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#look its been a long day and this took me two of those
flightyalrighty · 3 hours
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FIRST | PREVIOUS | NEXT CH 1 PG 36
Infested will return on June 27th. --- Thank you to the following Ascended supporters: @chaogongoozles, @fiiresiidefrfr, @elizard4227, @grogar, Ezzoh, @susivoi, @calculuscacophony, Eros, @ivycorp, @borrelia, @mizukiz, @sanicdetails, @combinegrunt-echo-1, Pica, @veeceear, @quackenburt, ItsmeMonarch, @memendoemori, @trans-girl-sonic, & savarsenic
Content Warnings | Store | Ko-Fi | Read On Comic Fury! DISCLAIMER: "Infested" is a horror comic ft. content not suitable for those under the age of 17.
A long-winded looking back on things below the cut:
The first few pages of Infested were uploaded to this blog on March 2nd, 2023 -- Over a whole year ago! I was so busy, too, that I completely missed its birthday (Sorry Infested). Looking even further back than that, the original story was was something I began writing on December 25th, 2022 (Merry Christmas).
It took two years to get to this point.
And hey, not to toot my own horn about it, but completing even one chapter of a webcomic is a big deal. Especially for me. My first webcomic, Fight/Flight, didn't get very far. I completed the prologue, started Chapter 1, and then had to drop it for a number of reasons (I didn't really agree with what baby-me had to say, politically, anymore).
This comic was born from a lot of intense feelings. The story, itself, too. Some good. Some bad.
I had been forced to move away from my hometown, and with that move, I lost the physical connection that I had to all of my friends. I lost the familiarity of a place I'd known for most of my life. I'm now stuck somewhere... Worse. It felt like a cage. Still does. Disconnected from the life I thought I would be living after college. I didn't have health insurance, either -- Got kicked off of it because of the move -- And as a result, I was off my antidepressants.
So there I was, at a pretty low point in my life. I miserable and lonely and every single day dragged on. And on. And on. And I felt so disappointed in myself. That disappointment became self-loathing, and it all kinda spiraled.
Have I mentioned that I'm a huge Sonic fan? I don't think I need to. I'd say it's pretty obvious. But for the sake of this story, I'll say it again: I'm a HUGE Sonic fan. I've been that way since 2003 with Sonic Heroes. The franchise has been in my life for over two decades. I had a monthly mail subscription to Archie's Sonic the Hedgehog. Sonic the Hedgehog was something that I truly loved more than any other piece of media. It brought me endless joy. Until I didn't.
I had dropped Sonic after Lost World was... Itself. I had already felt pretty irritated with the Meta Era, and Lost World was the final straw. The last bit of hope that the series could recover was snuffed out when Forces was released. It was over. I was done. If Sonic was truly that embarrassed by itself, if they had truly lost touch with what made the series so great, then I wouldn't waste my time any longer. I was so sure that I had to just... Grieve and move on. My beloved childhood game series was dead. Long live the king or whatever. I'd just bitterly read IDW Sonic and think about what could've been. I was lucky to have that comic, at least. Archie had been canceled, too, after all. I was lucky to have my scraps.
Then Sonic Frontiers came out. And it changed everything.
And my god, it was everything. It was everything to me. Flaws be damned, it was everything. To. Me. The spectacle. The serious tone. The vastly improved writing. Kellin Fucking Quinn. It was FUN! It was actually FUN to PLAY. He was back. I was back. Sonic pulled me by my hand out of the ocean of misery I'd fallen into, and he looked me in my eye and he said;
"Hey. You're gonna be alright."
Metaphorically speaking. Sonic The Hedgehog didn't actually literally speak to me -- And sure, okay, maybe it's a little dramatic to describe a game as this great Depression Annihilator but I'm dead serious when I say that, for that time, before I was able to get back on my meds, I was self-medicating with Sonic.
Sonic was all I was thinking about. I reread the Unleashed arc in Archie Sonic, which got me sorta realizing something, and which led to my post where I said something along the lines of "Sonic would hide a zombie bite."
Archie Sonic would, at least. Because he basically did do that in the Unleashed arc of that comic. He let that problem fester until it became an even bigger problem because, ironically, he didn't want to be a problem.
So one thing led to another. I thought more about Sonic becoming a zombie. Bada-bing, bada-boom, Infested was born.
I didn't expect it to get the attention that it did. I felt lucky when the first page I drew Rouge on (Page 6 I think?) blew up. The right people saw it at the right time. I'm extremely grateful for that.
I'm extremely grateful for all of you.
So yeah, one chapter. Woo! Here's to many more.
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shinsocest · 3 days
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No. 003
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♡ AKA: "Fated" ♡
Notes: another from my archive :) I originally wrote for a friend of mine. Also @boosyboo9206 I remembered while drafting that the Kuroo one had a lot of this au's context so we out here rawdogging the fics understanding lmao.
wc: 4.6k
warnings: fem reader, soulmate au, alpha/omega dynamics, shameless use of the Terushima scene, no protection, explicit consent (but for those who don't fully get abo its probably dubcon), Hajime type behavior but very soft imo. Just a very self indulgent alpha Iwaizumi fic.
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Iwaizumi glowers at nothing as the bass thumps around him.
Well, not nothing. If he had to choose, he’s definitely glowering at Shittykawa, even though he can’t find the annoying bastard. Iwaizumi might be at a party but he isn’t really having the greatest time. He’s only there because Oikawa dragged him to scope out their rival frat’s party, the first of the new semester.
He wasn’t in the mood for any of it; Iwaizumi would have preferred to be at home studying and going to sleep early enough for a pre-workout before practice tomorrow. So everything is pissing him off. He can’t find Oikawa, Mattsun and Makki are too busy joyfully causing everyone to stare, the two alphas shamelessly making out on the couch, and this is the third fucking time they’ve played this song in the last half an hour. Who cares if it's popular?
Iwaizumi is stuck prowling the house looking for the brunet alpha so he can drag him out of here by the scruff of the neck. There’s hardly a difference between this party and any of the other’s that they’ve thrown themselves. Being here is fucking pointless.
As he’s rounding the corner, finally escaping the sitting room and its herbal smoke cloud, Iwaizumi gets a whiff of distress scent. As faint as it is, it's enough to make him turn around to search it out. It seems to be coming from a pretty omega, fingers wrapped too firmly around a plastic cup, cornered against the wall by a familiar blonde undercut. Iwaizumi can see the polite annoyance plastered across your face, the firm shake of your head as you deny whatever advances Terushima seems to be making. As assertive as you appear, Iwaizumi can smell your anxiety, the sour ripple of your scent burning faintly in his nose and blocking out something sweeter that lingers beneath it all. The rival fraternity president doesn’t seem to be taking no for an answer.
Iwaizumi growls under his breath. He’s not in the mood for this. Even on a good day he can’t ignore this stereotypical alpha behavior, but today has not been a good day.
There’s no hesitation as he changes direction towards the pair. He can feel the red creep into his vision as Terushima wraps a hand around your wrist, trying to entice you closer to the pounding music where people are dancing, not letting go even when you dig your heels in to remain rooted in place.
He gets close enough for his voice to be heard and throws his scent out. The potent, pissed scent of a territorial alpha. Conversation dies in the throats of everyone nearby as they catch wind of it. Terushima’s shoulders stiffen at the strength of it and he turns, in the same moment as Iwaizumi speaks, gruff and deep,
“Baby, who’s this guy? He bothering you?”
He hopes you get it.
Both of you snap their heads to him, Terushima’s smile dropping immediately while your eyes widen in relief. Iwaizumi relaxes as you take the bait, quickly scooting around Terushima to snake your arm around his. Some people look on curiously, but most skitter off and mind their business.
Good, it’s not a fucking show, Iwaizumi growls internally.
“What took you so long,” you pout at him and Iwaizumi almost grins at how easily you slip into the role—but then he remembers how often this crap must happen for this to be necessary and the upturn of his lip disappears. He levels a heavy stare at the other alpha as he responds.
“The guys held me up, I came as soon as I could.”
“Thought you said you came alone?” Terushima throws out casually.
Your fingers tighten around his forearm, “I didn’t say I wasn’t meeting anyone. You didn’t seem too interested in listening to what I had to say.”
Iwaizumi raises his eyebrows at that, glad you were brave enough to put the other alpha in his place. The pain in Terushima’s uneasy smile as he forces a laugh soothes some of the anger simmering in Iwaizumi’s veins, and his shoulders relax as Terushima makes some half-assed excuse about checking to make sure the kitchen was stocked.
Once the blonde disappears, Iwaizumi turns to you, gently slipping his arm out of yours. He eyes you with concern.
“You okay?” You’re shaking slightly. Eyes wide, slightly wet, and a little unfocused. His concern grows immensely, glancing at your drink. “Did he give you that? Do I need to take you somewhere?”
Those words seem to shake you out of it. “No,” your voice is low, the tremor to it barely audible over the music. “I got this for myself, and I kept it away from him. I’m just—he made me nervous is all. Thank you for stepping in when you did.”
Your trembling hasn’t stopped, even though your voice grows stronger as you speak, that anxious scent of yours spiking through your scent blockers. He can see the little patch now that he is closer, and realizes how scared you must still be if it’s getting through.
“He was being a dick. Anyone would’ve done it,” Iwaizumi mutters, ducking his head as his cheeks warm visibly. The way you eye around the room nervously unconsciously brings more words to his lips. “Were you meeting anyone? I could help you find them.”
Slowly, you shake your head, worrying your lower lip. “My friends cancelled last minute. I wasn’t even planning to come tonight and honestly... I’d rather be home. I just don’t wanna risk running into him again.” You lower your head, looking embarrassed.
Iwaizumi can’t think of a single reason why you should be.
Again, he speaks before he thinks.
“I could walk you home if you want.”
“Really?” Your head pops up, mouth dropping open a little in surprise.
“I mean, I was leaving soon anyway. I didn’t want to come tonight either,” Iwaizumi admits. “I could call you a ride if that’s more comfortable. It’s not like you know—” His mouth snaps shut awkwardly. He hasn’t even introduced himself yet. “—Sorry. I’m Iwaizumi.”
You warm at the abashed expression on the handsome alpha’s face, your heart fluttering slightly.
His heart rate picks up in return as you give him your name.
“I don’t mind if you walk me home,” you say shyly. “It’s not far, if you still want to.”
Iwaizumi pulls out his phone and shoots identical messages to each of his friends explaining where he was going and telling them not to stay out too late. He didn’t want to wake up to them stumbling into their shared house drunk and waking him up.
The walk is short, but not awkward. It’s filled with easy chatter, simple questions and revelations that always seem to come up when you meet someone new. You’re easy to talk to, and Iwaizumi is oddly disappointed when you stop and gesture to the apartment complex next to you.
“This is me.”
Iwaizumi blinks. He… doesn’t want to leave. He can’t explain the feeling, this insistent pull towards you, but it would be incredibly inappropriate for him to ask for more of your time this late. Dipping his head, he murmurs a goodbye and starts to turn, but he feels a small hand gripping the waist of his shirt.
He turns in surprise to see you've frozen. You look more than a little lost, as if you aren't sure what came over you. He waits for you to speak.
“C-can I have your number? It was nice meeting you, and I’d like to see you again, if that’s okay?” By the time the words are done tumbling from your lips, your voice has risen to an uncertain squeak.
A little shocked by the turn of events, but gratified nonetheless, the brunet alpha offers you his number, trying to keep his grip on the goofy, pleased smile that he can feel trying to form on his lips.
“You can call me any time.”
For the first time tonight, his eyes slide down to your outfit, only just beginning to appreciate the way the fabric of your skirt shows off your legs, resting tastefully at mid-thigh. Not a skirt, Iwaizumi realizes, but a cinched dress, hugging each line and curve of your body, modestly covered by a half-jacket. The warm scent of chocolate wafts under his nose and he gets a little lost in studying you, something burning hot within him as he imagines what it would be like to peel the fabric from your body, how warm your skin would be against his own.
Iwaizumi blinks.
It takes a moment to realize how close you’ve gotten. Then Iwaizumi feels the heat radiating off your skin, and his eyes flick to your own, staring at him just as intently. He clears his throat softly and steps back, shoving his hands in his pockets. He mutters a quiet goodnight and starts heading home, and nothing short of stupid alpha pride bursts in his chest when he turns his head to see that your eyes are following him. He hopes you don’t wait too long to call.
The house is quiet when Iwaizumi finally makes it back. There’s already a text on his phone from a new number, and he smiles as he sends a quick message in return. It’s only through the sheer force of will that he manages to fall asleep that night, closing his eyes firmly and ignoring the sudden urge to dig through the cabinets for something sweet.
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Iwaizumi wakes up sweating. At first, he believes that the air conditioning has been turned off, but when he stumbles into the hallway, he finds it running at a cool twenty-three. He’s nearly vibrating in his skin, wondering what woke him. The digital clock on his nightstand reads 3:17. He fell asleep almost four hours ago, so there’s no reason he should be awake. A sweet scent wafts around him, faint but nonetheless catching Iwaizumi’s full attention. He mindlessly prowls towards his hamper and his fingers close around the tank top he discarded tonight. The warm scent of chocolate assaults him and his knees buckle.
A growl tears at his throat.
He’s growled before and often, a bad alpha trait that his parents did their best to train him out of, with general success when you think about who he had to grow up with. Lord knows he’s had every reason to, between Shittykawa and the meme team duo as friends. But this is different. The faint sweet scent brings with it a feeling beyond fathoming, and an itch, a drive that up until now he’s only heard stories about. It’s powerful, a true force of nature, a howling urge inside him to run to the one fate has decided is his. There’s no doubt in his mind who sparked this feeling as he presses the fabric of his discarded shirt to his nose, inhaling deeply. The scent is already fading and that brings a rush of panic to his system. He needs you.
In his haste to locate his phone, Iwaizumi slams his shin against the corner of his dresser, cursing at the immediate pain that blossoms up the limb as he finds your contact and calls. He’d bet his soul that you’re awake, the primitive energy buzzing beneath his skin too transcendent for him to be feeling it alone.
It feels like an eternity as he stands there, breath caught in his throat. You answer on the fourth ring.
“Iwaizumi.”
“Are you okay?” He spares no pretense; from the single word alone, Iwaizumi knows. Your voice is hoarse, and not just because it's the middle of the night. There’s raw need scratching at your throat, a desperation that his body mirrored the moment he heard your voice.
“I… what is this? Please, it’s so hot.”
Iwaizumi is already throwing clothes on, the phone pinned between his chin and shoulder as he shoves his leg through into a pair of sweats. “You know what this is. I’m—” on my way. He freezes for a moment. Do you even want him to come? Soulmate or no, you have no idea who he is. You… might not want him. “—Do you want me there?”
“Iwaizumi…” Your breath is heavy and panting through the receiver, and then there’s a soft gasp, followed by the faintest moan. When he thinks about why you might be making those sounds... Iwaizumi thinks his blood might be on fire.
“Do. You. Want. Me. There?” He can’t help but bite the words out, can’t help but demand an answer. He has to know now before he loses to the animalistic urges inside him. If you tell him no, a small part of him might go deranged, but he’d do whatever it took. Rut or no rut, he’d have Shittykawa strap him to the bed before he did anything against your wishes.
“Please. Please come.” Fuck. The sound of your voice, so small, pleading. Frantic. “Iwaizumi, I need you.”
“Hajime.” Now Iwaizumi’s voice is hoarse. “You can call me Hajime.”
“Alpha—” There’s a broken moan, followed by a frustrated wail.
Iwaizumi inhales sharply. “Did you just—?
“Please hurry. ‘S hot, hurts without you. Feels wrong.”
He’s already out the door. It’s not until the dawn air raises goosebumps across his skin that Iwaizumi realizes he didn’t even grab a shirt.
“Hajime?”
“I’m still here. I won’t hang up. Just… Pretend it’s me, I’m already on my way.”
“Trying, ‘m trying. God it’s not—” Your voice is driving Iwaizumi insane. Labored, pained. He should be there and you shouldn’t sound like this. He should be holding you, inside you, until there’s nothing left to feel but—
Fuck. Fuck.
Iwaizumi inhales slowly, trying to calm his racing thoughts as he reaches the end of the street. “How many fingers?”
“W-what?”
His voice lowers to deep rumble, “How many fingers are fucking your pussy right now, omega?”
Your answering whine tells him that he has your attention now. “Ahn, t-two.”
"Good girl, add another. Reach as deep as you can and don't stop touching your clit. I wouldn’t do that." Iwaizumi's breath is coming heavy as he just about tears across campus, glad it's still early enough that no one is walking the grounds yet to hear him spewing such filth.
"It's—It's not enough—" Your broken mewling is so miserable that it stops him in his tracks, trying to keep his voice steady so he can console you.
"I know, I know baby, I'm so sorry." The pet name slips from his tongue without really thinking, his feet already carrying him forward again. "I'm coming as fast as I can. I'll be there soon, it'll be okay."
"Hur—ahn—H-hurry."
Fucking hell. Iwaizumi feels the threads of guilt that such a pathetic sound sends a blazing heat down his spine, centering on his groin. He can't help it; hiccuping sobs and moans, paired with the mental image of you desperately thrusting your fingers into your cunt, trying to make up for the weight of the knot you can't provide for yourself—Iwaizumi's canines ache. He doesn't hang up the phone, continuing to talk to you over your sounds of distress as he approaches your apartment complex.
Then he’s inside, hesitating in the doorway of the lobby, and you stutter out your apartment number. Third floor. Desperation prickles within him now that he’s so close so Iwaizumi doesn’t wait for the elevator, bounding up the stairwell, two steps at a time.
He can already smell you, your scent is coating almost the whole floor. He reaches for the handle of your door and growls under his breath. The door is locked, barring him from you.
“Baby girl,” Iwaizumi strains, running a hand through his hair in frustration, “You gotta open the door.”
There’s a small thump on the other end of the line and he calls your name again. You’re slurring into the receiver, nearly sobbing, a loud tremor in your weak voice.
“I can’t. My legs are shaking, alpha please—Hajime.”
Damn it. Iwaizumi inhales then puffs out a breath of air, trying to psyche himself up. His mate needs him. “Fuck, okay. Okay. Listen, I will fix and pay for everything, promise.”
“Fix…? Hajime, what are you—”
Iwaizumi feels bad but he hangs up, slinging his phone into his pocket. Taking a deep breath, he pulls one leg back and aims a heavy kick on the door, close to the doorknob. The wood crunches, the latch protesting under the assault, but the door doesn’t open. Praying to the gods that the neighbors are heavy sleepers, Iwaizumi does it again, and again, and again, until the door crashes open, the metal doorknob broken and dangling from the splintered doorway.
Wincing apologetically at the obvious damage, Iwaizumi pushes inside and attempts to close the door, before giving up and dragging the small table in the entry to keep it from swinging open again. Your scent is so much stronger inside, layered upon itself from months of domesticity. The alpha in him purrs when he finds that it's your scent alone in the space. The thick cloud of arousal and distress leads him straight to your bedroom like he’s hooked by an iron tether.
His plan on the way here was to help you, to comfort you and hold you, to give you what pleasure he could without actually fucking you—just to be what you needed until your heat was over. He wanted to keep the alpha in him under lock and key. He knows heats can make omegas forget the real world, how desperate a heat can make them. Even if he’s destined to be your mate, he wanted to be sure you didn’t feel forced, by him or nature. But the sight that awaits him causes his mind to go entirely blank.
“Please, nngh—Alpha, I—I need you. I can’t anymore, hurts so bad please.”
You’d tried to leave the bed when he called to be let in, tumbled to your bedroom floor tangled between blankets and soft-looking sweaters in what looks like an attempt at nesting. There’s a throw blanket curled around your waist, a comforter under your head, but your lower half is in plain view, braced on your knees and bared to him. His imagination on the way over couldn’t compare but you’re just as he imagined you, fingers thrusting frantically in your soaked cunt, whimpering into the blankets around you. As soon as he enters the room, your trembling intensifies as your tear-soaked gaze locks onto his hungry stare. A desperate keen bubbles in your throat as your thighs tense and shake, and in response his low growl rolls like gentle thunder throughout the room as he watches more slick gush down your thighs.
“Little omega,” he rumbles, striding deeper into the room and kneeling beside you. “Did you just cum for your alpha?” There’s no more hesitation. It’s as if the missing piece of his life has clicked into place. His mate is right in front of him, her body calling out to him for the relief and comfort that only he can give. And he is going to give it to you.
You nod up at him, relaxing immediately as his dominating scent covers you more effectively than any blanket. The cinnamon and fire scent breathes strength and reassurance, promising to take care of you. You purr thickly as his hands smooth over your thighs, thumbs pulling your sticky folds apart. His lips are soft as he places a kiss on your hip, his breath hot, the faintest graze of his canines against your skin drawing an almost violent shudder from your body in response. If you were desperate before, you’re not sure there is even a word for what you feel now.
An all-consuming fire blazes beneath your skin that cries for him to be burned away with you. You arch impossibly deeper, instincts demanding you present yourself to him. “All for you, alpha,” you moan. ‘’M all yours, please take me. Can’t wait anymore.”
Your squeal rings in his ears as he scoops you off the floor and bundles you back into the bed, muscles flexing as he settles between your thighs. One hand curls around your neck to pull you closer as he kisses you possessively. It’s all teeth and tongue, fire and passion, spelling out his wavering restraint and burning hunger for you. You can feel his cock against your folds already, his sweats pulled low around his hips in his haste, grinding against you. The heat and impressive weight of it draws a needy whimper from deep in your throat, legs closing tight around his muscular hips to get even closer.
