#you may yet get the full painting this was meant to be because I did love the sketch

[stylishanachronism]

Happy new year @perenians ! I hope you like your @secret-st-waidwen-exchange gift! Ahria was very very fun to draw, and it was great learning all about her!

(If you’d like the original, please let me know, I’ll be happy to mail it to you!)

[i4oba]

nct dream as… / fanfiction aus 𓈒✳︎🏡

[take the quiz here to see which one you get!]

✰ MARK — childhood friends to lovers!au

ever since you've basically known your name, mark has been the boy next door. there was the cheeky, red letters of "lee" painted on the mailbox, the windows were adorned with the same coloured curtains, and the same doormat has been sitting in front of their door for ages. you have loved mark ever since you two have met. there wasn't a day where you wouldn't think of him, and there hasn't been a day when you haven't loved him. it was like a vicious circle which you couldn't get out of, because those stupid feelings would destroy the oh so precious friendship of yours, and you cannot let that happen, right? i mean, that's what you've thought for far too long, since this friendship meant more to you, than the fragile feeling of love - you didn't want it to get to the point where you would rather spit on each other, than talk it out. maybe that's why you pushed him away from yourself? maybe you just did that because you weren't too sure of your own peace of mind? no matter what, you knew the decision itself was wrong, only to realize it way too late. damaging the friendship and crying yourself to sleep was all your fault, after all, being way too proud and scared, stupid even; when you came back to the town where you two grew up, the least thing you wanted was to meet mark lee, mainly because you wouldn't have been able to look him in the eyes after all these happened. but you had to, so soon you even got a little surprised. it's been a while since the last time you have been home, your bedroom seemed way too unfamiliar at that point, just like the vhs tape placed directly in the middle of your bed. one which you haven't seen yet. it didn't have a title, the white label completely empty as you picked it up. you were a little bit cautious when placing it in the system, waiting for it to play whatever is on it, not having such large imagination to expect anything. it was a home video montage, full of videos of you and mark: playing together, getting ready for the first day of school, going to the movies, the way you two got engaged in middle school as a joke, and the omnious day of prom... you got teary eyed, with one thing on your mind - you have to go and save whatever's left now. maybe you're not too late.

✰ RENJUN — soulmate!au

life had been pretty much grey and dreary until you found The One. the other half everyone had been so obsessed to find. you were never big on all this stuff, because you were convinced you'd be able to live as a single half for you whole life, and don't need anyone else to feel complete. deep inside you knew that all of this is bullshit, truly, and all that was coming out of you was true bitterness and constantly ongoing unsuccessful confessions, making you believe in your delusions. with every passing second, you had to see people find their other half, while you were left to deal with the grey world you were left in, not as a choice but as fate instead. you felt like a loser, a big zero, who doesn't even deserve a soulmate. you thought you were destined to die alone, maybe compensate with something of brilliance: be a composer or a singer, write or paint something extraordinary, lord knows what, just something of importance! you were looking for yourself in every corner of the world, not for a lover or a fling, not for an other half, fully ignoring the law of attraction. it might have been some reverse psychological trick, effecting it all. and this may have been the reason behind why you had to leave that horribly boring theatre play, sneaking out and bumping into The One, who handed back your accidentally dropped bag, slowly looking into your eyes. he might have worked at the theater as he was wearing a name tag on his elegant shirt - huang renjun, it said. but it doesn't even matter, because his eyes were brown! brown! not grey, brown! everything cleared up. you did find the half - with brown eyes and a smile so bright.

✰ JENO — coffee shop!au

it was pretty much bittersweet to step foot in your favourite café: it was getting dark out there, and although the rain has stopped pouring, you got absolutley soaked to the core along the way there, rain replacing the tears on your face by then. your hair was sticking to your forehead uncomfortably, your body trembling without stopping, as you entered. the bell placed above the entrance was ringing lightly, gathering everyone's attention to you, although there wasn't too much people there except for the baristas, maybe two wandering souls, working on their laptops or reading in a cozy corner. well, maybe if it wasn't for getting dumped literal minutes ago, you wouldn't be here either, but it was still the most reasonable choice compared to going to a club or a ruin bar, gettig incredibly drunk, Plus! a good espresso might be able to clear the fog in your head, which you were in need of during this stupidly stressing period of life. you expected hyuck to greet you by the coffee machine, grinning ear to ear, as he always does when you visit between two lectures, but there was a completely new face behind the counter. it's been a long time since you've last seen a new employee here. his smile was sweet and rather warm, eyes conveying a sense of concern as you took one step closer, rubbing your eyes while getting your purse out of your pocket - you discreetly looked at his name tag, right on his black apron: lee jeno. whatta name... by then, you were way to hopeless to try and guess how the day would go, but life had to surprise you, fate deciding funnily against all odds: next to your cup of coffee, there was a napkin, hiding a telephone number on it, messily written down with a short message as well: "would you go out on a date with me, darling? :)"

✰ HAECHAN — rivals to lovers!au

lee donghyuck's name rushed through the hallways of your music academy just as quietly as a whisper, and you never knew why was it all like that ever since you've stepped foot into the school. you couldn't even hide the way too obvious rolls of your eyes every time you heard it. lee donghyuck was one of the biggest prodigies at the academy, no one could even be considered as a rival for him, this is mainly why he was such a big living legend amongst the students - you couldn't even hide how annoyed this made you, especially because he made sure you knew this ever since you two were little. music played a huge part in both of your lives, and somehow, you two always seemed to be at each other's throat, the first place at being the best always changing between the two of you. you could never get rid of each other either; your dad, always being so positive, once said, on your way to the academy sometime between sophomore and junior year, that the only reason behind this is that you two are equally good at what you're doing. you were pretty much skeptic for the longest of time, and felt as if you were destined to be the forever second next to him. you've had enough of always bumping into walls, since hyuck was the one who could stand at the first place ever so proudly. in kindergarten, in middle school, and even in high school, every. god damn. time. and that infuriating smile was plastered all upon his face even when you two were asked to not perform alone on the annual charity gala of your academy - you two had to perform something phenomenal, putting the childish jarring aside, growing out of the silly phase of hating each other, which was all made up by you, and you only, pushing the poor boy away from you. the boy who had always been so obsessed with you, utterly and completely. he won this time again, isn't it right?

✰ JAEMIN — photographer!au

when jaemin brought up the idea of making the last parts of his portfolio with you (which basically means about you), you were a little bit skeptic at first. you loved jaemin dearly, since he was a really understanding friend, but... you were simply terrified of cameras. you didn't really like the idea of being captured at all, you hated looking back at yourself on pictures taken of you, and you couldn't even think about how high quality his pictures would be with that hyper super machine, focused on all the little flawed details of your face that you absolutely despised. no, you couldn't even bear the idea of this whole project, and you stood by this decision of yours, jaemin waiting patiently the whole time, not pushing it too hard. since he wanted to work with you no matter what, giving up on his plan wouldn't be too typical of him - the fight didn't last long but it was pretty heated, him highlighting so many known things that needed to be said finally: it's childish how you reflect on yourself, and your delusions stop you from way too many things. the way he said straight into your face how beautiful he thinks you are, inside and outside, and that he wants the whole world to know how ethereal you are, made you tear up a little - especially when he said his heart breaks every time you speak so lowly of yourself. he truly thinks you're the modern manifestation of aphrodite, that you are his own venus, the muse of him, someone he can adore... that he's way too in love with you to let go of this, and-; the kiss you gave him was short, yet gave him exact answers. answers to hundreds and thousand of unsaid questions he kept hidden in himself for years and years on end.

✰ CHENLE — blind date!au

you clearly didn’t brace yourself for this whole fiasco proposed by donghyuck himself, foolishly believing his reasonings behind how perfect of a matchmaker he is. of course you knew that what he way saying was partly stupid, plus you were like a seventy percent sure he wasn't even sober when he set up a blind date during that omnious frat party he wasn't invited to. you didn't have to worry or anything, that's just how you were - overly anxious of such things, even if you weren't meeting a psychopath. you were only a bit vary of the awkwardness this whole new experience would bring, both of you rushing home way too soon from the date, trying to forget about it as soon as possible. these misconceptions about how the night would go stayed straight until you stopped in front of the restaurant to wait for your - then late already - date. you were a little nervous he stood you up, and you got yourself into the most beautiful piece of clothing from you wardrobe for nothing, but it was worth it, looking back at it, as zhong chenle arrived and you two simply just... clicked? automatically? not to mention you two decided to leave the place after the hors d'oeuvre, since you both found the place a little too fancy at that moment, going to a simple ice cream parlor instead, taking a walk in the park after, talking about anything and everything that came to mind: family, politics, movies and the most embarrassing memories from your childhood came up too, as you couldn't help but laugh at how chenle dropped his ice cream cone on the ground, while he simultaneously promised you that he wouldn't drop the cone on the next date - and you smiled, so happily.

✰ JISUNG — secret admirer!au

you were head over heels for jisung and his undying love for dancing. but, thinking a bit deeper about it, while writing that foolish, teenager like love letter for him, forced into the role of his secret admirer, there were much more of those things that made you feel head over heels for the boy: he showed you what persistence was, he spent the whole of his youth with you, and he wasn't afraid to spend the rest of his life with you, helping you out anytime you're in need of it, since he couldn't not do that as you "best friend". he couldn't be evil with you, he was never able to leave you and he couldn't even envision a future in which you weren't by his side. but the border he made up between the two of you, was never crossed - you two were friends, not more, not less. you were so torn deep inside, as you were helpless, being in the never ending limbo you would rather push forward, but he kept on tugging it backwards; the idea of writing letters was originally from your mother, who had enough of your obvious agony. she was positive you would write every feeling of yours out, making it easier as time goes by. their number kept growing, however, one letter becoming a dozen soon enough, maybe even more in the meantime, while not writing a name on any of them, referring to yourself only as a mere secret admirer. they suddenly disappeared from the bottom of your drawer one day, though, realizing way too late that the ringing phone in your pocket was in fact park jisung, the picture of him taking up the screen of your mobile - did he know?

[jezabelle9299]

Moving day S.R x fem! reader

Overture- Reader is moving into a neighborhood where a serial killer is hunting down women living alone, so when the FBI shows up on her doorstep she gets assigned protective custody from one Dr. Spencer Reid

*Includes references to season 1 episode 18 "Someone's watching" but this is season 3 or later

You were finally getting space away from your family, you’d finally saved up enough. You were able to actually buy a small house, as a mortgage payment ended up being cheaper than rent. You may be living it up in a two bedroom now, but you were no heiress. Movers were out of the question, you rented a small moving truck and set out to do a 24 hour moving day. You’d painted, picked up all of your second hand furniture, all of your packed boxes, and changed the locks. You’d just finished moving the first set of boxes inside when a black suv pulled in behind you in the driveway. An older gentleman came out and made a beeline towards you, with a man that looked like he could be his son trailing behind him. 

“My name is Agent Rossi, and this is Dr. Reid, we’re with the FBI. We’d like to ask you a few questions.” You’d lived here a minute and a half and federal agents were knocking on your door. Your mother would have a stroke if you told her, so you focused on the younger guy who was about your age instead of letting your mind spiral with the possibilities of why they’re here. 

“Sure, what can I do for you?” Your attention was pulled from the Dr. Reid, who’d yet to speak, when his colleague spoke up again. 

“Can we come in?” The last thing you wanted was strangers in your house, but they had badges so you felt like you couldn’t realistically say no. Plus they could at least help you unload a couple of boxes while they talked. 

“Sure, but everyone needs to grab a box first, I’m on a bit of a tight timeline.” 

“Understood.” They each grabbed a box, and you did a small internal celebration that they grabbed the boxes of books you’d been dreading carrying inside. You grabbed one of the smaller ones, full of clothes instead. Once you arrived you sat down on the arm of your couch, gesturing for them to sit on the two chairs you’d picked up earlier that day. 

“Thank you for getting those, I appreciate it. What can I do for you?”

The younger man spoke up for the first time since he’d been there. ��We were hoping you could answer a few questions for us about the neighborhood.” 

“I’m sorry, I don’t think I can help you. Unfortunately the moving boxes aren’t really for decoration. I’ve lived here for less than a day.” 

“We actually think you could be in a unique position to help, because you haven’t lived here long.You would be more acutely aware of the behavior of your neighbors because you aren’t used to it.” 

“Alright, then by all means, ask away.” The younger man asked almost all of the questions, with the older Agent Rossi taking diligent notes in his notepad. He started with questions of your interactions with your neighbors, but then shifted to the crime that brought him there. Someone had been targeting young women who lived alone in the few blocks surrounding your house. 

“Would you be comfortable coming to the station to be put in protective custody?” You’d say yes in a heartbeat if it was any other day. Especially if it meant being in Dr.Reid’s orbit. You weren’t big into dating, yet there was something–compelling about him. But this was quite possibly the busiest day you’d had in the last year. 

“No, I’m sorry but I can’t. I’ve still got boxes to unpack, furniture to put together, I can’t just pick up and leave.” 

“Understood. Give us just one second.” Agent Rossi chimed in, pulling Dr. Reid aside while you checked your phone. Well, mostly staring at the homepage while eavesdropping on their hushed conversation. They were terrible at whispering.

“Why don’t you stay here with her? You can help us over the phone if we need it, and she fits the victimology.”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea. She’s a little bit distracting. Maybe you should stay with her.”

“That’s exactly why you should stay with her, have you seen the way she looks at you? I swear she wouldn’t even notice I was here if I didn’t talk first.”  

The young man eventually relented, although he still seemed a bit pouty about the whole thing. Then Agent Rossi turned his attention back to you, and you pretended not to have been eavesdropping on the whole thing. You couldn’t tell if he was buying it.

“How would you feel about Dr. Reid offering you protective custody here? You could go about your business, Dr. Reid would just keep an eye out for you.” 

“Yeah that’d be fine, if he’s ok with it? It certainly won’t be interesting, you know, unless someone does decide to kill me.” He paled for a second before realizing it was a joke. You nudged him with your elbow, and then he finally let out a shaky exhale. Not really a laugh, but you’ll take it. Agent Rossi just gave you a smile and pat Dr. Reid on the shoulder. 

“You kids have fun.” Then when the door was mostly closed behind him, he opened it back up to say “Not too much fun.” before laughing to himself all the way to the car. You pulled the tape off of one of the boxes before unloading some of your books onto the shelves you put up that morning. 

“So Dr. Reid, what favor did you owe him to get stuck with me? Did you lose a bet or something?” 

“You–uh, you can just call me Spencer, and why would you think I wouldn’t want to be here?” 

“Why would you? I mean, it must be exciting being in the FBI and all, if it were me I wouldn’t want to babysit a fully grown adult.”

“It’s not babysitting, and I’m happy to be here.”

“Well that’s very sweet. But you're about to regret every life choice that’s led you to this point.” His face stiffened with confusion at that before you laughed teasingly. 

“We have to move my mattress out of that truck. Since you’re here, I’d love to get out of dragging it on a tarp outside.” He actually laughed at that, and you were grateful you could get an actual laugh from him with that stupid of a joke. Maybe you had a chance with him after all. 

You’d just managed to get the mattress on the boxspring in your room, barely. You crashed down onto it in celebration and exhaustion. 

“This is the fruit of our labor, and for that I thank you. I think this calls for a drink.” You jumped back up and bounced to the kitchen, with Spencer trailing slowly behind you, still trying to catch his breath. You continued talking to him down through the hallway. “I’m not big into actual drinking so I don’t have any alcohol, but I have water, orange juice, and coffee I think.” 

He breathed a sigh of relief at the fact you’d stop going for a second. Before unloading your mattress you unpacked 3 boxes, and unloaded 6, while he could only struggle to keep up. You even found the energy to make conversation while you did it, and he was panting by the end, attempting to talk and lift. He’d never struggled to talk before. Every once in a while he needed to take a break from helping you to help the team, with them calling for whatever random information he could give, yet he was still lagging behind you with every trip back outside. 

“Coffee sounds amazing.” He figured the coffee maker was already set up, with the energy you had, you'd have to have more than he did. And he had 4 cups this morning. 

“Coming right up!” His relief at your pause in momentum was short lived. You made your way back to the living room and started shifting through boxes again. 

“What are you looking for? I thought you wanted to take a break.” 

“The coffee maker, it’s in one of these boxes, I just can’t remember which one. I mostly use it when I have guests.” You peaked his interest with that, there was no way that you just had all this motivation. It was humanly impossible. 

“Do you usually order yours? Or do you have a preference for energy drinks?”  Then you found the box holding the coffee machine and cut it open, laughing just a little bit to yourself at his interrogation-like line of questioning over something so simple. 

“Neither, I’m just not super into it. All of this annoying is 100% natural.” You plastered a cheesy smile on your face as you turned to him, coffee pot in hand. He just furrowed his brow in confusion. 

“I don’t think you’re annoying, but your relentless energy is interesting.” 

“Well thank you, Spencer. I don’t think I have creamer, but I definitely have sugar, so I hope that’s ok?” 

“Sugar is perfect, thank you again.” 

“Of course, thanks for helping me with that mattress, and you know, the whole bodyguard thing you’ve got going on.” You got down one of the mugs you’d recently put away, before passing it, filled with coffee, along with the sugar to Spencer.

“I’ve got to return that truck as soon as we get everything out of it, but I can pick up some food on the way back? And I’ve got movies in one of these boxes. You’re welcome to pick something, I like everything in there.” He chugged the coffee in his hand before moving with you toward the door. 

“Sorry, but protective custody only works when I’m close to you. So as long as you’re still ok with it, I’ll go with you. Also there’s no way I’m letting you pay for dinner after intruding on your space all day.” 

“Alright, then we’d better get started, the sun’s setting soon, and I hate the idea of driving that thing at night.” He gave a short nod and followed you out. You got the rest of the boxes, returned the truck, and picked up your car from the lot. When you went to pick up dinner Spencer, true to his word, insisted on paying. You sat on the floor and ate off the box your coffee table came in, deciding to put it together another day. When you cleaned up and finished unpacking your boxes of books and dvds you told Spencer he could pick a movie. He chose the one sci-fi flick from your collection, and you were not at all surprised. 

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

You weren’t quite sure when it happened. When you had moved to the couch, when you had offered to share a blanket with Spencer, or when you ended up falling asleep propped against his arm, the energy you had all day finally exhausted. The movie was long since forgotten when his phone rang and he answered in a whisper, not realizing the ringtone had already woken you up. 

“Hey Morgan, what’s up?”

“Hey kid, we found him, so you’re free to go. Unless of course, you’d like to stay.” You could hear the teasing tone in his voice even through the phone.

“What are you talking about?” 

“Oh forget it, Rossi already told everyone. Look, we’re not leaving until tomorrow morning. Just be at the station at 5 to pack up before we go, now go and make me proud.” You assumed he hung up with the way Spencer let out a long sigh before putting his phone back in his pocket. 

“Everything ok?” You mumbled out, alerting Spencer to the fact you were awake and continuing to stay propped against him for your own benefit, before leaning up to stretch and be able to look him in the eye. 

“Everythings fine, we found the person we were looking for, so we’re headed back to Virginia in the morning.” There was an air of sadness to his response, so you thought back on what the other agent said. 

“I know you probably have to get back, but it’s late and you’re welcome to stay here if you like.”

“I really couldn’t, it’s not only an imposition, but really inappropriate. There’s this concept called transference, essentially it’s where you project affectionate feelings onto people who are helping you, or hold some position of authority. I can’t possibly take advantage like that.” He shuffled to get up from your couch, straightening his clothes and grabbing his things to put them in his leather bag. 

“If you don’t want to, that's totally fine, but I wasn’t in danger. It was realistically babysitting more than anything, no one came after me, and nothing bad happened. Also, no offense, but I don’t really think of you or your friend from earlier as ‘Authority’. You’re like my age, and it’s not like you’re cops or anything. You’re federal agents, which is cool and all, but I’m not a murderer, so it’s not like I’m intimidated by you. I like you, but I’m not intimidated by your authority.” He couldn’t quite form a response, and his thoughts were swimming with the fact that he’d been assigned protective custody by himself twice and he ended up in this situation twice. I mean what are the odds. You were nothing like Lila though, with her he felt nervous all the time, but it was so easy spending the day with you. 

