#brilliant and impressive and exciting? also YES

[alicewritez]

Gossip - Aaron Hotchner

word count: 1329

summary: you’re a new recruit at the BAU and a firm favourite of Hotch, which has not gone unnoticed by the team. unbeknownst to the team, you and Aaron are in a relationship and are holding another secret; there’s more to what than meets the eye.

Aaron Hotchner x Reader

authors note: implied age gap, mentions of student-teacher dynamic, brief mention of pregnancy at the end but nothing too descriptive. it’s just a bit of fun/fluff. feel free to send requests of any criminal minds character you’d like 🩷

You leave Aaron's office after he briefed you on your tasks for the day; still in the probationary period. You're a newly hired profiler and a very clear favourite of Aaron's. You were surprised to hear that everyone thinks of him as a bit of a grump - he's a soft, gentle and kind man underneath the hard and stern exterior.

As you leave his office, everyone turns to look at you and you're flooded with questions. Are you two secretly related? Why does he like you so much? What is going on between the pair of you?

But truthfully, you didn't know yourself, you were just as clueless as the rest of the team. Sure, you could definitely say you harboured a crush for the man, but he had made no attempt to reciprocate those feelings. Not that he really knew about yours anyway.

Derek gives you a gentle nudge, grinning widely as his eyes glisten with mischief and he surprised a laugh. "So, you and Hotch are close?"

You shrug as you sit down at your desk. "I don't know, I suppose so..". Morgan raises an eyebrow at your nonchalant response. "You don't know?"

Penelope chimes in as she weaves her way back through the desks to get to her office. "It's so obvious. You two are clearly close! You're also, like, half his age. How do you know each other?"

You set your files on your desk. "He was one of my teachers back at the FBI Academy."

Both Derek and Penelope's eyes widen at the revelation, not imagining it could have been something as simple as that. David chuckles from his office before moving to stand against the doorframe with his arms folded. "So you're the fresh-faced prodigy we've all been hearing about."

David's smile widens. He knows you're exactly the prodigy the FBI has been boasting about for months. "But it's true, isn't it? You got your Ph.D. at nineteen and you're the youngest person to join the BAU. You were also the youngest to graduate the FBI Academy."

You suck in a breath, "well, you've certainly done your research.. but I only graduated thanks to Hotch..". Derek leans forward, his smile growing wider. "'Hotch', huh? He really is a softie for you, isn't he?"

You furrow your brows. "What do you mean?"

"I mean that we've all noticed that he's much tamer around you." Penelope chimes in again, her voice full of excitement. "Yes! Much softer, too! I've never seen him smile so often until you joined."

"I think you're reading too much into this. He's probably just being nice because I'm new." You wave them off, making a start on the files piled in your desk.

Spencer, the youngest besides you, looks at you skeptically. Sometimes he could be too smart for his own good. "You're not just any new agent, though. You're a brilliant one. You're smart, talented, gifted, and young. And you're a favourite of our unit chief. Who also happens to be a grumpy, intense man who can be hard to impress. I agree with Derek and Penelope, there must be more to the story."

"Well there really isn't." You sigh as you start writing some notes up. Each member look slightly skeptical at your response, but decide to drop the subject for now, seeing how you wanted to just get on with your work. Once you were done with your notes and reports, you excuse yourself to Hotch’s office, knocking gently on the door.

A few seconds pass before you hear his voice call out. “Come in.”

You slowly step inside and close the door behind you, files in hand. Hotch looks up as he hears the door open and close, looking up at you with a small smile. “Finished with your reports already? Impressive, as always.”

“Yeah but,” you pause, “that’s not the reason I’m here.” Hotch raises an eyebrow as he sets down his pen, giving you his full attention. “Then what is it?”

“The team are figuring it out.” You fiddle with the corners of the files in your hand, while Hotch’s eyebrows draw together in confusion. “Figured it out? Figured what out?”

“Stop playing dumb Aaron… about us..”

Hotch pauses for a moment at your use of his first name, then a sigh escapes his lips before he rubs a hand over his forehead. “I suppose they’re all talking about it, then.”

“Talk of the office yeah.” You sit down, dropping the files onto his desk with a small thud. “I suppose they were bound to find out we were together sooner or later but, I didn’t think it would be this quick.”

Hotch chuckles softly, his eyes focusing on you. Seeing your worried expression, he stands and walks around the desk to stand in front of you. He takes your hands, intertwining your fingers together. “They’re just being nosey. They’ll get over it and move onto the next bit of gossip soon.”

You sigh, squeezing his hand. “I hope so.” He rubs the back of your hand with his thumb, the gesture affectionate and soothing. He knows you don’t like being the constant topic of office gossip. “Hey, look at me.” He tilts your head up gently so that you’re looking directly into his eyes.

You look into his eyes, melting under his touch. He gazes into your eyes and over your face, his expression full of affection. He lifts a hand and tenderly strokes your cheek, his touch sending chills down your spine. “No matter what the others think or say, none of it matters. I chose you. I’ll always choose you.”

Your eyes flutter shut as you whisper, “I love you.”

He smiles at your soft admission, his heart swelling with love and affection. He pulls you closer, his arms encircling your waist. “I love you too, sweetheart.”

You smile giddily, your arms wrapping around his torso. “You’re being very bold doing this in the office.”

He chuckles, his arms holding you close to him. Despite the risk of someone walking in on the two of you at any moment, he’s too lost in the moment to care. “Can you blame me? It’s my way of showing the others who you belong to.”

You smile softly up at him. “I think we should give them something else to gossip about.” He grins gown at you, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “What do you have in mind, sweetheart?”

You pull away from him, bringing your hands to rest on your stomach. “We tell them about this.” You and Aaron had found out weeks ago, but chose to keep it quiet for now, not wanting too many to be involved just yet. It was nice that just you and Aaron knew.

His smile widens at your words. He follows the movement of your hands, placing a gentle hand over yours on your stomach. “You think it’s time?”

“We can’t hide it forever.. however much we may want to.” You respond, deep down wanting to keep it to you and Aaron for a while longer, but also knowing the team deserved to know.

He nods, his eyes fixed on the spot where his hand is resting on your stomach. He can’t help but smile wider. “You’re right. But are you ready for all the questions and comments we’re going to get?”

“No, but.. it was all going to come out eventually..”

He nods in agreement, his hand gently caressing your stomach after pulling your hands away. “You’re right. You know, you’re the bravest and most brilliant person I know. Nothing can stop us.” He drops his head down and plants a tender kiss on your forehead, then on your cheek before finally capturing your lips in a loving kiss.

Little did either of you know, the team had all been listening in from outside his office door, hearing every word. But they wouldn’t say anything, they’d let you and Aaron go to them first.

[byeoltoyuki]

Try

↳ Pairing: Seungmin x reader

❧ Genre: rivals to lovers / romance / smut

❧ Words: +4k

❧ Warnings: unprotected sex, oral (f)

❧Summary : Years ago, he used to be your enemy.

No. Enemy was too strong to describe what Kim Seungmin was to you. Your rival was a better term. He was everything you weren’t; friendly, funny and effortlessly brilliant. You loathed him for that. And yet, when you meet him again years later, you just can’t deny that there’s something else between you too.

❧ A/N : Honestly, this one comes out of nowhere. I just needed to write so here it comes ♥ Reblogs and comments are always appreciated ♥

***

‘Trust your guts’.

It was your motto in life. A simple rule. And you abided by this rule half of your short lived life. But not tonight and you regretted it. Deeply.

The annual gathering with people from your college was an event your closest friends adored just so they could show some idiots that they had succeeded in life. You? You avoided it. An event you hated with all your heart. You always found excuses not to go. Your life depended on it.

Okay. Not really. Not your life at least. But definitely your ego.

You hated half of the people who attended the event. Back in college, they were so quick to judge, to talk behind your back and yet they expected you to be nice to them. To them, you were just a cold, nerdy girl with no friends. Someone they could easily mock. They hated your attitude. They hated your looks. But they also hated how easily you beat them every single time.

They were wrong.

Yes, you were a little nerdy back then, but you weren’t a cold person, just shy. And you had friends. Not many, but you didn’t need many to feel good. To be happy. Those you had, stuck by your side and they also happened to be the reason you had finally agreed to come to the gathering. You just couldn’t say no to Hyunjin and Yeji, not when those two formed an alliance against you. You had no chance against them.

You sighed to yourself. Would it be rude to grab your purse and leave? One nasty look from Hyunjin, as if he could read your mind, and you gulped nervously. Apparently it was. You slumped further into your chair and tried to keep up with the conversation. Same boring conversation. ‘Where do you currently work?’ ‘Are you soon getting married?’ ‘I’ve bought a house!’ Why did it have to be a competition? Couldn't they just enjoy a nice gathering and the meal?

“Hyunjin, I heard you’re flying to Paris for the fashion week.” Seoah were almost drooling as she spoke to Hyunjin. You cringed. She couldn’t make it even more obvious that she wasn’t just admiring him. No, she had something else on mind. Too bad, Hyunjin was a taken man even if she didn’t know that.

