#Don Martin Steps Out

[tomoleary]

Don Martin “MAD's Maddest Artist Don Martin Steps Out!” Preliminary Cover Illustration Original Art (c. 1987) Source, source

[lewisvinga]

born to die | fernando alonso x fem! reader

summary: after their engagement, y/n realized her and fernando may have different views of the future. it makes her wonder if they were really born to die.

warnings; age gap, cursing, angst/fluff

word count; 1.28k

taglist; @namgification @louvrepool @locelscs @thehufflepuffavenger1 @minseok-smaus @goldenmclaren @ollieshifts @lavisenri @graciewrote @xoscar03

note; and this is it u guyssss🥹 i enjoyed this series sm and i’m so thankful 4 everyone who read n enjoyed it<33 im gonna miss it sm but keep a look out for my next music f1 series 😁

‘born to die’ series masterlist !

masterlist !

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“But are you really ready to settle down?” Y/b/f asked Y/n during their biweekly brunch dates. The topic of marriage came about after due to Y/n started wedding planning a few months after being engaged.

Her best friend knew her more than anyone. They grew up together. So Y/b/f knows that Y/n never wanted to settle down so quickly. She knew that she wanted to spend her 20s having fun and completing her master's.

Marrying someone who is already in their 40s and wants to settle down as soon as possible meant there was a conflict between their futures.

“I mean, not yet.” Y/n sighed, grasping into the cup of tea as she shrugged. “I love Fernando, I do. I don’t want kids yet. I want to wait a few years and-“

“But does he know that? That’s a man who wants to settle down already and have a house in the countryside. That’s a man who wants children soon.” Y/b/f interrupted her, genuine concern written all over her face. “He’s a great guy and I love that he makes you happy but is that what you really want? Having kids means giving up a lot and you know that I know that.” She added about her own child. “And He just signed another contract with Aston Martin. If you do have kids, he won’t be around to help you much.”

Y/n let out a groan, running her hands over her face. “I was lost before I met him. I was so confused as a little child but he gave me a sense of meaning. I love Nando, I truly do. But It’s just,” She sighed. She looks out the window of the restaurant and watches busy people walking down the sidewalks. “Now that I think about it, we view the next 5 years completely differently.”

Y/b/f reaches out and grabs her hand, forcing Y/n to look back at her. “Just think about it, okay? I love you and I just want the absolute best for you.”

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Y/n sat on the top step of the front patio of her shared home with Fernando, staring out onto the gloomy skies. Despite it being sunny when she was at brunch, by the time she got home it was drizzling. However, the rain usually calmed her and in a moment where she was deep in her thoughts, she definitely needed to be calmed.

She was so lost in her thoughts of her future that she didn’t notice her fiancé’s Aston Martin pulling up to the driveway. The Spaniard was confused as to why his fiancée was sitting on the patio with a sad look on her face.

“What’s wrong, mi amor?” He asked. He sat down next to her and caressed her arm. Hearing the concern laced in his voice was the triggering act for her.

“Do you think this is the right time for us to get married?” Y/n asked, keeping her eyes on her fiddling fingers. She hears Fernando’s breath hitch as he sits up straight.

“Why do you think that?”

“Fernando, you’re older than me, like a lot older and-“

“You just noticed?” He asked in a teasing tone in hopes to lighten the mood a bit.

She just sighed in response and crossed her arms over her chest. “Fernando, we both have different views of the next 5 to 10 years and you know that. I’m still young. I want to go out and party and enjoy my life. I just started my master's degree. But I know you want to retire in a few years. I know you want to have kids as soon as possible and settle down. But I-“

Y/n takes a deep breath as she glances up at her fiancé. “I don’t want that. Not yet at least. Not until I finish my master's. I don’t want to settle down just yet. Y/b/f had to stop so many things when she had her son. It makes me wonder if we’re really meant to be. Maybe you and I, we were born to die.”

Fernando’s minute of silence made her heart drop. He looked like he was lost in his thoughts, similar to how she was moments prior. “What are you even talking about, Y/n? We were born to die? Come on, mi amor!” He exclaimed, standing up to his feet. Her eyebrows furrowed up as she copied him by also getting on her feet, ignoring how the rain began to come down harder.

“Maybe it’s true, Fernando!”

“It’s bullshit.” He let out a laugh as he ran his hand over his beard. “Whatever you’re thinking, it’s bullshit. Yes, we’re different ages. The road gets tough, it happens and I don’t know why, but we carry on. That doesn’t mean we’re born to die. Come on!” He continued, his eyebrows furrowed up.

“Are you even listening-“

“I am and what you’re saying is bullshit like I said!” Fernando responds, taking a step closer to her. “Amor, yes, I want children. Yes, I dream of us one day living on the coasts of Spain with our kids but that doesn’t mean I want it right away. I want you to achieve your degree. I want you to enjoy yourself first because it’s not up to me when we have kids. It’s all you.”

“Yeah, but-“

“What do I have to do to prove this to you?”

Y/n raised her eyebrows in confusion as she tilted her head. “What do you mean ‘prove’ it to me?” She asked, confused by his words.

He takes a step back with a shrug. “Prove that I don’t care if you want to wait to have kids. Prove that I wanna marry you because I love you, not to settle down.”

“Well, you don’t need to prove-“ She pauses in her words when she sees him take a step down. She lets out a sigh, her hands falling to rest by her side. She knew immediately by the glint in his eyes what he wanted to do. “Fernando, no. You’re going to get sick.”

He takes another step down.

“Fernando, stop that!”

He takes one step back and is immediately met with the pouring rain. In seconds, his clothes and hair were drenched but he didn’t care. Not one bit.

“Fernando, come back! The longer you stay there the more likely you’ll be sick.” She scolded him but he simply smiled in reply.

“I’m not leaving unless you join me.”

Y/n crosses her arms, glaring at Fernando who keeps smiling. She let out a sigh of defeat as she took a couple steps down the stairs and made it out into the rain. He immediately pulls her close by her waist. She lets out a yelp and balances herself by holding onto his shoulders.

“I love you and I want to marry you, mi amor. I don’t mind waiting 5, 10, even 15 years for us to have kids and ‘settle’ down.” He loudly says over the sound of the rain hitting the pavement. “I just want you.”

She laughs in disbelief, resting her forehead against his chest. “We can figure it all out later, right?”

“It’s just you and me right now, mi amor,” Fernando says. He cups Y/n’s face with one hand, forcing her to look up. He took a second to admire her features and her messed-up makeup from the rain. He leans down, kissing her hard in the pouring rain. Her previous thoughts immediately washed away the moment she felt his lips on her. Maybe they weren’t born to die.

[bloodstainedsaint]

the sniper (joseph liebgott x sniper! reader)

summary: when you transferred from dog company to easy company following the battle of bloody gulch, you thought you knew what to expect of men in the military— though you really wanted joe liebgott to prove you wrong

word count: just over 3500

warnings: period-typical sexism & misogyny (big part of the story), very minor violence, denying feelings, mutual pining, reader lowkey has trust issues, full of other characters but hopefully no one's ooc?? also this fic is kinda messy 😭

notes: happy thanksgiving! enjoy this fic for the holidays 💞 also your favs AREN'T sexist, just confused

Gossip, you realized, was an easy way to kill time for the men of the military, especially with the recent news that there would be a transfer to Easy Company— the transfer being you, of course. You had no idea you were such a hot topic until you walked down a street of Aldbourne in search of the man currently in charge of your new company, Lieutenant Winters, and overheard a trio of soldiers discussing rumors as they sat around awaiting orders.

“Hey, have you heard that there’s a transfer coming from D-Company?” one said, lighting a cigarette.

“Whew, he must’ve not taken any smokes from Lieutenant Sparky, huh, Don?” another chuckled, stealing the cigarette out of who you guessed was Don’s fingers and puffing for emphasis, much to Don’s displeasure.

Huffing, Don continued, “He’s a sniper, apparently! Better than Shifty!”

“Nah, no one’s better than Shifty,” the third butted in. “Shifty can shoot you right between the eyes blindfolded.”

“Shifty would deny that ‘til he died, Penk,” said the second with a smile.

“It’s true, Skip! Apparently he tracked a target from 1,000 yards away and still got him in the head! Bang! Just like that,” Don said while he mimicked holding a rifle and firing.

“Psh, our boy Shifty could do that, or better: 2,000 yards, right?” Skip nudged Penk with his shoulder.

Penk shrugged. “Length don’t matter, anyway. It’s what you do with the gun, not how far it shoots.”

Skip and Don shared a look and grinned, the latter joking, “Don’t you mean distance, Alex? What, you insecure about something?”

The trio devolved into laughter and banter, but was suddenly quieted as Don patted the others and pointed at you approaching. Several other men standing nearby swiveled their heads to watch as well.

A woman dressed in fatigues, the shoulder of her uniform emblazoned with the Screaming Eagles patch, a M1 Garand slung around her back— they couldn't seem to get their mind around it. Disregarding their curious stares (you’d gotten a lot of them for the past two years or so that you've been enlisted), you walked past the group of spectators.

A couple of men whistled lowly, and a murmur spread through the small crowd. You stopped in your tracks for a moment, eyes downward in thought. Surely one of these men knows where Lieutenant Winters is. You turned on your heel toward the group.

“Afternoon,” you addressed the onlookers, who were now either standing up or gathering around in interest. Your eyes went from man to man, meeting inquisitive and suspicious stares alike, unfazed. “Anyone know where I can find Lieutenant Winters?”

“You, uh, you lost?” a diminutive man — Perconte, his name tag read — asked.

One with a strict face and a glower already etched into it — Martin — stepped into the scattered group. “Who’s asking?”

“Private (Y/N), sir,” you said with a quick salute that was returned. “I’m transferring from Dog Company to Easy Company. I was told to look for a Lieutenant Winters.”

The men exchanged a look amongst each other.

The man from earlier, Don, spoke up with awe apparent in his voice. “You’re a sniper?”

You turned to him with a curt nod. “Yes, I’m a sharpshooter.”

Then a lanky, scrappy-looking guy, Liebgott, entered with a smirk tugging upon his lips. Just by looking at his crooked smile and raised eyebrows, you knew he was going to cause you trouble. Just another man ogling at you like you're nothing but a pretty face. What else is new? “You need help getting around base?”

“No thank you, that won’t be necessary,” you swiftly rebuffed, turning your attention back to the rest of the men. You set them with an expectant look.

“You can find Lieutenant Winters over there at CP,” Randleman, a large red-headed man, said around a hefty cigar in his mouth, nodding his head in the tent’s direction. “If he’s not there, try the mess cabin.”

With a small smile, grateful that someone finally answered your question instead of asking more of them, you thanked him, saluted, and walked off.

As you started towards CP, you heard behind your back, “Did Roosevelt change something while we were overseas? ‘Cause I just saw a lady wearing paratrooper clothing with a rifle ‘round her back.”

“Very astute, George,” someone replied.

You could almost hear the smirk in Liebgott’s voice as he declared, “I’m gonna go talk to her.”

“Yeah, come back alive,” another voice — Skip, maybe — chimed in. “Speirs might’ve rubbed off on her.”

You only had a few seconds to mentally prepare yourself before you heard footsteps catching up behind you. Liebgott was now walking side by side with you, matching your brisk pace.

“Hey, (Y/N), right?”

You took a sidelong glance at him. “That’s right.”

“Joseph D. Liebgott. Technician 5th-Grade.”

“And is there a reason why you’re following me to CP, Liebgott?”

“Thought I’d show you around base, get to know you a little.”

“And I thought I declined your assistance,” you said firmly. “I was part of Dog Company; I'm not new around here.”

“Alright, how about introducing you to Easy men when you’re finished?” He threw a smile your way. “They’re curious about you.”

You slightly grimaced at the thought of being at the center of attention for so many strangers. “I’d rather not.”

“Why? They’re great guys. I don’t know about Dog Company men and their Lieutenant Speirs, but Easy men, especially Toccoa men, are different.”

They don’t seem all that different to me. You gripped the strap of your gun a little tighter. “Once again, I’ll pass.”

He shrugged. “You’ll warm up to us.”

A tense silence ensued. You did your best to not seem bothered by it. Usually by this point people gave up and stopped talking to you entirely.

“So, uh,” he began, running his hands through his hair. Of course you weren’t getting rid of him that easily. Your intuition earlier was right. “Why’re you transferring over to Easy? No offense, but we've got a helluva marksman already.”

“I wasn’t given a reason, just an order.”

“That so? Well, maybe you’ll take his place as our resident sniper, huh?”

“Looking forward to it,” you responded drily.

He chuckled. “You’ll fit right into Easy with the rest of the snarkers. Where you from, (Y/N)?”

You eyed him cautiously. “Lansing, Michigan.”

“Get outta here, you serious? I'm from there too!” Liebgott cracked a smile and gazed at you. “Man, I might’ve seen you around and just haven’t realized it. Could've been talking to you years ago.”

You pursed your lips. “It wouldn't have helped your chances, Liebgott.”

Grinning, he said, undaunted, “What chances? We're just talking. I wanna know the lady I’ll be fighting with.”

“You just want to know if I’m single or not. That’s all,” you icily said as the two of you neared the tent.

Apparently found out, Liebgott smiled broadly and stopped a few feet from CP while you continued walking. “Well, are you?”

You turned to face him. “Yes, I’m single, and no, I’m not interested in sleeping with you.”

You couldn’t see the smile melt off his face as you entered the tent, eyes searching amongst all the men and equipment for the tall soldier you’ve seen conversing with Lieutenant Speirs before.

“Private (Y/N),” a voice called. You looked in its direction and finally found Winters.

“Lieutenant Winters.” You saluted.

“You’re the new transfer, right?” he asked, beckoning you further into the tent for some privacy. You were thankful that most of the men here were too occupied with their own duties to notice you.

You followed him to a quiet corner. “Yes, sir.”

“Met the men yet?”

“Some of them.”

“Anyone give you trouble?” he asked gently. “You can tell me.”

You paused, thinking. Nothing past some inquisitive stares and a couple of questions. “No, sir.”

Winters perceived your hesitation. “If that changes, tell me. They're good men, but they might be a bit eager to meet you.”

You nodded. Liebgott certainly was. He analyzed your face for a second before continuing, “Try to get yourself acquainted at dinner before you go into combat with them. That’ll be all, Private.”

You saluted, knowing full well that you’ll most likely try to get a seat by yourself, away from the clamor of the men.

“Thank you, sir.”

-

It turned out that no seat was good enough to escape the onslaught of questions.

You had gotten there early and took a seat at the far end of one of the tables with a book in hand and not much of an appetite. Unfortunately for you, being one of the first ones there instead of a head in a crowd of people singled you out, and eventually you were surrounded by men wanting to know more.

“Hey, this is the new replacement I’ve been hearing so much about, yeah?” Bill Guarnere, or Wild Bill, as they called him, questioned, shoving himself into one of the seats at your table.

“Transfer, Gonorrhea, not a replacement,” Liebgott said from your side. When he had entered the mess cabin, you had attempted to hide yourself with your book, but to no avail. He had beelined toward you, beaming ear to ear as he slid into the seat next to you.

“You into books?” he said, eyes going from you to the book in your hands.

You thought that he might actually surprise you.“Yeah, are you?”

He scoffed lightheartedly. “What, you kidding? I love to read!”

A ghost of a smile graced your face. “What kind?”

“Oh, you know, Dick Tracy, Flash Gordon, mostly!” he said, seemingly proud of himself, and your smile disappeared.

Soon after that, people swarmed your table. If you were being fair, though, Liebgott had spoken for you for most of the night, making sure you could read in relative peace. If you didn't know any better, you’d say that he was just enjoying you being by his side, but you were still wary of any underlying intentions (let’s say, getting into your pants) he might have.

Yet, out of the corner of your eyes, you saw the way he looked at you from time to time with a small smile upturning his lips, and you wanted to believe he didn't have any.

“Transfer, replacement, whatever,” Bill brushed it off with a wave of his hand. “What I wanna know is—”

“—why she’s a girl?” Liebgott finished. “Jeez, I dunno, she’s only been asked this twelve times tonight.”

“If you’d let me finish,” Bill said with a pointed look at Liebgott as he pulled out a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, “I was gonna ask if she did shoot a Kraut from 1,000 yards away.”

“You’d be giving ole Shifty a real run for his money, ain't that right, Shift?” Joe — the other one, Joe Toye — said from beside Bill, reaching over to another table and shaking one of the guys there.

Shifty, you assumed, looked over and met your eyes with a kind smile. “No, no, I’m sure she's a better shot than me. Y'all give me too much credit.”

“That’s what being humble will get ya.” Bill chuckled and puffed from his cigarette. “Your spot as Easy’s best shot out from under ya.”

The table laughed, and you steeled yourself before uttering in a quiet, yet steady voice, “It was two men.”

A hush descended over the table. Liebgott turned to look at you. “What?”

“Two men. I dropped the first. The other one heard and started running. I dropped him next. Both in the head,” you relayed, without the humor of a storyteller but the gravity of a historian. You didn't know it, but you had a stony look in your eye.

Luckily, you were saved from the stunned silence by a man getting up and reciting a poem, but you could feel Liebgott’s eyes burning into you. With fear? Admiration? You weren’t sure, but you didn't dare look over.

-

Joe Liebgott was nothing if not persistent. For months now, he'd been lingering around you, flirting and striking up conversations with you. To be honest, you never outright said for him to stop (besides that one time in the very beginning when you said you weren’t interested), so you guessed he wasn't overstepping any boundaries.

Still, he seemed determined to get you into his bed.

“C’mon, I think we’d look cute together!”

“That’s what you think, Joe,” George said, squatting next to his friend, “Giving her heart eyes and all. Meanwhile, she looks at you like you're her next target.”

Brushing his teeth, Frank followed the other two’s gaze across the road, where you were happily talking with Bull and Shifty. He spat out the toothpaste residue on the ground beside him and said, counting on his fingers, “Seems like the only people she gives the time of day to are Shifty, Bull, Doc Roe, even Webster.”

“Who, if you'll notice,” George said, gesturing with a cigarette between his fingers, “are all quiet, reserved, well-mannered people. You, on the other hand, got a loud mouth and, uh, what’s it called, Frank?”

“A short fuse,” Frank supplied.

“Yeah, a short fuse. She probably thinks you’re trying to get into bed with her, in which case, you're shit outta luck.”

Frank said, shaking his head, “Scary, that girl. With her rifle and that look in her eyes.”

Liebgott exhaled. “But I’m not tryna just sleep with her! I even gave her some of my favorite comics ‘cause I knew she likes to read.”