He nips your lower lip sharply, immediately soothing it with his tongue. Iwaizumi is panting as heavily as you, a thin ring of olive green nearly swallowed by black as his eyes gleam down on you.
“Last chance,” he rasps, his fingers fisting the sheets next to your head as your slick heat against his aching length slices at the threads of his sanity. His jaw brushes against your cheek, unconsciously seeking comfort, and then his lips press to your throat just once, the ache in his canines spiking at the proximity to your mating gland. His voice breaks under the intensity of this feeling. “I won’t—be able to stop once I… So tell me now.” Even if he stops now, Iwaizumi knows he’ll never be the same man he was before. His world has narrowed down to this room, to the beautiful omega in his arms. His omega, his mate. He trembles, breathlessly waiting for your answer, your permission.
“Hajime,” you sigh against his lips, soft like a prayer, before tugging his lower lip between your teeth sharply. Iwaizumi groans at the feeling, rutting against you as he takes in the carnal desire and beatific acceptance glowing like embers in your eyes. You don’t speak again but Hajime understands. There aren’t enough words in the world to convey this desire.
His eyes darken and he lets go.
Your back arches wildly, nails tearing sharp lines down his back as he shifts his hips and sheathes himself in your cunt. If they weren’t awake before, your neighbors most surely are now, your pleasured howl echoing in the air of your bedroom as your plush walls part to welcome all of him.
He can’t think, fuck, he can’t think. It has never felt like this. You’re so hot, squeezing him so tightly, and for a barest of moments, despite your mewling, Iwaizumi fears you’re in pain. But then your hands tangle in his hair, dragging his face down to yours. Your omega body was meant for this, meant to take your alpha just as he is meant to please you.
One syllable splits your shared breath, caressing his lips, and he can’t hold on any longer.
“Move,” you beg breathlessly.
Iwaizumi groans and draws his hips back to snap them into you again, surging forward and capturing your lips into a blistering kiss. He swallows your every moan as one calloused hand slides down to grope at the thigh curled around his waist. His balls are heavy, slapping against your ass with every thrust, his pelvic bone grinding against your clit. You’re clenching and fluttering around him, forcing low growls from his chest at the feeling. Your body is begging for him just as loudly as you are.
“Hah, ah, ahn, alpha!” Your head tosses back as one of his thrusts has his cock pressing deep, nearly bottoming out inside you. “So full—Hajime—feels so good.” The last syllable breaks as you keen, lips falling open as your pussy clamps down hard.
“Fuck—” Iwaizumi hisses as he feels his knot beginning to swell, and he can tell you feel it as well, your nails digging into his back again. He barely feels the sting; if anything, it adds to the primal fire burning between you. “You going to cum for me, pretty omega? You want my knot? You want me to fill you up?”
“Yes! Want you, want you! Please!”
Iwaizumi doesn’t miss the way your glazed eyes hold his, how you intentionally bare your throat to him.
You’re asking him to… oh, fuck. He can’t. He can’t. But the thought of claiming you, digging his teeth into your mating gland and finalizing his claim has the animal within him howling to comply with your demand. The coil in his gut winds tight and his hips jerk out of rhythm as his orgasm looms.
Claim.
Iwaizumi whines as his orgasm sears through his body, his knot forcing past your entrance and swelling just a bit more, locking you together. His teeth bury down, and he can feel your walls constrict as he pumps you full of cum, hear you wail as your slick gushes around his length, following into carnal bliss.
He feels as if he’s floating, chest heaving as he blearily comes down from his orgasm. The scent of your distress jolts his senses, and he quickly removes his teeth from your pillow. He’d barely stopped himself.
“Alpha,” you sob, writhing beneath him. “Why?”
“Baby, baby girl,” Iwaizumi hushes softly, wincing as your movements tug down below. His knot hasn’t gone down enough to separate yet. Tears streak your face, and his heart almost snaps at the anguish dulling your eyes. “It’s okay, it’s going to be okay.”
“You don’t want me.”
“Of course I do.” This is what he was afraid would happen when he refused to bite. Heats heavily fuck with hormones, with emotions. Pleasure made you ride high, only to come down feeling crushed and rejected by his refusal. His provisional instincts are lighting up, giving him much needed clarity as you continue to whimper and sniffle below him, no longer meeting his eyes.
“Am I not good enough?”
Damn it.
“Omega.”
You stiffen at the title, a fresh whimper catching in your throat at his sudden commanding aura. His pheromones wash over you, coaxing you to relax. More tears well in your eyes as he cradles your chin, turning your head so you look him in the eye. You try to blink them away.
“You are perfect, and I will never want another the way I want you,” Iwaizumi murmurs, voice still a little ragged. “But I don’t want to start this between us and have it turn out to be something you weren’t ready for. Heats heighten everything, ruts too. We can’t be sure this is what you want. Bite or no bite, I am your mate. I’m not going anywhere, and I won’t leave unless you ask me to. After we get to know each other, and we’re both sober—” This gets a watery giggle from you, and the sound melts Iwaizumi’s heart. He purrs gently, “and you want it, then I will make you mine.”
Your body sags beneath him, relaxing fully under his weight. A low moan spills from your lips, a deep grunt from his own as his knot softens, enough to allow him to pull his still hard cock from your dripping cunt. He grabs your hips and flips onto his back, settling you over him. Iwaizumi winces and hisses softly as the scratches on his back burn a little upon making contact with the sheets, but he ignores it in favor of meeting your eyes steadily. There are very few lucid moments in the middle of a heat, and he wants to enjoy them as much as possible.
“Did you really break down my door?” You ask curiously, tilting your head.
A startled huff of a laugh shakes Iwaizumi’s body, his cheeks burning in shame. “Sorry, heat of the moment. I’ll fix it as soon as I can.”
“It can wait,” you purr, shifting your hips over his erection.
Oh. His eyes darken, cock twitching at your sultry tone. Electricity sparks up his spine as Iwaizumi practically watches the lust drip back into your expression.
"Everything can wait."
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empressdede · 2 days
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Disrespectful .
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Chapter five
Nora and Sienna were both over the attitude that took over the life of London. She was angry at everyone in the world and she had nobody to blame but herself.
They’d already crossed those lines so what was the point of having morals now? It was a question she asked herself everyday. She regrets telling him that they should’ve ended it because she hasn’t had a good day since.
She blames Roman. It was his fault. She was fine until he came and ruined her. He gave her an itch she couldn’t scratch and it was driving her insane. Her sex toys could only do so much. And James…. James couldn’t even scratch the surface of her sexual desires anymore. Before, James was enough; he got the job done.
But after having a taste of what Roman gave her, why would she settle for just getting the job done?
The worst part is, it was her who cut off their secret rendezvous and she didn’t know how to deal with the cards she dealt herself and since she couldn’t get her fix, she released her frustration with almost everyone around her: Nora, Sienna, James and it was even worse for everyone at work since she buried herself at work for a distraction.
At first, Nora thought it that her little sister’s attitude was going to pass after a couple of days but its been going on almost three months now and Nora didn’t know how long she could take it anymore.
London wasn’t the only one who blamed Roman; Nora and Sienna did too. It became very evident to the two of them that whatever those two had going on was taking a toll on London. So both girls were taking matters into their own hands. Nora and Sienna were determined to make them cross each other’s paths once again.
Who was it really hurting that they desired each other sexually? What their partners don’t know won’t kill ‘em right? And after those words left Sienna’s mouth, the girls knew exactly what they had to do.
Which brings them to now: Nora sitting in her car in front of London’s house going over the plan with Sienna over the phone.
“I’m sorry Sienna, I just don’t think three days is enough days. You don’t think you can push it to two weeks?”
Sienna scoffed, “Girl how the fuck do you expect me to distract Tiara for two weeks? The best I could do is a week and even that is pushing it. And plus, you’re worrying about the wrong thing, go try to get her to agree to the trip first and we’ll talk longevity later.” Sienna suggested.
Nora laughed because she already came to her decision for the both of them, “If the best you can do is a week then I’m gonna tell her it’s a week trip because a little weekend trip ain’t gon do shit. So Figure out what to do with Tiara cause I’m ending this angry streak by the end of the this week.”
Sienna agreed and after they hung up, Nora got out of her car to walk to London’s door. She didn’t know what to expect when she got there but when she knocked on the door, she wasn’t really expecting to hear an argument behind the door.
Damn. London was hellbent on letting everyone feel her wrath.
When James opened the door, Nora took pity on the tired look on his face. But she only kind’ve felt bad for James in this situation; there wasn’t really much she could do when it came to those two anyways. She still flashed him a smile when he opened the door wider for her because unbeknownst to him, she was about to fix this problem.
“I’m sorry Nora, Now really isn’t a good time.” James tried but Nora held her hand in the air to silence him, she came here on her own mission and she wasn’t going to let James close the door in her face.
"Nonsense; seems like the perfect time to me. Where’s my sister?" She questioned but London let herself e known by her yelling.
"And just what the fuck am I supposed to do when you leave James? You knew I was going to take my vacation with you and now all of a sudden they need you of all people to go to an open house?"
Nora flashed him another smile before entering into the house to find her sister in the living room. "Well what’s going on in here?" Nora asked, raising an eyebrow at the mess that was in the living room with clothes being thrown all over the place.
"She’s upset because she wants to take a vacation but I can’t. I haven’t sold any property in five months, I don’t want to pass up on the opportunity to bring home some money - I’m sorry."
“It would’ve been different James, if you had no idea of my plans, but you fuckin knew!” London argues, dismissing his attempt to apologize.
“Babe I can’t just drop everything just because you want me to.”
“So you don’t wanna go out with me even though you make your own schedule?”
James let out another sigh and walks away from the living room, this argument was going nowhere and he was tired. London scoffed as she watched James walk away, ignoring her question. She couldn’t believe this was even an argument.
“Talk about a coincidence.” Nora states with a smirk on her face.
The statement caused London to turn around and face her sister, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Girl what the hell are you talking about?”
“Girl, I literally came here to ask if you wanted to take a sisters trip to Houston. Just you and me playing catch up, ya know?” Nora explains and shrugs at her sister. “What better time than now huh?”
“And since when you been thinking of this?” London questions.
“ I seen how stressed out you’ve been lately and I want to help you, I hate seeing you so stressed out. Plus…” she steps closer to her little sister and lowers her voice so she wouldn’t be heard. “I know you don’t really want to spend an entire week with James right now, so let’s just go and enjoy ourselves okay?”
It really didn’t take a lot of convincing on Nora’s end to get London to agree to go out. As horrible as it was to admit, her sister was right… She really didn’t want to go anywhere with James; but he’s been claiming how weird she’s been with him, and she wanted to do to something to make up for her bad mood swings. She couldn’t help it though, she needed an outlet to let out her frustrations.
She’s more than thankful for her sister coming to the rescue. Hopefully this trip could get her mind off you know who.
Unbeknownst to London, Nora was quick to send out a text to Sienna to let her know that the plan was going as planned so far.
we’re good on our end, Get started on your end.
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Roman was confused when he got a random call from Khalid asking him to get away for a while. It wasn’t like him to isolate himself, but he can only guess him and Sienna were into it because Tiara had told him that Sienna had invited her out to New York for some kind of fashion week.
He originally decline, but Tiara convince him to go; stating that Khalid just needed a friend, the same way Sienna needed a friend. So here he was, in Houston, Texas, at a Ritz hotel, wondering what in the world could Sienna have done to make Khalid supposedly so angry.
“So what made you run away?” Roman asked during their game of call of duty.
Khalid raised an eyebrow at the random question. “Huh?”
“How come you’re in Texas and Sienna’s in New York? What made y’all run 1500 miles away from each other?” Roman asked again.
Oh. Right. Khalid almost forgot his wife sent him here on a mission.
“How do you know she’s in New York? I thought she was back home.” Khalid questioned, tilting his head to the side in confusion.
“Tiara caught a flight to New York a couple hours before I flew out myself, She’s the one who told me they were going to New York. Anyways, you didn’t answer my question; what made you run away? Why are we in Texas instead of Florida?.” Roman questioned him again for the third time.
Khalid wondered if he presented Roman’s own problems, if he would catch on. “I’m in Texas because I need space to think about our relationship. I don’t wanna hear any speeches or anything but… I cheated on Sienna and I think she knows.”
Khalid paused the game and turn to face Roman to continue spewing out bullshit. “I don’t know what to do now.”
Roman nodded his head because he understood - sometimes life doesn’t happen the way you expect it to. “Unfortunately, I know how you feel.” Roman reveals and Khalid raises his eyebrow in faux shock.
“You cheated on Tiara?”
“Something like that. I’ll take my faults, it’s wrong because I’m married but there’s nothing wrong with exploring for a bit; as long as you find your way back home. At least that’s what I did.” Roman confessed.
“If you could go back in time and take it back, would you?” Khalid questioned and the heavy silence that took over the room really answered his question but Khalid wanted Roman to really get it off his chest. “It’s just between you and me bro… do you regret it?”
“No.” Roman finally answers, but the look in his eyes is very distant, almost as if he was lost in thought. “I know I don’t sound like a committed husband but if I had the chance to do it again with the person who I did it with; I would.”
Khalid let out a hum and nodded his head to let Roman know he was listening. And he was, that confession was all he needed to move forward with his wife’s plans.
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London, let herself relax in the hotel bed, a soft sigh escaping her lips as the silence of the room helped her feel so relax. If only her mind was as quiet as the room; her mind going to the one man who couldn’t escape her thoughts matter how hard she tried.
She hasn’t seen him since that last dinner because she knew she wasn’t going to be able to stand on business. London was a prideful woman, she was never going to admit how much she regret her decision on cutting him off.
Why the fuck do you keep thinking about him anyway? This has to stop. It’s what she’s been telling herself for these past couple of months and she still couldn’t do it.
She finds herself missing him in the weirdest times. If she’s in a boring meeting, she’ll reminisce on the time where he text her to keep her entertained. If she went out to to eat, she missed his endless compliments or even the risky freaky shit he would pull with her, like fingering her under the table when the waitress came back to ask if everything was okay. She especially missed the sex… damn did she miss the sex.
Roman took his time to learn her body, he found out what she liked and he even introduced her to new things that she found herself loving. Sex with Roman was always exciting; especially when he would fuck her in places where she usually wouldn’t let herself do those kinds of activities: in her office, backseat of his car with or without his chauffeur… almost one time in the locker room - Roman never cared. If he desired her, he was going to to have her and she missed the feeling.
Missed feeling desirable, missed the funny moments between the two of them… she missed her friendship with Roman. He was her friend first and she missed her friend.
“Okay girl; I’m over this little rut that you’ve been having. It’s time for us to go out and shake some ass, Let’s go!” Nora exclaimed when she busted into London’s room.
“What the fuck do I look like going to the club to shake some ass as a married woman?” London questioned with a confused look on her face.
Nora scoffed and rolled her eyes, “When did being married mean you can’t be outside and shake some ass?”
London let out a tire sigh, “I just wanna relax. Maybe call a masseuse to give us a massage. I’m away from home and I’d really like to enjoy it.”
“You’d really enjoy it if you stop fighting me and go out with me.” Nora retorted and London sat up and squinted her eyes in suspicion at her older sister.
“What you got up yo sleeve Nora?” She questioned, getting straight to the point.
Nora exhaled and walked towards her sister to take a seat on the bed. “London, I know you won’t talk about what’s bothering you and I respect that; can you just respect that it hurts me to see you like that? I’ve been taking care of you for the longest, I always know when you need a break, why don’t you just let me help you?”
Albeit everything she was saying was true, Nora knew she had to lay it on thick for London to agree to go out with her. London’s eyes scan Nora’s face and took in her expression, the sadden look in her sister’s eyes is what made her drop her shoulders in defeat.
“Fine. But if I’m not enjoying myself after an hour; I’m leaving.”
Nora flashed her blinding smile, nodding her head to agree with her conditions “Great! I’ll go get ready and you can meet me downstairs okay?” She didn’t even let London respond as she rushed out of the room in excitement. London, huffed as she let herself flop backwards onto the bed, she just hope she doesn’t regret this.
______________________________________
After London finished getting dressed for her night out with her sister; she stood in front of the mirror touching up on her make up as she thought about ways she could convince her sister to let her come home early.
Her phone going off, snapped her out of her thoughts and she turned to see who was calling: Nora. “Hello?”
“Hey, did you leave your room yet?”
“No, I’m about to leave though; I’m coming downstairs right now.” London explained.
“Before you come downstairs, can you go to my room and grab me a pair of sandals? I forgot to grab it.”
“Why can’t you just go and grab it?” London asked in annoyance.
“London, you’re already upstairs; can you just please?” Nora begged and London let’s out a groan before agreeing.
“Great, my room is on the fifth floor, room 26. I think housekeeping is still cleaning the mess I made so just knock okay?” And without any other explanation Nora hung up the phone.
She’s been so demanding since we got here, I thought she wanted me to have a good time? London thought to herself. The entire elevator ride to the floor above hers she thought about what the fuck was going on with Nora in the first place.
The last time Nora took London on a sister trip, it was to break the news that she was getting a divorce. What type of bad news did she have to break to me now? She wondered. Her mind was running through all the possibilities of what could have her sister acting so weird while she off the elevator to look for room 26.
She let out a small huff because she was drawing a blank, she’ll just have to ask her sister why the fuck she was acting to weird when she got downstairs. She knocked on the door and waited for housekeeping to open the door.
Didn’t she give me her keycard? London asked herself, she remembers them giving each other keycard when they got here. Before London could give look in her clutch to search for the hotel keycard, the door finally opened and when she looked up she felt all the breath in her lungs leave her body.
“Roman?” She breathed out in disbelief. Her mind had to be playing tricks on her.
Roman himself froze as he stared at the woman in front of him. There’s no way she was standing in front of him right now. “London… what-“ he trailed off because he really didn’t know what to say.
It’s been almost three months since they last seen each other, the feeling of shock is what keeping them frozen in their spot.
“What are you doing here?” London finally asks, her mind racing because seeing him did nothing but resurface those feelings she was reminiscing about earlier. Did he have a show here? She questioned. That could be the only reason he’s here right?
“Khalid brought me here. Him and Sienna are going through it.” He answered.
Nora set me up, she brought me out here and set this whole thing up.
Everything was making sense, because even if Khalid and Sienna were going through it, Khalid wouldn’t have left Florida. They set her up, and her body was yearning to just touch him.
“You know they set us up right?” He states, and yeah. If she was going to be pushed in this direction anyways, she didn’t give a damn about the consequences anymore.
“Are we going to take advantage of the opportunity?” London asked softly and it wasn’t something the two had to really think about. They’ve denied themselves what they really wanted for long enough, and if their friends were going to push them into each other’s arms, who were they to fight what everyone else thought they needed too.
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Roman and London lost themselves in each other like they usually did, but the feeling wasn’t the same as it was before.
What was so different about tonight?
There was something more profound than lust and sexual tension lingering in the air between them. When Roman pulled her into the room, their lips immediately push against the other and instead of the fast kissing they were used to, it was slow…sensual.
When they broke apart they stared into each other’s eyes. The lines of their friendship was blurred with the unexplainable feeling they were feeling for each other in the moment, they couldn’t pinpoint what that feeling was exactly.
But it’s what made London grab his neck and pull him back down to her. Their lips brushed against one another’s and the hesitation made London pull away but Roman made the choice to close the gap between them. London’s helpless moan slipped from her lips and she melted into the embrace, pushing her body against him as if to make them one.
The taste of him was intoxicating, it was one of the things she missed about him.
Roman led the two to his bed, and London made herself comfortable in his lap. Her hands caressing his shoulders and eventually moved her hands over his strong arms as their lips smothered each others again.
Chills ran through her body when he trailed his hands up her thigh to grip onto her ass, that’s when she knew this was real. She’d fall victim to daydreaming - especially when her and James were trying to get into it but she’d always come back to reality. But this… this was reality. James never touched her like that.
His hands were roaming her body as if taking in this moment would be her last. Her body was vulnerable to his touch, and she could hear her heart beat drum in her ears.
The sweet feeling of his warm body mixed with the throbbing between her legs radiated more than a positive feeling of intense pleasure of her brain. She didn’t know if it was possible to feel the way she felt at the moment: fuzzy at the brain, and warm at the heart.
They didn’t want to rush the moment, especially since it was something her sister wanted to bless them with. Upon seeing her outfit, he fell into their old routine.
“You look like an Angel.” He softly murmured in her ear before he started undressing her. “Most beautiful thing on Earth and It’s all for me isn’t it?”
And there it was, that feeling she was missing rushing back into her lungs almost as she deeply inhaled his words, that feeling of wanting to feel desirable. That feeling from earlier returned but it wasn’t a feeling she could identify at the moment so she focused on the feelings she could.
At the impulse decision of the moment, their bare bodies touched each other’s. As soon as Roman was submerged within her, she swallowed up some of his thick inches with pride and contentment. Undoubtably, her eyes flickered to the back of her head, her lips separated, and her back arched off the bed and pressed to his chest. Being so close to him, was enough to send her body into a frenzy of different emotions. Not only because it felt so good, but because it was him. Because it was Roman.
There’s synchronized movements were coupled. London’s fingernails, digging into his back and the sound of her soft moans only seasoned the moment for the both of them. She pulled his head between the crook of her neck and let her heavy pants fill his ear.
