#SO much work for such a small fandom good lord

[shinesurge]

this starship has potentially infinite space,

Recently user Inchoatl finished a really cool Kidd Commander fic where they wrote 100 words for every prompt on a list of 100, every single day straight in a row. They've written some excellent fic for KC in the past and always have such fun insights about the characters, it was such a treat getting to read a little bit about someone new every day!! One of my favorites was number 67, which I wanted to draw immediately but y'all know how it goes. ANYWAY: go read it, my god.

[dimesdimesdimess]

CONFESSION

Father Charlie Mayhew x Reader

Warnings: fingering, masturbation, dirty talk, swearing, innocent reader, lustful priest.

Readers Notes: Hello! This is my first time writing for this fandom. But it’s also been awhile since I’ve written anything. So the smut may not be great since I’m a little rusty. But if you enjoy it I may write another part. We’ll see. Enjoy! Possible spelling errors, not proof read.

part two

Every Thursday you made your way to the church for confession, confessing to the sins you committed for that week. Most of the time they are little things like swearing, or being a bit selfish and using the lord’s name in vain. Things that make Father Charlie laugh to himself because these weren’t really sinful to him and you were one of the few people that actually came every week. It always made him curious about you and liked when you came even if he didn’t feel it necessary. So every Thursday he listened, absolved you of your sins and made you say your hail marys. You always felt so much better after seeing Father Charlie. He wasn’t like some of the other priests, he was younger than them all, and had different ways about himself. You thought he was a bit strange at first and much too good looking to be a priest. You had to admit to yourself that sometimes you were coming to church just to see him. Much like the other women.. You heard whispers of the other women and the young girls talking about how handsome he was and every now and then one of them would try to flirt with him. He’d just smile at them as if he had no clue. 

You weren’t any different from these women. You also felt the urge to flirt with him, but he was a priest and that would be sinful. But that didn’t stop the thoughts that ran through your mind about him even outside of church. Sinful thoughts of him crossed your mind and you did your best to stop them even praying the thoughts away, but nothing worked. You couldn’t take the fact that God might send you to hell for having such thoughts. 

Thursday was rolling back around and one thing you thought could help and make you feel less of a sinful person was confession. Maybe if you confessed about the sin you’ve been committing that you’d be absolved and it would stop. But you couldn’t tell him the thoughts were about him, so you’d have to make up a story. As soon as you could you rushed over to the church and headed inside, there he was waiting by the confessional booth, he was expecting you. You lightly dip your fingers into the holy water and sign the cross before you quickly walk over to him.

Father Charlie smiled. “Ah, there you are, Y/N. Right on time. 

You were out of breath because you literally ran over. You smiled nervously at him as you caught your breath, those sinful thoughts creeping into your mind as you stared up at him. “Hello father.” you murmured.

He raised an eyebrow at you. “Everything alright?” 

You nodded. “Mhm, just ready to give my weekly confession.” you mumbled. 

He chuckles softly. “Alright. Let’s get started.” he opens the door on his side of the booth and he steps inside. You nervously open the door to your side and step inside, sitting down as your hands sit in your lap and you nervously rubbing them together. There's a small light in the confession booth, it was just bright enough that it wasn’t completely pitch black. 

There was silence for a moment and then you started to speak softly. 

“Bless me father, for I have sinned. It’s been a week since my last confession.” you say softly. 

There’s another silence. You nervously rubbed your hands together, unsure of how to confess your sin. 

“Y/N?” Father Charlie says softly. 

You clear your throat. “Sorry, father.” you mumble. 

You sigh softly as you go down the list of your confesses, which was the usual, swearing and using the lord's name in vain. Which Father Charlie expected and made him a smile a bit to himself.

“Anything else, Y/N?” he asks. 

You let out another sigh. 

“Y-Yes.. I’ve.. I’ve been having some thoughts..” you murmur. 

Father Charlie’s interest now peeked. “What thoughts, my child?” he responds. 

“Um.. sinful.. Dirty thoughts…” You pause. “About a man..” you whisper. 

There’s practically a smirk on Father Charlie’s face. This was new for you and unexpected. Now he was more interested in this than ever. 

“What are these thoughts? Is this a man you know? Someone you’re seeing?” he questions. 

You shake your head. “No.. I’m not seeing him.. I just.. He’s just someone I know. Everyday I have the most impure thoughts about him.. And his body and things I’d like him to do to me. It’s terrible, father. Just terrible. I can’t seem to get these thoughts out of my mind. I tried to pray to make it stop. But they just won’t.. I don’t know what else to do, father.” 

Father Charlie sinks his teeth into his bottom lip as he listens to you and then his tongue runs over them as he clears his throat. Such an innocent woman like you having impure thoughts like this made him feel a way. He wanted to help. He wanted to help ease these feelings and thoughts you’ve been having in one way he knew how. 

“Well.. It’s perfectly normal to have such thoughts if you feel something for this man. Sinful, maybe. But normal. You can’t avoid sexual feelings. There is something I know that may help with this, Y/N.” he says. 

You glance over through the separator. “There is? What is it we can do? Prayer? Penance? I’ll do anything to make this stop.” you pleaded. 

He chuckles lowly. “No.. None of that. This is something that I’ve been wanting to speak about. Something to bring the church into the future. Embracing sexual desires instead of condemning them or thinking of them as sinful.” he says. 

You furrow your brow, not understanding what he’s getting at. “What do you mean? Isn’t it a sin to have these thoughts if you’re not married?” you respond. 

“No. It’s human nature, now would you like me to help you?” he says quite coldly. 

You would do anything to make this feeling go away and stop lusting after your priest. “Yes father, please help.” you respond.

Just the very sound of that does something to him and he could feel his pants becoming tight at the very thought of what he was going to make you do. 

“Now I must say, what we do in here is confidential as you know. So, I can’t tell anyone and I’ll need you to promise you won’t speak of this with anyone.” he says, peering over at you through the separator. 

He had a seriousness in his voice and you glance over at him. Your eyes meeting in the dimness of the booth, still curious about how he was going to help you. “I promise I won’t tell anyone, father. Honest.” you say, nodding. 

“Good.. Then we can begin, Y/N. You’ll need to obey my every word. This is to help you, that’s all.” he proceeds to say. 

“I understand, father.” you chime in. 

“Good. Now.. Why don’t you start off by spreading your legs..” he hums.

You look over at him. “Father?” you question. 

“I told you, this is to help you. Now spread your legs..” he says demandingly. 

You swallow hard and do as you're told. He is the priest after all.. A holy vessel. What he’s asking must be what God wants. You slowly spread your legs open. The fabric of your dress lies against your thighs as it rides up just slightly as your legs are spread. Father Charlie peeks over and smirks to himself. “Wider.” he demands. 

You spread your legs open even further and now your dress rides up even further along your thighs. Father Charlie pleased with your obedience. “Good girl..” he hums. Now slowly lift the skirt of your dress up just above your thighs.” he whispers. 

Your eyes widened with innocence. You couldn’t believe this was happening and that this is what God wanted. “Now Y/N.” he hisses. 

You quickly lifted the skirt of your dress up just as he wanted and now your thighs and panties were completely exposed. He leans over and looks between the separator, the very sight of your white cotton panties causing the tightness in his pants to become worse than before that his bulge begging to be set free from their confinement. He tries to adjust himself. “Good..” he whispers. 

“Now tell me about these sinful dirty thoughts of yours, Y/N. While you do it.. I want you to touch yourself the way you wanted to be touched in these thoughts of yours.” he whispers, running a hand along his clothed hard on. 

You hesitate. “But father.. I..” he cuts you off before you could get another word out. 

“In order for this to work you need to be obedient. You need to act on these sinful thoughts and do as I say. Now do as I ordered or you will never be rid of this.” he says sharply. 

“Yes father.” you respond in a soft voice. You let out a soft exhale as your hands run over your thighs. “T-This man.. All I want is for him to run his hands along my body.. Touching me.. Teasing me.. Just the very thought of it has an ungodly feeling coming from between my legs.” you whisper.

Father Charlie tries to hold back the low groan that escapes him as he hears your words and his hand is now rubbing against his hard on. “Tell me more.. D-Does this ungodly feeling make you.. You feel wet?” he mutters.

Your eyes widen once again and you nod. “Yes.. Yes.. It’s terrible.. My.. My panties get wet and sometimes sticky against me.. I throb with.. with so much desire for y-.. For this man.. I can’t stand it.” You began to let out soft noises as you picture the father running his hands along your thighs, his head in between them, kissing up to your soaked pussy. Your mind is running wild with the thought.

 Father Charlie’s eyes roll back in desire as you describe it and now he can’t bear it anymore and he slowly undoes his pants and slides his hand in them to pull his cock out. It’s throbbing and hard, precum already dripping from the tip, he spits into his hand and wraps it around his pulsing cock. “Keep going.. T-tell me more..” he hums as he slowly pumps his cock in his hand.

The pitch of his voice sounded a bit different now, but you didn’t think much of it because you were being consumed with your fantasy of him. You run your hand along your panties and you could already feel them being soaked through and it makes a whimper escape you. The entire time Father Charlie is peeking through the holes of the separator as he pleasures himself. “Take ‘em off.. and keep talking..” he mumbles. You don’t hesitate to do as he says and hook your fingers between the hem of your panties and you slowly slide your panties off, your arousal stained on your panties and you gulp slowly. “Oh.. god..” Father Charlie mutters to himself.

“I.. I picture this man with his head between my legs.. He’s wanting to help with the throbbing.. and he.. he…” you stutter over your words. 

“What? What?! What does he do next?” Father Charlie says with an excitement in his voice as his begins to stroke his cock faster, his eyes fixated on your pussy under the dim light.

“He.. He runs his tongue.. along my pussy.. He’s licking up the mess I made in my panties.. Slurping up every last drop.. “ You run two fingers along your swollen throbbing clit and now you let out a loud moan, praying no one else was in the church. Father Charlie’s head leans against the separator as he breathes heavy, watching as you play with yourself and he spits some more on his cock, pumping his hand harder and faster. You continue with your thoughts. “Then he wraps my thighs around his shoulders and he’s buried between my thighs.. His tongue flicking against my clit and then shoving it inside of my pussy.. He’s moaning because I’m so tight around his tongue..” You let out another moan and now your fingers were so wet from your pussy that you slowly slip them inside your tight cunt, you could feel yourself tighten around your fingers and now your back was pressed against the wall of the booth and you’ve brought your legs up against the pew as your legs were spread wide open, completely on display for the father as you moan.

“F.. Fuck…” Father Charlie groans, his cock dripping in precum as he works his hand along the shaft, licking his lips as he watches you fuck yourself. “That’s it.. Good girl... Let those sinful thoughts take over.. G-Give into  your desire..” he mutters between his groans. 

You nodded obediently at his words, completely taken with your own thoughts, completely unaware that he’s getting off to you. Your eyes are shut tight as you shove your fingers deeper into your soaking pussy, the wet sounds echoing within the booth, your breathing heavy and out of control and without even thinking between your moans you say his name. “Oh, father… Yes… Charlie..” you cry out. 

Father Charlie catches this and smirks to himself as his cock pumps in his hand, having revealed that he was the man in your sinful thoughts, this only further provokes his desire and need. Giving him many ideas of how he could use you. He realizes that you haven’t realized what you said. You couldn’t care in this moment as the desire within you was building and soon coming to the surface, a feeling you had never felt before. You felt like you were going to explode. “Father.. I.. A strange feeling is coming over.. over.. me.” You say with a shaky breath. 

“Let it… Let it take over, my child.. Let it out..” he moaned, he was not going to last a minute longer but he wanted to cum when you did.. He wanted to watch you orgasm. Your head is tilted against the wall and your legs trembling and soon your whole body and without realizing it your moans soon turn into loud cries of pleasure as you soon reach your orgasm, cum leaking out of your pussy and onto your fingers and the pew as your body convulses. “Fuck.. yes.. “ Father Charlie mumbles as he reaches his orgasm and he grunts and groans lowly as spurts of his warm cum shoot out of his cock onto the wall of the booth and some of it gets on his suit. “Christ..” he grumbles. 

You whimper softly as you slowly slip your fingers out of your dripping pussy and you’re trying to understand what just happened and what you just did in the church of all places. You look over at Father Charlie though the separator, his head rested against it and he looks sweaty and is breathing hard. His eyes look up at you and now you’re staring at each other for a moment and you could sense what he was doing, but didn’t want to admit that you knew. He clears his throat as he lifts his head up and quickly puts his cock away and buttons his pants back up. You feel so confused now and embarrassed. 

“H..How.. How do you feel now? Thoughts gone?” Father Charlie mutters, fixing his hair.

You swallow nervously as you sit up and push the skirt of your dress back down quickly. “I.. I guess.. My head doesn’t feel as bad. I can think straight again..” you answer. 

He smiles. “Good.. Told you.. Nothing wrong with giving into your desires, Y/N.”

You nod. “And you’re sure this is right? I don’t want to go to hell for doing this in a holy place..” you say nervously. 

Father Charlie laughs. “You’re not going to hell. God wanted you to do this and wanted me to guide you. I think you may need a lot of my help and this should be something I work with you on a weekly basis. We can do it more privately in my office.”

“But father.. I don’t think..” he interrupts you, shaking his head.

“You need this.. Your thoughts are more sinful than I thought.” he says. 

You stay silent. This was all confusing to you, but you couldn’t lie, you did feel a whole lot better. Father Charlie begins to pray to absolve you of your sins. You bow your head and clasps your hands together, praying along with him before signing the cross. “Now go pray five hail marys and our father and I’ll see you next week in my office, Y/N.” he says before he gets up and heads out of the booth. You sit in your side of the booth, pondering what has just happened and then you realize in the heat of the moment what you had moaned out. His name. Was that the real reason why he wanted to continue this? Now the embarrassment really sunk in because now he would think you were just like the rest of the women in the church.. Lusting after him, which you were, but the last thing you wanted was for him to know that. But maybe that’s exactly what he wanted.. To be lusted after. 

Tagging: @nicholasachavez @smokeymountainboy @arianatheangel-girl @suraemoon @aliengoth3 @theycametoconquertheearth53 @suspiciousmindsxo

if you would like to be added to my taglist let me know!

[itgirldraco]

do you have any fic recs?

yes!! so many!! please check the tags for each!

all time favorites:

way down we go: an absolute classic. werewolf harry, chronically ill utterly miserable draco, post-war in small town america. enemies to lovers slowburn with protective harry and hopelessly gay draco.

in hopes that you may drown: SO much of my art is based on this author's harry and draco. such a lovely fic. post-war, draco raising delphi and absolutely perfecting the stressed yoga mom vibe. harry is instantly smitten.

in our blood: about haunted houses, parenthood and growing to care for each other. I love this one.

you'll still find stone: arranged marriage. draco expects the worst and harry is an absolute sweetheart. angst but so heartwarming. (mind the tags!!)

ANYTHING by corvetteclaire! their blood link and in the mirror series are severely underrated and genuinely took my breath away. some of my favorite writing and plots.

inside grey eyes: so so beautiful. quite dark and yet exceptionally hopeful. all about draco's recovery from a nightmare situation and harry's unending support. (mind the tags!!)

anything by tessa crowley!! an absolute gem in the fandom with an impressive variety of works.

the mirror of ecidyrue series: perfection.

in your arms, rests my world: “You make me feel safe, Potter. You keep me safe.” yeah..yeah. (mind the tags!!)

anything by toxik_angel tbh..one of my favorites is infairitance even though it’s incomplete; fairy draco is a game changer

oxytocin: angst, angst, angst, and so much cuddling. slowburn in the best way possible.

Soup-pocalypse and The Great Curry Cataclysm: i read this some time ago but i remember adoring it.

Diffraction Patterns (I Don't Know How to Forget You): another incredible old read .

everything by beloved @rockingrobin69 !! this is one my favorites ever i never stop thinking about it

fluff/humor:

manlet: PLEASE read this one! so so cute and adorable and hilarious ft sweet giant harry and tiny angry draco and wickedly funny narcissa. will definitely open your eyes to small draco.

screw you: extremely funny and extremely hot.

like a star across my sky: SUCH a good fic! feels like a romcom.

title of their sex tape: as funny as it sounds.

flirt: really sweet. disaster flirty draco and awkward yet charmed harry.

married to a brute (ongoing): genius and hilarious

smut:

it beats me black and blue: absolute perfection. no notes.

let me roll it: so delicious. clueless mess draco and grumpy harry who hates everyone except draco.

his little something: size difference excellence

scenes of surrender: a combination of smut, love, recovery and caretaking

a perfect fit: hung harry and size queen draco

come up for air: veela draco

fawning for you: harry is completely obsessed with draco's videos. very cute, muggle setting.

burning the ground: creature fic

ongoing/other faves:

one elephant at a time (ongoing): i recommend this fic to EVERYONE. genuinely incredible. think yellow wallpaper, jane eyre, crush by richard siken, and the author mentions being inspired by my dark vanessa as well. so essentially a modern romance with a dark gothic backstory. every single sentence in this fic stands out to me. every characterization, every conversation, is just so honest and genuine. also!! draco has a cat called lady di!! and he loves to wear earrings! (mind the tags!!)

within the hollow crown: more of pre-drarry tbh. such an interesting plot!! harry grudgingly cares for an increasingly spiraling draco who is except under close and constant watch by the dark lord-every second of his sixth year. currently has an ongoing sequel.

imperfection (ongoing): another fic by robin! and another of my all time favorites, so so lovingly written and so tragic and lovely and heartbreaking. really digs into draco's psych and his manic mindset and constant spiral BUT there is light at the end of the tunnel and so much love surrounding him even though it's hard for him to see it. (mind the tags!!)

saviour series (ongoing): wouldn't necessarily call this drarry? more of a stockholm syndrome gothic novel type of fic but i recommend it all the same. the writing is truly extraordinary and the pacing is incredible. will leave you breathless. part one is complete. (mind the tags!!)

perspective series (ongoing): the original books with alpha harry, omega draco in gryffindor, and an adorable friendship dynamic between the golden trio and draco. really sweet, and super interesting. no romance as of yet but there are little moments.

tales of the potters: very interesting take on the arranged marriage trope! i recommend all of this author's works; they have a gorgeous way with words and their work really brings harry and draco to life.

the veiled boy (ongoing): one of the most intriguing recent fics i've read. really delves into character dynamics in such a realistic and refreshing way and draco is so endearing in it. every chapter has gorgeous illustrations.

never in extremity: reread this one recently. equal parts heartbreaking and heartwarming. (mind the tags!!)

[evilminji]

Not my usual Fandom BUT...

You know what would be and always is fascinating/interesting/hilarious? For want of a nail type, "tiny change or little action spiral into great and sweeping change" type fics! ESPECIALLY when combined with my dearly beloved Self Insert troupe!

Because? I DO so love the Self Insert! Not so much for the "I can fix it" or power fantasy, as the ability to wander... a stranger in a strange land. Both familiar yet removed. Known to us yet... not. The major actors, major events, certainly. But the lives of the average person?

The noodle shop owner? The ship salesman? A janitor?

We know nothing about this strange new world from their point of view. What secrets can be found in this or that little shop, well off the common path. And it is FASCINATING! Especially if the Insert wasn't particularly FAMILIAR with the source material. Knew enough to get by, perhaps, too know they are in danger... but not enough to twist events to their favor. Assuming they even had the type of personality to TRY such things.

No, no...

What I? Want to see?

What I think would be FASCINATING?

Is a TRUE carry over. Adult mind to adult mind. Someone settled in their ways. Not bold and terribly adventurous, not willing to recklessly seek out danger and pain. No. They know they are going to die. They know they HAVE died. They are now a Jedi. And can feel the Force... and?

It just... helps.

They let go. Yes, perhaps some plans to protect the younglings. If they can. But their ultimately IS no death, only the Force. It is scary, they acknowledge, frightening even. But they... find calm. Acceptance.

They meditate. Open themselves up to the Force and give up their worry and fears, their regrets. All the terrible burdens they brought with them from their past life. It's honestly a bittersweet sort of relief. Ironic, that such a troubled age should be their most peaceful.

Of course... opening yourself up like that? Reaching out so deeply and with such conviction? It's like painting a "hey! I'm right here! I'm definitely going to listen if you say something to me!" Sign on your forehead, where the Force can see it.

So? It DOES.

