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sourcherryandsprinkles · 6 months

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Office smut where reader is Rafe's assistant and they both work at cameron developpement

I've never been a fan of these assistant/boss dynamics, but it fits for Rafe so I gave it a try...and it ended up being 2.5k

Warnings: 18+, fingering, unprotected p + v,

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

Never in your life did you imagine yourself pursuing a career in real estate, but when an opportunity to work as a personal assistant at Cameron Development practically fell into your lap, you hadn’t been able to decline.

It was a sunny day on the golf course with your father, enjoying some quality father-daughter time before the end of summer. As you both played a round, you came across one of his golf buddies — Ward Cameron. You vaguely remembered the man, having played with his kids a few times when you were little. Sarah was the one you remembered the most, she had blond hair and always talked about turtles.

Small talk flowed between your father and Mr. Cameron as they caught up on each other's lives. Then, your college studies came into the conversation. You had graduated college this spring, but hadn’t found any jobs in your field yet. Fortunately for you, Mr. Cameron informed you that there were a few jobs available at Cameron Developpement.

You weren’t interested in real estate, but working for a well reputed company could do no wrong to your curriculum vitae. So you accepted the offer, not knowing that you would be working for his son, Rafe, as his personal assistant.

You knocked on the door at the end of the hallway, announcing your presence. ‘’You wanted to see me, Mr. Cameron?’’

He looked up from the stack of documents neatly placed before him on his desk and your breath caught in your throat. Fuck me. It was a good thing you had put on lipgloss and a nice pair of heels instead of loafers because Rafe Cameron was a fine man. He looked right out of a smutty romance novel with his crisp button up and a navy blue suit jacket that brought out the color of his eyes.

‘’Yes,’’ he replied, flashing you a polite and effortlessly charming smile. ‘’First, I wanted to meet my new assistant before I hand off the work I'd rather not deal with. My father was insistent about getting me a personal assistant, but I'm actually glad he hired you.’’ His eyes followed down your body in the most subtle way, taking note of how well your skirt was hugging your hips and anticipating the even better view when he’ll watch you go.

‘’I’m glad I took the job too. Hopefully I won’t disappoint you,’’ you responded, a faint smile tugging at the corners of your lips, trying to hide everything you were feeling right now.

‘’I’m sure you won’t,’’ Rafe assured, his voice carrying a trace of amusement. ‘’Secondly, I was reviewing some paperwork, and it has come to my attention that Mr. Gilbert has not remitted his payment for the condo he recently bought. Can you give him a call and ask for payment? If he refuses to forward us the money before 4pm, we’ll cancel the sale agreement and find another prospective buyer.’’

You nodded in acknowledgment.

Calling Mr. Gilbert. That should be easy for your first task.

‘’Anything else?’’

Rafe shook his head. ‘’Not for the moment. You may leave.’’

‘’Well, Mr. Cameron.’’

His eyes lingered for a second, a hint of something more as he watched you turn to leave, a sly smirk playing on his lips.

Over the span of a few weeks, professional exchanges gradually morphed into something outside of your assigned tasks. You were still bringing him coffee whenever he asked and answering emails, but specks of flirting now laced your conversation and soon evolved with lingering glances to your chest while going over some work related paperwork.

Once in a while, he would call you into his office and scheme excuses just to look at you.

It wasn’t until that argument with his father that he — finally — made a move on you.

You came to work early that day and, on your way to your office, you had heard Mr. Cameron shout at his son for a mistake he had made concerning the company and how it was going to make a big dent in their finances to fix it. To respect their privacy and not wanting them to think you were eavesdropping, you quickly went to your workspace and started your work.

When Rafe came out of his father’s office, he saw you sitting at your desk. His chest was heaving with the intensity of the encounter, a storm brewing in his expression. You heard his office door close and, a few seconds later, an email popped on your screen.

My office. Now.

You thought he needed something, but when you stepped in, Rafe was waiting by the door and crashed his mouth on yours, giving in to the desires he’s been pushing aside since you walked in his office on your first day.

A small gasp left your lips, not expecting to be kissed by your boss on a Thursday morning. A cloud of confusion fogged your brain and you broke the kiss, trying to fight the invisible string pulling you to him.

Rafe's gaze lowered down yours, a complex blend of frustration and longing evident in his eyes.

The reason why he had never made a move on you before stemmed from a promise to his father, who had made him promise to not fool around with the personnel if he wanted to be part of Cameron Developpement. It hadn't been too difficult until now, the employees being mostly women in their thirties and up. Then, you came around and Rafe had to use a lot of self-control to not charm his way into your panties. To further complicate the situation, you were responsive to his advances and flirting.

However, after a heated exchange with his father, Rafe was in the mood to piss him off, so to hell with his stupid rules.

‘’Can I trust you that this stays between us?’’ His hands roamed across your sides, down your body, feeling what he had been staring at these past weeks.

‘’I never kiss and tell.’’

Rafe's thumb brushed the corner of your mouth, removing a smudge of lipstick. ‘’Good girl.’’

The way he said it went straight to your core, waking an ache between your legs. How could a voice have such a strong effect?

Your eyes traveled to the clock on the wall. Agnes, one of the secretaries, should arrive in twenty minutes. You knew her routine because her desk was right by the hallway leading to Rafe’s office. You also knew that she visited him every morning after checking her emails.

Your thoughts were interrupted when Rafe’s mouth found its way back on yours, his tongue slipping between your lips and he pulled you closer to him, pressing his body against yours as his other hand traveled down your legs, to the hem of your tight skirt. He caressed and grabbed one of your ass cheeks, groaning at the feeling.

Wasting no time getting undressed, Rafe hiked your skirt up, eliciting a small gasp as cool air hit your skin. ‘’Can you be quiet for me?’’ he asked, pressing against you and letting you feel the length of his hard cock against your thigh. ‘’The walls are thin and Agnes is gonna get here soon. We don’t want her to hear us, do we?’’

You shook your head. ‘’Are you gonna fuck me, Mr. Cameron?’’

Aside from one mishap, you and Rafe successfully kept your secret business from the other employees. If the whispers of your unprofessional doings in his office were to get to his father, you would both be in a lot of trouble.

‘’I have Anthony Gilbert from the construction company on the first line. He has some questions about the new condos,’’ you informed Rafe after he returned from an afternoon meeting, his tie slightly loosened.

A sigh left his mouth as he leaned back in his chair, visibly tired. ‘’Transfer him to my secretary.’’

You shifted on your heels, sensing Rafe didn’t want to speak to this man. ‘’He asked to speak to you specifically.’’

‘’Well, we can’t always get what we want,’’ he pressed. ‘’Agnes will take care of it,’’ Rafe repeated, his tone final.

You nodded. ‘’Yes, Mr. Cameron.’’

‘’Now, would you please close the door? There’s a document I would like to go over with you.’’

A document. You held a snicker and shut the door as requested.

Once you turned the lock, Rafe patted his lap and you walked around his desk. He watched you with hungry eyes, impatient to get his hands all over you. Get his cock inside you.

‘’Looking good today, babydoll. Is this new?’’ he asked, running his thumb over the neckline of your wrap dress as you seated yourself on his lap, careful to not rub the sole of your heels on his pants and leave a mark.

You hummed in response, leaning forward to expose more of your chest. ‘’Do you like it?’’

Rafe let his hand glide down, following the cut of the dress, until he reached the tie to undo it. He pulled until the knot came off, revealing your bra — a soft pink lace number that did not much other than looking pretty. A shudder left your lips as his hand cupped your breast through your bra, his thumb brushing over where he knew your nipple was.

‘’Very.’’

You carded your fingers as he mouthed at your chest and neck, careful to leave no marks behind. A sigh left your lips, wishing he would pull your bra down and just take suck on your nipple, but Rafe had other plans. While his mouth was working, one hand slipped between your thighs, seeking out your warmth, his hand pressed itself against your soaked panties.

He grinned against your skin. ‘’Would you look at that,’’ Rafe murmured, teasing you over the fabric and sending jolts of pleasure to your core. ‘’Were you thinking of me while I was at my meeting?’’ he questioned his fingers pushing your panties to the side, fingers delving into your slick, a low moan fell from your lips. ‘’Get on the desk.’’

You wordlessly climb up onto his cold desk, ignoring the papers that got scattered, leaning back with your hands to spread your legs for him. Rafe pulled your panties down your legs and discarded them in one of the drawers — a little keepsake.

He dipped two fingers between your soaked folds, causing you to moan slowly. ‘’You look so pretty spread out for me like this,’’ he muttered between you, his cock twitching in his pants and straining against the fabric. ‘’Ready for me to take.’’ His thumb grazed over your clit and a gasp fell from your lips, your hands instinctively grabbing the edge of the desk to brace yourself.

‘’I’m always ready for you,’’ you said, speaking the embarrassing truth. ‘’I’ve never wanted a cock as bad as I want yours.’’

Your words had the desired effect, making Rafe groan. ‘’Shit, babydoll. Where did you get that filthy mouth?’’

Rafe reached down and rubbed himself over his pants before deftly unbuckling his belt and unzipping his trousers. He stood from his seat, the bulge in his boxers making your mouth water and your pussy clench.

You used to feel guilty for fooling around on your work hours. It felt wrong and dishonest to your boss, but all guilt would go out the window the moment Rafe’s big cock entered you. Fuck work ethics and policies.

The rest of his clothes came off and he stood between your parted legs, one of his large hands grabbing your thigh while his other was holding his hard length at your entrance. His blue eyes gazed up at you with a mischievous glint as he rubbed his tip against your folds, making you whine with anticipation.

His teasing turned on him as you reached for his cock and wrapped your hand around its length, drawing a moan from him. ‘’Little minx.’’

You grinned, continuing your motions. Teasing could go both ways.

‘’Ahh,’’ you gasped as he pressed in, a slow delicious burn that sent a shiver down your spine as he pushed his way through your tight walls.

Rafe leaned down his forehead, pressing down onto yours and breathing you in as he rolled his hips into you. A moan spilled from your throat at the sensation, a little too loud, and he was quick to clamp his hand over your mouth to muffle any sounds, the floor still full at this hour.

To add to the noises, the desk was creaking every time Rafe was dragging his cock in and out of you. Although the angle was great, the desk might not be the quietest — unfortunately.

‘’You like that babydoll, you like when I fuck you like this?’’

You nodded, your mouth still covered.

Fuck, just like that, you wanted to scream, your back arching when he hit the right spot over and over at a toe curling pace. God, this was the best sex of your life. Some men just knows what they're doing.

The shrill of the phone echoed in the office, but you both ignored it — Agnes will answer. It was probably the man who wanted to speak to Rafe calling again.

Sorry Mr. Gilbert, Mr. Cameron is very busy fucking the life out of his personal assistant.

Your body writhed against Rafe, your hands leaving the desk to pull at his hair and grab at his arm while your heels dug into his ass. He grunted, your walls clenching around him. A few more hard thrusts and his thumb sweeping over your clit had your thighs trembling as the waves of pleasure washed over you.

Rafe continued to push into you, dragging out your orgasm as his took over, pulling out quickly and cumming on your stomach, trying to not get any drop on your dress.

You didn’t have time to get dressed or catch your breath that a knock came on the door. Momentarily forgetting you had locked it, you jumped, thinking you were going to get caught.

‘’What is it?’’ Rafe called out, trying not to sound too out of breath.

‘’I have Mr. Gilbert on the phone on line three. He’s asking to speak to you,’’ Agnes’s sweet voice said through the door. ‘’A pressing matter, he said.’’

‘’I’m unable to take the call at the moment. I’m busy going over a document for a client I’m seeing tomorrow morning. Could you please take the call for me?’’ he asked, rubbing his hands over your thighs, wishing his secretary would leave so he can get on his knees and get his mouth between your legs.

Agnes nodded although he couldn’t see her. ‘’I understand, Mr. Cameron. I'll inform him right away.’’

Rafe waited to hear clicks of her heels down the hallway to sink to his knees and get back to business. He did tell Agnes that he was working on a document, no one would question how long you were locked in his office for.

—

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#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x you #outer banks #outer banks imagine #outer banks rafe #let me know what you think

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rainbow-femme · 3 months

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Rewatching the animated Beauty and the Beast

-Right off the bat the thing in the opening that gets me is not the possible age implication but the fact that this prince is opening his own doors and to people he’s not expecting. You’re lucky it was just an enchantress looking to test the purity of your heart and not an assassin. Just power posing with the door fully open, no guards, going “Oh hey it’s someone I don’t know! I’m going to have a conversation with them alone” before god and everybody. Of course you got cursed, your guards should have rugby tackled her before she could get her wand out

-I never liked Maurice as a kid and I still don’t. Like he’s not bad he’s just annoying to me every time he’s on screen. The wind blows and he’s dying on the side of a cliff somewhere

-It is never not funny to me that Belle promises to stay in the castle forever and then just leaves three hours later

-I love Gaston having his whole “I’m going to get Belle’s father locked up so she marries me” scheme and then she’s fully just not remotely near the town. He’s living in a high stakes drama and she’s clapping along to dancing tea cups

-Hey when Maurice goes to look for Belle he grabs a bunch of rolled up pieces of paper and protractor. Is the idea that he’s just gonna invent and build something while actively walking? Sir you spent 6 hours in a dungeon and nearly died of being in a dungeon disease, you can’t help yourself out of a wet paper bag much less get your daughter out of anywhere with an invention you made out of rocks and sticks while clawing your way through the woods because you’re dying again

-But it is funny to imagine this revolving door of Maurice and Belle trading themselves for the other until the beast is just like “hey if I let you both leave will you promise to never come back”

-Belle is such a dick at the beginning it’s so funny. “Oh there’s one place in this giant castle I can’t go? I bet he’s hiding all the really cool stuff in there and I’m going to ignore his wishes and that of the staff. Oh no, consequences, the guy who said not to come here is upset I came here! Who could have foreseen this!”

-Like it’s not bad writing, it’s her character arc that she was mainly focused on herself and her interests and pretty judgemental of people who weren’t like her, so her disrespecting someone’s boundaries because she want to sets up something she grows from, and she learns to connect with someone else on their level even if that person is different from her and she learns that people are more than their surface appearance and even an angry beast has depths if you actually get to know them and see their view of the world, and connecting with people who are different from you enriches your life. Which is why when the townsfolk later try to kill the beast because he’s different we see she’s now understood the danger of that way of thinking and is horrified

-But that’s such a funny thing to do just immediately upon entering a castle owned by a big scary beast. Day one hour one she’s like “oh boy I know where I wanna go!”

-I don’t want to be a CinemaSins and point out how improbable it is that Belle got a giant unconscious beast onto her horse when he would be hundreds of pounds. But I do want to see the scene of her doing it. I’m picturing the horse sorta laying down and the beast is on the ground like a sack of potatoes and Belle has her back against him and is pushing with her legs to try and roll him over. Or she’s got her shoulder against him and is trying to push that way but her feet keep slipping in the snow

-Oh my god I forgot they told her about the library before the beast “gives” it to her. She was already allowed to go in there and knew it existed, “giving” someone a room they had full knowledge of and access to is very funny

-But you know what if he’s the kind of guy who thinks that will work and she’s the kind of girl it works on then they’re perfect for each other. Just two people with zero social skills bumbling around a castle together, making weird decisions and the other is like “wow they’re so cute and normal”

-I love the sweeping faux crane shot during the ballroom dance. Over 30 years later and that shit still slaps, more animated movies need to act like they’re being shot and edited like live action

-Maurice really can find a way to immediately die in any situation. When he’s at home he’s fine but the second he leaves the town border he develops tuberculosis and begins losing all function in his limbs

-I’m going to be honest with you guys, I’ve seen various versions of Beauty and the Beast and every time it’s the letting Belle go scene I have the same thought: I absolutely would not have read that social interaction correctly, I would have been fully under the impression we were all aware I was running an errand and coming back later. Because if I’m Belle, and I can live in the cool castle with a friend and people who are nice to me or a town I specifically stated not liking filled with a guy who is pushy and makes me uncomfortable and people who are mean to me and zero friends, I would not have been like “oh thank god I can finally go back!”

-“You should go to him. I release you, you are no longer my prisoner” See to me that reads “We are friends and I am removing this technicality between us so you can go run out and do something that is clearly important to you.” I would not have picked up on everyone in the castle thinking I was leaving forever. I’d just show up two hours later like “boy, it’s been a day, huh?” and the beast is just laying face down on the floor in his room listening to a sad boy playlist

-But the beast is clearly part dog so I guess it’s a normal reaction for him to have

-I don’t want to victim blame, but if you have a sick dad and are equidistant between “castle where everyone likes you” and “town where everyone is mean to you” and your dying father can be cured by a nap, I feel like it’s a bit on you if bad things continue to happen in the Bad Things Happen To Me town

-Not saying she should have anticipated a mob coming to incarcerate her father but I do feel like it would be expected that the people who have been mean to you and your dad would continue to be mean to you and your dad in the Everyone Is Mean To You and Your Dad town

-Because if the forced incarceration hadn’t been an issue, they would have gone to town the next day and someone would go “Hey Belle, your dad said you were kidnapped by a beast.” And everyone would point and laugh and he’d start waving his arms and going “It was the biggest beast you ever saw! 18 feet tall and claws bigger than my head!” and people would probably suggest that the guy they all call Crazy Old Maurice may be crazy and Belle would need to prove he wasn’t. I just don’t think we would have ended up with much of a different situation in any timeline that involves going back to the town

-Ok. So. If I live in a town. And I find out there is a beast within walking distance that is sentient enough to take villagers prisoner. And this guy is like “yeah he took me and my daughter prisoner, he’s terrifying!” I’m not saying I would have been part of the mob but I do think I would be worried about there being a beast and two people he previously kept prisoner living next door. And her saying “no he’s actually very sweet” would sound like those people with exotic pets who get their faces eaten by their pet tiger. Like yes they’re wrong but Belle also thought he was scary and violent until she’d been there a number of hours. I feel like if instead of giving herself up she went to town and asked for help and they created a mob to get her father back she would not have been against the idea so it’s not wholly their fault for having the same idea

-“Is it dangerous?” “No, no, he’d never hurt anyone” Every owner of a dog who wants to bite you so so bad

-So when Belle and her father are alone she is clearly telling him that the beast let her go and is kind. When asked about the beast by the town, Maurice starts yelling about how he’s the most terrifying monster in the world. Belle has to show the beast to back up her father’s claims to try and save him for the second? third? time. And then they’re locked up and she says “this is all my fault” and this man does not for a second contradict her or take blame at all. “Yeah I can’t believe you specifically caused this mess.”

