#this wip was MONTHS old dear lord

[theokusgallery]

I am always ready to drop the biggest bangers of my career at 2am. Anyway look at his ear I'm so proud of it

[oh-koenig-my-koenig]

Fit for a King - WIP - "Open wide, Prinzessin"

Fit for a King - Masterlist

a/n: a little chapter i wrote this week, mostly while on the go, so i hope there aren't that many typos hehe

CW: arm p*rn, rough bj, light degradation

(NSFW)

The atmosphere is quite different today. Chatter is filling the team tent, everybody's sitting in loose groups and me right in the middle. Not on the outside like it has been the case some times before that. The team is coming together, especially on missions like this. On the other side of the tent, Horangi is cracking jokes and telling stories from times when he and König went to bars in the villages. Beside me Nikto and Aksel are philosophizing about how they don't miss the midnight sun, but I'm only half participating in the conversation because my attention is on the other side of the room. On the tall austrian man standing behind Horangi to be precise. On his arms to get even further into detail. He's wearing a simple black t-shirt with short sleeves that hug his bizeps in a certain kinda way. Get yourself together, it's only fabric around some muscled arms. But oh lord, what arms. My minds flashes back to when I was holding onto them - for dear life! - as he was fucking me senseless.

He has his arms crossed in front of his chest, only his hands covered by gloves. His hood is tucked into the t-shirt, secured in place by the clothing item. So, really, the only parts of his body are his arms and his eyes. And those got me feeling like a victorian man seeing ankles for the first time. He's not really participating in the conversation, not talking a lot at least, but every so often he laughs about one of Horangi's raunchy jokes and his whole body is shaking with laughter.

His arms tense and relax with his movements, the cords in his muscles moving under the inked skin, the outlines of his veins fighting the shapes of his tattoos. I will myself to look away, to pay attention to what the others are chatting about, but my eyes always wander back to him. His gaze is already on me, every single time, but with the hood it's always hard to make out where he's looking except if his stare directly on you because the white of his eyes contrast with the darkness of the hood around them. And it's always on me.

And he sees me practically drooling over him, over his arms. There's a smirk on his face, i can tell, there's this cocky aura about him. He knows exactly how his arms are making me feel. My eyes drop down to where he's leaning on the table, his hips swayed to the right. I know now what they are capable of and the thought sends a pang of dirty need between my legs. I don't even dare to speak about how his cargo pants hug his lap, because... Well, there isn't much left to the imagination. Why are they so goddamn tight? My mind directly goes to the naughty places, letting the possibility linger to maybe unzip them and freeing him. And maybe put him in another tight space.

I curse under my breath as I hold myself back from squirming in my seat. I focus my attention on Nikto who is telling a story about his youth when he lived at his uncle's for a whole month, driving the tractor and repairing an old shitty car. Aksel is laughing so hard by now as Nikto talks about the one time he drank so much and then got groceries with his uncle's tractor. Great, more drinking stories. I huff a bit, and I mean, I get it. It's just not the thing I'm most enthusiatic about. For obvious reasons. My drinking stories wouldn't be that fun.

My eyes find their way back to him in no time. He's looking at me and I can see the hint of worry on his face. I shake my head minimally and smile at him weakly. He gives me a little hidden thumbs up which turns my smile up. Then his hand is gripping his bicep again, the muscle on his arm jumping as the gloved fingers dig into it. My mouth falls open a bit, because it just got harder to breathe. His upper body shakes again and I can see the little chuckle he's hiding while his gaze on me gets all lusting.

His head tilts to the side again, and his eyes dart to the entrance of the tent. A subtle yet-not-subtle-at-all move. A little "let's go get out of here". I nod the tiniest nod I can manage, and that's all he needs. He speaks up, but over the distance I only hear words like 'Wachablöse' and 'gotta relieve them'.

Smart move, Colonel. Nobody is going to be suspicious if he goes to relieve the other guards on a huggelig evening like that. A few words to Horangi and a general nod to the rest of the people. He heads out the tent, his gaze on me, filled with desire and pure filth. It makes me want to follow him in an instant, but that wouldn't be very subtle now, would it?

I wait a bit, a few minutes, nodding along to the other's conversation like I did the whole time, then I get up. "What's up with you?", Nikto asks me. "You're not going to bed, are you?" I shake my head. "No I'm only taking a leak.", I joke with a grimace, imitating their gruff voices. They all laugh. "Look at Müller, already one of the guys.", Aksel says, seeming a little bit too proud of me. It's fine, he's got more of a dad energy anyways. It's what I like about him. He's also the only one who’s older than the Colonel himself. Well, except for Ridgeback because he is ancient, but he never goes on missions anyways. I digress. I shoot them all a look as I go which only makes them laugh more, then I leave the tent.

The darkness and the cool night air surround me like a chilling hug. I shiver and look around. No 6'10'' silhouette in sight. I take a few steps, trying not to make too much sound. "König?", I whisper into the shadows. I feel the warmth of his body before I hear his chuckle right next to me. "For a recon sniper you're not that stealthy, huh?", he teases me. I turn around with an exasperated gasp. "Well, I'm not really on enemy territory right now.", I shoot back, but he doesn't continue the banter and steps closer towards me, until he presses me against the wall behind my back, caging me in.

"Did you tell them you were going to bed?", he asks, his voice all hushed, so he almost seems breathless. I shake my head. "No, I only told them I was going to the toilet." His hand drops to his belt and he undoes it with a single smooth motion, before he says: "Then you better drop to your knees quickly like a good little slut, so they won't get suspicious what's taking you so long." My body already moves before my mind has even registered every last one of his words. I don't think I've ever been asked to give oral this brazenly before, but the blunt filth only turns me on when it's with him. Kneeling before him I have to stretch to be at eyelevel with his crotch. My hands latch onto the side of his hips and I look up at him while he strokes his dick a few times until he lets the tip rest against my lips. "Open wide, Prinzessin.", he orders softly and my jaw drops down as I lick him for the first time.

He groans and his head rolls back while his hips buck forward. "More.", he pleads harshly. I close my lips around him as well as I can, licking and sucking his dick as he pushes into me. He hits the back of my throat, not even fitting halfway in, and I start to gag, drooling all over him. He doesn’t let up, taking what he so desperately wants. “Fuck, you feel so fucking good.”, he groans. His gloved hand grabs the back of my head, his fingers in my hair as he moves me to his rhythm. He’s fucking my mouth now and I can only take it. Hot tears stream down my cheeks and his other hand holds the side of my face, swiping some of them away as he looks down at me. Our eyes meet and I feel a zap of pleasure running through me with the way he’s looking at me, downright feral. He groans again and the sound rumbles in his broad chest. It’s all so much, almost a little bit too much with how he stretches my throat.

This is the exact thing I expected when I got myself into this … deal with the Colonel. Me at his mercy, him in charge taking what he wants that I give to him oh so willingly. I look up at him, his stature towering over me, and the thoughts vanish from my mind as he face-fucks me senseless. My little whimpers are getting muffled by his dick that’s still pushing into my mouth at an almost ruthless speed.

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck.”, he breathes. “Bitte, ah, fuck, I’m so close, scheiße, I’m gonna…“ and he spills in my mouth. I keep sucking him, licking up every single drop of cum that he’s giving me, humming satisfied around him. Then he finally pulls back and I take a deep breath of air, almost toppling over when he lets go off me, but his hands are right on me again pulling me to my feet.

“Fuck, that was…” His strong arms, the ones I’ve been eyeing up all night, wrap around me, pressing me against him and we just stay like that for a moment. “I don’t think I’m ever gonna get enough of you.”, he mumbles into my hair as he nuzzles his face against the top of my head. I breathe heavily so my whole chest rumbles, and he looks at me again. “Fuck, are you okay?” I nod quickly. “I’m sorry, I…” His eyes gloss over, his two sides fighting over what to say. “I ruined you.”, he finally says and I can hear the gremlin voice coming out. I laugh, sounding hoarse because of the state of my throat. “I think you did.”, I admit, wiping some spit off my chin. “What are you doing to me?”, he asks then with a sigh and the deeper meaning is not lost on me. “I could ask you the same thing.”, I smirk up at him which pulls a chuckle from his lips. “Even after I stuffed you like that, you’re still mouthing off at me.”, he says with a little edge to his words, but I can see the grin behind his mask.

“We have to hurry now.”, I remind him. The others must surely think I’ve fallen down the loo by now. “Right, right, but…”, he trails off. “But what?”, I want to know. “Can I- can I wake you when my watch is over?”, he asks. “Why do you- oh…”, I blush. I get what he means. “Yes, you can.”, I tell him, not hiding the smile forming on my face at all, which earns me a satisfied grunt and some more smore smoldering heat in his gaze. He caresses down my back once, then we part ways. I try to make myself presentable again before joining the others. They’re all laughing and chatting away, so they’re not paying attention to me anyways. I get a drink and sit back down at one of the tables, to calm myself down. And ignore the pulsing need and wetness between my legs.

And he does. Wake me up in the early morning hours. I’m still all drowsy and sleepy when he pulls my panties to the side and slips two of his fingers into me. I whimper and squirm against him. “Good morning, Liebes.”, he whispers as he starts to play with my pussy. I’m still all worked up and needy from yesterday (just few hours ago really), so it doesn’t take much until I gush around his fingers with his name on my lips. He undoes his belt again and crawls over me, the camp bed aching under the added weight. He pushes into me, stretching me around him and the pressure draws moans and high sighs from my lips. His hand clasps over my mouth shutting me up as he starts to fuck me, hurriedly and hard. Goddamn, this is the best morning sex I ever got. He fucks the sleepiness right out of me until I come a second time, this time around his dick, then he fills me up.

König pulls back with a satisfied hum and tugs my panties over my pussy again, stroking me through the soft fabric. “Don’t you dare change them today.”, he orders me, the inflection of his voice turning unhinged. “I want to know every time I look at you today that my cum is still inside you, that this pussy is all mine.” His words take away my breath as I look up at him, loosing myself in his eyes that pull me in with the intensity of his stare, and all I can do is nod. “Good.”, he gets up, all breezy now. “See you then, Sergeant.” He winks at me and leaves my tent. I hide my face in my hands for a moment, just breathing and calming myself down. I brought myself into this whole ordeal and I’m not complaining, but oh boy. This is intense. I finally get up and dress myself, following his order. Of course.

[amnevitahwritesstuff]

The Pretty Woman AU no one asked for.

Fandom: A Court of Thorns and Roses

Pairing: Feyre/Rhysand

Rating: Explicit

Triggers: Prostitution, Older Man/Younger Woman

Chapters: 2, 3 (WIP)

AO3 Link

For @whatishowedyouinthedark because she wondered when we were going to get a Pretty Woman AU. Well, my dear, that day is today.

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Chapter One: Day One

Feyre tried not to let the dread and panic choke her as she walked down the street.

Everything had been fine until that text. The one from her landlord informing her that no, she could not extend her late payment any later, and yes, she would be facing eviction if she didn’t cough up the now three thousand dollars she owed for both this month’s and last month’s rent.

And, at any other time, this might’ve been doable. Difficult, but doable. Normally her sisters were there to help pay their fair share of the rent and cover for each other any time one of them was a little short. But now that Elain had moved out to live with her boyfriend, and Nesta had disappeared to lord knew where again, their little sister had suddenly found herself on the hook to cover everything herself.

And she was struggling.

She was already working two jobs and even then she was just barely getting by. Even if she managed to fit in a third job somehow and started today, by the time she received her first paycheck she would’ve already been booted onto the streets.

How did one even make that kind of money in a few days? Become a hit man? Did she need to become John Wick for a night? She briefly considered drug dealing…until she realized that she didn’t actually know any illegal drug suppliers. Which was, you know, probably important.

She ended up going with the next best (and illegal) thing.

Which was how she ended up here, on the street corner on the bad side of town, wearing the shortest, sluttiest thing she could find in Nesta’s closet. After all, how difficult could it be for a nineteen year old to find some horny old men to pay her for sex?

Rather difficult it turned out.

Three hours in and she was now beginning to regret her hasty decision. Three hours and she hadn’t seen a single man wander past and give her so much as a creepy stare. Instead, she’d had the local corner shop owner ask her four times in the last hour if she wanted to come inside.

“You look cold dear,” the woman insisted for the fifth time as she closed up shop for the night. Feyre suppressed a shiver as the early spring air gusted over her bare legs.

“I’m alright,” she said while trying not to let her teeth chatter. That probably would’ve been a dead giveaway that she was not, in fact, alright. God, why hadn’t she thought to bring a coat?

Because coats hide the goods, that infuriatingly rational part of her brain supplied.

Not that anyone besides Mrs. Nosy had seen the goods the entire time she’s been out here.

“It’s fine,” Feyre continued. “Really. I’m just waiting for a friend.”

This might’ve been convincing if it hadn’t been the exact same story she’d given this woman every time she’d asked. Said woman looked at her disapprovingly, but seemed to sense she wouldn’t be winning this battle and so left with a parting, “If you say so dear.”

Forty-five minutes later, Feyre wondered where she’d gone wrong in her life. If it hadn’t been apparent before that she was ill-dressed for the weather, then it certainly was now that the sun had set. It had to be near freezing.

And still she hadn’t seen hide or hair of a single horny man ready to throw money at her. She’d barely seen anyone out here really, save for passing cars and the odd homeless person muttering to themselves. God, had she picked the wrong day or something? Did she miss the memo? Was there a prostitute group chat she wasn’t a part of that told everyone which street corner was the busiest? Did prostitutes even have group chats?

