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#processing the new season has been....a lot
foone · 2 days
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weird thought: I think if I was a teenager now (or anytime in the last decade or so) I think I would have written (and read!) a lot more fanfic than I did in reality, where I was a teenager in the 90s.
See, I've never been hugely into fanfic. Never had anything against it exactly, but it just wasn't something I was into. But I think that has to do with an interesting combination of how my brain works and what time I was first really getting into being a fan.
I've got a "librarian" brain (I'm literally typing this from within a library, WHERE I WORK). It wants to know things like "what are all the works in this series/by this creator?" and "are they all accessible?" and "what info is available about how it was made?"
I'm the kind of person who will watch a show then go look it up on wikipedia to see how many seasons it has, who made it, if they're still making it, check tvtropes for any more info, etc. Or I hear a song I like by a band I've never heard of, so I go listen to their entire discography while researching them. I just focus on things I'm into that way, you know? I don't half-ass my interest. (this is probably related to my autism, of course)
So what does this have to do with fanfic? like, do I go read some fanfics as part of this process? No, and I think the reason for it is when I specifically first got into fandom, as a teen.
See, this sort of fandom-librarian was harder to do in 1997, you know? You couldn't just pull up the wikipedia for that new show and see how many episodes it had. You also couldn't just listen to the whole discography of that band! Forget Spotify or Google Music, even Napster didn't exist yet.
So my interest in fandom focused a lot more on very basic questions: How many episodes/albums/books/whatever are there? Where can I see/hear them all? Like, I remember getting excited because I found some fan magazine that had a list of all the Star Trek: The Next Generation episodes. Just a list! Not even descriptions or anything. I finally could take that list and see how many I'd seen, so I'd know when I saw them all in late-night reruns.
So I'm focusing on these very basic parts of being a fandom-librarian and I stumble across some fanfic. I'm like "oh, is this a transcript of an episode I haven't seen yet?" and I realize it's not, it's a story written by a fan, and I get a knee-jerk reaction of "that's not helpful to my quest to know and find all the episodes". It's like I am on a quest for the holy grail and I found a fake cup. It's not helpful to me, and at worst it's a distraction from my goal.
And the thing is, I think the fact I had that reaction is entirely due to the time and situation in which I first encountered fanfic. It was in that environment of "I can't even find a list of the episodes, let alone a way to watch them all!" and that anxiety that colored my response to finding fanfic.
I think if I instead was first introduced to fanfic NOW, where those fandom-librarian drives aren't so difficult to fulfill, I'd be way more positive about fanfic. If I could get a list of episodes with a quick google search, and watch them easily on netflix/prime/whatever, I'd be less "THIS DOESN'T HELP! I AM STRUGGLING WITH THE BASICS HERE!" and more "yay, more content for the fandom I'm obsessed with!"
Like I said, I'm not anti-fanfic, I never have been, I just never got into it. From the beginning I had this reaction that was "this is not useful" and I never developed any real interest in it. Which is a shame, honestly. Fanfic is great. It just never became one of my interests, and while I've written it and read it from time to time, I imagine I'd be way more into it if I didn't have the weird reaction to it due to the worries of the time in which I first encountered it.
I don't know how many other people have brains that work anything like mine, but if they exist, I'm glad they're now growing up in a world where they won't have these problems. They can get into fanfic without this weird baggage caused by a lack of information.
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entomolog-t · 2 days
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Finding Strength- Chapter 2
Nearly A WHOLE YEAR after the first chapter WE ARE BACK !!
Meet Rose, a varsity athlete who should needs to pay more attention to the concussion safety protocols. Also Grayson (you'll see a lot more of him eventually)
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Next Chapter: Chapter 3
Word count: 2160
CW: Adult language
Rose smiles. She smiles as the sweat beads that slick her brow drip into her eyes. She smiles as her limbs grow heavy, arms burning and near useless. She even, to the displeasure of her teammate, smiles as she drills. Her grin an ever present, and rather unnerving, fixture on her face as the duo works their way through their umpteenth repetition of speed drills. 
Through gritted teeth Grayson Wilder manages to hiss out a quick knock-it-off before being met her forehead ramming square into his gut as she shoots yet another blast double. As her she makes contact, Grayson is swiftly reminded why pre practice Mcdonalds was a terrible idea. 
Who even drills blast doubles during speed drills anyways? 
As Rose plows through the take down, Grayson uses the brunt of his mental fortitude to curse their coach for having dared to suggest that doing some extra drilling with Rose would be light go’s for him- that, and to keep his meal firmly where it belonged. 
Grayson lands with a grunt, and Rose takes the time to give him a sympathetic look before the two hustle back to standing, only to repeat the whole process again.
And again.
And again.
And- 
The sound of the score clock's buzzer could have been a choir of angels to either athlete at this point. Sweaty, drained and sore, Rose sighs- not from fatigue, but instead satisfaction. There was a buzzing in her arms, shaky and electric with that telltale combination of adrenaline and exertion. Speed drills objectively sucked. Getting stuck with one of the 90 kilo men for a partner sucked even more. But losing her shot to go to Nationals last season has sucked the most. This season would be great- even if that meant she would have to favor the monotony of drilling rather than the excitement of scrimmage.
Think big. Rose grins, testing the sound of her new little mantra in her head. First early birds, then provincials then-
“Rose!”
Her thoughts are abruptly interrupted by a shout from her coach. Hank Miller beckons her over, a cheeky smile on his face as she jogs towards him.
“Another double and Grayson looked about ready to turn Green… son.”
Rose wishes she has the self control to groan, but instead, she laughs. 
“Think he’s McLovin it?”
“He’ll be McLoving his sauna suit, that's for sure.” Hank shakes his head. With sigh he hands her a packet. Though as Rose grabs it, Hank doesn't let go. Eyebrows raised expectantly, his smile is replaced by a more stern expression. 
“Filled out by Monday, got it?” 
Rose rolls her eyes, but Hank’s grip remains firm.
“Don't lose it.” 
In a feat of self control that could rival that of monks, Rose resists the urge to inform Hank that it's not impossible to print another copy. Though in fairness, with his downright cretaceous tech literacy, there were good odds that for him, it may in fact be impossible.
“Yes, Mom.”  Finally, he relinquishes the thick stack of redundancy forms. With the packet in tow, Rose makes a B-line for her water bottle. Quick drink, stretches… maybe some footspeed drills? The thought of managing to get her legs to move with the growing weight of fatigue and lactic acid setting in was far from appealing, and there was also the weight of impending assignment deadlines to consider…
It should be a felony to have assignments due the first week of the school year...
With a groan, Rose downs her water as she meanders back on the mat to start her stretches, the cool water an oasis in the mugginess of the wrestling room. Though, the coolness of the water does nothing to hide the red hot glare she can feel burning a hole into the back of her head. A quick glance behind her reveals Hank, with a frustratingly smug pair of raised eyebrows as he casts a nod toward her packet; left abandoned on the sidelines.
With all the subtlety of an air horn at a funeral, Rose makes a show of bringing the oh-so-precious forms to her bag, grin smeared across her face as she plays up her exasperation. She can hear Hank laughing behind her, along with another “Monday” for good measure. 
Looking over her shoulder Rose makes sure to shoot him a glare of her own as she shoves the papers into the front pocket of her-
A scream.
Head on a swivel, Rose's eyes immediately lock onto the source-  a strained yelp escaping her as the sight sends her sprawling back. Her mind races, fumbling as it strains to make sense of what she was almost certain could not have been in her bag. 
“...You good?” Hank’s voice feels like a lifeline back to reality, reeling Rose in from her shock. 
“Uhh y-yeah, no. I'm good.” She lies,  “Just, uh, papercut.”
Rose didn’t move. Hell, she wasn’t even sure if she had been breathing. She was frozen- feeling as if even a blink would dispel the almost certainly not real reality that stared back at her.
There's…. There's a man- A very small man- in my bag.
Rose swallows nervously. Had she hit her head and not realized? Grayson had made her eat mat on at least one failed attempt at a leg shot… Could concussions cause hallucinations? 
There's a tiny man in my bag.
They definitely could, right? Rose couldn’t help but notice the irony that she couldn’t remember the stupid Safe Sport Concussion Awareness presentation. What was more concerning?  Hallucinations from a grade 2 concussion, or finding a tiny man in her bag?
Rose blinked.
There's still a tiny man in my bag.
In a far away reality, she hears the muffled voice of Hank asking if she's sure she's alright. 
Rose hurriedly gathers up her bag at his approach.
“I’m good. Totally good. I… I uh… gotta go.”
_   _   _
Those few stuttered words were all the warning Tamius had before he was flung backwards as the bag was torn from the ground. 
A plan- he needed a plan. Anything- 
Instead, Tamius was met by sheer chaos. His word topples over itself, rising and falling and sending him careening into the wall of fabric. A horrible realization dawns on him.
She’s running. 
Dread seemed to be the only thing anchoring him to reality as Tamius remained a victim to gravity’s indecisiveness. 
He’d been caught. 
That behemoth idiot had fucking caught him- Tamius grit his teeth.
No. Not yet. 
White knuckled, Tamuis clung to the fabric of the bag. His eyes desperately scanning in the low light for the hole he’d cut.  If he could make it back into the larger compartment he could buy himself some time taking cover in her clothes- there’d be an opportunity for escape. He was sure there would be. He’d make one.
In a mix of determination and desperation, Tamius fights against the rhythmic lurching, an awful feeling of vertigo boring down on him as his hands scramble for new grips, something- anything- to pull him closer to that fucking hole. 
A lock clicked. 
The sound slicing through him-  an executioner's bell condemning him to his fate.  
No, no, no- not yet! 
The stillness that followed was truly terrifying, a contagious beast freezing him, and time itself, in place. Reality itself seemed to hold a change, like the feeling before a storm- his muscles tense, and hair standing on its end, as if current was running through him. It was an electric sort of dread- a missed step, an object about to fall, the moment before impact- 
No.
The impact came in the form of five grotesquely large fingers diving into the pocket, looking far more like a Hellish mass of writhing limbs than the hands he was familiar with.
Every ounce of his being screamed- all thoughts coalescing to one;
Get to the rip.
In that moment, Tamius was not a man. He was not a being of higher intelligence. In that moment he felt no soul, no empathy, no love. He was a desperate animal scrambling towards a corner. There was no safety waiting for him just beyond the rip. All that waited behind the fabric were a few extra tortured seconds of delusion. A few painful moments where he could pretend he could reason his way out of this and avoid the reality barreling down on him in the form of five gruesome fingers. 
Though reality, it seemed, had other plans.
That gargantuan fucking idiot. 
The fingers coiled around him, engulfing Tamius in their impossible mass. His heart pounded wildly in his chest, echoed by that of the flesh pulsing around him- the feeling so deeply sickening he could taste bile on his tongue. Tamuis’ stomach lurches as he’s dragged out, hands grasping pointlessly for anything as he's brought forth in front of a sickeningly familiar face.  
He wanted to scream. He wanted to fight back. He wanted to kick, and bite and scratch until she had to let him go. He wanted so desperately to be the cause of even the smallest amount of pain. Anything to wipe that ridiculous awestruck stare off of her stupid face. Anything to pretend like there was something he could do to change the outcome.
But Tamius The Bestoyed,  was a man far too smart for his own good. Cursed with reason, he was granted no security in ignorance. Pride was reserved for those who could delude themselves into believing they were in control. Much to his horror, Tamius knew better. 
He’d been caught. 
Trapped in the fist of a colossus, Tamius swallowed his pride. Tamius was a man of intellect and reason. So he did what any man with intellect and reason would do. 
He begged. 
“Please.” His voice shook, thick with fear and desperation as garbled pleas spilled forth like a river in spring. The knowledge he so prided himself with failed him, his words a stunted mess of gasping pleases and begging to be let go. 
Her brow furrows. 
“Pl-please.” Despite himself, Tamius uselessly strained against her fingers, wracking his brain anything he could say. Her eyes, wide and gray, were locked onto him. 
Gray. 
Gray like foreboding skies. Gray like- 
She sucks in a breath, her eyes widening as some sort of thought passes through the near impenetrable density of her gargantuanly thick skull. For a moment, her mouth hangs agape- a look of confusion crossing her face as she takes her time forming a thought. 
“... Why are you crying?” 
Of all the things she could have said, Tamius had not been anticipating this.
What?
As if experiencing sympathy stupidity, his own mind goes blank, struggling to keep pace with her words. Was he? His face felt wet. 
Wait- what did she mean why? How stupid could she be- As if she wasn’t obviously the reason!  
Tamius wants to say something, but calling out her oblivious stupidity was out of the question. Before he’s able to gather his words, her hand opens up. No longer restrained in her grip, Tamius, completely and totally dumbstruck, finds himself sitting splayed out in her much too warm cupped hand. 
He’s hit with an onslaught of thoughts, as he rapidly begins reformulating any semblance of a plan.
Could he jump? Run? Where was he? Could he fit under the door? How would he get home-   
“Did I …” His thoughts are immediately silenced as she addresses him again, “... hurt you?” 
Her words catch him off guard, but not nearly as much as her expression. Concern. Embarrassment? She seemed horrified at the thought, her grey eyes scrutinizing him for any sign of injury in a way that bordered on violating. 
Too close- too much. 
Unable to find his voice, Tamius shakes his head, scrambling back as much as the limited surface of her hands would allow. The massive, and now that he had the chance to get a good look at her, very sweaty woman eyed him curiously. She thinks for a moment, brow furrowed as the act of thinking clearly was not something in which she was well practiced.
“How did you get so small?”
What? Get? 
His own expression mirrors hers, brow furrowing as realization dawns on him. 
This idiot Gargo thinks I’ve shrunk… 
If he wasn’t so terrified he would have scoffed. It would be his luck that he managed to have encountered the most gullible specimen of humanity imaginable. As if people just go around shrinking- wait. 
People.
She thinks I’m human.
His hands rush to his ears, relief washing over him as he feels his hair, mussed just enough from this whole ordeal to have covered their not quite human shape. This… this could work. Despite the way his hands shook, despite the way his heart pounded in his chest, despite the way this was far beyond the bounds of a worst case scenario, a wry smile tugged at the corners of his lips. 
What an idiot.
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leonsliga · 2 days
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Leon Goretzka for Sports Illustrated Deutschland
-> In this Sports Illustrated interview, Leon discusses not being called up to the national team, his character, and handling high pressure situations. The new Adidas Bodycare brand ambassador also discusses his hopes for the future.
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On the pitch you show strength, off the pitch you are known for your social commitment. How is it that you are so present and outspoken?
That has envolved over the course of my life, but the sense of justice has always been within me. The only thing that has changed over the course of my career is that I now have a much greater reach and more people hear my opinions.
How difficult is it to fight against adversity? Can something like this be trained or is it something you’re born with?
You have to learn to deal with it. Then you can take a clear stance—or you can just leave it be. Everyone has to decide that for themselves. But I can cope with resistance, even though some of the things that come at me these days are extreme.
How do you deal with pressure and disappointment?
Pressure is something very positive for me. I really like it. It probably helps me in my job too. When it mattered most, I was able to deliver top performances. I like a bit of pre-match jitters. That's why I'm not afraid of pressure. Disappointments are also part of it. You learn that very early on, especially in football. Losing games starts in training. But that’s why you play in a team; that's the beauty of team sports—that you can support each other. Like at FC Bayern this season, which wasn't quite as successful as we had expected and were used to. These are experiences that you can take with you and mature from.
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Did it hurt you a lot not to be called up for the national team?
It was an extreme disappointment for me because I didn’t expect it. Afterwards, I gave myself a day to come to terms with the situation. The day after that, I looked at how I could rectify it. The best way to do that is to perform at your best and accept this new role.
How hopeful are you that you will be at Euro 2024?
Very.
What is your emotional world like? Do you always allow all feelings—even the negative ones?
Everyone has to find out for themselves how they deal with feelings. My recommendation would be to talk about them, but I don't always manage that either. I like to work things out on my own and let the process mature within me. I can draw strength from that.
How do you strike a balance between self-criticism and self-confidence?
Self-criticism and self-confidence are mutually dependent. Telling yourself that you are the best has nothing to do with self-confidence. You are strongest when you also know your weaknesses.
As a leader, do you always have to live up to the sometimes very high expectations?
Yes, that's the job of a footballer. We live in a fast-paced, day-to-day business. You're only ever as good as you were in the last game. In my career in club football, I've won all the major titles that you can win with a big club like FC Bayern. Nevertheless, this season I have experienced what it means to be criticized as a leader. It reminds you that you are obliged to perform week in, week out.
How do you build yourself back up again when things aren't going your way? Do you train even more then?
I don't make my training dependent on situations that I experience week after week. I have long-term training plans. But of course, the motivation to correct things when they go poorly is always there.
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What role do negative fan opinions play? Should they be ignored?
You have to accept these things. Everyone has their own opinion. Of course, it would be nice if things were a bit more civilized, but unfortunately that's not the case. This doesn't just apply to football; it can happen to anyone on social media. It's extremely disappointing. We should think about how this can be regulated. I'm lucky that things don't bother me too much. But there are certainly many users who unfortunately don't get on so well with it.
The football business can be very tough. What do you wish for the future of football, especially for the players?
I don't know if I should give an honest answer to that.
We’re asking for one.
If I'm completely honest, we should stop trying to generate clicks at the expense of the players—both on social media and in reports.
Can football help people and society feel more positive?
The 2006 World Cup showed how football can galvanize our country. Germany's enthusiasm and interest in football are certainly back. As players, we can influence this huge potential if the German national team performs well.
You are an ambassador for Adidas Bodycare. What does "well-being" mean to you?
For me, "well-being" means that I have an awareness of my body. For the balance between strain and relief, but also for regeneration. Ultimately, it’s also about work-life balance.
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fattsexyperson · 20 hours
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as we approach the end of palisade (wow!!) i have a some thoughts that i would like to get hammered out before i start these polls back up
i think this season has three types of characters in it:
PCs. which are thisbe, cori, brnine, phrygian, figure, eclectic, levi, the witch, and whoever jack plays in questlandia, as well as if any new characters like this show up in questlandia
characters controlled primarily by art and jack. general mourning, stargrave elcessor, gentian and his attendants, that cause party that got lost in dust (??? iirc that was basically all jack??), etc. these will be subject to a submission process
NPCs, characters controlled primarily by austin. exenceaster, arbitrage, jesset, gucci, whatever random mech grunt, etc. these will also be subject to a submission process.
now, i think group 2 could reasonably be called either PCs, NPCs, or their own group. personally i dislike grouping them with the PCs as i envision the PCs as the short and easily defined list i provided, but i think other people might really disagree with me on that. im ambivalent between the other two options though, so there's a poll! (at the end of the post)
ive honestly been mulling this over since the season started and haven't formed a strong opinion between being their own things and being NPCs, nor have i kicked my concern that people will be generally disappointed if i call them not-PCs
my main thought for splitting 2 and 3 up is that the gm and the faction game players have different roles in the system, so to some extent their characters have different roles in the story
my main thought for keeping them together is that i don't really want to adjudicate whether characters that get handed off a lot, or even just for key scenes, are type 2 or type 3. this is especially the case for faction game characters that are controlled by sort of, like, table consensus?
so, with that all put of the way
i would LOVE to hear what you think of this. reblogs with your thoughts are heartily encouraged
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dorywhynot · 6 months
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the innkeeper
prints <3
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Shop | Patreon | Instagram
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mikhailoism · 2 years
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💬
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old-lorarri · 1 month
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꒰꒰ ‧₊˚𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 ─ 𝐋𝐍𝟒 ˚₊· ꒱꒱
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─ summary . . . ❨ lando loves your tattoos that was no secret but what he loves even more is new tattoos the require him to help you apply cream to them ❩ ─ pairing . . . ❨ lando norris x fem! tattooed! gf! reader ❩ ─ genre . . . ❨ oneshot ❩  ─ word count . . . ❨ 0.4k ❩  ─ warnings . . . ❨ slight nudity, mention of sex, incorrect tattoo healing process - let me know if I forgot anything ❩  ─ author note . . . ❨ now this isn't the best written fic I have ever done but I have just finished watching ink master season 14 sooo this request stood out to me a lot since I wanna get a couple tattoos soon so enjoy! ❩
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❨ taglist | masterlist ❩
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"Hey babe, do you mind putting some cream on my tat?" Lando had always been fascinated by your tattoos and piercings. More so, your tattoos, the intricate designs that you had etched into your skin, were often what he was caught staring at most of the time. You teased him about none stop because you couldn't understand why he was so interested in them. And in all honesty he didn't know why either.
He always chalked it down to a sheer amount of admiration and shock when hearing that you sat for more than 10 hours for some of your tattoo. All of the pain you endured was definitely worth it cuz you ended up looking even more beautiful than you were before. And earlier in the day you had come home from your final session to complete your full back tattoo.
"Hi baby, sure, lie down and let me work my magic." Lando smiled, looking up from his phone as he lazed on the sofa. Taking off your shirt and unclipping your bra, you lay your stomach on the sofa. The anticipation for Lando to start.
"Okay, you know the drill, baby, film first, then cream." At this point, Lando had done this to enough of your tattoos that you didn't need to say anything; it was your special thing. Come to think of it you couldn't remember a tattoo that Lando didn't help you put cream on while it was healing, it was kinda your special thing.
You hissed as Lando slowly as he peeled the film over the freshly done tattoo before squirting a bunch of cream into her hand and gently applying it to your back. The comfortable silence lay over them like a blanket. To some, this would seem sexual, but to both of you, it was wholesome. The fact that you trusted Lando to look after your body in such an intimate way made his heart melt and to you feeling Lando's hands caress your skin with cream was a source of comfort.
"All done baby" He said as finished up on the rest of your back "Thank you baby, next time I'm thinking of getting a 4 on my hip what do you think?"
"I would fuck you till the sun comes up if you didn't do that, and even if you didn't I would do it anyway"
"Good to know baby"
"Now come here and give me a kiss my inked angel"
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─ requested by . . .
anon ─ Absolutely love your writing!!! Perhaps Lando being infatuated with reader’s tattoos and piercings? He loves them but is also baffled about how many she has and how she sat through them?
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samkerrworshipper · 4 months
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Initiation | Barca Femení x reader
part 1
warnings: insinuations of smut, sexual references, don’t read if you aren’t open to non monogamous relationships lol
you are responsible for your own digital consumption this is not made for anybody below the age of 18!
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When it all had been proposed to you, you’d been shocked.
It was no secret amongst the soccer world that certain clubs had certain initiation customs, it was also no secret that inside a lot of clubs, especially the European ones, there was a lot of sexual fluidity across teammates. You weren’t oblivious, you’d heard the many stories from your national teammates, but when you’d signed with Barca and had two of your teammates approach you to talk about the Barca initiation you’d been shocked.
You were having coffee with Keira and Lucy, the afternoon after you’d signed and finished up all the media that had been required of you for Barca to put up on their social media and website.
You were sipping on your iced latte, whilst trying to finish off the pastry that Lucy had bought you, when they’d popped the question.
“Has anybody talked to you about Barca initiation?”
It was Keira who had piped up, her voice anxious from the other side of the table.
This was your first senior professional team that you were a proper member of, being only 22 you’d played the majority of your junior career with Manchester United, and your senior career had been a lot of bouncing between different teams. You’d never signed a contract that had you dedicated to a club for multiple seasons, so Barca was a big change for you.
“Lucy said that she had to sing a song or something.”
You hadn’t really thought about it much, you’d gone through the singing thing at your English call-up when you were 17.
“Right, but there is a little bit more to it than that.”
You looked up from your croissant, one of your eyebrows raised in questioning at your two older mentors.
“Are you going to tell me what you are talking about or continue to look at me like I’m about to explode?”
Lucy laughs, the anxiety on Keira’s face only becomes more prevalent.
“Okay, so a lot of the professional teams have different rituals that happen at the start of every season, initiation nights.”