He smiled into his drink. “Yes, tomorrow.” He put his glass back on the table and glanced smugly at a silently fuming Juwon who always hated Hyunjin’s popularity. “I was actually supposed to leave today, but I couldn’t miss our annual gathering! It’s good to see you guys.”

What a liar. You had to bite your lips not to laugh at his words.

Juwon cleared his throat and averted his attention on you. Hell no. “You look different.” For once, it didn’t sound like an insult but you were still weary of him. No nice words coming out of his mouth could make you forget what kind of asshole he was. And you had a hard time to believe that he had actually changed.

“Do I?” You did look different from the past. You used not to care about your looks. Who cared how you looked as long as you had good grades? You certainly didn’t. Neither did your friends. But it changed. Ever since you started working at your art gallery, you understood the importance of how others perceived you. You learnt to do your makeup right. You took care of your long hair. And you changed your whole wardrobe. You got classier. And maybe tonight you put an extra effort to look good. Not that you needed to impress anyone, but you did it anyway.

“It suits you!” Another woman commented, genuinely excited. You couldn’t remember her name but you thanked her with a smile.

Yeji eyed you from the other side of the big table, thumbs up, her eyes telling you silently ‘told you so’. You ignored her. Just because you could.

“I wonder with what kind of man you ended.” Juwon was too curious for his own good.

“Oh come on.” Seoah laughed as if the idea of you dating was ridiculous. “I bet she’s still single.”

How typical of her to assume. Not that she was wrong, but her comment still pissed you. Did she think you were still the same woman as back in college? Just because right at this moment, you were indeed single, didn’t mean you refused dating. You did and got tired of it. Every relationship you had, always started nice, romantic even, but always ended the same way: you breaking up with the guy. They were nice men who truly cared for you but there was just something missing.

However, before you could share a piece of your mind with Seoah, you were interrupted.

“Sorry guys, I’m late!”

That voice.

That stupidly, annoying voice. Your whole body reacted; you shuddered, unable to breath, unable to think properly.

Kim Seungmin.

Here came a man you wished you could avoid for the rest of your life. You knew, your hatred for him was irrational. Compare to others, he had never done anything to you. Seungmin never mocked you, never made any bad comments. But he was your rival. No matter how hard you worked, no matter how many hours you spent in the library, studying, he still beat you every single time. It drove you crazy. But what made everything tenths time worse was the fact that Seungmin quickly caught on your little game and it amused him. You hated him for that too.

“You’re right on time!” Juwon pushed a chair for him. “We’ve been discussing Y/N’s love life!” His gaze slid to you and smirked. “Or lack of it.” Yep. Still an asshole, you were right.

Seungmin quirked a brow at Juwon’s words. You felt his eyes on you. On your face, on your neck, on your arms. Your skin burned under his gaze but you refused to acknowledge his presence for the sake of your sanity.

Maybe a tiny part of you expected Seungmin to comment Juwon’s words, maybe even laugh at it. But he did none of that. Instead you felt him only closer to you which made your unease grow with every passing seconds.

“Do you mind if we switch places?” Seungmin asked the girl beside you, taking the two of you completely off guard.

You opened your mouth, a protest on the tip of your tongue but the girl beside you was faster. She hurried to leave her spot. Seungmin flashed her a pretty smile and sat right next to you. Despite you wanting to avoid him, now that he sat so close to you, your arm brushing his, there was no escape. Now that you were staring right into his pretty, annoying, eyes, you knew: you were fucked.

“As for what you said Juwon. Lack of love life?” Seungmin repeated his words. He moved a little closer to you and before you could push him away, he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, bringing you against him. “How come you didn’t tell them about us, babe?”

Loud gasps followed by whispers.

What.

What the actual fuck?!

If from outside you looked perfectly composed, at least to those who didn’t know you well enough, inside you were completely freaking out. His words made no sense. His body, his warmth that should have repelled you, felt actually nice.

Kim Seungmin was trying to help you. You heard him. You understood what he was saying but you didn’t understand why. You weren’t friends, not even close and you hadn’t seen each other for so long. I’ll deal with you later.

Something was wrong with you too because instead of pushing him away, you leant into him and accepted his help. “Because they wouldn’t have believed me. Should I remind you that we used to hate each other?” You reminded him and playfully poked his side.

Seungmin leaned closer, his lips so close to yours – you gulped but didn’t avert your eyes from his face. How annoyingly pretty he looked with his eyes shining brightly with mischief. Fine, he was helping you but he was clearly having fun too.

“Wrong.” He said and kissed the corner of your lips.

Gasps again.

Your heart skipped a beat. The corner of your lips tingled and you found yourself wishing his lips had stayed longer. What the actual fuck, Y/N. This whole night was a terrible idea and you kept making bad decisions. Getting drunk and hoping to forget everything seemed like a good idea right now.

“I never hated you.” He added and pulled back to face the others as if he hadn’t just dropped a bomb at them. And at you. “What’s up?”

And just like that they started talking again. But you heard none of that. All you could hear was the sound of your roaring heart. All you could feel was the lingering feeling of his lips. All you could think about was Seungmin and this thing going on between the two of you tonight. ‘I never hated you.’ Fine. Maybe he never did but you weren’t on best terms either. You wanted to take him outside and talk to him. Was it his attempt at messing with you? Or was he really just being genuinely nice?

You noticed Hyunjin and Yeji staring at you, questions in their eyes. You didn’t blame them. They had to know none of it was real, they were your best friends. You wouldn’t have hidden something as big as dating Kim Seungmin from them.

“And you Yeji?” Seungmin’s voice brought you back from your reverie. “I heard your new song, it’s really nice.” You wanted to concentrate on what he was saying since he was talking about your friend. You couldn’t. Not when he put his hand on your thigh. Not when he made it look so natural. Not when, despite it happening under the table, it attracted attention on the two of you again.

It should feel wrong. In fact, you should be appalled by his boldness. You didn’t. It felt awfully nice. And right. Instead of pushing him away, you simply watch him talking. You didn’t want to admire his face but it was hard not to. Even if you weren’t fond of him, you weren’t blind. Kim Seungmin was handsome. Pretty eyes, pretty nose and even prettier mouth. Without realizing it, you licked your lips, wondering how it would feel against yours. Or at any other part of your body.

Oh my god. Did they put something in my drink? There’s no way I’m thinking about him. But you were.

Seungmin squeezed your thigh, the palm of his hand feeling suddenly too hot against your skin. He forgot all about his friends and leant closer. “If you keep staring at me like that we might have a problem.” He warned you.

Your breath caught in your throat and you couldn’t ignore how your face flushed. “When did you get so bold?” You whispered in return.

Seungmin smiled in response. A smile so beautiful, so bright, you wanted to keep it for yourself.

“Growing up does that to a person.” He whispered, his lips brushed your ear. “And also, you look really pretty tonight.”

You couldn’t stop the blush from spreading all over your face even if you tried.

Kim Seungmin was a menace. But a very beautiful and annoying one.

“Okay, that’s enough.” One of the guy groaned. “Get a room. Some of us are sadly single and you two are just disgusting.”

Seungmin laughed heartily and unfortunately for you pulled away from you. A tiny part of you was relieved for the space, but another part of you almost whined at the loss of his warmth. Yeah, there was something wrong with you.

****

Somehow you managed to survive through the whole meal without a fight, without people trying to mess with you. In fact, you even managed to laugh a few times and it wasn’t just because of your friends’ jokes. And maybe it had everything to do with Seungmin.

“Should I drive you home?” Hyunjin whispered to your ear, making sure that nobody heard you.

It was the plan. You came with them and you were supposed to leave with them. You glanced at Seungmin and you couldn’t believe yourself: you were hesitating. You could leave with your friends but then you wouldn’t be able to talk to him and have a chance to thank him for his help.

Seungmin was faster to react. “I’ll take her home. Right babe?” He grabbed your jacket from your chair and waited for you.

Hyunjin rolled his eyes at his words, tempted to pull you back against him. You patted his back. “I should go with Seungmin.”

Hyunjin cocked a brow, surprised with your answer. You gave him a small smile and promised to text him and Yeji later.

Seungmin waited for you. Your body moved on its own accord. When you were close enough, Seungmin helped you to put your jacket on. You were thankful he couldn’t see your flushed face.

“There. All good.” He told you. “Are you ready?”

You were not.

***

You didn’t want the drive to your place to be awkward but it was. You didn’t know how to start the conversation with him. You knew nothing about this Kim Seungmin or how to deal with him.

“Thank you for tonight.” You said awkwardly without looking at him.

From the corner of your eyes you saw him glance at you. You expected him to make a comment, to make it easier for you but he didn’t. He returned his attention to the road. Damn him.

You sighed and slumped further into your seat. “I still don’t understand why you helped me.” This time, you looked at him.

Seungmin shrugged. “They were being dicks for no good reason.”

