon a time he didn’t work in the castle. 

“A proper princess such as yourself shall not dance with a peasant.” He’s using the various arguments he’s heard throughout the years against you, and he can tell that you’re not exactly pleased with it. You puff out a breath, crossing your arms.

“Suit yourself.” You say, walking out of the room to which he’s forced to follow. “Just so you know, that was a once in a lifetime offer. I’ll never ask you to dance with me again.”

“I won’t be missing out.” He comments, making you momentarily glare at him. At that moment he thinks of the old woman’s words again… A crush? Maybe she isn’t as senile as he thought.

“Toji.” The same soft voice from earlier calls out his name, and he rolls his eyes. It’s nothing against Mayu, she’s a sweet girl, Toji is just sick of hearing the stupid name over and over again. He doesn’t even like it, so why do people love to say it?

He looks around the ballroom, excessively decorated just for one night. The palace is always clean, and decorated but never this pristine. There’s flowers in every corner and he swears he sees his reflection on the floor. There’s a massive orchestra performing for the guests, playing music that can bore him to death. 

The castle almost looks lively. Almost.

“What is it?” He sounds annoyed. He’s just standing in the corner, waiting for the princess to make her grand entrance before he’s allowed to take a break. The place is going to be filled with guards, he’s not needed until you decide to leave.

“I was wondering if you’d… Like to dance with me after all of these guests leave?” She looks down at the ground in shame, quickly regretting the question. He should be the one to ask, but she knows that he’d never step up and do it. She just assumes that it just isn’t the type of guy Toji is.

“After the orchestra leaves? With what music?” Toji responds, and she bites down her lip. She never really thought about that.

“Perhaps the princess will give us a chance to dance. It is courting season.” She says, making Toji chuckle. It’s not for the reason she thinks though.

“Courting season is for noblewomen.” He reminds her, a rather harsh reminder. Maybe in another life she’ll be born as the princess, but she certainly doesn’t have that sort of luck this time around.

“Right.” She subtly nods, disappointed by the answer. She bites down her lip, looking around the place. She tries to change the topic to something that Toji would be more willing to talk about, “Is the princess being insufferable today?”

She’s met by a cold gaze, and she just wants to dig a hole and crawl in it. Nothing she says or does impresses him. She should know better than to try.

“Hey, Toji…” She mutters again, just as you make your grand entrance. The way his pupils dilate as he watches you come down the stairs. There’s no change in facial expression, but his eyes are a dead giveaway.

She’s ignored, but she doesn’t try again. She won’t compete with a princess. Toji will eventually crawl to her. One morning he’ll wake up and realize that he’ll never be accepted into royalty.

His eyes are dead set on you, as you begin to dance with your father. The first dance should be for your fiancé… Yet, the man isn’t here. Toji wonders what the point of an engagement party is if your fiancé isn’t here. You’ll just stand in a corner, and watch everyone dance whilst the jealous nobles speak ill of you.

He’s noticed that everything the royals do is for show. Otherwise, this engagement party would’ve been canceled.

“I’m taking my break.” Mayu comments, something that falls on deaf ears again. Toji should leave behind Mayu, but he keeps staring at you. He’s watching as you walk over to the group of women that you call your friends. 

Toji rolls his eyes before following Mayu, deciding that he won’t watch you make a fool of yourself tonight. 

“Toji.” He’s nearly drooling on the kitchen table, his drowsiness getting the best of him. He doesn’t know whether he wants to kill them or thank them for waking him up; he guesses it’s the latter since he’s still on duty. He doesn’t want to be caught slacking off, especially not by–

“Princess?! What are you doing back here?” His eyes snap wide open at the realization that it’s you. At least it’s not the king. You won’t get him in trouble for sleeping. A big yawn escapes his lips before he asks, “Aren’t you supposed to be dancing the night away?”

“You know…” You begin, taking a seat with him on the table. He notices the spark in your eyes is gone, knowing that it’s all because of your friends. They said something and now you’re here, instead of enjoying your engagement party. “An engagement party isn’t all that fun when your fiancée isn’t there.”

“Well, I’m sure he had a great reason.” Another yawn escapes Toji’s lips as he tries to reassure you. It’s not late or anything, the day just tires you out when all you hear is your name being called over and over again. 

“I wouldn’t know myself.” You awkwardly chuckle, and now he knows the talking point of the evening. He doesn’t know how, but the women manage to get under your skin. You just seek approval from everyone, perhaps it’s because you don’t have many friends.

“If it helps, I have a huge sword that can take care of the problem.” Toji jokes, but you furrow your eyebrows. You have no idea what he’s talking about, and he won’t explain himself either. He clears his throat before asking, “Do you want to take a walk?”

“Yeah.” You end up agreeing, standing up from your chair. He walks behind you as you look for an exit, which ends up on him grabbing your hand and leading you to the outside. You’ve lived in this castle for over twenty years, yet he knows the place better than you. It’s good that he’s by your side, because you’d be lost otherwise.

You can still hear the music from the orchestra inside, the sound becoming faint as you walk further away. You might not know your way inside, but you know the walk straight to the garden from anywhere.

Toji won’t speak unless he’s spoken to, that’s his role.

“Do you think it’s dumb to marry someone you don’t know?” You suddenly ask him, walking to the fountain that ties together the garden. Toji bites down his tongue. Being honest isn’t the best policy here. He knows how to pick his battles, and frankly, this isn’t one that’s worth fighting. 

Sure, you tend to bicker a lot but he says stuff that is harmless. He never plans to hurt your feelings, it’s not something he intends to face the consequences for. 

“Toji, answer.” You insist, hating the silence that you’re met with. “Staying silent is an answer either way.”

“Well…” He sighs. You take a seat on the edge of the fountain, looking up at the man. He looks hesitant, telling you all you need to know. “I’ve always thought that you’re supposed to marry for love.”