You nod along, this isn’t new information to you, but the squint in Keira’s eyes at your obliviousness is enough to tell you that you aren’t catching on to whatever she is saying.
“Keira, can you get to the point?”
You're getting sick of Keira beating around the bush like you are a 10 year old.
“Barca has a night every year, a special night, it’s very important to some of the girls, no phones, no technology, it’s a very personal night, where some things that could be deemed unprofessional occur.”
You are still so lost, and you are certain that it’s being portrayed in your facial expression, is she talking about alcohol? Dancing? Pranks? Hazing?
“Keira, just tell me.”
Your statement is a plea, a plea for Keira to end this whole awkward encounter and just get to the point.
Lucy laughs heartily at the terrified look on Keira’s face, when she realises that Keira is stuck at what to say she takes over the conversation, both of her hands thudding down on the table.
“At the start of every season, we all get together, we have fun, no rules. This is different to your substandard initiation, this night is about connecting, on a different level with your teammates, on a sexual level.”
Your jaw slackens almost immediately, your eyes blinking aimlessly as you take in the last piece of Lucy’s statement.
“Now, that’s not to say that you have to do anything, if you want we can forget I just said that and you don’t have to be apart of that part of the night, it’s completely optional, a lot of the girls chose not to participate, but we just wanted to let you know that it is a option.”
An option.
It’s such odd wording, like it’s just an everyday decision.
“Sorry, I just need a few seconds to process.”
You take your time, taking a deep gulp of your coffee and a big bite of your croissant before you look back up at your teammates.
“Can I have a bit more of an explanation? I just want to understand this a little bit better.”
Lucy nods her head eagerly, a big smirk covering her face.
It’s such a taboo conversation to have at a fucking cafe, over breakfast, but neither of the other women seem very bothered by it.
“It’s a free for all, a survey is given out every year beforehand, things you are and aren’t open to engaging in. It’s separate to the other initiation, that happens during pre-season. This is different, It’s all very consensual, and if you choose to participate then you're limited on alcohol consumption, for safety reasons. It’s a lot of fun, a lot of pleasure and exploring. Alexia's been organising it for a few years now, so it’s a very secure process. It’s kind of seen as a final hoorah before pre-season and training starts. Normally they book out a suite at a hotel somewhere, but some years it’s been done at teammates' houses or airbnbs.”
You nod your head, it’s a very interesting concept, one that you are completely shocked by. Sure, you’ve heard about sexual innuendo amongst groups of players in clubs, but this is a completely different level. It’s uncharted territory for you, you definitely aren’t any form of prude or innocent type. You enjoy sex, you’re experienced enough to know that you are good at it. But you’ve never experienced anything near what this is.
“You’ve both been a part of it?”
Lucy nods definitively and Keira nods almost ashamedly.
“You’re okay with your partner being with other people?”
It might be an over step, but you figure this whole conversation is an over step.
“It’s not like that. I speak for both myself and Keira when I say that we both like to see each other having fun, that’s what this is. It’s a night of fun, and it’s with people that we both trust and spend every day with, there isn’t any worries about jealousy. There are a lot of the girls on the team that are in relationships, Ingrid and Mapi are together and they participate, Jenni and Alexia, Caro and Marta, there are also people in relationships outside of the team, it’s all consensual amongst both partners.”
You nod your head, it’s not like it matters to you, your not in a relationship, but it does make you feel a little bit better about the whole interaction.
“Sorry-I’m asking a lot of questions.”
Lucy just smiles and shakes her head.
“Don’t worry about it, I had plenty of questions to ask and I didn’t have a national teammate to ask about it. Ask away, it’s better to ask now then wonder later.”
You nod your head, you are still so shocked by this whole encounter.
“I-What happens at this night?”
It’s a broad question, and you almost palm yourself in the head for asking it.
“I seriously don’t need to give you the birds and bees talk do I?”
Lucy is jesting you, so you roll your eyes, pivoting to Keira with a genuine look of curiosity.
“It differs each year, depending on what people want to do. Toys, kinks, bondage, anything really. If you want to do something, someone is probably likely to want to oblige you. For example, last year, Luce put down that she liked to watch me service other people, and I got the opportunity to do that.”
Keira is stuttering over her words, it’s kind of cute, especially when you catch the glance that Lucy throws at her.
“This is the only time it happens every year.”
Keira cocks her head, looking at Lucy for some kind of permission before shaking her head.
“Not quite, there are agreements between some of the girls, on trips and things often happen but that’s more private, this is common knowledge amongst the team. Although, if you enjoy yourself there is a more than likely chance that more opportunities will come up, if you catch my drift.”
Keira is like your older sister, so sitting down and talking to her about sex has never been something that has ever crossed your mind remotely, but you are kind of glad that it is Kei that you are talking to. Because Keira doesn’t joke around the same as the others do, she wouldn’t make fun of you about something like this, nor would Lucy consider she’s Keira’s codependent.
“So, correct me if I’m wrong, and I'm going to be blunt about this. Every year, before the season starts, the Barca women have a massive sex free for all that’s disguised as an initiation party.”
Keira hesitantly nods, but not before she can correct you a little bit.
“It’s not disguised as an initiation party, there will be other new signings there, Ona, who you would know from United, and a few other girls. I can promise you that the newbies get the most attention, if that’s something you want, of course, there is absolutely no pressure for you to participate, this is about you doing as little or as much as you’d like.”
You take a few minutes of silence, whilst you toss up all of the words that have been spoken in the conversation between you and the couple.
It’s a lot to think about, and the thought is massively daunting.
Especially considering that you are going to be walking into a room full of women that you’ve hardly talked to. You’ve met Alexia, she dropped in to meet you when you were going through the process of your signing, but it had been a fairly rushed interaction and you’d been too busy being in awe of her to even think about anything besides the fact that in a few months time you’d be playing on the field beside her.
“If I said I wanted to?”
Lucy broke out into a fit of giggles, a big smile breaking out across her face.
“I’ll text la capitana, she’ll text you any details, you’ll probably get a visit or a phone call confirming your interest.”
You were still a little bit shocked, this whole conversation felt like it had been a dream, so much so that you’d had to reach down to your thigh and pinch it to confirm that this was in fact your life.
“That’s it?”
Lucy smirked and nodded, reaching over to pat you on the shoulder.
“You aren’t signing yourself off to the devil, Ale will be in contact, if you have any questions you’ll see Kei and I everyday leading up to it, and if you want to pull out at any stage that’s completely fine, no hard feelings, no judgement.”
You nodded your head, unable to do much more than that.
“It’s as easy as that?”
Lucy nods her head.
“Easy as that.”
It’s two days later, when you are properly acquainted with your captain.
You are sitting at your kitchen counter, finalising some university work that you are trying to get ahead of when you are rudely interrupted by the sound of a light knocking at your door.
You close your laptop, and turn down the volume of the playlist you have playing across your speakers, before you jog to the door of your apartment.
The last thing you expect to be faced with, is the face of your newest captain.
“Hola, Capitana.”
You don’t really know what else to say, you’ve had zero warning about this sudden visit, and whilst you are honoured, it’s also a little bit daunting having one of the best players the game has standing right in front of you.
“Lo siento, puedo pasar?” Sorry, may I come in?
You are nowhere near fluent in Spanish, Lucy had been giving you crash courses over the past few months once she’d found out about your signing, you had managed to get a cusp of basic conversational talk, the club had told you that once season commenced you’d be assigned a spanish teacher and a translator, so you hadn’t been super worried about it.
“Please, make yourself comfortable, would you like something to drink? I’ve got water, juice, coffee, tea?”
You list off everything that you can think of, as you open the door fully to Alexia.
“Just water should be fine.”
You are slightly shocked by the Spaniards' flawless pronunciation over her English, and also extremely relieved that you aren’t going to be forced to try and understand Spanish, because it certainly isn’t a skill you’ve even begun to master.
Alexia takes a spot sitting at your island bench, directly beside your uni work that had been the previous centre of your attention, which is now being completely occupied by your Catalan company.
“Here you go.”
You pass the glass over to Alexia, electing to stay positioned on the opposite side of the counter, instead of sitting down beside her. It feels less confrontational, more conversational and less one on one.
“Gracias, I’m sorry for dropping in without any warning, I was in the area and I figured it was best to discuss this all with you in person, I won’t be here long, I don’t want to disturb anything.”
You smiled at Alexia, shaking your head at her.
“It’s no trouble at all, I was just getting ahead of some course work, what can I do for you, Capitana?”
Alexia gives you a wry smile, reaching for her handbag which she’d set down on the floor.
“Please call me Alexia or Ale, none of the formality is necessary.”
You nod at her, Ale, it sounds nice coming off of your tongue, it makes you feel a little bit less terrified of the woman.
“Okay Ale, what can I do for you?”
Alexia smiles at you, a genuine smile that somehow warms your soul, it’s like magic, and you give yourself a mental note to ask Lucy about the effect later on.
“I’m just here to talk to you about our initiation night on Friday, Lucia tells me that you are keen to join in, si?”
You nod your head cautiously, it’s impossible to miss the little dimple in Alexia’s cheek as she licks her lips and smirks at you.
“Perfecta, I can assure you that you will have a lot of fun. Has Lucia talked to you about it, or would you like me to give you a bit of a debrief?”
Technically, Lucy has given you the debrief, but you are curious to learn more and see if Alexia has anything else to add.
“Lucy talked about it, but it was pretty brief and non-specific.”
Alexia nods, and gently pushes a sheet of paper across the table to you, one look at the words across the sheet had your eyes nearly bulging out of your eye sockets.
“On the left, you’ll see a list of girls' names, those are the girls from the team that are choosing to participate. Some just come to watch, others come to please, others come for pleasure. Everything that happens on the night is exclusive to the team, and if talked about outside of the team there are consequences. On the right you’ll see a list of common things that occur. I'll send out a survey to you later, the majority of those things will be on the list, you do not have to engage in anything that makes you uncomfortable, there is absolutely no pressure for you to do anything. Please understand that.”
You nod dutifully at Alexia, your eyes scanning the page and taking in the amount of names as well as different sexual acts and activities.
“We’ve rented out a house, it’s on private land, nice and spacious, lots of privacy. I’m sure Keira and Lucia will take you along with them, you can be as included as you wish, we take care of newbies, anything you want you’ll get, just don’t be shy to ask for it, okay?”
You nod sheepishly at Alexia. This conversation would make you uncomfortable normally, but talking about it with ‘La Reina’ like the two of you are discussing the weather is perplexing.
“Don’t stress about it, cariño, you’ll be well looked after, you are well sought after amongst the group, I’m sure that you’ll be very popular if you desire so. If not, I’m always happy to look after our newest additions.”
Alexia sends you a sardonic smile, sweet and sultry, full of teeth and a chunk of her plump pink lip caught in her teeth.
You think that Alexia can sense that you are stuck on what to say to her, a little bit star struck and still trying to process the words that have just left her mouth.
“Well, unless you have any other questions I'll see myself out, I’ll see you in a couple of days, adios.”
Alexia is up and out of your kitchen in a matter of seconds, barrelling towards the door, your body following hers and managing to speak out just as her hand connects with the brass of your door knob.
“Alexia, thank you for coming around, I really appreciate it, just one last question if you have a second?”
Alexia pivots on her heel, turning around to face you fully.
“Ask away.”
You nod your head, working up the confidence inside of you to ask the question.
“What should I expect?”
You are well aware that it’s a broad question, and you don’t know what kind of answer you are going to receive, but there is a part of your gut that’s just begging for more information, for something.
“You really want a spoiler?”
You nod your head definitively, you aren’t a person who enjoys surprises, you like to know what to expect, what’s happening. You’ve been this way since you were a child, and it’s followed you up until now.
“It’s an atmospheric experience, the feeling, the endorphins. There is nothing that matches being in a room full of people full of desire, nothing like being in a room full of women reaching levels of pleasure they never even imagined. I don’t know what else to say, it’s an out of body experience, there is a reason why it is so sacred amongst our team, as a newbie it’s daunting, I know it’s hard to believe but I was once in your position as well, and the best chunk of advice I can give you is to just let go, let yourself live in the moment whilst you are there, nobody is going to judge you, take a leap of faith, okay? I’ll see you in a couple of days, text me if you have any more questions or if you think I’ve left anything out, even if you just want to chat I’m here, take a read from the list I gave you, it should provide some insight.”
Alexia’s words resonate with you for days to come, the way she talked about the whole situation like it was gospel, her words making it seem like a holy sacrament. You study the sheet she’s given you as if it is the holy bible and you are trying to learn your scriptures.
14 women.
15 including yourself.
That’s a lot of people, and yet as you read over the names it seems nowhere near as magnitudinal as it sounds.
The list of kinks and situations is a source of a lot of your late night self explorations.
You’ve experimented with a lot of things over the years, but some of the things on the list have you weak at the knees just reading them. When your receive the email from Alexia it takes you a whole day to work up the courage to open up the attachments. The first one, as previously discussed is a survey. It has all of the things from the sheet Alexia gave you, plus a surplus of other things, and then some more questions to be personally filled in. It’s near impossible to work through it, it takes far longer than you think it should, but by the end of it you are left with a warm feeling in the bottom of your stomach, anticipation, shock at what you are looking at.
There are four boxes for each topic, yes, no, maybe. And below every maybe box there is a little text box which reads ‘please specify’.
It’s well organised, and you have a feeling that Alexia will have put a lot of time into it, from the very short amount of time that you’ve grown to know her you’re under the impression that she takes her role of captain very seriously.
Fingering? yes. Vaginal pentration? yes. Spanking? yes. Bondage? maybe - no ropes or handcuffs. Oral receiving? yes. Oral giving? yes. Use of toys? yes. Double penetration? yes. Anal? maybe - only experimented but open to trying. Sensory deprivation? maybe - no gags. Humiliation? no. Sex with multiple people? yes. Orgasm denial/control? yes. Sex with a couple? yes. Praise? yes. Degradation? yes. Choking/breath play? no. Dominant? no. Switch? maybe - most likely not. Submissive? yes.
The list goes on, it covers every single thing you’ve ever done and then more, it makes you quiver in the depths of your core, just with anticipation.
Once you’ve finished the yes no part of the survey and answered the questions down the bottom you move onto the other attachment, which from a quick skim over outlines the rules, expectations and details of the night.
The main things that cathc your eyes are the sentences relating to safe words and consent. It seems important so you pay extra attention to it. It talks about the traffic light system, that once you consent to the night it is your responsibility to use your words, there will be regular check ins but unless you use your safe word there is no expectation for anything to stop.
Some other topics that catch your eyes are details about time, place, clothes, etcetera.
The majority of it is just information that Lucy and Keira had already outlined to you, the newbie run down.
Three days later, and you are slowly getting ready for your night to come.
Over the past 72 hours there has been one thing on your mind, tonight. You aren’t spared a minute from your thoughts and when Keira and Lucy walk through your front door, running an hour late you are buzzing. You are well aware of the fact that you look like a 8 year old who has just skulled a bottle of cola, every single extremity connected to your body shaking wildly.
You were lost on what to wear, and it had taken a long chat with Keira yesterday to convince you that apparently it was nowhere near as big of a deal as you were making it in your head.
You settled for a matching sweat combo, just because you figured it would be coming off anyway. It was paired with one of your nicest pairs of lingerie, a red set which was probably leaning towards a size too small. The set accentuated every single part of your body though, it hugged your curves, made your ass pop and your tits look delectable.
It felt almost criminal to cover it up with a tank top and nike tracksuit and sweater, but you also found comfort in the extra layer of clothing, it feels like a layer of armour.
You’ve been sitting in your apartment, contemplating everything for an hour and a half when Lucy and Kei finally show up.
They walk in without any warning, and it’s certainly a sight for sore eyes.
You aren’t sure when was the last time you’ve seen either of them glowing and looking so smiley, but it’s definitely a moment where you take a mental picture for the future.
They’re both dressed similarly to you, and for once you don’t find yourself guilty for being curious about what hides beneath the couple's clothing.
“Hola.”
Even your words are practically dripping with anxiety, your voice shaky and stuttery.
“Hola amor, you ready to go?”
Lucy looks especially delighted.
Her hair is down, something that you don’t see very often. She’s got a light layer of makeup on that compliments her facial figures without making it look like she’s over done it.
Keira looks similar, her hair is down and curled every so slightly, if you didn’t know her so well you probably wouldn’t have realised but the effort is noted inside your brain. She’s also got a very light layer of makeup on, both women look stunning, perfect together, the picture of love.
It makes you hopeful, hopeful that one day you’ll find somebody that looks at you the way Lucy does at Keira, and vice versa.
“Mhm.”
You don’t get up from the couch, all of a sudden you feel unable to move.
Keira recognises it fairly quickly, taking a seat down next to you, her hand falling on top of your knee and squeezing lightly.
“Everything alright, little one?”
Keira’s voice is so soft, it makes you feel safe, like you’re at home.
“Just nervous.”
As far as nerves go, you're fairly certain the euros final doesn’t even match this, it’s weird.
“You know that if you want to back out that’s completely fine, nobody is going to make fun of you.”
You shook your head, backing out was the last thing you wanted to do, but it didn’t make everything else less daunting.
“M’ fine, just need a sec.”
Keira’s hand slowly moves up from your knee, to your thigh, her grip becoming a little bit lighter.
“I can think of a way to calm some of those nerves.”
Keira’s voice is unusually confident, and it surprises you greatly when she reaches down to your chin and pulls it upwards so you’re looking at her.
It’s just then that you realise exactly how close the two of your faces are, so close that you can feel Keira’s breath on your face. It’s warm and it tickles against your skin in a way that you’ve never felt before. She’s smiling at you, but there is a deeper connection through her eyes, the way she's looking at you makes you feel like you are the only person in the world.
“Luce?”
You’re well aware of what this whole night ensues, but it doesn’t settle the slight niggle in your gut that you definitely do not want to be reading this situation wrong.
“Yes, honey?”
Keira’s eyes don’t waiver from your own, even as yours look across the room to look at Lucy, who is giving you a similar look to Keira, somewhat predatory in the best way possible. Her voice is practically dripping with confidence, doused in assertiveness.
You look between the both of them, realising that there is definitely no push back from either of them.
“Please tell me I’m not reading this wrong.”
Keira silences you by pressing her lips to your own, you freeze up for a few seconds, your mouth completely unmoving as you realise this really is happening, that for the last week you haven’t been walking around in some kind of weird dream that’s been created because of some weird delusion in your head.
After a few seconds, you relax into the kiss, moving your own lips against Keira’s and savouring the flavour of strawberry gum and coffee that is fresh on her lips. It tastes how Keira feels, warm and content and it calms down any of the previous nerves that were occupying your stomach, the shaking across your whole body as Keira’s hand on your jaw gently caresses the skin with the pads of her fingertips.
After a few more seconds of Keira sucking and biting at your lips she retracts herself, a big smile on her face as she continues to stare at you.
“Luce you need to try, she tastes divine.”
The compliment makes you blush more than you were already, the redness spreading down to your neck as you feel the couple's eyes on you.
“All in due time Kei, we don’t want to overwhelm her, now I think it’s about time we get a move on, hm?”
You nod subconsciously, your brain still floating on a different planet as you compartmentalise exactly what just happened. All you can think about is how Keira’s lips felt, addictively soft and supple, it’s a feeling that you are certain you won’t forget.
“God you’ve gone and broken her Kei, already?”
The feeling of Keira squeezing your knee once again manages to awaken you from your trance, your eyes darting between the couple cautiously.
“You ready to go, honey?”
Keira’s voice is as soft as her lips, you're so effortlessly enraptured by her that it makes you more than a little bit excited for whatever is to come.
You’ve never seen Keira look this carefree, this cheeky and it makes you feel so much more at peace then you had previously.
You allow Keira to guide you out of your own apartment, your brain still working at a snail's pace so before you even realise you are sitting in the backseat of Lucy’s very nice mercedes. Instead of sitting in the front beside Lucy, Keira has elected to sit in the backseat with you, her body pressed up against your own and her hand resting comfortably on the inside of your knee.
Your knee is bouncing up and down under Keira’s hand, and before you can say anything, her hand is moving up to your chin and rotating it to meet her lips.
This time the kiss is more motivated, more purposeful but sweet all the same.
You give Keira control, your lips practically melting into hers as her hand tangles into the back of your head, tugging at the tresses of hair at the nape of your neck.
It feels so good, so good that you part your lips to moan, instead your sounds are silenced though by Keira’s tongue.
Keira kisses with passion and fervour, it’s quite shocking based off of her personality and all the times you’ve seen her around Lucy, but it makes you giddy on the inside all the same.
“Keira, behave.”
The words come when Keira’s spare hand comes up to your covered breast, you don’t even really notice until you see Lucy looking directly at Keira in the rearview mirror and the look on her face is a mixture of displeasure and humour.
“You're just mad that I got her first.”
Keira’s hand doesn’t move, and it’s fairly clear that Lucy isn’t pleased about it.
“You keep talking like that to me and you won’t like how the night goes for you.”
Keira’s hand quickly moves down from your breast but she doesn’t remove it completely, instead moving it down to your lap again, but her kisses don’t stop, she litters little kisses all over your jaw and neck, all whilst you maintain the eye contact with Lucy in the rearview.
She’s smirking, her eyes don’t leave yours unless they go back to the road, and even when they don’t you keep your eyes on her.
Keira is only egged on by the little sounds and moans that leave your mouth as she finds different spots across your neck and face that make you melt even further into her.
“How does she feel honey? Is she getting you warmed up?”
Lucy’s words are directed towards you, it takes a few seconds for your brain to wrap it’s way around them but once you do you reply quickly.
“Feels good, m’ sorry.”
Lucy’s eyebrows furrow, and when the next red light comes she turns around completely to look at you.
“What do you have to be sorry for?”
Lucy voice is more questioning than accusatory.
“Sorry for getting Kei in trouble and kissing her without your permission.”
Lucy scoffs and Keira snorts from her spot on your neck.
“Oh honey, not your fault that Kei is choosing to be a bit bratty, these nights always get her quite over zealous, as far as kissing her you’ve got my full permission, you don’t need to ask.”
You nod cautiously, moaning as Keira begins to suck a mark right into the pulse point on your neck.
“Kei, behave yourself, you know what Ale said about not getting over excited.”
It’s the mention of Alexia’s name that has your ears perking up.
It seems to get Keira to back off a bit, her lips at least, her hand continues to rub gently at the inside of your knee and thigh and you slowly drive down a dark and windy road.
“Y’know you're all Kei’s been talking about all week, she’s been very excited for tonight.”
You look over at the older English woman, feeling a little bit confident when you notice that Keira is blushing wildly and avoiding your eye contact completely.
“Lucee.”
Keira is clearly embarrassed, which must mean that what Lucy is saying has come truth, which means that Keira has been thinking about you.
“All she’s been talking about, I can say the same about quite a lot of the girls, you are a popular topic.”
It makes you feel all giddy in your stomach with the acknowledgment from Lucy, she’s the last person that would lie to you, so it makes you feel especially good.
Keira groans and hides her head against the window.
“Really?”
Lucy scoffs once again at the shock in your voice.
“Trust me honey, pretty sure there will be girls queuing up for you, us oldies don’t get that kind of attention.”
Keira rolls her eyes, which is enough of an answer for you to realise that Lucy is trying to be humble.
It’s just as you’re about to say something that the car pulls into a driveway, which is already full of cars.
Alexia is right, it’s the only light that you’ve seen for miles, there is nobody for miles, which is a big comfort.
Lucy opens your door for you, helping you out and immediately beginning to assess your neck.
Once she’s certain that there are no marks she moves her vision up to your face, reaching down for a quick kiss.
It’s different to Keira, rougher, her lips more coarse.
It still feels equally as good.
Lucy releases fairly quickly, Keira’s already walking up the stairs to the house, an extra pep in her step as she makes it to the door.
Lucy and you are quick to follow her.
