#there was a point in time where all men had long hair or wore wigs

[especiallyhaytham]

The homoeroticism of seeing a man in the 1700s with his hair down

[lifespectator]

Family Halloween

Wanda Maximoff x Male Reader

Summary: A Halloween special I did. I hope you guys enjoy it!

A/N: Thanks to my awesome friend @ironboybooks for giving me this idea. Make sure to check out 'ironboybooks' on Wattpad. He's a great writer and some of the best x Male Reader books.

-

3rd POV

After a long mission, Y/n finally arrived at the front of his home. It was the same ordeal. Some terrorist group tried to get hold of powerful weapons and The Avengers had to be there to stop them.

He had to admit Sam, as team leader, made the missions quite enjoyable.

Y/n started walking to the front door of his home while on the phone with Sam.

"Another successful mission, Cap" Y/n said, making his friend laugh. "I'm still not used to that name." Sam responded.

"You should. You earned it." It was true. If anyone deserved Steve's mantle, it was Sam.

"I'll try, brother. In the meantime, Uncle Sam has to take his two zombie nephews out for candy before they eat him." Both men laughed as they said their farewells. Y/n hasn't entirely connected the dots of what is special about today's date.

Once Y/n opened the door. He made sure to be as silent as possible. He didn't want to wake up his wife and kids. That was until he heard some noises in the kitchen.

Unbeknownst to him, Wanda was helping their sons, Tommy and Billy, with their costumes. Wanda was going to take them trick or treating.

As Y/n entered the kitchen, both kids got out of Wanda's grasp and ran up to him.

"I'm glad you're back!" Billy said. Y/n just laughed and hugged them both tightly. "Is their no kiss for your wife?" Wanda asked in fake sad tone while pouting.

Y/n just chuckled as he made his way to Wanda. "I was saving the best one for you." He leaned down and gave her a tenderly kiss. "I missed you." Wanda said.

"I also missed you." Y/n said as he noticed how his Wife was dressed. "What's the special ocassion?" He asked, genuinely confused.

"Mom is going to take us out for candy! Tommy exclaimed. Y/n was still confused. "Today is Halloween, silly." Wanda said.

Y/n finally understood why Sam mentioned zombies and why the boys wore costumes at night. He had completely forgot today was the 31st.

"And what are you supposed to be?" Y/n eyed up Wanda. "I'm a vampire!" Wanda responded while doing a quick spin. 'A hot one.' Y/n thought.pp

"You should come with us dad." Billy said. "Yeah, that would be cool." Tommy supported the idea.

"I'd love to, but what would I wear?" Y/n asked. After taking off the combat suit he wore on the field, he just put on some jeans and a hoodie.

"Don't worry baby." Wanda continued. "I can fix that."

-

"Where did you get this cape?" Y/n asked. Wanda only smiled. "I bought it this morning while you were away. I wanted all us to have matching costumes." Wanda answered his question.

"I had lost hope that you would make it on time." Wanda said. Y/n only sighed. He's been thinking for some time now of leaving the team to focus full-time om his family.

Wanda put her hand on his shoulder and rubbed it. It was her way of telling him to take his time before making a decision

"Mom, dad. Can Tommy and I go to the other houses?" Billly asked. "Yeah, you're taking forever." Tommy said.

Y/n only laughed. "Sure, just don't go too far." Wanda said. Y/n felt his heart warm seeing how a great mother Wanda is. He also get's to call her 'mommy'.

"Well, at least we have some alone time." Y/n told Wanda to which she giggled. "We can have some when we arrive home." Wanda responded with a wink.

"How was the mission?" Wanda asked. "It was ok. A granade exploded right before me, but I'm fine." Wanda got worried and eyed up Y/n to find any visible wounds. "I'm joking." Y/n said, and Wanda smacked his arm. "Ow." Y/n playfully whined. "Don't scare me like that." Y/n just giggled.

"Is this going to be your new look?" Y/n pointed out Wanda's short white hair. "No, only for today." She responded. "Is it a wig?" Y/n got confused when Wanda shook her head. "Magic Remember?"

"Magic or no magic, you're still special to me." Y/n said as he carresed Wanda's cheek.

"Hey love birds." A unknown voice said. Y/n and Wanda quickly looked to where the voice came from. "Let's make this quick. Hand me over whatever you guys have on you." The guy pulled out a knife.

Y/n quickly got into a fighting stance, analyzing the best way to take the guy down. Before he can do anything, the guy just fainted.

When Y/n tried to figure out what just had happened, he looked to his left to see his wife smirking and the noticible chaos magic on her right hand. A smirk also plastered across his face.

"What would I do without you?" Y/n asked. "Their are many answer to that question but I'm the one who is supposed to get you tired tonight." Wanda said biting her lip at the end.

"Let's go get the boys. It's late already." Y/n said, pulling Wanda's hand.

-

The family had finally made it back home. The kids had collected a lot of candy which they were eager to eat.

"Today was fun!" Tommy exclaimed, jumping up and down. "I'm really glad that we went as a family." Billy said.

Y/n watched the whole scene and was happy. He was planning to find a way to spend more time with his family.

"Alright, boys, go clean up and change into your pajamas." Wanda informed. "Oh, and no candy until tomorrow." Wanda said as the kid's booed and turned to their father to see if he would intervene. "You heard the queen." Was all he said as the boys went upstairs.

"How long do you plan on having the white hair?" Y/n asked. "I can't take it off now if you like." Wanda responded as she lifted her hand.

"Don't." Y/n said. "Maybe we can, um, roleplay?" Y/n suggested shyly, making Wanda laugh.

"Have it your way Mr. L/n." Wanda said in a seductive tone.

"Let's take it to our room Mrs. L/n." Y/n picked up his wife bridal style and started walking upstairs to their bedroom.

The boys already enjoyed halloween. Now it's their time to enjoy it.

[ltwilliammowett]

The typical Pirate look

Pirates! We alle have a mental picture of what one did or should lool like once fitted out with the prerequisite eyepatch, wooden leg, earring, and outlandish clothing. Let's break down the typical pirate and let's find out why they looked the way they did according to the literature and how far it was true.

Earrings, (at this point it should be mentioned that I had already made a post about this) were worn in order to have an insurance for a proper burial in case they did not remain in the sea after their death and were washed ashore. Rings were also used as earplug holders worn by the gun crews to protect themselves from going deaf when firing the guns. Supposedly, I just want to mention it here, but I think this theory is rather unlikely. Through contact with Asia and the culture of acupuncture, pirates are said to have earrings pricked at certain acupuncture points in their ears to reduce hunger and release energy.

Capture of the Pirate, Blackbeard, 1718 depicting the battle between Blackbeard the Pirate and Lieutenant Maynard in Ocracoke Bay, by Jean Leon Gerome Ferris (1863–1930) (x)

Eye patch, it is a bit of a mystery, but it is the explanation that makes the most sense to me. Many used navigational devices that used the sun to determine their position. This could lead to the eye that was seen through slowly going blind and in order to protect it, the eye was changed and the one that was used before was covered to protect it. Of course, an eye patch could also be worn if an eye was lost or injured in battle.

Peg legs and hand hooks, something no one wanted to have, but could happen in a fight. As explained once in a question, these prostheses existed, but the Sailors who received them usually remained ashore because they could no longer serve on a ship and if the post of cook or Sailmaker was occupied, the person concerned had to remain ashore. Managers were more likely to continue with a prosthesis and delegate their tasks.

The parrot on the shoulder, not just a pirate thing. Birds were often on board, because they not only served as entertainment but were also good for earning money by selling the trained animals in the next port.

The clothes - this colourful mixture often came about through scavenging, after all, anything that could be used was taken, even if it was clothing. It didn't matter whether the style matched or not, the aim was not to win a beauty contest but to have something to wear.

Always drinking. Well yes, there was drinking, and maybe sometimes too much on occasions ashore and maybe sometimes on board. But pirates were always on the lookout for booty and for the navies, so they couldn't afford to have drunken men all the time, and so the respective codes often forbade alcohol.

Hygiene - was generally such a thing at sea, because bathing and everyday washing were not always possible. A pirate is supposed to have long hair and often a beard as well, because it is supposed to show a style that is detached from society. Long hair was normal at that time, or rather a wig - if they could afford it. Beards were one thing, but whether pirates really wore a full beard or not, is impossible to say. Probably none or a small one, because such hair was a breeding ground for vermin, which nobody wanted.

But where did this image of a pirate come from, as it was often communicated in the various media? On the one hand, this look was considered reprehensible and not socially accepted in a civilised way. The sailors of the Navy were said to have more style and not such a ragged look. The fact that all the aspects listed above fitted a normal sailor was often ignored. Most popular media about pirates were created at a time when there was already a kind of dress code in the Navy. And yet the image of the pirate described in the media has persisted and is seen as the typical look. 

[cocobeanncteez]

ATEEZ Hongjoong: Tame (Part 1)

Genre: Fluff, angst, smut, mafia au.

Pairing: Mafia!Hongjoong x OC (written in 2nd person)

Word Count: 17k in total, 5k in this part. (Part 2, Part 3, Final Part)

Warnings for all parts combined: Mafia themes such as torture, abuse, violence, human auctions, murder, drugs, guns. Mentions of rape, human trafficking, sex slavery, organ trafficking. Unprotected sex (pulling out), facesitting.

Other than Ateez, all other names are fictional.

"Where have you brought me?" you questioned, looking up at your uncle in pure detestation when he pushed you into a dark room and took off your blindfold.

"Change into that dress quickly," he replied, ignoring your question, pointing to a red dress lying on a chair. "It's time for me to make some good money." He smirked, giving you a look before leaving you alone in the dimly lit room.

You don't know why your uncle had brought you here. Your father recently went missing and now you were certain your uncle was behind it.

You rarely saw your father since you lived with your uncle and his family. Your mother passed away when you were a newborn and you have no siblings.

You glanced at the red dress your uncle told you to wear. It was quite short and had a deep V-neck. You sighed as you quickly wore the dress, looking into the dirty and damaged full-length mirror to see how it looked on you.

A woman dressed in a similar dress came inside the room. "I'm getting sold too," she said softly, making your eyebrows furrow in confusion.

"Sold? What do you mean?"

Before she could reply, two built men came into the room and grabbed you by the arms, forcefully dragging you out.

"Where are you taking me?!" you yelled, struggling to get your arms out of their strong grasp.

"Shut the fuck up if you don't want a bullet in your head," one the men said nonchalantly.

You could hear the familiar voice of your uncle and you assumed he was talking through a mic. You were thrown onto a stage, bright lights shining on you that blinded your vision.

Once your eyes adjusted to the light, you could see about a hundred people in the room, staring at you from head to toe.

"So who would like to buy this beauty?" your uncle yelled. All the men and even some of the women started yelling while raising their hands. You shivered, realizing that you were in some sort of human trafficking auction. Your eyes immediately teared up. How cruel could your uncle be? How cruel could all these people here be, selling humans like that?

You looked around, checking to see if there was any way to escape, but there were way too many guards, so you decided to go with the flow for now.

"We're starting from 50 million won," your uncle stated after the crowd calmed down.

You saw someone in the crowd raise a sign with their name and a number on it. "50 million!"

"70 million!"

"140 million!"

"250 million!"

"400 million!" a man yelled, causing everyone to keep quiet.

"400 million... going once, going—"

"500 million!" another man yelled. You could hear whispers all around you. You couldn't even believe how rich these people were, all their money obviously obtained through illegal means.

"500 million... Going once... going twice... sold!" your uncle said cheerfully and started clapping. "Congratulations, Mr. Byun! She's all yours!" 

-

Two of Mr. Byun's men took you away and made you sit in a black car while their boss made his payment. They were really handsome and dressed in suits. You were actually terrified, but you tried to act normal.

You saw a man with long hair and thick bushy eyebrows approach the car. He was wearing spectacles and had a thick moustache. He got into the car, looking at you as he sat beside you. You noticed that he had a gun in his pocket, making you wonder what exactly he does for a living, albeit you had a fair idea already.

"Start driving, Mingi," he said in a mellifluous voice to the red-haired man who was sitting in the driver's seat. Mingi nodded and started driving immediately while you kept quiet and looked outside the window, pondering about how you could escape.

"Take that shit off, hyung. It looks hideous on you," the other guy with blue hair said, grabbing your attention.

Mr. Byun took off his spectacles, fake moustache and eyebrows, and the wig. You didn't even realize that he was wearing a disguise before.

Your eyes widened when you saw him. His features were sharp and absolutely perfect. He looked like he was going to shoot for some fashion magazine. He seemed to be around your age; so did the other two guys.

You didn't realize that you were gawking at him until Mingi chuckled. "Someone is shocked." 

You blushed in embarrassment, instantly looking away.  You cleared your throat. "I was just wondering why Mr. Byun was wearing a disguise."

"Oh Byun is just a fake name he used," Mingi said. "His name is actually Hongjoong."

And that's when it hit you.

"Hongjoong? As in, Kim Hongjoong of Ateez?" you blurted out, making all the three men's eyes widen.

Hongjoong quickly reached under the car seat, pulling out handcuffs before swiftly handcuffing you. He took his tie off and used it as a blindfold for you.

-

Your hands were handcuffed to the armrest of a chair. You really hoped these guys weren't Ateez. But after seeing the other five men once they removed your blindfold, you knew it was really them: the eight most feared men in the crime world in the country.

You were so fucked; especially since you were in an interrogation room with an unconscious bleeding man in the corner.

"How do you know me? How do know Ateez?" Hongjoong asked coldly, a small hint of panic in his eyes. You regretted opening your mouth before.

You averted your gaze from the bleeding man. "I... overheard my uncle talk about you," you answered honestly.

"Hongjoong, let San take care of this," one of the taller guys with black curly hair said.

"No, Seonghwa, I've got this," Hongjoong said, his eyes not leaving you.

Seonghwa only rolled his eyes. "San."

Another guy with pink hair nodded before approaching you. Hongjoong sighed in frustration before moving to the side, letting San replace him. You could easily tell that Hongjoong had a short temper.

"I'm going to ask you a few questions so please cooperate," San said with a sweet smile, letting his dimples show. You would've melted for that smile if you didn't know that he was extremely dangerous. "So tell me, what is your name?"

"Kiah... Moon Kiah," you replied. 

"How old are you?"

"I'm 21."

"Who is your uncle who told you about us?"

You took a deep breath, already exhausting from the questioning. "Moon Younghyun." All the eight men look surprised.

"Your uncle sold you, his own niece, at a human auction?" Seonghwa asked with a frown and you nodded in response.

"That bastard," Mingi growled, surprising you. Why was he pissed about that? 

"What did your uncle tell you about us, Kiah?" San questioned.

You bit your lip nervously. "I can't tell you."

"Why not?" San asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Cause you'll shoot me or rape me to death due to how offensive it is," you mumbled. "And honestly, I'd rather not die that way." The boys were shocked at your sudden boldness, not expecting you to say that at all. Half of them looked offended.

"Excuse me, woman, we're not rapists," the guy with purple hair said, clearly offended.

You raised an eyebrow. "That's not what I heard." You were wondering where your sudden confidence came from when these men could literally kill you in a fraction of a second.

"Well, then what did you hear?" San asked. "Tell us and we'll honestly tell you what's true and what's not." You contemplated that; you had nothing to lose anyway if they choose to kill you.

"I heard that Ateez is a mafia gang engaged in mostly human trafficking, drug deals, raping and murdering innocent people."

The guy with light brown hair, who looked like a Greek God, cleared his throat. "Out of everything you said, only the drug deals were true."

You snorted. "And why would I believe you?"

"Well, why would you believe your uncle who just sold you?" he retorted.

"But you guys fucking bought me at a human auction!"

"Would you rather be bought by someone else who would actually treat you like a fucking sex slave?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. You kept quiet at that. "Believe me, Kiah, that's what the people there were for. They were all looking for sex slaves."

"Yeosang's right," San stated. "You should be grateful that we saved your life."

"What were you guys doing there then?" you questioned. "If you claim that you don't do all that, then why were you there in the first place?"

"Your uncle is our enemy. We had to see what he was up to," Yunho answered.

"Then why did you buy me?"

"You ask way too many questions," Hongjoong snapped in an annoyed tone, trying not to lose his temper completely.

"Joong, chill," Seonghwa said, making Hongjoong roll his eyes.

Mingi moved to stand in front of you. "I was the one who begged Hongjoong to adopt you," he said with a smile.

"Terrible decision," Hongjoong muttered under his breath.

You snorted. "Adopt?"

Mingi shrugged. "I don't like the word 'bought' so we're just going to say that."

You smiled a little at his words. "All right, Mingi, care to explain why you... adopted me?"

Mingi grinned. "Well, I've seen you a couple of times near your university’s hospital," he stated, making the guys look at him in surprise; they didn't know Mingi knew your face before. "And besides, you're beautiful. It would be such a waste if you were sold as a sex slave when you're so talented." Hongjoong gives Mingi a look that didn't go unnoticed by you.

You chuckled. "What makes you think I'm talented?"

"I've done my research," he said. "You're the only nursing student intern who is allowed to watch surgeries and help in minor ones."

"No wonder you wanted to adopt her," Yunho remarked.

You heard a groan behind you, coming from the bleeding man who just gained consciousness. You felt really bad for him.

"Don't worry about him," Yeosang said, noticing the concern in your eyes. "He deserved it."

"Why?" you murmured. "What did he do?"

"You wouldn't want to know," Seonghwa laughed before turning to one of the guys. "Remove the handcuffs, Jongho."

Jongho nodded and unlocked the handcuffs around your wrists with a key. You stretched your arms out in front of you, feeling a little free now.

"All right, I can go home..." you trailed off, realizing that you didn't have a home anymore. Your uncle would definitely sell you again if you went back there. Looks like you would have to crash at a friend's place.

"I'm afraid we can't let you go," Hongjoong stated.

Your eyes widened. "You're keeping me hostage?!"

"You know too much about us," San said with a small smile. "We're sorry."

You scoffed, getting up from the chair. "I refuse to be a fucking prisoner here in your dungeon!"

"Holy fuck, you're so tiny!" Yunho said in awe, stepping forward to tower over you. "I think I'm a foot taller than you! How cute!" he squealed. Was this guy really in the Mafia?

Before you could respond, Yunho lifted you up like a baby. "I'm gonna show you the house."

He carried you out of the interrogation room and up a flight of stairs until you reached a living room that could easily fit more than three hundred people. Your eyes widened at the sight of it; surely this was a joke, right?

You were in a luxurious mansion.

You glanced around in awe, noticing how one side of the living room had floor to ceiling windows, complemented with maroon and gold curtains. There was a large open-kitchen right next to the living room, and a wooden staircase on the other side where pictures adorned the wall. You wondered how many rooms were in this mansion and what the exterior looked like.

Yunho set you down on your feet. "You're free to move around the house, Kiah. We aren't going to lock you up," he said, chuckling at your stunned reaction.

"How many rooms does this place have?" you questioned while walking around the living room.

Wooyoung plopped himself on one of the sofas. "There's nine bedrooms, ten bathrooms, and six other rooms for different purposes."

"The guest room is still under renovation, so you will be sleeping in Hongjoong's room for the time being," Mingi informed. 

"What?!" You and Hongjoong yelled in unison.

"Not the bad temper guy of all people!" you whined, making all the guys except Hongjoong laugh. "Can't I sleep in your room instead?"

"You could," Mingi laughed. "But then my girlfriend would have my head."

"There's a woman in this house? Thank fucking goodness!" you sighed in relief.

Jongho chuckled. "There's three, actually. Well, now four."

"Where are they?" you questioned.

"Seonghwa's girl is on a mission so you'll see her next week," San replied. "I don't know where Mingi's girl is, and my girl is—"

"Hi!" you heard someone yell before running and pulling you into a tight hug. She pulled away and gave you a bright smile; you liked her already. "I'm Jiwoo!"

San chuckled at his girlfriend's actions before moving to wrap his arms around her waist. He kissed her forehead, making her smile. They were so cute! "This is my girlfriend, Jiwoo. Babe, this is Kiah."

"San and Jiwoo are the hyper couple here," Yunho stated. "They're both just so full of energy."

"We're going to be great friends, I'm sure of it!" Jiwoo said, making you smile.

Maybe living here wasn't going to be so bad after all.

-

Hongjoong's bedroom was huge. The walls were a penny brown and most of the decor was white and beige. There was a large TV right in front of the king sized bed. There was also a small flight of stairs leading down to a Jacuzzi that could fit six people in it.

You realized that you didn't have any clothes except for the red dress you were wearing right now. You didn't even have a phone anymore.

You heard footsteps behind you, making you turn to the source. A shirtless Hongjoong walked past you to the wardrobe, stripping until he was left only in his Calvin Klein hip briefs. You couldn't help but stare as he picked out some clothes to sleep in. You absentmindedly bit your lip when he wore his grey sweatpants and a black tank top. You quietly left the bathroom after washing your face, hoping he didn't notice you staring.

After several seconds, Hongjoong came into the bedroom, stretching his hands above his head. "You're gonna sleep in that?" he asked. 

You rolled your eyes. "I don't have anything else to sleep in."

Hongjoong sighed before heading back to the wardrobe, coming back with a plain white t-shirt. He tossed it to you and you went to the bathroom to change. His t-shirt smelled so pleasant, you couldn't stop inhaling the scent.

When you went back to the bedroom, Hongjoong was in deep thought. "You know," he started, looking at you from head to toe, secretly loving the way his t-shirt looked on your small form. "I just realized that you didn't really protest to live here."

You sat on his springy bed. "Well, I don't have anywhere else to go."

He scoffed. "Or maybe you just want to live here."

"I used to live with my uncle. If I had my own place, I wouldn't even spend a second here," you deadpanned.

"So you've never worked?" he asked. "Not even a part time job?"

"Do you think medical students have time for that?" you retorted.

"Whatever," he mumbled. "Looks like you'll get along with Yeosang and Seonghwa."

"What makes you think that?"

"They're Ateez's doctors,"  he stated. "Well, Yeosang mainly works as our hacker, but he's almost as skilled as Seonghwa.

There was some silence for a while until you spoke, "Are we even in Seoul right now?"

"We're at the outskirts," Hongjoong answered. "Gwanak-san, to be precise."

"Ah, near my university!" you said happily. "Actually, you know what?"

"What?"

"I can stay with a friend," you said. "He has an apartment right beside my university."

Hongjoong chuckled, but he clearly wasn't amused at all. "I'm afraid that's not possible, love." Your heart skipped a beat at the way he said 'love' but you ignored it.

You frowned. "Why not?"

"Well, you already know too much about us," he stated. "Besides, you've already entered the Mafia world. There's no going back."

Your blood boiled. "I don't give a fuck, Hongjoong. I didn't ask you to buy me and pull me into your stupid Mafia world!" your voice was rising. 

Hongjoong got annoyed at the way you raised your voice at him. "For your information, you got pulled into this world the second your uncle got involved in it! You lived with someone who's in the fucking Mafia!"

"At least my life was normal!" you retorted.

"You know what? Fine!" Hongjoong raised his voice, scaring you a little. "I'll personally drop you at your fucking uncle's house tomorrow, okay?!"

"You don't get to decide that and I'm not going back to that monster!"

"Then shut the fuck up and appreciate the shelter you've been given here goddammit!" Hongjoong runs a hand through his hair in frustration. You just keep quiet, looking away while your eyes filled with tears.

"Why the fuck did I even agree to buy a brat like you?" he murmured, but you heard him.

"Fuck yourself," you whispered.

In a flash, you were on your back, Hongjoong hovering above you.

"Don't you dare talk to me like that! You make me want to punish you so fucking bad," Hongjoong growled. Your heart was racing at how close he was.

"Get the fuck off me," you said, avoiding eye contact.

He grabbed your chin, making you look at him. "You piss me off so much, Moon Kiah."

You controlled the urge to roll your eyes. "Well, then tame your damn temper, Kim Hongjoong."

"Tame your attitude first, love," he chuckled bitterly before getting off of you. He lied on his back, looking up at the ceiling of his room. He clapped twice and the lights turn off, making the room pitch-black.

You bit your lip, wondering what to do. You couldn't stay here; you didn't even want to. You weren't meant for the Mafia world— you decided to get into the medical field so that you could save lives, not take them away.

You wanted to run away right now, even though it was half past midnight. But you needed a plan since you don't exactly know where you are were.

"I just realized," Hongjoong starts, smirking in the dark. "You haven't protested to sleeping on the same bed as me."

You snorted. "Why would I?"

"That's what girls usually do, don't they? And the guy will offer to take the couch instead of her."

"Well, I'm not like other girls," you stated. "I'd rather sleep on a bed than a couch outside, and I'm sure you'd prefer that as well. Besides, this is a king-sized bed. There's plenty of room for both of us. In fact, there's extra space cause you're tiny."

Hongjoong snorted. "Excuse me, I'm not tiny."

"You are."

"I'm more than half a foot taller than you, Kiah."

You shrugged. "Doesn't matter, tiny boy. You're still tinier than the other seven boys."

"But I lead them," Hongjoong said proudly with a smirk that you obviously couldn't see.

"What do you mean?" you questioned without thinking.

"Think, love," he answered.

You gave it a thought before your eyes widened in realization. "You're a... Mafia King."

He chuckled. "We actually use the term 'boss' but I like that," he said, pulling the blanket over your bodies.

"So the other seven boys follow your orders," it wasn't a question. You actually thought Seonghwa was the boss.

"Yup."

"I pity them," you murmured, but he heard you.

He scoffed. "You will be following my orders too," he said. "That's if we decide to make you one of us."

"Yeah... no, that's never gonna happen," you remarked. "I want to save lives, not take them away."

"Actually, you would want to take these lives away if you knew what these people do," he said, lying on his side to face you. "Ateez doesn't kill innocent people." You felt a little relieved at that; at least you knew you wouldn't die by a gunshot or something.

"And what do those people do that makes you want to kill them?" you questioned, turning onto your side as well so that you were facing him.

He snorted. "Do you really want to know?"

"I wouldn't ask if I didn't."

