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tanobatcher · 4 months ago

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first kiss

wolffe x jedi fem reader summary: a night out with your friend reveals a curiosity you want to explore outside of your jedi commitments. warnings: nonchalant final boss wolffe and suggestive content a/n: in my head, this is a continuation of moonlight with some time skip obv ~~ but i'm not listing them together since they are completely separate scenarios without any reference to the other. it's kinda fun thinking about this one shot with that background context tho idk but i'm saying this from a writer's perspective since i love a good buildup in general. also i'm mourning my first kiss fr i wish it was him :( another note...i think i have a problem with cliffhangers but ig that's my style atp

79's is loud, dark, and busy. It's exactly like the kind of place you were advised to stay away from as a youngling growing up in the Temple. There are all sorts of enticing opportunities that might tip anyone's self-control over the edge, opening doors your duties keep locked out of reach. It's not a rulebook you follow, though. It's a code. One that cautions against addiction—whether the item of interest is alcohol, money, or something less tangible like the ecstasy of interpersonal connections.

Sex. In other words.

"Is it always like this?" You mutter, unsure where to rest your eyes without staring at the entangled bodies scattered around the bar. But the intimate proximity between every pair doesn't unsettle you as much as the fact that they're all attached to each other by the mouth in addition to all the other places where they're shamelessly grabbing each other. Their movements are lazy and drunken. Unsurprisingly, this is the most popular commodity found at 79's. The pretty women, all exotic and eager, always turn heads and stimulate competition among the men simply trying to ease their nights during this difficult war. You understand their innate desires, even if you're forbidden to feel them yourself.

"I didn't think you'd approve," comes a response. It's quiet, but you hear the "I told you so" in it.

Tearing your gaze away from a particular couple directly in your line of vision, you glance up at your remaining company—the only person who didn't split off from your group in search of something else. His eyes are sharp as they meet yours, but he looks tired. You know this because his posture is relaxed for once, not at its usual state of stiff attention. It's obvious he's also bored, which is ironic. This is the only place where someone like him can do whatever he wants. Or so you believe.

"Why not?" You reply, not stopping a defensive edge from seeping into your question.

The answer is clear to both of you despite being left unspoken. You're a Jedi. Just a couple of hours ago, you had to clarify the rumored myth circling across the Grand Army of the Republic that "Jedi can't have sex." They can, you said. We can. They just can't form attachments. They can't fall in love. They can't feel anything more than what they choose to do, which never fully made sense to you as a youngling. It still doesn't. And still, you abstain from anything that jeopardizes your honor and denies your code. Wolffe might not follow the same way of life as you, but he knows what it means to walk that fine line. It's only natural someone as committed as him does, really.

"It doesn't feel like you approve either," you continue when he seems to ignore you.

"I don't not approve."

You roll your eyes at this clear avoidance of your statement. "Well, believe it or not, you don't exactly appear as if you're having a good time."

"Yeah?" He exhales a little roughly and leans back against the wall with an expression even more bored than before, "What does that look like?"

While his figure seems to take up more space as this conversation progresses, yours shrinks and attempts to hide from his judgmental demeanor. Still, you point out, "You're completely sober."

"So are you," he says, eyeing you warily.

"I told you not to hold back on my accord."

Irritation flashes across his gaze, but it's so brief that the moment nearly slips from your fingers. You're more focused on him than you think, though, because you suddenly feel something warm and angry radiating from his spirit. But why? Which one of his nerves did you strike this time? That always seems to be the case with him, which also begs the question of why he's even here. With you.

"I don't want this," you vaguely gesture a hand between the two of you, "To be a thing. You can have fun tonight, you know. I heard that we won't be on Coruscant for very long."

He only seems to hear the first part of what you just said since he merely repeats, "A thing." The two words put together on his tongue sound a lot more menacing than you give him credit for. Cringing at yourself as subtly as possible, you try not to reveal that you're secretly questioning your ability to hold a proper conversation with him outside of your battles and briefings. Embarrassing yourself is the last thing you want to do, but maybe he's banking on it.

"I'm saying you don't need to babysit me. I'm fine," you brush off, feeling your face grow hot as your eyes dart around the room instead of looking at him.

He hasn't moved an inch—not even his gaze—as he replies, "This isn't babysitting."

In any other circumstance, his short and vague reciprocation wouldn't frustrate you like it is now. But you’re dizzy from the noise and flashing lights, while a tight knot burns an ache in your lower stomach. It's humiliating to think that such an unfamiliar yet normal environment is causing your body and mind so much discomfort. It's even more humiliating to admit this aloud, especially to someone as unbothered as your commander.

"So, what is it?" You unintentionally snap, "Because I don't know why either of us is just standing here while everyone else..."

Wolffe raises his eyebrows at you. "Then we'll leave."

Your head turns toward him with incredulity. "No, that's not what I meant. You can stay, if anything."

"So, you're leaving."

Sighing, you fold your arms over your chest and cast another glance around the room. "Is that what you want?"

You sense his surprise, which can't even be confirmed by the look on his face—only your intuition. You're forced to expose more of your own truths when he asks, "Does it matter?" instead of revealing whatever he's feeling for once in response to your questions.

"A little," you hear yourself telling him unabashedly, "I wouldn't want you to feel like you can't...do anything when I'm around."

He scoffs under his breath and rolls his eyes at this, not even bothering to respond with anything else. You don't miss the slight curve of his lips that indicates his amusement, which can only be intended toward how out of place you feel at the moment. Funny to him, maybe. You can barely hear yourself over the blaring music as you shake your head and mumble, “Never mind. I’m being childish.”

“I’m sure things are different at the Temple.”

“Depends. Some Jedi know their way around.”

The breath he releases almost sounds like a chuckle, deep and close to your ear. “Guess you missed out on that.”

A joke, you think to yourself as you turn your body fully toward him. He’s already facing you, shadowed and distant beneath this lighting. Still, you see him clearly. Everyone else in the room is hardly recognizable, passing through your peripheral in blurry figures and faces while he remains still and centered before you. The music suddenly feels quieter, and the conversations seem to die down. You can hear yourself better when you tell him, “I’m trying not to…anymore. Miss out, I mean.”

Waiting for his reaction, you sink your teeth into your tongue just to feel that momentary sting without drawing blood. It’s a silly confession, but it’s the honest reason why you’re here tonight. You want to know what it’s like to feel that high everyone whispers about. Even if you forget all about it by the time the sun rises. Even if just for a second that sensation enters your bones and spills into your blood. Even if you regret it, too. The way you see it now, you would rather live with that than not know at all.

Wolffe looks displeased when he replies, “This is the worst possible place you could have chosen if you wanted to fuck someone tonight.”

Embarrassed again, you frown and say, “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“You couldn’t have meant it any other way.”

“There’s more than just sex. Don’t you know that?”

He startles you when he crosses his arms over his chest and leans closer just enough to make your heart race for reasons you’re afraid to unpack.

“I don’t kiss and tell,” he murmurs.

The softness of his tone sends a chill down your spine, contrasting the furious warmth in your face. It doesn’t take much to understand the implications of his words. But you’re not sure why they leave a bad taste in your mouth. It almost feels strange to imagine him in any of the situations occurring around the bar—hookups, flirtatious conversations, and much more when someone offers to go to the back or even leave this place. And just like that, when it’s all over, it’s never to be spoken about ever again. The art of detachment, which is somehow very aligned with the Jedi way.

“So, you do know how to have a good time,” you lean forward as well, “I thought you might have been just as lost as me.”

“I’m sorry to disappoint.”

“It’s not a disappointment. I’m also not surprised.”

He pauses with a guarded expression before carefully responding, “No?”

You shake your head. “No. You’re attractive. They’re attractive. It makes sense.”

He flicks his gaze to your outstretched hand as you vaguely gesture to some of the available women circling the bar before looking back at you. It doesn’t seem to bother him that you just made an extremely unprofessional statement just now, but you feel a tighter pull between the energy that flows from his spirit to yours. The reaction is there—he simply does a good job of hiding it. Unable to ignore this, you take a step closer to him and smile.

“I wouldn’t kiss and tell either,” you lightly touch his arm with a few fingertips, “We don’t have to make it a big deal.”

That flare of anger from before returns as he grabs your wrist and pulls back. “You don’t know what you’re asking for.”

“I do,” you disagree, “And I’d feel safer if it was you. We’re friends.”

He makes a face that almost has you believing he’s in pain for a moment, but he quickly regains his composure before you can ask.

“If you’re scared, then you shouldn’t be considering something like this at all,” he says coldly.

“I’m not scared. I trust you.”

He stares at you in disbelief and squeezes his fingers as if he’s trying to convince himself to let go. Before he can follow through, though, you step between his legs and clutch him by the forearms. This sudden movement brings your faces much closer together, and you can hear the ragged breath he takes once he realizes you have him cornered.

“Don’t do this.”

“You can say no.”

His eyes narrow as his jaw clenches. “Just for you to find someone else.”

You pause upon hearing the venom in his tone. “Does it matter?”

He holds your gaze, knowing you’ve taken his words from before. It’s another chance for him to admit anything he’s hiding, whether from you or even himself.

“It does,” he bites out, “If you’re going to be an idiot and not think this through.”

“I have thought it through. It doesn’t need to mean anything.”

“So, you jump in some bastard’s bed tonight, and the whole Republic finds out about it. What then?”

You wrinkle your nose at this hypothetical, which feels exaggerated and unnecessary to consider. “I know you wouldn’t do that.”

“I wouldn’t,” he glares at you, “But I’m also not offering that chance.”

“Because you don’t want…”

You don’t finish your sentence, realizing you sound more desperate as this conversation progresses. Snapping your mouth shut to process the rejection sinking in your stomach, you nod and begin to pull away from him. But he doesn’t let you. Studying his face with curiosity, it’s clear that he’s much angrier than before. The burning, hot irritation is simply climbing higher and higher the longer you stay near him like this. So vulnerable as if you’ve given yourself up to him. He’s not holding you by the wrist anymore but by the hips with both hands now, shifting your body closer and greedier.

“Let go, Wolffe.”

“You’re being naive.”

Averting your eyes from his, you look down where your frontside is nearly flush against his. “I don’t need a lecture.”

“What you don’t need is to sleep with someone just to feel better about yourself.”

“Isn’t that what everyone does?” You hesitate before pushing at his chest a bit, “What you do?”

When he doesn’t answer your question, you’re certain there’s no point in staying here any longer. You turn your head a bit to look around, but he seems to mistake this as an indication of your next destination—someone else. It’s unclear why he even cares, especially if he’s turning you down like this. That is, until you feel his hands travel across your upper body. His touch isn’t heavy at all, hardly burning holes through your clothes, which tells you he’s still trying to be careful. But the weight of this action is a lot more difficult to bear than the actual experience itself. He settles his palms across your waist, spreading his fingers out as if to cover as much surface as possible. It’s almost too gentle for someone like him.

Turning back to him, you nearly lose the breath you were just about to exhale. It gets stuck in your throat, constricting your insides into a whirlwind of squeezing nerves. This is the same Wolffe you’ve known for a couple of years now. The same Wolffe who’s never made any move to touch you if he doesn’t need to. The current look in his eyes is wildly different, though. It’s the reason for your pause as you try to recognize the hungry darkness threatening to swallow you whole. And maybe, if you push a little harder, it just might.

“You want me,” you whisper, “I can feel it.”

He closes his eyes. Opens them slowly. “Careful.”

But you’re already treading dangerously. Inhaling a deep breath, you let your body lean into his touch a little more. Closer. Even closer when he applies some pressure to his hands. He’s looking at your lips in anticipation of a kiss, which is becoming imminently unavoidable with the little distance that remains between your stolen breaths. Nervous, you steady yourself by bracing your hands against the solid plane of his chest and feel some vibrations when he finally speaks.

“I’m not kissing you just so you can prove your point.”

Your lips part as your breath hitches upon hearing how hoarse and desperate he sounds despite the indifference in his words. You almost have him where you want him. Time seems to slow as the room empties, but only in your imagination. All that occupies your consciousness is you and him in each other’s arms.

“Then kiss me because you want to.”

You hear a soft curse sound from his lips, and it’s almost sweet. It’s not rough and mean like the version of him you’re used to. The version of him you suspect you’ll still like, even after this whole situation becomes a forgotten memory. Maybe it won’t even make it to that point, because he still hasn’t kissed you. You pull your head back just a bit with the intention of saying something, but that only worsens his irritation. It also provokes the reaction you’ve been waiting for. There’s something impatient about the way his mouth claims yours, even though he’s the one who wasted all this time in the first place. Both of you are wondering the same thing, though. What took so long?

Your eyes flutter shut as he slows the kiss, letting it linger before pulling away. Still holding you close, he rests his forehead against yours while catching his breath in a few short exhales. You can see his heavy-lidded stare through your lashes when you open your eyes, also breathing deeply to savor the last of what’s already gone. But just as you accept this is over, he cups the back of your neck and leans in for more. And when he kisses you again, you know this time is the real him—the one that isn’t holding back anymore.

