#this took....way longer than anticipated lmao

[vonlipvig]

that's a wrap, baby!

[ourceliumnetwork]

i did the biggest and scariest of the things on my list (the last thign on my list in fact) and it took like. MAYBE 5 minutes total including login time navigation and page loading.

now i get to have fancy Oreo Poptarts because i'm a big strong boy whose knee is slightly dislocated (it's fine i just went too hard and i'll wrap it up here in a minute) and did a big scary thing and also now gets to fully devote brain power to anxiety about the (potential) hole between two of my heart chambers and the accompanying doctor's appointment tomorrow morning.

[saintrosalyn]

BIRD DOG - JAILBIRD PART TWO

Part One

Description: Simon’s determined to retrieve his jailbird.

Word count: 4.5k

TW: Parolee! Reader (guys we’ve graduated to parole), stalking, reader is kept as vague as possible, sexual favors in exchange for money, groping, Ghost is a creep (graduated from perv lmao), p in v, oral (m! receiving), p in v, mention of breeding kink, creampie, possessiveness, dub-con, somewhat edited.

Notes: It’s finally done! This took longer than I anticipated since I deviated from the OG plan and was a bit of a stinker to write but it's done. I hope everyone enjoys it! I’ve absolutely loved reading all the comments, asks, and reblogs. Such positive feedback is what led me to posting part two honestly. I'm currently working on the last part of JB so expect that soon💖. Feedback is always appreciated but never expected. Let me know if I missed any tags. Enjoy :)

Also I've never done a tag list before so apologies if it didn't work or I missed anyone😭. Please let me know if the link to part one doesn't work either, this is the first time I'm using Tumblr on my laptop I usually use my phone.

You got used to the slight tremor in your hands, the parting kiss alcoholism left with you, but the violent shaking as you attempted to click the lock of the hotel door closed was difficult for even you to handle. You longed to feel that familiar burn of self-destruction but the only place that would have you end up is back in prison. Parole violation. It was too soon to resort to such dramatic measures, instead you quietly paced your small room, double checking that you clicked the deadbolt shut, closing the curtains as tight as they could go, anything to try and soothe your rising anxiety.

Talking yourself away from the edge again and again until you could finally sit down on the stiff mattress. Every time you managed to calm your heart you blinked and saw that room again. You saw those pictures again.

He-Simon.

You swallowed, forcing yourself to take deep, slow, breaths. 

After sleeping together, after discovering the skeleton in his closet, you swallowed the bile in your throat and kissed his jaw. He made dinner which you smiled over and forced into your mouth, every bite downed with a sip of water. The two of you went to bed, your eyes darting to that door, now left open enough you could see a glimpse of his homemade wallpaper. He kept an arm draped over you and fell asleep. 

Then you left.

Barefoot, not knowing where your shoes had been placed in your need to-

Jesus Christ you had slept with the man.

You barely made it to the bathroom, puking mostly water and yellowed acid up. It made your eyes water and nose run, blowing it in a piece of toilet paper, flushing it down. There was little comfort to be found in the distance you put between you and him. 

Going on foot wasn’t the brightest idea, but risking stealing Simon’s car and having him call the cops on you was foolish even for you. That and you didn’t want the man any angrier at you than you expected he was going to be. You only got so far before you found yourself on the wrong side of town. You had never been in the area before, but you knew the type. Women posted on every corner, bars on the windows, broken glass and sticky residue staining the sidewalks. It didn’t take you long to find the kind of man you needed. Trading a handjob for a bus fare, a blowjob for a new pair of shoes, and a pitiful two minutes of dry thrusting for a hotel room. 

Back to your ways. Different city, different time, same person. A bird incapable of changing its tune.

You needed a real job. A record stood in your way of that, but surely there had to be something, anything, that would pay enough for you to keep a roof over your head without having to sell more of yourself. 

You needed a job, but you needed space more. As much as you could get. Immigration was out, no one wanted to host a felon, and you were limited to a certain area before your parole officer got testy with you. Fuck. A big cage, that’s what you were trapped in. One you could never get free from.

Your family. Your past. Your cell. Your city. Your whole fucking life, one cage after another. Freedom a concept rather than a reality. Simon could use it against you. He knew of your limits, hell, you fucking told him yourself over a phone call before you got released. Outlined every fucking sentence of where you could and couldn’t go. He knew all of it.

Taking another deep breath you forced your body to lie on the bed, you needed to calm down. You needed to think clearly and come up with a plan. Simon was still asleep in bed, he didn’t know where you were, you were fine. 

You were fine.

A good night’s sleep. That’s what you needed. Not likely with how wound tight you were. But you had to try. Anything to escape the panic squeezing your lungs.

___

It took four hours of staring blankly at a dark ceiling, on the edge of a panic attack the entire time, before your body gave in and let you sleep. It was light, but it was enough of a break in your consciousness. The sun was what woke you, shining on your eyes and causing you to squint. Your anxiety a gentle heart palpitation rather than the full blown panic it was last night, exhaustion dulling its edge. 

The first thing you did was go business to business looking for a place that was hiring. Most required a resume, those you didn’t even give a second glance (as they no doubt did background checks). It took all of the day before you found a shitty pub that only asked if you were old enough to drink. With a nod of your head an apron was shoved into your hands, and you were bussing for your first shift. 

The owner, a balding man who smelled like cigarettes and wore a sweat-stained wife beater, paid you cash. Enough that you were able to buy another night to cover your hotel room and not much else. You walked back to your temporary home, eyes darting to every tall man who crossed the street. For once, you were grateful Simon was such a large man. It would make him easier to spot in a crowd, the orange of a tiger’s fur stark against a green jungle.

When you returned back to your room, it was easy to explain the movement of your things. Hotels had housekeepers. You wouldn’t have even noticed it if it weren’t for your paranoid state. It wasn’t until you went to the bathroom, eager to wash away the grease and grime of the pub, that you noticed a small picture sitting face-down on the bathroom counter. Flipping it over revealed you. You, asleep in your shitty hotel bed, close-up, taken from inside. 

You were barely able to flip the toilet lid up before you lost your stomach contents. Vile burning the back of your throat was nothing in comparison to the panic that burned through your veins.

He was inside your hotel room. He was inside your hotel room last night with you. 

You barely managed to stand, legs shaking, leaving the bathroom you noticed other signs of his arrival. Dirty tracks that were much too large. The blinds wide-open even though you were sure you closed them before you went to sleep. A single dog tag resting underneath your pillow. It’s owner’s name mocking you.

Riley.

___

He left you more presents. Vestiges of him ever present in your life. It didn’t matter where you went, how many hotels you hopped, how many jobs you changed, he always found you. Truthfully, the both of you knew this song and dance could only go on for so long. You were low on cash and stuck orbiting around the same small area. Days bled into weeks bled into months. Fear gave way to anger. Anger that he wouldn’t leave you alone. Anger that he wouldn’t let you delude yourself into thinking you had found a safe space that he could not intrude on.

On your nth hotel, you decided you were staying. Simon be damned. He obviously had no intentions of killing you just yet, content in tormentation. That and there were only so many jobs willing to pay under-the-table. You needed to save up enough cash to prove that you had a steady place to live, a recommendation from your parole officer. This flightiness made the law suspicious at best and nervous at worst. 

You found your way back to the pub, who upgraded you to server. On the wrong side of town its patrons weren’t the best. But they tipped decent enough and if they got too handsy the owner always stepped in. A few pinches on the ass were worth a steady income. You’ve given a lot more of yourself for less.

Perhaps, that was your mistake, you got too comfortable with a wild animal. So sure that your exotic pet would not bite.

The first time you saw him, you thought it was a mistake. Despite his size Simon was able to go about your life as he pleased without you catching even a glimpse of him. Hell, you knew he could stalk you without you being aware of him at all (your prison stint was proof enough of that), he just chose not to. You shouldn’t have been surprised that his behavior would escalate. 

You were standing, dead on your feet after your shift working on three hours of sleep, waiting for the bus. And there he was. Across the street, large frame leaning against a wall, arms crossed. When you did a double glance, you were able to make out the tell-tale scars across his face. Then the bus came. It was a coin toss, boarding the bus. A part of you wanted to flee, figuring he could easily cross the street and board the same bus as you, but the alternative was worse. Let it pass and walk home alone. In the dark. With a predator at your heels. 

No.

Better to have people around you. Safety in numbers and all that.

The next day, he did it again. And again. And again. Each time coming closer and closer. Until one day you saw his large frame coming up the steps of the bus. You practically vibrated from anxiety in your seat, unshed tears blurring your vision as you stared straight ahead. The black blur of his jacket, the soft squeak of his boots as he moved closer and closer, until he took the seat right behind you.

You didn’t move. Frozen. Fight or flight. Fight or flight. Fight or flight. Or,

Fright.

Fright.

Fright. 

Until the bus moved and the decision was made for you. Only you couldn’t convince your muscles to move, stuck staring dead ahead. Willing the bus driving to glance in the mirror back at you. Willing the other passengers to notice how close the man behind you was sitting (close enough to feel his breath against your ear, close enough to smell the tobacco on his breath). But this was the last bus and everyone was too tired to notice. A herd of diurnal prey vs a nocturnal predator. It was clear who had the advantage.

You missed your stop. And the one after that. It wasn’t until you felt a violent shake on your shoulder that you jolted out of your trance, eyes darting up… to the bus driver. 

“Las’ stop miss. Gotta’ get off.” His voice firm. How long had he been calling out to you?

Giving a jerky nod you looked behind you, but Simon was gone.

___

It didn't stop there. Not that you expected it would, but fucking forgive you for having a little hope in life. Simon took to following a few steps behind you wherever you went. Sitting behind you on the bus. Sitting in the back of the pub, nursing beer after beer. Sometimes he had another man with him. But mostly he was alone. His eyes never left you. For weeks it went on. For weeks you felt his constant presence. 

The presents never stopped either. Photos of you, gifts for you (lingerie and cigarettes, the same shade of nail polish he gave you while you were in prison), things of his. He never relented. You never shook that feeling of being watched. You never could get rid of that pit of anxiety in your stomach. Exhaustion was starting to settle heavy in your bones. Give up. Give in. Give yourself to him. 

The temptation was intense. You just wanted to be done with it all. Let him do what he wanted with you. At this point, even death would be better than another day of constant anxiety. (Pursuit predator exhausting his prey, closing in). 

And then he was gone.

His absence was glaringly obvious on the first day, enough so that you thought for sure that you were going to die soon. Simon had reached some kind of breaking point. But you didn’t. And you didn’t see Simon.

There were no presents left for you. No signs of his stalking. No evidence that he was ever in your life at all. It was such a sudden and stark change that if it weren’t for his dog tag you would have thought you dreamed the whole thing. But he was gone. 

A day passed.

Then another.

And another.

The knot in your stomach slowly unworked itself. The tension ever present in your shoulders finally loosened. Weeks passed by. Then months. A part of you still worried. In prison there were times where Simon would go silent for months, but he always came back. And he always made sure to make up for lost times. More gifts, more phone calls, longer visits. It seemed that your anxiety was slowly chipped away, yet it was also slowly building itself back up again. 

But Simon stayed gone. More importantly, a date had been set for you to become a truly free woman. No parole. No restrictions. A chance to leave the country. A chance to truly be free.

A chance to slip away from Simon.

___

When a police officer knocked on your door, you had to fight back the panic.

You haven’t done anything wrong. 

It wasn’t until you were sitting across from your lawyer did you truly began to realize the situation you were in. His words sounded so far away, so garbled. As if you were trapped underwater, in a fishbowl, letting the world happen around you as you tapped at the glass.

“...Do you understand the situation you’re in?...Enough drugs to get an intent to distribute…a passport…tickets to another country…”

How did you get here?

“Are you listening to me?”

You snapped back to reality, the familiar cold cuffs biting into your wrists.

“Do they have to keep these on me?”

Your lawyer let out a sigh. “Don’t worry about the damn cuffs right now.”

Easy for him to say, he wasn’t the one wearing the damn cuffs.

“They’re distracting.” 

He ignored you. “They have you on video buying a plane ticket out of the country.”

You nodded. He didn’t mention the fact that your parole would’ve been up by then. Nothing wrong. You didn’t do anything wrong.

“They found enough cocaine in your hotel room to get intent to sell. With the plane ticket, and your erratic behavior after you got out of prison, things don’t look good for you.”

“It’s not mine I-” Your voice cracked and you cleared your throat, talking so quietly, trying to hold back tears. “I swear.”

Your lawyer didn’t look convinced. “That defense won’t hold up in court.”

He ran his hands through his hair. “Look, I was able to cut a deal for you. It’s better than prison. They’ll tag you-”

Dog tags flickered in your mind. “Huh?”

“House arrest.”

“Oh.”

“You won’t be able to use a hotel, you’ll have to go back to the original residence you reported when you got out of prison.”

"What?” Alarm bells rang through your sluggish thoughts.

Your lawyer sick of you interrupting him, bulldozed on. “Listen to me. I don’t know why they’re offering this to you, but you won’t get a second chance at this. Confess your crime. They’ll confine you to your house for three years and serve parole in tandem. You’ll only serve a year of parole once you’re out.”

Three years. Three years stuck at Simon’s house. Three years with Simon.

“What happens if I don’t take it.”

“You’ll go back to prison. Given you’ve already been, they'll try for maximum. You could be looking at twenty years, ten if you’re lucky. Life on parole.”

Walk into the tiger’s den or let him continue the chase.

How did you get here?

___

They put the ankle monitor on at Simon’s house, now your house you suppose. A part of you had wanted to tell them to take you back to prison instead. But you knew the reality of your situation. Simon would just do the same thing he did before. Get videos of you, pictures of you, he could still watch you in your cell. He would still visit you. And that’s just what he would do while you were in prison, what would happen when you were released again? You were never going to be able to escape him. At least this way you would be more comfortable.

A gilded cage.

Simon talked to the officers, but he seemed to make even them nervous, as they all but ran out of the house. You watched as they shut the door behind them, alone in a room with Simon for the first time in a long time.

How did you get here?

Simon put his hand on the back of your neck, before gliding it upwards jerking your head back. Your eyes met his, and he was smiling.

“Hello, bird.”

“Simon.”

He shuddered when you called his name.

“Missed you.”

“Don’t know how, you never left me.”

He grinned, boyish and proud of himself, “Never.”

Simon kissed you then, feeling far more familiar than he should’ve for a man you’ve only had sex with once. You turned, hoping to relieve some of the pressure in your neck, Simon’s hand stayed instead wrapping around your throat. He gave an experimental squeeze, making you whimper, before he released you.

“Gonna’ be good’ fer me?” He rasped.

You thought about it for a moment, and he let you, time frozen mid-air. But you had been running for so long. And you were so tired. Fight or flight. Fight or flight. Fight or flight. Or,

Surrender.

You had to stand on the tips of your toes to press your lips against his, white flag given. That’s all it took for the dam to break. Simon let out a growl and slammed you into the nearest wall, cradling your head so it didn’t bang against the wall with the force. His body caged you in as he deepened the kiss. You had forgotten just how intense it was to be so close to Simon.

He filled your senses. You breathed him in, you tasted him, you heard his soft grunts against your lips, felt the rough edge of his jeans as he ground himself against you, watched as his blonde eyelashes fluttered open until he was staring at you. Always watching. Even in these moments. 

Simon’s hand gripped your ass, grinding you harder against him, moaning from the friction.

“You owe’ me somethin’ birdie. Made your fiance wait so long. Such a fuckin’ tease.” He growled in your ear before fisting your shirt in two hands, ripping it with ease. Hands squeezing your bare tits so tight you expected to find bruises tomorrow.

Confusion knitted your brows together before he shoved you to your knees and you came face to face with his crotch.

How did you get here?

Your hands shook as you undid the button on his jeans, the zipper loud in between Simon and your panting. He helped you pull his jeans down his thighs, his cock dropping out, hard and angry.

Fuck.

You had forgotten just how big the man was down below. Time distorting the memory enough you had convinced yourself that he was average and you were just desperate that night. You were wrong of course. The man was hung as a fucking horse.