“Yeah, real books, Joe— that's why she gets along with Webster!” Frank exclaimed. “You sure you didn't give her the pornos?”

George laughed. “That'd give her the wrong impression.”

Liebgott narrowed his eyes as you giggled at something Shifty said. “You’re right, maybe she doesn't like me.”

Standing up, George sighed and snuffed out his cigarette. “That’s not the point, Joe. I’ve seen the way she looks at you.”

“Yeah, like I’m her next target? You told me already.”

“No,” George said with an exaggerated eye roll, “like she wants more outta you. ‘Cause all she's getting is the impression that you wanna fuck her.”

Liebgott stood up as well, still watching as you laughed with Bull and Shifty. George and Frank patted him on the back.

“She’s all yours, buddy,” Frank assured with a sympathetic smile. “She makes heart eyes at you too.”

-

There were only a handful of women selected to serve outside of something like a nurse’s position; you just so happened to be one of them, most likely because of your experience with a rifle. So, you’d gotten used to the lustful ways some men would watch you, or the demeaning ways they would taunt you. You guessed almost all of them had never seen a woman with a combat position in the military before (or by the way some of them acted, ever spoken to a woman at all).

But such men only assumed that you had earned your jump wings by sleeping around with officers. They assumed that they should be able to get in on it too, or that they should condemn you for something you didn't even do, for being unworthy and unskilled all because you were a woman.

It had always been a difficult pill to swallow: your military career would be littered with scathing remarks and crude comments, and you’d have to be strictly professional or closed-off with most men lest you’d be seen as a whore rather than just “scary”. But the hardest fact to accept was the fact that Liebgott, for all the kindness he had shown you, all the times he talked to you like you were a human being— that he most likely had the same intentions as everyone else.

As much as you relished his company, his crooked smile, his jokes, his lingering touches (and as much as you had to pretend you didn't), you had to accept his end goal was for you to warm his bed. And sure, maybe he was more dogged with his efforts than other men were, and maybe your friends in the company had told you that he was a genuine guy, but you just couldn't believe that he had anything else in mind when it came to you.

Maybe all the criticisms thrown your way had affected you more than you thought.

With the success of Operation Pegasus, Bull had dragged you (not literally, though you’re sure he could've) into a pub in the Netherlands for some celebratory drinking.

You didn't drink, and you disliked pubs; the smell of booze and drunken people was often overpowering, but at least you found quiet company with Bull. Across the room from your table, you saw Liebgott staring at you with a smile and a drink in his hand. It seemed as though he had noticed you the second you entered.

“It’s alright if I leave you alone for a second, little lady?” Bull said, chewing on a cigar like usual. “You'll be fine?”

“Sure, Bull. Go enjoy yourself.”

The large man smiled and patted you on the back before leaving to talk to some of the other men in the company.

Not one to mingle, you were only a few pages into your book when you caught the attention of an intoxicated soldier.

“Look who it is,” Cobb said to himself, hardly standing upright. You recognized his voice, seeing as this wasn’t the first time he’s derided you. “Ms. 1,000 Yards, huh. Bet the officers over at Dog Company only made up that story so it looks like you had some use.”

You ground your teeth. Typically, if you didn't give someone like him the satisfaction of an answer, they’d leave you alone. Why defend yourself and give people another word to call you: bitchy?

“What's a woman got to do in the military anyway?” Bottle in hand, he shambled towards you. “Besides suck the dicks of the men who are actually fighting.”

Steadying your uneven breath, you tried to look behind him to find Liebgott, but his body blocked your view.

Taking another swig, he spat, “That why they transferred you over from Dog Company? Those boys got their fill of you and passed you onto us, huh? Fuckin’ good for nothing slut.”

“What the fuck did you just say to her?” You heard Liebgott’s voice and felt relief wash over you.

Cobb turned around, and you caught a glimpse of an incensed Liebgott, a fierce glint to his eyes.

“Tell me what you just said to her.”

“Oh, please, Joe, you trying to get her to suck your cock faster—”

He was interrupted by a fist flying his way, toppling the inebriated man. Liebgott got on top of him and began trading punches before the surrounding men, drawn by the commotion, tried to pull him off of Cobb.

Your eyes were blown wide as you stood there, speechless. Bull found you and pulled you by the arm out of the pub.

“But what about Liebgott?” you said, peering behind you.

Bull shrugged and did the same. “Seems like he was winning anyway.”

That night in your billet, all you could think about was the fury that twisted Liebgott’s face into one you only saw on the battlefield.

And it was all for you.

-

The next day, you searched for Liebgott at breakfast, the table feeling a bit more empty without him taking up his normal spot beside you, but he had found you first, as he usually did.

“Hey, (Y/N), can I talk to you for a sec?” he said, his hand on your shoulder. You turned around in your seat and were met with a slightly bruised Liebgott, a small cut across his nose. Concern filling your chest, you nodded, and his hand held your wrist as he led you out of the mess hall.

“So, uh, about last night,” he started, rubbing the back of his neck. His eyes searched yours for how you felt about him bringing it up, but he found no hints in your unreadable expression. “I’m sorry for fighting Cobb for you. You're a strong woman, you could handle him yourself—”

Smiling at his uncharacteristic hesitance, you cut his apology short with a peck on the cheek. You pulled away and saw his temporary surprise.

“Thank you, Joe. I appreciated you standing up for me. It means a lot.”

His face broke into the widest beam you've ever seen.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked eagerly, the words spilling out of his mouth before he could even process what they were. “Shit, sorry, that was too soon—”

You answered his question by tenderly holding his bruised face with your hands and bringing his lips to yours. You could feel him grin into the kiss as he pulled you closer, and your heart just about melted.

Maybe you had gotten Joe Liebgott all wrong from the start.

“Great, he’s never gonna wash that cheek again!”

-

taglist: @mads-weasley, @ronsparky, @dcyllom, @malarkgirlypop

[starcrossedxwriter]

Wicked Fantasies Part 5 (MBJ x OC)

Warnings: Slow burn, NSWF… All the past warnings and series warnings apply lol this is just pure filth lol not gonna lie.

“Bonjour Mademoiselle Turner. Welcome to Le Hotel Shangri-La Paris. We hope you had a pleasant travel experience? I know you must be tired.” 

As if her body wanted to respond to the concierge who was leading her through the hotel, her only response was a deep yawn that made him hum in agreement. 

“Sorry… the jet lag is rough.” She had been so anxious on the flight that she had barely slept. She had thought of a million random things… the dangers of traveling alone, even though she was meeting someone else, how much time Michael would actually have to spend with her, if it was even safe to travel halfway around the world with a man she met a little over a month ago, how she knew precious little about what even they were going to do for a week. She had just boarded a flight and asked little to no questions. Once she was on the flight, it dawned on her that if something went wrong, she knew nothing and no one there. Just Michael. But still, despite those practical concerns, she did not regret the decision. She was hopeful that it was going to be as amazing as she imagined it would be as she prepared all week.

She took a sip of the glass of champagne they gave her upon arrival. She could now fully understand why the wealthy were so determined to remain so if this was how they lived. This was high living, high cotton as her grandma used to say. From the moment she stepped out of her apartment building to right now, she had not had to use her brain to think of a single thing. Everything was taken care of. She had not even touched a single piece of her luggage since she left the apartment. When she landed in Paris, she had a moment of panic as she realized she did not know how to get to her hotel. She was about to make a beeline toward a taxi when she spotted a burly driver holding a sign up with her name who took her straight to the hotel. 

The hotel was something plucked straight out of every novel she had ever read about kings and queens, a converted palace drenched in finery and elegance. The marble hallways gilded in gold, tall ceilings donned with crystal chandeliers. It was as if she had stepped back in time and was headed to a ball. And it had all been thoughtfully arranged by a certain prince. 

“Well, Mr. Jordan ensured your suite would be ready when you arrived so you can rest. Though I tend to recommend remaining awake if you can. We are in a fantastic location. There is much to see and do and we have a car here for you. Monsieur Martin, the gentleman who picked you up from Charles de Gaulle? He will be your driver during your stay. He can take you anywhere you’d like.” 

“Thank you.” 

“This,” the man opened the door to her suite. “Is our suite Chaillot.” He pushed open the door and held it so Raven could enter first, her eyes widening as she took in the suite. 

She stood in the living room, sitting her backpack on the couch as she scanned the space. The entire room felt serene, designed in shades of taupe and teal that made the space feel extremely homey for a hotel. Her hand rubbed the soft velvet fabric of the couch as she glanced around, her eyes landing on the French doors that led to her terrace. 

“Ah the best part, in my opinion,” he smiled as he watched her take a step toward the terrace. He walked over to the double doors that led to the wraparound terrace and pushed them open. 

Raven followed him outside, her eyes landing on the Eiffel Tower in the distance. She was shocked at how close it was, just over the river. 

“A perfect view of our crown jewel. Mr. Jordan’s suite and this one have my favorite views in the hotel. Some would argue that Bonaparte’s apartment has the best view but I must disagree.”

“That is spectacular,” she muttered as she leaned against the concrete railing. Paris had always been on her bucket list, one of those cities and destinations that everyone went to and raved about. She wondered if it would live up to the hype and it was already exceeding it. 

“Would you like us to set up breakfast out here for you in the morning? 9 a.m.?”

“Yes, please.” 

“Excellent. I will leave you to rest.” A knock at the door interrupted him. “Oh there are your bags. Please call down to the concierge if you would like the car brought around for you or if you need anything else. Mr. Jordan asked me to give you this,” he handed her a card from his pocket. “I hope you enjoy your stay with us and your time in Paris.”

He opened the door and helped the men place her two suitcases into the bedroom before giving her a nod and closing the door behind him. She had likely gone overboard packing but she wanted options. 

Raven stared at the door for a few moments before turning to get a 360 view of the suite. She tapped the card on her palm as she walked to the bedroom. She kicked off her sneakers and promptly flopped down onto the bed with a content giggle. 

“What the fuck is my life right now?” She whispered. 

She opened the envelope and smiled as she read his writing. 

Welcome to Paris. Kept me on my toes wondering if you were gonna come, not gonna lie. Figured you’d want the day to rest and I have press and events until late tonight. I set up treatments for you at the spa starting at 4 and got you a day pass so you can relax by the pool there. Enjoy the night and I’ll come by when I get back if you’re still awake.

Michael

Raven let out the most childish squeal of her life before letting her arm fall onto the bed. She had made an agreement with herself on the plane that she was going to indulge in all the luxuries Michael offered and she could afford to. This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity and, she knew, the only one she would get with Michael before they broke up. She was determined to enjoy every second of it. And she appreciated that he seemed to know a day of pampering was exactly what she needed. 

She glanced around, realizing she still had almost six hours until her spa treatments. She quickly grabbed another athleisure set from her bag and hopped in the shower. After a quick but still luxurious shower, she felt slightly more awake and refreshed and slid back on her shoes to go on a walk. She grabbed her wallet and AirPods before heading to the lobby. 

“Mademoiselle, would you like me to have the car brought around?” The concierge asked as she walked through the lobby. 

However, she quickly shook her head. “No, I think I’ll just walk. Thanks!” 

She would certainly get plenty of use out of the car while she was there but today, she just wanted to roam. She wanted to see the shops and people watch and just enjoy being in a new city. She put in her headphones and slid on her sunglasses before venturing down a random side street. Naturally, her feet gravitated toward the Eiffel Tower. She spent over two hours roaming the expansive parks surrounding it, getting a million pictures of the tower and selfies by the river. She knew she was giving strong tourist vibes but she could not hope to care.

She stopped for lunch at this small sandwich shop and bought a crepe from a street vendor for her walk back. By the time she returned, it was almost time for her spa evening. Not only was she thankful for the manicure, pedicure, facial, and massage, she was grateful Michael once again arranged everything for her. She was far too tired to use her brain for anything useful. She knew she was beyond exhausted when she laid down on the massage table and was asleep before the man even truly started. She only remembered him touching her shoulders before he had to wake her up and tell her the two hours were done. But every muscle in her body felt 10x more relaxed than when she first laid down so she knew it had been a success. 

She almost forewent dinner but was able to stay awake long enough to order and wait for room service. However, as soon as she finished eating, she settled into the couch and dozed off. She did not take the extra steps to get in the bed or put her phone on sleep mode because she did not want to miss Michael knocking on her door when he was back. Though she knew he would happily wait until tomorrow to see her just so he did not wake her up, she did not want that. She wanted to see him… tonight. 

And she was not disappointed when a loud knock jolted her out of her sleep. She quickly jumped up and wiped her mouth, feeling a bit of drool from her deep sleep. 

“Gross,” she muttered as her body protested getting up. 

She ran her fingers through her hair, which she had gotten blown out and pressed before the trip, knowing she had messed it up slightly by forgetting to wrap it before falling asleep. She almost tripped over her backpack to get to the door and swing it open. 

“Hey.” 

“Hi,” she offered with a smile, attempting to hide some of the excitement she felt at seeing him. 

“Didn’t mean to wake you… know it’s late.” 

She stepped aside so he could enter. “Don’t worry about it. You invited me, seems like I could stay awake long enough to say hi. This suite is insane. You could’ve just put me up in a regular room in a hotel that doesn’t cost thousands a night, you know?” 

She gave him a quick once over as he walked into the suite and perched on the arm of the couch. He was in a gorgeous red suit, perfectly tailored to his form as if it was his own skin. He looked sexy as fuck. But she could tell he was just as, if not more, exhausted than her. His usual perfect posture lacked a bit, his shoulders hunched over as if he could not hold them up any longer. His lips were tugged down in a frown and his nose was scrunched up a bit, which he typically only did when something was wrong. 

He merely shrugged and winked at her. “Maybe a regular nigga woulda done that. But that ain’t me. Have a good flight and everythin’?” 

She yawned. “Yea, didn’t sleep much but first class was…” she did the motion to say chef’s kiss causing Michael to grin brightly. 

It had only been a week but he missed her. Getting to see her this week had been the light at the end of this hellish tunnel of a press tour. He loved his job, he was living his dream and he was beyond blessed to do so. But the grind was exhausting. He had been working nonstop for almost a decade, between projects and press tours, he went and never stopped. Perhaps because he was on the most important run of his career, the pressure, the exhaustion, the weight of it all felt like tons on his back this time around. But with Raven here, he would have a reprieve, however brief each day. He could be whoever he needed to be with her and that was the rest he did not know he needed until he stood in her presence. 

“Walked around for a couple hours. Got a crepe just on the side of the road… which I’m gonna gain like 100 pounds this week between that and the pastries. The spa treatments were amazing… well, at least the ones I was awake for,” they both laughed. “Thank you for this. Seriously. Haven’t had a vacation in a while..”

“Good, I’m glad. And I know, that’s why I invited you. Glad you’re here. Oh I wanted to give you this,” he pulled out his wallet and slid out his Black card and put it in her hand. 

The mere weight of the card in her hand let her know the limit on it did not exist. 

She held it up between two of her fingers. “What’s this for?” 

“A couple things. I got a photoshoot tomorrow. Got one surprise for you in the morning but then it’s all you until the late afternoon. Then I got reservations for us for dinner. Whatever you wanna do, charge it to that card. Day after, my stylist is gonna take you shopping. All his favorite shops, they’ll pull pieces. He is instructed to ensure you buy anything you like. Don’t argue. In fact…” He glanced around for a moment and eyed her wallet on the dining table before grabbing it. 

“Hey!” She rushed forward and started grabbing at it but he held it over his head, knowing she was too short to take it from him. He held it up and rifled inside it, finding every card that could be used as currency and the cash she brought to convert. He held those in a tight grip in his fist while putting his card in it and handing her the striped wallet that now only had his card and her ID. “Give those backkk.” 

“Not a chance. I invited you so I’m payin’ for everything. The only card you touch till you land back in LA is that one. And you’ll get these back when we get home. Understood?” 

“I can’t accept that! I will happily pay for whatever I want to do when we aren’t together.” 

“You can and will accept it. I order you to,” his hand grabbed her chin to force her eyes to his. 

“I’m not on my knees… who says you can give orders right now?” She smirked at the way his eyes seemed to light up at her sass, her bratty attitude. 

He chuckled. “I see someone already forgot they have a punishment waitin’ huh? You wanna add to it?” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” she offered with a innocent smile. 

Michael tucked that away for later. Once she got over that little jet lag, he was going to tear that ass up. 

“Besides, the stores he’s takin’ you to… well, they ain’t all just for you. There’s one store where he’ll wait outside. A lingerie boutique. The staff is under specific instructions not to let you leave without, at least, one set for every night of the week. Figured I should get somethin’ out of this shopping spree.” 

Raven’s lips turned into a playful grin. “Well that does only seem fair, I suppose. Any special requests for that particular store?” 

“One set needs to be black and gold. Otherwise, it’s all you.” 

She raised an eyebrow as she realized why he wanted her in black and gold. Visions of Erik Killmonger immediately flooded her mind and a couple of visions that she knew she could never breathe out loud. Her mental break must have been obvious because Michael waved his hand to get her attention. 

“What was that?” 

“Oh nothing, nothing,” she immediately lied and cleared her throat. 

“Nahh, none of that. Tell me or I’ll double your punishment.” 

Raven wondered if she should see how far she could take it. However, she quickly remembered that he never said exactly what the punishment was going to be so she could be playing with fire. 

“I just… maybe thought about how it’s a shame you couldn’t keep your suit… from the movie,” her eyes got quiet with embarrassment. 

Michael let out a barking laugh that made her cover her face with her hands in embarrassment. 

“Baby girl, if you wanna role play, just say so.” 

She shrugged. “Eh without the hair,” she gestured up at his freshly cut fade. “It’s not the same.” 

“Really, it’s the hair?” he asked. 

She shrugged. “I mean no, it’s 100% the abs and your face. Like no one’s getting wet just cause of the hair,” she chuckled. “But the hair is the difference between you fuckin’ me as you and you sellin’ the fantasy that Erik is fuckin’ me. Otherwise it’ll just be you with a deeper voice and ruder tone,” she waved her hand dismissively. “But just… remember me for Black Panther 3 when you gotta grow the hair out again. Won’t even charge you for that date, promise.”  

He bit down the retort that he could never forget her. 

“Deal.” They stared into each other’s eyes for a moment before he cleared his throat. “Um. Friday through Sunday is all us. Do some research, let me know if there’s anything you wanna do. Figured we could hit all the big tourist things and shit. But it’s up to you. Never asked you - you been here before?” 

Raven shook her head. “Nah, went to Amsterdam after I got my MFA to celebrate but my passport hasn’t seen much love since,” she admitted. 

“MFA?”

“Masters in Fine Arts. That’s when I wrote my manuscript for my book.”

