#second hand excavator

[seo-baicai]

What to pay attention to when purchasing a second hand excavator

When it comes to purchasing a second hand excavator, it's not a decision to be taken lightly. There are numerous factors that need careful consideration to ensure you make a wise investment and get a machine that meets your requirements and expectations.

The first and foremost aspect is the overall condition of the second hand excavator. Thoroughly inspect the exterior for signs of heavy wear, rust, or damage. Check for dents, cracks, and paint peeling, as these could indicate previous accidents or improper handling. The undercarriage is crucial too; look for excessive wear on the tracks and sprockets.

The engine is the heart of the excavator. Listen carefully for any unusual noises when it's started. Check for smoke emissions, as excessive white, black, or blue smoke can signify engine problems. Inspect the oil and coolant levels and look for any leaks. A well-maintained engine should start smoothly and run without significant vibrations.

The hydraulic system is another critical component. Test the movement of the boom, arm, and bucket to ensure they operate smoothly and without any jerks or delays. Look for leaks in the hydraulic hoses and cylinders. Weak or uneven hydraulic pressure can lead to operational inefficiencies and costly repairs down the line.

The interior of the cabin is also worth inspecting. Check the functionality of all the controls and gauges. Ensure the seat is in good condition and the operator has a comfortable and safe working environment. The air conditioning and heating systems should also be tested, especially if you'll be working in extreme temperatures.

It's essential to know the history of the second hand excavator. Ask for maintenance records to understand how well the machine has been cared for. Find out how many hours it has been in operation and what kind of work it has been used for. A machine that has been used in demanding conditions might have more wear and tear.

Also, consider the brand and model of the excavator. Some brands are known for their durability and reliability, while certain models might have common issues or parts that are difficult to source. Research and compare different options to make an informed choice.

Another important factor is the price. While a lower price might seem attractive, it could also indicate potential problems or a machine that's nearing the end of its useful life. Get quotes from multiple sellers and compare prices, but don't compromise on quality for the sake of a few dollars.

Finally, it's advisable to have a professional mechanic or someone experienced in excavators inspect the machine before making a purchase. Their expertise can spot issues that might not be obvious to an untrained eye.

In conclusion, purchasing a second hand excavator requires a detailed and meticulous approach. By paying attention to these key factors, you can increase the chances of finding a reliable and cost-effective machine that serves your needs for years to come.

[tyin-meng]

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[gainjoysvehicle]

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Mechanical Vehicle & Machinery

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Machinery refers to any type of equipment or device that uses mechanical or electrical power to perform a specific task. Examples of machinery include tractors, bulldozers, Tower Crane, construction equipment, and factory machines.

The term "machinery vehicle" is a general term that refers to any type of vehicle that is equipped with machinery or tools to perform a specific task. This can include construction vehicles such as bulldozers, excavators, Road Roller, and cranes, as well as agricultural vehicles such as tractors, harvesters, and plows. Machinery vehicles are designed to be highly versatile and can be outfitted with different attachments to handle a variety of tasks. They are commonly used in construction, agriculture, mining, and other heavy industries where a lot of manual labor is required.

Advantages of Machinery Vehicles

The advantages of machinery vehicles include increased efficiency and productivity, reduced manual labour, improved safety, increased reliability and accuracy, and cost savings. They can also perform tasks that are too dangerous or physically demanding for human workers, allowing for more complexes and challenging work to be accomplished.

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[used-excavator]

Second-hand Caterpillar 323D2L excavator

[southwestglobal]

Tips for Inspecting a Used Excavator Before You Buy

Buying a used excavator can be a great way to save money while still getting the machinery you need. However, it's crucial to inspect the machine thoroughly before making a purchase. A proper inspection can help you avoid costly repairs and ensure that you're getting a good deal.

Why Choose a Used Excavator?

Used excavators can be a cost-effective alternative to buying new. They have a lower upfront cost and can offer significant savings on depreciation. Plus, if maintained properly, they can perform just as well as a new machine.

Essential Tools for Inspection

Before you begin, gather some essential tools like a flashlight, inspection mirror, gloves, and a notepad. These tools will help you perform a detailed inspection.

Inspecting the Excavator's Exterior

Check for Structural Damage

Look for any cracks, welds, or other signs of damage on the frame and boom. Structural damage can indicate heavy use or past accidents.

Look for Signs of Rust or Corrosion

Examine areas prone to rust, such as the undercarriage and joints. Rust can weaken the machine's integrity and lead to future problems.

Examine the Paint and Bodywork

Check for paint overspray or mismatched colors, which could indicate repairs. Consistent paint suggests that the machine has been well-maintained.

Assessing the Engine and Hydraulics

Engine Condition and Oil Leaks

Open the engine compartment and inspect for oil leaks or other fluid leaks. Start the engine to listen for unusual noises like knocking or sputtering, which could indicate internal issues.

Hydraulic System Performance

Inspect hoses and cylinders for leaks, cracks, or wear. Test the hydraulic system by moving the boom, stick, and bucket to ensure smooth operation.

Fluid Levels and Quality

Check the levels of hydraulic fluid, engine oil, and coolant. Look at the fluid color and consistency; milky or discolored fluids can indicate contamination or neglect.

Evaluating the Undercarriage

Tracks and Track Tension

Inspect the tracks for wear, cracks, or missing parts. Proper track tension is crucial for the machine's stability and performance.

Rollers and Idlers

Check the condition of the rollers, idlers, and sprockets. Excessive wear on these components can lead to costly repairs.

Look for Excessive Wear

Look for uneven wear patterns, which could indicate alignment issues or improper use.

Testing the Boom, Stick, and Bucket

Check for Cracks or Welds

Inspect the boom, stick, and bucket for any cracks, dents, or welds. Repairs in these areas can be a red flag for heavy usage or damage.

Bucket Teeth and Edges

Examine the bucket teeth and cutting edges for wear. Worn teeth can affect digging efficiency and indicate the machine's overall usage.

Smoothness of Operation

Operate the boom, stick, and bucket to check for smoothness and responsiveness. Jerky movements can indicate hydraulic issues.

Inspecting the Cab and Controls

Operator Comfort and Visibility

Sit in the cab to assess comfort and visibility. A comfortable operator's seat and clear visibility are crucial for safe operation.

Control Panel and Electronics

Test all the controls and switches to ensure they are functioning properly. Check the display panel for any error codes or warning lights.

Seat Condition and Safety Features

Inspect the seat for wear and tear, and ensure that safety features like seat belts and emergency shut-offs are in good working order.

Checking the Maintenance History

Service Records and Logs

Ask for the machine's maintenance records and logs. Regular servicing is a good sign that the previous owner took care of the machine.

Past Repairs and Modifications

Review any past repairs or modifications to understand the machine's history. Major repairs could indicate underlying issues.

Testing the Excavator in Action

Functional Test Drive

If possible, take the excavator for a test drive. Pay attention to how it handles, accelerates, and brakes.

Listen for Unusual Noises

During the test drive, listen for any unusual noises like grinding or clunking, which could indicate mechanical problems.

Evaluate the Machine's Performance

Test the machine's performance in different operations, like digging, lifting, and swinging. It should operate smoothly without any delays or hesitations.

Verifying Legal and Documentation

Ownership and Title

Verify the ownership documents and title to ensure there are no liens or legal issues with the machine.

Insurance and Warranty

Check if the machine has any remaining warranty or if the previous owner had it insured. This information can add value to your purchase.

Consulting a Professional Mechanic

Even if you have some knowledge about excavators, it's always a good idea to have a professional mechanic inspect the machine. They can provide a detailed report and identify issues you might have missed.

Negotiating the Price

Use Inspection Findings for Leverage

Use the information gathered during the inspection to negotiate a better price. Point out any issues or necessary repairs to justify a lower offer.

Fair Market Value Research

Research the fair market value of similar used excavators to ensure you're getting a reasonable deal.

Conclusion

Inspecting a used excavator before buying is a crucial step to ensure you’re making a sound investment. By following these tips, you can avoid potential pitfalls and find a machine that meets your needs and budget. Remember, a thorough inspection now can save you a lot of time and money in the future.

visit - https://www.southwest-global.com/construction-equipment/used-excavators/

[generaltips2312]

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[markalison231]

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[hammerconstruction]

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[flowerandblood]

The Lost Haven (7/16)

[ modern mafia • Aemond x niece • female ]

[ warnings: uprotected sex, incest obviously, smut, the angst, manipulation (partly unintentional), violent description of suicide attempt (blood), injection of a sleeping drug, violence, imprisoning, uncomfortable conversations, bad, bad things ]

[ description: The vacation from eight years ago still haunts his memories and doesn't let him forget what happened between him and his niece, the daughter of his sister and Harwin Strong. Their paths separate and he immerses himself in his father's mafia world until the day she calls him for the first time since those events. Sexual tension, dark, dangerous, withdrawn, thirsty Aemond. ]

Author’s note: As promised, this is another, this time official modern version of The Fall from the Heavens. In this version, Daemon is not related to the family, but is simply Rhaenyra's husband and the leader of the second gang, Alys and Larys are also not related to each other, but Larys is Harwin's brother. I will partly refer to the original series, hiding some easter eggs, and some will be a completely new, fresh plot. As in every universe, only Aemond calls her Rhaenys and this is not her real name (she is unnamed character and the others also do not know that he calls her that). There will be a lot more brutality and angst in this version, so watch out. You can read this as a standalone story.

Series & Characters Moodboard Aemond & Rhaenys Moodboard

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

He could have become a father.

Could was the key word in his life: he could do a lot of things theoretically, but for the most part the line between what was accessible to him and what was not was clearly drawn.

He couldn't escape the world that was consuming him.

He couldn't change who he was.

He couldn't marry his niece, at least in the light of social morality.

But he could become the father of her child because she hadn't taken the pill.

This news thrilled him so much that for a moment he forgot that his own father was dead.

And the complications that came with it.

Looking at his body in the morgue, he thought that perhaps a good thing had happened: Viserys looked sick and tired, his face expressing relief.

He was with his first wife now, the one he really loved, he thought with regret, and felt a squeeze in his heart, seeing his niece's face in his mind then, as she laid beneath him, panting loudly, seared, warm and wet only for him.

He grunted, shifting from foot to foot, recognising that he shouldn't be thinking about it right now.

Only Rhaenyra, Helaena and his mother wept over his body.

Neither he nor Aegon shed a single tear.

The next day he felt excited like a small child and terrified at the same time: it was the first time he was to see the University from the inside, to talk to the professor and on top of that, to see her, again.

If it worked out, they would study together.

Perhaps they would even go on excavations, just like when they were children.

Maybe there was some part of their lives that they could get back.

He texted her that he would come and was relieved when he spotted her silhouette waiting for him in the car park. As soon as he stepped out of the car he felt uncertainty and fear, wondering if this was a good idea.

What if his grandfather found out?

If he was putting her and himself in danger?

He involuntarily reached into the pocket of his jacket, wanting to soothe himself with a cigarette.

"There's no smoking allowed on University premises." She said, furrowing her brow, making his hand drop in a gesture of helplessness and impatience.

"Are you fucking serious?"

"Yes. Let's go. We'll find my professor in the teachers' common room, he's just having a break between lectures." She sighed, ignoring his tone and demeanour, moving ahead.

He had to admit that the whole campus impressed him: the lawns and the huge park around which the gigantic nineteenth-century brick building towered were full of students sitting on the grass, reading books and talking to each other.

They had no worries except their exams, he thought regretfully, concluding that they didn't even know how lucky they were.