It had been awhile since you gave a blowjob. The steady pay the pub provided, the tips you made, pawning a few of Simon’s gifts and you had earned enough to not necessitate them. Not that it would help in this situation. Simon was big enough that all your previous tricks were rather useless. You weren’t even sure if you could open your mouth wide enough to take him, let alone take him down your throat. Your poor poor throat.

Tentatively, you leaned forward and gave the head a gentle kiss, glancing up and meeting Simon’s eyes. Your gaze left his, feeling suddenly shy despite the situation you were in. Pre dribbled and you used the chance to rub it along his sensitive head with your thumb. You gathered as much spit on your tongue licking the underside of his cock, pushing it all the way up until it pressed against his stomach. He groaned, hand resting on the back of your head. 

With his dick out of the way, you used your other hand to caress his balls before pressing soft kisses to them. You replaced your hand with your mouth, sucking and swirling your tongue, using your hands to work his cock while you gave your attention elsewhere. His balls were much easier to fit in your mouth, but you could only delay the inevitable so long.

You pulled away fully, his cock falling under the weight of itself. The easy part done, now it was time for the hard part. Your gag reflex was not going to be happy. Bracing your hands against his thick thighs, feeling his muscles flex underneath your fingertips, you pressed your lips against the tip of his cock again, parting the seam of your mouth and letting him slowly slip in. Your tongue lying flat as he invaded your mouth.

Inch by overwhelming inch.

Before you had thought he was overwhelming, it was nowhere near as overwhelming as having his dick in your mouth. Gone were the lingering scents of tobacco and liquor. The outside world stripped away until just the man was left. Until only Simon’s musk filled your nose, wrinkling it as you took him a little deeper. Your jaw already ached from how wide you were stretching it.

Tired of your pace, Simon began to use your head as leverage as he pushed you further down, nails pressing crescents into his skin as you forced your body to relax. You quickly moved your hands back to the base of his length, stopping him from pushing you any further. Twisting your wrists to placate him enough to let you keep them there. Sucking to increase the pressure.

Simon moaned, hands going from gripping your head, to resting. Letting you work.

You took a deep breath through your nose as you began to work him in earnest. Swirling your tongue over the head of his cocked you began to bob faster and faster, unable to stop the lewd gurgling noises as the back of him hit your throat. His hands were at your head again, pushing himself further down your throat and back again. Setting his pace.

This wasn’t a blowjob he was fucking your throat. Using you. His dick twitched in his mouth before he pulled out, as you took in huge gulps of breath. Body hunching in on itself. You felt vulnerable like this. Kneeling in front of him, the top half of you completely nude.

You didn’t get much time to collect yourself before you were pulled to your feet, turned so that your back was pressed against his front, hands bracing against the wall. 

Simon kissed your neck, hooking his hands on your pants and jerking them down. They caught on your ankle monitor but he just tore them off, seams ripping. Your underwear was torn with a satisfying rip, before you felt the tip of his bare cock pressing against your hole. He thrusted against your slit, gathering your own slick before he reached a hand down, dragging his dick back before it caught on your hole.

You couldn’t help but whine at the stretch of him, un-prepped. He didn’t stop until his hips met yours, large hands bruising. He paused, leaning his weight onto you, sighing. As if being buried to the hilt in your cunt was the reprieve he had been looking for all his life.

“Missed her’ too. Did she mis’ me?” His voice was hoarse against your ear.

“Huh?”

He removed one hand from your hip bringing it to your clit, brushing one large knuckle against it, causing your knees to buckle. Simon chuckled, easily holding your weight against him.

“Don’ worry, won’ ever leave you for this long again Birdie.”

Simon licked your cheek causing you to try and jerk away from him, before the rough pad of his finger began to circle your clit, your pussy clenching around him almost painfully, grinding his hips into yours as if trying to fuck you deeper somehow. He pulled out before snapping into you. Again and again, hand never leaving your clit.

“Simon! Simon please! Don’t stop!” You couldn’t help but cry, bucking back against him as you felt an orgasm build quickly, faster than one had ever built before.

He growled into your ear. “Ain’t ever gonna run again Bird.”

You nodded your head, trying to do everything in your power to appease him to keep doing what he was doing. To keep thrusting. To keep his hand on your clit. To lick you again. Anything. Everything. You wanted him to consume you wholly.

“Ain’t gonna run no’ more. Ain’t gonna leave the house till everyon’ knows you’re mine.”

His hand left your clit, causing you to whine in protest, cradling your stomach. 

“Say it. Tell the whole fuckin’ world who you belong too.”

“You Simon! YoU! Simon! Simon please…plea-” You were babbling, until finally his hand went back to your clit.

“Don’t forget it.”

You came, cunt desperately clutching his cock, squealing as Simon didn’t even slow his thrusts. He pushed you through one orgasm onto the edge of overstimulation as he finally came with a grunt inside of you. He didn’t pull out, keeping his seed nuzzled safely near your womb.

You slumped against his arms, panting softly as the reality of your situation began to wash over you, naked except for the ankle monitor.

How did you get here?

It didn’t matter, because all roads led to Simon.

Tag list: @Sweetlike-sugarplum, @thatpersonamedrook, @aphinthestars, @misscaller06, @shushyoudontknowme, @youknowits-derea, @succubusvalentine, @sundaescreamcheese

[meiieiri]

𝐭𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞 [geto suguru]

synopsis: suguru geto upped and left that day without a moment’s notice and he took everything with him — your heart, your soul — but as you look at the positive pregnancy test in your hand, you realize that he did in fact leave one thing behind.

warnings: unplanned pregnancy, angst, explicit sex.

a/n: i know, i know. i should be writing WE but this concept has been in my head far longer than WE and i just need to get it out there or else, i think i’m gonna go insane. if anyone wants to know the plot of this would have been fic, feel free to let me know lmao, of course it still involves gojo bc i can’t choose between the two of them since they’re both so baby girl—! also happy birthday to the loml, my pookie-wookie, honeybunch, suguru geto!!

It’s been a year since the happy side trip to Okinawa became a living nightmare that culminated in you, Suguru Geto, and Satoru Gojo on the brink of death and with many more scars than you could have ever imagined. The three of you had very different ideas on how to cope. Satoru spends the past year perfecting his cursed technique, often at the expense of his emotional well-being and energy but then again, after what Toji Fushiguro did to him leaving him with the trauma of being slaughtered without regard, it was only natural.

You and Suguru on the other hand retreated into yourselves; it was hard to believe that just a year before the two of you were a normal teenage couple who enjoyed walking the trendy streets of Shibuya in the weekend sunshine without a care in the world, whose only real problem is to decide where the two of you were gonna have your weekly dates.

Now, things were different. Rainclouds have gathered effectively blocking out the sun. As you sat on the desk reading through your textbook on reverse cursed technique, you glance at Suguru from time to time and you aren’t the least bit surprised to see him sitting by the dorm room’s windowsill, staring at the garden with an empty gaze.

You’ve had enough of this. This eternal state of limbo was tearing you and Suguru apart.

Slowly, you stand up from the desk, softly padding across the wooden floor to where your boyfriend is. It was the middle of the night, last you checked, it’s already nine in the evening. You should be heading back to the women’s dorms now but you couldn’t, not when things were like this, not when Suguru’s losing himself day after day, you can’t help him, you know that, but you could be there for him seeing that’s all you can do.

But even then, it’s never enough.

Your relationship with Suguru is like a lit dynamite stick, you know that it’s only a matter of time before it also explodes in your faces. So, Suguru takes the lead, like he always does, he’s so much wiser and stronger than you in every way though he doesn’t care to admit it, though he pretends he doesn’t know why you’re so dependent on him.

“I think we should break up.”

He says that while holding your hand. You saw this coming but just how long did you anticipate that the love of your life would eventually up and leave you? You squeeze his hand with every ounce of the grief you are feeling hoping it would transcend the confines of your skin and it would reach his heart. “Is that what you really want?”

“No.”

He stands up to meet your gaze, the throw blanket falling to the floor as he does. He leans in closer, his hand cupping your cheek with such tenderness and heartache that you feel your heart rise to your throat. Suguru is normally so gentle like a shower of midnight rain, but he kisses you like this is the last — it probably is. Lost in him, your hands trail over his chest, and he deepens the kiss hoping that you’d also understand that he doesn’t really want to leave but he has to. He can’t bear to drag you into his mess.

He could never do that to you.

You respond with a soft moan when Suguru slowly lifts your shirt over your head. He stares at your plump breasts for a moment, covered only by a thin lace-like material, before deciding that looking at you wasn’t enough. He has to take you, ravish you, fondle you, kiss you. Anything to let you know that he’s not doing this because he’s fallen out of love with you.

“Don’t leave,” you plead in between his soft kisses to your breasts, tears slipping from your eyes as he removes your bra, letting it slip from your shoulders which he was now kissing up to the crook of your neck. How could your hearts be so full yet so empty at the same time?

None of what happened should have caused this much heartache between the two of you. In fact, it should have made you rely on each more, right? It should have strengthened you not destroy everything you had: each other, the future you planned together.

Suguru doesn’t answer as he nips at your neck, sucking on the delicate flesh, as your forms gracefully fall on the bed, he stares at you with such love, such devotion, and you wonder why this should be the last time. His gaze falls to your vulnerable form, his cock hardening at the sight of your clothed pussy getting wet just from that. He grinds against you, sighing at the way you buck your hips to meet his wanting more of him. If this was to be the last time, then, you want to make it count.

“Suguru, I’m yours.” That’s all he needs to hear and he removes your underwear, kissing down your leg as he slips it off of you. He tosses it onto his nightstand, and he leans towards it to grab a condom from his drawer. You catch his hand. “Don’t. I want to feel you.”

Suguru’s eyes widen at your request, his lips eliciting short huffs of breath. He’s never fucked you raw before. “Are you sure?”

You nod against his forehead. “Please. Please fuck me, Su.”

Slowly, his hand guiding his tip up and down your slit, smearing your wetness along the base of his cock before slowly pushing into you savoring the sensation of your cunt squeezing around him as he stretches you with his girth. A deep groan betrays him and his mouth hangs open as your tight walls envelop him as he bottoms out. He takes a moment to collect himself, not wanting to cum right then and there.

“S-shit. Ah, you’re so fucking tight.” He allows himself a small thrust, the tip of his cock already nudging your sensitive spot, having memorized you after many desperate nights of lovemaking. His fingers grip the soft skin of your hips as he pulls out momentarily before pushing back in again more forcefully this time.

“S-su! Mngh—please fuck me—I love you, I love you, I love you,” you beg.

A tear slips from Suguru’s eyes, it was becoming more real now — this final goodbye. He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, his thumb brushing against your cheek as he slowly builds up the pace of his thrusts, his cock bullying your cunt, driving himself in and out of your pussy, again and again. He brings your leg to his waist, holding it so he could angle himself better. “I love you too.”

You mewl as he pistons in and out of you, his balls slapping hard against your skin. “Sugu—ah! More—n-need more of you—“ You’re crying now, and he is too as he continues to ravage your pussy, his hand finds your other leg and he pushes your knees close to your chest, folding you into a deep mating press, slamming into your cunt.

“I’m yours. Always,” Suguru looks into your eyes amidst your desperate cries, your thighs trembling under his passionate gaze. He grunts when he feels the familiar tightening of your walls. “You’re close—fuck,” he takes this as an incentive to go faster, harder, and he fucks you in a way he never has before.

“So good—oh—“ you fall silent as he suddenly brings your hands to your clit, letting you touch yourself. You looked so beautiful like this, under him, your head thrown back against the pillows, your mouth primed in a silent ‘o’. He pants as he feels his balls tighten when your hips involuntarily buck into him as you climax. “Suguru!”

“Ah, baby…” He groans, the hot breath from his lips tickling your forehead as he rides out his high, spilling his seed into you not caring what the consequences may be. You did want this after all, and he did too. You feel full just from the sensation of his thick cum, he thrusts into you one last time, further smearing his release in your walls.

You sighed as he stays there, your weak and trembling arms coming up to embrace him. He strokes your hair, memorizing each lock, pulling out after a while. Suguru pulls you flush against his chest, the remnants of his and your release sliding down your thighs. “It’ll be okay,” Suguru catches his breath, kissing your temple. “Even without me. You’ll be okay.”

“I won’t…you know I won’t.”

“You will.” He says firmly. “I promise. You know me, baby, I never break my promises.” You feel tears well up in your eyes again and he tenderly wipes it away. “I love you, (Y/N).”

“I love you too.”

By the next morning, you already knew with the way the AC’s cold air nips at your skin without Suguru, your Suguru, there to embrace you that he’s already left.

Without a note, without a goodbye. Typical of Suguru who doesn’t want to stick around to see you cry.

You curl into yourself as sobs wrack your body, the promise ring Suguru gave you gleaming under the rays of morning sunlight.

A few years later, just as Suguru said, things did get better. You smiled as you arranged the last of the tempura into the bento box filled with soba noodles with nori and small containers of mentsuyu and wasabi. It’s amazing how much she takes after him. You look at the clock and your face pales. You’re running late, so, you head upstairs to speed things up a little. You creak open the door to see the little blessing of your life, the last gift Suguru ever gave you. She’s looking at the picture of you and Suguru which you placed in her room, and since you know it was highly unlikely she’ll ever meet your lover in this lifetime, you’ve decided you want her to know him if by his appearance alone and the stories you tell her.

“Riko? We’re gonna be late,” you gently reminded your four-year-old daughter. You shoot her a funny look when you see the haphazard way she placed her hair in a bun. She pouts as she tries to get it right again, looking at her father’s picture intently. “Sweetheart, are you trying to look like—?”

“Like papa,” she huffs cutely and you chuckle, moving to pick her up and sit her down on your lap. Kissing her cheek, you also gaze at the picture depicting a candid you and Suguru during your first year at Tokyo Jujutsu Technical College. He has his arm wrapped around your shoulder, winking at the camera as he kisses your cheek, a silent gleeful laugh on your face.

You look at her, a little confused, you gently smooth her hair before planting a kiss between her eyebrows. “And why do you want to look like papa?” Riko shyly looks away, her ears turning a little red as she blushes, a trait she inherited from you. You flick her nose, giggling. “Well?” Riko laughs at the playful gesture.

“…So you don’t cry anymore, mama.” Your heart seems to have stopped beating for a moment and a warm, tearful smile appears on your face, wrapping Riko in a bone-crushingly tender hug. “Love you…” she sinks into the warmth of your hug and you kiss the top of her head.

“I love you, Riko. So…so…much.”

At that, your little girl sighs in relief. “School?” she tilts her head and you suddenly remembered the reason you went upstairs. You had to get moving. Your eyes widened and you carry her downstairs, being careful not to jostle her too much. “My hair, mama!” she giggles at her still unruly hair and you grimace in embarrassment. Suddenly, the front door opens and Riko sees who it is, before you could grab the spare brush from your bag, she suddenly jumps out of your arms and makes a beeline for the door.

“Papa, papa!”

You turn around and though the sight pains you to this day, somehow, you’re starting to learn to live with the fact that things are always bound to change with time and that this is what Suguru would have wanted: a loving and complete family for his little girl. You wrap Riko’s bento and place it in her lunchbox before going to greet the visitor.

“Hi, babe.” He turns to meet your lips for a sweet kiss, balancing Riko in his strong arms.

“Good morning, Satoru.”

[yustinamishka]

Hualian comm (for a fic!) This took me way longer than I anticipated. Idk why this felt harder to do than the last time (I guess me getting sick added to it to) but!! I like how it turned out in the end. I had to do lots of revisions with bg colors until it matched what I had in my head lmao. Love it tho! I want to keep using the same style more.

[space-mango-company]

Stranger | Chapter 2

Chapter Links: [1], [2], [3], [4], [5]

TW: Descriptions of Violence, Mentions of Cannibalism

Tags: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x Atreides!Reader, Arranged Marriage, Eventual Smut (still not in this chapter lmao), No use of y/n, Original Characters, Canon what canon

Word Count: 2k

A/N: So... this was posted prematurely a couple hours ago. This is the actual finished longer version. If you don't know what I'm talking about, thank god. Sorry this took so long, lmao

Just letting you guys know that my knowledge of the lore is purely based off of the movies and the Dune wiki rabbit hole I fell into right after watching part two. I also took a few liberties with the canon here.

