#oh lord this has really made my morning

[xxxtwilightaxelxxx]

Everytime I see you update it makes my day ;<;

This isn't Your Fault (Interrogation 2)

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x Reader

Summary: Mindy spun around, slamming her hands down on both arms of the chair, shoving it back slightly, Tara furrowed her brow. “Tell us about Y/N.”

Warnings: None

Word Count: 3.1k+

Main Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6

Tara’s keys jingled as she got them out to unlock the door. There had been no attacks at the apartment but since Quinn tricked them and had infiltrated their home, Sam had changed all the locks and added even more to the door. Tara understood but she really hated carrying twenty different keys just so she could get into her own apartment.

Tara sent you a quick text saying she’d be over later in the day. She hadn’t heard much from you, but you didn’t have class, so she knew you were busy with one of your games. Tara had intended to go straight to you after her class, but Mindy had asked for a girl's day just her, Tara, and Sam, no significant others or annoying brother. It seemed weird but Tara didn’t question it too much, it had been a while since just the girls hung out, though that was mostly Mindy’s fault since she always brought Anika along or always ditched them to go spend time with Anika.

When Tara stepped through the door she furrowed her brow, all the lights were off. “Sam?” She called out.

She reached to flip the light switch but was quickly grabbed. She let out a yelp, but a hand was instantly over her mouth, an arm wrapped around her waist, and two more arms grabbed her hands. Tara wiggled her body, trying to break free as she was shuffled through the apartment until she was tossed into a chair. The second her back hit the chair she was pushing herself back up, but a hand shoved her back down.

“Who the fuck-” Tara was cut off by a hand covering her mouth again, so Tara did the only logical thing.

“Ow!” Mindy yelped, the hand covering Tara’s mouth instantly being pulled away. “She bit me!”

“Mindy?” Tara asked annoyed. “What the hell is going on?”

A singular light clicked on then it was redirected to shine in Tara’s face, she had to cover her eyes, squinting to see silhouettes of Mindy and Sam in front of her. Tara dropped her hand, blinking until her eyes adjusted to the light shoved in her face. She glared at her sister and best friend, any potential fear she had of being attacked was now gone.

Mindy leaned down, putting her face right in front of Tara’s. Tara leaned back to create some distance, but Mindy just leaned forward, moving the lamp even closer to Tara’s face. Tara stared at her best friend unimpressed by the little display, she just raised an eyebrow waiting for their next move. Mindy squinted, standing up straight and crossing her arms. Sam was in a similar position, her face mostly obstructed by shadows, but she stood behind Mindy, arms crossed, her typical bored expression on her face.

“You know why you’re here,” Mindy said as she began to pace back and forth in front of Tara.

“I live here,” Tara said.

Mindy spun around, slamming her hands down on both arms of the chair, shoving it back slightly, Tara furrowed her brow. “Tell us about Y/N.”

Tara sighed, rolling her eyes. “You already met her.”

“That’s not the point! You had been sneaking around for months. Months!” Mindy pushed off the chair, hands on her hips as she looked at Tara expectantly. “Now,” she pointed a finger at Tara, “you will tell us everything.”

“No,” Tara scoffed. “It’s our relationship and if we don’t want to share with you, we won’t.”

“Anika is with Y/N right now.” Tara glared at Mindy, narrowing her eyes, trying to see if Mindy was bluffing. “While she questions Y/N we are questioning you. So, you might as well tell us everything.” Tara rolled her eyes, slumping back in the chair. Mindy smiled victoriously, resting her hands on her hips again as if she was a superhero.

“Now, question one!” she raised her finger, acting like she usually did when she was listing off Ghostface suspects. “Have you guys slept together?” she smiled cheekily. Tara glared at her, noticing Sam had tilted her head to glare at Mindy as well. “Of course, you have,” she waved her own question off. “What was it like? Tell us everything. I want all the details. All of them. All-” she was cut off by a quick slap to the back of the head from Sam.

“Ow!” she rubbed the spot where Sam hit her. “What was that for?” she turned to Sam who just glared at her, giving her a murderous look, Tara knew that look all too well. “Fine!” she held up her hands. “You don’t want to hear about your little sisters sex life, I get it.” She turned back to Tara. “She’ll give me all the details later.” She winked at Tara. Tara kicked her in the shin the same time as Sam smacked her in the back of the head, again. “Ow!” she put one hand to her head and another to her shin, hopping on one leg as she tried to get away from the sisters.

Sam rolled her eyes, stepping up to where Mindy had been standing. “Where did you meet?” she asked.

Tara rolled her eyes, crossing her arms. “You already know that,” she scoffed.

Sam turned the light, shoving it further into Tara’s face. She closed her eyes, raising a hand to block the light. “You guys are ridiculous,” she said, squinting at Sam. She dropped her hand, rolling her eyes again. “We met in our Film History class.”

“Who made the first move?”

“I did.”

“Really?” Mindy asked, coming to stand beside Sam again. “But you have no game. Not that Y/N seems to have any either,” she started talking more to herself. “How did you two end up together?”

Tara glared at her. Mindy just shrugged. “The professor made us do icebreakers,” Tara mumbled. Mindy burst out laughing, having to clutch her stomach with how hard she was laughing, she was almost doubled over. “Anyway!” Tara glared at Mindy, before turning her attention to her sister. “That got us talking and eventually I asked her out.”

“And I’m assuming with your lack of game you suggested, what, a movie, as a first date?” Mindy chuckled to herself. Tara snapped her mouth shut, her cheeks becoming red as she was unable to look Mindy in the eye. “Oh my god.”

“I asked her to go to a new horror movie.”

“Wait,” Mindy held up her hand. Tara sighed, for someone who wanted to know all about her relationship Mindy sure interrupted a lot. “The one that came out over the summer? The one you said you couldn’t see opening night with me?” Tara tapped her fingers together, looking everywhere in the apartment but at Mindy. “Then why did you go with me Saturday night? You talked like you hadn’t seen it! I could have forced Anika to go with me! But no!” Mindy threw her hands in the air, waving them around dramatically. “I was a good friend and said I would wait for you!”

“Mindy!” Sam snapped. Mindy scoffed, crossing her arms as she mumbled to herself. “Continue,” Sam nodded to Tara.

“We didn’t finish the movie,” Tara said. “So, when I saw it with you, I had only seen about half of it.” Mindy scrunched her eyebrows at that. “She doesn’t like scary movies. I didn’t know it before suggesting it.”

“You didn’t ask her opinion on the movie before going?” Sam asked, raising both eyebrows as she judged her sister.

“She agreed to it!” Tara shot to her feet. “Sure, I suggested it!” Tara started pacing back and forth in front of them. “But she said yes!”

“What happened after you botched your first date?” Mindy asked.

“I didn’t botch it!” Tara pointed a finger up at Mindy, stepping into her personal bubble and glared at her.

Mindy raised her hands, taking a step back. Sam inserted herself in between them, resting her hands on Tara’s shoulders and gently eased her back down into the chair. Tara took a few deep breaths, calming herself back down but she kept her arms crossed, continuing to glare at Mindy.

“As soon as I realized she walked out of the movie I went to go check on her,” Tara said, keeping her voice leveled. “And we went for pizza, then she walked me home,” Tara smiled to herself, “And I kissed her.”

Mindy held a hand to her heart, titling her head as she let out an aww. “Wait,” Sam said, holding up a hand. “You brought her back to the apartment?” Sam crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow, as if she hadn’t already met Y/N and had approved of her.

“Seriously?” Mindy asked with a groan.

“She walked me to the front door of the complex,” Tara said with an eyeroll. “She didn’t even enter the building.”

“How many times has she been in the apartment?” Mindy asked with a smirk. “I know the night we all met wasn’t the first time.”

Tara’s eyes went wide as she glared at her supposed best friend. She was going to have to rethink that status, maybe move Chad into the position of best friend. He seemed excited to get to know you and the two of you could bond of videogames. He would also be less likely to embarrass her in front of you, Mindy on the other hand will take every opportunity she has to tell you all about the embarrassing things Tara did in her childhood. Tara nodded to herself; she might have more in common with Mindy, but Chad was seeming like a better best friend option in the moment.

“You’ve snuck her into the apartment!” Sam shouted, bringing Tara back to the present.

“Oh, come on,” Mindy scoffed, lightly slapping Sam’s arm. “Of course, she has!” Sam slowly turned to the side, glaring at Mindy. Mindy nodded and took a few more steps back without another word.

“A few times,” Tara said slowly.

“How many?” Sam demanded.

“I don’t know,” Tara threw her arms in the air, slumping back in the chair. “To many to count.”

“Seriously?” Sam dropped her arms, her mouth hanging open. “Do my rules mean nothing to you?”

Tara saw Mindy bob her head from side to side but smartly kept her mouth shut. “It was easier,” Tara shrugged. “Sure, if we went to her place, we were alone more but it was harder to come up with excuses as to why I was late.”

“How did I never notice? How did I never catch you guys!”

“I have no idea,” Tara barked out a laugh. “There was one time you got home from therapy early and we got a little caught up doing stuff…” Tara cleared her throat trying to cover her blush which was only made worse when she caught Mindy wiggling her eyebrows at her. “And I didn’t hear you until you were walking down the hall and I shoved her in the closet.” Sam’s mouth dropped open while Mindy burst out laughing. “You were in my room talking to me for like ten minutes, I was just waiting for you to fling open the closet doors.”

“Damn, where were you when I was trying to hide my girlfriends?” Mindy asked. “I could have used the help!”

Tara chuckled at that. “I mean you were rather hopeless, I’m sure even with my help you still would have gotten caught.”

Mindy’s mouth dropped open. “Rude.”

“I can’t believe I came that close to meeting Y/N,” Sam mumbled to herself. “Have there been any other times I don’t know about?”

Tara knew it was rhetorical, but she didn’t want to lie to her sister, so she opted to remain quiet and refused to meet her gaze. The truth was there was many times. Tara is surprised how long she was actually able to keep the secret, the amount of times you were sneaking out last minute was crazy. Not to mention the amount of times Anika, Mindy, or Chad almost caught the two of you together on campus, oddly Chad was the one who almost caught you the most. He was the only one that didn’t share classes with either of you and was in a completely separate major. The only good thing was that Chad could be rather oblivious and was usually with some of his football buddies.

There was one time Tara had taken you to a coffee shop right off campus and Chad somehow managed to find his way there. He had brought a girl with him on a little coffee date and then when he saw Tara, he spent twenty minutes talking to her, despite his clearly irritated date. The only reason Chad even left her alone was because his date stormed out of the shop, and he went chasing after her. Tara spent the rest of the day apologizing and trying to make it up to you. You had been at the counter getting the drinks when Chad came in but with your quick thinking you walked to the corner of the shop and pulled out a book. Tara kept glancing at you, watching as you flipped page after page in your book, while Chad talked to her about the most random things as if they hadn’t just seen each other the night before.

“Well…” Tara said, giving her sister a shy smile.

“Oh my god!” Sam said, throwing her hands in the air.

“See, one time,” Tara started to explain, leaning forward in her seat. “Once again, I didn’t hear you come in. She was about to leave and then you started turning the doorknob and I pushed her out the window and onto the fire escape.”

“Smooth,” Mindy deadpanned.

“You even looked out the window,” Tara added, nodding to herself. “I still don’t know where she went,” she looked up thinking back to that day. After Sam left her room she ran to the window, looking up and down the fire escape and didn’t see a sign of you anywhere.

When Tara looked back at her sister Sam was just glaring at her, shaking her head. “What?” Tara asked innocently.

“Let’s get back to the important stuff!” Mindy announced, putting her hands on her hips. Both sisters looked at her with raised eyebrows. “What’s her favorite movie?”

“Really?” Tara and Sam asked at the same time.

Mindy’s mouth dropped open. “Yes!” she looked between them as if she was trying to figure out if they were serious.

“Out of all the questions,” Sam said, gesturing widely with her hands. “Out of all the months of sneaking out. That’s what you want to know?”

“It’s important.”

“How?”

“Well,” Mindy clapped her hands together as if she was about to make a big presentation. “She is dating your sister,” she pointed to Tara. “Who is a horror movie fanatic, like me,” she gestured to herself. Sam rolled her eyes but let Mindy continue. Tara was just watching her friend, curious about where she was going with this. “We’ve now learned Y/N doesn’t like horror,” Mindy placed her hands on her hips again as she suppressed a sigh. “So, we need to see where the rest of her movie tastes lies. I get she’s more of a gamer and into audio.” She shook her hands with a slight eye roll, Tara knew Mindy appreciated a good soundtrack though. There were times Mindy would rant about the shitty audio or the back score of a movie just as many times as she would praise the musical score and how it immersed her in the movie so well. “So, what is her favorite movie?” Mindy crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow.

Tara leaned her head back, closing her eyes as she let out a long sigh. “Jurassic Park,” she finally answered.

Mindy bobbed her head back and forth, her eyes looking at the ceiling as she seemed to take in the answer. Tara relaxed back into the chair, crossing her arms as she waited for her best friend’s approval. “It’s a classic, has a good score, and used practical effects,” Mindy mumbled to herself. “That’s always a good call,” she pointed knowingly at Tara. Tara shrugged, nodding her head in agreement. She wasn’t wrong, practical effects were better the majority of the time and much scarier than anything produced by a computer. “Despite lacking any taste in the best movie genre.” Tara rolled her eyes. “She has acceptable taste in other movies it seems.” Mindy clapped both her hands together, smiling down at Tara. “Congratulations, I approve of your relationship.”

“I didn’t ask,” Tara said, tilting her head.

“Anyway,” Mindy smiled widely, showing all her teeth, it kind of scared Tara, making her lean as far back as she could. “Tell us about the tree incident,” she clapped her hands several times.

Tara scoffed, rolling her eyes. When she looked at her sister, she saw Sam was even looking at her, a small smile tugging at her lips. “No,” Tara said.

“Oh, come on,” Mindy whined, dropping her arms in defeat.

“No.”

“I’ll just ask Y/N.”

“She won’t talk,” Tara scoffed at the idea. She knew you loved teasing her about it, but you wouldn’t tell Mindy, Chad, or Anika if they asked you. The only one she wasn’t confident in learning the truth was Sam. She had a feeling you would probably willingly tell Sam, no bribing or threatening involved.

“But it happened twice!” Mindy’s eyes were wide as if this was the most shocking piece of information she’d ever learned in her life. “Twice!”

“How does one fall out of a tree twice?” Sam asked, silently laughing to herself.

“I’m short!” Tara said, jumping to her feet. “Mistakes were made.” She pushed past Mindy and Sam before spinning around to give them one final glare, “That’s all I’m saying.”

“Where are you going?”

“Y/N’s!” Tara was already grabbing her keys and halfway to the door.

“What about hanging out?” Mindy pouted.

“Nope,” Tara flung open the door.

“Do you need me to pick you up?” Sam asked. “I don’t want you walking home so late.”

“I’ll just spend the night there.”

“In the house where she was attacked?” Sam shouted. Tara could hear Sam running through the apartment after her.

“She replaced the door,” Tara looked back at her sister as if that answered her concerns.

“That solves nothing!”

“Bye!” Tara waved at Sam and Mindy as she walked out of the apartment.

“Tara!” is the last thing she heard Sam shout before the door closed.

Tara chuckled at her sister’s concern. Sam didn’t need to know that the day you got home from the hospital, Tara checked every singly door, locking and relocking them. Tara even checked the alarm system every fifteen minutes to make sure it was still armed, she had it pulled up on her phone, waiting just in case it ever said disarmed like it had during her own attack. Sam didn’t need to know how paranoid she was though; it made her more fun to mess with anyway.

Taglist: @lilbitdepressed27 @fanboy7794 @noooodlessstuff @tatumrileyslover @alexkolax @canvascoloredin @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @youralphawolf72

[redeemingvillains]

riddle's girl - mattheo riddle

summary: mattheo has…feelings about you wearing his quidditch jersey

word count: 2.5k

a/n: just more fluffy sweetness! in my mind this takes place shortly after cold comfort, but they're really unrelated so this can be read as a standalone! ♡

There weren't a lot of things Mattheo liked about being a prefect. He had no interest in being the Slytherin house snitch, in shutting down parties or telling kids they couldn't smoke in the bathroom. So, he didn't do any of it; he threw parties, stole their joints and dared anyone to tell him he couldn't do otherwise.

There weren't many people willing to stand up to the Dark Lord's son, and those that were were pulling the same shit right alongside him. So, he did none of the work but got all of the perks, up to and including having his own room, which, once he started dating you turned out to be just about his favorite thing in the world, and, also, a necessity if the rest of the castle didn't want to be up listening to the two of you at all hours of the night... and morning... and afternoon.

He smirked as he hurried through the halls, eager to get to you, knowing you would be in his room now waiting for him. It was a few hours before his first quidditch match of the year and you were his good luck charm, a necessary part of his pre-match routine.

As he whispered the password to the entrance of his room, he could hear your music playing as you sang along softly to it, probably Taylor Swift, which he'd tell you to turn off but now so closely associated with you that he found himself listening to her even when you weren't around (though he'd deny it to anyone that asked).

He smiled as he walked through the door and took in the sight in front of him: there were little parts of you scattered all over the room, which felt just as much yours as it was his; stacks of your books and a flickering candle took over his bookshelf, a bra and an unkempt pile of clothes on his chair, and you were seated at his desk which you had taken over completely to do your makeup, leaning into a small mirror applying mascara before you caught his eye and turned to face him excitedly.

"Hi!" you said, even more bubbly than usual as you popped up and walked over to him, nearly throwing yourself into his arms as he caught your lips with his own and pulled you into him.

"Mmpf!" you mumbled against his lips in surprise before pulling away. "Wait, wait wait, what do you think?" you said, stepping back to show him your outfit with your arms extended even as he made grabby hands trying to pull you back.

You were in one of his team-issued quidditch jerseys; it engulfed you, coming to the midpoint of your thighs which were bare, the sight an absolute vision that had every part of him twitching to toss you onto the bed.

"Fucking hot" he said with a smirk, his brown eyes wide and twinkling. "Maybe put some pants on before you go, but that sounds like a problem for later us."

"Matty!" you laughed, smacking his arm to scold him before you turned to give him the 360-degree view.

You paused with your back to him, pulling your hair to the side and looking over your shoulder at him... and he swore his heart stopped beating in his chest as he fully registered the sight in front of him: You. Wearing his last name. "Riddle" prominently spelled out on the back of the jersey.

His eyebrows drew together and he brought his hand to his chest, subconsciously resting on his heart, a look of discomfort on his face that immediately had you turning back to him.

"Oh—are you— is this okay?" you asked.

It was tradition for girlfriends to wear their boyfriends' jerseys the first match of the year, but you two had barely just started dating and you had never talked about this; he truthfully didn't seem into this kind of thing and now you were worried you'd taken things too far.

Mattheo still hadn't said anything, still had trouble catching his breath. Conceptually he understood it was just you in his jersey, but you wearing his last name like that had shifted something inside him. YN Riddle, YN Riddle was all he could think in his head, how much he liked the sound of it, and what that meant... he was a fucking goner for you. You had turned his life on its head in the short period of time you two had been dating and he had no intention of scaring you away with the idea of marriage months into a relationship - what the hell was the matter with him??

...And who says you'd even want to marry him or take his name for that matter? No one in their right mind would want to marry into his family or take a name that was spoken like a curse. He thought of the way people spit it out of their mouths, like they hated the very taste of it on their tongue. He couldn't, wouldn't do that to you, realizing finally that what he was looking at in front of him was a mirage at best, a nightmare at worst. The whole situation and the frustration of it all made him furious.

You were looking at him with a puzzled expression on your face and he realized you'd asked him something.

"It's...I don't know..." he mumbled, his head still whirling.

"You don't...know?" About us? you thought.

"I...don't know... it's...." he was trying to come up with the words to say but kept getting angrier and angrier. "Fucking hell" he muttered, rubbing his hands over his face. And now you were certain you'd overdone it and put too much pressure on your relationship.

"It's fine, I'll take it off, I don't have to wear it" you said, turning to look for your discarded clothes as much to hide the tears in your eyes. You pulled your jeans on, pulled the jersey off and covered yourself with your sweater before he could register what was happening. He could sense the swift change in your mood but was still trying so hard to figure out his own feelings he was struggling to keep up.

"If you want to, you can—"

"—It's fine" you replied quickly, your voice wobbling. You were grabbing your things and walking out and Mattheo couldn't fathom what he had done wrong other than dream of a world where you could have his last name.

"Good luck" you said, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips as you left.

What the fuck just happened he thought.

The wind whipped wildly through Mattheo's curls and he bobbed on his broom against the gusts, his eyes never leaving your seat in the stands no matter where he flew. The game whizzed around him and he was doing the bare minimum to contribute, his mind unable to focus on anything but your earlier conversation.