“Learn somethin’ new about you every day.”  

“I’ll do some googling, talk to my driver and see what he thinks we should do.” 

“Aight. Sounds like a plan. I’m gonna let you go to bed.” He stood up again and started to walk toward the door. 

Though she desperately needed sleep, she could not help the way her face fell at the idea of him leaving. “We aren’t gonna…” 

The disappointment on her face, those perfect puppy eyes she gave him, likely with no conscious thought on her end, made him want to amend his statement. This girl? She would be the end of him but a glorious end indeed. However, he knew he shouldn’t and that she deserved a night to actually get sleep this week. 

“Oh I plan on fuckin’ you on every surface in this room and mine for the next week. Don’t worry. But not tryin’ to have you fall asleep on me. Take tonight, get situated and get over the jet lag.” 

“Understood.” 

He leaned on the door handle for a moment before turning to her. “Don’t fall asleep on the couch again,” he warned. “Get in bed… bad for your back. And you’re gonna need all your limbs workin’at their best this week. See you tomorrow.” 

She merely giggled as he opened her door and left. However, before the door slammed shut, she ran forward and stuck her head in the hall searching for him. 

“Hey!” She called after him, causing him to turn around at the end of the hallway. “Thank you again… for all of this.” 

“Don’t mention it.” He threw her his boyish grin before disappearing into the elevator. 

***

“A bit early for a summons, don’t you think?” Raven moaned playfully as she walked out onto Michael’s terrace. The sun sat high in the sky, a slight breeze making the late fall morning a bit frigid. 

He merely laughed and gestured toward the empty seat across from him, the table outside heavy laden with breakfast foods. 

“Have a late start today, figured we could eat breakfast. How’d you sleep? Feelin’ alright?” She could hear the cockiness in his voice. 

Raven’s eyes narrowed. “Like a baby… never felt better. Thanks for asking.”

While that was not necessarily true, she would not let him know that. He had done a number on her last night in all the best ways. Even as she sat there smiling at him innocently, she had to avoid shifting uncomfortably to ease the discomfort of her sore ass. Her punishment had been long and severe, her body draped over his lap as he spanked her 50 times. He had dragged it out, the spankings split up by his finger teasing her entrance but never letting her cum. That is until she was in a pool of tears with a bruised ass begging for mercy. After that, he let her cum more times than she could remember or count. It was the first time he left her with actual bruises but she did not mind, it was a punishment she would endure over and over again for those results. 

“Good to know for next time. I was goin’ easy on you. Besides, you were such a good girl last night, I have a treat for you.” 

Raven’s eyes twinkled. “The shopping spree I’m about to go on isn’t the treat?” His stylist, Brian, had sent her a list of all the stores they were going to today and Raven could not wait. She was not one to care much for labels, after all there were more important things. However, it was clear that she had free reign to shop until her heart dropped. Such a rare opportunity she knew she could not waste. 

“Nope. This one… well I think you’ll enjoy it.” 

Raven smiled as she took a sip from her cup of hot chocolate. Michael handed her a plate, piled high with fruit and pastries, which she devoured as they sat in silence. 

“How was the library yesterday?” Michael asked as he continued eating. 

Thus far, her experience had been something straight out of a novel. She could not have written a more perfect fairytale herself. She had woken up yesterday to a similar spread on her own terrace, complete with a mimosa. She listened to R&B music as she sat out there in her nightgown for over an hour. The only thing that broke her out of the peace trance was a call from the concierge letting her know her car would be ready at 11 for a surprise. 

She tried her hardest to guess what the surprise could be or coax it out of her driver but there was too much to see and do to pinpoint what Michael had set up. She had started a list of things she wanted to see when he finally had time off but she had fallen asleep with her phone in her hand. 

She still was not sure why he was going to such lengths for her. The cost of her hotel alone was more than most people made in a year. She knew the price, to him, was comparable to putting her up in a four star hotel for a regular man. However, she still struggled with accepting such extravagance, and could not stop the intrusive thoughts that questioned whether she was worth so much money and effort. After all, they were going to break up in a few months. She tried not to allow that to disappoint her every time her brain reminded her heart of that simple fact. That was what she signed up for: a relationship with a firm expiration date. Her brain knew that. Her heart though? It did not care about the practicalities of what she signed up for. It only cared for how he made her feel: wanted, appreciated, cared for. 

And that was rare air. 

Still, she could not help but wonder why he even invited her there in the first place. He mentioned no events he needed her to attend with him, no public appearances in which he needed a woman on his arm. Yesterday and today, she was on her own. He had essentially paid an exorbitant amount to give her a vacation for a week. She was itching to get to the later half of the week when they would actually be able to spend time together. When it was just the two of them, Michael became the singular space in this world where no one wanted anything from her. She could just be. Sometimes she had everything to give and sometimes, like her birthday, she had nothing. And he seemed to accept either without judgment or question. And she needed that. 

Yesterday, his surprise was a guided tour of the oldest public library in Paris, Le Bibliothèque Mazarine. Raven had a ball as she took in the insanely beautiful architecture and special collections the curator showed her. She simultaneously loved and despised him for it, for his thoughtfulness and how in tune he was with her. 

“It was gorgeous… the architecture?? God, there are so many gorgeous libraries in the world. This was certainly one of them. Can’t wait till I can afford a house and build out a giant library in the basement,” she mused. “That’s the dream.” 

Michael silently put that knowledge away for later. 

“I’m glad you enjoyed it. Figured, you know, given your day job, it might be cool.” 

“It was. And it’s not just… my day job. I’ve always loved libraries. You know I used to spend hours at the library down the street from us? Holed up in a corner with a stack of books or my homework. Knew every person who worked there by name. They’d have to kick me out at closing,” she chuckled as she wiped the flakes of her chocolate croissant from her lips. “I had a favorite corner, by this window that overlooked the park across the street. You could hear the kids playing. If I wasn’t at school or at home, I was in that spot.” 

“No one ever cared that you weren’t home?” 

She scoffed, holding her mug tightly in her hands as she cozied up in her chair, one leg coming to her chest. Michael loved how relaxed she looked. She had not gotten fully ready for the day yet, no make up, her hair in a high ponytail. She was dressed in a casual dress with a slouchy oversized sweatshirt that hung off one shoulder. Her back was to the Eiffel Tower and somehow one of the most beautiful structures in the world was still eclipsed by her natural beauty. He could not take his eyes off her. 

“After my grandmother passed? Nope. And by high school, I preferred to just be out of the house anyway. Everyone just pretended like I wasn’t there so it hurt less… to just not be there. Spent time at friends’ houses or at the library or I was at school but that was really it. But it was good. When all you do is read and study, you tend to do well in school.” 

“No parties? No fun?” Michael asked, part of him not believing she engaged in nothing fun or reckless as a kid.. 

She laughed. “No, not really. I don’t think I even drank until I was in college. I was so boring back then, which is why my first career choice… well anyone who knew me would’ve thought it was an odd one.”

“Why’d you pick stripping? Plenty of ways to make money.” 

“Needed something I could do at night, after classes and my work study job. Doesn’t require past experience and the owner liked that I looked young, had the whole innocent girl doe-eyed thing going for me. I picked up on the dancing and tricks pretty quickly too. It was fun… in its own way.”

“Who taught you your moves?” 

“Monique… best dancer I ever saw. Taught me every trick in the book. She had been dancing for like 5 years when I started. Took me under her wing, I guess.” 

“Really? That’s a long time.” 

Raven shrugged, leaning on the table as she reminisced on a time that felt like eons ago. “Everyone does it for a different reason. Some don’t have much of a choice, some are working their way through something else, like I did. And some girls really liked it. Monique was a girl who really liked it. And it showed. She was saving up to open her own burlesque club, which I think she did a couple years ago.” 

“Did you like it?” 

She stared off into space for a moment before answering. “I guess it was nice to be the center of attention… the spotlight for once. I was a wallflower 20 hours a day but during my shift, I was more. Men wanted me, some of the girls wanted to be me. I didn’t hate it. I don’t miss it… but I miss who I was on that stage. The confidence, the power… it was something. Could never quite get it to translate to regular life though. Certainly couldn’t get it to translate to being a working girl,” she grimaced. “It’s just not the same though.” 

“And you never felt exploited by it? Or scared?” 

She shook her head. “Not any more than cat calling on the street makes me feel scared. First thing Monique told me when I met her - Sex is power, one of the few powers that women inherently have that men don’t. Always has been and always will be. And it's the one power that, try as they might, they can’t take away. Everyone sees it and their place in it differently. But I always remembered that they were there to see me, spend money on me. And whether they had a good night or not, whether they went home satisfied and happy, that was all my decision. And I liked that.” He liked the sparkle in her eyes as she talked about that time. “I dunno if stripping is proper breakfast conversation.” 

“It ain’t but I like it anyway. One last question… tell me your name?” At her confused expression, he clarified. “The one you used at the club.” 

“Give me my treat and I’ll tell you.” 

Michael gestured for her to stand up. “Come here.” 

She walked over to him and stood between his legs. His hands took free reign, running up her toned legs beneath her dress, tightly gripping her ass, which made her hiss in pain.

“I thought you never felt better?” 

“Shut up,” she mumbled with a small huff. 

He shifted a few of the dishes out of the way before pulling her sweatshirt and dress off, leaving her in nothing but her panties. He pushed her gently, a silent but clear instruction to lay down. 

She glanced behind her at the pastries and food. “Someone’s gonna have to clean all this up if they fall.” 

“Guess you’ll have to be careful then.” At her continued hesitation, he smiled. “I’ll leave a bigger tip for the staff, aight? Now lay tf down.” 

At his command and assurance that the staff would be compensated for their games, she gently laid back, cringing as she heard one plate crash down onto the stone floor as Michael pulled off her panties. He draped her legs over his shoulders and leaned forward in his seat, his face eye level with her prize. 

“W-what are you doing?” She asked quietly, the anticipation getting to her as he merely stared at her. She squirmed uncomfortably under his gaze.  

“About to finish breakfast,” he muttered as if it was obvious. “This is better than anything else on this table.” 

And with that, he slid a finger inside her, Raven’s back immediately arching off the table. She bit down on her lip hard to stop a moan from escaping her as he wrapped his lips around her clit. He glanced up at her and stopped. 

“I wanna hear you. And I want everyone in this hotel to hear you.” 

And with that, he devoured her. Michael loved any chance he got to taste her and find himself nestled between her thighs with her pleasure completely at his mercy. However, today was particularly special. This was the most relaxed he had ever seen her, the most at peace she had been since he met her. And it did not hurt that the backdrop for his favorite meal was the best view of his favorite city. 

One hand kept her firmly in place as she writhed on the table while the other, in sync with his tongue, did nothing short of the Lord’s work. 

Her hips rolled to meet every thrust of his fingers. 

“You like that, baby girl?” He moaned as he slid another finger inside her, both of them curling into her g-spot at a quick speed.

“F-Fuck! Yes, yes! I l-love it!” She cried out loudly, knowing her voice most certainly would carry to their neighbors. But with the promise of an orgasm at the end of this, she could not hope to care. 

Michael certainly had pushed her limitations farther than she would have expected since they started “dating.” Everything he tried, she loved. Every limit he pressed against, she yielded and every time? It exceeded her wildest dreams and fantasies. Public sex was one of those lines she always wanted to cross but knew it was too wild to do so. And yet, Michael seemed to know all her fantasies, even the ones she felt were too wild and wicked to speak out loud. 

Michael reached over and grabbed a piece of ice from the ice bucket that held a bottle of champagne. He could tell she was so consumed by his fingers that she did not even notice. But she would. 

He put the ice in his mouth while he continued to fuck her, sucking on it for a few moments before diving back in. The moment his cold lips and tongue touched her sensitive bud, she came. Fast and hard as if someone had pushed her off a cliff without warning. She could not control the loud slew of expletives that escaped her lips as he sucked, the cold temperature sending shivers of pleasure through her whole body. 

“That’s it. Scream for daddy,” he muttered as he talked her through her orgasm. However, he was far from done and far from letting her tap out as he put another cube in his mouth and pressed it directly against her clit. 

“I-It’s too m-much!” She clamped her legs around his head, her entire body nearly seizing up from the pressure and pleasure the cold provided. She tried to shy away from it, moving hastily, causing another dish to crash around them. But his firm palm on her stomach stopped her from getting away. 

“Nah, you said you were better than ever. You can take this shit. Open your fuckin’ eyes.”

She forced her eyes open as tears spilled out, “M-Michael… I-I’m g-gonna cu-cum…” 

“Let ‘em hear you. Whose pussy is this?” He demanded, lifting his head as he added another finger and hammered into her. “Look at me!” He ordered, towering over her body with such dominance that, even without him touching her, she could’ve cum on the spot. 

She locked eyes with him as he added another finger, four in total and pressed roughly into her spot. She could see her juices glistening in the sun on the hairs of his beard. She hoped he would give her a taste, she loved it when he had her to taste herself.  

“It’s yours!” She cried out loudly, louder than she would’ve liked, as she came all over his hand again. 

“That’s right. Good girl,” he talked her through her orgasm before pulling out of her. 

He held his fingers up to her face, all four completely covered in her juices. “Suck.” 

She opened her mouth immediately and propped herself up, sucking with earnestness as she enjoyed the taste of herself. 

“You like the way you taste, baby?” He asked, enjoying the feeling of her warm mouth on his fingers. 

She merely hummed her response and showed him how much by continuing to suck on his fingers. When she was satisfied she cleaned them to the best of her ability, she released them with a pop and a smile that made Michael want to fall to his knees and start over again. 

“That’s my good girl,” he whispered before leaning over and kissing her softly. 

She let out a sharp exhale before collapsing back against the table with a chuckle. 

“That was… fucking amazing,” she muttered as she laid there, completely naked, contemplating the meaning of life. “You wanna do that every morning this week?” 

“Sounds like a good ass time to me.” She started to move off the table when a strong hand gripped her thigh, halting her movements. “I didn’t tell your ass to move. Lay there till I’m done.” He picked back up his coffee mug and his phone before grabbing his previously discarded plate. 

She wanted to protest but instead she merely laid back down as instructed. From that moment until the end of his breakfast, he treated her like a mere centerpiece of the table. Something to gaze upon and fondle but nothing more. He disappeared into his bedroom once, returning a few moments later. He said nothing and offered her no explanation as he held out nipple clamps, both connected with a chain. He worked in silence as he put both of them on her erect buds before settling down to resume his coffee. Her eyes twisted up for a moment at the sharp pain before it settled down to a dull ache. With the clamps, everything felt 10 times more sensitive, even the cool breeze made her want to touch her aching boobs. But she had been scolded once already for moving so she merely laid there.

Her eyes followed his frame as he sauntered around the terrace with his coffee cup, lazily refilling it as he scrolled on his phone. His joggers sat low on his hips, showcasing that perfect V that led to one of her favorite parts of him. She licked her lips, wishing he had allowed her to taste him as he had her. Lust curled in her belly as she watched his muscles flex as he moved around. Here she was, laying on a table in the middle of Paris like a human flower arrangement, and all she could think about was how sexy he was. A God among men. 

Every so often, he would return to her and tug on the chain connecting the clamps, sending jolts of pleasurable pain right to her core. And after, he’d give her a bite of whatever pastry he was continuing to eat. She appreciated him remembering that the rest of her breakfast had been a sacrificial lamb to their activities. 

This continued until his manager called him. Michael reminded her that good girls keep quiet before he answered, putting the phone on speaker to incentivize her. She had to stifle a laugh as she heard him say he was just “enjoying a lazy morning on the terrace” before heading to an event. She listened as they talked about the film and numbers and his schedule, while he trailed pieces of ice around her nipples and under her breasts and down the soft panes of her stomach. That made her eyes roll back into her head. 

She loved nipple play. She had heard of women orgasming from that alone but she had never experienced it herself. However, as Michael talked about business, he seemed determined to get her there with that alone. The clamps increased the pleasure of every touch as he fondled her.

She thought she would draw blood as she bit down on her lip to stop the moans from escaping her as he played, contrasting the warmth of his mouth with the coldness of the ice when he had to talk. 

“Yea once we settle all this shit with the Coach deal, we’ll be set,” Alex remarked as Michael sat the phone down on Raven’s stomach so he could give each of her boobs the attention they deserved. When he bit down on the swell of her breast, she let out a groan that she prayed was barely audible. It reached his ears, she knew, but the oblivious woman on the other end did not even skip a beat. “How’s Raven enjoying Paris?” 

Michael threw her a smirk and pressed a finger to his lip as he continued doing what he was doing, Raven trying her hardest to quiet the pants of pleasure that wanted to escape. 

“Oh I think she’s enjoyin’ it just fine.” 

“I’m glad. Post something of the two of you while you’re there. Doesn’t have to be much but let’s make sure we’re getting something out of these extra four days you’re spending there instead of continuing to promote your movie.” 

Despite the fog of pleasure, Alex’s words stuck out to Raven, settling into her brain. She did not have the capacity to contemplate them too hard right then but she tucked them away for later. 

“Yes ma’am. I’ll make sure we all get somethin’ out of it. Anything else for me?” he assured her as he pulled the clamps off roughly, causing Raven to clamp her hand over her mouth to muffle the scream as the blood rushed back to her breasts. To top it off, he clamped his mouth around one of them while his fingers pinched the other, causing her whole body to convulse with her third orgasm of the day. And it was not even 10 am yet. 

“Nope, that is it. Have fun today and don’t forget to get something for your favorite manager while you’re there,” Alex continued. 

Raven felt her entire vision go white as she focused all of her attention on muffling the screams of pain and pleasure that were boiling over.

“Sounds good. Listen, I gotta go. Someone here needs my attention. Let’s talk tonight.”  

He signed off quickly, pulling Raven’s hands from her mouth so he could hear the sounds of her pleasure, which were music to his ears. He gave her a few moments to calm down before he leaned over and kissed her. 

“Now you can get up and finish your breakfast. Take your time.” 

“You’re… a menace. I hope you… know that,” she whispered, her hand pressing into her chest as she tried to calm herself down. “It’s not even lunchtime and you’re trying to kill me.” 

“Let’s not pretend like that wouldn’t be a better way to go.” He winked at her before pulling on her arm to help her sit up and disappearing inside to change into his own clothes. 

Raven took a deep breath, her hand massaging one of her aching breasts as she sat there for a moment. She finally forced herself off the table, her legs almost giving out beneath her before she collapsed into his chair. She grabbed a few pieces of fruit and a danish as she sat there, contemplating how he continued to manage to surprise her. 

. 

She took a moment and gathered her thoughts before she slid her clothes back on just as Michael emerged back onto the terraces in a burnt orange sweater and slacks. 