I'm super open to constructive criticism, or any criticism at all (feel free to absolutely roast me). Like I mentioned, I've never written fanfic before so I'd love to hear your thoughts!

The evening of your first day in Giedi Prime was celebrated with a banquet where you were introduced to the most important people on the planet. You've heard many stories of the ruthlessness and brutality of the Harkonnens, hence surprised by the courtly welcome during the dinner. Although you did your best to politely ignore the Baron who floated at the head of the table being fed by servants.

You were sat beside his nephew who, despite your mother's education, has evaded your insight. You couldn't quite get a read on him.

Feyd-Rautha whispers to you amid the buzzing conversations of the banquet hall, "are you enjoying the food, little hawk?"

You shoot him a questioning look.

"I like your hairpin," he sneers.

You resist from reaching to touch the Atreides symbol affixed in your hair.

"We don't see such ornaments often here." He quietly laughs in his devilish way, only too amused with himself.

Ah, you realize. He means to torment you.

"Seems early for pet names," you say, picking at your plate, "we've only just met."

"Oh, and yet we are to be wed in less than a week's time," his raspy voice rings in your ear, "I should like to be familiar with my future wife, Lady Atreides."

The marriage pact had been signed when you were only a little girl. Inheriting your father's inclinations, you swore you would uphold your duty, undeterred by the gruesome and abhorrent stories about the Harkonnens—because you knew that centuries of conflict could end within a generation with this union. You were a willing bride.

And yet.

You give him a smile that, to those not privy to your conversation, would seem genuine, "You know nothing of me, na-Baron."

"I should like to learn," you doubt his sincerity but care not enough to discern it. He takes a smug bite of a forkful of meat, "perhaps tomorrow, you shall learn something of me."

The following morning Iassa helps you into another black gown, this time with a veil in anticipation of the black sun.

"Is it not dangerous for Feyd-Rautha to wager his life for a show?" you question.

"The na-Baron is a skilled fighter, my lady. He will emerge victorious," Iassa is straight-faced as she drapes the veil over you.

"Yes, I do not doubt it, but given he is the Baron's heir. Does it not seem a touch irresponsible to even risk it at all."

Not that you actually cared for his life, you just expected that the Harkonnens would be concerned with the preservation of their house regardless of their brutality. You recall your grandfather who got himself killed fighting bulls for sport.

"The na-Baron will be fighting war prisoners. They will be drugged beforehand. It is perfectly safe, my lady."

"Oh." You couldn't decide if you were disappointed or not, "I see."

Iassa seemed intent on dropping the subject, so you do.

You stand before a mirror and take a look at yourself. It is impossible not to be reminded of your mother. She was never one for vanity, but you like to think there was a part of her that always enjoyed the elegant dresses she and you 'had' to wear. You allow yourself a somber smile behind your veil.

"You look beautiful, my lady," Iassa curtsies.

"Thank you," you look at her bowed figure, gray robes made more dull by the stark black choker on her neck. You were sure she was at least 2 standard years younger than you are and it had only been a few months since you came of age. You wondered if she liked pretty dresses too.

Before you can ask her, there is a knock at your door.

The house steward, Jaromir, clears his throat when Iassa opens it for you, "The na-Baron requests your presence before he enters the arena."

Heavy doors open for you in one of the chambers beneath the arena. You are greeted by the sight of a half-dressed Feyd-Rautha being helped into his armor by a servant.

"Lady Atreides," he looks you up and down, "I hope you slept well."

You bow your head in acknowledgment.

"Your knives, master," a large man whom you assume to be the bladesmith presents Feyd-Rautha with two daggers.

The young Harkonnen takes one and caresses the blade with his fingers.

"I've come to wish the brave na-Baron well before his fight in the arena," you say in false earnestness.

He smiles at your inflation of his ego.

"Though I must say, I am relieved it is all for show. I would not like to see my groom wounded before we are wed."

"For show?" Feyd-Rautha tilts his head and you see his arrogant facade show the slightest crack.

"Yes, I've heard your opponents will be drugged will they not?" your voice dripping with innocence, "to ensure your safety, of course."

His grip on the dagger tightens, "and where did you hear this exactly?"

You sense the awkwardness and tension in the servants. The one who had helped don Feyd-Rautha's armor has quietly retreated to the far side of the chamber. There is a subtle tremble in the hands of one holding a plate of towels. You finally notice the three women piled upon a raised platform glaring at you.

"Just voices around the fortress," you shrug.

A deep breath recovers Feyd-Rautha's smug expression. "Call for the warden," he orders one of the guards by the door, "tell him to prepare new prisoners. Sober ones."

"My lord, you need not endanger yourself," you feign worry.

"Nonsense." The na-Baron walks closer to tower over you, "My lady bride deserves to see my true prowess."

He sees through your challenge, but you don't care. Seeing his self-satisfied smirk wiped from his face for even just a second was worth it.

"Besides," he turns away from you to inspect the second knife, "my darlings enjoy meat that's fought for its life."

The three women sneer at this and you see their sharp teeth as they hiss amongst themselves.

You've heard of Feyd-Rautha's concubines long before you arrived on Giedi Prime. Tales of their taste for human flesh were one of the things that tested your resolve in fulfilling the marriage pact. You didn't mind that the na-Baron would keep other women. It would result in less of his attentions on yourself, you figured. It was their perverse appetite that nauseated you.

A look of revulsion hides behind your veil which you sense they would be all too happy to rip to shreds.

"I will see you in the stands, little hawk," Feyd-Rautha whispers to you as he waves for a guard to escort you out.

You do your best to drown out the noise of what seemed to be a countless audience that came to see the na-Baron fight. You could understand now why they uphold such brutal traditions. The people are so excited for it.

On the other side of the arena, you sense Vladimir Harkonnen watching you from the Baron's Box that towered over the whole arena. The blazing sun only helps you avoid looking in his direction. You were sat at a viewing box, still for nobility and separated from the masses, but much lower and closer to the sands of the arena. Jaromir had told you that you were to 'give the na-Baron your favor'.

Before long, the master of ceremonies announces Feyd-Rautha's entrance in Giedi Prime Speech. They are celebrating his betrothal to you and the union of Harkonnen and Atreides, you translate in your head. You wonder if the people care for the politics of the Great Houses. They seemed no less excited to cheer at your name despite the centuries-old blood feud.

Massive doors open as the na-Baron walks into the arena. His arms outstretched holding his knives like an extension of his limbs. He riles up the crowd as he walks towards the Baron's Box and kneels to his uncle. He then rises and walks toward you, smirking under the stark light of the black sun.

You may not fear earning the Harkonnens' contempt, but you were the Duke of Caladan's daughter and you knew that the favor of the people was invaluable.

You stand and walk to the edge of the viewing box. The glowing smile you reveal as you lift your veil draws cheers from the crowd that rival what Feyd-Rautha received. You produce a pure white handkerchief from your dress pocket and make a show of kissing it and waving the cloth at the buzzing crowd. You throw it off the edge and it floats toward the na-Baron who had moved both daggers to one hand to catch it. He looks up at you with what you think could be the seeds of respect and tucks the cloth into the tight armband around his right bicep.

He turns back to the audience and raises his knives in a war cry. The crowd explodes in guttural cheers and applause. Feyd-Rautha takes his position in the middle of the arena as his first opponent is released into the white sands.

You've heard of the Harkonnen heir's aptitude in single combat. It's time to see if the stories were true or if it was just another part of their menacing facade.

You were handed a pair of spyglasses to observe with. The two fighters approach each other, the prisoner wielding a knife of his own. Feyd-Rautha holds a taunting stance. The prisoner was sober, you were sure, but even without the spyglasses, you could see he was weak. You surmised the Harkonnen cells weren't very hospitable. He attempts a swipe but the na-Baron parries with ease. Another and the na-Baron dodges. Zooming in, you could see Feyd-Rautha's twisted amusement. He was toying with the poor man—and the people loved it.

The crowds cheered at the clashing of metal, thundering when the na-Baron drew first blood by slashig his opponent's arm. It wasn't long before Feyd-Rautha's dagger had impaled the prisoner's heart. There was no pause before a second prisoner was brought out to meet a similar fate.

Feyd-Rautha stood unwounded, seething with exhilaration. He enjoyed this; the thrill of killing. He basked in the roar of the crowd. You had never ended a life before, but some deep part of you could almost understand how he felt in that moment.

A third prisoner enters the arena. He looked older than the first two, bearded and taller. He reminded you of Gurney Halleck, the Atreides Warmaster. This man certainly wasn't at his prime but you could tell he would not go down as easily as the first two.

The warrior holds his blade out in a firm fighting stance, refusing to make the first move. You notice picadors in black suits have entered the arena, circling the na-Baron and his opponent. Feyd-Rautha lunges at the prisoner and a quick series of parries from both sides occur. You see the finesse in the na-Baron's movement. He recognizes his opponent's skill and he is taking this one seriously. You were not sure what you expected of the Harkonnen's fighting style but Feyd-Rautha was vicious but precise. The crowd gasps when the prisoner disarms one of the na-Baron's knives. The warrior manages to get a grip on Feyd-Rautha's armed hand and aims to pierce the na-Baron's neck with his blade. The na-Baron struggled against his hold and the arid air was thick with anticipation.

You were unsure what outcome you desired as you stared through your spyglass. Perhaps this warrior kills your betrothed. What then? Would you really be able to go back to Caladan's windy cliffs again? Return to the arms of your mother as if it were all a bad dream? You wonder if when Feyd-Rautha becomes baron, and you his baroness, could you convince him to let you see your family.

The warrior's blade was dangerously close to your future husband's throat when one of the picadors lashes at the warrior. The na-Baron growls at the offending picador as the warrior is weakened. Feyd-Rautha pushes him off and allows him a moment to recover, taunting him to try again. Blades clash once more and after a sequence of quick ferocious movements, Feyd-Rautha's blade slashes the warrior's throat. Blood made black by the infrared of the sun splatters onto the na-Baron. He licks the darkness that landed on his lips. Heaving, he takes your bloodied handkerchief off his armband and raises it to you and the roaring crowd.

You did not even realize you were already standing, breathless at the sight.

Chapter Links: [1], [2], [3], [4], [5]

Taglist: @torchbearerkyle @austinswhitewolf @dreamlandcreations @emeraldsgirl @strawberryfieldsforevermore

[deathc-re]

nanami x afab! reader

you've never done this before. neither have you talked about it but you wanted to try something new. you knew he'd like it, it's just the type of man he is, so you sat on the floor by the door. on your knees and legs spread, nothing but a lacey thong and some heels on. your pussy was already wet from anticipation and your imagination.

would he come in and be shocked? will he ask what you're doing or instantly drop his things and whisk you away to give you another amazing night of sex?

you wanted to wait for him, you really did, but it seemed like it was taking way longer than usual for him to get to the house, so a hand might have slipped to your front. slowly, teasingly, you started rubbing on your clothed clit lightly. just that sent a shiver down your spine, and soon your other hand found one of your nipples.

you were about to get lost in it when you heard keys to the door. your hands snapped back behind your back and your tongue lolled out of your mouth. eyes already half libbed you gazed up at your lover as he pushed the door open.

he froze in place and took in the sight. your chest, glistening slightly with sweat, heaving quickly, your tongue out with spit already threatening to drip onto your tits and those eyes.

fuck- his dick was already growing in his pants. with a heavy exhale he shut the door behind him and dropped his things onto the table by the door. your eyes followed him as he shrugged off his jacket and yanked at his tie.

"you fucking slut." his first words to you since he came in and you already wanted to melt into the floor.

"really? look at you! you like you're ready to cum just from the sight of me." you nodded your head but stayed in place.

"get up." he stood back with his arms crossed over his broad chest. you followed his command, and stood quickly, tongue finding its way back into your mouth.

"nah nah, keep it out."

as you dropped your tongue again he grabbed you and pulled you into a messy kiss. you moaned, his skin cold to the touch from the outside air.

his hands found their way to your thong pulling up harshly on the fabric but also giving your cunt some friction. you squirmed, a deep sigh leaving your nose.

he pulled back and chuckled, his eyes filled with lust and his lips curled into a smile.

"i love you, dear."

i'm a tease ik but this has been in the drafts so long and idk how to continue it anymore lmao

[somanyratsinthewalls]

Kinktober Special Part 8

Mo’s Kinktober Special 

The Crew’s Whore (Part 8) (+18)

!!!!!!MINORS DNI!!!!

Summary: You are the former owner of the Grand Line’s most popular brothel. Your powerful fighting abilities got the attention of the captain of the Straw Hat Pirates. He had asked you to join their crew but what would you bring to the team? Your battle skills were hardly comparable to many of the other Straw Hats… but you actually had a great skill. Your years working as a high end escort had prepared you to become the private plaything for this pirate crew. You joined the Straw Hats as their personal sex toy.

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x Fem!Reader

WC: 2600 lol

TWs: IT’S FOOT TIME! FOOT FETISH WARNING! Man I am not even into feet but this kinda did it for me. In my brain Law is canonically into feet in a weird way. Unprotected sex, p in v sex, table sex, alcohol consuption, toe sucking lmao, just fetish shit yeah.

——

The trip to the next island was turning out to be longer than anticipated due to poor weather. The Straw Hat pirates had allied themselves with now-warlord-of-the-sea Captain Trafalgar Law and were harboring him on their ship as they sailed towards the next part of their plan as an alliance. The weather had finally turned pleasant so of course Luffy ordered Sanji to prepare a huge feast, complete with piles of steaming food and barrels of cold booze. 

Eating and drinking were two of you favorite activities, second and third only to fucking, so you were thrilled at the prospect of a little party. No one had approached you yet and asked you for your time tonight, everyone being so busy setting up for the party and all… but you expected that to change as the night went on. Because you anticipated being taken for your services tonight, you took the time to bathe and clean yourself up a little extra nice. 

You curled your hair into soft waves and spent half an hour caking your face and painting your lips a glossy sheer crimson before heading to your closet and picked out an outfit. You settled on a flouncy little baby pink dress, the layered fabric sheer and light. The soft pink hem swished high up on your thighs, leaving very little of your legs to the imagination. Looking at yourself in the mirror, you decide to play it up even further and crouched down to grab a pair of red high heels from under your bed. You slipped on the pumps and with a final twirl in the mirror headed out to the party. 

The deck of the ship was buzzing with the sounds of your crew mates enjoying themselves. Brook was serenading the party with a jaunty tune to which Chopper and Nami were dancing, Luffy was busying himself with the sumptuous spread Sanji prepared, all while Zoro was ahead of the game and drinking himself into oblivion. Law was seated at the same table as Zoro, seemingly having much less of a nice time. The mysterious doctor was hunched over and stared emotionless into his drink, puffy brim of his hat shielding most of his face. 

You noticed your friend Robin leaning up against the back wall of the Sunny with a glass of red wine in hand and bit of a scowl on her face. 

“You don’t look pleased with the festivities.” 

“See that target they put up at the end of the ship?” Robin nods behind you. 

You turn and do indeed see a large target placed near the head of the Sunny. 

“Yeah?” You inquire. 

“Usopp and Franky keep having shooting contests. Franky keeps losing but he won’t give up. I don’t think they’ve sat down all night, and his face is as red as a tomato. Kind of embarrassing…” Robin giggles a little. 

“Are you surprised? I guess they’ll be out of our hair for the rest of the night then.” You laugh.

“That’s my point.” Robin rolls her eyes. Your brows raise in realization. 

“Ohhhh… you were trying to get laid! I get it now! Well no one’s approached me if you’re still up for it later…” You wink.  

“Thank you sweet y/n, always so thoughtful!” Robin sips her wine. “I’ll see if I can find you later if I’m still feeling up for it. Go get a drink and enjoy the party, dear!” Robin waves you on to the kitchen. 