“You like me?” He was genuinely shocked, and you feigned exasperation, with an over dramatic eye roll, and a cheesy smile. 

“Yes I like you. It wasn’t exactly an accident that I fell asleep on you, and continued to stay there after your ringtone woke me up.” He allowed himself a shocked smile, he wanted to keep his emotions neutral so as not to pressure you, but he couldn’t contain this. 

“Could I maybe get a response? I’m feeling a bit vulnerable here.”

“Sorry— yes of course I like you. I mean, have you seen you? You’re quite possibly the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen. I’ll stay if you’ll still have me, but I’m sleeping on the couch.”

“What a gentleman–” Just as you were about to tell him that sleeping on the couch was a terrible idea with his height, his phone rang again. 

“Reid.”

“Hey Spence, there’s a problem. We aren’t getting that break after all, and we need to get going now. We’ll brief you on the plane, but we need to go. Now.” 

“Alright, I’ll be there soon. Thanks JJ.” He looked at you reluctantly after he hung up. 

“I have to go, but I really want to see you again. Would–Would that be ok?” 

“Of course it would Spencer, I’m just a phone call away.” You pulled out one of the post-its you were using to label boxes and scribbled your number on it. 

“Also at the very least, you know where I live.” You laughed, and he did more of a shaky sigh while shaking his head at you. You opened the door for him, and said your goodbyes, wishing him good luck on whatever it was he was about to do. 

You didn’t need to wait by the phone long, with him calling you to set up your first date that evening. It was a short drive from Quantico to your house, so he was hopeful about his new relationship. He just hoped this would be the last time you needed protection. He’d be there, and he just hoped that was enough for now. 

[crookedkryptonitebeliever]

Yandere Coworker (part 14)

Thank you @i---believe---in---pink for commissioning this chapter.

(2945 words)

tw: afab reader, infantilization, butchered Spanish,

Masterlists (+commission info), part 1, part 15

You're in Cyprus's car, munching on one of the many treats he bought you from the farmers market. It distracted you from how Cyprus would sensually knead your thigh as he drove.

The car is full of fresh vegetables and fruits that he bought, so he could make tastier meals for you and him. In his styrofoam cooler, rest slabs of butchered meat and numerous ice packs to keep them from spoiling, as the ride home is quite far.

He was talking about an anecdote, in an attempt to prompt you to open up to him. But his tactic has been failing for the past half hour, all you did was nod and eat.

Cyprus pursed his lips as he glanced at you from the corners of his eyes. You have exhausted his conversational topics and he has a whole arsenal of them. You're driving him insane! What does it take for you to talk to him about yourself? He failed to consider that you may not have a lot to say in the first place because he truly believed that you are complex and more than your internet addiction. He wants to know your thoughts, more about your likes and dislikes, your beliefs, family, friends... anything!

Then, he had an idea.

"We're not going home just yet."

You looked at him and asked what he meant by that. He merely smirked and stayed silent.

-

Cyprus didn't drive back to his apartment or yours like you expected. You knew it was close to his home, since you and he passed by this place to get there.

He pulled up to a dilapidated building, no doubt another apartment complex but older and dingier. The wall paint was chipping off, and windows were shrouded with overgrown trees and moss. Cars were haphazardly parked around the complex without regulation or visible parking lines.

He pulled on his handbrake and switched his engine off. You're still staring out the window, wondering where he took you.

"Baby." You turned around, to have him cup your cheek and gently pull your lower eyelid down with a thumb. You initially struggled against him but relaxed when you realized he meant no harm and wouldn't let go until he got what he wanted. Which was to examine your eyes.

He hummed, staring intensely at you. Making you blush at how attractive he appears to you now, you would be caught dead before admitting that to him. But you didn't have to, he knows what you're thinking and is fully aware of how he presents himself.

Cyprus checked the time on his wristwatch. He finally lets go of you and reaches for his center console, where he has tucked your medicated eyedrops away.

You complained, telling him that you could apply your own antibiotics. He merely clicked his tongue in annoyance and rolled his eyes as he uncapped the bottle. "Look up."

You didn't have to do anything, Cyprus was the one who tilted your head upwards while pulling a lower eyelid down. Sighing, you let him administer the drops in your eyes. It felt humiliating, yet secretly, you felt somewhat comforted to know someone was out there remembering these little details of you. If it wasn't for him, the thought of your medication would have completely slipped your mind.

You blinked hard, letting the liquid sting your eyes momentarily. You could hear the rustling of the pharmacy's paper bag as he kept your medicine away. He had also pulled a sheet out of his tissue box. "Stop that!" Cyprus hissed, pulling your hands away from your face as you instinctually went on to rub your eyes.

You grumbled, letting Cyprus coddle you; gently wiping the excess drops using the tissue and carefully picking the crust out from the corners of your eyes. You remained still for the entirety of this, allowing Cyprus to do whatever he pleases. Luckily, he's acting with the best intentions in mind.

"There, done." He crumpled the sheet of tissue and shoved it into his pocket to dispose of it later. Cyprus then kissed you on the forehead. "Good girl." Whispered praises and chuckling.

You didn't respond, but instead stormed out of his car and slammed the door shut behind you. Cyprus got out shortly after, he took out the styrofoam cooler from his trunk and a couple bags of fresh vegetables before locking his car using his key fob.

"Come on, let's meet tu suegra." He gestured for you to follow him to a dim stairwell, where the only source of lighting was the outdoors. Cyprus started ascending the steps with the bags in hand.

The cogs started turning in your head, you may or may not understand what he just said, but all hints are suggesting that you're now at his mother's place. You also noted how his American accent suddenly changed into a completely different one when saying those two words. However, looking back, he tends to roll his "R"s.

You tailed behind Cyprus, climbing the bare, concrete stairs with suspect hand railings. It's dusty and cobweb-ridden, but at least it's functional.

You and he eventually reached an open-air corridor, grateful for the sunlight shining the path for you.

"Here." He handed you a bag and knocked on the door. It seems like the plaque fell off, you could see the screw holes, but you have no idea what number unit this is. The other doors don't seem kind enough to give you hints either.

You held the bag of vegetables in your arms as you watched Cyprus knock again, trying to get the attention of whoever was residing behind it.

Silence blanketed over him as you were made to wait for any further developments. You opened your mouth to say something, but your ear perked up at the sound of the door unlatching and unlocking. An unpleasant creak of the hinges, and then a surprised gasp reached your ears.

"Mi-" The voice, aged and feminine, stopped midway. You peered over the bag to see a woman in her fifties, her grey roots are showing as it seems she hasn't refreshed her black dye in a while. Like Cyprus, she too, wore glasses and had the same beautiful set of grey eyes. Her eyebrows were thin, charmingly drawn on and her lips were in a deep shade of red, but they were pulled downwards into a frown as she eyed you cautiously. Even taking a few steps back into her room, hiding behind the door.

"Mamá, tranquila." There was a sense of urgency in his voice as if he was trying to prevent a catastrophe from happening. But immediately after, he purred at you. "Ella es muy dulce." He gave you a sweet peck on the crown of your head. Cyprus rested an arm around your waist and brought you closer to his side.

Upon seeing her son's calmness and hearing his assurance, you saw the tension on her shoulders leave. But she's not convinced enough to fully come out of her hiding place. She stared at you unblinkingly, observing what you might do next. At this point, you felt embarrassed, feeling like a filthy, feral stray under her intense gaze.

You gave her an awkward, crooked smile and wave. Unsure if she could understand you if you spoke English. You also had half a mind to act insane, scaring his mother off so she would disprove your forced relationship with him. You assumed that the bag that Cyprus gave you earlier was meant to be for his mother, so you presented it to her. Which made her look amused with her focus darting between her son and you.

"Say 'Buenos Tardes, señora.'" You felt his breath on your ear as he whispered.

You did just that, butchering the pronunciation a bit but it's not too bad. Just enough for his mother to understand and be impressed by. You wonder if her standards for her son's partners are as low as Cyprus's.

"Buenos Tardes, Buenos Tardes. ¿Es eso para mí?" She gestured towards the bag in your extended arms.

"Sí, mama. Es un regalo por tú, Mi vida quería dar una buena primera impresión." He spoke up for you, affectionately stroking your hair as she took the bag off your hands. "Ella no sabía qué regalarte. Entonces sugerí comprar algunas verduras."

"¿Mi vida?" She appeared astonished at the apparent pet name he used for you. "Eso es nuevo. Ella debe ser muy especial para ti."

He laughed and nodded. "Sí, claro." Cyprus put the cooler down and went on to hug his mother as a delayed greeting. It was brief, they let each other go and brought their attention back to you.

Feeling the peer pressure crushing your bones, you mirrored what they did and hesitantly went in for an awkward hug. But it seems like she has warmed up to the idea of you, her arms wrapped around you comfortably.

"Entre, por favor." She stepped aside and opened her door wider. You assume that she's telling you and Cyprus to come in. You were about to step foot into her residence, but your boyfriend grabbed you by the arm before you could get any further.

"Take your shoes off, baby." He instructed as he took his own shoes off. You look at his mother and see that she's barefoot, there is a shoe rack inside that holds a few pairs of shoes and you assume that is where you're meant to put yours. So, you removed your footwear like how Cyprus told you to and it earned a nod of approval from his mother.

He picked your shoes up for you and coaxed you inside. You were about to whine that you could have done that yourself, but it's probably not worth the trouble. The quicker you finish this, the quicker you can leave.

You took a look around at her humble abode. It's not as bad as the outside, quite homely with the oddly luxurious items making their appearance here and there. But it is to be expected, as you remember how Cyprus described his mother as someone who prioritized looking expensive over her children's welfare. You were eyeing the leather massage chair in front of the flatscreen TV, wishing that you owned one.

"Good girl." He praised, kissing you on the temple. Cyprus then went on to put the two pairs of shoes on the rack. His mother is in the process of unloading the styrofoam cooler, bringing the meats to the kitchenette nearby; putting them away in the fridge.

"¿Quieres algo de tomar? ¿Té? ¿Cafe?" She asked, directing her gaze mainly to you.

"Una taza de té por ella, Mama. Ella no podrá dormir esta noche si toma café ahora." He took off his leather jacket and hung it on a coat stand nearby. The woman cocked her eyebrows at how much her son cared for you, it's something new and refreshing. She nodded and prepared three mugs on the counter.

You wish that you could have a say in your choice of drinks.

"¿Y tú, Mijo?" She filled the electric kettle up with tap water.

"No hay necesidad. Compartiré una taza con ella." He ended the line of conversation and turned towards you, cupping the sides of your face in his large, warm hands.

"You're doing so well." He crooned, gently squeezing your cheeks affectionately. "My mom likes you..." Cyprus nuzzled his nose against yours, feeling the cold frame of his glasses brush against your skin. "You make me so fucking happy, princess."

You tried to push him away, telling him that his mother was right there.

"Okay, and?" Your eyes quickly dart in her direction, seeing that she's still busy preparing two cups of tea.

You said that it's embarrassing and probably disrespectful to his mother. No one wants to see their son getting all sappy with someone else!

"She's fine." He brushed you off and pulled you into a hug, swaying you side to side. You felt judged when his mother glanced at you and a smirk, a damn smirk so reminiscent of her son's, began curling at the corners of her lips. So you firmly pushed him away, that did the trick but it was as if you gave him a soft nudge.

She brought the two mugs to the dining table, Cyprus lead you to the chairs and sat down on one of it. However, before you could park yourself onto a chair, Cyprus pulled you into his lap and kept you imprisoned there. His arms tangling around your form tightly, making it impossible to escape his hold without making a scene. So you let out a resigned sigh and sunk into him.

"Cuidado, hace calor." Said his mother as she picked her own cup up, blew on it, and allowed the steam to waft around her face. She used the metal spoon to mix the milk and sugar in the beverage.

"Lo sé, mamá." He picked the other cup up and blew on it. You were wondering if she had forgotten to make you a cup, or if Cyprus told her not to for some reason. It's such a shame, you were looking forward to it-

"Say aah." You were presented with a spoonful of cooled tea. And immediately, your face turned red as a tomato. Really? This level of humiliation in front of his own mother? You opened your mouth to say something unsavory, but Cyprus took the chance to feed you the drink.

It was delicious, no doubt. Enough to shut you up and seek more, but the cup was occupied by Cyprus; he was taking a sip out of it and probably burning his tongue with how hot the tea was.

This whole performance earned some laughter from his mother. You tried your best to hide your face from her, but in the end, Cyprus handed you the entire cup to drink. It's at an appropriate temperature for you to drink.

"Que niña tan Consentido, ¿Te gusta mimarla, Mijo?" You heard clinks coming from her spoon hitting the ceramic walls of her cup as she stirred.

"Sí. Muchisimo." Cyprus watched you with adoration as you drank sipped on the beverage.

Eventually, the mother-son duo started chatting in Spanish. You don't know if they're talking about you, or just catching up. You think it's most likely the latter because you've been with Cyprus 24/7 for a few months now. He has not visited his mother once, this is the first time in a while, you assume.

You're not stupid, though. There was a good chunk of the conversation where it's just talking about you, based on the glances she would give you and the mention of your name, and what you assume are Spanish pet names.

Either way, you felt ashamed. You felt inferior and belittled. You wish you could just go home and hide under the covers. But your home isn't even your home anymore, it's Cyprus's.

You decided to look around once more and drink in your surroundings, noting the lack of picture frames or any indication that his mother has children or a husband. There is a distinct detergent smell, nothing like you've ever smelt before and it's lovely. Cyprus washes his clothes with something similar, but the aroma isn't identical.

Cyprus picked the cup up and took a sip for himself. His eyes were trained on your bored face.

"Doll." He caught your attention and his mother's. Cyprus brought a thumb to your lower eyelid and tenderly tugged it down to check on your pink eye.

His mother seemingly asked him about what he was doing, to which Cyprus explained to her your situation. He then brought his attention back to you.

"Do you want to head home?" He asked.

You were about to say yes, but his mother's innocently wide eyes stared at you with a tinge of sadness.

"My mom is really enjoying having you here." He explained what that look potentially meant. "But if you're tired, we're going home. We can visit her another time."

She's enjoying you here? She's barely talking to you! And that language barrier is not making it any easier. You think that his mother is sad that her son is leaving so soon.

You told him that you could head back home by yourself, you know the way back and he should spend more time with his mother while he still can. Cyprus narrowed his eyes at you. "No way in hell am I letting you go alone."

You said you're fine. It's just a few blocks away.

"We're leaving." He lifted you off his lap. "Gracias por el té, mamá." Cyprus rose up to his full height, towering over you and his mother.

"I have extra pillows and blankets if you want to take a nap." You whipped your head towards the woman at lightspeeds, she could speak English fluently all this time?!

You looked back at Cyprus, he was crossing his arms over his chest and waiting for your response. He isn't shocked, annoyed, or amazed at this sudden switch, he's simply indifferent.

You turned back to his mother and asked why she didn't speak English from the beginning.

"I'll tell you if you stay for dinner." She smiled, speaking in a moderately heavy accent. Now you know where Cyprus gets his blackmailing traits from.

You looked back at Cyprus. He merely shrugged.

"Your call, Mi cielo." You asked him what that term meant.

"I'll also tell you that if you stay for dinner." Beamed his mother.

Cyprus smirked and chuckled, but didn't say anything else.

[dotthings]

Some tea from Richard Speight, Jr. about filming Cas’s testament scene has surfaced from DLC6. [x]

nothing cut from script to screen but they added things, such as Cas having to paint the sigil on the door and leaving the bloody hand print on Dean’s shoulder [my note: wbk about the additions during filming. There's still the matter of the spanish dub because the latam dubbing team felt a verbal I love you from Dean, made sense. And a few other lingering questions that have not actually been resolved and we may never know, but I'll go along. If Rich is happy with what was filmed and got to screen in the US, I'm glad. I love 15.18 either way. Rich's comments also goes to show how collaborative making tv is and how fluid the process can be.]

Rich said the scene wasn’t intended to be about Dean’s reciprocation, it was to give Cas his moment to speak his truth, to speak his love for Dean, and Cas didn’t expect an answer back, he just wanted to be heard, wanting Dean to know. [my note: makes sense to me, and it’s what I’ve thought about Cas pov. Cas pov not being the same as audience pov and what the story might need next and what Dean’s needs are. But for that scene, Cas feels complete. It also very much means the emotional story from Dean's side is not resolved. Dean wasn't given his chance yet, by creative design, perhaps because the only way they could get this greenlit at all is if it was only Cas who got to speak. We'll see what happens next.]

Rich saying because they did many takes of the scene with Dean’s emotional reactions, there are shots where Dean is crying more, or crying less. Editing put together different angles from different takes. [my note: the irony that naysayers are already trying to weaponize this to shut down the idea that anything got cut when per Rich himself, the facts on the ground are that the full range of Jensen’s acting for Dean’s response got reduced. No shade on Rich. But let's not erase or deny what was going on with Jensen's acting and how Jensen gave 110% and what wound up on screen was about 80% of whatever work Jensen did. Dean wept more than we saw, even before Dean was on the dungeon floor sobbing. Jensen’s performance as it stands is beautiful and powerful and full of emotion. It has taken an inordinate amount of hate and erasure, which is 100% cynical concern trolling to deny Dean’s feelings for Cas. More shots of Dean crying openly wouldn’t stop it, there’s no excuse for those responses. What’s there is loud enough. Only the most willfully cynical gaze could deny the love and anguish Dean showed.]

Rich said the parallel for John and Mary’s confession in TW 1x07 to 15x18 is a “coincidence” yet went on to talk about the trope of confessing love in a life or death situation and cited Leia and Han Solo among others [my note: it was also used again by an ep Rich recently directed in another piece of media I won’t say so I don’t spoil it. Also I’m laughing about how it seems he answered this. Total coincidence!! And spn 15.18 is like TW 1x07 is like Han and Leia and love confessions in dire situations is a common (romantic) trope. Pls, if anybody is taking away from this some kind of shutdown on creative recognition of the Destiel implications of it all, I don’t even want to know, I’ve had my fill of poor comprehension skills, poor critical thinking, and poor media literacy, oh my god]

Rich saying he was glad Cas’s words meant a lot to queer fans and that he feels it was important and a “bold” move that Bobo and Misha fought for. <3

So that's confirmation from director now, to add to writer intention, both actors, and an EP who greenlight Bobo's pitch for Cas’s testament as romantic. That is canon. That is a lock.

Cas's testament started out carefully padded into an “open to interpretation” zone. We have watched it be eased out of it and into the open.

I’m pleased it's openly acknowledged for what it is...and what I knew it was when the ep aired. I did expect it would be eventually, and would take some time. I’m glad it's here now.

As always, my appreciation for the work Rich, Bobo, Jensen, Misha did on 15.18 <333

[flower-boi16]

Forgot to add, but Stolas basically guilt tripped him into doing it.

"The one who wants me is my first ever friend..."

Blitz was perfectly willing to just leave Stolas there tied up, but instead gave him pity sex.

Yeah sure...Blitz was the one to make it all about sex. No Stolas....no....that was ALL YOU! The only thing Blitz did was do a little bit of flirting and steal the book, he didn't make it about sex. From beginning to end, that was all you.

People like to defend this kind of shit with "Oh it's intentional because it's meant to show Stolas lacking self-awarness!", which is very funny because 1. You are actively acknoweledging that Stolas' perspective here is invalid and Blitz's is which goes against the whole idea that both sides are suppoused to be in the wrong and 2. The show is not calling this shit out and every time Stolas says something like this (The final scene in Full Moon and the begining of Apology Tour) it's never called out nor is it ever frammed as that, and in Apology Tour specifically it is very obvious that we are specifically suppoused to take Stolas' side here and see Blitz as purely in the wrong.

I also do need to acknowledge that there are people who think that Blitz's feelings are portayed as valid by the narrative. They are not. The final scene in Full Moon and the begining of Apology Tour have Blitz rant about Stolas being a prince and considering that Oops established that this is a bias Blitz has towards Stolas it is very clear that these scenes are intended to be read as Blitz being blinded by his biases against Stolas due to Stolas being a prince, and he's too consumed in his biases to see that Stolas has real feelings for him. That is how these scenes are being frammed and clearly how they are suppoused to be read.

