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night-unfurls-its-splendour · 3 years

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The Critique of Manners Part VI

~Or~

An Attempt at an Objective Review of Emma (2009)... VOLUME TWO

Haha, bitches you didn't think I could wait a whole week did you? Nah, not me. and guys, I added to it--all total, it's 9,023 words now. this half of the review is 5,214. HOW DO I HAVE SO MANY WORDS FOR THIS THING? I'm not gonna split it into a third part, because I don't need to for picture limit purposes, but buckle in.

If you didn't catch it, read part 1 here

Here it is, the stunning conclusion to my Emma Adaptation Review series (but this isn't really the end because I plan on doing some rankings later). In this half of my review of BBC'S Emma (2009) we'll discuss Costumes and all the very specific things that I love about this version, and some things I don't like, and some things I'm here to defend.

Let's dive in!

Costumes

Generally I liked these costumes pretty well. They were designed and facilitated by Rosalind Ebbutt, also known for her work on PBS’s Victoria and Vanity Fair (1998). And her work is, as her filmography would suggest, by turns, great and so-so.

These costumes are definitely in line with the adaptation’s general aesthetic: warm pinks and golds, with mints emeralds and blues to cool it off a little, are the order of the day. I really appreciate that every character has a definite color palette. The tradeoff is that this adaptation is the WORST EVER offender for the Jane Fairfax Blue™ trope.

Daywear

Emma’s daywear is full of warm and muted colors. Salmon and magenta are commonly seen. I love that most of Emma’s daywear consists of sleeveless or short-sleeved gowns with wide-sleeved linen blouses underneath. It’s not a commonly seen aesthetic so it feels light and fresh. My favorite of Emma’s daywear dresses is the pale yellow with purple floral print.

There’s one other in particular that I love.

Emma’s blue, sleeveless dress. I love this because of HOW OBVIOUSLY it’s a reference to this portrait of Charlotte, Princess of Wales. I mean...

I’M NOT IMAGINING THIS, RIGHT? WHY DOES NO ONE TALK ABOUT THIS? This is a REAL dress. They still have this exact gown of Princess Charlotte’s. It’s on display. It’s faded, but it’s the same dress.

Harriet has a fresh and innocent green, white and purple color scheme with healthy doses of peach and pink showing. I particularly like her white and purple floral print dress.

Mrs. Weston’s color palette varies, but leans heavily on tans and purples, which is very flattering, I must say, to Johdi May’s coloring and is really refreshing for Mrs. Weston who seems to get stuck in pinks and yellows a lot. No idea what’s going on with the laced-front dress though? This doesn’t quite read as authentic to me, but I do like that her first dress seems to be an apron-front.

I know I already said that this is the worst Jane Fairfax Blue™ offender, but guys I can’t stress it enough. WE ARE 5/5 ON DAYWEAR HERE. LOOK AT THAT. (Also of note, Jane 5 is one of Gwyneth Paltrow’s dresses from the '96 Emma.)

Mrs. Elton seems, at all times, to be wearing some form of pink, but I think I’m right in saying that the white day dress with the rose patterned bodice under the yellow and pink spencer is one of Jane’s dresses from P&P ’80. Can anyone confirm that? They did sneak in some Mrs. Elton Orange™ though, for Box Hill, and it’s worth noting that Mrs. Elton is the only lady who’s appropriately dressed on that occasion.

Isabella gets some understated day gowns that are very nice and also VERY “Jane Austen” in the sense that I feel like Jane Austen herself might have worn them.

Miss Bates, unfortunately is slapped with brown at just about every turn, but at least her “Nice” day outfit has some subtle leaf patterns, which is refreshing. Also Mrs. Goddard has a slappin’ cap. Love that.

Also, Harriet’s Grecian costume for the painting (upper right hand corner). What can I say, but that I love it. I love that it hints at the neoclassical influences on Regency fashion too. This is my favorite interpretation of the painting too.

Evening Wear

You know what I love about this version? It’s the first version of Emma where her gown for the Crown in Ball isn’t WHITE. I know, I know white was fashionable, but it’s just… it’s nice for not EVERY gown in a ball scene to be plain white friggin muslin and also, it’s not one she’s ever worn before, which is great.

Harriet does have only white evening gowns but that’s okay. My only complaint is that, specifically on her Crown Inn dress and in a lot of her costumes in general, the waistline seems just a little low. Hmm. I really like the pale blue pattern on her first evening dress though.

Mrs. Weston though. Woo. Look at those. She has a dark chartreuse gown with black lace trim that any other version would have put on Mrs. Elton, so you know from the dark tones that she’s a bitch. Not so with Emma '09, and that’s good. And her teal dinner number is a favorite of mine. I never paid much attention to her green and gold ball gown but it has some really beautiful, subtle leaf or maybe peacock feather patterns on it and I love that. My only problem is that there seem to be some fit issues. She’s got muffin top way too often. Her orange evening dress is a bit of a dud though, firstly, because it has long sleeves (which is an evening gown no-no) and the fabric slaps a bit too much of sari fabric for my tastes.

Jane, not only is put in blue with both of her evening gowns (although one is so pale it borders on white), ONE of them is another Emma ’96 repeat and not only that, it’s one of Jane Fairfax’s dresses in that film! Perhaps that’s enough to make it an homage, and I have to say, I think Laura Pyper wore it better.

Miss Bates only has one evening wear ensemble, but at least it’s cream and not brown.

Mrs. Elton’s gowns are surprisingly understated, and yet still seem to be annoyingly fussy and, what’s better? They’re not sickly green. One of them is actually a very pleasant mint.

Outerwear

Outerwear is roundly pretty great here. Emma’s primary choice of color for spencers is emerald/evergreen and one of them is Elizabeth’s Bennet’s from the 1995 P&P (though to be honest, I think Jennifer Ehle filled it out better.) I do love Mrs. Elton’s pink and yellow number with the slashed sleeves. Jane Fairfax’s only spencer is, you guessed it, blue, but her friend Miss Campbell has a rather fun mauve one.

There’s no shortage of pelisses and redingotes either. Harriet can be seen in one borrowed from Elinor Dashwood in the '08 S&S, Mrs. Weston has a rather fabulous purple one which she wears with the most delicious looking hat I’ve ever seen.

Emma has two. The first one is a great magenta number with military braiding (and I think she wears with it one of the brown slouch hats that Kate Beckinsale wore in the same role) and while the other pelisse is brown, they had the sense not to make her wear a hat with it that was also brown. Instead, they gave her a contrasting color. Good on ya, Rosalind!

Speaking of hats, I don't often single them out for commentary, but I want to here because… the hat authenticity is… kinda spotty. Let me show you.

Okay first of all, Emma may be a teenager in this pic on the upper left, but she is not dressed formally enough for her sister’s wedding (which is what’s going on in this scene) but at least her hat is pretty good. You can see the ribbons are on the inside of the hat here, which is as it should be… but she never wears this hat again. At any point in the series. Instead, we next see her in the one on the upper right and ye gads this is atrocious. WHY IS HER HAT NOT PINNED ON? IT’S SLIDING DOWN THE BACK OF HER HEAD. SOMONE FIX IT. PLEASE. But wait, there’s more. This kills me because these bottom two are so similar to the one she wore earlier (the correct one) but crappier looking. Jeez.

This is not a hat. It’s a peanut. You know who doesn’t have this problem? Harriet. She only has one sun hat but at least it’s correct.

I also wanna touch briefly on this ^ costume continuity issue.

WTF is this? She’s in the hall, her ribbon is contoured to the line of her dress; she goes into the drawing room and… it isn’t anymore? Wha happun?

I took more menswear screencaps for this version than any other version. And that’s because the men just have more outfits that are, y’know, different from each other.

Mr. Knightley is as understated as ever, but I wanna highlight the first pic there and why I love it. This is Knightley’s first appearance in the series and it’s the perfect establishing shot that shows the viewer everything they need to know about Emma and Knightley’s relationship and how it has always been. He sort of materializes, out of focus in the background, but Emma immediately knows he’s there. And to accentuate how much Knightley is part of her home and scenery, his clothes (similar shades of pale tan, white and minty green to the wall behind him) almost camouflage him and make him seem at one with the moulding.

He also has a rather lovely blue evening waistcoat that I WISH I could have gotten better shot of (although I do believe it’s also worn by Henry Crawford in the '07 Mansfield Park, so for further reading…)

Mr. Weston finally gets to wear clothes that aren’t all brown! He only has ONE brown outfit. He gets PATTERNED waistcoats, one of them a rather spiffing blue and brown striped number. And he wears TROUSERS! Because he’s a gentleman, and he’s not that old and trousers are worn by fashionable gentlemen in this period!

You know who else gets to wear trousers and at least one fun waistcoat? Mr. Woodhouse. Check out that lovely Sunday Best™ waistcoat. The red striped one. That’s delightful.

John Knightley’s evening wear intrigues me. That’s a double-breasted jacket, and you know I’m not totally sure that’s very authentic for evening-wear of this period, but it is different. Unfortunately he also has a flared top hat and that is definitely not on for this period.

One of my favorite things about this version is that they don’t dress Mr. Elton as a clergyman all the time. Yes, he may be the vicar, but he’s also allowed to dress like a fashionable, handsome young man. So I’m really happy that he gets to flex his fashion muscles here.

And speaking of fashionable young men, FINALLY frank gets to be COLORFUL and his trousers are even tight enough. Both he AND Elton are often seen wearing TWO waistcoats, as I would expect them to, and even though Frank’s a dandy, he knows that flashiness is gauche so his pops of color are bright, but not in your face. His green and red waistcoats are always worn under more muted colors, and I just love it.

The only problems are… what’s with the turned-down waistcoat collars? There’s no precedent for this, in fact I think it’s directly contradictory to the style at the time, and also it makes the cravats look a bit unruly.

A Critique of Manners

A lot has been said about the manners in this adaption. Like, the actual manners, body language and facial expressions, specifically vis-à-vis Romola Garai.

And, oh yeah, there’s a lot to pick at here, but first I’d like to talk about the facial expressions.

I'm mostly gonna be talking out of my ass here, but this is my take, so if anyone can make a better argument against my points, I am listening, because I don't really like talking out of my ass and I like to be informed. That said...

I tend to be lenient on the… exaggerated facial expressions because, something I’ve noticed reading Austen’s works through the last several months is that Austen is very descriptive when it comes to facial expressions and I just find it hard to believe that people in the Regency Era never made exaggerated expressions like this.

I’ve heard a lot about how Garai’s Emma is not dignified or lady-like. But let’s think about the context of Emma Woodhouse – she’s never been in society. She’s only had a governess to teach her, and we know Emma’s always been sort of averse to being told what she can and can’t do. Emma is the highest ranking woman in her social circle (barring Isabella’s occasional presence). Emma doesn’t have to be ladylike. At 21, she’s already her local Lady Catherine. She puts a lot of stock in her position in society but, as Mrs. Elton will be the first to hypocritically point out, she’s very poorly behaved. I'd be very curious to see what would happen if Emma went to London for the season. Probably, she'd be seen, comparatively, as a country bumpkin. Can you imagine how she might get on in a sea of accomplished young ladies? She can barely handle having ONE rival with any kind of grace.

Austen never describes bodily movements of the kind we’re looking at when we watch adaptations, so why not have Emma’s body-language be un-ladylike in the conventional sense of the time? I’m not saying this to excuse the absolutely inexcusable (Frank’s head in her lap, kneeling on the sofa backwards etc.), but while Emma’s mannerisms aren’t exactly ladylike for her time, they’re not overtly masculine either (which was one of my biggest problem with Death Comes to Pemberly for example.)

Yes, there’s an ideal for manners. But we know real people didn’t always follow those ideals. In dancing for example, many dancing guidebooks of the day were full of repeated instructions not to be too loud or rambunctious when dancing. What this tells us is that people were doing just that, and probably quite a bit, too. I think that, while taking societal strictures into account, we shouldn’t totally discount the idea that people in the Regency weren’t really that different from us, and young people especially.

Now I’ve already mentioned some of the inexcusable aspects of interaction in this adaptation and they’re so notorious at this point, I don’t think that I really need to go over them much here. Although I will say: is it ridiculous to have Frank Churchill put his head in Emma’s lap? Yes. Did it make me more viscerally uncomfortable with the situation on Box Hill than any other version? Yes.

I was like, 14 when I watched this the first time. This was an effective way to telegraph to young people like me that Emma is being extremely inappropriate here in a way that no other version really managed to, even when I watched them when I was older and understood the period more. I’m far more acquainted with Regency manners than I was then, but to be honest – if they had been accurate with the manners here, when I was 14 I would not have understood what the big deal was. Is there merit in circumventing historical accuracy in favor of reaching a less-informed but still-interested audience? Yes, I think so. There were three other versions of this, at that point, that did this scene with more or less pristine manners. Not every version has to follow the manners of the time to-the-letter to be good. That’s my feeling on the matter.

There are things that do really bother me though. Like the idea that Harriet Smith doesn’t know how to spoon soup, for instance. As I said in my review for the Miramax version, table manners are pretty basic, there’s no reason Mrs. Goddard wouldn’t have taught Harriet this. It does provide a good moment to show Emma tacitly coaching Harriet and showing the trajectory in which this relationship will go, but personally I don’t think it was necessary—there are plenty of other ways that could be done.

Also: kids at the dinner table? I know this is part of building the familial atmosphere but it really does annoy me, because apart from building the familial atmosphere (which they do very well and frequently in other ways) it really didn’t need to happen, and it doesn’t add anything.

The Heart of Highbury

So, as I’ve hinted at throughout this review, the bread and butter of this adaptation of Emma is emotion. This version goes hard and heavy on showingthe relationships – Emma’s relationships with Mrs. Weston, Mr. Knightley, her father, her sister, her brother-in-law, Miss Bates; Jane’s relationship with Frank; Frank’s relationship with his father; The John Knightleys’ home life – and it illustrates things that can be surmised from just reading the story, but really draws your attention to them in ways that other adaptations just don’t.

It does this from the very beginning with the prologue which explains in detail (not just in quick exposition between characters) how Jane and Frank were separated from their families at young ages. We know now, from psychological study, that being taken away from their primary caretakers during their formative years is one of the most psychologically traumatizing things for a child. This is deeply important context which is explained in detail by the narrator in 2-3 large pages (in my Barnes & Noble anthology) in the book.

In the featurette on the houses, they talk particularly about Hartfield and the Woodhouses being the heart of Highbury and how they particularly wanted it to feel homey because Hartfield is Emma’s house and they wanted the audience to feel why everyone is so drawn to it, and to Emma; to me that is what they did with the whole adaptation in microcosm.

I usually talk a bit about the dancing and I'm going to here as well because this is maybe the most special dance scene in any Austen for me. Of course I'm going to link to Tea with Cassiane as usual because she knows what she's talking about and I don't. But I wanna add some comments. She gives this a pretty low rating in spite of a generally favorable commentary because of two big oopsies, the circle dance formation is one, and the other is I believe, an issue with the style of dance not matching the tune in Emma's dance with Knightley. Throwing out any objective technical analysis though, this is my favorite Ball in any Austen and it all comes down to the cornerstone of this adaptation--emotion.

All of the songs and dances were original compositions and choreography made for this adaptation. So they're not period per se, but the tunes at least are representative of how Regency dance music should sound. These dances are upbeat, and lively and, damn they look like fun. Everyone is excited here and it makes me understand why dancing was such a big thing. Best of all that excitement adds to the emotional charge of the scene. "The Ship's Cook" is the most fast paced dance and I'm glad they made this the dance where Elton snubs Harriet because it really hits for me just what Harriet would be missing out on if Knightley wasn't so fucking aptly named. In all other versions you get the insult, but the dance that's taking place is usually a Baroque walker so it doesn't seem terribly like she's missing out on much. Here, this is like not getting picked for kickball-- not only is it a slight that no one wants you on their team, but you miss out on even playing the game. Harriet looks so lonely, and her feeling of being out of place rolls off of Louise Dylan so forcefully it chokes me up just thinking about it because I've been there, man. I feel this shit. *dabs eyes*. Ahem. So, yes, when Knightley engages her for the dance the excitement the viewer feels is that much more forceful and Harriet's exuberantly starting to jump in when the timing is off and Knightley gently pulling her back, it just hits me in the feels center, guys. (I wanna take a moment to give a shout out to every camp counselor who ever partnered with me for any game at summer camp.) Emma's reaction too, is gold. Her genuine relief at Knightley swooping in is one of those great reminders that Emma is Harriet's friend, and she does care about her.

Finally on the dancing front, I wanna talk about Emma's dance with Knightley and why I prefer it to the one in the 2020 version. I already talked about this a bit in the 2020 review, so I'm gonna try and keep it brief. That shouldn't be too hard, because I'm probably mostly going to repeat a lot of what I've already said about Emma and Knightley in this version as a whole.

The big thing everyone loves about the Crown Inn dance in the 2020 is the yearning, the sexual tension, the quivering touches etc. Don't get me wrong, I LOVE all of those things but... not all the time. Not in everything, and definitely not in Emma. Because Emma, to me, isn't about repressed sexuality or heated tension or seething passion. Emma and Knightley are the opposite of that, to me, really. One of my mutuals put it best, I think: "Emma and Knightley are more suited to stolen glances than hot touches."

In Part 1 I talked about how Knightley is Emma's comfort object. When Emma is out of sorts, Knightley re-centers her. It helps set up, and puts emphasis on, the crisis of the story in the last act--Emma not knowing what she has until [she thinks] she's lost it. Emma and Knightley are Friends to Lovers done as it should be. She is already so comfortable with him she doesn't even realize her own feelings. She just feels right with Knightley and that's what this dance is here to show you--a foreshadowing of matrimonial harmony.

The dance itself, of course, is always up to interpretation, because Austen never describes how it goes, just that Knightley asks Emma to dance and Knightley doesn't dance (barring charitable causes). If you prefer the sexual tension take, if that, to you is an improvement on Austen's story and gives you what you've always felt was missing, I'm glad that there is a version now that gives you what you've been looking for, but for me, I think the 09 approach hits closer their dynamic in the book.

Now do I do think the Emphasis on emotion maybe went a little too earnest in some places in this adaptation? Maybe. Just a little.

In my last review (1972) I went on a rather lengthy tirade about the scene where they turn Emma’s appeals to Harriet to exert herself and move on following Mr. Elton’s marriage into Emma guilting Harriet into thinking she’s a bad friend for being heartbroken and then throwing her into the situation most likely to rub salt in that particular wound.

In this version, while I love the emphasis they put on the stress Emma puts on her own guilt for being the reason for Harriet’s situation in the first place, I think it’s maybe a little too… much.

That’s the only way I can put it. I know I’ve just said that I think there should be a bit more expressiveness in period drama, but this doesn’t quite match the way I read it (Emma’s a bit less desperate in Austen’s prose. Very dedicated to helping Harriet feel better, but just a skosh more composed). I think she’s even crying in this scene.

While we’re here let’s go over to Box Hill ONE. MORE. TIME.

First of all, this is where this screenplay shines, in my opinion. This is the big turning point in the story and as such, should be a touchstone for the judgment of any adaptation. This sequence in the 2009 version is a perfect crystallization of everything I love about this version—namely that this is the version that, to me, most feels like someone read the book thoroughly, paid attention to what Austen was describing and then actually tried to convey it on screen. A lot of other versions sort of feel (to me), like the director glanced at the page and said “here’s what I want to convey in my version”. Insofar as making a piece of art goes, that’s good. Directors are artists as much as painters are and movies are their canvass, but it’s seldom that you find a director who honestly wants to hit as close to the author intent as possible and this Box Hill sequence makes me feel like that’s what Jim O’Hanlon was going for. I have the book open next to me as I write this and it’s shocking to me how minutely the atmosphere described in the book is conveyed here. Most of all, the fact that Emma’s insulting Miss Bates is not the only thing faux pas she makes here. Box Hill as a whole is a disaster, and it’s largely because of Frank.

“When they all sat down it was better; to [Emma’s] taste, a great deal better, for Frank Churchill grew talkative and gay, making her his first object. To amuse her, and to be agreeable in her eyes, seemed to be all that he cared for—and Emma, glad to be enlivened, and not sorry to be flattered, was gay and easy too, and gave him all the friendly encouragement, the admission to be gallant, which she had ever given in the first and most animating period of their acquaintance; but which now, in her own estimation, meant nothing, though in the judgment of most people looking on it must have had such an appearance as no English word but flirtation could very well describe. “Mr. Frank Churchill and Miss Woodhouse flirted excessively.” They were laying themselves open to that very phrase—and to having it sent off in a letter to Maple Grove by one lady, to Ireland by another. Not that Emma was gay and thoughtless from any real felicity; it was rather because she felt less happy than she expected. She laughed because she was disappointed…” --Emma, Chapter 43

Most other versions rush through Frank��s “excessive” flirting with Emma (Right in front of Jane) to get to “Three Things Very Dull Indeed” as fast as possible, and yes that’s the crowning horror of Box Hill, but there’s a very intricate setting here, too, and this version has the time to lay back and let it all unfold in the oppressive discomfort of an English summer day.

Even better than all of that though is Knightley confronting Emma after it all goes down. This treatment is neither plaintive, nor aggressive as it was in ‘96 and ‘97 respectively. I’ve already extolled the virtues of Johnny Flynn’s Box Hill rebuke, but for a change I’m not going to zero in on Miller’s performance which is, at least as good as Flynn’s, but on Romola Garai’s, which I find superior to Anya Taylor Joy’s. Specifically, her reaction once she’s alone.

ATJ in the 2020 version immediately breaks down sobbing and it’s hard for me to feel that she’s sobbing for “anger against herself, mortification, and deep concern” or that there’s much self-reflection going on there. To me it rather just feels like she’s crying because she got shouted at. The theatrics of it, to me, feel childish and self-centered.

I don’t feel that with Garai’s performance.

“She was vexed beyond what could have been expressed—almost beyond what she could conceal. Never had she felt so agitated, mortified, grieved, at any circumstance in her life. She was most forcibly struck . . . How could she have exposed herself to such ill opinion in anyone she valued! And how to suffer him to leave her without saying one word of gratitude, of concurrence, of common kindness!

Time did not compose her…” --Emma, Chapter 43

Of course one can make the case that Emma's reaction should be a bit childish because Emma is an immature character, but that's the thing--I can agree with you anywhere else in this story but this is Emma's maturing moment. This is her turning point as a character. It's where we should see her reactions shift from the same childish denial we're used to seeing when Knightley scolds her, because this is different. It's not the usual brushing off of big brother Knightley, this is a young woman reacting to an esteemed friend pointing out how abhorrently inappropriate she's been and her having to admit that to herself.