At her own allowance, she caught a sweaty grip onto his arms and extended her legs wider to pull him in deeper than before. She wanted all of it, all of him. She wasn’t holding back on taking anything he was willing to give her; she’s gone long enough without it.
Their lips met again, and while he sucked on her tongue, she let out whimpers of pleasure into the air. Roman had to give himself a silent, prep talk to encourage himself not to cum too fast, it’s been a while since he’s been in her and her wetness was driving him crazy.
He knew what she wanted without her, having to ask for it. The passionate quickening of his strokes, promoted her to tango, her legs around his torso. Her arms in case themselves around his neck; she held onto him for dear life. Her cries of pure delight escalated be on guidance. He fucked her soul into oblivion like he’s done before. She would have never imagined herself calling out God’s name, but she did just that, screeching to the heavens, while she let that dick dominate her cloudy mind and rock her entire existence into a temporary state of belief.
Without any separation between them, they painted all of their essence all over the bed. Roman could feel her in every pulsing vein in his body until he’d consumed all that was left of her.
They were both so lost in the moment that it didn’t register to either of them that a condom was initiated and neither of them seemed to care when Roman groaned into her ear and emptied himself in her. It only made London tighten her legs around his body and keep him trapped in between her legs and she welcomed the feeling of his fluids filling her up.
Never again. She wasn’t letting Roman leave her ever again. If this was wrong, she never wanted to be right. Ever.
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Whew😩 this chapter went exactly how I wanted it to. I’m sorry it’s such a long read😩 I just couldn’t break it up. You guys won’t wait that long for the next chapter 😭 I promise.
As per usual please comment and gimme some love 🥹💙
Tagging the lovelies: @whatdoeseverybodywant @theninthwonder @christinabae @2-muchsauce @alichesmi @pitlissa22 @sassginawanmills @harmshake @po3ticb3auty @unfriendly--blvck--hottie @dershalover89 @serena004 @reci1996 @scarlettnoir01 @kill-the-artiste @southerngirl41 @badbitchcentralinc @reignsboy19 @mzv11 @cyberdejos2 @msbigredmachine @msniaimani @skyesthebomb @wanderingreigns @katymae12344 @bebesobrielo @alyyaanna @raya-hunter01
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The Heart is an Ocean (Dark!Aemond x reader/oc (titanic au!) PART 2
Darkish aemond x reader/oc (?) (TITANIC THEMED!)
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Cool devider credits: its uhm me.
Tags: Au Aemond, criminal Aemond, angst and hurt titanic au aemond x oc aemond x you aemond x
🔷Summary: You attend the ship of dreams, the Balerion in hope of finding your match to enrichen your family. But fate is cruel for those who dream. And the Balerion might not even reach the harbor of Valyria.
🔷Author's note: ''WILL THIS BE THE MOVIE REWRITTEN'' ASHSHSHDH I WISH! NO, its so not the movie. I was planning on naming the ship ''Titanic'' but I could not do that, it felt so icky. Big fan of the movie, big fan of books, the boat in general, and big nerd of it all. I went with a copy of the boat, and named it the Balerion. The route was original from Belfast to America i think but it will be from Crownlands to Valyria.
🔷Wordcount:5000
Warnings can be found under here
🔷Warnings: blood, arranged marriages, smoking, cocaine, illegal drugsdealing, eventually...you know, and murder. (the you know refers to the well-known fate of the boat) Classism, violence (not aimed at OC) and darkish criminal ruthless aemond.
TAGLIST: @namelesslosers
The morning after the ship had set sail, you finally awoke after a terrible night of sleep. The bed had been new, unused before and comfortable but it did not meet your standards, you told yourself so at least. Anything to avoid the truth: You had nightmares that kept you awake. Worries and concerns.
Your father had died this year, and now you had to find a new husband to ensure your family’s fortune. Your mother had no regard or respect for age. It wouldn’t have married if she could marry you to a rich walking skeleton, she would have done it. 
Your maid, Esera arrived earlier that day, her face distraught as she greeted you with a curtsy. You smiled. Yes, the two of you were friends. But it was nice that someone, anyone, at least pretended you still mattered. That you still had some renown and worth. That you weren’t destined to fail, doomed to sink.
You allowed yourself to be bathed, dressed in a fine new silk gown and let her brush your hair. All while she kept looking as if someone had just stepped on her toes. ‘’You look more miserable than I feel,’’ You commented, sharp as a knife with a catish sly grin on your face. ‘’If it’s juicy gossip, you must share it with me.’’ 
Esera finally put down the brush after combing the same locks for ten long wasteful minutes. She nodded. You were never good at remembering and reading faces, but her spoke to you as a book. Whatever had happened, it was serious. You quickly gestured to the side of your bed, that she had made just earlier for you. You did not want her to faint. Thankful, she sat down.
‘’M’lady, it is such awful news.’’ She said, You nodded, already impatient to hear the truth and whatever scandal had unfolded among the passengers. She took a deep breath and when you read her eyes, even you, someone who has such difficulty reading people, could tell she was terrified. ‘’There is someone missing. A servant.’’ She announced. 
You heard the words back in your head. Missing? How could anyone go missing? Well, it was a large boat but still. ‘’I am not sure what you mean.’’ You said, convinced that it was just a lazy servant taking a nap somewhere he was not allowed to be to begin with.
She rattled on. ‘’A steward. They said his name was Erryk. Apparently, he never showed up for the morning shifts. His brother is inconsolable. He has a job below deck, he does something with the coal.’’ He likely made sure that the Balerion kept going steadily, picking up its ridiculous speed as the ship sailed around the seas.
You watched as Esera started pulling her nails, the color drained from her face. ‘’I am just so horrified, m’lady. And I already fear boats.’’ She sniffed. You couldn’t help but look around, unknown of what to do as your servant wept.  You patted her back once, twice, and after that, you gave up. 
Boats didn’t scare you. But the Balerion did. It was so massive, so huge, so endless without end or beginning that your brain didn’t know how to wrap itself around it. The idea that you were one step away from becoming a shark meal didn’t help either.
You removed some tears from your dress with a napkin, and sat back down in front of the vanity. You opened the drawer and fished out your favorite perfume. You applied a heavy amount of it, hoping to haunt whoever would come close to you for the rest of this day. ‘’Well, what can we do about it? The Balerion is a massive boat.’’ You weren’t going to make this a you-problem. You had enough you-problems.
Esera nodded. You had just put your perfume down, as the door of your cabin slammed open and your mother threw herself into the entrance, running at you with an impressive speed that both surprised you and terrified you.  ‘’My dear darling!’’ She giggled with delight. Until she saw your servant, sitting on your bed linen. She only had to click her fingers, and Esera left your room, looking possibly even worse than before. 
You raised a brow at your mother. ‘’Do what do I owe the pleasure?’’ Truth was, she was your mother and Lady Waters still. She paid for your cabin. But you don’t appreciate people entering without knocking. It is what separates the men from the animals, in your honest opinion.
She waved a paper in your face. Quite rude. You snatched it out of her hands, reading the paper with disinterest. It had the colors of the Velyaron line, likely an event organized by the ship itself. It was about a social gathering, a ball, happening a few days later. Your mother was like a pitbull. If she smelled an opportunity for you to get a husband, she bit and wouldn’t let go. ‘’I snatched this from the announcement board. There will be a grant ball. All noble ladies are invited, as are the gentlemen. It is the perfect opportunity for you to find a nice, rich husband.’’ She said, cupping your chin into her hands and looking at you as if you were going to solve all her problems. 
You tilted your head, already dreading this ball. ‘’Momma, I am not sure anyone on this ship is even interested in a marriage. I tried yesterday in the café and-’’ You were hushed as your mother sniffled your neck, oblivious to what you told her. Ignoring the truth, as always.
She looked disgusted, wiping away some perfume you had just applied. ‘’Why do you always apply so much perfume? You are a lady, not a whore. Begone with you. I must try to find a way to get you a gown for the ball.’’ She told you, ushering you out of your own rooms. 
‘’The red one?’’ It was your favorite one with red shiny stones. You looked amazing in it, and it was the gown you last wore when your father was still alive. A true precious gown, as silly as it may be.
Your mother shook her head. ‘’We sold the red one, dear.’’
You turned your head so fast, you were afraid that it would snap and roll off from your neck, to glare at her. You didn’t know that. She likely did it when you were packing for this horrendous journey on the seven hellish seas. ‘’It had to be done, Cristella! You aren’t married yet, which means more and more of our precious heirlooms will end up by some dirty peasant.’’ The local pawn shops, she meant. The idea that some peasant was now walking around in your gorgeous Visenya Dalararis gown, it hurted you. Deeply. 
You huffed, slamming the door behind you as you left your cabin. You could not give a rat’s ass about being a proper lady. At that moment, you didn’t want to care. But you still did. You cared. And you cared too much about that. Finding a husband was not an easy task. Tales of your fall to ruin had spread far and wide and the only men that would be interested in you, were likely living under a rock, or that old that their memory was failing them.
You had not your own life to think about. You had two sisters, and a mother, all depending on you to find a rich husband. You never thought you would be responsible for so many people, and you never knew how crushing the weight of being the carebringe was. It was enough to make you feel like you were sinking, alone at sea in the dark.
Your breath caught in your lungs, as you tried to make sense of a terrible situation. Either you would marry some fossil that was old enough to witness the first men come to Westeros, or you will fail and condemn your family to a life on the streets. You know your family. You would not make for good beggars. You would all starve, freeze, die. 
You would like to cry. You did force yourself, to let the tears come out. But stopped as you realized, no one cared about your tears anymore. Any gentleman knew of the bankruptcy. The only thing you had then, was your beauty. Your grace. And your pride. A single tear rolled down your left cheek, drawing the pattern of a splatter paint drop. They could take your money. And your dresses. But they could never take away your pride.
You gathered the courage, wiped at your cheek the tear with your gloves, and left your cabin to enter the one belonging to your sisters. As usual, Maelys was still in bed at this hour, glaring at you as she was reading a book. ‘’Good morning, sister.’’ She said, and you could hear she was not that pleased to see you. You greeted her with an uninterested wave.
Your other sister, Dysera was already up and dressed, smiling patiently at you, her gloved hands folded neatly in her lap. You weren’t good at reading people, but you knew Dy as your own pocket. Maybe because you two were much alike. And you knew at that moment, she was looking for trouble. Dismissive, you went to grab your coin purse. ‘’Where are you going?’’ She asked, her voice surprisingly light and eager.
You didn’t know where you were going, both in life and on the ship. Her question made you realize that and made you lash out. ‘’to have breakfast.’’ You told her and it was the truth. You were planning on getting a nice warm toasted loaf of bread and a baked egg for you, and you alone. Just eating in silence as the toast melted on your tongue, oh, the delight. No sisters were part of this fantasy and you intended to keep it that way. 
But your sister jumped at the idea of leaving the hellish cabin and you could not blame her for it. Well, maybe a little. ‘’I am coming with you!’ She said, delighted. You frowned. That was not the plan. ‘’Maybe I’ll find a husband there, before you do.’’ She started and laughed, but it hurt you that she dared to even say that. 
‘’Maybe you won’t,’’ you stepped closer and smiled, hiding your anger behind your catty smile and your beautiful eyelids. ‘’I heard men like women who can offer something. If they simply wanted comfort, they’d take a whore or a pet. Now, scurry off.’’ And that hurted her. She would never inherit anything. You would. You watched as her eyes filled with tears. 
You sighed as you walked away, leaving the cabin. You passed the sign. 192B. A insult. The B deck was all they could afford. A shame, truly. in more ways than one. You had enough of the day and it had just started. You needed a smoke, a drink, perhaps both at the same time. You laughed quietly in yourself as you left the deck, entering the main deck, where gentlemen and ladies alike were conversing, strolling and just enjoying the calm weather.
You decided to go to another café than the one your mother had rented for your speeddates. This one was called the Octopus and had a ugly sign outside of it, but you were hungry and too lazy to go look anywhere else. You sat down at a table and ordered your meal, waiting impatiently as the servants rushed around you, serving meals and taking orders from other customers.
You were tested. Some of these ‘’customers’’  didn’t even seem…Well, they sure smelled like they should be eating two decks below. Or not aboard a boat at all, truly. But in the docks. In a dark alley. They didn’t wear fancy gowns, suits with hats befitting the latest fashion, they smelled as if they hadn’t washed in centuries and had the manners of a barn animal. In truth it was all terribly unsetting and upsetting.
The staff did give you a glass of champagne prior, thank the seven gods. You had not much happening as a girl in a dark red coloured dress approached with lace covering her shoulders. Eyes turned as she entered, and you had to admit, that included yourself. She had white, gorgeous classic Valyrian hair, styled in a beautiful knot that clearly was defying gravity on its own. You were impressed.
Until you saw the hatred in her eyes when she finally found you sitting at the table. You ignored her at first, as any sane woman would. Whatever she had going on, it was not going to become your problem.
You waited for your pancakes, becoming more impatient and hungry as every moment passed. ‘’I was hoping I’d see you today.’’ You looked around, to see who had the audacity to attempt to make conversation while you were starving, angry, tired and seasick.
The girl stood in front of you, arms crossed like she had accomplished something. She had in fact, not accomplished anything. You were not impressed. You actually felt sorry for her. Whoever her parents were, they raised a true brat. ‘’And you are?’’ You asked, hiding a laugh.
She laughed as well but hers was fake and insincere.‘’Perhaps you know my sister. Beautiful, gorgeous, rich.’’ It all came back to you. That Baela girl that stole your man and insulted you. Yet you pretended you didn't know, just to get her angry. You pretend to think, sipping your champagne glass.
While you were sipping champagne, you faked a gasp, quickly putting your glass down and looked at the girl. ‘’Does she have an ego the size of Westeros and Essos combined and does she smell of desperation?” You sat down, your face calm and a cold mask as you grinned at the girl’s furious face. ‘’How lovely that your sister felt so scared that she sent you to find me.’’
The girl scoffed, laughing to avoid the fact that you did hurt her feelings. You saw through her as if she was made of glass, however. ‘’I assume you know who I am?’’ That was a bold statement. It took you five years to learn the name of your own handmaid. How in the seven hells were you supposed to know the name of any random passenger on this boat?
And aside that, you also…Well, you didn’t care. ‘’I am sorry, if I knew the name of every second class passenger, my head would explode.’’ You commented, sipping from your champagne when watching her become more and more furious. 
The woman gathered her courage, and her strength. ‘’I am Lady Rhaena Targaryen.’’ Ah. Your thoughts were whisked away to a wicked smile on pink soft lips, lips belonging to a certain smoking gentleman. His smile captivated you as you noticed your lips breaking into a smirk. Mr Targaryen did not seem to even be remotely like her. 
‘’And now the part where I am supposed to care who you are?’’ You rang out, dryly as you downed your entire glass in frustration. A targaryen girl, so stunning, so fierce, that was going to be a problem. She would steal all eligible bachelors from you, bleed them dry and have them ruined. You could not afford that. 
The girl leaned in and when she attempted to whisper something of a threat in your ear. ‘’You think you have won this, little Bastard. But you are not even close to tasting victory. Men want class, riches and fame. Your dowry is good enough to maybe buy cup of coffee.’’ She finished brutally. It got under your skin. It did. Because you knew, she was right. You waited for the waiter to bring you and Rhaena two fresh glasses of champagne, and accidentally emptied yours over her head. Furious and fuming, you left the cafe.
You had to get out of there. Fresh tears threatened to fall. To ruin everything you worked so hard for.
A voice called out to you, surprising you. ‘’Miss Waters!’’
Aemond Targaryen had followed you. He looked as handsome as ever, wearing a a suit unlike most of the gentlemen. He also had a plate of pancakes in his hands, offering it to you with an apologetic gentle smile. ‘’Pardon me, but you had forgotten your order.’’ You were amused, raising your brows at him.
‘’Is this how you hope to earn your money to provide for a wife, Mr Targaryen? 'By playing waiter?’’ It was a coy tease as brief as a wink. He took it well, smiling despite your insult.
‘’Why, I never would. Rest assured, my future wife can buy all the Seven Kingdoms and I still would be rich.’’ He was bragging, trying to impress you. You faked a subtle smile, keeping your eyes on him at all cost as you took a small elegant bite of the pancake he had brought you.
You brought your fingers to your chin, cleaning the corners of your mouth as Aemond watched, breathless. ‘’I believe we discussed what I thought of Cocky men.’’ You reminded him of that for your own sake.
Aemond gestured to the brim of the ship, inviting you over to watch the waves. You followed, but kept appropriate distance. ‘’This boat is ridiculous. Do the Velyarons need to compensate for something?’’ You remarked.
To your surprise, he laughed, briefly smirking too. ‘’I assure you, they do. I heard Lord Daemon and Lady Laena no longer share a room.’’ You loved scandalous gossip. And you loved that this was about the Mother of lady Baela. Seems that her parents aren’t as perfect as she pretends to be either.
You know Daemon is a known rag, often preferring to lay with younger ladies and that his bed has seen more women on it than a whorehouse. ‘’Why, whatever could be the reason?’’ You asked, your voice soft and innocent. Aemond tilted his head, his tongue briefly licking his lips clearly somewhere else.
He shook his head, his silver hair danced. ‘’But it is not appropriate for me, to discuss such vile rumors with a proper lady.’’ He said, reminding himself of his duties. He even stepped back to create more distance. And you found yourself stepping closer to him, almost dreading to be separated, drawn to him by a force beyond your understanding.
You sweetly lowered your eyes, your lips pouting. ‘’You are such a tease, Mr Targaryen.’’ But two could play that game. You would show him. ‘’May I ask you to accompany me to the better decks? I seem to have forgotten where my room is.’’ You replied, hooking your arms into his own. He seemed to smirk as you two strolled over the deck, and Aemond received a lot of angry, jealous glares. 
‘’So, tell me more about the drama.’’ You whispered in his ear as the two of you finally had found some shade under a big parasol. Aemond laughed and it sounded forced for a brief moment. 
You needed the information to make the campaign for Baela, Rhaena and possibly Laena impossible. They could not find a husband. Well, at least, not before you. ��’Laena kicked Daemon out of their cabin. He was found in bed with another married woman, who was recently widowed.’’ Aemond tells you, his voice a seductive hushed whisper.
You covered your mouth with your free hand, faking disgust as you were possibly overjoyed. ‘’My!” You gasped, but you were delighted. ‘’Such vile things indeed.’’ He nodded.
Aemond nodded, agreeing with you, his disgust clearly readable from his face. He did not like Daemon. You could tell. ‘’I should not have told you. Now I have soiled your ears, dirtied your mind.’’ He was scolding himself.
You huffed, insulted at this. You were not a child. ‘’I assure you, I am quite capable of vile things myself.’’ You said, as you two made your way to the deck. You walked past the cafe, and multiple people including Rhaena took notice of you on the arm of Aemond Targaryen. You waved, smiling sweetly through the window as Rhaena almost choked on her drink, her sister Baela looked just as miserable.
To that, Aemond let out a delighted sigh. ‘’I shall spare no details. Daemon was found with not one, not two, but three whores in his bed.’’ That confused you. One whore had to be enough, surely.
You looked puzzled and Aemond knew, which is why he grinned, smirking brightly. ‘’Why does a man need three whores?’’ You asked, voicing your confusion. That sounded expensive too.
Aemond leaned in a little closer, his breath hot in your neck as he whispered. ‘’Maybe to watch them play with one another?’’ He suggested, and you wondered quietly, briefly, for a mere moment, if Aemond would like the same. If he too, had vile thoughts. You quickly shook off those thoughts, scolding yourself for even having them.
You know Aemond meant the act. Yet you want to tease and know more. ‘’Play, what? Cards?’’ You asked, with an innocent smirk. Aemond opened and closed his mouth, reading you very well.
He grinned. ‘’Who is a tease again? You know much more than you pretend to know, Miss Waters.’’
You shrugged, and when you both were alone in a hallway on the deck, you briefly smiled at him, surprising him. ‘’I never said I didn’t, Mr Targaryen.’’ You waited for Aemond to walk around the corner, before you trapped him against the walls of the ship.
Aemond let out a surprised shriek, eying you with much desire and want as you held him into place. You were relieved there were no witnesses. You caressed his chest, searching for his cigarettes already. He acted fast, grabbing your hand and pinning you against the walls instead, smirking as he leaned in closer.
He cupped your chin with his fingers, grinning as you went speechless. ‘’You still owe me for the first one you stole.’’ He said, a smirk dancing on his lips. This man.
You ignored the butterflies in your stomach, as well as your own arousal. ‘’What will you do about that?’’ You asked, trying to sound careless and fearless.
But he could read you all too well, and smirked, bringing his lips closer to your own. ‘’I don’t know. You must be held accountable.’’ He said, as if he was thinking deeply. ‘’Yes, a nice punishment will do.’’ Punishment? You scoffed.
‘’Will you put me on your knee and spank me?’’ You asked, in anger. 
His answer surprised and shocked you. He simply leaned in closer, brushing with his nose against your own and touched your lips with his fingers. ‘’Maybe one day.’’ He whispered and you felt as if he made you and himself a promise.
You were speechless. ‘’For now, a nice evening out will do. I shall pay for dinner and we can talk about our mutual hate for the Velyaron family. How does that sound?’’ You could not be seen with another man. Not going out with him, at least.
‘’Mr Targaryen-’’ You started but Aemond silenced you by firmly putting you back against the wall, smirking as you briefly whimpered softly.