"We usually kill rapists and human traffickers. These people mostly target women and children. They kidnap children, rape them, and then sell their organs within the country or internationally. The women are usually sold as sex slaves or kept in prostitution centers. Some mafia gangs own strip clubs where their strippers get assaulted or raped by customers and they do nothing about it."

"Your uncle used to run a fake orphanage," Hongjoong continues. "I came across that place when I was fifteen years old and found out that they were keeping those kids there to sell their organs. I told my parents about it and we bombed that place after rescuing those children, and put them in an actual proper orphanage. Two boys who were just a year younger than me had escaped from the orphanage. They ran after my parents just to thank them for saving their lives. My parents saw a lot of potential in the two boys and decided to take them in. That's how Yeosang and Wooyoung became a part of my family."

The story really broke your heart; you couldn't even imagine what those two had to go through when they were just in their early teens. You were curious about the other six boys' stories too. You wanted to ask Hongjoong about it, but now didn't seem like the right time.

-

You don't really know how and when you fell asleep after hearing all those disturbing things, but somehow you did.

And when you woke up, you were in Hongjoong's arms.

You tried to escape from him, but his hold around you was too strong. You gave up on trying and chose to admire his beautiful face instead.

You had to admit, Hongjoong was extremely handsome. You've never seen anyone look this good while they're asleep. He looked so soft and angelic, you found it hard to believe that he was in the mafia, let alone a mafia boss.

You heard a knock on the bedroom door before the door opened, revealing San and Jiwoo.

"Hi!" Jiwoo greeted. "Good morning!" You wondered how she had so much energy in the morning.

"I see you've slept well," San commented with a smirk while gesturing at Hongjoong's arms around you.

You blushed. "Help me." San easily lifted Hongjoong's arm off of you.

"He sleeps like he's in coma," San said, making you chuckle while you stretched your arms.

"We're going shopping today," Jiwoo said to you. "You need clothes."

"I don't have any money, Jiwoo," you said.

She snorted. "You don't have to worry about that, we're paying for you."

You opened your mouth to protest, but San interrupted you. "We don't have any plans of letting you go, Kiah. Think of it as a gift for joining us." You just nodded in response even though you wanted to disagree. You weren't going to join a mafia gang; that was the last thing you wanted to do.

You had to escape.

-

You had just come back from shopping with Jiwoo, exhausted from walking around the mall; you were pretty sure that she made you spend more than ten million won.

"So Kiah," Yeosang starts, sitting on the sofa beside Mingi and Seonghwa. "You're a medical student, right?"

"Yup, majoring in nursing," you nodded. "Hongjoong told me that you and Seonghwa are the doctors of the gang."

"What were you planning to do after graduation?" Seonghwa asked. You didn't miss how he used 'were' instead of 'are.'

You gently cleared your throat. "Well, I want to become a surgical nurse for the cardiac department."

"Ah, that's great!" he said with a smile. "I wanted to get into Neuro."

"Why didn't you?" you asked while absentmindedly playing with a strand of your hair.

"Once you join the mafia, you have to sacrifice having a normal job," Yeosang replied nonchalantly. You couldn't tell if he was sad about it.

"I wanted to ask you all something," you murmured, but the three of them heard you clearly.

"You can ask us anything you want, Kiah," Mingi encouraged. "We'll answer everything."

"Well, if you're gonna keep me here..." you hesitated for a second. "Um, does that mean that I can't work?" Yeosang and Seonghwa exchanged a glance that didn't go unnoticed by you.

"You'll have to ask Hongjoong about that, but mostly yes. You won't be able to work," Seonghwa said. "It's too dangerous. You can only work for us." You only nodded, unhappy with the words you heard.  

"Can I at least attend my own graduation?" you were mentally begging they would agree.

"When is it?" Yeosang asked.

"It's on the day after tomorrow."

"Of course you can," Hongjoong said, entering the living room and plopping down on one of the sofas.

"Really?!" you squealed in excitement.

"I was being sarcastic," he stated, making your smile immediately falter.

"I didn't study my ass off for nothing, Hongjoong," you said, crossing your arms over your chest.

He scoffed. "Do you think I care?"

"Well, I do." You were starting to get angry. Yunho entered the living room, not saying anything due to the tense atmosphere.

"You'll put us and people you know at risk," Hongjoong shrugged.

"That's your problem," you remarked, pissing him off. "I didn't ask you to buy me, Hongjoong."

"Adopt," Mingi mumbled, but you ignored him.

You and Hongjoong were locked in a glaring contest. Yunho cleared his throat after a while, catching Hongjoong's and your attention. "Hyung, you disguised yourself. No one knows that it was you who bought her."

"Adopted," Mingi murmured, getting ignored again.

Hongjoong gave it a thought. "Fine," he agreed. "But we all will attend it too, whether you like it or not."

“Deal.”

You were seated in your respective seat, desperately waiting for the graduation ceremony to get over even though one of Seoul's top doctors was invited to talk. All eight boys and Jiwoo were attending your graduation. You wished your father was here to watch you graduate.

Once the ceremony was finally over and all the students collected their diplomas, you all gathered around to throw your dark blue caps in the air.

"I can't believe we successfully survived four entire years," Dongyoon remarked.

"Time to try to survive med school now," Yonghwa said and Chanhee nodded in agreement; they were on the road to becoming doctors. "But for now, let's get fucking wasted!"

-

You were at one of Seoul's best nightclubs in Gangnam; you didn't tell anyone in Ateez that you'd leave with your university friends. This was your way of running away. You were going to stay with Chanhee until you found a place.

Being a Tuesday night, the club wasn't crowded. Most of the people here were definitely high school or university students. After all, it was graduation week in Korea. 

You drank and danced with your friends until you were drunk as fuck and your feet hurt. You felt so relaxed, just paying attention to the blasting music while the alcohol in your system gave you some energy.

"Oh? Who do we have here?" you heard a familiar voice say behind you while you took another shot. You had no idea where your friends were.

You turned around and squinted to look at the man. "Moon Bojoon...?"

"Hello, sister," your cousin chuckled, putting his arms around your drunk form. You hated him with every fiber of your being— he tried to sexually assault you a couple of times. Living under the same roof as him was hell.

"Get your hands off me," you yelled over the loud music, weakly trying to push him away; he didn't even move an inch.

His grip around you tightened. "I wonder who father sold you to. How lenient are they to let their sex slave go out to party...? Or did you run away?"

You tried to push him away again. "Fuck off!"

He grabbed you by your arm and pulled you along until he reached the parking lot of the club. He pushed you harshly against his car, making you groan in pain when your head hit the window.

Bojoon moved his face closer to yours. "I'm gonna sell you this time," he whispered in your ear. "But I'll have my fun with you first, of course."

"Get away from me!" you yelled while your vision got blurry. Before you could comprehend what was even happening, you passed out.

[afriendlyblackhottie]

hii, i love your writing so much and the black!reader content u provide us cause god knows we need more of them.

i wanted ro ask u if u could do a story where chris meets the reader at some celebrity party and they become really close and they start to fall for eachother. Chris asks her to be his gf but then she becomes distant and they end up getting in an argument and she reveals that she cant date him because shes a stripper and people will probably talk shit about her work being with a celebrity as known as him.

thank u in advanced i love your stories💕

Honey

Summary: After telling Chris the truth, he wants to make things right.

Parings: Chris Evans x black!reader

Warnings: smut, strip club, lap dance, pole dancing, girl on top, fingering, swearing, daddy kink

(A/N: this has taken me for fucking ever and I have no clue why. I struggled, but it’s finally done. I’m so sorry Anon for how long it took. I also couldn’t settle on one single song because you all suggested such good ones so I left it ambiguous.)

Tagging: @titty-teetee @blackmissfrizzle @olyvoyl @liquorlaughslove @harrysthiccthighss @mariahthelioness29 @whiskey-cokenfanfic @olyvoyl @hqneyyincc @queenoftheworldisdead @iam-laiya @donutloverxo @slytherinandoutasgard @zaddychris @brattycherubwrites @love-more122 @ljstraightnochaser (wouldn’t let me tag you)

——————————————————————————-

Chris still couldn’t believe that you’d think he’d care. As if whatever anyone had to say about you would make him want to be with you any less. He doesn’t even know why he let you walk away that night. Or why he let you cry as you finally told him.

Since then he’d been going over everything that happened in his head. The way your eyes welled up as you finally told him the truth. The shock that ran through him because even though he knew how nasty you could be, you still kept up the facade of a sweet innocent girl so well. Which is what drove him crazy about you in the first place.

Except you’d taken that as rejection and he was too late to convince you otherwise. It didn’t stop him from constantly thinking that there was more that he could have done. Hopefully he wasn’t too late.

When you met at that party he was enchanted by you. By your voice. The way you wore your hair. Your beautiful smile. Like he’d met an angel in the flesh. He took you home that night where he couldn’t even wait until he was inside to fuck you, instead bending you over the hood of his car so he could give it to you right then and there.

Between all the fucking and pillow talk, he’d fallen for you. Somehow you’d become his first thought when he woke up and the last one before he fell asleep. He’d fallen for you quick and fast and was tired of the two of you just being fuck buddies. He’d thought you’d felt the same.

It didn’t matter because the truth had come out and you hadn’t talked to him since. He’d thought about texting you, but as corny as it was he needed to do something bigger. So that’s why he was in the audience watching you work that pole. As much as he hated that other men got to ogle you he was more focused on how beautiful you looked up there.

He chuckled because you would choose such a glittery outfit to do this in. Your makeup was all done up all bright and flashy in a way you didn’t usually care for. Your wig was this pastel pink. He was trying to ignore his anxiety telling him that everything could go wrong. Maybe it would, but he at least wanted to try.

“Is it possible to get a private dance from her?” He’d asked one of the bouncers, trying to use his Boston accent so it might not be as noticeable who he was.

“Who?” He asked making this face. “Honey? She doesn’t do lap dances. Something about a boyfriend.”

His heart sunk a little, but he had to do this. “What about for a little extra.” He flashed the money he had in his pocket.

He thought for a minute, before shrugging. “Go wait in room four.”

It took about ten minutes for you to walk in with a silk robe on. Still wearing that wig. He knew that look on your face. The one when you had an attitude. Suddenly he was thinking about that night you got a little snippy with him. He fucked it out of you by pinning you down and showing you who owned that pussy.

Fuck he needed you back.

“Look, I do-“ you stopped when you saw it was him. “Chris, what’re you- what’re you doing here?” You stuttered, your eyes widening.

He took a breath, shrugging his shoulders. “I wanted to talk.”

“You could have just called me,” you said.

“Yeah but I wanted to see you. I’ve missed you, Y/N,” he said.

You crossed your arms and looked down at your feet. Trying to stop yourself from smiling. You hated how he turned you into a pile of goo. Especially when he was trying to be mad at you. “How’d you find me?”

“I have my ways,” he replied, standing up. He pulled you into his arms hugging you tightly because he didn’t care if you had an attitude.

As much as you hated to, you pulled away from him. It didn’t matter that you wanted to melt into his arm. “You can’t just come to my job, Chris.”

He sighed because although he was expecting that reaction, he was hoping it wouldn’t happen. His heart felt like it was going to burst out of his chest. “I know. I just... if I had called would you have answered?” He asked. “Because I’ve been trying to call you. Fuck, what do you want me to do, Y/N.”

You shrugged. “I don’t know! I just... look I’m scared, okay. Scared of what people might say if they see us together.”

“I don’t care what people have to say.”

“Because you won’t be the one dealing with it!” You suddenly started to feel all teary eyed. You bit your lip as they started to come down your face. “I’m going to be the one getting comments all over social media about what a slut I am. Or about what an awful person I am. Or how I don’t deserve you because you’re fucking perfect.”

He sighed. “And I’ll be there to support you through all of it. Baby, I would never let anyone hurt you. Or disrespect you.”

“It doesn’t matter. They still will.”

“Hey,” he said, hugging you again not caring as you tried to push him away. Instead this time he held you cradling you in his arms because if you were crying he was going to hold you. “Tell me you don’t want to be with me.”

“It’s not that, Chris, I’m just scared.” You finally gave in. Clinging to him. What was the point of fighting when you just wanted him more than anything anyway.

“Hey, Buddy,” the club owners voice broke through your moment, making you feel like you were going to jump out of your skin, “no touching the dancers.”

Chris retracted his arms. “Sorry. I slipped and he caught me,” you lied. “He was just making sure I was okay.”

Of course he didn’t believe that. Looking at you through narrowed eyes. “Someone heard yelling in the next room. Sounded like someone was upset.”

“No I’m fine. We were just talking,” you said hoping that it didn’t show that you’d been crying. “I promise.”

“Fine, but keep your hands to yourself in my club, Pal.”

As soon as he left Chris sat down, pulling you into his lap. “So what do we do. Ball is in your court,” he said.

“I wanna be with you. I’m just... scared.”

He sighed. “Okay, well we don’t have to tell anyone right away. I just know that I’m crazy for you, Y/N.”

You smiled. “Really?”

“Mhm.” He kissed the side of your head. “Totally and completely crazy.”

You put your head on his shoulder. “I missed you, too,” you confessed.

“Yeah? What about this boyfriend I heard about?”

You tilted your head. “Boyfriend?”

“Yeah. The bouncer said you had a boyfriend so you didn’t give lapdances.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “That’s just what we tell them when we’re not in the mood.” He laughed kissing your forehead. “Or maybe I do have a boyfriend?”

“You want me to be your boyfriend?” He bit his lip. His heart was racing fast then.

“Maybe.” You smiled trying to play it off all I’m

“Maybe, but... I’m...” you pulled away from him only to cross your arms all self consciously again.

“Talk to me, Honey.”

You rolled your eyes. “You think you’re so funny.”

He chuckled. “I like it.” He grabbed your hand so you could sit with him. Making you perch on his lap. “Talk to me.” He pushed a piece of the pink wig out of your face.

“I’m still scared.”

“And, I’ll be there to beat up anyone who wants to talk shit.” Chris held you as close as he could needing to feel you against him. “So, do you like stripping?”

You shrugged. “It’s fun and it pays the bills.”

“Do you want to keep doing it?” He asked.

“I mean... maybe,” you replied. Sort of afraid to say the wrong thing. It’s not that you think Chris wasn’t pro sex work, but that didn’t mean he had to be okay with his girlfriend doing it.

“Baby, if you’re worried about money, I don’t mind helping out.”

“I know,” you said.

“And if this is something you want to do, I’m okay with that, too. I don’t care what anyone says.”

You smiled before kissing him. That had been all you needed to hear from him. Not that it would fix everything, but right now it was enough.

“Promise?”

“I swear on Dodger. So you know that means it’s pretty serious,” he replied. You chuckled and he kissed your lips this time. Craving you after spending way to long not being able to touch you. You were still tearing up. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you sniffled forcing a smile on your face. “So, I never gave you that lap dance.”

He chuckled. “Oh yeah. Baby, you don’t-“

You cut him off, putting your hand against his mouth. “I know I said I don’t give them, but I’ll make an exception for you.” You licked your lips, giving him this look that he’d recognized when you were trying to take his dick.

He glanced at the door first making sure no one could see them. Yeah it was just a lap dance, but he couldn’t promise that he would keep his hands to himself. You got up before leaning down to peck his lips.

“You can touch me however you want.” You started undoing your robe showing off the little costume you were wearing underneath.

“Fuck,” he breathed as he looked you up and down. As you removed the fabric that was keeping him from being able to see your full body. You turned around slowly giving him an eyeful of all that ass. He reached out to touch it.

“You like?” You asked all breathily, sitting back down on his lap with your back pressed towards his chest. You gyrated your hips feeling him get hard under you. His bulge pressing into your barely covered center.

He groaned into your ear. “Oh, I fucking love it.” He wrapped his arms around your his so tight. Helping you move. Making you mold into him a little deeper.

You bent your arm back so it was resting on the back of his head. He grabbed at your tits kissing your neck. As he pinched your nipple you let out a moan you didn’t hold in quick enough.

You put your hands on his thighs so you could brace yourself. Moving your hips in a circle so you were right on his dick. “Holy fuck,” he panted. You were driving him so crazy. He had to touch you. Had to feel how wet you were just for him.

He dipped his fingers into your panties. You were so wet he knew you were probably making a mess on his jeans. He didn’t give a fuck. All he wanted was to make you cum. He missed you to much to care if your pussy made a mess on him.

You had to cover your mouth this time because he’d started rubbing your clit. All soppy and wet. Your hips faltered especially as he lifted up your leg so his other hand could finger your pussy.

“Oh, my god.” You cried into your hands before falling back against him again. You uncovered yourself so you could kiss him instead. Pressing a hungry kiss to his mouth.

It was too much. Him doing both at the same time. You were trying to hold your moans in, but it was hard which is why his kiss just got deeper. Your cunt felt like it was weeping from what he was doing to you. It was way too much.

You were so damn tight. Like he’d dipped his fingers in velvet. While he rubbed your clit. You couldn’t hold your noises in, making you pull him away from him. He stared at you with a smile on his face because you looked so pretty all desperate. “You wanna cum for me?” He asked into your ear. “Wanna cum for Daddy?”

You whimpered, but still nodded because he was right you were so damn close. Hips still angled so you could feel his bulge underneath you. You needed it inside of you so bad.

You grabbed at his cock through his jeans. Needing to feel it in your hands. “You want this, huh. I could take you home and fuck you like a proper girl, but you want me to dick you down at work like a slut,” he said whispered in your ear, taking the hand that was rubbing your clit away so he could stuff his fingers in your mouth.

You moaned around them. Tasting yourself. Moaning as he found your g-spot while he still fingered you. You cried out as he made you cum all over his hand. Eyes rolling to the back of his head.

“That’s it, Baby. Make a mess for me. I want everyone to know when I leave who makes you cum.” He moved to your clit now rubbing it just the way you liked it was driving you crazy.

When your orgasm finally subsided, you got up so you could turn around in his lap. Now that you were facing him he kissed you hard. Grabbing at your ass.

You moved your hips. Looking down at the wet spot you’d left on jeans. “Oh, Daddy,” you whimpered. “You feel so good.”

“That’s it, Honey.”

You chuckled. “You think you’re so fucking funny.”

He laughed reaching between you so he could finally start to undo his pants. “What it’s cute.”

When you finally got to sink down on his dick, you cried out. You felt so full. Like he’d filled you to the brim.

You tossed your head back with your eyes screwed shut as he lifted you up and down his dick. It felt so damn good. You needed it so badly. Needed him to fill you up with his cum.

“You look at me when I fuck you,” he demanded. Grabbing a fistful of pink hair so you were forced to look at him. You opened your eyes so they could meet his. Biting your lip to keep for being too loud again. “This is my pussy don’t you ever forget it.”

“Yes, Daddy. It’s yours,” you breathed trying to not be too loud. “I don’t let anyone else touch me like you do.”

“Yeah?” He asked. “That’s my good fucking girl.” He groaned.

“You’re gonna make me cum again,” you cried because he was so damn thick.

“Cum for me,” he said into your ear making you tingle.

You buried your head into his shoulder as you did. With your pussy walls gripping him like that you couldn’t stop yourself as you started to milk him. Triggering his own orgasm as he captured your lips in another kiss.

“You two, out!” Your bosses voices almost made you jump out of your skin.

“No I’m okay!” You said. “He, um...” you tried to think of a lie. “Because he paid so much I...”

“I’m not running a brothel here.” He glared at you. “You get your shit and get out of my club. Honey, you’re fired.”

He was waited for you outside. Leaning against his Camero. You’d changed back into your sweats. He smiled seeing your normal hair. That bright makeup wiped off. Sad because he was actually really enjoying see you all overly sexed up. “Guess you don’t have to worry about dating a stripper anymore.”

He sighed. “I’m sorry,” he said before kissing you.

“It’s okay,” you replied with a shrug.

“Why don’t you come live with me? You won’t have to worry about rent. Or anything.” He chuckled.

“You wanna be my sugar daddy?” You laughed.

“No. I mean sure, but I wanna be your boyfriend. Do things like protect you and take care of you. Is that okay?”

You looked up at him through your eyelashes. “You have to promise me something first,” you said.

“Anything,” he said, grabbing your hands so he could pull you to him.

“Just when the news hits over us, you’ll fight for me. Won’t let your crazy fans treat me to badly.”

He chuckled. “I will personally tell off every single one of them.” He wrapped his arms around you, kissing the top of your head. “Want me to take you home?”

“Yeah I got picked up by one of the girls,” you said. “My place or yours?”

He chuckled. “Ours.” He smiled before kissing you softly.

[mobbu-min]

Can you do a one shot with Reigen? Where the reader and reigen are already dating and she sees him in the girls uniform. He tries to play it off as if he doesn’t know them but they see right through him. Please and Thank you!

A/N: Absolutely! I had a lot of fun writing this! Hope you enjoy💖

Paring: Reigen x gn!reader

Genre: pure fluff

Who do you think you’re fooling?

You had been on your jolly way after your frustrating visit to the grocery store. After encounting what the kids call a 'Karen', you were rightfully in a bad mood. That woman would not stop pestering you about the amount.of ramen you were buying. Saying it was unbecoming to eat all that junk, like this wasn't for you in the first place! Not only that but she had the audacity to complain and say rude remarks to the cashier.

"What an absolute bitch." You muttered sourly under your breath. Fixing the heavy bag on your aching shoulder, you groan "Reigen Arataka, I'm expecting the best message ever when I get back to the building."

Just as you were gonna cross the street, you heard people around you whisper.

"Did you see that man dressed in a school girl's uniform?"

"Yeah, he was dragging a poor girl with him."

"What a creep."

"I hope they get the girl help."

"If anything, I hope they get rid of the creep."

There was a certain feeling you got whenever you felt like your boyfriend was doing something he shouldn’t be doing. Currently that feeling was sending warning signals throughout your brain. And this seems exactly like something he would do.

Scratch that! This IS something he would do!

'Oh my spirits. I should have asked him why he was buying those uniforms!" You inwardly groaned in regret. Turning the elderly ladies you asked politely, "Um excuse me, by any chance did you see where they wander off to?"

"Huh? Sure! There were heading to Saint Highso Girls' Academy.” She said pointing to the direction of the school. She then asked, "Are you gonna go get that girl out of there?"

"That's the plan."

"Then we'll be rooting for you!"

You thanked the ladies for their kindness and quickly took your leave. Following her directions, you thought to yourself 'Reigen Arataka this is the last time you're doing an exorcism alone.'

It wasn't long until you encountered the two. Jogging over to them you were about to call out for Shigeo, when you saw them pushing him inside of the gates. A pang of guilt for not getting here sooner hit you.

Sighing you watched the two security guards question your boyfriend. Confidence oozed off him as he talked with the two men. You stifle a laugh that began to bubble at your throat at his snobby display.

Reigen was always one to do outrageous things for the sake of his business. And to be honest this might be one of the funniest to date.

 The uniform fit him perfectly and the red lipstick brought out his grey eyes. The questionable wig would have some people turning heads. Some goes for the god awful high pitched snobby voice. But with Reigen’s confidence, he pulls it off surprisingly well, his little hair twirling and sashay could probably fool anyone. Reigen could pass off as a teenage girl, a really old teenage girl.

There was only one problem…

“You can’t fool anyone with those legs!” The guard exclaimed, pointing to Reigen’s very hair legs.

That comment sent you over the edge. Loud laughter erupted from your throat. Tears began to form at the ends of your eyes. The stress from today left your body making you feel like a teenager again.

Reigen, however, felt his soul leave his body at the sight of his partner. 'Oh no.'

"Jeez, Rei! You never cease to amaze me! Hehe!" You giggle walking over to him. Grinning you patted his back softly.

"Excuse me, do I know you?" Reigen asked, his school girl persona voice on. You could see Reigen’s composed demeanor crack at the sight of you.

"Rei, hunny, do play dumb." You pouted.

"Sorry! I have no idea who you are!" Reigen taunted. He put his hands on his hips and turned away from you. His skirt shifting with his movements, giving everyone a nice look at his thighs.

Chuckling, you shook your head, "Yeah, yeah, yeah. I think I know the ‘Greatest Psychic of the 21st Century’ more than you would think."

Reigen couldn't stop the small smile that graced his lips. Shaking his head, he held up his hands in defeat, "Ok, you got me!"

You were about to speak when an awkward cough caught yours and Reigen’s attention. The same two security guards from before stood awkwardly waiting for your attention.

“Do you know him?” One of the guards asked you, gesturing to Reigen.

“I do.” You responded. Bowing, you quickly uttered an apology, “I’m so sorry for his actions. You see he’s mentally unstable and is quick to forget who he is. He had a very traumatic childhood.”

You could hear Reigen’s annoyed grumble from the back. Smiling sweetly, you asked, “Is it alright if I can take him home? I promise this won’t happen again.”

The guard in front of you sighed and scratched the back of his head. Looking at his partner they both exchanged nods. “I don’t see why not. Just make sure this doesn’t happen again.”

You thanked him and quickly grabbed Reigen by his hand. Walking away from the school, you both sat on a nearby bench. Silence settles itself between you both. By now the sun was already setting, casting a pink glow across Seasoning City.

“We’re going to wait for Mob to finish this job and I expect you to give him the earnings.” You said breaking the silence. Reigen watched you stare off into the distance, a small grown graced itself on your lips. Reigen couldn’t help but be a bit worried that you were mad at him. Though his worry cleared up after you turned to him suddenly a teasing grin replacing your frown. “And don’t worry I’m not mad. In fact I'm impressed.”

“Yeah?” Reigen asked, throwing his arm over your shoulder. Sharing the same grin as you. “How did you know it was even me?”

“Oh, you know. The unshaved legs and voice gave it away.” Reigen's grin faltered at your statement. Laughing, you continued, “Oh and the bill I got from the company that makes these uniforms definitely helped.”

Reigen watched you avert your eyes and fiddle with your fingers. Flustered, you stuttered out, “Besides, I know you enough that something like this would definitely cross your mind sooner or later. Honestly, I really admire your dedication to your job.”

 Reigen coughed into his hands and avoided your gaze. His face was as red as the lipstick he currently wore. Reigen's heart felt like it was going to burst out of chest any moment now. Your gaze and words sent shivers down his spine. Truly, you had him wrapped around your finger.