I didn't really want to drag comparisons to the 2020 film into this, not on this scale at least, but this just jumped out at me the last time I watched the new film and I have to express it somewhere.

What I see in Garai’s performance is desolation and mortification. That shocked tearfulness of knowing you’ve been justly reproached for wrongdoing, but being too frozen in a pretense of composure to actually cry about it until you’re quite sure that no one will see you. And especially when it’s someone you esteem rebuking you, the horror of them leaving before you can admit that they’re right. There’s so much more depth here, I think, and I can’t even quite express what it makes me feel.

The aspect of time not composing her is another thing that they decided to put stress on in this version. Emma looks fucked up in the following scenes. When she goes to see Miss Bates, she clearly either hasn’t slept or has slept very badly. I feel like this is maybe an anticlimactic conclusion to this section but I’m afraid I’m very close to reaching incoherence, so I’m just gonna leave it here.

My absolute favoritest thing about this version though—something that sets it apart from ALL other versions and even adaptations of other Austen stories—is the inclusion of the post-confession conversation.

This is something of a trope in Austen books but it very rarely finds its way into adaptations: confessions of love are out of the way, the hero and heroine settle into an easy an comfortable conversation, glowing with happiness as they explain and laugh over their actions and misinterpretations of each other’s choices. It happens in Pride and Prejudice, in Persuasion, and yes, in Emma. This is the only Austen adaptation, that I've seen, to include this kind of conversation in any kind of detail. The 1995 Pride and Prejudice alludes to the corresponding scene in it its source material, but the lines pulled from it get tossed into the confession scene itself and then it flies through to get to the obligatory wedding—a side effect of rushing through endings, a convention I’m rather tired of.

Emma (2009) takes its time with this, as with all other aspects of this adaptation. For a version that’s so full of energy, its pacing is extremely laid back and comfortable, without dragging. When you hear the gentle musical swell and Emma and Knightley have their kiss (this whole confession sequence is so sweet and wonderful in its own right), you expect that to be it. But no, we cut to them, the picture of contented happiness, sitting together on a bench overlooking Hartfield’s garden, just talking and enjoying being together, with no teasing, no pretense. If Jane Austen stories emphasize anything, it’s the importance of communication in relationships, and I think that’s maybe why she made it a point in almost every story to show her characters communicating their feelings in words, even after all the conflict has been resolved. This is my favorite scene in the whole series (In case it being my header image didn’t make that obvious.)

This is followed rather promptly by a cut to the next day, with Emma bursting in to Donwell in hysterics about how they can’t be married because she won’t leave her father alone.

This is one of those maybe over-the-top choices that a lot of people don’t like, but guys, it was so funny to me when I was fourteen and it still makes me laugh. It might seem outlandish, but to me it’s just the emphasis on personal relationships and emotion coming through again and it always makes me smile.

Final Thoughts

It’s hard for me to give a proper round up of my feelings for this section because I think I’ve poured just about all of my feelings on each aspect into its dedicated sections.

At the end of the day, the only thing that really disappoints me about this version is the number of missed opportunities there are here. One of my favorite parts of reading Austen is when I run across a line in dialogue or narrative that just… slaps. But they never make it into the adaptations. Emma is full of them and I just wish that Sandy Welch could have taken an opportunity to slip a few of them in.

In summary, I think this is a wonderful, heartfelt adaptation aimed at getting to the emotional heart of a story that often gets caught up in the Mean Girl-ness of its main character than the coming of age story that it is. It's one of my favorite period dramas because it's one of the few that really captures the spirit of the source material as it's always felt to me. There's really only two other period dramas that I esteem on the same level as this, and they're North & South (2004) and Jane Eyre (2011) and it's for the same reasons; because they impact me deeply on an emotional level--which is what art is supposed to do--because of how well it captures the essence of the story that I know and love.

So did I succeed in a more objective review of Emma 2009? I' feel like probably not. But I tried my best. It’s so hard to be objective about something that makes you as happy as this adaptation makes me.

Ribbon Rating: Most Agreeable (83 Ribbons)

Tone: 10

Casting: 9

Acting: 9

Scripting: 7

Pacing: 10

Cinematography: 7

Setting: 9

Costumes: 6

Music: 8

Book Accuracy: 8

#emma 2009 #emma woodhouse #mr. knightley #jane austen #jane austen emma #romola garai #jonny lee miller #period dramas #regency

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gyllousos · 3 years

Text

Warnings: Depression, masochists, language.

Dedicated to @the-grimm-writer

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Hannya despised hospitals. She hated the smell of disinfectant, the plain white walls decorated with awareness for the human body, as well as the chairs in the waiting room. Not that the one she was sitting in was uncomfortable, yet her ass felt like a pin cushion since she'd been in the thing for well over an hour and counting. Just ten minutes ago she had gone to the vending machine for a soda, downing the Sprite in one gulp.

She was still staring into the empty soda can as though it would refill with more of the carbonated beverage. Her thumb pressed into the side, crinkling the corner. Above her a TV played an old show, something about two children using their imagination to escape into a new world.

One where they forgot about all the bad stuff, even for a moment, a paradise for two. A haven. Thinking about that made a lump swell in Hannya's throat. She set her can onto a nearby table, curling her hands into her lap. A nail dug into the fabric of her leggings, she winced at the bruise there. It was still throbbing a week later, still sore. Her back arched from the cut diagonal cut, also a week old, but it didn't pulse like the thigh bruise did.

Her old cuts and bruises hurt most days, even though half of them were healed for weeks, despite their ugliness in the beginnings. She used to never recognize herself in the mirror after they fucked. Not screwed, but fucked until she lay beneath him unable to move, a quivering mess of orgasm.

God. She was truly sick.

She inhaled slowly through her nose. Hannya refused to cry in this place. One of the nurses had been looking at her so often, a pitying look in her eyes. Hannya avoided eye contact.

She knew that nurse too well, she'd nearly made a home here. But that was long ago. And the nurse, a petite brunette with gentle doe eyes was always so kind to her.

Vague flashes of Hannya in a room where she was monitored, wearing a gown, and counting the hours on the clock to her meds. No, she wasn't going down memory lane again.

What if she broke again? But not because of him.

Dabi.

ㅤHe twisted the fabric of her shirt, bunching tightly. There were tearing sounds. Fraying sounds. Dragging her to within inches of his leering, predatory smile.

ㅤHer shirt came away in a ribbon, leaving her in unkempt, scant rags. He sneered, pinching a nipple as her pert little breasts jiggled free. Dabi tweaked the nipple, and swatted her breast with an open-palmed slap.

Hannya let out a cry between a gasp and a moan.

Dabi clenched his fist around her throat, thrust his arm so she was pinned to the wall behind her. One hand constricted the air from her lungs, while the other twisted cruelly on the same nipple from before.

"Scared yet?"

"No."

ㅤㅤ"No need to lie."

ㅤHis other hand slipped low, her breast freed from his cruel touch only for his hot breath to caress it. Dabi sank teeth into her its supple flesh, snakelike tongue uncoiled to writhe slick against the nipple. His loose fingers delved between her thighs, groping a handful of her warm, tender sex.

ㅤHe didn’t need her to black out from the choking, but it was designed so that every throb of pleasure he squeezed into her body lightened her head. A cruel, sadistic practice to strangle every last drop of ecstasy, to send her spirit into heaven but her body to hell.

Dabi's fingers were long and defined, two sunken deep into the supple heat of her cunt. His pace, merciless. The villain ground the heel of his wrist firmly against her clit, assaulting every inch. He worked in and out of her with aggressive vigor, stirring up loud, sloppy noises from her.

She felt him adjust, she bit her lip from the harsh penetration when he slammed himself into her, those haunting blue eyes never leaving her face.

"You're mine, Hannya."

"I'm yours."

"If another man looks at you the way I look at you, or even thinks about fucking you, I'll split his goddamn skull."

Hannya snapped back to reality at the alert of her name being called. She remembered now that she had been called into the exam room for tests. The gown felt paper thin on her, exposing her to the nurse who held her clipboard in hand.

She hadn't commented on the palm bruise on her thigh or the cut on her back. Hannya was almost relieved her skin was back to semi-normal. It had been a long time since she last been here. How long ago?

Three years since her last attempt.

"You're doing well Hannya, much better since your last visit with us. You've been keeping up with all of your appointments, last time you were hear you had bad anemia and an infection. You bounced back like a champ. "

Hannya smiled faintly. The plump old woman reminded her of a doting grandma.

"Your appetite back to normal?"

"Yes ma'm. Everything is good."

She tried best to hide the clip in her speech.

"Now that we're following up, I'd like to wait for the rest of your test results to come in."

Hannya hid her impatience, wishing time would go forward, she could grab her things and leave. Back to her home where she could close off the world. Block everyone out. Would Dabi be waiting for her? For once, she didn't want to see him. As much as their sadistic games were fun time both of them, she just didn't have the desire. No other man could get her off the way Dabi did.

Lately, she dreaded seeing him propped in her couch, or getting a text from him. She could damn near feel him without him being near. A moment later, when the same woman poked her head in, Hannya actually beamed.

The door closed behind her.

That's when Hannya left the hospital in a daze, barely clutching her phone and purse, she didn't even know she drove home until she parked in the driveway. Turning off the engine, she sat in stunned silence, her knuckles tight onto the steering wheel.

God, she just wanted to turn back time to the last month, the last year, erase everything. She was numb enough as is and she hoped Dabi wasn't waiting on her. She just couldn't take it right now.

“No,” she said, barely audible. The nurse's words echoing in her ears once more.

A sob escaped her. She dragged herself out of her vehicle, barely registering her feet moving towards her home, inside of her apartment. She locked the door behind her. And didn't have to look around to see a tall man with spiked dark hair and a smile that gave her goosebumps.

"Dabi..."

"Miss me?"

Her legs felt like jelly. Her heart was being so fast she feared it rip itself through her chest. Hannya's knees shook, and her heart hammered in my chest. She felt like she was already walled in, and she didn’t even know it.

“I wish I’d never met you,” she said, almost whispering.

He stopped, his boots creaking the wooden floor under him. “Believe me, girl, the feeling is fucking mutual.”

No arguments, no shouting, no cursing even though she wanted to spew a blue streak at him. Eventually she fell onto her knees, the metallic clink of a belt and a zipper being pulled down; she parted her lips for Dabi's cock already slick with precum. She swallowed him into the back of her throat.

"Good girl," he praised her, stroking the back of her head.

___________________________________________

Hannya hadn't seen Dabi since that day, what felt like over a month had turned into sixteen months. As much as she didn't care, she ached for him, and not in the sexual sense. She truly yearned for his company if she could actually believe it. Just what happened to him after that?

No texts, no calls. No sudden appearing without warning. Poof! He never told her he was leaving. Then again he never told her a lot of anything. Hannya often dreamt of him, as the little boy named Touya. The same boy who came crying to her in the catacombs and she to him. Two kids yearning for a place in the world.

She hadn't given up hope she'd see him again, if ever. Hannya swiped her fingers across her phone screen, tucking her device back into her pocket, her blue eyes swiveled up the moon, an ache swelling in her chest.

"I'm losing it..." She mumbled, proceeding to walk. She was patting her pockets for her car keys when a hand snaked its way around her forearm, dragging her into a brick corner, pinning her against a wall.

She couldn't scream because of the stranger's hand covering her mouth. Her eyes doubled in size, his sinister smirk making her skin flush.

Touya!

"Dabi." It came out as a muffle.

"Like you've seen a ghost," he sneered, letting her go.

"For a minute I thought I did..." She whispered.

His eyes raked over her outfit, eyes narrowing in on her chest. He sure knew how to make her vulnerable, naked without undressing her. So he hadn't left after all. Was he hiding from her?

He was never far to begin with. Something told her this wasn't a social visit, she needed to get home before she did something like kiss him. He'd take her right here in public. Wouldn't be the first time.

"I was looking for you, " she said.

"Is that a fact?" His voice was utterly emotionless. Not the least bit of warmth.

"I suppose I was looking for you, too. You made a big mistake Hannya."

The way he said it made Hannya scoot an inch from him.

"What are you talking about?" Hannya remained composed, furrowing her dark brows. Dabi only advanced.

"Telling lies, keeping secrets. It was all gonna come out eventually, you just should have been more careful."

"Dabi..." He chuckled, one hand stuffed in his jacket pocket.

"I...I meant to find you...I was looking for my family."

Dabi almost laughed, shaking his head slightly.

"You were looking for a family, huh? One could argue it's my family you’re looking for right? How are my baby boy and girl by the way? Got my eyes don't they?"

All the color drained from Hannya's face.

A glimpse into memory had her back in the exam room months ago.

"We ran more tests Hannya. Your bloodwork shows you’re also pregnant, a little over eight weeks along. Congratulations.”

Why couldn't the Earth just swallow her whole now? There's no way he could have known. No she wouldn't have told him right away, if at all. He wouldn't have been a great father. When she was told she was pregnant Hannya wanted to cry, scream, break something or even someone. The last thing she had ever wanted inflicted on her had happened, she was in such hysterics she nearly fainted.

Why couldn't it have been anyone but him? The raw cry she let out. She imagined life with two tiny humans, ones she could give unconditional love to. Innocent souls. Her twins. She knew she was going to keep them, her darling babies. How she tried to keep them from Dabi and now...

"You knew...how long..."

"Does it matter? You honestly didn't think you could hide them from me forever Hannya. You should know better than that." His voice was almost a taunt.

"Try keeping them away from me, if you so much as leave with them I'll burn everything down in my path, everyone, to get what I want."

It was like a slap in the face. He wouldn't? Right? No, he had no rights towards their children. Her children. As far as Hannya knew Dabi was just the sperm donor.

Hannya scowled.

Dabi smirked.

He was right, the twins got his eyes alright.

Still advancing, Dabi pinned Hannya to the rough brick wall, his nose level with hers. He didn't want to admit he missed his little devil. He had to resist the urge to to tear off her clothing and fuck her until she was begging him to stop. God, her scent. She couldn't have been more beautiful, plump lips, inviting breasts, fair skin he wanted to mark again.

"I'll be watching you and our children, doll. Who would have thought..."

He gripped her oncoming wrist from slapping him. Should he break it? No. Some other time. He released her, backing up to give her space, almost yearning for the closeness again. No more talk, he left quietly as he came. He heard the faint falling of Hannya on her knees, cursing him to hell and back.

#yandere dabi x oc #yandere bnha x oc #yandere my hero academia #yandere mha #my hero academia fan fiction #yandere bnha #dabi x oc #bnha dabi #mha yandere #yandere dabi #my hero acadamia #by gyllousos all rights reserved 2021 #copyright all rights reserved #dabi smut #mha dabi #mha fanfiction #mha oc #mha smut #yandere

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ithinkhesgaybutwesavedmufasa · 4 years

Text

Footprints in the Sand

Part 3: Less

Summary/Author’s note: We’re getting there I promise. I’m trying not to rush it because I know when I read a slow burn it is so much more satisfying but they are so hard to write because goddammit y’all are in love we know it, just bone. I can also post the Lannister family tree if that helps you guys see the reader’s relation, I did the research to figure out where they fit and…whew boy. That tree has a lot of branches. Enjoy.

Pairing: Oberyn x Ellaria x Reader Word Count: 3k Rating/Warnings: R/18+ Language, Mentions of implied/wrongly accused rape.

(Parts) (1)(2) [MASTERLIST]

Sleep had been impossible. You tossed and turned with thoughts of the Prince and his Paramour and the proposal they had laid at your feet. The smart thing to do would be to weigh your options–compare the idea of leaving behind everything you’ve ever known, or jumping head first off a cliff into a new adventure. Instead, what you had done all night was lay in bed and think of Ellaria’s mouth on yours. You shut your eyes tightly and rolled over burying your face in the pillow.

It wasn’t like you had never thought about another woman in the way you had spent the entire night thinking about Ellaria Sand. Since you were a young girl the idea of kissing another girl had made your heart flutter beneath your breast. Women were beautiful in the same way you found men to be–it seemed a pretty straightforward concept. But to the world around you, thoughts like these made you feel ostracized, so you did what you thought was best and shoved them down into a dark part of your subconscious willing them to just disappear. One kiss from Ellaria though, had undone all of your careful repressive work and brought those feelings running to the surface like a siren breaking through the waters of the sea.

You groaned and smacked the pillow before sitting up in bed and shoving the hair from your eyes. Sleep wasn’t coming and the birds were already starting to stir outside the window of your bedchambers. You tied your hair back out of your eyes in a ribbon and pulled an old robe out of your trunk, slipping it around your shoulders. You touched the necklace that dangled between your breasts and took a deep breath before walking out into the hall.

The kitchen was already bustling with a few of the maids as they started to get breakfast ready for the guests of the castle. Fresh baked bread with freshly churned butter and clover honey sat on the table next to a plate of ham. You said good morning to one of the other ladies and sat down going straight for the fragrant bread and spreads.

“Good morning, (y/n).” One of the maids said as she sat a cup down in front of you. “Your uncle has already gone for a meeting with the other Lannisters. He didn’t want to wake you.”

You nodded but didn’t try to talk over your mouth full of food. It wasn’t like his daily agenda meant much to you, if he needed your help at the market he would have taken the time to wake you.

“He did ask if there was something you wanted to tell him?” She put her hands on her wide hips and raised a gray eyebrow.

“What?” You ask, swallowing rather hard.

“I’m guessing it has something to do with your new suitor!” She gestured over towards the window with a large, motherly smile on her face.

You follow her gaze and are glad you no longer had a mouth full of bread because you would have choked. In the window, already starting to turn towards the early morning sunrise, was a large ornate vase. The vase was filled with large orange and yellow tiger lilies, similar in color to the dress Ellaria had worn the day before–or colors that represented house Martell. You put down your breakfast and shoved the chair away from the table, quickly getting up to inspect them.

“Shit,” you breathed without thinking.

“Someone fancies you, dear,” the maid continued to smile as she laid down more dishes and silverware.

You were only half listening as a folded piece of paper caught your eye. In swirling script it simply read:

‘A conventional life is a boring life. – O & E’

You quickly stuffed the note in the pocket of your robe and picked up the vase, turning towards the stairs.

“Surely you’re not finished. You’ve barely touched your food.” The maid called after you as you started the climb back to your room.

“I’m not hungry. If he asks, tell my Uncle I’ll be home late.” You said over your shoulder as you slammed the door behind you. After setting the vase on your nightstand, you pulled the note out of your pocket and read it over again before getting dressed quickly.

–

By the time you were dressed and halfway to the brothel, the city was awake and thriving. Shops were open and people were milling about procuring items that they would need for the upcoming days. A light mist had fallen over most of the city and it was as if the sky could not decide if it wanted to rain or not. You rubbed your arms in your short-sleeved dress, missing the shawl that you were now certain you left in Oberyn’s Chambers in your haste to leave the day before.

The door to the brothel was locked when you tried to turn the handle, you hadn’t thought about it possibly being closed. When did brothels start doing daily business? Unsure of what else to do, you knocked timidly.

A robed woman, you would have bet money was wearing nothing underneath, answered the door, leaning on the archway. “Can I help you, sweet one?” She said, practically purring.

“I’m here to see Prince Oberyn,” you tried. “He’s–he’s expecting me.” It was only a half lie.

She looked down your body slow enough to make you want to turn away but then she nodded her head to gesture inside. “Upstairs.” She moved to the side to allow you to pass.

The door shut behind you and you headed for the stairs. The place was much quieter than it had been the day before, as most of its patrons were probably still in bed or just beginning to take breakfast. The thought made you pause outside the bedchamber you knew belonged to the prince. We’re they even awake? Fuck. You leaned your forehead against the wood of the door contemplating turning around and walking back to the castle. But something inside you said otherwise and before you lost what little courage you had, you knocked on the door.

“Enter,” a familiar, deep voice said and you did.

Oberyn was sitting up against the headboard, a book balanced in one hand, while the other stroked Ellaria’s dark hair as she slept on his bare chest. He peered over the book as you leaned against the door to close it behind you.

“(Y/n),” he said, unable to keep the surprise out of his voice as he put the book down. As he moved to sit up, Ellaria opened her eyes. She sat up with a look of shock equal to that of the prince, the movement causing the sheet to slip, revealing her naked breast.

“I’m sorry,” you started to look away but stopped yourself, remembering their lessons from the day before. “I don’t know why I’m here.”

They stayed quiet, as if worried whatever they said would scare you off. Taking a few steps towards the bed, you continued.

“I don’t know why I’m here or what I want.” You hugged your own arms as if trying to protect yourself from the raw feelings you were voicing. “But I know that you’re right. I can’t stay in King’s Landing. I can’t go back to Casterly Rock. I can’t be a merchant.” You took a deep breath and closed your eyes tightly forcing yourself to be honest. “No one has ever asked me what I want. Not until yesterday. Not until you.” You opened your eyes and looked at Ellaria. “I’m not saying yes to going to Dorne. But–I’m not saying no."

You looked between them both as you focused on the simple act of breathing normally. Here you stood, talking too much and looking like a ridiculous little girl. Surely they would rescind their offer now. Surely they would regret pursuing you like this after such an embarrassing outburst, but all they did was share a knowing smile before looking back to you.

“Say something, please.” You sighed and put a hand to your face, pinching the bridge of your nose.

"Did you get our gift?” Oberyn asked, simply.

You blinked slowly before nodding. “Y-yes. They’re lovely."

“They reminded us of you,” Ellaria said, grinning as she laid her head back on Oberyn’s chest.

“Stop,” you shook your head, feeling the heat rise to your face again, but you couldn’t help the smile that broke through your face.

Oberyn turned his head and pressed his lips to Ellaria’s hairline before sitting up. "I’ll have someone bring us up some breakfast.” As he threw his dark blue shawl around his shoulders from the day before, you were left alone with the woman you had spent the whole night dreaming about.

—

“So, I threw my dagger and pinned his hand to the wall.” Oberyn picked up a strawberry from the platter on the table and popped it into his mouth before, putting his hand against the wall like he was stuck to it.

“You didn’t,” you shook your head, smiling as Oberyn stood in front of you and Ellaria miming the perfect throw of a knife. He had been telling stories for the better part of the morning and you had been enjoying them immensely. He had a knack for it and an energy that made even the simplest of tales interesting.