He whispered softly. ‘’Men want what other men have. Seeing you on my arm, it makes them wild. Just say yes, Love. What else do you have to do anyway?’’ He asked. 
‘’I,’’ You stuttered, shocked at the audacity and the brutality. How dare he? And yet, you liked it.
‘’Excellent.’’ Was all Aemond said, taking distance and folding his hands on his back. He gave a respectful bow but his smirk did not match that all. ‘’I shall pick you up, 8 o’clock sharp. And I will have something sent over to your cabin, you may wear it, if you like it.’’ He smirked, leaving you alone with your thoughts and your heart racing.
Aemond sat that afternoon, in his own cabin. He had placed his leather boots on the salontable, smoking a cigarette after escorting the Waters girl home. He pictured her shocked and flustered face when he offered to take her out again. Nothing came close to seeing that uncertainty. The same uncertainty he faced for years. It was justice. She starved him. He would only take revenge. It was fair. Needed, in a way.
Cregan finally entered the cabin, bringing a neat suit for Aemond. Aemond sized it up, inspecting it for any wrongs. ‘’You did well, picking this one. Miss Waters is a very picky bee.’’ He confided in his best friend. ‘’If as much as a single stitch is out of order, I may never hold her hand again.’’ He made his voice a soft dramatic whimper. Cregan laughed, and soon, Aemond joined.
‘’As if she even has a choice, soon.’’ Aemond commented. ‘’Once the Captain’s Ball takes place, I put her in a scandal, and she’ll have no choice but to consent to marry  me.’’ It was the perfect plan. He just had to act kind until the scandal. He wasn’t sure what scandal he would pull just yet. He would not force himself upon her. No, never. So, that meant, another, but maybe just as brutal and heartbreaking way to end her social society status. To take home the Queen and clear out the board, once and for all.
A rough, but eager voice ran out as Criston ran into the cabin, surprising Aemond. ‘’We might have a problem.’’ Criston said, and to Aemond’s displeasure, the man was covered in blood. Aemond raised a brow, removing both his boots from the table and jumped to his feet. What could have happened?
Cole smirked. ‘’You need to tie down that brat of yours soon. A man was dancing with her, moments after you had brought her to the cabin.’’ Aemond’s blood boiled. So, she was very well capable of making her way to the cabin alone. She played him. Again.
‘’What man?’’ Aemond responded, sweetly. ‘’And I assume there’s a marvelous reason why you are covered in blood?’’
—-
Aemond had never enjoyed being a killer. He was good at it, yes. But he never took pride or happiness from kills. Unless they were his enemies. Cole had shown Aemond a spare storage room, where the gentleman that had dared to dance with his Queen, was present. Tied up and gagged. The man in question was old, boring and would never statisfy the Waters girl. He knew it.
Aemond lowered his favorite knife against the throat of the man, forcing the man to gulp as he started to draw a thin line, causing blood to jump out of the wound. ‘’Why did you dance with Miss Waters?’’ He asked, his voice a low growl.
‘’She’s a lovely lass.’’ The man responded, as Cole had removed his gag. Aemond shared a brief glance with Cole. That was the weakest excuse he ever heard. Miss Waters was not a lovely lass, no, she was the Stranger reborn, he was certain of it.
‘’Hm,’’ Aemond said, tilting his head with a smile. ‘’You do understand she is bankrupt, yes? All the money she had, is invested in this trip.’’ He informed the man, hoping it would scare him off as a rat in the harbor.
And it did. He seemed utterly shocked at Aemond's words. Furious, even. ‘’She is? But I assumed…’’ Aemond’s interest finally peaked, and he grabbed the man by his hair, hissing in his face.
‘’What did you assume?’’
The man gulped. ‘’Jacaerys Velyaron was heard bragging about her. How he had her in his pocket. I assumed if Jace is interested….’’ The man fell silent once again. Aemond cursed, closing his eyes. Jace was Interested. ''Never mind, I shall focus on another lady instead.'' He promised Aemond.
Aemond scoffed, grinning madly. ''You already touched what belongs to me. You must pay for that.'' He said. ''You touched my Queen. You will die for that.''
The poor man did not intend to die for that, and tried to plead. ''She's of no use to me! You can have her! I am sure if-'' Aemond had heard enough. He grabbed the man by his throat, drove a knife into his stomach for a slow, painful dead and simply pulled the knife in, and out, watching flesh and blood pour out of the wound which each sweet pull. He imagined the reaction if Miss Waters was here to watch him.  
Soon, she too would be on her knees. As would the entire world. It would all be his for the taking. As it always should have been. Miss Waters was his, the world was his, and nothing would stand in his way. ‘’Make sure this mess gets cleaned up. And we need to think of a possible emergency plan for my new wife.’’ Aemond ordered his men. He had a lot to think about, and so little time. His wife was waiting for him soon, and he needed to charm her.
Cregan began with cutting the corpse loose from the chair. ‘’I mean, you can’t kidnap her, can you?’’ He offered, and it was a solid idea, had this been a novel. It was not a novel. He needed her consent, he needed her on her knees, begging him to marry her. A conquest without war is a boring conquest.
He did consider it, of course. But he does not want to pull that card, not yet. Not when he can make her fall in love with him naturally. ‘’I’ve considered it, but no. She must marry me first.’’ He said, avoiding Cole's judgemental glare. He always said that women were not property.
The Kingmaker began chopping the body into pieces. ‘’So that just means, beating the rich pretty boy and winning her heart first.’’ He summarized, dryly.
Aemond nodded, already feeling that he had failed miserably. ‘’Seems like it. I just don’t understand one thing: What does Jace even want with her?’’ He muttered. ‘’Well, I suppose we need to find out. And quickly. Because I am not letting that bastard get away again.’’
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A UPDATE
WOW
eh bye xD
Thank you for reading as always:)
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simplydannie · 3 days
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During the times Veneer freed Floyd only for Floyd to run straight back to him, did Floyd find Veneer having a breakdown after receiving one too many beatings from one of the Mistress' goons?
Oh he definitely did! And this was right after the Bergens REALLY let Veneer have it.
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Floyd was set free… again.
The little Troll was half way out when a burning sensation tugged at his heart…Veneer. This was the third time, and always, Floyd managed to go back. He could leave them at the hands of that evil woman, he almost did once… he couldn’t do it again.
With a heavy sigh, Floyd turned back around and headed back straight to Veneer.
Veneer had been beaten up before. It was nothing new. If it was bullies at school, it was the thugs of the under city that would completely pound him. They’d always assume he was weak, but he never fought back, especially now, because he knew his sisters life was on the line.
The Bergens left him on the floor, blood coming from his nose and mouth, his eye swelling up in pain. He looked towards the doorway as Velvet watched him, a frown on her face, crossed arms, she avoided his gaze.
“I had to let him go. It was the right thing to do.” He told her. She didn’t answer for a moment. “Please say something?”
“…. You ruined it…. You ruined it again.” Was all she said before walking away. Lump formed in his throat. Tears began to form but stung his bruised eyes. Veneer tried to stand and follow after her, but he was to weak this time. The Bergens really did a number. All he could do was crawl. Veneer crawled to the bathroom. Using the sink, he lifted himself to take a look in the mirror…. His face was bruised, his needles shut, blood staining his face… how could he keep on doing this?
The tears escaped him as he allowed himself to fall back to the ground, hugging his knees… he wanted somebody, he wanted Velvet, his parents, he wanted to Floyd… he wanted to be comforted. He just couldn’t take it anymore, his body couldn’t take it anymore, he physically and mentally couldn’t take it anymore. And it’s as if Velvet wasn’t even there. She let them beat him, she’d only stare with distant eyes, a pink hue always glowing….what happened to her? Sometimes he would look at her and it’s as if she wasn’t even there, as if something had replaced her. Was he like that sometimes? Is that what happened when he lost control that one day and captured Floyd? So many questions and thoughts swirled his head….He was just so tired. Veneer lay on the floor hugging himself tightly, he body shaking from the cold, pain, and tears that escaped him.
Floyd made his way through the vents of the facility. Perhaps he convince Veneer this time to leave with him, but it would be hard. He’d never leave without Velvet. Something changed in her…something eating from the inside out. He’d see it in Veneer sometimes, but he wasn’t to far gone….
He could hear screams and shouts through the air vents: The Mistress. She was angry, “Did you give him pain? Did you beat him senseless?” She shouted to her Bergens.
“Yes m’am.”
“Killed him. You should’ve just killed him! I am tired of this! He’s let the damn Troll out once to many times!” She sat her desk staring at the wall, “They ask me if it was a good idea bringing those two in. But so far, they’ve been the only ones to withstand the Troll poison and its effect…”
Floyd crept closer as he heard the mention of the twins, his ears perked up to catch every word.
“Other candidates are probably stronger Mistress.” Gruff commented.
“No..No the other’s have tested candidate after candidate. These two…they are definitely something. One is for them to survive so long alone in the under city. It’s proving effective. Veneer is resilient though. Somehow he’s strong enough to overcome the effects. That’s something definitely worth noting, but if he keeps screwing up, I’m afraid he wont see the end of day…”
Vennie, Floyd took off running in search of Veneer. He figured he’d probably be in the same room he had set Floyd free in, if the Bergens didn’t drag him away somewhere that is. Floyd ran to the room he thought he see Veneer in…He peeked through..empty.
“Where’s they drag you off too Vennie?” The little Troll was about to run off when he heard the cries coming from the bathroom. Using his hair, Floyd lowered himself to the ground. He waited a moment to make sure no distant sounds were coming, to make sure it was safe. After a moment, Floyd ran to the restroom…it was slightly opened. Peeking through, his heart shattered. Veneer was laying on the ground, hugging his knees, tears streaming down his face. His body shaking as he couldn’t control his sobs.
“Vennie?” Floyd approached the Rageon slowly, but Veneer didn’t hear. He continued to cry..
“….I want mom… I want dad….I want to go home” He heard him say in between his sobs. Floyd saw that Veneer couldn’t take it anymore… he was starting to see Under Rageous as home. That place wasn’t home, it was hell. Floyd walked to the Rageon and placed his small hand on Veneers arm. The Rageon felt the touch, and opened his one eye that wasn’t swollen.
“Oh Vennie. What did they do? Those monsters..” Floyd murmured.
“You need to go.” Veneer said.
“No. I can’t. Not like this. You need me here. I’m here for you. You got that.” Floyd said.
“But if they find you…”
“Let them. I’ll even walk back into the diamond willingly. Make it seemed that you changed your mind and caught me again.”
“But Floyd…”
��Stop it and just listen to me please.” Floyd stretched at his arms as far as he could. Embracing the top of the Rageons head, “just stay quiet for a while okay. I’m here.” Veneer squeezed his eyes shut, taking in the Trolls small touch. He began to cry again, but not because of hurt anymore, because relief and comfort… because Floyd was there, a familiarity. The anguish Veneer once felt suddenly washed away. He sighed in relief, allowing the stress to finally leave him. “That’s right. I’m right here. I’m not leaving you… not again.”
Floyd rested his little head on top of Veneers. The Rageons breathing slowed as he finally felt peaceful. Veneer allowed himself to close his eyes and slowly drift to sleep. He knew he had to face Mistress again. He knew they would be back in square one once Floyd was back in the diamond. But for now, Veneer allowed himself this moment to just rest and be in the comfort of someone he cared about… and who cared for him….
… everything else, they could figure out later.
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bengals-barnesbabe · 8 hours
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Imagine your first wash day at Joe's...
word count: 1.1k
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When you first started dating, Joe had only ever seen your hair in a protective style or wrapped in a scarf, granted you met in the summer so those were your safest options.
As time went on and you grew closer, you began to wear your hair out more which required much more work, so you left a mini hair care bag at his place. It only had a few essential items like a leave in, edge control, mini spray bottle, some hair oil and a pack of silk scrunchies. Since you spent the majority of the time at his place he believed that was all you needed to maintain your 4b/4c hair.
You moved in with him a month ago, and today is your long awaited and very much needed wash day. The weather in Cincinnati finally cooled down enough for you to let go of the braids, so you planned to do mini twists. You wanted to start as soon as possible, so when Joe left at 8 in the morning you gathered your bucket of haircare products and locked yourself in the bathroom.
It was about noon when Coach Taylor let his players out, they had a game that Sunday so he didn't want to run them too ragged. Joe, Tee and Ja'Marr decided to grab a bite to eat before heading to Joe's to cool off.
The moment the 3 men enter your living room is the exact moment you remember that you may have neglected to tell your boyfriend of today's significance.
"Hey babe, we stopped by that place you liked so I brought you- woah." Joe looks wide eyed at the organized mess of different combs/brushes, gels and bottles of hair products with you in the center of it.
You nervously smile at the trio. "Hi." You quickly finish the twist you're on and pause the movie you're 'watching'.
"Are we interrupting something- ohhh yea mhm got it. Let's go, Tee." Ja'Marr says assessing the situation.
"Yo wait, can you do mine next? You know, when you get a chance." Tee asks.
"Man, she aint doing yo crusty ass fade. I'm definitely next."
"There ain't nothing wrong with my cut." The two wide receivers argue on the way out.
You chuckle before turning back to your boyfriend, "I may have forgot to tell you today's wash day." You say sheepishly.
"You think?" He shakes his head and takes a seat on the cleanest spot next to you. "This is a lot, when did you get all of this?"
"I've had it the whole time, most of it stays in the closet a majority of the time." You shrug moving around some of the products so he can stretch out. He gladly scoots in closer and analyses your work in progress.
You had just finished the back before they walked in, your hair is pretty thick and a decent length so washing it took about 2 hours. Then you decided to make your life easier by making the process harder and blowing out the entire thing, that took another hour.
"The line in the back is crooked, but its look pretty nice overall."
You immediately smacked his chest. "Joey, what the hell."
"What'd I do? Do you not want me to be honest?" You glared at him.
"You've been hanging out with Ja'Marr for too long."
He chuckles and presses a kiss to your head, "baby you are the most talented, amazing and most beautiful woman I've ever had the pleasure to meet. And you are doing an absolutely fantastic job on your hair."
"Much better, now let me wash my hands before I see if you actually got my order right." You teased.
"I know you better than I know myself Y/n, you need to stop doubting my 'boyfriend skills'."
While you're gone he couldn't help but look at every single product in his vicinity. Trying not to knock over any of the open bottles of oil, he spots a bright blue gel-cream and reaches for it.
"Doo Gro, well I am growing out my hair." His curiosity getting the best of him, he scoops some out of the jar and sniffs it for safety reasons. Unable to place the scent, he rubs it in his hands then rakes his hands through his hair.
"Joe, what are you doing?" He jumps at your voice, effectively knocking over your bag of combs.
"Shit, baby. What does it look like?" He says now cleaning the mess of combs, in shapes and sizes he'd never seen a day in his life.
"It looks like you wanna be a giant grease ball." You snort picking a handheld mirror off the floor and putting it in his face.
"Jesus, I didn't put that much in." The dollop he picked up had somehow multiplied and made it look like he'd meant to slick back his hair.
"Aww my poor greasy baby, I hope you rubbed it into your scalp as well." You said picking up your plate and shoving the food in your mouth.
"I think I got that covered, does this stuff wash out- Y/n baby calm down it's not going anywhere." He stares wide eyed at the plate that's been half eaten in mere seconds.
"I know, I just haven't eaten since like yesterday. It probably does, just not all of it. At least you'll get thicker hair out of this," You can't help the giggles coming out as you continue to look at your boyfriend's head.
"It's not that funny." He bites his bottom lip as his own start to take over.
"You look like the kids that cover themselves in vaseline and peanut butter." The room's completely filled with your laughter to the point that everything has been forgotten.
"If doing your hair has always been this fun, let me help all the time." He smiles as the laughter subsides.
You shake your head, "I'll let you wash it next time and we'll see if you still wanna be included. Even with your giant football arms, you'll be tapping out before we get to deep conditioning."
He smirks, "all I hear is that you like my arms."
You scoffed and gave him a good once-over, "oh I like more than your arms." Biting your lip, you sit yourself in his lap.
"Oh yea, tell me more." His eyes blazed with desire as your hands run up his arms and down his chest.
"I love how big you are, but you already knew that." You smirk.
"Fuck." He growls pulling your lips flush against his.
₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ゚.
a/n: inspired by my HS self making the fact that I learned to do my hair during quarantine and mastered mini twists enough for it to become my entire personality. she was very humbled when they became a trend lol, I still love them tho and my nephew who covered himself in vaseline not once but 3 times. :)
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watcheraurora · 1 day
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A Life UnRemembered
Author's Note: Hermitcraft is... unique 1.7k words
Based on all the art of character!Joel not seeming to know why he built a shrine to the Ocean Queen. It's all gorgeous
Joel wandered his base. He liked how it was coming along. He enjoyed the resource gathering and the building. He enjoyed spending time with the Hermits. They were all so comfortable with each other that he couldn't help but feel welcome even though he was new.
But there was something needling at him. Something he couldn't quite remember.
He strolled down the stairs to the temple he'd built. The empty dais in the center where something should be enshrined. Pulling some clay out of his inventory, he slapped it down onto the dais and started to sculpt. It had been a long time since he sculpted anything.
He turned his brain off and let his hands just go where they wanted. Somewhere else in the world, Cleo would be proud of him. As the other major small-scale sculptor, they knew how much work it took to make statues this small, rather than huge with blocks. That was the easy way. Small amounts of clay around an armor stand were much harder and more fiddly.
Hours passed while he tugged at that needling feeling that he'd forgotten something. Trying to free it from where it was buried.
Nothing. He couldn't remember what it was he'd forgotten.
Two hours after beginning, he leaned back from his sculpture, stretching his back. Clay was caked under his fingernails.
Before him, he'd made a statue not quite to the scale he felt it should be, but he hadn't brought enough clay.
The statue was a woman. Tall. Lithe. Powerful. She had the regal bearing of a queen in some coastal kingdom far away from his cherry tree mountain. A trident slung casually in the crook of one elbow. A circlet resting above her brow that he'd jammed a diamond into the clay for effect while sculpting. The circlet had coral branches twining off at the woman's temples. She had long, flowing hair. He needed to paint the sculpture, but he already knew her hair would be pink. Her eyes and skin would be blue. The flowing gown a soft... lavender, maybe? Lilac?
A long axolotl tail extended from the base of her spine and up into the air, coral fanning off its ends.
And held gently in her arms, a much smaller man. Joel knew he'd paint the man's shirt purple. The crown in his hair gold with an emerald embedded just above his forehead. The sash green.
Why he knew those colors as easily as he knew his own hands, he wasn't sure.
Before he could lose the inspiration, he flew to the shopping district, landing hard at Pearl's dye shop. He scrambled to get his diamonds out of his Ender chest and bought every color he'd need. Dye wasn't exactly paint, but if he mixed it with a few other ingredients, he could make it work.
His Elytra's membrane snapped in the wind with the speed of his flight. He ran into his landing in the little hut he'd started his base in, scrounged up the last of the materials he'd need from his unbelievably disorganized chests—not his fault someone had come and messed with them—and soared back down to the shrine.
He painted quickly. Faster than he sculpted and certainly faster than he built.
When he finally stepped back, he was covered in paint and there was dried clay all over him. Creative projects were always messy with him.
He was breathing a little hard in the heat of the mid-afternoon, hair clumped on his forehead with sweat.
"There you are," he breathed, a tiny smile touching the corners of his mouth. He set his paints and brushes down.
The woman had come to life, in the clay and the color. Her deep blue eyes glittered. The gills on her neck looked delicate, despite being made of clay. The coral fans on the end of her tail were vibrant pink, her hair pastel. Her face shone with love and kindness, yet the fierceness of a true warrior of unknown power.
"Who are you? Why don't you leave my mind? Why don't you leave me?"
Because the smaller man in her arms, with his royal purple doublet and green sash—
He'd sculpted and painted himself.
The green in his hair that refused to dye out, only just starting to maybe grow in pink with this new world he found himself on, if he looked hard in the mirror (though he admitted that could have been an irritated scalp from him pulling so hard to try and dye it). The shape of his nose and his face. He'd sculpted himself without meaning to or trying.
Why the crown? Why the sash?
"Who was I then? Who were you to me?" he asked the statue.
The woman didn't respond.
Joel knelt before the statue on one knee. Even that felt oddly familiar. Like he'd taken a knee before this woman before. Maybe more than once.
"No..." He looked down at his hand. At the ring that remained on his finger no matter how many times he respawned or the situation that caused him to respawn. Simple and strong. If he took it off to build and then fell, the ring would be there when he came back. Always.
Tango had hypothesized it was a wedding ring. He had one himself. Tango had lived in Hermitcraft for a lot longer than a good portion of its other members. Since the second incarnation of the world. He hadn't always had his ring—gold and solid with a flaming red ruby and pale sky blue sapphire nestled against one another. It had appeared only a few years ago in the middle of a season after a jaunt off-world. Around the same time Joel and Etho met, though the memories were blurry. But since Tango had been on Hermitcraft for so long, he had lots of hypotheses. The world was isolated from the greater multiverse. Even the creative version of each Hermitcraft incarnation ran so closely parallel to the real world, its effects were the same.
But Tango had spent a late night telling Joel about his ideas of the multiverse while everyone else slept—the two of them awake to build a redstone machine and finish a building respectively. Each of them could create their own worlds elsewhere. And Hermitcraft's effects would no longer apply to them out there. But they all struggled to remember anything beyond Hermitcraft when they came back.
Tango thought they both might have a spouse. Somewhere out there on another world. Waiting for them. Spouses that the barrier between Hermitcraft and the rest of the universe didn't let them remember.
