#vodka and some sass

[villainousshakespeare]

Therapy Fit for a God

Chapter 31

Loki/OFC Rated E: Trigger Warnings (for previous chapters): Smut, Sex, Oral Sex, Angst, talk of suicide, therapy, unhealthy family dynamics, mention of torture and mind control, touch starved, drinking, memory loss.

Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7, Chapter 8, Chapter 9, Chapter 10, Chapter 11, Chapter 12, Chapter 13, Chapter 14, Chapter 15, Chapter 16, Chapter 17, Chapter 18, Chapter 19, Chapter 20, Chapter 21, Chapter 22, Chapter 23, Chapter 24, Chapter 25, Chapter 26, Chapter 27, Chapter 28, Chapter 29

Loki’s plans to conquer and rule Midgard have come to a disastrous end. After being captured by the Avengers, he is being held on Earth. Odin has refused to interfere, and the outlook for the God of Mischief appear bleak. His only hope may lie in one mortal woman, a Psychiatric expert brought in to interrogate him.

Dr. Caroline Thorpe is intrigued by Loki and thinks that more lies beneath his actions than is commonly known. Can she find out the truth before he is shipped off to die for crimes against the Earth? And can Loki bring himself to care?

@yespolkadotkitty@just-the-hiddles@hopelessromanticspoonie@wine-and-whines@arch-venus25@caffiend-queen@devilish–doll@enchantedbyhiddles@hiddlesholic@i-do-not-fangirl-i-fanwoman@kellatron55@ladyoftheteaandblood@latent-thoughts@yespolkadotkitty @myoxisbroken@nuggsmum@nildespirandum@pedeka@redfoxwritesstuff@sinfully-lustful-darling@vodka-and-some-sass@wrathkitty@kingtwhiddleston@wolfsmom1@poetic-fiasco@shiningloki@dangertoozmanykids101@bookworm-christina@amwolowicz@delightfulheartdream@frostbitten-written@what-a-flammable-heart@tom-hlover@nonsensicalobsessions@myraiswack@loki-yoursaviourishere@ghostypau@ms-cellanies @colorfulfreakstudentpizza@mareebird@colorfulfreakstudentpizza @szycha22@chokemedaddyloki@queenofallhobos@just-the-hiddles-reads @alwida10 @justjoanne242 @lovelysizzlingbluebird@lokiprompts@evieplease @bitchassbecky691@georges-left-ear@mischief2sarawr@thedistractedagglomeration

It's back!!! Well, if this isn't the definition of taking too long, I don't know what is. My sincere apologies. It was a long summer. Finally though, I have scratched out some time away with just my hubs and my keyboard, and now that he is in bed I space to write!

It was a relief to Loki that the room he paced back and forth, wearing a proverbial hole in the carpet, was familiar to him. He reminded himself of that fact regularly, in an effort to stave off the worst of the anxiety coursing through him as he waited for his Lady's arrival. No matter what the future held for him from this point forth, at least he knew himself and all that belonged to him, this room included.

Also included, he hoped, was the woman due to arrive at any moment.

It had been a boisterous reunion with when he had finally joined his family where they waited for him to emerge from his procedure. Any event involving Thor was bound to be less than serene, but the nature of his discovery made the atmosphere raucous even by the standards of the Asgardian royal family.

"Brother! I mean Cousin!" Thor had proclaimed, lifting him from his feet in an embrace that had gone near to shattering Loki's rib cage. "Norns take it all, Brother it has always been, and Brother it shall always be!"

"Thank you, Thor," he had wheezed out with the little air left in his lungs.

"I always knew that you and I shared blood. It was as obvious as it is that day turns to night and night to day."

"Yes, our similarities are breathtaking," Loki had replied dryly, doing his best to hide the misty eyed sensation sweeping over him at his brother's declaration. "I am only surprised that the people did not take us for twins."

"Loki, my dear one," Frigga had cut short his sarcasm before Thor had an opportunity to read it and be stung. "Can you ever forgive us for what we have put you through?"

"I have forgave and been forgiven for far worse in my time," Loki had shrugged, accepting a kiss from her on his cheek. "And as it turns out, I was not the only one deceived in this."

"You were not," she had agreed, a spark of anger in her eye that he was grateful was not directed at him.

"So tell me, where is my dearest not-father? I would have thought he would be first to greet me, all eagerness to explain why he was right to keep the true details of my birth from all of us."

"Mother sent him away," Thor's voice had held a note of awe that Loki was completely in agreement with. To his knowledge no one had ever imposed their will upon the great All Father of the Nine Realms.

"Did you?" was all he said aloud as his mind reeled.

"We all needed time to process the truth," Frigga had a voice of vibranium that would have cut through the strongest armor. "It will go easier if we do not have to do so while your father... while Odin spins his version of events. He will be back in time, when we have all had time to consider."

"What have I told you, Thor," Loki had smirked at his brother. "In a battle to the death, I would choose our Mother every time. If, that is, I may still call you mother?"

The hesitation he had felt rocked him tot he very core. Always, Frigga had been the guiding light in his life. Her love may have been flawed, conditional to Odin's laws, but he had always believed in it. Even when he had learned that he was not her son by birth, there had been no other woman to put in her place. Now, now that he had a name and a face to put to the woman who had birthed him, could he still consider Frigga his Mother? Would she want him to?

"Volla may have given you birth," Frigga had said, tears standing in her eyes, "but in all ways that matter, you are my son, Loki. I have always loved you. Knowing that you are the blood of my blood only strengthens that love."

It seemed that there were times when the tears would not be stifled. He had embraced her again, allowing the salt water to flow from his eyes onto her shoulder as he held her to him. It was only as Thor joined them, wrapping them both in his beefy embrace, that he had heard the door to the chamber open and shut and known that Caroline had slipped silently out.

He had wanted to go after her immediately, but an unaccustomed shyness had descended on him. He owed her so much, this tiny but fierce woman of Midgard. Not only was she responsible for this latest revelation of his origin story, but it was due to her that was alive to learn it. Now that he could remember all of the support she had given him over the past weeks, he found himself feeling profoundly unworthy of so steadfast a woman. He needed something to show her that he knew just how lucky he was to have her in his life and in his corner.

"Mother," he had asked, enjoying the sensation of saying it once more without the sarcasm. "I have a favor to ask of you."

"Name it, my son. If it is in my power, it is yours."

"Now that is a dangerous statement if ever I heard it," Thor had said with a rumble of laughter, as Loki began to lay out what he wished for.

His mother, as always, had been as good as her word. Loki paused his pacing now to once more needlessly take inventory of his pocket universe, making sure the precious item was safely locked away for the right moment.

A light tap on the door brought him swinging around to stare at it for a moment. An unaccustomed wave of uncertainty threaded down his spine, causing his heart to beat an irregular tattoo. He wanted so much for the next series of minutes to go as he hoped. It had been longer than he could remember, now that he had memories to recall, since he had wanted anything so much.

"Loki, are you in there?" the clear, musical voice called. "Your mother said you wanted to see me."

He realized suddenly that he had stayed rooted to the spot and moved in a dash to cross the room and open the door. He smiled as he saw the small woman standing there, green dress bringing out the color of her eyes and the roses in her lips.

"My darling Caroline," he breathed, calming as his eyes met hers. "To call you lovely would be a drastic understatement. Won't you come in?"

"Of course," she smiled at him. "How are you feeling? You did have quite a morning."

"And you," he replied, ushering her into his space, "have had quite a month. Give or take."

"Fair," she acknowledged with a laugh. "We have both been through quite the wringer lately."

Loki watched her mouth as the corners tilted up and yearned to kiss it. Everything in him was telling him to gather her into his arms and not let her go until she was breathless from his embrace. But he had a question to put to her, and he wanted them both to be clear headed when he did.

"Loki, what is wrong?" she asked him, peering up at him through troubled eyes. "You do remember me, don't you?"

"I remember everything," he said, caress seeping into the words. "I remember your bravery, your strength of will, the way you put your career, your very life on the line to help me, a veritable stranger from an alien race. I remember how right it felt to hold you in my arms, and the passion we discovered together when at last I had you in my bed. Oh, min kajesta, I remember it all."

Her face had turned a beguiling shade of red while he spoke, and he watched as the pupils in her eyes dilated at his words. Once more pull to have her without a moment to loose overtook him. Just speaking her praise out loud had him straining against his leather trousers with desire.

"I am glad," she managed to squeak out, eyes darting down and up again.

Caroline made a move towards him and Loki sprung into action, darting around the table and lifting a bottle of wine to offer her.

"May I pour you a glass, darling? I promise it is not the normal Asgardian vintage, but a perfectly respectable Chateaux Margot from Midgard."

"That would be nice," she sounded confused. "Loki, tell me what is bothering you? I promise, I will accept it, whatever it is."

"Of course you will, sweetheart," he sighed, pouring the wine into two glasses and handing one to her. "Just as you accepted every other facet of my disreputable life."

"Well, I don't so much know if I accept the invasion and all the destruction that went with it," she qualified, "but I do understand the mitigating factors. But please, for the sake of my sanity, tell me what is wrong."

"My darling, since the moment you met me, bound in that cell, your life has been in upheaval. I have torn you away from your work, your friends, your home. Your very life has been threatened on numerous occasions. It cannot have been an easy time for you."

"Not easy, no," she agreed, face scrunching adorably as she considered his words. "But at it was never dull. In all honesty Loki, there were days when I thought I lost you that were horrible. You can ask Tony at some point, or Bruce, I was a basket case. But as long as you were with me, I always believed that things would somehow work out. It was only when you were gone that I was panicked."

"Ah yes, Stark and Banner," he said their names with a grimace. "They are just the problem."

"Why? I thought you and Tony had bonded? And yes, I understand that Bruce might not be your favorite person, given the Hulk smashing, but -"

"You misunderstand me, love," he interrupted her. "I am not disparaging the Midgardian heroes. I will not even say anything against that blind menace who despite his infirmity managed to look inappropriately at you. No, it just that they are, well, heroes. That is what you are used to consorting with, Caro."

"I have not consorted with any of them!"

"I do not mean it in that way," he smiled at her, grateful despite the misunderstanding to hear that she had not been more than a colleague with any of them. "I simply mean that you spent your time on Earth with a certain type of man. The heroic, selfless type to be specific."

"I would hardly call Tony selfless," she scoffed.

"You are deliberately deflecting what I am trying to say," he ground out, frustrated that she was interrupting him. "This is hard for me darling, please let me finish."

"Sorry," she mumbled, face not loosing its impatient look.

"With the caveat that Stark is possibly the only person alive as self interested as I am," he admitted, ceding her the point, "you are part of a team of heroes. Yes, there are times when certain members of that team do things that go against that code of ethics, as when they wanted to execute me without a proper trial, but for the most part, those that you surround yourself with are paragons of humanity, struggling to do what is right and just."

"Alright," she said slowly as he paused. "I might have some issues with parts of what you said, but I will grant you the basic premise. I work with a team of good guys. What is your point?"

"My point, my love, is that I am not a hero. I am a seriously flawed semi-reformed super villain at best."

"Loki," she said, face contorting to hide what looked suspiciously like laughter, "is that what you think?"

"It is the truth."

"Have you not been paying attention?" she asked in frustration, flopping down into one of his chairs and taking a long drink of wine. "Very good by the way. Alright, where to begin... How may times have you saved Thor's life? When you would go on your missions for Asgard before his thwarted coronation?"

"Countless, particularly if you take into account the times I kept him from saying or doing something dramatically stupid."

"And by how many of those missions was Asgard kept safe?"

"All of them, but it is not the same thing."

"Isn't it? You were fighting to protect your home. It is no different from what Tony does on Earth. And when we came up with the plan to retrieve the Mind Stone, the very thing that had caused you so much pain and torture, did you Tony, Thor, and I go alone? No, even though it was not your world that hung in the balance, you put your life on the line, not to mention your sanity, and helped us keep the jewel from falling into unsafe hands. What do you call that?"

"Righting a wrong I myself committed."

"But that's my point!" she insisted, sloshing wine onto the carpet as she gestured for effect. "Everyone commits wrongs. No hero is perfect. Not Matt, not Bruce, certainly not Tony. It doesn't matter if you make mistakes. What matters is that you when you do, you try to make them right. You are a hero, Loki, not because you are perfect, but because you try."

"You don't think I'm perfect?" he asked with a smirk and a raised eyebrow that sent a flood of desire through her.

"I plead the fifth," she said, bringing a confused look to his face. "Loki, let me put it this way. You are all the hero I need."

"You are sure?"

"More sure than I have ever been about anything in my life. I love you, Loki."

"Well in that case," Loki took a big breath and reached into his pocket universe, "I would like to offer you this."

With all of his nerves ready to snap, he held out the small golden apple in his hand to her.

***

Caroline had been looking forward to this moment with Loki for what seemed like ages. First she had thought him gone, most likely dead if not dying. Then, just when she had found out that he was alive, his memory was wiped out, taking all of his knowledge of their relationship. She had white knuckled it through the past few days when Loki, lacking his memories, had nonetheless invited intimacies with her, ones she desperately wanted, but felt guilty indulging in with his altered state.

Now, at last, the were both healthy and whole, minds in tact. She wanting nothing in the world but to have a sizable amount of time together, alone.

She had slipped out of the room when Loki had emerged from his procedure and greeted his family. Yes, she had been separated from a fully functional Loki for days, but his separation from his family had been going on for longer. It was important, she thought, to give Loki, Frigga, and Thor a moment to reforge their frayed family bond. Watching all of the love his mother and brother surrounded him with had made Caroline happy, but she still felt as yet a bit of an outsider, not sharing the centuries of history with the three. A quiet exit seemed the most tactful action she could take.

Now at last, it was her turn. Loki had sent her a message asking that she meet him in his rooms. Suppressing a thrill she let her mind wander to why he might want to meet her there. Could it have anything to do with the large, comfy bed that dominated the room? Caroline could only hope.

Her pulse was racing as she knocked on the door. The few doors down from where she herself had been allotted quarters was long enough to amp up her excitement to a fever point.

The Loki who answered the door was not the one she had been expecting. Judging by Loki's actions in all of there previous time together, Caroline would have expected him to pounce on her. They had wasted so much time apart, be it mentally or physically, that even a few moments not in his arms seemed a crime to her. He, on the other hand appeared determined to keep the whole room between them. Why?

She tried to track his thoughts as Loki rambled on, to answer sensibly about all that they had gone through, to defend him against himself, but as he kept talking, her mind was screaming for him to throw her onto the bed that loomed just behind him and ravish her. What was taking him so long?

"You don't think I'm perfect?" Loki asked, seizing on and twisting a comment she had made in the midst of trying to convince him not to belittle himself. His look, cocky and knowing, sent a wave of lust so strong through her that Caroline pressed her thighs together to counter it.

"I plead the fifth," she said, forgetting for a moment that he would have scant knowledge of American legal terms. "Loki, let me put it this way. You are all the hero I need."

"You are sure?" he seemed intent on the point, as though their futures depended on it.

"More sure than I have ever been about anything in my life. I love you, Loki." It really was as simple as that.

"Well in that case, I would like to offer you this."

Caroline didn't know what she had been expecting. Jewelry perhaps? His empty had to pull her close to him? Certainly she had not been expecting a small, perfectly formed golden apple. She could tell from the look on his face that it was important, but she had no idea in what way. Distantly, she thought she might have seen something about an apple in that large encyclopedia she had paged through in his cabin, she couldn't remember what the significance was. She was fairly certain it was nothing to do with the Frost Giant side of his heritage.

"Thank you?" she said uncertainly, reaching for the apple.

"You don't understand, do you?" he guessed, reading her. "Of course not, how could you. Caroline, min kajesta, I want to spend the rest of my life with you."

"I want that too, Loki," she said, beaming from the inside.

"No, you misunderstand me, my love," he smiled again, getting down on one knee in front of her chair and caressing the side of her face. "I want to spend not just the rest of your life, the short life of a mortal, with you, but the mine. The lifespan of a God."

"Loki, I am not a God, or a Goddess," she laughed nervously at the very idea.

"To me you are the very definition of Goddess," he told her, eyes brimming with love. "You are wise, gentle, strong, loving, and, to be quite candid, the most desirable creature I have ever met. All you are missing is longevity. And this apple can give it to you."

"What?" she must be hearing him wrong, she thought.

"The Golden Apples of Idun can grant a sort of immortality to any who eat them," he explained quietly. "They can, in short, turn a mortal into a God."

"How many are there?" she asked, stalling for time.

"At the moment? Three. When you have eaten one, there will be two. But fret not, more will grow. I a thousand years or so, another will take this one's place."

"Loki, I can't take that! It is too precious for me."

"The stars are not too precious for you, my dearest love," he told her seriously. "I would steal them all for you."

"Did you steal the apple?" she asked.

"I would have, if I had to, but I did not. Frigga called in a favor from Idun and procured it for me."

"Frigga did that?"

"She did. She loves me, it seems. And she thinks you are good for me. She is right, you are far too good for me, but I intend to have you nonetheless. Will you have me, min kajesta? Will you share this long life we me as we commit mischief across the galaxy? Say yes, love. Please."

"Loki," she said his name like a prayer. "Yes, my love."

#Loki #loki/ofc #fanfic #Loki fanfic #Thor #Avengers #Frigga #Therapy #romance #recovery #love #true love #future sexy times #I promise #It's back!!! #sorry for the delay #Please forgive me #Loki makes a big ask

[pop-punklouis]

Lunch with Louis experience + LONGER SONG DETAILS:

Hiiiii. Okay, I’m sitting at the airport at 5 AM. Just dropped my friend off, so i’m ready to write up the experience and have it queued to post later while i’m sleeping for eternity ✨

My friend and I got there early, and we met up with a few of the fans that i was in a group chat with for the lunch. it ended up being such a wonderful experience, because a few of us just rallied around each other and made it feel like such a safe and encouraging space— especially for fans who were more anxious. One of them won and came from south america and she was the sweetest, but she was incredibly nervous so we tried to support her as best we could to take her nerves away. but the love that radiated from our group was some of the best energy i’ve been around in a fan setting in a long time, and it definitely made the experience even more meaningful and fun.

anyways! when we got in, so much of the staff were louies. the hostess, the photographer, and a few of the waitresses were fans, and one of them had on a really cool louis-inspired cardigan. her and i gushed over each other’s jackets before our group made it upstairs. we all got to sit at tables and order whatever food and drink we wanted, and our group was able to all sit together. i ordered a vodka cran, because i was sweating it friends. i needed the liquid courage because it was setting in that all of this was actually happening. so, we were all sipping on our drinks and holding hands and playing off each other’s energy. i had the privilege to sit in the perfect sight of the back door (a sliver of view in between the banner they put up to cover the lounge that louis and his team were inevitably going to occupy), so i was able to keep a look out and see when he actually arrived. we also had passed this napkin around the entire room with people speculating what he was going to wear, and it was funny because the radio interviewer mentioned it once the show started, and louis thought it was funny and called the room out on it.

so, when it finally started, and he came out from behind the banner… it was surreal because he was just. right there ya know? and he looked great in his tommy hilfiger long-sleeve. he looked so soft and sleepy 🤧 but knowing he was THERE? was a lot to take in. i was surprised with how well Gino (the radio DJ) did with interviewing louis. he asked some great questions that louis was super engaged with, and they recorded it so i’m hoping they post that and the fan Q&A soon. after the interview is when he hopped back to the lounge and we went straight into the listening party which was. pure insanity. from the very moment written all over your face came through the speakers, i got up and took a couple of my friends with me and started dancing. then the rest of our group from the right two tables quickly followed and our group was just dancing and grooving. our reactions together were so fun and warm. i wish the whole room got up, but it was just us unfortunately. being able to experience new louis music with fans who adore louis and are that excited for his upcoming album was incredible. it was an experience and a memory i’ll take with me for a long time (it also helped loosen up all of our nerves which was nice). both krystle and oli were looking over at us from the lounge and had the biggest smiles on their faces ✨ and the station took so many snapshots of us dancing so i’m also hoping they post those soon.

*longer details about the songs*

Written all over your face: a mixture between grunge-rock and pop-punk. the guitars were absolutely insane. such a fast heat, and it hits you immediately from the moment it starts. it has such a sass punk edge to its chorus, and that’s what made me headbang so hard that both of my earrings came out lol. you guys are not ready for this song in particular. she's the main character of this era 1000% pop punk princess! it has a rowdy-rough energy offering a pop-rocks-like sizzle. it’s difficult not to imagine the absolute charge this song will have in a live setting. an anthemic track that rattles about with such an air of confidence both in sound and in vocal tone. for anyone who listens to the maine, this song 1000% feels like it could fit perfectly into their American Candy album era. that’s the best description i can give.

face the music: the heat only grows as we slip into this song. as i said yesterday, this one was heavily influenced by the early pop-punk, alt-rock scenes. it’s a much more condensed and slicker version of written all over your face. while WAOYF is rough and jagged, this song is tighter in production. the bridge is such a shining moment in this song. it has infectious chants that settle into bands such as reliant k, jimmy eat world, all-american rejects, the nothing personal era of all time low, and even english bands such as blur. the “WHOA WHOA WHOAs” that build right before the last chorus had us all absolutely barking and racing around each other to build up energy.

saturdays: from the moment this one came on, we just did a little group huddle and swayed together throughout its runtime. it’s definitely a sadder track. as i mentioned yesterday, it’s one of the best if not the best ballad he’s ever written. it has a very laidback feel. his vocals and harmonies with himself shine bright throughout this song. the bridge of the saturdays has such a soaring quality to it, and i wish i could understand or pay attention to more lyrics throughout the whole listening portion but we were having so much fun just living in the moment of it all. the only one i remember vividly from this one is: “saturdays used to take the pain away” which ends the chorus. it’s melancholic and nostalgic. i think this song transcends its surface meaning once you really get into the meat of it, and it could be about so many things both externally and internally. excited to hear how everyone interprets the song.

all this time: another laidback tune, but it has such a resistive melodic undertaking. fuzzy synths, mellow charm, wavier feel. it has the influence of 2015 tame impala, and it just feels right to listen to it on a night drive, wind whipping through your air, friends in the passenger seats singing along. it has a very ambient, chill wave foundation. definitely one of the tracks louis talked about implemented more dance-like elements to. and it fits perfectly in that indie-electronica arena.

when it comes to the departure from walls, FITF so far feels more deconstructed. it isn’t slick. it isn’t perfectly packaged. the colors are meant to bleed, the scissor lines purposefully jagged, and the lyrics raw. it doesn’t stand out for its polished appeal like walls does. it stands out for being everything opposite— everything red hot and haphazard and gritty. it’s louis musical mind and influences all packed into the four songs we got to listen to, and if this is just a taste of the record…. i cannot imagine what it feels like to listen to in whole.

