#Like I don't imagine her mother to be the kind of person you'd need a briefing to interact with successfully

[hephaestuscrew]

Minkowski would be so intense about introducing Eiffel and Hera and Lovelace to any of her loved ones back on Earth. She makes the crew sit through a PowerPoint presentation on suitable topics of conversation to discuss with her mother. She gives Dominik a folder of detailed guidance about how to interact with Hera because he's never met an AI before. She asks Eiffel several days beforehand if he has decided what he's going to wear to meet her family, as though Eiffel has ever in his life put thought into an outfit more than 30 seconds before getting dressed.

She tries to control every parameter of the interaction in a way that actually makes it more uncomfortable for everyone involved. She spends the entire time sitting right on the edge of her chair, looking anxiously between each of these people she cares about, trying to tell whether they are getting on, and attempting to communicate with them individually through urgent expressions.

And of course it doesn't work. Eiffel puts his foot in his mouth. Dominik is confused and curious about all the wrong things. Minkowski dares to leave the room for a few minutes and when she comes back, her mother is showing the crew her baby photos, and Minkowski knows she'll never live this down.

[crazy-ache]

Jane Eyre x Elucien Parallels (In-Depth Meta)

We've been told SJM loves the book Jane Eyre and we know that she has made some literary references to the novel in her own writing. For example, the most commonly known Elucien allusion is the one below:

Elain in ACOWAR:  “It felt… strange,” Elain breathed. “Like you pulled on a thread tied to a rib.”

Mr. Rochester in Jane Eyre: “I have a strange feeling with regard to you. As if I had a string somewhere under my left ribs, tightly knotted to a similar string in you. And if you were to leave I'm afraid that cord of communion would snap. And I have a notion that I'd take to bleeding inwardly. As for you, you'd forget me.”

This parallel is a HUGE clue. Now, let me explain why the story of Jane Eyre is very well a map for what Elucien's central themes are likely going to explore in their book.

Could SJM be using Jane Eyre as a model for Elain's character and hero journey? Yes, I do. Here is why.

Let me describe Jane in a nutshell for you: she was someone who came from a difficult and isolated childhood and who used her meekness and reserved nature to fit into circumstances. However, we learn she is a smart, witty, innocent, stubborn, and feminine female protagonist. Despite all the societal and religious pressures to marry a husband, Jane was insistent she would only marry for true love.

“I am no bird; and no net ensnares me; I am a free human being with an independent will.” ― Jane in Jane Eyre “Shall I tend to my little garden forever?” When Nesta flinched, Elain said, “You can't have it both ways. You cannot resent my decision to lead a small, quiet life while also refusing to let me do anything greater.”

....when I was reflecting on that, I was hit with a wow that is Elain Archeron if I have ever seen anything.

Jane Eyre is a story of Fate, Love, and Autonomy. Just like Elucien.

Without getting too wordy, let me summarize a few things for folks who never read the novel.

The connection described between Jane and Rochester is one of fate. Jane and Rochester fall in love from the start because he treats her as equal, but their marriage is thwarted because Rochester is still married to Bertha Mason (the madwoman in his attic).

Even though she loves him, she has complicated feelings about marriage. She is afraid of the restraints and expectations that will be placed on her if she were to marry.

She leaves him for some time and they endure a long period of separation. In that time she meets St John who will also propose to her, but is meant to represent dutiful marriage without true love and warmth. St John was described as a cold love, whereas Rochester was described as fire.

Eventually, she realizes she wants true love above all else, and returns to Rochester. He has lost his wife by then and it is only then that they are free to finally marry and live together as equals in love.

OKAY. That is definitely an oversimplification but I needed to lay it out for our road map. Let's compare now.

Elain and Lucien shared a fated connection created by the Mother with their mating bond. We also know that a long period of their relationship is defined by their separation where Lucien goes to find Vassa and maintains his distance from Elain out of respect of her feelings.

We know Elain likely has complicated feelings about the bond. She says to Feyre, "I don't want a mate. I don't want a male." She is resisting the bond with Lucien. While we don't have her POV yet, I imagine it has to do with resisting something that she doesn't understand, that is taking away her autonomy in love, and influencing her fate for her.

Elain is likely also going to have two marriage prospects, just as Jane did. We know of her engagement to Graysen, who was described as "kind enough" by Nesta and later rejected her horribly. This marriage would have been similar to St John - one more out of duty for status and safety and marked by coldness. Whereas we have Lucien, with fire in his blood, and a warm personality, which is what Jane described true love to be like.

What is keeping Elain and Lucien apart? Bertha Mason.

Bertha, Rochester's wife and mad woman in the attic, was a symbol of Jane's suppressed emotions and inner conflict in regards to Jane's marriage to Mr. Rochester. She represented what Jane feared the most of traditional marriage at that time--becoming trapped and isolated and mad by the female expectations of society and religion.

It was only once Bertha was gone that they could have their Happily Ever After. (It's important to note she perished in a fire.) Her absence was a physical representation of Jane losing her reservations about marriage and fully becoming sure of herself in confidence, status, and her DECISION to pick to true love.

Which tells me that Elain will return and love Lucien only after her own reservations of the mating bond are addressed. Maybe fire will even be involved/symbolic burning of their obstacles (which would be so fitting for our fireling). I think there is also an added layer that Elain wants more from life than what is expected of her by the Inner Circle, which is hinted at throughout ACOSF.

SJM told us herself in an interview:

“I’m not going to say if I am exploring it in future books or not, but it definitely offers a wealth of things to explore with this concept of freewill and what is true love. Is it something that’s destined? Or is it something that you make? Is it both?”

If she is truly influenced by Jane Eyre, we know the answer. When it comes to Elucien, it's both.

Other Symbols of Jane Eyre in Elucien

A few more interesting parallels I found:

Mr. Rochester gifts Jane a pearl necklace upon his first proposal. Jane refuses to wear it and even leaves it behind. "I left that; it was not mine: it was the visionary bride’s who had melted in air." Notice she rejected not because she doesn't like Rochester or the gift itself, but because what it symbolizes. A bride.

Lucien gave Elain pearl earrings for Solstice. She could barely thank him and we never know if she wears it. I am going to infer that Elain rejects the gift (with silence and indifference) because she is terrified of what it represents...of her accepting the bond between them. I found it so interesting SJM chose to use pearls and have them react very similarly.

Jane Eyre is filled with literary symbols of Fire vs Ice, with fire representing passion and true love, and ice representing duty and cold love.

Lucien could very well be a living symbol of fiery, passionate love ("Autumn Court males have fire in their blood—and they fuck like it, too" anyone??) Graysen and Azriel could also be symbols of that "icy, cold" love in comparison to Lucien.

We also cannot forget that Mr. Rochester waited and waited for Jane to return. Just as Lucien is waiting for Elain to be ready.

In Conclusion...

Let me leave you with one more piece of evidence to convince you. In Jane Eyre, Jane says this of Rochester once she has finally decided to be with him:

"All my heart is yours, sir; it belongs to you; and with you it would remain, were fate to exile the rest of me from your presence forever.”

In ACOWAR, we have this moment between Elain and Graysen:

"I belong to no one. But my heart belongs to you.” Graysen’s face hardened. “I don’t want it.”

Elain will eventually realize her heart belongs to Lucien Vanserra. And he will give her the true love, peace, and happiness she has always wished for her entire life.

“When I sleep,” she murmured, “I can hear your heart beating through the stone.” She angled her head, as if the city view held some answer. “Can you hear mine?" He wasn’t sure if she truly meant to address him, but he said, “No, lady. I cannot.”

Lucien's heart already belongs to Elain. Likely since the moment their bond snapped, which is why she can hear his heart.

In their book, Elain will give her heart to Lucien, as it belongs to him. And has likely always belonged to him.

[thenewausten]

Quackity being proud of being the reader's girlfriend c:

Thanks for the request!

Quackity being proud of his girlfriend HC's!

He'd always say to you how proud he's of you! Like, imagine him just approaching you after a long day you just had and kissing your forehead. "I'm proud of you, Y/N." He'd whisper as he hugs your waist

Giving you a bouquet of flowers when you achieve something, whether in your career or in your personal life, he'll always give you a bouquet!!@ (And of course, a lot of kisses)

Talking about you in live means being called a simp by his whole chat!!! "My girlfriend is very amazing, I'm very proud of her. She's so smart, chat, and... Don't call me simp, okay???" He says as he reads it.

Comforting you when you need to!!@ He'd see how much you're tired and pulls your body on his lap. "It's okay, princess... You just need to rest, my love." He whispers into your ear. "I'm so tired, Alex!" You cry in his chest as he caresses your hair. "I'm a failure." You whisper. "No, amor. Don't say that, okay?! You're doing great, baby. It's okay to be tired." He kisses your head and makes you look at his eyes. "I love you so much, okay? Let's take a shower and eat 'somethin."

Alex would run a bath for you and then ordering your favourite flavour of pizza so you'd eat and watch a movie to relax <3

Cuddles and kisses later at night, whispering in your ear how much he's proud of you!!!

Talking about how you're very determined, smart, kind, beautiful and funny to his mother like a teenager in love for the first time 😭

Looking at you with so much love!!!@ His eyes shining as he looks at you <3 It doesn't matter if you were studying, if you were reading, working, sleeping... Boy's always looking at you with so much love and passion!

"I'm very proud of being your boyfriend, you're an inspiration for me, Y/N. You make me a better man everyday. I love you so much." He'd whisper to you in his car, after a very cute date in a cozy restaurant.

The boy is so lucky to have you as his girlfriend and he's always making sure you know that! <3

Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy the writing! :)

Requests are open!

[stevesbipanic]

Steve always gave Eddie flowers.

It was one of his moves from his old King Steve days, giving the person he liked flowers. He just thought it was a sweet thing to do, he always tried to make sure it was their favourite flower or a flower that reminded him of them. When he was sixteen he had borrowed a book from the library about the meaning of flowers so he could make them swoon telling them that the flowers meant beauty or kindness or grace.

He had asked Wayne what Eddie's favourite flower was, he said sunflowers he thinks it comes from Eddie's mother she always loved sunflowers before she died. Steve had remembered sunflowers meant loyalty and adoration, he thinks that fit Eddie Munson perfectly.

He wished Hawkins had a sunflower field, he knows there's one a few towns over, he and Robin drove through it once on the way to Indy. The florist in town flirts with him telling him how romantic it is to go to a flower field.

"You buying your sweetheart some flowers for Valentine's Day?"

"Yeah, they deserve something special today."

The girl seems a bit disheartened but covers it well, "A lucky gal having a gentleman like you."

She asks if he needs a card for the bouquet but Steve tells her there's no need, he can tell Eddie everything he wants to say. Any other year Steve might've gotten his valentine a box of chocolates or a teddy or balloons but he knew Eddie wouldn't appreciate those, the sunflowers would be perfect.

He took a deep breath as he parked his car before making his way up the hill to where Eddie was waiting for him. He smiled when he got to the top.

"Hey Eds, sorry I'm late, but I got you these, I know they're your favourite."

He sat down beside Eddie and softly placed the flowers on the dirt.

"I know I didn't technically ask you to be my valentine, but I like to think you'd say yes. Maybe we would've been coming up on one year together instead of one year without you. Could've taken you to that diner that Wayne said you liked to go to as a kid. He talks about you a lot ya know, I worry one day he's going to run out of stories and it'll feel like losing you all over again."

Steve takes a moment to lean against the stone and gather his thoughts.

"Robin worries about me, but I think she gets it in a weird way. I just wish we'd had more time. I mean you had just asked me out when all this went to shit with Chrissy and Vecna. I never wanted you to get in the middle of this, I should've protected you Eds. Part of me wonders what would've happened if we had planned to go out after the game, maybe you would still be here."

A light wind blows, softly during the tears on Steve's cheeks. If he closes his eyes he can almost imagine Eddie is the one wiping them away. Steve thinks about what Eddie would say if he was here. He'd probably blush at the flowers, pull his hair in front of his face to hide it but that bright look in his eyes would give him away. He'd probably giggle at the holiday, talk about how it's such a straight persons day but secretly love it when Steve kisses his cheek. They'd probably share a milkshake at the diner and hold hands under the table.

They'd probably do a lot of things if they'd had more time. Probablys don't bring back Eddie, so Steve will sit with him on the hill, the bright sunflowers laying stark against the bittersweet backdrop of their lost potential. Steve places a soft kiss on top of the headstone.

"I hope you enjoy the flowers, sweetheart, I'll be back tomorrow."

[lokisprettygirl]

Rain to his Fire (Modern! Daemon Targaryen x Female Reader) (Non Canon 80s Au) (18+)

Read Chapter 6 here// Series Masterlist

Chapter 7

Summary: Amidst the chaos of learning the truth about Tanya, you meet someone from the past and things develop between you and Daemon.

Warning: 18+, smutty scenarios, crude language, description of Statutory rape, discussion of mental health (it's a fic based in a mental health facility), mention of physical assault, the fic would contain several mentions of several disorders like mpd, did etc, if something triggers you don't read, smoking.

As you heard the news about Tanya, your heart started to race and your chest began to feel tight. You knew that you needed a moment to yourself, so you hastily excused yourself from the cafeteria and ran hurriedly to make your way to the fourth floor to get to your room.

On the way you saw Daemon as he was being escorted for his session and the washed out look on your face concerned him to say the least.

As soon as you went inside your room, you locked the door and sat down on the bed to think about Tanya. Poor girl, she was suffering so much with her sickness while she was here. But she seemed so happy while she was discharged, she hugged you so warmly as if she couldn't wait to get out of this place, then what happened to her?

And Why was her body found near King's landing?

You were lost in all the questions when you remembered the note you had found under her mattress so you quickly got up and reached into your closet.

Reading the note now filled you with immense guilt and uneasiness, at first you had assumed that she was just paranoid of her environment, a mental health facility wasn't exactly a happy place to be in, you figured that it was one of her personalities just writing anything but now your heart felt sinking into your guts as you realized that the note could have been a distress call for help.

Perhaps she knew something, or someone who was trying to harm her. You felt nauseous about the implications of the note, perhaps you could have helped her if you had passed on the note to the police. You should have looked for her, why didn't you?

Tears rolled down your eyes as you remembered her sweet face, she was so young and kind and she didn't deserve whatever had happened to her.

That afternoon members of the staff were informed that the police would be interviewing each member separately, you had never been questioned by the police before so obviously it made you nervous.

You couldn't even breathe properly, at one moment it seemed as if you'd die of a heart attack like your mother did.

As you were finally called in, you went inside Dr Darren’s office, the investigation was being held there.

“Good afternoon” you mumbled as you sat down. There were two men sitting opposite you, a middle aged brown haired man and the other one with dark hair seemed younger, and he also seemed familiar for some reason.

"I'm Detective Hightower," the older man said, introducing himself and his partner, "Detective Criston." You nodded nervously and tried to take in a deep breath, but your chest felt constricted still..

"You seem nervous," Det. Criston Spoke as he offered you a glass of water. "Have a drink”

“I'm fine..i am just nervous” you spoke nervously,

“Don't be.. it's routine..we just have a few questions regarding Tanya Anderson” Your eyes teared up as Det. Hightower said her name.

“Sure” you were looking anywhere but at the officers and you wondered if they would see you as a suspect because you were acting really suspicious.

“You're tearing up, I can imagine it must be hard as you were assigned as her custodian, is that correct?” Det. Criston asked, his voice firm but professional.

“Yeahh”

You had tried so hard to control your tears but you failed eventually so you placed your hand over your eyes as you cried as silently as you could. Det. Criston got up from his chair and offered you the glass of water so you took it from him this time.

“Thank you and I'm sorry”

You mumbled meekly so Det. Hightower gave you a comforting smile.

“It's alright, take your time”

A minute later you finally took a deep breath and looked up at them.

“Okay I'm ready..thank you for being so kind” you said politely as you recovered from the outburst you had just now.

“No issues..so y/n..how long have you been here for?”

“Two years”

“Was Miss Tanya the first person you looked after, not just as a custodian but as a friendly companion as well?” Hightower asked so you shook your head in response.

“There are several patients I care for while I'm on duty, she was one of them but we definitely got along, she just seemed so out of place here when she wasn't suffering from her ailments” they looked at each other as you said that.

“What do you mean?” Hightower inquired,

“She seemed normal most of the time and then sometimes she would freak out out of nowhere, she was suffering from multiple personality disorder or something. Dr. Vis was treating her here at the facility” you told them so Hightower nodded his head as he wrote down your statement. Why did you have to mention Vis? They must know that already.

“Alright …did she ever tell you anything personal, about anyone trying to hurt her or just anything really?” Criston inquired so you shook your head.

“No, not really, she often talked about her childhood but never went into much detail.”

“Okay good, thanks for your time y/n, we will connect again if required” Criston said to you so you nodded and as you were about to get up you realized that now was the one and only chance you'd get to tell them about the note you had found, even though it might get you in trouble with the management.

“Can I ask you something?” you asked nervously so Det. Hightower gave you a slight nod.

“What happened to her? When did she die?” You asked them solemnly so they shared a look with each other.

“It's a classified information that we can't share just yet”

“Okay ummm the day after she was discharged from here, I was cleaning her room for the new patient and found this under her mattress, perhaps it can be of help”

Criston grabbed the piece of paper and as soon as he had read it, you saw the worried look on his face instantly.

“Who else knows about this?” Hightower asked you.

“Nobody” as you answered you noticed that he seemed instantly relieved.

“Thanks for bringing this up to us”

You nodded as they dismissed but as you stepped out of the office you heard Detective Criston calling your name so you turned around.

“Hey y/n..I think you didn't recognise me in there” You looked at him confused as he said that, he did seem familiar. “It's Cole, we went to middle school together.. perhaps the term rock boy would jog your memory?”

“Oh you're the boy that collected rocks ..oh i know youuuu” you smiled as you finally recalled the memory, it brought an unexpected smile to your face. “So detective huh? That's amazing... wow that's so cool” you said to him as you crossed your arms.

“Thank you..well i am still obsessed with collecting rocks though” You let out a small laugh as he said that.

“Why have I never seen you here before?” You asked him so he sighed deeply

“Because I just got transferred like a month ago, I was in Bradford before I got here” you nodded as he said that.

“Ahhh well okay..i better get back to my work now, but it was really nice catching up with you” you mumbled politely so he gave you a smile.

“Sure”

“Ummm if you find out something about her. Will you let me know?” You asked him so he nodded in response.

“Is there a number I can call here to connect with you?” He asked you so you nodded so he took out a pen from the coat's pocket and offered you his palm as a parchment.

“Uhhh okay” you chuckled nervously as you grabbed onto his fingers to write the digits on his palm before you mumbled a goodbye..

As you turned around you saw Daemon standing a few feet away from you with two guards holding onto him. He was staring deeply into your soul and it made you nervous.

“Not this guy again” you heard Criston mumbling so you turned around to look at him. Did they know each other? The events of the day were becoming increasingly strange. It was especially puzzling since Daemon wasn't even here when Tanya left so why was he being questioned.

You hadn't seen Daemon all day, so visiting his room directly seemed risky. Waiting until night, you knocked on his door once before sneaking into the terrace and walked towards the ledge, looking down. Your heart sank again as you thought about Tanya, imagining her final moments stirred emotions you didn't wish to face. You couldn't shake off the feeling of helplessness, knowing that you weren't there for her when she needed someone in her corner.

