#i mean i wish it wasn't so common to have a wife expected to be meek and happy that her husband has a job and buys her stuff but anyways

[lagaans]

i love when women in bollywood movies call out their shit husbands and then get the deserved apology

[mythicmanuscripts]

This blog is now officially my favourite and I'm totally addicted to all your content on Aemond and Aegon.

There was a comment on how Aemond probably immediatly tries to fulfill all his wives wishes even if it wasn't serious (that one was mainly about killing people but anyways) and I was wondering if we could get some thoughts on a situation where he can't to that. Maybe they're travelling and she mentions how much she would love a hot bath or her own bed (without meaning anything by it) and he just can't do anything about it

I should have known that one of you lads would find a way to make that crack post serious and a little angsty. We love torturing men on this blog.

There is implied sub!aemond in this answer but no explicit thoughts so I won't be letting you all hide behind a cut, you know what you're getting into here!!

So for anyone who missed the ask this is referencing: I made a joke a while ago about how Aemond would reach a point where he's just no thoughts head empty do whatever pretty wife says. Aemond is a service sub through and through and he absolutely loves being able to do things for you. More than just like it, he takes extreme pride in it?

Not just because he's your submissive, but because he's also your husband. He needs to know he's being a good husband, that he's worthy of a wife like you and he gets genuinely distressed if he thinks he's disappointed you or angered you in any way.

When this specific thing happens, I like the idea of it maybe being when you're both travelling somewhere on Vhagar? Like maybe all the members of the royal family are expected to show their support for something all the way up at Winterfell. Most of them are all going by horse and carriage, but Aemond of course would take Vhagar and he asks if you'd like to join him. Aemond LOVES when it's just you, him and Vhagar and he absolutely adores flying and travelling with you. Plus, Vhagar loves you just as much because from the moment she met you she knew that you were so good for Aemond.

Anyway, the point is that you were able to instead go by comfortable horse and carriage, stopping at inns every day and being welcomed by all the common folk in the area. Instead, you chose to leave a week after everyone else with Aemond and to fly on Vhagar instead, which is only a three day journey because of how fast she is and how long she can fly for.

But those three days flying means that for two nights you're pretty much just camped out wherever Vhagar lands for the day. Right from the start Aemond offered to check the maps and find inns for both nights but you told him not to bother.

You know that Aemond will be uncomfortable staying in inns, especially because he's so recognisable and so he knows all the people in the area will want to speak with him. Forcing him to show up at Winterfell and show his public support for something he couldn't give less of a shit about is bad enough, he doesn't need to also be a roadside attraction for two nights.

More than just that, you know Aemond could really really do with three days of just you, him and Vhagar.

The first day of flying you don't even speak much. You're seated behind Aemond, your hands wrapped around his waist and it's just perfect.

When Vhagar lands for the night, you set up camp while Aemond checks around to ensure it's a safe place to spend the night.

When he comes back, you have everything set up and you make an offhanded comment that you miss your nice warm bed. You don't even think much of it and continue putting the twigs together for the fire. It's only once you have the fire going fully that you realise Aemond still hasn't come to sit with you and has instead stayed standing where he was when you made the comment.

You ask him what's wrong, and to your shock he's silent for a moment before he asks, "Do you not want to stay with me?"

You have no idea where that came from, and when you ask he says that you mentioned missing your bed. You can't help it, you have to laugh at your sweet husband. You motion for him to come sit with you and when he does, you link arms with him and lean against his shoulder.

"Of course I want to," you tell him, "it was just an offhanded comment, I love being here with you."

You can feel him relax a little, no longer sitting as straight and tense, but he's still not satisfied. He speaks up again, "I don't know what to do," he says, "I can't... I can't do anything about that."

You frown and lean more against him, pressing a kiss under his jaw and telling him that he doesn't need to do a thing. You promise him that you love being with him, and that you never would have agreed to come if you genuinely didnt want to sleep out here with him.

Even with that reassurance, he's still a little unsettled throughout the night, and you can see this by the way he tries even harder than usual to please you. He double and triple checks that you don't want anything, he folds your clothes himself, he offers you extra blankets, just does everything he can because he feels like he's failing you by not being able to make you comfortable.

You can see he's spiralling, and I actually think the best thing to do might be to give him a command? No amount of reassurance will help his brain relax, he needs to feel like he has done something good for you.

Maybe you just have him brush your hair for you? There's not much you can ask him to do in the middle of nowhere, so you grab your brush and ask him to take your braids out your hair and brush it through. He's so so gentle with it, really taking his time to ensure he doesn't pull you.

When he finishes you turn to face him and give him a kiss, thanking him for helping you and telling him how much you're loving being with him.

After you arrive at Winterfell, Aemond tells you that he never wants to travel another way with you again.

[iangallagherisadeadman]

i hate the plot of svetlana and her father/husband, but i saw it as an opportunity to reflect upon her character, her little milkovich child, her relationship with fatherhood, mickey and his involvement in yevgenys life.

obs. I'm NOT saying in any way that I believe Mickey has the obligation to raise Yevgeny as he didn't choose to engage in the sexual relation that led to Yev's conception.

svetlana and fatherhood

what was all of that about stevlana and her dad? i finished shameless and i still dont totally get it. was she really married? i believe so cause none of her other marriages were legal. how did that happened? what is her dad like? when she married her russian husband? just everything seemed rushed and i wish he had more info about it.

either way, I remember she said once to mickey that she named their kid after her father and hes like "didnt the bastard fucking sold you as a sex slave for like 300 dollars" (which I think is really nice cause that means she shared with him that information voluntarily) to which she responded something like "yes but still he had some good in him". later she says to kev that she supported her father and all that cause she owned him for taking care of her until she was like idk nine years old and could take care of herself and i remember seeing someone here saying it is probably because in russia is really common for the father to abandon his children so the fact he stuck around means a lot to her.

it all makes me believe that the image of a father is of importance for svetlana. doesn't that means that she would want mickey to be involved in their childrens life then? i mean he was for a while as she forced him to until his boyfriend kidnapped her children and babys father went to jail and then she held back and i understand it i totally do but now that they have all growned up and gallavich is a somewhat resonable couple with somewhat legal jobs and somewhat living an honest life wouldn't she want them in her and more specifically her childrens life again?

svetlana and mickey

noel once said in an interview for s5 that he believes that in some ways Svetlana is perfect for Mickey cause shes strong where hes not and she complements him, and i believe that too. at the beginning every time shes onscreen she looks scared as shit truly frightened but as the episodes go on and they interact more it seems like she can perceive how small and frightened mickey is under all that bad boy facade and she grows upon him and then they get in a fighting-friendly-respect-disrespect relation in which they recognize each other somehow, and than that went sideways after the whole yev kidnap. mickey probably thought he was wrong thinking he could ever play family, that he could ever be any different and be something other than a fucked up in the kids life, that hes not up to being a parent and that theyre better off without him and make them go away; he chooses to take care of ian instead of his family by s5 end when he said svetlana could leave if she wasn't accepting ian coming back to their house after kidnap episode.

fact is svetlana and mickey found themselves in challenging situations simultaneously. svet was an undocumented immigrant who resorted to prostitution as her only means of survival, while mickey grappled with complex issues involving his love life, sexuality, and the pressure to conform to his fathers expectations, leading a life he didnt desire. despite these difficulties they shared the experience of becoming parents at a young age which significantly altered the course of their lives and their relationship. they were both the source of pain and the potential for each other's salvation. their relationship was fraught with difficulties as mickey treated svet poorly, refusing to acknowledge her as his wife despite her longing for the american dream through marriage and family, which she quite fought for at the beginning when she seemed to hope he would eventually love her (she was gentle and submissive and played perfect little wife). instead, he agreed to fulfill a fatherly role, and they supported each other superficially, lacking a deeper connection. for mickey, lana was an instrument to appease his father while simultaneously being a painful remark of everything he wasnt and didnt want to be, all while introducing complications into his relationship with Ian.

even with all the differences they faced, they had a lot in common, as they both were young and trying to survive, living lifes they didnt choose, the whole respect for their piece of shit fathers that they shared, the fact theyre both queer, how they dont trust others and try not to rely on no one and solve things with their hands and they both have bad manners and dirty mouths and take aggressive approaches to solve their problems and are always scheming and find hard to change their nature. they have a lot in common and they got to find that out while living together and fighting each other, trying with effort to shape one another so they would comply to play the role and accommodate to the life each was expecting to build. svetlana made mickey take off the nazi posters he had as is stated in s3 finale and would threaten and blackmail him into doing what she wanted during s4, and he would do his best to fight her by trying to scare her with threats and make her submissive holding her in an inferior place by diminishing her and calling her names in s4 until they grow to a somewhat peaceful relation in s5 even including ian.

them as a throuple happy family worked for a while and i mean i doubt she has anyone even as close as a colleage in her life right now she doesnt trust easily and v and kev are out of scene and she is married to that rich guy etc. so having a friendly relation with mick again seems like doable? desirable even maybe for her? at that time by s5 they were both dealing with illegal jobs and svet was raising her kid barely by herself and mick was using A LOT of drugs like pills and drinking and cocaine and crack i think and still they made it work for a while so only imagine what they could do now that theyre both at their best.

after s11

also, she is married to that rich dude but its a fact that hes not going to live longer and i know my girl is smart svet did her thing secured that bag stole and gained and got what she could but the plot said that the marriage was under the regime of separation of property meaning she isnt going to get any goods after her hushbands death and probably is not going to have contact with her husbands family cause theyre not close so not only she will have freedom but she will be lonely right. until she finds her a wife at least.

I know the importance of family isnt for the milkovichs what it is for the gallaghers and that yev came as result of an abuse relation, but mick didnt seem to take that on the child once he was born and he was taking care of him, he didnt seem to resent him or hate him or see terry and be hurt by it. i mean he does process trauma in such unexpected unexplained ways that i cant really vision how he trully feels about yev, other than how he rejected fatherhood in s4 and his comments with ian in s11 about not believing he can be a good parent, but s5 in the police station theres a lot of "hes a good kid" from the officer and mickey holding and kissing yev only to take care of ian as debbie hold yev on the passager seat in the way home that was made on purpose and i perceive it as he likes yev but hes afraid to break him. idk if there could ever be the same feeling that lip has with fred, of wanting to be a better father for him than he ever had. thats probably not micks thing. but i can see him at some point wanting to know about yev, and who he became, what is he like, and bonding with him, even more so cause hes not bad with kids they would hit it right away. probably a more friendly bond than father son tho. as for ian, there is that deleted scene of him visioning him mick svet and yev as a happy family and even thought he was maniac i think that came from the heart hes good with kids and he wants a family with mick and he lived a nice life with svetlana and he said to fiona he loves yev.

headcanons

there is the fact that svetlana probably never talk about mick and never went to see him anymore onscreen cause mick might probably not be babys dad but i like to think yev really is a milkovich just because they reproduce like fucking rabbits and i think thats really funny. also the beggining of s6 makes it clear he had done jobs from inside jail before so that he could get commissary money and svet could raise yev with her share, so s6e1 states they somewhat worked together which leads to suppose svetlana and mickey hold a friendly relationship even after they fight cause ian kidnapped yev and mick kind of kicked her out their house, AND since she asks ian to accompany her in the visit shes ok with him too it seems. ALSO not only i think is reasonable to assume they kept in contact for a while when he was inside and only got some distance as she was building her life with her relationship with kev and v and the allibi and he started getting involved in dangerous stuff with the mexicans (since in theory she visited him with divorce papers), i truly believe they only cut off contact completely when he told her he was leaving for mexico cause i mean he told terry i truly believe he told her too.

like i know a lot of people want galladads but i just see it as unresonable they came out of jail theyre traumatized and never done therapy ian fucking stole a baby and that baby was under micks supervision they fucking suck thats the true!! and i would kind like to see them taking responsibility for yev and bonding somewhat. just imagine what kind of parenting that kid would have hes probably unhinged since his parents are freaks. also i think that the more your parents control a kid the more they want to be a rebel (karen-like) and since he was raised by horrible people he is probably the opposite, really calm and mature for his age etc kind of like liam. hes also probably smart since he had a good education and speaks a lot of languages like svet, and aggressive but not fist like? i can vision it, mick telling him about what he was up to when he had yevs age and them playing videogames and mick like spitting on the floor or idk trying to teach him how to fillet a fish and yev totally disgusted by it cause hes a rich little motherfucker and then yev enthusiastically trying to explain the last robotic ethics article he read and is really excited about and making science fiction comparisons so that mick can understand it. OH ALSO also i believe yev is really into the fact hes half russian and knows a lot about its culture and all and wants mick to know more about ukraines and eat their food and know their history and learn their langague and that makes mick PISSED i just know it.

#!: ☆ other posts of mine include: shameless hot takes ; shameless x arctic monkeys ; gallavich x this velvet glove ; shameless moodboards ; shameless playlists ; saddest character ending: karen

[windupnamazu]

something about making cantaloupes into can-elopes

ffxivwrite2023 #03: union (free day) a marriage.

Lunya & Kotone/H'lios. Post-Endwalker. 486wc. ⮞ You kind of think she'd stop being surprised by anything after ten years of adventuring and saving the world from cosmic threats. Not true.

"You're what," repeated Lunya, punctuated by the sharp clink of porcelain against the island counter. It was less of a question and more of a raw disbelief sort of thing.

"Married," Kotone said plainly across from her. She took a sip of her tea with a confidence H'lios both wished he had and was insanely proud of her for: the years had tempered his wife (and what a word that was! Wife!) from the meek sparrow who first arrived on their shores nine years past without a known word of Eorzean Common or any hope of returning home, but she also had the unique privilege of being one of Lunya's favourite people as well as younger than her, so there wasn't much to worry about in regards to her safety, but Lunya immediately swivelled to him with a deadly expression that screamed "H'lios Tia, what have you done?"

He thought she might tear into him like she had with her poor brother when Einar came around last moon and nervously announced his girlfriend was pregnant and he was going to raise the child on his own. Said girlfriend was Y'shtola Rhul's younger sister, so he'd gotten blasted for it twice by a second equally terrifying woman. Lunya certainly looked like she had something to say, but he spoke up first.

"After everything—the Final Days and then Ultima Thule…" And instantly, the fight drained out of Lunya, soft understanding in her eyes. "We decided there was no sense in waiting for the perfect moment. We didn't even plan anything, just got up one morning and decided we had to get married by noon."

Lunya's tense shoulders could only fall with an exasperated but fond sigh.