You enter the galley and are immediately met with a very sweaty, stressed out Sanji. 

“Hi handsome.” You purr as you approach the blonde at the stove. 

“Oh, hello my love. I’m afraid the voracious appetite of our captain has rendered me incapacitated for the rest of the evening, the fucking glutton…” Sanji sighs. 

“Aww, my poor, tired, love cook.” You coo as you push his bangs out of his eyes. You place a kiss on his cheek. A droplet of blood escapes Sanji’s left nostril. “Well I’ll leave you to it then.” You grab a bottle of cold wine from the fridge and a glass from the shelf and carry them both out to the deck with you. 

You stroll over to the table where Law and Zoro were seated, now joined by Luffy whose cheeks were stuffed to bursting with various meats and cheeses. 

“You gentlemen mind if I sit with you?” You ask while already sitting down across from Law. 

“Not at all, pretty thing. Come have a drink with us.” Zoro smirks at you, holding his hand out to take the wine bottle from you. You oblige and he unsheathes a single blade to pop the cork off for you in dramatic fashion. 

“My hero.” You chide as the swordsman fills your glass to the brim. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to get me drunk, Mr. Roronoa.” 

“And what if I am? You say the filthiest shit after you’ve had a whole bottle of wine and it’s fucking incredible.” Zoro shoots you a hungry look as he downs another cup of sake. Luffy giggles. Law straightens up and gives Zoro a confused look. 

“Not much of a talker, are you, Trafalgar?” You turn your attention to Law. 

“I didn’t know the two of you were a couple.” He states blankly. 

“We’re not. I’m seeing everyone.” You smirk across the table at the foreign captain. He looks even more confused. “It’s what I do. I love making my crew mates happy, you can understand that, can’t you?”

Without time to answer, Luffy interjects. 

“Haha you should give her a try, Traffy! She’s really something hehe!” 

Law’s eyes widen. 

“Yeah why not, Tra-Guy? You’re already here eating our food and drinking our booze, why not sample some of the other amenities we have here on the Sunny.” Zoro chuckles as he pours himself another cup of liquor. Zoro must be quite fond of Law, as sharing you is never something he likes to bring up. 

“I’m sorry… are you offering me… her? Shouldn’t she be doing that?” Law looks a bit offended. 

“Would that make you feel better? My services apply to guests of the Straw Hat pirates as well, and I assure you I can meet whatever needs you may have.” You swirl you wine in the glass and take a long sip. 

“Um… No.. that’s.. that’s quite alright, thank you.” Law stutters out his refusal. 

“You don’t know what you’re turning down, man. Whatever you’re into, and I mean whatever, she can do it. Sweetest pussy in the Grand Line.” Zoro leans back in his chair. 

“Zoro! Don’t be so vulgar around our guest.” You scold the swordsman. 

“Whatever, his loss.” Zoro shrugs and slams another drink. 

— — 

After hours upon hours of dancing and drinking, the party had thinned out quite a bit. Now that things were winding down, you notice the painful ache in your feet from wearing high heels all night. Most everyone had headed to bed and you were considering doing the same until you spy your unfinished bottle of wine on the table with Law still dated at it, alone now. 

You sit down across from Law and take a swig from the bottle directly, your glass having been lost several dances ago. 

“Classy.” Law remarks from across the table. 

“Never said that was part of my resume.” You smirk and take another swallow of alcohol. You pull your feet up into your lap and groan. “God this is the last fucking time I wear these heels.” 

You slip off one of your shoes and behind massaging the heel of your foot with both hands. You pause your ministrations to grab another sip of wine when you notice Law’s eyes on you. They weren’t on your breasts close to spilling out of your low cut dress, or your plush thighs squishing against the wood of the bench you were sitting on… they were on your foot in your lap. 

There it is.

Ideas filled your head on how to finally break this stoic stranger. 

“You’re a doctor, right?” You ask innocently. 

“Huh?” Law responds, having been snapped out of what seemed like a trance. “Um, yeah.” 

“Could you maybe feel right here? I think it could be swollen.” You extend your nearly naked leg across from you and push the table to the side so that there was nothing between the two of you. 

“It..i-it doesn’t look swollen… but if you really want I could… I could take a closer look…” He hesitantly up at you before returning his gaze to your perfectly pedicured foot. 

“I’d love that. Thank you.” 

Law gingerly takes your foot in both hands and presses firmly into where you were pointing. You squirm a bit, feet incredibly sore from dancing all night. Law starts to rub up and down from your toes to your heel, intently examining every inch. You couldn’t help but notice how his mouth was now parted and his breathing quickened as he stroked your foot. 

He stopped abruptly and released your foot from his hold. 

“I-it seems fine. You should be fine.” 

You drop your foot directly into his lap and push it firmly against the crotch of Law’s jeans. 

“Are you sure, doctor? I think you should check again.” You flash him a devious smile as you take another swig from the bottle. 

“W-what are you doing, y/n?” Law sputters out, sweat forming on his temples. You feel his cock begin to stir under the sole of your foot. 

“You know, Traffy, we could have a lot of fun together…” You push harder against his erection with your foot. 

Law winces but he doesn’t respond. 

“Y-yeah?” He manages to pant out. 

You begin to slowly stroke your foot over his denim clad member, feeling it from base to tip, hot and aching to be freed. 

“Mhmm… Why don’t you take him out so we can play? You’re so hard Traffy, must hurt… We’re the only ones left out here, no need to be shy anymore…” You giggle. 

Law sucks in a breath before eventually undoing his belt and jeans buttons. His cock springs up as he pulls it out his pants and briefs, laying rigid against his abdomen. 

“Wow… you have such a pretty cock, Traffy…” You coo at him as you slip your left shoe off your foot and allow it to join your other foot in his lap. 

“D-don’t call me that…” Law whispers out. 

“Sorry…” You begin rubbing both of your feet up and down Law’s now exposed length. He watches your movements in awe as his mouth hangs farther open than before. “You’re just so cute I can’t help but tease you…” 

Law pays your words no mind as he is mesmerized by the sight of your pretty little feet stroking his cock. Soft pants leave his lips as you continue working him over. 

“You wanna cum like this, or do you wanna fuck me, Law?” You ask as you slide the ball of your right foot over his leaking tip. 

Without responding verbally, Law grunts and leans forward to pick you up by your waist and lay you down roughly on the table you had scooted out of the way earlier. He rips his shirt over his head, keeping his hat in place. He wastes no time and flips up your frilly pink dress to expose your panties that had grown wet from merely giving a powerful man a foot job. 

“I’m not waiting-“ Law says as he pushes your panties to the side and slides the head of his cock from your hole to your clit and back again, coating himself in your wetness. He pushes himself inside of you quickly, causing you to moan and arch your back. After a few experimental thrusts, Law picks up a quick pace and rams his hips into yours, curved cock hitting all the right places inside of you. 

“Oh, fuck, Law that’s so oh-!” Your eyes snap open at the foreign feeling only to see Law standing between your legs with the outside few toes of your right foot in his mouth. Eyes slammed shut, he doesn’t falter in his thrusts as he savors the taste of your skin on his tongue. He uses one hand to rub at your clit as he caresses your ankle with the other. 

“Dirty boy…” You coo up at him as you rake your nails down his abdomen. “You like sucking on my toes, you filthy boy?”

“Mmmm” Law manages to groan out as he peppers wet, sloppy kisses to the sole of your foot now, making sure every inch gets his attention. 

“Make me cum and I’ll let you blow all over them.” You demand as you wrap your other leg around his waist and pull him closer. 

“Fuck… swordsman wasn’t kidding…” Law grunts out as he picks up the pace of his hips, plowing into you with an ungodly force. He untangles your legs from his body and pushes them up to your chest, allowing himself the perfect angle to heighten your pleasure. 

With hands under the crooks of your knees, Law brings you tumbling over the edge of your high and you cried out his name to the starry sky above you as your orgasm overtakes you. With your cunt still pulsing, Law pulls his aching, throbbing cock begging for release from your tight hole and begins stroking it in front of you. 

Law grabs both your ankles in one hand and proceeds to blow rope after rope of hot white spend all over your delicate, pink painted toes. 

Breathing heavily still, Law takes a few moments to admire his handiwork. 

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” You quip from your exposed state on the table. 

Law shoves himself back into his pants and puts his shirt back on. He surprisingly takes the time to gently put your panties back into place and pull your dress down before helping you off the table. 

“You aren’t.. going to tell anyone about this… right?” He asks, hiding his eyes again with the brim of his hat. 

“About what? You liking feet?” You smirk. 

“Y-yeah…” 

“You’re secret is safe with me, Traffy.” You say with a wink. 

xx

*A/N ........ sorry :)*

[moremaybank]

STIRRED EMOTIONS — j.m

day one au with jj maybank

pairing bartender!jj maybank x fem!reader

summary you meet a handsome bartender that provides you with an unforgettable night.

warnings 18+, protected sex, cum play/cum eating, tit play, titty-fucking, food play (does alcohol count with this?? lmao), language, pet names, reader calling jj ‘daddy’

obx week ‘23 masterlist ;; jj masterlist

The dimly lit bar was filled with the familiar buzz of conversation and clinking glasses, but for JJ, this night somehow seemed to be different. An unknown sense of anticipation hung in the air as he watched the entrance of his establishment, waiting for something he couldn't quite put into words.

And then, as if on cue, you walked in. You were a vision. You exuded confidence and intrigue, wrapped in the kind of beauty that JJ had previously only believed existed in fairytales.

Your eyes scanned the room before they landed on the last empty seat at the bar, right across from where JJ was stationed. You made your way over, your smile enchanting, and took a seat.

"Whiskey. Neat, please," your voice carrying notes of sultriness that made JJ's knees go weak.

He nodded, his heart pounding as he prepared your drink. He couldn’t pinpoint why, but there was an undeniable pull about you. It was magnetic. Your fingers brushed when he placed the glass in front of you, and it sent an electric jolt through him. 

"Thanks." Your eyes lingered on his for a moment longer than necessary, and you'd officially reeled him in. You hooked him and drew him into your mystique, and he just knew.

Even if it only lasted one night, he had to have you.

JJ masked his nerves with the cheeky grin that the ladies seemed to love. "No problem, sweetheart."

Your heart fluttered at the syrupy husk in his voice. He was gorgeous. Blonde hair splayed messily in different directions, though it still looked perfect. You ached to run your fingers through the strands clouding over his forehead. The tips of them masked his eyes slightly, but even so, you could still see how dazzling they were. Hues of blue that reminded you of the ocean. The sharp line of his jaw and his pink lips. The crest of the dimple in his cheek. You felt hazy, and you could blame it on the alcohol, but you knew full well that it was solely from the effect he had on you from the mere moments since the two of you encountered.

Time went on, and JJ catered to his customers. The bar soon began to clear out, leaving the two of you in the faint glow of the room.

JJ leaned closer to you as he passed you your refilled glass. His voice was low, and his eyes zoned in on yours. "So, you got a story, princess?"

"Nope. I'm just a girl in a bar."

He inched closer still, the scent of his intoxicating cologne waving toward you. "Then what're you lookin' for?"

You shrugged, a glint of mischief evident in your eyes. "Some excitement. Maybe a little bit of trouble."

A smirk tugged at his lips. "Then you've come to the right place."

-

The two of you each knocked back a shot, your eyes growing low as the alcohol worked its way through your systems.

"So you're really not gonna tell me anything about you?" JJ questioned. "Give a guy a hand."

You shake your head. "You gotta work for that, JJ." You were so close that JJ could feel your breath against his lips. He could practically taste you, but almost was never enough.

"Yeah? And how am I supposed to do that?"

His eyes were trespassing. He was testing you, testing to see if you felt the same spark that ignited deep in his bones. He kept his gaze on you as his fingers twirled a strand of your hair between them. Your heart pounded in your chest, threatening to break free.

"Make sure I don't forget you by the time I leave here."

Immediately, his hand abandoned your hair and cupped your throat, drawing you in for a deep kiss. His tongue danced with yours, licking and stroking as he vied for your taste. Your own hands found his waist, pulling his body flush against yours so tight that you could feel the muscles that rippled beneath his shirt.

JJ's free hand cupped your core through your pants, and the heel of his palm added a delicious pressure to your clit. That, combined with the seam of your pants pressing into you, pulled a moan from your wet lips. You instinctively began to grind your hips against his hand, and a sweet feeling blossomed inside of you.

"Needy girl, huh? Trying to get yourself off on my hand without even letting me take your clothes off?" He chuckled when you nodded desperately, but let out a groan when you tugged at his hair as you kissed him again. You were playing with fire, and boy, JJ was going to make sure you got burned.

He pulled away, using his hands to undo the button of your jeans and pushing them and your panties down your hips. One hand snuck its way to your cunt, his index and middle finger hooking at your entrance and becoming coated with your arousal.

"So wet, baby. I've barely touched you," he mocked. He withdrew his hand, greedily bringing his digits to his mouth so he could get a taste. He let out a moan of satisfaction, keeping his eyes locked on yours. "Taste so fuckin' good."

He pushed them past the seam of your lips next, jamming them so far back that you gagged. Your eyes teared up, and JJ grinned as he removed them from your mouth.

"Shit. I wanna feel you choke on my cock like that," he rasped. "But not yet. Take this off."

His fingers tugged at your shirt, signalling you to remove it, and you did so. Your bra was next to go, thanks to JJ's fast hands, and he threw it onto the floor. He cupped your breasts, his thumbs both running over each of your nipples.

"These tits are fuckin' gorgeous. Been dreamin' about tasting them since you walked in here."

JJ turned his back toward you momentarily, and he grabbed the bottle of whiskey that the two of you had enjoyed earlier. He tipped the bottle slowly, watching the liquid pour down your chest to your torso. He set the bottle down and grabbed your waist, keeping you steady as he lapped at the alcohol on your skin. His tongue ghosted around your nipples and down your front. He reached your belly button, and the liquid burned at his tongue when he slurped at the pool of whiskey there. When he came back up, he pressed a hard kiss to your lips, before grabbing you and hoisting you up on the counter.

"Take your shirt off, JJ," you breathed, your hands pulling at the hem. He let you remove it, and your hands glided down his naked front. Your fingers traced the indents of his abs, and you were sure that you were drooling. "So sexy."

JJ's eyes drooped shut when your lips found his neck, kissing and sucking and biting, leaving marks on him as you made your way to his clavicle.

"Let me taste you," you begged.

"Not before I fuck you."

He pulled a condom from his wallet before shedding himself of his jeans and boxers. He then tore the package open hastily, and rolled it down his impressive length.

"But I want you in my mouth," you whined with a pout. His index finger pressed against your lips, shushing you.

"If you don't listen, you're not gonna get what you want. Be quiet and let me fuck you."

Your core fluttered at his tone and you smiled cheekily. "Yes, daddy."

"Fuck. Call me that again," he said. He stroked himself eagerly.

"Please fuck me, daddy."

Your doe eyes were enough to make him insane. He lined himself up with your entrance and pushed himself inside. Every ridge and vein that adorned him kneaded your walls upon entry, and you leaned back against the higher shelf of the counter. Your hands gripped the edge of the level you were perched on, feeling incredibly tight as he filled you up.

"S-so big. Shit."

"But you're gonna take it all. Ain't that right, pretty girl?" He started to move, picking up an impatient pace thanks to how tight you were squeezing him. You nodded, gifting him with another yes, sir as he went in on you.

One of his hands hooked your leg around his waist and kept it there, while the other worked at your tits. He squeezed and slapped at them, feeling your skin heat up as blood rushed to them. It then travelled up to your throat, forcing your eyes on him.

"Eyes open, baby. Watch me while I fuck you. Gonna make you cum so good."

You mewled, your abundant arousal growing even more as he slid in and out of you unforgivingly. Not an inch of you went untouched by his cock. He was everywhere all at once, providing you with an ecstasy that you'd never been able to find until now.

"Tell me what you want. Beg for it." He grunted with each thrust, the sounds going right to your pussy. Your fingers desperately circled your clit as you stared up at him.

