#Stark's Assistant

[icarusredwings]

It's 4 am, but Tony Stark is definitely the type of man to gag every time he catches Steve and Bucky flirting in the hallway. Yes. Even at his grown age. But the second someone says anything about Pepper, he would probably throw them off of Stark Tower.

Steve: Hey. You did great out there today.

Bucky: Yeah? I could say the same thing about you.

Steve: Oh. Heh.. really? It was nothing. I mean. It wasn't even har-

Tony: *starts gagging*

Bucky: 😐?

Steve: ... Do you need medical assistance or somthing?

Tony: What? Me? No, no. Continue making out in my hallwall it's fine.

Bucky: But we weren't-

Tony: *gags louder*

[rickmandowneyjr]

Under the Table

Smut (18+)

Pairing: Tony Stark x Reader

Warnings: nsfw

Word count: 1483

A/N: Hello friends :) How's everyone doing? It's been a hot minute, hasn't it? Anyway, I've finally written something that justifies the second half of my url. I'm a little out of practice but I hope you enjoy <3

“I have an interview in about half an hour, so please make sure that you clear my schedule,” Tony announced as he waltzed into his office.

“Already done,” you replied, finishing up tidying his desk. It was typical of him to inform you of these things at the last minute, but it wasn’t like you didn’t have your ways to find out before he did.

“This is why I like you,” Tony said, walking up behind you.

“That’s the reason?” You asked, turning around to face him. Folding your arms across your chest, you teased, “I’m a little offended.”

“If that’s the case…” he said with a smirk tugging at his lips. He propped you onto the table, his hands holding onto the edge on either side of you. Looking into your eyes, he said, “Remind me of the others.”

Your arms wrapped around the back of his neck and you pulled him close. “Gladly,” you said before bringing your lips to meet his. He chuckled as you kissed him hungrily.

His hands slid up your bare thighs, slowly hiking your skirt up as they did. His fingers hooked into your panties, sliding them off and stuffing them into his back pocket.

Just as his kisses moved down your neck, there was a knock on the door. You pushed him away and hopped off the desk immediately. He tutted in annoyance as you smoothed your skirt.

“You know, being the CEO has its perks… like, not meeting every idiot that comes by my office.”

You gave him no response. “Come in,” you called.

Happy walked in and mentioned that there were certain details he wanted to discuss with the boss. With a polite smile, you left the room, leaving behind a frustrated Tony.

-

Around twenty minutes later, Happy emerged from Tony’s office.

“All okay?” You asked as he walked past your desk.

“I guess,” he said. “Did something upset him right before I came?”

“No, why do you ask?” You feigned innocence.

“He just… seemed a little frustrated, I guess.”

“Huh. That’s odd…” you said, fighting the smile that threatened to show your amusement at the situation. “I’ll talk to him and make sure he’s feeling alright before his interview,” you assured. “Thank you, Happy.”

“Not a problem, [Y/N],” he replied; giving you a firm nod before taking his leave.

You knocked on the glass door of the office. Upon hearing a very annoyed, “Come in,” you entered the room and saw Tony staring straight at you.

“How was the discussion,” you asked with a smirk plastered on your face.

“I couldn’t stand up for half of it,” he said as he pouted, making you giggle. “Glad you’re amused, sweetheart.”

“Oh, absolutely,” you replied sarcastically. Coming back to work, you reminded him, “Well, I hope you’re all set for the interview. You’re live in 5.”

Tony opened his mouth to speak but paused for a second before he said, “No, actually. Care to set it up for me?”

“…sure,” you played along as you walked up to his desk. After all, all you had to do was log on to the meeting for him. “Care to move?” You asked. He rolled his chair away from the desk, leaving enough room for you to stand between him and the table.

You rolled your eyes as you occupied the space and took hold of the mouse. “Would you like me to bend over as well?” You scoffed, though you knew that it would be taken as a serious suggestion.

“That would be ideal, yes.”

You shook your head as you chuckled softly and bent over slightly. Before you could even begin working, his voice sounded from behind you.

“On your elbows, Ms. [L/N].”

His voice was low making butterflies flutter around in your stomach. Letting out a deep breath, you complied. “Good girl,” he praised.

You couldn’t see him but could feel his gaze on you and your heart was pounding against your chest. Using his foot to nudge yours, he spread your legs and rolled his chair forward so that he was seated somewhat in between them.

You could feel yourself getting wetter and you rushed to finish what you were doing. He placed his hands on your calves, then slowly began dragging them up the length of your legs. As he reached the hem of your skirt, you sprung up and said, “All done!”

Tony laughed at your response and moved his hands away. “Thank you,” he said as you moved away. He eyed you as you tried to regain your composure, a smirk tugging at his lips. Normally, you would’ve done a better job at controlling your reactions but the fact that you had been interrupted earlier made it easier to rile you up.

“You okay?” He asked as though he wasn’t the reason behind your condition.

“Fine,” you said, slightly annoyed. You knew he was getting back at you for what you’d done to him earlier; doing this to you right before he got into his interview. You weren’t going to let him off the hook though.

“You can wait here while I do the interview and then we can leave together. It shouldn’t take too long.”

“Alright,” you said, and then walked over to the couch at the entrance of his office and took a seat. You poured yourself a glass of water in order to help yourself calm down, and watched him as he fixed himself up for the interview. He logged on and you could hear the reporter on the other side ask about the Avengers and all things superheroes. Tuning them out, you began reading comics on your phone.

You looked up from time to time and caught Tony looking past his screen and watching you instead. It had been about half an hour and you were beginning to get bored. You looked over at Tony who was watching you yet again. He looked so done.

You knew that this was your chance. You had behaved yourself for the past half-hour. It was only fair that you got to have a little fun now.

With your gaze matching his, you uncrossed your legs. Tony’s eyes immediately darted lower before he returned his attention to the screen in front of him. He sighed softly as his hands gripped the panties in his pocket. He could see you shifting around from the corner of his eye and returned his attention to you.

You now had one leg resting against the edge of the table in front of you, letting your skirt ride up and give him a better view. You proceeded to move a hand over your already slick folds, throwing your head back at the sensation of your cool fingertips. Your hips bucked forward as you spread your lips and inserted a finger.

Your other hand made its way to your clit, gently rubbing it as your finger pumped in and out of you. You bit your lip, holding back a moan. You looked over at Tony who was looking right at you. He looked you in the eye, his face completely stoic as he returned his gaze to the screen.

His body, however, was responding differently. You walked over to the side of his desk and you could see the erection straining against his pants. He looked away from the screen nonchalantly as he watched you kneel down and slowly crawl towards him. He raised a questioning brow at you and you replied with a mischievous smile.

You quietly made your way under his desk, resting your hands on his knees. Your hands ran up along his thighs, till your hand reached the bulge that was straining against his pants.

He tried grabbing your hands to stop you but didn’t protest much when you broke free of his grip. You palmed him through the pants and he let out a shaky sigh. He subtly shifted in his seat allowing you to pull down his pants.

Your cold hands wrapped around his cock, making it twitch slightly. You began stroking him slowly, building up your pace as you pumped his length.

Just as you thought he was adjusting to the sensation, your lips wrapped around the head. He drew a sharp breath, his hand instinctively making its way into your hair. He took charge as he moved your head up and down his length, his eyes still glued to the screen.

You fondled his balls and your head bobbed up and down his length. You slowly increased the pace, sucking and pumping his thick cock. Finally, he muted the call and said, “Sweetheart, I’m gonna come in that pretty little mouth at this rate.”

You continued your ministrations, letting him know that it was okay. He let out a moan as he bottomed out and came in your mouth. You pulled away, your hands catching cum that was still dripping from his dick.

“Thank you for your time, Mr. Stark,” the interviewer said as he disconnected the call. Tony watched you as you licked your fingers, cleaning his seed off of them.

You gave him a cheeky grin and he said, “What am I gonna do with you?”

[holylulusworld]

The assistant (2) - Office

Summary: You are invisible most of the time.

Pairing: Boss!Steve Rogers x Assistant(plussized)!Reader

Possible pairing: Jake Jensen x Reader, Lloyd Hansen x Reader, Curtis Everett x Reader

Characters: Tony Stark, OC Sandy

Warnings: angst, language, Steve is an ass or oblivious (we will see), low self-esteem, plussized/chubby reader, reader doesn’t take shit from Steve any longer

The assistant masterlist

<< Part 1

“Morning Y/N,” Tony huffs as he makes his way toward his office. He was awake all night to work on another armor. “How was your weekend?”

“Short,” you give the cocky billionaire a cracked smile. You spent your weekend thinking about everything happening last week. Maybe your boss was busy and oblivious to the pain he caused. You’re sure, he will make things up to you one way or another.

He cracks his neck. “I wish coffee and breakfast would wait for me at my office,” he longingly looks at the coffee and breakfast you bought for Steve on your way to the tower.

“I got more than enough. If you want a bagel.”

“I’ll kill for a bagel, darling,” you chuckle at Tony’s eagerness. “Please have mercy, sweet Y/N.”

“I’ve got you, Mr. Stark,” he cocks his head as you hand him the coffee and the paper bag with your bagels. I think Mr. Rogers is capable of getting breakfast on his own. You look like you need the energy more than him.”

“Thank f-“ Tony grins from ear to ear. “One day, I’ll build you an armored suit, Y/N.”

He gives you a wink before hurriedly walking toward his office.