The door has a keypad on it, Keira quickly punches in a four digit code before the door pops open. The entry hallway is completely empty and silent, all three of you toe off your shoes and leave them and your socks by the door.
Lucy leads towards the door at the end of the entry way, you loiter behind, completely terrified of whatever is going to be behind it.
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halemerry · 9 months
Text
I’m doing it. I’m breaking down the Scene. You know the one. I've been tearing it apart for a week straight now in discord and figured I should leave my observations here. So, uh, yeah, this one's a big one so buckle up folks!
I want to start with the build up because I can never leave well enough alone and because I think the framing we have coming into this sequence is important. We start with the camera on Mr. Acts of Service himself. Crowley, after banishing Muriel, starts cleaning up the bookshop. The music playing is the soft slow rendition of the opening theme. He is returning this space to the status quo, resetting back to normal, fully intending to do this for Aziraphale before dragging him out to the Ritz, falling back on their typical pattern of going out together for food and drink.
Now in a moment he's going to get interrupted by Nina and Maggie but before we get there I want to take a second to draw attention to the area of the bookshop that Crowley will be operating in for the bulk of this. This space is one we very frequently see Aziraphale in. It's his desk behind the till - a spot linked intrinsically to him, even down to the fact that it's located on the east side of the shop. The windows are throwing beams of light onto Aziraphale's chair and onto the same spot Crowley will stand during The Scene. This lighting choice will not change from now until our last shots in the bookshop and the way the blocking plays around these sunbeams is very aware (as Good Omens nearly always is) of exactly where they will land.
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Nina and Maggie enter the scene to have a chat about boundaries and communication. Maggie, his own mirror, tells him flat out that he can't play with their lives like that. Maggie and Nina then both tell him that he and Aziraphale need to talk. And I don’t think they're wrong, exactly, but I do think that Aziraphale and Crowley are actually a lot better at communicating in general than they are in these following high stakes scenes. But that's some meta for later - for now I want to just focus on the particular way Crowley's been primed for the conversation he and Az are about to have. Nina in particular does something really interesting. She does exactly what we as the audience did when we first saw Nina and Maggie: she mistakenly projects herself onto Crowley. She says he has trust issues because she does and in the process accidentally frames the core of their problem as Crowley needing to allow himself to trust Aziraphale, a thing that he actively already does and has done for quite some time and has been shown to us several times throughout the two seasons.
Now the build up we get for Aziraphale going into this conversation is very small. By which I mean practically non-existent. We start at the end of his conversation with the Metatron who tells him to go tell his friend the good news - which notably does not imply that the news is something that would require Crowley to make a choice - and sends Aziraphale on his way. Now the most crucial thing in this sequence, to me, is the expressions Aziraphale makes when he thinks the Metatron isn't looking at him. While polite and smiley when engaged with him, Az's expression falls as soon as he doesn't have eyes on him. Something is wrong and Aziraphale knows it.
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Aziraphale enters the shop. The doorway is dark and shadowy and he hasn't composed himself yet - though he does give Nina and Maggie a little smile as they leave. Then, as soon as they're not looking at him, but before he approaches Crowley, the tension is back.
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He hesitates, then smiles and approaches Crowley. Crowley, planted dead center in that beam of light from earlier, takes off his glasses and promptly starts nervously rambling. The music cuts off here entirely, giving us nothing to focus on but the noises coming from our lead actors, the background noise from the street, and the ticking of the clock in the background. Aziraphale puts up his hands like he's going to interrupt then lowers them again as Crowley keeps talking, his face shifting into this helpless sort of smitten look.
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Now look at the light and how it hits the bookshelves behind Crowley as he tries to get his confession going. It's in the shape of a wing. Keep an eye on that - when the camera chooses to show us this one wing of light is important.
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Aziraphale then interrupts and there are two things I want to draw attention to here as Aziraphale fumbles for words. First of all is the fact that he glances in the direction of the door (and the Metatron) at least three times as he's struggling to speak.
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Secondly, I want to draw attention to the words Az actually says here. He first echoes the Metatron's earlier statement about good news. He then does not roll into the news itself and instead glances at the door and says the Metatron. He starts rambling about the Metatron to a very confused looking Crowley and evetually talks his way into that the Metatron said something. He then hits a wall again, scrambling to find words and instead of explaining the context of what the Metatron says he lands on Gabriel. His brain latches onto someone obviously on the forefront of both their minds and something vaguely relevant to the news he's about to share. He rambles more about Gabriel's job, glancing once again at the door in the middle of this, still avoiding getting to the actual point or perhaps even synthesizing said point as he goes.
We then cut to what is framed as a flashback. I think it is very notable we only see this as Az is telling it to us. In other words that this is not us witnessing an event happening but us witnessing what Aziraphale is telling Crowley. This sequence is the single scene where the Metatron calls Crowley by name despite actively avoiding it in any real time continuity sequences. He uses it twice here which I think also is the strongest thread in here that tells us that we are seeing what Crowley is being told not necessarily what actually happened.
The instant the idea of restoring Crowley comes up the wing of light behind Crowley loses visibility. Crowley's speechless for a moment so Aziraphale fills the silence, already looking like he wants to cry as he talks about the old days. (I also can't help but to notice that the lights behind Az in this shot look like eyes.) Crowley finally speaks and circles around the beam of light he's been standing in like an object seeking to re-establish a source of gravity. The music cuts back in here with tense drawn out notes.
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Crowley talks about how Hell offered him his place back and he turned them down. Aziraphale in turn presses on ideas that we know he doesn't really believe. It's a echo of the bandstand and uses a lot of the same language of that fight - another fight we know features Aziraphale saying things he knows aren't true. By now, we have seen him multiple times this season express he does not want to go back and make it abundantly clear that the side they have made for themselves is important to him. We see him actively calling angels bad and incompetent, contrary to everything he's telling Crowley here. We see him be the one to repetitively remind Crowley that they are on their side and be the one that always draws attention to that first. Yet here he says Heaven is the side of light to Crowley - who by the way is literally framed in light. The frame is telling us outright that Crowley is already Good as he is, while Az's expressions are telling us he knows Heaven isn't.
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Aziraphale can't tell him that he did not turn down the job and Crowley does another orbit. The music cuts again. This time, he stops with his back to Az, tilts his head upward and decides to ruin me by invoking God.
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Here he is, hearing these awful things that he was sure they had moved on from, hearing these things he has tried for so long and so hard to help them both unlearn. But these sorts of habits and lessons are insidious and he knows that and he himself is even a victim of that himself. I mean, don't get me wrong, he recognizes this is weird, I think, but between his own self worth issues and the stress of the few days they'd had can't work out what exactly is off here. He's confused and lost and just been told, in his mind, that he is not good enough as he is - a thing he has always on some level also believed. Yet he reaches out to the parent that taught him that lesson in the first place for strength and grounds himself with that. He circles back to stand in the beam of light and, with that wing of light finally backlighting him again, he is brave and tries to be enough anyway. He bows his head downward, fully emerging the line of this body in the light and tries again. Because even now, even after that emotional blow, Crowley is an optimist who can't help but to try.
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At first Aziraphale can't figure out quite what is going on here. He squints at Crowley and glances at the door again. Crowley meanwhile keeps continually glancing upward, whether at God or to hold back tears or some combination of both. In most of these shots Crowley bisects the room, creating a dark half to his left and a light half to his right.
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Crowley says he relies on Aziraphale. Even here, even now when he's just hurt him. Because it is the truth. Because Aziraphale makes him feel less alone. Because Aziraphale proves to him that no matter how fucked the system is that there is still good in the world, even if he doesn't always agree with it.
It is only once there is no doubt what Crowley is doing that Aziraphale starts shaking his head in very small quick shakes. He looks panicked even as they both physically draw closer to each other. It's huge not here, not like this energy to me. Aziraphale asks Crowley to come with to help him run Heaven. This is the point where Crowley starts tearing up.
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Crowley then says you can't leave this bookshop, trying to say you can't leave me. Az, nearly in tears himself, says 'oh Crowley. Nothing lasts forever' as a means to convey that the books aren't what is important here. Crowley, naturally, hears 'including us.'
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Crowley looks down again, quietly agrees, and puts on his glasses, covering himself up again. He then wishes Aziraphale good luck and the music starts up again, still tense but sorrowful now. He leaves the light and heads to the door. Az can't help but to call after him. Please wait. And Crowley can't help but to listen. It's worth noting here that even as he rotates toward the north door, the light still gently hits his face. The shots in general are darker though. He's moved away from the light but it still can't help but to touch him.
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"Come with me," says Aziraphale and then after a pause adds "To Heaven." Aziraphale, looking heartbroken, starts one of two 'I' statements he will struggle around in the next few moments. He lands on I need. Which. I want to pause there a moment because holy shit. That is not something they say out loud either. Az looks at him a moment, visibly struggling before he says his dialogue about Crowley not understanding his offer. Like he's said something he didn't mean to and needs to cover it up or like he can't handle the silence after such an honest statement. And on some level he's not wrong there. Because Crowley doesn't understand what Aziraphale is trying to say. But Aziraphale doesn't understand the way Crowley is reading it to course correct either.
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Crowley says that he does understand and that he understands better than Aziraphale does. And he also isn't wrong either, from his perspective. Because he does understand the implications behind the offer theoretically in play here. Because he does know that the position Aziraphale is presenting him is not going to result in the outcome Aziraphale is presenting him with. There are some things you can't undo just like memories slipping through the cracks.
Az says there's nothing more to say, trying to dismiss Crowley despite having been the one to pull him to a stop moments ago. He puts on a fake polite smile for a beat but then his is jaw sets, mouth working as his eyes drop - unable to look Crowley in the eye.
Crowley tells him to listen as the music fades out and points upward. Aziraphale humors this, glancing up a few times before looking frustrated, saying he can't hear anything. The light from the window shines down in his direction without actually touching him. Crowley tells him "That's the point. No nightingales." The shot he's on here is a dark one without even any of the book shops pillars visible in it to brighten the shot.
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Aziraphale looks frozen a moment here and then as Crowley calls him an idiot and says 'we could have been us' his face completely crumbles. He rapidly glances away to hide his face and Crowley moves and reaches to pull him back. They're both distraught. Az is clearly already holding back tears even before Crowley touches him. The angle of this shot frames Aziraphale in the light of the window. For the first time in this whole sequence Aziraphale is in the light, literally being physically pulled into it by Crowley.
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The music swells, playing a similar theme to the one that plays as the Pillars of Creation are formed at the start of the season. They shift back and forth, the camera focusing on Aziraphale's face and hands. His hands move uncertainly, trying to reach out even as he's struggling emotionally. He is visibly shaking but he crucially does not pull away, not even a little.
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His hands settle on Crowley's back, right where his wings would be, and for a brief moment gets taller, like he's allowing himself to lean into the kiss. They press together tightly, their mutual gravity sending them crashing together before they break apart. When they do Aziraphale looks devastated and his eyes move pretty much instantly to look out the window where the Metatron would be.
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Crowley's glasses make him harder to read here, but he looks at Aziraphale like a man awaiting judgement in a trial he knows he's already lost. He's sad too, but as always, is waiting for Aziraphale's reaction. Because he might push continually at he boundaries of them as a unit but he has always let Aziraphale decide where to set them in stone.
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Az fumbles over words here. He gets stuck on "I" here and lets it hang in the air. He then visibly thinks his words over, his expression slowly filling with resolve as he comes to some sort of conclusion. Then, like it's difficult to say, he falls back into old coded language. "I forgive you." A thing he has always said in response to things that he agrees with but cannot or should not allow himself to have.
Crowley sighs and tells him not to bother, refusing to fall into the old pattern that Aziraphale has. He is setting a boundary, for once, and even if it is one born from misunderstanding I am proud of him for being able to. He turns away and leaves. And this is where Az seems most in danger of falling apart. His lips move as Crowley goes, forming the start of a 'no' after him. He draws back from the door and turns his body away from it, physically distancing himself from anything that would feel like following Crowley. Except he can't help himself. With shaking hands he reaches up to touch his lips. He presses in, like he's trying to recreate the pressure and then his jaw works a moment and his expression sets as resolved.
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The Metatron enters through the front door, which is framed in dark lighting. Aziraphale looks panicked and immediately turns his whole body away from him to hide his face while he collects himself.
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He turns around after a beat and the Metatron asks 'how did he take it?' This is an odd question that only sort of half fits the fact that we are meant to believe at this point - that Aziraphale should be obtaining a yes or no from Crowley. It's not asking Crowley's choice at all. It's like the Metatron assumed a different conversation had happened or perhaps that he already knew the answer.
Aziraphale says he took it badly and the Metatron just takes a moment to direct a few casual digs at Crowley. He references him being stubborn and too curious - all the while avoiding the use of this name. At this point Az's eyes are locked out the window in the direction Crowley vanished to. The Metatron asks if he's ready to start despite originally having promised Az time to think over his answer. Aziraphale keeps glancing out the window.
For a moment he cracks, stepping away from the Metatron and back toward the east side of the bookshop. For the only time in this whole sequence he steps right into the sunbeam Crowley started in. It notably never illuminates his face as he mentions the issue of his bookshop (a statement absolutely not about the bookshop).
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The Metatron explains Muriel will take care of it. Aziraphale looks back out the window with the start of an objection.
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The Metatron interrupts him asking if there's anything he needs to take with him. Az's mouth takes a moment to try and form words. He steps out of the light again, starts to object, and then cuts off, eyes back to the window. Then his expression shifts again, settling in another state of resolve before he puts on his falsely polite face and follows the Metatron out.
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As they leave the shop we cut back to Crowley. Crowley, who could've left to go handle his own emotions, did not leave. Instead he planted himself there, nice and noticeable. Like he wanted Aziraphale to see and know that he still has a choice. Like he needs to see Aziraphale make that choice for himself. Like he can't quite bring himself to be the one to close that last door. He stands there, framed by light, and doesn't move until the doors to the elevator to Heaven close behind Aziraphale. He then glances at Nina and Maggie and then gets in the Bentley, which starts playing the song that we now know he knows is supposed to be theirs. He turns off the music and drives away.
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So there's a lot in these sequences and most of it probably won't help us figure out exactly what comes next, but there are definite signs that all is not as it's being presented to us. Whether he's actively lying or not, something is wrong that Aziraphale either can't or won't talk about frankly with Crowley. I suspect, whether it's under stress from a literal threat or because he believes that it is the safest option for them, that Aziraphale is doing all of this to protect Crowley.
There are also all sorts of signals here, especially in the lights, that gesture at the fact their togetherness is a net good. Together they are balanced and stronger for it and likely more in alignment with the Ineffable Plan. And, more importantly than that, that said togetherness is so clearly what they both want. They have loved each other longer than anything alive has ever loved anyone and none of this changes that. They both are saying that in their own ways here, even if those ways are not ones the other is particularly good at picking up and I for one cannot wait to get to see the payoff of them learning how to.
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atomicami · 7 months
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tattoo artist!abby hcs
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modern!abby anderson x fem!reader
✰ content: no outbreak obviously, mentions of needles, tattoos/piercings, vegas living, mentions of anxiety from reader, a bit of homophobia, there are nsfw headcanons so minors and ageless blogs DNI!!, mentions of oral and strap usage (r!receiving), mirror play, scissoring, some picture taking, very inappropriate use of piercings 😀 different sex positions, and i think that’s it but lmk if i missed anything
✰ middle pic creds to @abbystanaccount
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these headcanons are inspired off a pic i saw on twitter the other day that literally had me going feral. like if that isn’t the most tattoo artist!abby coded shit then idk what is. so let’s talk about it!
✰ tattoo artist!abby who’s been addicted to getting tattoos since the day she turned 18 and is so obsessed with the buzzing of the tattoo gun that she decided to dedicate her whole career on it
✰ tattoo artist!abby also canonically has her tongue pierced. you can’t tell me otherwise.
✰ tattoo artist!abby who’s now in her mid 20s and owns a tattoo shop in las vegas, nevada, since the tattoo industry tends to pay pretty well there. what happens in vegas doesn’t always tend to stay there, right?
✰ tattoo artist!abby goes through lots of customers on a day to day basis, and personally she could care less whether they’re sober and just looking for some new ink or drunk with some impulsive decision making after a bottomless margarita from fat tuesday’s because she’s still making that bank regardless.
✰ tattoo artist!abby also keeps a black polaroid camera by her station and has a whole collection of photos hung up on the wall next to her desk. to cherish the moment, she’s always had the tradition to take a picture of her first time clients, along with any celebrities that have visited her shop as well.
✰ tattoo artist!abby who hears the shop’s bell chime and turns to see a group of girls coming their way towards reception for a walk in appointment.
✰ tattoo artist!abby who sees you shyly standing in the middle of your friend group, anxiously waiting while you look around her shop
✰ tattoo artist!abby is told by one of your friends that they’re celebrating their graduation season from UNLV and as a memory together they all wanted to get some cheap $10 matching tattoos that her shop offered to customers.
✰ tattoo artist!abby notices that you’re the only one in your friend group that doesn’t have any tattoos and secretly holds her excitement in when you tell her that it’s your first one, because she would love to be the first person to put some ink on that blank canvas of yours.
✰ tattoo artist!abby starts making stencils for your friend group’s matching tattoos. your friends impulsively chose to do matching tramp stamps and of course you reluctantly agree to do it with them.
✰ tattoo artist!abby who, once it’s your turn, tries to keep her cool when you position yourself on the chair, with your front facing with the front of the chair and your bare lower back peeking out of your low rise jeans to her face.
✰ tattoo artist!abby gently placing the stencil on your lower back and handing you a mirror for you to check and see if the placement looks good.
✰ tattoo artist!abby noticing you start to get anxious once she turns on the tattoo gun, and keeps her free hand placed by your hip, and tells you reassuringly “just squeeze my hand if it hurts or if you need a break, okay?”
✰ tattoo artist!abby praising you throughout the whole tattoo process, saying things like “you’re doing so good for me love, just stay still now…i promise we’re almost done.”
✰ tattoo artist!abby who pulls out her polaroid camera once everyone’s finished and takes a group photo of you with your friends to hang up on her client wall, before pulling you to the side to get a photo of just you with your first tat.
✰ tattoo artist!abby letting your first tattoo be on the house and not letting you pay for it, secretly telling you that it’s a special discount just for you since you’re the prettiest client she’s ever had
✰ tattoo artist!abby who runs into you at the grocery store a week later, and you couldn’t help but check her out in the gym outfit she was wearing: dark gray sweats and a tight black muscle tee that perfectly contoured her broad physique and showed off her arms, letting you see how her inked pieces hugged those defined muscles of hers. and her hands…you also couldn’t help but imagine what her tatted fingers would look like inside your cu—
“hey! long time no see…everything alright with the tattoo so far?”
“hm? oh yeah! the tattoo has been healing perfectly…i’ve been doing the aftercare routine you recommended me to do.”
✰ tattoo artist!abby takes advantage of the moment she has with you right now and asks you out on a date, to which you accept.
✰ tattoo artist!abby who takes you out to a lovely restaurant by the strip, and tells you to order whatever you want because she’s been dying to spoil you since the moment you walked into her shop.
✰ tattoo artist!abby holding you close by her side as you walk down the strip with her. since she’s more familiar with vegas than you are, she knows how the strip can be dangerous at night and wants to keep you safe.
✰ tattoo artist!abby who safely drops you off back to your place in her black jeep wrangler, kissing you on the cheek goodbye with a second date already locked in.
✰ who knew that a second date with tattoo artist!abby would soon progress into something much more than that.
✧*.。✰ ───
✰ tattoo artist!abby who’s now been your girlfriend for almost three years, to which i’m very well aware is equivalent to like a whole decade in wlw relationships but you both are still going strong today.
✰ tattoo artist!abby who manages to expand her tattoo shop, now being a small chain with a few other locations established across las vegas.
✰ tattoo artist!abby loves it when you visit her during your lunch hours, leaving whatever it is that she was doing to any of her other employees to finish so she can spend some time with you
✰ tattoo artist!abby who still has the polaroid she took of you from when you first came into her shop three years ago, placed inside a little red photo frame on her desk right next to her customer photo wall.
✰ tattoo artist!abby who now lives with you, and upgraded her studio apartment to a nice townhouse outside of the strip, since she knows you have a hard time sleeping at night with the overwhelming atmosphere it always carries.
✰ tattoo artist!abby who lets you color her tattoos with markers whenever you get really anxious, since she knows doing that helps you calm down.
✰ tattoo artist!abby who’s done just a few more pieces on you since the start of your relationship with her, but you always tell her to keep the tattoos minimalistic since that is the style you’ve preferred
✰ tattoo artist!abby who takes you out to eat for your three year anniversary at top of the world, a fancy revolving restaurant located inside the stratosphere hotel that has a panoramic view of the entire las vegas strip
✰ tattoo artist!abby who that same night, waits at the right moment for the hourly fountain show to start playing in front of the bellagio so she can get down on one knee and propose to you right there for everyone to see.
✰ tattoo artist!abby who goes all out for the wedding, booking it at a venue not in vegas, but all the way upstate in lake tahoe, so the two of you can get married with a beautiful lakeside view.
✰ tattoo artist!abby who successfully convinces her father to walk you down the aisle at her wedding after your parents found out that you were going to marry her and decided not to come. despite the fact that jerry wasn’t too fond of abby’s tattoo obsession and had wanted her to follow in his footsteps and become a doctor like him, it didn’t stop him from unconditionally loving and supporting his only daughter. and he knew you were the perfect one to give that to her as well.
✰ tattoo artist!abby who doesn’t even let the officiant finish his final statement and wraps an arm around your waist, twirling you around the altar and giving you the most passionate kiss in front of everyone to tie the knot.
✰ but to really tie the knot, after the wedding ceremony you and abby end up tattooing each others first initial onto each others ring fingers inside her shop.
✰ tattoo artist!abby who is so excited to spend the rest of her life married to an amazing and supportive woman like you.
NSFW HCS UNDER THE CUT
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✰ tattoo artist!abby enjoys some good missionary, but then again who doesn’t? she mostly loves doing it to you because she knows you get that sense of protection from her in the bedroom with her prominent, muscular figure towering over yours when she pounds her strap deep inside you.
✰ this one shouldn’t even have to be listed because we all know damn well that tattoo artist!abby eats it for her own pleasure. that woman will eat you out like its her final meal on death row. and with that metal tongue ring of hers rubbing against your clit and teasing your tight entrance, abby’s expert tongue alone will have you cumming into her mouth instantly.
✰ tattoo artist!abby also owns one of those vibrating tongue rings, but she’ll only use that on you after you’ve had AT LEAST three orgasms so you’re super overstimulated for it
✰ tattoo artist!abby definitely makes you look down in between your legs while she fingers you, so you can see how much your wetness is soaking up the healed ink on her fingers while she pumps them in and out of your needy cunt.
✰ tattoo artist!abby also doesn’t care how loud you end up getting while she fucks you, despite how embarrassed you get with startling the neighbors when it happens. if anything she encourages that so they can know how good she’s making you feel.
✰ tattoo artist!abby either uses a completely black strap OR a skin tone colored strap that she had custom made to look like it has tattoos on it, because if she was a dude she would definitely have her dick tatted too idc.
✰ tattoo artist!abby has definitely fucked you in her shop when no one else is around..like can you imagine taking her strap in the same chair that she tattoos her customers?? not to mention she’s got mirrors in that shop and she will definitely make you look at it and watch yourself take her strap like the good slut you are.
✰ in addition, tattoo artist!abby also installed a mirror on the ceiling above the chair. she always tells her customers it’s for them to see their backs better while getting a back piece done but you know damn well she put that in her own shop just for you to watch yourself better the next time she fucks you in that chair again
✰ and we certainly can’t forget about tattoo artist!abby’s iconic polaroid camera…she definitely is one for playing the photographer in the bedroom and keeps loads of nude polaroids of you tucked inside her wallet which are for her eyes only.