But unlike Anikin? The Insert isn't a Fighter. So the Force doesn't tell them to fight. After all, every part has its place in the grand machine of Life. Every actor their place on the stage. Sometimes? To change the galaxy? All you need is someone to be on the right planet, at the right time, ready to hold a door open for the right person.

And that's it.

Not everything needs be grand sweeping actions. It can, instead, be the quiet drip drip drip of medicine applied behind a Sith Lord's back. To undo the damage he has wrought. So when comes the time for his plans to unfold? He does NOT find the support he was counting on to succeed. Instead he finds resistance.

But HOW? How would such a thing be DONE? By a YOUNGLING no less?

A youth with no power? Be it social, political, or physical? AND beneath the Sith Lord's very nose? Without being STOPPED? With said youngling being KILLED? Quite simply! Easily, in fact! By embracing the purest of the Light!

Fun.

Who among us, does NOT know of the parasocial relationship? The feeling of knowing someone, considering them "good" and "something like a friend" dispite never once having spoken to them? Being FOND of them? Wouldn't YOU not defend them? If someone sought to HURT them? KILL them? You KNOW them so very WELL don't you? This person speaks LIES about them!

And what of the Adorable Youngling? Small and Cute? Look at their little cheeks and tiny hands! How precious! Why, we have watched them GROW! They are practically family!

But where does the FUN I speak of come into this? Simple. The Holonet. Crechemaster's trying to corral an adult in the body of a child. The Insert is BORED. At peace, yes. But you can really only meditate so many hours of the day. Lessons only take up so much and class work the same. They aren't at an age where the SERIOUS lessons begin yet.

So they have too much free time.

..........have you heard about "Video Game #55? It's apparently got more Video AND Game then ever!" Intriguing~ But, oh. Playing it ALONE it BORING. And playing with... well, INFANTS, is... an exercise in patience. Plus it's probably not appropriate for them. Hmmmmm..... you KNOW.... Insert really DOES miss? Watching Let's Plays over breakfast/lunch...

They've never MADE one... but they know they general script and idea? And for Some Reason? It feels like a GREAT way to pass the time! Yeah! Let's do THAT! And so the Force nudges. Tiny. Seemingly inconsequential. The Master's try to shut it down, Insert is stubborn and refuses, they talk it out. Because they are Jedi and authoritarian force is not their way. Is it frustrating? Perhaps. But the only cure for ignorance is knowledge.

They ultimately compromise. Insert get to keep their little game thing, THEY make sure Insert is compromising Temple security, putting themselves in danger, talking to dubious strangers, or other such perils. It is? A FASCINATING view into the secretive world of the Mysterious Jedi for most of the galaxy. All lead by an adorable Youngling playing games.

Of course, such a silly, ridiculous thing is BENEATH Palpatine's concern. Fun and games? Not even formal or official ones? The child doesn't even represent the jedi. They represent no one. Clearly not a threat, right?

WRONG.

Because one game? Leads to another. Leads to being recommended another. Leads to "hey check out this music". Leads to "how was your day?" Leads to chatting about Jedi philosophy... as simplified for small children. Easy to understand and then complained over like it's maths homework. And... huh.

You guys really liked when I talked about X? Well, I don't know much about it... buuut? I could probably FIND someone or go to the archives? Make a video? I'll make a poll. Vote down below?

Untouchable and distant? Nah. Jedi play "Crafting Game 73" and whine about their Crechemates being JERKS for eating the last dessert. Jedi, in their head's, are small adorable younglings and the amused adults meditating the back ground who watch over them. EVERYONE knows the Jedi. The Jedi are on our datapads. Are our friends. We've totally met them.

Parasocial relationships.

Or maybe that's just me? I just... God I REALLY want to see how they'd react to a initiate who just? Won't stop fuckin making Let's Plays of all things. Just? WHY. HOW? WHY AND HOW?! No, NO don't you shrug at me and run of, youngling! Get back here! What "skill issue"? Which skill? Initiate!!!

@hdgnj @hypewinter @babbling-babull @the-witchhunter @mutable-manifestation @lolottes @leftnotright @legitimatesatanspawn @nerdpoe @spidori

[jackoshadows]

Firstly, why is it that Sansa can only be praised by comparing her to Arya? Secondly, in what world is Arya physically strong and more than Sansa?!

The masculinization of Arya Stark by tradfems in fandom has become so commonplace that I suppose many of them imagine this is how Arya and Sansa are in the books:

In case folks don't know this: ARYA IS TWO YEARS YOUNGER THAN SANSA! She's the younger sibling!

Anyone who has read a Jon POV chapter should know that Arya is a skinny, little girl. Jon specifically makes a small, lightweight, thin sword for Arya to handle.

And Arya … he missed her even more than Robb, skinny little thing that she was, all scraped knees and tangled hair and torn clothes, so fierce and willful. - Jon, AGoT

Arya has been on the run for two years, hunted by Lannister men, a slave put to hard physical work and starved for food.

She spent the rest of that day scrubbing steps inside the Wailing Tower. By evenfall her hands were raw and bleeding and her arms so sore they trembled when she lugged the pail back to the cellar. Too tired even for food, Arya begged Weese's pardons and crawled into her straw to sleep. - Arya, ACoK

Often as not, she went to bed hungry rather than risk the stares. - Arya, AGoT

"Lommy's hungry," Hot Pie whined, "and I am too." "We're all hungry," said Arya. - Arya, ACoK

Arya watched them die and did nothing. What good did it do you to be brave? One of the women picked for questioning had tried to be brave, but she had died screaming like all the rest. There were no brave people on that march, only scared and hungry ones. - Ary, ACoK

I knew we should never have left the woods, she thought. They'd been so hungry, though, and the garden had been too much a temptation. - Arya, ASoS

"An inn?" The thought of hot food made Arya's belly rumble, but she didn't trust this Tom. - Arya, ASoS

Rabbits ran faster than cats, but they couldn't climb trees half so well. She whacked it with her stick and grabbed it by its ears, and Yoren stewed it with some mushrooms and wild onions. Arya was given a whole leg, since it was her rabbit. She shared it with Gendry. - Arya, ASoS

The biggest toms would seldom win, she noticed; oft as not, the prize went to some smaller, quicker animal, thin and mean and hungry. Like me, she told herself. - Cat of the Canals, AFfC

We have the contrast of Arya having to trade some carrots and cabbages they picked from an overgrown garden to get some food and the innkeeper complaining about the lack of lemons to the sumptuous 64 dish feast in the Vale with a 12 feet tall lemon cake made especially for Sansa.

Anguy shuffled his feet. "We were thinking we might eat it, Sharna. With lemons. If you had some." "Lemons. And where would we get lemons? Does this look like Dorne to you, you freckled fool? Why don't you hop out back to the lemon trees and pick us a bushel, and some nice olives and pomegranates too." She shook a finger at him. "Now, I suppose I could cook it with Lem's cloak, if you like, but not till it's hung for a few days. You'll eat rabbit, or you won't eat. Roast rabbit on a spit would be quickest, if you've got a hunger. Or might be you'd like it stewed, with ale and onions." Arya could almost taste the rabbit. "We have no coin, but we brought some carrots and cabbages we could trade you." - Arya, ASoS

Sixty-four dishes were served, in honor of the sixty-four competitors who had come so far to contest for silver wings before their lord. From the rivers and the lakes came pike and trout and salmon, from the seas crabs and cod and herring. Ducks there were, and capons, peacocks in their plumage and swans in almond milk. Suckling pigs were served up crackling with apples in their mouths, and three huge aurochs were roasted whole above firepits in the castle yard, since they were too big to get through the kitchen doors. Loaves of hot bread filled the trestle tables in Lord Nestor’s hall, and massive wheels of cheese were brought up from the vaults. The butter was fresh-churned, and there were leeks and carrots, roasted onions, beets, turnips, parsnips. And best of all, Lord Nestor’s cooks prepared a splendid subtlety, a lemon cake in the shape of the Giant’s Lance, twelve feet tall and adorned with an Eyrie made of sugar. For me, Alayne thought, as they wheeled it out. Sweetrobin loved lemon cakes too, but only after she told him that they were her favorites. The cake had required every lemon in the Vale, but Petyr had promised that he would send to Dorne for more. - Alayne, TWoW

Arya was already a little, skinny girl smaller than Sansa when they left Winterfell. She has been worked to the bone, sleeping rough and gone hungry. Again, by what logic is this Arya supposed to be physically strong and more than Sansa?!

There is this idea that's often pushed where Sansa is some dainty, fragile princess while Arya is this strong executioner henchwoman and it's just so tiresome and toxic.

Arya is also not Brienne! They are two different characters. If you want physically strong warrior types to compare to Sansa, there is already Brienne. Arya is the smaller, younger sister. In canon and logically, it's the taller, bigger, elder sister with access to good, rich food who would be physically stronger.

The Stark looking Starks tend to be slender and quicker compared to the bigger, stronger Tully looking Starks.

He was of an age with Robb, but they did not look alike. Jon was slender where Robb was muscular, dark where Robb was fair, graceful and quick where his half brother was strong and fast. - Bran, AGoT

The biggest toms would seldom win, she noticed; oft as not, the prize went to some smaller, quicker animal, thin and mean and hungry. Like me, she told herself. - Cat of the Canals, AFfC

"Can't you guess?" Jon teased. "Your very favorite thing." Arya seemed puzzled at first. Then it came to her. She was that quick. They said it together: "Needle!" - Jon, AGoT

Arya was always quick and clever, but in the end she's just a little girl, and Roose Bolton is not the sort who would be careless with a prize of such great worth. - Jon, ADwD

This is one of the reasons for why Jon Snow is so protective of Arya Stark - he certainly doesn't see her as some physically strong warrior type, despite gifting her with a sword. He's scared for her because he knows that despite how clever she is, Ramsay can kill, rape and torture her - she's 'just a little girl'.

Arya deserves to be protected, same as Sansa. She is not there to be anyone's henchwoman, she does not have super strength and she is certainly not physically stronger than Sansa.

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Precious Truths: Part 6

Fandom: Bridgerton

Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x F!Reader

Summary: After your father finds out you’ve been writing under a male pseudonym, he threatens to marry you off to an atrocious man unless you find yourself a husband within a month’s time.

A/N: I will not be taking tags for this series!

Series Masterlist

Benedict follows you and Lord Montclair with a frown on his face. He seems to love to torture himself when he agreed to accompany Daphne as she chaperones your promenade with the marquess.

His eyes glance down to your arm hooked around the other man's and his brows furrow. Daphne looks up at her brother with a smirk, "Something the matter, brother?"

Benedict suddenly looks away clearing his throat, "No, no. Just, um, thinking about a piece I need to work on."

Daphne hums unconvinced, looking back at you and Lord Montclair, "They do make a handsome couple, do they not?"

"I suppose," Benedict replies as he casts his eyes down, paying more attention to the path rather than you and the marquess.

"Are you upset with me?" Daphne asks, pulling her arm away from her brother's and stopping to look at him.

Benedict looks at her with confusion, "Should I be?"

She purses her lips, "Well, I was the one who introduced the marquess to Y/N and considering your feelings-"

"Please, Daphne, I already endure this from Anthony and Kate. I do not wish to hear more of it from you," he takes a quick glance your way as the distance grows wider between you and he, "I may love her, but I cannot give her what she desires. He can," he nods to Lord Montclair.

Daphne sighs, hooking her arm around her brother's once more, "Regardless, I cannot imagine this being easy for you."

The second eldest Bridgerton sighs, "'Tis not. Hopefully, with time, it will be."

_____________________________

You hide your laughter behind your fan as you walk the path with Lord Montclair. He relays a memory he had of when he was a boy. How he tried to capture a frog and in his attempts, it jumped on his face, causing him to fall into a lake.

"That reminds me of when I was a child. I was probably two and ten years old. Be-I mean Mister Bridgerton and myself decided to sneak away onto a row boat. We had seen a fish into the lake and leaned over the edge too much. We both fell in. Our mamas were so upset with us, but we had a good laugh," you state with a giggle.

Lord Montclair chuckles, "So you have known the Bridgertons for a while?"

You nod, "Almost my entire life. They are like my second family."

"And you are the closest with the second eldest, Benedict?" the marquess asks with intrigue as he guides you to a bench for some rest.

You nod, following him to sit, "Yes. He is my dearest of friends."

Lord Montclair clears his throat, leaning closer to you, "I do not want to seem too forward, Miss L/N, but I think I have made my interest quite clear. Is it safe for me to assume that there are no romantic feelings between you and Mr. Bridgerton considering," he gestures between you and him.

You cast your eyes towards Benedict, who is now entertaining two women in conversation while Daphne speaks with their mama. You feel a twinge of jealousy as the women laugh with Benedict. No. You shouldn't feel this way. He is not yours. He never will be.

You turn back to Lord Montclair and give him a small smile, "I can assure you, my Lord, there is nothing between Mister Bridgerton and myself except for friendship."

Happy with your response, Lord Montclair changes the subject and shares another story of his youth. You nod, smile, and laugh at the appropriate times, occasionally glancing back at Benedict. Every once in a while, your eyes will meet and then look away. Your heart strings tug a little more with each wavering gaze.

It seems you like to torture yourself since you cannot help but keep your eyes away from Benedict entertaining women that wasn't you.

_______________

After your promenade and lunch with Lord Montclair and the Bridgertons, you arrive home to see your father waiting for you.

His eyes were glossy and his body slightly swaying, signifying that he was already drunk once more.

"I heard a marquess is courting you," he practically mumbles out.

"Yes, papa. I am certain he will propose before the end of the month," you respond plainly, no emotion and no love for the man who you are now unfortunate to call your father.

He hums, "And does he know of your...hobbies?"

"He only knows I enjoy reading poetry, not writing it."

"Good. A man does not want a woman who is too well-read."

You bite your tongue, not wanting to suffer from a potential strike to your face like previously, "Of course, papa." You dryly reply and head to your room.

You proceed to isolate yourself for the rest of the day. Although Lord Montclair is exactly the man many women would kill to have court them, you still cannot find yourself to fall for him completely. You don't think you ever could. You've lived a majority of your life loving Benedict Bridgerton, you aren't sure how else to live. Even if Benedict could never love you back, you will still continue to hold him dear in the depths of your heart for you and only you to know.

You didn't lie to your father that you are sure Lord Montclair will propose soon. He had spoke of marriage, children, just your potential future in general. Both of your desires and goals line up perfectly with one another and you are certain he sees it to.

Now only to mentally prepare yourself for the inevitable.

________________

Benedict's heart drops to his stomach when he hears the news from Daphne: Lord Montclair plans to propose to you soon.

Obviously, he knew it was bound to happen. Of course he would propose to you. You, perfect, beautiful, intelligent, cunning, funny, wonderful you.

It was inevitable and it was becoming even more real that Benedict would lose you forever.

It was then that Benedict decided to drown himself in his art. Go to parties, brothels, bars, whatever he can as much as possible to forget the pain in his heart.

If only he wasn't so stubborn and truly listen to his heart and his family. He could be with you and give you everything you want and deserve.

But alas, he was just too blind and hard headed to see it.

Lady Whistledown, however, made it well known to the Ton of how she as well as a majority of Mayfair, expected him and you to marry.

__________________

Two weeks. It took two weeks of courting until Lord Montclair asked your father's permission to marry you. It was an easy "yes" from him, obviously. With the status of being the marquess and willing to pay well over your dowery, well, how can your father refuse?

Even though you were expecting it, you still felt hesitant. Your aunt joined you in the sitting room, watching as Lord Montclair, James, as you learned his name was, knelt down and presented his mother's beautiful ring.

"Mon cher, you have made me so incredibly happy these past few weeks. I think we can have an amazing future together. Will you do the honor of marrying me?"

You know you should say yes. But your mind immediately goes to Benedict. Your best friend, your first love, the man you saw yourself marrying and growing old with. But he didn't feel the same. If he did, he would've courted and proposed to you by now.

It was officially time to let go of your silly fantasies and face reality.

"Yes, of course," you reply breathlessly and James slips the ring onto your finger.

Aunt Eliza lets out a breath of relief, "I am so incredibly happy for you two! I plan to hold a ball in your honor at the end of the week, so be prepared for the fan fair that will be headed your way."

James takes your hand and kisses it, "I shall go. I must begin contacting my family so they can be here for the wedding."

"Of course, my Lord."

James smiles at you sweetly, "You may call me James now, mon cher."

You return a sweet smile back, "Of course, James. Then you may call me Y/N."

"I will see you later, future Marchioness Montclair," he gives you a wink and heads out.

You look down at the ring, the diamond sparkling in the sun. Your aunt rushes to your side and kisses your temple, "You did it, dear. You did it. You will be free soon enough."

You gulp and nod at your aunt, "Yes. I will be free."

____________________

Dearest Gentle Reader,

It seems that wedding bells are to be heard soon with now the engagement of Miss Y/N L/N and the Most Honorable Marquess, Lord James Montclair. The marquess had turned many heads since his arrival with Duchess Bridgerton. Many ladies of the Ton had hoped for a courtship from him. However, it was quite the surprise that our very own Miss L/N, one who has previously rejected the idea of marriage, set her sights on the marquess and lured him with her charm.

As I am sure many of you are disappointed by the engagement, I am certain no one is as disappointed as the second eldest Bridgerton son, Benedict Bridgerton. For we all knew those two were always at each other's side. This author thinks that perhaps the second eldest never proposed to Miss L/N because he knew he could never provide for her as a second son.

Nevertheless, I do look forward to see how Miss L/N will take to the role of marchioness. Will she crack under pressure or will it be smooth sailing? This author waits in anticipation.

Benedict crumples up Lady Whistledown's newest edition, tossing it across the room. His family's eyes are all on him.

His heart rate quickens, he feels a sweat coming on. The walls are closing in and he can't breathe. He doesn't like how his family looks at him with pity. They all know now. They know how he feels for you. There is a chance know how he feels for you now. A part of him hopes that you don't believe what Whistledown has to say. Not everything she says is always factual. Nevertheless, it makes the Ton talk.

"Excuse me," he abruptly stands from his place and Anthony stands with him, "Brother-"

"Please, don't. I need a moment alone," Benedict quickly says as he rushes out of the room.

[queers-gambit]

Simple, Easy, Effortless

prompt: ( requested ) from across the dance floor, Felix locks eyes with you and is instantly smitten. is it love at first sight? lust? he's determined to know.

pairing: Felix Catton x female!reader

fandom masterlist: Saltburn

word count: 5.1k+

note: this man is a SLUT but i'm sluttier in theory

warnings: the ducklips in the gif, obviously cursing, sexual tension, "love at first sight", author def uses her own university roommate experiences for inspiration, Lord's name in vain, mention of illicit drug use. REMEMBER: don't run from cops unless with Felix - or absolutely necessary - or you KNOW you can get away.

song featured in the movie and request: Murder on the Dance Floor

Humid. Sweaty. Pulsing. Overpopulated.

All good adjectives to describe your first university party with your roommate, Polly Schwartz. She had already been to loads of parties already, probably more than her actual classes, but being as you were a "scholarship kid", you took your education much more seriously than she did. Perhaps being why you spent your weekends studying, and she spent hers getting drunk, sleeping with randoms constantly, and partying nearly every weekend. You didn't think there was anything wrong with her habts, in fact, you encouraged her to go out most of the time; but after midterms, you were burnt the fuck out and Polly recommended you have a night out with her.

When she needed it, you helped Polly study, and now, it was time for her to return the favor in her own area of expertise. Tonight's party was hosted in an off-campus flat, making you worry about the authorities being phoned, but Polly assured you that nearly the entire complex was composed of Oxford students and there was barely a threat of this party being busted.

The moment you stepped into the humid, sweaty, pulsing, overpopulated flat, a drink was shoved into your hand by a barely-standing boy with a nose ring. He was decently attractive, but the belch he let out made you grimace and follow after Polly. He might've yelled something after your retreating form, but who could tell with the noise level?

"You need to loosen up, bitch! Jesus Christ, you're as stiff as a board, and trust me! No guy is gonna wanna approach you!" She laughed, missing your protest that you didn't care for male attention. "Wait," she gasped, "where'd you get that?"

"Uh, that lad over there," you pointed, blinking in mild shock when she snatched the drink from your hand and poured it out in a dying houseplant.

"I thought you were the brains of us," she scoffed, rolling her eyes. "Never accept a drink you didn't see being made! That's how you get drugged!"