These were the questions she was asking herself when he appeared.

“Excuse me, do you know the way to the Four Seasons?”

Feyre startled.

A man had joined her under the flickering street light. A man who was talking to her. And asking for directions.

A handsome man.

…Maybe even too handsome.

“Oh, umm…” she blinked at him stupidly.

“I’m sorry to ask, but I seem to be a bit lost. I swear I was downtown an hour ago but now I’m not really sure how I ended up here. I’d just call an Uber but unfortunately I left my phone at the hotel so…” He smiled at her sheepishly as if to say, ‘what can you do?’.

Feyre studied him thoughtfully. He was tall and impeccably dressed. He certainly looked like someone who could afford to stay at the Four Seasons so that part of his story was likely true.

Which also meant…the wheels started turning in her head.

“…And what’s that worth to you?”

It was cruel. Normally Feyre would’ve just walked the poor man to his hotel herself or offered for him to use her phone….but she was desperate. And from the looks of his shiny shoes and expensive peacoat…he could afford it.

The man looked at her then. Really looked at her, with her ill-fitting cheap dress and haphazard attempt at gaudy makeup…and something suddenly seemed to click in his brain.

“I see.” And he did. His entire demeanor had changed. Where once he had seen a young college student who could give him directions now he clearly saw her for what she truly was.

A whore.

Even if only for the night.

“Do you?” Feyre lowered her voice as she straightened her spine a little. Anything to make herself appear older. Sultry. Unconcerned. As if she weren’t about to be homeless in five fucking days.

“How much do you charge?”

The question caught her completely off guard when it absolutely shouldn’t have. This was exactly why she was here. And yet, when actually faced down with a living, breathing man ready to pay for her services she couldn’t think of a single fucking number. What did sex workers usually charge? It’s not like she knew a lot of prostitutes she could ask. And what if this was the only man she managed to snag in the next five days? She needed to get as much out of him as she could. She needed…she needed…

“Three-thousand dollars.”

As soon as the words were out of her mouth she desperately wanted to take them back. Was she fucking insane? Nobody was going to pay three-thousand dollars for her!

“Three-thousand,” the man repeated. His face was infuriatingly blank. Was he angry? Upset? Convinced this was all a joke?

“Yep,” Feyre confirmed, figuring she was already in too deep. Might as well commit.

After all, the worst thing he could say was no…and then she would have to go ask that nice homeless man who’d been circling the block for tips on how best to survive on the streets.

“Per?”

She blinked. “…Purr?”

Like…like a cat? Was that something he was into? Was he seriously asking if she would be willing to purr in his lap like a kitten for three grand? Because if so, the answer was definitely-

“Per hour? Per night? Per week?” The man clarified, face still blank.

“Oh…” She suddenly wished lightning would strike her dead right then and there. “Umm, per night?” It came off as a question even though she hadn’t meant it to.

“Three-thousand dollars for the entire night.”

Feyre was deeply annoyed by his ability to make his questions not sound like questions. As if question marks didn’t even exist in his vocabulary.

“That’s…what I said.”

Maybe she needed to revisit the drug dealing idea again. Surely that was easier than standing in front of this stranger and negotiating her worth like she’d never done it before. Which…she hadn’t. But still.   

He stared at her for a moment with those intense dark eyes of his. She couldn’t really tell under the flickering light, but she thought they looked almost…purple? Violet maybe? Which was stupid because neither of those were actually a real eye color.

“Tell you what,” the man said pulling his hands out of his pockets. In his right he held a leather wallet that looked as if it were brand new. He plucked several bills out and held them out to her. Her heart stuttered when she saw the number 100 on each of them. “I’m afraid I don’t have three thousand dollars on me at the moment, but I do back at my hotel. I’ll give you five-hundred now if you agree to take me there and the rest when we get back to my rooms. Do we have a deal?”

Feyre felt faint.

She hadn’t actually believed he’d give her three-thousand dollars! That was just…a Hail Mary! A dumb, impulsive shout into the void!

“Just to get you back to your hotel?” She asked, eyeing the bills greedily.

“Just to get me back to my hotel,” he confirmed.

She took the money.

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As they made their way downtown, Feyre thanked her past self for having the foresight to wear her ratty converse instead of squeezing her feet into Nesta’s too-small heels. Not exactly the sexiest shoes ever, but they were saving her from the blisters she likely would’ve had by now after walking the last six blocks so she wasn’t about to complain. And it wasn’t like men were going to be staring at her feet all that much anyway. Or, at least, that’s what she had assumed.

Because he was staring at them.

She’d caught her strange companion (Rhys, he had introduced himself as shortly after she’d snatched the money out of his hand) staring at her shoes at least three times now. If she were anywhere else, doing anything else she might’ve confronted him about it, but he had also just paid her five-hundred dollars and was planning to pay her another two and a half grand more once she got his ass back to his ritzy hotel so she was willing to bite her tongue.

“Are you sure you don’t want to borrow my coat?” He asked her for the second time in the last twenty minutes.

And even though she was freezing her tits off she was just stubborn enough to give him the same answer she had last time.

“I’m sure.”

He kept doing that. Offering her things. Asking her questions. Normal questions. Like how old she was and how long she’d lived here.

It was kind of freaking her out.

She had lied of course. She couldn’t exactly have some strange man knowing who she was or where she lived. This was only temporary after all. What would Nesta think if she knew her baby sister had dressed up like a hooker and propositioned a man on the street corner? What would Elain think? No, better none of this got back to them. Better she got her money from him as soon as she deposited him at his destination and then went home and forgot all about this hare-brained adventure of hers.

Thankfully they wouldn’t have to travel much further. The buildings had gone from old and neglected to shiny and new rather quickly. Once upon a time Feyre used to come here often to visit her father in his swanky office in the financial district, but those days had come to a very sudden close after the market crash. Now she was lucky to come here whenever her job at the local bistro needed extra help on the weekends.

She spied a passerbyer give her a judgmental look as if to illustrate just how much she no longer fit in here anymore. Or, you know, it was probably the skimpy dress she was wearing in freezing temperatures. Who could say really?

The entrance to the Four Seasons wasn’t all that difficult to find amongst the busy streets of downtown. Honestly, Feyre sort of wondered how on earth Rhys had managed to get lost when all he’d really done was walk in a straight line away from his hotel for about a mile. It almost felt a little unfair to be taking so much money from him over something he could’ve easily figured out himself but, then again, any man willing to throw three-thousand dollars away over something so minor probably deserved to get scammed.

The man in question stared up at the entrance and then back at her curiously, as if surprised she had actually kept her word and done what he had asked. Then, without a word, he opened the door and waltzed inside.

She stood there for a moment, not sure what she was supposed to do now. Did he expect her to follow him up to his room? Or did she wait outside and hope he returned with the money? Thankfully, he saved her from fretting for too long because she saw him reappear, holding the door open for her.

“Aren’t you coming?” He arched an eyebrow at her as if to say ‘well?’.

She supposed that was as good an invitation as any and followed him inside.

The lobby was enormous. That was her first thought. Her second thought was that she absolutely did not belong here. Everything looked so…expensive. And white. Spotlessly white. White walls. White marble floors. White furniture and decor. White, white, white. Rhys, however, seemed completely unfazed by all the luxury around him and headed straight for the gold elevator, Feyre scrambled after him and desperately hoping her grubby shoes weren’t leaving dirty shoe prints on the pristine floor (they were).

They were quiet on the ride up and she watched the number slowly rise and rise and rise the higher they went. Just how far up was his room? When she saw the number go past forty her mind really started to boggle. What on earth was past the fortieth floor?

The fucking Presidential Suite, it turned out.

No wonder he was willing to throw thousands of dollars around for some directions. This place had to cost at least three times that just for a single night!

Rhys, oblivious to her inner turmoil over his clearly considerable wealth, wandered in almost aimlessly, dropping his coat on the back of a chair and loosening his tie as if returning home after a long day at work.

“Make yourself comfortable. Give me a moment and I’ll grab the rest of your money.”

Your money. As if it were already hers and he was just returning it to her.

She just nodded dumbly, but he was already disappearing around the corner into what she assumed was the bedroom. She tried to do as he said and briefly sat down on the couch…only to shoot back up moments later, afraid to sully the spotless brocade with her…with her what? The miasma of poverty she carried with her?

“Here,” Rhys reappeared carrying a large stack of crisp hundred dollar bills and handed them to her without fanfare. “That should be twenty-five hundred but feel free to double check. I wouldn’t want to cheat you out of what you’re owed.”

He was right. She should count the money just to be safe. She needed it to keep the roof over her head after all.

She didn’t.

Because it suddenly occurred to her…she had the money now to pay this and last month’s rent…but what about next month’s rent? And the one after that? She still had to cover Elain’s portion of the rent now that she had moved out. And Nesta was still M.I.A. and thus unavailable to pay her half. So where did that leave Feyre? Stuck covering the entirety of their fifteen-hundred dollar rent bill all by herself for the foreseeable future, that’s what. She needed some sort of buffer to fall back on while she waited out the last few months on her rental agreement and Nesta figured her shit out.

She needed more money.

And, she thought as she looked up at the handsome man before her, it looked like she might just have someone willing to give it to her.

“Is that all you want?” She tried to sound sultry but Feyre had a feeling she sounded less like Jessica Rabbit and more like Velma from Scooby Doo. Awkward. And incredibly young.

Rhys gave her a strange look. It wasn’t turned off exactly, but it also wasn’t exactly turned on. He seemed…searching. Like he was trying to figure her out.

“Isn’t that all you want?” He asked, turning the question around on her.

“I could…do more,” she said clumsily. “For a price of course…”

He didn’t answer her, just hummed thoughtfully. She pressed forward, hoping he just needed more convincing.

“You could have me for the whole night this time. I can do whatever you like…”

“How old are you?”

The question caught her completely off guard. He had already asked this on their walk and she had already given him an answer. She’d told him that she was twenty-four but it was clear now that he hadn’t believed a word she’d said. And, looking up at his inflexible features, it was even more clear that this time he wanted a real answer. A truthful one.

Feyre glanced down nervously. Would he continue if he knew her real age? Her real name? Her real reason for being here? Or would he kick her to the curb?

She really, really needed the money.

“Nineteen.”

He nodded, as if this were what he’d been expecting.

“And is your real name Vivian?”

“…No.”

“And would you rather I called you Vivian?”

“Yes, please,” she whispered meekly.

“Why were you on that street corner Vivian?”

She hesitated. Did she tell him the truth? She’d already divulged more than she likely should have…but he was being strangely sweet to a random stray he’d found on the side of the road. So what was the harm in giving him at least a little more? Not all of it though. She wasn’t that stupid.

“I was going to be evicted and needed the money. I still need the money.”

“I see,” and just like before, he did. He wasn’t pitying exactly, but he had a look of understanding. “And do you want to have sex Vivian?”

The answer to that question should’ve been ‘no’. She absolutely should not have wanted to have sex with a much older man just so she could pay her rent. It was wrong. It was illegal.

And he was really hot.

And nice to her.

“Yes.”

Shockingly, he didn’t immediately turn her down. He just said, “Are you sure?”

“Will you be paying me?” This was, after all, why she was here. Even if she also selfishly wanted to know what he looked like without his clothes on. If she had to earn her paycheck on her back, at least it was underneath somebody who wasn’t a completele asshole and looked like he stepped out of a perfume commercial.

“If that’s what you want.”

“Then I’d rather earn my money, if you don’t mind.”

He just nodded.

And that was that.

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They didn’t immediately jump into bed, as it turned out.

As she soon discovered, there were negotiations to be made. Prices to agree upon. And limits to discuss. Honestly it felt a lot like that Fifty Shades movie she had guiltily watched on her laptop and then told everyone she hadn’t seen.

“Is there anything you don’t want me to do?”

Truthfully, her sexual experience was rather limited so it was hard for her to answer that question. She’d only ever had sex with two people a handful of times before deciding that maybe she just wasn’t that into it. But he was also paying to use her body so it really didn’t matter what she was into. Just what she absolutely wouldn’t be able to stomach.

“Just…no kissing.”

In hindsight, it seemed like a stupid rule but it felt right to her. Sex was sex. But kissing made it…real. Like feelings were involved.

He didn’t argue. Only gave her a curious look before moving on.

Finally, he handed her an even larger stack of bills than before.

Five-thousand dollars.

Between that and the money he had given her previously, she was officially eight-thousand dollars richer. It was enough to make anyone feel a little faint.

“So you just…have this kind of cash on hand?” Feyre blurted out, a little breathless.

It was still mind boggling to her that anyone would throw this sort of money around willy nilly, as if it weren’t life-changing. Because that’s what this was for her. It was a life preserver. He was saving her and he didn’t even seem to know it.

Rhys raised his eyebrows.

“Not always. Usually I just use credit cards.” She noticed he hadn’t actually answered her question but knew better than to push. He probably thought she was planning to rob him or something.

As if you aren’t already? Her brain screeched, still unable to process that anyone was willing to spend this kind of money just to get inside of her. If you asked her, she was worth like…a hundred bucks and maybe a pizza. Maybe. Not…eight-thousand fucking dollars. And for only the one night!

Feyre took the money and held it in her hands like a live grenade. It felt wrong to just stash this in her purse instead of immediately dashing to a bank or ATM to deposit it but she’d made an agreement and, damn it, she was going to stick to it.

“So…how do you wanna do this?”