“Yeah…” You look down at the ground, almost in shame. Toji doesn’t understand why, because you have everything a human could ask for– He married for love once, and it was stripped from his hands. Love doesn’t secure anything; the power and money in your hands is a guarantee to a good life.

“It’s not worth it anyway.” Toji reassures you, something that he rarely does. He doesn’t have to, you’re never self conscious. Unless you bump into your friends, then your mind completely changes.

“Right! You were married once, how was that?” You look back up at him, curiosity brimming your eyes. Toji shakes his head, deciding not to speak. You end up sighing before talking again, “They know more about him than I do… And it feels weird.”

“What do they know?” He asks, and he watches you bite down your lip. Your face ends up going into your hands as you tell him,

“They say he’s a sex freak.” Your words come muffled, and he blames what he hears on that. Those words did not just come out of your mouth.

He frowns before asking, “What did you say, princess? I didn’t quite catch that.”

“He’s known to be promiscuous.” He hears you loud and clear this time around, and his eyes go wide. He’s perplexed by the response, but he shouldn���t be. Royalty or not, a man is still a man. He’s not sure how to answer, leaving you to speak by yourself. “What if I’m not enough for him? I mean I know nothing and–”

“I’m sure you’ll be more than enough.” Toji ends up cutting you off before you can ramble. You furrow your eyebrows, crossing your arms like the damned brat that you are.

“For you, maybe.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He quickly asks, and you click your tongue.

“You’re a peasant. Peasants are satisfied with anything they pick from a brothel– But he’s royalty.” You explain, making Toji scoff. He mimics you, crossing his arms while staring you down.

“Where do you think your royal prince is going to be promiscuous?” He leans down, getting into your face. If the king saw him, his head would roll off for being too close to the precious princess. “Maybe you’re right. I wouldn’t be satisfied with you either.”

“Good thing you’ll never be the prince.” You stick out your tongue at him, and Toji rolls his eyes. 

“You’ll be fine, princess.” He ends up telling you, but that’s not enough to soothe the sudden wave of nerves. “You need to stop listening to those women. They’re jealous of your status.”

“Toji…” Your breath hitches, thinking if you really want to ask him the question. No, you shouldn’t. It’s not appropriate– You still spit it out, “How do you have sex?”

“Princess, I was there when they taught you this. I don’t have to explain this to you.” Toji quickly answers, trying to look unphased by the rather odd question. It’s a good thing someone else is raising his son because he doesn’t know how to handle it. “Which was quite weird, considering you were well into your twenties.”

“No, I mean how is it enjoyable? How do you make a man enjoy it?” You’re practically interrogating him, and while Toji isn’t one to get nervous, this isn’t sitting well with him.  

“It’s just something that…” He begins, and he can’t bring himself to say it. Instead he extends his hand for you to take, insisting, “Let’s go back inside.”

“What?” You’re quite annoyed that he doesn’t give you the answer to your question.

“Look, princess. There’s no explanation. It just feels good when it’s with the right person, that’s that.” He ends up giving in, very clearly sharing your sentiment of annoyance. “Now, let’s go back inside before your father kills me.”

“Fine.” You roll your eyes, taking his hand and standing up. He guides you back inside, where you’re everyone’s prey once again. Your eyes keep wandering back to him, but before you know it, Toji’s out of sight.

“Hmm… Toji.” She knew that this is how she’d end up tonight. No matter how much Toji tries to ignore her, he ends up coming back to her in the darkest moments of the night. 

Toji marks Mayu’s neck, knowing that she had no way of hiding it tomorrow. She likes to think that it’s because he’s possessive, rather than him just being reckless. It doesn’t matter the reason, she’s still digging her nails into his back as his kisses get lower and riskier.

“Toji!” They both hear, making the man freeze. She puts her index finger over his lips. If he doesn’t make a sound, they’ll go away. “I need your help!”

“She’ll leave if you don’t say anything.” Mayu whispers, and Toji’s too in the moment so he agrees. It’s his job as your assigned knight, but it’s after hours. 

He thinks he’s safe after a minute, but the man often forgets how invasive you can be.

“Toji–” The door opens, and he looks back at you. Your eyes go wide and you immediately cover your face, protecting yourself from the compromising situation. He stares back at you with guilty eyes, as if he’s tainted your innocence in any manner. 

“What is it, princess?” He asks, getting himself off Mayu and grabbing a shirt. It’s after hours, you’re assigned a different guard until the morning. What can he do that your guard possibly can’t?

“It’s fine, after further thought, I can handle it.” You respond, taking baby steps as you back out. Toji sighs, looking back at Mayu.

“Leave.” He mouths to her, and he watches as the woman gets upset. Toji doesn’t have the energy to deal with her, instead, he walks over to you. His hand goes to your shoulder and he turns you around.

“Are you decent?” You question, and Toji almost smirks. You can really crack him up even when it’s not your intention.

“I’m walking you back to your room, am I not?” Toji answers, and he watches you uncover your face. It’s clear that you’re embarrassed about the situation you found him in. He ends up chuckling before saying, “I guess you can say that I’m one of the peasants you described earlier.”

“What do you– Oh! No. No no. You like that girl and–” Your brain is unable to find the right words. It’s as if the system is overheated after finding your knight in that situation. “You know I just say things to tease you.”

“I don’t really like her.” He confesses, and you raise your brow. You don’t respond to that, you’re not sure how to.

He clears his throat, “What did you need help with?”

“I needed help with something and I didn’t want to ask Hanako.” You answer, and he shakes his head disapprovingly.

“So you chose to bother me instead?” He’s mostly teasing, but you can’t look him in the eye. “You know, that still doesn’t answer my question. What could I do that your night guard can’t?”