The conversation with the professor was overwhelming for him: he had never been able to find himself talking to strangers, even less so when he couldn't leave or defend himself when he heard a difficult question.

The man sitting in front of him was not a man transporting cocaine by ship, but an old man with big glasses who was telling him that if he were able to participate in the excavations, part-time studies would be possible for him.

"Well, if that's the case, then please prepare yourself for the exams. Then we'll see what comes of it." Said the professor and stood up, nodding, letting them know that their meeting was over.

"Is that it?" He asked in disbelief, looking at her with big eyes, wondering if it was a joke, but she only smiled.

"Yes." She replied. "Thank you, Professor."

As they left, he felt discomfort at the thought that he didn't know how to act. He guessed that he had interrupted her class and should leave, but that meant there was no telling when he would see her again.

He wanted to simply spend some time with her, but he didn't know how.

"If you'd like, I'll wait and drive you home." He said offhandedly, glancing at the poster hanging on the wall right next to him, hiding his hands in his trousers so she wouldn't see them tremble.

She blinked and looked at him, surprised.

"No need. Mum will pick me up." She muttered quietly, as if embarrassed. He felt an unpleasant sting of disappointment at her words and in a subconscious reflex he wanted to hurt her because of it, if only a little, to be sure she felt what he felt.

"They pick you up and drop you off like a little girl?" He asked with a sneer, glancing at her, but the smirk disappeared from his face when he noticed the way she looked at him.

She was angry and bored.

"Ever since someone put a rape pill into my drink, yes." She said coldly, and he froze, thinking he was an awful person.

How could he forget about it, say something so ill-considered after what had happened to her?

He suddenly realised how it worked in his mind, how he reacted involuntarily to pain wanting to automatically cause it to another person, even if they didn't deserve it.

This thought terrified him.

Some part of him wanted to make it up to her, to prove that there was a part of him that wanted to change.

"Do you know who did this? I can take care of it. For your comfort." He asked, feigning indifference, involuntarily scratching his chin, unable to look her in the face.

"Larys Strong."

He looked at her, furrowing his brow.

"What?"

"I already told you. He was telling me about my father."

"But it wasn't him who put it into your drink, it was one of his people, right?"

"He asked me if I wanted a drink. I said no. Then he ordered water for me. I took a few sips from it and struggled to get to the bathroom."

He looked at her, feeling how slowly a picture that seemed to him to be just scattered shards suddenly came together, the fact that Larys had dragged her there was never supposed to be an accident, and his grandfather knew about it.

This is the last time you interfere in their affairs.

They hoped she'd call for Daemon.

That, knowing his explosive nature, there would be a shootout in which they would kill her step-father before Viserys died, so that he and his half-sister's businesses could then be easily taken over.

"Son of a bitch." He hissed out, feeling that he was breathing heavily through his mouth, that his hands were clenched into fists, that his heart was pounding like mad.

Only after a moment did he realise that his niece was looking at him with big eyes, horrified that what was happening in his mind had not escaped her attention.

"Don't interfere. Go home." She said, making him feel a squeeze in his heart for some reason.

"And when are you going to teach me?" He mouthed, realising only after a moment that he sounded like a little boy. She shook her head, as if she didn't understand what he was saying.

"What?"

"For the exams. I need you to help me. How do I reconcile what I have to do at night with studying if I don't know where to start?"

He watched as she sighed heavily and ran her hand over her face, praying that she would agree, that she would not abandon him, that she would not leave him in the dark room that was his heart.

His little lamp.

Yes, he thought, feeling a pleasant, gentle warmth in his chest.

That's what she was to him.

"Okay. Okay, I'll help you. I'll pass you the study books somehow." She decided at last, distraught and tired, making him swallow loudly with relief as he looked down at her.

He wanted to touch her.

He wanted to embrace her, to kiss her, but it seemed inappropriate.

Not after what he'd done to her.

"Can I touch your hand?" He asked in a trembling voice, feeling like an idiot, a weak, quivering child begging for a moment's attention, a moment's tenderness.

She looked at him in a way from which his throat tightened with affection, her hand extended towards him made him grasp it in his own.

He watched, breathing hard, elated as his fingers entwined with hers in a pleasant, soft embrace, her skin warm, smooth and soft, exactly as he remembered it.

He felt both moved and aroused at the same time by this sight, by the feeling of her bare body in a way that was not purely sexual, yet so intimate, private, reserved only for someone close to her.

"Walk me out." He whispered.

To his delight, she didn't let go of his hand until they reached his car. He couldn't find the words to say goodbye or thank her for what she'd done, feeling only shame, so he just got in the car and drove away.

He knew it was wrong.

He knew it was wrong and he couldn't stop.

The forbidden fruit tempts most, he remembered her words and swallowed hard, driving ahead in silence, wondering if that was indeed all this was about.

The thought that maybe not terrified him, because it meant that there would be no moment in his life when he could let her go, allowing her to live at last.

It meant that he would devour her, choke her in his own darkness.

The next day, everyone was nervous: the meeting with the notary was going to be groundbreaking. Otto was certain that Viserys had divided his wealth equally between each of his children, which would mean that Rhaenyra's share would also belong to Daemon.

"I don't think he would leave his daughter the brothels or the clubs where the crimes took place to avoid burdening her. This means that a real estate company and our money laundering business could fall to her. We will have to make steps to take it over, peacefully or not." Said his grandfather when he spotted him standing by his car alone having a cigarette.

He nodded, feeling discomfort and uncertainty, not knowing what he should answer.

"You are not yourself since the death of your father. What's happening to you?" Otto asked, looking at him with a raised eyebrow, making him press his lips together in displeasure.

Another fucking interrogation?

"I'm tired." He said coldly, taking a drag on his cigarette impatiently, looking at his family home, wondering if his father would take it away from his mother.

"Where were you the night he died? When Aegon woke up, you were not in the room."

He froze in mid-motion, letting out a loud puff of smoke through his nose, feeling his lower lip begin to tremble, his heart and stomach clenched in fear.

He couldn't remember if he had ever felt peace.

Maybe then, that night, when he felt the warmth of her body and fell asleep beside her, drunk and happy, he thought with regret.

"With my niece."

Otto laughed low, shaking his head.

"This is no time for jokes, Aemond. I don't want you to hide anything from me." He said slowly and calmly, as if trying to explain something to a small child.

He looked at him in a way from which his grandfather's expression changed, twisting in a grimace of shock and disbelief.

"Good God. What did you do to her?" He mouthed.

He grinned involuntarily at his question in a way from which Otto swallowed hard and clenched his eyes.

"Have you completely lost your mind? What has that poor girl done to you, hm? What if she tells her parents, accuses you in front of everyone? For God's sake, you're her uncle." He hissed quietly, stepping close to him and looking around, as if he wanted to make sure no one could hear him.

For some reason his dismay, his disgust, his disappointment gave him satisfaction.

The fact that he was arousing such feelings in him and other people seemed to him the most natural state he knew.

"We were just talking. About the past and the future." He lied, knowing that his grandfather didn't believe him, that he'd seen in his gaze what he'd done to her, what he'd done to her twice, and how fucking pleasurable it had been for him.

He decided that he wouldn't try to explain to him that she had peaked with him each time.

He wouldn't believe him anyway.

"We'll talk later." He hissed as his mother, Helaena and Aegon came out of their house, saying they were ready.

When they arrived Daemon and Rhaenyra were already waiting for them inside in a large, spacious office with windows overlooking the great city skyline. The notary greeted them, offered them coffee and tea, and then showed them to their seats.

He tried not to look at Daemon, feeling his gaze on him, knowing what he thought of him and that he had every right to do so.

He felt bad about it, but fuck, he wanted to be close to her and have a family with her.

He wanted to be able to love her.

Just her, just this one time in his life.

Was he asking for so much?

The notary, in the presence of the lawyers of both parties, unsealed the envelope in which was secured his father's last will, which he knew he had consulted with his grandfather.

Nevertheless, he felt anxious, felt the cold sweat on his back, a complete, tense silence all around them.

And then he began to read.

"I, Viserys Targaryen, present my last will as follows. I bequeath our family home to my wife, Alicent Targaryen, which will belong to her until her death, and then pass according to her will to one of our children. I bequeath all my other estates and properties to my children Aegon, Aemond, Helaena and Daeron to be shared equally between them. All of my investments and all premises under my business that I owned I pass to my daughter, Rhaenyra."

He stared at him dully, feeling as if he had gone completely deaf, his heart beginning to pound like mad as his hand clenched into a fist, his grandfather beside him twisting in his chair, shocked.

"This is some kind of misunderstanding." Otto said, on the other side Daemon laughed out loud, hiding his face with his hands.

He mocked them, he thought.

His father had mocked them for the last time.

He didn't understand why he felt tears burning under his eyelids, why his lips were trembling, why he expected anything else.

His appreciation, his trust, a gesture that would indicate that he understood what he was doing to ensure the well-being of their family.

Did he really think that he was taking money out of people by force, that he was cutting their faces to please his grandfather?

Yet it meant nothing.

Everything he did, everything he became apparently only made his father disgusted.

Because he was disgusting.

They all were.

"Unbelievable. We're not going to leave it like that. I'm sure this is Daemon's doing. FUCK!" Growled his grandfather, sitting in the passenger seat beside him, slapping his palms against the dashboard of his car.

He drove ahead, feeling a complete emptiness, feeling neither disappointment nor anger, wondering if he should pull over and hit one of the trees.

He wanted his father to see him as a cold, unbreakable man, one who would always defend his and his family's interests, one who could make sacrifices.

And he didn't even notice it.

All the wicked things he did turned out to be worthless.

He destroyed himself for nothing.

He had nothing.

In his mind, in his heart, in his wallet.

A fucking property by the sea.

"We will attack their family. If our clients find out, no one in the industry will care about us. We have to show strength, we have to act." Otto said, and he swallowed hard, feeling the cold sweat on his back.

We will attack their family.

We have to act.

His grandfather called a meeting in his office, which was to be attended by him, his brother and his mother. He paced around the room gesticulating, speaking quickly, Aegon as well as his mother sat in their seats flooded with tears.

He thought they looked pathetic.

"We need to give him a warning. Force him to come out with another, more acceptable offer for us." Said Otto, circling the room with his hands placed on his hips, analysing everything.

"You saw him. He laughed. He knows that he won." Mumbled Aegon, all swollen from crying.

Otto stopped and pressed his lips together.

"Leave me and Aemond alone." He said finally, making him freeze, his heart pounding like crazy.

Some premonition told him what he would want from him even before it left his mouth.

He was not mistaken, and as soon as his mother and brother left, his grandfather began to speak.

"Does Rhaenyra's daughter trust you?"

He stared dully ahead, answering him with a protracted, uncomfortable silence, feeling like throwing up for some reason.

"Aemond."

"No."

"No, what?"

"Don't drag her into this."

His grandfather pressed his lips together, leaning over him, resting his hands on his armrests.

"She's been dragged into this for a long time. If we don't take our chances, someone else will." He said calmly, making him feel an unpleasant sting in his heart.

"You knew."

"What?"

"That Larys had plans for her."

"I knew that he would act. Daemon's presence on the scene isn't to his liking."

"He put a fucking rape pill into her drink." He said coldly, clenching his hands into fists.

"It wasn't about rape there, at least that's my opinion. However, now, if he sends his people to her University, I cannot vouch for what will happen to her. With us she will be safe. We would lock her in a room in our house for a few days and treat her with respect as if she were our guest. My issue is with Daemon and Rhaenyra, not with her. Her harm is not my desire."