“J-jeez, you sure do know your way with words.” Reigen said. His face slowly reverting back to its normal shade.

“Ah, well not as good as you, Mr. Conman.” You teased, leaning back onto the bench while kicking your legs up. “I don’t think I could ever be as suave as you, Rei.”

“Well, I guess you do have a point. I do happen to be the Greatest Psychic of the 21st Century.” Reigen gloated.

Deadpanning, you thought ‘So much for being humble.’

The sound of young voices caught your attention. Turning your gaze to the gate of the school, you watch Mob exit alongside two girls. Smiling at their interaction, you beckoned Reigen to follow. Before you two could go to Mob, you turned to him grinning.

“First, you’re going to hold this.” Handing him the bag of groceries, you rubbed your shoulders. “That thing is way too heavy. By the way you owe me for all that ramen.”

“I can always give you a ~special massage~ when we get home.” Reigen suggested wiggling his eyebrows.

Softly punching his shoulders, you retorted, “Yeah right! Just buy me and Mob some good ramen.”  Reigen laughed at your answer. Walking next to him, you leaned over to him and whispered into his ear, “But that massage is always welcomed~.”

Rushing towards Mob, you called out his name and told him that Reigen was going to get you both ramen. All while Reigen stood red faced and sweaty. Once again his heart threatens to jump out of chest at your display of affection. It wasn’t rare, but it certainly never fails to turn him into a blushing mess.

Reigen quickly snapped out of his flustered state when he heard your cheerful voice calling out to him. Smiling at his favorite two people interact. His gaze softening at the wide smile that stretched across your face

“I sure am lucky.” He whispered to himself.

[teawaffles]

There’s No Business Like Show Business: Chapter 5, Part 1

T/N: This is one super-long chapter ( ; ω ; ) so it has been split into 2 parts.

One week later. This was the night Maya’s company had been invited to perform.

The West End of London, stretching from Soho to Covent Garden, was renowned for its large theatre district, crowded with historic names such as the Theatre Royal, Drury Lane, Haymarket Theatre, and St James’s Theatre, in addition to newer entrants. [1]

Right in the centre of the district was Piccadilly Circus. At this time in history, the “Eros” fountain had yet to be built [2]. Here was the intersection of numerous thoroughfares, with pedestrians and horse-drawn carriages coming and going, day and night — the busiest spot in London.

It was here that a certain elderly noblewoman drove past in a carriage. But the next moment, she saw a strange sight in the middle of the square, and ordered her coachman to stop the carriage.

“……My word, what could that be?”

The words fell from her lips.

In the centre of the square was a simple stage about ten metres wide, composed of wooden boxes placed together and covered with boards. Passers-by had stopped to look out of curiosity, and a small crowd began to form.

After a short while, a lone woman appeared on stage.

She wore a sky-blue dress and a long, blonde wig. The crowd stared blankly as she gave a reverent bow.

“——Ladies and gentlemen, good evening. We are a small theatre company hailing from the East End. I am Maya, its chairperson.”

She raised her head, and gazed upon the whole of Piccadilly Circus.

“You may be feeling confused as to why a stage has suddenly occupied the Circus, but first, let me express our deepest gratitude that we, a theatre company of humble origins, have been able to meet you in this miraculous way.”

Her dignified voice resounded across the square, causing a stir among the onlookers. As more people noticed what was happening and gathered in droves, the crowd encircling the stage gradually expanded.

“Without further ado, let us bring you a little dream in a fantastic world.”

Maya ended her introduction with a graceful bow. Then, a man appeared on stage. Facing the crowd, he began to speak in a sonorous voice.

“It was a radiant afternoon filled with golden sunshine. A boat cruised leisurely down the river. Small, young hands gripped the oars. They seemed to lack strength: rising nimbly, then falling left and right as if to guide the oars’ movements.”

“……Hmm?”

The crowd listened intently as he narrated, with accompanying hand gestures.

“Oh, how terrible: what a cruel fate this is, to meet three girls! I’m all warm and sleepy. But still you wish to talk to me! You move my feathers, and do not breathe. But I’m all alone. I’m no match for the three of you.”

“This— Could it be……?” someone in the audience murmured.

With his monologue complete, the man took his leave. Then, another woman appeared at a corner of the stage. Holding a book in one hand, she began to read fluently from it.

“Alice was beginning to get very tired of sitting by her sister on the bank——”

In tandem with the narrator’s words, the blonde-haired Maya gave a small yawn. It was as if she had swapped places with a young girl herself. Without realising it, the audience held their breath.

Then from the side of the stage, a person appeared wearing a vest and rabbit’s ears, with a pocket-watch in one hand.

By this time, the crowd encircling the stage had become fully spellbound.

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

“——All the world’s a stage. And the men and women merely players.” [3]

An actor delivered his lines from the stage of a gorgeous West End theatre, as its owner, a nobleman, looked on from the box seats.

The actor himself knew the height of his fame, and hence his actions were somewhat egotistical. Nevertheless, these were the acting skills of a true professional: his clear, bright voice resounded in every corner of the intricately decorated theatre, delving into the ears of his audience, and producing an indescribable feeling in their chests.

His salary was eye-wateringly high, but evidently, it had been an excellent decision to hire this actor. Still, despite his self-satisfaction, the nobleman had a pained expression.

The reason for it was clear. This was a renowned theatre company famous for its acting talent. Even though it was their opening night — a momentous occasion, the stalls were unusually empty.

He’d made sure to advertise the play well in advance, so this was unexpected. As he admired the actors, who were not bothered in the least by the empty seats in the audience, the nobleman stood up and headed to the entrance.

“Hey, you. Haven’t there been any more visitors?”

He directed his question to the young man behind the ticket window.

“About that— Just a while ago, it seems a show’s begun at Piccadilly Circus.”

“A show?”

“Yeah, though I heard about it from someone else. A stage suddenly appeared in the middle of the square, and it looks like there’s a play being held. It’s about…… that; the one where a girl chases a rabbit and falls down a hole, uh……”

Those keywords alone led the nobleman to the answer.

“——Do you mean, ‘Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland’?”

The young man clapped his hands in appreciation.

“Oh, that’s right. Yeah, that.” He sighed wistfully. “Ahh, it brings me back: I read it when I was a child. And as I recall…… was it ‘Maya’? It seems that’s the chairwoman’s name.”

“Wha……!”

Upon hearing that name, the nobleman recoiled in shock.

“That theatre company from the slums?”

A play held on a stage that appeared out of nowhere. The young man saw it as a mere street performance, but to the nobleman, this was something different. As soon as the image of the perpetrators surfaced in his mind, his face turned red with anger.

An extraordinary turn of events, happening right on the opening night of an important production — as if it had been carefully planned to do so. In other words, Maya and her company had intended to sabotage his production out of spite, by putting up a play out of the blue, and not even in a proper theatre. That was what the nobleman concluded.

To add insult to injury, they had chosen to perform “Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland”. To stand up to a classic with a piece of children’s literature. To pit Lewis Carroll against Shakespeare.

Although it was a ridiculous idea worthy of scorn, the fact remained that they had stolen his precious audience.

He posed a question to the young ticket seller.

“Well if that’s the case, wouldn’t there be a huge commotion? The Yard should be on to them any moment now.”

“That’s the thing…… It seems they’re already gone.”

Hearing that, the nobleman threw his head back in laughter.

“I told you so. It’s all because they’re out of their depth. They can recite their lines in jail for all I care.”

However, the young man made a troubled expression.

“Uh…… Sorry. I didn’t make myself clear. Actually it seems that after finishing one scene, they specified a different location, packed up their sets quickly and left.”

“……What?”

✦ ✦ ✦ ✦

“You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Alice; a great girl like you, to go on crying in this way! Stop this moment, I tell you!”

Behind the church of St. Martin-in-the-Fields, in Trafalgar Square, Maya and her company acted out the scene in which Alice shrank and grew larger, panicking all the while. The front of the stage had been covered with a white cloth, and a light shone on it from the back, allowing them to show the changes in Alice’s size in the manner of shadow puppets. As Alice grew until her head struck the roof, the audience buzzed in excitement.

Watching from the wings of the stage, Bond could see that everything was proceeding smoothly.

His plan to demonstrate the true abilities of this company, was a moving theatre that roamed all around the city of London—— a “guerrilla theatre”.

They would perform in busy areas to attract people’s attention, then quickly cut off their act and leave before the authorities arrived to stop them. After which, they would continue the performance at another location. One could say this method was the exact opposite of performing in an officially-recognised theatre.

There was a reason why they had changed the contents of their play. As their original performance comprised three short stories, there was a concern that the audience would grow bored after watching just one scene. However, staging a full-length play across various locations would keep up their interest for the next scene.

In addition, “Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland” took place in a nonsensical, chaotic world, with no apparent connection between its acts. As a well-known story in itself, anyone joining in halfway would still be able to enjoy their performance — a perfect work to be presented in this manner.

The main issue was the acting, but that was helped by their practice in performing on a big stage.

As part of this plan, the play they would put up was not of the type that drew the audience’s attention to the stage right from the start, but rather one that was performed outdoors to people passing by. Hence they would have to project their voices and exaggerate their actions, but this was simply an extension of the two weeks’ practice they had done before.

Moreover, Maya and her company had extensive experience in performing children’s literature, with a focus on ease of understanding, so much so that they had almost learned the entire tale by heart. Memorising their lines had been no trouble at all.

Furthermore, the preparations at each of the locations they moved to — the very heart of the operation — were borne by the East End residents, who appreciated their performances.

The plan inevitably required manpower, but there would be no point in Bond providing it. However, with the trust of their fellow residents, Maya and her company had managed to recruit the stage crew by themselves. This achievement was their own.

As the company performed in one location, the stage crew would set up the temporary stages in the other locations across the city. They had accepted the company’s request with pleasure, and Bond couldn’t thank them enough for the depth of their kindness.

As he looked upon the crowd, all standing with eyes locked upon the stage, Bond chuckled.

——Even without a theatre, there would always be a place for acting.

It had been a wild idea to turn the city of London into their stage. But the East End residents lent them their support. And Maya and her company were putting up an excellent performance.

In a manner of speaking, this play was an all-out challenge from the people from the East End, to the gilded theatres of the West End.

Ten minutes till showtime. The players announced the location of their next act, then quickly descended from the stage.

“I’ll be leaving the cleanup to you then,” Bond addressed the remaining crew at the square. Then he directed the actors to board the carriages he had prepared. Taking the reins of one himself, he urged the horses forward in a gallop.

“Um, we owe it to you that our audience has enjoyed our play thus far, but…… I’m not sure if we can continue to do so,” Maya asked with a worried look.

Hearing that, the other actors in the carriage, who’d been going over their lines, turned solemn.

Although things had been going well so far, if their acts attracted too large a commotion, it stood to reason that Scotland Yard would put its full attention into stopping the play. Moreover, bad actors may also seek to take advantage of the hubbub. As far as possible, they wished to avoid their audience falling victim to crime.

Bond fully understood their apprehension. Because of that, he kept calm as he reassured them.

“Not to worry. I have some dependable colleagues.”

Saying that, he gazed in the direction the carriage was going, and smiled.

“It’s a popular saying, isn’t it? The show must go on.”

The curtains had been raised. Now all that was left, was to play their roles to the end.

Footnotes:

[1] This district is known as Theatreland (Wikipedia). The first two theatres listed are still standing, with St James’s Theatre having been demolished in 1957.

[2] If you were to go to Piccadilly Circus now, you would see a very prominent bronze fountain with a statue of a winged angel on top. Actually, the statue isn’t of the Greek god Eros at all. (Wikipedia)

[3] A line from Shakespeare’s As You Like It (Wikipedia).

Translator’s notes:

Quotes from Alice in Wonderland All dialogues from the East Enders’ production have been heavily referenced from the Project Gutenberg version of Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, by Lewis Carroll.

Thinking about what year the series was set in In this chapter, we learn that the “Eros” fountain hasn’t been built yet — it was unveiled only in June 1893. But we know some events of the Phantom of Whitechapel arc, such as when the people of Whitechapel formed a militia, did take place in history — these were broadly in the autumn of 1888. So this actually works out, and gives us a sense of when the events of the manga unfolded.

Edit: The manga seems to be canonically taking place between 1879-1882 latest — you can read my analysis here!

Piccadilly Circus in 1868 This is entirely for fun — here’s a screenshot from the game Assassin’s Creed: Syndicate (set in London 1868), with Evie standing at Piccadilly Circus:

I couldn’t find any pictures of the Circus from before the “Eros” fountain was built, but in Yuumori’s time, it would’ve still had the circular shape shown here. When Shaftesbury Avenue was built in 1886, it transformed Piccadilly Circus from a circle into the sort-of trapezoid crossroads layout it has retained today (British History Online).

[snarkwrites]

ssw | juice ortiz ; when he can't go any deeper | m

Notes:

Okay so here's the thing.. This is a bit of a glimpse into the future / what if for a fic I'm about to start writing.. well, re-writing. Despite me knowing jack fuckall about strip clubs / exotic dancing / how to describe someone giving or getting a lapdance or pole work, I got the idea to have Hazel working two nights a week in a club, idk why.. Anyway.. The idea wouldn't leave me alone so here we are, loves.

Also.. I'm no longer just dipping my toes in the filth pool anymore. I went all in with this, oops rip. If anyone wants me to actually write the fic I have in mind for this... Pls.. I beg.. LMK.

Prompts:

taken from either [ HERE ] or [ HERE ] give or take. It could be one or the other or a mix of both at my own choosing.

kiss me up against the wall // moan my name as you come // when he can't go any deeper. - those were all the inspiration / prompts for this.

Fandom / Character:

Sons Of Anarchy / Juice Ortiz x Teller Morrow!OFC, Hazel

Fics Hazel can be found in:

None..Yet.

** the one I've used her in is being discontinued to do a rewrite.**

Warnings:

No minors, full stop. There is NSFW / adult content ahead. If you're underage, this was not meant for you -nor should you be reading this. If you choose to stick around after my warnings, this is strictly a you thing and it's not my problem or fault.

If you choose to go on and read this, these are the things present you need to be aware of: stripper!ofc - I admit.. I really am not too sure on how strip clubs operate, so.. if I'm wrong, sorry. lap dancing. thigh riding. body fluids tw. unprotected sex. That's pretty much it.

Tagging:

@brithedemonspawn

@chasingeverybreakingwave

@kyleoreillysknee

@sassymox

@twistnet

Other Stuff:

[ ABOUT MY WRITING | TAG LIST DOC - IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED, THAT IS. | FANDOMS I WRITE FOR]

I swear I wanted to melt into the floor when I happened to glance out in the crowd and see Juice Ortiz sitting in the back with his eyes glued to the stage. I froze where I stood behind the curtain peering out and for a good five seconds, I heavily contemplated just bolting out the back door of the club.

But if I did that, I’d be out of the killer tips I’ve been told I could get dancing at this place. I wouldn’t have an outlet to express myself freely, either.

,, I had to know this would happen sooner or later. Charming is a small town and the guys from Samcro do come to this club. Even taking the audition and showing up tonight was me, taking a huge risk… So I had to know this would’ve happened at some point if I actually get the gig.” the thought came and I took three deep breaths. The hope was that I’d center myself.

Spoiler alert… it did not happen.

But I did catch sight of a brunette wig. And I convinced myself that between the wig and the dim lighting and the fact that Juice was so far away from the front of the club where I’d be dancing on the stage, he wouldn’t figure it out.

I’d just finished putting on the wig when the club owner cleared his throat and nodded to the curtains in front of me. “You’re up, kid. Do this right and Tuesdays and Thursdays are yours. Fuck it up and you can forget ever getting a chance to try again.”

I scoffed at him for a second or two but he stared me down, humorless.

My favorite Motley Crue song began to play and I stepped through the curtain. Out onto the stage and just as I did, I happened to see that prick AJ Weston and the guy who bought one of the shops downtown making their way to the table right in front of me.

My stomach dropped.

Those cold and emotionless eyes locked on me and he smirked. Nodding to me and leaning in to the shop owner. His best buddy or whatever. I don’t try and keep up with whose pissed off my father day by day, so I didn’t exactly know names.

All I did know was that for whatever reason, my mother’s scared to death of AJ Weston. She thinks she hides it, but she doesn’t. And my mother is not a woman who scares easily.

Suddenly, my biggest worry wasn’t Juice sitting in the back of the club anymore. It was the prick sitting right in front of the stage. I strutted out on the stage, not bothering to make eye contact with AJ Weston, no matter how hard I could feel him staring at me, willing me to do so. I tore off the cropped leather jacket I wore over my favorite red lace bra and after twirling it in the air a time or two, I tossed it onto the stage, hitting the floor. Writhing. Arching my back and crawling around, whipping my hair around to the song playing. I kept away from the center of the stage because I did not want to lock eyes with AJ Weston. I literally had zero desire.

The crowd was starting to get into it. I started to feel that rush like I used to feel when I danced in Las Vegas. I completely forgot about AJ Weston, thankfully. And what started off as a bumpy dance got smoother. Even more so when I found myself searching the crowd. Finding Juice in the back and locking eyes with him. That seemed to cut out a lot of my nervousness.

My hands drifted down my body, and I caught myself pretending they weren’t my hands but Juice’s. Just the thought of him feeling me up, his hands pinning my hands over my head. Pressing into me. The way he’d feel strained against those baggy jeans when he bucked against me in the heat of the moment. I used my dirty mind to fuel the dance. Letting my hands wander down to the waistband of my leather pants, working them down.

The crowd was really getting vocal now. They usually do when the clothing starts to actually come off. My stomach fluttered nervously when I locked eyes with Juice in the back of the club and I actually saw the way what I was doing on stage was affecting him.

He sat up a little straighter in his seat. Spread his legs a little. Squirming around. He nursed a glass of whiskey and his eyes wandered up and down my body slowly. When I hit the floor and started to writhe around, my back arching and my ass up in the air, he bit his lip. Watching intently. Rubbing his chin in thought.

Out towards the front of the club, right in front of me, I heard AJ swearing. Laughing out loud. I wanted to strangle the asshole, especially when he really got started with all his stupid filthy commentary as if he were mocking me, as if he were somehow better than this place even though he was willingly sitting here, of his own volition… But I went back to blocking him out. Focusing all my attention on Juice all over again instead.

Imagining what I’d do if I truly had half the nerve. What I’d let him do to me if I weren’t so damn afraid of falling in love with a Samcro man.

Because if I were going to love one, I’d choose him. Hands down. If I were ever to settle, I’d want to settle with Juice Ortiz.

My song was nearing an end. My dance was slowing down. I made my way up the pole again, grinding it as I inched up it. Slowly. Seductively as I could... Eyes locked on Juice the entire time as I flipped myself upside down and started to wind around the pole, spinning slowly with my arm outstretched as the other arm gripped the pole to hold myself. And just before the official end of my song, I dropped to the ground, crawling away from the pole. Towards the front of the stage, bolder. Getting closer in the hopes I could at least get a little better look at Juice’s face because I was dying to see the expression on it right now.

I smirked in his direction and gave a teasing wink as I pulled myself off the floor and slunk towards the red velvet curtain separating the back of the club from the front.

“Stormy Knight, ladies and gentlemen. If anyone wants the VIP experience, find Vinnie.” the announcer called out over the rowdy crowd. I was just about to reach for the doorknob on the door that lead into the dressing room when a throat cleared behind me.

“Not bad, kid. If you can bring that every single Tuesday and Thursday, gigs yours.” the club owner was standing there, smirking. He almost looked like he felt bad for doubting me in the first place. He added casually, “Had three guys come to me about VIP dances. I usually leave all that to my girls to work out. That’s extra dough in your pocket, makes no difference to me. I know half of ya have extra mouths to feed.”

I eyed him, my mouth falling open.

“Three guys? Like.. altogether?”

“No, no.. Two were together. One was by himself. Belonged to one of the MCs. Just do me a favor and at least attempt to obey club rules, kid. Don’t go gettin knocked up on the clock.” the man laughed and I took a deep breath.

At best, I figured that the biker in question was probably one of the Mayans I’d seen sitting towards the middle of the club.

I was pretty damn sure I knew exactly who the two men were and after mulling it over because it seemed as if my new boss was awaiting a decision from me, I decided I wanted no part of the risk of having to give AJ Weston and his slimy friend a private show.

“I’ll take the biker tonight, man. I’m not feelin up to a three way.”

The owner nodded and mused thoughtfully, “Good idea, kid.. That one guy out of the two of ‘em looked like his elevator didn’t go all the way to the top floor. I’ll go get your biker and bring him back. You got room 3. That was Gina’s old room.” before walking away, disappearing out into the front of the club again.

“Please god… at least let it be the J.D Pardo look alike if it’s one of the Mayans.” I muttered to myself, not daring to get my hopes up that it’d be Juice.

A throat cleared from behind me. I nearly shit myself when I heard Tig Trager mumble with a laugh, “Okay Ortiz. Go get your girl.” before walking away. I did not dare turn around until I knew Tig was long gone.

“Stormy, huh? That’s one hell of a name, baby girl.” he mused aloud.

I turned around slowly. Found myself body to body with him. He was staring down at me intently, licking his lips. Chuckling as he shook his head and leaned in a little closer to whisper, “Does daddy know you dance, Hazelynn? Because if he’d been here… Seen all that…” he fanned himself and gave me a teasing smirk.

My mouth dropped open.

“How? How’d you know?” I stammered out.

“I saw your car parked outside… Life pro tip, princess.. If you wanna keep this a secret, I’d suggest parking around back. Or catching a ride. Because your car? Kind of hard to forget.” Juice’s hand settled on my hip and he pulled me just a little closer. His eyes dipped down, settling on my lips, a quiet groan coming when his intent stare made me lick my lips and fidget a little.. Melting against him a little before I could stop myself from doing it. Giving a sheepish laugh as I glanced up at him.

“Your secret’s safe with me. Relax.” he chuckled. He must have felt how tense my body was as I pressed against him. I let out a shaky breath. Parts of me wanted to ask the logical question, if he came here a lot, but also, at the same time parts of me definitely didn’t want to know. Those parts of me knew that if I did ask and he said he did, I’d get just a little jealous. Because it already happened whenever I’d see him at the bar and he’d have Croweaters flocking to him.

“Guess I owe you a VIP.” I teased gently, nodding towards the door with the gold star and the black number 3 painted on it. I reached down, grabbing hold of his hand, starting to lead him in the direction of the room.

“If you don’t wanna do this…” Juice frowned slightly and acted like he was going to walk away, but I stopped him. Made him look at me.

“It’s fine. It’s part of the job.” I gave him a reassuring smile as I opened the door to the room, stepping inside. Letting him step inside.

He closed the door behind him and we found ourselves body to body all over again. He muttered quietly, “Confession… I saw that Weston asshole and his idiot friend talking to the owner about a VIP dance with you so I went over and offered more money.”

Between the goofy little shit eating grin he gave me as he said it and the fact that he did that because he knows the guy creeps me right the fuck out, I was blown away. Before I could stop myself, I rose to tiptoe, gently pressing my lips against the corner of his mouth. “You’re an actual angel come to Earth, sir. You have definitely earned that dance.” I muttered softly as I pulled back to look up at him.

He bit his lip and my eyes followed the movement helplessly.

If I thought I was making myself wet on stage with my own dirty imagination, it was nothing compared to how wet I got when I locked eyes with him and realized that he was fully aware that I’d been staring at his mouth like a proper idiot.

I stepped close to him again and placed my palm on the front of his cutte, gently shoving him so that he settled in the chair right behind him.

Right away, his hands went to my hips. I lowered my hands, pushing his hands back down as I shook my head. “No touching. Club rules, Juice.”

“Oh, yeah. Yeah, sorry.” he gave an awkward laugh and I giggled softly. Sinking down into his lap slowly.

Maybe I was slightly exaggerating out in the hallway when I told him I could do this and made it seem like it wasn’t a big deal. The second I settled in his lap and started to grind against it, I could feel myself dripping just a little more. I rose up slightly and he sucked in a breath. His knuckles went white with the way he was gripping the arms of the chair. His eyes were absolutely glued to me and I smirked. Teasing a little. Acting as if I’d take off the cropped leather jacket over my bra only to pull it back up.

The third time I did this, he growled quietly. Bucked himself against me. When I whimpered and grinded myself down harder against his lap, he muttered in a heated whisper, “You feel what you’re doing to me right now, baby girl?”

Oh. I felt it alright. The way he strained at his jeans, cock still twitching and growing harder and harder. The little friction I was allowing myself wasn’t enough. My cunt was throbbing and I was getting so wet that I was pretty sure when I finished giving him his lapdance the poor guy was going to have a wet spot on his jeans.

“Mhm.” I answered in a daze, leaning in so that my lips brushed against the shell of his ear and my tits rubbed right against him. He whimpered and bucked into me all over again and when I slipped out of his lap, he frowned. I hit my knees, parting his legs. Staring up at him from where I kneeled on the floor and he shifted in his seat, gripping the arms of the chair tighter when I started to rise up. Swaying my hips side to side. Leaning in. Rubbing against him as much as I could get away with. Oh, I was definitely using this little VIP dance he paid for as an excuse to do as much touching and teasing as I thought I could get away with.

All those urges to touch him I normally kept at bay were finally being allowed free reign and it felt so good.

I settled on his lap again. He let out a long and shaky breath and we locked eyes. He was staring at me like he wanted to ask me something or he wanted to say something but he wasn’t sure how.

“What’s up?” I asked quietly.

“Nothin, it’s nothin.” he said it quickly. Too quick. I gripped his cutte and pulled him in closer. My mouth inching dangerously close to his as I muttered against it, “Whatever you want to say, say it. Trust me. I can handle it.”

“Okay, you asked for it.” he muttered. After a second or two of staring at his lap, he looked up at me again and asked quietly, “Did you wanna dance for me?”

“I got the owner to come get you, didn’t I?” my heart was beating faster. I thought it’d jump right out of my chest. I did my best to play as cool and casual as I could but every single part of me wanted to tell him that dancing was not all I wanted to do for him.