"I'm not really mad," she told them, reaching out and placing her small hand over Kotone's own. "I'd be a hypocrite if I was. Congratulations, Kotone, Lios—may your union be blessed, healthy, and happy." After a moment she reached out and smacked the top of H'lios's own hand on the table between them. He yelped, drawing it back. "I'm not making you have a 'proper' second wedding like me but I AM getting you a gift and we're having a celebratory dinner with the whole crew. No ifs, ands, or buts!"

Kotone giggled and H'lios had to hold back a swoon at the sound. Not that he was embarrassed about being obsessed with this woman, but they had another announcement to make and it was for the best if he saved any means of pacifying their friend until it was over with. His wife glanced at him from the corner of her eye and he nodded.

"Also… Lunya, er…" Here, with none of her previous confidence, Kotone rested a hand on her still-slender stomach with a sheepish smile. Lunya's eyes nearly bulged out of her head. "We're expecting..?"

The Lavender Beds had never been subjected to such levels of noise.

"You're WHAT?"

[papirouge]

NEVER forget despite what pathological liars say, mainstream medias were in their vast majority, pro Amber.

Social media/the people, on the other hand, was siding with Johnny.

That's why so many pro Amber freaked out at the actual hate movement against Amber : they simply cannot stomach the fact that media don't control people anymore and that the common citizen can now make their own voice heard (no pun intended) loud and clear.

It was very interesting to see pro Heard complain about "the media circus" surrounding this case, as if the "society of spectacle" wasn't already a well documented observation of modern communications dynamics for the last few decades - and most importantly, not exclusive to the Depp v Heard case or society's (alleged) rampant misogyny.....

They precisely act like legacy medias which, feeling their power & influence significantly lowering by the time, attempt to remove any credibility to grassroot reinfo movement, calling them conspiracy theorists, fake news, etc.

... this reminds you of something? Pro Heard obsessively called the movement in support of Johnny "PR smear campaign" or bots. It wouldn't remotely occur to them that Johnny Depp overwhelming support in the general public was genuine, and could be rationally explained by the fact he's been one of Hollywood's most popular actor for decades with iconic roles (Edward Scissorhands, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, Sleepy Hollow, Cry Baby, etc.) and mostly importantly interpreted one of Disney live action movie most beloved character: Jack Sparrow. Heard was a literally a 'who' next to him, which explains why she would never be able to leverage support in such a conflicting case (so no, it doesn't necessarily has to be misogyny)

They are obsessed in controlling the narrative, even if that means lying consistently about factual reality.

Look at them obsessively keeping tabs on whoever liked Johnny Depp first post trial Instagram post, and making entire lists off of them to be canceled....

Unsurprisingly they also suddenly started cussing out popular jury who aren't "law professionals" just because the court decision didn't give the ruling they expected... Those activists pretending to care about the people are actually the biggest elitists.

Their coping about "the tide is turning" or "I can't wait for the documentary exposing how we all wronged Amber Heard" never fails making me wonder: "who's the we?" Mainstream media were and are still in their vast majority pro Heard. The general public? They mostly moved on and rejoiced at Depp winning his case. They will never apologize or feel sorry for Heard because they don't think she deserves any apology. People don't owe nothing to celebrities. Crime of thought or opinion isn't a thing.

This is the internet: Amber Heard is not the first, last, or the only laughing stock it collectively decided to pick on for any season. And the internet will never feel sorry. Deal with it.

Tbh I also blame the #freebritney movement that made too many of you believe that TMZ and paparazzi harassing celebrities represented regular citizens and that people actively sought out to ruin her... Zoomers don't seem to grasp early 00s people were much more removed from "field reportreport" as we are today, which means they had a more apathetic perspective on celebrity struggles. If media decided to milk this repentance shtick regarding their collective coverage of Britney antics back then to revamp their image, that's on them, but expecting this dynamic onto random people (not media news) who didn't have any say on media narrative is wishful thinking....

Amber Heard is none of your friend, sister, wife or mother. None of you know her. None of you talked to her, and never will. So it's weird to me how some of you are hellbent acting like we owed anything to her.

Why elevating your parasocial involvement in a millionaire celebrity civil case as a cautionary tale for ALL women?

[apinchofm]

just something random I'd like to share because I'm writing for Sharma week: I really dislike or am baffled at how some fans really think Edwina has nothing in common with Bridgertons and would have never got along with them. Like first of all it was proven in the show that Edwina can get along with literally anyone: Penelope, the king and queen, Lady Danbury, Daphne, even Anthony is impressed by her...she finds something in an individual that they need, whether it is comfort or validation or an expectation, and meets that requirement if she can. She is good at comforting others and assuring that they need not feel embarrassed or ashamed of who they are, and she likes telling stories. Second of all, what exactly are they basing this opinion on other than the pall-mall game? So she doesn't like pall-mall, so that's it then? Daphne and Edwina share so much in common by being diamonds who were required to be the perfect wife, thrust into something they were not as prepared as they thought they were, that it is a shame they did not interact more. Eloise loves talking to anyone who is willing to listen, which Edwina is, so they could easily chat about their love of books all day, and Edwina could give her some pointers on things she hadn't considered. Fran and her could play the pianoforte and be perfectly happy just sitting quietly together, Colin the gentleman who loves playing the saviour I could see would be very protective of her, considering his concern for Edwina's "delicate constitution" at the wedding. And seeing as Edwina canonically adores children, why would she not get along with Greg and Hyacinth? I just think people who say that are just kind of projecting certain other opinions :/ Just because Edwina wasn't suited as Anthony's wife that doesn't mean she isn't capable of being friends with the Bridgertons lol

Edwina getting along with her in-laws is my favourite thing because she is shown to be someone who just wishes to know people and get along with them. Even with Anthony, she tried her best. The lack of chemistry was more on his part, given he was more into Kate who was more like him.

I think a lot of people don't understand how interest and friendships work - you don't have to be exactly like people you get on with.

[honorhearted]

Her conjecture was as amusing as it was surprising. It wasn't exactly common for womenfolk to speak of the bedroom in mixed company, but over the past twenty-four hours, it had become abundantly clear that Miss Dunster was a far, far cry from "most women."

"If you somehow convinced me to marry you, perhaps I would be willing enough to show you what I like and how I like it. But I do not expect such a thing to happen."

Benjamin snorted. "So you keep saying... And yet the fact you do keep saying it suggests you are very much open to the possibility." Glancing in between her eyes and her mouth, he huskily assured her, "So am I."

Ironically, Benjamin knew that if he'd been introduced to Emma as his proper self and not his disguise, he wouldn't have had the boldness, nor the courage to speak like some sort of experienced rake. Still, it was a bit thrilling to see the color rising in her cheeks, as well as the responsive thrum of his pulse any time they locked eyes. She would assuredly be quite combative between the sheets -- she didn't have to convince him of that with each heated, inciting word.

Any fire he presently felt, alas, was quick to douse with her next snipe: “No, of course not, because you don’t need a woman’s approval, do you? You just take what you want because you can. As long as their father approves of it, you don't need their permission, right?"

The florid color in Benjamin's cheeks blossomed. "I think you greatly exaggerate," he snapped. But rather than defend himself, he allowed her mindless conjecture to continue.

"My father will not hear of this. Ever," she warned. "No matter the outcome. Win or lose, he is not to know of the deal, or else the agreement is forfeit. In addition, you will remain proper in public or else the deal is off."

"Fine," Benjamin agreed, his expression hard. "Though perhaps you should define proper..."

"You are to follow societal guidelines for proper courtship, or the contract is null. In turn, I will behave properly in public, too. Which means no striking, but also no snogging.”

Indicating the slight mark on his cheek, he wryly added, "Well, heaven forbid I no longer have such a lovely collection of your affections...but truly, I'm not even allowed to kiss your hand? Did you find my actions that distracting?"

A hint of pleasure entered his gaze at such a thought, and Benjamin moved closer to her, noting the way Emma stiffened any time he drew remotely near.

“If I find out that you are a spy or a conman, or that you do have a wife somewhere in the world, the deal is off. Do you understand?"

Benjamin blinked at that. There she went again, using that word...why was her first instinct to call him a spy? More troubling was the fact it was true, and yet he didn't understand what would make her so suspicious in the first place.

Shrugging it off, Benjamin affirmed, "Fine. Whatever you wish. But surely, you must agree: this is beneficial for the both of us? I wish for a sound endeavor that will secure my future, and you wish to be unwed so you can handle your affairs in the way you wish to do them." He shrugged. "We can have that together, Miss Dunster. As my wife, I'll let you do whatever godforsaken business transactions you wish, and in return, all I ask for is for the merging of our empires. Is that plan not worth the effort?"

It wasn't that Benjamin didn't believe he could win her over by Yuletide, but Emma was a very stubborn woman and he, in turn, wasn't sure if he'd even still be in town by then. The goal was to glean intelligence as quickly and efficiently as possible, and he couldn't very well do so if she was off trying to avoid him at every twist and turn.

“If you have any restrictions or rules you’d like to present, now is your chance. Otherwise…” Emma turned her head and spat into her open palm, then turned to offer her hand in yet another shake. “Shall we swear on it, Mister Bolton?”

She was undoubtedly expecting disgust for her actions, but Benjamin was oddly endeared by the tradition. As a boy, he and his closest friends would do both blood and spit oaths, so this was nothing new to him.

Moistening his mouth, Benjamin gave an ungentlemanly hock of his own, then slapped their palms together into a messy, unpleasantly wet shake. "I swear it," he agreed. "My restrictions are simple: don't fall in love with me, and we'll be golden."

Despite the teasing quality of his voice, Benjamin was also sincere. Real, genuine sentiment would not bode well for the two of them. He was here for one thing, and she another, so the entwining of heart strings would only serve to maim, rather than save all those involved.

Pressing her hand, he released her before adding, "And when should we start? Or rather, where? Since I imagine you won't let me woo you in private."

"I'll have you know, I am perfectly capable of being soft. I merely tend to reserve such luxuries for people who do not look down upon me."

And would you show me?

"Under different circumstances, yes. I don't need a man wasting my time fumbling about like an idiot in the bedroom." It was not, of course, proper for a woman to admit such things, but Emma wasn't in the business of being proper towards him. If being perceived as a trollop was enough to ward him off of marrying her, she would do it. Swallowing the wave of embarrassment that threatened to crash down upon her, Emma continued. "If you somehow convinced me to marry you, perhaps I would be willing enough to show you what I like and how I like it. But I do not expect such a thing to happen."

I have never lain with a harlot. He defended and Emma searched his expression for any sign of deceit. If he was lying, he was damned good at it, but she refused to be swayed by him, lies or no. I haven’t needed to.

“No, of course not, because you don’t need a woman’s approval, do you? You just take what you want because you can. As long as their father approves of it, you don't need their permission, right?" Her words were pointed as she crossed her arms over her chest. She didn't believe the words she was saying, not entirely, but she wanted to make him break, somehow. And she'd found the quickest way to break a man's composure was to hurl accusations towards him-- the more insane, the better.

His agreement to her risky plan came as surprise and it took her a beat to realize what he'd said. “Done.” She echoed, offering him a curt nod as he reached out to shake her hand. But instead of a simple, professional shake, he dipped down and placed his lips against her skin. His kisses ignited a fire inside of her, one that she couldn’t categorize as either good or bad. It takes her a moment—a moment far too long—to pull away, shielding her hand behind her back.

“We ought to set some guidelines, yes?" She cleared her throat and tried to ignore the heat creeping up her spine along with the lewd thoughts that threatened to float to the forefront of her mind. "My father will not hear of this. Ever. No matter the outcome. Win or lose, he is not to know of the deal, or else the agreement is forfeit. In addition, you will remain proper in public or else the deal is off. You are to follow societal guidelines for proper courtship, or the contract is null. In turn," Emma sighed, setting aside her pride for the sake of a fair game. "I will behave properly in public, too. Which means no striking, but also no snogging.”

The feeling of his lips lingered on her wrist, each heartbeat reminding her of the way his mouth tenderly brushed against her skin. She could play dirty, too, she thought. She wouldn’t let him win. She couldn't.

“And if either of us are to find out something about the other that breaks these rules, the agreement is null. Meaning, if I find out that you are a spy or a conman, or that you do have a wife somewhere in the world, the deal is off. Do you understand? Honesty from here on out, from both of us. I refuse to marry a liar, and I will not bite my tongue for your ego’s sake."

The conditions she proposed lingered in the air for a moment as her mind spun, trying to think of any other important details to add to the contract. She would undoubtedly think of more later, but, for now, she was content with the major rules she had laid down. Propiety in public settings, honesty in all matters, and absolutely no, under any circumstances, informing her father of their plans.

“I propose we give it until Yuletide. It will be a very merry Christmas for one of us, no doubt.” She refused to let him think she had any concerns about winning, but Emma couldn’t help but think ahead. Her life was at risk and it was a true businesswoman who considered the outcome of each win and loss. If she were to win this bet, of which she was determined to do no matter the cost, she would be free to continue her life as a spinster. But if she were to somehow lose, if she were to somehow fall for his fiendish tricks, it wouldn't hurt to put some thought into a possible wedding.

She’d always dreamt of a winter wedding, the kind her own parents supposedly had. The thought of the smell holly and evergreen filling the air sounded magical. With a white dress and white blanketing the world around them, a winter wedding would be beautiful. And the idea of having the presence of another body keeping her warm at night was rather exciting, as well. It would not be his body, though. Anyone but him.

“If you have any restrictions or rules you’d like to present, now is your chance. Otherwise…” With a subtle smirk, Emma hocked a mouthful of saliva and spat in her own hand before holding it out once more in the most unladylike fashion she could conjure up. If he wanted to marry her, he'd have to tolerate her quirks, the good and the bad.

“Shall we swear on it, Mister Bolton?”

[frankcastleonlyfans]

𝐅𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐀𝐄𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐃

pairing: aemond targaryen x lannister!reader

warnings: nsfw headcanons at the end SO NOT FOR MINORS, aemond is a good husband, reader has lannister features, breeding kink, spanking, hair pulling, anyways that nasty stuff but not so nasty.

author's note: i aged the green children so, aemond loses his eye at 15/16.

reblogs, feedbacks and likes are appreciated. support your content creators 💓 please leave a comment if you like my work, and enjoy your reading.

gif by @alicent-hightowers

· ┈┈┈┈┈┈ · ୨♡୧ · ┈┈┈┈┈┈ ·

— brief story:

When you were a child, your father let you under the guardianship of your uncle, Tyland, who was part of the small council of the King.

That was how you met him. You grew up together.

King's Landing was your home, and the Targaryens were your family.

Helaena was like a real sister to you. You really couldn't remember your own.