You gasp against his mouth when he pivots your bodies and pushes you into the wall that was just behind him. While you’re too far gone in his embrace to care if anyone sees you like this, he seems to remember your status outside of these walls. Covering your figure with his, he takes your surprise as an opportunity to kiss you deeper. His lips part yours wider with a low groan that wracks a shiver through your shoulders. He feels you tremble against him in that moment, caressing your jaw with the hand cupping your neck. His other arm holds you steady, gentle unlike the way he’s kissing you now.

It’s almost hard to keep up as everything intensifies. He’s still kissing you slowly, but it’s not lazy like the speed might suggest. Everything about the way his lips open and close over yours, sucking roughly when you sigh, speaks to his calculating nature. You wind your arms around his neck and drop your face to his chest when he nudges his thigh between your legs, applying just enough pressure to stimulate yet another foreign feeling you want more of.

“That feels…” you gasp softly as he slides his thigh deeper between your legs and kisses your neck, “…Good.”

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” he groans into your skin.

You shake your head and tighten your arms around him, afraid he’ll walk away now when you finally have what you want. “I don’t care. It doesn’t have to mean anything.”

“To you.”

The response sounds bitter as it gets lost in another kiss you’re not sure who initiates. All you can feel is his mouth slipping over yours with barely any air to breathe between your kisses. He pulls back just to kiss you again—harder, angrier, and rougher as if to tell you something he can’t admit aloud. His hands are now clutching at your clothes, dragging slightly before pausing like a reminder of not to get carried away. You feel the feverish desperation beneath the fabric, though. You want to feel it even closer if it means feeling him closer.

“Wolffe,” you manage through another kiss.

“Mhm?”

“We can leave. Go somewhere else.”

He seems to consider it as he sucks on your neck just above your collarbone, but it isn’t until he pulls back and sees your face that reality sinks in. Your stomach drops when his expression blanches, growing cold and distant once again. The regret is clear as it writes itself all over his hard stare, one that you never expected to be so disappointed to see. Maybe if you hadn’t said anything, you wouldn’t have ruined a moment that never belonged to you in the first place.

“What’s wrong?” You ask quietly, even though you know the exact answer.

You. It’s you.

“This…was wrong,” he lets go of you completely and steps back, closer to the crowd that’s about to engulf him into disappearance, “I shouldn’t have done that.”

You try to reach for him, but he’s already so far. “Wolffe, it doesn’t—“

“Stop,” he avoids your touch, “I can’t.”

Some wounds sting at his words, but they bleed when he leaves without sparing you another glance. It’s suddenly so noisy once again, suffocating you with shitty music and boring conversations you don’t want to overhear any longer. The air has grown stale, but you still taste him on your tongue as his figure joins the blur of everyone else in this loud, dark, and busy bar.

#star wars #the clone wars #clone x reader #commander wolffe x reader #wolffe x reader #tcw commander wolffe #tcw wolffe #tcw #clone wars #star wars clones #clone troopers #sw tcw #star wars tcw #star wars the clone wars #104th battalion

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hinge · 16 days ago

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Hinge presents an anthology of love stories almost never told. Read more on https://no-ordinary-love.co

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uceyliyahh · 29 days ago

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MIDNIGHT SIN

summary: her father sold her off, he didn’t care about her anymore he just wanted the money. Sold her off to bloodsucking vampires that can just kill her within seconds due to how sweet she smelt. Jimmy warned her to stay away, to mind her business while living with them giving her the cold shoulder, but she couldn’t help herself but not to stay away.

warnings contain: explicit sexual content, bloodplay, possessive, supernatural themes. (Reader discretion is advised), dark romance, sold off.

If you’re not into biting, obsession, and being absolutely devoured by a cold-hearted vampire…then you should go ahead n skip this.

word count: 6.6k

SO MDNI

Jimmy Uso x Soleia

AWFUL GRAMMAR IM GETTING BETTER I SWEAR LOL.

comments, likes, repost are appreciated I would love the constructive feedback in what area I need to approve in. 🤍

ALSO! I don’t not want nobody stealing my fanfics or take it as theirs that will be an issue fasho so keep it cute respectfully.

I only own my OC along with the make up scenarios

again mdni you have been warned.

TAGS ⬇️ lmk if you wanna be tag 🏷️ @pinkwithhearts @420days @jstarr86 @empressdede @angiedawn02 @biancasreign @prettyfilmz @fafomama @levissslutt

@bebesobrielo @skyesthebomb @aikosilo @papireigns-05 @punksyeet @paigereeder @magnificentbouquetmusic @shes2real @wisteria-bae @sheaabuttaababyy

@charmed-dreamssss @fearlesschimera @partypoison00 @mselenalovebug @bloodlinesbabe93 @justazzi @xbriexx @luvrsluxe @celesteheartsjey @4milly @luuvprincess @yyaktayak @yana3sworld @mzv11 @mjonthetrack @ambersinterlude @li-da-savage @sharmelasworld @shanthefemalerapper @sharmelasworld @spiicii @jeyusosqueen @amazinggirlsstuff @shes2real @marababyyyy @sharmelasworld @trippiexlove

𝑂𝑛𝑒

𝑂𝑚𝑛𝑖𝑠𝑐𝑖𝑒𝑛𝑡

She was in disbelief that her father could betray her in such a manner. Despite her desperate attempts to fend off him and his associates, it was futile; they possessed greater strength than she did—her screams echoed as she kicked her feet, pleading with him not to treat her as if she were merely a commodity to be sold at a market.

She found herself perplexed by his actions and the motives behind such behavior, yet it shattered her heart—the individual she had admired was betraying her trust for reasons unknown.

A needle had been inserted into her neck, introducing an unknown substance as her eyelids fluttered, fighting to remain open while she sensed someone lifting her towards the car, accompanied by the sound of their voices.

“You sure they aren’t going to eat her? These are vampires we are talking about Daniel.” The man said.

Daniel shook his head, “I’ve been knowing the Fatu’s for a while now, they aren’t gonna hurt her.” He said.

And that was the final sound she perceived before darkness enveloped her; the car door closed behind her as her father and his companion entered the vehicle, with him seated in the passenger's seat, both casting their gazes upon Soleia.

“You think she’ll forgive you?”

“She’ll be thanking me soon.”

—

Soleia awoke, feeling a dull ache in her neck as she gently massaged it with her hand. Rubbing her eyes to restore her vision, she surveyed her surroundings and realized she was not in her home, but in an unfamiliar place. The room was enveloped in a delightful aroma of coconut and honey, filling the entire bedroom.

She could perceive the enticing aroma of lunch being prepared, wafting into her bedroom, prompting her to reluctantly rise from the bed to uncover the source of the commotion. How long had she been in slumber? And what brought her to this place?

She gently opened the door, peering out to find the area devoid of anyone, yet the enticing aroma of food wafted from the kitchen. As she strolled down the hallway, she admired the mansion adorned with vibrant Samoan culture and colors. Suddenly, her gaze fell upon an individual standing before her, a warm smile gracing their face.

Soleia was taken aback by his presence, unable to identify the man who stood at an impressive 6'2", casting a shadow that made her feel diminutive in comparison.

“I see that you’re finally awake! I’m Joshua by the way.” Jey said as he introduced himself.

She shook his hand before speaking, “I’m S-soleia…” she said nervously while fiddling with her clothes which made him chuckle at her cuteness.

“You don’t have to be shy little mama, we are friendly fasho, c’mon you must be hungry.” She nodded her head as she followed him down the steps with his arm around her shoulders.

Upon doing so, she observed a multitude of individuals gathered in the kitchen or the living room, engrossed in either a captivating screen or a book. At that moment, all eyes shifted towards her, as if she were an exquisite feast.

Although it made her feel anxious and frightened, as she was unfamiliar with these individuals and believed they were equally unacquainted with her—that was when she noticed another gentleman approaching her, a smile gracing his lips.

“You must be Soleia, your father has told me so much about you hon.” Rikishi said.

How does he know her father?

“Welcome to the family, gon’ ahead and take a seat. We are just now finishing lunch for you.” Why were they being friendly to her? What was going on?

Jey graciously drew out a chair for her as she settled into it, eagerly anticipating her meal. The moment the aroma wafted through the air, she instantly recognized it as her beloved lunch dish, one that she and her father would lovingly prepare during her childhood.

How the fuck did they know all of this?

She perceived the stove's click as a petite woman set her meal directly before her, the aroma of the food striking her senses like a bolt of lightning. The short lady offered her a smile before gracefully exiting the kitchen.

Soleia elegantly secured her hair around her wrist as she gathered her naturally long locks into a refined bun. With a pair of chopsticks in hand, which rested beside her on the table, she commenced her meal. Although she sensed the eyes of those around her observing her as she enjoyed her lunch, she chose to disregard their presence, feigning that they were invisible.

It was her beloved Korean delicacy, prepared to perfection according to her preferences. As she began to slurp the noodles, a deep sigh escaped her lips, for her heart danced with delight, and her taste buds savored every exquisite flavor of the black bean noodles.

She elegantly took a napkin from beside her, delicately wiping her mouth before resuming her enjoyment of the black bean noodles. In her peripheral vision, she noticed a tall figure, standing at 6'3", with flowing hair and arms crossed over his chest, casually leaning against the wall as he observed her with keen interest.

Nearly indistinguishable from Jey, presuming they were twins without a single inquiry, she observed a girl approaching him, a radiant smile gracing her lips as she bestowed a kiss upon him, expressing her affection, which in turn elicited a smile from him.

Soleia minded her business as she had seen Jey sitting next to her.

“How is it?” Jey asked.

She took a slight pause for a moment before wiping her mouth again, “it’s good really good, my favorite Korean meal and was that your mother? She cooked it so well.” Soleia replied with a smile on her face.

“Yeah, that’s our mama for ya. She’s really sweet, oh I can show you around the crib if you like.” Soleia nodded her head as her and Jey continued to talk with each other.

Soleia began to sense a growing comfort in their presence, yet she remained vigilant, uncertain of their genuine motives and the reasons behind their kindness towards her—this unnerved her, compelling her to maintain her defenses for the time being.

She was not particularly forthcoming with someone she had yet to meet. Thus, she felt compelled to shield herself until she could obtain some clarity. Jey was graciously guiding her through the residence, sharing tales of their history and the duration of their family's ownership of the house.

He guided her through the exquisite bedrooms, showcased the serene pool nestled in the backyard, and revealed the elegant balcony, along with various other splendid features of the residence. Notably, he highlighted the exclusive private gym located in the basement, thoughtfully available should she wish to engage in a workout.

“Will I still be able to go to work?” She asked.

“Yeah, of course. We will just be watching over you for safety reasons.” He said.

Safety reasons?

“Watch over me? Why?”

"Our only concern is your well-being, and I sincerely hope this doesn’t cause you any discomfort." Jey was striving to ensure she felt at ease while residing with them, unaware that her father had bartered her to a group of vampires due to his dire financial situation stemming from a gambling addiction that had depleted his resources, compelling him to take such drastic measures.

She shook her head, “if that’s ya’ll jobs then I’m not trippin’ Jey.” A little protection wouldn’t hurt right?

As they proceeded with the house tour, she noticed the same individual strolling past her and Jey. Their eyes met briefly, sending a shiver of fear through her before she averted her gaze, concentrating instead on Jey's conversation as they moved further away.

—

Following the tour, Soleia managed to retrieve her phone along with several garments that had been neatly packed within a suitcase, presuming that her father was responsible for this, as she had noticed text messages from Jaida, her closest companion.

Jaida🩵: GIRL WYA? Jaida🩵: ARE YOU OKAY? Jaida🩵: PLEASE TEXT ME BACK

Soleia began texting her best friend back.

Leia🌺: I’m okay Jaida

Jaida🩵: thank god! I thought something happened to you

Leia🌺: I think something did bc I literally woke up in a random house filled with ppl ion even know

Jaida🩵: what? Where's your father?

She didn’t know.

Leia🌺: idk the last thing I remember was getting stick in the neck with a needle and being put in the backseat after that everything went black

Jaida🩵: omggg wya?

Leia🌺: girl I don’t know honestly but I already met one of the guys and their pops. Lemme tell you girl…

She found herself contemplating him, the towering man standing at 6’3”, who gazed at her as she enjoyed her lunch, following their shared glance during the house tour that Jey was providing.

Jaida🩵: what? Is one of them fine asf?

Leia🌺: YES FINE AS HELL I TELL U

Jaida🩵: ouuu girl what does he looked like

Leia🌺: he’s like 6’3 tall asf and had these tribal tattoos over his arms with his long curly hair out

Jaida🩵: 6’3? Did you get a name or something?

Upon reflection, it appears he never truly introduced himself to her. It almost gives the impression that he was acting indifferent, as if he were giving her the cold shoulder, suggesting she had done something wrong, despite the fact that they had yet to meet.

Leia🌺: nah I didn’t but I got the other guys name, name is Joshua but his ppl call him Josh or Jey

Jaida🩵: Joshua? As in Joshua fatu?

Leia🌺: yeah? You know them?

Jaida🩵: yeah I do actually, just be careful Leia. They seem friendly and kind but one wrong move your done

That filled her with trepidation, for what Jaida had just conveyed—what could she possibly mean by that? Now, she must tread with utmost caution and vigilance in their presence, especially after having seen that text message from her.