“We won’t rest until he’s good and deceased.” I know there are only so many words that rhyme with beast but that’s such a funny line in a bloodlust song. I will not rest until this animal has been declared legally dead by the state

-“We will fight even though the danger just increased” I’m obsessed with all the words they had to use to rhyme with beast

-It’s so funny that this is canonically France and he is canonically a prince. They didn’t make him a duke or a lord he is directly related to the royal family and in the line of succession. Likely not the dauphin because they wouldn’t have sent him to run a castle in the countryside away from the center of politics so probably a younger son but still, this guy is part of the royal family. They didn’t have to explicitly state this is France but they do, and they reference the baroque period so it’s after the construction of Versailles. The beast is actively being stabbed to death while sentient furniture watches and at the same time his family are canonically pissing on the walls and floors of their own home

-Oh my god the beast is brooding on a chaise. Did he drag it over to the window just so he could dramatically sit on his chaise and stare longingly out at the rain? Absolute break up mood

-He’s also in a different outfit that isn’t the fancy one or his every day one, he went and changed into a breakup outfit. Important to note the breakup outfit includes a cape and what he was previously wearing did not. He chose to put on a cape as part of his breakup outfit

-So Gaston points his arrow at the beast. The beast acknowledges it then looks away. Gaston then fires and hits him and he reacts all surprised and angry that it hurt like my dude you let him shoot you with an arrow, what did you think that experience would be

-It is so wild that Gaston assumes the beast is in love with Belle. Like yeah he’s right but what a wild assumption to make when you’re not even sure this thing comprehends human speech. Again my thought would be he’s attached to her like a dog is attached to its owner, I would not see a big furry animal and be like “this thing is fully sentient and feels romantic attraction to human women”. Yeah he’s wearing clothes but still that feels like a leap. Pointing at a dog in a sweater following its owner and yelling “You’re in love with her, aren’t you?”

-The beast’s arc is partly him controlling his temper, and we see him want to kill Gaston but controls himself and lets him go, immediately resulting in his own death. Gotta be honest I feel like less self control would have been helpful in that specific scenario

-I didn’t remember the blood spray after the beast is stabbed followed by the stab wound bleeding a good amount of blood. Are there other Disney princess movies with onscreen blood? I think in Mulan we see blood oozing out through clothes from an injury but that’s the only other one I can think of. Eugene gets pretty bloodlessly stabbed

-Best scene in the movie: The beast floats up in the air, actively transforms into a human in front of Belle, stands up, says “Belle, it’s me!” She then squints at him, touches his hair a bit, squints at his face, and when she recognizes his eyes she goes “It is you!” Ma’am what the hell else did you think was happening. If you didn’t recognize his eyes would you have just been like “Hmmm I dunno…”

-Ok so at the end there is an entire royal court watching them dance. Again I don’t want to be a CinemaSins I just want to see the missing scene. Like did he explain what happened to him? If yes then again I want to see that conversation of him explaining to his family how he was literally transformed into a literal beast for the last ten years and they had no idea this was happening to their family member. If no, imagine just going back to being a prince after 10 years as a beast and you just have to pretend like everything has been normal this whole time. I want a sequel that’s just the human beast reintegrating not only back into society but French royal society, which was notorious for having some of the most intricate and complicated social etiquette in all of Europe

-The final shot is a stained glass window of them with a prominent rose. Now in the original he had a whole rose garden he was very attached to, so that makes sense. But I feel like this beast specifically would have only negative connotations with roses and that window would probably be seen as a little tasteless given the circumstances. “It’s a rose! You know, the physical manifestation of a curse that was clearly quite upsetting for you for nine years and roughly 360 days, reminding you daily of your flaws! Isn’t that fun?”

“Original score by Alan Menken” Look up his IMDB, if you live in at least the US this man has written the score to your entire life

#long post #I’ve been called out for being long winded so here is your warning #beauty and the beast #disney

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not-magdi · 5 months

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A Future with you

Summary: Talks about the future with your boy

Warnings: none ;)

Word count: 1k

A/N

I’m so so sorry I‘ve been offline for a while but school was stressful as hell 😫 But it’s getting better so hopefully I‘ll be able to update more …

Your sister Elena has recently given birth to your first niece, and you were absolutely ecstatic about it. You helped her a lot during her pregnancy due to her having many difficulties during it, where you didn't want to leave her alone. So, the wonderful sister you were, visited her nearly every day to look after her and help her with what she needs.

So when she FaceTimed you from the hospital with her newborn daughter Nora in her arms, you cried for a solid 10 minutes, getting a worried look from a very perplexed Pablo who just wanted to get himself a cool-pack for his knee.

Turning the phone around, you showed Pablo your screen, where a very tired Elena with little Nora in her arms came into view.

With wide eyes, he limped over to you to get a closer look at the infant and the new mother.

"Dios mio Elena!"

He snatched the phone out of your hand, and his face filled your sister's screen with how close he was to the screen. You laughed at him and tried to get your phone back again, though without any success.

Pablo and your sister always had a good relationship since you introduced them. So him being so excited about the arrival of your niece made your stomach feel all warm and fuzzy.

After you finally got Pablo off the phone, you decided to visit the fresh family. At first, Pablo wasn't sure about tagging along, not wanting to disrupt the intimate family moment. But after you reminded him that he basically already was family, he grabbed the little barça jersey he got for Nora and headed to the car.

You were in the hospital room for exactly ten minutes, and your ovaries couldn't take it anymore. The sight before you was god-made. Your boyfriend, sitting in one of these uncomfortable plastic chairs, your 6-hour-old niece dozing off, absolutely comfortable and safe in his arms.

"A child looks good on him", the soft voice of your sister caught you off guard. And you quickly divert your gaze from them.

"Y-yeah-but we're definitely too young for that, like way too young!"

Hearing your sister's soft giggle made your cheeks change into a deep, rosy colour.

Ever since your sister announced she was pregnant, you couldn't help but let your mind wander to what it would be like to be pregnant with Pablo's child, if it would have your eyes or his, if it is going to be as good of a futbolista as his father, and so on.

What you didn't know was. Ever since you came running into his office, nearly tripping over a vase, telling him you were going to be an aunt, he couldn't stop thinking about your future together. He already knows that you are his forever, ever since you threw a football at his face and nearly broke his nose.

But now, he couldn't stop imagining what a future with you might look like, from your new house to what pets you would have. He has everything planned in his mind.

The moment he saw you with your niece in your arms, cooing at the little bundle of energy, he couldn't help but let his mind wander to all the different scenarios of how your future could look with him.

The whole ride home was silent, not an uncomfortable kind of silence, more like a comforting and calming kind.

Pablo's head leaned against the window. He was gazing out into the dark landscape that was passing you, completely lost in his own world.

You weren't any better either, your thoughts running wild as you drove through the familiar streets to Pablo's house, which gradually became your house too, having spent more time there than anywhere else.

The living room was filled with soft noises that came out of the TV, which was playing in the background. But nobody was paying any attention to what was currently playing. Both of you too engrossed in basking in each other's presence.

The sound of Pablo's voice broke the silence you were in, "Do you ever think about the future, amor?"

Turning your head to look at him and think for a few seconds before answering.

"Yeah, sometimes … why?"

"I don't know … I just- I was just curious, I guess."

He was grateful for the dim lights, so you couldn't see his burning cheeks, as he answered your question.

Not able to hold it back any longer, you shot up to look into his eyes, "Please tell me that Nora also got you thinking about babies. Because that's all I have been thinking about for the last two days straight, and I think I'm goin-"

Pablo's laugh made you stop your rambling, to look at him with a confused expression.

"Sorry babe, but I'm just so happy that I'm not the only one who has been going crazy here. I think I planned our whole future through over the last few days."

Relieved, that you and Pablo were on the same page, when it came to your future, you cuddled yourself deeper into his embrace, careful not to hurt his knee and asked him what exactly he planned for the two of you.

With red cheeks, he started to explain to you how he wanted to have a house with a big garden so he could teach your children how to play football like his father did with him. He went on, about how he already found the perfect ring for when the time was right and how he wished that you at least have two children, a boy and a girl, like he and his sister.

It warmed your heart to hear his excitement when he explained that he already found little barça jumpers for babies and how he thinks that Fermín would be a terrible godfather.

You spent the rest of your night cuddled up together under tons of blankets and pillows, speculating about how your future will look like, a future you couldn't wait to live in.

A future with him

#pablo gavi x reader #pablo gavi oneshot #pablo gavi x you #gavi x reader #pablo gavi icons #pablo gavi x y/n #pablo gavi #gavi x you

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aspoonofsugar · 2 months

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Hi! Can you analyse "More Than Anything" from HH?

Hi!

Sure! More Than Anything is actually my favourite song of season 1! It is so sweet and very loaded thematically and character-wise!

I have briefly talked about it in this meta, but here it comes a deeper analysis!

LUCIFER AND CHARLIE: DREAMING OF LOVE

More Than Anything has two main themes that come together in Lucifer and Charlie's relationship:

Love

Dreams

The father-daughter bond is rooted in both. Specifically, they express love through dreams. Or if you prefer, they dream of love.

This is explored in the first two stanzas.

Firstly, Lucifer explains that his dreams were broken:

You didn't know that when I tried this all before My dreams were too hard to defend And in the end, I won't lose it all again

And that Charlie is now the only dream left, which is why he will protect her:

Now you're the only thing worth fighting for More than anything, more than anything I'll shelter and adore you more than anything

Charlie replies that it was Lucifer who inspired her dreams:

So in the end, it's the view I had of you That showed me dreams can be worth fighting for

And adds that her dream is for her people to be safe:

More than anything, more than anything I need to save my people more than anything

So, father and daughter are the opposite and the same.

On the one hand Lucifer believes fighting for dreams isn't worth it (my dreams were too hard to defend). On the other hand Charlie insists that it is (dreams can be worth fighting for). At the same time, Lucifer dreams of protecting (loving) Charlie, whereas Charlie dreams of protecting (loving) all her people. Desperation and microchosm vs hope and macrochosm. This is the root of Lucifer and Charlie's foiling at the beginning of the song. How does this juxtaposition develop? Let's go deeper by exploring some imagery present in the song.

LIGHT AND SHADOW

More Than Anything uses a light/shadow motif to express the two main themes:

Love (1): lights and shadows comment Lucifer and Charlie's bond. They both have been hiding parts of themselves (shadow), but throughout the song they show their true selves (light)

Dreams (2): light is a metaphor of dreams and of how the characters relate to them

1- More than Anything starts with Lucifer and Charlie distant and in the shadows.

They are repressing a lot and have no idea who the other is. Still, as the song goes on, they get to understand each other:

All that I'm hopin',now that my eyes are open Is that we can start again, not be pulled apart again 'Cause in the end, you are part of who I am

And in the end they embrace in the light.

What is initially in the shadow comes to light. So, Lucifer and Charlie see each other for who they are.

2- Lucifer mentions his past dreams and summons light. However, he throws it away because he has given up on his ideals:

Charlie hurries to pick the light up, just like she is pursuing Lucifer's discarded beliefs with her Hazbin Hotel project. Still, Lucifer stops her and holds her hands. His daughter is his new dream and he is ready to throw everything away, if he can protect her.

This resolution is highlighted in the next sequence:

Lucifer remembers the Elders of Heaven attacking him, then he imagines their weapons pointed at Charlie. Out of fear he drags her away. What's interesting is that Charlie is targeted when she stands in the light, while the moment Lucifer pulls her to safety, she steps into the shadows. The meaning is clear. Lucifer fears that if Charlie takes the spotlight, she will attract Heaven's anger. So, he wants her hidden and sheltered in the shadows. Just like a child. This is why his hug is sweet, but also suffocating:

Charlie wants a different kind of love. She needs the father who inspired her with dreams and stories. Specifically, Charlie remembers a light show Lucifer put up for her on the spot:

This scene is key and it combines the light/shadow symbolism with another motif.

THE UGLY DUCKLING

In their flashback, Lucifer tells Charlie a fairy tale by using light as a medium. The story itself is pretty obvious:

I never dreamed of so much happiness when I was the Ugly Duckling!

A little duck swims in a pool of water, but suddenly grows into a beautiful swan. Lucifer's Ugly Duckling is a metaphor of his situation, as the swan has six seraphim wings and shines at the centre of the universe. Specifically, Lucifer's fairy tale is the inversion of his own story.

Lucifer used to be a beautiful seraphim, but fell from Heaven and lost his family (the angels). He is now stuck in Hell, as a little duck:

Lucifer: Now presenting… the magic-tastical back flipping rubber duck! Haha! That spits fire!

Oh look! Lucifer himself is a magic-tastical duck, who spits fire :P

So, his fairy tale gives a happy ending to his own tragedy. It is a wish. A dream. It indirectly shows how Lucifer has been handling pain and misery by creating. It also suggests that Lucifer puts himself at the centre of his dreams. He is the ugly duckling.

At the same time, Charlie's narration tells us about herself and how she sees her father.

When I was young, I didn't really know you at all I always felt so small But I hеard your stories and I was enthralled Thе tales about your lofty dreams, I listened breathlessly Imagining it could be me

First of all, Charlie states she never knew who her father was. It is implied Lucifer kept his distance because of depression:

Charlie: We just have never been close. After he and mom split, he never really wanted to see me. He calls, sometimes, but only if he's bored or like needs me to do something.

This is highlighted in Charlie's memory too, as Lucifer appears in a dark study room. Not only that, but he is in the spotlight, while Charlie is in the shadow, which is a metaphor of how she felt distant from him:

Still, Lucifer embraces little Charlie and shows her some light. He reveals a caring and idealistic self that Charlie is initially unaware of. And this version of Lucifer inspires his daughter.

This affirms that Lucifer's dreams aren't useless. Sure, they are left unfulfilled, but they still motivate Charlie. They are why Charlie is who she is. Moreover, Charlie is enchanted by a simple story, not a big manifestation of power. It isn't a theme park or a circus or human free will. It is a short fairy tale Lucifer comes up with in a matter of seconds. No matter how small, a dream always touches dreamers.

Secondly, Charlie sees herself as the protagonist of the story. She wants to be at the centre of her father's universe and to make him proud. Well, Charlie is going to do exactly this. She is Lucifer's dream. She will fulfill his ambitions. She is turning into a beautiful swan.

Lucifer's arc starts when he understands this:

I've been dyin' to find out who you are I've been waiting, wanting the same thing Looks like the apple doesn't fall far Took you a while I've missed that smile

The King of Hell has been stuck in his own head, consumed by his depression. This is why he is initially alone and surrounded by mediocre rubber ducks. He can't create anything new because he is too focused on himself. The moment he opens his eyes and looks at Charlie, he finds hope again:

I'll support your dream, whatever lies in store And who could ask for more?

Charlie is his new dream, so he should do his best to help her become who she has the potential to be.

When Charlie is a child, Lucifer tells her a story, where he himself is the protagonist. Now that Charlie is an adult, Lucifer must accept Charlie is the protagonist of her own story. And he must help turning this story into reality. This will be his greatest creation. A duckling becoming a swan. A daughter growing-up.

PASSING THE TORCH

This frame has Lucifer:

Use his light again

Spread his wings

He starts the song by throwing his light away, but ends it by summoning a bigger and brighter torch. Similarly, he starts the episode making rubber ducks out of depression, but ends it with beautiful swan wings.

This metamorphosis happens because Lucifer isn't putting himself at the centre of the universe anymore. Rather, Charlie is his universe.

Lucifer creates a pocket-dimension, which is a bigger version of the fairy-tale of the flashback and has Charlie be its protagonist. He has her play with water, like the little duckling:

And has her fly at the centre of the scene like the swan:

In this scene, he gives her the spotlight, both in how he exits the frame and in how he has the light follow her. Charlie is the swan shining brightly at the centre of Lucifer's world (the circus).

More Than Anything starts with Lucifer desperate and focused on the microchosm. It ends with him finding hope in Charlie, who becomes the key to a bigger and more beautiful reality.

Lucifer's biggest success is that he gave birth to Charlie and showed her the light (dreams), even when he himself felt engulfed by the darkness (hell).

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel meta #lucifer morningstar #charlie morningstar #my meta #asksfullofsugar #anonymous

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sixminutestoriesblog · 11 months

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Mercy Brown: when superstitions go awry

Tuberculosis is an insidious disease that comes in quietly and sweeps away entire families, rarely content with just one or two before its run its course. This slowly dividing bacteria travels from host to host through aerosol droplets via sneezing, coughing, speaking and other airborne paths. Considering the fact that TB attacks the lungs most often, resulting in, among other things, coughing up bloody phlegm, this means its highly transmissible and yet, luckily, very slow to be caught by the average passer-by. The longer someone spends with the sick person, and the less well ventilated an area is, the more likely the disease is to pass on to the next victim. Most people that came down with TB caught it from sick family members. These days we have a vaccine against it but TB has been around for most of humanities' recorded history, with even Egyptian mummies having been found with physical evidence of it. In Victorian (and later) times the disease was referred to as 'consumption' with little understanding of its source or its cause, an unknown horror that seemed to come from nowhere, prey on an entire family or community and than vanish again just as mysteriously.

In 1883 (or 1884 or 1888 -the dates are all over the place), a woman in Exeter, Rhode Island by the name of Mary Eliza died of 'consumption'. Six months later, her oldest daughter, Mary Olive, joined her in the graveyard. The distraught husband, George, waited, one can only imagine, with terror for the rest of their children to be swept away as well but for the next several years, all was well in the family. Then, in the cold months at the end of 1891, his daughter Mercy Lena came down with consumption.

From our place, safely in the future, we can look at the case and wonder if she was exposed to a new strain that finally found a weak spot the previous one hadn't and laid claim to her. It's entirely possible however that the same bacteria that killed her mother was now killing Mercy as well. Mercy might have contracted what's known as latent TB from her mother, a case where the bacteria lies dormant in the system, the victim a benign carrier who can't infect others until something, usually an event that suppresses the immune system, triggers it into a full blow, active bought. Whatever the case, whether it was a new infection or the haunting family ghost of her mother's older one, Mercy, and her younger brother Edwin, both came down with active TB in 1891. Edwin, a teenager at the time, was sent to Colorado in the hopes it would heal him - but Mercy died in the first month of the new year, going the way of her mother and older sister before her to the grave. She was only 19.

The story should have stopped there.

I wouldn't be writing about this if it had.

Edwin returned from Colorado and his health continued to decline. Soon, if nothing changed, he would follow the majority of his family into the grave. The neighbors had a plan though. They just needed his father's permission.

What they proposed was that an evil entity was draining the life of the Brown family, picking them off one at a time and returning for each new victim. The evil that was killing the family - was a member of the family.