(gonna try and make the rest of this quick) so! afterwards, we all sat back down and louis came back out and the fan questions began. the DJ had us write down our questions and then give them to him so he could shuffle through and pick some of the best to ask. i wrote mine the night before so i just gave him my sheet of ten questions djfjfkfk but the very moment they sat down to do the Q&A, the DJ goes “okay so the very first question comes from Hope.” and he looked for me, so i stood up and pointed at myself, and they both looked over. then he continues, “and she has to be like an investigative journalist or something because she wrote down a whole list of questions” and i said “i’m a music journalist gino!!!!” which made both of them laugh.

but the moment louis saw me he immediately was like “i LOVE your jacket” and i got so excited i twirled around real fast to show the back and he giggled and said “oh you’re doing a twirl for me.” but the thing about the jacket is that i wasn’t right at the very front of the tables, so there was no way he could see it to even know it was inspired by him/his album. i’m assuming someone from his team had to have walked by while we were dancing or listening to the first interview and saw it (because both matt and oli walked around a little bit during that time), and then told him about it (or maybe he peered out from where the lounge was and saw) because there truly was no way??? which is just 🤧 anyways, when he heard i was a music journalist, he turned his chair and attention straight towards me and raised his eyebrows. he was all like “oh really?? that’s awesome wow hi there” and then gino asked one of my questions (which was “what was the first song you wrote for the new album” and he said it was a great Q and he went into the details but ultimately stated it was probably chicago) but after he answered, he looked intently again at me and said “all the luck with music journalism really hoping for the best for you on that path” (or something like that) with such a wide smile and i wanted to just die on the spot because???? 🥹 i cant remember his exact thoughts with everyone’s questions but they were all really good, so i hope they recorded that part and it gets posted soon.

then for the m&g portion ✨👐🏼 we went up in pairs, so both my friend alex and i went up together (she was my +1), and they were like “okay everyone needs to hurry to keep this rolling” and we both just. ignored them LMFAO and had our individual moments with louis. i went straight in for the hug the moment we locked orbs, and he hugged so tightly. he smelled like cashmere and vanilla, and i think the only reason i smelled a bit of stale cigarette smoke is because my head was in the crook of his neck when we hugged since my arms wrapped around his neck. and for everyone who stated how much of a calming presence he was :( it’s definitely true. i felt so calm even coming up to him. but! i immediately was like “i’m going to try and make this quick, but i have something i need to tell you” and so that’s where in my photos you see him start intensely engaging with me as i’m speaking. basically what i said was: “back in 2020 when walls came out, i was feeling super uninspired and burnt out as a writer. but when i was able to listen and review your album, it helped me fall back in love with writing about music again so i wanted to thank you for creating an album that brought back that purpose for me” and he looked so thoughtful and appreciative. he said: “Oh really? Whoa, that’s— that means so much to me to hear my album helped you find your love for music writing again.” and then i went on to say: “when the review was posted, it got such an overwhelming response for my independent publication that it helped us pay our staff consistently for the first time ever which is still part of the reason we can pay our staff the way we do 3 years later. so wanted to thank you in person for creating music that helped me as a writer and helped one of the last truly independent music sites stay kicking” and he was just. like he truly was 🧿🧿 but with 🥺 and that’s where in my last photo you see him touch his chest and state how much that meant to him, how it moved him, and he was so happy to be told that. then he and alex had a great interaction because she brought him an atlanta football jersey which he went bananas over and he loved it and her. so we just had such a great time ❤️‍🩹 so then i asked if i could hug him while we took our photo and he said “sure love go for it” which 🫶🏼🥲

but then it was over, and we all left and sat on the ground and had a little crying moment together as a community over meeting louis and hugging louis lmao like after-experience processing was a wild time. our group then went to go eat and gush about it all together, and it was just such a loving and unforgettable experience. from him to the fans i became closer with…. i couldn’t have asked for a better day like yesterday was genuinely one of the best if not the best days of my life, and i’m going to try and ride this high for the rest of the year. because so much shit has happened this year that has made things unbearable, but yesterday felt like the universe was giving me a warm but tight hug and i cannot ever thank her enough for the opportunity ✨💕

[latelyanobsession]

Strap In

summary billy’s had his eyes on you for quite some time, but you couldn’t care less. he’s made multiple attempts to catch your attention only to hit a brick wall each time. tonight there’s a big bash at Loch Nora just before spring break ends. is tonight his night, or should he tap out now?

warnings underage drinking, cursing, cat and mouse games

word count 1,046

note in fulfillment of a reader request. took a little bit for me to get some muse worked out for this... but hopefully i worked it out ok. i recognize i took this in a bit of a different direction, but it felt appropriate. the prompt - “I was wondering whether you would be up to write a oneshot where Billy meets f!reader on a party, they r both kinda drunk, but he has been trying to get with her since like months but she always rejected him. But now she finally cracks and gives in and they make out n stuff. And if possible could u make Billy like reaaally flirty and kinda whipped for the reader, bc she is really cocky and gives him all the sass.”

As always any feedback is much appreciated. Thanks for reading!

The music was deafening. Bodies were everywhere. Teens spilling out in every direction onto the lawn and the whole thing was threatening to erupt into a full blown block party.

Nobody was really sure where it had all started. Flyers were fluttering around the school halls all last week. 

Paper airplanes tumbling into the applesauce at your lunch table. Leaflets crammed by the fistful through the slots in people’s lockers. Stuffed so thick that the doors jammed. 

No one knew where they came from, but one thing was certain. The invites were clear. Everyone who’s anyone was gonna be there. Even the wannabes and posers were hopeful of being noticed if they attended.

Being held at one of the largest homes in Loch Nora, it wasn’t clear whom the home belonged to, but nobody really cared as the music cranked louder and the drinks began to pour. 

Such questions were the furthest things from anyone’s mind. Including yours.

You were in your element.

Standing near the speakers with your friends, you swayed your hips in time to the beat. 

A second drink already in hand, a nice buzz humming its way through your veins and warming you up from head to toe.

The night was young and full of possibilities.

Shifting tracks, the beat dropped.

You waved to some newcomers, throwing a wink at an old flame, and another at a potential one for the end of the night.

Bringing the cup to your lips you frowned. 

Empty.

“I’ll be back!” you shouted in your friend’s ear, tilting your cup upside down. 

Fidgeting with the cup in your hand you headed into the kitchen looking for something new to try. The liquor cabinet had been busted open and the variety was endless.

No more spritzers or wine coolers.

Fingering your way along the bottles you eyed the selection.

“Eeny... meeny... miny.” your fingertips dancing back and forth between the coconut rum and lemon vodka. 

“Moe.” you smiled happily at the bottle you had chosen, as a hand wrapped around yours.

“Well, well...” he drawled, pulling his hand from atop yours and tracing it up your arm.

“I was wonderin when you’d turn up.” he slid in close.

You snorted smugly, shrugging him off.

Spinning the cap off the bottle, you carelessly flicked it away.

“I was getting bored without you...” he teased.

“Honey, it’s never a party without me.” you smugly replied, pouring yourself a generous serving, putting the bottle back on the counter and looking for a mixer to add.

“Been here long?” he asked.

“Who wants to know?” you quipped, adding a splash of fruit juice into your cup with some seltzer water.

You brought it to your mouth to taste, smacking your lips in satisfaction.

“Well I for one...” he smirked, pulling the cup from your hand and taking a long drink.

“and for another...” he leaned in attempting to kiss you.

You turned your head, grabbing your cup back and waving at another friend. Or at least someone who looked like her.

“Really smooth...” you taunted, “but points for trying.”

You patted his chest sympathetically before walking away.

Yelling, and crushing cups as you reunited with your friends.

Billy was going to have to try harder than that.

The night went on. And you were feeling more wild by the minute. You had to get some air.

Your head was starting to swim a bit, and you knew from past experience at Tina’s Christmas party that it was time to slow down. Or you would be in for a rough night and a rougher morning.

Coming out to the back porch you found an empty lounge chair, messily throwing yourself into it.

Giggling happily, looking out at your classmates in the yard.

“Down already?” a voice called from beside you.

Blinking owlishly, you looked around.

“Oh! Hey Billy!” you smiled dumbly. “Nah. Just pacing myself”

You slumped down in the chair. Nearly sliding out entirely. Laughing.

He rolled his eyes.

Coming over, he helped you back upright, seating himself next to you.

“I think you’ve had too much.” he stated.

“N’ I think you haven’t had enough!” you replied, poking his chest.

He smiled, a small exhale of a laugh leaving him. “Yeh, alright.”

Making sure you weren’t going to topple over he went to leave.

You grabbed his hand.

“Y’know what?” a great look of concern was in your eyes, as you laced your fingers with his.

“What?” he waited.

“I think it’s stupid that I’ve been so mean to you this whole time. Reeeeaaal stupid.” You leaned on him.

He looked at you, mildly amused.

“Mean to me?” he probed.

“Yeah!” you piped up, “I mean I like you! I just don’t have any guts at all! So I’m mean to you!”

You regarded him with sorrowful eyes, “how stupid is that!?”

“Real stupid...” he replied.

“I know!” you shouted in agreement.

He laughed. “So ya like me huh?”

“Oh yeh!” you nodded.

“How much?” he prompted. He knew he shouldn’t put too much credence into this whole conversation, but he just couldn’t help himself.

“This much!” you mused, cupping his face and kissing him.

Billy froze. He didn’t expect that.

He’d been the one coming after you for weeks on end. Not the other way around.

And now here you were, drunk as a skunk, laying one on him.

There was an internal struggle going on in Billy’s mind. 

Don’t take advantage dipshit.... but she’s gonna forget this by morning. Well maybe...

You were truly causing a panic within him.

Very hesitantly he kissed you back. Gently, with no intent.

He pulled away. You whined in disappointment.

You looked at him questioningly.

His cheeks were flushed, as he avoided your eyes.

“I can’t do this... not when you’re... like this.” He rose from his seat, rubbing the back of his neck.

This was a mistake.

“I’ll see ya tomorrow...” he went to walk off.

“Billy?” you looked up at him.

“Yeah?” he breathed.

“You better ask me out tomorrow...” you warned.

He laughed.

“I’ll be sure to remind you...” he chuckled.

Finding an abandoned pack of cigarettes and lighter someone else had left behind, you lit one.

“You better strap in...” you exhaled, smirking.

He matched your expression. “Ditto.”

#billy hargrove oneshot #billy hargrove #billy hargrove x reader #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things imagine #stranger things headcanon #stranger things oneshot #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #stranger things x y/n #billy stranger things #billy hargove imagine #billy hargrove headcanon #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove fanfiction

[lesbian-dp]

Thigh Mega Tampon

Kinktober 2022

Day Sixteen

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Words: 1,954

Warnings: Drunk sex, dirty dancing, one night stand, strangers, outdoor sex, table sex, almost getting caught, shotgunning, underage drinking, smoking weed (duh), clumsy sex, spit, packing ruined orgasm

Request: No.

Summary: You thought the party was a bust... until it ended.

A/N: This one was kinda hard to do, ngl.

Ko-Fi

Commissions

(Not my pics)

18+ ONLY

---

"Whoo! Kappa Beta Gamma, forever!"

You cringed at the drunken scream of the large, blonde man. Watching as the cheap beer sloshed out of his red cup, splashing across the floor and soaking into his white shirt.

"God, I can't believe I'm here."

A chuckle from your side, "You were the one who suggested coming to this thing."

"Yeah, because I wanted to find someone to hook up with. Not to be surrounded by drunken frat boys."

"Gee, thanks," Wanda sassed humouredly.

You scoffed at the brunette, "Don't act like you're not here for the same thing."

"Only if I find someone who takes my interest," Wanda tried, raising her nose into the air, peering away from you.

The chuckle that bubbled from your chest couldn't be controlled, shaking your head at your friend. Before you followed her line of sight, only to find a college student drinking and conversing with his friends.

"Ah, seems you've already found someone already," you noted with a nod, "You really are picky, aren't you, Wands?"

Your reply was a swift jab into your ribs with her elbow, huffing as you watched her walk away towards the blonde man.

"And then there was one."

With a sigh, and your hands on your hips, you surveyed the bouncing frat house. Spotting partygoers dancing, playing beer pong, practically having sex in every corner, pounding drinks and shots in the kitchen. And some, even taking their escapades up the staircase, heading towards the many bedrooms.

Deciding you needed a drink to get through this, you made your way into the kitchen filled with bottles of liquor lining the counters.

"You wanna pour me one of those too?" a husky voice came from behind you, making your brows raize and peer over your shoulder.

With that one look, you already had your sights set on her. Hoping to take her home later that night.

With her fiery red hair, piercing green eyes, and full lips.

What could you say? You were a sucker for a pretty girl.

You raised the vodka for her to see, lightly shaking it side-to-side. You asked, "You want it mixed with anything?"

"No."

Your eyes glanced the girl up and down, evaluating if she could take straight vodka or not, especially with her short size. Which she picked up on. Easily. Ticking a brow at you, daring you to speak your judgements.

"You sure?"

"I'm Russian," she replied with a hand on her hip, "I can handle straight vodka. I was drinking it while you were still drinking apple juice."

"Your poor liver," you said dryly, pouring some vodka into a red cup before handing it off to her.

The red-head shrugged, slowly drawing the alcohol to her lips as she spoke, "It mainly just gave me a high tolerance." She then threw you a wink. "See you later, sugar."

You licked your lips as you watched her walk from the room, heading straight to where college students were dancing close together, and the bass-filled dance music shook the room.

Almost as if she could feel your eyes on her, she looked over her shoulder, sending you a smirk, before she quickly moved to dance with her friends.

With that look in her eye and the smirk pulling against her lips, you gathered that she was interested in you too.

Hours dwindled by, and you proceeded to get drunker and drunker. A buzzing filled your body, along with a clouded mind.

You had found your way back to the red-head, who you had poured a drink for, hands pressed to each other's bodies as you danced close together, drink in hand, further inhibiting your senses, as the woman only intoxicated you further.

The bouncing music could be felt in your bones, her chest pressed against yours, arms thrown over your shoulders, drink hanging loosely at your back, her free hand threaded into your hair.

No words had to be spoken between the two of you. Like magnets drawn to one another, you were slowly pulled towards the red-heads lips.

Sadly, her friends pulled her away before your lips ever met hers, dragging her away to talk to a group of guys while she peered over her shoulder towards you, lips formed into a frown, silently apologising to you.

You couldn't believe how hard you were getting cockblocked.

With a shake of your head, you decided to refill your drink, hoping to quench your thirst for the red-head with more alcohol.

Hours later, the party was dwindling down in the early morning hours.

You hadn't seen the captivating woman you had hoped to take home that night since her friends had stolen her away from you.

Wanda had gone back to the blonde's apartment, wishing you luck on your own escapades.

The air was chilly, and the sky dark. A light breeze, cutting through those outside, you being one of them. Dressed in only a T-shirt and jeans, you were able to withstand the cold biting air. Blowing out puffs of sweet, earthy-smelling smoke, looking like fog surrounding the darkened trees, before disappearing.

"You're still here?" It was more of a statement than a question.

Looking up and to the side, you found Natasha watching you with a small smile on her face.

Throwing her one back, you asked, "And so are you. Should I be worried that your friends will come by and sweep you away again?" you finished, taking another drag of your joint.

"No." The red-head chuckled, shaking her head as she moved to sit down beside you. "They've all gone home or to guys' places."

"And they left you all alone."

"You're alone, too."

"Touche," you chuckled, "Why'd they drag you off anyway?"

"They were trying to set me up with a guy who's had a crush on me for years."

"And you don't like him back?"

"He's not my type."

With the way the red-head looked at you, it felt like her green eyes were staring deep into your soul, warming you up in the cold night. Her shoulder leaned into yours, telling you all that you needed to know.

Sending her a smile, you offered her the joint.

"I've never smoked weed before," she uttered almost bashfully.

"But you've been drinking vodka for how long?" you joked.

She rolled her eyes, "Shut up."

"Come 'ere." You motioned her towards you, gesturing for her to turn towards you. Pulling the joint from your lips, taking another drag. "Open your mouth."

When she did, you held onto her jaw, pulling her closer to you so that her lips brushed against yours. Automatically, she inhaled the smoke you blew out for her, pupils blowing wide with how intimate and seductive the action was.

"Will that even work?" she asked, blinking heavily.

"How about I keep doing it, and we can see?"

The red-head solidified your suggestion with the kiss that you were both desperate for on the makeshift dancefloor, tasting the weed on your lips, more so on your tongue.

She wasn't high, not really, but she was drunk. Not so much that she was swaying and wouldn't be able to remember anything the next day. You were in the same position, only with the added fuzziness that the marijuana had given you.

The partygoers had been playing beer pong outside hours before, when the part was still buzzing, and there weren't people passed out around the large frat house. The only people awake and still present were the ones busy cleaning up some, and the two pressed against the beer pong table around the scattered plastic cups on the ground.

The red-head panted against your lips as you pressed her into the table, her legs wrapped around your waist, holding you close as you rutted into her. Shirt pushed up, bundled just under her full breasts. The hot, taught skin of her abdomen reviling in the cold air.

You peppered kisses down the side of her neck, humming into her skin, sending vibrations through her body. Causing her back to arch, pushing her chest into you, hips grinding into you further.

"You're so fucking hot," you spoke into her neck, "The minute I saw you, I knew that I wanted you." A heavy kiss to her full lips. "You're fuckin' captivating."

"I felt the exact same way," she uttered, holding your cheeks between her palms, pulling your lips with every kiss, "You were stupidly hot pouring those drinks. I wanted to jump you right then and there. Take one of those rooms up for the night."

"I would have let you."

She giggled as you began unbuttoning her black jeans, which she quickly helped you tug them from her body, along with her underwear. Leaving her fully naked from the waist down.

Leaning down, you spit a great glob of saliva against the red-head's clit, rubbing two of your fingers against the nub as she whimpered before you quickly thrust into her.

The table rocked and creaked underneath as you pounded her into the hardwood. Strap, slipping and sliding within her, her wetness making it pop out and land on her clit, thrusting into it a few times before you stuffed her full once more.

The red-head's legs were thrown over your shoulders, calfs resting on them, the girl bracing herself against her forearms, pushing herself up to meet you in passion-filled kisses, separated only by gasps and whispers of pleasure.

You couldn't help but scatter kisses across her bare chest. Shirt hiked up high above her breasts, cups of her bra pulled down under them. Taking a nipple into your mouth, you sucked against the sensitive flesh, making the woman groan into the early morning air.

Feeling the sharp tug against the back of your hair, you removed your lips from her tit with a pop, peering up at the red-head, letting her pull you into another hot and heavy kiss.

"Oh, holy shit," she whined against your lips, rearing down against each of your thrusts, one arm bracing herself behind her, as the other still held onto the back of your head, "I'm so fuckin' close. I'm gonna come- Please make me come."

You smirked against her plump lips, hips speeding up to do as she wished. Until that lust-filled haze was lifted and instead was replaced with cold panic, as far-off voices could be heard nearing the backyard.

The red-head's eyes matched yours, blowing wide with fear of possibly getting caught in the next few seconds.

Quicker than you ever imagined, you pulled your clothes back on. Well, yours was easy to solve. All you had to do was shove your strap back into your pants and pull them back up your thighs.

However, the woman you had the pleasure of fucking had a much bigger task. She pulled her bra up and tugged her shirt back down, that was easy enough. She chose to skip the underwear altogether and instead jump straight into her jeans. Her red panties being shoved into your hands, she quickly grabbed her discarded shoes, and you both ran from the garden just as the students rounded the opposite side of the frat house.

You had the girl pressed up against the white slats of the building, giggling into each others skin at the close call.

"I'm Y/N, by the way," you panted against her chest.

The red-head giggled into the sky, slowly turning into lighter shades of blue, as the sun rose over the college town.

"I'm Natasha."

"Well, Natasha." You removed yourself from her, hazily grinning up at the beautiful woman. "Do you wanna come back to my place so we can finish this off?"

Her sultry smile was the only answer you needed.