Leia🌺: wym??

Jaida🩵: you’ll find out sooner or later couldn’t believe your father would do something like that to his own daughter

Leia🌺: I’m so confused here Jaida

Jaida🩵: look bestie you’ll find out soon enough okay?

She chose not to persist in inquiring about the circumstances, opting instead to let it be, which left her mind in a state of confusion and feeling excluded from the unfolding events.

Leia🌺: aight…but I’m going to go workout I’ll text you later

Jaida🩵: okay girl be safe and ily

Leia🌺: I love you too

With that, Soleia made her way to her suitcase in search of her workout attire, her thoughts drifting curiously to the events that transpired during her blackout in the backseat.

And what could her closest companion possibly mean by expressing disbelief that her father had committed such an act against her? What exactly had he done? She craved answers, yet she would have to be patient for the time being. As she was in the process of changing her attire, a sudden knock on the door interrupted her, causing her to halt mid-change as she invited the visitor to enter.

It was Jey coming in to check up on her.

“Hey, I was just checking in on you.” Jey said.

“Oh, I was just going to head to the gym down in the basement if that was okay?” Soleia replied.

“You good little mama, I think my brother will be down there just to give you a heads up.” She assumed right that was his brother as she nodded her head

She prayed in her mind that when she goes down there that it wouldn’t be awkward with him and her down there working out, “So Soleia where you from originally?”

“I’m originally from Atlanta but my dad got custody over me so we moved down there to Louisiana.”

“So an ATL girl I’m assuming.”

She chucked at him, “something like that but ion really go out as much since I’m always at work and tired after a long shift.” He nodded his head in agreement, understanding that feeling especially with being a wrestler doing matches and gambling most of the time.

“Yeah I feel you on that.” He replied.

“You wrestle or something it looks like it.” She says.

“Yeah, I am actually surprised you know something about it.”

Soleia shrugged her shoulders, “I mean I just only heard rumors that yall like to gamble for money and stuff.”

“Well those rumors are definitely true but we don’t do it often, only ever once in blue moon.”

“Gotta have something in your pockets.” She effortlessly transformed into her workout attire within the confines of the bathroom, skillfully securing her hair into a casual bun with a hair clip. Upon exiting the bathroom, she found Jey comfortably seated on her bed.

She elegantly seized her wireless headphones along with her Stanley cup brimming with chilled water, and her phone, ensuring she could seamlessly connect her wireless headphones to it.

“Damn you came prepared.” Jey joked.

“It’s nothing really, probably just going to run on the treadmill and do some simple stretches before dinner.” Soleia replied as she had seen Jey opening up the door for her like a gentleman.

Soleia was about to walk out until she heard Jey say something to her.

“By the way don’t worry about my brother, he’s nonchalant and cold so I wouldn’t pay him any mind.” She nodded her head as she walked towards the basement where the gym was at.

As she engaged in her activity, she noticed Jey's twin brother diligently exercising on the bench, performing his bench press, completely absorbed in his workout with his wireless headphones on, oblivious to her presence as she mirrored his actions.

She gracefully approached the treadmill, carefully positioning it within the cup holder, alongside her phone resting on the opposite side. As she adorned her head with wireless headphones, she gently nudged them aside to reach for her phone, eager to launch her Apple Music and indulge in the melodies from her curated playlist.

In the meantime, Jimmy had detected her fragrance from a considerable distance, even before she descended to this place. He paused his bench press routine, carefully placing the metal bar back on the rack, as he observed her every single movement.

He observed how her workout attire accentuated her curves exquisitely, with her derrière appearing delightfully rounded in her leggings, which left him feeling constrained in his shorts. Nevertheless, he succeeded in pushing those thoughts aside as he watched her stride towards the treadmill, immersed in her music.

He rose from the bench, delicately wiping the perspiration from his brow as he savored a sip of water before making his way to the dumbbells. He seized one of the weights and commenced his sets, alternating arms while observing her reflection in the mirror—it was as if he were attempting to decipher her thoughts, yet her mind remained inscrutable.

‘She’s pretty as fuck’ As he concentrated on his workouts, those were the thoughts occupying his mind. He found it impossible to avert his gaze from her figure, particularly the way her curves moved enticingly in those leggings while she gracefully ran on the treadmill.

Until he heard his brother mind-linking with him.

“Damn staring as much twin?”

He rolled his eyes, “I wasn’t staring at nun you just trippin’”

“Twin, I saw you stare at her and literally called her pretty dawg, don't try to manipulate me.”

At present, he and Trinity find themselves entangled in a situationship. The ongoing tension and disputes between them escalated to such an extent that it became physical, leading to a relationship that has now devolved into mere physical intimacy.

“What’chu think of her twin?”

“She cool I guess.”

He heard his brother smacking his lips, “stop acting so nonchalant, I think little mama is a cool girl who stays to herself and goes to work.”

“You already gave her a nickname?”

He was taken aback that his brother bestowed a nickname upon her so quickly, especially since they had only just met today. What was it about Soleia that inspired such familiarity?

“Yeah, she cool as fuck though. You need to holla at her for real.”

Jimmy shakes his head, “nah, I’m good besides I got Trin.”

“That’s toxic ass shit? Don’t you get tired of that cycle with her?”

“Yeah, but if the pussy good I’m staying.”

Jimmy observed Soleia halting the treadmill to take a refreshing sip from her Stanley cup before removing her hoodie, which was part of her workout attire. As she did so, Jimmy found himself pausing for a moment, captivated by her figure. The way her skin shimmered in the soft glow of the gym light made him instinctively lick his lips.

“She’s got your attention uce.”

“Fuck, she sure do.”

She gracefully approached the area where he was seated, carefully placing her hoodie and Stanley cup on one of the benches, along with her phone. As their eyes met once more, she offered him a gentle smile, then glided past him, leaving him captivated by her enchanting fragrance, which stirred a wild desire within him, making him acutely aware of his arousal, yearning to break free from the confines of his shorts.

Soleia seized a pair of dumbbells, gracefully positioning herself as she lowered her body, then lifted her chest while executing her dumbbell squats—Jimmy observed her technique, noting its perfection, a sight he had never encountered before as she maintained her steady pace.

“You gon’ keep staring at her or say something twin.”

“Nah, I’m good Trin will kill me if I do.”

“Maneee fuck her, you got a pretty ass girl right there in front of you that could probably treat you better than Trin. Maybe even let you get a taste.”

He could detect her fragrance wafting tantalizingly close, his senses yearning for a taste of her blood at this very moment; however, he had to maintain his poise, not wishing to frighten the young lady.

“She does smell good though, but doesn’t she know that her father sold her to us?”

“I don’t think she did. She was black out when they had dropped her off and gave us the money before leaving.”

“Damn poor baby doesn’t even know, she’ll find out eventually.”

Jimmy couldn't help but admire her figure in those leggings, captivated by the way she moved up and down during her sets. It stirred something within him—provoking tantalizing thoughts about how perfectly he would fit inside her.

He could tell that she was flexible.

“Twin, keep your nasty ass thought to yo’ self dawg.”

“How about you stay out of my head aight?”

Once he observed that she had completed her set, she elegantly returned the dumbbells to the rack alongside the others. Sweat cascaded down her forehead, prompting her to wipe it away as she indulged in another sip of water.

Soleia elegantly secured her hoodie around her waist, clutching her phone and Stanley cup in one hand. As she gracefully passed by Jimmy once more, she remained oblivious to his presence, acutely aware of his gaze following her. With poise, she ascended the stairs to indulge in a refreshing shower.

Jimmy glanced at the time on his phone, noticing it was nearly dinner, prompting him to conclude his set before the meal.

“Could’ve said something to her.”

“She wasn’t even paying me no mind twin, but her smile is pretty too fucking pretty can’t be around that.”

“Yeah, because you’re a horny fuck that’s why.”

He shook his head at his brother's comment while finishing up his set.

—

Soleia found herself in her room, engrossed in a show on the screen, when she noticed her mouth was parched. She resolved to fill her Stanley cup with water—pausing the show as she made her way downstairs to the kitchen. However, before she could reach her destination, she was startled by the faint sounds of moans emanating from somewhere nearby.

She cautiously peeked her head around the corner, having spotted Jey's brother lounging on the couch downstairs, his hand engaged in a rather intimate act—her eyes widened in astonishment at the impressive size before her. Not wishing to disturb him, she silently descended the steps, making her way toward the kitchen.

Yet, he could already perceive her presence, even as she feigned ignorance of him, delicately lifting the lid of her Stanley cup to pour water within. The sound of a deep, primal moan slipping from his lips sent delightful shivers coursing down her spine.

“Fuck, I’m finna cum.” That’s all she heard from his voice.

She found herself in a delicate charade, acting as if he were not in the living room, his hand moving rhythmically over his member while she was in attendance. After caressing her cup, she switched off the water and replaced the lid on the cup.

She entered one of the cabinets to retrieve a snack prior to ascending the stairs to enjoy her show. She took hold of her snack while gently shutting the cabinet door, then turned to exit. In that moment, she inadvertently collided with him, prompting her to gaze up at him with her cherubic expression.

He looked so imitating it scared her causing her to look down at her feet.

“I didn’t mean to bump into you, I-I’ll pay attention next time.” She was very soft spoken but also shy and nervous.

That’s when he spoke, “look at me babydoll.” She looked deeply into his brown eyes as he reciprocated the gaze, finally able to behold the beautiful face he had longed to see since her father had sold her. And indeed, she appeared absolutely breathtaking in person.

His voice resonated with a deep richness akin to luxurious honey as he spoke to her. Wasn't it Jey who described him as indifferent and aloof? She nervously bit her lower lip, nearly succumbing to her emotions, which elicited a smirk from him, amused by her bashfulness.

“Be careful next time doll, aight?” She inclined her head, not wishing to obstruct his path, while reminding herself of his cold demeanor, which indicated he was utterly insufferable, and she simply had no time for such nonsense.

She inclined her head, not wishing to obstruct his path, while reminding herself of his cold demeanor, which indicated he was utterly insufferable, and she simply had no time for such nonsense.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” Soleia said to herself while walking over towards her bed while placing her Stanley cup on the mini dresser next to her.

She inclined her head, not wishing to obstruct his path, while reminding herself of his cold demeanor, which indicated he was utterly insufferable, and she simply had no time for such nonsense.

She grabbed her phone and immediately texted Jaida.

Leia🌺: bitch

Jaida🩵: what happened are you okay?

Leia🌺: yes I’m fine but I just caught Jey’s brother jerking off in the living room

Jaida🩵: WHAT??? WAS IT BIG?

She couldn’t help herself but admit that it was big and it was pretty, especially his mushroom tip.

Leia🌺: yesss it was big and pretty Jaida

Jaida🩵: ouuuu girl remember what I told you about them be careful ion need you to get hurt

Leia🌺: I’ll be okay bestie besides I’m staying out the way and just going to work

Jaida🩵: period is there mansion like big or?

Leia🌺: it’s hella huge honestly when Jey showed me around the place and they have a pool too

Jaida🩵: that’s the Fatu’s for you but still wouldn’t trust them until you get some information about what happened so keep your guard up.

Leia🌺: oh I will

Jaida🩵: so is Jimmy mean or what?

Jimmy? That was his name? Interesting.

Leia🌺: that’s his name?

Jaida🩵: he didn’t tell you?

Leia🌺: no he’s been giving me the cold shoulder especially when he’s around some girl

Jaida🩵: oh that’s Trinity, don’t worry about her she’s very he and her are like in a situationship rn

Leia🌺: oh like the toxic ones I suppose, yeah most definitely staying away from him

Jaida🩵: yeah once she sees him with someone else that’s not her she’ll lose her shit completely

Leia🌺: ohhhh she one of them yeah I’ll rather hang out with Jey than him don’t want no problems

Jaida🩵: most definitely but you tryna head to the club tmr night?

Leia🌺: omggg yes I need to be out anyways.

Jaida🩵: kk be ready around nine thirty okay?

Leia🌺: aight bestie I’ll see you tmr

Jaida🩵: see you tmr 🫶🏽

With that, Soleia set her phone on the charger beside her in bed, gracefully opening her snacks while she continued to indulge in her show on the screen until slumber overtook her.

In the meantime, Jimmy found himself restless in bed, sighing deeply as thoughts of Soleia consumed him. Her grace and poise captivated him, making him realize that this was the connection he truly desired, rather than his relationship with Trin.

Especially the way she was all nervous and shy around him made him feel some type of way but she was just someone who’s father had sold her off to some vampires. She wasn’t that special right?

“You thinking about her aren’t you?” Here he goes.

“Can you not be in my thoughts right now?”

“Nah, because yo’ ass can’t sleep without thinking about Soleia dawg.”

Jimmy found himself in a state of denial regarding his thoughts of Soleia while he was with Trin; she was all he ever required until Soleia's unexpected arrival began to deeply unsettle his mind. It was as if he craved something novel and invigorating.

“She’s not that important, she’s just pretty face that’s all.”

“You saying that while beating your meat just an hour ago thinking about her twin c’mon I know you.”

