#also the fact she doesn't wear them because it would make her seem less 'perfect'

[givemeallthesaintquartz]

Apple canonically is nearsighted and wears glasses in the books. That's it, that's the post.

[humanpurposes]

Mine All Mine

Michael doesn't have a lot of friends, nor does he want them. Now he thinks he might have found his perfect match, and he has no intentions of letting her slip away

Main Masterlist

Michael Gavey x unnamed female character

Warnings: 18+, smut, Michael Gavey being a little shit (affectionately), possessive behaviour (yk the drill here)

Words: 7k

A/n: This ended up leaning into more of a cuter side, I definitely wanna do something creepier with him at some point! Also available to read on AO3.

He gets to the room early, before the tutor has even arrived. It’s his first tutorial of the year and his first ever at Oxford. He stands straight with his head up and his hands unmoving, a picture of neutrality. He has his problem sheet in his satchel and runs through the questions in his head, not because he needs to, not because he doubts himself, but simply because he can.

He doesn’t even like maths all that much, but he’s always been good at it. He had considered doing something a little less straightforward, physics or economics, but then what would be the point in getting into Oxford to be anything less than perfect?

He knows his tutor’s name from his schedule, Stephen Breyer. He arrives only a few minutes later and they go inside. The tutorial room is small, with three of the four walls covered in bookshelves. In the centre of the room there is a table, an armchair on one side and a small sofa on the other. 

Michael takes the seat closest to the door. It puts him in a slightly more direct line of sight with Stephen. It also means his tutorial partner will inevitably have to climb over his legs to sit down and the thought amuses him.

“How are you finding it so far?” Stephen asks, unpacking a thermos flask and a notebook from his bag.

“It?” Michael repeats.

Stephen pauses and looks at him, slightly bewildered. “Well, the course, the college, Oxford. All of it.”

“Right,” Michael says. He takes his time taking out a pencil and his problem sheet before placing them on the table. He sits back against the sofa and rubs his lips together in thought. 

He supposes it’s been exactly as he had expected. Lectures have been fairly straightforward, Lincoln college looks the same as it had in the prospectus, and so far, most of the people seem insufferable. So many of them have no sense of urgency, no drive to truly succeed because to them, Oxford is a rite of passage rather than an earned privilege. He’s met maybe one person he’d consider worthy of his time, and even then, Oliver Quick is only a literature student. He might as well get a degree in overthinking.

Stephen is looking at him like he is still expecting an answer. Michael stares back. He’s never been one to bother with smalltalk. 

“Alright then,” Stephen says, then nods to the empty place on the sofa. “Do you know if–”

The door opens and a girl walks in, closing it gently behind her. “Sorry I’m late,” she says, eyes flickering around the room and settling on the space beside Michael. 

He’s seen her before, in lectures, in the dining hall, walking around the college with her little group of friends. He wouldn’t be surprised if they were all Cheltenham girls by the way they talk and dress in the stupid outfits rich girls wear to make themselves seem like normal people.

He watches her as she walks towards him, the awkward little smile she gives him before she steps over his legs. 

“Sorry,” she says again, falling onto the sofa. Michael almost winces at the sudden jolt of movement and the faint scent of a sweet perfume drifting from his left. “Had some trouble finding the room.”

“You’re right on time,” Stephen says, “we haven’t started yet.”

She’s better at the smalltalk than he is. She has a constant smile on her face and a bright look in her eyes, already having plenty of humorous anecdotes to share, despite the fact it’s only their second week. 

As they go through the questions on the sheet, comparing calculations and answers, Michael is horrified to find that he’s a little nervous. His throat feels dry and he can feel his heart pulsing in his chest. It’s her fault, he thinks. Everything about her is distracting, the sound of her voice, the satisfied little hum she makes when she realises she’s got another question right. Her black tights, the way her skirt rides up her thigh when she crosses her legs.

He wants to think she’s vapid, a pretty face dressed up in black boots and a denim jacket, but to his dismay, all of their answers are the same, down to every detail in their calculations.

That is until they reach the last question. It’s terribly complex and he had almost struggled with it. Almost.

He steals a quick glance at her sheet and notices their answers are different. Because she’s missed a step, he realises. He feels a smile creeping across his lips.

He proudly goes through his working out, delighted at the surprised look on her face as she goes over her own sheet.

“I got something different,” she says with a shrug.

Stephen invites her to talk through her answer. Her voice is quieter and softer than it was before, but not as defeated as he’d like.

“She has you beat there, Mr Gavey,” Stephen says.

It’s like being punched in the gut. “What?”

“Overextend yourself a little,” he explains, drawing a line through the last few calculations on his paper. “Make sure to read what the question asks of you.”

His blood is boiling and his fists are clenched. He doesn’t remember the last time he’s ever been wrong. A dangerous impulse in the back of his mind wants to scream his throat raw and tear his paper to pieces.

Then he feels a warmth settle over his knuckles. She’s placed her hand over his.

“It’s a compliment, really,” she says to him.

He looks up at her, only more infuriated by the gentle expression on her face. But he knows better than to let anger get the better of him. It will only leave him feeling ashamed. So he forces a smile and nods. “Thank you.”

She smiles too, sweet and reassuring. 

He can’t bear the humiliation. Once they’re dismissed he packs up quickly, practically storming out of the room before she even has a chance to stand up. 

He spends the rest of the day in his dorm, looking over the same problem and pulling at his hair, because now his mistake seems glaringly obvious. How could he be so useless? So careless as to not even read the fucking question properly?

His room is on the second floor, overlooking the quad. There are always people around, walking between classes, sitting on the grass, their voices and the smell of cigarette smoke rising and drifting in through his window. He hates it. He hates the noise, the distraction.

But as he goes to close the open window he spots her. It’s only for a moment. She’s walking towards the library with her hands in the pocket of her jacket and her backpack slung over one shoulder. She’s not with any of her preppy friends, in fact she looks rather solemn. 

He feels a slight twinge of guilt in his gut. Perhaps he had been a little unfair to her in their tutorial.

He keeps noticing her, especially at meal times and during lectures. Whenever he enters a room he finds himself searching for her, and if he cannot find her, he waits for her to appear. He plays guessing games with himself, waiting to see what outfit she’ll wear, the pretty mini skirt or a pair of faded blue baggy jeans. If she’ll be with her friends or if she’ll be alone.

He never approaches her. He waits for her to look at him, and once they’ve made eye contact she’ll smile at him.

He likes watching her, and comes to the conclusion that she is charming and polite, but not overbearing, and that’s what's so intriguing about her. She knows how to talk to people, even the most insufferable of their peers, but she’s not nearly entitled enough to truly be one of them.

It’s a Friday evening the next time they actually speak. The library tends to be quieter at this time and he has a textbook to look over before his next lecture. Only, when he goes to find the book, he discovers the last copy has been checked out a matter of minutes ago. Fucking typical.

He goes to stalk out of the library, debating whether or not he can be bothered to ask Oliver if he wants to grab a drink in The King’s Arms, when he sees her.

She’s alone, with her chin in her palm, writing in a notebook as she looks at the textbook open in front of her. He’s willing to bet that’s exactly the book he needs.

He approaches her slowly, waiting for her to look up and notice him, but she seems utterly absorbed in what she’s doing. Only when he puts a hand on the back of her chair and leans over her shoulder does she react to him.

He sees her jump when he gets too close. “Jesus Christ!” she hisses, clutching her hand over her chest.

“Sorry,” he mutters, still hovering over her. “Did I frighten you?”

She hums a laugh but composes herself quite quickly. She turns her head to look at him. “I’m guessing you want the book?” she says, her breath fluttering over his cheek.

He straightens his back so he can look down at her. “Will you have it for long? Only I think I’ll get through the reading quite quickly.”

“Oh yes of course, you’re a genius, right?” she says with a grin.

Irritation scratches under the surface of his skin, hot and restless. That’s how he usually introduces himself, but it’s the truth. 

“We could just share,” she says, gesturing to the empty seat beside her, “that is, unless you don’t think I’ll be able to keep up.”

There’s something exciting about the way she holds his gaze, the hint of a smile on her lips.

She offers to go back a page so he can catch up and admittedly, he skims through, only writing down a few notes before he tells her to move on. He can find the book again if he really needs to.

He has to lean over his left arm rather significantly to read the book properly. She notices this, and pushing it closer to him, shuffling her chair over to follow. They’re close enough that he can smell her perfume again.

“None of your little friends around then?” he asks quietly, so as not to disturb the other students.

“What?”

“That group of girls,” he says, “I’ve seen you sitting with them in the dining hall.”

She brings her chin back to her palm but doesn’t look up from her notes. “They live on my floor. I don’t need to spend every waking moment with them.”

“Touchy subject?” he asks, perhaps a little too hopefully.

His heart leaps in triumph when she looks up at him. “No. I’m just not sure I’d count them as friends, necessarily.”

“Why not?” he asks.

“Not my kind of people,” she says.

“Why not?”

She frowns briefly. He thinks she might scold him for being so direct, for asking so many questions, for being too intrusive. But she doesn’t.

The textbook is forgotten. She tells him about the village where she grew up, a sad little place by the sounds of it. She spent most of her schooling surrounded by the same twenty or so kids.

“For a long time, I knew there was something people didn’t like about me,” she says. “I didn’t understand why. I was never rude or cruel, I just kept my head down and did my work. The other girls told me I was a freak, the boys used to tease me, pull my hair, tear pages out of my books. Mum said people hated me because I was clever. Dad said I should stop complaining. So I did.” 

He can’t help but draw a comparison to himself. He can feel it when he meets someone new, the inherent distrust, the sense that there is something inherently unlikeable about him. In a way he likes that people are unnerved by him because at least it’s something he can control. He has never been one for friends or common ground, a consequence of being the smartest person in every room.

He watches her intently as she tells him about a private school a few miles outside of her village, a proper posh place, Victorian buildings and sprawling estates. For her, it was her one chance of escape, and while her parents worked hard to make ends meet, the only way she was going to get in was with a scholarship. So she worked for it, got all A*s in her GCSEs, started at the posh school, and from there, set her sights on Oxford.

“You’re rather deceptive,” he says.

She smiles at him. “It’s not like I lied. Were you expecting a daddy’s money brat?”

“There’s enough of them about,” he says.

She huffs a laugh and rolls her eyes. “Fucking tell me about it.”

They start to make a habit of studying together, at first it’s by coincidence, and then she gives him her number so they can organise themselves more effectively. They meet at the library every Friday to share a textbook or go over problem sheets, in preparation for their lectures. They even start to meet before their tutorials together, to compare answers and make sure neither of them are left out. Sometimes they go for coffee after their classes, and branch off to chat about things that aren’t maths.

He tells her about the grammar school he went to, that most of the boys there were rugby playing morons. He tells her about his family, his mum, his dad, the family cat that’s been around longer than he has. He tells her about his summer, running numbers for his uncle’s accountancy firm.

She tells him about the posh school, that starting at a boarding school was like being thrown into a different universe. Sure, she had been the odd one out and got the odd “povo” comment, but it was the first place where she had felt like she didn’t have to be ashamed of her own intelligence. She learnt how to fit in, to the point where he can’t tell if she actually likes her preppy friends or if she just puts up with them for the sake of it.

He starts to wonder if he could consider her a friend. He likes that she’s smart and sharp, the slight air of competition when they compare notes or go through a problem together. He likes challenging her, making her second guess herself, watching the way she squirms and tries to hide that she’s flustered. Just once, he thinks it would be fun to one-up her, but of course, she never slips up, and she never makes a mistake.

On Halloween she mentions a party at Magdalene College being hosted by one of her old school friends. Of course he’s sceptical. Hanging around a bunch of stuck up posh kids, who no doubt will all be in slutty costumes and getting off on each other’s egos, isn’t exactly his idea of fun. Although, part of him is intrigued to see her in a different setting.

So he agrees to meet her outside her dorm at 10pm exactly. He doesn’t bother with fancy dress, opting for jeans and a black jumper so that he can just fade into the background. 

She appears with some of her preppy friends. They’re all in pastel dresses of differing colours, matching wings strung on their backs, glitter on their cheeks, a little pack of fairies. She’s in white mini dress that floats around her thighs as she moves, more like an angel.

She introduces him enthusiastically to the girls, already giddy from their pre-drinks, pink gin and rosé. None of them seem that interested by his presence and he grunts in response. 

She links her arm through his as they walk over the cobbles, through the maze of ancient buildings to the dorm where the party is being held. She talks about everything and nothing. She tells him who’s going to be there, who’s been uninvited but might show up just to stir shit, how many girls are going to be there and that they’re all going to be trying to get into Felix Catton’s Calvin Kleins.

“Are you going to get with anyone?” she asks.

He makes a sound of disgust.

“Come on, Michael, live a little!” 

He shakes his head. ��I don’t think– I don’t know–”

She puts her hands on his shoulders and turns him to face her. “Have you kissed anyone before?”

He swallows thickly. It’s not something he’s ever been ashamed of before, now it feels like a weight crushing down on his chest. “No,” he says, simply, determined to remain indifferent.

“Get with someone tonight!” she says excitedly, “just for the fun of it, we’ll find you someone good.”

He hates the idea, but he doesn’t have the heart to tell her. Perhaps it seems like fun to her, but to him it seems like an impossibility, and he thinks he’d rather have the consistency of being unwanted.

The party itself is loud and sparsely lit by neon lights. He starts off on bottles of beer to ease himself into it, but seeing everyone else is doing pills and white lines, he thinks he might need something stronger to get through the night, especially when she keeps getting distracted. The angel is quite the social butterfly and insists on saying hello to everyone, even the people she’s never met. 

He finds himself in a common room and reaches for a bottle of whisky and a cup when he spots her. She’s leaning against a wall, wings discarded on the floor beside her. A tall boy, wearing nothing but jeans, a pair of feathery costume wings and a horrible Carpe Diem tattoo on his forearm, has his hands on her waist. She’s smiling and giggling into his neck every time he goes in to kiss her. Of all the girls Felix could go after.

His skin feels tight. He fears if he keeps having to watch this little display he’ll retch his guts up, and yet he’s utterly hypnotised by it, the way she had her arms around his shoulders, the way her fingertips trace the base of his neck. And fuck, he’s never seen her look so beautiful.

He ends up downing the rest of the whisky straight from the bottle and most of the night becomes a blur after that. At some point he thinks he starts trying to talk to one of her pastel fairy friends. He doesn’t catch her name, and he wouldn’t care to remember it anyway. She plays with his glasses, tries them on and giggles hysterically. He thinks she must be completely off her face, considering the look of utter disgust she had given him at the start of the night.

Somewhere in the noise of the party she throws her arms around his neck and they sway clumsily to the overwhelming bass of the music. He thinks he feels her lips graze his cheek, his jaw, his neck, but where he can help it, he keeps his eyes on his angel. Felix has one of her legs around his waist and his hands halfway up her skirt. 