The scent of mahogany filled your nostrils before he had his arm wrapped around your waist so you turned around and hugged him tightly, finally letting the tears out. Caressing your head gently he then placed a soft kiss on your shoulder. Your fingers clenched around his shirt as you felt the warmth of his body, on a cold night he felt like a comforting bonfire.

“I found a note under the mattress, a cry for help and i ignored it..i thought she probably wrote it in her fits of paranoia, what if I had caused it…what if it could have been prevented if I had gone to the authorities or perhaps if I would have checked on her–” your lips trembled as you spoke, you had been keeping it all in since this morning and his hot comforting embrace was all you needed in the moment.

“Shhhhh it's not your fault alright? You couldn't have known darling..it's an unfortunate tragedy but you can't put the blame on yourself okay” you shook your head as he said that so he cupped your cheeks and wiped your tears “Hey look at me..not your fault, none of this is your fault” he mumbled softly so you placed your head back on his chest and nodded as you let out your tears until you couldn't cry any more.

Once your breathing leveled back to normal you pulled away from him.

“Why did they call you in for questioning? You weren't even here back then” you asked him, worry evident in your voice.

“I don't really know..why did that copper have your telephone number on his palm?” He asked you, a hint of jealousy visible and it made you smile a little.

“We went to school together..he remembered me” he squinted his eyes for a moment before he rolled them around in typical Daemon fashion.

“He's an arse” he grumbled.

“Why would you say that? Do you know him from before?”

“It doesn't matter..how are you feeling?” he asked as he shifted the conversation again.

“Okay..I'm okay” you mumbled softly.

“You should get out of this forsaken place once in a while” he said to you.

“And go where..do what?”

“Anything..you're young and beautiful, live your fucking life” you let out a chuckle as he said that.

“And do exactly what out there? Get drunk in bars and have sex with random men?” he grabbed the back of your neck as you said that, the smirk on your face only boiled his anger. He hated imagining that scenario in his head, a sight of you in some other man's bed, writhing and moaning underneath him.

“I'd kiss you right now if I wasn't your first kiss” he whispered against your mouth so you stifled the moan that was threatening to spill from deep within you.

“I have been kissed before”

“I don't think so”

The audacity. Not that he was wrong.

“It wasn't consensual but i have been kissed” his brows furrowed as you said that.

“Elaborate”

“You don't want to know trust me”

“I do want to know”

“Well long story short I was at party with few of my friends, I got drunk out of my mind and then started to cry because I was just sad.. really sad, about my life and I kept crying and this guy that I was dancing with kissed me out of nowhere.. and i hated it, I didn't like it at all” you mumbled hurriedly so he grabbed your cheeks between his palms. If he had enough information he'd have found the guy and perhaps beat him to pulp for touching you like that in your vulnerable advantageous state.

“I'm starting to see why you're so appalled by intimacy”

“I'm not against it..i just don't want to do it with every other fella” he smirked as you responded. He knew you would want to do it with him sooner or later, his ego was soaring these days due to that particular reason.

“Kissing a person you adore is a high darling, nothing short of a drug” he whispered in your ear so you pulled away from him to control yourself.

“You must have kissed many people then” you taunted him so he chuckled.

“Didn't really adore half of them”

“Well i didn't enjoy being kissed so–”

“Were you attracted to that bloke who forced himself upon you?” he asked strictly.

“No”

“That's why..you have to have the hots for the man who's into your mouth darling” you bit on your lips as he said that. You had definite hots for him and you wanted his mouth in yours.

“We should go”

Before we do something stupid you thought.

He stared at your lips for a moment so you placed your hands on his chest and nudged him slightly to get out of his warmth but you weren't really expecting what he was about to say next. Unpredictable as always.

“Sleep with me tonight” his tone was deathly serious and you couldn't deny how your intimate areas were tingling at the prospect of it.

“Are you joking?” you chuckled to hide your arousal.

“No ..I'm not joking, I'm not asking you to have sex with me, just sleep with me, in the same bed”

“That's not a good idea at all”

It was a great idea but a risk you couldn't take these days, besides you had never slept with a man you were attracted to before.

“I'll come to your window..nobody will know”

“No ..stop..lets go” you giggled as you dragged him along with you to take him back to his room.

Once you laid down in your bed, your mind shifted from thoughts of Tanya to those of Daemon, you wondered how it would feel to have him so close to you, his mouth rubbing against yours slowly and sensually.

The following day, you were assigned to clean room 390, formerly occupied by Mrs. Rodriguez, who had been discharged. This left you surprised, considering her frail mental state. While tidying up, the sound of the door opening caught your attention, and Doctor Vis stepped in, his presence intimidating and commanding like always.

“Good morning doctor” you mumbled politely so he gave you a smile and walked closer to you, you didn't even understand what he was doing or why he was looking at you like that but a part of you knew it couldn't have been about anything else but Daemon. Your life seemed to revolve around him only these days.

“Did you hear about the upcoming gala on Sunday?” He asked you so you nodded in response. The fundraising gala was traditionally held annually at King's Landing institution, offering a unique opportunity for patients, doctors, and staff to come together for one night, setting apart from the usual daily routine.

“I want you to take my…uhhh i want you to make sure that Daemon is on his best behavior at the gala” He said to you, making you all perplexed about his motive.

“How would I do that?” you asked him firmly so he smiled again.

“Just keep him engaged in conversations, think of it as a part of your duty and you'll earn a hefty bonus immediately”

Well the bonus would be nice but the entire situation bewildered you. Why did he only assign these extra tasks to you? Especially after that day when he had seen Daemon attacking you?

On the night of the gala, you chose to pamper yourself with a refreshing shower and meticulous grooming. After doing your makeup, you slipped into a black, full-length dress gifted to you by your mother, a piece you had never worn before, you never found the occasion for it.

You didn't dress up this lavishly for the previous galas as you really didn't care unlike this year. The dress featured thin straps that hugged your figure, a smidgen of cleavage on display, leaving you feeling both elegant but also slightly exposed. However you wanted to look sexy tonight, it was strange having such feelings, wanting to dress up for someone, getting all dolled up so he'd look at you differently and would perhaps make your knees tremble with his inappropriate touching and filthy words.

You enjoyed that feeling.

As you reached the main hall you felt everyone's eyes on you, especially your colleagues, they were not used to seeing you so made up.

There were plenty of influential people invited at the gala, it was a grand affair, alot to look forward to but your eyes wandered around to just see him, besides you had a job to do.

You didn't know what you were expecting but you definitely didn't expect to see Daemon in an all black suit that gave him the aura of a royal prince. Two guards had been appointed by the Viserys to bring him to the venue but as he entered Viserys gestured them to uncuff him from the shackles and then he gestured to you to keep an eye on him. The look hadn't gone unnoticed by Daemon as he walked towards you.

“Who knew you were hiding all this behind that granny dress you wear everyday” he mumbled as he neared you so you rolled your eyes.

“Who knew you were capable of wearing a two-piece suit?” you retorted making him chuckle in response

“You look gorgeous love” he muttered, a smirk playing on his lips,

“You look handsome” you responded honestly.

“Thank you”

“I'll get a drink” you turned around to get to the bar as you felt flushed under his intense gaze. As soon as you had your back to him he stared at your hips shamelessly while you walked away from him and cursed profanities under his breath, the dress hugged you in all the right places and his instincts were screaming at him to pounce on you right now.

To claim you in every possible way, show you what you were missing in your bed every night.

He was half a wild unruly creature and sometimes you made it really hard for him to keep that animal intact inside him, your alluring presence ignited the fire already burning within him, compelling him to satisfy that beast who just wanted to mate with his mate.

You made it really hard for him, literally and figuratively.

His eyes met with Shyla at the other end of the hallway but she quickly looked away as he approached you.

“It's my birthday” he mumbled as he stood next to you at the bar so you looked at him surprised.

“Really?”

“You can check my records”

“Why didn't you tell me all day?” You asked him so he rolled his eyes.

“I don't celebrate it”

“Why not?” you probed further to make him open up so he sighed.

“You need friends and family to do so.. didn't have any of that growing up” there was a hint of sadness in his tone and you felt your heart clenching at the sight of him.

“Well..how old are you now?”’

“35.. I feel ancient”

“I hear you” you hesitated for a moment before you spoke further,

“I have a job to do ..Dr. Vis have asked me to keep you in line and in return i would receive an early bonus” he chuckled as you said that, clearly amused.

“He's an imbecile” he scoffed

“True but he's being cautious, you areeee unpredictable” you admitted to which he responded with a smirk.

“Uhhhuh and that arse thinks a pretty little thing like you would get me under control if I wanted to go berserk right about now?” he asked arrogantly as he stepped closer to you. The scent of mahogany made your knees weak already and he hadn't even touched you yet.

“Perhaps I can do that” you replied confidentially as if to challenge him.

“You're overconfident love…I care about you but you can't tie me on a leash and have me wrapped around your fingers like a domestic pet” His words were affecting you in ways you couldn't even describe to yourself, you didn't think it was possible to feel so turned on by a man speaking to you so callously.

"Mhmmm, perhaps I would simply have to manipulate you emotionally." He raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued as you challenged him again.

“And how would you do that?”

“Like this” you made a sad face and your eyes teared up suddenly as you looked at him with that pathetic puppy look on your face, his eyes softened for a moment before he realized that you were messing with him.

“Oh you little minx”

You couldn't help but grin at his response, feeling the sizzling chemistry between you, the flirting and the electric tension filling the air. The sight of him dressed so sharply added fuel to the fire, igniting a heat within your core. He then walked so close to you that there was not an inch of space left between your bodies, for a moment you worried about being seen like this but his words kept you hooked to him.

“Ask me to be nice and I won't disappoint you” he whispered in your ear.

“Will you be nice please?” You asked him softly so he caressed the bridge of your nose before he stepped away from you.

“You got it Princess”

And he upheld his promise, throughout the gala he was well behaved and polite with everyone, not that many people were interacting with him. He was misunderstood and he had done nothing to diffuse those rumors about him attacking Shyla. Sometimes you envied the power he had where he didn't give any fucks about his reputation.

Later that night you grabbed a piece of cake and made your way to his room, he had left the Gala before you and you didn't want to look suspicious so you waited for a bit before you stole the cake and sneaked out quietly.

Like always he had his door open so you entered immediately.

As expected, you found him standing by the window, his arms resting against the frame, the soft light of the moon bathing his silhouette.

“Happy birthday” you mumbled softly as he turned around and his gaze met with yours. The gentle flicker of the candle you had carefully placed on the cake casted a warm orange hue and he didn't know what it was about the gesture but it made him want to cry. All his adult life he had fought against emotions like these but with you he was failing miserably.

He walked towards you as he stared at you so you gestured towards the cake,

“Blow and make a wish” you told him so he chuckled and shook his head but his resolved melted as you made a pout, you didn't bring any fork so you cut the corner of the slice with your fingers and offered the sweet delicious treat to him, you weren't really expecting him to suck your fingers clean off the delicious cream. He grabbed the plate from your hands and stepped away from you to place it on the dresser before he approached you again.

“I want to touch you” he murmured under his breath and your heart ceased to beat for a moment.

“Where?” you asked hesitantly but evidently turned on by the husky whisper of his voice.

“Everywhere” he wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you closer to his chest so you looked up at him.

“You can't start touching me everywhere at once, it's …scary” you mumbled softly.

His fingers trailed up from your wrist and you shuddered as they caressed the curve of your shoulders, he messed around with the straps of your dress before he lowered them down, exposing your clavicle and a bit of cleavage, it wasn't really much but you felt as if you were all naked , you felt as if he could see right through you and the thought made you feel so aroused.

As his thumbs traced over your collarbone, your eyes rolled back in your head involuntary.

“Is this alright? Not too much, hmm?” he asked, his voice gentle but slightly mocking in your ears.

“No..not much..” the trembling of your voice betrayed the conviction in your words.

“Yet you're shaking like a leaf” he murmured as his thumb traced over the curve of your breasts, ragged breaths escaped your chest at the touch. You could feel yourself dripping in your thong. “Depriving yourself of such pleasures all your life? It's a shame darling, a woman as sensual as you was made to be ridden every night”

You silenced him with a gentle press of your palm against his lips as he spoke filthily.

“I don't want to be touched by anyone or everyone” you mumbled meakly as his hands wrapped around your neck like a necklace, his hold both possessive and gentle at the same time.

“And I would be honored if you'd allow me to savor a part of you that you've never shared before, my sweet girl. I promise to keep it safe, secure, and thoroughly pleased.” your eyes moistened at the sincerity in his voice.

“Mmmmhm? Kiss me then”

You looked him in the eye and cupped his cheeks as before you got angled up and pecked his lips briefly.

He leaned down and took a whiff of your scent before he sucked a mark on your neck, his lips then trailed up to your jaw and as he kissed the corner of your mouth, you felt your knees trembling with anticipation.

“Daemon” you whispered against his mouth as he cupped your cheeks.

“Mmm?” He asked, concern filled his voice as he didn't want to make you uncomfortable in the slightest.

“I …adore you..very much”

“As do i”’

With those words he then planted his lips on yours, your breath hitched in your chest as you gasped in his mouth, the wave of feelings that you experienced felt unfamiliar. This feeling that you had, you couldn't have anticipated it. It definitely wasn't the same as kissing your own hand as a child to practice kissing, and it definitely didn't feel as awful as it had with that man you didn't even remember the name of. He let go of your upper lips and looked at you for a moment,

“I'm not kissing you back am i?” You asked him between your bated breaths but he didn't answer, he smiled instead and leaned down to capture your lower lip into his mouth , his hands cupping your other cheeks as he pulled you closer to him.

The feeling of his warm big hands rubbing over the curve of your rear flipped a switch inside you right then and you reciprocated his movements, arms curled around his neck as you followed the rhythm of his mouth.

For the first time in your life you felt as if you were in a hazy dream, this feeling felt too good to be true, and for the first time your boring mundane life felt as exciting and as thrilling as those wild dreams you have had all your life. And it terrified you if you were being honest with yourself.

As his tongue slipped into your mouth you were a goner, the taste of him was something you could see yourself getting addicted to, it offered you a euphoric high like that of a drug as he had said, it felt intoxicating, but it was a high no other drug could ever compare to.

As the kiss deepened, he didn't pull away until he was gasping for breath, stealing the air from your lungs with each frantic inhale. Doubts filled your head, and you wondered whether the kiss was as magical for him as it was for you. Did he feel the fire burning within his soul, or was this moment merely a fleeting distraction for him?

“It is” he mumbled softly as peppered kisses all over your face so you looked at him confused “it is as magical for me as it was for you darling”

You still didn't understand how he was so intuitive, perhaps he had a strong sixth sense or something, considering that he was half dragon, you were still on the fence of believing it completely.

“Turn around for me” he asked you, his tone commanding so you hesitated for a moment before you complied. Then, the cool touch of metal wrapping around your neck caught you off guard, drawing a gasp from your lips.

Honestly you just wanted to kiss him again and then again.

“Daemon–”

“It's a gift…belonged to my mother” You turned around to look at him as he said that.

“I don't think I deserve it yet” you whispered softly so he placed his fingers on your lips to shut you up.

“Just keep it .. please”

“Okay”

He placed his forehead down on yours as he sighed so you tucked his hair behind his ears before you cupped his cheeks.

“What is bothering you?”

He wasn't the only one with strong senses it seems.

“Nothing” he mumbled as he grabbed the locket of the pendant between his fingers and contemplated his words before speaking “Don't put it on in front of Viserys”

“Viserys?” You looked at him confused so he nodded.

“Dr. Vis”

He had a full name? Why didn't you know that after all these years?

“Okay..why though?” Your puzzled expression prompted him to sigh again.

“He'd recognise it..it belonged to my mother” his answer only confused you further.

“Why would he know about this Daemon?” you asked him as the curiosity piqued, you knew Dr Vis had been treating him for a while but why would he know about the necklace you thought, it was personal. And that's when he revealed the truth about his relationship with the man you knew as Dr. Vis.

“Cause he's my brother.. he's my older brother”

👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀

Taglist

@anukulee @ammo23 @littledark11 @stupidthoughtsinwriting

@daenny-t

[iheartred]

i LOVE ur writing n it’s perfect because i need to consume more media abt the black phone. could i request the black phone x reader where reader is rlly feminine? idk how to word it sorry i hope u get it😭😭

The blackphone x reader

m.list

Them with Feminine!reader

cw : fluff/crack / reader has no distinct gender but is feminine !!(they/them will still be used!!)

a/n : I understand this in a way (I think??) I hope everyone else understands too, and I'm hoping this is what you meant whsjsh😭

(After writing this I think this is just more of a really pretty and kind!reader oo my bad whsjsh,also this will be pretty short whdjd)

Finney Blake :

Doesnt know how to be around you

Like he's always so nervous, whether it'd be your very kind and soft personality or you're entire style that take his breath away

He's like just amazed at how pretty you can be dude :C

You : Hey Finn! What are we doing in class toda- you good??

Finney(sweating) : never been better!

You : okay??

he will try to compliment you and by try I mean he'll walk up to you, stare at you like you're a God, look down, then walk away

And you're just standing there with your friends wondering what that was all about

Friend : huh?? Was he gonna ask you out or something

Robin (from the sidelines) : he was gonna say you looked nice y/n

You : oh! Tell him I said thanks!

He'd tell you over the phone how sorry he was about how weird he was

Robin Arellano :

" Eres Bonita "(You're pretty)

Is all he'd say outlook before saying it was nothing when he realized you didn't hear him

He will literally always be trying to impress you, intentionally or unintentionally he will do so

He'll literally pick you up if you said your legs were hurting

Helps you fix your makeup because he always sees his mom during her makeup and she taught him how to do a girls makeup if he ever wanted to really impress a person

You : Wow!! My makeup looks even better than before Robin, thanks so much

Robin : Ofcourse no pro-

And then you'd kiss him on the cheek as a real thank you then you'd run off saying "OKAY SEE YOU TOMORROW BYEBYE ROBIN!!!"

Bruce yamada :

Will steal your sweaters as a joke because you said he'd never rock any sort of outfit you wear

Lowkey kinda likes these sweaters, won't ever admit that though

Will do your nails with you

You : Bruce you're literally painting my entire finger at this point stop

Bruce : whattt noo that's craz-

You : Bruce. I don't have nail polish remover. Please

Then he'd stop..

Then paint you finger again and run away

Loves to show off when he's at a game and you're there, will be on 170% during the entirety of the game

If his team coach ever found out it was you who fired him up like this, expect your mother calling you down to tell you that it was the coach for the 50th time that week

Loves doing you hair, since he has a little sister I can imagine him doing her hair whenever his mom is out and about or she would just rather that her older and cooler brother do it for her

Vance Hopper :

Is probably also really nervous around you

Doesnt show or admit it though because letting someone like you ruin his reputation of being a hard-core tough guy would be embarrassing

Now this doesn't mean he'll straight up ignore you, or be rude towards you it just means he won't ever let himself be seen blushing whenever you tell him how pretty he can be too

Vance : That's embarrassing literally shut up

You : It's not though! You really are pretty, like your hair and you're eyes are just really-

And then all you can hear is rambling from your end and a Vance who's trying really hard not to show that's he's extremely flustered by this

if he felt like the day was going pretty great, he'd definitely be very openly kind to you

Telling you how gorgeous you looked, complimenting your hand writing, letting his hand linger a little longer on yours when he tried reaching for his paper

Anyways, I feel like if you asked him on this particular day he'd MAYBE let you put his hair up not in public but you know it still works

Billy Showalter :

Is nervous around you, like whenever you're out in the morning waiting for the daily newspaper he always makes sure your last so he gets a lot of time to spare so he can talk to you

Billy : goodmorning y/n

You : Goodmorning Billy! Thanks for the newspaper!

