#oc: dove bright | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

thanksbutno98 · 3 months ago

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Stressed Out

Simon Riley x wife!reader OC

Summary: Simon and his wife try for a fourth child.

Warnings: NSFW, smut, p in v, dirty talk, rough sex, masturbation, talks of pregnancy, mentions of infertility, not edited.

——————

“Stop fidgeting.”

“Shh.” You shushed Simon aggressively.

“Dove-“

“I said shh.” You shushed your husband again.

The two of you were sitting in a stuffy doctor’s office. Simon sat in a chair next to yours and the only reason he knew you were fighting was because the leather whined every time you moved. You felt incredibly uncomfortable being here and you regretted going this medical route.

You see, you and Simon had been trying to get pregnant for eight months now and had no success. It left you worried you weren’t able to have any more children. Simon being the lovable oaf you saw him as, kept telling you nothing was wrong. That sometimes it takes longer than expected and you stressing about it wouldn’t help. You had already had a blood test last month that showed your hormone levels were normal, now you wanted to know next steps.

When you brought up the idea of getting tested further to make sure everything was working properly the doctor recommended Simon leave a sample before you went that route. The number of crass comments that were made had the doctor turning a shade of red you didn’t think humanly possible. When Simon went to leave the sample you had gotten a barrage of text messages telling you how awful the porn they had was. It devolved into you taking a picture of your breasts in the women’s washroom. He was done before you had even made it back to the waiting room.

Now the pair of you were sat here, a week later, waiting for the results. Simon complained the entire ride here that they could have told you two over the phone. He was right. This had you nervous because in your mind the fact you had to come in person meant one of you was the problem as to why you weren’t getting pregnant. So either they needed to run more tests on you or Simons sperm count was low.

“Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Riley. Sorry to keep you waiting.” The same doctor from last time came into his office with a friendly smile.

He was a short man and built like a runner. His hair was grey but he didn’t appear to be that much older than you. He wore a bright white lab coat and had his hospital ID hooked to the pocket.

“Alright, get on with it.” Simon sounded bored out of his mind. He could be so immature in settings like this, it made you want to throttle him.

“You’re both perfectly healthy. In fact, he’s extremely fertile.” The doctor smiled at you and pointed to Simon. Simon immediately started flexing his biceps like Johnny always did when he bragged about his latest escapade.

“Wait, then why aren’t I getting pregnant?” You blurted out and swatted Simon to put his arms down.

“I believe you’ve just been unlucky. That’s why I had you come in. I wanted to make sure you’re having intercourse effectively. We don’t tend to worry until it’s been a year of trying.” The doctor started shuffling things around his desk and you felt Simon gearing up to be a smart ass.

“Oh, it’s affective.” The crass joke had you and the doctor looking at Simon unimpressed.

“I’ll need to know how often you two are having sex, if it’s during the time you’re ovulating, and if you know how to track your ovulation. Penetrative vaginal sex is the most affective way to get pregnant. I assume that what’s happening. I did-“

“We have sex as often as she lets me. . . Which is often and she has me finish in-” Simon was grinning like a fool. Something about hearing that he was extremely fertile made his ego grown twice in size.

“Simon.” You hissed before he could finish his sentence.

You talked to him about acting like a normal human when coming here. You made him promise no crude comments and he was breaking his promise.

“Look at her. You really think I’m not pawing at her every chance I get?” This was not the time or place for your husband to start flirting but he didn’t care.

“Simon, behave!” You hissed again.

“Well, Mr. Riley.” The doctor seemed to be getting fed up with your husband.

“Stress can hinder a woman’s ability to get pregnant. So, maybe some self reflection is in order and you try to not upset your wife so much. Considering how worked up you’ve gotten her in my office both times now, it doesn’t seem far fetched you do this at home.”

——————

“Guys a fuckin’ quack.” Simon growled.

You were now chasing after him in the car park while he stormed to the car. Simon had some choice words after the doctor accused him of stressing you out. You apologized profusely for Simon’s behavior, picked up the chair he flipped, and then thanked the man. He wished you a sarcastic ‘good luck’ which you weren’t sure was meant for getting pregnant or being married to Simon Riley.

“Simon, you’re acting like an ass.” You told him but he didn’t seem to care.

He was standing at the car holding your door open and looking angrier than ever.

“Bastard accuses me of stressing you out? What a fucking joke!” Simon then let out a loud dry laugh that echoed through the parking garage.

“You do stress me out.” You told him flatly.

“No I don’t.” He rebutted.

You stared at him silently. A moment passed before Simon spoke again.

“Okay, maybe I do sometimes. But enough that it’s affecting you getting pregnant? What’s load of rubbish.” Another sarcastic laugh echoed against the concrete as Simon waited for you to agree with him.

You continued to stare at him blankly. His face dropped and he seemed to get your point now.

“Fine. I stress you out. Now get in the car.” Simon ordered and aggressively motioned with his hand for you to get in.

“Simon Riley!” You snapped at him.

“Okay, okay. I’ll work on it. I’m sorry.” Simon pretended to wave a white flag of surrender to hopefully get you to lighten up.

“Thank you.” You sighed in relief. Finally getting into the car Simon left a sweet, tender kiss to your cheek.

“Now, c’mon. I’ll fuck that sour mood out of you as soon as we’re home.” He joked.

“You better.”

——————

“Girls, settle down.” Simon was attempting to clear the kitchen table after dinner while his two younger daughters, six and four, ran around screaming.

“Mel, go get your homework done please.” Your oldest daughter who was twelve, nodded and made her way upstairs.

“GRACIE!” Fae screeched in excitement while pushing Simon out of her way to keep running circles around the table.

“FAE!” Grace screamed her name back from under the round kitchen table.

“ENOUGH YELLING!” Simon was now the third person to raise his voice.

“I’ll stop when you stop.” Fae immediately bit back at her father. She was now climbing on top of the table and doing a silly dance.

“Yeah! What Fae said!” Grace stomped her foot and pointed her finger to her big sister. She too was now climbing on to the table to dance a silly dance with her sister.

“Simon.” You warned before he shouted again.

“What?” He asked defensively.

“The yelling’s stressing me out.” You told him off handedly.

You had your mind preoccupied with the school paper work in front of you. There was an incident report sent home with Fae for fighting. It wasn’t anything physical but she had cursed a little boy out for pushing her friend to the ground. Apparently she called him a ‘brainless twat’ among other things.

“No more yelling you two.” Simon pointed at Fae then to Grace. They paused in funky positions, looked at each other, then continued to do their weird little dances.

“Not their yelling. Your yelling.” You spoke forcefully.

“We’ll stop when you stop.” Grace sang. She jumped onto one of the chairs then to the floor and ran over to her father to sweetly hug Simon’s leg.

“Alright.” Simon didn’t argue back and bit his tongue.

It was dawning on him that he was really stressing you out, even when he wasn’t acting out of the ordinary. Having served along side each other in the military, Simon knew you handled stress well. You weren’t one to lose your cool or really complain about being stressed. The past week or so you had been. It was unintentionally making Simon reflect on his behavior. To him he wasn’t doing anything he didn’t normally do but maybe things had been getting to you easier because you wanted to be pregnant by now.

Taking the dinner plates and putting them in the sink Simon continued to glance between you and the dishes. He started washing them by hand and couldn’t keep himself from looking at you every so often.

“Stop staring at me. It’s stressing me out.” You warned him without looking up from the papers in front of you.

“We need to find something that doesn’t stress you out.” Simon grumbled.

“You not being in the same room.” Mel quipped as she came into the kitchen, grabbed her book bag, and then went back upstairs.

“Don’t be a smart ass.” Simon called after her.

“I’ll stop when you stop.” Mel shot back.

Simon turned to say something to you but you already had your hand up to quiet him.

“You’re stressing me out.” This time you lied. You just didn’t want to hear him complain about everyone in the house giving him a hard time.

Simon sighed heavily and silently did the dishes. Every once in a while you’d hear a giggle as he playfully tried to shake Grace off his leg. Fae soon joined and little giggles would ring out every so often.

“Fae, why’d you call this boy in your class a-“ you paused to read the incident report again.

“A ‘fuckin’ fridge?’” Your voice elevated on fridge to show your confusion.

“Cuz uncle John called dad that once. So it had to be mean.” You could barely hear Fae as Simon broke out into uncontrollable laughter.

You had heard both Simon and John Price insult each other on many occasions. Only they replaced ‘fridge’ with any inanimate object that popped into their head. Your favorite was while deployed together, Simon mouthed off and Price called him a ‘fuckin’ turnip’ and then proceeded to throw equipment in Simon’s direction. It made you wonder if Price’s kids got in as much trouble as yours did. Or if they were out there calling classmates muppets, turnips, fuck wits, or any other insult they heard from their father.

After getting your children tucked into bed you went and took a shower. They had terrorized Simon to the point he had to sit on the top stair to calm himself down. Fae and Grace threw their stuffed animals at him and then playfully screamed and ran when he gave them a menacing look.

They had no intention of listening to him if he was reasonable, sweet, or shouting. Nothing would get them to behave for him and you could tell the moment you saw him trying to wrangle them both into bed. So you took over and sent him to decompress. Only the girls kept calling for him every few minutes. You heard him start his show over countless times and wondered when he would finally get fed up.

You were now trying to destress. It was hard for you to tell if Simon was the one stressing you out or if life was getting to you. Either way you needed to get yourself back in order.

Simon was usually a sarcastic ass, but he was your sarcastic ass. You loved his smart ass comments and how socially inept he could be at times. It’s what made him charming. Not to everyone, but you found him charming. He was your big, lovable, dickish husband and you wouldn’t want him any different.

After some reasoning you decided you had been tougher on Simon than you liked. Yes, he needed a swift kick in the ass every so often to behave. But today you were starting to think you were a little too harsh by telling him he was stressing you out. So, you checked your calendar to see if you really needed to get over what you thought was misplaced annoyance and seduce your husband.

“Simon!” You called from your bedroom.

The frustration was building for Simon. This felt like the twentieth time he’d been interrupted while trying to watch his show. He had just gotten comfortable on the couch with his beer and crisps. With an angry huff Simons large hand grabbed the remote to pause his show. That’s when he saw he was four minutes and twenty two second into the episode. Five minutes, he couldn’t go five minutes in this house without someone needing him.

“What!” Simon barked back. There was a few seconds of dead air when Simon heard the bottom two stairs creak.

“Well, I was going to tell you I’m ovulating but never mind.” Your once sweet voice was now coated in disdain.

Turning quickly to look over his shoulder, Simon saw you, his beautiful wife who was clearly pissed off with him. You were standing in the doorway of the living room looking annoyed.

“Coming!” Simon was up and scrambling around the couch.

“Not after that reaction!” You snapped back and went back upstairs. Simon stopped for a second, grabbed his beer and chugged the entire glass in under ten seconds.

“Dove, wait up.” Simon was taking the stairs two at a time and caught up to you in your bedroom.

You were ready to lay into him. Forget, forgiveness or admitting you’d been snippy today. Now you were convinced he was being an ass and he was responsible for why you felt so stressed out. Turning around, you had your finger ready to be shoved into your husband face and tell him just what you thought about him barking at you.

Only he shut you up fast.

Before you knew it Simons thumb was in your mouth and pressing your tongue down so you couldn’t speak. His fingers curled around your jaw and held your face firmly like that. He had a wicked grin and eyes darker than usual.

“Shush. I’ve stressed you out, let me make it right.” Simon purred.

Your eyes went wide staring up at this massive man you called yours. With little hesitation you shook your head, not sure how your husband had tamed you so quickly.

“Bend over the bed.” Simon ordered and you obeyed.

On your way there Simon helped remove your shirt, pajama bottoms and panties. This left you completely bare and now bent over your bed with your face resting against the soft navy sheets. You could feel the massive presence of Simon looming behind you but weren’t sure what his next move was.

You sighed out the breath you didn’t realize you were holding when you felt his warm, rough hands on your ass. His thumbs lightly pressed into the muscles and massaged them. Slowly his hands slid to your lower back and dug out the knots from there to your shoulders. Simon took his time giving you a thorough back massage with his clothed crotched pressed against your rear, until he was back at your ass and kneading the fatty flesh.

You couldn’t see him but you knew he had a smirk on his handsome face as he pulled apart your cheeks to get a look at your pretty cunt. Simons thumbs started to massage up and down the crease of your thighs and then to your pretty lips. It felt amazing and you had to be dripping from how good and relaxed your body felt.

“Hm, so pretty.” Simon hummed before flattening his tongue and licking a firm stripe up your cunt.

You gasped at the light contact and then gasped again at Simon’s tongue expertly finding your clit and rolling it under the muscle.

“Hmm.” Simon hummed into your cunt right before his tongue started to thrust in and out of your perfect little hole.

Simon didn’t spend long on his knees. Soon he was stripping out of his clothes and positioning himself behind you. He slid his massive length between your cheeks a few times and groaned at the contact.

“Ready, dove?” It was a question that needed no answer and Simon didn’t wait for one.

Pushing his hips forward slowly, your gummy walls wrapped around him tightly until his hips were flush with your ass. Grinding his hips forward you could feel the head of his cock nudging at your cervix. Taking Simon always felt like playing a dangerous game because of his massive size. Each and every time, those first few minutes were spent adjusting and fighting against the sensation of being split in half.

“Just relax. I’ll knock you up, don’t you worry that pretty little head of yours.” That thick accent you loved so much purred in your ear.

Placing his hands on either side of your head you stared at the tattoos on his arm. A sweet kiss was then laid on your temple as Simon began to roll his hips. It was measured, patient, calculated thrusts to warm you up. Breathing deeply your eyes fluttered shut and you enjoyed the sensation of going from slightly uncomfortable at the stretch to mesmerized by the way he slid in and out of you.

You were ready for Simon, his gentle pace meant you were soaking his cock. Carefully your wrapped your fingers around each of Simon’s wrists so you would have something to help ground you. It was a silent sign you were ready for him, you had been doing this since you were dating.

With a wicked smile Simon paused his thrusts for a moment and leaned down with his mouth by your ear.

“Hold on tight.” Simon’s voice was like honey in your ears and you gripped his wrists harder in anticipation.

The first thrust was hard but not has hard as he could go. It was Simon testing the waters. The thrust after that was almost all of his strength and you reacted positively by burying your face in the comforter and muffling your moan. Feeling you grip his wrists for dear life was the last positive sign Simon needed to start laying into you.

Thank god the fan was going and the tv was playing to muffle out the sound of skin clapping skin. Simon’s eyes locked on your plump bottom jiggling with each and every thrust of his. Your moans were muffled but he knew you would be screaming if the house were empty.

With every thrust the bed creaked and mattress molded into the shape of your body getting pounded into the soft sheets. It was perfect because when Simon pulled back the mattress sprang back up in his direction and then he slammed you back into it.

The way Simon felt was all consuming. This position allowed him to throw his full body weight into it but only for so long. The last time he went in this position for too long your back had hurt for the next two days.

“Simon.” You whined, feeling your back start to ache.

That was all your husband needed to hear and he was pulling out of you. Shaking your hands off his wrists you took this moment to catch your breath. Simon grabbed your thigh and pulled so you spun around and were now lying on your back. He had done it so quickly it whipped you around. His cock was now resting on your belly showing off how deep he could reach. Tapping it a few times impatiently Simon waited for you to catch up.

“Trying to give me whiplash?” You joked but the words fell off at the end when you felt the blunt tip of your husband’s cock push into you.

Simon was holding your hips firmly and sinking into your tight heat. A new position meant waiting for the green light for the go ahead. A bit frazzled from how good it felt your fingers fumbled to find Simon’s wrists but once you did and gave him a squeeze he set off with his first few trial thrusts and then was pounding away.

“Your tits are fuckin’ gorgeous.” Simon growled, his eyes locked on to the way they bounced with each cruel slam of his hips.

“Simon, I-fuck. Rub my clit, I’m close.” You moaned softly, using all your willpower not to scream from the pleasure.

“Do it yourself.” Simon brushed you off and continued to focus on your tits bouncing and the way you were hugging him so tight.

Without thinking you pushed up with one hand behind your back and now propping you up. With the other it clapped against the back of Simons thick neck and roughly pulled him so he was now leaning down, nose to nose with you. The pure rage in your fiery eyes and the way it stung from how forcefully you grabbed his neck almost made Simon cum on the spot.

“Make me cum.” You ordered, teeth bared and a pissed off expression taking over your once blissed out face.

“Fuck, you’re so hot.” Simon sounded so in love in that moment, like he was in some daydream like state.

One hand left your hip while he continued his thrusts and began to play with your pretty little clit. His thumb bumped against it a few time before he truly got the digit over the bundle of nerves. You fell back into the sheets, back arching and pleasure coursing through your veins.

“Faster.” You ordered and Simons hips moved quicker making you squeak in surprise.

“Not-not your hips you idiot! Your thumb!” You sounded so frustrated with him and Simon never understood why that was such a turn on.

Simon didn’t bother slowing down on his brutal thrust but did speed up the rate he was rubbing at your cute little clit. That seemed to do it for you. Tossing your head back your fingers gripped the sheets and you gasped inaudibly. Seeing you cum and then a second later feeling you choke his cock from the base to tip drove Simon wild.

Waves of pleasure rocked your body and Simon worked you through the best of it. That was until now, as you laid on the bed sensitive and worn out and he was still going.

“Simon.” You whined, his brutal thrusts becoming too much in your blissed out state.

“Almost there.” He grunted, eyes focused on your tits until he felt your finger under his chin and tiling his head up to look at you.

“Cum.” You spoke sweetly, giving him that same smile you did back when you married him.

You joked about whiplash earlier but Simon felt he was the one truly experiencing it with your emotional back and forth. Going from being pissed off at him to now sweet as pie. And it worked. Because after a long deep moan Simon was shooting white ropes into your sore cunt. He stayed like that for a moment, deep inside you and catching his breath.

“You’re perfect.” You whispered to your hulking lover who was dwarfing you from above.

“Bed, I’m exhausted.” Pulling out and flopping on to the bed Simon shut his eyes and caught his breath.

“Easiest way to get you to sleep.” You giggled at how making Simon cum was a sure fire way to put him to sleep.

Ignoring the mess you crawled under the sheets and so did Simon. Curling up against his chest he was snoring a few minutes later. You tried to get up and clean yourself before you made the sheets messy. Only, Simon, even in his sleep, would not let go and thus you were stuck to his side. You truly didn’t mind and decided sleep was better, you’d have him change the sheets in the morning.

——————

The feeling of soft sheets and cool air greeted you this morning as your eyes fluttered open. The first thing you saw was hazel. God, how that had become your favorites color. Hazel eyes, crooked teeth, and a faded scar that hooked around the chin of pale skin of a prominent jaw.

Simons eyes were soft, drowsy, and stuck on you. That soft smile of his reminded you how he use to watch you sleep all those years ago when you served together. Some said they were unsettling but nothing settled you like his reassuring gaze. It said ‘I’ve got you.’

With gentleness that was once unknown to a man like Simon he brushed your messy bed head from your beautiful face. He didn’t have to speak a word for you to know he wanted to say he loved you. It was hard for him to say, no matter how many years had passed, but that didn’t matter. You’d hear him whisper in to you in the night when he thought you were asleep or when you were wrangling your kids and he assumed you were too distracted to hear.

“Thanks for last night.” You smiled at Simon in the early morning light. He shook his head, acknowledging your sweet words.

“I love you.” You whispered.

It made your heart stutter to see the way his eyes softened even more and lashes fluttered at your words. The warm lazy smiled soon revealed a toothy grin.

“Back at you, dove.” Simon returned your words with just as much gentleness. And just as easily as he laid here with you this lazy morning he shifted back into his brooding sarcastic self.

“Take a test, last night was the one.” He joked. Before you could even roll your eyes the covers were tossed off of you.

Simon dragged your naked body across the bed and kissed your belly all over. You broke out into a fit of laughter because his stubble was tickling your soft skin. Breaking free you scrambled out of bed and went straight for the bathroom.

��It won’t come out positive that fast.” You chuckled.

“Humor me.” Simon called to you and your response was to shut the bathroom door.