Here's where we get into the superstition part of things. If you read articles online about Mercy Brown you'll find the word 'vampire' thrown around a lot. It was the word used in the newspapers of the time, that caught wind of what the neighbors planned, and its also modern culture, thanks in large part to Bram Stroker's Dracula (there is speculation that his character of Lucy might have had its roots in stories he'd read about Mercy in the newspapers of his time. Dracula, remember, was published in 1897). A dark force, rising from the grave to suck the life out of its victims. Well, yes - and no. Modern vampires, the way we collectively view them now, with fangs and a hunger for blood, creeping around through windows and walking among us on our crowded nighttime streets is a new reskinning. During Mercy's time, and much much further back than that, the 'vampire' associated with disease like TB was much more nebulous. For many cultures, what was rising out of the grave to drain the life from its own family had more resemblance to an angry or hungry ghost, than a walking, talking monster. A distinction that, realistically, has no bearing on the end result but, metaphysically, the story changes. It becomes something personal, to the victim and the neighbors around the family, someone they knew in life, someone they watched die. It's the sorrow and the potential rage and absolutely the confusion of why it happened in the first place, rising like fog from the grave to whisper across the landscape, trying to take what it once had back to the cold of its tomb with it. It's the familiar knock of a friend at the door when the friend isn't there anymore. It's the smile you knew all the nineteen years of its life on the other side of the window on a moonless night. When the neighbors wanted to dig up Eliza, Olive and Mercy, there was the quiet whisper that traced back through a thousand ancestors into the far past of humanity that murmured that love doesn't die when the body does - and that that's terrifying, not comforting.

George, with his son dying, agreed to let the neighbors go digging up his family. Maybe he believed them, some accounts say he didn't, but whatever the case, he let them pull up the bodies of his dead loved ones out of their cold graves in the late winter and lay them out right there for testing. Mary Eliza and Mary Olive were safe. They were too rotted to be the hungry ghost that was trying to take young Edwin with it. Mercy however - Mercy, according to the reporter that was onsite to record all of this, looked far too fresh to be a two month old corpse. Her hair and nails had grown, her body looked unblemished, reports said her body had shifted since it had been laid out and, most damning of all, when her chest was cut open by the local doctor, her organs were found to still have blood in them. It wasn't important that Mercy's body had been in the ground during some of the coldest, and therefor most preserving, months of the year. They certainly didn't know about the buildup of gas in a body that can make it move or the way the skin shrinks and pulls back from nails and hair, making them seem to grow. No. What they saw was that Mercy wasn't content to travel into death alone. She wanted her baby brother to go with her.

So they burned her heart on a stone in the graveyard, put the ashes in a drink and had Edwin chug it down. In a move that dates back to, at least, Achilles desecrating Hector's body in the Iliad, you rob a ghost of its power by mangling the body that ties it to both this world, and its recognizable identity.

It didn't work. Within two months, Edwin was dead as well. The story however, lived on. Perhaps in Stoker's Dracula and certainly in the papers of the day. Mercy was, perhaps, the last body dug up in New England and given the 'vampire' treatment. She wasn't the only one however. There are at least six other recorded, and possibly other unmarked, instances during what came to be known as the New England Vampire Panic that swept the upper US during the 1800s. Mercy, at this point, seems to be the last, coming in on the tail end of the old century and the beginning of the new. A last flicker of the old superstitions dying out in the face of rising science.

#mercy brown #vampire #superstition #folklore #Dracula daily #Dracula #bram stoker #new england vampire panic #american folklore #american vampire

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mylordshesacactus · 5 months

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Suncrest Campaign: Coda (Or: The Bugbear Wedding)

(Listen. Everyone in this campaign gets to craft their perfect ending and epilogue--this one, this last little bit of worldbuilding and giving everyone a vignette to close out on, was my parting gift to myself.)

First and foremost, it's important to establish: The bugbear wedding ceremony is genderless.

The roles are not bride/groom, male/female. Bugbear culture is pretty universally military, or military-adjacent, in a way that largely elides those kinds of strict gender roles. The core concern in a bugbear wedding is the blending of clans, of families or villages, and that can happen in any number of ways.

In a bugbear wedding, the stark thematic divide is which partner belongs to the "host" clan, and which is the newcomer. In a very real sense, nothing else matters. And...not necessarily in the way you think.

When we open on this ceremony: Thesh Nightshadow, daughter of the clan chieftain, is dressed in her full ceremonial armor and looking both elated and terrified. She checks in with the party, briefly, then goes to wait beside a massive, laden banquet table.

This table is both the central display of the wedding, and an eloquent thesis on how bugbears view a marriage.

Thesh, in this marriage, is the host clan. She grew up in the Talonholde clan; her father is its leader; she stands to inherit that position. Her friends and rivals and neighbors are all here--they all know her, they all have twenty-odd years of memories together, favors traded, arguments resolved. A history and a mutual understanding of one another, even if they don't necessarily like each other.

Paisley, on the other hand? Even if she wasn't human...she grew up in the neighboring village of Thistledale, and while of course she'll remain in close contact with her family, she's obviously going to be joining the clan of the chieftain's daughter.

Bugbears understand: This places the newcomer in a position of incredible vulnerability.

Paise is very familiar with Talonholde, but in a lot of marriages the incoming partner won't have had time to do that, just for pure practicality reasons. And even so...she loves the place, they accept her, she feels safe, but she doesn't have nearly the same level of...connection. She wasn't born here. Her new neighbors haven't seen her at her best and worst for years, enough to feel secure in knowing her character. She knows few of them very well, and none of them as well as her own people. She is leaving her family home for this marriage, and all she has in return is pure trust that her new clan will protect her as well as her old one would have.

To bugbear sensibilities, the idea of a dowry is obscene. You are asking for this immense sacrifice, this profound leap of faith--and you have the gall to ask them to prove themselves? To contribute material wealth and resources? That's disgusting. That's horrific. That's not a marriage. That kind of callous trade would be demeaning to cattle.

It is the host clan's responsibility to prove their worth. It is one hundred percent on Thesh's shoulders to show her new wife that she will be accepted and embraced by her new clan.

Thus: The table.

Now, Thesh herself is obviously in a position of considerable influence, so her display table is a massive buffet in the center of the village, laden with every possible food and drink imaginable and a gorgeously posed roast stag, with antlers intact for dramatic effect, as the centerpiece--a stag she hunted herself, because this is as much a statement to her home clan as it is to her wife. However, prominently featured among the feast--brought to the front and present in great numbers, so everyone can clearly see it, are five items:

Bread

Fruit

Cheese

Mead and/or Wine

Freshly-slaughtered meat, with a bowl containing the blood of the animal as proof.

Those five items are required for the marriage ceremony. Combined, they represent all the collective resources of a village--none of which should be so punishing that a poor family is unable to source them for a special occasion, but representing a real investment all the same. The requirement isn't meant to be a class barrier--the items can be present in small amounts, the fruit can be preserved, the mead can be in the form of raw honey if you really must--but you need to be able to demonstrate a willingness to try.

(The meat MUST be fresh. It does not have to be something as dramatic as a deer. Most families kill a goat or a pig, or put out a snare for rabbit. What is required for the marriage to be considered valid is that it cannot be smoked, dried, salted, etc--it must be a current, intentional sacrifice of livestock (demonstrating your willingness to give up something valuable for this person's sake) or freshly-hunted game (demonstrating your ability to either hunt yourself or purchase/barter game from a hunter). This, again, isn't meant to be a class barrier--but in addition to bugbear tradition demanding a willingness to make real sacrifice in the newcomer's name, the blood is used in the ceremony itself.)

A horn is blown or a drum is beaten, the gates of the village (or, if this were a smaller private ceremony, the gate of the farm or some other boundary-line delineation of a family's property) open, and the new clan member enters.

Paisley is also dressed in her best--an apprentice's tunic from the university where she studied to become an Artificer--but otherwise, she carries nothing. No entourage (her family and friends are obviously present but they don't walk in with her), no offerings--just a woven basket filled with wildflowers, matching the flowers woven into her cloak for the occasion.

(Traditionally it's a very literal "cloak of flowers", woven entirely from intertwined wildflower stems, but that is insanely difficult and pretty much everyone just weaves flowers into a canvas base.)

This, too, is symbolic: The newcomer brings only themselves, and that which can be gathered freely. Paisley has nothing to prove.

They meet in front of the banquet table where Thesh is waiting with a village elder, and the bowl of blood over a low brazier--not hot, just enough to keep it liquid.

The host clan's gestures are made first--three promises, an oath of what they intend to offer their newest member. The bugbear elder dips his fingers in the stag's blood; he draws two fingers down Paisley's forehead (for honesty), then dips his thumb and makes a single mark in the center of chin (for stability). He then offers the bowl to Thesh, who dips both thumbs in the blood and draws them along Paisley's cheekbones, cupping her face in the process--protection.

Paisley's gestures are made if and only if she accepts the host clan's demonstrations as legitimate and sufficient. Obviously, she does.

She hands her basket to the elder, and takes out her own gestures in order. First, a necklace of flowers that she places around Thesh's neck (new life). Second, a woven flower crown on her head (new ideas). And then, finally, she sweeps the flower cape off her back and throws it around Thesh's shoulders instead--this often gets some laughter because throughout the whole process, Thesh hasn't actually stopped holding Paise's face between her hands, so it can be a little awkward.

That last gesture symbolizes Paisley fully embracing her new clan--she's not expected to sever any ties, of course, but it's a transfer of primary loyalty. Talonholde is her clan now, fully and completely--they've embraced her as their own and offered her not only the rights of a member but also the acceptance and support of a neighbor, and in turn, she's offered them herself in her entirety.

There is then, obviously, a lot of crying and a big feast, all that food wasn't for show.

Paise and Thesh's little background romance was lowkey one of my favorite things to seed into this campaign--as soon as I realized Nim's sister was going to be central to the werewolf arc, I also knew I had to give her a dykey little interspecies romance. (There was initially going to be a like, paranoid little mutual-suspicion thing going on where Talonholde and Thistledale both accused each other of kidnapping or murder, but by that point I knew my players wouldn't bite on that at all and it was more interesting to have the two villages be historically cordial--not friendly, but not hostile.)

They were both taken by the wolf cult during a gay little meeting at the crossroads between their villages, a thing they apparently did almost every week to exchange the letters they'd write during the week. Nim's family presented this as, you know, Paise being a smart girl and Thesh also being real smart and they share a lot of wild ideas, but the whole party immediately went OH??? and they were correct.

When they found the girls, Thesh was half dead--when the werewolves took Paisley to torture as bait, Thesh tried to protect her. They broke her jaw and left it untreated for days; without Andromeda's timely healing magic, she likely wouldn't have survived another night. The party got everyone out of the camp safely--some by the skin of their teeth, but they did it--and, well.

Look, they were the very image of propriety when they reunited, okay. But Thesh dragging herself back from death's door and IMMEDIATELY trying to tell their rescuers that the cult had taken Paisley--refusing to run until she knew she was safe, in fact--was pretty telling. And then when they got everyone back to Albion's thicket Paise basically ignored her rescued neighbors in favor of scrambling up to Thesh and running frantic hands over her jaw and ears and ribs and--

Nim thinks they're adorable and is fully supportive. He DOES have to rib his baby sister a little bit though. Big brother instinct goes both ways.

#d&d #suncrest

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thebetawolfgirl · 5 months

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Bonding Time pt9

Pairing: Timmy x Reader

Warnings: Smut, Smut and then some more smut!

A/N: A bit later than I wanted to post it, but it’s been nonstop today!

Bonding Time part 9

Y/n looked at her outfit in the mirror and sighed as Timmy watched from the bed, she quickly stripped and tossed the dress aside grabbing another one.

‘Baby, you’ve tried eight dresses on so far, just pick one. You will look beautiful no matter what you wear.’

‘I don’t actually know why I’m so stressed out about this. We’ve met with mom’s friends hundreds of times-‘

‘But not as a couple, last time you saw them we were at each other’s throats, literally. Anyway, who cares what your mom’s friends think? None of them can judge.’

‘One of them is Sarah’s mother, Timmy! And Stacey’s mom will be there too you know.’

Timmy rolled his eyes lighting a cigarette. ‘Imagine my fear! I broke it off with Stacey weeks ago. She’ll be with her next plaything already. Not my problem if she hasn’t told her mother yet.’

Y/n finally settled on a blood red halter dress and walked over to him pinching his smoke and putting it out, before he pulled her on top of him kissing her.

‘That’s a lovely dress did someone buy it for you?’ He asked smirking wrapping his arms around her.

She smirked back. ‘Yes my boyfriend did.’

‘Ahh he has good taste.’ He smiled and sat up with her on his lap and wrapped his arms around her waist.

‘We do this today and that’s us. We’re done with the sneaking around and keeping secrets, we can be ourselves.’

‘That will be nice. Just Sarah to deal with then.’

She played with the buttons of his shirt watching him as he rolled his eyes.

‘Fuck her, she’s insignificant now. If she has an issue after all this time she can complain about it to her therapist. And none of that family can judge, her mother was her father’s apprentice and young assistant who he knocked up while he was still married to his first wife.’

Y/n sighed nodding and pecked his lips gently smiling before moving off him.

‘We need to get going, we don’t want to be late.’

‘I’m going to show you off to everyone. I don’t give a fuck who doesn’t like it. All those old ladies can all go to hell. Except Elaine, of course.’ He smiled standing up and kissed her hand.

She smiled back and left the apartment together.

When they arrived at the restaurant everyone was already seated and were waiting for them before ordering, y/n saw Sarah and Emma were both there and chose to ignore her and squeezed Timmy’s hand for support.

She knew he was curious as to why they were both there but Stacey was nowhere to be seen.

Y/n also knew that Timmy would now be full on with his affection just to rub it in Sarah’s face and she had no issue with that.

Y/n looked around at the surprised faces of her mother’s friends and smiled.

‘Are we ordering then? I’m starving!’

She states grabbing a menu and sharing it with Timmy.

‘Is that all you have to say?’ Sarah blurted out.

‘Are you really going to make a scene, therefore embarrassing your mother in front of all her friends in the middle of a busy restaurant Sarah?’

Sarah stopped and looked over at her mother who was glaring. Y/n leaned over to Sarah’s mother smiling ‘By the way Mrs Winston, I forgot to say when I came in, I love your stole, is it new?’

‘Oh yes, thank you dear for noticing. Mr Winston bought it for me while he was in Italy last month.’

‘It’s so beautiful. It’s so lovely to have someone who spoils you with such wonderful gifts isn’t it?’

She looks over smiling at Timmy, ‘Timmy is always spoiling with lovely things, just last week he surprised me by taking me on a boat ride, with a beautiful view of the entire city. Then we had a picnic in Central park. He’s always doing things like that for me.’

‘Well that’s all that matters y/n, finding someone who cherishes and respects you and treats you like royalty is very important.’ Mrs Winston smiled and patted y/n’s hand as her daughter looked on shocked ‘Mom their parents are MARRIED! It’s wrong!’

‘Love is wrong, Sarah?’ She challenged her daughter with a raised eyebrow.

‘You know, dear if you spent a little less time being so interested in everyone else’s business and began living your own life, you could find a love like theirs. You could find a little bit of happiness of your own.’

Sarah looked down and crossed her arms across her chest now in a huff.

Y/n rolled her eyes at her friend’s childishness and immaturity as the food was set down in front of them.

The fact that Mrs Winston who was the most judgemental woman in her mother’s circle was accepting of them was a huge thing, so y/n relaxed and enjoyed her meal.

Timmy lay his hand on y/n’s leg when the first course was finished and raised it up higher slightly under the hem of her dress.

‘Forgive me, but can someone show me to the little boy’s room?’

Y/n wiped her mouth with her napkin and stood up,

‘I’ll show you, I need to reapply my lipstick anyway.’

She smiled at everyone as she led Timmy to the restrooms, but he grabbed her hand and pulled her into another room off to the side and shoved her against the wall attacking her neck and slid his fingers up her dress.

She gasped loudly and wrapped her arms around his shoulders before pulling him up crushing her lips against his in a hungry kiss, he ran his hands up her thighs and grabbed her ass before pulling her underwear off her as she worked on undoing his belt and pants and shoving them down his legs as he picked her up by her thighs and carried her over to a nearby desk making sure not to trip over his pants around his ankles and lay her down breaking the kiss before burying himself balls deep into her already soaking folds.

She gasps and bit her lip to keep from screaming and dug her nails into the desk underneath her, as she felt him going deep repeatedly driving into her hard enough her entire body rocked against his thrusts.

‘T-Timmy don’t s-stop!’ She stammered panting. She reached up and grabbed his shirt pulling him down and kissed him hard as he tucked his arm under her back and ground his hips against hers before pulling her up to sit on the edge of the desk and grabbed her hips as she wrapped her arms around his neck as he moved his mouth down her throat pulling her closer against him as he continued to slam his dick into her over and over again.

They fell back together against the table with a dull thud and came in a powerful orgasm together clinging to each other as he buried his face against her neck his hot breath panting against her skin. He lightly dragged his nails down her back leaving light scratch marks on her skin.

She slid her hand up his back under his shirt feeling the damp skin and droplets of sweat rolling down, he hissed against her ear and trails his tongue up her neck before nipping the shell of her ear. She shivered against him catching her breath and wrapped her legs around his waist resting her feet against the edge of the desk as he left wet open mouth kissed along her jaw before reaching her lips and pushed his tongue inside her mouth.

She gripped his jaw and returned the kiss hungrily, running her fingers through his curls.

They broke apart and he helped her up and off the desk before fixing himself quickly, as she fixed her make up and hair, she was looking for her underwear when she saw him with them in his mouth between his teeth looking at her with her devilish gleam in his eye.

She walked over and tried to grab them back but he moved his head away and instead shoved them in his back pocket smirking.

‘You can’t be serious? Timmy give them to me.’ She looked at him shocked as he walked towards the door, she followed him and caught up with him before he could reach for the handle and blocked the door before grabbing him opening his top button and biting down hard on his skin near his collarbone, making him hiss and release a squeak of surprise before he fell against her his forehead against the door behind her as she continued to leave her mark on him.

She was going to be the death of him, he was now completely convinced of it. She was the only woman in this world who could bite him and he became a puddle worth absolutely nothing. She was more addicting than an Class A drug.

In fact who needed Heroin when she bit him that way, she turned his head and kissed him firmly.

She pulled away and opened the door smirking before turning away as he fixed his collar with trembling hands and followed her fixing his hair.

They returned to the table and no one was none the wiser about where they were. In fact when Timmy sat down the women were talking about the latest fashion on the rails right now and Sarah must’ve left early.

Afterwards when they were heading home Timmy wanted to take her back to his where they would have no unwanted visitors and he could have her all to himself tonight.

‘Ok, it would be actually nice to be together without people letting themselves into my apartment as if they live there.’

So they went to his apartment and the moment he got in he had her over his shoulder and carrying her to the bedroom. ‘I want you again!’

He tossed her onto the bed and flipped her onto her stomach and untied her dress from the back before leaning down and biting her shoulder blade making her gasp, she sat up and turned to him grabbing his shirt ripping it open hearing the buttons tear of and scatter everywhere. He grabbed her by her throat before tossing her backwards and removed her dress in one sweep throwing it on the floor and undressed himself, climbing over her.