He had tried to catch your eye a few times but you seemed intent on avoiding his gaze, intent on focusing on the people around you and when you turned to talk to the girl behind you and he saw Malfoy's name on your back he nearly lost his grip and slipped off his broom.

Draco was like a brother to you, and you were seated next to his girlfriend Pansy in her own matching jersey, so it wasn't jealousy that reared its ugly head, but something much deeper, something possessive that simmered inside of him. That should be my name he thought as he gripped his broom so hard his knuckles turned white. She's fucking mine.

"Get your damn head in the game will you?" a teammate shouted as they flew by. But now the chances of that happening were even slimmer. You. His girlfriend. Wearing Malfoy's fucking name.

Mattheo seemed...off.

He was missing passes, dropping the quaffle, just generally out of it, which was completely uncharacteristic for one of Slytherin's star players. You didn't know for sure, but you couldn't help but feel like you were a contributing factor, that the conversation you'd had... or didn't really have earlier was to blame. You twiddled the rings on your fingers with anxiety and you began to feel guilt welling up when Mattheo suddenly dropped out of play, beelining towards the coaches and team staff gathered on the grass of the pitch.

"What the hell is he doing now?" Pansy huffed.

Mattheo was off his broom and storming towards a group of third years that helped the team by washing jerseys and mending brooms, and he grabbed one of them by the front of the robes so hard he nearly pulled him off his feet. He was shouting at him, telling him something, and the kid looked like he wanted to cry. He was nodding violently with every sentence Mattheo said before Mattheo turned and pointed to you.

At this point the entire stadium was murmuring and it had nothing to do with the game. People loved to watch Mattheo play on a regular day and now whispers were flying faster than broomsticks at the scene unfolding in front of the entire school.

The kid gave one last violent nod before running at a full sprint up into the stands, back towards the castle and Mattheo was back on his broom to a cacophony of cheers as he flew past you.

Your cheeks were flushed cherry red at the thought that he had stopped in the middle of his game to talk about you... surely that wasn't the case. Was it? The box around you was full of excited whispers and Pansy nudged you conspiratorially with raised eyebrows.

"I have no idea what's going" you hissed back, in an effort to keep things quiet.

Not ten minutes later, the whispers around you turned to murmurs again that got louder and louder until you turned to see the third year from earlier, nearly purple in the face from exertion tripping over himself and the people around him.

"M'looking for YN, YN, Riddle's girl?"

Riddle's girl.

The jersey on your back hadn't fooled a soul, they all pointed to you. He nearly collapsed at your feet, as he held up his hand, Mattheo's jersey fisted in his fingers as he huffed and puffed.

"Ma—Mattheo—Mattheo wants you to wear this. P-Please. Please put it on. Idon'twanthimtokillme, he said he would kill me if you didn't, I-I really think he meant it" he said through gasping breaths as his eyes watered.

Your hand covered your mouth to hide your smile.

"He is not going to kill you" you said reassuringly, as you let out a small laugh, the big bad Mattheo everyone was so afraid of so different than the boy you knew so well.

"But c-can you please put it on. Please. Just to be sure?" he whimpered.

You thought about his words as you ran your finger over the fabric of Mattheo's name. 'Mattheo wants you to wear this.' He had stopped in the middle of his match to make a kid go get it, you weren't going to say no. You pulled it on over your sweater, enjoying the lingering smell of him that now engulfed you as you blushed to yourself.

Mattheo was watching out of the corner of his eye as he dodged a bludger, and when he turned to see you wearing his name, a soft smile on your lips, he felt a calm settle over him, as something warm settled in his chest. Pride he realized after a moment. Pride for his last name, and pride for you in it.

Mattheo had turned the tide of the game scoring three goals and leading Slytherin to a victory. The crowd was buzzing with excitement as you bustled your way towards the locker room to wait for him. You could hear the team chanting and singing in celebration and you were ready to wait a long time for him to finally break away from his friends, but it was only minutes before he pushed through the door.

The crowd that had gathered cheered for him but he didn't respond, his eyes scanning the horde before they landed on you. He shoved a few people out of the way before the rest cleared a path for him and when he was finally in front of you, you couldn't help but glow at him, proud of the way he played and warm and fuzzy inside at all that he'd done for you.

"Babe—!" you started as he smiled at you, and then he grasped your face in his hands and pressed a kiss to your lips inciting a loud round of shouts and cheers around you. He smelled like wet leather from his gloves, grass, dirt and sweat and yet it was intoxicating to you, because it was him. He let go of you only briefly enough to flip your onlookers the middle finger before he guided you quickly away from prying eyes.

"C'mon" he said.

"Oh! Okay—bye, Pansy" you said, waving at her as she winked at you.

Mattheo held you firmly at a fast pace until you were away from the crowd.

"Hey-hey slow down!" you said, pulling him to a stop. "...Thank you for that." Your eyes were wide and warm as they looked up at him. "I know it's silly, and maybe it felt a little too fast or too serious or something" you said, your words flying out as you tried to explain it. "I just—it's—I'm yours and I want people to know that. I'm proud of it."

He cleared his throat and looked around, trying to rearrange his face so as not to show the emotion that was welling up inside of him. Proud. You were proud. Of him, to be his. He looked back at you glowing up at him like a godsdamn angel and wondered what the fuck he ever did to deserve you.

"Told you it looked good on you" is all he could manage at first, and a warm smile lit your face, but you waited patiently, knowing there was more, knowing just how much his brain tended to work in overdrive.

"Look, my name, it's not...good... it's not something to be proud of. People hate it, fuck, I hate it—" he said as he ran his hand through his hair and avoided your gaze, never having come close to saying anything like this out loud before. He swallowed before he felt your hand slip into his and looked down at you. "—But seeing you in it?... I don't know... made me think...maybe it doesn't always have to be that way..."

Now you were trying to rearrange your face, biting your bottom lip as you looked at him, tears brimming your eyes.

He searched your expression desperately, were those good tears, sad tears?

You slid your arms around him and hugged him to you, pressing your body against his and he relaxed into your arms.

"So, yeah, it's yours if you want it" he said, as he nuzzled into you, referring to the jersey, and his last name too...one day.

"Of course I do" you said adamantly.

He pulled back and captured your lips in his, kissing you deeply, passionately, sending your heart aflutter in your chest.

"Now I think you owe me my favorite part of my pre-match routine, Riddle" he whispered against your lips.

"Gladly" you whispered back against his lips.

[daemonsversion]

Hightower Girl | Daemon x Reader

Pairing: Daemon Targaryen x Female (Hightower) Reader

Summary: Sometimes it seems like Daemon has made it his life's mission to annoy you as much as possible. However, when he learns that your father has practically arranged a marriage for you, a long hidden desire comes raging to the surface.

Content etc: profanity, slight masturbation but not really, smut (fingering, loss of virginity) I never know what to put here tbh. Sorry for any mistakes, I only read back through it once or so.

Word count: 6,935 (my first fic on this page was NOT meant to be this long help)

The air held a chill as you turned your gaze up to the sky. You were standing at one of the large windows, looking out over the courtyard as the morning light continued to grow. It was beautiful to look at, yet the chill felt similar to the one that ran through your heart.

With a sigh, you turned away and retreated down the corridor. Last night your father, Otto Hightower, had told you of his plans to marry you off to one of the lords on the small council. You would, quite frankly, rather eat your own head but when you tried to protest all he'd done was get upset with you and tell you it was long overdue that you wed.

So you had been in a downward spiral ever since, trying to decide what - if anything - you could do to get out of it. It was a feeling of powerlessness that had you in its grip as you lamented that there might actually be nothing that you could do about it. Unfortunately, in many ways, you were seen as your father's property. To effectively sell off as he saw fit.

You didn't see him at first. Your eyes were fixed firmly ahead as you walked but they were not really working as they should. You had tunnel vision, moving mainly on autopilot. It wasn't until you'd walked right into Prince Daemon and trodden on his foot that you realised he was anywhere in the vicinity.

"Ah-careful!" He hissed, though not out of real anger, just a bit of surprise and pain because you'd really stomped down on his toes without meaning to. His hands had shot up to your shoulders, pushing you away from him, holding you at arms length.

Your gazes met at the same time and he blinked, abruptly letting go of you and stepping back, his eyes looking you up and down. "Oh." Hightower girl.

You frowned at his reaction but you were not in the mood today to get into an argument with the prince of the city, though some days you almost lived for it. "Forgive me, I was not looking where I-"

"No. I daresay you were not." Daemon smoothly interrupted, causing a flash of irritation to go through you. As much as you tried to conceal it, it did not go unnoticed and his lip curled into an amused smirk.

He leaned in slightly, his eyes now full of mischief as he saw the reaction he'd drawn out of you. Very similar to the ones you often drew from him, merely by the circumstance of your birth. He had not the stomach for Hightower cunts, after all, but he had absolutely found some use for you - getting to make you scowl and want to stomp your pretty little foot was the highlight of his day sometimes.

"You know, if you wanted to be close to me, all you had to do was ask." He purred, a hand coming up to brush a stray lock of hair from your face.

Your own hand immediately came up to slap his away before he could even touch you. Daemon chuckled, straightening up and letting his eyes roam down your form once more, from head to toe. This time it felt like there was something more than just derision there... and a sort of heat started to creep through you. Once his eyes met yours again, he gave you another one of his irritating smirks and then turned on his heel and vanished as quickly as he had appeared.

With a glare, you watched him leave, ignoring the deep ache that started to gnaw at you somewhere within and then you turned away and continued about your business.

Idiot.

Hours later, your frustrated footsteps took you through the keep, away from your father's office, out into the fresh air. The expression on your face was anything but happy, the argument you had just had with Otto fresh in your mind. You had, of course, gone to him intending to have a very levelheaded conversation about all of this but as usual it had descended into madness.

'It is high time you wed and start a family of your own, I have coddled you too long. Grow up. You will marry him.'

The words were spinning in your mind as you exited and stormed out to the Godswood. Not for any reason other than the fact that you knew it would be empty of people and your main desire was to be alone.

You didn't even want to talk it out with your little sister right now because you knew Alicent would only try and defend him. Ever the little appeaser, she would probably say that Otto was only doing what he thought was best. If he wanted to do what was best for you, why not let you marry someone you wanted, when you wanted?

A large pair of hands suddenly gripping you by the waist from behind and pulling you backwards, flush up against a hard body, startled you from your web of thoughts.

"You know the Gods aren't actually listening, don't you?" Daemon's lips grazed your hair and his breath was hot in your ear.

With a squeal, you scrunched in on yourself, squirming out of his grasp, twisting around to shove him away by the chest. "Daemon!" Your tone was scolding.

He only chuckled, leaning against the nearest tree as he looked back at you. "What?" He asked innocently.

You could only frown. Usually you had no problem giving back what you got but you simply don't have the heart for any of it today.

"Oh, what?" Daemon practically sneered, his lip curling as he stared at you. "Cat got your tongue, Hightower girl?" He knew your name but he never bothered to use it, simply out of a desire to further annoy you. You only ever called him by his name and he never called you by yours.

You rolled your eyes and gave him a look but there was not as much fire in it as usual and he found that this disappointed him a little.

"I saw you leaving your father's office." Daemon continued, watching the way your jaw tightened just slightly. He smirked. "Is it your cunt of a father that has upset you, hm?"

Where he expected to see a scowl at his insult against Otto, perhaps even a little fight, you instead huffed a humourless laugh and threw your hands up in a defeated manner. Upset was an understatement, you felt so far beyond just upset.

Daemon frowned, his expression becoming more serious. Well, teasing you was no fun if you did not react in the way he had become accustomed to. It seemed that he might have hit the nail on the head here without even really meaning it - he thought your mournful look was due to his presence, though now that he thought about it you had stormed out here in something of a temper. He had followed you all the way from inside, after all, so he'd seen the swiftness of your steps.

"What has he done now?" He asked then, studying your face with a look you rarely saw on him.

"Nothing." You mumbled, looking down at the ground. The last thing you wanted to do was pour your heart out to Daemon fucking Targaryen.

"It does not look like nothing." Was all the prince said in response.

Just that, not a hint of mockery in his tone, and you lifted your head to frown at him again. He did not look his usual level of cruel amusement. He looked almost like he... actually just wanted to know. That couldn't be right.

However, something about that made you just blurt the words out. Your father had basically sold you off to one of those stupid, stuffy lords on the small council. You had no choice and you felt like you were suffocating!

After you finished venting, Daemon's expression changed again. It was subtle, barely noticeable, but you caught the slight narrowing of his eyes as he stared at you in silence. The smugness seemed to have been wiped completely from his face. You couldn't remember the last time you'd seen him without it.

"What?" You asked, confused now as well as frustrated. Why was he not making fun of you about this? Why was he not taunting you with your looming fate?

Daemon gave the slightest shake of his head, his gaze dropping away from your face slightly. He opened his mouth as if to speak and then he closed it again as if he'd changed his mind. His tongue darted out to wet his lower lip and then he turned his face, looking away over the trees.

Your gaze had dropped to his mouth but you ignored the feeling in the pit of your stomach that the glimpse of his tongue gave you and tried to focus.

"What?" You asked again, a little more firmly this time. Daemon's silence was setting you on edge.

"What do you mean, what?" Daemon practically hissed as he turned his face back towards you.

Your glare returned at his tone. That was more like it. More familiar. "What do you think I mean? What is your problem?"

"You are my problem!" Was his furious reply as he took a step towards you.

"I have never done anything to you!" You exclaimed back. It was always him! Starting an argument or saying something snide in passing. He'd started this whole thing! If you were such a problem, why did he keep seeking you out just to bother you?

"Oh, do not act as though you are blind!" Daemon said, exasperated.

"What are you talking about?" You could not understand how a discussion about your predicament had spun so out of control. Why was he so angry? He was the one who'd asked! You were the one who was being given to some random man! "This is typical Daemon Targaryen. Everything is always about y-"

"You know very well that I have desired you, do not try and deny it!" Daemon snapped.

The silence that followed was absolutely deafening. You stared at him, your expression now one of shock. He stared back, his one of anger and also regret for speaking the words aloud.

"You..." Was all you could get out before you fell silent once more. This did not make sense.

In one of the most surprising moves he had ever pulled on you, Daemon closed the remaining distance in an instant. Taking your face in between his hands, he held you in place for a moment as his dark gaze burned across your features, and then his mouth descended upon yours and you were thrown so far into shock you were not sure you would ever come back from it.

His kiss was hot and passionate and his tongue was in your mouth before you knew what was happening as you... kissed him back, the desire that had been fighting for attention inside you for years now taking control.

His hands moved from your face and took hold of your waist as his mouth continued to explore yours, guiding you backwards towards the tree and pressing you gently up against it. You would have expected him to be rough and quick but he was not. His touch was gentle and soft and your heart was practically flying in your chest.

His body pressed up against yours as he deepened the kiss and you couldn't stop a soft sound of desire leaving you. It spurred Daemon on as a hand moved up from your waist, sliding up over your dress. He groaned into your mouth at the shape of you and you felt like you were on fire.

Only when Daemon's fingers began to fiddle with the lacing at the front of your bodice did you come back to your senses, turning your face to break the kiss and the hands that had moved to grasp his shirt began to push him away. "Stop... stop..."

The kiss stopped but Daemon did not immediately move away, his nose grazing your hair and his breath now hot against your ear as he fought to get his lust under control.

Eventually, he pulled away, his hands leaving you, stepping back to put distance between you both.

You were in an absolute whirlwind. Had that actually just happened? You had kissed Daemon. Daemon had kissed you. He'd been desiring you? For how long? Why? He hated you, did he not? You had so many questions and a moment later you turned your face back so you could see him.

Daemon stood where he was for another few moments, breathing heavily as he stared at you, his expression unreadable. Then he suddenly turned on his heel and started walking off.

"Daemon!" You called, stepping after him in surprise. What? He was just going to leave? This was not finished!

The prince said not another word, nor did he turn around, simply picked up his pace and disappeared.

The night was quiet.

The hour of the wolf had come and you had still not managed to fall asleep. It was not just your marriage predicament playing on your mind this night, it was also the moment with Daemon in the Godswood.

His hands on your waist. His tongue in your mouth.

You would be lying if you tried to convince yourself that you had never imagined it before. Despite the way he often spoke to you, and the remarks or looks you sometimes even gave him back, you had always had that funny feeling around Daemon. Try as you might (because he was a complete bastard, there was no denying it) you just hadn't been able to shake it. That desire.

Desire. He'd said he had desired you. How long had he felt that way? Why had he never said or done anything? To be fair, you knew why, and it probably had everything to do with your father.

Otto Hightower was the snake in Daemon's boot.

You thought about the way he'd looked at you when you'd told him about Otto's plan to marry you off. The speechlessness you had never witnessed before. The way his anger had risen quite quickly, causing him to just blurt out these apparently hidden feelings he'd been harbouring.

Your thoughts began to wander, wondering what would have happened if you had just let him continue what he'd been doing. If you'd let him pull at the laces of your dress and go further. He'd already had you up against the tree, what would it have been like if you'd just... let him take you?

As you imagined it, an ache began to grow steadily down between your thighs. Sighing, you squirmed. It was too late for this! You needed to sleep... yet it would not go away and your thoughts would not quiet.

With a frustrated noise, you shifted and your hand slid beneath the sheets. You couldn't believe that you were about to do this. Touch yourself to the thought of Daemon fucking Targaryen. That rude, arrogant, self-centred...

Your eyes drifted closed as you pulled the hem of your nightdress up and moved your fingers where you wanted - no, needed - them.

The lightest of touches was all you were afforded before you heard the sound of soft knocking at the door. You flinched, eyes flying open again as you sat up on your elbows and stared at the door with a frown.

The hour was so late. Who could that possibly be?

"Who is it?" You eventually called out, in case it was Alicent or maybe a guard informing people of a problem - though you had not heard any activity in the halls.

Instead of receiving a reply, your heart leapt into your throat as the door was simply pushed open upon hearing you were awake and a figure slipped into the room. It took you a moment to realise it was not any old intruder.

"Daemon!" Your heart rate slowed again, though not by much. The fact he was here at all was very improper.

He did not speak but stayed standing by the now closed door, staring at you through the darkness.

His silent, lingering presence in your dark chamber unnerved you slightly. "What are you doing?" You hissed.

Daemon blinked, seeming to snap out of whatever reverie he'd found himself in. He had been staring at you in the bed, not having been prepared for the sight even though he'd known logically you would be in it. "I thought that we should speak." He said, taking a step away from the door.

You sat up even further in the bed. "At this hour? In my chambers? You should not be here."

"I could not sleep." He said simply. Even through the darkness you could see the way his gaze flickered very quickly over your sheet-covered form.

"What has that got to do with me?" You asked even though you were pretty sure you already knew the answer. Had he been thinking about it too? Had it kept him awake as it had kept you?

Daemon's slight smirk returned as he took another step towards the bed and slowly moved to sit down on the edge of it. He wanted to touch you but he refrained. You were right, it was late and inappropriate but he just hadn't been able to rest. He had been pacing a hole in the floor of his own room for the past few hours.

You shifted in the silence that followed, refusing to be the first to break it. Your eyes were glued to him.

"I would say sorry about earlier," his voice came again. "But I would not mean it."

"Why are you here, Daemon?" You asked, ignoring what he'd just said completely.

He smiled a little wryly and his gaze dropped briefly to the low neckline of your nightdress and back up to your face. The moonlight streaming in through your window was the only thing illuminating the room.

"I think you know why I am here." He murmured, lifting a hand as if to reach for you face.

As earlier in the day, you lifted your own hand and lightly smacked his away before he could touch you. "I am not one of your whores!" You snapped, offended.

"Give yourself to me and I will never take another whore again, I swear it." Daemon said simply, his voice low as he leaned in slightly, his eyes never leaving your face.

"What?" You leaned backwards but the pillows didn't let you move too far from him. You could feel that ache again... the closer he got, the more he spoke.

"I mean it, I am being serious." He stated, lifting his hand again to graze the backs of his fingers down your cheek. This time you let him. "You do not wish for your father to marry you off to that stuffy idiot." He whispered, shifting closer. "Well, neither do I." His tone had darkened a little on that, taking on an almost possessive quality that made your heart somersault. "I presume you are a maiden." It tended to be something of a good bargaining chip for arranging unions between houses, after all.

Daemon's touch travelled slowly down your cheek towards your jaw and he eventually curled his long fingers under your chin, his thumb brushing your lower lip. "Give yourself to me," he repeated. "And I will deflower you and make it known... the marriage will be over before it is even begun." He knew this particular lord well and he knew he would not want a wife who had been sullied.

You stared at him in stunned silence for a long moment, trying to ignore the tightening in your belly and the racing of your heart at his proximity and his words. "To what end?" You asked in a helpless little whisper. "I would not have to marry this lord, no, but then what? I will surely be...-" Unwanted by most, seen as ruined perhaps, used. And gods the fury of your father when he found out...

