#as a matter of fact I kissed plenty of women at that age

[plant-pops]

my feet feel too moist today :(

[lokisprettygirl]

Lose me to Love you (Loki x Female Reader) (AU) (18+)

Read Chapter 18 here / Series Masterlist

Chapter 19

Summary: Loki wants to give you the world, he just doesn't know how to make you happy.

Trigger Warning: 18+ Smut, Description of rape and assault (it's a heavy but much needed chapter), panic attack, Extreme dark themes, Sexual abuse, physical abuse, public sex, Rough violent sex, 18+, Steamy stuff, age difference ,Rough language, mention of suicide, talk of virginity and slut shaming, manipulative behaviour, mention of trauma, smut, toxic relationship between main characters. Dark themes, cult stuff

You sat down on his lap and cupped his cheeks to kiss him, the one girl that he loves is you? The only one, his only one, you loved belonging to him in every sense, he could make you do anything he wanted and you'd accept it, as long as he kept you close you didn't care about anything else. 

"I love you lolo.. so much" the nickname made his eyes tear up again.

"You do" he was affirming it, the response was more to himself than you, he was believing in your love and that meant more than anything because you knew how hard it was for him to fully trust you or anyone for that matter. 

"I'll get that aspirin for you..it's in my room" you kissed him as passionately as you could before you got off his lap and stormed towards your room, you took the bottle of medicine out of the drawer and you were about to step out but you stopped and tried to process everything that has happened in the last few minutes, a smile crept on your features as you thought over the fact that he tried to open up about his past and how he confessed right after that, you just wished that he knew that when you said you were in this for life you really meant it. As you returned to his room he was fixing the bed, he smiled as he looked at you, looking at him now you couldn't really believe that he actually opened up about his tragic past with you.

"Here" you passed him the tablet so he took it and swallowed without any water or anything. 

As you both got in bed he fell asleep pretty quickly, maybe sharing a part of his past made him feel lighter, your lips continued to run over his skin once in a while, your hand curled around his body and you ran them over the scars on his back, just thinking about those awful men at the center hurting him so cruelly broke your heart in pieces, it made you want to cry so you did, as silently as you could.

He had to do horrible things, he had no other choice, he had no one by his side to help him, the conversation today had made you realize that all these years you thought he was a cocky little shit because he liked himself a little too much which you never really blamed him for because everyone liked him, especially women, he was attractive in a way that made them want to do sinful things with him, but now you knew that he didn't like himself at all, he in fact hated himself and the part of him that you knew at the center, that boy who risked everything to save you despised his own existence and maybe you would too if you were at his place but you had change it for him. He was there for you when you needed him so you'd be there for him now too. 

You snuggled into him as tightly as you could so if a nightmare would hit him again, this time you won't allow him to slip past your embrace. Next morning you woke up to his voice, not in your ears though, he was doing his job, finding work for you, you had auditions to prepare for, photoshoots to deal with and that producer Jane was insisting on a meeting as well. 

"What's the plan for today?" You asked him so he looked up from his phone, you had come out of the shower and had a towel wrapped around your body, he had seen you like this plenty of times before but he was never able to act on his feelings back then, he stood up and walked towards you then he grabbed your chin to make you look at him.

"Well Plan number 1 involves us kissing if you're up for it" you jumped into his arms as he said that, the towel somehow managed to stay on your body as your legs curled around his waist. 

"I'm up for a lot of things" you mumbled into his mouth making him chuckle in response, he continued to kiss you as he lowered you down on the bed slowly. 

"Patience sweetheart..your birthday is round the corner" you gasped as he said that, was he really going to fuck you for the first time on your 23rd birthday?

"Don't you think I have been patient enough?" 

"Nooooo" you whined but it turned into a moan as you felt his fingers running on the insides of your thighs, you have dreamt of this moment a countless times, you have touched yourself thinking about him like this on top of you and pretended that it was him doing it to you and feeling his fingers so close to your heat made you want to go feral but you wanted to be patient.

"You're my good girl aren't you?" And you wanted to be his good girl, his best girl. 

"Yes daddy" 

"Get ready..have an audition" he mumbled as he pressed a kiss on the side of your neck, his fingers running on your thighs almost melted your brain.

"I don't want to go" you mumbled meekly so he looked up at you ,

"You don't?" 

"I…I am tired" he leaned down to kiss your forehead, he was staring at your face trying to read if you were lying to him.

"No that's not it" you sighed as he said that, you pressed your head up to kiss him but he inched away "What's bothering you?" 

"Nothing lolo..I just.. I'm tired of auditioning" 

"But that's how you'd get the job" 

"I know..i just don't want to go today" 

He kissed on your cheek softly as you said that, you didn't want him to get upset with you.

"Okay then you don't have to, what do you want to do?" You smiled as he asked

"Ummmm take me out on a date" you asked him like a child and it made him chuckle.

"Like dinner and all that nonsense? We do that everyday" 

"Yess but it's different..it's .. romantic" 

"Romantic? You want me to romance you?" He chuckled and you puckered your lips, he wasn't that sort of guy you knew, you didn't know how he was with Jolene but with his other women you saw that his flings consisted of him fucking them senselessly as soon as he met them. 

"Yeahhh dress up for me.. sing for me..be nice to me and compliment me" He snickered and shook his head, his lips lingered over your forehead before he got up and sat down on the single couch you had in your room, he got busy on his phone doing you didn't know what and his indifference bothered you, maybe you were expecting a certain things from him that he wasn't wired to give you, the last thing you wanted to do was push him away. 

"Don't give me that look" you heard his voice and it snapped you out of the thought.

"What?" You looked at him confused

"That sullen little look that you have right now because I won't serenade you off your feet" your eyes teared up as he said that. He didn't have to be rude about it. You didn't respond to him and that made him feel like an arse, he noticed the sad look in your eyes, what was he supposed to do? All that romantic shit didn't come to him naturally, it never did, even with Jolene she was the one to approach him, she took him out on a date, she proposed him, she wanted to marry him, he just took everything and gave her his best, everything that he could give her he did and he knew it wasn't enough.

You got up to dress yourself up to distract yourself from the hurt you were feeling at the moment, maybe this relationship with him won't be some magical love fest you were used to seeing in movies but he was yours for life and you had his whole attention, his loyalty, his love that came from the deepest part of his broken heart. The confession made you smile again and it helped you forget this little thing, you didn't want to hurt him or fight with him.

"Ummmm I'm thinking I should give the audition..maybe I'll get it…who knows" you mumbled as you brushed your hair but he didn't respond so you looked at him "Loki?"

"I won't take you on a stupid date so you're being passive aggressive now?" 

"Nooo I just…why are you being so mean?" Your eyes welled up again so he sighed. 

"Come here" he brought his hand forward but you shook your head "Don't make me come there darling..alright?" He gestured with his fingers so you walked towards him and he pulled you on his lap, his thumbs wiped the tears that rolled down your cheeks "Am I not being nice to you?" He grabbed the back of your neck with one hand, you felt his thumb rubbing circles at the nape while his other hand grabbed your chin so you'd keep your eyes on him 

"That's not what I meant" you mumbled softly and then you felt his lips on yours for a fleeting moment,

"What do you need, baby hmm?" 

"Nothing, it was just a thought.. nothing else" 

"And I want to do it for you..I want to give you everything you know that right?" His voice was soft, so tender in your ears and all of a sudden being here on top of him while he whispered sweet nothings in your ears felt much better than being out there on a date. 

"I just want us to have a good time..life has been bad and none of us know what will happen to us –" 

"Nothing would harm you I promise my sweetheart " 

"And you? What about you? What if something takes you away from me" you sniffled as you spoke so he kissed you again. 

"No sweet buttons..not again..they once did and I was bound by their laws and I couldn't do anything..but I won't allow anyone to separate us again you hear me?" Your arms curled around his neck and you held onto him tightly, he caressed your back in a soothing manner. 

"I love you Lolo" 

"I know baby..you look so beautiful even when you cry..how's that even possible?" You giggled at the playful remark but he wasn't joking. 

"That's why I'm an actress" he smiled as you said that. Was he just soft and romantic with you in his own ways? Definitely and you didn't need him to sweep you off your feet with a fancy date, he already had you completely. 

He cupped your cheeks and kissed you again, it started slow, really slow and sensuous, it was so easy for him to pull you back to him, to console you, to comfort you, to manipulate you into thinking that he knew better, that he had your best interest at heart and that's exactly what he had done for a long time, he never intended to deceive you but he just figured he had to keep you hooked to him somehow so you'd never leave him but now that you had given yourself to him like this his heart couldn't stay still. This precious girl in his arms has been his whole world since he saved her and he wanted to keep you so happy. So immensely loved if it was possible for a monster like him to give you that. 

He didn't want to take this for granted, he wanted you to feel valued by him and he knew he had to change his ways for that to happen. 

He pulled the zipper of your dress down and slid the straps down your shoulder making you gasp with a sudden turn of events. Not that you were complaining.

"Hips up little girl" he whispered in your ear so you followed his command instantly, his fingers hooked around the waistband of your panties and he lowered it down. 

"Dadddyyy" you moaned into the crook of his neck as you felt his fingers rubbing between your lips, the wetness coated his fingers immediately and he flicked your clit with his thumb, your breasts threatened to spill out of your dress but he enjoyed the sight of your half exposed body, you looked disheveled and he felt perverted playing with you like this, his mind kept drifting back and forth, reminding him of what your relationship used to be like, he was supposed to be your guardian, an older man your mother trusted to keep her daughter safe, the monster inside him taunted him that he was using you, using an young sweet untouched girl like you to play to his perversions but he didn't want to stop. He couldn't stop when you squirmed so desperately in his arms, he couldn't stop when his touch made you drip like a faucet. 

His middle finger probed at the entrance and you squeezed onto his shoulder blades, 

"Fuckkking hell my darling, you have never been fingered this way have you?" He whispered in your ear and you could only shake your head in response, it felt too much but it felt too good. His finger slipped inside slowly and he worked his way deeper, stretching you slowly until your walls encased his long slender digit completely, you felt it inside you and your mind went into overdrive, you didn't think you'd survive the night he'd fuck you. 

"Lift your dress up darling I want to see how pretty your cunt looks wrapped around my finger" you bit on your lips as he said that, your eyes teared up, not with pain but by the sheer intensity of the moment. You grabbed the hem of your dress and pulled it up so he could see the sight of your wet dripping filled cunt. He pumped his finger in and out of you slowly and your eyes rolled back into your head. 

"Dadddyyy ..it feels so good" you whimpered into his ear and it made him snicker, he watched you losing all your senses as his finger curled inside and rubbed against the sweet spot that made you jolt up.

"I know baby I know..I want you to feel good" he sucked on your neck and he heard you whimpering again,

"It's toooooo muchhhhh daddyyy ..too much" 

"But you can take it right? Want to be good for me hmm? Show daddy how well you take him" 

"Mmmm yessss fuckkk please" 

"That's my girl" he fastened his pace, the tip of his finger brushed over that sweet spot while his thumb continued to stimulate your clit. He didn't even need to ask you to cum or utter filthy words in your ears to make you cum, your walls clenched around him as your orgasm but you like a rock. Your body convulsed on top of him so you held onto him tightly while you swam in the ocean of bliss. It was enough for the day and it was perfect. Now you knew why women got obsessed with him, now you understood their desperation, he knew a woman's body and what it needed more than they themselves did.

That day started rocky but it changed its course, or that's what you thought, it would have ended perfectly if you two had decided to just stay in and cuddle on the bed, the conversation before made him want to do something for you, so he asked you out for a dinner. Very casually, he chose a restaurant you two never went to, he wanted you to have a good time but the night didn't end well for him, it turned into one of the worst nights of his life. Worse than all those nights when he was beaten up at the center, worse than the night he gave up on his life.

 You were taken away from him, by whom he didn't know just yet but you were gone and he couldn't find you. 

👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀

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[apocalypticavolition]

Let's (re)Read The Great Hunt! Chapter 24: New Friends and Old Enemies

Spoiler alert: I don't know who made this. Eugene de Blaas definitely did most of the work, but I found this as a reblog of a now-dead account "laurientius" so... yeah. Also spoiler alert: My reread has spoilers for the entirety of the series. Don't keep reading if that's going to be a problem.

A second chapter in a row with the Flame of Tar Valon, which again is a reflection of us exploring the White Tower.

Egwene curtsied, then stuck out her tongue at the Accepted’s retreating back.

Egwene has a weird problem with authority sometimes. I suppose Pedra must have an unpleasantness in her voice, though we know from later on that she's not really that unpleasant.

“My name is Elayne,” she said. She tilted her head, studying Egwene. “And you are Egwene. From Emond’s Field, in the Two Rivers.” She said it as if it had some significance, but went right on anyway.

The significance is of course primarily that she's already met someone from the Two Rivers and not specifically that Egwene is her subject. Elayne's not awful like that.

Also: yay! Elayne!

From now on, you will be at training at this hour every day, as a matter of fact. From breakfast until High, then again from dinner to Trine. If you are especially quick or especially slow, they may take you from supper to Full, as well, but that is usually for more chores.

All the chores and training sounds like a particularly grueling schedule, though I suppose the average gal in this setting would probably find it relaxing since they'd be working all day at the farm or store anyway.

“You saw it around me?” she said excitedly. “I saw it around you. Sheriam Sedai said I would, eventually. This was the first time. For you, too?”

How can they not be fated to be bestest buds at this point? In a more sapphic novel this is the part where they'd kiss. Well, think about it anyway.

Abruptly Egwene found herself remembering a tale Rand had told, a tale she had not believed, about falling off a wall into a garden and meeting. . . . “You’re the Daughter-Heir of Andor,” she gasped.

Shoulda believed that poor boy.

“She keeps a willow switch on her desk. She says if you can’t learn to follow the rules in a civilized way, she will teach you another way. There are so many rules for novices, it is very hard not to break some of them,” she finished.

Elayne probably hasn't been spanked much before this. Considering the schoolgirl approach to the Tower training, the switch being present is probably some of the least eyebrow raising physical punishment we see in the series, but again it's important to note these things so we can discuss the more egregious examples later on.

But we are children. The Aes Sedai, the full sisters, are the grown women. The Accepted are the young women, old enough to be trusted without someone looking over their shoulders every moment. And novices are the children, to be protected and cared for, guided in the way they should go, and punished when they do what they should not.

In fairness to the Aes Sedai way of thinking here, novices are unlikely to be a tenth of the way through their natural lifespan at this point and Accepted only barely past that. The long life makes for longer periods of initiation.

Egwene, there are only forty novices in the Tower. Only forty, and no more than seven or eight will become Accepted.

Yeah those numbers are outright atrocious. Without change, the White Tower won't be able to last as an institution past the current number. By the time they've died of old age, there won't be enough Aes Sedai left just to train the new generation.

But the Tower will not . . . cannot . . . lower its standards.

Elayne is correcting herself here to be diplomatic, but she was right the first time, as Egwene shows. There's plenty of ways the Tower could have high standards without doing all the crap it does. And Sheriam badmouthing the current state of affairs is just so perfect. As a Black she's encouraging novices and accepted to despair at the current state of affairs while seeming to be arguing for something that would only hinder the Blacks and thus keep her above suspicion.

Elayne paused, and then said, “Is Rand well?” Egwene felt a sudden stab of jealousy—Elayne was very pretty—but over it came a stronger stab of fear.

Egwene just ain't used yet to Rand being off the table, but her heart's in the right place.

Anyway, I’ve not seen her since the day we arrived, with Whitecloaks dogging our trail. They are still camped on the Dragonmount side.

What delightful foreshadowing.

“Men,” Egwene muttered. “I dance a few dances with a nice boy, and Rand goes around looking like a dog with a sore tooth, but he—”

But he didn't dance with anyone and barely flirted except with Elayne. Calm down girl. Hypocrisy is your worst look.

The man rumbled a bitter laugh. “With two or three of you watching my every move? You’re just afraid I’ll find a knife.” At the look in the Accepted’s eyes, he laughed again. “For myself, woman. For myself. Lead me to your garden, and your watching eyes.”

Poor Logain. Elayne's quite wrong. At the moment he's less dangerous than most other men.

“Do they always have to be gentled?” she asked. Elayne stared at her, mouth agape, and she quickly added, “It is just that I’d think the Aes Sedai would find some other way to deal with them. Anaiya and Moiraine both said the greatest feats of the Age of Legends required men and women working together with the Power. I just thought they’d try to find a way.”

Good cover, Egwene. And honestly the kind of question that, even though you are asking it as a ruse, shows your potential and keen mind.

“I know you,” Egwene said. “You worked at the inn in Baerlon.” A light breeze riffled the water beneath the bridge, and graywings warbled in the trees of the garden.

You can see why people think Egwene should be ta'veren, though I'd say all these meetings are more about her being at the place that is the current fulcrum of the world than anything inherent to her.

She said I’d have to share my husband with two other women, and I’d never put up with that. She just laughs, and says it was never her idea of how to run things, either.

It's a little bit of a shame from a drama perspective that there's never any real fallout when Elayne realizes that Min knew she was one of the other two women all along. It's also sad for Min that it's quite clear she dislikes her destiny and never comes to terms with it.

“A white flame, and. . . . Oh, all sorts of things. I don’t know what it means.”

The White Flame is obviously the Amyrlin Seat itself - surprising no one makes this connection early. I expect she sees the lights she saw last book, more swallowed up now that Egwene is comparatively alone (though Elayne may be another person who has this image). She probably sees something about Gawyn in specific that she doesn't want to share in front of Elayne.

“One of the things she said she saw looking at me was a severed hand. Not mine, she says. She claims she does not know what it means, either.”

This would have been Rand's severed hand back when he was going to lose it by royal decree but I have no clue what it's about now. Maybe it's got something to do with the Band of the Red Hand?

She tried to settle herself, to think of Rand. He’s so . . . beautiful. She gave a jump, half afraid she had spoken aloud.

Galad's getting extra attention in this first meeting is probably an artifact of when he would have ended up with Egwene after Gawyn died. Still kinda works to subvert the first meeting of fated lovers kinda thing though.

I have met all sorts of people, and they’ve met Rand al’Thor. Some do not even know his name, but the description could not be anyone else, and he’s shifted every one of their lives. There was an old farmer who came to Caemlyn just to see Logain, when Logain was brought through on his way here; yet the farmer stayed to stand for Mother when the riots started. Because of a young man off to see the world, who made him think there was more to life than his farm.

We're going to hear a lot more about the lives Rand changes. It's funny that it's Gawyn who first really highlights it, considering how negative his obsession ends up being.

“We three are tied together,” Min said, “and we cannot let any man get in the way of that. Not even him.”

Min, when after this book is the next time you even see Egwene? Maybe in Caemlyn for a bit? You and she have almost less time together than you and Mat and that's saying an alarming amount.

“In Caemlyn, child, I am councilor to the Queen your mother, but this is the White Tower, and you, a novice.”

I mean yeah Elaida's being a bit stuck up here but is she wrong? I bet if Sheriam overheard Elayne not say "Sedai" to Elaida she'd have her horsewhipped before Elaida could get two words in. The whole point is to leave old connections behind, even if the Tower is hypocritical and wants the princesses it teaches to rise to power.

Behind them, Egwene heard the Aes Sedai begin, “I am given to understand, girl, that you were brought here by Moiraine Sedai.”

Does Min see the White Flame around Elaida? Does she see Fain? The vanity tower? The Black Ajah hunters? The a'dam?

She looked over her shoulder to make sure the Aes Sedai was not following her, but Elaida was nowhere in sight.

Dammit narrative I want my questions answered and here you are cutting in only when it's too late! It's frankly a bizarre choice at this point, as Min gets only the tiniest bit of POV and only to establish that she's pissed at Moiraine too. That could have been done in Egwene's perspective I think.

Next time: The House of the Rising Sun!

[gotasenseivebeenbetrayed]

Like don't get me wrong, I don't want Tay to be cheated on. But please be for real - this means literally nothing. People will cheat no matter what.

I absolutely ADORE Jason Momoa. Fell in love with him back when he was a nobody on Stargate Atlantis. Anyways, that man was obsessed with Lisa Bonet as a kid. They have a 12 year age difference. He literally used to brag about having her photos on his walls and how she was his biggest celebrity crush. Then he met, they dated for yeaarrss and then married. He was absolutely SMITTEN with her in public. I literally never would've thought he'd cheat or they'd divorce. Yet he did. And they did.

I don't think Travis has had a crush on Taylor since high school. I mean he did choose to marry Katy over Taylor in the whole marry, kiss, kill thing ans that wasn't even that long ago. Did he seem to manifest her? Sure. But Jason M. literally fits all that up there to a T and he still cheated..multiple times if sources are to be believed. Apparently he was a known cheater (I didn't know this til recently) anyways, I'm also fairly certain Travis has also been said to be a known cheater? Not sure how true that is but, regardless - no matter how smitten he is, no matter how much he "manifested her" or the fact she's Taylor Swift. A man will cheat regardless. I'm tired of people using these kind of arguments. Beyonce got cheated on, Taylor has been cheated on before, Lisa Bonet is absolutely stunning and she got cheated on. Plenty of other gorgeous and sucessful women have and do get cheated on. It means nothing.

Anyways, idk if he cheated or not. I mean I hope not cause no one deserves that but, regardless it is mad weird he has time off right now and left Taylor after a few days to go to LA then as soon as news spread from D.M that he was there and hiding from paps and insinuated to be cheating he suddenly appears back at Taylor's side IMMEDIATELY. Not saying that makes him guilty but, it sure seems like a scramble of a PR move.

[cardentist]

I haven’t been in the star trek fandom for very long (I’ve only just started binging the series in the last couple months), so it’s been pretty surprising to find out just how negative the perception of the reboot movies are.

this isn’t coming from the perspective of someone who grew up with the series, so it hit different for me than it might for people with a different relationship to TOS, but I thought it was genuinely clever and Respectful with how it was handled.