---

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#original work #original fanfiction #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff #marvel #MCU

[cevansbrat0007]

Disobedient

Summary: Andy doesn’t like it when you keep secrets. He likes it even less when you disobey him. And this time around, it looks like you might’ve bitten off more than you can chew.

Warnings: Spanking, Daddy Kink, Brat!Reader, Mean Daddy!Andy Barber, Punishments, Elements of Domestic Discipline, Clothed Male Nude Female (CMNF), Pet Names, Timeout, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Prompt courtesy of an Anon Reader. This is part of my ongoing Growing Pains Series. As always, I’d love your feedback, so please let me know what you think. Semi-proofread. Not beta’d. All mistakes are my own.

____

Andy Bear: Ass. Home. Now.

You glare down at your phone, feeling particularly defiant. You had long since decided that you would return home when you were good and ready. And not a moment before!

You: Nope.

Andy Bear: Excuse me, little girl. You do not get to tell me no. Especially after I already told you not to leave the house. 

His text makes you shrug. You go to take another sip of your cocktail. Andy Barber could go fuck himself. 

Andy Bear: You and I have a fucking discussion to finish. 

You: How about you look in the mirror and have that discussion with yourself, you buttface?

Andy Bear: You had better watch your mouth, baby. You’re just digging yourself into a deeper hole.  

On some level, you knew he was right, but you didn’t care. All of this over a fucking speeding ticket that you’d hidden from him. He’d found it this morning stashed in the glovebox of your car and had hit the roof. 

Andy Bear: Don’t make me come get you.

You: Good luck with that, Big Guy. You don’t even know where I’m at.

Andy Bear: No, I don’t, but I think I have an idea. Either be home in fifteen minutes or I’m getting in the car and coming to get you. And I can assure you that you won’t like it. 

Your husband was bluffing. He had to be. You tell yourself. 

You: I have to wait for an Uber or something, so it’s going to be awhile. I’ll be fine and so will you.  

____

Twenty Minutes Later…

You’re just starting your fourth vodka cranberry when you feel a suspicious presence behind you. “Close out your tab, baby. Now.” A deep voice growls in your ear, making you jump in your seat. 

“I - how did you even -?” You stutter through your shock.

He shrugs before replying, “because I know that Lola’s is your favorite bar and that my wife is a creature of habit. You should have thought about that before taunting your Daddy, little one.” You shiver at the threat in his tone. 

“I’ve been paying cash.” You mumble. “Can I at least finish my drink?”

Instead of responding, he gently pulls you from your seat, leaving your cocktail behind. His large hand then goes to grip the back of your neck and escorts you out. “Too tight, Andy.”

“It is not. Now get your ass in the car.” Andy proceeds to smack your bottom. Hard. Several times. “Consider that a preview. You are in for it when we get back to the house.” Your man growls, making you gulp.

You were pretty sure that you had a Mean Daddy Spanking coming your way. Fuck!

“Andy - honey, I’m sorry. Okay, I swear.” You try to plead with him. And all he does is chuckle. “Daddy,” you whisper. “Um, just how much trouble am I in?” You wanted to prepare yourself. 

“When we get home, you are going to go into the living room and strip. I want every stitch off of your little body. Do you hear me?” Tearing up, you simply nod. “And then you’re going to go upstairs to fetch your hair brush and bring it to me so I blister that cute ass. I’m talking about the wooden one.”

“Noooo…” You whine softly. “Can’t you please just use your hand? I don’t like the brush…”

Your husband chooses to ignore your comment. “And then you’re going to stand in the corner for a timeout. Understand?” 

You find yourself beginning to shake as he pulls into the garage, all of your earlier bravado and sass gone. Trying once more to save yourself, you throw your arms around his neck and pepper his face with kisses. “Why don’t you let me take care of you instead, Daddy?” You purr. “Let me suck you off. Want you to make me choke on your dick. Make me cry.”

Shaking his head, Andy undoes your seatbelt and then leans over to open the passenger door. “You still feel like blowing me after your punishment, then by all means go for it. Now, please do as you’re told, baby. Need you to be my good girl.” He grunts.

Stepping out the car you slowly trudge into the house towards the living room. Your husband is hot on your heels.

He crosses his thick arms over his chest as he watches you begin to remove your clothes. First, you kick off your shoes, before pulling your shirt over your head and then undoing the front clasp of your nude colored bra. And then you turn around to give Andy your back so that you can take off your pants and panties the way your man likes. You bend over without bending your knees, making sure he gets a good long look at your vulnerable ass and pussy.

Once you’re completely bare, you turn to face him. Your hands go to shield your cunt from his gaze, earning you a snarl.

“What have I told you about hiding my pussy from me? Move your hands. Now. You’re really starting to piss me off, baby girl.”  

You whimper, and then do as he tells you. 

“Go. Get. Your brush.” Andy orders, his voice harsher than you were expecting. “And you had better be quick about it, sweetness.”

Eyes watering, you run up the stairs to retrieve the implement from your bathroom. The tears begin to flow as you head back down to the living room. When you make it back to Andy, you see that he’s already taken a seat on the couch. 

“Good girl.” He holds out his hand to you, waiting expectantly for you to give it to him. Once he’s got it, your very angry husband motions for you to lay across his lap. 

When you don’t move, your man rises and yanks you onto his muscular thighs before arranging your body into position. And then he pops your ass with that damned brush, making you wail.

“I see my normally sweet baby is having a hard time listening tonight.” He hisses before popping your ass two more times.

“Tell me why you’re getting spanked.” Andy growls.

By now you’re crying, knowing that your punishment isn’t even close to being over. Daddy always made you tell him why you were being spanked. Always.

“Um, because I got a speeding ticket and hid it from you.”

“Yep. Keep going.”

“And because I left the house and went to a bar when you explicitly told me not to.” You can’t help but sniffle. “And then I was mean and snarky with my Daddy when he told me to come home, so he had to come and get me.” 

God, you had so many regrets.

“Good job.” His tone is both hard and authoritative. “Proud of you for acknowledging your mistakes today.” And then that stupid fucking brush connects with your already hot backside with a sharp crack.

“Ahh!” You shriek when it comes down again. And then you begin to struggle, doing your best to wiggle off of his lap. “Ow, Daddy! Owww!”

Andy throws his right leg over your thighs to hold you in place. “I’m gonna need you to take your spanking like a big girl, baby. You earned this.”

The brush collides against your ass once more with a resounding crack!

“Daddy, I’m sorry! Slap! But you are killing me!” You cry. “Fuck!” 

Crack!

You’re crying so hard now that you can feel the snot dripping from your nose. 

Crack! Crack! Crack!

“Oww! Please, Andy, stop!” You cry as a fresh wave of pain blooms across your poor bottom. “I’m sorry, okay!?”

“Nope.” Your very determined husband snarls. Slap! 

You’re honestly not sure how long your spanking lasts, Andy makes sure to wear your ass out to the point you’re convinced that you would never be able to sit again. When he’s through, he stands up your sobbing form and points to a nearby corner. 

“No talking and no rubbing. I see you do either of them and you’ll get a repeat of what just happened.”

“Yes, Daddy.” You hiccup.

Into the corner you go for a timeout. Andy didn’t make you do it often, only when you had really fucked up.

“Push that gorgeous ass out a little bit. Daddy likes looking at his handiwork.” He orders softly. “Good girl. I see my baby has her listening ears back.” Andy murmurs when you comply. 

Your husband sits there for a while before getting up and leaving the room, only to return after a few minutes. More moments pass, and then you hear him speak. 

“Come here, little one.”

Still sniffling, you turn around and walk towards him. Daddy pats his lap. “Sit, please.” Not wanting to risk further punishment, you do as you’re told. You hiss out in pain when your very sore butt makes contact with the fabric of his pants. 

Andy surprises you when he holds a bottle of ice cold water to your lips. “Drink up for me, sweetheart.” He urges you gently. “Take your time.” He murmurs as you greedily gulp it down, letting the cool liquid soothe your raw throat. 

“All is forgiven.” He presses a soft kiss to your throat. “Now, did you eat before you snuck out to that bar? Tell me the truth.”

After draining the bottle, you pull away and mumble out a quick “no”. Your Daddy sighs before picking you up and carrying your naked body into the kitchen. “Drinking on an empty stomach is never a good idea, young lady. In fact, it’s a very bad idea.” 

He sits you on the counter and proceeds to heat up some leftover meatloaf and mashed potatoes. And then your Big Man stands there and lovingly feeds you every bite. 

END

#cevansbrat0007growing pains series #chris evans imagines #andy barber imagines #chris evans fanfiction #andy barber fanfiction #chris evans smut #andy barber smut #chris evans x you #andy barber x you #chris evans x reader #andy barber x reader #chris evans x black!reader #andy barber x black!reader #chris evans x woc!reader #andy barber x woc!reader #chris evans x poc!reader #andy barber x poc!reader #chris evans x wife!reader #andy barber x wife!reader #chris evans x female!reader #andy barber x female!reader #chris evans x brat!reader #andy barber x brat!reader #chris evans x fem!reader #andy barber x fem!reader #chris evans x yn #andy barber x yn #chris evans x y/n #andy barber x y/n #cevansbrat0007 fics

[wordynerdygurl]

“Please...”

A Six Steamy Sentences Story

Author’s Note:  @lancsnerd created this idea and when I mentioned writing for my favorite MCU bae, she agreed!  Thank you for the vote of confidence! As always, feel free to like, share and check out the Master List in my bio!  Also, the tag list is open so there’s always time to become a Minx!   Pairing:  Loki x Female Reader Summary:  It has Six Steamy, Smutty Sentences, my good people!  The summary would be as long as the work itself! Warnings:  Male servicing Female smut.  Beautiful words, sexy times.

The word was filled with an aching want that ran in electric currents from the arched tips of your toes to the top of your head, stopping just long enough to pool in the space between your belly button and the crest of your mound. You were answered with a moaned return to the task at hand; Loki, raven haired God of Mischief and paramour extraordinaire, had ordered you to receive pleasure provided by him and him alone. Just now his dark locks rose and fell in syncopated rhythm with the long licking strokes of his tongue along your soaked seam, stopping to gently suck at the bundled nerves of your swollen clitoris before plunging lower and deeper. It was a nerve wracking tattoo, the beat of which was enough to drive you to madness, or divine ecstasy, whichever came first. As your body bent nearer to the torment, bowing into the breathy parted lips of your Loki, the wave within you crested, overflowing the banks of your body and leaving you to weakly whisper in the wreckage, “Please…” Kissing over the lush valleys created by your curves, Loki climbed high enough to tweak one of your overly sensitive nipples, renewing the rippling sensations coursing through your over worked figure, his voice deep and dark, “I love it when you beg, pet.”

Minxes:  @just-random-obsessions @brokenthelovely @lots-of-loki @thefallenbibliophilequote @rorybutnotgilmore @sammy-jo1977 @lancsnerd @scrumptious-finicky-illusion @vodka-and-some-sass-deactivated @toomanystoriessolittletime @jenjen8675309 @alexakeyloveloki @wolfsmom1 @iamverity @lokislittlecorner @iamverity @jessiejunebug @tamstrugglestowrite @crystalizedcaramel @that-one-person @caffiend-queen @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore @jamielea81 @mizfit2 @unadulteratedwizardlove @iluvsumbucky @ahintofkiwistrawberry @nonsensicalobsessions @roguewraith​ @procrastinatinglikeabitch​

#lnsixsentence #lancsnerdchallenge #sixsteamysentences #loki smut #hot loki #loki x reader #loki x you #loki x plus size reader #mcu smut #mcu x reader #mcu fanfic

[separatist-apologist]

Are You Ready For It

In the middle of the night, in my dreams, you should see the things we do

Summary: When Elain Archeron's roommate can't interview wealthy business man and school alumni Lucien Vanserra, Elain agrees to step in.

Little does she know what Mr. Vanserra does behind closed doors.

Or what he'd do to her, if she'd only agree to let him.

NOTE: Still a 50 shades of orange rewrite but without any of the problems with consent.

beta'd by the incomparable @the-lonelybarricade

Chapter 2: Every Lover Known In Comparison Is A Failure

Read more: Chapter 1 | AO3 | 15k words

It took two days for Elain’s results from the clinic to come back, which gave her plenty of time to think. Elain struggled to focus in her classes, her mind constantly wandering back to Lucien, utterly naked—practically a bronzed, muscular God with the thick, long cock of one, too—calling her baby, telling her she was a good girl. She knew there would be more. Lucien had explained he’d like to inject a little pain the next time they met just to see how she liked it.

Spanking, he’d said with a roguish smile before promising he’d eat her out afterwards as a reward.

And fuck Elain if she didn’t want to feel his mouth between her legs again. He’d sent her home the next morning after feeding her breakfast and it was all so normal that her only reservations were the acts themselves. She’d never been hit in the bedroom, had never been hurt in the bedroom. She’d been bored to tears, of course, and Elain wondered if maybe she couldn’t find some enjoyment in all of it. Take what she liked, leave what she didn’t.

She trusted Lucien to stop, if nothing else, and to respect her boundaries. 

Elain was in her afternoon class when the e-mail popped up. She knew nothing was going to come up and still she was breathless sending him that screenshot as proof. Lucien had done the same the day before with a little winky emoji and a tongue emoji. Truly, they probably should have done it before she ever put his cock in his mouth but Elain considered it a risk worth taking given how good he tasted and how utterly sexy he was.

Lucien’s response was immediate.

Can I see you tonight?

She almost laughed.

You sound down bad, daddy.

If she was going to be spanked, might as well earn it. He liked a little sass both in and out of the bedroom even if he wanted eventual submission. She just had to figure out how to walk the line between the two. Elain had found some amount of pleasure in pleasing, and she couldn’t pretend she didn’t like being told what to do. She was still shy when it came to sex and men were always hoping they’d get some secret pornstar in the bedroom when really Elain wanted them to tell her what they wanted, and not the other way around. 

Be careful.

She could practically hear the growl in her voice. She pressed her legs together, the lecture happening in front of her all but forgotten.

I can’t tonight. I work and Arina is dealing with something. Tomorrow I’m off…I could see you then?

And Lucien, predictable as ever, sent back:

I’ll send a car. Seven p.m., don’t eat.

That sounded ominous, though she bet it merely meant he wanted to feed her. Elain hoped there would be no deconstructed meals, at least…and maybe a little vodka. Assuring him she was looking forward to it, Elain slid her phone back into her bag and returned to her lecture. 

After, Elain biked directly to the florist to pick up the evening shift. It was quiet at night, giving Elain time to work on arrangement and, when she ran out of projects, to do homework in the quiet. Since Arina had ended things with Jack, their apartment had peace. They’d cleaned the apartment top to bottom in an attempt to remove the smell of him and yesterday, when Elain came home, she’d found a sweet burning candle that didn’t have his unwashed odor battling it for dominance.

In the past, though, getting homework done in the floral shop was essential given Jack was either loudly playing his video games or loudly fucking Arina into boredom. Arina had confessed it had been at least a year, maybe more, since he’d made her finish. She supposed that was what had been so attractive about Eris Vanserra—his willingness to eat a woman out. 

Arina said she didn’t want Eris which was a shame considering how much he obviously wanted her. He’d sent a massive bouquet of flowers Elain had fished out of the trash, if only not to waste something both so pretty and expensive. She understood Arina’s hesitation. To admit she was interested was a betrayal of her feelings for Jack…whatever those were. And it proved him right.

Jack was the other problem Elain couldn’t get over. She returned home late in the evening to find him waiting inside the lobby. He had a key to get into their building though in truth he probably could have just pulled really hard on the door, given how flimsy it was. He was pacing back and forth in a surprisingly nice shirt, for him at least. Still cargo shorts, still floppy, messy brown hair she was certain was unwashed. 

His eyes narrowed when he saw her come in. Choosing to ignore him, Elain went for the stairs, adjusting her backpack.

“This is your fault,” he called after her retreating back. “You got in her head.”

“You messed this up all by yourself,” Elain retorted, irritated by how Jack refused to take even a shred of accountability. Pausing on the third step, Elain turned to face him. He was doing a decent job of swallowing his hatred but she was prepared to run up the steps if that changed. 

“You started that fucking fight–”

“I never hoped you died!” Elain bit back, surprised her feelings were hurt. “And she was right. You should get a job.”

“I have a job, bitch!” he spat. Jack couldn’t go five minutes without reminding her how much he hated her. Elain only rolled her eyes. 

“Jobs pay people. Arina works hard—”

“Shaking her fucking ass,” Jack spat, taking a step towards Elain. “Like a fucking slut. Of course she’s making money with her tits hanging out of her shirt. You could too, if you weren’t such a frigid bitch.”

“Great,” Elain replied. “Good talk.”

She turned her back and glanced at her phone. Lucien had sent her a picture, distracting her the moment she realized it was a picture of his penis rather tastefully shot. Erect and clutched in his big hand, Elain could appreciate the sheer largeness of him. His hand covered him entirely but only half of his penis. 

Something hard collided with Elain’s back, knocking the breath from her body. She slammed to the dingy, smelly carpet before her brain could catch up, still holding her phone. 

“What the—”

That same roughness caught her upside the face and too late, she realized it was Jack. Jacks fist that had punched her in the back and hit her in the face. Jack, dragging her up the steps by her hair and straddling her chest, hands around her throat.

Elain kicked, shoving at his face as she screamed furiously. He cut off her air, squeezing until she choked. Awash in panic, Elain scratched and pulled at him, terrified by the dark, empty expression on his face. He was going to kill her. 

The glass door beneath them wrenched open. “What the fuck?” came a dark, masculine voice. Jack released her as feet thundered up the steps. Elain gasped loudly, choking and crying as she rubbed at her neck. Her vision went black for a moment as she fought to catch her breath. The sound of something wet rattled in her head as a warm hand touched her back.

“You okay?”

“Who the fuck is this?”

She blinked. Eris Vanserra was looking down at her, holding more flowers in one bleeding, bruised hand. Jack was pacing the bottom of the steps like a wild, wounded animal. 

“I’m calling the cops.”

“No,” Elain gasped. Their landlord had very few rules, but a call from the cops always led to an eviction. “No, I’m fine it was…” God how did she even try and rationalize this?

“Who the fuck is this, Elain?”

Brazen. He was so unrepentant. Elain needed to talk to Arina, needed to figure something else out. There were going to have to move.

“Eris Vanserra, I—”

“We’re dating,” she managed, cutting Eris off before he could figure out who Jack was and what Arina had done. “He’s my boyfriend and you need to leave before I change my mind about the police.

“This isn’t over,” Jack warned. “I want to talk to Arina. You tell her to fucking call me back.”

“Arin–dat—this better be fucking over!” Eris snarled after Jack’s retreating back, still crouched over Elain. “What the fuck–”

Elain shoved at his chest. “You should leave, too. What is wrong with you? She said she didn’t want to talk to you.”

Outrage flooded over Eris’s handsome features. “You’re welcome for not letting you die.”

“I would have been fine,” she dismissed, rising shakily to her feet. “He wouldn’t…” but Elain wasn’t so sure Jack wouldn’t have killed her in his rage. 

“Call the police,” Eris ordered. He wasn’t her boyfriend and he wasn’t her boss. 

“Mind your own business, Eris.”

Amber eyes flashed at her pure defiance, and too late, she wondered if he wasn’t just like his brother. Elain grabbed her phone and her backpack and stomped up the steps, tears pricking at the back of her eyes. It felt like too much. Elain only hesitated when she realized why Jack must have been waiting in the lobby instead of upstairs. Had Arina picked up a shift? Was he planning to intercept her?

“That’s Arina’s ex,” she said, ignoring the way her throat burned. “I think he’s waiting for her.”

Fury flooded over Eris’s features. “I’ll–”

“If he finds out she slept with you, it’ll only make things worse for her,” Elain told him. A reminder that his rage would fall unfairly on Arina’s already tired shoulders. Clearly warring his own need to revenge against his desire not to find Arina being strangled in an apartment lobby, Eris nodded tightly. 

“Can you check on her at work? Maybe…maybe drive her home tonight? She doesn’t have a car. Tell her I asked but don’t tell her why.”

Eris’s eyes slid down her body. “She’ll know,” he warned, jerking his head towards her neck. “Everyone is going to know. You should let me drive you to the emergency room.” Elain shook her head, already tapping a message out to Lucien.

Change of plans. Let's meet next week.

“I’m fine,” she lied, though a little food and some trashy television could fix this. “You’ll check on Arina?”

Eris nodded tightly, clearly warring between his concern for the girl he liked and his concern for Elain. She forced herself to smile, hoping the bruising wasn’t too bad. Elain swallowed and trudged back to her apartment, dropping her backpack by the door. Just as she’d thought, Arina was gone with an apology note on the counter regarding their canceled plans. It was for the best—what if Jack had done that to Arina? 

Elain changed from her jeans into sleep shorts and a tank before she dared to go into the bathroom and survey the damage. Her eyes were bright and her neck red and swollen. Little fingerprint bruises bloomed against her skin. She’d always marked up easily. Like a peach, her dad had joked. It wasn’t funny now. Scarves would hide the worst of it but there would be no Lucien until they faded.

It should have been fine. Elain settled on the couch, a bag of chips between her legs, when a pounding on the door dragged her away from Love Island. 

Fucking nosy, busybody Eris, she grumbled. Had he drove by, ensured Arina was fine for the moment, and circled back to annoy her? 