So no, the show doesn't see Blitz's perspective as valid. There is that rant in the begining of AT where Blitzo awkardly spells out his self-hatred keeping him from believing that a prince could possibily love him but the rest of the episode frames Stolas as someone hurt by Blitzo's actions and Blitzo as an asshole who hurts others. So his self-loathing isn't really something that the episode really wants you to sympathize with, only as another reason for why Blitz struggles to see that Stolas loves him.

Blitzo isn't a character that the show wants you sympathize with in this situation; the point of the episode is Blitz realizing that he isn't a good person and he needs to change. That's not a set up for a sympathetic character.

The show is directly outlining people information like this yet people still make bullshit excuses for Viv's writting based on some tweets. Blitz's perspective is never treated as valid by the narrative at all, sure, it acknowledges that Stolas was wrong for making this deal in the first place, but that gets rendered moot because that's not the reason for why Blitz hates Stolas; Blitz hates Stolas because of a bias he had against royals that completely came out of nowhere in season 2 solely so the show could make him purely look like an asshole consumed by his biases.

The narrative doesn't see Stolas SAing Blitz as the reason he hates Stolas, rather it sees Blitz's bias being a reason for that. It doesn't actually look at Blitz's perspective and how Stolas' actions may have affected him, hell it shows that it doesn't even affect him at all!

It's another instance of the show demonizing the people who Stolas has hurt so it could make them look unreasonable and further woobify Stolas. It's made even worse with the implication in Apology Tour of Blitz gaining feelings for Stolas and since Blitz really wanted to fuck Stolas it's not unreasonable to assume that the show may go in the route of "Blitz liked being SA'd by Stolas but he was just too comsumed by his biases to realize it!" because then you are fully painting Blitz as an biased asshole and any argument that the show understands his perspective gets thrown out the window.

Stolas' feelings are treated as valid by the narrative, how hurt he feels that Blitzy doesn't love him, that Blitzy doesn't see that Stolas loves him back, that Blitzy is "making him uncomfortable". Meanwhile, the narrative purely treats Blitz's feelings about Stolas as completely invalid, not using Stolas SAing him as an reason for Blitz hating him but rather him being too comsumed by his own biases.

There's a strong inbalance here that makes the argument that the show wants us to see them both as in the wrong completely fall apart. Blitzo is treated as the problem by the narrative and the fandom, that he's hurting poor Stolas' feelings with how he's treating the bird boy. And here's the thing; Blitzo having this bias came out of nowhere. There as no hint of this in season 1 or the first five episodes of season 2, it was only until Oops where this thing came up. This was never shown to be a character trait Blitz had nor is there even any reason for it, why Blitz has these preconcieved notions about Stolas going in. It's because the writters pulled this out of their ass so they could have an easy way to make Blitzo look like a complete asshole. Nothing more.

It's further accentuated by the show using "tell don't show" in that scene, where we are told that Stolas did all these nice things for Blitz rather than shown, and not to mention these nice things do not line up with Stolas' behavior at all in season 1. It's all just completely and utterly lazy. It's a lazy way to make Blitz in the wrong here. It's a lazy way to absolve Stolas of his behavior again so the narrative could coddle him.

It's a lazy way for the show to pretend this relationship has naunce when it doesn't. Oh, and fans have the fucking gall to say "you don't understand the nuances" when people critisize this shit. Oh, I'm sorry, what naunces? This relationship isn't nuanced in the slightest; it's a victim and abuser relationship where the victim is strawmanned and portayed as wrong and the abuser is coddled and woobifyed. Whether it was intentional or not, that is how the relationship comes across as.

The show needs to see that BOTH perspectives are valid for the "their both in the wrong" thing to even work, but it doesn't. Blitz never gets any slack and Stolas is babyed. That is how this relationship is frammed. You can not ever convince me otherwise.

[liveinfarbe]

Quoting myself pre episode 8 here:

But who knows maybe show runners are gaslighting viewers here and he’ll be killed off just like that next episode Mirdania-style (hoping against hope she survived). But Sam Hazeldine’s interviews sound like he’ll be in it for a bit longer. Good🤞

Whatever you hope they do it’s not going to be innovative, but the road most traveled.

Sam’s interviews sounded like that because he had integrated into the cast so well and would’ve liked to stay.

If you ask me it was a capital mistake. Adar outshone all other characters in season 2. But the course was set. Simon Tolkien apparently intervened to keep him longer. I suppose because he saw his incredible potential. And yet they offed their outstanding original character, carelessly, unsympathetically. It sucked big time because it left most fans struggling emotionally. I did not need that.

I’m venting…

Yeah, it mirrored the first episode, a thematic frame, cool visuals, full circle blah blah - a clichéd way of doing this to establish symmetry and a means to get rid of him fast and visually pleasurable and still make it look oh so meaningful.

There could’ve been another outcome of course. Adar wasn’t alike Sauron, he was not a monster. Adar was superior in heart and mind, a large part of him untainted from dark poison.

He should have had a better end because this show is all about symbolic messages and this one sends a message that he was not deserving, although he had suffered the most of all characters and was truly repenting - he apparently deserved something far worse.

Ironically it wasn’t even an end to Sauron what Adar did to him in the beginning. Sauron was goo for a thousand years then quickly bounced back eating worms and people and is fine now. Adar though looks terminally dead. He’s gone. Can you imagine he resurrects in a cheesy painting like Galadriel? He’s the vaguely queer coded villain, he’ll stay buried (you wish he was buried), it’s the law.

And shouldn’t have Sauron ended him, if it was meant to be symmetrical, shouldn’t there have been a fight?

Shouldn’t there have been a fight with Arondir?

Shouldn’t Galadriel have at least voiced her disapproval of the murder? I’ll give it to her that Adar’s death gave her the wrath to withstand Sauron finally. She fought him with anger in her heart, totally over him, but not over her twin flame Adar.

What happened to Adar was worse than what happened to Sauron. Adar was betrayed of his final hope to get better, betrayed by his children whom he loved and thought loved him back, knowing his aim to prevent enslavement for them has been futile. You can shoehorn a symmetry with Sauron’s situation in the beginning but it substantially isn’t. Adar’s actions always came from a place of love, care and solidarity, of accountability.

It should’ve been Sauron dealing him the final blow, not Glûg. It was never shown why Glûg would suddenly want to murder him brutally and in cold blood. It was just for shock value and done with the intention to show how irredeemable Uruk truly are, even the most humanized ones. As if Adar was delusional about them deserving dignity. Probably the story needs them to be bad again, after all the Third Age hasn’t improved concerning the othering of Orcs. One dilemma less for the show, it seems…

He may be in Valinor now, perhaps, who knows with these writers… The thing is, I don’t care because I won’t see it on screen.

Nothing will come of anything Adar has done and fought for, he is erased from the narrative and I hate it.

It lowers expectations for season 3 and, not gonna lie, I kinda resent the show for doing that.

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Hey headmage! You know that one question all teachers will get in their life...

Tell us about your first love!

*eager looking eyes*

I wrote this one in a somewhat vague manner aka it's to throw a bone at the "Crowley is Malleus's dad" theorists out there www; it's up to the reader to interpret it as they please; it isn’t meant to refer to one specific character.

Enter; An Unkindness of Ravens.

Crowley regarded you with a careful, uncharacteristically patient look—as if picking apart your soul and the fine layers that sheathed it. You were an open book, so wide-eyed and eager to learn of young, blossoming love.

“Feeling daring today, are we?” he chuckled lowly. “What naughty students I have, sticking their noses where they don't belong."

Crowley swung one leg over the other, crossing them as he reclined into his armchair. "As it happens, I am feeling more generous than usual today, so I will humor your request."

Your ears perked. You arched over his desk, primed to listen intently.

"Once upon a time, in a land far, far away... I found myself at a grand palace hosting a ball. Where, you may ask? I cannot say. However, it is only natural for important people in high places, such as myself, to be invited to these sorts of functions.

“Often it is political matters and power struggles at play—dull subjects to children, I'm sure. I happened to take an interest in the cuisine they were serving that evening, and so I made an appearance."

Crowley paused dramatically.

"Little did I know, that was where I would happen upon... Well, surely you understand who I am referring to?"

“Your first love?” you squeaked.

“I noticed them immediately. Call it ‘love at first sight’ if you wish.

“Their presence was far too powerful to be contained within that room. It was a quiet kind of strength, like the roiling of thunder before a storm arrives in full. Oh, but it wasn’t just their aura alone. No, no, they also boasted great beauty, grace, and intelligence!! And yet…”

“And yet…?”

“They were alone.” Crowley spoke the word quietly, as though it were cursed. “… I suppose it happens. People who stand too high in the world are lonely there, frightening off those unworthy to be in their presence. I understood, of course, being in a similar position myself, so I sought to offer my kind hand to console them. It is in my nature as an educator to serve as a bridge between people."

“You made the first move,” you gasped, your cheeks warming. Scandalous.

“I paraded right up and introduced myself! And—can you believe this—they gave me the cold shoulder, then attempted to scare me and shoo me off!! But I certainly didn’t quit. I fetched them punch, I sang them sweet serenades, I cracked jokes of the highest caliber… all so that they would look my way, even to spare a passing glance.”

“So you were a simp.” Somehow, it fit perfectly with your current understanding of Crowley.

He bristled at the casual accusation. "I wouldn't say that--"

"Definitely a simp," you repeated.

"Y-You may think whatever you like, but the fact is that my efforts eventually bore fruit!!" Crowley declared proudly, his chest puffed out. "They gazed at me and remarked that I was ' a strange one'!"

"That doesn't exactly sound like a compliment..."

"Perhaps not," he laughed lightly, "but it was that one comment that served as my foot in the door. Before long, we were chatting like old friends. They smiled--because of me. For me."

His voice warbled, wobbling with sentiment as the painted the scene. You could almost see it now: Crowley, tall, dark, handsome--but bumbling--courting a frigid noble. Breaking their barrier, melting that ice.

Like something out of a fairy tale, you think. A distant royal falling in love with their messenger bird.

"We laughed and talked all evening. We shared food and a dance. We never wanted the clock to strike midnight."

Crowley sighed wistfully, dragging a talon across his desk—as if marking another year apart from his beloved. "They truly were… the apple of my eye, my flower of evil."

"Did they return your feelings, headmaster?" you asked, leaning closer. Completely enraptured by his tale. “Whatever happened to them, anyway…?"

“Ah, now that,” Crowley tutted, wagging a finger, “is a story I shall keep to myself.”

“W-Wait," you protested, slapping a hand on the desk, "you’re really going to leave me off on a cliffhanger like this?! You were just getting to the juiciest part!"

“I believe I’ve already divulged far more than the average student needs to know of a teacher's love life," the headmaster replied. "You may use your imagination to fill in the rest of the gaps! It shouldn't be a challenge, seeing as you are quite familiar with my charm, fufufu."

"Does that mean you did get together after all? Were you actually married this whole time and we never knew? Do you have kids?!" you pressed. Each question became increasingly conspiratorial--but you were 100% serious, 100% committed to the bid.

"I'm afraid not, Prefect! You must make do with what you currently have."

"What I have isn’t enough," you groaned deeply. "Urgh, PLEASE answer me, headmaster...! I need to know, or I'll combust!"

[city-tickles]

You should know the scene from The Boys in context of the show is actually really gross and paints the kink scene in a really bad light.

That scene is yet another in a list of traumatic experiences for that character who had no intention of doing anything sexual and did not have a safeword, and it is ultimately an instance of sexual assault if you watch the full episode. Also the character who brought him into his sex dungeon is a literal fascist who makes money off of slave labor in the U.S. prison system.

In a realistic kink setting, even with the suit, the Dom/Domme should recognize when someone is genuinely uncomfortable and ask “do you want this to stop” just in case the sub gets non-verbal or has some mental situation that keeps them from remembering an agreed upon safeword.

If that truly non-con scenario gets you horny then ok for you personally, but be aware the people doubling down to defend this scene to vanilla viewers are NOT helping the optics of the community because it makes us look like we don’t understand how to communicate consent when we actually have clear rules and scenes like this in mainstream media need to be THOROUGHLY DENOUNCED by us.

Hi!

There’s a lot here, so let’s start with this. Your frustration and disappointment about the scene is completely justified.

For me, I think it’s a really shocking, long and good tickling scene. And by that, I mean the setup, the tickles, the laughter, etc. Taking all morality out of it, if I was watching the tickling part in a video I’d be into it.

In a realistic setting, this would be disgusting. It is not something I would even think about doing to someone non-consensually in real life. But to play devil’s advocate, if you are someone who watches clips, 99% of them in a realistic setting are bad. There’s a difference between an adult film and an adult show, but if you throw realism into any of it, it’s not a positive light. Imagine going to your doctor’s office and actually being strapped down and tickled? It would be a terrible thing to happen.

In the world of the show, the characters in the scene minus the lee are horrible. They’re meant to be horrible and the lee, for the most part, they believe he is consenting to this, since he’s pretending to be a very kinky guy. These characters don’t have the morality to realize or care that he actually wants to stop. And when they do realize it, things get much worse.

After everything that happened in the show to this character, it’s another kick him while he’s down moment. A bizarre breaking point for a character who is going through a lot. As for the fascist, without spoiling it too much, he doesn’t get away without consequence and the ler continues to suck as a person so there’s no celebrating of them either.

For me, I can watch this scene for what it is because it’s a show. And it’s that type of show. I don’t expect a tickling or kink scene from The Boys to be handled with grace. I don’t expect most TV shows to do that, even Bonding, which was supposed to be a positive spotlight on the kink community. It’s not gonna think about realism. It’s played for laughs. Whether people actually found it funny, is up for debate. From what I’ve seen, a lot of people didn’t and I get why. But I also get why on paper, the other thing he had to do and the tickling could be seen as funny/gross out humor.

Me personally, I haven’t seen kink people doubling down to defend this scene. I don’t doubt that they have, but the only thing I’ve seen are Boys fans double down but they meant the scene in general and not the kink community. If that is going on, they shouldn’t do that. People have a right to feel how they feel about the scene.

As for what it does for the community, it doesn’t help, and this may not be the best attitude by me towards it, but I’m used to it. There’s a small list of scenes in mainstream media that help bring kink and especially tickling into a positive light. It’s your usual “freaky stuff is funny” trope. It’ll go into a long list of mainstream things that will bother us but will be forgotten quickly over time by vanilla people. Should there be more positive depictions of kink in mainstream media? Yes. But The Boys wasn’t the first and they won’t be the last.

Please feel free to denounce it all you’d like. You have every right to. Thank you for sharing and expressing how you feel about the scene.

[crispycreambacon]

You fill your head with thoughts you find you can't even feel

Try to make room in your skull, but it’s full of them

All of the things that you think and then think about thinking

I know it’s hard, but they're not who you are

They're white noise

— White Noise, Will Wood —

Welcome one and all to "Mashing Two Interests Like Playdough", the first episode is Puppet History x Will Wood, specifically the Substitute x White Noise 'cause holy moly. It fits him so well. Omg.

I had so much fun creating this poster! I'm really proud of how the poses and the rendering turned out even though both gave me a rough time at first </3 I actually had an earlier version of this poster, but I scrapped it because it wasn't doing it for me ngl :,D I'm glad I did though!

Anyways if you'd like to know more about why I think this song fits the Substitute, you can read my interpretation of the lyrics and how they can relate to him below the "Read More" button. You can also find the glitchless + filterless version of the poster there.

Note: A lot of this is speculation on my part, and you don't need to conform to this reading. This is just how I perceive him.

They paint the walls with colors that you're not meant to notice

They fill the halls with tunes you can't get into your head

Let's establish the obvious: The Substitute can't feel. The extent of his unfeelingness is unknown, but what is known is that he can't taste and can't have the sensation of touch. This may lead to him being isolated due to his inability to relate to experiences both humans and his fellow puppets seem to have, particularly the experiences of the one he is based on.

Yeah, it sorta sounds like a retro top-40 but wrong

You're not meant to sing along

It isn't that kind of song

It's white noise

Despite his unfeelingness, he still wants to have the experiences others have. After all, he literally almost killed someone just to have that chance, but his plan is not entirely well-thoughout. How was he going to dispose Ryan's body without getting caught? How was he going to sew the skin onto himself and dispose the rest of it? What was he going to do after he finally what he asked for?

In a way, he was doomed to fail. He was never meant to gain sentience anyway, let alone have the desire to feel like his counterpart. His existence is a complete accident. Now he has to deal with the consequences of actions he never even had a hand in doing.

But if you listen closely I swear, to God I swear

You can hear the ocean if you hold it up to your ear

This lyric directly inspired the pose of the Substitute listening to the conch shell. He has memories of some of the most wonderful sensations on Earth yet he can't connect with any of them. Perhaps when no one was looking, he tries to recreate some of them in a desperate attempt to find a scrap of semblance of feeling and gets increasingly frustrated with his inability to understand them.

Is it any wonder that he would do anything to regain that scrap of enjoyment? To end his torturous experience by any means necessary?

Its personality's a lack of identity

The entire second verse in general speaks about the meaningless of art and how people try to give it meaning anyway. The Substitute's only purpose was to replace the Professor either to console a dead mass or to continue the show. Now that the Professor is back... What can he do?

Moreover, he's also never allowed to have an identity of his own. Since he's meant to be a perfect copy of someone else, especially someone who's presumed to be dead, he can never really deviate from that role because it would break the illusion the puppets created to cope with their grief. No matter what his desires are, he can never really explore any of them because no one is allowing him to do so.

Also, the way the orchestra swells during this part kinda calls back to theatrical music for me. I feel like the Substitute would enjoy performace arts. His bombastic musical number implies he had a flair for the dramatics, and despite his lack of feeling, his expression of his ambitions is quite dramatic.

You fill your head with thoughts you find you can't even feel

This can relate to how the Subtitute is forced to relive the memories of the Professor despite not being able to experience the emotions connected with them. In a way, he has to so that he could remind himself of his motivations. Remembering the joy the Professor got through feeling would keep him going on this path in the hopes that some day, he could feel that joy too.

I know it's hard

But they're not who you are

They're white noise

This line can be taken in two ways. One is based on the speculated official meaning of the outro which is centered on intrusive thoughts. No doubt the Substitute deals with homicidal thoughts, but I wonder if he truly believes in them. Does he genuinely enjoy indulge in them, or does he act on them because it's all that he knows? For all the talk about him having the Professor's memories, at the end of the day, he was crudely coded for one simple purpose. His thoughts are very simplistic—as seen with how quickly he jumps to murder as the most logical solution for his problem—and I wonder if he was given a chance to grow beyond his purpose, he could've reliazed that homocide was not the right course of action.

The other way, which is likely more relevant, relates back to the Substitute being intrinsically tied to the Professor. His thoughts, his memories and his actions are all in a way influenced by the Professor. But it didn't have to be this way. As unlikely as it is, he could've had a life where he discovered his own interests and his own personality outside of being "the evil Professor". If he had gotten to learn more about the world on his own, if he had been able to act not as the Professor but as himself, he would've been able to develop more and find that joy he was missing. He could've had a life.

Unfortunately, he was never given that chance, and it is unlikely that he ever will be.

[denofbloodandlove]

Part two of Arayas story.  Again this is a new style and thought process for me, there may be mistakes or may seem disjointed.  But I hope you enjoy, this is not a subject meant for everyone.

Araya whimpered in pain as she tried to move, but every part of her was sore, well almost every part. The Royalty had yet to move her from her position, she was still on the cold slab table, her arms outstretched, her legs still bent at a deep angle.  Split open, her cunt still on view.  The King was the only one that had fucked her in her pussy, as of yet.  But his words still whispered in her ears.  As soon as the egg in her belly came out, they would impregnate her again.  Her throat was swollen and raw, after The King had fucked her, he rammed his still hard cock down her throat right after the first Prince did.  His cum had grown cold and sticky on her pale skin.  But she wanted more.  She wanted her body painted with it, covered in it, showing the stars who owned her.  They were right, their bloodlines spoke to one another.   Araya understood now why, when living on Earth she was never hungry, never thirsted.  Never wanted.