Aegon had his sick sense of humor, but he never truly bothered you.

And Aemond... his simple existence brought you comfort.

And you did the same for him.

You would always assure him that he'd find a dragon someday.

He'd always compliment your blonde locks.

You had so much in common with the prince, it was like you were made for each other. It was like destiny.

Queen Alicent looked at you as a daughter, since you treated her family so well.

"Mother says I'll be marrying Aegon." Helaena said, playing with her centipede.

You thought the bugs were gross, but you appreciated the way your friend was so fascinated by it.

"That's unfortunate. I love Aegon, but we both know he's not up to marriage." You said, paying attention to your sewing.

"I wish mother could have betrothed me to Aemond. At least he cares about me." Helaena murmured.

Aemond wasn't anything to you but a friend, and you still felt jealous from his sister's words.

"I wonder when will I get married..." You sighed.

"Don't worry, Y/N. A lion and a dragon shares the same heart." Helaena smiled.

You frowned, grinning awkwardly, "What's that supposed to mean?"

Helaena shrugged. You could take a wild guess, but your friend always seemed to talk nonsense.

After the royal wedding, your father took you back with him to Casterly Rock, where he would be finding you a suitor.

You'd still be in touch with Aemond and Helaena, sending letters to know about their well being.

That's how the young prince told you about his eye incident.

That's how you told him about your possible betrothal to the son of Prince Qoren Martell.

Aemond was quick to beg to his parents to make you his wife.

Lord Jason Lannister couldn't refuse the King, even though he wanted to. After all, he was refused by the King's heir, Princess Rhaenyra.

The ceremony had to wait until your first blood.

No one would guess that it would take years for that to happen.

You and Aemond exchanged letters through the years, and you've seen his personality change in it.

Through his words, you saw the boy prince turn into a man.

And after you turned into a woman, at the age of 18, you married the twenty year old prince.

When you saw Aemond for the first time in years, you couldn't recognize him.

Yes, he was missing an eye. But he was so... incredible handsome. A totally different person.

It awaken something in you.

"It's been a while since we've seen each other. I remember how you used to play with the cats around the Keep and... I have a present for you. I hope you like it." Aemond gave you a red box with a golden ribbon wrapped around it.

You chewed on your bottom lip and opened the box, not expecting a feline to jump on your lap out of it.

"Aemond!" You exclaimed with a large smile in your lips, "You're giving me a lion cub!?"

The prince bit back a smiled to your reaction. It made his heart warm to see you so happy.

"He will be trained so he doesn't get violent in the future. You're the first one of your house to have an actual lion. What are you going to name him?"

"Have you seen a lion named dragon?" You wondered.

The prince frowned, chuckling. "Hm, no?"

"Well, me neither! Probably raising a lion is easier than raising a child."

"Let's test that, shall we?" Aemond smirked.

— your relationship:

Aemond is possessive. He doesn't like to leave you alone with any man, especially if the man in question is his brother.

He constantly says that he wants lots of children.

Aemond likes to play with your blonde locks between his fingers.

He hopes for your children to have your hair and his eyes.

Most of your time alone with him, he likes to chase you around your chambers, and play like you're both children.

He misses the lost time with you that your father took from him.

He lets you take off his eyepatch, and leave soft kisses on his scar.

You often says how handsome he is.

He often confesses his love for you.

Aemond is a cold-hearted person with everyone, but you.

— your nsfw relationship:

Aemond is vocal. He growls and moans a lot. And he actually feels really comfortable doing so.

And he notices how your cunt clenches around him when he does so.

He likes to fuck you on all fours. He can easily slap your ass and pull your hair at the same time.

He's obsessed with pulling your hair.

He kisses your arched back, using his hand to play with your clit, watching you turn into a whining mess.

"Can I cum?" You'd ask, having your face smashed against the mattress while your husband is pounding deep into you.

He loves to control your orgasms. And also, to gaslight you.

"I don't know, princess. Can you?" Aemond teased, smacking your ass hard.

And if you cummed without his permission, he'd punish you.

Aemond was trying really hard to get you pregnant.

In the first week as a married couple, none of you left your shared chambers.

He discovered a breeding kink just to the thought of your cunt leaking his cum.

And even when you eventually got pregnant, we couldn't stop fucking you.

Your swollen breasts full of milk, your swollen belly carring his children... everything about it made him hard.

[virginburial]

no cause i need a part two of not allowed where you and steven find each other in real life 😫

ask and you shall receive!

.·:*¨༺    red with love.      ♱   steven grant   ༻¨*:·.

SUMMARY: in which you run into an old client or alternatively, in which you, a ex-phone sex operator, run into the guy you accidentally fell in love with.

SHIP: fem reader!steven grant WARNINGS: explicit content (minors stay out), oral (female receiving), slight degradation, public sex, explicit language, random storytelling/porn with a plot

WORD COUNT: 5.1K

SONG: https://open.spotify.com/track/3TykYXtxtW37KpBllYZZal?si=f7ce657deb0e4c91

A/N: this is a part 2 for Not Allowed, you can read this without having to read Not Allowed but it’s not recommended. i also recommend listening to the song because it’s so cute and i love it so much (⸝⸝ᵕᴗᵕ⸝⸝) this also kind of has fluff so if you’re into that then hells yeah. greta is an oc of mine i’ve been writing forever so she’s in here. REBLOGS, NOTES, AND COMMENTS ARE ALWAYS APPRECIATED !!    

                               .·:*¨༺♱༻¨*:·.

It's been six months.

You managed to leave your job at HoneyBunny's, you were there for a month or so before the career started to take a toll on you, and your boss understood that perfectly and wished you the best as you set off on your new job search. before you met significant other. Before they passed, you were attempting a college degree relating to zoology. You decided that maybe you should try it again; it's what your ex would've wanted since you both met in college. Speaking of your old lover, you started attending grief support groups because you realized too far deep that maybe the way you were coping wasn't the best. You made friends, specifically with another woman who had lost her young child. You both were attached at the hip when you realized how much in common you had with her. she was only a year or two older than you and had a pet store that had been in her family for the past fifty years. Since you two started becoming best friends, she offered you a job at the pet store.

Things were nothing like how you expected it. You thought caring for some of the pets would take a lot of patience and energy you didn't have, but it's been a delight so far. Children would run in and stare at the puppy dogs at the front window; mothers would be dragged in or buy fish tanks for their teenagers. One mother had to buy a tank for a turtle her son captured in the woods behind their home. You could see why your new friend didn't want to have a job where families would stroll in, and she could see the bitter look on your face whenever couples would come in and adopt a dog with each other. However, it would all be worth it towards the end when you gossip and judge the customers like a couple of high school mean girls. It was nice to have someone to talk to that didn't have a penis, who oozed estrogen out of every pore and was never going to die on you; or hang up on you before you could hang up on them.

That wasn't the only change.

You started to clean up your space a bit. You hadn't cleaned it since the funeral and practically begged some of your grief group members to come to your home and help you bring out trash bags full of items. It was a difficult task; throwing away your significant other's food that they were 'saving' when it was rotting there for months, donating the stacked shoes to a charity, boxing up sentimental items you decided to keep and store in your attic. The most challenging thing you had to throw away was their bike helmet. The last thing they forgot. Of course, a mountain of cheese wrappers by your nightstand and empty red bull cans decorated your vanity along with crushed powdered makeup. Alas, your home was almost the way it was before the accident. You started wearing more colors again; the usual pastel pink and azure blue, the cherry reds and delicate whites hid in the back of the closet while you were in your sweatpants and wife-beater era. Your therapist, which you started seeing, helped you set alarms on your phone to remind you to eat, shower, and other necessities. Your tangled and brittle hair/natural hair was now healthy and easy to manage as you started experimenting around; space buns on Monday, braids on Tuesday, a messy pony on Wednesday, sometimes you'd do your hair/wear a wig in the style of Farrah Fawcett, or even let it be the way it wants to be.

You started to pick up new hobbies, such as jogging, which was so difficult for your body to adjust until you finally pushed yourself; now, you have a runner's high every time you exercise. You also started to go out more with your new friend and her other friends, who neatly adopted you into their group. They adored the music scene in London and listened to music such as Mazzy Star and Smashing Pumpkins, which only led to you falling in love with the music. They also introduced you to albums that picked up the pieces of your heart and taped them back together, such as TV Girl's French Exit and Ariana Grande's Sweetener. Speaking of falling in love, you haven't had much luck. Whenever you think of love or even being with someone, your mind falls back to your old lover and the last moments you had with them. Yet, lingering in your mind was your old client Steven. You still couldn't let yourself forget how cute he was, how fun it was to push him around until he got confident enough to want you in the way you always dreamed of being wanted.

You promised yourself that you'd forget you ever worked at HoneyBunny's Hotline, but you couldn't forget Steven, even if you tried.

For the most part, you were just like your old self but with some new perspective, new friends, and new ambitions, and it was all hopeful. Since their passing, you finally feel light and free for the first time. Almost like the storm was finally clearing with the rainbow just out of reach. You didn't mind the wait, considering how far you had come from that terrible day. Now instead of taking sixty milligrams of Zoloft, you only take fifteen. You can sleep knowing that the space next to you wasn't the lack of that other person, but you finally letting your heart open up and keeping it that way. You were healing, and you are so proud of yourself.

You decided it was finally time to start dating again.

Look, dating nowadays is a complex chess game with talking stages and red flags, but you were convinced that you could find love if you tried. It's not like you could resurrect your lover; if you could, you would've already tried, and it's not like you could go to all the museums in the united kingdom and hang around the gift shop to see if you can find Steven. While working your shift at the pet store, you and your friend had the bright idea to set up your Tinder profile. Tinder wasn't your first choice, but it was the easiest way to meet people. you stood there at the store counter, your new friend feeding the gerbils next to you as you started typing your bio. "how does this sound." you caught her attention. "Y/N, Y/AGE, lover of animals, boba tea, and books."

"is...that everything?"

you shake your head. "I was going to talk more about myself, but what do you even put in these bloody bios? Hi! Old phone sex operator here! I have a dead significant other, and my home smells like two-week-old McDonald's and sage! Swipe right if you want to bury your cock in my ass!" you sarcastically said as you deleted the biography you were typing. your friend cackled. "do you remember what that gay American president said? Honesty is the best policy?" she walked behind the counter. you raise your head and cock an eyebrow. "...the gay president? John F Kennedy?"

"no, the..." she snaps her fingers, trying to think. "the wanker with the log cabin-he's a vampire slayer or something."

you snicker. "you think Abraham Lincoln was a vampire slayer?"

"they wouldn't make it a movie if it weren't somewhat true," she answered.

You smile at her, thinking of a response to her bewildering statement, before hearing the bell above the door ring. The shop was usually dead around this time, so getting a customer was something that caught your attention. You advert your gaze from your friend over to the customer and saw a disheveled man, his black curly locks hovering over his weary eyes as he slightly slouched. He wore a beige jacket and carried around a bag of some sort, you wouldn't call it a man purse, but you didn't have any other title to call it. He looked a bit worried like he was going through something, as he held a glass cup with a fish inside. It was a pretty healthy-looking fish - in fact, the fish looked familiar. Your friend informed you that she sold the best fish in the store over the weekend, and that looked a lot awfully like it. Your friend almost recognized the man. You placed your phone down and straightened up your white cardigan sweater, which you wore with a denim skirt with embroidered red hearts littered around it, black stockings, white knitted legwarmers, and school girl shoes. You smiled at the man. "welcome! how can we help you?"

He looks at you, then at your friend, before entirely diverting his attention to you; he was drawn to you. "uh, y-yes. I bought a fish here, but it only had one fin, now it has two-" he looks down at the fish. "this doesn't even look like Gus." he holds out the fish to your friend. your friend nearly rolls her eyes at the sight of the customer before carefully grabbing the fish and expecting it while simultaneously talking to you. "Y/N, this is Steven. He usually comes in here to complain about his fish-" "-but it's strange, isn't it, Greta?" he calls out to your friend, who looked just about done with him, and she sighs. "I don't know how I can help you with this, Steven. I literally sold you this fish this past weekend." she hands it back to him. Upon hearing that his name was Steven, you felt your heart drop to your stomach. That happened just about always. Curse him for having a common name.

you see steven's facial expression shift. "no, t-that can't be."

"uhhh, yes, it can!" she handed the fish back to him, seeing him slightly flinch as the glass almost slipped through his fingers. Your friend begins to walk around the store, and he follows her; you can't help but stare. "no i-it can't be. I didn't even come in here this weekend-" "-I literally sold it to you, Steven-" she repeated. "-is it possible for a-a fish to grow a fin in two days-?!" "-I'm not a marine biologist, I can't help you-" "-well you must know something about it, there's n-no way you could've sold it to me-" "-you must have a doppelganger, then. seriously Steven, I don't know much about fish. If I did, I would not be working here..." then she points to you. "Y/N is getting a zoology degree; maybe she knows something about it. I'm going to take my break," she says as she clocks out and disappears to the back of the store. You awkwardly turn back to the helpless guy right in front of you.

he slowly approaches you. "zoology?"

you inattentively nod your head. "yeah...i've loved animals since I was a kid, felt like the obvious choice..." you paused. "...dunno much about fish, though," you say as you carefully take the glass from his hands, not in your friend's rough manner. he starts to get shy, it feels almost familiar, you begin to question him. he sheepishly glances down at the counter. "you don't think you have CCTV footage of me being here the day i ... "bought" this, right?" he asks, your lips perk up. "why? are you actually a clone?" you joke, and he lightly laughs a bit with confusion. familiar. "um, I don't think so, no? don't clones usually don't know they're clones?" "I don't know, Steven, the most I know about clones is whatever I learned from watching Orphan Black," you say as you gently place the fish down. "I'm...sorry about Greta. She has a short fuse. She's like that with most customers-" Steven brushed it off. "oh, it's fine. This is not the first time i've bothered her with something like this, my fault for thinking having a tank full of fish could be possible with my museum gift shop salary." he joked, only for it to fall a little flat, but you heard enough.

At that moment, a weight of bricks hits your chest as you realize that the man in front of you was Steven. Your Steven. not some other man who just happened to be named Steven. Your eyes slowly went wide as blood rushed to your cheeks. You were red with love as you just stared at him with disbelief. Your back started getting warm as you thought about your last conversation with him, how his words would echo in your head every time you tried to move on or please yourself. He wasn't like how you pictured him, but you were far from disappointed; he was still handsome, maybe just insecure. Your eyes slowly gazed up to his body, then back to his eyes as he finally made eye contact with you. he noticed that you got silent. It was way too awkward for you not to say anything, but even if you did, wouldn't that just scare him off? he called a sex hotline, and he didn't call the relationship hotline. Yet, it couldn't be some coincidence that he just waltzed back into your life right when you put yourself back on the market. He gave you a worried expression. "oh, uh, was it something I said?" he genuinely asked. God, he's just like how he is on the phone, or at least you hoped so.