To quote leonard nimoy: “Well the alternative timeline gives them license to escape from canon concerns. I can’t see people saying ‘they shouldn’t do that because…’ or ‘that doesn’t tie in to such and such’ because it is a different time and place. Am I right about that?” [Link]

the entire Premise is that the original series happened as it was presented in TOS, but an event late in Spock’s life caused the creation of a parallel universe in which everyone’s lives were significantly altered through two key changes to the timeline. this gives them the freedom to Both revel in fanservice And explore different facets of the characters and their relationships. 

the destruction of vulcan Vastly impacts the characters and the plot moving forward, and its a detail that a lot of people take issue with. but the emotional impact of sarek admitting Directly to spock that there is value in his humanity, that his feelings Aren’t wrong, that sarek married amanda because he Loved her cannot be understated. you can read all of these things into sarek as he was in the original series, but he Never had an open conversation about these things with spock. this creates a Believable and Rewarding change in their relationship, where we get to see a different facet of them Because of the changes made. and that’s exactly the appeal. showing us pieces of these characters that we never got in TOS that are nevertheless undeniably Them.

everyone is Different yes, but they’re also fundamentally the same people at their core and that matters.

kirk’s personality obviously takes the biggest change, with him experiencing trauma at a young age, losing his father, and having an implied abusive father figure after that point. he has a harsher personality in reaction to harsher conditions, he’s spikier and harder to love. but he’s also still fundamentally a Good person whose willing to risk everything to help people. he still has what made kirk prime a good captain and a good friend.

I’m not gonna say that it’s the most nuanced story in the world, but it explores a version of kirk that was born from even Less fortunate circumstances than kirk prime, exploring a kirk brimming with potential who learned to bite back after he was kicked down. exploring those themes of trauma and loss, of insecurity and growth, and coming to the conclusion that Fundamentally He Is Capable Of Good isn’t a Bad thing. you don’t have to like it, but his growth into a better person is The Point. they deepened his flaws (all of which were present in a less exaggerated form in TOS) To Show That Growth.

and then of course there’s his relationship with spock.

people are totally justified in not liking that they had a rough start to their relationship, I usually don’t like to see that kind of thing in reboots or hollywood adaptations either, but the way people talk about it is just unfair.

Yes kirk and spock and bones have a very strong relationship in TOS, they also already know each other by the time the show starts. to look at them having to learn to get to know and trust each other when they first meet and say that it’s Bad because they were already full on ride or die for each other in the og series is silly. TOS kirk and spock had to meet and fall in love with each other too, it didn’t just happen over night kings.

secondly, the entire point of the first movie is that Even With reality itself being altered to pull them apart they are fundamentally compatible people that are Bound to each other. they meet each other on bad terms because of circumstances outside of their control, and yet they’re still pulled into each other’s orbit and find the other slotting into place next to them as if they always belonged. one of the first things that spock prime says in the movie is “I am and always will be your friend,” spock and jim are Meant for each other and the movie goes out of its way to explain that. which is what makes it so Weird to see people complaining about how they don’t like each other.

it’s a Different relationship, but it’s absolutely no less steeped in yearning or queer subtext. 

speaking of queer subtext ! some people are Very unhappy with spock’s relationship with uhura.

first thing I wanna say is that making the argument that they’re doing anything that the original series hasn’t done is just, completely untrue. kirk has fallen in love with more girls in the og series than he knew what to do with, leonard nimoy was a heartthrob in his time (and he deserves it, awooga) and spock reflects that ! Spock usually turns the women who come onto him down (or when he doesn’t it’s because a plant has literally altered his mind), but there are exceptions to even that. all of three of the main boys have plenty of romance subplots, it happens. if that takes the possibility of them being queer off the table for you (which it shouldn’t, m-spec people exist) then I’m sorry to say that TOS is not exempt.

now, I can understand why Specifically This Relationship could rub people the wrong way or being disappointed that they didn’t outright depict kirk and spock as having a relationship (if not in the first movie then in the following ones after they’ve gotten to know each other), but even in that context the way I’ve seen people talk about it comes off as insensitive.

no, the relationship did not come out of nowhere. they considered having spock and uhura date each other in the original show (and you can see signs of this in the earlier episodes, where uhura very obviously flirts with him and they spend time together in their down time) before they decided against it, and spock was originally going to kiss uhura until shatner insisted that he wanted to do it (because it was the first interracial kiss on tv). [Link 1, Link 2, Link 3]

nichelle nichols was asked about this exact thing (spock and uhura’s relationship in the movie), you can read the interview in full here [Link] but I’d like to highlight this paragraph in particular:

“Now, go back to my participation in Star Trek as Uhura and Leonard (Nimoy) as Spock. There was always a connection between Uhura and Spock. It was the early 60’s, so you couldn’t do what you can do now, but if you will remember, Uhura related to Spock. When she saw the captain lost in space out there in her mirror, it was Spock who consoled her when she went screaming out of her room. When Spock needed an expert to help save the ship, you remember that Uhura put something together and related back to him the famous words, “I don’t know if I can do this. I’m afraid.” And Uhura was the only one who could do a spoof on Spock. Remember the song (in “Charlie X”)? Those were the hints, as far as I’m concerned.”

the film makers looked at the fact there were Hints for uhura and spock, that they were Interested in exploring an interracial couple for the first time (both before and immediately after interracial couples won the right to legally get married) but Couldn’t because of the circumstances of the times and decided to Make that depiction. you don’t have to Like their relationship just because of that fact, but it’s Incredibly reductive to play down it’s significance as just a No Homo cop out. explicitly queer relationships are not the only progressive or culturally important relationships in fiction.

moreover, if you can’t imagine polyamory in the communist utopian future that’s on you.

moreover, this perception that this was a soulless cash grab is just, unfounded.

leonard nimoy returned to the role as spock for the first time in 16 years (since 1991) and this was Entirely because of the respect they had for nimoy, spock as a character, and the franchise as a whole. 

Lets look at some quotes from nimoy in interviews regarding the film:

Leonard Nimoy: When I first read the script (...) I immediately contacted J.J. and said “I think it is terrific…I think you guys have done a wonderful job. There is still work to be done, but it is very clear that you and your writers know what you are doing and you know how to do this movie and know what it should be about….and I am very interested.” Then as time went by we worked things out with Paramount, but the most important things were J.J. and the script. (...) I am very pleased about that and I am very comfortable with where this is going. I think the writers have done a terrific job. They have a real sense of the characters and the heart of Star Trek and what it is really all about.

(...)

TrekMovie.com: Now in the case of the new movie you have been retired from acting for years. What was it about this one that made you want to act again and go through the make up again? What was it that made you say ‘I really want to do this?’

Leonard Nimoy: You are right, this is a special situation. First it is Star Trek and so I have to pay attention. I owe that to Star Trek. Second place is that it is J.J. Abrams who I think very highly of, he is a very talented guy. Then came the script and it was very clear that I could make a contribution here. The Spock character that I am playing, the original Spock character, is essential and important to the script. So on the basis of those three elements it was easy to make the decision. So those three things: Star Trek, J.J. Abrams, and an interesting Spock role.

[Link]

Praising the cast playing younger versions of characters from the original 1960s TV series, he [Leonard Nimoy] said: “Let me take the opportunity to say this. Everybody at this table [the cast] are very, very talented and intelligent people.”

“They found their own way to bring that talent and intelligence to this movie, and I think it shows. (...)  When Karl Urban introduced himself as Leonard McCoy and shook hands with Chris Pine, I burst into tears. That performance of his is so moving, so touching and so powerful as Doctor McCoy, that I think D. Kelley would be smiling, and maybe in tears as well.”

“The makers of this film reawakened the passion in me that I had when we made the original film and series. I was put back in touch with what I cared about and liked about Star Trek, and why I enjoyed being involved with Star Trek. So, it was an easy way to come on home.”

“[In this Star Trek] they said things and showed me things, and demonstrated the sensibility that I felt very comfortable with, and I think that shows in the movie. I like it.”

[Link 1, Link 2]

again, you don’t have to like it just because leonard nimoy did, you don’t have to Agree. but the idea that nobody working on the film Cared is provably false. near everyone working on the project was already a fan of the series or were excited to be involved and did their homework. it’s genuinely a Miracle just how much of a labor of love this was, and in my opinion you can feel that through the movie itself. I’d highly recommend looking into interviews and behind the scenes details about the movies. they had a respect not just for the source material, but for leonard nimoy as a person.

there’s definitely more I Could say about this, but it’s 4 am now so I’m gonna shelve it jklfdsa

that said! it’s Fine to not like the movie, not everything is going to be suited to everyone’s taste, but the specific criticisms I’ve seen feel very off base

[docholligay]

Tracer/Emily “on a scar”

Talk about stuff I've meant to write for ages, this moment is finally out in the world. ANYWAY THANK YOU 1600ish words, all of my OW universe is here.

Tracer kissed her shoulder.

It should have felt good. She wanted it to feel good. She was incredibly attracted to Tracer, who had been a perfect lady over the past few weeks. Tracer, who was handsome and charming and gallant, who had treated her to dinner and walks in the park and made her laugh with all her stories, brought her flowers and told her she looked wonderful in purple, who had never invited herself up even though her eyes clearly wanted to be invited up.

But instead, there was a sort of deep grim that lapped at the corner of her mind. Emily was not good with women. She wasn’t good with anyone really, over the age of six, she thought, quiet and shy and awkward, the way she’s been all of her life. She wanted this, and she was afraid of it. She was not a casual person. Sometimes she wished she were.

The hard part, for Emily, was knowing when to tell someone. When she had been younger, it had been easy to blame her being trans for every ounce of hesitation she felt in a public setting, for every stumble through a conversation, and every bad date where her calls were never returned. It some ways, it had made things easier, to know that there was an immutable reason for such things, but life is rarely so kind, and she had met so many other women like her who glittered and had full dance cards, who lived life loudly.

So her own hated timidness had to, at least in some capacity, be an organic consequence of being Emily McNair, rather than anything else. It was disappointing.

But because she was Emily McNair, and because she had no idea of what it meant to be casual, and because she, like the silly fool that she was, was dangerously close to being truly in love with Tracer, she had to tell her. She wanted to tell her. Because if she was going to love Tracer, she had to know that Tracer could love all of her, even her history.

She tried not to expect too much of people in that vein.

“Em?” Tracer pulled away from her, ‘Can’t ‘elp but notice you don’t seem particularly engaged. You,” she seemed disappointed, “you not want to?”

“Oh, Lena, I do, but it’s only..” She tucked her hair behind her ear, “I have to speak to you, first.”

Her eyes darted around the room. “What ‘ave I done? Or not done?”

“No, no, of course no. It’s only me.”

“Alright. All ears.”

Emily was sure there had to be a perfect way of doing this, but over the twenty odd years of her life, she had never quite found it. Words were, most people would agree, not Emily’s strong suit, and generally she was as content to listen to others talk as they were. The handful of times she had gotten far enough to want to tell someone, it had never come out the way she’d imagined, and as Tracer looked at her, she realized that new and better speech she kept planning wasn’t going to reveal itself this time either.

“I’m trans. I just--thought you should know, before.” She swallowed and looked off to the side, waiting.

Tracer rocked back on her heels and looked at Emily.

“Is that all? Doesn’t matter, I don’t care about that,” she stopped for a moment, “Sorry. You know,” she tilted her head quickly and leaned forward, trying to put herself back into Emily’s gaze, “it’s just now occurred to me why me Dad put it that way when I told ‘im I was gay, can’t really think of a better way to say it--suppose it didn’t urt that ‘e wasn’t the slightest bit surprised by the news--but wasn’t helpful to me then either.” She took Emily’s hand. “Thank you for telling me. I feel all the same about you as I did. I think you are absolutely beautiful, and I cannot believe me luck, sitting on the sofa with you. You ‘ave no reason to be shy with me. Still buzzing about being invited up, love.”

Emily let her shoulders relax a little. “I’m shy with everyone.”

“I ‘ope sincerely that it’s not that people ‘ave been cruel to you.”

“Not, I think I’m just a bit awkward, I mean,” Emily shook her head. “Most people haven’t known since I left school. But I don’t much,” she fiddled with the strap of her dress, “you know, see women.”

Tracer smiled. “Right. Let me show you something.”

She slipped her shirt off under her CA with a speed and grace Emily would not have guessed was possible, leaving only her CA and a sports bra. The first thing she noticed were the bright toucans on Tracer’s bra. The second thing she noticed was that Tracer was as spectacularly toned as she might have guessed given her quick strength, and she blushed.

The third thing she noticed were two deep and heavily puckered scars, right at the edge of her rib cage. Her eyes widened and she brought a hand to her mouth, without thinking, and then immediately realized Tracer must be seeing her, after being so kind to Emily, showing shock, and she might think it was disgust--

But Tracer gave that loud peal of a laugh that Emily loved so much. “I know! Terrible, innit? Man shot me.” She scowled a moment. “Thought ‘e was me friend, once upon a time, but ‘e did disabuse me of that notion, as Fareeha put it, you know, love, for all the times she pretends she doesn’t understand a bloody thing I’m saying she manages to put up quite the English vocabulary when it suits her, right? Right, absolute tosh--listen to me waffling on, me Dad always said I could talk for England--what I mean is, love, you ain’t the only one with a thing or two unusual. Say nothing about the machinery. I’m loads of things to get used to, right? So you and I are of a kind. Me more than you, even, ‘ave no doubt you look better with your clothes off than me, if you don’t mind me saying so, right? So you never need be shy with me, for I’ll always do me best. I ‘ave no doubt that I will say or do something unbelievably bloody stupid, and when that happens, I want you to say, ‘Lena, you bloody stupid cunt,” Emily laughed and shook her head, “--No love, I’m being very serious just now--Lena, don’t do that” and then I won’t.”

Emily looked at her. Tracer’s eyes were bright and sparkling, but full of sincerity. Even now, she had that little resting smile on her face that Emily had come to realize just sat there, as unhappiness did on others. There was something about Tracer that drew Emily in, that made her feel safe, and suddenly it felt true, that someone like Tracer could not mind. Suddenly it seemed silly to Emily that anyone had ever minded at all. She had so many explanations planned out, ways to make it okay for Tracer and assure her that there wasn’t much different about Emily, but it all seemed completely unnecessary in the moment.

She had been honest, when she said she didn’t care.

Emily reached her hand out and brushed her fingertips against the deep crater on Tracer’s stomach, and Tracer did not flinch away from her touch, even for a moment.

“It must have hurt terribly.”

Tracer shook her head. “You know, actually, I lost a great deal of blood very quickly, which doesn’t necessarily recommend itself but I will say made the pain a bit of a non-issue.” She laughed again. “Honestly, Winston’s more traumatized by it than I am, I only remember little bits of the thing. Lost some of me liver though, and I am sore about that, as I make quite a bit of use of it,” she looked down, “ as you can see by the fact that I lack a bit in the definition department.”

“You’re very handsome, Lena.” Emily said, still looking at the scar, unable to look Tracer in the eye when she said it.

“Well, you’re kind to say so.” Tracer put her hand on top of Emily’s. “I still am keen to root about the cabbages, so to speak, and I want you to know I won’t be put off so easily in future,” she grinned, “but if you’d rather not tonight, I understand that, as well.”

“Oh, but I don’t want you to go!”

Tracer took Emily by the shoulders. “I can stay then, love. ‘Appy to ‘ear it. Can stay all night, if you like. But we don’t ‘ave to do nothing.”

Emily leaned forward and put her head on Tracer’s shoulder, letting herself fall into her embrace. Tracer kissed her forehead.

“We can stay just like this, love.”

I love you, she wanted to say, I love you, and I feel excited and happy and utterly terrified at the fact. But, she reasoned, she had tripped over her own tongue enough for one evening, and in this moment, she thought she would have plenty of other chances. Tracer would stay. She kissed Tracer’s cheek and settled into her arms as Tracer laid back against the couch.

“You know, the scars aren’t even the worst of it, with me. ‘Ardware neither.”

“Oh?”

“Right, there’s the entirety of me personality to deal with, as well. Messy. Can’t pay attention to save me own life, sometimes quite literally, depending on who you ask. Touch of P--well, honestly, just ask Fareeha, when you meet her, she’s got a list of me negative qualities, I think. Probably alphabetized. Maybe categorical.”

Emily felt herself melt into Tracer and allowed herself the joy of a laugh.

The cool wind of October shook the trees outside, and litter blew along the street next to her shabby little London flat, and Emily had never been happier.

[forzalando]

The Perfect Arrangement | George Weasley | Pt. 1

Pairing: George Weasley x F!Reader AU: Bridgerton!AU Word Count: 2.1k Warnings: Bridgerton spoilers, mentions of alcohol

Summary: As a woman in the early 19th century, you’ve been told all your life that marriage should be your ultimate goal, however, you do not share that sentiment. When the insufferable George Weasley devises a plan that may solve your problems, how can you say no?

A/N: hi friends! this will be a multipart (probably 3-4 parts) George fic inspired by Bridgerton. i’m so excited for it and i hope you all are too :) thank you for reading!

The start of the social season had been, as you had expected, the topic of conversation around the ton for the past few weeks. It was impossible to go anywhere without hearing whispers of who would snag an engagement in the next few months.

Particularly, people had been interested in who the Queen would declare the “diamond of the season”. Your mother was positively convinced it would be you, but you had other plans in mind for your life other than parties and dresses and loveless marriage. However, when the Queen took one look upon your face, she quickly declared you incomparable, as she had done the same for Daphne Bridgerton, now the Duchess, a few years prior, and your fate was sealed.

As a member of the distinguished and esteemed Y/L/N family, and as the eldest daughter, you had a trivial, yet necessary and important role to play, even if you longed to free yourself from it. Your mother and father, as wonderful as they might be, had high expectations for you, and you would not and could not let them down.

Your mother fluffed your hair and primped your dress in preparation of the Danbury Ball, admiring you fondly and gushing about how beautiful you looked.

“Maybe your luck will be as wonderful as the Duchess, her love match was indeed unprecedented but oh so joyous. Do you think your fortune might align with hers, dear?”

“Mama,” you sighed. “I have no interest in a life like the Duchess’s. All the parties, teas, and properness. Besides, there isn’t another Duke for me to marry.”

“I did not mean that you would have to marry a Duke to share her fate; only that you may marry for love.”

You huffed as you turned away from the mirror. In truth, you had no interest in marrying for love, or marrying at all for that matter, but the duty of an eldest daughter was set in stone.

All too soon, you arrived at the Lady Danbury’s spectacular first ball of the season; the sea of gowns and tailored coats causing a queasy feeling to settle in your stomach, and you wished with all your might that anything at all would ruin the festivities.

A glass of champagne was placed in your grasp and you let your eyes wander around the room; Lady Eloise Bridgerton, a close friend of yours, donned a similar look on her face though her mother enthusiastically tried to get her to waltz across the dance floor.

Glancing to your left, you noticed Lord Farley, a rather grotesque older man, eyeing you up and down; his beady eyes causing the queasy feeling to return and for your feet to take off in what could almost be considered a sprint.

When he was no longer in your line of sight, you began to slow down your gait, but a shoulder roughly bumped into yours and an unattractive yelp escaped your lips.

The unmistakable chuckle that followed your outburst made you groan due to your detestation of the man you knew you had bumped into.

Lord George Weasley; a man, nay, a boy, with hair of fire and a wit to match. You had known him for years as you were the same age and his sister Ginevra was the best of friends with your younger sister.

“I want to believe, Miss Y/L/N, that you would not take such drastic measures to capture my attention, but I must say I am flattered nonetheless,” George teased, his hand reaching out to steady you as you recovered from the collision.

“Mr. Weasley, I believe you to know me better than that,” you spoke with gritted teeth as you swatted his hand away. “Besides, there are plenty of young women here that would kiss the ground you walk on. Might you bother them instead?”

“Ah, but where is the fun in that? I’ve noticed that you still have room on your dance card?”

“I always have room left on my dance card.”

You tried to step around George and escape his company, but his impossible height made it so easy for him to evade your attempts.

“Is that by choice or because you’re just so pleasant to spend time with?” he inquired with a smirk.

“Suppose a bit of both. Now, if you would be so kind, I’m quite parched and would love another glass of champagne.”

“Perfect, I shall accompany you.”

George Weasley, you surmised very early on, was nothing but a flirt. You wouldn’t go so far as to call him a rake, because as far as you knew he was an honorable man, but he was also most intolerable with his boyish charm, sense of humor, beautiful eyes…

Yes, you were quite sure that he was entirely intolerable.

“Have you told your mother you have no interest in procuring a husband, yet?” he mused, breaking you out of your trance as he carefully handed you a glass of champagne.

“Don’t call it procuring as if it’s a transaction. And no, I haven’t. Do you think I’d be standing here alive if I had?”

“Good point,” George hummed as his eyes surveyed the room, no doubt searching for the next woman so unlucky enough to be graced with his presence.

“How is your family?” you asked as you sipped on your flute of bubbling liquid.

“They’re doing well, thank you for asking. Work has been a bit hard on Dad but – ”

Before George could finish, a man approached you and bowed; taking the hand not holding the champagne flute and pressing a kiss to your knuckles.

“Miss Y/L/N, would you like to join me for a dance?”

You noticed George looking on angrily at the sight before him, probably because his ego couldn’t take the interruption.

“I’m flattered, Lord Rainier? I believe?” When you received no objections, you continued. “As I was saying, I’m flattered by your offer but I simply must decline. I am feeling a bit ill and all that spinning might make me sick.”

“Yes, yes, of course, Miss Y/L/N. Perhaps another time?”

You gave him a small, soft smile and let out a sigh of relief when he walked away. Turning back to George, you urged him to continue. While you held him in contempt, or so you told yourself, you did enjoy his family as they were all simply lovely.

“You were saying, George?”

“Right, work has been a bit hard on Dad, after his accident a few months ago. He’s been doing better but Charlie had to take a break from his travels to come home and help out since he’s the eldest. Fred and Angelina are expecting again, if you haven’t heard. They’re hoping for a girl this time.”