Because Earth and the beings there had nothing to give her.  

Here, in this place, in the stars, these males gave her substance.  Gave her their seed, their eggs, they gave her sustenance.  Their cocks were all she needed to survive, she felt it in the marrow of her bones.  She lost track of time as the three brothers took turns fucking her throat, each one thicker and bigger as they went round after round with her mouth.  Their cocks devoured and claimed, laying waste to the sensitive flesh.  All the while making sure they steered clear of her cunt, and because this was her first brood, they wanted to make sure it took before they took her ass.  But they would soon, they had promised her.  And she waited in anticipation, knowing it would come.  Each one had had her throat multiple times, sometimes pushing their cum straight into her stomach, their eggs sliding in, getting lodged in her throat before being deposited into her stomach.  She was stretched so full, three useless eggs in her stomach, one in her womb growing larger and faster every minute. Their combined cum filled her to the brink, adding to her engorgement, but she wanted more.  She knew her body could take more.  After the second round, instead of cumming in her, they all marked her skin, coating her flesh with the sticky, thick ropes that poured from their cocks. It wasn’t spurts like she knew human men did, theirs was like thick water running it long torrents.  Pumping constantly, then following the egg, the egg was smaller then an Earth ostriches egg.  She had gotten to watch is the tip of their cocks opened, their slits bigger, wider, opened and spurted out the egg.  The silver membrane was clear, blue and black veins raced along the outside like lightening. And inside she could see a thing wiggling.  Similar to a tadpole, a thick head wiggled followed by a long thick tail that flicked back and forth within the membrane.  As they emerged from their cocks she gasped, wanting them to shove them in her pussy so they would survive.  

“Shh Princess.  They ones outside your cunt don’t last in the air, they need your innards, your sweet tunnel, your womb directly in order to thrive.  Without our cocks shoving them past your pussy, past your cervix they wouldn’t last.  That is why our cocks are pointed, to tear into your cervix and deposit them directly into your belly.  Watch”

Looking down her chest where a fresh egg lay, it withered in seconds, the air turning it into a gelatinous ooze that mixed with the thick cum.  

“Rest now, the egg in your belly will be ready soon.  Your body will feed it with the eggs in your stomach, soon you’ll be ready for more.”

What she now referred to as her Royals, she watched as they removed her shackles, allowing her limbs to move, they helped her sit slightly, and she looked in awe at her belly.  It was three times its normal size, the upper part, where her stomach was, where the three useless eggs sat, she watched as it went down, inch by inch, but her lower belly expanded, a if the egg inside of her was sucking the juices from her stomach to grow. She watched as her belly undulated rippled and moved, she felt the egg in her shift, and then expand, as if it was trying to break out of her skin.   For the first time she felt….. scared.

“Its just breaking the membrane Princess, growing out of the original shell.  You are strong and we are virile.  You will make a good breeder for us.  Come, we are ready. Get off the table and walk to your cocks.  Take in more so the brood can feed.”

Swinging her legs over the table, she moved her belly first, her wobbly feet placed flat as she stood, then with strong steps she made her way to her King and the Third Prince.  Her King had had her cunt first, her throat second, and as he sat, his cock straining upward, she new he would have her ass first too. The Kings finger rose and twirled indicating for her to turn her naked body around.  Obeying his command, she stared into the stomach of the second Prince. His taloned hands gripped her roughly under her arms and lifted her easily.  “Put your legs on my shoulders and keep them there, I am not taking you, yet.  But they will, I will be your strength.” The second says as I move my legs as he commanded, my belly shifting to accommodate my new position.  “Remember your body was made for us, it will accommodate, trust in your King and Princes to give you what you need.”  

The Second lifts me up and ontop the Kings engorged cock, but not at my pussy, the tight, virgin bundle of muscles of my ass. The hard sharp tip slides in easily at first, then stops, the muscles too tight to allow such a huge cock to entrance.  “Trust us Princess” The Second says before he pushes me down hard, impaling the Kings cock straight through my ass and into my intestine.  My scream echoes through the stars, but is cut off by the Third, his body, because they are so much larger, his legs are braced on the furniture, straddling the King, his ass facing the Second, as her mouth opens on the scream, he shoves his cock into her throat shutting her up.  She gags instantly, her body expanding, her swollen belly moving so it could give the two girths inside of her room.  But she felt pulled tight, her skin too tight, her ass was being split, she could feel The Kings cock sliding in her guts, moving further up, filling her as the cock from the top reached down, tunneling down.  Her brain was pain and endorphins.  The thick ridges pulling and pulling.  And the thing in her womb squirming, being pushed not out but to the side as the two cocks fight for space in her too tiny body.  Her screams sound gurgled as The Princes cock dig deeper, until his whole cock is nestled deep to the hilt.  The King stills too, his balls tight against her ass.  She was pinned straight, their cocks touching inside of her.  

Each head had fought its way through her flesh to come in the middle, one in her stomach the other under it.  She could feel their pre cum gush like a fount. The Second Prince however, holding her as he was, slide his snake like tongue under the cock in her ass and through it, making her body suddenly tighten and clench.  Her body came in a waterfall off juice, coating them , her mouth suddenly over salivated, her cunt cumming over the Kings cock, her ass tightening, and as her body whetted them, they began in tandem fucking her, the one in her mouth pulled out while the one in her ass stayed.  When her throat was plunged into, her ass would empty.  Her flesh would protrude and empty in opposite rhythms, but that tongue stayed, flicked and licked at the muscles, keeping her body well lubricated, a constant never-ending orgasm over her body.  The brood in her belly felt the excitement and flipped, moved, pushed, fought for more, as if it knew its mother was getting fed. Suddenly a warm gush flowed from her mouth, the Princes ravaged thrust became clipped, his balls spasming against her chin as he began to come in her throat.  Each thick pump she felt move through her throat, down his cock and straight into her belly, and because their bloodline, their bodies linked The Kings cock did the same.  It felt thicker in her ass, her intestine milking his cock, each thick load moving on its own, upward, and downward, and like before her holes were sealed shut, so no drops escaped. She felt both their cocks flutter, their heads widening to deposit their eggs within her.  The tongue in her ass slithered out, licked along her back and then withdrew.  Their cocks stilled but instead of moving they rested inside of her.  Her body gagged and fought to breath, but they refused to give her air, The Prince waited until the last very bliss filled second before he pulled from her throat. Gasping for air The King moved again. And with an audible squelch lifted her off his cock.  Cum leaked from her mouth and ass, but she didn’t care, her hand rested on her belly, distended, and now bruised as the thing in her had grown.

“Soon Princess it will be out, and replaced by another, those two eggs in your body should feed it enough, give it the strength it needs to slide from her body.  Soon.  For now rest. Rest until we come back for another round.  You did so well with three eggs, this time you will take six. Our first Brood will be King of Kings strong on the wasted eggs we implant. Rest.”

[larcenywrites]

You wrote daddy stark content but I'm craving more 🫠 how about a hcs with daddy stark being absolutely in love with his wife's big belly, kissing and all that cute things, and then absolutely in love with his baby boy (yes, he's a boy daddy, change my mind), cuddling him and talking with that cute voice, basically cute and cuddly husband and daddy stark 🥹🥹🥹

I thought you meant daddy as in, ya know, Daddy, at first 🤧 But I’m still on board 🙌 He deserves to have more family content ❤ And yes on this blog he has two sons and I won’t be taking criticism💅

More Pregnancy/Family Headcanons ❤️

Warnings: no specific genders/pronouns used for reader | some mild pregnancy references in the beginning

💠He was already excited, but once you start showing, and when it's suddenly rolling and kicking -he's rolling and kicking- in there, he's practically glued to your side for a while! He's already so in love with his son, and it's obvious he can't wait any longer because most nights he's curled up next to your tummy before bed, or buried in your chest with a hand trying to feel those kicks that he usually catches too late 🥺

💠Aaaaand when you start showing, he goes full on into every mode you can think of! Dad Mode, Protective Mode, Overly Affectionate Mode, you name it.

💠It just suddenly feels more real and sudden, and he's realizing that maybe this house isn't the best place for his baby. It wasn't necessarily designed with a family in mind, after all 😅 But with the help of JARVIS, he can figure out a few ways to baby-proof this place a little better! But then even he's fumbling to practice unlocking those baby-proof locks, and after testing out a few child locks on JARVIS and his answers, he might accidentally get himself kicked out of admin privileges and still runs into a few issues where he can't get a question answered or a query run because it's considered "dangerous" 😭 It's not technically perfect, but he'll settle for Stark proof! Surely if he can't get into it, neither could his kid, right?

💠 You're pretty sure he's more excited than you to work on the nursery! He's just excited to be involved in something he never thought he would be! And just wants to go above and beyond before baby is even born 🥺 and make sure he'll already have the best of everything!

💠 You'll probably end up in very silly arguments, and honestly let Tony just have his way for this one. He did design this house, so surely he can do a decent job on the room! He's having a crisis on step one: the color scheme 😔 He wants a more "gender neutral" color, but there are too many shades of yellows and greens! You'll have to help him out, and calm him down… a newborn is not going to be picky about whether his room is mint green or vanilla yellow 🤧

💠 He's very proud when he gets it painted and hangs some pretty white curtains over the window! "What do you think?" He asks very excitedly, resting his hands on either side of your belly and kissing the top of your head. It's still empty other than a white wooden crib that hasn't been put together yet, its pieces scattered in the corner, but it's coming together. "It's cute." You smile back at him, sliding your hands up and down his forearms encouragingly. He leans in for a quick kiss before looking down. "What do you think, junior?" You giggle when he bends down to kiss your stomach, pressing a cheek to you and waiting a few moments as if listening. He hums in thought and looks around. "The ceiling needs something cute."

💠You try to help him out, but he might be a little overbearing. You find some cute dragonfly string lights, trying to hang them up while he surprisingly struggles with the crib. But he's probably struggling because he's too busy keeping an eye on you on that ladder, but he doesn't want to kick you out either because you're having fun decorating too :(

💠Honestly anything you do gives him half a heart attack! You're pregnant, not dying 🙄 though it may feel like you are sometimes If you need any help, he's there! And if you don't, he's still there! Depending on what it is, he might just do it for you and convince you to rest, especially the further along you get. It doesn't matter how much you protest, but hands cupping your cheeks and a few forehead kisses oughta calm you down! And if it doesn't, he'll give your lips a nice long smooch next. Can't be so huffy when you're out of breath, after all 😌 And he can be pretty convincing 😉

💠If you're going out, so is he! If he's not around, someone's going with you. He's always been a little overprotective, but now you're very pregnant and also kinda, ya know, married to Iron Man, so you can probably see where all of that protectiveness comes from

💠But don't worry! When you do go out, he's not some paranoid bodyguard constantly on the lookout. He is always on the lookout for more stuff to put in the nursery, though! You might have to stop him from getting yet another stuffed animal to clutter the little wardrobe with, but you can stop him from getting that cute little outfit he spotted!

💠And speaking of not being around, he hates being gone! For a number of reasons. But once he's home, he's all over you. Your tummy always gets kisses right after you, but eventually you'll become second in line for kisses, sorry 😇 You both get goodnight and good morning kisses, and sometimes he'll talk all about the mission he just went on as if reciting an epic tale, and it won't ever fail to make you laugh. He's working on his bedtime story skills, okay!

💠Your usual cuddle positions might have to get a little rearranged for a while, especially towards the end, but as long as he can keep a hand on your belly and have easy kissing access to your cheek or your hair he's fine! It's harder for you to get comfortable than for him, and harder to snuggle into his chest like you probably used to :/

💠And by the time you get around 32 weeks, he's making it very loud and clear that he should only be called in an emergency, especially if you've already gotten a due date. And to please try and leave him alone for at least a few weeks afterward 😪

💠And once he is born, Tony hardly lets him out of his sight (and his arms). The two were already the best of friends even when he was kicking his father from the womb, but they're pretty inseparable!

💠You all definitely get into a schedule. You take certain shifts, and Tony takes certain shifts. Tony takes any of the late nights and early mornings. He's probably already awake anyway, and he wakes up pretty quickly too, so he doesn't mind!

💠Well, he says he doesn't mind, but he's always pretty exhausted. You'll often find them both asleep by the time you wake up. Your son is always bundled up in one of the many blankets around here and peacefully curled on his father's chest. If you can't find them, they're likely in the lab! Until he starts to reach out to touch things and starts crawling around, that is… He hates to kick out his lab buddy, but this isn't exactly the safest area for a baby to be wandering around 😞

💠Sometimes he'll find the two of you asleep, too (or maybe you're just resting your eyes- you didn't fall asleep, really!) , and it's definitely one of his favorite things to see ❤️ If you're on the sofa or maybe even in bed, he's 100% just snuggling into you too! He's wrapping an arm over yours and giving both of you a little kiss before nosing into your neck. He's probably also falling asleep, especially if he's just come home. And now you have two babies 😇 If you're in the recliner in the nursery, he'll carefully give you both a kiss and take baby from you to put to bed. And then he has to wake you up to get you to bed... but surely he can make up for it, though😌😉

💠 He'll love it just as much if you curl up with them, too! Though, sometimes he'll get a little cramped, but he doesn't want to disturb either of you :( You're both too cute for him to move you aside 🥰

💠They also blow kisses to each other before Tony leaves 🥺 And if you're holding him when he comes in for a hug, he'll try to grab at dad's shirt or neck to be held. Tony will always hold him for a minute or two, but he can only stick around for a few more cheek kisses before he has to go :( You all hate when he leaves, and it's hard on you all. Your son knows dad put him into his crib at night, and is always the one getting him up in the morning.

💠But as soon as Tony is home, the house is always full of cooing and laughter from both of them. You're pretty sure Tony tells the best jokes in baby talk, but too bad neither of you understands it! His dad is always messing with him, too, but at least he thinks it's funny! Tony is always bouncing those tiny feet and blowing raspberries. When he starts to reach out to touch dad's face, Tony very sweetly kisses the hand trying to grab his nose and poke his cheeks. Until he starts poking him in the eye 😪 and your son thinks it's hilarious when he replies with an ow and starts shaking his little arm

💠Just as you always gave Tony a heart attack while pregnant, he's probably going to give you a heart attack with your baby. As soon as he can hold his head up, Tony is out there with him in the pool! Holding him of course, but he will literally be throwing him in the air and catching him 😰 They're both having a great time, at least! But you might not be 🤧 And when he's still really small, Tony will just carry him around in the crook of one arm, and will even continue to work, and bend, and walk- even in public. It probably looks like he's being a bit careless, but he's really not! And besides, you know from experience how comfortable and secure those strong arms can be 😌

💠And do we even need to mention the lab? You'll have plenty reason to be wary of it, but sometimes Tony likes to have company down there. When he's not blowing stuff up, of course! Plus, he's always busy, and might not get as much time with him as you usually do, so how could you say no? Tony is actually pretty responsible! You can trust him not to get into anything too flammable! Not around the baby, at least...

💠Tony spoils the hell out of him without meaning too. Tony might be able to rock him pretty often and bounce him on his leg, but when Tony is gone, you don't tend to have that luxury. Putting him back into his bouncers can be a nightmare, but keeping him swaddled to your chest or back will satiate him if you can get by! Don't worry: it doesn't work out in Tony's favor, either. Sometimes he's busy, but he can't help but bend to his son's will and keep him in his arms. He can't stand the crying anyway, and he may also need him quiet while he's on a pretty important phone call 😅 Sometimes he can hand him off to you, but sometimes you're busy or gone! He'll struggle with properly doing it at first, but he'll pick up on what you do: swaddle him in a blanket and tie it around your chest and/or back. Baby is secured and happy! And it leaves your hands free to keep working. It's probably a little funny to see him walking around the lab with his son on his back, but it works! It also seems to help put him to sleep, at least 😮‍💨

💠When he really starts to babble more, you'll probably be wondering who tf Tony is talking to. He'll just straight up talk to his infant son like an adult, but he does answer, to be fair. You'll hear him in the kitchen talking about air fryers and agreeing with that nonsensical babbling (our son says we need an air fryer, btw), or he might be complaining about a character in a show and he'll act just as outraged 😂 He'll even mimic the hand motions! It's quite adorable, and there will be no doubt about which mini-me he is 🥰

[maxphilippa]

Microphone ii

Favorite thing about her: WHERE DO I EVEN BEGIN WITH. Oh my God she's like the best arc developed on season 2 and she is so consistent with everything and so so full of love and so complex and. I really just like the way she's written and how much respect they had for her once she was out on her own terms. Her design is one of my favorite things ever too, it's quite simple but so SO good and shaped, her main color being purple, her abilities, her love for others, how she doesn't want to hurt anybody. I just like everything about her. How she as a person isn't flawless but is still full of love. How even if she has a gokden heart she can still stand up for herself and hold grudges. She's just. So important to me.

Least favorite thing about her: I have a lot to say when the things I don't like about her are her alliance with Taco (not because it's bad for the story, again, Mic's arc is beautifully written, but because Taco sucks and I can feel Mic on a emotional level) AND the what the Fanon did to her. They treated her so SO badly.

Favorite line: "So now, I'm making my first good choice."

brOTP: oj, trophy, nickel, soap, cheesy, fan, tissues- basically almost everyone at the hotel

OTP: microknife, micropick, micro4

nOTP: ... taco...

Random headcanon: Painting became a sort of therapy for her at some point post s2. She used to do it a lot when she was a kid, but now she's just getting back at it. However, she doesn't attend Paintbrush's classes because 1: she can't focus with many people and 2: she's more of painting landscapes or recreating photos. it really helps her with thinking. as well, even if she's somewhat decent at cooking, she's GREAT at baking. definitely one of her hobbies.

Unpopular opinion: SHE'S INSANELY BISEXUAL SHE LIKES MEN AND WOMEN 💥💥💥 but also, she's one of the characters that suffers the worst treatment on the way the fandom treats her, and usually misses the whole point with the toxic friendship he had with Taco.

No, Mic would never forgive Taco. Yes, she meant it when she said the thing about Pickle. Their thing is a really good example of an harmful relationship. As well, Knife and her being best friends instead of siblings is WAY better if you don't want the romance (even IF justin has stated on may 1st of 2023 that they're okay with others shipping them now, on twitter), and Knife's and Mic's arc is just very very underrated and like. Why. They're so important to eachother. Did you know that in A Song For Microphone, On Knife's Edge appears there for a segment? Their arcs are entwined and yet they're just pushed aside.

Also I just really don't like it when people mischaracterize her for ships or only remember she's there for ships.

Song I associate with her: Missing Hell, Hermit The Frog (Marina), HANSEL (Sodikken), Copacabana, Ancient Aliens, and Curses.

My favorite pic of her:

[gojoswhitebabydolllashes]

Goodbye, my beloved bride.

- Rafayel (love and deepspace) x oc? Sorta

Warnings: sad. Sad. Sad mermaid man stuff. Eternal suffering.

-

I'm not supposed to talk about it.

I promised I wouldn't.

So instead I'm sharing it with this piece of paper in my hand.

When Rafayel left, a deep gash tore my heart into shreds. Agony had clawed at my soul like a caged animal pulling on the bars of it enclosure. That's how I felt watching him leave. Because even though I was there to watch it, I couldn't do anything about it. He wouldn't let me. And despite him knowing I didn't want this. He had left without another word.

Goodbye, my beloved bride.

Goodbye. Goodbye Goodbye.

It wasn't ever really going to be a Goodbye. After all An artists love last forever and when they say goodbye it's to say find me in the next painting you see, look for me in the charcoal smeared on your hands. And so I did. I found Rafayel in every masterpiece I saw. A painting of the ocean. A drawing of a delicate sunflower. The color purple.

Rafayel told me once, that I swayed like a sunflower playing saxophone. I never stopped thinking about it. Everytime someone would say I move too much or I dance strangely, I would think about him and his words and remember his voice.

I miss you so much Raffie. I hope wherever you are in the sea is safe and you are safe. I hope your okay and I hope that the seawater feels like home on your skin. I wish for a moment i could know when you look up at the stars, so that we could look at them again for the last time.