“Y/N,” Steve enters your office without knocking. You don’t look up at first. You’re busy writing his latest report and he clears his throat to get your attention. “Y/N…”

“Morning, Captain. I’m almost finished with your report,” you finally look up to watch him wring his hands. “What can I do for you?” You frown as he nervously runs his fingers through his hair. “Is something wrong?”

“I-you need to switch places with Sandy,” he says and your blood runs cold. “You see…Pepper doesn’t like the way Tony looks at his assistant. She asked for a replacement. I told her you’ll make a good…replacement.”

“Replacement? Why?” you slowly get up from your swivel chair. “Because this office is well organized and I’m the best assistant you can think of? Or is it the fact that you never have to get your clothes, food, or anything else done by yourself? What is it?”

“Tony won’t have an affair with you,” Steve gasps at his words. “No…that’s not what I wanted to say.”

“Of course not,” you sarcastically say. “But that’s what you thought, right? Miss Potts wanted an ugly duckling; a woman Tony Stark won’t look at twice. That’s all I am to you. Someone to walk all over and give a shit about. You even forgot to order food for me.”

You kick the wastebasket. “It’s not like that. I-I want Tony and Pepper to get happy. Sandy offered to become my assistant and that you could…”

“Take over the mess at Mr. Stark’s office? Thanks, but no thanks. Only as you want to dunk your dick into her pussy after she almost spread her legs for you in front of everyone I won’t give up my office. This is my place!

“Sandy is not like that,” he protests. “She’s nice and tries to help…and this is not negotiable.” Steve’s words are final.

“Even Captain America fell for her. You’re thinking with your dick thanks to her,” you sneer. “Cause that’s all she’s capable of. Sandy wraps horny idiots around her fingers. Fine. Make her your assistant. I quit!!”

You turn around to and open a program you developed some years ago on your laptop. “What? Tony still needs an assistant and…”

“No!” you snap your head toward Steve. “Don’t act like you are doing this for Mr. Stark. He’s a grown man and didn’t even look at Sandy twice. She lied to get her hands on my well-organized office and you. Well, have her…”

You enter your password, smirking as you press enter. “But she won’t get my system or my files…”

“What are you doing?” Steve rounds your desk to watch your program delete all the reports, files, his calendar…everything you worked on over the last months. “You can’t do this.”

“Oh, this is my software and my files. You still got the reports you handed to me,” you smirk darkly. “I mean the paper scraps you throw at me all the time. Do you think your perfect reports and files appeared magically out of nowhere?”

While Steve sits on your swivel chair, typing on the keyboard to save whatever he can, you grab an empty box from one of the shelves. “You didn’t have to do this. Tony would be a good boss.”

“He’ll make an excellent boss but,” you grab the picture frames on your desk, “I’m not a chair you can kick out when it starts to creak. I’m a person who loves her job and this office. I worked hard to get here. You have no right to take away my job and my office only as you want to fuck that bitch.”

“Doll, you should watch your tone,” Steve looks up from the monitor. “This is insubordination.”

“No, it’s not,” you huff. “I quit minutes ago. I don’t have to pretend any longer that you didn’t act like a dick lately.”

“I—”

You carefully put your plants and all of your knick-knacks into the box while Steve silently watches you.

“Save it, Captain. You’re not the man I believed you are. I always thought that a man like you, the skinny and weak guy from back then, knows how it feels to look different and what this means…” you sniff. “You don’t remember because all of these muscles and good looks made you forget about the simple boy from back then.”

You grab your bag, sling it over your shoulder, and pick the box up. “Wait…maybe I was a little too…I’m sorry, doll...”

“Fuck it. I don’t care,” you storm out of the office, slamming the door shut. “I don’t give a shit about your or Sandy.”

“What? Where’s the fire?” Tony pokes his head out of his office. “Oh, it’s you.” His eyes drop to the box in your hands as he steps out of the room. “What happened?”

“You should talk to your girlfriend,” you snap at Tony. “Maybe she will even tell you the truth…”

“Pepper?”

“Fuck, no,” you curse as you run into a firm chest on your way toward Jake’s café, the box in your hand hitting the man hard. “Sorry.”

“Don’t sweat it,” the man says as you lift your head to meet his gaze. “Oh, it’s you. Jake’s friend.”

“You look like him… a little. Are you another brother?” he chuckles at your confusion. “Sorry, I didn’t want to be nosy.”

“It’s alright. Let me take this,” you reluctantly let the man take the box out of your hands. “You like plants?”

“Hmm…”

“Jake told me so much about you,” he says. “Bastard didn’t lie this time. You are sweet and pretty. Let’s head inside and have some tea. It’s getting cold…”

“Cupcake,” Lloyd gets up from his favorite chair at his favorite spot to greet you. “Curtis, what are you doing with my best girl?” His features darken as his brother steps in front of you to block Lloyd’s path.

“She ran into me, and I carried her box,” Curtis bites back. “And that’s none of your business.”

“Hi, Lloyd,” you whisper. “Can I have some tea and a cupcake? I need something to make me feel better.”

“What happened,” Lloyd takes the box with your few belongings out of Curtis’s hands. “Can you leave me and sweet cupcake alone for a moment?”

“Sure,” you smile when Curtis turns toward you to hold out his hand. “It was a pleasure to meet you. I hope to see you more often from now on.”

“Thank you.”

“Back to the box,” you look at Lloyd as he jerks his head toward his table. “Let’s sit over there. Jake brings us some food and tea. We need to talk to Y/N!”

“Y/N!” Jake stumbles out of the kitchen, smiling. “Sweetie! I’ll be right there. Just a moment.”

“Why are you all so nice?” you follow Lloyd toward the table. “You don’t even know me, Lloyd.”

“I like you, Y/N. It doesn’t matter to me that we just met,” Lloyd places the box next to his chair before pulling a chair for you.

“Hmm…usually men aren’t so nice to me,” you drop your eyes to the tea Jake places in front of you.

“For you, sweetie,” Jake sits next to you. “So, what brings you here so early on a Wednesday.”

“I quit,” you sniff. All damns break and you tell Jake and Lloyd everything happening this morning.The men listen, nods and clench their jaws while watching you intensely.

Lloyd’s features darken as he lifts his gaze to look at Curtis who stepped behind you to listen to your story too.

“…and…then…I deleted all the files and left,” you wipe your eyes. “I didn’t overreact, right? He wanted me to switch places with that bitch. Tony is nice and I feel bad for just leaving him hanging.”

“Good girl,” grinning Lloyd looks at you. “I’m damn proud of you.”

“From what you told us, Stark didn’t have a saying in all of this,” Jake huffs. “What the fuck is so special about Sandy?”

“Sandy who?” Lloyd grunts. “I should just go to the tower and ki—” he bites his tongue and shakes his head. It’s too early to tell you about his profession. “Punch your ex-boss’s face.”

“He’s Captain America,” you say. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”

“We don’t want you to get hurt,” Jake softly says. “I’ll get you your favorite cupcake and you’ll join us for lunch and dinner today.”

“We won’t leave you alone today. Not after what happened at the office,” Lloyd states. “Curtis, will you sit down or just lurk around?”

“So—uh…you are all brothers?” you try to stop Lloyd from talking about Steve. It’s worse enough that you gave up and just quit your job without fighting back.

“Lloyd is the eldest,” Curtis grins at you. “Jakie is our sweet little boy. I’m the middle child and the prettiest.”

“Hey, I’m not an old man,” Lloyd bites back. “You are thirty-four, Curtis.”

“Back to Y/N and her problem. What are we going to do about this?” Jensen asks. “Guys, focus.”

“We need a lawyer,” Curtis says.

“No,” Lloyd shakes his head. “You know how he gets. I won’t let him get even close to my cupcake.”

“Lloyd…” Jake sighs.

“I won’t call him.”

“I’ll call him,” you watch Curtis get up. “Just a minute, Y/N. I’ll be right back.”

“Fine. Call that asshole,” crossing his arms over his wide chest Lloyd mutters. “He’ll not ruin my plans...”

“What did you do?” Tony slams the door to Steve’s office shut behind him. “Why did Y/N quit? What has my girlfriend to do with all of this…”

“I-“ Steve drops his gaze and sighs deeply. “I guess you deserve to know…”

>> Part 3

Tags in reblog.

[doctorofmagic]

A friend of mine sent an ask but requested to stay anon! So here's the question:

I'm not the craziest about this ship so maybe my perception is not as deep as the fans. But I can definitely vouch for their relationship. Stephen assisted Tony several times in the past, despite their conflict between magic and science.

There was a time they were on opposite sides (check Civil War), which can definitely be perceived as angsty juice. After that, they never really had their time to talk about it, but they became closer and closer thanks to the Illuminati (and I mean, not in a healthy way since this group is not supposed to portray goodness. It's complicated).

Still, despite all the troubles that ensued, they've become even closer, and Tony always goes to Stephen whenever magic is involved because he truly trusts him. In an alternate future, Tony even becomes Sorcerer Supreme.

616 is not the best source of food for this ship imo, tho. I think Midnight Suns and Marvel Action: Chillers (IDWverse) are more interesting in this regard, they feel more... how can I put this... married. if not, then certainly domestic.

And yes, I do have a list of recs for some ships (because I'm insane). It needs some updating tho, so my apologies if it's not complete. I'll do my best!