Shrugging you decided to take the test. It would only confirm what you already knew. You grabbed an old discarded shirt of Simon’s from the floor and put it on. Tapping your foot you scrolled on your phone until the timer went off. Barely looking at the plastic test you picked it up and headed for the bin to toss it out. You froze mid stride.

It was positive.

“No fucking wonder I can’t stand him right now.” You chuckled to yourself. This was so relieving.

Pregnancy test’s use to set your teeth on edge, now it brought joy. You wanted to holler and cheer that this had finally happened. But that wasn’t really like you. So with a huge smile you went to go get your pain in the of an ass husband.

“Oi, asshole.” You called to Simon as you exited the bathroom.

You were beaming and looking like you shallowed the sun. He was out of bed and pulling his sweatpants. Holding up the plastic test Simon stared at you with a crooked smile from across the room.

“I know. Makes sense why you’ve hated me the past week.” Simon spoke knowingly and gave you a wink.

“You knew?” You blurted out, arm falling to your side.

“Course. You haven’t been able to stand me being in the same room as you for more than ten minutes; and you know how you get mean when you’re pregnant. You ate half the trey of brownies last night-“

You opened your mouth to deny that but Simon pointed at you and gave you a stern look.

“Don’t deny it.” Then he continued. His words had your mouth clamping shut.

“And the biggest tell. . . Your tits are swollen. It’s why I was able to leave that sample so quick. You pregnant does it for me.” With a shrug Simon moved to go put on a shirt and go about his day before his hellions woke up.

“You ass. Why didn’t you ask me to take a test sooner?” Waltzing over you tossed the test at his head but he quickly ducked and started deeply laughing.

“Would you have listened?” Simon asked with a quirked eyebrow.

“No. Would’ve waited for my missed period.” You muttered. Crossing your arms over your chest you averted your gaze.

“That’s why.” Kissing your cheek Simon wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you into his chest.

“Congratulations, dove.” Simon spoke softly into the crown of your head.

“I’m so excited.” Melting into his embrace you felt your legs turn to jello as Simon said exactly what you needed to hear.

“Love you. Forever.”

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quartztwst · 5 months ago

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Wedding in the Clouds! (TWST Fan-Event) (CLOSED)

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

Viva by @evexe

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

Yuura by @a-z-rie-l

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

Alice by @sinjaangels

Djyuu by @djchik

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! 💕💕💕🎉🎉🎉🎉

#twisted wonderland #twst #azul ashengrotto #my persona #persona #jade leech #floyd leech #octavinelle #twisted wonderland fan event #twst fan event #fan event #wedcloudevent #NOT QUARTZUL

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nayaesworld · 8 months ago

Text

Law and Order

Pairing: Terry Richmond x Thick black woman!OC

Warnings: (18+) Mature content, Cursing,Smut,Fluff

Word count: 3k+

I’m rusty yall bare with me, I hope yall enjoy!

The only time she truly lived was when she was at his service. She kissed the ground he walked on, cooked for him, cleaned for him, praised him, and in the end like the good slut she was, she’d let him dominate her. He’d breathe life back into her emptied lungs just to siphon it all out again.

“Open your mouth.” With his hand wrapped tightly around her slender throat, she obeyed and allowed him to spit into her wanting mouth.

“Mmm sir please use me, I’m begging.” She mewed on her knees, she knew he hated to be rushed, but he loved to see her beg even more. His blue eyes stared down at her as he undressed himself, pulling her up to her feet to place sloppy open mouth kisses along her naked body.

“You pleased me, you did as I asked. Now give me my pussy.” Falling onto their shared bed she opened her shapely thighs and brought them up to her chest, hooking her arms underneath them for support.

Dropping down to his knees he loosened his tie and slid off his jacket. Eyeing her he began to loosen his belt and slid his navy blue slacks off.

“Daddy is so stressed mama, I had a long day in court. I just need to use this body baby.” He crooned as he kissed her soft brown thighs. Moving her hands he hooked his own arms under her thighs, anchoring her and daring her to move.

Starting with open mouth kisses his thick pink tongue slithered from his perfect pink lips and lapped at the sweet liquid that seeped from her hole.

Reaching out to rub his shorts curls she moaned lowly, immediately being taken to another plane.

“Papa you make me feel gooodd ahh.” Throwing her head back she realeased her ginger curls from the satin scrunchie and ran her hands through her hair, needing something, anything to ground her to this place.

“Tell me you love me, tell daddy how much you like this sweet pussy demolished.” He groaned into her pussy ignoring the growing erection and priming his thick fingers to dig out her perfect kitty.

“I love you papa, nobody else matters just you.. oh I lov-.”

Her loud speech of adoration for him was cut off by the addition of his finger, he hooked it into her tight hole at a slow pace, sending her into a daze.

“Daddy faster please, I can’t take this please unh.. make me cum please i'll do anything.” Chuckling at her he sped up his finger slowly adding his second, while simultaneously lapping at the creamy mess she produced.

She wouldn’t last long and she felt it deep in her tummy, gripping his short hair she rocked her hips faster onto his fingers. His growls and low moans pushing her over the edge, she let out a scream and a spurt of liquid released from her.

Rubbing her pussy back and forth at a quicker pace Terry leaned closer with a open mouth. “Mhmh that’s it mama squirt for daddy, show daddy how good this shit feels.” Bria’s thick dark arched brows scrunched together and her breath was caught in her throat, she had to squirt again.

The second stream from her excited Terry more as he dove face first back into her. Hungrily lapping at her he looked up into her eyes, his now hazel ones bright with arousal. Standing to his full height, he pulled down his slacks and stepped out of them and did away with the rest of his suit.

“Come gimme a kiss baby, come taste yourself.” Leaning up to meet him he tangled his large veined hands into her curls and took her plump bottom lip into his mouth, he let her suck on his tongue, tasting her sweet essence.

Giggling into the kiss she reached down to stroke his fat dick. “Mmm I taste so good, I see why you always rush to tear me up.” The two shared laughs as he smirked agreeing with her.

“Daddy I want this dick, and I want it rough. Can you fuck me tonight?” She mewled into his ears, sucking them into her hot mouth. Grabbing her by the legs he pulled her thick body towards the edge of the bed. Leaning towards her to suck and kiss her fat titties, his hands roamed her body.

“You gonna run from me? Or you gonna let daddy actually pound this puss tonight.” She nodded her head at him, seemingly speechless all of a sudden.

Terry reached between his legs grabbing his heavy dick and began tapping it on her sweet puss, sliding it down and lining it with her wet hole he pushed slightly into her.

“ Fuckkk, this tight as pussy, imma put you through the bed mama I can’t help it… I got so much pent up…”

“I don’t care daddy… I need you, she needs you..” Patting her juicy kitty Bria pulled him closer, sealing her fate.

Bending into a push up position, Terry started pumping into Bria’s sopping pussy getting lost in the vacuum effect her tight little snatch provided. Dipping his head into her neck he hid his face squeezing his eyes together tightly holding off his impending nut.

“Goddamn this sweet ass pussy got me ready to nut..pretty fuckin’ bitch with tight ass pussy… you just don’t know.” He grunted roughly into her ear sliding his hand up to choke her.

Bria was dazed, getting slutted out by her daddy was the best. She’d take him any way he came and vice versa, her pussy began to convulse and her short french tip nails dug into his toned back.

“Please fuck meee… I need you baby, please nut in me..”

Bria had a baddd breeding kink and she knew her daddy did too, no matter how many times she begged to be flooded with his nut he always came so damn hard, lost in the idea of impregnating her and watching her pregnant belly grow.

“You want this nut mama.. hmm? You want my babies inside you!” Terry couldn’t contain himself his hips snapped forward quicker, the bed squeaking underneath them damn near on its last leg.

“Fuckkk baby fuck… I’m finna nut… I’m finna nut inside my pussy!” His brows shot up and she felt the instant pumping of his heavy dick into her pussy.

Bria’s pretty brown eyes crossed and her toes curled as she wrapped her legs tightly around Terry’s back, she wanted every last drop.

“Yesss I want it so bad…give it to me!”

His head near her ear he groaned out and nipped at her slender neck as he flooded her needy cunt with his warm cum, it just wouldn’t stop coming out and he was stuck anyway, stuck in her, stuck on her, and had no plans of ever coming off her… literally and figuratively.

.*.*.*.*.***.**********************************************

Terry and Bria were married and in their fifth year of loving each other. I didn’t take Terry long to decide that Bria was the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with, mostly because he wasn't a man that passed up the great things in life in hopes of them being there later, he’d seen that far too often in life and wasn’t a fan of repeating others mistakes.

Two years into their relationship he proposed, and ten months after they got married. Both solidified in their respective careers they figured why wait, neither wanted too. Bria was and still is his dream woman, he loved her, a tall thick southern girl with a spicy tongue that didn’t hold back who was both independent and beautiful. He loved how she wasn’t afraid to correct him when he was wrong, and how fiercely she had fought for him at some of his lowest times.

Bria felt the same tenfold. If you’d told her a few years back that she’d be married to her dream man, bought their dream house together, and was doing what she loved for work, she’d probably give you the meanest mug. Men weren’t good for her at one point, relationships didn’t last and she felt lost half the damn time, but sorry ass niggas would be just that. She was content, peaceful hell if anybody tried to come between them her mama would get a call from the county jail and she would be cheesing showing all thirty-two teeth in the mugshot. That was her man, her fine hard working and loving man.

.*.*.*.*.***.**********************************************

Terry was the first to wake up the next morning still driven by an internal alarm clock that woke him every morning at six A.M. sharp, courtesy of the Marines. Swiping his long legs onto the floor he stretched his bulky arms over his head and yawned lowly, turning around to peck Bria on her cheek as he walked toward their bathroom to relieve himself. After peeing he washed his hands and moved on to his face care routine that Bria helped formulate for him. Each product picked perfectly for his skin needs, Terry had combination skin, which was oily and dry. So he’d opt for an oil based cleanser and finish with a foaming wash afterwards.

Turning his naked top towards he observed the scratches along his back and sides, smirking to himself he moved to start the shower. His baby would turn into a cat when he was deep inside her and he loved the pain.

Exiting the shower he used a fluffy white towel to dry his head then wrapped it around his waist to head to your shared bedroom. Bria still layed passed out on her stomach with her hands under her chin, snoring softly into the firm pillows. She didn’t get up until after eight on her off days and definitely wasn’t a stranger to a good nap or two. Dressing himself in a black beater with gray Nike sweats after lotioning himself up, Terry slipped long white socks onto his feet.

Grabbing his phone and laptop he headed to his office down the hallway to get briefed on a new client of his. He was a criminal defense attorney, and everytime he thought he represented the worst out there another came knocking. It amazed him the shit people could get themselves into nowadays and he didn’t put anything past nobody, all these motherfuckers was crazy if it was up to him.

Bria had a less stressful job, and her love for children landed her in a career as a teacher. She had been teaching second graders for two and a half years now and it never got old for her. She loved the look on their little faces when they got something right or how excited they were to see her every day for five days straight. She never got burnt out and she never felt in over her head, this truly was her dream job.

.*.*.*.*.***.**********************************************

By nine-thirty Bria’s slumber had unfortunately come to and end, the Texas sun shining through the sheer curtains of the windows just wouldn’t let her be great, she’d have to go to the store later for blackout ones because Terry had picked up the wrong kind. Looking into the mirror across from their bed she slapped her hand over her mouth and laughed loudly at her appearance. She looked like she’d seen hell and back in the last twelve hours.

Rolling out of bed she rushed to the bathroom to relieve her bladder and shower. Tying her curls into a loose bun onto her head she stepped into the steamy shower sighing in relief. The aches reminded her of last night and she smiled to herself, chile she wasn’t playing with that man tonight, he was indeed a slayer of the cooch and she was spent.

Stepping out the shower she grabbed her shower robe and tended to her skincare after brushing her teeth. She had a new rosewater spray that was supposed to give a dewy look without clogging her pores and that was what she looked for in skincare. She rubbed a scented body oil on her supple skin after putting on her favorite shea butter lotion and stepped into their room to put on her moomoo.

Immediately hearing her man's country ass laugh from down the hall she skipped her ass right into his office, wrapping her arms around his shoulders from the back.

“Good morninggg papa!” She smothered the his cheeks and necks in kisses, acting just like the freshly fucked wifey she was.

Turning in his swivel office chair Terry met her lips with his and pulled her to straddle his lap.

“Good morning wifey, I like this lil mood you in… daddy did that?” Smirking to himself he laughed at her rolling her eyes, those pretty ass brown eyes. She could ask for the world and he would serve it right up to her fine ass, she deserved it all..

“You like asking questions you already know the answer to huh?” She sassed back getting a small pop to her ass.

“I’m kidding but yess it’s all you baby, you can have anything bae… you want a new truck or sum? I am well fucked!” He laughed at his goofy ass wife and kissed her exposed cleavage.

“No baby I’m all good, you all the gift I need.. lil sexy ass. You want breakfast? You know daddy make a mean pot of shrimp and grits..” Her eyes got big as saucers and she ran to the kitchen to wait at the island.

“I’ll be waiting for you and I’ll make the mimosas!” She yelled from the kitchen pulling out a bottle of orange juice and a bottle of champagne.

Laughing to himself he looked over the legal documents in his laptop triple checking he’d read through it all before closing it and heading to the kitchen to cook for his baby.

.*.*.*.*.***.**********************************************

After their savory and filling breakfast the two laid snuggled up on their cloud couch under a thick throw blanket watching reruns of Martin. Placing her hand on his chest she leaned up and looked into his eyes.

“Are things bad again at work… I mean I know they’re always stressful because of what you do but, you know I worry about you, these people are insane and I know these cases are heavy on you.” Air loudly left his nostrils and he rubbed up and down her back, pecking her on her forehead as he sat up.

“Yeah baby it is… you know I tell you what I can but I can’t always go into the intricate details of these cases, I’m stressed like a motherfucker right now but I’ll be aight… this is the reality of lawyering, you never know who the fuck you repping next.” She frowned to herself, she hated when things got like this for him at the firm because in a way seeing him like this made her stressed too.

“No I understand the confidentiality of the cases, it’s just I don’t want you feeling like you can’t tell me about your days, hell I don’t care if it’s about a judge you aren’t fond of… you know I’ll listen to anything you say.”

Wrapping her arms around his neck she threw her legs over his and intertwined herself with him.

“Take time for yourself papa… I know how you have to be in the courtroom and those offices, but here you unwind and leave all that shit at the door. You looked so worn out yesterday I don’t like that shit for you… promise to talk to me more papa.. I love you.”

Linking their pinky fingers together he brought them to his lips to seal the promise.

“I promise mama I will.. I just never wanna put all that heavy shit on you.. you’re my everything and you being just as stressed as me ain’t good for neither of us, you know you a drama queen.”

Smacking her lips she plucked his ear and laughed with him, turning back toward the tv.

“Speaking of jobs.. I can tell you I am not looking forward to this school week… they switched the curriculum again right after my students caught on to the last… they annoy me with that shit. It's hard on the kids and it’s bad on us, but that’s Texas for you.” She nibbled on her bottom lip just imagining the reconstruction of her yearly plan for her class, that was no joke and it often came with a boatload of parental complaints.

“Ugh those parents are gonna be on my ass and it isn’t even my fault! Hell I would love it if it stayed the same too.” Looking towards his wife Terry listened intently, having his own questions and thoughts.

“Why the hell are they changing it so often? The whole point of a curriculum is for the kids to grasp the learning material and pass to the next grade… are they trying to see low test numbers… that’s some odd shit.”

Puffing out a sigh Bria shrugged. “Baby I couldn’t tell you, but we shall see come Monday, I know I’m not tripping too bad over it I know that much hell.”

.*.*.*.*.***.**********************************************

By five PM the couple were dressed and headed out to pick up some takeout from their favorite soul food spot. Bria’s stomach grabbed and Terry laughed from the driver seat of his truck.

“Ouu my stomach is literally touching my back… papa you mind driving a little faster?” Bria whined to Terry reaching over to rub his ear.

Looking forward into the Houston traffic Terry mumbled to himself. “Yeah yeah I’m trying mama..”

They knew they’d get hit by the five o’clock Houston traffic but the food would make the trip worth the while. Neither wanted to cook after spending an hour in the supermarket stocking up on groceries, so they opted for placing a Togo order at their favorite spot instead.

Finally making it home to dig in Terry ripped open the white plastic bag immediately being hit with the steam and aroma of that good ole southern food. He handed Bria hers first since she was starving to death and took his out next. Terry had decided on smothered chicken and gravy with rice and red beans and a slice of cornbread , while Bria opted for smothered cabbage, fried chicken with mac and cheese.

Tucking into their plate lunches Bria had something weighing on her mind, something she’d been excited to bring up to her husband.

A week ago she had taken three pregnancy tests, all showing the infamous double lines indicating what she had been thinking for the last month. Her doctor confirmed it that past Tuesday and today finally felt like the perfect day to tell her husband.

“Papa I have a surprise for you… but I need to run to our room to get it.” Terry looked up into her nervous eyes and dropped his fork, wiping his mouth with a napkin and taking a sip of water he gave her his full attention.

“A surprise for me mama… what you been hiding from me? Matter of fact let me turn my back and close my eyes… and it bet not be that damn cat that been walking all over my truck either, you know you always on some ASPCA shit” He goofily yelled at her retreating form oh so curious as to what she could be hiding now.

Inside their room Bria grabbed the cute white gift box, inside sat the three pregnancy test along with a little baby bib that read “Daddy’s #1 Fan” Bria breathed in and out, she knew Terry would be ecstatic, hell he would scream it for the whole Houston to know, being a dad was his wish and she was happy to make it come true.

Hearing Bria pad back into the living area, she revealed a white gift box to him and sat him down on the couch. Urging him to open it Terry jokingly untied the ribbons slow as a turtle.

A megawatt smile hit his face and instantly he engulfed Bria into a crushing hug, thanking her over and over, this shit was better than anything he’d accomplished in life and the woman sitting to his right went half with him on that.

Perching his hand on her still flat stomach he got on his knees, lifted her shirt, and pecked her belly.

“Thank you so much mama… I can’t even thank you enough for this right now… this me and you for life for real, we really got a baby on the way girl?? We finna be John and Kate plus eight… ain’t no way we gone be a one and done typa family.”

The two shared laughs and shed tears together, because this was something truly special… something they went half on made with all the love they had to give and more.

“You are so welcome baby… anything for you, I’ll have ten of your babies fuck it why not.. I’m not going nowhere anyways… I have sooo many nursery ideas I was hiding on my iPad!”

Terry lifted her onto her feet and grabbed her face to plant a kiss on her lips, his girl, his wife, his child's mother.. he couldn't wait for all the stages, hell he was finna call her job Monday and tell them she wasn’t coming back, he didn’t want her working while pregnant anyways, but he knew she’d work until the doctor said otherwise.

They had nine whole months to prepare and nosy ass friends and family to fend off until they broke the news but, they wouldn’t trade it for the world.

.*.*.*.*.***.**********************************************

A/N: This may or may not be a multi part thing chile I don’t know, this idea was bugging me all day long so I was like why not knock the dust off google docs and type something up… no seriously shout out to Aaron Pierre he got the community up right now and I love everything I read and come across, hell he even got me writing again. I appreciate anybody who comes across this I really hope yall like it 🫶🏾I’m also open to constructive criticism💜!

Taglist: @keyaho @nahimjustfeelingit-writes

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mouseycometz · 6 months ago

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King and Queen of the Skies (TFP Starscream/OC)

Word Count: 700+ Warnings: None! Plot: Starscream teaches Juniper how to swan dive.

On a barren, rocky cliffside, Juniper stood tall in her techno-organic mode, her pink and gold armor shimmering bright below the sunlight. She spread her feet apart, her wings twitching with trepidation. A bead of sweat trickled down her face, her shining, blue eyes fixating on the solid ground below her. It was a long fall. One mistake could very well end in death.

Could she take that chance?

Starscream lingered next to her, towering over her with a scowl on his faceplate. He tapped his claws against himself, signifying that his patience was thinning.

“Well, are you going to keep me waiting all day? Try again.”