As much as you desired him you did not want to be just one of Daemon's conquests, especially when it would leave you ostracised with no options while he continued to swan around doing whatever he wanted with no consequences. Oh, to be a man, you thought bitterly.

However, you did not get to finish your thought as Daemon interrupted, with a frustrated little frown on his face as if he'd expected you to piece that together on your own. "You would marry me."

A silence followed in which the two of you simply stared at each other. You were stunned. Did he mean that or was he being annoying? Despite the frustration on his face, which was also kind of born from his lust, you got the feeling he wasn't making fun of you. Not this time.

"What?"

"I said you would marry me, Hightower girl, are you deaf?"

A small scowl appeared on your face at his response and you pulled your face from his grasp. No, you were not deaf, but it was a bit of a bloody shocking thing for him to say, wasn't it?

"I have a name you know, you arrogant-!" You cut yourself off before you could say something too terrible but the irritation remained on your face. He had never in all the years you'd known him told you off for not using a title with him, yet he had also never called you by your own name from what you could recall. No doubt he had probably long forgotten it!

Daemon smirked at the sudden rise of fire in you. You had been off for most of the day due to wallowing in your misery and fighting with you had not felt quite as satisfactory as it usually did.

"There she is." He muttered, reaching for your face again. This time he took it with both hands like he had in the Godswood and he stared directly into your eyes, amusement shining on his face as he said your name.

Something about it falling from his lips, the way his mouth moved as he spoke it, coupled with the slowly growing desire in his eyes made you cave. Something flickered in your eyes. Daemon saw it and he immediately took it as a yes and leaned in. You did not object, tilting your head slightly once his mouth came down on yours, kissing him deeply.

A moment later his hands left your face and he was tugging at you to get you to lie back down. You shifted, still reeling slightly, and lay down again in the bed. Your heart was racing. You should not be doing this.

Any further thought was momentarily ceased as Daemon slid over top of you, hovering for a few seconds as his eyes seemed to take in as much as they could of you through the dark. "You are beautiful." He mumbled, so quiet that you thought he'd probably said it accidentally. His mouth immediately descending upon your own to prevent any response strengthened this thought.

You kissed him back right away, not in the state of mind to fully think on it anyway. Your desire was rising and the ache that had kept you awake was growing once more.

You made a small sound into his mouth which made Daemon press his body down against yours a little. The contact just made you feel hotter.

His hand slowly moved up to the neckline of your nightgown and this time you did not try to stop him. You let his fingers tug at the little ties, feeling it loosen with each one he pulled free. Your heart was now hammering so hard in your chest that you wondered how you had not passed out.

This is wrong, your mind was screaming.

But if it was wrong... then why did it feel so right?

Your thoughts ceased again when Daemon's fingers touched the bare skin of your right breast, having gotten the laces at the bust undone while you were kissing. You made a sound into his mouth and then he broke the kiss, pulling back so he could look down at you, wanting to see you properly.

The light in the room was dim but his eyes were keen enough and he groaned at the sight of you, gently pulling the rest of the fabric aside.

Again, Daemon continued to surprise you. Earlier, in the Godswood you remembered expecting his kiss or his movements to be rough and demanding yet it had been soft and gentle. In bed, you had imagined (yes, shamefully, you had imagined) Daemon ripping clothes off impatiently and taking what he wanted, yet he was taking his time undressing you and he was looking at you like you were something special, not just a body he wanted to use.

There was a funny, fluttery feeling in your stomach that you ignored as Daemon's eyes met yours again. He just held your gaze for a few seconds and then his lips were on yours once more. While his tongue explored your mouth, his fingers roamed your breasts - pinching, rubbing, tweaking, caressing - until you were squirming and whining.

You felt the beginnings of one of his trademark smirks and he broke the kiss with a chuckle, pulling back and looking down at you with amused eyes. Before you could complain about his teasing, a hand reached down and began to pull the skirt of your nightdress higher up your legs.

Briefly, you tensed. You tried to hide it but Daemon, who had been watching you very closely, immediately stopped his hand.

"Tell me to stop..." He said quietly. "And I will."

You could have. You could have told him to stop. You could have pushed him off. You could have told him to get out of your room. You could have stopped this whole insane plan right there and then.

But you didn't.

Because you wanted him.

You shook your head and Daemon raised an eyebrow, still not moving. He needed more than that.

You wriggled in frustration. "Please." You muttered, a little embarrassed to seem like you were begging for it, but Daemon did not mock you. His gaze seemed to darken with desire and his fingers clawed at the fabric once more, pulling it all the way up your thighs, wanting access to you. He might not seem it but he was growing impatient. He could feel the proof of it straining against his breeches, practically screaming to be let out.

But he would not be selfish and greedy. Not tonight. Not with you.

His fingers reached your most forbidden area and your mind immediately went blank once more, a gasp catching in your throat as he began to touch you there. His eyes did not leave your face once, wanting to see every little expression of pleasure that passed across it.

Daemon let out a groan when his fingers slid up and down your centre, feeling how wet you already were for him. He could scarcely believe his luck, it took everything not to just hold you down and finally make you his.

It was all he had been thinking about for months, probably even longer. Every whore he'd fucked to try and banish the thought of you from his mind had only succeeded in lodging you deeper into his heart.

He circled your clit a few times, drinking in the way you writhed at the sensation and then he slipped a finger inside of you. Your breath caught in your throat and he felt you tense slightly once more, an involuntary reaction. He'd felt such a reaction many times before. This was not his first deflowering.

"Shh.." He soothed, leaning in to press soft kisses to your cheek and jaw. "Shh... relax."

Daemon began to move his finger slowly, to allow you to become accustomed to the feeling. He felt you relaxing in response to his kisses and his gentle movements and soon it felt nice and you were making those sweet little sounds once more. He swiped his thumb over your clit again and then inserted a second finger, moving them both in and out with a gentle rhythm.

His lips came back to yours and he stayed like this for a little while, tongue exploring your mouth while his fingers worked you, slowly increasing speed. Your body felt hot, you were shaking and moaning... and Daemon was growing more and more turned on.

When he finally drove you to climax, he could take no more and he grunted, pulling his mouth from yours and leaning back to watch you come undone on his fingers. You were almost dizzy from the stars he'd just made you see but your eyes reopened as you felt him move away, whimpering slightly as his fingers left your heat.

You heard the sound of his belt being unbuckled and your heart started to race.

His fingers were starting to becoming impatient as he freed himself of his bothersome clothing and then moved himself back on top of you. When he kissed you this time, you felt something pressing up against you that was certainly not his hand. You shuddered and moaned into his mouth.

Daemon's lips left yours and began to trail down your jaw to your neck. He let them linger there, kissing and licking your skin as his hand moved back down your body, caressing your breasts and familiarising himself with the shape of you. He gently nudged your legs apart with his knee, trying not to rush too much because the last thing he wanted to do was go too fast and ruin the experience for you, but he wanted you to badly by this point it was almost painful.

Your body was on fire and your mind was focused on nothing but him, him, him. If there had been any lingering doubts anywhere inside of you, there wasn't any longer. You wanted this. You craved it. You had craved it for a long time, though you had not fully let yourself think it.

Daemon's hand took hold of his length and he gave himself a lazy stroke as his teeth gently grazed against your neck. The scent of you and the way you were responding to him was driving him absolutely mad. He wanted nothing more than to be inside of you. For you to finally be his.

He guided himself to your cunt and began to slide himself through your wetness, not quite pressing in yet, teasing you over and over as he got you used to the feeling of him.

You whimpered desperately.

Daemon groaned, his breath hot against your neck. "Gods, I want you." He muttered. He was frustrated, almost guilty, that he had not the patience to spend more time on your body. He wanted to taste you, but he told himself next time.

"Please..." You whispered, once more practically begging him. The feeling of his cock gliding through your slick was too much, you needed more, you needed to feel him. "Please." You said again, in a whine that caused Daemon to groan again in response.

He pulled his head back and looked down at you. "Say you want me."

"I want you." The words fell from your lips easily. They were true. They had always been true.

"I want you too." He whispered, leaning back in to kiss you one more time before he pulled away again and then shifted slightly. He kept eye contact with you the whole time as he began to press himself into you, your arousal making it so easy for him to slide himself into your heat.

Gods, the slick between your thighs made you feel like such a wanton little thing. He almost growled.

Another few seconds and he was buried inside you. He gave a deep moan as he pressed his face back into your neck, dizzy on the feeling. He wasn't so far gone that he didn't feel the tension rise in you once more though and he leaned back up, his lips pressing gentle kisses to your face and jaw again.

"Shh..." He soothed once more as he heard your breath catch in your throat when he shifted his body. He had gotten you ready for him and been as gentle as he could but he knew you were hiding the fact it still hurt a little.

"Look at me." He murmured, pressing a kiss to your lips and then looking down at your face. "Good girl." He purred when your eyes met his, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. The praise awoke something inside you and you made a soft sound. He smirked slightly, having felt the fluttering of your walls around him. "Mhm. You liked that." Daemon teased.

If your face was not scarlet before, it was when he said that. Still, all panic had left your body as you were now just focused on the pleasure of the moment. When Daemon tested the waters by shifting his hips a little bit, a soft moan left you and he could tell it was feeling better for you. So he moved again. Then again. And again.

Soon, he had built up a steady pace, thrusting in and out of you. The room filled with lewd sounds and you could do nothing but revel in it. The burn had faded and now each thrust of his hips gave you a jolt of pleasure. Daemon was good at this. You supposed it was to be expected with all the experience it sounded like he had.

He wanted to last. He really did. But he had wanted you for so long and he felt like he was about to burst with each little sound that left you, each little wriggle you made underneath him, each time your nails gently bit into his arms as you clung to him.

His movements began to get quicker and you whined as he rubbed repeatedly against a certain spot inside of you. He grunted hard as he realised the reaction you were having. Daemon, however, was slightly unhappy with something. You were not reaching release quick enough and he was worried, with the way things were going, that he would before you did. He would be damned if he left you unsatisfied.

He moved his hand back down between your bodies and found your clit again, circling the little bud with skillful fingers. It was not long after that you were trembling and then shattering as he pushed you over the edge once more.

The sounds that your release pulled from you were so hot that he pretty much fell apart there and then. He groaned helplessly and buried his face back into your neck, breathing heavily as he moved his hips a few more times, his movements becoming a little less controlled as he felt himself nearing completion. With a harsh moan, Daemon then spilled himself inside of you and collapsed on top of you.

For a few minutes, the room was filled with nothing but heavy breathing as the two of you lay there like that, tangled together, all hot and sticky. You felt utterly boneless. Your eyes were shut and your breathing was ragged, your heart racing, your body limp beneath his weight.

It was perfect.

He was perfect.

"I will speak... to my brother to... tomorrow." Daemon muttered against your neck, slowly coming back to himself. Even if Otto held any reservations after what happened, Viserys would no doubt smooth them over somehow and convince him that you marrying Daemon was the best (and only) option to come out of this.

You could only hum in response, delighting in the kisses he began once more pressing against your skin. You felt warm and content and when he eventually moved and rolled off you, you couldn't hold in a sound of disappointment. Immediately you felt embarrassed but Daemon's arms coming around you and pulling you to him distracted you from it.

Opening your eyes, you blinked at him. "You can't stay."

"We are to be married." He said simply, a small smirk on his face. "I have taken you. Everyone will find out anyway." He reminded you. That was the plan after all.

"Yes, but..." Your cheeks felt hot but hopefully he would think you were just still coming down from the high because you partly were. The idea of being caught with a man (Daemon Targaryen of all people) in your bed was too scandalous. A step outside your comfort zone. "...you..."

"I will go, do not worry." Daemon purred in your ear, flicking his tongue out lightly over the outer edge, smirking as he felt you shiver. "I only want to hold you until you fall asleep. Does that not sound nice? Hm?" He did not say that he simply could not stomach the thought of just rolling out of bed and leaving you lying here all by yourself after your very first time. He did not want to leave you alone in the dark.

You sighed, acting bothered, but it did sound very nice and you were already so comfortable. He was very warm... so you were quick to relent. "Fine. But as soon as I am asleep..." Your voice held as much warning as you could muster.

Daemon chuckled softly, nodding as he adjusted slightly, getting more comfortable in the bed and pulling you up tighter against his body. "Yes, my lady." He said it as if you had given a command and he liked the way his teasing tone made you giggle.

It did not take you long to fall asleep. Indeed, you were so exhausted, you were out in a few minutes.

Unfortunately, Daemon was also so exhausted that he fell asleep mere moments after you did.

When Alicent entered your chambers the next morning, she got quite a shock... and quite an eyeful, as Daemon had kicked himself out of the covers at some point during the night, giving the poor girl an unfortunate glimpse of his backside that did not leave her memory for the rest of her days.

Her shriek was what caused your father to come running into the room. You were not sure you had ever seen Otto quite so angry in your whole life. After the initial shock wore off, you thought he might actually be so angry he would lay hands upon the prince but he managed to somehow hold himself back.

The look of disappointment was clear as your father turned his gaze on you but Daemon, now standing, shifted in front of you the second he saw it and blocked Otto's view.

If anyone would take Otto Hightower's anger, it would be him.

"What's say you and I go and have a talk with my brother, hm?" Daemon muttered, his eyes narrowed.

Otto stared at him with barely concealed rage. The last thing he wanted was his child linked to a man like Daemon Targaryen. He had been a thorn in his side for years. And now he had... defiled one of his daughters! He tried to look at you again but Daemon cleared his throat.

Otto glared at the prince. "You may wish to put on some clothes first." Was all he said before turning and sweeping from the room, dragging Alicent out by her elbow, letting the door slam behind them.

You would have burst into tears if you were not so shocked. You watched Daemon turn to pull his clothes back on. When he looked up at you, he was smirking.

"It's not funny!" You exclaimed.

"Oh, come on." He teased, sitting down on the bed and leaning closer. "It is a little bit funny."

You turned your head so he couldn't kiss you, frowning. You had never felt so embarrassed and ashamed in your whole life. Though it would have come out anyway when Daemon told his brother and you confirmed but to have been walked in on by your father and sister was another thing entirely!

Daemon sighed, lifting a hand to your chin and gently turning your face back towards him. "I'm sorry."

"You said you would leave!"

Daemon blinked, feeling a little bit guilty because he could see this actually had been difficult for you. "I did not do it on purpose, I fell asleep!"

You scoffed. "Right."

"Hey. I mean it." He said and he looked and sounded so serious that you did believe him.

There was a brief silence and then Daemon smirked again.

"What?" You asked, half snapping at him.

Your tone did nothing to rid him of his smile, the smirk turning into a bit of a grin. "When I return," he said as he leaned in again. "You and I will be betrothed."

You could not stop your face from breaking into a smile of your own. "You seem very confident in that fact." After what he'd just walked in on, you were pretty sure your father would be vehemently against this, perhaps simply out of spite and anger.

"Don't you know by now, Hightower girl?" Daemon's eyes glinted with mischief as he closed the distance and kissed your lips once more. When you parted, he was smirking again. "I always get what I want."

[endless-ineffabilities]

But Daddy, I Love Him (chapter one)

Daemon Targaryen x f!reader

synopsis : the reader is a daughter of the Lord of House Arwen - ever so dutiful and mild-mannered. Slated to be the lady wife of some highborn Lord, someone who is noble and decent. Not the volatile Rogue Prince. Not Daemon Targaryen.

in this chapter : The Rogue Prince and the reader meet. Their fates entwine. A fool is made out of a Lady.

themes/warnings : Daemon being Daemon is a warning in itself, Daemon has a superiority complex, highborn!reader, House Arwen is my own creation (name inspired by lotr!)

series list : chapter one - chapter two - chapter three

word count : 2k ▪︎ masterlist

a/n : the title and the series concept inspired by the TS song ofc <3

Dutiful daughter, all my plans were laid. Tendrils tucked into a woven braid...

Your chambers. The Godswood. The library.

Every day is the same. The mornings start with your ladies in waiting helping you prepare for the day. Running your bath, carefully pressing your frocks, lacing you up in your bodice. Making sure each lock of hair is in place, the right amount of rouge dabbed against the apples of your cheeks.

You were once a perfect little girl, now a perfect little lady.

Soon a perfect little lady wife.

This is your story, already woven, already told time and time again. The same story for all ladies of your standing.

All you have to do is to be good. And so you are.

Thank the gods for the stories you read, enabling you jump into different lives. Adventures and romances you know you will never have, not truly. But you are happy to play the fool with every page turned.

The library has become your safe haven, your home within your home. Nestled high in the sprawling castle of House Arwen. Nothing can disturb you here. No one.

Or so you thought.

The very first words you hear Daemon Targaryen say to you come across as rather rude. You will find in time that he does not mean to be rude. Not all the time, that is. This is just how he is.

"I have always found that story rather dull. Amusing how you seem to be so engrossed in it, my lady."

"Excuse me, but I will you have you know - " you raise your head, taking in the visitor. Or intruder.

"Prince Daemon," you rise from your seat, offering a well-practiced curtsy. An instinctive move of obeisance for a lady like you.

He barely acknowledges your gesture, his face flat and impassive. "That book. I was forced to read it in my youth. Our Maester all but shoved it down my throat."

You immediately do not take to his approach. That book is one of the most famous tales from Old Valyria. He should know, being of Valyrian blood and all.

"I believe there is much to like about this book, my Prince."

"Such as?"

"Well, it depicts a warrior knight of Old - "

"Some warrior knight," Daemon scoffs, not even letting you finish your statement. "He gave up his powers for the love of a wench he knew for just a fortnight. He had every chance at glory but he squandered all of it away. For what?"

"For... for love?" comes your response, though you know he did not really want one.

For someone who claims to dislike this story so much, he sure knows it well.

He mindlessly taps his fingers on a nearby shelf, eyes lazily reading the titles. Drifting through the room with the unmistakeable disdain of someone who is used to having so much, the world practically by his feet, but is disinterested with it all.

You think that you could fall dead right then and Daemon wouldn't care. Wouldn't even bat an eyelash. He rolls his eyes at your mention of love, and it does not help your impression of him.

"There are only two things worthy of love in my eyes, my lady, and that is power and blood."

"Blood? Well, my prince, family is one of the most important - "

"Blood is not the same for me as it is for you. My blood carries a legacy of fire and magic, being of Old Valyria. You would not possibly understand how I hold my blood in high regard."

Oh may the gods strike him down now.

Your hands clench into fists, pressing against your skirts, but you don't have it in you to notice the unladylike gesture. All you can think of is letting him have a piece of your mind. "A family can have a flock of sheep or a horde of dragons, my prince, and it makes no difference to me. Your family is your family, your blood is your blood. But whether you choose to love them does not solely depend on blood."

It is as if he sees for you for the first time then, the moment you show that you have your own voice, and that you will not simply cater to his whims.

He turns eager to press you further, make you break, make you cave in. "What of you, my lady? What is it that you find worthy of love? Family, I presume, from your poorly formed argument? What about a lord husband?"

"I do love my family," you nod. "And when I do wed, I am sure I will love my lord husband just as dearly."

He walks closer, but does not stop in front of you as is the polite thing to do in conversation. He circles you, and you feel exposed by the way he openly takes you in. "Oh, but how will you know? You do not have a choice, do you? How can that be love?"

You do not answer right away, for the prince has just voiced one of your biggest fears. What if you do not find love in your lord husband? What sort of life would that entail? One which you have been preparing for since you entered womanhood, one you always thought you would be willing to accept. It is your duty, after all.

So you say just that. "It is my duty, and if I am able to fulfil my duty, then I am certain that will bring me happiness."

Daemon scoffs, his lips forming a self-righteous sneer. "In the story, do you then think that the warrior knight would have been better off fulfilling his duty and abandoning his love?"

"It is not the same."

"It is exactly the same."

"No," you emphasize, "because he had a choice. I do not."

He had stopped right in front of you, a bit too close for comfort, almost as if he needs to lean in to scrutinize you fully. "Love is the death of duty, my lady. Take my word for it, you would be far better off playing your role. If you truly wish to honour your family, you would not fall in love at all."

He's so close that you can feel his breath fanning your face. If you didn't know any better, you would believe that simply being so near Daemon Targaryen is the reason why your body feels like it is on fire. He gives off heat like a furnace, like a dragon.

Maybe he is a dragon. Is that not what they all say about Targaryens?

You open your mouth to take a breath, lest your throat also burns from the dry warmth, your stomach curling adding to your nerves. It prompts you to ask, "What about you, my prince? Has duty stolen every chance you have at love?"

His eyes draw downward to your lips, and his faint blonde lashes catch the light. The Rogue Prince does look otherwordly. Everything you have heard about him has been inadequate.