“You’re so…” Elain wrenched open the door, intending to tell Eris he was stupid, only to find his brother on the other end. Lucien’s eyes immediately zeroed in on her neck. He’d tattled?

Lucien didn’t wait for an invitation to step inside, still dressed from work. Too late, the door shut behind him, Elain wondered if Lucien hadn’t come straight from work. He ran a hand through his hair, mouth opening and shutting like a fish.

“I’m fine,” she said with exasperation. Had this man ever done friends with benefits? Elain hadn’t, but she was pretty sure running to her rescue fell outside his required expectations.

“You called,” he finally said, his voice a rough rasp. “I heard…”

She’d been staring at his dick, distracted by his naked body when Jack had hit her. In her confusion, her hand must have slipped. “I didn’t mean to,” she said quickly. Lucien’s hand covered his mouth for a moment, eyes wide. Blinking, he came towards her, running his fingers over her face.

“He hit you.”

Elain nodded, biting her bottom lip. 

“What did I tell you about people touching what’s mine?”

Her stomach splattered at her feet. Was he serious right now? A furious tear slid down her cheek. “You’re going to punish me–”

“No,” he interrupted quickly, guiding her back to the couch. “Not you. Never you. You’re my good girl, keeping yourself safe.”

And fuck if that didn’t ease the tension building in her chest. She let him pull her into his lap, bracketing her body with his strong thighs. Elain buried her face into his bicep, forehead pressed into the couch. She was shaking, unsure when that had even started. Lucien stroked her hair with gentle fingers.

“You were right to call me,” he murmured. “It’s my job to keep you safe…to care for you. Remember?”

No one had ever taken care of Elain. Some part of her wasn’t sure she even knew how to be cared for. 

“You can’t do anything,” she whispered. Lucien’s body went stiff  beneath her and she knew he didn’t like being told what he could and could not do. She twisted to look at him, drinking in his fury and his concern. “He’ll hurt Arina, you’ll just make things worse. Please,” she added, Lucien didn’t yield, didn’t budge an inch.

“So next time am I supposed to just listen to him kill you and hope Eris gets there in time?” She’d never heard him sound so furious, so cold. 

“No, I…I can be more careful—”

“You aren’t responsible for preventing your own murder, baby,” Lucien murmured. “What are you thinking?”

“We should probably move,” she whispered miserably, well aware they could barely afford it. She couldn’t tell him that, though. What did a man like Lucien, who lived in a sprawling two story penthouse in the sky, understand about the realities of housing. Still, it clearly pacified him. He rubbed his thumbs over her cheeks.

“That’s a good plan.”

She didn’t know how they’d make that work. Lucien didn’t need to know everything. He was still half a stranger to her, and a bossy one at that. 

“You should let me buy you a car,” he murmured. Elain jerked.

“No,” she breathed. “No, I have a—”

“A bike,” he agreed. “Yes, I know. It could just be a loan while we’re…together…” he said, wincing at the word together. “You don’t have to agree to keep it forever though I do consider it a gift.”

“A gift is a necklace,” Elain replied, her heart pounding in her chest. “Not a car.”

“If you want a necklace, I can–”

“No, Lucien, you’re not understanding. I’m not asking you for jewelry. I was…a car is too much.”

“It would make me feel better, to give this to you,” Lucien replied softly, pressing his mouth against her cheek. “To take care of you.”

“This wasn’t in the contract,” she whispered. Lucien smiled.

“I said I wanted to take care of my good girl. What did you think that meant?”

“Sex,” she replied automatically. Lucien only shook his head, silently scolding her for not realizing the wealthy deviant also wanted to be her sugar daddy. Elain didn’t know how to process that in the wake of everything else. 

“Am I allowed to tell you no?”

“No,” he replied automatically. “But you can come with me and pick out what you like.”

Elain was going to murder him. “So…this is what gets you off?”

Lucien shrugged. “Did you think it was all pain, no pleasure?”

“I guess I don’t see how spending thousands of dollars is pleasurable.”

Lucien kissed the tip of her nose. “What incentive does my little brat have to behave if I’m not taking good care of her?”

“Brats can be spoiled–”

“Brats should be spoiled,” he insisted. “And daddy’s good girl gets rewarded for taking a gift without being difficult about it.”

“Yeah, yeah,” she grumbled, reclining back against his chest. “It sounds like daddy’s good girl just goes along with whatever unhinged idea daddy had and doesn’t complain.”

“Now you’re getting it,” Lucien praised, kissing the side of her neck. “And if you and Arina need a place to lay low for a while, you can always borrow my apartment.”

“Let’s just…one thing at a time, okay?”

Lucien pressed his chin against her head. “Fine. What are you watching?”

“Love Island,” she admitted with only a small amount of shame. Graysen had loathed Elain’s guilty pleasures and she expected Lucien to demand she change the channel, too.

“Turn it on,” he murmured. “And explain to me what’s happening.”

Elain suppressed the warmth blooming through her in favor of inhaling the strong scent of him. 

And began explaining her show.

LUCIEN:

“Close the door,” Lucien told Beth when his brother came in the next day. He’d cleared his schedule, in part because he was taking Elain to a dealership to pick out a car. That was at least fun.

He could torment her a little, work her up and do the one thing Lucien had always enjoyed, which was spoiling the women he fucked. He had no intention of ever taking that car back. What would he do with it? 

Eris held a heavy envelope in his hand, tossing it to Lucien’s desk as he sat in one of the chairs.

“Jack Rogden,” Eris said without preamble. “Two semesters at the community college, a solid D average. He’s got an online presence if you ever want to read true drivel.” Eris shifted uncomfortably in his chair. “They’ve been dating for almost four years.”

Better Eris than Lucien. “Anything usable?”

“No. He doesn’t work, his parents are just like him…he doesn’t have enough followers he’d be embarrassed if anyone found out…and honestly his followers seem the type that might praise him for putting a woman in her place.”

Lucien’s gut tightened. “You know…I have a decent relationship with Rhys—”

“No. No mafia, for fucks sake,” Eris snapped. “Lord knows what he’d find sniffing around a college campus. I don’t want the media involved at all. We handle this between us.”

“How?” Lucien reclined back in his chair, thinking of Elain’s perfect neck covered in ugly purple bruises. Just the memory filled Lucien with a blinding rage. Rubbing his hands over his eyes,

Lucien waited for Eris to come up with a solution.

“We needed to get them out of that shithole.”

“Elain said—”

“Mm, yes, tell me more about what the girl making eleven dollars an hour told you about her living situation,” Eris sneered, reminding Lucien that he was too divorced from the realities of everyday life. He shifted uncomfortably. He barely knew this woman. A car was one thing…an apartment was something else.

“I’ll put the girls up for now,” Eris said decisively. “Maybe condemn that entire place. I know that fire escape isn’t up to code.”

“Put them up where?”

Eris considered for a moment. “It depends on what Arina will let me get away with. The estate, if she’s willing. No one is out there, it’s a good place to lay low. I’ve got a place I never use downtown, that’s pretty close to campus. Or a fucking hotel if she’s going to be difficult. They can have the penthouse at the Starlight.”

“Just start with the Starlight.” He knew full well they’d balk at anything more. “I’ll talk to Elain.”

Eris grimaced. “Maybe you should talk to Arina, too.”

“You do that. Someone needs to impress upon her how serious this is and frankly, I don’t think Elain is doing that at all. You saw what happened. You tell her she’s going if you have to drag her there yourself. And then fucking make good on it.”

And that was that. Eris seemed a little more settled, if nothing else. Lucien, too, felt better by the time Elain arrived, pretty as a picture in a soft plum coat dress and navy tights. Her little brown booties were scuffed and he wondered how much of her clothing was second hand and how much was just well-loved. Jess had never worn anything so often she might damage it and the comparison between the two was stark.

Elain plopped into the chair on the opposite end of his desk, pulling her crossbody over her head and tossing it to the chair beside her.

“Mr. Vanserra.”

His whole body went tight all over again. “Say it again. See what happens.”

“You keep teasing me about sex and yet…” she gestured around her, looking about with exaggeration. “Here I am. Unfucked.”

“Needy,” he replied, eyes sliding to his watch. “We got an appointment first.”

“For this car,” Elain all but sneered. “Because you get off–”

“Spoiling my girl,” Lucien interrupted smoothly. “Exactly. So you’ll go and pick out something expensive while my dick stays rock hard in my pants. And when he get home, I’ll put you on your hands and knees and fuck the brattiness right out of you.”

And fuck Lucien, but Elain shivered at his words. “Okay,” she murmured, a reminder that all she really needed was a firm hand. He was semi-hard already just at the thought. Taking a calming breath, Lucien stood.

“The sooner we go, the sooner you’re fucked.”

“And what will it entail?”

“Depends on how much you intend to test me while we’re out. I’ll be counting how many spanks you’ve earned in my head all day.”

Elain’s eyes tightened at the side. “No more than ten…just to start.”

Fair enough. Reasonable, even. And Lucien was well-practiced enough to make ten spanks count. He nodded. “Deal.”

Ever so shyly, Elain came towards him, phone in hand. “I feel like you want to buy me something new—”

“I do,” he agreed, curious at the picture on her screen.

“They don’t make them anymore,” she said and of course Elain, with flower hair pins pulling curls off her face, and her lilac colored nails, wanted a VW Beetle. He looked at the picture she’d pulled up, of the lot the yellow car stood on with more than forty thousand miles to its name. When he’d given Jess a car, she’d spent half a million dollars on a flashy, two-door sports car Lucien was sure she still had. And Elain wanted to buy a car for less than twenty thousand dollars. Where had he found her, he marveled, pulling the phone from her hand, just to see where the car sat. Lucien was willing to bet he could haggle. It felt so odd. Maybe she didn’t understand what was happening. The whole point was to spend his money, to be absurd about it.

“You want this?” he asked, disbelief lacing every world.

Elain tucked a curl behind her ear. “I know it’s a lot. I ah…there are other, but this is the right color–”

She reached for her phone to show him her back-ups but Lucien held it out of reach, his outrage etched over his face. “A lot? Baby, this is nothing. If you want it, you can have it. You could have five of them.”

“Just one is fine,” Elain told him, eyes sliding to her feet. “And it’s only a loan.”

He snorted. “Not at this price. If you want this, you have to keep it. What am I going to do with it when we’re done?”

She shrugged. “What about the other girl—”

“They never once assumed they wouldn’t be keeping the things I gave them,” Lucien replied smoothly, brushing a finger over her face. No bruise, at least that he could see, and the high neck of her dress hid the fingerprints he knew that were lurking just beneath. 

Elain sighed softly. “I just wanted no strings attached sex, Lucien.”

“Mmm,” he agreed, putting a hand on her back without admitting that he’d purchased her a lot of very expensive, very sexy lingerie. Truly, that was a gift for himself given he wanted to drip candle wax all over her tits while she wore it. Still, Elain needed to get used to this aspect of things because in every other relationship he’d had, it was merely a given. He didn’t want to have to fight her over something so trivial.

They left for the dealership without squabble. Elain kept crossing and uncrossing her legs while Lucien spoke, deferring to him through thick, dark lashes. Lucien couldn’t help himself as he put a hand on her thigh, rubbing lazy circles over the thin fabric of her tights. He paid in cash and Elain drove it off the lot. It was in his name for the moment—he’d pay the taxes on it before selling it to her for ten dollars, sparing Elain a gift tax penalty he knew she couldn’t afford. 

Trotting after him back into his place, Elain was bouncy and filled with appreciative words. She was too easy to impress. A little pussy eating, a little gift giving and she was practically a purring kitten at his feet. She wanted to please him now. That suited Lucien just fine because he wanted to eat pussy and he wanted her to please him. 

“Are you happy?” he asked, cupping her face after leading her to the bedroom. Elain’s cheeks were flushed, eyes bright.

“Yes,” she admitted. 

“Good. Come here,” he added, dragging her to the bed and setting her in his lap. “We need to discuss one more thing.”

She did as she was told without an ounce of wariness. This was working. He liked it too much. “I want you to move out of your apartment.”

The fire in her eyes was immediately extinguished. Planting her hands against his chest, Elain shoved. Lucien held her tight.

“You and Arina. Eris has a place at the Starlight. It’s just temporary while you two find somewhere else. Somewhere safe,” he added. 

“Lucien,” she protested but this was too reasonable and to be frank, Elain was well under the budget he mentally laid out for her.

“It’s already paid for,” he told her. “Whether someone sleeps there or not. You’ve got the car, you can drive to work and school and Arina can borrow it too. I just want to know you’re safe,” he added, clasping his hand softly around her neck. 

Elain swallowed hard. “We’ll be okay—”

“Baby,” he interrupted, nuzzling his nose against her own. “He hurt you. He could have killed you if Eris wasn’t there. The Starlight has a doorman and a reception desk…and cameras. No one but Eris and I have to know you’re there. Your last year of school shouldn’t be so stressful.”

Let me do what I promised you I would, he added silently. 

“It’s not forever?” she asked, eyes big and trusting. Lucien kissed the corner of her mouth.

“Only temporary. When you find somewhere you two like, you can leave and no one will stop you.”

A half truth. Lucien wouldn’t stop Elain but he suspected his brother wouldn’t be satisfied until Arina was in his bed and draped in the Vanserra last name. 

“Okay,” she agreed.

“Good girl,” he praised.

“Was I good while we were out?” she asked him hopefully. Lucien didn’t have the heart to give her all ten, though he had made a case for it in his mind.

“Why were you crossing your legs so much?” he murmured. “Were you trying to distract me?”

“No,” she breathed, eyes mischievous. 

“I think you’re lying,” he replied, all the blood in his body flooding south. “Take off your dress, let's see what’s underneath.”

Elain’s eyes went wide, her fingers fiddling in her lap. “I can’t…the zipper is in the back.”

Lucien reached for the little white piece of metal and pulled it down, revealing a pretty, hot pink bra…and nothing else. God, he could have kissed her. “Liar,” he breathed against the back of her neck, unclasping her bra to rid her of every stitch of clothing. “Where are your panties, Elain?”

“I forgot them,” she said, as if she hadn’t put tights on. Lucien was achingly tight and unbearably hard. She squirmed against his erection.

Lucien slid his hands between her legs, delighted to see she was wet. “More lies, baby girl. What did I say about lying?” Elain said nothing at all, not as he twisted her in his lap until her ass was in the air, her face buried against the pillow.

“I’m sorry,” she said, not sounding terribly sorry at all. Lucien rubbed the tight, rounded flesh with his palm, delighted by how his hand covered the whole of her ass cheek.

“Five spanks. Isn’t that right?”

She whimpered and Lucien trusted her to use the safe word if she needed to while he prayed she didn’t. “What happened to my good girl, baby?”

Elain looked over her shoulder at him. “I want to be. I thought you’d like it if I didn’t wear them.”

“I don’t like being teased,” he lied, still kneading her flesh. “All I could think about was that wet pussy of yours. Do you know how hard I was all day?”

“I’m sorry, daddy.”

Fuck. Lucien swallowed a groan, bringing his hand down for that first slap. He didn’t hit her as hard as he wanted to, promising he’d ease her into it. Elain’s eyes went wide, tears springing to those big, doe eyes. “Count for me, baby.”

“One,” she whispered.

Lucien throbbed in his pants. Four more and he’d have his cock in her cunt, fucking away those bright tears. He slapped again, hitting the opposite cheek to give her a second to breathe. Elain gasped louder, which might have earned her an extra had they not already negotiated the first five. A tear slipped down her cheek.

“Two.”

Lucien spanked again, and again, and again, and Elain counted each in turn. Her ass was red from his hand and warm to the touch. He was certain she’d have broken had he done many more and was grateful they’d discussed it ahead of time. Lowering his mouth, he kissed each side of her ass while she twisted to watch.

“Are you going to be my good girl now? No more brattiness?”

Elain gulped, nodding her head.

“Come here,” he said, ignoring that her pussy had been on his thigh the entire time. Elain scrambled, letting him pull her back into his lap. “Undress me.”

“Yes, daddy,” she breathed, unknotting his tie with nimble fingers. Lucien didn’t move though some part of him wanted to instinctually. Elain had it off him, followed by his vest and then his shirt, baring his skin to the cool air.

“Pants, too,” he told her, laying backwards so she could slide down his body. Elain smiled ever so slightly, that spark of mischief back, despite the redness of her eyes. She had him naked quicker than he’d imagined, her mouth brushing against his cock without ever touching.

“What days are you off next week?”

“Wednesday and Friday.”

“Do you have class?”

“Not on Friday.”

Fuck, yes. “I want you to come to my office that day.”

“Why?”

His eyes snapped to her face and Elain immediately lowered her gaze.

“Sorry, daddy. I’ll come.”

“Good girl.” Fuck, Lucien wanted to hear her say that wrapped around his cock. Elain slid back on her haunches, staring down at his body with bright eyes. “How much more can you take?” Elain shivered, her pert breasts jiggling ever so slightly.

“Whatever you tell me to.”

God, he was losing his mind. 

“Ride me,” he ordered, impressed by how in control he sounded. Elain immediately straddled his hips, rocking her pussy against his achingly hard cock. Lucien reached for her hips, prolonging it for a moment. 

“It won’t always be like this,” he whispered. “I want to tie you up.”

“Yeah?” she breathed, slotting him carefully into her body. Lucien wasn’t going to let her sink onto him slowly. He still craved that little bite of pain, wanted to see it on her face. He yanked her onto him, well aware his cock was both thick and long. She gasped, her face contorting for a moment and despite his promise he wanted pain, Lucien stilled for a moment while Elain adjusted. 

“Not used to a big cock?” he breathed because fuck she was so tight he could barely see straight.

“No,” she agreed, rolling her hips experimentally. Lucien groaned loudly, suddenly feeling very submissive beneath her touch. He didn’t like it—it was far too vulnerable, too intimate for what they were. Clamping his thighs around her, Lucien had Elain on her back before she could go any further. 

Another soft gasp escaped her lips, punctuated by a moan when he thrust into her. He felt right again, felt in control. Grabbing her knees and spreading her legs open wide, Lucien began sliding himself in and out of her impossibly tight, almost sloppy with wet pussy. He wanted to watch her take him, wanted to see the puckering skin that protested when he pulled himself out to the tip, only to slam himself back inside.

“Does my pretty girl like daddy’s cock?” he breathed, teetering on the edge of his sanity. Lucien couldn’t remember having ever felt a pussy this good, though in his defense, it had been a while since he’d last gotten laid. 

Elain whined, head thrown back, eyes closed. 

“Open your eyes,” he ordered. “You take what daddy gives you and you’ll watch.”

She nodded, her eyes fogged with the same heavy lust coiling in his stomach. He could barely think straight, could not have told her his name if she’d asked it. Elain’s desire was tacky against the skin of his cock, pulling with each new slide. 

“Can you come like this? Don’t lie.

“No,” she breathed. He ought to have guessed. Letting her hook her heel against his naked shoulder, Lucien began rubbing her clit with his thumb, using the slickness of her body to lubricate the touch. Her whole demeanor changed, grinding and whining like the greedy, needy thing he remembered from before. He liked the sight of her beneath him, flushed and undone, legs spread obscenely wide as she panted and begged.

“Do you need more?” he grunted, clenching his ass to keep himself from coming prematurally. 

“Yes.”

“Beg.”

Elain looked at him for a moment, defiance flashing in her eyes. He knew what she was thinking. He was in her body and in every way that mattered, Elain held all the power. She could simply stop him and ask him to leave and he’d have no choice in the matter. Still, Lucien asked because he wanted to hear her beg him to come. 

“Daddy, please,” Elain whined, arching her hips invitingly. She’d inadvertently pushed him deeper, changing the angle so his cock head was touching something soft and spongy. The noise that ripped from Lucien was barely human. Each new slide was better than the last, heightening his already hot pleasure. “Please let me come.”Lucien had forgotten their game in that moment, at least a little. Pumping wildly, the best he could do was keep his thumb rubbing, faster now until Elain screamed, tightening and convulsing around him. She was wetter, slicker and impossibly soft. The feel of her was maddening, would drive him insane. He already wanted to fuck her again and Lucien hadn’t even come.

He was just behind, the sound of their slick skin slapping loudly. He wasn’t embarrassed by the noise that escaped him, though it was new. He was usually much quieter. Something about her pussy specifically made Lucien forget himself, at least a little. Made him feel feral, a little wild. 

It took him a moment to come back down.

“Vodka,” Elain breathed, reaching for his shoulders. “And a little mercy, while you’re at it.”

Lucien nodded. She didn’t understand the game entirely. It was over, at least for the moment. He fully intended to offer her some sweetness and care after the fucking he’d just given her. Careful not to crush her, Lucien held her against his body, stroking her hair and kissing the side of her jaw.

“That was good,” he panted, his cock still twitching in her body. She nodded, exhaling a breath. He wasn’t ready for her to leave—not yet. He wanted to have her again…and maybe again, in the morning.

Spending the night was a huge rule violation. He���d even put it in his contract. And still, he thought she’d already done it once when they were testing things between them…why not again? She understood what this was.

“Hungry?” he asked, looking down at her sated, sweet face.

“Starving.”

ELAIN:

“Vassa’s wedding is this weekend,” Arina reminded Elain, tossing a pink wrapped package into her lap. “You’re still going, right?”

“Yeah,” Elain agreed, tugging at the gold ribbon with dread in her stomach. “Are you?”