1 - Avengers v1 #116-118 + Defenders v1 #8-10 (read concomitantly) 2 - Marvel Team-Up v1 #50-51 3 - West Coast Avengers #78-79 4 - What If? v2 #113 5 - New Avengers: Illuminati #1 (one-shot) 6 - New Avengers: Illuminati #1-5 7 - Civil War #1 8 - New Avengers v1 #28-30 9 - Invincible Iron Man v2 #22-24 10 - Marvel Holiday Special #1 11 - Avengers v4 #8-12 12 - Doctor Doom and the Masters of Evil #1 13 - Iron Man Legacy #6; #10-11 14 - New Avengers v3 #1-7; #9-10 (+Infinity #1-6); #18-22 15 - Invincible Iron Man v3 #3; #5 16 - Avengers v8 #1-6 17 - Doctor strange v5 #1 18 - Gwenpool Strikes Back #3 19 - Avengers: Loki Unleashed! #1 20 - Magnificent Ms. Marvel #9 21 - Tarot #1-4 22 - Mech Strike - Monster Hunters #1-5 23 - Fallen Friend - The Death of Ms. Marvel #1

Extra: Marvel Action: Chillers #1-4

Aaaand that's it! (we don' talk about the MCU...)

Thanks for passing by, I'm sending you much love! Take care!

[cricket-reader]

The Smell of Alcohol and Cologne

Masterlist | A03 | Wattpad | Recommendations | Inbox

Summary: Tony Stark’s assistant has a flashback and finds comfort in Tony’s arms.

Warnings: Past abuse, hints of SA, MC almost jumps off the tower, mention of a dead mother, fluff, it’s kinda dumb, pining, self-deprecating thoughts, self-blame

Word Count: 3,000

Looking at his assistant Tony takes his time to look at each and every feature. Sure, he stares a lot, but she’s always too oblivious to notice. It’s kinda cute—but at the same time, irritating.

He’s never been able to really stare from this close a distance. She just usually would make some excuse of how she has to do one thing or another.

Her long dark lashes lie gently on her cheeks that are slightly pink, being warm from the blanket and the fireplace. Her freckles are more prominent up close and he can see her perfectly plucked eyebrows. How she manages to keep up her perfect appearance is beyond him.

Despite her shy nature, they have grown closer—helped mainly by his personality. He’s glad for that.

Noting that she probably isn’t going to wake soon, and that she usually doesn’t get much sleep, Tony decides to take her to bed. He only knows that because he asked Jarvis if she was still up one night; when he asked why she was, Jarvis said that she usually never gets much sleep.

Trying to be as careful, quiet, and gentle as possible, Tony lifts her small body, bringing it to his room—since hers is not finished being painted.

She only gains half her consciousness when she is picked up. In her stupor, she smells the light scent of cologne and alcohol and knows she is being carried somewhere by a man. She’s had night terrors like this before, but this felt too real.

It was strange though; the cologne wasn’t the same. Sometimes she had flashbacks in which she could faintly smell the cologne and alcohol, but it isn’t the same as it is now.

Tony notices her body stiffen and her laboured breathing which makes him concerned.

She feels as though she might just get sick.

When Tony began to lower her onto his bed, she freaked. Gently lowering the beauty onto his bed, he covers her with the duvet and looks at her with admiration.

Adrenaline sent her flying up from her lying position on Tony’s bed. Confusion warps her brain. This can’t be real, she thinks.

Tony sees her wide eyes and immediately wants to comfort her, but as he draws closer, she screws her eyes shut, scrambling to the other side of the bed and curling into a ball. This, of course, shocks him. He didn’t understand what was going on; he has never seen her like this.

He faintly hears her mumbling to herself, and when he strains to listen in, he hears her words.

“It’s not real,” plays on repeat. Almost as if she is trying to convince herself—which she is.

Tony gently calls out her name. Her whole body freezes when he gently rests his hands on her arm. This can’t be happening, not again. Tears stream down her face. She thought Tony was one of the good men. Turns out he’s just the same as him.

Deciding she doesn’t want a similar cycle to repeat, she will fight back until he really hurts her—perhaps with a whip like he did.

Tony blinks when she slaps his arm away. She has never so much as shown any reaction similar to this. Even when he noticed that people were clearly bothering her, she kept her cool. He knows this because he often thinks that should he be in that situation, he would slap the person silly.

This is why his concern deepens, almost to a point that is too far. Something is wrong. Something is very wrong. What is it? He has not a clue.

He calls out her name as if trying again, softer this time. She tightens her hold on herself shaking her head as if to clear the situation from her mind; however, she, deep down, knows that it won’t work. It’s too real not to be.

Shifting on the bed so he can get a better stance, she flies up out of the bed. Startled, a wide-eyed Tony jumps up as well.

Now she is for certain; this is real. This is happening. Racing out of the room, Tony panics and does the only thing his brain can think of doing. Being a stressful situation, adrenaline was high in both the individuals for different reasons. If you are not aware, in a state such as this, the brain may sometimes make irrational decisions. With that in mind, Tony chases after the woman not entirely thinking the situation through.

She hears his footsteps. He’s going to beat her. Pummel her into submission.

The door to the stairs bursts open. She flies up the stairs with Tony right behind her. After several floors they reach the top. Tony’s eyes widen as he realises what is about to take place if he doesn’t get ahold of her. He can’t have that. He won’t let that happen.

The door to the roof bursts open as she runs to the edge of the building—it’s not as if she’s suicidal, but this was the best option her mind could provide her. She’d rather die than have to suffer like that again.

Tony felt like he might cry out in relief when he was able to wrap his arms around her to prevent her from getting any further.

She thrashes around in his arms as one final attempt, proving itself futile. Gently cooing, trying to console her, he starts walking back into the tower with great difficulty. In there he will be able to let her go, he just can’t when their out on the roof. She sure as hell isn’t dying on his watch. Once they finally get in the building. He tells Friday to lock the door, cursing himself for not thinking of that sooner. If she would have succeeded right then and there, he would have been at fault.

Finally out of his arms, she stumbles before crashing into the tiled floor. Tony feels his heart break seeing how broken she looks. Squatting down to match her height, he carefully says her name.

Her head snaps up. The look of sheer terror upon her face is like a punch to Tony’s gut. Is she scared of him? She slowly begins to scoot away from him, her eyes still wide. His heart completely shatters and he feels nauseous; she is scared of him. No, terrified is more like it. He stands up, frowning with his brows furrowed with concern

“Please don’t… please, I’m sorry! Whatever I did wrong I can fix it! Please, I’m sorry! I’ll be good! I’ll be better! Please!” She sobs, with a certain sense of brokenness. This makes Tony freeze. Slowly he feels the anger creeping into his body once he processes her words.

It all makes sense now. He doesn’t know how he didn’t see it sooner. Obviously she must have been having a flashback. The thing that makes his stomach twist is his mind wondering what on Earth could elicit such a response.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he says, slowly lowering himself so he doesn’t tower above her; certainly she’d be even more scared if he stayed like that.

She peeks up from her ball she curled herself into and sees that Tony is sitting on the cold tile, a nice space between the two of them—not too far and not too close.

“You were going to,” she mumbles, picking at her sleeves. His brows furrow in confusion. What did he do wrong?

“No I wasn’t,” he gently insists.

“Why else would you carry me to bed?”

One sentence.

Once sentence is all it took to destroy him. That along with her tear stained face as she looks down to her sleeves that she’s still picking at. He’s never seen anything as heartbreaking as this. His stomach churns as he thinks more and more of her words.

“Sweetheart… I, I never—it-it wasn’t like that,” he stutters, an underlying tone of pain evident in his voice.

“But you were carrying me to bed,” she persists, speaking softly as if not to anger him.

Should it be any other time, the expression on her face was adorable. Her brows furrowed, a small pout on her lips and her head tilted slightly to the right.

But Tony wasn’t thinking about that at the moment.

He was still trying to wrap his brain around the words she had just spoken to him. Never in his life would he have imagined anything like that coming from her lips.

She was always so happy and carefree, a sense of beautiful innocence with every movement. He doesn’t know how she could keep it up; he certainly doesn’t do it well. Locking himself up and not sleeping for days, looking like shit. He wonders how many times she has felt the way he has, but kept a smile on her face.

“I wanted you to sleep somewhere comfortable.”

Her frown deepens, “then why not leave me on the couch?”

“Because that’s not comfortable, I was going to take it instead,” he shrugs off the last sentence as if it were no big deal. Sure, it wasn’t much of a big deal to him, but to her? To her it was too good to be true. He couldn’t have let her sleep in his bed without wanting something in return. That’s not how it works.

“I would have taken you to yours, but they are still painting it,” he sheepishly rubs his neck. He hopes she doesn’t ask too many questions about that. It was supposed to be a surprise. He was going to have her spend the night in Natasha’s room since she was out on a mission with Wanda and Clint.

He sure as hell was not about to go in Natasha’s room. Though he will endlessly deny it, that woman terrified him. He knew that Natasha would be okay with her sleeping in her room though; he had asked prior, telling his plan to her and Clint. He was honestly kind of surprised she so willingly accepted. He would have thought it would take much convincing.

“Painted? What for?” Her expression grows worried and confused as she rushes to say, “I don’t recall ruining the walls.”

“You didn’t, I just thought a change would be nice,” he smiles. Doubt now enters his mind and he frowns, “unless of course you don’t think so.”

He mentally curses himself. For a genius, he can be kind of stupid some times, often rushing into things without truly thinking it through—take Ultron for example.

“So… you weren’t ..going to…”

“No, of course not,” he gently reassured her. She releases a breath and puts her head back on her knees.

Embarrassment flows through her. How stupid she believes herself to be. She made a fool of herself in front of her boss—of course he didn’t want anything like that from her! He’s Tony Stark for goodness sake! He can get women that are actually gorgeous—models really. He would have no use to use someone as ugly as her. She’s sure he has a line of women he could get any second.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbles, not lifting her head. She’s too embarrassed to even look at him.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, darling,” he assures her. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Darling.