His violet eyes meet yours once more. "I would not bother with such frivolity. As I said, my lady, power and blood are all there is."

"Perhaps so. Perhaps true love only exists in the stories that I read."

"You are learning," he nods, and offers what might be his first genuine smile to you.

"Nevertheless," you step away from him, and carry your book back to the shelf. "I do not fault the warrior knight for choosing love over glory. I would choose as he had done, if that were a possibility."

His response is glib, but not meant to offend. "Then you are a fool, my lady."

"I wish I were a fool, my prince," you smile, lowering your gaze. "Aren't all fools happy?"

"You wish nothing more than to be mere mummer who has found happiness in love."

"If only," you say. It's surprising how easy you're finding it to engage in conversation with him. It feels like you have known him for many moons and not only for this moment.

The Rogue Prince, of all people. Which begs the question, what is he doing in the library of House Arwen?

"Pardon me, my prince, but why have you graced us with your presence this morning?"

He turns serious, almost bored, that he has to acknowledge the reason for his visit. "My brother, the King, has sent me to relay an official decree to your Lord father. He is to accept the position of Master of Coin for the small council."

"He... he is?" you swallow. This would mean that you have to go with him and live in the Red Keep. This also signals that your betrothal to Tyland Lannister is afoot. Your father had recently paid a visit to Casterly Rock to arrange for your marriage to Tyland or Jason Lannister. If it is to be with Jason, you would be sent to Casterly Rock. If Tyland, your father would take the offer to be part of the small council. You are to accompany him and begin courtship with the Master of Ships.

At least it will be Tyland and not Jason.

"Yes, I am supposed to meet your Maester here in the library to deliver the royal decree," Daemon replies, the task so insignificant to him, unaware that he has just delivered news that determines the course of your life.

Not that it makes any difference. Your father has always wanted to join houses with either the Lannisters or the Baratheons. Forge a true Westerosi alliance. It seems that he will finally get his wish.

Your thinking gets the better of you, and you stand unmoving, the weight of duty suddenly feeling too much to bear.

Daemon's face scrunches in what can misconstrued be concern. But surely he isn't. He must only be uncomfortable at your sudden silence and blank expression.

"Is something the matter? Are you not pleased that your father is graced with an opportunity such as this?"

"Of course. I am sure that he would be delighted."

"You do not seem to be."

No, you aren't. While you have met Tyland Lannister before, there was never any attraction there. From your side and his. Yours would be a marriage of convenience, for the benefit of both Houses.

How I wish I was the warrior knight.

"It matters not how I feel, my prince."

There is movement by the doors, and the old Maester rushes in all out of breath.

"My prince!" He calls out immediately. "My deepest apologies that I have kept you waiting."

Daemon pays him no mind. His attention is solely on you. Conscious that the Maester observes the exchange, you clear your throat. "I shall take my leave, my prince. The Maester will see to you now."

You tilt your head and curtsy in farewell. As you pass by Daemon, your hand brushes against his, the pads of his knuckes rough against your own. The first and likely the only time your skin will come into contact with his, you strangely think with regret. Still, it catches you off guard and you feel a sensation like needles pricking all the way up your arm.

"My lady," he greets, and under his breath, making sure the Maester cannot hear, he adds, "my lady fool."

Another smile is shared between the two of you.

Love is the death of duty, he had said. Sooner rather than late, you will find out just how it rings true.

Supper with your Lord father is but another constant. You have always been grateful for it, especially since the passing of your late mother.

He is the only family you have around, with your elder sister already married off to some Lord in the Riverlands. She has already done what was expected of her, securing an alliance for House Arwen and bearing children for her Lord Husband.

The mantle has been passed on to you. It was never something to ponder over, as it is not something in your control.

Do your duty. Play your role. Pray that you never fall in love at all, Daemon said.

But might I fall in love with Tyland? Should that not be what I aim for?

"I heard that you encountered Prince Daemon this morning," your father says. "I trust that you acted accordingly as befits his station."

"Of course, father."

"Though it matters little to me how that rogue prince fares." The derision in his tone cannot be contained. Your father has never held Prince Daemon in any regard, viewing him as a waste of his titles.

"The Prince was gracious enough to exchange pleasantries with me."

Pleasantries. Never mind how he mocked your story, your family, and by extension, you.

"Careful, daughter. Prince Daemon is never loathe to chase after the nearest skirt that catches his fancy. I feel for his newly betrothed, the Lady Laena Velaryon. Far too good for him, that one."

"Daemon is betrothed?" you ask, unable to hide your surprise. Last you heard, his wife Rhea Royce passed in a tragic hunting accident. You also heard the whispers that she perished by her husband's hand.

After finally meeting him, you would not count it as an impossibility. But some part of you does not want to believe that he could be capable of something so vile.

"Yes, Prince Daemon has been betrothed once more. No doubt the most fruitful union for their Houses," your father confirms. With all this talk of betrothals, you already know what is coming, but your stomach sinks all the same when he adds, "as will be the union of House Arwen and House Lannister, dear daughter. You should consider yourself highly fortunate. I have toiled considerably to bring about your betrothal to Tyland Lannister."

"Of course, father." The words are empty, worn through, forever echoing in your ears.

Of course. I will do my duty. What is love after all, but a passing fancy, mere fiction entombed in between pages?

The red scales of the infamous Blood Wyrm glisten under the bright sunlight.

Caraxes lets off an ear-splitting screech as Daemon guides him across the skies.

"Daor tolmiot sir." The Valyrian smoothly comes from Daemon like a song. Not far now.

Not far from the seat of House Arwen in the Westerlands. His destination, for some unknown reason.

Just the seventh day after he was sent to deliver the decree, he finds himself returning once more. It is the day that your Lord father, yourself, and the rest of your envoy are set to ride for King's Landing.

And Daemon has decided to extend an offer to you, the Lady Arwen, one that might infinitely expedite your travels.

There were a myriad of justifications floating around in his head. He found out that you are betrothed to Tyland Lannister and his actions on this day would no doubt ruffle the preening lion's mane.

Anything to needlessly anger a Lannister, Daemon would enjoy.

He would revel in the pleasure of bespoiling such a prim and strait-laced Lady such as yourself. It would be like sport to him.

It must also not be forgotten that this would rouse the ire of your Lord father, who has never held any love for Daemon and vice versa.

All these reasons make complete sense to Daemon. All but one which he does not allow himself to entertain.

That he wishes to see you.

Who are you, if not just another proper wench with your honour and your faith for the Seven Gods up your arse? Daemon has much more discerning tastes, from dragonrider to tavern whore, but never one with your disposition.

You are nothing to Daemon. No one.

But that does not mean he will refrain from indulging in the pleasure of causing chaos.

The clouds part as Caraxes dips lower, revealing the outline of your meagre castle.

"Sepār ilagon konīr." Daemon refers to the inner courtyard where a line of carriages await, precious possessions being lugged onto them by footsoldiers.

Caraxes dives down with precision, his wings casting a shadow over the courtyard as he suddenly descends, leaving everyone startled.

Daemon's boots heavily crunch against the gravel as he jumps down, and he scans the wary crowd for his prize.

Soldiers rising to attention, bowing their heads to their prince. Ladies-in-waiting openly ogling him as he draws nearer. The Maester and his apprentices approaching him with rushed greetings springing from their mouths.

And then, there you are.

Standing just behind the small crowd, whispering hurriedly to your companion. You shush when you spy Daemon heading right for you.

"My prince." You perform the usual curtsy. Daemon thinks the movement does not suit you. He much preferred it when you were getting riled up at his remarks back at your library.

"My lady," he greets. "Lovely weather we are having, is it not?"

You appear confused, your eyes narrowing and nose scrunching for but a brief moment, and Daemon relishes in prompting such an unguarded expression. But it reverts back into your polished smile.

"Yes, it... it is, my prince. Forgive me, but I was not aware that we were expecting you."

No. Of course not. "Let me rephrase that. It is lovely weather for dragonriding, and I am inclined to think that you would enjoy the journey to the Red Keep."

"I am afraid I do not follow."

Daemon gets right to the point and his next words ring true, leaving no room for doubt as to his intentions. "My lady, I would like for you to ride with me."

Your posture becomes slack, and you gape at him like he has grown a second head.

"That would be inappropriate, my prince."

"No," he sneers. "It would be inappropriate if I take you for myself right there on the dragonsaddle, my lady, but I merely wish to offer a ride."

Your companion blushes profusely at his words. Apparently the image affects her so much all she can do is stare at her feet.

You, on the other hand, are unyielding. Your eyes blazing right through his own violet. A nagging voice in Daemon's mind insists that this is what he came for. Nothing else.

You finally say, "It is unbecoming of me to even entertain that notion, Prince Daemon. My Lord father and my betrothed would surely not approve."

Daemon takes a step closer, and the two of you stand nearly toe to toe. "But do you not wish it? Do you not wish to fly on dragonback? Much like the heroes in your stories I would wager."

"Those are just stories. It would be foolish of me."

Daemon laughs dryly, "My lady, is that not what you are? A lady fool who dreams of adventure and love?"

You frown when he has you cornered, your thoughts whirring in that foolish head of yours. Daemon feels the need to run his thumb over your pursed lips.

Perhaps I am the foolish one.

The Maester interrupts, breaking the impasse, nervously looking between the two of you.

"My prince," he says, "if you came to speak to the Lord Arwen, he is still in his chambers. He should be on his way down shortly."

You glance at the Maester then back to Daemon, awaiting his response, but he has none to offer.

You tilt your head disapprovingly at his outright discourtesy until he extends his hand to you. "My lady," he says with sincerity, "you shall be made a good lady wife soon enough, but today I invite you to be foolish with your prince."

It is the Maester who speaks, "My prince, the Lady Arwen must not - "

But you rudely interrupt, a newfound fire blazing in your eyes. "Is it as exhilarating as the stories say?"

"Enough to please a fool," Daemon replies.

With a smile, you fit your hand right into his, consequences be damned.

I may not write for him as often, but Daemon just might be my favourite to characterize and the most fun to weave stories with 🖤

This is a fixed miniseries, with a more or less fixed story, so it will only a three-parter.

[thesilmarillionblog]

ANGEL IN DISGUISE

Summary: When Dean gives you a Halloween party explanation, he also gives you a gift: a pair of wings for his angel.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Angel! Reader

Warnings: +18! (light smut), fluff, naive reader, wing kink!!!, soft, teasing, reader has a praise kink, sub!dean

Word Count: 2917

A/N: English is not my first language.

🎃── Halloween Special One-Shot ──🎃

“Can you help me with these pumpkins, sweetie?” While he was having a hard time making a beautiful decoration for Halloween Week, Dean asked with a chuckle. He had been asking for your help, but all you were doing was smiling as you enjoyed the view while watching him. Every time he scooped a pumpkin to give it a form, his muscles stretched out, giving his hands and arms an appealing look. 

You finally got off of the chair and said, “What are the pumpkins for?” as you looked deeply into the eyes of the pumpkin and the lights within. If you touched them, you could make them look brighter. 

“It is only aesthetic for the week of Halloween. They'll be put in the garden.” Dean kept cutting, attempting to make it clear that they are meant to seem frightening.

You laughed out loud despite being confused by the whole idea, “They don't look scary to me.” You couldn't help but feel happy since you would be spending your first Halloween together as a couple with Dean. You lit the newly cut pumpkin that Dean had just made. Your heart seemed to burst with happiness as he glanced at you with pride and affection.

“Nothing is scary for you, isn't it?” Dean immediately gave you a very gentle slap on your ass, making you jump. He shot you a look as you gave him a more powerful spanking through his pants on the ass. He appeared to be in pain.

“Someday, I should give your perty ass a more serious spanking. You really need to learn a lesson. I am telling you.”

You teased him, “I can make your pain go away,” as you hurried to hug him from behind in between laughs. You tuck your head behind his massive arms and wrap your arms around his abdomen. It was difficult for him to do his job while you were being naughty. You enjoyed touching as well as teasing him. It was uncomfortable to watch Dean occupied with anything other than you since he had been battling with pumpkins since the morning. You should have been doing different things. 

“How?” Dean arched an eyebrow and said, “Will you kiss my ass?”

“Do you want me to?” You asked confused since you couldn't tell most of the time if he was being serious or joking. It was not necessary to give him a real kiss to soothe his pain, but if that was his desire, you might fulfill it with joy. He had a lovely ass. 

“Oh God,” he shook his head and moaned. When you took Dean seriously, he couldn't stop chuckling. 

“Don't bring the Lord when we are talking such things, Dean,” you said. He had an excellent connection with words, but he needed to have made more use of them by praying. “Do you really want me to kiss your ass though?” 

Grinning, you met his gaze and held it there until he turned to face you. While he was quietly laughing and confusing you even more, Dean jumped when you held his ass behind his back, signaling that you were about to unzip him and plant a kiss there. 

“Hold on,” he laughed. “Of course, it wasn't what I meant. Plus, you don't have very tough hands.”

“Okay, you lost the chance. You were on the verge of crying there; don't lie to me.” With a murmur of disappointment, you released his ass. “Also, you should not challenge an angel. I could give you one slap and turn your tight ass scarlet.” Of course, you wouldn't do it. 

He grinned at you and released his abdomen, allowing you to see whether you could help him with his pumpkins. “I wouldn't dare,” he said. “Have some mercy, woman.”

“See?” you asked, holding out a little pumpkin that you had lit up and presenting it to Dean. “I'm not always useless. I can apply whatever color you like to make it shine.”

You asked, “What do people do on Halloween?” with curiosity. You had never heard of such a concept before, so you were excitedly awaiting his response, thinking that it would be something amusing for couples like you and Dean. 

“We dress up and pretend like we're somebody else or something.” Dean stared at the pumpkin you were holding proudly and attempted to explain, “You're free to wear anything you like, even if it's weird.” It seemed like you were showing off your power as you continued to brighten them. 

“Why?” 

“It's only a concept, sweetie, and Halloween parties are actually really enjoyable. Trust me. Wearing masks that hide your face, making it impossible for others to recognize you, so that—” Dean abruptly stopped himself before trying to spark jealousy in you, remembering the last Hallowen part he had joined. 

“Hmm,” you said, setting the pumpkin on the table while acting understanding. “Give me an example.”

After taking a breath and placing his knife on the table, Dean turned to face you and wrapped his arms over your belly. Right away, your arms found his neck and pressed your body against his. He had neglected you due to the pointless special week and pumpkins. 

He put his fingers on your ass through your pajamas and said, “For example,” which made you thrilled. “Do you recall the film we saw the week before? Shrek. Fans of the film and its characters can dress up like them. In addition, a large number of people cosplay as angels and devils. They're wearing wings on their backs.”

Crossing your arms across your chest, you scowled. “Real angels don't wear fake wings.” Then you continued to embrace Dean while attempting to justify your explanation, saying things like, “Our wings are magnificent, and none of those people have seen a real angel in their lives.” 

You added, “Demon's wings are simply ugly, but it depends on their rank, of course,” with a chuckle, before Dean said a thing. “Some of their wings are big and very thick. Actually incredibly excellent.” It wasn't appropriate of you to vocally confess that you admired some of their wings, but you spoke before you thought it through. 

Dean grimaced as you gave him an ashamed look. “Thick and big, huh?” he said, obviously annoyed by your oversharing. 

“To be honest, they are hideous. I loathe them. Not my taste,” you hugged him closer and stressed each word in an attempt to shift the topic. You did your best to lift his mood again by playing with the buttons on his shirt. “Since you're my boyfriend, I just like you the way you are. I take it that my wings are enough for the two of us.”

He gave you a quick kiss on the nose and said, “That's my girl,” which stunned you. It was dirty things you needed, not Halloween stuff. You sighed with anticipation as your mind was flooded with filthy images, and you continued to fiddle with the buttons of Dean's shirt, hoping he wouldn't be decorating pumpkins any longer. 

Dean remarked, “Just because you're being a nice angel,” and he briefly kissed you on the lips. “Now close your eyes.”

“Why?”

Dean said, “Just close them,” and waited for you to obey him. You closed your eyes eagerly while your mind raced with dirty ideas, wanting Dean to take action soon.

He continued to tell you not to open your eyes as you heard him go one step further. After a while, you became a bit upset and raised your voice, vowing not to. It was like he was trying to get under your skin on purpose.

You were about to get angry when you heard Dean was returning. You couldn't help but feel excited. Your body was prepared for everything.

Dean said, “All right, you can open your eyes now.”

You were perplexed to see two artificial little wings on his hands, but you didn't want to ruin his joy. Asking, “What's that?” you gently touched the white feather on it. 

“I assumed we could go to a Halloween party together. It must be fun and interesting for you to cosplay as an angel. See those plumes.” With excitement, Dean gave an explanation. 

You joyfully grabbed the wings from him and examined the feather on it on your own since he appeared to be thrilled. You didn't want to offend Dean, even if the wings were all fake and your wings were more beautiful than those small ones. After all, it was a gift, and he couldn't create real ones for you. He was extremely considerate, in fact. 

With a wide smile on your face and your pulse pounding with delight at the thought that he had truly planned to take you to a party and even bought you something, you gave him a firm embrace and left him breathless with a long kiss. 

“It's really beautiful. Thank you,” you said, giving him a timid grin that made you happy to see as he exhaled deeply in relief. 

“Don't mention it, babe.” 

You sat on the couch and played with the feather. Dean followed you. You continued to grasp his lovely present as he drew you closer into his arms and placed your head on his chest. You could see he was proud of himself, even if he didn't say it, since he knew he thought well of gifting such a thing. 

You lifted your head to see his response and said, “But don't you think my wings are prettier?” To avoid his becoming used to it, you had just once displayed yours. It was something he had to earn. Well, that was a lie. If he wanted to see it, you would show them straight immediately.

“Yours are wonderful, of course. They're larger,” said Dean. He was aware that your wings were far greater than the ones he had given you.

With pride and happiness in your heart, you gently placed the wings on the coach before turning to face Dean. “And?”

Dean gave you a wide grin as he licked his lips and said, “I didn't know angels had a praise kink,” as you swiftly got on top of him.

“And?” you asked. When he complimented you on your wings and everything else, you absolutely loved it. 

Dean put his arms around your abdomen and rolled his eyes, trapping you in his grasp. You could break free at any time, but you enjoyed his behavior when it was this way: passionate and possessive. 

He then added, “And,” which made you gasp in anticipation. Dean's lips curled as you slightly moved on his lap. His body underneath you seemed prepared for whatever it was you had planned to offer him. 

He was mostly dominating when you had sex, but you knew he was satisfied when you were in control, above him, and at your mercy. It was beyond words to watch him enjoy himself beneath you and know that it was you who was making him feel that way. Dean signaled for you to move by slipping his hands to your hips. You felt him becoming hard under you too, as he peered through your top at your stiffened nipples. You had been waiting for this time since the morning, and at last you were going to do something better.

You urged, “Come on, tell me,” as you began to rub yourself his cock. You could still feel his hardness beneath you, but it would be nicer if he wasn't wearing his sweatpants. Dean reached to put his hands on your tits, but you swiftly stopped him and put them back on your hips. 

He was obviously disappointed not to touch you because he needed it, as seen by his clenched jaw. But he needed a lesson. 

When your hips on his cock began to move quickly, he groaned, “I'm at a loss for words.” He smiled and pulled you by your back to his body so your nipples touched his chest. “If you come closer a little...” This time, you didn't resist him. 

“Like this?” you inquired, abruptly stopping on top of him to make him a little go crazy.

Dean awaited your next move. You dropped your top and exposed your tits to his sight just as he was ready to urge you for more. He always found joy in looking at you with that kind of intensity, as though he wanted to touch every inch of your body. He obviously wanted to. Repositioning your hands on his shoulders, you lifted his chin and met his eyes. He was aching under you, but you'd take what you wanted as well.

“Your wings are,” Dean said playfully. “Softer, nicer, more beautiful, perfect, lovely.” He would have laughed at you, seeing how happy you become with every compliment, if he weren't suffering under you. 

His attractive face was seized by your hands on his chest, and you gave him a frantic kiss. When you grabbed his hands and indicated for him to gently stroke your back, where your wings ought to be, Dean was smling on your lips. You became wetter on him the more he stroked your spine. You couldn't stop groaning into his lips because your back and spine were arching with such ecstasy. When Dean began pressing his fingers there, his smile vanished, seeing you getting pleasure.

Just by stroking your back, he was going to ruin you. 

You were ready to experience pleasure together when you made the decision to reveal your wings to him again because it was Halloween. You paused to let him catch his breath. “You're a very generous angel today, aren't you?” he said after really feeling your wings between both of his hands. Dean groaned as he took a little back to better see your gigantic wings. 

You said, “Just because you're generous too,” and allowed him to touch you because he seemed to like it. 