Juniper frowned a little, but she nodded and did as she was told. While flexing her wings, the woman dove from the cliff’s edge. The wind howled in her ears and grazed her visor, her red hair fluttering behind her. The feeling of weightlessness overwhelmed her, turning her insides numb with fear. The ground approached far too quickly, just like last time. Before she could even shriek, Juniper caught herself. She broke her form with a defeated groan, flailing her limbs as she readjusted her flight path. Sulking, she soared back towards the cliffside with the aid of the rocket boosters on her heels. Starscream waited with his arms crossed over his silver chest.

“Fine.” He frowned, venting with another sigh and twitching his wings. “Allow me to demonstrate once more.”

With that, the mech created some distance between her for safety. And then, with a dramatic flair, he engaged in a free fall. Juniper watched in awe as he fell in a perfect swan dive, outstretching his arms and wings before transforming into a jet at the last moment and twirling into the air. For several moments, he soared, truly aiming to impress the lady as she hummed at his display. With him, there was no fear, and there was no hesitation, at least whenever it came to flying. Starscream cherished the activity more than anything else in the universe.

Once he returned to her side, transforming into robot mode with his pedes planted firmly on the cliff, he nodded at her.

“You see? Now, do it right this time.”

Once more, Juniper pouted, a flood of anxiety overtaking her as she twiddled with her fingers.

“Stop doing that.”

“Doing what?”

"Playing with your digits!”

With a burst of emotion, Juniper stomped her heel.

“Well, I can’t help it! I’m scared.”

Starscream scoffed as though he found her outburst to be ludicrous.

“I've witnessed you fight an army of Terrorcon Predacons, how does this scare you?”

Juniper’s wings drooped, a blush forming across her pale face.

“I don’t want…to disappoint you.”

All at once, it seemed like everything came to a halt, even the wind itself. The mech paused, turning silent for a moment as the woman averted her gaze from him to look at the ground far below her. The blush across her face glowed, spreading to the tips of her ears. She closed her eyes, hoping to hide herself away from the embarrassment.

And then, she felt the tap of a digit on her shoulder plating, causing her to glance upwards. Starscream was lowered slightly, his gaze soft and his crimson optics bright.

“Why don’t I...do it with you this time?” He smiled at her. “I won’t let you hit the ground. I promise.”

There was sincerity in his tone, one that encouraged the woman to relax. Juniper couldn’t help but smirk, her chest thrumming with the warmth of her hybrid spark.

“Alright.”

With his help, she then formed her body into the correct position. He was right by her side, never wavering.

“Ready?”

Juniper nodded.

“Ready!”

Together, they dove, side by side as the air whooshed around them. As her wings tilted, Juniper felt Starscream's optics on her, and although she was tempted to meet his gaze, she instead focused on the ground ahead of her.

“Trust your spark, Juniper! I have faith in you!”

With her arms stretched and heels close, she waited until finally hearing the familiar sound of clicks and whirrs. Starscream transformed, and once he did, she activated her boosters and soared upwards into the sky along with him.

She cheered, kicking her feet and flicking her wings.

“Starscream, I did it!”

The mech laughed.

“Yes! You did! That’s my girl!”

The two beamed at each other, dancing in the sky as though they owned the entire expanse. In a way, they did. In the clouds, there was no one else. it was their safe space, their domain, and it was only them, the king and queen of the skies.

#transformers #maccadam #starscream #tfp starscream #tfp #transformers prime #starscream x oc #oc x canon #transformers x human #starscream x human #mouseyindulgence #my fics #🐭 scared of the dark 🕊️#self insert #self ship #self shipping

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trippiexlove · 4 months ago

Text

I Hate U

Author Note: Back to back one shots! Who am I?! This is a part three to my CARE one shots, with Josh and Solana. Read the first part linked here. Based off the song I Hate U by SZA <3. My master list is linked here.

Warning: Angst, profanity, talks of divorce, cheating.

Pairing: Jey Uso x Black OC (Solana/SZA)

Word Count: 4,574 (she longgg)

And if you wondered if I hate you (I do) Shitty of you to make me feel just like this What I would do to make you feel just like this

"I love you, Mommy," Mia whispered, her sleepy eyes fluttering. Solana's heart melted. It had been a whirlwind day, filled with laughter, games, and the delightful chaos of being back home after weeks on tour. Finally, the kids were settling down.

"I love you too, princess," Solana murmured, leaning down to press a soft kiss to Mia's forehead. "Sleep tight. I'll see you bright and early."

She gently pulled the soft blanket up to Mia's chin, lingering for a moment to watch her daughter's peaceful breathing. With a quiet click, she slipped out of the room, leaving the door slightly ajar. Liam was already deep in slumber, his small form curled beneath the covers.

A wave of exhaustion washed over Solana as she entered her own room. She practically dove onto the bed, a sigh escaping her lips as the plush bedding enveloped her. The familiar comfort was a welcome balm after the constant motion of tour life.

Propping herself against the pillows, she reached for her phone, her fingers hovering over the screen. A flicker of anticipation turned to a quiet disappointment as she scanned her notifications. Nothing. No new messages, no missed calls. Her eyes narrowed slightly, a faint frown creasing her forehead.

She pulled up Josh's contact, her thumb instinctively pressing the call button. Just like the previous attempts, the phone rang and rang, finally defaulting to his voicemail. A knot of unease tightened in her chest. A full twenty-four hours of silence was unusual, even with the time difference. Josh was currently overseas, touring Europe to promote this year's WrestleMania, a fact she reminded herself of.

But the silence still felt...off. She tried to push down the nagging worry, telling herself he was simply busy. Still, the lack of communication left a hollow feeling in her stomach.

With a sigh, Solana blew out a breath, her gaze drifting towards the darkened window. She considered trying one more time, but the exhaustion was a heavy weight, pulling her down. Ultimately, she decided to let it go for tonight. Maybe he'd call in the morning. She set her phone on the nightstand, the glow of the screen fading into the darkness, and closed her eyes, hoping sleep would come quickly.

Josh threw back the shot, the familiar burn settling in his chest. He was tired as hell, the show was long and grueling. But the boys dragged him to the club.

But he found himself at the bar, the boys somewhere off in the club doing god knows what. He felt his phone ring for the what felt like the hundredth time today. Looking down seeing Solana was calling again.

He silenced the phone putting it in his back pocket. His attention was grabbed by a tap on his shoulder. He turned, a grin instantly placed on his face.

"What you doing here sitting by yourself" Skai, the new girl on the roster who was called up recently. She tilted her head playfully, a smirk visible on her face. Josh eyes scanning over her curves, dressed in a tight crop top and mini skirt.

"Just taking a breather," Josh replied, his gaze mirroring hers, tracing the contours of her figure. "Everybody else disappeared somewhere in this chaos."

"They always do," Skai said, sliding onto the stool next to him, her hip brushing against his. "So, you're all alone?"

"Looks that way," he said, signaling the bartender for another shot.

"A shame," she murmured, her eyes never leaving his. "Someone as good-looking as you shouldn't be alone."

He chuckled, the sound low and suggestive. "And what bout you? Alone, too?"

"No," her voice low and seductive, "I was waiting for you," she said, her voice barely a whisper, leaning closer. "What we drinking?"

"Whatever you want," he said, his eyes locking with hers. "It's your night."

"Then let's make it a good one," she said, her smile widening. "I know just the place to start." She stood up, her hand sliding down his arm, pulling him to his feet. "Come on."

It was late at night for Solana as she got the kids down to sleep. She been running around with them from the studio, meeting up with her mom for lunch, then back home. Solana was exhausted. But the overwhelming dread loomed over her all day.

Josh still hasn't called. If it wasn't the post she seen from fans and other sites that highlights each show Josh was in, she would be worried.

Truthfully she was beginning to get pissed off. Josh wasn't keeping his promise he made just a little while ago.

The phone rang, the harsh, insistent tone cutting through the quiet of her apartment. Solana walked over to her bed. Seeing Josh's picture flash across her screen, she snatched it up, her heart pounding with a mixture of relief and apprehension. "Finally," she breathed, her voice tight. "Josh, where have you been? I've been calling."

A low, slightly muffled voice answered, "Hey, Sol. Sorry, baby. Been a crazy week."

"Crazy how? I've called you a dozen times," she pressed, her voice laced with worry and a hint of accusation. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, I'm fine," he said, his voice sounding distant, almost detached. "Just... a lot goin' on. Had a show last night, then the guys wanted to grab drinks."

"Drinks? Josh, really?," she said, glancing at the phone. "Is that why you haven't been answering any of my messages."

"Look, I told you, it's been hectic," he said, his tone turning slightly defensive. "My phone was on silent. I aini't even realize you been callin'."

"Silent for days?" she asked, her voice laced with disbelief. "Josh who you playin' with right now?"

"Solana, can we not do this right now?" he said, his voice edged with irritation. "I'm tired, I've had a long week."

"I was just worried," she said, her voice softening slightly.

"I'm fine," he repeated, his voice flat. "Just... busy."

"But you always make time," she said, her voice pleading. "Even when you're busy, you always call."

There was a brief pause, a heavy silence that hung between them. "Look," he said, his voice strained, before he could continue she heard some shuffling in the background. Followed by what seemed to be a girl's voice., "I gotta go. The guys are waiting."

"Wait, Josh—" she began, but the line went dead. The abrupt disconnect echoed in her ear, a cold, empty sound that mirrored the growing emptiness in her heart. She stared at the phone, her hand trembling, a knot of dread tightening in her stomach. His excuses felt flimsy, his voice distant, and the sudden end to the call left her with a chilling sense of unease. Something was wrong, she knew it. But she couldn't put her finger on what, exactly.

The racks of brightly colored dresses blurred past as Solana and Lyra navigated the bustling boutique. Laughter echoed between them, a welcome distraction from the gnawing worry that had settled in Solana's chest. They'd been on a mission, a much-needed girls' day out, punctuated by retail therapy and endless gossip.

"And then," Lyra said, her eyes twinkling, "he tried to tell me that I had to pay for the bill. Like you invited me, you fucking kidding me?"

Solana burst into laughter, the sound genuine for the first time in days. "Oh my god, Lyra. You have to break up with him."

"I know, right?" Lyra grinned, pulling a silk scarf from a display. "But he makes a mean margarita, so... trade-offs."

They settled into a restaurant for lunch, the aroma of food filling the air. Solana, finally feeling a sense of normalcy, confided in her friend. "It's just... Josh has been so distant," she said, stirring her drink. "He hasn't called in days, and when he does, it's like he's not even there."

"That's tour life, Sol," Lyra said, her voice reassuring. "It's hectic. You know that."

"I know," Solana sighed, "but it's different this time. He just... he sounds off. And he hung up on me the other night. Like, just fucking hung up."

"That's not like him," Lyra agreed, her brow furrowed. "Have you tried talking to him about it?"

"When I try, he just brushes me off," Solana said, frustration creeping into her voice. "He says he's busy, that I'm overreacting. Like I'm just some crazy ass bitch."

Suddenly, her phone buzzed repeatedly, the notifications flashing across the screen. "What's all that?" Lyra asked, her eyes widening.

Solana picked up her phone, her brow furrowed. "I don't know," she said, scrolling through the notifications. "Just a bunch of fans tagging me in a post."

She tapped on one of the notifications, opening a post from a fan account. It was a blurry shot of a tattooed arm, holding a drink, the background a dimly lit bar. The caption read, Anyone else think this looks familiar?

Another tag led to a short video clip, a shaky pan of a crowded club, a familiar laugh echoing in the background. Then another, and another. Each post was a piece of a puzzle, a cryptic message that was suddenly becoming horrifyingly clear.

Solana's breath hitched, her eyes widening in disbelief. "What the fuck," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Lyra leaned closer, her expression turning serious. "What is it, Sol?"

Solana showed her the posts, her hand trembling. "It's that new girl Skai," she said, her voice tight. "And I think it's Josh."

Lyra's eyes widened, her expression mirroring Solana's shock. "Oh, Sol," she murmured, her voice filled with sympathy. "This is... fucked up."

"I don't understand," Solana said, her voice trembling. "What the fuck is this?"

"Sol, you need to talk to him," Lyra said, her voice firm. "You need to ask him about these posts. Don't let this shit fester. You deserve answers."

Solana nodded, her heart pounding in her chest. The laughter of moments ago was gone, replaced by a cold, hard knot of fear. She knew Lyra was right. She had to confront Josh, to demand the truth, no matter how painful it might be.

The phone rang, a jarring sound that sliced through the quiet of Solana's room. She hesitated, her hand hovering over the answer button, a mix of anger and dread swirling within her. Finally, she answered, her voice cold. "What?"

"Hey baby," Josh's voice came through the line, a forced cheeriness that grated on her nerves. "You good?"

"How do you think I am?" she retorted, her voice flat. "You haven't called in days."

"I know, I know, baby, I'm sorry," he said, his tone shifting to a placating one. "It's been fuckin' crazy here. Shows every night, travel, the whole nine yards. I was actually callin' to apologize bout hangin' up like that the other night. I was tired"

"Yeah, whatever," Solana cut him off, her voice laced with acid. "You're always 'busy,' always 'tired.' It's getting old, Josh."

"What's wit' the attitude, Sol?" he asked, his voice laced with confusion.

"Attitude?" she scoffed. "Or I'm just tired of your bullshit."

"The fuck are you talkin' bout?" he asked, his voice rising slightly.

"Those pictures, Josh," she said, her voice tight. "Those posts. You and Skai. Getting real cozy. Real fucking close."

There was a long, heavy silence on the other end of the line. "What pictures?" he asked, his voice strained.

"Don't play dumb," she snapped. "The ones all over Instagram. You know damn well what I'm talking about."

"Solana, you're jumpin' to conclusions," he said, his voice smooth, a practiced tone of reassurance. "Skai's just a friend. Everybody went out that night."

"A friend?" she repeated, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "A friend you're practically glued to in every fucking picture? A friend whose captions sound like some cheap ass romance novel?"

"Look, I don't know what you seein', but you're blowin' this way out of proportion," he said, his voice laced with annoyance. "It's just social media. You know how people like to twist shit."

"Twist shit?" she said, her voice shaking with rage. "I saw the pictures, Josh. I saw the fucking videos. I'm not blind, and I ain't fucking stupid."

"Solana, you trippin' out right now," he said, his voice dismissive. "I would never do anything to hurt you. You know that."

"Do I?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper. She wanted to believe him, she desperately wanted to, but the images flashed in her mind, a stark contrast to his smooth words.

"Yes, you fucking do," he said, his voice hard. "You're my wife, Sol. I love you."

She hesitated, the words hanging in the air, a fragile promise that felt increasingly hollow. "I... I don't know what to believe," she said, her voice trembling.

"Just trust me," he said, his voice softening. "You know I won't lie to you."

"I... I can't do this right now," she said, her voice thick with emotion.

"Solana—" he began, but she hung up, the sharp click echoing in her ear. She tossed the phone onto the bed, her hands shaking. She couldn't breathe, couldn't think. She just felt a wave of nausea and a crushing sense of betrayal.

Her phone began to ring again, Josh's name flashing across the screen. She ignored it, letting it ring until it went to voicemail. Then it rang again. And again. Finally, with a trembling hand, she switched her phone off, the sudden silence a heavy, suffocating blanket. She curled up on the bed, tears streaming down her face, the weight of his betrayal crushing her.

The movie played on, a cheerful animated world filling the living room with light and sound. Solana sat on the couch, her children nestled on either side of her, but her mind was miles away. The silence from Josh was deafening, a constant, gnawing reminder of his absence.

She idly scrolled through Instagram, trying to distract herself, when a flood of notifications appeared. Her heart skipped a beat. She was tagged in a post. Not just any post, but one from Wrestling News Now, one of the biggest wrestling news pages on the platform.

A wave of dread washed over her. She hesitated, her finger hovering over the notification, before finally tapping it. The post loaded, the headline screaming across the screen: WRESTLING SUPERSTAR JEY USO CAUGHT IN INFIDELITY SCANDAL!

Below the headline was a carousel of photos, each one a brutal blow to her already fragile heart. The first showed Josh and Skai, their hands intertwined, leaving a crowded nightclub. The second, a grainy shot taken from a distance, captured them dancing intimately, their bodies pressed close. The third, a clear, sharp photo, showed them kissing passionately in front of a hotel. The final image was a candid shot, seemingly taken in the hotel lobby window, showing them cuddled together, Skai's head resting on Josh's chest.

The comments were a mix of fan speculation and outright accusations. "Is this the end of Josh and Solana?" one fan wrote. "He's been playing her this whole tour" another commented. The comments section was a chaotic mix of shock, anger, and pity.

Solana's breath hitched, her eyes widening in disbelief. The images were undeniable, the evidence damning. The world around her seemed to fade away, the cheerful cartoon characters on the screen mocking her pain.

Her hands trembled as she scrolled through the comments, each one a sharp, stinging reminder of her public humiliation. She felt a wave of nausea wash over her, a crushing weight in her chest. How could he? How could he do this to her, to their children?

Tears welled up in her eyes, blurring the screen. She felt a burning rage, a fierce protectiveness towards her children. She wouldn't let him do this to them. She wouldn't let him destroy their family.

She gently excused herself, leaving the room and retreating to the solitude of her bedroom. She needed to be alone, to process the shock, the pain, the betrayal. Her phone vibrated, Josh's name flashing across the screen. She stared at it, her hand trembling. She considered answering, demanding answers, but the words caught in her throat. She couldn't face him, not yet. She couldn't bear to hear his lies, his excuses.

She silenced the phone, letting it fall onto the bed. The silence was heavy, suffocating, but it was a silence she desperately needed. She curled up on the bed, her body shaking with sobs, the images of Josh and Skai burned into her mind.

The days that followed were a blur of tears, anger, and disbelief. Lyra had been a lifeline, a constant presence in the aftermath of the scandal. She'd brought over takeout, listened patiently to Solana's tearful rants, and even taken the kids off her hands, giving her precious moments of solitude.

Now, days later, a strange calm had settled over the house, a heavy, suffocating silence that hung in the air. Solana stood in the kitchen, staring blankly at the countertop, the silence punctuated only by the faint hum of the refrigerator. The house felt empty, devoid of the laughter and chaos that usually filled it.

The front door creaked open, the sound echoing through the stillness. Josh stumbled in, his shoulders slumped, bags dropping with a heavy thud by the door. He scanned the living room, his eyes searching, before his gaze landed on Solana in the kitchen.

"Solana," he called out, his voice hoarse, a mix of exhaustion and desperation.

She didn't turn, didn't acknowledge him. She continued stand at the counter, her back to him, jaw clenched, her body rigid.

"Solana, please," he tried again, his voice cracking slightly.

She remained silent, her back to him, as if he were a ghost. He took a few hesitant steps closer, his heart pounding in his chest. "Solana, I'm..."

He reached out, his hand hovering near her shoulder, but she flinched away, her body tensing. "Don't fucking touch me," she said, her voice low and dangerous.

"Sol, I need to explain," he pleaded, his voice thick with emotion.

She finally turned, her eyes burning with a cold fury. "Explain what, Josh? Explain how you fucked another woman? Explain how you humiliated me, how you betrayed our family?"

He flinched, his face etched with pain. "I know I fucked up, Sol. I know I hurt you. I'm so fuckin' sorry. I don't know what the hell I was thinkin'."

"Don't give me that bullshit," she spat, her voice rising. "You knew exactly what the fuck you were doin'. You were enjoying every goddamn minute of it."

He stepped closer, his eyes pleading. "Please baby, just let me try to fix this. Let me make it right."

Solana scoffed, the sound bitter and harsh. "Fix this? You can't fix this, Josh. You broke us. You broke me."

She turned to leave, but he reached out, his hand gripping her arm. "Solana, don't walk away from me," he begged, his voice cracking. "Don't do this to us. Don't do this to our family."

That was the spark. Solana exploded.

"Don't do this to our family?!" she screamed, her voice shaking with rage. "You did this to our family! Nigga you destroyed it! You and your bitch!"

He recoiled, his face paling. "Solana, please, don't say that."

"Oh, but it's okay for you to do it, right?" she screamed, tears streaming down her face. "It's okay for you to fuck around, to lie to my face, to treat me like I'm nothing?"