“I know that… what I mean is.. Forget it.” he went quiet. Looked down again and I gripped his jaw, making him look up at my face. “Eyes up here, Ortiz.” I teased gently, my smile falling away when I saw the serious and somber look in his eyes. I scooted away a little, an attempt to give him some space. Settling myself over his thigh instead of fully positioned on his lap as I had been.

“Talk to me.” the words left my mouth in a whimper as I pressed myself right against his thigh, rocking my throbbing sex back and forth over it. Getting wetter and wetter with each second that passed. And the ache. Oh god, the ache. I was on the brink of frustrated tears. And I couldn’t break down, I couldn’t act anything less than totally professional, because this was my night job and I was on the clock but God.. did I ever want to.

He spread his legs wider and took a deep breath. Trying not to touch me, but I could tell with the way he kept raising his hands only to put them back down on the arm rests of the velvet covered chair he sat in that he wanted nothing more than to do that very thing.

And the thought of those hands on me had me flooded in a split second. If there was any doubt before that I’d leave a wet spot behind on his jeans at the end of this dance, there wasn’t going to be by the time it was over.

Anticipation and desire had my stomach coiled tightly. I wanted, more than anything, to be able to pick up with this back home… Behind closed doors. Just him and I.

But I knew that tonight was most likely just going to be an awkward little secret. Kept between two friends. And it bothered me, because I wanted so much more than that but I was afraid to cross lines and let myself have that… I doubted it was even an option anyway because I just didn’t think Juice even saw me like that.

Sure, we flirted now and then, but nothing ever came of it.

God, did I want it to.

This heavy tension seemed to settle in all around us and I picked up on it. Juice groaned quietly, and after he nearly broke the no touch rule again and very nearly reached out to grab hold of my ass and rock me against his thigh faster, I leaned in.. Pressed against him as I continued to grind against his leg and muttered against his ear, “Most guys put their arms behind their head… Til they’re used to not being allowed to touch.. They get verbal too…” my words hitching in my throat, rushing out over each other breathlessly.

He raised his hands, locking them behind his head. Sprawling back against the chair. It seemed to help ease the tension built in his body too, because I felt him sort of melting into the chair a little and I smiled.

“C’mon.. Tell me what you want me to do.” I coaxed, fixing my eyes on him and biting my lip when I immediately found myself getting sucked far too deep into his gaze.

“Touch yourself.” he muttered. Raising up a little. Leaning forward. “Touch yourself for me, baby girl… Like you were when you were dancin out front.”

I let my hands wander.

They were shaking slightly and I just hoped to God that it wasn’t noticed.

Juice took a few shaky breaths and bucked a little in the seat. “Come closer.. Get on my lap.”

I moved so that I was straddling his lap and the way his cock strained against his jeans and I tried to stop myself, but as I started to rock myself back and forth over it, I whimpered quietly. My breath caught in my throat a time or two and my heart was beating so fast I thought it was going to beat out of my chest.

“I normally don’t buy dances if I come here.” he muttered quietly, shattering through my own current internal struggle.

Knowing this relaxed me a little. It was obvious he didn’t just going off the way he acted, but.. I still wondered. Some guys like to pretend it’s their first lap dance because it gets them going.

I’m not here to judge anyone.

I mean.. I have a good paying day job as a legal assistant and here I am.. Dancing two nights a week whenever I can find a club to take me just so I have some form of release.. Just so I can feel intimacy that for whatever reason, I tend to deny myself in reality.

I almost asked him why, but I remembered what he told me out in the hallway about outbidding AJ because he knew the guy scared me. And I stopped myself, even though parts of me hoped there was more to it than that.

My hands moved over my chest and I rocked myself over him faster. My breath catching in my throat as I felt myself rushing straight into an orgasm I’d been trying like hell to hold back the whole time we’d been in the VIP room.

I could feel my body burning up under his gaze and he leaned in again. Muttered breathlessly against my ear, “If you’re nervous..”

“It’s fine.” I pretended to brush it off. I acted as chill about doing this for him as I possibly could.

“Turn away.. I wanna watch you movin from behind, baby girl.” he muttered. The request caught me by surprise a little, but I kind of realized that he was doing it more for me than for himself.

I did what he asked, turning in his lap so that I faced away. My eyes caught his in the reflection of the mirrored wall in front of us. As I started to rock my ass over his bulge, he growled quietly. Bucking himself up into me. Biting his lip as he did it three more times. Muttered in a lust filled daze “Fuck yeah, baby girl.. Work that ass.”

Just the way he said it had me dripping all over again.

“Faster.” he panted, bucking himself up into me all over again. Harder.

I tried not to, but I found myself imagining that he was taking me from behind. A fist full of my hair and my tits pressed right against the mirrored wall in front of us. And I rocked myself back and forth over his cock, pressing down even harder. Moving even faster. Almost close to a blinding orgasm.

“Fuck.” I swore quietly.

Juice sat up in the chair. Pressing his chest into my back. Muttering against my ear, “ Did you wanna dance for me like this?”

“Juice, I told you already.” my head fell back and my eyes fluttered open and shut. I squeezed my tits and rolled my hips faster. My breath came in short pants because I was so close to an orgasm that I was throbbing. He was leaning in again to whisper. “What I mean is if this wasn’t your job.. And it was just me and you… Would you wanna..” he rocked himself against me all over again. Harder. With more urgency as he swore under his breath and muttered that if I kept it up, he was going to come all over himself.

“ Turn around facin me.” he panted, his lips brushing against my ear and sending a shiver rushing through me. I turned back around in his lap to face him. Raising up a little. Teasing him by putting my tits at level with his mouth. Squeezing them together before lowering my hand. Toying with the waistband of my leather pants. Teasing him like I’d take them off.

“ Tease.” he pouted up at me.

“ That’s kind of what you’re paying me for right now, Juice.” I gave a soft laugh as I tucked a finger beneath his chin. Pulling his mouth dangerously close to mine. He licked his lips in anticipation and when he did, his tongue brushed right against my mouth. I whimpered helplessly.

And I just barely kept myself from exploding.

“You’re tensin up on me, Haze… Somethin wrong?” Juice asked quietly.

Looking at me as if he were bracing himself for something bad to be said.

By this point, I was so caught up in the moment, in the way it felt to grind myself against his cock and get out all these long denied urges to touch him to my hearts content.. It slipped out of my mouth before I could stop it.

“Honestly? I’m a breath away from coming and this never.. Ever… happens to me when I’m givin a private dance.” my words came in a breathless rush and as soon as I realized what I’d just said, I lost my groove for a second or two. Slowing down. Trying to pull myself together.

Hoping to God that I didn’t just make things awkward for him and I in the future because I’d rather have him as a friend than not have him at all.

His mouth opened and closed and his hands gripped the arm rests again. Tighter.

“Do you know how hard it is for me? Feelin you dancin on my cock like this? Knowin I.. Knowin that this is probably as close as I’m ever gonna get? Fuck… If I were ever lucky enough to have you all to myself, baby girl...”

His words caught me by surprise. My heart fluttered a little and I swallowed hard. Going still in his lap just to stare at him.

The lights getting brighter and the music in the room going quiet had both of us jumping apart. I realized that probably meant my time in the room was done and before I could give myself a chance to back out, I slipped off his lap and held out my hand to him.

“ C’mon.”

He eyed my hand and took hold of it, standing. I practically drug him out of the room and then down the hall. Out the door and into the back lot behind the club. Once the door was shut behind us, I started to pace in front of him. Just trying to put it all together.

Torn between continuing to fight what I felt for him and caving in.

When he stepped in front of me and placed his hands on my upper arms, staring down into my eyes intently, something in me snapped and before I could stop myself, I had his back pressed against the door of the building. My hands caught his, holding them over his head as I rose up slightly and crashed my mouth against his mouth.

Devouring. Hungry.

At first, he didn’t really react. But when the shock cleared and he realized what I was doing, he came alive. I melted against him and he growled into my mouth, deepening the kiss. Teeth latching onto my bottom lip and tugging until I felt it starting to bruise. I let his hands go and they were all over me. Settling on my ass. Rocking me up against him and making me whimper and dig my fingers into his shoulders. I couldn’t melt into him any more if I tried. I was so exhausted from trying to hold back in more ways than one at this point that my filter was totally shot. I rocked myself against him clumsily, a begging and needy whine filling the space between our mouths as the kiss broke when I just couldn’t hold it back.

“Do you know why I almost got off giving you a lap dance? Do you know what you do to me, Juice? I.. I tried so hard not to fall for you and yet.. Here I am.”

He blinked in shock. For a few seconds we stared at each other, panting for our next breath. Neither of us saying a word.

Then he bent and scooped me up. Started to carry me towards the end of the alley where he’d parked his Dyna Glide.

I didn’t do or say anything to try to stop him. I didn’t want to.

I’m so tired of keeping him at arms length. I’m tired of fighting the way I feel.

He sat me on the back of his bike and I grabbed hold of the front of his vest, pulling him down. Pulling his mouth down against mine all over again because I just.. I was needy. I craved him on this level I couldn’t even begin to get my head around.

His bike came to a stop in front of his apartment building and he got off. Scooping me up all over again. Stopping just outside the doors leading into the building to grope and kiss me. Letting his lips stray down the side of my neck. Sucking a mark deep into my skin. I clung to him and begged breathlessly, “Juice, please..”

Neither of us was really stopping to think. I didn’t want to.

I wanted him.

More importantly, I wanted to be with him. And tonight just proved to me that I couldn’t fight it anymore.

The whole time he was trying to unlock his apartment door, he kept fumbling with the keys. Rutting right against me. Stopping to kiss or touch me. When he finally got it unlocked, he stepped through the door and stepped over to the couch. Tossing me down onto it gently. Following close behind. Pressing himself down into me and snapping his hips against mine, making me whimper. My whimper echoing off the walls of the quiet room. I reached down between us, tugging at the hem of his white t shirt and he rose up, pulling off his vest and tossing it at a chair nearby. Then pulling his shirt off and tossing it too. It settled on the floor in front of the chair. Then he was pulling me up. Tearing my bra away and tossing it out into the room. My hands lowered, tugging at the waistband of his jeans and he bit his lip. Gazing at me for a second or two with this look of lust and adoration in his eyes. Savoring the moment and what was about to happen.

Because it’s been building for a while, apparently. I just focused so damn hard on keeping myself from caving in and letting myself have what I wanted, with him, that somehow, I missed all the signs.

“Baby, c’mon.” I begged.

The term of endearment slipped out.

He gave me that little smirk. Rubbed his chin in thought as he let his eyes wander.

He worked his way down my body, using his body to part my legs. He worked my leather pants down my legs and I kicked them free at my ankles.

His fingers caught in the thin strap of my panties and they came away with a quiet tear. I tried to get him out of his pants again and he lowered my hands. Slipping off the sofa. I watched intently as he teased me, pouting about it. Begging.

I needed him buried inside me. Fucking me. Slow. Deep. All night long.

His pants fell to his ankles and he kicked off his boots and then kicked his pants free from his legs. When he dropped his boxers, I swallowed hard as my eyes settled on the way his cock stood at attention once it was free from fabric. He was pressing himself down into me all over again.

His mouth roaming over my tits. Tongue teasing my nipples as my back arched away from the sofa and I rocked myself against him. His free hand settled between us, circling his thick cock. Teasing it between my folds and making me shiver and cling to him. Try to rock myself against him urgently.

And then he buried his cock inside me. Shallow at first. Going still to let me adjust to him. I felt like I was being split in two and the feeling had me whining. Nipping at his chest, at any patch of skin I could get my mouth on just so I could muffle the way I wanted to scream his name at the top of my lungs.

I rocked into him clumsily and he growled quietly. His hands going down to my hips. Holding them still as he started to pound me harder. Deeper. So deep he couldn’t go any deeper. When he bottomed out, I dragged my nails down his back.

���Not yet, baby girl. C’mon, hold out just a little longer for me.” Juice coaxed breathlessly as his hips crashed against me with a bruising pace. I begged for release, on the verge of tears. The more I begged, the more he’d slow down. Stop to kiss me or leave marks on me. Torture.

Slow, steady and deep torture.

“You gonna moan my name when you cum?” he questioned, slamming his cock deep into my womb. Going still and capturing my mouth in a deep and passionate kiss. “ God. You’re so.” he panted, snapping his hips against mine, cock pistoning in and out of me with steady deep thrusts, “So fuckin wet I can barely stay in. Fuck. Shit. Shiiiit, baby girl. I wanna cum so bad.”

“Juice! Ah, -ah fuck. Right there.” my back arched away from the couch and my orgasm ripped through me, leaving me weak and dazed, clinging to him as I tried desperately to keep up with his pace, spent. Dripping. My walls vising his cock and clenched around it. Tears flooding my eyes because holy fuck, all I’ve wanted for the entire time was to finally be allowed to let go.

Juice stared down at me from above, a soft gaze. He caught a tear as it made a black trail down my cheek. Chuckling quietly. Going still to pepper kisses soft against my mouth and then trail them down the front of my throat. When he started to move again, he muttered against my lips softly, “It’s okay, baby girl. I got you. I’m right here.” as he pistoned in and out, the wet sloshing sounds accompanying each thrust he made seeming to make him move just a little faster. His hands were all over me and all I could really do was lie there, pinned beneath him. Whimpering his name as I tried to come down from the high. Stare up at him softly as my mind spun, replaying every single thing that led us here, to this exact moment.

“Oh fuck. Fuck baby girl. You want it?” his hips stammered, smashing against mine in a bruising pace and his words were swallowed by another hungry kiss and I nodded. Just when I thought he couldn’t get any deeper, he did. Striking against my throbbing g-spot a time or two and growling, biting. Locking his lips against my neck and sucking yet another big,deep mark into soft flesh. The warmth of his release flooded me, making me whimper. Overfilling me, because I could feel the excess slowly leak down. Puddle beneath me on the sofa.. I bucked my hips against him greedily trying to take it all because I wanted it. I needed it. I craved him so badly I couldn’t have put it to words if I tried. He leaned into me heavily, panting for his next breath. Spent. A fine sheen of sweat gathered on our bodies. I grabbed hold of his face and pulled his mouth against mine. Our foreheads pressed together and he muttered quietly, “Mine?”

“Yours.” it shocked me when the word bubbled out. It shocked me because a, I was saying it and b, I meant it. With everything in me. As soon as I said it, he gave me a soft and lazy grin. Pressing his lips to my forehead. He collapsed onto the couch settling behind me. Pulling me on top of him.

Quiet little soft kisses. Caressing my face as he stared up at me and caught sight of one of the bigger marks he left on my throat, grimacing as he chuckled about it quietly.

“Fuck me. Baby, that was amazing...” I groaned out in a daze, making him laugh and gaze up at me. “Give me an hour, babe.” he teased…

“Careful. I might take you up on that.” I teased back, melting against his body. Letting his arms wrap around me and hold me tight.

[stephpuppet]

POTC Fragments

I have a half dozen different plot bunnies I’m playing with right now, of which I will be lucky if I manage to finish even one of them. In the spirit of attempting to motivate myself, I thought I would post a couple of excerpts below the cutoff for anyone who might be interested. The excerpts are listed in order from “closest to complete but still super far off” to “LOL I’ll be lucky to even reach the quarter point”.  

Working Title: A Joining of Destinies

Over the next few weeks, Elizabeth developed a clear routine. Every morning, she went out to the docks to search for the Pearl. She was disappointed each time but the edge of it wore away with the repetition. She would usually stay for a while, sitting on a stone wall and swinging her legs, enjoying the sea breeze. More often than not, she would watch the dockworkers load and unload the crates, eyes often searching out the mysterious James Norrington. He cut a striking figure, and despite the diminishment in his station she could sometimes hear his clear voice giving out orders and organising the usually disorganised men he worked with. She tried to convince herself that the admiration she felt was entirely respectful and based on him appearing to be one of the few good men Tortuga had to offer. Then one particularly sweltering morning she found him working without his usual coat, pushing his shirt sleeves up over his elbows to bare his tanned arms and found her mouth going unexpectedly dry at the sight.  

Working Title: As Long as we Both Shall Live

A knock on the door interrupted Elizabeth’s musings. “Come in.” She called out absently, assuming it was the maid returning with a clean towel and shift. Instead James entered, looking far more awake and alert than when she had left him earlier. He was only partly dressed, still missing his coat and wig, but his fine dark hair was neatly tied back and the dusting of stubble across his jaw had been freshly shaved off.

He drew closer and lowered himself to kneel on the floor beside the bath so he wasn’t looming over her, something she had often complained about in the early days of their marriage where he was still being so stiff and formal and seemed to fear being too close to her, as though she might bite him. Whatever he was about to say however was forgotten as he noticed the chain she was idly winding about her hands.

Working Title: A Glimpse of Four Futures

Finally there are those that remind her of James. Often ex-military men- rigid and stoic. Firm in their beliefs, calculatingly efficient in battle. But every one of them turns out to be exactly what she had always feared James would be. Condescending and arrogant, dismissive of her thoughts and experiences. Insubordinate at best, mutinous at worst. Always declaring that they know better than her, and carelessly disrespecting her in front of all the pirate captains whose respect she had fought so hard to gain. Their smiles were harsh and cruel, nothing like the rare subtle expressions of joy displayed by James. They did not have his kindness nor his willingness to put her happiness ahead of his own.

At times she finds herself wondering what James would have thought of her becoming pirate king. Horrified at first, she’s sure. But could he have been convinced to join her? She dreams sometimes of how different her life would have been ruling with him at her side, but every time awakes cold and alone.

Working Title:  A Short Drop and a Sudden Stop

Time heals all things. The rage and anger never disappeared, they were only locked away in a neat little box in the corner of her mind, ready to be unleashed again should the opportunity present itself. She was still interested in sailing and the sea, so it seemed only natural for her interests to transition towards the navy that did their best to save her mother. They were at least more accessible to her than pirates ever were. Her childlike daydreams of adventure now imagined her as a blue or red-suited marine, sword fighting and shooting the very pirates she pictured herself as before. She bemoaned that she herself would never be able to join the navy, that being a man’s lot and not a path available to her.

[illfoandillfie]

please give me Anything himbo roger i need this like perhaps... him being obsessed with eating pussy? pls? - cloud anon

I’m so so so glad you requested more himbo rog because i love any excuse to write him lmao. This is a bit of a long one, certainly well over blurb length but what are you gonna do. I just have a lot of thots where himbo rog is concerned and then there was that convo a little while ago about dressing him in a maid uniform and I had to use it in here. 

warnings: smut, hypnosis & bimbofication, dom!reader, fingering, pegging, oral sex (f receiving), hand job, a little bit of spanking, a little choking, a very brief mention of public sex, free use (perhaps leaning ever so slightly into consensual non consent), humiliation and degradation

Blurb Advent: Day 15

Future Management Series (all my bimbo/himbo writing)

Taglist:  @vee-ndetta @atomic-watermelon @kellypenac @labessieisallama @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr @drowseoftaylor @hannafuckingsucks @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming @queenmylovely @ilovequeenmorethanyou @johndeaconshands @borhapbois @stardust-galaxies @cherries-n-rocknroll @rogersslave @scorpiogemini  

The costume shop was quiet when you entered it, one of the fluorescent lights at the far end flickering. The lady at the counter looked up from her magazine, her gaze lingering on Roger for a moment before she looked back down.

“What was the theme again?” you asked Roger as you flicked through a rack of women’s costumes.

“The letter M,” he replied from one of the other racks.

“How did Freddie pick that?”

“Dunno, you’d have to ask him. Bigger question is what are we going to wear.”

“What about Mickey and Minnie Mouse?” you shrugged.

“That sounds easy. And we’d look cute as fuck.”

“Sorry, hun,” the woman at the counter piped up, “Sold out of them two days ago.”

“Rats.”

“Mice, love,” Roger teased poking his tongue out as he went to check out another row of costumes, “We could make them from scratch I suppose.”

“Left it a bit late though. We’re meant to have them by Saturday.” You headed to the counter in the hopes that the woman there would be able to speed things up, “Do you have any other costumes starting with M then?”

She sighed as she were being interrupted in a very important task before putting down her magazine and pulling out a binder full of lists of stock. Flicking through it she located the section with M. An awful lot of it had been crossed out.

“How many people are invited to this thing? And do they all shop here?”

He shrugged as he joined you at the counter, “Roughly half of London if his last party was anything to go by. What are our options?”

The women smiled at Roger, her attitude becoming much friendlier now that he was involved, “Not a lot I’m afraid. We’ve still got a Mummy, as in Ancient Egypt, ummm, a Maid, as in French, Marilyn Monroe, Mary Poppins, a Monk, Mrs Clause, Medieval Princess…”

“Looks like you’ll be easy to sort out,” Roger said to you, “not much in the way of mens costumes though. I’d be an alright Mummy I guess,”

“Sorry, should have specified. It’s a women’s costume that one. Very sexy,”

“How do you make a Mummy sexy?”

“Strategically removed bandages. I can show you if you like,” she said this last part to Roger, suggestion dripping from every word.

“What about the Monk?” you suggested.

“Ehhhh,”

“Beggars can’t be choosers Rog.”

“Alright, it’s the backup idea. Would I be able to fit in any of those other costumes though?”

The woman thought about it, giving Roger a once over as if measuring him with just her eyeballs, “The Maid maybe. Think we should have one large enough.”

“Alright I’ll try that.”

“And I’ll go Marilyn Monroe?”

“You as Marilyn? Oh there’s a joke in there somewhere…something about How To Mary A Millionaire?”

You shook your head at him, “Just go and try on your dress,”

It was a good thing Roger had no qualms about cross dressing because the maid outfit fit perfectly. One look at Roger’s legs in the short, ruffled skirt had your mind whirring with ideas. He bought both your costumes, adding in a maid’s headband and fishnet stockings for himself and a blond Marilyn wig for you. And on Saturday night you watched him don the outfit once more, struggling to keep your hands off him. Without you knowing, he’d gone and bought himself a pair of simple black heels, explaining that if he was going to do it he might as well do it properly. Unfortunately for you they just emphasised the shape of his legs in the fishnets and made his hips sway as he walked.

 The party itself was fun but you constantly found yourself zoning out, thinking about what you’d like to do to Roger before he got out of the dress.

“Love?” he asked, making you blink yourself back to the thumping music and loud voices, “You alright?’

“Fine,” you nodded.

Roger frowned and grabbed your hand, leading you away from the main throng of people, “You’ve been zoning out all night, are you sure you’re okay? Haven’t had too much to drink or anything?”

“No, it’s fine. Someone lit up a joint before and I must have breathed in some of it without meaning to.”

He gave you a look like he knew there was more to it.

“Also, maybe I can’t stop thinking about trancing you in that dress.”

“Oh,” his eyes widened and if it hadn’t been as dark as it was you would have seen a light pink stain creeping up his neck. He glanced around and then pulled you off down the hall and towards an even quieter spot, “and um, what might that look like?”

“I don’t know, got a few ideas,” your breath hitched as Roger pushed you into a dark corner of whichever room you’d ended up in, “like the idea of you on your knees. Bet I could see your arse if you leaned forward enough.”

Roger attached his lips to your throat, oblivious of if anyone else was around.

“Maybe spanking you or edg – ” you were cut off as Roger kissed you full on the mouth, his hands already working at getting his underwear and stockings down far enough to get his dick out.

“We’ll continue this conversation at home,” he said as he lifted you up, pushing your back against the wall as he moved your underwear aside.

 It took a couple of days for the topic to come up again but Roger was still just as into it as he had been at the party. He’d clearly been thinking about it too because he had almost as many ideas as you did and for a week or so you discussed it on and off. It came up intermittently, sometimes a single idea out of nowhere.

“What if you tranced me and made me think I was your maid or uhhh servant? Maybe like acted really strict? Or mean even?”

“What about I get a bell to ring to get your attention but use the hypnosis to condition you to get hornier when you hear it?”

Or sometimes it was more of a conversation with each of you building on what the other said.

“What do you think about exploring that free use thing we talked about a few months ago? Like me just having you how I want and when I want.”

“Would that require a more extended hypnosis? A whole day maybe? More?”

“No I don’t think so. I mean, maybe longer than the usual couple of hours. An afternoon? Not longer than a day though, I wouldn’t feel comfortable doing that to you.”

“Then yeah okay, we did agree it sounded hot in a non-hypno way so mixing them together should work. Um, what about that pegging thing we tried?”

“You wanna do it again?”

“Yeah I think so. Again, it was pretty hot last time so doing it while I’m hypnotised can only be better, right?”

“Are you sure? We’re both pretty new to it.”

“Yeah I’m sure. I really enjoyed it,” he laughed nervously, “and I would have suggested doing it again anyway, this just seems like a good excuse.”

By the end of the week you had a pretty solid idea about what you were both looking for from the scene and what you’d both feel comfortable doing. And you arranged it so you were both at home on Friday, free to spend the morning relaxing and the afternoon playing.

After an early lunch in which you made sure to mess up the kitchen, Roger went and changed, once again putting on the dress, fishnets, hair piece and shoes. Only this time he wore one of your thongs, sheer black, underneath and a butt plug you’d picked up for him, complete with a pink jewel on the end. For your part, you dressed in one of your work outfits with a grey pencil skirt and white blouse, hopeful that it would make you seem more authoritative. Roger did a little spin for you when he was dressed and then sat in one of the kitchen chairs so you could talk him down into his trance. The scenario you’d agreed upon had him believing he was your silly brainless maid, hired to do whatever you asked. The sound of your bell meant you had another task for him, but it also made him extra horny. So horny in fact that he’d have trouble remembering what he was meant to be doing. As you dropped him deeper and he relaxed more, you noticed his legs spreading further open, making you laugh to yourself. Finally you rang the bell to wake him.

Roger grinned at you from the chair, “What can I do for you Ma’am?”

“Your first job of the day, Dummy,” you said, putting on a stern voice that left no room for argument, “is to dust off the bookshelf in the living room. It’s filthy up there.”

“Where?”

“Through this doorway,” you pointed and he dutifully stood up and began to walk toward it.

“You’ll need a duster,” you reminded him.

“Oh! Of course, Ma’am. Umm….”

“In that cupboard,”

Roger nodded, cheeks pink with embarrassment and retrieved the feather duster.