“I’ma have to start shutting off my mind whenever your near.” However, his twin brother was not mistaken; he found himself indulging in self-pleasure merely at the thought of Soleia, despite having uttered not a single word to her. Yet, she had already ensnared him into actions he typically reserves only for Trin.

The mere thought of Soleia sent a surge of desire through him, and the proximity they shared when she accidentally collided with him was intoxicating—she resembled a delicate doe, both in her beauty and in the graceful way she navigated her surroundings without disturbing a soul.

He could sense his rigid member pressing uncomfortably against his shorts as he gazed at Trin, who was resting serenely on his chest, prompting him to mutter curses under his breath.

“Finna go handle that.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Aye don’t get mad at me because you thinking about little mama, twin she got you hooked without even doing anything.”

Jimmy gently shifted Trin away from him as he entered their bathroom, quietly closing the door behind him. He flicked on the lights and approached the mirror, noticing his impressive arousal evident through his shorts. He then made his way to the toilet, sitting down and lowering his shorts along with his black boxers, feeling the weight of his long nine-inch cock resting against his stomach.

A glistening pre-cum trickled from the tip as he moistened his hand and began to caress his cock with a deliberate slowness. Trin was far from his thoughts; his mind was solely occupied with visions of Soleia and the way she appeared during her workout today.

The manner in which her derrière swayed in those pink leggings while she was jogging on the treadmill today left him pondering the possibilities of what she could accomplish with such a captivating figure.

He envisions her arching her back against him, as he observes her form bouncing against his hips while he gently tugs at her hair, bringing her to the brink, their tongues entwined, captivated by the sight of her beautiful face, all sultry and pouting as he immerses himself in her warmth.

He was acutely aware of her undeniable arousal and the allure of her exquisite femininity—Jimmy felt an overwhelming desire to indulge in her depths as he watched her descend the stairs, feigning ignorance to his lascivious act.

“Mhm, fuck mama. you don’t know what you doing to me.” Jimmy moaned softly while stroking his cock.

He yearned to indulge her to the point of utter surrender, desiring to savor her essence, to leave his mark upon her with his incisive fangs, claiming her as his exclusive possession. Yet, he felt no compulsion to act on these desires, for he had Trin, did he not?

He desired to possess her completely, pushing her to the brink of tears and pleading for him to cease, all while he held her tightly—her cries echoing his name, urging him to continue their passionate encounter.

He imagined delving into every conceivable aspect with her—tenderly grasping her hair, kissing her fervently as if he had never done so sufficiently, particularly encouraging her to arch her back solely for his pleasure.

He dampened his lips and drew them inward as he rushed forward, his hand gliding quickly, causing his legs to quiver with frailty.

Jimmy hastened his steps, tilting his head back in sheer delight, his eyes rolling as he playfully nibbled on his lower lip.

“Fuckkk.”

Jimmy experienced his legs buckle beneath him, his muscles tightening as his arousal surged, gripping himself more firmly, fully conscious that he was teetering on the edge of ecstasy.

He yearned for her company at this very moment, wishing to embellish her stunning visage with his tender essence, crafting a creation that was truly magnificent.

He sensed his muscles contracting and his thighs firming as he maintained a deliberate rhythm around his member, leading him into a whirlwind of sensations.

As he hastened his steps, he sensed a strengthening grip, his thumb gliding effortlessly over the tip. A soft moan slipped from his lips, uttering her name, as his body quivered.

His eyes flew open as a surge of tension seized his abdomen, indicating that he was mere moments from attaining his climax.

“Oh fuck, fuckk.” He murmured gently as he hastened his stride, sensing his muscles tighten while remaining still.

In the recesses of his thoughts, her voice resonated, calling him daddy, her soft-spoken words lingering in the air. "Are you going to cum for me, daddy?" he replied in a deep, husky tone, "Y-yes, mamas, I’m about to release, baby. Daddy is about to release for you." A low moan escaped his lips, accompanied by a deep growl.

He envisioned her presence, delicately caressing him while he observed her actions, her innocent gaze fixed upon him, accompanied by that familiar gentle whisper in his mind, "make a mess on my hands daddy, I wanna lick all up." In that instant, his body responded with intense waves of warmth coursing through him, plunging him into a euphoric state of bliss. "Damn, I’m about to cum, oh damn, I’m about to cum." A soft moan slipped from his lips as he descended from his peak. Jimmy's breaths became heavy, his heart racing as he felt the heat radiating from his body.

Jimmy had observed his hand enveloped in his warm, thick essence as he reached for the toilet paper beside him to cleanse his hands—he rose from the toilet, discarding the paper into the bowl as he activated the flush.

He meticulously washed his hands afterward, ensuring cleanliness, before extinguishing the lights in the bathroom. However, he felt compelled to check on Soleia, curious about her activities. As Jimmy opened his bedroom door, he noticed that Soleia's television was still aglow while he made his way toward her door.

Jimmy gently twisted the doorknob, peering into her room where he found her peacefully asleep, her gaze lost in the flickering screen, snacks carelessly left open beside her. He paused, contemplating whether to retreat, yet an inexplicable force compelled him to step inside as he moved silently into the room.

He observed her engrossed in her beloved series, Bridgerton, on Netflix, which elicited a soft chuckle from him. With a graceful motion, he seized the remote control and switched off the television. He then took her chips, rolled them up, and placed them beside her on the petite dresser. As he gently repositioned her to the center of the bed, he ensured she wouldn’t tumble off the edge.

However, he found it impossible to resist the temptation to position himself between her legs, taking great care not to disturb her slumber as he inhaled her intoxicating fragrance—his nose gently grazing her neck while he planted a tender kiss upon it, causing her to stir in her dreams.

That’s when he snapped out of it.

What the fuck is he doing? All that occupied his mind was the thought of her as he stepped back, gently draping the blanket over her form, tenderly brushing her hair aside to admire her features more clearly.

He attempted to delve into her thoughts, yet he found himself unable to penetrate their depths, which left him profoundly frustrated.

“I can’t hear what you’re thinking doll, that frustrates me.” He whispered gently while placing a kiss on her forehead before getting off of the bed.

He was about to leave when he heard her softly murmur in her sleep, pleading not to go and to leave her be. He dismissed it as merely a reflection of her troubled dreams, nothing more.

“Papa..,don’t leave me…” She mumbled in her sleep.

Jimmy began to feel a sense of pity for her, as she was completely unaware of the circumstances surrounding her. Her father had merely sold her to them out of financial desperation. However, this was not Jimmy's concern as he exited her room, making his way towards his own.

He gently closed the door behind him as he nestled back into bed beside Trin, who was sleeping soundly. The sight of her peaceful slumber compelled him to draw her closer to his body, yet his mind was consumed with thoughts of Soleia and the tantalizing moment when he nearly tasted her blood upon his lips.

But he managed to control him until his twin brother said something.

“You’re attracted to her twin, literally almost got a taste of her.”

“It ain’t even like that, I just wasn’t in the right headspace.”

“If it wasn’t like that then why go in her room then? Seems like to me her scent is getting to you.”

He rolled his eyes, “nah you trippin’”

“Whatever dawg, I know she can treat you better than Trin I mean that’s the main reason why you’re so cold hearted and nonchalant it’s because of that toxic ass cycle yall got going on.”

Jimmy was not always this way until he encountered Trin during the formative phases of their careers—their bond was consistently harmonious and devoid of any toxic energy. However, that fateful night when he discovered Trin being unfaithful with one of his friends shattered his spirit.

For several months, they refrained from communicating after he ended their relationship. However, after a year or two, she reached out to him, inquiring if they could begin anew. He consented, sensing that she had transformed.

The experience was delightful the second time, until her self-absorption and jealousy surfaced whenever he conversed with another woman who was not her. She would unjustly accuse him of actions he would never consider. This led him to suspect that she might be unfaithful once more; however, he chose to remain and simply suggested that they could engage in a physical relationship from that point forward, as he felt a strong attachment to her.

And Trin had him completely ensnared, unlike anyone else, transforming their relationship into a complex situationship. He found himself battling inner demons, all while undergoing a profound change due to her influence.

But now seeing Soleia living with them it started to mess with his head now.

“What makes shawty different than Trin?”

“Like I told you, Little mama is pretty and stays to herself and has a good career. She could show you something different.”

Jimmy observed that Soleia tends to keep to herself, often retreating to her room, distancing herself from everyone, including him.

“I already saw Takecia visions, she even drew it on a blank sheet of paper, you and shawty gonna be together and she’s a lover twin.”

Takecia's visions were not consistently precise, as they had the tendency to fluctuate from time to time; however, it was possible for them to be accurate, though he remained uncertain.

“You know her visions aren’t always true twin.”

“Yeah, but this one could be true. You just need to wait and see. I mean little mama already got you in a chokehold without even trying.”

Jimmy was acutely aware, deep within, that his twin was correct; however, he found himself in a state of denial. His attachment to Trinity was so profound that it felt as though he was compelled to remain by her side.

“Look I’m finna head to sleep we will talk about this later twin.”

“A’ight then Twin.”

—

Soleia stirred from her extended slumber, surveying her surroundings. She observed that the television was off and felt the soft blanket enveloping her. As she rose from the bed, she gracefully discarded the blanket and reached for her phone, which lay beside her, to check the time.

At the stroke of midnight, she let out a deep sigh while reaching for her snacks, intending to return them to the cabinets. She opened her door slightly, peering out to find everyone in slumber, before gracefully stepping out of her bedroom and making her way downstairs to the kitchen.

As she approached the kitchen, she rose onto her tippy toes to return her snacks, preparing to take them along for lunch when she heads to work later in the afternoon. She shut the cabinets, having heard footsteps entering the kitchen, which startled her. Swiftly, she turned around to find him standing there, arms crossed and hair tousled.

She experienced a sense of fear and intimidation as she pressed herself against the kitchen counter, deliberately avoiding eye contact with him, just as she often does.

“What’chu doing up?” Jimmy asked as his voice was raspy and deep when he spoke.

“Oh I was just putting up my snacks…I’m sorry if I woke you up.” Soleia replied while looking down at her feet as she was fiddling with the hem of her pajama pants.

He found it endearing that she appeared anxious in his presence as she prepared to ascend the steps. He gently pulled her by the waist, capturing her attention as she glanced at him for a brief moment.

“You good just don’t do that again aight? Don’t need you waking up nobody else.” She felt a sense of intimidation in his presence, his icy demeanor sending shivers down her spine as she nodded in acquiescence. He released his grip on her waist, allowing her to ascend the stairs, his gaze lingering on her as she made her way up.

He felt compelled to maintain this icy facade to avoid forming any emotional ties with her, as he had relocated Trinity and would go to any lengths for her. Meanwhile, Soleia quietly closed the door behind her as she nestled back into her bed.

Draping the blanket over her form, as the night promised to be brisk, her mind was consumed with thoughts of his gaze upon her and the chill that enveloped him. It unsettled her profoundly, wishing fervently that their paths would not cross again.

She recalls Jaida advising her to keep her distance, particularly when he is in the company of his girlfriend, and that is precisely what she intends to do—maintain her distance to avoid any unnecessary drama.

Soleia nestled into her bed, lying on her side, her eyes gently closing as she drifted back into slumber; tomorrow promised to be a lengthy day ahead.

Midnight Sin.

a/n: ngl I feel like midnight sin will help me with my writers block I had with moon bound

but I hope yall enjoy this chapter lmk in the comments.

STAY UCEY.

chapter two

introductions

#black fanfic writer #black oc #black writers #wwelove #wwe fanfiction #jimmy uso x oc #jimmy uso smut #jimmy uso fanfic #jimmy uso fanfiction #jimmyuso #jimmy uso x black oc #midnightsin💗

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cameoliob · 3 months ago

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Hiii, I loved reading Companion! Can I ask for all your headcanons about Kallus' childhood friend, Sailyn? There were only a couple of lines about her in the fic, but I already like her :D

SAY NO MORRREEEEE

(and I shall preface that Sailyn is, ofc, very intrgrated with my Kallus upbringing HCs, so we're about to get A LITTLE BIT OBSCURE)

This girl here is Sailyn!

Sailyn and Kallus were the childhood best friends to ever best friend, TRUST

I kind of alluded to this in the fic, but she and Kallus met when they were really young because Anya (Kallus' sister / psudo mom) very breifly worked at the neighborhood bodega that Sailyns parents owned, and leaving small children home alone in a dangerous neighborhood is usually advised against, so for Anya, every day was take your kid to work day.

The thing with the lower levels is that there isn't really a community; there arent places to really go, or things ot really do, and sure you can go out and like... meet people on the street and in the store and stuff, but its hard to gain trust like that. The lower levels are a dog-eat-dog world, and you never really know who's going to turn around and fuck you over if it gets them a few credits. Living in the lower levels is lonely, and an abundance of friends isn't really a commodity that kids down there are allowed.

So Sailyn and Kallus were kind of thick as theives just cause there weren't really any other options, you know?

In their high-school years, when they attended the same mid-level high school, (which Kallus attended because Anya went to that school before moving to the lower levels and she believes that a good education is v important, and which Sailyn attended because her parents wanted her to go to a good school so that she could eventually take over the family buissness someday), they only got closer; as two of the only kids from the lower levels, they kind of had to lean on each others shoulders to get by, yk?