"No, Sol, that's not what I meant," he pleaded, his voice desperate. "I love you. I fucking love you. I'll do whatever to make this right. I'll quit wrestling, I'll do anything. Just please, don't leave me."

"It's too late, Josh," she said, her voice trembling, but firm. "It's too fucking late. You crossed a line, and I can't forgive you. I won't forgive you."

She pulled away from him, her eyes filled with a mixture of pain and determination. "I want a divorce," she said, the words cutting through the air like a knife.

He stared at her, his face a mask of shock and disbelief. "No," he whispered, his voice barely audible. "No, you don't mean that shit."

"Yes, I fucking do," she said, her voice hard. "I'm done, Josh. I'm done with the lies, I'm done with the betrayal. I'm done with you."

He reached out, his hands grasping hers, his grip tight. "Solana, please, don't do this. I'm begging you. Don't take my family away from me. I need you. I need our kids."

She looked down at his hands, his grip on her wrists, then looked back up at him, her eyes filled with a cold, unwavering resolve. "You should have thought about that before you went and fucked that bitch"

She yanked her hands away, turned, and walked away, leaving him standing there, his world crumbling around him.

The news of Solana and Josh's separation broke like a wildfire, consuming every gossip column and social media feed. Fans speculated, debated, and judged, their opinions ranging from sympathy for Solana to vitriol directed at Josh. The hashtag #TeamSolana trended worldwide, a testament to the outpouring of support for her.

Solana tried to shield her children from the storm of media attention, but the whispers and the pitying glances followed them everywhere. She focused on maintaining a sense of normalcy for Mia and Liam, filling their days with laughter and love, determined to protect their innocence as best she could.

One afternoon, Solana pulled up to the brick building. After walking in into the building, she maneuver through the long hall, going into the room she's been in for a few months now. The two lawyers, one representing Solana, the other representing Josh, already sitting at the table, their faces grim. Solana's heart sank. This was it. The official end of her marriage.

The sterile office, with its sterile white walls and minimalist decor, felt like a tomb. Solana sat opposite Josh, a chasm of unspoken words and simmering anger separating them. Her lawyer, Ms. Davis, a no-nonsense woman with a sharp gaze, sat beside her. Opposite them, Josh sat stiffly, his lawyer, Mr. Stone, a smooth-talking man with a practiced smile, at his side.

"Mr. and Mrs. Fatu," Ms. Davis began, her voice firm. "We are here to finalize the terms of the divorce. Custody of Maya and Liam will be joint, with equal time spent with both parents."

Mr. Stone nodded in agreement. "A fair and equitable arrangement for both parties."

Josh looked at Solana, his eyes filled with a mixture of regret and a desperate attempt at conciliation. "Solana, I know I messed up. I'm... I'm so sorry. I want to make this as easy as possible for you and the kids."

Solana's gaze was icy. "Easy?" she repeated, her voice laced with sarcasm. "You think this can be 'easy' after what you did?"

"I know I can't undo what happened," he said, his voice low, "but I want to be a good father. I want to be there for Mia and Liam."

"Then be there," she said, her voice sharp. "That's all I ask. Be a father. I don't need your damn money." her brows furrowed.

Mr. Stone cleared his throat. "Mrs. Fatu, while we understand your emotional state, we must address the financial aspects of the divorce."

"There's nothing to address," Solana said, her voice firm. "I don't want anything from him. I make my own money. I don't need his."

Josh's eyes widened slightly. "Solana, please," he said, his voice pleading. "Let me take care of you. Let me provide for the kids."

"I can provide for my kids just fine," she retorted, her voice hard. "I don't need your damn handouts, Josh. I don't need your pity. I just want this shit to be over with."

Ms. Davis leaned forward, her expression serious. "Mrs. Fatu, while your independence is admirable, it's essential to consider the future. Child support, even if not strictly necessary, can ensure the children's continued comfort and security."

"I appreciate your concern, Ms. Davis," Solana said, her voice softening slightly, "but I'm not interested in a financial battle. I want joint custody, and I want a clean break. That's all." she stated unmoving.

Josh looked at her, his eyes filled with a mixture of guilt and a flicker of something akin to admiration. "Solana, please, let me do something," he pleaded. "Let me at least... help with the kids' college fund, or something."

"Fine," Solana said, her voice tight. "But that's it. Nothing else. No alimony, no settlements, no strings attached."

Mr. Stone nodded, a hint of surprise in his eyes. "Very well," he said. "We can finalize the terms accordingly. Joint custody, equal time with the children, and a designated college fund contribution from Mr. Reyes. No other financial obligations."

And so, the terms were set. Solana walked out of the office, her head held high, her heart heavy, but with a newfound sense of empowerment. She had walked away from the wreckage of her marriage with her dignity intact, her independence unwavering. She would rebuild her life, not on the foundation of his wealth, but on the strength of her own talent and resilience.

As she got into her car, the tears she'd held back finally fell. The weight of the divorce settled in, and she sobbed, a release she knew she needed. After a while, the tears subsided. She wiped her face, promising herself from that day forward, she'd put herself and her kids first.

The studio felt different now, a strange mix of familiar and alien. The air hummed with a low-grade tension, a reflection of the storm that had raged within her. Solana sat at the piano, her fingers tentatively tracing the keys, the melody of a new song swirling in her head.

"I Hate U," she whispered, the words tasting bitter on her tongue.

It wasn't just a song anymore; it was an exorcism, a raw, unfiltered expression of the pain, the anger, the betrayal she had endured. Every note, every lyric, was a piece of her soul laid bare, a testament to the woman she was becoming.

Six months had passed since the divorce. Six months of healing, of rediscovering herself, of learning to navigate the complexities of single motherhood. It hadn't been easy. There were days when the grief threatened to consume her, days when the loneliness felt unbearable. But she persevered, for her children, for herself.

And now, she was back on stage, the roar of the crowd washing over her like a tidal wave. The energy was electric, a palpable sense of anticipation hanging in the air. They had welcomed her back with open arms, their cheers a balm to her soul.

"This next song," she began, her voice trembling slightly, "is for anyone who's ever felt lost, anyone who's ever felt broken. This song is for me."

The first notes of I Hate U filled the arena, a raw, emotional melody that resonated deep within her. As she sang, the raw emotions behind the song consumed her. The pain, the anger, the betrayal, all of it poured out with each note. Tears streamed down her face, blurring the lights, but she continued to sing, her voice raw with emotion.

The crowd, initially stunned by her vulnerability, fell silent, a hush descending upon the arena. Then, slowly, tentatively, they began to sing along, their voices a chorus of support, of understanding. With each verse, the energy in the room shifted, transforming from a concert into a collective catharsis. Solana, lost in the music, felt a sense of release, a sense of liberation. She was no longer just a victim, she was a survivor. She was stronger than she ever thought she could be.

As the final notes faded, the crowd erupted in applause, a thunderous ovation that shook the very foundations of the arena. Solana stood at the edge of the stage, tears streaming down her face, but this time, they were tears of joy, tears of triumph. She had faced her demons, she had bared her soul, and she had come out stronger, more resilient than ever before.

And in that moment, she knew that she was finally free.

If you would like to leave a request go comment on this link post. Check out my master list for other one shots and my other stories.

Tag list: if you want to be added to the tag list comment below!

@xbriexx , @mindairy , @tribalchief2112 , @theusotwinzcom , @yana3sworld

#jey uso#jey uso smut#jey uso x black fem oc#jey uso x black oc#jey uso x black reader#jeyuso#main event jey uso#wwe

#Spotify #jey uso #jey uso x black oc #jey uso smut #jeyuso #jey uso x black fem oc #jey uso x black reader #wwe #main event jey uso #trippiexlove

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pradapussy · 2 months ago

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Don’t Hide Behind Your Rage

TAGS: Remmick x Reader , Remmick x OC , second person POV, named OC, WIP , vampire , remmick x fem!reader , dead dove do not eat, dubcon , noncon , dark fic, monsterfucker , human x vampire , feminine pronouns for reader, multi-part fic, sub!remmick, dom!reader

SUMMARY: You share a cigarette with a handsome stranger. When he offers to walk you home, both of y’all find yourselves having bitten off more than you can chew.

A/N: heyyyy sorry for contributing to the horrific amount of remmick x readers and remmick fics in general. i haven’t written for myself in so so so long and i just wanna blow off steam after finals. I don’t see a lot of sub!remmick so i make the world id like to see :) Part 2 is tomorrow :D I’m testing the waters today. Enjoy!

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A cold October at some rinky dink bar in Oklahoma is not how you expected to spend your Saturday. Parties were never your thing. Music, sure. Drinks, hell yeah, People sometimes, but all of these at once make your head spin - make you need a smoke. Honestly, nobody would expect a homebody like you at a place like this, sharing a cigarette with a total stranger. Not without good reason, at least.

Your stranger leans casually on the railing, his stubble and pink lips are highlighted by the ember of your cigarette in his fingers. He passes it back to you, his fingers are jarringly chilly but the way his dark eyes glint in the moon reassures you. This man is reason enough. You stare a bit too long, lost in thought.

“You gonna keep me waitin’, duck? Or d’ya want the wind t’finish the cig for ya.” He seems like a proper southern boy with that lilting drawl, but his diction throws you off. The words he chooses feel like another time and place.

“Sorry, dunno where my mind went.” You gingerly take the cigarette from his clammy hands. Now it’s his turn to take you in. Your skin diffuses the silvery moonlight and bronzy street lights into a color all its own. Your hair is soft and is tousled by a stray autumn breeze. He picks a flyaway piece that threatens to blind you, and tucks it behind your ear. Heat fills your cheeks.

“Sooo,” he starts “what's a wee gal like you doin out at some dive in th’middle o’ nowhere?” He leans closer towards you, looking you up and down.

“Oh nothing, just lookin for something special.” Your words are aloof, yet inviting. He hears the smile behind them. Your bright eyes glance at him purposefully, scanning his form just as he did yours. His shirt is half-tucked and his suspenders hang limply on his lean shoulders. The pants he wears are a touch too big on his cut waist. That pale blue light of the moon seems to be all the color his fair skin and brown curls of hair can absorb - save for the hint of red in his eyes.

“How mysterious, a Jane Doe sauntering around Sulphur ‘looking for something special.’” He laughs, cracking a toothy, crooked smile. “Can I ask what special thing yer lookin’ for t’night?”

“You caaan, but it’d be embarrassing to tell you since I seem to have found it already.” You smile playfully, the tip of the cigarette burning bright as you take a drag of it.

Suddenly, your cigarette burns out in the wind and is quickly forgotten. The smell of smoke, embers, and a bit of something metallic, something iron-y catches your nose. What was that? And when did your stranger get close enough to be shoulder to shoulder with you? He leans in, his face too close for comfort, but you hold steady, masking instinct with poise.. “Yeah? And what would that be, darlin’?” his attempt at being suave are thwarted by his puppy-dog eyes.

His efforts to fluster you are adorable. You one up him, placing your plump lips right in front of his, millimeters away from a kiss. Your hand squeezes on his forearm. He can smell your blood running hot, the scent of arrogance fills his head.

“You, baby.” Whispered words of a strange woman roared in his head. His unnaturally cold hands almost feel warm under yours. Muscles contract under his work shirt, responding to a multitude of emotions and desires he was unprepared to handle.

He is flustered. You can see it in the flush tips of his ears and the heat coming off his pallid face. “I appreciate your forwardness, sugar, but I dinna even know your name.” The way he pronounces “don’t” piques your interest. There is something so off about the way he speaks - it excites you because you know this man is hiding something. You smile wide and toothy just like him.

“Connie” you whisper in his ear, your soft neck exposed to him pulsing with something more intense than desire. A twitch, the name seems to stir something from a past life in him. His eyes open, half-lidded and fighting temptation to sink his teeth into your tender flesh. You pull away from him, your presence still lingering in his ear. “I oughta head home...” Remmick leans his head into your shoulder as you pull away lips brushing your retreating flesh. You catch a glimpse of him wincing with his mouth parted and fangs just barely retracting. “I’ll see you around…” There is space for a name at the end of that sentence, and he fills it eagerly.

“Remmick, and please, where are ya stayin, duck? Lemme be a gentleman and walk you home. You never know what crawls around at night” You want to roll your eyes. He can’t conceal his excitement at your invite. Remmick thinks he’s got an easy mark out of you.

“My uncle’s got a little cottage in the woods just outside of town.” A heat forms in the pit of your stomach, stronger than desire, laced with anticipation. Bloodlust. You gesture in a direction, interlocking arms with him and pressing your body to his. “We can take a shortcut so you don’t have to spend too long protectin' lil ol me.”

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A/N: if anyone’s seen lady chatterley’s lover ya already know why i chose connie as the mc’s name >v<

#remmick x reader #remmick x oc #second person pov #named oc #dead dove content #dead dove do not eat #remmic x fem!reader #feminine prounouns for reader #sinners fanfiction

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janettheblackcat · 2 months ago

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The Cat | Lando Norris x OC

Summary: Lando gets back to work after departing from his adventure in Paris—his bosses hound him, his friends question him—all the while Fritzi starts an investigation on his date rape drugging. As the pair begins to get closer through all of this, the people around him start to make him even more suspicious of what happened to him, as he hopes to get real answers soon on more than just that night.

Word Count: ~1.3k

Pairing: lando norris x dj!female oc

Warnings: +18, suggestive content, adult content, adult language, implied drug abuse, implied date rape drugging, implied roofies, fluff, slow burn, sexual tension, mention of bd/sm, mention of petplay, mention of latex

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Chapter 3 (Chapter 2 | Masterlist)

The rest of the day went by in a blur for Lando—from the Monte Carlo station to his Ferrari, from his Monaco home to the private jet; the only thing on his mind was the little piece of paper his stashed in his pocket that he rubbed between his fingers on the plan ride to Barcelona. Jon, Lando’s trainer, snapped his fingers by his ear, releasing him from his trance. “You doing alright, mate?” Lando nodded instinctively. “What happened to you in Paris?” The pieces of that night were just beginning to fit together like an intricate puzzle, a day later. The only thing he could remember clearly was her. “We think someone tried to roofie me, so I crashed at my friend’s place—“

Zak strolled in from another part of the plane. “Oh, who? This friend?” He slammed his phone against the conference table—a photo of Lando and Fritzi walking along the Parisian streets, hand in hand, were displayed bright as day underneath a scandalous headline: Lando Norris, McLaren Formula One driver, caught walking with a new mystery lady to the Haussmann–Saint-Lazare station in Paris, France. Lando slowly shuts his eyes. Paparazzi, he thought. Paparazzi are everywhere. “And how do we know it wasn’t her that—“

“It wasn’t her, she took care of me!”

“Is that right? She took care of you?” Lando looked around at his team. Oscar angled his eyes away from the drama. Zak, with steam coming from his ears, sighed and hugged his driver. “I’m just glad you’re alive. But, whatever happened to you, whatever she has to do with it, fix it. Or we’ll have to intervene.” Lando patted Zak on his gut and sat back down. Walking past Zak, Lando’s teammate sat across from him and placed his hands on the table. “Did something really bad happen to you, Lan? You can tell me.” Lando’s eyes soften on his mate. “It’s all just fuzzy, you know—one second I’m walking around Paris, then I come across this club and this girl cat thing is in front of me, next thing I know I’m waking up in her bed studio place…” Lando looked up at Oscar, who’s confusion was written in his eyebrows. “You know what, Oscar? It’s alright. I already have a team handling it.”

“And by team, do you mean—“

“Yes, her.”

Oscar pursed his lips and nodded. Lando placed his headphones around his ears and replayed the past 24 hours in his head.

When they land in Spain, the creamy sunset was shifting under the moon’s subtle glow. They get picked up and taken to Hotel Arts, where most of the teams and drivers have already began to settle in for the upcoming Spanish Grand Prix. Lando accepted his key from Andrea, his team principal. “Please, no clubbing tonight.” Lando threw his hands up before collecting his luggage and walking towards the elevator. Heading towards the penthouse floor, he contemplated calling the number on the little sheet he had been clenching in his fist since she handed it to him. Off the elevator, as soon as he reached his room, the tired racing driver dove headfirst onto the soft bedding.

“Here goes nothing…” He whispered to himself as he reached for his phone. On the third ring, he heard a familiar voice. “Hello? Is this Lando?” He smiled to himself. “Waiting for me to call?”

“Yes.”

“Well, I was waiting all day to call you. Where are you right now?”

“I’m at home, getting ready for work.”

“I thought you said your new mix wasn’t—“

“I’m just dancing tonight. Plus, I needed an excuse to scope the area, look at the cameras, ask around, you know.” Lando shook his head in agreeableness. “Be careful out there.” “You too. Enjoy your race week. Don’t let what happened to you cloud your mind; focus. Win.” He chuckled at Fritzi’s evergrowing commanding nature over him.

A knock on the outside of his hotel room door started to pull him away from the call. “Someone’s at the door. I gotta…” “Go, I know. We’ll talk again soon when I have more intel.” They stayed on the line, lingering silently for a second. Another knock pulled them back into reality. “I’ll call you again, I swear it. Goodnight, Lando.” She hung up first.

Opening the room door, some of his best mates were standing in the frame, waiting to be let in—Max, Oscar, and Carlos. They bum rush past Norris to sit on his bed and couch, ordering room service and having their own side conversations. “So, mate, I heard you had a grand time in Paris,” Max chimed in. The room fell silent. “The girl. From the photos. You were on the phone with her, weren’t you?” Lando blushed. “She’s going back to the club, getting some information for me.” Max walked up to Lando, handing him a bottle of water. “I’m sorry about last night. I just wanted to push you into doing something different; I had no idea someone would try to drug you, man.” He hugged Max tightly. “You’re alright, mate.”

The men all looked down at the floor in shock after Lando, due to their incessant pestering, finally told them everything he remembered about what happened to him over the past two days. “So, what, is she like a furry?” Carlos and Oscar darted their eyes to the driver. “No, it’s different somehow,” Lando waved his hand dismissively. Max walked over and next to Carlos, snickering the whole way down. “Oh yeah, she’s definitely from Germany, mate. They have whole fetish conventions up there. Plus they’re known for their techno; I only know that because I knew a German dj who stayed in Rotterdam,” the Dutchman recalled. “Do you like her,” Carlos smirked. A light grin grew around his former teammate’s face. “I don’t know. I don’t know her. But she didn’t steal from me, and she kept me alive. I don’t know anyone in my position who wouldn’t like a girl like that.” Oscar clasped his hands on Lando’s shoulders. “And she’s also a hot German latex fetish cat woman techno dj person.” They all nodded in unison.

After telling his boys goodnight, and walking them out of his penthouse suite, Lando’s phone began to ring. It was her. “Is everything okay?” “Yes, how are you?” His lips curled while he reached for his suitcase. “I’m good, heading in for the night. And you?” “I’m on my way to the club, thought I’d say goodnight again.”

“Missed me?”

“Ja. I told you I was going to call you again. Plus, I always call my friends when I miss them.”

“Are we friends now, is that it?”

“Are we enemies?” Lando shook his head and sucked his teeth. “I’m going to take a shower now, Frau.” The air shifted with her silence. “Don’t call me that, Mr Norris, if you aren’t prepared to mean it.” The driver gulped. “Just let me know what you find out, yeah?” “Viel Glück.”

Crawling into bed, all he could see were glimpses of her. A stray cat in the nightlife. He wondered if she was doing this because she wanted something from him. He imagined a world where she asked for nothing in return. His heart got heavy at the thought of her using this against him. His eyes began to grow heavy, when his phone eliminated in his eyes.

Got the evidence. I will see u when u come back to Monaco. I’ll be waiting for u

Lando exhaled and laid back, putting everything about her in the back of his mind—just until he got back home—and fell peacefully to sleep, awaiting rest of the week that lied ahead of him.

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mortuary-reads · 10 months ago

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Superhero morals had no place on a drunk and horny animal...

🐇🍓Fruit Bunny🍓🐇

Wolverine x Female OC

Summary~ Wolverine takes advantage of the cute girl that comes into the bar for a lonely birthday drink.

Warning~ Non-Con, Primal/Prey, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Mention of blood and saliva

Word Count~ 3.1k

Author's Note~ This is my first Tumblr post, so I hope it looks alright. I wrote this story on Ao3, and with the help of @romanarose, I was able to make a post here!