He looked at him, feeling a void in his mind, no longer knowing for himself what he thought of this, what was right and what was not.

"Are you going to let everything you've worked so hard for be taken away from you? For this man to laugh in our faces? What are we to use to maintain the estates your father left you? Even if we sell some of it, how many years will it last? We have to think about our future. I trust you to do the right thing."

He pressed his lips together, swallowing hard, thinking with disbelief that if he didn't, the part of himself that he had lost, that he had killed to become who he was, would turn out to be a sacrifice in vain.

Some part of him naively wanted to believe that she would understand.

"Only me and Helaena will have access to her room. I will be by her side the entire time, and my duties for that period will be taken over by someone else."

Otto smiled in a way from which he felt discomfort in his stomach and nodded, patting him on the shoulder.

"That's my boy."

He looked at his phone, at the message he'd sent her while sitting in his car two streets from her house, wondering how he could be doing this to her.

She wanted to help him change, she made an attempt.

Perhaps she was pregnant.

Hundreds of feelings mixed in his head, fear, grief, disgust, sadness, hatred and despair devoured him from the inside, forming one black mass from his thoughts.

She's not coming, he thought with a strange calmness.

She was not naive.

Daemon had certainly warned her not to trust them.

He'll return home and tell his grandfather that it just didn't work out.

But what will happen to them then?

They will have nothing to buy new goods with, or they will buy them, but they will have to raise their prices.

They will stop being competitive in the business.

They will lose customers.

They will go out of the game.

They will cease to count.

They will have no way to pay the police.

They will go to prison.

He shuddered, hearing rustling and someone's footsteps, his eyes big when he saw her breathless, flushed figure, her dark, loose hair in disarray.

She looked so beautiful.

He opened the door, unable to believe that she'd run away for him, just for him, watching as she pulled her backpack down quickly and handed it to him.

"Take this and get out of here." She muttered, but he only looked at her lips, parted in accelerated breath, soft and full.

He thought with horror that he wanted to feel her.

He wanted to be reassured.

He wanted to make love to her.

"– come here –"

"– I have to –"

"– come –"

"– I –"

"– it won't take long –"

Her gaze full of warmth, affection and trust, her parted lips, her hand that allowed him to pull her closer made him feel like his cock would explode with desire.

"– good girl – such a good girl –" He praised her when she sat on his lap at last, closing the door behind her. He slided his hands to his belt, panting hard, releasing his fat, long erection, leaking with desire at the mere sight of her.

He could only watch in disbelief as she took off her shorts, wordlessly allowing her to guide the thick, glistening head of his manhood against her slit, all pulsing with heat, slowly sinking it into her body.

He gasped at the ease with which she welcomed him into her warm, moist interior, how simple and proper it seemed.

It made him forget for a moment who he was and what he was supposed to do.

All that mattered was her, her face, her eyes, her forehead pressed against his, her warm buttocks under his fingers, her swollen, sweet lips, her slick tongue invading between his teeth, her little cunt that convulsed around his throbbing cock in ecstasy.

"– fuck – fuck, baby –" He muttered, unable to express otherwise how good she made him feel, why his hips were pounding into her so fast and so greedily, why he couldn't slow down, why he wanted it so desperately.

"– ah – G-God –" She mumbled, making him gasp, pleasant, tickling warmth in his lower abdomen.

Her soaked pussy squeezed and sucked him inside, making him pant loudly into her puffy lips, feeling his whole body grow hot, in some subconscious, natural reflex returning to where he felt good, where he felt safe: back deep, deep inside her.

He knew it wasn't just about sex: there was too much tenderness in in their movements, the touch of their hands too thoughtful and too gentle, too soft, their embrace too close, too intimate, their moans too helpless, too vulnerable.

"– Aemond –" She mewled into his throat on the brink of orgasm, bringing her clenching, moist, fleshy walls to the point where he felt a squeeze in his testicles, indicating that he was close too.

"– do you hear it? – do you hear how well you take me? – only you – fuck –" He gasped, listening to what he was doing to her, to his own niece, how loudly her sweet, little cunt clicked as he rooted into her again and again, how perfect she squeezed his cock, how warm she was, how wet she was, for him, only for him.

"– where? –" He muttered, wanting to be more responsible this time, slamming into her with a quick, sharp, deep thrusts of his hips, helplessly chasing his own fulfillment that he so desperately needed.

He didn't want to hurt her.

Never.

"– here – right here, uncle –" She breathed out and something in her words, in the way she said them made his body quiver as he reached his peak inside her, panting hard along with her. He gasped, resting his head against the backrest, trying to be quiet, feeling their bodies pulsate and shiver against each other.

He snuggled her face to his neck, feeling a wonderful pleasure and relief as his warm seed filled her insides at last, her scent, her closeness, her hot, pulsing interior calming him.

It felt so good.

So right.

"– I think I'm in love with you –" He whispered in a trembling voice, stroking her bare buttock with one hand, sliding the other between the seat and the gearbox, feeling the needle syringe under his fingers, from which he slipped the cap.

I'm sorry.

He heard her draw in a loud breath at his words, but he didn't let her answer.

He was afraid he would change his mind then.

"– forgive me –" He mumbled in trembling voice, heartbroken, her body tensed all over as he jabbed the needle into her neck and let the sleeping drug spread through her insides.

She whined quietly, terrified and surprised, reminding him of a small, innocent animal. He embraced her, feeling the remedy take effect after a moment, and her body relaxed in his embrace, a faint, weak cry escaping from her lips.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

I'm sorry.

"– shhh – shhh, sweet girl –" He hushed her tenderly, feeling his whole body tremble as tears of shame, disgust and regret ran down his cheeks along with the knowledge of what he had just done to her, his soft manhood still pulsing deep inside her.

He used her because she trusted him, because she wanted to help him, because she really cared about him.

He sobbed quietly, closing his eyes, and cuddled his face against her neck, feeling her fall asleep, thinking that he wanted to take it back, that it was a mistake, a mistake, a mistake, that he just wanted her to forgive him.

Maybe he could carry her home?

Leave her at the gate and run away?

But what if someone found her unconscious, what if she fell ill from the cold, what if someone abused her in his absence, hurt her?

He realised that there was no way back.

Despite this realisation, he treated her body with gentleness and tenderness: he lifted her and slid out of her slowly, placing her shorts over her hips, laying her on the seat beside him, fastening her seatbelt. He took the unruly strands of hair from her face with his trembling hand, looking at her through tears, whooping with his own cry.

He thought she would never forgive him for this.

When he got home he went inside through the back door, carrying her in his arms, cradling her to his chest. He told his bodyguards that no one was to disturb him, ordering them to inform his grandfather that everything was sorted out.

"Aemond?" He heard his mother's voice behind him and stopped in half-step, looking at her over his shoulder with big eyes.

His mother was looking at him with her mouth open, disbelief and horror in her gaze.

"– Aemond – what is she doing here? –" She muttered, placing her hand on her chest, trying to calm herself down, breathing loudly as if she were going into some kind of panic attack.

"– we'll sort it out, Mum – don't worry –" He whispered. His mother furrowed her brow and shook her head.

"– you kidnapped an innocent child –" She said with regret and pain from which he felt a squeeze in his throat.

She was disgusted with him.

He understood her.

He longed for her to think of him like that.

He desired to suffer.

"– yes –"

He took her to the room where he had spent his entire youth until he moved into his flat and laid her gently on his bed, sitting down beside her, covering her carefully with the duvet. His hand rose slowly and hesitantly to finally stroke her soft hair, her face calm, immersed in deep sleep.

Vhagar, whom he had taken with him from his place, rose from the floor and ran up to them, sniffing him and the newcomer he had laid in his bed.

"– good girl – you will watch over her with me now, hm? –" He asked, stroking her soft fur.

Vhagar squealed, shifting from paw to paw beside him, concerned, as if she sensed that her sleeping state was not natural, something in her scent, in the drug he had given her made his dog restless.

Even she knew what he had done to her, he thought with regret.

He pulled off his shoes and placed them on the ground, laying down beside his niece, putting his arm around her. He pressed his forehead against hers, inhaling deeply her scent, letting his fingers run over the soft skin of her cheek, thinking that he was surely doing this for the last time in his life.

He felt a sting in his heart at that thought, his eyebrows arched in pain as he pressed her body against his, weaving his hand into her hair, burying her head in his neck, trying to calm himself.

"– I will always watch over you –"

In the morning he was awakened by her babbling: she was mumbling something under her breath, her hand clenched on the material of his black Tshirt, he could feel her trying to stand.

"– shhh – lie down – don't get up –" He whispered in a trembling voice, feeling only horror, only despair, only shame.

She would never forgive him for this.

"– where – mghmm –" She muttered, involuntarily falling into his arms again, recognising him and his scent, her fingers closed on his back, snuggling into him in a tender embrace from which he felt his body begin to quiver.

"– easy – easy, little one –" He said, kissing the top of her head again and again, her hair wonderfully soft and smooth under his hand.

"– what's happened? –" She asked, and he remained silent, as he had no idea what to answer her.

His lack of words clearly worried her, for she raised herself on her arm again: she looked around, her gaze hazy, dreamy, her brow furrowed as she did not recognise where she was.

"– Aemond – what's going on? –" She asked wearily, slowly understanding that something was wrong, her breathing louder and heavier, her eyes large and filled with fear.

He lifted himself onto his arm, moving closer to her, his free hand stroking her cheek as he pressed his forehead to her temple.

"– forgive me –" He whispered in a weak, trembling voice, thinking he sounded pathetic.

She sucked in a deep breath and squealed, covering her mouth with her hand as if trying to stop the sound, her eyelids clenched shut as she cried out loud, bursting into tears.

"– oh, baby –" He muttered pleadingly, kissing her red, plump cheek, embracing her tightly despite her hands trying to push him away. "– it will only last a few days, I promise –"

She pulled out of his embrace, moving away to the other end of the bed, looking at him with wide eyes, catching her head with her hands as if she couldn't believe what was happening, her mouth parted wide in a heavy, terrified breath.

"– I – I let you – you touched me, and then you – oh God – oh my God, no no no no no no –" She whimpered hiding her head between her knees, wrapping her arms around herself as if she was trying to create a fortress, and he could only sit and watch, trying to remember that he needed to breathe.

"– we just need to talk to Daemon – I promise no one will hurt you –" He muttered quickly, but it seemed to him that she wasn't listening to him, plunged into complete hysteria.

"– I helped you – I ran away for you – I brought you books just as you asked – so why did you do this to me? –" She mumbled out, choking on her own tears, her fingers clenched on her hair as if she wanted to rip it out.

He felt like he was drowning, like he was sinking deeper and deeper to the depths with every breath.

"– I know – I know, baby, I'm so sorry – but my father left us no choice – fuck, I know you understand me –" He choked out with difficulty, looking at her hopefully, for some reason naively believing that she would find justification in her heart for his horrible act.

She, however, looked at him dully and froze, her trembling hands raised at the level of her cheeks, her lips parted in a half-breath.

He was sure that she was going to say something, that she was going to shout in his face that she hated him, that he was a monster, a nobody, a disgusting creature, everything that he so needed to hear in order to find himself in the state to which he always returned in the end.

She, however, turned her back to him, hugging her body and face to the wall, tucking her legs under her chin and froze so still.

"– Rhaenys? – please – please, say something – I didn't mean to hurt you, I swear –" He mumbled, trying to touch her calf, but she flinched and moved further away from him, as if his touch had burned her.