By now, Rhys was lounging on the couch in the living area, watching her intently as if she were a fascinating creature and not a very broke and awkward teenager.

He patted his lap. “Come here.”

Whelp. In for a penny, in for a pound.

She sat on his knee and shifted clumsily, trying to find a more comfortable position, but Rhys fixed that quickly by pulling her against his chest so she could hear his heart beating against her ear.

“Can I touch you?” He asked, as if they hadn’t just spent the last forty-five minutes discussing exactly that.

“Of course.”

He could’ve touched her anywhere. Her breasts. Her ass. Between her legs. And yet it caught her completely off guard when he went for, not any of those, but for her hair.

He was…stroking her hair.

She went still.

Bit by bit she felt her muscles go lax and limp. She felt a bit like a cat being stroked into a nice, long nap. It was…nice. Soothing.

“Good girl.”

They were such simple words. So normal. A little condescending even. But god, they lit up her brain like a fucking Christmas tree.

Oh, she thought as gooseflesh broke out along her arms. So it’s like that then?

Feyre pressed her nose to his throat and filled her lungs with the scent of salt and citrus and expensive cologne as she tried to suppress the shiver that suddenly took hold of her.

She felt…restless.

Squirmy.

That hand kept stroking her hair, unconcerned with the bomb he had set off in her brain.

“Look at you,” Rhys murmured into her ear. “I knew there was a sweet girl under all that bravado.”

She felt his other hand skim down the length of her, the slope of her shoulders and the curve of her waist, before coming to rub innocent circles into her thigh.

“Are you going to be my good girl?” He whispered, petting her hair with one hand while his other finally began to sneak under the hem of her skirt. “Are you soft and wet for me?”

Her heart thumped against her ribcage like a hummingbird trying to fly free.

Oh she was certainly wet alright, a fact he soon discovered when she heard his pleased groan as his fingers made contact with the gusset of her panties.

“My good sweet girl. You need this don’t you?”

Feyre shivered as lust crawled through her veins like fire. He hadn’t even really touched her yet and she could already feel her heartbeat throbbing away in her cunt.

“Please,” she begged against his neck.

Those fingers petted her over her panties. Softly. Gently. Like she were a wild animal that needed taming. Her clitoris felt flush with blood and heat. Jesus, this was already hotter than anything she’d ever done and he’d barely even touched her. 

“That’s it…”

She just sighed.

Between one moment and the next she felt his fingers slip under her panties and brush against the curls there. Self consciousness suddenly gripped her. Should she have shaved?Didn’t men hate pubic hair? Her last two partners had. Perhaps there was still time to make an excuse and then go find a razor in the bathroom and-

“So soft for me here.”

Okay. So maybe he didn’t mind it so much.

His fingers sifted through her pubic hair until they found the burning seam of her. They dipped inside and she tried hard not to gasp when they brushed over the pulsing little bead of her clitoris.

“And so soft for me here too…” She felt ready to combust when two of his fingers burrowed their way inside of her.

His erection pulsed underneath her, hot and hard, but shockingly Rhys, unlike every man she’d ever met, seemed in no hurry to attend to it. Perfectly content to whisper in her ear and plunder her insides while he ground his palm against her clit.

“Don’t…don’t you want to have sex?” Feyre gasped against his throat.

She felt a gust of laughter against her skin. “My sweet girl, what do you think we’re doing?”

And then, just as if to prove his point, he curled his fingers inside of her.

In theory, Feyre knew what the g-spot was. She’d heard it spoken about in whispers in the girl’s locker room, as if it were a myth. She’d read about it in the romance novels she told Nesta she totally didn’t steal from her. And yet, none of that could’ve prepared her for what it felt like to actually find out that it was very real and ohJesusohGodohfuck-

Her body seized. Her legs kicked out. Her toes curled.

“There you go,” Rhys crooned sweetly, petting her through her orgasm. “Such a good girl. You’re so pretty when you come.”

She was shivering.

Why couldn’t she stop shivering?

Rhys lifted her as if she weighed no more than a kitten. Only moments later she found herself laid down upon a plush white bedspread. His room. He had taken her to his room.

“Are you going to fuck me now?” She whispered, suddenly sleepy.

“Is my sweet girl so desperate for my cock already?” He asked, amused. He pulled the covers out from under her and then laid them over her, cocooning her in a cloud of warmth.

“Why don’t you come over here and…uh…find out,” Feyre replied with a yawn.

“We have all night for that,” he pointed out as her eyes began to droop.

“Yeah…that’s true…”

Maybe he was going to let her nap and then wake her up later? It was getting late after all. And his bed was so very comfortable…maybe just a quick power nap first…

She was asleep long before he kissed her on the forehead goodnight.

[littlemisspascal]

2023 & Me

Been thinking a lot these past few days about everything that's happened with me in 2023. Hard to believe it's coming to end--time seriously does fly 😮

There's been some heavy losses this year. Several family members passed away to illnesses and old age, including my grandfather who I had a strained relationship with to say the least. I also had a shocking family drama bomb dropped on me earlier this month that has had a huge ripple effect I'm still navigating, but fingers crossed things will find a way of working out for the best.

I had some severe mental health depression episodes throughout the year, made me reevaluate priorities and also doubt pretty much every choice I've ever made in life, but I do truly believe I'm entering 2024 in a positive mindset so that's something to be happy about :) I'mma try this crazy concept called self-love and not think the worst about me, myself, and I.

My writing took a hit this year. Word count wise, kudos wise, engagement wise--but I also made progress on several wips and even finished a few which is a big accomplishment for a snail writer like me 😊 I want to enter 2024 not feeling guilty for being self-indulgent or trying new kinds of writing styles. I also want to shake off the belief a low note count equals it was a bad fic/waste of time -- I don't believe that for anyone else, yet my brain always uses it as a weapon of insecurity against myself and enough is enough brain 😠 no more I say!

On a more positive note, I was fortunate enough to attend several conventions this year and improve my cosplay skills (2024 Ahsoka is gonna be my best look yet I just know it 😁). I got to meet total sweethearts Jon Bernthal and Charlie Cox, Steve Burns my childhood hero, the dear Jodi Benson, the gorgeous Rosario Dawson and beautiful Ming-Na Wen, and of course I can't ever forget Andrew Garfield 😱💗 And most importantly of all I did each these cons with my sister and made some lifelong memories! (Also bought a heckin lot of stickers. A heckin lot 🥰)

And then of course the crown jewel of 2023 1000% hands down was attending the United States Formula 1 Grand Prix. Good lord y'all it was one of the best weekends of my entire life! If you had asked me a couple years ago if I'd care about a sport--any sport--I'd have laughed in your face but there's just something so addictive and captivating about the world of F1 and its cast of characters. And having the luck of getting Alex Albon and Daniel Ricciardo's autographs on my dumb lil frog bucket hat was just *muffled screaming* I literally was a shaking mess lemme tell ya--just ask @beecastle and @undercoverpena who were there with me on my phone every step of the way 💜 thanks for putting up with my addiction y'all! Much much love to you both!!

AND THE FRIGGIN FACT SOMEONE GOT A PHOTO OF ME AND DANNY TOGETHER 🥺😭😭 NEVER BE OVER IT NOPE

There are so many people on here that made 2023 a bright and kind and fun one for me---@oonajaeadira @something-tofightfor @wheresarizona @trinkets01 @kyberblade @sofasoap @grogusmum @writeforfandoms @psychedelic-ink @kteague @prolix-yuy @wildemaven @the-blind-assassin-12 @practicalghost @gnpwdrnwhiskey @bishtrouille @nothoughtsjustmeds @kirsteng42 @miraclesabound @radiowallet @harriedandharassed @hopeamarsu and dozens dozens dozens more!

Thank you to everyone who's liked, reblogged, commented on my blog + sent me messages! I appreciate and love you all so much more than words can ever express 💜💗💙🧡

2024---let's bring it on! 🥳

[dorkfruit]

i put this together using my computer's trackpad so the new year is already starting out . bad .

posts: J | F | M | A | M | J | J | A | S | O | N | D

template

reflections on the year, my plans for the future, some studies i did, and wips for the next year all down below for those who are interested

tldr; we will be ianthing next year so watch out!!

oh dear lord it's been another year. 2024! can you believe it! i don't talk much on this blog because i have a tendency to talk too much, but it's my little new year's treat, so here we go.

RECAP

i started taking drawing "seriously" in December of 2020, starting to do studies and stuff, and each year since i've ramped it up more and more. this year, i did. a lot of studies. there's probably like at least 200 more in my folder now (not including the 300 days worth of gesture drawings i did), with things like painting, faces, feet, poses, etc. anything i was struggling with, i went right into studying it. my art has been mediocre for a pretty long time now, and it's only the past few months where i feel i'm starting to get the hang of it, which is exciting!

more importantly, i started posting a lot more on this blog. i really like documenting my progress, looking on where i was before and seeing how i've improved. everytime i draw some fanart, im like, oooghh i can't wait to show my (: followers (: !! lots of locked tomb art of course. i've been trying to nail the energy of the different characters, which is why i enjoy books so much, because you get a lot of creative control. drawing ianthe is my fav of course, cause she's my lil nasty, but also i enjoyed doing designs for characters i hadnt thought about before, like judith.

in addition to the locked tomb, we had some new fandoms that got brief moments in between iantheposting: Fear and Hunger, Postal, Faith The Unholy Trinity, and a couple of old ones too, like We Have Always Lived In The Castle and The Merciless.

i posted about 115 times this year, although most of those are shitposts LOL i love posting stuff on my blog and showing people my stuff <3

THE FUTURE

my plans? do more ianthe art, of course. ill be working on more studies, probably going to work on developing a style, and figuring out how to paint. i'd like to do more actually finished pieces, but let's be honest, it'll still be mostly shitpost doodles. i'd like to do more weird stuff. i've been messing around with some gore and NSFW near the end of the year, and it's fun to draw for me. i like idk art that evokes some type of emotion, especially discomfort, and so i find that type of art fun to do, so if you don't enjoy what i've done thus far in that direction, perhaps this isn't the blog for you. i really like horror media, and so i want to do some stuff like that too.

for specifics, i like western type art, a comic book-esque style i'd like to aim for. but i'd like it to be a little more. weird with it. i find comic books often draw all the characters the same, and make all the characters traditionally attractive, and that's boring to me so i'll have to work on finding a way to keep things weird, while also appealing in a graphic sense. the worst thing my art could be is bland and forgettable.

locked tomb wise... more tridentarii art. need to be really weird with it. i have lots of wips planned, like i have a whole page worth of just thumbnails, so i wanna get some of those done. also i had a few animatics i wanted to do. mostly stupid shit, once i learn how to do animatics, then we'll do actual serious ones. id also like to do more comics. i have some comics storyboarded out with my girlies, i like telling a story so, need practice on that. id also like to develop a way to consistently draw them, for convenience sakes, so i'm not fighting for my life every single time i draw these characters. oh and i wanna do some outfit stuff. i draw them in like. generic clothes everytime but i'd like to come up with a few actual outfit designs, that i can just reference back to. and, of course, more shitposts. lots of stupid shit in 2024 for sure. there was something else i wanted to say here but i can't remember.

ART

oki enough rambling, here's some IMAGES for yall to look at i know everyone loves to look at images.

began this year by warming up with gesture sketches (almost) every day. i started with 20 poses (30 seconds each), and then in november i was like. ugh my hands suck i need to get better at hands, so i switched to doing 10 hand sketches (60 seconds each). i want my art to be very energetic so it's important that i do these !!

anatomy studies of extremities because i'm flopping at those -_- ive gotten better with hands but they're still a struggle. i hate feet tho still

need to get my painting game up. i joined an art forum to get advice, and the biggest suggestion i got was working on my values, so i did various value studies. also lots of faces because my faces flop !!

random doodles to work on drawing from imagination. on my "sketchbook" pages, as i like to call them, i'm usually pretty loose and messy, since the point is just to be drawing so often these will suck, but that's fine. i don't think very much when i draw faces on here either so they end up being in my Instinctive Style i suppose you could say

ianthe wip. i was planning to do a few drawings based on the idea of her having Missing Arm nightmares, but the lineart was intimidating to me so i haven't worked on this one more yet /: also there was going to be a toontown gay homosexual toxic yuri comic that i was gonna put here with it but the page is way too long so umm guess that'll have to wait.

...

anyways. thank you for reading if you got to the bottom of this! i appreciate all the support that i've been getting lately (extra big kissies for the same like 5 people who always reblog my posts youre the best). and we will be ianthing soo hard in 2024 so watch out!!

[jenerousjenocide]

Familiar Face

Fifty years had passed since the Netherbrain was defeated; it took Astarion five years after to become the lord of Baldur’s Gate. Within that timespan his old companions departed from the city, following new adventures in quiet hope their paths would never cross again. Only one agreement was made among them, set by the leader themselves that carried the entire team on her back single handily.

“Keep it within Baldur’s Gate.”

A warning, no less, a boundary they set to ensure the entire realm wouldn’t be overrun by vampires, although Astarion would be lying to say the thought didn’t cross his mind every other day or so.

The temptation was always there, and it would be so easy.

As much as Astarion would never admit it, he did respect his dear old friend more than he let on. A/N Nobody asked for this, but here it is I'm back on my BS. Also this is basically a WIP, its eventually going to be sexy. It'll be fine. Feedback is encouraged, I have written anything in eight years and it probably shows. AO3 Mirror - Next

Baldur’s Gate, once a city of innovation and progress, stood as the capital of Faerun. For centuries it was built up from the ground with those in power struggling with balance between right and wrong, the noble and the peasants and ensuring the Upper City and Lower City remained as separate as can be in terms of gold and assistance from guards or authorities.