Could she be...?
Joel looked up at the statue.
The woman had webbed hands. She couldn't wear a ring.
"Are you my wife?" he asked. "Were you my wife? In another life? Or are you still? Somewhere out in the multiverse?"
The statue continued to be silent, looking down on the tiny version of himself with a face full of love and care. But the still-wet paint made those deep blue eyes glitter. Almost bittersweet.
Joel reached up, as though to cradle her face. To reassure her that It's alright, love. It won't be forever. I'll always come back to—
He couldn't reach her face. He'd made her too tall on the dais for him to reach without his scaffolding—that he'd already torn down.
He pulled out his communicator.
/w PearlescentMoon: Want to come see what I did? I think you'll like it
He didn't expect her response to arrive so fast.
<PearlescentMoon> whispers to you: Sure! OMW!
He only waited for a few minutes before he heard the snapping of Elytra membrane and Pearl ran to a stop on the flat area before his stairs. "Joel? Where are ya, mate?"
"In the temple!" Joel called back.
Pearl appeared at the entrance after a moment. "Hey!" she greeted, taming her long hair after her flight.
"Hi," Joel replied. He gestured to the statue. "I'm not as much an artist as you are, but I tried."
Pearl approached it curiously. "Oh my... mate, this is incredible. It's beautiful."
"Thanks," he said.
"How'd you pick the Ocean Queen?"
"The what?"
"Well that's who she is, isn't she? The Ocean Queen? Demigoddess of unlimited power over the sea?"
"I have no idea who... what?"
"Oh. Did you just come up with it, then?"
"I just let my instincts guide me through it."
"Hm. Maybe she's calling to you, mate. From beyond the stars." Pearl looked toward the setting sun, hidden as it was through the temple's structure.
"Maybe." Joel was less than convinced. "Tell me the story?"
"It's an old legend. From... I dunno, thousand years ago? Surprised you've never heard of it." Pearl leaned against the entryway frame, folding her arms. "Does the Cod King ring any bells?"
"Distantly?"
"That's the Ocean Queen's baby brother. She watched over his egg before he hatched after their mother died..."
"Lizzie?" Joel called, pushing open the door to Lizzie's base on SOS. "I'm home!"
Thundering footsteps met his ears. Lizzie appeared, the last of her armor falling off of her, a few bits of sculk caught on its edges. "About time!" she exclaimed, rushing across her kitchen and throwing her arms around him. "How's Hermitcraft been?"
"Fun," Joel said. He didn't have much to say beyond that. His memories of Hermitcraft were... hazy. At best. He remembered emotions. Some jokes. Lots of laughs. The vague shenanigan here or there. But nothing detailed. "I've really missed you." He held onto her tight, burying his nose in her hair. It smelled vaguely like sea salt and coconut. The cool metal of her wedding ring rested against the skin of his neck where her fingers threaded into his hair.
"I'm glad you're here. How long are you staying?"
"As long as I can. We knew when I accepted the invitation that it would be hard for me to travel more. But this was an opportunity too good to miss."
"I know. And I'm proud of you. But I miss you."
"I miss you too." He kissed the side of her head. "I'll stay for at least a month."
"Good."
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mlp-supernatural · 5 months
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0rionz-belt · 2 years
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I JUST REMEMBERED WHO HE IS HOLY SHIT HOW DID I FORGET ABOUT HIM??? WE HUNG OUT ALL THE TIME—
#for context: i found one of my vent posts from 3 or so years ago in which i mentioned a bunch of people i used to friends with#There were two names on that list who i could not for the life of me remember anything about. no face or memories or voice or ANYTHING#it actually took a few days or so of brute forcing my brain to even remember what my brain associated their names to their appearances#like i could remember that the girl i forgot had curly hair like mine but that was all.#and today i saw someone who i now can recognize as looking like him#and it just clicked in my brain and i felt a chill wash over me#but it makes the fact that i forgot him like i did so much more concerning#because i had been giving my brain the benefit of the doubt and letting myself think that maybe this was a guy i didnt know for very long.#But now I know that this was a very good friend of mine who I knew for multiple years in elementary and hung out with almost every day.#i can remember his voice and where we talked to each other after school and how tall he was and his most noticeable features.#I have thought about those years if my life countless times within the past few months purely because of all the shit that happened there.#stuff that formed me as a human being. the good the bad and the flat out weird as fuck.#and somehow NONE of those memories of him ever showed up.#its incredibly upsetting to me. i value nostalgia and sentimentality to a high degree.#ive kept old apps on my phone YEARS after ive stopped using them out of fear that all the convos and data will be erased.#and its troubling to me that i still can't remember anything about that other girl except for her name and hair and when i knew her.#its so fucked the human brain is so weird. literally this is why im a psych major.#vent
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gojonanami · 5 months
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❝ 𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐄𝐌𝐎 𝐁𝐎𝐘! ❞
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❝ COME ON, FUCK ME, EMO BOY!! ❞
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✧ pairing: emo boy! choso kamo x f!reader ✧ summary: saw this boy at the mall last week. got the kind of look to make me freak. wanna fuck in the back of the hot topic? ✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, so much smut, emo boy! choso, sex toys (vibrators, clit sucker), multiple orgasms, semi-exhibitionism, public sex (sex in the back of hot topic, sex in a changing room), fingering (f! receiving), oral (f! + m! receiving), big dick choso (but honey, that dick was 11 inches), also mahito + yuji make appearances, art by @/SS_utr3n. ✧ wc: 5.3K
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It had been a while since you had stepped into a Hot Topic (a while meaning three days or three years, take your pick). But this had been the third time this week you had been to this specific Hot Topic, and now you were sure the manager of the place had your badly taken picture and description scrawled in some notebook as a potential shoplifter. 
But it wasn’t the merchandise you were looking to pick up. 
It was him. 
You saw him when you were browsing the clearance rack, knelt down, evaluating whether you needed another blind box item that will inevitably not contain the character you were looking for (but on the plus side, it was on sale?), when you heard a deep voice speak. 
“Excuse me,” you glance up as you spot him — and you swear your breath gets stuck somewhere between your windpipe and your lungs, because you don’t breathe while this man kneels down next to you to place more items on clearance. Spiky black locks tied up messily on either side, fringe bangs falling in front of his face as he bent down, a tattoo across the bridge of his nose and was that — dark purple eyeshadow around his eyes — and his eyes — god, his eyes were gorgeous, a deep dark brown — and you swore, was that a hint of purple in his irises? 
He was everything that your teen self had wanted — the same guys whose profiles you had looked at growing up and thought were so hot. You caught a glance at the My Chemical Romance t-shirt as he stood, in black jeans, as he catches you staring, “Can I help you find something?” His tone was casual, but he was curious — probably curious why you were staring at him with wide-eyed saucers. 
“No, no, sorry, I—” no, don’t tell the hot Hot topic worker that he is hot — first of all its confusing, second of all— “I just wanted to say, I like your t-shirt,” 
Fuck. out of all the things to say — I like your style, I like your fit, I like your hair — you had to pick the most generic ass comment. 
He only nods, but you catch the barest upward twitch of the corner of his lip, “thanks,” 
And that’s all it took — you now needed to see him smile. 
Over the next few days innocently shopping at Hot Topic, you find out his name is Choso from one of the other workers, Mahito, calling his name. His hair is usually in those buns, but one of the days his hair was down, and you heard him complain that his hair ties had snapped. 
And his hair looked so good down, his long inky locks fell past his shoulders, but this was your chance to talk to him — “i have some extra hair ties, if you want them,” you offer him a few hair ties, “I overheard you talking with the other worker, I hope you don’t mind,” 
And he shakes his head, his lips quirked in that almost smile that makes your heart squeeze. 
Fuck. 
“Not at all, thank you,’ and his fingers brush yours as he takes the hair ties, and you turn to leave, but his voice stops you, “what was your name? I didn’t catch it last time,” 
You tell him, smiling, “Your name is Choso, right? I saw it on your nametag,” and he’s biting his lip, tilting his head in question, as you flush, cheeks burning, “I’ve noticed you a couple times when I’ve come in— not in a weird way, I just—” 
“I’ve noticed you too,” and finally he’s smiling — and you know he’s got you, you know you’re fucked. 
And you do get fucked — in the back of Hot Topic during his break. 
It had been a few weeks of you two talking and flirting, until finally, during his break he’s got you snuck into the back to show you the merchandise they haven’t put out yet. And you scoff when you come across a bullet vibrator, “you guys sell these?” 
He shrugs, “They started to in the last few years, not a lot. They don’t want the parents to become too outraged, but just enough,” And you snort, turning the bullet over in your fingers curiously, “have you never used one before?” 
And your cheeks burn, as you bite your lip, “No I never have,” and the next question stumbles out as a joke, “why? Wanna help me learn?” And you want to bite your tongue, but you’re too busy with the foot in your mouth to do so, and before you can apologize he speaks. 
“I would,” 
And your eyes snap to his, and you realize how close he’s standing, his eyes not filled with humor but something else — lust? — and his lips curled in a small smile. 
Fuck. 
“You’re gonna have to be a little quieter, love,” he’s murmuring in your ear, pressing kisses to your neck, as you’re pressed between his firm chest and the metal storage rack, fingers laced as you held on, the vibration between your thighs the only thing ringing in your ears. 
But how can you be quiet? 
The bullet vibrator is pressed right against your clit, and his thick fingers are parting your folds, so close to sinking into you, his deep voice whispering in your ear, hot breath against your neck. 
And the coil in your stomach is only growing tighter and tighter, and your squeals only grow more and more insistent. His fingers sunk into your mouth, “suck,” he ordered, and your cunt twitches at the demand, as you do, sucking and licking messily on his fingers, “good girl,” 
And he clicks the button of the vibrator again, increasing the vibration, making your eyes widen, a gasp around his fingers, “so responsive,” he groans, as your legs grow weak, and he’s stepping forward to steady you, but it also settles his dick between your ass. 
He’s huge. 
The bulge presses into you, drawing a hiss from his lips as you lean back against it, “Trying to tease me, sweetheart?” And he’s pulling his fingers from his mouth, a string of spit connecting from his fingers to your lips, “don’t forget who’s teaching you,” and he sinks his spit soaked fingers into your needy cunt, making your back arch into his body, “so tight, despite the vibrator,” he hums.
“Choso, please—” and he starts to fuck his fingers in and out, the squelch of your cunt ringing in your ears mixing with the buzz of the vibrator — you’re already so close, “I'm—” 
“Cum for me,” he’s grunting, as his fingers reach even deeper inside you, dragging against your walls as he curls them, finding that one spot that has you seeing stars. And your moan as you cum is stifled against your own palm, as he only maxes out the vibration and fucks you through your orgasm, “one more for me, pretty, you can do it,” 
“No, no, Choso, please too much, can’t—” and he only presses sweet kisses to your neck, and how are you already close — you just had orgasmed, but the coil in your stomach is growing tighter by the second, and you’re nearly crying when you cum again, your slick dripping down his fingers and the vibrator as he eases it from you, and then splatters onto the dirty tile floor of the backroom of Hot Topic.
“Good girl,” he murmurs as he’s tilting your head back and around for a kiss. And you catch a glimpse of the glint of your release on his black painted nails as he presses the pads into your mouth, your tongue swirling around his digits and sucking them clean, “that’s it, clean up your mess f’me,” and his other hand is wiping the tears from your eyes, “so pretty when you cry — can’t wait to make you do it again.”
Your cunt twitches at the thought, your cum still dripping down your thighs, “Again?” and he’s pressing another sinful kiss to your lips, “You didn’t think this would be our only lesson, did you?” 
And it wasn’t — the next lesson was spent in the fitting rooms, during a particular dead early afternoon in the store — and he had you spread on the fitting room bench, your black jeans pulled down to your ankles, as his head found its way between your thighs. You could barely hold back your whimpers as he pressed all too hot kisses to the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, burning already with his warm breath. It was too much. 
He was too much. 
“How’s that feel?” dark eyes flicking up to meet yours, half lidded with lust, as he watches your panting face, your head against the wall of the fitting room, “use your words, love,” 
“Too good, Cho-so,” the last syllable of his names escapes your lips in a gasp, as your cunt twitches as his lithe fingers tease you through the soaked material of your panties, “please, please, need you,” 
“What do you need?” and his fingers pull away, as his lips press a kiss to your puffy clit, pulling a whine from you, “what do you want me to do?” 
“Please, just—” and he’s tugging your panties aside, cool air rushing over your all too hot pussy, “please just touch me — with your fingers or mouth—” 
And his tongue drags over your messy cunt, and god, it feels too good — but a twinge makes you pause, and when you feel it draw a circle around your clit, you realize what it is — he has a tongue piercing. Your fingers thread their way in his black locks, resisting the urge to grab at his hair buns. 
He grunts, vibrations against your wet cunt, as you pull him impossibly closer to where you needed him most, his nose bumping against your clit, “you smell so good — how’s that possible?” and your eyes squeeze shut as his hands press your thighs further apart. 
That’s when you both hear the click of the entrance, and the door swinging shut — shit, the door — he forgot to lock it. Forgot when you had pulled him into a kiss right when he was ready to take a lunch break, all other thoughts had flown out of his brain once he let those doors swing shut and your lips had met his — well, left his brain and flooded southward. He also didn’t think a customer would be persistent enough to try the door and wander in when the doors were shut and the closed sign was hung up. 
“Choso, should we—” and the footsteps draw closer — and fuck — did you get wetter? And tighter — his moan is muffled against your walls, “Choso, stop, we—” 
“You don’t mean that,” he whispers, dark, half lidded eyes look up at you, your essence and his spit soaking his lips and dripping down his chin. And the footsteps are receding, the sounds of the shuffling and clinking of clothes hangers on racks in the distance, but all you can hear are the sounds of the wet, needy squelch of your cunt, “you aren’t being honest — but you are down here,” and his lips find your clit, sucking lightly, making your head jerk back, “want them to know how good I make you feel,” his lips leave your clit with a small pop, before murmuring against the soft skin of your thigh, “be quiet for me, baby,” and his tongue slips back into your cunt. 
He’s nearly slurping your juices up, his tongue tasting every inch of you, deliciously dragging against your twitching walls with his piercing, as your toes curl and your mouth parts in a muffled moan, one hand clamped over your mouth, and the other digging into his scalp. How could the person not hear you? How couldn’t they hear the wet squelch of your cunt as Choso fucked it with his tongue? How couldn’t they hear your badly swallowed moans and the sounds of your heart pounding out of your chest — and if they did, they certainly didn’t care enough to stop browsing through the fucking store. 
And you’re close, so fucking close, and you don’t hear the footsteps drawing close to the fitting rooms because your ears only can hear the wet suck of his mouth against your clit or the press of his tongue in and out of your folds, your thighs twitching under his grasp, fingers pressed into your flesh, “Choso, I’m so—” 
“Cum f’me, need to feel you cum around my tongue,” he sucks on your clit hard, teeth grazing the sensitive spot, and you cum, hard, your hand forsaking your lips to find purchase on his head, squirting all over his face as you did, soaking him along with the bench of the fitting room. And you can’t help the whimpers and moans that left your lips, as he lapped up your release without a care. 
And you slump against the wall of the fitting room, body still buzzing from your orgasm, as he finally pulls his tongue out, glancing up at you. Your chest heaves as you watch him lick your cum from his lips and chin, before wiping the rest away, and your eyes drift downward to the erection he was palming. And your fingers unconsciously reach for it, when your hear a door slam shut making your both jump. 
You cover your mouth — the customer, and Choso’s eyes meets yours, as the two of you break out in a laugh, “Fucking lock the door next time,” you sigh, covering your burning face with your hands, as Choso chuckles, lips curled in a smile.
“So there’s going to be a next time?” he tilts his head, and you flush. 
How could he go from eating you out like a desperate man without water to this innocent puppy? “Not if you don’t lock the door,” 
“It’s their fault for coming in when the doors were closed and there was a sign that said closed in big letters on the door,” and you shake your head, as he draws closer, “now, I have twenty minutes of lunch left — so where were we?” 
And you push him towards the changing room door, “Go lock the door first,” and he relents, chuckling. 
“Just for that, I’m going to look for the clit sucker I couldn’t find before.” 
~~~~
The two of you had fallen into a pattern. 
And you had become a regular at Hot Topic. You hung around him as he stocked the shelves, did inventory, price re-labeling, and even as he spoke to customers. You watched other customers speak to Choso, even flirt with him, but he never cracked a smile. Two girls were very persistent, but they deflated as he walked away after answering their questions, brushing past you, his hand brushing against your ass discreetly. Heat rushes to your cheeks, your head snapping to him as his lips curl when your eyes catch his gaze. But even so…
You still were just as clueless of where you stood with him as you were when this started. 
“You two have been pretty hot and heavy lately, huh?” you nearly jump out of your skin, as Mahito smiles knowingly at you, leaning against the counter with a shiteating grin. 
“What are you—” 
“Please, like we don’t know what goes on in the back during breaks?” he raises an eyebrow, as you bite your lip, “plus, never have I seen that gloomy guy smile, much less as much he does with you,” 
“Really?” your eyes find him again, as he crouches and lines up blind boxes on one of the shelves — but you can’t help the nagging question circling in the back of your mind — why hasn’t he asked you out yet? The two of you have hooked up, in and out of the store, but he still hadn’t asked you on a date. Even in the last few weeks, the two of you hadn’t even spent any real time together, except for your visits to the store -- he hasn't even taken you into the back. For all you know, you’re one of many people he’s bedding. Even if he doesn’t seem the type. 
“What? Trouble in paradise?” Mahito pulls you from your thoughts, head tilted and all too eager, “what’s wrong?” 
“No, it’s—“ he cuts you off with a look, and you relent with a slight pout, “he just hasn’t asked me out yet, I’m just wondering what he’s thinking—“ 
“Well, I definitely don’t think he’s seeing anyone else,” he hums, “but he does tend to go straight home a lot when you’re not around. Maybe something is going on at home?” And then he’s pushing you towards him, “no time like the present to find out,” 
“Mahito—“ 
“Choso! How about you and your favorite regular go for a quick walk and get us some drinks from the food court?” He grins, offering some money,  “be a doll, won’t you?” 
Choso sighs, “Fine,” and he brushes past you, taking the cash, before glancing back at you, “you coming?” 
You glance between the two of them, before following him out of the store. You both walk in relative silence, slipping past customers, as you reach the food court. Choso orders, paying with the cash Mahito gave, as he passes you one of the drinks, “Choso, can I ask you something?” 
His eyes slide to you, “Of course,” and god, his eyes stop your thoughts in their tracks — he’s so unfairly gorgeous, funny, sweet — you didn’t want to screw this up. You open your mouth to speak when you hear a voice. 
“Big bro, that you?” A rush of pink hair and energy is wrapped around Choso all of a sudden, “I didn’t think you got off until later,” it’s a teen boy, maybe fifteen or sixteen, his arm wrapped around Choso, and a varsity jacket on — this was Choso’s brother?
Choso cracked his rare smile, “I don’t get off until later, Yuji, but I came to grab a drink for Mahito,” and Yuji’s gaze slides to you. 
“Oh, I’m sorry I didn’t see you there,” he smiles a thousand watt smile, “I’m Yuji Itadori, Choso’s brother,” and he’s glancing between you and his brother, before his mouth falls into an ‘o,’ “are you his girlfriend?” 
“Yuji—“ Choso starts, a hint of a blush across his cheeks, as you stifle a laugh, “I thought you said you were going to study at home with Fushiguro.” 
“I wanted to see you when your shift got off — I thought we could have dinner together,” Yuji pouts, and Choso cracks in an instant, his lips curling. 
This boy had his brother wrapped around his finger. 
“Ok, but don’t goof off. Make sure to study,” and Yuji nods. 
“Nice to meet you,” and he leans in to whisper, “treat my brother good, ok?” And you flush, before nodding, as Choso raises an eyebrow, out of earshot. 
“I will,” 
“Cho, tell Mahito to fuck off for me,” and he’s off again, gone as fast as he came.
“Sorry about that,” Choso sighs, still a smile on his lips as he watches his brother in the distance, claiming one of the food court tables for himself and his friend, as he sits down next to a black haired boy, assumedly Fushiguro, “didn’t know Yuji would be here,” 
“I didn’t know you had a brother,” and he bites his lip. 
“It’s relatively new — we’re half brothers, but he just came back into my life. He doesn’t really have any other biological family. His grandfather just passed, and he’s staying with a teacher whose decided to foster him,” the two of you begin to walk back to the store, his gaze fixed downwards at the tacky mall carpeting, “he’s been staying with me for the last few weeks, while his foster father went on a vacation to Malaysia,” 
And now the pieces were clicking into place, “And that’s why you’ve been going home a lot lately,” and his dark eyes find yours with a tilt of his head, “I mean, you just haven’t had a lot of time lately,” you can’t meet his gaze, “it must be a lot to have a teenager staying with you.” 
“Yeah, he eats everything in the house, and he’s staying in my living room, which leaves little in the way of privacy,” and you can still feel the prickle of his gaze on you, “but I could use a break,” and you finally look and see a soft expression on his face, the same insecurity you had reflected in his gaze. 
No time like the present, right?