"I'm not sure how this is supposed to work, Polly, for fuck's sake," you whined, hugging your arms as you gazed around nervously. "Maybe I should just go back to the dorms, this isn't really my scene - "

"Nope, you're staying," she shook her head, leading you by the hand to the kitchen. "Here - hang on, I'll get us something. Farleigh, my love!"

The handsome lad with a head full of fluffed coils turned with a small glare, but softened when he noted Polly's appearance. "There you are! I was wondering when you'd get here, darling!"

She giggled obnoxiously and you understood, this must've been the lad she was seeing on-and-off for the whole semester. "Well, I finally got this one out of the library, so we're a little late for a reason," she laughed, pointing her thumb back at you and making the boy eye you with judgement.

You gave a small wave, and he instantly offered his hand, introducing himself as, "Farleigh." After giving him your name, Polly was insisting you both needed a drink and Farleigh was nodding in agreement. "Here, drinks are this way - but it's self serve."

"Nobody made juice?" Polly pouted, the three of you approaching a decent-sized table that was full of bottles of liquor and mixers.

"Not this time," Farleigh laughed, and you let Polly make your drink because you were busy trying not to get run over by the other party goers.

"Christ Almighty, surely the floors will cave in with this many people?" You frowned when another drunk bumped into you and sloppily apologized.

"Only if we're lucky," Farleigh laughed. He directed at Polly, "Oh, remember Stephen's party? Donovan put a hole through the wall!"

Polly laughed as she handed you a fresh drink and all but ignored you in favor of this boy that was tapping a bit of suspicious powder onto his hand. Your eyes rolled and you turned away from them, slowly stalking around the room and taking in the scene - hating the way your ears felt as if they were bleeding from the terrible music selection.

But after you skulled your drink, you ran into a few classmates from your anthropology class. "Here, you can have this," Chelsea took the drink from Cara, "she's had way too much already."

You figured this exchange was safe enough after seeing Cara taking several gulps; not even noticing her hands were empty because she was dancing to the floor-shaking music in a daze.

"Who're you here with?" Pablo asked, bobbing his head to the beat. "We all came as a group, don't tell me you're alone!?"

"No, no, love, I came with Polly," you shrugged, feeling looser than when you first got there.

"Ew," Pablo rolled his eyes, the other girl snickering.

"Wait, what? What am I missing?" You asked with a small whine.

"Polly Harrington?" He asked, watching you nod. "Yeah, no, your li'l friend's the one who sucked off Professor Lorde."

"What?" You gaped.

"Why do you think she's here?" He gossiped. "Surely, not for her grades."

You just shook your head, "Maybe we shouldn't throw stones, it's rude to speak about others behind their backs."

"Doll face, it's not like it's a secret," Pablo laughed, nodding at your drink. "C'mon, bottoms up, buttercup, we've gotta get you dancing. You look way too cute to be a wallflower all night, c'mon, let's go! Chug! Chug!"

You gingerly took a gulp, but Pablo and Chelsea were encouraging you to just finish it off. When you did, they cheered with pride, laughing when you began giggling, "That's the worst taste! God!"

"Oh, sweetie, we don't drink for the taste, we drink to make us better dancers!" Chelsea beamed. "Want mine?"

"No, no - "

"Down it!"

You shrugged, inhibitions already significantly lowered, and with ease, finished your third drink. "I should get us more!" Pablo laughed.

"You do that, we're gonna dance!" Your friend waved him off, snatching your hand, and leading you to the dance floor. It was hard to distinguish where it was since there was wall-to-wall college kids stuffing the place, but you weaseled your way between people and let the alcohol take control. "Hey! By the way!" Chelsea spoke in your ear, "You look really hot! I adore this skirt!"

"Me? Babe, look at you! Can I borrow this dress?"

"Only if I can borrow those shoes!" She squealed.

You giggled and took her hand, spinning her around before joining together again. When Pablo rejoined, he handed you both a drink before jumping in front of you, throwing his reasonably fat arse back into your crotch - which forced you back onto your girlfriend in a dancing train. You three cheered through your laughter, smacking the lad's bottom playfully as he put his heart and soul into his dance; hands on his knees and hips bouncing.

However, Pablo only pulled away when Farleigh reappeared and stole him away to a darkening corner; only briefly making you wonder where he had left your roommate. You looked at Chelsea, who giggled in your ear, "They've been fucking recently. Pablo's whipped."

"I don't blame him," you mused. Cara had stumbled closer to you two, throwing her skinny arms around your neck and starting on a drunken ramble about how much she loved you - despite only sharing the one class together and knowing each other from a distance. Still, you appreciated the sentiment and let yourself feel loved; taking a sip from the plastic solo cup in hand and swinging your hips to the pulsing beat. In that moment, you just happened to look up, gasping, "There's a stripper pole!?"

"Go get on it!" Cara laughed. "Oh, wait, Felix is on it - oh, shit, Felix!"

"Who?" You asked.

"Felix, you know!? Felix Catton? Felix fucking Catton!" Cara blinked, then offered you an incredulous look and turned to Chelsea. "She doesn't know Felix?"

She waved Cara off, instead explaining to you, "He's that tall lad, in the white button up."

When you looked, Felix happened to glance over and your eyes connected. You were absolutely done for.

"Oh, yeah, she knows Felix now!" Cara giggled loudly. "Go! Go talk to him!" She encouraged, making your eyes bug widely.

"What?" You looked at the two girls, shaking your head, "No, no, I don't even know him!"

"Babes, 75% of the people you see paired up right now didn't know each other before this party!" Cara rolled her pretty eyes. "But hey, if you don't, India definitely will. Girl basically lives on his cock, it's decently pathetic - but just look at him! God took his time with Felix!"

"Oh, are they dating?" You asked innocently, looking back over to the tall boy in a white, linen button up. He grinned at you from the short distance.

"No," Chelsea laughed, seeing the way you two just stared and smiled softly. "Here, finish your drink and let the liquid courage do its job!"

"It's literally my first party," you laughed, "I'm not interested - "

"Oh, fuck off! Everyone's interested in Felix," Cara interrupted. "And I do mean, literally everyone."

"I can understand why," you mused, taking a long pull from your cup. "Cara, that lad, there, has been staring at you," you distracted, her swinging around instantly and thanking you before dancing over to the boy leaning on the wall.

He smirked when she reached him.

"She's a social butterfly," her roommate, Chelsea, giggled. "Do you need a refill?"

"Huh? Oh, no, I'm okay!"

"Okay, don't go too far - I'll be right back!" She grinned, knowing something you didn't, and disappearing into the thick crowd.

You swallowed another drink before you felt a hand on your waist, making you jump in surprise and turn. Before you towered the object of seemingly everyone's desires: Felix Catton.

"Haven't seen you around before," he spoke in your ear over the music.

"Oh, first timer," you nodded back.

"Doin' all right? Yeah? Havin' fun?"

You agreed, "Yeah, 'course. This your party?"

"No, no, uh," he glanced around the heads of students, "honestly, I'm not really sure who's flat this is."

"Oh, well, I guess as long as it's not damaged, it doesn't matter much, right?"

"Exactly," he smirked, offering his cup to yours. You clinked them together, both taking the obligatory sip, and swaying unconsciously to the music. "Who're you here with?"

"Polly - "

"Oh, Christ, yeah! Yeah, you're, uh, you're her roommate?"

You nodded, "You know her?"

"Who doesn't?"

"Oh," you frowned in discomfort, brows pinched.

"No, no, I just meant, she's popular, innit she? Not that - that she's sucked me off or anything like that!"

You laughed, "Wasn't thinking that, but good to know."

His cheeks flared a bright red, "That was a bit brash of me, wasn't it? Sorry, love, I should know better than to use such vocabulary with a pretty lady."

Your eyes rolled, "This 'pretty lady' has both heard and used much worse vernacular."

Felix slowly grinned, "You want a smoke?"

"Dying for one actually, yeah."

"This way, c'mon," he offered his free hand, and without thinking, you accepted and let the tall, slender lad lead you through the crowd. All of a sudden, you felt as if every eye was on you - watching, stalking, clocking you like predator does prey. You were directed to a balcony, a few lingering smokers standing around.

The moment the glass door slid shut, the music was semi-silenced and you breathed in slight relief. "Christ, 's always this loud?" You asked, leaning on the railing beside your companion while rubbing an ear to relieve the ringing sensation.

"Usually, yeah," he smirked, handing you a cigarette before placing one between his lips.

"You looked real natural on that pole," you teased, leaning in when he flicked a lighter to life.

"Oh, God," he laughed, watching you inhale. "Saw that, did you?"

You hummed, holding the smoke in your lungs, "Kinda hard t'miss. You were really into it."

He shrugged, lighting the end of his own nicotine filled stick. Upon exhale, he eased, "Was a really good song, wasn't it? Easy t'dance to, you know?"

"Hm," you nodded, "actually, I wouldn't know - I don't know half these songs."

"You livin' under a rock, love?"

"No, just with my nose in a book."

"Smart girl, are yah?"

"I would hope so, considering my scholarship."

"Even more impressive," he grinned. "You know Oliver, then? Oliver Quick? He's on scholarship, too."

"No, not quite, us scholarship kids don't all know one another," you shot back with a smirk.

"Fair enough," he agreed, eyeing you up and down. "So, why tonight?"

"Hmm?"

"Why come tonight?"

"Polly thought I could use a little stress relief," you answered, taking a long puff. "Not exactly the way I saw my night going, though."

"How's that?"

"Look at you!" You laughed. "Of all the ladies here, you danced your way over to me? Now you're having a conversation instead of working that pole?"

"I like to think that I just had to introduce myself to the prettiest lass in the whole joint," he flirted.

"And yet," you inhaled, "you've haven't made introductions."

"No? I haven't?" He smirked, watching your head shake. "Apologies, love. I'm Felix, uh, Felix Catton," he offered his hand, and when you shook it, you told him your own full name. "Now that that's outta the way," he took his own inhale, "how's about we go dance?"

"Oh, I might need to finish this drink before all that," you lifted your cup to your lips.

"Nah, I saw you earlier," he chuckled, stomping his cigarette out under his boot. "C'mon, love, not letting you get outta here without at least one dance."

"Surely, India would be a better option?"

He scoffed, "Oh? And how would you know that?"

"Chelsea and Cara might've made mention earlier. I wouldn't want to steal someone's man - girl code, and that shit."

For whatever reason, this made Felix snicker, "No, no, you've got it wrong, India and I are just friends."

"That's what guys say when they're sleeping with their 'friend'."

"Either way, she's not my girl," he smirked. "C'mon, love, one dance. If you're not convinced after that, I'll let yah go - no fuss."

"Oh, well, that doesn't sound remotely creepy," you laughed, dropping your own cigarette and stomping it out. "All right, yeah, one dance."

"Just one."

"A single dance."

"No more, but no less," he smirked, lacing your fingers together when you laid your hand in his. "Deal?"

You nodded, feeling absolutely giddy by his attention. When you reentered the party, it was almost as if it had grown in population, and suddenly, you wanted to be back on the balcony just to breathe. But Felix had a secure hold on you, and after downing the last of your drink, you set the cup on a random end table you passed before taking position on the "dance floor".

What you absolutely did not anticipate was that Felix wasn't the best dancer, but holy shit, did he not care; letting go and having fun. You let the alcohol in your system propel you, and soon, one dance turned into two, and two turned to three. It was like nobody else was there, it was just you and Felix; dancing like fools, letting your hair down, and you actually found yourself enjoying the music that vibrated the entire flat.

The song that played wasn't one you recognized, but the lyrics felt strangely appropriate for your current situation. Though there was no groove to be killed, no moves to steal, and no murdering on this dance floor, there was a whole lotta tension that fueled your movements together.

"Oh, oh, here we go, c'mon!" He laughed, tugging your hand after him to approach the stripper pole the flat's owner had installed. "Go on, love, show me how it's done!"

"Oh, fuck no!" You barked in laughter. "You're the master, let me take notes."

"I'll warn you, once you see my moves up close," he planted a hand on the pole and swung around it once, "you won't be able to resist!"

You waved him on, eyes widening when he danced around the pole as if nobody was watching, but in reality, he had an entire audience. Not that you noticed, you were solely focused on the boy putting on a show for you; both wearing goofy grins. When he got REALLY into it, you had to admit your stomach knotted in attraction when his lips pushed into a slutty pout. Never had you wanted to kiss someone so bad in your life before, but it increased ten fold when he swung around and grabbed onto your waist; effortlessly pushing you onto the pole as he released it.

"C'mon, then!" He beamed, watching you stand for a single awkward moment before figuring, why the hell not?

So, you swung yourself around before shocking Felix to his bloody core by holding the pole and grinding down it - giving a teasing peek at your panties when your legs spread slightly to accommodate your dance moves. His jaw slackened, eyes raked up and down your form, lips pulling in a smirk the longer he watched you go. Your hair flung around, hips gyrated in movements that made his pants tighten, and when he couldn't stand it any longer, he caught you in another swing.

Hips against yours, arms around one another, he danced you back onto the crowded floor; a hand raising to caress the side of your face as if he was mesmerized by all you were, all you are.

It was so simple to lose yourself in his dancing, in his scent, in his aurora. It was so easy to move against him. It was so simple to exist with Felix fucking Catton.

He was intoxicating, making you feel more drunk on him than the alcohol you had ingested. And while the moment felt serious, once you were surrounded by peers again, you melted into a sense of silliness. Any care you had, any worry - it all melted away, it evaporated, got swept under the rug because Felix commandeered your entire attention.

From the side of the room, Cara and Chelsea squealed in excitement for you, high-fiving when they noted India's jealous glare. Farleigh and Pablo even snickered, wondering how long it would take for Felix's charm to get you into bed; a bet being placed between the two lads before taking another bump of cocaine that distracted them for the rest of the time.

On the dance floor, your laughter was genuine and a little loud when he swung you around before dying in your throat when he pulled you in close. Again, the party melted away and it was just you and Felix; his hands on your hips, head bowed to corral you close, his warm brown eyes intense as they flitted between your eyes and lips.

You knew what he wanted, but didn't want to give into temptation yet. Keeping an air of mystery, you smiled coyly and pushed back slightly - but he was yanking you right back in.

When a friend of his came around with a tray full of shots, his arm coiled around your waist tightly to keep you anchored as he accepted the Jell-O concoction. You still buzzed from your earlier drinks and nicotine, bobbing and humming to the song playing, Felix instantly moving with you.

And just like you worried earlier, from deep in the party, someone shouted, "IT'S THE FUZZ! GO! SCATTER!"

"Oh, shit! Oh, my God!" You gasped in worry, the music cutting and students rushing for the exit.

"C'mere, c'mere, 's all right," Felix rushed, pulling you back into a wall to let the stampede rush around you as he planted you in front of him. Your hands held his waist, watching those around you run away, and when you looked up, Felix was already staring at you.

The moment your eyes met, you both snickered in amusement before bursting into full-on laughter. "Oh, Jesus Christ!" You mused, leaning your forehead to his pectoral. "I knew it - of course my first party is busted, hey?"

"Just makes it all the more memorable, yeah?"

"You were doing a pretty good job on your own with that," you met his gaze again - feeling coy and playful.

"Yeah?" He grinned. "Well, I try."

"I think you succeed."

He opened his mouth to respond, caressing your cheek, but someone else shouted, "GO, GO, GO! Felix, c'mon, mate! The fuck you doin'! We gotta go! I can't get another citation!"

"Let's go," he told you instead, lacing your hands together again and joining the last of the stream filtering out of the flat.

"Where're we - "

"This way, trust me," he dodged down a separate hallway, a few others following his lead. Down a flight of stairs, turning down another hall, and you two were bursting into the chilly night air.

The lights of the copper's cars flashed from around the building and you realized you were at the back. Others were rushing from the door, scattering into the night, but Felix just leaned on the brownstone and waited, checking your surroundings.

"What now?" You worried, panting lightly from the rush of adrenaline.

"We go that way," he nodded, "walk slow and calm, we don't know shit about a party. We're just walking back to campus, yeah?"

"Oh, like that'll work," you snickered, but again, laced your hands together. "On your lead, my lord," you joked.

"That make you my lady?"

"Hm, nah," you refused with a smirk, "I don't do well with sharing and you seem to be well liked, aren't yah?"

He hummed, letting go of your hand to toss his arm around your neck, still subtly checking around you for any police officers. Your arm latched around his waist, reaching up to hold the hand dangling from your shoulders. "I might be well liked, but for you, I'd drop everyone," he flirted easily - as if second nature, as if he didn't even have to think about the words that oozed out of that slick mouth.

"Oh, how flattering."

"I would hope so," he breathed, leading you out of the back garden. "Swear, love, never been so caught-up before. Just saw you and had t'come talk - had t'know who you are. I mean, just look at'cha, sweetheart, can you really blame me?"

"That line usually works, does it?"

"More often than not," he laughed, you joining in as you slipped from the back gate.

"HEY! YOU TWO! STOP RIGHT THERE! STOP!"

"Oh, shit," Felix gasped, snatching your hand in an instant as two officers started to clumsily rush towards you two.

"What do we - "

"Run!" He laughed, yanking you after him.

"Felix!"

"HEY! STOP! STOP! COME BACK HERE!"

You couldn't stop laughing as you both sprinted down the street and around an alley, taking three more turns before coming to a panting halt; pausing to listen.

"Hear 'em?" He whispered, keeping you on the inside so he could peer down the alley you had escaped down.

"No...?"

"I don't either," he nodded, glancing down at you and chuckling. "You're fast, you on the track team?"

"Oh, please, you should be fast when running from the law, shouldn't you?"

"Knew I liked you," he barked in humor. "C'mon, love, 's a nice night, innit it?"

"Nice night for what? Breaking laws?"

"Well, yeah, but I meant for a walk," he mused, walking backwards, snagging both your hands in his to pull you off the wall you were hiding behind. "It's a bit of a hike back to campus, might as well make the most of it," he smiled, turning to keep pace beside you with his arm around your waist. "Not every night I get t'walk in the moonlight with a beautiful lass."

You pulled his arm up to your shoulders again, holding his waist comfortably, and being as you weren't familiar with the area, trusting him to lead you back. After a beat, you admitted in a sigh, "You know, tonight wasn't what I expected and yet, it's exactly what I thought."

"Was it better or worse than you could've planned?"

You laughed, "Well, running from the cops wasn't on my bingo card."

"How's it feel? 'T be such a bad girl?"

"You tell me."

Felix laughed, "Ah, love, not my first time, but it's just as exhilarating."

"Jesus," you rolled your eyes in humor. "Not exactly what I wanted to hear, you having other run-ins with officers."

"Oh, you like it!"

"I might," you agreed, stepping onto the sidewalk of a main street. "Oh, shit, oh, my God!" You halted, looking nervous and frantic. "I left Polly! Fuck!"

"Nah, nah, nah, don't worry, love, I saw her leave earlier while we were dancing."

"Huh?"

"Yeah, she left with Johnny."

"Who the fuck is Johnny?"

He grinned, "Yeah, that's it, you're hanging with me from now on. We'll get you aquatinted with your classmates, yeah?"

"Maybe I have no want nor need to know people," you spoke softly. "I'm here for an education, not t’socialize."

"Doesn't hurt though, does it?"

"After tonight? I don't know if you can make that case."

"You seriously telling me you didn't have fun? Oh, sweetheart, that hurts. I'm hurt, honestly," he pouted dramatically, free hand to his heart; glittering gold ring winking at you under the street lamps.

"What's that?" You asked, alcohol making you easily distracted. He glanced at his hand and held it out for you, showing his ring. "What's the design? It's real pretty - didn't think I'd see it on a guy."

He chuckled, "Ah, it's a signet - my family's signet, actually."

"Jesus, I knew it," you groaned. "No way you were just a regular somebody! A bloody signet? What? Related t'the Queen, are yah?"

"No, not exactly," he snorted. "But my father is knighted..."

"Holy shit," you blinked. "What's that like?"

He looked down at you, brows slowly furrowing, "You really wanna know? Most people just, I don't know, kinda assume I'm rich and that's all there is to my life."

You felt a single pang of empathy, smiling up at him, "I really wanna know, Felix. C'mon, what's your family do? Both parents still alive? They still married? Where's home?"

For the entire walk back to campus, you and Felix talked as if old friends. Sure, you were getting to know each other, but it felt as if you'd known one another for ages by how easy it was to talk to him. And he seemed enthralled by your questions; wondering about his life, not just the pretty face he bore. Not just the money to his name. You seemed genuinely curious as to who "Felix Catton" was... Something he hadn't known his entire time at Oxford.