It was no longer the case after so many decades of building it up, only for it to come crashing down one evening.

Citizens had believed their troubles were over the moment the Netherbrain was defeated, in fact they did have a few months of peace, and all seemed so bright and hopeful for the future. Festivals and parades crowded the streets for days, cheering on the heroes that rescued the city from destruction and the lives of all the innocents threatened by the damage caused.

Strangers worked together to rebuild, fix each others homes and offer food, aid or supplies to anyone in need. Nobles made large donations to better assist the poor struggling to get by and for a while it all seemed too good to be true.

Something in the shadows was lurking, bigger than anyone could have imagined and somehow the true secrets were kept hidden from the citizens for years.

Authority figures began stepping down from their roles seemingly without an explanation, providing vague answers for those with questions that one could only deem reasonable. This continued until only one remained, a new figure that seemed to have risen to power overnight yet was able to make his name and reputation known as one of the heroes that saved Baldur’s Gate all those years before.

Lord Astarion Ancunín.

It was a slow transition at first, but it felt as though his coronation as Lord was the shifting point in which everything seemed to come together. For his benefit, at least.

It began with smooth talking his way into meetings, debunking rumours spread among residents that he was a vampire spawn because why or how would a feeble vampire be able to walk among the living so freely? He saved Baldur’s Gate from disaster; it was easy to gain the trust of majority of the population.

The plan really kicked into gear after inviting each noble he could come across to a private dinner. A bite to eat with life altering consequences, and they soon became his loyal subjects one by one.

Like a puppet master stringing together a performance of a lifetime, they obeyed his every command and retreated to his palace to no longer serve as the nobles they once were, but as servants and spawns as Astarion deemed fit.

Just as the city was changing under his thumb, the palace once owned by Cazador Szarr also changed. The gaudy paintings taken down and replaced with marble statues or fine antiques. Some of which found by servants during their evening hunts for more followers to fall under their master’s spell.

Astarion swore he was nothing like Cazador, the wretched bastard was cruel and unforgiving, embarrassing and torturing those he turned for his own cruel entertainment and ensuring he was able to strike fear into every one of them. No, Astarion didn’t punish his servants for no reason, and he didn’t force them to feed on vermin the way he did for two centuries.

That isn’t to say he didn’t have his rules, and when punishment was due it was carried out carefully and with a message along with it. If the punishments were met with resistance, Astarion wasn’t above himself to deal the final blow, ending the insubordination in it’s tracks before it can pick up traction and spread through his coven like a filthy disease.

He knew they would never be able to overpower him if they somehow managed to lapse free from his command, but keeping the peace was within everyone’s best interest to keep invasive thoughts and memories from clouding his mind.

Fifty years had passed since the Netherbrain was defeated; it took Astarion five years after to become the lord of Baldur’s Gate. Within that timespan his old companions departed from the city, following new adventures in quiet hope their paths would never cross again. Only one agreement was made among them, set by the leader themselves that carried the entire team on her back single handily.

“Keep it within Baldur’s Gate.”

A warning, no less, a boundary they set to ensure the entire realm wouldn’t be overrun by vampires, although Astarion would be lying to say the thought didn’t cross his mind every other day or so.

The temptation was always there, and it would be so easy.

As much as Astarion would never admit it, he did respect his dear old friend more than he let on.

She picked him up from the side of the road after he pulled a knife on her, didn’t immediately drive a stake through his heart when he attempted to bite her while she slept. She listened to him prattle and complain about his troubles and concerns, his trauma and story behind the ugly scars that adorned his back.

She promised to stand by his side and help him take down his cruel master in the place he called home. She fought battles that weren’t even hers to fight and with obvious hesitance helped Astarion ascend into the powerful lord he was. Even within his power drunk mind that day, he knew the dynamic of their relationship changed completely and would never be the same again.

He could see it in her eyes when they would speak following the ritual. A look that once projected adoration and love now turned fearful, pleading and cold.

With an offer of immortal life by his side, their relationship ended completely.

Of course, he was insulted by her rejection, but he had no real need for her any longer if he were to become as powerful as he needed to be to bring the city to its knees. He thought she was in it for the long run, but he ended up getting exactly what he wanted in the end.

Perhaps his initial plan of seducing her to ensure she never turned on him worked too well, but with the consequences of their actions it was obvious that becoming a vampire spawn was not a life she wanted to live. Even if it meant being by his side for all of eternity until the world came crashing down around them.

It didn’t hurt entirely, but the sting was still there as he pondered what could have been had she said yes.

Nonetheless it was too far gone in the past to even bring it up anymore, the golden days were long gone and so were his companions. Astarion couldn’t spend his time pondering what everyone else was up to, they wouldn’t dare return to Baldur’s Gate, and he decided to keep things slow and steady while building his coven from the ground up.  

It had been so long, surely she was old or dead by now, judging by human lifespans.

The idea of it was enough to make his usually composed expression cringe with a slight pang of his dead heart. She could have lived forever young, but the possibility she was long gone did bring up a familiar sting.

Not that she was his anymore, he internally scolded himself for allowing himself to linger on the memories and possibilities for too long.

There were more pressing matters to focus on, especially with his ascension anniversary coming up and the grand extravaganza he did annually for the mortal citizens of the city to commemorate the day he gained true freedom and power.

The preparations were going smoothly, his spawn working endlessly to ensure everything was perfect down to the last detail. Roaming the halls, Astarion could only give his directions and opinions regarding where things should be, he wouldn’t dare lift a finger to help decorate.

The sound of his footsteps echoes through the ballroom hall, vampire strung about doing their job to get the preparations completed and keep their dear master content with their efforts. He pretended not to notice how a few of them wince when he walked closer, chalking it up to pure respect and that a little reminder of who’s in charge doesn’t hurt.

Everything was falling into place; the stage was set and soon the ballroom will be filled with people immortal and mortal alike. A subtle feast for those less fortunate to be cast under his vampire spawn’s charms, but a night to remember for the remaining attendees to keep face as lord of the city everyone loved once before.

-------

The Golden City stands before you, imposing and tall like all those photos and stories you’ve heard before. It didn’t quite live up to expectations, a menacing storm overhead unmoving, as if warning those trying to enter to turn away and never return.

There had been no news of Baldur’s Gate for years. Everyone you spoke to mentioned it was still populated and ruled over by one man, a man who helped saved the city from destruction long ago, but regarding progression or innovation there had been little word. You always dreamed of seeing the city with your own two eyes, but as you stand before it you can’t help but feel a sense of dread tug at your heart.

You draw in a deep breath, as if preparing to hold it in your lungs to avoid any toxic fumes the air might have lingered around. Despite the darkness, you do see citizens wandering about and going on with their daily business.

Perhaps you spend too much time reading and listening silly fairy tales.

You travelled a good way to get here, fleeing from your home in Waterdeep and avoiding any questions regarding your adventure. You’re positive nobody witnessed your escape due to the lack of yelling and restraint being placed on you.

For the moment you’re free to explore, get your fix of the city and get back home before anyone is the wiser.

The first step into the city was easy, navigating was a whole other ball game.

One big difference between your hometown and the city is how big it makes you feel. Waterdeep was familiar, you had your family and friends and somehow everyone knew everyone’s business at some point or another- In the City it’s the complete opposite, the feeling of being so small and insignificant imposing itself on you until it feels like it’s the only thing you do know.

Maybe it wouldn’t be such an awful idea to turn back.

 “Don’t forget the Palace doors open at sundown! Our Lord would be honored to have any and all citizens come join the festivities taking place. A night of dancing, drinking and mingling with Baldur’s Gate’s finest.”

The voice was coming from the center of town, a well-dressed man standing in the middle handing out invitations to residents walking by. The practiced smile on his face greeted everyone who made eye contact with him, he was charming to say the least.

Before you even realized your feet were already moving you towards the center, reaching out as the young man offered a warm smile and the invitation. Noting the smile didn’t reach his eyes, you take the invitation and read the contents.

Midnight Masquerade Come one, come all! Lord Astarion invites you to a night of dancing, drinking and dining.

It couldn’t hurt to have at least one night in the city, in fact you were taught that it was rude to decline invitations. You could pop in for a little food and wine and leave before the night was even over.

You tuck the invitation into your pack and adjust it steadily on your back. You needed to find an outfit to fit in, and quickly before the party was ready to start.

[oriley42]

BUCKLE IN, LOML, THIS IS GONNA BE A LONG ONE.

hi !! i'm bea, aka meekspeeks on AO3, and i have only recently managed to properly sink my teeth into House MD, being exam free and all. and, akin to any other Normal, Sane person, i immedietly went onto ao3 to cure my bone rattling depression by immersing myself in fics. any kind, people, any kind. and then i found yours.

and my GOD.

you, my dear, dear, sweet friend, are the best writer . ever, dare i say? i have downloaded your books onto my phone for easy reading when i'm... actually, when i'm doing anything. just woke up? ah, yes, the sound of birdsong and an oriley42 fic to sweeten the summer morning. about to go to bed? well, why not get comfy with an oriley42 classic. i highlight them. i seriously, seriously consider getting them tattooed to the inside of my eyelids. all of them. i am not kidding.

in fact, if i was a tech savvy bastard, which i am not (sometimes i Glance, i Peek, i even bloody Breathe in the direction of my ipad, and it restarts. same goes for my phone. and my computer), i would have made an entire new collection on my ao3 account, simply yet perfectly dubbed "oriley42: The Saga", and thus announced to the entirety of the internet my undying love for you, of which there is A LOT. you are amazing and sometimes i wonder if you're even real and not some kind of... demigod?

(i love your fics so much that i get a little e-mail every single time you upload. that's my level of devotion.)

i have never ever laughed harder at anything than i do your fics. when i add said fics to my hilson collection, i make sure that i have a section devoted to a portion of the bits i've highlighted that made me Lose My Shit. i love randomly quoting phrases to my baffled, non-house-loving friends, and even they giggle. you are a riot, my good lord, and i owe you my life.

i'm a true oriley42 expert, i've read them all. no one knows oriley42 like i know oriley42, apart from you, oriley42.

it's a fun name to type. oriley42.

anyway! this is long. my sincerest apologies. but, coming from a frazzled kid who's just finished her a levels, you kept me going through all the horrid, hasty revision that i had to conjure up out of Thin Fucking Air, by making me laugh when no one else could. thank you so much, and i look forward to any other fics that are Brewing in that Lovely Head Of Yours !!!

have a great... day, week, month, year, life !! i love you !!! <3

my buddy, my pal, my dear new bff, thank you so very much! it means the world to hear this, and I'm so deeply touched that my stories could be companion to you, especially as you fight your way through what sounds like a very difficult bit of schooling (wishing you all the success there btw!!)

to give someone Real Feelings, and most of all a Real Laugh, is my greatest aim in sharing my writing--thank you for making me feel like the frankly terrifying vulnerability of posting these stories up where any old Tom, Dickhead, or Harasser can make jackass comments is worth it, because of the chance that my words will cross paths with a kind reader like you <3

your own writing voice just here in this ask is charming and clever, and makes me once again grateful for the incredible talent and kindness the internet allows us all to connect to and enjoy (cheesy, I know, but I really do get teary thinking of all the wonderful people who draw and write and comment and reblog and contribute to these magnificently silly fictional worlds we weave together!)

I hereby grant you a Master's Degree in ORiley42 studies from the University of Internet Friends--much like my own advanced degree, it will not get you a job anywhere, but hey, it's about the joy of learning ;)

Thank you for stopping by, I hope to see you on the digital streets of House MD fan-land again!

xoxo

PS - I have soooo many hilson WIPs brewing, too many to keep straight, but I'm hoping to pick one, focus, and get it posted in the next week or two...stay tuned! 💖

[roseshewrites]

Down The Devil's Path snippet (1922 human Alastor WIP) - ARFlanagan

"Bless me, Père, for I have sinned. It's been twelve years since my last confession," Alastor had said, the words dry in his mouth. 

A curl of his lip, a sardonic smile. People really did this. Good people, evil people, and anyone in between like himself who had his trepidous beginnings onto a path the likes of which would make someone's hair curl.

 

"It's been a long time, mon enfant.. What sins have you commited that you seek forgiveness for?" 

"No longer 'enfant', Father," he had laughed, "I've done things a child would never think to do except for an exceptionally cruel one. I suppose that was me, then." 

His laugh had been the hollow sort, echoing drily against the mahogany walls of the confessional booth. In front of him, the Father's shadow was cast across the grate, silent and listening. 

"If you're waiting for my contrition, I don't know if I have it in me," Alastor continued, "Anyway, I wanted to tell someone. Be recognized for it, maybe. I killed a woman yesterday." 

Alastor tilted his head as he grinned, waiting for the poor priest's response; if he squinted his eyes and leaned in, he could just see the dark profile beyond the grate. 

He hadn't actually done it, yet. The woman was currently tied up head to toe in his basement. An evil thing, he thought of her. Vicious, like him, and that was how he liked them; but not cruel, and especially not cruel to children who had done nothing deserving of torture yet on this earth. 

"Ah," the Priest responded, muttering something in a latin prayer and seeming to cross himself. "Is this....the first of such crimes?" 