“I absolutely did.” He insisted. “And it was even more impressive because he was a small man, with very small hands.” He waggled his large hand in the air as if to demonstrate.

“And you know what they say about small hands?” Ellaria said, finishing her wine and slinking off the couch towards the prince.

“What do they say about small hands?” You said, knowing perfectly well what the old adage was but wanting to hear her say it.

“Small hands means a small cock, my dear. So tell me,” she held up Oberyn’s hand and pressed hers to it, so they were palm to palm. His hand absolutely swallowed hers. “What does that say about our dear Prince’s hands?” She grinned and you blushed, looking back into your glass of wine.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled into your cup not knowing what else to say.

Oberyn started to lean down to capture Ellaria’s lips but she pulled away to keep her eyes on you. “By the gods, what are you sorry for?”

“It was forward of me, to–” you swallowed hard and forced yourself to meet her gaze. “To discuss such things.”

“Discuss what? The Prince’s cock?” she let the hard sound at the end of the word echo slightly in the back of her throat for emphasis. Oberyn smirked and intertwined his fingers with his paramour’s for a moment as he looked at you.

You shook your head and broke their gaze once again. Why was she doing this? Was it her personal goal to make you slide off of the couch into a puddle on the floor? Did you care?

Ellaria let go of Oberyn’s hand and grinned. “You are a sweet one.” She walked back over to the fainting couch the two of you were sharing and pulled her legs under her as she sat. “When you’re with us, you apologize to no one."

“But why?” you asked.

“Life is too short to feel ashamed about one of the greatest pleasures in it.” She tucked your hair behind your ear and continued, “Oberyn’s talked all morning. It’s your turn.”

“Me?”

“Excellent idea,” Oberyn said, kicking his feet up on the table and refilling his cup.

“But you already know so much about me,” you joked, remembering the information that Oberyn paid for.

“I don’t want to know things that are common knowledge,” Oberyn said. “We want the good parts.”

“I’m afraid none of it is very good.” You said, suddenly feeling self-conscious about your less than exciting life thus far.

“We’ll start easy,” Ellaria shared a nod with Oberyn. “Have you ever been with a man before?”

You choked into your goblet, feeling your eyes water as some of the wine went into your nose. Oberyn grinned so wide it was as if he were a child on his name day. He stroked his beard and kept his eyes on you as you cleared your throat and looked at Ellaria.

“That’s an easy question?”

“Of course,” she nodded. “The answer is a simple ‘yes’ or ‘no’. See? Easy.”

You looked at her with wide eyes but still smiled at her seemingly natural charm. “Fine. Yes.” Oberyn pulled his feet down off the table and leaned forward on his chair.

“Yes?” he asked, unable to mask his surprise…or perhaps it was delight.

“Yes,” you repeated. “It was a long time ago.”

“Well, that much is obvious.” Ellaria interrupted.

“You’re making fun of me,” you said and she put a hand to her chest in mock surprise.

“Of course I’m not,” she said, and looked at Oberyn. “Would I do such a thing?”

“Do not make me answer that,” he said smartly and looked back at you. “Continue, (y/n).”

You took a deep breath and set your cup on the table in favor of wringing your hands in your lap and not meeting either of their gaze. “It was a childhood infatuation. A stupid fantasy really.” You started and when neither one of them interrupted you, you continued. “My uncle didn’t think it was a good match–below the Lannister name.”

“But you didn’t think that,” Ellaria said, not as a question but more of a statement.

“No,” you shook her head. “He was kind. He listened to me. That alone was more important than his house.”

"Who was your father?” Oberyn raised an eyebrow and you rubbed your forehead.

“My father and Uncle are Joanna’s brothers.”

“Tywin’s deceased wife?”

“Yes. It gets messy when everyone seems to forget that Tywin is Joanna’s second cousin.” You felt embarrassed laying the family tree on the table, but everyone knew the Lannister obsession with keeping everything within the family.

“So, that make’s Tywin–” Ellaria prompted.

“Another uncle, by marriage?” You shook your head and looked exasperated. “I would need to draw it out.”

“What happened to your love from the Rock?” Oberyn asked, changing the subject.

“Right. I was young, and stupid, and we thought we were much sneakier than we actually were.” You swallowed hard and tried to keep your voice from wavering. “We went out to the woods for a midday–” you waved your hand in the air, fumbling for a word to use.

“Fuck,” Ellaria prompted.

“Yes, thank you–” you continued. “And my Uncle had someone follow us. And, on the advice of the almighty Tywin Lannister, had him arrested for rape.” You blinked rapidly and looked upwards refusing to let something you had worked so hard on repressing, surface in front of them. “The charges were dropped of course because it wasn’t true–but the embarrassment was enough to make him run for the hills.” You picked up your glass and took a rather large drink. “Because everyone knows when you fuck a Lannister, you fuck the whole family apparently–and no one wants to do that.” Your tone was bitter, but you couldn’t help it as you ran the cup in between your palms, feeling the weight of their gaze on you.

“It’s not your fault,” Ellaria said simply, moving to sit closer to you.

“I know that,” you said, still looking down at your glass.

“Do you?” she asked, raising an eyebrow and putting her finger under your chin to make you look at her.

Your eyes were burning with unshed tears but you stubbornly swallowed them along with the lump in your throat. “Then whose fault is it?”

“Tywin Lannister’s,” Oberyn said firmly, his tone containing a sharp bite.

“And your Uncle’s,” Ellaria nodded.

“Well,” you just shrugged lightly in agreement with them, not knowing what else to say. “Not only am I damaged goods–I’m damaged goods with a terrifying family.”

Oberyn got up, pushing his chair back so abruptly it scraped against the wooden floor, making you and Ellaria jump. He moved to the window of the room and leaned against it, looking out at the people below in silent thought. His shoulders moved slowly with a few deep breaths before he finally spoke, turning to look back at you, “The Lannister’s are not terrifying. They are not gods looking down on us from Casterly Rock–they bleed just like all other men.”

“Oberyn,” Ellaria said carefully.

He moved across the room and knelt down in front of you on one knee. “And you, my lioness,” he took your hand gently, giving you an opportunity to pull away if you wanted to. You didn’t. “Are not damaged goods,” he mumbled the words against your knuckles as he pressed his lips to your hand and gave you a small squeeze.

Ellaria balanced her chin in her hand and watched the two of you with a small smile. The gesture was so tender coming from a man you had heard so many stories about–and only just met for yourself the day before. It made your chest tight. It made your heart beat a little faster and see such an imposing figure in a new light.

“Your lioness?” you said, biting your lip and moving the topic to something lighter. You squeezed his hand and rubbed the pad of your thumb over his large fingers.

Oberyn froze, realizing that you heard exactly what he had said and chuckled. “My apologies.”

“Don’t apologize.” “Don’t apologize.”

Both you and Ellaria said the same thing at the same time and looked at each other before falling into a fit of laughter. Oberyn let go of your hand and rolled his eyes, standing up and moving back to his chair. “What have I gotten myself into?” he asked no one in particular as you and Ellaria continued to giggle.

It felt good to laugh. It felt good to talk to people who seemed interested in what you had to say and think. You felt as if a weight had been taken from your shoulders now that someone other than those responsible knew of the injustice of your past. It didn’t make it right. It didn’t make it better. It just made it…less.

[Next Chapter]

Taglist: @zeldadayer @halefirewarrior @earthtokace @tarrevizslas @1-800-fandomtrashqueen @readsalot73 @lackofhonor @shrew1999

#oberyn martell #prince oberyn #oberyn x ellaria #oberyn x reader #pedro pascal #pedro character fic #oberyn x ellaria x reader #game of thrones #got #Ellaria sand #oberyn martell x reader

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pseudofaux · 4 years

Note

so..... under Comte's MC worship piece you mentioned having some darker ideas for him....... i think it's only natural to ask if you'd ever expand on that at least a little?... 👀

I would and I will 😤😍, thank you so much for asking!

This is ALL GOING UNDER A CUT. If you, gentle reader, don’t like the idea of the ask for/featuring Comte, this post isn’t for you— so please don’t read it. Totally fine if this is not your cup of tea! It is mine. And under the cut is tea time. 😌

He wants her sparkling with life, and happy, and choosing to be with him, of course. But he would love to have stretches of time where she’s both pliant and reliant— he’ll want her submissive to his wishes... to do everything for her. Feed her, bathe her, cosset her, fuck her. Hard. So, so lovingly, but hard, hard enough that she’ll need rest and care afterward, and that is part of the thrill: he creates her pleasure and any resultant soreness or exhaustion, she trusts him to do that even though she knows she doesn’t know how big a trust that is, and then he’s further in charge of all the massaging and hydrating and sheet-changing and moon watching and everything else AFTER.

He’s not a creature that sweats much and he loves to sweat from the physical ways he fucks her whenever they get the chance: holding her bent atop dressers and desks, pinning her against a wall, holding her over the rail of a theater box all done in velvet and gold, standing up to his shoulders in a river or the great baths of the mansion and cupping his hands underneath her thighs while he keeps her naked body in the air like a dryad and licks into her, anywhere. Anywhere! He’s strong and never gets to showwwwww ittttttt. He’s got this thin, devestating edge of keenness inside himself to reveal his strength to her. His aim here is 500% caveman “I am no threat to you but I am Big Damn Threat to anyone who would ever even think about hurting you” display. Sometimes he sweats just from holding himself rigid for her to touch, and her cool, miraculous fingertips tracing his body with obvious wonder and appreciation make him so, so deliciously tense. But sweet gentleman Comte, he loves that pre-snap as much as the snap itself. 🥰 And he loves! loves! HER sweat. It’s not as though it smells sweet, it smells like sweat. And he loves it and it turns him on. Dirty from the garden = charming, him loves him wife, dirty and a bit sweaty from the garden = he’ll be escorting her to the bath. Now. Good DAY, Sebas. You’ve done well.

He wants her blissed out, fucked out, so lucid she loses all her manners and only has him in her eyes. That’s the intimacy he craves, that’s what he’s dying to see under the Christmas tree.

Speaking of Christmas!

He’s really dying to take her to a little country church, something homespun and humble and holy, and make love to her on a dark wood pew. He wants his hand over her mouth and her hand over mouth and he wants them to be so close to getting caught. He wants them stumbling out and giggling like young lovers and he wants her to fall asleep next to him in the carriage home.

Also speaking of Christmas: loves to see her in rich ribbons. Dark blue velveteen with gold edging is his favorite. If she’s game to present herself as a gift to him, he’ll unwrap her with an open glee he very rarely displays. He’s gotten her several ostrich-feather fans and will get her dozens more if he so much as catches her eyes on their boxes. The slow delight of her revealing herself with them is an unparalleled joy in his life.

He doesn’t like her tied up beyond the ribbons. He likes to be tied up himself. 😏 Lives for her circling a chair he sits in, there in their bedroom, and winding ropes or whathaveyou through the arms and legs and around the back to keep his body in place, all the while teasing him with loving touches and sensual offers. If he makes it through that heavenly torture, he sits tied to the chair while she spreads her legs and lets him watch her get off. If he slips out of the bonds or snaps them before she’s finished... she wins that way, too. 🤷🏻‍♀️ Has considered asking Sebastian or Leonardo to tie him to a chair for her to find, so it’s all set up and a nice surprise. Hasn’t done it but knows he won’t be able to resist the idea forever.

All of his cravings for her dependency, even the dark ones, come from the root of his desire to be worthy of her trust. He’s not too angsty about it once they make it official, but none of it is a desire to hurt or endanger her, only to care for her if she is ever imperiled. The closest he comes to that is edging and biting her, but he doesn’t enjoy edging for edging’s sake and would be Very Content to help her orgasm as frequently, blissfully, and quickly as possible. Draw out the lovemaking session, not the denial.

Oooooh, and he’s a talker, during! Of course! So smooth and polite about it, always so mannerly, which makes the crudeness really leap out. Calls her a naughty girl like he does in that hand-licking card (R.I.P. pseu), tells her that the squelch between her legs is magnificent and musical, very free with praise for how rapturously beautiful she is. Asks if she wants sachertorte or fraises avec crême pâtissière as dinner wraps up, and anyone else still at the table rolls their eyes or flees because that the offer is a coded proposition is so obvious, my god, these two, again?

The entire house ships it, it’s fine, also it is Comte’s house

Her moans thrill him, so he often echoes her. If she should call out something like “Oh, god, yes,” it will be hard for him not to do the exact same. The sounds she makes during sex make his dick throb. He’s really enjoyed sitting her on the edge of a high table and stepping between her thighs, feeding from the top curve of one of her breasts, and toying with her with both hands to get her making noise. One broad finger pressing a line down the small of her back, through the lady’s sweat beading there, and following her body between the cheeks of her ass, flirting with her rim for a long time (she clenches, it’s delightful, you can’t fault a man for pleasing his lover) before he makes true contact and she gasps. His favorite. One of many favorites.

He’s a handful man, not a pincher. He wants to have her full breast against his palm much more than he wants to tweak her nipples, and he loves to cup her cunt with his hand and stroke her slit with more than one finger. He’s all about wide, diffuse, overpowering sensations. He’ll grab (he loves to watch her skin pillow his fingers anywhere he can get it), he’ll hold, he’ll use his hold hand to grip. But he thinks of pinching as both too direct and punishing. He’s not a fan.

I could see (AND ENJOY) a Comte/MC/Leonardo triad, but personally I prefer to ship them with her individually. If it’s Comte/MC I’m convinced Comte would arrange for them to be fucking in places where Leonardo will know, at the time (by sound) or after the fact (stuff moved, a scent in the air). There’s no one else in the mansion on his level like Leonardo is, so a little bit of my dick is wetter showing off... is... gonna happen.

He would share her with Leonardo if they all wanted that, as a one-time or short term (what’s a few years of blissful threesomes between friends?) thing. I don’t think the Comte that loves MC pines for Leonardo romantically, but Leo’s understanding is the best non-malevolent way Comte is known, and there’s trust there. I also! think!!! that Comte respects Leonardo’s abilities and inclinations as a lover, so. 😏

He would drink from her until she was weak, 100%. Not every time! But would he do it? YES. Like so weak she needs to rest for a day or two. So weak she needs to rely on him and he can not only keep her in bed but satisfy all her needs, gently and attentively. It’s not about the ego of holding her life in his hands, it’s the opportunity to be the one who serves her so fully. He probably gets in some dumb, angsty tangles about not wanting to be the one to hurt her, but being deeply moved by the idea of caring for her if she were to be hurt, and not being willing to trust anyone else, ever, to hurt her for them. Ah, this goose, I fucking love himmmmmm

Comte has had a few torturous dreams of leaning her against the wall of a ruin, biting her somewhere high on her naked body, and then waiting for the blood to run down her form so he can lick it from her ankles. Her skin is so fragrant and her blood is so sweet... The way bites and blood flows work doesn’t even make the scenario possible, but the dream is deeply arousing. He is not, at all, into torturing her, but the dream is recurring and he doesn’t mind it as a fantasy. He’s got all sorts of ritualized ways to love her in mind.

He’s so in love with making love to her before they go out to plays and insisting she needs no blush or powder. He’s right, she can see it in the mirrors of their room. Keeps her color high with his hands up her skirts on the way to the theater. And at the theater, if she allows. If they see a tragedy performed he’ll be extra watchful for signs of any lingering distress on her part.

Cock warming’s not a bad idea, she is heaven incarnate, but what he really likes is to undo her with his fingers inside her body and then not take them out. If he’s wearing gloves the next morning before etiquette demands them, it’s because they’re still a bit wrinkled. 😌

Has her pose for as many classical portraits as she’s willing to endure. Touches her bare breast while the painter watches to tease all three of them. Sometimes he asks to be added to the painting. Usually not!

Happiness: a nice, wet, w i d e bite over her shoulder.

He doesn’t actually like biting her neck because he loves to kiss and nuzzle it so much, the fucking fool! 😂 He likes fleshier parts of her: the aforementioned shoulders, her instep, the curve of both her hips where they flare from the small of her waist. He’s also REAL fond of biting her on her mons and the sacred place where her bottom meets her legs. Goddddddddd. He thinks he’s a derrière man but it’s really THAT part, that hidden curve that is sometimes a crease. He’d live there if he could, and he spends many happy nights laying her out on their bed on her front, fingering her and nosing up the beloved heft of her ass so he can get his fangs into that special place on her body.

The fleshiness is partially for her comfort and partially a mouthfeel thing for him— it’s the best vampiric sensation for Comte when her blood wells over her skin in his mouth, when he can suck a mouthful of skin between the wounds he’s made.

WHEW okay that’s what I’ve got for now. Thank you so much for this ask. 😭😭😭🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️

* Sachertorte is him eating her ass while she grinds into a pillow, the strawberries would be making a slowwwwwww sash of exquisite bite marks across her back and licking each one... while she grinds into a pillow. Alfajores are her giving him a handjob while he propped over her on their bed, arms shaking because he’s not allowed to move until she says. Chouquettes are him giving himself a handjob and coming all over her breasts. Welfenspeise is ruining all the flowers in a particular part of the garden. Ciardunas...

#ikevamp comte #ikevam comte #ikevamp hc #ikevam hc #a++ aaviav #seriously thank you so much for this #pseu please... pick a direction #direction is... self-indulgence!#DADDY I LOVE HIM!!!!!! 😤

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auror-lovie · 4 years

Text

I Loved You, Mr. Scamander; Chapter 2

━━━•✦.✧. Author’s Note.✧.✦•━

Chapter 2 is O U T!

GOSH THE AMOUNT OF RESEARCH I DID JUST TO MAKE THIS CHAPTER.

Besides the point, I had a lot of fun doing the research. (Where was this version of me in high school-)

I hope you guys enjoy it! This chapter is a bit longer than I anticipated. It was a mix of research, personal experiences, and listening to the same song for hours-

You can find the playlist and the taglist form link in my bio! (Or you can just comment, send an ask, or PM- whichever feels comfortable)

━━━━━•✦.✧. Summary .✧.✦•━

After Hogwarts, (Y/N) and Victoria become the MOM’s Investigation Department’s secret weapon. While celebrating the completion of a recent case, she meets someone new. Who knew that this someone is related to her first love?

━━━━━•✦.✧. Add-Ons .✧.✦•━

A little back story of what happened during their last year at Hogwarts

Theseus~! ( Gosh, I hope I didn’t write him too out of character. Then again, in this chapter, he’s fresh out of WWI )

Victoria and (Y/N)’s friendship is solely based on the friendship I have with my fellow RavenPuff best friend. ( If she ever finds this fic, though I doubt it, I love you~! )

Fluff! (Hopefully)

Theseus and Reader being oblivious to these coincidences.

CLICHE ROMANCE STUFF. I’M A HOPELESS ROMANTIC, OKAY???

Hilarity ensues

Blood, but it’s a short scene

Slight angst at the end

━━━━━━•✦.✧.☾.✧.✦•━━━━━

Before Newt left, he promised to owl them. He was set on working for the Ministry to work with magical creatures in some way. Though his letters always came at odd hours- stupid time zones.

The day after Newt's expulsion, (Y/N) and Victoria had cut ties with Leta. They couldn’t trust her after what had happened. Despite all that, (Y/N) wished Leta the best in life.

For once the roles reversed, Victoria wanted to hex the hell out of Leta, but (Y/N) talked her out of it. Told her that it wasn’t worth it. Instead of spending all that energy on hating someone, it was better to wish them the best and let them go.

Sixth year had come to an end. On the day everyone was set to go back home for the summer holiday, Headmaster Dippet had summoned Victoria to his office.

“Headmaster Dippet,” She said as she stepped into his office. “What can I do for you?”

“You can take this, Miss Howard.” He replied, his hand gesturing to a small, yet elegant metal box that sat near her side of the desk.

Puzzled, Victoria walked closer. She hesitantly grabbed the box and opened it. On the small cushion, laid a navy blue pin, with the words HEAD GIRL in bronze.

“T-This is an honor, sir.” She stumbled, picking it up. It was funny how valuable a small badge would be. How much weight and responsibility it held while being almost as light as a feather.

“I want you to wear it on the first day back.” He gave a small smile.

“I understand, Professor. I can’t thank you enough-“

“Hush child. Come next year, you’ll curse me out for giving you the responsibilities.”

In their final year at Hogwarts, they made it their best year yet. They went to all the Quidditch games and Hogsmeade trips. They studied their hardest and gave it their all. When they graduated, they both got “Exceeds Expectations” and “Outstanding” in all the subjects needed to apply for the Auror Training Program. These subjects were Potions, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Herbology, and Charms.

~*~*~

Auror training required strenuous work to complete, but nothing they couldn’t handle. It was mandatory to undergo a rigorous series of character and aptitude tests. These tests showcased how well they reacted under pressure. They trained extensively in advanced magical combat, other elements of practical defense, and methods of criminal investigation.

Other training courses were Concealment and Disguise, Stealth and Tracking, Battle Instinct, Best-Laid Plans, Duelling in the Dark, Field Training, History of the Dark Arts, Method in the Mad-Eye, Resilience Training, and The Auror Advantage; while poisons and antidotes were also essential studies. Their training lasted for three years and was difficult work.

(Y/N) excelled in courses like Battle Instinct and Dueling in the Dark. Victoria showed her prowess in courses like Stealth and Tracking and Best-Laid Plans. Their personalities complimented each other. Apart, they had their successes, but together? They were a force not to be reckoned with. You’ve heard of power couples, but they were a powerful dynamic duo.

The Ministry of Magic in the Investigation Department is where they started. They were the department’s secret weapon. The only people who knew of them were those also in the Investigation Department. If they left the department due to any reason, they would be obliviated of their memory of (Y/N) and Victoria.

•✦.✧.🔎.✧.✦•

Another report was finalized and another dark wizard in Azkaban. In celebration, Victoria had convinced (Y/N) to go out to a pub with her. Coincidentally, the muggle world was celebrating a victory of their own.

At the pub, (Y/N) and Victoria was sitting at the bar, both on their second glass of Sidecar cocktail. Their work clothes were more wrinkled than usual as they relaxed on the stools.

The place was hot (despite it being winter), loud, and reeked of perfume and alcohol. People were celebrating the victory of “The War to End All Wars”. Men in uniforms were all around. Some were at home with loved ones. Others were kissing random strangers at the pub or hanging around with their mates. Then there were a couple of groups raising a glass to their fallen comrades.