You followed him out to the living room, watching his skirt bounce with each step. He started off with the shelves at eye level, humming to himself as he brushed the duster over them, but soon had to move on to the shelves higher up. You perched yourself on the couch, acting as if you were reading though your eyes were on Roger, watching as he wobbled on his tip toes, his skirt riding up. You rang the bell and Roger jolted, looking around for you as he bit his lip.

“Yes Ma’am?”

“I think you might need to stand on a chair, Dummy. It doesn’t seem like you can reach the top shelves.”

He nodded and hurried to retrieve one, nearly running in his haste to please you.

The chair was a stroke of genius on your part. It gave you a good view up his skirt as he happily continued his dusting, especially when he leant over to get the far end of each shelf without moving his chair. You could clearly see the pink jewel every time and it made you eager to get him onto the next task. With another ring of the bell Roger jumped down to the ground and hurried to ask what he could do now.

“My shoes,” you said, pointing at the heels on your feet, “they need polishing. I want you to spit shine them for me.”

Roger blinked at you.

You clicked and pointed at your shoes again, “On your knees. C’mon, I’m not paying you to stand around and look pretty. Lick my shoes clean.”

“Yes Ma’am, sorry Ma’am,” he bowed his head and dropped to his knees where he stood, crawling over to you.

“Good Dummy,” you said as he trailed his tongue over the toe of your shoe. You’d wiped down the shoes earlier just to make sure Roger wouldn’t pick up any germs from them, but he was too brainless to notice they were already clean, enthusiastically licking at them. You made it clear you were watching him closely though. Midway through the second shoe you saw him brush his hand over the front of the skirt and stopped his shoe shining.

“I’m sorry, Dummy, is this making you horny?”

“Yes, Ma’am, it is,”

“Show me how much,” you wiggled your shoe under the hem of the skirt and pressed it lightly up, rubbing the toe against his crotch, “Hump my shoe, Maid.”

Without any more encouragement he began doing exactly as you’d asked, dragging his clothed cock along the top of your shoe, letting his eyes shut as he bit his lip.

“Alright, enough.” You pulled your food free and held it out in front of you, “Is it my imagination or did you make a mess on my shoe?”

He tilted his head to the side.

“I think you’re so fucking horny you’ve got precum all over my shoe. Is that right?”

“I don’t know,”

“Well,” you grabbed him by the hair and pushed him over the streak, “clean it up and tell me.”

Roger whimpered as you pulled his hair to move him where you wanted but thanked you for helping him and confirmed you were right. After that you felt he deserved a reward so you readjusted yourself, pulling your pencil skirt a little higher up your legs before you rang the bell again.

Roger groaned quietly at the sound, his breathing a little harder than before and then sat back. His eyes fell to where your skirt was gathered against your thigh as you crossed your legs.

“What now Ma’am?” he watched closely as you recrossed your legs, “Is there something else you’d like me to lick?”

“I don’t know. Is there something else you’d like to lick?”

He nodded, eyes still firmly on your thighs.

“Aren’t you just a pathetic little slut.”

“Am I?”

“I’m afraid so. Do you understand why?”

Roger nodded, still staring at your crotch, and then shook his head.

“Oh Dummy. It’s one thing to be my good little maid and eat me out when I tell you to, it’s entirely different for you to ask to do it. Do you see how slutty that makes you?”

Roger tilted his head and then shook it.

You tutted at him and knocked the bell as if on accident.

He whined at the sound.

“Crawl to the dining room. I want you to wash the floor in there.”

“But…please? I want to lick you soooooo bad and I’d be so good at it.”

“Careful, Maid. Now crawl.

“Yes Ma’am.” Roger dipped his head in apology and began crawling to the next room.

You stepped around him to retrieve a bucket of water and a cloth, placing both on the floor of the dining room where he stopped, “You know what to do.”

He looked at the bucket and back to you, confusion written all over his face.

With an exaggerated and exasperated sigh you handed him the cloth and, taking hold of his wrist, plunged his hand into the warm water. He gasped as you then wrenched it free and dropped it to the floorboards.

“Scrub.”

He nodded, looking mildly upset and dragged the cloth slowly over the floor.

You watched for a little while before coming up behind him, “Put your back into it, stop being lazy.” you pressed his upper back with your foot to make him bend forward.

His neck and face were bright pink, though it was hard to say whether it was arousal or embarrassment that was making him flush more. He did as you asked though, scrubbing the floor harder. You stepped behind him again, admiring the view and occasionally reminding him what you expected. After you felt you’d watched him struggle enough you stepped up behind him again. He pushed the cloth harder, expecting another reprimand. Instead you trailed you hand over the curve of his arse, pushing his skirt up higher.

Roger stilled, though you heard him whine softly into the floor.

“You’re doing a very good job, Dummy.”

He gasped when you suddenly spanked him but he pushed his arse back against your hand.

“You want another?”

He shook his head but kept pressing back against you.

“But I think you do,” You gave him another spank, “Now keep being good and see if you can earn some more.”

He nodded and smiled, though there were tears in his eyes, and then returned to scrubbing the floor.

 You let him go for a while, stepping out into the other room to calm down and get ready for the next part of the plan. You could feel your wetness pooling in your underwear with how turned on you were at ordering Roger around and how much he was enjoying it. Originally you were going to make him wait to get you off until after you’d fucked him but perhaps you could have your cake and eat it too. All the same you headed to the bedroom to gather the strap and dildo you’d bought when the topic of pegging had first arisen between you. You grabbed them and the lube and then put them down again as you considered your next move. The conclusion you came to was that there wasn’t much point having a desperate bimbo toy if you were only going to deny yourself. Roger came as much as he wanted when you were the one under his influence, so why shouldn’t you do the same. You quickly shimmied out of your underwear, and then picked everything up again, dropping it on the couch in the living room on your way back to see how Roger was getting along. He was still scrubbing though he’d spilt some of the water as he’d moved the bucket, the top of his dress wet in patches. You pulled out one of the chairs, standing in front of it as you rang the bell, and watched as Roger squirmed at the sound.  

“What can I do for you Ma’am?”

“Come here.”

He immediately dropped the cloth and crawled towards you.

“Good Dummy. Need your fingers to make me feel good.” You rucked your skirt up and dropped onto the seat, placing one leg up on the table.

Rogers eyes lit up and he leaned forward as if to lick hungrily along your slit.

You grabbed his hair and held him back.

“Ma’am?” Roger whined, struggling against your grip with his tongue hanging out, desperate to reach your cunt.

“I said fingers, slut.”

Roger whimpered again but brought his hand up, trailing his fingers along your slit.

“That’s right Dummy. You’re gonna finger me and make me cum and you’re going to keep your eyes up here so I know you’ll behave yourself.”

He nodded rapidly, his eyes on yours, “You’re wet,”

“You know how much I like watching your cute little arse work. C’mon, finger me,” you instructed, waiting until he’d sunk one digit into you before continuing, “Love seeing you with that pretty plug. Makes me want to use you.”

“Ma’am can I…?”

“I didn’t say you could talk. Focus.”

Roger’s eyebrows furrowed as he pulled his finger out and pressed it back in.

“You look confused Slut. What’s the matter?”

“Is this good?”

You smiled indulgently at that, half convinced he’d been about to ask to eat you out again, “So good Dummy. Add a second finger.”

He did as you asked, automatically curling them against you as he pulled them out.

“You’re such a good, obedient servant.” You relaxed back into the chair, letting Roger find a good rhythm.

He was quiet for a bit, concentrating, and then “Can I lick you now?”

You made a tutting noise, “I thought you understood your position.”

“Pos-tition?”

“I guess I have to explain it again then. I don’t care if you like licking cunt, this isn’t about you. You’re my maid. Your job is to serve me however I want, remember? I don’t care if you want something different. You’re mine to use how and when I want. Those were the conditions I hired you under, do you understand?”

“Yes Ma’am,”

“Are you sure? Then why haven’t I cum yet?”

Roger kept his eyes locked on yours as he sunk a third finger into you, pumping them faster and bringing his other hand up to rub your clit.

“Better,” you managed to get out, though it was much breathier than you’d intended.

Roger poked his tongue out between his teeth as he put all his energy into pleasuring you. You let your head drop back, rocking your hips in time with his thrusts as he sank his fingers deep into you, his other hand firmly occupied too. He slid his thumb between your lips and up to circle your clit, spreading your arousal over your cunt. The mixture of sensations sent you over the edge without too much delay, your legs clamping shut to keep his hand where you wanted it until you’d come down. Afterwards you made Roger hold his fingers up, cleaning them off with your own tongue. He whined and pouted as he watched you lick up your juices, so desperate to taste you for himself. You gave him a small concession though, grabbing his cheeks when you were done to force his mouth open. He looked confused as you brought your face close and spat onto his tongue, your saliva tinged with what you’d just licked from his fingers. But he thanked you with a big smile and a small hum of satisfaction as he swallowed it.

“What now Ma’am?” he asked softly, sitting up straighter and glancing at the bell.

You bumped the bell against your palm as if in thought, watching Roger wince with each ring, “The kitchen needs a tidy up. Go in there and wipe down all the benches for me, okay? I’ll be back soon to check on you.”

Roger nodded and walked on unsteady legs back through the house. You followed him, needing to point him in the right direction a couple of times, and then continued on to the living room to collect your supplies and remove your skirt. It took you a little while to figure out the harness. Last time Roger had helped you get set up so doing it on your own was a little confusing. You took a breath and reminded yourself you were a smart and capable woman and that you could figure out a simple sex toy on your own, and eventually got it on right. When you were comfortable you popped open the lube and spread more than you thought you’d need along the shaft of the toy. It still felt a little bizarre to look down and see a penis, even if it was obviously fake. The first time you’d tried it on you’d wondered aloud if the work you did for those living rough would have been easier to achieve if you had a real one and Roger had suggested you wear it to work one day and find out. You’d laughed at how ridiculous that was and the memory made you chuckle again as you double checked everything was in the right place.

Roger was in the kitchen when you arrived, standing at the bench with a cloth in his hand, humming to himself, though he seemed to have forgotten what he was meant to be doing. You stepped behind him and ran your hand up the inside of his thigh, over the stockings.

The humming stopped and he stilled, “Ma’am?”

“Bend over.”

He did as you asked, his chest and arms leaning on the bench.

You felt him up, letting your hands roam under his skirt, brushing over his cock and along his thigh and over his arse, making his shiver and whine. “Good thing this dress is so short, Dummy. Makes it so much easier for me. And it makes you look like a slut. You’re very hard by the way, does that mean you like it when I tell you what to do?”

His voice was soft when he spoke to the bench top, “Yes, Ma’am,”

“That’s good because I like telling you what to do. And you should be happy to know that I’m wet from watching my brainless maid working all day.”

“I am happy!”

“You are?”

“Mmhmm. Maybe I could help you Ma’am, I love cunt so much.”

“Aww Dummy,” you cooed, stroking your fingers through his hair, “That’s sweet of you to offer but it’s not what I want right now,” you took the fishnets in both hands and tugged until a rip formed right along the back, “For now I want you to stay bent over for me so I can use you. Just like I talked about before, remember?”

“When you said I’m yours to use how you want?”

“You do remember! Good boy!”

“And you said, ummmm,” he gasped as you moved his underwear aside and began slowly working the plug out of him, adding lube to make it easier

“Go one, what else did I say?” you asked as you pushed the plug back in, fucking him with it, adding more lube as necessary.

“Umm, you said they were the,” he stretched out the word as he thought hard, “oh! The co-com-bit-ons and that its, umm, my job to serve you?”

“Very good! That was so much to remember, I’m very impressed.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes, Dummy. I think I’ll have to give you a reward for remembering it all so well.”

Roger looked over his shoulder at you, grinning, “Thank you Ma’am,”

“Alright, turn back around, I’m still going to use you. Because….?”

“Because I’m yours?”

“Good boy,” you pulled the plug free and placed it on the bench beside you. Squeezing some more lube onto your fingers you began spreading it over his arsehole.

“‘s cold,” he said softly to the bench.

“I know baby, but it won’t be for long. And I gotta make sure there’s enough so that I don’t hurt you. And then you’ll be all ready for my cock.”

Roger nodded, flattening himself on the bench as you lined up the tip of the dildo and slowly sank into him.

Roger made a high pitched keening noise and you reached out to stroke his hair again as he adjusted.

“You okay, baby?” you asked letting the stern act drop for a moment.

Roger nodded, “yeah, ‘m okay. Just feels funny.”

“But good though?”

“Mmhmm. Good.”

“Good. I want you to like it. It’s more fun when you do.”

“I do!” as if to prove it he pushed his hips back, making you sink a little deeper.

“I can see that,” you laughed, “I’m gonna fuck you now, okay Dummy, and you’re going to enjoy it, right?”

He nodded, whining as you pulled your hips back slowly and then thrust forward again, figuring out your rhythm and adjusting to the sort of muscle movement it required. As you got more comfortable with it you let yourself be a little firmer, grasping Roger’s waist and fucking him harder, drawing more gasps and whines and moans from him. You varied your speed, sometimes faster and sometimes slower, keeping Roger from knowing exactly what you would do next (and giving yourself a break every so often). He’d taken your instruction to enjoy it to heart though. His fingernails scraped along the top of the bench as he tried to ground himself, rocking his hips back against you whenever you slowed.

“I want you to cum, Dummy. Rub your cock through your pretty sheer panties.”

“Th-through?”

“Over your panties.”

“Um,”

You stilled your hips and pulled out of him so you could grab his hand and lift his skirt, placing his palm over his cock, “now rub.”

He nodded, swallowing hard as he began to stroke himself. His hand stilled as you plunged into him again but a warning word made him remember what you wanted and he shakily followed your orders as you fucked him hard.

“How does it feel, Maid, being used for my entertainment?”

Roger babbled something incomprehensible in response. You couldn’t tell if it was just noise or if he’d been trying to form words but it was hot either way.

“C’mon, show me how much you like being my pretty little fuck doll. Be the pathetic little slut I know you are, and cum.” You panted between the words but Roger didn’t seem to notice or if he did he didn’t care. It must have sounded authoritative enough because a few seconds later he was moaning, his fingers twitching and legs shaking as he came. You slowed to a stop and replaced the dildo with his plug again before fixing his underwear and smoothing down his skirt.

“There, all pretty again,”

“Thank you Ma’am,” he sighed.

You patted his head, “Finish up cleaning off the benches in here and I’ll have another job for you.” You walked off, releasing a long breath once you were out of his hearing.

 In the time it took you to get out of the harness, put your skirt back on, throw the dildo into a sink of hot water and relocate the bell, Roger achieved very little. He hadn’t moved from where you’d bent him over though he had stood up and grabbed his cloth again, drawing circles with it over the benchtop. When you came back to get him for his next job he was shifting from foot to foot.

“What’s the matter, Dummy?”

“Nothing,”

“Are you sure?”

He nodded though he didn’t meet your eye.

“Tell me.”

“My panties…”

“Aww, is it a bit uncomfortable?”

He nodded vigorously.

“Well maybe I can distract you.” You rang the bell and watched as his eyes glazed over and his hips jolted. “The bed needs to be made Dummy. Go on, off you go.”

He nodded and hurried off, his heels clicking against the wooden floorboards, his step awkward as he squirmed in discomfort. You followed him and showed him where to get a clean sheet from, watching as he pottered around the bed pulling off all the bedding, throwing them into a pile on the floor. Putting a new fitted sheet on the mattress seemed to be too hard a task though. It was almost cartoonish how much he struggled, placing the wrong corner of the sheet on the wrong corner of the bed and then somehow repeating the same mistake when he tried to turn the sheet around. He wouldn’t stand still, uncomfortably dancing around in his cum soaked underwear, getting more and more frustrated as the corner he thought he’d got on flew up when he tried to fit the next one. Every so often you jangled the bell under the guise of getting his attention to give him a helpful tip or reprimand him for taking so long, but it had the added effect of turning him on more than he already was, his face flushed and his eyes begging. You let him continue for a few minutes and then, when he next turned in response to your bell, you surprised him by pushing him onto the mattress.

“Ma’am?” he asked, voice trembling as you positioned yourself on his thigh and pushed his dress up.

“You made such a mess before, didn’t you? Ruined your panties and I’m afraid it’s spread to your pretty dress,” you showed him the patches on the inside of the skirt from where it had rubbed against the sheer fabric of his knickers and been stained. “Lucky for you I like messy little sluts. And” you palmed him roughly, “I think you like it too. Already hard again?”

Roger shook his head but tilted his head back and whined.

You placed your hand over his throat, “Don’t lie to me, Maid. I can see it; I can feel it. You’re a dirty little slut who gets off on being my property. My dumb little fuck doll.” You punctuated the last sentence by grinding against his thigh with each word, squeezing his length through his stained underwear. “I’m going to make you cum again now and if you’re good I might see about letting you eat me out. I did promise you a reward earlier,”

“Please,” Roger whimpered, “I’ll make you feel so, so good.”

“I know, Dummy. But not yet.” You squeezed his throat at the same time you rubbed your hand over his cock, choking off the moan that had begun to build. Roger squirmed under you as you wanked him off, cooing at him about how pretty he looked and how wet it was making you. Each stroke along his shaft was accompanied by a breathy whine or moan, his head tilted back and his eyes fluttering shut. It was always fun to watch Roger be pushed towards release when he was tranced. It was fun when he wasn’t hypnotised either but there was something about taking his brain away that made him more animated and vocal. He babbled at you again, his hand grabbing your wrist as he got closer, his back arching as he tried to buck his hips up into you.

“Good boy, good Dummy,” you praised him as he finished, able to feel the warmth of his release fill the material again as you kept stroking him, milking every drop you could. He whined loudly as he became more sensitive, but you kept toying with him until tears began leaking from the corners of his eyes.

“Alright, Dummy, stay there while I take my skirt off.”

Roger remained lying where you left him, so you gave him a soft kiss and wiped away his tears, praising him a little more, before you swung your leg over his face and finally let him have what he wanted.  

 It was as if you’d told him he’d won the lottery. He just about cheered as he thanked you repeatedly and then wrapped his arms around your thighs to pull you down onto his tongue. You had to stick out an arm to try and steady yourself as he devoured you, excitedly tracing your lips with his tongue, sucking them into his mouth. He hummed and whimpered against you and used his hands to encourage you to rock yourself against his mouth, spreading your wetness across his face. At one point, so giddy with joy, he giggled, and you jolted at the bizarre tickling sensation of his breath. But that just seemed to spur him on as he licked and sucked every inch of your cunt he could reach. You weren’t sure if his end goal was to make you cum or if he just got very excited and enthusiastic about pussy but, either way, the result was the same. It was impossible to hold back your release as his tongue slid along your folds and his lips latched onto you. He hummed as you gasped and tensed above him, refusing to stop until you pried his hands from your thighs and let yourself fall back to the bed. He pouted as if he wanted to throw a tantrum at having his favourite food taken away, but you managed to make him smile by telling him how incredible you felt and how good he was.

He let you lie down next to him and listened quietly as you talked him out of the trance, reminding him who he was and the reality of your situation. You waited as Roger opened his eyes, stroking his hair back from his face softly as everything returned to him.

“Wow,” was the first thing he said, “That was,” he cleared his throat and pushed himself to sit up, “that was something.”

“Yeah?”

“I mean, a very fun something,” he hurried to clarify so you wouldn’t worry, “I take it you enjoyed yourself too?”

You laughed and nodded, “Definitely. This is going to sound bad but I like being mean to you.”

“I get it,” he leaned over to kiss you softly, “I like being mean to you too.”

“And the pegging and free use stuff? All of that was okay? How do you feel now?”

“Oh, better than okay. That was brilliant. We’re definitely playing with them more in the future. Bit sore now and I really, really want to get out of this thong. Also take the plug out.”

“I can arrange that. D’you want some help with the plug?”

“Yes please.” Roger shifted onto his stomach, trying to relax so you could peel off the underwear and slowly wiggle the plug out of his arse, “Add these knickers to the list of ones I’ve ruined though.”

“That’s only cause I get such a kick out of making you cum in your pants.”

He hummed, wincing a little as the plug slipped all the way out, “y’know one of these days I’m going to wake up from a trance and decide to gag you with whatever underwear you made me destroy while I keep eating you out. I still have a bit of a lingering need to have my head between your legs and I do so enjoy overstimulating you.”

“Save that for a special occasion,” you laughed, giving his bum a tap to let him know he could roll over, “C’mon, shall I run us a bath?”

Roger nodded and let you pull him up, kissing you softly before he stood on slightly wobbly legs followed you out of the bedroom.

[nordens-lejon]

Pervitin and Skis

Sufin oneshot I wrote last night.

During WW2, Timo finds himself in the hospital after an accident. Berwald comes to visit him. Based on a true story.

7 April 1944

Timo had never imagined he’d be grateful to find himself in a hospital. But then again, he’d never expected to find himself spending a week in a snow-filled ditch with one calf reduced to mincemeat. A lumpy hospital bed felt like heaven compared to that. The bed was warm and clean, and he could sleep as much as he wanted. The nurses fed him spoonfuls of broth and mashed potatoes. Small portions, so as not to upset his stomach after two weeks without proper food.

The hospital had given Timo a private room, which had annoyed him at first. He’d been fighting with the other soldiers, so sure it was only fair that he got the same treatment as the humans in the military ward. The doctors said it was an attempt to keep the gossip down, and on some level, Timo understood that. The personification of Finland injured and hospitalized? Oh, the Soviets would have a propaganda field day with that.

Someone knocked. That was odd -- the doctors and nurses were coming in whether he liked it or not. Timo thought it might be the timid new orderly, but it was a tall, thin man in an ill-fitting gray suit, messenger bag at his side. A sickly-looking mustache perched on his upper lip.

“Sve!” Timo tried to sit up, but he got nowhere and it only made his stitches hurt. Sure, Berwald was dressed like he’d lost all vestige of fashion sense, but it was him nonetheless. “Oh, I must look horrid, but I never thought…”

“Shhhhh.” It came out as a sharp hiss, but Berwald quietly crossed the room and pulled a chair to the bedside.

“How did you get in?” Timo whispered. He held out a hand, and Berwald immediately took it. “They don’t want anyone to know I’m here. And aren’t you still technically neutral in the war? What if the Soviets find out that you visited? It’ll look like you’re taking sides.”

“The Soviets won’t find out.” Berwald ran his thumb over the back of Timo’s hand. “I set a trail. They think I’m in Malmo. As for the Finns,” he pulled out a badge and a bundle of documents, “I got papers. They think your boss sent me.” The print of the badge was just big enough for Timo to catch the words Director of Cadaver Gynecology.

“So that’s why you grew this.” Timo wiggled his hand free and reached for the mustache.

“Yeah.” Berwald gently pushed Timo back against the pillows with one big hand.

“It’s hideous. I hate it.”

“Sorry.”

“You needed a disguise, I get that, but holy Martin Luther, please shave that thing as soon as you can and never grow it out again. Maybe you should get a wig next time, because with that thing on your face, I can almost imagine myself turning down a kiss. Almost. Just maybe.”

Berwald’s eye sparkled and he pressed a kiss to Timo’s knuckles.

“Oh, you sap. You’re hopeless.” Timo chuckled in spite of himself.

“I am.”

“Of course you are. So you found out I’m here. Something must’ve leaked. What did you hear? They told me they don’t want the story to blow up. There’s the Soviets, and besides, it could hurt national morale.”

Berwald blinked. “They didn’t tell you? It’s been in the papers.”

“The papers?” Timo felt his stomach drop, and he slumped a little. Oh, if this hurt the Finnish war effort, he’d never live it down. “Perkele. What did they say?”

“That you were with your combat unit in Saami territory. On skis. And you took thirty doses of Pervitin.”

“It was an accident!” The words came out louder than anticipated. Berwald would believe him, of course, but he still felt some urge to defend his honor to the universe. “I’d never even taken Pervitin before!” He’d always been wary of those German-made pep pills. Chemists said they contained methamphetamine. “I only took it because I was so tired I was on the verge of passing out. There were Soviets on our tail! And I meant to take one, not thirty. I’d like to see you-- or anyone -- get one pill out of those tiny little tubes while wearing mittens. So I tried to, y’know, just pour one into my mouth.”

“Shhh, it’s okay.” Berwald reached forward and began stroking Timo’s hair.

“And I just, before I knew it, I’d downed the whole tube.” Timo swallowed and took a minute to take a deep breath and enjoy Berwald’s touch. It reminded him of easier, happier times. “Sorry. But please, don’t stop.”

“Mmm. I won’t. But go on.”

“Go on?”

“What happened next?”

“Oh.” Timo paused. “Well, I… I don’t remember much of it. It felt amazing, at first. Ecstatic. Like I’d been born a new man, with more energy than I’d ever had in my life. And then, it got to be too much, I started shaking. I thought I’d blacked out, but it turned out that I’d just kept skiing. I, I think I crashed through a Soviet camp, and they shot at me, but the doctors didn’t find any bullet wounds. Maybe I hallucinated it. But then, I came to my senses, or really, I came down enough to realize that I’d completely lost my unit, and I was all alone in the snowy forest. But there was so much energy in me that I felt compelled to keep going. To find someone. Anyone.”

Berwald’s brow furrowed. “How long had it been at that point?”

Timo shrugged. “I don’t know. A few days.”

“Did you stop to eat or sleep?”

“Sleep. I doubt it. Eat, no. I lost my supply pack.”

“No wonder you’re so thin.” Berwald ran a thumb along Timo’s cheekbones, which had never been visible before. “I don’t like it.”

“Not planning on staying this way, don’t you worry.” Timo managed a smile. He didn’t want to add that his once-portly body weighed only forty-one kilograms upon admission to hospital. That number would only make Berwald worry -- he was too fond of seeing Timo pampered and plump. “Anyway, not too long after that, I stepped on a landmine.”

“A landmine?”

“Yeah.” Timo gestured to his elevated right leg. The cast covered a mess of stitches and surgical pins. “The blast threw me right off my feet, blew out one of my eardrums, and my legs was, well, I remember this awful mess of blood and bone.”

“Christ almighty.”