"No, Père. The most recent of many. My first woman kill, though. I don't generally go after women. She'd done something unforgivable in my eyes. See I had witnessed her shaking her child- a four month old, mind you- and it was crying so loudly and screaming, I couldn't help myself. I saw red, and before I knew it I had taken the baby from her and sliced her throat with my pocket knife." 

.."And the child?" 

"Safe," Alastor quipped, "I'm not that much of a monster! Not yet. She's with the Ursuline Sisters in the French Quarter." 

"You said you're not here to feel contrition. Why tell me all this then?" - dear Père was having trouble keeping the tremor out of his voice. Too bad, Alastor thought with glee, he is honor bound to keep the anonymity of Confession. It's his holy duty.

"Well, I had a curiosity, really. Since number one, I don't believe I've sinned in the traditional sense- I had a question in my mind in what the lord almighty might say about my soul...I'm on my devil's path. That's what I call it. And before I go down fully, embrace it, you tell me; how much potential is there for an absolvement?"  

Alastor really didn't want to know. In truth, he didn't give a single shit. But his visit with the Ursuline Sisters had sparked a strange memory in him; of a church in his old neighborhood, St. Augustine, which he used to attend with his parents, or rather was made to attend. Even now the smoky tang of incense made his throat hurt and feel dry, the walls closed in. It was the opposite of holy. 

"I would urge you to turn yourself in," the poor priest had begged him, "There is absolution in admittance of guilt. That's your first step. What you've done..." 

"What I've done is unforgivable," Alastor finished for him, "But what's more, my lady friend tried to trick me. 'I'm expecting,' she said, when she saw how angry I'd gotten, and Père, what's more is that I hate a liar and an abuser in tandem."

She really thought she had him there; what a dolt. And to lie to someone like Alastor, who was well-versed in body language and silent ticks, who also was attuned to the smell of blood, he'd known she had just gotten her menses. He wasn't stupid. He had quite purposely left her to languish in her own blood so as to teach her a lesson.

He was growing bored with the situation, however; Père's trembling had become irksome and he could feel that hint of boiling haze which had been unlocked yesterday come over him. Maybe it was the sight of an abused child, perhaps the screams of said youngling, and better yet, an as untold memory striking a chord with him as he handed the squalling thing over to the gentle Ursuline ladies at their orphanage. 

He wanted to act fast, and so when he withdrew his pocket knife and stabbed it through the grate, giggling inconsolably at the Père's terror, he crossed himself and gave a mocking bow toward the confessional booth as he left, saying, "And there's the end of it, really! Oh stop yelling. I'm not going to kill you." 

He'd gotten his answer; absolution was a constantly changing and fluid form conducted in an ouroboros, a snake, eating its own tail in an eternal cycle. Damn foolish of humanity to make up ways to be redeemed when there was no such thing.

[zuppizup]

Six Sentence Sunday - Purgatory

“Dear Rayla,

I’m not really sure this letter will get to you, but the Crow Lord actually came out me wondering why I had gone “so long” without sending something (is six days that long?!) and, well, it’s weird not writing to you so, who knows, maybe this letter will be waiting for you when you get home and be a weird little surprise.

Or maybe these weird bird arrow things find you wherever you are, and it will seek you out and I went those looooong six days without sending something for NOTHING!

I can’t wait to see you again and I know I’ve written that a million times already but each day that brings us seeing each other again closer and closer to actually happening only makes me more excited.

Ez keeps saying we write so much that we’ll have nothing to talk about when we see each other again, but I think he’s got jelly tarts on the brain because I know you’ll come up with the weirdest border hat shop four-hundred-year-old grandma-knitting pattern type story or something else to mess with me. That’s probably the most normal story you’d spin, actually.

I really, honestly can’t wait to see you, and I can image you saying, “well you have to, dummy!” which only makes me want to see you more.

Hoping to get back to up-dating Purgatory in October. The past few months have been super busy for me and season 5 brain rot had capture my imagination but working on getting back into my WIPs. 😊

[snoutbleed]

THE EARTH SPITS WHAT SHOULD BE RETURNED

A chapter story for LAID TO WASTE, an occult setting. Mature content ahead.

"Something is in the dirt...unfortunately, it's not my enemies."

My belated contribution for Halloween is this fic for a setting I write when I need a break from my WIP. Sadly, I couldn't finish this in time, but here's the first chapter—the rest will come periodically this month. Thank you for your continued support and patience.

Chapter I ❯ ✫ Chapter II ❯ THE RESPITE Chapter III ❯ THE MESSAGE Chapter IV ❯ Coming Soon Chapter V ❯ Coming Soon

I - THE SPRINT

(847 words)

Maddox excavated the secret he buried with the worms. His hand got caught in a strap and he shoveled a sigil-patterned pack out the trench. When he opened the zipper, a maroon light beamed memories into his eyes: he remembered wading into rivers in his youth and submerging his forearms until he felt the leeches sting. He always welcomed parasites—and protected them too.

For once, he asked himself why but pain wormed through his brain. Maddox cringed at the message from above—it beckoned certainty, so he shook off the ache with an approving nod. After that, he looked over his shoulder, hesitantly thanked his lord, then made haste into the wilderness. Turns out, he always lacked the headspace to backtrack. He threw fate to the trees.

Old pine towered over the hound. The leaves were shrouded in the night, and he couldn’t shake off the uncanny sensation that the woods were after him too. Behind him, rays of light danced in the forest. They were accompanied by shouting, growing louder in their chase.

There was no direction BUT forward. Maddox raced through the brush, pushing away shrubbery and branches with calloused hands. He winced through the stings. And his burning legs, too: his aching body screamed for him to stop running but he wouldn’t listen, for his heart thumped out of fear as well.

Personal choices were always posed as mistakes, such as the “mistake” of running. Such a personal choice he made many moons ago came back and inflicted a searing pain - burning, screeching sensations he could induce a fraction of by gliding his tongue across the scar tissue where four of his fangs once stood. The hound’s mouth was marred with his mistakes, but he lived to feel the residual aches. He couldn’t stop caressing the mottled gums, each stroke adding tension to his grimace. They were reminders of the life he got to continue living. In a way, the pain proved comforting. Memories of pliers and sigils erased any doubt that backtracking was a better option, and what the road offered were choices for him to make, no matter the cost.

The forbidden goods he fled with sealed the deal—his coffin as well. No amount of teeth could make up for biting, and then tearing off the hand that fed him. The only certainty was death, which made the void-like wilderness tempting to run into, but at least he didn’t wear a proverbial collar and leash. Every step his heart wheezed for wind was another breath for himself.

Now, the orders came from his mind: run, keep running.

If he could stand, he could walk, and if he could walk, he could run—that was his philosophy. It was enough to put distance between him and the light show. There was no room to think about the road beyond with the hunters on his tail taking up headspace. Maddox could worry about that after, but he’s no stranger to constructing nearsighted plans.

The burrowing headache lectured that choice was always in his hands. For every order he received to pull the trigger and hurt one of his own, there was a choice not to, even if it meant execution. Maddox knew the right escape route for when it was time to run from his choices. He didn’t know better than to avoid getting into his circumstance many years ago, however.

Divine punishment finally caught up with Maddox in the form of a root, which his foot proceeded to get caught on. He instinctively raised the pack to his chest and held onto it for dear life. He fell, then furled down a hill. The dog shielded the pack with his body and yelped on the way down. “Was it all for nothing?” his mind asked after crashing at the bottom of the ravine.

Maddox stopped moving just this once. Despite that, his heart raced faster than before—outpacing the distant shouts. His nails dug into the bag, blessing it with pleas as he carefully uncurled himself. On the ground, panting and pleading with shaky breath, he unzipped the pack and burrowed into fabrics. A soft light beamed at the end of the tunnel and highlighted the worry on his ghastly features.

At the end, there was a glass tube of orange liquid bearing sigils on its opaque ends. Its soft glow illuminated the first grin Maddox allowed in a lifetime as he gently unearthed the container, then bore witness to a fist-sized leech swimming in the substance. The hound stared fondly at the parasite like it was his baby. He smudged his finger on the glass and that little guy homed in on the opposite side.

The worm opened a mouth with several tiny teeth, proceeding to suck on the glass where flesh kissed. His smile grew but faded when the distant shouts gave orders to search in his direction. After a few more pecks, he let go and reburied the tube in the cushioned pack.

He recuperated, brushed nature off his coat, and continued his mad dash into the shadows. Safety in the unknown.

The leeches move onto their next meal in CHAPTER II...

[covenofthearticulate]

1 & 2 for the writer ask meme!

Writer's Ask Game

1. What is something you wish you could change about your most recent fic/chapter? I think the last self-contained thing I posted to AO3 was Crimson Incarnate. I don't know if I would change anything necessarily, but one day I'd love to go back and add more to give it more of a proper ending. When I was writing it, I was writing to get towards a very specific part (which is kind of obvious when you read it). Once I reached that part, I think I honestly just kinda ran out of steam, so the way I wrapped the piece up was rushed and sloppy because I was so ready to just post it. That tends to be the problem with 90% of my fics— by the time the end goal in sight, I just get so anxious to finish because I need instant gratification, so that's one skill I'm trying to work on!

2. Share a snippet of an old wip that you never posted. OH BOY i got like 3k words into this piece but had a hard time focusing on just one thread (the hard part about louis and armand and lestat is that their dynamics are all crazy complicated so it's easy for me to get overwhelmed easily) so eventually let it go. But fun fact!! after struggling with this piece, I was actually able to come back a month later and write Crimson Incarnate, so I guess you can think of this as like a prototype :)

“This is absurd.” It’s both a chuckle and a groan as Louis squeezes his eyes shut as if it’ll somehow make him disappear.

“What’s so absurd about it?” Armand asks with a genuine crease of concern between his brows.

“What’s absurd is that we’re still talking and not…oh, what was that saying Daniel brought up the other day? Something about guts.” Lestat rakes one hand low across Louis’ belly, delicately admiring said guts, warm and slightly plumped from whatever poor fool had stumbled across his dear Louis’ path earlier this evening.

“Rearranging his guts.” Armand offers with an arch of his brow.

“I’m going to get up right now if you don’t stop.”

“Just say the word and we’ll stop, Louis.” Lestat decides to call his bluff outright, and it pays off beautifully with a soft blush beginning to blossom across Louis’ cheeks. 

The problem, of course, is that Louis doesn’t want to stop. Quite the opposite, in fact. But saying that sort of thing in so many words is not something that comes naturally for him. It isn’t even about the power, though lord knows surrendering to Lestat and Armand may just be one of the most ill-conceived decisions of his life. It’s something about the humiliation of vocal admittance that doesn’t quite sit with him. 

Lestat and Armand have always been good at begging, at knowing what to say and how to say it, at investing in the drama of it all and indulging in the playful fantasy of seduction. But the words feel clunky in Louis’ mouth. Forced and awkward and much too pathetic to be considered seductive in any form or fashion. 

And so he keeps his mouth shut, swallows the indignities until his throat burns with the unvoiced yearning and he sits still, vulnerable, trapped between the only two souls on this earth that hold the key to his undoing. 

“Let him protest, he needs to get it out of his system. Plausible deniability, and all that.” Armand smirks as he readjusts his weight in Louis’ lap, and it’s…humiliating, actually, being caught out of his little game before they’ve even really begun.

Louis moves to cover the unmistakable rush of blood pooling in his cheeks, but Armand catches his wrist, holds it just tight enough for Louis to remember the frightening strength beneath his fingertips, then gently folds it back down, pinning his hand to the mattress. Loving and merciless, all at once.

“Oh, enough with the hollow objections! You’re outnumbered, anyway. If anyone asks, you can tell them we held you down and ripped your bodice like a bunch of lustful brutes.” 

Louis can feel the hearty vibrations against his back, the way Lestat’s chest puffs when he gets impatient.

He tries to grumble something like “That isn’t funny, Lestat.” But it’s hard get the words from his brain to his mouth with Lestat’s breath on his shoulder and Armand’s hand on his chest.

“If it’s the guilt troubling you," Armand draws lazy circles with his nail, traces up and down the delicate slope of Louis' collarbone. "I’m happy to provide apt punishment.”

[jayfeather323]

🧙‍♂️🪄✨✨✨ You’ve been visited by the Wip Wizard! If you feel comfortable, gush a little about the three wips you’re most excited to work on! Then send this to another inbox to keep the magic going!

Hi anon! I love sharing what I’m working on, it gives me some accountability lol.

1. Starving, Darling

This is a Rhys/Cassian/Azriel crackfic set when the batboys are still in Windhaven. This is such an indulgent fic for me and I love their dynamic so so much. The premise is basically that our dear Azriel is touch-starved and struggles with physical affection. Cass and Rhys are all too eager to help him out with this! I have a lot done for this but I’m trying to focus on finishing For Three Months, so aside from the little excerpt of it I posted, It won’t be posted for a little while.

2. For Three Months

For Three Months is a Feysand fic from Rhys’ pov set during the three months after they return from under the mountain and before he calls in the bargain. I thought it would be really interesting to see the dynamics between the Inner Circle after Rhys returns and the trauma and emotional turmoil Rhys is facing during that time. It’s pretty angsty as our favorite High Lord is dealing with a lot of self-doubt, regret, ptsd, and being separated from his mate whom he thinks hates him, and all the while he can feel her suffering through the bond. I have 4/5 chapters posted and the last one should be out by the end of this week! Poor Rhysie is losing his shit over Feyre’s engagement.