“Maybe if you were more like your brother you’d be married and having children by now,” you teased.

He gasped and clutched his hand over his heart, drawing the attention of anyone near.

“You wound me, Y/N.”

Much to your dismay, you laughed at his actions, devastated that you gave him the satisfaction of knowing he was entertaining you. However, the moment was short lived as another man interrupted your conversation.

“Miss Y/N, I must say you are looking exquisite this evening. It would be a shame for your dress not to take a twirl on the dance floor. Might I accompany you?”

You tried not to groan when you noticed a line forming behind the man currently asking for a dance.

“Actually, Lord Beverly, I’m feeling a bit warm. I was just about to go outside for some fresh air.”

“I shall accompany you, then.”

“Without a chaperone? Goodness, no, please find another young lady to dance with. There are certainly many that would be delighted at the chance.”

You looked around Lord Beverly to see at least four other men waiting for their chance to ask you for a dance, and the thought of making up more excuses made your head spin. You graciously bid Lord Beverly a good evening, and turned on your heel towards the nearest exit.

In your haste, you did not notice George following you into the gardens.

“Well, you sure like to let them down easy,” he joked.

“George!” you cried. “We can’t be seen alone, are you daft? Trying to ruin me and my family?”

“Calm yourself, my Mother is just right there.”

You looked a bit to George’s left and saw his wonderful mother keeping a careful eye on the two of you, graciously leaving the attention of her husband to ensure that none would suspect foolery between you and George.

“As I was saying, it’s awfully obvious that you do not want any man to court you. Your mother will realize well and soon enough of your…aversion to marriage.”

“The only reason you know that is because you eavesdropped on a conversation I had with Eloise. But yes, I have no desire to marry, and I’m quite certain I never will. I’ll have to fight off suitors and think of a million excuses until I’m considered a spinster and men no longer want me.”

Silence enveloped you both as a tear slid down your cheek. You hastily wiped it away, hoping that George hadn’t seen, but of course, you were not so lucky.

“Is the idea of marriage really that upsetting to you, Y/N?”

“All those men, all they want is a woman to wear on their arm and to give them children. That’s what a woman’s life is in marriage. A husband doesn’t care about his wife’s passions, desires, intellect, among other things, and I can’t bring myself to entertain the idea of a life that has no room for my happiness.”

George was quiet; pondering your response and your feelings, when he was suddenly struck with the most brilliant of ideas.

You see, Mr. George Weasley was in love with Miss Y/N Y/L/N, has been for several years in fact. He couldn’t tell you exactly when or why, but he knew that the fluttering in his chest and the way his whole world became brighter when she entered a room meant that Y/N was more than just someone to engage in friendly banter with.

“I’ve thought of an idea,” George muttered, piquing your interest.

“Whatever might it be, Mr. Weasley?”

“Your…situation, can only go away if men were to believe you were taken, correct?”

“Yes, I suppose, only I can’t fool them into thinking that. It would become quite suspicious when I’m seen alone everywhere. And, there’s no way I could ever fool my parents.”

“Except you wouldn’t be alone, you’d have me!”

“I don’t believe I’m following your idea, George.”

“Marry me.”

You choked and sputtered on your own spit, unable to take a breath through your coughs and gasps. George’s hands flew to your shoulders to steady you, helping you to breathe easier and calm yourself down.

“George, you must be joking,” you said quietly.

“I am as deadly serious as I could ever be. Not a real marriage, of course. Real in every sense of the word in terms of legality, but not real as in, well, us together. I’ll spend this social season courting you, and at the end of the season I’ll propose. We’ll get married in a few months’ time, and then we can travel the world, doing whatever our hearts desire.”

“Why on earth would you want to marry me?”

“It’s quite simple. You need to get the eligible bachelors of the ton to leave you alone and you never want to marry because your husband would restrict your freedoms. I, as your husband, wouldn’t dare. You’re not entirely awful, I suppose there are far worse people to spend my life with, even if you utterly despise me, and marriage, real marriage, isn’t something I want either.”

You looked at him quizzically, searching for signs that he’d had far too much champagne or had gone completely mad in the head, but he looked right as rain, and your mind was spinning.

“I find it hard to believe you do not want to marry, after all the times you’ve said you cannot wait to marry the woman you love.”

“Honestly, the woman I love is….unattainable, I’ll put it that way. I won’t ever love anyone but her. I’m also waiting for an answer, it’s not every day you have to have a discussion after a proposal.”

“You’re sure this will work, Mr. Weasley?”

“How hard can it be to pretend to be in love with a woman as beautiful as you?”

“I always knew you were a flirt, but God, do you lay it on thick.”

George looked at you expectantly, almost a glimmer of hope is his eye, but as quickly as you thought you’d noticed it, he looked away.

“My answer is yes, George. Let’s fool the ton, our families, court, get married, and then travel the world platonically.”

“That sounds like the perfect arrangement, darling.”

@theweasleyslut @vivacesole @weasleyclaw @nuttytani-reblogs @theweasleysredhair @hufflepuffbaby9 @theboywhocriedlupin @swellwriting @fortisfiliae @thoseofgreatambition @woakiees @wildfire-whizbangs @gcdric

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[another-stark-sub]

Arii, i missed ya! 💓💓

for SS what about age gap+ reader teasing tony+ crotchless panties and high knee socks? please 🥵🥺🙈

There wasn't much good when Tony was away. Usually, that's when the paps swooped down and found pictures of Tony with oyher women or you with an Avenger. At first, it sucked. You and Tony had to constantly support each other through insecurities, doubts, and rumors. And you hated it.

Ever the optimist, you found a way to make it better. Because whenever Tony left for more than two weeks, you prepared surprises for each other. Exotic foods, rare jewelry, authentic art. Maybe a home-cooked meal, a welcome home get together, a picnic on the top of Stark Tower.

But after a new line of lingerie got released and the lingering memory of Tony pulling up your knee-high socks as he fucked you, you were preparing for a different kind of surprise.

"Misses, Mr. Stark is calling."

You looked at the time. You had maybe 10 minutes. "Put him through, please, Jay." Quickly, you pulled a pink, see-through robe over your mostly, bare body.

"Of course, ma'am."

"Hi, sweetheart. 'M almost home, uh, are you holding up?"

You hummed as you took an elevator down to the garage. "Mostly well. Been missing you mostly. How's the trip?"

"Aw, you missed me."

You were too busy looking for the perfect place to be found in the garage to roll your eyes. You spotted one of the taller cars near the back. Perfect to hide behind. "Oh please, I'm sure plenty of girls my age missed seeing your instagram posts." Jarvis brought up his profile for you. You leaned against a car and scrolled through. The latest post was dated three weeks before, a picture of your boyfriend in a striped tux. It wasn't formal though. No, the shirt was unbuttoned, and his chest exposed. The pants must've been loose, too, because it hung off his hips and revealed so much skin. You licked your lips. "Mr. Sexiest Man Alive."

He laughed. "It sounds like you miss a certain part of me, sweetheart."

"Maybe?" You dismissed the holograms and closed your eyes. "Are you saying I wasn't missed, Tony?" Lightly, slowly, you dragged your fingers up your thighs.

"Mm, not saying that." You could almost see him lick his lips. "Not at all. Completely unrelated, what're you wearing right now?"

You laughed and traced patterns over your robe, ticking your skin. "And ruin your surprise?"

"My surprise? Oh." You could the giddiness in his voice. "My surprise, huh? What color? Position?"

"You'll have to get here to find out." You called, "Jay, hang up for me, please." You flicked your nipples, letting out a gasp for Tony to drink in.

"Jarvis, don't you-"

You took a deep breath. "Thanks, Jay."

"Anytime, ma'am. I should inform you, Mr. Stark's ETA has changed."

"Eight minutes?"

"No. Two minutes."

You laughed. "Thanks for telling me." When the AI's presence disappeared, you gave into your touch. You didn't want to get too worked up. The present was the new panties after all. Can't ruin them before Tony. Instead, you just trailed your fingers up and down every inch of your own skin, pinching and flicking any sensitive skin. You felt relaxed, warm, pliable.

Light streamed in. Tires screeched. Iron Man thrusters whirred, and then footsteps nearing you.

Just knowing Tony was approaching forced a gasp out of you.

The heavy footfalls became purposeful and, from your peripheral vision, you saw him. Sweatpants and t-shirt, sunglasses, and retreating nanotech into his watch. He removed his glasses and raised his eyebrows.

You smiled at him, your hands still groping your own skin. "Hi."

"Hello yourself." He licked his lips.

Tony took your hands off your body, pulled you unto his arms and then pinned you to the wall. His gaze went from your exposed tits to the panties to your tummy to your thighs. "Best fucking present ever."

You knew what the he wanted. He knew what you wanted. Sometimes, things like this were just that easy.

With award-winning coordination, he pushed your robe off. You tugged his shirt off and pushed his sweatpants down. Tony shimmied out of his sweatpants and underwear and hooks your leg over his hip. By the time your fingers were tangled in his hair, he was grinding his semi into your bare center.

You kissed him, and god, having the entire length of him against the entire length of you was addicting. How did you live without this for two weeks?

"God, I missed you."

You laughed. "No need to call me, God, sweetheart." You spoke against his lips. "The love of your life will do, though."

He scoffed. Tony pressed himself against you, flattening you against the cold wall and effectively making you squirm. "Well then, love of my life" -he mouthed kisses on your neck- "you gonna show me how much you missed me?" He pulled the hem of your sock and snapped it against your thigh.

You tried to rock your hips against his, but Tony was a superhero for a reason. You could never break his grip. No matter how good it would feel if you did. You whined. "Please, Tony?"

"Did you miss me?"

You pouted. "Yes."

He smiled and kissed you again, letting his lips linger. "Good girl."

For a second, he wasn't pressed up against you, and then the next, he was thrusting into you. The sudden change from being empty to being full and having Tony's lips attached to your neck. You managed to squeal as you processed what was happening.

"Look at you," Tony muttered against your skin. His hand gripped your thigh, while his eyes wandered to the place where his cock met your cunt. "Fucking hell, my girl's such a good fuck, huh?"

You nodded, the moans you let out the only verbal agreement.

"And getting all ready for me?"

"Planned it all." You gulped and tried to form words, but you could only say, "For you."

Tony's smile turned downright sinful. "All mine."

You nodded. "Mhm."

The slaps of his skin on yours and the slipperiness between your thigh only added to all the pleasure Tony was giving you, over and over and over-

"Give it to me, sweetheart." His whispers in your ear sounded like a devil on your shoulder. "Cum on my cock. I wanna see my girl fall apart." Tony kissed your cheek and neck. "Cum for me, darling."

You moaned, wrapping yourself tighter and tighter around him. Tony didn't stop. In fact, as you came down, you picked up on everything. The ridges of his cock going in and out of you. His fingers gripping your thigh, the sock's cotton digging into your skin. His grunts and moans against your ear.

You hung onto him. "Missed you so much, love. Felt so empty without you here. Please, i need your cum, Tony. I want to feel it inside me. Please. For me?"

With that, a high-pitched groan escaped him as his hips stuttered and his arms pulled you closer to him. And his dazed expression as he reached his high. Maybe he had cameras in here. You wouldn't mind saving a picture of that for yourself.

With a dopey grin, you brushed the messy hair out of his face and watched as Tony slowly came back to you. "Hi," you said.

Tony laughed. "Hello yourself." He nudged his nose against yours. "So, can you get another pair of these." He looked down at your ensemble. "You look amazing."

You giggled. "Of course."

[twistnet]

nsfw alphabet [ joel miller ]

⋯ WARNINGS ; gn!reader + smut [ oral sex, cum, kinks, masturbation ]

⋯ DISCLAIMER ; if you are under the age of 18, do not read [ nsfw content under cut ] this content is strictly for those 18+ ; any minors // ageless // blank blogs interacting with this post will be blocked

a = aftercare [ what they’re like after sex ]

it takes some time before joel gets around to aftercare. he likes to revel in the moment and just take a quicker breather with you still in his grasp. during this time, he’ll press few lingering kisses to your skin before he gets up, bring you with him toward the bathroom to get the two of you cleaned up.

whether you take a shower together or just get cleaned up with a wash cloth, it doesn’t really matter, just depends on the mood you’re in. if you’re just heading back to bed, he’ll take you back just as you are. but it it’s a early morning session, he’ll bring some clothes in for you to get dressed before your day starts

b = body part [ their favorite body part of theirs, and also their partner’s ]

himself -- a given are his hands. he can do alot with them, from carrying various weapons to his hobby of woodcraving. he does, at first, become a little self conscious of just how rough they are and tries to keep from being to rough with you, almost shying away from your touch. it’s most likely not until you say something to him about how much you enjoy his touch that he’s gonna open up.

you -- the first thing joel is gonna most likely notice, is the way you hold yourself. he’ll see the strength you carry and how you use it to get through your patrols or runs for supplies in the neighboring towns. from there, he’s gonna notice more of your features, feeling himself drawn more toward your eyes as they are his gate to everything you’re feeling in that given moment. 

c = cum [ anything to do with cum basically…i’m a disgusting person ]

joel has always made sure that a condom was available, given the world he currently lives in, there are no forms of protection aside from just trying to be as careful as possible. he does make a habit of pulling out, as it’s a risk and would rather talk to you about it before he does anything you don’t want. 

if he’s in a more established relationship, like he’s married to you, it make be a different story. but for now, he’s gonna play it stuff until you say anything or your relationship changes.

d = dirty secret [ pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs ]

this was something he hadn’t ever realized, but he does enjoy watching you dance. sometimes dina will manage to pull you to the floor when some younger hiphop songs comes on during dance night. there could be nothing sexual about it but it’s the fact that his eyes are glued to your ass makes him tight in the pants.

e = experience [ how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing? ]

i feel like joel has some experience under his belt. his younger years were probably filled with plenty of women, including the time he had with his first wife. even after the outbreak, i feel like he and tess hooked up a few times over the course of them working together but it was more of a means to an end and it was simply for a release of tension, nothing more. so he knows what he’s doing.

f = favorite position [ this goes without saying ]

no preference -- joel most likely is gonna be good with whatever position that works for the two of you. meaning, he really has no preference, just wants it to be comfortable. he would prefer a position where he could see your face, but will do just about any position.

g = goofy [ are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc ]

joel is more goofy outside of the bedroom. he likes cracks jokes and teases to get you riled up before taking you to bed. he wants to take all sexual acts quite seriously, just in the event he or you don’t like something that is going on. there needs to be a clear boundary so nothing is taken as a joke when either says ‘stop’ or ‘wait’

h = hair [ how well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc ]

prior to the outbreak, joel tried to keep things pretty clean. it was more to impress and a ‘i put in the work to clean up before i got into bed with someone’, but he had no preference one way or the other. he also didn’t expect his partner to recuperate. he doesn’t expect someone to shave for him if they don’t want to. post outbreak, that was all kinda thrown out the window. he couldn’t care less.

i = intimacy [ how are they during the moment, romantic aspect… ]

he has quite the romantic side when it comes to impressing you. if he’s given the time to prepare, he likes to cook a good meal, set with alcohol and some light smooching. once bellies are full, he likes to pull out some of the old dvds jackson has found on various runs. it’s not long into the movie before you’re all over each other. he likes to take his time and let you and him get lost in the moment. enjoy each other with some passionate love making

j = jack off [ masturbation headcanon ]

when joel was younger, he would have most likely gotten himself off. however, times have changed and so has his body. he doesn’t have many of the urges he use to. that being said, if he does get a little tight in the jeans, he just waits until he get some time alone with him rather than take care of it himself. he also finds that the time he does pop a tent is in the most unneeded moments so he really can’t stop and just take care of it because you just so happen to be wearing the jeans he likes.

k = kink [ one or more of their kinks ]

dominance -- usually comes out when the frustration is high and he just needs to relieve some tension that has build up. he will tell you what to do, moving you if you are too slow to comply with his request and will get quite stern with you if there’s even the slightly of backtalk or brattiness. of course, any form of punishment is talked about before hand so no boundaries are crossed. he will constantly check in with you to make sure everything is good on your end

l = location [ favorite places to do the do ]

his house is his safe place. he’s not really gonna want to stray too far from that space and run any risk. sure, he’s gotten handsy with you in the small like alley behind the dance hall but it’s never gone any further than some groping and grinding. he always takes you back to his place or yours. he feels like you deserve more than some quick fuck in a dark alley.

m = motivation [ what turns them on, gets them going ]

it doesn’t take much to get joel all riled up. just about anything can get him in the mood. he tends to try and keep his cool whenever you are around him, allowing you to make any of the first moves indicating what you want to the night to end with. so it really doesn’t take much. joel is also one to just sit back and admire you from afar.

n = no [ something they wouldn’t do, turn offs ]

while joel is willing to work with the things you want to try out, he has some rules/morals he wishes to abide by. he completely draws the line at bringing any harm to you, physically and mentally. this means if the place isn’t jackson then it’s already a no. joel’s main concern is just your safety, and he would hate to be the one person to have caused or inflicted any pain or put you in danger.

o = oral [ preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc ]

giving and receiving is split 50/50. however, joel could spend hours in between your thighs and die happy without a second thought. he does have some experience in the field of giving oral, he knows what to do with his tongue and find all of the parts that make you jump. but he’s willing to take his time to find out what makes you tick and make it a pleasurable experience for you.

p = pace [ are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc. ]

the pace usually depends on the mood the two of you are in. his go to is something slow and sensual, liking to take his time with you and give you a good experience. other times, it needs to be fast and rough, the pent up tension he has or he’s just taki g his anger out in a way that just brings pleasure to the both of you. he does make sure though that you are 100% on board with what’s going on before even starting.

q = quickie [ their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc. ]

joel sees the appeal in having quickies. they usually take place before he has to be out on patrol, the two of you trying to cum then get dressed before tommy comes knocking on the door wandering where the two of you have been. he enjoys the aspect of it, and makes he his personal goal to see how many times he can get you to cum or just how quickly he can reduce you to a puddle.

r = risk [ are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc. ]

joel isn’t one to take too many risks, seeing as he always has to be on alert and stand-offish with people he encounters. he doesn’t take to many risks when it comes to patrols or runs, so it would translate into his sex life as well. so it really boils down to things that could possibly put you or him in danger. if there is something you are wanting to try, all he would like is just to for you to ask talk with him first and see if it would plausible to incorporate.

s = stamina [ how many rounds can they go for, how long do they last… ]

joel tends to enjoy one long drawn out session with you. he’ll typically only cum once, but is working to ensure that you cum at least twice before he does so. if you would like to go another round, he’s more than happy to oblige. just give him a few moments to catch his breathe before you string on him.

t = toy [ do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves? ]

given the apocalypse, there aren’t many toys still left lying around. and if there are, they most likely aren’t in the best of shape.

joel had always prided himself in the use and skill of his hands i.e. that whole woodcarving studio he has. so it’s really no surprise when he prefers a more hands on method and reducing you to a puddle with his fingers and hands.

u = unfair [ how much do they like to tease ]

joel isn’t much of a tease in bed. he likes to provide you pleasure and while teasing can get on riled up, he prefers to keep it as a way to get you into bed rather than incorporating it into the routine you share.

outside of the bedroom, he’ll take every moment he can to tease or frustrate you to no end. brushes of his hand or body against yours, pressing a ghost of a kiss against your neck, and squeezing you gently with his hands. he has no preference but does enjoy the asperated look on your face when he manages to take you by surprise.

v = volume [ how loud they are, what sound they make ]

joel is a mix of grunts and groans, with a small twist of dirty talk. in the beginning, he tried to keep it quiet. it was out of necessity given the world they lived in. so he kept to the small grunts and groans into your neck or against the shell of your ear. as your relationship progressed, he incorporated dirty talk and actually voicing his pleasure with you. 

w = wild card [ get a random headcanon for the character of your choice ]

flannels, especially ones of his are just a complete game changer. he loves seeing you all cozied up in one of his flannels either wearing them out on patrols or wearing them around the house as he drinks his coffee and a record plays in the background

x = x-ray [ let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words ]

six inches, thicker toward the base.

y = yearning [ how high is their sex drive? ]

it’s been some years since he’s had any action, sure he and tess had hooked up a few times before meeting ellie and yourself. he tends to keep more to himself on most occasions but the minute he meets you, he starts to feel more 

he doesn’t act them quite yet, as although things are quite different now due to the outbreak, but he still wants to take his time. however, the minute that line is crossed, he’s always ready. he can suppress his urges, but the minute he gets his hands on you, he has a hard time stopping himself. 

z = zzz [ how quickly they fall asleep afterward ]

joel, of course, doesn’t forget the importance of aftercare. making sure you are all cleaned up and comfortable before settling into bed with you. he’s  a gentleman at heart, meaning he will stay up with you until he sees your eyes start to flutter shut. the two of you could talk nonsense, talking anything and everything before sleep starts to take over the both of you. he’s quick to make sure the two of you are in a comfortable position before he starts to drift off as well.

[kellyvela]

GRRM has said in interviews that he’s purposely played with the romantic tension between the hound and Sansa. What do you think the endgame purpose of the unkiss and that playing is meant to be for?

This is all what he said about the matter in question so far:

The Hound and Sansa, romantic or platonic? It could be very different things to each of those involved, mind you!

JUNE 24, 1999 THE HOUND AND SANSA

Moreta12: I understand, I’ve heard your opinion on that. In ACOK, it seems that the relationship between the Hound and Sansa had romantic undertones. Is that true?

GeoRR: Well, read the book and decide for yourself.

Moreta12: I’ve read the book and I’ve debated those particular scenes with a few others. Half say that it’s romantic and half say it’s platonic. I’ve taken the romantic stance.

GeoRR:  It could be very different things to each of those involved, mind you

Moreta12:Yes, but it seem like evidence points towards romantic undertones. Will the Hound appear later?