He burst into sobs, thinking that her silence, her wordless rejection was worse than any word from her, and he was like a child who longed for the parent he had failed to look at him with a sympathetic eye again.

"– please – please, say something –"

But she said nothing.

For the next few days she did not look at him, she did not answer his questions, and when he tried to touch her she moved as far away as possible, hiding her head between her knees.

He took away her phone out of fear that she would try to contact someone and all the things out of his room that she could use to hurt herself or others.

She ate and drank only the things Helaena brought her.

When he tried to feed her, she would snatch things from his hand and throw them at the wall.

On the one hand he felt rage at that moment, a subconscious need to hurt and punish her, and on the other he felt relieved because he wanted to suffer, because he knew he deserved it.

"– you have to eat –" He sighed, looking indifferently at the big stain of soup on the wall and the shards of the broken bowl thinking it was them.

Like the shards that couldn't be put back together again.

"– what did it feel like, cutting their faces? – did you feel like the Mighty Vhagar then? –"

Her voice, cold and harsh surprised him and made his heart stand in his throat, his body stop breathing for a moment, as if expressing its desire to die of shame.

He looked at her out of the corner of his eye, feeling that he was trembling, and met her gaze, sad, tired, aloof, embittered.

"– I had no choice –"

Lie.

"– you are lying –" She stated dispassionately. "– I don't want to see or hear you – I want you to pretend that you don't exist, just like you did with me for eight years – you're good at it –"

He lowered his gaze, feeling a complete void in his mind at her words, and got out of bed, kneeling on the floor to pick up the pieces of the broken bowl as if nothing had happened.

The only being she touched was Vhagar.

He watched from the sidelines as these two slowly established a relationship with each other. His niece would reach out to her, lying on his bed, and his dog would lean out and sniff her from afar without touching her, looking at her with big eyes.

Vhagar did not like strangers and was fussy, but apparently her calm approach and the fact that she did not impose herself on her made his dog express interest in her. When she would get up to reach for one of his books on the shelf, Vhagar would rise and follow her, keeping an appropriate distance, looking at her curiously.

She would lie down in her place only when his niece sat back down on the bed.

He first saw them lying together when he came home late one evening. He had shopped for her, bought her favourite sweets knowing that she would not eat them anyway, and when he walked into the room he saw her lying with Vhagar on her dog bed.

She was crying and cuddling into her fur as if she was a big teddy bear, and his dog, despite the fact that she usually got up at the sight of him, just looked at him with big eyes, not moving from her place.

Something about the sight broke him, and although he knelt down next to his niece and wanted to touch her back, he stopped mid-motion when he heard his dog growl at him for the first time in his life.

She knew.

Daemon and Rhaenyra's fury was great: the very next morning after it turned out that she had disappeared there had been an incident at one of their clubs, where his sister's husband had stormed in with her son and several men, threatening to shoot everyone present if he did not find out where his daughter was.

As planned, it was relayed to him that their child was safe and that Otto was waiting for contact from him when he had cooled down to discuss everything calmly.

As proof that they were not lying, they gave him her backpack – the same one in which she had brought him books.

Due to what happened, after his father's body was burned, there was only a short funeral ceremony in the cemetery, attended only by his mother and sister: his grandfather was afraid that Daemon's men, who had been watching them all the time, would lead to a shooting if they appeared there even for a moment.

Despite his niece's reluctance, he spent his days in her presence, sitting on the mattress on the other side of the room where he slept at night. He knew she didn't want to feel him next to her, but he preferred not to leave her alone knowing how frightened she was.

He suggested several times that they could go out together for a walk in the garden, but she didn't even look at him.

She was simultaneously closer and further away from him than ever before.

One night he was roused from sleep by someone's scream: he pulled himself up on the mattress, involuntarily reaching for the penknife in his sweatpants and looked around the room, only after a moment noticing her shivering figure sitting on his bed.

He sighed quietly and swallowed hard, trying to calm himself.

"– Rhaenys? – Rhaenys, what happened? –" He whispered, and she twitched at his words, turning towards him, looking at him with big eyes, all drenched in tears.

"– did you have a bad dream? –" He muttered, but she answered nothing, her lips parted in a heavy breath, her fingers clenched on the sheets.

"– hey – hey, baby – it's okay –" He whispered, rising slowly from his seat, tentatively approaching the bed. She raised her shoulders in a defensive gesture and moved away a little, but when he sat down next to her and raised his arm she didn't push him away.

Slowly he placed his hand on her shoulder and stroked her skin reassuringly, with the other cuddling her face into his neck.

"– shhh – easy – easy, little one – no one will hurt you –"

She was silent, and he prayed that this moment, her warm body in his embrace, his nose snuggled into her soft, fragrant hair, would last forever.

"– I'm not sure I want to live anymore –" She mumbled out finally, startling him, his stomach knotted tight in discomfort and horror.

"– no – don't say that – it won't take long – my grandfather is in contact with your mother – they will soon come to an agreement and you will return home –" He said, forcing himself to be calm, stroking her shoulder and back with one hand, the other combing his fingers through her hair, rocking her in his arms like a small child.

"– you broke my heart –"

Her words, the way she said them, what they meant made him gasp aloud, trying not to burst into a sudden sob of despair and grief.

He had broken her.

"– forgive me – I regret this like nothing else in my life, I swear – I will spend my life trying to make it up to you –" He muttered, tentatively kissing her warm temple, her cheekbone, her ear, everything that was familiar to him, beloved to him, his.

"– I love you – I love you in every sense of the word –"

"– I don't believe you –"

He pressed his lips together, swallowing hard, feeling a sort of high-pitched, trembling squeal come from his throat as if he were a little girl, tears one by one began to run down his cheeks to the top of her head, his fingers tightening on her delicate flesh.

"– I understand it – and I don't dare ask for it –" He whispered with difficulty, sinking his face into her soft, warm cheek, feeling that he was not the only one who was crying.

Her body trembled in the embrace of his arms, her small hands clenched on his shirt in a gesture that testified at once to her anger and her suffering from which his heart was breaking.

"– that feeling I had inside me was the only thing that allowed me to breathe – and you took it away from me –" She howled into the skin of his neck, and he burst out sobbing at her words, not knowing how he could react differently to what she had said.

"– I love you – I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you so fucking much –" He mumbled out in a breaking voice, cuddling her tightly into him, placing loud, wet, hot kisses on her face, her jaw, her neck, her arms, leaving sticky, wet marks on it.

He heard her sigh full of pain and pleasure, feeling with shame that his erection swelled all over and hardened, pulsing painfully under the material of his sweatpants, betraying how much he longed for her, how much he yearned for her.

Her quiet moan surged through the skin of his neck as his broad hand slipped lower, sliding tentatively under the material of her shirt, touching her naked back at last, her bare skin, making them both tremble, breathing heavier and louder.

"– I love you –" He assured her, running his fingertips over the wonderfully smooth skin of her back, making goosebumps appear in the places he ran his fingers over. Her body snuggled into him tighter, allowing him to feel her breasts hidden under her tshirt against his chest.

"– you hurt me –" She sobbed through her tears in a breaking voice, at which his lips clung even harder to her shoulder, his kisses even more greedy and wet as his lips again and again brushed and teased the delicate structure of her skin.

"– no more – I swear – all I want is you –" He breathed out, feeling lust and desire pulsing through every nook and cranny of his body, filling his lower abdomen with a pleasurable, tickling tension from which his heart pounded like mad.

He moaned helplessly when he finally felt her warm, puffy lips brush his neck, her cheeks wet from tears as his hand pressed her closer.

"– please – please, baby, please –" He mumbled out, wanting only to feel her again, without her being just an empty part of an incomplete whole.

However, as his hand tentatively slid from her back to her buttock, she pulled away from him suddenly as if burned, hugging her back to the wall and shook her head.

"– no – no, no, no, you're doing this to me again –" She cried out loudly, looking at him with big, terrified eyes. He shook his head, heartbroken, leaning down, placing quick, warm kisses on her bare knee, stroking her calf with his palm.

"– no, I swear – I want you so badly –"

"– your grandfather told you to do this? – to soften me up so that in case my mother didn't agree he would get shares in her companies through me? –" She blurted out, wrinkling her eyebrows, breathing loudly. He swallowed hard and shook his head again, shocked, understanding how far her lack of trust went and who she now saw him as.

"– no – I was the one who demanded that I could be by your side – that no one but me could bother you – to make sure you were safe –" He muttered, trying to calm his breathing, feeling like his whole face had swollen from tears.

"– I want to go to sleep – I want to go to sleep –" She mumbled out and turned her back to him, hugging herself to the wall again exactly as she did then, the first time, making him whimper, choking on his own tears. He pressed his face against her back, wailing loudly, his fingers clenched on her waist.

"– I'm sorry – I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry – please, don't reject me – I promise I'll be good now – I'm studying, I'm going to take my exams, I'm going to go to university – please, be there for me – it doesn't matter without you – my life doesn't matter if I can't share it with you –" He whined like an animal into her shirt and heard her weep loudly, but she answered him nothing.

However, she did not push him away or tell him to step back, so he fell asleep cuddled into her body, and the next day she again did not speak to him or look at him as if this conversation had never happened.

In her presence he cried all the time and didn't even hide it anymore.

Looking at her, he saw exactly as if in the reflection of a mirror who he had become and what he had sacrificed.

However, it turned out that his grandfather was partly right in his assumptions: Daemon just wanted to kill them all, but his wife didn't feel like risking her daughter's life for a fortune and was willing to talk to them if they let her see her.

"– tomorrow you will go with us to meet your parents – perhaps we will come to an agreement and you will return home –" He said, swallowing hard, standing over her small figure sitting on the sill of his window, looking out at the setting sun.

Her profile was gentle and pleasant, her eyes surrounded by a fan of dark lashes large and bright, her lips seemed wonderfully soft, full and sweet, made only to be caressed.

She closed her eyes, resting her temple against the glass, and did not even bestow a single glance on him.

He prepared himself for the fact that she would answer him nothing and wanted to sit down on the mattress, going back to reading one of the textbooks she had brought him, but he froze when he heard her voice.

"I'd like to take a bath." She said.

He swallowed hard, looking at her over his shoulder.

"Of course. I'll call Helaena." He replied, wanting to go out into the corridor.

They never left her alone.

For her own safety.

"No." She said and looked at him.

"I want ten minutes alone."

He looked at her, feeling anxiety and doubt in his heart, but he couldn't say no to her.

"Very well. I'll wait by the door."

She nodded and stood up, taking the towel that belonged to her from the chair and went outside. He followed her, walking towards the bathroom next to his room – she looked at him with frustration as he took the key out of the lock and shook his head.

"No. I won't come inside, but I won't let you lock yourself in." He said. She swallowed hard and nodded, and he closed the door behind her.

He leaned against the stair railing, hearing the sound of pouring water, and looked at his watch, sighing heavily.

Ten minutes, no more.

He heard her step into the bath and closed his eyes, thinking that perhaps this was just another ordeal they had to wait through together.

He wanted to believe that she had seen his sadness, shame and remorse, that by his behaviour and calmness he had proved to her that he was capable of being different, for her, only for her.

However, ten minutes passed, then eleven, and she still did not come out of the water.

He didn't want to invade her privacy and make her uncomfortable, but he felt impatient and became concerned that he didn't hear any movement in the room. He walked closer and knocked, sighing heavily.

"– Rhaenys – time's up –" He said matter-of-factly. He pressed his lips together when he heard no sound on the other side and knocked a second time, louder this time.