3. Fanart for The Other Side of the Apocolypse by TheLonelyBarricade and Separatist_Apologist

This is a watercolor painting based on this quote from the fic: “Poised every inch like a huntress of old, with her steady hands and fearless heart. She was the very thing they used to make religions about.” This one has taken me a very long time because I had to do a lot of research on bows, bow hunting, shooting, etc, and good reference images turned out to be rather hard to find and I ended up with around 2 dozen sketches before I even put it on watercolor paper. Then I ended up trashing the first version. On the bright side, version 2.0 I’m liking a lot more and is about half way finished. I’m a huge perfectionist when it comes to my art, and I’ve had a busy summer, but I’m really excited to post it as soon as I can!

[https-maxine-stuff]

“The star-crossed lovers.” (Originally posted on Wattpad! Still a wip there.)

Cast! Pt. 1

·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Astrid Evergreen

Face claim: Jenna Ortega

Backstory: born on February 22nd 1977 to two purebloods was Astrid Evergreen the heir of the Evergreen name. Her family was known for its Slytherin heritage, plus seer abilities and upholding traditional wizard values. On her 10th birthday she was given her letter she was excited to learn magic at the prestigious school of Hogwarts. Her mother took her to Ollivander's wand shop, it was an English Oak wood, it had a unicorn core and was 10 and half inches long with a slight curve. When she was dropped off at platform 9 3/4 she met Cedric, the two talked about their hobbies and became friends instantly. They rode the train together and stood in line together. She expected to be sorted into Slytherin but the hat had other plans.

"Slytherin? No no my dear you are nothing of the sort." She felt her body tense.

"What do you mean..?"

"Why my dear, you are a HUFFLEPUFF." Her eyes widened as her breath hitched. Hufflepuff? Hufflepuff??!? She stood up her robes changing as she walked numbly to Hufflepuff, she felt ashamed to say the least. She could recall her mothers letter and her screams as a punishment for being in Hufflepuff her parents had her given a secluded room away from other students.

Her brother Oliver was born a few years later.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Cedric Diggory

Backstory: Cedric Diggory (September/October 1977–24 June 1995) was a British wizard who was the son of Amos Diggory and his unnamed wife. He started attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in 1989, and was sorted into the Hufflepuff House. (I stole this from the wiki 🫶🫶 I wasn't about to create a whole new background for these kids 💀)

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Harry Potter

Harry James Potter (b. 31 July 1980)[1] was an English half-blood wizard, and one of the most famous wizards of modern times. The only child and son of James and Lily Potter (née Evans), Harry's birth was overshadowed by a prophecy, naming either himself or Neville Longbottom as the one with the power to vanquish Lord Voldemort, the most powerful and feared Dark Wizard in the world. After half of the prophecy was reported to Voldemort, courtesy of Severus Snape, Harry was chosen as the target due to his many similarities with the Dark Lord. In turn, this caused the Potter family to go into hiding.

Voldemort made his first attempt to circumvent the prophecy when Harry was a year and three months old. During this attempt, he murdered Harry's parents as they tried to protect him, but this unsuccessful attempt to kill Harry led to Voldemort's first downfall. This downfall marked the end of the First Wizarding War, and to Harry henceforth being known as "The Boy Who Lived",[5] as he was the only known survivor of the Killing Curse due to being magically protected by his mother's loving sacrifice. In accordance with the terms of the prophecy, this attempt on his life also established him, not Neville, as Voldemort's nemesis.

One consequence of Lily's sacrifice was that her orphaned son had to be raised by her only remaining blood relative, his Muggle aunt Petunia Dursley, and her husband, uncle Vernon Dursley. While in their care, he would be protected from Lord Voldemort due to the Bond of Blood charm that Albus Dumbledore placed upon him.[59] This powerful charm would protect him until he either came of age, or no longer called his aunt's house home. Due to Petunia's resentment of her sister and her magical abilities, Harry grew up abused and neglected.

Shortly before Harry's eleventh birthday, there were several attempts from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry to send him a letter inviting him to not only come to Hogwarts, but also to explain his magical heritage.

(Every canon character's background is coming from the damn wiki)

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Ron Weasley

Ronald Bilius "Ron" Weasley (b. 1 March 1980) was an English pure-blood wizard, the sixth and youngest son of Arthur and Molly Weasley (née Prewett). He was also the younger brother of Bill, Charlie, Percy, Fred, George, and the elder brother of Ginny. Ron and his siblings lived at the The Burrow, on the outskirts of Ottery St Catchpole, Devon.

Ron began attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in 1991 and was Sorted into Gryffindor House. He soon became close friends with fellow student Harry Potter and later Hermione Granger. Together, they made the Golden trio and faced many challenges during their adolescence, including keeping the Philosopher's Stone from Professor Quirinus Quirrell, rescuing Ginny from the Basilisk of the Chamber of Secrets, saving Harry's godfather Sirius Black from the Dementors of Azkaban. (Purr)

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Hermione Granger

Hermione Jean Granger (b. 19 September 1979) was an English Muggle-born[3] witch born to Mr and Mrs Granger. At the age of eleven, she learned about her magical nature and was accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Hermione began attending Hogwarts in 1991 and was Sorted into Gryffindor House. She possessed a brilliant academic mind and proved to be a gifted student in almost every subject that she studied, to the point where she was nearly made a Ravenclaw by the Sorting Hat.

Hermione first met her future best friends Harry Potter and Ron Weasley aboard the Hogwarts Express, and initially they found her unfriendly and somewhat of an "insufferable know-it-all", an impression reinforced by her constant correct answers and eagerness to please the professors. However, she stepped in to take the blame from the boys after they had saved her from a troll on Hallowe'en in 1991, surprising them in a grateful way, which led to them quickly becoming friends. She later played a crucial role in protecting the Philosopher's Stone from Voldemort.

In her second year, Hermione had a key role in the discovery of the Chamber of Secrets, before falling victim to the Basilisk unleashed upon Hogwarts following the opening of the Chamber. However, she recovered from the petrification under the care of Madam Pomfrey with Professor Sprout's Mandrake Restorative Draught. The next year, Hermione was granted permission to use a Time-Turner from the Ministry of Magic to facilitate her volition to study far more subjects than were possible without time travel, though she and Harry later used it to rescue Sirius Black from the Dementor's Kiss and Buckbeak the hippogriff from execution. (She's so me)

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Fluer Delacour

Fleur Isabelle Delacour (b. c. 1976-1977) was a French quarter-Veela witch, one of the daughters of Apolline Delacour and her husband, the other daughter being the younger Gabrielle. Fleur attended Beauxbatons Academy of Magic. During the 1994–1995 school year, she was Beauxbatons' champion in the Triwizard Tournament.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Cho Chang

Cho Chang (b. 1978/1979) was a witch who attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry from 1990-1997 and was sorted into Ravenclaw House. She was a Seeker for the Ravenclaw Quidditch team and a popular student. She was also one year ahead of the famous Harry Potter.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Viktor Krum (I spelt his name WRONG)

Viktor Krum (Bulgarian: Виктор Крум; born April-August, 1976) was a Bulgarian wizard. He attended the Durmstrang Institute, and was also the Seeker for the Bulgarian National Quidditch team at the age of eighteen while still at school.

In 1994, he played in the final of the Quidditch World Cup. The Irish won the match, but Viktor caught the Golden Snitch to end the match on his terms. Later in the year, he was part of the Durmstrang delegation sent to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for the Triwizard Tournament. Subsequently, he was selected by the Goblet of Fire as the Durmstrang Champion, and competed bravely.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Draco Malfoy

Draco Lucius[11] Malfoy (b. 5 June 1980) was a British pure-blood wizard and the only son of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy (née Black). The son of a Death Eater, Draco was raised to strongly believe in the importance of blood purity. He looked down on half-bloods and Muggle-borns.

Draco attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry from 1991-1998. He was sorted into Slytherin House the moment the Sorting Hat touched his head. During his years at Hogwarts, he became friends with Vincent Crabbe, Gregory Goyle, Pansy Parkinson, and other fellow Slytherins, but he quickly developed a rivalry with Harry Potter.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ Alejo Belmonte

Faceclaim: Oscar Isaac

No backstory suffer in silence all you have to know is he's a Muggleborn who's from Buaxbatons.

[gffa]