When is the last time going to be the last time?

Why couldn't you have taken me with you? Why did you leave me here to suffer an endless reign of terror that exists within a loop of agony. This endless pain is yet to subside and without you here I fear it may never come to a halt. I did not know you asking me to marry you would lead to eternal suffering in lonesome. Do you still have your ring on?

I must know these things.

I must know if you are happy. I must know if you are at peace. I must know if you still think of me.

I must know.

I just want to tell you that it's all worth it. I hope you know just how much the time we had together meant to me. Your face lit up when we met for the first time. At the pond, the small red fish you held in the net brought out a pink in your cheeks, and your hair was sparkling violet in the summer sun. Your smile was like a shot of pure sunlight straight to the heart.

If I had to tell you one thing. I'd say be safe. Just be happy. Be the best version of yourself no matter how you get there. Take every path you desire so you may reach the life you deserve. And if it is a life away from myself than let it be.

I can only sit by the golden sands and sob at the air as I clutch your paint brush. So worn out and so full of memories. All your line strokes and brushes of blues. All the flicks of gold and wisps of green and white. Each painting you created exists in the bristles. Each single strand is a new masterpiece from your heart.

We are still bonded.

'By the seas and sands, let our fates be held in our hands. In the name of the waves and the tides, let our love be forged forever in time'

I repeated it like a prayer. Like a poem they surgically stitched into my brain. I wanted to scream and cry and tear my hair out and slam chairs against tables and punch holes in the walls. I wanted to tear my lungs out and crush them. I wanted to, no, needed to rip my heart from my body so no person may ever witness it again. Until the day Rafayel returned I would throw my heart into the ocean, to let it it sink and die where my love has gone.

So let this be my plea, o great sea, that when the tides come flooding on the shores of Whitesand Bay that they will bring my beloved back to me. And when they retreat, let them take me.

[princeescaluswords]

You may not have an answer for this but I feel it would still be fun to ask. Were there any hunters that hunted anything besides werewolves? We know that the Beastionary exist that depicts all of the different supernatural creatures. However in all the families, and individuals, that we've seen with the exception of the first Argent to make a kill. It seems that no hunter is ever prepared to fight anything besides werewolves. Which paints the picture that either werewolves are more plentiful than anyone would think and no one thinks they'll run into anything else. Or, that there's some in-house xenophobia (might not be the right word) going on in the community. Because gun happy Kate walked into the room with a nice piece of machinery ready to go ham on werewolves right out of her car. Yet the Calaveras, who operate out of Mexico, can't deal with a Berserker? And let's start to get the Kenama mystery. Nice for a plot device but, you mean none of the hunters thought "hey what if it was this thing" and then said "Hey I know how to kill it\ defend against it"? I know teen Wolf isn't Supernatural but, one does still make you think about the other in terms of competency.

First, I want to address your quote: "I know that Teen Wolf isn't Supernatural ..." You answered your own question right there. I stopped watching Supernatural after its first couple of seasons for exactly the same reason. Before it decided to descend into full-throated blasphemy against my religion and indulgent Chosen-One power fantasies, it was a monster-of-the-week show, and that meant it had to obey certain conventions; not because of a lack of creativity or skill but because the very format demanded that the obstacle be discovered, explored, and resolved in one episode. I heard that they adapted multi-episode arcs later, but I was no longer invested.

The necessity of the format required the Winchesters to be highly competent. No matter what they were fighting, the lore and means to defeat it had to lay within their immediate abilities. The character's human frailties were present but never seemed to become an obstacle which couldn't be surmounted in 45 minutes.

Teen Wolf also had conventions it had to follow. In its case, the obstacle was discovered, explored, and resolved over an entire season of 10 to 12 episodes (and in one case 20 episodes). In addition, the protagonist was a teenage boy and his allies, most of whom were also teenagers. They were also not professionals, which meant not only did they lack all the skills to handle the events (which is what attracted me to the show) but they also had to be drawn into the conflict and still try to maintain their normal lives while coping with it.

One of the consequences of this format, however, was that the civil authorities and vigilante groups who were present could not ultimately be the people who resolved the conflict of the season. More often, they were obstacles to that resolution. This didn't mean that they were incompetent. This meant that the writers -- sometimes successfully and sometimes not -- had to create situations where the protagonist and his allies were in a more advantageous position than these other groups.

This brings us to the Argents and the other hunters -- though in every season, at least one member of the Argent family was part of the protagonist's ally group and provided invaluable assistance in resolving the season's conflict. We know that the Argents fought more than just werewolves, though they were inspired by La Bête du Gévaudan. The Bestiary should be proof enough, but if it wasn't there is this speech that Chris Argent gives to Derek Hale in Echo House (3x20).

Chris: ... You ever heard of the Berserkers? Germanic warriors.

Derek: They wore the skins of bears to channel their ferocity.

Chris: They didn't just wear them. They became them. You know, a couple of years ago, a family came to us for help with their son. This group of teenagers, they were doing all sorts of rituals with animal skins. Somehow they tapped into it. But with Berserkers, the human side doesn't last long. They're not tempered by the moon.

Derek: He killed people?

Chris: He tore them apart. Eventually, I had to tell the family their son was gone. It took three of us to take him down. Almost every bullet we had ...

So yeah, hunters know about Berserkers, and just like Peter, they were terrified of them. Now imagine fighting two Berserkers (three if you include Scott) who, while not being tempered by the moon, are being controlled by La Loba, who is not only a Nagual werejaguar but also one of the Argent's "star players." Kate Argent knew hunter tactics, even the Calavera's tactics and their capabilities, and could react accordingly. The Calaveras would have had a difficult time against a single Berserker according to Chris's story, but against something like that? Victory was never assured.

It was impossible to be always prepared for every monster they might hunt. The Bestiary, as Allison stated, is over a thousand-pages long. Even given the Argent's significant ties to the political and law enforcement communities -- repeatedly demonstrated -- they wouldn't be able move through the world openly with all the force they had all the time. Only once they identify the monsters they are hunting, they might be able to get the proper supplies, as for example, when Chris Argent tracked down that particular species of wolf's bane in Season 4.

You brought up the Kanima; while it's in the Bestiary, it is exceedingly rare. Neither Deaton nor Chris could identify it at first. Gerard may have, but if he did, he concealed that information because he could use the Kanima exactly in the way he tried -- to get Derek to give him the Bite to cure his cancer and then become an alpha werewolf himself. How competent would the Argents have been against the Kanima if they weren't being betrayed by one of their own? How competent would the Argents have been in Season 1 if Kate wasn't also, at the same time, trying to cover up her violation of the Code (and massacre of innocent werewolves and humans).

As for why the Argents and the Calaveras seemed ready to fight werewolves? Because they were in Beacon Hills, historically founded by the Hale werewolf pack as a sanctuary, and a place where other werewolf packs came for advice and guidance. If you're an animal hunter going to the desert, you don't bring the equipment you use for polar bears.

These plot points were included to keep the focus of the seasons on Scott, the lead protagonist, and his ally group, without minimizing the Argent's story or the threat of the Calaveras or even the renegade hunting family in Monstrous (4x10). It was used for great effect in Season 6B as well, with Monroe's crusade. After Images (6x13) showed Gerard deftly hunting Brett but also manipulating Liam into revealing himself to the general populace, while we learned in Pressure Test (6x15) that they killed all of Satomi's pack.

Yet, the narrative focus and thematic requirements determined that it couldn't be the established hunter family that solved the problems, especially since one of the themes of Teen Wolf is that violence, while sometimes necessary, is frequently not the solution to these conflicts.

[majesticwren]

The Hanging Tree (Dean Ambrose | Jon Moxley x OFC)

Summary: Are you, are you comin' to the tree? Where they strung up a man, they say, who murdered three — She is on a path looking for war as her fate foretold. And he has war within him. Both, thirsty for vengeance, justice and blood.

Words: 15k. Trigger Warning/s: Toxic Display of Masculinity, Implied and not so Implied Harassment, Healthy Display of Masculinity, Sheamus is a Special Guest in this Chapter - and also SheamusxDrew it's Canon in my everything, do not come for me -, Fluff, Jealousy, Dean Acting Possessive and Dumb, Smut, Semi-Public Smut (?) - this time it's actually happening because I felt like writing it and the scene it's steamy, hi -, Dirty Talk, Threatening Behaviour and Harassment pt.2, Verbal Abuse, Violence, both Dean and Valkyrie are Unhinged by the end sorry not sorry Tags: my lovely @hirunoka and honorary mention to @literaryuppsala, thank you both for all the support 💕Let me know if you'd like to be added 🌻

← Previous Chapter | Next Chapter  →  Masterpost Playlist

Chapter 7 - Oxytocin.

Part I.

Valkyrie was far from being used to that kind of world and lifestyle.

Yes, she knew what it meant to work with the stylists. Every time she was expected to go on ring, she was required to wear her full costume gear and makeup. But she always thought about that as preparing for battle. It wasn’t what she was used to back home, far from it, but it was as easy as getting used to the cameras always rolling. She understood what it meant to have a brand and to carry a character in everything, may that be fighting skills or costumes. She was legitimate and her fight was always true, it didn’t mean that she couldn’t get used to the spectacle of it.

But that evening was different.

That evening was made of champagne, limousine rides and red carpets. It was splendid and opulent, making her feel just like a Hollywood movie star, chased by the paparazzi, dressed to impress and ready for a scandal.

The gala was hosted inside an art gallery set up for the party. There were huge, glimmering, crystal chandeliers hanging from painted ceilings and small orchestra groups playing live in every room. The guests lingered around, chit-chatting and indulging in the drinks and food offered by the catering.

Every guest was dressed for the event. The men were wearing elegant tuxedos and polished shoes, while the women wore the most beautiful dresses in the most varied range of colours and shapes, all adorned by sparkly, precious jewels. All looking as beautiful as royalty.

Not every guest was a wrestler, she didn’t recognise many faces in the crowd, but between those who she did recognise she was so surprised to notice that even the roughest, angriest, most violent fighters were all polished and dressed up.

Valkyrie herself had to admit she felt like she was someone else, as she found herself floating in such a different reality from what she was used to. She could, for once, pretend to be just a princess. Her garments certainly carried such an impression.

She was wearing the most beautiful dress she had ever seen in her entire existence, made with the finest materials and greatest craftsmanship. It was the colour of stormy clouds hovering over agitated seas, made of tulle softly falling along her figure, enriched by sparkly, floral embroilments. The soft, elegant beauty of it was opposed by the harder-looking corset caging her torso, made to look like a piece of silvery armour, connected by many, thin, silvery chains to a chest and shoulder piece covered in silver and light blue rhinestones.

As soon as her stylist showed it to her, she was gone for it. Never in her life had she thought she could fall in love with a dress, and yet, she had to change her mind. Even if her team had set aside some other choices, there was no game, as soon as Valkyrie had seen it, that was it.

Wearing it around became her entire purpose and the only reason why she decided not to oppose going to the gala.

That was a dress that deserved to be worn, carried around, shown off and danced in.

Her look was finished with an elegant headpiece inspired by her ring costume. The two wings to the side of her head were made of real, white feathers covered in thin rhinestones that recalled the colours of her dress and makeup.

She felt invincible wearing it – and with no other problem whatsoever in her life but the drama she felt she needed to cause just because of it. To the point that even while parading in front of the cameras by the entrance of the gallery, she found herself posing. Her vanity and self-confidence had taken over, bringing her to feel the visceral need to be looked at.

By the time she stepped into the building, following the marble steps covered in a stream of red velvet, Valkyrie was literally glowing. She was the embodiment of ethereal beauty and she wasn’t afraid to show it.

Someone by the door passed her a leaflet containing the evening program and after that, Valkyrie was left to roam free the different rooms waiting for the gala dinner to start.

She didn’t know enough people to have interest in mingling so she decided to take that chance to explore the art that place had to offer since it was on display for them.

It was a good enough way to spend time, blending into the crowd and enjoying how alive her surroundings felt. Life could be felt flowing in every room. It was in the soft classical music and in the loud chattering and murmuring of the crowd, broken by the occasional distant burst of laughter. It was in the noise of flutes clinking or bottles popping, and in the smell of canapés. In every corner the air was so charged with energy, it was inebriating.

For once, being submerged by such display of life, Valkyrie found herself grateful to be there to witness it.

A small sigh left her chest and a tranquil smile nested on her lips as she observed the shameless brush strokes on a painting representing a young beautiful naked woman lost in the arms of a knight.

Valkyrie dared to look at the details of the painting, only in appearance supposed to picture a soft, secret moment between lovers. She knew exactly how the woman in the painting must have felt, with a hot, running heart and heavy, empty loins. Breathless and abandoned to the will of her chosen one. Passion was wild, not sweet, it was something that paintwork couldn’t hide.

“You should definitely dress like this all day, every day,”

A shiver crossed her back, making her jerk. Her eyelids immediately fell heavier on her eyes as she naturally moved towards that voice. It wasn’t even the familiar warmth of his tone that got her, it was his sudden closeness as if he had just materialised from the very fabric of her fantasies.

Dean stood just behind her, so close it was dangerous and prohibited, but also electrifying. She left any trace of common sense at the hotel room. It was a lost battle even before she started it. So, she quickly decided there and then that she had no intention to fight either him or the warm desire already distending under her skin, making her stomach curl and her heart flatter.

She decided to blame the dress.

“All day?” She wondered, sending him a playful look, not even trying to hide what was supposed to be concealed in the flirty sarcasm in between her words.

And Dean was ready to bite. “Well-” his eyes became darker, his gaze sharper, as he looked at her in such a direct, shameless way, making her feel naked under his eyes, “maybe not.”

Valkyrie took a long moment to study his figure. He was astonishingly handsome, more beautiful than he had ever been before, so polished and elegant. And he knew it. There was extreme confidence, maybe a touch of arrogance too, in the way he stood, willingly basking under her eyes. No trace of timidity. He looked like a dream, with his hair pulled back and face clean-shaven, and with his black tux fitting his fame perfectly.

His charm hit her like a thick wave, washing over her and dragging her down towards him. There was no escape. There was no solace, no peace.

It wasn’t that she had forgotten all the reasons why they shouldn't have been together. It was that she didn't care.

The dress made her selfish and inconsiderate. It made her reckless. And she desperately wanted to be lost in his arms just like the woman in the painting.

She didn't even try to fight it because she knew she wouldn't have won. And it was just much sweeter to raise her white flag from the beginning, with no losses or suffering.

Valkyrie unashamedly ran a hand on the satin collar of his jacket. “You too, by the way. You look breathtaking.”

“You’d want me to wear this crap all day, every day?”

“Oh, yes,” Valkyrie pretended to brush something off his shoulder only to get the chance to lean closer to him and whisper in his ear, “I’d want you to fuck me all day, every day, in these clothes.”

“You’d like that, uh?” His cocky smirk was so handsome she pardoned his arrogance.

She bit down on her lower lip giving him a long, slow look. “I would, baby.”

Dean rolled his eyes, purring, not even doing as much as trying to hide how much he was wrapped around her finger. “Tell me, how am I supposed to stay away from you?”

“Maybe you shouldn’t.” She dared to openly challenge him.

Dean just looked at her, hesitating only a moment, before releasing a soft hiss, and turning away. “You're such a tease. You’re driving me insane.” His deep voice was soft but vibrated under a shiver that made him squeeze his fists. Dean took a step back.

Valkyrie smiled, extremely satisfied by his words. She enjoyed imagining that what was bothering him was his extreme attempt to try and keep his hands off her.

Gods, she wanted him to lose his control so badly.

“I mean it.” She dared, fighting against the need to slide closer to him. Instead, she looked around, only to make sure they weren’t attracting attention.

Thankfully they were blending well in the crowd. It was easy to feel like they were hidden and unseen when they were covered by the strangers surrounding them.

Her words attracted Dean’s attention and, as she caught the look he shot her, they both stood looking at each other for a very long moment.

Studying his features, Valkyrie could see his uncertainty breaking through, softening his ego. And with that, she was under the impression he could be holding his breath.

“I thought you were set on your decision.”

“I still want you to ruin me, Dean. Maybe I don’t want to fight against it anymore.”

“Against what?”

He hung from her lips. There was no reason for her to explain further, but he clearly wanted to hear her say it.

“I can’t fight how much I need you.” She said it as if that was the easiest thing to reveal. As if it was so obvious and predictable.

Dean broke eye contact. He puffed his chest as his gaze moved all around them. He was making sure they were still unnoticed. He was looking out for her. The idea that he could still be protecting her best interest, still respecting whatever wish she expressed when she pushed him away, despite hurting him, made her fall to her knees for such a man.

“You only ever need to ask.” He finally said, sliding his sharp gaze on her.

The blue of his irises was darkened. The way he looked at her made her blood boil.

“Well, consider it a request, then.”

“Who are you and what did you do to my Eir?” He wondered, jokingly. His sudden soft sarcasm broke the tension raising between them.

Valkyrie didn’t even know why or what got into her. And it didn’t matter. All the reasons why she pushed him away didn’t mean anything now, it was as if it was all so unimportant. She knew she had to protect him. And she intended to keep doing it. But it didn’t seem as important as being close to him.

She needed him desperately, but her desire wasn’t only physical. Which was both the problem and the dealbreaker.

She wanted his noble heart. She wanted his wild soul. She wanted his ravaging madness. She wanted him and everything he was and represented. Spending a moment longer pretending they were strangers was like withering slowly.

The truth was that missing him was more painful and scarier than the idea of putting him in danger. All the ifs and maybes that kept floating in her mind, gnawing at her brain and heart, never leaving her a second of peace, made it impossible for her to actually find a good reason to justify spending another second away from him.

“Valkyrie! There you are!”

She was startled by a third voice that broke in between them. Dean too froze. With a soft gasp, she looked around, slightly alarmed.

As she focused on Sylvia, who stood by them, Valkyrie felt a shot of annoyance vibrate through her chest as she tried her best not to growl like a beast against the woman. Though she didn’t stop herself from rolling her eyes.

She knew what was to come, and she had to think about a smart way to wiggle her way out of that situation very quickly. Though, when she was the victim of her emotions, Valkyrie was rarely smart. Her instinct was stronger than her brain.

“Hi, Sylvia, what is it?”

“I need to introduce you to someone,” the woman explained briefly just before she looked at Dean, scrutinizing his look from head to toe. “And Ambrose,” Sylvia’s features bent under pure contempt, “I barely recognised you.”

Dean winked at her, pulling the cockiest smirk. “Even us lunatics are allowed to dress up, sometimes.”

“Yeah-” Sylvia was still looking up and down at him, “a tie doesn’t cover up craziness.”

Valkyrie ground her teeth, instinctively stepping in front of Dean, letting her protective side show. She even pushed a hand on his chest, sliding her fingers under his jacket, asserting possession and intimacy over him. “That’s more than enough.”

Sylvia sent her a judgemental look. “What do you think you’re doing? I thought the problem was taken care of.”

“Oh, I did take care of it.”

Valkyrie wasn’t thinking clearly. She was driven by her emotions, feeling the need to rebel against the constrictions that she had been put under. And that most definitely wasn’t the smartest thing to do.

Turning towards Dean and grabbed him by the tie, pulling him into a kiss.

It was freeing. And it was selfish. It was like she had something to prove. And, at the same time, it was like breaking all the rules, even against her own better judgement, taking what she wanted. What she deserved.

Because she wasn't only kissing him to be mischievous or to get a reaction from Sylvia doing something so prohibited and frowned upon. She was kissing him because it was what she wanted to do. She was kissing him for the simplest reason of them all: he made her happy. He filled her world. He gave her purpose.

Spending another second denying it was a terrible waste of time.

Maybe she would have regretted it in the morning. But it didn't matter, she was ready to go through another heartbreak, even if it meant hurting him again. If that was the case, she would have welcomed the known loneliness and pain like an old friend.

Dean didn’t oppose her. He was surprised at first, but his lips were extremely welcoming. His hands easily found her hips, sliding across the sides of her corset. Although she really wanted it, she didn’t give him the chance to wrap her in a hug. With her point proven, she gave him a little push, turning towards Sylvia.