Fuck this.

He pushes the nameless girl off him and storms over to put an end to the scene before him. He grips Felix by his shoulders to pull him off her, grabs her by the arm and drags her out of the dorm. He doesn’t look back to see if Felix protests, he’ll probably find some other throat to stick his tongue down. 

She tries to shout over the music. “Where are we–”

“I’m tired,” he snaps, bringing his face in close to hers. He gets closer than he means to, pressing his nose and his forehead against hers. He’s breathing fiercely, he realises, desperate to contain the full extent of his anger, his jealousy. “I want to leave.”

She stares back at him with parted lips, and nods.

He feels better the moment they’re outside, away from the disorientation of the party. He takes deep breaths of the night air, cold and sharp in his lungs. He snatches off his glasses, runs his hands over his face and his hair to find himself drenched in sweat.

His angel tucks herself in against him, under his arm, huddling her arms around herself and shivering.

“Do you want my jumper?” he says. His voice and the words on his tongue feel strange. His limbs feel weightless as he pulls it off and helps her into it. 

“Hmm, thank you,” she says dreamily, clinging onto his arm as they stumble back to Lincoln College. He burns where she touches him, her fingertips digging into his skin. He loves it, and hates that her hands were on someone else before him.

“You were getting rather cozy with Miranda,” she says.

“Who?”

“Lilac fairy costume,” she says, playfully hitting his arm. “Did you kiss her?”

His heart sinks. He presses his lips together but she doesn’t seem to pick up on his annoyance. “No,” he says with a tight jaw.

“Oh no,” she says, looking up at him with a comically sad pout. 

“It’s not important,” he says.

“It’s your first kiss! Or should have been your first kiss. It’s important. Did you at least have a good time before you got tired?”

“No,” he says, “your friends are all imbeciles.”

They walk the rest of the way back to her dorm in silence. He makes sure she has her keys, holds her face between his hands and tells her to drink a whole glass of water before she falls asleep. 

She leans into his touch with a sleepy smile. “Yes, yes, I will,” she whines.

The sound stirs a wanting in his stomach. Suddenly his heart is beating faster than it ever has before.

“And call me if you need anything–”

“Would you want to kiss me?” she asks.

His eyes flicker down to her lips. His hands are still cupping her cheeks. “What?”

Her eyes are wide and alert. “I just mean, I could be your first kiss, if you wanted to.” She places her hands on his wrists, tracing her fingertips over his skin, along his forearms. It’s such a simple touch, and yet he can feel it driving him slowly insane. 

He imagines her hands running over the rest of his body, down his chest, his stomach, teasing over the growing hardness in his jeans.

“You’re drunk,” he whispers, terrified of how desperate his voice might sound.

She rises onto her toes, inching her face closer to his, drawing her nose over his cheek. “So?” she says, lips brushing over his skin, “I promise it’ll feel good.”

Their lips find each other in a simple movement. It’s easier than he thought it would be, following the movements of her mouth, letting his hands fall from her face and rest on her waist. He can feel her breathing, the little hums she makes as she kisses him and runs her hands through his hair.

He decides, in that moment, that she is perfect. She is bright and beautiful, passionate and kind, soft and sharp, everything he wants for himself, the only person he has ever felt a need for. That need burns through his bloodstream, goes straight to his head and makes his mind hazy. It tightens in his gut and only makes that wanting feeling in his chest feel emptier. His heart races, his trembling hands graze over the thin, silky material of her dress.

His glasses come askew. He feels her smile against his lips and it feels good. Really fucking good.

His hands clench into a firmer grip on her waist. He needs to keep her close, to touch her, feel her, know she wants this as much as he does.

Only she’s slipping away.

Her hands come away from his neck and the cold night air stings his skin in her absence. She pulls her head away, not abruptly, but that’s the pain of it. He leans forward to chase her lips but he has no choice but to let her go in the end.

She looks up at him with a vague smile. “See? It’s nice, isn’t it?”

Nice in the moment. Pure torture that he’ll have to spend the rest of the night clinging onto the memory, only able to imagine how good it felt.

After that night he cannot escape the thought of her, when he’s in his lectures, when he’s in the library, when he’s walking between classes, when he’s in the dining hall. If he’s with her he cannot help but notice every little detail about her, her clothes, her hands, the colour of her nail polish, every micro expression, every word, every laugh, every sigh.

And when he’s alone, he can’t help but picture her in that white dress, the sound of her voice, the feel of her lips. He can’t help but imagine what it would be like to run his hands over every inch of her skin and make her a breathless, whining mess. When he’s in his dorm, it’s inevitable that his hand will end up dipping into his boxers, stroking himself until he spills over his knuckles with a grunt or a whisper of her name.

He’s never known himself to be so distracted.

Worst of all is the rage that comes with the wanting. He hates walking into the lecture hall to see her chatting to someone else, seeing her with her preppy friends around the college or drinking with that old school friend in the King’s Arms. None of them deserve her. None of them. Does she even realise it? How long before she loses herself, before she decides she doesn’t need him?

He knows he’s not a sentimental person. He doesn’t have a lot of friends nor does he want them. People have come in and out of his life, but this girl is different. He feels a draw to her, a hunger that he can’t satiate with his own imagination. She is everything he wants for himself, and he has no intentions of letting her slip away.

As Michaelmas terms comes to an end, the colleges and libraries are covered with garlands and wreaths. Despite the lingering worry in the back of his mind, Michael is rather happy with his collection of outcasts, though poor Oliver Quick seems rather unhappy at being a designated Norman-No Mates. 

He finds it easier to get her attention as the term and the workload progresses. They’ve had tutorials and summative assignments, and she’s finally starting to struggle. 

And then there was the incident about the scholarship. One of the preppy friends let slip that she wasn’t paying for her tuition fees or her accommodation, likely done out of jealousy after she’d gotten close to Felix at the Halloween party. He was there for her with a perfectly good shoulder to cry on when half the girls in her dorm started teasing her for it.

He tells her that she doesn’t have time to get distracted with parties or friends who won’t help her succeed. 

He’s sitting at a table in the library, ready for one of their Friday evening study dates. She’s late but soon hurries in, pulling off the thick red scarf she has wrapped around her neck and shrugging off her denim jacket.

He has the textbook open at the right page and places a Crunchie in front of her when she sits down.

“Did you know there was a college Christmas party tonight?” Michael asks as she takes down her notes. “We’re NFI, apparently. Not fucking invited.” He’d checked his pigeonhole, and Oliver’s for good measure. 

In the corner of his eye, he sees her look up from her notebook. 

“As if we’d actually want to hang out with those vapid cunts,” he says, laughing to himself. He turns his head to check if she’s laughing too.

She doesn’t look very amused. “Actually, I was going to ask if you wanted to come with me,” she says.

He pauses, hovering his pencil over his worksheet. “You got an invitation?” he says quietly.

“Yeah,” she says, “I was chatting with some of the literature guys the other day, you know Farleigh Start–”

“What the fuck were you talking to him for?” He asks in a voice like ice.

She stares at him with wide, almost accusing eyes. “What, am I not allowed to talk to anyone besides you?”

“They’re not worth your time so stop acting like a fucking bootlicker” he hisses. “They’re all self-obsessed and cruel, and I don’t know why you’re so desperate for their approval.”

“Desperate,” she echoes.

The silence of the library is screaming at him. He has an awful feeling in his stomach, like he’s done something wrong, like he’s pushed a little too far.

It’s Halloween all over again. He can feel her slipping away, and he can’t reach out for her, can’t hold onto her and make her stay where he wants her. He curls his fists as he feels his body start to tremble.

“I guess I won’t waste any more of your precious time then,” she says sharply as she starts to pack up her things.

“No,” Michael utters. He reaches his hand up as if to stop her but she stands up, out of his reach. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

She throws on her jacket, wraps her scarf around her neck and turns around, glaring down at him with sad, glassy eyes. “I need to get ready,” she says. “Enjoy the rest of your night.” Then she sweeps out of the hall with a cold rush of air and a slam of the doors.

Michael groans and lets his head fall into his hands. How had he managed to fuck up that badly? 

He can’t think about the problems on the sheet in front of him, or think about the reading from the textbook. All he can picture is her in some skimpy dress, letting some sick trust fund baby put his hands all over her. It makes him want to tear his hair out. 

He stays there until the evening has turned to night, until any other stragglers have left the library, to attend this stupid Christmas party or to make their own fun.

He can’t understand why she keeps trying to befriend the people who would abandon her the moment they got bored of her, the very same people who shamed her for her scholarship. 

He’d never leave her, never let her feel anything less than worshipped.

When he finally packs up his bag he finds himself walking to her dorm. A few girls are leaving as he arrives at the building and he easily slips in while they’re busy chatting. He knows which floor she’s on, and then all he has to do is find her name on one of the doors… and there it is, under the number 205. Perfect.

He glances up and down the hall. It’s deathly quiet. He wonders how many students have already cleared out of their rooms, how many will be at this party, at the pub with their friends.

He can hear music on the other side of the door, a voice singing softly to a song he doesn’t know.

He brings his knuckles up and taps four times against the wood.

She seems happy when she opens the door, but her face falls when she realises it’s him.

He buries his hands in his pockets, keeps his chin down as he looks up at her. “I need to talk to you,” he says.

She sighs and purses her lips, but steps aside enough for him to come into her room. 

It’s not as neat as he imagined, but it’s cosy. There are photos and posters all over the walls, clothes strewn everywhere, an opened makeup bag on the floor by the mirror, pieces of paper and used mugs on the desk. His eyes are drawn to her bed, to the colourful comforter tossed carelessly over the duvet and the pile of mismatched pillows. It smells like her perfume, and something else that is distinctly her.

A red dress hangs on the front of her wardrobe, her outfit for the party, he guesses. For now she’s dressed in her favourite pair of baggy jeans and a tank top, her hair slightly damp and her skin dewy.

She sits on the edge of her bed with her legs crossed. She doesn’t prompt him, but he knows what she wants to hear.

He stands in front of her, his knees almost touching the bed. He tries not to look at the cut of her tank top, the way it clings to her torso and teases the swell of her breasts.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles. “You were right, I was being unfair.”

She looks up at him, furrowing her brows and catching her lip between her teeth, like she always does when she’s thinking. It makes his stomach drop. 

“You can be cruel too, you know that?” she says, “and so full of yourself, but you hold it against everyone else you meet.”

“But I’d never lie to you,” he says, “and I’ve never pretended to be someone I’m not.”

She keeps frowning. “Neither have I.”

He hums a laugh. He can’t help but reach for her, taking her chin between his fingers. She doesn’t flinch away, doesn’t question it when he gently strokes his index finger over her cheek. “Silly girl,” he says, “you care too much about what people think of you. You’re smarter than that, but you’re happy to hide it.”

Her breath hitches as tilts her head further back and lets his thumb drag over her lower lip.

“Michael,” she utters, pressing her palms against his chest, but not enough to push him away. Her hands grip at the collar of his jumper and she nudges her nose against his.

He doesn’t know where the sudden recklessness comes from. Perhaps it’s in the way she said his name, the way her eyes are gazing up at him, but every part of him feels hollow. 

He leans in closer. “Why bother? Why do you want to dumb yourself down when I could just fuck you stupid?” 

She leans in to kiss him and he indulges her, letting his hand settle against her cheek as they clash together in a mess of lips and tongues. It’s more frantic than the night of the Halloween party, wetter, clumsier.

She comes up onto her knees, snaking one of her hands down to the hem of his jumper.

“Have you fucked a girl before, Gavey?” she says between their kisses. He can feel her smiling.

“No,” he says, practically tearing his jumper and his shirt off, “but I’ve thought about it a lot.”

“Anyone in particular?” she says, palming over the bulge in his jeans.

“Who do you fucking think?”

His hands are on the buttons of her jeans, ripping them open, dragging them down her legs before she’s on her knees again. He slips his hand between her legs, against her clothed centre and she ruts against him like a bitch in heat.

With his other hand he grabs at her waist, impatiently pulling her tank top over her head to reveal a lacy black bra underneath. He can’t stop himself, planting firm, desperate kisses over the flesh of her chest as he undoes the clasp.

He tosses her bra aside and takes one of her nipples in his mouth, sucking and circling his tongue over the sensitive bud. He loves how she whines for him, how she runs her fingers through his hair and pulls when it feels good.

And then her phone rings.

She sighs in frustration before she shoves Michael away and crawls over to the table by her bed. 

Michael groans at the loss, wanting nothing more than to grab her and pull her back across the bed. “Who is it?” he asks, adjusting his glasses.

“Could be Farleigh, or one of the girls, I said I’d meet them before the party–”

That’s all he needs to hear. In an instant he’s on top of her, pinning her wrist to the mattress so she can’t reach her phone, legs on either side of her body as he presses her down.

She writhes underneath him, unintentionally grinding her rear into his crotch. She tries to turn her head over her shoulder, but it’s hard when she’s caged in underneath him. “Michael! What the fuck are you–”

“When are you going to get it into that pretty little head that you don’t need them?” he says, letting his lips brush against the shell of her ear. He feels her shudder, feels her heartbeat racing against his chest.

“I know I don’t need them,” she says.

“Hmm,” he says, leaning back to undo his jeans enough to free his hard and eager cock. I’m not convinced.”

He takes his time pulling her panties down her legs, kneads at her thighs and her ass, pulls her hips up and parts her legs so he can get a look at her slick, glistening cunt. He’s almost fascinated by it, drawing his thumb through her folds, noticing how she reacts to his touch, the sounds she makes, the way she fists the bedsheets when he gets close to her clit, but just enough to keep her on edge.

“I could be so good to you,” he says, leaning down to press a kiss to her shoulder, “so fucking good, so why do you act like you don’t need me?”

“I do,” she breathes, interrupting herself with a light moan when he presses firmly against her clit. “I do need you.”

“There you go, you’re starting to get it,” he coos, circling over her most sensitive spot with the pads of his fingers. He may not have the practice but he has the knowledge, and he needs this to feel good for her.

She responds beautifully, sighing and rocking her hips against him, and she just melts when he presses the tip of his cock against her entrance.

He has to push harder than he expects, pausing when she gives a little yelp of what sounds like pain, but she assures him she’s fine.

He grabs her hip for leverage, hissing through his teeth as he pushes in deeper. She’s so tight, so wet, so warm.

“You can move,” she says, letting her head fall against her arm. “Please, I need it.”

He starts slowly, focuses on the drag of his cock through her, the way she stretches around him, but he can’t hold back for long. Once he finds a rhythm he gets a little more reckless, snapping his hips against her rear, keeping his harsh grasp on her flesh as he fucks her into the mattress.

Her moans are heavenly and obscene. She’s given up struggling but she’s trying to look at him, trying to touch him but she can’t. She calls his name and it sounds so pathetic but so endearing.