GeoRR: Yes, the Hound will be in STORM OF SWORDS. In fact, I just finished writing a big scene with him.

[Source]

When will Sansa be “legal”?  **ºª@”¡¿x<%$!&?

OCTOBER 05, 1999 AGE OF SEXUAL RELATIONS IN WESTEROS

The nature of the relationship between Sandor and Sansa has been a hot topic on Revanshe’s board. Sansa’s youth has been one focus of the discussion. What is the general Westerosi view as to romantic or sexual relationships involving a girl of Sansa’s age and level of physical maturity?

A boy is Westeros is considered to be a “man grown” at sixteen years. The same is true for girls. Sixteen is the age of legal majority, as twenty-one is for us.

However, for girls, the first flowering is also very significant… and in older traditions, a girl who has flowered is a woman, fit for both wedding and bedding.

A girl who has flowered, but not yet attained her sixteenth name day, is in a somewhat ambigious position: part child, part woman. A “maid,” in other words. Fertile but innocent, beloved of the singers.

In the “general Westerosi view,” well, girls may well be wed before their first flowerings, for political reasons, but it would considered perverse to bed them. And such early weddings, even without sex, remain rare. Generally weddings are postponed until the bride has passed from girlhood to maidenhood.

Maidens may be wedded and bedded… however, even there, many husbands will wait until the bride is fifteen or sixteen before sleeping with them. Very young mothers tend to have significantly higher rates of death in childbirth, which the maesters will have noted.

As in the real Middle Ages, highborn girls tend to flower significantly earlier than those of lower birth. Probably a matter of nutrition. As a result, they also tend to marry earlier, and to bear children earlier. There are plenty of exceptions.

[Source]

Unreliable Narrator

JUNE 26, 2001 SF, TARGARYENS, VALYRIA, SANSA, MARTELLS, AND MORE

[GRRM is asked about Sansa misremembering the name of Joffrey’s sword.]

The Lion’s Paw / Lion’s Tooth business (*), on the other hand, is intentional. A small touch of the unreliable narrator. I was trying to establish that the memories of my viewpoint characters are not infallible. Sansa is simply remembering it wrong. A very minor thing (you are the only one to catch it to date), but it was meant to set the stage for a much more important lapse in memory. You will see, in A STORM OF SWORDS and later volumes, that Sansa remembers the Hound kissing her the night he came to her bedroom… but if you look at the scene, he never does. That will eventually mean something, but just now it’s a subtle touch, something most of the readers may not even pick up on.

[Source]

(*) It was Arya who misremembered the name of Joffrey’s sword tho…

Unreliable Narrator 2.0

OCTOBER 05, 2002 SANSA’S MEMORY

[Note: This mail has been edited for brevity.]

… this is an inconsistency with ASoS more than an outright error. In ASoS, Sansa thinks that the Hound kissed her before leaving her room and King’s Landing. In ACoK, no kiss is mentioned in the scene, though Sansa did think that he was about to do so.

Well, not every inconsistency is a mistake, actually. Some are quite intentional. File this one under “unreliable narrator” and feel free to ponder its meaning

[Source]

Unreliable Narrator 3.0

NOVEMBER 27, 2007 GEORGE R.R. MARTIN ANSWERS YOUR QUESTIONS

Here’s a really particular question (which I realize means it probably won’t get asked in a general interview): In A Storm of Swords, there is a chapter early on where Sansa is thinking back to the scene at the end of A Clash of Kings when The Hound came into her room during the battle. She thinks in the chapter about how he kissed her, but in the scene in A Clash of Kings, this actually didn’t happen. Was that a typo or something? —Valdora

GRRM: It’s not a typo. It is something! [Laughs] ”Unreliable narrator” is the key phrase there. The second scene is from Sansa’s thoughts. And what does that reveal about her psychologically? I try to be subtle about these things.

[Source]

Sansa may be dead but Alayne is alive

APRIL 15, 2008 FUTURE MEETINGS, POVS, ARYA’S ROLE, EASTERN LANDS, AND ASSASSINS

[Will Sandor and Sansa meet?]

Why, the Hound is dead, and Sansa may be dead as well. There’s only Alayne Stone.

[Source]

A lot more dangerous than romantic

AUGUST 2, 2009 AS SER JORAH MORMONT…

weltraummuell: The Hound Oh please don’t cast an old guy for the Hound, his scenes with Sansa are so romantic and erotic, I couldn’t bear if it’d feel creepy all of a sudden. Well, that’s me making demands. LOL

GRRM: Re: The Hound Old guy? No, but… the Hound is still a whole lot older than Sansa, and was never written as attractive… you know, those hideous burns and all that… he’s a lot more dangerous than he is romantic.

kestrana: The Hound Yeah its a “girl always wants the bad boy” kind of thing although Sansa seems to pull something else out of him. It feels so wrong sometimes but I want to see them together again tee hee.

weltraummuell: The Hound Hehe, George, maybe you didn’t intend it, but he turned out to be a very erotic character to female readers. Especially since he’s mutilated and dangerous. Makes him unpredictable and vulnerable which is the most explosive aphrodisiac for a girl’s fantasy. ;)

weltraummuell: The Hound And I know from discussions on other board other women feel just the same about Sandor. He’s an absolute favourite with the ladies!

halfbloodmalfoy: The Hound LOL, you’re such a man. To many of us women, dangerous *is* attractive.

GRRM: The Hound But no one has any love for poor old Sam Tarly, kind and smart and decent and devoted…

[Source]

I played with it but I didn’t get the answer I was waiting for

JUNE 22, 2012 SWORD & LASER VIDEO PODCAST

GRRM: I am sometimes surprised by the reactions, of women in particular, to some of the villains. The number of women over the years who have written to me that their favorite characters are Jaime Lannister or Sandor Clegane [the Hound] or Theon Greyjoy… All of these are deeply troubled individuals with some very dark sides, who have done some very dark things. Nonetheless, they do draw this response, and quite heavily, I think, in the case of some of them, from my female readers in particular.

Veronica Belmont: I’m a big fan of the Hound, myself, actually.

Tom Merritt: Of Sandor? Really?

Veronica Belmont: Yeah, the Hound… Maybe it’s not because I feel any compassion towards them, I’m not really sure what the attraction is. Ah, I’m not going to call it attraction, actually. Let’s just say it’s a fascination, perhaps.

GRRM: [Chuckles] Well, I mean, fascination is one thing, but some of these letters indicate that there really is like a romantic attraction going on there. And I do know there’s all these people out there who are, as they call themselves, the “San/San” fans, who want to see Sandor and Sansa get together at the end. So that’s interesting, too.

Tom Merritt: The TV show has sort of played with that a little, and probably stoked those fires.

GRRM: Oh, sure. And I’ve played with it in the books. There’s something there, but it’s still interesting to see how many people have responded to it.

[Source]

I played with it but I didn’t get the answer I was waiting for 2.0

JUNE 23, 2015 GRRM Q&A AT THE SCIENCE FICTION BOOKSTORE IN STOCKHOLM

Question: “Is there any fan reactions that you have been surprised by, like is there a character that’s more popular than you thought or have people been shocked by something you didn’t think we would be shocked at?”

GRRM: “I’m reasonably certain what people will be shocked by. I knew that the Red Wedding would provoke a big reaction and it did. I was pretty confident that, you know, throwing Bran out the window and then killing Ned in the first book would get reactions, and indeed they did. All of those worked exactly the way it did to the extent that things that have surprised me, they tend to be smaller things. I guess I… Maybe I should not have, I don’t know. How do I phrase this without getting myself in terrible trouble… I guess I don’t understand women, but I was definitely, you know, way back when, surprised by the number of women who reacted positively to characters like Theon and the Hound as dashing, romantic figures. The san/san kind of thing took me by surprise, I must admit, and even more so the women who, and there are some, who really like Theon. So that surprised me.”

[Source]

Unreliable Narrator 4.0

DECEMBER 2016 ASKING GEORGE R.R. MARTIN ABOUT S@N/S@N

My question is regarding Sansa Stark. Her sexuality has evolved through every book and yet the memory that seems to stick the more with her in this regard is the night of the Blackwater. So I was wondering if you can expand on your view on what this is, since as before that night her interactions with Sandor Clegane weren’t really physical.

The night of the Blackwater, yes. Ahhh… Well, I’m not going to give you a straight answer on that hahaha… Uhmmm, but I would say that ahhh… you know a television show and a book each has its own strengths and weaknesses; there a re tools that are available to me as a novelist, that are not available to people doing a television show. And of course there are tools available to them, that are not available to a novelist, I mean they can lay in a soundtrack, they can do special effects, they can do amazing things that I can’t do, I just have words on paper. What can I do, well I can use things like the internal narrative, I can take you inside of territories… thoughts, which you can’t do in a TV show… Ahhh… You just have the words they speak, you see them from outside because the camera is external, while prose is internal, and I have the device known as “unreliable narrator”… Ahhh… Which again, they don’t have. So, think about those two aspects when you consider that night of the Blackwater.

[Source]

Do with it what you will.

[eunoiaflow3r]

Slow Dance

A/N: based on the song Slow Dance by AJ Mitchell and Ava Max.

Warnings: fluff haha, there will be mistakes. fem!reader.

Requests:

Hi! Could I request Spencer Reid fluff? Spencer and the reader have hidden feelings for each other and his team manages to get him to tell the reader? Thank you :) @hahaboop​

I have a request for Spencer Reid! One where the reader is the youngest member of the BAU (maybe she could be like 22, just graduated from college) and everyone is really protective of her. So, Spencer has a crush on her but doesn’t know how to tell her because all the members in the BAU are too overprotective and the rest of the building flirts with her or something like this. @always394patronus​