“You good? Enjoyed your treat?” 

“Yea… yea I did. Can’t tell if it was more for you or me though.” 

“First part was for you, second was for me. Now you’re relaxed and can go spend all my money. Brian’ll be waiting for you downstairs in an hour. Don’t forget… black and gold.” 

“I’ll see what I can do.” She winked at him before walking past him to head back to her suite. 

***

Raven could not believe how quickly the week seemed to pass her by. She could not help but be sad that it was already almost over. Their flight home was tomorrow and despite having a week there, it did not feel like enough. She had enjoyed every single second of it, particularly the last three days with Michael. They spent those days hitting everything they could think of, the major tourist attractions and some off the beaten path. 

Michael had clearly forgone his diet for this particular trip and the pair ate any and everything that looked remotely good, particularly anything with carbs. She savored this long stretch of uninterrupted time the pair had together. At home, they just saw each other for dates and talked on the phone at night. But the last three days, they were together from breakfast until the moment he finished and she slid out of his bed to return to her own. It made her sad to leave in the middle of the night, to end their private time together, but she knew she had to. They took tons of pictures, the least curated ones they had ever taken. Neither of them cared to pretend these were for the masses and tabloids when they were just for them, their opportunity to capture those moments together. 

By the time they returned to the hotel Sunday afternoon, Raven could not hide her melancholy attitude about having to leave. 

“You good?” Michael asked as he escorted her back to her suite.

“Yea, yea,” she smiled sadly. “Just sad to be leaving. Not gonna get another experience like this for a long while,” she shrugged. “But once-in-a-lifetime experiences aren’t called that for nothing, I guess.” She leaned on the door frame of her suite. 

“Well… surprises ain’t over yet. Couple things waiting for you in there. Get some rest, make up and hair will be here at 7. Be dressed and downstairs at 8.” 

“That’s all you’re gonna give me??” 

“Wouldn’t be a surprise if I gave you anythin’ else. See you at 8.” And with that, he turned to head back to his own suite. 

Raven quickly entered her own room, racing to the bedroom to find the black and gold lingerie set she bought laying out on the bed. Next to it lay a jewelry box set and hanging on her closet door was black dress that was fit for someone heading to a ball. She opened the box to find diamond earrings and a diamond choker necklace waiting for her. 

“God I love him,” she whispered to herself as she took everything in. And she did, she loved him. She could never say it or admit it to anyone but God and herself but she did. And it was not the material things, it was his thoughtfulness… that he would even think to arrange something like this for them. That’s what she loved. And that is what she would miss when it was all said and done. 

Raven did not get any rest as Michael instructed. She merely laid in bed, scrolling on tik tok and counting down the minutes until she could get dressed. Around 6:30, she got up and got in the shower, taking her time before Michael’s team arrived. 

They worked quickly but efficiently and had her dressed and ready to go by 7:50. She spent five minutes just staring at herself in the mirror. She spun around a couple of times, examining the dramatic dress Michael had chosen for her. It was unlike anything she would have gravitated toward herself but she loved it. It was a showstopping, head turning dress. She always felt like a million bucks when she and Michael went out. But tonight? Tonight, she felt like billions. 

Brian took a couple photos of her on the terrace since the sun was setting before she left her room to meet Michael. As promised, he was waiting in the foyer for her in a black tux. It was simple but he looked gorgeous. And as she got closer, she realized the detailing on his jacket matched that of the bodice of her dress. 

She stretched her arms out as if to ask what he thought, the actor completely silent as he took her in. 

Raven bit her painted lip, fear gripping her as she mistook his silence for displeasure. “D-do you not like it?” However, before he could give her an answer, she answered for him. “It’s not what you wanted is it? Fuck. I’m sorry… I t-thought the dress was a little tight but Brian assured me it wasn’t and I knew I shouldn’t have eaten all those damn pastries and crepes this week. But I’m a slave to a crepe,” she moaned pitifully. “Not an ounce of self control. And I didn’t have good enough spanx for this type of dress. I s-should’ve known it didn’t look right. You got me this beautiful dress and I probably look like a fucking whale o-or a busted can of biscuits or something horrible. I’m sorry, I can go change?” she offered, already turning away from him to race upstairs and hide under the covers. 

However, before she made it more than two steps, a force grabbed her and pulled her back. She quickly found herself in his arms, Michael holding her flush to his chest. He kissed her deeply, silencing any more rants, concerns, or criticisms that could have fallen from her lips. He did not want to hear any of them. He pulled back to look at her, his finger on her chin to keep her eyes on his. 

“You gotta let me answer before you start spiraling, baby girl. You are exactly what I wanted and exceeded my expectations. I was speechless because I didn’t think I had the right words to describe how fuckin’ gorgeous you look.” 

“Really?” she asked quietly. 

“Really. One thing I’d never do is lie to you, hope you know that by now. You ready?” 

She nodded and allowed him to lead her out of the hotel and into their limo. They spent most of the car ride recapping the last three days and their favorite parts of the trip. 

Soon they pulled up to a restaurant and Michael led her into the elevator. It went straight up to a rooftop, one that overlooked the entire city. Paris was beautiful any time of day but night time eclipsed all the others in her opinion. 

“Bonjour Mr. Jordan,” a waiter approached them as they stepped off of the elevator. 

He led them to their table, which offered a perfect view of the city. There was a dance floor in the middle of the roof and a small stage that held a string quartet that was softly playing music. The railings were covered in string lights. 

“This place is amazing… how is it so empty?” Raven muttered to Michael as he held out her chair for her to sit. 

“Bought it out just for us.” 

Raven shook her head in disbelief. “No way…” At his completely serious face, she gasped. “Wait, you’re serious? How much did that cost??” 

“Didn’t matter. Wanted to come here and have the place and that view to ourselves.” 

Raven laughed. “That’s wild. Not mad at it though. This view probably makes it worth every penny.” Raven let out a content sigh as she stared off into the depths of Paris, not realizing that the city was not the view Michael was admiring as he muttered. 

“Yea, it does.” 

They settled into content silence as the waiter brought them a bottle of wine and let them know they would be enjoying the chef’s signature tasting menu. Slowly, course after course made its way to them as they talked and enjoyed the evening. By the time they reached dessert, Raven felt as if she was floating on a cloud that she never wanted to come down from. 

The familiar refrain from the string quartet filled her ears. “Oh I love this song,” she muttered more to herself than the man across from her. 

“You recognize it?” 

She nodded. “La Vie en Rose… I know the Louis Armstrong version but pretty sure he covered it in English from a French artist.” 

“Don’t know if I’ve heard that one before. My French is trash,” he chuckled. “What does that phrase mean?”  

“Means to see the world in pink, you know with rose colored glasses essentially. It’s a beautiful song, the lyrics are so romantic.” She paused. “Hold me close and hold me fast. This magic spell you cast… this is la vie en rose. When you kiss me, heaven sighs and though I close my eyes, I see la vie en rose. When you press me to your heart, I’m in a world apart… a world where roses bloom. And when you speak, angels sing from above… everyday words seem to turn into love songs. Give your heart and soul to me and life will always be la vie en rose.” 

The two merely stared at each other as the words settled into the space between them. Raven felt every word of that song with him. But every time she wanted to sink into that feeling, melt into him, her brain stopped her. She merely cleared her throat and chuckled, breaking the trance both of them were in. 

“Don’t ask me to sing it though,” she joked. “I’m dreadful.” She took a long, awkward sip of her wine before Michael stood up and held out his hand. 

“Dance with me.” Since it was only them in the restaurant, the dance floor was wide open and available. 

She glanced at the string quartet as the song transitioned to XO by Beyonce. She hesitated for a moment before sliding her hand into his. He pulled her to the center of the dance floor, their bodies flushed against each other. 

The entire night had been perfect, filled with romance and magic Raven never thought she would have herself. She knew it was for show but she could not deny that there was an intimacy to it that felt… real. Felt like they were truly connecting with each other at a deeper level. When he looked at her, sometimes, she swore she saw it. A twinkle of something too deep… too paralyzing to be mere friendship. But every time, she felt like she imagined it. Maybe even hoped she imagined it because that would be easier. She knew it would not be her but as she looked at him, she could not help but think he enjoyed this. The romance, going above and beyond to show someone you love them. And now he just needed someone, a real someone, to do it with.

She stared at him for a few moments as they swayed in each other’s arms. “Tell me about her.” 

Michael did not need her to elaborate on who she meant. Michael shook his head. He had the perfect woman in his arms, there was not a single woman in his past worth talking about right then.

“Why does she matter?” 

Raven shrugged. “Because she’s gone and you’re still shutting yourself off from things I think… you’re too afraid to admit you really want. You want this,” she gestured between them. “Not with me, obviously,” she chuckled. “But this, this connection with someone who you love and loves you back. Does she really still have so much power that she can take this away from you forever?” 

Michael wished he could grab her shoulders and shake her. So beautiful and so smart yet so oblivious to the hints he was throwing out left and right. He did want those things but not with anyone but her. He had hoped the last week would paint the picture for her. He knew he should just come out and say it himself but he was not brave enough… not yet anyway to admit that he was head over heels for someone again. Because Raven did have that much power. She controlled his heart and very being. And if he said those words to her and she rejected him or broke his heart? She would be the last woman he ever said them to again. 

“Not that interestin’ of a story to be honest. But she was… an actor too. Not super well known but you know, steady workin’ and everythin’. Met on the set of a show I was workin’ on. We hit it of.. She was the first woman to really understand me? Understood my dreams and my ambition. I understood hers, I had been in the industry longer so I helped her out, making connections and all that. We dated for almost three years. First relationship that I saw a real future in, even bought a ring.” He sighed as he glanced down at Raven, their bodies swaying to the music. “But all she cared about was using me to get to the next thing. Saw a text on her phone one night, she was cheating on me with another nigga. Had been for most of the time we were together. Left me for someone with more money, bigger name. We broke up and she acted like it was nothin’... as if three years of living life together hadn’t mattered at all. Felt stupid for not seein’ it, for thinkin’ there was a future there… but also for believin’ she loved me for me. Went on a binge afterward… lots of partyin’, drinkin’, fuckin’ every woman I could see. Decided that if that was all everyone was gonna see or care about, the money and all that… then that’s all I would give.” 

“I’m sorry. No one deserves that. She’s dumb. Too stupid to realize what she had.” She paused. “You can’t give up though… gotta keep trying to find the right girl. Keep reaching out your hand until it happens.”  

“Not all of us have your annoyingly relentless hope and optimism. More worried about my hand getting ripped off.” 

“It might,” she admitted. “But I dunno, I’ve always believed heartbreak is the price we pay for love. At the end of the day, we’re all standing on a giant cliff and when you take that leap with someone, you can’t see the bottom. You just hold hands and you jump and you experience the fall that is living life together until you crash into the water. Whether you’ll enjoy the fall, whether rocks or an oasis are waiting for you, whether your fall is long or short. We have no idea, which is why jumping is so scary. But the only thing that’s certain is the crash at the end because all of it ends. Whether you get the greatest love story that goes on until the end of your life or a tragedy that gets cut short because other shit gets in the way. All of it ends. That’s the price, the fall isn’t forever. But when it ends and that heartache comes, the hope is that you look back on it all and see the life you lived and that it was all worth it. And so you’re willing to pick yourself up, dry yourself off, and go back up to the cliff and do it all over again. If you’re avoiding the crash, you aren’t jumping and that means you aren’t living. And there’s a woman out there somewhere who pulled herself out of the water and 's willing and waiting for you to be ready to take the leap with her. Who knows you’re the person they want to free fall with and who will make it worth it.” She ran her hand over the material of his tuxedo jacket. “It’s a shame because while you’re avoiding the cliff altogether, people don’t get to see how amazing you are.” 

“You really are a writer,” he mused, causing her eyes to crinkle at the corners and her whole body glow. “Only someone who writes love stories can think of some shit like that. But I hear you. I dunno though, most people can see how amazing my life is. I don’t think that’s the problem.” 

Raven scoffed and shook her head. “Your money, the things you can buy?” she gestured around them. “Those are the least interesting things about you,” she remarked flatly. “You’re funny. I would’ve never guessed you were as funny as you are. You’re thoughtful, you see through people, through the bullshit and facades and the walls. You see them, the one they hide from the rest of the world. You’re smart and engaging and so clearly care about every person in your life. Every woman I know wants that. Hell I want that,” she laughed, not noticing the joy that sparked in his eyes at those words. “And all of this is lovely and amazing but most of us can be happy without it. She told you that all you’re worth to people is money and clout and things. But the version of you I see right now is more than enough. And there’s someone out there who knows that too.” 

Her hand cupped his cheek as she spoke, Michael learning in and kissing her softly. She had kissed him many times but there was something different about this one, something that made her want to profess her love for him right then and there. 

She leaned back and studied him for a moment. “I hope… I hope when this ends, that we can still be friends? This was all really special. You made me feel like a real princess this week. Made me feel wanted and cared for in a way most people don’t. I was in… not the best of places when we met. Seeing a lot of darkness and no light at the end of the tunnel. But all of this, I dunno, reaffirms that annoyingly relentless hope and optimism. Things do turn around eventually. And this’ll all end but I’ll never forget the things you’ve done for me since we met.” 

He spun her around for a moment before bringing her close again. 

“I didn’t do anything,” he muttered in her ear. “Just gave you the space to be you. You’re far from a wallflower or sidekick or however you described yourself to me on our first date. You’re powerful, smart, beautiful… promise me you’ll take this version of you, the real you… the main character version of you back to the real world tomorrow. You do that and I’ll work on takin’ your advice,” his hand played with the curls in her hair as he spoke. “And then… what’s that line from Casablanca? We’ll always have Paris.”  

“Seems like we both need to work on seeing ourselves how the other sees us.”

“Well we got plenty of time to work on it.” 

“Yea… guess we got a few more months before I gotta let you go.” She could not hide the sadness in her words. She was resigned, knew their fate but that did not make it hurt any less. 

His heart screamed at him to tell her she didn’t have to let him go. They didn’t have to end just because of some agreement they made under stress. They could try it out for real, love each other for real. But the words felt lodged in his throat. His fears, now top of mind since their conversation, were massive blockages that would not allow it out. He wanted her, it hurt how badly he wanted her. But that terrified him. 

They danced for a few more minutes before the song, which she recognized as All of Me by John Legend, came to an end. 

“Let’s go back to my suite. Got one more surprise.”

Though she did not want the romantic part of the evening to end, she could not deny she was looking forward to the other part of the night. Michael had kept true to his promise and fucked her on every surface in his suite and hers. Her favorite, though, had been that morning on the terrace. She’d never forget that. 

So she put up no argument when he led her back to their limo and whisked her away to the hotel. She hated the time in between the end of their date and the start of their more private moments. Time seemed to inch forward as slowly as possible, the anticipation always felt like torture. She was practically bouncing out of her skin when they finally made it to his suite. 

However, instead of opening the door, he stopped her.

“Close your eyes.” 

The game was starting early, she thought to herself, which signaled she was in for a long and wild night. The romantic Michael was about to disappear and the dominant one would stand in his place. She rolled her eyes and pouted like a brat before following his instructions. However, she could not let the moment pass without a warning. “If you lead me into a door, I’m gonna kill you.” 

“I don’t think French prisons are that nice so wouldn’t recommend that. Trust me, you know I’d never hurt you.” 

She snorted as he led her into his room, her feet taking extremely small tentative steps that made Michael chuckle to himself. After a few steps, he stopped her. 

“Ok open.” 

She blinked a couple times before gasping, her eyes taking in the chrome stripper pole in the middle of his living room. His couch had been pushed away and a singular armchair was in front of the pole like a throne in front of a stage. 

Michael walked into his bedroom and came back with a wad of cash. “Figured you could give me a private show? Besides you forgot to tell me your name the other morning.”  

Raven ran her thumb over the cash, fanning it out lightly. All she saw were hundreds. She stepped around him and walked over to the pole, her manicured nails tapping on the chrome as she strutted around it in her dress. The elegant gown now seemed out of place in a room with a stripper pole. But the lingerie number she had on underneath would fit in perfectly. 

“How much?” 

“What?” He asked as he went over to the decanter in his room and poured two glasses of whiskey. He handed her one, Raven downing it immediately. She needed the extra liquid courage to do what he was requesting.

“Did it cost to convince them to let you pressure mount this into the ceiling?” 

Michael turned off the lights and strode over the chair and sat down, his face and body illuminated by the moonlight and lights from the Eiffel Tower through the giant windows. Raven licked her lips as she took in his power, his body slouched back and his legs spread wide. A king on his throne waiting to be entertained. 

“I’m sure you’ll make it worth every penny.”

She chuckled. “You are something else,” she muttered. “I went by Nova… Name of a character in a book I was reading at the time.” 

He chuckled. “Definitely thought you were gonna say somethin’ a little more out… stereotypical,” he admitted.

Raven snorted. “The market was oversaturated with Candys. Besides, I like to be different.” 

“So tell me, Nova, how often did the niggas you danced for throw benjamins at that fine ass?” He took a sip of his drink. 

“Not often enough.” 

“I imagine you’ll enjoy the experience then. Dance for me.” 

Raven could not help the way her legs clenched together at the demand, the juxtaposition of how he asked her to dance with him a mere hour ago. He turned on the speakers, sultry music filling the room. She had not danced in so long, it was true. She felt like part of her should have been nervous but she was not. It was like riding a bike, a skill she knew she’d never truly lose. And though she may not have the strength to do any tricks anymore, she guessed Michael knew and did not care much about that.

She reached behind her to unzip her dress, allowing it to fall to the floor. She quickly threw it on a chair so it did not get wrinkled on the ground. She kept on her heels, though they were not tall enough to give the effect she wanted. The gold accents of her black lingerie glittered in the moonlight as she approached his chair. Her hips swayed with the music, her hands roamed her own body as she went, her eyes trained on him. 

Once she was in arm’s length, he immediately lifted his hands to grab for her but she stopped and held herself just out of his grasp. She shook her finger at him with a teasing smile. 

“No touching… club rules.” 

Michael letting out a menacing chuckle. “You’re gonna regret that later, baby girl.”

“I don’t think I am, daddy. Rules are rules. You like the lingerie I got for you?” She asked as she turned and leaned back on him, her ass grinding on his lap. She could feel him growing hard beneath her, loved how his hands curled into fists as he physically stopped himself from touching her. 

“Fuckin’ perfect. Think it’ll look better on the floor though…” 

“I dunno, I like it better like this.” 

She knew he was realizing just how out of control he truly was. This was her stage and she had all the power. The power to entice, to tease, to give, and to take away. 