Last time I went about five months between doing a set of STAR WARS fic recs, this time it’s only been three months! Hurrah! It helps that, as always, this fandom puts out an incredible amount of excellent fic, so I feel like I’m never hurting for fics I want to yell about and shove at people, which is something I continue to appreciate as it often feels like so much of the world is such a huge tire fire. It helps to be able to find fics to retreat into, to have fun with, to express joy and creativity with, and so many of the authors in this fandom are just so good at this! To the point that these sets sometimes take awhile because there are always more fics I want to add, until the post starts threatening to be overly long instead of a decent length–in my defense, no seriously, you guys are just too good! Also, I forced myself to stop at 69 fic recs, because yes I do think it’s funny. (Nice.) STAR WARS FIC RECS: PREQUELS RECS: ✦ a comedy in four acts by jesuisdeux, obi-wan & dooku & yoda & qui-gon & cast, time travel, 4k    This was what time-travel is: staring at the dark sockets of skulls everywhere your gaze lands on. Being haunted by ghosts long gone. The apprehension of the slow yet sure approach of the inevitable which is sending chills down your spine. ✦ No Rest for the Weary by Peach_Bitters (peachybitters), obi-wan & anakin & jedi & ocs, 61k    Needing a break from life at the Jedi Temple, Obi-Wan Kenobi and his apprentice, Anakin Skywalker, visit a Jedi AgriCorps settlement on the Midrim planet of Helia. There they encounter new friends, new enemies and have new adventures, all while attempting to navigate their sometimes turbulent relationship as Master and Padawan. ✦ Stars of Tatooine by Be_Right_Back, ahsoka & kanan & mace & rex & obi-wan & cast, 10.5k    After the end of the world, Ahsoka more or less kidnaps a child, has to air some old grievances, and tries to find whatever peace the universe can still offer. All paths in the Force lead home, eventually. ✦ Festival of Light by dendral, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & rex & cast, 8.7k    During his first year at the Jedi Temple, Anakin learns that even the Jedi celebrate holidays. ✦ the master, the padawan, the Force by skatzaa, depa & caleb, 1.4k    Caleb expects things to be different after Master Depa takes him as her padawan, but really, it feels like nothing really changes. ✦ desecrate my lungs by loosingletters, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & padme & cast, 16k wip    Time-travel fix-it in which Mustafar haunts Anakin decades after it happened and years before it would. ✦ Grace by dismantlingsummer, obi-wan & anakin, 2.3k    Shortly after Mustafar, Anakin realizes what he has done. He finds Obi-Wan to beg for death. ✦ Fifth Migration by wrennette, yoda & mace & obi-wan & ki-adi & yarael & coleman & plo & palpatine & cast, 2k    How about an AU where the Sith’s Grand Plan accounted for everything -everything that is, except the fact that the Jedi temple is actually an very ancient spacecraft and the second word got to the Jedi about there being clones on Kamino, all Jedi are called back inside and they take off immediately? Just imagine the dear chancellor’s face… ✦ fill pages with scribbled ink by magneticwave, obi-wan/padme & sabe & mace & quinlan & cast, 9.8k    A year after the Invasion of Naboo, Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi is invited by Queen Amidala to return to Naboo and participate in a rite known as the Night of Fireflies. Things kind of snowball from there. ✦ Mind Your Words by Peach_Bitters (peachybitters), obi-wan & anakin, spanking, 7k    Obi-Wan reminds Anakin that there are consequences for careless behavior for young Jedi on missions. ✦ (you taught me) the courage of stars by grumpyhedgehogs, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka & cast, 5.1k wip    Ahsoka Tano flees after a warrant for her arrest is issued, but not before receiving aid from an unexpected ally. (Ahsoka proceeds to go on a road trip filled with a bunch of strangers who all say the same thing: Obi-Wan Kenobi is much more than he has ever appeared to be.) ✦ they faked it (guess everything’s complicated) by katierosefun, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka, 4.5k    Ahsoka temporarily loses memories of the events of Obi-Wan’s fake death. To help with the healing process, Anakin and Obi-Wan have to pretend that they’re okay. ✦ programed to dream by ghostwriterofthemachine, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka, body horror, 1.3k    The spaceship Comet-rider is the fastest, most efficient vessel in the galaxy, and is crewed by Separatist-funded pirates. Anakin Skywalker is missing. Unfortunately, these two things are connected. ✦ Unpleasant Truths by hellowkatey, obi-wan & anakin, 2.1k    Obi-Wan and Anakin are stuck in a room with one another while waiting for truth serum to wear off. ✦ moment’s silence by skatzaa, obi-wan & owen & beru & luke & leia (pre-obi-wan/beru-owen), 2k    Owen had long since resigned himself to trouble, whenever Beru got that particularly stubborn set to her jaw. ✦ hold gently and let go by shatou, obi-wan & anakin (pre-slash?), 1.7k    A troubled Anakin comes to Obi-Wan to discuss attachments. ✦ sun child by Ro29, obi-wan & anakin, 2.1k    (or; sometimes being so tied to the Force causes problems, Obi-Wan helps his Padawan as best he can) ✦ A Dinner Out by Peach_Bitters (peachybitters), obi-wan & anakin & cast, 1.6k    Obi-Wan can’t get his young Padawan to eat much, so he tries something new. But trying something different has unintended consequences. ✦ Shades in the Desert by loosingletters, obi-wan & anakin & luke & owen/beru, 10.8k    Not even from a certain point of view did Darth Vader kill Anakin Skywalker. He wished he did, but the specter of the Jedi’s light escaped before he could finalize his fall to the dark. Meanwhile, Anakin is raising his son on Tatooine. ✦ somewhere along in the bitterness by CallToMuster, obi-wan & anakin, major character death, 3.8k    It was probably the twelfth day floating alone in space that Obi-Wan and Anakin realized no one was coming for them. ✦ Songs for Little Jedi by soft_but_gremlin, mace & younglings, ~1k    The initiates are having nightmares, so Mace sings a lullaby to comfort them. ✦ atmosphere level by softredscrunchie, obi-wan/satine & qui-gon, 1k    As a joke, Satine tells Obi-Wan she thinks Mandalore is flat. He doesn’t take it well. ✦ on sith holocrons and misunderstandings by billowypants, obi-wan & anakin & mace & yoda & cast, de-aged!obi-wan, 7.2k    or, de-aged!Obi-Wan has the same Force bonds as adult Obi-Wan, and he does not react well. ✦ Perseverance & Resilience by loosingletters, obi-wan & anakin, 1.1k    In the aftermath of Naboo, Obi-Wan realizes he needs strength to protect his new Padawan. Growing up, Anakin needs peace. ✦ A Delicate Balance by Peach_Bitters (peachybitters), obi-wan & anakin & yoda & jedi, spanking, 9.6k    As Anakin’s skills grow, so too does his penchant for getting into trouble. After a training mishap, Obi-Wan struggles with his role as Anakin’s master. ✦ mirror, mirror by CallToMuster, obi-wan & anakin, 5.4k    Obi-Wan has been rescued by Anakin after being rather embarrassingly kidnapped on the remote planet of Ilnuria during his investigation of rumored kyber crystals deep beneath the planet’s surface. …But is all as it seems? ✦ Mace Windu Appreciation Week by Redminibike1, mace & obi-wan & anakin & ponds & cody & jedi & cast, 12.5k    Set of unconnected ficlets for Mace Windu Appreciation Week, because he deserves it :) ✦ begin again as a quiet thought by skatzaa, obi-wan/quinlan, d/s, ~1k    Cool, smooth leather touched his jaw—gloves. Because of course Obi-Wan had thought of that as well. ✦ Drunken Lullabies by Siri_Kenobi12, obi-wan & anakin & siri & quinlan & aayla & garen & bant & ferus, 6.5k    “Do I really have to go to this thing?” Fourteen year old Anakin Skywalker dramatically sighed. “It’s sooo boring!” ✦ heaven knows how I love you by the_13th_battalion, obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka, 1.2k    Anakin, Obi-Wan, and Ahsoka are stranded on an unfamiliar planet overnight. They spend their time exploring the community- and maybe they get a little closer to each other along the way. ✦ A Reckless Padawan by Peach_Bitters (peachybitters), obi-wan & anakin & ahsoka, spanking, 3.9k    When Ahsoka upsets Anakin with an act of reckless disobedience, it falls to her grandmaster to help her see the error of her ways. OBI-WAN/ANAKIN RECS: ✦ Too Hot by secretsolarsystem, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 4.8k    Too Hot: A game where two players kiss without stopping and without touching each other. If one player touches the other, that player loses. The winner gets to do whatever they want to the loser. ✦ Nostos by intermundia, obi-wan/anakin & padme, NSFW, 17k    Or, how Obi-Wan and Anakin discover that there are many ways to come home. ✦ to touch the light, darkest by treescape, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 1.9k    Obi-Wan begins to fuck Vader back to the light ✦ encode by loosingletters, obi-wan/anakin & padme & handmaidens & cast, 26.3k wip    Instead of being accepted into the Jedi Order at the age of 9, Anakin Skywalker became a ward of Naboo. ✦ Hunting the Homeward Light by GreenQueenofClubs, obi-wan/anakin & mace & ahsoka & shmi & padme & cast, 31.9k wip    When Anakin Skywalker was nine, he left his whole life and mother behind to follow Qui-Gon Jinn to Coruscant and the Jedi Temple. When Anakin Skywalker was twelve, he left his whole life and Master behind to follow Mace Windu to the Outer Rim and away from the Jedi Order. When Anakin Skywalker was twenty… ✦ use my body to break your fall by tennessoui, obi-wan/anakin & cast, NSFW, sith!obi-wan, 44.7k wip    Obi-Wan Kenobi is too good at being a Sith Lord general of the Separatist army. The Jedi Council approaches Anakin with an offer he can’t refuse. These things are, actually, related. ✦ Over and Over by obiwanobi, obi-wan/anakin, 1.4k    “I love you,” he blurts out, loud and impossible to miss. Obi-Wan blinks once, twice. And freezes. The first time Anakin tells him is a mortifying experience. ✦ Exceptions by rinverse, obi-wan/anakin & ahsoka & mace & quinlan & cast, NSFW, modern au, 23.4k    Young and brilliant, Anakin is the mind behind JEDI Tech’s latest innovation. Obi-Wan is the company’s perfectly composed Director of PR & Marketing. And last night, they were just two strangers at a bar, looking for something quick and easy. But life had other plans when it crossed their paths again the very next day. ✦ Here There Be Dragons by Ghost_Owl, obi-wan/anakin & ahsoka, 10.1k    Anakin knows why he can’t shift into his animal form like every other Jedi. It’s because he doesn’t want to, it’s because he’s had a vision of what he would become, and he doesn’t want it. ✦ Waiting in a Sea of Stars by Peach_Bitters (peachybitters), obi-wan/anakin, ~1k    Stranded in deep space, Obi-Wan and Anakin wait for rescue. ✦ Tristitia by JSwander, obi-wan/anakin & cast, NSFW, sith!obi-wan, 5k    An alternate timeline where Palpatine focuses his attentions on Obi-Wan Kenobi instead of Anakin Skywalker after the attack on Naboo. ✦ Prompted - Chapter 11: Communication, What Communication? by intermundia, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, modern au, mobster au, 7k    a 7k obikin PWP that is somehow a prompt mashup of a mobster au, an accidental sugar daddy au, with a soupçon of an anakin never left tatooine au, and a pinch of qui-gon was anakin’s dad au ✦ who a person truly is cannot be seen with the eye by RexIsMyCopilot, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, d/s, spanking, 3.6k    Anakin purposely avoids doing what Obi-Wan tells him to do. ✦ Prompted - Chapter 12: Potidaea, 432BC, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, historical au, 4.3k    Here is a short smutty scene inspired by all those classics asks, Alcibiades praising Socrates in Plato’s Symposium, and this vase c.490-480 B.C. depicting standing, face-to-face intercrural intercourse between a bearded man and a youth, which as far as we can tell was the most common and accepted position for it in Ancient Greece. ✦ Prompted - Chapter 13: Minikin and Tiny-Wan by intermundia, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 5.4k    Happy May the Fourth! In honor of this happy day, I have written the fluffiest, crackiest, vanilla-flavored smut imaginable. Based on long discussions on discord with tomicaleto about her adorable Tiny AU. ✦ to hold until brightness by treescape, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 1.4k    Obi-Wan feared that it drew out the darkest in him, to bring Vader to these flashes of light, but it was a trade he would make again and again without hesitation. ✦ May Be Found, If Sought by ghostwriterofthemachine, obi-wan/anakin & mace & quinlan, magical academy au, 2.3k    In which Quinlan, Mace, and Obi-Wan teach Non-Traditional Magical Philosophy in an institution rampant with academic snobbery and discrimination, something dark is stirring in the nearby forest, and no one is ever prepared for Anakin Skywalker. A small story about first meetings in magical academia. ✦ infinitely varied by loosingletters, obi-wan/anakin & ahsoka, modern au, 2.2k    Also known as Obi-Wan and Anakin teach a tiny program called A.H.S.O.K.A. how to be something more than lines of code via the power of linguistics. ✦ recipe for disaster by tennessoui, obi-wan/anakin & ahsoka, modern au, 9.8k    When Ahsoka tells Anakin she doesn’t want to learn piano anymore, Anakin is heartbroken. He doesn’t care about the instrument, obviously, but he’s practically in love with her teacher. Obi-Wan offers up a solution to their impending separation, and it’s not dating like any normal person would suggest. Instead, he’s gonna teach Anakin how to cook. Except Anakin’s a pretty well-known chef, and Obi-Wan is absolutely awful in the kitchen. ✦ Pretty Kitty by GayCheerios, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 2.2k    “Master, you always take such good care of me,” Anakin says, a little chirp coming after his sentence, as his thumb rests on Anakin’s plump bottom lip. ✦ As One, Into Eternity by Pseudonymoose, obi-wan/anakin, force ghosts, 3.1k    Death comes, but the man who was, and is, and will be Anakin Skywalker is not gone. And in the Force, he will never be alone again. ✦ does he make you laugh? by y0u_idjits, obi-wan/anakin & ahsoka & cast, fusion fic, 3.6k    “Tell me it’s not about screwing the guy who’s screwing your husband.” ✦ Rotten Work by secretsolarsystem, obi-wan/anakin, 2.8k    Obi-Wan: I’ll take care of you. Anakin, with bloodshot eyes and a broken back from hours of terrible posture: It’s rotten work. Obi-Wan, who needs to bathe this man for his own sanity and health: Not to me. Not if it’s you. ✦ afterimages by shatou, obi-wan/anakin, 1.3k    Mustafar is nothing but a bad dream. ✦ understanding is honoring the truth beneath the surface by RexIsMyCopilot, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, d/s, 7.3k    Anakin asks Obi-Wan to take control. ✦ The strongest stars… by Tomicaleto, obi-wan/anakin & beru & cast, NSFW, 7.4k    The war’s end seems to be close, with everyone looking forward to it. And when Anakin is doubting himself the most, an unexpected visit arrives at the Temple. ✦ home has a heartbeat by izazov, obi-wan/anakin, 5.6k    Or: Anakin and Obi-Wan are together, but there are still some things left unsaid between them. ✦ turn back now (i’m haunted) by tennessoui, obi-wan/anakin & padme & quinlan & ahsoka & cast, modern au, ghosts au, 25k wip    Anakin Skywalker’s house is haunted. Luckily for him, Padmé knows a ghost hunter. Unluckily for him, it’s the hottest, most english-professor ghost hunter he’s ever seen. And extremely unluckily for him, he’s starting to get the feeling he understands maybe ten percent of what’s actually going on here, not to mention what’s at stake. ✦ game plan by treescape, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 11.2k    Or, Vader keeps capturing Obi-Wan during the Wars. Obi-Wan keeps escaping. It’s kind of a thing. ✦ Provocation by ToolMusicLover, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 4.9k    Or: Obi-Wan and Anakin attempt to navigate their complicated relationship with barbed words and wilful ignorance. It wasn’t going well. ✦ Languages by Crowgirl, obi-wan/anakin, NSFW, 6.5k    So Anakin pulls out a map and makes a list. REBELS RECS: ✦ The Scent of You by ambiguously, kanan/hera & cast, a smidge of nsfw, 2.9k    Everything changes after Malachor, and Kanan has trouble finding his balance. ✦ Heard It in a Love Song (Can’t Be Wrong) by ambiguously, zeb/kallus, 2.7k    Kallus can’t quite figure out what makes Zeb tick, but he keeps trying. ORIGINAL TRILOGY/MANDALORIAN RECS: ✦ A Discussion of Choices by Peppermint_Shamrock, luke & mace, 2k    Mace Windu has traveled the galaxy since the fall of the Republic, keeping out of the Empire’s sight and teaching where he can. Upon the request of a ghost of an old friend, Mace finds himself instructing Luke Skywalker, who is still reeling from the truth of Vader’s identity. ✦ staring down the barrel of the hot sun by magneticwave, luke/din & obi-wan & grogu & mace & cast, 25.7k    “Gone to a Child of the Watch, the Darksaber has,” Grand Master Yoda announces in his creaky little voice. “Peace, there is not, and yet peace, there must be.” ✦ Released by Peppermint_Shamrock, cody & rex & luke & cast, 6k    Nearly two and a half decades late, Cody’s chip is finally removed. Adjusting to having his mind returned to him after so long takes time, and Cody struggles with questions of his purpose of the past, present, and future. Fortunately, he does not have to struggle alone. ✦ A Tatooine Rainstorm by skatzaa, leia & luke & shmi, 1.7k    Leia meets a ghost. ✦ Dealing with the Darksaber by Peppermint_Shamrock, din & bo-katan & cara, 1.3k    After her recovery, Bo-Katan contacts Din to challenge him for the darksaber. Din is still very much not interested in the whole affair. FULL DETAILS + RECS HERE

[annabethisterrified]

Not a conventional friends to lovers but I followed a blog in 2013 and some anon was harassing him so I sent an ask myself to make sure they were OK.

We ended up messaging back and forth every day after that and sharing memes and discovered we lived 250 miles from each other.

In 2014 we joked that we understood each other like an old married couple and if not for the distance and the fact we were never single at the same time we probably would have been together but we were so happy being friends it was OK.

In 2015 I had a really bad breakup and he supported me, then a month later said "no pressure but I cant help but notice we're both finally single. Want to give this a go?" I said yes and he revealed he'd already booked train tickets to visit me the following month but had been prepared to cancel if I wasn't interested.

2 weeks later I was so excited and impatient I beat him to the punch and bought my own train ticket to see him first.

It was a complete cliche of falling in love the second we locked eyes on the train platform and ran into each other's arms.