True, they were but it wasn’t anything new. Seungmin never stood up for you before so why now? “You didn’t need to pretend though.” He could have said anything but no, he chose to play your fake boyfriend instead.

Seungmin parked the car by the entrance of your building and then fully faced you. His eyes sparked with delight and something else. “I admit; it wasn’t my plan. But then, I had one look at you and couldn’t help myself.”

You huffed and crossed your arms over your chest. “So you were messing with me.”

“Maybe a little.”

So damn infuriating. You hurried to unbuckle your seatbelt and opened the door.

“I wasn’t joking you know.” Seungmin stopped you with his words, realizing that if he wanted for you to talk to him, he needed to be genuine. “I never hated you.” He sighed and ruffled his hair in frustration. “I loved how competitive you were. When I realized how clever you were, it pushed me to work harder, to make sure I stayed on the top. And maybe to annoy you a little too. I remember how you used to scrunch your nose whether you saw I got a better grade than you. So adorable.” He smiled at the memory.

Seungmin left you speechless. Why was he making it sound like he was actually fond of you? And why the hell did his words melted you on the spot? You needed to hurry up; grab your purse and leave this car before you did something unthinkable. But as you stepped outside of his car, your body froze, refusing to leave. I’m losing my mind, that’s it.

“Give me your phone.” You turned back and outstretched your hand. It was a bad idea. Terrible idea. But then again, it was just another one to add to the list of bad ideas. Who cared?

Seungmin didn’t hesitate. Not even for a second as if he had been waiting for this moment for ages. You refused to delve on the matter as you quickly saved your number in his phone. “Call me when you want.”

‘And maybe soon.’ But you didn’t say it.

***

You barely made it inside your flat – your phone rang with an unknown number. You stared at your phone, your heart skipping a beat. You didn’t want to think it could be Seungmin. But were you hoping? Maybe.

“Hi.” You instantly recognized his gentle voice.

You couldn’t help it. You chuckled at his eagerness. “You know, usually people wait few days to call back.”

“Open your door.”

Your eyes widened in shock. Too taken aback, you did as he asked without thinking. And here he was. “Did you follow me?!”

Seungmin smiled sheepishly and put his phone back in his pocket. “Sorry. I-“

Was he nervous? “What are you doing, Seungmin?”

Seungmin took a deep breath and took a step inside your flat. The right thing to do would be to tell him to leave. It was too soon and you weren’t in the right mind. You did none of that.

“I’m desperate.” He admitted.

Your breath hitched in your throat as he got closer to you. You knew that if you let him get too close to you, something could happen. And you didn’t completely dislike the idea. Seungmin halted right before you. His eyes blazed with so much intensity, you gulped nervously.

Gently, Seungmin took your hand and pulled it toward him to press against his chest. You jolted, surprised to feel his heartbeat. Wild. Strong. And his hand so warm. “I was a coward in college and missed my chance. I can’t do it a second time, Y/N. I can’t let you slip between my fingers again.”

Your eyes darted back and forth between your hand against his chest and his eyes. “Are you confessing, Seungmin?”

“What if I am?” He dared you, his grip on your hand tightened. Maybe a little part of him was actually scared of rejection. But he held strong.

You could pull away from him and forget his words.

You could, but you didn’t.

His words stirred something inside you. It made you curious. What if instead of looking for a guy that was nice, you went for the guy who loved to compete with you? A guy who, without you even realizing it, pushed you to be the best version of yourself? You had nothing to lose. So you did something completely out of your character. You wrapped your arms around his neck and pressed your body against his, feeling all of him against you. His body strong and firm against you.

“I’d say you need to show me just how much you like me.”

Seungmin growled at your words and instead of answering you, he claimed your mouth. So eager. So desperate. There was nothing sweet about this kiss and you didn’t mind. Seungmin poured years of frustration and need into the kiss. Poured all his feelings, his longing and you gladly took it all.

You moved through the room without breaking the kiss until your thighs met the edge of your table. You didn’t think twice as you sat on top of it, spreading your legs for him to settle against you. You felt it then, how hard he was, how much he wanted you. You would be lying if you said you weren’t wet and excited for what he could do to you.

Seungmin broke the kiss and pressed his forehead against yours. “Are you sure?”

You thought it was sweet that he still tried to control himself. That he still wanted to make sure you were comfortable with him touching you. If only he knew how bad you needed him right now. “Hundred per cent sure.” You confirmed and pecked his nose.

“Well then,” Seungmin’s lips moved from your cheek to the corner of your mouth, to your jaw. “I think I want a dessert.” He kissed your shoulder and gently slid the straps of your dress exposing your aching breasts. “So beautiful.” He licked his way from one breast to another – he took one of your breasts in his mouth, playing with you, teasing you.

You moaned softly, your hand nestled in his hair, you pushed his head against your chest. You were right, his mouth felt perfect against your skin and you thought it would be so easy to get addicted. “Touch me.” You begged, the throbbing between your legs getting too much.

“I’m touching you.” He teased, knowing damn well where you needed him the most.

“Seungmin.” You groaned and tug at his hair.

He groaned and bit playfully on your nipple. “Be nice.” With that he hiked your dress higher. He grabbed your panties and tore them off you.

You gasped loudly. “Did you just tear my panties?!”

He chuckled. “Sorry.” He was definitely not sorry judging by his smirk. You took note to make him pay later for it.

Seungmin spread your legs wider and licked his lips at your exposed pussy glistening with your wetness. “Look at that. Already so wet and I barely touched you.” He teased your sweet pussy by dragging a finger from your clit to your entrance, loving how you shivered at this simple touch.

“Seungmin, please.” You begged shamelessly and pushed your hips, needing to feel more.

“Do you want that?” He pushed his fingers deep inside you. So easily. In and out. Slower at first and then faster, watching as you threw your head back, your lips parted. Your soft moans filled the room and it was the sweetest melody to his ears.

Slowly, Seungmin dropped to his knees. Your dizzy mind barely registered what he was doing – he gently scraped his teeth over your clit. He knew exactly what he was doing. The moment he wrapped his lips around your clit, you lost it.  A loud moan escaped your lips. He feasted on you eagerly; his mouth, his fingers, he was slowly driving you crazy and you could only beg for more.

“Oh my god, Seungmin.” You mewled and ground against his face.

He was good. Too good. His mouth was divine. He worked his magic so well, you could feel your orgasm so close you could taste it.

“I’m so close. Please.”

Seungmin hummed against your pussy. “Come then.”

And you did. Your whole body trembled as your orgasm washed over you. But he didn’t stop. Seungmin kept sucking on your clit, enjoying how you writhed and tried to pull him away from you, too sensitive from your orgasm.

Seungmin straightened up and slowly pulled out his fingers from your pussy. He watched you, smiling lazily as he brought his fingers to his mouth and sucked on them.

“Shit.” You clenched around nothing at the sight. He shouldn’t be allowed to look so sinful.

You grabbed him by his shirt and pulled him into another bruising kiss, tasting yourself on his lips. “I need you inside me right now.”

“So bossy.” He chuckled, “What if I want to play more with you?”

You considered it for a moment. You wouldn’t mind him playing with you. But right now, you wanted him buried deep inside you. You wanted him to fuck you so hard you wouldn’t remember why in the hell you considered him as your enemy for so long. Wanted him to fuck you so hard you wouldn’t remember your name.

You reached between your bodies and started working on his belt and then his zipper. “You’ll have plenty of opportunities to play with me later.”

Seungmin arched a brow, amused with your confession. “Will I?”

“Hell yeah.” You grabbed his cock. He was hard and angry and dripping pre-cum. You salivated at the sight. Kim Seungmin was perfect and you were dying to find out how hard he could ruin you. “Please, wreck me?” You asked as nicely as you could manage.

Seungmin shook his head, laughing fondly. “How can I say no to you?”

Seungmin drove into you. One deep thrust that made you grab his arms, holding for your dear life.

“Fuck.” You moaned and tried to compose yourself. He felt perfect, stretching you, filling you just like you needed.

Seungmin dragged his cock slowly at first, letting you time to adjust and maybe also trying to compose himself. Despite all his talk about playing, he couldn’t deny how badly he wanted to lose control and drive you mad. “You were made for me, Y/N.” He grunted, his control slipping little by little. “Fuck.”

“Don’t hold back, please.” Who cared if he ruined you? Who cared if you couldn’t walk tomorrow? You didn’t.

And he didn’t. Seungmin slammed back into you. His thrusts hard. Deep. Reaching all the right spots. Making you cry out his name. Making you whimper. “You are so fucking perfect.” He hissed as you clenched around him.

“Please, please, please.” You didn’t know what you begged for anymore. Was for him to go harder? To go deeper? To slow down? You couldn’t tell. Your mind was overwhelmed. Your body was burning.

Seungmin kept a brutal rhythm, his thrusts vicious, his grip on your body strong, fingers digging into your skin. It would leave marks and you could only wish for more. Let the world see that someone made you feel so good. Let the world see that you belonged to him.