Darling.

Darling is what her mother use do to call her. She hasn’t been called that since the day she died. Tony didn’t even realise he let that slip. It just happened.

Her heart clenches and she looks up at him. Tears blur her vision. Tony hates seeing her like this. What he would do if only he could take all of that suffering away from her. She shakes her head as she looks down. Blinking, the tears fall down her face.

“What do you want now?” He questions, ready to get anything and everything she desires. “I can get you anything you want.”

He couldn’t give her what she wanted though. Money simply couldn’t buy it. What she wanted was for her mama to hold her whilst softly singing a lovely lullaby in the old rocking chair by the brick fireplace in the cosy kitchen. Holding her, and running her fingers through her hair.

She couldn’t ask him to hold her. She has already made a fool out of herself. She also believes that, should she ask, he would laugh in her face. Why on Earth would the great Tony Stark comfort some weak girl?

She shakes her head. Tony frowns before telling her if she changes her mind to just tell him or Friday. Not wanting to do absolutely nothing for her, he nervously asks, “would you like a hug?”

Now here’s the thing about Tony Stark. He wasn’t one to show his nervousness. He always acted like he was chill, arrogant, and sure of himself. He never got nervous around women; in fact, he was great in that department—except when it came to her.

Something about her drew him in. Not in the typical lust-filled way—no, in an emotional sort of relation. Sure, she was quite a sight to see, but he actually felt things for her. Not just physically.

For this reason, he is so anxious as he asks for the hug. Tony doesn’t think she will want one considering everything that has happened. He prepares to not take the hit so hard to his ego; however, he can’t help but think of how crushed he would be should she refuse. Sure, he didn’t mind it, but then he would look like a complete imbecile in front of her.

So when she nodded her head and reached her arms up for him, his ego practically shot into the stratosphere. He was elated that despite everything, she was entrusting him. She was trusting him. Him! He wasn’t one that cries over things, but this brought him close to crying in relief.

He walked over and sat down to give her what he assumed would be a quick hug. Instantly, she wrapped her arms around his neck and nuzzled her face into the crook of his neck. Taken a bit aback, he takes a few seconds before gaining back enough thought process to return the gesture. He wasn’t going to let go until she did, but he certainly expected it to be quick.

And that is why, ten minutes later, Tony Stark is sitting on the cold tile floor with a woman falling out of consciousness and into her slumber. He didn’t want to move, didn’t want to ruin the moment. Nor did he want to be the cause of another horrible memory. He already feels horrible enough. Because although it certainly wasn’t his fault—how could he have known?—he still blamed himself. One thing about Tony Stark is that he often blames himself when things go wrong. After all, that was usually the case with his father. Usually when things went wrong the blame was placed on him. So, it is only natural for him to continue that into his adulthood.

“Sweetheart? Can you open your eyes for me?” Tony asks, gently brushing some of the hair out of her face. She frowns and blearily blinks up at him. “Let’s get you somewhere more comfortable, yeah?”

She nods her head and stands up. They both walk down the stairs leading to the roof access. It takes them no time to reach the elevator.

“I’m assuming you’d probably want to sleep in Natasha’s room? She said it was okay.”

She lowers her gaze to the ground, worrying her lip in between her teeth. Being alone doesn’t sound like a good idea right now. She wants to be curled up in his arms so he can protect her. The shadows at night wouldn’t dare reach her if she had his strong body wrapped around her.

No. That's inappropriate. He’s her boss, and he would never want to do something like that. The only women he has in his bed with him are the women he has one-night stands with. And that isn’t something she wants.

“Is Natasha here?”

“No, she’s on a mission, so you’ll have the place all to yourself.” He says it like it’s a good thing. Frowning, she scuffs her foot on the ground. Tony practically melts when her pleading eyes look up at him.

“What if I don’t want to be alone?” She mutters, too embarrassed to say it any louder.

Tony’s heart skips a beat. He keeps his face neutral as he says, “well if you want you can sleep in my room. I’ve been told I’m great at cuddling.”

She giggles a little. What he’d give to hear that out of her more. “By who?”

He raises a brow, “why, jealous?”

She rolls her eyes and crosses her arms, “you wish.”

He smiles back at her. “I was just kidding anyways.”

“Sure,” she jests, not believing him. The elevator opens on his floor and they both walk out.

“No, I’m serious,” he pouts. “I’ve… I’ve never really had anyone to cuddle with.”

Her brows furrow. She finds that hard to believe. What with the amount of girls he’s had in his bed, there’s no way he hasn’t gotten loads of cuddles.

Now that she thinks about it, however, she hasn’t seen anything on the news about his newest scandal or girl toy. In fact, she hasn’t seen so much as one girl getting him to leave early to hook up—not that it’s any of her business. It just makes it easier for her to keep up his reputation.

They arrive at his bed where he had laid her down earlier. Tony tried to burn away the memory of her terrified eyes and petrified body on it.

They both snuggle into bed, making sure not to cross the invisible line they both drew to keep themselves separate.

That doesn’t stop them, however, from tearing down that barrier during their sleep, seeking each other's warmth and comfort.

[eorzeashan]

everyday I experience whimsy thinking about how Eight went from the perception of a diabolical mysterious mastermind to (• ̫ •) in the span of a few years. imperial dissolution turns the hardest operatives into the fluffiest companions

[justplaggin]

real-life situational comedy is finding out that the nice man who often wanders around the hospital hallways and looks exactly like steve carrell is actually. the chief surgeon

[witchering10123]

inspired to do this by @transboyzuko :)

rules: post the names of all the files in your wip folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it

writing wips because i need to find a new drawing software that won't charge me the absolute earth lmao

foster home au

prison au

game of thrones + sokka

tony stark + sokka

hunger games x atla

chess

stowaways

amaruq

swt fleet in the nwt during siege fic

phantom of the opera musical zukka

(when this is just the tip of the iceberg lmao, i really need to get back into writing)

[conflictedkismet]

Thinking so so hard about my Update Assistant/Elizabeth design....

[aingeal98]

The steady shift from liberal zionists these past few weeks from "both sides are wrong and we just need peace" to "Israel is doing what it needs to do to survive" has been chilling. Mask off moment, turns out your calls of "dead babies are always wrong" only applies to groups you support.

[bluebison2]

Okay so Greg is officially the Littlefinger of succession now right.

[pandagirl45]

Tony: I'm more like a willy Wonka than a sherlock

Steve: because you are sweet and not a know it all ass?

Tony: nope! I'm unhinged as shit with my creations

Bucky: accurate

[buckyalpine]

CEO Bucky takes his anger out on his secretary (ft smut)

Imagine CEO!Bucky accidently taking his anger out on his already stressed out secretary. He gets mean and you will deal with it because I wanted this angst turned smut to go from chest itching to stomach fluttering. 

-

Your stomach twisted in knots looking at the pile of papers you had stacked on your desk, the phone still ringing while new messages popped up in your email inbox every 5 minutes. The files had to be organized by the next meeting and the number on the phone display was one you couldn’t ignore. The back to back messages were from various investors, each person insisting they were a priority over the others. You kept the receiver between your ear and shoulder, your hands flying around your desk madly between papers and tapping your keyboard. 

You quickly added a few more meetings to the calendar before hurrying to your bosses office to remind him of one he had later that afternoon. You hesitated before knocking at the door, the closed doors indicating he was busy, but you knew he’d want a heads up about the meeting. 

“Mr. Barnes, you have a meeting with Stark Enterprises at 3:30-

“Didn’t I tell you to move this meeting to next week?” Bucky snapped, blue eyes glaring at you while you blinked in confusion. “Well?” 

“N-no” You shook your head, you’d never missed an email before and you’d always been on top of scheduling changes on time. Bucky mumbled something under his breath before waving you off, the shrill sound of his phone going off. 

“Barnes” Bucky grunted, answering the phone without looking back at you, leaving to you scramble away and figure out if you could rearrange the date with Tony Stark. 

Which was a mess in itself. 

You had to argue back and forth, pleading to no end for a different day with Starks assistant only reluctantly agreeing after nearly half an hour. 

“You really should be more responsible, can’t believe Barnes has the likes of you working under him” the woman on the phone clicked her tongue before slamming down the receiver, cutting the call. You sighed, taking in a deep breath to calm the tightness you felt in your throat, you didn’t have time to break down now. 

You printed the up coming contracts for Bucky to sign, organizing them by name and highlighting the places he had to sign so he didn’t have to bother finding the space for signatures. You scurried back into his office, dreading the tense click of his jaw, your nerves increasing even more. 

“Sir, these are your papers-” You stumbled over the corner of the rug, scattering the papers onto the floor, your heart hammering out of your chest when you saw Bucky irritatedly run his fingers through his hair. 

“For fucks sake, y/n, I’m already stressed, don’t screw more shit up!” He growled, eyes hardening at the sight of the papers strewn across the floor of his office while you stayed frozen on the spot. Your eyes glossed over, quickly scrambling to the floor to grab the documents, mumbling apologies over and over again, hoping none of your tears stained the paper. The sight of tears streaking down your face broke Bucky out of his frustrated state, instantly regretting the tone he’d used with you. 

“Fuck” Bucky cursed under his breath, getting out of his chair to help you but you’d already managed to pick everything up, immediately trying to scramble away.

“Y/n” 

You didn’t stop, unable to take more of Bucky’s wrath, continuing to hurry towards the door, desperately trying to hold down your sniffles and aggressively wiping your cheeks. 