“Nothing. It’s trifling.” You reply. You’re nearing the room, and you both notice how your night guard is missing. He’s most definitely looking for you.

“Here you are, princess.” Toji opens the door to your room. He has to make sure that you enter your room safe and sound, and that you don’t try to escape– Oh, what a headache that would be. 

Your gaze falls on his massive arm, one that is usually covered by the long sleeves of his uniform. Right now he wears a simple white undershirt, one that gives you the view of the many scars on his arms. Scars that he’s gotten throughout the years of many battles. You know better than anyone that Toji has been through a lot, otherwise he wouldn’t have the position as your knight. 

You don’t know why you keep staring at it, or why you like it. Your face begins to get warm, and you almost have to pinch yourself to get out of the trance that you suddenly have found yourself in.

“Goodnight, princess.” Toji tells you, knocking you back into reality. You step into the room, muttering a barely audible goodnight. Your hand goes to the door knob, and just as you’re about to shut the door in his face, he asks you, “Are you sure you don’t need any help with anything? What you needed sounded urgent.”

“I’m fine.” You nod as you begin to shut the door in his face. But you stop yourself when there’s a crack in the door. What’s the worst that can happen?

“Is everything–” Toji begins when you open the door wide once again. Nothing can possibly prepare him for the question that leaves your lips. The help that you needed just a few minutes ago– It wasn’t just anything that anyone could fulfill.

There’s a reason you sought him.

“Toji, will you have sex with me?” 

[rynbutt]

pierced. | spencer reid.

Moving into a new apartment in a new city is stressful, what's even more stressful is when there's a fucking murder in the apartment across from yours... at least the fbi agent is cute.

you can find the other parts on my masterlist.

cw: fem!reader, 18+ piercing, fluffyish, reader has pierced tiddies, flirting, wondering if i should do a part 2 fr

a/n: coming from a pierced nipple girly who wants a cute boy to knock on her door. also enjoy <3 and follow >:) also yay for the first thing i've posted :3

You let out an exasperated sigh as you collapsed another cardboard box.

Moving into a new apartment was fun in theory, but the practice of filtering through everything you own and finding a neat little spot for it? not so much. You took a long sip from your now cold cup of coffee before glancing across the room at the looming pile of cardboard boxes that just stood there and mocked you.

You picked up the next box of what was probably clothes and took a box cutter to the almost twenty layers of tape across the seam (it wouldn't stay closed, in retrospect you should have made up another box but you were really determined to make it fit at the time).

You ripped the rest of the tape off and put your hands on your hips, glancing at your cat Tofu on the couch.

"Care to help?" you asked... the cat. Tofu proceeded to curl into herself and begin grooming tubby belly. "I guess not."

There was an abrupt knock on your apartment door, Tofu scattering to the wind at the sudden sound. You furrowed your brows, confused as to why anyone would be knocking on your door.

You had moved here a matter of days ago, knew no one and were far too broke for doordash. You ignored it for a moment, thinking whoever resided on the other side of the door had the wrong apartment. When the knock came again, you thought you'd better answer this time.

You opened the door ajar, just in case it was someone who wanted to steal any of the maybe four things you'd managed to unpack. A tall darker skinned man looked down at you, "Yes?"

"Hi ma'am, I'm Agent Morgan and this is Dr. Reid, we're with the FBI," he introduced himself, holding up his credentials for you to peek at. You opened the door the rest of the way, glancing at the second tall man standing in your door way. He had messy hair just below his ears and was wearing a collared shirt with two black pens tucked into the pocket over his chest, he was cute. He pulled his lips into a tight line and held his hand up in a wave.

Spencer's eyes glanced down your body briefly. He has certainly seen some strange outfits when people answer their doors but none that made his skin run hot like this.

You wore a baby blue tank top and grey adidas shorts, he could see a small sliver of skin between your two garments but that's not what caught his eye. You had your nipples pierced.

Now, Spencer really didn't mean to stare but they were right there. The air of your apartment was clearly chilly given how your nipples pressed against the fabric. He could see the little studs on either side of your hardened nipples and he felt like a Victorian boy seeing an ankle for the first time.

"Oh no, you found me," you joked, laughing at yourself lightly. They didn't laugh. Your smile dropped, "I'm joking. Uh, come in, please." You stood aside, letting the two men into your basically bare apartment.

"Just move in?" Morgan asked, looking around your small living room.

"Uh, yeah, yeah. I'm starting a new job in a week," You replied, trying to make small talk. "What exactly are you here for?"

"There was a murder in the apartment across from yours," Dr. Reid said abruptly, stealing the air from your lungs.

Your eyes were blown wide, "What?"

"Young woman like you, stabbed to death-"

"Reid," Morgan warned, shaking his head softly at the younger man.

"Shit, that sucks," you replied, glancing between the two men. "I assume you're talking to me because I live close by, huh?"

"It's just procedure," Morgan replied. "Can you tell me where you were around 11pm last night?"

"Uh, yeah. I was here, I had a lot to unpack, you know?" You replied honestly, wondering how you didn't hear that someone was being murdered across the hall.

"And you didn't hear anything?" Morgan asked, eyebrows furrowed as he stood to face you.

"No, no I honestly didn't. I had my headphones on while I was unpacking, I went to bed around midnight." Were you incriminating yourself? Maybe you should make some friends so you don't get caught up in this kind of stuff.

"The UnSub we're looking for is white male, mid 20s to 30s, seems out of place. Have you seen anyone like that around?" Dr. Reid asked.

"No, I mean, I just moved here, I don't know anyone. I haven't left my apartment since I got here," you replied, looking Dr. Reid in the eye. You caught him glancing down at your boobs for a moment before he caught himself, clearing his throat.