"Make me cum, daddy. Wanna squirt all over you."

"Yeah?" He asked. "Gonna soak me nice 'n good?"

He went harder, and you nodded so fiercely, you felt like your head was going to snap off your neck.

"Yes. Yes. Please."

JJ's eyes moved away from yours so we could watch you toy with yourself. He felt your cunt tightening around him as it desperately tried to milk him.

"You're close. I can feel it. Give it to me," he instructed. His free hand found one of your nipples again, and he twisted and pinched at it until he felt your juices start to leak out of you. Your pussy clutched at his cock, making it harder for him to move in and out of you, but he didn't let up. You were still crying his name when he pulled more and more from you. His entire pelvis was dripping with you, and he couldn't help but smirk at you.

"JJ. Fuck my tits. Want you to cum all over them so I can taste you," you pleaded. You didn't have to tell him twice, he was already pulling out and yanking the condom off to free his cock. You hopped down from the counter, your legs trembling slightly as you kneeled before him. Your post-orgasm glow draped over you magnificently, a cocktail that had JJ’s head spinning more than any of the alcohol in his bar could. You grasped your tits, pushing them together when JJ's cock slid between them.

"Gonna get you nice 'n messy for me. Paint these pretty tits with my cum. You want it bad, don't you?" He already knew your answer, he could see the need in your eyes, but that wasn't going to stop him from getting you to beg him for it.

"So bad," you agreed, pressing your tits against him harder. The held onto him so tightly that it felt as good as your pretty cunt, and JJ was mere moments from exploding. "Give it to me, JJ. Don't you wanna see your cum on me? Want me to stick my tongue out for you?"

That's what did it for him. Your tongue laid flat as he withdrew from you, and he jerked his cock harshly, hips stuttering as his cum shot out at you. It draped over your breasts, your tongue and your chin, and you didn't waste a single drop. You collected every last bit onto your fingers, stuffing them in your mouth and tasting his seed as you held eye contact with him. Your eyes rolled back as you savoured the salty goodness.

JJ stared down at you in awe, huffing and puffing as he basked in the sight of you, all pretty and on your knees for him. He helped you stand up, pulling you close to kiss you again. His cock began to stiffen again once he tasted himself on your lips and in your mouth.

"You better give me your goddamn number."

JJ TAGLIST (JOIN HERE!): @pankowperfection @oncasette @taintedxkisses @mvybanks @wildflwrdarlin @rafesveryrealgf @dreamingwithrafe @maybankslover @goldenroutledge @penny4yourthoughts @bmo-bri @hemogloban @princessbetsy123-blog @slytherhoes @maybank-archives @whoisdrewstarkey @aliyahsomerhalder @vigilanteshitposting @poppet05 @adoreyouusugar @f4ll-for-you @bbycowboi @rafesdirtyslut @venomwh0re @jjmaybankisbae @enhypens-hoe @loverofdrewstarkey @earth2starkey @angelofcigs @glen-powells @papillonoirsworld @em0-b0ysworld @koalalafications @aerangi @cantstoptheimagines @bloody-mf-bsc @maybanksbabe @sarah5462 @slut4drudy @lvvrgrl @dancinglikeaballerina @somerandos-world @shahanaazsoumah @peachpitlover @sya-skies @julesmendoza890 @emmalandry @blueicequeen19 @madelynie @jeyusosgirl @urbestieboo @payton-dixonreader @l1lactheflower @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles @gillybear17

[thevegandarkelf]

QOTU: A Little Friendly Competition Part 1

Summary: Going on dates wasn’t always a guaranteed good time. Vec has had her fair share of shitty dates, but the nerves she had for this particular one were for a different reason. She truly liked this one, and she wanted it to go well. Thankfully, Scud shared the same sentiment, and it made for one of the best nights of their lives.

Third installment is finally here! Apologies that this one took longer than I anticipated. We get to see Vec & Scud's first date. I've been so excited to post this one, it's kinda stupid. I hope this pleases the council ('the council' is what we have dubbed our QOTU readers).

PS the shirt he's wearing is the one from the movie where he's talking to Whistler about his scars, just FYI. He just looks so good in it I had to use it. And massive thank you to @dixons-sunshine for help with the summary 🖤

Era: Pre-apocalypse, a bit over a year before the outbreak

Word count: 8.1k (this is my longest one-shot to date and it's only part 1 lmao I'm so sorry)

CW for swearing, some suggestive commentary. You are responsible for your own consumption.

We're also cross-posting on AO3 if you prefer to read it there!

My AO3 Krys' AO3

Upon hearing the vibration against the wood, Vec took her phone off her dresser, a small smile gracing her lips when she realized it was a message from him. Running a hand through her hair and brushing her bangs from her eyes, she opened the message, blood flowing to her cheeks and turning them from their normal pale to baby pink.

Josh ☺️: I can’t wait to see you later. It’s been too long 😉

They’d been talking for weeks, texting on and off throughout each day and even having a few phone calls in the evenings. During one of those phone calls was the first time he called her “Vee,” which quickly became his special nickname for her. Immediately following that conversation, she ran to Georgie, standing in her bedroom doorway and blinking repeatedly before whispering “he has a nickname for me” in the most lovesick tone possible.

She’d hardly stopped talking about this ‘cutie with the bandana’ in recent weeks. Now, it was time to make their first date a reality.

“What kind of makeup are you thinking?” Georgie asked. She began rifling through a stack of eyeshadow palettes Vec kept on her dresser, opening each to examine the colors before setting them down. “I know you usually like to keep it lighter on first dates.”

“Nah, I’m wearing that full-coverage shit,” Vec commented, pulling a small glass bottle of foundation from the drawer, “I’m not about to be looking like a tomato all night long.”

She spent hours curling her hair, having to take a break halfway through and recruiting her best friend to help finish the job when her arms got tired.

“Gin, can you help me?” Vec practically begged as she stepped out into the living room, half of her head in curls while the other remained pin straight.

“I was wondering when you were going to ask,” Georgie chuckled, setting her stack of papers on the glass coffee table to join her in the bathroom. Every time Vec curled her hair, she insisted she could do it all herself, and every time, she requested Georgie’s help somewhere between halfway and three-quarters of the way done.

As a surgeon, she typically wasn’t allowed to have her nails painted. However, since she was off for a couple of weeks taking some much-needed and well-deserved PTO, she decided to treat herself, opting for some black acrylics. electing to keep them short as long nails could make date night plans more difficult.

She also recruited Georgie’s help in picking an outfit, the pile of different dresses, skirts, and more on her bed becoming too much to sort through on her own. Walking back into the living room, she simply grabbed Georgie’s hand without saying a word, taking her back into her room for her to get an eyeful of the mountain of clothes occupying her place of rest, and Georgie knew just what that meant. Vec hated to pull Georgie from her work, but she also knew if she didn’t, one, she would never hear the end of it, and two, she would never be able to garner up the courage to leave the house.

“You didn’t already have your outfit picked out?” Georgie teased, grabbing different tops off of hangers and adding them to the pile, “what, are you gonna go in your scrubs?”

Vec chuckled, the sweet sound of amusement rising from the depths of her chest sounding like music to Georgie’s ears. “I mean, he has already seen me in them, and he still seemed to be into—“ she paused and used her hands to gesture up and down her body “—all of this.”

The pair eventually settled on something simple, pairing a long-sleeved black sweater with a black skirt and a pair of fishnets. Taking extra precaution, she slipped a pair of shorts on under her skirt, the shorts long enough to just cover the tattoos on the back on her thighs.

Grabbing her favorite fragrance off her dresser, she gave her neck, décolletage, and wrists a few spritzes, rubbing her wrists together to ensure the scent settled. The little bottle of vanilla-scented spray was a gift from her mom for her high-school graduation, and it had been dubbed her “lucky perfume” after many an instance of it coming clutch. She only wore it for the most special of occasions—her white coat ceremony, Match Day, her birthday—and this, a first date with a man she was already falling head over heels for, was a very, very special occasion.

Taking one last deep breath and draping her hair over her shoulders, she gave herself one final look-over in her mirror and flattened her sweater. She did one small twirl, watching her skirt flow around her thighs and her curls bounce as they settled back into place.

Making her way back into the living room, she stood in front of her best friend, who’d been spending her evening grading papers when she wasn’t helping her prepare for her date. She anxiously cracked her fingers before repeatedly wiggling them in some pathetic attempt to rid herself of all the nervous energy cooped up inside her body. “What do you think?”

Looking up from her work, a massive smile spread across Georgie’s face as she took in the sight of her bestie before her, all dolled up and dressed to impress. “You look hot.” Giving her a slow up-down with her eyes, something caught her attention. “You’re not wearing the push-up this time?”

Vec was a smaller gal, some curves but nothing crazy, and her chest was by far her biggest insecurity. She always wore the only push-up bra she owned on dates, attempting to boost her confidence by making her small chest not look so small. This time was different. “No. I’m, uh, going for…authenticity this time.”

“Wow. You must really like this one,” Georgie commented, setting her red pen down on the table and rising to her feet. She could only think of one other occasion where her Dia hadn’t worn that illustrious push-up, and that was back in undergrad.

“Yeah,” Vec replied in a sickly, tooth-rotting tone, her cheeks becoming flushed under her full-coverage face. She twirled away from Georgie long enough to slip on and zip up her combat boots.

“Well, he’s a lucky man, getting to take you out.”

Pacing the living room of their shared apartment, she kept her eyes glued to the floor as she began gently scratching at the side of her left thumb with her index finger, the primary telltale sign of her anxiety. “Gin, I feel like I wanna throw up and die.”

“Throw up, sure, yeah. That makes sense. And I’ll certainly hold your hair back if you do,” Georgie assured, crossing over from the couch and standing off to the side of Vec as she continued to pace. She followed her with her eyes back and forth from the entryway to the TV stand and back again. “But die? That feels a bit overdramatic, even for you, Dia.”

“Not helping.” Her tone was unintentionally stern, and she was immediately kicking herself. “I didn’t mean to snap, I’m just so worked up, and not in the fun way.”

Georgie couldn’t help but snicker in response. Even when she was “worked up, and not in the fun way,” her best friend was still cracking jokes and being her overdramatic, unhinged self. “Just try to take a deep breath, okay? Think of this as a day out with one of your friends, just a casual get-together. Less pressure that way.”

“Right…just a hangout…” Vec whispered between deep breaths, “…until one of us is flirting every two fucking seconds.”

“And if anything goes wrong on this ‘hangout’, I’m only a phone call away, remember? I’ll drop everything and come to you if I need to.”

“I know. I’m just super worked up right now. I mean, what if he thinks I’m too bold?”

She snickered again, this time a little louder and with a hint of surprise in her tone. Never had Vec been concerned about being “too bold,” especially for a man. For her to be worrying about something like that meant this ‘cutie with the bandana’ must’ve been special. “It sounds like you were pretty bold back at the auto shop, and he seemed into it. I think if he thought you were “too bold” then you wouldn’t be here now,” Georgie assured, “and if he does decide you’re “too bold,” then it’s his loss.”

Slowing down before coming to a stop, Vec finally ceased her pacing, turning to Georgie as she adjusted her glasses on her nose. “You’re right. I’ve already been pretty bold. I’m just stuck in my own head.”

“Well, let’s get you out of there then.” Georgie stepped closer to her and began brushing hair out of her eyes, adjusting her curls, and looking her outfit over to ensure there wasn’t a speck of dust in sight. “Tell me what the plan is again.”

“Umm, I’m meeting him at the bowling alley, and I’m not sure after that,” Vec explained, resting the urge to bite at her bottom lip as to not get lipstick on her teeth, “we might go get food or something, I don’t know. I feel too sick to eat right now.”

“Babe, can you take a deep breath for me?” Georgie asked. Vec nodded, and she forced herself to take a deep, calming breath in through her nose and out through her mouth. Georgie placed her hands on her shoulders before meeting her gaze. “You’re going to be fine. I’m sure once you get there, all of your nerves will just melt away. You’re Lydia Rae Vector, the best way this man could be spending his Friday night.”

Vec would’ve been lying if she said the mini pep-talk from her Ginny didn’t do a number in terms of boosting her ego. “Well, I don’t know about the best way, but definitely a good one.” She took her phone out long enough to look at the time before sliding it back into her bag. “I should get going. I’m supposed to be there in twenty minutes. And you know me, gotta get there early.”

“Don’t forget to—“

“I know, I know. Text you every time I change locations and call with the code phrase if things get sketchy.” Every time one of them was headed out on a date or a hookup, they always reminded the other of their golden rule, as if they hadn’t been doing it their entire friendship.

As she headed out the front door, Georgie called out to her one last time. “Stay safe, have fun, and use protection! Not necessarily in that order, but you know what I mean.”

Vec rolled her eyes and scoffed as she poked her head back in the doorframe just long enough to respond. “Thanks, Gin.”

The bowling alley was only about a 5 minute drive from her place, but given the Friday night Atlanta traffic, it took her almost the whole 20 minute window to get there. After speed-walking through the ever-growing-dark parking lot, she leaned against the first counter she came across, which happened to be empty. She sent a quick text to let him know she was there and where in the building to find her. She also send a message to Georgie, letting her know she’d made it safely.

Vec: Made it. Just waiting for him.

Vec: I still wanna throw up and ✨die✨

Ginny 🌻: You’re gonna be fine. And if you don’t feel fine, I’ll be there before you know it 💛

The next message that made its way through to her was from none other than her date, and given that it was their agreed meet-up time, she figured he had to be close.

Josh ☺️: What are you wearing?

Josh: ☺️: Y’know, so I can spot you 😉

Vec: You’ll see 😉

A few minutes later, she was greeted from behind by a pair of hands over her eyes, hovering just over her glasses. In a normal situation, she would’ve whipped around before the person had a chance to say a word and clocked them in the nose. This situation was out of the ordinary in the best way.

“Guess who?” the familiar voice behind her greeted, chuckling softly.

“Gee, I wonder.” Her tone was sarcastic, amused, and flirty all at the same time, a combination that sent the mechanic’s heart plummeting into his stomach and joining the butterflies already making a home there.

“I’d offer a hint, but that would give it away,” he teased. He hoped that, even though he didn’t give the hint, she’d still catch on to what it was going to be. And catch on she did.

The fucking bandana, she thought. She didn’t say anything, but the giggly scoff that met his ears told him everything he needed to know.

Finally removing his hands from her eyes, he tapped on her shoulder to get her to spin around. Her curls bounced on her shoulders as she turned, her skirt flowing around her thighs catching his attention. At the mere sight of her, his stomach was doing backflips, and when their eyes locked, he knew he was in for one of the best nights of his life.

“Hi!” she greeted. The tone of her voice had changed to one of sheer delight, and there was almost a sparkle to it. She roped him in for a hug, her arms sliding around his neck and his instinctively traveling to her waist. He was elated about her desire for physical contact. It was a short hug, but it was just long enough for him to get a whiff of the sweet vanilla perfume on her neck.

“Damn,” she laughed, bringing her head back up and gently brushing a few stray hairs from his eyes, “no bandana this time, huh?”

He kept his hands on her waist as she worked, moving strands from one side to the other of the natural parting on his scalp. It wasn’t intentional the way his hands stayed planted there and subconsciously pulled her closer. He was simply too enraptured with the sight before him to do anything about it. “Figured I’d let the hair down for a change. But look at you. You clean up good, doc.”

“Clean up good” was an understatement, he thought. She looked beautiful, damn near ethereal, the shimmer on her cheekbone catching the fluorescent light above them. Even curled, her long hair still reached down past her chest, and the shade of dark purple lipstick she’d picked out made her cerulean eyes pop. It took everything in him to not plant one on her right then and there.

After fixing his flyaways to her satisfaction, she folded her arms over her chest and took a moment to admire him. His jeans looked damn near brand new, if she had to guess, and hit button-up was open just enough to expose his collarbone. He was wearing the same choker she’d seen on him back at the auto shop, the same choker she fantasized about curling her finger around and pulling him in for a kiss by. He was a work of art as far as she was concerned. “So do you, mechanic man,” she replied. She was well aware of his hands still on her waist and too wrapped up in the moment to care. They could’ve stayed just like that, talking all night, and she would be happy.