You say slightly shouting it

He loves when you talk to him, especially when you ask him for help, specifically

He knows anyone would ask for help, but when you ask it's like an angel just put a blessing upon him

will help you put your hair up with your pins, and loves to compliment them

Billy : your pins are very cute

You : thanks Billy, I get them from Walmart they cost like one dollar, sometimes even just 50 cents!

Next thing you know, Billy comes up to you with different pins whenever they have new ones in-stock

Is flustered around you a lot, but never shows it

But his front breaks whenever you pat him on the shoulder and tell him he did a good job, or thank him for helping you study for the test that day

You always walk away and never realize that you leave him a blushing mess of a man

☆ ☆ ☆

[mendessi]

speak now | part five

pairing: fem!reader x pre-outbreak!joel

summary: joel saves you from the biggest mistake of your life

(this will end up being a multi-part story)

word count: 2.8k

warnings: smut probably, pre-outbreak, mentions of marriage, based off speak now by taylor swift, mentions of domestic abuse, joel is 26 & reader is 21, mentions of cheating, kind of slow burn, brief mention of death, angst, will add more as i think of them, not proofread

this chapter: kind of domestic joel at the very end

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five

minors dni

"Do you have everything together?" Joel asked Tommy as he entered the hotel room.

"Yeah, all packed." He said.

"What time do you wanna head out tomorrow?"

Tommy hesitated and it came out as more of a question, "Two?"

"Two? We won't get to Austin til after midnight if we leave at two. I already told the Adler's we'd stay for dinner after getting Sarah." Joel almost raised his voice, but refrained. Tommy understood why he had been so touchy recently and gave him a pass because of it. He had lost you the only person he ever really loved.

"I asked around and she's getting married at two." Tommy told him, hoping Joel would pick up the rest.

"I'm not watching her get married." Joel finally snapped and then put his head in his hands muttering an apology to his brother.

"Not watch... Stop." Tommy said. "You can't let her get married to that man, Joel. Statistics don't lie and she will not survive that relationship."

"That's not my problem." The words stung coming off his tongue and it almost made him physically sick, "She doesn't love me and I don't love her. Just some summer fling."

"That's a lie and you know it." Tommy took a seat in the chair across from the bed. "Joel, you were like a love sick puppy following her around these last few weeks. Never in my life have I seen you so infatuated with somebody, let alone someone you just met."

"I know." Joel sighed. "I know. That's why it's hell, Tommy. Losing her to someone like him. It scares me thinkin what she'll go through. It makes my chest hurt like I can't breathe knowin that we'll be gone tomorrow and she'll just be stuck with him for the rest of her life. It fuckin hurts, Tommy."

"So don't let her get married tomorrow." Tommy told him.

"She doesn't want me." Joel shook his head and looked at the ground.

"I'm gonna tell you somethin, Joel." Tommy inhaled a short breath and then looked up at his devastated brother in front of him.

The next morning your annoying mother-in-law woke you up barely as the sun was rising, talking about how you had hair and makeup appointments to get to and that you needed to eat breakfast before doing so.

It felt like you were in your own personal hell being dragged around all morning by her. Barely touching your breakfast, the idea that you'd be married come this afternoon making you nauseous. If only this woman knew how horrible her son was.

People were in and out of your house all morning, people you didn't know. Everyone invited you didn't know because they were all his friends and family. You only had the friends you worked with and they were hardly friends, you certainly weren't close enough to invite them to your wedding.

The day was beautiful at least. You almost wished it had been storming so it would be called off all together and would deny your betrothal a bit longer. There wasn't a cloud in the sky and for the first time all summer, the temperatures weren't scorching hot. It was how you always imagined the day to be when you dreamed about your wedding.

Staring in the mirror, you found it easy to dissociate from the reality that was currently setting in. People touched your face and your hair and even your nails despite having them done just the day before. You thought of Joel and how he was probably halfway home to his daughter, leaving any thoughts and memories of you behind in Austin. Now you'd get to live with every single piece of himself that he left behind because you lived here.

"Are you not happy?" Your fiance's mother asked.

"I'm great." You forced your best smile and looked at her as she watched what the hair stylist was doing.

"He told me." She said to you.

"He told you?" Your heart sunk and you tried to hide any surprise you might've shown at the question.

"That you had another man in the house while he was away."

"Yes, I did." You didn't bother lying. Even if you did, she wouldn't believe you.

"Did you love him?" She asked.

"More than anyone I've loved before."

"I was in your position once." She said. "When I married his dad. I didn't want to but I did it because it was a woman's only way of survival back then: marrying into wealth. I loved somebody else but he couldn't give me what I needed."

You sat there speechless that she was opening up to you. Over the three years of you knowing her, you never talked so personally. It was refreshing to say the least than her regular nonsense about things that simply didn't matter to you.

"I'm sympathetic for you. I know what it's like to be in your position. I won't pretend my son is perfect but neither were we as parents so perhaps that's our own fault. Going through with something like this is quite frankly a woman's purpose in life. Doing things we don't want to for the sake of a man's ego." She said to you. "At least you look beautiful doing it."

Her words stung but a part of them felt slightly right. This was your place in the world.

"Did you ever see him again? The one you loved?" You found the courage to ask.

With a shake of her head and a sad smile she said, "No, but if she would've came through those altar doors I would've left with her in an instant."

Tears brimmed your eyes as you looked at yourself in the mirror, your mother-in-law zipping the back of your dress up. You felt hopeful that maybe the two of you would have a healthy relationship after today. There wasn't much you knew about maternal relationships, you didn't have one with your own mother so there was nothing to compare it to, but she seemed empathetic today.

With only five sons and no daughters, experiencing a wedding from her daughter-in-laws perspective was somewhat touching to the old woman. It's always different for mothers and daughters in weddings and in childbirth, there are just certain things to be shared between the two.

Your dress was beautiful, handed down to you from his mother, a gesture you didn't expect. It was simple and that was something you loved. The sleeves were sheer which was a nice touch considering the Texas heat and hung just off your shoulders. The neckline was modestly cut straight across and didn't reveal any cleavage but made your collarbones look nice. The dress flowed effortlessly to the ground, pooling ever so slightly at your feet and instead of white it was a soft cream color. Your hair was pulled into a simple bun, pieces left to frame your face.

You held back tears not wanting to ruin your freshly done make up and wished silently that your dad would be here to walk you down the aisle on what you presumed would be the best day of your life. This wasn't the best day like you imagined. You weren't marrying someone you loved and to be honest this day felt like the last one of your own.

"You look beautiful." His mother said placing her hands on your shoulders. "Come, it's almost time."

Your lead to where the rest of the bridal party is stood outside the altar doors and you hear the music start playing. It bothered you that even your wedding party was assigned by his mother, nobody you knew well. His cousins who were your bridesmaids for the day and his groomsmen who he chose all congratulated you upon your arrival and it made you wonder how his entire family seemed so sweet and he was so awful. But then again, he was sweet at first too.

The music didn't sound like music at all as pair by pair started walking down the aisle, moreso sounding like nails on a chalkboard. His mother snuck back inside to find her seat so it was just you and the wedding planner now who would cue you when to walk. You took multiple deep breaths, each one shakier than the last and stared down at your feet.

"Your turn." The planner said and her and her assistant pulled the large oak doors open to the beautiful altar before you filled with people you barely knew.

You found a steady pace to walk down the aisle falsely returning smiles to those who smiled at you, trying your best to look happy. You imagined your dad had his arm linked with yours and was walking next to you, steadying you from falling. You imagined it was somebody, anybody else standing at the end of the aisle waiting for you. You swallowed the lump in your throat, realizing about halfway down the aisle that you weren't breathing so you reminded yourself to do so.

Once you reached your annoyingly too old for you fiance, you handed your flowers to your maid of honor who you couldn't even remember the name of and took his hands in yours.

"You look ravishing." He said to you, squeezing your hands so hard your knuckles turned white. He had a gleam in his eye like he had won, having you exactly where he wanted you. Joel wasn't coming to the rescue. He had won the prize.

"Let's get this over with." You said quietly as everyone before you returned to sitting.

“This beautiful couple you know and love have invited us to share in this celebration as they affirm their love before us, pledge their faith to one another, and enter into the joys and privileges of marriage." The preacher started and you fought back the tears that were threatening to brim your eyes. You wouldn't let him see you hurt like this.

"If there is anyone present, who can show just cause why these two persons may not be joined in matrimony, speak now or forever hold your peace.”

Your chest tightened as everyone's attention turned towards the sound of the church doors swinging open. Your head turned and it felt like every moment forward happened in slow motion.

Your eyes met Joel's down the aisle standing in the church door frame, looking like a literal angel with the way the sun hugged his figure. Like you always said before, Joel was the sun and he radiated warmth and safety and he was here. He was here to save you.

You looked back to your fiance who had a dumbfounded look spread across his face. Nobody wanted to say anything at all, not understanding who this man was that had just burst through the doors. Your eyes found your fiance's mother who was standing looking between you and Joel and you could've swore she had the tiniest hint of a smile on her lips.

Joel didn't even have to say anything, didn't even have to move for you to drop your fiance's hands. His eyes were hopeful that you'd come with him, he knew you'd come with him but there was still the ounce of doubt that what Tommy had said about your conversation wasn't true. You turned on your heel taking your first step down the stairs just for him to grab your wrist.

"Don't you fucking dare." He said under his breath.

"Now darling, don't cause a scene." You yanked your arm away from him and then picked up the fabric of your dress up just enough so it wouldn't drag as you took off sprinting down the aisle towards Joel, everyone in the audience collectively gasping.

A smile spread across his lips as he held his arms open for you, jumping into them and twirling you around once, pressing his lips to yours. He didn't pull away until you were on the ground and it felt like straight out of a fairytale for you. The moment young you would wait to see in a movie as a child. Joel was the prince and he had saved his princess.

"Let's get out of here." He said taking your hand in his.

Ignoring the screams of your ex fiance as you ran down the steps of the church hand in hand, laughing at how you nearly tripped down the stairs in your dress. This moment was everything to you both.

Joel pulled open the back door of the truck and you both climbed in, Tommy laughing loudly as he pulled off chaotically from the church parking lot.

"I love you. I fucking love you." You said cupping his cheeks and bringing his lips to yours, kissing him with every fiber of fiery passion coursing through your body.

His hands couldn't find one place on your body, just thankful that you were sat safely in front of him, "I love you, baby."

"Where are we going?" You asked through a laugh, as his lips pecked kisses all over your cheeks.

"Home. We're goin home."

ten years later | one year before outbreak day

You sat on the porch watching Sarah play with her younger sister, Savannah, who was born nine short months after you moved to Austin.

"Mom, did you see?!" Sarah laughed as she kicked the soccer ball right past Savannah.

"You gotta dive for it, Sav!" You laughed at the defeated look on her face.

Joel's truck pulled into the driveway and the girls immediately swarmed him and Tommy as soon as they got out of the truck. Tommy immediately began kicking the ball around with the girls, inevitably showing them who was boss. You stood up from the chair and stepped down the porch steps, holding your hands out towards him as he approached you.

"Hi, baby." He grinned down at you kissing you softly. "My shirt again?"

"It's all that fits." You pouted as his hands found their way to your swollen belly. "And barely." You noted how you only had a few buttons done and the rest of the shirt draped open exposing your pregnant belly.

"I love it. How is she?" He asked, brushing his thumb against your skin.

"Good. Any day now." You said standing on your toes to kiss him again. "We missed you."

"Our daughter's a real soccer star, huh?" He asked looking over as Sarah passed the ball around Tommy.

"Oh, she's going for the World Cup one day." You laughed and the two of you walked up to find a seat on the porch. Joel sat in the chair and you sat on his lip, leaning against his chest as his hands rubbed your belly gently.

Not a day passed that you weren't grateful for Joel and your small found family. Everyday reminding you that a found family is bit as beautiful as a born family.

PREV | NEXT ???

maybe ill continue this but post outbreak day

[becauseicantthinkwritings]

For Richer or Poorer

Part 5 of my Accidentally on Purpose Series!

Warnings: Smut (18+), toxic relationships, office sex, mentions of consensual somnophilia, pictures taken during somnophilic acts (also consensual), cheating accusations, attempts at humiliation, masturbation, talks of Billy's past attempted assault, mentions of murder, cunilingus, a sprinkle of sub!Billy.

This is completely dedicated to my love, @idaofinfinity who celebrated her birthday this weekend. Happy birthday baby, I'm so glad I met you ❤❤

Photo credits

It's been a month since you started working at Anvil, you've been learning the history of the company's charity donations in that time, and brushing up on the ethics of each organisation.

You share the same office with Billy, at the far end of the room where you sit at your desk and work quietly each day. When you need to make calls, or take meetings, you do it in the adjoining conference room, making sure to work around Billy's meetings.

Sometimes, you catch him staring at you when he's talking quietly on the phone, or deep in thought, and you grow accustomed to him zoning out in your direction.

You haven't seen much of Dominic, your schedule being very flexible. Which meant that you usually come in late, and then leave with Billy long after he's gone.

And you don't want to admit it, not to yourself, and definitely not to the man that coerced you into marriage, but you kind of maybe like it here.

It's a big responsibility though, and you know things will get harder as time progresses, but sometimes you look over at Billy, answering calls and sending emails, and you feel a sense of calm wash over you.

Once a week though, he's a magnificent force to be reckoned with.

You remember the first time you saw him in tactical gear, and you had to fight the urge to jump him in the office, on his desk.

It had become a silent fantasy, once a week, he'd go down to the training floor to help run tactical simulations, and observe the skill of his men.

You'd never seen him fight, but you could imagine it, and the imagery ruined your panties constantly.

You think about it a lot. The insanity of your situation, a month ago you were crying in your bathtub after being aggressively dumped.

Now? You're sitting in Anvil's rooftop restaurant looking out at the New York skyline during lunch.

You were wondering when would be a good time to tell your family and friends. Maybe you could downplay it, say you wanted something private. You knew your mother would take it like her own personal insult, acting as if you'd done it because you secretly hated her.

But maybe your friends would make a more reasonable focus group, there was a message from the group chat asking to hang out later this week sitting in your phone, and maybe, their reactions would help with your family's.

Maybe you could introduce him as you boyfriend? Would you hurt his feelings? Should you care about his feelings? You really didn't want any more people silently accusing you of marrying him for his money. Especially when you couldn't even remember the wedding.

You had more questions for Billy, things you were honestly afraid of knowing. Why you? Did he pick you on random? An easy target? Or did he scout you thoroughly before entrapping you in holy matrimony?

You didn't know which scenario was worse.

And what about the rings? You look down at the unique design sitting on your finger.

You remember the night you showed Dominic. He'd gone home after a night of drinking with his friends, and he'd just started telling you the sweetest things. It had made you giggle at the time. Explaining to you that he thought you might be it for him, and that he'd want you forever. In a quick moment, as a little laugh, you'd shown him the rings, telling him that you'd love to wear these if he'd ever- whenever he decided-

How could Billy have known?

Unless he'd been tapping Dominic's phone. Or maybe, by a long shot, Nic had shown him?

You blink.

Scarier thoughts.

You were a little afraid to act against Billy, like really act against him. You didn't know what he was capable of.

But surely, by marrying you, he'd given you the resources and opportunity to be capable of things that could match him?

Something to look into.

If you wanted.

That's what you think you should want... under the circumstances... but what did you really want?

You wanted your heart to stop pounding when you finally returned to his office to find him working quietly, after being in a meeting through most of lunch.

"Did you have lunch?" You ask, looking at him carefully.

He glances up, and you can kind of see the masked frustration in his eyes.

"Not yet, baby, it's okay, I'll manage."

You make a hum of dissatisfaction, moving up to him to lean against his desk.

"Mister Russo," you chide, and you watch him resist the smile as he looks up at you, he looks so boyishly innocent and your hand cups his chin gently, tilting his head higher so that you can place a gentle kiss on his soft lips.

Surely you had to be some type of lucky? To be able to kiss this man freely whenever you wanted? This couldn't be wrong.

"If you get something to eat soon, I'll sleep naked next to you tonight."

His eyelids droop, pleased at the thought.

"I'll have my secretary bring something up in a minute then."

You smile, a kiss to the nose.

"Good boy." You whisper.

A small sound of pleasure leaves his chest that you pay no mind to, completely missing the way his eyes widen in shock as you walk away from him.

There's a file on your desk, and you hum curiously, sitting down comfortably before flipping it open- and then immediately flipping it shut, eyes widening in shock.

Blood rushes to your head as you look up at Billy, whose eyes are already on you, a pleased look on his face, his deviousness shining through.

Your mouth opens to say something to him, but no words come out.

You're interrupted by his phone ringing, and he keeps his eyes on you as he picks up the device and greets the person on the other end with his last name.

He's temporarily distracted, and you grab the edge of the manilla folder and open it slowly.

There are.... pictures of you.

You remember suggesting it to him, asking for him to take pictures of you but you'd never expected that he would.

Which was honestly your fault because of course he would.

What did you expect? When he was fully sheathed in your sleeping body- that he wouldn't lean back a little to take a shot of the way you look stretched around him?

Where did he even get a polaroid camera from? How did you not wake up from the flash?

Another picture, your hand wrapped around his cock, his hand covering yours, you can see the peek of your breasts through your sleep shirt. The tip of his cock is slick and shiny with precum and your mouth waters for a taste. You think about the ways he must have touched you- used you while you were asleep in his bed.

You flip again, two of his obscenely large fingers are pressed into your mouth to the second knuckle. It's like you can still feel them, pressing against your tongue even though you weren't conscious when he took the photo. The images alone are able to elicit that much of a reaction from you.

The last picture is a shot between your legs, spread open wide to show off your most intimate parts, dripping an abundance of his come.

You swallow, body tingling and flick your eyes up to meet his.

He's still got the phone pressed to his ear, but his eyes are fixed on you, warm and inviting and melts every thought from your head in a sizzling sweep.

All you feel is desire, the need is so tangible inside you that you're not sure if you can do anything else but follow the feeling.

You stand, grabbing the folder, and moving to sit on the couch on the far end of the room, directly opposite to him.

You feel devious, and also maybe a little bit curious about how he'll react to what you're going to do next.

You avoid his gaze, casually opening the folder and leaning back a little. You prop your arm on the side of the couch so that the folder blocks your face from view. You study the pictures for a long time, listening to his clipped responses as he talks on the phone. It's a bunch of 'yes' and 'no's' followed up with dates and times for various things. His voice stutters when you spread your thighs, moving your free hand over your skin casually, as if there's no one looking at you.

You push it further, tugging your skirt up, spreading your legs wider so that you can press your fingers to the damp fabric between your thighs.

You hiss as your body gets some much needed pleasure, your eyes skimming over the pictures, using them as fuel to carry out your little show.

You want to sneak a peek at him, look at his face- Is he looking at you? Is he touching himself? But you know one look into those domineering, dark eyes and you'll be on your knees crawling to him.

So instead, you meander your fingers lower, pushing under the fabric of your panties, to touch your bare clit.