It was only then that you realised what you were wearing. Fuck. Two FBI agents, one of whom was your type to a T came to question you about a murder and your nipples were gazing upon the world like a deer in headlights.

You quickly crossed your arms across your chest before scampering across the room to grab your hoodie off your couch. You pulled it over your head before staring at the two men awkwardly, your skin feeling hot.

"I'm sorry about... my attire, I didn't even-"

Morgan smiled, chucking softly, "Please, this is your home, sweetheart." Morgan glanced at Spencer, who suddenly found the ceiling utterly fascinating. "You mind if I have a look around? We suspect he used the fire escape."

"Of course, yeah. You can see it from the bedroom," you replied, being left alone with the cute doctor. "You seem young to be a doctor," you said softly, trying to make small talk.

"Scarring, tearing and nerve damage is possible when you get your," he coughed, "nipples pierced... infections and bleeding are also common," he quickly said, lips pulled into a tight line.

"Mm, cute and smart... well, I've had them for five years so... I think I'm safe, Dr. Reid," you replied with a chuckle.

"Spencer," he muttered.

"Huh?"

"Spencer, it's my name. Spencer Reid," he said, hands clutched tightly around the strap of his leather satchel.

"Spencer," you smiled, "I'm Y/N."

"Well, we better get out of your hair," Morgan returned from your room, glancing between you and Spencer for a moment. "Let's go, Reid."

You opened the door for them, Morgan thanked you as he left and started down the hall to the elevator. Spencer paused for a moment, glancing at you for briefly before walking out the door.

"Hey," you called softly. Spencer spun around to look at you and you definitely couldn't let him escape without your number. "Do you have a girlfriend?"

"Uh, girlfriend? I, uhm-"

"He doesn't!" Morgan called from down the hall, making you smile.

"You don't know that!" Spencer retorted, making a face at Morgan who was grinning.

"So... you do?" You asked.

"...No, I don't." He muttered.

"Okay, well," you laughed, plucking the pen from the pocket of Spencer's shirt. "Call me sometime," you scribbled your name and number with a little heart onto a scrap piece of paper that once wrapped your toaster.

"Yes... Okay, I will," he replied nervously, holding your number in his hands gently. He glanced at it, a smile beaming across his handsome face.

"You, uh, might wanna go before your partner loses it," you giggled after a beat. Spencer muttered a quick 'oh' before walking quickly toward the elevators.

"Bye," Spencer said softly, waving at you with a little smile.

"Bye, Dr. Reid!"

Spencer stepped into the elevator with Morgan, the silence palpable in the tiny mental container.

"'Bye, Dr. Reid~'," Morgan raised his voice an octave, planning to tease Spencer relentlessly and text the group chat as soon as they got to the car.

"Shut up!"

reblog and follow me :3 also come chat, i love to yap.

dividers by @cafekitsune

[lotties-ashwagandha]

AGATHA & RIO NSFW ALPHABET

(afab reader, female implied, poly relationship/throuple with them and reader, im disregarding that we can’t kiss rio without dying)

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

after sex they would both be so soft! depending on the mood both of them can be into pretty rough sex and in general i think sex is very intense for them not just physically but mentally as well, so afterwards they become quite gentle and sentimentally inclined. they're both quick to check on and cater to each other's and your needs, and expect that out of you as well. the time all of you spend together once you're all exhausted and grounded in each other becomes an act of quality time and showing affection through caring for each other. i feel you could get into some deeper discussions with them as well, which you might not usually have the time or focus for otherwise.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

rio loves agatha's neck and shoulders. she likes to run her knife down her neck and her hands are always finding agatha's shoulders to clutch when she's riding her thigh. OH and we know rio loves playing with agatha's hair as well, not in a sexual context but just in general.

agatha loves rio's. she. she loves her boobs man idk someone get this woman the biggest prode flag you've ever seen and scribble down BOOBS on it in sharpie. or whatever.

their favorite thing about you would be your legs, your arms your back your everything. they want every part of you.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

rio loves to make you taste yourself after she's finished eating you out. it's validation for her, a trophy and a way of rubbing in the fact that she just made you finish with her tongue.

agatha loves to see your face covered in her cum after riding your face. she wants to make a mess of you, claim you as hers in the way your chin glistens with her cum.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

on the witches road, they MAY have considered each fucking you during a trial and seeing who could make you come the fastest, obviously very funny time limit bc if you don’t complete the trial then u die I mean what who said that!

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

they’re both experienced, you’d get good at eating pussy after being around for centuries I would hope.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

when you’re trying to eat one of them out while the other is fucking you with her strap!!! agatha particularly loves making you and rio take her strap, and if you’re in a rough mood degradation kink mood then she loves to bully you, tease you, shame you for being so needy for her and desperate for her to fuck you. she likes to watch you ride it, but really she just wants to lay you down and make you come hard.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

they have to have some level of seriousness to actually like. get off. and with them like I mentioned before sometimes they will get really into the emotionally intimate and romantic aspect of sex, but with them nothing can stay serious for too long so there will be a bit of humor, a few mean jokes, anything to break the tension. if you don’t want that they’ll try to dial it back, but if you do then even better.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

with rio being death and agatha being a witch i dont think either of them have the most time to be meticulously shaving or waxing or whatever hair removal they would prefer. agatha would care more than rio, and i think they would both try to keep up with it to some extent, but time gets in the way. as for you they don't mind whatever you prefer to do (shaving, waxing, not doing anything in the way of hair removal) with yourself as long as you are comfortable.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

sex with rio and agatha can either be sex just to fuck or sex to be romantic. it depends on the mood, it depends on what has turned them on, it depends on the day. but sex for them can be a form of intimacy — neither of them are the best at expressing their feelings with words, and while sex should not take the place of verbal communication, it definitely helps.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

I can’t see them masturbating as much in a relationship, they’d both just prefer to fuck, but in general I think agatha would masturbate more often than rio?