He chuckles lowly to himself. “Silly little slut, didn’t know what she was missing, did she?”

“No,” she whines. He can feel her clenching around him and he doesn’t know how much longer he’ll be able to last. “Fuck, Michael, it feels so good…”

He pulls out of her, only to turn her back and slam back in. Suddenly she’s all over him, running her hands down his torso, wrapping her arms around his neck. She has her face buried into the crook of his neck, grazing her lips, tongue and teeth over his skin. 

It feels good to have her close, but he’s still not entirely satisfied. 

He pulls away to hold her down again, one hand on her throat, the other on her stomach. “Mine.” he huffs as he picks up the pace of his thrusts. “All mine. Fucking say it.”

She places her hands over his, urging him to hold her tighter, press harder. “Yours,” she utters, “all yours.”

“Good fucking girl,” he groans, and feels her respond to his voice, cunt fluttering, back arching, another whine sounding in her throat— maybe she likes that. “My clever little girl.”

He feels her come undone around him, back arching as he lets out a breathless moan, practically squeezing him to his own release.

He pulls out and with a few strokes of his hand, paints her belly and her thighs with his spend.

She’s trembling, smiling, reaching out to touch him again, grabbing at his wrists and pulling herself up. She guides him to lay back in the bed and straddles him, tracing her finger over his lips, his jaw, along his nose to push his glasses up for him. He can hardly see through them, the lenses fogged up and smeared with sweat.

“That was fun, wasn’t it?” she says.

“Yeah,” he breathes, pawing at her hips, watching his cum as it drips down her body. He can feel a sense of pride swelling in his chest, the arousal in his gut starting to tighten again.

He gasps when she drags her wet cunt over his already hardening cock. “You.. want to go again?”

She tilts her head, looking down at him with that familiar excited look in her eyes as her mouth spreads into an eager grin. “You’re adorable,” she says, tracing her fingertips over his chest, down the lines of his abs, to the trail of thin hair on his navel.

She leans down, reaching between them to take his cock in her hand, moving with agonisingly slow strokes. When he tries to protest she silences him with little more than a peck on his lips, before she trails down to his throat. “I stand by what I said, Gavey, and you’re not leaving this bed until we’ve taken that ego of yours down a notch.”

Tags (comment to be added)

General taglist: @randomdragonfires @jamespotterismydaddy @theoneeyedprince @tsujifreya @dreamsofoldvalyria

[youcouldmakealife]

Masking, YCMAL edition

So, after the general info on masking, here's how it specifically looks like and impacts some of the 'verse's characters.

I think I kind of need to preface this with the fact that a lot of my characters have neurodivergent traits because, well. I do. I don't know how a neurotypical person thinks, the same way a neurotypical person doesn't know how a neurodivergent person thinks. You can read about the experience, and, despite shitty stereotypes to the contrary, you can empathize with it, but the wiring of the brain is literally different.

So when I'm listing characters here as neurodivergent, I either a) set out to write them that way or b) in hindsight can't deny that their experiences are written through a very specifically neurodivergent lens. Someone not being explicitly labelled as ND doesn't necessarily mean they aren't, I just..really don't want to go back through my entire 'verse applying diagnoses the same way I happily slap an MBTI or enneagram or kindergarten teacher/assassin label on them, because that feels wrong.

But if you're neurodivergent and see something in a particular character that makes you feel seen, I'm not going to tell you 'nah man, they're actually neurotypical'. Especially because literally every single one of them was written by someone neurodivergent.

Anyway! Canonically ND characters and their masks:

David: masks extensively. Generally does his best for 'unobtrusive, pay no attention', unsure why it doesn't seem to work (mostly because he's talented and beautiful, so it seems less 'unobtrusive' and more 'I think I'm better than you', which isn't helped by the fact that often when the mask does slip, it's to show frustration, contempt, or disdain -- think at the All-Star Game his rookie year, or several points early on with Jake. Also does not help that he often does think he's better than people.)

Bryce: Still laughing at 'straightsona' used to describe Bryce out with his teammates, because it's perfect. His 'I don't care, I'm hot as shit, bitches love me' dickhead behaviour was him picking up those behaviours from popular peers and teammates over the years, partly mistaking that for the reason they were popular (rather than being seen as boy kings making them callous or arrogant), and partly viewing them as the exemplar of someone no one would predict was gay. Jared's worst enemy.

Speaking of, honourable mention to Raf Sanchez AND Julius Halla here, Jared's going around collecting neurodivergent loved ones all through IJ(aoe).

James: 'unobtrusive, pay no attention', much more successfully than David, partly because he has a mouthpiece in the form of Finn. His crashing after road trips is partly extended overstimulation and change, but it's also having to wear the mask more extensively, because he has much less time to himself, especially when he shared a room. (He's mostly unmasked with Finn, that's why Finn is his exception to a lot of No People things, but he wasn't at the beginning).

Holden: Also kind of 'I don't care, I'm hot as shit, bitches love me', but...ironically? He doesn't mask as much as the others, and because of that, he frequently drives away people who originally seem to like him and wonders why. Has been described as 'a lot'.

Fiona: Literally will not leave the house without a full face of makeup and a pair of heels or she'll feel exposed and vulnerable, and putting her make up on is how she prepares to be Outside Fiona. She's very perky and friendly at work. The second she gets home it's an 'uggggh' moment and straight into the shower to decompress/literally unmask. She's more aware than any of the guys that she's putting on a performance, partly because she grew up with all those 'girls are expected to be...' followed by a list of things she definitively wasn't. Has also been described as 'a lot'.

Finn: And How May I Be of Service To You Today?

Now this is where it gets kind of interesting because like -- people often have facades. That's not a neurodivergent only thing. People can be fake, or posture, or pretend to be something they're not. Mike, for example, will lean into the big macho asshole when he's put on the defensive, Willy is Always Performing, Thomas is sunshine even when he doesn't really feel like being that, Robbie will play the buffoon to make people laugh if he thinks they need it, half of Joey's rants are playing to the cheap seats.

Like, there's a difference between pretending you're somebody else sometimes, or behaving inauthentically, and full on 'yeah, they're masking'.

But Georgie is masking. Georgie is, at all times, evaluating his surroundings, monitoring people's emotions and reactions (especially to him), and behaving in the manner he thinks is most likely to lead to his being liked. And he was already doing that when Robbie met him, but it's intensified significantly since.

I think that's where the biggest difference lies between some of the above ND characters and Georgie? David, for example, doesn't care if he's liked (like, yes he does, but also...no). The mask is for safety/to minimize vulnerability. David's in particular was tweaked to get praise and avoid criticism from his parents (didn't work), teachers, and coaches (worked much better), not so much for his peers.

But Georgie's isn't for safety. Georgie doesn't manage his behaviour to avoid harm, Georgie wants people to like him. And he's discovered that people don't seem to like him when he does certain things, or acts certain ways, or needs things from them, so he just...doesn't do those things.

Finn's interesting because he has both forms. Please like him it'll break his heart if you don't.

[multifandom-aroace]

Gwen's wardrobe in season five makes me sad. (I'm not the best at analysing but please bear with me)

Partly it is the fact that it just doesn't look like something she would wear. Like I get that she looks good. She doesn't look out of place in any way, but her clothes just don't suit her.

obviously she looks regal and beautifully. she looks like a queen, but she doesn't look like gwen.

I understand that what she wore before wasn't exactly what a queen should be wearing, but it feels like in costume design they went a bit too far in the opposite direction. all the colours are too dark, the details don't really fit with her personality. her costumes throughout the show are all relatively similar but once she becomes queen it feels like she changes completely. this probably reflects how her personality changes, which I also don't like. you would think that since she wasn't raised in nobility she would be fair and kind, not willing to kill a servant girl just because she overheard a conversation. it feels like they set it up from the beginning of the season for us to dislike her.

when I think of guinevere I think of costumes like these

these flower corsets are some of my favourite things she wears, and she could have worn something similar when she was queen.

I started thinking, in terms of the show, about why she might have changed her costume design so much and then I thought it might have something to do with respect. swen was a servant turned queen, and probably a lot of the people of camelot wouldn't have liked this much. you know, tradition and shit. so she probably drew inspiration from the other nobility she knew and decided to dress like that. for example, a lot of what she wears is similar to what Morgana wore.

like, obviously thay aren't exactly the same but it feels like there is definitely inspiration here.

this is probably because Morgana was respected (obviously before she because evil).

a lot of the female nobility/royalty clothing we see from camelot and the other kingdoms is Morgana, although we also see this from other visiting people, such as vivian, mithian and elena.

(best picture I could find of her full dress)

obviously elena is wearing a wedding dress here but she is literally marrying Arthur (who gwen married which is why she started wearing these clothes in the first place), and we can see that this colour and style is available to her class.

mithian and vivian are both wearing lighter, more delicate styles, and I get that these aren't anything I could see gwen wearing either but it's definitely closer than what she's actually wears. need I remind you that mithian was supposed to marry Arthur as well?

one thing I could find that is similar is literally gwen's coronation dress. while not exactly the same, it does seem very similar to somathing Morgana wore when she became queen

I feel like the purple and the gold colour scheme seem quite similar, as well as the sleeves and the general embroidered decorations.

I do also feel like this might be the most similar to gwen's original style that she goes in terms of her costumes as queen. it's a lighter colour and the gold decorations feels less heavy than when it is mixed with a darker fabric. this dress is more silky and delicate, rather than one of the first things she wears in season 5

the gold appears to be maybe a darker shade of gold especially when mixed with the maroon colour of the dress. this dress is clearly perfect for a queen, but it just doesn't feel like gwen. (not necessarily connected to Morgana jsut another point)

i guess what she was trying to do was remind the people of camelot that she was to be respected, and she knew how much people had loved Morgana. vivian and elena, on the other hand, were not. they were only in camelot for a short time but in that time they didn't really get people to like them. vivian was rude and elena was a bit 'weird' to them (not sure how else to describe their reactions to her). gwen didn't even meet mithian because she was in exile (another reason she needed people to respect her), so Morgana was the best person to take inspiration from.

the connection to morgana's outfits could also represent the connection between them later in the season and when gwen is under her control

overall, I think they did gwen dirty in the final season and she definitely deserved better.

[all-pacas]

can you imagine what it would be like if cameron and chase had children on the show?

hilarious. liver lesbians two point oh

no okay! ok. SERIOUS ANSWER.

First of all, I don't think they'd be bad parents. It also seems to have been something they discussed off screen and decided they were going to do. In a way, it makes sense for them both, yeah? A lot of their relationship seems to have been… both of them sort of cosplaying "an adult relationship," ignoring the looming issues and hitting those Milestones. That's not to say I think they were like… faking it, but. I think both Cameron and Chase liked being people who were in a successful relationship, proving they could do it and sustain it. And that kind of "ignore the problems" attitude got them through a few years!

I'm gonna do a quick tangent! IDK if you know Elementary (if you don't, it's incredible, please watch it). But a major thread for Joan's character on the show is that she feels like she should pursue romance and date and have Serious Relationships, because that's just what you do, and she's very good at following society's rules. Except she doesn't actually like romance. She enjoys sex. She enjoys friendship and companionship. But she's pretty damn aromantic, and her development essentially is her coming to terms with that fact about herself: that wanting to want relationships isn't the same and it's actually fine. A lot of Joan's development is her embracing the idea that she can be whatever and whoever she wants to be, she can be a consulting detective, instead of fitting into a little box.

I'm not sure I'd go so far as to say Cameron is aromantic, but it's very, very true that she wants love. She defines herself as someone who loves, someone who would love a dying man, someone who can love and fix House, and a lot of her relationship with Chase actually sort of tiptoes around the idea that maybe she's not correct about her self perception. She is almost always presented as "in the wrong" where Chase is concerned, subtly and less so. (She is told to compromise and let him move in. She is told to destroy the sperm. She is told to stop passive-aggressively ghosting him and get engaged.) I'm not sure that Cameron really learned anything about herself in all of this, but I do think that a) Cameron absolutely has a five year plan for herself that involves Marriage and 2.5 Kids and a House, because it's what you do and because she defines herself as a person who wants all that, and b) she probably does not want all that, because time and time again she struggles with the gap between how she wants the world and her life to be, and how it actually is, and never quite seems to be entirely happy with who she is and where she is in life.

So of course she wants kids. And I think she'd be a good mom, to be clear. But I think she'd like being a mom a lot less than she expects. She absolutely imagines some sort of… wearing a long dress and everything is perfect and floaty and soft focus, you know?

Obviously, Chase gets along great with kids. He bonds with them, he's good at talking to them. The S8 sister retcon makes perfect retroactive sense: of course he basically raised his younger sister, because he knows how to talk to kids too well for a spoiled rich kid only child. I actually don't know — he alludes to Cameron that they're planning on having kids, but I can go either way on how much he'd actually, personally want them, you know? Getting along with kids is different from having them, and he has so many issues with his own parents it's easy to imagine he'd be pretty wary of the idea. And while he comes off as more committed than Cameron when they're together, he doesn't have any serious relationships or desires to settle down before or after her. But when they're together, he is totally all in on the relationship, and what do you do when you get married? You have kids, obviously.

So I think they absolutely were planning to have kids, and had the divorce not happened, they definitely would have had one or two, and I think it would have majorly freaked them both out (Cameron, who has a history of picking up and moving cross-country in the face of trauma, can't leave once she has a baby; Chase, who has all the parental issues in the world, probably terrified of letting his kid down like his parents did). And I think they wouldn't be able to talk about it with one another, because that would be admitting doubts. And I think they'd probably both double down on being good parents, because if you admit this isn't what you want you have failed as a person. I think it's quite possible they might have both (to circle back to Joan and Elementary) been happier and lasted longer if they never got engaged, if they could just… be together with no expectations or pressure or kids. I think there's no way either of them would ever consider it. Cameron idealizes marriage too much. Chase is too incapable of admitting his insecurities.

I think I've joked before: AU where they don't divorce still ends in divorce. I think their best case scenario is they split up when the kids are older. They manage to be pretty amicable about it, they actually do remain friends and decent co-parents. They're both deeply, deeply relieved to call it quits.

Also, their kids would be really pretty.

[chasingthedragons]

Oh I agree Anon! The green is all Allicent. I don’t think the rest of the family could care less. Except maybe Aemond and that’s because he’d imitate her. Do we ever see Otto in green? Maybe really dark that looks black? Helena as an adult doesnt coat herself in it, beucase as you point out she doesn’t like her family much. She dresses her own children as she chooses too. Allicent just threw a tantrum all those years back at the heir’s wedding and never let it go. She thinks it makes her look better but it’s just head to toe showing her pettiness. Good example of Daemon, the Targaryens wear their colors because they are proud of their house, as they should be. Because they are dragons and it’s their history. He can def be frilly though. Man had rubies on his armor! His Pentos robes truly made a statement. His walk is perfect, so right. Towers only wear the ruling house colors to use them. Like Aegon being ‘crowned’ Lol I see that you did there! I wouldn’t be surprised if Otto was the one to start dressing his daughter in red, to make her seem less wrong actually. But I don’t think he knew what she would do at the wedding. It was a stupid move, so it wasn’t his idea. True that, Daemyra in black/their colors/together, is everything! Season 2 wardrobe I’m sure will be amazing! Here’s hoping the writing follows it!

of course it is Alicent, since ep 4 when she learns of Rhaenyra's lies, Alicent turns her wardrobe into a sword because she has nothing else to express herself or protest with and that she passes it on to her children because they are HER children, aegon, aemond and helaena of green is a declaration that they are Alicent's children and not Viserys', she makes the decisions because they are hers and hers alone.