You hum, your body relaxing as your fingers dip lower, catching some wetness from your entrance and drawing it up to your clit to reduce friction.

You moan, your head falling back as you touch that spot just right, arching your back when you speed up and relaxing when you slow down.

The folder drops from your face, but your head is tossed back so that you can't see him, your eyes closed as one of your fingers tease your entrance, pushing in to the first knuckle.

You breathe his name, thinking about the ways he's pleasured you, about the way he looks at you and smiles at you and kisses you-

When there's a knock at the door, you raise your head in a panic, pulling your skirt down in a rush, making sure the folder is closed.

Your eyes meet his naturally. He looks calm outwardly, but there's a tenseness to him. His jaw is clenched, his breathing is sharp. One of his fists is curled tightly, resting atop his desk.

His eyes send a shiver over you, warm and inviting and you feel yourself get wetter in response.

"Come in." He calls, and his secretary pokes her head in.

"Hey Mr. Russo, Mrs. Russo," she greets, "I got that lunch you asked for."

"Great, here, put it on my desk." He says, and you watch her move easily to place the small box on his desk.

"I heard there's a small weather system moving in tonight, you guys be safe." She says.

You wish her the same with a smile as she leaves.

Your eyes are on each other in the next moment, his are heated and daring, challenging you to do something else.

You take his challenge, reaching up to unbutton your blouse.

The door's not even locked, but who would dare to enter Billy's office without knocking?

Your blouse is open in the next second, and you reach up your skirt to tug your panties down your legs.

God you just want him so badly, you couldn't stop thinking about him, you probably shouldn't be feeling this way, but you didn't care. You just wanted to have him, and hold him, and keep him just as much as he keeps you.

You wanted to own Billy Russo.

Your fingers are in your mouth in the next second, teasing him, getting them wet and spreading your thighs to resume your play.

It's hot, having him sit at his desk and watch you, you bet he's just rock hard and desperate for a touch of you. The lunch on his desk sits untouched at the edge, as your body fights the magnetic pull it has to his.

Your other hand, free from the folder, tugs one of the cups of your bra down, fingers worrying your nipple into a stiff bud, gasping as you push a single digit into yourself.

It's an empty feeling, of not being full enough, your entrance clenching around your finger, begging for more, begging for a Billy sized intrusion into your body.

You keep going, with no protest from him, pushing a second finger into yourself and pumping slowly.

Your body responds easily, the photos, paired with the right flush of arousal and you're gasping desperately, pushing yourself into the throes of pleasure.

It's so much easier, knowing your body, knowing exactly where to touch, how much pressure to use, your back arches and you come with a stuttered cry.

The pleasure blooms in your head, and you let out another little groan, your fingers still buried inside of you, riding out the orgasm.

When you hear the sound of a belt being undone a lot closer that you expect, you raise your head, your fingers slipping out.

He's a few steps away, dark eyes fixed on you, his belt undone and jingling with each step he makes.

"Getting yourself nice and ready for me, hmm?" He asks, undoing his pants, reaching into his boxers to pull his cock free.

You watch with open mouth as he sits beside you, reaching to grab your hips and pull your body to his.

"Put your fingers in my mouth." He says, and you oblige silently.

His mouth seals around your fingers just as he pulls you onto his cock, his tip stretching you open easily.

You both groan in unison.

The way he fills every inch of you, has you gasping, eyes rolling back from the very pleasure of it.

He's so deep inside you, it almost feels like he's deeper that he really is- you can almost feel him in your gut.

He sucks on your fingers as he begins to fuck you. He pulls and pushes your body, guiding you into riding him as an even pace.

You don't think too much of it when you push your fingers deeper into his mouth, pressing down on the back of his tongue for a moment.

He gags a little, and you give him a small smile, tugging your fingers out of his mouth slowly. His pace increases, your hips slamming forcefully together, small grunts leaving your lips.

"Did you enjoy that? Putting on a little show for me?" He asks between breaths. You mewl, unable to respond as you try to roll your hips on top of his.

"I know you did- God you're so fucking wet for me- how the fuck do I get any work done when I have you so close?"

You let out a little giggle, circling your hips and hearing him grunt in approval.

His fingers sift into your hair, pulling you forward and you sigh blissfully as your mouth meets his. He doesn't stop there, tugging your hair free until it's loose around your face.

You pull back, smiling curiously at him as he pets his hands slowly down the back of your head.

"Every inch of skin that isn't touching mine is criminal." Billy murmurs, pulling you close until your foreheads touch.

You sigh into his mouth, little puffs of air as he bottoms out inside you.

You pick up the pace, and he groans in approval, his hands firm on your hips as you gasp every time he bottoms out inside of you.

He's so deliciously big, and you know you think about it every time he's inside you yet you can't help it. Billy just pleases you in a way no one else ever could. The chemistry between you two is potent, the attraction is too strong to fight. You ache to crawl under his skin and live in the space between his lungs if he'd only let you.

"Gonna cum." You warn, swallowing his grunts eagerly.

He groans, his forearms pull you to his body tightly, his lips pressed to yours.

"On my cock, just like we practiced." He encourages and the words go right down your spine.

There's a loud roaring in your head, a warning that this orgasm is going to knock you flat.

You tighten around his cock, and he feels so much bigger, definitely making a space inside of you that was only his.

Your fingers fist the material of his jacket harshly, the other hand gripping his shoulder for dear life as you both chase your swift approaching highs.

Logically, you know this can't be love. You barely remember consenting to the marriage in the first place- and Billy had taken so many things away from you already.

So why do the words 'I love you' threaten to spill from your mouth as you reached your peak?

Thankfully, Billy's cock renders you speechless, your mouth opening wider, your back arching to press your body even closer into him as you cum. The world comes to a pause as your body tenses, before you shake with your release. Through it all, he doesn't stop, and the next thing you know, you're on your back, with six-feet of solid husband pressing into you.

This position gives him all the control, and his thrusts get that much harsher.

"So fucking beautiful when you cum, baby." Billy grunts into your neck.

"So pretty when you take from me.... Gonna fill you up now, just like you deserve."

You can only let out an unintelligent sound of approval. The give and take of your bodies transcend the barriers of your skin until you can feel him, everywhere, all at once and you know with indisputable fact, that Billy Russo belongs to you.

You say his name, because it's all you can remember after he's stripped your barriers bare and opened you up to him with wanton fingers and desperate eyes.

Your orgasm is sweet in your mouth, tacky and slippery under your skin, and sticky where your bodies meet. He groans against your mouth when he feels it and your body can't contain the pleasure, so you tilt your head back and you scream.

It's cathartic.

Like the lid being lifted off a pot that's been building pressure, and you scream in bliss as he guides your body through release.

"Good girl." He pants, "Good wife- oh fuck I'm gonna-"

And then he's groaning primally, barely contained, his hands in clenched fists beside your head as he comes deep inside you, his body shuddering for just a second when you clench around him to help him empty all of his cum into you.

It feels like a gift, that you accept greedily, always eager to keep his cum safe inside of you, silently thinking about the possibility of it taking.

You wonder if he wants kids. You wonder if you do. You sigh when he drags his softening cock out of you, reaching for an embroidered handkerchief in his pocket, using the silky material to clean up whatever slips out of you.

"You're perfect, y'know that?" He says to you softly, and you swallow nervously.

It wasn't something you were used to hearing, especially not after sex, when he'd already gotten what he wanted from you. Before sex? Sure. During? Maybe.

Billy had been the first person to praise you after the act. After. When he was already sated and there wasn't any reason to.

"Really?" You ask softly, and he looks up at you from his gentle clean up. Another thing he wouldn't let you do. Always insistent that he cleans you up.

"Really." He says with a firm voice, "You're perfect, and you're gorgeous and you're mine."

For the first time, those words don't scare you.

You can feel easy acceptance of the words. They're true, and you want them to be.

"I'm yours." You confirm to him softly, and the rest of words are unspoken, but you think them to yourself.

Are you mine?

His lips are soft on yours, insistent.

"Did I hurt you at all, baby?" He asks quietly into the space between your lips.

You look up at him, shaking your head easily. His hands cup your face and you close your eyes as he leans in to give the top of your head a kiss.

"You know you can always tell me right?" He says.

"I know." You respond simply, because you really did know.

When his phone rings, he turns to look at it with an adorable frown on his face, looking back at you. You give him a little smile and a nod, telling him it's okay, before watching him move to pick it up.

After a few minutes, you finally build up the resolve to make your way on shaky legs to his bathroom and back. You don't even bother with your heels, leaving them kicked off on his office floor.

It doesn't take you long to fall asleep, though you don't really mean to, only wanting to close your eyes for a few moments, but suddenly you're asleep.

.

You wake when he tries to move you.

"Wha?" You mumble, sleepily, breathing a deep sigh when he guides you to wrap your arms around his neck.

"Time to go home, baby." Billy says, and your eyes close of their own accord.

You don't realise or register what he's doing until he's picking you up.

You let out a little sound of protest.

"'M too heavy." You say, still half asleep in his chest. Your eyelids are so heavy, and your brain is full of fog.

"Go back to sleep. I'll wake you when we get home."

You make another sound of protest, and you hear the elevator bell ding as it reaches your floor.

"You can put me down if you want. I can walk." You try again.

"Hush, sweetheart, relax, I've got you."

"You'll hurt yourself carrying me."

Billy chuckles.

"I won't. I've carried marines heavier than you on my back in the desert for miles."

You feel his lips on your forehead, "I can carry my pretty wife for a couple of minutes."

You groan.

"But 'm too heavy." You try again.

"Who told you that, hmm?"

Dominic's face pops into your head and you sigh. Honestly, he'd never said it in so many words to you... but you knew... from the way he'd raise his eyebrows when he caught you with a piece of cake, or the way he'd get just a little too happy when you said you were going to the gym. You knew what he thought, even though he never had to say it.

"No one... it's just logic. I'm heavy."

"Well, if I can lift you, then you can't be that heavy now can you? So why don't you go back to sleep for me?" He murmurs softly, and though you try, you can't fight it.

.

"I love seeing your tattoo." You murmur against him.

He chuckles, cupping a handful of warm water to trickle over your shoulder in an attempt to help you bathe.

The snake in question moves as he does, you smooth a hand over the ink of the open maw on his chest.

Like you'd noticed before, the body of the snake covers two raised scars on his shoulder. You're of the opinion that the snake covers those scars on purpose.

"Will you tell me how you got them?" You ask, tracing a thumb over the scars, feeling him take a shaky breath.

"Got beaten pretty bad when I was a kid." He says in a breath and your heart freezes in your chest. You can tell that there's something worse coming.

"I grew up in a group home, wasn't bad, could have been worse I guess, but they used to let people come around to help out sometimes."

He scoops some more water over your shoulder, deep in thought. You don't want to break his focus, eager to hear him open up about his childhood.

"There was this one guy, he used to play stickball with us. I thought he was the coolest. Told me I could go pro if I kept practicing."

A lump rises in your throat when you realise where this story is going.

"He- well he tried to- " Billy stops, takes a deep breath, shakes his head.

"It's okay. You don't have to tell me." You say quietly, and he gives you a little smile.

"He called me pretty, he tried to touch me, I fought him off, he fought back, broke my arm... the end."

You frown at his quick retelling.

"So... he didn't-?"

"No... but I pissed him off enough."

"How old were you?"

"Ten?"

"Jesus, Billy." You press your head into the crook of his neck, your body against his in the bath, your heart breaking for him.

"He got away with it?"

"Our legal system is a joke."

Your shoulders drop.

"He's still out there?"

"No."

You raise your head curiously to look up at him.

He can't meet your eyes.

"I killed him." Billy confesses to you quietly, he's shaking, refusing to look at you.

It's a tense moment, and you don't think before you respond.

"Good."

He finally gives you a shocked look.

"You're not... disgusted?"

"That you killed someone who hurt you and probably other kids? Not at all."

"I murdered him, I put a stickball bat through his chest." Billy clarifies, in an attempt to show you how terrible he is. Or at least that's the impression you get.

"I hope he felt it." You say, resolved to idea.

Billy's eyes shift from shocked to something warm. He gives you another little smile.

"You mean that? You're not saying that now and running away later?"

The words are too much to say. You're afraid of them, of what it means. So instead, you raise your head, and you press your lips to his.

Soft, and the taste of his mouth sets you on fire. But you're content to just kiss him, chase away his insecurities with your reassurance. His hand moves from your hip to the back of your neck, holding you securely, little kisses broken between sighs and gentle smiles, until finally you relax against him once more.

"Is that why you got this here?" You ask, tracing his tattoo with gentle fingers.

Billy hums in confirmation.

"Snakes shed their skin all the time. They're symbols of transformation, rebirth... healing. They're misunderstood creatures, but can be deadly when underestimated."

Not unlike Billy himself, you think, and you wrap your arms around his shoulders, and you hope that he understands that you're not going to run, without having to say it.

.

"There's absolutely no way I am ever going to sleep with my employee." Abigail announces.

You swallow, listening to all the other girls react to her comment, butting in with 'what ifs' and other scenarios. You look down and stir your drink as you take it in.

You'd been friends with the witty group of girls since you shared a living space with them in college. There was Milla and Katie and Bryn, of course Abigail and you, made five.

Milla was dating Dominic's best friend, and it was in part one of the reasons you'd decided to come today, to find out if Nic had said anything to them. Billy hadn't accompanied you having some extra work to do, but he'd sent you with two bodyguards that had initially started out as five.

You kind of missed him, wondering what he was doing right now, and you imagined him typing away at his laptop at home, or reading a business report with a pair of glasses that he claimed to not need but it made him see the fine print just a little easier.

Loud laughter gets your attention and you smile, looking up. You wait for a casual break in the conversation to speak.

"So, I actually have some news." You say to them, and you freeze when all eyes swivel to you.

Oh shit, this was a lot.

"Yeah?" Bryn encourages when you've been silent for too long.

"I kind of did something... maybe a little stupid, but I'm kinda okay with it." You say, knowing that you were more than okay with it.

There's more silence as they wait for you to continue. At this point you were hoping for an interruption.

"After Dominic and I broke up... I went to Vegas, and I got drunk one night and uh...." You make an odd sound of distress, "I got married."

There's a moment of stunned silence, before everyone reacts all at once, above it all you hear Abigail's voice loudest.

"You got what!?" She screams.

You can't help laughing at their reactions.

"I kind of can't remember how it happened? But I woke up married." You say raising your hand to show then the ring.

"Oh my god I thought that was just a random ring- You're telling me that's a wedding ring?" Bryn says with a hysterical inflection in her voice.

You smile, nodding along at their reactions.

"You're getting it annulled?" Milla asks, and when you focus on her, you notice her features are calm, not as shocked as the others, and you think she might have known before.

"I'm not. I like him, he's nice, and we're... living together." You say just as Abigail takes a sip of her drink and she has to fight with spitting it out.

"Living with him?!" She says after she manages to swallow, "Who is he?"

You blink, pulling your bottom lip into your mouth to chew on it for a moment.

"His name is Billy Russo.... He uhh... he's Anvil's CEO."

It gets so quiet you can hear the conversations happening in the table across from you.

"You married Dominic's boss?"

"Well... no.... his boss' boss' boss... if we're being technical."

"Is he hot?"

"Very."

"And you waited until now to tell us?"

"I'm sorry?"

"Wait." Abigail interrupts, "How did Dominic react when he found out?"

You fiddle with your fingers under the table.

"I didn't get a chance to explain it to him. He thinks I cheated on him."

"He does think that." Milla says, grabbing everyone's attention. Her face is stern, commanding, she looks as though she's about to stand up for a friend, and you're of the realisation that the friend is not you.

"Dominic said you cheated on him, that you must have, because the rings are custom made to you. How do you explain that?"

Oh fuck.

"I- I'm not too sure-"

"-And his boss? Out of everyone to 'accidentally' marry? How convenient is that?"

"N-no- it-"

"-Dom thinks he introduced you to his boss, and you just worked your way to the top. Isn't that why you convinced him to stay with Anvil all those years ago?"

"That's not true at all." You say, your voice shaking with the stress.

You look around at Bryn, Abigail and Katie, but they're all giving you curious looks.

"It's not? What do you think about that, Dominic?" Milla says, looking behind you.

Ambush.

It's the first word that comes to mind and honesty if you were a smarter person you would have seen it coming.

"I think it's really convenient that she quit her job and started working at Anvil almost as soon as we broke up." Dominic says, grabbing a chair and fitting himself into the space between you and Katie.

Your shoulders drop.

"I didn't." You say weakly, looking at Dominic with sad eyes, "I never cheated. I wouldn't. I really liked you, and you broke up with me."

"Well you got over me really fast, then, didn't you?"

You bottom lip wobbles. You can see it in their eyes that no one believes you.

"Was that the point of this?" You turn to look at Milla, "Was that the reason you guys invited me here today?"

"We just wanted to expose a cheater."

"I didn't!" You try again, and she rolls her eyes at you.

You realise that there's nothing you're going to say that will make them believe you. You realise that you've just lost your friends.

You grab your things, shoving them into your bag, standing.

"I'm leaving." You say, dropping some bills down on the table to cover your drinks in afterthought. Dominic stands when you do, blocking your path.

"No you're not, we didn't even bring out the cake yet. Here it comes now."

Your heart is stuck in your throat, glued there with something that hardens into cement and makes everything hurt.

The waitress brings out a cake. An actual cake with white frosting and red lettering.

The words 'Congratulations, Cheater,' stares back at you.

You didn't think Dominic had this level of spite inside of him.

You back away from the table, but you flinch when Dominic reaches out to grab your wrist tightly.

"Woah, hey, let her go." Abigail says, getting to her feet, "She can leave if she wants."

At the same time, one of Billy's bodyguards notices the little commotion and steps forward to intervene, pushing Dominic away from you.

You back away, you don't look at anyone, avoiding all eye contact as you leave.

.

.

He finds you curled up on the couch of your office with one of his old t-shirts gripped in your hands.

You must not have locked the door, because he'd never violate the boundaries of your office otherwise, even though you knew he could if he wanted to.

"This is all your fault." You whisper out loud, not turning to look at him, pressing your nose into his shirt and breathing in the remnants of his scent.

Your statement wasn't completely true. It wasn't all his fault. It was also Dominic's, for breaking up with you and thinking he was entitled to embarrass you that way when you hadn't done anything he'd accused you of.

"I am, so, so sorry this happened." He says earnestly behind you, and you curl in further on yourself.

"Everyone thinks I'm a bad person." You say, a couple of hot tears slip from your eyes and trickle down the side of your face. You swallow the painful lump in your throat. Your face was swollen and aching from all the crying you'd done in the hour it took Billy to get here from wherever he'd been before.

"You're not a bad person." Billy says with conviction in his tone, leaning forward to press his nose into your hair.

You huff.

"Only you think that." You say to him, using his shirt to dab some of your tears.

His sigh tickles the back of your neck. It's one of frustration, you figure he must be out of his depth with this one and can't figure out what to do.

"Okay... let's get cleaned up and ready for bed, and you'll be a lot more comfortable there. I can get us ice cream, or we can watch something dumb on TV."

"Billy." You say with a tone that said that you just wanted to be left alone.

"No, I'm not leaving you here to mope. Come." he says, gripping your hips and forcing your body to uncurl and turn to face him.

When you catch sight of him you sit up in shock.