✰ tattoo artist!abby LOVES doing reverse cowgirl with you! mainly because she can see your whole back profile perfectly and admire the first piece of ink she put on you every time you ride her strap 🫶🏻
✰ i also feel like it’s not too common for tattoo artist!abby to do this but whenever she feels like doing something different she’ll for sure scissor you too. and it’ll definitely feel good on your end because…well…let’s just say that abby’s tongue isn’t the only part of her body that’s pierced 🫣
✰ and last but not least, tattoo artist!abby is 100% the queen of aftercare. she’ll treat your fucked out self the same way she would with a freshly done tattoo. she’ll draw you a nice warm bath to soothe your muscles, make you drink lots water for hydration, and curl up in the bed with her tatted sleeves wrapped around you as you drift off with her to sleep.
in conclusion, we need to give tattoo artist!abby the attention she deserves 🧎🏻‍♀️thank you for coming to my tedtalk.
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totaly-obsessed · 3 months
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Watch it!
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Kyra Cooney-Cross x reader request
-> Kyra can only keep her relationship a secret for so long...
-> A little shorter
➳ Masterlist
•─────⋅☾ ☽⋅─────•
When Kyra joined you at Arsenal both of you could not have been happier, but while you were already an established part of the team and already made a name for yourself in the WSL after joining Arsenal after two seasons at Chelsea, Kyra was new in the league.
So in a joint decision, you decided to keep your relationship private for now. Not a secret, but private. But it was so funny seeing the girls trying to find out who your girlfriend was, and trying to set Kyra up on a date.
As time went on Kyra’s title of ‘annoying little sister’ was slowly set in stone and it did not make her happy. Why couldn’t she just be Kyra – a good, young footballer who was new to the team?
So then she started to actively hide your relationship – even going as far as to ignore you in training, only talking again when she came home to your shared apartment and it was starting to take a toll on you.
But either Kyra didn’t see it or she just didn’t care – even after you tried to talk about it with her she brushed you off, stating that she was meeting up with Charlie, your joined friend, who has just joined you in London.
Conversations got rarer and frosty dinners more often. You hated this. She had to dislike it too, right? No one would like to sit in a quiet, stuffy, tense room. Not even with their girlfriend.
Before the much dreaded Manchester City game you were faced with a screaming Kyra – who had enough of your complaints, so it was safe to say, that the atmosphere was tense once your girlfriend walked in with Katie and Caitlin.
The couple had picked the brunette up at your home after she had refused to enter your cars and decided to make a scene.
Everybody noticed the difference – Steph and Caitlin had already been confused, the two of you had been such good friends in Australia, and the World Cup camp was filled with giggles as you pranked one Matilda after the other. Even Mini didn’t know what happened and Kyra tended to tell her everything.
The match was brutal and your girlfriend couldn’t help but wince every time you went down after a tackle from the opponent. And while you got up every time, she couldn’t bear to watch, trying to keep herself busy somehow.
It was a 0 – 0 deadlock in the 70th minute when Kyra had been subbed on for Kim, who was still struggling a little after her injury. And just a couple of minutes later her worst nightmare came true.
You went in for a header against Alex Greenwood, but the ball rebounded off of someone’s head – who wasn’t important to the young Australian, as she watched her girlfriend immediately crash to the ground after colliding.
Alex stayed down as well.
Fuck there was a lot of blood.
And before she could even think about it Kyra started to sprint across the pitch, and Steph could have sworn she had never seen her young friend that fast.
“Babe? Are you okay?”
You weren’t – evident by the lack of an answer. She quickly noticed your unconscious state and immediately fell to her knees next to you. Shaky hands pulled down your shirt, trying to keep you safe from the stares of the viewers.
“You’re gonna be okay my love – I promise.”
While your teammates noticed the suddenly very affectionate nicknames, there were more pressing matters at hand, you were still bleeding from your forehead.
The medics took a look at you and quickly decided that getting you on a stretcher and off the field was their best option.
Getting you on that dreaded, bright orange thing was a slow process and the paramedics were as careful as they could but a quiet, painful moan left your lips as your eyes cracked open.
You could hear Kyra crying somewhere in the area around your head, while you could see the other girls by your feet, as you were carried away, every step shaking your whole body, releasing a new wave of pain originating from your head.
But it was going fine, until one of the people that were carrying the stretcher slipped, letting go briefly of his corner, sending you into a tilted position. The pain-filled cry could be heard in the deadly silent stands.
“Watch it you fuck – that’s my girlfriend!”
Heads snapped to Kyra, who didn’t even look away from the guy who let go of you.
“Out of my way.” And just like that your girlfriend took over and Jonas had to look for another person to sub in.
“Don’t think you’ll get away with this young lady!” But Steph’s shout was completely ignored as you left behind a stunned Arsenal team who had just figured out, that you and Kyra did in fact not hate each other.
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wife-of-all-dilfs · 8 months
Text
pretty fixation, wicked temptation | b. blake
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masterlist
summary: season six - one-hundred-and-twenty-five years in cryosleep made both you and bellamy crave each other’s touch, but you need a place to satisfy your urges without disruption. perhaps a new planet would do the trick. and what better way to heighten the anticipation than with a little challenge?
warnings: porn with plot, sexual crying??, teasing/taunting, mild gore, mild exhibitionism, murphy being a cockblock, mild size kink, mild bdsm, begging
note: this is the first one-shot/smut I’ve ever written so I kinda went overboard, but I promise it’s worth it in the end. you can imagine a different season of bellamy if you want (fuck you) but I personally think he’s extremely hot in season 6.
word count: 16.7k
“…I hope your lives there will be as happy as mine has been,” an aged Monty spoke on the monitor. “Be the good guys. May we meet again.”
You stared out the window of Eligius IV in awe, arms crossed over your chest whilst taking in the view of the planet you would soon call home. Plant Alpha. A place where, hopefully, everyone could find redemption. For you, it would be a place where you would find peace with your friends and family. And your boyfriend, Bellamy Blake.
“I know this is a lot to process,” Bellamy’s deep voice spoke to the group. “Take an hour, and then meet in the mess. We need to game this out.”
A few people in the room had a short dispute, but you tuned out their bickering, gaze locked on the view outside. Everyone began to disperse, leaving the room to gather their thoughts about what the future held for the last remnants of humanity. Everyone but you and Bellamy.
Your vision shifted from focusing on Planet Alpha to watching Bellamy walk towards you in the window’s reflection. He had changed drastically since the day you and the other Ark prisoners were sent to the ground. His body was broader, and more muscular due to the unrelenting battles he fought on Earth. His arms were bigger, stronger, and probably capable of carrying the weight of two people at once. And his hands, god, his hands—they were your ultimate weakness. They were much bigger compared to your own; his fingers were thicker and longer as well, and the things he could do with them… indescribable.
He now had a short, dark beard that circled his mouth and sparsely covered the sides of his jaw. You always loved the way it tickled your face whenever he kissed you and when it rubbed against your inner thighs whilst he went down on you.
What had changed the most was his mentality, which somehow made you fall even deeper in love with him. Bellamy Blake may have been twenty-three when you first met him, but he was then still just a boy. Now, he was a man.
“You okay?” he asked, his arm snaking around your waist as his towering frame stood beside you.
Leaning into his body, you both soaked in the rays of the two suns shining through the ship’s window.
“Just hoping we don’t make the same mistakes we did back on Earth,” you spoke. “There are a lot of people on this ship in need of a second chance.”
Bellamy chuckled. “Yeah. More like a fifth chance.”
You smiled, humming in agreement.
“This time will be different,” he continued, eyes narrowed at the planet in front of them. “We can’t keep making the same mistakes without learning from them. We won’t have bombs, or missiles, or war. I’ll make sure of it; if not for the last of humanity, then for you.”
You turned your head to look at him. Such a softie.
“I ever tell you how much I love you?” You reached one of your crossed arms across your torso and rested it on his which was cupping your waist.
In response, Bellamy’s hold tightened just a little bit more, causing your heart to fumble from the affectionate gesture. “On a few occasions.”
However short the one-hundred-and-twenty-five years in cryosleep felt to your mind, your body could feel the effects of lacking physical touch for such a long time. Bellamy’s touch. Apparently, he felt the exact same way.
“I can’t believe I haven’t seen you in over a century.” His voice became soft. He turned your body to face him with his back now facing the window. Dark brown eyes gazed down at you with an intensity only he could create, sending a sudden desire to let him absolutely ravage you right where you stood. His free hand reached up to your face and gently stroked the side of your cheek, the other now caressing the exposed skin of your waist. “Or touched you.”
Closing your eyes, you focused on the areas in which his skin connected with yours. Having been in a relationship with him for a few years, his touch became a familiar sensation. Despite that, on a purely physical level, your body had forgotten the pleasure-filled heights to which he could take you. Everything seemed new again, like the very first time he touched you.
And no matter the fact that time in cryosleep seemed like it passed instantaneously, neither of you could deny the obvious pining your bodies felt for one another.
You stepped closer, hands moving to rest on his chest. The distance between your bodies closed and you whispered, “Or felt me.”
His hands stilled, realising what you had meant. He leaned backwards, enough to get a good view of the look in your eyes. It was something deep and hungry for release. Sure, you’ve both had sex plenty of times; you’ve fucked rough and fast, made love sweet and slow—however many other variations there were, you’d done it—but Bellamy had never seen your desire for him appear as powerful as this.
Your eyes were swirling with a dark passion, like rolling waves in desperate need of a crest. Your cheeks were flushed, pupils so dilated your irises were almost obscured, and lips reddened and becoming plump even despite having made no contact with his own yet. It was no doubt a mirror of what you were feeling inside.
He took in a long deep breath, eyebrows furrowed as he took in your appearance, trying to steady his heartbeat which was raging out of control. You looked so beautiful. All the blood in his body drained to the lower half of him, leaving him light-headed and fuzzy, lust being the only thing to fill the contents of his mind. Bellamy could never stop lusting after you, he had just learned to control it. A one-hundred-year wait seemed like a perfectly acceptable reason to let loose a little.
“Fuck,” was all he said before his lips came crashing down onto yours.
It didn’t start slow, but rather fast and desperate. So desperate. Even so, your mouth moved in sync with his, alternating between sucking in quick breaths of air, kissing his soft yet rough lips, and allowing him to run his tongue over your own. Your hands moved up into his pushed-back hair, fingers delving between his brown waves to give a small tug, pulling a groan from inside him that buzzed against your lips.
He pulled you closer to his body with strong arms wrapped around your back, the sensitivity between your thighs coming into contact with his hardness. The material of your pants rubbing against you only enhanced the shiver-inducing sensation.
You reigned your focus back onto his lips. His mouth was hot against yours, unrelenting, catching your lips with his between each frantic breath of air. His tongue rolled over your own, so intricate and possessive as it pushed into your mouth.
Before you knew it, his hands had moved to the backs of your thighs and lifted you into his arms; your lips never disconnected. This was a movement you had both performed many times, so it wasn’t done without skill. He took a few steps forward before placing you on the control bench behind you. You hoped there were no important buttons beneath you that would cause End of Humanity 4.0.
His mouth moved from yours and down to your jaw, cupping his hand on the side of your neck to keep your head steady. You couldn’t tell if it was a moan or a sigh that escaped you. Maybe it was a mix of both, but whatever it was, it egged him on further. He had moved down to your neck, sucking and nipping at the soft, delicate skin. This time you were sure it was a moan you let out.
He curled his hand around your neck just below your jaw, careful not to apply too much pressure, but just enough to remain in control. He loved to be in control; he also knew how much you enjoyed it too. You loved how small he made you feel compared to him, how he could dominate you without an ounce of effort.
Your legs and his were in between one another like two puzzle pieces fit together, his knee between your thighs and pressing against your clit without him even realising it. Grabbing onto his shoulders for support, you pushed yourself further onto his knee, beginning to grind yourself against him as he continued to press kisses to your neck.
“Eager, huh?” his voice vibrated against your skin.
Now he knew.
Having realised what you were doing, he pushed further onto you, heightening the pressure as you rolled your hips against him. Your head fell back. It had been so long since your body had experienced such pleasure; you knew it wouldn’t take much to reach climax. Not that it mattered. It always took you both a few rounds before you were too exhausted to move anymore. Sometimes, even fatigue couldn’t stop you two.
After deciding enough damage was done to your neck, he returned to your mouth, this time slower and more sensual.
You could have easily come undone the way you were going, grinding yourself against him but knew it would be nothing compared to the release given by his hands. Greedy as you were, you wanted—needed—more, and you knew he would never deny such a request. Your satisfaction was his own after all.
“Bellamy,” you breathed against his lips. “Touch me.”
His forehead came to rest against your own, he too breathless from the heat of the situation.
“Didn’t know you were into exhibitionism, princess,” he spoke lowly with a smirk.
“Who said I was?”
“Well, technically, we have a whole world watching us.”
You rolled your eyes, a playful grin stretching across your lips only to be intersected by a short gasp as you felt his hand slip through the waistband of your pants and press against your clit.
The second you felt his fingers apply pressure and begin to move, the door to the room burst open.
“Hey, you guys need… Jesus Christ!”
Bellamy’s hand left you quicker than it came, or quicker than you came to be more exact. The both of you jumped up from your positions and turned to see Murphy standing at the door, eyes squeezed shut.
“You ever heard of knocking, Murphy,” Bellamy grumbled.
“It’s the fucking comms room!” he complained. “Just–we need you guys out in the mess hall. Now. Oh my god.”
He made quick work of leaving the room, mumbling something about rather having a missile dropped on him than ever having to witness that again.
You looked at Bellamy who seemed to share the same flustered state as you.
He blew out a stabilising breath and placed a hand behind your back. “Come on, we should see what they want.”
Still slightly trembling, you nodded, allowing him to guide the both of you out of the room as you attempted to fix your dishevelled hair. After walking together down a few hallways in tense silence, you both reached the mess hall to see the group sitting around a table, discussing something quietly among themselves. Among them was Murphy, who overdramatically shuddered at the sight of you two.
Before you could walk over, Bellamy grabbed your upper arm, leaning down until his hair brushed against your temple and he whispered, “I’m not done with you.”
He slid past you and walked towards everyone else, acting casual as they all burst into conversation. A minute or two passed until you had regained enough composure to join the group.
**********
It had been about two hours since the incident in the comms room. A plan had been set in place regarding their journey to the ground. One minute, you were safe and sound on Eligius IV, and the next, you and a small group were descending into the atmosphere of Planet Alpha in a ship.
There was a giant, wall-length window on the front of the ship that revealed the outside surroundings once you dipped below the clouds. This world was… otherworldly. Literally. The largest sun bathed the world in a constant orange glow, and the surface was covered in an abundance of vibrant green trees that sat atop various hills and rocky snow-covered mountains. All the clouds were a light orange; the sky was more pink and orange than blue. It was like they had entered a landscape painting depicting heaven.
Everyone seemed to share the same look of astonishment.
Shaw turned in his seat to face everyone. “Boys and girls, meet Planet Alpha.”
With a shudder, the ship finally planted itself on the ground, the machine hum cutting off as the rockets stopped firing. Belt buckles clicked as everybody stood from their seats, moving in front of the door, awaiting its opening. You looked beside you to see Bellamy with that same tiny grin he had the first time they opened the dropship doors. It seemed like a lifetime ago now. Technically, it was well over a lifetime ago.
He pulled down the lever and the door began to fall open. A gust of breathable fresh air wafted in your face and you inhaled deeply. It was sweet and unpolluted. Everyone remained still as they took in the incredible scenery. There were no words to describe it.
“Anyone got anything better than ‘we’re back bitches’?” Miller jested.
“Yeah,” you spoke. “Let’s not bite the apple this time.”
There were a few chuckles, a few sentimental words exchanged, along with a few heated words spoken between Shaw and Clarke. Some people were still upset over her betrayal back on Earth. What they were yet to realise was that this was not Earth, this was someplace new, a place for second chances and new beginnings.
They were supposed to be looking for a beacon that depicted a safe place for them to take up residence. Shaw, along with his tracking device, began heading in the beacon’s direction and soon enough everyone else followed suit.
You took a few moments for yourself to take in the surroundings and silently thank Monty and Harper for their sacrifice. A bittersweet smile sat on your lips and a single tear slipped down your cheek. A Garden of Eden this was, and they’d be damned if they let another serpent in.
Without even realising it, Bellamy had stood beside you, his arm wrapping around your shoulder before pressing a tender kiss to the top of your head.
“We’ll do better this time,” he reassured as if he could read your mind.
You turned your head and pressed a quick kiss to his shoulder.
His eyes crinkled as a soft smile grew on his lips. “Come on, let's catch up to the others.”
And so, you did.
Following Bellamy until you caught up with the rest of the group, you began the journey to the beacon, trekking through the new and undisturbed forest. Though it was beautiful, you still had a lingering fear of what might lurking in the thick clusters of trees. Maybe there were Grounders here too. At least they were human beings with actual consciences. This was an entirely new planet in an entirely new solar system so there could be animals or beings they had never encountered before.
All you could do was pray you weren’t on the bottom of the food chain.
An hour or two passed before the forest began to thin out and give way to a lake of pristine blue water surrounded by overlooking mountains.
“Looks like we found a water source,” Bellamy spoke as they stepped onto the tan sand. “We’ll camp here tonight and continue on at first light.”
They were confronted wave after wave with the planet’s beauty without end. It almost seemed too perfect. As everyone was distracted by the new view, Murphy began walking towards the water, removing a piece of clothing with each step, completely disregarding the fact that he had healing bullet holes on his body.
You stepped forward to stop him just as the others did. “Murphy, wait, your­–”
He glanced back at you, cutting your sentence off. “Comms room!”
That shut you up, as well as causing your face to redden intensely.
Clarke stepped beside you, watching as Murphy took off his shirt and stepped into the water, diving beneath the surface. “What was that about?”
“Uh, nothing.” You side-eyed Bellamy who was shifting his weight, clearly uncomfortable.
Soon enough, Murphy had resurfaced, his wounds bleeding and turning the water around him a faint rust colour. Not that he cared.
“Come on in, the water’s fine!” he shouted.
Emori was next to enter the water, though not entirely at her own will. It was nice to see her and Murphy enjoying themselves, but who said they could have all the fun?
Without a second thought, you unclipped your backpack and dropped it to the ground, tying your hair into a low bun with the band on your wrist. You lifted your long-sleeve shirt over your head, leaving you only in your low-cut tank top. You had thought it would have been Bellamy who was first to notice, except it was Clarke whose eyes were now trained on your chest.
Brows raised, you motioned to your eyes with two fingers. “Eyes up here, Clarke.”
She cleared her throat and mumbled an apology, focusing back on Emori and Murphy.
You walked over to Bellamy, standing beside him as he watched the scene in front of him. His attention quickly shifted to you as your hip brushed against his hand.
“What d’you say, Blake?” You unbuttoned your jeans, pushing them down to your ankles and stepping out. “Up for a swim?”
His lips parted as he stared down at your half-naked figure. Before he had a chance to answer, you were making your way down to the water with a tantalising grin. You were nothing if not a tease and he knew that firsthand. A little extra sway in your hips was all it took for him to start removing his own backpack and undressing his upper body.
The water had reached up to your hips before a pair of hands abruptly grabbed onto your waist. A short shriek escaped your throat before you were tackled beneath the water. Resurfacing, you wiped the water from your eyes, coming face-to-face with an amused Bellamy.
“Asshole!” You attempted to push his chest, but he didn’t budge, instead, he wrapped his arms around your waist again and began dragging you both further out.
“So easily riled up,” he teased with a smirk.
Sighing defeatedly, you leaned into his grasp, allowing him to keep you both afloat. Bellamy could just touch the lake floor, so you knew if he let you go, you would be drowning. Swimming wasn’t exactly anyone’s strong suit, so you just hoped you hadn’t done anything previously to piss him off.
Your legs curled around his torso. At first, the action was innocent, but then you realised that the little performance you made on the beach had consequences. Hard consequences that he seemed to be very aware of. Eyes blown wide with surprise, you squeezed your legs around his hips, grounding yourself onto him.
He grunted softly, tightening his hold on you. “You do that again and I won’t care if everyone is watching.”
The deep sense of possession enveloped in his voice sent warm tingles running down your spine, replacing the coldness of the water surrounding your body. Knowing him, he probably wasn’t lying either, especially given both of your rising desires for each other. For a split second, you were ready to test the legitimacy of his threat, but rationality was quick to jump in.
As you loosened your hold around him, you were unsure whether the look he gave you was of praise or displeasure. If you couldn’t do that, then you would at least take advantage of the opportunity for another type of intimacy.
Placing a hand on either side of his jaw, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his which he was quick to reciprocate. Droplets of fresh water dripped from the wet strands across his forehead, mixing between your skin and his, and alleviating the heat of each other’s desire.
His hands ran up and down your back underneath your saturated tank top, leaving a trail of warmth in his wake. Over and over, you kissed him and then you’d take a split second to get some air. It quickly became a pattern yet each time your lips met became more and more exhilarating.
The moment was rapidly becoming more fervent with each passing second. Soon enough, you were clinging onto each other, the water rippling from your bodies moving ever-so-slightly against one another to create some kind of friction. You could hear Bellamy’s breathing become quick and uneven, just like your own. You could feel his tongue glide across your bottom lip as if to knock before entering. And just before you could let him in, you were pulled apart…
“Hey. Hey! None of that shit,” Murphy demanded from a distance.
Bellamy pulled away first, visibly frustrated as he turned his head to your interrupter.
You simply pinched the bridge of your nose and groaned, one hand still holding onto his shoulder.
“Shut up, Murphy!” you and Bellamy shouted in unison.
Even Emori was quick to come to your aid. “Come on, John, they were just kissing.”
“You haven’t seen the things I’ve seen,” you heard him murmur to her.
**********
The sky was blanketed in darkness long after the two suns dipped below the horizon. Insects were chirping, a small fire was crackling in the centre of the group, and tiny waves were cresting on the shore. You were leaning against a log of driftwood, legs extended in front of you as you gazed at the giant, ringed planet in the sky, its purple and pink hue reflecting on the lake’s surface.
Peace. Or so it would have been if not for the chaos running rampant in your mind.
Bellamy’s lips. Bellamy’s hands. Bellamy’s fingers. Your eyes fluttered shut. Bellamy, Bellamy, Bellamy–
A loud pop from the fire sounded which startled you from your thoughts.
Opening your eyes, you looked around the camp. Everybody else seemed to be in their own little worlds too, unable to shake the incredulity of knowing they were now on an alien planet. Clarke was on her back, gazing up at the foreign sky above; Jackson was enthusing about the unfamiliar wildlife. Echo simply admired the tall mountains that encompassed the lake, an expression of gratitude reflecting on her face. You would feel the same way too if your hormones weren’t raging like that of a teenage boy’s.
To add fuel to the fire—quite literally—Bellamy was bent over the flames, cyan blue sleeves rolled up to his forearms, and feeding more wood to the blaze. His dark curls were pushed back from his face apart from a few stray strands. His skin was shining from the humidity, sending your mind spiralling into a visualisation of the times he was on top of you, all sweaty and hitting that eye-rolling spot inside of you over and over.
You sighed, tucking a loose strand of hair behind your ear. This was ridiculous; he was your boyfriend and yet every time he was near, your body responded to him like a schoolgirl with a crush.
“Something on your mind?”
He had sat down beside you, your shoulders now pushed up against one another.
More like ‘someone’, you thought.
“Nope.” You crossed your legs over one another, thighs squeezing together in the hopes of providing some kind of relief. You couldn’t even bear to look at him, afraid that your willpower would come crumbling to ruins. “No thoughts up here.”
Bellamy eyed your visibly flustered state, one cocky eyebrow raised.
His hand moved onto your leg. “Liar. I know your tells. And this,” he murmured whilst squeezing the inner plush of your thigh, “is one of them.”