When you got back to your dorm, you felt sad by the idea of parting ways, something that genuinely shocked you. Yet the obscene sounds from behind the thin, wooden door alerted you to Polly and her guest, making you pause and sigh. "Well, that's awkward," you mused, leaning on the opposite wall. "Uh, thanks for walking me back, but I'm just gonna crash in the common room."

"Oh, bollocks to that, love," he shook his head, offering his hand again. "C'mon, you can crash with me."

"Hm, sounds sketchy."

"Oh? How's that?" He laughed.

"We just met!"

"C'mon, sweetheart, it's just a bed t'sleep in. Promise, nothing's gonna happen - even if you beg."

"Oh, what a gentleman," you laughed, much to his amusement. "All right, yeah... If I can borrow something to sleep in? Not entirely comfortable sleepin' in this..."

"I've gotcha," he nodded, leading you from your dorm and to his. Which, to your surprise, was the housing beside your own.

"Oh, Felix, NO!" You gaped when you entered his room. "Oh, darling, no, no, no, what's this?"

"It's not that bad - "

"No, I'm talking that!" You laughed, not phased by the mess, pointing to the Manchester football flag. "Don't tell me - "

"Nah, hey, don't do that, 's my father's team," he chuckled. "It reminds me to watch, gives us something t'talk about..."

You cooed, "Well, that's actually sweet of you. I guess I can let it slide."

"Oh, you're a saint."

He tossed you clean boxers and a tee shirt, letting you change in the adjoining restroom as he quickly changed in the bedroom. When you joined him again, you both got comfortable on the bed, but sleep evaded you... Leading into a long night of chatter, jokes, and establishing friendship that would eventually turn romantic.

But for that night, it was simple. It was easy. It was effortless.

You both crashed around 4 am, and when you woke the following afternoon, your head was on his chest, his arm tight around your waist, and there wasn't a single concern in your heart or head.

"Jesus, fuck," Felix groaned when he woke, tightening his arm to constrict you against his warm body on the teeny, tiny dorm bed. "Ah, Christ, remind me not t'drink again, yeah, love?"

"You and me, both," you grumbled, nestling closer.

He sighed, "Yah hungry?"

"A bit."

"Wanna go t'yours, change, get something t'eat?" He offered, rubbing your waist. "C'mon, my treat."

You lifted your head to check his bedside clock, grunting as you laid back down, "It's past noon."

"So? Stomachs don't open or close."

You let your chin prop on his chest, smiling, "Food sounds nice."

He nodded, eyes once more dancing between yours. "Know, you look real good in my clothes. Might have t'let you keep it."

"Much appreciated, pretty boy. C'mon, food helps with the hangover, doesn't it?"

"Very much," he nodded, reaching for his cigarettes. "Hmm?" He offered.

"Mhm," you accepted, both settling on your backs, but he pulled you in close to light your stick. "You always like this?" You whispered, smoking swirling in the air above you.

"What's that?"

"Charismatic?"

"Ah, if I could turn it off... Well, bein' honest, I wouldn't."

"Oh, shove off," you both laughed lightly at your words, looking up at him. He seemed ethereal in the morning light, and then - it happened. He set his cigarette to an ashtray to free his hand, caressing your cheek and making you go still.

"Would you think less of me if I kiss you?"

"I'd think less if you didn't, I think..."

He smirked and curled over, lips finding yours in a searing, breathtaking kiss that tasted like the previous night's alcohol. Yet he still tasted so pleasantly spicy and unique, making you inhale sharply and hold onto the back of his neck to keep him close. He hummed lightly, tongues swirling like the smoke that still hung in the air, and when he pulled back, again, you both just laughed lightly before he was swooping in for another kiss.

It was like I said... Simple, easy, effortless.

requesting rules and masterlist

Saltburn masterlist

[hippopotamusdreamer]

Office Fuss

genre. small hint of [A] ?, [M] SMUT, [F] at the end, [AU]

warnings. established relationship, swearing, SMUUUUUTT, 18+ MDNI, unprotected sex (p in v), semi-public sex (?), slight breath play, marking, groping, fingering (f rec), biting, spanking, praise, dirty talk, breeding kink, creampie, edging, thigh riding, brief nipple play, begging, hair pulling, Pet names (in no particular order): babe, baby, babygirl, sweetheart, needy girl, good girl, pretty, sweet girl

additional notes. Female! Reader | You/Your pronouns, a few other idols make a brief appearance, I.N as Jeongin and Lee Know as Minho in one part, use of Christopher, this was proof read once so good luck LOL MDNI warning a couple times cause you cant be too safe ya know

pairing. CEO!Bang Chan X reader

w.c. 5.7K

synopsis. You're working, so what does your boyfriend want???

Kpop Masterlist

Fandom Masterlist

You were roused from your sleep by a familiar feeling. Plush lips pressed against your face repeatedly. The familiar heehee of your boyfriend when he caught you trying to hide your smile from him like music to your ears.

“Channie,” you breathed in as you stretched in bed.

“Good morning,” he said into the crook of your neck, leaving a final kiss there.

He pulled back a bit to look at you, the both of you lying in serene silence. You brought your hand up to tangle in the mess of his curls, still a mess from last night’s escapades. Reaching for your hand, he brought it down and placed a tender kiss to your palm.

“Do we really have to go in to work today?” you whined.

He grinned brightly at your reluctance.

“As much as I want you all to myself, we have to. I have a couple meetings scheduled and then I have to draw up an expense report for last week’s business trip.”

“Oh, poor you~,” you teased him.

You yelped out in surprise when his arms suddenly wrapped around you, bringing you closer only to laugh out loud as he began to blow raspberries into your skin.

“Quit! Chan, you’re getting your slobber all over me!” you wriggled about, trying to get out of his hold but it was no use. His steel grip on you did not loosen.

Both of your alarms chose then to go off, the two of you groaning at the electrical intrusion. Pulling apart, you sat up in bed as Chan went to turn off the offending noise. You watch him silently as he maneuvers around your apartment as if he lived there. He stayed over so many times though, he might as well have. And vice versa with you staying at his apartment, even his doorman no longer had to call him up to make sure you were allowed in.

It had a been a reoccurring conversation between the both of you, moving in together. It was a big step in your relationship. You were hesitant but not because of how Chan was. Lord knows he was one of the better relationships you’ve ever had. No, the issue was your landlord having a problem with you leaving your contract early, but you finally managed to come to an agreement this past week.

All that was left was to tell Chan the good news.

You were brought out of your thoughts when Chan released the breath he was holding while stretching.

“There’s also going to be “surprise” inspection in your department after lunch today,” he said, using quotation marks with one hand while pulling up his jeans over his toned legs with the other. It made you snort until his words sank in causing your brows to furrow.

“Inspection? In the graphic design team? Why?”

“I don’t know, I think the CEO just wants to check that his workers are being productive down there.” He said with a smirk.

Matching his smirk with a sarcastic one, you met him as he bent down with a giggle to give you a kiss. Before either of you could get into it any further, his watch beeped on your dresser.

“Ok, I really have to go now if I wanna shower at home.” He said with a hint of sadness that you hadn’t picked up on. “I’ll see you at the office babe, I love you.”

Pulling away, Chan slipped on his shirt from last night but not until after giving you three more kisses goodbye.

“Bye, love you!” You called after him.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

“Hey Y/N, how was your weekend? Did you do anything fun?” your desk mate, Jeon Jungkook, asked as he sat down next to you.

“Nope, nothing exciting. Binge watched yet another murder documentary,” you replied while not looking away from your screen. Though you could already tell he had a disgusted look on his face.

“I don’t understand how you can watch those back to back,” he said wrinkling his nose, all you could do was laugh at his reaction.

It was a secret, your relationship with a certain Bang Chan, current CEO of SKZ Enterprises. If word got around that he was seeing an employee who knows what that would do to your position at the company and they dynamic with everyone you worked with.

The two of you had met during a wild outing one random Saturday night a couple years ago. He was actually doing a body shot off of your friend when your eyes met. And he did not take his off you for the rest of the night. You thought he was the hottest guy in that club at that moment. Had you eye fucking the shit out of him on that bar top as you tried to control yourself.

You blamed your period tracker for saying your ovulation was at its peak that night.

Next thing you knew, you were practically devouring each other in the bathroom stall. Which led to you taking him home and him taking you out for breakfast the morning after. It wasn’t until a building wide assembly where Chan had to give a speech roughly four months into your situationship that either of you found out about the other’s career. Before that you’d only given each other a vague idea of what you each did for a living, so it was pretty surprising for both parties.

You then had a mildly awkward sit down with after that and had a heart to heart. You two tried to break it off leading to roughly a month apart. Emphasis on rough. It was ultimately for nothing since it all came crashing down when Chan showed up to your apartment soaking wet from the pouring rain and another heated night was spent together. From there you both confessed your actual feelings for each other and then promised to keep it hush hush while in the office.

“Y/N-ah,” a voice called behind you, pulling you from your thoughts for the second time that day. Turning around in your chair, you saw your department head, Hwang Hyunjin waving you over.

Heading over to meet him, you could see the way his hands were fidgeting and how his teeth basically mutilated his bottom lip. Raising an eyebrow at his behavior you asked him, “What’s up boss?”

“How are you coming along with the AT.EEZ files?” he asked.

“Oh, I’m almost done. I just have to refine some of the lines and then add the watermark. But it should be good to go before lunch. Why? Everything ok, you don’t look good.”

“That’s great. Wait, I don’t? No, I’m fine. I’m ok. I just got an email from MY team lead…”

He trailed off but you had worked with him long enough to know that he just wanted you to ask about it. If he wasn’t a brilliant artist, you were sure he would have made it big in the world of drama.

“…And what was in the email?” You mustered faux concern, already having an idea on what it contained.

“I can’t tell you,” You waited a beat before he continued. “Ok but you can’t tell anyone yet. I just got word that the head of the company is going to come down here today.”

“Whaaaat,” you blinked more than usual, trying to appear shocked by the news. Bringing your hand up to cover your mouth, you tried your best to shield your smile as much as possible. “What time is he supposed to come down here?”

“After lunch. So are you absolutely positive that you can be done with the files by then? They’re one of our top clients, we can’t let the higher ups have any reason to be breathing down our necks about them.” The wrinkles he gave himself was enough for you to not tease him anymore.

“Yes, I’m sure. You can count on me Hyunjin,” you promised while giving him a little salute. You could see him visibly deflate in relief.

“Ok, ok good. We’ll present your stuff in the meeting room first then. Seulgi, JK, how are the RKIVE drafts?” he questioned, moving past you towards your other co-workers.

With a final nod to yourself, you made your way back to your seat and continued working.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

You worked well until it was time for lunch yet just as you promised, you finished what you needed to. JK wanted to wait for you to go to lunch but you told him to go ahead knowing full well that Jeongin from Accounting would come and find you to go down together.

And just like clockwork, “ Hey Ugly, let’s go.”

“I’m coming Stupid,” was your automatic response.

Your relationship with Yang Jeongin was what people would consider siblings. But if they were the type of siblings that were born too close together and would constantly get on each other’s nerves. Even though you were older than him by a few years, he was able to bring out that twin energy out of you.

The two of you made it downstairs meeting your co-workers Soobin and Beomgyu along the way. Both happy to see you. With them working on the other side of the building, it was nice when you could meet up with them like this.

You thought you had caught a brief glance of your boyfriend but before you could double check, Beomgyu grabbed onto your arm telling you to hurry up, pulling you along with him.

Now, you were sat in the communal cafeteria. In the process of fighting off Jeongin’s chopsticks, which were trying to steal the last piece of meat off your tray, when Soobin distracted you.

“Did you hear that the CEO is going around some of the departments today?”

You looked at Soobin and subsequently lost your last bit of food. Frowning at the brunette, he just continued to chew with a smile much to your dismay. Beomgyu only laughed hysterically, clapping in delight at the scene before him.

“Yeah, I heard about it. Hyunjin was super worried.”

“Heard he’s looking for people to fire,” Jeongin inputted after swallowing your stolen treat.

“He is not,” you said incredulously.

“It could be true! I work in Accounting.”

The three of you just silently stared at him before you reached up to flick him on the forehead. He cried out in pain as he reached for the spot you hit.

“Aht!”

“What the hell does that have to do with anything Stupid?”

“It means,” he quickly got up from his seat startling everyone at the small table. “Shut up, that’s what.” He ended up flicking your forehead back before taking off to the trash cans near the entrance.

“Hey!” you cried after him.

“Mr. Yang, how many times do I have to tell you, no running!” Minho, the Director of Accounting, yelled after his subordinate.

The lunch shenanigans died down quickly with Jeongin’s departure. You, Soobin and Beomgyu conspiring as to the real reason why the head of the company would be checking around the departments. With neither of you coming up with any viable ideas, you had parted at the elevators to return to your respected floors.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

You were currently sat in Conference Room #3 waiting to get the presentation over with. The rest of your small department slowly trickling in. You were next to JK, him raving about what the meeting could be about.

“I’m just saying he could have given us a warning!” His head plastered to the table in front of him. Hands making a mess of his already shaggy hair.

“Then it wouldn’t have been a surprise visit now would it,” you replied immediately to his behavior.

“I’m just saying!” He swiftly lifted his head, you leaning back in your seat to not get hit with the larger man’s limbs.

“Sorry noona,” he said while patting your head.

You waved him off, already used to his antics. Crossing your arms and closing your eyes, you leaned back in your chair, an afternoon nap sounded amazing right about now.

“Like who does he think he is! Making everyone freak out at the last minute, a good boss wouldn’t do that. Don’t you think so noona?” He went quiet, probably waiting for you to respond.

“Oh yeah, can’t stand working for that guy. Hate him sooo much,” you said halfheartedly.

You felt a presence loom over you. So when you didn’t hear a peep from the younger man, you cracked open one of your eyes and came face to face with your boyfriend. Shocked, you almost fell from your chair had Chan not immediately supported you in your seat.

“Cha-Chr-Mr.,” you stuttered.

He was close enough that you were able to see the tick in his jaw.

Oh he was pissed.

“Miss. Y/L/N, follow me,” he got out, voice hard yet face unreadable as he turned back to the door. He paid no mind to the other people in the room.

“But the presentation…,” you uttered weakly.

“Now,” he hadn’t waited for you as he left. Stumbling after him, you caught a glimpse of JK’s worried face.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

You followed Chan as he went to his designated elevator. Being the CEO of the company had its privileges after all. Various workers looking at you in concern as you trailed after the head of the company.

The entire ride up was silent, you weren’t sure if you were supposed say anything or not. And since he wasn’t saying anything, you just followed along. He continued to lead you down to his office once the two of your reached the top floor. His assistant barely casting a glance in either of your directions.

“Han, cancel all my meetings for the rest of the afternoon.”

Han didn’t say anything, just gave a grunt of acknowledgement as he typed away at the computer before him, doing as his boss asked.

As the door shut behind you tried to explain yourself, “Chan, I—”

You didn’t get much out before you were swiftly pinned against the door, Chan’s hand wrapping around your throat. His fingers dug into the soft flesh there, applying pressure as he squeezed, your heart skipping a beat at the very familiar action. Though his grip wasn’t tight enough to cut off your air supply, it was enough to get your insides going fuzzy. He trailed his nose along your chin and up to your ear as he nipped at the soft flesh. His other hand firmly attached to your hip, massaging circles with his thumb since your button-up shifted.

“You hate working for me, baby? Baby, baby, baby…,” his voice gravely and dangerous as he moved his leg in between yours.

“Chan, w-what are you doing, we’re at work,” your eyes fluttered as you tried to move away from his teeth but another squeeze against the sides of your throat stopped you. Instead a quiet sigh fell from your lips as you brought your own hands up to grab at his shirt. Whether to stop him or bring him in closer, you weren’t sure yet.

“I’m not a jealous man Y/N-ah, but twice today I saw other guys have their hands on you.”

“No, they didn’t—”

“You gonna try to lie to me baby?” He questioned with another slight squeeze. You tried not to give him the satisfaction of showing what he was really doing to you. Biting your lip to keep your cool, you took a deep breath.

Then he leant down and bit onto the space between your neck and shoulder gently but firmly, and you were a goner.

“Chan,” you whimpered out as you began to rock gently against his thigh. The hand that had been massaging your hip now guided you back and forth. Heat pooling in your core at the motion. Your mouth opening and closing, wanting a kiss from him. “What if Han hears us?”

“Don’t think you can keep quiet babygirl?” He asked while pulling back from you slightly.

You shook your head no, trying not to pant. “Want a kiss Chan, please?”

“What manners my needy girl has,” he said while giving you a quick peck. The grin on his face was evidence that he knew that wasn’t what you had in mind and he knew it. “Don’t worry, the room’s soundproof. You can be as loud as you want.”

In one motion he had you grinding in a particularly rough fashion and you could feel yourself coming closer to the edge. You could no longer hide your panting from the man.

“S’that feel good baby?” He questioned in your ear.

“Uh huh,” you managed to get out quietly, basically white knuckling his shirt in your fists to bring him closer. “So good baby.”

Then he pulled away and you were left dazed and crying out in confusion. Almost toppling over unsteadily by the door as he made his way to his desk. You shook your head to clear the haze of lust that had made its appearance.

“What the fuck, Chan?”

“Come here baby,” he said leisurely while patting his lap after sitting.

You focused on him as he sat back in his plush desk chair, spreading out and making the space his own. His suit jacket and tie had been discarded on the couch in the room. The sleeves of his white button down were now rolled up and the top couple buttons were now undone leaving his chest and collar bone exposed. His hair tousled from how many times he ran his hands through it the entire day.

On shaky legs, you made your way over.

Swallowing thickly, and with a now slightly clearer head, you understood what was about to go down. You just had to be sure, once more, if it was ok as you took the hand that reached out for you. “Are you sure we should be doing this here?”

He didn’t say anything as he guided you to straddle his lap. His eyes darkened as he looked up at you, gently pushing a strand of hair behind your ear.

“We shouldn’t, but fuck if it isn’t tempting,” he gets out with a smirk.

Before you could protest further, he brought you down for a searing kiss. More teeth and tongue than anything. A degrading moan coming from who knows who.

“Wanna take your shirt off for me pretty?” He asked after breaking away.

Staring deep into his eyes, you trailed your hands over your body. Upward to the top button of your work blouse. As much as you tried to portray that you weren’t becoming a mess, the both of you could tell by the way your hands slightly shook. Fumbling with even the first button.

Chan, deciding to give you mercy, helped you with the first two instead. Eventually you did take over unbuttoning the rest as he sat up slightly in his seat. Trailing butterfly kisses along your collar bone, leaving a nibble here and there. A necklace of red marks appearing in his wake as he went.

Pulling the fabric off your shoulders, Chan slowly brought your shirt down to pool to the floor. Exposed chest on display, he reached behind you to unclasp your bra and tossed it to the side as well. With how cold it was in his office, your nipples immediately pebbled soon after being uncovered to the room. As much as you wanted to hide away from his hungry gaze, you knew he’d reprimand you in some way if you did.

“So fucking gorgeous, and for me only,” he said with a possessive growl.

With one hand supporting your lower back, he leant down, taking one of your nipples into his mouth and sucked hard, causing you to groan to the heavens. His tongue swirled around the hardened peak, occasionally pulling it slightly with his teeth. Chan was there for a bit, massaging away at the flesh with his mouth as his free hand latched onto the opposite breast. A wet pop was heard as he released the bud from his mouth and switched tactics with the other one. Giving it just as equal attention as you squirmed in place.

His arms held you close, keeping you flushed against him as he gave your nipple one last lick. Your own arms came up to wrap around him as well, one hand tangling in his hair as the other clutched at his shirt. The hand situated on your back moving down to cup your ass through your skirt, allowing you to finally move on his lap.

Like magnets, your lips connected together again.

“You’re such a good girl for me,” he said through the bruising kiss.

You shivered under his touch and praise, letting yourself fall further into the sensations. His other hand reaching down to rake your skirt up to bunch at your waist. His fingers teased the edge of your underwear before finally slipping underneath. His thick digits sliding through your folds easily with how slick you already were.

“Fuck…you’re so fucking wet baby,” he groaned against your lips, breaking the kiss to trail hot open mouthed kisses down your neck. You heart was pounding in your chest as the blood rushed to your ears.

“Channie,” You mewled out.