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

do I even have to say knife kink??? knife kink. we all know knife kink. maybe even splurge a little and say blood kink.

bondage!!! they would be really into tying you up (and making a competition out of you somehow, a power struggle), and I can also see rio being so proud of herself if she got agatha to agree to let rio tie her up.

praise and degradation! of course. they’ll pick different sides, one night rio will be praising you and agatha degrading and then the next time it will switch. they crave both, and they want the element of surprise for you when you don’t know what you’re going to get from either of them.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

ideally at home in the bedroom but tbh you’ve all probably fucked everywhere including the witches road.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

if you’re a witch, they would get turned on by watching you do whatever magic you specialize in — they like seeing you with power, and they like taking it for themselves. they want to see that you’re powerful and then remind themselves that you belong to them.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

anything you say no to they’re throwing away the idea of, but in general they would be averse to sharing you with anyone else.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

rio would prefer giving, and agatha would prefer receiving. rio wants you and agatha coming on her tongue, wants to be what gives you those highs. agatha wants to completely let go of herself in your touch, forget the rest of the world exists for a little while because all that’s important is how pretty you look between her thighs.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

it depends!!! if it’s a more emotionally intimate and romance geared night they’re more slow and sensual, and otherwise it’s fast and rough.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

quickies anywhere and everywhere and whenever. as long as you’re in a place relatively safe from being discovered, the two of them are down for quickies. i can see them trying to test the limits of where they can and can’t fuck without being discovered too, so lots of being pulled into public restrooms or dragged off into the woods on the witches road or into an alley or whatever little places you can find.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

they will probably be down to experiment with whatever you bring up within reason, with both of them having been around for centuries they’ve seen it all, and it will take a lot to surprise them when it comes to testing things out.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

they can go for a relatively long time, rio can last longer than agatha but they go until they’re completely exhausted, there’s no such thing as casual sex for them unless you’re in public and it has to be a quickie somewhere.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

apart from vibrators and straps I can’t see them being incredibly into toys, they would much rather just go hands mouth all the essentials.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

an obscene amount it’s not even funny these women would tease you until you’re in tears and then would do it some more. it’s a game to them, like everything is.

I can see them reaaaally being into edging you and overstimulating you as a side note, rio wants to edge you and agatha wants to overstimulate.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

they’re both relatively vocal but not necessarily loud. agatha would be louder than rio, she loses every bit of composure when you’re fucking her and rio’s main goal specifically is to pull any moans, whines, anything she can get from agatha while fucking her. rio herself is a bit quieter, i can see her more prone to gasps and low moans — her tells would be more through body language, nails digging into your skin or her grip on you getting tighter.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

I’ve posted about this somewhere before but agatha with a mommy kink calling rio mommy. you agree.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

idk about agatha but I need to see rio in a black lingerie set. bah!

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

relatively high??? not super crazy but we all feel the level of longing for lesbian sex right.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

it depends, if it’s in the morning or afternoon they probably won’t. if it’s nighttime then not immediately, but not incredibly long after. in general they get some water take a shower make some food (bc i can see rio cooking up a three million course meal for the three of you after sex she gets hungry). they want to make sure you’re doing alright and just bask in the domestic bliss of aftercare before they give in to sleep.

[artdcnaldson]

daddy cat i have thoughts about newly divorced art and a girl who takes her time getting him hard :( and he feels so loved because he doesn’t have to focus on getting it done as fast as possible to please someone

exactlyyyy exactly mhmm

Thinking that he had a string of failed hookups out at bars where he was trying to fuck in bathrooms or in his car and it just didn't happen because he wanted it but his body wasn't cooperating. He was on the wrong side of drunk or the nerves and pressure was too high, and he ended up getting laughed off by the pretty girl beneath him.

So I think he gets away from hookups he finds in a bar or club for a while. Maybe he meets you at a wedding— one of his young cousins is finally tying the knot, and you're a friend of the bride. Sweet, friendly, gorgeous. He probably looks like a creep, the way he stares at you because he's too nervous to actually say something.

Which is stupid. He won seven slams in his career. He's a tennis superstar, a household name. He bumps into you at the dessert table after they've cut and served the wedding cake— the layer he gets is white cake with raspberry filling. You get a slice of the groom's cake— chocolate with espresso cream.

"Hey... you're Art Donaldson, right?" You ask as you take a tiny bite of the cake. When he nods, you smile. "I thought so, but Kayla— that's my friend from high school— well, she swore you were just some guy. So I googled you, and I was like, no that's definitely him. Anyways, do you want a drink?"

You both have a glass of the bride's signature cocktail (vodka cran), then another, before you're on the dance floor together. It starts off innocent enough, but then there's more drinks flowing, and guests start leaving, and the music gets weirdly better as the night goes on. You're both a little handsy and it's not long before you're stumbling back to his Jeep in the parking lot.

It was a post-divorce impulse buy. An impulse buy with a nice, roomy back seat. Plenty of space to tug you onto his lap, pull down your dress, and mouth at your tits in the backseat.

You reach down, palming him through his fancy suit pants. You pause, blinking a few times, and work the buttons of his pants so you can actually take him into your hands. You try to coax him to full hardness, but he's already flagging. He groans in frustration as his body just won't. fucking. cooperate. He wants you, he knows he wants you, he's just... fuck.

"Sorry," he pants, meeting your gaze with a look that can only be read as sheer mortification. "Shit, it's just... this is... sorry—"

"It's okay," you whisper against his mouth, so his stammered apologies are silenced. You spit into your palm and wrap your hand around his cock again, holding eye contact as you slowly stroke him. "Just relax. We have all night."