His hand reached between your bodies and rubbed your clit. There was no escape. You came in a loud cry, wildly, explosively, your body shaking. Seungmin fucked you through your orgasm, his thrusts getting sloppier, his grunts louder, seeking his own release.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and claimed his mouth, swallowing his groan as he came deep inside you, trembling against you.

Seungmin rested his head in the crook of your head, panting. For a moment, you didn’t talk and savored just the moment and the press of your sweaty bodies. It felt nice. It felt good. Perfect.

With your orgasm came clarity. “Why haven’t we done it sooner?” You laughed.

Seungmin bit on your collarbone in response. “Because we had other priorities in college.”

That you did. “What a shame.” You sighed dramatically. “Guess we have some serious catch up to do, don’t you think?”

[girlberrie]

after all this time?

                             𓀡     sam's third hp dr incoming……..

Bowie Stark was born a wizard, apparently. (God knows he still doesn’t believe it. He’s tried to bargain with the sky about it. No response)

Before, he had quietly resigned himself to a future spent rotting at a desk job and being depressed whilst sipping a cocktail funded by his very fulfilling 9-to-5 career. And then: the letter. Addressed specifically to him, to his bedroom (his bedroom? okay, stalker? very rom-com of you, Hogwarts). Suddenly, everything turned upside down and a little sideways. He is delighted by this, of course, that his fate isn’t corporate hell any longer… though with the company he stumbled into on the Hogwarts Express, it seems his fate now swings between mildly dangerous, near-death, and certain death.

Obviously, this means he is best friends with Harry Potter. And proximity to the black-haired menace, the walking contradiction that has green eyes like bitter, brilliant candy means you are also, by default, flirting with disaster. But Bowie likes Harry, quite a lot. It’s impossible not to, when you look into his eyes, see past the iris and into his soul—unbearably good and unbearably tired. What Harry brings into Bowie’s life—gray hairs and a probably early end, yes, but also something like purpose—is worth the risk.

And Bowie has always been an outlier. He used to choose solitude with an odd sort of pride. He didn’t like other kids, and they didn’t like him, and it felt like a clean, manageable arrangement. But then came Ron—ginger, curious, chaotic—and Harry, with his strange mix of tragedy and charm. They broke through Bowie’s self-imposed exile with their childish joy and excitement in a single train ride, and to his mild horror, they never let him crawl back in. Hermione Granger came into the picture not much later, and Bowie liked her from the start—liked her brilliance, her impatience, her eagerness most of all—because he knew, like her, to feel ordinary and to suddenly not be. The four of them became something solid, something he’d never had before. Suddenly, he was taken away from the sidelines and put into the middle of something. Something loud, messy, warm… He was known. Bowie likes to think they saved him from himself. (He also likes to think he saved them, too. Maybe. A little.)

And then there’s Tom Riddle. That’s… complicated.

Tom is a Slytherin that is not like the others. Less annoying, more creepy. Quick, quiet, smart was Bowie’s first impression. When Bowie first sought him out, Tom was across the library—midnight, empty corridors, books stacked like Tom was hiding something behind them. Bowie was curious. He couldn’t help it. Tom Riddle was a puzzle that Bowie wanted to solve, destroy—rinse, repeat—and he had never been good at leaving puzzles unsolved. Their first real conversation felt like a test Bowie didn’t study for, and somehow still passed. Now, each time Bowie thinks he’s solved the puzzle, Tom unveils ten more pieces for him to piece together, and they’ve slipped into something strange. Bowie seeks him out. Tom allows it. Bowie is still intrigued, Tom is a willing participant, and their talks are electric and Bowie enjoys them more than he ever thought he could.

Hermione calls it a crush. Ron and Harry make faces whenever Bowie’s eyes linger too long in the wrong direction. Bowie ignores them all in his quiet affection. Tells Hermione she’s misused a semicolon in her potions essay. Tells Ron he has crumbs on his collar. Tells Harry he’s his favorite person and kisses his cheek for no reason at all. All petty revenge. All part of the routine.

Bowie Stark is half-veela.

According to the Ministry, that makes him half-creature. According to Draco Malfoy, it makes him a target. Bowie disagrees with both. Luckily, he’s quick and far meaner with a wand than anyone gives him credit for. The rest of Hogwarts’ populace sees him as Harry Potter’s strange extension—the best friend. Golden child of Professor McGonagall. Connoisseur of orange juice. Potions whiz. Boy with mood swings so intense they’ve been mapped by the astronomy club.

Bowie doesn’t care. To the people who know, he is both a genius and a dumbass. He debates the concept of mortality with the talking mirror in the dorm whilst dressing up (whilst Ron yells, Harry delightedly giggles, and Bowie continues preaching). He loves the colour pink most. He drinks copious amounts of orange juice. He reads whenever he isn’t making sure Harry isn’t going off and dying. He laughs at most jokes. He wants to join the quidditch team. He is daring and moral like his house predicts. He is kindhearted like Harry and sometimes selfish like Tom.

To Hermione, Bowie is the pillar. When Ron and Harry don’t understand her, he will, and he will give her temple a fleeting kiss and her, a beatific smile, to make her feel better. When she needs it he will edit her essays, and he will walk her to the library and sit with her for hours until she understands a concept for the next transfiguration test. To Ron, Bowie is the glue. When he falls apart, Bowie will scold him back to reparation. When he feels glum and far, Bowie will fish him back from the depths his mind dragged himself to. To Harry, Bowie is the sturdy, unwavering home. Bowie will laugh at his brooding and give him something to giggle about. Bowie will pinch and peck his cheeks when he pouts and let him cry when he needs to. Bowie will never let him die. And to Tom, Bowie is the blooming flowers in spring and the soft snow falling in winter—he changes the way liquids do, smoothly, and he always has Tom’s attention. When Tom needs something to pull him out of a dark mood, Bowie bounds over like sunshine and softly talks until Tom can muster a smile. When Tom needs to feel love, Bowie corners him and gives him love in the form of silly gossip and a willingness to debate about anything and everything.

As a first year, Bowie helped Harry kill a teacher. Accidentally, mostly. He is a changed boy after—he has learnt the highs and lows of adventure… or so he thinks.

Because as a second year, Bowie helps Harry slay the basilisk. Not as accidental.

Bowie hopes his third year won’t be as adventurous… he needs a break. He’s bracing for adventure nevertheless. After all, he is best friends with Harry Potter.

. . . yes. yes. yes. another hp dr. yes. there is plot. yes, i haven’t changed much of the plot. yes, i am a boy (boyberrie era?). bowie stark (me) is an icon and he (me) is here to stay. i love this dr sm. i love the golden trio sm. harry potter my sweetheart. hermione granger my unhinged best friend. ron weasley my loyal passive aggressive king. i love them your honour. anyway hope you guys enjoyed reading BYE

ps. ministry id card ib @kerryshifts

[kimberbohwrites]

Freckles

Drabble Request from @sunflowerrolanadorer & @scandistar

SFW, Fluffy, cute, Rolan x Reader, 734 Words (none of them edited!)

As an aspiring spellcaster you started working at Sorcerous Sundries under the new management of Rolan, a tiefling from Elturel. You’d heard all about his prowess, after all he’d helped the famed Tav save the city from such a terrible plot just last year. The stories on the street and in the papers had filled you with excitement, on top of a steady paycheck you’d also be getting lessons with Rolan — the Archwizard himself.

That’s really where the trouble started. The papers and the gossip had failed to include mention of how handsome the wizard was.

Your first impression couldn’t have gone worse. He’d walked in to his office to meet with you already talking and the velvet sound of his voice had immediately thrown you. But it was seeing him as he came around the desk that left you stunned. The sun from the window behind him cast brilliant rays that highlighted every beautiful angle and plane on his face. He glowed ethereally and your mouth hung open, the breath stolen from your chest as you felt an unexpected warmth fill your body. As he came to stand in front of you at his desk, blocking out the sun, you are able to notice the perfect dusting of freckles that adorn his face.

Your staring is incredibly obvious as evidenced by the way he clears his throat, the whisper of a blush seems to rise on his cheeks.

“Yes, ahem, I’m a tiefling. Is that going to be an issue?”

His words hit you like a punch to the gut — of course he thinks you’re being rude.

“Yes, I mean no, I mean it’s fine — I mean it doesn’t matter — well of course it matters but it doesn’t matter—“

An unintelligent smattering of words and thoughts ramble from your mouth as you try to do anything to improve the situation. It doesn’t help but you’re grateful that Rolan seems interested to move on quickly.

You spend the rest of the meeting making the most respectful eye contact possible, even if your eyes do sweep eagerly across his freckles the moment he glances away to grab a piece of parchment.

—

Your next few interactions are hardly any better. In your lessons you find yourself distracted. It’s not your fault that you’re being taught magic by one of the most handsome men you’ve ever seen in your life. His eyes burn into your when he watches you to make sure you’re understanding what he’s teaching. The yellow fire in his gaze is like the sunlight that so very lovingly frames his visage each time your work extends to sunset.