Otto on the other hand always wears green (and personally he is the best dressed man in the series), a dark green, that is only noticeable when you look closely, as well as Otto himself, he does his things in the shadows and the rest see from him, what he wants them to see, Otto doesn't let anything slip, he is absolutely neat in his every move (as well as his clothes), I think Daemon is the only one who can see him as he really is. Otto doesn't need to say anything with his clothes, in fact I feel Otto uses his clothes to hide things not to say them, plus he also doesn't need his clothes to express himself, he is a man, therefore he has a voice, plus he is the Hand of the King, there is no more power, no more voice, no more influence to take, he has ALMOST everything.

And one last point about gold and black for Targaryen women is curious, Rhaenyra in gold “the realm's delight”, Rhaenyra in black “Maegor with tits”, Helaena in dark colors belong only to mourning, because it is the image that the greens NEED of her.

What I think is coming for the second season, a lot of mourning, a lot of war and a lot of falsehood, I think our two aspirants to the iron throne will use their wardrobes to show the image they need (but not who they really are) Rhaenyra as an angry and vengeful queen, Aegon with the conqueror's crown on his armor. I think if they could see those images of themselves they couldn't stand it.

[arabella-s-arts]

Watched the new atla show. And now I will share my thoughts because I need to put them somewhere.

I agree with people that it kind of fell flat. More like an impersonation than the actual show. Also, people are right, where is Katara's rage? I'm not going to dive into it, because people already have, but Katara is stubborn and righteous, so where'd they put those qualities?

I wish the show would stop telling us everything. Like, stop telling me that Ozai thought finding the Avatar would be impossible, and sent Zuko on this quest anyway. I know, it's obvious. I don't need to be told the subtext, that's why it's subtext. Subtality could do this show a world of good.

Zhao's death sucked. It was perfect how it was in the original, it showed Zuko's kindness, and Zhao's hubris being his downfall was perfect. Also, this isn't necessarily a complaint, just something I noticed, Zhao feels different in the show. A guy with similar aspirations and ideas, yes, but not the same guy we all hate.

The acting wasn't always the greatest, but I can't tell if it's actually the actor's fault or script (probably script).

I wish Sokka was involved in the Jet plotline, he played a big part in it originally, and it really showed his true character.

Why did Katara and Aang never get any actual training in Northern Water Tribe? That's what they were there to do. Somehow, magically Katara became a master waterbender, because she what? Believed in herself? That's not how learning a skill works. Imagine trying to learn the flute, you're confident, and you figured out on your own how to play a few notes. But you still need someone to teach you the rest of the notes, how to trill, how to read the sheet music, etc. You can't learn everything just from confidence.

The costumes bothered me so much. Sokka and Katara's coats looked so light weight, which is probably more comfortable for the actors, but those coats could not shield you from a light breeze, much less a frozen tundra. Also someone pointed out that their clothes don't actually look worn, and they're right.

What on earth was the scarf scene? Why was it there? What was the point? I am not a Zutara shipper (though I have no hate for the shippers, just dislike for the ship), and now online is just going to be posts about that.

Was Suki just not wearing her warrior make-up because she had to kiss Sokka? Either way, it's still upsetting. The one time she doesn't wear her warrior make-up (which is an honor to wear) is when she's finally in a real fight, and on the day Kyoshi shows up too. Also, no Sokka wearing warrior make-up? I get if they couldn't fit it in, but it's still a bit sad.

I don't understand them getting rid of the fact that Aang ran away, I think it really makes his character more complex as he struggles to take on the responsibilities of the Avatar.

They sorta switched Sokka and Katara's roles in the Omashu tunnels, which I don't get.

Having Zuko fight Ozai in the Agni Kai was a terrible idea.

I'm sorry to say this, because I don't like Zuko being in pain. But Zuko's scar is smaller and a lot more understated than in the animation. I don't know much about burnt tissue, or how it will scar, especially with their technology. But we rarely see heroes with facial scars beyond a line through the eye or something, I don't want it taken away. The scar doesn't even seem to reach his ear. And I'm sad about them confirming his sight was fine. Zuko with some hearing and vision loss is technically just a headcanon. But then why did Zuko only leave his unscarred side up when sleeping around people he didn't trust in the animated version?

I could tell that Aang was airbending during it, so it wasn't really flying. But it's a little too similar, especially considering how significant flying is in Korra.

The thing that bothered me the most was Yue's death. Why was it barely acknowledged?! Yue made a huge sacrifice, but instead we're making up a plotline that causes Aang to have the spotlight instead. And when Sokka was talking to Arnook about Yue, somehow the conversation became focused on Sokka, and his insecurity, instead of someone they both deeply miss (though Sokka and Yue's relationship development could've been better). Sokka is joking around again by the end of the episode, it feels like her death never happened! And why make her a fish! No offense to fishes, but it feels less impactful, and in the original, we could see how Yue was able to keep some of herself alive in the way she presents herself as a spirit, she doesn't do that here.

Some things I liked:

Zuko being upset about Aang stealing his journal.

Sokka and Suki had really good chemistry (though, the show doesn't really give us a reason why Suki likes him, she seems annoyed with him when they first meet).

The effects were good, and I liked a lot of the fight scenes.

Kyoshi.

Oma and Shu being lesbians.

That one lady hitting Zuko for trying to hurt Aang.

Suki being awkward and beating up the guy she likes.

I am impressed with how they were able to overlap some story lines. That must have been difficult to figure out.

The sets.

Azula.

[lemonlightt]

qsmp hcs because i am so normal and not hyperfixated

(consisting of mariana, slimecicle, jaunaflipa, tilin, philza, chayanne, missa but i will add some of other streamers once i catch up on them & if i don't get flamed by the qsmp community. once qsmp expands more i may make another one of these (i will make another one of these in 2 weeks i have no thoughts but qsmphELPME!11!!1!!))

(i also have added some hcs i've seen on tumblr/twitter because they're all i can think about. btw looking for qsmp friends plsplspls i'm so lonely)

qcharlie is a demon and has absolutely no idea of it and progressively gains little demonic traits everytime he makes a deal

meanwhile qmariana is an angel and hold onto your seats guys this one is an absolute shocker! has absolutely no idea of it

everytime something awful happens to charlie (jauna dies, brutally scrambles tilin) his humansona becomes a little more unstable and he gets a little more sloshy - overtime he becomes straight up oobleck and gunks up the smp

qcharlie was raised in an environment that seemed like hell and it's responsible for the fact he doesn't really know how to be dad (his dad treated him like shit) and he's had no examples of healthy romantic relationships

qcharlie and qmariana are absolutely head over heels for eachother they're just losers and find it hard to express it adequately or meaningfully (this does not make them any less dysfunctional and annoying but they are my parental figures your honor)

qcharlie sews and knits and sewed a trans flag into each of their iconic clothing (qmariana's cape thingy, qcharlie's hearts and jauna's bows) he does the same for tilin as soon as he finds out they have the binary of none

qcharlie has been plotting qmariana's murder but qmariana is blind to it and all he cares about is hot steamy gay minecraft sex. they remind me of something but i can't put my finger on exactly what so if you can think of it tell me HJAHA

qcharlie would ADORE radiohead (specifically "nice dream" and "no surprises") (yes i am projecting, yes he is my favourite person and yes he is the only member to me i cant take it anymore)

jauna has golden highlights from her revival (think revivebur but stop thinking about revivebur)

jauna has vitiligo

jaunaflippa is allergic to dandelions but she will not hesitate to give them a blow and makes a little wish (usually about wanting her mom and dad to get along and be happy)

the jauna family get their glasses mixed up so they have to go through trial and error to find which prescription is theres (this takes 30 minutes because qcharlie and qmariana typically fight to the death over it/j)

when tilin died, jauna shared half of their bow with qquackity and keeps it tied neatly around her tail as a sentiment to her best friend but sometimes you'll catch her wearing it on one of her fingers. usually her pinkie (pinkie promise) or index finer

qcharlie and qmariana don't know how to braid in contrast to qwilbur who has spent hours experimenting with talullah to style her hair

qwilbur gives talullah a little walkman(?) thing for talullah to customise and records her cute little songs for her to listen to on the tapes when he's away from home

when qwilbur comes back from his travels, he will never ever fail to comes back with stories to tell, oneofakind gifts for talullah, songs for talullah to sing when she misses him, etc because that is simply how he loves

there is always music coming from talullah and qwilbur's home and it always brings joy to those who pass even if for just a moment

talullah has albinism

tallulah is disabled (canon examples: she has a different model to the rest of the eggs, she's clumsy and a little slow, her wings are underdeveloped) (she's basically just like me fr)

qmissa and qphilza are literally eldritch creatures. they look like the mothman fucker. they are a terrifying duo. here's a perfect example

qmissa is like 9'5 and qphilza is 5'2

qphil tells qmissa about his giant wife who is the god of death and is beautiful and qmissa doesn't believe his platonic husband could pull (spoiler alert he is proven wrong)

chayanne despises qwilbur because qmissa can play guitar better

chayanne dyes his hair pink to match techno and/or wears a little skull. techno is his hero and he is JUST like him frfr

speaking of which, when chayanne first killed a mob, qmissa helped turn it into a skull mask like his own and techno's. chayanne feels more confident wearing it and therefore never takes it off / alternatively qmissa made him a little mask from chayanne's eggshell

chayanne's favourite time of the day is when qphil tells him stories about techno

chayanne is nv like the rest of the eggs but is definitely more vocal than tilin for example (flaps his hands, exclaims excitedly, laughs a lot)

talullah and tilin are twins

tilin is part of the qquackity x qcharlie club upon finding out about the millions of failed attempts of qcharlie trying to flirt with qquackity

i dont think tilin hates qcharlie for what he did but i think they sure make his life a living hell/t

also tilin and jauna are in heaven with techno and they all bully trump. they make a circle around his cowering body and run around in circles while holding hands (this is a joke but not really)

general hcs that apply to all members/eggs:

there's few resources for clothing so the egg parents pass down their clothes to their eggs and the eggs mixnmatch it

the eggs use sign language to communicate as well as signs and doodles or use those little tablets with tts that nv people often use to communicate

extra: techno because he's my favourite character and isn't even in the smp!11!!11!1

techno is a sort of spirit and haunts his family, especially chayanne. he watches over all of the eggs. he hears all the little stories phil tells about him to his eggs. he'll hear chayanne say something he'd say and he goes YOOOOOOOOOOOOO excitedly and goes THATS MY BOY!!! uncle techno takes the eggs in when they get scrambled. when chayanne and talullah died techno gave them their lives back because it broke his heart to see them die just like that.

[fulgurbugs]

Doll review time!

today I received via target the Sunny and Luna Madison two-pack, which i had had my eye on for a while but decided i would wait on a sale for them. and they went on sale recently for 50% off! they were 25 dollars (plus shipping, as my target was unable to let me reserve one for in-store pickup so i had to order them shipped) but in my opinion a very good price for both of them!

i really appreciate that RH always has the color-coordinated stands. saves me from having to get cheap generic stands every two seconds like with mh LMAO. also, Sunny is actually my first Rainbow high doll, since all my other girls are shadow high! i also noticed that shadow high has slightly different stands with spikes on them as compared to the RH ones.

here's the back of their hair.

Sunny's hair is CRUNCHY. i'm talking rock solid. for this elaborate hairstyle she has though, i understand why. Even though i could probbaly at least get the four dangling curls looking nicer with a wash and re-curl, for now at least i'm content to leave her as-is. Luna's hair is significantly less crunchy and more in line with the typical amount of gel for this curl pattern. out of the box it is in two distinct halves, but i separted the curls a bit to give her some more volume.

now, for some individual details.

I'll start with Sunny! In my opinion, she's the clear winner of the pack, and one of the cutest RH designs ever. the reason i was interested in this pack was for her adorable outfit, as well as the fact I like this Luna outfit more than her basic doll.

first up, her face! Sunny's very cute, but what struck me the most with this doll is her hair clips! she has 5, and theyre all different colors. combined with her shooting star earrings, there's a lot to love. I'm very fond of the yellow and rainbow color scheme of this doll.

Her shoes! yep, heel crocs. and leg warmers. it's so ridiculous and over the top, just like everything about this outfit. they're perfect.

I took her jacket off to kook at what she's wearing under it. the little decal on the shirt is surrounded with embroidered safety pins. cute!

the skirt is two layers. the pain white skirt, and the clear plastic with stickers layer over that. i love the pocket details, though they aren't seen much with the shirt and jacket over them. i do like to see that they're there though!

one thing that struck me with this doll is without the jacket, her outfit is actually not very yellow at all! it's mostly white

as for that tiny jacket, it's as pretty and detailed for its size as i'd espect out of rainbow high. tiny ruffle details, pockets, and drawstrings. on the back is a little cartoon sunny with some more rainbows, and a sun and moon that match her hairclips. also, a little cameo of the bear bag.

I love the decora (i think, correct me if im wrong im not super knowledgeable about jfashion cultures) influences on her. everything has a cute and childish vibe, but while altogether its definitely something i could see one of my more fashionable friends wearing around our college campus. a 10/10 sunny (i think she's definitely the designer's favorite)

next up, Luna!

Luna is quite pretty as well, and im a sucker for the series one grayscale dolls. they're such a unique concept! however, I feel like she just lacks that last bit of punch that sunny has. maybe because she doesn't have quite as many acccesories? maybe some hairclips for her too, or a necklace.

here's her face! I love her face in this doll, I'm pretty sure the mold is identical to sunny's (they are twins, after all) but their makeup makes them look really different to me imo. epectually from a distance, Luna looks a bit more mature. in person as well, her eyes are quite clearly a lovely shade of purple, (that isn't too intense as to ruint the grayscale effect) though it seems like it doesn't come off well in the pictures.

not as many details to show off for Luna, but here's a close-up on the shoes. my roommate said she recognized them so im sure theyre in referece to some designer shoes (as RH/SH often does) that i'm not familiar with.

nothing particularlt special from the back. but you can see the little attachement loops on the belt to the skirt a bit better.

he'res her bag, though it's not as fun as sunny's bear bag, it's quite cute, and light enough that it can be held up by Luna with the small handle, or worn on the shoulder instead. it also opens, which i always like to see.

of course, the customary .5 shots

Final thoughts: This is my favorite of the twin 2-packs out of RH/SH so far, I think they're gorgeous and well worth the sale price. Sunny in particular is once again proving to be of the most consistently well-designed characters of the whole line (i love her Fantastic Fashion look as well, and while yellow + rainbows is basically always sunny's thing, I think this is the best execution of it out of all her dolls. I also really prefer this luna to her series 1 doll, where the chrome is more contained and it looks more like an actual outfit you might see in a high school. happy to add both of them to my collection!