She ran her fingers up his chest lightly coming to his bite mark and pressing her fingertip against it firmly, making him hiss before pushing into her slowly, making her eyes roll back. He groaned watching her come undone, and began thrusting into her as she reached for him to hold him against her. He melted into her arms his breathing becoming laboured as she held onto him while he thrust into her.

She gasps audibly against his shoulder as she ran her hands down his sides and gripped his hips to signal him to go harder.

She gripped his hips digging her nails into his flesh as he rut in harder than ever, burying his face further against her neck. She knew his waist and hips would be covered in bruises from her fingertips but she had never had him go this deep or hard before.

She ran her hands up his back and dug her nails into his skin scratching him as she panted against his shoulder before leaning down and ran her tongue over his bite mark and he groaned against her and slammed faster into her before grabbing her waist shoving her further up the mattress and flipping them pulling her on top of him without pulling out of her and made her ride him.

She pushed her hands against his chest and rocked against him hard causing the bed to rock against the back wall, as he gripped her waist tightly groaning before he pulled her down and kissed her hard as she rode him as hard as she could.

This was the second time they had gone this intense before, Timmy had rode her so hard today people would definitely see her nail marks on that desk, now she was riding him into the mattress where the bed was moving on it’s own and they both knew the wall behind the bed would be chipped and/or scraped.

It was the fact that people knew now, they wouldn’t need to hide anymore and they could walk around like a proper couple that got them crazy. They came in another earth shattering orgasm panting each other’s names over and over, her hair was sticking to her skin as they tried to catch their breathes, he pulled her up against him and bit down on her neck hard hearing her gasp audibly and grip his hair.

‘Argh! T-Tim.’ He flipped them onto their side and sucked her neck hard making sure to leave a mark, before letting go and kissing up her jawline as she ran her fingers through his curls massaging his scalp, causing him to nuzzle her neck.

‘Y/n.’ He whispers her name like a prayer as he rubs his hands over her back, she pulls on his curls gently causing him to moan her name again. They pulled apart slightly and looked at each other in the dark bedroom before he rolled them letting her lay on her stomach and crawling to lay on her back and wrapped his arms around her waist.

Everyone knew now. Well everyone that was important. They no longer needed to hide. Both their parents new, y/n’s mother’s friends knew, they hadn’t heard anything from Emma but they weren’t too worried about it. Sarah didn’t approve still but they didn’t care about her.

Now it was their own friends group, all they had to do was go ‘public’ so to speak. But this was a whole new adventure they couldn’t wait to explore together.

@sufferingstarlight

@gatoenlaciudad

@kteezy997

@lixzey

@tchalamss

@mel-vaz

#lil timmy tim #timothèe chalamet #timothée hal chalamet #timmy x reader #timothee chalamet smut #timothee icons #timmy fanfics #smut smut smut

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talesfromawannabejournalist · 24 days

Text

More than Anything

Adam: LUTE PLEASE!!! You don’t understand, You can’t go the Heavenly council about this, they don’t listen they never listen

Lute: We don’t know that for sure!

Adam: YOU don’t know that, but I do!

Adam turns away from Lute so his daughter won’t see his tears

Adam: You didn’t know back in Eden, I tried it all before, but I just couldn’t defend him, and in the end, I can’t lose it all again.

Adam looks at Lute as intrusive thoughts make him see Lute impaled by angelic steel holding it is Lilith with her wicked smile. Gently he takes Lute into her arms while wrapping his wings around her in a protective hold

Adam: Now you’re one of the few worth fighting for! More than anything, more than anything! I’ll shelter and adore you more than anything.

Lute sighs as she slowly moves away and looks Adam right in the eye

Lute: Adam, I don’t need you to protect me, if anything I’m the one who needs to protect YOU!

Adam: I, I just can’t see you hurt like…like I was

Lute: Dad, back then I didn’t really know you at all

flash back showing a younger Lute back in Heaven looking curiously at Adam who was gardening in his own personal spot

Lute: I always felt so small

Adam noticing her gives her a warm smile as he beckons her over. Lute looks unsure at first but then makes her way over to him and takes a knee at his side

Lute: but I heard the stories back on Earth and I was enthralled

Adam shows her the plant he’s tending to as he reminisces oh how he and his family used to harvest these specific ones as offerings to the Angels

Lute: The tales about your memories I listen breathlessly, imagine they could be with me

Lute suddenly sees herself on Earth with Adam doing all those chores with him, him picking her up, holding her if she got hurt, covering her with hugs and affection like he did with his kids. Blushing she shakes herself away from those soft weak thoughts. Suddenly Lilith appears and harshly grabs Adam by the arm taking him away

Lute: so, in the end it’s the view I had of you that showed me love was worth fighting for!

Lute looks conflicted but Adam shakes his head and gives her a reassuring smile before he and Lilith were out of sight leaving the angelic soldier alone with her thoughts.

Lute: more than anything, more than anything! I need to protect this family more than anything!

Adam feels fresh tears start to sting his eyes over the fact that he sees the both of them as family, but this time their tears of happiness.

Adam: It was so amazing to get to know who you are.

Lute: I feel the same way

Adam: the apple sure doesn’t fall far..

Lute playfully puts a hand on her hip while rolling her eyes

Lute: took you a while

Adam: there’s that smile.

Adam and Lute: all that I’m hoping, now that my eyes are open, is that we can start again, never be pulled apart again!

Both father and daughter take each others hands as their wings unfurl as they take to the sky

Adam and Lute: So, in the end you helped me make me who I am!

Adam: I’ll support your dreams whatever lies in store!

Lute feels tears of happiness form in her eyes.

Lute: And who could ask for more?

Adam and Lute: More than anything, more than anything, more than anything, I’m grateful you're my father/daughter more than anything!!!

gently the two fall gracefully on the ground wrapped in a tight embrace.

Adam and Lute: more than anything .

#Adam dies au #For Libby-for-life #Lute #Adam #mentioned Lilith #Mentioned abuse

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bumblingbabooshka · 5 months

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You want Tuvok asks?? Okay, I'll send some from time to time now lol

Can I have some uhhh Tuvok & Kes mentoring relationship analysis and maybe hcs?

Personally, I think... we all know Kes sees parts of her father in Tuvok etc right but hc that Tuvok also sees parts of Asil in Kes? Anyway, your turn. Don't worry about writing "too much", no such thing when it comes to you!!

YEAAAH TUVOK ASK!!! I hide it well so few people know this but I actually like Tuvok quite a bit so this ask was very much welcome, thank you!! <3

KES!!!! Tuvok's one true daughter (other than Asil, his actual one true daughter) in my mind!!!! I wish more of the show actually showed their mentorship. Like him and Kes on an away mission or there being a 'student becomes the teacher' moment as her powers grow. I imagine a scene where Kes teaches a patient who's in pain a breathing technique to calm him down as she bandages him up and revealing that Tuvok taught her that technique! I also like the thought of aliens mistaking them for being the same species due to their pointed ears and telepathic abilities. The Kes-Tuvok dynamic also provides more opportunities to learn about their families and upbringings and values since they both seem like fairly introspective people. I can imagine Kes earnestly wanting to learn about and engage with Vulcan culture. That's a similarity between her and Neelix, a fascination with others, but Kes is calmer and Tuvok would be more open to talking with her about it because he knows she's not gonna make a big fuss, hehehe~ I would put a scene in the Elogium episode where she talked to Tuvok about it and he mentioned (obliquely) the pon farr and tried to comfort her. (She promises to keep this a secret - it's not to be spoken about!) There'd also be some little tidbits about his kids...hate that the only thing we really know about them is that there are four, Sek studies music and they were "well behaved" as children. And that last bit might be an exaggeration on Tuvok's part. I wish Kes was just in general more part of the crew. She's really only ever seen in sickbay even though she was introduced as very adventurous and curious and wanting to "peer into every crack in the universe". I can imagine a scene where Kes is doing something dangerous and Tuvok's watching her and Janeway's like "haha it's nervewracking, sitting back and doing nothing isn't it?" and Tuvok's like "I have no nerves to 'wrack', captain but this experience is....familiar." <- Sometimes you have to watch your kids fuck around so they can find out Episode where Kes & Tuvok are able to telepathically communicate despite being in completely different areas of the ship and so are able to coordinate and fight back against some invading aliens. I'd add a continuing subplot between Harry & Kes where they are like the unofficial/official proteges of Janeway and Tuvok respectively and playfully tease each other or argue about it. Secretly competitive A+ students though they're motivated by different things. Kes by her curiosity and Harry by a desire to prove himself.

I can imagine them having a moment where they talk about the weirdness of aging differently from everyone else. <- Episode where Kes is frustrated with everyone treating her like a kid. Tuvok doesn't experience this of course but I do wonder about a Vulcan's view on aging while surrounded by people who are both significantly younger than you but also your peers? This conversation veers quickly into death and loss. Kes who will die naturally long before anyone else and Tuvok who will die naturally long after everyone else. Scene where Kes tries to get the doctor to meditate (comedy) Scene where Kes learns how to telepathically shift the air so that she can hover above the ground. (comedy, it's not very useful except if they need to scout something she can slowly 'fly' high enough to see it but it takes SO much energy.) I can imagine Tuvok seeing a lot of his own children in Kes. I imagine having to teach your children how to use their telepathic powers is a near lifelong process for a Vulcan which he relives in his formal mentorship with Kes. Kes tells Janeway that Tuvok is "devoted to" T'Pel which makes me imagine him talking to Kes about her...showing how close they are, that he trusts her with that information and feels comfortable talking about his family to her...or that Kes is observant enough to pick up on the devotion he feels even though he doesn't divulge much. Waaa. Headcanon that Tuvok keeps a candle burning for Kes even several years after her departure and thinks about her often, the same way he thinks of his family. Headcanon that very occasionally Tuvok will be able to 'feel' Kes' presence. (Usually when he's alone) He attempts at times to communicate with her if she is 'around' long enough but whatever he gets in return he is not able to parse. He wonders if he ever will be. He's grateful that she tries regardless. One time he feels it when with Neelix is able to perform a sort of double telepathic telephone where Neelix can receive the message as well: He is similarly unable to parse it but he cries tears of joy anyway. Tuvok doesn't understand why but Neelix says it's ok so fine. Tuvok is the only person besides the doctor who Kes can talk about her weird medical dead people surgery stuff with!! (He isn't particularly eager but he's not gonna turn her away). There's awkwardness between them after the Tuvix situation (Because Tuvix was attracted to her) but they clear it up (Tuvok is not attracted to her) and everything's fine again. Kes teaches Tuvok how to sew. Tuvok later uses this to mend Naomi's flotter doll and also create a parachute during some sort of death defying stunt he has to pull along with the rest of the crew. Kes has medical papers published in Voyager's database which are widely circulated upon reaching the alpha quadrant and are used frequently by Tom when he has to do a medical thing because Kes created 'Tom Notes' which are just simplifying a bunch of the medical jargon in many of Voyager's papers. She called them 'Tom Notes' bc he's the only nurse and definitely not to poke fun <3 <- She's mischievous as she is helpful! Tuvok has seen her snacking on bugs multiple times as they tend to the plants in the airponics bay and he does think it's weird but he doesn't comment on it so she thinks he hasn't seen v_v

#Q&A #Tuvok & Kes #Tuvok #Kes #anon #Thank you for the ask~!!!#st voyager

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dmercer91 · 7 months

Note

I need to know about Landen's parents; what happened to her mother? You never talked about it, and I imagine that her dad is her number one comfort person since you mention that he is in her life. When it's time for Luca to meet him, he is very nervous because he knows that her father's really important to her, and he wants to have a good relationship like the one that she is forming with his parents.

landen was born in michigan, but her and her dad moved to montana a couple months after she was born for a fresh start, since her mother died during childbirth

her parents met at umich and that’s why she wanted to go there, and her leaving was definitely a ‘you’re gonna go far’ by noah kahan kind of situation where he was so proud but he didn’t want her to go since she’s an only child

he’s very quiet with his emotions but he’s actually very sensitive which usually turns into him showing anger rather than vulnerability

landen knows this and accepts that and he, in recent years, has tried really hard to be more open about what he’s actually feeling cause he knows if he hurts her she’ll never let him know

he would take a flight to michigan if she needed him in a heartbeat, and though he hasn’t outright said that, landen knows it.

when she’s having it really rough, she’ll be moulded into luca and she’s mumbling about how she wants her dad to be there.

her dad loves luca

but because they’re so important to each other and luca knows about his temper, he was really nervous to meet him

she planned before leaving for university that she’d be leaving immediately after exams to make it to montana for her dads birthday, so this summer the two of them went and luca stayed the first week, left the second week for boys trip, and then landen met him in (cannot think of vacation destination, someone insp me) for their trip

her dad jokes a lot, but in a way that luca finds semi horrifying

landens super used to it, cause her dad has absolutely no filter when it comes to bad (in the sense that they’re both morally a little wrong but also super dad-like) jokes

for instance, if landen got like a mosquito bite in an inconveniently incriminating spot her dad would be like 🤨 did you bite my daughter, fantilli?

cause she scratched at it til it bruised

and lucas in a panic like i have bit her? not recently? when did i leave a mark??? is he gonna tell me to get out wtf is happening?? while lan’s trying not to laugh

her parents relationship wasn’t actually all that good, cause her mom was a very anxious person and her dad was actually way worse with his anger before landen came along

so every time her mom would be upset, her dad would get annoyed and they’d argue. it was (a small) part of why landen’s birth was so complicated

however, her dad speaks nothing but positive words about her mom since he wanted landen to grow up 1. believing in love and 2. believing that her mother would’ve been amazing to her, even though he knows a lot of her personality would’ve clashed with landens.

he had a really negative view on relationships and family, since his parents marriage wad all sorts of fucked, so he has a rough time loving and he didn’t want that for her- a massive reason he loves luca so much

landen knows that a lot of what she’s heard about her mom is a fairy tale lightly based on her mom, but she doesn’t really mind. she has boxes of all her old stuff and even some of her clothes that she refurbished

landens name was picked by her mom and her dad refused to change it, even if he originally thought it was too boyish

he thinks it suits her now

#opposites attract au !#that was a rant and a half

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sarcasticsciencefictionwriter · 7 days

Note

So many interesting titles!!

Can you tell me something about Swapped Powers or Girls Night please?😊

Thank you!!! I'll tell you about both, because why not? XD

Snippets will be under the cut.

Swapped Powers

The premise of this is that Helen and John gained each other's powers from the Source Blood. (My imagination was not large enough to think that maybe all of the Five 'swapped' powers) So, Helen is the one that was effected by the parasite and became the Ripper. It follows John and Helen through the years, John building the Sanctuary Network from Helen's vision and raising Ashley.

Girls' Night

A fluff piece post-canon, in which Helen, Ashley, Abby, Kate, and Erika take a night on the surface just to hang out and bond. Lots of feels from Helen's point of view, because they're all close and she's never had that with so many other women at the same time. (Minor Teslen, but I don't plan on Nikola actually being in the fic).

___

Snippets:

Swapped Powers (Slapping this on as a warning, because this is directly before forceful removal of Ashley's embryo)

The house was a Sanctuary, but it was not a safe place tonight. It was a dwelling place of madness. Regret. Sorrow. Grief. Determination.

John struggled to hold on to Helen as she fought tooth and nail against him and Nikola, the two that had been tasked with holding on to her. He was taller and stronger and Nikola was a vampire, but a mad, desperate woman was matching them. They needed to make sure that she did not best them.

"No! Let go of me! Let go of me!" Helen cried, voice rising.

Her arm slipped out of John's grasp and she swung for Nikola. He barely managed to catch her again.

"You need to keep her still." James instructed.

John looked at his best friend, thinking it was rather obvious, but no mood to fight. Nikola grunted and they managed to force Helen to her knees. John was fighting not to look at her and saw James falter.

Gregory took the lead. There was grief in the man's eyes as he approached his daughter, rag in hand. John met his gaze, his emotions mirrored in the other man's gaze.

"Father." Helen begged, looking at Gregory with wide, distressed eyes. "Do not let them do this. Please. It is not theirs to do."

"I am sorry, sweetheart."

The man cradled his daughter's head in one hand and firmly pressed the rag with the specialized mixture over her mouth and nose. Helen fought it even then, but the fight started to go out of her.

Her body sagged and John was able to hold her easily for the first time since they had administered the first drug.

Gregory removed the rag and stared down at his daughter.

"I'll need your help, James."

"I am staying with her." John said stubbornly.

Now that Helen was unconscious, he was able to lift her into his arms. Nikola released her and allowed him to do so.

"No." Gregory said.

John clenched his jaw, staring him down. Helen's head was nestled against his chest, like it had been on so many different occasions. He wanted to hang on to her. Change his mind about what they were going to do. But it was something that they had to do, no matter what. It was too late for them to turn back now.

Helen herself had made certain of that.

"Son." Gregory said, voice softening.

John looked at Gregory then, because the other man had never addressed him in such a tone before and it was jarring compared to the violence of what had just happened. ____

Girls' Night

In all her years, Helen had never had so many women on her personal Sanctuary team. Currently, not counting Helen herself, there were four. She rounded it out at five. With five women and three engagements among them, Kate had declared that they needed to celebrate.

So here they were, sitting in a booth in a rather rowdy London pub, drinking together. Helen had been reluctant to join in. It didn't seem like she belonged in the group. They were all younger than she was, all within a decade of each other. But they had insisted, so she had relented, because, honestly, it was nice to spend time with them.

Helen sat on one end, sipping a glass of red wine. Abby had a glass as well. Kate and Ashley, who had quickly bonded, both had beers. Erica was sipping a glass of cranberry juice.

Helen was glad to see that Erica was doing well, responding to the treatment to slow down the pregnancy to a level where she could handle it. A long pregnancy wasn't what any woman would have wanted in the best of circumstances, but Erica was handling it well. She was healthy and smiling and finally starting to show.

Helen knew that she had a special interest in the pregnancy, because Henry was her son, and the child was her grandchild.

The thought warmed Helen from the inside out, more so than any alcohol she could have chosen to consume this evening.

#fun fact i typed the first one out before i realized i could paste #truedairship #thanks for the ask!#my writing #wips #helen magnus #john druitt

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written-in-flowers · 1 year

Note

Just a horny little idea to put back in your back pocket in case you want to use it later, but remember Ros and Armeca brothel scene in season 1? Imagine Rosebud!reader and Emely doing the same thing to each other while Otto watches, or Daemon watches being a voyeur. Even better if both men are watching the scene unfold from different points of view (I.e. Otto watching from a chair while Daemon watches from some secret passage)

A/N: Yessss, I finally got around to finishing this one!! I had another request like it, so once again, I molded them together. I really hope you all like it!

Another part of my Sweet Rosebud, on my masterlist.