And his freckles. They’re just so — cute.

You can easily imagine the way his tail would swish in irritation at that description — cute. But you can’t help it and a giddy blush on your cheeks as you think about him. He is cute. His sweet freckles dot the dimples on his cheeks when he smiles — they even dust across his eyelids you noticed once when you happened upon him asleep at his desk. Your mind tends to wander during slow moments at work as you think about him and all the other places on his body he might have freckles. The flush on your cheeks turns hot and you force yourself back to your sorting duties, lest Rolan catch you daydreaming about him — again.

Everyone can see it but him, his siblings and the other employees at the store. Cal and Lia go so far as to make little jokes about your crush on their brother and how oblivious he is to it.

“You’re always so distracted,” Rolan sighs during a lesson after work one day, “Maybe I’m just not the teacher you need.”

Before you can argue, Lia ducks her head into the room — her timing almost criminally flawless.

“Oh I think you’re just what they need” she laughs as she continues on.

Rolan’s face flushes, highlighting each and everyone of his perfect little freckles as he sputters with confusion. His tail coiling around his leg in agitation as he muses.

“What does that even mean?”

Before you can overthink it you lean of forward and plant a kiss on his cheek, your lips gracing his warm skin — freckles and all.

“Oh? Oh. Oh.”

Rolan’s tail coils around your leg as he pulls you closer, the mystery of his distracted student solved at long last.

Borders by @ Olenvasynyt on Tumblr, Please Like/Reblog!

[fr0stf4ll]

Forge of Stralight - Part 2

here is the link for part 1 or part 3

paring; Azriel x reader

summary; In the heart of Velaris, a skilled blacksmith's quiet life is turned upside down when unexpected bonds begin to form with the enigmatic Spymaster of the Night Court. As she navigates the challenges of her craft and the complexities of newfound relationships, she discovers that love and loyalty may be the strongest forces of all in a world where darkness often lingers just beyond the light.

Word Count; 4k

notes; Hey everyone! This chapter is more centered around the IC. New clues and questions will arise while following Y/N from a different perspective. Also I already wrote a good part of the story, I will try to publish a new chapter every day/two day. I hope that you will like the part 2. Do not hesitate to comment. Bisous <3

---

Two weeks had flown by, and the long-awaited night of the Winter Solstice had enveloped Velaris in a festive blanket of snow and twinkling stars. Inside the stately townhouse of the High Lord, the inner circle—Mor, Armen, Cassian, Azriel, and Rhys—gathered around a roaring fire, the room aglow with the warmth of friendship and laughter.

Mor, ever the heart of any gathering, clapped her hands with a bright, infectious enthusiasm. "Alright, everyone, it's the moment we've all been waiting for—gifts time!" she announced, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

Laughter and cheerful banter filled the room as small, beautifully wrapped packages began to change hands. Azriel joked about how he hoped his gift was better than last year's infamous "invisible cloak"—which turned out to be just an empty box. Cassian roared with laughter, slapping him on the back, while Rhys watched on, a sly grin playing on his lips.

As the gifts made their rounds, the moment came for Cassian and Azriel to receive their gifts from Rhys. With a dramatic flourish that matched the occasion, Rhys presented them each with an elegantly wrapped, long, slender box. "For my brothers, who deserve nothing but the best," he said with a warm tone of brotherly affection.

Cassian and Azriel exchanged a look of curiosity and anticipation before tearing into the wrapping. As they lifted the lids, the room fell into an appreciative silence. Inside each box lay a masterfully crafted sword and dagger set, the metal gleaming even in the soft light of the fire.

Azriel’s set was sleek and shadowy, with subtle, intricate engravings along the blade that seemed to shift and move in the light. The hilt was expertly crafted to fit perfectly in his hand, and the syphon stone nestled at the base pulsed with a faint, mysterious glow.

Cassian's sword and dagger were robust and commanding, with bold designs etched along the blades and a heavier, more aggressive build. The handles were wrapped in dark leather that contrasted starkly with the bright gleam of the steel, and his syphon stone throbbed with a powerful, steady light.

"Rhys, these are... incredible," Cassian finally broke the silence, his voice thick with emotion. "Seriously, brother, they're more than I could have hoped for."

Azriel, ever the more reserved of the two, was quietly inspecting his blade, but his impressed expression spoke volumes. He looked up at Rhys, a question in his eyes. "Was this why you sent me to the new blacksmith’s shop? To deliver our old syphons?"

Rhys nodded, a satisfied smile lighting up his face. "Yes, I wanted Y/N to incorporate them into your new weapons. I knew she could breathe new life into those old stones."

Mor leaned forward, her interest piqued. "That was a brilliant touch, Rhys. Y/N’s craftsmanship is truly remarkable. Did you see how Az’s blade almost seems alive with shadows?"

"And Cass’s looks like it could lead an army on its own," Armen added, smirking as she felt back in her comfy sofa.

The conversation spiraled into a lively discussion about the craftsmanship, the battle stories that the old syphons had seen, and how these new weapons would soon make their own marks in history. Laughter and heartfelt thanks filled the room, creating memories that would warm their hearts for many solstices to come.

As the night wore on, filled with more stories and laughter, Cassian and Azriel handled their new gifts with something akin to reverence. It was clear these were more than just weapons; they were symbols of their brotherhood, their strength, and the silent, unbreakable bonds that held them all together.

As the Winter Solstice celebration unfolded in the warm glow of the townhouse, Rhysand and Azriel found a brief moment of quiet near the crackling fire. The High Lord, nursing a glass of wine, caught the spymaster's thoughtful gaze and smiled knowingly.

"Y/N, hmm?" Rhysand began, his tone light with a hint of intrigue. "I heard about her long before she set up shop in Velaris. It was during a meeting with Helion at his court. He couldn't stop boasting about the spear she crafted for him—it was truly magnificent."

Azriel, leaning casually against the wall, raised an eyebrow in curiosity. "Helion? That's high praise coming from the Day Court. She must be something special."

Rhysand nodded, a gleam of pride in his eyes. "Indeed she is. From what I gather, she keeps to herself, lets her work speak for her. Mysterious, but fiercely talented."

Azriel’s interest was clearly piqued. "She seems to have a knack for keeping a low profile. What do you know about her background?"

Rhysand’s gaze shifted to the fire, a thoughtful expression crossing his features. "She’s originally from the Night Court, Velaris to be exact. But beyond that, she’s a bit of an enigma. Not one to share her story readily."

Azriel nodded slowly, absorbing the information. "Her work speaks volumes, though. Each piece feels imbued with a story, a history."

Rhysand chuckled softly. "Sounds like someone else I know," he teased, nudging Azriel playfully. "But she’s different. There’s a depth to her craftsmanship that’s rare."

Meanwhile, across the room, Mor and Cassian were engrossed in their own revelry, their laughter filling the air as they enjoyed the solstice festivities with abandon, seemingly oblivious to the more serious conversation unfolding between Rhysand and Azriel.

Azriel’s gaze lingered thoughtfully on the flickering flames before returning to Rhysand. "Do you think she’d be willing to collaborate with us more closely? Her talent could be a valuable asset to our efforts."

Rhysand nodded in agreement. "I was thinking the same thing. Let’s give her time to settle in, though. If she’s as exceptional as we believe, she’ll find her place in our plans soon enough."

Their conversation shifted to lighter topics as the night wore on, but Azriel couldn't shake the intrigue Y/N had stirred in him. Her presence in Velaris promised more than just exceptional craftsmanship—it hinted at alliances, mysteries, and a potential for change that resonated deeply within the heart of the Night Court.

----

A few days after the festive celebrations of the Winter Solstice, Rhysand was deep in discussion with Madja, the esteemed healer of the Night Court. They were seated in a quiet, sunlit room in the House of Wind, poring over scrolls and plans aimed at enhancing the health infrastructure of their court. They debated new strategies and shared insights on how best to equip their healers with advanced resources.

As their meeting drew to a close, Madja, ever observant, shifted the topic with a hint of intrigue in her tone. "Rhysand, have you heard of the blacksmith Y/N?" she asked, her eyes sharp and probing.

Rhysand nodded, a hint of pride in his response. "Yes, I'm quite familiar with her work. She crafted the weapons I gifted to Cassian and Azriel for the solstice. They were exceptional."

Madja leaned in slightly, her voice lowering to a confidential whisper. "Keep her close, Rhysand. She bears a power that could save many lives, far beyond what her craftsmanship alone might suggest."

Rhysand's interest was immediately piqued, his strategic mind already turning over the implications. "What do you mean, Madja? What kind of power are we talking about?"

Madja sighed, and her gaze became distant as she recalled the day she visited Y/N's smithy, prompting a flashback:

The day had been unusually brisk for Velaris, the winter chill seeping through even the warmest of cloaks. Madja pushed open the door to Y/N's smithy, greeted by the familiar clang of metal on metal and the comforting heat that rolled out from the forge. The shop was lively, with customers admiring the array of weapons and tools displayed with meticulous care. The air smelled of iron and burning coals, a scent that Madja had always associated with strength and resilience.