Thanks for reading, if you stuck around for this whole long long post lol!

[aoinene-ceo]

I’m curious to know your other femslash ships for Aoi and Nene! Specifically like how would you rank them??

Sorry that this took so long to answer !! I might've been a little too thorough with my response ... (^^;

In all honesty, I find it difficult to discover female characters that are named in tbhk, much less around Nene and Aoi's age, so there aren't that many. Also, I see Sakunene & Aoi and Sakura as more of Aoi & Nene having a crush on an older girl in the class above them !! For convenience sake, I'll be adding some girls I think Nene and Aoi might've had crushes on and why, too !!

This has actually seriously made me realize how little tnhk girls there are ... ( ´_ゝ`)

1) Nene & Shijima Mei (OG Timeline)

To me, Nene is a girl who often finds herself struggling with her femininity. Even when she's learned to cook, sew, and garden in an attempt to become more feminine, it seems like she's still unable to do things properly or "feminine enough." In her opinion, she doesn't have much "feminine charm." Nene bases her value on how much she lives up to this standard of being a pretty, slim legged girl who's quiet and cute. This makes it difficult for her to acknowledge her own appeal, even though she takes most things in stride and is admittedly stubborn.

Shijima Mei, on the other hand, in a way fits the standards Nene is so desperately trying to reach. Except, she seems to be fulfilling them in a ... strange way. Because it's forced on her. She doesn't want to be quiet. In fact, she's ecstatic to talk with Nene in the Picture Perfect Arc. Shijima Mei is pretty and has slender legs, but she's weak and lacks Nene's strength since she's often bound to a hospital bed. Instead of being allowed to express her boundless personality, she's forced to bind it to paper with her art.

I'd imagine Nene admires Shijima Mei simply because she is pretty - as she does with all pretty girls - but also, her ability to keep going and stay optimistic. While she knows that she's going to die, no outcome can change her future, Shijima Mei keeps going. The two of them are both doomed by time. Except, while Nene runs from her fate, Shijima Mei accepts it with open arms. I think that might have partly inspired a fierceness in Nene - if Shijima could keep going, then so could she.

Coming back to the theme of feeling distanced from femininity- if you check all the tbhk official arts, the girls all wear skirts and dresses, except Shijima Mei. In every single art, she's wearing pants. I think the only time we see her wear something skirt/dress like is her hospital gown, and of course, the Shijima created to be a School Mystery.

So, I feel like Shijima's more laidback, carefree attitude would have a positive effect on Nene! She could help her to feel more comfortable in her skin and reassure her of her femininity, reminding her that it looks different on everyone. Nene, on the other hand, could be Shijima's muse and inspire her to make more art! I think it would be really cute if Nene was her favorite subject to draw! Even though Nene didn't appreciate it, I thought it was cute how Shijima accepted her thicker legs and ankles right away and even wanted to draw her almost immediately.

If she ever got healthier, I feel like she would carry Nene around a lot. She actually has quiet the princely character, the one Nene loves so much.

( =＾ω＾)

2) Aoi & Hanazashi

Hanazashi was first introduced in the most recent arc, having been voted as Dorothy due to her bubbly personality and friendly demeanor. I feel she has a similar sort of personality mesh as Shijima and Nene, which would be a good influence on Aoi to loosen up! To be cast as Dorothy, Hanazashi must have a good singing voice! Aoi is also one of the most desired girls in her class, so I feel Hanazashi might get anxious around her and end up ranting a lot due to nerves.

Also, the idea of them rehearsing lines together is super cute! I imagine them gaining a crush on each other during the play - they see the other as they sing a duet, and are amazed by the others voice! And of course, they both look cute in their costumes, too!

(o´▽`o)ﾉ

I'll be honest, I haven't really considered any actual ships besides these ... I looked through the female cast of tbhk so I could find the names of some characters I remember Nene gushing over, and honestly ... there's a very large ratio between the female and male characters. It almost feels kind of like a shounen !! ( ´△｀)

In all honesty, Nene looks up to almost every female character in the cast. She often brings up their physical appearance, and reels in on certain traits that she thinks gives them charm. First of all, Nene is stunned by Yako when she appears, and she easily lets Sumire do whatever she wants. Almost immediately, she wanted to help Sumire right away. In all honesty she gushes over Aoi with every breath, and she marveled at Sakura "looking beautiful like a doll." With Shijima Mei, she was a bit weirded out by her at first, but she immediately thought, "Wow she's pretty," basically.

If there was anyone Aoi looked up to, I think it would be Sakura, Himari, or Minami! Sakura is well liked among her classmates, but she has a mysterious aura and an almost doll like beauty. She's quiet, but anything but delicate. Himari is mature and hangs off Minami's side. Even though she carries herself in a more adult way, she also knows how to have fun and socializes well despite being a but shy. Minami is very extroverted and liked for her boisterious personality and loud self expression! I think Aoi would admire her ability to do that and express herself so freely!

(〃´▽`)

Okay, that's all I got !! Sorry if it wasn't exactly what you wanted, I'm not really good with characters, I think ... ( ﾟεﾟ；)

[hartstune]

Some Stuff about my muse

He doesn't get Ruts! He gets Heats. He absolutely still dislikes them immensely.

The antlers do still function and the velvet will come off them.

most of his height is in his legs. And he can land with ease on very small platforms.

Best sign of his Heat when pursuing someone is he will try to convince the other to chase him down. (The chasing phase of deer)

Sven's posture is always on fucking point. He will keep it perfect even if he feels exhausted!

Polite speech and a respectful demeanor, though sometimes his actions don't match (the way he behaved meeting Lucifer)

He doesn't explicitly despise Lucifer, but he does despise what he represents since the Ruler of Hell doesn't exactly act like much of a ruler. He prefers (this is his verse only) the rumors he hears of the Lucifer of the past. The one who was on top of the world, prideful, in control. Who went to go see what the Exterminators were made of and made them face one of their own just to play with them. The one who the Sinners of back then feared and respected. The one he looks at now seems to pale in comparison of those sorts of feats and looking at him all he can see is the Brokenness and the utter lack of use of his power anymore even though he's at the top of the food chain of Hell's Hierarchy.

Sven wants to mold his world's Charlie so that while she maintains her spirit, her potential power is properly tapped into so that he can not only be free of his Deal, but also know someone is coming to power who he knows will use it properly. Even if not the same as Lucifer has in the past.

Sven prefers...broken things, somewhat. Those who aren't broken in some way never run about in his circles so if they're broken he can meet them. He doesn't, however, in most cases at least, want to break them any further.

Sven's moral code is strict for his killings, even in Hell. He will stalk and hunt a Sinner or Overlord for as long as it takes to make sure they meet his requisites properly and he's not made a mistake before he kills them.

Takes care of the souls he owns; If he gets mad or otherwise starts threatening them in a way that's clearly ticked off, usually it's because he's been actively provoked too much or with the touchiest topic beforehand. He doesn't really tend to threaten his souls that he gets through contract otherwise.

Often takes advantage of the fact that people don't know who he is when first entering hell to get more deals. But usually tends to drift towards getting deals with those who want a better lot in life and are trying to get freedom from an abusive situation.

He still loses to Adam. However! It's because they had a lot less time to prepare. Even with him having helped Charlie and made a deal with her.

His soul isn't owned by any of the top 3 theories (Lilith, Eve, Roo). He's owned by Lucifer in his verse (when there's A Lucifer willing to be the reference of this verse they will be noted down). This is why he's so hostile in front of Charlie to Lucifer.

His deal with Lucifer was made before his 7 year disappearance to give him the power to take out the Overlords one by one in a feat that in his own way, Sven's verse of Lucifer was hoping would end the exterminations as there would be less powerful sinners. It didn't work. So during the 7 year absence he made a 2nd deal with him to look after the hotel even if he didn't believe heaven would want anything to do with it.

Lucifer patches him up following the fight with Adam after letting him pretend he was fine in front of Charlie so as not to worry her.

Since the battle, he's outfitted his boots with angelic steel. And has a set of angelic steel claw gloves that would go over his own hands for a similar purpose. He wears the boots at all times. The claws are only worn during exterminations.

[the-desilittle-bird]

Greens win AU are my favorite ones and honestly the story intrigues me and I liked the fact you made the reader realistic-tired and numb(who can blame her) and Aemond is so cocky about himself that I want to slap him, grovel for reader's forgiveness.

I wouldn't mind a part 2 of Crimson Lady—where she rules beside Aemond, challenging the patriarchal norms and ensures the peace her mother wanted:she proves she's a good ruler much to the Green's dismay and tries to change the law of succession to allow also girls to rule.

Aemond would be supportive because she has never seen her and any other woman less.

A thing I notice is that she never smiled, a perfect parallel to Aegon III from Fire and Blood-I can see Aemond fighting desperately to earn her forgiveness, to see her smile again ignoring Otto's advices and attempts to manipulate him.

He tries to be a good husband, but to no avail, her attitute doesn't change but she seems only happy with her brother so Aemond decided to bring Baela and Rhaena at court annnd to find her baby brother Viserys and bring him to her.

Would be kinda tragic if before the war the reader tries to remain Aemond's friend but he's cold and unforgiving and now the roles have switched.

The reader doesn't smile, she only wears black and never calls him on his first name but your majesty.

Just my thoughts,eh, I like this Au, kinda depressing😪

Author's Note- Thanks for the request. I had been thinking of a way of moving the story forward but was a bit clueless at first, but after your request, I had a clear idea. Hope you like it and it is upto your expectations. Do not fret to leave another request if you wish for. And I decided to make the end a bit less disappointing since I wished for (Y/N) and Aemond to be happy after all they have been through.

Thank you and Enjoy your reading!

The Crimson Queen

Summary- The war had it impacts and the acts of horrors had to be put aside to move on in their lives...

Tag List- @eliseline, @little-moonbeam-666 , @blackhoodlea, @omgsuperstarg, @shopping, @lizlovecraft, @dayane, @bbgmonsay, @michelle-26 , @all-things-fandomstuck, @hc-geralt-23, @chevelledahuman, @morganastrucker, @shrexy , @helloitsshitzulover, @daringboba, @minaxcarter, @b-tchymoon, @stargaryenx, @hukio, @saraelizabeth26, @targaryenmoony, @moon-light1415, @eudximoniakr, @themaze13

GIF Credits to @bobahwrites

Two long moons had passed and the realm as well as the council had suffered several drastic changes. Most of the council members were changed; taxes reduced to the half of what the people had to pay; new trade alliances were made with the Free Cities. And the biggest of them was the allowance of a female heir. All under the reign of Aemond Targaryen and (Y/N) Targaryen.

Wed for almost two moons, the couple were yet to have a real conversation. While Aemond had tried to make amends with the former princess, (Y/N) had only replied with curt replies.

Aemond only found her softening in the presence of the common people and her younger brother Aegon, flashing an occasional smile when he wasn't in her sight.

The people called her the Blessed Queen, much to Aemond's mother and grandfather's dismay. He had always let her take the charge of the realm, letting her give the final verdicts and decide.

Aemond liked how (Y/N) would command the attention of each and every person in the room without even uttering a single word. But the distances in between them only pained him even more.

"I was wondering if we could bring Rhaena and Baela to court," Aemond said, sitting in the chair beside the fireplace. His eye carefully studied his wife's face as she glanced up from her book. "They are safe where they are," she replied strictly.

Aemond hummed, leaning in a bit. "They are, but I was thinking that they should be here, in the court, as they are the Queen's half-sister," Aemond tried to reason. (Y/N) looked up, setting her book aside. "Is it a part of your mother's plan? Or perhaps of your grandfather?" (Y/N) asked, standing up and walking to the balcony.

"Let me assure you, (Y/N). I am part of no plan of theirs," Aemond said, standing up and joining her on the balcony. (Y/N) sighed, her eyes casted down at her hands. "How can I trust you, your grace?" The Crimson Lady asked, her voice monotone with no feelings.

"You can leave the formalities aside, (Y/N)," Aemond said softly, placing a hand on her back. (Y/N) jerked back as his hand touched her back, eyes wide in paranoia. "Our very marriage is a formality, your grace," she said, wrapping her hands around herself.

Aemond swallowed down the lump in his throat, head slowly lowering as his mind processed the silent resignation. "I will be in my chambers, if you need me, my lady." With the words hanging in the silence of the room, Aemond left the queen with a single glance over his shoulder.

The council room was yet again in a fit of chaos as everyone seemed to shout and cut each other. Only the silent ones were Aemond, (Y/N) and their new hand, Cregan Stark.

Aemond watched as (Y/N) shared a glance with Cregan, before slamming her fist on the table, making everyone stop abruptly. "My Queen?" The master of laws asked, his eyes wide. "I would say that the taxes which are leveled on the common people are just fine."

"But what of the treasury, my queen? How are you thinking to pay the extravagant cost of maintaining the court?" Otto hissed, trying to disguise his frustration. "The extravagant cost of the court, along with other things can be afforded with the amount of taxes we are receiving currently, my lord. I recommend you and the council try to remove the corrupt middle men to avoid the shortage of money."

Otto and Alicent, along with the Lannister representative of the West, looked at (Y/N) with disapproving gaze while the others present in the room nodded understandingly. Everyone were aware of the corrupted middle men who seemingly took a part of the taxes for themselves and gave only the remaining to the royalty.

"Master of coins, will the suggestion made by the Queen work?" Aemond asked, his eye trained on the man who calculated something in his notebook before looking up with a smile. "If my calculations are accurate, my king, then almost 16% of the taxes are missing and if we are able to get the complete percent of the common people's taxes, then everything will work perfectly."

This only fueled the growing frown on the Greens' faces, which seemed to make Corlys Velaryon and the Wolf Lord smirk wider, as they looked at their queen with pride.

"Then, we know what you are supposed to do," Aemond said, his words laced with finality. The men nodded before (Y/N) respectfully dismissed them, before following them out; leaving Otto, Alicent and Aemond in the room.

"Poison her like you poisoned Aegon," Alicent broke the silence, making Aemond's jaw drop to the floor. "She is my lady wife, mother," Aemond replied, his gaze moving to the Valyrian ring in his ring finger. "Your and the bastard Queen's marriage is yet to be consummated. Poison her and marry someone of your choice, son. Perhaps, that Alys River."