“What do you want sweetheart? Huh, use your words.”

This feeling was sinful. Though Chan’s door automatically locked, just the idea that anyone with the code could walk in on the two of you was enough to make you dizzy. You practically felt his cock twitching underneath you, straining against the fabric of his slacks. The way his fingers only brushed against your clit, driving you insane.

“Fi…,” You couldn’t think clearly as he squeezed your ass periodically the way that he knew would torment you.

“Hmm? Don’t you want to be my good girl?”

You nodded at his words immediately.

“My good girl would know how to use her words,” he teased while giving your ass a slap causing you to push forward. His fingers slipping in slightly deeper than before.

“There! Need you there!”

He smiled brightly at your eager form. His dimples popping out more than usual.

“Here?” He teased as your hips ground against his palm, you just knew your juices covered his hand.

And then he drove two of his digits inside. Your mouth falling opened in a silent gasp of pleasure. His mouth mirroring yours as he watched you intently.

“You’re so warm, baby. Is this all for me?”

You nodded in response, too caught up in the moment to respond properly. Your eyes becoming hooded as he curled his fingers just right inside of you. Each upward motion sending jolts of electricity through your entire frame. You couldn’t have pulled him in closer even if you tried.

“Oh goood~,” you finally managed to get out in a desperate cry.

“That’s it sweetheart. You ride my fingers so well, only I know where to touch you, ain’t that right, baby. Show me how much you want it.”

With the two inside you, his thumb moved in a certain way for it to land on your clit making you moan immediately into his neck. Rubbing at the swollen bud, his fingers continued to pump in and out of you.

“God, I can’t wait to feel you wrapped around me. You feel amazing every time. Wish I could stay in here forever baby. I can feel it, just how close you are sweetheart. You’re squeezing down on my fingers so hard.”

Your cries echoed around the room, signaling your growing orgasm. Chan’s smile grew wider, his fingers working relentlessly between your folds, teasing your clit, and probing deep into your aching pussy.

“You love this don’t you baby? Being filled up by my fingers, making a mess of me at work.” He asked mockingly, voice, low and menacing.. “It’s addicting isn’t it? Maybe we should do this all the time. Just have you come up here every day. Let me have my way with you and no one outside of this room would know.”

Your moans grew louder, borderline screaming. A part of you hoping that Chan hadn’t lied about the room being soundproof. After being edged earlier and the slew of filthy words that kept coming from his mouth, it was no wonder you were on the brink of coming undone so fast. It was as if he could read your mind by the way he started to slow his arm motions down.

“Noo, Channie…baby please,” you pleaded with him not to stop, collapsing fully into him. “Fuck…I’m so close babe.”

The feeling of his fingers suddenly coming out of you was just appalling. The empty sensation enough to make you desperate, you needed to be filled with him.

Now.

“Chan pleeeease…I’ve been good. I’ve been so good, please…don’t do this.” You barely managed to cry out into his skin. He didn’t listen, only brought his glistening fingers to his mouth. You stared up at him, gaze still hooded, as he licked and sucked on his own digits. Your own tongue copying what his was doing to himself. The low groan he let out shooting straight to your frenzied core.

He smirked around his fingers as he tasted you on himself. With a final satisfied groan he licked them clean. Watched as you stared back at him, mouth parted. His eyes filled with lust that more than likely mirrored your own. You bit at your lip, body trembling with anticipation.

“I know you have been, my sweet girl. You ready for your reward?” He rubbed himself  through his slacks, visible wet spots in the fabric created by both of your arousals. By now, his cock could have been compared to a steel rod with how hard he’d been this entire time.

“Mmhmm,” Mewling quietly, you nodded. With one hand he brought you in for a deep kiss, his tongue exploring your mouth. The other began to undo his pants, freeing his throbbing cock from its confines. You moaned softly as he teased at your entrance, gliding between your folds before thrusting in without warning. The both of you groaning in ecstasy.

“Fuuuuuck…Christopher…,” his size was one you would never get used to no matter how many times you’ve fucked already

Chan reveled in the feeling that was just you.

It drove him insane just how much he wanted to be deeper inside of you with each thrust that he did. The way you bounced in his lap as he pounded into your tight pussy with a force that should have broken the chair immediately. Your tits bouncy in his face making him loose his mind even more.

“There’s my good girl,” he growled. “I’m gonna give you everything you need. No one else can fuck you this good, baby.”

“No one!” You echoed.

His hands, now holding you, tightened around your hips, holding you steady. The sound of your bodies colliding with each other echoing throughout the room too. His cock slid in and out of your folds with ease, coated in a slick layer of your combined juices.

Without warning, Chan brought his hand down across your ass, the sharp crack of flesh against flesh filling the air. Feeling the sting of his slap, you cried out, your body jolted forward from the impact. But instead of pulling away, you pushed against him, seeking more of that same sting.

“So good baby!” You cried breathlessly.

As he gave your ass another spank, you couldn’t hold back the moan that left your throat. Your backside began to turn pink under his hand.

Neither of you cared.

You could feel Chan’s cock throbbing inside of you. His hand left your ass to tangle inside your hair, tugging at it roughly. The movement caused you to gasp raggedly into the air.

“Gonna fill you up baby, gonna breed this tight little pussy. Make sure no one mistakes who you belong with. You hear me?”

“Yes, yes Christopher! Want you…fill me up…”

He grabbed onto you mid thrust to place you on top of his desk, not even breaking his rhythm. This new position allowed him to reach deeper, his cockhead practically kissing your cervix with every thrust inside.

“Ahh…ahh…ahh..” you gasped out, unable to contain your noises or desire.

“That’s right baby, you love to be filled with my cum don’t you?”

“Y-yeaaaah~”

Chan’s powerful thrusts continued to drive his cock inside your warm folds. You were in haze of bliss, surrendering to the feeling that was Chan.

“Fucking hell…,” he groaned, his voice thick with lust as he pounded into you with reckless abandon. Each thrust brought the two of you closer and closer to the release you so needed. Already he could feel your tight walls clenching around him, milking his cock for everything it was going to give.

“You ready baby?” He asked, the strain in his voice signaling that he was on the brink of losing it.

“Channie!” You choked out as you finally got to come underneath him. Your body trembling as wave after wave of ecstasy wracked your form. Legs locking around your boyfriend to keep him close to you.

“Fuck, I love you!” He yelled; his voice filled with pure ecstasy. His body tensed as his dick throbbed when he came, his cum hot as it painted your walls white. He groaned loudly as his vision went out briefly. He swore, if anyone had asked, he would have said he saw stars behind his eyelids.

He lay there, collapsed in your embrace. The both of you panting, breaths intermingling. He placed little kisses into your skin while you each calmed down from your highs. You trailed your fingers through his hair, feeling awash with serenity.

“I love you too by the way,” you said softly now that you weren’t being fucked out of your mind. You could just feel his smile as he tried to hide into your neck, much like he did earlier that morning.

“Oh no, don’t try to act all shy now!” You playfully chastised, pushing him away slightly to see his face better. “Not after what you literally just did to me.”

All he could do was laugh out loud, eyes disappearing behind his grin. His face becoming red in embarrassment under your hand.

A shuddered groan escaped the both of you as Chan finally pulled his softening dick out of you.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

After allowing yourselves a moment to clean up after the debauched act, you were sat in his desk chair, him in front of you. Your legs on his as he sat crossed legged on the mahogany item.

“Alright babe, spill. What’s wrong?” you asked.

“What’d’you mean? Nothing’s wrong,” he evaded, playing with your legs.

“You did not just pull me out of the department meeting over nothing,” you said with a skeptical look. He avoided your stare, choosing instead to trail invisible lines across your skin.

He’s pouting.

“Channie?” You encouraged.

“…” He did the thing that he typically did when he was thinking about what say. Mouth pursed to the side, eyes moving back and forth unfocused. So you waited until he was ready. “Do you not love me?”

“What!?” Floored is what you were. Especially since you literally just told him you loved him back. But there was a feeling in you that could tell that there was something more to this question. Something that had probably been eating at him if his slumped posture was anything to go by.

“Of course I love you Christopher,” The use of his English name was to solidify just how serious you were. “Why would you think otherwise?”

He tapped your leg as a nervous tick before speaking, “I just…why don’t you wanna move in together?”

Oh. That’s not what you thought he would say.

“This morning I just felt like that’s what it would feel like if we lived in the same place together. That I’d be able to wake up to you by my side, bed head and everything. And my heart just felt so full in that moment.

I understand that you want your independence. It’s one of the many reasons why I love you. But seeing how you are with your co-workers, I don’t know. I guess it scared me in that maybe the reason you don’t want to move in together is cause you’re not sure about us. Which is dumb I know!”

“Oh baby…”

“I know you love me. I know you do, it’s just an insecurity I have to work with,” he continued.

“That’s right, I do love you. So very much Chan. And, for the record, it’s not that I don’t want to move in together. It’s just a matter of affording to break my lease early,” With a smile, you held your hand up to stop him from interrupting you. “Before you start, Mr. Fancypants Rich McGee, no, I don’t want you paying for it. That’s not what our relationship was built on and we’re certainly not gonna start now. I wanted to tell you this this weekend when I go over to your place, but I guess now’s a good time as any, considering. I finally have the amount necessary.”

“Wait…,” the hopeful look in his eyes was so precious to you.

“I can start packing my stuff up to move in with you.”

“Baby!”

Chan quickly climbed down from his sat position, immediately scooping you into his arms. If that didn’t show he was excited, the multitude of kisses was sure another sign of how happy he was at the news. The both of you giggling like you didn’t just have a filthy fuck session in his office.

. ⋅ ˚̣- : ✧ : – ⭒ ⊹ ⭒ – : ✧ : -˚̣⋅ .

As you walked out of Chan’s office, after double and triple checking that you looked decent enough to go back to the meeting room, you realized something immediately. Han Jisung sat red in the face at his desk and was doing everything in his power to avoid looking at the two of you. Which could only mean one thing.

Bang Christopher Chan really did lie about his office being soundproof and his assistant just heard everything that went down.

FUCK!

a/n. This in no way reflects the actual persons involved/based in this fic, nor their actual character. This is purely fiction.

© hippopotamusdreamer, est 2024. all rights reserved.

Taglist:

@elizalabs3

[rilakeila]

five times when the secret was almost revealed and when it did, where you and mattheo are secretly dating, teaser

word count 1.8k fandom harry potter pairing mattheo riddle x fem!animagus! reader warnings none notes hints at the animagus story, lowkey -3-

request i saw your post about wanting requests so anything mattheo as there’s never another content for him!!! but more specifically him with like an opposite gf!!! like she’s sweet and girly and kind!!! how do you think he’d be around her??? i turned this request into something new !

SECRECY kept your relationship with mattheo hidden from the hogwarts students. there was nothing shameful, just preferred to keep it private. truly, mattheo did not feel comfortable in having to hear comments about how hogwarts’ sweetheart ended up with the delinquent or even, the dark lord’s son (or that he was the most affectionate boyfriend, he would never hear the end of being such a smitten lover). you respected his wishes, continuing to share your secret kisses away from the public. though, it started to be impossible to keep away as time had passed on, you were certain that someone was going to catch you.

slip-up one: the late-night library study session

“it’s so nice having my girlfriend be the head girl of the school, comes with a lot of privileges, like staying out for so long,” mattheo said while procrastinating for the transfiguration test. you rolled your eyes, knowing that he said it quite often. prior to being in a relationship with him, you were a prefect, which allowed you to have a good running for head girl. you, more than likely, save him and the other slytherin boys constantly from trouble than any other task that you have around the school.

“if it means ensuring you out of trouble, i’ll continue to keep my role,” you said, looking up to see that he stopped writing down his notes, “or, you’ll be out of luck if you don’t keep studying, love.”

he pouted before flipping to the next page of his notes, “i don’t think i did this much studying before you.”

“well, if you can be on probation for delinquency, it'll be worse if you have to do it for academics. come on, your quidditch match eligibility relies on this paper otherwise you’re out for a week until the next test,” you said, leaning to peck the pout off, which instantly lifted into a small smile before resuming on your own work.

“yes ma’am,” before continuing, he pulled your chair closer to him, wrapping his arm your waist, hand resting on your hip. there was one way to heat up your face, pressing your lips into a tight line, fighting the smile. he knew that this action, even if it was reoccurring, would always make you feel giddy. the smile that you just wanted push away, he continued to write from the book, “you okay there, love?”

“of course,” you cleared your throat to maintain composure as you written in your notes. 

moments passed, a quarter left done of your notes, but what you did not notice that the boy next to you did not keep up with his work, opting to draw your side profile as well as sketching certain deconstructed parts such as just your eyes in one section, lips, even in different forms such as your smile or when you were talking with how it formed. taking a break, you looked to your side, only to see your boyfriend leaning on his elbow, sketching on the paper with other, a grin on his face. you reached out to pinch his cheek, wiggling it slightly.

he sat up, pushing the notebook closer to you, “you like it? here’s your animagus form, little kitty. and the little crescent on your cheek, and the sparkle near your eye. then, here’s you, right now, i drew big sparkle things in there because your eyes twinkle.”

“this is nice, i love it,” your finger traced around the paper, looking at each doodle. you always loved the details that he puts in every piece he has, loving all of his art, but his quick draws always had a much more special place in your heart. 

“just for you, love,” he gently tilted your chin upwards with his fingertips, his eyes fixed on your face with tenderness, savoring the moment. leaning in, lips almost touching, mattheo pulled apart quickly, which you heard footsteps, now knowing the reason of the suddenness.

you turned around to see who the additional person may have been aside from madam pince, but she was aware of your late night study sessions, despite always trying to shoo you both away. luckily, your continuance of volunteerism in the library since your fourth year, upkeeping her strict standards, gave you some leeway as well as your past prefect and current head girl positions. you were wrong in guessing who it was, seeing the disillusionment charm, you waved your wand, countering the spell, “blaise?”

your head turned, hearing soft but obvious steps, casting the counter spell, “and of course, lorenzo? what are you both doing up past hours in the library?”

“just scouting around, actually trying to get into the restricted section,” blaise nodded towards where they needed to go.

“and what about you, two? even outside of friend group hours, i feel betrayed,” lorenzo slung his arm around your shoulder, walking towards mattheo.

“we’re just studying, enzo, otherwise you’re out one player for quidditch,” you patted the hand that was slung on your shoulder before sitting down back into your seat, organizing all of the papers that were sprawled out onto the table. 

“sure, just the two of you,” blaise sat on top of the corner, looking through the notes, “or, do you have something that you both aren’t telling us, just as you were sitting a tad too close before?”

mattheo snorted before slipping blaise a small note which contained the information that snape required you to assist in helping him study, “snape’s orders.”

“an alibi, i’m next in line for tutoring, ms. head girl,” enzo raised his hand, in which you just laughed and nodded, agreeing, also catching the quick snark on mattheo’s face. 

you eyed the watch on your wrist, seeing it was reaching you and mattheo’s end of tutoring hours, meaning madam pince would be around the corner to tell you both off and for mattheo to ensure that you would reach your dormitory safely. you looked up to the boys once more, “alright, madam pince will be around at this time, as head girl, i do advise you to head out now before we all are in trouble. “

“but,”

“mattheo will get the information from the book you need tomorrow, pince has all of the books there charmed after some incident with some second years, come on,” you said.

“fine,” lorenzo whined before being smacked up his head by blaise. rubbing his hand from the harsh hit, he looked back to still see mattheo who was writing in his notebook, “come on, mattheo.”

“alright, i just need to finish this last set of words. go on without me,” he waved his hand, dismissing lorenzo. you couldn’t help notice when looking at enzo who has an amused expression, probably at how mattheo was never the one to study. sharing a look with your friend who just had a playful smirk before waving at you a goodbye, he casted the disillusionment spell. 

hearing the quiet shut of the doors of the library, you taken your seat next to your boyfriend who was just continuing his drawing of you, “you had me fooled, thinking you were actually doing your notes.”

“just to get rid of them, i always want pince to give me her permission of walking you late at night,” he smiled.

you returned the smile. though, there was a small worry that lorenzo and blaise did indeed just find out that you were dating, knowing that one of them was the gossip hound of the school. surely, he knew to keep secrets but lorenzo’s rumors would always start with a “what if so and so ended up…” and another person would ask another until the rumor ended up as being a fact due to the continuing relay to another, even if it was false news. you were more concerned for mattheo, as he truly wanted to keep the relationship a secret, as he said that he was not ready for the intrusion of others into his life. 

“hey, love.”

“yes, love?”

“do you think lorenzo knows about us? i wouldn’t want a rumor starting up or anything,” you held his free hand in both of yours, fingers massaging the back of his hand, which he truly enjoyed.

“no, we didn’t do anything, plus as long as he has some concrete evidence that rejects his hypothesis, he won’t speculate,” he placed his pen down, retrieving snape’s note that was near your corner of the table.

“okay, just making sure,” you nodded, feeling a mix of relief and nervousness. you searched for any signs of doubt or concern within mattheo’s eyes, but there was a lack of wavering, then again, there was barely anything that trembled him.

“trust me, no on-“

“you two, get to your dorms immediately. if i have to round this corner, i will deduct house points,” madam pince’s sharp voice cut through the air, making you jump even if she routinely said the same thing most nights.

“good night, madam pince,” mattheo waved his wand, cleaning both of your spaces and into each of your book bags. a rushed hum was in response, which he always waited for, as if it was his alarm clock, letting him know that he was able to leave the library. with a silent understanding, you both turned to leave the library, walking side by side towards the exit. as you stepped into the dimly lit corridor, he extended his arm to you with a soft smile, his eyes filled with warmth and affection. no matter how often this happens, your breath always caught in your throat, slipping your hands into his, fingers naturally intertwining through with his. t he electricity that always sparked between you when you touched sent a thrill through your body, and you found yourself leaning into his side as you walked, relishing the closeness.

 the silence between you was comfortable, filled with unspoken emotions that hung heavy in the air. you couldn't help stealing glances at mattheo as you walked, taking in the way his eyes sparkled in the dim light, the way his smile softened when he looked at you.

"i'll see you tomorrow in class?" mattheo asked, his voice soft and hopeful.

"of course," you replied, your heart skipping a beat at the tenderness in his tone. "good night."

you leaned in, unable to resist the urge to press a gentle kiss to his cheek, feeling a rush of warmth spread through your body at the contact. mattheo returned the gesture, his lips brushing against your forehead in a lingering caress.

"good night, love," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, before reluctantly letting your hand go, knowing that you needed to go to your respective dormitories.

even if with his certainty that there was no knowledge of your relationship and still in secrecy, there was still a bit of worry. though, just to be selfish, even for once, it would be pleasant to show a private, but not a secret of your relationship. it would have been less stress onto yourself, but whatever happened would happen. as long as it was with him.

incomplete, lmk if you

want to get tagged

in the complete fic.

[j0eyj0rdis0n]

on my hands and knees BEGGING for more poly proxies ( the THREE OF THEM.. ) and reader..

I don’t know if you wanted headcannons or fully written out so I’m going to assume you meant smut and I’m happy to give you that!

POLY PROXIES

Fandom: Creepypasta

Plot: None just straight poly with the proxies 🤭

Warnings: SMUT, handjob, anal, all three of them using you at once, cum swallowing, finishing in you, picture taking (only one), I think that’s it??

You couldn’t help the whorish moans that escaped your mouth as the three men absolutely ravished your body. You were like a drug they couldn’t quit, they kept coming back.

Over, and over, and over again.

Your whole body was on fire with pleasure, skin blotchy from the heat you felt. Each kiss and suck Toby gave across your chest and neck felt like zaps of electricity.

“F-fuck babe- You look so g-good like this. All f-fucked out on their c-cocks.” Toby practically worshiped the ground you stood on and especially your beautiful body. He loved the way your small hand worked around his cock. Your pace almost teasing.

Brian was happily under you, his mask pulled only half way so you could see his smirk as he fucked up hard into your throbbing cunt. You didn’t ever think you’d catch a break from his wrath. At this point you’d lost count of the amount of orgasms you’d been thrown through.

“Lord sweetheart, you look like you’re boutta cry again.” He said breathlessly with that oh so sweet southern accent.

Toby’s lips caught yours before you could reply. He wasn’t all that keen on sharing. His kisses were more teeth than tongue, the desperation showing more than he’d like to admit.