Y/N emerged from the back, wiping her hands on a leather apron, her sharp eyes taking in the scene before settling on Madja. "Healer Madja," Y/N greeted with a nod, a small smile on her lips. "What can I do for you today?"

Madja reached into the folds of her cloak and pulled out an old, well-worn sickle. The blade, while still sharp, had seen many years of use. "I need a new sickle," she explained, holding the tool out for Y/N to examine. "Something similar to this, but I’d like it embedded with healing gems—something that can amplify my abilities when I work."

Y/N took the sickle, turning it over in her hands, studying the craftsmanship with a discerning eye. "I can do that," she said after a moment. "I’ll need a few days to gather the right materials, but I’ll make sure it’s exactly what you need."

As they spoke, the shop was bustling around them. Alexander, ever energetic and eager to help, was darting about, juggling several tasks at once. At one point, he was carrying an armful of swords, trying to show a client the finer details of a blade while managing the chaos around him. Madja watched with a smile, amused by the boy’s enthusiasm.

But then, in his haste, Alex’s foot caught on the edge of a carpet that had bunched up beneath the weight of all the activity. He stumbled forward, the swords in his arms clattering to the ground with a sharp, metallic crash. His wide eyes filled with panic as he lost his balance, teetering dangerously.

Y/N reacted instantly, her hand shooting out to catch Alex before he could fall, her grip steady and sure. But in the chaos, Madja’s old sickle, which had been resting precariously on the edge of the counter, was knocked off, plummeting toward the floor—and directly toward Alex.

Madja’s heart leaped into her throat, but before she could move, Y/N’s other hand lashed out, snatching the sickle by the blade just inches from Alex’s head. The sharp edge sliced through Y/N’s palm, blood welling up immediately. But the sickle never reached the boy. Instead, Y/N held it firmly, her expression more concerned with Alex than her own injury.

"Alex, are you okay?" Y/N asked, her voice calm despite the cut on her hand.

Alex, wide-eyed and shaken, nodded slowly. "Y-Yeah, I’m fine. I’m so sorry, Nana, I didn’t mean to—"

"It’s alright," Y/N assured him, her voice gentle. She set the sickle down carefully, then knelt to help Alex gather the fallen swords. "Just be more careful next time, okay?"

Madja stepped forward, her healer’s instincts kicking in as she moved to examine Y/N’s hand. "Let me see that," she insisted, reaching out.

But Y/N pulled her hand back slightly, shaking her head. "It’s just a scratch. I’ll be fine."

Madja was about to protest when something caught her eye—small, flickering blue flames that danced across Y/N’s wound, sealing it shut with a soft, almost musical hum. The flames vanished as quickly as they had appeared, leaving behind smooth, unbroken skin where the cut had been just moments before.

Madja stared, her mind racing. "What... was that?" she murmured, more to herself than to anyone else.

Y/N seemed unfazed, her focus still on Alex, making sure he was steady on his feet. "Nothing to worry about," she said, her tone casual. But there was a tension in her voice that didn’t escape Madja’s notice.

The healer hesitated, unsure of what she had just witnessed, but knowing better than to press the issue in front of others. "If you’re sure," she finally said, though the uncertainty lingered in her eyes.

Y/N nodded, giving her a reassuring smile. "I am. Thank you, Madja."

Madja left the shop soon after, but the image of those blue flames stayed with her. She couldn’t shake the feeling that what she had seen was more than just a simple healing ability—there was something deeper, something powerful about Y/N that she couldn’t yet understand.

Back in the present, Rhysand’s expression was contemplative, his mind turning over the possibilities. "Blue flames that heal… That’s not something you see every day. You’re sure it was real, Madja?"

Madja nodded, her expression serious. "I’ve never seen anything like it before, Rhysand. There’s a power in her that could be incredibly valuable. Her abilities could redefine healing, or perhaps... something more."

Rhysand leaned back, his thoughts racing. "This is something I need to look into further. If Y/N possesses such power, she could play a crucial role in the future of the Night Court."

"Be careful, Rhysand," Madja warned gently. "Power like that isn’t always easy to control. But if anyone can guide her, it’s you."

Rhysand nodded, the weight of this new revelation settling on his shoulders. He knew he needed to approach this carefully, to understand the full extent of Y/N’s abilities—and to ensure that whatever power she held, it would be used to protect and strengthen the Night Court.

----

The day had been kind to you, the steady hum of work filling your hours, and now, as night fell over Velaris, you decided to treat Alex to a well-deserved meal. The two of you strolled along the Sidra, the river reflecting the twinkling lights of the city, casting everything in a magical glow. The restaurant you chose was a cozy, yet elegant establishment with an outdoor terrace that overlooked the water. The warm, inviting lights and the soft murmur of other diners created a serene atmosphere that was perfect for unwinding after a long day.

You had dressed nicely for the occasion, opting for well-fitted pants and a tailored shirt that allowed you to feel both comfortable and presentable. Alex, too, had cleaned up well, his usual enthusiasm shining brightly in his eyes as you both took your seats at a small table by the river.

"This place is amazing, Nana," Alex said, his voice filled with excitement as he scanned the menu. "We should come here more often!"

You smiled, taking in the joy on his face. "We’ve had a good run lately, haven’t we? I figured we deserved a little treat."

The waiter arrived, and you both placed your orders— your young apprentice going for sugary drink and you for a glass of white wine. As you sipped your drink, Alex leaned in with a mischievous grin.

"You remember that client who came in last week?" Alex began, his tone full of amusement. "The one who insisted he needed a sword for 'taming wild beasts'? Turns out he thought the sword would actually talk to the animals and convince them to behave."

You nearly choked on your wine, giggling at the absurdity of it. "No! Did he really? I thought he just wanted a strong blade for hunting or something."

Alex nodded, laughing. "Yeah! I had to explain to him that swords don’t exactly come with instructions for bear negotiations."

Your laughter was soft and genuine, the joy of the moment spreading warmth through your chest. It was in that moment of shared humor that the door to the restaurant opened, and you caught sight of Rhysand, Azriel, and Cassian entering. They were dressed as impeccably as ever, their presence immediately commanding attention in the room. 

The three of them were clearly expected, as a table near the river, a bit more private, was promptly made available for them. However, before they were seated, Rhysand’s gaze fell upon you and Alex. His eyes lit up with recognition, and a charming smile spread across his face as he made his way over to your table, the others following behind.

"Y/N," Rhysand greeted warmly, his voice smooth as ever. "What a pleasant surprise to see you here." He turned to Alex with a grin. "And this must be the famous Alexander I’ve heard so much about."

Alex, never one to shy away from attention, beamed up at the High Lord. "That’s me! Nice to see you again, my lord!"

Rhysand chuckled, then glanced back at his brothers. "Y/N, allow me to introduce Cassian, our esteemed General of the Illyrian legions. I believe you’ve already met Azriel, our spymaster."

Cassian extended a hand with a friendly grin. "I’ve heard nothing but good things about your work, Y/N. It’s a pleasure to finally meet the master behind the blade."

You shook his hand, feeling a bit shy under the attention but managing a smile. "The pleasure’s mine. I’ve heard a lot about you as well."

Azriel, standing slightly behind Rhysand, gave you a nod of acknowledgment. "Good to see you again, Y/N."

Rhysand then motioned toward their table, his eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief. "Why don’t you both join us for dinner? We’d love the company."

Caught off guard, you hesitated, glancing at Alex before responding. "Oh, I wouldn’t want to intrude. This is your night out, after all."

Cassian waved away your concern with a laugh. "Nonsense! The more, the merrier."

You were still about to politely decline when Alex piped up, his eyes wide with excitement. "Please, Nana! I’ve always wanted to have dinner with them. Plus, I think they’ve got some cool stories to tell!"

You bit your lip, trying to hide your smile. Alex’s enthusiasm was hard to resist, and the idea of joining them, despite your initial reluctance, was becoming more appealing. Finally, you sighed playfully and nodded. "Alright, alright. You win, Alex."

Rhysand’s smile broadened as he gestured toward their table. "Perfect. Let’s make this an evening to remember."

The evening by the Sidra continued to unfold beautifully as you and Alex joined Rhysand, Cassian, and Azriel at their table. The atmosphere was warm and inviting, the city lights reflecting off the river, casting a soft glow over the terrace. The five of you settled in comfortably, and soon, food and drinks were ordered—a mix of hearty dishes and lighter fare, with wine flowing freely.

As the meal progressed, the conversation naturally turned to more personal topics. Rhysand, ever the curious and perceptive High Lord, leaned in slightly, his eyes twinkling with genuine interest. "Y/N, you’re a bit of a mystery. I’d love to know more about your story—where you’re from, your family, how you came to be the talented blacksmith you are today."