Aemond's body stiffened as his former lover's name slipped out from his mother's mouth. "She is my wife and I shall do no such thing, mother. You should be aware of it," Aemond said, glaring at his mother and standing up. "Where do you think you are going, grandson? We are not done yet," Otto said with authority as he watched Aemond move towards the exit.

"But this conversation is over for me, Lord Hightower." Aemond slammed the door shut behind him, leaving a stunned Otto and a tear-filled Alicent sitting in the council chamber.

"Sister!" (Y/N) heard someone yell from behind her as she walked in the garden. The Dragon Queen turned to find herself engulfed in a hug. She felt the strong smell of salty sea water and books fill her nostrils. "Rhaena?" She asked in disbelief.

Another pair of hands hugged her from behind, making her head snap back to find Baela, hugging her closely. "Baela? You two are here?" (Y/N) asked, her eyes wide with disbelief, tears brimming in her eyes. "Aemond send for us to be taken to here," Rhaena said with a soft smile.

"Aemond?" (Y/N) let a frown take over her features, but it didn't make home for long as she was reunited with her family. "Yes, but why are you wearing black?" Baela said, as she parted to take her in.

(Y/N) sighed, something she has been doing commonly now. "Sister, you don't seem happy. Is something the matter?" Rhaena said with concern, making (Y/N) let out a breath. "How can I be happy when I am married to the man who killed my brother and father?"

Baela and Rhaena stayed silent as they hugged the warrior-queen again. "He is sorry for what he did, my dear," Rhaena said, caressing (Y/N)'s cheek softly. "Is he? And why should I accept his apology? It is my decision after all," (Y/N) said stubbornly, feeling slightly betrayed as she saw her own sisters take her husband's side.

"Might I remind you that you killed Daeron, his brother," Baela said softly, her hands making their home on her forearms. (Y/N) blinked once, twice, before she nodded. "Then sister? We are aware of everything that happens during the wars, but keep the bad acts aside, now, my dear. Forgive him and yourself," Rhaena said.

(Y/N) only nodded, humming. "I will later this evening. For I wish to spend time with you two," (Y/N) smiled. "Where is little Aegon?" Baela asked, grinning. "Little Aegon is no more little, sister."

(Y/N) felt like the nerves in her entire body were screaming at her to knock at the door to Aemond's chambers but the usually courageous and brave Queen felt too coward to do so.

'Am I doing the right thing, mother?' She thought to herself as she finally knocked on the wooden dragon. She heard shuffling from the other side as the door opened. Surprise painted Aemond's face before melting in a cold look.

"Your grace," he said with a nod. No smile or even a hint of softness. "May we talk for a few moments... Aemond," (Y/N) said nervously, her usual composure fluttering in front of his sharp, penetrative gaze. Aemond only nodded, stepping aside to let her in.

Once the door was closed, (Y/N) took in a deep breath, turning to face a grim Aemond. "If I may ask, your grace, how is it that you have graced me with your presence?" Aemond asked coldly, making tears well up in her deep eyes.

She was aware that she was only getting the taste of the medicine she had forced him to drink, but it only pained her more. She closed her eyes, taking in a deep breath.

"I am here to apologize, for my behavior to you, Aemond. I understand that it is important for us to put aside all which happened in the past," (Y/N) said, her eyes watched as Aemond moved to pour himself wine.

"Aemond, I apolo-" "Are we done, your grace?" Aemond interrupted her, making her jaw agape. "Aemond?" (Y/N) asked in disbelief. "If you are then you are free to leave, your grace. Your apology is well heard but not accepted, for I always tried to make amends while you so graciously pushed me away."

The Crimson Queen gulped, nodding her head in agreement. "I am certainly sorry for my behavior, Aemond," (Y/N) could feel her tears spilling down her face. She walked briskly to Aemond, kneeling down in front of him.

Aemond tried not to look at the queen who knelt in front of him. "Stand, your grace. My feet are not your true place," Aemond said, trying to keep his emotions from slipping. "You have done a lot for me, but I... I have always done nothing to appreciate it but only criticized them. Give me whatever punishment you think worthy of me," (Y/N) said, trying to keep her hiccups at bay.

"I should be punished, my queen. For I have killed your dear ones, and you," Aemond kneeled down in front of her, grasping her elbows in his forcefully. "You have not killed my dear brother. Daeron. Do you remember him, your grace, or have you forgotten him altogether?" Aemond asked, hatred laced in his voice only triggered (Y/N)'s tears.

She let herself feel. Feel all the emotions she could see coming towards her way. Her head placed itself on his chest, tears staining his leather tunic. Sobs filled the entire room, echoing around the silent walls. Aemond's heart clenched in the worst ways as he felt her bury herself more and more into him.

"It's alright," Aemond whispered, his fingers caressing her hair. "I am so tired, Aemond. All of the blood and violence. I don't wish it anymore," (Y/N) whispered, hiccups breaking her sentences in between. "I know, my queen, I know."

"Do you... do you forgive me?" (Y/N) whispered, looking up at him with red and puffy eyes. "Truthfully, not now, (Y/N). But soon, very soon," Aemond said, letting a reassuring smile take over his face.

(Y/N) sniffled, parting away from the embrace to study the slightly wet leather tunic of Aemond. "I apologize for that," (Y/N) nodded to that, making Aemond bite down a small smile. "Do you feel light now, (Y/N)?" Aemond asked, his hand still on her back.

"Unexpectedly, yes," (Y/N) said with a small smile, making Aemond's eye tear up a bit. "What happened?" The Queen of the Seven Kingdoms asked, voice filled with concern. "This is the first time you smiled at me," Aemond said with a chuckle, his eye shining with adoration.

(Y/N) blinked, feeling guilty of her behavior directed towards him. "I hope there are more times of it," she whispered, gently placing her head on his shoulder. "I hope the same, dear," Aemond smiled softly, as they sat there in complete silence, basking in each other's presence.

It was in that moment when the story of the One-Eyed King and the Crimson Queen took a right turn and shifted from a story filled of blood and violence to a story of love and peace. A reign so peaceful that the common people called it the Reign of Gold.

[yourlocalknight]

Being Robin isn't something Damian takes lightly. After all, he's the fifth person to hold the mantle. He's also the Blood Son, the direct descendant of the Bat - he has to be the best, he thinks, to uphold his father's image.

So he listens to the former Robins, observes how they interact. Even if Drake is an imbecile who can't take care of himself, and Brown seems never to take a thing seriously in her life, they're still his predecessors. So, annoying as it might be, he tries his best to learn from them.

There are some things, he discovers, that are integral to being Robin. For one, Robin is supposed to be light hearted, throwing quips and one liners, a dichotomy to Batman's dark gloom. A quick google search reveals that "quips" and "one liners" mean he's supposed to be making jokes. And he's never been good at that, never quite understood other people's humor, but he tries anyways. (After one particularly disastrous attempt, Tim pulls him aside and explains that he doesn't have to make jokes if he's not comfortable with it. Damian tries to explain that it's tradition, but Tim tells him how he never got used to it. Tim tells Damian about how he's autistic, and about how he never quite got humor in the same way neurotypical people did. And, "autism", there's another term to google. Damian thinks he might relate to it - something to bring up with father, he supposes.)

So Damian drops the quips, but he still tries to live up to the other parts of the Robin mantle. He wears bright colors, even though black is much more practical. He starts fighting with batarangs alongside his swords, even if they seem less efficient. He gets better at gymnastics, and even recruits Cass to teach him ballet so he can preform flips like Grayson. All in all, he thinks he's doing a very good job of filling the role.

That is, until he hears the joke. All five Robins have gathered for lunch, a "bonding activity", as Grayson called it. They've all gathered at a restaurant, mostly being civil, when Brown says it. "Ya know," she jokes, "being trans is almost like a prerequisite for being Robin."

And suddenly Damian's breath stops. A prerequisite to Robin - he hadn't known those existed. He hears his siblings joking around him, about how Steph is a trans woman, and Dick is a trans man, and Jason is genderfluid and Tim is nonbinary, and he freezes. He knows what being trans is, of course. The League may be extremists, but they're not monsters. He's just never really considered what it would mean, in terms of himself. He's never really thought about his gender, so he can't possibly be trans. And if he isn't trans, apparently he can't be Robin.

Luckily, Dick notices Damian's distress, and is quick to reassure him that Steph was, in fact, joking. He's a perfect Robin exactly how he is, Dick tells him, trans or not. And that eases Damian's fears, at least for a bit.

But. Well. A door has been opened. Damian has suddenly been made aware that he's never thought to question his gender, to be sure of this thing he'd been told and simply accepted. So he does research. He drags his laptop down to the library, and starts reading, going through article after article for hours.

A few days later, he makes the announcement at dinner. He's never thought about gender because, well, he doesn't have one. He's agender, and uses any pronouns and gendered terms. He'd still like to be called Damian though, please and thank you. And Grayson smiles, and calls them his little sister, and Damian feels warm and fuzzy inside. (And if he hears Brown mutter "told you so" under her breath, well, Damian ignores it, because she's more mature than that, and won't let anyone ruin her big moment.)

[purplekiwis]

Hiiii 💖 I love your writing and I was wondering if you would ever consider writing something about H dating a plus sized model or something along those lines. It makes me sad that everyone here describes their characters as 'much smaller than H' or mention their size difference in a way that makes it look like H is so much bigger because that's not relatable to all of us 😔

hi babygirl 💞 as someone who is chubby as well, I understand the struggle. i know there are some great plus size Y/N stories out there (unfortunantly i don't remember the authors or the titles rn, but if anyone knows any i would love to share) but your ask actually inspired me and i wrote a little something something, which is not that great but i'm gonna post it for you anyway.

here is a very small blurb of CEO Harry having v big crush on his brand-new employee Y/N.

**

Harry is going insane.

And it’s all her fault.

He doesn’t know what it is about her.

In the least asshole-y way of saying it, she doesn't fit with his usual standards. No, not even close. From his younger years up until this point in his life, Harry has consistently gone for conventionally attractive, usually on the skinnier side, type girls in terms of who he wanted to date or fool around with. Mostly because dating such-like women went straight to his ego. There was nothing quite like walking into a room accompanied by yet another Karlie Kloss lookalike and watching as all the other men began to drool like starving beasts over what was his. He got off on it - the greedy eyes, the shameless glances, that were usually followed by indiscreet pats on his back that aimed to let him know he had it good, as if he didn’t know that already.

It made him feel great about himself – successful in a way. He was more than glad to let everyone in on the fact that he had the perfect life. The perfect business, the perfect car, the perfect girlfriends.

So, when did that stop being enough to make him happy?

The answer comes to him easy – Y/N.

She’s one of the company’s most recent hires - technically his hires. But he won’t take credit for it, after all he wasn’t the one who interviewed her or decided she got to have the job. That's what the human resources people are for -it’s why he’s paying them after all. Still, he had taken a brief look at her résumé. It was nothing too impressive… plain average for someone her age, but Margaret, who had conducted her job interview, insisted that she had showed great communication skills and seemed very eager to work for their magazine. Her résumé came with a good professional photo of her pretty face as well, what admittedly caught Harry's attention on the spot… although he later found out that the picture didn’t even do her justice compared to the whole package in person.

Y/N is curvy and plumpish everywhere.

The flesh on her thighs jiggles when she runs around the office in her adorable dresses and skirts, her soft tummy pudges whenever she sits down, and the pants she wears never seem to fit her body quite right. She's always fixing them, he had noticed. Either by pulling them up at the waist or pinching at the leg fabric so that it falls to its right place.

But never once has Harry thought she was lacking in some way for those things, or that she would be better not being exactly the way she is… in fact, he thinks she couldn’t be any more perfect.

He also likes her style a lot.

It's special and distinctive like her, and Harry would be lying if he claimed that he didnt purposefully look up from his computer every time he heard the hurried steps of her chunky loafers going around the corner just so he could catch a glimpse of her through the office’s glass partition.

Harry is a big fan of loafers too, but he believes she owns even more than he does. Cheaper ones too, but he thinks they’re cute none the less - and she likes to combine them with ankle socks sometimes, in a 50's collegial prep retro fashion, what truly doesn't help Harry’s fantasies of taking her over his desk the slightest if he’s honest.

Often times now, he finds himself scrolling through the women's section of the expensive designer boutiques he shops at, trying to make out which pairs she would like or dislike. Somewhere last month he had seen some unique-looking, square-toed black ones that he thought were right up her alley… so much that he struggled a bit to come up with reasons not to get them for her - she could use a new pair… her black ones were already a bit worn on the soles and wrinkled at the edges, as they were the pair she wore the most.

But no matter how much he wanted to, Harry couldn’t possibly justify getting a pair of $300 shoes for one of his employees – let alone one of the newest ones to whom he didn't owe anything aside from basic professional cordiality yet. He wouldn’t think twice about it if she were his girlfriend, or one of his regular fucks – but not even those last ones get to receive gifts from him, unless he is feeling particularly generous, or needy for that real cheesy relationship stuff.

But ever since he found Y/N, he only ever craves to experience cheesy relationship things with her.

It’s driving him mad.

He has to find a way to make her his girlfriend.

And definitely not just because he wants to get her those bloody loafers.

I did a PART 2 🐿️

[yourmidnightlover]

never go back

Summary: spencer notices how your boyfriend takes advantage of you and finally does something about it.