Divider 1 made by~ @plum98

Divider 2 made by~ @mmadeinheavenn

Logan had just opened another bottle of cheap beer when he heard the bell above the front door open. He turned his head out of lazy curiosity and saw a short, chubby girl with pale blonde hair walk in. Her walk was timid as she made her way up to the middle of the bar where the bartender stood. It just so happened to be right next to Logan. He caught a whiff of her perfume with his sensitive mutant nose.

Strawberries.

In his tipsy state with an empty stomach, he found her scent mouth-watering and couldn’t stop himself from leaning a bit closer to her. She didn’t seem to notice.

“How can I help you, sweetheart?” The worker leaned on the bar.

“Um… Do you make mixed drinks here?” She asked shyly.

The bartender made eye contact with Logan, and they both chuckled. He looked back at her. “I do if you’re 21. Can I see some I.D. please?”

“Oh! Right.” She sheepishly opened her pink satchel purse and pulled out a lacy wallet the same color. She grabbed her identification card, showed it to the man, and he nodded with approval.

“I’m guessing you’re wanting something fruity?”

“Yes, please. If you can.”

“I’ll see what I can whip up for ‘ya.” The barkeep grunted and stretched while turning to look at his alcohol stash.

The brunette man examined her as she put her wallet away. Her outfit made her stand out in the grimy bar. Pristine black Mary Janes held her tiny feet, covered by baggy cream leg warmers with knitted strawberries on them. Under those were white tights that hugged her thick thighs followed by a short denim ruffle skirt and a heart belt. She wore a tight white shirt with a huge strawberry printed on the front and a small bow to hold back her side bangs. She was so cute it made him feel nauseous. What a lovely little rabbit.

“Can…I help you?” The girl asked, her voice filled with unease.

“Mm!” Logan cleared his throat and leaned away. “My bad, I just thought you smelled nice. Don’t mind the old, drunk bastard.” He took a swig of his beer.

Happy to hear a compliment, but still weary, she smiled at him. “Oh, thank you. It’s a new perfume I got for my birthday.”

“The big 21?” Logan asked.

“No, 22. My friends couldn’t make it this time, so I’m just here, drinking alone.” She chuckled nervously.

That was her first mistake.

Something in him turned. He didn’t know if it was the alcohol swirling in his stomach or the growing hardness in his pants, but his body felt extra hot. “Ain’t no shame in that.” He drew from his big cigar.

The bartender set down a martini glass filled with a light red liquid and a big bright strawberry on the side. “I figured you liked strawberries.”

The girl mock-gasped, “How could you tell?” then laughed.

Logan found her laughter almost as intoxicating as the beer in his hands.

“That’ll be-” The bartender started, but was interrupted by the burly man with the cigar.

“On me, Tim.” Logan held his hand up slightly.

The barkeep nodded his head, and walked to the register to put it on his tab.

“Awww thank you! You didn’t have to-”

“I know I didn’t.” He gulped down the rest of his beer and placed it on the bar a bit too heavy. “Add me three more shots and I’m calling it, big guy.” He called out to Tim.

Feeling uneasy again, the girl took her drink and thanked him again.

“Mhm.” Was all that came out as he puffed his cigar.

Logan clenched and released his fists multiple times after she walked away to sit at a table in the back of the bar. After getting his shots he snuck multiple glances at her. He didn’t understand where this yearning feeling came from. He’d already swallowed so much pooling saliva in fear he’d drool all over himself, and it made him angry. He could even smell her strong fragrance wafting over to him, like an invitation. He watched as she kicked her legs on the stool that was too high for her. He watched as she took too many selfies and made silly faces into the camera. Her movements were so delicate that it made his entire body quiver with need.

The evening saw the sun go down, and a blue-gray fog enveloped the windows of the bar. Logan noticed the girl clumsily hop off her stool, and straighten out her skirt and purse. He quickly turned his back to her as she headed in his direction towards the door. Biting his knuckles, he stopped himself from whimpering as the chime from the bell above the door rang out twice, signifying her departure.

Blowing out a deep breath, Logan got off his stool and popped the collar of his leather jacket before throwing back his last shot.

“Hey, Logan, Have a nice night, man!” Tim shouted from the end of the bar where he’d been in a conversation with another customer.

“Yeah.” Logan mumbled, dropping a one-hundred dollar bill on the counter before walking out the front door into the cool air. On the pavement he checked his watch and sighed.

6:37 the time read. He didn’t have time to think of anything else before the familiar scent of strawberries assaulted his nose. With a deep inhale, he looked to his right and noticed the small girl making her way down the sidewalk headed towards the deep wooded area next to the bar.

Her second mistake.

Why that way? Kid’s gonna get herself killed. He hesitated, just standing there as she kept walking. The sway of her hips was mesmerizing to Logan. He clenched his fists and scowled, as if in a war with himself. He knew it was wrong; lusting after a girl so young. Wanting her so aggressively. The idea was so tempting…

The concrete sidewalk vanished into naked ground, as she made her way through the treeline on its dirt path.

Oh, she’s asking for it.

Superhero morals had no place on a drunk and horny animal. There was no justification for all the things he wanted to do to her. Walking in her same direction, he decided that he didn’t care; his mind was made up.

Logan stuck his hands in his pockets and honed in on her scent. In a tipsy haze, he had to focus somewhat harder than normal to keep her in his line of sight, but his need for her kept his animalistic instincts in check. As the lights of the bar melted out of view, his eyes stayed glued on her. He knew exactly where to crouch, duck, and hide every time she turned around. And each time she did, he could feel his heart skip a beat. He almost felt like he could laugh with the rush of adrenaline he was experiencing. The way she hummed romantically to herself made him feel like he was floating. Stalking his prey, his body twitched, waiting for the right moment to strike. Signs of life outside of the forest grew quieter, which meant he had to as well.

He was right up on her, two trees away. He was slightly surprised he was able to get so close.

No spatial awareness… dumb fucking rabbit. Wolverine scoffed to himself.

For the first time the pretty prey stopped. She checked her phone for what he felt was the umpteenth time.

“Still no service.” She mumbled to herself and sighed. “This phone company sucks ass…”

He couldn’t take it anymore. Logan forced himself to come out of the trees and onto the path, about ten feet away from the girl. Hearing the rustling, she turned around and jumped.

A surprised shriek came from her throat. “Oh, my God! Wha-what are you doing here?”

“I should be asking you the same question, little rabbit.” He said in a low growl, taking a few steps towards her.

“I’m just trying to get home.” She gulped. “This way is a short-cut.”

“It’s dangerous for an attractive thing like you to be out here-” he surveyed the vast area around him, “-alone.”

“Hey, um… I can pay you back for the drink, that's no big deal.” She laughed nervously, fumbling with the flap of her purse.

Trails of wetness ran from his mouth, down his neck, and soaked the collar of his wife beater. Wolverine spit on the dirt path beneath him, letting the last of his pooled saliva dribble over his lips. “I don’t want your money, princess. But you can give me something else.”

He started walking steadily, and noticed her chest rising and falling rapidly. Each step he took towards her, she took backwards. She tripped over loose items on the path as the animal in front of her kept a steady pace.

“Please, sir, I-I don’t want any trouble.” She slowly held her hands out.

“Mmm, say that again.” He slowly peeled off his jacket and tossed it aside.

Both figures kept the same pace and distance on the ground. Logan could feel his claws unsheathe themselves, his sanity gradually slipping from him. The only thing on his mind being the pretty piece of flesh in front of him. She gasped and took a handful of hurried steps back as tears formed and fell from her eyes. He thought they looked so delicious on her pale cheeks.

Her nose twitched, and in an instant, she turned and dashed through the woods.

“You run your sweet, hoppity tail off.” He said to himself before he booked it right after her, running on all fours, claws piercing the ground with each burst forward. Blood curdling screams rose out of her body as she ran. Wolverine gained on her with almost no effort and pounced directly on her back. She screamed again as they both hit the ground, landing on a bed of dead leaves and sticks. His claws receded and he aggressively flipped her over on her back as short yelps escaped her mouth. She fought him in vain, pounding on his arms and chest, only to send shooting pain through her arms and legs. His metal bone structure would only hurt and wear her out faster; exactly what he was hoping for. He easily overpowered her, pinning her arms to the side of her head, with his knees on her shins.

“Fighting me won’t get ‘cha anywhere, bunny.”

“Fuck off!” She screamed, thrashing her head in hopes to hit him.

Wolverine gripped her wrists tighter and she screamed again.

“Knock it off!” He barked.

“Get off of meee…!” She cried out, but did slow her moving.

Her wiggling body underneath him sent a wave of heat to his twitching member, straining to free itself from his jeans. He lowered his head in the side of her neck and inhaled deeply the inebriating smell of strawberries, sweat, and fear.

The chilly fog in the air had thickened, giving the illusion of just the two in their own, messed up world.

“I'm gonna have so much fun with you, pretty girl.” He said, almost sickly-sweet.

Logan released his right hand from her wrist and not a moment later she slapped him hard across the face. She cried out in anguish, coiling her hand into her chest.

“Owwww…” She sobbed, turning her face away from the animal holding her down. “P-please…”

He gripped her face and twisted it hard to face him. He loved looking at her chubby cheeks crushed between his hand. Her movement ceased. Big blue eyes stared up at him in pure horror.

“P-p-please.” He mocked her and frowned dramatically only to break into maniacal laughter. Unsheathing his claws once more, he hooked them under her bra and shirt, and swiped up, tearing open each. After, he did the same with her skirt and tights, leaving her black panties intact and for show. He didn’t touch her leg warmers or shoes, only caring about how to achieve his goal fastest.

The girl dared not move as Wolverine lifted himself to his feet. She watched him throw off his top, unbuckle his pants and quickly pull off his gray boxers. She looked in shock at the mammoth sized cock protruding from the man’s muscular body. Her lips quivered as she looked back up at him, only to see he’d been watching her the whole time.

“Not so delicate now, are you?” He whispered to himself, bringing himself down to her level. He crawled towards her, drool dripping again from his mouth. He stopped between her legs and got up on his knees.

“If I offended you in any-” The pale blonde squealed as he ripped her panties clean off, exposing her cunt.

He grabbed both her ankles and forced her legs wide open and high in the air, leading her to scream out in agony as her muscles tensed. “Aahhhh…!”

“Mmm. Such… supple prey. Mine… to ruin.” His grasp on her ankles strengthened as his saliva fell in thick drops over her groin. He towered over the girl, looking down to admire the snow-white, chubby body below him. The dirt had stained her skin, and small cuts from the sticks smeared her arms with blood. Wolverine spit hot saliva on her twitching pussy, providing the first bout of lubrication.

She winced as he slapped his heavy cock on her vulva. “I-I can’t take that. I’ll die…”

Logan knew that was an exaggeration, but she believed it, and that's all that mattered. Panic re-entered her system and she started to try and pull away. He stopped her almost immediately by spreading her legs wider, that followed with another cry of pain.

“Maybe after I ruin you…” He lined his cock against her vaginal opening, “...I’ll make myself a nice rabbit stew.”

The poor creature yowled into the night as Wolverine penetrated her. Given no time to adjust to his size, all she could do was dig her hands into the soil beneath her and take it. Loud, broken grunts escaped from her as he shoved himself inside. He craved to go deeper, but was halted by her cervix.

“Fuck.” He growled, looking down at the lude scene before him. He still had more to give her. He wanted- no, needed- his entire dick sheathed inside her tight hole.

“Go-od, please stop.” She begged. To him, her smeared makeup and tears made her even prettier. “It hurts. It hurts so bad!”

Without acknowledging her words, Logan bent himself down to hover over her, taking her thighs into the crook of his arms, spreading her wider. “I need to-” He moaned as he forced the remaining bit of his cock into her over stuffed pussy. “There… We go!”

“Be good…sweet bunny.” He sank his teeth deep into her neck as he rammed himself in and out of her.

“NooOOO!”

Her blood tasted like candy on his tongue. After a while, her screams turned into dazed sobs, and her body fell limp. Her vagina had self lubricated as a protective measure, making it easier for him to pound harder and faster, bruising her cervix.

His heart fluttered as she moaned incoherent things in her stupefied state. Her hands had landed themselves on his body, feebly grabbing at and rubbing his chest. He slowed down slightly to really feel the moment, and the body he was abusing.

“Please…I…oohh fuck…” She threw her head back as her body shook in an involuntary orgasm. He removed his teeth from her neck, blood flowing freely from the four deep puncture marks. Her cunt tightened around him, making him moan with her. She started sobbing again, embarrassed at her lack of control, but too exhausted to do anything about it. Her new cries revitalized him, and he picked back up to his brutal pace.

“Take… all of it.” He said brusquely as his own orgasm approached. Wolverine’s eyes rolled back and he slammed into her to the hilt of his cock. Prey wailed out as cum gushed directly into the deepest part of her vagina. She felt herself being filled with hot, thick liquid, and they both moaned as it overflowed and spilled out. He hovered over her, panting and cursing. He moved his arms, releasing the girl from her painful position. As her sore legs dropped and straightened out, he fell on top of her naked chest. He could still smell the strawberry perfume on her, though it was extremely weak being covered by the scent of earth and sex.

He didn’t want to pull out of her. In all honesty he could lay there for the night and use her as a pillow to sleep.

It’s not like she could do anything about it. Logan thought, But I need to get out of here before I’m found out. He picked himself up off of her and stared down at her spent figure. Her eyes were half lidded, chest rising and falling softly. She looked somewhat peaceful, if it wasn’t for her twitching legs and gaping cunt. After putting his clothes back on, he grabbed his phone out of the left front pocket and dialed the crisis number.

“-What’s your emergency?” The woman on the line asked.

Logan cleared his throat, “Uh, yeah, I found a girl unconscious in the woods off of 3rd and 5th. About a mile in. She looks like she might need medical attention.”

“Alright sir, I have an ambulance on the way to you, can you please remain on the li-”

He pressed the red disconnect button and shoved his phone back in his pocket. The ravaged girl behind him stirred.

“Wha- where…?” She started pitifully.

He crouched down next to her. “You’ve got help coming, they’ll take good care of you, kid.” The brute softly ruffled her hair and caressed her tear stained cheek.

“Hel-p…?” She looked up at him with sad, distant eyes. There would be no getting through to her. He’d completely broken her- mind and body, and was weak from blood loss. It would take a long time for her to recover.

He felt a twinge of guilt ruining such an innocent girl, but was proud looking at his immoral masterpiece. “I have your scent memorized. Maybe one day I’ll find you again and mark you a second time. Would you like that? A matching pair of bite marks sounds good, don’t it?”

She winced and curled her body away from him.

Logan chuckled as he stood up. “Happy birthday, little rabbit." He said as he walked through the woods away from the path.

Thank you for reading! <3

#wolverine smut #wolverine one shot #logan howlett x oc #wolverine x oc #ao3 #my writing #fanfic #dark fic #dead dove do not eat #dead dove fic #logan howlett #primal kink #unwilling prey #tw noncon #no plot whatsoever #animalistic #hunting kink #fanfiction

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karespocketboyfriends · 2 months ago

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𝙵𝚕𝚘𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝙵𝚞𝚝𝚞𝚛𝚎

Sylus X Evie (OC)

Warnings -> Inspired by Sylus' 5* memory "Valleydream Bloom"

An original fan-fiction for Love and Deepspace. I appreciate reblogs but reposting to Tumblr or any other site is not okay with me.

Sylus has never been more at peace than he has in this moment. A crystal blue sky and a breeze, no danger for miles. The scent of flowers and lush grass tickling his skin, no need to look over his shoulder. The birds chirping and his wife singing next to him, no need for his guard to be up.

His eyes peel open, and the first thing he sees are the fluffy white clouds floating on by. His body feels light and refreshed. Did he fall asleep?

"Finally awake?"

His head turns slightly on his grassy pillow as he takes in the sight of his wife smiling down at him. Evie has changed over the past few years, as the human body does with age. Her caramel eyes are still bright with youth, but wiser. Her smile just as earth-shattering, but even more joyous. Her body still delicate, but a little more plump from motherhood. The only thing that's seemed to freeze in time is her hair, those long, mahogany locks falling down her back in subtle waves.

Sitting in her lap, cradled in her arms, is their thirteen month old son. A carbon copy of his mother, from her hair to her eyes, the roundness of his cheeks and her freckles. Evander babbles nonsense as he flips the thick, cardboard pages of the infant book his mother holds.

Evie's smile softens, the adoration in her eyes shining so brightly, it almost blinds him. "Sleep some more, if you'd like. You looked peaceful."

Sylus hums and sits up, the heaviness in his movement revealing just how deep his little nap went. "Where's-?"

"Dada!"

Their two year old daughter, who was playing in the grass on the other side of Sylus, turns to him. Sylvia is all her father, from the sharper angles of her face, her head of snowy white hair to her ruby red eyes. Still, Evie's freckles made it onto her cheeks, too.

"Dada!" She bounces on her bum while holding a big blue flower out to him. "Dada, flower!"

Sylus lifts her from beneath her small arms and sets her down on his thigh. He gently wraps his large hand around her tiny fist, holding her still so he can examine her offering. "That is a very pretty flower, my little dove."

She points at his head, and Sylus bends his neck until she's able to stuff it into the flower crown on top of his head.

Sylvia giggles and smacks her hands together. It's not the most coordinated clapping, but precious all the same. "Pretty, Dada! Pretty!"

Evander, influenced by his sister's excitement, squeals a laugh and flaps his arms.

Evie has a laugh of her own, one that dissolves into a few tears and a soft sob.

Sylus' eyes furrow as he angles his body towards her. "What is it?"

Looking up at him, Evie smiles and shakes her head. "I'm just so happy."

Relieved, Sylus flashes his own smile and leans over to kiss the top of her head. "As am I."

Sylus remains strong as his wife leans into him, their little hatchlings safe between them. There was a time when Sylus' head and heart were nothing but roars, when his breath was made of fire that was destined to destroy.

But here, in this flower field, his family sheltered by the stone skeleton of what appears to be a dragon, the one within him purrs.

#love and deepspace #l&ds #lads #lnds #l&ds sylus #lads sylus #lnds sylus #x oc

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thanksbutno98 · 9 months ago

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Bake Sale

John Price x wife!reader OC

Summary: John Price and Simon Riley accidentally find out their wives have met.

Warnings: Sexual themes, swearing, not edited.

Authors note: I loved writing this because the contrasts between Dove and Indy are finally on display. The eggo waffles are a complete self insert and if I lived in the UK I’d find a way to get them.

——————

“Lookin’ smart.” John’s raspy deep voice bellowed through the morning air as he caught sight of his son.

“You say that every morning.” Jj grumbled as he went to go sit at the kitchen table only to see there was no breakfast or you cooking in sight.

The young boy now ten was dressed in his new school uniform. He was in khaki trousers, a navy blue blazer with the school insignia, a white button up underneath, a maroon tie, and black loafers. Jj hated it, saying it made him feel like a ‘stuck up rich kid.’ You and John made good money but it went a lot faster than you two liked, leaving you far from ‘rich’ or ‘stuck up.’

You two were still paying off your mortgage and the monthly bills only seemed to grow more and more expensive as time passed and your family grew. Between all the sports and activities your children did you had to pay for daycare and now private school. That was on top of financially supporting your retired father. He brought in some money from the summer home he owned back in the states but it wasn’t enough to live on. So you and John supplemented his lack luster life style as a way to repay him for being a single father to you. It was also a promise you made to him before you left for university. Telling him you’d make enough money one day that neither of you would have to worry again. You always wanted to give him more but the stubborn man refused it, telling you it was your hard work and to spend it on the kids. Because if you forced him to take it he’d be spending it on his grandchildren anyway.

“No breakfast?” Jj looked at his father who was standing in front of the toaster.

John was dressed in blue jeans and a red crewneck with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His hair was still damp from his morning shower and facial hair neatly groomed. The sound of a metal pop shot three speckled waffles up from the shiny silver four slot toaster.

“Here.” John spoke as he took a bite of one of the golden once frozen waffles and threw the second in his son’s direction. Jj caught it with both hands and scowled down at it.