You hesitated for a moment, swirling the wine in your glass as you considered where to begin. The table fell into a quiet, expectant silence, all eyes on you.

"Well," you started, "I’m originally from Velaris. My father was a guard here, dedicated to protecting the city, and my mother came from a family of old politicians who eventually left Hewn City to make a life here."

Cassian nodded thoughtfully, sipping his drink. "Sounds like they were strong people. What happened to them?"

You sighed softly, the memories bittersweet. "My mother died giving birth to me. It was... hard on my father. They were mates, and the pain of losing her was too much for him. He passed away a few hours after she did."

Cassian’s brow furrowed, his voice laced with concern and curiosity. "He just... passed away? How?"

You took a deep breath, meeting his gaze steadily. "He killed himself. The bond they shared was so strong that living without her wasn’t an option for him."

The table grew solemn, the weight of your words settling over everyone. Rhysand reached out, "I’m sorry, Y/N. That’s a lot for anyone to bear."

You nodded, appreciating the gesture. “I never actually knew them so I’m fine with it I guess. After they died, I was raised by my father’s best friend—my master. He taught me everything I know about blacksmithing. We traveled to most of the courts and across the continent, honing my skills. Alex," you added with a fond glance at the boy beside you, "is my master’s son. After my master passed away, I took Alex under my wing."

Alex, who had been quietly listening, smiled up at you, his admiration evident. “Y/N's the best teacher. She’s taught me everything."

Azriel, who had been quietly observing, spoke up, his tone thoughtful. "You’ve had quite the journey, Y/N. It takes strength to turn pain into something as beautiful and powerful as your work."

You smiled softly, nodding in agreement. "It wasn’t easy, but it’s the only way I know how to honor them."

As the evening wore on, the conversation flowed freely, accompanied by the delicious food and the soothing ambiance of the Sidra beside you. After sharing your story, a question that had been lingering at the back of your mind finally surfaced.

“You three,” you began, glancing between Rhysand, Cassian, and Azriel, “are you truly brothers? I’ve heard stories, but I’ve always wondered how much truth there is to them.”

Cassian chuckled, exchanging a glance with Rhysand and Azriel. “Well, not by blood,” he admitted, “but in every way that matters, we’re brothers.”

Rhysand nodded, his expression softening as he looked at his two closest friends. “We grew up together in the Illyrian war camps. It wasn’t an easy upbringing, but we forged bonds that can’t be broken. Cassian and Azriel have been at my side through everything—through battles, victories, losses… they’re my family.”

Azriel, who was usually reserved, added quietly, “We’ve faced more together than most blood-related brothers ever would. That kind of connection goes beyond anything as simple as blood.”

Cassian leaned in, a grin spreading across his face. “And if you need proof, just look at how often we bicker like brothers.”

You laughed softly, understanding now the depth of their bond. “It’s clear there’s a lot of history between you. It’s… comforting to see that even in a place as powerful as the Night Court, family—however it’s made—still matters most.”

Rhysand smiled at you, his eyes reflecting the sentiment. “Family is everything to us, Y/N. And it’s something that grows—not just with blood, but with loyalty and trust.”

At this, Cassian turned his attention to Alex, who was listening intently. “Speaking of family, Alex, how about joining ours in a different way? Ever thought about training to be a warrior? You’ve got the makings of a good one.”

Alex looked up at Cassian, curiosity flickering in his eyes. “What time would the training start?”

Cassian grinned, leaning back in his chair. “Around dawn. What do you think?”

Alex wrinkled his nose playfully, causing everyone to chuckle. “Dawn? That’s way too late! By then, Nana and I have already finished our training.”

The table fell into a momentary silence, the surprise evident on the faces of the Night Court’s inner circle. Azriel raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed. “You train before dawn?”

You couldn’t help but smile at their reactions. “What did you expect? We don’t just create weapons; we know how to wield them, too. Alex is becoming quite skilled, actually.”

Cassian let out a low whistle, visibly impressed. “Well, consider me impressed. Maybe I’ll join you two sometime—if you’ll have me.”

Alex beamed with pride. “You’re welcome anytime, but don’t expect to keep up!”

Laughter erupted around the table, the earlier heaviness of your shared stories giving way to a light-hearted camaraderie that wrapped around you like a warm embrace. The night continued with more stories, jokes, and the easy flow of conversation that only comes when people truly connect.

As the evening drew to a close, and the stars twinkled brightly above Velaris, you felt a deep sense of belonging. This dinner by the Sidra had revealed not just the pasts of the people around you, but had begun weaving your own story into the fabric of their lives. It was the start of something new, something meaningful—both for you and for Alex—and you couldn’t wait to see where it would lead.

tag list: @annamariereads16 @hanatsuki-hime @elsie-bells

don't hesitate to comment if you want to be added to the tag list ;)))

[novaursa]

Legacy (winds of winter)

- Summary: Tywin was the man who saved you from Robert's wrath. He was also the man who doomed you.

- Pairing: targ!reader/Tywin Lannister

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Previous part: of the east and the west

- Next part: the long night

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @oxymakestheworldgoround @luniaxifics @alkadri-layal @butterflygxril

The waves crashed against the hull of the Lion’s Glory, a sleek and sturdy ship bearing the Lannister banners, as it cut through the choppy waters leaving Dragonstone behind. Tywin Lannister stood at the bow, his hands clasped behind his back, the wind tugging at his cloak. Beside him stood Jaime, clad in armor that was brilliant in the pale sunlight, his golden hand resting on the hilt of his sword.

The cries of gulls mixed with the rhythmic creak of the ship’s timbers, but it was the distant roar that turned every head on the deck.

“She’s following us,” Jaime said, his tone amused as he tilted his head upward.

High above, Viserion soared, her great wings slicing through the sky with effortless grace. Her armor gleamed—a testament to Tywin’s command for her protection—the polished plates covering her underbelly and flanks glinting in the sunlight. Behind her, smaller but no less agile, darted the juvenile dragon from Dragonmont, its black scales shimmering with streaks of blood red.

“Younger one does not like being left behind,” Jaime remarked, shielding his eyes as he watched the dragons circle overhead.

Tywin’s expression was impassive, though his gaze remained fixed on the magnificent beasts. “They are loyal to her,” he said simply, referring to you, though his tone carried no softness. “As they should be.”

Behind them, Damon, now nearly four years old, toddled toward the railing, pointing upward with a gleeful laugh. “Mama! Mama’s flying!”

The servants, struggling to keep pace with the energetic child, reached him just as he grasped the edge of the ship, bouncing on his toes. “Young master, please be careful!” one of them urged.

Jaime chuckled softly, stepping back to ruffle Damon’s silver-gold curls. “Careful, little warrior. Your mother would roast me alive if anything happened to you.”

Damon ignored the caution, his wide eyes glued to the skies. “The little one’s coming too! Look, Jaime!”

Jaime squinted upward, watching as the juvenile dragon darted closer to Viserion, the smaller beast letting out an excited screech as it attempted to keep pace. “It seems even dragons can’t bear to part with her,” Jaime muttered.

Tywin’s lip curled faintly, though whether in irritation or amusement, it was difficult to tell. “The young dragon was never meant to remain on Dragonstone. It follows instinct, nothing more.”

Jaime smirked, glancing sideways at his father. “Instinct or not, it’s impressive. You’ve managed to keep not one but two dragons from turning this fleet into kindling.”

Tywin didn’t respond immediately, his gaze flickering to the horizon where Dragonstone was becoming a distant silhouette. “Discipline keeps them in line,” he said finally, his tone as cold and sharp as ever. “Nothing more.”

Jaime let out a soft laugh, folding his arms across his chest. “Discipline, yes. But let’s not forget who truly holds their loyalty. It’s not the lion they follow, Father. It’s her.”

Tywin’s eyes narrowed slightly, but he did not deign to reply. Instead, he turned his attention back to the sky, where Viserion let out a thunderous roar, her armored form glinting like a second sun. You, perched atop her saddle, cut a striking figure against the vast expanse of blue, your hair streaming behind you as the dragon turned in a wide arc.

“She’s flying ahead,” Jaime observed as Viserion began to veer toward the west, the juvenile dragon flapping furiously to keep up. “Heading to Casterly Rock already, it seems.”

Tywin’s jaw tightened slightly. “Good. Let her secure their loyalty there.”

Jaime’s brows lifted. “You speak as if it’s ever in question. Have you seen how your men look at her? How the lords whisper her name? They call her the Dragon Queen of Casterly Rock.”

Tywin’s stern gaze flickered to Jaime. “Enough.”

Jaime raised his hands in mock surrender. “As you wish. But I’m just saying, she’s done what no one else could. Dragons flying under Lannister banners? That’s a tale even the poets couldn’t invent.”

Damon tugged at Tywin’s cloak, his small face alight with excitement. “Papa! Can we fly with Mama next time? I want to ride the little one!”

Tywin crouched slightly, placing a firm but gentle hand on his son’s shoulder. “Not today, Damon. But one day, perhaps.”