"you don't remember me, do you?"

Steven's eyes slowly widen in panic. You didn't expect him to remember you. "I...no, I'm sorry. I don't think we've met before. I'm Steven...Grant, Steven Grant." he introduces himself. you slowly bite your lip. "...Y/N Y/L/N." you introduced yourself. "...sorry, I thought you were someone else, I hate to break it to you, but you might be a clone." you decided to let it go. Steven fell into your lap for the moment he did and left when he did. You decided that maybe all you would get from him was just that fateful phone call and never engaged with him again. Perhaps that's the way things were. But Steven couldn't let it go. "but you didn't recognize me beforehand? Did you see me buy the fish?" he questioned. You step from behind the counter and slowly walk to him before standing in front of him. "no, I'm sorry." you hand him the fish, your hands touching as every fiber in your body tells you to spread your legs for him, if you could quiet your screaming nerves. you hand him the fish before smiling softly at him. "if you have any more questions, you're always welcome to come back, Mister."

You could see Steven go through an intense thought process as you called him the pet name. He started to gaze at you as you were beginning to feel familiar. His cheeks turned a light shade of red as he gulped. "j-just Steven is fine-" "sure it is, Mister." you pushed again, your brattiness making you sound familiar. At that moment, a look of shock overwashed Steven as his cheeks turned three shades darker. his eyes nearly told you everything you needed to know as they glistened; he gulped harshly. "oh bugger...it's you, isn't it?"

"I'm not sure what you mean, Mister."

"oh please." his lips slanted slightly into a smirk; at this point, you were starting to blush as your heart began to pound. You wanted to run, but you forced yourself to stay put as he kept speaking to you. "i-it's you. The girl who made that bet with me over the phone." how tame of him to call what you guys did over the phone a bet. Your clit slowly began to pulsate at the thought of how sweetly he spoke to you that night as you cheekily smiled at him. "I'm whatever you want me to be." you hinted at the phrase with a seductive tone as his smirk slowly turned into a smile. "you know, i've thought about you a lot more than I would like to admit. Used to keep myself up just thinking about how you hung up on me. How's life treating you?" he kindly asked.

You dropped the act and looked away from him. "it's gotten a lot better since we last spoke...I'm sorry for hanging up on you-" "-no, I understand." he reassures. "I'm sure getting to know your clients on that level is against the rules. Speaking of, i-i should probably get going." he awkwardly shuffles with his things and tries to leave. "I wouldn't want to get you in trouble-" "-oh no, no, those rules don't apply to me anymore. I quit after a month of being there," you told him, hoping he would stay. you watched as he slowly eases himself. "oh..." he says with a hint of delight. "trust me, I didn't want to hang up on you, but if my boss at the time found out, I probably would not be here." you joke. "how's life been treating you, Steven?"

"still lonely and pathetic." he kidded. "I guess that's why when I called again and tried to talk to you, they said there wasn't anyone there."

"wait, you called again? when was this?"

"three months ago," he confessed. "I was having a weird day, but all I thought about was you. Thought if I just gave you a call, my day would be significantly less shitty." he nervously laughed at the end as blush crept up your cheeks again. "i..." you began to get flustered. "i've thought about you too...gah, I'm sorry, that's embarrassing-" "-no, no, it's...sweet." he reassures. That's what you liked about Steven; he was sweet, no matter how rough or flirty he intended on being. You bite your lip and stare at him as he stares back at you almost longingly. You wanted nothing more than to kiss him or feel him on your skin once. Then, you felt your stomach warm up as Steven's attitude slightly shifted. You cross your legs, your thighs squeezing as his features start to attract you. Steven looks down at your lips, then up at your eyes. You can tell he would get cheeky. "what have you thought about me doing?" he asked. You scoff. "who said you were doing anything?" you teased before he pointed to your crossed legs. You turn red as you realize how observant he could be.

"Whatever happened to being awkward and timid?" you ask.

"I can be awkward and timid and still have needs, Y/N." he lightly scolded. "cmon darling, you weren't so shy on the phone." your whole body starts to tense up as he puts you on the spot. At this point, you felt your panties slowly get wet from the amount of tension that was going on between you two. you slightly swallowed as you looked him straight in the eyes, knowing he would try to look away, but he didn't. "i've thought about you...touching me." you revealed. "I would hump my pillow thinking about how you wanted to slam into me, how you wanted to make my thighs shake, how badly I wanted you to ruin me with a kiss, thought about running into you and letting you have your way with me, thought about you fucking me so good that I can't speak...you know, the usual."

You could see Steven nearly crumble at the idea, his eyes wandering down and exploring your curves when you wished it was his hands that did the work. Even though Steven asked beforehand if he could see CCTV footage of him buying the fish, the store didn't have any cameras. which you were suddenly grateful for as you inched closer to him, staring deep into his eyes. "I would ask you what you thought of me doing, or vice versa, but I rather you show me-" be careful about what you wish for.

Steven grabs your face, his thumb running over your cheekbone as he leaves a passionate and sweet kiss on your lips. You haven't been kissed like that before, not that it matters but to you, it does. Your eyes flutter close as you relax into Steven's embrace. He's so careful with you, like he would break you if he touched you, not knowing that you were already broken for him. Your hands slowly wrapped around his neck as your noses bumped into each other. His lips felt so smooth against yours. It was hard for you not to slip under his spell as he pulled away. His eyes dreamily fall back into yours as both of your breaths try to stay steady, but you both were itching to touch each other. He's bright red, and you can't help but feel your heart speed up as he finally speaks up. "this is way better in person than over the phone now, innit?" he sheepishly says, but you can't help but engulf him in another kiss.

This kiss was rougher, though, on the more sensual side as you placed Steven's shaky hands on your lower back and hips. He was so nervous. It was cute. You slipped your tongue into his mouth and wrestled for dominance as he let out a soft whimper. He doesn't seem to be stopping or wanting to stop as his hands slowly wander down your body, almost asking for permission to touch you when you know he doesn't have to ask. You pause the kiss, your foreheads touching as you spoke to him. "it's okay." you whisper to him, reassuring him as his hands go to your bottom, squeezing it as you let out a soft giggle. "you're an ass guy, good to know." you crack a joke, unable to keep a straight face as he lifts you. for someone as skittish as he is, you're surprised by his strength. How easily he could pick you up as he props you on the counter.

You accidentally bump into the cash register, hearing it ding as your hands steady themselves on the counter. You were just an inch or so taller than Steven as he latched his lips onto your skin, your hands finding themselves wrapped around his neck as you let out a soft and happy sigh. Your index finger wraps itself loosely around his curls as you slowly spread your legs for Steven, letting him come in the middle before he picks up one leg and wraps it around his waist. You hold onto his bicep, feeling how muscular he is. Your skin starts to burn up as it gets sensitive to his touch and his touch only, his hand gradually running up under your thigh as he starts to get a little rough with you, biting down on your collarbone as you let out a soft moan. you snap your gaze across the counter and see Gus; Steven's fish, just staring at you guys. "Steven..?" you softly spoke.

"yes, darling?" he mumbles against your neck.

"your fish is staring at us."

His hot breath hits your sweet spot as he lets out a small laugh. He pulls away from the crook of your neck, and you already miss him. He grabbed the glass and placed it on the shelf away from you. Steven quickly returns to you, though. Your hands reach out for him as you capture him in another eager kiss. He smiles in the kiss. "i've never really done this before-" he says in between kisses. You pull away to let him speak. "-I mean, in a public space. I-I've had sex before i-i didn't mean it like that-" he starts to get shy. He turns absolutely red when he sees your smile. Even if he was a virgin, you didn't care. He was just so cute. You grab his face so he can finally look you in the eye. "mhm, me either, first time for everything, right?" your smile slips into a smirk.

You could feel him shudder as his hands pulled the cardigan sweater you tucked into your denim skirt and started feeling up your shirt, burying his face back in your neck as your back arches at the sensation. It wasn't long until his hands stopped messing around with your chest and traveled down to your thighs again; thinking about the phone call again as he lifted your leg again and started kissing your inner thighs; rolling up your denim skirt as you began to feel your clit throb with anticipation. You buck your hips as your fingers find themselves gripping onto his curls. You could feel him smirk against your thighs. "you cheeky bastard." you hum out quietly as you suddenly felt your wetness leak out onto your stockings. You remembered how you didn't wear underwear today because you forgot to do laundry and knew that the further south steven's lips went, the closer he got to your cunt.

He kept rolling up your skirt, the skirt's waistband riding up your stomach as you felt the fabric of the stockings and Steven's two fingers brush against your wet folds, rubbing your clit, which was begging for your attention. You whine out and tug on his curls as your other hand wraps around the counter's edge. Your thighs clench around him as he pulls away from between your legs and leans up before kissing you. he was just a tease, so you decide to be one back. Your hand finds the waistband of his jeans and slides down to find his bulge, and your eyes widen slightly at its size; it was certainly a bit above average. Steven lets out a deep groan while kissing you, as you squeeze his length. he reluctantly pulls away from the kiss. "u-um-" he struggles to speak. "i-i dunno what to do with your stockings-"

"just f-fucking rip them!"

"o-oh shit, okay-" he quickly gets on his feet, going back down to your thighs and ripping the crotch of your stockings without hesitation. You lean back as the cold air hits your core before feeling Steven's hot breath. You shiver as you felt him hover over your clit; he spreads open your folds; profoundly underestimating how wet he made you, but you can tell he was proud of himself. He presses his tongue against your clit, making you gasp before he roughly and unapologetically starts sucking on it. A symphony of moans escapes you as you start 'smelling colors' or what have you. Sweat started to roll down your back, hitting your cardigan as you pulled on his hair. His lips felt so sweet against your cunt, that it made you feel high on pleasure. You can't even remember the last time you had sex, but this tops it. Your fingernails scratch his shoulder as you let out a loud moan. "m-mhm! fuck, s-steven!!" you cry out.

He doesn't stop. It only makes him suck you more, his tongue pressing on the hood of your clit as it swipes up. "you taste so good, baby doll." you moan at the pet name, making you nostalgic as he suddenly inserts two fingers. You dunno what overcame you, but you realized that all you needed was Steven making you feel like the only girl in the world; "you f-fucking wanker-" you insulted him, which only made him pick up the pace; before you could even react to all the wonders he was doing to you and your body, you hear the back door open and hear someone come from behind you.

"Why does it smell like Thai food here?...holy shit!"

"fuck!" you hear Steven panic as he quickly pulls out from between your legs. You look behind you and see your friend, with wide eyes and her jaw to the floor. She quickly covers her mouth before exploding in laughter. You jump off the counter and try to fix your cardigan, rolling down your skirt as your face turns bright red. You both fumble with your clothing. Steven can't even look at you, or your friend as waves of embarrassment hit you both. Steven wipes his fingers on his jeans as you turn to her. "i-i thought you went on break?!" you frantically asked, but she shook her head as she tried to contain her laughter. nothing was more humiliating than being walked in on while getting head from the guy you've been fantasizing about. she finally came down her laughing high as she blushed. "I was trying to get lunch, but it was too busy, but not as busy as you two, apparently." she mischievously smiled at the both of you.

"y-you see, um, i-i-um-he was c-considering adopting a cat so-" "-please don't fire her." he stands up for you. You halt your words and just gaze up at him; how chivalrous of him to cover for you. "i-i came onto her and-and-" "-Steven, you don't have a single dominant bone in your body. it's fine. everyone has fucked in the store, my kid was conceived right in the bathroom." she points to the bathroom. "but I thought you guys would take it to the dog grooming room, not on the counter..." she then gazes down and sees Steven's bulge. "how is that the most surprising part of all of this?!"

Steven reddened. "i-i should get going. It was..." he stares into your eyes. "...it was nice running into you again, Y/N." he expresses. he peeks over to your friend. "Greta." he awkwardly speaks. Grabbing the satchel - that's the word, satchel, not man purse - he dropped on the floor. He turns back to you, glancing at you one last time before hurriedly leaving the store, but your friend calls out to him. "you have a little something on your lips!" she laughs out as he flees. You conceal your face in your hands and the sleeves of your cardigan in embarrassment. You don't know what to say to your friend before she goes behind you and rubs your back, reassuring you that it was fine. "it happens to the best of us, but hey! Good news, now you don't have to go on tinder! You should've seen the look on his face. He's completely smitten with you. you got his number, right?"

fuck! fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fucking- "-fuck!" you express. you didn't think about getting his number or Snapchat or any of his socials because you were too taken back by the fact that Steven was right there. "I didn't get his number! God, how could I be so stupid-" "-hey hey hey, don't beat yourself up, he'll be back. I promise. he always comes back." she soothes. You lift your head from your hands. "how are you so sure?" you ask. She then points to the shelf.

"he forgot his fucking fish."

                                             .·:*¨༺♱༻¨*:·.

buy me a coffee ૮⸝⸝> ̫ <⸝⸝ ა

[jeannereames]

Hi! I wondered what Thessalonike's marriage/relationship to Cassander/Kassandros was like? She was clearly forced to marry him, but since he named a city after her and she had lots of influence with their sons, I really hope it wasn't particularly awful / it was, at the very least, manageable for her

Also, was she really killed by her own son? That's heartbreakingly sad.

Thessalonike

I expect that, especially in the early years, it was unpleasant for her at best. He needed her alive to legitimize his rule by producing half-Argead sons. Otherwise, I doubt her comfort concerned him. Naming a city after her had less to do with her and more to do with emphasizing that his wife was a daughter of Philip II. It was the tie to Philip he wanted to emphasize more than to Alexander.

Once she had children, however, things may have got marginally better. She had at least four, the three boys and a girl who died as a toddler who we know about only because we got lucky and stumbled over her tombstone. We know Kassandros broke Greek naming precedent to call the first boy after his wife’s father, and left the second boy to be named after his own father (Antipatros). And the last? Alexandros—probably named by Thessalonike. That must really have stuck in his craw—and it might indirectly tell us both how much power Thessalonike had, and how much she hated her husband.

For more on Kassandros and Alexander, see my post below.

It’s always possible that Thessalonike hadn’t liked her step-family and was happy to marry Kassandros…but I doubt it. The details we know suggest otherwise, such as the name of that third boy.