Word Count: 2.3k

~~~~

If you stay for this minute, girl I'll never let you down...

The team had just gotten back to the BAU after a long case a few states away, and everyone except you and Spencer was out of the door. You were stressing out because yet again you were being paired with either Morgan or Hotch on every single case you’ve been given the past few months. At first you had hardly noticed, but with every passing case and every, “young one,” comment, you have grown more and more furious.

Spencer understood completely. Having been a twelve year old highschool graduate, he’s gotten his fair share of the “being young,” comments and teases. He could only imagine it was probably considerably worse for you since you were a woman, and women are commonly misconstrued, as the, “weaker gender.”

You were everything but weak though. Over the past few months, after you had joined the team, he and pretty much everyone noticed that you are incredibly smart, head-strong, honest, and ambitious. Perhaps this is why the team felt the need to protect you.

Sure, there have been plenty of new members, and new people and faces and scents, but you were different. In this case, different wasn’t terrible, it was just - unexpected. You were the youngest there, and with you being another woman added to the team, everyone kind of looked at you a little differently. It wasn’t that they doubted your profiling skills, oh no, you were, “damn good,” at your job as Morgan likes to say, and it wasn’t the fact that they thought you couldn’t handle yourself because of your age, but they were trying to make it so that the cases wouldn’t get to you.

Because of your age, they felt that after a while maybe the cases would get to be too much for you, and they wanted to prevent you from a world of confusion and hurt.

That is what hurt you the most though. Why couldn’t you just be treated like everyone else here?

And Spencer listened to anything and everything you had to say. He had become the closest thing to a best friend you could have, but sometimes it just didn’t feel like you were meant to be just friends.

Sometimes he’d catch himself staring at you a bit too long, or wanting to come up with anything he could to talk to you, or maybe even go as far as staring at your lips when you were talking, but he digressed, and tried to suppress anything he might have felt for you.

And you did as well.

All the time you had caught yourself wanting to just pull him into a hug that lasted forever, or hold his hand, and maybe even kiss him, but he was your coworker. Not only that, but on top of all the field limitations, those same limits seemed to be in office as well.

We ain't off the limit, I could hold you after now. No more talking, I don't know what you wanna do with that?

A few bold interns from a couple of floors down had tried to ask you out on a date, and maybe even a few more, but as soon as they had or even had the thought to, Morgan, Hotch, and sometimes even Garcia would give you a disapproving look, glare the guy down, or maybe even go as far as shut the guy down verbally for you.

Afterwards you’d always apologize to the guy, and you always felt bad for having to do it. Well, not really. Of course it made you upset that they never seemed to want you to live your life and actually find love, but the only one you wanted to go on dates with anyway was Spencer.

You knew your jobs, and the fact that you worked together could be a problem, but you couldn’t help but wonder if you could actually be something. Or maybe you misinterpreted the looks he gave you, and he actually doesn’t like you that way at all.

That night, Spencer had gotten home and went straight to sleep. Usually he’d dream of his mom, the cases, or maybe even some of the plain rides, but tonight's dreams seemed to have been filled with you. You were on his couch, in one of his cardigans, reading a book, eating some kind of fruit. He came in, sat next to you and handed you a cup of coffee after placing a quick kiss to your lips.

In the dream after that he had woken up, and you were snuggled in beside him. He had his arm wrapped around him, and your legs were tangled with his. The sun had barely risen, and the comforter was twisted in a weird way between the two of you, but when he actually woke up the next morning, he couldn’t help but noticed it felt so normal, and he wished it had been real.

He ran his fingers through his tangled curls, and scolded himself for those dreams. How was he going to look at you the same in a couple of hours when he almost-knew what it felt like to kiss you, and he almost-knew what it felt like to be so close to you?

_

“What’s wrong, kiddo?” You cringed at the nickname Rossi used towards you, but you answered him anyway.

“Nothing, just tired.”

He shook his head and laughed to himself. You gave him a ‘what?’ look.

“You’re not tired Y/N. You’re distressed.” He nods towards where Reid is sitting. “You haven’t stopped staring at him, care to talk about it?”

“Not really.” You sighed, spinning your chair around so now you were no longer even facing Reid - that way you wouldn’t be caught staring again.

“I say go for it.” You give him that ‘what?’ look again waiting for him to elaborate. “It’s obvious you two like eachother. Take it from me, don’t wait before it’s too late.”

“But the team -” You argue.

“At the end of the day, the team doesn’t matter. Just you and Spencer.”

And with that, Rossi walked away leaving you to think about what he said, and if it was even really possible for you two to be something more than friends.

It feels good, why you even wanna hold it back? We just work and I know there's no coming back.

“Awe, would you look at them!” Garcia gushed, watching you laugh at something Spencer said across the bullpen.

“Look at who?” Morgan asked clearly oblivious to the two of you.

“Spencer and Y/N.” Garcia answered pointing slightly in your direction so that Morgan could see too.

Morgan looked over and saw that you were sitting on your desk, and Spencer was standing in front of you with a cup of coffee in his hands. You were giggling like crazy, and Spencer smiled too although he wasn’t quite sure what the joke was.

“Y/N! Tell me what’s so funny! All I said was cassava!”

This only caused you to laugh even harder. There was this trick in elementary where you would ask someone a series of easy math questions very quickly, and then on the last question you’d ask them to name a vegetable. The trick was that usually the participant would say the basic vegetable, “carrots,” but no, Spencer Reid answered, “cassava.”

Once you stopped laughing, you explained it to him, and he didn’t find it as funny as you did, but nevertheless he started laughing too because your laugh seemed to be infectious. _

“I didn’t know which you liked better, so I brought both.” Spencer said, smiling behind bags of chinese food and two boxes of pizza.

“Oh my God Spencer!” you gushed, grabbing some of the bags and one of the boxes.

He closes the door behind him and puts all the food on the table.

“What are you even doing here?” You ask giving him a quick hug.

“Well, I know you’ve been a little down lately, and I just thought I’d help in any way that I could.”

You almost cried. He was so sweet to you, and you had no idea how to react. You wanted to wrap your arms around him and show him how much you appreciate him with a passionate kiss, but you knew that you probably shouldn’t.

_

Spencer invited you over for a movie marathon, and you’d be there any minute. He had made sure his apartment was flawless, and everything was perfect. Sure, you’ve been to his place before, but lately, things have begun to feel...different.

There was this one time at work where you two had gotten so close that he had just almost kissed you, but he had chickened out, and he had regretted that decision ever since.

When you got there, you both ended up staying up until three in the morning watching your favorite movies.

_

“Do you wanna go catch some lunch?” Terry from downstairs asks you.

“She likes someone else, sorry my man.” Morgan answers for you resting his arm across your shoulders.

Once the guy was gone, you turned to him with a frown.

“Someone as in who?” You ask.

“Uh uh,” he steps away. “Don’t play dumb with me Miss Lady. You know exactly who I’m talking about.” You rolled your eyes and walked over to the elevator.

Once you had entered the bullpen, you noticed Penelope and Spencer in a corner - except she looked to be giving him a pep-talk of some kind. _

“Spencer I’m telling you, you NEED to make a move.” Penelope practically whines. “I am tired of seeing you two pine after one another.”

Spencer shakes his head and sighs. “We don’t know if she even - and the team. The team practically throws the guys who even look at her out of the window.”

“You’re different, you know it’s different with you.”

Spencer wasn’t so sure. He’d hate it if he were to kindle something with you, and the team was unsupportive. _

A couple of days later, Spencer had walked by your desk and noticed a bouqet of roses in your wastebasket.

“Who were those from?” He asks half curiously, half jealousy (although he’s not willing to admit that.)

“Some guy named uh- Dylan, but I uhh, I’m interested in someone else.” You looked everywhere but Spencer’s eyes, trying not to laugh.

“Oh, you do?” he asks wearily, not quite sure where you were going with this. “Do I know him?”

“Oh yeah.” You smile. “You guys are practically like this.” You twisted your middle and pointer finger together to show the closeness.

He smiled down at you catching on. “Don’t tell me it’s Morgan, Y/N.”

“Nah. This guy likes to read. I don’t think Derek’s ever picked up a book in the last five years.”

_

It was late one night and you and Spencer were the only ones left in the office. You walked over to his desk where he was reading the newspaper, but when he noticed you his head immediately picked up. “Remember when I told you that you know the guy that I’m interested in?”

“Mhmm yeah, I think I remember.”

“He’s you. The guy is you.”

“Could have fooled -”

And you leaned in capturing his lips in yours. He tasted of coffee and bubblegum, which isn’t as bad as it might seem. He kissed you back and you forgot everything for a moment - forgot you were at the bullpen, forgot he was your coworker, and forgot the team's reaction actually might have meant something to you.

They meant nothing now when he’s pulling you down to straddle his lap and deepening the kiss. When you felt his tongue along your lips you opened your mouth a little wider so that he could kiss you just a little bit harder.

You both pulled away at the same time but stayed close, as he was running his hands along your sides.

“Me. You could have fooled me.” he finishes. You laughed and pressed a quick kiss to his lips which he returned before climbing out of his lap and steadying yourself on the ground.

You were going to walk away, until he grabbed your hand and pulled you back.

“Hey,” he practically whispered. “Go to dinner with me tomorrow night.”

_

I wanna slow dance if you’re feeling me now If we don't hold hands you'll be killing me now

Spencer had arrived at your apartment with a bouquet of wildflowers.

He had knocked, and when you opened the door, he was absolutely shocked.

“Wow, you look stunning.” He lets out.

“As do you.”

You grab the flowers from him and place it in a vase before grabbing your jacket, his hand, and heading out of the door.

The night went smoothly, and the dinner was great, and it couldn’t have been more perfect.

“Spence?” You asked, rubbing your thumb across his knuckles. You were holding the hand he wasn’t using to drive.

“Hm?”

“Have you ever seen The Notebook?”

“Actually...no.”

“Okay.”

“Why?” he asks looking over at you. You couldn’t have been more beautiful in his eyes.

“You’ll see.”

When he pulled out in front of your apartment, and you were out of his car, you took his hand and led him to the middle of the street - the only source of light being the street lamp hovering above the two of you.

“Y/N, what are you doing?”

“Slow dance with me.”

“I can’t dance.”

“That’s alright.” You stepped close to him and guided his hands so that they were resting on your backside, and you brought your arms up to wrap around his neck. From there, you led him to step with you to a nonexistent rhythm.

You two weren’t really worried about any cars, this wasn’t a busy street.

“Tell me about The Notebook.” he says, pulling your body closer to his.

“Well Noah actually laid down in the street, not danced and -”

I need a romance, one chance I just wanna know, will you slow dance?

[thatgamefromthatad]

Seen these ads? (Obey Me! Review)

This is a visual novel/otome/gacha card RPG game with the same characters and themes as featured in the ads.

As stated in many of the ads this game centers around seven demon brother love interests (as well as some other potential love interests) although the game has a lot of plot elements other than just romance. Most of the ads that I’ve seen feature real art that appears in the game one way or another, and the ads tend to be focused more on the characters and theme in general rather than specific gameplay. Of the ads that do appear to show gameplay, most of the time it’s not really what you’ll see in the game but still follows fairly close to the actual game (for example, the “kiss, free, whip” ad on the top left doesn’t show real gameplay, but you can kiss or whip that character. But that specific art comes from a gacha card I believe and isn’t what you see when you do the kissing and whipping).

A few notes before I get into the full review:

I’m a lesbian, so I’m definitely not the target audience for this game, but I always try to be objective and open-minded when playing any game I’m not the target audience for (other examples I’ve reviewed in the past are Moments, which was also primarily targeted toward women who are attracted to men, Immortal Taoists, which involved a genre I had never heard of before and really had no interest in, Time Princess, which also wasn’t my favorite genre but was still a great game, and various Genius Inc. visual novels, which are targeted more toward high-school age boys as far as I can tell).

Speaking of lesbians, this game weirdly censors the word “lesbians” but not any other LGBTQ+ terms (that don’t include the word “sexual”) as far as I can tell; I decided it was enough of a one-off thing that it wouldn’t factor a huge amount in my overall review of the game, but I think it’s still something to take note of and not let off the hook since it definitely shows bias and can be offensive to players.

This game is rated 12+ on the Apple App Store, and I was pretty harsh on Crush Crush for being rated that way because I thought it crossed the line with some of its sexually suggestive content. I kept that in mind while playing this one, and personally I don’t think it crossed the line in the same way, at least not from what I’ve played so far; although it does have sexually suggestive content (most often when interacting with the character Asmodeus, who is literally known in the game as the “Avatar of Lust”), it’s much more occasional through tidbits of dialog as opposed to in Crush Crush where it involved a whole section of the game and was more interactive in nature. I would definitely still cringe at the thought of a 12-year-old reading some of this dialog, but I think it fits fairly within the App Store descriptors of “Infrequent/Mild Sexual Content and Nudity” and “Infrequent/Mild Mature/Suggestive Themes.”

Last note - there is a character in this game (Luke) who has the appearance and demeanor of a small child who you can interact with in a similar way to the other love interest characters, which concerned me for obvious reasons. I looked more into this, specifically reading into all of the different dialog options involving this character, and his responses never seem to be more than platonic, which is good. He still blushes when you give him gifts and stuff, which is kind of awkward, and it seems weird to throw a kid character into an otome game, but all considered I wouldn’t say the game is promoting anything inappropriate (unlike one of the Genius VNs that clearly involved relationships between an adult and minors).

Sorry I know that’s a lot of notes and disclaimers but I just wanted to that all out of the way as general concerns anyone might have trying this game or reading this review!

Without further ado, read my full review below:

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***

***

(I’m trying a new color-coding system to help highlight some of the main points of my review if you don’t want to read my entire essay word-for-word lol. Pink is a positive aspect of the game, red is a negative aspect/criticism and purple is not necessarily positive or negative but just something I wanted to highlight.)

😈 Is the game actually fun? Yes! Just in terms of production value, this game is top notch: the art and character designs are very appealing, the transitions between characters’ poses and facial expressions during VN scenes are actually animated (which looks much smoother and more natural than switching between still images), the voice acting is great (although the VN scenes aren’t fully voice acted, some parts like phone calls are and the characters say different phrases during scenes and battles as well)(Note: all the voice acting is Japanese), and the music is FANTASTIC and perfectly sets the vibe throughout the game.

The best parts of this game in my opinion are the different personalities of the characters and the overall plot; although some of the characters’ personalities can be a bit one-note at times (for example, one character’s entire personality that I’ve seen so far is that he likes to eat and is always hungry), the characters each have their own charm and play off each other well. I found myself getting invested in each of the characters’ desires and goals throughout the story, even the characters I didn’t particularly like. The story is also chock full of humor which is always fun, and the whole world and backstory built around this game (the “Devildom” setting and the idea of an exchange student program with angels, humans and demons) are also unique and impressive.

I really enjoyed the multiple modes of storytelling i.e. how the VN chapters are supplemented with text messages and phone calls from characters and an Instagram spoof with additional side stories to unlock. I know this isn’t a new thing in mobile games (even Gardenscapes and Homescapes do it to an extent lol) but add the compelling characters and overall production value on top and it’s a really enjoyable experience. Since the home screen of the game is set up like it’s your phone, with the different parts of the game represented as “apps,” the game kind of creates a feeling like you’re really living in this world with these characters where you can freely scroll through their Instagram feeds and check the messages you get from them on your own time. The shop where you can buy items and premium currency is called Akuzon (an Amazon spoof) and the place where all your gacha cards are is called “contacts,” which further adds to the immersive effect.

The “dating” part of the game is pretty cute although I haven’t gotten super far so I’m not sure of the full scope of the romantic interactions. From what I can tell, in addition to the dialog, blushy faces and bedroom eyes you get from characters when you give them gifts and touch different parts of their body (above the belt lol), when you raise your intimacy level with them you get additional phone calls and messages from them (I haven’t played a lot of otome games but I think that’s how a lot of them go). I wasn’t that invested in this part of the game but I think there’s some strategy that goes with using the right combination of gifts and touches to maximize intimacy boosts and get certain dialog, which adds a whole other aspect of gameplay in addition to the main game. I also noticed that occasionally your choices throughout the VN chapters will give you a small intimacy boost with a certain character; I kind of wish this was even more integrated since most of the time I felt like no matter what I chose it didn’t make any difference in my relationship with characters. Also, I don’t think there’s a way to “officially” date a specific character, it’s more about raising the intimacy level to earn more interactions but it doesn’t actually affect the main plot.

As far as the main mode of progressing through the game, which is winning “dance battles” with teams from your gacha collection, this part of the game has its own positive qualities such as the cute chibi forms of the characters that appear on screen and the fact that some of the special attacks show a little anime clip of the character (of course it’s less exciting when you see the same clip every battle but I still thought it was a nice touch). I was a little disappointed that there wasn’t a rhythm aspect as the “dance battle” name would imply, and your main interaction during the battle itself is basically just tapping hearts that pop up and tapping the characters when their attacks are ready, but you also have the option to skip that whole interactive sequence and just get a result based on your team’s stats, so there’s not much to complain about there (especially since the battles are sort of a side note compared to the storytelling aspect of the game despite being the main element of RPG-based gameplay that allows you to progress). If you are interested in the RPG aspects, there’s plenty of that to work with (building teams, balancing attributes, managing resources/rewards to level up cards and progress through skill trees of sorts, all that good stuff) although you’re limited to an extent by how difficult it is to get a lot of gacha draws without paying real money. It’s even harder to be able to focus on both strategy and character relationships while playing for free when the same scarce currency is used for both gacha draws and gifts.

👿 Is this a free game or a “free game”? Despite what I just said, I would still consider it a free game - you can gradually save up some of premium currency the game gives out through tasks in order to pay for more gacha draws and other items, and as far as I can tell you can access the main story and the other parts of the game without hitting a paywall. I only got to the fourth chapter so far though so don’t take this assessment as gospel. Like with a lot of other freemium games you might feel pressured to pay (especially when you run out of gifts to give your lover boys, which was the biggest downer for me, or if you’re obsessed with wanting to collect a lot of cards or get a specific card) but since you don’t actually need to pay to progress I still consider it free.

There’s also an energy system where you hit a wall and have to wait if you run out, but I never ran out because of the huge amount of energy the game dumps on you when you first start, and it seems like there are a bunch of other ways to get extra energy as well. There also aren’t pop-up or watch-to-earn ads in this game that I saw.

💀 Features

Main visual novel scenes and storyline (the visual novel scenes come between dance battle stages and there are a few short side routes that branch off but still one main route as far as I can tell, I don’t think your dialog choices really make a different except for in how the characters react to you immediately afterward. Still the main storyline in itself is fun to follow and it’s fun to get different reactions out of the characters based on what you say)

Dance battles (I’m not fully knowledgeable about the minutia of the RPG system at play here but in general the outcome of the battle will depend on the level, rank and attributes of your cards compared against the difficulty and attributes of the stage you’re playing. There also “memory cards” that can be assigned to support your team and expendable temporary boosters called “glow sticks” that boost your stats for one battle. During the battle itself you tap hearts that appear to earn extra points and you can tap your characters when their power is charged up to “attack” your opponent and use special skills. There are guides online that go deeper into stats and strategies and such if you’re interested. Different stages have different rewards for completion and you can quick complete levels you’ve already beaten to mine resources you need)

Gacha mechanic and cards (the gacha area of this game is called “Nightmare” and there are a few different pools along with event pools each with their own odds and sets of cards you can get. For the default pools you get free draws periodically and I believe you get one free draw for each event pool IIRC. You also get a bunch of vouchers for draws when you first start the game which got me handful of SSRs and a couple URs to build a couple of solid teams right off the bat. In addition to drawing directly from gacha pools you can get some cards by collecting card pieces as rewards from stages and events until you have enough to get the actual card. Each card has its own set of stats/attributes, can be leveled up and has a skill tree of sorts that can be progressed through with resources mined through beating stages, although it’s more of an attribute tree than a skill tree since most of the branches just add points onto one of your card’s attributes. Some cards, the rarer ones, have special skills that can be used in battle)

One-on-one characters interactions and intimacy i.e. the “dating” part (there are two ways this occurs: 1) you can set a specific character to your home screen that allows you to enter into an interaction with them, with a refresh period in between interactions 2) the main way, which is through “surprise guests” after dance battles. These surprise guests show up frequently but not always, and they’re always one of the three team members you used in battle, selected randomly. For each one-on-one interaction you can do three actions - either give a gift, touch the character or ignore the character. Sometimes the character will also offer you a high five which counts as an action if you oblige. Different characters have different favorite gifts and touching different parts of the body can get a different reaction depending on the character and your level of intimacy I believe. Your intimacy level with a character increases depending on the combination of actions you perform, and sometimes the character also gives you gifts back like more energy or resources. There are guides for this online as well)

Text messages and phone calls (text messages are the main mode of storytelling outside of the main VN scenes - you get messages from characters or multiple characters in group chats that you respond to with preset messages or stickers similar to how you make choices during the VN parts. Some of the text messages correspond with the main plot as you progress, ex. A character texts you to be in a certain place at a certain time and next VN scene is of you two meeting at that place. I think other text messages also come up when you reach certain intimacy levels with characters. There are certain group messages that you don’t respond to where you’re basically spying on a group chat among characters and just get to see what everyone’s saying. In addition to written messages and emoji stickers characters will also sometimes send pictures. Phone calls are fully voice-acted dialog you have with another character and they seem to pop up when you reach certain intimacy levels - I’ve only gotten ones so far with the two characters I have the highest intimacy with)

Instagram spoof/“Devilgram” (Devilgram is an in-game photo sharing social media app similar to Instagram and the photos on there correspond to gacha cards. When you acquire the gacha card that corresponds to a Devilgram post you unlock a side story, but you also need keys to unlock further scenes from that story, which can be gradually earned through completing tasks and such)

To Do tasks (completing tasks on your To Do is the main way to earn premium currency in the game along with other rewards and resources. There are daily tasks, overall tasks and tasks specific to each character. Examples of tasks are completing a certain stage or number of stages, beating a stage using a team that includes a certain character or reaching a certain intimacy level with a character. There are also beginner missions when you start the game that I think stay available until you complete all of them)

Events (there are sometimes side story events called “pop quizzes” and gacha events that are available for a limited time, or sometimes an event has both a corresponding pop quiz and gacha pool. The pop quizzes are separate chapters with their own dance battles and VN scenes, and the battles will come with reward points that you can spend on different prizes. Sometimes there are unique cards you can only get from an event. Other minor types of events include log-in bonus events and events where you can get special types of gifts for your love interests. There’s also a feature where you can “time-travel” back to old events at some cost but I haven’t explored this much)

Jobs (you can assign characters to passively complete jobs that earn you a small amount of non-premium currency over time and also increases your intimacy with the assigned characters by a small amount)

Customization (you can unlock avatars of different characters to use for your profile and set the name you want characters to refer to you by throughout the game. You can also change the outfit of your homescreen character, change the homescreen wallpaper and change the homescreen background music by making purchases in the Akuzon shop or acquiring certain gacha cards)

⚖️ Ad Honesty Rating: 4/5 (just from the ads I’ve seen, especially the ones that appear to be running currently, there don’t seem to be blatantly fake ads and the ads show real art and do well conveying the theme and characters in the game. However some of the ads are misleading about the actual mechanics of gameplay and may also lead you to believe there are actual romance routes with the characters which is not really the case)