A satisfied, chaotic smile curled her lips. “So, who do I need to meet?”

Sylvia was shocked and offended as her eyes jumped from her to Dean and back. The anger rising behind her eyes was only a tickle on Valkyrie’s skin.

She turned to Dean, bending elegantly. Still brushing a hand on his chest in an unashamedly personal way, she offered him a warm, honest smile. "Find me later?"

"You bet, angel." He winked at her, bending his head, giving her a glimpse of a smile full of dimples.

Thinking about it, she didn't have to follow Sylvia.

She didn't have to be there at all. She had about a million ideas to better fill her time with things to do with and to Dean, than spending a minute longer at the gala.

That was the moment Sylvia grabbed her by the arm and dragged her away as if she read her thoughts on her face.

"What are you doing with him, Valkyrie?"

"Wasn't it obvious? Want me to be more specific? ‘Cause I can be." She didn't even think to be polite. Holding her tongue wasn't something she was used to doing.

And not in front of Sylvia. Whatever power she thought she had over her it was nothing compared to what Valkyrie was and could do.

"You can't be with Ambrose. I thought we talked about this-"

Valkyrie stopped their march, pulling herself off Sylvia's grip.

The look she lowered on the woman was as cold as ice, detached, severe and extremely violent. "Say anything bad about him and I swear to all the Æsir that I will hurt you in unhuman ways." Her gaze was lit by the anger of her warning.

"Why are you fighting me? I'm trying to do what's best for you, you foolish girl."

To Sylvia's grumbling, Valkyrie raised her head and widened her shoulders looking dangerous. "I am not a girl. I am a Valkyrie. I am a deity. Do not forget that. I will do what’s best for me. And you? You can leave any time if you don’t like it.”

“This is not a matter of liking it. I know you take things personally, but, at the end of the day, you are doing a job. It’s business.”

“Great. Then let’s keep it professional, shall we?” Valkyrie raised a hand in the air, taking control over the situation. “Stay out of my personal life. Who I decide to share my bed with it’s not your concern. Whether I decide to get personal with Dean is not your concern. And you better keep your opinions about him to yourself. I care deeply about him; do just as much as give him the side eye and I won’t be happy. Are we understood?”

Finally, as Valkyrie spoke, Sylvia lowered her eyes. Her nod was quick, but firm.

Before the woman would even begin to say anything apologetic or otherwise, Valkyrie raised her chin.

“Back to business then, who do you want me to meet?”

Sylvia looked suddenly nervous about it, looking around and fidgeting with her little purse, swinging her weight from one foot to the other. “A possible investor.”

“Ok,” Valkyrie did her best to appear as relaxed as she could. Her fair features softly distended as she slid her hands on her tulle skirt as if she was ironing it out, in reality, she was only trying to rise above. Feeling the dress helped give her confidence. “Why?”

“He is a fan. He is looking into supporting you, but he’d really like to meet you first.”

“Here we go again with the show horse business I guess.”

“Uh?”

“Nothing. Fine, let’s go then. Bring me to him.”

Part II.

Valkyrie had regretted every single one of her choices the second she realised what it meant to go and meet said investor.

Sylvia was all over him for the very valid reason of how much money he could, potentially, pour into her name and into the company. He was there, that evening, for that specific reason – as he had said himself multiple times, gloating about how rich he was – he was going to donate a big sum to the charity, but, more importantly, by his own words, he wanted to get the chance to meet his wrestling heroes.

So, very quickly into the first few moments of introductions, it was made very clear to Valkyrie that she was not only expected but required to spend the evening by his side. And she was to enjoy it.

They had even put her sitting next to him during the dinner event.

She should have left with Dean the moment she thought about it. She could have been rolling in the sheets with him, right now, being lost in unconditional pleasure. Or they could have spent their evening running around town wearing their gala looks, talking about their lives and eating disgusting, greasy food. Whatever her mind decided to fantasise about, was much, much sweeter than being pushed into spending the rest of the evening with some other guy only to basically sell herself to him.

He wasn’t even pleasant. He was loud and full of himself, and not in a good way. Every time he spoke, he expected people to pay attention to him because he was convinced whatever he was saying was of the most importance. He made jokes that weren’t funny but liked to see people laughing around him. He kept using his riches as a valid personality trait to impress everyone when the only thing Valkyrie felt was boredom.

She had met farmers with more valuable hearts and minds than him, or more humble kings.

The worst part of it all was that he seemed to be under the assumption to have conquered her. He dared to touch her every now and then, may that be brushing his fingers on her arm or fully placing a hand on her back, never once asking permission. And many were the inappropriate comments he sent her way. He acted as if he owned her already.

Which didn’t help his case. Valkyrie had decided she didn’t want to have anything to do with such a person. She didn’t need his money or publicity. Not when it meant he was under the impression he could control her.

She would have already left, if it hadn’t been for the fact that he threatened multiple times to sue Sylvia and her entire team since he had paid a lot of money to get the privilege to spend that evening with her.

It’s not like she couldn’t leave anyway. She surely wasn’t scared of such an insignificant man. But she didn’t want other people to be in trouble. He certainly looked like the kind of man who would wreak havoc if wronged.

She thought she just needed to get through the evening, hoping to be rescued, somehow.

She held a thin glass filled with a mocktail in between her fingers, boringly looking over to the centre of the large dining room where, after dinner had been served, a big space was created so people could dance elegantly, following the orchestra, waiting for the charity announcements to start.

“And that’s when I told them that I didn’t care if the Queen of England wanted that piece for her collection, I was the one who would have won it. And now there’s a priceless statue embellishing my living room.” His chest was so puffed up she thought he could explode.

But that would have been good for her. Sweet release.

The man looked at her like he was expecting something from her, so just then Valkyrie realised that she was supposed to answer in some way. With a little delay to be a natural response, she pushed a fake smile out, pretending to be impressed. “That is incredible! Must be a hell of a view.”

“You know,” he began, daring to slide closer to her. He pulled an arm on the back of her chair, wrapping it around her shoulders, resting his hand on the other side of her. She froze, realising she was caged and couldn’t move away without risking causing a scene. “I could show it to you.”

“Show me?”

“Yeah. The statue. In my living room. I think you’d like it.” His gaze became suddenly turbid. The way he looked at her made her feel so dirty she needed a shower.

Valkyrie had to push the disgust deep down inside of her not to risk gagging in his face.

“And I think there would be other things you might like,” he wasn’t done, even when his point was perfectly clear.

Funny how she would have let the right man whisper to her ear the most horrid, degrading, perverted things he wanted to do to her and be desperately turned on. But just as easily, the wrong man could only attempt and succeed to disgust her.

“I am sorry, I don’t think I understand.” She pretended to be naïve, only in the hope that he would think about what he was doing and stop. Valkyrie moved back a bit, trying to find some space from him.

“Oh, c’mon. You know what I mean,” the smile he was giving out was as confident as it was disgusting. Unbelievable that he could think women could fall for such behaviour at all. “I’ve never been with a woman like you. So big and strong.” Somehow his words didn’t sound like a compliment at all. The look he traced across her figure made her want to vomit. “I’d love to add you to my collection.” He traced a circle on her shoulder with his index.

Valkyrie was shaken by a cold shiver. It sounded like he was ready to fuck her in a despicable way, and she wasn’t at all allowed to enjoy it, just to then store her on a shelf for the rest of eternity. That time she didn’t hide her disgust. That was the moment she thought a line was crossed.

She pushed a hand out, moving away from him, and turned her head away breaking eye contact, clearly imposing a solid wall between them. “No. I don’t think so.”

“Well, why not?”

“This is inappropriate,” she pleaded at first, trying to be as polite as possible, “please, stop.”

“The hell I’m going to stop. Do you like being chased, uh? Fine.”

“No, Mr Malone. Believe me when I say in the politest way possible that I am not interested.”   

“Why? Are you into chicks or something?”

She jerked to his question fighting against the need to slap him. “It is not your concern, sir.”

“Because it can be arranged. If you rather be with a woman, I’d be happy to watch.”

Valkyrie looked around, the sudden frost of panic flooding her blood. Their table was empty, all the other couples had gone dancing or mingling. And no one else seemed to be close enough, or paying attention to them, to notice she was in desperate need of being rescued.

“I said no, Mr Malone.” This time, there was no space for politeness.

He chuckled. She could have been honking like a goose right now, it wouldn’t have made a difference to his understanding.

“Do you think a no had stopped me before?”

An icy shard crossed her heart. Valkyrie lost colour in her face as the implication of his words became knowledge and vivid images in her mind.

Though fear didn’t freeze her, it lit her up. Her disgust quickly became anger as she snapped.

Valkyrie turned quickly and grabbed him by the neck, unconcerned about their surroundings and the fact that people could have seen her acting inappropriately. She clutched her fingers around his throat, squeezing the air out of his lungs and pushing her nails deep into his flesh.

“I swear to all the Gods that men like you deserve the worst curses. If a no doesn’t stop you, how does the promise of cutting your dick clean off sound?”

Fear shot through his eyes as he tried to fight her off. But Valkyrie didn’t give in. She gave him a shake, leaving his neck only to grab him by the jaw, squeezing his features in her palm. She pulled closer to him only to dangerously bare her teeth to his face.

“I am the biggest shark in here, so do not dare to think for one moment I owe you anything, little man.” She pushed him off, snarling to his face like a rabid animal, “and fucking learn how to talk to a woman.”

He pulled away from her. The horrified look he shot her made her lips bend in a satisfied smile.

“Y-you will regret this.”

“Will I?” Her gaze became dark and dangerous, “Careful there with your threats." She hissed like a snake.

Then, the air moved around her.

As if her Gods finally decided to grace her, they sent a hero her way.

A big shadow stood behind her. She didn’t need to see the man to notice Malone's eyes raise behind her all the way across his figure. As he appeared even more scared, then she began to relax against her chair.

A couple of big hands slid on her shoulders in a protective hold. "You may want to go and grab a breather, fella."

Valkyrie would have recognised that accent anywhere.

Sheamus stood behind her imposing but calm, as usual.

A soft smile crossed her lips as she released a sigh, gently giving him a grateful pat on the wrist.

"Why would I listen to you, mate?"

"Because," Sheamus slid a hand in front of Valkyrie, encouraging her to take it and get up. She did, following his move blindly, exchanging a brief look with the Irishman. He pushed her gently behind his back, just then puffing up his chest appearing as big and as dangerous as he could be, "I'll be the one who breaks your jaw if you don't."

Valkyrie wrapped her hands around his big arm, smiling satisfied. "I'd be happy to watch." She teased, leaning her chin on Sheamus' shoulder as she looked towards Malone.

He appeared utterly offended by their behaviour as if they were the ones who'd been disrespectful.

Malone got up from his chair but, instead of listening to Sheamus' friendly suggestion, he pointed a finger at Valkyrie's face, actively crossing her. Though, before he could say anything vaguely threatening, Sheamus snapped. Grabbing his hand, he tore his finger purposely hurting him.

"Got something to say to me?" Sheamus barked, giving him a strong shake.

As Malone squeaked, many were the pair of eyes set upon them. Some people in the crowd immediately closer to them even gasped.

The man's eyes slid on Valkyrie, filled with hatred, which set Sheamus off even more. He stepped forward, completely covering her with his body. "Don't even look at her. I swear to God I'll break your finger, fella."

"OK, OK! Fine! Let me go!" As Malone begged, Sheamus gave him another shake before pushing him away.

"Fuck off, before I get really angry."

Surprisingly, Malone listened and left. Defeated and pissed off, but he left. The further away he got, the easier it became for Valkyrie to breathe.

Something told her that wouldn't have been the last of him she would have seen.

As soon as Sheamus faced her, she pulled him into a hug, releasing a relieved sigh against his shoulder. "Thank you."

The Irishman chuckled, gently cradling her into his arms with the confidence of a dear friend.

She didn't like many people, but Sheamus she liked very much. He was a very close friend of hers and she cared about him.

Differently from any other bond she installed in the company, Sheamus wasn’t a warrior her Gods sent her to help but someone who intervened and helped her first. They became very close ever since to the point she had asked for his help even if he didn’t owe her any favours.

"When did you get here?" She wondered distancing herself just enough to look him in the eye.

Even despite the fact that she was a very tall woman and wearing heels, he still towered over her.

He pulled the warmest of smiles looking at her with his gentle blue eyes. "Just this afternoon."

Valkyrie gave him a good look, studying his figure, handsome features and clothes. He was wearing a tartan grey suit with a loose white shirt open on his pale chest, showing the golden Celtic cross he was wearing around his neck.

"Gods, look at you."

Sheamus blushed, chuckling as he looked down at himself. "Yeah? Is it not too penguin-looking?"

"It's not." She was still checking him out, just to underline her words.

He nodded, gratefully taking the compliment and puffing his chest up. Then, he pointed at her. "Well, hate to point out the elephant in the room, but you look fucking stunning, as usual." He pulled a deadly wink that had the ability to make her blush. "Much better than me' old arse tightened in this suit."

She even dared to bend over to have a look, only to nod in approval. "No. Your arse is perfectly fine."

They both laughed, only for Valkyrie to drag him in another tight hug. "It's so good to see you, I've missed you."

"I've missed you too, lass."

He had been off for a few weeks due to an injury and it felt like they hadn't seen each other for years. So many things had happened.

She wasn't even sure she was the same woman he had known before.

But Gods life had been lonely and difficult without his presence and guidance. Sheamus had always been a ray of sunshine in the dark for her and possibly one of the few, if not the only, that she had been trusting since the very beginning.

"So," he began, breaking the hug only to slide a heavy arm around her shoulders, "I wasn't here to look after your sorry arse so you thought to cause all sorts of problems, uh?"

Valkyrie giggled. Next to him, she felt like a little girl, there was something in the Irishman charm that she always had a weakness to.

"Well, please, don't put it that way."

"Ya' sure don't have many friends. What's that business with Randy?"

"Ah, nothing really. He got sour about me winning a match against him and now he wants another match to prove something."

"OK, but there's real beef between you two."

"He started it."

"That is weird. Not like him at all."

"Do you know him well?"

"Well, as good as I know a colleague but I wouldn't trust him with my life. But he is not a bad guy."

"He is being an ass. Professional about it up to the point he called me names."

"Did he really?"

"Just once." She froze, rolling her eyes. "Ok. I did my thing, I helped someone he was attacking, and he got upset because I've won."

"Yeah, we'll get to Ambrose in a minute," Sheamus pointed a finger to her face, wiggling it like he was going to scold her, except he was badly hiding a sarcastic smile, "don't you think that because I wasn't here, I don't know all the gossip."

She still blushed violently, trying to avoid his look, barely able to contain a timid smile. That was pure emotion on display as only talking about Dean made her heart flutter.

"Yeah. Look at you, I thought I was the only one able to make you blush and giggle like a lassie."

Valkyrie looked up at him, pulling a cocky smirk. "You do make me blush."

"Ah, but Ambrose surely has better tricks up his sleeve, uh?"

"That he does." Her lips bent tenderly only thinking about him.

Sheamus shook his head, raising his eyes to the ceiling. "Damn, I leave for a month and my favourite girl gets snatched. Unbelievable."

"You should have made your move sooner, old man."

"Yeah? And leave Drew to run away with you?"

"Yep. Or, give you one better, no need to leave Drew behind." She dared to wink. "I'm perfectly fine running away with the both of you."

"Sure you are."

No one else had the privilege to see her under such light. No other human being made her feel so comfortable and relaxed to grant her the possibility to be as warm and as flirty, knowing she didn't have to think about consequences, as it was with him.

She felt extremely comfortable with Drew as well, Sheamus' boyfriend and their colleague, they both were like family to her. But with Sheamus, there was a different, deeper level of understanding.

"You are a menace. I hope Ambrose knows he is up for a ride."

"Oh, he knows." To the smirk she offered, Sheamus chuckled, shaking his head.

"C'mon, lass, tell me everything. What did I miss?" Pulling one of his bright smiles that made his blue eyes glimmer, Sheamus sat heavily on the chair previously occupied by Malone.

Surprisingly how easily she forgot about him since Sheamus arrived.

"Well," She sat next to him, ready to start diving into all the details of her new situation, especially looking forward to having his advice about all her doubts.

His words would have been the only ones she considered listening to.

Part III.

"So, he doesn't know?" Sheamus was hanging on the edge of his seat, captured by her storytelling.

Valkyrie shook her head. "No. He knows some, but he doesn't know the entire thing." She fidgeted with the thin tulle sleeve of her dress. "Do you think I should tell him?"

Sheamus sighed, taking a long second to think about it. "It's difficult. I mean, it is the reason I haven't told Drew."

"Yeah. I know perfectly well he would want to help,"

"And that is the problem."

"Also, Dean is a bit-"

"Crazy?"

"Unpredictable." She corrected him as both smirked, knowing exactly what she meant. "I do not want to put him in danger."

"But he has the right to know."

"Do you think?"

"Well, you clearly can't keep pushing him away. Especially since he played a trick on you or something and you don't seem inclined or able to stay away."

"Well, that's true," without even thinking about it she raised her eyes to the crowd as if she hoped to find him easily in the people surrounding them.

"I don't think he should stay in the dark for long if you two are involved. With Drew, it's different because if you chose to tell him, I'd respect your choice, it is your business after all."

"I wouldn't do such a thing to you."

"But you get what I mean."

"Yeah. I do." A sigh left her chest.

"You like the man very much, don't you?"

Valkyrie felt like she couldn’t hide from his look so she just nodded. Her raw emotions were so clearly visible on the edge of her reddened cheekbones and glimmery eyes. “I do. He makes me feel alive.”

Sheamus looked at her with such pride shining through his eyes. He leaned closer to pinch her cheeks, offering a soft smile. “Looks to me you’re falling for him.”

She hid a timid smile behind her hand, biting softly on her knuckles. She was indeed falling for Dean. No safety measures and no interest in the consequences. They had no future and she didn’t care. Not until he could be her present.

“He better not waste your love because I swear on your Gods and mine, I will skin him alive.”

Valkyrie shook her head quickly, grabbing on his hand and giving him an encouraging squeeze. He was the only man she would have accepted such behaviour from. She didn’t like to be protected or be treated like she couldn’t take care of herself, but Sheamus had that privilege. Only because she knew his behaviour was dictated by his affection and not an attempt to undervalue her.

“There’s no need. His heart is extremely noble.”

Sheamus chuckled, shaking his head. “So, when will I meet him?”

“Ah-” Before she could think about something quick and witty to respond to avoid such situation, her attention got caught by the tall and large man wearing an elegant, full-kilt suit walking towards them. His blue eyes were both gentle and piercing, made even clearer by the dark edges of his long, curated beard and tied black hair.

“Incoming,” she announced, directing Sheamus's attention to the man approaching them, trying her best to hide a relieved sigh.

Before Sheamus could turn, Drew was already sliding a hand across his wide shoulders, pressing a quick kiss on his temple. They both moved like Sun and Moon, attracted by an invisible, undeniable magnetism.

“I should have imagined that you would kidnap him.” Drew’s strong Scottish accent bent his sarcastic words into a charming tone.

Valkyrie melted into a warm smile, immediately getting up to hug him. “Hi,” she let the man squeeze her between his arms as she pressed a quick kiss on his cheek as if that was supposed to make everything ok, “sorry. He didn’t mention you were waiting for him.”

“Of course, he didn’t,” Drew sent Sheamus a disappointed, sarcastic look, followed by a sharp smirk, “when it’s you he just forgets about the world.” Drew then pretended to be extremely dramatic, pushing the back of his hand on his forehead. “I am just the forgotten wife, never the chosen woman.”

“Are you done talking bullshit, man?” Sheamus chuckled, giving Drew a quick tug, pulling him close enough to pat his side.

“I promise you can take him back; we are done catching up.”

“Oh? Is that so?” Drew sent them both a look before offering her his hand, bending slightly like a true gentleman. “So why don’t we make him jealous with a dance, princess?”

“And leave him all alone here to entertain himself?”

“He’s good at that.” He whispered, sending her way a wink and a smirk that had nothing clean to them. The meaning of his words was obvious.