Finally, your gaze met his, almost like you were in a standoff. He knew how much you were suffering. Mostly because he was too.
“Bellamy,” you warned.
He turned back to the fire, slowly kneading your inner thigh. “I’ve been thinking…”
“Uh oh.”
The flickering flames reflecting in his dark brown irises turned them a blazing orange but did nothing to alleviate the darkness that was sitting just behind his eyes. Taunting him probably wasn’t the brightest idea at that moment.
Then again, it also held the potential to be a fantastic idea. You knew how he got when pushed to his limits.
“Seems like we can’t go five minutes without being interrupted,” he began, curling his hand around your thigh. “So, I figured we may as well turn it into a challenge.”
“A challenge?” you asked, moving your hand on top of his and taking control.
He nodded.
Slowly, you began to guide his hand further up your thigh, inch by inch. As expected, he showed no resistance. You could even see the imprint on the front of his pants which were now tight for the third time that day. “And what exactly does this challenge involve?”
As you got closer to the destination you craved most, your movements became slower, and more delayed, contrasting to the increasing pace of your chest rising and falling. Your shoulders pushed back against the driftwood, your body reclining just a tiny bit further as you stared up at him, lips parted.
Bellamy watched his hand travel beneath your own, completely transfixed. “We, uh, see who can last longer without…” he trailed off as your thighs clamped tighter around him.
The side of his hand brushed against your clit through the material of your pants and your breath hitched. Thank god everyone else was too distracted to notice the situation unfolding before them. The fire was probably doing you both some favours as well.
“Without…?” you coaxed him on.
You pressed him firmer against you, rolling your hips in small circles to create the sensation you’d been longing for. He didn’t move, only allowing you to use him for your own pleasure. The muscles in your stomach flexed as tingles quickly spread across the lower half of your body, from your toes to beneath Bellamy’s hand. You’d give anything to let him give you your release then and there, but you knew an audience wasn’t exactly favourable.
That didn’t mean you couldn’t enjoy the build-up.
God, Bellamy was right. You really were into exhibitionism.
By the way his brows were pulled together and his eyes looked almost pained, you swore he was about to come undone just at the sight of you.
He clenched his jaw and managed to ground out, “Without touching each other.”
Your eyes flickered between his, showing no sign of stopping your movements even when he finally managed to get out his explanation. You slightly bucked your hips forward, pulling him in further to which he inhaled sharply. Truth be told, Bellamy was the most stubborn person you had ever met, excluding his sister, Octavia. But there was one thing that could overrule Bellamy’s unwavering resolve, and that was you. Hell, on multiple occasions all you had to do was ask and he would be on his knees, mouth between your thighs in the blink of an eye, so he should have known the minute he announced his little game, you had already won.
“Okay,” you whispered with an innocent smile.
Within seconds, you had shot up onto your feet, now hovering over him.
Instinctively, he too moved into a standing position as if under threat. He stood so close that your torso was nearly touching his.
“What are you doing?” He leaned in close, voice low to prevent attracting any attention from the others.
“Um, winning?”
He scoffed. “Yeah, right. I’ve gone over a century without you; I can last a little longer.”
You took one step closer until you were flush against him. How could you not? It’s not like he’d expect you to make it easy on him.
“Only a little? Oh, come on Blake, have a bit of faith in yourself. You can last longer than that.” You looked him up and down. “I would know.”
He peered down at you, eyes half-lidded, and hummed a chuckle, one that was meant to say, ‘You are in way over your head, princess’. Maybe you were or maybe he was. What you both knew for sure was how the game was going to end, and despite your determination to win, that moment couldn’t come soon enough.
His body left yours and he backed away, a smug smirk resting on his face. He retreated over to Murphy and Emori, sitting on the log beside them and began engaging in their conversation.
You turned to face the fire, letting out a shaky breath you were hoping he couldn’t hear. It had become quiet now, the surrounding area seemed different compared to just a few minutes prior, but you couldn’t pinpoint why. The small waves were still rolling onto the shore; the campfire was still crackling.
Something was missing.
You scanned the area for anything out of the ordinary. Nothing.
“Ow!”
Your eyes snapped to the sudden voice. Clarke was sitting on a plank of wood, rubbing the back of her neck with her brows furrowed together.
Walking over, you sat on a log adjacent to her. “What happened?”
“Oh, just got bit by a bug.” She gestured to the dead insect lying on the wood beside her.
It had big, round eyes, and wings like a fly. Wouldn’t have been a cause for concern if it weren’t the size of your palm and had a tail like a scorpion.
“Some bug.”
That’s when you realised—all the insects had stopped chirping.
Almost on command, Jackson and Miller stumbled over to the campfire, gaining everyone’s attention as Jackson rambled on about how he had captured the same bug in a glass jar and its behaviour had randomly become erratic. People began rising from their seats and crowding to watch the insect smash itself against the glass. Clarke and you shared a concerned look.
The air, which once was silent and peaceful, began to buzz like you were all surrounded by a cluster of beehives. Reality was much worse.
“What the hell is that?” Emori spoke.
As if to answer her question, the sky suddenly filled with hundreds, no, thousands of winged insects, which seemed to follow each other in groups that formed large patterns in the air. You were willing to bet your life on them being the same as the one that bit Clarke. Great—man-eating bugs.
“Swarm.”
“Everybody cover up! We’re heading to the beacon now!” Bellamy commanded.
You snatched your backpack from the ground, pulling out a black cotton scarf before slinging the bag straps over your shoulders. Not long passed before the others did the same and you were all running for your lives through the dense thicket of trees. Branches snagged on your clothes, shredding them to bits as you struggled not to run face-first into a tree. You wouldn’t be the first to do it, though…. Murphy.
Your breathing was becoming irregular as your body pushed to its limits. As awful as it sounded, when Emori tripped over a fallen branch and the group had to stop and help her, you praised the lord. Everyone huddled together, the bugs now surrounding the group, flying past and leaving bite marks on your bodies. Luckily, Clarke had the idea to light a flare.
“They hate fire! Light the flares!” she shouted.
Someone came running toward you from where Emori had tripped, placing a hand on each of your upper arms. Upon seeing their eyes, you knew it was Bellamy. He wordlessly scanned your features for any wounds, his gaze a mixture of concentration and worry. You nodded as if to tell him you were alright, and he did the same.
After the ten seconds you were provided to catch your breath passed, you were on the move again, the flares now protecting the group from the swarm. The trees were becoming less and less, and the ground under your feet had turned into a wide gravel path that ended at a large field of crops surrounded by metal rod towers.
You continued running forward, following the others as the field grew closer. In front was Shaw, who was multi-tasking between tracking the beacon on his device and leading the group to safety.
“Here! The beacon’s here!” he shouted.
Just as he passed through the towers that bordered the crop field, a bolt of what looked like lightning struck him. He was sent flying back into the group with a yell, landing at your feet.
“Shaw!” You crouched down, observing the minor burns that were littered across his cheeks and forehead.
He groaned, pulling himself back onto his feet with your assistance. “I’m alright.”
Jackson rushed to his side, immediately pulling out his med pack and assessing his wounds. The damage wasn’t lethal but if they couldn’t find a way to get through to the other side, they would have more to be worried about than burnt flesh.
Clarke was already searching for an answer to their escape and once again, she found it.
“It’s radiation.” She looked around as the bugs began to circle them, blocking their long-distance view. “We need to get through. It won’t affect me.”
Before anyone could stop her, she was running through the shield-like fence.
“Clarke, wait!”
“Get back here!”
To everyone’s surprise, she made it out the other side without a scratch. But how was everyone else supposed to get through without Nightblood?
You felt a warm hand slip into your own, offering a small amount of comfort. You didn’t need to look to know whose it belonged.
“Clarke, the tower—its Eligius tech. You need the failsafe code to turn off the shield!” Shaw yelled out. “Four-seven-eight-one-five!”
Exhaling a sigh of relief, you squeezed Bellamy’s hand. There’s a failsafe code.
Clarke rushed to one of the metal towers, opened the control panel and punched in the code. The energy sources atop each tower dissipated, signalling the shield's termination.
“It’s down! Come on!”
Murphy was the first to pass through, dragging Emori behind him. Copying his actions, Bellamy tugged you forward, the both of you passing through the towers together. Once everyone made it through, Clarke powered up the defence again, causing the swarm of insects to disintegrate upon meeting the shield’s radiation bolts.
No one said a word. Instead, they used the time to catch their breaths, some laying on the ground and others dropping to their knees. You tugged the covering off your head and placed your hands on your thighs for support. Multiple strands of hair fell around your face as you bent over, trying to replace the air your lungs lost, a few strings of curses spilling out in between.
Bellamy, who was so inconceivably fit that his breathing was already slow and even, placed a hand on your shoulder. “You okay?”
Lifting a shaky arm from your leg, you gave him the thumbs up.
He tenderly massaged your shoulder and scanned the group to make sure everyone else was alright.
“What the hell was that?” Echo huffed.
**********
Night cycles on Planet Alpha operated very differently compared to Earth—darkness held the sky for a good five hours before the two suns rose again, much unlike the twelve hours everyone was accustomed to back on Earth. That and this planet sent man-eating swarms of insects whenever night fell. Or so you assumed.
The suns peaked through the distant treetops; orange beams of light were spread across the fields you had walked. A few hours had gone by since you first stepped through the radiation shields. A few hours of walking got you and the others atop a small mountain that seemed to be centred within the large circle of towers, providing a good bird's eye view of the fields of crops below.
You continued trekking up the well-trodden path on the hill, Bellamy and Clarke on either side of you. The last time you interacted with Bellamy was when you entered the protected area, but since then, you had avoided eye contact, physical touch, and conversation. You knew yourself; one wrong move and you would lose his game. Despite almost being eaten alive, you were still determined to stick to the rules, and even though innocent affection and conversation were allowed, you didn’t want to risk it.
Plus, total avoidance would only make him crave you more—the basic rule of men, unfortunately.
Emori walked a few steps in front of the group, her movements quickening as they reached a rounded corner. “Guys, look. Stairs.”
Orange-brick stairs came into view and you watched as Emori began ascending them, everyone else following behind her. You climbed up the stairs, Bellamy ahead of you by a step or two. Not for long though. Your pace increased until you were shoulder-to-shoulder, but only for a split second before you placed a hand on his bicep, dragging your palm across as you moved a few steps ahead of him. You could hear his breath hitch and a small smirk teased the corner of your lips. Now he was the one behind you—how he usually liked it.
If you weren’t going to interact with him, the least you could do was give him a good view.
Once you reached the top of the stairs, everyone stood side-by-side, taking in the view in front of them. It was incredible. It was like all the beauty on that planet had been condensed, thrown into a single area and turned into a village. That was what it was—a village. Plus, a castle?
“They have a castle,” Murphy said in wonder.
It looked like something from medieval times crossed with The Hobbit. The windows were circular and made of multi-coloured glass panes. The structure was made of bricks and rounded towers with various intricate patterns decorating different areas, and two round staircases curving up to a second-level balcony. It was so striking it had to have belonged to some divine being because no one else could have deserved such a beautiful palace. Well, there was one exception.
You glanced at Bellamy whose face was lit up with the brightest grin you had ever seen as he too let the beauty sink in. Your heart skipped a beat and you had to turn away. So, you turned to Murphy.
“Perfect for you, Murphy,” you jested. “King of the cockroaches.”
“Careful. Roaches bite, you know,” he retorted
You raised your hands in faux fear.
Clarke stepped forward. “Come on. Let’s see if anyone’s home.”
Most of the buildings looked modern and were made of glass and coloured wood or shipping containers, surrounded and covered by different types of flora. Flowers were not in short supply there, that was for sure; every garden held a new and exotic type. Even the pond in the middle of the village had flowers in it. There were coloured banners everywhere as well—some that hung from each building, and some that were standalone's. The suns’ light just made everything seem so much more vibrant and enchanting.
You and the others were going door-to-door, knocking on each one to see if anyone was there. So far, you had no luck, if that’s even what it was. Almost every home had been checked, but there was no one. The last house to be checked came by and apparently Murphy ran out of patience for simple pleasantries. He kicked the front doors open.
“Well, look at that.” He turned to the group. “This one’s unlocked.”
He stepped inside and began rummaging through the owner’s belongings, not that it surprised anyone very much. You watched as he bent over and picked up something that looked like a neck cuff connected to chains on a wall.
“Hm. Kinky.” He turned back to the group with a devious grin on his face. His eyes flickered between you and Bellamy. “Any takers?”
He gestured between the two of you with the chains as if he were offering them. Oh, you were so tempted to pull a knife on him.
Your eyes went wide, and Bellamy almost choked on his own breath. All eyes were now on you and him.
You took off in the opposite direction before anyone could say a word. “I’m–I’m gonna find a change of clothes.”
It was a perfectly reasonable excuse to leave anyway. Your clothes were practically threadbare from the rough escape through the forest. Thankfully, you could hear the group begin talking about something completely unrelated before you were out of hearing distance. You weren’t sure where you were headed in particular. Anywhere that wasn’t near Murphy or Bellamy would suffice.
You didn’t want to be apart from Bellamy at all. Quite the opposite. You wanted him. You wanted his hands to roam all over your body, to feel his arms tight around your waist as he thrust deep inside you from beneath, and to have his name dripping from your tongue as he made it impossible for you to distinguish the meaning between the words ‘love’ and ‘lust’.
(If only you knew that he was suffering the exact same way.)
However, his ego was much too inflated for you to let him win. It was a sacrifice for the greater good. The greater good being not having to constantly listen to him tease you for losing in the future. But as time went on and your body started physically reacting to the separation, losing started to seem like not such a terrible idea. You were conflicted. Give in, or push on? The decision was painfully frustrating and also just downright painful.
While amidst your thoughts, your feet had carried you to the opposite side of the village until you were standing outside a dark red-wooded house. Covering the poles that held up the structure’s second story were apple blossoms. “Let’s not bite the apple this time.” That was the first thing you had said after stepping onto the ground—a reference to the story of Adam and Eve. Now here you were, contemplating handing yourself over to desire. A literal bite of the apple.
You shook your head, pulling down the door handle to the red house and it opened. Locks didn’t exist in this place it seemed. Stepping inside, you noticed several cardboard boxes on the ground both opened and unopened. There was furnishing such as couches, bookcases, a round glass dining table, and leather seats, but they were all scattered across the room and half had white sheets covering them. It looked like the owner had just been moving in.
As you assessed the room, you noticed a floor-length mirror attached to one of the walls, so naturally, you moved yourself in front of it. The reflection did not match the person you were before leaving Eligius IV. Your bun wasn’t even a bun anymore; half of it had fallen out whilst the other struggled to stay within the hair band. Your clothes had more holes than you could count and were covered in a thick layer of dirt and insect blood. A grimace fell across your face. Gross.
At your feet was another cardboard box; it was opened with a variety of fabrics spilling out. Crouching down, you pulled out the black material at the top to find that it was a long-sleeve off-the-shoulder shirt. It wasn’t exactly practical, but it beat wearing insect organs. You exchanged your two previous shirts for the black shirt; the material stretched around your curves, clinging to your body like a second skin.
Next was a change of pants. You kicked off your shoes and peeled off your jeans, leaving you only in your black underwear and socks. And so, the search began. A good ten minutes went by and you found nothing but long skirts and dresses. You were not about to walk outside dressed up like some grounder princess. Not now at least. Maybe there were more boxes upstairs?
After locating the staircase to the second story, you began to climb. Just like the first level, there were boxes and furnishings. There was a large thigh-high mattress against the back wall with two glass doors on either side leading to a balcony. The mattress was covered in several different blankets consisting of shades between white and purple with a mountain of matching pillows at the head of the bed. On the wall facing the mattress was another floor-length mirror. These people had a vanity problem.
Much to your displeasure, none of the boxes upstairs contained any pants either, so there you stood in the middle of the room wearing only a tight shirt and underwear. You sighed in frustration, tugging your hair band from the bun and letting your locks cascade over your shoulders and down your back. With nothing else to do, you decided you might as well go outside and see what the others were doing. You stepped out onto the balcony; the house’s architect had the right idea by designing it with a concrete fence that covered your lower half.
The others were still lingering on the other side of the village. You rested your forearms on the balcony fence, watching as Murphy signalled for Shaw and Bellamy’s assistance with pulling a heavy wooden crate from inside one of the houses. Knowing Murphy, it was probably full of stuff he was going to take for himself, which would have explained Bellamy’s reluctant stance. There was also something else that seemed to be troubling him. He looked distracted, almost torn between choices, his eyes occasionally wandering to the opposite side of the village where you had previously walked off to. Nevertheless, he eventually did give in to helping Murphy.
And then suddenly time all around you began to slow down. You were in a trance and it was no one but Bellamy’s fault.
He shrugged off his jacket and rolled up his shirt sleeves to his elbows, exposing his tanned and veiny arms beneath. He placed his hands underneath the crate and lifted in time with Murphy and Shaw. Even from such a distance, you could see his muscles tense and flex under the weight, the size of his biceps nearly doubling and bursting through the seams of his shirt. His face carried a strained expression, something you had seen many times before but in very different circumstances.
Your skin flushed with heat, and your bottom lip curled between your teeth as you struggled to keep your breathing under control. Blood was buzzing in your ears; you felt fucking intoxicated. You were aware of how feral your behaviour had become but it was inevitable. In a game like this, it had to be.
Once the crate was outside, he and Murphy placed it on the ground. Bellamy ran a hand through his hair, his gaze already beginning to wander once again. As if he could feel your stare burning straight through him, his eyes found your distant ones up on the balcony. The feeling of a hole being burnt through him was understandable because your eyes were ablaze with sin. That had to have been the tenth time you’d made him hard now and it was becoming painful.
You weren’t embarrassed to be caught staring, instead, you were intrigued as to what his next movements would be. But he made none. He simply stared at you over his shoulder, eyes stern and calculating. Who was going to win wasn’t the question anymore. The question was: How could either of you prepare for what was coming? A century’s worth of abstinence was also a century’s worth of build-up, meaning the release would be messy, and Bellamy wasn’t one to hold back.
Finally, he broke the eye contact, but only for a few seconds. His eyes moved to the building beside him and then back to you as if he were trying to get you to follow his gaze. So, you did. What he had gestured to was another pair of chains and handcuffs connected to a wall. Instinctively, you gasped, feeling a pulse in your stomach which you knew was his exact objective. You looked back at him, seeing the self-satisfied grin plastered on his face before he turned back to the group.
That son of a bitch.
Your back slid down the concrete fence until your ass hit the cold marble floor. He was driving you to sex-crazed insanity and you didn’t know how to fight against it. You needed something. Anything to relieve the torment. But you knew if you started, your hands would never stop, not until they were replaced with his.
Maybe the cuffs weren’t such a bad idea.
“No!” you had to verbally reprimand yourself.
Your head fell in your hands. This was all getting too much for you. One-hundred-and-twenty-five years… and a day! You wouldn’t call yourself a nymphomaniac but holy fuck. It was getting to the point that even his name had you aching, tearing yourself to shreds. You couldn’t take it any longer.
Moving onto your hands and knees, you began crawling—yes, crawling—back inside. You managed to pull yourself up onto the mattress with trembling arms and fell back against the quilt and cushions in the middle of the bed. A shaky breath left your lips. If Bellamy couldn’t be there to take care of you, then you would finish the job yourself.
You slipped a hand beneath the thin fabric covering your heat, fingers racing to meet the spot you needed. Back arching into the bed and stomach tightening—that is what you expected to happen when your fingers began circling your clit, but it was nothing of the sort. All you felt was skin on skin and the slightest of sensations. Even when you pressed harder, and moved faster, there was nothing.
Letting out a quiet, distressed cry, you readjusted your position and switched hands. You began rubbing back and forth, side-to-side, every way that had gotten the job done in the past. You moved one hand under your shirt and began massaging your breast, pinching and grazing your nipple, trying to replicate all the moves Bellamy had pulled on you before.
Still, there was no relief from the ache you felt. You needed to go further. Your hand moved lower, fingers hovering over your slick opening before sliding one in. This was never your forte; it was Bellamy’s. Whenever you needed to pleasure yourself, you would stick with outside stimulation, so all you knew was what he had done to you. After sliding your finger in and out a few times, you added another, but it still didn’t feel right. There was something you were missing that he usually did.
He took over your thoughts and you tried to imagine it was his hands instead of your own, but you were just fooling yourself. They were your fingers, not his. You were alone and you were desperate. No one could make you feel as close to heaven as him, not even yourself. Somehow, he knew the workings of your body even better than you did. Without him there in your desperate time of need, it was useless…
So, you started crying—like, actual tears-running-down-cheeks-and-sniffling crying. You felt utterly pathetic and that was all you felt. There was nothing you could do to help yourself. Bellamy was outside with the others, and it wasn’t like you could just waltz out there without pants on and ask him to fuck you incoherent.
Your fingers slipped out from inside you, wet and splayed across your bare stomach as you stared up at the ceiling, condemned to the unshakable longing within. Too distracted by your inability to satisfy yourself and your attempts to stop the tears from flowing, you didn’t hear the door downstairs open and closd. You sniffled, continuing to feel sorry for yourself.
Footsteps were coming up the staircase, but you didn’t hear them either. Nor did you notice the familiar figure that was now leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest, feeling that same terrible longing that had led him to you. Only when he cleared his throat did you shoot up into a sitting position. 
Bellamy.
“Bellamy,” you whispered, eyes wide and full of new-found hope.
He didn’t say anything, just simply observed you. First, he noticed the sparse clothing on the bottom half of your body; his pants became the tiniest bit tighter. Then he saw your eager expression—even tighter. And then, his eyes found the fingers lying in your lap, coated in a shine that had his entire body pulsing.
The drying tears on your cheeks were a dead giveaway of the desperation you had for him. He tilted his head, insincere pity washing across his features that you knew was only meant to taunt you. “What did you do?”
Your mouth opened to speak but you couldn’t find the words. “I–I–”
He pushed off the doorway and slowly walked over to you, each step measured in regard to prolonging the time it took for the distance between you and him to close.
You moved onto your knees as he got closer.
Once he finally stopped beside the mattress where you were sitting, he peered down at you. “Just couldn’t wait, could you?”
His arms were doing that thing again where they bulged beneath his shirt. He was right in front of you, all you had to do was reach out and touch. So, you did. You reached for his arm, but he was quick to intercept, catching your wrist in his hand. He looked like he was holding back a smirk, but his scheming eyes revealed how he felt. Smug.
For a moment, he moved his attention to your hand, turning it side-to-side to watch the light catch on the wetness. His eyes returned to yours and it was suddenly impossible to guess what he was thinking. He gently began to pull you forward, guiding you off the bed and you let him, oblivious as to where he was taking you.
When your feet hit the ground, he led you towards the wall. What you had failed to notice when you first entered the room was that there was another pair of chains connected to a handcuff. Scratch what you had thought before—these people had a bigger kink problem than vanity. Before you even had a chance to think, the leather cuff was bound around both your wrists.
You looked up at Bellamy. “Wait, wha–what are you doing?”
He sat back on the edge of the mattress. “Giving you another chance to win.”
The game. You had almost forgotten.
Winning and losing were a foreign concept to your mind now. All you wanted was Bellamy and he knew it which was why he found teasing you so entertaining. You tugged on the chains, trying to reach out to him even though you knew it was useless.
“Don’t think that will work, princess.”
You stared at him, exhaling sharply. Frustration was quickly building, and you wondered how long it would take until you were in tears again.
He looked around the room as though he hadn’t a worry in the world.
“It’s kinda hot in here, don’t you think?” he asked, brows furrowed.
Then he was pulling his shirt over his head and you were sinking to your knees. That was just cruel. His entire torso was exposed now, from his well-defined abs and chest to his broad and muscular shoulders. So cruel.