She slid onto her knees beneath him, crawling away from him and back to her pole. She could feel his eyes trained on her ass as she moved. She knew it looked absolutely perfect, it was the main reason she purchased this particular set. She looked like a goddess and she felt like one too. 

For the next 15 minutes, she put on the best show of her life as Michael rained bills on her as if he could not get enough. She allowed the music to flow through her and thought of nothing other than pleasing him. Every movement tailored to his reaction, the spark in his eyes when she spread her legs, the way he bit his lip as she fondled her breasts, how he so clearly resisted undoing his tuxedo pants to pleasure himself when she finally stripped her bra off. She threw it at him, his hand catching it with ease and precision. She allowed herself to get lost in it, lost in the spotlight and the feeling of his eyes laser focused on her. All those things Michael said she was? In that moment, she felt it… like a queen. 

Meanwhile, Michael was beyond mesmerized. He could have watched her dance for hours and hours and it would not have felt like long enough. She moved as if born for a stage of some sort. This was a side of her he had never seen, a woman who knew her power and proudly stood in it. He wished he could punch any and everyone who diminished this version of her, who chipped away at this person and made her think she had such little power that scraps were all she deserved. She deserved so much more than that. 

“Come here,” he whispered, barely audible over the music. But she heard him and immediately finished her dance move and sank to her knees to crawl to him. 

Once she was before his chair, she slid into the position he always made her wait in, on her knees and head bowed. 

“What do you want?” 

“W-what?” Michael never asked her what she wanted when they had sex. That was the whole point, it was not about what she wanted. 

“What do you want? How do you want me to fuck you? Tonight, I do what you say.”

“Anything I say?” she asked, a twinge of a playful tone in her voice that made him shake his head. 

“Don’t get too excited. I still own that ass. But you put on a good show for me, feelin’ generous. What do you want?” 

She stared at him for a moment before answering. “I want to taste you and then I want to fuck you. And then… I want you to fuck me so hard I can’t move tomorrow.”

He let out a barking laugh before standing to strip, his member standing at attention. Her mouth watered as she took in the pre cum already leaking from his head. She wanted to groan at how slowly he was moving. He leaned over her and wrapped his hand in her hair, pulling her head back. “Your wish is my command. If that’s what you want, ain’t no tappin’ out tonight.” 

“When have I ever tapped out?” she challenged. 

Michael grinned like a Cheshire cat. He loved that she had some fire in her. But she was not wrong. She never tapped out.

“We’ll see then.” He let her hair go and settled back into his seat. 

Raven immediately launched herself at his dick, not bothering to waste another second. She kept her eyes trained on his face as she spat on his dick, licking his head like it was her favorite treat. In some ways, it was. She continued her teasing, after all, it was still her show and she was still in control. She licked the underside of his shaft, along a vein that made him groan every time. She grinned as the deep, guttural sound escaped him. He did not even need to touch her, his mere voice and the sounds he made made a mess between her legs all on their own. 

“Don’t like… to be teased, baby girl,” he mumbled as his head fell back in pleasure, feeling particularly tortured by her warm mouth and her hand as she spread her spit along his shaft. 

She paused, her hand continuing to pump him. She decided that she was going to egg him on. She wanted him to take her to another realm when he fucked her tonight. She wanted all of him, all of his strength, all of his dominance, all of it until she could not take a single inch more. And she knew the best way to get that was to rile him up a bit. 

 “Shouldn’t have asked me what I wanted, daddy. Cause right now, I’m in a teasing mood.” 

He let out a low whistle. “Gonna tear that ass up in a minute.” 

She winked at him before enveloping his dick in her mouth. She moaned around him, enjoying how his hips bucked into her face at the vibrations, sending his dick farther into her throat. One of his hands rested on his stomach while the other tangled itself in her pressed hair. However, he did not stop her from controlling the pace as she sucked him. He just enjoyed the feeling of her head bobbing up and down on him, her hand massaging the base of his dick that she couldn’t fit into her mouth fully. She was responsive to his groans and moans, and had learned over the last month what he liked. 

And the one thing he liked was sloppy. She took breaks to spit on him and make a mess of her drool on his lap and the chair beneath him. They could add it to his tab, he decided as she deep throated him. Usually, when she did this, it was just him fucking her throat without a care. However, this time she was in control and she took her time, allowing him to feel every inch of him as she took him down her throat. 

“Fuckkkkkk… love your mouth, you filthy slut. That’s it. Take this dick.” 

Her jaw hurt, the dangly thing in the back of her throat ached every time she pushed her head back down on him. But all she heard was his praise and that spurred her on. Faster, sloppier. Whatever she could do to feel him explode in her… on her. On her… that stuck out as she felt his hips start to move faster in rhythm with her mouth. Michael had a thing for cumming on her ass when he fucked her from behind, which she loved. However, a particularly wicked idea came to her mind as she wondered where else she would like him to cum. She could not imagine he would say no… most men dreamed of that right? 

“I’m about to cum, don’t stop!” He called out. 

However, she did stop, letting him fall from her mouth but continued giving him a hand job. 

Her breathing was labored as she tried to catch her breath. “Cum on my face, daddy,” she begged, her voice filled with need and pleas that made Michael forget that he should be mad at her for stopping when he told her not to. 

She did not give him a chance to respond or check to ensure that was truly what she wanted before she took him into her mouth again. Knowing where she wanted him to release himself, Michael did not let her control the pace any longer. He wrapped her hair in his hands and fucked her mouth with abandon. Raven did not even care that she lost control, the sounds of his moans and grunts, the disgustingly lewd and sloppy noises of her mouth, her gagging were a perfect symphony to her ears. 

“I’m gonna cum!” he warned before using one hand to keep her hand in place while he aimed his dick right at her cheek and lips. 

Both of them were panting as he finished unloading on her face. She stayed there beneath him as he wiped his dick off on her other cheek. She licked her lips, enjoying the taste of his cum but she left the rest on as she rose to her feet and straddled him. Usually she did not move until he told her to move. However, she had made what she wanted clear and she was taking it. And then he could take her. 

She kissed him deeply, her hand massaging him until he was fully erect again. She wasted no time sliding down on his throbbing dick, both of them groaning as he filled her. 

“Wish you could see yourself… bouncing on my dick, covered in my cum. Such a good whore for me, baby. Did you like me cummin’ on that pretty face?” Michael asked as she rode him. He loved how disheveled she looked. Her face covered in his seed, her mascara running from her tears after he fucked her mouth. The picture of submission and that made him want to fuck the daylights out of her. However, he knew he had to practice patience. After all, he had given her control, he had to let her enjoy it… at least for a time. 

He buried his face in the valley between her boobs as she cried out. “Yes! Yes! I l-loved it!” He wished he had the nipple clamps to tug on while she rode him, an activity for later he decided as he sucked on her nipples. Everything he did to one, he did to the other as that was only right and fair as she switched between his favorite slow grind on his lap and bouncing on him. 

He could tell her legs were starting to grow tired as they slowed down a bit. However, he did not mind, that was perfect actually. It meant he could take over. 

“You had your turn. You read for daddy to take over again? Give you what you need?” he asked in her ear, his hand wrapped around her throat. She gasped as he squeezed lightly, the action sending her tumbling over the edge of her first orgasm. 

“Y-Yes, p-please.” 

“What do you want? Say it.” 

“Fuck me like a whore,” she whispered, desperate to feel all he had to offer. 

His hands grabbed her beneath her thighs and hoisted her up in the air. She let out a shocked cry at the sudden change and clung to him tighter. The whole time, their bodies never separated as he walked with her until she was backed against one of the French doors. He let her legs fall to the ground and turned her around roughly. 

“Spread your legs,” he demanded, his voice leaving no room for arguments, not that she had a single one. 

He pressed her cheek into the glass panel, her eyes trained on the glittering lights of the Eiffel in the distance as he wrapped his hand in her hair once again. He held the head of his dick at her entrance, sliding it against her clit and making her body convulse slightly. 

He slammed into her, causing Raven to scream out with pleasure. His thrusts pinned her entire body to the door as he fucked her like a man possessed. 

Her high pitched screams were incoherent words that Michael could not make out as he fucked her roughly against the door. She loved every moment of it. It was painful, her breasts and body pushed up against the door like that with every thrust but she loved it and never wanted it to end. 

“You still in a teasing mood??” he asked, Raven immediately shaking her head. She tried to answer verbally but the words would not form. He pulled her head back, her sweet perfume hitting his nose as he bit into her neck. He did not do it hard enough to leave a mark but he knew she felt it. “I asked you a fuckin’ question!” 

“No! N-no! I-I’m s-sorry,” she blubbered as she felt another orgasm building. She had asked for this and he was not going to disappoint. “F-Fuck… you f-feel so good. I-I love it!”  

He let go of her hair and slid out of her, Raven groaning at the sudden feeling of emptiness. He gripped her arm and pulled her into the bedroom.  

“Get your ass on the bed. Face down toward the window, ass up.” 

He disappeared into the bathroom for a moment while Raven assumed her favorite position. However, when he returned, she glanced at him and found a small black bullet in his hand. He turned it on, the powerful and loud vibration filling the bedroom. She knew exactly what he wanted her to do as he climbed onto the bed behind her and slid it into her hand. She immediately tried to shy away from him but he stopped her. 

“The fuck I say about tappin’ out? You’re gonna hold that to your clit and aren’t gonna take it off. Drop it, I spank you twenty times, turn it down, I spank you fifty times, turn it off… you won’t sit for a fuckin’ week. We’re gonna see how many times you can cum before I do.” 

With that, Raven braced her body up one one forearm before reaching beneath her to put the vibrator on her clit. She immediately shuddered as it sent spasms through her body. This was torture. 

“You tortured me. Now, I get to return the favor,” Michael offered as he roughly thrusted into her. 

She had never used a toy during sex in this way and torture was the right word, delicious, mindnumbing torture. With Michael’s dick curving into her g-spot with every thrust and the vibrator stationed on her clit, she came in record time, couldn’t have been more than 30 seconds. Keeping it on while she came was even harder. Every instinct wanted to end the pleasure so she could calm down but she couldn’t.

“I-I c-can’t,” she whimpered as she felt her orgasm start to build again. It was too fast, too much too soon.

“Yes, you can and you will. You wouldn’t want to disappoint daddy, would you?” A loud smack filled the air as he spanked her. “But I’ll help you.” 

He reached around and wrapped his hand in hers, forcing her to keep the vibrator there. Michael had to slow his movements down a bit to hold onto her hand but it was worth it to feel her pussy snapping around him with every orgasm. She came and she came and she came. She begged and screamed for reprieve and mercy and rest but he gave her none of it. He ignored all of it. By orgasm number 4, she was a quivering mess. Her arm had completely gone slack, her upper body pushed into the bed and he wondered if he was pushing her too far. But no safe word had crossed her lips, just a lot of curse words. 

“I’m close, baby… How many more you got in you? I think you got two more. Don’t fuckin’ run from me, baby girl. This shit’s what you wanted isn’t it?” He slammed into her with a particularly rough thrust. “Isn’t it??” 

“Y-Yes…” she choked out. But now she did not know what she wanted because her brain was utter mush. She wanted less, she wanted more, she wanted him to slow down, she wanted him to speed up. She wanted to stop and she wanted to give him those last two orgasms he believed she was capable of. It might kill her but so be it. 

“Yes what?” He spanked her again with all his might. 

“Yes sir!” 

She fell off the cliff again, a breathless scream escaping her as she came again. It was still pleasurable, a tinge of pain accompanying it that she had not expected but enjoyed. Her body was covered in a layer of tacky sweat, she was exhausted. And yet, she knew she had one more. She could feel all the signs that he was close and after all he had done for her this week, she desperately wanted to give him one more, to hear him praise her for doing so. 

She used her last bit of energy to fuck him back, using her arms as leverage to bounce back on his dick. She took the vibrator from him, pressing it into her clit. 

“That’s it, baby girl. Cum with me, baby. Take this dick and cum with me.” 

Just as he shot his load deep inside her, Raven felt everything in her explode with untold pleasure. She collapsed forward, the vibrator falling out of her hand as she rode the waves of the most intense orgasm of her life. She felt as if he had just restructured her very brain chemistry. Everything faded in and out as she laid there for only God knew how long, paralyzed and exhausted. Michael’s presence and movements felt like a ghost hovering around her. She did not move, stuck and frozen in that position until she felt Michael help her flip onto her back. 

She let out a whimper of pain and tried to close her legs as she felt a warm washcloth touch her too sensitive clit. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice returning to his usual gentle baritone. “Just tryin’ to clean you up a bit. We made a mess.” 

Once he was done, he reached over to the phone and called down for new sheets and a comforter before picking her up in his arms. He loved how her body immediately curled into his chest as he carried her into the bathroom and settled both of them into the tub. He held her up until he could get her hair in a high enough ponytail to ensure it did not get wet. He knew enough black women to know she would not appreciate that when she finally came to.

Raven moaned, the water was heavenly. They sat in silence, Michael massaging and rubbing her aching limbs while she just laid there with her eyes closed. 

“I hurt you?” he asked. It felt good in the moment, it was so easy to get lost in it with her. But now he worried he had pushed her too far past her limit. And more so, he felt worried that she had not felt safe enough to say so.

She shook her head, her words coming out as a raspy sigh, her voice half gone from screaming. “Not in any way I didn’t want you too. You gave me exactly what I asked for.” 

He kissed her shoulder. “You sure?” 

“Positive. It was… amazing. I promise.” 

“Never made you squirt before… I liked it. Maybe I’ll do it more often.” 

She chuckled. “That’s what happened at the end? If that’s how it feels, I’ll gladly do it again.” 

They stayed in the tub for a while, Michael lazily helping her work out the soreness and kinks she felt in her legs and back. She appreciated how gentle and attentive he was afterward. Something about the end of their playtime made her feel vulnerable and exposed, made her wonder what he truly thought of her after the things she willingly did. However, every time, he took the time to care for her and ensure she was ok, he checked in and asked questions about how she felt and let her rest in his arms before he left. She appreciated and needed that. 

When they finally got out, her legs felt like jello but she imagined it was better than it would have been. He helped her dry off before giving her a robe to put on. He settled on the edge of the bed, which had already been remade with fresh bed clothes as she walked out of the room and returned with her dress. She started to slide the bodice up her nude body. 

“Tonight was fun… perfect ending to a great week. Thank you.” She gestured toward the door. “I s-should head to my suite.” 

She turned to leave when his hand grabbed hers to stop her. 

“Stay.” The request was simple and though it was not phrased as a question, she knew it was one. 

She could not help the way her face twisted up in shock. She never stayed the night, they never actually slept beside each other. It was an unspoken rule between them. She bit her lip as she studied him. She could list a hundred reasons this was a terrible idea but none of them seemed reason enough to say no. So she settled for, “You sure that’s a good idea?” her voice was filled with her own hesitation and desperation to say yes. 

“Nah, I’m not,” he admitted, his hand cupping her cheek. “But I’m willing to take the risk if you are?” 

That was all she needed to hear. She unzipped the dress and let it fall back to the floor, this time too tired to care about discarding it on the ground. She followed him and let him help her into bed before falling asleep on his chest, his arms wrapped tightly around her. 

***

“So what’d you think?” Michael asked as he helped her down the steps of the private plane. “First private jet experience? Worth it or nah?” 

“Totally worth it. No security lines? No screaming babies? No annoying adults? Insane amounts of leg room? True bliss.” And it was. Raven had slept most of the ride home, mainly due to still being sore and exhausted from the night before. She had asked Michael to introduce her to the mile high club but he told her she needed to rest. And he was not wrong, her pussy definitely needed a break. So she spent most of the flight curled up on his shoulder asleep while he worked and listened to music. 

By the time they landed at LAX, she had not even realized the whole flight had passed her by. The pair noticed a few paparazzi lurking on the other side of the gate as they walked to the car where Alex and Allen waited patiently for them.  

“Welcome home,” Alex offered as the two approached Michael’s car, Allen immediately greeting them both as well before grabbing their bags. “Have fun?” 

The couple nodded enthusiastically. 

“I’m so glad. That means you two are relaxed and can get back to it. Cause we got a problem.” She handed Michael her phone, his relaxed face immediately scrunching up in frustration. 

“What’s wrong?” Raven asked, confused as to what could have happened in the span of a flight. All was well when they took off this morning. 

“Well let’s just say… I am so glad I’m an only child,” Alex answered flatly as Michael handed Raven her phone so she could see ‘the problem,’ a giant TMZ headline staring back at her that featured a quote from her very own sister. 

Fuck.

Tag List: @readinghere2023 @blackerthings @prettyisasprettydoes1306 @physicxal @purplehairgawdess @miyuhpapayuh @rueruesclues @geemamii @certifiedlesbianbaddie @pipsqueak-98 @nyifly22 @destinio1 @twocentaur @gopaperless @musicisme333 @roguekiki @majesticbrownjawn @taurusqueen83 @mysteryuz @miamormilan @itsknor-thedeep @naj-ay444 @mads-grace4 @nayaesworld @kholdkill @msniaimani @nccu-rnc @apenasumlug4r

***

A/N: I hope Paris was as magical for you as it was for me lol And our not-so favorite sister is backkkk. Drop a comment and let me know all your thoughts or if you want to be tagged! Thanks for reading!

[dancingacrossthemilkyway]

i have no idea what kind of drabble prompts you prefer tbh but here: jmart but in space. like sci-fi, maybe star trek-y

“Ow!” Jon flinches as a thick gel is applied to his reddened arm, freshly scraped free of the spores that had attempted to embed themselves in his skin. The gel itself feels relatively good against his skin, a soothing cool against uncomfortable heat, but the gloved hand rubbing it on is anything but gentle. “Are you trying to cause me more pain, Dr. Blackwood?”

The doctor in question grunts from behind the full-body suit he’s wearing as he treats Jon, but Jon doesn’t need to see his face to picture the severe expression residing there. Pinched brows, wrinkled nose, pursed lips: the trademark disapproving scowl Martin likes to fix Jon with whenever he comes back from an explorative mission that has gone somewhat sideways. 

It’s probably far more displeased than normal, considering the personal protectice equipment he’s donned and the fact that every member of the on-world team has been quarantined in their own separate rooms until Martin’s convinced they’re safe to be around.

“Will it keep you from doing something like this again?” Yeah, Martin’s definitely grumpy. His voice is pitched slightly higher than usual and filled with a mixture of sassy irritation that he only gets when particularly peeved with whatever stupid decision Jon’s made. “Christ, I thought having Sasha as your second-in-command would make you less likely to get into trouble, but she’s as bloody impulsive as you!” 