“Y/n” 

Bucky sighed, gently reaching out to grab your arm and pulling you to face him, his feeling even worse when you kept your eyes trained on the floor, your arms wrapped around yourself. 

“I’m sorry, p-please d-on’t yell” You choked out, still trying to hold your composure together, fighting the way your body wanted to break down into sobs 

“It’s okay. I’m sorry, I’m sorry” his heart broke seeing the tears collecting in your lash line, his thumb swiping away the ones that spilled out. “M’sorry baby” he wasn’t sure where the pet name came from but he couldn’t help it, letting it naturally roll off his tongue. You were still rigid, refusing to look at him, nearly flinching when he pulled you closer, tilting your chin up to meet his steel blues. 

“Look at me” He spoke softly now, as if he were trying to coax a small animal out of hiding, his touch gentle, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have yelled at you”

“It’s okay” you shrugged, slipping out of his hold, quickly wiping your face and going back to work as if nothing had happened. Even though he’d apologized, his words rang through your mind for the rest of the day. 

In fact, they stuck with you through the entire week. 

Bucky hated the way you didn’t even look at him anymore. He missed your soft good mornings and shy smile whenever he walked into his office. Now all you did was keep your head down, freezing in fear as soon as you heard his footsteps. And it was all his fault. 

He despised that he made you feel scared of him, his own anger being the cause of upsetting you when you had been nothing but sweet from the day he’d met you. You were also the best he’d ever had; no one else had ever come close to how brilliantly you worked; you never missed anything. He nearly spat out the coffee that was placed on his table, missing the perfect cup you made for him every morning. 

You only spoke 1-2 words, retreating from his office as soon as you got what you needed, your eyes always trained on the floor, looking away from him. He couldn’t take it anymore, feeling more guilty each day; he couldn’t go on any longer without your sweetness. 

You blinked at the baby pink roses that sat in a basket on your desk along with a little bear placed on top, a small hand made I’m Sorry heart sitting in its furry hands, clearly in Bucky’s handwriting. You traced over the soft teddy holding it in your hands before going to his office. Before you could say anything, Bucky was up and out of his seat, desperately hoping you’d hear him out. 

“M’sorry y/n” His soft eyes were filled with sadness and regret as he reached out to hold your hands in his, not wanting you to run off again, “I’m so sorry angel, there’s no excuse, I shouldn’t have yelled at you” 

“It’s fine” You whispered, still avoiding his gaze. 

“Hey, it’s not fine” Bucky shook his head, cupping your face to make you look at him, “It’s not baby, I shouldn’t have ever treated you that way. You do everything for me, I shouldn’t have taken out my anger on you” 

“I shouldn’t have messed u-

“Don’t, absolutely not. You never do sweets, it was me who messed up. Never you. Will you forgive me, doll?” Bucky nervously bit his lip while you gave him a small nod, that adorable shy smile he loved so much making its way to your lips. 

“God, I missed this�� He whispered, his thumb tracing over your lips, chuckling at the tiny confused pout you gave him after.

“What did you miss” 

“This little smile you always have whenever you’re around me” Bucky smirked at the way you grew more bashful, doe eyes darting about, “Do you have any idea how much I love when you look at me like that?” 

“Mr-Mr. Barnes” Your breath hitched in your throat as his hands slowly moved to hold your waist, pulling you closer. Your hands made their way to his chest to ground yourself, forgetting how to breathe as he pressed his lips against yours. It started off soft and slow; his sweet tongue turning sinful as he walked over to his chair, pulling you to straddle him without breaking apart once. You let out a needy whimper feeling him harden under you though Bucky was still focused on kissing your soft skin, his lips fluttering across every inch. 

You’d never been this close to Bucky before, the intoxicating scent of his cologne making your heart race, his calloused large hands roaming your body. You hadn’t even realized you were grinding down on his thick bulge until he let out a groan, stilling your hips. 

“Keep that up bunny and you’ll make me cum in my pants like a little boy” Bucky let out a strained chuckle, using every bit of his self restraint not to tear your clothes off. 

“Please?” You wiggled against him again, needing to be closer, Bucky’s resolve slowly crumbling. How could he hold back when you were practically humping your soaked needy cunt right on his erection. 

“Please what, sweets” 

“Need you Sir” your voice had melted in a whine and that was all it took. The sound of his belt buckle hitting the floor caused more arousal to dampen your panties, nearly drooling at the sight of his cock as he pulled it out. 

“Are-are you sure?” He checked with you once more, not wasting a second ripping your blouse off as soon as you nodded. He threw your bra off next before lifting your skirt up and pulling your panties to the, rubbing his fingers through your folds. 

“Sir, pleasee” 

“I got you, I got you baby. Wanted to make love for our first time angel, give you a bed with rose petals n’ champagne over ice” He whispered, recounting every fantasy he’d thought of from the day he’d met you, “Wanted to make you feel good baby, throw your legs over my shoulders and nurse off this little clit”

He rubbed your sensitive bundle of nerves, continuing. 

“N’ then you’d be my sweet pillow princess. I’d let you lie down all night while I fuck your soul angel. I’d give you my cum all night, pump you full of my cream” 

“Need you now” You whimpered, clutching onto the lapels of his blazer, not that you didn’t want everything he was telling you but you couldn't wait. 

“Alright baby, c’mere” He pulled you closer, your bare chest pressed against his as he rubbed his swollen cockhead to gather your slick before breeching your tight hole, his hips gently pushing up till he was buried to the hilt, “That’s it, shhh take all of me” 

Bucky gave you a second to adjust to his size, his wide hands splayed across your body to hold you in place as he began to thrust up. You gasped in pleasure, your voice melting into a moan as he picked you up and placed you on his desk, pushing your thighs to hit your chest, hitting an even deeper angel. 

“OH GOD-MR-BARNES” You wailed as he fucked you harder, his heard thrown back, tie loosened, tightening the grip he had on your legs, keeping you spread out wide open. He groaned at the sight of his thick cock disappearing in and out of you while you moaned and sobbed on his desk, taking everything he gave you. 

“That’s right baby, say my name, let everyone know who makes you feel this good” He grunted through gritted teeth, holding off his orgasm while bringing his thumb to rub your clit again. 

“I-I’m gonna-OH-GOD-PLEASEE

“Fuck you sound perfect” Bucky moaned feeling you choke his length, fluttering and pulling him deeper as your orgasm washed over you, his own release dangerously close. “God you feel so fuckin’ good when you cum baby. One more angel, just one more” Bucky practically pleaded with you, speeding up his fingers till he saw your eyes roll back, silent screams leaving your mouth as your juices soaked his balls. 

“Fuck m’cumming so hard for you baby” He groaned, giving you a few more sloppy thrusts before stilling and spilling ropes of cum into you. He kept his cock inside while bending down to pick you up and sit back in his chair again. He sat with you for a while, petting your hair and kissing you, whispering sweet nothings. 

“Ready to go?” He whispered, looking down to see if you’d fallen asleep while you snuggled into him with your eyes closed. 

“Too tired sir” You pouted, nuzzling into his chest, refusing to move, your body too fucked out to even stand. 

“I got you baby” Bucky smiled, shrugging off his blazer and wrapping you up before carrying you away in his arms, ready to take you home, right where you belonged “Gonna make love to my pretty girl” 

[entitled-fangirl]

A sigil of mine.

Summary: the reader is taken from Winterfell while Cregan is at the Wall. He's a vengeful man.

Warning: kidnapping, dread, guilt, blood, scars, branding, talks of torture, our boy Cregan embodying Joel Miller when Ellie gets taken in the Last of Us

This one is dark

A/n: based on an ask! Also, fuck the Lannisters

I'll proofread later🫡

Masterlist

..............................................

"Lord Stark! An urgent letter has arrived from Winterfell!" A brother of the Wall yelled over the sound of the harsh wind that roared through the icy halls.

Cregan turned his entire body to him, a sudden pain in his stomach. What could be so urgent?

Cregan nearly rips the letter from the man's hand as he nears. The letter is stained with a dark red in places and he feels himself choke a little.

Lord Stark, Winterfell is under attack. By the time you read this, I will be long gone. I tried to protect the Lady as best as I could.  It was an honor to serve under House Stark and see you become a man. Please forgive me. Maester Tinedel

Cregan's hands shook violently as his eyes roamed over the paper another time. Then once more. His jaw set harshly as he looked up to the man that had brought such devastating news. "When did this arrive?" He growled lowly.

"Just this morning. Is it dated by any chance, my Lord?"

Cregan flipped the page and surely enough, the old maester had been wise enough to do so.

The air in his lungs escaped, creating a cloud in the cold air.

"Three weeks now."

The man stared in confusion at Cregan's sudden distress. "Is everything alright?"

Cregan crumpled the paper in his fist. "Ready my horse."

The brother of the Wall shook his head, "My lord, it is the bulk of winter. You can't possibly leave in such conditions. And you are not properly pack-"

"Ready. My. Horse. I leave within the hour."

The Warden of the North stormed away, a heaviness in his step from the sudden weight on his shoulders.

…

Cregan had always thought the travel to the Wall and back took too long on a good day.

Now, he was a mere bundle of nerves trying to tie what he could to his horse.

It would take too long. Whatever happened had happened and he wasn't there to save them.

To save her. 

He knew the guilt would eat his alive no matter how long it took him to get back. 

Surely another letter would arrive soon if things had turned for the better, but he wouldn't wait for that letter to show. 

The odds of one never arriving were too high.

"Are you certain of this, Lord Stark?"