They were in the middle of packing for the Starlight. Elain wondered what Eris Vanserra had said to her stubborn friend to convince her to leave. Arina’s eyes slid to Elain’s throat, the bruises fading and perhaps Eris hadn’t had to say much at all. She knew Arina was carrying around too much unfair guilt over Jack’s actions. Elain didn’t blame Arina for what happened. 

“Yes. I don’t want to go alone, though.”

Pulling off the top of the lid, Elain groaned.

“What is it?”

It was a rose gold macbook. Brand new and unasked for. Lucien, it seemed, had decided he’d go around her and merely gift her the things he wanted her to have. Elain had stashed all the lacy underthings he’d bought, ignoring the obscene price tags as she snipped them off. It was twice her rent over six little scraps of cloth and Lucien had merely sent it over without a care in the world.

Arina smiled when she saw it. “He’s got it back, huh?”

“It’s his fetish,” Elain tried to explain. Arina had already seen the car parked in the back lot because Elain had given her the spare set of keys so she wouldn’t have to walk to work anymore. 

“Sign me up,” Arina joked, joining Elain on the couch.

“Is that not what the Senator is trying to do?” Elain replied, glancing sidelong at her friend. Arina choked on the air she breathed. 

“No.”

Elain knew better than to push, but Eris hadn’t offered up the penthouse at the nicest hotel in the city because he suddenly cared about the girl his brother was fucking. He’d done it for Arina, a girl he’d had a one night stand with. Perhaps Eris was trying to wrangle more from Arina than Lucien wanted from Elain.

Clearing her throat, Arina continued. “What are you doing tomorrow?”

Elain looked back down at the laptop. “Seeing Lucien.” 

Some rational part of her told her not to go. Send back the gifts, end this game before it went too far. Before she started to like what was happening. Elain could still feel his cock bruising her insides in the most delicious way, could still feel his mouth against her body. She wanted to feel all of it instead of the disjointed way he’d been fucking her and in order to get it, at least once, she’d go see whatever utter nonsense he had planned for her. 

Arina leveled a look that told Elain she only barely approved of what was happening between them. “But you’ll be ready for Vassa’s wedding?”

Elain swallowed her annoyance. “I’m not spending the night. Just seeing him for a few hours during the day. I will be very ready for Vassa’s wedding.”

“Good. I was supposed to go with Jack–”

“Ugh.”

“And I can’t stand to go alone when you know everyone else will have their husbands and boyfriends.”

“Invite Eris–

“No.”

And that was that. 

Walking back into Lucien’s office was exactly the same as before. The only difference, she supposed, was when her heeled feet hit the lobby on the ground floor, she’d texted him to tell him she was coming up…and she was wearing the pink silk he’d sent over in a blue ribboned box. His receptionist had just as bad of an attitude and when Elain asked to see Mr. Vanserra, she asked, “More questions?” with a sneer that said she knew exactly why Elain was there. Elain didn’t respond to that, merely taking her spot on that sunken couch.

And Lucien sure took his time, dragging it out for fifteen minutes. Elain wasn’t playing this game with him. She still needed to get her nails done for tomorrow. She stood, earning a triumphant look from the blonde.

“Tell Lucien—”

“Tell him yourself,” came Lucien’s bossy, deep voice. “Sorry to keep you waiting, Ms. Archeron. Let's discuss that scholarship.”

Asshole, she thought, giving him the once over in his well-fitted suit. Nothing seemed out of place. He was the consummate professional in that moment, right until he closed his door behind him, locking it quietly. “Look at you,” he murmured and she knew what he wanted was to slip right into their game. 

“You made me wait,” Elain told him, crossing her arms over her chest. Lucien smiled, clearly pleased with the dynamic. He reached for her face, caressing her cheek.

“I’m so sorry baby. Let me make it up to you.”

“How?”

Lucien dropped his hand, walking for his desk to sit. “I am trapped in meeting hell today. Come make it better for me.”

He was undoing his pants, sliding the belt from the loops and wrapping it around his broad hand. Elain’s mouth dried, watching with fascination until he slipped it into a drawery just beside him. She could see the motions of him undoing his pants and assumed he must be hard in some capacity. He groaned softly when he was finished, his trousers around his ankles.

“Come here,” he whispered. She did, practically tripping in her excitement. His cock was rigid, standing proudly at attention. Waiting. “Sit on me, baby. Keep me comfortable.”

“You…” she didn’t understand.

Lucien reached for her waist, drawing her between his lightly haired, muscular thighs. “Warm my cock for the next hour.”

“Won’t someone see?”

Lucien was lifting her black dress up over her hips, fingers rubbing the fabric of her underwear. He wasn’t listening to her at all. “Did I buy these?”

“Yes,” she whispered when he pushed the fabric to the side so he could explore her pussy. 

“They’re pretty,” he said, pulling her closer until her bare thighs were rubbing against his erection. “Are you going to warm daddy's cock? Or am I going to bend you over my desk and spank you?”

“I’ll warm it,” she whispered, a thrill rising through her. Lucien groaned softly, turning her to palm her ass cheek. 

“Good girl,” he murmured, lowering her against him. She didn’t know the rules of the game, didn’t know exactly what he meant. He was teasing, letting her sink against him slowly, readjusting to his thick length. 

“That’s it, baby. You take daddy’s cock so well,” he praised, sweeping her hair to the side to press a kiss to her neck. “When we’re done, you’ll suck it, too.”

“Yes, daddy,” she agreed, squirming when he didn’t start thrusting. 

“Don’t move,” he warned her, one hand holding her hip. He had her legs spread obscenely across his lap, her back pressed against his chest. Elain was going to die. Inhaling a breath, Elain thought if he didn’t move maybe this would be bearable. Of course Lucien, a man who got off on pain, immediately surged forward, changing the angle of his cock and driving himself deeper into her. She whimpered loudly, earning a soft slap against her spread open pussy.

“Don’t do that again,” Lucien warned her seriously. It was on the tip of her tongue, to tell him this game was a mistake given he was doing a job. She nearly told him dragging her to his office so he could torture her while he took work calls was a recipe for disaster.

But Lucien, perhaps sensing the direction of her thoughts, merely using that same slapping hand to rub soft circles over her clit, silencing her protests.

“What did I tell you about good girls, Elain?” he asked, his voice hot against her ear. “What does my good girl get?”

“Her pussy eaten.”

She felt his lips smile against the side of her neck. “That’s right. Now sit still and keep my cock comfortable.”

His ringing phone made her jump, dragging his cock with her. Lucien groaned loudly, fingers digging in her hip. “I mean it,” he rasped, slapping her wet pussy a second time. She exhaled a gasp, the sting mingling with the heady pleasure of being filled. “If I have to take you off me I’m going to gag you with my cock.”

“Yes, daddy. I’ll be good.”

Anything to feel his face between her legs. Lucien ate pussy like a rabid animal and there was something absurdly erotic about the though of him spreading her over his desk, knees over his shoulders, while he took his time. Lucien answered his call, his voice clear. Easy. She didn’t hear an actual word he said, choosing instead to turn her head and look towards his tinted windows. No one could see them, though she could see with perfect clarity. People, unaware of what their boss was currently up to, milled about their desks and the common space. Elain picked a rather unremarkable man, tracking him in an effort to keep herself from thinking about how Lucien’s cock was twitching in her body.

He wasn’t immune to what was happening, though his voice sure made it seem like he was. While Lucien moved about, pulling open a spreadsheet on his computer and reclining as he listened, she could feel the rough pound of his heart beating against her own slick cunt. He kept brushing his lips behind her ear, letting her feel his ragged breathing before some comment from the tinny voices coming through his speaker dragged him back to reality.

How Lucien managed to multitask through this moment was beyond Elain. All she wanted was to roll her hips, to feel him thrust into her until there was nothing but the wet slap of skin punctuating the air. She wanted that man, the one she was still half watching, to hear her desperate moans. 

Time was utterly meaningless. One hour dragged into another until Elain was practically sobbing from the effort it took to hold him. Her body was fluttering, her arousal so hot she thought if he put his hand back between her legs she could have come with a feather soft touch. Lucien was practically trembling beneath her, his thighs all but shaking as he tried to wrap up the chattering men going on about personal things neither of them cared about. 

And then it was all over and Lucien was shoving his things off his desk just like she imagined. 

“Not a fucking word comes out of those lips,” he growled, hauling her off him with a ragged, soft grunt. “Do you hear me? Not one sound.”

“Yes, daddy,” Elain agreed, legs hooked over his broad shoulders.

“My good girl,” Lucien praised, sliding his fingers beneath the band of her underwear. She lifted her hips so he could shimmy them off her, watching as he stuffed them in his pocket. “I’m going to wrap these around my cock tonight and come all over them.”

She pressed her fingertips to her lips to keep him from hearing the appreciative moan threatening to rip from her throat. It was just a fantasy, his colleagues overhearing. One that was dangerously close to becoming reality if she wasn’t careful.

“You have the prettiest pussy, baby,” he whispered, his breath curling against her desperate, aching skin. “I could drown in it.”

It was a different sort of hell, laying against the cool wood, her body half draped over him, while Lucien studied her like she was a painting. She wanted to scream. Who cared if her body was pretty if it wasn’t covered in come?

If he heard the slant of her thoughts, he didn’t say. All she knew was one moment he was gazing down at her, feral with need and next he had her clit between his lips and was sucking. She bucked upwards, release building just as quickly as she knew it would. Lucien pressed a hand over her stomach, shoving her back to the desk and holding her still. There was no polite, slow build—though Lucien had never been polite with his mouth to begin with. He merely feasted, betraying his own fantasies while they’d sat in that meeting.

If anyone heard a sound coming from his office, it was their bosses sloppy eating. Lucien couldn’t help himself it seemed though he demanded it of her. She had a hand pressed over her mouth as her orgasm ripped through her, unable to grind into his face, unable to make noise, unable to do anything but pant wildly while he continued to lick, unconcerned if she was finished or not.

It was clear Lucien wasn’t done, and if he wasn’t done, she wasn’t either. “Please,” she begged, her pleasure becoming sharper, more sensitive. “Daddy—”

“You’ll take what daddy gives you,” Lucien told her, his voice more growl than anything. “Lay back, baby.”

She did, panting against the palm of her hand still pressed to her lips. Lucien was rabid, his tongue sliding over her, licking the climax dripping over her thighs until he’d cleaned her out. Elain, so used to having to beg and cajole men to go down on her, didn’t know what to make of Lucien. He was clearly a man who liked eating pussy. 

Lucien concentrated all his effort back on her clit, sliding over and over the way he typically did with his cock. With immaculate, precise rhythm, Lucien drew another shaking orgasm out of her body within minutes of the first. 

“Please,” Elain begged, shaking her head back and forth. She was certain she couldn’t take another.

“Came too fast,” was his rasping reply. Elain had to swallow her choking scream when Lucien demanded yet a third with his demanding, hungry lips. Only then, her body trembling, tears sliding down her cheeks, did Lucien relent. He reached for her, fisting her hair in her hand to pull her up for a messy, rough kiss. 

“Tell daddy thank you,” Lucien whispered before nipping the skin beneath her jaw. Elain immediately sank to her knees, realizing only in retrospect he meant for her to say the words rather than to sink between his still seated thighs.

“Thank you, daddy,” she whispered against the sticky skin of his cock. Lucien moaned softly, gathering up her hair in his hands.

“Take all of it, baby girl,” he all but pleaded. “I want to feel your nose against my stomach.”

Eyeing the largeness of him, Elain wasn't sure that was possible though she wanted to try. Licking the length of him just for a taste, she shuddered at the muskiness of his skin mingled against her own arousal hit the back of her throat. Lucien didn’t say a word, eyes dark as he watched. 

She swallowed him down, letting him use the hand on the back of her neck to push as far as she was willing to go. She gagged softly, mindful that anyone outside the door would hear if she was any louder. 

“That’s it,” he whispered. “Such a good girl, sucking daddy's cock.”

He was conditioning her to find pleasure in his words, to want to please him. She knew it and still on her next pass down, Elain widened her jaw and tried to take a little more, and again, and again, until she’d done exactly as he asked. Elain hated it and Lucien very obviously loved it. He held her there until she slapped at his thigh, her throat aching, her lungs burning. When she came back up she gasped for air.

“Vodka,” she managed, gripping the base of his cock with her hand. Immediately it was over. Lucien pulled to her feet, ignoring the throbbing erection she still held in one hand, to bury his face between her tits.

“Sorry,” he panted. “Fuck, Elain, that was so good, I–”

“It’s fine, it’s fine,” she chanted. “It was just too much all at once.”

“Do you want to stop?” he asked her, no hint of reproach in his words. She could say yes and she thought he’d shove himself back in his pants and walk her back to the lobby. 

“No,” she admitted. “I just… I need to work into being held that long.”

He nodded. “Tell me what you want.”

“I want to finish,” she said, bracing herself against his thighs as she sank back to her knees. “I want to taste you, daddy.”

Lucien moaned softly, head against the back of his chair. “Fuck me, baby girl. Suck daddy’s cock, then.”

She was back to sucking him just like before, his hand on her neck, still gently pushing but stopping when he heard her gag. With room to breathe, Elain could focus on the hollow of her cheeks and the slide of her tongue, working to adjust to this new, persistent intrusion. Lucien’s hips rocked back and forth and she wondered, if she told him she wanted to see him come more than once, if he’d indulge her.

He came gripping the edge of his chair to keep himself still, throat working furiously to keep from making a sound. Come filled her mouth, salty but not unpleasant and once again, Elain swallowed it all. He let her before she was back in his lap, straddling his naked thigh.

“What are you doing tomorrow?” he asked before kissing her with messy, wild abandon. His tongue slid into her mouth, mingling her release with his. She moaned a sigh.

“I have a wedding,” she said regretfully. Lucien broke the kiss to look at her, eyes sparkling with mischief.

“A wedding?”

“My friend Vassa is getting married,” she explain, wishing she had nothing going on. “But maybe next week you could tie me to your bed?”

Lucien smiled.

“Nothing would give me greater pleasure, baby girl.”

She was starting to think the same.

LUCIEN: 

It delighted Lucien to no end when Elain stepped into Jurian’s wedding, arm looped with Arinas. Her eyes swept across the room for a place to sit, landing squarely on him. He wasn’t even trying to contain his amusement as he raised his hand, two fingers beckoning her to join him. Beside him, his brother was staring at his phone, clearly irritated with whatever he saw. He didn’t even notice the object of his fascination approach, not until Arina said, “Is this a set up?” Elain merely smiled, sitting beside him in one of the folding chairs on the lawn. “You should have told me you’d be here,” she said reproachfully, moving her knees until they touched his thighs so Arina could shimmy past and take the chair beside his brother. Lucien had worked this so well, leaving Elain on the aisle. 

“And miss seeing your face look like this?” he teased, mimicking her wide-eyed oh. “I think not.”

“How do you know Vassa?”

“I know Jurian,” he said, nodding to the dark haired man standing stoically beside a wooden podium. Why Jurian and Vassa wanted an outdoor barn wedding would be forever beyond Lucien. The weather was pleasant enough and yet even beneath a high, autumn sun, he felt like he was baking in his suit.

At least he knew better than to wear suspenders on his wedding day, he consoled himself. Not that he planned to get married, but still. Lucien thought Jurian looked absurd and meant to tell him just as soon as he could.

Elain was utterly stunning in a pretty pink dress, her hair half swept from her face. “Big plans tonight?” he teased, resting his arm over the back of her chair. Elain glanced at him.

“Are you ever not…you know?”

He chuckled. “Occasionally. Certainly not around you.”

She huffed out a soft sigh, eyes sliding over his body to her friend. Arina and Eris were pointedly not talking, the tension both painful and palpable. He didn’t envy his brother, so clearly interested in the blonde who wanted nothing to do with him. To be fair, she had just ended things with her ex…and yet Lucien thought Eris was an obvious step up. 

Lucien leaned to Elain again, about to murmur a filthy promise in her ear but the music started and Elain poked him in the ribs to silence him. Lucien could take a hint and, though her bratty behavior always brought his cock alive, he smothered his desire so she could enjoy her friend’s wedding. She hadn’t known he was coming and it was bastardly behavior to make her focus on pleasing him when she so clearly did not care about him at all.

That was clear enough when the wedding ended and both Elain and Arina all but shot from their chairs, pushing through the crowd to go see her. Eris watched as well, leaning towards his brother. 

“They moved in last night,” he murmured. “My card is on the account, though they don’t know it. I told them everything was included…don’t fuck that up for me.”

Lucien merely nodded. He didn’t want them worrying about food or other incidentals when an insane man was so comfortable strangling them.

“I bought Elain a car. She’s been letting Arina drive it to work,” Lucien added, nodding as Jurian passed. They could talk later. 

“I’m having him followed.”

Lucien turned to his brother with interest.

“And?”

“Nothing so far. He doesn’t go anywhere. Just sits in his fucking apartment all goddamn day. Huge waste of money.”

“Maybe you scared him off.”

Eris didn’t answer, though his expression conveyed he doubted that very much. Lucien did, too. If Jack was angry enough to strangle Elain, it was only a matter of time before he tried something with Arina. Eris wouldn’t take his eyes off Jack until he had Arina in his own home, likely in his own bed. What did that feel like, Lucien wondered? To be pursued so relentlessly, to be wanted that ferociously. He thought he might pull away too, might balk and reject at every turn. 

His brother likely would have had better luck if he backed down. Lucien didn’t dare give Eris romantic advice, not after his own had crashed and burned so spectacularly. Eris would just throw Jess in Lucien’s face as a reminder that Lucien had no pedestal on which to stand. Though they were over, Jess was still the ghost that haunted Lucien’s dreams. She’d taken so much and in the end, given nothing back. Not even her heart, which was all Lucien had been asking for. Any other rational person would have recognized Jess was not the universal experience and yet Lucien had loved her so deeply, so unconditionally that the thought of trying again made him want to vomit on the floor.

He’d made himself vulnerable to her in every way possible and in return, she’d taken whatever she could get before moving on to someone more powerful, wealthier, and with better connections. 

No hard feelings, she’d said with those pitying eyes. As if it hadn’t been two years. As if Lucien hadn’t planned a whole life centered around her as his sun. He hated they still moved in the same circles, that she still wore the things he’d given her to taunt him, eyes always teasing as she fingered a silver necklace or a pair of lovely earrings. He hated it, wished she’d stop her stupid fucking games. Stop baiting him into making a fool of himself.

Eyes sliding back to smiling, laughing Elain, Lucien thought that when he ended things—and he fully intended to be the one who called things off—Elain would accept it. No taunting eyes, no showing up at galas and parties with his friends draped in the clothes he’d bought her and the jewels he’d put her in. That was, of course, due to her lack of social standing. Elain would never be invited, which was part of what drew him to her. 

But the other was merely Elain herself. She wasn’t vindictive. Finger prints bruising her throat, and all she’d thought about was her friend. When presented with the opportunity to spend real money, she’d asked him for a used car and every time he sent her something, Elain told him thank you. Not in a seductive buy me more, daddy, sort of way, but a wide-eyed, genuinely surprised, this is too much but I’m too polite to express anything more than gratitude. He’d sent her a new computer when he’d spotted her own, likely purchased her first semester on campus. The e and t keys were coming off and her stickers had faded. She needed a new one. Any other woman would have just told him so but Elain hadn’t thought to. She never would, though it would make Lucien absurdly hard if she did send him a list of things she wanted. 

Things he could give her in exchange for pushing her head on his cock like he’d done in his office. 

As if she could hear the shift in his thoughts, Elain turned to look at him, still smiling. It was a punch to the chest, robbing him of both breath and reason. She was so utterly stunning, standing there in a patch of pooling sunlight. She looked like a princess, effortlessly flawless and so gorgeous that the bride, beautiful as she was, was diminished by Elain’s mere presence. 

It prompted him to his feet, to walk towards her if only to bask in the glow. The bride and groom had pictures to take but the rest of them could migrate across the hillside towards the barn decorated in fairy lights for cocktails while they waited on the reception. And Lucien very much needed a drink. 

Sliding his hand over the exposed skin of her back, Lucien murmured, “Walk with me to the bar?”

“Today is not about you,” Elain chided gently, unaware that her words speared in his gut. “I’m here for classic, clean wedding fun.”

“You don’t think I know how to do the cha cha slide?” Lucien asked, swallowing those feelings while projecting nothing but unbothered confidence. “I can have a PG experience, Elain.”

“With no strings attached?” she asked, arching a perfectly shaped brow. “If I, for example, askyou to dance with me, you're not going to demand repayment at a later date?”

It was tempting and yet Lucien found himself placing his hand theatrically over his chest. “Tonight I am merely Lucien Vanserra, simple man who likes simple things.”

“Are you calling me simple, Lucien?”

He huffed, walking her from the crowd of well-wishers, her hand tucked in the crook of his elbow. “I wouldn’t dare. That wasn’t what I meant.”

She smiled. “I know. I was giving you shit.”

“Brat.”

“None of that,” she chided again. “If you are a simple man then I want to be a perfectly reasonable woman. The kind that can tease you a little without being called names. And besides, I think you like a little push back.”

He almost laughed. What gave her that impression? He’d done nothing but demand submission since they met. “I don’t think that’s true.”

“No? The nepotism baby doesn’t like being given a little bit of a hard time?”

He did laugh, then. “Okay, fine. Maybe if it’s you. But only you,” he added, looking down at her. Elain’s cheeks were flushed with pleasure, head tilted to look at her heeled feet as she walked. It struck him as true, though. Lucien had never really enjoyed being the butt of someone's joke, had never liked too much push back. It reminded him of his father and later on, of Jess. Elain never made it seem as if she were looking down on him and Lucien knew if he gave her as good as he got, she’d laugh it off. 