TW: titty sucking, oral (female receiving), cheating, dom!spencer, scratching, slapping (only one), cursing, choking, spencer dirty talk lol, penetrative sex, creampie. *let me know if i missed anything*

WC: 3,724

A/N - i'm using noah as the 'other man' schtick in probably all of my future one shots bc i can't find it within myself to create a new character each and every time. so your douche of a bf will always be noah miller. if you ever get a nice bf i'll be sure to change his name but for now this is what we're working with. got it? got it.

masterlist

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

there are many things that people should go back to. schooling, maybe an old job, an old vacation spot.

your boyfriend was not one of those things.

mostly because your boyfriend sucked.

it was now a fact that spencer reid himself had come to believe quite a while ago and now, well now he had reason.

he had always felt as though you were too good for noah, similar for practically anyone in existence (himself included). he was always a complete ass to you no matter the circumstance.

there was one time the entire team had been back really late from a case that took a toll on all of you. it was emotionally and physically draining. the flight back had been delayed because of weather issues in the state you had been in, meaning you couldn't leave until days after it was solved.

any time you had gone to answer the phone, spencer would be able to see your stance and body language through the glass window. you had been apologizing for something you couldn't even control. you would narrow your brows the way you only did when you were being yelled at. you bit your lip the way you did when you were being made to feel guilty.

he was guilt tripping you for something you couldn't even control.

when you had gotten back it wasn't any better. noah had been giving you the cold shoulder. he was defensive when you asked what was wrong.

and that was only 3 weeks into the relationship.

after being together for 2 months, you had gotten flowers delivered on your desk. you assumed they were from your boyfriend, reasonably so, and went to go thank him. spencer saw the shock in your eyes when you saw your boyfriend huddled in the corner with some new intern. spencer saw the look in your eye change from sadness to anger in the blink of his own.

you took a deep breath, and walked away from the situation, completely missing the way he tucked the intern's hair behind her ear as he leaned in to whisper something to make her giggle. when you got back to your desk you threw the flowers in the garbage can, not even bothering to read the note.

it was pretty indirect, but looking into it he realized it was an issue that should've been addressed. every time the team would go out together, everyone was clearly invited. you would always decline because 'noah wanted to take me out tonight' or 'noah said he needs me, so i'll have to rain check'.

it wasn't because you were a bad person, the opposite actually. it was because noah was taking advantage of your kindness.

because any time you needed him, 'noah's out with the boys' or 'noah had to work late' or, here's a kicker, 'noah had a hard time at work'. as if you don't have a hard time looking at dead bodies while he just has to write up reports.

even when you got injured during a case, shot in the shoulder, noah seemed as though he couldn't have cared less. he wouldn't even go to your apartment to visit you while you were in recovery because 'noah didn't have time to visit'.

spencer could even recall when you went out with the girls one night, spencer being the designated driver, that you had told them how 'noah didn't want you to dress too provocatively so you had to wear something more modest'.

now, spencer doesn't care all to much about what you wear because, frankly, it's none of his business. but now that he heard how noah cared oh-so-much, he decided to wrack his brain for the 'provocative' outfits you've worn. there was not a single one that anyone should make a comment about. you looked stunning no matter what you wore, so you'd grab any man's attention no matter the clothing on your body.

but spencer? he made sure to never be that much of an asshole to you. he made sure to make up for him being an asshole.

he would grab you some morning coffee like you always had before you had a boyfriend. he would make sure to tell you that you looked lovely when you were able to go out with the team. he would visit you when you injured yourself and were lonely, he even stayed back for a few days with you to help you get through it.

hell, he was the one to get you the flowers. you had been having a rough week and spencer thought it might cheer you up. he had gifted you a bouquet of 12, blue chiffon flowers because those were your favorite.

but this was his breaking point. you had come to his apartment, once again in the middle of the night, talking about noah fucking miller cheating on you.

he had done it once before when he was 'out with the boys' you decided to stop by when he said he'd be back, wanting to just be the amazing girlfriend that you are. so when you walk in and hear your boyfriend moaning along with another woman that isn't you, you immediately run back out. you run back out and drive all the way to spencer's.  

and here you are again. spencer wasn't mad at you, it was noah he was mad at. he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

spencer had always liked you, no, he's always loved you. everything about you. how could he not? you're perfect.

but loving you how he does and seeing you being used as a toy to fuck for a certain noah miller not only made his heart ache but also made his blood boil.

spencer wasn't an idiot. he had heard the way the old morgan had referred to women. the thing is, noah is way more of a fuckboy than the old morgan ever was. and that scared spencer to pieces. he knew that you would only be missing out on team outings just to get fucked by a douchebag. he knew that the only reason said douchebag wouldn't visit you was because you couldn't fuck. he knew that the reason said douchebag was cornering that intern was to fuck her, too.

so when you arrived at spencer's place, this time you weren't crying. you were furious. you were angry and upset, as was spencer.

"he did it again, spence," you breathed out as you paced across his living room floor. "i was supposed to meet him in a few hours but i was going to surprise him and i caught him with another tramp! i didn't even confront him. i just- i just left!"

"cheated? noah?" he asked as if he didn't believe it at first, not wanting to seem like as much of a dick as noah.

"yes! cheated. god! i am so ANGRY!" you ran your hand through your hair, a grunt leaving your mouth. "and... and frustrated! and... UGH!" you sighed aggressively.

"and what?" spencer asked as he stood up, slowly making his way to you. "what else?" he said, his hand now brushing that stubborn strand of hair behind your ear.

"i-i'm..." you trailed off, getting lost in his beautiful eyes.

if you were honest with yourself, you'd admit how much you loved spencer. but you thought he'd never love you like that. not since you helped him through jj getting married. he really thought she was it for him, at least that's what you'd come to think he believed. over the years you had grown so much closer and grown such an attraction for each other that the other person knew about. it was ironic, truly.

"say it, y/n," spencer leaned over you, his lips ghosting over yours. "i need to hear you say it."

"god, just kiss me," you said, your hands flying to the back of his hair to push his mouth to yours.

there was no hesitation from spencer to give you everything he had. his hand on the side of your face remained there as his other hand drifted to your waist to pull you closer to his body. your tongues met fervently with covetous, passion, and longing yet with just gentle firmness that felt protecting and as if it was how everything was supposed to be.

"please, spencer," you quietly whispered once you unlatched from one another.

"please what, princess," he asked, his hand running through your hair.

"i just... i need you," she pleaded with him, her hands still tugging gently on his hair. "please," you put your foreheads together, breathing in each others air as you silently begged him to help you in any way that he could.

"i'd do anything for you," he whispered so delicately as if the entire team were standing right beside you. "you know i'd do anything for you."

"then do something," you demanded.

spencer took action by kissing you just as intensely as before, this time his hands went to your ass. he grabbed your thighs to signal for you to jump, once you did you wrapped your legs around his torso as he carried you into his bedroom. he set you down just in front of the bed before you began to undo his shirt, him returning the favor by undoing yours.

"god, i've wanted you for so long," he growled, nipping gently at your earlobe as he laid you back on the bed. "lift your hips," he ordered, you obeyed his every command. you always would. "good girl," he praised as he ran his hands down your now bare waist.

"please," you begged, your hips bucking up to get any source of friction. "spencer..." you trailed off.

"i know, princess. i know," he said before climbing on top of you, connecting your lips with his once again, this time much more eager than before if that were possible.

as you arched your back, he took the opportunity to unclasp the hook on your bra. you shrugged it off your shoulders to allow him to throw the bra somewhere else in his room. he finally took a breath, removing his lips from yours to admire the view in front of him.

"god, you're so beautiful," he growled before placing gentle but eager kisses along the tops of your breasts, massaging the one his mouth wasn't on.

he pressed his knee between your legs, allowing you to buck your hips up to get that release you wanted so bad. you whined as he took your nipple in his mouth, his tongue flicking past it rapidly as he occasionally nibbled on it gently.

"spen-spencer," you ran your hands through his hair, tugging gently on the roots.

"mmm," he sat his head up, trailed kisses up your throat. "god, i love you so much."

"i-i love you," you moaned, pulling his head up to connect your lips together. "i love you so so much."

"i'm so glad to hear that," he huffed a sigh of relief. "because otherwise it'd be awkward when i did this," he began trailing kisses down your body, leading down towards your center. "i'll show you what it's like to be with a man that actually loves and respects you, yea? show you what it feels like to actually be pleased by a man? what it's like to be with a real man?" he teased.

his fingers trailed around your entrance, gathering your arousal that'd been building for what felt like ages. he pressed gentle kisses around your pussy before finally connecting his lips with your clit, a low groan emitting from your body because of the contact.

"yes, please," you shot your head back, relishing in the feeling of the direct skin contact.

"hey," spencer slapped your thigh, your head shot back up to see him between your legs, a truly beautiful sight that you'd never get tired of. "eyes on me," he demanded before going back down on you, not breaking eye contact as he brought out sounds from you that you weren't even sure you could make. "talk to me, princess. let me know how it feels."

"fe-feels so good," you sighed, taking your breasts in your hands and massaging them. "i-i can-can't even think," you stuttered out, too caught up in the pleasure to form a coherent sentence.

you had felt so good as he sucked on your clit, succeeding in bringing you closer to the edge than noah ever has, but when he inserted two fingers into your entrance...

"oh my fuck!" your hands shot down to grab onto his locks, pushing him further into your body, a low groan leaving him.

his fingers didn't stop their work. he curled them at just the right spot, sending you flying over the edge. spencer used his free hand to grab onto your thigh to keep them from closing in completely on his head, still working you through your high. he placed a kiss on your clit once more before he brought his head up to you, connecting your lips passionately.

"could noah ever make you come like that? huh? could he make you feel so good you could barely even think?" he grabbed your chin in his hands, holding it in place to look at him as you shook your head the best you could. "no?"

"mm-mm," you tried to shake your head 'no' once more.

"did you think of him while i was going down on you? were you thinking about how he fucked that little tramp?" he asked harshly, you shook your head 'no' again. "oh, what were you thinking, princess?" he finally released your face so you could speak.

"ab-about how well you know my body. about how, how good you looked between my legs. about how much i love you," you replied quickly, knowing exactly what to say.

"right answer," he connected your lips once more. "what do you want, love?" he asked, peppering soft kisses along your jaw where his hands once held your throat firmly.

"you. i-i want you in-inside me," you swallowed, your hand finding his and pulling it up to your lips to press a kiss to it, then another, then another, then another. "please, doctor?" you used your best puppy dog eyes you knew he couldn't resist.

"god, call me that again," he rasped lowly.

"what... doctor?" you took his hand and started sucking on his fingers, letting them slip in and out slowly and then moving onto the next.

"fuck, yes," he growled as he pressed another kiss to your lips before lining himself up at your center. "are you sure, princess?" he traced your jaw with the fingers you were previously sucking on.

"yes, sir," you nodded. "i'm sure."

you felt him slowly push inside of you slowly to allow you to adjust to his size. you had your suspicions of how big he was, but feeling him inside of you made it all much more real.

"fuck, you're so tight," he moaned into your ear quietly as he slowly pulled back out, going in just as slow.

"sp-spence-"

"wrong," he slapped your face gently, a whimper leaving your lips before he grasped your face to make you look him in the eyes.

"doc-doctor," you corrected yourself.

"good girl," he said, feeling your pussy clench from the praise. "oh you like that?" he felt it again. "maybe you just like hearing me talk, yea?" his pace began picking up slowly. "you like hearing how this pussy makes me feel? how tight... and warm... and wet it is?"

"u--uh huh," you nodded your head the best you could as he began thrusting much more rapid, hitting that special spot inside of you with each movement.

"it seems like you haven't felt this good in a long time huh? haven't had your pussy pounded like this in a while?" he asked as he was catching his breath.

"ne-never, doctor," you confirmed, hands reaching around his back and dragging your nails down, surely leaving scratch marks all down them.

"fuck," he growled. "noah never made you feel this good princess? never made you forget how to speak in sentences? never knew how to get you going like this?"

"n-no, no! never! god, never!" you cried as you pulled his body even closer to you. "i-i'm close, please!"

"you wanna come all over my dick, yea? you want to show me how much your pussy loves it when a real man fucks it?"

that was it to let that spring burst inside of you, parts flying everywhere. you cried his name as he worked you through your orgasm, holding onto his shoulders and hair to keep you grounded.

"cum inside me, please," you begged. "fi-fill me up."

"fuck, whatever you want, princess," he kept pounding into you at a rapid pace. "god, i'm gonna come inside you, and send you back to that scumbag of a boyfriend so he can see that you're mine now. so he can see what happens when his girlfriend is mistreated and fucked by someone who knows what they're doing, yea?"

"yea, yea!" you whined, nails digging back into his skin as he released his load into you, thrusting it gently back inside after.

"god, i love you so much," he moaned into your ear, pressing a kiss to your cheek by your ear.

"i love you," you replied, stroking his hair to help him come down, him still inside of you. he began thrusting inside of you once again.

"don't want any of it to spill out before you get to him," he felt you clench around him one more time. "you're very responsive, princess. i like that about you."

"it-it's just you, spence. it's always been you," you pulled him in for another kiss.

this one was full of passion but not the kind of eagerness. it was full of desire and longing, pent up emotions flowing out into one another fluidly.

"now let me go see my soon-to-be-ex-boyfriend," you huffed as he pulled out of you, wincing from the overstimulation. "i'll see you later?"

"i'll see you later," he pressed a kiss to your forehead before helping you gather your clothes.

driving back to his apartment, you felt rather giddy with yourself. should you have felt bad? absolutely not. he's a manipulative asshole who's used you for sex on numerous occasions, so he deserved the bittersweet irony of what was coming to him.

*get it, coming to him? lol i'm sorry i had to :)*

you knocked on the door softly, greeted by a rather chipper noah who grabbed your face as soon as he saw you, connecting your lips. his kiss was nothing like spencer's. his lips weren't as soft and tentative. they weren't plump and round, they were harsh and rough and unpleasant.

he quickly led you to the bedroom, not to your surprise. he sat down on the bed, you straddled his hips, acting as if it were spencer instead - which was pretty hard to do after knowing what he was like in the sack.

you felt his boner through his pants quickly after you got on top of him. then when he flipped you over and pulled your pants and underwear down, he was met with a surprise.

"someone's excited to see me," he chuckled before licking a thick stripe from your slit to clit, very aggressive to where it almost hurt to have the pressure. "god you taste so good, doll."

he continued at this for a while, inserting his tongue to your hole very once in a while and licking up yours and spencer's arousal with it. you faked your moans and whimpers as his ministrations became more eager, not really getting you anywhere.

after he was finished with your turn - no, he didn't even make you cum - he laid back on the bed as if he were waiting for you to get on top of him again.

"actually," you stood up from the bed, pulling up your clothes with you. "i'm done with this. we're over."

you watched his face as he took in the information just released to him. it changed from surprised and shocked, to confused, to disgusted, to angry and frustrated.

"what the fuck?" he sat up from the bed, a disgruntled look on his face. "you wait until after you cum to tell me this?" he walked over to you, arms flailing in the air.

"yea. i did. and by the way, i didn't cum," you informed him. "that's something you've never really been good at making me do. although i'm not sure how you've been able to convince me to do anything with the way you treat me."

"what do you mean? i'm a good gu-"

"shut up for one second, please," you rolled your eyes, running your hand through your hair. "i know you've cheated on me numerable times. i stayed because i thought that maybe there was a reason, but i've come to realize that i was just... settling with you," you shrugged.

"you've treated me like crap since this 'relationship' started and i'm tired of it. i know someone who not only treats me with respect and kindness, but can also actually make me cum. shocker," you chuckled.

"who is this asshole? what the hell-"

"i wasn't finished, sweetie," you spat out viciously. "he's not an asshole. you're the asshole. you're the one that's getting dumped. so this is goodbye," you turned around to walk out of his room before leaving him with one more thought. "how did his cum taste with mine?" you tilted your head innocently, smiling at his shocked face as he realized what you meant before walking out.

and you were never more glad that you didn't have to go back to him anymore.

taglist:

@muffin-cup​ @greenprisca​ @averyhotchner​ 

[captains-simp]

Carol Danvers ~ Sister's Best Friend

Carol Danvers X Natasha's Sister Reader Smut

Word count: 3,589

Includes: fingering, oral and face sitting

[ masterlist ]

Buy me a coffee ☕

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

You groaned as you heard your sister's bed hitting the wall repeatedly and the occasional loud moan. She really had no shame, or consideration.