“Is there anything you want me not to do?” Since you weren't displaying your wings very much and you let Dean touch you on a regular basis, he didn't know what exactly to do. Since your relationship was new, this was your chance to move forward. You trusted him with your life. Your spine tingled with excitement as you realized that both of your bodies were covered with your wings, and he was in awe. 

With joy, you closed your eyes as his fingertips found every inch on your wings. This is something you ought to have allowed him to do from the very beginning. You leant back in pleasure and let out a loud moan as soon as he touched a sensitive spot. Without knowing if he hurt you or not, Dean's hands stopped right away. 

“Don't stop!” Pushing him to continue, you took his hand and placed it in the same location. “Press your fingers a little harder.”

“You're a horny angel, aren't you?” Dean moaned as you began to roll your hips on his hard cock, skillfully caressing the sensitive area, as if he knew just what to do. Each move you made had your tits bouncing. He needed to take care of your wings before he could touch and lick your tits, as you could sense, or else you would lose your mind soon.

“Just for you,” you said with approval as you met his green eyes directly. Your cheeks were flushed with delight. “More.”

"Damn right. Good girl,” he praised once more, making your heart melt with bliss and desire. “Come on, you're almost there.”

Dean encouraged you to move on him quicker by applying more pressure on your hips on his cock with your hips as your moans became louder. He didn't close his eyes while you were experiencing such incredible pleasure that your wings were moving wildly. It was getting hotter by the way he was staring at you, almost as if he were worshipping you. You wanted him to love you as much as you loved him, to cherish and adore you. 

You screamed out “Dean!” as your orgasm hit powerfully. Your spine arched with the intensity of the moment, your legs and even your wings trembling wildly. You knew your underwear had been ruined and your walls were squeezing around nothingness. 

He began to spill into his boxers with a muffled sigh when  your climax triggered his as well. It was both fascinating and existing to see him ruin his sweatpants with his seed.

When you both came to your senses, Dean kissed your forehead, stroked your wings tenderly, and drew you even nearer. You asked, “What now?” as Dean adjusted your top.

As he was still gasping for air, Dean grinned at you since you were so enthusiastic and prepared to go all the way. He didn't move, although he felt somewhat hot under your wings. 

He moved your body a bit closer to him and stated, “I need to take a shower, obviously.” He felt like a teenager knowing he just came in his boxers, but it was satisfying. 

“Do angels wash their wings?” abruptly asked Dean. 

His silly question made you laugh so hard you couldn't stop. You waited for his response after answering, “If you want to know the answer, we can shower together.” Under the water, you could feel each other far more strongly and deeply. 

Dean licked his lips and grinned at you, saying, “Well, I can't wait to find out the answer then. Just for scientfic reasons.”

It's a silly little one-shot, but let me know what you think please. Hehehe. You can check my MASTERLIST for more.

[yujiqi]

match made in heaven

stranger!hyunjin x wealthy f!reader

synopsis: you’re feeling desperate tonight so you decide to look for someone to hook up with on a dating app and it seems you guys could be more than a one night stand

genre/s: smut, fluff

warnings: oral f!receiving, vanilla sex, lil bit of dry humping

wc: 1.7k

a/n: listen to singularity - bts while reading! i wrote this 2 years ago so it’s not that good but i feel bad for not posting so heres a little smth! mostly proofread!

you long for evenings like this. sipping on a glass of wine, taking a hot bath with a rich lavender essence filling the bathroom.

"miss y/n, your food has arrived. shall i leave it here?" you hear your butler from the other side of the door.

"leave it on my coffee table, thank you"

you hear his footsteps fading away. being wealthy is fun. many people say money cant buy happiness but you think that's false. they're just saying that because they don't have money.

you live alone, your butler and the others that do your housework come early in the morning, but by midnight, it's just you. a part of you wishes you had someone to spend your nights with. you’re the ceo of the company your dad owns. some say you were born with a silver spoon. they aren't wrong, but it does bother you how people badmouth you behind your back when you could easily end their career.

you take the last sip of your wine and set the glass down. you carefully step out of the bathtub and wrap a towel around yourself. the aroma of food fills your nostrils. you ordered lobster with a couple other sides. your butler left a new bottle of wine right by it. you usually don't have big meals like this but it’s friday and it’s been a tiring week. you hear your phone ring and you hesitate for a moment. you don't feel like talking to anyone right now. it’s your mom calling. she's always bugging you about how you need to get married.

"hello" you finally answer the phone.

"y/n. what did i tell you about ignoring my calls." she sounds mad.

"you know i'm busy, mom"

"too busy to answer the woman that brought you to this planet?"

"mom," you pause for a second because you really don't wanna do this right now. "i have to go"

"when are you going to get married, y/n" you feel like she can practically hear your eye roll at this point.

"why are you so worried about that when i'm literally the ceo of a company? i'm well off, i don’t need a man" you protest.

"i just think it would be best if you settled with a man, have a kid that will soon takeover the company too"

"i'm going to sleep. goodnight" and with that, you hang up.

you’re 26, she seriously needs to back off a bit. although you do feel you should find a man. you don't want a man to settle down with though, you want a man to satisfy you and pleasure you. lord knows you need it. you can't remember the last time you had sex. maybe 3 years ago? you’ve been so busy, you haven't had time to think about yourself. you look at your phone and can't believe what you’re about to do. you open the app store and type in "hookup apps".

you’re shocked you’d stoop this low, but you’re feeling really desperate tonight. you open the app and it asks for the basics. name, age, city, and a few extra questions. the app is very quick to find matches. none of them interest you until someone catches your eye.

hyunjin, 23, seoul

cool, hes 3 years younger than you but you can make it work. you send a request to him and he immediately sends a message.

hyunjin: into younger guys i see?

me: im gonna be honest... im really desperate rn

hyunjin: oh yeah? dont u wanna know even a little bit about me?

me: not really

hyunjin: i could be an old white man yk

me: the fact that ur saying that alr lets me know ur not

hyunjin: true

me: ill give u my address then

hyunjin: already???

me: i told u im desperate

you send him your address and anxiously wait in the lobby area of your penthouse. you mess with the strap on your velvet robe. you’re not wearing anything underneath so easy access, right? you get a message from hyunjin asking for the gate code. you give it to him and soon you hear the doorbell chime throughout the house. you quickly get up and open the massive door for him.

"woah" his mouth wide open, pure shock on his face

"you like it?"

"i'm not talking about the house, i'm talking about you" he says.

well that's a first. you don't get many guests, but when you do, all they talk about is the house.

"you're bold" is all you manage to let out. he's fine. incredibly fine. the way his long black his falls perfectly onto his shoulders. you notice the mole under eye. how unique. he's also very tall, much taller than you at least. he has long, slim fingers and your mind can't help but imagine what he can do with them.

"do you want a glass of wine?" you ask him

"i thought you were horny"

"i am, i'm just building up to it" you look up at him with those eyes. the ones that make any guy melt. you grab his hand and lead him upstairs to your room. we sit on the couch and you pour him a glass. even while he drinks, he doesn't take his eyes off of you. he looks hungry and you like it.

"this is a nice place you have" he says, setting down the glass.

"yeah, i'm the ceo of my dad's company" you’re not really one to brag so you don't know why you said that, internally face palming. he nods and continues to stare into your eyes. he then looks down to catch a glimpse at what you’re wearing. the hunger in his eyes grows even more. with the way he's looking at you, you don't think you can sit still any longer. you get closer to him. he watches you closely. you look at him and ask,

"what do you want?"

"you" is all he says before placing his lips on yours. he kisses you so slow and sensually, just how you like it. you wrap your arms around his neck and your hand moves to the back of his head. he deepens the kiss, if that was even possible. he adjusts himself on the couch, making you sit on his lap. you can't help but to slightly grind against him due to the lack of friction. he lets out a slight groan into the kiss. so he likes this... good to know.

"hyunjin, please" you breathe between kisses

he only lets out a low moan in response. his hands find your robe strap. he wastes no time unraveling it. you get goosebumps from the cold air. but the second his hands land on your bare chest, you feel hot. he plays with your breasts for a while before breaking the kiss. his lips move to your jaw, then neck, then collarbone. you start to breathe heavy as you wait for him to put his mouth where you want it the most.

he kisses the area right above your left nipple and takes it in his mouth soon after. you almost immediately moan at the sensation you haven't felt in forever. you run your fingers gently through his hair as his face is shoved in your chest.

"hyunjin, the bed" you whisper into his ear. he stops feasting on you and looks into your eyes with that same look from before, but this one more desperate. he hurriedly picks you up and places you on your king bed, white satin sheets. your lips connect again with the slow and sensual pace as hyunjin climbs on top of you. it feels like you’ve been doing this all night but its only been a few minutes. you pull his shirt over his head. he has a slim appearance, but also has visible abs. what a sight. he's so beautiful, you admire him before he starts to kiss down your stomach. he gets closer and closer to your pussy and you want to moan before he even does anything. you like that in this moment, no words are needed. you’re taking things slowly. you desperately want him to touch and feel every part of you. he looks up at you before eating you out like you’re his last meal. with every movement of his tongue, you feel like you’re in heaven knowing you’re far from it. you thrust your hips, shoving yourself further into his mouth. he pulls your legs further apart, trying to taste every inch of you. there's that familiar yet unfamiliar feeling building up in you.

a breathy "hyun m’gonna" is all that can come out of your mouth.

"not yet love" he moves away from your pulsing cunt. you’re about to whine before he shuts you up with another kiss. he sits up to unbutton his pants. he discards his boxers as well. he pumps himself a bit before leaning down to place more kisses onto your lips as if he'll never get to feel them again. he adjusts himself before thrusting into you slowly. gosh it's been so long since you’ve felt something this good. he leans forward onto his elbows, his cock buried deep in you. you feel his breath your my ear. you wrap your arms around him tightly. the way you are right now feels so comfortable. it's like you’ve known him your whole life even though you met 30 minutes ago. he ruts into you deeply and passionately.

"y/n you're doing so good" he breathes out. he holds you tighter, kissing the skin by your ear. his thrusts start to get faster as you both get closer to your orgasm, and your moans get louder. there's that feeling again, except it's much more intense this time. with one final thrust, you both release. it's interesting how you’re so in sync with everything. you don't want this to be your last night with him. you guys catch your breath for a second before he removes his head from your neck to look at you.

"you're amazing" he smiles at you, a sincere one.

"you too" you smile back.

for some reason, it feels like you don't need to say anything else. like you both know what the other is feeling and thinking through everything you just did. it's connections like this that you should cherish. you plan on sticking with him.

"lets stay like this for a while, then get cleaned up, yeah?" he says

you just nod, his hair tickles your chin.

you’ve finally found your match, your match made in heaven.

[honeysmoonn]

just the sweetest thought of drawing on luke’s back…

warnings: use of y/n once, barley any dialogue, flufffff

a/n: oh lord… this was meant to be very short but i got carried away😭i hope to improve my writing skills in the near future! pls lmk how you feel abt this and pls pls sent requests!!!

sneaking out past curfew was against camp rules, everyone knew this. but luke was a counselor, couldn’t he get a free pass to see his girlfriend? you and him thought yes. there were countless nights the two of you had either snuck out to sit by the lake or venture to each others cabin for the night just to have to sneak out early the next morning.

of course, all this sneaking around had its moments of regret. once you had comfortably situated yourself beside luke when a kid woke up claiming she had a headache. in the dim lighting of the cabin at night all she could see was the unfamiliar silhouette of a woman in luke’s bed. she let out a scream, calling for luke, claiming there was a “scary lady” in his bed only to find luke laying next to said scary lady. the two of you tried your best to keep her from waking the others, but it was too late. the once calm hermes cabin was bustling with fearful campers. you were quick to jump out of the bed and assured everyone that you were not there to hurt them, the girl raised an eyebrow at you.

it was unfortunate, but you and luke were forced to reveal your secret to the hermes children. on the bright side, neither of you had to worry about someone seeing you now.

tonight, you drug you slippered feet over the dirt path leading to the hermes cabin wearing a sweatshirt that wasn’t your own snd that smelt like campfire smoke and wood. it was a size too big for your frame, but like has left it over in your cabin too many times to be an accident so you decided to keep it.

everyone was already sleeping, everyone but luke. he sat on his bed impatiently waiting for you to show up. it had become second nature to the two of you, and luke could barley lay down without the comfort of you beside him. his ears had become ultra sensitive to any sounds, waiting to hear the familiar gentle knock on the window closest to his bed; yet the only noise was the soft snoring or the rustling of bedsheets from the other hermes children sleeping soundly.

his hands found their way to a battered and bruised notebook sitting on his bedside table. you, apollos daughter, the artist, had left your notebook in luke’s room once again. to you, it was a simple and annoying show of your own forgetfulness. but to luke it was so much more. at lunch in the mess hall you would often sketch, but you didn’t let anyone see it. to be honest, luke did really want to see what you were up to all this time but he respected your decision for privacy. but this, your notebook in his room meant (at least to him) that you trusted him. and that’s what mattered most to him.

a short and simple sound of three knocks on the glass window made luke immediately jump up. your figure stood outside the window and his face got red and hot upon seeing his big hoodie over your body. his hands move almost like clockwork as they unlock the window and slide it up, taking a moment to look down at you. you smiling up at him, you who already knows what he’s about to say.

“the doors unlocked, y’know.” he says in a hushed tone as his hand reached out to you. “always is for you.”

you smiled up at him, taking his and in yours. “i know,” once inside luke didn’t waste anytime before pulling you into his strong and comfortable embrace.

“i missed you.” he mumbled into your hair, pressing ghosts of kisses against your skin. his delicate hands expertly traveled down your body to rest on your waist. “i’m literally like, crazy for you, girl.” in between his words like couldn’t stop pressing kisses to your forehead as he pulled you down to the mattress.

a muffled groan came from only one bunk down, causing you to stifle your breaths. luke’s love struck eyes looked up at you as he situated himself on top of the thin sheets. “i’m crazy for you, too.” you pressed a kiss onto the space where his skin and think shirt met, a silent gesture that luke immediately followed up to, peeling the material from his body.

even after months of dating luke still fell victim to the way your eyes graced his body. he felt as if he was one of the gods the children at camp worshipped from the way you kissed all the right spots and told him all the right things. son of theives, and yet you were still the one who stole his heart.

luke went to lay on his stomach, the way he always did with you. but instead of you under him, he frowned when you didn’t lay next to him. “baby,” he whined in a sleepy voice and you felt your heart flutter.

“you trust me, right?” you fingers gently traces the muscles around his shoulders. truth be told, luke trusted you with his life. if the world was crumbling to the ground you would be the one luke would run to. the stars could fall from the sky at any moment and luke would grab them and give them to you. if he had the power, he would make you a goddess. he trusted you to be a better immortal than any of them ever had.

he nodded. “of course, always.”

you hummed a soft response. luke wanted to stay awake, he wanted to see what you had in store for him, but with sleep threatening to plague his mind and the comforting feeling of you sitting on his back was enough to knock him out for the night.

there was no such thing as sleeping in while living in the hermes cabin, so luke rose as the sun did. not to his surprise, you had slipped out the door before he could kiss you good night.

if it weren’t for chirons glares or the endless jokes from the hermes kids and your half-siblings, you would spend every night with luke, really.

and yet this morning luke woke up to the right side of his bed empty and a post it note stuck to his forehead. the yellow paper read: “you fell asleep before i left, see you tomorrow xoxo” reading it made luke feel weak with admiration, he carefully folded up the paper and slid it into his pillowcase.

sun shone through the tallest tree tops down onto camp half blood as the early risers began to scatter themselves across camp, participating in multiple activities. the weekend were always dullers, yet far more calm then the usual routine of the regular week. one of the preferred activities for some of the older campers was the occasional weekend getaway to the lake. there was a secluded lake clearing just a small walk off from the path, hidden deep in the woods; but the older ones liked to take their own days off, basking in the sand or wading in the cool water.

today, both you and luke had been invited by clarisse to spend the day together at the clearing. you obviously agreed, and you spent the whole morning packing a day backpack for yourself and luke, filled with water bottles and snacks and towels, not forgetting luke’s favorite bikini of yours wore under your camp shirt and cutoff denim shorts.

just before the clock struck 9am, luke found himself waiting for you to finish doing your hair before heading out for the day. “i dunno,” you continued you rambling to your boyfriend as he admired you through the mirror. “maybe sword fighting isn’t for everyone. especially not me, i mean, archery i can do. hand to hand, yeah sure. but sword fighting.” after making sure your hair was suitable for swimming and sitting in the sun all day you turned to luke, who looked at you as if you had just graced him with the blessing of the sun.

“i think your good.” he shrugged, picking up your backpack and slinging it over his shoulder, his hand locking with yours out of instinct as you began to walk.

you shoved his shoulder playfully. “you’re my boyfriend, you have to say that.” he sent you a grin back.

the walk to the clearing was peaceful. birds singing to each other while butterflies told secrets to the flowers. as you got closer you could already hear the joyful sound of your friends laughing and already playing in the water.

walking out of the forest onto the rocky ground you and luke were immediately greeted by chris, dean, and clarisse with smiles and laughter. while you hugged your friends hello luke took the liberty of taking your light yellow beach towel and lay it out for you for later. of course, he knew you better than you knew yourself, and he knew that right after you exited the cool and refreshing water your body would shiver and he would be the one to wrap you in his arms to warm you up.

leaving your tee shirt and shorts of the rocks you patiently waited for luke to do the same. he made a silly face then shed the layer of cloth covering his chest.

much to his surprise, chris and dean burst out into laughter. luke’s brow furrowed. “what?” he looked to you for reassurance, and you just smiled.

“i think you got a little something on your back, luke.” chris snickered while clarisse shoved him roughly, that shut him up. luke craned his neck, trying to see what was on him.

you grabbed his shoulders and turned his back to you. his skin was tan from the summer sun, but on top of that was an array of doodles and drawings that covered him from his shoulders to lower back. his muscled back was now delicately traced over with by flowers and stars. the sun and moon kissing each other good night. in your mind it had been you and luke.

luckily, your friend blair came equipped with her own digital camera. “oh! y/n, luke, smile!” she exclaimed. you smiled at the camera with a hand on luke’s shoulder, his back was to the camera but the tattoos decorating his skin were radiant in the sunlight leaking through the trees. it hadn’t been your intention to draw on luke’s back, but once you started you couldn’t stop, artistic mind letting all your emotions fade onto luke’s shoulders and spine. you drew you and him as flowers, as trees, as stars. there was always an invisible string tying the two of you together throughout every universe, every life time.

blair was convincing enough to have chiron to let her print the photos from that day at the clearing. she gifted you and luke the best photo of you posing next to your art, luke’s hand in yours and you grinned happily. after spending another night in luke’s bed, you left the photo on his nightstand.

he hung the photo on his wall next to his pillow to remind him of not only how talented you were, but how much you loved him, to be able to grace him with your talent.

[b1ravenclaw]

Azriel has a mate and when he starts spending time with Elain. She becomes distant.

She sees the almost kiss with Rhys and she leaves and Rhys doesn’t say anything for her.

She eventually comes back and is in “fuck him. I’m a bad bitch” era and Azriel has to grovel hard cause she isn’t taking any shit.

You can end it however you want.

Relief

note: I hope I did it justice :)

warnings: unedited, angst

The almost kiss was just the cherry on top of the fucking cake. 

It started slow, of course, but it went at a slow steady pace. Always there to nag at my insides, something so silly and small I could not complain, really. So what if he was befriending the High Lady’s sister, it was expected she made some friends considering her abrupt start at fae life. What was not expected was Azriel would altogether stop making time for you. His mate. His fucking mate.

The lingering glances he once shared with you were now hers, his attention once solely yours was now solely hers. And you did not want to believe, when you clinged to hope on those cold nights alone that he may only be distracted because of his harsh work. You supposed he avoided your touch because his insecurities of not being enough may have crawled and found its way inside him again. 

But, alas, it was not it. It was just her. Fucking Elain, and she was not to blame. He was. How could he neglect his mate? His other half. How could he be so vile and cruel, not only to you, but to himself as well. He did not expect you to forgive him, did he? Or to never find out? 

You did not know what was worse. That, until you saw the look on Rhysand’s face, when his violet eyes left anger daggers at Azriel, to you they only emanated pity. Pure pathetic pity. His mouth opened and closed a few times, the High Lord of Night at a loss of words, congratu-fucking-lations Azriel. 

The walk to your room was shameful, glamouring yourself as to not be seen by no one, not wanting to wait for him, to hear what Rhys had in store for him. You just wanted to go away, your things were quick to be packed, and Kallias and Vivienne were not alarmed to see you at their palace doors unannounced. However they were alarmed by the sad glimmer in your eyes, tears refusing to be dropped and, instead, freezing. Your lashes starting to become white with the cold.