“Well, should we maybe go on a date?” and his cheeks flush a pretty red, all the way to the tips of his ears, “we’ve done plenty of other things that a couple would do, like—” 
And he’s shaking his head, “I know, I know!” he’s the one who can’t meet your eyes now, chewing his lip, “I’d like that — I get off my shift tonight at eight, I told Yuji we’d hang out, but I’m sure he wouldn’t mind postponing—” 
“We can always do it tomorrow, I don’t want to keep you from your brother,” and his lips curl into a smile, “he’s a good kid,” 
“He is,” and his fingers find yours again, “I can tell Mahito that I’ll lock up tonight, and maybe after I do, we could—” 
“Have another lesson?” 
And eight o’clock rolls around far too slow, but Choso definitely isn’t moving slow when it’s only the two of you. 
He’s pulling you into the back again, the door swinging shut behind the two of you, his fingers tight around your wrists as he’s pulling you into a bruising kiss, forcing your lips to part with a gasp, his tongue flicking against yours. The smooth surface of his piercing grazes against your tongue. 
And his fingers find the back of your neck, deepening the kiss impossibly, as his other hand slips down the curves of your body, pulling you against him, his clothed cock brushing against your aching cunt. 
Fuck. You had almost forgotten how big he was. 
And when you hear the zipper of his black jeans, you nearly melt against him, “Choso, please—” 
“I have to get you ready first, love,” his fingers find their way to the front of your jeans and undo the button, tugging the fabric down to your ankles. Cool air raises goosebumps across your skin, the pads of his fingers press against the wet patch of your panties, and he’s groaning, “but maybe I don’t,” 
“Fuck, so wet for me, aren’t you?” he murmurs, as he’s walking you backwards, into one of the racks, his fingers press into the soft flesh of your thighs. And two fingers hook around the waistband of your underwear, joining your jeans, pooling around your ankles, “nearly ready now, but I still have to loosen you up,” his fingers tease your outer lips, dripping with your release. 
One of his finger’s slips in with practiced ease, making your hips jolt against his hand, your fingers curling around the metal bars of the rack in front of you. His finger was so much thicker and longer than yours, his digit toyed with your walls, teasing and stretching until he drew a soft groan from your lips. He was the only one who could make you this desperate, his lips pressed against your neck, the heat from his body has your mind reeling with pleasure. 
“Mmm, Choso, more—" and he’s adding another finger inside your still all too tight entrance, making you whimper, as the intrusion is all too much after a few weeks of not having him inside you. 
“So greedy,” he murmurs, the wet squelch of your cunt ringing in your ears, “you’re practically sucking me in, but it’s still not enough for you, is it?” his tongue drags against the outer shell of your ear, his piercing against your skin, before his mouth envelops your earlobe and sucks. 
His fingers are fucking you open, your eyes screwed shut as the tips brush against that spot, heat flooding your body. And you don’t hear the shuffling of his other hand through a box, until you hear the sound of sucking, “Choso—“ and he’s pressing the sucker against your clit, your mouth falling open as pleasure rips up your spine, the sucking sensation with the lewd noises of your pussy being finger fucked is too much. 
You cum all over his hand, your hand clamping over your mouth so no one hears your moans — and your legs quake as you come down from your high, as he eases his fingers from you, “so pretty,” he murmurs, and you can feel his dark, lidded eyes on your drenched cunt, watching your sticky release cling to his fingers, purple painted nails glinting in the low light. 
And he’s leaning forward, kissing down your back, as he turns you around gently, so your back is pressed against the rack. You kick off your underwear and pants. You’re still panting, chest rising and falling as his fingers press to your chin, lifting it so you meet his gaze, as he sucks his fingers clean of your cum. Heat pools again, as his fingers undo the leather belt and he’s tugging his jeans and black boxers down to his knees, his erection springs out, slapping against his stomach. 
Your mouth runs dry. 
Fuck, he’s even bigger than you thought. 
Ten inches? No, maybe eleven. How was that even possible? That shit would break you — but fuck — your cunt twitches — you kind of want it to break you. 
“Like what you see, Princess?” you lick your lips in response, and in a trance, your fingers are reaching for him, curling around the base before you slowly start to pump him. You’re rewarded with a moan, a noise that goes straight to your cunt, as your fingers move faster, trying to find the right rhythm. Pre-cum leaks from the top, as you tease his tip, before stroking back up the length of it. 
And he’s a beautiful mess, his pale features flushed a gorgeous red, as he presses his hand against his mouth so his moans wouldn’t resonate. And his pre-cum drips all over your fingers, slipping down your wrist even, as you lean forward to lick it off your own skin, while you meet his gaze. 
His head lolls back, eyes screwed shut now, and your fingers drift to his sack, stroking and teasing while your lips find the tip, sucking lightly before your tongue drags over the length of his cock. And god, he’s going to blow his load now, if you keep doing that, from the way his hips rock against your touch. 
His fingers weave into your hair, nails digging into your scalp, “Baby, ngh, it’s too good—fuck—” he’s so close, twitching in your mouth as you suck him from tip to base, tracing his slit with the tip of your tongue, “shit, I can’t—” and you suck hard on his cock, massaging his balls, and he’s gone — he’s pumping his cock into your mouth as his cum spurts down your throat, as you swallow it all too greedily. You pull away with a pop, a string of cum and saliva connecting you to his dick still, before you wipe it away. 
He’s leaning against the rack, chest heaving as he watches you with lust blown out eyes, sweat sheen on his face, “Haa, baby, s’good f’me,” and somehow he’s still hard, as you rise to your feet, thighs pressed together, your eyes fixed on his cock, “you don’t have to—” 
And he’s still so sweet — his eyebrows knit together as he’s examining you with concern, but you’re only shaking your head, as you press a sweet kiss to his lips, “I need you, Choso, please,” and he’s nodding, lips meeting yours in a heady kiss that steals your breath, and he’s made you brace yourself against the rack, fingers curled around the cool metal. 
Your folds are exposed to him, slick and dripping, even wetter than before, “You liked sucking me off that much, love?” he murmurs, kissing your neck, before he’s dragging the tip of his cock against your needy cunt, “I’ll go slow,” he assures you, as you nod. 
He’s sinking into you inch by inch — and not even halfway, you already feel like you’re ready to burst, “So big, Choso, I—” and he’s murmuring quiet reassurances, as he’s parting your folds, the pain drawing a gasp from your lips, as he finally bottoms out. 
“S’good, baby, so tight,” he’s moaning, You’re taking deep breaths, pain ebbing with each second that passes. Choso pressing sweet kisses to your neck, his hands slipping under your shirt to tease your perked nipples, mixing pain with pleasure. Tears burn at your tear ducts, as you breathe shaky breaths, and finally pain ebbs away, and pleasure grows in its place.
“S’full, so big,” you pant, growing more needy by the second, he’s reaching places you’d only dreamt of — his leaking tip kissing your cervix, “move, p-please—ah!” 
And he does as you say, pulling ever so slowly out before pushing back in, grunting as he does as your tight cunt adjusts to his size and length — bullying your insides in a way no toy could ever compare to. You swear you can feel every inch, every curve, every vein as he rocks into you. 
“So pretty f’me,” he’s moaning, stifled by his bitten lip, as your walls only seem to pull him back deeper each time he pulls out,  “so perfect, take me so well,” he’s murmuring, as he teases your tits between his thumb and forefinger, “pretty cunt made just for me, isn’t that right, Princess?” 
“Yes, yes, Choso,” and his pace only grows faster, just as his groans grow louder. 
“No one else can fuck you like this, make you feel this good, can’t wait to feel you cummin’ around me,” he’s panting, his fingers tweaking your nipples, squeezing, as he fucks you deeper and deeper, his tip hitting your cervix deliciously again and again, “feels s’good, so wet and warm for me—” his hand comes down on your ass now, making you gasp, your cunt squeezing around him. 
Drool slips from your mouth, as you get closer and closer to cumming — the telltale flutter of your walls, “Choso, I’m coming, I can’t—” 
“Cum for me, let me fill you up,” and his fingers reach around to press a vibrator to your clit, and you’re cumming, falling apart on his cock, as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm. The squelch of your cunt and the way you squeeze him has him falling apart, spurting and painting your walls. 
The two of you slump forward, your legs nearly buckling, as you cling to the rack, before he’s easing both of you back onto a bench in the stock room. Your quiet pants fill the silence of the room, as he eases himself out, groaning as you both watch your mixed releases leak out of your cunt. 
“I don’t think I can walk after that,” and he chuckles in your ear, pressing a kiss to your neck. 
“Don’t worry, I’ll carry you,” and you laugh, his favorite noise in the world, as you slowly turn, making him groan as your soaked pussy grinds against his dick. 
“So then you can lift me up when I drop it?” your lips are curled in that same smile that had him hypnotized from the moment he saw it, and he can only reply with a bruising kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth, as you sunk yourself onto his dick again. 
God. He needed to buy you tickets to Warped Tour. 
~~~
The next time you show up to Hot Topic, you weren’t showing up to buy any merchandise. 
“Hey emo boy!” you call out, making Choso turn with a smile on his lips — the one especially reserved for you. 
“Hi baby,” he murmurs, kissing you softly, his arm around your waist, “I’m almost done. I just have to punch out.” 
You lean in, words whispered against his ear, “And then you’re gonna come fuck me?” 
You were picking up your boyfriend. 
He smiles, wrapping an arm around your waist, before kissing you again, “You know I will.” 
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note: i couldn't find who made this incredible art that i used after searching and searching, so if anyone knows, please let me know so i can credit them above in the description. this fic has been a long time coming since that silly blurb i wrote after watching one too many thirst edits of choso. edit: i found the artist: its @/SS_utr3n on twt!!!
tag list: @uroldall, @jlovesfrogs, @existential54321, @staryukis, @samistars, @chosoilysm, @astroholic, @emii4evr, @rose1238, @butterflieskeepcominback, @divinely-yourz, @fishii28, @seresukuin, @misalsmistake, @xkaidaxxxx, @cappric, @famebydefinition, @theatergeek, @sousblogga, @averagelonelypotato, @timesnewreader, @chrvstxl, @darylthekidd, @merelydaydreaming, @notafan77, @naughtygobbo, @smiley-babe, @butterflieskeepcominback, @entirelytoooobsessed, @acenanxious
31K notes · View notes
thexsilentxwordsmith · 8 months
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Spending the night at Simon's for the first time and him waking up to you in nothing but his oversized t shirt
Request from here
***
Eyes blinking as light filtered through his closed lids, Simon began to stir as the first bit of the days brightness filled the small bedroom of his tiny apartment. Slowly those thick, long limbs of his stretched their compressed muscles back to life as the blood flowed through them.
Turning over, he was surprised that there wasn't another body laying next to him under the covers; your bright eyes and warm smile were what he had planned to gaze upon, but there was no one. That put him a little on edge, this being the first time you'd stayed over at his shitty little apartment, but he tried to keep calm until he was fully awake.
Simon moved up onto his elbow as he lay on his side, his large hand rubbing the rest of the sleep that lingered from out of his eyes. He looked about, trying to find any signs of you: your discarded clothes from the night before lay in a pile on the floor right next to your shoes, your earrings still sat on the bedside table, and as he checked the mattress with his hand he found that it was still warm. It was obvious you were still around, he just had to go and find you.
A full yawn passed his lips before he heard the sound of clinks and taps, bangs and rustling coming from towards the kitchen area. So that's where you'd sulked off to, making breakfast no doubt.
God you were too fucking much, he wasn't used to all this sweetness, but he wouldn't change it for anything.
Carefully and quietly he moved out of the bed, scratching at the sparse covering of hair on his bare chest before he stood and straightened his sweatpants around his hips. He was hoping he could surprise you by showing up to catch you in the act.
With easy steps, Simon walked out of the bedroom towards the kitchen and what he saw standing there amidst pots and pans, a stack of toast and a pile of bacon to your right, it took his goddamn breath away.
The expectation was to find you naked, since the only clothes you had were still on his bedroom floor, but that wasn't what he found at all. Your hair had been pulled up, a few stray hairs poking out around your hairline that hadn't been secured and it looked like the only thing you had on was one of his old baggy t shirts.
As you moved, Simon could just see a peak of the underside of your ass pop through the bottom of the shirt, playing peakaboo with him the longer he looked. The lines of your legs, looked even longer as the shirt sat just below your hips. Those juicy limbs looked good enough to eat, bare and glaring back at him.
Fuck, you had never been more beautiful to him; it nearly made his goddamn heart stop beating. Being a big man had its perks and this was one of the best ones he found, that you were able to wear his clothes.
In that moment as he watched you happily go about your work, looking like a comfy dream, images of you doing this full time flooded Simon's mind and his stomach flipped excitedly at the thought. If there was anyone that could make that rough and brazen military man soft, it was you.
And maybe it was about time he let someone do it...
There was a sudden warmness against your back as two bulky arms wrapped themselves around your from behind, making you jump a little at the surprise. " 'mornin, luv," Simon's husky voice hit your ears before his kiss touched your cheek. "See you've made yourself at home."
You leaned into him, enjoying the warmth he still had from being wrapped up tight in the covers moments before. "I just...I wanted to do something nice for you, make us breakfast," you said, giving the eggs in the pan currently in your grasp a flip.
"Pretty sure you do more than enough for a bastard like me," he chuckled as one of those thick mitts moved down and cupped lightly over your sex. "This is all I need to stay well fuckin' fed."
Immediately the heat rose in your cheeks, flushing your face bright red.
"But I meant my shirt," he continued, secretly smiling from ear to ear at how quickly he had you blushing. Certain, heavy movements from his hands flitted across your torso as he rubbed over the lines of your curves through the familiar fabric of his clothing.
"Oh, sorry," you quickly apologized, thinking you had possibly overstepped, "I hope you don't mind, I just needed something and it was just there in the top drawer and..."
Another kiss on your cheek shut you right up. "Look fuckin' good like this, luv," he purred in your ear, his low, gravely morning voice making you shiver.
"Really?" you asked, glad that he wasn't mad you'd commendeered his clothes; in reality you knew it would be nothing, but this being the first time you'd done this, you still had some giddy nervousness about everything.
"Ya look like a fuckin' picture to me," he reiterated, those full lips moving down to your next now as he leaned more against you. "I thought I looked good in this thing, but it ain't nothin' compared to a fuckin' vixen like you."
You giggled playfully at all the sweet praise. Nearly missing the eggs being done, you turned off the stove and set the aside until you both were ready to eat. "Please, I look like hell."
"Bullshit," he said as he turned you around, picked up you, and placed your butt on top of the nearest countertop. He slid in between your open legs, letting his hands run down your side from where he had lifted you, sliding tenderly over the shirt. He was right, you were naked save for the shirt and that did something to his still sleepy brain.
Greedily he tilted his head and leaned up into you, embracing your mouth fully with all of his and making your lips dance together. Feverish and sloppy Simon connected with your lips again and again, making your still sleepy brain flatline.
If you could wake up every day like this it would be a fucking living dream.
His kisses would not let up as he pulled you in closer, his hands running over the curves of your back as he stole your lips with a lazy intensity.
"Breakfast is gonna get cold," you groaned with eyes closed, mouthing the words against his parted lips.
His hips bucked into your own. "Nah, my breakfast feels mighty fuckin' warm to me, luv," he said as he kept right at it.
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eraenaa · 2 months
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Birthday Present
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Feyd-Rautha x Lady Reader
Synopsis: During a state visit, you, a daughter of one of the great houses, have captured the attention and fatal attraction of the Na-Baron and were quickly turned into his promised wife. 
Warnings: ¿Enemies to Lovers-ish?, Arranged Marriage, Mature, 18+, P in V Sex, Blood Play, Fingering, Choking, Violence, Murder , Over Stimulation, Not Proofread
Word Count: 5,900 (pls bear with me)
Finally watched Dune: Part Two and needed to make a quick little fic because another psychopath to obsess over with has been unlocked.
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You dreaded for this day to come. You begged your father and brother to just leave you in the safety and comfort of your home, but still, they insisted— practically forced you to join them in the business venture they will partake in Giedi Prime. You walked out of the royal ship with your brother by your side, trying hard not to let the frown slip your face, especially when your fine dress had lost its color due to the planet’s black sun. Your eyes trailed around those who were present as a welcoming party for your kin, “Why are they all bald?” You whispered to your brother, who could not help but snort a laugh at your question. It was unnerving to look at them; no warmth nor life was evident. You were escorted inside the palace and it was barely different from the outside, still bleak and dark and plain. 
You feel curious eyes trail you as you walk with your family, who are being escorted to meet Baron Vladimir Harkonnen. You clenched your jaw and held your breath as you were met with the head of House Harkonnen. You heard tales about him and his state, but none could prepare you enough to be met with him face to face. If you had thought his subjects were already unnerving to look at, you would gladly give up the gift of sight just as long as you no longer had to see nor remember the image of the gruesome Baron. You quickly planted your eyes on the ground, having looked enough at the man who floated about in the middle of the room that you had missed the way that dark blue eyes were planted steadily on your frame. 
“Welcome to Giedi Prime, your Grace,” You hear the Baron greet your Duke father, and you stay silent and hope that they would be quick with the pleasantries and let you retire to rest after the long journey to their dreary planet. You hear the baron address your brother, making him step forward, and you pray for your presence to be ignored, but alas, your name was called, and you feel all eyes upon you. “A beauty this one is, your grace… she looks just like her mother,” The Baron mussed, and you could only offer a tight smile at his praise because you had no recollection of what your mother looked like because the price of your life was hers. You backed away and took your place next to your brother once more as the Baron began to introduce his kin. 
“My nephews, Glossu Rabban,” the baron introduced, and your brother nudged you to raise your gaze and show your host respect and recognition. You did as told and locked eyes with the dark blue orbs that had been entranced upon you ever since you entered the throne room. “And Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha,” You swallowed thickly and turned stiff as the heir to House Harkonnen stepped down and walked toward your direction. Your linked arms with your brother tightened as the Na-Baron paused before you, bowing and taking your hand into his cold ones before placing a kiss on your knuckles. Feyd-Rautha wanted to smirk at the wide-eyed and blushing state he placed you in. The only greeting you gave him was a quick curtsy and a mumble of “My Lord,” The Na-Baron returned to his place at the right hand of his uncle and kept his gaze tranced on you. 
“How long are we to stay here?” You asked your father as he and your brother escorted you to your chambers. “Until the treaties are settled,” your father replied, and you scrunched your nose as the eyes of Harkonnen subjects followed you wherever you went. “They’re all staring at you,” Your brother mumbled, noticing the curious gazes as well. “Maybe they haven’t seen anyone with color or hair yet,” You distractedly said as you looked behind, the pair of dark blue eyes still haunting and following your every move. “Did I really have to come here?” You asked your father with a frown. “Yes. We could not leave you alone for an extended period— what will happen if our planet suddenly goes to war and you were there, left alone?” Your father asked, his protectiveness shining through. “Then I’d be surrounded by our army and best warriors.” You replied and earned a stern look from your father. “What am I even supposed to do here?” You grumbled and ceased by the door of your guest chambers. “You can explore the planet— do some sightseeing.” He answered, but that only severe your frown. “Sightsee what? Everything here is either black or gray— either bleak or depressing” You said, making your father sigh. “Just get ready for dinner,” He said, and you gave up on fighting them and their decision to drag you to the planet. 
A knock sounded out in your barren chambers. You understood that the palace was pushing some kind of aesthetic, but they took it to an extremity. There was literally just a bed and an armchair in your chambers. A very stark difference from your own room or even the guest chambers in your planet’s palace. Your handmaid opened the door whilst you looked at yourself in the mirror; you were to be escorted by your brother and were expecting him by the door, but hearing the gasp from your handmaid told you otherwise. You looked toward the chamber room door and saw the Na-Baron standing by its threshold; your maid stood by the side, head hung low, and was quietly trembling in fear. 
“Can we help you, Na-Baron?” You asked and smoothened the fabric of your gown. Trying your best not to appear unnerved by his dark gaze or his imposing demeanor. “I am to escort you to the dining room, my lady,” He said and offered his arm for you to take; you made no move to do so. “Oh…my brother was—“ you slightly frown as he cuts you off. “He is already there with your father,” He said, and you licked your lips and hesitantly nodded, having no choice but to take his offer to escort you. 
Feyd eyes curiously at the gown you fashioned and the decorations in your hair. You were a deep and vivid contrast between him and his planet. Your dress made of velvet trained behind you, the heavy and overflowing cloth cutting through the silence between you and the heir of House Harkonnen. You did not know if you should converse with him or just remain silent. And if you did choose the former, what topic of conversation would you even propose to the fearsome— psychotic warrior that is the Na-Baron? 
“How are you finding Giedi Prime, my lady?” His deep and raspy voice cut through the silence, and you thought of an embellished reply that would not offend the warrior. “Different… I— it is most unique, Na-Baron,” You manage to say after a short while, Feyd noting how you struggled to give a kind reply, your brows in a furrow, and your lips would open and close as you thought of what to say. 
You finally could breathe freely, and your stiffened form turned lax when the Na-Baron escorted you to your seat next to your brother and let go of his hold on your hand. You tried your best to keep your gaze away from any of the Harkonnens as you feared they would immediately see the fear and agitation in your eyes. “Is this human?” You lowly whispered to your brother, poking the cut of unidentified meat on your plate. Feyd smirked to himself as he heard the fear in your voice— overly wary, and it would seem the tales of their house had been implanted in your pretty little head. “It is cattle, my lady… but if you do prefer human flesh, our cooks could arrange that for you,” Feyd-Rautha relished at how your eyes widened and your cheeks blossomed with color once more. It was an interesting reaction that he had never been accustomed to see. “No, this is fine,” You quickly said and did not miss the amused smirk on the Na-Baron’s pale lips. 