It was annoying enough for you that she was interrupting Teenage Bounty Hunters but did she really have to give you this reminder of how single you were? It had been way too long since you got laid.

It was rare to have the opportunity to spend time with your sister. Her work life as an Avenger dug into her personal life big time but despite being a huge work-o-holic, Natasha refused to ever let it ruin the irreplaceable relationship you too had.

So of course you had lept at the chance to go away with her for a week. You knew she was going to bring Wanda; you weren't mad at that though, in fact you were ecstatic because you loved to see your sister in the company of someone she was able to connect with in ways no one else could. They made each other happy, and it made you happy to see. (Although you weren't appreciating hearing the evidence of their sex life.)

But your sister had failed to inform you Carol would also be staying with you. You knew a lot people would give their left arm to be in Carol's company for a week. But you had had a crush on the blonde hero for so long you struggled to be around her without becoming a flustered mess.

Nat knew this. Everyone who knew you knew this. Except Carol. It was hard to cover up the intense blushing and stumbling of words that only occurred when Carol was flirting or just being near you.

Despite Nat's constant teasing about it and pushing you to do something about your crush on her friend, you knew nothing would ever come of it. Carol seemed like a worse work-o-holic than Nat. Definetly not someone who was looking for a relationship. At least, that was what you had assumed.

With a heavy sigh, you turned up the volume on the television but the thudding continued to echo around the house making you cover your ears with your hands and stare at the television.

"Fuck her and her great sex life." You mumbled begrudgingly but froze when you heard a familiar laugh that made your stomach flip.

"You never heard them before?" Carol asked as she leant against the door frame and looked at you with an amused grin.

You had to remind yourself to breathe for a moment as you realized your crush was standing a foot away from you in only an oversized shirt and shorts that you couldn't see. It was only an assumption she even had them on.

You blushed slightly and stared at the tv again - afraid she would notice that your gaze had lingered a little too long on her long, toned legs, afraid she somehow knew you had imagined those legs around your head for a split second.

"Er no." You laughed nervously. What the fuck was wrong with you?! Carol may be an enhanced human, but she was still human. You should be able to function around a human, even if she was illegally hot.

You were caught off guard when Carol slumped down on the sofa next to you; her shirt riding up enough for you to realise she was not, in fact, wearing shorts. You gulped and figited slightly on the sofa.

"I've lost count but my god it doesn't get any less annoying. They're always sneaking off at parties thinking no one can hear, they're lucky I always distract people to another area so they never get busted. Not even a thank you." Carol huffed before glancing at the TV that was showing some sort of action scene now, it was hardly something you were going to pay attention to now.

"She can be inconsiderate." You nodded. "One time I made extra cookies and without even asking she just took the extra ones." You recalled sadly, still mourning the loss of that perfect batch.

You instantly stopped when you realised the two things had zero correlation and you must have appeared just as annoying as your sister to Carol. But when you glanced over at her you saw she was smiling at you in that impossibly cute way made the smile lines around her eyes prominent.

"You must have been livid." She joked. You could only nod.

Your conversation had apparently come to an end and the only thing filling the silence was the TV and the occasional moan. At least the bed had stopped thudding.

You suddenly wondered if Carol felt uncomfortabke being there. Did she want to leave? Should you offer to drive her? You glanced over at her only to see she was already looking at you. Studying you. As though those piercing brown eyes could see every inch of your soul. You felt extremely nervous under her gaze and you hated the familiar feeling of your face heating up. Yet you couldn't help but sneak a glance back at the blonde woman.

She had a mischievous smirk across her lips that made her look more kissable than usual. You gulped as she shifted closer to you on the sofa while you kept your eyes glued to the tv, even when you felt her soft fingers dance lightly on your leg.

You wanted to melt from the simple touch because - unlike her - you were wearing shorts and having your legs crossed made them rise up way too much.

Her warm breath tickled your neck and sent goosebumps throughout your body and left your core throbbing for attention. You hated that it was so easy for her to have that effect on you.

Carol's fingers become a little less light and were now starting to caress your lower thigh. Your breathing increased rapidly along with your need for her but you didn't dare voice those thoughts. Even when her palm came into contact with your skin and pressed down firmly.

"Do I make you nervous, y/n?" She whispered into your ear softly and you couldn't respond. You couldn't get yourself to produce any words as you were so caught up in the movements from her hand.

Carol chuckled slightly and you felt your body become weak from the simple sound. She bit down on your earlobe softly and you had to bite on your lip to stop a moan escaping your mouth.

The gorgeous woman pulled away slightly to look you dead in the eye and your breath caught in your throat. Her eyes seemed darker than usual; as though she was planning a crime in her head and you found yourself thinking you would go along with whatever she asked of you.

Her brown eyes travelled down your face and once they arrived at your lip that was still captured between your teeth she groaned in frustration.

Before you could question what she was doing she pushed you down and pinned you against the arm rest of the sofa. You winced at the pain in your back but found the heat between your legs ignite like a fire and couldn't stop the slight moan.

You widened your eyes in shock at what you'd done but quickly shut them when you felt her soft lips collide with your own. She kissed you desperately, as though she was finally getting something she had wanted for a long time and you didn't hesitate to return the pace and even laced your fingers in her long, silky hair. You tried to push her towards you more but she pulled away to your disappointment.

"Fuck. Finally." She muttered as she positioned herself to straddle your waist then returned to you. Except her lips went past your own and instead attached them to your neck.

You moaned loudly as you felt her come into contact with your sweet spot so quickly. She took this with a new kind of vigour and bit down on the spot making you grip her hair harshly.

The blonde hero then sucked on your skin and you didn't question it for a moment, too caught up in the feeling of her lips against your own and wondering how amazing it would feel if she did that motion somewhere else.

When she pulled away she gazed down at your neck with a proud smirk and traced the mark gently with her finger then kissed you on the lips quickly.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do that." She said with a slight laugh.

"Kiss me?" You asked hopefully and she nodded as she leant back to sit on your waist.

"That and mark you as mine." You couldn't help but get extremely turned on at her words. "I've wanted you for the longest time now, y/n." She admitted with confidence as she played with the hem of your shirt, pulling it up slightly to exposed the lower half of your stomach.

She put both hands on your stomach and ran them across the exposed skin. It felt like you were on fire. The contact was one you had craved from her for a while.

"Me too." You said breathlessly, still not over how her lips had felt against my neck. Carol caught onto this and tore her gaze away from your stomach to look at you.

"Breathless already?" You blushed at her question and turned your head to the side.

She moved to lay against you and kissed your jaw as her hands wondered up your shirt, your mind too clouded to remember you weren't wearing a bra under your bed clothes.

However, this fact was brought to your attention when you felt her soft hands cup your breasts under your top. Your eyes shot open and she moaned slightly against you as she felt your hardened nipples that were begging to be touched by her.

She granted their wish and pinched them lightly between her thumb and finger making you moan out in response. She did all this while kissing down your neck again and leaving more hickeys on either side.

Your back arched slightly from the attention and you pulled her face towards yours to kiss her again. She happily obliged to this and bit down softly on your lip. You moaned slightly and parted your lips to let her tongue roam your mouth. Your tongues danced together before Carol's tongue brushed along your teeth and the roof of your mouth, only pulling away to breath before attaching your lips again.

Her hands wondered back down your stomach and rested at the hem of your shorts. You were caught off guard by her hand wondering further only to pull the elastic of your panties towards her and let them go so they snapped against your skin.

You whimpered a little at the motion making Carol smirk against you. She started to massage your upper thighs firmly, occassionly letting her fingers under your shorts only to retract soon after.

You were starting to get frustrated at the repetitive action, wanting her fingers to go further and stay there.

Carol tapped either side of your hips lightly and it took you a moment to understand what she meant. You lifted your hips slightly and moaned when you felt your cores rub together for a split second. Carol pulled your shorts down to your ankles and flung them across the room, not caring about them now they were separated from you.

She stopped kissing you to look at your now bare legs and rested her hand on your panties, letting her finger dip slightly to feel the outline of your pussy lips and the soaked fabric that covered them.

Carol groaned when she realised how wet you were and looked up at you with a dark glint in her eye that was unmistakably lust.

"Is this all for me?" She whispered as she rubbed you through your panties making you squirm slightly beneath her, hating that there was a barrier between you.

"Yes." You breathed out and tried to push your hips up into her but she placed a hand on either side and firmly pushed you back down.

Her dominance only turned you on more as you lay waiting for her to stop her sweet torture and finally give you what you wanted.

Her fingers travelled along the elastic of your panties and she dipped a finger in to stroke your lower lips. You tried to hold your moans back but this was apparently the opposite of what the blonde wanted.

She grabbed your chin in her free hand so you had to look at her, hovering over you like an angel.

"Don't stop yourself. I want to hear those pretty little moans of yours." You could only whimper out a response as you nodded your head eagerly.

Suddenly, you felt a single finger slip into your pussy and you couldn't help but moan out loudly.

It had been so long since you had been touched there, and the fact that it was by someone as beautiful as Carol made things even hotter.

"Good girl." Carol growled with satisfaction and kissed you hard as she slipped her finger fully into you.

You tangled your fingers into her hair again to hold her close to you as she pulled her finger out only to have it return quickly, not realising that everytime she did her palm would press against your clit making the pleasure increase.

She pulled your panties down with her free hand and you eagerly spread your legs in response to give her better access. As soon as you did she slipped a second finger inside with ease and pumped it into you in unison with the first.

"So fucking wet." She muttered between kisses and you moaned more as you felt a gush of wetness hit her fingers at those words.

She started to speed up as her thrusts became harsher, slamming into you at a pace that mirrored you heartbeat.

You started to rock with hips along with her thrusts, desperate to feel as much of her as you could and almost screamed when you felt her fingers curl up to hit your g-spot. It made my body resonate with fire and you threw your head back in pleasure, not believing you were being fingered by someone so beautiful and skilled.

When she pushed a third finger into you you moaned louder and gripped onto the back of her shirt to try to handle the intense amount of pleasure you were feeling. It was like you needed something to help you hold onto reality while the girl ontop of you was rocking your world.

From that reaction, Carol started to fuck you at a harder, rougher pace. Everytime her fingers hit the edge of your pussy you couldn't help but cry out her name along with a string of moans and profanities.

You didn't want it to end, but the pressure was starting to build up in my core, Carol could tell by your walls squeezing around her fingers.

Your body's desperate attempt to keep her inside of you was futile as she instead took this with a new kind of vigour and fucked you faster.

"Carol...please...don't stop!" You begged not caring how you sounded. You just needed her with you, ontop of you and inside you to help you through the high you were about to experience.

"Cum for me." She encouraged and bit down on the top of your neck. With a caress of her fingers you came undone beneath her, screaming her name as you came harder than you ever had before.

You continued to cling onto her back as she helped you through your orgasm by slowing her pace and watching you experience that extreme amount of pleasure that was caused by her.

You kept your eyes shut as you tried to regain your breathing. You were so focused on that and your now throbbing pussy that you were hardly aware of Carol's weight leaving you.

When your eyes finally fluttered open you saw that she had positioned herself between your legs - just inches away from your pussy - and was looking up at you with her signature mischievous grin as she licked each of her fingers clean.

You knew it was her pre-warning that she wasn't done. You were so exhausted that with any other person you would deny them any more, but the after effects of your orgasm were enough to remind you of how she could make you feel with her fingers. You were dying to know what she could do with her tongue.

Carol smirked when you nodded your head and kissed her inner thighs, working her way closer to your core. She flicked her tongue against your bundle of sensitive nerves causing you to lean back and grip onto her hair again as you watched her.

You could feel her smirk against you as she ran her tongue up through your folds then latched onto your clit, sucking hard as you moaned loudly and wrapped your legs around her head to push her into you as much as possible. You wanted to feel her tongue against every inch of your core.

At that thought, she sunk her tongue into you, making you gasp out at the motion before throwing your head back to moan in unison with her.

Feeling the vibrations from her mouth enhanced the pleasure that you could only express by pulling on her hair harder and squeezing your thighs around her.

Her tongue roamed your pussy like she was trying to memorize every inch of it and you loved it. The muscle moved around desperately, hitting all the right spots that made you shudder.

Every time her tongue pressed on one of those areas she withdrew to bite down on your lips making you groan from such an amazingly sharp pain. You couldn't help but wonder if she had a biting fetish or something - not that you were complaining.

Once her tongue dove into your core again you felt her thumb press firm circles around your clit that made your hips raise off of the sofa.

Carol withdrew her thumb to push your hips down again and held you there as her tongue continued to work wonders inside you.

You could feel yourself start to get close to your second orgasm with Carol as your walls started to clench around Carol's tongue, hoping it would stay inside you but instead pushing it out.

She brought her thumb up to your clit again and pressed down directly on it making you moan louder than before and arch you back in ecstasy as you came on Carol's tongue.

You gripped her hair and squeezed your thighs, desperate to keep the beautiful hero where she was to help you ride out your high.

Carol happily accepted this as you felt her tongue desperately move around inside of you in an attempt to get to every last bit of cum she made you release.

She then licked up your lips one last time before lifting herself up to grin triumphantly at you.

You smiled back and - despite your exhaustion - pulled her up with her legs either side of me and guided her towards your head.

She smirked as she realised what you wanted to do before giving you a questioning look.

"Aren't you tired?" You nodded. "That's why I'm staying laying down." You stated matter-of-factly as you pulled her panties, eager to see and taste her.

The moment you pulled her onto your mouth she gasped out. You didn't hesitate to suck on her clit softly, loving the initial taste of her wetness. You got the response you were hoping for and felt her hold onto your hair as she adjusted her position slightly.

You then licked up her folds and moaned at the sweet taste of her that instantly left you wanting more. You sucked on her folds to further please your taste buds and her as you gripped her butt.

You then bravely dipped your tongue inside her earning a loud moan from the woman ontop of you. She started to grind herself onto your tongue and you smiled proudly as you pushed your tongue the rest of the way in and relished in the taste of Carol.

After a few minutes of altering between sucking on her folds and sinking your tongue into her, Carol started to moan your name like a prayer. It was music to your ears that made your stomach flip and core start to heat up again.

Her movements against your mouth started to become more erratic and you knew with one swipe of your tongue you could make her come undone above you.

Excited at the possibility, you sucked on her clit harshly and heard her scream your name before feeling her warm liquid on your tongue that you eagerly lapped up.

Carol shuddered ontop of you before letting go of your hair and falling down beside you.

"Guess we're the inconsiderate ones for once." Carol laughed, you felt yourself blush as you realized just how loud you had both been. Although you didn't regret a second of it.

"Stay in my room tonight?" You asked with a burst of confidence.

Carol smiled at you and leaned over to kiss you on the lips passionately.

"I would love to." She smirked. You smiled at her answer as you wrapped your arms around her neck before falling into another deep kiss that wouldn't be the last.