“Oh Dear.” Was all Vivienne, your cousin, said. Your only family member alive. The family you would have now that Azriel fucked everything up. Your hopes of having a family crushed right before you, and you let it happen. Had you fighted him would it have changed anything? Would his interest in Elain have died down or grown further more? You felt your heart growing colder. Vivienne had asked if you wanted company sleeping tonight, but you refused. You did not want her to see how much you could cry about it, and when you thought it was over you felt it. Over the bond you felt it, his feelings, and it wasn’t remorse, it wasn’t sadness or even anger. He felt nothing, almost as if he was feeling contemptment. As if he was fucking relieved you left. 

You cried until sunrise, shame sent you to sleep and hunger woke you up the next morning.

Your stomach was empty and growling, and you were in desperate need of a shower. But the first thing you did that morning was neither bathe or eat. You looked in the mirror at your disheveled image, at your red puffy eyes you focused on your feeling of emptiness and hopelessness and sent that perfectly destroyed image down the golden thread connecting you to the winged male, and closed it. You looked your heart and mind at seven keys, never to be opened again, never to be toyed with. 

That morning after bathing and brushing your long hair you cut it at shoulder length, you found your best dress, one that had a high detailed neckline and went past your feet. 

“Y/n.” Said Kallias, surprised, “Good morrow.”

“Good morrow, my lord.” You said with a courtesy. “My lady.”

“Y/n, your hair… it’s different.”

“And so am I, I thought it would be fitting. Don’t you?”

“Of course.”  Her voice was soft, as if she was scared if she spoke too strongly you would break. But you could not be broken, not anymore. 

“I was…”

“You don’t need to say what happened if you do not wish to y/n, you are always welcome at our home. Your home.” Kallias said, ever the High Lord. 

“Thank you, Kallias. But I wish to, just to clear things up. As I suppose they will want to contact me.”

“Rhysand may have sent word, as well as your mate.”

“I would appreciate it if you called him by his name, as he is no longer my mate.” They both inhaled sharply, the food at the table left untouched. “I supposed I saw it coming, he… Well, he took interest in another female. It has been quite sometime. The final straw was, well, his lack of respect for me and self control.” 

“Oh, y/n.” Vivienne was at my side, but it was Kallias voice that made my heart warm.

“Do you want me to end him?”

“As much as I would appreciate it, I know it would not be good, politically speaking.” 

“We can find our way around it.” “I’m sure you can. But… part of me wants him to live with it, see if he will suffer even if it’s a little.” 

“Your call, Vivienne’ family is my family. You know it.”

“Thank you, my lord.”

It was a week later the day you left, that Rhysand’s letter arrived. It was sealed and it smelled of the home you once cared for, one you did not wish to be in anymore. 

Dear y/n, 

I can not begin to imagine how you are feeling, I am writing to you to make sure you are safe  and well, as well as one can be in your situation. Kallias sent word you are with him and Vivienne, but alas please tell me if you need anything I can help with.  

We all miss you dearly, unfortunately word got out faster than  I could contain, we are all mad at him, and I forbade him to contact you. 

He would like to speak to you, but you owe him nothing. 

I hope to see you soon.

Your dear friend, High Lord of Night, Rhysand.

You answered the letter a few days later, letting him know Azriel was not to contact you, or else he would die. You didn’t think they believed it, you could never kill Azriel, even now. It was a month after that you saw Feyre and Rhysand, and how you missed them. All of them, they were your family once too and as if sensing your insecurity Feyre whispered in your ear as she left that you were still family, and as much as you would like to believe it, you knew they  would never turn on Azriel. 

Eight months later you felt strong enough to return to the night court, Vivienne and Kallias held you as much as possible, but when you were strongly inclined to retrieve the rest of your belongings yourself they hugged you goodbye. And when the inevitable happened, when you crossed his path despite Rhysand telling you he made sure Azriel had left before you arrived. When you looked into his almond eyes, that once gave you immense joy, you felt nothing, almost contempt. You felt relieved, that he could not affect you anymore, would not affect you anymore.

“My love…” “Azriel, it’s Y/n to you. Or Winter Court emissary.” 

“Y/n, please, don’t do this, let’s talk.”

“I will do as I please, Spymaster. Just like you did all those months ago.”

“I made a mistake.”

“And I hope it was worth, I hope you at least got to fuck her.”

“I didn’t. I lo-”

“Oh, that’s a shame. So you did really throw it all away, over what? A silly kiss? It truly is pathetic, Azriel.”

“Y/n, I should never have allowed myself to be lured away from my mate, I see that now.” “Lured away?” You scoffed, you could hear heavy footsteps approaching the room, probably Cassian’s. But you did not care for it. “Is that what you call it? Did she poison you?” “No?”

“Did she give you a love potion?”

“No, she didn’t.” “Did she enchant you with a spell?”

“No, and it does not matter, I shouldn’t-” “Then you were not lured Spymaster, maybe by your own lust and desire, but it was nothing you were physically weak against. She did not force you. You chose to betray me the moment you chose to spend time with her over me. “

“And I am so sorry.” His voice was broken, but you couldn't care less. You wished for him to hurt. “As you should be, and I hope Elain ends up being happier with Lucien than I ever was with you.” And as he tried to call you, tried to tug at the bond you once cherished with all your heart, it was much too easy to drown it all out, to distract yourself catching up with his family, your friends. You slept peacefully, the weight lifted off of your shoulders. The next morning it was much easier to put on the Winter Court colors and behold the tasks ahead of you, to serve your new High Lord. Your new court.

[lushaletta]

the lamb and her wolf / tom riddle

pairing: tom riddle x fem!reader

content: muggleborn!reader, tom is goin a lil mad

summary: have you fallen into the dark lord’s trap, or has he fallen into yours?

a/n: i wrote this at 4 in the morning so enjoy this stream of consciousness grumpy x sunshine esque tom riddle fanfiction or something.

⋆ ࣪.  ⁺⑅ ⋰˚ *.ﾟ .˳⁺⁎˚ ˚⁎⁺˳ . ༺ ˖࣪ ˖࣪ ∗

Tom is in a frenzy of sorts, he’s concluded.

Perhaps it is the sleepless nights and stressful days that cloud his weeks that are causing the weird feeling in his chest. Insomnia-induced hysteria.

There’s a flurry of thoughts swirling around his head recently. All with a common theme; you. The space in his brain that he typically reserved for Ancient Runes or Arithmancy was now composed of you, you, and only you.

It makes him sick to his stomach.

He’s unfocused. And he can’t be, because he’s supposed to be working on the secret that Salazar Slytherin hid in the deep crevices of Hogwarts some years ago.

His fingers tap on the book that he can’t seem to pay attention to as he tries to make sense of this. The disgusting, awful, pleasant fondness he feels for you. For a Muggleborn girl no less.

The only solution to his problem is to kill you. It wouldn’t be hard, he thinks. You’re small and meek and all too trusting of him. Like a lamb to the slaughter.

You are a symbol of everything he despises. Joy. Innocence. You are of the same kind as his worthless father. So why is it that he can’t bring himself to end you? To end your time together? He’s done it before. He’s done it plenty of times and without a second thought.

“Tom!” your horrible, beautiful voice cheers, snapping him out of his thoughts. Oh, great, he thinks. You plague his mind and now you bedevil his reality.

“Hello,” he says after a beat.

You ignore his bothered expression and smile. “I’ve brought snacks! You do like mince pie, don’t you?” He nods weakly. “Good, because my mam’s had some sent. She’s trying out a new recipe. Secret ingredient or something like that. I’m sure you haven’t eaten yet, with your inane study habits, I mean, do you ever have breaks?” You ramble on and he listens with fascination. How could you be talking to him so casually? So endearingly?

You’re far from done. “It doesn’t matter, though. You’ll have a break now. Go on, put your book away, would you?” He does as told. He’s not sure why. You take a seat at his table, fumbling with the paper bag you’ve brought. “Aha! Mince pie! One for each of us. Tell me if you like it, I’ll have Mam send some more. She’d be delighted.”

It’s at this point, where he’s chewing on warm minced pie and watching you do the same, nodding contentedly, that he wonders which life decisions he’d made led up to this. He’s the Dark Lord. A name that the world will soon fear. If all goes to plan, you’ll be reading in terror of all the vile things he’s done in the paper. You’ll be afraid of him, and he can’t help dread it. He dreads the thought of your heartbroken eyes as you realise what a wicked person you’d extended your kindness to.

It’s the frenzy again. What is he even thinking? He dreaded nothing. He looked at his plans with excitement.

“Tom? Hellooo,” you say, singsongingly. He didn’t even realise you’d been speaking. He glances up at you and imagines what you’d think of him once the truth comes out.

“Yes?”

“What do you think? About the pie, I mean.”

He clears his throat, fingers gripping the armrest of his seat. “Good. It’s good.” That draws another pretty smile out of you and he really hates the way it made him feel. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome! Also, Tommy,” He quirks his brow. The nickname was a slip of the tongue. You’d never used it and it made you nervous, but he didn’t seem to mind so much. “Are you busy later? I need some help with Transfiguration.”

He’s always busy. Well, he should be. He’s been slacking recently, too preoccupied with your freshly baked desserts and strawberry-smelling hair.

“I could make time for that,” he says decidedly.

Idiot. Idiot, idiot, idiot.

You’re immediately on your feet, giddy like how he’d imagine a child to be upon receiving candy. “Thank you! Oh, you’re a lifesaver, truly!” you say, and suddenly a kiss is planted on his cheek.

A full stop. His world pauses and spins on its axis. Your lips felt good. Bad.

What an evil, evil wolf he was.

[danikamariewrites]

The Happiest Day

Bat boys x reader

A/n: I can't believe @polyacotarweek is almost over. I know I'm late for celebration but I wanted to make sure I got out what I wnated to say. I wrote this one because I've never really liked my birthday but in the last few years I've started to enjoy celebrating. I didn't have anyone I liked celebrating with (minus my immediate fam) until college. When people really love you and want to celebrate with you that's what makes the day special in my opinion.

Warnings: none

Another year another century started for you. Today marks your 400th year and Cauldron did you not want to celebrate. Not that you didn’t like your birthday. Quite the opposite actually. You love having a day where you get to do all the things you love. But when it’s just you. 

At some point in your youth your family started celebrating multiple birthdays together. The day no longer felt special. When you were old enough you started doing your own thing. 

Having a calm afternoon to yourself, treating yourself to nice things just felt right. Of course that semi-stopped when you met your mates. Rhys, Cassian, and Azriel always made you feel special and your birthday was no exception. 

Stretching and rolling around the soft sheets you reach out for your mates only to be met with their cold pillows. Your fingers brushed over a note against Rhys’s spot. Your name was written in his elegant handwriting on the outside. Opening the parchment it read, Happy Birthday darling! We’re sorry we aren’t there to kiss you and hold you on our favorite day but you will see why later. We love you very much y/n. Enjoy breakfast in bed. 

Putting the note down on the bedside table a tray appeared. A small vase with Evening Primrose sat in the corner. Chocolate croissants, fruit, toast, and bacon were laid out on beautiful blue and white plates. 

You decided to enjoy breakfast, choosing not to dwell on the giant party your mates are putting together for you.

—

Mor knew exactly where to find her cousin this morning. Entering the grand ballroom of the House of Wind Mor weaved between fae carrying large flower arrangements and party decor. She shook her head, blonde waves bouncing around her shoulders. 

Rifling through the stack of papers in her hand she picks out the one Rhys needs to sign. Looking around the room Mor spots Rhys in the middle with the party planner. He was pointing animatedly as Cass and Az lifted the heavy stuff for the decorators. Mor cleared her throat once she was behind her cousin making him slightly jump. 

Once he faced her, Mor gave Rhys a shit eating grin. “Excuse us, I just need the High Lord a moment.” The party planner gave a bow of her head, scurrying off to go perfect something else. “Cousin,” Rhys sighed, “what can I do for you, I am very busy.” Mor hands him the papers and a pen for his signature. As Rhys read through them Mor looked around the ballroom, truly taking in the lengths the males will go to celebrate you. 

Mor’s brows furrowed as she thought back to your last wine night. If she recalled correctly you hated celebrating your birthday with a huge party. “Here,” Rhys shoved the papers back into her arms. Rhys began to walk to the banquet table and Mor followed. “Does y/n like these parties? All seems a bit, ya know…much.” 

Rhys stops dead in his tracks slowly turning to face his cousin again. “Of course she likes the parties. Why would you ask that?” Mor’s eyes go wide along with that stupid smile she’s still wearing. “Oh, you have no clue do you.” 

Cass and Az have now joined the conversation. Confused looks pull at their features which are bringing Mor so much joy. The males look at each other, having a silent conversation. “Mother above you three are thick in the head.” Cassian waves his hands urging Mor to tell them. To stop teasing them with this secret information she’s holding over their heads. 

“She doesn’t like big parties. Have you ever wondered where she goes during the day on her birthday? Why has she only asked for a party with the family?” Their faces drop as the realization hits them like a ton of bricks. “Excuse me,” Rhys murmurs, quickly turning on his heel to tell the party planner to stop everything. Mor let out a triumphant hum, leaving the other two glued to the floor.  

—

On your way to the kitchen you found the house oddly quiet. Usually you could hear the hustle and bustle from the ballroom. People hurrying through the kitchen and foyer, cooking and setting up decorations for the party Rhys insists on throwing you every year. But nothing. Odd for eleven in the morning.

Normally you take the day to yourself to mentally prepare for the large party in the evening. You never liked big events or being the center of attention. It was never fun to be used by your people as a reason to climb a social ladder or gorg themselves on food and alcohol Rhys provided. 

Not that you would ever tell your mates this but you have shed a few tears after putting on your gown. Eventually you pull yourself together. Putting on a smile to look ready to celebrate.   

Shyly poking your head in the kitchen you find it empty. Your brow furrows as you place the breakfast tray in the sink. “Rhys,” you reach out to him in your mind. “Yes, darling.” His voice a purr in your head. “Where is everyone?” “We’re waiting for you in the living room.” You could hear the smile in his voice. You smirked, something told you your mates are up to something. 

You found them in various states of excited and nervous. Cassian was pacing while Rhys and Azriel sit in large arm chairs conversing quietly. Clearing your throat the three perk up, smiles plastered on their lips. Cassian made it to you first, pulling you into a bone crushing hug, “Happy birthday, sweet pea.” He pulls away from you to kiss all over your face leaving you giggling. 

Azriel pulled you to his chest next then into a searing kiss. “Happy birthday, princess. How was your breakfast?” “Delicious.” 

Rhys held your hands, resting his forehead against yours, leaving a soft kiss on your lips. “You look like you want to ask something, darling.” You exhale a little. Not wanting to seem greedy but you needed to know. “No, I was just expecting the house to seem…busier.”

Rhys hummed, “Yes, you have Mor to thank for that.” Your cheeks turn red from the shame of your friend speaking up for you. “Why didn’t you say anything?” Azriel asked softly. Letting out a sigh you look down to avoid eye contact. “You seemed so happy having the party and I didn’t want to upset you.” After a few long moments of silence you feel Cassian’s hands gently grip your chin, tilting your head to look at them. Frowns replacing their smiles. 

“You could never upset us y/n.” Smiling at them you feel happy tears prick at the corners of your eyes. Your mates pull you into a group hug, sending pulses of love down the bond. Letting go Cass ruffles your hair. "No more tears today." He says.

"We have the whole day planned," Rhys starts, "we're going to go to all your favorite shops and then have a nice relaxing night in. Az will cook dinner and we can do whatever you want." Your face lights up at the thought of having your mates with you, doing your favorite things on your day is all you've wanted.

[harunayuuka2060]

MC: How's everything here, Mephisto?

Mephistopheles: *hands them a new pile of documents*

MC: ...

Mephistopheles: Those are from the House Of Lords. You might want to read them as soon as you return to whatever world you're staying at right now.

MC: Good. I don't want to ruin my mood this early in the morning.

MC: Anyway, any news about Solomon?

Mephistopheles: He's in the kitchen. Preparing breakfast for you.

MC: ...

MC: *stood up from their seat*

Mephistopheles: If you're leaving, take me with you-

Solomon: MC! *is wearing a pink apron over his clothes* *and carrying a pot of monstrous liquid*

Solomon: *smiles* Thank goodness! Where have you been? Oh! You should eat first!

MC and Mephistopheles: ...

MC: Let's set that aside for now, Solomon. *approaches him and snatches the pot from him and put it on the side*

MC: *gives him a hug* I missed you, Solomon.

Solomon: *chuckles* I missed you too.

Mephistopheles: *lets out a sigh of relief*

Solomon: You're saying you couldn't return to our world?

MC: *sigh* Yes. *has managed to convince to eat in a restaurant instead*

Solomon: Hmm... I see.

MC: What do you think is causing this, Solomon?

Solomon: Let's see. Didn't you enter a weird contract?

MC: That's more of your doing.

Solomon: Haha! Right! But you're as curious as I am.

MC: No. I don't remember ever doing that. At least.

Solomon: *chuckles* Are you sure?

MC: ...

MC: Okay, fine. But I don't remember doing that before my disappearance.

Solomon: Hmm... If it wasn't an impulse decision then... Could it be our human world is disowning you?

MC: ...

MC: That's the best explanation you can come up with?

Solomon: *laughs* Look at you getting pissed. I'm just kidding.

MC: Hmph. I came here to take you to Twisted Wonderland, but I've changed my mind.

Solomon: Aww come on~. Are you really going to leave me? On my own?

MC: ...

MC: No. Of course not. As if I can do that.

Solomon: Teehee. I love you~.

MC: *chuckles* What the hell?

Lucifer: Welcome home, MC. And it seems you have brought Solomon with you.

Solomon: Hi!

Asmo: Solomon~!!! *runs to pounce on him*

The housewardens: *who are in the living room together with the brothers* ...

MC: Asmo, we have guests.

Asmo: Hm~? Darling~ I think your besties don't count as guests anymore when they're here almost everyday~.

Solomon: Asmo, please let go. I don't like being on the floor.

Asmo: Do you like to be in my bed then~?

Vil: Ew. *covering Kalim's eyes*

Malleus: *doing the same with Riddle*

Lucifer: *unamused* Anyway, MC. What's with those documents?

MC: Oh. Mephisto gave them to me. From the House of Lords.

Lucifer: Hm? They have new requests for Diavolo?

MC: I haven't read them yet, so I don't know.

Lucifer: Let me see. *reads one of the documents*

Lucifer: ...

Lucifer: *raises an eyebrow*

MC: What does it say?

Lucifer: ...

Lucifer: These are necessary steps and documentation in turning you into a noble.

MC: ...

MC: What?

Diavolo: Pardon? Will you repeat that, Lucifer? *has just arrived together with Barbatos after they have gone fishing*

Lucifer: The House Of Lords want to turn MC into a noble.

Diavolo: ...

Diavolo: I knew it! Haha! They would listen to me!

MC: *looking at the pile of documents they brought*

MC: ...

MC: Can't they have made it a bit simpler?

Leona: Heh. Looks like they're not willing to do it.

Kalim: If MC becomes a noble, does that mean Malleus can be their lover too?

Diavolo, Barbatos, the brothers, and Solomon: ...

Malleus: ..........

Malleus: AL ASIM.

Barbatos: *chuckles* No offense. However, it's for the benefit of the young master.

Solomon: Geez, MC. You have a lover here too?

MC: Malleus is my friend.

Asmo: And so were Levi and Mammon until they had admitted that they have romantic feelings with you~.

Levi: H-Hey! Wh-Why are you telling everyone that?!

Mammon: Y-Yeah! And it was MC who confessed to me, you idiot!

Satan: It's "they confessed to Us". Stop owning it every single time, Mammon.

MC: Thank you, Satan. But what you said was right too, Mammon.

Idia: Looks like you'll be extremely busy.

MC: Huh? Why?

Azul: Congratulations! You have become a teacher!

MC: ...

MC: What?

[calliesmemes]

EVEN MORE ABSOLUTELY UNHINGED COMEDIC RELIEF

ASSORTED SENTENCE STARTERS FROM AROUND THE INTERNET, including quotes from Tumblr, Pinterest, TikTok, and X (formerly known as Twitter), for when a muse wants to lighten up the situation at hand.

CHANGE gendered words and in-universe phrases as needed.

SPECIFY muse for multimuses.