“Why do you always choose blueberry.” Jj grumbled before taking a bite and moving to grab a piece of fruit from the bowl in the center of the kitchen island.

“Blueberries the best flavor.” John spoke confidently as he popped in another set of three waffles. The last slot on the toaster never worked well so it was avoided by both you and John.

“Not true, chocolates the best.” Evelyn’s bright voice joined the conversation as she slid into the kitchen on her socked feet.

Without warning John threw the third waffle like a frisbee at his middle child who swiftly caught it in one hand. She was a very coordinated little girl who made most physical activities look easy, because they were for her. It annoyed her brother immensely who had inherited your clumsiness. She happily chomped down on the crispy waffles and joined Jj in picking out their preferred fruit for breakfast. Jj grabbed a banana while Evelyn snagged the last orange.

“Wrong! The right answer is the French toast sticks.” Jj chimed getting an approving hum from both his sister and father.

“You can thank your mum for somehow getting these here.” John handed out the next batch of waffles which were quickly eaten.

“You can actually thank your grandpa cuz he’s the one who gets them.” Your sweet voice joined in as you rounded the corner and entered the kitchen.

John’s already cheery mood only intensified at the sight of you. He thought you were the most gorgeous woman to grace his presence each and everyday he laid eyes on you.

“Why?” Evelyn asked with her head cocked to the side.

“Because your mum grew up on these and still to this day loves them.” John informed the little girl as he handed you your preferred flavor which everyone in the house knew was off limits.

“You’re spoiling all of us, breaking these out.” You waved your favorite Eggo toaster product in John’s face and took a bite.

“These are for special occasions.” You added before holding the food in your mouth while you fixed yourself a cup of coffee.

John crowed into your space, his chest lightly bumping into your back. His strong muscular arms were hovering around you as he poured your milk into the mug and the left a kiss to your cheek that lasted a second longer than usual. His sweetness had you wondering if you forgot today was a special day or something. Taking the morning treat out of your mouth you placed it on the white marble counter.

“Happy birth-iversary?” You spoke in a hesitant tone and looked up and over your shoulder into John’s cool blue eyes. His body was so close to you with only a centimeter separating you as his warmth radiated off of him and heated your skin. You could smell his woodsy cologne and after shave making your hair stand on end. It was all suffocating and had you craving to bury yourself in its intoxicating glow.

“It’s the day I asked you to be my girlfriend.” John spoke softly with past memories dancing in his eyes. It amazed you how he remembered a date from years ago that seemed insignificant now.

“Happy day you pulled your head out of your ass.” Your retorted with a cheeky smile. John chuckled deeply before kissing your temple and turning back to your children.

“Wait you were daddy’s girlfriend?” Evelyn asked having clearly overheard you.

“What do you mean?” John asked, amused and perplexed his daughter didn’t realize you two dated.

“Mums your wife. Hasn’t she always been?” The gears were turning in both your kids heads as they contemplated this concept. Even Jj was confused having never thought about his mom and dad not being parents.

“She started as a ‘friend’.” John gave you a cheeky wink alluding to the fact you started as friends with benefits. You two would never tell your children that, even when they were all grown up it would be something you and John kept between yourselves.

“Then became my girlfriend, and after that she became my wife.” It wasn’t something John realized needed explaining. It was the simple progression to romantic relationships but his children had never thought about it.

“Cuz you asked her?” Jj stared at John waiting for a response.

“Yes, because I asked her and she said yes.” With a smile John wrapped his arm around you and tucked you under his burly arm. With a squeeze and kiss to the top of your head you smiled widely into your coffee mug.

“Then you had sex and made Jj? Because only mummy’s and daddy’s do that.” Evelyn’s dry question had you sputtering into your coffee and John sucking in a shocked breath until the point he started coughing.

John asked that you make it crystal clear in your birds and bees talk with Evelyn that you tell her it’s after two people are married. He had done the same for Jj as he felt it important to. Now did he practice this in his own adult life? No. But he didn’t care. No one was putting their hands on his daughter even after marriage if he anything to do with it. John often told you Evelyn would become a nun which usually got a massive eye roll from you.

“EVIE!! EW!!” Jj shouted at his little sister.

“What!? That’s how babies are made! That’s how Lily got made, what makes you any different!?” Evelyn shrieked right back. Sharing a look you and John both silently decided to not get involved in this. It was too early in the morning.

“Yes, then there was the honeymoon where we made your brother.” You mumbled for only John to hear. The cheeky response had him chuckling as his mind was flooded with the memories of those days spent wrapped up in one another.

“Okay, enough of that talk. Evie come with me, I’m taking you to school. Jj you’re with mum and help her bring the pies for the bake sale.” With a clap of John’s hands everyone dispersed and were off to their commitments of the day. There were a few sharp verbal jabs between Jj and Evelyn that were ignored.

“Wait! Where’s Lily?”

“Daycare.”

——————

“Mrs. Price, it’s nice of you to join us!”

“Happy to be here.” You smiled brightly at the head master passing by. You looked around the room of other parents and felt a sense of nervousness and anxiety creep up your spine.

You had just dropped your son off at his classroom and made your way down here to where school events were normally held. Jj brushed you off when the kids in his classroom caught sight of you, barely giving you a goodbye. But thirty seconds before that when no one could see him he had given you a hug and told you he loved you. So you knew he was just trying to act cool which you found adorable. It was very similar to how his father acted when you visited base. As long as no one could see he’d be as sweet as pie but then pretend he hardly knew you in front of others.

Today was your first bake sale at your son’s new school. He had been bullied out of his last one and you and John had decided private school would be a better fit. It would be stretching your budget in a way you hadn’t prepared for and had left you and John with deep rooted anxiety. Neither of you grew up with money and you could spiral in moments like this. You knew you could swing it but felt that maybe you should be sending all your kids to private school which would cost a small fortune.

It was intimidating coming into a new school and meeting the other involved parents. At Jj’s last school it went well for the most part except there were a few dads both married and single who fancied you. You were hoping to blend in this time and stick to making female friends as your own form of self preservation.

John had joked you should show up in sweats and his hoodie as a deterrent but that wasn’t going to happen when you had to get to work after this. You were dressed in black slacks, a nice grey fitted long sleeve, black booted heels, with a maroon rain coat that hung open. You had thrown your hair into a braid and done subtle makeup for work. In the large bags you carried, you had the desserts you prepared, for what now seemed to be a daunting bake sale.

The rectangular room you had entered was what looked to be a large function hall. The floors were hardwood and the grand windows that lined the wall had large maroon drapes. There were tables lining the walls, that stopped halfway into the room, covered in nice white table clothes with different baked goods. There were even little silver stands in front of the goodies with the name of the dessert, the person who had baked it, and year their children were in.

On the other half of the hall were children’s activities like face paint, bingo, board games and more. The last school was a sorry excuse compared to this. They had actual activities here for the kids instead of letting them run wild. You glanced around the room that was still preparing to open its doors for the sale this evening.

“You look lost.” A sweet voice came from a few yards away.

Turning you saw a very attractive woman with a charming smile and natural confidence that radiated off of her. She was dressed in jeans, rain boots, and a pretty lavender sweater.

“Yeah, my son just started here so it’s our first bake sale.” You smiled politely, thankful someone who you assumed to be another parent was here to help you.

“I’m Dove, my two oldest go here.” With an outstretched hand you happily shook hands with who you would hope to be your first friend here.

“Oldest! I thought my husband and I were the only ones brave enough these days to have more than two.” You playfully joked.

You were finding it less and less common to come across big families. But it made sense you had one. John was one of four and if things hadn’t gone poorly for your health with Lily you and John both knew you would have had one more.

“We’re so brave we’re thinking about trying for a fourth.” Dove grinned, rolling with your infectious playful nature.

She loved knowing there was another big family at this school of mainly only children. It would also be nice if you were down to earth so her daughters could hopefully have some friends who weren’t stuck up. She didn’t make the most money so it cost every penny to send the girls here and some snobs avoided her due to her financial situation. She couldn’t do big fancy holidays and trips abroad multiple times a year like most families here could.

“That’s so exciting, four is a great number! My husband and I have three and our youngest is so much younger than her siblings we sometimes think she needs a sibling close in age.” It was wonderful to be hitting it off with another mom. It felt like small talk was taboo at times here so this was refreshing.

“Yeah, we’ve got three girls. Mel is 12, Fae’s 6, Grace 4. The age gap is actually amazing. My oldest adores her little sisters.” She seemed so proud to rattle off her kids names and ages, it made you instantly like her.

A lot of parents you met sounded annoyed about their children but Dove seemed proud. She was reassuring you that three was a good number and an age gap wasn’t enough to keep siblings from being close.

“Your husband’s good a cranking out girls.” You hoped the crude joke landed well and it did.

Dove loudly snorted and then laughed, she loved a good naughty joke. For her it was hilarious because she knew if Simon were here to hear someone say that he’d have some choice words. She also instantly liked you. You were charming and friendly unlike a lot of the parents Dove had the misfortune of meeting here. There were so many snobs and you didn’t come across that way at all. The only thing odd about you was the fact you were the only American amongst the entire school.

“He’d crank out a lot more if I let him. How old are yours?” Dove was still lightly laughing as she asked about your own children.

“Preachin’ to the choir. Jj’s 10, then theres Evie, she’s 8. Our youngest Lily is two.” You shared.

“Your daughter doesn’t go here?” Dove asked a bit surprised to hear only one of your children were in private school.

“No, I think she’d freak out if we moved her to private school away from her friends. We would never hear the end of it.” You laughed awkwardly trying to not make your daughter sound like she was as much trouble as she truly was. You also hoped it didn’t make you look bad to only put one child in private school, like you were playing favorites.

“Fae was like that. Lost her shit. Caused so much trouble at home and in class, so I understand where you’re coming from.” The lighthearted tone Dove used did not reflect the chaos her daughter caused. It almost wound up with Fae expelled and Simon about lost his mind and that set her straight. It usually took Simon shouting his head off for Fae to fall in line to Doves absolute dismay.

“That’s what we’re trying to avoid with Evie. She can be intense sometimes.” You laughed awkwardly thinking back to Evelyn threatening you and John about switching her school. She told John she’d never speak to him again and then told you she’d get into so much trouble they’d kick her out. It didn’t end well. John and Evelyn got into a massive fight that ended with Evelyn eating dinner in her room and John gettin side eyed by you all dinner.

“And your youngest? Plan on sending her to private school?” Dove asked. She was curious if that was in the cards because it was incredibly expensive to do so. She spent almost all of their money on schooling for her kids and part of her hoped you’d let slip it’s expensive. That way she could have a fellow parent she could finally relate to.

“Probably, she’s still so little though.” You smiled politely.

“Oops baby?” Dove playfully asked.

“Yup, we can blame my husband for that one.” You snickered.

“I think we can blame a lot more on our husbands if we try.” She whispered giving you a playful nudge with her elbow.

“Sounds like a plan.” With a laugh Dove nodded with her head towards the tables covered in baked goods.

“Let me show you where you can put those. They have everything sectioned off by year. I’m over here so yours can go next to mine actually.” Dove waved you to follow her and you did.

She tapped her finger in front of what she brought on the table next to what would be your son’s class year. You looked to see what her last name was so you could keep an eye out for it down the line. In pretty cursive handwriting it read Meadows and she had made cake pops.

“Awesome, where do I get one of those labels?” You asked looking around.

“I’ll grab you one wait here.” Dove walked off to go grab a little silver stand and white card.

You couldn’t help but look over the purple and orange cake pops with circular silver sprinkles. They looked a mess which was actually endearing because you assumed her kids had decorated them. The color choice also screamed ‘Halloween’ which was a bit odd this early in the year.

“Here.” Giving you a kind smile Dove handed you the placard and card.

“Thanks.” Smiling politely you placed the bag you were carrying on the table and fished out your baked goods.

You were new here so you put in way too much effort to impress. John didn’t complain what so ever as you gave him all the rejected sweets and he ate them while you decorated. You had made mini apple pies with delicate lattice work and a perfect swirl of homemade whipped cream in the center of each. You had decorated them with a piece of flat hardened caramel beautifully stuck into the whipped cream. It made the humble apple pie appear elegant.

Living in the UK desserts like good old fashion American apple pie were hard to find. So you thought this would be a good way to show that your son was half American while also getting to show off. John told you that you needed to lighten up and stop being a perfectionist and over achiever; but you couldn’t help it.

“Holy shit, you can bake.” Dove scoffed and then looked at her pitiful cake pops she spent so much time decorating.

It looked like she let her kids at them instead of a fully grown adult. She sighed defeatedly realizing this would be the second bake sale no one bought her treats, especially because they’d be sitting next to yours. People always bought Simons which drove her mad. At the very least she knew they tasted good.

“Been a hobby for a while. My sister in law owns a bakery and taught me how to bake and decorate desserts so I kinda have a leg up.” You tried to play it off but you were eating up the compliment.

Internally celebrating Eloise, your sister in law, for the countless baking lessons when you first married John. You were a self taught cook but baking did not come easy and you’d honed those skills through the years. John never once complained besides that you were making him gain weight.

“Wish cooking or baking could be a hobby of mine. I leave my husband to do most of that stuff. But he’s busy with work so I made his damn cake pops instead.” Dove felt a little embarrassed at her craftsmanship especially when it was sitting next to yours.

You tried to keep a straight face now hearing that Dove had decorated these and not her kids. It honestly wasn’t that bad, it was the same thing as if John asked you to do any outside project. You weren’t even sure you could hold a hammer the right way without hurting yourself or others. So you knew there had to be something Dove could out do you in. Little did you know it was mostly everything you were horrible at because of your clumsiness while Dove could fix a damn helicopter engine if needed.

“Wish my husband cooked. He orders takeaway whenever it’s his turn to do dinner.” You mumbled.

John was completely inept in the kitchen. He had always been but at someone point you had taken over the cooking completely because you were tired of the toss up between burnt or raw food. He made a great simple breakfast you could give him that.

“Guess I’m spoiled then! My husband isn’t an amazing cook but he’s got a few recipes up his sleeve. He’s actually got this one from his bosses wife for lasagna that’s to die for!” Dove could eat that lasagna every night if Simon made it.

Little did either of you know the recipe she had mentioned was actually your own. You had never given it to Simon but he sneakily took a picture of it from your recipe book when he was alone in your kitchen. He had actually stollen a few of your recipes because he was too proud to ask for them.

“That’s one of my kids favorites!” You laughed as you wrote down your last name, dessert name and placed the card into its holder in front of your display of 40 mini apple pies.

“Price.” Dove hummed, head cocking to the side.

Her mind instantly shot to Captain John Price, a man she had served with. But the odds of this being the same Price was slim, it was a common last name. Dove would know if Price had a kid at this school, John would have mentioned it when he last stopped by to have a drink with Simon.

“Well, thanks so much Dove! I gotta get going I have work.” You smiled politely and gave a nod.

“Of course. Where do you work?” Dove knew John Price’s wife worked at some fancy institution for scientists. Her name was also not Indy so she assumed you couldn’t be who she thought you were. Price commonly called you ‘so smart she’s scary’ so Dove always assumed his wife did some mind boggling research. This would let her know if you were in fact the Price you could be.

“A museum.” You smiled.

Nope, not Price’s wife, Dove concluded. The name didn’t match up or the profession. But still it itched at the back of her mind.

“That’s interesting! I do some boring office job that pays the bills.” Dove shrugged giving you the answer to the question she knew was coming.

“Better than what my husband does. But I do have to get going. It was nice meeting you.”

“Nice to meet you too Indy!”

——————

“What?” John asked choking on his beer.

You two were standing in the kitchen having a chat and sharing a drink. John was on his second beer and you were just pouring your second glass of wine. The two of you had been so busy this was your first real chance to catch up on each others day.

“Mel Meadows? She’s two years older than Jj I didn’t know if he ever mentioned her to you.” You looked back at your husband confused by the strong reaction.

“Uh, no I don’t think Jj’s mentioned anyone with that name.” John felt shell shocked to hear Melody’s name come out of your mouth. She was Doves oldest that Simon had adopted and taken in as his own.

“Yeah met her mum today. Her names Dove, shes pretty cool I could see us being friends. Kicking myself for not getting her number.” Turning you swore your husband was starting to turn red as if he were holding his breath.

“What is going on with you?” You asked John who was doing a horrible job at keeping a poker face.

John was floored that he didn’t realize his son was now attending the same private school as Simon Riley’s kids. He couldn’t tell you that was Simon’s wife you met or that ‘Dove’ was actually a nickname he himself had coined back for her when they served together. Part of John wanted to tell you because he admired Dove greatly and got along with her amazingly well. Besides you she was capable of getting him to goof around which was why John knew all of her children so well. John had promised Simon to never tell anyone about his family life; you included. The only reason John was so involved with Simon’s kids was because of Dove. She’d looked up to John while they served together and the two trusted each other like he did the other members of 141. It felt like second nature to her to have a man like John as an Uncle for her kids since her and Simon didn’t have any living siblings.

“I thought you said Melissa Meadows.” John lied. He chose a lie with a bit of truth in it so you wouldn’t catch on.

“Who’s that?” You asked completely falling for John’s fib.

“A girl I dated before I met you.” It was the truth that John dated a woman named Melissa Meadows but she had nothing to do with the situation.

“You? Dating? Thought you just fucked around.” You joked at your husband expense.

“You weren’t a saint yourself.” John shot back. You gave him a kiss to his cheek while he grabbed a handful of your ass.

The two of you both snickered having left the hurt and insecurities of your younger selves behind long ago. It was something you could both playfully job at the other for because no matter who came before it was you two now and had been for over a decade.

The sound of someone pulling up your drive way caught your attention. Looking out the window on the side of your house you saw Simons large black truck pulling onto the makeshift parking spot in the grass of your yard.

“Simons here.” You looked back at John confused.

“Yeah, did I not tell you he was stopping by?” Again, John lied and you were none the wiser.

“I think I would remember if Simon was coming over. I would’ve cooked him something.” With a raised eyebrow you looked at John, your eyes picking him apart. He never surprised you with guests he normally told you days in advance.

“I must’ve forgotten. I’m sorry, darling.” John was already making his way toward you. Giving you a quick peck to the lips he opened the fridge and grabbed another glass beer bottle. Using his wedding band he popped the top off.

“I can make something quick. There’s leftover steak so I’ll do cheese steak subs?” You asked already rummaging through your pantry.

“That’s perfect. Thank you.” John gave you a swift swat to the ass seeing you bent over searching for something in the pantry. He paused for a second actually mulling over what you said. Yes, he had already eaten dinner but it had been ages since you made something as indulgent as what he thought was the staple American sandwich. (It wasn’t)

“Make me one too please.” John added before grabbing his own beer off the kitchen island then swiftly slid on his sneakers and made his way out onto the back patio.

“Simon.” John nodded and with an outstretched arm offering him the freshly opened beer.

“Our wives met.” Simon spoke matter of factly. He grabbed the beer and drank half of it in one go his large Adams apple bobbing in the patio light.

“Just found out.” John sighed, taking a swig of his almost empty beer.

“You tell her?” It was obvious how irritated Ghost was and just the idea of John saying he did pissed him off. Simon had become so agitated at this discovery he came straight over.

“No. She has no clue. But she’s smart she’ll figure it out the next time they bump into each other.” John knew there was no more keeping you and Dove apart. It had come time where you found out Simon Riley was married with three kids. Quite frankly he was astounded it had been successfully kept form you this long.

“Fuck.” Simon breathed out.

“Don’t know how Dove didn’t put two and two together, she’s quick as a whip. She knows Y/N name it’s not like I don’t mention her.” John was truly confused as he knew Dove as an observant woman who tended to pick up on the smallest details.

“Y/N introduced herself as Indy. Dove, said she thought for a second she met the infamous Mrs. Price at a bake sale today but she had a different first name. Also said the reason she knew it wasn’t her was because this woman worked at a museum not some institute.” Simon purposefully left out the part where Dove really thought for a second she’d met Price’s wife because you were ‘hot.’

“Who would’ve thought the career change would have saved your ass.” John joked.

“Piss off. Dove also said she was too pretty for an old man like you.” Simon snapped. It was more out of frustration that this could no longer be avoided. He knew his wife would be all over you and scolding Simon for being a ‘control freak.’