“You smell nice.”

“Thank you. It’s my, uh, lucky perfume.”

“What makes it so lucky?” he inquired, the usage of the L word piquing his interest.

“I only wear it for…special occasions.” She was already starting to blush under all her makeup, but thankfully, her full-coverage foundation kept the blood rushing to her cheeks a secret from her date. “And usually, said occasions work out in my favor.”

“Honored to know I’m such a ‘special occasion.’” It was in that moment, when her gaze dropped to the floor for just a second and he was pulled from his trance, that he became overwhelmingly aware of his hands on her waist that had been very slowly creeping towards her hips.

“Shit, sorry.” He didn’t pull away abruptly, but rather let his hands naturally pull away, and now, it was his turn to get a little pink. “Guess I got distracted.”

Her mind echoed Georgie’s words from earlier in the evening. Think of this as a day out with one of your friends, just a casual get-together. Yeah, that’s certainly going well so far, she thought, a smile breaking out on her face from her thoughts and the compliment from him.

“You don’t need to apologize. Does it look like I was bothered at all?” she laughed, “believe me, if I’m bothered by something, you’ll know.”

Her laugh in response provided him some relief and gave him the confidence to take her hand, running his fingers over hers and looking at his reflection in the glossy black acrylics that adorned her nails. “These look cool. Bet you don’t get to do this too often, given your job.”

“Uh, no…no, I don’t, really.” She had to fight to keep herself from sliding her fingers in between his, resisting the pull she was feeling to lock their hands together.

“You should’ve told me. I would’ve painted mine to match,” he smirked. Now, it was her turn to have the butterflies in her stomach working overtime.

Had he painted his nails before? Yes, on more than one occasion. Did he currently own a bottle of black nail polish for himself? Not at all. If she indeed had let him know what she was doing, would he have went out and bought one just to match her? Absolutely.

“I love a man who breaks gender norms,” she gushed. Her fingers trailed up to the base of his-rolled up sleeve, goosebumps forming on his skin as she worked upwards. She tugged on it gently, and her lashes fluttered as she brought her gaze from his bicep back to his eyes. “I like this shirt, by the way. It looks great on you.”

“This old thing? I don’t really pull this one out much. Glad you like it.”

“You should pull it out more often.”

That sentence in another context would go crazy, she thought, doing her best to stifle the laugh trying to creep its way out of her chest. But she was a woman who wore her thoughts all over her face, and the smile she was fighting to make smaller told him that her mind had taken the statement in a more nefarious direction.

He couldn’t help but laugh at her attempt to keep hers contained, an amused smirk crossing his lips as he did. “C’mon, I already got us set up. Just gotta get shoes.”

As she turned to round the corner, his hand trailed to her upper back, taking the end of some of her curls between his fingers, though he was careful not to dishevel them. “Guess I didn’t realize how much hair you really got. It’s still so long. How you get it all to fit in that cap you gotta wear?”

“A very tight braid and lots of practice,” she explained. His hand moved under her curls to rest on her back, migrating down to her waist. They’d only been in each other’s presence for maybe five minutes. Already, he was hardly able to keep his hands off her, and Vec was eating that shit up.

“What made you wanna grow it out?” he inquired as they approached the shoe counter.

“I like to go to renaissance festivals and dress up for them. The long hair makes for some cool styles.” An idea struck her, and she was already reaching for her bag before she could get her next sentence out. “I have some pictures. If you wanna see, I mean.”

“Hell yeah, of course I do.”

Opening to her photos, she selected the album titled ‘ren fest(ivies)’ and clicked on the first picture. “My best friend likes to sew, so she helps me make them.” She handed her phone over to him before turning to the shoe counter, their fingers lightly grazing each other as they did. Just like that fateful day back at the auto shop, the sparks that generated between them could’ve lit the entire city of Atlanta. “You can just scroll through to the end.”

As he scrolled through, he got to feast his eyes on different pictures of her posed in medieval skirts and corsets with weapons that would make any fantasy nerd proud. Like she’d said, the long hair did in fact make for some sick hairstyles, and as he continued, he found himself having to swallow a couple of times to keep himself from drooling. He could vaguely hear her comment her shoe size to the man behind the counter. Eight, maybe? He couldn’t be sure. All of his senses were focused on the pictures of the goddess in front of him.

“Wow.” It came out more matter-of-fact than he anticipated. He was enamored, and it was more than evident based on his boyish grin and the way his eyes closed ever so slightly, like he was high. “You look…” his voice momentarily trailed off before he found it again “…beautiful, badass, all of it. Your confidence is top-notch.”

She looked up from the spot she’d taken on a nearby chair as she finished tying the laces of her bowling shoes. The way he called her ‘beautiful’ had her stomach doing backflips. “Thank you. I’m already planning my outfit for the next one.”

After he put on his shoes, they headed off to their lane. His hand found her waist again as they walked, and he kept it there, like he was guiding her through a large crowd despite not a single person being in their way. She didn’t mind one bit. In fact, quite the opposite. She’d began making mental notes about what she could do to further encourage the behavior.

“I put our names in already,” he said, nodding in the general direction of the small kiosk at their lane. Peering over the frame of her glasses, she chuckled as she scanned over their names on the screen above them. Hers read ‘Vee,’ but that wasn’t the funny part.

“‘Scudster’? Really?” she laughed, that sweet giggle trailing off her tongue to meet his ears again. It wasn’t the first time she’d heard him refer to himself as that, but it was still entertaining nonetheless. “You’re so unserious, you know that?”

“I like to think my “unserious” vibes are part of the charm.” As the pins came down at the end of the lane, he took a bowling ball in his hand, gently spinning it around as to not drop it. This time, it was his turn to be struck by a positively brilliant idea. “Hey Vee, what do you say we turn this into…a little friendly competition?”

The doctor cocked an eyebrow at him, her curiosity quickly piquing, which was evident by the look in her eyes. “What did you have in mind?”

“Let’s say…if I win, I get a kiss.” Immediately fearing he’d been too forward, he waited with bated breath for her to respond or do anything that would indicate she was comfortable with the situation. When her contagious smile appeared again, her pearly whites on full display, his shoulders relaxed, and that little Machiavellian smirk of his crept onto his face.

“Aah, I see.” Crossing her arms over her chest, she racked her brain for what she could say in return. What did she want from him? Just about anything. What did she want to know about him? Everything. “Then if I win…you gotta tell me your deepest, darkest secret. And it better be a good one.”

“Lucky for me, I’m good at bowling.” Judging by his tone and resting smirk, he was feeling rather confident. “Prepare to get shredded.”

He’d put her name in first, so he kindly grabbed one of the balls and held it out to her. “Ladies first,” Scud said, giving her a friendly smile.

Vec wasn’t a complete rookie when it came to bowling. She’d been before, although it had been a while, and given the little skills she had back then, she was certain they’d since faded away. She was almost positive she was going to get “shredded,” but she didn’t dare let it show, lest he already start to think he had the upper hand.

Taking the blue bowling ball in her hands, she stepped up to the lane, rolling it back and forth in her hands and staring down the pins at the end. It’s my favorite color, she thought, that has to mean something, right?

“So how did you get into dressing up for ren fests?” His question rang in her ears as she took her first shot, his voice catching her by surprise and making her stumble. She missed her center shot, the balling rolling off to the side and into the gutter, not hitting a single pin as it traveled into the darkness at the end of the lane.

“Wow,” he teased as he approached her, “should we have put the guards up?”

“That’s not fair,” she jokingly whined, her smirk turning into a playful pout, “you distracted me.”

“Fear not m’lady, you got one more shot,” he assured, stepping away only long enough to bring the bowling ball back to her.

“So to answer your question, I’m big into fantasy shit.” She lined herself up again, taking a deep breath to help her focus. “You know Disney movies at all?”

This time, he waited until after she took her turn to respond. While the ball didn’t roll into the gutter this time, it was no strike, just barely knocking a couple of the pins over on one side. “Sure do. My favorite’s The Fox and the Hound.”

“Somehow, that doesn’t surprise me.” Scud looked over his shoulder long enough to give her a cheeky grin before lining up his first shot. Though he was determined to win their little friendly competition, he was far more interested in listening to what she had to say. “My favorite growing up was Sleeping Beauty. It was my ‘gateway drug’ into the world of fantasy. Got me into the Lord of the Rings, going to ren fests, and eventually dressing up for them.”

He rolled nearly dead center, knocking every pin over with a single strike. He turned back to her, that same cheeky grin on his face. “Oh you’re just showing off now,” she groaned, that playful joking pout making a second appearance for him. And oh, how he was loving it.

As he’d told her during their initial meeting, he’d been on the market for a while. He needed someone that could joke around with him, be able to laugh at themselves, was unapologetically authentic and genuine to their core. So far, she was checking all of those boxes and then some.

“Told you I was good.” Stepping back to her, Scud brushed some stray hairs out of her eyes, tucking them over the side of her glasses. There was hardly any, not enough to have bothered her at all, but it was enough for him to do something about it. He was looking for damn near any excuse to touch her in any capacity. And the little smile that crept up every time he did? He’d do anything to see that.

“Anyway,” she commented in an attempt to bring the conversation back, “I used to watch it so much that I’d constantly be singing the song from it around the house when I was little. My brothers used to make fun of me for it. All in good fun, of course, but they’ll still sometimes bring it up just to get under my skin. Y’know, the way siblings do.”

“You close with ‘em?” He was already lining up for his second shot of that turn, her standing over his shoulder, but far enough back to not get hit by his arm when he swung.

“Oh yeah. I have a few, we’re all really close. They’re all older. Joined the military right out of high school. Became Navy SEALs. They’re some of my best friends.”

He wouldn’t admit it to anyone—hell, he was hardly able to admit it to himself—but the mention of multiple military big-brothers did put him a bit on edge. In his mind, all it would take was one wrong move for them to come knocking on his door. He didn’t know much about the different branches of the military, but one thing he did know is that Navy SEALs were not to be fucked with.

“Don’t got any myself.” He took his second shot, once again landing another strike. Vec was beginning to wonder if he’d chosen bowling for a first date on purpose as a way to show off a little. “Had a lot of cousins growin’ up. Having kids my own age around was nice. That’s dope that you’re so close with yours.”

“I definitely got lucky. I certainly never taken them for granted.”

They continued chatting as they took turns, Scud occasionally doing a tiny fist pump when he made a strike. It wasn’t perfect, he didn’t land every single one, but it was damn near close, and Vec knew she had no chance. Still, she did her best to maintain her confidence and give the illusion that she believed she could actually win.

Every chance he got, he was grabbing her bowling ball for her, ensuring their fingers touched each time he handed it over. Even though she wasn’t nearly as skilled as he was, he hyped her up any time she knocked over even one pin. He was a jokester, and their playful, teasing banter had the butterflies in his stomach working overtime, but he also wanted her to have fun and feel good about her abilities.

“Now the big-ticket question I’ve been wanting to ask—what made you wanna become a doctor?”

“It’s kind of a silly story,” she sighed as he returned the bowling ball to her. She’d become accustomed to receiving rather snide comments when answering that question, and her evening was going too well to have it ruined over her response to a classic first-date question.

He picked up on her hesitation, the regret settling in as he worried he possibly struck a nerve or unintentionally brought up a touchy subject. He hoped a sprinkle of humor would provide some encouragement. “This is the Scudster you’re dealin’ with. Silly is my middle name.”

‘Scudster’ made her giggle and eased her nerves, so she decided she’d tell her story, hoping to whatever might be out there that he wouldn’t think it was stupid. “When I was three, one of my brothers got into an accident, landed himself in the hospital. One of the surgeons was this beautiful woman with long auburn hair, and she was wearing a floral dress and a white coat. Me, being three, saw any woman with long hair and a pretty dress and thought she was a princess, as most little girls do.”

“So I asked her. Toddled right up to her as she was talking to my mom and asked her if she was a princess. And she crouched down to my level with the biggest, brightest smile on her face and said “of course I am!” Then I turned to my mom and said “Mommy, I wanna be a princess when I grow up!” Princess, in that moment, meaning someone who wears pretty dresses and a white coat and saves lives like the way the pretty lady in front of me was saving my brother’s. Of course, as I got older, I learned what a doctor was, but I never wavered from that decision. Not even once.”

She waited with bated breath for him to say something, anything. The first thing he did was laugh, but not in a mocking way or a ‘wow, that’s stupid’ kind of way. It was the laugh of someone who’d just heard a baby giggle or watched a puppy chase their own tail. “That’s probably the most adorable thing I’ve heard in a long time.”

“You sure it’s not silly, not even a little bit? Most people think it is.” He gave her an empathetic sigh as his hand found her shoulder, and he subconsciously drew small circles with his fingers, hoping it would offer some solace. How could anyone find such a wholesome and precious story silly or stupid?

“You’re a smart woman, Vee. I’m sure you’ve gathered that I’m not “most people.” It’s super cute. I may be “unserious,” but I’m no liar.”

“Well thank you,” she replied, batting her lashes as she briefly dropped her gaze to the floor. They reveled in that pocket of time for a few moments, his hand still drawing small circles on her shoulder, and she brought her baby blues back to meet his. Blue was her favorite color, and the specific shade of his irises was quickly becoming her favorite one. “What about you, bandana boy? What got you into being an auto mechanic?”

“I used to work as an inventor. That’s just more of a hobby now.” He stepped away long enough to take the red bowling ball he’d been using for his next turn. “My dad taught me stuff about cars when I was younger, so that and the inventor skills carried over nicely into being a mechanic.”

Vec’s ears perked up at the mention of the word ‘inventor.’ Given how fascinating he already was, she didn’t think it was possible, but he’d just gotten a lot more interesting. “An inventor, huh? That’s so cool! What kind of stuff do you make?”

He took his turn before responding to her inquiry. “Used to make weapons for this guy. One might say he was kind of a sketchy character, but he was a nice guy. Never gave me any trouble unless he was up my ass about not getting something done fast enough.”

“You’re cute, funny, and you have cool hobbies? It’s like I won the jackpot or something.” She blinked a few times and shook her head gently, like she was shaking herself from a trance, before stifling a breathy chuckle and locking eyes with him. “I’m doing the thing again, aren’t I?”

She’d been bold from the moment they met—hell, even before that, given the initial bandana comment she’d made about him to his boss—but he found it cute that there were moments that she thought she was being ‘too much.’ He’d never once thought she was too much. There weren’t any words in the English language that captured how much he loved how forward, brazen, and shameless she was.

“Told you I liked how bold you are,” he assured, giving her a delicate pat on the small of her back, “I’ll be right back. Gotta hit up the little boy’s room. Try not to have too much fun without me.”

As he sauntered off, she took the opportunity to check in with her best friend. Leaning back against the kiosk, she took her phone from her bag and saw that she had a new message from Georgie.

Ginny 🌻: How’s it going? ☺️ Are you having fun? 💛

Vec: I don’t think it could be going any more perfectly. I can’t wait to tell you about it 💙

Vec: He’s kicking my ass though

Ginny 🌻: Can’t have that, now can we?

Vec: Well, it wouldn’t be so bad if he won ☺️

Ginny 🌻: Oh???

Vec: Maybe he’ll get a little 💋

Ginny 🌻: OH 👀

Chuckling softly to herself, she slipped her phone back into her bag, returning it to its home on the kiosk. She tapped her foot on the floor, taking a deep breath and focusing on the clicking of the bowling shoe on the wood. It was a small attempt, but she hoped it would be enough to rid herself of the anxious energy creeping through every inch of her body. When he was around, it was like all of nerves channeled themselves into her flirting, but the moment she was alone with her thoughts, she was spiraling.

“Didn’t have too much fun without me, did you?” His voice startled her, but not enough to make her jump.

“Of course not,” she replied, giving him a gentle nudge to the shoulder with hers, her voice laced with sarcasm. He scanned his baby blues over her face, stopping briefly on her lips before meeting hers again, and for a moment, she thought he might plant one on her.