And Tim? Oh Tim… He was placed behind you, using your ass like he’d never get to again. His hands squeezed and groped your soft flesh, grabbing greedily, giving harsh slaps every so often. Red handprints littered your ass, Tim’s goal to make them bruise. You felt so incredibly full, with the two of their throbbing cocks in you and Toby having his way with your tender neck.

It was only when you heard Toby’s giggles is when you opened your stinging eyes to look down at him.

“Awww po-or baby’s gonna c-cry!” He taunted, licking up your cheek and pinching your nipple hard. You let out a pitiful whimper as he continued, the pinches bringing stinging pain that brought more tears to your eyes.

Tim yanked you back by your hair, practically making you break your back to look up at him as he continued his animalistic pace with a smirk. “Cry for us angel. Let’s see those pretty tears.”

That’s all it took for you to let the salty tears fall. The pain mixed with undeniable scorching pleasure was overwhelming. You knew you were close but you didn’t think you’d pull through another shaking orgasm.

“P-please- Too much-“ were the only words you could choke out through your tears.

“One more for us sweet stuff” Brian groaned out, letting his large hands travel up your thighs. “You’re doin’ so damn good. Takin’ us so well.”

He watched with half lidded eyes as your cunt sucked him in. He’d never get used to the sight, it was enough to make him lose it right then and there.

You were let go from your back breaking position just for Toby to come back and lick your tears, attaching his lips to yours passionately. His rough hand worked over your nipple, only pushing you further to the wave of an orgasm that was looming closer. His other hand helped guide your hand that was working his cock slowly. He grew impatient quickly, not a fan of the agonizingly slow pumps you gave him.

“Come on angel, come for us.” Tim huffed.

Brian’s large hands held you up by your waist, feeling the way your hole squeezed tightly around him. “Sweet girl’s so close she’s squeezin’ my cock” he chuckled, only quickening his thrusts.

“So damn full, that’s what she is. Boutta be full with our cum too.” Tim replied as he gave another harsh slap to your pretty ass.

The way they worked you over only tightened the growing knot in your stomach. Between Toby’s kisses, Brian’s thrusts, and Tim’s hands your orgasm came quick. It was like a wave washed over you as your legs shook and your body froze, your juices gushing out of your fluttering pussy.

“Take a picture Brian” Tim smirked, watching his colleague take out his camera and snap a picture of your ethereal form.

Your juices soaking his abdomen was enough for him to let go one final time, letting the camera slip from his fingers and onto the floor. He filled you full with his thick seed, your throbbing pussy practically milking it out of him.

Moments later Toby pulled your hand from his cock, hastily shoving it down your throat, making you gag as his seed filled your mouth. “Swallow.” He grunted, holding your head in place, obviously not going to let you go until you did.

“G-good girl” He stroked your hair as he let you go, watching you choke and cry.

Pulling you away from Brian and Toby, Tim slammed into you mercilessly, chasing his orgasm that was oh so close. He muttered repeated praises as he filled you up, sounding like a broken record as he did. “So good for us- Such a good girl-“

“Poor girl’s so tired” Brian held his arms out for you, letting you collapse on top of his broad chest. He played with your hair lovingly, giving gentle scratches as you got comfortable, The other two laid on either side of him, gently grabbing one of your hands for themselves.

“You w-were s-s-so good for us Y/N.” Toby said happily, kissing your knuckles.

“We’ll give you your reward tomorrow” Tim assured softly, kissing the top of your hand.

“Sleep lovely, you deserve it.” Brian whispered, watching as your eyes shut and you drifted off into well needed sleep.

[dreamingunderacloudysky]

What's your opinion on all the Jimmy enjoyers and fetish content out there?

Whew, ok, I felt like I was going to get asked this, but not THIS soon.

Ok. I'm totally fine with people liking Jimmy, he's a well written character with a complex array of issues and instincts which drive him forward as well as mysterious background for what really drove him to be in that crew. Most Jimmy enjoyers I meet are actually pretty chill for the most part. Do I like him?

Well...

Not exactly. I do believe in creative choice. People can write whatever they want, even if a lot of it I find disturbing. Jimmy's character made me actually feel upset at multiple points in the game, but thays a sign of just how humanly fucked up he's depicted. He's so human and does messed up but very human things, which makes it all feel real on an unsettling level.

The people I generally do not interact with are the people who FETISHIZE Jimmy's assault of Anya and say stuff like "She probably liked it ngl" like actually that is super gross and I really wasn't planning on bringing it up here, but years ago I myself was taken advantage of by another woman so for my case yes I cannot fathom the type of stuff people say or write with Jimmy. If someone is attracted to Jimmy, stop telling them to see a therapist (I mean, I think we all should after having played this game good lord the game messed with my psyche) while I dont agree with it and I don't understand how people can be attracted to him, it's also not my brain. They may be cringe, but they are free unless they're saying the type of comments I said earlier because they actually get off the internet.

This Fandom is very weird, and I'll admit me writing NSFW for it loops me in somewhat in a taboo spot, but I'm sorry Wrong Organ you made well written kissable polygons.

Before I get asked this next, WHY do I not write for Jimmy?

Just reread what I said earlier on how his involvement in the story, along with how Anya's played in part which hurt me in my soul and you'll understand that I personally cannot write for him without stirring up some unpleasant concepts of my past and just the general overall summary of his actions.

I'll be honest, I really don't want to write Curly either. As someone who worked in a leadership role for 8 years and take classes for my job to continue to do that Curly was a terrible leader 🙃 and made me want to bite chunks off of my keyboard like a Kit Kat. He is barely the lesser evil of Curly, and as a famous statement, I firmly believe

"Bad things happen when good people stand by"

But I will write Curly because why the hell not! I'm personally not attracted to him (first of all I'm a girl kisser, second of all we didn't see get to see him oerate pre-crash aside from playing AS him) But he's a good way to flex my writing muscles and give the masses some of my take on Curly. All the characters would be pretty fun to write for

So Jimmy enjoyers, sorry that you get harassed, but the weirdos, including the non Jimmy, fans need to keep their weird ass comments off of normal posts and not justify SA.

While I'm on this of yall want me to point out some stuff I don't like that is done with the character I'll leave a small list.

Jimmy fans... do i need to elaborate on what the weird ones do?

Some people make post SA Anya like she's a non functional human being and incapable of living and just an actual extremely dependent ball of constant sadness. Don't let her SA define her character just how SA victims aren't defined by their perpetrators. Don't romanticize abuse period

Daisuke I hear people complain about him being infantalized, but you have a bubbly character in any Fandom and they're going to babygirlify them I'm sorry it sucks for his fans but I hope I'm not writing hi that way he's just a silly man in my writing.

Swansea... I don't have much to say on it, a little strange to me that people hunger for a married man, but he's fictional so while I don't feel comfortable writing him romantically Swansea lovers can pop off hope you homies have fun!

Curly. Just the people saying he did nothing wrong. That's just cringe and honestly these are all strange pixel crushes we shouldn't be having but have them anyways so pop off to you homies too.

If anyone has comments or disagreements that's totally valid, feel free to leave them in the comments and I promise I won't bite if you don't. ☁️☁️☁️☁️

[itsgameofthronesimagines]

The Good Queen (Part 3)

(Gif not mine)

Fandom: House of the Dragon

Pairing(s): Viserys Targaryen x Fem!Reader, Alicent Hightower x Rhaenyra Targaryen, Daemon Targaryen x Rhaenyra Targaryen, Harwin Strong x Alicent Hightower, Harwin Strong x Rhaenyra Targaryen, Daemon Targaryen x Alicent Hightower, Daemon Targaryen x Harwin Strong (I won’t apologize for everyone being gay for each other)

Tag: hotd the good queen

Warning: Fluff. Angst. Time-skip. Happy ending. Age gaps. No feud. No greens or blacks. Blood & Gore. Grusome death.

Word Count: 7,011

Taglist: @gruffle1​ 

Summary: A look into Queen Y/n Hightower’s life is busy and full of love and family. But something else lingers in the dark, waiting for her.

Author’s Note: Laena still dies but under different circumstances and Aemond claims Vhagar honorably. Rhaena and Baela do not exist so everyone is proud of Aemond by his accomplishment and he doesn’t steal the right to Vhagar from anyone.

Part One - Part Two

(I do not consent my works to be reposted/copied)

130 AC

So much to do with so little time to enjoy the beautiful day, Queen Y/n Hightower makes her rounds about the castle after breaking her fast. As usual, she walks gracefully down the long hallways and winding staircases, entering the throne room to extend her greetings to her husband before starting her day. She climbs the stairs to the Iron Throne and leaves a kiss on Viserys lips before briefly exchanging their morning agendas. As usual, they speak mostly of their children. The Queen speaks of the planned events for Helaena's upcoming name day while the King mentions the many lords who have reached out to him to ask for Helaena's hand. Y/n appeared hesitant but further asked her husband to send these letters up to her chambers when he has the chance so she might look into these suitors as well.

"They may try to woo her during the celebration," he warns her lightheartedly, "Best to warn her so she is not overwhelmed."

"I shall," Y/n stands from her seat on Viserys' knee, cupping his face in her hand before she makes her departure, "I'll see you at supper."

"Hm. I'm afraid I have to take supper in the Small Council meeting tonight," the King smiles apologetically, "But you are welcome to join. I could use your sharp eyes on the matter of the meeting."

"Not tonight," Y/n sighs at the idea of another council meeting. They appear to be more crucial than naught these days, "If it would please you, my love, allow me to rummage through all the letters of liege lords addressing Helaena's hand. I'll invite Princess Rhaenyra and Lady Alicent for supper tonight in my apartments and use their opinions to narrow down the pool of suitors."

"Excellent idea," Viserys beamed, quickly grasping her hand and kissing her knuckles before she could turn away, "I wish you luck."

She descends the Iron Throne and exits the throne room, nodding to her ladies-in-waiting when she found them still in the spot where she had left them. They dutifully follow her as she expertly navigates through the long hallways of the castle, bowing her head and smiling whenever someone stopped and bowed to her in greeting. She stops in the training yard before all else and immediately spots Ser Criston Cole overseeing a training session between Aegon the Elder and his cousin, Jacaerys Strong. She glides down the steps and makes her way to the sworn shield, "What shall they be learning today, Ser Criston?"

"Mostly defensive maneuvers, Your Grace," Cole bows, but is unable to draw his eyes away from the fight in case he missed something, "Aegon has improved since his return from Oldtown. Do give your lord father my compliments. Whoever he had training the boy during his stay must have been quite exceptional."

"I shall," she finds herself repeating a second time, to her inner amusement. Her shoulders began to feel tight with the reminder of Otto Hightower.

When he first started writing letters to his eldest daughter, it was to reach out and learn about his grandchildren. Y/n should have felt relief to learn that her father was wanting to mend their relationship. Instead, she only felt this cold dread in her heart when she learned that he had only written to her and not to Alicent, who was also his daughter and had given him an equal number of grandchildren. Y/n tried to be courteous and kind to her father in any returning letter she sent, and yet each one he replied with felt more like a stone crushing her against the sea bed, despite feeling the light weight of the paper in her hands. Eventually, Lord Otto requested to host his oldest grandchild, Aegon, in Oldtown. His reasoning was for personal reasons only; to make up for lost time and congratulate Aegon on becoming a man. Otto also stated that perhaps it would be good for both Aegon and Daeron to reunite again as brothers. Y/n had hesitated before finally agreeing, despite the memories she had of her father when Aegon was first born. She remembered Lord Otto trying to force her hand, telling her how to raise her sweet, innocent son into becoming a king.

She gave her father the benefit of the doubt. That had been years ago and she agreed that Aegon deserved to see his little brother again, her own ache to see Daeron the deciding factor on this arrangement. She sent Aegon to Oldtown, promising him that it would only be for the season. Her inner demons wished to demand her eldest child to steal Daeron away as well, but forced the words down and bury them as she hugged Aegon tightly. Now Aegon has finally returned -and not with Daeron- just before Helaena's name day. The Queen watched her son easily defend himself against Lord Jacaerys' advances, feeling proud and yet in turmoil over how mature he's become. Her children really were growing up before her eyes.

She nods to Ser Criston, "I'm sure he would be proud to hear you say that, ser knight. Excuse me."

"Your Grace."

Next, she makes her way to the gardens, taking a moment to stand in the warm sunlight with the soft breeze brushing through her hair like a loving touch. The Queen takes her time winding through the maze of flowers and trimmed hedges until she comes across the gazebo stationed at the center of all the plants. Her sister, Lady Alicent Strong, is seated under the shade of the gazebo, Little Aegon in her lap while Little Viserys crawls around at her feet, her hand gently grazing the woman sitting beside her.

Princess Rhaenyra, heavily pregnant with her third child, is the first to notice Y/n when she neared the gazebo, and smiles at her stepmother, "Good morning, Your Grace."

Alicent looks up and immediately finds Y/n, only pulling her hand away from Rhaenyra when she noticed the Queen's handmaidens trailing behind her. Y/n nods as she approached the two women, "It certainly is, Princess," her fingers briefly push a strand of Alicent's hair out of her face before leaning down and kissing her cheek in greeting, "Ali. Jacaerys is faring well in his training, I see."

"If only he was doing well in his studies," Alicent quips with a gentle smile as she stares up at her elder sister, who takes Aegon from her arms and rests him on her hip, "What brings you here?"

"I am here to invite the two of you to a private supper tonight," Y/n tickles Aegon the Younger under his chin, smiling as he squealed with laughter, though it doesn't reach her eyes as she spoke of her troubles, "I have letters from various lords of the realm who wish to wed Helaena and I could use your help reading through them all, as well as getting a second and third opinion."

"Of course," Alicent beams, although Rhaenyra doesn't seem as thrilled.

"Helaena is still too young to be thinking about marriage," she immediately replies, a frown cutting through her beautiful Valyrian features. She is distracted by her thoughts, however, when Little Viserys pulls himself up onto his chubby feet using her skirts. Her hand brushes his silver hair back, the toddler cooing under her attention.

"She's near one-and-twenty, Rhaenyra," Y/n appeared downcast, even as she smiled down at her stepdaughter and squeezed her shoulder in comfort, "You were even younger. We all were. We've been holding this back for long enough. We can't keep her forever."

The Queen knelt down to the princess' round stomach, peering up at Rhaenyra with an encouraging twinkle in her eye, "Besides, pretty soon you'll have a daughter of your own to fret over."

Rhaenyra faintly smiled, running a hand over her stomach even as clouds formed in her eyes. She had always wanted a sister and finally got what she wanted when her father married Y/n and they bore Helaena. Rhaenyra was always so protective of her little half-sister, even more so than the brothers, "You speak in confidence. And yet Alicent believes I'm having a boy."

"You look no different than when you carried Little Aegon and Viserys," Alicent comments in defense of her opinion when Y/n glanced over to her.

"We'll make wages tonight then, at dinner," Y/n smirked at her sister, briefly glancing back at Rhaenyra and winking. The Queen sets Aegon down next to his brother and stands up straight again, nodding to the other two, "Until then, my sweets."

"Good day, Your Grace," Rhaenyra chimes while Y/n disappears from the gazebo, her ladies keeping their heads low as they follow her.

She trails through the gardens with her usual company in tow, wishing to waste a little time if it meant she could enjoy the lovely, quiet day. That is until the peace is suddenly interrupted by the loud, high-pitched laughter of a small child. Looking around, Her Grace tried pinpointing the laughter, which now followed shouts of disapproval, until she discovers Little Joffrey Strong, the small boy running through the gardens while being chased by his septa, dark curls bouncing as he sprinted. Y/n laughs under her breath and decides not to intervene, knowing that not even she could save her little nephew from his strict teacher. The Queen shushes her handmaids when they all began to giggle at the sight, and with a smile, directs them to exit the gardens quietly until they are out of sight of the poor, winded, septa. The ladies all bow to their queen and go on about their day, leaving Y/n alone to her thoughts as she walks back into the castle.

The library is the next stop on her to-do list, allowing the guards to open the heavy doors for her before entering the grand room, full of books from top to ceiling. However, she didn't find herself alone as she originally thought. At the nearest table were none other than her son, Aemond and Lucerys Strong, playing a competitive game of cyvasse. Both young men look up at the sound of the library doors opening and stand to greet her when they recognized her face.

"Mother," Aemond thinly smiles, his eye lowering in respect.

"Who is winning?" She smirks as she glides across the floor to join them, her fingers pinching the sleeve of Aemond's tunic as she practically stood in the shadow of his tall form.

"Currently me, Your Grace," Luke's eyes sparkle mischievously, his smile only broadening when Aemond directs a small glare at him.

Y/n rolls her lips to try to retain the growing smile of amusement before crossing over to the board game, peering over either side of the divider so she can see both sides of their placements. Turning and walking away, she calls over her shoulder, "Careful, nephew. If he's smart, Aemond can defeat you in two moves."

She hears scuffling and squawks of surprise from behind her as she disappeared beyond the bookcases, smiling to herself. She travels through the small aisles between shelves until she finds what she's looking for, picking up a book to her liking and dusting off the worn cover. Tucking the leather book under her arm, she makes her way back through the maze of books until she stumbles across her son and nephew again. Y/n ruffles Luke's hair, earning another squawk of indignant from him and causing Aemond to hum in amusement under his breath, much similar to his mother. Y/n beams and walks out of the library and onto her next destination.

Walking back up the winding stairs to reach the floor of her daughter's chambers was an easy feat, having gone the same way for years since Helaena's birth. Today, however, Y/n's feet felt heavy as she inched closer to the princess' room. Her steps felt like lead by the time she reached her daughter's door, knocking and announcing herself before entering.

"My heart?" Y/n called into the room as she shut the door behind her.

Helaena had her knees up to her chest, lounging over her couch by the window, heavily focused on the embroidery in her hands. Y/n walked closer and recognized the pattern to be a dragonfly. The mother smiled as she goes to sit in the open space of her daughter's couch, relaxing her regal posture as she leaned back against the cushions, sighing in exhaustion as she watches Helaena work.

Their days together are often spent like this, in silence but in comfort. Helaena isn't fond of loud noises, touches, or even conversation, so Y/n respects her boundaries and tends not to force her daughter into such situations unless absolutely necessary. This is why guilt and shame settled uncomfortably in the Queen's gut, the weight of letters regarding a future husband for her lovely daughter heavy before Y/n could even read them herself. Even though she had not seen the letters in person yet, they still lingered in the back of her mind, dreading the conversation that will have to happen, and the celebrations of her name day that Helaena will have to attend.

"Has your uncle stopped by for your lessons?" Y/n suddenly asked, realizing that she had not seen Daemon at all this morning.

Helaena paused in her ministrations but continues to stare at her embroidery as she answered, "He left early. Kostōba vali emagon kostōba ondos." [Strong men have strong hands]

Though the Queen herself was not fluent in High Valyrian, she has spent enough time in the company of Daemon and Rhaenyra to catch a few words. Y/n tilts her head, suspicious, "Does 'kostōba' mean 'strong?'"

Helaena only nods as she continues her work, unaware of the playful roll of her eyes her mother presents. Y/n sinks further into the lounge chair, pinching the bridge of her nose. One of these days, she'll have to reprimand her brother-in-law for leaving his niece and depriving her of Valyrian lessons only so he could sneak off with Ser "Breakbones" Strong.

"My daughter's mother tongue should be more important than the need to stick your tongue down Ser Harwin's throat," Y/n could already hear her own lecture in her head, to which she can imagine Daemon's sly smirk gleaming down at her in response.

"Have you seen Ser Harwin's throat, dear sister?"

Y/n scoffs out loud and had the decency to appear bashful when she realized that Helaena had heard her. She flashed her daughter an apologetic smile when the princess looked up, but it slowly faded once Helaena looked back down, the Queen was sorely reminded of the main topic of today's events. Sighing, Y/n reached a hand out to Helaena, "My dear, may I touch you?"

Helaena immediately went stiff as a board, to which Y/n retracted her hand, "Okay, I'm sorry," she whispered, guilt now evident in her eyes, not that Helaena had noticed as she continues with her embroidery. It only made her mother feel worse, the woman who once loved her innocence but now felt saddened by it. Helaena is a woman grown now, and it was still hard for Y/n to wrap her head around. How can something so pure grow up so fast? Just trying to picture her daughter in the care of a man whom she has never met frightened her; haunted her even. Y/n, as Queen, understands that this is the way of things and no matter how hard she tried, there are just some things far beyond her control, like her daughter's impending marriage. It will happen eventually, whether Y/n Hightower likes it or not.