His face is dirty, covered in dirt and a splash of blood. There's the beginning of a bruise on his chin and cheek and he looks rough for wear.

"What happened?" You ask in shock, reaching out to cup his jaw, you feel him press his face into the palm of your hand. He's dressed in his tactical wear, but it's all scuffed and dirty.

"I was in the middle of a training sim when I heard what happened. I might have sped things up by running solo into enemy territory." He murmurs, peeking an eye open to look at your reaction.

"Isn't strategy the point of those sims? Else what's the point?"

"The point was that my wife was in distress and I wanted to get to her."

You can't help the involuntary clench your body does at his words. A bad time to be feeling like you want to jump him but that's all you can think about right now.

The tactical gear looks good on him, it holds onto him securely as he kneels beside the couch you're on.

"You have blood on your face." You say.

"Sorry." He mumbles and you shake your head, reaching for a clean corner of his shirt and using it to wipe away the splashes of blood on his cheek.

"I guess a shower would be okay." You say between sniffles and he smiles.

"Okay. Let's go."

.

You're not feeling your best, but even sad, you couldn't tear your eyes away from the sight of a dishevelled Billy, tugging his tactical shirt off. A white vest on underneath, his arms are covered in bruises, the back of his hands are bloody. You think you could moan from the sight alone.

He tugs a gun from the waistband of his pants, setting it down onto the bathroom countertop, before untucking his vest and pulling it off.

You thank the stars.

Rippling ink as he raises his arms above his head in an effort to stretch any kinks in his back. You blink in surprise when you hear a soft 'pop', followed by his groan of blissful satisfaction.

You stay silent, afraid to make a sound lest he stop the shedding of his clothes. Like a battered deity, he leans down to tug at the laces of his boots, kicking them off.

You want to help, you want to touch, to do something more than look, but you're fixated on him as if he's your favourite painting come to life.

You appreciate his beauty, still embedded in the depths of despair, you can only blink in surprise when he looks at you. For a moment, you'd forgotten you were real, but when he looks at you... he reminds you.

You don't hold his gaze for long, turning back to look at the shower, reaching to unbutton your pants.

It's only a means to avoid his gaze, because when he turns away from you to shed his pants, you turn back to look at him.

His thighs aren't thick, but shaped well for his body type, muscles flexing as he kicks them off.

You see his ass next, as his boxers follow down his legs, and your heart kicks up a beat as he turns confidently, doesn't say a word as he steps toward you.

He gives you a smile, opening the shower door and stepping in to turn on the controls.

You watch in awe as the rain showerhead starts up, scattering droplets down the planes of his body. The water runs a little red with blood, and a little brown from dirt before it clears.

When he looks back, you gulp.

"Coming?" He asks, and you reach for the edge of your top without a second thought.

.

.

Curled into him.

You let out a soft sigh of peace.

His hand is roaming over your back in slow circles. His skin is a little cold from your recent shower.

"Why me?" You finally say to him, your curiosity finally spilling out of your mouth. You think you're ready to hear the answer.

His hand pauses it's rhythmic motion on your back for a second, and only resume when you shift in discontent.

"Sure you wanna know?" He asks carefully.

"Yeah."

.

.

TWO YEARS AGO:

"There's really no vision here," Dominic says, his arm wrapped around your shoulders, guiding you away from the small office party happening on the top floor of the old Anvil Facility. It was more of a gym than a start-up company, catering to tactical training more than office jobs.

"You think so?" You say to him, wrinkling your nose as you wonder where Dominic was taking you. Were you going to see his desk?

"Yeah, this'll never work because we just don't have good enough contacts. Russo is a military man, he wasn't made for business." Nic says easily, and you hum, realising that you've wandered far enough from the party, your little lilac dress molded to your skin.

"I don't think that's true." You murmur to him, deep in thought, thinking about the man you'd just met.

"And what do you think you know about the company I work at?" Dominic says with a haughty tone and you try your hardest not to roll your eyes.

"I mean, the man you're describing, and the man I just met in there aren't the same person. You can see, that he clearly has the drive to succeed. I don't think you should give up on that. I mean sure, things aren't good now, but I think you'd benefit from sticking around so much more in the long run."

"Really?" He murmurs, and you can hear the indecisiveness in his voice and you know now's the best time to prove your point.

"A really basic example could just be the Christmas bonuses this year. He could have cut those in half safely and no one would have complained, he could have kept the money, or put it into getting word out through ads or whatever." You wave your hand in the air dismissively, "Instead he put it into the resource he found most important- the people. With a mindset like that, there's no way he'd struggle to get Anvil off the ground. You have to stop thinking in what's happening now, and think about what the company is capable of."

There's a moment of silence as he mulls over your words.

"That's a good point I guess, he also buys the best gear for the people on the field, instead of cheaping out."

You nod along to his words.

"Imagine the things the company is capable of. Don't you want to be a part of that?" You ask, deep in thought, just like he was, about the possibilities.

"Huh. Okay, I guess I'll stick around a little longer then." He says, kissing the top of your head and you laugh. Going with him wherever he wanted to go.

.

.

"I'd been just around the corner, stepped out to take a phone call or something and I heard you." His hand slides up your back and his fingers roll over the muscles at the behind your neck easily.

"You have no idea how that made me feel. It was like you knew me. Made me want to be a better man just to prove you right. You believed in me, and you'd barely met me."

You let out a long sigh, a hand on his bicep, moving up till you touch the tail of his snake tattoo.

"But, I'm sure a lot of people believe in you."

He laughs quietly.

"I think back then, everyone thought I was out of my depth, just waiting to watch me fuck up... and hearing you say those things was exactly what I needed. I wanted to become the man you thought I was capable of being."

The words shock you deeply, unwilling to admit that you could have such an effect on another person.

"So, you liked me since then?"

He hums.

"Not exactly then, when I got to learn about you more... yeah."

"How did you learn more about me?" You ask.

He's quiet for a moment. You raise your head to look up at him. He's got a pained frown on his face.

"I'm not a good man." He confesses to you quietly.

"I know, but you can tell me anyway." You reassure.

"I... cloned his phone, I'd read your messages to him."

You swallow anxiously.

"My private messages to my boyfriend." You clarify unnecessarily so that he gets the idea.

His eyes squeeze shut.

"Yeah, it wasn't a good moment, but I needed you so bad, and I knew he wasn't good enough, and I knew you'd realise that eventually, so I just sat back and waited. I didn't read every message, but once a week I'd check and make sure you were okay."

"Oh, Billy." You say with a sigh, leaning forward to press your body closer to his. He presses against you eagerly.

It's not something you hadn't already expected. In your assessment of possible scenarios, you knew someone as powerful as he was would find no trouble in getting access to things he shouldn't have access to.

You didn't know what the right way to react was. You knew it was a red flag, a borderline scary and toxic trait exhibited by a man that had coerced you into marriage. But you also knew him. For all his flaws he'd never lied to you.

"Why don't you hate me?" He whispers under his breath, and you don't think he meant to say it out loud.

You respond anyway, not because you want to reassure him, but because you feel like returning his truth with some of your own.

"I don't want to." You say simply.

He pulls you even closer, your face pressed into his shoulder as he holds you tight. You spend a long time like that, locked in his arms, half asleep.

When he tilts your head up to give you what you assume is a chaste goodnight kiss, you find that your body heats up, instead of relaxing.

Your toes curl as you slant your lips against his, unable to stop yourself from delivering passionate kisses. He lets out a little groan, hand smoothing down your body easily and back up again. You sit up, pushing him onto his back before kicking a leg over his hips.

It's only then that you break the kiss.

"Are you sure?" He asks, before you can voice a similar question to him.

"I want to. Do you?"

He studies you for a moment, dark eyes, deep in thought.

"Yeah." He says with a nod, you smile, mimicking his nod as you bend to reach his mouth again.

He's hard between your thighs, hot and insistent against the little fabric of your underwear.

When he brings his hands up to your hips, you react without thinking, grabbing his wrists and pinning them to either side of his head.

He blinks up at you in surprise.

He can obviously overpower you at any moment, but instead he pauses to see what you're going to do.

"Do you trust me?" You ask quietly.

He runs his tongue over his bottom lip, in deep concentration, before giving you a little nod.

"Close your eyes." You instruct, and he does so after a little moment.

When you pull away from him, he sits up.

"Where-"

"-shhhh, trust me." You interrupt, and you leave the room for a minute to gather supplies.

You grab all the little candles you can find, placing them around the room and lighting them one by one.

You have a odd want to make this one special, and you take your time, shedding your clothes and grabbing one of his white shirts from his closet, draping it over your body and leaving a small gap open between your breasts.

You dim all the lights, admiring the way he waits patiently, the only sign of his anxiety is the way his fingers twitch at his sides.

He definitely had a reason to be anxious. He'd put a lot of trust into you by closing his eyes. After the scary revelation from earlier, you could bet he was probably expecting you to run away.

"Take your boxers off for me." You finally say, and he lets out a breath, pushing the black fabric off his body.

Gorgeous.

Every inch of him.

His knuckles are still red from their earlier use, and he's got some bruises worsening on his chest and one on his thigh but none of it takes away from him. The light of the candles dances shadows onto his skin and you marvel at how easy his beauty can make you forget about everything else.

You admire the snake on his shoulder, with its winding visage, before giving him permission to open his eyes.

You're hoping you look just as breathtaking as he does, wearing his shirt in the light of the flickering candles, you really pray that he finds you nice to look at.

His lips part, taking you in, you can't help looking away from him for a second.

"You are... so beautiful." He says, voice barely above a whisper, and your heats flutters, a shy smile forming on your face.

"Thank you." You say, moving toward him, bringing yourself to sit carefully on his lap. When he raises his hands to touch you, you catch them, pressing them back to his sides.

You lean forward, and when he shuts his eyes, thinking you're going to kiss him, you deflect, kissing his shoulder instead. You kiss from one shoulder to the next, listening to his shallow breathing, bringing your hips closer until his cock is nestled between your thighs.

"You're tormenting me." He says matter-of-factly, and you smile against the column of his neck.

"And don't you think you deserve it, even just a little?"

An exasperated sigh.

"I deserve it," Billy acknowledges, "Is that what you're gonna do now? Punish me?"

You feel the way his cock jumps after he says it, you know he likes the idea.

"Mmm," you hum, continuing to kiss his neck, "I like the idea, but I've never done it before."

"That's okay, just do what you feel like, if you feel like stopping, I'll take over."

"How considerate." You say, just before you bite down on his sweet spot.

He lets out a loud groan, his body tensing, before it relaxes. You lick the bite gently to soothe it.

"Too much?" You ask carefully.

"More. Please."

Your breath stutters in your throat. You feel your body flush with approval for his words.

There's a spot that clenches inside you- right below your navel- a spot that flutters when you think about being filled with his come.

You bite him again, toes curling in response to the blissful sounds he makes.

You watch his skin redden, you know they'll fade after a while, but you can't help admiring the beauty of marking him.

You want his tongue, but you're too shy to actually say it, instead, opting to climb off of him, ignoring his sounds of protest to make your way up the bed to settle against the pillows.

He turns to look at you, his shirt widening to expose your breasts.

Carefully, you part your thighs and watch his throat bob as his eyes drift down to your aching cunt.

You reach to slip a finger between your legs and he moves without command, settling his body between your thighs, stopping your hand from touching yourself.

"I'll do it." He offers, kissing the wedding band on your finger, before adjusting himself to flatten his tongue against your clit.

You let out a gasp of surprise, your head falling back in bliss.

He keeps his tongue in place for a few moments, prompting you to raise your head and look at him.

His eyes are on you, as he begins sweeping his tongue from side to side slowly. It feels so good, as Billy sets the perfect rhythm in the place you need it most.

Your pussy makes a series of clenches, desperate for more of his tongue, and a shiver goes through you as he continues.

He reaches up, warm hands gliding over your thighs, bruised knuckles gripping at your hips for a moment before grabbing your hands that are fisted in the sheets and bringing them to sift through his hair.

He groans when you pull, pressing deeper into the space between your thighs until there's no air left between his mouth and your pussy. The tip of his tongue rolls over your clit, up and down, and then side to side, until he finally settles on a slow circular motion.

Your hips buck into his mouth, you press his head as close as possible for a moment before feeling a little guilty and releasing your grip on his head.

"Sorry." You murmur, which prompts him to stop, shaking his head as he speaks.

"Don't be. I love your little cunt so fucking much." He praises.

You make a sound of approval as he drops his head again.

He licks you repeatedly, his tongue applying just the right pressure to your clit that makes you boneless. You squeeze your eyes shut, trying to process the undeniable pleasure rolling through your body. His beard scratches harmlessly between your thighs, your skin tingling from the gentle sensation that only helps to work you up.

The sounds are sloppy and wet, the eagerness of his movements make you want to own him in any way you can.

"Billy oh god yes." You cry, can't stop yourself from singing his praises.

He moans against you, you can feel his tongue drift lower to lick over your entrance.

You gasp at the sensation, wanting to feel his tongue explore you.

He pushes his tongue in as far as it will go, no doubt getting the most undiluted taste of you, humming while he does it.

His tongue is dextrous, just like it always is, with passionate movements that show you his eagerness. To drink you in like a man starving, to make you feel like his current position was the most desirable on the planet.

His grips on your hips tighten, and when it's not enough you can feel him press his face even closer. You worry he might be drowning in you. But he doesn't seem too concerned about it.

You say his name again. It only encourages him to take what he likes from you until your thighs are shaking and your clit is begging for just one more kiss.

Your brain scrambles when he does it. You make the most unintelligent sound as your body tenses up, locking in place for just a moment right before you fall over that edge and into him.

That spot below your navel flutters again, begging for him as he pulls away from you.

You're still catching your breath, his shirt is warm on your skin and you sit up to push it from your shoulders.

You grab his arm, pulling him over to you and lying back until his body covers yours. Your grip is firm on the back of his neck as you guide his mouth to yours.

You both moan into the kiss, starting slowly before the build of emotion is just too much for you to resist kissing him hard.

He kisses over your jaw and neck, giving you a moment to breathe before his lips are on your again.

He slots his thigh between your legs and you press your dripping centre against it shamelessly, happy to feel some relief.

You know you should wait a little longer and get more prep work done but you can't. You can't fight the fire burning inside you to take him.

He falls onto his back easily when you break the kiss to give him a hard shove.

He smiles, gripping your hips as you straddle him.

"If this is a punishment then I should do bad things more often," Billy teases.

You playfully smack his hip and he lets out a groan. You watch his face redden substantially and he looks away from you for a second.

Does he like it when you hit him?

You table the conversation for later as you adjust your hips and reach for his erection.

Sliding onto his cock isn't easy, and you have to take several deep breaths throughout, groaning at the little pinch of pain, as he fills every inch of you.

"So good Billy, fuck." You sigh, he nods mindlessly in agreement.

You start slow, rocking your hips against his, his hands on your hips grip so tightly that he leaves and indent of his ring behind on your skin- as if you needed another reminder that you're his.

You hiss, increasing the pace of your rocking, the muscles in your thighs burn from overuse.

You remember how he told you that he liked it when you ride him, and you decide to make things more difficult for him.

You grab his wrists, pinning them beside him as you lean down to kiss him.

Billy gasps, his breath his hot in your mouth and when you pause your hips to catch your breath, he groans loudly.

"Hit me." He asks quietly, looking up at you with half-lidded eyes.

Your breath catches in your throat.

"You- Are you sure?" You ask easily.

He swallows, nodding, and when you give him a gentle tap on the cheek, his laugh is filled with delirium.

"No baby, harder."

You bite down on your lip, doing as he says.

He groans, pushing his hips up into you. You gasp in surprise, feeling him fuck into you easily from below, your hips moving together in harmony.

"Hit me again, please." He begs and you can't resist him.

It's a proper slap, and his face gets turned to the side. His cheek is red but all he can do is groan loudly and fuck upwards into you.

You're a little surprised at his reaction, and he gives you a heated look before he grips your wrists, sitting up so that he's face to face with you.

He grips both your wrists in one hand and smiles, leaning in to kiss you before he's sucking a mark into your collarbone.

You groan his name and his pace increases.

"You feel so fucking good. I don't think I'm gonna last." He says desperately and you nod your head easily.

"It's okay, I'm close too. You can cum when you're ready."

He groans. His hips hammering up into yours, cock fully fucking you hard like there'll never be another time.

"I'm sorry I did all those things. I just wanted to be yours." He says in between breaths.

"Shhh Billy, we can talk about it later, I'm so close." You reply, too cock drunk to keep your head up so you tuck it into the crook of his neck.

You pull your hands from his grip behind your back, digging them into his biceps as you let out little whines, close to orgasm.

"Yours." Billy breathes, "I'm all yours."

You clench down around him hard, gasping as your orgasm hits, he holds you down on his cock as you trigger his orgasm too. You cling to him like a lifeline as you come down, you stay with your face buried in his chest, exhaustion from the entire day finally catching up to you.

"You mean that?" You ask, half asleep, sighing as you listen to him catch his breath.

His hand is on the back of your head, keeping you close.

"Every word." He confirms.

Falling asleep in his arms is easy after that.

.

.

.

A/N: yeah so I'll correct any mistakes I made later 💓

[stupid-sloot-headcanons]

Cicero doing his usual "check-ins" on The Listener while getting ready to sleep at their room in the Sanctuary, only to hear some odd sounds coming from their room. He's got his knife in hand and he's ready to strike when he looks inside and sees...Oh. The Listener's naked! And the hand covering their mouth to muffle their cries is their own, and their other hand...Oh, Listener! Cicero never imagined the glorious, sacred Listener would be so...well, naughty.

Cicero never really bothered touching himself, since his personal needs/desires were less important than the Night Mother (aka, the only body he regularly worships--not his own lol). Besides, he got a special kind of bliss and release from killing anyway. Still, the Listener makes it look very fun. How can such a talented killer look so vulnerable and soft and exposed like this?

Cicero stares in wonder/excitement/amusement while the Listener touches themselves. He's giggling quietly, muttering to himself and feeling the same kind of "excitement" he gets while carrying out a kill. ("Listener, oooh Listener! Cicero caught you being naughtyyyy. And in the Sanctuary, too! What if Mother wants to speak to you while you're having your bit of fun? Whatever they're imagining behind those closed eyes/ it's making them blush and their hips start to rise~~~")

Truth be told, he's wanted to find a way to praise the Listener similar to how he cares for the Night Mother. After all, the Listener has a part of her inside their soul. Instead of fresh flowers and preventing any mold from growing in the coffin, Cicero can worship the Listener's body...well, like this! They don't need to do it themselves anymore--Humble Cicero lives to serve, after all.

The Listener already has had to deal with him doing their laundry, watching them sleep, maintaining their weapons, and even bathing them himself on occasion, so they really shouldn't be surprised when he bursts into the room and declares that he wants to "tend to their needs" and won't take no for an answer here either. He'll spread their legs further and insist on making the Listener cum; the Listener is too precious to feel the embrace of the Void yet, but the least Cicero can do is give them another kind of bliss!

He has no experience at all but he's a very curious and dedicated learner. Ooh, he can taste the Listener without biting into their skin, and they taste...quite nice! The little bud they were playing with down there is so soft, and the Listener seems to like how it feels whenever Cicero laughs while his lips are latched to it. His fingers can disappear all they way inside of them, and they're so warm on the inside. The only embrace he's ever felt was the cold, clammy embrace of the Night Mother whenever he tended to her bones; but The Listener is the exact opposite.