"– Rhaenys – please –" He sighed, running his hand over his face, deciding that whether she wanted it or not, he had to do it.

"– I'm coming inside – cover yourself –" He said, grabbing the door handle and stepped into the room.

It seemed to him that what he saw before him was some kind of frame from a film, not reality: the snow-white tiles around her head and dark hair, her half-open eyelids and mouth, her hands lying on the edge of the tub, her slit wrists and the crimson water in which she lay, his sister's T-shirt on her body.

He looked down and saw a tiny blade from a bookbinding knife lying on the floor.

For a moment he just stared at it, afraid to move, thinking it wasn't really happening.

"– Rhaenys? –" He muttered, approaching her slowly, but she didn't even flinch, staring ahead as if she was thoughts somewhere far away.

"– Rhaenys, what have you done? –" He mumbled as if he was afraid that if he said the words too loudly they would turn out to be true, and yet it could not be true.

"– God, baby – oh my fucking God –" He whined, pulling her by the shoulders out of the water with a loud splash of red liquid that spilled out.

He sat down on the floor, placing her between his legs, letting her head and back rest against his chest, his fingers tightening on her wrists in an attempt to stop the bleeding.

"– baby, what have you done? – hm? – what have you done? –" He whispered to her ear in a trembling voice, kissing her soft, warm face, feeling the initial shock begin to be replaced by a growing panic and the realisation that this was really happening.

He began to breathe loudly, as he always did when he was terrified and when he needed help calling out to the only person he trusted.

"– MUM! – MUM, HELP ME! –" He shouted like a helpless, broken child and burst into tears, clasping his fingers tighter on her wrists, resting his forehead on her shoulder.

"– oh God, oh God, oh, God, no, no no no, please, baby, please, please, don't leave me –" He whimpered, rocking her in his arms, cradling her to himself, again and again kissing her bare shoulder, her long neck, her sweet cheek.

He heard someone run up the stairs, the screams of his mother and sister at the sight they saw before their eyes made him look at them.

"– Mum –"

Even though he knew his grandfather would be furious, he and his mother called the ambulance. While waiting for the paramedics to arrive, she provisionally bandaged her hands together with Helaena, as well as dressed her in a clean shirt and underwear.

He did not let her out of his arms for a second, and when the ambulance arrived he told his mother that he would go with her.

He looked at her as he sat in the car, feeling his hands were sticky with her blood, thinking it was his fault, his fault, his fault.

She just wanted to run away, she just wanted to go home, but she didn't know how.

He made her do this.

When they arrived at the hospital it turned out that her condition was critical: because of how little she had eaten she had become anaemic and needed a quick blood transfusion.

"– take mine –" He said without thinking, and when the doctor asked him what blood type he had, it turned out that he and she had the same.

He could have done something that mattered.

He could have saved her.

He held her hand, lying on the bed beside him, staring dully at the ceiling, the other clenched again and again on the soft ball as he watched his blood fill the plastic bag.

When the doctor came inside, he asked him about what he had been thinking about for a long time.

"– there's – there's a possibility she's pregnant – and –" He mumbled, not knowing how to put it into words. The man looked at him, surprised.

"– she's definitely not pregnant – the tests didn't show it –" The doctor replied, and he swallowed hard, feeling for some reason a great disappointment and sadness.

If he became the father of her child, he could be a part of her life.

He would have an excuse to talk to her, to see her.

He tightened his fingers around hers, stroking her soft skin with his thumb, trying not to cry, thinking he deserved it.

What child would want to be born into such a world?

When it was all over he informed the doctors who they should contact, giving them his half-sister's phone number. Before he left the room, he handed her back her phone and slipped a letter into her locker, which he wrote hurriedly on a piece of paper with a pen the nurse had lent him.

For his own conscience he waited in the distance, watching as Daemon's Mercedes pulled into the car park, he and Rhaenyra ran inside the building without noticing him. He sighed heavily and licked his lower lip, glancing at his phone, seeing twenty missed calls from his grandfather. He dialled his number and put the phone to his ear, feeling strangely calm and relaxed.

"She's alive?" He heard Otto's voice on the other end.

"Yes." He replied dispassionately.

"Thank God. Why didn't you call for me? You ruined everything. Our doctor would have taken care of it. You…" He continued, but he hung up, not feeling like listening to his smart-ass bullshit.

His mother picked him up from the hospital.

"How is she? Will she survive? Have you contacted Rhaenyra?" She asked quickly as they set off, afraid that anyone would notice them.

He swallowed hard, leaning the back of his head against the backrest, looking at the road with empty eyes.

"I gave her contact details to the hospital staff. They arrived, I saw it with my own eyes. She's safe now." He explained.

His mother breathed out loud, her big brown eyes simultaneously terrified and full of relief.

"You did the right thing, Aemond. No money is worth it. This poor girl." She muttered, shaking her head, trying not to cry and concentrate on driving.

"I destroyed her."

Alicent looked at him, then back at the road, her mouth open slightly in an accelerated breath.

"What do you mean?"

He pressed his lips into a thin line, feeling his brow arch in pain and shame.

"I went to her room the night my father died. We had sex, Mum." He muttered in a breaking voice, covering his face with his hand and burst out crying like a little boy.

His mother sighed loudly, shocked, twisting restlessly in her seat.

"– but – why – did she – did she want this? –" She asked in a trembling voice full of terror, indicating that she really believed he might have raped her.

He was not surprised.

"– yes – but I don't think that makes it look any better –" He mumbled, tightening his fingers on the base of his nose, leaning his head forward.

"– we did it twice – and then a third time before I –" He didn't finish and cried out loudly, making his mother breathe heavily as if she was in the same state as him.

"– oh my God – oh my God, Aemond, what have you done – she's your niece –" She choked out finally.

"– I know, Mum –" He mumbled, running his fingers over his face, thinking he already understood where her desire to end her life and this perpetual sense of unfulfillment and emptiness came from.

"– me too – I'm no saint either –" She muttered finally, looking up at him with big eyes. "– me and Criston –"

He swallowed hard and shook his head, recognising that it wasn't the same.

"– I know, Mum – you won't hear a word of condemnation from me –"

His mother drew a loud breath and wept, as if she felt both relieved and sad at the same time.

"– nor will you hear them from me, son – since you both wanted it, it was simply a mistake of youth – you are both lost and have sought comfort – but it must not happen again – do you understand? – for your sake and hers –" She said with confidence and conviction that this was the best possible decision.

"– I keep thinking about her – since that holiday eight years ago – I've tried, but I can't stop –" He choked out at last, wiping his red cheek, feeling as if he were ten years old again, complaining to her that someone had beaten him up at school.

Alicent ran her hand over her face before placing her palm over his.

"– sometimes – sometimes we have to leave certain things to ourselves – the shameful desires of our hearts – and fulfil them when no one sees – do you understand? –" She asked in a trembling voice, and he nodded.

"– yes –"

"It is not love itself that is sin –" She said finally. "– but what we do with it."

[healer-pop]

blood on my shirt, roses in my hand.

‼️ summary: venture doesn’t know if you realize what seeing you in a fight does to them.

⛔️ warnings: 18+ content! scenes of violence and blood, afab!reader, and explicit sexual content.

🍒 word count: 4.6k

the rush was incomparable.

if this was what it was like all the time, you finally understood why your partner chose to join and stay with the recall.

the way your blood throbbed through your veins, tingling like electricity as it rushed up your arms and down your legs, burning like a stovetop where hands gripped onto you.

you felt the hot and cold all at once, your body sweating, but your insides like ice, struggling against the hard grasp of the person currently hugging you tightly against them, dragging your kicking feet further down the ancient paved streets, further away from safety, from Venture. their gun pressed into your side, a bruising pressure right into your ribs, dark threats mumbled into your ear from a raspy voice, something that was straight out of a horror movie.

they didn't get it wrong, though. you felt manic, tears pouring down your cheeks, pooling on the arm of your captor. that feeling of needing to live.

the ground suddenly shook, teetering them off balance, their arms loosening around you, and you tugged one hand free with a strength you didn't know you had in you, squirming around to face them.

you swung. your palm connecting with your target — the goons nose, crunching under your palm, the ski mask doing little to stop the blow. a wet feeling. a squishy one. blood dripping down your hand, seeping into their fabric mask.

the world beside you a blurry, inconsistent tangle of color, movement, and silence.

was that what drew you in? the quiet? the peace that came with violence? there wasn’t enough time to dwell on it.

talon’s operative staggered back, gun clattering to the floor as they clutched their nose, a yell of frustration erupting from their throat as their black eyes burned into your own. there was nothing. no thoughts, just pure instinct as you kicked the gun away. you brought your leg up. and they realized at the last second what you were about to do — tried to drop their hands from their face to block your foot, but came too short, allowing you free access to their stomach, dropping them to the ground with a quiet groan.

black spots popped in and out of your vision, leaving the area they appear in washed of color; the traveling ones leave white lines that slash your field of view into crystalline, fractured pieces.

it was addicting.

suddenly, an echo. like a voice resounding through a tunnel.

your name—

your name was being called.

you whip around, a bit too quickly for your untrained mind, which was currently dropping from its hyper focused space, making you step in place far too many times than was necessary for a simple turn.

“Venture…?”

this would never get boring.

Venture absolutely thrived on adrenaline. the reverb from the drill shook their hands, yet they themselves were rock-solid. it was the purest form of clarity they ever felt. dirt and rock flew past their face as the drilled into the ground, no doubt lacerating their face, but Venture felt nothing.

talon’s sentry was slow, slowed by the weight of their armor, too slow to turn around fast enough and defend themselves as Venture quickly reemerged from the ground, dashing forward with the drill angled perfectly at their abdomen, piercing metal and fabric and flesh. they stumbled backwards, into their partner, both of them tumbling to the ground, guns flying beyond their reach, shield tech flashing an alarming blue then white.

Venture stood above them, the dry wind of the desert whipping their coat around them, taking the moment to slide the button on their excavator backwards.

“next time… don’t interrupt my date.”

Venture clicked the button forward, the weapon giving off a satisfying shink! — as it informed its user that it was reloaded, the curved metal lighting up as Venture raised it above their head, a blossoming, blue vortex appearing, bright as a star, as its teeth opened.

two pairs of eyes widen, realizing what was about to come. they tried to scramble to their feet. not quick enough. Venture smirked.

“Excavation Initiation!”

the sands flew up around them from the cracks in the pavement as Venture slammed the drill down. Once. Twice. And a third, just for good measure.

their breath heaved. chest rising and falling in time with the dusty air, scanning for any sign of the enemies. nothing. nothing but red hot sand, melting from the laser hot electrical-plasma into small, weak crystals of glass. no… the sand was already cooled. It was stained red. a small puddle of blood was all that was left, mixing with the glowing crystals. it would make a nice keepsake. maybe they could make something out of it for you.

You.

where were you?

Three… there were three operatives that confronted the two of you. the tank and the two gun men. The tank and the rifleman was with them… that left…

It was a cold realization, sending chills down Venture’s spine, their arms sprouting with goosebumps as it contrasted the scorching air.

they yelled your name, spinning around helplessly as they looked for you. a grunt bounced off the ruins, somewhere in the distance and it shook their very being. Venture tossed the excavator to the ground, sprinting towards the sound, hoping that they were wrong. hoping you had managed to get out of range when they… how could they have been so careless!

another sound. pain. Venture could feel the burn in their legs as they pushed their body to go faster, their feet exploding with pain as they collided with the uneven stone beneath them.

a figure appeared in the foreground. another, splayed on the ground and for a second, Venture felt their heart stop. their feet followed with. the icy grasp of fear and panic, their mind exploded into an overwhelming static, ears ringing.

then the grief. the absolute worst thoughts coming to head as they felt their lungs begin to pound. every single worst scenario screaming in their head as they forced themselves forward, eyes wide in sheer terror.