Ancient sources only rarely tell us about the affective bonds between family members, and then only if really good—or really bad. Why? In antiquity, piety demanded that family members back each other up, so even quarreling siblings, or quarreling parents and children were expected to protect each other. To kill one’s siblings, much less parents was an especially heinous act. The Furies, among the oldest (and most terrifying) of the gods, had the job of pursuing children who committed matricide. But we probably don’t hear about whether Thessalonike loved her brother (or step-mother Olympias), because ancient authors assumed she’d be loyal to them, however she felt.

This matters because not only did Kassandros hate her brother, Alexander, but he married her shortly after he’d had Olympias murdered. Thessalonike had previously been with Olympias in Pydna. Several of us, starting with Beth Carney, believe that Olympias raised her after her own mother’s death 20 days after she was born.* So if technically, Alexander and Kleopatra were half-siblings and Olympias a step-mother, they were her family.

That means Kassandros forced her to marry him after letting a violent crowd tear her mother limb from limb. It was a common practice for a new king of a different line to marry the daughter/sister/even mother of the previous king he was replacing, often after killing him. Kassandros didn’t kill Alexander, but later Successor era gossip said he was involved in a plot to poison him. If almost certainly untrue, it may have been circulating by then and she might have heard and believed it. Certainly, he’d been an enemy of her family and had Olympias killed.

Her wedding night must have been a nightmare for her.

Yet as a symbol as Philip's daughter, she had a certain amount of power over Kassandros via her boys. We don’t know how she felt about the oldest, or how he felt about her, but clearly the youngest son loved her…and the middle son didn’t. That also points to a civil war in the royal house.

A king always needed “an heir and a spare.” The third boy was extra insurance, but by naming him Alexandros, Thessalonike pretty clearly marked him “hers.” Kassandros would have kept a close eye on the older two. As the eldest, Philip (IV) barely outlived him, dying from natural causes (a “wasting disease”). Chances are he was unhealthy for at least some years prior, maybe all his life, and Kassandros anticipated an early death for him, causing him to concentrate equally on the second boy, who he probably saw as the “real” heir.

In any case, Kassandros died (of illness) rather young, in 297, only a few years after the Battle of Ipsos had made him undisputed king of Macedon. Philip (IV) succeeded him, but then died himself just a few months later.

Then things got interesting.

Kassandros had married Thessalonike after 316/15—probably sooner, not later. That means Philip couldn’t have been born earlier than 315/14. Thus, when Kassandros died in 397, Philip was, at most, 18. But he ruled without a regency as Philip IV. When he died, both the younger sons appear to have been underage, if Antipatros barely. Thessalonike set herself up as regent.

And she insisted that Antipatros share rule with his younger brother Alexandros (V).

He probably assumed (perhaps fairly) that she intended to replace him with Alexandros eventually, so about two years later—when he was fully of age and newly married—he committed the unforgivable sin of killing his mother Thessalonike, and kicking his brother out of Macedonia.

Fleeing to Athens, Alexandros asked Demetrios Poliorketes for help. This was a golden opportunity for Demetrios (son of Antigonos Monophthalmos). He’d had really bad luck since Ipsos, where Antigonos had died (and they’d lost). He was a commander of…mixed…ability. He failed as often as he succeeded, but he shared Alexander the Great’s gumption, if not his raw talent. Now, he used Alexandros V as leverage, and brought his army up from Athens to expel Antipatros, returning Alexandros to Pella…but then he didn’t leave.

Meanwhile, Antipatros fled to the court of his wife’s father—Lysimachos, who’d been Alexander’s friend and guard. Killing his own mother was decidedly Not Okay, so Lysimachos had Antipatros killed in turn.

Demetrios still hadn’t left Pella. Alexandros knew damn well he had eyes on the throne, and tried to poison him. Demetrios “overlooked” it initially, but then murdered him and named himself king of Macedon, initiating the Antigonid line.

Gotta love Macedonian cut-throat politics.

---------------------

* We have no idea what killed Nikesepolis, but a very good bet, given the timeline, is a “retained placenta,” which caused either delayed hemorrhage and/or infection. This is, unfortunately, one of the more common causes of maternal morbidity after childbirth, happening in about 1-2 pregnancies in 100.

[leavemebetosleep]

Yesss, like Fluttershy could even point out that not being able to come and go as she pleases until they're married comes off weird and controlling. While he counters by pointing out he doesn't trust her yet. How does he know she'll come back? Or if she does come back, that she hasn't gone off with her friends to plan an attack?

There could be a back and forth there about it until he decides he could just come with her to places. It also gives them a good chance to get to know each other, even if that part's unintentional.

As for why even bother with a treaty in this version, maybe he's just tired of the fight. They nearly beat him, could probably do so again, and he'd rather be free than rule all of Equestria. He'll settle for his own land and a treaty if he can be free to cause chaos somewhere in the world.

Idea I forgot to put in: Fluttershy wearing her element necklace like she does in Keep Calm and Flutter On, as symbolic of the fact she doesn't trust him either. While she can't do much without the other elements, they let her keep it so she feels protected and close to them. She doesn't trust Discord either, and it makes her feel better to have it on.

Unfortunately this just feeds into Discord's paranoia, and that's why he's so suspicious. If she has good intentions, why does she keep that on?

When she finally takes it off and leaves it off, it can be her big show of faith, and how their relationship has shifted. It can be the moment she knows she's ready to go through with things.

Also Fluttershy just wanting to feel ready is good too. Like She felt very bold and confident when she agreed, but when the reality set in she panicked a little. She's not old like he is, and wasn't around for the time when political marriages were common. She can't help but be a little hung up on the idea of being a wife in the modern context, even if Discord repeatedly says he doesn't expect anything of her beyond ensuring their treaty is upheld.

She's mourning a little for the fact this means she'll never marry someone she's in love with. Even if Discord tells her he doesn't care if she sees someone else, since this is just for politics, that theoretical person can't become her spouse now.

Discord has to be reminded she's mortal too. This is the only life she gets, she can't just wait for her spouse to grow old and die then be free to find someone else later like he can. That point making him see why this is a big deal to her, and him putting in the effort to make this situation as pleasant as it can be, and agrees to let her come to terms with things first. Eve if he wishes she'd hurry it up a bit..

Alright here's a short version of how I'd fix Bride of Discord. As a sort of mental editing exercise.

While not really a good fic for a lot of reasons, Bride of Discord actually has a lot of potential as a story. There's a lot of great imagery, and it has a lot of fic tropes I like and are fun to read. I actually would probably change less than some people would. (If your "rewrite" doesn't keep any of the original anything, it's not actually a rewrite babes)

It's just that a lot of stuff in it is maybe played from the wrong angle.

Also there's no saving the Applejack/Spike thing. That's just gross. I think you could keep a similar subplot, just change it so AJ's crushing on someone else. I like AppleDash, but RariJack would probably work the best here. Maybe in this version she's afraid to confess bc she thinks Rarity is straight since she's so femme.

As for the main couple, I think you could actually make the demanding a wife thing work, just have it play out differently.

Like, Discord is old. He spent a lot of time as a statue, and might not be up to date on modern society. Maybe instead of it being a VERY creepy request that screams "sex slavery" make his request explicitly a somewhat less creepy political marriage.

That was common back in his day, and he IS trying to make a peace treaty with Twilight. Being married to one of her people is a show of good faith, that she won't go back on her word, and he won't go back on his, as well as metaphorically uniting their kingdoms.

He doesn't care who it is, because he's not intending to fall in love with them. At best they're gonna be an extended house guest.

They can even point out that's dated and weird, but he can also counter he doesn't know how else to get a proper show of trust. He doesn't trust them with his own safety, but he does trust they won't go after one of their own.

That could also play into why he's so insistent they get married already. Fluttershy trying to avoid the marriage once she's in his kingdom makes it feel like he's being set up, and like the treaty is tenuous. Or maybe he's even suspicious that she's avoiding because the ponies don't plan to stick to their deal.

That could even factor int the climax, but I'll get there.*

Discord can be lonely, and he can still also be a little desperate for companionship, but I don't think that should be his reason for the marriage. Otherwise he could've just asked for a companion, not a wife. Plus, I feel like per-reformation Discord would be in denial about being lonely. I think he'd only start to realize how much he's been missing out on until AFTER he's gotten to know Flutters.

*So in the climax, Fluttershy declares she doesn't love him bc her friends are badgering her, and he gets creepy possessive and tries to hypnotize her and there's a fight and what-not.

Yeah, instead of that what if it's his paranoia that she's avoiding getting married because they plan to betray him coming to a head?

He hears Fluttershy say something to her friends that out of context sounds like they're going to blast him back into stone after all. So he's think she's a traitor who played him for a fool.

I'd nix the hypnotism, just have him and the six fight it out, and then he kicks everyone out before Fluttershy can explain because he's heartbroken and doesn't want anyone to see.

Lot of minor fixes I'd throw in too, cutting out plot threads that go nowhere. Less heteronormativity. Fixing a LOT of OOC-ness. A LOT.

Oh and I'd change Discord's backstory too. The Megamind rip off thing is meh, and I think Discord's a character you could do a lot more interesting things with that that.

As for Fluttershy, a huge problem I have with this fic is she lacks real agency. I want her to choose to go with Discord, not out of the weird sense of feeling she has to sacrifice herself. (It comes off, for lack of a better word, suicidal.)

Maybe instead, she chooses to go because despite her shyness, she's bold when it matters. She will stand up to him. She's not going to be afraid of him anymore. She's gonna tame him like every other wild animal she's had to deal with, and save her home in the process. She's going to come back. He can't keep her there if she really decided to leave.

Have her be the Fluttershy who tried and failed to use her stare on him.

Also, in the original I never at any point felt like she fell in love with him. Just that she gave up resisting his advances. She's always wary and hesitant to do anything with him. That's fine for the beginning of their relationship, but for this to be a good love story that has to change at some point.

Where's the moment she realizes she finds him a little attractive actually? He's weird looking, but he's so confident and funny and fun and that's really appealing. Where's the part where she's having fun and forgets she's a prisoner? Where's the real bonding? Setting boundaries?

Maybe she convinced Discord to let her friends visit, not because she's marrying him already, but because she convinces him to try to make other friends. And he does it, because he loves her already at this point. And she thinks if he and her friends could get along, they could work thing out. Maybe she was hoping things would go well so she could tell him she wanted to marry him after all.

Maybe she really did want her friends at her wedding, but also to be able to have her parents, her brother.

This last bit has nothing to do with the author's writing. This fic was originally written before the show ended, and we got a lot of lore afterwards she couldn't have known about. That's not her fault she couldn't see the future. But just for my sanity, I'd add in more cannon lore.

And uh. I guess that's all got with what I remember of it. Yeah.

[sweetestpopcorn]

I think people use laenor laughing while rhaenyra gave harwin her garter at their wedding tourney, him being by her side when luke was born and her letting him name joffrey as signs to perceive them as happy together

They can use whatever they want but here are some facts:

1- Rhaenyra was forced by Viserys to marry Laenor against her will. She only relinquished when Viserys threatened her with disinheritance. She didn't want to marry Laenor. She had her own ideas about who she wanted to marry.

It's not me saying it, it's Fire and Blood:

"King and council neglected to inform the princess, however, and Rhaenyra proved to be very much her father's daughter, with her own notions about whom she wished to wed. The princess knew much and more about Laenor Velaryon, and had no wish to be his bride. "My half brothers would be more to his taste," she told the king (...) And though His Grace reasoned with her, pleaded with her, shouted at her, and called her an ungrateful daughter, no words of his could budge her... until the king brought up the question of succession." (Fire and Blood, pg. 370 - hardcover edition)

So everyone against arranged marriages but somehow supporting Rhaenyra and Laenor's marriage might want to give pg. 370 that quick and naughty reread just to freshen up the memory.

Furthermore, Laenor would not care that she gave her garter to Harwin because he had his own lover, and he was gay. He did not care about Rhaenyra, and he would not care if she had a lover. Hell, probably made his life way easier.

2- Laenor was by her side for important occasions. Besides Laenor, Harwin (the actual father) was also there.

Laenor would have been expected to be by her side as the "father" (on paper) of the child.

But we also have all of this about how "close" the two of them were and how great the friendship looks.

"Thereafter, though he joined his wife for important court events where his presence was expected, Ser Laenor spent most of his days apart from the princess." (Fire and Blood, pg. 373)

3- It's made pretty clear that Rhaenyra had no say in naming her children. It wasn't a choice of hers in letting Laenor name her third son. She had no choice. Corlys named the first two, and Laenor named the third. Corlys and Laenor had a dispute over the name but nowhere did Rhaenyra enter that discussion. Her children were not even given her last name.

"Laenor's wish to name the child Joffrey was overruled by his father, Lord Corlys." (Fire and Blood, pg. 374)

"Ser Laenor was at last permitted to name a child after his fallen friend, Ser Joffrey Lonmouth." (Fire and Blood, pg. 377)

She was permitted to name the children she had with Daemon, you know her "political marriage" because Rhaenyra who refused to marry Laenor and had a very public affair with Harwin Strong and continued to have kids that clearly were Harwin's -> a note for all the confused besties the three Velaryon princes had brown hair, brown eyes, and Harwin's pug nose and common features; their hair was NOT black like Rhaenys 's hair was - clearly was all about strategic decisions and power games.

The fact that Rhaenyra and Laenor made the best of a situation they were forced into - especially Rhaenyra - does not mean that she was happy. How could she be? Instead of marrying someone she chose and who loved her or at the very least was interested enough in her, Rhaenyra was made to marry (against her will) a man who did not love her, could not lover, and whom she did not want.

She had children with Harwin yet he couldn't openly be their father.

She was also whispered about, her reputation took a major hit, and jokes were made about the situation.

She was made to live with a man she cared enough about to keep by her side for six years and have three kids with in secret.

Can people put themselves in this situation? I struggle to understand the mental gymnastics needed to be against arranged marriages yet claim Rhaenyra's happiest years was when she was married to a man she didn't want to marry and forced to live a secret life.

If her arranged marriage was better than others? Yes, it was without a a doubt. Her arrangement with Laenor of you stay in your lane, me in mine and we meet when we have to no doubt worked well for both of them -> though Laenor's lover Qarl killed him so meh. But being slapped is also better than taking a beating of such magnitude that you have to be taken to a hospital. Bottom line, still doesn't make it good.

I've said it once I will again. The only positive thing she took from all of this was her three boys, and Harwin was the person making her feel love and desired.

Like can someone look me in the face and claim to me that she wouldn't have been far happier if she had married Harwin instead?

Lesson for today: something being better than something else does not make it good on itself.

[comfortscripts]

Do Your Job, No Matter What ¬ Draco M.