Dove in fact did not say that. She told Simon that you seemed like Price’s type but there was no way he’d end up with an American. Dove commented on how beautiful she found this new mom at their kids school. And in typical fashion going as far to tell Simon he might have some competition and saying you should be the one to ‘knock her up.’ The internal war that raged inside him that his wife was crushing on Price’s wife was volatile. The woman, that drove him mad and he found completely and utterly invasive was catching the eye of Simons very own wife.

“No she didn’t.” John saw right through the lie meant to hurt his ego.

John knew Dove thought highly of him and would never take a cheap shot like that. That was more Simon. Plus John had mentioned how absolutely gorgeous you are to Dove once or twice. She liked to joke that of course Price needed a hot wife, he was allowed more than just his cigars as a vice. Whenever Dove asked Simon if you were as pretty as Price said he would always call you insufferable and not give her a straight answer. To Dove that meant you had to be gorgeous.

“We should tell them.” John pushed.

Simon had tried to keep his family private from you. But to John he saw it as such sad outcome. Knowing you, you would shower his kids with love and affection and be a lovely asset to the Riley family. John already knew if you found out tonight the woman you met was Simons wife you would be sending him home with some sweet gesture and invitation for dinner.

“Fine.” Simon grunted and followed Price inside. John was surprised at how easy Ghost submitted to the idea but it was clear to both men there was no more avoiding this. Better to rip the bandaid off.

“Hey, Simon. Hungry?” You spoke sweetly seeing the hulking man enter your home. No matter how many times you saw him it still astounded you how much space he took up. He looked angry like usual but he seemed more on edge than you were use to.

Jj had come running for the kitchen when he smelled what you were making. He was sitting at the kitchen island eating his steak and cheese sub and kicking his feet happily in his chair. Simons foul mood faltered for a second at the smell of steak and seeing a large sub sandwich he’d never tried before.

“What is it?” Simon asked. Approaching the island he looked down and saw a sub with cheese melted over steak and a bowl of peppers and onions sitting next to it.

“Philly cheese steak. You can add peppers and onion is you want.” You smiled and handed John his own.

John didn’t hesitate to dig in. It was his second dinner but he always had room for more. He would just have to go on an extra long run and hit the gym twice as hard this week.

“So do you know her?” You asked your son picking up the conversation where you two left off.

“Yeah, she’s two years older than me. All the boys like her cuz she’s pretty.” Jj paused to take another bite before speaking again.

“She’s the one who gave me a tour my first day. That’s all I know.” Jj seemed more concerned about his food than the conversation.

“Pretty?” You giggled as you asked. Your son thinking a girl was pretty was the cutest thing to you because he was still young and innocent.

“Yeah, she’s got pretty green eyes and she’s really funny.” Jj seemed a little stary eyed as he spoke.

“Who?” Simons spidey senses were tingling and he was on guard about who Jj might be talking about.

John stopped mid chew and stared blankly at his son. This wasn’t good. No man like Simon or himself wanted to hear from anyone else’s son how pretty their daughter was. Even if it was true it was instantly uncomfortable and had a father feeling protective.

“Mel Meadows. This girl at my new school.” Jj spoke as he normally did to Simon not realizing the land mine he’d just stepped on.

“Stay away from her!” Simon barked. Jj jumped and so did you at the sudden outburst.

“Easy there.” Johns voice dropped to its lowest octave as he warned Ghost. He understood what Simon was feeling but Jj hadn’t done anything wrong and John wasn’t about to allow someone to reprimand his son in front of him.

“Watch it!” Your voice was stern and you whipped around to death stare Simon. John swore he could see fire bursting from your eyes and he was sure in that moment you’d berate Simon before John got the chance.

No one was allowed to bark at your son like that, not you, not your husband, and especially not Simon. Simon and your eyes met and John felt as if lightning struck as you both shared volatile stares. The tension between you and Ghost was electric. You didn’t find him scary and you might lose but you’d still attempt to kick his ass or better yet get John to do it for you.

“Mel’s my daughter.” Simon spoke through gritted teeth.

The anger you felt evaporated and confusion washed over your face. You blinked a few times mind going completely blank. That meant that Dove, and Simon were-

“So that means Fae is too?! Why do they have different last names?” Jj asked his prior fear fading away after his parents so quickly jumped to his defense. Simon decided he’d ignore the last name question as that was a different can of worms.

“You. Simon Riley. Are. . . Married?” The disbelief was evident on your face and in your voice. Simon found it offensive which added to the irritation.

Never in your wildest dreams would you have guessed this. The man you saw as rude, crude, and unpleasant was married. What was even more confusing was he was married to Dove, the woman you met this morning. It didn’t make sense for you. She was pleasant, funny, charming, and drop dead gorgeous. You couldn’t wrap your head around them being a couple.

“Yes.” Simon still seemed pissed off.

“So, Dove. She’s your wife?” You asked the same question in different words, feeling completely blindsided. Your son also had a point, the name written down at the bake sale wasn’t Riley, it was Meadows. You were assuming that must be Dove’s maiden name. But why give it to only one of their girls?

“Yes.” Another curt one word response.

“Three daughters?” You asked trying to gather your thoughts.

“Yes.” Simon was giving you nothing and you found it infuriating.

“And you’re trying for a fourth?” You asked trying to get a rise out of the man. It was your own shot at him for being an ass to your son. Simons nostrils flared and he looked like he was ready to start smashing things. (more than just his wife)

John had been eating this entire time watching everything unfold. His eyebrows shot up hearing about Dove wanting another baby, that was something he didn’t even know. Yet of course his darling wife had somehow found out which wasn’t too surprising to John.

“God damn it, dove.” Simon looked down at his plate completely frustrated by his wife’s big mouth. The fact that you of all people knew he and his wife were trying for a baby only proved why he called you invasive.

“Like a baby?” Jj asked wide eyed.

It made John chuckle as his son intently stared him in the eyes and then mouthed the word ‘sex?’ John shrugged and tossed his hands up. It was a call back to their conversation that very morning. He found it hysterical his boy made that leap of logic and felt it necessary to confirm with John.

“You cook!? And bake!?” That seemed to hit you the hardest.

For some reason it never occurred to you Simon cooked for himself, you assumed he lived off takeaway like John would. Having a wife and kids was shocking but knowing he cooked and baked for his entire family for some reason had you floored. Imaging the big intimidating Ghost in an apron and oven mitts made him a lot less scary. Part of you felt as if he would be to proud to use oven mitts and would use his bare hands to pull things from the oven. You knew this wasn’t possible, but again, Simon using oven mitts was not something you could envision.

“Someone has to.” Simon spoke begrudgingly.

“Do you-“

“Enough with the questions.” Simon barked at you. John cast a sharp look in his direction that had Ghosts temper simmering.

“Fine, a few more then I’m leaving.” Simon grumbled not willing to piss off Price.

The man was a force to be reckoned with and Simon couldn’t deny that. The last thing he wanted was for Price to fly off the handle because he was defending his wife. It would most likely wind up with Price beating him with one of the stools at the kitchen island if he continued to be disrespectful.

“Why not tell us? I would’ve been getting your kids gifts for holidays and their birthdays. Could’ve helped send meals to Dove or had them over while you and John are deployed. Ya know support each other as military wives should.” Your response had Simon stiffening.

He hadn’t thought about it that way. He had only thought about the negatives you would bring. Of course you would have done anything in your power to be sweet to his wife and kids. Part of him felt guilty for depriving them of that for so long considering he had no family and Doves wasn’t large either.

“Same reasons Price keeps it to himself.” You cast a sympathetic look to your husband thinking he too was just finding out this information. That’s why he was staying so quiet and letting you ask the questions and he’d ask his own later.

“Fair enough.” You mumbled before asking your next question.

“Can I send you home with a pie? I just baked it, so it’s fresh.” You pointed to the cherry pie sitting on your kitchen counter near the pantry and in front of a slightly ajar window where it had sat to cool.

“Oi, you made that for me!” John looked like you had stollen from him. His jaw was dropped and you had to admit his anger was pretty cute on his mutton chopped face; especially with crumbs in his beard and a smudge of cheese on his chin.

“Settle down I can make another.” You playfully scoffed before grabbing a napkin and trying to clean your husband’s messy face.

John snatched the napkin and did it himself. He was throughly disappointed he couldn’t have a slice of pie before bed tonight. Although with the amount of food he was consuming he should probably skip it.

“I’ll take the pie.” Simon mumbled around his food as he began to house the sub sandwich.

Jj watched in awe as Ghost inhaled the food at an inhuman rate. His eyes kept glancing between the other half of his sub and Simon, wondering how the man fit so much food in his mouth. Once Jj looked to his father John pointed at Jj’s food and mouthed ‘are you going to finish that?’ Shaking his head ‘no’ Jj slid hit plate across the kitchen island and John happily dug in.

You had been busy packaging up the pie for Simon to take home. You had grabbed a little white card from the desk in the corner of the kitchen and began to write a note for Dove. It wasn’t anything but an invitation to come for dinner and your phone number to get in touch.

“So do the girls embrace the whole Ghost persona or does it frighten them?” You asked, back turned and taping the note to the top of the plastic covered pie.

“Embrace it. I’m the best at chasing off monsters in the closet.” The decision to share came unexpectedly to not only you and but also Simon.

Maybe he did like your questions. He adored his little girls and could talk about them endlessly to his wife because he knew she legitimately cared. Deep down Simon knew you genuinely cared too so maybe that’s why it felt good and easy to tell you about his little girls.

“How did you and Dove meet?” Part of you felt that the questions were becoming a lot but you couldn’t help yourself.

“She was a helicopter pilot. Saved me and Price countless times. Was a pain in my ass back then and still is today.” Simon spoke with his mouth full.

“Wait! You knew, John!?” You turned to your husband so fast he choked on his food.

“Why. Didn’t. You. Tell. Me.” You took a near by oven mitt and hit John on the shoulder with it on every word. He watched you throw your mini tantrum being somewhat scared of your strong reaction.

“‘Course I knew! Couldn’t tell you tho!” John frantically defended himself with a mouth full of food. That’s the look you gave him before you told him to sleep on the couch.

“We have so many birthdays to make up for!” You hissed at John.

John’s defensiveness faded fast and was replaced by a warmth in his chest that was spreading throughout his body. Of course that’s what you were concerned about. Showing up for people was such an important thing for you. Taking the time and putting in the effort with no thanks expected was how you showed love. Even not knowing Simons children or even his wife for more than a few minutes you cared about Simon enough to want to show up for his family. And that was one of the reasons John adored you so much.

“I get them birthday and Christmas present don’t you worry.” Running his hand down your back John smiled at you softly hoping you would settle down.

“Oh god! You probably showed up with toy guns or slingshots!” Your guesses were spot on. John had absolutely bought both of those things for the girls.

“They loved them.” Simon interrupted your tirade.

——————

“WAIT!?” Doves voice echoed through her first floor.

With a deep breath and heavy sigh Simon rounded the corner into the kitchen with his four year old Grace in his arms. Grace had her arms wrapped around Simon’s thick neck, eyes droopy, and still half asleep.

“You liar!” Dove whipped around and pointed her finger in Simon’s unflinching face. He went to bite it but it was quickly retracted and used to poke him in the stomach. Her finger crumpled against the rippled muscles of his abdomen and she ended up having to shake her hand out from the dull pain.

In her hand was the small white card you had written her the night before. Looking from the card to the cherry pie Simon saw a few bites unceremoniously taken from it and traces of crumbs on his wife’s pretty lips.

“Had to take a taste first?” Simon flirted with a devilish smile. His left hand coming up and seductively swiping over her plump bottom lip. He was quickly swatted away like a pesky fly hanging in the air too long.

“I want pie for breakfast.” Grace mumbled and pointed to the crimson pie on the counter.

“I knew it! I had a hunch she was Price’s wife and I let your dumb ass trick me.” Shoving the note in Simons face he quickly batted his wife away like she had done to him.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. Well now you know.” Brushing Dove off Simon made his way to the round kitchen table and plopped his youngest daughter down. He then knocked on the window and waved for Fae his middle child who was 6 to come inside and stop playing around in the rain.

“I bought five of her apple pies from the bake sale.” Dove mumbled as she read over the note again.

“Eggs or cereal, Grace?” Simons deep voice grunted as he went to fish through the fridge to make breakfast. He noticed the mini apples pies neatly stacked in the fridge with a note that read ‘one each.’ Simon was absolutely going to eat Doves if she didn’t get to it by this evening. Knowing you were the one to bake it meant it was going to be divine.

“No. Pie.” The four year old countered.

“We aren’t having pie for breakfast.” The mumbled words were ignored. Picking up the elegant mini pie Simon looked it over carefully. It looked delicious. Maybe pie wasn’t a bad choice for breakfast.

“Mummy did.” Grace said in the sweetest voice.

“Let them have pie. It’s not the end of the world.” Without looking for approval from her husband Dove was bringing the cherry pie over to the kitchen table with plates, silverware, and a knife to cut it.

“Pie for breakfast!? Fuck, yeah!” Fae cheered as she came in through the back door adjacent to the kitchen table. The young girls language had Simon snickering and shooting a cheeky wink her way. She slid out of her drenched rain coat and boots and bounded for the kitchen table.

“Language.” Dove warned, tongue peaking out from the corner of her mouth as she concentrated on cutting the pie. Placing the mini pie back in the fridge Simon went over to watch Dove slice up the pie, hoping she’d give him an extra large piece.

“I’ll take that much.” Simon motion with his finger at the pie to show how much he wanted.

“That’s half the bloody pie! You get one slice like the rest of us.” Dove knocked her hip into Simon thigh playfully. Without notice from the girls Simon had palmed a half full of her ass.

“Did you buy it from the store? It’s yummy.” Grace’s face had red jam like pie filling smeared across her mouth and a wide toothy grin also tinted ruby.

“Uncle John’s wife made it.” Dove smirked now having a face to put a name to.

“She should make more.” Fae spoke as she shoveled her pie into her mouth. She was so much like her father. Looks, mannerism, snarky attitude, smart mouth, and most of all her food preference. She could live off protein and sweets if you let her.

“Are we seriously having pie for breakfast?” The oldest of the Riley girls interjected as she walked up to the kitchen table. Like everyone else she was still in her pajamas.

“It was your mums idea.” Simon spoke around his spoon and finally sat down at the kitchen table between Fae and Grace.

“Heard you met Price’s boy.” Nodding at Mel her face went a bit confused until she realized what Simon was talking about. Both Simon and Dove thought Mel wouldn’t have made the connection.

“Oh, Jj!? Yeah he’s a cutie!” Taking her seat Mel smirked as she thought about the blue eyed boy two years younger than her. Simon and Dove shared a shocked look that Mel was the first to figure this out before any adult caught on. Although it showed she was equally as observant as both her parents.

“A cutie!?” It was hard to stop the half yell Simon barked out at Mel’s description of the Price boy.

“Wait how’d you figure it out?” Dove asked feeling proud her daughter had caught on before she even had.

“Yeah. Looks just like Uncle John so it was obvious who he was. He’s funny. Really funny actually. He’s tall too, seems like he’s more my age.” Mel was quite a fan of the ten year old boy.

He was one of the few boys in his year that didn’t snicker and gawk at the girls in Mels grade. Her grade was the oldest in the school and after this year she would be moving up to secondary school which scared her. She would be the one gawking at the older boys soon enough.

“Poor kid, lookin like his dad.” The joke had all the women in Simons life stopping on the spot and giving him a dirty look.

“That wasn’t very nice!” Grace shoved her pie covered finger in Simon’s face not appreciating the meanness.

“Woooow, Simon. With a face like yours you’re gonna say that?” Mel added.

“Uncle John’s beard is nice.” Fae tried to defend the man.

“Really, Simon. Grow up.” Dove scolded him and lightly smacked the back of his hand.

With a deadpan expression all the girls comments went in one ear and out the other as he continued to eat. This was a typical morning where Simon would say one thing wrong and everyone would jump down his throat. He’d learned to tune it out instead of inspect his behavior.

“I texted Indy. We’ll be going over in a couple weeks for dinner.” With a kiss to the top of Simon’s head Dove tried to walk away. Simon’s arm looped around her waist and pulled her onto his lap and forced her to stay put.

“Stay. Eat.” Simon pushed the half eaten pie toward his giggling wife.

He hated this. Hated that Indy was about to invade his family life. This was his little slice of heaven that he had no intention on expanding; outside of one more baby. The only comfort he could find in this moment was having Dove sat in his lap while his daughters chatted away. It would be better if he pushed aside the impending meet up and focused on his family.