“Yeah...I guess. I was still so high that I didn’t feel any pain, at least not at first. But I remember lying there in a ditch with my ears ringing. And I thought that this must be the end of my journey. Some hours passed, and nothing happened. So I figured I might live long enough for someone to find me, so I crawled to this sort of, well, dugout, and waited some more. And nobody came. Eventually, the Pervitin wore off enough that I could feel hunger. I could drag myself to a pine tree and I ate some pine buds. A jay landed on my hand, so I ate that too. I ate snow. Sorry,” he added, seeing the horrified look on Berwald’s face.

“Don’t be sorry. I want to know.” There was a pause “And I want to take you home right now and take care of you forever,” Berwald was flushing, as if he’d already said more than he’d intended, “but that, that’s beside the point.”

That was more than enough to warm Timo’s heart. “Maybe you can, if your disguise holds. I don’t think they’re going to let me back to the front.” Inherently, he was ashamed of that. Going back before the end of the war felt like quitting on his people. “There’s talk about sending me to Helsinki. I’m going to need crutches for a while. And physical therapy. But if you can keep up as Director of Cadaver Gynecology, maybe you can stay with me. At least for a little while.”

“Yes, maybe.” Berwald swallowed. “I’ll see what I can do.”

The prospect of Berwald in Helsinki might not take away the shame, Timo realized, but it did make the thought of a long convalescence a lot more bearable. “Thanks, big guy.” Almost suddenly, a wave of exhaustion swept over him. This talking was the most exertion he’d done since he’d been admitted.

“It’s nothing,” Berwald said. Another small pause. “You didn’t finish.”

“Finish what?”

“The story. You stopped with eating snow in a ditch.”

“Oh, right.” Timo fought back a yawn. “I walked.”

“You what?”

“Walked. One night, I could see light through the trees, and I don’t know, I guess I was desperate enough that I got up and dragged myself over to them.”

“With your leg like…” Berwald pointed.

“Well, of course. But I made it to their camp, and I was so beat up, that I think I scared them, the poor humans. They called for an ambulance, and they brought me here.” And that,” this time, Timo couldn’t hold back the yawn, “is how I got myself into this whole embarrassing mess.”

“Embarrassing? Never mind, I should let you sleep.”

“Wait, don’t go!” Timo took Berwald’s wrist. “Not just yet. A few more minutes. And yes, of course it’s embarrassing. All this trouble because I couldn’t pick up a pill.”

Berwald set his jaw and kept silent for a moment. “I can’t say how you should feel, but the story’s earned your people’s admiration”

“Wait, what?” This was so surprising, Timo almost forgot how sick and tired he was. “What do you mean, admiration?”

“You’re still here, aren’t you? Yes, you made a mistake, but you’re still here. Thirty doses of Pervitin and two weeks in the woods would’ve killed lesser men. Men who aren’t as tough as Finns. I mean,” Berwald reached down for his messenger bag. “Plenty of your people have sent you cards and letters. Wishing you well, I’m guessing. Haven’t opened any.”

“Those are letters? What? Where did you get those?” Timo watched as Berwald opened the bag, revealing a heap of envelopes.

“Your public PO box. In Helsinki.”

“Right, forgot I gave you a spare key.” The envelopes were mostly white, with occasional blue and pink mixed in. And there were so many of them. Maybe some of them were admonishing him for his stupidity and carelessness, but if even a few were wishing him an easy recovery, well, it was a small consolation, but he felt better. “Do you think you can open one? Read one to me? Do you remember your Finnish?”

“Of course I remember Finnish.” Berwald cupped Timo’s cheek, then picked an envelope from the top of the pile and tore it open. Inside was a generic get-well card with a picture of teddy bear, but somehow, the mass-produced kitsch made it charming. “How ‘bout you get some rest? I’ll read while you settle down to sleep.”

Oh, wasn’t that right in the money. Timo sank back against the pillows and closed heavy eyelids. Lumpy hospital bed heaven was even better with Berwald by his side.

“Dear Mr. Finland,” Berwald began, “I was shocked to hear news of your accident, but I must say that I have never heard a more remarkable story of survival. That’s truly the Finnish spirit, isn’t it? Carrying on and making do in spite of the odds. You’ve reminded me of...”

Berwald’s voice was lovely and soothing, but that was all he heard before sleep claimed him, heavy, comfortable, and reassuring.

Closing notes: For anyone who’s unfamiliar, Pervitin was an methamphetamine-based performance-enhancing drug that was developed by the Germans, who proceeded to give it out to their troops like it was candy. Timo’s story here is based on that of Aimo Koivunen, a Finnish soldier who accidentally took 30 doses of Pervitin, spent two weeks in the woods, stepped on a landmine and lived to tell the tale. He made a full recovery and lived to the age of 72. You can read Koivunen’s story in his own words here.

[sweeethinny]

The Duke - Chapter 7

I know it took me a while to update, really, sorry, but it was because it was difficult to organize this chapter as I wanted. thank you so much for the comments, as always, is what motivates me to write I promise to take less this time

I hope you like it <3

AO3 | FF.NET | SIYE

read bellow the cut :)

| G.W |

‘‘I don’t think I’ve ever been this anxious.’’ Ginny comments, watching Henry move his wand and stack her suitcase with the others who are concentrated by the fireplace. ‘’I’ve never gone this far. You know, when I was little, I climbed the trees and dreamed of the day that I could go as far as I wanted.’’ She smiles from ear to ear, anxiously walking around the room, her dark green dress still a little wrinkled. She didn't even want help getting ready, she tied her hair with magic and tied the bodice as she could.

‘’I’m glad you managed to convince them, Miss.’’ Henry smiles at her, wearing the black uniform and maintaining the most serious tone he can, even though he also looks excited. ‘’I’ve never gone this far, either.’’

‘’We still have hours, hours, until we go.’’ Ginny watched the auror, a smile on her lips taking over her freckled face. ‘’We could fly! If my father agreed to take me to the Dueling Ball, then I can fly!’’ She comments as if she were a ten year old child asking for the cookie that is in the jar on top of the cupboard.

‘‘Sorry, Miss, but the shed is still locked.’’ Henry smiled awkwardly, shrugging. ‘’But we can go to the greenhouse, we haven’t been there in a while.’’

‘‘I don’t want to go to the greenhouse.’’ Ginny sat down on the mustard-yellow armchair that her mother insisted on keeping in the living room, even though it didn't match the rest of the decor. ‘’Can we do something else? Can we go to the city?’’ She didn’t even like going to the city, but if it meant leaving home, she would be accepting. Ginny just wanted time to pass as quickly as possible. ‘’Can we do anything? I just don’t want to sit.’’

‘’Your mom asked you to train the dance.‘’

‘’Nooo,’’ She stood up, approaching Henry and looking him deep in the emerald green eyes, she could almost see the reflection of herself in his round glasses. ''Let's do something fun ... You can take me somewhere fun, can't you?'' Henry sighed, looking quickly at the bags on the floor, then at the clock where he pointed out that everyone - apart from Ginny - was out of the house, and finally for her.

‘’We have to go back before everyone else,’’ Her eyes widened as she jumped in place and smiled like she hasn't smiled in days, locked up inside the house. ''And you must promise me that you will obey me.'' Ginny laughed, throwing her arms around Henry as if it were the most natural thing, hugging him tightly and feeling his chest tighten with intimate contact. He had never even touched her shoulders.

‘‘I promise.’’ Ginny stood on tiptoe, fearless enough to kiss him on the cheek flushed with shame. ‘’I’m going to get my hat!’’ And then she leapt out of the room, running up the stairs like a child who had won the cookie, almost screaming with joy.

It has been a difficult few days, locked up at home and barely able to go to the garden itself, without being escorted by Henry or one of her brothers. Her name had returned to the tabloids, but now, they said it was all a lie on the part of her family, to create fame. They went so far as to accuse her of being psychotic mad, and that respectable ladies should stay away from her. Some women even removed her mother's name from their guest lists for afternoon tea.

Ginny still didn't know how the family was still invited to the Dueling Party, but something told her that Mrs. Potter understood what it was like to have her name in the tabloids with several lies made up about her.

She also didn't know why she was so excited. Something inside her made her think that the party could be good after all, living a week in a completely different house and with new places to explore. If no one danced with her, at least she would have new gardens and new libraries to visit.

Putting on her hat and gloves, not even bothering to look in the mirror to check her clothes or put on more perfume, just running down the stairs again, almost tripping over her dress, but being held tightly by Henry, who was waiting patiently for her.

‘’Calm, Miss.’’ He smiled, and something inside Ginny burned and trembled, like that night when she dreamed that he kissed her. ‘’If you get hurt, you won’t be able to travel or go out to the city. ’’

‘‘I’m sorry, I’m looking forward to it.’’ She running her hand over her dress and waiting for him to give the orders to know where they would go. ‘’Should I get my cape?’’

‘’Of course, we don’t want anyone to recognize you, and there are always eyes everywhere.’’ Ginny didn’t think his over-care was stupid, not after the attack and having spent days locked up Ginny would even put on a wig if that meant leaving the house and seeing daylight, smelling new smells and seeing people besides her family.

[...]

‘’This is incredible.’’ She smiled, almost standing up so she could see even more of that man sitting on the stage below, concentrating on playing the piano, while ten women wearing white and black clothes, danced perfectly and synchronously around. They stood on tiptoe, rolled, jumped, and never seemed to lose their balance, always in the rhythm of the music.

That was their first stop, at least that's what Henry said. They Apparated into the middle of Muggle London, which Ginny had seen less than twice in her life, and then rode in a carriage to that huge building from which very loud classical music came, and some people entered. There were several columns, a huge staircase - the biggest one Ginny had ever seen - and several pictures that didn't move, scattered all over the place.

No one looked at her, except for the man in the suit at the door, no one even seemed to pay attention to her, which was a divine sensation, to say the least.

Henry managed to get them up to the top floor, entering a mezzanine that had the walls covered in a wine red velvet that reminded her a lot of the color of the dress that Fleur wore at one of the balls she went to, and that the wizarding world spent weeks talking about every little detail of the piece and how the woman was one of the most beautiful in the night. There were chairs, too, and a parapet that kept them from falling over to where the dancers and the man playing the piano were.

‘’What’s the name of that?’’ She whispered, unable to take her eyes off how the skirts of those women were static and round, and how they tiptoed with frightening ease.

''Ballet. It's just a rehearsal, the presentation is always done at night... They are rehearsing Romeo and Juliet.'' Ginny almost couldn't resist the temptation to look away from the women when she felt his hand next to hers on the arms of the chair, but maybe not even Henry noticed how their fingers were almost touching, and how close they were now too, given the fact that they needed to whisper to each other.

His scent flooded Ginny inside, something that reminded her of fresh herbs and male soap. Her chest heated up, her hands tingling as if something was out of control inside her, which Ginny believed was her lack of human interaction in recent years, and it suddenly became difficult to breathe with Henry so close, so hot it seemed to burn her shoulder where they touched, and so overwhelming that it seemed that every key on the piano that was played on stage resonated inside her head as if all her demons decided to dance to the beat of a racing heart.

‘’It’s a beautiful piece, too bad it’s a tragic story.’’ He kept talking, the women down there dancing at an even faster pace, which made Ginny more euphoric. ‘’I don’t know if there’s a version in the wizarding world for this, but if you want,’’ And this time, Henry actually put his big palm over her hand, squeezing it lightly and smiling gently at Ginny. ‘’I can lend you. I have the book stored in my stuff. I brought it as a reminder of my mother.’’

The woman did not understand how they went from almost never touching, to that stage. She didn't understand what it was that shone in his green eyes, let alone her fast beats, disagreeing with the now calm music.

She had already read several books to know that if it were described in a love story, it would be the prelude that the romance between the couple was emerging; racing heart, inappropriate thoughts that invaded her mind - did Henry kiss as well as he kissed her in the dreams that tormented her the last few nights? - and a feeling of numbness that made her almost unable to think. If that were a love story, Ginny was smiling like an idiot for the book and would feel as flustered as the protagonist.

But Ginny Weasley had no chance of having her own love story. Not when her entire reputation was destroyed by people who tried to kill her, and men who never accepted that her, a madwoman without a hopeful future, says no. There were no love stories for a woman like her, who, unlike Fleur, Hermione, and all the other women who had a line of men waiting for her, was abandoned at the back of the room like a long-forgotten widow.

She allowed herself to feel just one more second of that feeling that burned in her stomach, before blinking and turning her eyes to the dancers, pulling her hand back to her own lap and trying not to pay attention to the pain that seemed to plague her chest now more still.

‘’Thank you, it would be amazing, I’m sure we don’t have it in our library.’’ She sighed, steadying her hands so that the magic that seemed to burn her fingertips would cease.

The rehearsal continued and she and Henry remained silent for the rest of the time, just admiring the dancers and the pianist, from time to time she would glance at him just to catch him looking at her fingers, covered by the white gloves, resting in her lap. It was kind of silly that they still tingled, but Ginny made a point of ignoring it, for her own good.

When everything went quiet a few minutes later and people on stage started to talk, they got up to leave, still in silence and avoiding contact as if the two had some contagious disease.

Before they could walk out into that hall full of photos and trophies, a tall, dark-haired man appeared in front of them, wearing all-black robes like the ones she saw some men wearing at dances, with a snake badge that Ginny did not recognize for being from no family. But Henry seemed to recognize it, mainly because he put his arm around her waist and pulled her close to him in a few seconds.

''Put your head down and don't say anything.'' Henry's voice sounded in her mind, and Ginny followed the orders without thinking twice, feeling the tingling again at her fingertips, but now, it wasn't something that seemed happiness. In fact, it was the same feeling she had felt before being attacked in the park.

Something burned inside her and an acidic taste took over her mouth, while her survival instinct made her magic swirl inside her chest and seem close to exploding. But never really getting to do it.

‘’Good afternoon, Sir.’’ Henry speaks, but his voice is louder and thicker than usual. Ginny just pretends to fix the wrinkles in her dress, avoiding as much as possible to look at the coat with the snake again, trying to remember where she had already seen one like that.

‘’Good afternoon,’’ the male voice responds, taking a step to the side and letting them pass, even though she feels that for the first time in the hour they’ve been out of the house, they were being watched. ''Beautiful wife.'' Only then does she notice the delicate ring on her left finger, and Ginny knows it's just an illusion, but can't help but be surprised for a few seconds, before returning to normal and continuing to keep her eyes down. 

''Thank you,'' but Henry doesn't move, and before she can understand what's going on, a cold shiver runs up and down her body, even causing her eyes to close to the weird sensation, before finally being pulled away by Henry.

‘’What was that?’’ Ginny whispers, feeling the air return to her lungs as soon as they step on the street in front of the theater, the afternoon light flooding them, as well as the sounds of a London that never seems to stop.

‘’I don’t know, but that man was a wizard.’’ Henry hasn’t released her yet, walking with her as fast as he can down the street, towards something Ginny has no idea what it is. ‘’And not a good one.’’

''What do you mean?'' They walk into an old library, a lady smiles at them as if she's never seen anything like it, and Henry directs them to one of the most hidden sections, then lets go of Ginny, and the shiver runs through her again, but this time, it's like she fell into a volcano. Was it that hot?

‘’He was a Death Eater.’’ Henry speaks in alarm, his hands running through his messy hair naturally, pulling on the strands as he leans on the shelf behind him, closing his eyes and sighing.

‘’Sorry.’’ Ginny asks, embarrassed and still a little moved by the latest events. A death eater! She had only known two in her life, and her father always said that she shouldn't want to be in the presence of another a third time. ‘’I put us at risk again.’’

‘’Don’t say that,’’ The man seems to allow himself to roll his eyes, taking his glasses off his face so he can wipe the lenses, as if he wants to buy time to process the ideas. ‘’You liked the rehearsal, and it’s a pity that you can’t see the whole performance, but at least we left the house.’’ He shrugged, then suggested. ‘’We have less than an hour yet, if you want to… do something.’’

''Aren't you going to demand that we go back to my house?'' Ginny's eyes flashed, the thought of being able to spend more time outside, lit her up like a hundred thousand lit wands towards her.

‘’Well, we’re already here, right? We can venture a little further. That wizard didn't recognize you, or me.’’

‘’How are you sure about this?’’ Henry shrugged.

‘’Something tells me that no. The ring was pretty convincing as well.’’ His cheeks burned, but his green eyes held steady on those of Ginny, who also felt her cheeks warm up. ‘‘Forgive me for that, Miss, but it was necessary.’’

‘’Oh, don’t worry,’’ Ginny meant he could have kissed her to convince the man, and even then, she wouldn’t care. ''You were fast.''

‘’A quality that I acquired working for you, Miss. You never know when I'm going to have to do a non-verbal spell and protect us,'' Henry whispered, moving a little closer to her and making her feel that whirlwind of emotion again, before turning away and resting his back on the bookshelf. ‘’But we’ll have to be careful if we stay here. We can go to more reserved places, that no wizard would visit. ’’

‘’How you know so much about the Muggle world, if I may ask?’’

‘’I worked for a few years with the Muggles, Miss.’’ He smiled simply, lifting his shoulders. ''Shall we go?'' Henry took her arm, as he sometimes did - in rare exceptions - and Ginny nodded, ignoring her belly being mistreated by the thousand bats that flapped their wings inside, and followed him for a walk through London Muggle, as if it were very natural for everyday life, to walk arm in arm with a handsome man as they strolled.

She knew that she needed to enjoy that moment with all her heart, as she probably wouldn't have many more, and for the next few hours, Ginny would pretend that she was not a ruined woman and without a very hopeful future.

| ? |

‘‘She isn’t a normal witch.’’ The man sitting at the end of the table looked up at the woman on his right, looking a little desperate at the blood dripping from the body hanging on the table. ‘’I’ve seen her up close, her magic… it’s scary.’’

‘’Scary? Is a 23 year old girl scary?’’ He rolled his eyes, looking again at the photo of the redhead in front of him, dressed in a long blue dress and looking bored, sitting on one of the chairs at the party. ''Who is he?''

‘’Her bodyguard. One of Robards best aurors, I heard.’’ Another man, this time on the left, replied, not even seeming to care when the blood of that filthy woman dripped near his hand.

''A scary witch and one of the best aurors... What a great pair '' His humorless laugh echoed through the dining room, his finger running over the photo of the redhead and then that of the man who was dressed in the black uniform, proudly displaying the coat of arms of the Ministry and Aurors. ‘’Kill them. Don't waste any more time and hit him first.'’ He smiled, looking at the woman’s lifeless body, hanging from ropes that went from the ceiling to a few meters above the table, her dying hand falling near the frightened woman’s plate. ‘’They’re going to the Dukes ’party,’ Looking down, he watched all his followers there, ready to do anything he assigned them. ‘’Kill them too.’’

| H.F |

‘’Why are we going to go in a carriage?’’ Ginny asked as they waited in the living room, she perched on the window like a child, watching the three magic carriages posing in the gardens, the thestrals waiting patiently to fly back into the sky.

‘’It’s safer, and it would be too tumultuous to use the Flu or Apparate, we would end up overloading the flow and maybe some people would end up stopping at different places. Furthermore, the exact location of the Dukes' country house is unknown for security reasons.’’ Henry replied, standing near the door so he could escort the family when he was called, ready for the most important job of his life.

Robards had warned him to escort the whole family as safely as possible, even sending two other Aurors to travel together in the other two carriages, to avoid any surprises, since the protection around the house had been removed so that the Thestral could enter and leave with ease.

He would obviously stay with Ginny, escorting her at all hours, especially now, still a little affected by the presence of the Death Eater they encountered.

If he were alone, Henry would probably have followed the man and tried to find out some new information about the possible attack that Voldemort was planning, but with Ginny at his side, all he had to do was move on, but always with his eyes open to any stranger to follow or look at them.

The bewitched ring had already disappeared from her finger, but Henry thanked himself for having remembered the spell in time, happy that he managed to protect her. Of course, they shouldn't have even gone to the theater in the first place, but Henry thought the sparkle in her eyes and the smile on her face for all the hours they spent together had been worth it.

Ginny deserved a few hours of a 'normal' life, without a thousand eyes judging her and commenting on her every step.

‘’Do you know where it is? You told me the road is long.’’ She looked over her shoulder, her hair tightly tied in a complicated hairstyle that unfortunately left the red hair hidden in a bun. Ginny had also changed the dress, wore a much more elegant one and that Henry knew had cost a very high price, as well as some others that she would wear during the week ahead. The purple color looked great on her - like all the others, Henry suspected - and the white and silver details made her shine.

"I was allowed to know only as a security measure, in case we need to escape in a hurry, but I had to swear with my own life that I wouldn't tell anyone." He clasped his hands behind his body almost automatically, vaguely remembering the light pain he had felt. Ginny's brown eyes bulged, and she jumped off the couch, hurriedly walking over to him, holding out her gloved hand as if asking to see the mark.

‘’You… why?’’ Henry reached out, feeling warm and electrified when her delicate fingers touched his palm, his chest feeling like it wanted to explode with the gesture.

It was almost distressing that he felt so… sick when she touched him. It always seemed like something inside him was stirring, and Henry was ready to die.

‘’For your safety, of course.’’ He would do anything to guarantee that she would be okay, he thought.

‘’This is eternal.’’ Ginny looked at him, brown irises shining toward him like the caramel candies that the elves make every Thursday afternoon, and Henry always eats.

‘‘I will hardly have another opportunity to go to the Dukes’ house, Miss, so it won’t bother me, I promise.’’ Henry smiled, politely pulling his hand away from hers, his palm feeling like it was on fire. ‘’Now, let’s see… I’ll have to go talk to your father, but another Auror will be taking care of your safety until we need to go, okay?’’

‘’Why can I never go with you? You will talk about me.’’ With her chin up and her eyes defiantly staring at him, Ginny raised her eyebrows, looking a lot like when he met her.

‘‘I don’t think your dad approves, Miss.’’ He wanted to laugh, but he kept his face straight and his hands were behind him, as the label said. ‘’We’re just going to go over the protocol, it’s pretty boring and you won’t miss anything very fun, I promise.’’ As if in sync, he hears a knock on the door, and Thomas, the other Auror, bowed to Ginny. ‘‘Please forgive me for having to leave you,’’ Henry did the same, despite not remembering the last time he bowed to her - not being in public. ‘’But you will be in good hands.’’

‘’I don’t believe that much,’’ she whispered, making a face. ''But that's what I have.'' With that, Henry withdrew from the room, waving to Thomas, who kept an unfriendly scowl, and making his way to the office on the third floor of the house, where Arthur was waiting for him.

Henry wanted to think that when he got there, he wouldn't have to listen to the same conversation that Robards had passed on to him and the other Aurors, but it was almost possible that Arthur would repeat the speech about taking care of Ginny and, as much as the Duke and Duchess were good people, keep an eye out for any strangers. Deep down, Henry knew that it was only Arthur  father's concern that made the man say something Henry had already heard from the boss, but he couldn't even imagine what it must be like to know that his daughter is being threatened with death.

''Excuse me,'' He opened the door, entering after confirmation from Arthur, who was sitting in the usual chair, shuffling some papers, which Henry suspected was the letter the Duke had sent him a few days ago, reassuring the man about security. ‘’Did you call me, Sir?’’

''Of course, of course, sit down, my man.'' Unlike Mrs Weasley, Arthur was much more affectionate with Henry, respecting the limits of the hierarchy, of course, but still not taking some rules very seriously. His wife treated him very well, but Henry felt that the woman harbored a little dislike for him, but it may not be something directed at who he was, but the work he did in Ginny's life. Again, Henry would never be able to imagine the pain of needing his youngest daughter to be escorted, for fear that someone will kill her. ‘’I call you here to talk about something…’’

‘‘Say sir.’’ The man sighed, running a hand over his red hair that seemed to fall more each day.

‘’I found a good husband for my daughter.’’ Henry swallowed, happy that he managed to keep his face serious, but feeling out of breath in his lungs. ‘’He’ll be at the party, and I need you to watch him for me. If he’s respectable, he will marry her as soon as we get back.’’

Henry's tongue seemed to burn with unspoken words, like; will you marry your daughter to someone she doesn't even know? Your daughter is not an animal to be sold. Does she even know that? Will I have to leave her? But the man took a deep breath, clasped his hands on his knees, and continued to stare at the boss in front of him.

‘’I’ve already had him track down and everything is clean, but I need you to see the way he’s going to behave next to Ginny. My daughter does not deserve a man of arguable morals at her side.’’ Henry nodded, still a little dizzy. ‘’Furthermore, Mr Potter also knows him and has guaranteed that his family will more than approve the bond, as they need allies if they want to fight against You-Know-Who.’’

''I'm sure yes.’’

"And Ginny is an excellent witch, you know that yourself, the last two years she has perfected her art of dueling and the control of magic perfectly, so it will make a lot of difference for the family." Ginny hadn't improved her magic and control, to marry a weakling who needs a woman to defend himself. She needed someone to keep her safe enough, so she no longer had to worry about staying alive. The woman was barely 24 years old, and seemed to duel and defend herself as an Auror with over 30 years of service.

She definitely shouldn't marry someone who couldn't provide her with the least amount of security, so that her biggest concern would be that tomorrow the weather would be good enough to fly.

‘‘Sir, excuse the question, but does she know him?’’

‘’Oh, no, no, she’ll meet him at the ball.’’ Arthur assured him, pouring some Firewhiskey into two glasses that were already there on the table, but Henry denied it when the glass slid towards him.

‘’Thank you, sir, but I think I need to be sober for the trip.’’

‘’You’re a good man, Mr. Figg, an Auror of respect.’’ Arthur smiled at him, bringing the drink to his lips and then closing his eyes, as if he had headaches. ‘’This situation,’’ The cheeks almost automatically turn red with the liquid ingested. ‘’It has driven me almost crazy... Mr Potter organizing this party again called attention to the things that happened between our families.’’

‘’The kidnapping of the Potter boy?’’ Arthur nodded.

‘’But not only that, Mr Figg, actually, I wish it were just that… But the king has been pushing me too.’’

‘’The king?’’ If Henry had never even met the Dukes, the King was the last person he dreamed of seeing.