“   It’s sea shanty time once again my fellow bastards of the ocean! ”

“   Partner, I reckon that I ain’t been feeling very yeehaw lately. ”

“   I don’t study; I consult the lore. ”

“   Yeah, I understand women — they all want daggers and swords. It’s all quite simple, really. ”

“   Lord forgive me but I may have to make a nonessential purchase. ”

“   Those are bold words for someone in stabbing range. ”

“   Yes I’m a gatekeeper and a hater. I’m also God’s most favorite princess and the most interesting girl in the world. ”

“   My primary motivations are fear, spite, and aesthetic longing. ”

“   Man — if I had a sword, I wouldn’t be worried about shit. ”

“   It’s not blood that runs through these veins but glitter gel pen ink. ”

“   If I was in a Jane Austen novel, I would be the one sent to the seaside for my health. ”

“   Half of me is a hopeless romantic, and the other half of me is … well … an asshole. ”

“   I am the nicest, sweetest, most rage-filled person I know. ”

“   I hope I give off the vibe to all animals that I am their ally and their friend. ”

“   I see you’re paying attention to someone who is not me. Why is that? ”

“   Normalize letting me talk without making any sense. ”

“   Don’t care, didn’t ask, plus my psychic visions have predicted the outcome of this encounter. ”

“   I could be so much worse. For example, I could start acting like my father. ”

“   Sorry for acting so strange and irregular; It will happen again. ”

“   i love sitting in my room.....alone....a girl in her cave....scheming and plotting and drinking tea. ”

“   These man made horrors are beyond YOUR comprehension. I get it though. ”

“   I’m a goth girl on the inside. On the outside? A father figure. ”

“   I don’t need to face reality; I’m not just that type of girl. ”

“   DO I LOOK LIKE I GIVE A frickle-frackle? ”

“   I’m about to cha cha real smooth off a fucking cliff. ”

“   Sorry I told you about my trauma. Do you still think I’m hot? ”

“   My priorities aren’t straight and neither am I. ”

“   I have felt permanently guilty for no reason since I was like eight years old. ”

“   Of course I have a lot of pent up rage, you fool! I’ve been the same height since I was twelve years old! ”

“   I was born for shock value. ”

“   Good morning! God has let me live another day and I’m about to make it everyone’s problem. ”

“   Oh, I slept miserably because I was tormented by terrible visions all night. I hope none of them were prophetic! ”

“   Be the surreal nonsense that you want to see in the world. ”

“   Being smart has never stopped me from being a complete fucking idiot. ”

“   My hobbies include knowing things and being right. ”

“   This is good advice, but don’t tell me what to do. ”

“   I hate the idea of authority. What the fuck is someone being superior to me? Bitch I’m gonna take your kneecaps. ”

“   Stop forgiving my crimes! I worked so hard on those! ”

“   My hobbies? Uhhhh, symbolism mostly. Metaphors and implications and the like. ”

“   I may not have any braincells, but I make up for it by having many heart cells. ”

“   I can’t mansplain manipulate manwhore my way out of this one guys! ”

“   Not all your life decisions have to be smart. Some can be purely for cinematic value. ”

“   Sometimes I wish I looked more fragile and feminine like a dainty flower, but I do enjoy looking like I hate everyone. ”

“   Any dream can be a prophetic dream if you’re willing to do some really weird shit. ”

“   girl help there is not enough enrichment in my enclosure. ”

“   BRO, you NEED to stop SUMMONING DEMONS in the FRAT HOUSE. ”

“   I just gave your address to some spiders! ”

“   I disappoint my father as a hobby now. ”

“   I think that the dark circles under my eyes add to my aesthetic actually. ”

“   Good news! I’ve successfully replaced all of my emotions with jokes! ”

“   I have half a braincell left and I’m very scared to use it! ”

“   Listen, son — in this world, it’s either yeet or be yeeted. ”

“   I appreciate the advice, but I think that I’m old enough to make my own bad decisions. ”

“   I’m disappointed in me too. Y’all aren’t special. ”

“   Running from your demons is the best exercise! ”

“   Sorry; I can’t commit any crimes with you. My mom says that I have to study. ”

“   Time flies when you don’t know what the fuck is going on. ”

“   If I run out of tacos, I can no longer maintain my human form. ”

“   Bestie, I don’t think that I can girlboss under these conditions. ”

“   Yeah I’ve had combat training; I can do anxiety attacks! ”

“   Swag is earned, not learned. ”

“   Contrary to popular belief, violence solves a lot. ”

“   I CANNOT STAND YOU ALL so I will SIT DOWN. ”

“   Please God no … I don’t need any more character development right now! ”

“   If you can’t beat ‘em, yeet ‘em. ”

“   Do not put me in a situation. I’m at my limit and I am very tired. ”

“   I may be depressed, but at least I’m not basic. ”

“   It’s MY LIFE and I’ll sabotage it myself, thank you. ”

“   Think twice? Bold of you to assume that I think once. ”

“   At the next inconvenience, I will start biting people. ”

“   Oops I think that I just experienced an emotion. ”

“   Did you know that rats spelled backwards is star? ”

“   One day, I’ll be reincarnated as a pigeon, and I’ll shit on your head. ”

“   On the outside, I’m a baddie — but on the inside, I’m a saddie. ”

“   My grandma bullies me through the Ouija board. ”

“   I’m a cool person if you can just look past my personality. ”

“   Beetles don’t have to do taxes, and I think that is a beautiful way to live. ”

“   I hope that you get your character development arc soon. ”

“   Those are some nice kneecaps … It’d be a shame if someone stole them … ”

“   I’ve wanted to be a trophy wife ever since I was a little boy. ”

“   I’m done being baby; I want POWER ”

“   Wait, “Just Standing There Ominously” doesn’t count as socializing? ”

“   Yes I am smart, and yes, I am stupid. It’s called being flexible. ”

“   I am NOT delusional!!!!! I am OPTIMISTIC! ”

“   I deserve compensation for not being the menace to society that i could be, like i'm skipping out on a lot of fun here. ”

“   Do not ask me if you should or shouldn't do something !!! Before I am a friend I am an enabler !!! ”

“   i am the WORLDS PRETTYIST PINK PRINCESS and im gonna KILL YOU WITH MY HUGE FUCKING HAMMER ”

[yandere-romanticaa]

I'm not sure if it's okay, but can I request a second part for this precious Douma post you fed us with please ?

If you don't do second part to your post, no problem, anything for him will calm my hunger 🥲

Here it is, the heavily requested part 2 of this piece. Hope you enjoy it!

Barely a week has passed ever since the horrific encounter with Lord Douma.

You recalled someone saying that the stench of death is permanent, that it is something you can never forget once you get a whiff of it.

The smell of rot and decay haunted you both day and night. Sleep became a scarce luxury as you would lay awake in the dead of night, wondering just what other poor soul was Lord Douma going to devour next. It all clicked once you put two and two together, of course he was a demon. His strange reactions, twisted attitude and carefree smiles were nothing but a mask to cover up his true, carnivorous nature. Douma clearly had a preference for women for his meals as you noticed that most of the people who ran amok were women.

Were you next?

Despite him not turning around and even outright saying that he wasn't going to do anything, you simply did not trust him. Why should you? He was a demon, a very clever one at that, clearly. He managed to trick hundreds of people into blindly following him and submitting to his every single little whim. All he needed to do was just say the word and the entire community would execute you without a question - Lord Douma's word was absolute.

You didn't even want to think about the other much more grizzly possibility if he wanted a more hands on approach.

Due to the encounter that you had unfortunately witnessed, your work had started to hinder. You became sloppy and shaky, you couldn't even perform the most basics of tasks. Someone else was always forced to step in for you and others voiced their concern for you.

"Why aren't you with Lord Douma? You always pour his afternoon tea!"

"I thought Lord Douma wanted you close by for the ceremony?"

Many similar statements would ring in your ears on a daily basis that it made you want to bang your head against a wall a pull out every single little strand of hair. Just how blind and stupid were there people?! There was no way that you were the only one who knew what was really going on behind closed doors. To make your living nightmare even worse than it really was, on one fine and sunny morning one little boy came up to you. With a cheerful smile on his face he said:

"Lord Douma wishes to speak with you! Please meet him in his chambers as soon as possible!"

Each step that you took felt more and more agonizing then it should have been. You felt like someone had placed a giant pile of rocks on your chest and chained them there. What were you to do, oh God, what were you supposed to do? Do you play dumb or should you come clean? If you told him the truth he might appreciate your honesty and let you off the hook -

...That was nothing but wishful thinking. There was no point in trying to make sense of a demon.

You arrive to his chambers, the doors closed shut. With a heavy heart you knock and a cheerful "Come in!~" is heard from the other side.

You don't dare look at Lord Douma directly in the eye. You lower your head in fear but do your best to make it look like a sign of respect. He sits on his makeshift throne, chin resting on one hand as the other urges you forward to sit in front of him. With your knees sinking to the ground you feel him reaching out towards you, his fingers were playing with stray strands of your hair.

You still did not raise your gaze.

"(y/n) dear, I haven't seen you in so long! I missed my favorite disciple so much! Why are you ignoring me?!"

Who would have thought that this whiney brat in front of you was a man eating demon? He sounded like a little boy, like he hadn't seen his favorite toy in a long time, which was partially true in a way. You grit your teeth and try thinking of something proper to say but Douma beats you to it.

"Do not ignore me."

Icy chills take over your entire being. Since... Since when did Lord Douma sound like that? You clenched the fabric your kimono, knuckles turning white due to the pressure. Suddenly, a sharp thug forced you to look upward and were met with a rainbow gaze.

"You aren't ignoring me, right, (y/n)?"

You can do nothing but gently shake your head. With his gaze glued to you it was impossible to breathe let alone speak. Feeling the pressure behind your skull lighten your shoulders slump forward as Lord Douma brings you closer and locks you in his embrace.

He knows.

He knows that you saw him. Why else would he summon you like this? Feeling helpless you could do nothing but wrap your arms around the cult leader, returning his hug in full.

Ignorance really was bliss.

You finally understood the beauty of it.

[galedekarios]

references in gale's banter on selection

just thought i'd go through a few of his selection lines that stuck out to me.

Oh, what a tangled Weave we web!

reference to: "oh what a tangled web we weave" from a poem by sir walter scott:

"Like so very many of Shakespeare’s lasting observations, it’s  a beautifully expressed aphorism that uses just a few words to describe one life experience so perfectly, and is so true, that it enters into the English language and becomes one of its most powerful idioms – one that will last forever. ‘Oh what a tangled web we weave/When first we practice to deceive’ means that when you lie or act dishonestly you are initiating problems and a domino structure of complications which eventually run out of control. The quote is from Scott’s epic poem, Marmion: A Tale of Flodden Field.  It’s an historical romance in verse, published in 1808."

the next one is is a play on a line from a shakespeare play:

All the world's my stage and you're just a player in it.

the play is titled 'as you like it' and the line appears in the following monologue:

"All the world's a stage, And all the men and women merely Players; They have their exits and their entrances, And one man in his time plays many parts, His Acts being seven ages. At first, the infant, Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms. Then the whining schoolboy, with his satchel And shining morning face, creeping like snail Unwillingly to school. And then the lover, Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier, Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard, Jealous in honor, sudden and quick in quarrel, Seeking the bubble reputation Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice, In fair round belly with good capon lined, With eyes severe and beard of formal cut, Full of wise saws and modern instances; And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts Into the lean and slippered pantaloon, With spectacles on nose and pouch on side; His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide For his shrunk shank, and his big manly voice, Turning again toward childish treble, pipes And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all, That ends this strange eventful history, Is second childishness and mere oblivion, Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything."

the next one appears to reference a poem:

The path less travelled.

i think this is in reference to the well-known poem by robert frost, 'the road not taken':

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveler, long I stood And looked down one as far as I could To where it bent in the undergrowth; Then took the other, as just as fair, And having perhaps the better claim, Because it was grassy and wanted wear; Though as for that the passing there Had worn them really about the same, And both that morning equally lay In leaves no step had trodden black. Oh, I kept the first for another day! Yet knowing how way leads on to way, I doubted if I should ever come back. I shall be telling this with a sigh Somewhere ages and ages hence: Two roads diverged in a wood, and I— I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference.

i think this ties in well with gale's wanderlust, his wish to explore different worlds and planes of existence.

the next one is a waterdhavian saying, which i already took a closer look at in one of my metas:

'Doth thy mirror crack?' Apparently not.

Early on in his learning of magic, the long-dead and locally famous first Lord (revered in Waterdeep for his role in establishing the city as it is today) Ahghairon said, "I am no wizard. I am a dabbler but no master of magic; it seems no mastery burns within me." These are famous words in Waterdeep, still known by most Waterdhavian children and all adults, and are oft referenced, as in the dry comment "No mastery blazing forth yet," or "A dabbler but no master, eh?" (Comments applied to skill trades and crafts, not just to magic use.) Tuezaera Hallowhand was a famous "lone cat" thief of Waterdeep in the 1200s DR who disappeared suddenly and is thought to have come to a violent end. She once robbed a wizard, and wrote this on his wall with a fingertip dipped in his favorite red wine: "I take things. You take freedom with your spells. Which of us is the greater thief?" This statement, too, is well remembered, and usually echoed in Waterdhavian speech by someone using the last (questioning) sentence of Tuezara's inscription.  Laeral, Lady Mage of Waterdeep for some years (when married to Khelben "Blackstaff" Arunsun), once publicly rebuked an overambitious wizard of the Watchful Order of Magists & Protectors thus: "If I hurl spells but think not of consequences, I am nothing. If I take lives but count not the cost, I am nothing. If I steal in the night and see not the faces of the devastated come morning, I am nothing. If I make decrees like a ruler but undertake none of the responsibilities of the throne, I am nothing. And if I do all these things in the name of the Watchful Order, I am less than nothing. Doth thy mirror crack?" These scornful words are remembered and used almost daily in Waterdeep even a century later, though almost never as the full quotation. Rather, someone will ask scornfully, "Doth thy mirror crack?" or "Hurl but think not?" or "Take but not count cost? Be nothing, then!" [source: waterdeep: dragon heist]

i think this one is very neat:

No gloom, all doom.

because i believe it references xan of evereska from baldur's gate 1. xan is infamous for his gloomy nature, often talking about his doom, the folly of the quest, etc. some of his lines include the following:

"We're all doomed! Run while we're still able." "If we are doomed to fail, could we at least do it faster?!" "Eh. Onward, to futility!" "We're all doomed." "Life is so hollow."

i think it's not so unlikely because gale also references other characters from the baldur's gate series and the forgotten realms overall, like elminster:

Elminster's not around, so might as well.

as well as halaster blackcloak, a mad mage residing in the undermountain in waterdeep:

I hope Halaster takes good care of Tara while I'm away.

as well as another character from the games, edwin odeisseron:

Don't make me go all Edwin Odesseiron on you.

edwin, a red wizard of thay, was a companion in baldur's gate 1 and 2.

No rest for the wicked, I see.

a common idiom that originated from the bible:

No rest for the wicked begins as no peace for the wicked in a 1425 rendering of the Old Testament’s Book of Isaiah 48:22: “The Lord God said, peace is not to wicked men.” The sentiment is echoed in Isaiah 57:20, which in the King James Version reads: “But the wicked are like the troubled sea, when it cannot rest, whose waters cast up mire and dirt.”

another bible reference may be:

Seek and you shall find me.

You will seek Me and find Me when you search for Me with all your heart. 

from jeremiah 29:13.

more folklore than an idiom, but:

The witching hour.

Origins. The phrase "witching hour" began at least as early as 1775, in the poem "Night, an Ode." by Rev. Matthew West, though its origins may go further back to 1535 when the Catholic Church prohibited activities during the 3:00 am and 4:00 am timeframe due to emerging fears about witchcraft in Europe.

i couldn't find the poem in full, but i was able to find the line that references the witching hour:

Along whose banks at Midnight’s witching hour (So wayward Fancy dreams) aerial Beings pour!

another shakespeare reference is:

What fools these mortals be.

which is a line from a midsummer's nights dream:

“Lord, what fools these mortals be!” is used in Act III, Scene 2 of A Midsummer Night’s Dream by William Shakespeare. The line is spoken by one of the best-loved characters in the play–Puck. Here is the short quote in which the line appears in:  Captain of our fairy band,  Helena is here at hand,  And the youth, mistook by me,  Pleading for a lover’s fee.  Shall we their fond pageant see? Lord, what fools these mortals be! Puck speaks this line to his king, Oberon, while the two are watching the four Athenian main characters lost in the forest. These four lovers, whose love affairs are at the center of the play, are behaving in a way that Puck finds foolish and amusing. It should be noted that Puck bears some of the responsibility for the complicated relations between Helena, Demetrius, Hermia, and Lysander. 

this one is, i believe, a dnd reference most likely:

May the dice roll in my favour.

i did however have the immediate association with alea iacta est:

Alea iacta est ("The die is cast") is a variation of a Latin phrase attributed by Suetonius to Julius Caesar on 10 January 49 BCE, as he led his army across the Rubicon river in Northern Italy. With this step, he entered Italy at the head of his army in defiance of the Senate and began his long civil war against Pompey and the Optimates. The phrase, either in the original Latin or in translation, is used in many languages to indicate that events have passed a point of no return. It is now most commonly cited with the word order changed ("Alea iacta est") rather than in the original phrasing. The same event inspired another idiom with the same meaning, "crossing the Rubicon".

Gone with the Weave.

this is a reach, but my mind always went to 'gone with the wind' (margaret mitchell's novel and the 1939 movie adaptation of said novel) when i heard it in the game.

nothing in depth here, i just wanted you all to know that, haha. (((':

A rough tempest I will raise.

this may be another shakespeare reference and this time it's from 'the tempest':

Prospero: Now does my project gather to a head: My charms crack not; my spirits obey; and time Goes upright with his carriage. How's the day? Ariel: On the sixth hour; at which time, my lord, You said our work should cease. Prospero: I did say so, When first I raised the tempest. Say, my spirit, How fares the king and's followers?

on researching, i found a reddit post that also discusses this likely reference.

the last one i want to end the post on is:

Your knight in magic armour.

this line is still bugged and thus i couldn't find it on the wiki, but it's an assist line for a romanced protag.

it obviously referenced the knight in shining armour:

The present-day use of this phrase is, of course, figurative and refers back to the notion of gallant knights saving fair maidens in distress. The reality behind that imagery is dubious and it no doubt owes much to the work of those Victorian novelists and painters who were captivated by the chivalrous ideal of an imagined court of Camelot. Nevertheless, knights did wear armour and that worn by royalty and the high nobility was highly polished and did in fact gleam and shine. The earliest reference that I’ve found to the phrase in print dates from the late 18th century – in The British journal The Monthly Review, 1790, in a poem called Amusement: A Poetical Essay, by Henry Pye: No more the knight, in shining armour dress’d Opposes to the pointed lance his breast

but it also features heavily in art, across various periods in time, like these from john william waterhouse:

i did see someone on reddit also discussing the creator and destroyer line in reference to various deities throughout history, which i thought was interesting as well.

anyhow, thank you for reading! i may have overlooked something so feel free to add your own thoughts!

🖤

[starlight-write]

Attention Seeker

A/N: First TADC tk fic! lmk if you have any suggestions/prompts cause my brain is about fried atp.

Summany: Ragatha's ignoring Jax for being a prick. It's only after he brings Pomni into their little spat that she decides to do something about it.

Characters: Ler!Ragatha, Switch!Pomni, Switch!Jax

Word Count: 2004

Warnings: This is a tickle fic! Scroll if that's not your thing.

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"Raaaags! Ragathaaaaa! Rags, talk to meeeeeee!" The rabbit whined pathetically as he flopped face first to the floor to add to his dramatics.

Ragatha crossed her arms and stared blankly in front of her. She'd be damned if she gave into his theatrics after the stunt he pulled yesterday.

Pomni tip-toed her way over to the doll, careful to gauge her mood before speaking up.

"You're- uh- still not talking to Jax, huh?" The jester tried.

To no one's surprise, Jax pulled some underhanded shit during yesterday's game. Thankfully, that game was more tame than the usual as Caine decided to make all of them play a rather distorted version of 'capture the flag', only the playing field was covered in thick black tar-like substance, which made the game slower and over all less fun but Caine did say he was experimenting with ideas.

Long story short, Ragatha had gotten the other team's flag and was about to win before Jax thought it'd be clever to use poor Gangle as a lasso and trip Ragatha by her ankle. Causing her to fall face first into the gooey substance.

So yeah, Ragatha understandably ignored the purple prick for the rest of the day and supposedly the silent treatment carried onto this morning.

Ragatha scoffed at the question. "I have nothing to say to that jerk. Whatever Caine has planned for us to do today, I'm not saying a word to him." She said making direct eye contact with said jerk. Pomni swore she saw his ears go down a bit.

They both knew that wouldn't last. If there's one thing anyone knew about Jax, is that he can't survive without attention. And Lord, was he the biggest attention seeker Pomni's ever seen. Jax would just dedicate the entire day to pushing Ragatha's buttons until she snapped, earning everyone's attention as well as winning whatever sick game he'd imagined in his head.

Caine appeared not two minutes later and the cast proceeded with their little theme song as usual and afterwards, the ringmaster explained the rules of today's little adventure.