Your head fell back against the wall. “Bell–”
“What were you thinking about?” he interrupted, arms crossed over his chest again. There was no material preventing you from watching his muscles expand, from seeing the crafted curves of his toned arms. “Before I came in.”
I was pretending it was you who was touching me, you thought of saying, but your voice failed you.
He leaned forward, forearms resting on his spread knees. Staring at you expectantly, he was quick to realise he wasn’t getting an explanation. He nodded as if to say, ‘I see how it is’.
“Was it my fingers…?” He began cracking his knuckles one finger at a time, gaining all of your attention. “Or was I inside you?”
Your walls spasmed at the thought and you sighed softly.
“Were you imagining what it would feel like to have me between your legs after so long?” You closed your eyes, listening to him put the images in your mind. “How good I can make you feel? How fast?”
Goosebumps spread all over your body, your skin tingling with anticipation. You heard the bedsheets ruffling. He had moved off the mattress, now crouched in front of you, but you didn’t dare to open your eyes.
“You know, I’ve been thinking about it too.” His voice was a low murmur now. “I can’t stop.”
He watched your eyes screw shut even tighter as he got closer. You looked like you were hurting, and he almost gave in, with heavy emphasis on the ‘almost’. Instead, he ghosted a finger across your collarbone. “I think about kissing you here.” He trailed up your neck. “Here.”
You could feel the air flexing between your lips and his finger, and you shivered. “And here.”
Your eyes slowly peeled open to see his face in front of yours. His dark eyes flickered between your own, peering deep into your soul which was entwined with him. He was already inside you without even touching you; he was inside your mind and under your skin. Your body was his and his body was yours. You loved him so intensely that whenever he fucked you, you forgot you were two different people instead of one.
To Hell with the challenge. To Hell with losing. He was your Heaven, and such torturous deterrents wouldn’t keep you away from the rapture he gave.
In a single move, you leaned forward and crashed your lips to his. Your body curved into him and he caught you with both arms, holding you upright against him. There was a split second before Bellamy responded as realised you finally gave in which meant he could too, and his lips began moving against yours. Just like the first kiss you shared on Eligius IV after waking up, this one was hungry, but that word sounded inadequate compared to what it really was. ‘Ravenous’ was more accurate.
You moaned into his mouth, your body feeling like it was coming alive.
His movements were intoxicating and so were the small sounds he made when he tried to fill his lungs with air. There was a rumbling in his chest, and he sounded almost primal. He brought a hand to the side of your head, fingers buried beneath your hair as he deepened the kiss, merging your lips with his.
Your bodies rocked backwards and forwards, your cuffed hands pressed against his chest meanwhile his were around your back and the other was in your hair. Bellamy’s hand moved to squeeze your waist and your mouth opened, giving him the opportunity to slip his tongue inside and meet your own.
He rolled his tongue over yours during one kiss, and the next, yours had asserted dominance. You swirled around him, tasting him, mixing with him. During the time you took to explore the inside of his mouth, the floor beneath you had disappeared and was replaced with his arms. Your back was against the wall and if he wanted to, he could have dropped you at his feet; you had no way of holding on except for your legs which were wrapped around his hips.
You returned the power to him for a few seconds only to then lightly bite down on his bottom lip. He let out a quiet groan and slowly drew back to press his forehead to yours. For a while, you both stayed like this, breathing in each other’s breaths with your eyes closed.
Everything around you began to spin, and your head felt euphoric as you used his air as your own. The sensation spread through your body, it coursed through your veins and you needed to move, to feel it come to life. Your hips bucked forward but he was quick to push back, pinning you against the wall with a small grunt. His erection pressed between your legs, but he didn’t move. Eyes snapping open, you sent him a pleading look. How much longer was he going to make you wait? You tried to move your cuffed hands between your bodies, but he held them to his chest with one hand.
You wiggled against him, but it was futile.
“Bell,” you almost sobbed. “Bellamy, please.”
He lifted a finger beneath your chin, watching your reddened lips whisper the word ‘please’. He watched your eyes water, tears threatening to spill over the edge. You begged him over and over, and he allowed you to. He let you humiliate yourself in the hopes that he would give you what you wanted. You had completely fallen apart, and now he was going to piece you back together.
“What do you want?” His thumb brushed across your lips.
“Just touch me,” you pleaded.
A few more moments passed of you both just staring at each other, and then it was like something finally snapped in his eyes. He set you down on your feet. At first, you thought he was going to sit back on the bed, and you nearly choked out an objection. That isn’t what happened.
Instead, he pressed another tender kiss to your lips, then to your jaw, your neck, and down your clothed chest. His hands moved down either side of your body as he sunk to his knees in front of you and trailed kisses across your exposed stomach.
Your breaths started coming out in shorter, shallower intervals as he moved further down.
His hands squeezed your hips as he kissed the skin below your navel, causing your eyes to nearly roll back then and there. Finally, he made it to just above the waistband of your underwear. Your chest was rising and falling rapidly now. So close. His hands moved onto your thighs and he leaned in, briefly pressing his warm lips to your thinly covered heat. A jolt of pleasure moved up your body and you gasped. You could feel it—him.
He glanced up at your impatient expression before pulling the underwear down your legs, lifting each foot until it was completely discarded. He eyed the soaking mess that you already were and licked his bottom lip. This was all because of him. His eyes found yours once more, this time wordlessly asking for access despite your obvious enthusiasm.
All you managed to get out was a frantic, “Please”.
And when his mouth finally found your clit, a tear fell from your eye.
Your bound hands fell on top of his head, tugging at the soft waves as his tongue delved between your folds and flicked across your clit. His warm hands moved to the backs of your thighs, burying his face even deeper, exploring you even further. He moved down to your opening, spreading his tongue flat against it and dragging up to collect the mess that you were already becoming. Once he had returned to your clit, his mouth suctioned, sucking with pressure that caused you to let out a cry.
It wasn’t long before you felt the ghost of your orgasm begin to slowly step into the white light. The muscles in your stomach were tensing and rubbing together, preparing for a release that they were guaranteed to have.
Your back arched off the wall as you felt Bellamy’s teeth softly graze against the most sensitive part of your clit. He circled the surrounding area, the nerves beneath your skin setting alight with pleasure under his tongue, burning you from the inside out. When he mumbled something against you, you could feel the vibrations of his voice bury itself deep inside you, and you couldn’t hold back the filthy moan that had been begging to escape.
He pulled back an inch, your hips unconsciously following him as he said, “You lose.”
His mouth returned to your heat, focusing his attention on your throbbing clit, switching between flicking it with his tongue and sucking it into his mouth.
“No,” you managed to breathe out. There was no way something like this could be called ‘losing’. You were the one who got to feel Bellamy’s mouth between your thighs, bringing you to an extreme state of ecstasy. You were the one who had him on his knees before you. “I win.”
He groaned at the sound of your voice and you felt the pleasure move up another level. Your legs buckled beneath you as you tried to grind on his tongue. He took that as a hint to haul one of your legs over his broad shoulder. Now you were another level higher. Your hips bucked against him, feeling almost like you were vibrating as he continued his movements.
Just when you thought the sensation couldn’t get any better, you felt his thick finger suddenly slide deep into your opening and curl. Another tear ran down your cheek and you gripped onto his hair as your head fell back against the wall. You couldn’t even moan; there was only a chorus of strangled noises leaving your throat. He pushed upwards into the soft fleshy wall inside you over and over at a fast and steady pace, and suddenly, you were on the edge of pure bliss, ready to dive into the consuming waters.
His mouth sucked on your clit, tongue circling its peak, meanwhile, he added another finger to pump inside of you.
“Fuck, Bellamy!” Your voice had risen an octave, all breathy and needy.
Like a heartbeat, you could feel yourself throbbing, pleasure building more intensely with each pulse. The muscles in your stomach were so tight it felt like they were being burned with a white-hot flame. Your insides were twisting and coiling and with every curl of his fingers, the feeling only intensified.
Bellamy glanced up at you from below, your eyes meeting in a short exchange.
It all happened so fast.
“I’m–” Before you could finish your sentence, you were shot back up into space, seeing stars.
Your legs tensed up, heel digging into his back as your body began to shake. The coil inside your stomach unravelled, exiting through your opening but not before aggressively rubbing at your insides on the way out. For a moment, you forgot where you were. All you knew was the release, the buzzing in your ears and the way your vision swayed through half-lidded eyes.
Bellamy’s name flowed past your lips like a mantra. He didn’t stop; he kept pumping, kept sucking, prolonging the sensation for as long as he could. Everything was pulsing—the air, his fingers, your pussy. Everything. You would’ve thought you had ascended to a higher dimension if it weren’t for the man beneath you.
You felt his mouth disconnect from your body, fingers still moving inside, although, his pace was beginning to slow and so was your orgasm. The feeling was fading away, leaving you with an overwhelming feeling of weakness in the lower half of your body. Bellamy could feel your legs shaking, so he slid his fingers out. You couldn’t hold yourself up anymore and the next thing you knew, your legs buckled, and you were collapsing to the ground
Bellamy caught you in his arms, pulling you into his lap. He watched your thighs tremble as aftershocks washed over you, creamy liquid dripping down your skin. Your furrowed brows, half-closed eyes, and parted lips were a sight to see; he’d never witnessed anything more beautiful in his life.
You peered up at him through your lashes, cuffed hands resting on your stomach, and you smiled. Then you laughed, and then he was laughing too. His chest vibrated against your skin. Your hands reached up to push back a strand of his hair from his face and suddenly you were kissing again.
He placed a hand on your back and guided you until you were sitting sideways on his lap. Your taste was on his tongue and you loved it. You felt it seep into your own tastebuds as you rewound back to when you came on his fingers. You used his chest as support to help swing your legs on either side of his folded thighs so that you were now facing him.
His hands ran down your sides, stopping at the hem of your shirt before pulling it up over your head, exposing your naked breasts to the warm air. Bras were impractical when you were Bellamy Blake’s girlfriend; he’d always find some way of removing them anyway. Hell, you wouldn’t have been surprised if he had burned all the ones you used to wear.
He lowered his head to your chest, hair tickling your neck as he began making it his mission to cover your breasts in bruises that marked you as his. Despite feeling like your ability to walk was eradicated, you could feel yourself craving more of him, more of his sex. As previously disclaimed, sometimes fatigue didn’t stop you two from going multiple rounds and this time wasn’t an exception.
If only your hands weren’t bound. You wanted to touch him the way he did you. You wanted him to feel the world disappear and be replaced with a mind-numbing sense of sinful pleasure. You wanted to give that to him, but you couldn’t. Your hands were cuffed, and he had the key.
“Uncuff me, Blake,” you whispered.
His head lifted from your breasts, reluctant eyes meeting your own. “Why should I?”
You rolled your eyes at his stubbornness and turned your head away from him, but he was quick to pull you back with two fingers on the side of your jaw.
“You still lost, remember?” he added.
As if you didn’t already know that. “That was not my definition of losing.”
It was his turn to roll his eyes and even though you were supposed to be in a minor disagreement, you couldn’t help but think about how fucking sexy he looked. You leaned forward, lips ghosting over his. “Uncuff me, Blake.”
His jaw clenched and he leaned in, but you quickly pulled away. His eyes narrowed at you and the smirk you were biting back. He had played the ‘humiliation game’ with you and now it was time for payback. Bellamy may have been the one with the keys, but it was you who now had the control.
“C’mon, we both know you’ll give in before me,” he said, arrogantly.
Always count on Bellamy to be egotistical, even in bed. Well, ‘on the floor’ would be more accurate.
“Is that so?”
“It is.”
You hummed, placing your restrained hands on his chest and slowly grazing them down his torso. When you reached his stomach, you made sure to slow down and drag your nails across his skin.
He inhaled sharply when your nails scratched the area above his pants’ waistband. “Very conceited for a boy who can’t even handle being touched.”
His chuckle came out as a harsh exhale. “‘Boy’?”
“A man would take these chains off me.”
“You think taunting me will get me to break?”
Provoking words wasn’t what was going to break him; you knew that. It was underestimation that was going to be his fall. When it came down to it, men were very simple creatures. They chased after pleasure like it was the one thing that kept them alive, and you knew each and every weakness this man had. He thought just because he won the game, he also won the war. Well, guess again. You were going to knock him right off his high horse.
Your fingers dipped into his waistband. His hand quickly clamped over one of your wrists, pulling it away from his pants. Not that it mattered; you didn’t need your hands. He held your hands in the space between your bodies, his chest rising a little more irregularly than before.
You leaned forward, tantalisingly slow. This time he made sure not to move a muscle, allowing you to do exactly what you wanted. Your mouth hovered in front of his and you could feel his warm breath fan across your lips. Softly, almost as if the moment had become sugary and sweet, you pressed a kiss to his lips, a tender closed-mouth moan buzzing in your throat upon contact. He responded with the same energy.
And then the mood abruptly shifted as you glided your tongue across his bottom lip.
You could feel his cock twitch beneath you, and you knew you were headed in the right direction. Grinding down on his lap, you managed to slip your tongue into his mouth as he grunted. One weakness down; four to go. Your tongue swirled around his with each open-mouth kiss, and he had no choice—you both knew he was having the time of his life—but to reciprocate since he had already given up that area of defence.
Your hips continued to rock back and forth across his lap, occasionally applying a bit more pressure in the hopes he would be triggered to move. He wasn’t. Yet. So, you left his lips and moved down to his neck, sucking and nipping at the skin. His head tilted to the side with a sigh, allowing you easier access. This spot was not your main target, though. Your kisses trailed up to his jaw, running along the sides and the curve of his jawline before dipping just beneath the area where his jaw and neck connected. That was one of his weak spots.
His next exhale was shaky, paired with the quietest of groans. Two down. Then you moved on to the next target: just below his ear. Your tongue grazed the area before you left your mark by sucking on his soft skin. He was louder this time and your confidence soared higher. Three; two to go.
He had let go of your wrists now, resting his hands on the curves of your hips with his eyes closed. So much for the whole my-willpower-is-stronger-than-yours dispute. You watched his face as you dragged yourself back and forth over his erection. His eyes screwed shut, brows pulling together, and his fingers pressing hard into the soft plush of your hips.
Come on. Come on, you thought.
“Let go, Bell,” you purred into his ear. Your entire body weight shifted onto his lap and you almost revealed the same weakness you were trying to pull from him. He was so incredibly hard now that it probably wasn’t even healthy. He would have to unchain you soon. And just to pour gasoline on an already roaring fire, you added, “I want to feel you inside me.”
That was it. He couldn’t deny himself the heaven you were giving anymore. His hips bucked up into you, creating a pseudo-sensation of sliding between your folds—an action that erupted a full-fledged moan from his lips, causing your inner walls to flutter and your stomach to drop.
Weak point four—check.
“Fuck,” he muttered under his breath before suddenly snatching the knife from the holster on his belt and splitting the leather cuffs around your wrists.
And five. Check yes Juliet.
Wow. he couldn’t even manage to grab the keys.
Your hands were free at last, and you wasted no time in using them. They rushed down to unbuckle his belt and tossed it on the floor with a clink. Before you could continue any further, Bellamy rolled you over so that you were now lying caged beneath him. His lips came down on yours in a flurry of passion.
Now that you had full-body autonomy, you couldn’t help but explore every inch of him that you were once denied of touching. Your fingertips ran over his back, over the ridges of his shoulder blades, and around his large biceps. You wove your fingers into the roots of his hair and tugged just because you could.
He reached under the curve on your back, pulling your body up into his, your pelvis’ meeting in a rough collision. He was a mess of grunts and groans and you were quickly inhaling more air than you needed.
You moved a hand to his cheek to deepen the kiss as your touch explored his body further, slipping between your bodies and settling on unbuttoning his pants. Unzipping his flier with one-handed skill, your warm, soft hand slipped into his boxers, finally coming into contact with his hard cock.
His head fell to your chest with a broken moan.
Your fingers curled around him, beginning to stroke up and down his length. Bellamy had taken many of your firsts, including your first time so you had no one to compare him to. However, you were well aware that he was bigger than average. Even if he hadn’t been, you were certain he would satisfy you the same; he was just that good.
He managed to lift his head back up and return to your lips as your arm pumped up and down. His hips lurched forward as your grip increased. All he could think about was how good you were going to feel when it was your heat that was engulfing him, how wet and warm you always were.
Your hand reached the head of his cock, thumb rubbing circles over his tip as you felt drops of precum coat your fingertip. He was usually able to last a long time, just like you, but this was different. Everything inside him was built up for a century, and it would not take much until he was coming in your hand. You wanted him to reach that point as soon as possible.
You left pecks trailing from his mouth, across his cheek, and to the side of his jaw. The bone of his jaw fell victim to your grazing tongue as your pace increased along with the pressure of your grip. He was breathing heavily now, every second breath mixed with a low, breathy moan or grunt. You were throbbing just listening to the sounds he made.
A few curses left his mouth, revealing how close he was—that and the way his cock was practically pulsating in your hand. You twisted your hand with each stroke, effortlessly gliding your palm down his large veiny length. Your thumb grazed over the sensitive band of skin beneath the head of his cock, and his entire body flinched.
He was almost over the edge; all you had to do was give him a little push. Wanting to see his face one last time before you did, you leaned back, cradling his jaw in one hand whilst the other continued below. His eyes were shut, inner brows pulled upwards in a painfully blissful expression and strands of dishevelled dark hair had fallen across his forehead. God, he was gorgeous. What you wouldn’t give to…
No. You had your pleasure; now it was his turn. With each jerk and twist of your hand, your fingers ran over his tip then moved back down to lightly squeeze and repeat. You pressed one last peck to his lips before travelling to that spot below his ear, running your tongue over the skin and then sucked.
His cock twitched in your hand, stomach tensing against your forearm before he finally let go. He let out a loud guttural moan of your name, almost a cry, as he released onto both your hand and the inside of his pants. His head fell forward into the space between your neck and shoulder, groaning into your heated skin which sent vibrations down to your breast.
He remained in that spot for a few moments as you continued to slowly pump him up and down whilst pressing kisses to his shoulder. As he attempted to get his breath back, you removed your hand from his pants and moved both onto his back, lightly dragging your nails over his skin.
Now you were both even, but it was clear this was far from over.
Warm pants fanned across your face after he recovered enough to hover over your body. You were about to tease him for coming quicker than you did, but his tongue was suddenly in your mouth, rolling around your own. And then you felt it—he was already hard again.
That’s a lot of stamina for a hundred-and-fifty-one-year-old man.
He left your lips again and rose to his knees. His carnally intense eyes never left yours as he pulled both his pants and boxers down to his lower thighs. You watched as his cock sprang from his boxers and bounced off his toned stomach. Still looking good for a hundred-and-fifty-one-year-old man too. Extremely good. Like, actually drool-worthy good.
And it seemed he was thinking the very same thing.
“You’re so beautiful,” he spoke, almost like he couldn’t believe the fact himself before he descended back down to you, mouth hot on yours.
His hands were on the floor on either side of your shoulders, essentially trapping you beneath him. You loved how small he made you feel compared to him; almost like he could hold you in the palm of his hand like a little china doll. The treatment he gave you was also like that of a china doll—such a delicate and treasured touch. Though, there were times when he would practically throw you around like a rag doll, mostly when you were both deep in an intense fuck session.
The length of his cock glided over your stomach as he moved his body into each kiss. It was so close to where you needed it, yet still so far. Your legs curled around his hips in an attempt to guide him to your entrance, but he showed slight resistance. His tip was just pushing through your folds, sliding across with each movement he made. It was torture.
You pulled back from his lips, hands almost clawing at the sides of his chest. “Please, Bell, just–”
A gasp escaped you both as Bellamy finally pushed inside you in one fluid movement, his hips almost meeting yours as he filled you as much as your previously abstinent body allowed. Your walls welcomed him and the long-awaited feeling of his cock brushing against that back-arching spot deep within you. He hadn’t even moved yet, but your eyes were fluttering, and your throat was already tightening as you struggled to let out a moan.
Neither of you could do anything but struggle to keep your composure, waiting for the overwhelming heat of pleasure to subdue just the tiniest bit so your bodies could start moving without the world crashing down around you. After moments of stillness passed, Bellamy finally began to move, his pace slow but so, so deep. His gaze was intense as he found his rhythm, sliding almost completely out and then pushing himself back inside you. Fuck, the way your warmth consumed him was hypnotic.
It was kind of like the first time you had slept together those many years ago, minus the nearly unbearable pain when he first entered you, of course. It was intense yet still so full of adoration.
Your body soon grew accustomed to the feeling of his cock stretching you open, making room for him to bury even deeper, to feel your walls completely swallow him whole. That is when his pace started to increase. Your arms hooked around his biceps, bringing him closer as he continued his thrusts.
Not long passed before his hips were snapping against yours; he wasn’t just sliding in and out of you anymore—he was fucking you, pounding into you. Each time he buried himself deep, the area above his cock ground against your clit, stimulating you from the inside and out, so much that it was impossible to hold back a moan.
He moved a strand of hair away from your face, nodding his head as if to praise your vocalisation. The sight of him praising you for simply enjoying yourself as he fucked you was something that turned you on beyond belief. Not that you needed any more turning on at that point, but still, the reaction stood firm.
You wanted him deeper, in any way that was still physically possible.
And then, a sudden, lust-bound thought entered your mind and before you could even ponder it, you had used all your strength to roll yourself on top of his body. Now, his hands were on your hips, head thrown back on the floor and mouth hung open as you rode his cock.
“Oh, fuck!” Bellamy groaned.
Your hands were on his thighs as to hold up your half-reclined position and you were bouncing up and down, rolling your hips so you could feel him everywhere inside you.
A shudder ran down your body, peaking the nipples of your bouncing breasts. You swore you could almost feel him in your stomach. You shifted your body weight into your arms and pushed yourself upwards, sliding his cock nearly all the way out, circling your entrance around his tip before sinking back down to his base.
The both of you let out a synced noise of satisfaction.
His eyes followed each roll of your breasts in a trance, and then he cupped one in his hand, circling his thumb around your sensitive nipple. You gave Bellamy a smile, one that was so sweet and unintentionally seductive. He let out a half chuckle, half groan.
Your legs began to burn, a reminder of the experience you had with Bellamy’s tongue just before this. The way your clit was slapping against his pelvis each time you dropped mimicked the way his tongue had previously flicked and rolled around it. Your pace was beginning to slow, and your rhythm faltered, but you didn’t want the sensation to stop. Instead, you let yourself sink fully down on his cock, and your eyes rolled back. Ok, now he had to be in your stomach because there was no other explanation for the deepness you felt.
He was permanently in that spot that had blood rushing to your head, and with your hips rocking back and forth the way they were, your gut was throbbing with a build-up of ecstasy.
“I–” you panted. “I can’t hold myself up much longer.”
You squeezed his thighs, surely leaving behind red marks as you tried to push yourself up and down a few more times, pleasure and pain fuelling each of your repetitions. It was no use; your arms were trembling, and muscles were burning.
Bellamy was quick to your aid. “I’ve got you, princess, don’t worry.”
His hands moved to your back, pulling you forward, and colliding your breasts into his chest. Next thing you knew, he was pounding hard up into your pussy, his movements so fast you couldn’t even count the number of thrusts he made every five seconds, but it felt so good. So good that you almost screamed.
Your clit was throbbing, inner walls clenching around his unrelenting cock. You were hot, your body slick with sweat, but it wasn’t just that; there was also a fire pooling at the bottom of your abdomen, spreading through your muscles, through every fibre of your being and you didn’t want it to stop.
Bellamy’s arms were wrapped around your waist, rendering you immobile to each of his insatiable thrusts but it made you feel all the more incredible. He was hitting that soft, fleshy spot inside you over and over again, and you felt like you were going to burst. Your stomach was fluttering, his cock was pulsing inside you, and you were a mess of whines and moans.
“You feel–” he couldn’t even speak without releasing a rough moan. His arms tightened around you, mouth moving against your shoulder to say, “Feel so good.”