She’d made them equals that very first day in his office and he was only now realizing it. That was disconcerting. Stepping up the stairs to the deck, Lucien kept his hand on her back, swallowing thickly. Of course he didn’t think he was better than Elain, had never thought that. But he’d also given no thought to this relationship at all, outside of what his dick wanted.

In that moment, all Lucien wanted was to hear Elain tease him again. 

Laugh.

And maybe dance, too.

ELAIN: 

As it turned out, Lucien was incredibly proficient at the cha cha slide. The YMCA, too, though that was certainly easier. As the night wore on, after drinks and toasts and first dances, Lucien shed his jacket and his tie for dancing and general joviality. He’d rolled his sleeves to his elbows and unbuttoned his white collared shirt to his chest, offering her an unparalleled view of his neck and the very beginnings of his chest. 

It was practical to do so, she reminded herself. There was absolutely no air conditioning in the barn and everyone was drenched in a fine layer of sweat. As it stood, Lucien was holding one of Elain’s hands, his other on the small of her back as they panted their way through a slow song. Vassa and Jurian were making out not ten feet away from them and Elain was more than a little jealous. She’d already told Lucien he was going home alone that night and he’d been utterly good natured in his agreement. 

It was dangerous to rest her head against his shoulder. She swore she only did it because she was tired and a little drunk. Lucien merely pulled her closer. “You sure you want to go home alone?” he murmured, pressing a polite kiss to her scalp. 

“Maybe you could drive me home?” she asked him. She didn’t add that she was hoping to do a little making out in the car. She didn’t know if that was even allowed with all his rigid rules. 

“I could do that,” Lucien agreed, his voice laced with some unknown emotion. She didn’t dare look up, keeping her cheek pressed firmly against his damp shirt. “I’ll walk you to your door and everything.”

“Who knew Mr. Vanserra was such a gentleman?”

“I have my moments,” he murmured, fingers rubbing over her bare back. She didn’t think she liked these moments, not when it was so obviously muddying the water between them. How was she supposed to remain objective and clear when he was touching her like he cared about her? Like he wanted her for more than just her body? Lucien, who’d been laughing at her jokes all night and had danced with no one else when she knew he could have, was complicating Elain’s uneasy emotions.

Just the night before she’d been wallowing over Graysen, staring at his last text and willing herself to just respond. She hadn’t thought of him all day, hadn’t run to her phone every five seconds to check for a new message, to scroll through their old photos wistfully. Everything had been about having fun with the man in front of her. 

The music shifted back into a bouncy, utterly danceable beat. Elain and Lucien pulled apart without regret, jumping and laughing just like before. Always touching, though. She hadn’t noticed it at first but now it was impossible not to. His hand would brush her arm or she’d place her palm against his chest. Always reaching for the other, keeping them close. 

Elain only stopped when Arina came over, all but dragging her off the dancefloor. “I’m gonna take off. I have work late tomorrow and I need some sleep. You coming with?”

“Lucien’ll drive me home,” Elain replied breathlessly, reaching for a bottle of water from a nearby cooler. They were standing between the wide, curving entrance of the barn and the deck that led towards the grassy plain and the waiting parking lot.

“You sure?” Arina asked, biting her bottom lip. Elain noted how her friend glanced over her shoulder for a moment, looking for a man who was currently talking to some other brunette. 

“Positive. I won’t be too much longer, but you don’t have to wait up.”

Arina nodded, biting her bottom lip. “I like Lucien.”

And that was it. There was nothing else to say, nothing that wouldn’t get them both in trouble. As it stood, Elain almost told Arina she liked Eris, too. It was just…something happening with these brothers they didn’t want to acknowledge, couldn’t admit to each other, let alone themselves. So they danced around it, taunting and teasing the other without ever naming whatever it was. 

Elain finished her water, turning back to the dance floor where Lucien was engaged in a game of limbo, back arched as he made his way beneath an ever sinking pole. She smiled, well aware what she was feeling was affection. 

It was far longer than she promised before her and Lucien stumbled out, closing the party down with the last stragglers. Lucien fished out his keys with an easy smile, having stopped drinking hours before. Her car was gone and Elain hoped Arina had made it home alright. She slid into the comfortable interior of his car, almost giddy when his large palm gripped her thigh. It wasn’t sexual–merely comfortable, she thought. Lucien drove with one hand, radio playing softly in the background. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever had so much fun at a wedding, of all places,” Lucien murmured as they made their way back to the city.

“No?” she questioned, turning her head to look at him. His auburn hair was unbound around his flushed, still sweaty face and despite a night of near endless dancing, he seemed keyed up.

Lucien squeezed her leg. 

“It’s your witchy little spell,” he teased, unaware of how those words caused butterflies to bounce around her stomach.

“Hardly. You’re just not used to genuinely good company.”

“I know that’s true,” he agreed, squeezing again.

 Elain hesitated, picking her words carefully. 

“You know…when this is all over, I hope you still consider me a friend.”

His thumb rubbed a circle over the fabric of her dress. “I’m not in the habit of staying friends with the women I fuck.”

All those butterflies died in the wake of his easy words, turning to stone in her belly. Elain swallowed hard as Lucien drove, unaware he’d unintentionally hurt her feelings. 

“Do you?” he asked, perhaps noticing she had gone immediately silent. 

“This is different,” Elain tried to explain, hating how her voice sounded. He caught it, glancing over in the dark.

“How so?”

“We’re not…” in love. There was no danger of it, given the clear lines and boundaries they’d both drawn. “Dating.”

“Ah,” he said, as if it explained nothing.

“Friends with benefits implies friends,” she added hastily. “And I don’t just…stop seeing my friends when they’re no longer…”

“Buying you things?” he supplied, she thought to be helpful.

“Having sex with me,” Elain disagreed. She’d forgotten for a moment that Lucien liked to do that. Maybe that was why he didn’t want to be friends. Didn’t want to muddy those waters, either.

Cut all ties, never see a shred of proof of what he’d gotten up to in the name of getting his penis wet. 

He looked again. “Let’s not worry about that for now.”

But she was. She didn’t know why, but the ticking clock in Elain’s head made her very worried. She liked him, and knowing that she was more than a couple of wet holes to him would have eased some of the anxiety she felt. Lucien went back to rubbing his thumb over her dress, settling back into silence. They were nearly to the Starlight when he murmured, “If you want to be friends when this is all over, I think I could do that.”

She swallowed the ballooning relief in her chest. “Good. I promise not to make it awkward.”

He smiled softly. “I believe you wouldn’t.”

Elain reclined her head against the seat as the overhead lights of the Starlight flooded through the dash. She’d never get over this building, builtd in the twenties from old ivory marble. Carved gargoyles stood watch as they got out, eyes trailing them as Lucien guided her towards the door.

“Elain?”

God, she knew that voice. Like something from every nightmare she’d ever had, Elain turned slowly to face Graysen. He was dressed nice enough in a blue and lilac plaid button up and navy pants. He had a suit jacket tossed over his shoulder and his sandy brown hair was mussed. She didn’t dare think as to why. 

“Hey, Gray,” she murmured, noting how Lucien stiffened just beside her. She could practically feel his radiating interest as Graysen wove through the parked cars to come talk to them. She took a steadying breath, heart hammering painfully in her chest. 

Brown eyes snagged on Lucien.

“What’s up, Vanserra?”

“The usual,” came Lucien’s cool reply. Graysen only nodded, undisturbed by Lucien’s standoffishness. 

“How have you been?” Graysen asked her, eyeing the off shoulder, backless pink dress she was wearing. She knew he recognized it from a formal event, was remembering how he’d peeled it off her body before quietly having sex with her. How she’d once cherished that memory. Now it made her feel sick. 

“Good,” she replied. “Vassa got married tonight.” She felt like she needed to explain what she was doing out with Lucien Vanserra at two in the morning. Graysen didn’t look at the man beside her at all, inching a step closer.

“I forgot about that. You look…” his words failed for a moment. “I always did like that dress. You look great, Lainey.”

Lucien was so still he might have been a statue. Elain almost vomited at the mention of that old nickname, of how casually Graysen told Lucien he’d seen everything she was wearing before, implying he’d taken it all off, too.

“You should respond to my text,” he added reproachfully. “Lets catch up, yeah? I miss you.”

“I—”

Lucien’s fingers curled around her waist. 

“I’d like that,” she finished lamely. Graysen smiled, every inch of him triumphant. Night ruined. 

“Perfect. Talk to you soon.”

She nodded, letting him walk away with a bouncy step. Lucien all but pushed her forward, still gripping her waist. He said nothing as they stepped through the revolving glass doors, onto the checked marble floors and the gorgeous well-lit lobby. Elain liked the character—little carved leaves trailed up ivory columns and portraits of women with curled bobs and flapper dresses adorned the walls. 

She had a private elevator accessed only with a keycard. Lucien waited for her to drag it out of her clutch and swipe, his face visible in the mirrored elevator doors. His cheeks were flushed, no longer from his enjoyment but from what she thought was anger. It was the way he held his lips, and the tightness of his eyes that made her think so. 

They stepped inside, avoiding the other’s reflection in the dimly lit space. Lucien still had his hand on her body and Elain considered that a win. “Why are you avoiding Nolan?” he finally asked when the halfway floor chimed around them.

“He hurt my feelings,” she told Lucien honestly. They were friends, after all. 

“Oh?”

“You’ve never had your heart broken?” she dared to ask. Maybe he hadn’t. Elain couldn’t imagine anyone leaving him. “He just moved on so quickly, it was like—”

“Like none of it ever happened,” Lucien finished for her right as they reached her floor. 

“Yeah,” she breathed. She expected him to stay in the elevator, to bid her goodnight without even a kiss. That wasn’t how she’d wanted this night to go. Lucien didn’t hesitate to follow just behind, looking around as if he’d never seen the penthouse suite before. Elain and Arina had gagged when they came in the night before. It was massive, with a wall of windows overlooking the city, and stairs that led to the pool on the roof. Three bedrooms, more than they required, a living room and a full kitchen, not to mention three and a half bathrooms made it the nicest place Elain had ever stayed in her life. 

She kicked her shoes off, letting her aching bare feet cool against the faux wood floors. 

“Was it recent?” he questioned. She shrugged.

“We dated for two years. It just takes a minute to get over.”

He nodded, running a hand through his hair. “Sure. You should have told him we were on a date. Made him a little jealous.”

Padding for the kitchen, Elain looked over at Lucien with surprise. “I’m sure he was thinking it.”

Lucien shrugged casually, unbuttoning his shirt like he was home. Maybe he was. How often had he stayed here, she wondered? Elain filled a cup with water before thinking better of it and offering him one, too. Lucien accepted, now shirtless and glorious.

“I worry you’re not getting much out of this.”

Elain gaped, her cup nearly clattering to the floor. “You bought me a car.”

“It hardly counts.”

Hardly counts.

“And what do you get out of this?” she demanded. Lucien’s eyes sparkled with mischief. 

“Your submission and sex exactly the way I like it. It’s just…” he hesitated for a moment. “You don’t ask for as much as the other women.”

Other women. She ignored the way that made her gut clench. She was prepared to offer him a rebuttal when loud moaning floated through the space. It was masculine and familiar. Lucien’s head snapped towards a closed door, mouthing the question, Eris?

Arina’s voice answered for them. “Eris, don’t stop—” 

“Want to watch a movie?” Elain asked him, eyebrows raised. This was the part where he left.

“Absolutely.”

Lucien:

Lucien was a fucking moron to spend the night again. Even dumber to be stripped to his underwear, laying beneath a pretty pink floral bed cover Elain had clearly brought with her. She’d put on some movie he was barely watching, too busy thinking about the peek of white thong he’d gotten when she came into bed. He’d bought it, along with the sheer nighty draped over her perky tits. All he wanted to do was eat between her legs. 

He couldn’t figure out how to make it happen. He had an arm around her body, her head tucked against his bare chest. Had all things been normal he might have demanded she crawl on his face and hold herself still. He was utterly jealous of his brother in the next room, though the sounds had died to nothing when Lucien and Elain began banging around loudly, trying to communicate they were very much around without making it weird. 

Lucien knew why he wanted to get between her legs and the knowledge that he was jealous of Graysen Nolan was almost too much.

Go home you dumb motherfucker.

Lucien trailed his hand down her arm, instead. Even if this was nothing more than fun, he didn’t want her leaving him from fucking Nolan. Elain didn’t react, eyes still fixated on the television. He decided he’d try a little more and if she stayed still, he’d deal with his too-hard cock some other way.

His fingers reached her stomach, thumb brushing just beneath her breasts. Elain exhaled softly, pressing a kiss to his body. Encouraged, Lucien continued lower until he reached the lacy thong that was haunting him and began rubbing through the fabric.

“You’re bad at watching a movie,” she whispered.

“I’d be better if you weren’t so fucking hot,” he replied easily. “I want to go down on you.”

She looked up at him, surprised. “You do?”

All the fucking time. 

“Do you care?”

She inhaled. “Of course not, Lucien. I just…what should I be doing?”

He almost told her to lay back. “Will you sit on my face?”

Her eyes went wide. “Sure.”

Elain shimmied out of her underwear faster than he could ask her to keep them on. He liked seeing her in the things he bought her. Lucien intended to gift her a new backless dress so Graysen could never ogle her in that pink one again. For now, though, thong tossed somewhere to the floor, Elain was straddled over his face, still pointed towards the television.

“Am I allowed to touch you?” she asked hesitantly. 

“Baby,” he whispered, pulling her closer to his mouth. “Tonight is just about feeling good. You can call me daddy again in the morning.”

And for the first time in his life, Lucien meant it. He wanted her whimpering at his feet more than he wanted most things but tonight, he also wanted to remind her that when it came down to it, Graysen wasn’t worth the effort it took to miss him. 

“Touch my cock if you want to. Do whatever you want to me.”

Elain exhaled sharply when he took that first taste. He forgot she was leaning down his body, that her hands were running up and down his stomach. Lucien was lost in Elain’s wet pussy and the sweet, musky taste of her. He’d never tire of this. Even when things were over, he’d always be thinking about her perfect, pink cunt. She began rolling her hips, riding him and Lucien was utterly gone.

Right up until he felt her swallow his cock. Lucien jerked, twisting to look at the woman laying atop him, sucking him down, down, down. He was still daydreaming about holding her flush against his body in his office. No one had ever managed such a thing and yet for ten glorious seconds, Elain had put his entire cock into her throat before she ended the game. She was working her way down with each new pass, pushing her pussy back against him, having registered the loss.

“Sorry, baby, but fuck who taught you to suck cock?”

She hummed a soft laugh but Lucien was serious. He wanted to personally thank that man. He indulged himself for only a moment, watching her hollowed cheeks and her wet, sloppy tongue swirling over his swollen head. 

And then Lucien was back, determined he would not be outdone by Elain and her sucking lips. Lucien wanted Elain to think he treated eating pussy like it was his job, like all he thought about was laving her clit with his tongue. She was appropriately loud given she was also gagging on his cock.

Elain made another pass, her nose brushing the skin of his stomach and Lucien groaned loudly—loud enough her roommate knew what they were up to.

“Again, baby, do it again,” he begged before drawing her clit between his lips to suck the same as she was. Elain’s vibrating moan had Lucien hanging on a razor’s edge.

She did exactly as he asked, holding him in her throat, nose smushed to his abdomen. Lucien jerked, unable to contain his release. He came roughly, still eating at her pussy, if only to feel her come against him too.

She did mere moments later, grinding so hard against him Lucien could barely breathe. His whole face was wet in her release—just the way he liked it.

Coming down was another thing entirely. Some small part of him, the part that valued holding boundaries, knew he should kiss her goodnight and leave. Elain panted, flopping to the bed beside him, one hand tucked between her tits. She was still in the lacy nighty, devoid of panties and while Lucien’s flagging cock had been pulled from the band of his own underwear. He pulled them up, holding her against him. 

“You can stay if you want,” she told him, offering him an out. “No hard feelings if you need to go.”

Lucien slid down the bed, stuffing his penis back into his pants.

“I can stay.”

A smile slid over her features. “Good,” she murmured, head back against his chest. Lucien kissed the top of her scalp, well aware he was fucked.

Well and truly fucked. 

#elucien #elucien fanfiction #elucien fanfic #elain x lucien #i know i say this every time #but truly my idiotisty to loveriesty fic yet #youll see #my block from last week seems to be out of the way #just needed to write some filth and clear my head

[notyetneedcoffee]

Author Update and TAG Notifications

So, I’ve been MIA for a while. Been working on some personal stuff and preparing a novel for publication. I think I’ve finally got my schedule reset to something close to normal and have been spending time also writing fanfiction again for fun!

Since it’s been a long time, my TAG LISTS are likely way out of date.

To make it easier on my time, I’ve created a sub-blog NotYetNeedCoffee-Posting to manage everyone that wants personal notification of a new story or an update. I am no longer going to add individual tags to the ends of the story posts.

If you want direct notification, please go to NotYetNeedCoffee-Posting, follow and then chose to get notifications. (for those who don’t know - it’s under the triple dot button!).

I will post when I update, and include all relevant links to the updates!

Thank you all for your support, likes, reposts, and comments! I cannot express how much they mean to me!

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[villainousshakespeare]

I’m Alive!

Hello everyone. I know I vanished from Tumblr and basically abandoned Therapy Fit for a God, and I wanted to apologize for that. My dad suffered a heart attack (he is okay now) and for over a month my life revolved around that while he was in the icu. 

The fall out from this led to me getting back into therapy, putting up a new play I wrote & directed, and quitting my job effective the end of this month to take a two month creative sabbatical in Europe. 

All that said, the important thing is that I should now have time to write again, and Therapy Fit for a God is right at the top of my list. So, basically I am asking you all to hang with me, as I should be finishing and posting the last few chapters soon.

In the mean time, have some Loki! 

@yespolkadotkitty @just-the-hiddles @hopelessromanticspoonie @wine-and-whines @arch-venus25 @caffiend-queen @devilish–doll @enchantedbyhiddles @hiddlesholic @i-do-not-fangirl-i-fanwoman @kellatron55 @ladyoftheteaandblood @latent-thoughts @yespolkadotkitty@maryxglz @myoxisbroken @nuggsmum @nildespirandum @pedeka @redfoxwritesstuff @sinfully-lustful-darling @vodka-and-some-sass @wrathkitty @kingtwhiddleston @wolfsmom1 @poetic-fiasco @shiningloki @dangertoozmanykids101 @bookworm-christina @amwolowicz @delightfulheartdream @frostbitten-written @what-a-flammable-heart @tom-hlover @nonsensicalobsessions @myraiswack @loki-yoursaviourishere @ghostypau @ms-cellanies @colorfulfreakstudentpizza @mareebird @colorfulfreakstudentpizza  @szycha22 @chokemedaddyloki @queenofallhobos @just-the-hiddles-reads  @alwida10  @justjoanne242 @chantsdemarins @lovelysizzlingbluebird @lokiprompts @evieplease @unlucky-number-13 @bitchassbecky691 @georges-left-ear @mischief2sarawr @thedistractedagglomeration​

#Hi All #Loki #Blog #Sorry #Missed you

[musicalchaos07]

Fic writer asks! 14, 16, 32, 39 :)

14. how do you write emotional scenes? Do you ever feel what the characters feel? Do you draw from personal experiences?

The spirit of Nancy Wheeler or Jonathan Byers enters my body, possesses me and it results in a paragraph. The serious answer is I don't feel like I write really big emotional scenes, but I'm also very specific about what music I listen to when I write so I think that's how I tap into emotions. For emotional dialogue specifically, I try to imagine if I could see/hear the character saying it and then edit as necessary

16. How many fic ideas are you nurturing right now? Share one of them?

PLS 😭 SO MANY SO SO SO SO MANY. The one that infected my brain today is a Modern AU for Byler where they're coworkers at a Barnes & Noble, Mike sells Books & Will is a barista but idk if anything Will come from that. I'm also rotating Jonathan & Nancy in the microwave per usual (who can say what their up to) but the big one I want to start is the 10 Things I Hate About You Byler/Jancy AU

32. Name three of your favorite fanfic writers.

Stoprobbers, maddie_grove, gnarly_love & You ofc! (but also I love all of our Jancy writers so much)

39. Share a snippet from a WIP

Nancy adjusts her bangs and applies lipstick as final checks. She's not going to stay out long, but Mike has practically begged her to join him and Will. So now she's meeting them at some bar downtown to celebrate Jonathan's birthday. She's halfway out the door before she remembers to grab her phone.  'ur late'  A text from Mike reads she rolls her eyes. She's not even that late. Her phone starts buzzing in her hand, God could her brother be more obnoxious.  "What?!" Nancy snaps answering the phone "Hello to you too" Jonathan laughs Technically, Jonathan is her ex. But they had both been so young Nancy really doesn't feel like it counts. They had dated for a while in high school but broken up right before college. There were no hard feelings really, they just wanted different things. So now they're just friends, quasi in-laws and she ignores the flips in her stomach after too many glasses of wine when he looks at her. She makes a mental note to stick to vodka sodas tonight. "Sorry Mike is on my ass and I didn't-" Nancy starts to explain "Oh good so you're late too" he jokes "How can you be late when you live with them?” she questions “Despite what your dad thinks I do have this thing called a job” he snarks  “Ha ha very funny” “But you are coming right?” he checks  “I am literally on my way” she promises “Good I don't want to spend the whole night with Mike and Will being Mike and Will” he complains “Yea I figured” she half-laughs back Their brothers had gotten engaged recently and made sure everyone knew it. Nancy would consider it cute if they weren't obnoxious in front of a newly single Jonathan. In her opinion it was bad enough he had to move into their brother's place, but the boys seemingly have no worries over whether or not they're upsetting him.  “Ground control to major Nancy” he jokes  “Yea yea sorry lost in thought” she apologizes  “You don't say” he teases “Why did you call again?” she sasses back at him “Do you need a ride?” he questions sincerely "No Jonathan, I don't need a ride to your birthday dinner" she assures him exasperated “Alright just checking, I'll see you soon” “Yea see ya” she tells him ending their call

^ Idk if that will become a fic we'll see

#Writing/fic ask game

[sakuramidnight15]

-RSA OC Information-

Character Bio

Name: Castiel Ortiz

(Japanese: カスティエルオルティス)

Romaji: Kasutieru Orutisu

Quote: "Hah? Why do I give a damn about the rules? Dumbass?"