I wasn’t quick enough!

What did Talon do to them?! When I get my hands on them...

What if… what if I…

but… but you hadn’t been wearing those shoes. Or those black military pants. and as Venture’s eyes raised on the down figure’s body, the glaring icon of Talon, stitched onto the upper thigh, yet again stopped all processing in their brain. it felt like an entire system reboot. Off. On. Rewind. Restart.

as they came to their senses, they turned their eyes to the other figure, less than a meter away. You. safe, but blood dripped down your fingertips. your perfect, beautiful, plush lips parted as weighted breaths escaped them. oh good. you were breathing. that was always good.

their voice trembled as they called for you, a weak whisper barely audible to even their own ears (or was that the tinnitus?). your face was unreadable, seemingly caught on the unconscious figure before you. Venture swallowed, throat burning as saliva traveled down. they ignored it. the pain didn’t matter. You did. Only you. they took a step forward and tried again. it came out much louder this time. and it snapped you out of whatever haze held you hostage. you stumbled as you looked around, and Venture was running towards you before either you knew what was going on.

“Venture…?”

they grabbed you, the sudden movement catching you off guard, and tugged you into their warm, sweaty embrace. you had no choice but to fall into them. “Oh, baby… Baby, baby, baby, I’m so sorry. I am so so so SO sorry- I didn’t realize- I didn’t mean to leave you alone.” their arms clutched you like a coffin, sized just for you, firm, yet so gentle and sweet. they stammered out more apologies, for what, you weren’t sure of, but you slowly raised your arms, as weak as they felt and held them back with all the might you could muster — which wasn’t much.

“— you with me? I mean, it’s ok if you aren’t, I know, I know it was a lot. I didn’t know — I mean, of course I didn’t. I wouldn’t have brought you here if I knew they were here, of all places. I just- I was so worried. Are you ok?” Their voice broke through your exhausted brain, you barely could catch all of what they were saying, but you managed a tired laugh, pulling back from their hug.

“Sloane, Sloane, I’m.. I’m ok. Better than ok, actually. I feel… good. Tired but… but clear.”

They smiled back, but it didn’t quite meet their eyes, and they kept glancing downwards to scan you over, but were trying not to be obvious about it. Your grin turned mischievous and you lifted a bloodied fist, drying blood flaking off the rest of you arm as your skin moved. It badly shook, but you relished how their eyes widened. Splaying your fingers, you then wiggling them, showing they were all fully functional.

“You should see the other guy.”

and it was that moment they realized that maybe they were a bit fucked in the head. the moment Venture realized how downright sexy you looked, all covered in dirt and someone else’s blood, the dazed look you still wore hooding your eyes like the ones you gave them in the bedroom, still grinning as you sent a playful, but sleepy, wink their way. and by all the gods in the world, they needed you under them. now.

despite your protests, Venture insisted on taking a heli-taxi back to the hotel. it wasn’t that far of a walk, but the moment you sat on the bouncy leather seat, you were more than thankful they did. your head immediately dropped back, eyes rolling the same way, in absolute bliss at the small comfort.

you missed the way the omnic taxi driver grimaced at your dirty state, but Venture wasted no time in shutting your door and bounding over to their side, quietly promising a good tip if they kept quiet about it and were discreet. a quick nod and Venture soon joined you in the back, but you were quick to tell that something was off.

Venture kept themselves pressed to the far side of the taxi, fidgeting in their seat, shifting this way and that. you wouldn’t have noticed, but the way the leather seats squeaked as they did was unmistakable. let alone they barely mumbled one word to you after making sure you were ok. that in itself was downright bizarre behavior for your usually chatty lover. as it crossed your mind, you tiredly opened one eye, watching their fingers play with each other as they seem to nervously watch the moving sites outside the window, purposely avoiding your side of the car.

“Sl-… Venture,” you called, and it made them jump.

“Mhm?”

“Everything alright?”

“Mhm! Yep! Everything’s fine over here!”

“Venture." You tilted your head to try and peer at their face. "You aren’t looking at me.”

their eyes dropped to the taxi’s floor, trailing over the carpet, then quickly jumped up at you, then back down. a nervous, toothy smile jumped onto their face, despite their avoidance, before they turned back to the window.

“Venture.” this time, they didn’t respond. You sat up fully and reached over to grasp one of their hands. “Venture, I’m not mad.”

“I- I know.”

“You know? Then what’s wrong?”

the speed at which they turned around almost alarmed you. you almost forgot that this person, your lover, was now an overwatch operative, with instincts and reactions far faster than yours ever could be, they trained them over and over, countlessly, every day of their life now. their eyes, deep and dark, burned as they caught yours; an endless void, furthered by their furrowed brow. Venture’s hands twisted yours around, so they now held your wrist, gently tugging you forward like a kid in grade school who wished to bestow upon you a great secret. noses nearly touching, you recognized the way your partner’s voice dropped, a husky whisper, a razor blade caressing the skin of your face, “the way you look right now… I want to fuck you so hard you can’t think of anything else but screaming my name.” their hot breath fanning your now overly sensitive lips. you feel your body heat up in response to their words. “if I keep my eyes on you for one more second…” they punctuated this by raking their heavy gaze over your body, “i’m gonna take you in this taxi without caring who’s watching.”

with that, they released you, but the flush on their cheeks was unmistakable, and they strained against their own instincts as they leaned back into their seat, firmly locking their gaze on the taxi driver’s headrest. you were frozen, still hunched over the center seat, hand frozen in midair, body unable to catch up with the sudden wave of arousal now coursing through your body like a tidal wave.

ah. now you got it. not only did the violence bring peace. but as your pulse quickened, all you could think about was how much fighting felt like this. a shot of pure ecstasy to the brain. you sat back. your eyes slide over to glance at Venture, who had closed theirs. they went to slide back but caught on the rearview mirror. the glowing light of six pin-point dots reflected back at you but then disappeared. you swallowed. fuck.

Sloane’s tongue felt like it was wrapped around yours. wet lips, smacking together as your back hit the door. it covered your teeth, and your own tongue pushed back, darting into their mouth and catching on their chipped tooth. for once, you didn’t care if it cut you. you welcomed it. you wanted to taste the iron in their mouth, wanted it to further slick the slide of your connected mouths.

one of your hands reached for the doorknob grasping at air as you tried to locate it. the other, the blood-covered one, was currently busy, tangling itself in Sloane’s hair. was it pushing them closer into you or away? neither of you were sure. Sloane was too busy groping at anything they could feel, your ass, your tits, your hips and you could feel the gears of your brain grind to a halt at their rough touch. both of their hands traveled around your body, the catch of the calluses you knew too well unmistakable, finding their way into your pants, squeezing your panty-covered ass. it was the moment they began to unbutton them that you tugged your face away, looking upwards to try and get a word in, but the moment you started, Sloane latched onto your neck, suckling what would be, no doubt, a deep bruise into your throat.

“Ssssslone. Sloane! I gotta- ah!- gotta get the keycard!”

stubbornly, they shook their head, digging their hands deeper into the flesh of your ass. a breathless laugh escaped you and they moaned. you could feel it vibrate against your collar as they popped off your skin, staring back at you with a love-drunk smile, lips bruised and wet from your earlier make-out session. their eyes traveled down, lip disappearing between their teeth, letting you catch of glimpse of a lusty twinkle as they pulled back slightly to take all of you in. before they could act on any of those desires, however, you twisted around to deny them the access to your body, but it didn’t quite work as planned, especially when they were on you in an instant, pushing their hips forward, into your ass, pinning you against the door. oh, yeah. they literally react for a living. how could you forget (again). you, unfortunately, did not, and as punishment, you had managed to get your hands trapped with you, between you and the hardwood.

"S-Sloane," you squeaked, in protest at the capture. but you knew it was a futile pled, no more than a selfish desire to hear their name fall off your lips.

“you’re so pretty like this, babe… need to see you in this position more often…” the slow grind of their hips they used to drive this in had you seeing stars. you felt drunk off their attention and changed your course of action, now using your hands as a base in which you leaned your weight against, rubbing your ass back, against Venture’s warm body. “yesssss… yes, just like that, baby. I’ll take care of you. take care of you so good. make you cum so hard.”

and suddenly, a beep.

you went flying forward as the door swung open, but Sloane was faster, catching you around the waist with one, strong arm. you glanced back, wondering what just happened. the other was lifted in the air, keycard to the hotel room slotted between two fingers. the smile they flashed you could be potentially described as, ‘shit-eating.’

“I told you, babe. I gotcha.”

“if I wasn’t so horny for you right now, I would hit you.”

“I like a little fight.”

you huffed at them, pulling yourself free, but that only lasted a second. you intended to make your way to the bed, yearning for its clean, linen smelling sheets, but Sloane redirected you to their shoulder with one easy lift, the door slamming shut behind them. “Uhn-uh. Has estado bastante lejos de mí, pajarito.”

“Sloane! Let me go already!” smacking their back with a open hand, you tried to at least act like you didn’t enjoy their man-handling. when truly, you marveled at their strength. the way they could toss you around like a pillow, yet they never managed to injure you. the self-control they had was a feat that didn’t seem to make it to their mouth. and you wanted to absolutely destroy it. watching them lose themself in you was your greatest weakness, winning over their touch by only a small amount.

Sloane plopped you down onto the bed with no effort, standing above you with the same loving smile as before. Their hand trailed down your cheek, lifting your chin to face them. “Hi, beautiful.”

You raised your eyebrows. “You sure you want me here?” the bed was one of those modern ones. low to the floor and had you at crotch level.

the smile they had dropped. slowly, a confused look took its place. “Why wouldn’t Iiiii- oh my god.”

they might have been quick on their feet on the battlefield, but the bedroom was your domain. in an instant, you had their pants and shorts on the floor, kissing the top of their cunt before they could even finish their sentence. you rested the top your chin on their groin, batting your eyes at the shocked look they handed down to you. “that’s why. now come here.” you tug them forward by their thighs, mouth open, tongue out, thirsting for a lick of their sweet juices.

“I- you weren’t supposed to—”

“Mmm?” you purred, tongue occupying itself with a long lick up their slit that left them gasping. “Wasn’t supposed to… what? I can have my own fun too.”

The noise they made was completely garbled. With a laugh, you went back to kitten-soft licks to their labia, only deepening them a couple of times, every so often, twirling their slick around with your tongue. they couldn’t seem to form a word with their sharp tongue, not with your silver one buried in them. as you started downward, you tapped their shaking calf, indicating them to shake the clothing off their leg and raise it onto the bed beside you, opening up their cunt to you — a sight that made your mouth water. their hole was leaking, drips that you caught with your mouth, leading with your tongue.

you plunged it into them, using your hands to open their legs even more and letting Sloane use them for balance as they rocked against your face, allowing you to penetrate them over and over again. they grasped the sides of your face, saccharine pet names now flowing from their lips as you fucked them on your tongue.

“cariño, my love, you’re so fucking good. beyond my wildest dreams — oh god, you’re so perfect. just incomparable. fuck, just- just- just keep- yes!”

with all the lubrication, it was easy to slide back and forth between their hole and their clit. you mimicked their move in the hallway, suckling on the nub with swift slurps, releasing it to trace their lips back down to their hole, diving in to remind them what it was like to be filled by you again.