He's incredibly awkward and creepy without meaning to be, and way too earnest about this entirely new experience. He'll stare down at them with wide manic eyes to gauge their reaction to what he's doing, mutter the weirdest shit ("I hope Mother sees just how well Cicero's taking care of her, OUR dear Listener...") like how he wants to take some of the extra flowers he'd picked for the Night Mother and put them INSIDE the Listener ("Cicero's making you bloom, just like a bouquet of pretty Nightshade flowers! You'd look even lovelier with some of them all over the bed, covering you, maybe one inside here too...hm. Then again, they ARE poisonous...does it still make someone sick if they don't eat it with their mouth?")

Since it's a sacred ritual to him now, he'll make little prayers to Sithis and the Night Mother while worshipping them too. And when/if the Listener finally manages to cum, Cicero is SO happy! He's clapping and cheering and dancing over just how well he did, and he insists on staying the rest of the night at the Listener's side to guard them as they sleep. Watching them sleep is something he usually does anyway, but doing it after fucking them is definitely a new spin on it.

As much as he loves tending the Night Mother's body, he finds he also enjoys this new "duty" (that isn't really a duty and the Listener actively says they don't want him to do, but they just let him do it since he's so insistent) a lot too. He feels like he gets to become one with the Listener for a while when he's inside them like this, and unlike the Night Mother, he can see and feel and hear and taste just how much the Listener appreciates his dedication.

The Listener knows that Cicero is VERY hard to dissuade when he gets like this, especially regarding how he wants to treat them and the Night Mother. If he wants to worship them like this, it's just easier to let him do it. Besides, knowing him he'd just try again while they slept or he'd paralyze them with a potion so he can do his "sacred duty" to them. They're supposed to be close on a whole other level, after all! He's the Keeper, and they're the Listener. And in addition to the Night Mother, he wants to be THEIR Keeper now too. Obviously the Night Mother takes first priority, but they're an extension of her will and power. So he'll "keep" them as well, even if they don't want it.

[barbiewritesstuff]

Saviour

-- I really hesitated with whom I should write this. I was thinking either Hangman or Rooster because I can imagine them just going mental about the situation. So if you want me to write this for Rooster too, do tell me 

Tw for physical abuse and domestic abuse, as well as pregnancy. --

Penny had hired you two years ago and had congratulated herself on that decision every day since. You were never late, always cheerful, polite, and you could handle yourself with cheeky customers. She loved your personality and how you never complained but she had to admit she was starting to get worried. 

You had shown up with bruises, cuts and burns on various body parts for weeks now. At first she believed your excuses "I fell", "I burned myself on a pan" or "I can be so clumsy sometimes" but after a while she had started to realise you'd come to work earlier, leave later and you would get quieter when some of the pilots got loud.  You flinched once when she reached for one of the mugs above the bar and it broke her heart. 

Her mother had been like that during her marriage with her father and while Penny had vowed she'd never let herself or Amelia become like that, the distance between her family and her had left her less able to see the signs. Now that she could, she wanted to help. It wouldn't be easy, Penny could remember how her mother reacted when she and her siblings had asked their mother to leave her husband. Their mother had shut down and gotten angry "How dare you! How dare you suggest such a thing" had been screamed for hours. But then again, Penny's mother had gotten married at 18 and had three children by her 21st birthday, she'd never worked or finished school. If only she'd known more about her waitress. Penny kicked herself now for not asking more questions. She didn't know how long you'd been in a relationship. Or even if you were in a relationship, Penny realised with horror, maybe it was a parent.

So, she started small by leaving leaflets to women's shelters just about anywhere and hanging anti-domestic abuse posters in the bathrooms but you didn't acknowledge them.

You were Hangman's favourite waitress. You were cute, funny and kind and you didn't mind his flirting. Although when he went too far, you didn't hesitate to remind him that you had a boyfriend. Somewhere in his brain, loyal and faithful had been added to your description.

"Bourbon please, sweetheart" he ordered. 

It was visible for less than a second but Jake recognised the small circular cigarette butt burns on the inside of your arm when you poured his glass. 

He remembered those. His pa used to push his cigarette ends into his skin when he was drunk until Jake had left for college. He remembered the pain and his pa's barking laughter. And he remembered his ma standing in the kitchen unable or unwilling to say anything. He didn't blame her. He knew she'd get much worse if she said anything, considering how much she got when she stayed quiet.

He grabbed the glass with shaky fingers and drank to steady himself. Jake looked you over from top to bottom trying to see if this was the only thing being done to you. 

"Jake, what are you looking at?" She asked in that honey-like voice of hers. 

"What, do I need a license to look at a pretty girl?" He shot back, his southern accent thick when he flirted.

"I have a boyfriend, Jake, you know that."

"You two serious?"

"Don't push your luck." She was stern now, her brows furrowed. His smile faltered

"I'm sorry. I was serious, though, you've never told me about him"

"We're serious" She smiled "We live together"

"Is he nice?" He watched her face. She hesitated for a second but played it off as being concentrated on cleaning off a stain on a glass

"He's real nice, Jake, he gets me flowers and everything" 

He didn't doubt it. After the beatings, the cigarette burns and hair pulling, his pa was always a real charmer. He used to get toys, extra cartoons and once he even got a bike. He guessed it came from a knowledge that his pa had done something bad and needed to be forgiven. He wished he'd never accepted the toys, though, as he'd get that thrown in his face if he didn't answer one of his pa's phone calls.

Fighting through nausea, you walked up to the bar. The smell of coffee and beer had become almost unbearable to smell. 

Soon enough you'd have to tell Penny. The growing bump wouldn't stay hidden underneath sweaters and loose fitting shirts for long. But you could guess how she would react, you knew she was leaving those pamphlets and posters for you to find. You appreciated it, really but leaving was so much more complicated than just packing bags and leaving for the shelter. 

You had no money, no personal bank account, you had no car and since moving in with your boyfriend seven years ago, no house. And now, you were pregnant too.

Squirrelling money inside a tin of coffee grounds was taking much more time than you had guessed and horrifyingly, you had found some missing recently. The realisation that he knew was worse than anything, especially when he didn't even acknowledge it. 

He was terrorising you in subtle ways that no one but you would recognise, like leaving out dog adoption papers for a dobermann after telling you about an incident in which one had attacked a newborn. He had told you with such a glint in his eyes too. 

You were so afraid of being home that your subconscious was trying to find ways for you to stay at work. You had helped Penny lock down after closing every day for three weeks despite being on the early shift. 

You took over from another waitress who had been fighting the Friday night crowds for hours now, since on Fridays the bar opened early. She looked exhausted.

"Good luck" she whispered to you in passing. You wouldn't need it. The crowds calmed down by 9pm and you were able to take a small break. The evening air was crisp and cool, it woke you up. Standing on the porch overlooking the ocean, you rested one hand on your belly.

Hangman had looked outside just in time to see you rubbing your lower belly and his heart sank. 

He knew what it meant. His ma had been pregnant eight times while he was at home and three more since he'd left. She'd always liked to rub her bump, saying that it made her feel closer to her little baby. 

He stood up and walked outside.

"I know you said he was nice, but if he ever isn't, you should have this." He told you, handing you a napkin with his number scribbled on it.

"Jake, what the fuck?!" 

"I don't mean it like that. I mean, if he ever treats you badly, and you need to get out, I will help." 

You'd only known him for a small amount of time, but you knew Jake was never usually serious. Seeing him like that, without his charming smile and cheeky eyes made you feel uneasy. You wanted so badly to defend your boyfriend. To say he'd gotten it wrong, and how dare he say things like that, but you couldn't find it in you to lie.

You took the napkin and went back inside. 

He had told you he would be going out to drink with buddies, and he hadn't lied. But seeing him here at the Hard Deck was making you nauseous. This was your safe place, your brief reprieve from the hell you were trying to escape from at home.

"I'm going to need three beers, baby" he ordered, and then, when you didn't do it correctly, he grabbed your wrist and squeezed until you looked him in the eyes when you said "of course".

This had gone completely unnoticed by the people surrounding you but Jake hadn't stopped looking at you since he'd seen the burns. He was trying to keep you safe. 

He felt so protective over you, like with his ma. The only difference was that he figured he'd get to you before it was too late.

Still, realising that making a move now would only make it worse for you later, he stayed seated.

You weren't sure why he was punishing you now, but then again, he didn't usually need a reason. 

Your head hurts. He had pushed you against the wall at home, his fist grabbing a thick fistful of hair close to the root and using that to apply pressure until you cried. He didn't let you go, instead he dragged you to the living room and kicked your legs from underneath you. He punched you in the face and back and left you shaking on the floor with a broken nose and a growing black eye.

"I will finish with you" He spat on her "Tomorrow" 

He left her to stumble upstairs to sleep off the beers he had consumed. You eventually got up and began to tidy the mess he had made during the day. You cleaned the dishes, started a cycle on the washing machine and removed papers from the kitchen table to clean it. A small receipt fluttered onto the floor.

You bent down and your heart stopped. The receipt was for a gun and some ammunition. 

It was late and Hangman had been sleeping for an hour when his phone rang with an unknown number displayed on the screen. He picked it up. Your voice roused him from his sleepy state due to the panic he could hear in it. 

"He bought a gun." 

Feeling a horrible sense of déjà vu at what would happen if she stayed, Jake ran to his car. He was at the corner of her street in less than twenty minutes after a journey that should have taken him forty. 

You looked bad, bloody and beaten but the ice pack he had thought to bring helped. Jake had offered to drive the three hours to your parents' home and even though you knew trusting a man you had not spoken with beyond a few sentences and jokes was a bad idea, it was the only option, so you let him. 

He was a good driver and after an hour on the road you felt safe enough to fall asleep. When you woke up again, you were in your childhood bedroom. Coming down the stairs you saw Jake on your parents' beaten up sofa, cuddled up with their dog.

"I was waiting to tell you goodbye" He said once he noticed her "Please say thanks to your parents for letting me crash here. It was very nice of them" 

You grabbed his face in your hands and pressed a kiss on his lips. You could feel him smiling. He pulled you into a hug.

"Thank you" you whispered

[itsonlyvegas]

Fang brainrot so real so true.

Fang would really have issues with someone taller than him only because he'd blush like crazy. Like... he'd be so dumbfounded when the new builder is actually taller and prettier than he imagined. It's like meeting your crush in real life. (He'd been crushing on the builder from their gifts, as embarrassing as that is).

He would be like: "Oh. Oh wow. Um. Hi." And his bird would literally out him so fast. But since you're the dense builder whom everyone loves, you don't notice his blush. He would probably make up a lame excuse to go to his bedroom. (And his bird would just be like "lol he likes you, he likes you.") And THAT would send you blushing as well. I mean... Fang blushing? Rare. Super rare. More rare than Andy behaving.

Well and then when you guys first kiss, he's actually really confident, but when he sees your blush, he'd blush himself and have issues speaking EVEN MORE. But he'd literally tell himself "im a man im a man" and he'd kiss you again. He'd kiss you more than you'd expect. He's like... a little thirsty for attention. I feel like he's a very touchy feely person. He probably hugs a lot. (If you like that kind of stuff). He'd be the one to hold your hand. And if you guys get together, he'd want to hold you at night and hug you.

He'd also love when you stroke his hair. He's such a fluffball. He needs cuddles. But he can't admit that to you.

But yes, if you were taller, he'd be so happy. He wouldn't need to bend down anymore to kiss you. You're perfect.

If you were shorter, he'd love it because he could tease you gently. He'd literally make fun of you for being so short, but also kiss your cheeks. (Like, imagine him carrying you around the house because you're too short for the counter and the stove lol) He'd also be able to easily cuddle you.

But I also feel like he would try to make you wear his clothes. Like he'd be so proud to show off that you're his and he's yours.

If you guys ever fight, he'd be very emotional. He'd pout and you'd pout and when you're alone, he'd just burst into tears and then hug you. "I'm sorry." And you'd both apologize. He wouldn't let go of you after that.

I feel like he'd be a really great father. I feel like he'd spoil his children a lot. But he'd also be very protective. He'd do anything for his kids.

And if you had a daughter, he'd be a little overprotective. Like if you named her after his mother Sarnai, he'd be very protective. (And also cry a lot because he feels very emotional). He'd be like: "Hey. No one will take my daughter from me. I will protect her." But if you had a son, he'd be like "no one will take my son away from me!" Like, he's literally the dad that's like "NO ONE WILL TAKE MY KIDS. DONT EVEN THINK ABOUT IT."

He'd be a very playful dad. Like he'd make silly faces with the kids and make them laugh. He'd tell them stories. He'd also be the dad who would let them get away with everything. He'd be like "well, my kids are perfect, they would never do anything bad. They're just like me."

He'd probably spoil his kids so much like ok in getting off track. Anyway. NSFW time.

●■NSFW■●

Fang is not a dominant man. I feel like he'd be a switch, but mostly a submissive one. Like he'd love when you took control of him and he'd be really good at obeying your orders. He'd love when you were rough with him and he'd blush when you teased him.

He'd also love when you were gentle with him and praised him. He'd be so happy when you said he was good and called him a good boy.

He'd be so happy when you gave him compliments. He'd always blush when you said he was cute or pretty or handsome or gorgeous.

He'd be very flustered when you kissed his neck and his chest and even tweaked a nipple. He'd be a little embarrassed about how much he liked it though. (You'd have to reassure him that it was totally okay).

He'd be really embarrassed if you told him you liked his body. He never thought about someone actually liking him for his looks but when you started to touch him gently, he'd relax and melt. He'd start to relax and enjoy it more.

He'd be very flustered when you told him you were going to sit on him and ride. He'd be so embarrassed. He'd be so red. But he'd be very turned on. He'd be really embarrassed to admit it.

I feel like he'd really love to kiss you. He'd be very gentle and he'd hold you tight. And when you deepen the kiss, he'd be really shy and try to pull away but he'd give in and enjoy it.

He'd really love it when you played with his hair. It's so long and fluffy and omg it's silky and soft.

And when you guys first have sex, he'd be so gentle and loving. He'd make sure you were okay and he'd be so worried he hurt you. He's the one entering you and if you had a clit, he'd be really gentle when fingering you.

He'd be really flustered when you told him he felt good. He wouldn't know what to do with himself. He'd be so embarrassed to tell you that you felt good as well.

And after he comes, he'd be really worried about you. Like "I'm sorry.... I came... so fast." And you'd reassure him that it was okay like it happens especially since he's a virgin.

Yeah idk i think fang is neat.

[sircesimblr]

Stam: Am I? Already bubbling with love for her? Haha, I guess I am. I do. When I look in the mirror, I can see her face right next to mine. I feel I can ask her things, I feel I want to listen to her, even when I've just woken up. She feels familiar. And I also think I may have seen her before, when she was in the bistro with her friend. You know, the singer from the band.

Manon: She has a friend in a band? Like, a troubadour-friend? My goodness. Rachel, dear, dear Rachel, please be careful. Don't mingle with such people until you've got your husband. These kind of things can reflect badly upon your pure self.

Stam: Don't worry. It is a really great band. Having such a friend cannot harm Rachel's virtue, haha, if that's what your concerned about. But please, let's talk about me. Tell Rachel something nice. Why am I the most rounded package she can get? Haha. Not fishing for compliments or anything.

Klaus-Ove: Obviously.

Manon: Where do I begin? First of all, Miss Rachel, this man might be a prince! His fair Northern mother, a hardworking nurse, met a tall and dark stranger in Al Simhara, who never revealed his name. I mean, look at Mr. Hardenes: that must have been a prince!

Stam: Let's not talk about the guy who knocked my mother up. He could just as well have been a troubadour, Miss de La Haye. I've never met him.

Manon: Oh? Yes, you've been raised by your dear mother alone, but surely you must feel, a certain kind of nobility... in your veins...

Stam: Nope.

Manon: But your looks!

Stam: Ah. My looks. I don't really care about that. Neither does Rachel I'm sure. I'm proud I have my mum's eyes and I'm proud I am strong and never ill, so I can pursue my dreams and be a good son to my beloved mother. She's my everything.

Manon: You don't care about it, yet you look in the mirror long enough to imagine your dream wife's face beside your own.

Stam: I practise my charisma skills.

Manon: I'm sure you do. Early in the morning. Right out of bed. I'm sure you practise your athletic skills too, not to build those fine muscles I notice beneath your far too gaudy shirt, but to...

Stam: Do you have any idea how hard the work of a chef is? If you don't keep your body in shape, you'll simply perish preparing meals. You won't make it a single night. Besides, I told you, I don't care about looks. All I aspire my body to be in the future, is soft and chubby, so my kids can use me as a teddybear or a trampoline, or a doormat, for all I care. I want to be the greatest dad in the world. I want to be the dad I never had. I want to be the dad that should have supported my mother every step of the way.

Manon: Goodness me, I knew you wanted a family. But this... So, one really has to read between the lines, with your person. And all these jobs you have, the whole rigmarole, besides being, simply put, gorgeous, all that is not to get ahead of others, nor to behave like a gentleman should, it is...

Stam: I'm just skilling up for the future I want. Making a name while I'm still single. But when I've found my love, and my home becomes a reality, and I hold my first baby in my arms, all falls second to that. And then I will be prepared. I will be so prepared. It will be nothing but happiness.

Manon: Oh, all the heavens above me. An airmonger.

Klaus-Ove and Orbin: Wow, man.

Stam: I thought you'd seen all that in me, Miss, when you said I was the total package for Rachel.

Manon: Oh, sweetheart... And you cared for your mother, when she had what you call a "burn out", when you were young? Twice?

Stam: I did. Why?

Manon: No... nothing. Just another thing Rachel needs to know. Something about an apple and a tree. Never mind. Let's... let's proceed and present the last of you. Mister Klaus-Ove Larsen, please come up here, you carefree looking pup.

Stam: I won't get to address Rachel myself, like Orbin did?

Manon: Well..., you can still try. We surely have another minute, haven't we, gentlemen? There, go ahead, Mr. Hardenes.

Stam: Okay. So here it is, dear Rachel. My dear Rachel. I've only seen you once or twice, yet you are already on my mind, like constantly. You intrigue me, you calm me down, I feel things. Possibilities of a future together. I could be that guy you describe. I could stay in with you, for a lifetime I guess. But I'd also like to take you out, to see people, to go for a delicious dinner, or to soak up art at a gallery. And maybe, someday to take you to the country half of me comes from. All preferably with our little one in a carrier on my back... Am I going too fast? I probably am. I don't want to scare you. I'll probably be quiet and in awe when we finally meet. And I can be funny too. Just contact me. I'll make sure it'll be worth your time.

Manon: Thank you, Mr. Hardenes. And now, sweet, dear Rachel, you know what they say: last may be best! Here is Mr. Klaus-Ove Larsen, the youngest of these gentlemen, someone who might sweep you off your feet in a swirl of magnificent creativity.

(prev)

[unabashedly-so]

⚜️ SDV Elliott HC ⚜️

Elliott's family...

Content warning: One-off mentions of homophobic/biphobic microaggressions, alcohol, abusive parents, child favoritism.

I came up with a short story that keeps getting longer about Elliott bringing his partner back to meet his parents (not necessarily by his choice) and confronting a lot of what he'd left behind. The refrain is "To be loved is to be changed," and also part of the resolution is Elliott and his partner totally have nasty revenge sex in his parent's old money country club.