There was never any awkwardness even at the start, we just instantly acted like we'd always been together and in love.

It's been 7 years and we're engaged and have lived together for 6 years and have a dog and are still so happy

OMG a tumblr romance i love it!! and the train platform meeting is so sweet holy shit!!! glad that it was a seamless transition for you both and congrats on your engagement!

Thanks for sharing! this is helpful for sure with wip stuff because it's very much a "dear lord she hasn't been single in YEARS so she's obviously unavailable" until she's not haha.

[buckys-other-punk]

What the Hell is The Catch?

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: Steve and Y/N are forced by their friends to go out speed dating. Little did they know they would find their perfect match.

Warnings: alcohol, fluff, teasing and cussing

Word Count: 2.6K

A/N: HI I’m back!! First off, sorry @stuckonjbbarnes that this was late, I wanted to write this on time before the due date but my classes were literally beating my ass (BUT I did actually get inspiration for this fic idea by my stupid interpersonal relationships class so i guess that’s a win?) Anyways thank you for letting me join your writing challenge and ILY.  Second, hello again! Hopefully my writing is still worth reading lol, since I have free time I will try to write more and hopefully complete my WIPs. As always, please ignore my minor mistakes (i’m lazy to edit) and lemme know what you think of this fic!

Bucky and Sam had somehow convinced Steve to go on a speed dating event at a nearby bar. Steve wasn’t really in the mood to go out and mingle with horny women. All Steve wanted that night was to relax in bed and watch a movie about this group of people who dream hop (a/n: aka Inception lol i couldn’t think of an easier way to describe this movie). Steve sat on his bed ready to watch the movie then his friends bombarded his space about how lonely he is. As much as Steve wanted to brush the two off they annoyed him so much that he caved in. Now Steve was sitting at some bar with a pen and questionnaire in his hand.

Natasha and Wanda had somehow forced you to go on a speed dating event at your guys’ favorite bar. You, having no choice, rummaged through your closet looking for a good outfit. ‘At least I’ll be getting free drinks.’ saying to yourself. You picked out a black dress that has lace sleeves which accentuates your curves. Nat and Wanda of course approved the dress immediately, they gave you your red clutch and shoved you out the door.

You huffed as you got out of your cab staring at the bar dreading to ‘mingle’ with men. Walking into the bar a couple greeted you with obnoxious smiles.

“Hello! Welcome to our single’s speed dating night.” the woman said, handing you a name tag. You took note of her flashy diamond ring. You returned the smile and wrote a random name on the name tag. “Is this your first time, Twyla?” 

“Hmm?” you looked confused, then remembered your fake name. “Oh, Twyla! Me, I’m Twyla. Yes. sorry.” you replied.

“No need to be nervous dear.” the man next to her said. “We’re all here to have fun right?” he said with a smile looking around the area.

God, you hated being here already.”You two seem lovey-dovey. Did you two meet in one of these things?” you asked looking at the pair.

“Yes we did actually!” she said with a smile looking up at her man. “And just a few months later he proposed.” she added looking at her ring. You smiled then looked at the man, he looked behind you and quickly went back to his fiance. You turned slightly to “take in the area” and saw a woman with a flirtatious smile towards the man. 

Rolling your eyes and glancing back at the couple. You just wanted to get some free drinks and go back home. “Are the drinks free?” you asked the couple. 

“Yes, but-” the lady started to say but you waved her off grabbing the questionnaire on the table.

“That's all I need to hear. Thank you.” you said walking away from the pair and towards the bartender. “Hey, can I get a old fashioned please?” you asked the bartender who nodded and proceeded to make you drink. You scouted the area like you would on a mission and nobody was really peaking your interest. There was a woman who seemed right up your alley, but you had a feeling she wouldn’t swing your way. Sighing, you turned back to the bartender who handed you your drink. Taking a sip and pulling out your phone from your clutch you began texting the girls about how sad this event is and that you were ready to walk out.

“Can I have everyone’s attention please?” the lady from earlier said through the microphone in her hand. As you looked up from your phone you saw her fiance standing next to her with his own mic in his hand. His other hand holding the woman’s hand as he eyed a woman near him. 

‘Dear lord. He’s going to cheat on this poor woman.’ you said to yourself. You downed your drink and signaled the bartender for another one.

“We are going to ask the guys to pick a table with a number on it and stay there. Ladies please go to the table closest to you and begin talking with your partner. Once you guys hear this bell.” the lady’s boyfriend rang lightly. “You can move onto the next table going counter clockwise.” she added with a giddy smile.

“Alright love birds. Let’s get this thing started.” the man said to the crowd. You grabbed your drink and headed to the table closest to you. You saw the man who was seated at the table, on his phone not really caring about the event. He was wearing a leather jacket and dark shades. ‘This dude is a douche.’ you thought to yourself, downing your second drink as you stood across from him.

“So, you come here often?” he says not looking up from his phone.

“Oh god, no.” you replied with a fake southern accent. “I just came because my boyfriend turned into a mountain lion and tried to kill me.” you said politely looking at the man.

“Oh that’s nice.” he said but then realized what you said. “I’m sorry…” he began as he pushed his sunglasses a bit down to read your name tag. “Twyla? Did you say he turned into a mountain lion?” he looked at you concerned.

“OH, yes!” you said ever so sweetly. “You see, Caleb wanted me to join his cult and I refused. He got so angry that his eyes began to turn yellow and he started clawing at his face with his hands. Just when he finished turning into a mountain lion, the high priestess of his cult commanded him to capture me to be their sacrifice for their next meal.” you said with a straight face, looking dead into the man’s wide eyes. His mouth was hanging open, speechless. Just when he was about to ask you another question you both heard the bell. The man sighed in relief downing his drink as you waved goodbye to him and chuckled as you walked to the next table.

____________________________________

Steve was staring at his drink as a woman walked up to him. He noticed that this was the woman who was eying up the man who hosted the event. Steve smiled at the woman anyways as he introduced herself. He looked down at his questionnaire trying to figure out what to ask the lady. The woman who talked to him earlier just wanted a rebound and the woman before that didn’t even say anything to him.

“So, I noticed that you don’t really have any interest in being here.” he said kindly, looking at the woman.

“Yeah, I just did this so I can get my boyfriend’s attention.” she replied looking back at the male host.

“Your boyfriend seems to be a bit occupied.” Steve said as glanced at the man and back to the woman in front of him. “Are you sure he’s worth it sweetheart? I mean I don’t know your situation with him right now, but it seems that if he’s with that woman you’re not his main priority.” he added looking at the lady in remorse.

She looked up at Steve and pondered to herself. “You know, I think you’re right. I mean I’m practically his side chick when I want to be his main chick.” she said to Steve. “Thank you for making me realize that he’s not worth it and I should get my priorities straight, Steve. I’m sorry to leave you here alone, but I hope you find someone who deserves your kindness.” she said kindly, patting Steve's hand as she began to exit the bar.

__________________________________

You noticed the woman who the male host was staring at earlier left the bar. ‘Good for her. Realizing that man ain’t shit.’ you said to yourself as you downed your third old-fashioned. You wanted to change things up..so you ordered a long island iced tea. The man who was sitting in front of you was going off about his sex fantasies and how he was looking for the right woman to please him. The previous man you only talked about work and was completely monotone.

You were completely ignoring whatever he was saying and waited for your drink and the damn bell to ring. A waitress brought your drink over and you looked around the bar as the strange sex crazed man kept going off about his fantasies. Finishing your drink in one go, since you weren’t drunk enough for this, your prayers were finally answered as you saw the lady host ring the bell. She seemed to be looking for her fiancé who left the bar to run after the woman, but she didn’t know that. 

“Let’s make this next session a few minutes longer.” she said with a brief smile as she began to look for her fiancé. ‘Oh sweetie.’ you said to yourself feeling extra sorry for the woman. You grabbed a glass of champagne from a waiter that was walking around the bar and sipped the drink as you walked to the next table.

While walking over to the next table not really paying attention to the man seated there, you were thinking of another crazy lie to tell the poor soul. Maybe lie about how you believe that an alien had taken over your body this very night and that the alien was looking for someone to bring back to their home planet. Or maybe that you believe that the world will be destroyed in exactly 24 hours from now and that the only way to save it is to kill a man who was at this very event. That idea might be too dark, but might scare them off. 

As you approached the table you heard a familiar voice.

“Y/N?”

Looking up at the man in front of you in shock.  “Steve? What the hell are you doing here?” you asked the man.

“Well, Bucky and Sam kind of convinced me to come down here and find a girlfriend.” he answered. “Why are you here?”

Right when you were about to answer he stopped you. “Wait, let me guess. Free drinks? Don’t you already raid Stark’s liquor cabinet every weekend?” he said with a smile.

“Hey, fuck you Rogers. I’ll have you know I was forced to come here by Nat and Wanda.” you said sassily but paused. “But I mean you’re right anyways.” you added chuckling.

“I guess our friends thought the same about our love lives.” he said while taking a sip of his drink.

“Yeah? And what’s that?” you smiled at him.

“We don’t have any.” he chuckled and you laughed along with him.

“I mean, you do have a point there Rogers.” you giggled as you finished your drink. You waved the waitress down ordering another glass of champagne.

“How many have you had?” Steve said motioning at your empty glass.

“I don’t know like 3 or 4? I’m not keeping count if they’re free.” you replied to the man.

“Well I don’t want you running off somewhere.” he said protectively.

“Rogers, you do know I have a strong alcohol tolerance” you asked looking at his blue eyes.

“Yes, but I still want you to be safe.” Steve replied as he drank his glass of water.

“Steve, I am literally an Avenger like you. I can take care of myself.” you huffed rolling your eyes. “You should live a little anyway, the drinks are free for a reason.”you added wiggling your eyebrows. This time Steve rolled his eyes and laughed.

“Fine, since you’re keeping me company for how long our little speed date is I’ll drink.” he smiled as he waved the waitress over and asked for a glass of whiskey. “But you do know that my alcohol tolerance is stronger than yours right?” he said, winking at you.

You giggled as your cheeks began to warm up. ‘Oh god, why is the alcohol now getting to me.’ you said to yourself as you gleaned around the room. You noticed that the host of your event went outside and found her fiancé. 

Steve thanked the waitress as she returned with your guys’ drinks. He looked up at you and his eyes skimmed over your frame. He had never seen you in that dress before, maybe it was new? Regardless, you looked beautiful wearing anything. Taking a sip of his drink he looked towards where you were staring at. He saw the host of the event talking to her boyfriend aka the man that was cheating on her. 

“I talked to the girl he was seeing.” Steve said.

“Yeah, I saw her leave the bar. Did you upset her?” you asked, looking back at the supers soldier.

“God no, I gave her advice.” he replied looking back at you. “I told her that he wasn’t worth it.” 

“Smart. I was thinking of telling our host, but she seemed so in love with him I didn’t want to hurt her. I mean I am a stranger to her after all.” you admitted taking a sip of your drink.

“Hopefully, she’ll find out.” Steve shrugged. “So find anyone interesting?” he asked, changing the subject.

“Nope, I’ve been trying to scare most of them off.” you giggled as thought back to your first date.

“Why the hell would you do that?!” Steve laughed when he finally noticed your name tag. “Twyla? Y/N, you really didn’t want to be here huh?” he asked as he looked at you.

“Well, clearly no if I was messing with these poor men.” you chuckled while finishing your drink. “Why don’t we play a game since I don’t wanna mingle with anyone else right now.” you said as you looked up at Steve.

“What, now? What the hell is the catch?” he asked, eyebrows furrowed as he stared into your glistening eyes.

“Why does there have to be a catch? I’m just suggesting something to do, unless you do want to mingle with one of these women?” you replied with a quirked eyebrow. 

Steve shook his head, “Not really, but I feel like you’re up to something.” 

You shook your head no. “Come on it’ll be fun.” you begged.

“Ok fine. What did you have in mind.” he sighed as he looked at you.

“An easy game of Fuck, Marry, Kill.” you said with a smile. The alcohol was now affecting and building your confidence. You saw Steve’s Adam's apple bob as he nodded. 

“Kill? That’s a little harsh.” Steve said as he looked at you. 

“Seriously? Kill is harsh, but fuck is ok?” you whined at him and he nodded. ”Fine, then avoid instead of kill, you baby.” you added shaking your head.

“Who are your picks then?” he asked as he downed his drink.

“Simple, the lady you gave advice to, the woman in the very short dress and me.” you smirked as you took a sip of his water. 

“Ok, avoid short dress woman, marry the woman I gave advice to and then have sex with you.” he answered honestly staring at you. You blinked in astonishment by his answer.

“Damn, Rogers you answered that way too quickly. Can I get an explanation as to why your answers came so easily?” you asked, staring at the blond.

‘Well, short dress woman I would avoid because I talked to her earlier and I was not feeling it. I would marry the woman I gave advice to because she seems to have good intentions.” Steve said confidently. “And I guess that leaves me to fuck you because I want to.” he added with lustful eyes.

‘Holy shit! Did he just admit he wanted to fuck you?!’ you thought to yourself as you sipped some water.

“Some bold words coming out of your mouth Rogers.” you said trying to think of something or anything to get more information about that last thing he said. 

“Why is it bold, when it’s the truth.” he said looking dead into your eyes.

“Well then fuck me already.” you whisper winking at him.

A/N: Was that good? I hope this was good. I feel like there should be a second part to this with some smutty action 🤔 Again if you wanna be tagged in future fics, have any requests or just wanna chat hit me up! 

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