V/A: Tetsuya Kakihara (Japanese)

Gender: Male

Age: 18-Physical (???-Actually)

Birthday: July 24

Star Sign: Leo

Eye Color: Neon Aquamarine (His normal eye color)

Sliver (Glows when using his angel abilities)

Hair Color: Golden Blonde

Height: 200 cm

Race: Hunter Angel

Species: Purification Type (High-ranked)

Homeland: Glowndia Isle (4th Island Level)

Family: Unnamed Parents 

Unnamed Grandfather

Deangelo Celino (Younger Brother)

Hikma Celino (Aunt)

________________________________________

School Status and Fun Facts

Dorm: Tenkiangelus

School Year: Third

Class: 3-C (Same Class with Achlys)

Student no. 19

Occupation: Student

Dorm Leader

Ghost/Impurity Hunter

Runway/Gravure Model

Club: N/A

Best Subject: P.E. Potions, and Literature

Dominant Hand: Ambidextrous

Favorite Color: White, Beige, and Yellow

Favorite Food: Grilled or Fried Meat, Vodka Shots, Spicy Food (Mostly), and BBQ,

Least Favorite Food: Tasteless Meals, Sourness, Frog's Meat, and Sweets (Mostly),

Likes: Pole-dancing, His Modeling Career, Stockpile money, His Younger Brother (That's a secret), Giving anyone thirst drive from his looks (Mostly), Collecting Heaven Dimes (Mostly), Him being free,

Dislikes: Insults, Losing Cash, Being Ordered (Which that involves from others), Losing to a bet, Annoying Ghosts/Impurities, His Brother got hurt (Mostly), Being Judged,

Hobbies: Pole-dancing (Mostly), his job as a gravure model, Betting on high stakes, Giving anyone a thirst drive from his clothes (Mostly), Sass/Bossy King, Slightly a rule breaker, Loud Cussing Comebacks (Mostly),

Talents: High-skilled Angel Magic, High-Flying Abilities, High-skilled Gun/Sniper Abilities, Gravure Modeling Skills, Third-Eye, Telepathic-link,

Nicknames: Castel or Cai (From his family and friends)

Castiel-senpai or Ortiz-senpai (From the freshmen students)

Tiel or Ass Whore (From Deangelo, mostly an insult)

Dorm Leader (From the Dorm Members)

Other Nicknames:

N/A

________________________________________

Appearance and Personality

Appearance: Castiel has rather a tall male and muscular male body build. He has golden blonde hair which it gets messy from time to time whenever he sleeps, definitely easy to get bed hairs on a daily basis. He has neon aquamarine colored eyes which they can glow into a sliver color when using his angel abilities. Castiel tends to be a rebellious angel and is also a well-known gravure model.

Personality: Born as the eldest son in his family in the fourth island level of 'Glowndia Isle'. He never liked anyone judging him from time to time eventually while spending his childhood memories with his younger brother. It wasn't before long when his grandfather explained that him being a free wasn't even a problem to handle.

He always reminded him that he's that despite anything that always tried to bring him down then show them who their messing with. Needless to say he kept his word till now.

The current Castiel we're now seeing is a man who has definition of attitude and sassy-like behavior and is also the type, he also has a cussing habit of anyone got to judge him out of the blue, he would not hesitate to do rather a good cussing comeback, apparently it has now became a habit for him and wouldn't stop doing it after gaining it.

At least from some time, he would actually be honest on rare occasions, that did it directly which to the person that he said it would find it as a insult but Castiel wouldn't give a damn about it though, though he would be annoyed easily. Sometimes he tends to be flirty but only to the people that catches his interest which it happens often if he sees anyone who can fulfill that eventually, mostly his clothes that he wears would give a lot of people thirsty drives since he's a gravure model.

For rare moments if you get closer to him, he often does something that seems rather normal than an angel would even do despite himself being a cussing rebellious kid. He seems to have patience for it but only warns you that it has its limits, sometimes he tends to be a little busy towards anything unexpected and that's no joke for sure.

Sometimes his limits would break the pressure in him. He seems to show that he cares for what made him for what he is, and wouldn't hesitate to beat it to their brains for them to remember, he knows his limits and wouldn't mind showing anyone about it, does it without any shame.

This guy can be rather complicated to deal with... But hey, he has his reasons.

________________________________________

Trivia

-The name 'Castiel' is literally meaning "My cover is God" or "Shield of God" in theophory in the Bible. While his surname 'Ortiz' seems to be disputed in meaning, deriving from either Basque, Latin fortis meaning "brave, strong", or Latin fortunius meaning "fortunate".

-He's based on Panty from the series. His personality a little similar to her from the show.

-He often bickers with his younger brother Deangelo from time to time, despite that they still cared for each other but wouldn't admit it.

-He has his fair share of getting along with Casimir thanks to the two dorms rivalry. Mostly it's them doing bet games but in fighting, it's a one on one gun fight. Both skills almost matched.

-It appears that the staff had a bit of a hard time with him and the dorm to their rule breaking, which headmaster would agree to them a bit.

-He seems to have a slight fond of Haruki and Sasuke from the past after meeting them prior before. The twins weren't expecting to see him again eventually.

-Fenella had often destroyed his ears whenever he slacks off if he dared to.

-He's kinda bossy towards Ismene, which Fenella would smack him for it but Ismene doesn't mind it at all.

-His voice sounds pretty seductive and sweet, but the tone changes whenever he get serious. Which is why I chose Tetsuya Kakihara to be his voice actor.

-As a gravure model, he's definitely well-known and popular.

-As a ghost hunter, he liked to get the dimes but only gets a cheaper price, much to his annoyance.

-Seems to be a dog lover.

#mc #oc #twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #gacha club #gacha games #gacha club mod #royal sword academy #rsa #bio #character information #oc-sorted fandorm #castiel ortiz #casti

[hiddlestan-with-a-dream]

WOAH!!! Guess who’s back on Tumblr!!! @lovesmesomehiddles @wintersoldier1989 @lotus-eyedindiangoddess @fyrecrafted @hopelessromanticspoonie @just-the-hiddles @just--another--daydreamer @vodka-and-some-sass @is-it-madness @karushinekomiya

[lomotiny]

Restaurants billings mt

Now, he said, of course, this didn’t happen and they were never rich but it is a fond memory of his childhood. Every New Year’s Eve, they ate this beef as it was supposed to make you rich. She learned to make this bulgogi-style beef from her former Korean roommate in San Francisco. When he was growing up, his mother didn’t have much money. I thoroughly enjoyed the dish, but I might have enjoyed how it was served even more.įor every Korean Beef Bowl ordered, Chef Nick Steen personally serves the dish. I will flat out say that the malt vinegar mayo was the hit of this dish!Īnd my third choice (but not the least) was the Korean Beef Bowl consisting of a bulgogi-style beef, ramen noodles, scallions, radishes, and a gochujang aioli. There were the usual cheese curds with a shiitake mushroom gravy, a malt vinegar mayonnaise, and herb gremolata on top of the perfect fries. Peter V’s was a bit of a different take on traditional poutine and very appealing to my taste buds. I even went so far as to find the best poutine in Quebec City when I was there! I absolutely love this Canadian dish and order it every time I’m in Canada or I find it in the northern US. This burrata also had fresh stone fruits, peach puree, toasted pistachios and was finished off with an aged cherry vinegar. It was a bit different from the previous but equally as good even though it was like comparing apples to oranges. I solved my “problem” by ordering the three things I was eyeing and had them all come out together. When trying new places, this is always a good problem to have in my opinion. I ran into another instance of wanting several things on the menu. I’m telling you, there’s huckleberry EVERYTHING in Montana! Even though I added a sugar rim it was still a little too tart/bitter for me although the flavor was great. I started with the Big Skai to try out the huckleberry vodka. Thankfully, I was able to get a reservation early when they opened. Location: 2601 Minnesota Ave, Billings, MT 59101 WalkersĪlso on the suggestion from Andi, I decided I had to make it to Walkers as well. It gave the perfect balance of sweet to savory. Yep, you read that correctly! This delicious hollandaise topped some shaved ham, my over-medium fried egg, and a fluffy biscuit. A Hawaiian take on the dish, it got me with its caramelized pineapple hollandaise. When I saw The Bennie, I knew I had to order it. I love eggs benedict but the traditional version gets old. Okay, admittedly, I haven’t had very many but again, the creativity here just calls out to me! The vanilla offset the blueberry very well and it was quite possibly the best mimosa I’ve ever had. This is also a big deal because I’m not a fan of blueberries. I started with the Blueberry Vanilla-Mosa, one of the housemade mimosas. I can confidently say The Sassy Biscuit sparked with complete sass…right, Biscuit? 😉 The sophisticated twist to elevate typical breakfast food is what I need to create a spark between this meal and myself. Honestly, this is exactly the type of place I want for breakfast or brunch. prides itself on “comfort food served with a sophisticated twist”. This is kind of a big deal for me since I have never been in love with breakfast and generally skip it at home. I’ve really gotten into breakfast/brunch places lately. As always, don’t miss the map below with the exact locations of all of these yummy Billings, Montana restaurants! Breakfast & Brunch The Sassy Biscuitīreakfast is the first meal of the day so the first restaurant you should head to is The Sassy Biscuit Co. I have categorized these into breakfast/brunch, lunch, dinner, and drinks/dessert for easy finding. Now, I’m sharing my guide to the best Billings, Montana restaurants including what to order! Billings, Montana Restaurants Although I had never been to Billings, I had been to Montana and I would never have guessed I was about to visit a fantastic foodie destination. What is the first thing that comes to mind when you hear Billings, Montana? I’m going to bet it isn’t food, right? Haha, I didn’t think so! Don’t worry, you aren’t the only one.

#Restaurants billings mt

[studiosem2thomas]

Persona Description Case Study/ Inspiration

This is taken from Odd Companys Website:

https://liquor-centre.co.nz/odd-company/

THE FANCY ONE: GIN, CUCUMBER & LIME WITH SPARKLING WATER

A  flashy night on the town, or a potluck in the suburbs, this little number is here to raise the tone. A refreshing hit of lime is followed by an unmistakeable hit of gin’s best fragrant friend, juniper, coupled with an aromatic hint of lemongrass and a finish of crisp cucumber notes. Ohhhh, fancy.

THE PARTY GUY: VODKA, LEMON, LIME & YUZU WITH SPARKLING WATER

Lively, fun and a little bit unexpected, The Party Guy is here to turn up the volume on any occasion. Yuzu, a Japanese citrus, is enjoying the limelight here and rightly so with its exciting blend of lemon, mandarin and grapefruit flavours. Zesty, full-bodied, fresh.

THE CHEEKY ONE: VODKA, PEACH & PASSIONFRUIT WITH SPARKLING WATER

Feeling a little fruity? The Cheeky One encourages you to bring your sass along to experience some floral peachiness paired with the tarty sweetness of passionfruit and backed by a subtle dry undertone of black tea extract.

So whether you’re in the mood, or want to get in the mood, there’s a bit of Odd Company ready for you.

The way that Odd Company have a few used short snappy sentences to describe their personas is what I hope to achieve with my persona descriptions 

[lex-munro]

[Glitter on the Wet Streets: Part 6] Heads Will Roll

The gang hires Jessica Jones to help with the case.  Now they have two photographers, so they can gather twice the evidence.  (That’s how that works, right?)

Chapter 6 of (pretty sure?) 12.

Grumpy!Jess is grumpy.

Warnings:  Canon divergent based on the MCU.  Oblique spoilers for Black Widow, Wandavision, The Falcon and the Winter Soldier, Hawkeye, Daredevil, Jessica Jones, and The Defenders.  Discussion of abusive relationships (both romantic and platonic) and recovery from abuse.  Brief use of a misogynist pejorative (from a fem, but still).  Cat adoption as therapy.  Language: PG-13 (primetime TV plus s***, f***, and p***y).

Pairing:  Matt/Eddie, minor Eddie/OMC, past Eddie/Venom, reference to Luke/Jess.

Timeline:  A year after the events of No Way Home, but concurrent with the events of Hawkeye (told you it was canon divergent), sort of.

Disclaimer:  I doesn’t owns the movies or the characters.  Or the assorted objects of pop culture reference.

Heads Will Roll

  MJ is putting Eddie’s new info in its own little corner of the board when Matt just opens the door.

“Ugh, you always let me get my finger on the damn doorbell,” their visitor complains.  (“Want you to feel like you’re accomplishing something,” Matt sasses.)

Eddie knows that grumpy voice…  “Jones?!”

She eyes him with her usual level of casual hostility.  “Have we met?”

Ah.  “Not in this universe, apparently,” Eddie admits.

“Explain, now.”

“Uh-uh,” says Matt.  “I call boyfriend privileges, I get first dibs on any explanations about alternate universes.”

“You’re such a trash fire, Murdock…”

“Love you, too, Jess.”

“You said you need an investigator to get something on Kingpin, so here I am.  What’s with all the twelve-year-olds?”

“Seventeen,” the kids all chorus with righteous indignation.

Oof, great start.

“Right,” says Eddie, rubbing his hands together.  “I’m Eddie Brock.  These three are interns at the Manhattan Word on the Street, where I’m currently a staff writer.  Peter, Ned, and MJ.  Please be nice, because this is MJ’s place, the whole weird Kingpin-versus-Hawkeye thing is her scoop, and she is an evil genius.  Also, be nice to my cat, because he’s the reason we have several thousand dollars with which to pay you for your time.  Gang, that’s Jessica Jones, former superhero, currently still super but too jaded to hero.  In my version of things, she ‘n I would trade info—I’d help her crack cases, she’d help me bust scumbags.  Investigative reporting dream team.  In fact, she’s the one who helped me pin down Fat Man Auto Repair.”

“Holy shit,” Jones says, looking ever-so-slightly impressed.  “How is this my life?  Murdock, Cage, Rand, that whole thing with the undead dragon, and now some guy from apparently another dimension who creepily knows me.”

“I’m still waiting on the explanation for the alternate universe thing,” Matt adds.

Eddie is acutely aware of the kids staring silently at his back.  “Uhhh…  Magic spell went boom last December, several alternate universes collided, Spider-Man saved the day.  My life wasn’t great where I came from, so I kinda got adopted into this universe.  Ta-da.”

“That explains nothing,” Jones says at the same time that Matt says, “That explains so much.”

“Uh,” Eddie says again, trying to think of a way to keep Peter’s hard-won secret and still satisfy Jones.  “Bad things went down, Spider-Man asked a wizard for help—”

“Sorcerer,” Ned corrects, and gets elbowed by MJ.  “What?  Dr. Strange doesn’t wear a hat, so he’s technically not a wizard!  The new Captain America said so on Colbert.”

“The spell got messed up,” Eddie goes on.  “I helped out, so as a favor I got to stay.”

You didn’t do shit; we helped.

“Shutup,” Eddie hisses under his breath.

Jones slowly nods.  “So.  Your new boyfriend’s insane, got it.”

“How are you such a skeptic after the dragon?” Matt demands.

“Scotch.  Sometimes vodka.  Let’s move on, since you’re paying.  What’s that crackpot tinfoil hat board?”

Eddie snorts with stifled laughter.

MJ glares at them both before going over the board.  “We now know the Tracksuit Mafia is one of Kingpin’s biggest groups of enforcers.”  Front and center, below a portrait of Fisk, the photos of Ivan and the enigmatic ‘K.’  “They showed at the scene of a charity gala, looking for something at a skeevy-rich-people secret auction there.  Somebody dressed like Ronin—who kicked their asses during the Blip—was also there.”  She taps the news still of Ronin saving a dog.  “Next we see of Ronin is at the apartment across the alley from Eddie’s, which belongs to Kate Bishop, Renaissance girl for the ages, whose security tycoon mom we’re pretty sure is working for Kingpin, covering up for his various ventures and their shell companies.”  A scan of the student ID and basic social media info under the heading ‘College Archery Girl.’

“Huh.  Always thought Bishop Security was a little too squeaky to be clean,” grunts Jones.

“Bishop’s apartment gets attacked by the Tracksuits shortly after she’s seen going there with Hawkeye—whole thing burns, along with four other apartments, including Eddie’s.”  News article on the fire, Snowflake’s picture and the GoFundMe link.  “Tracksuits have a hell of a car chase with the archers, giant arrow through the Manhattan Bridge.”  Another still from a news broadcast.  “Days later, Eddie spots a Black Widow at Bishop’s apartment at the same time I get pics of one of the Street’s senior editors taking money from a Tracksuit, leading to us using Eddie’s charms to hack the guy’s phone and find out he’s been taking money to cover up Kingpin’s shit since the end of the Blip.”  Mugshot of the blonde assassin (‘Yelena Belova - Black Widow!!’), incriminating photos and call log (‘Turns Out Rafa Sucks ☹️’).  “Eddie does some footwork, confirms several of the Tracksuit bigwigs and two of their laundering operations.  This stuff here by itself is from his old leads, back in his universe.”

Jones, bless her, is actually looking at the board seriously.  “So.  Kingpin and Hawkeye are after the same thing, but neither one has it yet, or the hostilities wouldn’t be so hot.  Kingpin has press and security both in his pocket, no surprise.  Little Bishop probably isn’t in on it, but might be, seeing as she had a chat with an assassin and lived.  Let’s not even touch the Avengers shit—just use whatever Hawkeye is doing as a distraction.  We might be able to get some real shit on Fisk, like Murdock did before.  We might even be able to make it stick this time, as long as he doesn’t see us coming.”

Matt nods.  “Especially since he gave me his word he would serve his time and wouldn’t hurt people.”

“What the hell?  In exchange for what?” Jones asks suspiciously.

“Not sending his wife to jail.”

“Heh.  Nice.”

Eddie’s phone buzzes.

Rafa how do you feel abt Persian food? like kebabs and buttered rice

Eddie prefers Greek, but he doesn’t say so.  “Sorry, honeypot duty beckons,” he says aloud.

sounds great! what time?

That is almost definitely a trap.  I think he is onto you.  You must not have been very convincing last night.

Rafa my place, 6:30?

“Screw you, I was perfectly convincing, and I told you your dumb plan sucked.”

Matt liked my plan, Venom points out haughtily.

“Oh, no, you do not get to gang up on me just ‘cause you decided you like Matt now.”

MJ hisses urgently.

Eddie looks up from his phone and sees Jones eyeing him like he’s absolutely batshit.  The kids all look mortified.

Matt gives a little sigh.  “Well, I’m glad to hear you two getting along so well.  Venom, would you please introduce yourself to Jess before she decides we all belong in an asylum?”

“Yeah, sure, no point keeping a brain-eating alien a secret,” Eddie grumbles.

Venom apparently decides to be ingratiating.  He forms a cartoonish blob on Eddie’s shoulder with two big milky eyes, foregoing all the teeth.  “Hello, Jess!  I am V, and Eddie is my symbiotic host, but also my ex whom I have recently adopted as a sad loser pet like those ugly little dogs with the protuberous eyes, and Matt is our irritatingly smug boyfriend.”

Jones is still making an intensely skeptical face.  “An alien.  Who you bicker with like an old married couple.”

“That’s about the size of it,” MJ confirms.

Jones closes her eyes.  “How much money are we talking?”

“I’unno, twenty large?” Eddie proposes with feigned disinterest.  “Half in advance?”

“Hnnnnnghfine.  Fuck it.  Fine.”

“Also, V thinks dinner with Rafa is a trap.”

“Meeting up at his place or the venue?”

“His.”

Jones nods.  “Murdock can use his Superman hearing to tail you for a bit.  This Rafa guy doesn’t know me, so I can be waiting at the venue just in case.”

~*~*~

He looks good up there, Venom decides.

Eddie makes sure not to look.  He knows that up on a fire escape across the street, Daredevil is perched in shadow.  “Yes, he does,” Eddie mumbles under his breath, “but let’s please stay focused on not getting our asses kicked by the bad guys or the corrupt editor.  And, just because I know how conflicted you are about his smugness levels, I’m gonna tell him you said that.”

WAIT NO I TAKE IT BACK

“Babe, V says you look good.  I think it’s the perching that does it for him.”

ARGH, you traitor!  You are so lucky Rafa will be here any second, or—

“Hey, hi!” Rafael says as he comes out the front door of his condo and locks up.