Y'know, therapeutically.

Laurel - 36yo (older sister) - currently a lawyer/attorney in a large city not far from home. She's a very serious person, but not to the point of sternness or coldness. In contrast, she's actually very warm, especially to her siblings, but she's kindly ruthless in her pursuit of what she feels she should pursue. She and Elliott grew up rather close and Elliott idolized her a lot of his childhood, preferring her company over the company of other boys/kids because he felt he could be unabashedly himself around her. She still calls Elliott "Ellie" "Lelly" "Lellit" (Elliott as a toddler would say his name like "Lellit" because all his siblings names started with L so he thought his did too.)

...So anyway here's Elliott's family made for a story that I'll probably never actually get around to writing. "Spoilers" for the story and character growth are in the parentheses at the end for his parents. Also, no they don't have last names because that feels weird.

Loren - 34yo (older brother) - currently a stocks trader or something, but it's not his passion. He mainly does it to make money so he can indulge in his hobbies--traveling, and collecting calculators and typewriters. He has taken Elliott on some of his travels but he's a bit distant emotionally, very much someone who gets lost in his own head, but unlike Elliott, he doesn't really care to share it with others. There are moments of good connection between him and Elliott, but it's a lot of work to get those moments, so Elliott stopped trying to force it. As a kid, Loren was a typically older brother to him and antagonized him appropriately. Elliott was appropriately a younger brother to him when he wasn't dangling off of Laurel. As older siblings, they did share some commonalities that they bonded on, like sharing books, and he was a good listener for Elliott's story ideas.

Elliott - 32yo - as the middle child with two very successful older siblings, Elliott is often overlooked by his parents. There's no incredible pressure for him to be wealthy or successful, but that doesn't mean they aren't disappointed nonetheless. As a child, he was imaginative, creative, and loved to be the center of attention when he had a good story to tell. Otherwise, he was rather quiet. His mother likes to joke that Elliott was the "baby" of the family for 8 years and he's never once forgotten it, saying that he needs more coddling than most, as he was always so attached to his older sister, Laurel.

Samuel - 24yo (younger brother) - very much The Accident. Susannah tells everyone he dropped out of medical school to go practice field medicine in war torn Gotoro. In actuality, he's currently living off the family's fortunes (and Loren's kindness) "finding himself". Elliott's relationship with Samuel is a bit distant, mainly due to the age gap. Elliott is fond of his youngest brother and has fond memories with him, but it was always tainted by a perceptible difference with how he was treated vs. Elliott and the rest of the kids.

Susannah - mother - Motherly but outsourced much of the emotional work to servants. She does care for her children and wants the best for them, but like her husband, very much thinks that they can only be happy in the ways that she comes up for them. Her main style of communication is through double-entendres and snide, passive aggressive remarks. ie, if Elliott brings home a wife, she'll remark, "Oh Elliott, I knew you'd find the right girl to fix you right up!" (talking about his bi/gayness) Laurel followed Susannah's hopes for her, so Laurel is the golden child in her mind. Loren does well for himself and doesn't cause any trouble so he's another good egg. Elliott... well, she doesn't quite understand the path he's chosen. She thinks he's too in-his-own-head for his own good. She tells him to be more like Loren all the time directly, and indirectly reveres Laurel to him. (It's revealed that Killian barely supported her in her raising the kids, which was why she outsourced so much of their raising, because she couldn't handle it on her own and knew it wouldn't be good enough. She also comes around to accepting she doesn't understand Elliott's path in life AND that that's okay as long as he's happy and taken care of. She also says that she and Sir Killian have been seeing a marriage counselor (their "advising consultant") for years and she's so sorry she didn't do it sooner.)

Sir Killian - father - very hands off with the kids. Led by stern example, but not cruel, just not accepting of deviation from his expectations. One-on-one and in private, he can be very warm and caring, even jovial and soft. But there's a military history, one that he's not escaped and comes through in much of his interactions and the persona he puts off. "Sir" comes from that experience. He appears quietly disappointed all the time that none of his children took up the mantle of military service. (It is later revealed that he did not partake in childrearing or supporting Susannah in it because he knew the father he would be was not the father his kids deserved--his father was militant, alcoholic, abusive, etc. He shares that he regrets not even trying, but at the same time, sees how it was a benefit. He shares that he is actually relieved that none of his children went into military service and that his experience made him very anti-war, but coming out with those views would have excommunicated him from his family, and he felt he had to uphold that connection for fear of not being able to provide for his family.)

[ssahotstuff]

Aaron Hotchner Playlist Collection 💕

I Found Someone by Cher here

Warnings: smut, age gap, oral, fem receiving, unprotected sex, alcohol use, cursing

Word count: 6k

Meeting your father's friends was usually something you didn't enjoy doing. They were boring men with wives that were too good for them, all into accounting or something mundane that didn't make for good conversation at the dinner table. You weren't sure what to expect when your father explained that his guest this evening was an FBI agent, a man named Aaron that he golfed with on occasion. Your mother was trying to play matchmaker, but you told her to keep dreaming; you couldn't help but be curious about the stranger though, eagerly awaiting his arrival.

"Now your father says he's a private man. He may not warm up to you quick," she warned, and you rolled your eyes, knowing you were the most lovable person on the planet and no one could resist your bubbly self, even a big, strong FBI agent.

You wore a shorter lavender dress and sandals, since the weather was cooperating. Your mother had repeatedly complimented your outfit, that's how you knew you'd done a good job getting ready. She was a tough woman to win over, but her idea that you and this secret visitor would hit it off was one she wasn't ready to shake any time soon. Your father had given you the go ahead if you were interested, because you were grown, and he said he was 'exactly your type' and that was an exact quote.

You had just started work on dinner when he arrived, your father inviting him to have a drink by the pool. You took a second standing in the bay window to admire him; he was your type. He was tall and broad, with dark hair and a strong, manly face. He looked like an FBI agent in his khakis and crisp baby blue dress shirt. You pulled yourself away from the window to focus on the meal you were cooking, your mother had abandoned you in the kitchen to see to her guest.

You checked on dinner which was nearly finished, all you needed to do was set the table. It was at this point the handsome stranger had decided to come introduce himself, standing idly by while you put plates in their proper place.

"Your dad tells me we have you to thank for dinner tonight," he shot you a dazzling smile from his spot by the door, and you gestured to the table, trying to make light of the situation.

"Mom means well when she starts, but she usually leaves me to it. I'm Y/n," you put out your hand for him to shake, noticing how his hands swallowed yours up, and it left your imagination to wonder as to what he could do with them. You wanted to scold yourself for being so shamelessly attracted to him but you couldn't help it, he was exactly what you wanted in a man.

"Aaron. It smells delicious in here. Is there anything I could help you with?" You were shocked at his manners, how helpful he was. He put silverware and napkins on one side of the table while you brought the food to the table. He made a satisfied hum as you sat dinner on the table and you took a moment to be proud that you'd learned something in the kitchen and could impress a man with your cooking skills.

"I'll grab your parents, if you want," he offered, so you poured the wine and waited on everyone to join you.

"Smells like the holidays in here," your dad chirped as he took a seat at the head of the table, Aaron taking the seat across from you.

"Wrong kind of bird," you'd made a chicken, baked to golden perfection with the right amount of seasoning and butter, hoping it was as juicy as it looked.

"Either way, it smells good dear. I don't know what I'll do when you move out," your mother not cooking was kind of the family joke—you always made meals, no matter who was coming over. Your dad loves your cooking and so did everyone else, you hadn't met a soul that complained yet.

"Starve or live off of microwave dinners," you shot back and he groaned, all while shooting your mother a loving look from across the table.

"Maybe you can still cook for me on Sundays," he was especially sensitive about you moving out and into your first home in a few weeks, his little girl all grown up and going out on her own. He'd helped you pick the house, deciding on a small, two bedroom home on the opposite side of town, but still close. You would only be five minutes away.

"Sunday dinner sounds doable," you bargained, knowing you'd be busy with your new job but the weekends were always free.

"Her apple turnovers are going to change your life," your dad told Aaron, making you blush. You weren't usually so bashful but your smiley guest had you on your toes, making you a bit more alert than normal.

"I can't wait to try them," he offered you a smile behind his glass, your mother tossing you a knowing look from her spot at the table.

"Tell us about what you do, Aaron. You're a profiler, right? Y/n took a couple of classes at the Academy," your mother beamed, hoping you'd have more than one thing in common with him. He explained briefly what it was exactly that he and his team did, how he was always on the road, and that it was a hard lifestyle to keep up with. He was saying these things to see how you'd react to the toll his job took on his personal life, if it scared you. You weren't the slightest bit intimidated, in fact, you would happily make your schedule work around something like that. You worked from home so it would be easy enough to manage a sporadic relationship, and you were more than interested in the man across from you.

"What do you do exactly?" He asked you, and you assumed your father hadn't explained to him.

"I teach homeschooled children four days a week, it's all on the computer so it's pretty neat. There are only 3 kids I teach regularly so it's a really personal experience," he clung to your every syllable, his gaze on you entirely as you spoke. You'd never felt so recognized; it was like someone was finally hearing you for the first time.

"When I retire from the field I think I'll teach at the academy," he told you, and it seemed that you had more than one thing in common—you could tell by your mother's perpetual happy face that she was excited the two of you seemed to be hitting it off.

"After dinner we'll show Aaron the pool table," your dad said, winking at you from his seat. You were the undefeated champion in your house, your dad had taught you well and you practiced nearly everyday having a table so easily accessible. It was your party trick, your go to at bars to hustle men out of money. You'd play dumb the first couple of games and then you'd sweep them under the rug, leaving them wondering how you did it.

"Something tells me I've been practicing the wrong sport," he was an avid golfer, and you went occasionally, if your dad asked you to. You hadn't been since summer ended, but if they were to invite you, you'd go, just to see Aaron play.

"Oh she's a hell of a golfer too. We should go before you move, take Aaron with us," he suggested and you agreed happily, knowing there was a white tennis skort in your closet that you were dying to wear in front of Aaron. It was long enough to wear in front of your dad but short enough to be rather scandalous, and what better way to tease the new object of your affections?

"I'm free this week," he told you, and so you all aimed for Tuesday, meeting at the country club to spend the day whacking balls around. When dinner was finished you stayed behind to help your mother with the dishes, Aaron and your father making their way towards the basement. Aaron shot you one final look before descending the stairs, a mixture of curiosity and anticipation on his face. Your mother was all giggles as you stood at the sink, washing as she dried.

"He likes you. I can tell," you felt yourself blush uncontrollably as you worked along side of her, trying to keep a straight face.

"He just met me, mom."

You had noticed his eyes on you through dinner, the way he couldn't pull his gaze from you no matter who was talking. He was more interested in your reaction to what was being said, or what you had to say.

"He gave you that look, and I know that look. It's the same one your father gave me," their age gap was similar to yours and Aaron's, which is why your parents were so okay with it in the first place. He was nearly forty, but you didn't mind—he looked really good for his age and it didn't intimidate you the way it might some women. You liked older men, preferred them in fact. He was right up your alley, as predicted by your parents.

"Don't get carried away," you finished up and joined your father and Aaron in the basement, your mom trailing right behind you. She poured the four of you a drink and you watched your dad and Aaron play pool; he was good, but your dad finished the game quickly, pocketing all of his balls first.

"Come play," your dad urged, giving you a chance against Aaron. You started off easy, making a couple of shots, giving him time to keep up with you. It wasn't until your third simultaneous pocket that Aaron started to get concerned he might lose.

"You're a lot better than I expected," he admitted as you won the game, your dad cheering you on from his chair across the room. Your game room was impressive, pool and air hockey tables in the center, a bar in the back, along with several loungers and chairs to sit in. You and Aaron played another game while your parents talked, but eventually your mom and dad went upstairs, leaving you alone with him.

"I know we're golfing this week, but seeing you again is at the top of my to do list," he said after taking a shot and missing, letting you have your turn.

"I'll give you my number and we can do something," you agreed, exchanging numbers before your dad requested Aaron's presence, so you followed him upstairs. They went out back by the pool, leaving you and your mother in the kitchen. She'd just put an apple turnover on a plate for you and then herself, sitting down at the table with you.

"Your dad sees it too. He wants you with someone who can take care of you," your mother explained, and you knew that as overbearing as they could be at times, they only wanted what was best for you.

"We're going to see each other again," you whispered, watching her gush with excitement for you, her hand on your arm.

"I hope you see him everyday."

You had been texting him nonstop. After he left your house, he sent you a message, and it was never ending after that—you always found something new to talk about, keeping conversations going for hours. Your phone hadn't been so glued to your hand since middle school when you'd first gotten one. You walked around the house with a smile plastered to your face at all times, feeling like a lovesick puppy at all times. He was just so sweet, constantly giving you compliments and telling you how he couldn't wait to see you again—it made you want to see him all the time.

You'd just closed your bedroom door for the night, climbing in bed so you could text him uninterrupted by anything else. His nights were spent clacking away at his phone, talking to you, and you loved being able to occupy such a large portion of his time. You especially liked that he made time for you despite his hectic schedule.

Instead of a text message, he was calling you, his name flashing across the caller ID, making you do a double take.

"Hey," you were surprised he was calling but you wouldn't complain about hearing his smooth, deep voice again.

"I don't know how you feel about calls, but I wanted to hear your voice before bed," he purred, making you sink further into the pillows, smiling to yourself.

"You can call me any time. Tell me about your day," you encouraged, and so he did. He didn't give you all the details, but he'd got to work locally the last few days, and he'd finished things up just in time for your golf day. It was tomorrow, and you'd had your outfit in mind for days, hoping Aaron liked it as much as you thought he would.

"I'm excited I get to see you again tomorrow," he told you, making your cheeks heat up even if he wasn't around to see it. He could reduce you to a puddle in no time, make you feel at the top of the world with his sweet words and kind nature.

"I've thought about it all week," you told him, his chuckle low and melodious on the other end of the phone.

"Me too. I was going to wait until tomorrow to ask, but while I've got you on the phone, I was wondering if I could take you on a date."

You agreed a little too happily, but you'd been expecting it in a sense. You knew you wanted to see him where you could be around him without your father and you were hoping he'd be a gentleman and ask you out instead of just asking you to come to hang out. You had no doubts that at his age, he was interested in something serious, and you could tell he knew how to treat a lady by the way he was always polite and courteous with you, making sure you were comfortable with him asking certain questions.

"Then it's settled. I don't want to sound impatient, but the sooner the better," you had craved a man that was all about you and it seemed as if you'd finally found one; Aaron was especially attentive, wanting to give you his undivided attention whenever he could. When he wasn't working, he was texting you, giving you updates about his day and asking about yours, or asking a question to learn more about you.

"Excited to see me?" You joked, and he hummed in response, making you eager to hear his response.

"I've been waiting to see you since I left your house. There's just something about you that I can't get out of my head," you were shocked to hear him so transparent but you appreciated his honesty. It had been a long time since you'd genuinely felt anything for anyone, and you'd given Aaron a spot in your life easily compared to other men you'd dated. Aaron was different; he was mature, he knew what he wanted and he wasn't afraid to tell you how he felt.

"I'm glad we're on the same page," you'd felt the same, the man had laced your every thought, making you feel like the most important person in the world with his sweet messages and desire to talk to you.

"Can I take you out tomorrow night? I'm off the rest of the week so any time I can see you, I want to."

You quickly gave him all of your free time, making plans to work twice as hard in between golfing and your date so you didn't fall behind.

"Tomorrow is fine with me. Should I drive?"

He told you that the two of you could meet at his house and you could leave your car there, that way you could come back to his place after dinner. You talked for a while, making plans for the week, just enjoying the conversation. Before you knew it, it was midnight, and you were yawning loudly into the receiver.

"Get some rest, sweetheart. I can't wait to see you tomorrow," you were anxious for the following day, nervous to be around him again. You hoped he still liked you after he spent more time with you, that he didn't get bored of you.

"I can't wait either. Sweet dreams, Aaron."

"Sweet dreams for the sweetest girl."

✨✨✨

"I can't believe you got a hole in one!" Your dad was still celebrating your triumph as you sat down for lunch; you won your round of golf free for making the shot, and they'd given you a gift card for the restaurant inside. You sat between your dad and Aaron, your eyes scanning the menu while Aaron's lingered on you. You hadn't missed his not so subtle stares all day, the longing looks he'd throw you when your father was taking his shot. He couldn't keep his eyes off of you, and the attention was driving you wild.

"You played such a good game today," Aaron told you, and your dad nodded in agreement, toasting his glass of wine to you as he took a sip.

"To you," Aaron clinked his glass against yours, his eyes lingering on your lips as you took a satisfying sip.

"What do you have planned for the rest of the day, Dad?" He was meeting your mother to shop in the city, which meant you could go home and work in peace with no distractions.

"Will you be home tonight?"

You shook your head, and he didn't press the issue, he didn't ask any invasive questions like your mother would have. He trusted your judgement, although he'd ask you everyday if you'd be home for dinner so he knew whether to make it a date night and take your mother out. You were going to miss them when you left, but your boxes had been packed for a while, and you were excited to start a more independent chapter of your life.

Your dad spied a friend across the restaurant and went to say hello, leaving you alone with Aaron for the first time all day. His hand brushed the fabric of your skort under the cover of the table before cupping your knee briefly.

"Did you wear this just for me?"

You nodded, blushing like mad as he smirked back at you over the rim of his glass. His lips were perfect, the most gorgeous shade of pink you'd ever seen, and his smile was something to be treasured. It was rare but you were getting to see more of it, and you adored it.

"I have another outfit for dinner though," he leaned forward slightly when he realized your dad was preoccupied, whispering low enough that only you could hear.

"You won't be home tonight, so I'm hoping that means you'll be with me?"

You took a sip of your water, needing to cool off. You hadn't thought about it when you told your dad you wouldn't be home, but you'd kind of hoped Aaron would keep you out late, or you'd just end up staying with him.

"Is that what you want?"

He nodded happily, sitting back as your food was delivered to the table, your dad rejoining you. The rest of the meal was spent reliving the victory on the course, your dad as happy and proud as you'd ever seen him. You knew he wanted to make the day a special one since you'd be leaving soon, but you'd already planned to make golf days with your dad a regular thing after you moved.

You all parted ways and you went home to work, not stopping until 6 when you needed to start getting ready. You fluffed your hair a bit, deciding it still looked good and slipped on a tight, baby blue dress, your bra and panties matching it. You were applying some lip gloss when he called you, obviously happy to hear your voice.

"I'm so excited to see you, sweetheart."

"I'll be ready in like, ten minutes," he was glad you were ahead of schedule so he sent you his address and it looked oddly familiar, but you couldn't quite place it. You promised to head over as soon as you got off the phone, so he let you go.

The reason his address seemed so familiar was because it was two streets away from the house you'd bought, so you'd live in the same neighborhood. You pulled up to his house and he met you at the door, his eyes trailing over you without abandon as he pulled you in for a hug.

"God, you're stunning. Look at you," he rasped, leaning back so he could take you in. He looked incredible in his black slacks and navy blue dress shirt, and you made sure to tell him so.

"You know that house on Orchard Street with the for sale sign is mine," you told him, his eyes going wide as he led you to the car.

"You mean you'll be a minute away from me all the time? I'll never get anything done," he helped you into his car and shut the door, joining you at the wheel. He let you control the radio as he drove you to a restaurant uptown, it was romantic and quiet, just how you preferred it. He took your hand and led you inside, the two of you ordering water instead of wine. You wanted to go into the night with a clear head, just in case you had to make any hasty decisions.