When Anya passes shortly after Kallus' 18th birthday, Kallus kind of hits rock bottom. He's devastated, of course, and Sailyn tries to be there for him as much as she can, but in the lower levels, properly greiving isn't a luxury that many people are afforded. In the lower levels it doesn't matter if your entire family died tragically, you still have to go to work tomorrow because god knows you need the hours.

Eventually Kallus enlists to get away from the lower levels, and usually he's busy with his studies, and figuring out how to negivate the upper-level world, but he and Sailyn still hang out when they can, even if it's not often.

(Sailyn (19) giving Xsandr (19) guyliner before they go to the Clerb)

Eventually, though, as Kallus nears graduation they fall out of contact. Kallus is busy with his studies, and Sailyn is busy taking up the family buissness.

Even twenty years after they last spoke, Kallus would be lying if he said he didn't think about her every once in a while

#mlm & wlw friendship superiority #and yk what tbh they'd be in love if they weren't both gay asf #And I wouldn't even blame Kallus because like look at her #anyways they're cuties #agent kallus #alexsandr kallus #kallus #star wars rebels #star wars #rebels #swr

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percywinchester27 · 7 months ago

Text

The new Mrs. Winchester (18)

Word count: 3.1K

Pairing: Sam X Reader AU

Chapter warnings: Implications of sexual abuse, mentions of torture, PTSD, angst, flesh trade, language, mention of violence; reader discretion is strongly advised.

Series Summary: After spending over two years in captivity, and enduring assault, torture, and degradation of every kind, Y/N is finally sold off to the highest bidder. But when the deal is masked as a hushed marriage to a wealthy and powerful man, Y/N knows it means a few more nights of brutal torment ending in certain death. After all, why else would a man like him, want someone like her, except to fulfill desires so depraved that they would require owning a person. However, the Winchester mansion has mysteries of its own, woven in lies, betrayal, and death. Smack in the middle of it, she finds both hope and a home, in the person she least expected to find it with. But when it comes down to it, will she be able to save the thing that matters the most?

A/N: Really slowly, but we are getting there ;)

Beta: My darling @deanssweetheart23

With your back to the damp wall, you stared at the mouldy ceiling. Sick green patches had bloomed all over it, giving the appearance of an ugly, mossy carpet. A guard had thrown two blankets over your body. Amazing the difference that warmth could make to the mind’s functioning.

Thirteen men so far.

The pins had been removed from your heels, and now littered on the cell’s floor. Using the sharp point of one you made thirteen lines on the wall, then a fourteenth one. The guard from the first night should also count. But so should Nick, then.

Rage, the sort that could scorch the earth whole erupted inside you. A few days was all it took for the shock to turn into horror, then grief and finally rage. That monster was the reason Danny and Jamie were being held hostage. But they were safe. You had gathered your marbles and spent every minute since your recapture vigorously trying to understand the extent of your situation to the last detail. First: You were a commodity, with investment already put in place. If you behaved as instructed, you could avoid the worst of bodily harm, at least, from the captors’ side. The boss– a shudder ran through your body, in cold fear– wouldn’t let his men touch you… only the clients and him. The first assault from a guard was a one-time thing and would never be repeated, now that you knew all the rules. So, as an investment, you would be taken care of. Physical injuries would obviously reduce the value of the goods.

Second: The kids were safe for now. The business didn’t deal with murdering children for fun, they were only a security and not a purposeful target. No one would ever go out of their way to hurt them. As long as you followed instructions, they would be untouched and well-educated.

Third: You could manage and escape, but you wouldn’t even try now and everyone knew that. They managed high-end clientele and you were specifically chosen for being well-educated, where you could entertain body and mind.

A possibility emerged from all the analysis. If you managed to stay alive for a few decades here, they wouldn’t want anything to do with a wrinkled woman. Then, instead of killing you, they might turn you onto the streets.

A rattling cough sounded from the adjoining cell. In the afternoon, when they’d taken you upstairs for the man in the hideous purple suit, the cell had been empty. Noises could only mean one thing– you weren’t the newest piece for sale anymore.

Gripping the bars, you hoisted yourself up, still in pain, and banged on the wall. No one was on duty in the passageways at that time. The girl must have mirrored you, for you could see the tips of her fingers if you craned your neck.

“Don’t resist,” you whispered. “They’ll get you one way or another. It’s no use.”

She spat. “You can give up. But I won’t. I’ll find a way of getting out of here.”

You didn’t mind her derision. Rather, a sadness gripped your heart at her confidence, at the fight she harboured. You were just the same once.

Sliding back, you bit back a shriek of pain. Everything hurt and you didn’t know if you would be ready to deal with more by tomorrow.

“Where… where are we?” She asked, voice shaky. “Which way is the exit?”

“We’re in Texas, near the border to New Mexico. This is the second basement and the exit is on the third right by the parallel passageway. Two guards are always stationed there. If you get past it, you’ll exit on a mile-long driveway and about two miles to the east of its end, you’ll find a bus stop.”

A sharp intake of breath.

“I managed to escape once,” you told her. “Almost made it into the bus, too.”

“So, there is a way out?”

You didn’t want to repeat words of hopelessness to her. In her own time, she would know how impossible it was.

Michael came rattling the bars and you pressed up against the wall, scared of the smirk on his face. But he stopped before your cell, in front of hers.

“C’mon, Darling, it’s showtime,” he sneered. She must have spat in his face because the next minute you heard the clanging of the door being opened and then a slap, followed by a crash.

“You better watch it, bitch!”

“My boyfriend will rip you to pieces!” She screamed.

“Oh, really?” Another slap.

A sob broke free of your lips. That poor girl had also trusted a man and ended up here. You knew the drill, the water hoses, followed by nights of torment where she would worry sick about the guy before they would drop the truth on her of who really sold her.

“T-Take me!” The words left your lips, and then you couldn’t take them back. “Leave her. I’ll go again tonight.”

“My… my… how touching,,.” Michael came around to your cell. “Such a princess move! You know I’m not picky. If you want to get some more tonight, be my guest.” He opened your door and yanked you out. Slowly, you moved past her and registered nothing but her big brown eyes, before Michael poked you in the back. “After you, your royal highness.”

*****

“Would you like honey in your coffee, Miss?”

You craned your neck up to squint at her. “Honey? In coffee?”

“Yes,” said Abby. “Mr. Winchester has been taking it in his and it seems to have made all the difference.”

“Abby, the only thing that could make any difference to his coffee is throwing that whole jar away.”

She giggled quietly and added a single sugar cube to yours. You registered her mild tone. There seemed to have been a colossal shift in her attitude towards Sam. You wouldn’t be the one to complain, but regretted having missed the phenomenon.

“Mrs Winchester!” Sarah, the other maid on Wednesday’s wait staff barged into the room. “Ma’am, you need to come down, people have come asking for Mr Winchester.”

Sharing a confused look with Abby, you followed Sarah downstairs and then steeled yourself to find most of the board in the dining room, seated at the table.

“Mr Singer, it's wonderful to see you here,” you greeted Bobby and then the other members, most of whom were Sam’s cousins. “Sam isn’t home at the moment. What can I help you with?”

Sam hadn’t been home for a while now, away on business as he was.

“You can’t help here,” said Christian, but he didn’t appear surprised in the least to not find Sam at home. “It’s a board matter.”

None of the Campbells had ever spoken to you directly. Not Christian or even Gwen, but she was glaring at you now.

“Why, I think I deserve to know.”

“If you insist then,” he said, tilting his head. “The board has decided by a majority to remove Sam Winchester as the CEO. Considering the share of all present parties, the majority percentage agrees to instant dismissal.”

Your heart started pumping faster in your chest, but you managed to murmur, “How does that work?”

Christian seemed to be the spokesperson here. “Removing Sam’s forty per cent leaves sixty per cent. Bobby here refuses to agree–” a sneer in his direction– “ That leaves a majority of the shares with us! Is it simple enough for you, Y/N?”

You jerked at being called by your name by anyone other than Sam. However, you held your ground. “Doesn’t leave sixty per cent.”

“Excuse me?” Gwen stepped up.

“I said, removing Sam’s share, doesn’t leave sixty per cent. It leaves eighty. A week ago he transferred half of his shares to mine.”

A rumble ran through the assembled men. Apparently, the share transfer hadn’t been put up on a bulletin board.

“That’s still what? Twenty to–”

“Twenty-five,” grumbled Bobby. “Don’t go forgetting this old man, Campbell.”

Christian was losing it now. “Fine, big deal. It’s still twenty-five to thirty-five. About time that Sam and his new bride packed up and left.”

At your startled look, Gwen grinned. “Didn’t you know, Darlin’? The mansion’s run by a trust, no majority, no house.”

You looked about yourself, missing Sam in your bones. Insanely, while sitting at the dining table, of all people you thought of Han. The snapping, the hostile looks in everyone’s eyes reminded you of his words: “Lady, if you run into the wolves, I’ll be afraid for them.” You wanted to be that brave girl now, the one unafraid of wolves. And just like that you were homesick for him. He’d promised to come when you needed help, needed him– lamp or no lamp.

And here you were about to be thrown out when Sam wasn’t even home.

The doors of the dining hall were thrown open and you jerked up in your seat. As if in a fever dream you saw Han saunter into the living room, boots, leather jacket, muddy jeans and all, as if he didn’t have a care in the world.

As he passed by your chair, he lightly ruffled the top of your hair briefly, then pulled the chair beside yours and fell on it. “Hey, Chewie!” He grinned, completely disregarding that every chair apart from his and yours had scraped and now everyone else was on their feet, emotions ranging from shock to being thunderstruck. He put his muddy boots up on the table over crossed ankles. The soles directly faced Christian.

You made a move to get up as well, but he placed a hand on yours to hold you there. You couldn’t help but gauge everyone’s reaction. Out by the brook, on your pier, holding Han’s hand would be the most natural thing in the world, but not only did he seem completely out of place here amidst these men in suits, but he also didn’t seem to care… at all. And you didn’t know if you did, as Mark Campbell’s eyes moved from Han’s face to his hand on yours. Be that as it may, you were still magnanimously glad that he was here for you.

“So, Christian, I heard you were harassing this young lady?” Said Han, eyes sharp. “Old habits die hard, huh?”

A slight panic started to rise in your throat. You didn’t want any of these people to be disrespectful to your friend, be horrible to him, because they were perfectly capable of it.

“Ha–” you started, but he tightened the grip on your hand, and you understood his signal to be quiet.

No one had found their voices yet and were still gawking at Han as if he were some extra-terrestrial being.

In the end, Bobby cleared his throat and put a hand on your friend’s shoulder. “It’s good to see you, son.”

Han turned his face to meet Bobby’s gaze and you couldn’t see the expression on it anymore, but Bobby’s eyes became tender and he let go. When Han faced Christian again, the steel was back in his voice. “ Explain the math to me again, will you?”

“Y-you can’t just come back again and… and…”

“And what? Explain it like a five-year-old to you?” Han smirked. “Did you leave all of my twenty per cent out? Guess it doesn’t take the MBA that you don’t have to figure out forty-five is a bigger number than thirty-five, huh?”

“You, son of a bitch,” hissed Christian, putting his palms on the table. “You think you can disappear to God knows where and then turn up now to–”

For the second time, the door to the dining room opened and Sam stumbled in. At first, his gaze fell on the assembly as a whole, then he did a double take at Han, eyes going wide and wider by the second, until they dropped to your entwined hands and back up again, at your face first and back to the man next to you. You saw him rock a little on his feet and then go very still.

You yanked your hand back, but you needn’t have because Han let go, too, and got to his feet. You fully appreciated how tall he was, also. It seemed like an eternity passed between them as they stood staring at one another and slowly, very slowly the situation truly sank in your comprehension.

Castiel followed after Sam and froze, too, then exclaimed, “Dean!”

With shaky feet, you stood up, realising how wrongly you had interpreted the entire situation. The board members weren’t shocked at the appearance of an alien person in their midst. Rather they were incensed at the entry of the strongest contender in the game save for Sam himself.

This man was Dean. Your Han was Dean Winchester.

“Cas,” Bobby warned, and Castiel schooled his expression. “Move along then, people,” Bobby raised his voice. “I believe the matter is settled. Let the family have some privacy.” But the men didn’t seem to want to move, as if they were also caught in the power of the unbroken gaze, expecting a shouting match… eager for it. And maybe they weren’t far off, because you knew Sam’s clenched jaw and Dean’s steely eyes.

“Move now!” Bobby snapped and slowly the board filed out of the room. Cas, the last to leave, closed the door behind him with a look of apprehension.

Your breath caught.

Time unfroze then.

Suddenly, Sam crossed the room and closed the distance in between to engulf his brother in a tight hug. Dean hugged him back fiercely, eyes an ocean of emotions– pain, longing, love. And Sam? You had seen him stressed, worried, even vulnerable… but never like this, never seen him close his eyes so tight and simply let go. The weight he seemed to carry on his shoulders all the time, seemed to evaporate in a second and you could see in him the man who was only twenty-nine, without the responsibility of the world to pull him down.

They broke apart, eyes still roving each other's faces for a minute, before Sam turned to you, grinning. “Dean,” he said, voice lighter than a breeze, “This is Y/N. And Y/N, this… this is my brother, Dean.”