“I’m headed to the restroom. You coming?” Victoria asked after finishing her glass.

(Y/N) swished her drink in her glass. “I’m good. I’ll wait here for you.”

Victoria nodded, “Alright, dear. Remember no boys, and if one won’t leave you alone- hex him or punch him.”

(Y/N) gave her a look.

Victoria laughed. “Be alert.” She said before leaving.

She nodded, “I will, Vi. I always am.” (Y/N) let out a sigh as she watched Victoria walk towards the restroom.

Her train of thought started with work but soon drifted to Newt. Over the years, she and Newt continued to stay in touch. Since she graduated, Newt had served on the Eastern Front- not in the war, no. He was there to wrangle some Ukrainian Ironbellys. That year, Augustus Worme commissioned him to write a book about magical creatures.

“Of course he took the job. It’s the perfect job for him…” She mumbled before taking another sip.

If there was anything (Y/N) wanted to do right now, it would be to go home. Being at a pub wasn’t her thing- neither was it Victoria’s, but she let it slide this time. ‘To whatever God or higher celestial being up there, please keep Newt safe.’ She thought, staring at the remaining liquid.

“Hey, what’s a pretty little lady like you doing in a place like this all by herself?” A male voice cooed as he sat on the barstool to her left.

Snapping out of her thoughts, (Y/N) turned to face a man in uniform. He had short blonde hair (but if it were any longer, it would break regulation) and light brown eyes. Attractive? Yes. Her type? Definitely not.

“I’m not here by myself,” (Y/N) eyed the single chevron patch sewn on the upper half of his uniform’s sleeve. “-Private.” She said before meeting his gaze. “I’m here with a friend.”

“Private Keaton Williams.” He said as he took one of her hands in his, bringing it up to kiss her knuckles.

‘Merlin’s beard. Where’s Victoria?’ She thought as she saw the satisfaction on his face. (Y/N) slowly retracted her hand, holding it close to her chest.

“Thank you, Private- er, Williams. But I should be looking for my friend.” She said, getting ready to stand.

He held onto her wrist, preventing her from leaving. “Come on. We both know it’s a lie. You’re not really here with anyone.” Keaton teased.

She tried to think of a way to turn him down. She couldn’t hex him- he was a muggle. There were rules about using magic in the presence of muggles! And she couldn’t punch him. How could she punch a man who had fought for the country she called home?

“She’s with me.” said another male’s voice. This time, it came from behind her.

Keaton looked past (Y/N) to see another man in uniform. “Oh wow. I’m another bloke in a uniform. What makes you so special?” He mocked.

“I don’t condone men flaunting their uniform as a way to catch a woman’s heart.” The one behind her replied. “I’ve dealt with idiots like him. Play along.” He whispered in her ear. (Y/N) nodded, before taking back her wrist.

“I know how to get what I want 's all,” Keaton boasted, then turned his attention back to (Y/N). “Let’s go, love. Let this soldier show you a good time.”

(Y/N) turned to get a look at her savior. Oh great. Yet she stared for a second longer- he looked so familiar.

Shaking her head from her thoughts, she leaned into his chest. “I’m sorry, Private Williams. You had no chance from the start. This soldier had already caught my attention.”

The man looked shocked for a split second before playing along with her little skit. “Ah yes. I’m glad I was able to return home to the love of my life all in one piece.” He said before wrapping an arm around (Y/N)’s shoulder.

She blushed. ‘Love of his life? No- stop it. It’s a ruse.’

Keaton looked at the other, eyeing his rank. “What’s a Sergeant got that I don’t?”

The man shifted, a crimson ribbon pinned to the pocket flap of his left breast pocket revealing itself. “I have the right mind to back off when a woman says no.”

Keaton looked again, seeing the ribbon, and gasped. The Victoria Cross Award. “Y-You’re him. T-That Theseus guy… The War Hero.”

Theseus. The name of her saviour was revealed!

Theseus rolled his eyes. “It’s Sergeant to you. Now scram before I report you to your commanding officer.”

“Y-Yes Sergeant,” Keaton said before walking away from the pair.

(Y/N) let out a sigh of relief as she relaxed her shoulders. “Thank you… Theseus, was it?”

Theseus hummed in agreement, removing his arm from her shoulder. “It’s no problem…” He trailed off, running his hand through his hair.

She turned in her chair to face him. His hair now slightly messed up due to his recent action. His uniform suited him- good and squared away. But his face. It was so damn familiar. It was as if she’d seen those blue eyes somewhere before.

“Uh… Like what you see?” Theseus joked.

(Y/N) blushed. “I-I didn’t mean to stare…” A small pause before sticking her hand out, “I’m (Y/N).”

Theseus gently took her hand, bringing it to his lips, and placed a gentle kiss on her knuckles. “Theseus. Charmed to meet you.”

‘Did… Did he just…?’ (Y/N) giggled, taking her hand back and interlocking her fingers together. “So what’s a wizard like you serving in the military?”

He sighed, sitting on the seat that was once Victoria’s, “The military part was a cover-up to get me on the front lines. Even if the muggles were at war, that didn’t mean dark wizards would stop their heinous crimes. I was working double time. A field agent for the Ministry and a Sergeant for the British Armed Forces.”

(Y/N) nodded. “Thank you for your service… For our world and theirs.” She smiled at him.

The silence was deafening between them, but it wasn’t awkward in any way. It was more comforting.

(Y/N) brought herself to look at his eyes again, her pupils dilating. His eyes made her heart swell with love- the type of love she reserved only for Newt. Though, she couldn’t help but spill a little bit of that to Theseus. Love at first sight?

Theseus returned the smile. How could someone, let alone a stranger he met, be this beautiful? His mind drifted to a small montage of made-up scenarios. He could see a growing relationship with her- a family even. Would his mother approve? Would Newt approve? She’d make a great addition to the Scamander family.

“Sorry I took too long. Ready to- Merlin, (Y/N)! I leave for five minutes!” Victoria’s voice yelled from behind Theseus.

“Sorry about that.” (Y/N) mumbled.

He turned in his seat to face Victoria. “I-I’m sure you’d like an explanation, but first, hello.” He stuttered.

(Y/N) emerged from behind him, walking over to her friend. “Vi! This is Theseus. Theseus this is my best friend, Victoria.”

‘He looks so familiar. I’ve seen his face somewhere before.’ Victoria thought.

•✦.✧.🔎.✧.✦•

On Theseus and (Y/N)’s first date, they went to a coffee shop.

“So you’re part of the law enforcement? Are you sure you retired from your military work?” She joked.

Theseus chuckled softly before sipping on his tea- he was never a coffee person. “First, yes. I’m retired. And yes, I work within law enforcement. I’m what you call “well respected”. And what about you, love?”

She blushed. “I work in the field then do some paperwork. That’s all. Nothing that special.”

“Hm…” He thought for a moment before an idea popped into his head. “Ever thought about working for the Ministry? They could use a couple of recruits in the Auror Department. I’m sure Victoria would join as well. Training is only about three years and with your skills, I’m sure you two would be a great Aurors.”

(Y/N) smiled before sipping on her cup of coffee. ‘Only if you knew…’

~*~*~

For their next date, they went out for a walk in the park. It was cold out, so they wore their long coats and their house scarves.

“No way! You were a Hufflepuff? I thought you were a Gryffindor!” (Y/N) exclaimed as he neared their meeting spot.

Theseus smiled, “Well, hello to you too.” He then stood in front of her, ruffling her hair. “Well then, Little Miss Ravenclaw, aren’t you full of surprises?” He teased.

She huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. “What house did you think I was in…?”

He gestured to his Hufflepuff scarf.

“If the Sorting Hat sorted me again, I’m pretty sure I’d be in Hufflepuff. If Victoria got sorted again… She’d definitely be a Slytherin.”

“Then again, you’re the feistiest Ravenclaw I’ve ever met.” Theseus teased, poking her cheek softly.

(Y/N) swatted his hand away from her face, “W-Well you’re the cockiest Hufflepuff I’ve ever met.

~*~*~

The third time they went out, they went to a fancy restaurant.

“Theseus… Where are we going?” She asked as they walked hand in hand.

“Somewhere special. I’ve been dying to take you out here for months.”

“Oh?” She asked. “What did I do to deserve this?”

He smiled as they turned the corner. “Ah, here we are!”

(Y/N) looked at the building and gasped. “Theseus… The Ritz?! This must've cost you a fortune!”

He kissed her cheek, “Anything for you.”

~*~*~

Then came their fourth date. Theseus had decided on that night, he’d make their relationship official. He would’ve done it sooner, but he’d only met her a year ago. He wanted time to get to know her and make sure it wasn’t an impulse decision. To his surprise, she agreed. So after a year-long wait, he took his chance. Nothing to lose… right?

After dinner, they decided to take a walk in the park. A last-minute plan she was not dressed for.

“You know, despite its kleptomania for shiny things, I always wanted a Niffler. They’re such interesting creatures.” She admitted.

Theseus chuckled- a sound that was now music to (Y/N)’s ears. “You sound like my brother. He’s into all that care of magical creatures stuff. Me? Not so much.”

She hummed, “I’d like to meet your brother sometime…”

“I’ll set up a date for all us to have tea when he comes back from his travels.”

“C-Can’t wait!” She stuttered as she rubbed her upper arms for warmth.

He noticed this and nonchalantly removed his coat. He draped it over her shoulders, “Sorry. It’s my fault you’re cold.”

She held the lapels of his coat, “But now you’ll get cold!”

“It looks better on you than it did me.” He gave her a playful wink.

(Y/N) gasped as she remembered a moment like that. All those years ago at Hogwarts- with Newt. Though she dismissed the thoughts of her first love. Newt wasn’t there with her. Theseus was. Newt hadn’t taken her out on those wonderful dates. Theseus had. Newt didn’t love her. Theseus did- or so she hoped.

Theseus had stopped them in front of a water fountain. The sound of trickling water and the echoes of the city filled the silence. He shoved his hands into his pockets. Were his hands always this sweaty? He took a deep breath and exhaled. It was now or never.

“Theseus, darling, A-Are you alright?” She asked, one of her hands cupping his cheek.

He hummed and leaned into her touch. Despite the cold, her hand was radiating so much warmth. He looked at her lovingly, “Yes, dear. Everything is fine.”

“(Y/N)… During my Hogwarts years, I never gave dating a second thought. And after I graduated, I immediately started working for the Ministry. Then I got sent to war. Merlin- I never want to step foot in a muggle war ever again.” He paused to make sure she was paying attention.

Her hand returned to the warmth of his coat. She nodded, giving him the okay to continue.

“And when I returned home, I was so set on returning to my duties at the Ministry. Then I met you. You wonderful, beautiful, intelligent woman. I couldn’t believe that I caught your attention. I know I��m rambling and your feet must be in pain for standing for so long, so let me ask you this.” He paused for a second. “Will you allow me to date you properly? To make this- us, official?”

(Y/N) smiled. “Theseus… I never thought you’d ask. I’d love to be your girlfriend.”

Full of joy, Theseus wrapped his arms around her and spun around. Their laughs mixed, composing a duet that harmonized with each other perfectly.

When he set her down, she sighed in content. “Oh, Theseus…”

He cupped her face, his thumb caressing her cheek. “Can… Can I kiss you?”

She nodded. “Yes-”

He cut her response short, closing the gap between their lips.

•✦.✧.🔎.✧.✦•

The New Year’s season came to pass and it was the start of the 1920s. Victoria and (Y/N) transferred to the Aurors Department. Effective immediately. They loved the Investigation Department and everyone there. Must've been something serious if their transfer was immediate.

Little did they know, Theseus was the Head of the Auror department.

On the way to the meeting room, (Y/N) was ranting about the sudden change. Victoria was saying her thoughts about the matter but listened to her friend’s distress. They walked past an office and Victoria caught the nameplate on the door that read “Theseus Scamander”

Scamander? Oh-

Before Victoria could ask questions, they had gotten to the meeting room. There were other Aurors in the department. Everyone there knew each other, so Victoria and (Y/N) were the “newbies”.

Victoria turned to (Y/N), “Hey… You know that boyfriend of yours, did you by any chance get his last name?” She whispered.

(Y/N) shrugged, “No. I didn’t think it mattered.”

“Well, let me tell you-”

The Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, Torquil Travers, entered the room from the back entrance. “Fellow Aurors! As you all know, Grindelwald is gathering up recruits for his “For the Greater Good” revolution. All of you are here today to form up a special task force in bringing him and his organization down. Leading you in this endeavor is the new Head of Auror Office and retired War Hero, Theseus Scamander.”

A round of applause erupted, welcoming the new Head of Auror Office.

Turning towards Travers, Victoria clapped along. “I’m sure it’s not your Theseus-”

“Oh shit.” (Y/N) cursed as she saw her beloved walk through the doors.

Theseus nodded as he walked towards his new task force.

Travers patted his back, “You’ll need to choose an assistant and a communications liaison, but take your time.”

Theseus scanned the room. He knew all of the people, some he trusted, and some he didn’t. Then he saw a pair he knew all too well- but he only saw them outside of work- (Y/N) and Victoria.

(Y/N) gave a shy smile, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear.

Victoria smirked, “You’re screwed.”

As the applause died down, Theseus announced, “I’ve already chosen the people for the positions. For my assistant, I’ll be having Miss (Y/N) (L/N).”

She blushed as she felt everyone’s eyes on her. Though slightly confused, the other Aurors in the room applauded.

Victoria leaned down again, “Try not to make too much noise in his office, eh?”

(Y/N) opened her mouth to gasp, but nothing came out. “I would never!”

“And my Communications Liaison will be Miss Victoria Howard.”

(Y/N) nudged her friend, “You’re stuck with us now.”

Victoria laughed nervously, waving at everyone. “Brilliant…”

~*~*~

The three of them were in Theseus’ office. (Y/N) was pacing back and forth as Theseus was sitting at his desk and Victoria leaning against the bookshelf.

“Why me? Why another Scamander?” She groaned in agony. “How did I not know!” She muttered.

“Love, what’s the problem?” Theseus asked, slightly worried.

“You wouldn’t by any chance have a brother would you?” Victoria asked, looking at him.

“Yeah.” He replied, his attention still towards (Y/N), who was still pacing back and forth.

“About this tall?” She said, extending her arm to its highest point.

“Around there.”

“Loves magical creatures?” She asked, now crossing her arms over her chest.

“More than life itself.”

“Got expelled from Hogwarts in his sixth year?”

“Yes. Wait, how did you-”

“I figured.” She gave a curt nod before looking at her distressed friend. “Honey, you need to calm down.”

(Y/N) stopped in her tracks and faced Victoria. Her eyes were on the verge of tears.

Victoria's expression softened as she shoved aside the blunt responses she had prepared in her mind. “Hey… Come here…” She cooed as she walked over to her with arms wide open.

(Y/N) quickly ran into Victoria’s embrace, letting the tears fall. She mumbled something into her shoulder.

“What was that, dear?” She asked softly.

(Y/N) pulled away, “I said, what am I going to tell Newt? I’ve told him that I recently got a boyfriend. How is he going to react when it’s his brother?”

Victoria rolled her eyes. “What’s it to him? He’s your best friend.” She said, emphasizing the fact that Newt was just her friend. “If it’s his brother or not, who you date is not his business.”

Theseus stood from his seat and walked over to the pair. “If it makes you feel better, we can invite him over for tea and tell him.”

(Y/N) moves from Victoria’s arms and walks over to Theseus. “I… I think I’d like that.”

•✦.✧.🔎.✧.✦•

Despite Theseus and (Y/N)’s relationship, they never let it get in the way of their work. (Y/N) had the same workload and deadlines as the others in the task force.

Victoria was still expected to represent the Ministry’s Auror department, write news releases, and coordinate the distribution of information along with her fieldwork.

Theseus randomly assigned partners in every stakeout or raid- mostly because he’d feel like he’d protect the hell out of (Y/N) if she was paired up with him all the time. (Y/N) was capable, and he knew that.

Though there are sometimes where one of them got hurt and the other can’t help but care for them.

(Y/N) had made Theseus take off his blazer and rolled up the sleeve of his left arm. Blood dripped from the wound caused by one of Grindelwald’s recruits. She sat on a short stool with a bucket of warm water off to the side, just within arms reach.

Theseus slouched in the chair, flinching at the slightest touches (Y/N) made with the towel. She had wiped off all the dried blood surrounding the wound. Then she started dabbing the towel ever so gently on top of it. The towel was damp and warm, but it didn’t make the pain any softer.

He grimaced as he inhaled sharply, jerking his arm away from her.

“I need to clean your wound, love” (Y/N) said, reaching over to where he moved his arm.

“But (Y/N) it hurts!” He whined.

“You’re being childish.” She replied.

“W-Well you’re not the one on the receiving end!”

“Honey, you were a soldier. I’m sure you’ve dealt with more serious wounds than this…”

“That’s because I didn’t have someone as cute as you cleaning me up.”

“Flattery won’t get your wound cleaned up.”

“Can’t you just use a spell?”

“Unlike most wizards, I like to do some things without the use of magic.”

He huffed childishly, not looking at her.

“If you didn’t move, it wouldn’t hurt as much.”

Theseus grumbled, still moving his arm away.

“Theseus Scamander, hold still or so help me I will hex you!”

“I thought we didn’t allow magic in the bedroom~” He teased.

“Theseus! We’re at work!”

•✦.✧.🔎.✧.✦•

After months of asking and asking, Theseus had finally convinced Newt to come and visit him- to finally meet his girlfriend. (Y/N) had already decided on the tea so they were waiting for Newt to arrive.

As they waited, Theseus was looking over some reports as (Y/N) was leaning on his bookshelf, doing some light reading.

He sighed, setting the papers in his hand back down on his desk. Glancing over to (Y/N), he smiled, ‘She’s beautiful even when she’s reading…’

Theseus looked at her ensemble. A white long-sleeved button-up, a grey vest with a matching blazer, and dress pants. He looked at his suit- the same color scheme. Were they always matching?

He looked at her again and noticed that this time, she wore a tie with her suit, but not just any tie. A yellow and black tie- His Hufflepuff tie. Theseus smiled, “Hey (L/N), nice tie.”

(Y/N) nodded, turning the page of her book. “Yeah? I put it on this morning.” She said nonchalantly.

Theseus stood and made his way over. When he stood in front of her, he took the book from her hands and set it to the side. “Where’d you get it?”

She looked up at him. Was he always this tall? “Hogwarts. From when I went there. Duh.”

“Really? Because I remember you telling me that you were a Ravenclaw,” He said untucking the tie from under her vest. “This is clearly a Hufflepuff tie.” He held up the end of the tie in her line of view.

(Y/N) gasped. “I swear, it was an honest mistake!”

“Hmm…” He trailed off. “I kind of like seeing you in my ties. It’s cute.” He said, leaning in close.

“Thes… We’re at work… A-And your brother could walk in any minute-”

His fingers slid up the material, finally wrapping around the knot. “Yeah… But I haven’t kissed you since we left my flat…” He whispered, tugging softly as if to bring her closer.

She could feel herself leaning in close. Her lip mere millimeters away-

“Here we are! Head of Aurors Office!” Victoria said, opening the door to Theseus’ office. She and Newt walked in.

(Y/N) quickly pushed Theseus away, shoving the tie back under her vest.

“Newt!” (Y/N) exclaimed, shoving herself off the bookshelf.

“Brother!” Theseus said happily as he walked over to Newt.

There, Newt stood in a nice suit, a mustard yellow vest, and a blue overcoat. In his hand was a suitcase. The enchanted suitcase that (Y/N) had read so much about in his letters.

“Wait, when you told me in your letter that you had a boyfriend, you never told me it was my brother,” Newt said, slightly hurt.

“We meant to tell you!” Theseus said defensively.

“When? When I catch you almost snogging each other?” Newt retorted, glaring at his brother

“No! It would be over tea! Which we would be having right now…” She pouted.

“I think… I think I’d like a rain check on that…” He said as he started to back away.

“Newt! Don’t do this!” Victoria pleaded.

He finally turned around and walked to the door. When he got there, he stopped in Victoria’s line of view. Newt didn’t face her. He looked straight ahead, grip tightening on the handle of his case. “You knew and didn’t tell me?” Newt asked bitterly.

Victoria placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. She opened her mouth to say something and for once, she didn’t have a blunt response or snarky remark. “It wasn’t my position to say…”

Newt scoffed. “It would’ve been nice to know beforehand,” He said before shoving her hand off and walking away from Theseus’ office. Away from his brother. Away from his friend. Away from her. Newt hadn’t seen then in so long and now that he had the chance… He just left…?

(Y/N) quickly ran after him, “Newt, wait!”

Victoria leaned against the door frame, banging the back of her head against the wood. “It’s always a Scamander…”

Theseus looked at Victoria. “Did… Did they have something?”

Victoria sighed, stopping from her current action to look at Theseus. “It’s not my position to say…”

~*~*~

In the hallway, (Y/N) finally caught up to Newt. She held onto the material of his sleeve.

“Back there,” She panted. “What was that about?”

“You… You’re dating my brother?” He asked. Stupid question, but he needed to hear it again to make sure he wasn’t imagining it.

“Yeah, what’s it to you?” (Y/N) said, but her tone made it sound rude.

“Didn’t think he’d be your type…” Newt mumbled.

“And you know what my type is?” She replied, slightly offended.

“I…” Newt paused. ‘I was hoping that it’d be me.’ He thought.

(Y/N) sighed, finally letting go of his sleeve. “Look, you’re my best friend and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I’ll admit that it was my fault, but I don’t want to lose you just because I’m dating your brother. I-”

“What?” Newt interrupted. “One Scamander isn’t enough? You need both of us in your life, do you? Why do you need me? You already have Theseus wrapped around your fingers.” He snapped.

“What is up with you, Newton?” She groaned in frustration. “You know what? Now is not the time. I’ll give you all the time and space you need. When you’re ready to talk about this, I’m only an owl away.” She turned to leave, but not before saying something that made Newt realize how he felt about his best friend.

“Just know that before Theseus,” She paused. “It was always you.”

#fbawtft #fbtcog #theseus scamander x reader #theseus scamander #fantastic beasts fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #Series: ILYMS

87 notes · View notes

dweetwise · 4 years

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yes hello i am back on my bullshit again, presenting you yet another felix x ace! (also i’m taking the creative liberty to call the ship riconti because it sounds like a cheese or something and i found it funny) anyways, this one is just me thirsting over the oktoberfest skin through ace, ft. some suggestive language but no nsfw!

word count: 2781

Felix X Ace: Clothes make the man

The whole thing starts as an offhand comment.