“please- fuck! i’m so close! so, so close!” their voice raised in pitch as you continue your wet exploration of their cave, hands moving to grab at your hair, gripping it closer, shoving your nose into their cunt, you did the same to the back of their thighs, pulling them into your face, letting Sloane grind against you, and as you sucked in a shaky breath, all hot and musky scent, they keened, letting out the loudest moan you’ve ever pulled from their throat as they came, soaking your tongue, your mouth, your face in their juices.

“oh, oh—.” Sloane’s legs shook in your grasp, sighing out their held breath as they released themself, released your hair with trembling fingers. you pulled back, face shiny and wet with come, glistening on your lips as you stared up with them. they were so gorgeous like this, mouth parted, huffing out your name under their breath. you admired the sight, holding them as they shook with the aftershocks of their orgasm.

“You… you’re so gonna get it,” they breathed. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard.”

“All talk and no- mMPH-!” your mouth was covered by their own as they tackled you backwards, down onto the bed, licking off their own slick from you. they practically were devouring you, teeth clashing as they pressed their naked lower half into you. the heat never left Sloane’s eyes, you noticed, as they pulled away to reach under the bed for their suitcase. you attempted to sit up, but one hand pushed you back down, holding you in place on the bed as they rummaged around underneath.

“No. Stay there. My turn.” You recognized the black nylon straps they pulled out, buckles clinking as they fiddled with the orientation. Even with one hand, they were able to untangle the mess of rope, without ever letting you go. And god, why didn’t anyone mention how sexy it was to watch your partner put on their strap with one hand? Like they were sent just to do this to you? Like they knew every button to press just to get you indescribably horny?

the only time Sloane’s hand left you was to clasp the back of the contraption shut, but even then, you were held firm by their strong legs, squeezing your sides and arms together. you wouldn’t have even thought to break free, not with the rate your brain turned to mush. then their hands were back, under your thighs, hoisting them open and up onto their shoulders as they aligned themself with your entrance. but ever a tease, Sloane didn’t just push in. no, this was payback, wasn’t it? their fingers danced along your cunt, rough tips spread your most private area open as they watched. it was almost embarrassing, how much they liked to just look at your sopping wet cunt, toying with your hole, running their fingers along the rim.

“Sloane,” you pleaded, “please, please fuck me… it’s embarrassing.”

“nah… this is pretty. your little cunt wants me so bad! doesn’t it?” you bit your lip. they wanted to embarrass you. even with no one around, you felt like you should close your legs, to stop their gaze, but they refused to let you, holding your thigh open. “what’s wrong, baby? I thought you liked it when I complemented you?”

“not… not that way, Venture…. Sloane. please just fuck me…”

“well, when you ask so nicely…” and the stretch was almost instantaneous. you gasp, a mix of their name and air, flooding your lungs, your brain with utter pleasure at the entrance of the hard silicone. your hands, still filthy, clutched at anything you could reach; bed, sheets, shoulders. Sloane hums as you rake them down, somewhat regretful they haven’t shrugged off their coat, so that you could see the pink lines you leave all over their arms.

“so pretty under me… love when you’re so fucked out like this.” fucking Sloane Cameron was an all encompassing experience, so intimate and dirty all at once. they whispered to you about how good you felt wrapped around them, fucking into you with the strap at a pace only they could manage to keep up, all while brushing hair out of your face, leaning down to kiss the tears from your cheeks.

“such a warm, wet pussy, god, I love it. made for me and my cock. weren’t you? all mine. mi amor. por siempre mio. ah… you’re soaking the bed. you feel it? feel how wet you make my cock?”

their pace was punishing, right off the bat. pushing the air from your lungs with every thrust. was it the air denial that made your head spin? or was it just Sloane? the way they kissed you like they loved you, fucked you like they hated you. they knew you could take it. they loved to test your limits. tested you would be, as their hand dropped to your clit, flicking it with a gentle fingertip every time they pushed into you.

“Sloane! no more, no more! i can’t- can’t take it!”

“Yeah, you can. you got it, got me all wrapped up in your cunt. you can take it. come on, cariño, you can do it.”

you toss your head back, displaying your bruised neck to them, a black pearl necklace of Sloane’s own design, something that belonged straight in the finest museum in the world, in their opinion.

“can’t… I can’t! I- i’m gonna cum!”

they lean in. “yes, baby. that’s it. cum. cum on my cock. show me how good I make you feel.” the sound of their voice. the slap of their thighs on yours. the overstimulation had you trying to push their face away, but they grabbed them, shoving them over your head and burying themself as deep as they could in you. you could feel it push against your pummeled cervix, making you cry out. making you jolt as the hand on your clit moved faster, it was inescapable. it was intoxicating. it- it was making you cum. your fingers came down on the hand holding them, the only thing they could manage as all the muscles in your body tightened, your cunt squeezing the dildo inside you like a vise as you squirting around it, soaking Sloane’s legs, crying out their name as you came.

“h- holy shit…” they whispered to themself, watching you squirm on their cock. you came every where. all over the bed, over them. they wanted so badly to lean down and lick the droplets off your lower lips, but the way you shook made them decide you had had enough for the time being. your eyes still clenched shut, chest rising and falling as you came down.

it was only when you opened them, that they decided to speak.

“good enough for you, cariño?” your eyes, lidded with desire were enhanced tenfold by the grin you gave them.

“not even close. take me to the shower. i’ll show you something else you’ve never seen before.”

[planete777]

getting high with lando and u somehow end up on his lap and u kinda accidentally grind down on him and he moans and says that feels rlly good and ur just like yeah? and u end up riding him

I WANNA RIDE・⁠｡♪ LN4

( lando norris x fem!reader )

WARNINGS. 18+, MINORS DNI, getting high (as per), p in v unprotected sex (practise safe sex guys!!), semi public sex, riding, a little bit of body worship, high!lando x reader being hot (as per pt. 2)

NOTE. anon prbly wanted this as a small thought post, but i had to write a proper fic coz planete.exe 404 error: BRAINROTTING! so plz enjoy my first ever smut (sorry if it sucks i tried), and remember, don't get high!! or do wtv u please.... ok bye 🫶

SIDENOTE. my askbox is open! feel free to send in any thoughts, scenarios, requests etc about high!lando 🤍

￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣￣

all in the name of needed getaways, y/n and lando find themselves in the aforementioned's car, basking just behind the local park, where the sunset could perform best. clocks are just shy of 7pm, the wind a couple of degrees cooler than hours prior, and sitting in their adjacent seats with doors wide open, both lando and y/n have lit and inhaled their spliffs by second nature.

lando's beyond glad that the vehicle is out of plain sight, veiled by thick trees and bushes, because he was completely struck, dazed with not a thought in mind, and the sight would make a journalist's field day. yet, it's the thrill that keeps him flippant to all seriousness and discretion. the presence of y/n, uncaring and completely liberal in nature, gives him a second identity to just let it all go and succumb to the skewed vision and thrumming fingertips.

seats reclined by a bit, lando's foot rests just below the dashboard, y/n the same but with both instead, and lando can't feel a thing.

it's light conversation that carries the mood, punctuated by the aux that y/n has complete control over, and the rest of the world simmers away as they let the high take them before the ombres of the sky. it gets chiller, and it knocks y/n into partial sobriety slamming her side of the door shut.

"shut the door, lan', it's fucking cold now."

he groans, "nah, can't move."

he hears her sigh, mumbling a disappointed 'dickhead' beneath her breath, and he smiles before zoning out again. a few seconds of shuffling commences, then weighted friction lands so heavily on his thighs that it excavates a vehement puff of air out of him, red eyes snapping open. he can't say anything, not when y/n leans to grab the door shut and grinds on him with so much force that it has to be intentional.

lando knows he accomodated a semi throughout the whole car ride. something about seeing his best friend in her element turns him on so much that he could probably cum untouched.

but now, he feels too much, there's pressure on his dick, accompanied by warmth only y/n could emanate, and the moan that flies out of him rumbles in his chest.

"fuck, that feels good."

y/n freezes as she settles again, but then she's smirking, and no matter how more shut than open his eyes are, he can see it blatantly.

"yeah?" her voice sounds light and airy, and it runs lando mad.

"mhm." his chest is heaving up and down with a quickened velocity, and he feels far from being at the peace he was just seconds before.

the girl leans in, lips tracing along the skin of his neck with a phantom touch, and lando can feel every single inch of his resolve melt away. his hands rest on her hips, teasing a slip beneath her hoodie, and he squeezes, hard.

she goes higher, and higher, stopping at his ear, "let me ride you."

then it's all gone. composure complete in lack, his hand reaches up to her nape and slams her lips against his for a gratifying kiss. his eagerness is matched instantaneously, y/n combing her hands through lando's curls and tugging so hard that he nearly fears that some would rip out of their roots.

nothing amounts to the all encompassing sensation of y/n everywhere. her grinding turns more frantic, and he pushes her down hastily, hands crawling upon the skin of her back.

"get your dick in me, lan'," she says, with no room for more words, and he does just that, welding their lips together again as he fumbles with the knot of his joggers.

y/n finds a way to free herself of her hoodie, leaving her in nothing but her bra, and lando, pushing down to free his hard, aching dick, expresses his distaste for that.

"take it off, y/n."

she's smirking, and lando's losing it even more, "what? you're gonna suck them out here?"

he almost finds it offensive that she doesn't think he'll worship her anywhere. public be fucking damned, he'd be at her mercy whenever he could.

"and you'll fucking love it."

"damn right."

just as she unclips her bra, she grabs lando's dick, and, unprecedentedly, sheaths herself in.

everything is hot. god, he can't do anything but moan and moan again, shutting his eyes and going completely limp. it doesn't deter y/n, in fact, her wet, tight cunt squeezes and grinds upon lando's dick without mercy and the pleasure that soars through him burns and tickles.

"oh fuck fuck fuck," lando's mouth rains profanities, and as he goes to open his eyes, y/n moans and they roll back shut again. he's red all over, feels his t-shirt sticking to his skin with sweat, and the girl keeps on bouncing and grinding. he can't survive with it on, and so he yanks it off, coming skin-to-skin with y/n's naked chest.

"fuck lan'."

she can say nothing more, and neither can he, his hips thrusting upwards to meet hers. she lets out a high pitched moan, and lando's ears ring as he brings his hands up to cup her breasts. they fill them so perfectly, and his mouth waters like it aches for honey, attaching it to her left nipple and sucking it like he was running mad. he's drunk off her essence, a complete goner, and y/n throws her head back as her grinds slow down.

"feels so fucking good."

she's so deep in euphoria that she's on the verge of tears, and lando decides to let himself do the work, grabbing her hips and grinding upwards frantically.

the car smells sharply of sex, humid and steaming up the windows, and y/n hazily complements the scent with a drag of weed, eyes rolling back, and mouth puffing out pouts of smoke and moans. she feels the knot tighten in her gut and her toes curl just as lando sloppily licks wet kisses up her chest and neck, then into her mouth.

the kiss is barely one, filled with clashing teeth and the exchange of sighs, but lando keeps their mouth attached, sneaking a hand into hers to steal the spliff. y/n lets him, jaw slackened and too tired to engage in the tangle of tongues either.

"fuck, i'm cumming— shit shit shit!"

"cum with me y/n, cum on my dick," lando slurs out, taking the roll into his mouth before inhaling and exhaling the white smoke. his dick spasms sporadically, sensitive and completely throbbing as he spurts right into y/n's cunt, feeling her own coat and pool at the base of his dick.

they can barey ride down their high, exhausted and completely satiated, and all y/n can do is rest her head on lando's shoulder, rubbing her hands up and down his chest as he does the same.