He turned to the stable master with the hint of unshed tears in his eyes. "I'm not sure of anything. But I must return home."

The stable master nodded in acceptance, "And you're really not going to take men with you?"

Cregan huffed in frustration. "I cannot take men from the Wall. Their war is here. I cannot ask them to fight my own war as well."

"My lord, you're fighting both wars. Surely you can allow for some assistance."

Cregan hoisted himself up onto his horse. "I cannot promise when I'll return. But, should everything be righted, I will write back."

"If I may?"

"Yes?"

The man heaved a long sigh as placed his hands on his hips. "I wouldn't wish this feeling on my worst enemy, my lord. May the gods be with you on your journey and at your arrival."

Cregan bits the inside of his cheek. "Thank you."

With that, Cregan clicks at his horse, and the long journey began.

…

As expected, the journey was grueling. The cold was killing him from the outside in, but the constant need to stop and warm up was killing him from the inside out.

He couldn't even eat without thinking of the blood that stained the letter.

He couldn't sleep without thinking of the screams of his wife as another man's hands laid on her.

Even in the best case, the horror was too much to bare.

Despite his initial crumpling of the letter, Cregan kept it stashed away in his few belongings, smoothing it out and reading it every night before sleep consumed him. 

Just to crumple it again.

…

Despite the journey taking a usual two to three weeks when the weather was obedient, Cregan made it back to Winterfell in a week and half.

The consistent shiver to his bones only spurred him faster. 

He had plenty of time to consider his plan, should he truly be in need of one.

And now was the time to use it. 

…

Winterfell laid still. 

Cregan had expected fire and battle. A sound of swords clashing and men roaring.

Quietness was worse.

He had managed to get through the bulk of people with his hood up and his usual dire wolf cloak long abandoned. 

For in this moment, he was no Stark. 

He was a vengeful man.

He managed to sneak into the walls of the very place he should have been highly welcomed in.

For such a burly man, he was deathly silent. His boots made no sound on the stone floors, and his breath was so low that it may be thought that he didn't breathe at all.

He stood outside of his own chamber that he shared with his wife. He reached up and his hand faltered against the wood of the door. He couldn't dare open it.

"Oh, Lord Stark! Oh, thank the gods!" A female voice shrieked in relief.

Cregan flinched at the sound, turning on his heel to see the woman. His wife's handmaiden. He relaxed a bit.

"Oh. Sorry, milord. I didn't mean to frighten you. It's just I didn't know when you would return. Or if you'd return at all. And I-"

"Where is she?" He quietly interrupted.

The handmaiden stiffened and her face fell. "I… I dunno."

"She's not here?" He dared to ask.

She wrung her hands nervously. "You don't… you don't know?"

He tried to hold back his frustration. "Are they still here?"

She shook her head. "Left not long after the attack. Left just a few of us to pick up the pieces."

"And my wife? What happened to her?"

She let the silence set. 

He sighed in frustration and his hand moved to the chamber door.

"I wouldn't, milord," she warned.

He threw her a glare and dare to step in.

He should have listened.

The room laid in disarray. The furs from the bed were thrown on the floor. The furniture was moved, an obvious conflict had occurred. But that's not what Cregan's eyes moved to.

It was the scraps of clothing that were strewn across the room in various places. Some bloody.

His jaw went slack and he knelt down and picked up a strip of the cloth. Stark blue. 

His thumb rubbed at the fabric. He knew it well. His favorite dress on her. 

"They came in the early morning." The handmaiden spoke from the doorway. "Lady Stark had just gotten dressed for the day. I was… I was braiding her hair at the vanity when…"

"When..?" Cregan questioned. 

"It happened so suddenly. The screams."

He stood. "Who did it?"

"House Lannister."

Cregan took a deep breath. "Is she dead?"

"Milord-"

"-Was she slain by a Lannister?"

"No. Not exactly."

"What does that mean?"

"They took her. She could be dead now, I dunno. But they took her alive."

He felt a bit of relief move down his spine. "When you last saw her, she indeed was drawing breath?"

"Yes."

"Then that's enough for me. And Maester Tinedel?"

She tilted her head back and forth. "He lives. But barely."

He kept the fabric in his hand. "Take me to him."

…

"My Lord!"

"Please, don't get up on my account." Cregan stood at the elder man's bedside. "You're still healing."

The maester relaxed and leaned back against the headboard. "It takes more than a blade to change my loyalty, dear Cregan."

"You've been with me since the day I was born, old man," he teased. "And still you defend me when I am not there."

"There has been no greater honor."

Cregan pulled a chair to his bedside, sitting down. "Tell me what you remember."

"It's not a pleasant story for you, my lord. But very well." He leaned back in thought. "I was in my chamber. It was morning. I heard sounds from the corridor and I dared to go venture out. I defended as much as I could, but an old man is no match to young men with longswords. They took the lady from her room. As far as I know, they still have her-"

"-Do you know where they are now?"

"I'd assume they moved back to Casterly Rock. I have reason to believe that you have been betrayed by one of your bannermen, my lord. How else would they have gotten through the North so quietly?"

Cregan considered the man's words, running a shaky hand over his growing beard. "Who?"

The maester grunted as he sat up further. "I could hardly guess, my lord.

"Whoever it is, I'll murder him where he stands."

…

Gathering men together quickly was not a difficult task for Cregan.

Many men had skin in the game of thrones, and equally so, most were loyal unto death for their lord.

While most banner men would have answered a call to war, there wasn't enough time to gather an army while he was there, leaving the job to one of his closest bannerman, the Lord of House Bolton.

His mind laid in constant worry. 

…

In time, the men made it to Lord Reed, the last of the Northern Lords before being out of the North entirely. 

"'Tis truly a shame of what happened to the castle," Lord Reed said as he ushered Cregan further into Greywater Watch. "Any ideas of who might have done such an act?"

He shook his head, eyeing Lord Glover next to him. "No. No, we haven't. Hence why I don't have an army behind me."

"Well, that's understandable. Whoever did such a crime should be punished by all the gods alike, sneaking such an ambush like that."

Cregan nodded, "Yes, yes, they should. I thank you for housing us on such short notice."

Reed forced a smile. "Of course, Lord Stark." He continued moving down the hall. "The North would never sit by while a Lord's wife was taken from him."

Cregan's foot faltered. He paused completely. His voice was low. "I never said my wife was taken."

Lord Reed froze in pure fear at his mistake.

And he was shoved against the wall with Cregan's wolfish growl in his face. "Where is she?"

Reed gasped and fought against the man, but was no match. "I… I don't know what you mean, my lord… p… please.."

Cregan pulled him away by the throat to hit his head against the stone wall again, repeating himself. "WHERE IS SHE?"

Reed sputtered and groaned at the pain. "I… They didn't tell me… I swear…. I swear that to you."

"Your word means nothing to me." Cregan looked over his shoulder to Glover. "Write back to Winterfell. Tell them Lord Reed is dead."

"…My Lord?" Glover faltered.

"Tell them."

"Aye, my lord."

Reed shook violently in Cregan's grip. "I swear. I swear! I don't know! Please!"

Cregan leaned into the man's face. "You're gonna tell me what you do know. Aren't you?"

…

"Fucking Lannisters!" Cregan's voice roared through the Watch. "Get Glover. We're leaving now."

"My lord?" One of the men asked.

"Do what I said."

"Aye."

"May house Reed learn from its mistake."

…

Little did Cregan know yet, Loreon Lannister's brigade had been stopped by the Blackwoods, just shy of Lannister territory. 

The young Lord Benjicot Blackwood had rode out to meet them when word was sent of a brigade sneaking through his land. 

He raged at the sight of a terrified woman clad in a Stark blue dress. He vowed that the Lannisters would not see to their land should they refuse to surrender the woman to him.

Hence the small battle that had commenced.

But that was two weeks ago. 

Cregan looked over the land, the blood still staining the grass. "Think they made it?"

Glover hummed. "Lord Benjicot is a formidable enemy, I've heard. Wouldn't want to anger that boy in the slightest."

"Thank fuck!" A voice yelled over the field.

Lord Benjicot rode his horse out to the group in a fast trot. He spoke when he got closer "Knew you'd be quick but I figured it would be another few weeks."

"Don't underestimate angry northern men," Glover grimaced.

"Or Blackwoods, it seems," Cregan chimed in, looking over the field. "I believe I'm indebted to you in some capacity."

"Don't speak too soon, Lord Stark," Benjicot smiled. "You haven't asked how we faired."

Cregan's brows furrowed. "And how did you fair?"

Benjicot's smile grew. 

"We have her."

Cregan reached a hand out to steady himself on his horse from the sheer relief that swept through his body. "Gods…"

"Fucking bastards should have journeyed by sea if they were smart. Should've known that any ally of the Queen is an ally of mine."

"You have her then? In Raventree Hall?" Glover asked what they were all thinking.

"I do."

Cregan voice recovered. "Take me to her. Please."

…

"My lady?" One of the Blackwood handmaidens spoke up.

Y/n looked up at the woman. 

The faint hints of scratches and bruises were still on the lady's skin, but she had been given time to heal due to the Blackwoods' bravery. But regardless, the tremor in her hands remained. 

"I've been sent to inform you of a visitor that will soon be arriving."

Her heart leaped from her chest. She found herself moving more to the window and peering out. 

Cregan.

The man and his horse moved as one. It had always impressed her. 

Her sluggish behavior left the second he came into view. 

Not caring for her shoes, her cloak, anything, she ran past the handmaiden quicker than her feet could move. 