He took a step in your direction, but you moved back, flattening yourself against the wall. “Don’t… don’t come close to me.”

“Y/N?”

Sam’s brow furrowed.

You inched further away, pointing a finger at him. “You got me good, Sam. You got me real good. You and your brother. Did you plan every second of it? And for how long? For two years, is it? For two years you’ve made a fool of the whole world… no bigger fool than me, though. Brilliantly executed good cop- bad cop routine.”

You felt disgusted at yourself for falling for the manipulation. Had anything been real at all?

“You wouldn’t even look at me in the beginning. In… In the chapel, you wouldn’t even turn your head in my direction, as if I was something disgusting stuck to your shoe, and you treated me like an invisible ghost in your house. And then you graced me with your attention, your care, your… your…” You broke down crying. “All to get me talking. I know that now. I’m not stupid.”

Knees bucking, you fell to the ground, unable to stop the pitiful crying.

Both brothers moved, but Dean was quicker to get on his knees.

“Chewie–”

“Don’t you fucking call me that,” you screamed. “I trusted you. I thought you were my friend.”

Over you, Sam started, worried eyes shifting between you and his brother in confusion.

“You’re an asshole,” you pointed at the man before you and then above. “You, too, Sam. You violated my trust. What you did is no better than any of those hundred men.”

Sam flinched. You might have slapped him.

Shakily, you got to your feet. “I’ll never forgive you.”

The run up the stairs and straight into your room ended when you threw yourself onto the bed. The silk hangings mocked you. You had been blinded by the false promises and reassurances, but you were still nothing more than a piece for sale, to be used… had never been anything more.

Slowly the past few months started to feel like a dream… one that had always felt too good to be true because it was.

The girl in the next cell jumped up from the floor as you were nearly dragged back to the basement that night, having completely lost the will and ability to walk. You heard the clatter of steel bowl as she rushed, but couldn’t find the energy to meet her gaze. Then it was too late as the door to your cell opened and you were unceremoniously flung inside. The birds outside were just starting to twitter, signaling the early hours of morning, little rodents scurrying to get back into their holes now that the night had ended. How you wanted to crawl in a hole, too, and just… die.

“Why did you do that?” She asked, voice strangled.

You didn’t have an answer for her. Getting slapped six times was nearly the same as getting slapped five times, right? Tonight, you were beaten anyway and she wasn’t. You understood the difference.

“Thank you.” Her voice held all the gratitude.

With the last vestiges of strength, you dragged yourself up onto the cot and pulled the two blankets over your body. “It’s alright.” Maybe she heard the whisper. Maybe she didn’t.

“Don’t worry,” she said. “I’m gonna get us out of here. Get you out, if it’s the last thing I do.”

She was brave that one. You wanted to tell her to hold on to that spirit because men knew nothing but to hammer against it. Men knew nothing but to take advantage of women, but you were too tired to open your mouth.

Maybe having her in the next cell, you might not feel so lonely anymore, you thought as your eyes closed.

The banging woke you up. Sam was hammering on the connecting door of your room. Pulling your hands up, you shut your ears tightly until the banging stopped. Sam didn’t rest, as the desperate banging gave way to structured knocks.

L-E-T M-E A-T-L-E-A-S-T E-X-P-L-A-I-N

P-L-E-A-S-E

Y-N

One last loud bang against the door, as if he had banged his fists against it in frustration.

You must have fallen asleep or were nearly under when softer knocks sounded right over your headboard on the wall:

I-M S-O-R-R-Y

But you didn’t have it in you now. All along you had been right: Men knew nothing but to take advantage of women.

*****************************

A/N 2: I am struggling to write. Encouragement is the only thing keeping me going at this point. Please chat me up/ message me/ share your thoughts on this chapter!

Please do let me know if you liked this part. Reblogs and comments are what keep me going!

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hollowed-theory-hall · 4 months ago

Note

Do you think Hogwarts has baths for all students? It’s something I’ve been thinking about, since I can’t remember if the bathing situation of students is mentioned outside of the prefect’s bathroom and the huge tub.

I’ve always kind of assumed modern students use showers, but I don’t know for sure - and now it dents me on a spiral of ‘wait, do they just use smaller tubs?’

As far as I can tell, modern showers were first patented somewhere in the the late 1760’s. Which means that if there are showers, they would have been added during later renovations - like the bathroom entrance to the chamber of secrets.

So, pre-renovation, Hogwarts students would probably sponge bathe with basins of water or, later in the Victorian era or early Edwardian, move onto full bathtubs.

(Also, and this is more of a nitpick on my part, what was with the statement that wizards and witches would just vanish their waste? Chamber pots and commode chairs still existed at that time???)

Okay, so this is an interesting one. So, plumbing that would allow water to reach all sections of the castle, particularly the high towers (Gryffindor & Ravenclaw), yeah, that's not happening in the early days of the school. Or even when the shower was invented. Water taps for indoor plumbing that allowed to get water in and not just get the waste out was a late Victorian invention.

As per usual, I went a little overboard with research, so it's under the cut.

According to the old Pottermore article on the matter:

When first created, the Chamber was accessed through a concealed trapdoor and a series of magical tunnels. However, when Hogwarts’ plumbing became more elaborate in the eighteenth century (this was a rare instance of wizards copying Muggles, because hitherto they simply relieved themselves wherever they stood, and vanished the evidence), the entrance to the Chamber was threatened, being located on the site of a proposed bathroom. The presence in school at the time of a student called Corvinus Gaunt – direct descendant of Slytherin, and antecedent of Tom Riddle – explains how the simple trapdoor was secretly protected, so that those who knew how could still access the entrance to the Chamber even after newfangled plumbing had been placed on top of it.

(Pottermore)

Proper, elaborate plumbing only made its way into the school in the 18th century but this plumbing would only be to be rid of waste, not get water into taps.

(The above quote is also the source of the wizards vanishing their waste, and you're right that it's really weird. I assume they still wanted privacy when doing their business. Like, I can see them still having privies and chamber pots but instead of throwing the waste somewhere, they vanished it. Like, I just can't imagine someone peeing/shitting in their robes in public willingly, I'm sorry, that is not realistic. People didn't do that, yes there were public toilets where other people could see you shit, but it's a space specialized for it (you're polite and don't look, like with urinals), it's not like anyone shat at the dinner table. Like what? What does she mean by "wherever they stood"? I refuse to believe they didn't go somewhere secluded-ish/specialized before going about their business and then vanishing it)

Cedric advises Harry to take a bath with the egg:

“What?” “Take a bath, and — er — take the egg with you, and — er — just mull things over in the hot water. It’ll help you think. ... Trust me.”

(GoF)

Which leads me to assume all students have baths and not showers in their dorms (or wherever they have them). This is supported by later quotes I found:

“Yes, it was,” said Ginny. “It was appalling. Angelina was nearly in tears by the end of it.” Ron and Ginny went off for baths after dinner; Harry and Hermione returned to the busy Gryffindor common room and their usual pile of homework.

(OotP)

Ron and Ginny go to take baths after Quidditch practice (Harry was already banned) and I don't believe they are using the prefects' bathroom. What I note here as interesting is that Harry and Hermione return to the common room while Ron and Ginny go to the baths separately. Why are the baths implied to not be in Gryffindor Tower?

But in PoA, there are also showers, which I assume are in the Quidditch changing rooms:

“Where is Wood?” said Harry, suddenly realizing he wasn’t there. “Still in the showers,” said Fred. “We think he’s trying to drown himself.”

(PoA)

So, what I think is that by the time the books take place, the dorms have baths (the phrasing in the OotP quote is weird, but I'm pretty sure the baths are in the dorms/common rooms) and the Quidditch changing rooms that are not part of the castle and easier to renovate have showers.

(The other option is that they have cool covered Victorian baths that also functioned as showers and they also look really cool:

The above enclosure has a shower head inside. So, maybe, though less likely with how the quotes are phrased)

Now, baths have been a thing for a long time, but until the late 19th century, basically no one had indoor baths like we do today or pipes that got water into homes. There were pipes that supplied water to London, but you had to go to specific stations and get buckets of water to then heat and pour it into the bath at home. The bath day was a whole ritual.

The first screw-down water tap was patented in 1845, so the plumbing Corvinus introduced would've been just to dispose of sewage and waste and not taps for baths like I said earlier. Plumbing that supplied water to individual houses was only introduced in the late 19th century for the wealthy and early 20th century to the rest, so Hogwarts wouldn't have seen it until then.

Since Hogwarts has an army of house elves running it, it's very possible they ensured the baths always had clean warm water for students. Additionally, older students could just cast Aguamenti to fill their baths with clean water, so I don't think taps were all that important to them. So, I think the dorms having a bathroom (I assume one for boys and one for girls) that you had to fill in yourself with magic or call an elf to help (for younger students) isn't too far-fetched. That along with a washcloth, bowl, and pitcher to wash their face in the dorm room would've likely covered the hygiene needs for the most part. And again, baths have existed for thousands of years as there are accounts of very old public bathhouses, so it's likely they would've been a thing in Hogwarts even before modern plumbing was introduced (as they were in the muggle world). But I don't think the "private-ish" baths in the dorms were always there.

Which leads me to prefects' bath:

About a hundred golden taps stood all around the pool’s edges, each with a differently colored jewel set into its handle. There was also a diving board. Long white linen curtains hung at the windows; a large pile of fluffy white towels sat in a corner, [...] at the side of the swimming-pool-sized bath, then knelt down and turned on a few of the taps. He could tell at once that they carried different sorts of bubble bath mixed with the water, though it wasn’t bubble bath as Harry had ever experienced it. One tap gushed pink and blue bubbles the size of footballs; another poured ice-white foam so thick that Harry thought it would have supported his weight if he’d cared to test it; a third sent heavily perfumed purple clouds hovering over the surface of the water.

(GoF)

The prefects' bath is described very similar to a public bathhouse. Roman bathhouses and some medieval ones occasionally had these huge pool-like baths that everyone would use together.

These bathhouses were a luxury though, you wouldn't have gone there every day. It was an event, you'd talk to people, you'd eat, it was a whole thing. So it was more a social thing than just cleaning yourself, you had a washcloth at home for that.

So, my headcanon is that when Hogwarts was built, all students used the prefects' bath as that was the student's bathhouse that everyone used. Later in the Middle Ages, the dorms got more private baths:

(Though people often still used these above baths together and even sat to eat there, since, again, heating up all the water for it made it a luxury. Wizards though, would probably bath more often than muggles since they have magic that can fill the baths and heat them for them)

These more private baths would probably be when the aforementioned bathrooms (still semi-public for a whole house) would be introduced. Later when one-person baths became the norm they would be switched out to these:

these baths would've still had to be filled manually via spells or by the house elves. Modern baths with taps are a 19th-century invention and didn't become common until the early 20th century. In the Victorian era, you just needed to wash your face, feet, genitalia, and armpits every day, a full proper bath was still not an everyday occurrence for most of that century.

The late Victorian era came with the introduction of taps in baths and dedicated bathrooms (or "water closets") more similar to what we are familiar with today:

(Center drain, wood rimmed enameled cast iron tub with ornate feet, embossed skirt, marbled with figural tiled facade, Standard Manufacturing 1887)

These bathrooms were reserved only for the wealthy (since plumbing was expensive) who usually transformed an unused bedroom into a bathroom. These rooms were kind of embarrassing for people to see due to their private nature (hence why the baths and toilets were often rimmed or surrounded with wood to make them look like regular furniture. There were even "folding baths" so you could hide the bath when not in use)

In the very late 19th century tubs started to be made fully from copper or cast iron and these baths would become a common household appliance in the early 20th century.

(Roman pedestal Tub, Standard Manufacturing 1914)

Also, The early showers of the 18th century had a water pump that could spray water from above:

But it still had to be manually filled with water and was not common in homes until the latter half of the 20th century, which is when they would be introduced in the Quidditch changing rooms, but not inside the castle. (Yes, there were some late Victorian shower-bath hybrids and even just showers for homes, but they weren't very common from what I've read)

So, this is what I have to say about the baths/shower situation at Hogwarts.

#asks #anonymous #harry potter #hp meta #hp #hollowedtheory #wizarding world #harry potter meta #hp headcanon #hollowedheadcanon #harry potter headcanon #hogwarts #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry

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cripplecharacters · 4 months ago

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Hello! I have an ask regarding everyday commodities (i think that's the word?) for a character with photophobia caused by albinism.

Her name is Lis, and she is one of the main characters in an urban fantasy setting. She has an older sister who doesn't have albinism, and I'm still considering if I'm gonna give her (Lis) nystagmus and/or dyslexia as well (nystagmus because apparently it's common between people with albinism, so I thought it'd make sense, and dyslexia because it's an idea I've been cooking in my head since her early concepts). She also learns magic on the course of the story, if that's relevant.

She's a very bubbly teen with a chaotic personality, and I decided to give her a very colorful design to represent that, and I also thought tinted glasses would both help her photophobia and fit in with her overall design, so I'm doing more research on them as well. I'm still figuring out how her vision is because I'm not familiar with the concepts yet, but I think she has low vision moreso 20/60.