Warnings: threesome sex (kind of), voyeurism, exhibitionism, masturbation, foreplay kissing and touching, bisexual!reader, oral sex (m. and f. recieving/giving), cock teasing, anal licking, anal play, breast/nipple play, spitting, scissoring, tad bit of dub-con, fondling.

***

What did he hope to gain by staying in King’s Landing? Rhaenyra’s nameday celebrations passed days ago, and yet Daemon remained in the city. Despite his contempt for court, rather than go back to Pentos where his wife and children waited for him, he had not left yet. Being King Viserys’s brother, he’d been invited to small council meetings with Lord Corlys, his new father-in-law. Otto detested it immensely. Daemon had no place at court anymore. He’d lost his positions as Master of Coin and Commander of the City Watch ages ago. Why was he here?

Otto pondered on this as he stared across the table at him. Viserys invited him to tell them tales about possible alliances with the Pentoshi princes. Daemon’s long blond hair reached his shoulders now, and signs of his age began to show in his face. He was no longer the young Prince of the City people once called him. Yet, he still carried an air of arrogance and defiance that Otto detested.

“-The Pentoshi princes haven’t done business with The Triarchy since I’ve arrived,” Daemon told his brother, “And I am confident enough to say that whatever dealings they did have with them is at an end. They have come to fear the Triarchy, and will do whatever they can to be rid of the pirates.”

“For as long as you stay there,” said Otto. “Tell me, my prince, what exactly did you do to convince those greedy scoundrels back in Pentos to not side with our enemies?”

“Because my wife, the Lady Laena, and I have become great allies to them. They admire our dragons and their strength.”

“Yes,” he nodded. “Your lady wife…When exactly do you mean to return to her and your daughters? You certainly don’t plan to abandon them over there.”

“Whenever I return to my wife it is my business, my Lord Hand.” Otto did not like the smirk he gave before sipping from his wine cup, “What about your wife, Otto? I thought you’d be less irritable now that you have such a comely woman warming your bed.”

“Daemon,” the King said, “That is enough.”

“At least you did your duty to your wife this time, even without The King’s blessing and leave to marry her.”

“I bet you do your duty to your wife quite often, my lord. I know I would if it were me.”

“Enough,” the King repeated firmly, “Otto, my brother takes great sport in provoking you, must you oblige him?”

You. That was why he stayed in King’s Landing. He hoped to bed you. He’d found you weeping in the royal sept in the early hours of the morning. You told him about what you’d done with Emely when he’d been away in Oldtown. This wasn’t any concern of his because he’d given permission to let it continue. What did concern him was Daemon, whom you said snuck into your chambers and molested you. He’d put his hands and his lips on you as Emely slept at your side. Otto would’ve run him through with a sword if The Gods only allowed it. You confessed to him, sobbing and ashamed, that you’d let him do it. Otto forgave you instantly. You weren’t at fault; Daemon took advantage of you. Him being a prince, it’d be considered treason if you’d fought back.

King Viserys made it clear he’d forgive Daemon as he’s done so many times before.

The small council meeting concluded with Otto’s report of his time in Oldtown. Trade routes were once again being thwarted by outlaws and thieves, so the Crown was compelled to send a small band of men to assist Oldtown in guarding its cargo lines. Otto made his way out of the chamber, intent on returning to you and Cedric before he spotted you in the corridor. You’d chosen a gown of powder blue silk and gold, which silhouetted your outline nicely. Behind you stood Emely, wearing her blue handmaid’s dress. The sight of you soured when he saw who’d stopped to speak to you: Daemon. He stood far too close to you for Otto’s liking, and he did not appreciate how his eyes seemed to take in every feature of your face.

“-I recommend visiting The Free Cities, my lady,” he heard Daemon say as he approached, “They have treasures there you’d never find in Westeros.”

“I’m positive they do. Is it true that Pentoshi men dye their beards?”

Why must you indulge him? “Y/N,” he said stiffly, coming up to your side and kissing your cheek, “What are you doing here? Is it Cedric? Is he alright?”

“Cedric is fine,” you told him. A lie. Cedric had difficulty passing bowel movements, and the maester looked over him this morning after Otto left. He supposed that given the present company, you’d kept it discreet. “I’d come looking for you before I ran into The Prince.”

Him and Otto shared a glance before Daemon said, “I was just telling your wife about Pentos. I suggested she try the Pentoshi wine I’d brought with me when I arrived. I think it’d suit her tastes, considering she’s so partial to Highgarden’s sweeter, more fruity wines.”

“I can’t help loving the tastes I grew up with, my prince” you smiled sweetly.

“Then perhaps you should indulge in newer, finer tastes-”

Otto heard the suggestion in his tone, and immediately took your hand, “Forgive me, my prince, but Lady Y/N and I have to see Maester Bole. Our son’s been quite ill lately, and we left him in his care.”

Daemon looked at you with concern. It was the sort a man used to gain favor with a mother. “Oh, I hope everything is alright with him. He’s quite strong…for a Hightower.”

‘Damn you, you foul man.’

“Maester Bole is confident he’ll recover,” you said, putting your hand on Otto’s.

“Daemon…”

Right on cue, King Viserys came to his brother’s side, leaning on his walking stick with two guards behind him. Over the years, Viserys slowly wilted away from the man he’d once been. His silver hair thinning every day, patches of dry skin began showing up on his scalp and body. The sores and infectious boils the maesters found didn’t heal very well despite the treatments. Still, he managed to walk on his own for a short time. Otto did not know how much time he had left with the illnesses plaguing him.

“I wish to speak to you in my chambers,” he said to his brother. “Before you head back to Pentos.”

Unable to refuse a king, Daemon looked over at you, “I’m afraid I must go, Lady Y/N. Take care…My Lord Hand.”

Otto and you bowed to the king as he walked away with Daemon beside him. Otto stared daggers into the man’s back. He’d only spoken to you to irritate him. It was your laugh that broke him from the anger.

“Why do you encourage him?” he asked you as you steered him away.

“I don’t encourage anything. He approached me, and I’m in no position to refuse him.”

“When you smile and giggle and speak to him,” he said, “It encourages him to keep pursuing you. I’d think after what he did to you in your room, you’d do your best to avoid him.”

“I have,” you remarked. “It isn’t my fault he always seems to know where I am or finds ways to catch me unaware. I didn’t know he’d be at the council meeting; he isn’t on the council anymore.” You wrapped your arms around his, and said, “I came to see you, Husband, to tell you about our son. You know, the child I bore for you and nobody else; the first of many I plan to have with you, my dear husband.”

Otto faltered. “Forgive me,” he resigned, “I know you don’t initiate it.” He kissed your hand and said, “How is the maester’s diagnosis?”

“Maester Bole says his bowel movements and constipation could be due to the lack of fiber in his diet,” you replied. “He suggested we breastfeed him until his stomach is better, so Aeda is tending to him. My milk dried up already, but she still has some.” You clasped your hand over his, “I thought we’d walk in the garden together. We haven’t done that in a while with all the business going on lately.”

“Would we truly be only walking,” he smiled, “Or would we be stopping in that shelter of flowers you’re so fond of?”

“I don’t mind either, but I do wish to walk with you.”

You’d found a hidden corner of the expansive palace gardens hidden behind a wall of thick vines and flowers. Otto recalled the numerous times you both strolled the gardens, only to end up against a brick wall, your legs wrapped around his waist as he filled you. Sometimes you both brought wine and food to talk alone. Other times, you stroked him while he admired your breasts. He didn’t mind either outcome today. In fact, he welcomed it. Because, in having you, he was convincing himself that you’d never let Daemon have you.

****

“For The Rose of Highgarden.”

Emely read the note tucked underneath the small gift basket. Inside, she saw a bottle of Pentoshi wine, with an assortment of exotic cheeses and fruits from the land. She only knew it was from the Free Cities because of the strange writing on the bottle. Prince Daemon must have sent it. Emely knew the mere sight of this note and the basket would rile Lord Hightower. You and Lord Otto went for a ‘walk’ in the gardens a while ago, and would be back before supper.

She’d picked up the basket to remove it before the door opened.

“Ah, Emely, there you are.” You smiled at her as you walked into the room. She noticed that you’d combed your fingers through your hair, and the grass stains on your gown. Just as she’d thought. Yours and your husband’s unquenchable lust won out again. “Come help me out of this gown. It’d gotten muddy from being on the ground, and I’d like to change before supper.” You’d begun removing your earrings before you saw the basket in her hands. “What is this?”

“A gift, my lady,” she answered.

“From who?”

“Prince Daemon, my lady.”

Your eyes widened, and you rushed over to her. “Has Otto seen this?”

“No, my lady. I found it when I walked in. It had this with it.”

She showed you the note and your eyes narrowed. “What is that vile man playing at?” you scowled. “First, he spies on me through the walls, then he violates me in my own bed, and now…” you took a deep breath, “Give me the basket.”

Emely handed you the basket. She stood by as you emptied the weak Pentoshi wine into your chamberpot, then tossed the basket into a fire. The cracking of the wooden basket went through the room as she turned back to you.

“You never saw it.”

“I never saw it.”

“If Daemon asks you about it, you tell him I was thankful and enjoyed the gift greatly. Understand?”

“Yes, my lady.”

You surveyed her for a moment, then said, “Come. I must prepare for supper. Otto told me he’s going to visit the King once we’re done.”

“Yes, my lady.”

****

He walked up Maegor’s staircase again. He took care in being quiet, since he knew one misstep and he’d be caught. But, Daemon almost did not care. A part of him hoped he’d get caught. He hoped because then there’s the possible chance you’ll invite him into your bed willingly. You might be so aroused, you wouldn’t mind him doing more than touching. Daemon could almost taste you on his tongue, your sweetness filling his mouth as you climax. Emely had sold him another cloth, a piece of you that he can sniff and taste while touching himself. But, the things he’d do to get the real thing and not a rag were monstrous.

Daemon reached the third landing in the secret staircase. Otto must still be at the emergency small council meeting; a meeting Daemon wasn’t invited to. But it doesn't matter. He had no interest in Westerosi politics. Why sit at a table, listening to boring realm business when he can spend his night watching you?

He pushed open the panel to stand inside the space between the panel and the divider concealing him from view. Peeking through a hole in the wood, he saw you sitting at the end of the bed with Emely. You each wore the thin, revealing dresses women wore in brothels. Emely informed him that you and her planned to surprise Otto again. Being an old man, he doesn’t have the stamina for two women nearly every night, but he didn’t mind watching at times. Daemon envied him. He’d kill to have such a wife warming his bed…a sensual, licentious creature whose arousal is never fully extinguished…a wife who can’t get enough…He exhaled deeply, not wanting to build himself up too quickly, but how could he not? You were an erotic vision meant to torture him. The forbidden fruit he’d kill a man to devour.

He’d purposefully sent you the basket in hopes of winning your favor. Daemon knew you’d be waiting for Otto outside the small council room, and he seized his chance. Emely told him you showed great interest in going across the sea to the Free Cities, visiting the different lands and experiencing their culture. He’d personally tell there’s nothing special about them besides the endless summer and queer customs. But, he liked the idea of you visiting his manse outside the city. He’d drape you in fine silks and golden jewelry, give you a chamber with a large, comfortable bed and servants to attend to your every need. He’d spend his nights admiring your body, and enjoying you in every position possible. Laena might object, but he didn’t care. It’s not as if he loved you.

You and Emely only kissed for now. Your hand trailed down from her neck, to her shoulder and finally to her hand. He leaned against the wall and observed behind his wall. Emely cupped your cheek and brought you in for a deep kiss. Daemon looked down to see the dresses barely covered the both of you. The sheer fabric hardly covered your full breasts, and hinted at the nipples hardening when Emely’s hand brushed over them. Neither of you undressed the other. No, that was for Otto to see. Yet, you still ran your hands over the fabric on Emely’s body. He saw you kiss from her lips, giving the lower lip a small tug, before kissing her breasts. You cupped one of them gently, and pecked the nipple poking through the dress. Emely hummed in delight at this, giggling softly at your bold kisses. He wondered how long you two intended to tease each other. It’s not as if either of you knew when Otto would return. Emely returned the favor by grabbing both your breasts and sucking on them, still not removing your dress. Daemon wished it were him sucking your nipples. He wished it were him making you moan softly as his tongue swirled around them. Your pussy must be throbbing from Emely’s light kisses and touches. He watched you slide your hand up her thigh, her leaning back to let you lick her nipple, and placing your hand over her mound. Layers of clothes kept you from truly touching her, yet she whimpered all the same.

Then, the door finally opened and Otto stepped into the room. His eyes widened at the sight of you two on his bed. The two women smiled coyly at him, each of them still fondling the other.

“Evening, Husband,” you said first, no longer rubbing Emely’s sex but sitting up for him to see your body. “How was your meeting?”

“Long and tedious,” he sighed, his eyes taking in each of you. “What is the meaning of this, Y/N?”

What do you think, you bloody fool? Daemon scoffed quietly. If it were him, he wouldn’t be asking questions.

“You seemed tense before you went to His Grace,” you told him, “I thought Emely and I would make a nice ending to a long day.”

How sweet.

“How sweet,” he smiled wearily. “But, I’m afraid this old man doesn’t have the energy to spare for both of you tonight.”

“Then, would you like to watch?” you asked. “At least, for now?”

“Of course.”

You returned to kissing one another as Otto undressed, his eyes never leaving either of you. Daemon knew he’d need to be as quiet as possible now that Otto was here. He’d most definitely hear him if he made a sound. Wearing only his shirt, breeches, and boots still, Otto grabbed a chair to sit in front of the bed. Leisurely, he rested back to watch you and your handmaiden. He’d love to have that view to himself.

***

Otto guessed he shouldn’t be surprised. You’d hinted that you’d like Emely to join you both again, and as wonderful as it’d be, he didn’t have the time nor the stamina for it. He can go two or three rounds on good nights, but lately, no night has been good. King Viserys is becoming ever more ill, and any moment he might pass, and Rhaenyra would be queen. He knew the moment she did, there’d be war. Very few people will accept her as their queen. Otto made another attempt at pressing Viserys to name Aegon, his first born son, as his heir. If Rhaenyra ascends the throne, his children and grandchildren will be put to the sword.

You and Cedric will be far away before that happens.

For now, he planned to simply enjoy watching. That is, until he grows so hard he cannot help himself and must have you. Emely untied the knot holding your dress up, and gasped when it fell to your waist. Your tits had a tight hold on him. His body temperature rose and his heart beat faster whenever he saw them. Emely took both of them in her hands, and licked flat strips up each nipple. While she did this, you untied her dress to reveal her chest to him. He heard a small click, and you removed the beaded belt keeping her dress cinched at her waist. Emely then stood up so the flimsy dress fell off her body, showing off the rest of her figure. You each looked over at him as Emely straddled one of your thighs. He spotted your tongue licking at her breast while your hands grasped her ass from behind. You spread her cheeks so he could see her tight ass hole; a hole that he can tease while you licked her pussy. Emely groaned softly as you teased her.

“Smack it,” he said, his eyes unable to look anywhere else.

You obliged, giving Emely’s bottom a soft smack.

“Harder.”

You smacked it harder. You did this a few more times to each side; Emely yelped in surprise to each spank. His cock strained against the front of his trousers; it pushed against the lacings and begged to be let out. Not yet. He bit his fist when she stood you up, and undid the belt of your dress. Both of you entirely naked, you came together again and kissed. He groaned at nipples brushing against one another, and hands sliding down to each other’s sex. You whined when her hand slipped between your thighs, and he saw the circulating motion over your lips. You returned the touch, causing Emely to moan as she kissed your neck. You bent Emely over the bed, so her ass stuck out in the air while she hugged a pillow. Otto groaned seeing her pussy and ass splayed out for him to see. Having one hand around her to tease her clit, you spat over her ass to let it drip downwards. Emely’s moans filled the room when you started licking her ass hole. He imagined the pleasure that must be burning inside her. He wondered how long you two had been touching each other.

“Lick her cunt,” he ordered, palming his raging cock through his pants.

Sliding down onto your knees, you wagged the tip of your tongue on her from side to side. You placed yourself in a position to make it easy for him to see, and he thanked you for it. He rubbed his hand over his tip; he felt a wet spot seeping through the fabric when he did it, and it encouraged him further. He grabbed hold of himself and stroked what he could feel, grunting softly as he watched. Your tongue began moving faster, making Emely grind her hips onto your face; you took her whole clit in your mouth and hummed. He knew he loved it when you did it to him; the soft vibrations in your throat whenever he slid down far enough drove him wild. You kept doing this until Emely begged for more.

You climbed back onto the bed, laying horizontally as you put your left leg under her right, and your right leg over her left. You both scooted closer and closer before your sexes touched. Otto walked to the end of the bed, where he had a better view. He untied his lacings, seeing lips spread and sliding over each other whenever you both grinded together. Otto bent over your centers to spit at your pussy, helping it get wetter and therefore sliding easily against Emely’s. Your moans sounded so sweet and needy. Your pussy must be throbbing, and dying for release. He leaned forward and began rolling his tongue between the two moist clits brushing together. Each of you moaned louder at this, bucking your hips as he sucked up the juices flowing to the top. Otto finally pulled out his cock, and fisted it while he continued pleasuring both of you. You occasionally stopped so he may focus his attention on one woman at a time before letting you continue. He moved to stroke himself until your hand caught his member first. Otto groaned at the new sensation going through his body. He continued watching both of you rub together, his mouth hanging open at the delicious sight. It was when he was pinching her nipple that Emely came first. Her stomach and thighs tensed, and her mouth hung open as she desperately rutted against you. Neither you or Otto did anything, only keeping on with the same rhythm that had the handmaiden trembling all over. He looked down to see her cum, creamy and white, mixing with yours as you soon came after her. He couldn’t help it. He leaned down again to taste the mixture in front of him, making sure his tongue touched each sensitive bud to heighten your climax.

****

Daemon had seen many erotic things in his life, and watching two women was by far his favorite. Especially when he desired one of them so much. He listened to the mewling, desperate sounds coming from you before your climax. You looked most beautiful when you were cumming. He picked up the pace on his cock, but he wanted more. A deep, burning ache for a tight hole took over him. He squeezed himself tighter, keeping his eyes on the scene progressing in front of him, and imagined being in Otto’s place. You pushed him onto the bed, straddling his lap in reverse so he had a view of your ass. You began sliding your wet pussy over his raging cock. Oh, you little tease. His eyes scanned your body. He took in your luscious curves, outlined so well against the firelight nearby, and saw your ass rocking back and forth. He imagined Otto could see your pussy spread out over his thick cock. My, you must love riding him. He hoped you’d ride him some day.