Tripping and stumbling along the way, ignoring the pain, she finally made it to the large doors of Raventree and bolted out of them.

Cregan had just pulled his horse to a stop when he caught sight of her.

He couldn't remember actually getting down from his horse he had gotten to her so quickly.

His strong arms held her to him in a vice grip, his hands indecisive of where to stay- her waist, her back, her hair, the constant need to feel her wholly gripped him.

Equally so, her arms wrapped around his neck firmly, as if to make sure he was real. 

"Fuck. Don't ever do this again," he sighed as he placed his chin on the top of her head. 

She sobbed lightly against his chest and her hands gripped his cloak so tightly her knuckles turned white. 

"Are you hurt?" He asked in worry. 

She hiccuped through tears. 

Cregan pulled her away, cupping her cheeks so he could study her. "Speak to me, pretty girl. Where are you hurt?"

She hiccuped again. "I… I'm fine."

"Where did they touch you?"

"Cregan…"

"Where?"

Benjicot had caught up at that point. "I wouldn't say they were delicate with her, Lord Stark. Most of it is faded, but the ones on her arms are rather nasty."

Cregan never looked away from her, keeping her eye contact. He tilted his head down, silently asking to gaze at her arms.

He hesitantly pulled her sleeves up and gawked slightly. 

Green bruises still remained at her wrists, no doubt from dragging her along. He tried to ignore the faint scabs from the scrapes that laid in various spots. 

"They did a number on you, didn't they?"

She looked at him fearfully, beyond nervous for his reaction to all of this. 

Benjicot spoke up again. "You've no idea." He placed a steady hand on the woman's back, ignoring Cregan's protective glare as he did so. "You're safe here. Why don't you show him?"

"Show me what?"

She turned to look over her shoulder at Benjicot, "Must I?"

Cregan was growing frustrated. If there was one thing he hated, it was no knowing things. "Show me."

She hesitantly nodded, and Benjicot stepped up to her, untying her bodice from the back. Once he did so, he spun her around to have her back face Cregan. Then he gently pulled down her sleeve until her right shoulder blade was exposed. 

A Lannister sigil was burned into the skin. Ugly scarring around the marred flesh. 

Her head was hung in shame as she stood there, avoiding eye contact with everyone. 

Cregan's hand came up to brush the skin achingly slow. He couldn't find words. 

Benjicot broke the silence. "Amidst this, there is good news."

"I guarantee there isn't," Cregan growled back quickly.

"I have Loreon Lannister under my care as well."

Cregan's head snapped to him. "What?"

"The man is in my dungeons, Lord Stark."

Cregan's hand moved up to Y/n's hair, brushing it aside to fully view what was exposed of her back. 

But his eyes couldn't move from the brand.

"Inside, you say? Still breathing?"

Benjicot let out an amused chuckle. "I refused to take that privilege from you."

Lord Stark's hand brushed her shoulder again. "I fear I owe the Blackwoods more than I own."

…

Not long later, Cregan stepped into her room. 

She turned her head towards him.

Cregan was covered in blood.

She stood suddenly. "Are you harmed?"

His brows furrowed, looking down at himself, as if forgetting all he had done. "Oh. None of it is mine."

"You killed him?"

Cregan sighed and shut the door. "We'll not discuss this now."

"Cregan-"

"-No. Don't ask again."

Her face fell a bit. She moved to the window and sat again. 

He watched her. "Forgive me. There's still rage in my heart."

"Still? Is it because of me?"

He faltered. "No. No, of course not." He rubbed his chin. "You did nothing wrong."

"If I had journeyed to the Wall with you that day, would you have been as angry if Winterfell was attacked?"

He paused as considered her question. "You know the answer."

She hummed and looked out of the window.

He followed her gaze. "Forgive me for taking so long."

"I watched out this window."

"I know you did."

"What if Benjicot hadn't have found me?"

He sat down next to her. "He did though."

"But what if he hadn't?"

Cregan dared to reach out and pull her hair aside, tugging her sleeve down to see the brand again. 

She finally turned to look at him with teary eyes. 

"I'd rather not think about those things," Cregan answered softly.

"Will you wash yourself, please?"

He paused, remembering the blood all over him. "Sorry, sweet girl. I didn't realize that would bother you so much. I will, I promise."

She looked back to the window. "Will we go home soon?"

Cregan stood to go to the washbowl across the room. "We will in time."

"What's stopping us, Cregan?"

He didn't have the heart to actually say that it was her. "Be patient, my girl, alright?"

…

Benjicot walked with Cregan down the corridor. "I apologize that I did not manage to capture Lord Jason. That will haunt me."

Cregan shook his head, "You've done much for the North. We'll not forget this act of kindness."

Benji grinned, "The North remembers."

"Indeed."

"Tell me something, my lord?"

Cregan nodded.

"What did you do in those dungeons?"

Cregan sighed, crossing his arms over his  chest. "I wouldn't want you to think differently of me, old friend."

Benjicot shook his head, "Nothing could do so, Cregan. You've seen me rather bloody. It's only fair."

He paused and considered his words, carefully phrasing himself. "A part of me hopes that his son doesn't find out what I've done to his father. It was almost too much to bare."

"What do you mean?"

Cregan pulled his dagger from his belt, running a hand over the blade. "I'll have to sharpen this later, if you understand what I'm saying."

Benjicot nodded. "I believe I do. But more context might be beneficial."

Cregan leaned forward and spoke lowly. "The dead man wears a sigil of mine in return."

The Blackwood's eyes looked down to the dagger and back to Cregan. "I see."

"If there truly is life after death, my friend, I hope he lives the next with my reminder."

"Surely, he would. I'd say you were merciful in ending him regardless."

…

Cregan rubbed her thigh absentmindedly as the maester inspected the brand. 

"It's healing well, but as you can imagine, it will leave behind a nasty scar."

Cregan clenched his jaw at the thought of his own wife living with a lion burned onto her. "No risk of a fever?"

He shook his head. "A clean burn like this rarely risks such a thing."

"Well, the north thanks you for your work."

The maester excused himself.

Since finding her again, Cregan had a difficulty understanding what she was going through. She was bottling everything up, he could tell. 

"Sweet girl?" He asked gently, continuing to rub at her leg.

"Is it ugly?" She responded quietly, her eyes fixed on the floor.

Cregan wasn't sure what to say to that. "It looks painful. Is it?"

She hummed, eyes still anchored. "It didn't hurt as much as the laughs."

"They laughed? While they did this to you?"

She nodded. 

Her hand moved up to pull her sleeve back up, but Cregan was quick to stop her, placing his hand over hers. 

She looked up questioningly.

"You're as gorgeous as the day I met you." His other hand moved hair behind her ear. "And as beautiful as the day I married you. As well as when I left for the Wall this winter." He leaned forward and kissed her cheek gently. "You're just changed is all."

"But the-"

"-Yes. Yes, it pains me to see it. But not because of what it is, but because you were hurt and I did not defend you as I should have."

Silence fell over them until she spoke up.

"Tell me I'm yours."

Cregan froze. "What?"

"I need to hear it. To really know."

"Well, you are. You know that."

"Please, Cregan."

Cregan stood from the bed, rounding it until he was behind her. He reached out and brushed the brand again, trying to ignore the shiver that went down her spine. "You're mine."

The words relaxed her, her shoulders moving down.

Cregan placed his hands on her shoulders, gently massaging them. "You belong to the Warden of the North." He grinned. "A vile and vicious beast intent on killing anything that nears it. Almost anything."

She smiled lightly, the first one in weeks. "And what is that one thing that the wolf likes?"

"A pretty she-wolf that brings down his defense."

One of his hands moved to the back of her neck and she all but melted, her head leaning back now. 

He continued this for a while, letting the silence sit, but he soon leaned down and placed a gentle kiss to the marred skin of her shoulder. 

"You're mine." He kissed her shoulder. "And I don't need a brand to prove so." He kissed behind her ear. "You know who you belong to, don't you?"

"…you, Cregan."

"Hmm?" He feigned. 

"You."

He smirked and nipped at her ear. "And who is that? Tell me."

She turned as much as her injuries could allow. Her voice softened as his eyes gazed into hers. "Cregan Stark. I belong to Cregan Stark."

"And I do to you, pretty girl."

He closed the distance, placing the softest kiss he'd ever managed onto her lips.

When they pulled away from one another, she spoke. "Do we get to return soon?"

He nodded, twirling her hair between his fingers. "Soon. I'm only waiting for Lord Bolton to arrive with the men."

"Th… what?"

He puffed out his chest in pride. "I don't do well with spoiled southerners. Bolton is riding an army to the border of Lannister territory, with Benjicot's permission, of course."

"An army? You can't start a war over me."

"I didn't start anything, my love." He kissed her again. "I only finish it."

.........................................................

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[rockingbytheseaside]

I love your art and headcannons! I was wondering if you can do a headcannon for the harbingers with reader helping them with their work. Like helping pantalone with papers in his office or dottore with experiments or just passing tools to him?

✦ You help them at work (or how they just want you to stay around)

Pierro, Capitano, Dottore, Scaramouche, Pantalone

✧ You felt heartbroken whenever Pierro relentlessly toiled as the Fatui Director. Hours spent at the imposing meeting halls of the Zapolyarny Palace or engaging in arduous negotiations for the organization's cause could hardly be enjoyable. Thus, concerned for your beloved’s well-being, you resolved to take on a more proactive role and assist The Jester on his behalf. 

“Today you will sit back and rest, Pierro. I will conduct your meetings… No buts or ifs.” 