[utilitycaster]

I said this late last night but actually, I was serious: I really do feel like the stasis bubbles are ultimately at the core of Ludinus's attitude towards Aeor, and the fact that he doesn't seem to have focused on them at all is the key to understanding his agenda.

I don't believe the stasis bubbles are a lost cause. I think there's certainly failure points, ie, I think if one does not go about this with utmost care then yes, the people within will rapidly age or wither to dust and be lost. But I don't think a successful release of the Aeorians in these bubbles is impossible within the canon of Critical Role. I think it is very, very difficult, but I think it could be done.

Ludinus doesn't seem to have focused on this at all - not even a half-assed attempt. He's gone for a literal moonshot, connecting with something he didn't even know existed and destroying Molaesmyr in the process. To his limited credit I think it's entirely likely he didn't know about these stasis bubbles until Aeor excavations began about 60 years ago, but I don't think Aeor became his focus until he realized he could strip it for parts: both for its technology, and as part of his propaganda machine.

Ludinus's grudge against the gods began with the end of the Calamity, in his own youth, in those final battles, and we know that he was already studying mages like Laerryn and using the harness to extend his lifespan while he lived in Molaesmyr. He may very well have known about Aeor, but his goal was to kill the gods. He only just saw what was in the Occultus Thalamus now.

Aeor is a useful tool to him, and it's a better tool to him if he can act like it's lost forever and everyone is dead. Aeorians only help him if they're doomed corpses. If he cared about the deaths of the people of Aeor and the culture of the city, why let his general repeatedly target FCG, one of its only current survivors? Why shut down the researchers from Uthodurn and the Dynasty in the past 7 years? Why push towards this Thalamus even as his army falls to Dominox when the stasis bubbles are just outside? Are those collapses Essek noted just the ravages of time, or was he destroying the city even further?

He doesn't really care about Aeorians in the slightest. He wants to kill the gods, and treats this mass slaughter and cultural destruction of Aeor as a boon that fell into his lap so that he can say "look what they took from you" to the world that he's been ravaging and slaughtering his way through himself for the past few months (and, on a slower but no less violent scale, the last millennium). The second he lets one of the Aeormatons brought back by D speak? Or brings back one of the thousands of Aeorians who could, perhaps, survive and come back and even revive that lost knowledge? Well, then it's not lost forever at the hands of the gods now, is it, and that makes for bad press, and we can't have that now, can we, not when we're about to crack open the moon and eat the gods! Sorry that a phoenix killed your family and no one could resurrect them, but you know how it is. Let bygones be bygones, unless they're his trauma and his trauma alone.

Any claim that he cares about Aeor is a lie. He cares for himself and no one else. He loves that Aeor is gone because it's always been gone to him and, like any fossil, is only good as fuel for his own agenda. And we and Bells Hells are about to see a glimpse of life in the city that's more convenient to him when it's dead, and he thinks that's going to help his cause.

[gainjoysvehicle]

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[used-excavator]

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[msgexymunson]

walking around the house in nothing but one of eddie's old t-shirts... knowing that the second he sees you, you're getting bent over the nearest surface.

Well! How could I say no to this?? 

Warnings: p in v unprotected sex (wrap it folks) implied established relationship, dom Eddie x sub fem reader 

A/N: this was a good ask, exactly what I like, short and dirty (just like me) Comments and reblogs are what keep the cogs and springs in my steampunk heart oiled ❤️

Masterlist

Humming along to the radio in the warm light of the trailer, you try to be helpful, mixing ingredients in a plastic bowl you'd found in a cupboard. Eddie had left to do a deal and his uncle was away all weekend, so you'd crawled out of bed and decided to whip up some pancakes. He'd mentioned them the night before and left you with a craving so you thought you'd surprise him. 

You pad around the kitchen barefoot, only wearing one of Eddie's old Hellfire T shirts, the one he hated since it was too big. It was perfect for you as a makeshift dress, just covering the curve of your butt. 

Reaching on tippy toes you examine the top cupboard trying to excavate a frying pan from its depths. Over the sound of the tinny radio and your own clattering you don't notice the opening of the trailer door, or the metallic sound of Eddie's keys falling to the ground in shock. 

You cannot help but notice a warm torso against your back and an unmistakable bulge pressing directly against your ass. Jumping with shock, a squeal escapes your lips.

"Jesus Eddie you scared me!" 

No words. Just a firm hand gripping you by the hip, the other snaking fingers across your jaw, and a strong body pushing you hard against the counter. Panic grips you for a moment. What if it isn't Eddie? 

That is until hot breath winds its way into your ear. 

"Baby, look at you. What are you doing?" 

You attempt to answer, whilst he grinds his hardness against the fat of your ass cheeks. 

"I-I was, I was making pancakes. I was gonna surprise you?" Your words are unsure; he almost sounds mad, belying the urgent gestures of his hips.

"I mean, what are you doing in my shirt? Jesus baby, you look smokin' hot." 

You attempt to move but Eddie's holding you still, hand now gripping the nape of your neck whilst the other smooths across your curves and under the hem of his old shirt. As his fingertips ghost across your heat you can't help but back into his feathering touch. 

"Fuck, you're not even wearing panties? Well, fuck." 

His hand moves away, making you frown, until you hear the unmissable clink of his handcuff belt. Eddie unzips his jeans and pushes them down just far enough to release his cock from its denim confines. 

You feel the weeping tip rut against your slickened folds making you jolt. 

"Eddie, please." It comes out needy, begging; exactly how he likes it. 

"Yeah? You want it? Is that why you're wearing my shirt and nothing else?" You hear the grin in his voice and the wet noise of him spitting into his hand to wrap it around his dick. 

When he starts pushing into you a gasp forces its way out of your lungs; air expelling in relief at him entering you. 

Eddie gives you no time to adjust. He simply ruts into you animalistically, one hand gripping your hip leaving indents in your skin, the other leaning on the countertop as leverage, allowing him to drive into you as hard as possible. 

"You drive me crazy, just walking around in my shirt, and, fuck, nothing else. You fuckin' menace." 

"Eddie!" You try to retort but there's no air to breathe, unable to snap back when he's fucking you this brutally. 

You feel a deep bubbling in your stomach, a powerful release clamping down on your insides, about to spill. Eddie's thrusts become sloppy and somehow even deeper as you scream your release out into the world, pussy gripping him as if it were afraid to let him go. Eddie cums inside you with a drawn out groan, body flopping over yours on the countertop. 

Pressing soft kisses to your temple, he pulls from your heat and stands. You're not so lucky, legs wobbling, nearly giving out from under you like a new-born fowl. 

"Woah there, sweetheart" Eddie says as he grasps you firmly by your waist. "You OK?" 

Steadying yourself, you turn to face him. 

"Hi." 

"Hi." He chuckles, peeling a strand of hair out of your face. "You wanna go and clean up and I'll make the pancakes?" 

"Sure" You grin, planting a kiss to his chapped lips.

"You wanna hand me that then sweetheart?" 

Confusion floods your face, until your eyes follow his, and realise your gripping onto the spatula you had in your hands when he came in. You hand it over, fingers releasing from their death grip. 

"That good eh?" Eddie smirks, full of himself. 

"Shut up Munson" You hit his arm, but there's no force in it, as you make your way to the bathroom. It was, after all, a hell of a way to wake up. 

I only had a tag list for Rumour, so if anyone wants to be on my general Eddie taglist please comment/reblog to say so!

@munson-blurbs @eddiesprincess86

[city-of-ladies]

"Here’s what we know about Julia Felix: she lived in Pompeii from at least 62 CE. She was possibly illegitimate but was definitely not a member of the social and cultural elite. She worked for a living setting up and running a very interesting business and, by 79 CE, she had planned to shift her focus from managing a business to owning property. We know all these things because twentieth-century excavations at her business uncovered an advert, carved in stone and attached to the external wall of her huge building. It reads:

"To rent for the period of five years from the thirteenth day of next August to the thirteenth day of the sixth August, the Venus Bath fitted for the nogentium, shops with living quarters over the shops, apartments on the second floor located in the building of Julia Felix, daughter of Spurius. At the end of five years, the agreement is terminated."

This find illuminated the building it was attached to, bringing what otherwise looked like a very large anonymous domestic house into dazzling focus. With this description of the purpose of each room written by the owner herself, archaeologists and historians could see the site through a whole new lens and they realised that they had discovered a Roman entertainment space for the working middle classes. It is, so far, a completely unique find and it is magnificent. It offers us, as modern viewers, two amazing things: a little glimpse into the lives of the commercial classes of the Roman Empire who are so often completely and utterly invisible, and a brutal reminder that so much of what we ‘know’ about Roman women in the Roman world comes from rules concerning only the most elite.

We’ll do that second part first, because it’s the least fun. Roman written and legal sources are pretty universal in their agreement that although women could own property, they could not control it; they had no legal rights, could not make contracts and were to be treated as minors by the legal system for their entire lives. In order to buy or sell property women required a male guardian to oversee and sign off on any transactions. This is a basic truism of women in the Roman Empire, repeated ad nauseum by sources both ancient and modern including me, and it is undermined by Julia Felix’s rental notice. 

The rental ad makes it pretty clear that Julia Felix is the owner-operator of a business complex including public baths, shops and apartments (there’s more too, as we’ll see), and she doesn’t seem to require anyone else to help her rent it out. She names her father – sort of; ‘Spurius’ might just mean that she is illegitimate – but this is effectively a surname, a personal identifier to differentiate her from other Julia Felixes in the area. It doesn’t mean her father was involved. Furthermore, the use of her father’s name as an identifier suggests that Julia didn’t have a husband and was either unmarried or widowed in 79 CE. The strong implication of her advert is that Julia Felix was an independent lady, a honey making money and a momma profiting dollars who could truthfully throw her hands up to Destiny’s Child.

We will never know if Julia escaped the flames and choking ash of 79 CE, fleeing as it swallowed her business and her home, but one discovery, made on 28 January 1952, suggests that she didn’t. The archaeologists, led by Amedeo Maiuri, uncovered on that day the skeleton of a woman who had fallen while running across the garden during the disaster. It’s clear this fallen woman was well off, because she was wearing a lot of gold jewellery. She carried four gold half-hoop earrings and wore four gold rings. Two of these rings were particularly expensive; both contained a red carnelian gem, one carved with a figure of Mercury, the other with an eagle. Around her neck she wore a necklace of gold filigree, dotted with ten pearls and hung with a green pendant. Someone stole both the necklace and earrings from the Pompeii Antiquarium in 1975 and no one, somehow, had ever bothered to photograph them so all we have are descriptions but the rings that survive are fine and expensive. The woman who wore them – was wearing them when she died – had real money to buy these objects and the woman who wore them did'nt leave Pompei in time.

 Moreover, when she was found it was clear that at the moment of her death she was heading not towards the street or towards safety, but towards the shrine to Isis in the garden where all the most valuable possessions were kept. The valuable possessions that Julia Felix grafted for and maybe couldn’t bear to leave behind. There’s no way to tell whether this skeleton is Julia Felix, whether these bones once stood and looked at the plots of land Julia bought and made plans, or whether they belong to a looter or a chancer or someone just caught out. But it’s nice to pretend that Julia Felix, who shaped the city’s roads around her dream and offered respite and luxury to workers and made a tonne of money doing it, died and was buried with the place that still bears her name."

A Rome of One's Own: The Forgotten Women of the Roman Empire, Emma Southon