Sasha was promoted recently from Communications Officer when Manuela had finally had enough of Jon’s brand of spontaneous decision making and requested a transfer to a different ship. It wasn’t necessarily much of a surprise that they didn’t get on, even without Jon being the way he is; disciples of the Dark rarely worked well in close quarters with those of the Eye. It was one of the risks of having a crew contain an officer from each of the Fears: there were always going to be inherent disagreements that weren’t easily resolved due to a difference in beliefs. 

Jon hasn’t had much contact with Manuela’s replacement, Basira Hussein, but this mission proved that she can definitely hold her own. It shouldn’t be a surprise, given her high recommendation from Daisy.

Slowly they’re settling into a team Jon thinks he likes. Even if he doesn’t get along with all of them on a personal level, they’re good members of the crew and they work well with each other. That’s what matters - that’s what he remembers being emphasized at the academy. 

“Yes, well,” Jon replies, giving Martin a blank look as he speaks in his typical deadpan. “If I were less impulsive, we wouldn’t have as many successful missions under our belt already.”

Martin scoffs. “I’d take less successful missions if it meant you stayed safe. Or do you think I enjoy having to dig worms from your skin, or, or, make sure you don’t end up sprouting fungus, or stitching you up when you decide to piss off something with knife hands-”

Jon waves a hand between them, relieved when Martin finally stops aggressively rubbing the gel across his arm and steps back to survey him. “Yes, yes. That’s why I was chosen to be Captain, not you.”

Another scoff. “No, I chose to go to medical school, not the academy. Honestly, I don’t know why Space Marshall Bouchard chose you over all of the other far more qualified options-”

“Love you too, Martin,” Jon interjects with a soft laugh, having heard this spiel a million times before. And perhaps, if not for knowing it comes from a place of affection and concern, he’d take offense to it. But Martin worries; that’s part of who he is. He worries, and even if Jon were the most qualified individual for the job, he’d worry. 

“-I swear the man is just out to give me a heart attack when you go charging off into the dens of literal space lions. What did I ever do to deserve this?” Throwing his arms up in the air in an exaggerated gesture - which loses most of its effectiveness given the way the suit squeaks against itself as he moves - Martin moves to put away the supplies he used. “Christ. You know, it’s a good thing I love you, or I’d be done.”

“Done… with me, or on the ship?” Jon prompts, despite the fact that they’ve had this discussion before. Sometimes it’s fun to egg Martin on a little - god knows the favor is returned. 

“Both!” Martin groans, dropping the disposable tools into the hole that leads to the medical waste fires. “You’d better not grow anything and miss our date tonight.”

“I’ll do my best to not grow anything on this arm.”

“Anywhere, Jon! You’d better not grow anything anywhere!”

[doomednarrative]

I do resent the assertion that Jacket is a protag who loves destruction and violence and does what he does because he likes it.

Jacket is a war vet who never received any help after coming home, and who had his prejudice against the Russians (both for his friend Beard’s death in the San Fran nuking and due to almost killing him in the war too) manipulated and used by 50 Blessings for their own agenda. Like that other post I reblogged before said, if Jacket really liked everything that he was doing, would Richard and Don Juan and Rasmus even exist and be questioning him? They’re all figments made of Jacket’s coma addled mind while he tries to reckon with everything that’s happened to him. If Jacket really liked the violence and death he caused, rather than feeling like it’s a way to get revenge for his dead friend and deal with that grief, why would his mind be questioning him on his actions, telling him he’s done terrible things and that he’s a bad person?

Hell, you can see from the way he deals with other people outside of the mafia that he really doesnt like hurting and killing people! The homeless guy he kills in the beginning of the game makes him vomit right after committing the act, and he’s clearly upset with/sickened by what he’s done if that’s anything to go off of. When given a chance to kill Girlfriend, he doesn’t! She’s entirely in a vulnerable position and if he was really doing everything because he enjoys the violence, he would have just killed her straight off. Instead, he helps her. He brings her home, lets her live with him and get herself back together, and eventually they have a relationship. Richter of course is the biggest example of this whole sentiment though, seeing as he’s the one responsible for Girlfriend’s death. Jacket went to the station with the intent to get info out of him, and seemingly Did go to kill him! But he had a change of heart in the end, maybe feeling bad considering what Richter said about them being similar (being forced to do things by 50 Blessings) and lets him go.

If Jacket really was a guy who Enjoyed all of the violence and the killing, I don’t think he’d have done Any of that. He’s not like Martin, who easily expresses that he has a desire to hurt and kill people, or like Jake, who revels in his deeper prejudice and hatred and takes it to extreme levels. And that’s not to say Jacket is a Good person either, he’s clearly very morally complicated and does a lot of horrible things!! He signs up for 50 Blessings himself, he clearly has issues with his own hatred of the Russians and doesn’t mind the violence when it’s against them specifically.

But the thing that sets him apart from other main characters of this narrative is that his motivations and drive to commit those acts are Focused, rather than being broad all encompassing hatred. His goal was to get revenge for the death of a dear friend that he lost due to a Russian nuke, and because he himself had almost died in the war from them, and would have if Beard hadn’t saved him. Jacket’s Whole motivation for what he does, despite the ripple effects it does cause, were Very very focused and due to his grief and war trauma and he had those feelings manipulated further by 50 Blessings so that he could be a pawn in their long spanning agenda of political unrest. That’s why Jacket ending HLM 1 with tossing the photo of he and Beard off the balcony is so significant: it represents an end to his fight. He’s achieved what he considered his goal in revenge, and he’s done with trying to keep enacting out violence or killing people. That’s why he doesn’t participate in the prison riot like Richter does either; he’s done and he’s given up.

Jacket’s such a multi layered character, and it feels like such a disservice to other parts of his narrative, particularly that he’s a war vet with clear trauma, to reduce him to a guy who did Any of this because he liked it. Every single step in his story points to the answer of the question “Do you like hurting people” to not be so clear cut as to say just Yes or No. It’s more than that, and that answer deserves nuance in order to clearly understand Jacket and the effect his actions have on the story at large.

[sumire-no-nikki]

Halfway Through August

Summer is in full swing and I am ready for it to be over. It has been a weird couple of weeks with the temperature dipping to 15C before soaring right back up to 30C. I feel the heat sap my energy. I move so sluggishly these days.

What has made the past couple of weeks bearable is great coffee. This month’s beans are from 19grams which I had tried before but I was still quite new to taking coffee seriously then and perhaps had not done it justice. So this time, equipped with a better grinder and coffee making skills, I found the beans quite a treat. Spring Bloom, the filter blend, is quite an understated flavour profile but very refreshing. I have brewed it via V60, Aeropress and a french press and I think I like it best as a cup of V60. Blends are quite a hit or miss for me but this one was alright. The single origin espresso beans though was incredible. Don Martin is a burst of cherry in my mouth. I'm really enjoying it. I also recently tried extracting my espresso over a frozen ball for the first time referred to as "compound chilling." It is a technique employed by World Barista competitor, Hugh Kelly a couple of years ago. And I know, I know! As if rdt, wdt, and a puck screen aren't enough complications, I have now added another superfluous step to my morning coffee. I know it's excessive but hear me out! It does have a significant impact on the espresso and far from being just a gimmick, there's a science to it. Apparently the sudden and drastic change in temperature locks the flavor compounds in the espresso, leaving the espresso sweeter than it would have been if extracted normally. I tested this myself and I can confirm that the result is a lot sweeter, almost milky. I couldn't exactly pinpoint it at first but after a couple of cups I think this is because it completely eradicates acidity. Ah, it is always fun discovering new ways to appreciate coffee!

In other news, I have been spending considerable time getting as much preparation work done. I have a list of goals this month that require some trial-and-error, some testing. I must admit that not a small part of the motivation behind the necessity of a "preparation stage" is hinging on my persistent perfectionism. I cannot stand to see the end product of my efforts to be “ugly,” whatever arbitrary standard that might be. And if I'm really being honest, if the result is less than perfect, then I struggle to really find the point in doing it at all. In my defence, this is because I am very much a "prevention is better than cure" type of person. If I can prevent issues, quirks, flaws, then why not optimise the process to produce the best possible end? I suppose it's a balancing act. I must make sure not to get caught up in my pursuit of efficiency that I fail to complete anything at all. But I should also lean on my planning expertise to ensure that I am encouraged and motivated by the path ahead. 

Whenever I am able to take breaks from work and individual projects, I spend my time organising. This week in particular, I went through my small vinyl collection and sifted out the records I don't regularly play. I had recently ordered a handful of new records and I needed to make room for them. So I plucked out around ten records and listened to all of them, keeping the music that still spoke to me and set aside the ones that no longer draw me in. The one in the photo is a stunning copy of girl in red's first album, a UO exclusive pressing. Side A is black on white and side B is white on black. It reminds me of a spider web somehow. I never really got around to listening to the music but I liked girl in red's first two EPs so I purchased it last year. I was actually fully ready to set it aside for selling but when I put it on I really enjoyed it. So, luckily for this record, it made its way back to the shelf. About eight records did not. I'll be taking those to my usual vinyl store sometime later this month. It is a relief to have my collection trimmed down. I'm the type of person who likes to throw things away. I suppose it’s kind of the opposite of hoarding. I like to feel that I am making the most out of my stuff. So if I'm not really using something anymore, even if the product is still mostly full or unused, I'm constantly tempted to just chuck it all out.

Now, I shall leave a song here that I enjoyed the past week to end today's entry. (Shall I make this a regular segment? It would be nice to look back and see which song caught my attention at a certain point in time.) I haven't been able to stop spinning this record (pictured above, in all of its orange glory). What a blessing YouTube recommendations are! I was suggested this live performance of Anna B Savage like two? three? months ago and now I've got a new favourite artist!

One last thing--I would be remiss if I don’t mention that I’m posting this on a completely new blog!! God, it’s such a relief, honestly. To have my own space again, to no longer feel like there are prying eyes on me--I am happy. So incredibly happy. It's always a hassle to get things set up the way I want it be and I've got to work on curating this new space but I am truly relieved. I can post whatever I want again without unsolicited opinions or intrusive questions from people who I've never even interacted with, or aren't brave enough to ask their questions directly. I'm following only old mutuals here that I really love seeing on my dashboard and I’m as invisible as I want to be. I can breathe again. That old blog was a fun experiment while it lasted but it only really confirmed something I've come to understand: people, on the whole, can really be terribly selfish, malicious and inconsiderate. There are lovely individuals out there of course and that's all the more reason to be as specific when deciding who to have around. And I don't need much at all, just sincere individuals. I don't want community. I want peace.

So, cheers to new beginnings!

Anyway, I’m off to put stuff on my face and then bedtime. The weekend plan is simple: read. I've been on a terrible reading slump for weeks and it's time to cure it. I'm going to read the Villains Duology by V.E. Schwab. Not my type of book but I do want to branch out and give it a chance. I found Addie LaRue to be okay so I hope I won't entirely hate this duology.

I look forward to my slow weekend.

Until next time.

[chrisis-averted]

“I’ve been keeping my mouth shut because I assumed you knew what you were doing, but if today proves anything it’s that you have no idea how things will turn out and you’re just throwing yourself into danger!” Martin cried out in growing frustration, gesticulating heavily. “Do you even realise how reckless and selfish you’ve acted these past few months?!” Jon opened his mouth to reply, but he was cut off before he could speak. “First you insist on going along with Elias’ instructions when it’s clear he has plans to hurt you. Then you disappear in the tunnels for days at a time, we had to drag you out unconscious and dehydrated just last week! Then you just head off in the middle of the night to search for people—and not—who clearly want to kill you. And don’t let me even get started on the fact that you’ve been helping Strangers flee the country—I know they’re Dr. Elliot’s students but that could’ve put you in danger with the Circus and with Tim, since you decided not to tell him until he found out on his own! Do I need to continue?!” Jon blinked, taken aback by the sudden outburst. Martin’s concerns were understandable, but unfounded, between the two of them he was the most vulnerable, not him. He reached out for his hand, smiling. “Martin, it’s fine, I’ll be fine—” Martin snatched his hand away. “No, it’s not fine, nothing about this is fine!” He shouted, attracting a few weird looks from the passersby. “You can’t keep throwing yourself into danger! If Tim hadn’t run after the train, today, you would be dead—” “Trapped,” Jon blinked, surprised. “Trapped, not dead. The Buried—” Martin rolled his eyes. “Because that makes it sooo much better!” He threw his hands up. “Do you even hear yourself?!” “Martin,” Jon sighed, smiling, “even if I get trapped in a domain I can always find my way back to you…” he tried to reassure him. “I did it before—” “By sheer dumb luck! And what about the time your luck runs out?! What then?! Will you leave me waiting you out forever or—or mourn you because you didn’t care enough to keep out of danger?!” Martin rubbed his eyes. “I can’t do this.” Jon went to reach out again but closed his hand and stepped back. “It’s—I’m sorry, I—” “Don’t.” Martin lifted his head to glare at him. “Don’ fucking apologise if you’re just going to do this again!”

[adamwatchesmovies]

Ocean's Eleven (2001)

Ocean’s Eleven is effortlessly cool. It’s far superior to the film it’s based on, which is quite a feat considering its cast included Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, Sammy Davis Jr., and Cesar Romero. This heist film is slick, exciting, funny, smart and contains an extra special ingredient that makes it stand out among its peers.

Freshly released from prison, Danny Ocean (George Clooney) reconnects with his former partner-in-crime, Rusty Ryan (Brad Pitt) to plan a heist of legendary scale. In order to simultaneously rob the Bellagio, Mirage and MGM Grand Casinos, they assemble a crew (Matt Damon, Don Cheadle, Bernie Mac, Scott Caan, Casey Affleck, Carl Reiner, Elliot Gould, Eddie Jemison and Shaobo Qin). But is this elaborate plot about the money, or is Danny trying to get even with the casinos' owner, Terry Benedict (Andy García), who happens to be dating his ex-wife, Tess (Julia Roberts)?

That last question is the key to the film’s success. Ocean's Eleven is as much about the money as it is about Danny and Tess. That relationship immediately helps you overcome one of the biggest flaws of any heist film: the protagonist’s dubious morals. Stealing money is iffy. Stealing from a casino? A lot less. When the money seems to be an afterthought and the real objective is getting the love of your life back from a sleazeball like Terry Benedict, it’s an easy sell. With a huge cast of characters and a plot that involves all of them at various points, there’s a lot to keep track of but you’ve got that central anchor to keep you grounded. When Danny enters the casino, it’s to check on the security and see how Tess is doing. His longing for her is putting the mission at risk, which adds extra tension. There was already plenty of it… but not in the way you might expect.

Remember that this movie is cool. It’s breazy. It’s a nice walk in the park - or at least it feels that way. The people assembled to pull off this job are pros (well, professional enough to pull this scheme off anyway). Everyone has their parts to play and individually, none of the components are THAT complicated. This makes the scenes when things don’t go according to plan that much more uncertain. Once in a while, you mentally take a step back and that’s when you realize "Wait a minute! There’s so much that could go wrong, and so much that’s gone wrong already!" You just didn’t realize how dire things were because you were having such a good time. You weren't sweating before but now you are. These stakes are high. Not only because you care about the characters, not only because it’s a lot of well-protected money, but because Andy Garcia does a great job playing the villain. No cheap tricks, just an air of menace and a thin layer of slime that tells you immediately how much you don’t like him.

Ocean's Eleven has loads of energy and style. It feels like you’re hanging out with the boys and that if they win, you will too. You’re laughing at the escapades along the way, you’re wondering what Danny’s really up to, you’re looking forward to Benedict getting his comeuppance, you’re tapping your feet to the music, marveling at the editing and pacing. All in all, Ocean’s Eleven is a great deal of fun and very memorable. (January 28, 2022)

[alarrytale]

Anon mentioning Ricky Martin´s She Bangs, just yesterday I watched that video after like 22 years(?) and I remember when I was a kid and Ricky Martin was sold as hot sex god and I also had crush on him a bit because of his image and I how remembered that video was very hot and full of sex. Okay, those years takes toll on that video especially when it comes to effects haha but still, he´s so ripped there and sexualized, it´s full of sex, hot bodies and obviously he´s making out/dancing there only with women. Maybe Harry doesn´t have to do this (thank God) but still the fact as his image is sold is equal to that RM´s videos full of sex.

Second thing when you mentioning how harries and antis should realize that closeting exists - amen to your answer! I don´t have time now but one day I would like to share my story how I met 2 closeted gays - they are long time friends of my dad and my step mom - who both have families ( you know, real grown-up children, one is still married and probably won´t get divorced because of safety), they are over 50 and if I didn´t know about closeting thanks to Larry, no way I would notice it in my real life when I met them during one family event. And I and them live in Europe and yet they have to hide from society and most friends and my dad+step mom are one of those who give them safe space. So yes, closeting EXISTS and you don´t even have to be world known singers.

And third thing, Marte, please don´t take it in offensive way but how you write that you find lyrics analyzing pointless, how do you know then that most of Harry´s songs are about Louis?

Hi, anon!

I haven't watched that music video in ages! Did you notice him trying not to giggle when the women are roaming their hands over his naked chest? H or L could never pull something like that off.

To your last question. I don't think that most of H's songs are about Louis, but many are. Just because i don't care for lyric interpretation and analysis doesn’t mean i don't do it myself. It just means we'll never come to a consensus. I don't think us larries disagree on Sweet Creature or Two Ghosts being about Louis for example. I usually agree with general themes, but when you break down the individual lyrics to mean this or that to me it's comparable to finding meaning in an abstract painting or cloud watching. Some see elephants and some see cars. Some see dispair and some see happiness. A song can be a happy song for some and a sad song for others.

For this reason i also have a huge problem with people using lyrics as evidence for this or that. They broke up because that lyric in that song implies it. They hate each other because the car in that song is a metaphor for a fight. Larry is real because Louis wore something yellow and Harry wrote Golden. I see things like that everyday. Then it turns out that song was about Kid Harp*ons wife forgetting her wallet in her car or something. When it comes to H's songs if you think it means something, it most likely isn't what you think it means. The metaphors are layered too deep to get real meaning out of it.

[iris-sistibly]

The Targ Talk (a review series): House of the Dragon episode 10 (Season finale)

Note: I've decided to write another post about MY overall thoughts about the first season of this show.

[🔥]

-That mother and son moment between Rhaenyra and Luke 😭 I love the queen as a mother, she is never hard towards any of her children. She always makes sure to be there every step of the way. On top all that, my heart aches because I know of the fate of Lucerys, it was a bittersweet moment between them and I will never be able to move on.