"—I mean, it's clearly tailored. He pulls it off,” Ace is telling Meg, who has been complaining about Felix's stuffy suit and even stuffier attitude for five minutes straight. “But it's so impractical!” the girl argues. “Wasn't he on some kind of field trip when he was taken? What kind of guy wears a suit to that?” “I don't know, but I'm not going to complain about free eye candy,” Ace smirks, and Meg rolls her eyes. “Oh yeah, I forgot rich snobs are your thing. Sucks you can't scam him for his money in here,” Meg snarks. “Excuse me for having taste,” Ace shoots back. “I wish I had a suit like that. Do you think it's Gucci?” “Burberry,” an increasingly familiar voice answers from behind him and Meg whips her head around to look at its owner, eyes wide in shock at having been caught gossiping. Meanwhile Ace, liking to think he has more self-control, schools his face into a pleasant smile and slowly turns around to face Felix. “Would have been my next guess,” Ace says, trying not to let it show that he's mentally slapping himself for essentially thirsting over Felix when the other was within earshot. “I like the cut. You've got good taste.”

He’s feebly trying to save some of his wounded ego, but probably ends up laying it on too thick. Felix fidgets a little, maybe not used to getting compliments, before he seems to catch himself. He meets Ace's eyes and the hint of a smirk tugs on his lip.

“Wish I could say the same,” Felix says, pointedly looking at Ace's flamingo sweater, before turning around and walking away and leaving Ace to gape at the unexpected sass from the normally serious man. “I take it back, I like him!” Meg snickers beside him.

The Entity seems to share Ace's enthusiasm for Felix's fashion sense, and only a few trials in Felix is already in a different suit, this one a grey plaid.

“Hmm…” Ace pretends to mull over when they're working on a generator together. “Did you see something?” Felix asks, hurriedly glancing over the top of the machine to try, in vain, to spot the killer. “I think the navy blue suits you better,” Ace smirks at his own pun. “Though the plaid certainly makes a statement. Shame that statement is ‘I'm a grandpa at thirty years old’.” “You know, in my job, gold is really only used for trims. Any more than that is just tacky," Felix deadpans, not even sparing a glance at Ace's obnoxiously golden silk outfit. “And it's thirty-eight.”

Ace doesn't bother suppressing his grin over the fact that Felix seems happy to go along with his silly banter.

It becomes sort of an inside joke between them, and when Felix shows up to the campfire in a porn stache and driving gloves, Ace chokes on a laugh.

“I’m sorry, is this an 80's theme party?” Ace jokes. “Careful you don't end up on a propaganda poster with a stache like that.” “Why are you wearing an eye patch?” Felix immediately shoots back. “Is this the 16th century? Should we break out the rum and set sail?”

Ace hears Quentin snort beside him.

“It's a pilot outfit,” Ace argues, pulling his jacket with the pin-up print tighter against himself defensively. “No, mine is a pilot outfit,” Felix deadpans, and Ace can't really argue, not when the other is wearing a bomber jacket and pilot glasses and leather gloves. “Yours is a blind truck driver.”

Bill coughs out something akin to a laugh on the other side of camp and Ace bites his lip to stop himself from doing the same.

“Can I borrow the shades some time?” Ace forfeits the argument, and Felix smiles just the tiniest bit. “Sure.”

And Felix actually follows through with the promise, switching sunglasses with him when Ace later complains his own don’t go with his outfit. It’s a pretty cute gesture, like they were close friends or even a couple, and when Felix snorts and tells him he looks ridiculous it just serves to make Ace smile brighter.

It’s not like the exchange or the ones before it mean anything, it’s just harmless joking with the occasional flirt. Ace still thinks Felix is attractive, but he doesn’t have any illusions that the man would be into him like that, with what having a girlfriend and unborn baby back home, not to mention Ace having a good ten years on him in age. Still, he appreciates that Felix goes along with his cheeky comments, at least not grossed out by or taking offense to Ace’s flirting.

He only gets to keep the shades for one trial, because the Entity has blessed Felix with another outfit for Ace to offer his unsolicited opinion on.

“Oh my god,” Ace comments when he spots the horrendous, grease-streaked mop in place of Felix’s normally expertly styled hair. “Are you a closet hipster? Is an avocado smoothie going to fall out of the hat?” he quips, eyeing the fedora that is, in Ace’s humble opinion, vastly inferior to all of his own hats. “I needed a disguise to lay low for a while, and what better way to hide in plain sight in a big city?” Felix defends his unkempt hair and dirty t-shirt. “What’s your excuse?” he shoots back.

Ace glances down at his generously open shirt—gold again, just to annoy Felix—and tacky sequin pants.

“Vegas, baby,” Ace grins. “If you’d ever been, you’d know.” “I’ve never been happier to say I haven’t,” Felix chuckles. “I don’t think I could handle more of… whatever this is,” he says, gesturing to Ace’s outfit. “When we get out of here, I’m definitely taking you,” Ace quips. “I just want to see you cry over all the flashy satin and fake gold.”

Felix doesn’t roll his eyes or make a sarcastic comment like Ace expects. Instead, he stares blankly in confusion for a few seconds, before his expression settles into a smile Ace can’t quite place.

“Alright,” Felix simply says, and combined with the soft smile it’s enough to make Ace nervously look around camp for a distraction. “Hey, Kate!” he hollers, spotting the songstress braiding Meg’s hair. “You got a hairband for our friend and his questionable hair style over there?”

He ends up regretting the question as soon as Kate insists on braiding Felix’s hair and the normally standoffish man, somehow, goes along with it. He can’t believe he’s jealous for someone getting to touch the grimy, unkempt strands, and it sure as hell doesn’t help that Felix seems to like it. Kate looks thrilled to get to spend some quality time with the man, chatting about this and that and taking way longer than necessary to make the hairstyle, and Ace ends up walking away and pestering Dwight to play some cards with him so he can at least win at something.

His win streak over the poor boy is interrupted when Felix later sits down with them, gesturing for Ace to deal him in, and Ace can’t quite hide his pleased grin that Felix would rather spend time with him than the beautiful girl who just played with his hair for half an hour.

“Better?” Felix asks him, turning his head to display the most pathetic French braid Ace has ever seen, ending in a ponytail that’s barely an inch in length. “Much better,” Ace says, definitely referring to the company and not the state of his hair, and even the normally diplomatic Dwight gives him a weird glance over his cards after taking in Kate’s handiwork.

Only a few trials after the incident, Ace has the pleasure of spawning together with Felix in one of the Yamaoka maps. When he sees a horrendous checkered pattern from the corner of his eye, he knows he’s in for a treat.

He quickly turns to face the man, nearly tripping over some shrubbery as the Entity decided to place him in some inconvenient bamboo. He meets Felix's eye, opening his mouth to start a snarky comment, when his thoughts come to a complete halt upon seeing the entirety of the outfit.

“Well? Get it over with,” Felix demands, crossing his arms self-consciously and—lord have mercy—blushing a little.

Ace's brain is reduced to white noise in the equivalent of ‘hhhHhhHHhh’ while he just stands there, feet still in the stupid bamboo, and stares.

Felix's hair is now an impeccable undercut, a few loose strands framing his features beautifully, and the perfectly trimmed stubble adds a rugged charm to his handsome face. The vest is stylish, a navy blue similar to the suit Ace likes, and the checkered shirt shouldn't work with it but it does, and there's even a matching handkerchief in his breast pocket. Ace's horny brain immediately goes to hanky code and shut up brain it's in the wrong pocket—

Ace mentally shakes his head and looks at Felix's pants instead. And that was a bad idea, because he’s wearing fucking. Leather. Pants.

Again, it should look ridiculous, but Ace feels himself start salivating at the idea of them hugging Felix's ass—ugh, focus!

The pants have small ribbons on the sides and the entire ensemble is so goddamn adorable and sexy that he can't even deal. And Ace has seen a lot of handsome men during his life, mostly in the mirror, but right now, Felix takes the cake.

Felix's attitude shifts from embarrassed to curious when Ace isn't immediately opening his big mouth like usual.

“If this is how all Germans dress, it’s a tragedy I’ve never been,” Ace flirts, his dick having taken over his brain and his mouth running on autopilot.

Instead of insulting Ace's panama hat and favorite pink shirt, Felix clears his throat and averts his eyes.

“You don't look too bad yourself,” Felix mutters, cheeks heating up again as he twiddles with the cuff of his shirt.

Ace idly wonders if the bamboo bush is big enough for them to make out in without being spotted—brain, focus! The guy is just being polite, no need to jump his bones!

They've got the usual back-and-forth out of the way, but Felix still isn't moving to start the trial, regarding Ace warily and fidgeting, and he's just so fucking hot—ugh, he needs to say something, doesn't he?

“God, the things I'd let you do to me," Ace thinks while he says ‘We should find a generator’ because he's not going to creep Felix out any further—

Felix chokes on nothing and his face flushes bright red, and Ace belatedly realizes his brain got its wires crossed and he definitely said the first bit out loud. Shit, that was definitely out of line, and if Felix hasn’t been offended before he sure as hell should be now.

There’s a screech from his left and Ace has never been so glad to take a bonesaw to the shoulder as when the Nurse teleports next to him and interrupts their awkward conversation, Ace finally running out of the goddamn shrubbery while clutching his injured shoulder. Strangely enough, the Nurse doesn’t follow him as he runs up to the temple, and soon after he hears Felix yelp instead, the killer chasing him around the shack.

Damn, now he somehow needs to make it up to Felix both to apologize for his foot-in-mouth syndrome and for him taking the Nurse off Ace’s back.

Unfortunately for them, the Nurse isn't playing around this match, and when she returns to tunnel Felix right off the hook, Ace barely even gets the chance to yell out a “Move!” and throw himself in the way of the attack, much less talk to him about what happened earlier.

Soon Ace is walking back into camp, the second to last to have been sacrificed, only Claudette remaining in the trial and trying to find the hatch. He's already prepared an apology, and hopefully he'll be able to joke it off and Felix won't be weirded out by him. Well, at least not more than usual.

But then he spots Felix talking to Dwight by the edge of the camp, and Dwight freezes mid-conversation upon seeing Ace, before his face twists into a—smirk? Since when has Dwight smirked?—and he says something to Felix before taking off, walking over to where Steve and Ash look to be engaged in a game of tic-tac-toe.

Ace doesn't even have time to ponder why Dwight suddenly seems like he knows way too much, because Felix is approaching him and he knows this is a make or break it situation.

“Dwight seemed awfully smug, huh?” Ace jokes to buy himself some time after his carefully crafted apology flies out the window when he sees Felix’s serious expression. “We need to talk,” Felix says, looking and sounding every bit the stern businessman Meg thinks he is. “Yeah, alright,” Ace agrees and tries not to deflate too much upon essentially being shut down before he can even try to make things right.

As he follows Felix out into the woods away from prying eyes, he considers whether it's even worth apologizing if their friendship is done with anyway. He just hopes this won't cause unnecessary drama within the group, the others sure as hell don’t need to get involved.

His train of thought is interrupted when he's suddenly pushed against a tree, letting out a startled yelp that he’ll later vehemently deny. Shit, is Felix going to beat him up?

An arm wrapping around his hip is finally enough to pull Ace out of his racing thoughts, and when he looks up at the man he finally realizes that Felix is definitely not upset with him, and his eyebrows shoot up into his hairline upon seeing the clear bedroom eyes thrown his way.

“Is this not okay?” Felix asks, his dark gaze faltering from insecurity. “Naw, baby, just took me by surprise,” Ace practically purrs, a lazy grin spreading over his face as the familiar confidence returns, his hands running over Felix's shoulders appreciatively. “I thought you were upset with me from before, not that you'd take me up on the offer.” “Well, I—” Felix starts, clearing his throat self-consciously. “I've wanted this for quite some time, and Dwight said you probably wouldn't be opposed, so…”

That's what they were talking about? And Dwight convinced Felix that Ace is down to fuck? Shit, he needs to get the kid a fruit basket or something to thank him.

“He's definitely not wrong,” Ace says, trying for a seductive look but probably ends up leering stupidly from the anticipation instead. But apparently it gets the job done, because Felix pulls him tighter against him and leans in for a kiss.

And okay, wow, apparently he wasn't lying about really wanting this, because there's an urgency in the way he practically devours Ace's mouth, letting out an appreciative groan when Ace parts his lips and encourages him to deepen the kiss.

So maybe he should be worried about Felix's girlfriend or his sudden interest in men or whether he's looking for more than a casual fuck. But Ace has never been good at thinking certain things through and he's not about to start now, not when he has a breathless and flushed Felix pulling away from the kiss and looking at him with lust-blown eyes.

“I've wanted to do that for a long time,” Felix breathes, the corner of his mouth quirking up into a half-smile. “You really should have just asked,” Ace smirks, a little amazed that he managed to miss all the signs, because there’s nothing subtle about the way Felix looks at him now. “I was working up to it,” Felix argues. “But then you started practically eye fucking me—” “I was looking respectfully,” Ace corrects, causing Felix to snort. “You stood in a bush and drooled, and then propositioned me,” Felix points out. “Yeah, and you liked it so much you blushed like a virgin and started flirting and took the killer off of me—which, thanks for that, by the way—” Ace starts. “You're welcome.” “—and… why did I think you were mad at me again?” Ace realizes. “No idea. I thought it was pretty obvious why I dragged you here to ‘talk’,” Felix emphasizes, gaze roaming appreciatively over his body. “Well, what are you waiting for?” Ace encourages, flashing his signature smirk in challenge.

And Ace learns that no matter how much he likes Felix's outfit, getting to help Felix out of it is even better.

#dbd fanfic #felix richter #ace visconti #felix x ace #riconti #dbd #dead by daylight #dweetwrites

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stressedkitkatttt · 4 years

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In Control(Let The Games Begin Part 3, Dirtier Version)

This is for the people who wanted it dirty with Zabdiel. I have little to say about this - enjoy! It's basically the same, only the smut part is different. And also sorry if it isn't that good... I don't really like getting tied up so I don't know how that shit goes down... But I tried so that counts, right?

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: Dom!Zabdiel, SMUT, oral, BDSM elements(bondage), overstimulation, gets a little real in some parts, y'all wanted nasty so I give you nasty(lmao I tried), but it's definitely dirtier than my original idea for this story.

DISCLAIMER: Do NOT think it is okay to take my stories and post them somewhere else without my EXPLICIT PERMISSION. Do NOT think it is okay to take anyone else's stories and post them somewhere else without their EXPLICIT PERMISSION. Giving credit does NOT count as permission. You may reblog my stories, you may NOT repost my stories without MY PERMISSION.

~~~~~~~~~~~

The boys started early; an interview in the morning followed by a small fan meet and greet, which takes a long while to finish up. All the boys were having fun. All except one, that is. You noticed that Zabdiel was acting rather strange today. Of course, he covered it in front of the cameras and fans but when he was out of sight, he just seemed.... off. You've rarely ever seen him like this; the last time you did someone had pushed his last nerve and he hadn't hesitated to rip the poor guy a new one before going back to the bus and not showing his face for the rest of the night.

The question now is either who pissed him off or was it a personal problem? You decide to take a chance knowing that Zabdiel would never lay a finger on you. As far as chewing you out, you weren't so sure. You keep an eye on him for the time being to look for any signs that he might lash out on certain people. Nothing. Every person that came up to him didn't seem to piss him off so now you're beginning to think that it was a personal problem he was dealing with. And you wanted to know what it was.

~~~~

Backstage of tonight's show was tense, the air was electric, and the boys were smiling like crazy from the thrill of going out on stage. Even Zabdiel, who had been grumpy all day, had a smile playing at his lips. You wished the boys good luck and watched as they went out on stage to their respective positions before starting - the crowd of screaming fangirls and boys going absolutely wild.

You watched how fluidly their movements matched. You watched Zabdiel and noticed that the way he moved his hips was just a little harder than they should be. The boys were so in sync this time around. Your tongue pokes out to lick your lips as dirty thoughts of how all the boys could show you those sinful moves. It wasn't the first time you'd thought about having all of them at the same time but that was one fantasy you kept to yourself. Maybe one day it'll become a reality. Sure, they share you already but doing it with each other at the same time could raise some problems. So until then, this is one fantasy you wanted to indulge by yourself.

You're snapped from your thoughts as a production assistant came up beside you and placed a hand on your shoulder. You turn to face him. "Come with me, Ali needs your help." You take one last look at the boys before following the PA down a hallway. After helping out Ali, you come backstage just in time to see the boys say goodbye to their fans before running backstage. They each grab a towel and wipe off the sweat from their foreheads and necks. You help the boys remove the equipment from their shirts and handing them off to some backstage worker. The boys stayed around to talk; buzzing about how well tonight's show went. All except for Zabdiel, who walked off first chance he got.

Everyone watched as he walked off down the hall to his dressing room. "Tal vez sólo está cansado?" Erick says. Everyone seemed to leave it at that and continued on talking about their performance. You, however, decided to follow the tall Puerto Rican. You walk all the way to his dressing room door and you take a deep breath and knock twice. There was some shuffling before the door opened and revealed a shirtless Zabdiel, who's pants were hanging just a little lower than necessary. He didn't say anything but he stepped to the side to let you in. Once you were in, the door was closed and locked.

You turn to face him, watching as he walks past you and to the small couch, collapsing onto it with a small huff. You decide to sit on the chair close to the mirror. There's a silence that's fallen in the room. You decide to break it. "You gonna tell me what's going on?" He doesn't reply but keeps his eyes on you.

"There is nothing wrong." He replies after a few moments. You scoff at the horrible lie. He may hold a good facade against everyone else except you. You had a sixth sense of knowing when someone is lying. And you can't even count the number of times you've caught people in their bullshit.

You cock a brow at his response, hardening your gaze a little. It never took much for the boys to crack when they're around you. Zabdiel was no exception. "Zabdiel, I've known you for close to three and a half years. You know you can't lie to me." He sighs and nods in defeat.

"Vale, vale... tú ganas." He shows his hands. "Siento que no tengo ningún control. Todos el mundo siempre nos dice qué hacer. Sin embargo, nunca nos preguntan si es lo que queremos hacer." He takes a deep breath. "Me estresa, siento que no tengo control." You take a moment to process what he just said. You make a mental note to tear management a new one for not considering how the boys feel or what they want. You look at Zabdiel, who had his face buried in his hands, elbows propped on his knees. He needed you tonight, that was a given. Now whether that meant stress relief through sex or talking to a friend was entirely up to him.

You get up and walk over to the tall blonde and sit down next to him. You place a hand on his back and gently rub circles. You feel him lean against your touch and sigh contently. You try to hold in your impure thoughts at the feeling of his back muscles tensing and relaxing, trying so hard you don't realize you've stopped massaging his back. He turns to look at you and sees you're lost in your own thoughts. He reaches up a hand to gently cup your cheek, which takes you out of your thoughts.

The smirk on his lips tells you he knew exactly what you were thinking. You see his eyes darken and he suddenly grabs your hips, dragging you into his lap and unleashes a searing kiss upon your lips. You moan and grip his hair, letting him take control. He pulls back and rests his forehead against yours, breath fanning across your face.