You couldn’t help but cry out at his words; he sounded so drunk on pleasure.
He began pressing rough kisses to your neck and the noises leaving your throat were utterly impure. His knees bent inwards, allowing him to thrust even faster into you. You were both overcome with desire, hellbent on chasing your release that was taunting you from the shadows. Bellamy seemed almost animalistic, sucking and biting at the skin of your neck whilst pounding into you from below.
Like always, he had made it so that you didn’t have to lift a finger, and he liked it that way. He was making you feel like you had slipped into heaven, and only he could do that. One of his many sources of joy was that your body only knew his cock, and it would forever only know his because that was how long he planned to love you.
You placed a hand on the floor beside his head, hovering your face above his. His eyes were quick to find yours as you gazed down at him.
In between each of his thrusts, you breathed out, “I–love–you.”
He looked so flustered, so puffed out. He was unable to repeat the words back without them sounding like a laboured breath of air so instead, he jerked forward and latched his mouth on the bone of your jaw, turning your skin red and purple.
Your head turned to the side to give him easier access only to unexpectedly come face-to-face with yourself being absolutely destroyed in the mirror’s reflection.
Well… It sure wasn’t a vanity problem these people had, you knew that now.
“Bellamy, look,” you gasped.
His entire body stilled at the sound of your voice and he eyed you with a worried expression. “Did I do something?”
“No,” you tilted his head with your hand so that he was looking at the mirror too. “I just…”
He didn’t need to hear more; Bellamy knew exactly what you wanted—to watch. Watch as his cock plunged in and out of your pussy, watch it curve into your entrance, watch your body bounce on top of his with each thrust. Damn, he’d wished either of you had noticed the mirror before so he could have watched you ride him from two point-of-views.
His gaze returned to you. “Hop off.” You were about to protest, but he beat you to it by clamping a large hand over your mouth. “Trust me.”
You gave him a puzzled, hesitant look but eventually submitted to his command, sliding off him and onto the hard marble floor. His body had left yours entirely, leaving you feeling cold and empty, inside and out.
It wasn’t long before he positioned himself to face the mirror, kneeling in front of it. He curled an arm around your waist and slid you across the floor towards him. Like a rag doll. He pulled you backwards onto his lap so that your back was almost against his chest and your thighs were spread open on either side of his.
“Lean back,” he said, and you did.
Your back was flush against him, and you could feel his racing heart reverberating in your ribcage. His arms wrapped around the space beneath your breasts and he pulled you upwards, supporting your weight, knowing you wouldn’t be able to hold yourself up.
“Ready?” he whispered into your ear as you watched him in the reflection.
You nodded, reaching around to rest a hand on the side of his neck.
He kissed your cheek and your eyes closed at the sweet act of affection. One of his hands moved beneath you as he guided himself to your entrance, his tip pushing against your wet folds. Bellamy watched over your shoulder, his eyes focusing on the way his cock teased opening.
He finally slid inside, and you instantly fell further against him. Muscles were very handy in this kind of situation. You were captivated—his length disappeared into your body and then returned almost to the tip, covered in a thin layer of both your juices. His movements continued over and over, but you never found yourself bored or wanting to look away. Neither did he.
Your lips parted with a moan when he abruptly took one hard thrust up into you. You looked up at your reflection, seeing the expression on your face, seeing your dishevelled hair… your bouncing breasts. Not that you would say it aloud, but you looked sexy. For a split second, you found yourself finally understanding the attraction Bellamy had to you, and then your mind was torn apart once again.
His speed increased and he was hitting your insides harder and harder with each passing second. You saw your thighs slightly jiggling and weren’t insecure or afraid of Bellamy noticing, but instead found yourself feeling even more turned on.
The room was full of sex—the sounds were wet and harsh, the smell of your pheromones clung to the wall, and the visuals were etched into the mirror in front of your bodies. It was beautiful.
You moved your gaze up to Bellamy’s eyes, seeing him just as captivated as you were, alternating between watching himself slip in and out of your pussy and watching your breasts recoil from each bounce. He then met your gaze, talking to you through unspoken communication. Though you were unsure of the specifics, you were certain he was telling you how much he loved you, how beautiful you looked with his cock inside you, how no one else could ever compare.
His tip repeatedly curved into your G-spot, the rest of his length rubbing against your walls, causing the flames in your stomach to start rising. Bellamy could see the fire in your eyes, and he was ready to turn it into a blazing inferno. He shifted his hold on you into one arm, reaching around your body with the other. His fingers found your clit, instantly applying pressure as he rubbed fast circles around it. That was the gasoline.
Your orgasm was no longer creeping up inside you, but rather rocketing to the surface. You were pulsing around Bellamy’s cock, driving him even closer to his own high. His hips were slapping the skin of your ass as they kept snapping upwards. His abs were more defined as the muscles in his stomach tensed up, trying to keep you upright whilst fucking into you and controlling the orgasm that was threatening to release. You always came before him. Always.
His fingers pressed harder into you, moving side-to-side. Your G-spot was being hit without mercy, only intensifying the pleasure you felt as he rubbed your clit. You alternated between holding your breath and letting out shallow, laboured breaths, signalling how close you were.
You could feel it, Bellamy could feel it—you were pretty sure everyone outside could feel it too, feel the powerful energy leaking from the house you were in. That is what it felt like. Powerful. And now it was about to take over your entire body.
“Bell, I’m gonna–”
“I know,” he panted. “Me too.”
Your hand fell over his, pushing down on it, applying more force even though you weren’t sure he could even press any harder. His hand was almost blurring in the mirror, and his cock was pounding. He was breathing so heavily against your back and into your ear that it sounded like he couldn’t even control the grunts and moans leaving his mouth anymore.
He circled your clit a few more times before your hand moved further down to the place you both connected. Your fingers found the area between his cock and your pussy, feeling him slide over your fingertips as he moved in and out. That was what sent you over the edge.
The blaze in your stomach exploded, sending sparks throughout your body. Your moans were uncontrollable, rebounding off every corner of the room. Your ears were buzzing with overwhelming silence, your vision partially blacked out and you felt so, so good. Tears were streaming down your cheeks, but you hardly noticed, unable to think about anything except Bellamy’s cock. You had ascended to a higher dimension and he was right there with you, endlessly pounding up into you, prolonging your mind-numbing high.
Feeling your walls clenching around him was all it took for Bellamy to fill you up with his come. His cock twitched, and the warm liquid came rushing out in spurts, coating your insides with white—with him. The thick warmth of your mixed juices leaked from your opening and dripped down his length. Your inner thighs were drenched.
His thrusts were sloppy and rough, desperate to keep the feeling coursing through his body as long as possible. The sounds he made were so guttural and raw that you weren’t sure if they made you come again or if they just prolonged the orgasm you were already having.
Somehow, in the midst of both your highs, you had ended up on the floor, partially laying on each other whilst frantically gulping down air.
You couldn’t move. One of your legs was tangled between his, and one arm was thrown across his chest. Your breasts were pressed against the hard ground, head turned to the side facing Bellamy. Everything was shaking, or maybe it was just your entire body uncontrollably quivering. Even your pussy was still clenching, causing you to flinch with each fraction of a movement it made.
Bellamy had a forearm over his eyes, panting heavily; his other arm was still wrapped around your waist.
The both of you just lay there for a few minutes, not talking, not moving, just recovering. Eventually, Bellamy gained back enough strength to speak.
“We didn’t even make it to the bed,” he chuckled.
You then realised you were both literally lying naked on a stranger’s bedroom floor and laughed. “We would’ve ruined the sheets anyway.”
“Probably,” he sighed, contently. He pulled you further onto his chest, bringing your face to nuzzle into his neck. He pressed a kiss into your hair. “I love you too, princess.”
You smiled into his skin, remembering the declaration you previously made. Tilting your head up and resting your chin on his chest, you stared up at him, eyes full of reverence. He peered down at you with a grin, and then his lips were on yours again, soft and slow; so tender that you–
“Oh, come on!”
You both pulled apart at the sudden new voice. In the doorway stood a very irritated Murphy. He seemed too shocked—more like too horrified—to even look away.
Bellamy ripped a blanket from the edge of the mattress and pulled it over your body. “Murphy, I swear to god I’m gonna kill you! Get out!”
“Oh my god!” he shouted in response. “I can’t catch a fucking break around here!”
His voice echoed down the staircase as he fled the building. Someone probably needed to find him a shrink after the number of times he had walked in on you both. He had made it back outside, returning to the rest of the group, though not far enough away for you to miss his very loud complaints.
“Where are the damn carnivorous bugs when you need them?!”
“What’s wrong?” you heard someone ask him.
“What’s wrong? They’re fucking animals, that’s what’s wrong!”
You turned back to face Bellamy, grinning in a daze. “I’ll say.”
Bellamy smirked, humming in agreement as he rolled back on top of you.
It was hard to say how many more rounds you went. The only time you stopped was when your bodies were screaming for a break, and during that time, all you could think was thank god for contraceptive implants.
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mclqren · 26 days
Text
STARTING ANEW ★ CL16
PAIRING ✦ charles leclerc x fem!ex girlfriend!reader ; niall horan x fem!reader
SUMMARY ✦ when your relationship with charles ends up falling through, you find comfort in a certain singer's arms [ SMAU ]
WARNINGS ✦ cursing, some hate comments here and there but idk if that's actually a warning
REQUESTED ✦ here!
NOTES ✦ to preface: i usually don't write for anyone other than f1 drivers & football players, but i liked the idea of this so i decided to go ahead with it! for the plot of this, charlotte & charles broke up september 2022, and the dating timeline for charles & y/n is nov 2022-dec 2023. the logistics honestly make not a lot of sense but BARE WITH ME PLEASE. the fc i've used is hailee steinfeld, but feel free to picture whoever you want! my requests are open so feel free to leave a request :)
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liked by yourbsf, charlottesiine, and 194,310 others
tagged yourbsf
yourusername bigger and better things are coming in 2024 🪩
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user4 oh she is glowinggg!!
user5 y/n is living her best life and we love to see it!
yourbsf nyc was sooo much fun w you 😘
yourusername had the best timeee 💗💗
user6 SHE'S IN NEW YORK RN??
user7 OKAY SHE'S STRAIGHT FIREE 🔥🔥
charlottesiine you're sooo perfect! 🤍
yourusername all you cha!! 💗💗
user8 MOTHERS SPOTTED TOGETHER??
yourusername
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( caption one: the only cha i need 😘 | caption two: night out 🌃 )
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liked by charles_leclerc, charlottesiine, and 210,998 others
tagged charlottesiine
yourusername idk this weekend's been kinda fun!
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user13 THIS FRIENDSHIP IS SOMETHING IM ABSOLUTELY HERE FOR.
user14 charlotte x y/n WE LOVE TO SEE IT!!
user15 okay but the mysterious guy in the third pic??
user16 she's in another relationship??
user17 how has she already moved on that quickly tf... neither of them deserved charles.
user18 shut uppp!! you have no clue about y/n's personal life, for all we knew that literally COULD be charles, or it could be someone else! she should be able to do whatever she wants without some troll deciding they have a relevant opinion ❤️
charlottesiine the best weekend everrr!!
yourusername love you 💗
user19 CUTIESSS
user20 the way charles liked this ☹️☹️
user21 missing them hours
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liked by yourusername, carlossainz55, and 1,081,007 others
charles_leclerc testing is all doneee - let's smash the race next week!
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user22 MY OH MYYYY
user23 he knows what he's doing w those pictures of himself
user24 no real im sweating over here.
user25 sooo...are you ever going to mention the breakup??
user26 or the new pics of y/n and her mystery man??
user27 to everyone asking charles to speak on his breakup: leave him alone! it's clear him and y/n are still on good terms as they're still liking each other's insta posts, but that doesn't necessarily mean they're together! they're people too, i think we all need to just leave them alone to process their breakup ❤️
user28 okay but y/n clearly is over him?? she's already processed the breakup, so why shouldn't he have?
user29 everyone needs to honestly just leave them be. this is sooo old rn and they're probably tired of it.
carlossainz55 all ready for the new season 🏎️🏎️
charles_leclerc 👊👊
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liked by charles_leclerc, niallhoran, and 190,201 others
yourusername sitting still, looking pretty! 😘💗
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user30 OH SHE'S STRAIGHT FIREEE
user31 THE DRESS THE MAKEUP IT'S ALL SO PERFECT
user32 i needdd a grwm asap ur gorgeous girl!!
user33 okay but the second pic??
user34 we already knew she was over charles?
user33 yeahhh its just so strange to see her soft launching another guy
user35 idc what anyone says i LOVE that y/n has found another man she's happy with!!
user36 sooo real for this!! she deserves all the happiness in the world 💗
charlottesiine 😍😍
yourusername chaaa!! 💗
yourusername
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( caption: heyy just came on here to say that me and charles are still broken up. i’ve seen a lot of rumours floating around the internet about the nature of our relationship, and while it is no one’s business except our own, i would like to just say that the break up, as previously stated, WAS mutual & we are still friends. mine and charlotte’s friendship also seems to be coming under a lot of fire recently, for whatever reason. she is an amazing woman and has been so supportive during this time of my life, so i kindly ask you stop bashing us on social media for simply being friends. thank you to all of the people sending me lovely messages - ur support isn’t going unnoticed 💗 )
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liked by charles_leclerc, niallhoran, and 303,331 others
tagged niallhoran
yourusername the best thing life could've thrown at me 💗
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niallhoran and who's that handsome fella 😘
yourusername just some annoying irish guy i met, idk how to get rid of him
yourbsf Y/N!! 😍
yourusername MY REAL LOVER 😘
charles_leclerc ❤️
yourusername 💗💗
charlottesiine me when i have to third wheel now ☹️
yourusername no neverrr ur my baby angel he can third wheel us 😍
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ashhh-14 · 1 year
Text
▨Kabedon▨
Characters- Ayato Kamisato, Diluc Ragnvindr, Kaeya Alberich, Childe, Zhongli, Xiao, Kaedehara Kazuha, Venti, Scaramouche, Dainsleif
Warning- Suggestive in some
Genre- ❃
Format- Imagine
Synopsis- How they would try and do the Kabedon
Masterlist
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Ayato Kamisato
The head of Yashiro commission was deep in thought, giving a thought to what his dear servant and friend Thoma said about ' Infliction of ones charm' on their partner. A part of him just wondered if Thoma had been paying a little too many visits to the Yae publishing house but he kicked the thought out, focusing on the plan at hand.
Ayato is always subtle in his ways yet enchanting all the same. He thought it'd somehow be a great idea to kabedon you amidst the corridor of washroom from the main hall where the wedding between the other two prestigious commissions was going on. The hallway may be deserted but the sudden pin against the wall as soon as you existed by none other than your ever charming partner didn't cease to make your heart flutter, breath shuddering with the close proximity of feeling his breath hitting the supple skin as his other hand came up to gently grab a hold of your waist.
"Forgive me for not saying this earlier but" He moved a little, his lips next to your ear as he whispered, "You look absolutely enchanting tonight. " Warmth crept up your face as his lips started placing kisses beneath your ear, hands gripping his shoulders as you breathed, "Ayato you shouldn't- Hah-!" Your breath was caught in your throat as his lips sucked a tender bruise beneath the surface of the kimono on your collar bone. "Hmm? What did you say? " He mused, his chuckle deep as he softly bit on your earlobe before whispering, "Hime-sama"
Diluc Ragnvindr
Diluc seemed to have a special place in his household for Adeline as she has been around for a long time. Saying that the two of you didn't have much time to spend with each other as of late, she suggested that you two should do the special grape picking together with Diluc! Of course Diluc was quick to agree on the suggestion and ask you, wanting to spend some much needed time with his partner. Although his mind couldn't help but think about the teasing remark that Adeline added before ticking away 'May as well corner them for some privacy.'
You two were having a good time so far, picking the grapes for the special batch of wine which Diluc himself takes care of throughout the process, you couldn't help but think how it'd taste once it's done for this season. The wind was light and sun high in the sky when Diluc suggested to take a break, both of you laying on the soft grass beneath in the shade of a tree for a change. You peered your eyes open when you heard a slight rustle, only for your breath to get caught in your throat as you found yourself pinned on the ground by your boyfriend. "Diluc....?" You whispered meekly, wondering about the sudden course of action. "I just wanted to umm..." He gulped, trying to find the right words, " wanted to know how you would react if I were to pin you down." A fond smile graced your lips as you lifted your head a little, placing a feather like kiss on his cheek before whispering, "I thought the day was about grapes but I think I would much rather prefer your cherry red face. " and somehow he flushed a little more after that.
Kaeya Alberich
A person who he met in a whirlwind of fighting a frost storm lawachurl, from getting to know of you as a new recruit of knight of favonius, to you two actually becoming a thing. The possibility wasn't totally out the window given his flirtatious antics but given the powerful and confident aura you surrounded yourself with made it quite a surprise for a lot of people. So when the day came of your return from 3 weeks of you leading an expedition in farther lands, he was delighted and but of course, with a new antique up his sleeve. Your figure entered the quarters in long strides and other knights behind you dispersed, going for a much needed rest as you made your way to Master Jean's office to submit in the report when your movements were halted by gently being pushed against the wall, two arms caging you in a little space. "Not gonna greet me~?" Came a playful whisper of your infamous lover next to your ear when you suddenly got a hold of his arms, gently cradling it before quickly ducking and getting out of his kabedon. "Later lover boy. I gotta submit in the report first." Is all you said with a playful smile before you walked away. You left him amused and enchanted yet again.
Childe
Being The eleventh harbinger's assistant wasn't easy. Being constantly overloaded with paperwork, submitting reports of regular statistics to other harbingers, having to polish fighting skills everyday, accompanying him to overseas businesses was no easy task. And to top it all off, his flirtatious remarks didn't help. Sure he was serious when he needed to be, but a moment extra was spent in teasing or flirting with you. You would be lying if you said that you didn't find him attractive, and his antics didn't help the case.
Currently being on a mission in Liyue, Childe gave you a wave off to go and enjoy yourself after the day prior's hardwork which you gladly appreciated. Only as the day descended, sun sinking down the horizon did you see his crouched form looking at a distance from behind an obscure wooden planck. You walked up to him, crouching just behind him, "Childe?" His moments were swift as grabbed your shoulder, his other hand covering your mouth as your back pressed up against the wooden planck, him head now ducked even further and much closer to yours. You felt your face heat up as your eyes met his, his breath fanning your face. "I am keeping an eye on someone. Be quite. " is all he whispered before lowering his hand from your mouth, eyes searching for the target as your eyes had nowhere to look at but his chest.
Zhongli
You were exiting your office, a small stack of paper in hands as suddenly a figure towered over yours, soon making you realize that none other than your boss was pinning you to a wall. You felt yourself heat up, covering half of your face with the papers as you asked, " Mr. Zhongli, is something wrong?" You wanted to be as professional as possible despite the bond you two share outside of work but the option seemed far with your lover's antics. "Hm? According to the knowledge I got from an experienced woman on the docks of Liyue, this action should have lit up a 'spark' of sorts in my love interest." You felt his breath on your face as he came closer, taking a long look in your eyes. "You don't seem that much affected though. I think I should ask for something more effective next time."
Xiao
Taking a stroll in the forests of Liyue was always a peaceful moment with Xiao. His hand gently holding yours. The physical touch would have made him embarrassed but not here, away from prying eyes as he basks in your calming presence. You breathed a sigh, taking a breath of fresh air as you momentarily closed your eyes, but it was perhaps not a wise choice as you stumbled upon a rock, about to fall face first and by the suddenness of it all, pulling Xiao down with you. Even his reflexes spoke care as he flipped around before falling, falling on his back as your head hit his chest instead of the harsh ground. You slowly opened your eyes, about to get up when you realised your position, your eyes trailing to his which were already looking at you. A shaky breath left your lips as he leaned upwards, his lips gently coming in contact with yours and before you realised, your back was against the ground, his one hand supporting your head while the other intertwined with yours, pinning in to the ground. Passionate kisses never ceased as his head turned to the side, deepening the kiss.
Kaedehara Kazuha
The winds made him catch on your good mood earlier in the day. His own spirits at ease knowing you're okay and no better way than to take a stroll while picking up some sweet flowers now is there? A mindless tune being hummed by your lips, looking at the flowers in the basket but somehow the object at hand was fallen on the ground the next second, feeling of bark quick to be felt by your back as you found one of your hands above your head, intertwined with none other than your lovers. A soft gasp left your lips at the sudden action, your heart thundering like the Inazuman lightning in your chest as you felt him lift your chin, his tender and longing gaze taking in your features before his lips were gently placed upon yours. Your eyes closed on its on, the free hand bunching up his haori as your lips moved against his. He pulled away with a soft sigh, his face nuzzling in your neck as he softly nibbled at the flesh. His actions made it clear on how long today is going to be. He was away on the crux for quite a while after all.
Venti
He had a great day. What better way to end it than in the all too famous tavern hm? Maybe Diluc was a bit [alot] late in stopping the bard today, having his figure sprawled out on his counter was not the best sight after all. The tavern owner let out a sigh on how me has to leave the bard at his house again but suddenly the door opened, none other than you chiming in. "Apologies on being late. " You smiled apologeticly.
Of course the events brought you here. Here you were, pinned to your bed by none other than your very drunk lover as he showered you with unstoppable kisses to every inch of your face as you giggled with each one of them, his incoherent mumbling "sweet lover" "my pretty partner" not helping the case as your mind raced on how to put the bard to sleep with whichever sanity that was left in you.
Scaramouche
It was a little past midnight. The moon high in the sky shining through the windows as you read your book, awaiting your lover's return so you both can go to sleep. It wasn't long before you heard the door open, the all too familiar hat disregarded on the table as the door shut. "Hard day?" Was the only mumble that left your lips but silence was the only thing that returned before you found his figure on top of yours, his head nuzzled in your neck, his breath ticking your skin as he wrapped his arms around you in a tight embrace. You wanted to rub his back but the lack of movement space prevented it so you instead opted to hum a mindless tune, until eventually his loosened. One of your arms snaking free, you cradled his head against you as you ran your fingers through his hair. He was right. His only semblance was here.
Dainsleif
You wondered if Wolvendom was a secret home for your lover given how much time you two spent strolling there. This time was slightly different though. The weather was quick to change as it started raining heavily, getting you two wet in the process.
The fire crackling noise was filling up the space as both of yours upper layers of clothing laid in front of it. You sighed, slight cold nipping at your bare skin. "Are you cold?" Your eyes lifted up at him, suddenly aware of the close proximity and slight nudity. "A little.." Your eyes tried looking at anywhere but his handsome form, but that didn't stay for long as you found your back pressed against the wall of the cave, his soft lips coming in contact with yours in a heated exchange. The next thing you felt was his warm hand trailing up your figure, the temperature contrast sending shivers down your spine as the night and fire only intensified further.
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Written by Yours truly
Ash
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genericpuff · 4 months
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LORE | REKINDLED EPISODE 41 - TOWER 4
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Nothing quite sets in the holiday spirit like SPOOOOKY SHIT-
Can you believe it's been a year since Rekindled actually started? The way time flies when you're having fun. I had actually forgotten I had redrawn a lot of those first few episodes when I made it an official "thing" (i.e. when I put it on an update schedule and signed my life away foreverrr /j) so tracing back when Rekindled officially 'began' had me finding old versions of those first few episodes that were oooooof bro-
Okay, but for real, Rekindled's come a long way, and it still has a long way to go still which makes me so excited. As much as those who see what I do here like to assume it's purely out of spite and hate, I really do love working on this comic, and that includes the part of the process where I revisit old episodes of LO that, even after everything, I still love. The newer seasons may be dead to me, but what it used to be has a special place in my heart, and Rekindled has really helped me explore what could have been. It's made Saturday nights a thrill for me again - I get to enjoy two whole doses of LO content now, with a fun balance of flavors that makes being a part of this community twice as fun as normal. You could say it's really rekindled my flame for LO-
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A very special thanks to @banshriek, who's helped me bring Rekindled to a whole new level that wouldn't exist without them. They've been an amazing assistant and a wonderful friend and I'm so thankful to have them in my corner <3
And thank you! All of you, for following along with Rekindled, reading my essays, destroying my ask inbox, and just being an awesome community full of awesome people. I've got a busy year ahead with lots of stuff planned, from art markets and expos to plot threads in Rekindled that I'm hyped af to get to; not to mention Lore Olympus officially ends this year, meaning I'll undoubtedly have loads to talk about (which fills me with both a strange sense of excitement and dread at the same time LOL) I'm gonna try and take it all in the best spirit that I can, I wanna come out of this shit sparkling like one of Hades' diamond golf balls.