-The look on Daemon and Rhaenyra's face when they found out about Viserys' death was EVERYTHING!!! The queen's disbelief and the anger on the prince was *chef's kiss*

-Jacaerys standing up for his mother when Daemon was ignoring his wife, pretty much what Ser Harwin would have done if he was alive.

-Watching Rhaenyra give birth to Visenya while refusing the midwives' help, her pulling the baby out only to find out she was dead, cradling her little dead body, and finally wrapping her corpse while crying was so heart-wrenching! And she did all that on her own. Then the moment Daemon crowned her (with the same crown Viserys I donned), the grieving mother in her was put aside and she became a queen, and it all happened on the SAME FUCKING DAY!

Fun fact: After finding out about Viserys' death and Aegon's coronation, Rhaenyra went into labor. There she shrieked curses, calling down the wrath of the gods upon her half-brothers and stepmother, detailing the torments she would inflict upon them before they let them die. According to Mushroom, she cursed the child inside her, clawing at her belly as Maester Gerardys and her midwife were trying to restrain her and shouting, "Monster, monster, get out, get out, GET OUT!" (Source: Fire & Blood by George RR Martin)

-Speaking of the birthing scene, I love that part that when Rhaenyra was screaming in pain and Syrax was feeling it too 🥺

-I think the difference between the coronations of Aegon and Rhaenyra were night and day. Aegon was crowned in the Dragonpit, in the eyes of the commonfolk who had no idea who he really is and what kind of king he will be. Whilst his sister's coronation, although wasn't done traditionally, was witnessed by her family and the people who were loyal to her WHO, by the way knows what kind of a person she truly is.

-Daemon and Otto meeting at Dragonstone and Rhaenyra appearing with Syrax, and our queen once again preventing a bloody battle, I would love to see Daemon cut off Otto's head though.

Fun fact: It was Grand Maester Orwyle who went to Dragonstone and laid out Aegon's terms and conditions. Rhaenyra heard these terms in stony silence then asked Orwyle if he remembered her father to which he replied, "yes." Then the queen reminded him of who her father named as heir and questioned why Orwyle was serving Aegon. Some accounts say that Orwyle cited the Great Council of 101 as his reasons, then another source said that the dude peed himself while answering to Rhaenyra. Either way, Rhaenyra wasn't satisfied with his answer and stripped him off his chains and gave it to Maester Gerardys. (Source: Fire and Blood by George RR Martin)

-Hi Vermithor! Also, I love that High Valyrian song Daemon was singing.

-Aemond and Vhagar chasing Luke and Arrax was so intense! You can tell Lucerys was scared the shit out of his wits and Arrax sensed that Vhagar was a threat, soooo poor baby spit on granny's face and Vhagar has zero patience for younglings and there you have it. Anyhoo, this scene didn't fall any short of excitement. Oh, and I love Aemond's sapphire eye.

Fun fact: During the battle between Aemond and Lucerys, watchers on the castle walls saw distant blasts and heard a shriek cut the thunder. Then the two beasts were locked together, lighting crackling around them, since Vhagar was five times Arrax's size, so the battle could not have lasted long. Arrax fell, broken and swallowed by the waters of the bay. Then Lucerys' corpse washed up as well and Aemond plucked out his eyes and presented them to Lady Maris on a bed of seaweed. Some say that Vhagar swallowed Lucerys whole, and some claim that Luke survived the ordeal, swam to safety, but lost all his memories and lived out the rest of his days as a simpleminded fisherman. (Source: Fire & Blood by George RR Martin)

-Rhaenyra at the end. I had freaking goosebumps! The anguish, the anger, her eyes telling the audience: There is going to be blood. Her throwing away everything she promised to Viserys to keep the realm as one, and become the vengeful queen who wants nothing but to kill every living Hightower and their allies was AMAZING!

Fun fact: Rhaenyra collapsed when she heard of Luke's death. Joffrey swore vengeance against Aemond and Borros, only the intervention of Corlys and Rhaenys kept the boy from mounting his dragon at once. As the black council sat to consider how to strike back, a raven from Harrenhal arrived, "An eye for an eye, a son for a son," Prince Daemon wrote, "Lucerys shall be avenged." (Source: Fire & Blood by George RR Martin)

-Emma D'Arcy's performance from Rhae's first scene as an adult up to the last was top notch. Emma was able to pull-off Rhaenyra as a woman, a queen, a wife and mother. They are a living example that a talented actor is someone who can portray ANY character, be it a cis-man, woman or a member of the lgbtqia+ community. Y'all are hyping up Rhaenyra so much and I love her too, but let's also give credit to the person who worked so hard to deliver her character.

-That table lighting up was the coolest thing I've seen in this episode, it was so beautiful and it was like watching the opening of HotD. Whoever did that deserves a raise!

[Meh]

-Rhaenyra holding Lucerys' hand for the last time, I was like NOOOOOO MY QUEEN! It's a bad idea, let ravens do their thing. But alas, this boy's ending is tragic just like the rest of his family.

-So prior to episode 10's premiere, I've read a spoiler on twitter about the birthing scene when Rhaenyra was asking for Daemon to be beside her and this motherfucker chose to do something else other than be with his wife. Maybe it had to do with his trauma on Laena's difficult labor and eventual death, he has already seen his first wife and older brother in so much pain…perhaps he couldn't bear to witness such a horrifying incident as this. But like the rest of y'all, I fucking hate that he wasn't beside this wife when she needed him the most, and I curse whoever wrote and assassinated his character. Though, I am glad that they didn't cut the part when Daemon saw Rhaenyra cradling their dead babe, and then he went out and grieved on his own. HBO did him so dirty when they omitted the scene of him comforting his daughters.

-This is connected with what I've said earlier, despite everything that happened she tried her best to prevent bloodshed. But either way, neither the greens nor the blacks would yield to one another, and even if Luke didn't die, war was never out of the question. Like I said in my previous post, Aegon has already won the hearts of the commonfolk, her ascending the iron throne will never not be questioned or challenged. It was a painful reality Rhaenyra failed to acknowledge at first due to her desire to reign in peace (I have nothing against it though, but you get the point).

[WTF]

-THE CHOKING SCENE WAS SO OUT OF PLACE! Daemon Targaryen is a murderer, a crazy bastard, and a ruthless warrior, but it's so fucking out of character of him to suddenly have an outburst simply because Rhaenyra didn't agree with what HE wanted, didn't know about the song of ice and fire, didn't take bullshits from prophecies, and Rhaenyra considering Aegon's terms and conditions (take note: she never said she would yield, but perhaps think of her own ways to negotiate with her brother). Most likely, Daemon would have acted on his own just like what he fucking did at the Stepstones (remember him refusing Viserys' help and did a one-man army stint instead?). I would have understood the banter between husband and wife, but again, there was no part in that conversation where him suddenly grabbing Rhaenyra's neck out of the blue was necessary. He would kill and harm anyone, but NEVER his family and NEVER RHAENYRA! I fucking hate the fact that they wrote Daemon in such a way that all of his redeeming qualities were diminished in a single fucking scene!

-I also hate that they did not include a scene from the book wherein Daemon vowed to avenge Lucerys for Rhaenyra. This character assassination is unforgiveable!

Fun fact: When Rhaenyra had her council meeting with the Blacks, Daemon AGREED with Rhaenyra to NOT be so rash about going into war (considering the number of dragon riders they had, and also considering the fact that one of their enemies' dragon is Vhagar). Daemon instead laid out his plans and strategies, he planned for the coronation of his wife (and he crowned her himself too), and called the lords of the Seven Kingdoms to declare allegiance to their true queen. Daemon himself said to "fight this war with words before we go to battle." (Source: Fire & Blood by George RR Martin)

Again HE NEVER CHOKED RHAENYRA! Whoever the fuck butchered his character deserves to be dracarys-ed!

-So…y'all are telling me, that being dumb runs in Alicent's family? That Aemond was just messing with Luke, and his death was an accident? The war started because of an accident…that is about the biggest bullshit I have ever seen all throughout this show so far.

Fun fact: When Lucerys Velaryon was escorted out of Borros Baratheon's palace, the second daughter of Lord Borros (Maris) who was angry with Aemond for preferring her sisters than her asked Aemond, "Was it one of the eyes he took? Or one of your balls?" her tone as sweet as honey, "I am so glad you chose my sister. I want a husband with all his parts." And that's when Aemond lost his shit and went after his nephew. (Source: Fire & Blood by George RR Martin)

[amatchinwater]

Pairing: Steo

Characters: Stiles Stilinski, Theo Raeken, Ms. Raeken, Sheriff Stilinski, Lydia Martin

Warnings: explicit sexual content, step sibling incest, sex toys, perv!Theo, anal sex

Words: 2177

Kinktober: Pseudo-cest

Ao3 link Masterlist

---

Stiles is an idiot. There’s no denying it this time around. He royally fucked up. What’s one of the things you probably shouldn’t do when your dad marries someone with a kid your age? Have the hots for your step-brother for starters! But, well, he does. Stiles vehemently ignores the fact that he does. He’s firmly set in the belief that if he just smothers the thought with a pillow and treats Theo like a dick that everything will be fine and no one will know. 

No one will find out that he has had his fair share of wet dreams about the football player. That the boy who sleeps in the room next to his isn’t his damn near every thought Stiles has while touching himself. No one has to know. It’s all fine. Everything is fucking fine. Okay? Okay. 

Ms. Raeken is an absolute treasure of a human being and Stiles won’t do a single thing to take happiness away from his father. She makes his dad smile and treats both of them well. Never once trying to be his mom, but no less fills the shoes of a mother to him. Stiles won’t throw that away. 

So he sticks to his guns of being a little shit to his step-brother. Hoping against all hope that the jock- who’s incredibly fucking smart- doesn’t pick up on his game. Like how little boys will pull girl’s braids on the playground because they don’t know how to deal with their feelings. Stiles isn’t doing that. Not at all! Okay, fine, he totally is. 

But he has to. 

While Stiles knows it’s not technically incest because there is zero blood relation to him and Theo. The taboo nature of it being frowned upon is what gets to him. That if his dad found out that he’d never look at him the same way again. Or that Ms. Raeken, well Stilinski now, will divorce his father for having a son like him. 

There’s just too much at stake. 

His traitorous body just hasn’t seemed to get the memo yet. 

Walking up to the second floor of the house, Stiles intends on making a beeline straight for his room and not leave it unless he absolutely has to for the next week. His father and Theo’s mom went out of town to celebrate their anniversary. Leaving him and his step-brother here by themselves. He’s just going to ignore Theo and pretend like he’s home all alone. No temptations to be had if he can’t see the other boy. 

Fate never seems to be aligned with him however. The second his foot reaches the top floor, the bathroom door opens and out walks Theo in nothing but a towel around his waist. Stiles forgets simple functions and that staring is actually quite rude. Mouth parted, doing his very best not to choke on his saliva as water droplets drip down Theo’s chest. 

His step-brother pushes his wet bangs out of his face, smirking, “didn’t anyone ever tell you it’s not polite to stare?” Theo’s tone is light and playful. Too dangerous for someone like Stiles to handle when he can’t even manage to get a grip on himself. 

Snapping back to reality, Stiles tries to don the careless mask he’s grown into. “No one’s staring at you. So don’t flatter yourself, maybe you should wear more than a towel if you share a bathroom with someone else. Since you’re wanting to talk about being polite.” Stiles rolls his eyes, moving towards his bedroom door. As soon as he’s inside everything will be fine. Distance and cut off from the perfect sight before him. Stiles just needs to-

Theo chuckles at him, “please. I heard your jaw hit the floor. Not flattery, sweetheart, just stating a fact.” He feels his step-brother’s breath on the back of his neck as he clings to his doorknob. “You could save yourself the trouble and just admit that you want me.”

Stiles stills. Theo wasn’t supposed to know that. No one was supposed to know that. He’s done an exceptionally good job of hiding it. Or at least, he thought he had. Has he only been playing himself? Not willing to give up the facade, Stiles snaps with less heat than intended, “go fuck yourself, Theo.” 

Which was apparently the wrong thing to say. Before he can open his door to escape, Theo grabs his shoulder and whips him around, pressing Stiles’ back against the door. “Stop being such a coward and fuck me yourself. I wouldn’t mind one bit.” 

“I can’t.” So not what Stiles had wanted to say. I don’t want to, that would’ve been a better response. Or even a simple no would have sufficed. But his body isn’t the only traitor Stiles possesses. He and his mouth have never been friends. It’s gotten him into trouble more times than he can count. Why would that be any different now? 

“Why not?” Theo asks, placing a palm against the door beside his head. Stiles is struggling with quite literally anything. The stupid thing in his pants hardens in exictement over his step-brother being this close. Theo leans in until their noses almost touch, dropping his voice to a whisper, “it’s not like we’re actually related, Stiles. Your dad just happened to marry someone who already had a kid with someone else.”

A kid with someone else.

They’re not actually related. 

Arguments Stiles himself has tried to use against himself. Because despite those facts, despite there being not a shred of shared blood between them, it’s still heavily frowned upon. But Stiles hasn’t wanted someone as badly as he’s wanted Theo. Not even Lydia. And that’s saying something. So…so what’s so wrong with giving into what he wants? Would it really be that bad? 

“Stiles,” Theo says his name incredibly softly. A hand gently wraps around his throat, thumb brushing against his pulse. “There’s nothing wrong with what we feel,” he says. 

There’s nothing wrong with what we feel.

We. 

Theo feels something for him too. 

There isn't a bit of contemplation after that. No second guessing or unsureness. Stiles closes the incredibly small distance and slots his mouth with Theo’s. His whine is swallowed by Theo’s groan and tongue sliding against his own. The hand around his throat holds him steady as his step-brother uses his free hand to open the door. The two stumble into the room, desperate to get Stiles as naked as Theo. 

By the time Stiles’ calves hit his bed, he’s down to his boxers and the other boy falls on top of him, towel secured around his waist. Theo kisses down his neck and chest, “you know,” he chuckles against Stiles’ pebbling nippe. “I thought about stopping the wedding. I wanted you for myself so badly that I was almost willing to ruin their day just to show them.” Theo licks down his stomach, “god, the first time I saw you, I knew I was fucked. I fucking knew,” his fingers curl into the waistband, tugging Stiles’ boxers off of him. 

Stiles’ mind is reeling. Too much information to try and process with a tantalizing tongue frying his brain cells. “Theo,” he gasps, his step-brother pushing his legs to his chest, licking into the tight ring of muscle. “Shit,” his fingers fist into the sheets, back arching, he moans as a finger joins Theo’s tongue. While Stiles’ fingers are long, they’re not as thick as his step-brother’s and good god, they feel fucking good. He doesn’t know when one became two, much less three, but his step-brother jabs his prostate, suckling the budding precum from his leaking cockhead. “Oh my god,” he groans, hips bucking on their own. 

With a final twist and spread of his fingers, and once Stiles’ thighs are littered with hickies and love bites, Theo takes his fingers out. “Are you clean?”

“Last I checked,” Stiles mutters. 

“Good,” Theo smirks. All he can do is watch with glassed over honey eyes as his step-brother flings his towel away, spits in his palm and lubes up his very hard dick. Stiles’ is damn near drooling, wanting so badly for his lips to be stretching around Theo’s shaft. But then his step-brother crawls towards him, sealing their mouths and presses his dick against Stiles’ ass like a question. A final confirmation that Stiles is okay with this. 

He so is. 

Stiles grabs the other boy by his shoulders, bringing him even closer to nod breathlessly into their kiss. Any and all inhibitions Stiles might have had lingering about what they’re doing dissipates once Theo’s cock is fully inside of him. A long, hearty moan spilling from his lips at the stretch of the tight ring of muscle. He’s sure he’s seeing stars. Stiles isn’t a virgin, but it’s been a while since he’s been with anyone else. The burn lasts a little longer than he’d like it to. 

But Theo stays still, rubbing his sides and peppering kisses along Stiles’ lips and cheeks. Distracting him from the minor discomfort of nearly being split in two. It’s more than welcome and sweeter than Stiles imagined his step-brother would be. Then again, he’s always the cause of Theo’s anger, so when they’re both working towards the same goal, it shouldn’t be surprising that Theo can be caring. 

“Fuck,” his step-brother hisses, pulling back ever so slowly. Sliding back in just as leisurely, “you’re so fucking tight,” Theo moans against his mouth. 

“Theo,” Stiles moans, the bundle of nerves being brushed against from the other boy’s shallow thrusts. “Theo,” he pants, “please.” He needs more. Like, now. 

His step-brother chuckles. A beautiful sound that Theo might as well have moaned again. But he listens to Stiles’ silent plea, pulling back to just the tip and slamming his hips forward. Continuing to just snap his hips against him. Punching loud, breathy moans out of Stiles with every jab to his prostate. His nails rake down Theo’s back, scratching and marking him in ways that hopefully his step-brother will feel for days. Stiles has enough marks on his thighs that it’ll be well over a week before they’re gone. 

He has half of a functioning brain cell to wonder if Theo placed them there on purpose. So as to not raise any suspicion with their respective parents. As much as he’d love for his step-brother to cover his neck too, the thought pinches his heart. And with the way Theo’s fucking into him, Stiles is finding it hard to care anymore. Without a second thought, when Theo leans his head back on a moan, Stiles latches his mouth to his slick, tan skin, sucking a mark for his step-brother to see anytime he looks into a mirror. 

Theo moans louder at that, thrusting faster than before. Stiles’ brain has turned to mush, his leaking cock rubbing between them beautifully. Won’t be much longer now. He can feel the warmth in his core, the tingles in his toes. He tries to grind his hips to meet his step-brother’s thrusts, wanting to fall apart. The way Theo pounds into him, Stiles is sure to feel it for days. An ache that he’ll crave for who knows how long. His head falls slack into the pillow, resting against Theo’s arm. 

“Look at you,” Theo coos, “drunk on my cock, sweetheart?” Stiles can only moan, blink his bleary, unfocused eyes. Theo’s not wrong. Stiles is fucking gone on him. His step-brother’s dick making every thought fly out the window. “God, you’re perfect,” Theo groans from his efforts, leaning down to nip and suck at Stiles’ exposed throat. 

A harsh bite to his pulse is all it takes. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Stiles cries out, orgasm rushing through him and spilling over their stomachs. Theo’s abs rubbing against his cock splatters cum up to Stiles’ chest and he can’t find it in himself to care. Not when the mess smears all over his step-brother too. 

“Could look at that all day,” Theo grunts from his efforts, his powerful thrusts growing pointed, sloppy, hasty. Chasing his own release in the warmth of Stiles’ body. A few jagged snaps of his hips and Theo stills, cock nestled deep inside Stiles, shooting his cum into Stiles’ fluttering hole. Utterly spent, his step-brother collapses on top of him and he’s thankful for the weight. Comforted by Theo resting on top of him and inside of him. Ensuring his cum stays locked up tight. 