⭐️ Overall Rating: 5/5 (I definitely didn’t want to give this game a great rating just because it’s super popular on Tumblr but I can definitely see why it’s so popular. There are lots of things to do, the characters are very lovable, it’s funny, the art is great, the music is great and the lore and overall vibe are compelling and unique. It’s a high-quality game with a good story and I’ll probably keep playing it)

▶️ Ad Example:

▶️ Gameplay Examples:

Dance Battles

Surprise Guest

If you got through this review bless your heart ❤️ Special thanks to @human-watching-ads-from-devildom which is where I was able to view some of the ads since I was having trouble finding them elsewhere online and viewing some of them on the Facebook ad library.

Follow me for more reviews of those free mobile games you’re always getting ads for! Thanks for reading! 🥳

[fictitiousfoodie]

It’s A Family Thing

Summary: A boy falls for a girl

Pairing: Reader x Ian Kildner ( fake person)

Word Count: 3847

Okay so here are something to know before you read. The teams are real but all the people fake it was easier for me with this story.

Juliette stood by a high table, wearing a stunning and elegant black dress A-line gown with a respectable but fun slit up the side, talking to a relatively wealthy seeming older gentleman. His tux was custom, hair grey, and thinking, and the date he had brought with him was barely legal to drink, showing almost all her cleavage, and was sipping her cosmo through a straw. But Juliette didn't care about any of that right now. All she cared about was convincing this man that a donation to the team's charity would be a brilliant investment. 

"Mr. Mason donating to the teams' charity is not only a write-off for you with tax breaks, but it allows lots of people to see just how good you and your company are." Manson Construction was responsible for building half of Boston and rebuilding the other half. They had gone through a string of bad publicity when someone leaked rumors of the company cutting corners regarding safety protocols to the local newspapers. The stories had been proven untrue, but they had still caused doubt in the community. Mason Construction was a good company, and Juliette knew that. "Manson Construction on every banner we use when the team works with charities like Habitat for Humanity or does an event with local children's hospitals something like that could change how the community views your company," she said with a passionate and firm promise to her voice. Just as Juliette finished her speech, a loud, sharp crack of noise erupted from behind her. 

Juliette's brother Jack, the youngest of her four brothers, and his girlfriend Ashley had been fighting all night. Juliette had been keeping an eye on it. Ashley was not a great girlfriend. Juliette was pretty sure Ashley was in it for the idea of dating a pro athlete, and Jack was in it cause Ashley was hot. Juliette had noticed more and more that Jack seemed done with Ashley's crap, and from the Way, Ashley was now storming out and the fact Jack wasn't going after her, he had decided to end things tonight in a public place. 

Juliette turned back to Mr.Mason, who was chuckling to himself. "Your brother seems to be quiet, the unlucky fellow tonight in regards to love. But you are better than luck. You're smart, and you've got gumption, Juliette. I like the image you've given the charity, and I think it will provide great support and publicity for my business. I will send you a check tomorrow with the donation. If the team or the charity needs anything, you let me know," he said, smiling and walking away with his old wrinkled hand on his arm candy's ass. 

Jules shivered in disgust as she watched arm candy giggle and kiss him on the cheek, then took a deep breathe she had done it. She had landed another massive donation for the charity. 

Suddenly a large and heavy arm flopped around her shoulder, and her oldest brother Brandon was there by her side. 

"Way to go, Jules. It looks like Mr.Mason was pleased with the idea of being the teams highest paying donor', he said with pride and admiration for his sister. 

"He said he would send over the check tomorrow. I need a drink, and to get these heels off my feet are killing me." She laughed, walking to the bar. 

Brandon was the oldest of the four brothers at the age of 33. He had retired from the league last year due to a knee injury. The team hired him as the skills coach. Brandon was always responsible. He was the boy next door with a killer smile and genuine charm. The next one down was Henry, who was 31 and was the team's new athletic trainer. He was sporty and the smartest. He wanted to be a doctor when he was younger but found a way to combine his love of medicine and learning with his love of hockey and the team he had grown up around. He immediately change to sports medicine. The third one was Eric. He was the middle one, wild and crazy. He was 28, had been on the team as a defender for four years now, and made sure everyone knew his opinion on any given subject.

Jack, the youngest of the brothers, was a sweet kid, but just that, still a kid in many respects. He had the talent and a good heart, but he needed to grow up. He was 25 and still trying to figure out many things about life but was too stubborn to listen to anyone's advice. Finally, there was Juliette, the youngest out of the five children and the only girl. She grew up tough and headstrong, just like her brothers. Her mother made sure she was balanced, though, so she had put her in dance as a little girl, and she had loved it. She still went to classes and taught little ones occasionally. Her brothers were always there in the front row to cheer her on then give her noogies after. She was 24, but most people thought she was older because of how she held herself.   

All 5 of the siblings looked alike, all athletic, tall, and toned the brothers ranging in muscle definition. All five had dark brown hair and deep blue eyes. There was no denying they were family. The dark hair came from their dad, and the eyes had come from their mom.  The whole family was here tonight, and Jules loved that. Everyone in the family had found a way to be apart of the team or organization in a job they loved. She loved being around her family and the constant support they gave. Her mom had started the Boston Bruins charity when her dad had been a player. She was still running it and was grooming Juliette to take over soon. Being a Bruin was a family thing. They had been born into it and loved every minute of it. 

She and Brandon were standing by the bar ordering drinks when she saw out of the corner of her eye, Henry and Eric walk up. 

"So, we all saw the slap that Ashley gave Jack, right?" Henry said in a cautious and questioning tone. 

"Yes, the whole room heard it. Did you see where he went?" Brandon asked cautiously. 

"No, but my guess would be the locker room, someone should go check on him?" Eric said, turning towards Jules. 

"Yea yea yea, I'll go. Even though one of you are married and ones engaged," she said over her shoulder, walking away toward the locker room. 

She found Jack sitting in his locker with a cold beer pressed to his face. head drooped down and fidgeting with his phone. "You shouldn't call her, "Jules said, pulling the drink away to check out the handprint on his face. It wasn't nearly as bad as it had sounded probably just stung. Ashley wasn't abusive, just dramatic. 

"Why? Cause she slapped me?" 

"No, because she gave the bartender her number about 15 mins before that happened. You made the right call. She didn't love you; she loved the status."

"I know. I just thought she was the one at the beginning. "He sighed as Jules sat next to him. 

They sat there for a few minutes in silence. Jules knew he would be fine just needed someone to lean on for a bit, and sure enough, after about 10 minutes, he handed Jules his beer and stated with new energy, "There are plenty of fish in the sea. I have to find the right one, right?!" Jack jumped up and started walking to the doors. 

"Yes, just please be safe and smart and maybe go home alone tonight," Jules shouted to him as he strutted out the doors. 

Jules took a sip of the beer and sighed, starting to take her shoes off, enjoying the silence. When she heard the doors slam open and Jimmy Peters and his date for the evening tumbled though not breaking the sloppy kiss and handsy embrace, they were tangled in. They never noticed her as she grabbed her high heels and beer and left the room. She was in the hall on the way back, laughing to herself about the thought of giving Jimmy a hard time the next time she saw him when she heard the classic catcall whistle from behind her. 

She turned to find Ian Kildern, one of the team's defensive players. He was 6'4", muscled more than the average hockey player and curly brown hair with deep green eyes. His tux was well altered; it hung perfectly on him, showing his broad shoulders and narrow waist. Ian was an excellent player, intelligent, lightning-fast, and a great leader. He was 26 and had been in the league since he was 19. The Bruins had picked him up four years ago when his contract had been up with the Tampa Bay Lighting. They were friends, but Jules was closer to other players, and usually only had a small talk with easy, polite jokes. 

"Juliette Calloway, you clean up nice." He said in a semi-serious, mostly mocking tone.

"Shut up, Ian. Don't you have a date to dazzle like the rest of the team?" She said in a cheeky and light-hearted tone. 

"No, actually, Kelly and I broke up last weekend."

"Oh, that's right; her name was Kelly, and I'm so sorry to hear that after a week together, you had to call quits. You must be devastated. She said with a wink. Knowing fully, he had never planned on keeping it serious. Ian didn't sleep around a lot, but he also didn't keep girlfriends long. 

He chuckled, "Yeah, she was allergic to my dog." He changed the subject when he noticed the bottle in her hand, "You drinking alone - drowning your sorrows?"

"No, actually," she said in a matter of fact tone, "I was consoling my brother."

Ian's face squished up, and he sucked in a breath, "Yea, I saw - well heard the slap. Is he okay?"

"He's fine. It's his pride that's hurting more than anything, although he won't admit to it", She explained on a sigh. 

"Well, I'm glad he's okay. It's tough trying to figure everything out—the balance between the game and social life. Suddenly having money and not know if women want you the status or the money. It can be a rough and bumpy ride."He said with an understanding tone. 

"You sound like you have some experience, but you seemed to have figured it all out." 

 "I had my mistakes and issues, but the key difference is I didn't have a last name that's attached to 2 legends. Jack has a whole lot more spotlight from the league because of your dad and oldest brother. I could make my mistakes in private." 

"So, you had a girl slap you in front of your entire team and about 45 VIP guests?" Jules questioned, intrigued to hear his answer. 

"Okay, well, no, I never had that, but I did have a date throw up on me at an event one time. Rachel Madison, I'll always remember that name now. She hadn't eaten all day and then started doing shots of tequila. The smell was horrendous. It was like...

"Ew, I don't want to know! Please stop you win. That's disgusting." She fussed, cutting him off and giggling at the idea. 

"Well, then, Miss. Date Judger where is your perfect event plus one this evening." He asked mockingly, looking around the hallway they were slowly walking down. 

"Oh, I don't ever bring a date to an event that mom and I are running. I did once or twice and always felt bad that I left him standing somewhere while doing things for the event, plus dating in my life is hard. They tend to get offended when I know more about the game or jealous when I spend all my time here at the arena with you guys OR my brothers bully them, and they can't take the heat." 

They had almost reached the doorway to the main lobby, where the fundraising event was when Ian's ear perked up as he heard his favorite song come on. It Had To Be You by Harry Conick Jr. He grabbed her hand put the bottle of beer in her hand on the floor, and stated softly, "It's a great song - I wouldn't want it to go to waste since you don't have someone to dance with."

Surprised by the sudden change in tone, Juliette lost her voice a little and had to clear it before asking, "Ian Kildern, are you asking me to dance?"

He slowly started to pull her into his arms, saying in a volume just barely above a whisper, "I guess I am. Are you saying yes?"

"I guess I am." She said, staring into his eyes and falling into the sway of his body. Still stiff at first, she slowly drifted further into the daze the music mixed with his look and tone of voice had caused, eventually allowing her to melt completely into him. Neither spoke to busy enjoying the moment. It had been years since she had slow danced, and she was enjoying being wrapped in someone's arms. Not just any someone, but someone who had made her laugh and had been having a good conversation with, not to mention he smelled incredible. 

Ian couldn't believe he was dancing again. He had stopped bringing dates to events because it always fell short of what he wanted the evening to be. But with Juilette, he couldn't help but notice her laugh at his story or the way she had softened and molded to him as they danced. Hand in hand, his left hand rested at the small of her back, her head resting on his chest her right on his shoulder. She felt good in his arms. He felt something different for her, something he hadn't felt in a very long time. The music drifted away as the song ended, and they both stopped swaying. She pulled her head back but didn't pull away; she just looked at him, waiting for him to speak first, but Ian didn't want to say anything anymore. The smell of her vanilla perfume. The blush that had risen in her cheeks, the way she was waiting for him. He wanted to kiss her. He wanted to feel those soft pink lips pressed to his. Before he knew it, she was wetting her lips and starting to lean in because she had wanted it too. Never one to miss the opportunity; he leaned in and pressed his hand into her back more, drawing her closer. They were a whisper away from each other when Jimmy and his date exploded from the locker room with laughter, pulling Ian and Jules apart. Jimmy and his date rush by them and unseen to the car in the parking lot. 

"Well, it's late. I should be going," Ian said, trying to hide the disappointment that the moment was gone from his voice. 

"Uh, yea, it's late. I should be finding mom to see if she needs help with anything. Good night Ian and thank you for the dance.", She said, turning and walking away before he could say or do anything. 

It took a split second for him to decide, but he had made his choice he wanted her. He wanted to hold, kiss, love, and keep Juliette Calloway forever. 

Ian couldn't stop thinking about that night. It had been two weeks, and all he could think about was Juliette Calloway. He had been indifferent to her before that night. Ian had had conversations with her but always just regarded her as almost one of the guys. And now he couldn't get her out of his head. The way her eyes sparkled with what he hoped was lust and something more. The way she didn't back away from him and the chemistry in the air. He needed to do something, but what? 

Friday games were always Juliettes favorites. The offices were always more energetic with Friday games as everyone was excited to watch them. Juliette always ran home at lunch for an hour or so to let out Wayne, her Weimaraner, go potty and play, then she would change into her jersey and jeans. She would come back and finish up work, then relax until the game started. Today was no different. She got home and was greeted by Wayne's barks and excited tail. She let him into the backyard and threw her bag and keys on the counter. She loved her home. It was warm and welcoming with leather couches and natural linens. She left the back door open for Wayne to come back in and walked to her bedroom. She was opted for wearing Jack's jersey tonight, paired it with her black jeans and favorite booties. She was excited and happy about tonight's game. Hence, she decided on a smokey eye - if she was honest with herself, she was thinking about her evening with Ian when she had decided on it but pushed it away and assured herself it had nothing to do with him. Wayne had yet to come back in; she went in search of him to find him bathing in the sun and enjoying the day just as much as she was. She called him in, gave him a treat, and headed back to the arena. The game was at 7. The team usually came in about 5. Everyone in the offices had more than likely left for the day; she had a few more things to do when there was a knock at her office door. 

"Come in," she called to the knocker.

"Wow, nice digs," the knocker said with a low and slow whistle. 

Juliette's head snapped up. She had expected it to be a co-worker that was running behind or family. Her brother or mother would sometimes stop by, but she was not expecting him, "Ian...what are you doing here"? 

"Though I'd finally venture up to the offices. Poke around, see what it was like having an office job", he said, waltzing into the office looking around. His eyes settled on the wall of pictures and headlines. The wall was full of pictures of her brothers and father on the ice. It captured each of their timelines, from training to playing to winning championships at all different ages. A particular photo caught Ian's eye, and Juliette got up from her desk to join him. He looked fantastic in a suit more casual than the other night but still just as perfect. It was a solid black suit with a black button-down. He had the first few buttons undone. Juliette was standing next to him when he laughed to himself, saying, " Is this .. Henry?!" 

"Yea, it is. He was like 8 or 9. Mom loves that photo; he hates it", she said with a snicker. The photo was of Henry in full hockey gear. He was standing on the ice for the first game of the season when he slipped and fell. The camera had caught it just right, and all his limbs were up in the air, and his face read of terror and surprise, not know what had just happened.  

"I have to have the team come see this. Look at his bowl hair cut, "He cackled. 

" Don't you dare! He will kill me if he knows anyone from the team has seen it", she said hastily while grabbing his arm to stress the importance and implore him not to tell. 

He felt the electricity of her touch shoot through him. He was no longer focused on the photo but her. The way she smiled and was almost begging him not to spill her secret. He paused and looked at her hand on his arm. She realized what she had done with the casual touch, she could feel his muscle move, and she was immediately turned on and pulsed for him. When she tried to retract her hand, Ian grabbed it, placing a kiss on the top, and looked at her with seductive eyes while asking, "Are you begging me, Juliette?"

Juliette felt the innuendo to her core, and her stomach filled with butterflies. But she was no rose petal. She wanted him and wasn't going to melt for him like all the other women he was used to. She moved just a few inches closer and looked at him with a devilish smile, and asked, "Do you want me to?" Something inside Ian snapped. He couldn't hold himself back any longer. The look in her eyes mixed with her smile and words had him going practically feral. He gave the hand he was holding a tug, and she stumbled into his chest, her other hand landing in between them as she attempted to catch herself. Ian's other hand wrapped around her waist. He dropped her hand and slid his into her hair at the nape of her neck. He paused for a moment, making sure he still saw the same look in her eyes. He was thrilled to see it there but even more intense. He pulled her in and kissed her. 

The kiss was passionate, hard, and needy. Ian pulled ever so slightly on Juliettes hair, causing her to moan softly into his mouth, giving his tongue access to explore. He deepened the kiss, fingers digging into her side, causing more soft moans to escape her. He pulled back ever so slightly to give her air, but Juliette chased him, making him growl and start to grow hard. Juliette's heart was pounding her panties were becoming very wet. She wanted more. They both craved to feel each other skin to skin. When they both broke because they needed air, Juliette saw a softness in Ian's eyes. His thumb stroked her cheek for a split second while he started to ask her out on a date to dinner in a few nights when she cut him off, smirking, "I guess you should be going wouldn't want coach to see you be late to practice." Then with a quick kiss, smirk, and a hoard of giggles, she pushed Ian out of her office and locked the door behind her. Ian was still in shock as he walked from the office to the locker room, both from the kiss and that she had pushed him out without saying anything else. She had a fire and spirit he had certainly never seen before. Juliette slunk down into the couch in her office. She couldn't believe she had just done that. He was incredibly sexy, and she was very turned on. She could feel the blush creep into her cheeks. She knew she wanted him in more than a casual fling way. That's why she was going to play hard to get. Make Ian chase a little bit for once in his life.  

[honestsycrets]

What She Really Wants X: What Really Matters

❛ pairing | hvitserk x reader

❛ type | multi

❛ summary | hvitserk has a way of getting what he wants. magnus is sick of being one-upped.

❛  tags | verbal arguments, wedding oriented, referenced underage sex, referenced sexual interaction, underage relationships, original characters.

❛ sy’s notes | i've actually had this fic done for some months and totally forgot about it until i was in my drive. thank you @chibisgotovalhalla​ for making me feel good enough to post this. It’s more a connecting chapter.

What Magnus hates about Hvitserk (aside from everything) is how whatever he said, went with you. 

The world could crumble, pebbles could shake boulders on your house, and you would still have Hvitserk on your mind. Because he was your first-- and no one could beat a first. No matter how he worked or raged for a new beginning or for better for Mads. It was still Hvitserk at the end of the day. Mads’s eyes had almost popped out of his skull when Magnus joined the clustered group of friends and parents. It hadn’t gone unnoticed. 

“What did I miss?” he asks because he knows Mads by the expression slapped over his face. That boy has been like his son. He raised him. Loved him. 

“Nothing,” Mads quips quickly, snapping his head back around to the field. His coach howls something long and loud. Mads jabs his finger in that direction. “The game is about to start. C’mon Soren.” 

Despite the fact that Magnus knew there was a certain something very wrong, he didn’t speak as you returned to a very familiar set of bleachers alongside Mad’s new girlfriend. She was pretty. There was a soft and innocent glitter behind those big brown eyes that reminds him of a simpler time in yours. He makes a note to ask Mads after the game all about her when Hvitserk stops on the uppermost stair, guiding you in after Alaia. 

It’s not until they sit, and your hand is laced in Hvitserk’s, does he notice the gems glistening on your finger. 

“What’s that?” he asks, leaning over Alaia’s lap. The girl squints at the rings too, watching it glisten, and smiles when she realizes that she’s forgotten to say something. She speak words that make his stomach drop. As if someone had hauled him off to sea, strapped that very same boulder shook loose by his crumbling world, and threw him out into the deep sea. He was drowning and couldn’t find a way out.

“Oh my god! Congratulations on your engagement, mama,” she beams. “Can I see the ring?” 

Magnus sputters. He’s caught between your jovial smile and Hvitserk’s smug smirk as his eyes burned into the glittering gem. Hvitserk’s hand leaves yours, taking a drink of the metal tumbler that he brought with him as if that would draw attention away from what he’s done this time. 

“There’s two?” Alaia asks.”Papa you didn’t. You’ve gone so far!”

Hviserk chuckles and swashing alcohol between his cheeks before swallowing the spicy liquid. 

“We were engaged in high school. Hvitserk thought I should wear both.” 

“Gonna put that money to use,” Hvitserk mutters, the faint scent of yeasty alcohol on his breath kissing your cheeks. He looks out to the field and catches Mads sheepishly waving. He waves back. “Been waitin’ to get married to my old lady for years.” 

“It’s going to be so great,” she claps her hands together. “I’m happy for you.”

The field cheers through the end of the national anthem. Two dozen players jog onto the grassy stage, flicking the ball between their feet. Go Mads, go! Alaia squeals until her voice becomes high pitched, grating, and odd. She’s the kind of girl that should be on a cheerleading team, but belongs on the football team. She’s outgoing, witty, and you find you like her. 

For all that screaming, Mads’s team loses 2 to 1. Alaia beats you off the bleachers and zooms down the stairs to find your son. You’re stuck with the impending explosion that has been boiling to ahead all evening. It finally overflows as people filter out of the bleachers like a herd of stampeding cattle. Their loud chatter blocks out the bulk of conversation. 

“You really thought that was a good idea.” Magnus curls his fingers under the cold metal of the bleacher seat. “He hasn’t been back a year and you’re already going to marry him.” 

“What is with you? It is her choice,” Hvitserk interjects. 

“I wasn’t talking to you.” 

“Fuck off, rat faced motherfucker.” Hvitserk snaps. “You don’t know when to quit bitchin’.”

It’s spiraling. You know the men well enough to know when Magnus and Hvitserk are headed for trouble. Hvitserk loves a good fight. He lurches up in his seat, probably ready to chuck him down a few flights of bleacher stairs. You grasp Hvitserk’s hand, settling it on your thigh for to restrain him from doing something that you knew he’d regret. Not for his sake, but Mads. Rather than answer Magnus, you stand up and wipe your skirt down. 

“Mads is waiting. C’mon baby.”

You leave him feeling unheard. In the seventeen years that Mads had been alive, he’d not once felt this way. He had been the father figure here. The one who took the kid out to these father events that you lost with the death of your father and the disappearance of your family from Hvitserk’s clutches.

Then he came back. He gave Magnus that same, age-old shit-eating grin, and disappeared behind you. It wouldn’t have burned so much if he wasn’t at the exact same school of the past. The same one where he got his teeth knocked in-- right here. The bleachers may be different but the area is the same. It’s the same place where everything changed. He sits there long after you’ve disappeared down the steps to meet your son.

“Where’s morbror?” Mads, sweaty and panting, has his hand slung over Alaia’s shoulder.”I thought he was coming for burgers.”

You reach for Hvitserk’s hand and lace his fingers with yours. Hvitserk stands behind you with his hand latched neatly around your waist. He cradles your hip as you come up with the latest of poorly formulated excuses. 

“He has to go to work in the morning, baby.”

Better you lie than Hvitserk. 

 Alaia is way too touchy. 

You recognize it in the way she clings to his arm on one hand and punches him with the other. Whatever the cost was, she had to be touching him. All over him. Not just a little friendly kiss or holding hands, but you know for a damn fact that she strokes his thigh or trails up the taut pale muscles of his flat belly.

“They’re fucking,” you say pointedly. 

Hvitserk throws a look over his shoulder to where they were a few rows down. Alaia slips a salty-sweet strawberry candy between Mads’s lips. Alaia’s other hand is certainly not on her own lap, that’s for sure. 

“Huh?” Hvit says around a half eaten sausage. He takes a swig of his booze, “Ya think?”

You thwack him in the arm and glance at the dark aisle beside you. The movie Mads wanted to watch was old. So much so that the theatre reflected its age. “How is he not fucking her? Hvitserk!”

Hvitserk took a glance down. From what he could tell, Mads was the shy one. He glanced down to what had to be a handsy— because he had plenty of those in his day. 

“Calm down. He ain’t initiating anything.”

“So she’s a predator?” You hiss. 

“C’mon baby, they're the same age.” He says, as if that’s exclusionary, and as if that made any difference in the world. “Ain’t like he’s screamin’ for help.”

There’s a shush— the next few aisles down. 

“Aw, you poutin?” 

No reply. Hvitserk glances toward Mads and Alaia, content with his choice, and slips his hand underneath the lip of your skirt. He considers himself a rather patient man but your worries when all he wanted to do was relax? Na. 

“Hvit stop— We used to be like that. Remember?” Hvitserk cuts you off, rubbing his thumb where he shouldn’t, cutting an outrageous smile. 

“This isn’t about us.”

“Ain’t it?” 

It’s not. The soft tingles of his fingertips, caressing your thighs, runs shivers up your spine. Your hand falls on top of his wrist, holding him firmly where he was. Hvitserk glances down toward his hand, then back up. An easy fix: you loved it when he pressed his lips to your neck. 

“You’re doing it again.” 

Hvitserk’s lips part, broadening his shit eating smile. “Doing what?” 

Oh, he knew what. But he loved being called out for it.

His far isn’t bad at football.

“Fuckin’ what the fuck was that!” 

The ball whizzed into the goal behind him and Mads was left wheezing for breath. Not because he was tired. The old man might only be thirty-six but he sucked at playing against him. Hvitserk plucked up the football between his fingers and spun it over and over between his finger tips. He twisted his head from the goal to the ball in his hands.

“A goal,” Mads gestures. “You know? Or, guess you don’t since you ain’t scored all night.” 

“Shits rigged,” Hvitserk says, dropping the ball and kicking it back to Mads. 

Mads shrugs and suggests, “Should’ve picked something you’re good at. You won’t beat me at this.”