"Yo necesito," he whispers, "pero no aquí."

~~~~ You and the boys finally reached the hotel and file out of the van. The trip over from the venue was silent, the boys either listening to music or resting their eyes for a brief moment. You all grab your suitcases and hotel room keys before heading to the elevator. You stand between Zabdiel and Erick, mindlessly scrolling through Instagram. The doors open and you follow the boys out. Thankfully, you didn't have to put up a fight with any of the boys because of the concert. They all head to their respective rooms and bunk down for the night. You follow Zabdiel and realize that your rooms are right next to each other. How convenient.

You put your stuff inside your room before knocking on Zabdiel's door. It opens immediately and he is quick to move you inside. The second the door closes, Zabdiel is on you and pushing you against the wall, placing his knee in between your legs. He quickly takes your hands and pins them above your head with one hand. His kiss is hot and he instantly takes control. He pulls away and looks down at you squirming against him. "I'm in control tonight." You look up at him.

"I noticed," you reply. He leans back in and kisses you again. The three years you've known him, he was never this rough with you. Sure, he liked to be on top, sometimes even letting you dominate him if he felt like switching it up, but he was never this... aggressive. Not that you were complaining.

He pulls away and picks you up, shoving you down onto the bed and pinning you down with his weight. "Are you okay with this?" He suddenly asked. You look at him and nod.

"You aren't the first person to dominate me like this, Zabdie." You reply, licking your lips. He leaned down to place his lips by your ear, his breaths sending little shocks down your body.

"Maybe not, but I'll be the one you won't forget." He gets up and walks over to his duffle bag, pulling something out but keeping it out of your sight. He finally turns around, keeping whatever he had behind his back as he walks back over to the bed. "Come here." He commands. You crawl over to him and sit on your knees in front of him, waiting for his next command.

"Are you sure you're okay with this?" He asks one more time, hand coming down to cup your cheek. You nod and he isn't satisfied. "Use your words, nena.”

"Yes Zabdiel, I am okay with this." He nods in approval before pulling out a long silk ribbon from behind his back. He places it down beside you and quickly removes your shirt. You weren't wearing a bra underneath, a very pleasant surprise for him. He moans as your breasts bounce free. He grabs the silk and you place your hands out in front of you, letting him tie the ribbon.

He takes a step back to admire the way you look. Topless, hands tied in front of you, and the innocent look you're giving him just adds to his arousal. He reaches a hand out and cups your cheek. You lean into the touch and look him in the eyes, pulling the most innocent look you can. He groans and swipes his thumb over your lips. You take it into your mouth, swirling your tongue over it. His eyes darken, his other fingers tighten around your jaw. "Did I say you could do that, princesa?" His voice is deeper than normal; more dominating. You lick a final stripe over his thumb and pull away, a coy smirk on your lips.

"No papi."

"Entonces, por qué lo hiciste?" His accent was thick.

"Because I can." A wide grin spreads across your face and you can see the wheels turning in his head. Your eyes trail down for a split second and you notice the twitch in his pants. He likes it when you disobey him. He takes a moment before replying.

"We haven't even started and you're already disobeying me, nena," his grip tightens around your jaw. He suddenly moves you back and pushes you into the bed. Your head lands on the pillows and the bed dips beside your head. You watch as he grasps the silk and moves your hands above your head, tying the end of the ribbon on the headboard. You tug but the knot doesn't budge.

Zabdiel moves down to the edge of the bed and you watch as he begins to undress. He quickly removes his shirt and pants, leaving on his boxers. Your eyes trail down his toned chest and to his prominent bulge. He reaches down and palms himself for a few moments and you clench your thighs together. He climbs onto the bed and crawls up until he reaches your legs. He rubs your legs, leaving goosebumps in their wake, and looking at you with dark eyes. "Open your legs, amol."

You smirk and keep them closed. He sighs and places his hands on your knees and pulls them open. The sudden smack against your ass made you jump in surprise, letting out a small moan slip past your lips. "The more you disobey me, the longer it will take you to cum. Only good girls get to cum." You nod and open your legs some more, allowing him easier access to your heat. He runs his hands up and down your sides before finally deciding to unbutton your pants and pull down the zipper. He slowly takes off your pants and drags them down your legs, leaving you in just your underwear.

Once they're off, he throws them in a corner and focuses on your clothed cunt. He slowly runs his finger over the fabric and applying a little bit of pressure, just enough to give you a tingling sensation but not enough to give you any relief. You begin to squirm the more he teases you. He stops and pulls away from you, landing a smack on your ass. You moan again. "You like it when I spank you, don't you? Such a dirty girl you are." He rubs your thighs and you calm down.

Soon enough, you feel his fingers hook into the waistband of your underwear and pull them down. He groans at the sight of your glistening cunt and begins to stroke your clit with his finger. "Already wet?" He asks, looking up. You moan and dig your head into the pillows. "What do you want? Dime." It was a loaded question, he knew what you wanted but he was in control and he wanted to hear it.

You lift your head to look Zabdiel in the eyes. "I want you to fuck me." He doesn't waste a moment and quickly pushes in one of his fingers, followed by another one. He begins to thrust his fingers at an agonizingly slow pace, making sure to drag his fingertips against your walls. You begin to moan and push your hips against his fingers, pushing them against your soft spot. When he pulls away suddenly and smacks your thigh, you groan in frustration. You look at him again. "Why'd you stop, Zabdie?"

"You take what I give you. Remember, the more you act up, the longer it will take for you to cum. If you keep this up, you won't be cumming at all tonight." He threatens. He suddenly leans up and his hand lands around your throat. You look up at him with big eyes. "And what's my name?"

"Zabdiel." You reply, smirking when his hand tightens, knowing damn well that's not what he wanted to hear. You were expecting him to smack your ass again but you watched in shock as he just shrugged and pulled away. You watched, mouth agape, as he climbed off the bed and removed his boxers, letting his dick slap against his stomach. Your eyes are instantly drawn to his dick and your pussy clenches around nothing. He begins to stroke himself, making a little show of how his hand fits perfectly around his dick and how he moves up and down. "What are you doing?"

He raises a brow, "You seem so keen on not wanting to cum tonight, so I might as well get myself off tonight and leave you here." You bite your lip as he continues stroking himself, letting out little moans here and there. He was never really vocal during sex. You tug on your restraints but couldn't get free. You can only take so much before you break.

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry papi," you whisper out, clenching your thighs. Who knew watching Zabdiel get himself off would make you this hot and bothered? He stops his hand and looks at you.

"What did you say? I can't hear you."

"I said, I'm sorry papi. I really do want to cum." He approaches the bed again and places himself between your thighs.

"But you sure aren't acting like it."

"I promise I'll be a good girl from now on. Just please..."

"Please what?"

"Please fuck me until I can't walk papi! Por favor, no puedo tomarlo más!"

"Okay. I'll be nice. If you disobey me one more time, however, I will leave you tied up and you will not cum at all." You nod and lay your head back down into the pillows. He spreads your legs once more and slips a finger in. You moan out and it takes every ounce of self-control to not buck your hips. Just be a good girl and you can cum is all that repeats in your head. He adds a second finger and you begin to lose yourself in the pleasure, feeling the knot in your stomach growing bigger the more he brushes his fingers along your walls and sweet spot.

"Fuck, papi, I'm close." He encourages you to let go, rubbing your clit with his thumb and that's all that it takes for you to cum. You buck your hips into his hand and he watches as your juice flows out onto his hand, thoroughly coating his fingers. He pulls them out and licks one finger clean. He reaches over your body, tapping his finger against your lips and you take it into your mouth, swirling your tongue around it.

"So sweet, mami." He says as he pulls away and scoots down, coming face to face with your wet cunt. "I want a better taste..." He suddenly flattens his tongue against your core and begins to lick a stripe, collecting most of your juices only for your body to produce more of it. He grabs ahold of your thighs and gives them a light smack every time they try to close around him. You're panting as he continues his assault on your pussy, feeling another orgasm quickly approaching.

"I'm close a-again, papi," you moan out. When he adds his finger again, you're cumming around him again, clenching hard. You feel a little lightheaded after your last orgasm, which was stronger than the first one. "Papi..."

"Hmm?" He hums against your core, tongue not letting up.

"I want you to... fuck me please." You reply, the feeling of his tongue getting to be just a little overstimulating. He pulls away just a little and looks at you.

"But I am, amol, mira," he drags his finger against your walls.

"N-no, not with your fingers."

"Do you want my mouth?" He begins to lower his head again, tongue poking out ever so slightly to brush against your sensitive clit.

"No... I want... Necesito tu polla, papi, por favor!" You raise your voice. He smirks, satisfied with your answer, and makes his way up your body. He rubs his tip against your entrance and you jerk at the sensation. You know that he won't go easy on you for the last round, and it's going to take all your energy away. He pushes in, your juices from your two orgasms making it easy to slip himself in all the way. Once he bottoms out you both moan. Your hands feel weak from being tied for so long and you tug at them, knowing it wouldn't do anything. Zabdiel begins to move his hips, pulling out slowly and pushing back in slowly. He makes sure you feel every inch of him against your walls. He leans down and his voice makes the hairs on your neck stand.

"Come on, nena, you can cum one more time, right? For me?" He whispers, lips attaching to your neck as his hands grip the sheets. His thrusts are stuttering and he is getting close himself, from both teasing himself earlier and your tight walls. You don't hold back on being vocal, telling him how good he feels inside you and how you like it when he dominates you. With you whispering dirty nothings into his ear, it serves to bring him closer to the edge.

Shifting his weight to his forearm, one hand slips down your bodies and lands a smack on your ass that echoes in the room. You moan loudly and he repeats the action a few more times, your pussy clenching him tighter each time. You're clenching hard around him and he's losing his rhythm, so he moves his hand in between your bodies to rub at your clit while whispering, "Look at you; taking all of me like a good girl. Such a good girl."

You feel the knot snap and your strongest orgasm yet overtakes you. Your back arches slightly, as much as you can while still being tied up, and you let his name fall off your lips like a prayer. He watches in awe as you come undone beneath him. Seeing you like this, knowing he was the one to bring you to this point, is all it takes before he coats your insides and collapsing beside you. He leans up beside you and unties your hands, tossing the silk somewhere behind him.

"Was that too much?" He looks at you with concern in his eyes. You cup his cheek and kiss him on the lips. When you pull away, you reply.

"No. I would tell you if it was too much. In fact, I would probably let you do this again." His eyes widened slightly.

"You would?"

You shrug and smile. "Yeah." You yawn and collapse on your side. "But right now I'm tired as hell and you have another busy day tomorrow." Another yawn interrupts you again and you relax into the bed. Zabdiel moves close behind you and wraps his arms around your middle, pulling you into his chest, spooning you. You close your eyes and sigh contently, letting yourself drift off into sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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#cnco #cnco smut #cnco imagine #cnco zabdiel #zabdiel de jesus #zabdiel de jesus smut #zabdaddy #cnco let the games begin

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goodnightallwhites · 4 years

Text

Snowbunny Gone Dark by Zenalite

Chapter 1 - Kana Kana sat on one of the many boxes outside waiting for the movers to show up. It was another suffocating summer day in Germany, but at least soon she and her boyfriend would be moving to a bigger, cooler apartment in the nicer part of town. And to think they said cosplaying wouldn’t get me anywhere. Not only did her supporters on Patreon get her by comfortably on a day to day basis, but they also ensured she would be living it up. I could probably make even more than this, she realized at times. Her fiance was very much against her going beyond the current pin-ups; but if he ever changed his mind, or if God forbid something happened to him… I’d really be raking in the dough. Kana broke away from her empty daydreaming when she noticed a few men staring at her from the Turkish shawarma place across the street. The grinned and spoke hurriedly with one another, but their eyes never left her. They even wore their traditional Islamic dress, whatever it was called… Please don’t come over here. She averted her eyes. Pretending a problem didn’t exist was a stupid way to deal with things, but it had been her way of handling awkward social situations ever since she had been a kid. Her legs were bare, and Kana suddenly wished she had worn more. Granted, even her casual clothes now had become a little slutty as a consequence of all the hot cosplaying. What she wore today - a pair of jean shorts, frilly blouse, and a lacey white choker - would no doubt be seen as anything but casual by a normal person. One of the guys from across the street checked both ways, getting ready to cross over. Please, don’t… But just then, a huge truck rounded past the corner and came down the street, with loud rap music blasting from the open windows. Kana got up and decided to make a run for it upstairs and watch for the movers from the window instead. But as padded towards the entrance to the building, the rap music got cut off and the truck pulled over audibly. Huh? Two brawny African guys stepped out, talking with each other in a mix of German, English, and something Kana couldn’t even recognize. Both of them wore baggy shorts, and only one of them bothered with a top. The other put his ripped and tattooed chest proudly on display. Were these guys seriously her movers? They stepped up to the clustered boxes and then shot her a glance. “You the one?” Kana’s mouth opened but it took her a while to speak. “J-J-Ja,” she managed at length. For some reason, speaking with immigrants always made her default to a fancy German accent that sounded comical to others. The shirted guy laughed. “You alright?” She swallowed, feeling dazed by the sun and the pressure. “Yes.” “Well, alright.” He went and opened the back of the truck while the shirtless guy grabbed the box that held the washing machine with an ease that shocked her. She remembered the way she and her fiance nearly killed themselves struggling to get it downstairs, and this guy just lifted it up like that… Though she had grown up fancying the pretty boys from manga and dating only the sweet, shy guys like her soon-to-be husband, the few moments in real life when she had seen men display raw physical power always put butterflies in her stomach. Her knees weakened. “You gonna help us out?” the shirtless guy barked. “M-Me?” She lowered her eyes. “But I’m so useless! I’d only inconvenience you, sir.” The other guy suddenly cracked up so hard he had to lower the box he picked up. “Sir? Did you just call this nigger right here ‘sir’?” Kana could only stammer in response, her cheeks blushing faintly. “I’m sorry.” The shirted guy narrowed his eyes. “Hey. Don’t I know you?” He took a step closer to her. “Wait, yes, I do! Holy shit, don’t tell me you’re her. Are you Kana? The cosplayer?” He knew her? The recognition only made her redden up like a cherry. She stared down at the sunbaked pavement, unsure of what to do or say. “You know, I used to be your Patron.” “O-Oh... “ Used to be? “Thank you…” she said weakly. “I always hoped you’d do some more hardcore stuff. But it never happened.” “My boyfriend doesn’t really approve of that.” The guy shrugged. “Who cares? It ain’t him that’s paying you, is it? And I doubt he’s that good at fucking you. By the looks of him, I’d say he’s a low-test beta that can barely satisfy you.” The tattooed guy went to work, loading up the other boxes, but the shirted one came up to her. Out of nowhere, he grabbed her hand. “Maybe when we’re done moving you to that other place, you can cosplay a bit for us.” “Uh… I don’t know…” Cosplay for him? How could she do that? No, I can’t! The whole thing just made her mind reel. If only her fiance was here. He would freak out to see her getting chatted up by a guy like this. A black guy especially… Kana always had the misfortune of attracting pervs that went out and grabbed her, and almost all of them were black. Even before the cosplay fame, back during the early school days, some of the black students she barely even knew sometimes tapped her ass as she went by… “We’ll see. I’m Adisa, by the way.” The shirtless guy went for the TV, but didn’t even notice that another box rested on top of it. At some point Kana had run out of tape and simply repurposed some packages from electronics for clothes… As he pulled it, the super stuffed PS4 box that held all of her underwear got pulled with it, and came crashing down to the pavement. The lid came undone and her myriad pairs of lacey and cutetsy panties spilled out, some getting carried off by the low breeze. Kana stood frozen, absolutely mortified at what had happened. You dumb ape! she wanted to cry. But it was her own fault for failing to secure it properly… And now everyone, both of the Africans, along with the Muslim from across the street and all the passersby stared down at her lingerie. One pair in particular, made of tightly-fitting white cotton with a laced decoration at the front and pink ribbons on the side, got carried off across the street by the breeze. She knew that pair. Her boyfriend had made them for her ages ago. Kana sped after them, not even thinking, barely bothering to check for any incoming cars as she dashed to the other side. But before she could reach them, one of the Muslim men hurried and picked them up. He immediately brought them up to his nose and sniffed. “Ahhh…” She couldn’t even speak. What could she say? This was such a blatant display of perversion that her mind had no ready response prepared to deal with it. “Uhm…” “Oh, excuse me,” he said with a thick accent. “Those are mine…” said Kana weakly. “Well. They’re mine now.” He grinned lasciviously and tucked them in his robe. He made to go when she reached out and grabbed him by the arm. “Please! You can’t take those. I need them.” She didn’t have the heart to tell her fiance that she lost them. Never mind that they went to a person like this. The dark and beady held her. “Hmm. Well. Why don’t you do something for me in return?” “Like what?” “Like give me a kiss.” The two black guys joined her now. “There a problem here?” asked Adisa, all heated up and sweating. “What’s wrong?” Kana struggled to speak. “This m-m-man… He has my panties. And he won’t give them back.” “Of course I will! I just told you how.” Adisa heard both their stories and nodded sagaciously. Kana could tell that what he decided would go. The Muslim guy feared him, but he positively in awe of the glistening physique of his tattooed companion. My dark knights… thought Kana happily. They would save her from this nonsense. “Well,” said Adisa thoughtfully. “I think there’s a simple solution this.” His eyes swivelled to Kana. “You just gotta kiss the man and be done with it.” “Excuse me?!” Kana took a step back from the three instinctively. How could they side with that creep… With… “Come on, you want them back, don’t you? It will only take a second. Just kiss him and be done. I’m not going to beat him up over this, if that’s what you’re waiting for. You should’ve taken better care of your things.” What!! The nerve on these people… Yet, she couldn’t just let it go. She needed those panties. It would be easy to hide that this happened from her fiance, but if she ended up without them, he would begin to assume all sorts of stuff.. “Fine, then,” Kana whispered to herself for reinforcement. She would just get it over with quickly and be done. She stepped up to the old man and closed her eyes, waiting for the inevitable. Here she was,a famous cosplayer with hundreds of thousands of fans, with a booming Patreon, with a wonderful fiance, giving herself to this pervert Muslim… He could feel his stinky breath hitting her face as he closed in. His hand pawed at her ass, squeezing it and slapping it playfully, while his other hand came up to grope her breasts and massage them through her top. “That’s not--” Her words were interrupted by his filthy tongue ramming itself into her mouth. It went in deep, crushing her own tongue in the process, swimming freely in her precious little mouth and filling it up with his booze-laced spit… Don’t… thought Kana. But there was nothing to be done. The old guy did whatever he wanted with her in the moment, moving those hairy gnarled hands all over her soft, creamy body and raping her mouth at leisure. Adisa and his friend watched it all with a glint of amusement in their eyes, arms folded as they chatted up in their African tongue. Don’t you laugh at me! It’s your fault! When Kana finally untangled herself from the guy, glimmering threads of spit still connected their mouths, and both her ass and breasts were sore from the brutalizing touch of his hands. These Muslims really are savages! She noticed Adisa staring, and then saw that a trickle of spit had dribbled down her chin and ran all the way down to wetten her and spoil her blouse. Angered by it all, Kana went ahead and snatched the panties from the old man, then ran across the street with the beginning of tears in her eyes and collected the rest of her panties from the ground. She knelt down and bent over to pick them all up, a movement that caused her skintight shorts to stretch that much more and paint clear pantylines over the fabric. The shorts came up and gave a glimpse of the lower part of her supple butt cheeks. They tightened against her crotch, and Kana could feel the bundled up denim grinding against her pussy lips. For some reason… The whole thing turned her on. She could hear the footsteps of the two movers coming back. No doubt, they were watching her display her ass. They said nothing though. Instead, Kana gently swayed her ass and hips, unable to stop the waves of arousal that now built up inside her. How could she feel so aroused after that gross guy kissed her? She felt as stupid as one of those hentai characters now, used against her will yet horny all the same. Truth be told, she hadn’t gotten any action in a few days. And no real action… since the last time her fiance had gone away for a week and left her home alone. Though she loved him with all her heart, Kana couldn’t deny that his strength did not lie in pleasuring a woman. When they were younger she dismissed her concerns and thought he would get better. But now she had no illusions - he was simply too small, and though she had never acknowledged this in any way, she suspected that it took a toll on his subconscious and kept him from performing properly. Even for his size, he never got that hard, and a few gentle strokes was all it took to get him to come… “You okay?” asked Adisa. “Need any help?” “I’m fine…” She finished stuffing all the panties back into the box, then got up and carried it over to the truck. Kana noticed that both the black guys had stopped working now and stared at her instead. Not only that, but… Kana swallowed. … their cocks were clearly hard inside of their shorts. The ultra-thin, loose fabric outlined their stiffening rods perfectly. But what shocked her were their size. Enough of those BLACKED memes floated around for her to pique her interest in black guys, but she had always assumed that most weren’t that gifted. These two, though… They were very gifted. Kana found herself staring at Adisa’s big black cock and the way it snaked down his thigh. Just half an inch more - just half an inch! - and she would see the engorged head coming out. How in the world could anyone be that big? Fuck, but that’s so hot, she had to admit, but only in the quiet, private regions of her mind. Just thinking about it made her feel bad. It was bad enough that she preferred doing it alone than with her fiance. She couldn’t think about other guys though - too much guilt. In the past few months, she had only touched herself thinking about submitting before an aggressive dog. Surely, doing it with a dog could not be cheating. But this… Adisa grabbed his monster cock candidly through the shorts and adjusted it. Kana pried her gaze away immediately, but when her eyes came back she could see him staring at her knowingly. “No need to be ashamed,” he said. “We were staring at you too.” You were? Kana became aware of the intense way in which they stared at her now. Her visceral reaction to anyone staring at her was always poor, since she figured that they stood over her in judgment. But the way their dark eyes lingered over her body made her understand that they not only approved, but wanted her. Her knees rubbed together as she squeezed her thighs instinctively. She wondered what it would be like to feel one of those black cocks inside her. Even her dildo felt much better compared to her fiance, and that little thing wasn’t even half of the size of these monsters… They’re hard for me, she realized at last with full apprehension, and her vision almost swam with excitement. “We should finish up and get a move on,” said Adisa. Sweat trickled down her face as she sought to suppress the sudden lust she felt for these two black studs. Her chest heaved as she panted, her face all red with embarrassment. She couldn’t and wouldn’t look away from their magnificent cocks anymore. She watched them gloriously in the shorts as they finished moving the last of the boxes, the rods as thick and long as police batons. Most of the time, she had to struggle to find her fiance’s small cock if they initiated after dark. The comparison wasn’t even fair… Once they were done, the tattooed guy gruffly went up into the truck and slammed the door. “It’s too hot,” explained Adisa. “He doesn’t like it.” “Oh, I’m sorry… “ “Don’t worry. Maybe we can cool down at your place.” “Y-Yeah…” She glanced down at his beautiful black cock. Would she do it? “I sure hope so.” Betraying her fiance would be the worst thing that she could ever do, but… Adisa got behind her and wrapped his arm around her waist. “Why don’t we take a picture of your place together? To commemorate it.” “Oh… Oh, yeah!” He took out his phone and prepped it for a selfie. But his arm held her tighter, and the curve of his throbbing cock suddenly pushed against the small of her back and nestled there. Couldn’t he feel it to? He had to. Yet he made no move to shift it away. If anything, it pulsed even harder now that it pressed directly against her. “Smile,” said Adisa. Kana brought her hands up to make peace signs and smiled warmly at the camera. All while a strong black guy held her from behind and grinned, his arm wrapped around