Plot - Following your boss's orders was part of the job but you never realised how far he'd take it.

Genre - Smut ♧ {16+ Only}

Pairing - CEO!Draco Malfoy x Fem!reader

Notes/Warnings - Power play plot with porn, harsh names, Dom/Sub, penetrative, choking, unprotected sex with creampie (dont be stupid like them irl). Astoria is the ex-wife in this as I couldn't bring myself to write about a cheater and I apologise in advance if this is terrible, I haven't written smut in years.

Word Count - 2.3k

The day had bled into night and as the gentle rays of sun disappeared, so did your co-workers. Mutters of goodbyes and heels clacking faded till all that remained was the muffled sound of Mr. Malfoy on his conference call.

You were used to being the last one to leave, often deep into the night. A common requirement for a personal assistant was to be there till the boss leaves but unfortunately, Mr Malfoy wasn't exactly rushing home most nights.

The simple hardwood desk was more familiar to you than your own bed nowadays. Nights got later as business got busier and Mr Malfoy became more involved with potential investors, but you never complained. You were always the best and you were planning on staying that way.

"Y/N, get in here!"

Being so involved in the setup for the next morning, you didn't listen out for the conference call or how it ended but from thunderous and rude tone of your boss, you could imagine.

Shuffling to your feet before straightening out your skirt, you made hastily made your way through the large oak doors that housed the king, as you co-workers often joked. You understood their distaste, a powerful and attractive man was already intimidating but Draco always found a way to rub people up the wrong way, except you. You always had a certain affection towards the man, not that you would ever admit it.

Entering the darkened office, you felt your breath catch in your throat as you faced your boss. His once tamed hair, now wisps of silvery blond streaking across his forehead. Veins prominent on pale arms where he had rolled up his sleeves. He stood behind his desk, with one hand leaning on the dark oak table whilst the other nursed a crystal glass of whiskey. Even in his frustration, he still looked like the most powerful man in the country.

Draco lifted his eyes to yours and you felt yourself squirm under his gaze, you'd be lying to say that the man wasn't gracing the thoughts you had in your more intimate moments. This simple act made you think that this could be more than a fantasy with how his eyes traced over you.

"Well that meeting was a total disaster." The man sighed before manoeuvring to sit on what could almost be described as a leather throne. "I told my father that trying to work with Potter Industries was useless but the stupid git wouldn't listen so I had to deal with them bastards for nothing!"

Whilst you tried to focus on his words, your thoughts were more taken with his hands. Strong, thick fingers graced with three solid silver rings and the way they wrapped around the crystal tumbler was so sinful, you let yourself imagine what they would feel like around your neck.

Snapping yourself out of your sinful thoughts, you notice the silence as if Draco had expected a reply to his rant. Whilst he valued your opinion, you weren't sure what to offer.

"I'm sorry they wasted your time sir. Is there anything I can do?" Whilst it sounded innocent enough, part of you couldn’t help but mean it in a suggestive manner.

Draco debated your offer for a moment. He always knew what you thought of him, how your thighs would clench together during car rides where he was just slightly closer than normal or how you would blush at the simplest praise. You were wrapped around his finger.

He knew you wanted him sexually, he too held this secret but he wondered if you were harbouring more than sinful thoughts towards him. He needed to know, to see if he was just seeing what he wanted to see or if there was something between the two of you. Draco knew that by tonight, he would have his answer.

"Come over here" He beckoned.

Obeying before thought, you carefully manoeuvred so you were standing behind the desk and in front of your boss.

Mr Malfoy patted his right thigh in a non-verbal demand for her to sit on his lap. Once again, you were obeying before thought or reason, you gently placed yourself on his muscular thigh, allowing your skirt to ride up.

Draco rested his hand on your exposed thigh, toying with the edge of your tight skirt. With the other hand he gripped your chin in a gentle but firm manner, turning your face to meet his, only centimetres away.

"You know exactly how you can help me"

"I'm not sure what you mean Mr Malfoy"

"Don't play dumb my dear. I see how you look at me, how you respond to me. Would bet money on the fact that you are getting wetter by the second just from being this close to me." His hand inched up closer and if on instinct, your legs moved apart to allow him. The tips of his fingers graced the edge of your panties before pulling them to the side, allowing his fingers to feel your wetness. "Just as I thought, always knew you were my little slut".

He slowly pushed a digit inside, allowing the warmth to coat his pale finger. The action caused a small whimper to leave your lips involuntarily and as you felt the cold metal of his ring graze your folds, you could barely stop the moan from escaping. Draco kept a slow pace, almost teasingly slow. Your body was begging for more but Draco wanted to hear it, needed to hear it. He could see you getting restless at the gentle pace but he needed more from you so he delicately removed his finger, which was met with an annoyed groan from you. Sliding his digit up your soaking slit, he brought his finger to your sense bud. Rubbing in careful circles, you felt your need for Draco grow even stronger.

"Please, I need more"

"Tell me what you want baby"

"I want your fingers. Want to cum. Please make me cum"

This was what he needed, you falling apart for him. Begging for something as simple as him to finger fuck you, and god the sound of you was better than he imagined. A cocky smirk grace his whiskey coated lips before colliding his lips with yours, a collision of tongues and teeth but it was exactly what you both craved. The messy kiss resembled the messy dynamic you were both about to enter.

Placing his attention back on your weeping hole, he broke away from the kiss. You felt your eyes flutter shut as he entered two of his thick digits into you, this time at a harsh speed. Moans were escaping your body as your orgasm built but Draco was quick to drink them up. The combination of the anticipation and how he was perfectly hitting every spot whilst massaging your clit was getting you there quicker than ever before.

Draco could feel your body getting closer to release, clenching and tensing against his fingers. "Cum for me, show me what a little slut you are."

His words were what pushed you over the edge as you came hard all over your boss's hand. You connected your mouths again in a brief moment of ecstasy. Breaking away from the kiss, you rested your head on his shoulder attempting to catch your breath.

You could feel his harden length through his trousers and the feeling alone was enough to make you need more. Carefully grazing your hand over the evident bulge, you felt the man tense under you.

Before you could do or say anything more, the phone rang.

The sharp sounds were enough to remind both of you that you were still in the office and technically still on the clock. Breaking your stare from the phone, you turned to Draco who simply stated "Better answer it sweetie, it is your job after all".

Rolls of frustration filled your body as you wished he would have simply thrown the phone out the window and taken you on the desk but no, here you were. Standing up from his lap, you picked up the phone.

"Hello, Mr Malfoy's Office. Y/N Speaking."

"Oh, Y/N, hello. I was hoping you would answer" You knew that buttery voice, Astoria Greengrass. Ex-wife of the man who just made you cum, of the man you were hoping to fuck.

"Hi Ms. Greengrass, how are you?" As you said her name, you spotted Draco rise from his chair.

Astoria started on a small rant about how hard dating is as a single mum but you could barely focus on her. The blond haired man had made his way behind your figure, and was slowly undressing you. Button after button until your bra-covered chest was exposed, a quick zip of your skirt left you standing in only your panties and finally, Draco decided to rid you of your panties as well with a quick rip of the fabric.

Whilst Astoria talked your ear off, Draco leaned down towards the other and whispered "Be a good girl and do your job, okay".

You shakily nodded whilst attempting to focus on the words the woman was speaking but you were rendered incapable when you felt his enlarged tip tease your folds. You couldn't help but intake a sharp breath.

"Y/N, are you okay?" Astoria paused, she was always a thoughtful woman who made sure Y/N was leaving enough time for herself between work but now here Y/N was, fucking Astoria's ex-husband whilst on the phone to the woman herself.

"Yep, I'm sorry. I jus-" Her sentence interrupted by Draco fully entering her tight pussy. His cock stretching her out in ways she had never experienced, she couldn't help but whimper in an attempt to hold back a moan. "I stubbed my toe really hard. It's all okay truly."

"Always hurts more than it should." You attempted a chuckle at the woman's remark but it became a strangled moan as Draco picked up the pace. Astoria continued "Anyways, sorry for ranting but I was calling to remind Draco about Scorpius' play on Tuesday, can you please make sure his schedule is clear".

"Yes, of course I will." You manage to respond, trying to focus on being professional rather than focusing on your boss pounding you into oblivion.

"Great, I won't keep you any longer. Thank you dear, have a good night."

You replied a quick 'You too' before slamming the phone down. A plethora of pent up moans rushed from your throat as you felt Draco's full size threaten to split you open, you had never felt this full and god, you loved it.

His slender hand wrapped around your neck, pulling you closer to his chest and gaining more force. "What a good little whore you are! Taking my cock like you were built for me". His words made you clench around him which caused an guttural moan to escape the dominant man.

"Please sir, I need more. I need to cum, please." You were close to seeing stars but you needed more, you craved more.

Draco had never felt more powerful than he did at that moment. Slipping out of you before lifting your body as if you were a ragdoll for his amusement, you were now seated against his desk and face to face with him as he re-entered your soaking pussy dangerously slow. The new angles were enough to make your eyes roll to the back of your head, moaning strings of swears as you approached your peak.

The pale businessman pounded you with such force you thought his desk might break under the pressure, holding your hips so tightly that you were sure to have bruises the following morning. Moans of your name graced the man's lips as he approached his orgasm, as his pace faltered and became uneven.

Grabbing your throat with force, Draco brought his face down to yours. "Cum for me."

His words were all you needed as you felt your climax hit you like a freight train. Moaning his name so loudly that you suspected anyone left in the building would have heard. Your vision darkened as the pleasure rolled over you in waves, feeling the release of all the late nights with your hands between your legs whilst fantasies of Draco fuelled you. The reality was better than the fantasy.

Your climax had left you clenching Draco, milking him dry as he released inside of your warm welcoming pussy. All frustration from work was gone, all the desire he felt for you was enhanced, just everything was right in this moment. He felt his cock soften and carefully slipped himself out, watching as his seed slowly trailed down your plump pussy.

Catching your breath, you slipped off the desk before finding yourself in Draco's arms once again. "That was incredible but I am still mad you fucked me whilst I spoke to your ex-wife"

"Very bold aren't I, kitten?. You have to do your job, no matter what" He chuckled. "What did she want anyways?"

"Wanted me to remind you about Scorpius' play on Tuesday." Answering in a nonchalant tone, which is never how you spoke to him but you were now feeling the repercussions of what just happened and were feeling insecurity, causing you to use attempted nonchalance to hide it. "So I guess I will see you tomorrow?"

"Yes, technically. I will see you tomorrow as well but for now, we are heading to back to my house. Have some dinner and see what happens from there." His gaze was often fierce and stubborn but now it was gentle and almost hopeful, showing that he was also scared of what this meant for your relationship, but hoped that you wouldn't reject his offer of something more romantic.

Even with already flushed cheeks, his words caused light blush to appear "That sounds like a perfect plan to me, Draco."

Draco's fears were put to rest as soon as he heard his name roll of your tongue. You may be wrapped around his finger but he was wholly wrapped around yours. Just took a bold move to release the truth.

[xxwritemeastoryxx]

Hidden Marks

Author: xxwritemeastoryxx

Pairings: Elijah Mikaelson x Reader

Request:  Hii! If you still taking request I want ask for an soulmate au with Elijah, where which one of them have the same mark. He and his soulmate are very good friends for a long time and never have thought about this, but someday he see her mark and find out about this but don't tell her for being afraid of hurting her because of his family -Anon

Word Count: 1.6K

Warnings: Tad bit of angst, mentions of blood, but that's canon at this point.

Author’s Note: I apologize that this wasn't out earlier today. But there was some things in it that were bugging me and I just couldn't let it post without fixing it! It's still the 7th for me so this is your fic for the day! I hope you guys enjoy it!

Feedback gives me life and motivation for future things. ♥

“Oh come on,” Y/N said as she turned and faced Elijah as a smile pulled at her lips. “Are you really telling me that you’ve given up on looking?”

Elijah shook his head slightly as he let a huff of air past his lips. “For as many times as you’ve tried to persuade me to find who my soulmate is, my answer has remained the same.”

“Deep down I don’t think you mean it.” Y/N said with a slight tilt of her head. “You give the advice of your best friend ‘needing’ to find who she is ‘destined’ to be with, but you wont take your own advice or mine for that matter.”

When Elijah was younger, he believed that Soulmates finding each other was something magical. He may have lived with his mother who was a witch, and even a few of his brothers, but this was different. Elijah could remember the stories some of the villagers told him about how they found their soulmates. That the marks they were born with would match the person they were meant to be with.

Elijah had hoped that his soulmate would come along and he’d get to experience that kind of magic that he witnessed. He wondered who his soulmate was. How he would meet them and when they would realize who they were to each other. But when Henrik died, Elijah had felt his opportunity to meet his soulmate had been lost the moment he became a vampire.

The magical feeling he once believed in had been diminished over time. As the centuries had passed Elijah had never once met someone who he would ever be his soulmate. That there was no longer someone out there that would share the same mark as he did. As the years passed, the thoughts of a soulmate had all but diminished.

Elijah’s mark had been just below his left clavicle. The mark is a few shades darker than his skin tone. An intricate design of three circles intertwined in a horizontal line. His clothing always covering the mark from everyone around him. So long as it was covered, he wouldn’t be asked about it.

At least that was until Y/N came into his life. The vampire may have been several centuries younger than him, but they had become close friends over the past century. Elijah had met her during his time away from Klaus. The need to be away from his brother for a while had proved to be much needed. And when he met Y/N there didn’t seem to be anyone else better to spend his time with.

But during that time, he never mentioned what his mark looked like, let alone asked her what her mark looked like. Y/N was like Elijah in some ways. She once believed that soulmates were like fairytales. But when she turned, the notion of having her soulmate found had diminished.

“Was it not just a few hours ago that you reminded me that you’d rather not find them?” Elijah asked as he watched her.

The smile she had on her face faded slightly. “I have my reasons.” she shrugged slightly. “I may change my mind if I see you find yours.”

A light chuckle passed Elijah’s lips as he began walking down the pathway they stopped in moments before. “I wouldn’t hold your breath.”

There were several more conversations similar to that between them. But no matter how many times each of them brought it up, they both believed that they didn’t want to know who their soulmate was. They were content with their lives and it avoided the disappointment if their soulmates were human and lost some time ago. This way, there wouldn’t be heartache.

_____

“Elijah?” Y/N called out as she struggled to keep herself steady as she walked into the compound. She hadn’t ever expected to go to Elijah when she had been injured. But she needed help this time. Someone had attempted to shoot a wooden bullet at her and it was currently lodged in her back.