I was wondering which other aids she could use on her day-to-day vibe. Any tips?

And thank you for running this blog!

oh, i forgot to give another information in my former ask (about Lis, the girl with albinism), that my character lives in North East Brazil, that is, in a very warm and tropical country, so maybe the accomodations she needs might change because of that.

Hello!

We do not currently have active mods with albinism, so I will respond as someone with photophobia, just keep this in mind.

Glasses are definitely good. They do need to be darkened, but if you want to play with colors you can either give Lis colorful frames or use a dark shade of a color rather than just black/gray for the shades. You can also make it so she has multiple pairs that she switches around to go with her outfits if she's into fashion - she'd be probably wearing sunglasses every day, it'd make sense for her to have more than one.

Another aid that's really helpful (and not really seen as an aid) is a big hat, or at least big enough to protect someone from the sun above. Glasses are good, but they only cover the front (unless she's wearing sport ones that go closer to the skin) and the light from above can still be painful. Bucket hats, sun hats, baseball caps, anything helps.

This is the part you take with a grain of salt because I don't have albinism;

Giving her nystagmus and/or strabismus is good since it's really common. Dyslexia doesn't have anything to do with albinism, but there's nothing unusual about a person having two unrelated conditions.

Assuming she has oculocutaneous albinism (there are multiple types of albinism, and not all of them involve the melanin of the skin), she will need to protect her skin too to not be constantly sunburnt. Since she lives in a hot and sunny place, flowy, but long clothes would be the best. Think maxi skirts or breathable shirts with longer sleeves. If she has ocular albinism, I don't think this matters since her skin shouldn't be affected. For the rarer types, you'd have to check her specific one.

The rest would be focusing on her as a low vision character, and a character who has photophobia on top of that - you can be able to navigate well at home where it's relatively dark, and not see shit when outside because it's too bright. So she might, for example, have to use a white cane sometimes, but not at other times. Or if her sunglasses are unusable for whatever reason (those break just as all other aids do), she'd need some other way to navigate. What does she do then? Is she so used to relying on her remaining vision that she'd need a sighted guide (I definitely was there because of my photophobia being really bad), or does she have enough O&M training to be able to use a white cane? What would her resources allow? Etc.

I'm also assuming that she's not the only magical character, but I'd advise you to read up on the "mystical albino" trope, since it's really prevalent with characters with albinism (oculocutaneous mainly).

Hope this helps,

mod Sasza

#mod sasza #cepheusgalaxy #albinism representation #photophobia representation

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lillified · 4 months ago

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Can I ask how you first opened your shop? I’m currently opening my own to sell artwork but I need a bit of advice if you don’t mind? Such as how do I sell my artwork as prints? Any tips or advice would be greatly appreciated, thank you so much ! : D

hi! thank you for the question :)

this is going to be long so I’m putting everything under the cut:

before anything else my first piece of advice would be don’t run before you can walk—any form of selling art, whether that’s client commissions or merchandising, is something I would only recommend to an artist with confidence. Think about whether you’re confident about your technical knowledge and output, and be confident, above all, that if something doesn’t sell then it doesn’t demoralize you. There will always be a market for high-quality art, but something selling doesn’t necessarily make it high quality, and likewise for the opposite. If you love the craft of drawing more than the feedback then you’ll be equipped to understand why some things succeed and some don’t, without taking offense from failure. there is ALWAYS room to grow and learn. Insecurity will prevent you from being objective!

The next thing I’d advise is that prints are a bit of a difficult commodity. High-quality prints can be very profitable and a great way to stock your shop, but they can also be harder to sell. A lot of the indie art market is young people who don’t have the wall space for posters, and prints are so accessible that most artists have them. Show your potential customers respect by printing high-quality pieces that speak for themselves.

With things like charms and stationary you can get away with less polished artwork that maximizes direct, fundamental appeal, but prints are all your artwork, without frills or gimmicks. Do people like looking at your artwork? More importantly, do YOU like looking at your artwork? If you would hang your own artwork on your wall, then that’s a sign you’re doing something right.

another thing I’d advise: having an audience helps A LOT. I can’t pretend it doesn’t, lol. but specifically, an audience that follows you for your artwork. you probably follow artists you wouldn’t buy a print from, and there’s nothing wrong with that—not every artist makes illustrations that translate well to print, and some artists use social media to talk about being an artist instead of sharing their art. A following doesn’t mean you’ll have success, but it absolutely is a huge factor in what I’d consider my success, and it takes a lot of the burden of marketing off of me so I can just be casual and focus on making art. I’m extremely grateful for that support! but a majority of people don’t have that privilege, and I know plenty artists who don’t want to have to be on social media. It’s a lot harder to get that initial push and get eyeballs on your work when you don’t have it, and in that case you’ve got to be aware of how much market minding goes into running a shop. Don’t get out of your depth trying to branch out and adding new designs when you don’t even know what works yet—take it slow, and be willing to learn.

that’s all really dense and abstract stuff and I’m pretty sure you meant like, what supplies to buy and stuff like that, so uh. Here’s a bit of what’s helped me! Starting off, if you have a good art printer already then you can print stuff at home, but when you’re just starting out I’d recommend outsourcing to a print service. Getting your own printer and ink probably isn’t worth it unless you’re printing and selling a high volume of things, and you’re an artist, not a printer—there’s no shame in working with a shop if you know you’re getting professional, high-quality stuff. also, If you’re in college and your school has a print lab, use it! they usually have lots of really cool equipment and can introduce you to techniques you never even knew existed.

as with anything, remember to start smaller than you think you’ll need. You might get starry eyed and think you need 40 posters of one design, but you’ll be amazed at how far just 10 will go. also, 40 posters take up way more space than you think! I always go for a medium variety with low individual stock, and it’s led to a healthy traffic where less popular prints still move over time because people check out my shop for a new item, look at my backlog, and find something they like. The only thing you should be getting extra of are postcards! my go-to printer usually gives me bonus of my smallest sizes and I use them for freebies and stuff like that. don’t dismiss the value of postcard prints, they’re a great way to introduce people to your art and they might end up coming back for the full size (plus, as mentioned, a lot of people don’t have wall space, and little postcards are a great option!)

one downside of shipping paper products is that it’s harder than you think. For supplies, I recommend looking up what other people do before committing the first thing that comes up when you look up “poster mailing supplies.” Some people use bubble mailers with corrugated cardboard inserts, some people use stiff mailers—personally, I gravitate to mailing tubes. Flat mailers are more fragile and also prone to getting wet and nasty in the winter. While mailing tubes are harder to pack and open up more room for handling damage, I’m more comfortable with that risk because I ship a lot of orders to a lot of different places. I’ve had consistent luck with mailing tubes and I recommend them as a secure alternative, but it really depends on your needs and strengths.

lastly I just want to reiterate—be proud of what you make! When you’re insecure in your art it’s easy to rely on what you see works for other people, but without being them you’ll never be able to walk on your own. You can copy what they do exactly, but you’ll be handicapped by the fact that you’ll never be able to make the decisions that made those people successful in the first place. The same goes for chasing market trends, appealing to algorithms, etc. Study success stories, listen to feedback, and respect your audience, but don’t make things that you think other people will love—make things that YOU love. Make a poster you would put on your wall even if it wasn’t yours.

phew, that was really long lol—sorry, believe it or not I wanted to keep this succinct and readable but I just kept thinking of new things. I hope this is helpful! Thank you!!

#ask #text post #text #art #art advice

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exponenshul · 11 months ago

Text

Life Drawing

SYNOPSIS: A pregnant woman is offered big money to pose as a nude model for a two hour figure drawing class, but her water breaks right before she's set to start. Can she make it through the class without a problem? (Contains pregnancy and birth. Reader discretion advised.)

::::::::::

Faith patiently rode up the elevator, trying to keep her nerves in check. This was a big day for her...she had to keep her cool.

She was currently full term pregnant, and certainly showed it. Her belly was impressively full and round, skin smooth and taut. She looked like she could go into labor any moment. That wasn't why she was there today, however.

Professionally, Faith worked as an art model. For years she went to art schools, posing nude for students' figure drawings. It was a role that took a lot of confidence and patience. Since getting pregnant, not only had she needed to change her techniques, but business was booming.

Getting a model to pose was one thing; getting a pregnant one was another. She was a hot commodity currently, and the school she was visiting was willing to pay her a lot of money to do a session. Enough money that she wouldn't dare pass it up, even though she was ready to pop any day.

And so, Faith rode the elevator up to the fourth floor, where the figure drawing studios were located. She took a deep breath, steeling herself to face the students and do her best work.

Once she arrived, she first met the older lady professor, who greeted her warmly and with gratitude.

"Thank you for coming in today, Faith!" The professor said. "It's not often we get to draw from a model with your, well...body type! Haha."

Faith chuckled. "Well, thank you for having me! Always a pleasure. I'm excited to get to work."

The professor guided Faith down the hall and to the classroom. The students were all present already, seated behind easels and pads of paper, forming a circle around a platform in the middle of the room, where Faith would be posing.

"Class, this is Faith, our model for today," The professor announced. "Please give her a warm welcome and treat her with respect!"

Faith looked around the room, smiling and giving a small wave. Typical for tired college students, most looked to her with blank expressions, though she got some smiles back. She noticed that many kept glancing toward her belly, but that was to be expected. Her pregnancy would no doubt be the focus of the session.

"I'm going to go change and then I'll be ready to start!" Faith said warmly. The professor prompted the students to take out their drawing materials while Faith left to find the bathroom.

::::::::::

She was changing, yes, but also realized the importance of emptying her bladder before having to sit on a platform for two hours. As she sat, she was steeling her nerves. Although she'd done this many times before, it was still anxiety-inducing having to stand naked in front of so many watching eyes. And the more pregnant she got, the more she felt like students were...ogling her. Like she was a spectacle. But for the money she'd be getting, she had to perform at her best.

Sighing, she patted her belly. She'd just felt a tug in her middle. Perhaps her baby was nervous as well?

But then, she felt a certain release inside her. She gasped as she felt a torrent of fluid gush out from her crotch.

Horrified, she looked between her legs and into the toilet bowl. It definitely was not pee. But that meant...

She'd been feeling these sort of cramps earlier in the day and the previous night, but she'd figured it was just indigestion, or Braxton hicks at the most. But seeing that her water had just broken, Faith realized she was in labor.

Faith cursed. Why did this have to happen now, when she was about to score one of her highest paying gigs in years?! There was no way she'd get an opportunity like this again, especially after she had the baby...

She sat a moment longer as her mind raced. Well, labor typically lasted many hours, right? If she could get through the session, she could fulfill her job and still get to the hospital soon after...right?

Faith rubbed her belly and took a deep breath. "Hang on, baby. We've got some poses to do."

::::::::::

Faith reentered the classroom wearing nothing but a thin robe. The students turned their heads toward her expectantly.

"Welcome back! Are you ready to start, Faith?" The professor asked.

"Sure am," Faith said, trying her best to sound enthusiastic. She made her way to the center of the room as the professor explained the plan to the class.

"All right students, like I said, be respectful of our model's time and services. Absolutely NO cell phones or cameras are allowed to be out while she is in the room. We are going to start with shorter, more dynamic poses and work our way toward longer poses."

Faith took a deep breath. This was all standard stuff. She'd be fine.

She got up onto the platform, where there was a wooden chair, a gallon of water with some cups, and a heating fan waiting for her, to keep her comfortable as she worked. As she poured herself some water and turned on the fan, the professor continued on.

"We'll start with ten one-minute poses to start off and get warmed up. These will be quick, so get down the essentials."

As the students prepped their drawing materials and paper pads, Faith began undoing her robe. Students glanced at her, trying not to seem like they were staring. But that was all right, they were going to be staring at her anyway—it was just part of the lesson.

"After each set of poses, we'll take short breaks to review our work and let Faith rest," The professor said, pulling a timer from her pocket. "Now, let's begin!"

With that, Faith removed her robe, setting it on the chair behind her, and revealing her fully nude pregnant form to the students. They took in her curves, her engorged breasts, the swell of her belly. All from a professional standpoint, of course. They were there to learn, not to ogle.

Things started off pretty smoothly. Faith began with her usual quick, dynamic poses—stretching her arms out as if reaching for something, twisting around, kneeling—all things that showed off her pregnant curves. The students worked quickly and diligently, moving their drawing implements deftly to capture her form with each new pose. Nobody spoke, so the only sounds were of pencil to paper, breathing, and the soft, meditative music the professor had set to play.

Between the seventh and eighth poses, though, Faith felt it—a contraction. It was strong, signaling that she was definitely in labor. Her body tensed and she grimaced, but she tried to play it off, making it seem like it was just a part of her switching poses. If she started visibly showing that she was in labor, she'd have to give up the job for sure.

She powered through the rest of the one-minute poses without another hitch. As the students flipped their sketchbook pages and sharpened their pencils, she took a breather and glanced at the clock. Fifteen minutes in, another hour and forty-five to go.

The professor got the class's attention. "All right, students! Now that we're warmed up, we're going to move on to the next portion—six poses of five minutes each."

Faith braced herself. She had to really focus now.