her tiny waist. He snapped a photo. “There we go!” Kana felt too shy to ask him whether or not he would upload it and tag her. At the same time, the idea of other people seeing her with that guy without knowing what was going on turned her on. Even if her were to ask, she could deny it. It was his fault for not staying around for the movers to show up anyway… As they made their way to get into the truck Adisa gave her a playful slap on the butt. “You best be careful, cosplay girl.” The Volkswagen was an old model with cramped seats and no air conditioner. The shirtless guy fanned himself with a crumpled up newspaper when Kana clambered inside and sat next to him. Adisa climbed up and trapped her between the two of them. The truck started off, and the two guys couldn’t stop complaining about the heat. Kana pinched her shirt and fanned it against her chest. She could tolerate the summer heat to a certain extent, but this was far more than that.. They’re going to fuck me, she thought. All that talk until now… They were going to carry all the stuff inside her new place and then she would offer them a few drinks and… And they’ll fuck me. The idea that she would be taking two big black cocks inside her finally registered. I’m going to get blacked, too. Of course she could pull out of it. Find an excuse or something. But - her gaze swept over both their hard abs and throbbing cocks - I don’t want to. She would find a way to deceive her fiance. Probably, he wouldn’t even have an inkling about it. The problem is finding a way to live with myself after. “Yo, Kana, aren’t you hot?” asked Adisa. She smiled stupid. “I’m practically dying.” Adisa brought his black fingers down and felt the fabric of her blouse with a suggestive look in his eyes. “This is making you too hot. Let’s take it off.” Before she could protest, he lifted her arms up and slipped it off, then threw it on the dashboard. All that remained for a top was her lacy white bra. Though, it was a skimpy bra to begin with that she usually wore for cosplay sessions and less for practical purposes, with two tight cups that squeezed her breasts hard and left the upper part of them completely uncovered. The extreme and perfectly round curves were up for display. The bright noon light that streamed through the window caressed and warmed them, and Kana could see that Adisa stared at them intensely. With every jolt that passed through the truck, the soft flesh of her pale breasts trembled in response. “They look so soft,” said Adisa. “May I?” May he what? Her mind reeled. Touch them? Was he asking permission to feel up her breasts? Nobody had ever done that before! Not even her fiance. He did it sometimes, and a few other guys had groped her here and there or pretended to brush against her breasts, but no one had tried to get her candid permission. “G-Go ahead,” she finally whispered in a sultry tone. Nothing seemed more important right now than seeing those strong black fingers enjoying her creamy breasts. Nothing. Not even her fiance and future marriage. “Please, sir,” she added. Adisa reached up and began to move the tips of his fingers over their surface and to circle around the vulgar curves, all the way down between her deep cleavage. “Your skin’s so nice and smooth… A silky white girl, just how I like them.” “Thank you, sir…” Why did it feel so nice and so right to call him that? Sir. It had always been strange to call her teachers and other figures that way. But somehow, calling this strong and well-endowed black guy that came natural to her. Even just gazing at him, he just looked so much stronger than all the white guys she had seen. Of course, he could probably beat her fiance with his pinky. But even compared to white guy that were supposed to be tough or athletes, he simply ranked so much higher… They stopped at a red light, at which point the tattooed friend reached over and place his hand on her thigh. So big. So black. For the first time she noticed that his hand had been inked up as well, with tribal patterns coming along the throbbing veins that calloused fingers. Outside, Kana could see the people waiting at the crossing for the light to change. A few of them glanced up, but Kana told herself they couldn’t see anything. Even though a few of them stared… It would’ve been embarrassing to know that random people would’ve seen her getting groped by black hands like this, especially if an old classmate or a family friend happened to be among the crowd… The drive to the new place would take at least an hour, especially in this kind of loaded traffic. But that only made the flowing action in the truck that much easier to keep going. Black fingers ran over her breasts and neck, her tight stomach and protruding hip bones, her slender neck, down her juicy thighs and between the freshly-washed hair. And every single one of their movements sent tingles of pleasure down to her pussy and put happy butterflies in her tummy. Kana submitted eagerly, amazed that two black alpha males like these would show interest in a nerdy white girl like her. And also blown away by the way she felt. She had been with her boyfriend for eight years now, a time long enough to forget such total lust if she had ever experienced it to begin with. Breathing became a challenge. She panted like a bitch in heat under their touch, red as a cherry from the embarrassment of showing off in this way. From appearing like such a desperate slut. Maybe I am a desperate slut. Certainly, the more they did and the more she saw of their bodies, the more apprehensive she became of that fact. Even if her fiance found out, she would apologize. He loves me. He’ll understand. After all, this wasn’t her fault. She never asked for these feelings. No more than it’s his fault for having a tiny cock. Did Kana choose for him to be born a beta white guy that couldn’t satisfy her? Not at all! “C-C-Can…” She swallowed, struggled to speak at all. Her chest jiggled up and down vulgarily as she fought to breathe normally. “What’s that?” Adisa caressed her face with the back of his hand, as a master would a good pet. “What is it?” “C-Can I touch you t-t-too? Sir…” “Oh, go ahead!” Kana’s small pale and rushed down and grabbed both their black cocks through the shorts as if she clung to them for dear life. “Fuck,” she whispered. She did it. She actually did it. The big black cocks were in her hands. Too late to turn back now… They throbbed powerfully in her grasp, in a way her fiance’s tiny white dicklet never could. These were different. These are black cocks. She traced her fingers over the bulging veins through the yielding fabric, desperately to feel the heat of them directly against her skin. Instead of slowing down, she felt them up in a mad rush, afraid to be deprived of them at any moment, still in total disbelief that anything this big could be real, and that she was not only allowed to touch them, but they were made hard by her unworthy white body. How can they be so fucking big? No wonder so many of her friends were dating black guys. The jokes about their size were always made, but Kana never expected them to be all true… Her phone vibrated against her. Fuck! It could’ve been her fiance. She needed to answer, but she couldn’t even get herself to stop touching their cocks. And before she made up her mind to do so, Adisa deftly pulled her phone out of its pocket. On the screen, Kana could see her fiance’s name staring at her. A feeling of disappointment in herself and revulsion hit her strongly… but she didn’t release either of the two cocks out of her grip. There was no time to do anything. Adisa tilted his head and gave her a lopsided grin, then flicked his thumb and answered in her stead, putting the phone on speaker. “Baby? You okay? Took you a long time to answer…” her fiance said worriedly. The two black guys cackled under their breath. Oh, honey… Kana bit her lip wondering what to say. But even as she struggled to find the right words to say to the man in her life, all her brain pumped into being were thoughts of how amazing the two big black cocks she held were, and how annoyed she was at nearly being interrupted from touching them. “I’m fine!” she cried weakly. “Still on the road.” “Were those guys okay?” “Oh, yeah, they’re great!” He laughed nervously. “You sound a little tense.” “No, no, no…” She felt the tattooed guy’s cock throb wildly against her palm and grow to an even larger size than before. How was that even possible… Did it seriously turn him on so much to hear her talking to her boyfriend? “I’m good, I promise.” “Okay… I think I’ll be done here soon. Then I’ll go to our new place and help.” “Sure thing.” As she spoke, Adisa caressed her arm reassuringly and slowly reached behind her. At first Kana assumed he only meant to prop her up for comfort. But then she could feel him messing with the lock of her bra. Oh, no, don’t! Not while I’m on the phone… But even as the clasp came undone and the bra began to fall, she still clung to their cocks and stroked them affectionately, idly wondering which one would turn out to be the biggest of the two. She would have to work hard and arouse them both as much as possible. “Honey?” Kana watched her bra slowly slip away, inch by inch, until it finally toppled over and fell into her. “Y-Y-Yes, dear?” She couldn’t keep calm. Her breasts were fully exposed before these two strangers, these strong black alphas, and they jiggled in crazed excitement in their newfound freedom. “I love you.” Adisa placed his palms under her hefty breasts and lifted them appraisingly, eyes going wide at how perky they managed to be in spite of the vulgar size. The black fingers came up to circle around the diffused area of her areolas. “I love you too, baby!” stammered Kana recklessly. She couldn’t do this. The call needed to end. She could barely keep her head straight even without having to respond to her fiance. Her nipples, which rarely hardened even in the cold and almost never responded positively to any playful teasing, were suddenly fully erect and shot out like little pink bullets. And as soon they came into contact with the black fingers, an overwhelming bolt of pleasure electrified her body and made her shudder weakly. “Well, I see you’re not very talkative,” her fiance said, annoyed now. Kana tried to speak low. “Honey, I’m still in the truck. You know how I am. I’m nervous.” “Oh.” He sighed deeply, sounding more understanding. “Okay, then, we’ll talk at home. Bye, bunny.” Adisa ended the call before she could reply in turn, then chuckled grimly. “Bunny?” he asked her, his dark eyes boring into hers. “Is that what you are?” “I don’t know…” “I’d say you’re a snowbunny.” He pushed his fingers hard into the yielding, soft flesh of her full breasts. “Aren’t you?” “Yes, sir…” mewled Kana submissively. “I definitely am a snowbunny.” They weren’t just words, either. As embarrassing and as strange as this whole affair turned out to be, it opened up new doors to her that she never thought possible. Experiencing anything but the tame, boring sex she got from her fiance or the pathetic masturbation sessions she tried to sneak into her schedule unnoticed hadn’t entered her mind. All the pleasure she had denied her body for the last eight years by being with her fiance came pouring down on her in an unstoppable flood that drowned her judgment, her morals, and any sense of decency. These godly big black cocks broke that dam, and she had no way of building it back now. And I don’t want to. The worst thing that could happen now was that her fiance would leave her. And is that really so bad? She could pursue wholly new things, expand her offerings on her Patreon, and possibly find heights of sexual pleasure unimagined by others. A once in a lifetime opportunity. As her eyes finally lifted from from the two black studs at her sides, Kana noticed that they were in the center of town. Were they taking a detour? What’s worse, she now knew with certainty that the people on the other side of the window pane could see her. One older lady that had a Slavic look about her narrowed her eyes as she stared into the truck and crossed herself. Jealous bitch, thought Kana. They could all stare. To hell with them. She was accomplished cosplayer that made more money dressing up for fun than they did by working their shitty jobs. And now, she found the affection of two wonderful black men. If they became a problem, her switching towns would be their loss. “I can’t wait to get there.” “Me neither,” Adisa said. “What do you say you do a little cosplay for us?” Kana giggled. “As what?” “I’ll think about it.” He tugged lovingly at her swollen nipples. Kana smiled and melted away, her body coming undone with arousal. She sank into the seat and slid down, her legs opening wide instinctively. This was heaven. In her mindless cocklust, she couldn’t even tell that they reached the new place until Adisa gently slapped her back into the world. All she did was nervously think over how she would take their cocks inside, and in what way she would seek to pleasure each as much as she could. To serve their black cocks with her utmost. “Come on, bunny,” said Adisa. “We made it.” Both the guys hopped down from the truck, leaving Kana feeling alone and needy. She searched for her top and bra, but couldn’t find them anywhere. She made a hand bra and went after the two. “Have you seen my clothes?” Adisa shook his head and smiled wickedly. “Haven’t seen them, sorry.” The way he said it sent a chill down her spine. People passed by on the street giving her long looks, eyes lingering over the overflowing flesh of her breasts and her smooth, pale back. She would sure make an impression on the new neighbors. The tattooed guy opened up the back of the truck. “Where do we take these?” he asked gruffly. “Oh, right. Shit. I forgot. I have to go to my landlord first. Can you search for a box that’s labelled for clothes?” “Hold on,” said Adisa, grabbing her wrist. “What do you need clothes for? You know where this landlord is?” Kana gulped. She already sensed what he wanted her to do. “Yeah.” “Well, let’s go see him.” They entered the classy building together holding hands, Kana struggling to hold her breasts with a single arm. They swayed violently as they went up the steps, and she found herself craving desperately to feel the weight of them taken away by Adisa’s strong black hands. They went up to the third floor, found the door, and knocked. Kana wondered what her landlord’s reaction would be at seeing her half-naked and holding hands with a buff and shirtless African. She and her fiance had presented themselves as a nice, quiet, almost old-fashioned German couple. The door cracked open warily. “Who’s that?” rasped a voice from the other side. “It’s m-me!” said Kana. “The girl from downstairs. I’m here with the movers and I need to pick up the keys.” The eyes peered at her intensely. “You?” Adisa leaned against the door and sent it flying open. He quickly apologized, but now the obese landlord stood before them in the light, with an angered expression. “I thought you were moving in with your fiance!” cried the old man. He gesticulated towards her bare top and Adisa. “What’s the meaning of this? I’m not bringing in people like you in my building, I can tell you that.” Oh, you annoying cunt, thought Kana. But all she could do was smile awkwardly. She opened her mouth to speak when she had both her hands yanked behind her back and yelped painfully instead. Adisa held her down from the back, her hands positioned in such a way that her fingers could move over the huge head of his cock. He pushed her forwards and arched her back theatrically, presenting her breasts before the landlord. His angry expression went away, and instead he leered down at her perky and full breasts with great interest. Without a word from anyone, his gnarled, liver-spotted hands came up to cup them. He smiled as stupidly as a little boy. “My, what amazing breasts…” “See!” said Adisa. “And you want her to leave this building.” The landlord swallowed uncomfortably as he massaged the creamy flesh between his ancient fingers. “It’s not me… It’s these neighbors…” “You’ll talk to them. You’ll make them understand. And in exchange, I think Kana will be real grateful. She’ll even come over and take care of you from time to time. Won’t you, snowbunny?” “Yessir,” said Kana eagerly. She glanced down at the way those veiny old hands groped her chest, and focused instead on how vigorously Adisa throbbed in her grip. She would let this old man do whatever and whenever he wanted. So long as she had some time with Adisa after it all, all would be well. The landlord agreed to the terms and waddled off to bring the keys. “Told you it would work,” said Adisa. You actually didn’t tell me anything… Not that she minded. She had spent her whole life worrying about making the wrong decision. It was one of the few things she hated about her fiance. He thought he was being sweet by letting her make decisions or trying to consult with her - in reality, all she wanted was for him to take the lead and tell her what to do and when to do it. Serving was much easier. Kana took the keys from the old man and jingled them happily as they went back down to the truck. She couldn’t believe that it had been so easy to solve that problem. It took them week and weeks of back and forths to get that stupid geezer to even see them for real, and then they’d spent days deciding what to wear and what to say. And all it took to bring him from the brink was letting him have some fun with her breasts. I need to stop underestimating my natural charms, thought Kana, only half-jokingly. The tattooed friend had already moved most of the boxes by himself at the right door. “It was on the papers,” he explained. “Oh,” said Kana. She opened the door for them and entered the lofty and luxurious apartment space. Everything was so much nicer here. The white-paneled walls, the flawless floorboards, the enormous windows that poured in sunlight, and the balcony opening that let in clear, fresh air, and faced the center of the city, with the cityscape spreading below her. “Nice place you got here,” said Adisa. The guys dropped off the first series of boxes. “We’re going to have to christen it together.” Kana smiled at them mischievously. “Yes, we will.” She offered to make the guys some drinks and went into the large kitchen that connected to the living room, already stocked with silverware, appliances, and some basics like coffee and wine. Kana first poured herself a glass of wine and gulped it down. She took a deep breath, feeling the cold liquid going into the fiery warmth of her body. I needed that. She poured herself another. And then one more. She couldn’t hold her drinks very well, but today she felt fiercely thirsty and in need of a boost to break the remaining barriers in her psyche. I need to make these guys happy. By the time she went back to them with two slender glasses filled to the brim with wine, all the stuff lay clustered in the corner and the door had been closed. Her two black studs rested on the pristine white couch and had taken off their shoes to stretch their legs over the antique table in front of them. “Thanks,” said Adisa. “My pleasure, sir,” said Kana with a delighted giggle. It made her so happy to please them. That’s what I’m for. Their snowbunny… Adisa yawned and folded his muscular arms over his toned abs. “I was thinking, Kana. Why don’t you cosplay Atago for us? I’d like that.” “A-Atago!” Kana bobbed her head. “Right! I’ll go get ready, sir.” Adisa grinned. “Good girl.” It’s happening, she thought. I’m going to fuck them. She needed to hurry about it too. Her fiance could come over at any moment. She wanted at least an hour with the studs before she had to go back to that. Just thinking about having to pretend to like her soon-to-be-husband’s little dicklet again made her groan with disgust. I love him, but that’s just too much. She went through the boxes in a mad rush, trying to find the costume before the studs lost all interest. Finally, she came over the one labeled the right way and headed with it into the bedroom. She dressed up as quickly as she could and perfumed herself thoroughly, making sure to spare a few drops for the insides of her thighs as well. They’ll be going all over… When she finally walked back into the living room, heels clacking in announcement, she only found Adisa lying sleepily on the couch. “Where’s your friend?” “Bathroom.” His eyes opened and widened as soon as he saw her. “Jesus. But you look good.” Kana smiled and twirled before him. “Thank you, sir.” “Come here…” She went and sat down in his lap, feeling her ass press against his thick cock. Adisa stroked her thighs and opened her legs up, and finally brought her mouth low for a kiss. My third partner. She hated that the Muslim guy had gotten to kiss her before Adisa, but then, so had her wimpy white boyfriend. You can always start fresh. They made out lovingly, exploring each other’s body slowly. Kana couldn’t believe how good every part of him felt to the touch - how hard and tough all his muscles were. She got too used to her slouch of a boyfriend. Just seeing flawless, smooth, dark and hard flesh was enough to make her mouth water. Adisa leaned his head back and closed his eyes as muttered her adoration and kissed his upper body in pure worship. “You’re so beautiful...” she repeated. Her fingers traced over his stunning abs repeatedly. “So strong and so nice.” “Goddamn,” he said, giggling darkly. “Snowbunnies really are the best.” Kana smiled shyly and slid down from his body, then knelt before him as a willing slave, not daring to touch his cock without direct permission. She watched it move under the weathered shorts like a monster under the surface of the water, revealed and only a step away from being displayed in its full crowning glory. “You want that?” “More than anything,” said Kana. “I’ll trade you for it. You give me that ring, and I’ll breed you.” Breed me… Her memory ignited with all those memes and raceplay porn she had seen floating around Tumblr. ONLY WHITE GIRLS CAN BRING ABOUT WHITE EXTINCTION. DO YOUR PART. Captioned on top of a picture of a blonde teen with her mouth stretched out by a big black cock. There were tons. She found them cringy in the past, but now… Maybe they had a point. The idea of being pumped with black seed and being made into a breeding toy held an unimaginable appeal… Her eyes went down to the slender, diamond studded ring. She had cried so much when her fiance offered it. Accepted the proposal without so much as a second thought. Now… Kana took the ring off and held it out towards Adisa. He took it from her without hesitation and put it on his own finger. “You’re desperate to get blacked, aren’t you?” The word came out breathless: “Yes.” Adisa stood up before her and dropped his shorts. His enormous cock stood a mere inch away from her face, its veins bulging down the shaft. Kana was so stunned by it she couldn’t even reach out to grab it. He laughed and took a step forwards, letting it slap her gently across the face. The heated black cock pressed against her lips and nose, its musky smell filling up her nostrils. Her pussy tingled in response, no longer able to withhold the flood of juices that threatened to spoil her panties. Kana kissed it gently, relishing the feeling of the soft dark skin against her lips, then brought her hands up and began to massage the massive cock as she stroked it with her flickering tongue. The whole thing glistened with her spit and got stiffer with every passing second, the giant head pushing aside the foreskin to emerge, throbbing and leaking delicious seed. Kana lapped it happily, unable to make out what Adisa was saying. He held her by the hair and murmured approvingly. To think I’m here now. Sucking a big black cock. It was all so dirty and naughty. Christening her new home by betraying her fiance and selling out his most precious gift for a good dick. I really am a slut, thought Kana, rubbing her pussy through the soaked panties. But that only made it feel that much better. A heavy weight came down upon her head. She moved her face up to see the other BBC that rested on her forehead, ready for action. With one in each hand, she stroked them happily, kissing the head of each with more love than she had kissed her white boyfriend in years, lapping up every drop of seed and slurping it into her slutty white mouth. “I love your big black cocks…” “Oh, yeah? I can’t wait to put a black baby inside of you.” Kana grinned unhesitatingly. “Me neither.” The tattooed stud picked her up and threw her over his shoulder, then carried her with ease towards the bedroom. Yes, please! Finally! He threw her down on the bed unceremoniously and lied down next to her. Then he pulled her on top, with her breasts pressing against his hard chest and her eyes staring down into his. He reached back and flipped her skirt. He pulled hard on her panties, the stretched fabric biting into her pussy as it tore apart and snapped. The tearing sounds sent a shiver of terrified glee through Kana’s unexperienced body. She could feel the breeze coming through the open window hitting her drenched and heated pussy. Kana looked down into the piercing black eyes and begged: “Please, fuck me. Breed me. Please!” The ever-gruff tattooed guy only groaned, slapping his heavy cock against her pussy. He rubbed it for a few heavenly seconds against her sensitive lips, then shoved it inside roughly, as if she were an animal used to this sort of treatment. Kana screamed and shuddered, burying her head into his warm chest. Tears of pain welled in her eyes. But she had never felt this good in her life. Fuck me. This really is amazing… How could white girls not go black-only when this was on offer? She only lay on him passively, trying to keep it together while he rammed his cock deep inside her thick white bod. Her cherry had been taken long ago; but it might as well have never happened. Fucking with her fiance or with her dildo put no real pressure on her at all. But now the walls of her pussy stretched to the tearing point, and this magnificent fucking BBC threatened to rip her to shreds. I hope he does, she thought with grim exhilaration. I hope he breaks me down into nothing but a cumdumpster. Being a prized receptacle for his seed was all she could ever wish for. “You’re going to be bred real good.” Kana raised her gaze to see Adisa hovering over them. He brought his cock and slapped it against her face, then squeezed a few more drops of cum into her mouth. “Thank you, sir…” “Are you excited to make a black baby together?” Whenever her fiance brought up the idea of having a baby she only felt revulsion. Dogs were all she ever wanted, and they were infinitely better than some whiny little human. But… But. The idea of growing something inside her that would be a direct result of this moment, that would be a gift from her black masters, and the continuation of their superior line given directly through their seed… “I would love to have your babies,” she confessed. Anything for you. She could feel the black cock hitting regions in her she never even thought existed. Her eyes rolled in her sockets of their own accord as a blast of pleasure nearly knocked her out, her legs quivering as the first true orgasm of her life took her breath away. Her mouth gaped soundlessly as her body exploded in joyous pleasure. In revery for big black cock. Adisa plugged her mouth with his throbbing shaft, sending it down her throat hard enough to make her choke and gag. He laughed and took it out, then slammed it hard against her face a couple of times, making her a mess of spit and cum. Kana could feel him prodding behind her. What are you doing? The answer came soon enough. At first she thought he meant to put it up her ass and she was ready to scream against it. Her ass had never had anything inside, and she doubted she could handle anything as big as his BBC. Instead, he held her steady by the hips, and as his friend slowed down, forced his cock alongside his into her already stretched-out pussy. “No, no, no…” Kana started, panicked, feeling her pussy giving in and burning with agony as it got stretched above and beyond what a white girl could’ve ever taken. “I--” The blow from the tattooed guy almost knocked her out. Her ears rang and she sobbed and as the burn spread over the left side of her face. “Don’t talk,” he ordered in his broken German. “Understand?” “Yessir,” she whispered obediently. Kana didn’t talk. She only screamed. The piercing shriek threatened to leave her voiceless, but the pain was unbearable. She scratched the guy’s shoulders and bit into them, trying to deal with the pressure of feeling both those cocks merging into one and ramming her insides with an