Valkyrie chuckled, taking then his hand, sending Sheamus a quick, playful look. “Well then,”

“Hey, where’s my dance? I was here first!”

“As usual, you’re too slow making your move, old man.”

As she giggled lightly, blowing Sheamus a kiss, she let Drew drag her to the middle of her dancefloor.

As they danced, his steps were easy to follow. He was an extremely skilled dancer and quite comfortable leading, making her accept his moves with ease. Over the classical music, it was easy to exchange some words and jokes.

It was a good moment to catch up with a friend and she appreciated the warmth and company Drew offered.

“I love that man, but he has been fucken insufferable pain in the arse for the past four weeks I swear.”

Valkyrie giggled, so clearly able to imagine Drew’s words as true. “Has he been a nightmare?”

“Yeah- think about someone unable to stay still after surgery, despite doctor’s orders, always trying to overdo it to prove he is in shape, only risking to injure himself worse. The immediate day after I found him trying to put together a set of shelves we had forgotten about for weeks – yet suddenly it was a priority.”

“Sounds like Sheamus to me.”

“That damn stubborn Irish.”

“So, what’s the situation now? I am sure if I’ll ask him, he’ll lie not to worry me.”

“He is ok now. He has been cleared to come back but he can only attend and show his face here and there for now. No fights.”

Valkyrie sent him a sceptical look, raising her eyebrow, looking back towards the Irishman still sitting at her table, enjoying looking at them from afar. “We are talking about Sheamus here.”

“Yeah, I am aware.” Drew released a sigh, rolling his eyes, badly hiding an amused smile. “Had to threaten him with the big guns.”

“Which are?”

Drew made her spin, only to wink at her once he faced her again. “If he gets into a fight, I won’t have sex with him.”

Valkyrie broke into a genuine giggle, shaking her head. “You would immediately cave.”

“You are right. Let’s hope he doesn’t know.”

Valkyrie gave him a quick pat on the shoulder. “He most definitely knows.”

As they looked back to Sheamus, Valkyrie pressed her forehead against Drew’s chin, enjoying seeing how tender and yet hot Sheamus’ gaze was on his companion.

“Guess I am fucked.” Drew revealed with a defeated sigh.

Valkyrie made him look back at her, gently pressing her hand on his cheek. “Oh, hush you. Stop pretending it would be torture.”

Valkyrie giggled loudly as Drew made her spin again. That was the moment her attention got dragged back to Sheamus, she wanted to make it clear they were talking about him only to tease him, but her warm smile got wiped off as soon as she realised he wasn’t alone anymore.

She froze as soon as she recognised the man standing in front of him. Black elegant suit, hair the colour of copper pulled back on his head and darkened by the gel, blue eyes as dangerous as sharp razors.

Dean looked like he was ready for a fight.

“Oh, God-” she whispered arresting the rhythm she and Drew were elegantly spinning around with. As soon as she saw Sheamus getting up from his seat, shoulders tensed and confrontational look, she slipped away from Drew’s arms, quickly marching towards them.

“Is that-?” The Scot began, but before he could continue, she cut short his question.

“Let’s not have our boyfriends brawl tonight, shall we? Give me a hand.”

As she instructed, Drew nodded in agreement. “Yeah, I’d really love not to vote for my abstinence so soon.”

Valkyrie ignored his joke, appreciating the fact that he kept his questions for later.

“What is your problem, big fella? Afraid of a bit of competition? You shouldn’t treat her like she is your material. That’s objectifying-”

Valkyrie sent Sheamus a quick, warning look, even if it was completely ignored by the Irishman. She wondered why did he have to be such a hothead. Not that Dean was any better, because he was ready to snap.

“I’ll fuck you up in ways that will make your mother hope she had never given birth to your sorry, ginger ass.”

Before the situation could get worse, both Valkyrie and Drew intervened.

As he slid his big hands over Sheamus’ chest, pulling him back, trying to whisper soothing things to his ear, warning him to stop, Valkyrie stepped in between them catching Dean before he could step over the edge.

She cupped his face in her palms, gently but firmly pulling him towards her. “Look at me,” as her first order was completely ignored and Dean’s blood only appeared to boil wilder, she gave him another tug, “Baby, look at me.”

The moment his crazed look slid on her, as her voice finally came through to him, Dean seemed to immediately calm down. To help it, she slid her thumbs on his cheeks. “Don’t. Please, Dean-”

He inhaled a deep breath, trying to do his best to gather control, enough to pull her hold off himself and take a step back. Now his anger was directly pointed at her. But Valkyrie didn’t let him get lost in his wild feelings. She grabbed him, pulling him away. “Come with me.”

Her tone was firm but inviting as she was determined to take him somewhere quiet where she could have explained to him the situation. She was done having secrets and misunderstandings with him. Especially for something as stupid as that situation could be.

She didn’t keep herself from sending a crossed look directly to Sheamus over Dean’s shoulder. She had a massive what the fuck printed all over her face, which brought Drew to smile on Sheamus’ face. “That wasn’t a happy bunny. You’ll definitely owe her an explanation.”

“Me?! He came for me!”

Before she could lose her patience, Valkyrie shrugged, doing her best to ignore what was going on in the background and pushing her anger and shame down, burying it inside of her just enough to get away from the public eye.

She was dealing with literal children.

Gods, why was she the one who had to go through so many curses? Wasn’t being stuck on Midgard enough?

Why would Sheamus misbehave in such a way, openly challenging Dean even knowing how short his temper was? Especially since he had already started the conversation without being amicable? Because Dean wasn’t the friendliest of people, clearly.

Surely, she would have had time to face Sheamus later, for now, she had more important things to deal with. Because she couldn’t understand Dean either.

As soon as they were alone in an empty corridor in the back of the gallery, where the lights were dimmed and it didn’t seem like that area was part of the event, Valkyrie gave him a strong push. “What the fuck, Dean?” Now she was the pissed-off one.

It was only like throwing pure fuel on a vivid flame. Dean was ready to ignite, pointing a finger to her face and grabbing her by the neck with his other hand, pushing her against the wall. “Don’t you dare. I’ve seen the way you look at him.”

That was the moment it hit her. He was jealous. She was supposed to remain angry. She was supposed to feel insulted and outraged. And yet, the way his abrupt violence underlined his possessiveness over her didn’t do any of that. It made her blood boil but with desire.

And a dark, hidden side of her only desired to push him over the edge.

She raised her chin proudly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“First, I had to watch you spend the evening next to that insignificant man. I knew something was up. I’ve seen how uncomfortable you were. And then you attacked him. I was ready to come to you, I needed to make sure you were ok. But before I could, he arrived. That Irish whoreson thought he could behave as if you belonged to him.”

His words gave her a shiver that made her entire body shake as his hold around her neck became tighter. Dean pushed his face closer to her, trying to appear dangerous. The only thing he was accomplishing was making her melt underneath his hold.

“You know how painful it was to see you flirt so openly with him when I barely got to get a direct look from you this entire week?”

He sounded so deliciously tormented it made her purr.

“Tell me how difficult it was.”

“I wanted to kill him,” Dean slid a hand through her hair, pulling her head backwards, making her bend underneath him as he towered over her, “I want to hurt anyone who looks at you with desire.”

His words ripped a moan out of her throat, only prompting him to act even more wildly.

Dean snarled into the crook of her neck, inhaling deeply her scent. Then he shook his head, trying to gather control over his own thoughts. “What are you doing to me? Do you enjoy seeing me go insane?”

Valkyrie hissed as her arms slowly turned around his shoulders. “I do.”

He seemed more than willing to give her exactly what she wished for.

Dean dawned upon her, sealing her lips with his, famished and desperate. His kiss was rude and demanding, as he pressed against her, not caring much about the condition of her dress as his hands grabbed and tugged on it.

Valkyrie grabbed the nape of his neck, looking for something solid to hold onto as she lost lucidity. Every thought in her mind was fogged up, her common sense and morale wiped out, as Dean's hands cruised across her legs, frantically pulling her skirt up.

Nothing mattered anymore if not being lost in each other's arms. Maybe to prove a point. Or maybe because that's how their nature was, impossible to keep apart.

Dean finally pushed a hand in between her legs, making her jerk and choke on her breath to that longed-for touch. He released a deep, loud, satisfied growl as his fingers met with the drenched material of her underwear.

"Is this for me? Or for him?" He wondered against her lips.

"You're such an asshole." She blurted out without even thinking. To her it was obvious her desire was only for him, the idea that he could think she wanted someone else was offensive.

But she liked teasing him too much to make sure that point was extremely clear quite yet.

Every intention of ironing out any misunderstanding was forgotten. At least for now, because she was determined to have him lose his mind completely.

And something told her she was on the right track.

"What did you just say to me?"

"You are an asshole." She challenged him, unafraid of seeing his blue eyes transform from furious to feral. His desire for her had never been hidden.

He pulled off her only to turn her and push her against the wall. He pressed himself against her back, pulling roughly her hair with one hand, unconcerned about her headpiece and even less caring to ruin her complicated hairstyle, and finding again her sweet, hot core with the other hand.

Dean made her bend against him, turning her head forcefully towards him only to press his mouth against her ear. "You don’t even know how cruel I can be," he began, "and you will beg me to forgive your disrespect."

He tugged on her hair, making her bend even more, biting down on her lower lip, and then on her neck, most definitely leaving a mark.

"Dean-" her breath was cut short as she pleaded a silent prayer to him.

As he pushed the thin material of her underwear to the side, dipping his fingers through her wet folds, she did her best to suffocate a moan.

Dean pulled a cocky, arrogant smile, looking down into her eyes, ignoring the way she clawed at him. "What is it, baby girl?"

She knew he wasn't oblivious. It was clear in the way his fingers moved, clearly aimed to give her as much pleasure as possible, following the responses of her body and the rhythm of her quickened breath.

Suffocating a louder moan, biting down on her own lip, Valkyrie felt the pressure of an orgasm already mounting inside of her but before she could enjoy feeling it grow, Dean slapped her most sensitive skin, startling her, making her jerk between his arms. Even though surprising, the quick, light shot of pain that gesture released through her carried the deeper roots of pleasure.

"Do you really think I'd let you win so easily?"

"Fuck-" She choked as he buried two fingers inside of her, stretching her out, coating his digits in her hot juices.

He growled satisfied against her ear.

Valkyrie was already willing to drop every inch of her pride, unable even to consider fighting him any longer.

"Please, I need you." She didn't even care that they were exposed in a public space. Anyone could turn the corner any minute. "Please, just fuck me."

Dean evilly chuckled at her desperate request. He pumped his fingers inside of her, finding her clit with his thumb, relentlessly set on truly torturing her with blinding pleasure.

Instead of indulging her request, he did the opposite. As soon as her pleasure rolled closer to the edge, he denied her release once more, dragging his hand away from her entirely.

Dean turned her around rudely, without finding any opposition from her whatsoever. Once he faced her a satisfied, mischievous grin appeared on his lips.

"Look at you, already in shambles," before she could say anything Dean grabbed her by the neck again, pinning her there, "such a mess. So pretty."

Making sure their eyes were locked, he slid his hand over her jaw, just to caress her lips with his thumb. "I could do what I want to you."

"Yes," she confirmed, whispering against his finger. Dean trembled, so clearly struggling to remain focused.

Again, she didn't oppose him, on the contrary, her lips were ajar and welcoming as soon as he pushed his thumb into her mouth. She sucked on it, willingly and loudly, swirling her tongue around his digit, enjoying seeing him rolling his eyes in the back of his skull as a soft moan left his chest. Pleasure clearly rolled through him as his knees seemed to become weaker.

He fed her the same medicine. Bringing his fingers to his mouth, sucking her juices off his digits, he released the most ravishing, low, moan, truly satisfied in tasting her pleasure.

"Shall I fuck you now?" He wondered pushing his thumb deeper into her mouth, "That's what you want isn't it?" He wondered, receiving only a whimper in response. His smile grew sharper. "You want me to stuff that pretty pussy with my cock?"

Now she was the one who rolled her eyes.

Valkyrie tried to touch him, feeling the desperate need to fill her hands up with the material of his suit, desiring to tug at his hair and dig her nails into his skin, but before she could, he was ready to grab her wrists in one hand, pinning them over her head, immobilising her.

"Shall I fuck you until you beg me to stop? Shall I fucking ruin your pretty pussy? Uh? Is that what you want, baby girl?"

The yes she tried to whisper was suffocated by how he grabbed at her jaw.

He acted so rudely that it only made her stomach twist, bringing her to press her thighs together trying to find any release from the weight pressing on her tired, hot flesh.

"Or I could toy with you,"

The possibility made her freeze as she gasped, looking right into his eyes. "Dean please-" She tried again only to find him grabbing her neck and stealing her breath.

"You're already begging me, that is sweet, angel. But you'll need to earn it. I am the asshole after all, right?"

A shiver crossed her from head to toe, giving her goosebumps. He wasn't wrong, she was already in shambles.

And Gods, how much did she like to be harshly handled by him. And the way he talked, so raw and wild, so honest.

He gave her a shake. "Here's what's gonna happen. I'm gonna fuck your pretty, dirty mouth.”

"Yes," she gasped, famished, already salivating. She was ready to get on her knees for him.

No other man ever had such power over her. And no other man ever will.

"Yes, what angel?" He made her lift her chin, looking down into her eyes.

“Yes, Sir.”

She had found out he liked to be addressed in such a way when he was in control. It turned him on. And so did she, as her own desire was extremely connected to his pleasure. She liked to satisfy him, giving him what he wanted, letting him take everything from her, just as much as she enjoyed when he did the same for her. It was a sweet way to make her forget about anything else and let go of every concern – as soon as she was between his arms, nothing else mattered.

“Good girl,” his praises made her stomach tremble. “Then we’ll see if you deserve to be fucked or if I shall make you wait.”

A hot shiver crossed her spine, nesting directly into her core, making it almost impossible for her to stand still. Only the idea made her tremble. She had to recollect every drop of her control not to whimper at the possibility of having to endure longer penance. Valkyrie didn’t want to risk appearing selfish.

She didn’t have much time to think about that anyways, Dean grabbed her and gave her a solid pull, making her follow him through the corridor. As if he had already mapped that place out, knowing the turns of each corridor by heart, Dean confidently pulled her around a corner and into a forgotten bathroom far away from the party enough to be considered hidden.

As he locked the door behind his back, Valkyrie moved in the small space, pretending she cared even in the slightest about what it looked like. Surely, it didn’t look at all like any public restroom. Money clearly poured through that gallery since they could afford to decorate that space as one would do in the privacy of their own house. It had several types of hand soaps and hand conditioners by the sink, plus fresh sets of towels to dry your hands with, instead of the usual paper towels or air dryer.

For a moment Valkyrie doubted that was a public restroom at all. But then she remembered she didn’t care.

Turning her attention back on Dean she found him looking at her. His eyes cruised on her figure as he slowly unbuttoned his cuffs and removed his jacket. He was looking at her like a famished animal. And Gods she was ready to feed him.

Without him having to say a word, she kneeled, patiently and quietly waiting for him to get close. Her eyes never moved from him – and she could tell he liked it.

Dean wrapped softly his fingers around her chin, keeping her still as he looked down into her eyes. He even offered a gentle, satisfied smile that made his dimples pop as his eyes glimmered full of desire.

“You are such a good girl,” he praised her softly, “so beautiful.”

She didn’t dare to move a muscle or say a word. She was only waiting for his will.

“Remember, I’ll stop any moment, you’ll just have to say the word. Got that, angel?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Although, since you won’t be able to speak, tap your hand on my left thigh three times to signal me to stop.”

She followed his words with a compliant nod, slowly raising her hands on his thighs, enjoying feeling his solid muscles under her palms more than she would have ever imagined. “Yes, Sir.”

“Good girl.” Dean gave her a fond caress around the jaw before pulling away.

He got rid of his tie and unbuttoned his black shirt, loosening it up around his neck, before undoing his belt and trousers. It was as if he was moving slowly on purpose, only to tease her.

And it was working. She was desperate.

She filled her eyes of his figure, feasting over him. He was so beautiful, so perfect, she could barely think straight. Her skin felt hot and sensitive to the point her dress was starting to chafe her. She only wanted to be naked, feeling his hands, tongue and body satisfying every drop of desire she had.

But Valkyrie also knew to be patient.

Grabbing her chin once more, Dean bent, stealing a rude kiss from her, before standing back up, starting to undo his belt and unbuttoning his trousers.

Her eyes were greedy as she followed the movements of his fingers with great expectations, knowing exactly what was to come and waiting with anticipation.

“Look at you,” As Dean began, a cocky smile printed on his lips, he pushed one of his hands over his boxers, grabbing on the bulge of his erection. The heavier breath he released made her lose her mind.

She was unashamed looking at his erection trapped in his palm and hidden behind the material of his underwear. The way she looked back up at him, eyes full of a silent plea, made him tremble. She wasn’t afraid to show just how hungry she was.

“You want it, don’t you?” The way he teased her, squeezing himself without giving her the chance to actually feast on him, made her almost snap out of it and take it. But she behaved, just submissively and quietly looking at him.

The nod that followed his question was slow and determined. “I do. Please, give it to me, baby.” She knew she was supposed to address him as Sir, but it seemed that he liked to be called baby so much he was inclined in ignoring her misbehaviour.

It actually prompted him to give her exactly what they both wanted.

“Open your mouth nice and wide for me. Let me see it.”

She did as he requested, bending underneath him, even pulling her tongue out. The moan he released in approval was enough of a reward. But was topped only by Dean finally decided to whip his cock out.

Valkyrie was on him in a second, too desperate to wait for him to make the move.

She ran her tongue on his shaft, base to tip, enjoying feeling how heavy and hot his flesh was. His skin tasted delicious. It was a prohibited and powerful flavour that made her every nerve tremble and her core ache.

She whimpered, wrapping her lips around his throbbing head, sucking on the tip of his cock as she swirled her tongue on it, enjoying immensely seeing him release a moan as he bent his head backwards.

But then, as he dipped a hand into her hair, still not caring about grabbing, pulling and ruining her hairstyle, the pace changed. He imposed her to be still as he pulled back enjoying watching down at her as his cock rested by her already puffed-up and humid lips.

A satisfied smile appeared on his lips. “I’ll fuck your throat now. Hard. Is that ok, baby girl?”

Not that she thought she actually had a choice, but Gods she wanted nothing more. As she nodded, Dean pulled her hair rudely, shaking his head. “No. Say it.”

“Fuck my dirty mouth, please.”

Her voice made him tremble, she could see it in the way his shoulders twitched and his fingers clutched her hair. He wasn’t expecting anything more than that and didn’t waste any more time playing stupid games.

Grabbing her hair to keep her steady, Dean pushed his cock into her mouth, all the way to the back of her throat, stretching her sweetly and painfully. The low, deep moan he released was music to her ears. Valkyrie had to fight against her gag reflex, as he choked her, but it wasn’t like she didn’t like it. On the contrary, her core twitched and her fingers curled around the soft material of his elegant trousers as she took every inch of him.

He gave her a few moments to get used to him, pulling in and out of her mouth regularly so she could catch her breath and learn to pace it, quickening his rhythm every time until he was fully pumping into her throat.

She didn’t even care about how messy she looked because he seemed to really like to ruffle her up. The way his turbid, hot gaze travelled across her face as she sucked on his cock was enough praising. He liked seeing her chin coated in dribble or hearing the noises she made choking on his erection and he was very vocal about it with either dirty praises or loud moans.

Dean abruptly pulled away from her, looking down. Grabbing her chin, he made her bend her head to look up at him and enjoyed watching her catch her breath.

“I want to stuff that pretty mouth of yours with my cum.” He announced. The raw power his words carried made her whimper. Valkyrie was already nodding even before she could think properly about his words.

“Look at you, so desperate and beautiful. I should have known that I only needed to shove my dick deep into your throat to shut you up.”

“Don’t forget it next time,” as she dared to challenge him, knowing exactly what she was doing, willingly teasing him being disrespectful, Dean pulled her hair, giving her a shake, making her pay for her words with a soft smack on the cheek.