Let's make 2024 a fucking banger.
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twitterpated-passion · 3 months
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A Brutish Love | Monster Boyfriend
You never left your village much, you never saw the need to. When you did, it was to the same place to forage berries when they were in season in the Springtime. You had to be sneakier the past couple of years though, the elders warning people of an Orc tribe living nearby. They didn’t want anyone leaving and being caught without realizing it, just for the village to be raided or set ablaze, or both.
While you understood the concerns, you never saw the need to fear the fact that they were nearby, holding the thought process that everyone needed a place to live. Though, that was before you were caught.
^___________^___________^
The sun was setting, which meant that everyone was either indoors, getting ready to close their store or spending time getting the last bit of the late spring sun before retiring for the night. You, however, thought it was the perfect time to sneak out of your own cabin to go to the little spot that had an abundance of berries that you used to pick with your parents when you were young.
Your father was a baker, never let a single berry that went uneaten go to waste. And your mother was a seamstress, prided herself in her work and always reassured you that whatever you stained with the dripping berry juice, she’d either get the stain out or make you a new one. You missed them.
You grabbed your father’s old basket, lined it with your mother’s old towel for it and set off into the woods, keeping a lantern in your hand to light your way once the sun made its way out of sight and the moon lifted to show itself in the sky.
Every footstep sounded louder than you knew they were, your eyes rapidly darting back towards the village until it was out of sight and you found your way in the little area that was filled to the brim with berry bushes. You kneeled by one, setting your lantern down and picking them, letting them fall with a silent thump into your basket. When you picked enough from one bush, you moved to another, and then another, until your basket was full and your lantern was practically out, leaving the moonlight to guide you. But as you stood and dusted off your clothes, you heard heavy footsteps, and you tensed, rushing with your basket to a tree, trying to hide behind it.
You heard a voice before you were able to fully hide, though. “I know you’re there.”
Your heart raced, pounding against your chest as you heard the deep, raspy voice. And it wasn’t as if you were able to hide, so you peeked out around the tree, eyes widening when they had to snap up to look at the Orc fully.
He was looking down at you with a tilted head, an eyebrow cocked. He didn’t look too thrilled, but he didn’t look angry either, an unreadable expression masking what he was really feeling. “Don’t you humans normally stay in past sunset?”
“Most of us,” you answered, though your voice was barely audible in the quiet night air. He seemed to have caught what you said though and a little glimpse of a smile appeared on his lips.
“Not you though?” You shook your head, but shrugged. His eyes darted down to the basket and then around at the berry bushes surrounding the two of you. “Do you normally pick berries when the moon is out?”
“No,” you responded. “Do you?”
“No,” he said back, that glimpse turning into a real smile as he side-stepped over to a tree, leaning against the rough bark of it.
You saw one of his hands move his long braid over his shoulder, letting it rest against him as the rest of his muscular, yet severely scarred body stayed still. When you looked back up at his face, you noticed that his right tusk was chipped, missing the pointed tip like the one on the left has. You didn’t ask about it, you thought better not to, especially since you didn’t even know his name, but it looked like he’s been through a lot.
“Didn’t someone teach you that it was rude to stare? Especially at something much bigger than you?” He grinned. He was teasing, that much was obvious, but the words of your village’s elders rang in your mind and you moved back towards the tree you were hiding behind before. He let out a small snort, eyes looking you up and down before he rolled his eyes and pushed off of the tree. “Relax.”
“Hard to do for me…in general really…” you said, and you almost cringed at how pathetic that sounded. His brows knitted together, but you shook your head and looked back towards where you came from. “I should be getting home before it gets to be too late-”
“Already? We just started talking,” he said, not fully cutting you off, yet not letting you trail off the way you were going to do. His grin grew and he took a step closer to you. “Don’t tell me I scare you.”
“You don’t,” you said. Half-truth. The fact that he could crush your skull with your hands scared you. Him just standing there didn’t. “It’s just…late.”
“Not late enough for you to forage though?” He asked, lips pursed the best they could be with his tusks. “You can just admit it, wouldn’t be the first time my race has scared yours. You probably have people telling you to lock your doors, hide or else the big, bad Orcs are gonna come get you or raid your town.”
He wasn’t wrong, you thought to yourself, but he did sound awfully bitter. “Does that happen often to you…?”
“More than your people cause wars, which says a lot, doesn’t it?” You couldn’t argue, nor did you really see the need to. Humans didn’t really have a good reputation to anyone…even to other humans. You only shrugged, giving him an apologetic look.
His gaze softened and he shook his head, huffing out a sigh, saying after a beat of silence, “I’m Cortek.”
Your eyebrows lifted and with a nod, you said your own name, corners of your mouth curling up ever-so-slightly. “What’re you doing out here, Cortek?”
He shrugged. “I like walking during the night.”
You nodded, humming quietly. You breathed out, pursing your lips and looking down to the basket in your hands. “Why are you foraging when it’s dark out?”
You paused, briefly questioning if you wanted to tell him the truth or not. You decided to anyway. “My village really isn’t the biggest on leaving or being out past sunset.”
“Why’s that?” he asked. Your eyes moved back up to him and he seemed to understand shortly after. “Ah. Right, my tribe’s close, isn’t it?”
You nodded again, offering him an apologetic glance. “Yea…the elders aren’t really…welcoming to anyone other than humans being near us…even Elves…and Dwarves…or others…”
Sighing, you stepped closer to him. “I think they’re talking bogus though, a lot of people my age do, but we can’t speak out against them without being reprimanded…so it’s easier to listen or to sneak around.”
You watched as his lips turned up a little and you were a little grateful that you were able to cheer him up a slight bit. “It’s like that in my tribe with the chief. Though you might end up with your head on a spear if you fight against the chief.”
“Remind me not to get on their bad side then,” you jested, hearing him breathe out a laugh before shaking his head and fixing the tunic that sat loosely on his body, covering the scars on his chest that you got a glimpse of earlier.
Looking back down at the berries, you clucked before getting an idea, tilting your head back up to meet his eyes. “Come back here tomorrow…same spot. Around the same time.”
He raised an eyebrow. “What for?”
“You’ll just have to wait and see, I suppose,” you said, smiling before lifting your hand with a little wave, turning on your heel and walking off. “Same spot, same time, Cortek.”
“Yea yea,” you heard him say as you walked away, a silent laugh shaking your shoulders.
^___________^___________^
The sun was high and there you were, standing in your kitchen, in the comfiest clothes you could manage, a couple candle’s lighting up the area despite the light coming from them not being needed as you worked on making a simple pastry dough, reading over your father’s messy handwriting on the small card he scribbled the recipe on. The basket of berries were sitting off to the side on your counter, waiting to be turned into a jam so you could put them with the dough, watching you and probably judging you for working so hard just to bring a few with you that night when you saw Cortek again.
It wasn’t as if you were meaning to impress him…simply offering a few of them as a peace treaty. You didn’t have many friends in the village and if this was your one chance you had, you were taking it. You wanted to know more about him, maybe where he got his scars if he was up to sharing, but you weren’t exactly sure how he’d react if you just asked, you planned that question for another night if a friendship actually blossomed. Maybe then it’d also show the village that the Orcs aren’t bad. That there was nothing to be afraid of, even if they were intimidating appearance wise.
And once you got the dough in a muffin tin and in the oven, you began working on the jam, grabbing the recipe card for that out from under the dough card.
^___________^___________^
Nighttime came faster than you were expecting it, and without bothering to change into anything nicer, you wrapped up a few tarts and put them in one of the picnic baskets you had. Then, after making sure everything was clear and no one else was out, you rushed out of the village, heading back to the berry bushes.
When you slowed yourself down as you neared the area, you saw that Cortek was already there, waiting for you. His head picked up when he saw you and he flashed a little smile, wearing an outfit similar to what he was wearing the day prior: a loose tunic and loose, black pants, much like what you saw the knights wear when you visited the city years ago, being lucky enough to get a glimpse of a few of them outside of their armor. “You’re early.”
“Or are you late?” He responded, but his smile grew and it let you know that it was just a tease. His eyes glanced down at the basket in your hands, then around at the berry bushes. “Come to take the rest of the berries?”
You shook your head. “No, I made some tarts today, wanted to share them.”
He visibly froze, brows furrowing before his eyes moved to yours and the deep brown softened under the moonlight. “You don’t have to.”
“I want to,” you said, lifting the basket and walking up to him, only to guide the both of you on the ground, putting the basket between you two and opening it before handing him a small plate of tarts, and pulling out your own plate. You spoke after a moment, “My father used to bake these and share them around in the village. I’m not sure they’re as good as his, but…I tried my best.”
“Used to?” He asked. Your eyes got slightly wet and you pulled in a breath as your smile faltered.
“My parents went to the city one day. When they were supposed to come home a storm hit…and they never arrived,” you explained, not wanting to go into much more detail than you have already. You didn’t like talking about it, even after five years.
“I’m sorry,” he murmured, pulling back the wrap over the plate. You shook your head.
“It’s fine…it happened years ago…the least I can do is keep their memories alive. Through tarts or something like it.” You just barely missed as his gaze softened further and he looked down at the tarts before back up to you. “They weren’t like the elders. I’m sure that if they could’ve afforded to move, we would’ve gone to a more inclusive town…”
“If it means anything, I’m glad they didn’t,” he said after a beat. “If they did, I wouldn’t have had you coming here with tarts.”
You breathed out a little laugh and nodded. “Yea…you have a point there.”
The air between the two of you went silent, and you watched him as he grabbed one of the tarts and took a bite out of it, waiting for his reaction, hoping you didn’t just disappoint your father for making them bad. Not that your father was ever disappointed in you, it was never in his nature.
Cortek caught your gaze when he was done chewing, a little smile upturning his lips before he nodded a little. “It’s good.”
Your shoulders slumped in relief and you were able to smile again, letting it grow when you finally noticed just how small the tart was compared to his hand, but he didn’t comment on it, so you weren’t going to. “Good- it was my first time making these after everything so I was a little nervous.”
“You shouldn’t be,” he said, taking another bite before eating the rest of it. You felt proud, even though you just followed a couple recipe cards correctly and they turned out how they were supposed to. But you were taking a win no matter where it came from. 
The two of you spent a bit in silence, eating without feeling the need to talk until the tarts were done and the plates were back in the basket. You were sitting at the same distance from before, a little more than a foot apart, but you felt the need to get closer to him, and when you saw that his hair wasn’t in the braid that it was the day before, you took that chance and scooted closer to him a little bit. “Your hair isn’t in a braid tonight.”
Cortek paused for a beat, but lifted his hand and touched his hair, nodding with a small glance towards you. “Yea, why?”
You parted your lips, but after being able to think about it, you thought it was a bit weird to ask him if you could braid his hair so close from meeting him, so you shrugged instead. “Nothing…just like pointing out the obvious, I guess.”
He smiled a little, his hand dropping from his hair and nudging your arm. He didn’t say anything else, but the silence that returned was comfortable and the two of you spent the rest of the night under the moonlight and in the soft breeze that touched the night air.
^___________^___________^
As Spring turned to Summer, you grew more comfortable with leaving the village since your parents died, even going as far as to sneak out during the day to meet up with Cortek. You met his twin sister, Aloka a month ago, almost instantly getting her approval when he made a quip about her and you socked him in the arm, not that it did anything to a man that was two or three times bigger than you. 
You considered him a genuine friend, the first one you’ve had in years, which, as sad as it sounded, it was true. You never realized that you didn’t have a real friend until you were truly alone in the world, and it was like that for a good long time.
You stood beside a lake Cortek had shown you soon after you emptied the bushes of their berries, forcing him to take most of them and bring back to his tribe, whether it was to eat or bake with. In return, and with a joke about how he didn’t want to see your massacre of the berry bushes anymore, so he showed you the lake that sat nearby, one that you didn’t even realize existed since your town used a river that must connect to the lake.
It only took ten minutes of waiting and distracting yourself with skipping rocks, for Cortek to arrive, wearing an open tunic that only really covered his arms and bottom torso with a visibly worn set of bottoms with a pair of boots. His hair was up in a low pony, and he grinned when he spotted you, scooping you up in his arms before squeezing you and setting you down to turn you to face him. “You’re early, Honey.”
Your cheeks warmed at the pet name, something he randomly decided to call you after learning that you put honey on most of your baked goods. You liked it nonetheless. “You’re just late, ‘Tek.”
He scoffed, waving his hand in the air. “Sure, sure, whatever you want to call it. I just know that you’re always painfully early and that you wait for me to arrive.”
You hummed, nodding along even though he was clearly talking out of his ass. “Or maybe you’re late.”
“I guess we’ll never know,” he said, smiling again before he sat down on the grass, helping you sit beside him. “Alo’ wants to see you again, and she also said that she wants you to make those orange cookies again.”
You breathed out a laugh. “She’s eating me out of house and home and she doesn’t even live with me,” you said.
He chuckled, wrapping his arms around his legs and tugging them so they’re flush with his chest, looking less like the warrior you were intimidated by in the beginning and more like a big, domestic puppy. “Eh, she’s just like that. It took her years to even eat something sweet. It’s a miracle she’s so attached to your baking.”
Your eyes softened and you smiled, a little thing, but it wasn’t like you could visibly portray how your heart felt at that moment. “I’ll make sure to bake some for her.”
Cortek smiled back at you and nodded, moving an arm before he tugged you against his body. You leaned against him, your eyes shutting and your heart skipping every so often. The moment felt so utterly-
Someone yelling your name snapped you out of your thoughts and your head snapped back, eyes meeting one of your neighbors looking at you with eyes the size of saucers, her gaze going between you and Cortek. The both of you stood and you pulled him behind you, even if he was the bigger one. “What are you doing?!”
You almost flinched at the shrill and she turned to run back to the village before you could answer. You wanted to chase after her, but you already knew that you were done for…the elders would find out and you’d be a goner even if you happened to catch her. So you sided and you looked up at Cortek, your expression now bittersweet as he rubbed your shoulders, moving to hold your arms. “You alright?”
“Not really,” you admitted. “I’m going to be in big trouble.”
“Do you want me to come with?” he asked. “...I don’t think anyone would let me go into your village, but I’d be right outside of it.”
You shook your head, even though you wished you could’ve agreed. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, ‘Tek. Just…stay here, I’ll come back as soon as I can, alright? If it gets too late, go home and we’ll meet tomorrow.”
He gave you a look, but you patted his hand and gave him a reassuring smile. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
With that, you pulled from his grasp, and made the trek home, only to find the Elders at your house, waiting for you to arrive. Your heart sunk further and you didn’t start to talk until you let yourself in and then let them come in, all five piling in your small cottage. You parted your lips to start trying to explain yourself, but you were cut off shortly after you began to utter your first word.
“We told you- everyone to not leave the village. We said that there were Orcs nearby and we wanted to protect our village. And what do you do?” The leader -a short man lacking most of his all white hair- said. “You go off and spend time with an Orc! Are you trying to get our village raided? Destroyed?”
“That’s not what I was trying to do-”
“Then what were you trying to do?” He asked, cutting you off.
You stood there in silence for a beat, your lips pursing before you sighed and said, “The Orcs are nice, they don’t mean anyone harm.”
“They’re Orcs, they raid and they steal and they fight, that’s their culture. You’re putting yourself at risk, you’re putting everyone at risk,” he said, the other elders nodding in agreement. “Think of how your parents would feel about this? About you putting us all in danger.”
Your body tensed, your eyes widening and your lips parting before closing a few times. You wished you didn’t say no to Cortek coming along. “My parents wouldn’t discriminate over an entire race because you guys think that they’re dangerous. They could be, but how many wars have we started with the Elves? How many wars have our race started because we didn’t like people being different from us?”
You looked around, you saw the memories that were made there, and you knew that your parents wouldn’t want you to stick around if it meant that you weren’t going to be happy. When you looked back at the elders, who were still gawking at you for your little monologue, you took a breath. “I’m done. I’ll be gone by tonight. Don’t worry about me putting your little port of power in danger.”
Walking to the door, you opened it, motioning towards the outside. “Please leave. I need to pack.”
Some of the elders looked at you like you had two heads, but despite the lecture and disciplinary methods the leader clearly had planned for you, he looked at you solemnly and nodded, leading everyone out of the cottage and shutting the door behind him when he walked out. You were quick to start packing after that, finding what bags you were able to carry yourself and filling one with clothes. You stashed what books you could and emptied out the picture frames before pressing the photos in the books.
You brought one bag down and packed your father’s recipe cards and your mother’s towels and forced yourself to ignore the baskets that belonged to your parents, knowing that you couldn’t bring them with you no matter how much you wanted to. After that, you just focused on the necessities, filling the rest of the second bag with it, and managing to fill a third bag with memories you were afraid to let go, journals you had yet to finish.
It took you a long time to gather the courage to grab the bags and leave. You weighed that it was so much easier to stay than it was to leave, but yet you did. You grabbed your bags, and with a tearful look back at the house that you thought you’d be in forever, you left.
You walked back into the forest, your legs moving slower with the added weight of the bags and the emotions flooding your body, but you make it back to the lake, only to see Cortek pacing. He didn’t seem to notice you until you were almost beside him, his eyes lighting up, before his expression fell when he saw that you had bags with you. “...They didn’t.”
“They didn’t,” you confirmed. “...I did. It didn’t feel right staying in the village.”
He moved to you, grabbing two of the bags from you and carrying them like the weight meant nothing to him. “What’re you doing?”
“Carrying your bags, you’re coming with me,” he said simply, moving one of the bags to the other hand and holding them in one hand so his free one could grab yours. “I wouldn’t be much of a friend if I let you be homeless. I have some space in my hut back at the tribe.”
“You sure? Wouldn’t people react weirdly to you bringing me back?”
“Maybe some, but Aloka is pretty close to the chief and his partner so you’re staying no matter who complains,” he said, and you felt relief fill your heart, nodding.
“Remind me to make her those orange cookies,” you said, a little smile touching your lips despite the situation. He laughed, nodding and leading you to his tribe.
^___________^___________^
Summer turned to Fall and Fall eventually turned to Winter, you grew more at home in Cortek’s tribe than you did the past five years you lived alone in your old village. You essentially became the tribe’s baker, and while you were put together externally, you were internally freaking out, using and abusing your father’s recipe cards to make enough for everyone and then some. But it wasn’t that bad, you got a warm place to live, food, and you didn’t even have to do anything hard, since everyone else treated you like you’d break if you ever lifted an ax to get some firewood.
There was just one, little thing that left you reeling: you were hopeless with your newly gained feelings for Cortek. There was a reason that you always wanted to spend time with him, and gods did you figure out really fast that it wasn’t because you wanted to be good friends with him. Not that you ever complained about staying friends. You were happy being with him no matter what your relationship with him was.
You pulled a cardigan over your body, holding it tightly against your body as you braced yourself and went outside, your feet stepping onto the fortunate light feathering of snow that laid on the ground. You scrunched your nose at the sudden onslaught of cold and you squinted to keep walking, hating yourself for going outside already. You found Cortek outside of the little tavern hut the tribe made when they must’ve settled here. He was talking with a few other Orcs, all of which waved and gave you little smiles before he turned to look down at you, brows furrowing when he saw you in just a cardigan over your clothes. He walked over to you and met you halfway, tipping your head up as he leaned down a little. “Why’re you only wearing that?”
“I don’t have a coat,” you said. “I didn’t go out often when I lived alone.”
He sighed, giving you a concerned glance before he unclipped the fur that rested over his shoulders and put it on you, the cloak warming you instantly, but being a little long for your body. “Wear this then, I have another one in the house.”
“What about you now though?”
“Orcs don’t get that cold,” he explained. “Thicker skin. What’d you need?”
“We’re gonna run outta firewood soon,” you said, pulling the heavy cloak closer to your body. “We only have a few pieces left.”
With a nod, he pulled the hood over your head and stood straight. “Just toss the rest in the pit, I’ll bring some when I get home, you should go back inside, you look like you’re about to turn to ice.”
“Feels like it,” you admitted, but grasped his hand to squeeze it before you went back to the hut and let him return to his chat with his friends.
You tossed the rest of the wood into the fireplace, keeping the cloak on as you settled on one of the large chairs that sat in the little living space just off of the kitchen. It didn’t take long to warm up, but being surrounded by what was essentially a big blanket made you doze off quickly, and you weren’t in the mood to get up to go to your room.
You woke up when the door opened and heavy footsteps followed, eyes cracking open to look up at Cortek as he walked in. He set the firewood down against the wall and glanced over at you, an amused smile on his face when he saw your tired gaze. “Comfortable?”
You hummed, nodding. “Very.”
He chuckled a little and walked over to you before pushing the hood down. “We could get it hemmed for you, if you like it so much.”
“You don’t have to,” you said, but you’ve learned not to fight with him about doing things for you.
“We’re getting it hemmed,” he replied, and that was the end of that. He sat on the other chair in the room, a loud grunt leaving him as he relaxed and leaned into the chair further. There was a beat of silence, but he broke it after a moment, “It’s been nice.”
“What?”
“Having someone else in the house with me…” Your eyes met again and he shrugged. “I’m not the best at being alone.”
Your brows knit together, but you nodded with a little smile. “For all things considered you’re a good roommate, ‘Tek.”
He smiled back. “I try.”
You knew he didn’t have to. As you looked at him, you watched him turn to look up at the ceiling before his eyes shut and you slowly unclipped the cloak off of you, leaving it on the chair as you got off and walked over to him, feeling awkward, not exactly knowing why you were doing what you were doing. “Cortek?”
He cracked his eyes open, jumping a little when you were so much closer than he thought you were. “Gods, Honey, you got close.”
Your face grew warm and you gave him a nervous glance, smile included. “I need to talk to you.”
Concern grew on his face again, and he sat up, nodding. “What about?”
“...Us…I guess? I don’t know…I don’t exactly know what to say.” You bit your lip, took a breath and gave yourself a little nod. “Deny me all you want…no hard feelings or anything, I just…uh- these past couple months I’ve wanted to be more than friends…”
Cortek’s eyes widened a little, and you already regretted saying something about it, but he drew you closer and kissed your forehead, holding your hand and squeezing it. “Aloka owes me five gold.”
“What?” you asked suddenly, only for your own eyes to widen and you slapped his arm. “You knew?!”
“‘Course I did, you’re not exactly subtle. Not like I don’t feel the same anyway, Alo’ just wanted to see if you’d confess or if I would have to. And you did it first so we’re five gold richer.” You narrowed your eyes at him, groaning before pulling your hand away from his.
“You’re ridiculous, Cortek.” He laughed, grasping your arm and tugging you back into him, lifting you so you would sit on his thigh. “You bet on this? Why didn’t you just confess?”
“I was curious to see if you’d last the winter,” he mumbled, planting a kiss on your temple, his tusks pressing against your head. He smiled down at you, and you couldn’t help the smile that came with the sight of his.
You shook your head and leaned into him, pressing your lips against his for a brief moment and tucking your body into his as his arms slipped around your waist. You were wondering why you even thought that the confession would’ve gone poorly, even if he did bet with his sister about it.
And hey, you might’ve gone through an emotional rollercoaster because this man was in your life, but you had him for good now, and you didn’t plan on letting him go.
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