almost evil desire to see her fully broken apart. Yet, as the moments passed, the pain slowly went away, replaced instead with blissful pleasure. She wasn’t sure when the moment that spelled the turning point came, but rather than screaming in pain she soon began to pant in pleasure, drooling all over the guy below her and happily getting slapped around for being such a gross and slutty bitch. The tattooed hands wrapped around her neck and squeezed, cutting off her air, then brought her in for a deep french kiss. Her pussy wrapped around the two giant cocks like a comfortable sleeve, not allowing a single drop of their seed to go to waste. She could feel the furnace-like that came from her tummy as they came over and over, dumping hot seed into her womb. “Fuck, yes! Please, fill me up! Let me have your black babies. Let me be a good snowbunny. Pleaaaaseeeee!!!” How could anything compare to this? How could her white fiance ever hope to match up to these black monsters, much less exceed them in pleasuring her? Being used in this brutal way was every girl’s dream. And for a strong alpha male like a black guy to do it to a weak and submissive female like any white girl was just nature’s way. “Do you think your fiance would be proud of you?” asked Adisa. “I don’t know.” Somehow she doubted it. He would probably cry. “He should be. Not just any girl can take two black cocks at once in her pussy. You’re a special kind of slut.” Special? The confirmation of her performance combined with the bursting feeling coming from within her sent a new torrent of pleasure through her. An orgasm so powerful that she cried in joy hit every nerve in her body, lighting up in the fire of cocklust in her eyes and tightening every muscle in service of her two black masters. She shook and drooled with her mouth open like a bitch in heat as her pussy clenched their cocks too tightly for them to escape, keeping them locked in as if she were being knotted and bred at the same time. She laughed and screamed and cooed and mewled as an endless succession of emotions passed too fast for her to make sense of any of them in particular, spinning like a broken slots machine, her consciousness moving in a total haze of conflicting thoughts… There was only one thing Kana could say with certainty… It feels so fucking good… And… Nothing can beat a big black cock… “Fuck me,” she ordered them, working herself up into a beastly frenzy. Her teeth gritted from the pain as she cried. “Fuck me! Fuck me! Fuck me!” They did, breaking her little white pussy beyond the use of any white guy ever again, making a sloppy mess of it. Kana arched her back in response and shivered as one orgasm after another rippled over her flesh and spasmed deep within the core of her body, her womb receiving every drop of their tasty seed. All she could do was let her tongue loll out in response as she allowed herself to be used and bred like a perfect little snowbunny. Her fiance could hear the animal noises echoing down the staircase as he made his way upstairs. They seemed to be coming from their new apartment but… They couldn’t be, he thought. As he had no key, he knocked on the door. No response. He knocked again. And again. And harder. At last the loud noises ceased for a period. The door opened and Kana appeared, all dressed up for one of her shoots, but with completely disheveled hair and beads of sweat running down her face. “What happened?” he asked. “Oh, I’m just… Struggling to move some of these boxes.” “What about the movers?” She rolled her eyes comically. “Oh, they left!” He couldn’t tell why she seemed so upset and breathless. “They… They were busy. Here!” Kana grabbed a cup from the table and forced it into his hand. Some kind of fizzy drink, with some effervescent addition still bubbling up to the surface. “What’s this?” Her face went white. “Don’t tell me it’s calcium…” “I’m sorry, honey,” she said apologetically, “but you know you gotta take it.” “Right, well… Okay.” Her fiance gulped the drink down reluctantly. He looked around the new place, until he noticed most of the boxes were still piled up. “I thought you did some moving.” “I did! It’s just… a slow process, you know.” He wanted to respond with doubt, but he suddenly felt incredibly sleepy. He could barely talk. His eyes were closing without him. He spotted the couch just moments before losing balance and tottered towards it, crashing down into a deep sleep. He awoke later to a loud banging noise. Outside, he could see that it was dark. Only the mixed light of the city and the moon streamed through the windows. He got up, still groggy, and went to get the door. A hulking, black policeman stood there, accompanied by his white partner and surrounded by a couple of the older neighbors. He flashed a light into his face. “You the guy livin’ here?” “Uhm, yes?” The policeman took a step inside. “Care to explain that noise?” Only now that the banging had stopped could he make out the intense grunting that came from the bedroom. It sounded like some sort of satanic ritual was taking place. “I have no idea…” The policeman shut the door and told his partner to take take care of the neighbors. They went and opened the door to the bedroom together. The sight that her fiance saw took his breath away. His fiancee lay sandwiched between two huge black guys, writhing like a single organism together, all of them completely naked and glistening in the intense beam of the flashlight. “KANA!!” he screamed. “What are you doing?!” She looked up from the scene with a crazed, drugged look on her face. But she smiled. “Baby?” The two guys fucking her made no attempt to stop. If anything, they only fucked her harder now that he entered the room, and Kana moaned joyously in response. Kana… Tears came to his eyes. “Stop it! Stop that right now! You can’t do this! We’re supposed to get married!” “I’m sorry, honey. It” - they pushed deep into her - “just” - her eyes rolled - “feels” - she yelped - “so” - smiled at him - “good.” He rushed towards the bed to stop it all when the policeman grabbed his arms. “What do you think you’re doing?” he asked. “Are you going to assault this nice woman?” “Assault her? She’s my fiance! Look what she’s doing.” “She’s just getting blacked, that’s all,” said the grinning policeman. “You should be expecting it. By the looks of you, you probably can’t satisfy her in any way.” Kana nodded. “It’s true, honey. That’s why... “ Her eyes closed again and her whole body quivered in response to an orgasm. She sighed deeply, the pleasure written all over her slutty face. “That’s why I need to get black bred now.” “No!” he cried. He ran towards the bed again; but this time the policeman twisted him around and slammed him against the wall. “What do you think you’re doing, huh?” He kicked her fiance down with his steel tipped boots until he made no move to stand up anymore. “You sit there and you wait for her to finish. Quietly.” The policeman prepared to leave, but Kana called him over. She looked him up and down with appraising eyes, then reached out and grabbed his cock. “Come by anytime, officer.” He caressed her face in return with a brown hand and slapped her. “Be a good slut in the meantime. Do whatever these guys here tell you. Or else I’ll have to arrest you.” Kana nodded obediently. He left. Her fiance sobbed, slumped against the floor. This can’t be real. This is a nightmare. But as much as he tried, the image wouldn’t go away. She just went on getting fucked by the two black guys. “Why?” he asked her. Kana gave him a long look. “You know w-w-why, d-darling,” she struggled to say. “You’re just so s-small and p-p-p-p…” Another powerful thrust broke her concentration and left her mewling in ecstasy. “If you d-d-don’t stop, I’m l-leaving.” “Please, honey, just try to enjoy… I know you will.” Enjoy it? How could he? Yet, as he came cognizant of his own body and needs, he realized that he was, in fact, incredibly aroused. His hand went down almost with a mind of its own and began to grab at his tiny white cock. “See…” said Kana. “Just enjoy it…” He stroked himself pathetically as he watched these two black men take his fiancee. Wasn’t Kana always a good girl? He thought so. At times he entertained the idea that she could secretly be slutty, but this, this… A few strokes was all it took for him to come, and then he returned to total heartbreak. How could this be happening? How could he go on with things like this? “STOP CRYING!” he heard one of the black guys yell. When he looked up he noticed that the guy stood above him, his gigantic black cock dripping with Kana’s warm juices. As he moved, a few of the drops flew and hit her fiance in the face. “I can’t,” he mumbled. “I just can’t.” Kana came now and crouched before him. “You have to accept this. Otherwise we can’t go on. I’m sorry.” Her whole body was covered in sweat and dried seed, while her breasts and ass were red from all the mauling and ravaging. “You’re such a cunt,” he said. “Go kill yourself.” Slowly, with agonizing pain, he made himself stand up. He didn’t realize his cock was still hanging out of his pants. The two black guys laughed upon seeing it and slapped him in mocking support on the shoulder and apologized. Something flashed. He could see the engagement ring in between her fingers. Kana reached out and dropped it into his pocket unceremoniously. “You keep it now,” she said. “I’m sorry it had to end like this. Maybe you can change your mind. I’ll give you some time.” That their laughter and her dismissal made him hard again left him horrified. He rushed out of the room and fled the apartment in a rush. For two weeks, he didn’t see her at all, nor did anything really change. She went on posting as if nothing had happened and hadn’t even announced their break-up. Maybe she thinks we’re still together. In the meantime, he had watched so many interracial videos and imagined Kana getting fucked so much that he became desensitized to the matter. Either way, she would be getting blacked. At least he could try to enjoy her as well. But the day he went over to talk to her, there was no answer at the apartment. The few neighbors he met told him that the noises had never ceased coming from the apartment, but that the police refused to do anything about it. As he left the building, he saw a whole gang of black guys going upstairs. Probably to her. Then her name change happened. From Kana to Kana Black, officially. With it came the announcement that she would be offering hardcore content once the Patreon hit an enormous sum. He himself donated a lot of the money he planned to use on the wedding ring. Two days later, when the goal was hit, Kana posted new pics of herself. She cosplayed in all of them, but this time, she posed with different black guys that she either made out with or allowed to feel her up. The more money started pouring in, the more she put up. It started with handjobs but worked its way up to blowjob videos soon enough. The whole world could see his pure little fiancee choking on a big black cock. Rather than going down, the new content made her number of followers surge, and the sums being donated by single people outweighed what she sometimes made in a whole month before. Her whole Instagram got taken over by the blacking fever, and along with all the pictures she posted of herself in the company and hands of black guys, Kana quickly began to put up things about white extinction and the superiority of big black cock. The chokers she always wore around her neck were replaced instead by a pet collar with the inscription BBC SLUT. It had been a partnership with some company that focused exclusively on black domination. Many of the girls that followed her and looked up to her soon joined in on it all as well. He tried to message her, to call her, to get through somehow… But Kana seemed to have forgotten that he even existed. The last Patreon goal for the year was so exorbitant that she even made the local news. A hundred thousand euro for her to release a video of her getting blacked. The money came in, but slowly. So slowly that he went out the second day and made a loan for 10k, and quickly donated it to the website. He needed to see his sweet Kana again. And he needed to see her getting blacked. The goal was finally hit. Within the hour, a video went up. It opened with Kana lounging on a chair in the middle of her living room. She wore a white lace leotard that showed her breasts candidly apart from the crossed pasties she wore over her nipples. She smiled at the camera, running a hand nervously through her long hair, the inscription on her collar flashing in the light. “Hello, everyone!” she said in a cute voice, waving towards the camera. “I’m so happy you all donated and made today possible! I hope you’re going to love every moment of this.” “I know you will,” said the gruff voice of the cameraman. Kana looked away shyly and reddened. “I mean, yes…” He reached out and began to stroke her face gently with the back of his hand. His skin was completely black, with stubby and gnarled fingers that showed countless scars. Just what kind of guy is this? her fiance wondered, worried. But his ex seemed more than happy with her black man. She closed her eyes and leaned into his hand, practically purring as a kitty might when touched by her master. Her tongue came out and began to lick quickly at his fingers. “You like that, huh?” “Uh-huh,” cooed Kana. “I love it…” He shoved two fingers into her mouth and got a close-up of her face as she sucked on them obediently. The slutty glimmer in her eyes said it all: she lived to serve black men now - to serve them in any way possible. The black fingers went deep down her throat and choked her, then came out dangling with her spit. Kana only cried out in disappointment: “More!” Instead, the cameraman smacked her hard. “Don’t you talk back! You stupid white whore. Don’t you know that?” “Sorry, sir.” Her fiance couldn’t figure out when she had become this way. Had she always been so submissive deep down? He often feared arguing with her on any topic. But to see her acting in such a subservient way… All to a bunch of African immigrants. The guy grabbed her hair and yanked her back, then ordered her to open her mouth wide and stick out her tongue. “Tell your fans, what are you going to do today?” “I’m going to get gangbanged by some big black cocks.” He grabbed her soft pink tongue and tugged on it, feeling it up between his fingers as if it were only a toy. “And what do you have to say to your fans that don’t want you taking black cock?” “Dat iz da bes.” He released her. “What now?” Kana giggled and licked her full lips. “That it’s the best,” she said quietly, staring at the camera as if it were a secret. Her fiance could almost feel that gaze boring into him through time and sending that message for him in particular. You’re not good enough, her judging eyes seemed to say. You never were, you tiny white dicklet. Now watch me fuck real men instead. And the guys that came in and joined her were real men. Tough, barrel-chested black guys with defined bodybuilding physiques, massive tattooed arms, and the biggest, veiniest cocks her fiance had ever seen. Once again, the camera focused on her face. “With your donations,” Kana explained, “we managed to get the best people we could find and fly them in special.” Not one of the guys spoke a single word of either English nor German. They looked as if they had been dragged from the darkest heart of Africa, for no reason but to come to Europe and properly black a deserving white princess like his fiancee. As Kana spoke to the camera, they begun to rest their cocks on her head and face, covering her up as she declared her love for the patrons. “I can’t wait for you guys to tell me what you think!” Once she was done, they put her on her knees… Kana had looked forward to this moment for some time. The name change and the Instagram pictures weren’t enough. Her brain was on the verge of exploding from all the ideas she got about how to communicate her love for BBC to the world and help it spread among the other miserable white girls of Europe that hadn’t been reached by it yet. She no longer even thought about that loser she used to be with. There was no point. There was no real love without lust, and there could never be real love for men that were such pathetic betas. It really is true, she thought. White guys are finished. But she and her new friends were happy to be at the forefront of white extinction. Nothing made her prouder than to think she would help bring about a better Europe, full of alpha black males that each had his white harem, and supported by hardworking white cucks that would slave away just to be able to watch it happen. But that would have to wait. For now, she closed her eyes and giggled with boundless joy as the African bulls slapped her face with their baton-like cocks. They were told beforehand that they could and should be as rough as possible with her, and Kana wanted to experience that and share it with her loyal patrons. It started quickly enough. One of the guys cupped her face and held her head still as he brought his throbbing big black cock and plunged it straight into the depths of her throat. No warm-up, no mercy, nothing. He pushed until he crushed Kana’s cute nose against the base of his cock. Kana gurgled and smiled as she used her throat to massage his cock. The camera came down and filmed the way the huge dick filled up her throat and bulged dangerously. She struggled to get her tongue out and ran it over his gorgeous, heavy-hanging balls, thinking dreamily of all the hot black seed that waited for her. He held her down by force, enjoying the way her throat spasmed and how the spit mixed with precum dripped from her nose. Tears welled in Kana’s eyes and flowed down her pretty face, running black with her make-up. They’re making a mess of me, she told the camera with her eyes, trying to somehow smile as the black cock spread her jaw so wide that an inch more to his girth might’ve dislocated it completely. Look at how good I’m doing for you, my patrons… The big black cock throbbed powerfully, and Kana could feel the heat of his seed going down into her stomach, filling her up like a good whore. Kana gasped when he drew his cock out, staring up at it in worship as hovered above her face, dripping spit and cum all over her lewd face. But just as she planned to go up and give it a kiss, the second guy yanked her away and stuffed her mouth. The head of his cock pushed against her cheek and made it bulge, while the cameraman crouched down to pet her face and congratulate her on her performance. “You’re doing great,” he said. “Show those white boys what they’re missing.” So she did. She let this cock fill her throat as well and dump its cum inside, but this time she caressed the seed-laden balls. As soon as his dick left her throat, she pushed her face right into his nutsack, kissing it and massaging it with her tongue, letting him know how much she appreciated the opportunity to serve black men. “I love you,” she whispered, barely able to think. “I love you so much.” The guys all laughed, and the others in the group came over to beat their cocks over her face. This time, when the third BBC plunged down the depths of her throat, another guy got down behind her. He felt up her drenched pussy for a couple of seconds, then quickly moved the strip of fabric aside and put his cock deep inside. Kana spit the shaft out to moan: “Ah, fuck! That feels so good, sir!” In return, the guy she was sucking off snapped at her in his African tongue and smacked her face, displeased with the audacity of her behavior. “I’m sorry, sir…” They filled her up from both ends, impaling her on their black rods and massacring her insides with hard thrusts that made her body spasm and leak juices and seed at every opportunity. Kana surrendered to abuse gladly, thrilled to be used in such a way by her black masters. They must really like me, she thought shyly. Her patrons would surely be proud of her for getting them so hard and working up so much seed out of them. Her fiance watched the scene unfold with tears in his eyes and a hand covered in weak cum. How could he allow himself to watch this, or even come to it? But, even as the thoughts rolled through his mind, they were quickly replaced by a new fountain of arousal. He wished now that he could go back and offer Kana enough BBC from day one so that he wouldn’t have lost her. As degrading as it was to have to watch his beloved get gangbanged by some Africans, and as difficult as it might’ve been to be there as it happened, he would’ve preferred it… The camera focused on her ass. It had been smacked relentlessly until it went red, and the black fingers still grabbed onto it roughly as he pushed his huge cock into her tight and vulnerable pussy. A shower of juices came out of her with every powerful thrust while her legs quivered in response and announced her non-stop orgasms. When the camera came to her face, it caught her white, rolled-back eyes as she lost herself in a sea of pleasure. In awe and worship. Her collar said it all. BBC SLUT. And that’s what she had become. Her face glistened with sweat, tears, and seed, as was proper for any snowbunny. The mascara, the eyeliner, the eyeshadow - all of it was plastered all over her face in a total mess. … but Kana couldn’t get enough of it. As the guys took turns exchanging her different holes, she instead reached out and used her hands to stroke the others by turns, not wanting to leave a single second to waste. If she missed the smallest opportunity to please these massive big black cocks, she could never forgive herself. “Please fuck my ass,” she managed to croak between the constant pumping of her throat. “I need it.” But the cameraman gave an order to the guys and they dropped her in the middle of the room. “Look at yourself,” he said. “You’re a mess. How can these guys want to fuck you when you look so bad?” Kana wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly feeling very exposed and vulnerable. Had she screwed up in such a major way? “I’ll go clean myself up…” “No, no, no. You stay there. I have a better idea. Close your eyes and keep your mouth open.” Reluctantly, Kana did as told. Her fiance put a pause to touching himself, just to see if this would really happen. He watched as the first African stud approached and aimed his cock towards her face, and began to piss right into her mouth. Rather than crawl away in horror as he expected, Kana began to smiled and arched her back, using her hands to wash her face with the golden shower that flowed down her body. “T-T-Thank you so much!” she stammered, nearly in tears with emotion. The second guy came up and straight into her throat, making her gargle as it overflowed and came rushing down her chest. Kana massaged her breasts hard, tugging on her nipples, clearly aroused out of her mind. She loved it. She loved knowing that her black masters pissed on her for all the world to see. For it to be recorded forever. This is how a white girl should be treated. And everyone needed to know that. “You still want your assfucked?” the cameraman asked. Did she ever… “Please!” Once they were done pissing on her, he came over and put a leash on her collar, then walked her up to the balcony. He wrapped the leash around the metal bars of the railing, making sure her head would stick through the bars. Kana nearly got sick with vertigo. She could see the heavy traffic down below. However, she soon noticed people from neighboring buildings looking her way. So they would see her too. Her assfucking would be a public spectacle. How wonderful! she thought. Her fiance saw that she still shivered and that the seed dumped inside her womb still poured from her ruined pussy. But Kana reached back and spread her reddened ass, displaying her tight and willing asshole. “We gotta plug you up first,” said the cameraman. And for that purpose, he brought a gigantic studded dildo and slowly forced it inside her pussy. Her fiance could hear Kana’s pathetic mewling as she struggled to take it all just half while dealing with metal studs that must’ve grinded against her insides. What came next surprised him. Rather than any of the black guys approaching her, they instead brought up the largest hound he had ever seen. His fur was short, which allowed a clear glimpse of the bulging muscles underneath. For sure, the dog must’ve been roided up long before to give that unnaturally beefy look. The cameraman came down to show off his cock: a red, swollen instrument of pain that dribbled thick ropes of cum from the tapering tip. The hound came up to lick her asshole, which got a yelp of surprise out of Kana. But if she seemed bothered that it was a dog she showed no sign of it. She instead allowed him to mount her comfortably, despite the scratches, and even helped him bring his deadly cock into her ass. The first part of it entered without issue, but around the midway point, Kana began to breathe heavily and hold the metal bars of the railing tightly, while the Africans helped the dog force the cock in for the rest of the way, ignoring Kana’s agonized screams. With the dog dick lodged inside her asshole, Kana trembled weakly and lowered herself, becoming the real obedient pet. She lowered herself on the brutal dildo - but the leash tugged at her collar and made her choke. No matter, she kept forcing it inside her pussy. Meanwhile, the dog assfucked her violently, scratching her pale and fragile skin. His snout opened. A wild tongue lolled out and dripped, showing just how much he took pleasure in ruining his human prey. Kana could feel herself getting bathed in the dog’s hot drool, while the gigantic cock knotted inside her little white ass. I’m just a pet for these wonderful black men, she thought. To please them and to amuse them. The studded dildo ravaged the walls of her pussy and tore at her insides, but that didn’t matter either. Not so long as they and my patrons enjoy it. Her own tongue came out as she choked herself out and felt her two holes getting destroyed all at once. They’ll all be so proud of me… Her fiance nearly destroyed himself in the process of watching the video as well. He wept and jerked himself until his whole being felt numb. This was the end of the line. This was what Kana had becoming. A white slut to be bred by white men and to convince others to follow down the same route. An example of what a nice, white German girl could become - a vessel for stronger, better black seed. A tool for the upcoming white extinction. He watched as his fiancee dripped with seed from both her holes, filled to the brim, and she finally passed from an orgasm that rippled through her whole body and made her shriek in joyous laughter loud enough to echo down to the streets below. Everyone would know now. That she left him. That she had become a BBC addict. That she would rather fuck a dog than fuck him. To make matters worse, going by the many responses and reposts the video got everywhere, they all approved. “Kana was been made to be blacked.” When even the dog was finished with her, the black studs left her on the balcony lying in a pool of filthy juices, drooling and shivering from the debased treatment that she had received. Kana came and slipped out of consciousness, each time just enough to enjoy the tug of her collar and the orgasms that traveled the whole length of her body. She curled her toes, whimpering with a pleased smile on her face as she felt the flow of hot cum deep inside her womb. Finally… Finally, I’ve been bred. She reached down and scooped up fresh seed on her finger, then brought it lick it off and suck on it like a little girl enjoying candy. It tastes so nice and so sweet. And soon it would come to life inside of her, gifting her a wonderful black offspring that she could show to everyone. Was there anything better than submitting to BBC? Nothing. And to think she had almost gotten married… What a mistake that would’ve been. A terrible mistake. She wondered where the guys and the cameraman had gone. Likely, to breed another eager German girl now that they were here. Ah, at least I was first… Thank you so much, my patrons… she thought happily, carried once again into a sleepy state. I couldn’t have done this without you. Only when she got up the following morning and inspected herself in the mirror, did she notice the Queen of Spades tattoo that been left on her for-now flat tummy. Kana cried intensely, surprised that they could’ve been so thoughtful. She caressed it for a time, dreaming of the next time she would be blacked. Then, she went to grab her phone, excited to share the finding with her loyal followers.

#bbc #story #interracial

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