Emely, her purpose clearly done for tonight, dressed herself again while watching you whirl over Otto’s stiff cock. He knew what he’d do. Daemon couldn’t have your hole, but he could have hers. He waited until she’d exited the room to jump out from his hiding place, using the panel on the opposite side of the landing to be in the corridor. Quickly, he grabbed Emely by her waist and dragged her inside. She gasped, but only for a moment, before she realized who it was. Daemon pushed her against the side of the small enclosure, pulled her dress up around her hips, and pressed his tip to her soaked entrance. He put his hand over her mouth to keep her quiet as he slid fully inside. She bent forward to place her hands on the wall and spread her legs apart. She wanted this. She only served to liven up the couple’s sex life, not to fully be a part of it. Daemon would fix that for her.

“Won’t you…Won’t you let me put it in, Rosebud?” he heard Otto ask.

“Not yet,” you giggled. “I haven’t tasted it first.”

Daemon looked back into the room to see you kiss down Otto’s body to his groin. Your mouth immediately encompassed the tip, and you moaned softly. Emely’s tight sex clenched him while he shoved in and out of her. His body begged him to pound her, but he restrained himself. He’d enjoy the pleasure for as long as possible. At least until Otto started fucking you.

Then, it happened. The moment was brief, and he could be entirely wrong. But, as you licked up and down Otto’s shaft, you glanced over to where he stood. You must’ve remembered from the last time he watched you. Daemon held back a groan realizing this. Your eyes locked with his, whether you knew or not, as you tenderly sucked your husband’s cock. You made your moans audible even when reaching the back of your throat. You didn’t look very long, but whenever your head turned his way, you looked at him. Did you hope he was there, stroking himself to your body? He’d do it out in the open for you, if you liked.

The thought of barging in and fucking you in front of your husband made Daemon thrust into Emely faster. He kept watching you pleasure him with your mouth, grabbing your pussy as you did it. He’d lay right behind you, grabbing your hips, as he slammed into you. Otto would get the pleasure of your moans vibrating on him while Daemon enjoyed your pussy. He’d forget his feud with Otto for a few minutes if it meant getting a taste of you. He gazed down to where his body met Emely’s and dreamed of it being you.

When Otto appeared to have had enough, he maneuvered you onto your front and pulled your hips into the air. Good. The best part. Your husband leaned over, wrapping his hand around your throat as he brought you to him. Daemon saw him whispering in your ear, and you were almost unable to answer.

****

“You little slut,” he hissed into your ear, charging into you.

Your pussy, wet and hot, sucked him into your body every time he pushed inwards. His tip seemed to know where to hit instinctively. He kept his hand at your neck while he watched you looking over at the wall nearby. Daemon wasn’t the only one who knew of Maegor’s secret staircase. He used it several times himself. Not only to spy on you, but on anyone staying in his tower. During your walk, you wondered how he’d gotten into your bedchamber without using the door, and Otto told you. He said he’d have the pass blocked right away, yet you begged him now to. He then realized how much you enjoyed it. You explained it wasn’t because of Prince Daemon, but the thrill of being observed in general. You told him it reminded you of a performance, where all eyes stayed on you while you pleasured yourself or others. It made the experience more thrilling. He saw it even now. He noticed you arched your back a bit more, and stayed on your elbows so anyone watching could see your breasts move with the force.

This took him to a whole new level.

"You like him watching, don't you?" he growled, keeping himself deep inside. "Him standing in the shadows watching you be fucked like a whore. You must love the attention."

"Yes, I do,” you answered in sharp breaths.

"Say you like it," he let go of your neck and gripped your hips tightly. Keeping you in place, he started going faster, his balls slapping into your pussy each time. "Say you like it."

"I like it! I like it!" you cried in every thrust. "I like it so much. Please, let me…let…me…"

"Let you 'what'? Use your words."

"Let me keep doing it. Please. I love it so much. Please."

He’ll confess he’d prefer to rip Daemon from the wall and toss him out the window, but when his sweet rosebud makes a request, he cannot deny you. Anything. Otto knew boundaries would need to be drawn later. He knew you’d never allow Daemon anywhere near you, but he’d like to make it clearer to you. Sometimes, your appetite tended to run away with you, and only The Gods knew what you’d be doing otherwise. But, he liked that about you. Kissing up your back to your shoulder, he reached around for a pillow to place underneath you; a small cushion let you take weight off your arms without breaking the position. You braced yourself against it, planted on the mattress and submitted to him. Otto continued kissing across your shoulders, nipping and sucking while he listened to your moans elongate and crack. As always, when he has you naked, Otto can’t resist grabbing your tits. He wrapped his arms around you to cup them. His hands between the pillow and your chest, he let your hard nipples brush on his palms when they bounced. He knew the added pleasure will build up inside you.

He somewhat liked this. He knew Daemon desired you. He made no attempts to hide it whether Otto was present or not. His spies in the city told him Daemon took to visiting a prostitute who greatly resembled you. He saw how Daemon watched you from across rooms, and made excuses to see you. Otto believed he did it because of his loss. Daemon Targaryen did not like losing, and he’d “lost” to Otto when Gareth chose his old friend over a prince. It must be killing him to watch the object of his desires be pounded into the bed by someone else. He pictured the prince grinding his teeth and glaring at him right now. Otto grinned, looking down at your naked body, so tight and tense from your oncoming orgasm. You are a vision. You are everything Daemon wants and cannot have. He married Lady Laena Velaryon to keep bloodlines pure, but he wants you for pleasure. Otto couldn’t fathom the depraved, vile acts Daemon might make you perform if you became his. He need not marry you. Lots of men have mistresses outside of their marriages. You’d be the pretty pet he can take to bed whenever he wishes. Unfortunately, you never will be.

“You’re mine,” he grunted. “All mine.”

You knelt up until your body pressed to him, your head on his shoulder and your hands on top of his. “Yes,” you panted, “Yes, I am yours.”

“Say that louder,” he squeezed your breasts hard and thrusted up into you, “Say that louder.” ‘So he can hear you’.

“I’m yours,” you cried at the new angle, “I’m yours, Otto.”

“Get on top of me.”

He laid back on the bed, and let you straddle him quickly. Your pussy immediately found his tip and slid down it with ease. It’s as if you were made for one another. Otto felt it in his heart. You were meant to be his. He reached down between you for the center of your clit. He knew exactly what pattern to rub to make you squeal and giggle from the ticklish sensation. This time he didn’t stop. He wanted Daemon to see how easily he can undo you. He doesn’t need to be a strapping young man to make a beautiful woman climax over and over. Soon enough, he had you shuddering and digging your nails into his chest for a third time tonight. Even if he already felt weary, he’d keep going simply to show off to the man behind the wall. A distinct warmth hit his balls when he realized you were cumming so much, it leaked onto them.

“Look at the mess you’re making, sweetling,” he cooed, sitting up to kiss you as your orgasm softened, “All your cum dripping and smearing everywhere on me.”

“I’m sorry,” you pouted, “I’ll clean it up…if it pleases you, my lord.”

“It would please me,” he kissed your neck, sucking hard at the base until you whimpered. “It would please me greatly.”

****

Daemon nearly came twice seeing you underneath and on top of Otto. He couldn’t stop staring at your body. He couldn’t stop himself from wishing your father permitted him to marry you. Daemon told him repeatedly that he was the uncontested heir until such time his brother has a son. He rode a dragon, had a title and no wife or children. You’d be a queen one day, he told Lord Gareth, and yet the man still refused. He would’ve taken you to Dragonstone, where he’d make love to you constantly and keep you all to himself. He rammed himself into Emely’s throbbing cunt. She’d cummed long before him, her juices dripping down her thighs and thickly coating his cock. But, he didn’t care much for her comfort.

It was you he admired and desired so fiercely now. Yes, he’d hoped to marry Rhaenyra but she married Ser Laenor instead. He married Laena because at least he’d gain an alliance with Lord Corlys, especially after the Battle of the Stepstones. They’d been married for some time now; having two twin daughters and living in Pentos. Daemon only came back for business, and followed Lord Corlys to court in King’s Landing. It was by chance Rhaenyra’s nameday celebrations were in full swing when he showed up for the tourney. Chance brought you back into his sights. It brought blood flowing back to his groin. He felt younger than ever standing in front of you; seeing you naked, sweaty, and sucking Otto’s wet cock clean made him feel alive. He’s happy enough with Laena, but she doesn’t stoke the fires that you do. Not even Emely, with all her expertise and beauty, kindled the flames as much.

Your mouth. Gods, he loved your mouth. Those soft lips engulfing Otto’s tip looked delectable. He pictured them on him. He made Emely get to her knees, the woman shaky and drooling from the constant stimulation, and slid himself in her mouth. She sucked him hard and fast; she knew when he was close to bursting, and so would you. In his fantasies, you always knew what to do. He turned over to see you using your hand and mouth at the same time, causing Otto to let out a stream of curses and moans. You did the same in his dreams. You looked up at him with pretty, lust-filled eyes as you milked every drop from him. He’d spill it everywhere. He’d pump it down your throat or in your cunt or your ass. Wherever you wanted him to at that moment. Seeing you with Otto now, he guarantees the old man tries to do the same. He’d do anything to please his “little rosebud”.

You’re not a ‘rosebud’ to him.

You’re a ‘fireplum’.

You were the low hanging fruit grown in the groves of Highgarden. Looking like the average purple plum, once bitten into its fiery spices burst into your mouth. You might’ve fooled the court into thinking you’re a virtuous, proper lady, but he knew the truth. You’re far from a lady once your parts are properly warmed and ready for use. His use.

Daemon forced himself to remain quiet while his orgasm approached. He saw Otto’s body stiffen up, his hand clutching the sheets at his side while the other held you by the hair, and you kept your eyes on him. What a delicious sight you were. He’d love to have you sitting on his face while you sucked him dry; he’d tease and clean that oversensitive clit until you came again. When you whine, he’d tell you that he only meant to clean you and it’s not his fault you’re a insatiable cock slut. He focused on the fantasy until he reached his peak; the pleasure washed right over him, knocking him over into the wall behind him. He felt his own warmth surround him as it filled Emely’s mouth. On the other side of the wall, he heard Otto climax as well. He kept you firmly pressed against him and unloaded his seed in your throat. Daemon heard you struggle for a bit, gagging on the thick substance, but your knowledge kicked in right away. He saw how your throat gulped it all down. You’d do the same to him one day. Then, he’ll tell you to open your mouth so he can check if you swallowed all of it before you thank him for giving it to you.

Otto clearly wouldn’t let you rest any time soon. You wiped your mouth before he kissed you, not something Daemon expected from him. Kissing down your neck, he brought you down onto the bed and groped both your breasts. Daemon took deep breaths, his body heat making the stuffy space suffocating, and watched Otto continue kissing and fondling you. He kissed you so softly; touched you tenderly as he stayed between your thighs. Once again, he both saw you exchange words he couldn’t hear from his distance.

****

You loved being in his arms afterwards. Even with the sweat and fluids exchanged between you, you enjoyed Otto’s warmth and touch. However languid it was, it felt nice being taken care of afterwards. Otto’s semen left a special taste in your mouth, slightly salty and hot, which you continuously swallowed to have more of. Otto’s lips dotted across your shoulder and collarbone; his mustache and beard tickled your skin lightly considering he hadn’t trimmed it yet, which you liked.

“Otto,” you called him softly, wrapping your arms around him and tangling your hands in his hair, “Does it trouble you?”

“Only a tad,” he replied, stopping his kisses to look at you. “Only because it’s…Him…”

Emely admitted her betrayal a few days ago. After the prince broke into your chambers to touch you, you realized he must have some secret way of spying on you. When you brought this information to Emely in confidence, she suddenly burst into tears. She admitted to spilling your secrets to Prince Daemon, and that he’d spied on you through a passage in the walls. She told you how he asked her questions about you in exchange for gold; how he greatly desires you. So much so that he’s taken to stealing scraps of cloth you used to clean yourself with. A slight ache hit your chest hearing her confession, but you did not dismiss her. Not only because you enjoyed her company, but because she knew things about you that people might try exploiting. You encouraged her to keep on giving him what he wants. You learned to enjoy “performing” for him privately. You often touched yourself at night on the possibility he’d be there. If you keep enticing the prince, being the thing his cock desires most, he’ll do anything to get it. Perhaps one day, being a desirable object to the Rogue Prince might be beneficial to you and Otto.

Because, Otto owned your heart. Ever since your first meeting in Highgarden, when he arrived for the Harvest Moon Festival, you’ve wanted nobody but him. He met all your standards and exceeded your expectations. He’s gentle and kind to you; he respects your boundaries and listens to your worries. Otto loved you. You knew he did. The remarkable sex only made you want him more.

“We can always continue this in our own chamber,” you said, grinding yourself into him despite the tingling there, “Where you can have me all to yourself.”

Otto moaned into your next kiss, “As tempting as that offer is, my love, I’m afraid I must decline.”

You frowned, “Tired, love?”

“Extremely,” he nodded, rolling off you and laying on his back. You curled up next to him, settling underneath the sheets with him. “Prince Daemon does not live in Westeros anymore, but continues to be a thorn in my side. He married Lady Laena to strengthen ties with House Velaryon, yet moved across The Narrow Sea because his trick with Princess Rhaenyra did not work.”

“But that was so long ago.”

“Even so, I can tell he still covets the throne. Knowing The Prince, he’ll weasel his way into getting it.”

“Why does it bother you so?” you asked him, seeing the creases in his face harden as his expression did.

“Daemon will be Maegor reborn, or worse, if he should ever take the throne. Should The Gods work their mysterious ways to place him at Rhaenyra’s side, he will no doubt rule through her. He’s gained a lot of influence on her, especially after the brothel incident.”

“That and he’ll take your place as Hand of the King, and we’ll go back to Oldtown.”

“We?”

“I am your wife,” you grinned, kissing his jawline. “Cedric and I go wherever you go.”

He scoffed, “As if Daemon would allow that.” He took one of your hands in his, and gave a soft squeeze, “I’m certain the man will have me beheaded, then take you as his paramour. If we’re lucky, he’ll let Cedric live. He has no ties to the throne. He doesn’t challenge Rhaenyra’s claim in any way.”

“Your grandsons and granddaughter do,” you replied.

“They do.” He squeezed your hand absentmindedly, “She’ll slaughter them all. She must, if she wishes to remain unchallenged.”

“Then why won’t The King name Aegon or Aemond his heir instead?”

“Because he’s a fool who favors his daughter more than the rest of his children,” he said. “A woman has never sat The Iron Throne before, and I doubt the lords of this land will allow one too without protest. Her being named heir caused ripples throughout the realm that Viserys did not foresee, and I doubt he will be around to witness them himself…Lucky fool…” He looked over at you, “When the day comes that things change, I want you to take Cedric and go to Highgarden.”

“Highgarden?”

‘Your father will protect you. You’re safer with your family.”

“I’m safer with you.”

“I will not be able to leave King’s Landing. I must stay by Aegon’s side, and try to guide him through his rule,” he said. “And if you remain here…”

You cut him off with a kiss. You let the kiss deepen before pulling away. “Let us not dwell on Daemon Targaryen and the things he ‘might’ do one day,” you said, putting your leg over Otto’s and curling up to him, “And focus on the present which involves the both of us staying here, talking of more pleasant things until we fall asleep.”

“Fair,” he answered in a kiss, “How was Cedric today?”

“Very well. He’s drinking more milk now so the maester says his indigestion might have passed.”

“Good. Aeda says he doesn’t cry as much.”

The two of you continued talking about your son and your days before Otto drifted off to sleep. The creeping thought of one day having to leave his side kept you from sleeping. King’s Landing was not your favorite place in the world. Otto’s presence made it more tolerable. As much as you’d love to go home to Highgarden, it wouldn’t feel the same if Otto didn’t join you. You refused to entertain the thought of losing him. Otto is a strong, cunning man. He’d find a way. You gently pecked his cheek, and shut your eyes. Daemon Targaryen might desire you, but Otto Hightower loved you. You’d never leave him without a fight.

****

He dismissed Emely right when he finished, fishing for coins to hand her before sending her on her way. Daemon stayed in his hiding spot to rest while watching you and Otto underneath the covers. He remembered what he said about Otto’s heavy sleeping, so he felt no worry when he stepped out of the place. Unlike before, you did not roll away from Otto, but instead curled up beside him. You looked so peaceful in sleep. He couldn’t help envying the man again.

Daemon walked over to the bed and stood on your side. Carefully, he lifted the sheet slightly to see your bare backside there. He bit his bottom lip seeing the plump bottom right in front of him. He positioned his hand like Otto’s, and cupped one buttock. He did not squeeze you, however, since he knew any pressure might wake you up. But, he couldn’t resist sliding his hand further down to your thighs. Daemon’s jaw dropped in a silent groan when his fingertips caught a bit of wetness. He paused when he thought he heard you stirring, but continued once you settled. Your sex rested right on Otto’s thigh. You could easily begin humping him if you wanted. Daemon knew if he were Otto, he’d let you ride his leg like a bitch in heat any time you wished. Daemon licked his fingertips, tasting your wetness on them, before he rose from the bed.

He’d have you one day. He didn’t know when, but he’d have you as his. The best part? You’ll want him back.

#otto hightower #otto x reader #otto x you #otto x yn #daemon targaryen #daemon x you #daemon x reader #house of the dragon #hotd #hotd drabbles #hotd imagines #hotd fanfiction

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gretavanfleetposts · 1 year

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Valence: Chapter Two

Summary: The daughter of a drug lord, you're ready to take over the family business. Your father's only stipulation? You must marry the man he has picked out for you instead of the man you love in order to claim your kingdom.

TW: themes of death and dying, suggestions of sex, talk of drugs, swearing

Word Count: 9k

Chapter One Masterlist Chapter Three

The wind whipped through your hair as you stood on the balcony off your bedroom, your long, thin blue robe tied tightly and held shut by your shivering arms as a gust picked up and blew the fabric around your legs like it did the leaves rustling on the ground beneath you. You could make out the multiple security guards walking their routes about the grounds but what captured your attention was the two figures, one in all black and one in all navy blue, standing still in the center of your view. Your father and Jake, you surmised, touring the grounds: a duty that was likely assigned to you in silence but one that you had not fulfilled. And now it seemed your father was fulfilling it for you, ever the gentleman.

Your father's gestures were wide as he presented the land to Jake, likely giving some speech about how this all belonged to him now too. Or rather, would soon belong to him, like some sort of offering, some sort of repayment for doing his perceived duty. A thank you for agreeing to ruin your life. The sight bit you harder than the cold.

You watched as Jake turned, no doubt taking in his prize in all its glory, before his eyes landed on you, the figure shrouded in light blue silk standing on the balcony like the ultimate surveyor of the land. And you watched as his lips spread into a smile and his arm reached up in a wave. Your father's eyes followed soon after, not a wave this time but a motion gesturing you down to meet them.

A heavy sigh poured from your chest as you turned to obey your father, forgoing putting on any real clothes and opting instead for a long navy blue coat thrown overtop of your robe before you descended to the ground level floor and braved the brisk air to meet them where they stood.