You mouth at his throat, his jaw. You trail your lips over the shell of his ear and he melts. He's like putty in your hands as you give him all of your attention— give him the chance to relax and work his way up to it. He moans against your ear and you smile. "That's it," you praise, working your hand faster. "I've got you."

[pathologicalreid]

in sickness and in health | S.R.

Minutes before your wedding is supposed to start, Spencer gets cold feet, and you have to find out why.

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: fluff (a smidge angsty) content warnings: alzheimers, weddings, children, babies, sad!spencer, reader wears a dress and makeup, cursing word count: 1.8k a/n: so this became sadder than I had initially intended. also i decided to try something new and write in a different POV and i don't know if i like it. this is my entry for @imagining-in-the-margins' new beginnings challenge, because nothing says new beginning quite like getting married! thank you for having this challenge!

If it were up to you and Spencer, your wedding would’ve taken place at a courthouse with no fuss, just rings and a certificate. Especially after he shot down your idea of a 24-hour wedding chapel in Las Vegas.

In your defense, you pitched it to him as an intimate wedding in his hometown, but he didn’t take the bait.

But when the team found out that the two of you were planning what they deemed unsuitable, they all volunteered to help throw together a ceremony and reception. Everyone was under the duress of Penelope at the time, but they all volunteered.

She could be very formidable when she wanted to.

Your now maid of honor’s eyes were shimmering as she carefully adjusted some of the last few strands of hair upon your head, you had managed to talk her out of a tiara, but to Penelope Garcia, a veil was non-negotiable. “You look gorgeous,” she says, “the perfect bride.”

Laughing uncomfortably, you turn to look at yourself in the full-length mirror and take a deep breath, “Thank you, Pen.”

“I know I may have slightly nudged you in the direction of a bigger wedding-“

“More like punted,” you interrupt, an affectionate smile on your face.

Rolling her eyes, she leaned over to grab her buzzing phone on the velvet chair in your ready room. “Whatever, I just think that after everything you and Spencer have made it out of, you deserve a celebration that reflected that,” she speaks passionately, as she always does when discussing people in love.

Turning around to look back at the mirror, the tulle of your veil cascading over your shoulders as you grew giddy. Your dress was a whimsical, white chiffon that fell to the floor and moved with you as you walked. Small straps of fabric were delicately draped over your arms for an off-the-shoulder effect, you had never felt more glamorous. Although, if there was a day for glamor, your wedding day would certainly qualify.

You snap your head around to see Penelope furiously typing on her phone, “Uh oh,” she whispers, looking at the screen.

Humming, you step off of the pedestal and over to her, careful not to trip on your dress, “What’s wrong?” You murmur, trying to see what was distressing her. Dread built in your stomach; the team couldn’t be getting called away? Two of its members were about to get married. This is why you should’ve just gone to the courthouse; you never should’ve let Garcia talk you into this.

Jolting you out of your panic induced stupor, she answers, “Something’s up with Reid.”

Your heart clenches, “Reid? My Reid?” You whisper, “Is he okay?”

The two of you jump when someone bangs on the door, and she moves to open it, just a crack at first – to see who it is – and then all the way open to reveal Luke on the other side. Naturally, the members of the BAU made up your wedding party, and Luke as the best man was the easy choice.

He was mostly dressed, save for the bowtie that remained undone around his neck, “I need to steal Y/N.” His shoulders were rising and falling quickly like he had run across the building.

“She’s getting ready for the wedding. Her wedding,” Penelope answers, gesturing back to you. “Besides, it’s bad luck for the groom to see the bride before the wedding.”

Really, you were mostly ready, you just needed to put your shoes on and line up. “There won’t be a wedding if we can’t get the groom out there,” Luke replies.

You warily approach the doorway, peeking around the door, “What’s wrong?”

“He just needs you,” Luke explains, gesturing toward you with his hands.

Nodding determinedly, you step out the door and run over to the other side of the building to where the groom’s ready room is, pulling the fabric of your dress up so that you don’t trip. Along the way, you pass a few guests, but you don’t stop.

It wasn’t news to most of them that you were a grounding force for Spencer, the two of you had been put through, as Luke put it, the wringer together and still managed to come out the other side. You skid to a halt in front of the door and knock quickly, “Spence, it’s me.”

“It’s bad luck to see the bride before the ceremony,” he murmurs through the door, echoing the earlier sentiments of Penelope. You know he doesn’t believe in it, which only adds to your concern.

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes, fidgeting with the doorknob just to discover it’s locked. “If you don’t unlock the door, I’m going to go find Derek and have him kick it down for me,” you threaten, wondering if the reminder of all of the people here would coax him out.

There was no response from the other side of the door.

Sighing, you turn to look at Luke, “Can you give us a minute?” He nods, letting you know he’ll talk to Garcia before walking down the long hallway.

Once he’s gone, you hear the tell-tale click of the door unlocking, “Garcia will kill you if you walk in here.”

“Penny isn’t here, baby. It’s just you and me, okay?” You speak lowly, “What’s wrong, my love?” Dropping your hand on the doorknob, you startle slightly when it turns and the door swings open.

You yelp when Spencer pulls you in, closing the door behind you before he wraps his arms tightly around your waist. Immediately, you feel his body relax against yours, “Isn’t this supposed to be bad luck?” He murmurs.

Humming, you return his hug gratefully, “We’ve had enough bad luck, don’t you think? It’ll be okay.” His arms loosen around you, and you pull away slightly so you can look up at him, placing your hands tenderly on his chest, thumbing the satin fabric of his lapels. “And besides, I’m not fully dressed yet. I’m fairly certain that means it doesn’t count.”

“You look beautiful,” he whispers, holding you out at arm’s length. “You’re perfect, and I’m…” His voice trails off as he takes a step back from you, sighing as he takes a seat in one of the white chairs in the ready room.