“Shower,” Stiles mumbles into Theo’s shoulder. But then- that’s not-

“I don’t know,” Theo looks at him with a smirk, moving his hips back, cock already hard again. “I’m not done with you yet,” he moans, sliding back inside. His cum makes a sinful sound, making Stiles moan from the act. “That okay with you?” Theo asks, bumping their noses together like he’s not balls deep and fucking his cum back into him. 

“Yes,” Stiles moans, wrapping his legs around his step-brother. Eager to find out how the rest of their week alone is going to play out.

[enkisstories]

Gavin was living with the curio shop owner for a week now. It was the night before St. Nikolaus, the shoes and boots were cleaned, cookies (well, brownies, bc they didn't have sugar at hand) and milk were laid out.

Now all that was left to do was to close your eyes and tomorrow morning there'd be presents. And not just an apple and a small sweet, but actual christmas presents. For at this point in the town's history there were only two confessions in Fort Detroit: The Puritans, who didn't gift at all (and in some occasions didn't even acknowledge Christmas as a special day) and the Founders, who, being catholic, gifted at the 6th of December already.

That night...

HISS! You're not St. Nick!!!

Just my sims' luck - this is Caleb Vatore. At least with Roamer still awake they were not at risk of becoming vampire snacks.

The morning of St. Nikolaus was one of the rare occasions the house's inhabitants shared a meal together. Hervè had donned his cold weather outfit, ready to bring in the Yule log together with Gavin, decorate the house with evergreens and of course check for presents. All the while they'd have to evade snowballs tossed by a handful of puritan youths, who were claiming that in hindering the other settlers in their holiday preparations they were upholding their parents' virtues of asceticism and humility, but who were really only out to cause trouble.

Gavin: "What's the story here, Mr. Bouleau? You can't really believe that the Saint himself comes diving down from the heavens to deliver presents to good settlers?"

Hervè: "Not St. Nick, no, but the Founders really do that. Every year they prepare sweets and candied fruit, and then Leo, Markus and Martin deliver them."

And indeed, when the men stepped on Hervè's porch they found that the bootrack had gotten moved out of the way. In its place lay a leather satchel filled with bananas and grapes. Of the "offerings" there was nothing left but the empty glass and plate.

The actual gift was collected from the mailbox: a bag of fruit seeds. The bananas probably go right into Hervé's collection of curios.

[multitrackdrifting]

G-Witch Episode 21 Thoughts/Theories [Spoilers ahead]

These are the predictions I've made for how the season will play out

Fake Death [this one's still possible]

Guel to Gundam Schwarzette (to be fair, this is the most enigmatic Mobile Suit in a very long time so it was just a guess that he would get it as a "power-up", but since he's still firmly about protecting his father's legacy, despite not really knowing what this means in its totality [as shaddiq pointed out]).

Guel Jeturk will go through a redemption arc since the plot has been building him up to that since the beginning. He has not actively hindered the girls' ambitions since like episode 4, which is why it was kinda funny to watch people hate on him every week. The difference in his reaction to rejection/failure in romance is completely opposite to Shaddiq's so I'd say that as the meme goes "the lgbt+ community has forgiven guel jeturk" - fun fact, most of my friends that are lesbian viewers of this show love him even before his episode on Earth hahahaha.

Shattered idealism (this one is a free one)

Datastorm/permet relationship is somewhat AI/Matrix-esque. Basically confirmed with how Quiet Zero works.

Prospera Mercury will die (or fake her death)

El5n redemption arc (it has begun)

Another thing I'd like to point out is that Gundam IBO didn't reveal a second season until the first one ended. This is not the final season.

Shaddiq is extreme, but he's meant to be. He's not exactly likeable when it comes to Miorine, but his moral highground I guess lies in what fuels his convictions, not the totality of them (i.e. a very idealised/faded picture of the world). I don't agree with what he did, but Char did things that were just as bad so I was kinda whatever about them - not saying it was right I'm just saying that it's pretty typical gundam shit.

Suletta not worrying as much and just doing is a good reflection that she's learning to have faith in her convictions, and while that's kind of a small feat, given that a lot of doubt had been cast on the person she was.. it's a big step to living without needing to know how it will affect others, more than just like, knowing "I want to believe this is the right decision". Hence, she hands out her [Mio's] tomatoes. A nice way of showing her growth without it being really forced.

A lot of people want Martin to die becuase he threw a wrench into the plot but it's just like, guy is just a tool for the narrative to advance, I have no strong feeling about a kid trying to do the right thing even he doesn't understand the socio-political implications. That's whatever considering that they were gonna have somebody take the fall, may as well be him.

QZ is functionally a WMD. It's purpose is to envelop the Earth in a storm where Eri can live and be free (this is what the others speculate anyway, Prospera may be interested in enveloping the entire universe with it, who knows).

The Datastorm in my eyes is like, if the permet concentration over Earth is that strong and its just permanently stuck like that, then yeah nothing can really do anything to it since a lot of tech in the universe is permet-based, and I would liken that to "trying to use a raw current, to stop an overflowing current". The information can flow freely on Earth, but sacrificing the Earthians and everyone overall to achieve this goal is the mark of a true villain.

The space Assembly League appears to be a U.N.-esque consolidated space-power, this is all-out war. This was Shaddiq's gambit to have the group destroyed - it was helped by Prospera Mercury's actions on Earth.

Their fleet was annihilated by Quiet Zero's web made up of the mini-MS.

At the beginning of GUND-ARM inc. it was just a bunch of people operating what they believed would be a medical equipment company, but they were more-or-less arms dealers. This has never been in doubt, marketing the Aerial, getting to collaborate with others to mass-produce Gundams, that was never ever about medicine. I don't like phrasing it like this, but Mio's idealism about the future was only allowed to take her this far because Delling let it.

That's not to shit on her intelligence or whatever, but the very explotiative and rat-race structure of the Benerit group meant that his word and confidence validated her company more than what it functionally stood for. The episode where GUND-ARM inc. is shown to be celebratory but it's largely just "the status quo being held in-tact with feigned friction". This is how I always took the company.

I like the Earth house and the kids wanting a better future, but the very exploitative world they live in with war-sharing on Earth is clearly fucked up. It's just funny to think "yeah my company is the one non-arms-dealing company in a company largely about security/war tech" built on the subjugation of Earth and privatisation of MS technology.

They did have some technologies they believed could help mankind, but you know, who is selling syringes as well as assault rifles.

Quiet Zero is a device to create gigantic data storm to envelop the earth. The Data Storm concept itself seems to borrow from the New-Type Destroyer and psycommu hijacks from UC. tl;dr Gundam Unicorn can hijack funnels (what bits are called in UC), and other newtype technologies but Unicorn itself can straight up control time but let's not get into that.

This one a lto of people are extremely heated about, but I have always said that Eri is the one that can shield Suletta from the Data Storm. Even though the "download" Ericht does burns Suletta, it's not the same as piloting the machine since she was interfacing with Aerial itself.

Eri can't shield her from the curse.

Schwarzette, I believed would not be Suletta's even after it got shown because it is the last piece of Guel Jeturk's link to his father. I believe he will get the curse despite him being my favourite character (and I have been rooting for him since he showed sparks of brilliance n Episode 3).

Suletta knows that El4n isn't alive.

Petra is alive, people theorised this would be the case given that there's a shot of prosthetic legs in one of the previous episodes - she will be one of the first cases of someone getting prosthetics besides Prospera on-screen.

Lauda to Schwarzette is the wildcard I did not know - I predicted that someone else who wasn't Suletta would take on the curse, but I didn't know it would be Guel's half-brother.

It seems that Guel will be the grunt-suit specialist, Lauda will pilot Schwarzette and Suletta will pilot Caliban.

The whole "surprise" new Gundam shit doesn't bother me because it's a series trope, it's not something borne out of a relation to The Tempest.

This is an extremely heavy handed reference to the old-world weapons developed in secret that being Unicorn = Calibarn, Banshee = Banshee & Phenex = Aerial. The third one was known to anyone who even knows about Gundam UC.

People were fairly in denial about this concept, but my final prediction was that one or both of Miorine and Suletta would become enveloped in the Datastorm mostly because of how red:birthmark plays out visually. They're not on the same realm until they're contained in Eri's hands, in an aetherial world that doesn't look like the space outside.

The Schwarzette to Suletta theories, while commendable were mostly based on the idea that they wouldn't let someone who is going to die from the curse do that which is provably wrong given that Sophie died from it in the first episode and now this episode itself has shown that Suletta isn't permet resistant, Eri herself was the one protecting her.

A lot of the events of MSG The Witch From Mercury are not new nor are they like, uncharacteristic of the series and its themes.

I think some people were getting frustrated that suletta has a slower-cooking characte arc but the protagonist should always have the longest run of development in a story like this. Like yeah, you can give characters big surges in development, but Suletta is tied in a gordian knot to Aerial, Eri, Prospera & Miorine so it's only going to go as fast as the overarching plot moves which is not over so of course it's not going to be cathartic in episode 20/21 as opposed to episode 25. Suletta is doing a lot to grow it's just in the subtleties as opposed to some cool one liner or a victory lap with her MS. Besides, she's getting a new MS and it's not Schwarzette so we have the stage set for ideals, self, existence & family to clash swords in a battle grown laden with the bodies of the innocent.

Suletta will have the last, and best character ending because her's is the one that spans 25 episodes, not 8 or 9 episodes.

As for the next four episodes:

Prospera Mercury probably dying (there is a non-zero chance she might live since people fake-die all the time in Gundam).

Lauda taken by the curse OR Guel is killed in battle (temporary death).

Miorine reunites with Suletta at the end of the season (I theorized that separation would be a recurring theme during this season).

Miorine's eye is blown up, however, I think this visual metaphor in the ED is more of a narrative kind of thing where she's lost one eye because she's had her ideals completely dismantled by inadvertently staging a false-flag attack more or less. Doesn't really matter that she didn't know that it would happen, her very character is lamenting everything that's happened in this episode.

Suletta hasn't really shown the same level of like social awkwardness and has a lot more confident body language in the last two episodes, I think that she will have a much firmer resolve to stop her mother if it means Eri & the kids can be free.

I'm not really that into theorycrafting but those are my remaining predictions.

I don't know how this show will end, I don't know if SuleMio will get their happy ending, I don't know if one or both of the Jeturk brothers are dying and I don't know who makes it out of this one alive - all I know, is that we got some good Gundam each week and I'm not gona argue with some people about it every week.

Oh, also, Suletta will get the curse if there's no filter - remember what Olcott said and the repeated references to a lack of care for pilot safety throughout the series.

Every single part of season 2 has been peak fiction. I'm enjoying the ride, so let's enjoy what it has to offer.

tl;dr - QZ = permet disrupting field, Suletta doesn't actually have permet "resistance" as Eri did not either, Lauda to Schwarzette, Miorine has PTSD from the attack on Earth, Suletta has strengthened her resolve and largely shed her self-doubts especially in Episode 20, Petra alive, Gundam Caliban is probably Unicorn, Schwarzette is Banshee, and Aerial is Phenex [tl;dw - ghost in a Mobile Suit].

[f1]

Lewis Hamilton's style statement ahead of Azerbaijan Grand Prix has fans comparing him to 'SHREK'

Lewis Hamilton’s bold statement look in Baku ahead of the Azerbaijan Grand Prix has some fans comparing the seven-time world champion to 'SHREK'… whilst others hail the return of ‘Lewis Hamilton Fashion Week’! By Tamara Prenn For Mailonline Published: 13:24 EDT, 27 April 2023 | Updated: 13:24 EDT, 27 April 2023 Lewis Hamilton stepped out in an eye-catching look ahead of this weekend's Azerbaijan Grand Prix that had fans taking to Twitter to discuss his fashion statement.  The seven-time world champion donned a head-to-toe Louis Vuitton outfit from the French fashion house's Fall/Winter 2023 collection as he made his way through the paddock in Baku for media duties before race weekend gets underway with tomorrow's opening practice session.  Hamilton has long enjoyed a relationship with the LVMH cornerstone brand, burnished by his friendship with the house's former menswear designer Virgil Abloh.  When Abloh died in November 2021 after privately battling cancer, Hamilton penned an emotional tribute to his friend and collaborator, calling him an 'icon and legend' and saying that he would 'never forget' Abloh's unwavering support.  But whilst fans poked fun at the striking combination on the social media platform, they also praised Hamilton for once again making the paddock his runway.  Lewis Hamilton sported an eye-catching green outfit in Baku ahead of race weekend The seven-time world champion completed the look with Louis Vuitton trainers, matching green sunglasses and an array of jewellery One fan said: 'The Lewis Hamilton fashion week is back, ladies and gentlemen, today it looks like he was attacked by Shrek but anyway I like it'.  Another agreed, saying: 'love the jacket'.  A third queried the practicality of the outfit, adding: 'Bro decided to be a plant today. Seriously how this man manages to wear such heavy looking clothes in a weather like that'.  But another dubbed the Mercedes driver 'cool as ever'.  Fans took to Twitter to praise the drivers' wardrobe choice but not without some gentle teasing Hamilton will hope that Mercedes' pre-hiatus form continues after the break in Baku, following the driver's second place finish at the Australian Grand Prix in March.  Having had a less-than impressive start to the season – which saw concern grow that the constructor had been unable to banish the demons that haunted the team last season – team principal Toto Wolff had warned fans that they might not see improvements in the W14 until at least the Emilia Romagna Grand Prix.  But a strong showing in Melbourne hinted that Hamilton and his team-mate George Russell might yet be competitive, if not at the front of the pack, then in the fight for second place in the constructor's championship.  One fan wondered jokingly if Hamilton's sartorial statement was more loaded than it seemed The Briton returns to Azerbaijan and a race circuit where he has won once before with an eye to ramping up his W14's ability to compete at the front of the pack One fan on Twitter wondered Hamilton was sending a message with his green outfit choice, stating tongue-in-cheek: 'Lewis to Aston Martin confirmed'.  Hamilton's future has been a talking point from the first race of the season, with rumours swirling that if the Briton feels he is unable to realistically challenge for a historic eighth world championship, he may move teams.  Whisperings that Ferrari might be the best option should Hamilton make a shock move away from Mercedes led to questions posed for the Italian team's star driver Charles Leclerc.  On Thursday, Leclerc refused to rule out a future move to Mercedes should the constructors set up a swap, but said that for now, he is 'fully focused' on winning with Ferrari.  Share or comment on this article: Lewis Hamilton's style statement ahead of Azerbaijan Grand Prix has fans comparing him to 'SHREK' via Formula One | Mail Online https://www.dailymail.co.uk?ns_mchannel=rss&ns_campaign=1490&ito=1490

[bobparkhurst]

festive ficlets: dec 22

Prompt from @almost-a-class-act

Pairing: Bull Randleman x Johnny Martin [modern au]

Prompt: Character A is side hustling as a mall Santa and Character B gets their picture taken with them for whatever reason.

“This is the best day of my life.”

“This is the last day of your life.”

“That ain’t a very holly jolly thing to say,” Bull tells him, smiling wide. “There’s kids about, Santa.”

If looks could kill, Bull would be a very small stain on a very busy highway right about now. But, happily, they cannot and so he’s quite safely standing, holding his phone camera like a trophy, about four feet away from where the love of his life is sitting in a small glittery Santa’s grotto, and thoroughly enjoying the misery rolling off him in waves.

A small girl with pigtails and an Iron Maiden t-shirt she’s wearing as a dress comes to a halt in front of Johnny and there’s zero chance that anyone has ever clicked the camera button faster than Bull Randleman does right this moment. Beneath the beard, Johnny’s death glare is instantly transformed into a wide smile and a ho ho ho as he holds out his hands to the child. Her mother, a few feet away, has her own camera out and looks at Bull a little askance. He smiles and waves his left hand at her, pointing at Johnny with a wink; her consternation smooths into an expression reminiscent of someone who's just learned a particular fact about sleeping otters. 

When the girl and her mother bounce away, Johnny beckons Bull over. He almost skips.

“What the fuck,” asks Johnny, “is a magic mixie?”

Bull grins.

“If you say it’s my new pet name, I will not be held responsible for anything that comes next.”

He is saved from responding by the sudden appearance of a queue of children of various sizes and steps aside to allow them to cluster around Johnny Claus, talking over each other in their eagerness to give him their Christmas lists. He manages, manfully, not to cackle as Johnny affixes what can only be described as a pure rictus grin to the photos that are being taken by half a dozen phone cameras. He snaps a selfie of his own, flashing a peace sign at the camera while the mayhem goes on in the background.

As precarious as his life might be at this moment, needling Johnny on what is possibly the most stressful day of his life, Bull at least relaxes in the thought that he can only be at most in second position on his shit list, right after Don Malarkey, who was supposed to have been Santa - and indeed, had been talking about this for weeks, much to the utter chagrin of pretty much everyone in a twelve foot radius - and had proceeded to immediately come down with a bad head cold. Not enough to worry anyone, of course, but certainly, the mall had not been willing to risk a sneezing and snuffling Santa anywhere near the kids. He’s still not sure how Don managed to convince Johnny to take his place, but here he was, for better (by Bull’s reckoning) or for worse (definitely Johnny’s).

“Why the fuck are you still here?” Johnny demands, as soon as the queue lets up. Judging by the way their father’s footsteps start to hurry, the last kid might not have gotten quite far enough out of earshot first. As close to the end of his shift as Johnny is, it doesn’t much seem to Bull like he cares.

“I’m supporting my husband,” Bull tells him.There is a very ugly noise which emanates from somewhere deep in the recesses of Johnny’s throat. Bull pats his arm. 

“Tell you what, Santa,” he says, “let me sit on your knee a minute and I’ll let you tell me what you want for Christmas.”

Johnny looks unconvinced. He shuffles a little over on the small, tinsel-covered seat so that Bull can squeeze him beside him.

“Better yet,” Bull continues, eyebrows waggling. “Let me guess what it is.” 

“Bull…” His tone is warning and completely ignored.

“Is it… to get your revenge on Malark as soon as he gets better?” he asks. “‘Cause I already sent him a truckload of oranges. For his health.”

For the first time in the last four hours, Johnny’s face brightens with a smile that touches his eyes.

“Yes,” he says, with a bloodthirsty passion that might, to many, be frightening, and to Bull only feels utterly endearing. 

He’s already waiting, head tilted, as Johnny pulls the curtain down to shield the grotto, and seals the intention with a kiss. 

The kids are just going to have to queue a bit longer.