Your father had sternness waiting in his eyes, ready to turn toward you and reprimand you, no doubt.

“I was just giving Jacob a tour. He says you haven’t offered him one yet.”

His tone was polite but you saw through it. And unless Jake was stupid, he saw through it too.

Your eyes shifted from your father over to Jake for a brief moment, taking quick notice of his long hair being agitated by the wind more thoroughly than any brush, you imagined. How he managed to make disheveled look so neat, you weren't sure. But there he was, standing in a cool, deep blue suit looking unbothered and almost downright amused, eyes boring a little too deep into you for your liking.

“I’ve been helping prepare a wedding, in case you’ve forgotten,” you retorted, turning your focus back to your father.

Anyone else might have been afraid to so casually test the length of your father's fuse and to be fair, they would have been right to. But rarely has a daughter not challenged her father and you were certainly no exception.

And you could see the distaste in his eyes before you heard it, thinly veiled, in his tone of voice.

“You’ll let your sister and the staff take over all wedding preparations so you can spend more time with your soon-to-be husband.”

“Should I finish the tour then?" you continued, doing just as little to mask your distaste as your father did as you directed your words toward Jake instead. "We have a private gun range that I’d be more than happy to show you.”

But Jake's smile only grew as his eyes proved unwavering on yours. Your father, however, showed no such amusement as a tight smile punctuated by an inward sigh pulled his skin taught.

“Surely the two of you can find a way to get to know each other better in the next three days,” he said, clapping a hand on both yours and Jake’s backs at the same time, less of a jovial gesture given the current context. Actually, it felt something like a warning.

It was Jake who spoke up next, much to your surprise, braving the chill of the tension that could have cooled the morning air on its own.

“Actually, my brothers and I were hoping you’d join us for dinner tonight.”

His words were addressed to you directly, evident in his gaze that had yet to move from your face since you stepped foot on the lawn. But regardless, your father was ready with an answer, all too enthusiastic for your taste, punctuated by another strong grip of his hands on the both of you.

“Excellent! She’ll be ready by 6.”

Another disapproving glance shot Jake’s direction at his insistence on being a good little boy in front of your father and he and your father moved on with their tour, leaving you standing in your place in the grass, shivering against the cold as you watched them walk on, the topic now something about maintenance and your father’s fondness of plants the groundskeepers couldn’t seem to keep alive, not the way your mother could.

They looked softer that way, in the absence of their words ordering you around. Jake seemed almost likable, even, turning up delicate autumnal flowers with his fingertips, a silver pendant swaying away from his chest as he dipped to admire the plants. He kept one hand in his pocket as he walked, much different than the way your father held his own hands behind his back, but somehow exuding the same restraint and power as the older man. He carried himself well, you could grant him that. Although that was hardly reason enough to marry someone. But perhaps if he could be delicate with the flowers, he could be delicate in other ways too. Perhaps he would rest you at his fingertips and dip down low to admire you.

You abandoned the thought as soon as it formed, shaking your head to yourself as you silently retreated back to warmth.

—

Hours later you found yourself being greeted by a chauffeur as your driver stopped the SUV in front of a house that challenged your own in grandeur. The comparisons stopped there, however, as you beheld the gothic structure, dark and romantic and heavy as it weighed upon the earth beneath it, sinking like a stone into the cold, wet ground of autumn, every bit as fitting for Jake as you had pictured.

The heavy black door swung open on cue as you were escorted up the stairs and there stood Jake, ready to greet you in the grand entrance like some sort of king or baron. Or drug lord, as it were.

He was ready with a smile, too, warm and inviting, just like the house, as much as you hated to admit it. He fit in there, with his navy blue dress shirt unbuttoned to show off the better half of his chest and the silver pendant still resting heavy against his skin. He looked like he belonged with the backdrop of dark mahogany walls and rich velvet drapes, somewhat mysterious and compelling, although you would never admit that to him.

“This house is breathtaking,” you said instead as you stepped inside and undid the tie of your coat.

He was beside you in an instant with a smile barely tugging at his lips, running his fingers up your coat sleeve until they met the collar, where he dragged the material off your shoulders and folded it into his arms, disappearing behind you to hang it up in some hidden closet built into the wooden walls.

“We make do,” he smiled as he reappeared.

You eyed him carefully as he reached up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, not letting his fingers linger at your earlobe or the side of your neck nearly as long as his eyes did.

“You look beautiful,” he remarked as he dropped his hand back to his side.

You must have given him a distrustful look because he suddenly chuckled and added, "Relax. You're making me nervous now."

It wasn't exactly an easy task though, relaxing. Not when his every move felt so purposeful, so pointed. And certainly not when he hardly let his gaze shift from anything but you while the two of you were together, as few occurrences as it had been. Not to mention, his hands. He clearly liked using his hands. He felt his way around the world, that much was evident. And you weren't anxious to be included in the discoveries he made with his hands.

Thankfully a commotion coming from a hallway somewhere nearby let breathe the tense air, two loud voices echoing among the bleak gray statues and heavy velvet curtains softening the dark wooden walls sculpted to the high heavens: a pair of boys appearing almost out of the woodwork.

You were instantly greeted by the lankier of the two, a figure much taller than Jake but with hair that matched his in length, dressed in all charcoal with the most natural smugness you had ever observed in someone. The only feature that felt out of place on his face were his eyes, downturned with a sense of sadness to their shape, but just as warm as Jake's.

He pulled you into a tight hug, lifting you off the ground like you were a long-lost friend who had finally made their return home. It took you aback, leaving you, no doubt, with an even more startled look on your face than had been there when the commotion from the boys had started down the hall. But even as he set you down and took in your startled look, his eyes were warm and welcoming.

"About time this asshole became an honest man," he joked, gesturing to his brother watching with annoyed amusement from behind him.

A second boy took you into his arms then, the one with the frizzy curls topping his head and the striking resemblance to Jake, similar in stature and facial features despite the differences in hair and dress. He looked like the sunnier of the two, much less brooding.

"Welcome to the family," he sang over your shoulder as he rocked you both back and forth several times before finally letting you retreat back to yourself.

"Not yet, Josh. There still has to be a wedding," the tall one corrected.

The word 'wedding' still set your teeth on edge but somehow the lanky boy with the long hair and the sad eyes managed to make it sound much less like a sentencing than when your father said it. Or, God forbid, when Lily said it.

"Sam and Josh. Sam's the youngest; Josh and I are twins." Jake gestured to both boys as he introduced them and suddenly you saw past the differences in hair and dress and saw Jake and Josh for the twins they were. Something you certainly hadn't been expecting.

“You didn’t tell her you had a twin? How was she supposed to know it was you she wanted?” Sam continued on with his teasing.

Irony you could have appreciated had the siblings left a second of silence untouched.

“I’m the oldest by five minutes. I'm sure he didn't tell you that either."

"But don't worry. Josh won't let you forget it," Sam echoed.

You couldn't help the smile that teased up the corner of your mouth as you chuckled lightly at their antics. You certainly weren’t expecting these two boys to be his brothers, so much less stoic and cool than him. So much louder. He fit the scenery. They didn't.

"You all make much more convincing siblings than my sister and I," you mused, astounded by the closeness of their features.

“Hey, don’t insult me that way,” Sam feigned hurt as his arm snaked around your shoulders again, only this time with the purpose of leading you back the way he and Josh had come, down a long hallway toward the smell of something delicious cooking.

“We were just starting dinner when you arrived; you can drink a glass of wine and entertain us while we finish,” Sam promised, giving your shoulder a light squeeze.

“I was doing all the hard work,” you heard Josh pipe up in between sounds of sibling badgering between him and Jake as they strided behind you and Sam.

“Is that why it smells like something is burning?” Jake was quick to quip back.

Sam ignored them quite easily, as if he had been doing it all his life. And you were quite certain, even despite not knowing them all for long, that he had been. Josh, on the other hand, didn’t ignore his twin.

“Does your fiance know you’re the least funny one in the family?”

And then you came upon it, a big beautiful kitchen whose centerpiece was an oven shrouded entirely in dark stone. The rest of the kitchen matched the mood of the house, dark wood paneled walls that emanated a deep comfort. Pots and pans dangled from the ceiling and a heavy wooden island with a black marble countertop sat in the middle of the room. And gracing almost every other surface were tall, waxy candles, showing clear signs of their extensive use.

“Hope you like pasta,” Sam remarked as he unlatched himself from you and situated himself behind the island in front of a cutting board with assorted vegetables already in the process of being cut.

A glass of wine was suddenly produced in front of you, offered to you by Jake now with his own drink in hand which you practically accepted with open arms.

“How long until dinner?” he asked.

“Thirty minutes if you’re not helping," Josh chimed in. "Forty-five if you are.”

“Perfect, just enough time for a tour.”

With that, Jake led you out the back of the kitchen and up a flight of stairs to a second floor of the giant home, another long hallway covered floor to ceiling with heavy picture frames encasing some of the most beautiful artwork you had ever seen.

“I think that back there was the first time I’ve ever seen you smile.”

His observation broke your concentration, and your efforts to ignore him, as it were, and you turned to him, inhaling deeply as you met his soft and tender gaze. You hadn’t expected him to take notice of you that way and he certainly still was as he watched you with intent, it seemed. It suddenly made you feel vulnerable and you hesitated in his eyes before you acknowledged his comment.

“Your brothers are great,” you offered in a near whisper, a smile turning up your lips ever-so-slightly at the thought of the two boys you had briefly met downstairs.

It certainly wasn’t a lie. You might have even said they were his best quality.

“I should have introduced you to them first,” he smiled. “We might have gotten off on a better foot.”

You felt your smile, small as it had been, fade from your face as the thought of your first, or rather, second, meeting with Jake brought itself back to your attention, and with it, the thought of the predicament you were in. You turned your eyes back to the hallway in front of you that you and Jake slowly marched down, some symbol of what was to come perhaps, and swirled your wine glass absentmindedly before taking a long sip.

"I've hardly been introduced to you anyway," you said as the liquid did its best to fix your nerves, to no avail really.

You could feel his eyes still searching the side of your face before he finally gave up and turned his focus in the same direction as yours, down the long stretch of dimly lit hallway lined with ornate red carpets on one surface and detailed wooden accents on the other three.

It was silent for a moment before he spoke again, turning once again to you despite the fact that you couldn’t meet his eyes.

"I can let you snoop through my room if that would help."

“It might," you admitted.

Picking up his stride, he led you to the end of the hallway, to a door that stood tall carved into the wall that resembled the other doors interspersed down the hall, likely the bedrooms of the other two more bubbly boys.

“This is my room,” he said with a push of the door open, leaving room between himself holding the door open and the frame, enough for you to enter first to take it all in.

The first thing you noticed was the heavy wooden poster bed in the very center of the room, draped in cozy-looking linens that were plentiful enough to swallow him up every brisk morning, you imagined. It was disheveled and slept in and your eyes lingered for just a second too long.

The walls were dark panels of wood that matched the rest of the mansion’s interior but that was about where the similarities stopped between his bedroom decor and the decor of the rest of the house, aside from the ornate rugs covering the cold wood beneath your feet and the heavy drapes drawn tightly closed.

The room was littered with vinyl records and books and instruments that were too many to count as you spotted more and more in various nooks of the room. An old-looking record player sat in one corner surrounded by music, most of which you didn’t recognize but some you were very familiar with, and the bookshelves built into the walls scarcely had any open space left on them. He was like a vampire bored of venturing into the world around him, turning inward to appreciate music and literature instead.

“I take it you’re a musician,” you inquired, though it wasn’t really a question.

With one hand running along the walls as you walked about the room, trying to count the instruments you saw, most of them guitar-like in nature, you turned your head back to him, where he stood practically still in his bedroom doorway as you awaited an answer. He almost looked…vulnerable, that was the best way to describe it. Nothing too tangible but the intensity in his eyes that was usually there was suddenly a bit more unassuming, like he was trying his best to let you into this place you didn’t really feel like you belonged in, trying to show you some part of himself without scaring you off, without scaring himself off, maybe.

The room said a lot about him but his demeanor as he watched you unravel his secrets with your eyes and your fingertips said just as much.

“Good way to unwind at the end of a stressful day,” he answered simply, not so much a reveal in and of itself.

“You play all of these?” you asked, gesturing widely around the room with one hand in reference to the miscellaneous instruments propped up on miscellaneous objects that surrounded you.

He gave you a quiet, easy nod.

“I do.”

He didn’t seem to have much commentary, you noted to yourself. Although what that said about him, you weren’t entirely sure.

“Would you play something for me?” you asked as you continued your walk about the room, half expecting silence as his answer but curious nonetheless if he would.

But he wasn’t silent. You caught a glimpse of a smile crossing his face as you turned back to the path laid before you and you could hear that same smile in his voice as he answered, “Tell you what, I’ll learn your favorite song and play it for you next time you’re here.”

You nodded at his answer, mostly to yourself as you digested it, just as your fingertips grazed a book where his floor-to-ceiling shelves began.

“You like to read,” you asserted. Another non-question about his hobbies that he answered without much comment.

"Escapism."

"When do you have time to manage the farms?"

You caught his shrug out of the corner of your eye before you turned your back to him fully to read an assortment of titles squeezed into the shelves in front of you.

"It's more Josh's thing. I'm just a figurehead."

"Ah,” you nodded, “shirking responsibility." You gave him a tut with the click of your tongue as you perused book spines, glass of wine still in hand and emptying quickly.

You finally heard him take a few steps into the room, still keeping quite a bit of distance between the two of you, but close enough now that as you turned your back to the books and faced him, he looked like he had finally joined you in the room, his normal intensity suddenly drifting back into his eyes.

"I recognize when others are more suited for something than I am."

And with that he had evaded your judgment, although it was a bit irritating, his simple answers, never really giving you much and leaving you with many more questions than you had to start.

Nevertheless, you bit the inside of your cheek and eyed him carefully, his own eyes never faltering as the two of you stared at each other, willing the other to relent in some unspoken fight for understanding, before you finally abandoned it altogether in favor of turning back toward the books, much more expressive than Jake’s words up to that point.

"He does a good job, I suppose.” You pushed the conversation forward. “Largest producer in the country. He’s more than tripled output since you're father."

"I knew it was a good idea to let him borrow 'Drug Production for Dummies'."

You turned back to him again, struck by his sarcasm as you stood in incredulous silence before finally huffing out an exasperated breath with a shake of your head.

"Do you plan to take a backseat once we're married as well?"

He took a few more steps forward, beginning now to decrease the space between you by a not-so insignificant amount. He looked past you, not really looking at anything in particular but, rather, looking as if he were deep in thought, chewing on the inside of his lip for a brief second before he finally rested his eyes on you again, a smirk tinging at his features and threatening to completely overtake his face.

"Do you mean in terms of the business or in terms of taking care of you?"

You could tell what he meant without even asking. It was clear in the grin that finally overtook his lips at your brows furrowing with disfavor that he wasn’t asking in any wholesome sense.

"The business,” you corrected him sternly. “Obviously."

"Obviously," he parroted back with a smirk, taking more steps toward you despite the way you practically clung to the bookshelf at your back. More steps, even, until he was mere inches away from you, looking toward the books like he was picking one out that just so happened to be almost directly behind you, but instead of a book, his eyes landed on yours once again.

"I intend to stay out of your way when you want me out of your way. And I intend to get in your way when you want me in the way."

He hadn’t been this close to you since helping you out of your coat at the front door. But now, with wine flowing through you, you couldn’t help the way your eyes dropped to his bare chest and flickered back up to his lips, making a slow journey finally back to his eyes. Even as you stood there speechless at his boldness.

It wasn’t until the thought of Danny hit you like a truck that you suddenly got your bearings back, the thought of the man you had woken up with only a few days prior, the man you hadn’t seen since later that same day. And suddenly guilt was coursing through you, gnawing at your edges and threatening to double you over as you shook the daze from your eyes and slipped from the space between Jake and the bookshelf to continue walking about the room.

Danny, the one you loved, unaware that you were perusing your future husband’s bedroom. It suddenly felt inappropriate being there, though you knew you hadn’t much choice. Letting Jake corner you that way though, thinking thoughts about him that would have dragged Danny’s heart through the dirt, that was something you had to avoid.

"I'm sure you'll find a way to keep yourself busy then," you retorted, a bit of bite showing itself as you retreated.

You heard him chuckle from behind you, a sweet sound that ground on your nerves.

“If I didn't know any better, I'd say I make you nervous.”

You answered without ever looking at him.

“I’m not good with small talk,” you said as plainly as you could manage, trying to quell thoughts of Danny for your own sake.

“I don’t think this is really small talk.”

“What would you call it?”

“Well, I’m attempting to flirt with you and you’re attempting to get drunk.”

You turned toward him again, once again surprised by his audaciousness and unable to not let that surprise show, even if only for the slightest of moments before you collected yourself.

You faked a chuckle as convincing as you could, trying not to give yourself away. Trying to look poised as ever even though you were far from it.

"There's no off switch, is there," you shook your head, dropping your eyes to the glass in your hand and breathing in a sigh so deep, you practically felt the pressure in the room change.

"Well I can't turn it off now,” he shrugged for a second time. “I haven't even wooed you yet."

He said it so easily, so matter-of-factly that you couldn’t tell if it was a joke or not. The look on his face was just as indiscernible too. And suddenly his seemingly flippant attitude brought anger to the surface of your tone, running hot behind your cheeks not too differently than the heat that had been there when you were backed up against the bookshelf. But an entirely different emotion attached; much less confusing at that.

"Is that what this is, you attempting to woo me?” you accused somewhat meanly as you stepped away from the wall toward him with a start. “Because it's not working."

What was Danny doing at that moment? Had Lily already told him of your plans for the night? Would he take this as a sign of you abandoning him for Jake? You should have told him you were going. You just couldn’t find it in you to face him, to get out of bed in those few days. It was ridiculous really, hiding from the one person you wanted. But that you were no stranger to.

Jake made a similar step toward you but his tone held no such anger. It was simply his same quiet voice, low and crackly and infuriatingly soothing.

"Well you’ve hardly let me get started."

Another step toward him and you found yourself doing the same dance with him that you had done several days prior when he was insistent upon calming you down. And you were just as angry now as you had been then, not because he had done anything as egregious as your father. Although, with the wine in you, saying yes to the whole thing in the first place was beginning to feel just as damning for the poor boy in front of you. He was the one keeping you from Danny, him and his agreement to your father’s deal without any regard for how it affected you.

"Have you considered that maybe I don't want you to try?” you spat the question in his direction. “This isn’t a game to me, Jake."

“I’m sorry,” he started, lifting his hands up as some sort of symbol of peace as he stepped toward you again, this time multiple paces. “I’m just trying to diffuse the tension. It’s not a game to me either.”

You shook your head with a mean laugh, your frustration and anger growing hot inside your chest now, burning in your lungs and down your arms until you felt it pulsing in your palms.