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The following day, you were set to tour around the planet with your brother along with the Na-Baron. You three had just stepped out of the palace and into the light of the black sun when your brother was suddenly summoned to attend the negotiations. You took a sharp breath and turned to your sibling, widening your eyes and silently willing him not to leave you alone in the presence of the Na-Baron. Your brother could only shrug and place a quick, chaste kiss on the top of your head as he ran back inside the castle walls. 
An awkward and uneasy silence followed you and your host as the tour began. Guards following the both of you in the direction of a large structure— that is as specific as you can get as the resident of the planet has still said no word as to where he was leading you. 
“This… is the arena,” the Na-Baron finally said, and you could hear the delight in his tone as if the brutal and triangular infrastructure had brought him calm and serenity. You nodded your head and wandered your eyes upon the high walls and countless seats that surrounded you. “You shall return here soon enough, a special celebration to take place in a few days,” You hear him say as your gaze was still stuck high above where you were guessing private boxes were placed. When Feyd did not hear your reply, he stepped closer and boldly placed a hand on your waist, making you jump in shock and quickly step away. “You don’t talk much, do you?” He asked. He usually was quiet, only speaking when he thought it necessary and the silence he provided brought an additional sense of mystery to him. But with you… he could not restrain himself as he felt the want— the need to speak. An urge he had never had before, an urge he could not control. 
“I prefer more to listen, my lord,” you answered, a white lie on your lips. You love to talk and blab about anything and everything, but you just did not want to exercise such habits with or around him, fearing he’ll grow annoyed by your yapping and slit your throat— a habit you heard he was fond of. You heard the Na-baron hum, and you avoided his gaze as he stared you down, as if trying to deduce if what you had said was the truth.
You followed the Na-Baron as he led you to more sights and structures that the Harkonnens take pride in. But everywhere you two went, you could not be rid of the curious and wondering gazes that followed. It was not a new scene; being a duke’s daughter meant you had been accustomed and exposed to the public. But being exposed and stared at and gawked at by people so different than you felt entirely unnerving. It made your skin crawl and your body tense uncomfortably. Your once proud and straight stature turned demure and small as you walked the dark and gray halls of the castle, you being the only thing of color and vividness in there, making you feel out of place and suffocated by the plainness.  
The Na-Baron escorted you back to the guest wing and paused by your door; you quickly curtsied and disappeared behind the metal doors to finally put some space and distance between you and the lord you had been forced to spend the day with. Feyd’s jaw clenched as the metal doors closed upon him; if it were anyone else, his patience would have run thin, and he would not looked kindly upon your impertinence. But even in your boorish actions, the Na-Baron could not help but find it amusing— possibly even endearing. 
As you were finished being prepared for yet another dinner, you turned to the doors once more at the sound of the opening, revealing your brother. “How was the tour?” He asked and sat by your bed as you stood in the mirror and adorned yourself with the precious metals and jewels. “When are we to leave? I… I would very much like to return home.” Was your reply as you still felt your skin crawl at how the eyes of the Na-Baron would asses you and your every move. “That bad, huh?” Your brother mused, and you sighed heavily. “I do not like it here, brother… I cannot… this place is entirely bleak and depressing.” You reasoned, and your brother only shook his head at your bellyaching. 
“They barely even have furniture! Their sun is black… there are no gardens or greenery and flowers to admire— I am quite literally the most vivid thing here!” You suddenly exploded, but your brother could only laugh. “Just a few more days, sister… we were most productive earlier. You’ll only have to endure this planet and its plainness for a few days more,” Your brother said, and you solemnly nodded your head, willing yourself to endure and be patient as your whole being wanted nothing but to return home. 
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True to the Na-Baron’s words, you and your kin were in the triangular arena a few days later. A grand celebration for the birthday of the heir of House Harkonnen. Feyd-Rautha stepped out into the black sun and walked onto the pit with the screams and cheers of his house’s subjects. His eyes cast above and searched for only one being— an attention he seeks to be entranced upon him. The Na-Baron felt his lips curl wickedly as your eyes were upon him, seated in the royal box next to your brother. Your expression trying not to show contempt or disapproval. The Na-Baron was known for his skills in fighting— he is the greatest warrior there is. Everyone was impressed and in awe by his skills in combat, and he was certain that it, too, would impress you. 
You clenched your jaw and turned your head to the side as the Na-Baron was relentless in fighting the remaining members of House Atreides. You planted your gaze on your lap and fisted the fabric of your dress as you hear the land of steel and the grunts of prisoners. You took a deep inhale as your brother nudged you once more, urging you to watch the scene as it would be an offense if the Baron caught you ignoring the efforts of his favored nephew. You swallowed thickly and returned your eyes towards the men who fought; there was only one opponent now. 
Feyd-Rautha returned his gaze to you, delighting as you still had your eyes upon him. There was only one prisoner now, only one more man between him and the amazement he thought he would garner from you with his violent display. But as Feyd-Rautha set his eye on the final prisoner, his jaw ticked, and his hold on his blade tightened as he noticed that the Atreides prisoner was not drugged. He turned his spiteful gaze to his uncle, the vile man simply smirking and giving a nod of his head. Dark blue eyes flickered at you, who had her lip between he teeth in anxiousness. The Na-Baron squared his shoulders and refocused; he could not be made a fool nor a failure when the eyes of his planet were upon him— not when your eyes were upon him. As always, Feyd-Rautha emerged victorious in battle. 
“The slave wasn’t drugged,” Feyd said as he stood before his uncle, his form rigged still with the pestering feeling that he might have failed and been humiliated under your gaze. You tried to kill me?” he gritted out, but his uncle was merely amused. “Tonight, you are a hero… my gift to you,” The Baron explained, but that did not sedate the rage in the Na-Baron’s being. “I ought to drown you in that tub,” he snarled, but his uncle chuckled at his threat. “Don’t be hasty… I have another gift for you,” that piqued Feyd’s interest. “A bigger one,” his uncle added. “The girl, the duke’s daughter.” With just the mention of you, the Baron noted the quick shift in his nephew’s temperament. Desire shining through his rage. 
Feyd’s lips staggered as he thought of a reply, as he thought of how his uncle was able to acquire you for him as if you were some mere whore and not a daughter of one of the great houses. “Her father approved?” He asked and saw as a smirk rose to the lips of his uncle. “He had no choice but to… if he wanted the treaties to take place and for war to not come to their planet— he must offer his daughter to you.” Feyd let a rare and sincere grin slip his lips with the thought of you being bound to him. 
By the guest wing, an ugly discussion was taking place. “Father, you cannot be serious,” You all but cried, “To that psychotic Na-Baron!?” You screamed with tears streaming down your face. You knew it; you knew coming to Giedi Prime was a mistake— your intuition warned you greatly, but you ignored it and complied with your father’s wishes and orders. “There was no other way. I’m sorry,” Your father sighed and tried to take hold of you to calm you down. “You would leave me here to be his bride? You would leave me here vulnerable in the desolate walls of these Harkonnens?” You cried in pain, but your expression turned confused as your father shook his head. 
“The Na-Baron, your betrothed, will be heir to Arakis… you shall stay and rule there with him.” You hear the hopeful tone in your father’s voice as he tells you that you will be the lady of the most coveted seat and planet in the universe. “You… you cannot do this to me— please do not do this to me, father, I beg of you,” You cried, only crying harder as your father took you into his arms and offered you his apologies once more. Nothing can be done; you were now promised to the fearsome and formidable Na-Baron. 
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They arranged for you to acquaint yourself more with your soon-to-be husband. Servants of House Harkonnen escorted you to him, and you followed mindlessly, but your stomach pitted in fear as you realized you had been led to the Na-Baron’s chambers. Your lips agape, and looked behind to see the servants hurriedly shuffling out of the Na-Baron’s room. You felt yourself grow cold and the life in your face went pale. You cautiously looked around the chambers and saw three women by your right, dressed and styled differently than the servants. The presence of women used to always bring you comfort in uncertain scenarios, but the three present did not aid your raging fear. 
“What’s so special about her?” You hear one of them drawl to the other, and you feel your lips upturn in confused fear. “Such a pitiful thing… weak and so fragile, could not even stomach to watch our lord handsomely fighting those puny slaves,” You frown and finally turn to them, the three just as eerie and disturbing to look at as any of their people, maybe even more so. “So what does she have to be rewarded with our great master Feyd-Rautha?” A third girl asked, and that is when you realized what their roles were. They looked at you expectantly, trying to know what you possessed to be rewarded or punished with the title of the Na-Baron’s betrothed. “I do not know,” you began, “Perhaps hair? Or sanity? Take your pick.” You boldly replied and watched as their teasing and amused looks turned scathing and jealous. Before any of them could make another remark, the sound of the door opening and boots walking the floor echoed through the room. Your expression was hard as you watched the three girls lower their heads demurely and out of respect as their master entered. 
“Ah, my future wife… I see you have met my darlings,” You turned to your betrothed, a smirk on his lips and his dark eyes sickeningly delighted as he was in a room filled with women he was certain would bring him much pleasure. You licked your lips and crossed your arms across your chest, your gaze flying to the three women who brazenly insulted you just mere moments ago. “You whores,” You boldly stated and let a fleeting smirk fly to your lips as you heard them hiss at your true statement. “My darlings.” Feyd-Rauth corrected, defending his loyal pets. You hummed and nodded your head. Finally, matching the fiery gaze of the Na-Baron. Every second you held his gaze, Feyd felt himself tighten against his trousers. You had always shielded your gaze from him, never letting him stare deep into those enchanting and lively eyes, and now that he did, all he wanted to do was stare into them, watch as tears would form when he made you cry in pleasure. 
“I always thought whores are acquired after marriage, but I suppose the Na-Baron is always one step ahead,” You bitterly mused at the man across from you, expecting him to grow enraged as you called his ‘darlings’ whores once more. But instead of rage, you only saw the smirk on the Na-Baron’s lips widen. “Are you jealous, little wife?” He asked and threaded closer, you let a frown slip your pretty face and a scoff left your lips. “Do not call me that,” You gritted. “And no, I am not… in all honesty, I am relieved in their existence if it means that you would be preoccupied and far from me and my bed; you could have a hundred ‘darlings’ for all I care,”  You stood your ground no matter how your mind went alarmed at the murderous look on your betrothed’s once amused expression. 
You chewed your cheeks as the Na-Baron silently motioned for the three women to step closer. You thought he was testing you, to see if you were truly unbothered and not at all jealous that your future husband was being satisfied by other women, but you gasped in horror as Feyd-Rautha swiftly took his dagger and slit the throats of his three pets. They fell at your feet, and you could only watch and step back in horror at the scene of black blood pooling and spewing from their throats. You were trembling, and Feyd-Rautha took you into his arms, forcing your face to look at him, enjoying the horror in your eyes. “Now, nothing will keep me from you and your bed, wife,” he lowly whispered, and you were defenseless as he captured your lips. Hungrily kissing you and pulling you impossibly closer to him to feel the softness of your frame as blood flooded under your feet. 
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All was quick to fall into place. One moment, it was announced you were to be wed to the heir of House Harkonnen, and the next, you were being prepared for the actual ceremonies. You felt bile rising and tears falling as you stared at yourself in the mirror. A gown of white in the make and design of your home planet rather than the fashion of Giedi Prime. “You look beautiful, sister,” Your brother complimented quietly. He, too, turned solemn as he had no way to protect you from the arrangements made behind closed doors. “Let’s just get this over with,” You mumbled and took his arm for what you believed would be the last time. 
You were being escorted down the aisle by your father,  Feyd-Rautha’s eyes upon you impatiently; he could no longer wait any further and suffer through the ceremonies and banquets before he had you alone in his chambers. After your kiss two nights prior, you quickly left the chambers and left the Na-Baron to want and desire more. Each moment that had passed has left him hard and strained, with no other outlet for his needs to be quenched and met; his only choice was to wait for you to be his wife. 
It should shame you to admit, but the kiss you shared with the Na-Baron didn’t leave you disgusted. It was alarming to note that your body had turned warm, and throughout the night, your thoughts strayed to wanting more. You had been kissed before, once, but it was nothing compared to the way Feyd-Rautha kissed your lips. 
You stood by his side as a man in front spoke in a language you could not comprehend or understand. The only thing your mind could focus on was the way the Na-Baron’s hand held yours. Cold and calloused palms enclosed around warm and soft ones. You raised your gaze as the man in front of the two of you finally spoke words you understood, announcing to the room that you and the Na-Baron were officially husband and wife. You set your eyes upon Feyd-Rautha, whose dark eyes were on your lips. Letting go of your hand and taking hold of your face to kiss your lips without warning. It was a quicker kiss than the one shared the previous night, and you were dismayed yourself as your body wanted more, so much more. 
Feyd smirked as he saw color bloom onto your cheeks and felt its warmness against his cold touch. No word was exchanged as he escorted you through the aisle, the cheers of his subjects ringing loudly; absent were the reactions of you and your kin. You were still silent during the banquet, only offering a ghost of a smile when you two were approached and presented with ‘congratulations.’ You tried to ignore the way your body responded when your husband placed his hand on your thigh, giving it a squeeze now and then through the fabric of your gown. “You look ravishing, my darling,” You hear him whisper in your ear, his warm breath sending a chill down your spine. 
“Do not call me that,” you gritted as you had no wish to share an endearment he used with his whores. Feyd smirked as he believed that heard a hint of jealousy in your honey voice, “And what would you like to be called, wife?” He asked, and you clenched your jaw and thighs as that brought a surprising twist in your core. Your reaction was not missed by the Na-Baron, a wicked smirk spreading to his lips and his hand inching higher from your thigh. “Tell me, wife… are you too as excited as I am for the bedding?” He teased and nipped your ear, making you gasp, turning to him with shock and wanting-filled eyes. Your eyes shifted from his dark blue orbs to his plush lips, and the desire for it to be against you became increasingly prominent. You gulped as his eyes turned impossibly darker and his jaw clenched, you took a sharp intake of breath as he abruptly stood. “The feast is finished, leave.” That was all he said before he urged you to stand and dragged you to his chambers. 
You were like putty in his arms as he pushed you up against the cold wall of his chambers. Your lips roughly danced against each other, and his hands hiked up your wedding dress, leaving fire with his cold touch. For days, you had convinced yourself you felt no attraction to the man who had his lips on you’re neck and hand against your cunt. “You are a great actress, wife. Making me believe you hated me— wanted nothing to do with me, but that cannot be true, not when your cunt is so wet and ready for me.” You gasped as he inserted his finger inside you without warning— the feeling foreign, and you did not know if you should embrace the uncomfortability or the prospect that pleasure was quick to bloom. “So tight… my little wife had never been defiled— that shall change,” He mused against your lips, swallowing your whine when he inserted another finger inside your wet cunt. 
“M-My lord,” You cried at the curl of his finger; you heard him ‘tsk’ and rub his thumb against the sensitive bundles of nerves on your cunt. “Enough with the formalities. I am your husband, and you will call me by my name— you will scream my name when you come.” Your eyes rolled back as his other hand clasped around your neck, your husband thrilled and overjoyed as you only clenched tightly around him, and a pleasured moan slipped past your lips. He thought he’d have to be gentle with you— that he would scare you with his savage desires, but as he felt you cling and clench to him as he added more pressure around your throat, he knew you would be able to take and would be grateful for his brazenness in fucking. 
“Feyd… Feyd!” You cried as you felt your thighs tremble and your core painfully twists in want of release. You whined and cried as you felt his fingers slip out of you, your knees weak and your body desperate for release. “Patience, little wife,” Your husband cruelly mussed, his eyes locked upon you as he licked the essence of you clean from his fingers. You moaned as his lips met yours again, tasting yourself as his tongue teased yours. You whimpered as he placed his rough hands tights on your hips, imprinting his mark and making it known to you that he was yours. You groaned as he bit your lower lip hard enough to draw blood, him pulling away to admire the red the beaded on your plump, sweet lips. “Such a pretty color…” he murmured and bought his finger to wipe away the blood and taste it, you growing more aroused as a rumble emerged from his throat. Feyd watched as more blood dripped from your lips, and he wasted not a drop of it, kissing and tasting all of you. 
Feyd moved the two of you to his bed, pushing you down on the soft, silk-coved mattress. You swallowed thickly as he took out his dagger once more, a grin on his lips as he saw a speck of fear in your eyes. “Such a beauty you look in this dress… but I know you’ll look better without it,” He took the dagger and cut through your fine gown, nicking your stomach on the way. Feyd zeroed in on your sweet blood once more, his eyes hungrily taking in your body that was now exposed to him. “Oh…” You moaned as his tongue soothed the cut he made, his tongue teasing you as it would thread lower but would return to the cut every time it oozed blood. “Feyd… please,” You finally relinquished and let your needs be known. He hummed as his cock grew harder at your moans. 
“What do you want, little wife?” he hummed and took a deep breath of your scent. You whined as his tongue teased your navel, and his lips threaded further south but quickly moved north again. You moaned as his black teeth gently bit your bosom, his cold hand pawing at the other, your nipples taut by his cold hand and hot tongue. “Tell me, little wife, what do you want?” You whimpered again as nipped your skin once more, “You. I… I want you,” You finally said and yelled when Feyd flipped you to your stomach. Anticipation sat heavily as you heard him shuffling to remove his clothing. You breathed harshly as you felt his hands on your behind, kneading the smooth, plump flesh; his thumb teasingly brushed your cunt, and you were quick to moan. 
“What did you want again, my pretty wife?” He hummed by your ear, his toned body pressing against your back, his throbbing cock resting on your derrière. “You, I want you. Please, Feyd… I— please just fuck me,” You cried and let go of any pride you had in exchange for feeling pleasure. You howled as his thick and large length pushed its way inside you. Feyd hissing as the tip of his cock was being squeezed by your cunt. You were wet, galaxies, you were wet. But not wet enough for your husband’s cock to slip inside comfortably. Friction and resistance were prominent, and Feyd enjoyed that tremendously. Excruciating pain first had to be felt before you could feel the pleasure that you were desperate for. 
You gasped and felt tears rim your eyes as a cold hand found home around your neck again. “So fucking tight… all fucking mine,” Feyd hissed as he fully sheathed himself inside you; his hand felt the trickle of pained tears, and he was determined to turn it into tears of pleasure. “Such a good wife taking all of me,” He praised and squeezed your neck tighter. You whimpered and raised your gaze, only now noticing that the wall that your husband’s bed rested upon was entirely reflective that you could see him in all of his glory. Knelt behind you and a pleasured expression on his face as he gradually moved his length in and out of you. 
It felt like eons before you finally felt pleasure, but when it finally came, it was the most blissful feeling you had experienced in your life. The way he harshly gripped your throat, the way that his lips would pepper kisses on your shoulders and back, was enough to quickly drive you into climax. One where you screamed and called for his name, begging him to slow down, but he did no such thing. Only increased his speed and moved his hand to draw circles upon your bundle of nerves, coaxing another climax from you, making you scream his name louder and your body over-sensitive. “Feyd, Feyd, no more, please,” You cried as your whole body was already exhausted and trembling. 
“I do not understand you, wife. Just earlier, you were begging for this… you were begging to be fucked by me.” He grunted as he, too, felt his peak to come. He moved his hands to bundle your hair, the texture so soft and foreign, his fingers running through the locks and pulling it to make you groan. “Such a perfect cunt, such a perfect wife. You will sire me many heirs… you will always be my side.” Feyd groaned as you squeezed his length tighter and tighter to the point he felt pleasurable pain. You hear his animalistic growl when he finally spills himself deep inside of you, watching through the reflective wall as his face contorted into sheer pleasure, his rasping voice repeating your name as you feel both of your essences drip on the inside of your thigh.
He moved your head for your lips to meet with his again, him biting down to draw blood once more. You pulled away and gasped for air as well as gasped in shock as you felt his once limped and just emptied length grow erect inside you. “Did you truly think we were finished?” He asked against your lips. “I’m going to fuck and breed you until you’re unable to walk, little wife.”
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racinggirl · 4 months
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that's my girl
Lando Norris fic - requested
My inbox for requests
a/n: it took me a bit longer as I have been quite busy this last week, but it's hereeee! I hope you like it, I have to say I love badass Y/N a lot, so thank you for the request! It's a bit shorter, but we need some variation in life, don't we? Let me know your thoughts! It's not proofread, so be aware for any minor mistakes, if there are some. Lots of loveeee. Don't forget to send in requests! I love all the requests I've gotten so far 🫶🏼
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‘’What kind of snacks do you want?’’ You asked your boyfriend as you were preparing some somewhat healthy snacks before he would go live on Twitch. You were filling up a bowl with Maltesers because, let’s be honest, who doesn’t like those? You then decided to grab a knife and cut the cheese and cucumber to make the tray snacks somewhat healthier.
‘’Can you lay on the tray?’’ Lando wrapped his arms around your waist from behind, causing you to tilt your head when he planted soft kisses on your neck. ‘’You already had that snack not too long ago, mister Norris.’’ You teased, keeping your eyes closed as you felt his hands making its way under your shirt, close to your bra.
‘’Nah, ah.’’ You put down the knife and took both his hands in yours, moving them down and placing them on your hips before reaching back for the knife. Your action caused him to groan, and you simply smirked as you felt how much he needed you, because let’s be honest here, it was impossible to not feel him through his jeans.