He wanted to, though. He badly wanted to. But his own nerves, and the thought in the back of his mind of her military brothers kicking his ass if he made a wrong move, were getting in his way.

“The glitter looks cool,” he complimented, haphazardly gesturing to his own cheek.

Despite the gesturing, she cocked an eyebrow, confused. “What glitter?”

“Tilt your head up,” he instructed, but before she could do it on her own accord, he had his fingers under her chin, gently tipping her head back and adjusting the position until her cheekbone caught the light, “to the side, a little more, there you go.” He tapped gently on her cheekbone, careful not to ruin or smudge her hard work. “Right there.”

Vec was clenching her teeth to keep herself grounded in reality. If she didn’t, she was certain she would fold on the spot. Every time he touched her, she was ready to melt like putty in his hands, and she just hoped he couldn’t feel the heat radiating off of her cheeks from her blushing.

“Oh, that’s highlighter,” she explained, “it’s a shimmery powder you put on areas you want to…well, highlight, make stand out.” She shook her head softly to allow the highlight on her nose to catch the light. “Got it here too.”

Everything she said, he looked at her like it was the most damn interesting thing in the world, regardless of how ‘unimportant’ it seemed. Even something as simple as the shimmer on her cheekbones intrigued him, and it certainly didn’t go unnoticed by her.

“You’re gonna have to show to me how you do that. It looks great.”

“I’m not a professional by any means, but thank you.” She tore her eyes from his long enough to look up at the screen and see that it was their last turn for this round.

“I’d love to be able to make a strike, even just once,” she sighed, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I could help. Get you set up perfectly and all that,” he offered. He didn’t even bother trying to hold back how eager he was. “If you want, that is.”

“Yeah.” Her smile softened as she met his gaze again. “I’d like that.” The look in her eyes and the way she said “I’d like that” had his heart pounding against the inside of his ribcage.

He grabbed the infamous blue bowling ball and met her at the lane, standing behind her after handing it over. “So you gotta line it up just right.” His hands found her hips, keeping his touch light as he coaxed her to shift to the center. “This good?”

“It’s great,” she replied, her voice cracking as she fought to control her anxiety. She’d hoped that the nosies of other families surrounding them would mask the crack in her voice, but his breath tickling her ear as he chuckled told her otherwise. Despite her boldness, Scud had noticed her getting flustered all evening, and to him, it was nothing short of adorable.

“You wanna aim just off of dead center to account for it curving.” Now, it was her turn to have her heart hammering against the inside of her ribcage as he adjusted her arms and straightened her shoulders, all while keeping his spot right behind her.

Taking a deep breath to calm down—both from the mounting pressure she was placing on herself to make a strike and having a handsome man who couldn’t keep his hands off her mere inches from her back—she followed his directions to a T, rolling just off of dead center and allowing the ball to curve as it traveled down the lane.

Boom. Strike.

“Oh my God, I did it!” Vec cried, twirling in circles a few times before launching into Scud’s arms. She threw her arms around his neck, practically squealing with delight, the excitement coursing through her body rapidly bubbling over. His chuckling in her ear was one of the sweetest sounds she’d ever heard. However, when his arms snaked around her waist, it occurred to her she might’ve gotten a little carried away. “Shit, sorry, I got excited.” She went to pull away, but he kept her in place, wrapping his arms around her further until her chest was flush with his. He wanted to stay in that little pocket of time forever.

“Don’t apologize.” He was reveling in the moment, and the last thing he wanted was for her to be feeling sorry for it. “You crushed it, Buttercup.”

She picked her head up to look at him, her curls tickling his cheek. Despite only a subtle cock of her eyebrows, the confusion on her face was obvious. “What did you call me?”

“Buttercup. Like the Powerpuff girl. Seems fitting for you.”

“I’m choosing to take that as a compliment.”

“You should, ‘cause it was certainly meant to be one. She’s always been my favorite.” She looked beautiful with her face done, but he loved seeing her blush with every compliment he gave. He could only hope she was turning red under her makeup. And she certainly was.

“Hair got all messy,” he teased, looking over the strands that had fallen in her face and flipped around her part, “guess it’s my turn to fix yours.”

He did the same as she had before, taking different chunks and moving them back to their place so her part was nice and straight again. It didn’t take long, but during those few seconds, her knees went weak, and if she hadn’t been so focused on holding herself up with her arms around his neck, she would’ve collapsed. He thought about putting his hands in her hair to fluff it before calling it quits, but he opted against it, the thought of her military big-brothers creeping back to the front of his mind. They were going to be the death of him.

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a round to win.” His mischievous joke elicited an eye roll and a giggly scoff from her.

The moment he made his final strike, he did one last fist pump, turning back to her and playfully sticking his tongue like a child. “Told you you were gonna get shredded.”

She was blushing so hard this time, she was positive her cheeks were glowing & the heat radiating off her face would melt her foundation right off. She loved piercings, tattoos, any sort of body modification. Upon seeing his, her mind immediately went in the most nefarious direction imaginable.

“Whoa, you have a tongue piercing? That had to have hurt like a bitch,” she exclaimed, doing her best to mask how flustered she was despite the crack in her voice and the double take she did.

“It did, but it looks dope, so it was worth it. You like it?” She more than just liked it.

She’s definitely thinking what I think she is, he thought as a little smirk broke through, but he didn’t mind at all. He was flattered that her mind was going in that direction, and he would’ve been lying if he said his wasn’t doing the same.

“Yeah, it’s awesome. I love piercings. I’ve only got my ears done, but I don’t even get to wear earrings often because of my job. Can’t have a stud falling into somebody’s intestines or something.” She pretended to clear her throat to prevent her voice from breaking further. “Anyway, that was only round one. We’ve got two more. I still have a chance to beat you.”

Those next two rounds were much the same, consisting of them chatting and getting to know each other throughout their turns with plenty of flirtatious touching to accompany it. Despite some assistance from him, he crushed her in every single round. As it was a Friday night, it was rather noisy and busy in the bowling alley, but it was like they were the only two people in the room. They were in their own little bubble, as far as they were concerned, a bubble they could’ve stayed in eternally if they were allowed to.

“I’m a doctor, not an athlete.” she joked, balancing herself on the counter to finish putting her boots back on.

“You still did good,” he commended. When she finished with her boots, he propped his arm in her direction, indicating to her to take it if she wanted. “Guess we’ll just have to come back so I can teach you.”

Gracing him with her soft smile, she took his arm, delighted with the clear enthusiasm he had about what some might call ‘showing her off.’ It had been a long time since she’d been on a date with a man so comfortable with PDA, especially on a first date. It was refreshing, and it had her swooning big time. Scud wasn’t like any man she’d met before, and that was precisely the type of man she needed. “I guess we will.”

She clung to his arm as they stepped out into the parking lot. It was dark now, the automatic lamps in the lot having flipped on and the streets flooding with people heading out for their Friday night, end-of-the-work-week antics. She used her free hand to brush her hair out of her face, and she could feel his gorgeous ocean eyes on her, studying every microscopic move she made. Even the mundane act of her brushing some hair out of her eyes brought a smile to his face. He was falling hard, fast, and he knew it and had no problems with it.

“I don’t know about you Vee, but I’m not ready for this night to be over. You hungry at all?”

“I ate a little before I came, so I’m not ravenous, but I’m not ready to be done either.”

“There’s a nice bar up the street. What do you say I buy you a drink? I’d love to keep talking.” There was a teeny tiny sparkle in his eye at the declaration of wanting to continue their evening over drinks, and Vec couldn’t help but let her small smile warp into one that stretched from ear-to-ear.

“I’d like that.” She slipped her arm out from his, and she could’ve sworn the sparkle in his eye faded to sadness for a brief moment as she pulled away and reached for her bag, taking out her phone. “I just have to text my best friend first. It’s nothing personal, I promise. Part of girl code is keeping each other informed of our locations on dates.”

Vec: We’re walking to this nearby bar. I think it’s called Whistler’s? He didn’t say, but it’s the only one I can think of up the street.

“Nah, you got someone lookin’ out for you. That’s good,” he commented. Based on the inflection in his voice, he’d clearly taken no offense, but even if he had, it wouldn’t have mattered to her. She was simply doing what she needed to keep herself safe.

She slipped her phone back into her bag and adjusted it on her arm. Looking past his shoulder down the street, she nodded in the general direction. “You thinking we walk?”

“I was hopin’ we would.” Grazing his fingers against the back of her hand, he kept his touch light as he trailed them around and slipped them between hers. Vec had never been more thankful for the dark, and for full-coverage foundation, than she was in that moment. As she locked eyes with him, her small smile contorted into a giant grin, her delight turning his smirk into a smile. “It’s dark. Wouldn’t want you to get lost.”

Vec belongs to me

Georgie belongs to @dixons-sunshine

QOTU taglist: @ripleyswife @gothic-pumpkin @weirdoneattheparty @holdmytesseract

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Want to become a head of the council? Hit up either myself or Krys to be added to the taglist :)

Banner, divider, and © below were also made by Krys

[genericpuff]

How long do you plan making rekindled? I loved Lo at some point, But now I cant get enough of your version!! And I wanted to know how did you come up with the darker back stories for Rekindled?

I have a semi-detailed skeleton of the plot with basically every story beat planned out, but I can't definitively say how long it will be as I haven't actually scripted every single episode out yet.

Not to mention a lot of the time my scripts will change from their original versions, by the time I get to an episode I've planned ahead for I've either thought of new ways to do it or don't like how it's paced so I change it. Case in point, there was a specific scene I had planned for the next episode and then wound up not liking the pacing because it was too fast so I moved it to several episodes away and restructured everything on the fly, took a whole new text document and scrapping sketches to figure shit out LOL I actually do have up until Episode 70ish scripted out in my documents with like, actual notes and dialogue for each episode, but I already have sooo many of those crossed out now because of how much I've had to tweak and change as time has gone on. This is why I plan ahead well in advance though, so that if I do need to make those changes, I can make them long before the episodes are even due to be drawn (and believe me, they get changed during the sketching phases too LOL).

What I can confirm for certain is that the current 'arc' we're in right now is definitely the bulk of the story. And that's not to say there isn't any content afterwards, more like the pacing just gets completely turned on its head in the last 30-40% of it where shit gets N U T S and just can't go back to the same energy that it was in the beginning. Without spoiling, there's a certain 'turning point' in the plot and everything after it isn't quite as long as the stint of story we're in now. This is mostly because the arc we're currently in is still establishing a bunch of stuff like the Underworld Corp, Persephone's schooling, etc. and once that turning point hits, it's basically all character development and focusing on the consequences of everything setup in the first arc.

I guess if I had to illustrate it, the story progression in the end will look something like this?

It's basically just this slow and chill climb that, once it hits that sharp peak, doesn't ever return to normal levels LMAO So I guess enjoy this part of the story while you can because it's the chillest it'll ever be w(°ｏ°)w And boy, I am EXCITED for that peak, but we have a long way to go before we get there. As for how long, well, I'm hoping I'll be able to have Rekindled's story wrapped up in the next 2 years, tops. Just depends on how the update schedule goes, and assuming the plans I have put down for the plotting don't change in any major way. I don't have as much of the latter half of the story actually scripted out yet so for all I know it could wind up being way longer than anticipated, but right now I have a pretty good sense of how the story beats will play out in relation to each other.

So it's kind of a wait and see thing, at least until I have every episode scripted out, and even then I won't be 100% sure because things are always being tweaked and fixed and changed on the fly! I'm guessing it won't go much longer than 170 episodes, give or take, but that's a very very VERY rough estimate.

Regardless, Rekindled still has a lot more story to tell, and I'm hoping y'all enjoy the ride with me <3

As for the darker backstories, y'all don't even know yet. Like... I've got stuff planned. Stuff that even Banshriek (my BG assistant) doesn't know about. Stuff that I keep buried very deep in Rekindled's episode documents that won't see the light of day until they have to be ripped out of the deep dark trenches of the characters' own buried secrets, and by that point, the toothpaste will be out of the tube, there will be no going back. So, again... enjoy it while it lasts. Because I don't pull my punches. And maybe even you won't be able to look at me the same way again once the final blow has been dealt.

Sleep well.

:)

[nobedofroses]

October 14th

pairing: Pero Tovar x fem!reader

warnings: reader has given birth in the last few months, mentions of nursing

words: 743

a/n: Hmm I don't know that I can count the word "cottage" as a prompt from @illfoandillfie since I had to come up with everything else (lmao ily). Little bit of missing Pero, little bit of reuniting

Directory, Day 13

🎃🎃🎃

A year after your last autumnal visit to the market, Pero was there selling another horse and you were not. You had wanted to go and he had so wanted you to go, but your tiny baby girl, Alma, was too little to travel yet. With tears in your eyes and an oblivious three month old in your arms, you bid Pero goodbye with a sweet, loving kiss that you kind of hoped would be enough to keep him there. It sadly didn’t work, but he did look back several times as he rode away. 

Pero was only going to be gone one night since he wasn’t going to be spending extra time with you in the market and had even offered to make the trip in one day, but you didn’t want him traveling that late or for that long. 

It was surprising all the ways you missed him for just one day. The way he always got up earlier than you so he could build up the fire and bring your housecoat from where you left it by the washbasin like you always did. How he would scoop up Alma after she was done nursing to burp and take care of her so you could rest and relax. The way he spoke to her as he patted her back, telling her about what the plan was for the day with the horses and asking what she was planning to do with her day. 

Thinking about all of this when you fed Alma after he left made you a little misty-eyed as you took care of her by yourself, more out of absolute love for Pero than being sad that he was gone for a day, but it was pretty close. 

You ate your meals with William and Charlotte in the inn so you could have some adult company and because it was strange to cook for one. Plus they loved every second they had with their niece. 

That night, when you were getting ready for bed, you had to build up the fire a little extra. The nights were getting colder and colder and you wouldn’t have Pero to keep you warm. 

In the morning, you went through your normal routine, pointedly trying not to think about the differences you had anticipated yesterday, and instead focused on the fact that Pero would be back in a couple hours. And with him would be goods for not only your home, but some medicines and things for whoever wanted to buy or trade for them in the village. You also knew there would probably be a book or two and something for Alma, which was exciting. 

At lunch, Charlotte half-jokingly offered to take Alma until dinner so the two of you could have a proper reunion. You laughed but said that Pero would want to see Alma as soon as he got home. And he’d have to unpack. And take care of his horse, Fred. Then she suggested taking her after dinner until you came and got her for her last feeding and bed and you readily agreed. 

Pero came back within an hour after lunch. Alma was napping in her bassinet, so you rushed outside to be able to embrace him as soon as he got off his horse. Possibly you had been watching out the window for him. 

His strong arms were around you in an instant. You buried your face where his neck met his shoulder and said, “Pero, oh darling, I missed you so much.” 

“A mi también, querida. So much.”

You loved being enveloped in him like this, but you knew Fred should be unburdened and you shouldn’t leave Alma alone for much longer. 

“Alma’s napping, but I’ll bring her out to you if she wakes up before you’re done,” you told Pero, knowing he’d want to see her as soon as possible. 

“Yes, perfect. I’ll be in as soon as I can,” Pero said before bringing you in for a deep kiss that you weren’t expecting. 

When he released you, you stood there for a second, dazed, until Pero grabbed your shoulders and bodily turned you back to the cottage. You walked back, a little wobbly, and when you got to the door and turned back to look at Pero, he was watching you with a grin. 

You felt your cheeks flush with heat but wondered if maybe you should’ve taken Charlotte up on her first offer.

🎃🎃🎃

[humanitys-strongest-bamf]

saw you might be taking requests? can you do a drabble where y/n is a survivor of domestic abuse and levi ends up raising his voice at some point and y/n gets triggered and levi comforts them? pls skip if ur uncomfortable with this!

absolutely LOVE that my very first aot request is heavy angst

You're Safe | Levi Hurt/Comfort Oneshot

✧ word count ➼ 1.6k (i think this word count is just my standard at this point lmao) ✧ content/warnings: mentions of abuse, panic attacks, dissociation, canon!verse, reader is a survivor of domestic abuse, levi being comforting in his levi way, all the not fun stuff that comes with being a survivor, please let me know if i missed any trigger warnings! ✧ notes ➼ I know that everyone's experience with being a survivor is vastly different. If you would like it portrayed in a different way, feel free to send me another ask and I will try my best to match it :) Not sure if this needs to be said, but if you ever need support or solidarity, my ask is always open!