Tilting your head to the side, you felt the fabric of your veil flow to the side, “You’re what, Spence?” You ask, slowly approaching the chair he was sitting in.

He furrows his brows in apprehension, “I think I might be scared of you,” he answers candidly.

You couldn’t help the giggle that spurted from your lips, “Am I really that scary?” You inquire softly, seeking more answers from him. You saw him better now, the darkness of his tux offset by the purple bowtie and handkerchief, joined with the light florals of his boutonnière. Spencer’s hair was a mess, a tell-tale sign that he had been running his hands through it.

Clearing his throat, Spencer looks up at you with a look in his eye that you can’t quite place, “I passed by your room earlier, and I heard you laughing.” He took a deep, tentative breath, “I thought you sounded so happy, and now I’m not sure I can keep you happy.”

Sighing, you duck your head slightly, “Spencer,” you say seriously, “are we still getting married today?”

“What?” He says in disbelief. “Of course we are, that’s not- I’m sorry,” he murmurs, shaking his head. “We’re still getting married; I’ve quite literally never wanted anything more in my entire life. I’m just worried,” he speaks quietly.

Gingerly, you step closer to the chair before he reaches out for you, placing a hand on your waist and gently guiding you down until you are sitting on his lap. “You make me so happy, Spencer Reid. I know that somewhere in that gorgeous brain of yours you know that, but I also know that you are your own worst critic.”

You’re sitting sideways on his lap with your legs latticed on top of each other. Gingerly, he places a hand on your thigh and another on the small of your back, “You deserve everything you want in the world.”

“And I want you. Doesn’t that count for something?” You ask him, emotion beginning to rise in your throat – you cannot cry, then the wedding would really be delayed. “Spencer, I’m so ecstatic that at the end of today, I get to be your wife. That’s such a privilege to me. You and I, we get to be so fucking happy today. We deserve that.” You tell him gently, “We get to be married and go on our honeymoon and come home and we can tell all of your stories to your mom, and we’ll have a baby or two and we’ll be so fucking happy.” You swallow your emotion, looking up at the light in the hope that it will clear your tears. “For the rest of our lives, we’ll be so happy.”

Then it came, “I don’t want to forget you.” His voice is almost imperceptible, but you hear him still.

The ache in his voice feels like a stab to your heart, you were well aware that his mother had Alzheimer’s. She wasn’t having a good day today, but the two of you had gone to visit her in the morning. Ever since she was diagnosed, it’s been like Spencer has a storm cloud hovering over him – he can’t be tested for the gene markers, not for a few more years. Taking a deep breath, you reach over and smooth his hair back, “If you get Alzheimer’s, I will sit down with you every day and remind you. I’m going to walk down that aisle today and tell you that I’m going to love you in sickness and in health and I’m going to mean it.”

“I’m scared,” he murmurs, leaning into your touch.

Using your free hand, you reach up and tenderly wipe a tear from his cheek, “We can take it.”

He nods in agreement with you, “Together, as a team,” he concurs, a slight amount of confidence returning to his voice.

Resting your head on his shoulder, the two of you take your moment. The last moment before you officially unite as one, and you let that moment take as long as you need. “I should go,” you whisper, looking over at the clock, the ceremony was supposed to have started by now.

Spencer leans down and kisses you, “I’ll see you out there?” He asks expectantly.

Nodding assuredly, you reach up and wipe a smudge of lipstick from his mouth, “I’ll be there.”

During the ceremony, you impressively were able to keep yourself together, until you promised him you would love him in sickness and in health.

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[peoplesgraves]

Imagine being a Royal who can’t escape obsession

Yandere Knight who’s been trained for the honor of protecting the royals their entire life. Who’s had any semblance of self beaten out of them instead being filled with nothing but reverence for their favorite. At first their obsession is devoid of romance, solely based on their divine duty to protect you. They’re happy just to stay by your side and content with forgoing their own life in favor of yours. That would all change the moment they actually get hurt protecting you. They expect to be broken just like when they were a kid, destroyed and remade stronger, better for you. Instead you are gentle and kind, you help nurse their wounds and their obsession transitions from one of duty to one of love. No longer content to die for you, now they must live for you, their beloved royal. No matter how many people they have to cut down your knight will never forsake their love.

Yandere Advisor a few years older than you but much much younger than your other advisors. They were a prodigy, groomed from a simple stable hand to the person they were today. Their incredible intelligence, tactical mind and people skills make them invaluable to the kingdom but they find themself laying awake night after night. Not worrying for the people but for you instead. They care not for the opinion of other royals or their peers but only of yours. They view everyone as below them, sure their friendly and compassionate on the surface but below the skin lies a bubbling darkness. Every meeting with you that’s interrupted by some silly problem or royal ball they’re forced to miss due to work, they find their facade cracking. They contemplate abandoning the wretched kingdom you loved, whisking you far far away so they can finally have what they love. For now though they’ll wear their cracked mask and guide you as gently as they can, both in your role as a royal and towards your devoted advisor.

Your families resident Yandere Wizard is a strange creature. Equally out of their mind as they are terrifyingly cunning. They slip between the two states so easily that it’s not quite clear which is their true self, maybe they’re both just hiding what truly lurks below their calculating eyes and outrageous outfits. Despite being perfectly capable of turning whatever enemy crossed their path into nothing more than a pile of dust, they prefer to use their magic in more…joyful ways. Turning your dress into whatever color you fancied at the moment or making flowers appears out of thin air whenever you seemed down. Some may call it a waste of their gift but they knew the truth, knew that nothing was a waste if it was done for love. They turn their tower into an inviting place for you and makes sure you know you’re always welcome, that they’ll always have time for their royal. They contemplate keeping you up in their tower forever and using their magic to bring you bliss until the end of days. They would give you whatever you wanted because all they wanted was you.