“Hi!” Eddie says with a grin.  “So, where’re we headed?  I gotta tell ya, I know zilch about this part o’ town.  You said Persian is like kebabs ‘n stuff, right?  Kinda like Greek food, then?”

“Kinda like,” Rafa agrees.  “Their empires conquered a lotta the same ground.  Little spot called Kebab Palace—awful name, I know, but the food’s great.”  He gently but firmly grabs Eddie’s arm just above the elbow, steering him down the sidewalk and pressing close.

From a girl, it’d seem like a flirty, demure move.  Stretching ‘acceptable’ PDA as far as propriety allows.  From a sleaze-bag, it feels like a threat.

“Oh, hel-lo,” Eddie says with a chuckle.  “Wow, I haven’t had somebody do the romantic-arm-in-arm thing in a long while.  Before, uh…well, you know.”

“V didn’t go in for public displays, huh,” Rafa says pityingly.  “That must’ve been so hard for you, since you’re such a tactile guy.”

It was.  The ‘not in public’ part might be Eddie’s fault, but V wasn’t into physical affection of any kind, until he suddenly was, and Eddie had been essentially untouched except in violence for more than six months by then.  Eddie gives an uncomfortable shrug.  “It, uh…wasn’t no dream, that’s for sure.  But I came out the other side all right, yeah?  And here we are.  Only took me eleven months to get back on the bike, as the sayin’ goes.  I’ve read about some folks—other, um, ones like me, coming from bad situations—taking years to be able to try dating without, like, panic attacks.”

V grumbles quietly in the back of his mind, but pokes around until he finds the first time Eddie tried to date after landing here, and the humiliating moment of abject, unreasoning terror that had sent him running without even going into the restaurant.  Then he projects a sort of soft, contrite feeling.

“You’re doing great,” Rafa assures him with a little pat on his shoulder.

“It’s, uh, exciting,” Eddie says truthfully.  “Being able to be with somebody again.  Being around somebody, and having little intimacies, like hand-holding or bad jokes or whatever.”

Sleeping with Matt pressed against him (probably using his pulse as a kind of white noise generator, come to think of it…).  Breakfast.  Smiling just at the sound of his voice over the phone.

His phone buzzes.  MJ has sent a picture of Snowflake standing on his chair with his front paws on the table, staring fixedly at Ned’s laptop while the kid works.  It’s the signal that they know the restaurant and Jones is in position.

“What’s up?” Rafa asks.

“A little editorial oversight,” Eddie jokes, showing him the pic.

Rafa laughs.  “I better watch out, or Snowflake will take my job!”

They get to the restaurant, they sit, they order.

It goes like a decent date.

Then Rafa asks what he’s been working on.

There’s his way in.

“So, there’s these businesses—two I know for sure, maybe one more—that are definitely dirty.  Like, laundering money for somebody.  Potentially providing muscle, mob-style.  Fat Man Gym, which is closed for renovations, and Fat Man Auto Repair, which declared bankruptcy a couple years back.  Now, the auto place got raided by Ronin during the Blip, which is how it ended up on my radar.  Did some digging, and it’s owned by some, uh, whattayacallit, shell company.  Sloan Limited?  They also own a moving company called Trust a Bro, and one of their trucks was spotted at my apartment fire, and again during a big chase with Hawkeye.  Too stinky to be coincidence, y’know?  Two crooked businesses, another publicly fighting an Avenger?  I think we need to find out who’s behind Sloan.  Have you ever heard of the Tracksuit Mafia?”

MJ texts again.  This time, it’s a picture of her pressing one of Snowflake’s paws to extend his claws, and the caption ‘Dangerfuff McMurdermittens.’  The sign that Matt can hear Rafa getting nervous and it’s time to press.  He grins at the photo.

“Anyway!  So there’s talk of this gang that all wear matching tracksuits, and they definitely do enforcement for someone.  Ronin bashed his way through these guys, too.  Now, I couldn’t help but notice the employees at Trust a Bro all wear matching tracksuits…”  He spreads his hands like the whole thing is axiomatic.

“You’re aware you sound like MJ right now?  You’re not gonna start talking about 5G mind control, or reptilian overlords, or brain-butterflies, are you?”

The last two are real.

“Brain…butterflies?” says Eddie.

“Yeah, insect-like aliens that burrow into your skull and control your brain.  Folks who believe in those also believe Batman’s real.”

“What?  Why would we need Batman?”

“I’m just saying, that’s the popular—”

“We already got the Avengers for big stuff, or that Spider-Guy for more local stuff.  Or Daredevil, over where I live.  You know, one time, he saved me from getting mugged when I was walkin’ home drunk as a skunk?”

“Really?” says Rafa.  He looks like he’s trying to pretend he’s impressed, but Eddie has mastered the art of identifying intense annoyance in his conversation partners.  Another pressure point?

“Oh my God, Rafa, when I tell you this man’s ass is nice enough to one hundred percent reawaken anybody’s attraction to men…”  Eddie makes demonstrative squeezing gestures with both hands.  “Like, I know if my dumb drunk self had tried anything, he woulda punched my jaw outta alignment, but that kinda works for me, y’know?”

“Why are we talking about some psycho vigilante’s ass in the middle of our date?”

Bingo.

Eddie blinks innocently.  “I’unno, you’re the one who mentioned Batman.  Don’t tell me you feel threatened by a little celebrity crush…”

Rafa turns and signals a server.  “Can we get the check, please?”

“Oh, wow.  Okay,” Eddie says with a little chuckle.  “Duly noted.  Well, we had some fun, at least.”

“You’re breaking up with me over one bad date?”

Along his spine, Eddie feels Venom’s hackles rise.  Yeah, red flags multiplying.

“We’re not exactly ‘going steady,’ Rafael,” he points out.  “We been on two-and-a-half dates if you count lunch and the musical separately, and we had some above-average sex.  And I’m breaking up with you—if that’s what you wanna call it—over my trauma telling me I’m seeing some important red flags that I associate with getting slapped around.  Back on the professional side of things:  I know in my gut that Trust a Bro is a goldmine.  There’s this guy with a thin beard, and hair down to here-ish, and some kinda neck tattoo, walking and talking like he’s the hot shit.  I’m gonna see what I can dig up.”

Rafael slips some cash onto the check tray with a sigh.  “You’re right; I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean for my insecurities to make you uncomfortable.  You’re still recovering, and you hoped I could help with that, and instead I was a jerk.  Let me make it up to you.”

Jones puts a hand on the table between them.  “Hey, creepy, put it in reverse and back allll the way up.”

“Jess?” Eddie exclaims like they’re old friends.  “Holy shit, it’s been ages!  How are you?”

She smiles at him.  “Better than you, with this textbook narcissist trying to groom you.  Let’s get outta here.  I’ll even buy you a coffee and commiserate like a good wing-woman.”

“Excuse me,” says Rafa, puffing up.  “You can’t just—”

“Take away your potential victim?” counters Jones.  “Watch me, Fifty-Shades.”

“Now, now, let’s not—”

“Make a scene?  Oh, but I love scenes.  Selfish dicks like you rely on the threat of humiliation to keep your pets from ‘making scenes’ so nobody has a clue what you’re really like.”  She turns to the rest of the dining room and claps her hands.  (Eddie groans and hides his face as people turn to look, because she’s absolutely correct about the humiliation thing.)  “Hey, everybody, this hot Latino is actually a predator who picks up victims of domestic abuse and pretends to save them while he slowly turns them into his own victims.”

All but unnoticed, Eddie’s phone buzzes and shows him a pic of Snowflake curled up on Ned’s napping face, followed by three tombstone emojis.  Matt’s told them Rafa is on the verge of violence.

“I’m an upstanding member of the press,” Rafa says through clenched teeth.  “A pillar of the community.”

“And a whole bunch of Catholic priests molest little boys,” Jones counters.

“You’re going to regret playing with my reputation,” says Rafa.

She snarls and bites the air next to his face, making him flinch back.  “Pussy,” she scoffs.

“Oh my god, Jess, I gotta work with this guy,” Eddie points out, still shading one side of his face with his hand.

“All the more reason to make sure he knows there’ll be consequences if anything should happen to you,” she purrs, grabbing Rafa’s butter knife and effortlessly bending it into a heart while making heavy eye contact.  “I’ll be watching, chicken-shit.”

And she waits for Eddie to leave first.

“I make great bait, it’s a character flaw,” Eddie mutters as he waits for Jones to join him outside.  “Now he’s got no incentive to protect me and every reason to want revenge.  Any time now, he’ll tattle on me to K or Ivan or the Fat Man himself.”

“Come on,” says Jones.  “Danny’s favorite coffee place is just a block over, full of hipsters and entrepreneurs and probably a rich white boy who can punch holes in a tank.”

“We gonna need one of those?”

“Nah, but it’s as good a place to wait as any.  Murdock or the kids will let us know when it’s time for the next step.”

Eddie puts an earbud in so he can talk to Venom without looking completely bonkers.  “Thanks for stepping in, even though V had me covered.”

Always, my Eddie.

“You didn’t need your last abuser protecting you from your next one,” she grunts.

Venom wriggles with discomfort (or self-consciousness…though that would be a first), squeezing Eddie’s stomach a little and making him belch.

“Oof, ‘scuse me…  Who, uh…who told you about…”

“You’re real fuckin’ obvious, Brock.  But I was also eavesdropping at the restaurant.”

“V could feel him gearing up for something,” he notes.

He wanted to hurt you.  Could smell it.  He thought he owned you.

Eddie feels sick.

“You’re looking a little green.  Let’s change the subject:  tell me more about that giant cat.”

So he tells her the full tale of Snowflake’s adoption, when he was in the deepest throes of his depression.  He tells her how that’s what convinced Mrs. DiPazzi that he was a good person (who needed an adoptive granny to fuss and feed him).  He tells her how Snowflake can ingratiate himself with anyone, how he’s an excellent judge of character, how he likes walks and car rides.

They get a pair of coffees (black for her, foamy cold brew mocha for him) and settle by the window.  She scrolls through his Instagram and its treasure trove of cat videos.

Eddie’s phone rings.

And only one person would have had access to his phone and the idiocy to use that access for something so immature.  “You been back less than a day, you’re already poking around in my damn phone?!” he hisses under his breath.

Incoming Call From Dat Ass

“Who, me?”

“Yes, you, asshole!”  Eddie hurriedly accepts the call.  “Hey, babe, what’s up?”

~“Wow.  Sorry, just, I love hearing your voice… He’s arranged a meet with K—short for Kazi, by the way—dangling the fact that you know him by sight.  It’ll be worth recording the meet, but even better if we can also get photographic evidence of an attempted attack or an extortion.  Play dumb for now, but make sure you give plenty of openings after the next signal.  Tell Jess to have her camera ready.”~

“Got it.  Be safe.”

~“Look who you’re talking to.”~

“Very funny.  Love you, bye.”  And he hangs up at exactly the same time that he realizes what he’s just said.

“Your face is so red!” Jones says with a shit-eating grin.

what is HAPPENING

Shut up.  Shut. UP.

He clears his throat.  “Rafa’s meeting K.  They got that covered, but I’m still playing bait.  When we get the signal, we gotta split up so that you can be ready with your camera.  And bear in mind, me ‘n V are a lot harder to kill than a regular human—maybe don’t intervene unless we tell you.”

“You sure?  On a scale of Murdock—who would die to a gunshot but can dodge bullets—to my sometimes-boyfriend—who can literally bounce bullets off his skin—where would you fall?”

“Uhhh…bullets hurt, but we can fix it?  Somewhere in that whole middle region.  But fire is a no-go.”

“Eddie!  We can breathe water and regenerate but are vulnerable to fire, and we have a black cat.  We are a witch!” Venom concludes with a disproportionate amount of pride.

“We’re not a witch—you hate magic.”

“Oh.  Hm.”

Jones eyes him.  “So…healy but not fireproof?  Like a troll?”

“What?”

“Y’know, D&D.  My friend is really into it, and I’ve kinda accidentally absorbed some of her knowledge.  Apparently, there’s a lot of hot celebrity guys who play.  And the trolls in it are really sturdy and regenerate, but they’re weak to fire.”

Eddie can’t quite figure out where his life went wrong enough to land him in this conversation.  “That’s some nerd-ass shit, right there.”

“Perhaps the guy whose self-image is currently hinged on the opinion of a blind man shouldn’t be so judgy about what people like,” Venom has the balls to point out.

“I am this close to letting him blast you outta me and stick you in a jar.”

MJ sends a picture of Snowflake stalking a catnip mouse.

“That’s our cue.”  Eddie gets to his feet, and Jones follows suit.

“It was good to see you again.  Hey, I mean it about the skeevy bad date—you tell me if he tries anything.  And if he fucks with your job over it, I’ll go find his car and fold it up like origami.”

“Thanks, Jess.  You’re a good friend.  I’ll seeya around.”

He heads out at a sedate pace.

She is following very discreetly.  She’s almost as good as the one in your memories.

He acts like he’s just enjoying the fresh air after a shitty date.  He figures he’ll hail a cab in a block or so, get out about a block from Matt’s place, look like an easy target, get a snack somewhere.

Turns out not to need all that; a white Caddy pulls up beside him while he’s walking, hands in pockets (keys in one, recorder in the other like any half-decent nightcrawler).  He can see a broad silhouette in the back seat.

“Eddie Brock, reporter?” the driver asks.

���Who’s askin’, tough guy?”

“Mr. Fisk has a business proposition for you.  Get in.”

“Oh, gosh,” Eddie prevaricates with his most charming smile, turning on the recorder in his pocket.  “That’s real flattering, but I got a full-time position at a paper already.”

“At the Manhattan Word on the Street?” the guy scoffs.  “A rinky-dink little hipster rag.  Mr. Fisk can offer ten times what they’re paying.  A wise man would hear him out.”

“I’m good where I am.  I like the team, and I like small papers.”

“That kinda thing’s fine until something goes wrong.  Like how your apartment burned down last week.  Damn shame.”

“I got that covered, thanks.”

“Staying with a minor without her parent’s knowledge?”

“I’m packing tonight to move somewhere else tomorrow.”

“Sometimes terrible things happen.  Mr. Fisk is a man with a lotta connections; he can make a lotta things easier.  And hey, what happens if your editor starts harassing you?  Doesn’t seem like a guy who takes no for an answer.  Word is, you and a friend made a public scene, and he wasn’t about it.”

Eddie squirms.  “And Fisk, he can do something about that?”

“Maybe.  If you’re working for Mr. Fisk, you don’t gotta worry about that creep no more.  So.  Get in the car.”

“Ah—I dunno, man.  My mom always told me not to get in cars with strangers.”

“I insist,” says the driver, casually resting his hand on a clumsily concealed pistol in his jacket.

If this Jones is anywhere near the caliber of the one in his universe, she’s got a gorgeous shot on a silver platter.

“Oh,” Eddie says faintly.  “Well, since you insist.”

The hulking shape in the back is indeed Fisk, and Eddie finds himself shoulder-to-shoulder with the man.

“Good evening, Mr. Brock,” the Kingpin rumbles.  It’s like listening to a mountain talk.  If a mountain wore good overpriced suits with bad overpriced tropical shirts.

“Oh.  Um.  You, uh, must be…”

“Wilson Fisk.  I’m a great supporter of independent journalism—a patron of the arts, you might say.”

Eddie fidgets.  Venom is slithering around his spine in a worrying way, and he tries to send stern feelings at the symbiote.

Don’t fuck this up with your temper or your possessive bullshit, he thinks as loudly as he can.  We’re bait.  Our job is to look harmless and maybe get our ass kicked.

Kingpin smiles.  “To be very blunt, Rafael asked me to…repay you for the embarrassment he suffered a few hours ago.”

“Oh.”

“I don’t think Rafael truly understands romantic love.  He seems to have approached the matter with limited patience and compassion…very disappointing.  Have you ever been in love, Mr. Brock?”

Eddie swallows.  “Coupla false alarms,” he says, thinking of Anne and Venom.  “But, uh, yeah.  Yeah, I think I’m in love with somebody.  The way your driver talked to me, I think maybe I shouldn’t go into detail.”

“Don’t mind Seth,” Fisk reassures him (in a very insincere way).  “I take it one of the false alarms was the one who beat you.”

“H-how’d you…yeah,” Eddie says quietly.

“Anyone—especially an artist—who suffered such a betrayal would necessarily be cautious in matters of the heart.  Rafael has a disappointing lack of empathy for trauma, it would seem.  I understand your pain, Mr. Brock.  No matter how close the friendship between myself and Rafael, I could never bring myself to punish you for protecting yourself.”

“S-so, you’re not gonna…like, bust my kneecaps or get me fired or something?”

The crook’s face of sad compassion is almost as disturbing as the reassurances.  “Such measures would be beyond repugnant.  If we can build a mutually beneficial relationship, it would never even cross my mind.”

“Wait, w-whattaya mean by ‘mutually beneficial’?”

“I’m a powerful, prominent figure, Mr. Brock.  A man in my position requires the utmost discretion from the press, especially with a history of so many little misunderstandings.  It’s so easy to twist good deeds to appear malicious, I find.  Rafael is, as aforementioned, somewhat lacking in subtlety.  You could fill a niche in my ecosystem, Mr. Brock.  And if you join my little family, any trouble with Rafael would of course be a thing of the past.”

Venom bubbles and writhes somewhere in the vicinity of Eddie’s appendix.

BAD GUY

I know, STOP IT.

“So…I don’t gotta kill anybody, or shake anybody down,” Eddie draws out, doing his best doe-eyed airhead impression.  “I just neglect to follow some leads, put a positive slant on stuff other papers use for smear, that kinda thing, and you’ll make sure Rafa doesn’t, like, wait for me in the parking lot with a baseball bat?”

“You’re a smart man, Mr. Brock,” Kingpin says with what’s probably supposed to be a fatherly smile.  “I have your number; for now, just wait to be contacted.  If no one calls you, just write your pieces like it’s business as usual.”

“Wow, thank you so much, Mr. Fisk, sir!”  He grabs Kingpin’s hand and starts shaking it enthusiastically.

The big man’s grip gets very, very tight.

“Ah—that’s a, uh, pretty strong grip, uh—”

“I trust you’ll remember how polite this conversation was, and that family don’t betray one another.”

“Oh—y-yes, sir, Mr. F—ow—Fisk.”

“Take care, Eddie.  And give my regards to young Michelle and her…scrappy little amateur detective friends.”

He DARES threaten MJ?  I will chew him like a gummy candy animal!

“I will, sir, thanks again.”

He scrambles out of the car and keeps taking the path he’d been on before.

I WANT TO SPREAD HIS BRAINS ON A BAGEL!

“Gross,” Eddie mumbles as he watches the Caddy pull into traffic.  He switches off his recorder as he walks.  His phone rings.

Eddie grimaces but immediately answers.  “Eddie Brock speaking.”

Incoming Call From ID Blocked

~“Just checking, Mr. Brock,”~ the Kingpin rumbles at him.

“Oh, Mr. Fisk!  Should—how does this work?  Are you always gonna call me on this number, or should I just answer any unknown caller?”

~“I generally won’t be the one to call you, Mr. Brock.  Be ready to trust strangers who give you the following passphrase:  better the devil you know.”~

“I like it—literary, political, catchy…”

~“Goodbye, Mr. Brock.”~

Fisk hangs up on him, so he hails a cab.  They already know about MJ’s place; he might as well stick to the narrative.

~*~*~

They add a transcript of the recording to the Board.  Twenty minutes later, Jones shows up with some amazing photos of Kingpin’s driver clearly threatening Eddie, and Eddie subsequently getting into the car.

It only takes Ned thirty minutes to get a facial match on the driver, and then they add a mugshot to the Board.

Eddie’s phone rings just as Jones and Ned are heading home for the night.

“Hey, babe,” he says as he heads to the guest room.

Incoming Call From Dat Ass

Matt makes a sulky groan.  ~“I miss you already.  My awesome bed is shaped wrong without my awesome human pillow.”~

“Spoiled,” Eddie accuses with a grin.  “We had some moderate success on our side tonight; how’d Team Red do?”

~“Well, I can’t exactly judge for myself, but I’m told Peter is an excellent photographer, and he says he got some gorgeous shots.  Foggy called—he wants to have lunch with you, which really means he wants to make sure you’re good enough for me even though he should probably be warning you of my laundry list of personality flaws.  I can tell him I’m a big boy till I’m blue in the face, but he’ll insist people can and will take advantage of me.”~

“Nah, it’s fine.  Totally understandable.  I know firsthand you’re far from helpless, but even I kinda wanna put you on a nice, safe shelf somewhere.  It’s that face of yours, baby—people just naturally wanna take care of you.  Honestly, I think you ‘n me are gonna be a damn trash fire for the first month or so of cohabitation, but you are so fuckin’ worth it.”

~“…yeah?”~ Matt asks, sounding coy again.

“Abso-fucking-lutely.”

~“Has V told you what that note said?”~

“All he said was that it’s super-romantic and I’m being wooed—wooed, he literally used that word.”

Matt chuckles at him.  ~“Go find a Braille alphabet online somewhere and translate it.  Get some sleep.”~

“Yeah.  G’night.”

Peter can read Braille, Venom says loftily.

Eddie ignores him and hangs up the call.

  .End.

#fanfic #CANON DIVERGENCE #Venom liked the MCU so I let him stay as a treat #Matt/Eddie #rarepair #fandom: MCU #fic series: glitter (venom MCU)