In a blink of an eye, Elijah was in front of her taking in her appearance. His eyes had widened as he helped her over to a seat in the courtyard. “What happened.” He asked as he took note of the current bullet holes in her shirt.

“Oh you know, failed attempt at making friends.” She tried to brush off the pain that was currently radiating through her. “ I just need you to help take one of them out. The others were easy to do. But this one is lodged in there.”

Elijah moved behind her as came to take note of where she had been speaking about. There had been a tear in her shirt from the attempt to make the bullet hole bigger to get the wooden bullet out. He could see the healed spots from the others that she had been able to take out.

It was as he moved the fabric aside to begin pulling the bullet out that he noticed the mark right above it. He stopped for a moment as he took in the horizontal circles that were intertwined. For as many times as he had seen his own mark, it was replicated on Y/N’s skin.

Y/N could feel how he hesitated; she looked over her shoulder at him. “What is it?”

Elijah shook his head slightly. “I believe that is the first time I’ve seen your mark.” He said before he began to poke and prod at the bullet hole.

She hissed as she felt him digging into her skin and muscle. “There’s a first for everything.”

Y/N knew that while they had joked and pressed the other to go in search of their soulmates, they never once actually saw each other’s mark. For the century and a half that she had known Elijah, she had never once seen Elijah’s mark, just as he hadn’t seen hers until this moment.

Elijah hadn’t said anything in response. If anything he was letting his mind go over everything the last several centuries had shown him. He had been at his lowest, the lowest that he could be as a Vampire, when Y/N had entered his life. They had gotten along so well during that time that Elijah just considered it them having a lot in common.

“I take it now that you’ve seen it, you’re going to go on a mission to find my soulmate for me?” She asked a moment later, hoping to fill the air with voices instead of the sound of blood and muscle being messed with.

“I thought you disagreed with that plan.” Elijah tried to keep his voice normal as he talked with her.

As much as seeing the mark should have made him happy, that he should have stopped right then and there and told her what it was that he realized, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. It had nothing to do with the bullet that he was now pulling out from her back. If that had been the case, he’d tell her the moment he watched her skin begin to heal before his eyes.

“Oh, I do.” Said with a nod as rolled her shoulders, stretching out the muscles of her back where the bullet had been moments before. “That doesn’t mean it will stop you from doing it.”

Her words had caused him to chuckle as he pulled out his handkerchief and began cleaning his hands of her blood. She turned towards him in her seat, watching as he tossed the bullet onto the table a moment later.

“I have no intentions of seeking someone out that you do not wish to meet.” He noted with a nod of his head as he looked over at her. Even after getting into some trouble, she still looked as if she could still take on the world.

There was something in her eyes that changed a moment after his words had pierced the air. “Would you tell me if you saw the mark on someone else?”

“Of course.” He said even though it had been a lie. He knew he wasn’t going to speak of the very mark that was on his chest.

As much as Elijah wanted to express every thought he was having at the moment, he couldn’t allow himself too. Not with the past that he had. Not when there were multiple reasons why he didn’t want her to know.

Not to mention the track record he had with the women in his life. While one would argue that it was all meant to lead up to him meeting Y/N, Elijah knew that even she wasn’t immune to the darkest parts of his family or even himself.

He watched as she stood up from her seat. “Thank you for helping me with that.” She gestured to the bullet. “Would I be able to interest you in a little night hunt?”

There was a smirk pulling at her lips, one that Elijah couldn’t stop one from forming on his own. She was offering him a night of catching those that attempted to harm her. Between the two of them, the sport of keeping each other and his family had been a game of keeping score. His head nodded in agreement at the thought of helping her.

He always promised to help keep her safe. And it was as they began leaving the compound that Elijah realized in order to do so, he was going to have to keep his mark hidden from her.

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[transpoettryinghisbest]

Here's the fic that I foreshadowed with that meme lol. Trigger warnings are in the tags.

When I get there, he's sitting at the corner of the lower bunk, facing the corner of the wall - like a child put in timeout. I don't know how long he's been in that position. I can't see his face, but I can somehow tell he's scowling. Glad to know some things never change.

“M…Mr von Karma, sir?” The guard has suddenly come over all nervous.

“What is it, you fool?” He doesn't move as he speaks.

“You have…a new cellmate. Sir.”

“Cell…mate? Did I not specifically state that I wish to be left alone?”

“C'mon, Manny, is that any way to treat an old friend?” I say.

He finally turns to look at me. And the look on his face…I guess you could call it horrified. And angry.

“Get this man out of my sight!” he demands.

“S-sorry, sir,” the guard babbles. “There's no room.”

He continues to spout excuses, but Manfred isn't really listening. He looks back at me.

“So why are you really here? Have you come to laugh at the fallen attorney? Is that it?”

“You know I love a good laugh,” I chuckle. “But I'd be quite the hypocrite if I were to mock your current situation.”

I gesture to my new outfit. My wrists are finally free from those handcuffs, but I can still feel the remnants of them cutting into my skin.

Manfred's expression changes. “You…? What did you do?”

“A lot changed after you got sent away. Good thing we have a long time to catch up. Am I on the top bunk?”

He makes an indistinct response which I choose to mean yes. The guard excuses himself, and I get comfy.

“This is alright,” I say, fluffing the pillows. “I thought it'd be worse than this. But its not too bad, especially knowing I get to bunk down with you.”

I hear him grumble from the bottom bunk.

“What was that?” I ask. “I didn't catch it.”

“How are you so cheerful?” he repeats. “You just lost your freedom. Your job. Your family.”

“I don't have any family, remember? No, you don't remember things about other people, do you? Just yourself.” I chuckle. “Speaking of which, how is the wife?”

“I don't see her anymore.”

“She left you?”

“I have been convicted of murder!” he explodes. “How could I face her now? I was supposed to be perfection incarnate. Until I was caught. Now I'm here, being treated like common criminal scum.”

“Well that's no one's fault but your own, Manny. Fifteen years was a good run, but you knew you'd be caught eventually.”

“Only a fool would commit a crime that he thought he couldn't get away with.

“Maybe so.” I yawn, taking my glasses off and rubbing my eyes.

“I didn't expect such a defeatist attitude from the chief of police.”

“Ex Chief now. And believe me, I put up a fight. I wasn't going to go down quietly. But they eventually got the best of me. Watching all of my plans come crashing down wasn't easy. But now it's over, it's almost a relief that it's out. I can finally rest easy.” I lie my head down on the pillow. “I never thought I'd get taken down by your boy.”

“Edgeworth is not 'my boy'. I merely mentored him.”

“You did a good job. Though I imagine he won't thank you after what you did to him.”

He growls.

“I mean come on, I don't know what old Greggo did to you, but it can't have been enough to shoot him. He seemed like such a nice man.”

“Don't act like you're better than me, Gant. You still committed some kind of sin.”

“Ah, yes, I forgot about that part.”

He glares at me incredulously. I can't help but crack up.

“Just kidding. Well if you want to know anything, you only have to ask.”

“Do I seem remotely interested in your life?”

“I wouldn't be surprised if you were. Udgey never saw my fall from grace coming. Made me almost feel bad.”

Manfred doesn't reply. It seems that either he really isn't interested in me, or he just doesn't want to admit that he is. I could believe either.

“You know what's funny?” I say, eventually.

“What?”

“We both got taken down by the same man. The same random up and comer than no one had heard of.”

“Do not speak of him.”

“He's less than half my age and what's more, he beat me completely honestly. No forged evidence, no bogus witnesses, nothing. If I'd known that was possible, who knows? I may not even be here now.”

“You… That's what you did?”

“It's a little more complicated than that, but that's where it started. But the thing about bad decisions is that you never can make just one. One leads to another and before I knew it I could barely recognise myself.”

“That kind of defence wouldn't hold in a courtroom.”

“And it didn't. So here I am.” I roll over onto my other side. “Manny?”

“What?”

“Was it fun? Murdering Greg? Did it give you the satisfaction you were looking for?”

“Why do you ask?”

“I've just always wondered. I encountered many murder cases in my time, and each time I wondered what it would feel like. A dark part of me thought it'd be enjoyable. But in the end, it was just messy. In both senses of the word.”

He says nothing.

“You've never been a cheerful person, Manfred. I don't think murdering Greggo helped you at all, like you thought it would.”

“Silence.”

“Maybe that's why you treated Worthy the way you did.”

“SILENCE!!” He's practically frothing at the mouth. “You are either brave or foolish to test me. Given that you know what I've done.”

“What of it? I'm not afraid of death.”

That silences him.

“I know you think I'm just a naive idiot, but I know this is no tea party. You and I are just biding our time until we're both executed. I've come to terms with that fact. So why shouldn't I enjoy my time while I'm here?”

“Fool.”

“If you wish to murder me, that would only speed up the inevitable. So, Manfred, is that what you want? Would that make you feel better? It wouldn't change anything for either of us.”

He doesn't answer. Perhaps he doesn't know.

“I guess I'm safe for tonight, then. Hey, what's the food like, is it okay?”

He still says nothing.

[roger-that-cap]

meet me in the gardens

summary: y’all know the drill

warnings: reader is sort of bitter/cynical because of circumstances, unedited, two girls bonding as they should

word count: 4.5k

this is part four! all other parts are available on my masterlist!

The first time you met with Natasha in your gardens, you felt like you were committing some sort of heinous crime. You constantly checked over your shoulder to make sure that no one was watching you, to make sure that no one was going to see that you were heading to meet someone, and especially that no one knew who you were meeting. 

You were quiet as you rounded the area and saw no one waiting for you, your hopes of meeting with Natasha sparking out with more vigor than they had been sparked with, and before you could make yourself turn around, you sighed and then inhaled, trying to keep your nerves at a minimum. She wasn’t late. She couldn’t be late if she was doing you a favor. Before you could get too far in your thoughts, you heard the soft sound of a footstep coming, a stomp so loud that it almost felt intentional. You turned around and saw Natasha approaching, and for the first time, you saw the woman out of her armor. 

  It was like you were seeing something illegal, at first. You almost shied away, almost averted your eyes, but then you realized that you just… couldn’t. She was too pretty. She wasn’t delicate kind of pretty, and nor did she try to be or not to be, but she was just gorgeous. The moonlight, once again, was her ally as it worked to make her features pop, and illuminate her already bright eyes. Her lips were curved upwards in a hesitant smile, almost as if she didn’t expect for you to be there, let alone before her. And then it dropped, like she expected you to lose nerve and leave her there. The small sliver of vulnerability in her eyes made you take a small step forward and offer her your own awkward smile. 

 So, you spoke. “Thank you,” was all you were able to get out, but for the moment, that was enough. You expected her to playfully milk it, to ask you, “for what?”, and have you play some humbling game that was both passive and aggressive and teasing. But all she did was smile softly, as softly as the light was hitting the dew on the grass, and tell you that you didn’t have to thank her. 

  “Have you tried refuting it?” She asked, her voice a little less soft in the night. 

“I told you, it’s useless.” You stood up straighter and walked past her slowly, implying that you wanted to walk with her through your garden. “The High Priest’s word is practically law.” 

“The King is fond of you,” Natasha said, and you gave her a look. “If you ask him to challenge it, he will.” 

“He may, but I doubt he would think differently than any of the others. They think I should be married. They don’t think that a woman should be in charge of all of the things that I am in charge of.” You kicked a rock. “They think we’re useless.” 

“I know.” 

“That’s why I looked at you like that, you know,” you blurted, and she narrowed her eyes at you as she tried to understand what you were talking about. “When we first met, do you remember how I stared at you?” 

“I thought you were going to turn me away.” 

“No, not at all. And I apologize for my rudeness,” you added, and she gave you that curt knight’s nod, the nod that told the receiver of it that everything was fine. That whatever happened could be considered buried. “But I looked at you like that because… I’ve never seen a woman be a knight before. I’ve never seen a woman with rough hands, nor have I ever seen her natural desire of battle be fulfilled. I’ve seen common women get dirty and scoop fertilizer and gain muscles, but never for themselves. Always for the good of the family, the good of the farm. I had muscles on the farm when I was young because I had to, not by choice. But you… you look the way you do and behave the way you do by choice. You chose to be a knight, to be a protector, and to have calloused hands. Unfortunately, I never grew up having choices, but after my husband died, for a while I finally did. But now they’ve left me again, and it’s even worse now that I’ve become a lovesick romantic for the idea of free will.” 

You were more than embarrassed by your speech. You had hardly taken breaths throughout it, but miraculously, your words flowed together and you didn’t sound half as nervous as you felt on the inside after finally revealing a pathetic part of yourself. You waited less than patiently for her response as seconds ticked by with just the sounds of feet hitting and leaving the dirt, and the occasional drag of one foot against the ground. 

“So, you’re jealous?” 

You almost laughed. “Of course that’s what you got from that.” 

“And you were a commoner?” 

 You frowned. You were sure that she had heard it from someone else if not by you. And if not by the sword of someone else’s mouth, you assumed that she could spot another commoner from miles away, beneath all the layers of skirt and manners that you forced yourself to keep. “Of course I was, you can’t tell?” 

“Sometimes you use language that isn’t very… noble, but I wouldn’t have guessed that you were a commoner before.” You hummed and nodded to yourself. Your etiquette teachers always told you that your language and the accent that you  so desperately tried to hide would be your downfall. That, and the way you used to stare at hot food in the beginning like you had never seen a slab of meat in your life. “You seem like you’ve adapted nicely.” 

“I had no choice but to,” you said softly. “I was isolated. If I failed as a wife, there was no one that was going to be able to dig me out of the grave.” 

  “How did you meet Lord Mirellis?” You made a displeased sound, one that caught her attention. “You don’t have to answer.” 

“You owe me a backstory,” was all you said before clearing your throat and continuing to walk, staring at the flowers that you tended to while you spoke. “He saw me while I was working on the farm. I was feeding the pigs, I’ll never forget. He didn't really say much the first time he saw me, just watched and loomed over me like a shadow. I didn’t think much of it at the time besides to give him a curtsy because he was a high lord and I was close to nothing, and then I kept doing my work. I was young, I smelled like mud, and I was feeding pigs from my hand. I never thought twice about the way he looked at me, with his narrowed eyes. I assumed he was looking at me in disgust, like most nobles do to commoners. I didn’t think twice.” 