‘’Grapes, mango?’’ You continued, focussing back on the tray of deliciousness in front of you. ‘’Chocolate covered strawberries.’’ He replied, walking to the fridge. ‘’Yeah, ehm, about those…’’ You bite your lip as you looked over at the – way too perfect – McLaren driver, who happened to be your boyfriend.
‘’No, you ate them?’’ He asked, turning 45 degrees to look at you with puppy eyes. ‘’Oh stop it! You ate my piece of cake the other day!’’ You laughed, feeling his hands on your body as he tickled you. ‘’Lando! Stop!’’ You managed to breathe out in between your laughter.
‘’You ate my strawberries!’’ He exclaimed; his arms wrapped tightly around you as you tried to somehow escape his grasp. But he was strong, of course he was, he was a Formula One driver.
Talking about his job, you were proud of him. The two of you had been dating for a few years now, the world only finding out in your 3rd year of dating each other. You had no idea how because you never purposely tried to be secret about it. You never went out in public, never really posted about one another on your socials, either. You only really started doing that when people noticed your relationship.
You were almost done with your degree now, though. Meaning you had more time to come to some of his races. You loved going there, not only to support your boyfriend, but also to learn about all the behind the scenes of the sport. It was something that fascinated you ever since you started dating Lando.
However, you tried to stay out of the camera’s as much as you could. You never held hands when you walked through the paddock with him; if you walked through the paddock with him. Most of the time you arrived after he did because you either had to finish some online work in the hotel room, or because you wanted to stay out of the spotlight.
You never really enjoyed being in front of the camera’s, hence why you were so invested in all the behind-the-scenes stuff. It wasn’t because you weren’t confident enough, not at all, because you were, and that’s something Lando always admired about you, especially when you started to receive hate. You just never thought being in front of the camera suited you, those cameras around you, people asking questions, it just annoyed you, and you decided you didn’t want to take a part of it.
It didn’t mean you never supported him, though. You were always there for him, and he knew. He never complained, he never told you you weren’t supportive, no. He loved how your relationship was different than the ones from all the other WAGS, he felt like he wasn’t sharing you with the entire world, that you were just his, and that’s exactly how you felt, too.
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‘’Good evening chat! Long-time no see, ey?’’ You heard Lando’s smile through the words he just spoke, waving at the camera as he leaned back in his chair. He glanced over at you, his eyes gliding over you before quickly shooting you a wink. You laughed and rolled your eyes at his action, simply knowing the chat would comment on his wink.
‘’I’m good, enjoying the off season as much as I can.’’ He smirked. ‘’Aren’t we, babe?’’ He asked and you got up, looking at him with a raised eyebrow. ‘’I for sure am.’’ You winked before walking to the kitchen to get your snacks.
You always were seated outside of the camera’s view. As much as you loved staying out of the cameras at the track, you did the same whenever he streamed. You never did it purposely, though. You never hid away from the cameras; you simply never purposely were in front of them.
‘’Grabbing snacks!’’ You yelled from the kitchen when you heard Lando read the comments. ‘What’s Y/N doing?’ and ‘Where’s your girlfriend going?’
‘’She’s getting snacks, chat. You won’t believe it, but we actually prepared those for tonight.’’ He smirked, sipping his water as he read through the comments. ‘’We?’’ You asked, raising an eyebrow with a smile. ‘’Right, sorry chat, my lovely girlfriend Y/N prepared the snacks.’’ He said, watching you placing the tray of delicious food in front of him.
‘’I’m just missing one snack on here, but sadly there’s not enough room on the tray for that.’’
‘OMG HE DID NOT JUST SAY THAT’
‘HAHAHAHA Lando naughty naughty boy’
‘DUUUUUUDE LANDO WHAT LMAO’
You sat down next to him, your legs over his as you grabbed a Malteser from the tray. ‘’You’re very original with your jokes tonight, Norris.’’ You smirked, reaching for your phone before you opened TikTok, keeping yourself entertained when Lando continued his stream.
He loved this about you, he loved the fact that even though he was live, streaming and being in front of cameras, you never backed down. You never changed when the cameras were there, you always stayed yourself. That was probably the thing he admired most about you, and things he definitely learned from you.
As the hours went by, the tray of food was nearly empty. You got up a few times to go to the bathroom, get something to drink, get some more snacks and so on. Lando got up to go to the bathroom for the second time this evening, leaving you alone with chat.
You kissed his lips before he left the room, you simply deciding to pop up in front of the camera this time. You read some messages, smiling as they told you you looked beautiful. ‘’Aw, thanks guys, or girls, that’s sweet.’’ You replied, leaning your chin on your hand as you continued reading a few more comments.
The second you heard him coming back in the room, you commented on a question in the chat, Lando sitting next to you with a smile on his face. He loved it when you interacted with his fans, which you sometimes did. It’s not like you were completely offline when it came to the fame he carried with him, you just never really bothered to become an influencer like some others did.
‘’Nah, ah, Norris, they are asking me questions now.’’ You teased, holding your hand up when he started to talk again.
‘HAHA Y/N’s such a vibe’
‘Yeah Lando, we’re chatting with your girl now!’
He simply chuckled, pecking your lips when you looked at him and he then enjoyed the scenery he saw in front of him.
After a while, you got up from your chair, going to the kitchen to refill your glass of water for the fourth time that evening, and made your way back to the room when you heard your boyfriend reading some comments out aloud.
‘Y/N doesn’t love him, she never holds his hand in the paddock, what a supportive WAG.’
You furrowed your eyebrows at that comment, and just as Lando was about to say something to defend you, you put your glass of water on the table in front of you.
‘’Last time I checked, my job title wasn’t ‘WAG’. I’m an engineer, not a runway model.’’
Lando looked at you, amazed, proud, and smiling like an idiot. ‘’You heard her, chat.’’ He smirked. ‘’That’s my girl.’’ He whispered happily.
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The end of the stream was nearing, and you got up to head to bed. ‘’Goodnight, babe, I’ll see you in a bit.’’ You whispered before placing a kiss on his lips, smiling against them as he returned the favour. You glanced over at chat one last time, feeling Lando’s hand on the back of your upper leg.
‘’Next time I’ll open the ‘WAGs Handbook’ to catch up on some of my duties.’’ You smirked at the chat. ‘’Goodnight chat, sleep tight.’’ You blew them a kiss before walking out of the room, heading straight to bed.
Not long after you positioned yourself in the king-size bed Lando had in his bedroom, you heard the door opening; your boyfriend making his way to you. ‘’You’re amazing, please never change.’’ He whispered and pressed his lips on yours, firmly.
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Later that season
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1K notes · View notes
simplydannie · 3 days
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@kais-va no angst as you asked lol this is one I did awhile ago but forgot to post it! (I scrolled through my account and I swear I didn’t see this one anywhere!)
The twins have been doing community service under the watchful eye of the Trolls. This time their service takes them to Vacay Island where a day off means a day in the sun… unfortunately, for Vennie, that’s doesn’t turn out so great.
It was really bright and really sunny day on Vacay Island. On top of that, it was very busy. Tourists have been swarming in left and right; tourists of all species.
On the beach near the water were 3 figures: two tall with green hair and pale skin, one little purple one no bigger than a tennis ball. Velvet wore a two piece golden suit and a large sun hat. Her long hair tied in a flamboyant ponytail, bangs curled around her forehead. Round sunglasses shaded her eyes and rose pink lipstick on her lips. Her brother was to her left. He wore golden trunks to match his sister and black round sunglasses. His hair wasn’t styled in his normal updo. Instead he let the water take its role, allowing his hair to sweep in a type of faux hawk near his eyes. He no longer wore his green lipstick to match his sister; this time he was his own man.
In between them lay a small little purple Troll sprawled out on a small beach chair. Green rectangular sunglasses blocked his eyes, a smile across his face. The three sighed in unison.
“This...” said Floyd.
“Is...” continued Velvet.
“Perfect.” finished Veneer.
The three lay with their arms behind their head as they soaked up the bright, smiling sun.
“...Wow! Revenue up 40%. Let’s get some more cheese melted for some more nachos! Let’s get those drinks up and ready. We got more coming in.!” Bruce’s voice trickled and boomed as he got closer to the trio. “Velvet, your idea of opening our doors to Mount Rageons everywhere was Sp-ec-tac-U- lar!”
A sly smile crossed Velvets lips, “I know, I know.” She beamed.
“Ahem.” Floyd coughed, lowering his sunglasses side eyeing her.
“I mean, you’re welcome. Anything I can do to help.” She rolled her eyes and sighed.
“Maybe a little less attitude, but better.” Floyd beamed.
“I really don’t know why I am going through this behavior intervention. It’s really pointless.” Velvet said.
“I don’t know, you seem more barable now... fun even.” Veneer smirked. Velvet grabbed her towel smacking her brother across the face.
“And you’ve became a more smart ass than usual... I hate it.” She sneered.
“Love you too sis.” Her brother laughed.
“This conversation is going a lot better than most-oooohhhhh wow.” Floyd took off his small sunglasses and gasped towards Veneers direction.
“What?” Veneer gaped. Velvet turned towards her brother for a good look…. She then bursted out laughing.
“Oh my god- what?...What? ...WHAT!?” His voice began to grow shaky and nervous.
“ I don’t know, you tell me. Can I have some grilled cheese with the that tomato soup sir?” Velvet said between laughs. Tears began rolling down her eyes as the laughter continued. Veneer gaped at her clueless.
“What?! Tell me!?” He begged. Before Floyd could respond Poppy and Branch joined the trio… their eyes going wide when they saw Veneer.
“Omg Vennie!” Poppy exclaimed, “Like red is definitely your color but not like this!”
Branch joined Velvet in laughter…. Which made Veneer even more anxious… Why is Branch laughing too? He thought.
“Dude, have you ever heard of “sunblock”?” Branch asked with a smirk on his face.
“Duh! Floyd gave me some!” Veneer desperately tried to look around for something to see himself on.
“ Which one? I gave you two, and one was NOT sun lotion.” Floyd declared. Velvet continued laughing handing her brother her mirror.
“Priceless.” She sneered.
Upon looking at himself.... he saw it. His cheeks were flushed red. The redness flushed his face, neck, torso…all the way down to his legs. Velvet was right, he looked like he had jumped in tomato soup.
“No, no, no, no, no!!” He stammered. He reached for his towel and wrapped his entire body... well as much as he could. “No one said anything!”
“Well I didn’t get a good look at you until now.” Floyd said, “you better put something on before it starts peeling.”
“Oh Vennie, youll be fine! It doesn’t look that bad.” Poppy tried to say.
“I look like a freaking tomato, Poppy!” Veneer said.
He eyes the beach from side to side: it was jam packed with people. Anyone could’ve of seen and anyone was going to see if he walked out of there... a red glowing stick.
“Vels hand me your towel!” He demanded.
“You have your own!” She exclaimed.
“Ya but yours is longer. Covers more. Pleeeeeaaase!” He begged.
“I mean there’s not MUCH to cover anyways.” She smirked as she laid back closing her eyes again.
“Velvet.” She turned to see Floyd standing up right with his arms across his chest. He lifted one eyebrow giving her a stern look.
“Uuuuggghhh. Boys are much more drama queens than girls are yknow. Here moron.” She tossed him her towel.
“Thank you!” Attempting to wrap himself like a burrito, Veneer stood up and made his way toward the resort.
Leaving his sunglasses on, he twisted and turned, avoiding any eye contact that he could.
“Excuse me. Sorry. Coming through.” He said as he weaved his way around the crowd. ‘Almost there, almost there’, he thought to himself..….
OOF.
He accidentally ran into a Vacationer carrying a tray of food and drinks. Veneer tumbled to the floor loosing grip of his towel.
“Sorry my dude… whooooaaaa.” The Vacationers eyes widened upon seeing Veneers red glowing skin.… Everyone there gaped as they saw him….everyone.
“No, no thats my bad!” Veneer desperately reached for the towel and wrapped himself up again. “Uuuh have a good day!” He ran…. He ran straight toward the room he was staying in.
Once inside he went straight towards his bed, burying his face into his pillow…. He was NEVER going to show his face after that again.
“Stupid Veneer.” He told himself as he buried his face deeper into his pillow.
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hemmingsleclerc · 4 months
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Golden Globes ┃CL16
summary : where you go to the golden globes with your mystery bf and end up being an f1 driver
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The day had arrived, after weeks of anxiety, you were already dressed in ypur beautiful dress, with your makeup and hair done just waiting to leave. Your boyfriend was there with you, but you had both decided not to pose together on the red carpet, so it would just you. After you received the news that you had been nominated in the category of ''best supporting actress'' for your film ''Oppenheimer'' released that same year, you hadn't been able to sleep, you longed for that award after having given your all to that role.
The Golden Globes would be important, that day your boyfriend would accompany you and you couldn't ask for more. In fact, both had tried to keep your relationship as private as possible for the last two years, but at that moment it almost didn't matter to hide it from the public eye.
Arriving at the event, Y/N, adorned in a stunning floor-length dress, gracefully walked the red carpet, flashing smiles and waving to the adoring crowd.
ynupdates
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ynupdates Y/N has arrived to the golden globes looking stunning!
Inside the venue, the atmosphere was equally charged with emotion. You and your partner had already met and were both walking hand in hand.
The glitz and glamor of Hollywood's elite filled the room, and Y/N couldn't help but feel a flutter of nerves as she took her seat among the nominees.
As the night progressed, the tension in the room reached its peak when the "Best Supporting Actress" category was announced.
The presenter was reading the names of the nominees while a camera pointed at each one when the room fell silent. Y/N was gripping her boyfriend's hand tightly when the presenter said "And the golden globe goes to" and her heart raced when her name echoed through the auditorium. Her eyes widened in disbelief and she stood up from her seat, she gave her boyfriend a kiss and hugged several of her friends before heading to the stage.
While on stage, holding her award, Y/N began her acceptance speech with her voice shaking. She thanked the incredible team she had worked with on the film, acknowledging the director, her co-stars and her team. The audience burst into applause upon hearing her words.
Then, in a moment that was sure to garner attention on social media, Y/N took a deep breath and dropped a bombshell. "I also want to thank the love of my life, my rock and my biggest supporter ever," she said, drawing shocked faces from the crowd.
The camera panned to capture the surprised expressions on the faces of the audience. Speculation in the room intensified when Y/N continued: "Charles, my charlie, you have been my pillar of strength throughout this incredible journey. Thank you for being there for me through the good and difficult times."
Attention was focused on an elegant Charles Leclerc, sitting in the audience, with a proud smile adorning his face watching her. The revelation caused astonishment in the room and the crowd erupted in a mixture of applause, cheers and murmurs of surprise.
The cameras captured the genuine emotion on Y/N's face as she continued her heartfelt speech, expressing her love for Charles and how he had been the unwavering support she needed all those years. The audience, initially taken by surprise, eventually broke out into a standing ovation, celebrating the couple.
When Y/N left the stage, Charles greeted her with a big hug and a kiss telling her how proud he was of her.
ynln
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ynln What a night!!! thank u @goldenglobes !!!
and also thank u to my boy @charles_leclerc for holding me before I passed out from excitement.
username GIRL WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK!??!?!?!?!
username SINCE WHEN????????????
charles_leclerc beyond proud of you❤️
liked by ynln
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dcxdpdabbles · 5 months
Text
Alfred's Boy Part 5
@donesodone said: I just wanted to know. Is there a continuation of Alfred's Boy in the Works? If not, that's fine. I just love it and want to see it continue.
Bruce didn't realize how quiet Danny indeed was until Wes appeared. He suspected, of course, that no child was removed from their home by a super secret ex-spy if it wasn't a terrible, horrible reason, but still, he was shocked to see the difference.
Alfred's foster son had a weight around him, wearing his sadness like a depressing cloak. It was apparent that Danny was just tired. As if though he hadn't gotten a good night's rest in a long time, even when he was moving about and doing his chores like nothing was amiss.
Bruce will admit that he hadn't realized that Danny was so sad. He had no previous reference to compare him to, so he assumed that the boy was naturally reserved.
If he's honest, he also thought it was impressive how Danny could take anything in stride without so much as a blink.
Finding out his boss was Batman? Another Tuesday.
Tim's photo album of him? Danny appreciates the art behind photography.
Damian burst into his room, covered in bleeding wounds, he just had to have Danny bind? He took lessons from Alfred and appreciated the change to practice.
What he failed to realize was through all those events, Danny had had a lukewarm reaction, as if he had forgotten how to enjoy things.
Now, however, watching him with Wes, he realizes that Danny is naturally bubbly. He smiled wide, talked a lot with his hands, and while the same sass he had seen before was still there, there was more ease in him wielding it.
"Fun Fact: Tango was initially invented to be done between two men, " He hears Wes say, as Bruce walks by the viewing room the two boys were in.
Unable to help himself, Bruce peeks into the room, fighting the urge to lecture Danny. The reason for the lecture is that Danny is currently sitting in Wes's lap, his back to Wes' chest, and both are staring at the book "Useless Information" in Wes' hands.
Not dating his ass.
"So what you're saying is: Tango is gay," Danny affirms, cuddling into the blankets tucked around him, and leaning further into Wes. "The dance of our people."
Wes hums, "If only we could dance."
"Boys." He calls because he really wants to step between them, but Bruce is already doing that against his kids, and he is done being the civilian in Jason's novels. "Would either of you like to go to an opera tonight? I have some box seat tickets a close friend gave me, but I had other plans and didn't want them to go to waste."
Bruce didn't, but a little white lie wouldn't hurt anyone. He could easily buy them before the kids got to the opera house.
Wes's eyes practically sparkled. Bruce knew they would; he heard Wes play some songs from three famous operas the other day while Danny was showering. "Opera with box seats!? I love to go!"
Danny grimaces, clearly not that big of a fan. "Now look what you did, Master Bruce."
"Please, can we go, Danny?" Wes whines, "I'll let you haunt me if we go."
Danny cracks a smile, and Bruce is stunned by its softness. Had he not noticed how empty Danny's smiles have been until now? "Okay, Okay, we can go. But if I fall asleep you can't complain."
"How could anyone fall asleep at the Opra?"
"Easy. It's boring." Steph snips, leaning on the door frame. Bruce hadn't realized she was there. He frowned in her direction, not missing how Wes rolled his eyes.
"Hello, green-eyed monster. How are you this evening?" He said, making Steph eyes narrow. Danny was swinging his head between them, looking confused, but before he could ask, Wes continued, "Want to go with us? Danny needs more people to cuddle, and my visit has an expiration date."
Steph looks taken back, but her whole face breaks into the largest smile Bruce has ever seen on her face in a while when Danny nods, seemingly embarrassed. "It would be nice to have more cuddles. I, ugh, realized I was going too long without them."
Hmm, that's the fifth time the two have mentioned cuddling since yesterday. Bruce knows he ignored Wes's entrance when he got here yesterday, but maybe he should look into it.
If Alfred allowed, of course.
"I'll go get ready!" Steph shouts, racing down the hall. There is a brief pause before a loud "Hey, watch it!" and quick, distant "Sorry, Jason!"
His second oldest stridden into the room, grumbling at the giant front stain on his shirt. A half-empty cup in his hand lets Bruce know Steph bumped into him, making him spill his precious soda.
"Can't get any peace around here," Jason mumbles.
"I can clean that for you, Master Jason." Danny is quick to say, standing up from his seat. Wes lifts his arm to let Danny wiggle out of his grasp, but Jason only shakes his head.
"Nah, it's fine, kid." With one hand, Jason yanks the shirt over his head. Wes drops his book, and Danny's face goes very red. Bruce has a moment of utter horror, but Jason doesn't seem to notice, throwing the ruined shirt over his shoulder. "I was going to shower after some reading anyway. What are you crazy kids up to?"
"O-Oprea," Danny shutters, staring up at Jason with strange emotion in his eyes. Wes looks like a deer caught in headlights beside him.
Jason's face brightens. "No way! I love the opera."
"You do?" We gasped.
"Yeah, though, I'm more of a play guy myself. I love the theater. Once a drama kid always a drama kid." Jason winks and, oh no, Wes looks to be swooning. What's worse, Danny seems to be swooning too.
"Want to come with?" Wes blurts, and Jason considers the invitation carefully before shrugging.
"You know what? Yeah, I love to. Let me go take my shower then get ready. It's at what time?"
"Seven," Bruce answers, stepping in when both boys seem unable to get their tongues to work. Jason nods, and then a wicked smirk grows on his face.
Bruce is instantly weary.
"Let's make this a family event. You guys don't mind, right?" Jason turns back to the boys, shaking their heads like bobble figures.
"The more, the merrier, Master Jason."
"Perfect" Quick as a whip, Jason pulls out his phone and sends a quick message. He leaves the room, but not before calling over his shoulder "I'll meet you in the main doorway at six-thirty."
Bruce's phone buzzes. He pulls it out, reading the message: Hey losers, Danny wants to see the Oprea. The really romantic one. Do any of you want to join us?
He feels a headache coming on. Especially with Wes and Danny looking at each other with shocked open mouths, looking like they were wordlessly expressing how attractive they thought Jason was.
Tim comes sprinting down the hall. Bruce is unsure what he is doing, seeing as his hair is wrapped in a towel, but he is wearing half of a chicken costume as he runs by. "I want to go, I want to go, I want to go! Don't leave without me!"
Wes squints at the open door hallway before laughing that strange, impish laugh of his. "This place is a riot."
Danny pauses before that same soft smile blooms on his face, and Bruce's heart melts. "Yeah, I like Wayne Manor too."
Maybe Danny isn't as happy as before, but maybe one day he will be. Bruce would be content with that.
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