‘’Yes, Dumbledore has.. has been reminding me and James of something that connected our families for a long time.’’ Arthur drank some more, seeming to gain liquid courage to continue. ‘’A prophecy that made all this happen… ’’ Henry waited for him to continue, barely knowing what to say in the face of it. "It said that.. That two kids would be born 10 days, 10 hours and 10 minutes apart, and that they would be the only ones, with the wedding bond, to kill You-Know-Who." The man sighed, and Henry noticed that he was looking at the picture of Ginny on the wall, dressed in a light pink dress, and with a mouth dirty with blackberries. ‘’Are you aware of what it is like to look at your little girl, so small, and think that she is destined to kill one of the greatest wizards that ever existed? That if she doesn't do that... ’’

‘’If she doesn’t?’’ Henry insisted, thinking he was never under so much stress as he was at that time.

‘’She will die.’’ Then Arthur was silent, watching little Ginny laugh and hide her dirty hands behind her back, looking away, as if he wanted to get into the photo. ‘’Die like Harry Potter died.’’

‘‘I’m sorry, sir, but I thought the Dukes had said it was just a lie.’’

‘’No, James just doesn’t want to accept the idea, but Dumbledore believes that the boy will not have survived until now. The prophet who predicted this, was clear in saying that the farther the soul mates got, the weaker they would be, and the more likely they would end up being taken by You-Know-Who. After Harry disappeared, she was consulted by the king, who thought it pertinent to warn us now that she made it clear that if the boy had indeed survived, he would have died at the age of 20 or 21, and would not have passed that age. ’’

''Why that?''

‘’Because he would have spent a long time away from the protections that the soul mate and prophecy govern him. It was at that same age that Ginny was attacked. On her 21st birthday.’’ The man denied, closing his eyes again. ‘’Dumbledore insisted that I marry her once and for all, so that she is safe about marriage protections. It’s not much, but it’s much more than we can offer.’’

‘‘Do you believe in this prophecy?’’ Arthur laughed humorlessly, opening his blue eyes towards Henry.

‘’Harry Potter was never found, was he?’’

[...]

''Miss, I beg you to wait for me, then go inside the carriage,'' Henry asked, feeling an irritating headache, redoing the security spell around the carriage that Ginny would travel in, just as Thomas and Joe did with the other two.

The Weasleys were all talking behind the Aurors, eagerly waiting to board. Ginny was the happiest of all, barely stopping in place as she chatted excitedly with Ron about what she imagined they would do during the week they would be away from home, looking much happier than Henry remembered seeing her.

But at the same time that he was happy that she was happy, Henry remembered her conversation with Mr Weasley, and how desperate he looked. Ginny was getting married. Ginny could die.

Damn Harry Potter, who arrested her in that fate.

‘’All done, come on in, Miss.’’ Henry signaled to her, interrupting the conversation between the brothers, and smiling apologetically at them.

‘’Thank you, Mr Figg.’’ She jumped into the vehicle, followed by Ron, the twins, and lastly, Henry. As soon as he closed the door, and touched the magic coin that was the point of communication with Thomas and Joe, the carriage began to move and leave the floor. ''This is so exciting!'' Ginny opened the window curtains, and Henry even thought about asking her to close, as it was safer and prevented anyone from seeing her inside, but there were so many charms around them, that he thought it was okay to let her have fun for just a few minutes.

There were two benches, facing each other, the twins and Ron were in front of him and Ginny, and everyone seemed to marvel at the view of the property from above, much higher than they normally went with the brooms.

‘’How long to wait, Mr Figg?’’ Ron asked, still looking out the window, before he got tired and closed the curtain.

‘‘I think two or, at most, three hours. Thestrals are fast animals, they tend not to linger.’’

‘’Do you see them?’’ It was Fred who asked this time, and Henry nodded.

‘’He has seen death several times.’’ Ginny spoke before Henry was able, as if to say the obvious. ‘’Almost all Aurors have seen someone die, and if they haven’t, they’re not doing their job in the right field, because in the midst of wars, it’s impossible not to witness it.’’

‘’You shouldn’t know about that.’’ Ron pointed out.

‘’But I know, because I ask him. What else would we talk about? One hour this matter would come up, Mr Figg has been with me since I was 21.’’

‘’Miss Weasley doesn’t know any macabre details, only that I’ve seen death.’’ He lied, thinking that her brothers shouldn’t know that Henry once described how a man’s eyes were pulled out of his face. ‘’I would never give that kind of detail.’’

‘’Besides, Ron, I think I’m better able to hear about it than you are, because although I remember, when you first saw blood, you passed out.’’

Henry did not listen very much to the conversation between the siblings, looking at the small window beside him, and watching the clouds.

If Ginny married, he would be forced to walk away from her and never work with her again, even if her husband asked for a security guard, Henry would no longer be assigned to work. His contract, of course, said that when she signed her name on the wedding paper, he would automatically be disqualified as her personal security guard, and for some reason, it saddened him.

Henry had spent so much of his life alone, without many friends besides his mother and the boy who took piano lessons with her, without much vision for a profitable future. As soon as he was able to join the aurors, he imagined that he would prosper and be more social, but soon it proved much more difficult than expected. When you worked with arresting, killing and looking for murderers, there was not much time and energy left to make friends and date, and most guys didn't want to be friends with the same guy who helped him carry the body of a dead child in a confrontation.

It turned out that he just stayed at home, reading some book or the record of someone wanted, making theories and trying to think of a plan for the next day. Always trying to stay alive, even though it seemed to get more difficult with each passing day.

He had been so sorry for Robards when he told him about Ginny. The girl had lost control of her magic and now in addition to being threatened with death, she suffered public retaliation. Henry understood, at least in part, the pain she was suffering, as he felt the same thing when he saw someone dying in front of him for the first time - a colleague - and also lost control of the magic.

It had been traumatic, and Henry almost took his own life when memories of Cedric's icy white body fell in front of him. That had been the closest to a friend he’d had in years, and even though they had only known each other for a few months, the man tried to stop the Death Eater who raised his wand for Henry.

He understood what it was like not to be able to control even the wand in his hand, feeling his body tremble and his chest warm with magic, even looking like the spells would come out of his fingertips. He was desperate to say the least, and Henry sympathized with Ginny before he even met her.

A woman shouldn't feel as out of control as he had, a few weeks before he met her.

And now, he was going to see his best friend - and the woman who moved his poor heart - marry a guy who wouldn't even bring her so much security, and all Henry could do is nod, bow, and leave.

Henry sighed, closing the curtain and realizing that the argument between the brothers had stopped. ‘’Do you think the transfiguration festival will take place?’’ George asked - Henry knew how to differentiate them, no matter how difficult it was.

‘’Sure, it’s a tradition,’’ Ron said, running a hand through the red hair so characteristic of the family. ‘’I trained all week, I want to show that I’m good.’’

‘’Hmmm, is it because of Miss Granger?’’ Ginny winked at her brother in front of her, a smirk on her lips. ''Oh, Mr Weasley, you are so good at transfiguration spells, please marry me.'' She spoke of what should be an imitation of the Miss in question, the back of her hand on her forehead dramatically, and the other, stretched out towards Ron, who had red cheeks like curtains.

‘’She doesn't talk like that, you idiot.’’

''Hey. Women don't like men who treat their sister badly,’’ Fred warned him, punching Ron in the arm. ‘’And neither are the brothers!’’

‘’Women like polite men, who take her for a walk and treat her politely.’’ Ginny raised an eyebrow, arms crossed under her chest as if she could duel with her brother right there. Ron rolled his eyes.

‘’I treat her with respect... And what would you know about it? As far as I know, Mom didn't tell me about anyone taking you for walks.'' Ron looked sorry for saying that the next moment, but before he could apologize, or whatever, Ginny seemed to bristle like a wildcat.

''Because I'm a woman, you imbecile, and unlike the three of you, my head doesn't work just to think about when I'm going to sleep with someone.'' The three in front of her opened their eyes wide, and Henry almost laughed, but he thought they were too far from the ground to risk being thrown from the carriage. ''What's it? Now, after all, will you think I don't know about that? Oh, please, that's why the three of you are single, you very much doubt a woman's intelligence.’’

[...]

As soon as they landed on the floor, Henry felt the headache bothering him again, especially the scar on his forehead, the one that was always covered by his hair. After making sure it was safe, he got out of the carriage and undid the necessary protections for Ginny, Fred, George and Ron to get off too, and as much as he closed his fists around his wand, relaxed his shoulders, and took a deep breath, he still felt that tightness in his chest and burning on his forehead, which had bothered him since they started approaching the village where the house was.

It was much more than he ever thought he would have the honor of entering; it was a bigger mansion than any he had ever seen. There were more windows than he could count, large columns surrounded by rose vines, the stone-clad house was much better cared for than any he had ever known. The garden was very well maintained, with trees well over 100 years old, and flowers perfectly pruned. There were even statues, like the ones he had seen in a Marquis' house, but unlike that of the man, it was not just one, but several scattered around the garden in a way that looked beautiful and made sense. Some waved at them, and others just continued in their poses, were very well made and almost made him think that they looked like humans covered in plaster.

It was like going to an enchanted place, which brought an immense sense of peace and something even familiar, as if Henry had already been there before. What was silly, he knew.

As soon as they were ready, the Aurors followed the family to the front door, the path was long and well defined, separated from the rest of the garden, with bushes decorating the sides of the small road, and as far as he could see, the Dukes were waiting for them, wearing neutral and elegant clothes.

Henry hadn't been prepared to meet the Dukes in person, and he guessed it was nervousness that made him feel a strange urge to cry or run, as if something stopped him from breathing fully and made his knees look weak. He never imagined performing for such important people.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were the first to greet, bowing first and then giving hugs and smiles, then the children, who just bowed one by one as the rule dictated and spoke a few words, and finally, the Aurors.

The Duke and Duchess looked at Henry as if they recognized him - perhaps Arthur had shown them his identification as Auror, where there was a photo. The Duchess had red hair that was darker and shorter than the Weasleys', and green eyes that looked like big, shiny emeralds in her thin and pale face. The Duke was almost the opposite of her, tall, with skin that was darker and tanned than his wife's, black hair and cropped but still a little messy, and dark eyes.

The clothes looked of great quality, much more than he could buy in his life. The thick fabrics covered them without any wrinkles, and the Potter Family crest, carved in gold, was proudly displayed.

Something inside Henry burned even harder, and as if his memory tried to remember where he had seen them - probably, in a newspaper in the past few weeks, which had several pictures of the two - his head hurt a lot. He wouldn't show weakness in front of them, so he just closed his eyes and bowed completely, swallowing the desire that had arisen.

‘’Mr, Mrs Potter, it is a pleasure to meet you.’’ Henry said as soon as his turn came, much closer to the two, who didn’t seem very comfortable with the situation. Perhaps it was the fact that it was the first party they had been throwing in years, and after what Henry had heard from Arthur, he couldn't imagine that the Dukes were happy knowing that their son was probably really dead. ‘’My name is Henry Figg.’’

[acommonloon]

TL;DR

What a delicious memorable night!

Except, I returned to the scene of a crime and got a last call beer and I'm a little disturbed I can't remember what it was. Let me think.

Oh that's right. I remember now.

____________________________________________________________

I remember hours before, going in The Raven, circling the bar before walking back out, not a single beer worth the time to drink it.

I remember darting across two busy lanes of traffic to see what The Ainsley was all about. It was the second venue to inhabit my much loved and missed Blue Grass Brewing Company, where I bought countless beers in past years. I never went in The Sullivan, it first followed BBC but, The Ainsley laudes itself as an upscale sports bar.

I nearly didn't go in. The building outside blinded me with unadorned white walls and...they took all the fucking windows out! Still, I had just braved rush hour on Frankfort Ave in 90deg heat so I pushed on. I was back outside in less than 5 seconds.

The inside was...where old white people go to die and maybe a few patrons at the bar had succumbed. The place reeked like a basement couch leaking generations of old man farts and the barely moving white heads scattered along the bar looked like moths fluttering their last against a hot window sill. I ran back across Frankfort.

Briefly I considered bailing. I could be home in under an hour where I've got beer worth drinking for days, weeks even. I'm no quitter though. I was parked in front of Street Grub and Hops, a bizarrely named venue I'd been in a few times since The Mellow Mushroom failed to survive in Louisville's over crowded pizza market.

I remembered they had 30+ taps behind their large U-shaped bar and I could see the whole side of the building was open to the sidewalk. Inside a band was setting up to play so I was assured in this place I wouldn't need mothballs to dispel the odour of human demise.

If my sense of failing mortality seemed unaccountably morbid on a bright Friday afternoon, in my defense, a new place next to Street Grub caught my eye. NSD Bar it said on the sign. What's that? Never Say Die Bar <shakes head>

I was met at the bar by a lively young man with a lush black beard and handlebar mustache. Thirsty? he asked. You've no idea.

He gesture towards the wall of taps and said let me know if you see something that piques your interest.

I chuckled and said that's a tall order. I spend too much time beer hunting.

He laughed then and said to which spelling are you referring?

My brain stuttered then I got the clever play on words he'd heard in my "tall order" reply, accidental for sure.

Which did you mean I countered, then I spelled peak or pique? The second one he smiled as he walked off.

<sigh> it was 5:10 already and I didn't know it but I'd just experienced the high point of my visit to Street Grub. In spite of their large list, only one beer piqued my interest and Austin, of the peaky facial hair, apologized when he discovered it was no longer on. My second choice, in spite of being a Stone Brewing offering, had no more character than the Miller Lite branded glass they brought it in. Worst of all, the fried pickles sucked. I should have remembered that because I'd had them there before.

I got back in my car with no particular plan. Then remembered a friend had mentioned the bar I had visited on Saturday had a Speakeasy room in the basement. <shrug>The Speakeasy theme has never interested me but such places often do high quality drinks and my recent visit to Gerties upstairs bore that out. They made me a Penicillin or two actually and they were terrific. I could do with another or two.

As soon as I walked in, the bartender greeted me with, "You're back!" I grinned back at him and said, "I heard you've a room in the basement." We do and he pointed around the bar to a door and said tell the bartender downstairs his Penicillin isn't as good as mine.

Recently, the guy that runs a nearby wine bar told me I was memorable. He said, "You make an impression." I wasn't sure he was complimenting me but I do appreciate it when the bartender remembers what drinks I like. I headed downstairs into the dark. It was really dark and I was worried I might trip as I shuffled toward the dimly lit bar. The bartender shouted a hearty welcome and then he said knowingly, "I bet you want a Penicillin!" WTF

I replied, "What, the guy upstairs rang down? No he shook his head. I was at a loss until he took pity on me. He said, "I was upstairs the other day when you asked for a classic Penicillin. I make up all the drinks here so I noticed. Oh right, I said but actually, you look very familiar. Where have you worked before. When he said Red Herring it sounded right but I couldn't remember where that was. As soon as he told me it was next to the Silver Dollar the memories flooded back and we fondly reminisced about the drinks and food there.

Soon I had a classic Penicillin in front of me and we began to talk drinks. We included the only other guy at the bar in our conversation. He was rail thing, wore a scarf on his head, and had a robust but not too pornish mustache. I suspected he was staff there at Gerties. He was clearly interested but not so experienced. For the next two hours I enjoyed the back and forth and drinks.

Chad is a professional bartender who loves his job. He loves making drinks and he loves talking to people. While we chatted, more than twenty people, in pairs and sometimes larger groups came downstairs, got drinks and eventually left. At one point I was sure Matt Gaetz sat down at a two top. I did a double-take to be sure the woman with him wasn't Marjorie Taylor Greene in a wig. It was hard for me not to stare but I kept stealing glances. Eventually I concluded this guy was what Gaetz would look like if he wasn't befouled by evil. A very good looking guy!

When he left, I asked if I was the only one who thought that? No one had noticed but, by that time, Terrence, a large black man who'd come down with two white friends was standing next to me. He'd been ordering drinks when the bar conversation turned to German food and he joined our conversation eagerly. After delivering drinks to his friends, he returned to talk. When I suggested the guy who'd just left looked like the American traitor Matt Gaetz, he said no way! He went on to say Gaetz was a POS and if it had been him there might have been trouble. Lol, now that would have been memorable.

Terrence left wishing Chad and myself a good day, remembering both our names. It turned out the guy with the scarf on his head was a sous chef at nearby Bar Vetti. OMG, I'd meaning to go there but I worried D wouldn't like it. I asked him if they would make her a pepperoni pizza. He said they had one but it had calabrian and peppadew peppers on it. Yeah, can you take those off. Um yeah?

I said I'd just go check it out myself for dinner after I finished the Negroni riff Chad had excitedly made up on the spot using a special dry vermouth and something that wasn't Campari. He referred to it as a white Negroni. It was delicious!

Bar Vetti was only about a hundred feet down the sidewalk from Gerties. I enjoyed the early evening as I walked, it was comfortably warm with a gentle breeze and for the first time in a long time, Nulu felt normal. People were sitting outside the Taj and the Mayan Cafe, the evening was alive with conversation, color, and movement. When I looked in the windows of the new swanky Marriott Hotel it was the same inside and there might not be room for me at the bar.

I walked past the unattended hostess stand into a storm of blaring conversation. I stopped in front of an empty seat but there was a drink there so I turned around to the other side. I asked a man in a suit if the empty seat next to him was taken. It's yours he answered without looking away from his companion. I sat and picked up the wine list.

On my left were three young men, obviously of southwest Asian heritage. Within seconds I understood they were native English speakers and they were having a good time. The youngest one was next to me and he seemed barely old enough to shave. He was rather louder than the others and seemed to be mildly complaining about something. The bartender came over to them and appeared to pick up a conversation she must have started before I got there. It was really more of a lecture and she was telling them that she couldn't spend all of her time in front of them as she and another bartender had a full bar.

I felt myself tense a little, wondering if there was going to be an altercation. I didn't look at the young men but watched the bartender closely. While her words were stern, her body language seemed relaxed. I heard the man furthest away from me say, "That's fair." The bartender didn't acknowledge his words. She poured me a water and I asked for a glass of wine. Then I turned to the men.

"Are you guys from here or visiting?" I could see them tense up the young guy on guard most of all. I went on as if I hadn't noticed and said, I overheard you say this was your kind of place a minute ago. This is my first visit here and it's a bit fancy for me. They relaxed. I felt sure they were expecting to be challenged and I might look just like the kind of old white asshole who would do that.

We're from California the young guy said but we live here and work at Rabbit Hole. Do you know it?

Of course I said, it's something the city can really be proud of. I've been over there in the bar many times and the facility is gorgeous. Cameron seemed near to burst with happiness. He said, "We're just about to have a drink, will you join us? I said, sure what are we drinking. Rabbit Hole he said, "We got to represent!"

From that moment on, I had a dinner companion who was overjoyed to talk to someone who knows about the Kentucky whiskey business. When I said, the marketing for Rabbit Hole is genius, Cameron threw his hand up and pointed at the man farthest from me. Justin is our marketing!

Justin said well, to be honest I've only been there for 3 years and Cameron replied, "He's being too modest. We've only been open for 4 years. I asked Cameron, are you a distiller? I was when I first started he said. My uncle is the founder and I've got a business degree so now I work the financials. Wow, I replied.

He said, you have to come over and ask for us! We'll give you an insider tour. I waived that off a bit and said, I'll be sure to come back over but your beautiful column still is out where I can see it when I go to the bar on the roof. Sometimes I just stand at the end of the hall by the elevators and admire it. He said, "OMG we never get to talk to anyone like you!"

We had a drink of their Heigold and I didn't have to pretend it was good. I said, "I'd drank their sourced whiskey before but this was the first time I'd had something they'd distilled themselves other than their gin. It tasted more mature than I'd expected and I said I'd likely pick up a bottle now that I'd had it. I will.

Soon, Cameron's girlfriend came in and sat next to Justin. Cameron pretended to be annoyed and she seemed maybe a little suspicious of me. Soon she was sitting next to Cameron and was telling me all his faults. It was bar buddies in the best form. I asked for the whiskey list and suggested I buy us all a drink. I was disappointed by the selection TBH. The owner is a well-known whiskey aficionado and his BBQ joint just a block away has a much bigger selection of whiskey. I noticed an Old Forester Single Barrel Rye on the list and suggested it.

I specified it be served in rocks glasses instead of glencairns and we clinked our glasses when everyone had their drink. It was candy in a glass and far too sweet to be anything I'd recognize as rye whiskey but my bar buddies claimed to like it so no harm done.

When their food came, I settled my check and Cameron again expressed his pleasure at our talk. He renewed his invite to come to the distillery and I walked back out into the night.

When I got back to my car I looked up and saw Akasha Brewing was still open with people sitting at tables outside. The street at this end was quiet and peaceful. I remembered my last visit to Akasha hadn't gone well at all. The server there had refused to give me a taste of a beer. I was shocked. I'd already bought and paid for one beer when I asked for a taste. I said I was trying to decide which of two others I'd take home in a growler.

She said it was their policy not to give out tastes because people sometimes asked for lots of tastes and didn't buy a beer. WTF I had already bought a beer! I was so annoyed I'd decided not to drink at Akasha until they changed their stupid policy. If they were going to treat me like their worst customer, I wasn't going to spend my money there. Still, one more beer would be nice. Then I saw what I wanted.

That's it. A strong Belgian golden ale is what I had there!

[rawiswhore]

Triple H, Shawn Michaels x Fem Reader- "Working With Meat"

At the beginning of 1998, the World Wrestling Federation was undergoing a makeover, where they now had a rougher, edgier looking logo and a new name, as well as altercate a new beginning to the WWF.

What was once a family friendly, cartoonish and colorful company that seemed like a live action Saturday morning cartoon aimed at kids was now becoming much darker, edgier, much more violent, sexual, boundary pushing and even shocking.

And who helped initiate this new era of the World Wrestling Federation?

Not just Stone Cold Steve Austin, Kane, Mankind and even Brian Pillman, but a wrestling group known as D Generation X, comprised of Shawn Michaels, Chyna, you and who is now known as Triple H.

The former Ravishing Rick Rude was even a member and manager of D Generation X, but he was a completely pointless and unnessesary member who did nothing for this company.

Despite that the WWF's rival company, WCW, has a hugely popular wrestling faction called the NWO increasing WCW's ratings, the WWF now have their own answer to the NWO known as D Generation X.

And while many could argue DX are a rip-off of NWO, the WWF LOVES them already and is eating them up.

D Generation X pretty much personified what was known as the WWF's Attitude era and are even part of the reason it was called that.

They were rebellious, disrespectful, boundary pushing and savage, doing anything that could piss people off, especially the censors.

But...wasn't the Attitude era pretty much like that in general? Hence the name "WWF ATTITUDE"?

In January of 1998, after the entire arena had gone black while the Undertaker's entrance music played, the audience hoping to see the Undertaker, only for the lights to turn on to reveal it's actually Shawn Michaels dressed as the Undertaker whilst he stripped out of that costume...

As D Generation X's Rage Against the Machine-knockoff entrance theme played, Triple H walked to the ring wearing an apron with a rather brash, vulgar quote while holding a huge paper bag in one hand while his other hand was gripping onto a crutch snug under his arm.

You joined in with him, wearing nothing but a short little apron while you rolled and escorted a grill (no, not those diamond covered tooth covers that rappers wear) to the ring.

This got the audience's attention, especially the males, whose eyes were on you wearing nothing but a small little apron, their eyes growing wide.

Women and girls were cheering for Shawn Michaels stripping his outfit off, whereas males were cheering for you dressed in nothing but a short little apron, although you had a thong underneath your apron and some stiletto heels.

Besides males cheering for you, some of them were even making those corny "wolf whistles" at you like how they make at an attractive woman.

Jerry Lawler's eyes, of course, were on you while you walked to the ring wearing nothing but a small apron, he was smiling from ear to ear while his eyes were bugged out.

"Is she wearin' nothin' but an apron?!" Jerry shrieked at the commentary table.

Yes, yes you are.

Your outfit of choice was inspired by Renee Zellwegger's character in the movie "Empire Records", during the scene where she's wearing nothing but a small little apron.

"She's got a barbeque grill!" Jerry shrieked.

"They're gonna have a cookout!" Jim Ross chimmed in on commentary.

When you and Triple H had gotten close to the ring, Shawn was now by the ropes around the ring, where you and Trips both had lifted the barbeque grill up from the floor and handed it to Shawn.

Shawn grabbed that grill and lifted it over the ropes, holding onto that grill and carrying it while he walked to the center of the ring, placing the grill in the middle.

Triple H and you, meanwhile, entered the ring by sliding under the ropes, lifting yourselves up from the ring, whereas Triple H grabbed the paper bag he was previously carrying.

When you and Trips were standing in the ring, you and he walked to the center of the ring where Shawn was, where Triple H pulled out a white chef's hat from the bag he was holding and handed it to Shawn.

Shawn placed that hat on top of his head, trying to fit it around his head, whereas Triple H pulled another chef's hat out and placed it on his head this time.

Trips' chef's hat fell off of his head when he was pointing his index finger to the message on his apron in front of the camera filming him, but your hand grabbed onto the chef's hat that fell off of his head and placed it back on top of his head again, where it thankfully didn't fall off.

What was the message on Triple H's apron?

S*ck the cook, as in, suck the cook, although the letter "u" had to be censored.

Now you know why that apron he wore had an obscene, vulgar quote on it.

Shawn, on the other hand, lifted that Undertaker costume and long haired black wig he was previously wearing on top of the barbeque grill, indicating that you're gonna roast the Undertaker.

Triple H and you were looking down inside that huge paper bag, sticking your hands in that bag and pulling out a bag of marshmallows as well as a little packet of hot dogs, placing those things on top of the grill.

Shawn was holding onto a barbeque fork that was already attached to the grill you brought to the ring.

D Generation X's entrance music faded away and cut off, while Triple H carried a microphone in one of his hands instead of a huge paper bag that he sat down in the ring, Shawn was holding onto and wiggling a hot dog he pulled out of the packet.

"Y'know, Shawn and I both got jumbo weenies!" Triple H stated, pulling another hot dog out of that plastic packet and holding it up. "But y/n, show us what you're bringing to the barbeque, girl!"

While you had an ear to ear shit eating grin plastered on your face and your hands on your hips, you bent your body down and your hand reached down in that plastic bag, pulling out a huge salami, your mouth still grinning while your eyes looked at that huge salami.