A Yandere Witch who’d started as a simple forest witch. Content to live in her small cabin among the trees and animals, only ever going into the royal city when they needed supplies or to sell off potions at the marketplace. Sometimes people would come to them for help with their maladies or to try and observe their strange skills for themselves and usually they’d abide before sending them on their way and going back to their solitude. Lately though their solitude wasn’t the great comfort it had once been. Something was missing or rather someone. They found themself going into the royal city more and more, not just flitting in and out of the market place but becoming a frequent fixture. So frequent in fact that under cover of night and a cloak you’d come to seek them, hearing of their skills on one of your visits to greet the subjects. They indulged you, allowing you to watch their work until the sun starts to peak through the horizon and to their joy you keep coming back whenever you can. They becomes so fond of your company that they consider getting rid of that pesky wizard of yours and offering themself for the royal court instead.

A Yandere Maid and your closest confidant, a fact they very much likes to rub in to anyone who will listen. They’d been raised for this since birth, the knight was raised to protect you sure but they were raised to serve. To handle every tedious, boring or undesirable aspect of your life so you’d never be anything less than content. It was a job they took very seriously, keeping detailed lists of what you liked and didn’t like, paying the shadiest people to vet any new people you came into contact with before you ever met them and of course helping in more normal ways too. Because you trust them so implicitly it’s startlingly easy to get rid of any favors of affection from anyone else, after all you didn’t need anyone else. Only they could take care of you the way you needed, it was their purpose, you were their purpose.

The Yandere Jester is perhaps the least assuming of yanderes. Always joking and smiling and laughing and prodding oh so subtly. Telling you stories of when they were sent to the gallows and their escape even fantastical tales of robbed royals, mysterious murders and other various crimes and misfortunes. Ultimately these were assumed to be humorous fibs from a misguided jester but still some nobles would whisper theories while looking at the jester fearfully, saying they were an escaped madman or perhaps a demon in human form. Truthfully no one but you seemed to like them much, always acting as if they were a rabid bloodthirsty beast and they were, to anyone else at least. To you they were a lapdog, hungry only for your laughter and joy. Eventually their stories get to be less about the past and more about the future, talks of how funny it’d be to steal away their beloved and leave all these silly nobles heads spinning. They don’t sound quite as funny telling that one, but still you smile politely and they love you even more for it.

Yandere Suitors sent from other kingdoms, mostly weaker ones seeking to form an alliance but also a few from stronger kingdoms, even empires who simply had a spare and figured it couldn’t hurt or needed agreements on something specific from your kingdom such as a rare resource. Eventually as more and more suitors came and then refused to return home even after rejection, they ended up as more of an unwanted harem situation. Constantly making and breaking alliances with each other to try and gain favor, flitting around the palace ordering servants around to make sure everything perfect all the time for you. Each trying to be seen as the best spouse for you, dreaming of the day you pick them and send the rest home, in pieces if required. Always whispering gossip in your ear, offering to warm your bed or accompany you out of the palace. Theyd do anything to be your favorite, just one step closer.

Throngs of adoring, Yandere Royal Subjects, even people from the far away villages and outer edge territories make their way to the royal city when you make a grand appearance in town. Cheering and waving colorful flags made from scrap, some huddled in groups giving blessings for your safety and health hoping they’d be extra effective with you so close. Parents hold up their kids as high up as they can hoping you’d bless them through the carriage window as they’d seen you do before. People insist on giving gifts and offering, although not to you directly once the royal entourage passes many march to the castles gates and leave them there, in place for your return. While many have negative views on other royals or monarchy in general, none ever seem to extend to you, their beloved royal. Any citizen led attacks or rebellions to the crown always seem to happen when you’re away and never touch your preferred parts of the castle or castle grounds, the very worst that’d ever happened to you was when a small outlier group raided your room and stole a few things. Those same outliers were later found bled out in the middle of town,in the middle of the day, with absolutely no witnesses. Everyone in town knows what happened of course, justice was served.

Yandere Assassin who was the best, never once caught or suspected for the hundred deaths they’d directly caused, so disconnected from themself and from the world that every new identity and culture they found themself ingratiated in felt just as much like home as anywhere else, nothing felt real or right so what did it matter who they were or who they killed. Not until they were assigned to your kingdom, to your family, did they finally start to understand what it meant to be alive and just how precious life was. Years of blood on their hands hadn’t taught them to live but a week with you and their heart was beating for the first time. They mostly watched from the sidelines, acting as just another servant. They watched how the other royals misuse their power to mistreat the people, each other and most egregiously, you. They watch as the others ignore and placate you, watches as they lie and cheat and subjugate the masses and they’re disgusted. It’s amazingly easy to poison their wine, everyone who could possibly be a threat to your ascension. They know you’ll be upset for a while at the loss of your ‘family’ but they promise to be there for you and now that they’ve taken a permanent position in the castle they’ll have all the time in the world to look out for you.

A local Yandere Dragon who kidnaps you every few weeks or so. Of course the first time you’d been terrified, a huge thundering monster snatches you from your visit to the courtyard and just flies off, with you in its talons. Though once back at their surprisingly not horrible cave, you come to understand them a bit. At least more than any other human had ever bothered to. Some knights from your kingdom had stolen from their horde and they wanted whatever it was back, sure being kidnapped wasn’t great but at least they were negotiating instead of just destroying the place in revenge. They are gruff and unpracticed but ultimately harmless to you and after a guarantee of their stolen treasures return you too are returned home. Though every few weeks the dragon seems to have some new grievance that requires the beloved royal as collateral and in that time they grow to be more and more comfortable around you, their little human. Should your kingdom ever wise up to their trick and try to fight against the dragon for you it wouldn’t be pretty. Last time someone stole from their horde they negotiated, that time, they’d burn the kingdom to the ground and take what was theirs, permanently.