Another safe one, thank God. Pomni thought. Perhaps the man was starting to notice how strung out everyone had become and decided to cut them some slack.

Today's game was a timed scavenger hunt throughout the circus, with two separate teams taking turns in the main room to find the mising items as quick as possible while the other team waited in the hallway for their turn. They were split up into two teams. Ragatha instantly grabbed Pomni's hand and not even a split second later, Jax flung himself at the doll and screamed for Caine to team them up together.

Gangle, Kinger, and Zooble's team went first, which meant the other three were poofed into a random hallway away from the action.

Awkward.

Pomni fidgeted due to the tense atmosphere. Jax of course, took his chance to bug the shit out of the other girl. First trying to make conversation, then teasing her, then poking, shaking, singing, yelling, joking, flopping round again, but nothing seemed to break the doll's focus. Ragatha rolled her eyes at his theatrics before shooting them over to Pomni.

"Sheesh, these games have been real tame and non life-threatening lately right, Pomni? Seems like Caine's finally decided to cut us all a break!" She forced a laugh as she nudged the other girl.

Pomni looked rather taken aback by the sudden conversations but decided to play along nonetheless. "O-oh. Right. I-uh, really enjoy not being in danger for once, yknow?" She laughed nervously.

The rabbit shot up as the two continued their bland conversation, annoyed that he was being ignored completely.

Pomni felt rather proud of herself when Ragatha laughed at one of her jokes, her victory was short-lived however, letting out a yelp as she was suddenly yanked in the air by her underarms.

"HEY!-" She panicked and squirmed, having to force down a rather embarrassing noise that threatened to come out of her throat.

"Whatcha two ladies talkin' about?"Jax had that stupid smug grin on he always wore when he thought he was being smart. Ragatha, obviously, was not amused but threw in the towel anyways as it wasn't fair to Pomni to get her any more involved with their little spat any more than she already was.

"Put her down, Jax." The doll demanded.

Pomni tried to grab at the rabbit's gloved hands as she kicked her feet in the air. "Whaaaaaat? We’re just having a little fun is all! Ain’t that right, Pomni?”

The jester grunted and allowed her limbs to go limp, it was obvious she wasn’t gonna get free by herself and didn’t want to risk entertaining the rabbit any further.

“This is not fun for me. Please put me doWN!!!-“

Pomni’s entire body went rigid as soon as that prick started wriggling his fingers under her arms.

She was able to keep her laughter in for all of maybe half a second before exploding in hysterical laughter. The awful sensation causing her to thrash almost twice as hard now.

“Why laugh if you’re not having any fun, Bug Eyes?” Jax laughed along with her, pleased with the strong reaction.

Ragatha was still stone-faced, however, sighing as she moved to release the other girl.

“Jeez you really can’t go five minutes without bullying someone can you?” The doll grunted as she wrestled with the rabbits long ass arms. Jumping in the air a few times when he decided to hold Pomni straight over his head.

Ragatha was getting increasingly annoyed, Pomni was getting more hysterical by the minute, and of course Jax looked like he was having the time of his life.

But you know what? Two can play at that game.

“Gohohod! You two are hilarious. Say Rags, this almost reminds me of the time Caine had you screaming in the air for saying- OOMF!”

The wind knocked out of Jax’s throat as he was full-on tackled to the floor.

Thankfully, this gave Pomni the chance to escape but was still on top of the rabbit’s hands as she tried to compose herself.

“What the &!$@%# Rags?! I was just messing around, there’s no reason to get all pis-“

“Hold his wrists, Pomni.”

That was all the warning they got before the doll’s hands latched onto Jax’s hips and began tickling him mercilessly.

The high pitch scream that tore from his throat probably would’ve made the jester fall into another fit of laughter if she weren’t so taken aback by it herself.

Thankfully she caught up to speed in time to get a hold of the rabbit’s hands that were desperately trying to free themselves.

“WAIT!!- WAIT WAHAHAHAIT!!!- RAGAHAHAHAHAAA-“

Oh my God he’s &!$@%# losing it. Pomni thought as she observed the poor guys reactions.

It was quite a sight to see fucking Jax of all people go berserk over something as simple as tickling. It was a little unnerving to be honest.

What was even scarier was Ragatha’s face hadn’t changed from the ice cold scowl she’s had on since Jax started all this shit.

She looked kinda angry.

“pleheheheAHAHAHA!!-“ Jax wheezed. “You cahAHAHAHAN’T- You cahahahahan’t just- BWAHAHAHAHAAA!!!-“

“Oh so it’s only fair for you to pick on people huh?” Ragatha spat. “Y'know I think everyone here’s had about enough of your &!$@%#, Jax. You wanted attention that bad? Well here you go! Let’s see how you like being bullied for once.”

Her hands migrated down to his upper thighs, the doll now settling her weight on his calves. Giving the rabbit just enough leeway to twist and buck his hips like crazy.

Though he seemed to be breathing a bit easier with the change in spots, didn’t mean he still wasn’t absolutely losing his mind here.

“ahh…ahahaHAHAHAHehe- ohkahahay! Okay! I’m sohohorry! Is that what you guys wanna hear?! I’ll bahahahack ohohoff. Juhuhust- JUST!!-“

“You sure all this is okay? He’s starting to seem a bit lightheaded.” Pomni asked, more than a little concerned at the guy’s state despite what he’d pulled earlier. She knew they didn’t technically need to breathe but that only means this situation must be really messing with him.

Ragatha looked up and stilled her hands before withdrawing them completely.

“Trust me, he’s fine. We’ve put his sorry ass through a lot worse. And he would’ve kept tormenting you until Caine came in to stop him so he deserves everything he gets.” She explained as she got up from her spot on Jax’s legs and made her way over to where Pomni was stationed over their victim’s head.

The brief intermission allowed Jax to gather his bearings and a bit of his audacity too it seemed like.

“Yohohou…*huff*… You two are going to regret this. D-Dohohohon’t think for a second that you won anything. After all there’s plenty of centipedes for me to-AAAAA!!!!”

That ungodly shriek was almost worse than the first one. The jerk didn’t even get to finish his little vow for revenge before Ragatha dropped back down to scribble, squeeze, and prob rapidly over her victim’s belly.

“I know you can’t fathom the feeling, Jax, but I was going to be nice and call it quits there. But you just don’t know when to. Shut. Your. TRAP!!”

Pomni couldn’t help herself from laughing this time. With nothing pinning the poor guy’s legs down, they were flying through the air in every direction while he screamed like a little girl.

Seriously, Pomni doubted even she could reach that kind of pitch.

The whole things was just ridiculous to watch. She was sure her ears were bleeding by now but she couldn’t help the full on belly laughter that forced its way out of her.

Ragatha looked over at her friend as she doubled over in laughter. It was at that point, Ragatha truly realized how ridiculous this entire situation was and that scowl she had permanently plastered on her face finally bloomed into a smile as she too began to laugh.

Another ear-piercing screech and they were both done.

The two of them simultaneously lost their hold on their victim as they fell to the floor, rolling and clutching their stomachs as bouts of laughter poured out of them.

Jax layed there for a while, absolutely mortified at this entire ordeal. He began plotting his revenge almost immediately, if only to keep himself sane while hearing those two &!$@%# laugh at him.

Okay, maybe he wasn’t fond of all the attention he received.

Just as the girl’s laughter was starting to die down, a voice boomed through the hallway.

“Terribly sorry for the wait, friends! It appears that there’s been a rather embarrassing oversight on my part! You see, I told the others that I’ve hidden five items but instead only hid four! The fifth one was in my POCKET!-“

Caine explained as he pulled a rubber duck out of his pocket. Stopping himself abruptly seeing the state his other three guests were in.

Was it that funny? The ringmaster asked himself at hearing the two girl’s laughter finally dying down. That was before he saw Jax, still sprawled out on the floor and decided he didn’t really want to know.

“Does this mean we forfeit?” Jax slurred lazily.

“Nonsense!” Caine announced, deciding to ignore the his guest’s disappointed groans. “This just means we have to start a new game! You all seemed to LOVE playing ‘Capture the Flag’ yesterday! So I thought, why not give it another GO-“

Ragatha threw her shoe at the ringmaster before he even finished his statement. Of course, this prompted another bout of laughter from both Pomni and Jax this time.

Unfortunately, Caine took all of that as enthusiasm and prepared their little field from yesterday.

Pomni wasn’t certain if those two were gonna bring their bad energy back on the field, not to mention Jax was no doubt itching for payback right about now.

One thing was for certain, though. Pomni was staying the &!$@%# out of it this time.

[fictionalthrill]

Forced Hand: Chapter 1 - Inescapable Past

A/N: Greetings! Here is the first chapter of my Gwayne Hightower series. Sorry for making it such a late post! Thanks to whomever takes the time to read my writing. As I mentioned yesterday on this post, this series will not be fully canon nor will it accurately follow details from the show/book. I will follow certain details but given the nature of the story, I will take many liberties. Also, I will do my best create a HoTD environment through descriptions and dialogue, but I don't expect that to be accurate either...

Also, I will now present my blog as an 18+ space given the route I plan to take with my writing. I don't plan to write anything explicitly salacious, but certain topics and themes will come up and I just want to be cautious.

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Description: Lady Y/N Blackstone is informed by her father that he intends to arrange a marriage for her... again. Meanwhile, Gwayne gets a visit from his father. WARNINGS FOR THE CHAPTER: Nothing that requires warning. Pairing: Female Reader (Lady Y/N Blackstone) x Gwayne Hightower

There were many ways in which Y/N’s day could have started. However, as she tried to indulge her morning meal, the way her day already unfolded was certainly not what she had expected.

         “I’m sorry, father, but I must refuse to this,” she said.

         “Refuse? Darling, you cannot simply refuse, this is not how things work,” he said.

         “I believe I should be allowed to refuse yet another forced marriage attempt. I do not need to be married off, I can survive on my own. I say you do not concern yourself with me and rather focus on Lorenah’s future.”

         “Y/N, you are my daughter, as is Lorenah, both your futures are of my concern.”

         “But to go through this again? I do not wish to endure all I did the first time. I would rather Lorenah’s prospects are secured, properly, so she does not suffer the same fate as me. The rest does not matter.”

         “But it does. Who shall provide for you and look after you once I am gone?” her father said, but then found himself in a cough fit. Y/N went to stand to help but he waved his hand. “I am alright.”

         “I do not need to be looked after, father. Besides, I am far from the preferred marriage age, and my prospects have long been tarnished. You know who made sure of that.”

         “You are not far from the marriage age. It might not be the ideal but—”

         “What has brought this on again, anyways? It was aunt Sesa, was it not?”        

         “Your aunt—”

         “I knew it,” she cut him off and stood up. “Any time that woman visits she takes it upon herself to intervene in our lives and you let her!”

         “Y/N.”

         “No. She intervened when you try to marry me off and we all know how that went. Then she rushed you into finding Aianna a match, and now she’s back looking to start things up again.”

         “Y/N, how can your future be ensured if I am no longer walking the earth?”

         She came closer to him and took his hand in hers. “Father, I understand you care and in caring you worry for me, but I will be fine. Besides, I’ve already spoken to Aianna, and her and Lord Corbus are more than happy to take me in, if needs be.”

         He removed his hand from hers. “You’ve discussed this with your sister?”

         “You didn’t really believe I hoped to give marriage another try did you?”

         He stared at her. “That was not for you to discuss.”

         “No? Father, it is my life, and the last time it was in someone else’s hand, I was—”

         Just then, Sesa appeared in the room. “Good morrow, Lord Blackstone. Ah, Y/N!”

         “Aunt Sesa,” Y/N grumbled as she walked away from her father.

         “Sesa, morning,” Lord Blackstone greeted.

         Sesa approached the table and took a seat.

         “I am going to see how preparations are going for Lorenah’s arrival,” Y/N said.

         “Oh, Y/N, has your father told you the news?”

         “That—”

         “I was actually discussing it with her now.”

         “Oh, there’s no need for discussion this is great news!”          “I beg to differ,” Y/N said.

         “Y/N, it is unbecoming of a lady of your age and stature to be unwed.”

         “What is unbecoming is to be engaged one day only to find out the next it is no longer so.”

         “Y/N,” her father tried to reign her in.

         “Well, yes, that is unbecoming and unfortunate. But it does not define the rest of your life. Being a spinster, however, that can stain a family name.”

         She walked towards the doors and turned to stare at her aunt Sesa. “My status has not affected this family in any way. Aianna was able to marry well and Lorenah has garnered the favor of many suitors already, all awaiting the day father accepts an offer for her hand.”

         “Y/N,” Lord Blackstone tried again.

         “This is you having nothing to do but to meddle in our lives, yet again.”

         “Y/N!”

         Her eyes landed on her father.

         “It’s alright, Lord Blackstone,” Sesa said. “I am not meddling. Like my own two daughters, you and your sisters were born to fulfill your duties. You are to marry and provide your Lord husbands with heirs to further extend the livelihood of this house. I am only trying to aid your father so that you may pursue that.”

         “Aunt Sesa, might I remind you, that I was not the one to choose this path for myself. And this time, I refuse to be humiliated again by others making decisions for me. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

         “Y/N,” her father called after her as she left the room. Sesa waved him off.

         “It is alright, Lord Blackstone. Let her decompress; give her time.”

         “I am afraid she has grown too stubborn as well hot-headed.”

         “All a result of being unwed. Which is why it is so important you find her a husband before it becomes permanent.”

         “I do not know about that, Sesa. It was not until I mentioned a husband that she lashed out in that way. The gods know what fire burns inside her since her misfortune… it’s taken her time to make peace with it all and here I am looking to drag her down the aisle again.”

         “My Lord, it is a woman’s duty to wed. While the circumstances were unforeseen and out of your control, it does not mean she must be condemned to the life of a spinster. If a lord will have her as a wife, you must not pass on the opportunity. Have you sent word?”

         “Not as of yet. I have only just considered this and, so far, she is unaccepting of the idea.”

         “She will accept it in time. As fathers and mothers, we know what is best for our children.”

         “May the gods will it so. I will make it known tomorrow.”

--

         After Blackstone finally made his plans for his daughter known, several days passed and it was enough time for word to spread. The eligibility of the daughter of one of the most prominent houses in the Veil was news that would gradually reach others. However, given said daughter was once engaged, word spread like wildfire.

         Y/N did her best to keep her mind off it, resorting to avoiding the subject and everyone in her path. That was until her sister’s arrival.

Y/N stood on the steps of the Blackstone castle watching as Lorenah exited one of the family carriages and made her towards the entrance. A smile broke on Y/N’s face as Lorenah approached her and wrapped her arms around her middle.

“Oh, how I missed you!” Y/N said.

“I missed you too, sister!” Lorenah replied.

As Y/N let go, she grabbed Lorenah’s hands, and her eyes scanned her fully. “Is that a new dress?”

“Do you like it? Aianna had it made for me.”

“It is beautiful, but not as beautiful as you are.” Y/N came at her sister’s side and draped an arm over her shoulders as she guided her in. “Come, I want you to tell me everything. From the beginning of your journey to the very end. You must be hungry.”

Just as they had made it inside, their father appeared to greet Lorenah. “My sweet little, Lorenah!” He extended his arms for her, and she left Y/N’s side to hug him.

“Father!”

Lord Blackstone chuckled as he took a step back to get a better look at his youngest daughter. “You appear taller. Or am I just getting smaller?”

“It is only because you have not seen me in some time, father.”

“Maybe so.”

Suddenly, Sesa came into the room, her arms extended, but not as an opening for a hug. “My dear, Lorenah, you have returned!”

Lorenah, stood before Sesa and curtsied. “Aunt Sesa.”

“It is good to see you again, my niece.”

          “I am glad to have returned, Aunt Sesa.”

         “Right, let us eat!” Lord Blackstone said. “The cook has prepared your favorite. Go on, it should be served soon.”

         “Thank you, father.” As Lorenah proceeded to the room, Sesa not far behind her, Y/N stood in place, contemplating whether dinner would be worth sitting through.

         “Will you be joining us, Y/N?” Lord Blackstone asked. “I am sure Lorenah would be happy if you joined us.”

         “I suppose so.” Y/N was about to strut past her father when he held her hand in his.

         “Dearest, please do not continue to be angry with me. I am only trying to do what is best for you.”

         “If that were really the case you would not choose for me to endure this again.”

         “Who will look after you when I am gone? Who will provide for you if I do not find you a husband to do so?”

         “Father, Aianna and I discussed this. They are willing to take me in.”      

         A fit of coughs broke out of him before he continued. “I do not appreciate you discussing something like this with your sister. It is not up to you to make these decisions.”

         “Father, listen to yourself. You are ill. You need me here. Lorenah, needs me here.”

         He placed a hand on her cheek. “My daughter, you are unlike no other. You have always strived to put yourself last. But this is not something you can be left behind on. Please, let us get past this.”

         “Clearly, I have no choice in the matter,” she said before she walked away from her father.

--

         As the Lord of Oldtown, Ser Gwayne Hightower did not take interest in news or happenings of the Realm unless it concerned his House or the interests of the crown. If he did not hear of it from his close advisors, he would learn of it from his father, the Hand of the King. Which is why he assumed there was something of critical importance when he was informed his father arrived.

         One of his advisors left his side as he walked over to Ser Otto. “Lord Hand, I was not aware you would be coming to Oldtown.”

         “It was not planned. We must talk,” Otto said.

         “Let us go inside then.”

         Gwayne led his father towards his study. As they stepped inside, one of the servants appeared at the door. “Shall I bring forth refreshments, my lords?”

         “No, leave us.” Otto answered. The servant bowed his head and left the two men in the study.

         “Is this a matter of the crown?” Gwayne asked.

         “No, not directly.”

         “Not directly?”

         “I received word that Lord Blackstone is once again offering the hand of one of his daughters.”

         Gwayne’s eyes snapped up to his father. Now, the courting of a lord’s daughter wasn’t something that garnered his attention. But in this instance, he couldn’t help himself.

         “And this concerns us how?”

         “It is Lady Y/N.”

         It was as Gwayne feared. Still, he kept his composure before his father, as to not reveal his disappointment. “I do not understand, father. You came all the way from King’s Landing to tell me this?”

         Otto approached his son. “Not just to tell you, but to urge you to request her hand.”

         “Request her hand?”

         “Gwayne, this is a union that could be most beneficial to our family. Lady Y/N is the eldest of Blackstone’s daughter, one of the richest and most influential families of the Riverlands.”

         “All of this I know. In fact, I can recall vying for her hand once and winning it. This was then accompanied by your disapproval which led me to call off the engagement.”

         “Gwayne you were far too young and naïve for marriage, at the time. Your duty was to Oldtown.”

         “Yes, and it continues to be so. How is this now a priority? How is this now what you want?”

         Otto took a deep breath. “Blackstone is ill. When he first learned of his illness, he made it known to some of his closest advisors, that whomever his eldest should marry, would inherit Blackstone castle, along with whatever land and fortune is left to his name. Of course, he’d leave for his other daughters and whatever descendants they produced.”

         “So, that’s the interest? The inheritance?” Gwayne stared at Otto.

         “Gwayne, do you understand the influence of the Blackstones in the Riverlands? Do you know what a marriage between our houses could bring?”

         “Why now, father? Why not let me go through with it when we were already betrothed?”

         “As I already said, Oldtown was the priority. Besides, Blackstone did not decide his intentions with his inheritance until after he learned he was ill.”

         “Did he tell you all this?”

         “No. But I have a direct source who confirmed it all.”

         Gwayne sighed. “Even if I wanted to, Lord Blackstone made it clear he wanted no business with me after what I did.”

         “Leave Blackstone, to me. Focus on Lady Y/N and winning her favor.”

         “This attempt will surely be fruitless.”

         Otto placed a hand on his son’s shoulder. “Trust me, we will get this union.”

         “Even if Blackstone gave us his approval, what of Lady Y/N? She surely still hates me. She will never go for the marriage.”

         “Then you charm her, pursue her. Show her you want this marriage.”

         “I respect your optimism, father. But for once, I do not see how we will be successful in this endeavor.”

         “Make sure to win her favor. The rest will come about.”

         Gwayne nodded. “Fine.”

         “We leave in the evening.”

         “The evening?”

         “The sooner we meet with Blackstone, the better our advantage.”

         “Did he not just announce this?”

         “Sufficient time has passed for word to go around. Coincidently, the Prince of Dorne is traveling through land to his home. But it is well known he is in search of a wife. If he has heard about this, there is a high chance he will pay Blackstone a visit.”

         Gwayne cleared his throat. “Would leaving at dawn not be better?”

         “If we are to prevent the Prince of Dorne from persuading Blackstone, we would leave now. But being as I rushed here, I shall have a meal, and we will gather our things to leave this evening.”

         “As you wish,” Gwayne nodded.

Chapter 2 - Looking Ahead