Originally, she came to Helaena to talk about these matters but decided she wanted her child to remain innocent just a little bit longer. Instead, Y/n set the book from the library down on the table across from the couch and slid it over to Helaena, "This was a book that I read years ago... before I married your father. It's about these rare butterflies native to the islands of Naath. They carry a disease that is deadly to anyone who isn't born and bred from their natural habitats," Y/n huffs in mirth, mostly to herself, "I remember that imagery kept me awake at night, but I thought this would be more to your liking."

Helaena had paused her embroidery upon her mother's explanation. The princess peers over to the book with faint interest and reaches out to caress the symbol of the butterfly engraved into the front cover, "Thank you, Mother."

Y/n beams, feeling her heart skip a beat at the sound of her most proud title. Even as her children grow into adults, she still feels her heart melt every time they call her by her true name. Aegon says it as if he mocks it, but in a playful way. Aemond says it with respect and admiration and with a hint of a smile. Helaena says it softly, like a butterfly's wing. And Daeron...

The Queen quickly shuts her thoughts down and rises from the couch, patting the cushion closest to Helaena's foot, "I'll leave you to it then. If you miss dinner, I'll make sure a meal is sent up to you."

She moves around the furniture and heads toward the door.

"Mother."

Y/n looks back, smiling patiently as she waits for Helaena to continue.

The young princess doesn't look up from her new book, speaking in riddles as she often does. But today, her riddle felt haunting, almost like a warning, "A sire wishes to breathe fire. Fire burns to skin, and his eldest breeds it."

Puzzled as she often is by Helaena's riddles, Y/n tries not to let it bother her. Over the years, she had learned to stop asking Helaena what she means and has stopped trying to understand her. Sometimes, even Helaena appears confused by what her own words mean. When she started saying these riddles, Viserys took it as a sign that she was a dragon dreamer, much like himself. Daemon had rolled his eyes and had started an argument with his brother for the sake of an argument, so Y/n never try to investigate further what her husband meant.  

Instead of asking her to reiterate, Y/n only nods to Helaena before leaving the room, taking a longer route toward her own apartments so that she might have a little more to walk and think alone. The time it takes for her to get to her chambers is peaceful and the hallways are empty except for the occasional maid walking in or out of rooms to fetch or retrieve clothes or food. Ser Harrold Westerling is waiting outside of Y/n's room when she arrives, and after he opens the door for her, the Queen turns back to him, "You may leave, Ser Harrold. Please see to it that no one bothers the Princess Helaena while she reads."

"At once, Your Grace," Harrold bows and marches down the hall, and Y/n closes the door behind her.

A late afternoon nap was in order, but Y/n knew better than to try when she still had so much to do. Looking around, she found the stacks of letters she had asked the King for and crossed the room to the table. She picks up one of the letters, inspected the contents, and made out the name Prince Qoren Martell.

"Absolutely not," Y/n found herself talking out loud, laughing at the gall of House Martell. She decided that all suitors she didn't approve of will have their letters burned immediately so her husband would not see them, lest he tried to marry their daughter off without her knowledge. She sauntered over to the hearth and watched the letter burn in the small flames, still amused but faintly disgusted at the idea of Helaena being sent to Dorne. The embers of the hearth appeared to mock her, the andirons; the two tall bracket spikes supporting the logs from falling into the room were shaped suspiciously like a Sunspeare. Y/n doesn't try to think about how her andirons were probably forged in Dorne and instead focused on watching the letter burn.

She hears rustling behind her and turned to face the maid she expected to find. Instead, a knife is pressed into her neck, and a hand grips tightly onto her arm. Y/n lets out a squeak of shock, reflexes kicking in as her free hand tries to push the knife away from her. The attacker is male, close to her own height, and reeked of filth. He doesn't demand or restrain her, instead, he speaks in grunts and growls as he fights with every intention of killing her.

"HELP! GUARDS!" Y/n screams at the top of her lungs once her brain had caught up with her body, still trying to push the dagger out of the way. He pushed back with equal strength and determination, with Y/n's own adrenaline turning quickly into fear and causing her arms to tremble. Her breaths quicken as she can feel herself slowly go into shock, limbs heavy and slowly giving into the weight of the knife. At one point, she tried to pull away and run when her legs began to feel like jelly, but her attacker had a hold of one of her arms, so she had no choice but to continue to fight for her life. As they both spun in this twisted dance, Y/n quickly realized that the hearth now stood directly behind her attacker. Sucking in a deep breath with every bit of strength she had left, she shoved the man hard, even trying to place her foot behind his to trip him for added measure.

The man falls, knife sliding like butter down Y/n's forearm in the descent. Before the assassin could place his hands behind him to stop his fall, his head hits the mantle above the hearth and he crumbles in pain, forgetting to fight against gravity as his body drops into the hearth. His neck, unfortunately, lands right on top of one of the andiron spikes, spearing through flesh and bone. He spits out blood, gurgling, choking on the red liquid as he slowly realizes he was trapped with his head sticking directly into the flames. As he spat out blood, his whole body convulsed and writhed in response to his entire head beginning to catch fire, unable to escape with his neck completely skewered onto the spike. His eyebrows turned to ash, and his skin began to blister and melt, his body twitched and kicked for freedom, even as the heat of the flames forced his skin to sizzle and pop like a boar on a spit. The smell was unbearable as Y/n quickly steps away, only to fall to her knees on the floor when she found no strength left, tears uncontrollably rolling down her face. All she could do was cling to her injured arm and watch, horrified, as her attacker's body slowly stopped fighting, going limp as the fire somehow burned brighter. The Queen tried gasping for air, her entire body shaking out of fear and pain just as the doors burst open to reveal the Kingsguard.

"My Queen!" Harrold Westerling had returned, immediately running to Y/n's side while his men inspect the scene before them. Ser Harrold guides her to the nearest furniture and inspects Her Majesty's injuries while a maester was called forward. Between the bustling of the guards and the shouting involved, other residents of the castle began to stir with all this commotion.

The first to arrive was Alicent, with Rhaenyra slowly following her in her condition. Alicent looked around the room, horrified by the man lying dead in the fireplace before she scanned the apartments and quickly found her sister, "Y/n!"

She rushed over to the Queen, gathering her up in her arms as they both wept in fright and relief. Rhaenyra excused Ser Harrold from attending Y/n so that she may sit on the other side of her stepmother and hold her close. The Grand Maester finally arrived and quickly made good, efficient work on the Queen's arm as Daemon marched into the room, sneering at the scene of the crime. He looked as though he wished to spit onto the dead body before releasing his anger elsewhere.

"Who was meant to be on watch here?! Who failed to protect the Queen?!"

"It was me, Prince Daemon," Ser Harrold bowed his head in shame.

Daemon only takes two steps towards the knight before Y/n finally found her words, even as she stumbles over them, "N-No, Daemon! It was not his fault! I... I... I ordered him to go tend to Helaena. I made him leave his station."

Her brother-in-law relents after a while of the two of them staring down one another, stepping away from Ser Harrold and moving to stand behind the three women on the couch, "Has my brother been informed? Is someone with him?"

"Ser Criston is guarding the King, my prince. He's on his way."

"Mother?" Aegon calls out from the doorway, only walking into the room when the sea of knights part for him to see the Queen alive and well. Jace also walks in with him, leading his father, Ser Harwin, to inspect the scene for himself.

"I did not realize I was hosting in my chambers," Y/n muttered under her breath, wincing when the maester added yet another stitch to the cut. However, her irritation melts away when her eldest son approached her, reaching out to him with her free hand, "I'm alright, my sweet. Have you seen your brother and sister?"

"Your daughter is safe in her room, Your Grace," Ser Harrold cut in, "I left a guard with her."

"And Aemond? Last I saw, he was in the library with Lucerys."

"I'll go get them," Harwin volunteered after a pleading gaze from his lady-wife Alicent. He quickly heads towards the door only to stop short and bow as Viserys finally enters, his cane trembling in support of him.

"What is the meaning of this?" The King demands as everyone bows in his presence, all except his family members sitting on or surrounding the couch. Viserys turns to his family, inspecting each of their expressions before settling on his queen, "And why is my wife bleeding?"

"There was an assassination attempt, Your Grace," Ser Harrold quickly reports with a ramrod back. Ser Harwin finally leaves the room after nodding to his father and Ser Criston when they entered the Queen's chambers. Hand of the King, Lord Lyonel Strong, steps up to stand beside the King, appalled and worried.

"An assassin? How is this possible?" He questions.

"I did not recognize his face," Y/n answers, her voice now stronger with her family surrounding her. Her back straightens and she now looks onto Lord Lyonel with the fierceness of a queen once more, "I pride myself in knowing every staff member in my employment, and I have never seen that man before in my life."

"It will be hard to identify him now, Your Grace," Ser Harrold continues to address Viserys while also moving aside to show the King the horrifying sight of the death. Viserys' eyes widen at the body stuck in the hearth from the neck up. He looks at his wife and then back to the body, affronted and speechless. In this time of the King taking it all in, Ser Harwin returns with Prince Aemond and Lord Lucerys, both young men striding across the room to join their respective family members. Aemond stands beside his older brother, standing over their mother as he inspects her appearance with only his single eye. He didn't speak a word, and yet confessed he was afraid by looks alone.

Alicent felt the need to stand and pace, and by doing so, caught a glimpse of the dead body and noticed, to her horror, his attire, "He wears our house colors," turning back to her older sister, Alicent recognized the equal shock spreading over Y/n's face, "Could this man be from Oldtown?"

Y/n's shoulders fall, a faint look of acceptance written in her sad eyes, "If so... then there could only be one prime suspect who resides there."

The room is filled with mutters of both surprise and indifference, depending on who you talk to. Some, like the Kingsguard, are appalled by this revelation, some, like Daemon, know it to be true and their eyes darken. Others, like Lord Lyonel and Lady Alicent, are in a state of disbelief.

Alicent even voices her disbelief as she shakes her head, "Father would never do something like this. Why would he want you dead if you're married to the King?"

"Because Father's wish wasn't for me to marry the King, it was for his blood to one day sit on the Iron Throne," Y/n stated boldly, loudly, to make sure everyone in the room heard it and accept it, "When I pledged my loyalty to Rhaenyra's right as Viserys' heir, Father's plans were ruined."

Rhaenyra squeezed Y/n's knee in comfort and the room stirred with this bit of information. Viserys grinds his teeth while glaring at the floor, enraged by the gall of his former Hand.

"A sire wishes to breathe fire. Fire burns to skin, and his eldest breeds it."

All eyes turn to the door of the room, where Princess Helaena now stood, half hiding away as all eyes turn to her. Y/n's worries all float away as her face softens at the sight of her daughter, smiling in encouragement, "Yes... that's what you meant, my heart. You tried to warn me."

"If Father is responsible for this attack, then he risks himself becoming a traitor to the crown," Alicent interrupts, her voice low in anger, "He should be punished immediately."

Viserys huffs out a large, enraged sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose, "Maester. Once you are done attending to the Queen, please inspect the body. I will have the Kingsguard bring the corpse down to the dungeons and you may meet them there."

"Of course, Your Grace."

"Ser Harrold," Viserys broadens his voice, the man in question straightening to attention at the power of it, "I demand the arrest of Lord Otto Hightower. Send out a regiment to Oldtown to obtain him and bring him back to King's Landing."

"Your Grace," Ser Harrold bows and vacates the room.

"Ser Criston," Viserys turns to the younger knight, "Remain outside the Queen's room tonight."

"At once, Your Grace."

"Half of you bring the body down to the dungeons," the old man orders the remaining Kingsguard, "The rest of you follow me. I will summon the court and address the crime at hand."

"You mean to warn them of your interrogation into their treachery?" Daemon questions with a sly glare, appalled.

"Treachery?" Viserys appeared affronted at his younger brother, scoffing in disbelief.

"Someone inside the castle must have helped, my love," Y/n decided to cut in before another spat between brothers could begin within her chambers, "I do not believe my father acted alone in this attack. I believe he had help from someone on the inside. Only someone with the proper knowledge of the castle and my whereabouts could have instructed the assassin on where to go and when to strike. No doubt whoever this traitor is had hired the attacker using Lord Otto's coin."

The maester had finished Y/n's stitches and stood to instruct the Kingsguard on how to remove the body without tampering with it. Roughly five Kingsguard managed to lift the corpse off the sharp andiron and pull it out of the fire without distressing the skull from its shoulders. The Queen keeps her eyes fixed on her husband, refusing to even glimpse at the body of her attacker. Viserys former dismissal relents, his shoulders slouching as he nods in agreement. The body is removed from Y/n's chambers and with it follows a parade of Kingsguard along with the Grand Maester. Viserys waited for them all to leave before also exiting with Lord Lyonel, mentioning under his breath of a secret council meeting.

The room grows silent, the rest of the royal family sitting uncomfortably, unnerved by the situation. Y/n's mind is buzzing, her thoughts running from her attacker... to Oldtown, to her father, and then to Daeron. Dread freezes in her chest, worry for her youngest child taking place.

"Daemon," Y/n stands up, feeling the strength of her legs again as she rounds the couch in a flurry of skirts, stepping up to her good brother. She makes sure to stare directly up into his eyes, unwavering, as she carefully spoke her next words, "I wonder if you would be so kind as to take your dragon to Oldtown and bring me back my son?"

Mischief sparkled dimly in Daemon's war-aged eyes, a corner of his lips slowly turned up as he feigns innocence with the tilt of his head, "Not by horse, Your Grace? Surely, you wouldn't want your lord father to feel insulted by the mere threat of a dragon."

A playful taunt that she would normally meet, but the Queen's mind remains fixed on her baby boy. Her words are blunt and powerful compared to the stutter she had possessed earlier, "Perhaps I would like him to feel insulted by the mere presence of your company."

She leans into her brother-in-law's space, taking both of her hands and gripping onto one of his forearms. She lowers her voice so that only he could hear the rest, "Go. I don't care what you do, or how you do it, just bring me back my son alive."

He schooled his features, emotions neutral while firmly nodding once down to her, "Yes, Your Grace."

Daemon breaks from her hold on him and cross to the door before Aemond began to follow him, "I'll accompany you, Uncle."

Y/n quickly steps towards her second son, reaching for him, "I do not wish that, Aemond--

"It's alright, dear sister," she turns to Daemon's voice, "Vhagar and Caraxes will definitely be a sight your father will remember for the rest of his miserable years... or whatever time he has left."

The grave promise in his tone may have felt intimidating to some, but it was strangely a comfort to the Queen. Aemond grasps her elbow in comfort, forcing her to look up at him. Glancing between her son and Daemon, she eventually surrenders with a stern expression as she narrows her gaze onto Aemond, "Fine. But you do what Daemon says and you do not fight. Promise me."

"I promise, Mother," Aemond whispers gently to her, "I'll bring Daeron home for you."

He pulls out of his mother's grip and saunters over to join his uncle at the door. Daemon nods to Rhaenyra before exiting from her sight. Aemond takes one look back at his family, narrowing his sight onto his older brother. He tilts his head in question and Aegon only shakes his head in rejection. He will not join the hunt. Aemond nods with understanding, a silent conversation only two brothers can share, before he, too, leaves. Aegon turns back to his mother, dutifully placing himself at her side, "What would you have me do, Mother?"

"Stay with Helaena in her chambers tonight," she instructs him with a warm smile, cupping his face in her hands, meeting his eyes as they stood the same height, "I would feel comforted knowing neither of you would be left alone for the time being."

"We can all stay together, Aunt," Jace mentions with a smile of reassurance, "All the children. We'll have the wet nurses bring Little Aegon and Viserys to Princess Helaena's room and we can keep each other company until we know everything is safe again."

"I'll go find Joffrey," Luke volunteers, springing up and disappearing from the room.

"Very well," Y/n laughs under her breath, amused by Luke's lack of courtesy before gently patting the side of Aegon's face, "Will that please you, my dear? Will you and Jace watch over your siblings and cousins until we apprehend the people involved in this attack?"

"We'll make it a celebration, Mother," Aegon comforts her, "As to not worry the smaller ones."

"Thank you, my sweet child," Y/n whispers, feeling lighter when she watches the remainder of the children leave, though it was getting harder and harder to recognize them as children when the older ones are nearly fully grown and so responsible.

The room remains occupied by Y/n, Alicent, Rhaenyra, and Ser Harwin, the latter noticing the way the Queen chewed on her bottom lip while in thought as she began pacing the room, "What is it?"

"I wish to know who among our court would want me dead, and if their intentions have any motive behind hiring my attacker."

"If the assassin had lived, we could have questioned him," Harwin had commented.

"Not likely," Queen Y/n shook her head, "The maester may confirm this, but I believe the attacker's tongue might have been cut out prior to assaulting me. I remember he never spoke a word, only making pained noises and grunting. Whoever helped him into the castle was more careful than my father. Whoever they are, they covered their tracks."

~~~~~~~~~

It was well into the next day and yet none of them left Y/n's side. They had all stayed up the entire night, debating on what to do next as the Queen anxiously waited for news from Oldtown. To try and distract her, both Alicent and Rhaenyra offered to assist in looking through the letters asking for Helaena's hand in marriage. The three women had done so until morning, with Harwin standing guard inside the room and Ser Criston guarding outside of it.

Ser Criston had yet to be informed of Daemon and Aemond's return when they all heard the familiar roars of Caraxes and Vhagar flying overhead, even shaking the floor of Y/n's chambers. The Queen abruptly stood from her chair, running to her balcony to spot the two dragons for herself. However, they had flown directly to the Dragonpit and they were now too far for Y/n to see who sat on top of their mounts. Anxious to see the riders with her own two eyes, the Queen sprinted out of her chambers, barely acknowledging the others shouting her name behind her. She knew for a fact that Ser Harwin and Criston were running after her, but Alicent and Rhaenyra's voices faded away, not following Y/n, most likely because of the princess' round stomach.

Y/n paid no mind to courtesy or manners as she ran through the halls of the castle, not even nodding her head whenever a servant or lord stopped to bow in greeting her. She even kicked off her shoes, grace be damned, so that she may pick up her skirts and take two steps at a time down the winding staircases.

By the time she ordered guards to open the doors of the Red Keep, the front gates were slowly rising. Y/n bounded down the steps of the courtyard, finally stopping to catch her breath as she anxiously waits for whoever to come through. Daemon entered first, followed by his nephew. Aemond, however, was occupied with another silver-haired individual, the older brother playfully shoving a younger boy forward.

Although upon looking at him, Y/n could hardly describe him as a boy. Daeron, and the age of six and ten, was technically a man grown, though he could never possibly reach the same height as Aemond or Daemon. He always kept his traditional Targaryen hair short, at least to his shoulders, and Y/n's eyes briefly squinted at the green-colored apparel her youngest son wore before quickly forgetting about it, her smile uncomfortably stretching as her eyesight began to blur.

Daeron had kept his gaze on the Queen, even as the front gates closed behind them. The courtyard was still until the young prince stepped forward, his own smile smaller than Y/n's but it was one of relief and shyness, "Hello, Mother."

She broke after that, huffs of laughter under her breath as joyful tears ran down her face. Y/n opened up her arms and Daeron dutifully fell into them, hiding into her shoulder as his mother hugged him tightly, shaking with relief.

~~~~~~~~~

"Has Daeron comfortably moved back in?" Viserys asked his wife that following night, both of them sitting at the corner of the Small Council table, alone.

"Yes. Although I wouldn't be surprised if we found him in one of his sibling's rooms the next morning," Y/n smiled fondly behind the lip of her wine glass, "Aemond said that he was thrilled to be coming home. Apparently, he hated Oldtown."

"And your father? What has become of him?"

Y/n's smile falls, immediately avoiding her husband's gaze as she carefully swirls the wine in her goblet, watching the small whirlpool instead of the King's reaction, "I don't know. I didn't bother to ask."

Viserys sighed, all too well acquainted with Daemon's temper and his opinion of Lord Otto, "Well, my men will be there in a few days and they will make do with what is left of Otto Hightower."

The Queen sets her goblet on the table and leaned back in her chair, drumming her fingers against the arms, "Perhaps Daemon chose mercy. Perhaps he wished to surprise us and soon the Kingsguard will bring my father back alive and whole."

It was a comforting thought, but Viserys only huffed in amusement, "Knowing my brother, I wouldn't get your hopes up, my dear."