"Now is the time to start focusing on details," The professor continued. "Get the basic shapes down, then fill in the values to really capture our model's form. Let's begin!"

Faith brought out her repertoire of mid-length poses, ones that she could hold for a longer period of time but were still somewhat dynamic. For the first one, she stood with her legs apart, hands pressed against her back and jutting her belly out. No problems there.

Just before the pose was set to end, though, she felt another tug in her gut, slightly stronger than the last. She exhaled and bent forward a bit, moving one of her arms to hold her belly. A couple of the students gave her a look.

After a moment, the professor's stop watch beeped. She looked at Faith and said lightly, "Thank you, but if you could, please hold the pose up until the timer goes off."

"R-right," Faith said, somewhat embarrassed. She never broke a pose before the time was up like that. "Sorry, the baby was just...kicking."

She had to use more self control. It wouldn't be good to have the professor annoyed at her, or worse, suspicious of what was happening.

Faith kept working through the next two poses. She chose positions that were dynamic, but that were easy to hide any pain or flinching if need be. The next contraction came in between the third and fourth poses in the set, so she was able to be discreet about it. They were ten minutes apart now...not so bad. She was going to be fine.

Still, her heart rate was picking up as she tried to run through a game plan in her mind. As soon as the poses were done, she would go to the hospital. But should she really be driving in her condition? She could take the bus, but no, that would take too long...and an ambulance would be expensive, and cause a commotion...

She was near the end of the fifth pose and weighing her options as the next contraction hit, but she handled it well. She braced herself and held her breath, and she only barely twitched. She just hoped that nobody was able to notice her muscles contracting from their vantage points, because she was certainly feeling them.

Feeling confident as they entered the last five-minute pose, Faith went for a more dynamic angle, lunging forward with her arms raised as if she were running. She thought it would be fine, but to her discontent, another contraction hit just past the second minute. It caught her more off guard and she winced slightly, her back leg shaking for a moment until she could get a hold of herself.

That was definitely less than ten minutes. She glanced at the clock...was it eight minutes? No, seven...?

Her anxiety was rising by the time the five-minute poses were through and the class took a brief respite. After putting on her robe, she sat down, drank some water and took deep breaths. The professor walked around the classroom, admiring the students' work.

"These are all wonderful," she said proudly. "Faith, would you like to come see some of the sketches?"

"Ah, I think I'll wait and see some later," Faith breathed, as politely as she could. In all honesty, she was most focused on staying as still as possible so she could focus on riding out the contractions. She felt another one as she sat there and cursed under her breath, rubbing her bulging, restless belly. Soon, baby, just hold on...

After a few more minutes, it was time to start the second half of the session. They were an hour in and had an hour left to go.

The professor brought some large cushions up to the platform Faith was sitting at. "Since we'll be starting on our longer poses, I thought you could use these to stay comfortable."

Faith appreciated the gesture, but knew she was going to be far from comfortable.

With that, the professor went back and addressed the class. "Okay, students! You've done well so far. Now we're going to try some longer, more detail-oriented drawings. Spend time on studying how light falls across the model's body, how her muscles are laid out under the skin. We will do three poses of fifteen minutes each, with short breaks in between."

Faith gulped and steeled herself. All right, she could do this. She just had to finish the last few poses. Get through fifteen minutes, three times. Secure the payday. Then she should call an Uber and get out of here to deliver her baby.

For the first pose, she set up the cushions and lay down on her side, one arm propping her up and the other draped across her belly. She knew she would have to ride out two or three contractions during this pose, so she needed to be as relaxed as possible.

The students began to sketch and draw, watching her intently, focusing on every part of her. To a degree, she was used to this, but right now she was feeling particularly vulnerable. They were all watching her progress through labor, and they didn't know it...or did they? Could they tell when her naked body tensed up? Did they know she was in labor but just weren't saying anything...? No, no, she was passing it off just fine. No need to make herself more anxious than she already was.

The next contraction came. It was the most intense and drawn out yet. She held her breath and ever-so-subtly tightened her grip on the swell of her belly. Her baby was shifting inside her, ready to be born.

Faith could feel herself getting sweaty from the exertion and the anxiety. Labor was progressing much more quickly than she thought. She tried to control her breathing, but her heart was starting to pound. Each minute was going by painfully slow, yet all too fast at the same time. By the time the next contraction hit her, less than five minutes later, she felt like she hadn't even gotten any rest in between. And yet, she kept her pose diligently.

Breathing through the tight, painful squeezing of her muscles, Faith tried to stay focused. She had an idea of what she would do for the next two poses. Then, in between them, she could quickly use her phone to call over an Uber, so that it would be waiting for her as soon as the class ended. She was realizing now that there wasn't going to be much time to spare.

The next contraction gripped her hard. Her breath caught and she tensed up in a way that was definitely noticeable. Luckily, the professor was distracted admiring the students' work and the students themselves couldn't have cared less.

Faith clenched her jaw. According to the clock, it had been only four minutes since the last one. Her contractions were rapidly getting closer together, and each one was stronger than the last. Would she really be able to do this?

Mercifully, after that contraction, the pose ended. Faith sat up, doing her best to act natural, but she was getting tired. She would be tired at this point in any normal pose session, but right now she was really spent. It was going to take a good amount of willpower to even get into her next position.

She looked around for her phone, wanting to schedule her Uber ride. She then realized it was still in her bag with her clothes, across the room. Well, so much for that plan. There was no way she wanted to get up and walk around right now...surely that would only accelerate her labor.

Another contraction. It was strong, blinding. This labor was going way too fast. She could feel the baby moving down.

"Faith, are you ready for the next pose?" The professor inquired.

"Yes," Faith managed. "Just...a moment."

Fighting the pain and pressure, she eased herself into the next pose. It was on her knees and elbows, head held up as best as possible, belly hanging low, grazing the soft cushions beneath her. Nothing too strenuous, and at this angle, she hoped gravity would help her delay her labor.

It was a good plan that unfortunately did not yield much success. Faith kept facing more and more contractions, each one causing her to strain. She was quickly learning how to cover it up, but there were things she couldn't help, like her belly gently lifting up from the cushion when her muscles tensed, and her breath catching when the pain gripped her. She just needed to be discreet enough that no one would call her out...but this labor was relentless.

Nearing the end of the pose, Faith was of course hit with another contraction- she had lost count of how many there were at this point. They had to be less than three minutes apart. With this one, she could feel the mass within her shift, like the baby's head was entering her birth canal. She gritted her teeth but could not prevent the rough grunt that escaped her throat.

This time, several people noticed. Eyes glanced up from sketch pads.

The professor tilted her head. "Faith? Are you all right?"

"Yeah, all good," Faith lied. "Just...a cough."

"All right. Well, very good- let's take a short rest before the final pose, class."

It felt almost impossible for Faith to move, but she managed to slowly get back into a casual sitting position. She was sweating bullets now, palms slick, hair matted, the skin on her belly glistening. Her belly rested heavily on her as the mass settled into her pelvis. The strain was becoming overwhelming...she desperately wanted to be in a cool hospital room, epidural at the ready...but she was almost done here. One more pose. Just fifteen minutes remained.

Plus, she had a plan for this last one. It would be the perfect way to-

"Faith?" The professor called. "If you don't mind, I have a request for this last pose."

Faith's heart pounded and she breathed heavily. "S-sure, of course."

"If you could, I'd like you to go on your back, sitting up slightly. And if you could have your knees up, hands resting on your thighs...I think this would be an important pose for us to study."

Faith's mind reeled. She couldn't believe it...the professor was asking her to get into what was unmistakably a birthing position. But there was no way she could refuse. "N-no problem...just...just give me a second."

She tried to hype herself up. She'd spent years in this practice building stamina and learning how to endure. She was strong, she could do this. But as she got into position, resting back against the cushions, she was hit with a contraction- and an undeniable, instinctual feeling.

She was feeling the urge to push. Already, she was fully dilated. There wasn't much time. The baby was coming now!

No, no! She thought to herself, hopelessly trying to keep her cool. We're almost done! I can't give birth now!

The professor must have seen the look on the poor woman's face. "Are you sure this is comfortable for you, Faith?"

"I'm fine," Faith grunted, as she sat back with her knees up, legs spread. "Just start the timer."

And thus, the final countdown began. Faith needed to gather every ounce of her willpower to make it through, but her strength was dwindling. Her eyes twitched as she struggled to maintain a straight face. Her arms and legs spasmed at random as she tried to keep from trembling. And now, the contractions were just about on top of each other. Her baby was definitely moving its way down into her birth canal, and she was naked with her legs splayed. But she had to hold on.

Five minutes passed. The urge to push was becoming unbearable. Faith's belly quaked and heaved with her breathing, now dripping with sweat. She desperately wanted to clutch it, to try and coax the baby into staying inside, but she was forced to keep her hands on her thighs. Her nails dug into her flesh painfully as she tensed. By not pushing, she was going against every natural instinct. Feeling the baby slowly push through her was torturous. Her body was screaming at her, but still, she did not give in.

"Mmph..." she murmured, behind pursed lips. Quiet, but again audible enough to be heard. Her eyes darted around the classroom. The students who had been observing her body and drawing it for the past couple hours were beginning to tell that something was off...she could feel it. She saw it in the way some of them looked at her longer, or differently, with hints of concern in their eyes. Some of them glanced at each other, perhaps to see if anyone else was noticing. Would any of them say something? Did they think it was part of the session- that she was just a great actor?

Ten minutes in, Faith was faltering. Should she just throw in the towel, cry out that she was in labor? Would that be better or worse for her? And just how was she planning on leaving after the pose was done...? She felt the baby move down by just another bit, and her jaw clenched. She was so close. She just had to keep going.

The urge to push hit her at its strongest then, panic surging in her heart. Holding back was like trying not to breathe now...very soon she was going to have to give in, just to release some of the pressure.

Another contraction, and the baby's head forced through her more. She could feel the burning of the mass nearing her exit. Her breathing was shaky and ragged, her composure cracking. Just hold on, just hold on...

With only a minute to go, Faith was about to give in. Her muscles squeezed unbearably, her bulging belly tight and heaving. Her toes curled and her back ached. One more contraction and she could take it no longer. She listened to her body and bore down ever so slightly. The head inched toward being born. She could feel her vulva beginning to bulge out from the mass behind it. This was it, she'd run out of time, and there was no stopping it now. She began to tremble. Everyone was going to see it, her pussy lips slowly parting, the head of her baby starting to...

"All right, and that's time!" The professor called. "Great work, everyone. Put your pencils down so we can go around and admire everyone's work."

The students stopped where they were, putting away their tools and organizing their papers.

The professor turned toward Faith. "And everyone say thank you to our model, who did an amazing job for us today!"

A spattering of tired-to-enthusiastic "thank yous" rang out.

Noticing that the model had not moved, the professor continued, "...And Faith, we're all done now, so feel free to pack up."

Faith did not respond.

Quizzically, the professor called out again. "Faith...?"

Then, one student chimed in, who was still looking at Faith with wide eyes and a furrowed brow. "Ummm...."

Another student stood up. "Oh shit, I think she's giving birth!"

Everyone in the classroom looked back at Faith. Sure enough, the top of a baby's head could be plainly seen crowning between her legs.

At this point, Faith threw her head back and bellowed out. "Ooooooh GOD I'M SORRY! THE BABY'S COMING!"

All at once, the room turned to chaos. Most stood frozen, unsure of what to do. The professor, completely in shock, scrambled to grab her phone and call 911. A couple students broke the no-phones rule and took pictures. Some even flipped to new pages in their sketchbooks and began to feverishly draw what was happening.

Faith, with all resolve and shame out the window, finally pushed with all her might. She grunted and moaned at the top of her lungs as she brought the baby to a full crown. Embracing her current position, she spread her legs as wide as they would go and arched her back, feeling unmistakable relief even through the pain. She couldn't think about the class anymore, or the money...all she could focus on was delivering her baby safely.

After holding out for so long, the baby was able to come quickly. After another few pushes while the class around her scrambled, the head popped out with a gush of fluid. Some students turned away, grossed out. Others watched intently, eager to get some once-in-a-lifetime studies in.

Finally, with the last of her remaining willpower, Faith bore down again, birthing the shoulders and allowing the rest of the baby to slide out onto the platform in front of her. The classroom fell silent, save for the sound of a crying, healthy newborn.

::::::::::

An ambulance quickly arrived, and Faith and her baby were brought in and taken care of. She had a lot of recovery to do, both physical and emotional.

At first, Faith was sure her...'performance' was going to get her in a world of trouble. Surely, she'd get no money, lose her job, and possibly get punished for some sort of indecent exposure.

On the contrary, Faith was surprised to receive double to money she was originally promised. The professor told her that apparently she had amazed everyone with her strength and that they all felt honored that she was willing to share such a special moment with them. Between that and all the news stories that were to follow, she'd forever be known as the first (and only) nude model to give birth during a session.

All in all, it was worth the commitment. And if she ever got pregnant again...well, if the money was right, she'd be willing to work right up until her due date.

::::::::::

END

#pregnant #pregnancy #fpreg #pregblr #preggo kink #birth kink #birth denial #my writing #giving birth #pregnant kink #exponenshul's writing

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