“Says the man who clearly benefits from all of this,” you seethed, voice beginning to raise.

“Whatever your father thinks I get from this, he also thinks you get from this.” His voice was still even, though touched now ever so slightly by something a bit more stern.

That’s what you were looking for, after all: a fight. Maybe he would give it to you.

You had no regard for if the boys downstairs could hear you as you stepped ever closer to Jake, arms flailing widely as you continued your assault on him with your words despite your wine glass still in hand.

“I don’t care what my father thinks you get from this, I want to know what you think you get from this. It’s better than what I get from this and we both know it!”

And then suddenly, without even realizing how far the two of you had moved, he was right in front of you, grabbing your wrist with his right hand and prying your empty glass from your grip with his left before moving his hand that held you tightly to your forearm and dragging you further into him. It was all at once that you suddenly found yourself inches away from his chest as your seething anger turned into something else entirely.

“Okay, okay,” he started softly as he held you there, unrelenting as his eyes searched for any shred of calm in you and his teeth clenched lightly. “I won’t be such a tease. Just a little bit of a tease, how about that?”

If you hadn’t been so utterly speechless at his ability to deflect, you might have been struck by the way your anger melted from your body, not just due to his sudden change in proximity but also thanks to the way he held you, like he was unwilling to let go until you proved to him you were calm.

Maybe that was what he had wanted to do when you had hurled insults at him in your bedroom. Maybe he had been too afraid to.

And then that sudden change in proximity set in again and you realized just how close you were, closer even than you had been when he had cornered you not long ago, too close to evade his eyes unless you stared directly at his bare neck, tensing lightly at the effort he was using to hold you where you were, draped in silver. Too close to evade his eyes unless you stared directly at his lips, plusher than you remembered them being the last time you had seen him, lips slightly parted as his tongue darted out to wet them, awaiting any type of response from you.

It was unfair how beautiful he was. He clearly used that to his advantage, the same way he used his hands to calm you, discovering something you wished he would have left undiscovered.

And suddenly it was the thoughts of Danny melting from the back of your mind too. A simple touch but a feeling you had never quite felt with Danny.

You finally shook yourself out of your thoughts to whisper a meek, “Fine,” which he appreciated with a single nod and a, “Good,” before letting you go and retreating back to the doorway, your wine glass still in his hand as if he didn’t want you to get any ideas. You usually saved violence for your father but Jake didn’t exactly know that.

“There’s more I want to show you, if you’re done trying to fight me.”

Silently you crossed the room, trying your best to look unphased and unashamed of the entire altercation and trying even harder to avoid looking at his slept-in bed one last time before you crossed the threshold back into the hallway.

He led you down a flight of stairs at the end of the hall, a long flight that wrapped back around to the large entryway and led almost directly to a study off the same room.

“This is the family office although Josh is really the only person that uses it. I imagine you could get some use out of it too.”

It was a magnificent room to say the least, not that the house had anything short of magnificence throughout, Jake’s room included. It was tall and grand and had even more books than Jake’s room, the shelves there dwarfing his own with tall ladders attached to golden rails to reach the books two stories up. The desk that sat in the middle of the room was clearly the focal point, backed by an enormous wooden fireplace that looked like it could swallow the room, but what drew you in were the windows, floor to ceiling, overlooking the lawn, gray as it was. It was a beautiful view, one that had you imagining doing work there, watching the grass freeze over with a fire to your back, Josh and Sam being their loud, jovial selves in the background. It felt almost like it could be home, save for the lack of your mother’s touch around. Or Danny’s.

It took you out of the moment, the thought of them, and you swallowed your awe with a reluctant sigh as you swiped your fingers delicately over the wooden desk, appreciating the grandeur beneath your fingertips while still trying to shake the feeling you had been left with in Jake’s room.

“I would think I’d work at my own house.”

He followed you to the desk, standing a few steps away on the opposite side, his eyes watching you carefully, following the trail of your fingertips along the glossy desktop.

“We can have anything moved in,” he assured you quietly, just above the crackle of the fire. “Just say the word.”

He was picturing you there, you knew it. You were picturing yourself there. And it angered you coming from yourself. But coming from him? It only filled you with hurt that you had to quell his delusions.

“I don’t plan to live here, Jake,” you started slowly, eyes still fixed to the desk, “as beautiful as it is.”

You didn’t look up at him but his voice was its usual calm self. If he was masking any hurt, you certainly couldn’t tell behind the typical husky cadence he had, humor never too far behind.

“Well I guess I can move in with you but Spanish architecture really isn’t my thing.”

You mostly ignored his remark, retreating back into your thoughts as you tried to imagine some version of Jake that fit into your home, some version of him that fit into your life. And of course, wherever he fit in, that was space taken away from Danny.

“Would be easier to sneak around with Danny here though. A few less interested eyes prying.”

Now that had you lifting your eyes to look at Jake, his demeanor unchanged while you looked at him in unstifled uncertainty, unsure if he was being sincere or not although he certainly looked like he was.

But you shook your head, slowly at first as you processed the idea, what he was suggesting.

“That would feel…very wrong,” you asserted, more to yourself perhaps than to the boy standing in front of you turning the wine glass between his fingers, letting the light of the fire glint off of it.

“Why’s that?” he asked softly, almost too softly.

“I mean…” you began with a heavy sigh, “if I’m going to have an affair, I could at least do it in my own home.”

He pursed his lips and cast his gaze downward to the wine glass still in his hands as he nodded, adding, “Well, it’ll always be here. Just something to keep in mind. I’m sure Josh would love the company.”

He was easier to look at when his eyes weren’t boring holes into your soul, easier to confront when you didn’t feel like he was watching your every move and taking notes. You couldn’t help the question despite the fact that you regretted it almost immediately, absurd as it was, especially coming from your mouth.

“Would you prefer me here?”

He raised his focus back up to your face, straightening with the sincerity he placed behind his words.

“I would prefer you to be somewhere that you actually want to be, y/n.”

You stared back, unwavering, determined now to take just as much note of him as he did you.

“And where do you want to be?”

“Wherever you want me,” he answered plainly. And you shook your head at the response.

“I don’t think that’s true.”

Finally a sigh evoked from the boy with the long, straight hair resting at his shoulders and the silver medallion shining on his chest, a piece he seemed to never take off.

“Okay, truly?” he asked, reluctance not sitting far behind his tone. “I want to be here with my brothers. And in an ideal world, you’d feel like this was your home too. But I’m not an idiot and I realize that none of this is happening in an ideal world.”

The tiniest hint of pain behind his eyes rose up as he said it, clouding the warmth that was usually there just a tinge, cooling it off the slightest bit. You imagined that pain amplified by a million after his father died. If you were to ever witness it in him, it might have broken you.

But even so, your reply was almost snide, unintentionally but snide nonetheless.

“See? Not so hard to actually answer a question every now and then.”

He shuffled on his feet and pursed his lips again, pausing a moment before addressing your pointed remark.

“You feel like I’m not answering your questions?”

“I feel like you’ve rehearsed all of your answers to give me the least amount of information possible.”

Here you were being unfair again, despite your intentions not to be.

“Maybe I don’t have the information you’re looking for,” he answered, not quite as calm as he had been up to that point. There was frustration growing, you could tell.

“Maybe you’re hiding it from me,” you accused, voice quiet but accusation still there.

His voice wasn’t nearly as quiet when he answered.

“Maybe I’m not the one choosing to hide it from you.”

It was sharp when he said it and you deserved the bite as you reeled in your mind, suddenly more sorry than you had been since meeting Jake. Your father was at the center of this, perhaps you had forgotten. Turning your anger in on Jake wasn’t getting you anywhere and it was unfair to him. But the words he deserved to hear, ‘I’m sorry’, died on your tongue as you stared at Jake, eyes suddenly starting to go glossy.

You were sorry, why couldn’t you say it? And more importantly, why were you unable to be in a room alone with Jake without picking a fight with him?

“Is the fight over or should I keep my distance?”

It was Josh’s voice that broke the heavy silence as he peeked his head into the study, his curls arriving first.

Jake seemed instantly more annoyed although at you or Josh, you weren’t sure. Probably both of you, to be honest.

“You need something, Josh?” he asked without turning to his brother.

Not that Josh seemed to really be bothered by it.

“Yeah, come eat this delicious pasta I slaved over before it gets colder than whatever happened in here.”

You and Jake both stared on at each other, a tense silence so thick in the snowy air you could practically cut through it with a knife despite Josh’s best attempts to warm the room with his wit. There was more hurt there, behind the warmth of his face, hurt that he had clearly been hiding from you, maybe even shielding you from. If you hadn’t felt guilty before, you certainly did now.

But unable to even whisper out a pathetic apology, finally you relented with a sigh, breaking the stare as you couldn’t bear to look at him any longer, opting to follow his twin out the door, Jake sighing before he followed suit.

“Gonna give each other hypothermia if you’re not careful,” Josh remarked before taking your arm and looping it through his to lead you back to the kitchen.

Silence carried you all back to the kitchen where Josh busied himself with plating pasta and Sam was busy filling glasses with mostly liquor. Well, all liquor in the glasses you could see.

Jake made quick work of your empty wine glass while Josh handed you a plate and guided you toward the large dining room right off the kitchen. A large mahogany table sat in the middle, covered in so many candles it looked like it might go up in flames and surrounded by walls of artwork akin to what you had seen upstairs.

Jake followed closely behind and took his seat at the head of the table as you took the seat closest, followed by Josh opting for the chair next to you and Sam the chair opposite you. Nice and cozy at one end of the substantial slab of wood. Like a neat little family hiding messy secrets and dramatic arguments.

“Did he show you his bad music taste?” Sam blurted out above the sound of silverware scraping along plates.

“I told him; wait until after the wedding,” Josh chimed in, bumping your shoulder with a wide smile on his face.

“It didn’t look so bad to me,” you shrugged quietly, trying to avoid Jake’s eyes.

Sam wasn’t nearly as quiet though as he slapped Jake on the shoulder.

“Oh she’s a keeper for sure,” he bellowed as Jake fought him off.

He leaned over to you then, feigning a whisper in your ear while he spoke loudly enough for the other two boys to hear. “Remind me never to bring you back here.”

“Oh come on, you love us.” Sam banged his fists on the table as he addressed his brother before turning to address you. “He loves us.”

It seemed Jake had put your fight behind him as the dinner continued. Well, as much as one could call a one-sided argument a fight. You learned about the brothers' proclivity for music while twirling pasta around the tines of your fork to the sound of any of the three fighting over what could be considered good music these days. You learned about their father, a kind and warm man who just so happened to inherit one of the largest cartels after their mother, her mother's successor, died in childbirth. He never really wanted it. You learned that when he had died in a car accident several years prior, he had named Jake as his successor despite the fact that he was five minutes late to the race for eldest. More of a burden than a gift, as Jake recalled it. He also never really wanted it. He took after his father in that right.

"It was better off in my mother's hands. In my grandmother's hands. It needs a woman now too," he had said.

"Corny," Sam had interjected with an eye roll.

You learned that Josh was, in fact, the only brother really interested in keeping things running smoothly with the business and that Sam had more of an inclination toward their weapons arsenal, both expanding it and using it.

“I like fire,” he had said with too much of a glint in his eyes.

“We all like fire, Sam,” Josh had added, too much of a glint in his own eyes too.

You couldn’t help but think about your mother’s theory on sitting down to dinner and unveiling oneself to someone. Jake opened up with his brother’s around. He opened up at the dinner table.

And when plates were emptied and glasses were drained, Josh excused himself to carry dishes to the kitchen, turning down the attempts of multiple housekeepers to unload the task from him. You followed the twin into the kitchen with your own plate and glass despite Jake's protests, leaving him with his younger brother as they picked out another bottle of some dark liquor from the cellar sitting somewhere beneath your feet.

"This place is beautiful," you commented as you and Josh entered the quiet confines of the kitchen and set plates down on the island.

"It'll be yours too, after the wedding," he said with a half smile as his eyes flickered up to yours through his lashes all while his hands were busy brushing food scraps into a trash bin.

But you didn't return his look, merely cast your eyes downward at the thought of having some claim to stake in something that wouldn't ever really belong to you, not in the way you wanted it to.

"It feels wrong," you admitted. After hearing the stories they had told about their parents, their grandparents, you felt even more like an intruder, even more than you felt like you didn’t want to belong there.It was an endless tanglement of emotions that you felt pulling you further underwater with each passing moment.

But Josh's features were soft even still, as he halted his task at hand and stepped towards you, leaning against the corner of the island and catching your gaze with his big brown eyes and rosy cheeks and pink lips that a smile hardly ever abandoned.

"A home can be that to many people, no matter how deserving they feel."

You let your eyes fall again, feeling far too vulnerable for your tastes and opting instead to let the silence cement in the air.

A home with Jake and his brothers, carrying on their legacy alongside your own simultaneously. It wasn’t exactly what you had imagined. That was surely no secret. Even if you did come to want it, would you deserve it?

You spoke again after a moment, slowly and quietly, giving Josh no context for your question, not that he really needed it.

“Did he have a choice?”

He was quiet for a moment as he pursed his lips, looking to be deep in thought, or maybe like he didn’t want to give you the answer he had to.

“I’m not sure he felt he did, no.”

You watched as he lifted the bottle of red sitting on the island to pour more into your glass before bringing it to his lips and taking a swig himself.

It was strange the way the silence that fell over you both felt almost comfortable, not like an awkward silence between two strangers might have felt, sending you searching for some meaning behind it in the swirl of the liquid in your glass. Whatever it was about Jake that made you nervous despite the warmth behind his eyes, Josh didn’t have it. It was like you had known him your entire life, like he was your closest friend and most trusted confidant. Not a bad choice for a brother-in-law, as it were.

Although why you were entertaining the thought of actually marrying Jake, even in passing, you weren’t sure.

But you wondered then if it hurt him to watch his brother agree to marry a woman he didn’t love, all because some man had come knocking at his door. A powerful man, too powerful to say no to. He had to have felt it. And if Jake felt it, surely Josh felt it too.

“He certainly doesn’t blame you though,” Josh finally broke the silence.

“You don’t have to say that,” you sighed heavily as you looked up from your glass and met his eyes with remorse clouding your own.

“No, I mean it,” he nodded before a smile broke the lines of his lips. “And I know that because as twins we share our thoughts.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at his remark, dire as the topic at hand seemed. It felt impossible not to smile in Josh’s presence. Such a fitting pair of twins they made.

“He just wants to make you happy,” Josh continued, his voice low and sincere, no hint of a joke anywhere to be found. “You both deserve to be happy.”

You thought back to the offer Jake had made you a few days prior, about letting you see Danny in secret, the offer he had reiterated before dinner, and suddenly you couldn’t help but wonder what exactly it was he was getting in return for all of this. A wife that despised him? An empire he didn’t even care about? Suddenly you felt a pang of guilt prick into your chest at the anger you had hurled at him earlier that very night. Jake wasn’t really getting the better deal. He wasn’t really getting anything, for that matter.

“How do I make him happy when I’m not even happy myself?”

Josh’s eyes met yours for a brief moment before he dropped them to the marble beneath his fingers, likely as he saw the genuineness behind your own. But then he shrugged and cocked his head to the side, looking past you with what you could only describe as theatrical thoughtfulness.

“That one I might have to put some thought into,” he admitted, chuckling to himself as he took another swig of wine straight from the bottle.

His words, although understandable and certainly not pointed in tone or inflection, stung nonetheless. The thought of being doomed, it scared you.

You downed the rest of your drink in silence.

—

Jake stood at the front door with you as you awaited a car to take you home, his fists clenching and unclenching and his eyes fixed to your form as you swayed a bit precariously thanks to the heels you had donned and the wine that had flowed freely, looking like he was resisting the urge to reach out and steady you, perhaps not wanting to push his luck any further that night.

“I can go with you-” he started but you quickly cut him off.

“No, that’s okay. No reason to prolong your night.”

He nodded, perhaps a bit reluctantly, but dropped it nonetheless.

You hadn’t raised your voice with him since his bedroom. In fact, the remainder of the evening after dinner had been served had been quite pleasant, other than the conversation had with Josh in the kitchen, removed from the ears of the other two boys. But now as you stood by the door, the air had gone almost a bit awkward as end-of-the-night pleasantries were exchanged between two people who still hardly knew one another. Better as the night had gone on; not at the level required for marriage.

“You know, my offer still stands,” he started. “Everything I said the other night, I still stand by all of it. You don’t owe me anything.”

You gave him a silent nod as he handed you your coat, this time letting you don it yourself. You weren’t really sure what to say. Of course you still wanted to see Danny, but part of you felt bad for leaving Jake with nothing. Not that he wasn’t perfectly capable of seeing someone else on the side if he wished. Although if your father found out that he was being unfaithful, the consequences likely went much further than your own infidelity being found out. Maybe there were no good options for either of you.

So it begged the question, the question that had been on your mind since you had met him and the question that burned harder even now, now that you knew what he was willing to give up for seemingly nothing in return.

“Why are you doing this?” you asked, voice soft so as not to let the guards or the housekeeper or, god forbid, his supportive, rambunctious brothers hear.

“What do you mean?”

You shrugged.

“Any of this. Try being so nice to me, for starters.”

A soft smile touched his lips as he chuckled and for a moment, he resembled Josh more than he ever had. You watched as he shuffled his feet, his eyes following the movements before he finally raised his gaze back to your face, his soft brown eyes studying your expression.

“Well, being mean to you would kind of just be adding insult to injury at this point.”

Your face never abandoned its seriousness, even as his amusement touched his eyes. Another avoided question before he changed the subject altogether.

“Was tonight terrible for you?” he asked, softer this time, more genuine a topic of his interest apparently.

You decided not to fight him on it, to let him drop it for the night. You could give him that, you supposed.

You shook your head very matter-of-factly. “No, not terrible. I can’t speak for if it had just been us but if you keep your brothers around, it might be enough to stave off the misery.”

A smile teased up at the corner of his lips at your response.

“I’m not going to stop trying to make you like me, I hope you know that.”

You nodded this time, feigning defeat with an exaggerated eye roll.

“No off switch, I know.”

“Does that bother you?”

“I find it incredibly annoying,” you nodded again, just a hint of a smile crossing your lips. A hint it was but it was enough for him to catch, enough to widen his own smile, his face looking entirely illuminated for the first time.

“Annoying,” he mused. “I can work with that.”

The front door opened seemingly on its own as a chauffeur appeared, just in time to witness a genuine laugh fall from your lips at the hand of one Jacob Kiszka, sworn enemy and future husband.

“Yeah, I’m sure you can,” you beamed before you turned your back to him and stepped out the door.

You could hear a laugh from him in return, sincere and bright, as you embarked into the rain, the chauffeur dutifully holding a black umbrella over you as you retreated to the dry interior of the black luxury sedan awaiting you.

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