You could tell that something was off the minute he walked in through the door. 

While Levi was rarely in a “good” mood after expeditions, you could tell that this most recent one must have gone much worse than anticipated. It was already getting late into the night and your anxiety was already elevated, having been waiting for Levi to arrive back home all day. The debrief must have taken much, much longer than usual, which was never a good sign.

You came out of your study to meet him in the living room, your heart dropping when you saw the dark look on his face and how ruffled his uniform and hair was. 

“Levi?” you asked quietly as you approached him. 

You could tell that he was exhausted and incredibly stressed at the same time. He looked like he was about to collapse down onto the ground and that it was taking all his energy to keep going.

You reached out slowly and placed your hand on his arm, gently holding him. 

“What happened?”

“Nothing,” he grumbled, shrugging you off. “Just a long day.”

You gave him a small, half-hearted smile, knowing that it was definitely not “just a long day”. However, you knew that it took Levi much longer than a normal person to process distress and decompress and given the fact that he was in the Scouts and took regular deadly expeditions outside of the walls, distress was a constant in his life.

“You know that’s not true,” you said quietly, turning towards him as he walked past you. “Talk to me, Levi.”

He stopped walking and you heard a soft sigh come from his mouth. 

“Not now, _____.”

You frowned at him, knowing that “not now” easily translated to “not at all”. Although you knew to give him space, you also knew that if he went to bed in distress tonight, then he would wake up even worse tomorrow, which would make him detach even more, leading into an endless cycle of self-destruction and stonewalling.

“Levi, please,” you said, approaching him again. “What happened? Talk to me.”

He stopped walking and quickly glanced at you with irritation showing in his eyes.

“I said not now, _____!” he yelled out, a bit louder than he had intended to.

You felt yourself flinch and freeze as your blood ran cold. The sudden and drastic change from near silence to his voice bouncing off the walls immediately brought your mind from the present reality and into a dissociative state as you felt your eyes lose focus and your ability to perceive the room around you began to dissipate. Your breathing destabilized as you took a step back away from him.

Given your current state, you weren’t able to see Levi’s eyes widen as he realized what had just happened. You couldn’t see his face pale upon seeing your reaction. You couldn’t see him walking towards you as you quickly turned away, maintaining distance from him. You couldn’t see him open his mouth to speak or hear any words that were meant to come out after.

“I need to go to the restroom,” you muttered quickly as you rushed to the bathroom in the most composed way that you could, as tears began to cloud your vision.

Once you were in the bathroom, you shut the door behind you and leaned over the sink, unable to keep the tears back any longer. You shut your eyes as disturbing memories, ones that you thought you had stored away for good, emerged. You shook your head in an attempt to get them to go away and took a sharp inhale, your breath getting caught in your throat. You vaguely heard that your sobbing was audible due to your unsteady breathing and you quickly covered your mouth in an attempt to muffle yourself.

You felt the world begin to spin around you as you cursed at yourself in frustration. You didn’t understand why you were like this. What had happened was a long time ago. You knew that Levi wasn’t that person. You knew that he wouldn’t hurt you. You knew that, even when he was frustrated, he would never take his anger out on you. 

So why the hell do I still feel this way?!

You opened your eyes again once you heard a gentle knock on the bathroom door with it slightly opening since you hadn’t closed it all the way. You saw Levi approaching from the other side of the door and you immediately looked away, quickly wiping the tears off your face in a vain attempt to keep him from seeing your crying, although there was no hiding your swollen eyes or how red your nose had become from sniffling.

There was a solemn look on Levi’s usually expressionless face. He knew what was running through your head. He knew about the rampant thoughts that must have been plaguing your mind. His heart had dropped once he saw your reaction, but at that point, it was too late to take back what had just happened.

“Hey, _____,” he said, his voice gentle and soft.

You continued to look away, averting eye contact. 

“I’m fine, Levi,” you said with a flat tone, desperately trying to mask your vulnerable state.

You saw him place his hand down on the sink near you without actually making physical contact.

“Can I come closer?” he asked, still keeping his voice low, never taking his eyes off you.

You were quiet for a second as you continued to try to control the tears that were gathering in the corners of your eyes again. You shakily nodded at him as you slowly turned towards him again.

He slowly approached you, pausing for a second before gently placing his hands on your shoulders. He had approached you slowly, noticing that you slightly flinched again when he raised his hands. The most important thing to him right now was to ground you back to the present moment, and indicate that there was no danger.

After he felt you slightly relax upon his touch, he pulled you into a tight hug, placing his hand at the back of your head to hold you in as you buried your face into his chest.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered to you. “I shouldn’t have raised my voice.”

Upon hearing that, you weren’t able to hold your tears back anymore as you gripped at him, with your sobs becoming audible. You pressed your face against him, as if you were desperately trying to hide.

“N-No,” you said quietly, with your voice slightly muffled. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I still act like this. I don’t want you to feel like I don’t t-trust you or that I’m afraid of you or that I-”

“Stop,” he whispered, cutting you off. “It’s okay.”

He gently ran his fingers through your hair in an attempt to soothe and comfort you, placing a kiss on the top of your head.

You continued to press yourself against him. Although you were still sobbing and soaking his shirt with tears, your breathing had stabilized and you no longer felt like there was a storm tearing through your mind.

You both stood there for a minute as he continued to soothe you and ground you back into the present. 

Once he heard you take a deep breath, he spoke again.

“Come,” he said quietly, pulling away slightly, and gently directing you out of the bathroom and into the living room, leading you to the couch.

He sat down, pulling you in as you followed suit. 

You curled yourself into a ball, resting your head against his chest, taking comfort in the gentle rhythm of his heartbeat and the warm touch of you leaning against him. You still felt incredibly embarrassed from getting so heavily triggered and continued to hide your face in him.

After a few minutes of silence, you finally took another deep breath and pulled away slightly to look up at him.

“I’m sorry,” you said, wiping away any residual tears that had gathered on your cheeks. “I feel pathetic.”

He looked at you, his eyebrows slightly coming together as worry entered his eyes at your statement.

“Well, you don’t have to, but I know it’s hard,” he said quietly, gently brushing his fingers against your cheek and tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear so that he could see your face better. “It’s okay.”

He placed his other hand on your waist, giving you a gentle squeeze as a method of reassuring you of his prolonged presence.

You gripped at his shirt to ground yourself. You were here with Levi. The person you lived with currently was not your abuser. The person you found yourself being held by was someone that loved you unconditionally, in the best way that you wanted to be loved. This person cared and would never bring harm to you. You knew that. 

Slowly, a small smile appeared on your face as you parted your lips to speak again.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

He returned the smile, pulling you into a gentle kiss that lasted for more than a few seconds. 

You allowed yourself to relish in his scent, his touch, the sound of his breathing, the feeling of his hands against you, and how, despite him being relatively small as a person, you felt engulfed by him, as if his presence was able to wash away all of the chaos that resided in your mind.

He pulled and rested his forehead on yours.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered, matching your volume. “You’re safe.”

[orviposition]

can you list out some of the unhinged things sp has done? im re-reading orv rn and it just genuinely amazes me how seriously i took this guy when his arc came about XD prior to that he was just the silly chill dude that sent weird silly messages lol

sp enjoyer pipeline be like: hehe silly guy -> wow thats terrifying -> he's pathetic actually <3 -> oh he's so sad 😢 -> he's so pathetic <3 -> good for him honestly -> he's so pathetic-

i will try my best to list as many things that i remember but also note that im aware not every message kdj received was sent by him as opposed by the kkomas but i Might overlook some of these since the kkomas are part of him too

sp was shown to like kdj at his most wicked, as he calls it, just for him to call him pathetic in front of yjh. it's okay beloved ik this was crucial to your character development

he finds the idea of yjh impregnating kdj to be ridiculous and then sponsors kdj 600 coins (yes ive checked)

speaking of sponsorships that one time he basically mocked the constellations of silla by sponsoring kdj the coins that mjw was trying to give to kdj lol he's a shit disturber at heart (his 666th turn exists after all)

he also congratulated kdj when he became sys's sponsor (isnt he cute) and then kdj went on a tangent about how theres no way sp is ordinary cuz no glucose guardian can possibly be weak and ordinary regardless of the simple titles

he can comfort a sad swk and gossip about joongdok to uriel (well probably kkomas but REGARDLESS theres at least one kkoma thats a fudanshi. thats enough for me)

he crashed the constellation banquet like it was nothing. shit disturber as i said

when fourth wall is deactivated briefly, sp 'snaps' at the outer gods/great ones trying to spy on kdj while simultaneously spying on kdj himself

he sacrificed his fingers in order to save kimcom and when kdj tried to "rebel" like !!what if i dont do what you want? he went i still have more fingers left. like kdj bestie ur not winning an argument against him rn

he showed up in white, a color yjh very much "detests" and kidnapped kdj in front of yjh. not only that but he also mocked yjh's powerlessness while he was at it. it's the way the only reason sp hates this version of yjh is bcs he has kdj and he didnt for me

he's created 1.8k+ chibi dolls of himself

next is the 2nd kidnapping. can you call it unhinged if one of your exes shows up at your door and she immediately realizes that theres someone you desperately want to protect even after ruining so many worldlines?? idk tis up to yall

when he mentioned to poseidon that he has already killed him 25 times just for shits and giggles and then proceeded to kill him again

when astronaut yjh was abt to die and sp shows up like "bitch u wish for that luxury" "anw this will be the last time i save your weakass cuz unlike you i actually got a kdj to take care of. bye lmao"

anw this got longer than i anticipated but here it is. my lil list of sp's unhinged moments. im pretty sure I've missed a few here and there but this guy is mentioned like 800 times in the novel and i dont have the patience to look through it all without getting distracted

[king-candybug-backup]

So did you ever end up adding those extra scenes to part 2? 👀 I re-read it to check, but I don't think I saw anything different? Maybe I'm just blind though?

(Sorry if it seems like I'm complaining or rushing, I promise I'm not trying to, I'm just really hyperfixated and excited for any crumbs of Turbo content buhuhuh)

No need to apologize, I am also extremely hyperfixated on him right now, so I feel you 😂 I hadn’t added the new scenes at the time of this ask being sent, no, but they are added in now! I unfortunately had some irl stuff come up that had to take priority, so it took me longer than anticipated to edit lmao, but I got it done eventually

Tbh I’ll just put screenshots (you'll have to click on it to see 'em, but I don't want tumblr doing anything weird to my blog again, so alas) of the scenes here so that you don’t have to read the entire chapter again just for a couple of small scenes lol, here you go: First we have the added conversation before the Sinistar attack:

And here is the scene before King Candy tries to shank her lol:

I did also edit one of Candy’s “feelings” paragraphs to kinda imply that he thinks Vanellope’s intentionally messing with him or plotting something for revenge’s sake, I thought that’d help a little bit in explaining why he’s still so extremely angry about everything even though she’s been way too nice to him, lol

[onboardsorasora]

Another 'idk what this is' post lmao. But my attempt at girl!Dan

Daniel entered the event, ducking her head a little to let her curls— that were more defined and perfect looking— cover her face a little. She was a little uncomfortable, but Blake and the stylist from their new main sponsor said she looked good.

This wasn’t the sort of outfit she normally went for, the flared pants were different to her usual (ripped) skinny jeans, but they cupped her ass and thighs in a very flattering way. The top was definitely nothing she had in her closet, it was slinky and metallic and exposed her entire back— which was a work of art thanks to her years of work and effort.

Christian, the man of the hour, was the first to see her and his eyes widened in surprise was enough to tell her that this deviation from her usual outfits was ‘radical’ indeed.

“Daniel. Wow.” Daniel smiled in embarrassment. She didn't surprise Christian often, in fact she last time she surprised him was in 2014 when she beat Seb. And maybe in 2018 when she signed for Renault. But that was different.

“Happy Birthday Boss!” Daniel grinned, clinging to Geri when she came over to hug her as well. Geri’s hand on her bare back felt odd but not as weird as she anticipated.

“Is this Hugo?” Geri asked, figuring the tiny eyelets that made up her top. Daniel nodded, she was head to toe in the former Alpha Tauri’s new sponsor. All her jewelry to her shoes. Even her underwear– including the nipple pasties.

“Yeah, Kelly the stylist came prepared.” Daniel joked. She knew Yuki was wandering around somewhere, he'd been marginally easier to dress and Daniel had many moments tonight where she wished she hadn't grown out her hair.

“Have you seen Max?” Christian asked, his voice was odd, maybe.

“No, I just walked in actually. Haven't even had a drink yet.”

“Of course, of course.” Christian nodded before encouraging her to chat with the executives around, all the important people invited to Christian’s 50th in Vegas. The race was in a few days, Daniel hoped she could stay the minimum amount of time and go.

She'd spent a little time talking to some new Alpha Tauri– Hugo Boss executives before she wandered to the bar. She leaned forward on her elbows, swiping her loose curls over one shoulder.

“hi, can I get you a drink?” A familiar voice sounded from her right and Daniel tucked her head on her palm and smiled over at her friend and former teammate.

“It's an open bar mate. Does that actually work on women?” She grinned at Max who took a moment to piece her voice with the person he was looking at. If she thought Christian’s surprise was impressive, Max's was almost a religious experience.

“Daniel? Wow– I didn't recognize you.” Max gushed, eyes wide. He was blushing, and Daniel fought hers to continue to tease him.

“So about this open bar, I'd love a tequila.” Daniel grinned at him, she could feel the gloss on her lips when she smiled widely. She hoped her eyes weren't completely hidden by her new lashes.

Max looked... Well she'd never seen him look [at her] like this before. He kept looking her up and down; like he was seeing her for the first time, like he didn't recognize her.

A bartender came over at Max's wave as if they knew that he specifically wasn't to be left waiting. Daniel wondered if her own picture was taped up at the back of the bar but they didn't recognize her with her new look. It didn't matter because Max ordered exactly what she wanted, down to the brand of tequila she preferred and how she liked her glass prepared. She didn't realize he paid this close attention.

Max handed her the drink, his fingers lingering on hers for a beat longer than normal. Daniel smiled at him in thanks, determined not to think too deep into it. It was Max– nothing was happening.

Max smiled his crinkley eyed smile at her as if she'd said something funny– she hadn't. Then led her away from the bar with a hand to the small of her back.

It felt…different than when Geri did it. Geri's fingers mainly did the touching, Max's palm was pressed into her skin, branding her like a tattoo. It's apt because her back was the only place she hadn't yet covered in ink.

Max was talking to her, but she couldn't concentrate on what he was saying. Hyper aware of his skin against hers. It wasn't like it was the first time he's led her around with a proprietary hand, in fact it was pretty normal. But she'd never… she'd never noticed it until now. Not until it was skin against skin. It was harder to hide when there were no clothes to hide behind.

“Daniel, are you paying attention?” Max's voice broke her thoughts and she sipped her drink for something to do.

“Sorry Maxy, got a bit distracted there.” She bit her lip, letting it go quickly at the taste of lipgloss. She truly wasn't used to it. She looked at Max through her new lashes– his gaze was on her lips.

“I, of course, understand.” He murmured, it sounded as if he didn't even realize he was talking. “Daniel I–”

“Ricciardo Daniel, as I live and breathe. Is that you?” George interrupted and Daniel had never before now wished George could disappear so she could hear what Max had been going to say. He had shaken his head as if to clear his thoughts and taken a sip of his gin tonic.

Daniel smiled at George, wildly wondering if she imagined the twitch of Max's hand on her back.

“Russel George! it is I, I am me!” She chuckled and glanced over at Max to see he'd adopted his resting ‘go away’ face. Daniel was starting to feel lightheaded.

Part 2