“Tch,” Hvitserk throws his arms behind his head. “I ain’ good at shit.”  

Except maybe selling drugs and chasing prostitutes. All of which his father has made exponentially clear he doesn’t want Mads doing. Mads stops with his sneaker on top of the ball, rolling it up and back, then flicks it between his feet. 

“Have to be good at something. Don’t you have a hobby or something?” 

Hvitserk peels off his white shirt sodden with sweat and uses it to wipe away the moist sweat dribbling past his eyebrow. He gestures his hand to the dark wooden wedding band that was strapped to his finger. The wedding is next week and while he’s not technically married yet, Hvitserk wore it as some sort of unspoken promise.

“My hobby was women. Not allowed to do that shit anymore. Getting married next week, yeah?” 

“Wow, well, uh.” Mads picks up the ball at his feet and searches for words. It’s always nice-- when your own son is amazed at how amazingly shitty of a person you were. Hvitserk chews his cheek, running his thumb along the drawstring at his hips to tighten it up. They walk lazily with one another to start the trek back home. 

“I...” Hvitserk starts. “Liked to paint.”

“Gang signs?” he teases. He imagines his father with a can of spray paint or something-- tagging some poor idiot’s unsuspecting business. 

“Na, women-- like Renoir.” 

“Ren who?” 

“I fuckin’ hope ya ain’t going to France like that,” he tsks his tongue, throwing his hand around Mads’s shoulder, chasing away the thought of the Wolves that were so at the forefront of his mind. “Take a class in French first.” 

“I’m taking Spanish.” 

“Spanish? Wha’s so important about-- oh wait. Fuck,” Hvitserk almost laughs, but it comes with the realization that Mads’s little girlfriend was, in fact, Hispanic. He ruffles Mads’s sweaty hair, shaking loose droplets into the air. “Tha’s my boy.” 

There are moments in which Mads feels like his father’s son.

Today was one of them. 

The date sped up on him faster than it should have.

This time, Hvitserk was insistent: the wedding had to happen as soon as possible. After all, he was thirty-six. He wasn’t going to be a man that was forty and single. No, he wasn’t. Not if he had everything he wanted; a woman and his very own grown-ass son. He had something to prove to that son. That he was serious about his family. 

“What’cha think,” Hvitserk grumbled. His hair, newly cropped short, waved in silky honey waves around the side of his face. His jaw was peppered with a new sort of scruff, worlds apart from his clean-shaven, long-haired past. The suit was slim, crisp, monochrome like you liked it. Better be like you liked it: he wasn’t the type to wear suits for just anyone. His woman? Special exception there.

His son stood back. “Yeah, looks nice.” 

“Yeah?” 

He slipped in front of the mirror and gave himself a once over. He turns the ring on his finger over and over until he has residual finger ring burn. He bites down on his lip, ripping it between his teeth. It wasn’t just saying goodbye to his single man’s life; it was the fact that his remaining brothers were coming. Bjorn, Ivar, and Ubbe. Would Mads like them?

“Where my boots?” 

He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t anxious. There’s a powerful thud at the door, then another. Booming laughs fill in the hallway just outside the room. Hvitserk exhales strongly. His large hand lands on Mads’s shoulder with a clasp. 

“Those would be your uncles.”

Mads, the little baby, looks panicked as the door cracks open. Ivar knocks open the door, dressed in a deep maroon and black suit. It’s crisp and formed to his chest. You should at least like it-- given the shit that Ivar has given you this year, he looks good. Why would be expect anything less?

“Man c’mon,” Hvitserk rolls his eyes. “Could’ve waited man. My kid--” 

“Why would I wait?” Ivar hums, hobbling forward. “You’ve been keeping my nephew hostage from me. Come here boy.” 

“With good reason,” Sigurd can’t help but to comment. “You don’t really want to know him. He’s a--” 

“Would you both shut up,” Mads hears another man say. He has ruddy hair and a ruddy beard, with sharp blue eyes. He is almost considerate-- if not for the wolfish look in his eyes, he could almost be considered the most placid of the brothers. Instead, he seems to be someone who is always planning. “You’ll scare him away.” 

Hviserk settles a lily in the pocket to his suit and fiddles with the cuffs of his sleeves. Strange, he thinks, how you pick lilies. They’re a bittersweet flower for him to this day. When he bought you flowers, they were roses. Whatever possessed you to chose lilies, he’s not sure. It couldn’t possibly be-- Thora. No, you couldn’t remember her.

“Far,” Mads looks over and pleads for some guidance in those soft, bright eyes of his. His eyes snap toward Ivar’s dragging feet, then the drunken stamped in from huge Bjorn and comparatively more calculated steps from Ubbe. “Help.” 

“What is there to be afraid of, hm?” 

“Go on, go to Ivar.” Hvitserk swings his hands at his hips. Mads looks up the broad body of the blond man and inches toward the darkest haired brother. Probably not the safest of brothers to be speaking to but he’s heard his name multiple times before. Uncle Ivar was scary. And safe. “They won’t hurt you. They’re my brothers.” 

“You want a drink, boy?!” 

“A dr-- drink?”

Hvitserk wonders why he ever thought he could be a Wolf.

Asta has always been supportive. Too supportive. You knew, somewhere inside, she wasn’t happy about your choice to get married to a man that had gotten her into some trouble. Her whole life could have gone down the tubes thanks to him. 

“Are you sure about this?” she said in her slim baby pink maid-of-honor dress. Your hairdresser affixed a soft baby pink pearl pin into your hair. “You can always wait like we said.” 

“Waiting…” You glanced down toward your dress, smoothing out the dress’s slim bodice, leading out into its flowy a-line tulle skirt. Your loved the crisscrossing pearls that formed the straps over your shoulder and connected front and back-- maybe a little sexy for your hypersexual husband-to-be. Everything had gone perfectly. Your make up-- a natural, gentle shimmery pink. Everything was soft and natural, and pretty-- and you were so damn happy. “I’ve been waiting long enough.” 

“I know.” 

“And I want to do it,” you held the bouquet of fresh pink lilies. “I want him.” 

“That’s too much information,” she teases.

The door creaked open behind you. While subconsciously, you knew that it wasn’t him-- you needed to know. “Magnus isn’t coming, is he?” 

“It’s just me, mor.” 

You exhale forcefully. You knew it would be a stretch to ask Magnus to give you away. After what happened to your father, Magnus had agreed to do so with whoever you chose. For sixteen years you banked on that promise. Only now, when it came down to it, he refused to do so. 

“It’s a silly tradition anyway.” 

Asta begins to protest that she can do it when your son, bless him, intervenes by kneeling down by your knee. His large hands overtook yours. Your hairdresser stepped aside after having affixed the veil to the top of your head. Everything had been going so well. Something… had to go wrong, right? That was the way that days went. They could never be absolutely perfect! 

“I’ll do it. I can give you away.”

“You’d do that?” you ask him, unbelievably. You look between Asta-- and Alaia, who looks angelic in a puffy pink dress beside your son. Mads perches kneels beside you, looking like all the man you ever hoped he could be in every sleepless night that you spent up with him as a baby-- wishing that Hvitserk was there. Knowing that your mother said he could never be. 

“But you thought I should wait.” 

“Yeah but; I love you. That’s what matters, right? That you’re happy?” 

That, more than anything, was enough for you. You press back the insistent prick of heat at the corner of your eyes and nod. As you stand up on clumsy metal heels, your boy is there with his hand encouragingly around your waist. Alaia looks for your bouquet of assorted blush and white flowers: lilies.

For a moment-- just a moment, its you and him. No one else matters in the grand scheme of things. He settles the bouquet of flowers between your fingertips, pulling the sheer veil back over your face. “You look… perfect, mor. He’s missing out.” 

“Yeah, that’s what matters, baby.” 

@tephi101 @alicedopey @supernaturalvikingwhore @tootie-fruity @titty-teetee @queen-see-ya-in-valhalla @ethereallysimple @deathbyarabbit @deathbyarabbit @readsalot73 @natalie-rdr @lol-haha-joke​ @lisinfleur @hissouthernprincess @marvelousse @dangerous-like-a-loaded-pistol @vikingsmania @wish-i-was-a-mermaid @lif3snotouttogetyou @gruffle1 @cris101071 @gold-dragon-slayer @babypink224221 @wonderwoman292 @naaladareia @beyond-the-ashes @generic-fangirl @chinduda @laketaj24, @peaceisadirtyword, @ly–canthrope @cris101071 @daughterofthenight117 @unassumingviking @ladyofsoa, @inforapound @winchesterwife27 @feyrearcheron44@readsalot73 @squirrelacorngliterfarts @gold-dragon-slayer @medievalfangirl @sallydelys  @bluearchersstuff @affectionrabbitt @whatamood13 @notyouraveragegirl17 @igetcarriedawaywithyou @unacceptabletatertots @ivarandersen @stra-vage @tgrrose @cookies186 @learninglemni-blog @theleeshanotlouise @soiproclaim @msmorganforever @destynelseclipsa @soleil-dor @strangunddurm

[ahgaseda]

phoenix | one

I’ll be the phoenix, leave it to me, we be flying, spread your wings behind your back, they call us phoenix, ride or die, ride or die...

summary : the clock is ticking as you recount your passionate affair with Jackson, the most wanted man in Shanghai, to the people trying desperately to catch him, but no one - including you - knows if he will risk his life to save yours.

warnings : strong profanity, explicit dialogue, mentions of blood and violence, references to drug and alcohol use, graphic sexual content, self-destructive themes, potentially triggering elements involving kidnapping, arson, etc.

miniseries chapters : one / two / three / four / five / six / seven

The chains rattled on the steel table. The cold cuffs wrapped around your wrists were anchored to the surface, looped through a bolt. You weren’t going anywhere anytime soon.

It had been a quiet Thursday night. Nothing out of the ordinary to note. You left your apartment and went out for dinner. The steak was cooked just right. Your company of friends were lighthearted and buzzing from wine, but for once didn’t grill you about your relationship.

On the way home, you were ambushed. You put up a fight, of course, knowing all the while it was futile. The men had descended on you like thieves in the night and none of them were gentle.

Shoved into a chair and fastened to the table, you were read your rights, but by their tones, you had none. Five hours had passed since your less than legal arrest. The clock slipped past midnight a while ago. There was no telling when you would be reported missing, if at all.

Your closest friends knew you vanished from time to time. It was that good for nothing guy you dated, whisking you away to god knows where, they often jeered. Envy was ugly.

He was on your mind. He would notice your absence. Especially the empty space left in his bed.

The detective slapped a file in front of you, but the loud smack that echoed through the room did little to rouse you at this ungodly hour. He was middle-aged and the lines of his face were hard, furrowed. You wondered about the kind of people often in your current position. Gangsters, killers, and the like. You had done nothing to warrant the same treatment.

“Am I being charged with a crime?” you asked, poised and calm as you had been trained. You tossed the idea of trying to speak to them in their native tongue the moment you were booked. Your Mandarin was rudimentary and would likely get you into more trouble. “You have no right to hold me here, chained up like a criminal.”

He shot back, “You are at the center of a government investigation.”

Those words alone should have sent your heart somewhere to the pit of your stomach, but you knew better. All your life, you had been a law abiding citizen. But they treated you like you were wickedness personified.

“I’ve done nothing wrong,” you replied, head held high. You dared not give them an inch. You couldn’t afford it.

He glanced at you over the rim of his glasses, eyes scathing. His reply was bitter, dripping with disdain, “Your lover has done plenty.”

You didn’t argue. It was abundantly clear you had no rights in this damned metal box. Lover; the word lingered in your mind a second or two. Yes, he was your lover. No man had loved you like him and no man ever would again.

Was he in love with you? Not even God knew the answer to that.

The detective finally took the seat across from you, in an attempt of appearing more diplomatic. His shouting and intimidation had gone nowhere.

“Tell me about your relationship with Jackson Wang.”

Your eyes fluttered. Just hearing his name made your heart spin. The boy owned you - mind, body and soul. Lacing your fingers together in front of you, you lied, “I don’t have one.”

The detective snorted. Then, he withdrew a photo from the file and placed it before you.

There you were in black and white, centered in a scope that for all you knew could have belonged to a sniper’s rifle, caught up in Jackson’s arms as he kissed you with abandon. Passion flowed freely from every inch of the photograph. It belonged on display in a gallery for twisted, ill-fated lovers.

You could still remember that day in the picture clearly, how it felt when he pushed you up against the window. The glass was frigid on your back, but did nothing to rival the heat of his body against yours.

Jackson always felt as if he carried the entirety of Hell inside him.

You lifted your gaze from the image at last and murmured, “A moment of weakness… a long time ago.”

The detective didn’t believe you for a second. He rifled through more pages in the file and fanned them out in front of you. “Phone records. Travel logs. Looks like you live in a constant moment of weakness,” he sneered. There was no doubt he resented having to share the same oxygen as you; a woman that willingly slept with the devil himself.

“I do,” you retorted, almost regretting the words when they left your tongue.

The detective raised his voice angrily, “Jackson Wang is singlehandedly running the underworld of Shanghai and is a major player in the open rebellion against the People’s Republic.”

You swallowed the lump in your throat. One day you knew you would be confronted with what he was, what he had done. There were nights you lay awake, wondering if you slept in the arms of a murderer.

The detective tapped his finger on the table and the noise brought back your attention. His face was severe, red from stifling his rage. To him, you were a valuable pawn, but a pawn nonetheless. His ass was on the line. Perhaps you were the one and only chance he would get at piercing Jackson’s armor.

“I have no information to give,” you answered quietly. “I know nothing of that. Nothing.”

He had gathered that. From the months they had you under surveillance, you were never seen near any of Jackson’s businesses or his known safe houses. He went to great lengths to keep you at a distance from his work.

“Given the nature of his crimes and how viciously he runs his underlings, what would happen if we were to… leak that you were in here, singing like a canary?”

The first threat of the night. You knew it wouldn’t be the last.

You scoffed. He knows I would never betray him. It didn’t matter what Jackson did, you were loyal. Jackson had the ability to inspire loyalty in those close to him. He tolerated many, many things, but disloyalty was not one of them.

The detective lifted a brow, thinking your silence meant he had found an edge. “Have you seen what he does to his enemies?”

Your expression didn’t change. No, he made sure I never saw.

Jackson was ruthless when he took his pleasure from your body. Even more merciless when he buried his head between your thighs. You could only imagine how intensely he ran his underworld.

“Do you know nothing of what he is?” the detective exclaimed, incredulous.

He never wanted me to know, your thoughts wavered.

The world didn’t exist when you were with Jackson. Together, it was just you and him, and everyone else be damned. Every moment spent with him was a lifetime unto itself.

A spontaneous trip to Maldives. An impromptu midnight ride on his yacht in the harbor of Hong Kong. A weekend in South Korea spent locked away in a riverside cottage with only the birds to witness your sins.

Jackson had money. There was no denying that. But so did you. You had made a fortune in your line of work and from then on, no one could buy your attention or affection. Jackson was different. He didn’t shower you with designer clothes or heavy diamonds. He paid attention. Learned your interests and kept you on your toes. He understood you to be like some beautiful mystery in need of solving.

You bit your lip, tears pricking your eyes. You wanted Jackson, wanted to be safe in his arms, hidden against his chest. You loved him. God, you loved him with every fiber of your being. He had taught you how to live again. He showed you there was still a soul somewhere inside you.

Even if his own had been burned out of him.

Clearing your throat and pushing back your emotions, you asserted, “For your own safety, don’t show me anything and don’t leak that you have me in here against my will.”

The man before you bristled with wrath, jaw clenching. “For my own safety?”

You frowned. It was not your intention to anger him. You just needed to keep buying time.

The detective stood abruptly, knocking over his chair and shouting, “Is Jackson going to come for his whore?”

You winced, more so at the screeching sound of his chair scraping the ground than the unsavory words. You weren’t surprised that was how they saw you.

They had probably sent women to seduce Jackson before. Find a crack in his walls to exploit. They must have waited years for him to finally have someone he could love, someone to ultimately break him.

The detective began circling the room, like a vulture spiraling around its next meal. You weren’t afraid. There were laws in place for situations like these. At least, you hoped they still applied to you.

I have to get out, you thought. You steadied your breathing and remembered what you had been taught.

Being held captive was something you had rehearsed many times. Jackson tried to chase you off once. He didn’t want you to live in a constant state of danger because of what he was. Then, Jackson realized he had been waiting his whole life to find you - the person who completed him. And that’s when he started preparing you.

In fact, rehearsing being in police custody was one of your favorite roleplays.

You remembered being led into a tiny room, no larger than a closet. Bound to the only chair, Jackson had stormed in and treated you like a traitor. But you knew how soft he was for you, and how bad of a liar he was, and had seen through the ruse all too quickly.

Nevertheless, he wanted you to be ready for whatever the dirty cops would throw at you should the day come you were in their clutches.

“Baby, had I known you were going to tie me to a chair, I would have worn something a little more seductive,” you teased, licking your lips.

With your hands overlapped and cuffed behind your back, your shoulders were pressed to the top of the chair rather uncomfortably. Jackson skulked before you, not uttering a word. His face was shadowed, dark and menacing. All it did was turn you on.

With heat in your eyes, rather than look demure or nervous, you spread your legs.

Jackson let his gaze fall to your parted thighs, clad in black pantyhose. He had bought you the red bottom heels you were wearing and fuck, if they didn’t make your legs look longer. Without a word, he bent down before you, taking your ankle in hand and slipping off the shoe.

You watched in surprise as he tossed both shoes to the wall where they clattered loudly. No distractions, you mused, wanting to giggle.

Jackson saw your little smirk and fought a grin. You weren’t fooled by him in the least. He stalked across the room, coming to stand behind you with a hand gliding up your arm.

You shivered when his fingers found your neck.

“We have ways of making you talk, sweetheart,” he whispered darkly.

“Mm,” you hummed, breathing heavier as his hands stroked your jaw and throat. With every pass of the rough strokes of his palms, they moved further south. You sucked in a gulp of air when his fingers grasped the buttons of your blouse.

Glancing down, you watched him unfasten one button. Then another and another.

“What do you want me to say?” you asked softly, pulsing with adrenaline.

Jackson traced the pads of his fingers down the lines of your cleavage, which he already knew quite intimately, and grinned at the sight of your blood red bra. Also a gift he had bought for you. Perhaps you wore the matching panties beneath your skirt.

It went without saying that red was his color.

You shuddered when you felt his breath hot on your neck, lips brushing your ear. Your hair stood on end. Electricity prickled across your skin. His touches on your breasts were maddening, drawing senseless patterns that only served to stir a fire between your legs.

“I want you to say,” he replied venomously in your ear. “That you’re going to give me everything I want.”

You gulped, shifting in the chair. That voice was lethal, drawing you into a heady fog that almost made you forget the purpose of this roleplay in the first place. And his hands cupping your clothed breasts were even worse. Jackson had godlike hands. Long fingers. Bulging veins. Your mouth watered.

“I’m waiting,” he taunted, taking a patch of flesh on your neck between his teeth.

You quickly asked, “What is it that you want?”

Jackson squeezed your mounds, tugging down the cups of your crimson bra to expose your nipples, pinching them between his deft fingers. With how badly you squirmed on top of the chair, it was safe to say his hands alone were doing a number on you.

“Jack…,” you started, about to tap out. You needed him to soothe the ache he had created.

Jackson caressed your nipples with his thumbs, smirking at the way your chest rose and fell for breath. “Where is the money?” he growled, trying to sound vicious.

You shook your head in defiance. “I never cared about the money.”

Jackson flicked his tongue over the blemish he had made on your neck, one of his hands leaving your chest to wrap around your throat. His next question sounded more like an accusation, “Are you saying you don’t trade him your body for money?”

You snickered. “I give him my body because I love what he does with it,” you purred, snapping your jaws as if you were going to bite him in retaliation.

“Good girl,” Jackson said with a chuckle, thoroughly pleased with you.

You smiled victoriously. Whenever he said those two little words, you melted into his hands. The man could play your body like an instrument. He could draw the devil out of you like poison to dance with his own.

Jackson pressed a single chaste kiss to your temple. Then his thumb and forefinger gripped your neck, suddenly pressing to your blood flow. Your vision clouded and thrummed. The room began to fade. When you felt a hand dip between your legs and settle on your clothed sex, you knew you had passed the test and would get your reward.

You found yourself back in the present, crossing your legs beneath the steel table. It did you no good to think of Jackson and the power he had over your body. Always leaving you satisfied, shaking and screaming. He took pride in making a complete and utter mess of you, ruining you for anyone else.

The detective resumed his threats, but his voice faded into static. He offered to toss you in a cell and throw away the key. But in your mind, you were back in Jackson’s bed, naked save for his dress shirt as he told you what to expect.

“They’ll try to scare you into talking,” he said levelly, sporting only a towel around his waist after a hot shower. “If you flinch, they’ll escalate. Find your happy place and don’t give them an inch. Never let them know you’re afraid.”

You nodded, distracted by the fiery tattoo that covered the full expanse of his back. Jackson was a perpetual distraction.

“Then, they’ll switch it up. Offer you a deal. They may give you full immunity if you give me up,” Jackson continued, focusing on your face to see your reaction.

You rose to your knees, shuffling to the edge of the bed and grabbing him by the hips. Pulling him close, you pressed a kiss to his lips and crooned, “Ride or die, babe.”

Jackson rewarded you with another kiss, but pulled back the moment you tried to slip him your tongue. His expression turned grim. “Then, they might turn off the camera. Might start threatening you with pain.”

You shook your head. Being with him made you brave. “I’m not afraid of pain.”

Jackson cupped your cheek, stroking his thumb over your soft skin, and whispered, “I won’t be there to protect you, but I promise on my life… something bad will happen to them when they least expect it.”

“Just get me back to you, back to where I belong,” you told him impatiently, carding your fingers into his damp hair and teasing your tongue over his bottom lip before kissing him again. At the time, you wanted him to hush this line of conversation, wanted him to focus on the precious time spent together.

What you didn’t know was that the noose had been tightening and Jackson was setting things in motion.

For a moment, he indulged you, sucked eagerly at your tongue in his mouth and kneaded your hips in his broad hands.

Finally, he stopped you, cradling your face and staring intently into your eyes. “You need to know this,” he whispered in hushed tones. “The cops are dirty. Corrupt, every last one of them.”

You nodded your understanding and made sure never to forget it.

The door opened and you snapped out of your reverie, the detective joined by another officer that had been one of the men to participate in your violent arrest. He strode in forcefully, a phone you swiftly recognized as your own held in his hand. The device was hooked to a number of wires and receivers.

“Here, talk to your bitch,” he snapped harshly.

The officer grabbed a handful of your hair and shoved the phone to your ear.

You groaned at the stiff tug on your head and answered confusedly, “...Hello?”

“Baby,” was all Jackson said.

“I’m fine,” you spoke like a well-rehearsed robot, looking up to make eye contact with the man holding your hair in his fist. “They are treating me very well.”

The officer shouted loud enough for your lover to hear, “She’s being a very cooperative cunt, Mr. Wang.”

You bristled, practically feeling Jackson’s wrath through the phone.

“Baby girl, rest assured,” he hissed under his breath and you had never heard his voice devolve into such a growl. “They are all dead men.”

You flashed your teeth in a grin at the man gripping you so roughly and sang, “Yes, Daddy.”

The line clicked dead.

“Damn it,” the officer groaned, releasing you none too gently.

The door swung inward again, causing the man beside you to jump. Whoever had just entered was clearly a superior, because the others bowed deeply.

“Out,” said the stranger with little to no patience, dressed in a crisp charcoal suit.

You watched the two shuffle through the door, metaphorical tails tucked between their legs. It was a relief to be free of them. Though you now had a new enemy to confront.

The interrogator spoke your name in greeting, offered a warm and somewhat reassuring smile, and introduced himself, “I’m Park Jinyoung.”

“Korean,” you mulled in surprise. “What are you doing in Shanghai, Mr. Park?”

He looked barely Jackson’s age, but you already respected him more than the others because of his kind manners. He wasn’t here to play any violent games with you.

“I was about to ask you the same question, Mrs. Wang,” he retorted, pointing at the ring on your left hand.

“I’m not his wife,” you were quick to correct, overlapping your hands to hide the piece of jewelry. It was the most precious thing you owned. You sighed in relief when they hadn’t removed it during your arrest process.

Jinyoung approached and withdrew a key from his pocket, unfastening your cuffs. You caught a glimpse of the gun strapped to his hip and decided not to cross him. Once you were free, he sat down comfortably across from you, unfastening the button of his coat.

You murmured a small thank you and studied him carefully. He was a far different entity than the corrupt detectives.

“I apologize for the unsavory care that has been given to you in here,” Jinyoung said, seemingly genuine. “From what I understand, this is hour five for you.”

You nodded. “Spent the first hour being read my rights. The only word out of my mouth was lawyer. Then, no lawyer in sight, hour two they left me in here to sweat,” you told him as you rubbed your aching wrists. “I didn’t sweat.”

Jinyoung bobbed his head as you spoke, as if he was well aware of all that, adding, “And as I saw, he has already been in contact.”

You sighed. “Not long enough to get a trace.”

Given the officer’s reaction when Jackson hung up, you gathered that much.

Jinyoung smiled. He was almost amused. Opening his notebook to a blank page, he tapped his pen and said, “We both know they won’t get anything from you. You’re not going to crack.”

You tilted your head. “Are you interested in finding a way to break me, Mr. Park?”

Jinyoung was a master tactician, highly respected for his intellect. He had been watching from behind the tinted glass. Your behavior with him was a stark contrast than with the detectives. You had been trained. You were more at ease with him. Jinyoung realized he didn’t put any fear in you. And that was an advantage for him.

Jackson’s words echoed in your mind, “If someone comes in from the outside, a different agency or a different country, he or she will be the real deal. They will have been hunting me for a long time and will see you as a key to finally bringing me down.”

Jinyoung’s delayed response cut through your thoughts, “I’m more interested in how someone like you became involved in this. Level with me. How did you meet the one and only Jackson Wang?”