“Careful, baby girl. You are so close to your reward.”

She truly weighed her options. The thought of jeopardizing her immediate future pleasure just to disrespect him some more only to push him over the edge and have him being rough was really tempting. But she decided to shut up, knowing misbehaving was funny only at the moment, but she would have most definitely cursed herself later when he would have denied her pleasure for an indefinite amount of time.

Taking his own joke literally, Dean still prevented her from even risking to say something she would have regretted pushing his cock back into her mouth. This time, he didn’t give her time to adjust and had very little care for her choking. He was selfishly focused on his own pleasure as he fucked her mouth until his own orgasm left him whimpering and shaking.

As he came, filling her mouth with his warm seed, the deep moans he released, mixed with his soft praises, was the sweetest sound she had ever heard.

Dean looked down at her, his gaze was sweet and affectionate as he dropped the act for a moment. Pulling away from her, he again made her look up at him, this time only gently pushing her chin up.

“Swallow.” He ordered softly.

Valkyrie obliged, making sure to gulp down his seed as evidently as she could, only to give him a spectacle, since he liked it so much.

The way he was looking at her was the only reward she needed.

Dean didn’t give her much time to catch her breath, he pulled her up and pushed her against the countertop, dawning upon her in a famished kiss.

“I’ll give you anything you desire, now.” He breathed heavily against her lips as he helped her hop on the edge of the counter, trying to push her skirt up as quickly as he could as if it was a matter of life and death to nest between her legs. “I can fuck you now, or we can wait to go back to the hotel, it’s up to you.”

Valkyrie's only response was a soft whimper as she let him trace her jaw with his lips, automatically bending her head to uncover her neck for him.

“I’ll give it to you hard and quick now. Or, if you wait, you can have me at your disposal all night later.”

Both his offers sounded so tremendously sweet Valkyrie didn’t even know the point of choosing.

“I want both.” It was an offer and an order. Because she wouldn’t have let him get away for either.

Her breath was hot and heavy as her words prompted him to nibble on her neck. “Someone’s hungry.” His chuckle vibrated through her skin, giving her a shiver.

Just now she realised to be finally able to push her hands into his hair, unconcerned about messing up his look.

“Just fuck me.”

“You’ve been such a good girl I will pardon your bratty impatience.”

“Dean, please,” she begged, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and her legs around his waist. He rewarded her by sliding his palms on her opened thighs, reaching dangerously close to her drenched, aching core.

“You are so cute when you beg me to fuck you. You almost make me want to keep teasing you.” To underline his words, he slid his fingers playfully over the material of her underwear, only to retract them across her legs.

Valkyrie hissed, victim of her own frustration, but before she could do anything about it, taking the situation into her own hands, Dean finally answered her prayers.

Pulling away from her, he slid her underwear off her, tracing the edges of her legs with a soft brush of his fingers. He kept that thin piece of material like a trophy, stuffing it in his pocket, as he then proceeded to rid her of her shoes too. The heels fell heavily on the floor and, as their smack echoed in the restroom, also did the relieved sigh that left her chest. Dean wasn’t done taking care of her though.

“There you go, darling.” He lulled, wrapping both his hands around her feet and ankles, one side at a time, giving them a squeeze to softly massage her tired muscles, before carefully guiding her to wrap her legs around his waist so he could go back to nesting where he was up to a moment ago.

“Thank you.” She purred, welcoming his care with a warm smile. Her hands slid across his chest, over the material of his black waistcoat, only to drag him closer to her, to trap his lips in a grateful kiss.

Dean pushed his hands up on her thighs, trying his best to make way in the layers of the voluminous skirt of her dress, even releasing a frustrated grunt himself when he realised that the dress was in the way regardless. And it was covering most of her skin.

“Fucking hate this shit. You look amazing in it, but God help me for what I’ll do to you once I’ll be able to take it off.”

An amused smile rolled on Valkyrie's lips as she pressed her shoulders against the big mirror behind her, leaning on her elbows, just so she could get a good view of him. “Didn’t think something so small could threat your patience that much.”

He replied giving her a rude pull, rolling his arm around her waist, just to hold her up as he pushed his free hand over her core. The moment his thumb found her clit moving in quick, relentless caresses, Valkyrie choked on her breath. Going from total frustration to the opposite side of the spectrum without any warning brought her quickly and violently close to the edge.

Dean enjoyed watching her unravel underneath him.

“I am not a patient man.” He grinned down at her like a hungry wolf as she moaned loudly.

As if her body was singing a song to him revealing the secrets of her pleasure, he knew exactly the moment her orgasm started to approach, so, instead of letting her cum with his fingers, he pulled away only to find the right position for his already hard, proud cock.

As he slid inside of her Valkyrie tried not to cry out his name, desperately failing. Her eyes rolled in the back of her skull, while welcoming his size stretched her, finally filling her up just as she had desired to feel for so long. A hot, heavy shiver ran across her back the moment she realised Dean had every intention to show her just how impatient he could be. He gave her no time to get used to him as he started pumping in and out of her.

“I’m going to come,” she whimpered.

Dean wrapped his free hand around her neck, giving her a squeeze, nodding looking right into her eyes. “Then do it, angel. Let go. Come all over my cock.”

His voice, the stronghold of his hand, his beautiful cock stroking her so sweetly, the way Dean looked at her with such anticipation and devotion, tipped over the edge in seconds.

“Yes, baby girl, give it to me.” His praises only helped make her more of a twitching, whimpering mess as her pleasure took over her body, blinding her. She called his name to the Gods in a blessing for Freyr, Freyja and whoever was listening.

Dean was relentless. He didn’t give her a second to rest, fucking her right through the waves of her deepest pleasure and into overstimulation, bringing her to bend and claw at his clothes as she cried her moans out loud.

“Tell me,” He bent over her as his grab around her neck became slightly tighter, “is this wet, desperate, hot mess you are all for me? Or have you been thinking about that potato eater too?”

She knew he was only teasing and yet the look she shot him was more than enough for an answer.

“All for you,” she moaned heavily as Dean let her breathe freely. “Only you.”

He pushed deeper inside of her releasing a loud grunt, his hand easily finding her hair to pull it, making her bend her head and expose her neck to him just so he could assault her sensitive skin marking her. “You are mine.”

“Yours,” she agreed, “do not forget that warrior. I want only you.”

Her words made him release a soft whimper, only prompting her to wrap her arms around him, both to hold onto his solid shoulders and to cradle him.

Her stomach twisted as another thick wave of pleasure raised through her, and Valkyrie didn’t have any shame to announce it loudly.

“Me too, baby girl. I need-”

As a moan cut through his words, she caught him, sliding a hand around his jaw she brought him to look into her eyes. “What do you need?” She caressed his lips with a soft brush of her thumb.

“I want to fill you up. I need to come in you like a fucking animal.” His voice was coarse as his breath broke, but more than that, it was his frenzied look that gave her a shiver. He wasn’t all there and his words were true desire. He wanted to mark her in the most primal way.

And may the Gods have mercy on her because she wanted him to do it so badly.

“Do it, baby.”

“But-”

She hushed him gently, shaking her head. “No. I can’t. I’m a deity, you won’t impregnate me.”

Something twitched in him as if somewhere hidden deep inside of him, that was the entire point. But that impression was gone in a second, as he dived on her for a heated kiss.

He did exactly what he desired. Took him only a few moments to push her over the edge of another orgasm and as he praised her fondly for it, he let his own pleasure flow as her core squeezed him dry. Feeling his pleasure release inside of her was a ravaging experience. It carried pure feral energy, as she realised, she wasn’t the only one being marked by him. He was hers forever now.

They remained tangled and breathless for a few seconds, as none of the two dared to move as a heavy blanket of calm draped around them.

Moving slightly, Dean was back to his sweet self as he looked into her eyes. He offered her support, helping her up. “Are you ok?”

“Never been better.” She chuckled, still needing a moment to catch her breath.

Dean made her lean against the sink as he bent over to grab a towel, never actually letting go of her. He helped her get cleaned up and then watched her closely as she decided to remove her headpiece and loosen her hair, getting rid of all the uncomfortable pins and thin bands that constricted her.

Just after, as she released a relieved sigh, Dean cupped his hands around her face, diving in for a hot kiss.

“I can’t be without you,” he whispered against her lips, “make me your secret. Keep us hidden from the world. I do not care. But you need to let me in.”

“Ok.” It was everything she offered him. And even if it seemed only a simple word, it was as sacred as a promise made in front of the Gods. “But you need to know that you’re not bound to me. I carry a heavy burden you do not need to share and the door will be open for you to leave any time if you need.”

It was so important for her to make sure he understood, even if she was far from being ready to share what was actually pressing on her chest. She was still too scared to bring him too close to danger to reveal all her secrets.

It wasn’t that she didn’t trust him. He was the only person that made her feel safe and at home in that forbidden place and she wished she could unload her pain, hiding in his arms. It was fear of losing him.

“Oh, angel. I am bound to you, body and soul.” He caressed her face so tenderly it hurt her chest, “I’d die for you. And I’d kill for you.”

She pulled him into a kiss, knowing exactly what weight his words brought. He was serious. And so was she.

“I want to go back to the hotel.”

Her whisper full of promises made a smile grow on his lips. “Let’s.”

He helped her slide back into her underwear, as his hands crossed her legs left behind the traces of a hot caress that made her stomach tremble and her filled core twitch. She was more than ready to have more of him.

Then, kneeling in front of her, he helped her wearing her heels, leaving soft kisses on her ankles and calves.

Valkyrie released a soft sigh, letting her head fall backwards. “You need to stop or I won’t let you leave this bathroom.”

“And that’s a threat how?”

She had to gather all her better judgement and self-control to just get to the door instead of pushing him to sit on the toilet and hop over his hips.

Taking only a moment to recollect herself, Valkyrie opened the door. Knowing she was walking on wobbly legs, Dean was by her side in a second, wrapping his arm around her waist.

He carried his jacket and tie on one arm, just as she carried her headpiece and purse.

They both looked a glorious mess and definitely like they were done with that gala event.

Taking advantage of the empty corridor, Dean pushed a soft kiss on her temple. “There’s not much secret to keeping if we leave together in front of that hoard of paparazzi just outside.”

“I don’t know if I care enough.”

Dean wrapped his hands around her face, kissing her forehead and then lips. “I repeat, what did you do to my Eir?”

“It’s the dress.”

They both chuckled, leaning into another soft kiss.

Their bubble had to burst sooner or later, though.

Valkyrie knew they weren’t alone even before she perceived the shadow invading the empty corridor. A frosty shiver crossed her.

Then, a burst of known laughter invaded the space, followed by a series of slow clapping.

“I didn’t know the great Valkyrie was such a slut.”

Malone stood a few metres from them, a cocky, disgusting smile printed on his face as he looked down at them, particularly at her. His contempt was so clearly printed on his face.

She had to grab Dean to keep him from immediately jumping the guy. “Dean, no. It’s not worth it.”

He wasn’t even looking at her. His dangerous, razor-sharp gaze was pointed to the man who offended her, as he was already so clearly ready for a violent fight. “Say that again, motherfucker.”

“What? That she is a whore?” As Malone openly offended her again, Valkyrie had to push solidly on Dean’s chest to keep him there. “I am surprised you pretended to be so high and mighty with me earlier. All pure and proud. Now I get it. Is it the ginger hair or them being simply scum?” A burst of evil laughter released from his chest. “I am kinda glad I’ve dodged it. God, I don’t even want to think about it. Disgusting. Getting fucked in a bathroom always tells you enough about a woman's character, uh?” It was as if he was trying to get Dean’s approval, not realising or not caring he was only increasing his blood thirst.

“What bullet did he dodge?” Dean wondered not paying attention to him.

“Oh, you think she wanted you when she fucked you? Sweet.” Malone cut through before she could even start answering. “No, no, no. She wanted me, and she knew she wasn’t at my level. Now I understand. So, that is why you refused my offer, uh?”

“You are delusional.” As she barked at him, she felt Dean freeze under her hands.

“What offer?” He asked, still only looking at her. His tone was softer as he talked to her, but the danger vibrating through his words as anger rose wild inside of him was undeniable.

“To take me back to his place. He implied-”

“I didn’t imply anything, I simply offered to show you my art collection.”

Both she and Dean ignored him, from holding him back, she started to slide her hands across his chest, bending by his side, until she reached for his hair with one hand, wrapping a finger around one of his longer locks. “And when I refused, he made it clear to me that he didn’t care much if I said no."

"Is that why you attacked him?"

"Yes. I do not condone men who think they can violate a woman's will."

"Man, don't listen to her, she is full of shit. Honestly, you're better off listening to me. And probably you might want to get checked out, who knows what kind of diseases she carries."

The dirt and the implications of his words made her stomach twist in disgust. A twitch tensed her shoulders as she felt the weight of the meaning of his intentions.

How many women did he hurt that way or worse?

He deserved to be hurt.

And she could feel Dean's anger grow and shape him into a beast.

So, she simply let go of him, sliding to the side. "Get him, baby."

If Malone didn't consider a woman able to stand for herself, he would have certainly understood the message Dean brought.

"Hey, woah, don't listen to her, she is only manipulating you, don't you see?"

"God himself could walk down here and tell me I am the new messiah but I'd still doubt it if she said otherwise."

He was on Malone in a second, grabbing him and twisting painfully his arms behind his back in a submissive pose, pushing him against the wall.

"I worship the ground she walks on. Do you understand me?" He pushed Malone against the wall. And then again, this time holding his hair, making sure to smack his face against the wall. "Do you understand what it means when I say one word from her and you're dead?"

As Dean snarled dangerously to Malone's ear, Valkyrie smiled satisfied, sliding close to him. Feeling her move by his side, Dean pulled his hair bringing him to look at her. "So, you better apologise. Profusely."

"And if I don't?"

A moment before Dean could snap and smack his face against the wall again, attempting to make some abstract work of art with his blood, Valkyrie intervened. "Dean, stop."

She only wanted to mock Malone, and as if Dean knew perfectly what she thought, he did exactly as she said.

He didn't let go of him though.

Malone sent her a quick look, even then, not hiding a cocky smile. "I knew you would come to your senses darling. See? That wasn't difficult, even for you."

"Actually," she pretended to think about it, "please, do hurt him, my love."

Dean moved immediately as soon as she spoke. It was as if her will was connected to him. He pushed Malone's face against the wall, this time slowly, squeezing against it until the man started to groan in pain.

A sadistic smile popped on Dean's lips. "More?" He asked, looking at her.

"I don't know," she tapped her index on her chin, "are you done calling me names?"

"I'm not, you fucking whore. You and your dog will regret this."

Dean punched him in the lower back twice, fast and hard. "Sorry, I don't know if I've heard you properly."

A shiver crossed her as she watched him enjoy hurting someone that disrespected her. Gods, it was inebriating. The sense of power and respect Dean's behaviour gave her was simply perfect. She felt like a queen.

Malone wheezed a slimy laughter. "Go on. I'll sue you from here to oblivion. I'll ruin you."

"Do you know who I am?"

"Oh yes, you fucking insane bastard."

A dangerous laughter vibrated through Dean's chest as he pulled the man around and wrapped both his hands around his neck. "Then you'll know I do not care about your useless threats." And he squeezed. "Disrespect my woman one more time and I swear to everything that is holy that I'll break you."

Valkyrie smiled, basking in the violence unravelling just before her eyes and in her name. She purred, sliding by Dean's side, caressing his tensed arms as she placed her chin on his shoulder, tenderly rubbing her forehead on the side of his face, like a cat, as if he wasn't in the process of choking someone.

She was deaf to the noises Malone was making, as his cries for Dean to stop were reduced to pitiful whimpers. And she was most definitely blind to his weak attempt to grab Dean's arms and fight him off.

Valkyrie moved behind Dean, wrapping her arms around his waist now pushing her face close to his neck. She lulled sweet words into his ear in her native language, praising him and her respect for his valour.

The look she slid on the man he was pinning to the wall, as their eyes crossed, was merciless and as cold as ice as her lips curled in a dangerous smile, similar to the one of a wolf.

She watched him slowly losing strength, as his face became redder and redder and his eyes more and more widened. True fear started to grow in his eyes the longer Dean's hold would became tighter.

Just when she noticed his eyelids fall heavily on his eyes, Valkyrie brushed her lips under Dean's ear. "Let him go."

Dean obeyed, immediately stepping away but still watching Malone's body heavily falling to the floor with a smile printed on his face.

The man coughed and gagged, pulling his arms to his own neck, trying to catch his breath as he pushed himself away from them as much as he could, crawling on the floor.

"Look at you, you sick fuck," Dean leaned close to him, still acting as threatening and as pissed off, "pathetic, wiggling like a worm."

Valkyrie was still close to him and casually placed a hand on his shoulder so openly displaying her closeness to Dean with no fear, despite what had just happened.

Justice was so sweet.

She let that feeling run through her, filling her up as it became the true essence of everything she was.

"Please, no more." Finally, Malone seemed to break as he begged, hiding his face from them as much as he could.

Dean grabbed him by his hair and pulled him up like he weighed nothing. "Say you're sorry, you piece of crap."

"Fine, I am sorry!"

"Not to me, you pathetic pig. To her."

A shiver crossed her back. She had lost every interest in the situation. Everything she wanted was to have Dean all to herself to thank him properly for his disposal of valour.

Nothing ever turned her on like what she had just witnessed.

It was primal and it was violent. And it was beautiful.

Despite the flaws he might have had, which she still had to meet because she didn't care if he was brutally honest or slightly rude or handsy, he was a man worthy to be called so.

Her Gods were right to smile upon him.

And he was her warrior.

That was the moment she realised she wanted him by her side forever.

"Shall I break your fucking arm to get it out of ya?"

As Dean shook the man, Malone squealed, finally looking at her. "I am sorry."

"That's not enough." Again, Dean shook him like he was nothing more but a dirty, wet piece of cloth.

"Please," Malone looked at Dean first, just to realise his mistake in time and look back at her, "I beg you to forgive me. I didn't mean to offend you."

"You are not forgiven.” She stated, raising her chin proudly. “You’ll never be forgiven for what you have done to me, or other women alike, both in less or worse degree.” Valkyrie then bent taking advantage of Dean still holding the man steady. Her look was brutally determined. “May Baldur curse your appearance. May Forseti see that justice is brought upon you. May Freyja and Freyr curse your fertility. May Frigg never let you marry. May Loki curse you. May Odin and Tyr ruin you. May Vali see that everyone you hurt is avenged. May the Norns see that your fate is ruined. And May Hel welcome you with open arms into the tormented, darkest pits of Helheim.”

To every calling to her Gods, Valkyrie drew an invisible rune on Malone’s forehead, truly hoping that her pleas would be listened to. But also, even just enjoying the pure terror in Malone’s eyes to every single one of her curses was enough to bring her satisfaction.

Finally, Valkyrie hinted to Dean to let go of the man.

She enjoyed watching him wiggle and crawl away from them, as he kept begging them for mercy, pressing himself against the wall, hiding his face on the floor, acting like a hurt insect.

Dean moved around her, going to retrieve the stuff he dropped on the floor and then he casually wrapped an arm around her shoulders, dragging her away. As if nothing happened. Definitely, a man like Malone didn’t deserve to receive any more attention.

“Remind me to never to piss you off, angel.” He chuckled to her ear, pressing a fond kiss on her forehead.

She turned towards him, pressing her smile on his chin and then reaching for a quick kiss. “You’ll just have to keep me happy and satisfied at all times, I guess.”

“I can do that.”

Valkyrie liked to nest under his arm. She liked how it felt to be so close to him. And she liked the belonging that pose implied.

“Ready to go?” She wondered looking up at him a moment before they’d turn the corner back into the more crowded side of the gallery.

“Are you?” He winked at her, offering the softest of smiles.

She got lost in his eyes for a second, unaware and unconcerned about how deep and totally on display her feelings for him were. Not that Dean did anything to hide his closeness to her either.

Her nod was quick and determined. She didn’t care anymore. And maybe it was wrong. And maybe she would have thought about it at a later date and regretted her choices, but, for now, she was done hiding.

“Let’s go, then.”