You held up that salami with a huge smile on your face like you were presenting this meat like it was something to be proud of.

It was a treat when you bent down, because the audience could see some of your thong underneath your apron.

"That is the BIG stick!" Triple H exclaimed. "Hey Shawn, where'd you get those cool clothes you came out here with? A fire sale?"

"Well y/n, Triple H" Shawn started. "How do you like your Undertaker? Do you like him rare, medium or well done?"

Shawn and Triple H proceeded to cut a promo towards the Undertaker and Owen Hart, stuff you don't give a crap about.

While they were cutting a promo, in particular Triple H, you were staring at Trips with a wide grin on your face like you really wanted him.

You walked closer to him so you could snuggle up right next to him, leaning and pressing your body next to his.

You snuggled yourself next to the opposite part of Triple H's body that didn't have a crutch under his arm.

One of your arms draped across his shoulders, whereas your other hand was on his chest, your index finger drawing circles on his chest.

As you did this to him, your eyes were looking up and down at him while you grinned at him, thirsting over him.

After Triple H was comparing his manhood to Owen's, Triple H offered to show the audience why you stuck with Shawn and Trips instead of the Undertaker and Owen (and anyone else, for the most part, for that matter).

Triple H moved the microphone towards your lips, the camera zoomed in on your face.

"Well, Triple H and Shawn have such big, hot, juicy, delicious meat" you confessed, putting emphasis on the word "delicious". "I can still feel their meat's hot juices in my mouth and running down my throat"

One of your hands moved to your throat and motioned their juices running down your throat, although you didn't choke and strangle yourself.

Men and women got some of the sexual innuendo you were saying, and the women shrieked and squealed when you gushed over Triple H and Shawn's meat, and you're not talking about what they're grilling.

Triple H was grinning whilst you said this about him, his eyes looking at you while you mentioned that.

Shawn, too, was grinning as you gushed over his private parts.

Triple H then moved his microphone back to his mouth.

"Even though I've got her by my side" Triple H stated "For all you California girls out there..."

Women in the audience started cheering and squealing when they heard they were called.

Shawn handed Triple H that huge salami you pulled out of the bag, and as Triple H held that huge meat, he proceeded to make a pun about Ric Flair and then a sexual innuendo, thrusting his crotch while he had that huge salami you pulled out of the plastic bag in front of his crotch.

Speaking of which, while Triple H was holding onto that huge salami, your fingers wrapped around that salami (not his penis) and proceeded to start slowly pumping and cranking your hand up and down that salami like you're masturbating it.

No, you weren't masturbating his penis, but that huge salami you pulled out of a plastic bag.

Sometimes, your fingers rotated around that salami.

As you looked like you were jacking off that salami, the men in the audience loved this, cheering for you, whereas Jim Ross and Jerry Lawler's eyes bugged out of their sockets and were at a loss for words.

You were grinning wickedly from ear to ear as you looked like you were masturbating this huge salami and Shawn was cutting a promo.

Triple H interrupted Shawn's promo sometime, to mention you.

"She's obviously hungry for some of my sausage!" Triple H stated, pointing his thumb to you, to which you nodded your head whilst smiling. "Well, you'll have to wait a while until after this is over"

Your smile then turned into a pout, sticking your bottom lip out and looking disappointed.

"Don't worry" Triple H calmed to you, to which your eyes looked at him. "Shawn and I've got some hot dogs that will fill your buns!"

You smiled from ear to ear, to which the women in the audience shrieked hearing that innuendo, even Shawn cackled a bit hearing that pun.

"She'll have a bite of our hot dogs soon!" Triple H added, thrusting his crotch out while one of his hands made a chopping motion next to his crotch.

The audience got out of their seats and roared in delight, cheering.

"Oh, will you stop that!" Jim Ross said rather angrily.

Shawn proceeded to still cut a promo, you were looking at Shawn or either at Triple H, you looking at Triple H and sometimes Shawn like you wanted to fuck him while you had your mouth grinning at him.

You didn't really like the way Shawn looked with facial hair, Shawn was hotter without it.

_____________________________________________________________

I've always had this fantasy of my female wrestling original character I created being the main female in D Generation X instead of Chyna, as well as this fantasy of my female wrestling OC doing all of this stuff (wearing nothing but an apron, gushing about Triple H and Shawn's meat).

And today is the 4th of July, where people have barbeques!

[friccinfricks]

The Princess & the Pauper Pt. 2- Ben Hardy x Reader

A/N: okay this one’s extra bad. I, um, ahem, barely edited. And it’s long. School’s starting, it’s late, I’m tired, but this is kind of... giving me a lot of joy? Like, writing this is making me legitimately very happy. Someone commented on my last one and it made my fucking day. So please comment/reblog/like! And if you want to request anything, for this series or another, my inbox is open. Let me know if you want to be tagged!!

Warnings: cursing, sex jokes, a Karen, bad writing, you know.

-----

Y/N stood uncomfortably behind the desk that sat near the door.

“A price increase?! This is ridiculous, let me speak to your manager! At once!” The customer on the other side hollered. She was a stout, larger woman with thick makeup caked unto her face, making her seem even more monstrous. Y/N balled her fists tighter.

“Madame, I’ve already told you, there is no manager. I’m the owner.”

“Then bring out your husband!” Her voice shrieked even louder, her chest heaving as she flailed her arms.

“I have no husband, madame. And if you can’t pay for the dress, then please, leave without it.” Y/N spoke sternly, trying her hardest not to roll her eyes. Husband this, husband that. When would the world come to their senses about marriage being a sham?

The woman huffed, reaching into her coin purse and throwing a few pieces on the counter dividing the two women. Y/N stood up more straightly as she heard the door open and the bell jingle. She looked to the door and lo and behold, there was the fellow from yesterday, the man accompanying Princess Lucy. He looked disgruntled, red rimmed his puffy eyes and he wore the same clothes from the day before (however, so did Y/N, but that wasn’t unusual for her. For a palace official though... it was odd). She gave him a warm smile as she handed the woman her dress. She stormed out, checking the young man with her shoulder as she did so. Rami rubbed his shoulder as he approached Y/N, not sure how to pose his request.

“Hello, sir.” Y/N said. “Are you looking for something for her royal highness?”

“More like looking for her royal highness herself.” Rami muttered beneath his breath. Y/N raised an eyebrow, her soft smile disappearing entirely as she saw the bruise on Rami’s forehead.

“Are you alright? What happened?” She asked gingerly as she moved a hand towards the mark. He winced as she touched the bruise, making her quickly retract her hand.

“I’m fine, but Princess Lucy isn’t. She’s been kidnapped.” Y/N gasped and brought her hand over her heart. “And I need a favor from you.”

“Me?” Y/N said softly, a strand of Y/H/C hair moving to cover her eyes. She pushed it back, blinking a few times as she listened to what Rami said next.

“She’s been taken. And I don’t know by who, but if you give me a couple of days, I’ll find her, I know I will. But no one can know of her disappearance.” He said, elbows now leaning against the desk, head lowered, voice soft.

“What? Why not?”

Rami looked over his shoulder, wondering how honest he could be with this stranger. “The royal mines- they’re empty. The Princess has to get married- quickly- so that the kingdom remains economically sustained. If not, we’ll crumble. Everything will. She... she didn’t want to have to do it, but she knew it was her duty.” Y/N nodded. She had figured as much. The supply and demand of Dulcinea had already shifted slightly, just enough to make her increase the prices of her dresses.

“So, what I need from you, is to come back to the palace with me and stand in for the Princess.” Rami continued, looking at her, pleading with his eyes.

“I can’t impersonate a princess. Are you mad?” She whispered, pointing to her hair. Rami stood up and smiled.

“I’ve got a solution for that.” He quickly ran out of the shop doors and returned, a package in hand. “Open it.”

Y/N did so, gasping as she pulled out a blonde wig. “How-”

“Even princesses have bad hair days sometimes.” He chuckled. Y/N smirked involuntarily. 

“Okay, but... I don’t know how to be a princess. And what about my shop? I can’t just take an unpaid vacation.”

“I’ll be sure you receive compensation. I promise. And with a little studying, I think I can have you ready to be a princess by the end of the day.” Y/N leaned against a column, putting her head back, contemplating.

“Alright, I’ll be a princess.”

-----

“This is bollocks!” Ben whispered to Gwilym as he watched his royal advisor, Damian, get into the carriage after the Prince and Dukes had made themselves comfortable. Gwilym and Joseph both rolled their eyes. They’d known Damian for years, and none of them were fans. Damian had a way of weaseling his way into parts of royal life that he wasn’t entitled to. The emeralds and rubies that donned his pudgy fingers shone as he gripped the cushion next to Joseph. His breath smelled of foul alcohol. 

“Just pay him no mind, maybe he’ll go away.” Gwilym mumbled, closing his eyes and stretching his legs out.

“Hey, Daddy Longlegs, please, keep your gargantuan limbs on your side of the carriage, thank you.” Joseph whined, playfully kicking his cousins legs.

“You’re just jealous, shorty.” Gwilym replied, not bothering to open his eyes. A smirk danced on Ben’s lips as he watched his cousins bicker, just as they always did.

But once the carriage began moving, Ben’s mind moved to other places. He felt sick to his stomach- he was terrified. Terrified of failing, terrified of disappointing his father, but most of all, terrified for the future. Though he liked to pretend he didn’t notice it, he saw how happy his parents were together. He wanted what they had, pure, intimate, cherished love. But what if he couldn’t find it in time?

------

Lucy paced the small room, back and forth, back and forth. She didn’t know how long she’d been locked in here, this room with blocked off windows and the small, uncomfortable bed. She pounded on the door, just as she did every few hours. A few moments later, her captors appeared at the other side of it, and she heard the key in the lock turn ever so slightly.

“Yes, your highness?” One of them said, poking his head in. Paul.

“Oh, Paul, thank goodness it’s you and not Peter.” Lucy said, trying her best to cover the disgust in her voice as she said their names. Paul and Peter were twins (it’s always twins, isn’t it?), both of them being gangly, lean men. They were young enough to be ignorant in every form of the word, but just old enough to, hypothetically, successfully kidnap a princess.

“Ay, what?” Peter demanded, poking his head in just above his brothers.

“She was just saying how she, the Princess, much prefers me to you.” Paul stated smugly.

“Oi, I know that’s a crock of shit! What about that time I brought you a muffin, your majesty?” Peter asked, looking pleadingly at the Princess. She shrugged her shoulders.

“You brought her a muffin?! What makes you think she’s deserving of any amenities? She’s our prisoner!” 

“Aye but look at her! We can’t starve her!”

“Gentlemen, gentlemen, please,” Lucy motioned for them to come into the room. “I called for you because, well, I’m so dreadfully hot.” She said, pointing to the fireplace.

The brothers looked at each other and then at her.

“Are you mad?” Paul asked.

“Hmm?”

“It’s nearly autumn, you’ll freeze!”

Lucy shrugged her shoulders again. “I’m sweating and ruining this dress.” She lied, “It was expensive. I’ll make you pay the difference as a deduction from whatever ransom you receive.”

Once again the brothers looked at one another, then it was their turn to shrug their shoulders. Paul turned on his heel to guard the door while Peter retrieved a bucket of water and put out the fire.

Lucy thanked them each quietly as she felt the already obvious draft come in. She shivered, laying back down on the bed. A few more hours, then it would be ready.

----

“Now, remember: no nagging, bragging, sweating, fretting, slipping, or tripping allowed. Stay present, stay pleasant, and proud.” Rami instructed Y/N after she’d put on the wig, changed into a proper gown, and found a tiara to place on her head. She nodded, though in all honesty, she didn’t catch half of what he was saying. He motioned for her to sit down at the small desk that sat in the corner of Princess Lucy’s bedroom, then promptly handed her a feathered quill and a piece of parchment.

He continued giving instructions, and Y/N wrote them down as quickly as she could. It wasn’t long before she was being taught how to curtsy and walk with a stack of books upon her head. Rami smiled as she began finishing tasks before he had even given the entire direction and knew that while Y/N may not have been born royalty, she sure as hell could act the part.

“And when in doubt, what do you do if you don’t know how to respond to something?” Rami asked, gripping her shoulders and looking intensely into her Y/E/C eyes.

Y/N pouted and furrowed her eyebrows, looking practically identical to Lucy. “Let me consult my personal advisors.”

“Perfect.” Rami grinned ear to ear. “Now, let’s get ready to meet some suitors.”

“Who’s coming, again?”

“A prince and two dukes. They’re all cousins.”

Y/N nodded, swallowing her nerves. This would certainly be interesting.

------

Ben watched as the castle came closer into view, taking in the sight of the countryside along the mountain it sat upon. It really was beautiful.

“Benny,” Joseph said softly, mischief gleaming in his eyes. “Are you prepared to meet a princess who will make you harder than this mountain?”

Just as he said it, the carriage hit a harsh bump and Ben’s side of the carriage sagged. The three cousins chuckled while Damian sat in his corner, rolling his eyes. These heathens! No respect for the crowns on their heads whatsoever. Shameful.

It didn’t take much longer for the carriage to arrive at the palace. When it did, the men were greeted by the palace guards and quickly escorted into the throne room while some of the servants retrieved their luggage. The four entered the room, where every set of eyes fell upon Y/N. All three suitors felt their breaths catch in their throats as she slowed looked to the three suitors presented in front of her. Ben had to force his eyes away from her for just a moment when he realized the Queen was talking.

“... and view the palace and all that your courtship would have to offer...” Ben heard the Queen say before he noticed the other person in the room- a man of smaller frame with a mop of curly dark hair pulled back. He stood by the Princess, one arm behind his back. Ben wondered what he was holding, but dismissed his thoughts when he saw Y/N’s movement in his peripheral vision. For a princess, she looked... nervous. Unsure of herself, almost. Perhaps she’s just humble. Don’t find a humble princess too often these days.

“Lucy? Lucy darling?” The Queen said, looking at her daughter, who stood on the other side of the throne. Y/N blinked a few times and turned towards the Queen, her hands shaking.

“Y-yes mother?” She stuttered softly.

“Please, why don’t you escort these young men around the palace?” She said, waving her hand off. Y/N nodded and lifted her dress just enough so she could walk down the three steps off of the platform in the throne room. As she reached the final step the three suitors walked towards her, moving quickly with her. Ben didn’t realize he was moving so slowly, he was practically drooling over her. He watched as she gracefully descended the steps, looking over her shoulder with a smirk he mistook for mischief (in reality is was a nervous habit Y/N had developed, and it was really coming out these past few hours). And that voice! So soft, so delicate. He watched as Joseph and Gwilym went to her sides, both offering their arms for her interlace her own in. Her hands shook as she grasped both of their arms, making Ben frown.

The quartet walked around the palace, Y/N trying her hardest to remember where she was going and how to get back. Rami had walked her around the palace briefly, but it hadn’t been enough time to memorize the location of every room.

“And here we have...erm,” Y/N paused, looking inside the room before quickly backing up and giggling, her eyes wide, pulling her right hand from Joseph’s arm to cover her smile as she laughed, “well, that was supposed to be our palace infirmary, but, um....” She shook her head, knowing it wouldn’t be very princess-y of her to say what she saw.

Ben raised his eyebrows, a smirk on his face. Ah, that laugh. He loved that laugh. Y/N leaned her back against the wall, biting her thumb to keep from bursting out into laughter.

“What’s so funny?” Gwilym asked, leaning over her to see inside the room. Y/N shook her head.

“No, no, don’t look in there, you won’t find it amusing!” She said, waving her arms. 

“Oh, I’m sure we’ll find it funny.” Joseph said, a smirk of his own growing. The pair of Dukes approached the door, about to open it. Just as Gwilym’s hand met the knob, the infirmary door burst open and a quite sweaty, older woman and a ruffled looking Abigor walked out. Y/N shook her head as a blush rose to their cheeks, her smile not bothering to hide itself.

Abigor looked at her and his eyes went wide. He pushed past the group of royals, muttering something about not having any privacy. Once he was out of earshot, the four looked at one another and doubled over.

“I honestly don’t know what they were thinking, the infirmary?” Ben chuckled, the creases of his eyes folding as he squinted with laughter.

“He’s... he’s got a room here and everything!” Y/N wheezed through giggles. 

The four laughed together some more as they walked, quickly easing any stuffy tension from before. Y/N walked on her own, no longer feeling the pressure to take the arm of a man to guide her.

When they arrived to the garden, they walked in a comfortable silence. They looked around freely, drinking in the scents of gardenia and rose petals. It was nearly sunset, making the view of the kingdom and mountains surrounding it even more beautiful. Y/N took in the view before Ben called her over, a yellow rose in hand.

“Princess Lucy?” He said softly, his expression nervous. Y/N turned around to face him, furrowing her eyebrows when she saw his face. She took a few steps closer to him and found herself involuntarily brushing his cheek with her hand, trying to relax him. He closed his eyes and tried to steady his breathing.

“Please, take this rose that I plucked from uh... from your garden.” He said softly, a chuckle concluding his request.

“Hey, no fair! I wanted to deface the garden first!” Joseph called from the other side of the rose bush. Gwilym turned to look at them as well, smiling at Ben and giving him a thumbs up.

“Oh, Prince Benjamin... I- I don’t know what to say.”

“Well, first off, you can start by just calling me Ben.” Y/N smiled at that.

“Alright, Ben.”

-----

Rami returned to the servants quarters, the Queen’s spectacles still in hand. If anyone in the palace would have been able to tell Y/N from Lucy, it would have been her. And for now, there was no way Rami would let that happen. He watched Y/N from his small window, she was clearly attracted to Prince Ben. She looked at him the same way Rami looked at Lucy, and Ben looked at Y/N the same way Lucy looked at Rami. Lovingly. Adoringly, even if they had only just been acquainted.

Rami turned around, placing the Queen’s specs in the tiny hole in the wall behind his bed. They would be safe there. Just as he moved his bed back and turned around, he heard Abigor talking to someone in the hallway. He approached his door, listening intently.

“You idiots! I know the Princess isn’t at the cabin, she’s out with those fucking morons in the garden right now!” Abigor howled, seething with anger.

“But sire, we know she’s there! She was in the bed all night and was there this morning! She even asked to have the fire put out.” A deeper voice said, matter of factually.

“You simpering simpletons! How long has it been since you’ve checked on her? Hours?! All day?! How is my plan supposed to work if the Princess is still here?!”

Rami stepped back from the door, feeling nauseous. A cabin? What?

“Yes sir, right away sir.” A different voice said. Then he heard shuffling, and the mutterings of ‘sorry’s by the two other men. Abigor scoffed, then sighed, leaving as well.

Rami sat on his bed for a moment, taking in what he’d just heard. Then he knew what he had to do.

He quickly grabbed a coat and a blanket before rushing out to the stables, hitching a cart to a horse and trying his best to catch up to the men who he’d just heard.

“Don’t worry Princess, I’m coming to find you.” He promised softly, looking into the sunset, wondering if she saw it too. He had to find her, he just had to. 

He concluded that when he did find her, he would never let her go. 

Never again.

[alinaastarkov]

Worst game of thrones hairstyles and why. Go!

Hi! Thanks for the ask! I profusely apologise for the extensive rant that is about to follow.

I thought, before we jump into negativity, I would list some of my faves. I liked the hair more than the costumes, and a few of these were really pretty. Here we go!

These are some of my faves and I will just run through a few of them. Dany’s hair was really good until the enormous braids started coming in. At the start, with a few really pretty braids, and especially when she had her hair down cause it made her look so soft, she looked amazing. It showed Daenerys the queen and Daenerys the girl at the same time. Her hair in these early seasons is what Arya’s should have been. The same goes for Catelyn and Cersei. These styles were understated but pretty, and was all part of Catelyn adapting to the Northern style and Cersei playing on her beauty to fool people. The same goes for Margaery. It incorporated braids and curls in a really fashionable way, matching her intelligence to her need to be underestimated. Sansa’s hair in King’s Landing (when it was down) was pretty too as she adapted to her surroundings and the people around her, but it was still soft and gentle like her. Petyr is here because he looks the most like his book character, I think out of everyone. They really cast and styled him perfectly. Jon’s bun style was the closest to book!Jon he ever got, and though I love his curls, I preferred this to his earlier looks. It helps that it matched his father’s and Arya’s hair, too, so for the first time (because of poor casting) we saw the family resemblance. And these styles for Arya, apart from maybe a few in the HOBAW, were the only times she looked like a Northerner and was allowed to look like a girl. It’s not perfect, as her Northern braids aren’t woven into loose hair, but it did make her look a little wild and were the only times we saw a proper Northern hairstyle done well.

Now, onto the ones I don’t like:

I’ll get these in heere now because they’re not the worst. Joffrey and Tommen’s hair was weird. It’s not the long, golden waves as described in the books, they don’t really look like Lannisters apart from the colour, and the hair itself did not work with the crowns they both wear, especially Joffrey. I don’t know, it’s not terrible, but the men’s hair was mostly unremarkable, so, scraping the bottom for these. And then young Ned. *sigh* Why did 20-or-whatever-year-old Ned have the exact same hair as Sean Bean? He hasn’t changed his hair in 17 years? Lazy and boring and makes no sense. He should also have darker hair but that’s a book thing, so…

From now on, we’re gonna tackle this by character. Up first: Margaery Tyrell

Margaery almost escaped this list because her hair was often really good. As with the outfits, I know she was supposed to be pious, but the hair was a miss in that situation. It was basic and boring, and so far removed from the Margaery we had seen before. Why is her hair straight all of a sudden when it has always been curly? And the way she tied it back when she wore that awful dress in season 2 looked very strange. As for her wedding with Tommen, there was the opposite problem. As Tommen was younger, she needed to look more innocent and sweet, but instead they went over the top to make her look elaborate and rich, almost emphasising that her family was ambitious. Normally her hair and clothes struck a balance between innocent and ambitious, but this just went too far and it didn’t really fit her face. Though, I have to say, I don’t despise any of Margaery’s looks.

Now, Cersei Lannister

Some of these just made absolutely no sense. The helmets of braids she got, one of which was lopsided, just looked awful. It was far too much and they’re never seen again, which shows how bad they were. I don’t even know what her hair was supposed to be during the tourney but it didn’t work at all. And her short hair didn’t always look terrible, but it got far too shaggy for a Queen and here it didn’t fit the clothes she was wearing in this picture.

The Sand Snakes

Once again, I am simply bored by the Dornish characters in the show. There is no variation or variety, very little thought put in other than hair that might be useful in battle. They didn’t care to give them anything interesting and it shows. Where is Tyene, with her flowing golden hair? Where is Nymeria’s soft but deadly features? Where is the variation? It’s boring and does a disservice to the Sand Snakes.

Sansa Stark

I liked Arya’s northern braids, but Sansa’s version did not work. They were a lot messier than Arya’s (ironic, isn’t it?) and it wasn’t styled properly to fit the image of a proper northern/ southern lady. She would have been better off with hair more like her mother’s rather than braids, both aesthetically and storywise. Her hair in King’s Landing early on was similar to Cersei’s, which was definitely a bad thing. Her hair, which looked like a massive headband, was not as bad as Cersei’s version, but it wasn’t a good look. There were no strands or enough loose hair to properly frame the face, so that became the only thing to focus on and it didn’t work. Now, Sansa’s second wedding looked alright mostly (though I was not the hugest fan of the dress but I’ll get into that in another ask) but the hair was an issue story-wise. There was this thing going on with the Starks, supposedly the wildest and most rugged of the great families, where their hair was constantly super tight and pulled back, restrained when it should be free and wild. I know Sansa was being held against her will, but this wedding is also to give the Boltons a claim to Winterfell, so they needed to emphasise that she was a Stark, and that includes having Northern hair.

And once again we have the opposite problem. Her coronation hair had nothing to it. It was completely straight, unadorned and had no northern-ness to it at all. There were no waves to give it a bit of depth. It was super plain, boring and unimaginative. Then the Dragonpit, though it looked good, at that point Sansa had betrayed her Northern heritage and her family, so she shouldn’t have been the most northern-looking person on the screen. Once again, this is a style that Arya should have had, not Sansa.

Arya Stark

Just like the costumes, she had the same hair for 3 seasons. It got old quick, especially when she has different hair in the books during this time. It made sense for 1 season, not 3.

This monstrosity was one of the worst hairstyles in the show. The one time Arya gets the chance to dress like a girl, and this is the hair that goes with it? Really? It didn’t frame her face well, it reduced the feminine aspects that Arya was finally getting to express, and was a clear attempt to infantilize Arya and prevent the audience from thinking of her as a woman. It was also not a very nice style on its own; the buns should have been further back, but that would have been space buns and so very inaccurate, so she should have just worn it down anyway. Huge miss on this one. Super ugly. Only upside is she finally got the blue flowers she deserved.

This is what I said about the Starks having restrained, pulled back hair and it’s especially egregious for Arya, who is sooooo Northern and so wild. She needed her hair down, with braids woven in, longer and more natural. Instead, her hair looks like it’s covered in tar and there is nothing natural or northern about it. Once again, I am bored by the looks. And she kept this for two seasons straight, never changing. It’s ridiculous. The makers of this show just didn’t care about Maisie or Arya and it shows visually. It makes no sense for the princess of the north to have the same hair and clothes for years, with zero variation, especially when Sansa and Dany are out here with a new look every episode, sometimes two in a single episode.

This is what Arya’s hair should have looked like:

It’s extremely disappointing what we got instead.

Daenerys Targaryen

I mostly adored Dany’s hair, but as the seasons went on her braids got more and more elaborate and fake, and it started to become painfully obvious that it was a wig with huge braids stuck on. The looks with huge buns in the back just looked a bit silly, and I feel bad for Emilia who must have been so weighed down by all of that on her head. The braid she wore beyond the wall, and the one on the bottom row second from the right, were just a bit messy. As I said, her hair became a bit insane as it went on, making it less believable and less beautiful. And her finale hair, whilst fine from the front, was the most obvious example of braids being stuck on. It was basically a helmet and it made no sense. The braids were far too big and it didn’t work.

Sorry for the rant, nonny, but thank you for the ask!