You shrugged. “Why do you care? It won’t help you find him.”

Jinyoung uncapped his pen, ready to write, and pressed, “Some girls are drawn to men like him. Men with violent, dangerous power.”

“I never knew about his powers,” you shot back vehemently. Was he implying you were insane for loving someone like Jackson?

“I’ve spent the greater portion of my professional career in a cat and mouse game with him,” Jinyoung confessed, trying to smooth your feathers. “Help me get to know him better.”

“You’re the mouse,” you smarted.

Jinyoung glanced up through hair straying into his eyes. With a smirk, he scribbled something at the top of his blank page and said, “Whenever you’re ready.”

You exhaled loudly.

The last of Jackson’s warnings rang in your ear. “If they’re the real deal, buy time. Get a feel for them. Figure out what it is they’re after and how they want to use you. And then, whatever you do, don’t give it to them.”

Glancing down at your nails, noticing one or two had broken in your scuffle during your shady, back alley arrest, you began, “I met him at some ritzy, overpriced hotel. It had been a shit day. Another board meeting of senior partners where no one gave a damn what I had to say. As long as our stocks came out unscathed, they didn’t care if the rest of the world was about to go to hell…”

You had been sitting at the bar, manicured nails drumming on the black marble. The bartender kept a steady flow of red wine coming your way and you sipped your glass in an attempt to clear your head of all its moral conscience.

It was a wonder you had lasted this long and you pondered how much longer you could keep going. You never imagined selling your soul to a corporation, playing with people’s lives. It had all just been numbers and math, at which you excelled, and then the corruption steadily seeped into you.

“Another crisis, Luke,” you told the bartender.

He tossed a cloth over his shoulder and retorted, “Another Tuesday, madame.”

You chortled and put the glass to your lips. “That’s the truth if I ever heard it,” you mumbled bitterly.

You saw the numbers. Numbers were your expertise. The market would crash. Much, much worse than before. Hard-working people would lose their retirements, their livelihoods. Some would never recover. Meanwhile, you and your bosses would roll in cash and the government would cut the banks a giant check to fix the disaster they had created.

Looking at your hands, you marveled how clean they looked for being so stained and filthy.

Luke glanced at the television overhead, where you had asked him to switch to the financial channel. The bell was chiming. The market had closed, deep in the red. No surprise there.

You glared at the screen. They had no idea what was coming tomorrow morning. People worked hard, but greed worked harder.

Luke turned to you, pointing at the coverage, and inquired curiously, “That kind of crisis?”

You tipped your glass toward him for more wine and nodded. “Now is the time to pull out.”

“My pull out game has never been good,” Luke quipped after topping off your drink.

You nearly spat your wine with laughter and your stomach ached. Fuck’s sake, when was the last time you laughed?

“Dammit, Luke. How am I supposed to cut in now?”

You angled to the man who had been seated a few stools down from you.

Luke held up his hands in defense, smirking with satisfaction.

The first thing you noticed about Jackson Wang was his smile. It was warm, undeniably playful, yet something about it put you at ease. Most men in your field had smiles that warned of danger or bad intentions.

Your eyes met and Jackson could see right off the bat you were unimpressed. It had been a rough day and you were in no mood to flirt. So Jackson decided to finesse, which luckily was his specialty.

Turning back to your wine and tasting it on your tongue, you tried not to steal another glance or two at the handsome man at the bar.

“Should I unload my portfolio?” Jackson asked, wanting your attention.

You looked at him out of the corner of your eye and feigned disinterest, “What’s your pleasure?”

He cocked his head and joked, “I’m surprisingly vanilla.”

You rolled your eyes and deadpanned, “In stocks.”

Jackson recognized that icy tone of a woman who did not have a single fuck to give him and knew he would need to melt you a little. You had caught his eye at the bar, but beautiful women were a commodity in his line of work.

At first he dismissed your glowing skin beneath the bar lights and your big beautiful eyes glistening with unshed tears. You almost hooked him with that tight black dress and the way it hugged your every curve. And your legs, hot damn, keeping his eyes off of those had been even harder.

Then, he heard you speak. You talked with intellect and eloquence, and he was ready to hire you to narrate the rest of his life. He realized you may have some intelligence in that pretty head of yours and that snared his attention.

Because Jackson had learned long ago he was very, very easily bored. And the vapid nonsense that came out of the mouths of the girls he tended to attract with his money just didn’t cut it for him anymore.

The pursuit was on.

“Mostly gold, some silver. A few auto brands,” he replied, attempting to sound humble.

You answered expertly, “Gold and silver will bounce back in the long run. They always do. Some auto manufacturers may not survive, but just the American ones are at risk. And more than likely Uncle Sam will bail them out like last time.”

Jackson winced, but it was for effect. “Bye-bye, Cadillac.”

You chuckled.

Jackson sobered a little, frowning at the television. “Another crash, huh?”

“You didn’t hear it from me,” you whispered under your breath, sipping your wine and knowing every time you opened your mouth, you jeopardized your entire company.

In the morning, when the opening bell rang, your firm would unload all of its dirty, worthless stock to unsuspecting buyers, and the market would collapse like clockwork.

Numbers didn’t lie.

“I trust your expertise,” Jackson flirted, voice like silk.

You gave him a sideways glance, not convinced. More than likely he was just trying to get into your pants. “Most men get turned off when I speak with expertise in my field,” you said, running a hand through your hair.

Jackson shook his head and retorted, “I’m not most men.”

You giggled; how predictable. “That’s what they all say.”

But you knew now that he was right.

As the conversation went on, Jackson moved closer and closer. By the time he sat at your side, his presence was a welcome one. After another glass of wine, you started leaning into him.

You talked about everything. Topics shifted from the market to the weather to international travel and finally to your favorite subject, good food. You were never one for small talk. In fact, you hated it. But Jackson spoke like he could match your rhythm.

He didn’t shy away from more complicated discussions. He didn’t bat an eye when you challenged his opinions. He could keep up with a little verbal sparring and seemed to enjoy it as much as you did. And he never tried to dumb you down like so many men before him.

Finally, after you didn’t back away when he moved dangerously close to you, Jackson cut to the chase and teased, “Don’t act like you’re not feeling me.”

You laughed, but there was no weight behind it.

Jackson shuffled closer and murmured, “I see you.”

You blinked up at him innocently. “What do you see?”

The corner of his mouth lifted. “I can’t explain it, but I could try if you wanted me to.”

It had been a long time since you indulged a man to sweet talk you or romance you or even get you into bed with him. You had given up on the opposite sex not long after you began ascending the ladder at work and learned the vast majority of them were threatened by your success.

Jackson was not the least bit intimidated by you. At this point, he was a goddamn unicorn.

“Explain it to me,” you whispered slyly, realizing his lips were mere inches from yours.

Jackson moved even closer and whispered for your ears only, “You’re gravity. You’re a magnet. I can’t stop getting closer.”

You lowered your head, hiding the heat quickly rising behind your cheeks.

Jackson slipped his fingers beneath your chin and tilted you back up to meet his unwavering eyes.

It was the first time he touched you.

“I want you,” he said, a low rumble of a growl in his throat.

Your eyes flickered, faltering under how intensely he looked at you. You wanted desperately to hide how badly his words and voice affected you, and you sneered, “Does that line work?” You had to keep him on his toes in this little dance. You weren’t ready to surrender yet.

Jackson wasn’t going to let you have the upper hand anymore. He knew you were what he wanted and he was coming in for the kill. “You tell me,” he spoke, more aggressive. “You’re the first woman to hear that from me.”

You pouted when his fingers slipped from your chin, satisfied he had made his point. “You’re smooth,” came your reply, a little hesitant from the tension. “I’ll give you that.”

Jackson slouched comfortably on his bar stool and said, “I’ve flashed the watch, the rings. Most girls get very friendly once they’ve seen sparkly rocks.”

You clicked your tongue and snorted. “If you only knew how much money I make.”

Jackson tried another approach. “So I can’t buy your affections?”

With a shake of your head, you crooned, “Sadly, not for sale.”

“Fine,” Jackson said, noncommittal and rather abrupt.

You panicked. It sounded like he was about to throw in the towel. Your heart began to beat a little faster against your ribs.

Jackson gulped what was left of his drink and set the glass back down loudly on the bar. Adjusting his tie, Jackson rose to his feet and peered down at you, whispering, “Tell me you’re not feeling me and I’ll go. And you’ll never have to see me again.”

That was not a welcome thought.

At your silence, Jackson pulled a wad of cash from his pocket and handed it to Luke. “Mine and the lady’s tabs, pal,” he said, driving the last nail into the coffin.

You reached out and grabbed his sleeve without hesitation, gazing up at him with naive eyes. You had no idea then what you were getting yourself into.

“Don’t…,” you whispered bashfully, cheeks flushing again.

Jackson moved back to your side, a victorious smile on his face.

You saw his grin and chuckled, realizing you’d been beaten in the game.

Jackson cupped your cheek and leaned in with confidence, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

Your lashes fluttered. He smelled good, ridiculously good. You wanted to bury your face in the crook of his neck and breathe him in.

Jackson resisted the urge to slip his hands in your hair and kiss you like he really wanted. Your skin was soft; so soft he wanted to trace his lips over every inch of you and write his name with his tongue across your body.

You managed to hold onto some semblance of self-control throughout the elevator ride. The tension was thick. The air was heavy. No words passed between either of you. And you stood at opposite corners of the elevator.

Jackson led you down the hallway, your hand tucked inside his. The moment he stopped at door 309, the two of you were on each other.

“You’ve got some nerve getting me turned on like this,” you teased, panting softly.

Jackson’s lips were on your neck, his arms around your waist. He crushed you between his body and the wall, and you couldn’t be happier. After that comment, he pulled back to look into your eyes and smirked, nipping at your lips.

You took his face in your hands and smashed your lips on his. It went without saying that you really liked kissing Jackson. It was all you wanted to do for the foreseeable future. He tasted of liquor and really bad choices.

Jackson wedged a knee between your thighs and made room for his hips to fit between. You moaned into his mouth, tempted to lock your ankles behind his back, but rather conflicted about it. Were you going to hook up with him? Your first thought was an emphatic yes.

Your hands roamed over his shoulders and back, feeling taut muscles underneath his expensive suit. He was hard like iron, thick thighs bracing you against the wall. His hands wandered too, exploring your body, finally able to touch those curves.

Despite his hold on you and your tongue down his throat, Jackson managed to pull the keycard from his back pocket and swipe it over the panel. You heard the familiar beep of the hotel door unlocking, followed by Jackson pushing it open.

Mumbling against his mouth, you grabbed his wrist and pulled, blurting, “We can’t.”

“What…,” Jackson exclaimed, his lips red. “Why?”

“Because,” you huffed, letting your head fall back against the wall in defeat. “If I go in there, we’re gonna fuck.”

The words alone made a certain something twitch in his pants. Jackson fought a chuckle and gave you a glance over. You were already disheveled and breathless, and he hadn’t even touched you yet. “Is that so?” he taunted, expression full of boyish energy.

“Yeah,” you exhaled, still at war with yourself. Then, you leaned into his chest and collided your lips back to his.

Jackson smiled against your mouth, tightening his arm around your waist and meeting the rush of your kisses. He took them to mean you changed your mind and swiped the key card again.

Hearing the chime of the door, you grabbed the lapel of his suit with both hands and broke away. “No, we can’t.”

Jackson laughed, amused by you. “Okay. Okay,” he relented.

“Sorry, but…,” you trailed, still trapped in his arms. “I’ve never fucked anyone I just met.”

“Me neither,” he replied softly.

You cocked a brow. No one gave a damn if men had sex with every human that passed their sight. For that reason, you were inclined to believe him.

Jackson pulled the door closed and pressed the sweetest of kisses to your lips. When he stopped, your eyes fluttered open and you peered up at him.

“Gravity,” was all he said, chuckling to himself.

Yeah, you felt it, too.

Running your fingers into his hair and tugging gently, you ordered, “Keep kissing me.”

Jackson didn’t need to be told twice.

The rushed, hurried kisses were over. Now that the two of you weren’t sprinting to the bedroom, you could focus on how your tongues danced in each other’s mouths. Jackson stroked a hand down your thigh and hooked your leg over his hip, needing to be as close as humanly possible to you.

When his lips moved back to your neck, you rolled your eyes and the catch in your breath almost sent him to his knees.

“Can I take you to breakfast in the morning?” he asked between kisses.

“Yes,” you replied, fingers pressed to his shoulders.

Jackson proceeded to suck a mark of possession beneath your ear. “And dinner tomorrow evening?”

You were out of your mind, insane with lust and desire. Sweat was beginning to gather beneath your dress, courtesy of the fire burning inside him. “Absolutely.”

Jackson licked the bruise he was making, tasting your skin. “How about the day after that?”

You groaned in frustration. He was making it fucking impossible. “And the day after that. Just don’t stop kissing me,” you whined, bringing his face back to yours for another kiss.

You blinked your eyes rapidly, dismayed to find you weren’t in Jackson’s arms, but still caged inside the grey room. Grasping the ring on your left hand, you spun it around - a nervous tick, but it was vaguely comforting. The ring had been a gift on your first anniversary. Inscribed along the inside of the band were the words, never stop kissing me.

It was the closest Jackson had ever come to confessing his love for you. Slipping the ring on your finger, the finger generally reserved for wedding vows, Jackson had said, “So every man knows you’re spoken for.”

Jinyoung let his gaze fall from your face to your hands, noting how you turned the gold band around your finger to soothe yourself. It was human nature, to cling to something sentimental when under duress.

You noticed where his eyes had fallen and quickly covered your hand. His expression was one of scrutiny and belied interest, and you deflected, “Alright, I told you how we met. Makeout session included. Tell me what you hope to get from that.”

Jinyoung replied without hesitation, “I want to catch him. I want to put him away forever.”

A bitter taste filled your mouth. “I will never help you do that.”

“You already are.”

You blinked.

Jinyoung leaned back in his chair, at ease when he explained, “I can keep you here indefinitely. We wait for him to crawl out of his hole.”

You shook your head vehemently. “He won’t.”

“He won’t trade his life for yours,” Jinyoung questioned, seemingly shocked.

“He…,” you paused with indecision. “I don’t know.”

The cold, hard truth was, you didn’t. There was a part of Jackson’s life he never shared with you. The life that was centered around his powers.

But you knew Jackson took great pride in what he had built. He came from nothing, was told his whole life he would never amount to anything, and he had destroyed all the odds stacked against him. He not only beat the game, he changed it forever.

“You’re in here, ready to give up everything for him,” Jinyoung’s voice faded into the background.

“Am I?” you questioned, lost in your memories.

The first time Jackson made love to you, he revealed himself to you and said something that was burned into your mind forever. The two of you were naked, exposed and vulnerable to the other. So many little nothings had been spoken while endless promises and vows were written into each other’s skin.

Then, in a moment of stillness, Jackson cradled your face and drowned himself in your eyes. He called your name and you stared up at him, hinged on his every word.

“Do you know what they say,” he breathed, chest heaving. “About playing with fire?”

“Are you going to burn me?” you asked him innocently.

“I burn everything I touch,” Jackson told you, filling with sadness. “And only I survive.”

“I’ll be your Phoenix then,” you whispered, bringing your fingers to rake teasingly down his back over the tattoo of the immortal firebird inked into his skin.

Jackson smiled and shifted on top of you to take you again. “You are the closest I will ever get to heaven…”

And you watched in disbelief as the dark brown of his irises turned to scorching red.

Jinyoung called your name. He knew you were somewhere far away in your head.

You blinked through oncoming tears.

“Do you know what he is? Do you have any idea what he’s done? Do you even know what they call him?”

You heard the rumors and read the headlines, just like everyone else. He wasn’t the only one; these men with strange powers. Some said they were harbingers of the end times.

“The Phoenix,” you interjected.

Jinyoung frowned in contempt.

“Because he burns everything and everyone in his path,” you finally confessed. Whatever gets in his way.

“One day, he’ll raze cities to the ground.” Jinyoung’s tongue was a razor. “Did you think you wouldn’t get burned?”

I asked for it, you admitted to yourself. I fell in love with the villain.

Reaching down to pick up the photo still on the table of you swept up in Jackson’s arms, you sighed in acceptance of fate, “Moth to the flame.”

Somewhere out in the night, as Shanghai finally drifted to sleep, Jackson sat in the backseat of his tinted car, gripping the phone so tight he was sure it would snap at any minute.

There would be hell to pay for those that had taken you. Jackson already identified each of them. But in the meantime, he could only sit and think. Getting revenge was easy. Getting you back was considerably harder.

He had to stay ahead of the game. They took you for a purpose. You wouldn’t roll on him, Jackson was sure of that. You would never give them the satisfaction. But they would try to use you as leverage and Jackson couldn’t risk everything he had built. It would make the entire city fall down on top of him.

If he tried to rescue you, then the whole world would know he had a weakness and you would never be safe again for as long as you lived. If he didn’t, then the corrupt cops could put you in the hands of enemies that were much worse to make a bloody example of you.

Jackson grit his teeth. He knew this day would come, when he would finally have to confront his feelings for you. He swore to never let his heart out of its cage, but it had escaped and fled to the palm of your hand. There was a reason he never told you he loved you.

He couldn’t admit it to himself. Love was meant only for humans.

“What do I fucking do?” he cried out in his mother tongue, wringing his hands before hiding his face behind them. He needed you in his arms, needed to hold you again.

But he would lose everything.

The phone chimed and Jackson opened the text.

Call it off. Or she drowns first.

Jackson shook with rage and opened his hand, irises turning crimson as flames appeared on his palm. Then, he closed his fist, snuffing them out.

next chapter →

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[apotaeose]

The King’s Serpent

Pairing ↠ daechwita king!Yoongi x mercenary!reader

Genre ↠ angst, light smut, tiny bit of fluff 

Word Count ↠ 1.6K

Summary ↠ The ruthless king intends to use his most valuable weapon to consolidate his place on the throne by putting an end to its biggest threat — his twin brother.

Warnings ↠ implications of sex, and like death sentence lmao

A/N ↠ I just had to write something inspired by Daechwita hehe Min Yoongi really is the boss huh? I’m not sure if this will turn into a series or something like that yet. Hope you enjoy it, though! xo 

The king tosses his unsheathed sword on the mattress, his body following next with a soft thud. Turning on his back and surrounded by darkness with only the dim moonlight filtering through the windows of his large bedroom, he’s deep in thought, going over the events of earlier that day. One of his most trusted spies, Jung Hoseok, finally found the location of his long lost twin brother. He can’t help but to smile in triumph. As always, he managed to have the upper hand in the end. The blonde monarch can almost picture the shocking look on his ministers faces. All their jaws dropping entirely upon discovering the sudden death of that village mutt they plan to use as pawn to overthrow him. 

He’s done so much for this kingdom, fought so many wars and won all of them at such a young age, brought in so many riches, yet all they seemed to care is for his unorthodox — but effective —  way of dealing with those who dare defy him. He’s a king in his might, after all. Doing whatever he pleases shouldn’t concern anyone but himself. Who those stupid councillors think they are?

Suddenly, he’s pulled back to the present by an all too familiar sensation. It’s like a mild itch in the brain. He feels like— no, he knows he’s being watched. And exactly by who. 

“I’ve been expecting you,” he says calmly, rising to a sitting position, “It is not polite to keep your king on the wait.”

His gaze is pinned to your figure as you step away from the dark corner next to his window — now open —  and let the moon reveal yourself to him. Dressed in male black robes, you remove your mask and tilt your head to the side, staring at him in slight amusement. 

“Forgive me, my king,” your voice drips with honey, not sounding apologetic at all. “I’ve been busy… with matters related to you, of course.”

He hums, eyes narrowing in disapproval at your words. Normally, he’d slit the throat of anyone who dared to lie so blatantly to his face like that. However, he’s quite used to your attitude, and for some reason, you’re the only one allowed to speak with him in such a way. Till certain extents, of course. Since, he has other priorities at the moment, he can take the time to discipline you later. 

Right now, he’s a king in need to speak with his kingdom’s most skilled assassin. 

“I have a mission for you.” He’s on his feet now, hands joined together on his back. Halting steps only once he stands very close, you can see that he has his attention fixed on the hilt of the sword strapped to your back. Face unreadable as usual. Every now and then, he does that. You know he’s curious about the nature of your fine blade, since it’s a rare one, but never voices any questions about it. Not that you’re interested in telling him about it either.

“Yes, my king?”

“I need you to kill my brother.” His eyes drift back to yours, and if you weren’t… well, you, certainly you’d flinch from the icy fire swirling in his obsidian irises and how he casually just ordered the death of another person. Not a regular one, though. A member of his family that’s been missing for decades. His twin brother. Who’s caused him absolutely no harm. Actually, they’ve never even met since the day they were separated at birth.

But that was all you knew. Almost everybody knows that the circumstances of their birth were highly complicated. Rebels took over the palace when the queen at the same time brought her sons into the world in her chambers. All they know is that, amidst all that ruckus, the queen died and one of her sons was taken away. The king turned into a bitter man and raised his remaining son with the wrath of a dozen tigers. A few years ago, he perished, and his cruel heir, who stands before you now, took over his place.

No one knew anything about the other. At least, not until now.

“Oh, so you’ve found him?” Despite your question, you’re not really surprised. Everything the king wants, he gets. It was just a matter of time. What bewildered you was his choice not to task you with such an important mission this time. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“You know I don’t trust you,” He states as a matter-of-fact, reaching to place a loose strand of hair behind your ear. The scar that adorns one of his eyes, a vertical line that goes from above his eyebrow to the middle of his cheek, seems to glitter in the moonlight like the piece of golden jewelry dangling from his ears. You’re briefly hypnotized by it before regaining composure, adjusting your back.

“After everything I’ve done for you?” You pout in feigned hurt, and he smirks.

“You mean, after everything you’ve done for my gold,” He stresses the last two words with an arch of his brow, “We both know your loyalty lies with whoever pays you the highest. Which I, for one, do not judge, if it’s what you’re wondering…”

He brushes your lower lip with his thumb, tracing it along your jaw and descending down your hairline in gentle caresses. Leaning into you, he nibbles your earlobe and pulls at it with his teeth in a way he knows that makes you shiver. “But if you ever so much as think of betraying me,” He continues in a whisper, hand halting its movements before abruptly wrapping around your neck, cutting off your air supply, “I won’t hesitate to have your head severed from your body and hung high for everyone to see.”

Stepping back with a satisfied look on his face, you gasp as soon as he releases your neck and rub at it in order to soothe the burn left by his grip. You stare at him with eyebrows knitted in annoyance but he doesn’t seem to care less. The abrupt change of his demeanor disturbs you more than the threat itself. He’s not the type of man to be messed with. That much is clear. A tiger seemingly calm and controlled in the surface still is a dangerous predator in its core. 

But if the king is a tiger, you are a serpent. 

Cunning and cautious, you know just when to strike. Which is why he also knows not to underestimate you — and also what attracts him the most about you. Sure you are physically stunning, but he’s been with plenty of other dazzling women before, including his queen. However, they all eventually bored him to death. Even though, he denies it to himself, he loves being challenged by a woman. There was something about your sassy behavior and love for danger that lured him in. Perhaps even something that reminded him of himself. The desire for power and willingness to do anything to achieve it. 

“That wasn’t necessary, my king,” you do your best to conceal the anger in your tone, but you know there was an edge to it he surely caught. You absolutely hate being threatened — specially by a man — which is something he knows very well and uses to personal advantage. While others usually show fear, you look as if you’re ready to pounce on him. Oddly, rather than irritated, that makes him highly aroused. “You know I’ll never betray you.”

“For your sake, let’s hope you’re right.” He’s close to you once more, being unable not to touch you every time you’re in his presence. The king licks his lips and begins trailing open mouthed kisses on the column of your throat, one hand at the back of your neck while the other encircles your waist. With a tilt of your head back to give him more access, you close your eyes and melt into his touch. His mouth on you feels undeniably good. But more than that, the power you know you hold on him — whether he’s aware or not — is what truly makes you buzz with excitement. 

“How do you want me to do it?” He pauses to look back at you, pupils blown wide with lust. You’re pretty much sure yours mirror his own. Pondering over your question for a bit, he realises you’re talking about the assassination of his brother, and shrugs.

“However you see fit. Just make sure not to draw too much attention. Sneak into his place and poison him, or slit his throat while he sleeps. I don’t care. Just do it as fast as possible. I couldn’t find him before because he grew up in the outskirts of the city, but now he’s back. It’ll be easy for you to find him.” You nod in understanding and he picks up from where he left, this time attacking your mouth in a hungry kiss that you immediately respond to with same intensity. “Enough with that talk. We can discuss the details later. I need you for something else now.”

You laugh at his impatience and he doesn’t appreciate it one bit, biting hard on your lip enough to draw blood as retaliation. A wince is your response but he’s already pulling your sword out of your shoulders and dropping it to the floor so he can lift your body and do the same to you on his bed. With his body finally covering yours, he starts to get rid of both your clothes and his, desperate to relieve himself and hear your moans echo through his royal chambers as he pounds into you throughout the whole night until you leave before the first rays of sunshine illuminate the palace.