Today would be peaceful and good, Simon convinced himself as Dove fed him a bite of pie. And if it wasn’t he had something to look forward to tonight since today was ‘baby making day’ as Dove so eloquently put it.

~~~~~tag list~~~~~

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tightjeansjavi · 8 months ago

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Et Auream - Act IV : The Girl

A/N: I just want to start off by saying that for this chapter and the next, please heed the warnings. Also, I have included one historical inaccuracy regarding the reasoning for Marcus to tell Aurelia his first name. His reasoning was because only those who were worthy could know a gladiators true identity, and since she is about to save his life, he feels that she is worthy. Historically, roman male citizens had three names: first name, family name and nickname. It would be seen as too intimate or disrespectful to address a male citizen by their first name (typically only if this male citizen was an emperor or someone in power). This is why Geta, Caracalla and others refer to Marcus as Acacius. Aurelia is the only one who has been granted the privilege to call him Marcus (thus far) Thank you to @sinsofsummer for betaing as always <3 word count: 4.9k Summary: Marcus opens up about his past to Aurelia, but does not divulge further than what he is comfortable with. Time is forever fleeting, but he hopes that their meeting will not be a one time occurrence. Pairing | Marcus Acacius x f!oc Warnings: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT! This chapter includes SA of a minor (not by Marcus) loss of virginity, hyper sexuality as a result of SA, slight stockholm syndrome (if you squint) sexual enslavement, domestic abuse, canon typical violence, angst, misogyny, minor character death, language, +18 minors dni! If I have missed anything, please let me know! series masterlist

When Aurelia was just a little girl, and the world was bright, shiny, and new to her innocent eyes, she begged her parents for a horse of her very own. A beautiful ivory mare, or a sunburnt black stallion. She was too young to understand the pecking order in society, too naive to recognize that her family was not blessed with riches from the gods above. No, her parents were poor common folk; farmers whose only duties were to produce enough crops to feed Rome and her noble pupils. She didn’t understand the means of power, wealth, and status.

Her parents prayed to the gods for their crops to prosper, and the gods answered, but a sacrifice would have to be made. her parents promised that where she was going, she would be rewarded with a thousand horses of all different shades and breeds. Instead, she was met with an iron collar around her delicate neck; a symbol of ownership. She was a slave to a Dominus, stripped down to an object to be bought and used in whatever means he felt necessary, and she had only just flowered.

Her parents abided by the god’s wishes for them to sell their only daughter, and yet, their crops shriveled and dried to dust. It was too late, the damage was already done, and she could never return to the home she once knew.

When Aurelia’s parents sold her off to senator Cassius, she had expected to live her life of servitude in a dingy cell, wearing tattered garments and begging for scraps. No matter how foul and unsettling Cassius was in her eyes, in a twisted way he did treat her better than she had expected. Atleast, she had convinced herself that he had. He ensured her that she would be educated in the arts and literature and all things a proper Roman lady should be taught. For that, she should be grateful, but only bitterness resides when she imagines the life she could be living had her parents not thrown her away so carelessly.

She was granted her own room and bed with silken sheets and a wardrobe with garments of every color. Handcrafted and threaded with the richest fabrics she had ever laid her eyes upon. Cassius prided himself in his appearance and so the same expectations were set upon her.

The first night of her new life, Aurelia found herself helping him undress and sink into the bath that she had prepared for him. He paid no mind to the obvious scald marks appearing on her small hands from the water being too hot for her delicate skin to handle. “You will tend to me in whatever manner I may request of you, Aurelia,” he said sternly, leaving no room for her to protest against his command. “Yes, my Dominus,” she responded quietly, her voice laced with nervousness. He grinned at her displeasure and ignored the fear that lingered in her eyes when he grasped her wrist, smaller than his own, and he dragged her hand beneath the steaming water to wrap around his hardening cock.

“I will make you happy, my pet. Just do as I ask and never fight me,” he hummed in contentment and his head tilting back against the fine porcelain as her wrist moved around his hardened shaft with shaky, insecure and unguided movements.

“Yes, my Dominus.”

He didn’t wait for her to be well adjusted to this new life. He was the type of man who would take as he pleased, no matter the consequences. “You will lay with me tonight in my chambers, Aurelia,” he said from the entryway of the bathing area. A linen towel was secured around his hips, and she took little notice of her hands trembling as she followed him down the dimly lit hallway and to his private quarters. After that night, she was no longer a girl. She was a woman. This was evident from the dry crusted tears that laid like canyons upon her soft cheeks and the blood that stained his linen sheets with the loss of her innocence and youth.

As time went on, the pain subsided little by little. It left her experiencing confused and conflicted feelings. It felt wrong to experience pleasure from the monster, a man that took her away from the only life that she knew. Yet, her body began to crave it; yearned for that forbidden touch and that crescendo of muscles spasming, and her cunt fluttering. She felt like a woman entering her divinity through the arousal of slickness between her thighs and tender breasts; a body graced with curves, swells, dips, ridges, and soft skin.

Like summer turned to fall, and fall to winter, her feelings began to sour; turned bitter like grapes that exceeded their fermentation period. Resentment reared its ugly head the further she strayed from girlhood and entered into womanhood. All those hours of studying had gifted her knowledge that she once did not possess, and she wanted more out of her life. She craved freedom above all. Her anger and resentment towards him manifested and she could no longer keep it at bay. Her youth, stolen from her, but she intended to gain her autonomy back in some form. This angered Cassius greatly that his once perfect, compliant, obedient, pet had begun to unabashedly disobey him. She was his. His property. her mind, body and soul belonged to him, and him only.

“You will never be free from your servitude. No matter how many fruitless hours you spend praying to the gods. You will always belong to me,” he hissed through gritted teeth, towering above her trembling, cowered body that laid upon the cold tile in his chambers.

Her cheek felt hot to the touch where he had struck her, and the tang of copper bursted along her tongue from the torn flesh of her upper lip.

She glared at him through her tears, vision blurred before becoming clear once again. His bedroom chamber was deathly silent. “I belong to no one.”

He swiftly yanked her up by the scruff of her neck dragging her at his will towards the crumpled sheets along his bed. “You will remember my once unconditional kindness after I have fucked the defiance out of you, girl.”

She knew no tenderness from him after that night and was only met with cruelness.

She took solace in Cassius aging faster than most men, but perhaps it was due to the constant stress of losing the bitter war against the Caledonians and being a trusted advisor to Emperor Geta. Any day Cassius could lose his tongue…or his head, and she found herself praying for his death every morning and every night to no avail.

When Cassius was away for days, weeks at a time, she found her freedom and solace through familiar faces. The brothel became her oasis along with its inhabitants. She lay with men, women and indulged in the simple pleasures. Her garments became tattered at her own doing, and she finally felt as if she owned a sliver of her autonomy once more, but she was not yet free.

The Ludus Magnus

“Marcus,” he whispered, “My name is Marcus.”

Time ceased to exist for both the golden one and the gladiator. He had never told a single soul his true birth name that his mother had bestowed him. No one in his twenty three years of life was worthy to know his identity–until he met someone who had shattered his psyche and stitched it back together all in one breath. He did not believe in soulmates–at least, he thought he didn’t. There must have been a reason why his mother came to him in his dreams and spoke the words she did. It made him believe that she was somewhere out there, watching over her son, and doing all that she could to lead him down the right path. Surely, this stranger would be entwined to his fate and him to hers.

“Sir…” her voice wavered, “I am unworthy to know of your birth name.”

Marcus gave her an incredulous look, one with furrowed brows and lips pursed in utter confusion. “What unworthiness do you speak of, my lady?”

“Your birth name is sacred to your creed and identity, is it not? Only those who are closest to a gladiator, such as a family member, or lover is worthy to know of one’s birth name.”

His lips pulled into a small, yet noticeable grin, and for a moment he forgets about the pain from his deep wounds in his back and the pulsing sensation in his shoulder “You are familiar with my creed? Then you speak true. Only a person of worth is granted the knowledge of my birth name, my lady. You are more than worthy. You’re about to save my life after which I will be forever indebted to you.”

“You are not yet out of death’s grasp, Marcus,” she reminded him.

“Then we must not waste another moment, my lady.” Aurelia positioned herself behind him so that she could easily assess the damage that was inflicted to his back and shoulders. The lacerations were deep, and she could only imagine how many times the biting sting of a whip was brought upon him. The tips of her fingers gently brushed an unmarked area of skin with careful tenderness. The scar that resided there was raised, and although it did not cause him pain, he flinched nonetheless. “I…noticed in the arena that you favor your left side,” she said quietly and sat back on her haunches before reaching for the pitcher of water and vial of olive oil. “You are very observant,” he said softly. “Is there a reason as to why you favor it?” He turned his head over his shoulder so that he could observe her briefly, before he faced forward once more. “I suffered an injury when I was just a boy.” She tore a strip of fabric from her stola and dipped it generously into the water. “This will sting,” she warned him preemptively. The soaked strip of fabric descended against one of the lacerations. The cooling touch is soothing, yet the pain intensifies. He lurched forward from the sensation, gnawing on the soft flesh of his cheek so that he would not cry out. “I fell from my horse,” he continues. “How old were you, Marcus?”

He did not immediately respond, and his mind began to drift to that fatal night where his entire world was turned upside down. He inhaled a shaky breath before continuing, “I was nine.” “It was the eve of my tenth birthday–and it was entirely my fault. I should have been more careful, but my own recklessness guided me. All it took was for me to lose my stirrup, and my whole life changed.” “What happened?” “What didn’t happen,” he muttered through clenched teeth. His entire body tensed up, and it had nothing to do with his physical wounds, and all to do with his mental ones. “If I had not fallen from my horse, my father…would still love me.” His words were laced with bitterness, sadness, and guilt at the forefront. “I–I don’t understand,” she whispered in confusion. “Your name,” he said suddenly. He was not yet ready to divulge in something that was deeply personal. “What of it?” “You have yet to tell me.” “Marcus,” she starts. “It is not of importance right now–” “Please,” he begged. “I must know your name, my lady.” “Aurelia,” she concedes in a whisper, “my name is Aurelia.” “Aurelia,” he repeated, testing the way it sounded on his own tongue.

“You do not have to reveal more than you feel comfortable telling me, Marcus,” she reassured him. “You would be the first to hear of my past in its entirety, but I am not ready to revisit it.” “I understand,” she said earnestly. Silence passed between them, the words of her name echoing in his eardrums, Aurelia, the golden one.

She worked methodically on tending to his wounds, and when they are fully cleansed, the pitcher of water faintly reflects a light pinkish hue. “Marcus, did you always want to become a gladiator?” she finally broke through the silence with a question that left him frozen on the spot. “No,” he muttered. “Had I been given the choice, I would have declined it, but the choice was never mine to make. My father–he sold me to a slave trader that was well-known for training gladiators for the Colosseum. The first time I grasped a sword, I was thirteen, and I had no desire to…kill. When I turned eighteen, and had proven myself as a valiant fighter, I was brought before the emperors. My Dominus was reluctant to sell me, at first, but Geta was persistent, and offered more coin than my Dominus had ever seen, and well…here I reside.” “And I presume that your reasoning to defy the emperors in the arena was because of the resentment you hold towards your father?”

“You ask many questions, Aurelia,” he said flatly, but intended for it to come across as lighthearted and teasing.

“I’m—sorry…” she trailed off. “I should not pry,” she bowed her head in shame

He turned around fully so he could face her and when he took in her appearance of shame, he frowned and gently brought the knuckle of his pointer finger to rest beneath her chin.

“Aurelia, do not feel shameful for your curiosity. Your questions do not upset me, my lady. Forgive me if my tone has expressed otherwise. It is…comforting to have someone to confide in. I have never experienced these privileges until tonight.”

She lifted her chin slowly, her eyes meeting his softened gaze in the dim light. “It is a privilege that most do not get to experience in their life.”

“Indeed,” he sighed and slowly dropped his hand from her chin and rested it on his bare knee instead. “I do not know what came over me in the arena today,” he admitted. “I have killed many men before without a second thought…but I saw the fear in his eyes, and I just could not bring myself to kill him.”

“Marcus, to not kill when you have been commanded, takes compassion and bravery. I have never witnessed such an act. It left my Dominus enraged and perplexed. It is the reason that I sought you out this evening. When we returned to our villa, I could not stop thinking of you.”

Heat began to rise to their cheeks in tandem and he swiftly averted his gaze to the wall behind her instead.

“I feared for your safety, and despite knowing the risks of traveling after nightfall, I…had to make sure that you were okay,” she continued.

“Emperor Geta did not command that I would be punished for my defiance,” he said as if he was capable of reading her mind and knew exactly what question was lingering there.

“He did not?” confusion etched across her face at his words. “Who gave the command?”

“Well—I am under the impression that he did not give the command, and his praetorians took it upon themselves to punish me. I imagine that sounds a bit…improbable, but I did not hear him utter the command,” he let out a frustrated breath as he himself could not wrap his mind around what had taken place hours prior.

“That does sound implorable, but I believe you.”

“You said that your Dominus is a Senator, yes?” he interjects.

“Yes, he is,” she confirmed. “He works closely with the emperors, but mostly Geta, or so I have overheard.”

“And you haven’t had the displeasure of acquainting them, have you?” He referred to the emperors.

“No,” she shook her head. “Cassius does not allow me to stray far from his side, or to be in the company of other men. He is unaware that I have left the villa, but he spends his evenings in the brothel for many hours.”

“Be grateful that you have not made their acquaintance, Aurelia. Nothing good comes from either of them,” he said gravely.

She nodded in understanding. “Your wounds will heal with time, Marcus. I have done all that I can to cleanse them. Olive oil contains healing properties. It will keep the wound moist, and repel debris from contaminating the surrounding flesh. If the gods grant you reprieve, you will not face an infection,” she murmured.

“You’re leaving?…”

“I must,” she said regrettably, and slowly rose to her feet. “Cato will still be expecting to return me to my Dominus, but I intend to slip away before he has the chance.”

“Cato will be asleep by now, my lady. He nurses a bottle of wine each evening, and sleeps till late dawn.”

“Regardless, I should leave you to rest,” she insisted.

The likelihood of Marcus ever seeing her again was slim, given the circumstances that they were facing, but something in his heart told him that this would not be a one time occurrence.

“Will I see you again, my lady?” his tone held a sense of hope, something he hadn’t felt in many years.

“If the gods allow it, then yes, you will,” she said with a reassuring smile. “I am grateful to you, Aurelia. If the gods do not allow us to see one another again, I promise I will hold onto your kindness in my heart. Go now, quickly!” he said hurriedly. “Ride fast and swift. I will pray that your travel is perilous, my lady,” he reached for her hand and brought it up to his lips, brushing the soft skin of her knuckles with a farewell kiss.

“Iterum visurus sum, Marcus. Promitto,” (I will see you again, Marcus. I promise) she whispered.

He dropped her hand from his embrace, falling back against the wall in exhaustion, “Adero, te exspectat, auream unum,” (I will be here, waiting for you, golden one)

Palatine Hill

The moon had since risen high in the starry sky when Geta returned to Palatine Hill.

The palace was quiet and he had expected that even Caracalla had retired to his quarters for the evening, but this was squashed when he heard a hushed voice coming from the grand triclinium (dining room). He investigated further, driven by curiosity.

“I advise you to cease your squirming,” Caracalla whispered against the ear of a servant girl belonging to Geta. “There will be a severe price to pay if a single drop of wine leaves my cup and does not end up on my tongue,” he warned her.

“Dominus, please,” she whispered in his grip. Her eyes were glassy with tears reflecting the soft glow that was emitted from the many surrounding candles.

“Do you know what happens when you struggle, my dear?” he posed the question in a seemingly non-threatening way, but his tone said otherwise. “I will constrict around you like a snake, and my coils will tighten and tighten till those pretty eyes bulge right from your head!” he cackled manically.

She struggled further, not heeding his warning and all hope seemed lost until she locked eyes with a familiar figure looming in the entryway. “Emperor Geta!” she cried out in relief.

Caracalla scowled and followed her gaze till it too landed on his brother’s displeased look written across his face. “And like a savior dressed in gold, he arrives,” the younger emperor said with an annoyed roll of his eyes, “You have quite the impeccable timing, brother.”

Geta gave her a reassuring nod, and granted her a moment of reprieve. “Why are you antagonizing one of my servants, Caracalla?” he walked further into the room and dragged his ring hand above one of the flickering candles. His eyes locked onto his brother’s in a staredown.

“I have all the authority to antagonize her, Geta. She came to my chambers on your orders, after all. I was actually quite touched at the gesture…until she tried to murder me!” he said dramatically to make a show of it all. He was a wild fan of theatrics and the eldest emperor didn’t bat an eye at his pointed accusation.

“He lies!” the servant wailed and Caracalla swiftly slapped her cheek with the back of his hand to silence her.

“Peace, brother,” Geta said calmly and took the seat across from him. “Your accusations are false. I was…attending business all evening. I would not have the time to confide in one of my own to carry out such a treachery.”

“Ah, business,” Caracalla wiggled his eyebrows suggestively in a light jest. “I even have the weapon she carried that was intended to kill me,” he dangled the small blade in his freehand as proof.

“That could belong to anyone, Caracalla. There is no proof that she was in possession of it. I demand you release her this instant.”

A deep set frown crossed over Caracalla’s features and he drew his attention back to the severant, whose name he wouldn’t even bother to remember. He pointed the edge of the blade against her cheek that felt hot to the touch from the phantom bite of his cruel hand just moments ago. “Can’t you just play into my theatrics for once?” he sighed in disappointment, but his eyes flickered with something truly sadistic and amoral as he drank in the terrified look painted in her irises.

Geta rubbed his temples with his ring clad fingers, the ruby jewel on his left middle finger reflected in the candles glow. “Perhaps if these…theatrics did not involve one of my own servants, I would be more willing to participate.”

“Iocum de omnibus suges, frater,” (you suck the fun out of everything, brother) Caracalla hissed.

“Immo ego, tyranne,” (Indeed I do, tyrant) Geta said coolly.

Caracalla dug the edge of the blade into the softness of her cheek. A bead of blood pooled at the surface of the shallow wound, causing her to whimper from the sudden pain.

“You will play along, Geta. Especially with her life so delicately hanging in my grasp,” he chuckled. “So, what will her fate be, hm? Will you be merciful like Acacius?”

“I will not have you spilling her blood so carelessly. There is no game to play, Caracalla. Now, I will ask you again, release her this instant.”

“Ah. Ah. Ah. That is not how the game is played! Pretend that we are back in the Colosseum and she is begging for her life!” Caracalla said gleefully and dug the edge of the blade further into her cheek. “That’s your cue, girl. Beg for your life and make it believable!”

“Mercy, I beg! Mercy upon me!” she cried out, but Caracalla was unsatisfied with her performance and proceeded to drag the blade down her jaw and to the column of her throat. He leaned in close enough that she could see his pupils dilate and grow darker.

“Your performance is quite…pitiful,” he snickered. “You can do better than that.”

“Caracalla,” Geta said in a warning.

The younger emperor simply waved him off and applied pressure to the edge of the blade against her throat and locked eyes with his brother with a sadistic grin plastered on his thin lips. “Beg for your emperor to be merciful.”

She cried out into the peaceful evening air, begging and pleading for her life to be spared and when Geta arose from his seat, Caracalla’s hand ‘slipped’ and the edge of the blade sliced through her throat fatally. He released her from his grip as she clawed at her neck, blood spurting onto the table below and all over Caracalla’s evening robes, staining golden hues to deep crimson. She made a chilling gurgling sound that emitted from the back of her throat and her body slumped across his lap, twitching before growing still.

“Oops. My hand must have slipped,” Caracalla said with a light sigh that was lacking empathy. He looked down at her deceased body, still warm in his lap with disgust and pushed her to the floor beneath his sandaled feet while she continued to bleed out.

Geta stood unmoving, his left eye twitched, but he did not advance towards his brother. “I quite liked that one,” he muttered under his breath and reached for the empty chalice in front of him. He snapped his fingers once and another servant appeared with a pitcher of wine trembling in her grasp. She quickly poured his wine and was careful to not spill a single drop. Before she could retreat, she felt the cooling touch of his many rings brushing against her skin as he gently grasped her forearm. “Peace, girl. Retire for the evening.”

She bowed quickly and turned on her heel to leave.

“Leave the wine!” Caracalla barked.

The pitcher was carefully set down in the middle of the table and soon the two emperors were alone.

“You’re too soft with them, Geta,” Caracalla muttered over the rim of his chalice.

“No, I just consider all those who serve me to be valuable. I don’t wish to see any of their blood spilled and wasted so carelessly,” he gestured to his dead servant on the floor.

Caracalla glanced down at her deceased form and to disrespect her further, he placed his sandaled foot to rest upon her cheek as if she was his own personal foot rest. “And what of Acacius? Does he still hold a great value to you even after his display of defiance?” he questioned sharply.

“Even in his defiance, Acacius is still valuable. He has always been strong spirited, and I will simply just have to tighten the reins a bit. He will soften to me eventually, but all in due time.”

“That is if he lives much longer,” Caracalla mused and swirled the contents of his chalice with a bored expression.

“He’ll live long enough to vex you, I am certain.”

Caracalla snorted under his breath at this. “And tell me, brother. How do you intend to tame a heart as fierce and defiant as his? How will he suddenly grow loyal to you, hmm? Furthermore, even if your plan is successful, he has no experience on the battlefield and zero strategy. Brute strength will not be enough to sustain our armies.”

“Our armies?” Geta snarled as he leaned over the table, narrowing his eyes at his brother. His upper lip curled in disdain.“You mean, my army?” His tempered demeanor had shredded away, and his claws were unsheathed.

“Your army? The same army that will be wiped off the map if you and I do not reach an agreement? Do you wish to see Rome fall to her enemies, brother? To be stripped of our titles and forced to be slaves for the rest of our miserable lives? You wouldn’t last five seconds having to serve someone outside of yourself,” the younger emperor snapped coldly and the tension brewing between kin could be sliced with the very same blade that was stained with the blood of the innocent.

“An agreement?” Geta snorted at his brother's blatant idiocy. “I will be the reason that Rome remains in power. When Acacius becomes the general of my army and defeats my enemies, you will be eating your words. How foolish are you, truly? Servitude? No, you amentis, (idiot) they will have our heads displayed on spikes for all to see if Rome is to fall.”

“Temper, temper, brother. There is no need to grow restless, we are simply conversing, are we not?” he cackled. “Perhaps your business did not quench your thirst entirely, hm? I cannot say the same for myself,” he subtly gestured to the dead servant. “She met mine quite well. Shame that she had to die…I would have quite enjoyed having her in my bed again. Which of your servants shall I kill next?” he leaned over his half of the table, his eyes dancing with mischief as he took another long sip from his chalice, teeth gleaming in claret over the golden rim.

“My business satisfied me plenty, brother,” Geta responded with a curt nod and rose from his seat.

“Oh, before you go,” Caracalla commenced and leaned back against the plush cushion situated at his lower back, “Perhaps for your next attempt at murdering me, you choose something…” he snapped his fingers as he tried to think of the word, “discreet,” he grinned. “Ah, Yes! Discreet. What about poisoning me?” he suggested. “You could slip something into my drink or food and I would never know.”

“That is the most wicked, Caracalla. I quite enjoy the mental image of seeing you claw at your throat as blood seeps from your eyes. I think that is what I will dream of tonight,” he tipped the rim of his chalice in Caracalla’s direction mockingly.

“And I will dream of cutting your vile tongue out and feeding it to one of your whores,” Caracalla quipped back.

“Indeed,” Geta mused. “Sleep well, brother,” he said with a subtle wink. He downed the rest of his wine before setting the empty chalice along the table, leaving the room without another word leaving his lips.

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