They both laugh from their chests, even if there wasn't much mirth behind it. They settle back into a comfortable silence again, while a thought comes to Viserys' mind. It pleases him, and he outwardly shows with the broad, toothless smile he gifts his wife, "You know... even though you're kind and caring, you're also fierce and harsh. Those are tremendous qualities, my love, that not many can possess. Did you know what the smallfolk call you? The Good Queen. My grandmother, Queen Alysanne, was also nicknamed the Good Queen."

Her curious expression slowly melts into a fond smile, allowing Viserys to continue as he sets down his own wine goblet, "It's an honorable title, perhaps more honorable than just being a King or Queen. It goes to show that you are well-loved and you are good at what you do... I often wonder what would happen to this kingdom and this family without you, especially after nearly losing you last night."

Y/n's heart squeezes in her chest, touched by her husband's words. Eyebrows furrowed and lips turned up, the Queen looked over at Viserys with sympathy as she reached her hand over to grasp his, holding it tight, "Best not to dwell on it, my King."

~~~~~~~~~

A/N: It took me an embarrassing long time to realize I was spelling ‘Jacaerys’ wrong. I blame Rhaenyra for giving her son such a difficult name.

I hope you’ve enjoyed! This will likely be the last part of ‘The Good Queen’ since I don’t think it really needs to be a series. It’s bad enough that I have three other series that need updating. Please leave a request in my pm or ask box!

Inspiration for this chapter HERE

[griffonsgrove]

General Dating Headcanons | Dr. Flug

Dr. Flug X GN!Reader

fandom: Villainous/Villainos words: 1457 cw: none!! just cute tooth-rotting fluff!

a/n: aaa!! following the theme with villainous, I HAD to do our favorite scientist!! Also I'm open for requests!! I'd love to see what yall would send in!!

(Platonic): 

Dr. Flug was the one initially responsible for hiring a new employee for the organization after he had groveled at Black Hat’s feet, begging for an assistant to help lighten his workload.

Reluctantly, Black Hat agreed, but not without scaring the daylights out of the poor doctor first.

Flug thanked the high heavens.

And thus began the search for a new assistant, he sent out multiple ads and flyers, and in little to no time, there was a flood of applicants. Having to sift through each applicant only added even more stress to his ever-growing mountain of work. Most of them didn't really seem to stick out.

That was until he got to yours.

He wasn't quite sure what drew him to your application, maybe it was your astounding track record, accomplishments, and references, or maybe it was because he thought your appearance was pleasing to the eye, something about the gleam in your eyes told him that you were a reasonable, logical and pleasant person to be around.

Which is exactly how you ended up at the front gates of the manor, ready for an interview.

Of course, the first person you met was the doctor himself, he had to disable the alarm system to the manor before letting you in. It’s there that he gives a very brief, albeit awkward introduction.

He unfortunately doesn’t socialize much. 

Everything about his energy, to his stature just screamed nervous wreck. It's from there that he leads you to the Lord’s Office. Surprisingly the interview went well!! If getting demeaned and thrown insults was a norm. But! You got the job!

Now you’re in Flug’s hands, you follow alongside him as he leads you to his lab, listing off all the responsibilities he wanted you to be in charge of some of them being: Organizing files and client paperwork, taking calls from new clients and scheduling appointments, also taking customer reviews, and some minor tidying and organization.

And based on the state of his lab you had a LOT of work to do…

I know some people think Flug is an anxious mess 24/7 but that could not be further from the truth. He’s actually quite egotistical and snarky from time to time, and of course a know-it-all.

He's like the “erm actually ☝️ 🤓” guy in physical form.

IS NOT afraid to correct you over minor errors. He’s very particular about how his things are organized in his lab. He likes to call it his organized chaos. So, if anything gets misplaced, he will get snippy or irritable. 

SO..as long as you inform him of how you do things and WHERE you put them, then all is good!

Overtime as you work alongside him though, he genuinely does start to appreciate the work that you do, he's pleasantly surprised when he finds that all his files and blue prints have been organized alphabetically and by color, or that his tools had been rearranged neatly on his workbench by size and shape, and overall his lab was so much cleaner and tidy than he ever could imagine it to be.

No surprise here but, the doctor is AWFUL at taking care of himself.

Which is why you step in to do small little gestures to help him out.

Whether it be bringing him another cup of coffee or making up a small snack for him to eat throughout the day, he even noticed you had draped his lab coat over him when he fell asleep at his desk one night.

He had to admit he wasn't quite used such small acts of kindness; it was a foreign feeling to him.

Did I also mention he’s tired like 24/7. Let this poor man sleep!! 😭

Believe it or not, he’s grown to quite enjoy your company, maybe it was your relaxed nature, but he felt somewhat at ease whenever you were around.

You’ve both actually held some decent conversations from time to time, both sharing your interests that lead into a ramble about his favorite airplane models.

(Romantic):

His confession was actually quite a funny story, and he wasn't even the one to do it! It was 5.0.5 surprisingly. The sweet blue bear wasn't blind, he began to notice that his papa would longingly stare at you, that he would mumble to himself in his sleep, secret confessions he would never dare say consciously. So, the bear came up with a little plan.

5.0.5 loves to draw, Flug practically keeps every drawing he’s ever given him. He decided that he’d make a love note, from Flug to You. He spends a generous amount of time on it, putting such care into the cute little card, and when he’s deemed it perfect enough, he drops it off to you, happily growling.

You're taken by surprise at first, but then you open up the heart shaped card covered in glitter and are pleased to find an adorable childlike drawing of you and Flug, surrounded by a bunch of pink and red hearts. How sweet!

When you confront the doctor in his lab, showing him the card, he flushes, and at first denies such feelings, slightly embarrassed that his fuzzy son was the one to do it instead of him. It’s then that he decides there's no going back and spills out everything to you.

Which is why he’s shocked when you tell him you reciprocate his feelings. What?? Him?? Really????

Things start if really awkward btw, the doctor has been without physical contact for so long that WASNT being beaten down by his boss, that he honestly forgot what it was like to experience affection, aside from the crushing hugs that 5.0.5 would give him.

He’s very fidgety, doesn't quite know what to do with his hands, where to put them or how you’ll respond to his touch.

Please give him a hug :(

He’s also very respectful of your boundaries, as you are with him, he’s not quite comfortable taking the bag off his head, which you don't mind in the slightest.

Things seem to continue almost as normally, but the two of you spend more and more time with each other, taking your breaks together, having lunch and spending your evening time hanging out when neither one of you are slammed with work. He quite enjoyed having movie nights with you, the sci-fi films are always his favorite btw. He heavily critiques the machines and inventions.

You both try to keep your relationship on the down low, Black Hat would blow a gasket if he found out. Demencia on the other hand was a huge tease. She frequently mocked the two of you, mostly Flug, however. You’d stick up for him of course and tease her right back, much to the doctor's surprise.

Queue the heart eyes.

Dr. Flug expresses his affection through small, thoughtful gestures, like leaving little notes of encouragement or surprising you with inventions tailored to your interests.

Speaking of gift giving, he prefers to hand make your gifts. His ideology is that there's no point in getting you a meaningless gift that you’ll throw out in a couple of weeks, so why not make you a meaningful one that you can make your life easier???

Which btw he's VERY observant, it's actually quite endearing from time to time, and he takes note of all your special interests, favorite foods, etc.

Mans is touch-starved. Sorry I don't make the rules. 

PLEASE HOLD HIM. 

He’s pretty hesitant to touch at first, but the second he gets a feel for physical affection he's latching onto you like a koala-bear. He likes holding your hand, his hands are surprisingly soft underneath his gloves. 

When you’re both hidden away in the evening from prying eyes, is when you can finally cuddle and be more affectionate with each other. SPOIL HIM PLEASE.

You become one of his biggest supporters, encouraging him and giving him the long-deserved praise, he aches for. When he’s with you, he’ll admit that you have substantially helped boost his ego and confidence which really pays off in his work. Not that Black Hat would ever give him the satisfaction.

Overall, Dr. Flug really is a sweetheart on the inside, especially with those he's grown to love and care about and getting him to open up to you about his insecurities is one of your best accomplishments, he feels like he can be vulnerable with you and that really says a lot. The man has a lot of inner demons and has willingly put his life down the path of villainy, but he feels with you by his side, that things will be a little bit better...

[davie-bullck]

So I finished Wind and Truth. Major spoilers for the cosmere.

Well, that went both so much better and so much worse than I ever could’ve expected. Not the quality of the writing or the story itself, those were so so so good.

The only prediction I made that came true was Herald Kaladin. I don’t think I ever posted about it but I have been preaching that gospel since Jezrien died. My favorite guy is immortal now!! So hopefully he’ll be around until the Cosmere comes to a close. And good lord Brandon did him so right. It’s a shame he didn’t get to spread therapy to the physical realm on Roshar very much but he’s putting those skills to extremely good use.

I never liked Szeth until this book. I love the direction he’s going in, especially the direction him and Nightblood are going. I AM NOT A THING. No talking sword has ever made me cry so much.

I never vibed with the theories that Gavinor would be Odium’s champion but I thought it was incredibly well done and I’m very excited to see what comes of him in the back half.

Rlainarin is everything I could’ve hoped for, and seeing Brandon’s growth as a writer in his representation of queer and neurodivergent characters has been so rewarding! I also love that Rlain has been given such a relevant role as Bridger of Minds. I was worried he might just become Renarin’s bf and not much more.

Adolin and Maya’s arc was so much more than I could’ve hoped for, I love the Unoathed, and hit fighting the thunderclast was one of my favorite action scenes in the cosmere.

I’m so glad Vasher is sticking around on Roshar AND training Lift??? I love Lift and can’t wait for her book in the back half.

I caught on to the Auxiliary “twist” as soon as he started calling Szeth his squire. I’m glad we got to see the beginning of Sigzil’s transition to Nomad. I’m not sure if I would recommend people reading Sunlit Man between Row and WaT or after, but I was glad I’d read Sunlit Man already. I love Sigzil so so much and really hope we get more of him than just Sunlit Man, fortunately the time dilation thing allows him time to travel the cosmere as Nomad then Zellion and still possibly come back for the back half!

Retribution, the perfect direction for this midpoint in the series. Taravangian wielding two shards that can work well together is such a huge insane threat and I can’t wait to see how the world responds to him.

Although they took a bit of a back seat I was very excited by where the Listeners ended up.

Dalinar. Good LORD Dalinar. If Kaladin didn’t exist he would easily be my favorite character, and as devastating as his death is, I’m so incredibly proud of him and his journey. Given what he was up against, he absolutely made the right decision, forcing the other shards into action. I LOOOOOOOVED him showing Honor that it’s not all about sticking to oaths, showing the power what it could be even in a dire moment like that.

The cosmere fandom is one of the only ones I actively engage with, due in no small part to the morality of its flagship series (I know I know, Mistborn’s cool too)

This is my favorite book series, I will love it until the day I die. I’m sad that there won’t be a new one for a couple years but it’s genuinely something that makes me want to be healthier so I live long enough to see the conclusion. The immortal words are etched into my heart and I will continue to do my best to live by them.

Life before death. Strength before weakness. Journey before destination.

[tarithenurse]

Handle with care - 3

Fandom: MCU. Pairing/starring: Eventually Bucky x fem!reader, The Avengers, Pepper Potts, Happy Hogan, SHIELD. Word count: 998. Content: So much pining it’s ridiculous. A/N: This will be a small series. Let me know what you think and please reblog – it’s fuel for more! There’s a taglist too so send an ASK if you want on it.

3.

- Bucky’s PoV -

She’s asked the team to come see her one on one at their leisure now she’s fully caught up. Steve was the first to go, keen to make her feel welcome and of use and Bucky felt that he should have done that. Instead he’d been in the gym. He spends a lot of time there now. It’s close.

“Hey, Buck!” Steve’s voice snaps him back to reality. “Where’s your head at?”

The two of them have gotten pizzas and are (or were) trying to pick one of the movies from Sam’s list of recommendations.

“Right here, punk,” he grumbles in reply. Snagging the list out of Steve’s hand, he looks over the options. “What’s the difference between Star Wars and Star Trek again?”

“It’s the...uh...they’re both in space...?”

Bucky’s about to point out that that’s in fact a similarity and not a difference when he notices someone at the door, heading for the kitchen: [Y/N].

“You’re here late for a Friday night,” Steve calls out for her.

“Yeah...took longer with Doctor Banner than expected,” she smiles tiredly.

Something inside Bucky’s guts curls up at the idea that even Bruce has taken time to go see her. But he doesn’t say anything.

She steps closer, still clutching her used coffee mug in one hand and her purse in the other. “What are you up to?”

“Deciding on a movie. What’d you recommend?” Steve hands her the list and she scans it quickly.

A crooked smile catches on her soft lips and Bucky has a hard time focusing on anything else for a moment.

“Honestly?” she asks, earning two nods. “None of these but rather a story closer to your time: Lord of the Rings. If you have the time.”

“Got all night.”

“Good because you ought to see the extended version. Hang on.”

Bustling off to put her mug away, she soon returns to order FRIDAY around and the screen on the wall activates, waiting for the order to begin playing the movie.

“You’ve read the books?” Both men nod. “There are some changes to it but it’s still amazing movies.” Slipping on to the armrest next to Bucky, she smiles shyly. “I won’t bother you for long but...I’ll just make sure it’s the right version.”

With that she starts the movie and Bucky has a hard time watching the screen, rather wanting to look at her as she softly mouths the words in Elvish, eyes shining with excitement.

By the time Frodo inherits the ring, she’s seated properly on the couch right next to him, making his heart thunder in his chest.

When the party reaches Rivendel, she’s resting her head on his shoulder, softly breathing as she’s somehow managed to fall asleep to the movie despite clearly loving it. Bucky doesn’t dare move for fear of waking her up, inevitably causing her to move away. Thankfully, Steve hasn’t noticed.

He does discover the conundrum when the movie ends, though. Grinning at Buck, the blond man just whispers goodnight and leaves his friend to figure out what to do.

- Reader’s PoV -

Someone’s calling your name, softly stroking your hand. “Hey, doll?”

“Hmm?” you manage to mumble, blinking in the soft light to get a face into focus.

Whoever it is is close to you. You blink again. There are storm-coloured eyes, smiling gently at you. Bucky. You return the smile. Then freeze. He’s much too close! Suddenly everything comes rushing and you’re painfully aware that you’re leaning against him, chin on his shoulder. You must have fallen asleep somehow. Pulling back, you begin to apologize profusely.

“Hey, it’s okay,” he promises, instantly calming you.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be...you’ve been working hard and it’s a new job. Makes sense you’re tired.”

You follow his gaze to your lap where his hand is still holding yours and it’s with regret you watch him pull away.

“I better...better get going...” you say tamely while getting up.

He follows you to the elevator. “Wanna watch the next movie with me? Us?”

Your heart leaps. “I’d like that. Tomorrow?” He nods “I’ll be here.”

---

Maybe it’s the nap you had at the Tower. Maybe it’s the realization of who you’d napped on. Either way, you can’t sleep once you’re lying in your bed. You just keep replaying the moment where you woke up with Bucky’s face so close to yours and the brief joy of him holding your hand, stroking your knuckles. It had felt good. More than good, actually. For a moment your mind is distracted trying to find the right word but then the image of his grey eyes appears in your thoughts and nothing else matters.

- Bucky’s PoV -

Even now as he lays in bed, his shoulder still feels warm where her head had been resting. His entire arm too because she’d leaned against it. Soft curves. Pencil skirt riding up a bit higher than it should. Blouse that did nothing to shield against the body heat seeping from her to him.

It had been a fight for her to stay awake as long as she had. Initially she had been enraptured by the movie, anticipating every line of dialogue...but she had succumbed eventually.

She was beautiful in her sleep. Peaceful. Soft lips that were gently parted and eyelashes resting like snow: delicate – sometimes they’d flutter when the noise of the movie got too much but she would sleep on regardless, exhausted from a long day’s work.

Steve had been caught up by the movie, and what little Bucky had caught of the thing it really was good. He ought to re-watch it without any distractions.

But right now...right now he just lies, trying to sleep but instead feeling all sorts of fuzzy inside in a way he hasn’t for technically...well scratch that: he’s never felt that way before. Sighing deeply, he knows what’s happening to him but he just can’t believe that he’s been smitten now. So randomly. So...profoundly.

[thedomesticanthropologist]

Would you be willing to do an analysis on Karlach and how she seems to compartmentalize a lot of extreme feelings? Like she gives me the sense that that was how she coped in Avernus to stay alive and reduce the odds of exploitation by devils, but it's fascinating to see how fast she seems to shut down anything negative to the point that she disapproves of Tav/Durge questioning the ethics of using soul coins.

I haven't done the Karlach origin, so I may be missing some context or information. That being said LETS GOOOO 👏👏👏

Karlach has a reputation in fandom for being a cinnamon roll, but she is so much more than that. Her personality is really complex, and her history is full of decisions and actions that reflect her upbringing and the situations she was forced to survive. That history helped shape how she sees and responds to the world around her.

On Soul Coins: Soul Coins are small, coin-shaped objects forged of infernal iron into which a single mortal soul has been bound. They are used as currency in the Nine Hells, and can be used to power infernal engines such as the one in Karlach's chest

They contain an entire MORTAL SOUL. The full essence of a person, and once used in Karlachs engine, that persons soul is destroyed in a way that makes it irretrievable.

What does this mean? Can souls in coins be saved? Yes! From the forgotten realms wiki:

It was possible to release the soul within a soul coin. This could be achieved by casting an anti-curse spell, such as remove curse, on the coin. Once a soul was freed, the coin began rusting and was eventually destroyed. If the soul was of a good alignment, they were transported to the realm of their deity. If the soul was of an evil alignment, they were transported to the Styx and transformed into a lemure (dang yo lol)

Karlach sees the coins as a tool to enhance her power. If the player reminds her that soul is a person, she gets very angry and says she /knows/ that. She still believes that they should be used to juice her up. You can obtain quite a bit of disapproval from Karlach by questioning the use of the soul coins in Act 1.

Additionally, Karlach has unique dialogue with Mattis the tiefling child in the Last Light Inn. She essentially encourages the kids racket scheme, and if the player pipes up to say her advice isn't moral/ethical/a good suggestion, she has a strong disapproval and puts the PC in their place by saying you have NO RIGHT to intervene on her opinions of how a (poor, displaced) tiefling child should act to better their personal situation.

We are also aware that in her past, At some point Karlach lived in the city of Baldur's Gate in Faerûn, where she worked as personal bodyguard for Lord Enver Gortash. Personal bodyguard is key: this implies she was at his side, whenever he did whatever he was doing at the time. It is also stated that she "would do anything for him", and was betrayed by him. Her anger with him is based on what he put her through, and I do not believe she expresses anything about what he had her do while she was a bodyguard.

Karlach is not a "morally pure: character prior to Avernus, nor was she one during her time in Avernus, nor is she one when she escapes. The game never implies that she is.

However! What Karlach is is extremely loyal, and a SURVIVOR. She has the mentality of 'do what you need to do to survive', and she WILL do what she needs to do to survive. She came from a poor upbringing, she did the best she could with what she had, and now that she's escaped Avernus she wants to CELEBRATE and experience as much joy as possible before she burns up.

This makes her very sensitive to anything that might 'kill the vibe'. She doesn't want to face things like her impending death (she tries very hard to get you to stop talking about it) she doesn't want to question the coins, she doesn't want to deal with big moral questions when the bare bones of the situation are that that kid probably needs to be a thief in order to make it by, "morals" be damned.

Karlach went through hell. Literally. She was incredibly abused psychologically and physically and used as a weapon. She doesn't have the TIME to do anything other than be glad that she's not there anymore. She wants to smell the grass, drink the ale, laugh, love, make friends, enjoy as much as she can while she can. Is she a good person? I'd say so, yeah. But is she a paragon of virtue? No. She was never meant to be, nor was she ever given the opportunity to be.

She knows that reality is a lot harder and a lot more in your face than any higher 'ideals' that may be the best looking on paper. This may be an unpopular opinion as well, but I think if Gortash hadn't sold her, she very likely would have ended up on a path where she would happily do some pretty sketchy shit.

I'm not sure I'd say she compartmentalizes so much as actively chooses to avoid addressing things, to the point where it pisses her off if you try to push her. It's an avoidance of choice, maybe even a rationalization situation.

You do the best you can with the hand you're given. She always did. And now she's only got a few minutes left to enjoy what time she has, so... she does.