  “I went back into my house, a little brick thing, and there he was. I remember curtsying a second time, and my hands shook because the air between him and my father was so thick. I remember feeling something in my bones, feeling that things were about to go terribly wrong. So there I was, standing on the hay doormat with mud up to my knees and straw in my hair, smelling like pigs. And then he asked my father- no- told my father that he wanted to take me to his home and wed me, and that he would have it no other way. My heart stopped there. He told him no, and for a moment, I believed that he would keep refusing, until the lord started giving offers.  My heart stopped again, and it died when my father gave me one long look, and then looked at the man in front of him, who was much more powerful, much stronger physically, and able to ruin our family with one stroke of a pen. And then, without even talking to my mother, he told him yes.” 

“Oh…” Natasha said, and you nodded your head and sighed, almost like you were recounting another’s boring tale and not your own. 

“It felt like before I could even blink, he took me home, here, and married me. It was quick and expensive and I remember wearing a beautiful dress on that day, probably the prettiest dress I had ever seen at that point. It was everything I wanted as a child, because luxury was my first choice, even though it had gone unanswered and unfulfilled. And then I learned that luxury and the prettiest dresses that came with it didn’t mean anything if I didn’t have the choice to go with it. It was hard for me to learn, but I learned. But I didn’t learn to settle with my husband. I warmed his bed because I had to, I held his hand in front of others because I had to, I mingled with his family because I had to and because he kept me from mine. But I was never his, like it said in the vows. And he was never mine.” 

“Did you want that?” When there were a few beats of seemingly impenetrable silence, Natasha spoke again. “Did you want a relationship like that?” 

You scoffed, but it wasn't mocking, It was a sad sound, a sound that you wished you could have taken back the second it left you. “Not with him,” you scoffed again. “With someone else. As a girl, I always wanted to be married to someone who loved me, and someone I loved just as much. It was my dream, maybe even more than luxury was. I wanted love. Not true love, because everyone knows that doesn’t exist, but I wanted to fall asleep and wake with someone I could actually stand, someone that made me smile. He singlehandedly killed that dream. I don’t think it can ever be revived, but I also didn’t think that it could die a second time in the form of Brock Rumlow.”

“So you don’t like not having a choice, and a part of you is still holding onto the idea that you could find love?” 

“I suppose that I said all that to say what you’ve said in a few words.” You admitted softly, looking at your hands that used to have calluses. “I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t apologize,” Natasha insisted, shaking her head slowly. “I asked for you to tell me. I was honored to get the whole story.” 

You scoffed again, covering your arms with your hands as a gentle breeze blew. “You’re… you’re gentle with me.” 

  “Am I?” 

She was. It was something that you thought about, and also tried not to think about. You often caught yourself watching her wield her sword and exercise and walk into the woods only to return hours later, and claim that she was on some soul searching hunt. The look in her eyes was always hungry, always challenging, always looking for something deeper. But there, in the night with you, she looked just as gentle and delicate as the flowers you were both surrounded by. 

“You’re so fierce during the day, I see it. And I can see it brewing under your eyes, and I can hear it under your words. You’re not typically like this, are you?” 

 She waited a minute before she responded. “Why do you ask?” 

 “Because you’re not like this usually. It’s in your nature to be … harsh. This isn’t you.” 

“It is,” she corrected. “But it’s not the way that most people deserve to see me.” 

Your heart constricted. “And I deserve to see you this way?” 

“I think you deserve a lot of things.” She answered vaguely, and you stopped your walking to take a look at her and her face of indifference. “I think you deserve more kindness than you receive. I think you never got it to begin with.” 

“And you’re trying to make up for lost time?” 

“I’m trying to let you know that the world isn’t out to crush your spirit,” she said, sounding slightly exasperated. “You’re so burnt out that you hardly even know it, you know? You’re so tired with the world and the people in it and the wicked ways of both that you don’t even realize that you only have two more inches of rope. You don’t realize that you’re burning both ends of your candle, and it’s horribly tragic. You could be so much happier, if you would just let yourself.” 

 Your mouth could have been shown shut at that moment. Your eyes were bugging out of your head, and you doubted that they were dry. Her words were nearing desperate, tone past begging. Did she truly care that much? It was so odd. Even odder, was she right? 

  “Both ends of a candle, huh?” You asked, the visual coming to rest in your mind and you nodded, trying your best to keep it together. “And if I was? What would you have me do?” 

  “I would have you go and sit alone by yourself, and find what truly makes you happy. The twins would be glad to help you. You don’t have to burn during the daytime when you’ve got a perfectly good sun working. Two of them.” You let out a small chuckle. 

  She was right. As brutish as she seemed, Natasha was proving herself to be correct over and over again. But your head was starting to pound, and you were close to tears again. You couldn’t let yourself cry in front of her. 

Not yet. 

“I think I’ll retire,” you said softly, voice flowing as gently as the breeze as you watched her nod her head. “Is there… is there anything you want to talk about?” 

“I’ll save my backstory for the next time.” 

“Next time,” you repeated, somehow, the words sounded foreign on your tongue. “Okay. I’ll be counting on it by the day,” you said, your voice a little too heavy to be a lighthearted tease, but she indulged you anyway. 

“I’m sure you’ll hardly even make it to four.” 

§§

Natasha was right, you hadn’t made it to four. Next time came in the form of two nights later, after you had cried your eyes out in your room for two days straight all by yourself, not even allowing Wanda in to come and dress you. Your eyes were puffy and your palms had little crescents indented in them from your nails digging in out of nerves and to distract you from the ache in your chest. The moon had barely finished rising in the sky when you trudged out of your room, gave four knocks on Natasha’s door and hoped that she would take the hint, and then took off towards the gardens. 

 While you waited, you couldn’t help but to watch the flowers sway in the breeze. The weather was constantly warm yet breezy in your region of the kingdom, and it had always been one of your favorite parts of living in Riverstone. The moonlight changed their colors, made them look somewhat eerie in the night as you waited by yourself for a knight that may or may not show.

 “I assumed this was what four knocks were for,” Natasha’s voice mused from behind you, and you didn’t even jump. “I assume you don’t just want to-”

“Can you tell me about yourself?” You interrupted, glancing at her and giving her a dejected look that you didn’t even realize you were wearing. “Please?” 

  “Um, yeah,” Natasha muttered, and then she cleared her throat. Her blue eyes connected to yours while she started to tell her story. “I grew up in the slums, you know that. Near the castle, in the capitol.” You had assumed that much. “I grew up watching knights, and I realized that was what I wanted to be when I was young. And unfortunately for me, I never stop going after the things that I want.” 

“That’s a gift,” you said, and she shook her head. 

“It depends on the things that I want. More times than not, it’s a curse.” Her eyes trailed over to a rose that was working on blooming, and then back to you. “Two other kids I grew up with felt the same way, Steve and James, but he always went by “Bucky”. They’re older than me, but it felt like I was always looking out for them. And I wouldn’t have had it any other way. They’re knights now, they passed their quests.”

 “That’s wonderful,” you said, and she nodded her head. 

“They live together now, out in the country about a hundred leagues west of here.” 

Your eyes nearly bugged out of your head. “They- they live together?” 

Just like that, Natasha’s almost carefree recollection of ehr memories was sliced through with an iron tone and a steely glare as she watched your expression, protecting her lifelong friends that weren’t even there to hear anything you could say. “Something wrong with that?” 

 “They- they could be killed for that,” you whispered, eyes fixated on her despite how mean she looked in the moment. 

“That’s why they live in the country,” she muttered, turning her head away from you, and you could have sworn that she clenched her jaw in what looked like disappointment. “I didn’t think that you were the type to judge that.” 

 You weren’t. You were actually judged, especially after some people in the beginning of your stay at Riverstone started to believe that you were having an affair with Wanda. You weren’t, and Wanda was simply your best friend, but that didn’t stop you from realizing how harsh the world was. Sexuality was never your concern, seeing as you never had choices to act on whichever way your heart swayed anyway. 

 But you couldn't deny that you were getting nervous for the way your fickle little heart acted around Natasha. 

  “I’m not, I promise,” you said, and she gave you a long look. “I just… I just know that people have been hurt because of… the way that they love. It’s not right, but it happens.” 

  “And you?” Natasha asked, and you furrowed your brows. “Who do you love?” You knew that she wasn’t talking about a specific person. She was talking about sexuality. 

Men. I love men. That was what you should have said, something along those lines and something concrete. It should have been something that would have convinced her and yourself that you were in the clear, that you loved the way society wanted you to. But instead, like Natasha always managed to, you opened your mouth and told the truth. “I don't know.” 

You looked away before you could see the pure shock flood her face, and then the mask of understanding that collapsed it. 

“It doesn’t matter who you love,” she said quietly, almost as if anything louder than a whisper would frighten you back into being reserved. “Only how you do it.”

“I’m not sure that priests feel the same way,” you muttered, and she snorted a bit. The sound coming from a woman both shocked you and made you grin. 

  “Those same priests abuse children. It’s safe to say that I have no cares for anything they have to say about me and my lifestyle.” You sucked in a breath at that and looked towards her, eyes wide as you waited for her to say something else so terribly true but all you looked over to find was a knowing smile on her face as she looked right back at you, painstakingly gorgeous. Your breathing stopped for a moment. 

“And you?” You dared to ask, but your boldness was erased by the way that your voice trembled. She gave you a look that attempted to convince you that she knew nothing of what you were talking about, but the glint in her eyes gave her away. “Your… preference.”

“I hope my lack of answer keeps you up all night,” she said, and she turned her back to you abruptly, starting to walk away. You sputtered until you could find words. 

“Wait, what?” You reached out to grab her, warm hand wrapping around the cold skin of her arm, and she turned her head to look at you, face so close that you got nervous. Your eyes drifted downwards, and then back just as quickly. Your heart raced in your chest when you thought about her leaving you behind by yourself in the garden, and then it ached again when you really understood what your panic was about. You didn’t want to be without her, being alone didn’t bother you any other time. “What made you want to be a knight?” You asked out of nowhere, and you saw her face scrunch up. “If it’s not too much to ask to know.” 

  “I… it’s not much. I didn’t see anything heroic or watch anyone be saved. There was no knight that saved me either, no knight that I looked up to. In fact, I was the one out of the three of us who wanted to be a knight first,” she said, and you leaned forward, almost like it would make her point come faster. “I read a story… you know the one about Sir Yuriel and Lady Selene?” 

   You blinked. Of course you did. Everyone knew that story. It was a common one that was read to children right before bed, about a time where the crime for falling in love with someone who wasn’t your intended was punishable by death. “The one where they run away from the people trying to kill him together?” 

“Yes,” Natasha said, and you furrowed your brows. It was hardly a positive story. It was a story drilled into young minds about the dangers of not doing what they were told to do, and what could happen if they chose to carve their own paths. 

“The knight dies at the end,” you pointed out. 

“He dies protecting her,” she corrected, but you just shook your head at her. 

“Regardless, he died. Why would you want to die?” 

“I don’t want to die,” she said, and you waited for the other part of her answer. “I want to do what he did, but better. As bad as I might still seem to you, I’m still a girl. And I want to love someone so much that I would give everything for them, and I want them to love me back enough for them to give up all the riches that Selene did. Just like you.” 

You ignored the pang in your chest at her accuracy, and the knowing look in her deep eyes. “Oh, so you’re a liberator? You save women from unfortunate circumstances?” 

“More like I just hate seeing things that are blatantly wrong, and I like to fix them.” 

“Then you’re in the wrong profession. You should have tried for a king’s associate.” 

“The people who are the true menaces listen to swords, not dried ink.” She patted her hip, right where the hilt of her sword would have been if she was in her armor. “I’m right where I need to be.” 

“In the middle of the garden of a widower, who cries herself to sleep every night after learning that she’s to be wed again?” You asked, and somehow, despite the severity of your words, there was a teasing lilt to your tone. 

 “I think we’re both right where we need to be.” 

“Oh, wouldn’t that be something? If the stars lined up kindly for a change.” You couldn’t hold back your scoff. “I’d get on my knees and pray for the first time in years.” 

Natasha stared at you for a long moment, her eyes calculating something that was completely lost to you as you crossed your arms and looked right back at her, a quiet and tension free challenge hanging in the air between you. “Have you ever even watched the stars to see if they aligned?”

“I don’t have the time or the spirit for that,” you said, a small laugh edging out the hardness in your voice.

 “Interesting.” 

§§

You had a day full of Pietro, an evening just sitting and talking mindlessly with Wanda, and then you got a sharp round of knocks on your door, and though you had never gotten them before, you knew exactly what they meant. 

Natasha was waiting for you, and the sight of her had you nearly choking. She was in a flowy white gown, the material so thin that it could have been a night gown. Her hair that was typically up during the day was down, and the Riverstone breeze was as evident as ever as she stared back at you, either waiting for an action or a few words to come from you. However, the second you opened your mouth, she shook her head. 

“Not a word. We’re stargazing tonight.” 

The part of you that was beaten into being mature was immediately turned off by the idea. Stargazing was something that you hadn’t done since childhood, and being a child never got you anywhere you needed to be. But the other part of you, the one that had been buried in dust just like your hands from that time had been covered in mud, wanted to do it. It both excited you and terrified you, because not even Wanda could make that part of you surface, not like how it was then. 

  You knew, without a doubt, that it had everything to do with Natasha Romanoff. 

You pretended to debate,but on the inside, you were already giving the stars love-eyes. “Let’s do it, then.”

It lasted for hours. Mostly, the two of you were silent, but that hardly meant that the two of you weren’t bonding. Every so often, she would turn her head to look over at you, and you would ignore the electrifying feeling of her blue eyes on the side of the face, vision fluttering all around your face. And then, you would look at her the same way, studying her like your former etiquette teachers would stare at your sewing and your posture. You found that with her being so close, you couldn’t deprive your eyes of watching her.

But when you weren’t looking at her for your own benefit or looking at her watching you, you were watching the stars. You laid under the arch of the gardens with her, a few petals blocking the way of a few distant stars. It felt… right. It felt natural, with the silence and all, and above anything, it just felt peaceful. You forgot everything that was troubling you within minutes of just lying there next to her. Feeling the warmth of her skin and the security of her being near was worth more than a thousand words, and you found that in that moment, sitting in silence with her and looking at the stars that had screwed you over so terribly was one of the best decisions that you had ever made. 

*****

hi guys! hope you liked this installment!! it’s about to be really fluffy and then we’ll get into what i like the most: drama wjjdjjdjdjx

question!!: i have about 13k worth of hades!natasha x persephone!reader in the vault. would you rather me start posting it now or wait for this series to be finished? we’re getting there with this one, ish.

tags! : @teenwonder @procrastinatingsapphictrash @fayhar @8plasma @slut-for-nat @dontmindmejustreading @swords-are-cool @200605chaeng @thescottishavenger @antidaytime @jenny-song @madamevirgo @natasha-danvers @blackxwidowsxwife​