The Harbinger blinked at you in wonder. Not because he disapproved of your presence, but because he vowed to work for your safety and comfort. However, you remained unyielding. Standing defiantly, with your hands on your hips, you announced that his stubborn protectiveness of you won’t change your mind. And who is he to deny you anyway? 

It seems you are the Fatui Director today. 

In his office, you meticulously tended to every minute detail. Whether it's preparing his tea, reorganizing essential documents, or double-checking all the archives and schedules. Any attempts from Pierro to assist would be met with you scolding him. And although he obediently stood back, he couldn’t help but smile fondly at your endearing sternness. If you take the lead, he is your loyal servant. Besides, whenever you conduct business negotiations on his behalf, things would always go accordingly (just don’t mind Pierro looming behind you, his icy glare threatening anyone you are talking with into obedience.) 

Once all was set and done, a sense of pride welled inside you, while Pierro mirrored your warm smile. You worked so hard to aid him… You just don’t have to know that he settled all difficult tasks in advance before you even entered his office. He was several steps ahead in everything, after all. Besides, he won’t argue when the result is him admiring your presence in his workplace. What truly matters now is the luxury of time to savor your love and hold you close without any worries about Fatui duties.

✧ When Il Capitano heard your suggestion to help, he felt worried. His work as a Captain required extreme physical exercise and was bodily taxing, regardless of the slower days when he overlooked the training of his specialized troops. Not only that but training under the strict regime of the 1st Fatui harbinger meant enduring a military-like attitude. And yet here you were, casually waving his worries off, promising to be an additional mentor training his soldiers.

“As long as you don’t wear yourself out, my loved one. It’s not just the fatigue and muscle soreness I worry about, but the attitude of my soldiers. They might not be as… lenient as you.” 

You soothed his concern every time he caressed your shoulder with worry or checked in on you. He was so tender when he was worried, you had to firmly hold his helmeted face and tell him sternly that everything would be alright. And how can he be worried when you smiled so easily at him? 

Thus, on the day of the soldiers’ training, Il Capitano introduced you as his equal and the additional instructor for today’s workout. You were such a stark contrast to the hard-faced troops who got used to battlefields and warfare. But you just stood there, waving casually… Perhaps you would fare well as the “forgiving substitute mentor”.

Alas, that was Capitano’s first mistake. 

Not an hour in, the group of soldiers you overlooked returned with bruises and distressed faces. Their gazes looked as if they saw unfathomable horrors, clutching their newly formed pains within their joints; the once stoic Fatui soldiers now flinched like children. When the Harbinger arrived to inspect, it seemed his worries were misplaced. Instead of you he should’ve been concerned about, he was now witnessing his troop being subjugated to merciless yelling from you as if his men never knew how to hold a weapon. 

That day, The Harbinger’s soldier begged him to never bring you as a substitute trainer again. At the very least, they never slacked off after that, in fear you might be brought back. Although secretly, The Harbinger could not deny his admiration. Who knew someone as cheerful and easygoing as his beloved would turn into a war machine when required? Your prowess never alluded him, but it definitely reminded him of your hidden allure to the smitten Captain.

“My moon and star, I am uncertain whether I can bring you back to my work once more. However, you must display your teaching methods in a spar for me in private, one-on-one.” 

✧ It wasn't at your suggestion that you found yourself in Il Dottore's laboratory, nor did he seek your assistance directly. Instead, it was one of his subordinates who came knocking on your door, bowing low. You were well aware of your beloved's tendency to hyper-fixate on his scientific endeavors, not welcoming any outside help that might divert his attention from his work. Nevertheless, a scowl crossed your face as you observed the desperate plea of the Fatui worker, imploring your aid.

“Please, I know I have no right to ask for anything, but you must help. The Doctor snaps at anyone who even breathes the wrong way. One wrong move and a scalpel will come flying straight at them. There is no other way to persuade our Lord Harbinger!”

You hummed wistfully but nodded - “I mean… I can help. Just bear in mind, I am no lab assistant. My aid will be minimal, but if it’s for Dottore, then I see where the issue lies.”

Thus, you found yourself paying an unexpected visit to your sweet Doctor’s lab. Precisely at the moment when one of his fiery reprimands was being delivered, a series of loud crashes reverberated from the imposing lab gates. Dottore was in the midst of an enraged explanation to his subordinates on why the rare Phlogiston from Natlan must not be wasted in excess when experimenting, his hand crashing on the metallic counter loudly.

“And if I found that any of you fools mishandles the Phlogiston, you will-”

“Will what?” Your voice interrupted, the Fatui assistant saw you approach from behind the Harbinger with your hands clasped behind your back. “What will happen, you said?”

Dottore froze. At your familiar voice, he casually turned to check on you, as if your mere presence in his workplace was an anomaly. Whatever lab tool or flask he was gripping was carefully put in its place. “Nothing. Nothing will happen, dear.” 

Hence, you chose to remain and offer assistance this time. Or rather, you quietly oversaw his laboratory work, providing minimal help without disrupting the actual scientific processes. You might argue that you hardly did anything that day, but the Fatui assistants? They were silently praying to the Tsaritsa’s merciful act of bringing a saint over here. Because the second your presence was known in this bleak, desensitized lab, Il Dottore’s attitude changed by a mile. 

He no longer snapped, slammed his fist onto counters, or even spoke loudly to his underlings. He suddenly turned tame. If he commanded something, and you interfered with his words, he would obediently change his mind as if you were the indisputable superior here.

“This testing is insufficient. We must retry it and double down on the sample for quicker efficiency-”

“Well, no, it's already late and it will be better to revise this experiment tomorrow.” - you stated simply, to which Dottore parroted with no hesitation. 

“You're right. It is late. The experiment will be revised tomorrow.” 

It's safe to say, the Fatui subordinates were left gawking that day. The formerly harsh and impatient doctor had transformed into a compliant child, allowing himself to proceed at a leisurely pace and follow your lead. Moreover, a simple touch on his shoulder from you or a soft smile would swiftly dissipate all his tension whenever he felt agitated. Not to mention you coaxed him to finish shift earlier for everyone. 

You should visit more frequently.

✧ Scaramouche hated having you help around in his work as a Lord Harbinger. Not because of your genuine consideration and effort, but because now he has to witness his foolish Fatui soldiers act all naive and joyous when you were around. 

Amidst a bustling workday of handling documents, gathering information, and conducting training sessions, time flew by effortlessly whenever you took charge. And the rest of the Balladeer’s subordinates adored you. You were easier to talk to, provided clear guidance, and attentively addressed any concerns affecting the mission or the staff. This stood in stark contrast to the Balladeer's snarky commands and derisive demeanor.

Alas, this is not why Scaramouche was standing with crossed arms, clenching his fists. One of the Fatui skirmishers was getting too comfortable with you as commander. Worst of all, your graceful smile was bestowed upon them, not him when he literally stood behind you. 

“Today's work has been completed.” - Lord Harbinger Scaramouche stated to his underlings. “You're dismissed. Now scram before I see any of your faces.” 

As the day progressed, you barely had a second to sit down, before a pair of slim arms encircled your waist tightly. Perhaps too tightly. Scaramouche’s face hung low on the crook of your shoulder, while his body pressed to your back with a mumbled grumble. - “Hm? What is it, Scara? I thought you were satisfied with the work done early.” 

"Don't waste your time helping the lazy fools. You’re supposed to stay with me a little while longer.” 

✧ Upon offering your assistance in advance, Pantalone's joyful grin would expand tenfold, reminiscent of a schoolboy eagerly welcoming his crush into his home. He would excitedly pace around, discussing arrangements to ensure your comfort. He'll bring your favorite beverages, perhaps some snacks, cancel all meetings so you'll have his undivided attention… 

“Pantalone, I said I will be there to help. Not go on a date.” 

But his head is not listening. Because once the day arrives and you begin to stride around in his office, he would remain stationary. Watching you with an adoring smile, hands clasped together. Whatever paperwork he was supposed to analyze was forgotten, and suddenly the 9th of the Fatui Harbingers forgot his own signature when you're around.

“Pantalone, are you listening? I reorganized these financial reports. And don't forget to reread the clauses in these receipts too… Are you still with me?” 

Yet all he could do was sit there and smile at how fondly you looked as a boss in his office. “...Yes dear.” 

You sighed deeply, knowing well he wouldn't accomplish any work today. However, after some gentle persuasion and the passage of time, you miraculously managed to guide your beloved into a state of complete concentration on his work. He sat behind his desk, engrossed in paperwork and skimming over documents. Adjusting his silver glasses, he then beckoned to you.

“Sweetheart? Could you step over here for a moment? I need you to review the numbers on these financial reports before I approve them. And your attention to detail has always been exceptional.”

You casually obliged, stepping next to his mahogany desk to look over the figures in the paper. Leaning over, you began reading, but Pantalone had other ideas. 

“Oh, this might be uncomfortable for you, dear. Come, sit here.”

Before you know it, you're pulled right over his armchair to plop comfortably onto his lap. And while you managed to determine that there was nothing faulty or inconsistent in the financial reports he is holding, you discerned his clever ploy - “Pantalone, these papers are already signed. There's nothing wrong with them.” 

However your beloved only beamed in triumph, his hands putting down the papers and coming to secure your place in his lap. 

“Oh, Is that so? Well, you’re already sitting here and it’s so comfortable. You can’t blame my longing for your continued presence, darling.” 

I’m still alive, I swear! Just busy exploring Natlan. Hope I didn’t sway too far off from the main suggestion with this fanfic. Thank you for reading ❣