"I'm so glad you let me take you out. I would've done it sooner but work makes things, well, difficult," he was secretly terrified that his job would scare you off, but you took his hand from across the small table, lacing your fingers through his.

"I can live with difficult."

You didn't stop talking until dinner came, and even then you found things to talk about. It was so easy to speak to him, he was letting you in a lot easier than you'd originally anticipated. He was quick to tell you anything you wanted to know.

"I figured after this we could watch a movie at my place. I made brownies just for you. I remember you said they were your favorite," you'd had a brief discussion about baking a few nights ago when he complimented your apple turnovers, but you hadn't expected him to remember, but he did.

"Are you always this sweet, or is this just for me?" It was his turn to blush, leaning toward you to brush your hair over your shoulder.

"There's just something about you. I don't know what it is," for a moment as his eyes reflected back into yours, you could see a future with him. It was easy to imagine a life where you made yourself available to him and in return, he treated you like royalty. You could see it as clear as day when you looked into his eyes, and it made you want more of him, just like that.

"I feel it too."

By the time you made it back to his house, he was giving you a t-shirt to change into, which hung off your body just as your dress had, hitting the middle of your thigh. You could tell by the way he stared you down as you climbed into his bed that he'd wanted to see you in his clothes; it was possessive for him, like now that you'd worn his shirt, you'd always belong in his clothes.

"You find us something to watch while I change clothes," he excused himself and you browsed the channels, settling on a scary movie that had just started. He saw what you'd chosen and turned out the lights, climbing in bed next to you. Your nerves had completely disappeared and was replaced by a new feeling entirely—you wanted to get caught up in him, give yourself over to him if he'd allow it. You were half naked in his bed, hoping and praying he acted on it.

"Can I come a little closer?" His voice was like silk in your ear, and instead of responding, you moved into him, letting him drape his arm around you. His free hand was in his lap as he set his focus on the tv, but you could tell by the frequent glances in your direction that his mind was somewhere else entirely.

"You're effortlessly beautiful, do you know that? Not many people can look like this just sitting to watch a movie," his hand met your shoulder, squeezing lightly as you turned to face him.

"I really like the way you make me feel," he moved a little closer, pressing a kiss to your shoulder through your shirt, but it still made you tingle all over.

"I want to make you feel good, all the time," he promised you, his head in the crook of your neck as his lips met your skin, featherlight and delicate, but it set you on fire, making you clamp your thighs together. His hand met your thigh, his fingertips pressing gently into the doughy flesh as he let his lips linger over yours.

"Kiss me," you pleaded, rewarded by his mouth meeting yours. It was everything you hoped it would be; his mouth was urgent and needy, his tongue dancing against yours as he brought you to straddle his lap. You could feel your panties, slick and sticky with arousal as you sat on his lap, his hand snaking between your bodies, creeping under your shirt.

"Can I see you, pretty girl?"

In a second you were tossing his shirt over your head, letting him look at you in your matching set as his hands wandered over every inch of you, stopping in the middle of your back to unclasp your bra. His mouth sucked a trail of kisses across your chest, taking each of your nipples into his mouth until they were stiff, tweaking them between his fingers as you tried not to grind against him.

"Gonna lay you down, sweetheart. Would it be alright if I taste you? I'll beg if you want me to," you knew by his tone that he was serious but you'd never make him beg, not when his eyes were darkening by the second as you climbed out of his lap and laid against the pillows. He made sure you were comfortable before he parted your thighs, examining the ever growing wet patch on the front of your panties. His fingers darted out to touch it, his thumb brushing your clit through the fabric, making you moan lightly. His eyebrow shot up and he did it again, this time slowly dragging his finger upwards with a bit of pressure, the sensation enough to make your legs shake.

"Sensitive girl, gonna have so much fun with you," his words went straight to your core, the fire you felt for him now an uncontrollable inferno, consuming every inch of you.

"Been dreaming about this since I met you," you told him, ducking forward to give him a kiss, his hands massaging your thighs, splayed across your skin beautifully.

"Mhm, I wanted you as soon as I met you. I couldn't stop staring—I still can't," you knew he only had eyes for you, he gave you too much of his attention, wanted you around as often as you could be. He grew tired of teasing and slid your panties down your legs, laying his head on your thigh, his eyes glued to your sex. His fingers slid through your arousal, making you sit up on your elbows to watch him explore your body. His fingers found your clit, rubbing at an agonizingly slow pace, making your brows pull together as you bit your lip, staring down at him.

"Already, baby? We're going to have so much fun," he was thoroughly amused as you came undone, shuddering under his gentle touch. His fingers flicked expertly at your clit, his thumb brushing over you lightly before he leaned forward and pressed a gentle kiss to your clit, peering up at you to gauge your reaction. You felt your mouth fall open as he did it again, this time swirling his tongue around your bundle of nerves. You let out a strangled noise that was music to his ears, because the kisses didn't stop, combined with the fluid movements of his tongue, you were whimpering his name in no time, gripping the sheets as he brought you to the edge.

"Tastes so good, let me feel you do it again," he slowed down dramatically, his tongue lapping at you at a more steady, precise pace. It was driving you insane, how quickly he could give you what you needed, his mouth moving against you like he'd always known what your body needed.

"Jesus, Aaron, your mouth is perfect," the words came out as a whisper, but he heard you, his lips curling into a grin as you went limp against the mattress, your head on the pillow, one leg tossed lazily over his shoulder. He was content, pleased to be pleasuring you. You were addicted to the way his hands gripped your thighs, pulling you further into his mouth as his tongue traced patterns on your swollen, sensitive clit. You'd had more orgasms than you could count under the mercy of his tongue, but he was sitting up, crawling on top of you so he could kiss you passionately, his hand cupping your face. He pushed down his pants and boxers, kicking them off.

"Are you okay with this, sweetheart? If you're not, that's okay," you pulled him forward, encouraging to slip into you.

"I don't have a condom," he groaned, but you told him you were on birth control, so with one final glance at you, he let himself slide into you, your walls stretching to accommodate his massive member. You let out a moan as he bottomed out in you, wiggling against him and he hadn't even moved his hips yet.

"Impatient, baby. Let me get used to you, feel you squeeze me tight," for a moment he stayed completely still, letting you clench around him as he throbbed inside of you.

"I love the way you feel inside me," you panted as you looked up at him; he began to pump in and out of you, especially slow, like he was trying to control himself. His eyes were barely slivers but there was a ghost of a grin on his lips as he buried himself inside of you, gripping him like a vice.

"You're so perfect, sweetheart. You feel so fucking good, my knees are shaking," he could barely keep his balance as he fucked you, struggling to stay upright as he thrusted into you, making you feel whole, completed. It was unusual that you didn't feel the least bit insecure with him; you hadn't had the chance. He made you feel like the most desired person in the world, it was hard to feel anything but wanted.

"Aaron, please," he sped up a little, the sound of his hips smacking your flesh bouncing off the walls as he let go and stopped holding back—his pace changed and he was pounding into you, making you cry out in ecstasy; you never wanted anyone else to touch you, only Aaron. You'd never been so sexually satisfied, and you didn't want to share him with anyone else. His thrusts were getting sloppy, his hips moving into you on a mission as his hands gripped your thighs tighter. When he finished inside of you, you held your breath at the sheer intimacy of the gesture, happy that he trusted you enough to do it. He kissed you hard on the mouth as he leaned forward to caress your face, his thumb brushing across your bottom lip.

"I can't get over the fact that you'll just be around the corner in a couple of weeks," he got up long enough to grab a towel, cleaning you up before he slid back into bed with you. You cozied right up next to him, feeling for his body in the dark. His hands found yours, his fingers weaving together with yours.

"I hope that means I'll see more of you," you'd be lying if you said you weren't already falling for him-it was inevitable, from the moment you met him.

"You want to see me again?" He sounded kind of surprised, like he hadn't expected you to be so eager to spend more time with him, but you were hooked; you didn't know if you'd ever be able to get enough of him.

"You're kidding, right? Of course I do. Unless you don't," you were scared for a moment that he only wanted you for the night, and nothing more, but in the darkness you felt his lips connect with your cheek as he settled in for the night.

"I want to see you as often as I can. Your dad invited me over on Sunday, he said you're grilling out and I can't miss that," it would be the last time you got to use the grill before summer was officially over, and it was kind of like your going away party since you'd be moving out the following day. Your dad had practically begged to do a cookout, as long as you agreed to cook everything. You were going to miss cooking for him, the little compliments about your meals that he'd always give you that made you feel special.

"I have a suspicion that they want us together," he chuckled, peppering your face with kisses as he rolled over, tossing his arm over you. Neither of you had bothered to get dressed, so your bare back was pressed against his chest; you'd never felt so secure, so safe with another person.

"Your dad told me the day I came for dinner that we'd be good for each other. I knew he was right by the time I sat down for dinner," he whispered, kissing your shoulder blade as he cuddled into you.

"He's hardly ever wrong," you yawned, his arm snaking under the blanket to wrap around your middle, his other arm tucked under your pillow. He seemed to be completely at ease in the bed with you, and it made you hopeful for the future, what you could be together; you hadn't expected someone to come into your life and flip it upside down so quickly, not when you were about to begin an entirely new chapter of life, but you were glad it was him.

Master tags: @wheelsupkels @periodtcevans @hausofwhores @criminallyobsessedcm @tojithesourcerkiller @fireworksinthesky @realdirectionx

[scarlet--wiccan]

What do you think about (as an idea for a slight retcon to explain the Maximoff twins’ background without removing Natalya from their story) Magda actually BEING Natalya? As in, when Magda is presumed dead after giving birth, she actually took on a new persona as Natalya and started a new life as a witch? This way, Magneto and Magda could still be the twins’ parents. I feel like it’s iffy because Magda is Western European and Natalya is likely Eastern European implying they’d be from different vistas (sorry, I’m not 100% sure that this is the proper term) but I think it would be the best way to bring back the old story without undoing the new one.

I gotta tell you, that would be really hard to pull off. I mean, Marvel is no stranger to sloppy retcons, but if you actually care about good writing, I think it'd be tough. First of all, in Scarlet Witch, Wanda encounters a past version of Natalya from before the twins were born, and she's already a witch, already going by that name, etc. Second, multiple living characters attest that Natalya was Django's brother and had been living-- and doing magic-- in the Balkans her whole life.

So, you need to find a way to account for all that. If Natalya, as a character, existed in a vacuum, then maybe it would work, although I really don't like that almost every Romani woman in comics is a witch, so I'd like to keep Magda out of that if possible.

On that subject, though, if we are going to continue employing Romani witch archetypes, I want to do it in a way that speaks authentically to this part of Romani history.

As I understand it, things like folk magic and divination, in the Romani community, are usually family trades, and were historically practiced as survival work, so, for most people, it is something that goes back several generations. A lot of those skills, like cartomancy, were developed by applying Romani ancestral customs to European folkways, and many of our communities do still have closed and/or initiatory spiritual traditions.

I don't have all the right answers, but I feel very strongly that if Wanda's magic is hereditary, it does need to be a part of a family lineage. My dream would be to really incorporate this part of Romani history into the Marvel canon in a way that changes outsider perceptions of witches and gypsies in genre fiction for the better. That's a lofty goal, and I'm not the right person to do it-- I'm sure you can imagine that this is difficult to talk about in a way that respects our cultural boundaries, and you end up walking a really fine line between representation and affirming stereotypes. So, it's just really hard.

Anyway, that's why I kind of love Natalya as she is, and I want to believe that something really positive could be done with this character. In the same vein, I actually really like that Magda is just an ordinary lady-- her story's really dark, but it's important for people to be reminded of Romani Holocaust victims, and I worry that we would be taking away from that if we made her into a magical being.

In this house we stan two unique, individual, and equally important Romani mothers!!!

The word you're looking for is "vitsa," which, in this context, is used to describe distinct groups or communities within the global Romani diaspora. Those distinctions are not technically based on geography-- it's more about lineage and dialect-- but, yeah, in Europe, they tend to be regional. It's not a hard rule, or anything. My family lives really far north from where you'd think to find Cale people, but that's who we are! I don't think it's ever explicitly stated, but we can infer from context that Magda is Sinti. She is actually one of the few Romani characters in comics with an identifiable vitsa. The fact that the Maximoffs don't have one can make it harder to nail down "authentic" details, which is sometimes frustrating.

[lokischickadee]

Rightful king of Asgard

Loki x OC

Celeste was sitting on the couch in Avengers tower. Loki walked over, looking her up and down. She looks up at him and smiled. “Can I help you?”

“I just wanted to let you know you look...gorgeous.” Loki winks with a smirk. “I'm Loki by the way.”

She smirks at his flirting. “My name is Celeste.”

“A gorgeous name to match a gorgeous person!” Loki steps closer, putting his hand on her cheek.

Celeste blushed at his words. She had heard the stories about how Loki could charm the clothes off of any person. “You really live up to your name don't you, silver-tongue?”

“Mhm, I suppose I do,” Loki says with a chuckle, a small grin on his face as he continues to look her in the eyes. he then leans in, and whispers in her ear. “I'm also great at getting beautiful women to melt in my arms. You look like a goddess, so I think a few compliments is the least I can do.” Loki continues caressing her face with his thumb.

“Would you like to know a secret?”

“Oh?” Loki looks intrigued by the comment. he raises an eyebrow, his other hand still stroking her cheek. He nods his head. “Go on. I'm all ears.”

She smiles. “I AM a goddess.”

“Oh, well then that's just perfect” Loki chuckles, seeming excited about this information. “I'm sure your beauty is known around the realms then?”

She laughs. “My powers and heritage is more known.”

“Hm, so are your powers that of the beauty and love goddesses?” Loki asks, leaning in a bit closer. “I'm just curious, that's all. It's not often that you see a literal goddess in the flesh”

“Actually yes! I am the daughter of Hades and Aphrodite,” Celeste says with a grin.

“Oh, well then I was right then.” Loki chuckles. “I'd say you probably inherited quite a lot of their abilities, considering your mother is literally the goddess of love? You really did win the genetic lottery, huh?”

She smirks and kisses his nose. “yes.”

Loki's face turns bright red, shocked that she actually did that. He smiles. “You know what, considering your mom is Aphrodite, I guess that's normal for you though, huh?”

“No, you are special,” Celeste says with a smile.

“Tell me, how did you discover you were a goddess?”

“I was born in Olympus right after the war between the Olympians and Titans.”

“Oh? The great war, huh?” Loki nods. “What kind of godly powers do you have?

“Pretty much all of the powers my mom and dad have,” she replies.

“Well, I imagine you have quite the arsenal then. What's it like being able to do all the things that they can? Do you feel...extra-powerful? Is there anything that you love doing, out of all the things your

abilities can accomplish?” Loki asks excitedly. he seems curious about all her abilities and he genuinely wants to learn more about her.

“A bit yeah.” She says with a laugh. “I protect the nine realms. I am only here right now because Thor needed me to help him with some kind of avengers business, I don't know.”

“Thor called upon the goddess of love to help with some silly battle?” Loki chuckles, shaking his head in amusement. “Well, that's...that's one way to utilize your abilities, I suppose.”

Celeste laughs. “I’m really the only god that will help him. The others choose to stay away cause of Odin.” She scowls at his name.

“You're angry at Odin?” Loki asks with an intrigued nod. He leans in a little closer, wanting to hear her explain her thoughts. “What has he done to you?”

“It's not what he's done to me. He's a monster, also he treats you like you are garbage and below him

when in reality it’s the other way around.”

“I suppose in a way I can see your point. He was the whole reason I became an outcast from Asgard.” He chuckles. “Perhaps even you can help me get some revenge when I go back there?” Loki smirks slyly.

Celeste smirks “Would you like the throne of Asgard?”

Loki laughs. “Well you have to admit, that would be quite a story for the ages, wouldn't it?” Loki chuckles again. “I could be the new king of Asgard, and you'd be my queen?”

“If you want!” She kneels and smirks. “My king.”

Loki blinks in a bit of disbelief. Was she really offering him the kingdom of Asgard? “...That's...that's quite the proposition, my lady. Are you absolutely sure this is what you want?”

Celeste stands up again. “Is it what you want? Don't worry about me darling.”

Loki takes a moment to think. he couldn't help but consider it...he would be king, and she would be his queen. It would be the greatest honor possible. He chuckles a little, his smile turning into a grin. “I accept, my goddess.”

“Do you want Odin dead or as a slave?” She asks with an evil smile on her face.

“I do hate Odin, but I believe that killing him would be too great an honor for him. I think we'd make more of a statement by forcing him to be our eternal servant, and to know that we are his betters,” Loki says after some thought.

Celeste laughs evilly. “I can strip him of all his powers leaving him vulnerable. I'll make him kneel to you.”

“Which is exactly why I want it done. He deserves to have his entire being and pride utterly and completely shattered,” Loki smirks, still very much excited and pleased to hear the goddess of love offer to enact such revenge. “I'd be forever grateful, my goddess.” Loki's smile turns from a bit of a normal, polite smile into the type of smile one would only see as they were about to commit an outrageous act of evil. he had a little of a mischief in his eyes, a look of satisfaction and anticipation. “Do what you must, my darling.”

Celeste grabs his hand and teleport you two to the throne room of Asgard. Loki's grip on her hand tightens. seeing the great halls of Asgard always made him a bit uneasy, but today he was determined to make a scene. he leans in, his face getting close to hers. “Let's go give that old bastard what he really deserves, huh?”

Odin appears. Loki rolls his eyes, and lets go of Celeste's hand. He raises an eyebrow. “Odin, you old fool. How are you this fine day?” Loki stands with his hands behind his back, a sarcastic and mocking smirk on his face. “As of today, this throne and this kingdom is no longer yours. My rule has just begun.”

A maniacal laugh escapes Loki's throat. “I will lead us into a new golden age. With me, and my lovely goddess by my side.”

Celeste looks at Odin. “Your reign has come to an end, you old hag.”

“Well, you heard her.” Loki chuckles, still with his arms behind his back. “Get to kneeling, you old fool. I am the king now.”

“I will never kneel to a monster like you,” Odin yells in defiance.

Celeste strips Odin of his powers leaving him vulnerable. She forces him on his kneels in front of Loki.

Loki watches in awe, his smile widening. to see Odin now, brought so low. It was a sight he never thought he'd see. He laughs again, this time he was laughing in true glee. Everything was going his way, and there was no one who would ruin it. “Look at you now Odin, weak and vulnerable. You are powerless before the might of Loki, the new king of Asgard! You'll be forced to worship us, and you'll be forced to bend your knee to us and beg for mercy.” Loki's cruel smile widens before he laughs again, seemingly enjoying the entire situation immensely. Loki smiles, watching the great god, who, only moments, ago ruled the realms with an iron fist, as he now kneeling there before him, is whole demeanor had changed. he had become a shell of his former self...and Loki couldn't help but feel a rush of power and control as he towered over the once mightiest deity.

“Why don’t you sit on the throne.” Celeste says with a smile.

“Yes, my queen.” Loki smirks, his eyes glowing with pride. He takes a seat on the throne, crossing his legs at the knees. Loki then looks at the goddess to his side. “You should join me, my love. We can rule together, and make Asgard the greatest realm of them all.”

She sits on his lap and kisses him passionately.