Damon’s pout was short-lived as another roar echoed from the sky, drawing his attention back to the dragons. The juvenile let out a playful screech, twirling midair as if to show off its agility. Damon clapped his hands, giggling. “It’s so fast!”

Tywin straightened, his expression unreadable as he watched the dragons fade into the distance. Beside him, Jaime shook his head, a faint smile playing at his lips.

“You know,” Jaime said, his tone light, “you may not say it, but I think you’re proud of her.”

Tywin’s gaze didn’t waver. “Pride is irrelevant. She fulfills her role.”

Jaime chuckled, tipping his head toward Damon, who was now chattering excitedly with the servants about dragons and castles. “And what about him? Does he fulfill his role?”

For the first time, Tywin’s expression softened, if only slightly. “He will. In time.”

Jaime nodded, watching his father closely. “And the little one?”

“Maelor will have his place,” Tywin said simply. “As will they all.”

The sound of the waves filled the silence that followed, the ship slicing through the sea as it carried them westward. Overhead, the cries of dragons faded, their shadowed forms disappearing beyond the horizon.

“You’re building quite the legacy, Father,” Jaime said quietly. “A lion with a dragon at its side.”

Tywin didn’t reply, but there was a glint in his eye, a flicker of something between satisfaction and determination. As the ship pressed on, carrying them closer to the shore, the weight of their ambitions hung heavy in the salt-laden air.

The courtyard of Casterly Rock was filled with activity when the shadow swept over the towering walls. For a moment, the sun was blotted out, and the low rumble of beating wings sent a shiver through the gathered servants, guards, and residents. Heads snapped upward in unison, eyes widening as the enormous form of Viserion descended from the sky. Behind her, a smaller dragon darted through the air, its movements agile as it screeched a warning to the onlookers below.

A roar erupted from Viserion as she stretched her massive wings wide, the gust of her landing scattering hay, loose parchment, and the cloaks of those too close. The black dragon landed moments later, its claws scraping against the stone, leaving deep gouges in the ground.

The panic was instantaneous.

“Dragons!” a servant screamed, dropping a basket of apples as she fled toward the keep.

“Stay back!” barked a Lannister guard, drawing his sword even as his hands trembled. The clinking of armor was drowned out by the chorus of gasps, shouts, and hurried footsteps as the courtyard dissolved into chaos.

You dismounted gracefully from Viserion’s saddle. Despite the uproar, your expression was calm, your movements deliberate. With a firm pat on Viserion’s armored flank, you whispered something in High Valyrian, and the she-dragon rumbled in response, her eyes flickering toward the crowd as if daring anyone to come closer.

“Hold your ground!” you commanded sharply, your voice cutting through the cacophony. The guards hesitated but obeyed, though their swords remained drawn.

The juvenile dragon, however, was less composed. It hissed at the nearest guards, its tail lashing out to knock over a cart of barrels. The loud crack of splintering wood sent another wave of panic through the onlookers. You turned quickly, your voice firm yet soothing.

“Easy, little one,” you murmured, stepping toward the smaller dragon. It tilted its head toward you, its red eyes narrowing before it let out a low growl, reluctantly retreating a few paces.

A faint, almost amused smile tugged at your lips as you turned back to the crowd. “There is no danger. They are with me.”

Your words were met with uneasy silence, save for the soft creak of armor as the guards shifted uncomfortably.

A bold steward, his face pale but determined, stepped forward. “My lady,” he began cautiously, his voice trembling. “What are they doing here?”

“We are returning to our home,” you replied simply, glancing over your shoulder as both dragons began to retreat. Viserion turned first, her massive frame lumbering toward the entrance of an abandoned mine beneath the Rock, a place Tywin had ordered cleared years ago. The black dragon followed hesitantly, casting one last fiery glare at the onlookers before scuttling after her.

“Under the Rock again?” the steward stammered, watching as the dragons disappeared into the shadows. “That... that cannot be safe!”

You turned to face him fully, your expression unyielding. “Viserion has made her lair there before. She will ensure her youngling is safe. You have nothing to fear so long as they are not provoked.”

The steward looked as though he wanted to argue but thought better of it, stepping back with a bow. The other servants and guards began to settle, though the unease in the air was felt.

With the immediate panic subsiding, you turned and began walking toward the keep, your steps purposeful. The guards who had drawn their swords sheathed them reluctantly, exchanging nervous glances as they watched your retreating form. Behind you, the distant sound of dragons settling into their lair echoed faintly, a reminder of the power now residing beneath Casterly Rock once more.

The banners of House Lannister fluttered in the warm breeze as Tywin’s procession wound its way through the gates of Casterly Rock. The golden lion on crimson flapped proudly, a stark reminder of the power and legacy that had returned to the seat of their ancestral home. The courtyard was a flurry of activity, with servants rushing to arrange the arrival and guards standing at attention as the wagons, horses, and carriages rolled in.

You stood at the top of the stairs, your silver hair catching the sunlight, a calm yet warm expression on your face as you waited. Viserion’s occasional distant roars from her lair below the Rock echoed faintly in the background, but the arrival of Tywin’s retinue dominated the moment.

When the grandest of the carriages stopped, the door swung open, and Damon leaped out with boundless energy. “Mama!” he shouted gleefully, his curls bouncing as he darted across the courtyard.

“Lord Damon!” a frantic servant called, hurrying after him while trying not to trip over her skirts. Behind her, another servant carefully cradled Maelor, who squirmed in curiosity at the commotion.

You descended the stairs quickly, your arms open just in time to catch Damon as he flung himself at you. “My little warrior,” you said warmly, lifting him with ease. “You’ve grown restless on the road, haven’t you?”

Damon laughed, his small hands clutching at your shoulders as he grinned up at you. “I missed you, Mama!”

“And I missed you,” you replied, planting a gentle kiss on his forehead. His laughter melted your heart, the sound a welcome reprieve from the heavy discussions and plans that had dominated the past weeks.

From the carriage, Tywin Lannister emerged, his presence as commanding as ever. Dressed in his travel armor, his sharp green eyes surveyed the courtyard, noting the orderly chaos of the welcoming party. His gaze softened just slightly as he watched you embrace Damon.

“Welcome home, my lord,” you called, still holding Damon as you turned to greet Tywin.

Tywin strode forward, the faintest curve of a smile gracing his lips. “It seems I’m not the one you’ve been waiting for,” he remarked, nodding toward Damon, who was nestled contentedly in your arms.

“I’ve waited for all of you,” you replied, your tone affectionate but composed.

The servant carrying Maelor approached cautiously, the little boy reaching toward you with grabby hands. “Mama,” he babbled, his chubby face breaking into a wide smile.

You shifted Damon onto your hip and reached for Maelor, cradling him in your other arm. “And here’s my other little lion,” you said softly, kissing Maelor’s forehead. “Have you been a good boy for your father?”

Tywin’s gaze lingered on the scene for a moment, a rare flicker of warmth in his otherwise impassive demeanor. “He has,” Tywin said, his tone firm but not unkind. “Though Damon has certainly kept the servants on their toes.”

Damon beamed proudly. “I was brave, Papa!”

Tywin arched a brow, his expression almost amused. “Brave or mischievous?”

Damon giggled, burying his face against your shoulder. “Both,” he whispered conspiratorially, making you laugh.

Tywin stepped closer, placing a hand on Damon’s head briefly before turning his attention to you. “You’ve kept everything in order during my absence, I trust.”

“Of course,” you replied smoothly, shifting Maelor slightly as he reached for a strand of your hair. “Though it’s not the same without you here.”

Tywin nodded, his gaze steady but filled with a subtle pride. “Then let us not waste time. There is much to discuss.”

You inclined your head, your smile softening as you turned to lead the way back into the keep. Damon squirmed in your arms, eager to recount every detail of the journey, while Maelor babbled happily, seemingly just content to be close to you.

As you entered the cool halls of Casterly Rock, Tywin walked beside you, his imposing presence a constant but reassuring force. Behind you, the servants and guards followed, the air buzzing with the energy of a family reunited and a household settling back into its rhythm.

The council chamber of Casterly Rock was lit by the soft glow of lanterns, the stone walls adorned with tapestries bearing the lion of House Lannister. Tywin sat at the head of the long oak table, his hands steepled before him, his piercing green gaze sweeping over those gathered. Beside him, his brother Kevan, ever the loyal second, listened intently, while Jaime leaned back in his chair, his hand resting casually on the armrest. Around them, several bannermen and Maester Aldren awaited Tywin’s words.

The room was silent, save for the faint crackle of the hearth, as Tywin began. “The realm requires stability, and stability begins with order. It is time for certain... lapses to be corrected.”

His eyes shifted to Jaime, who straightened slightly, sensing what was coming.

“Jaime,” Tywin continued, his tone calm but authoritative, “you will return to King’s Landing and resume your duties as a knight of the Kingsguard. Your place is at King Tommen’s side.”

Jaime frowned, leaning forward. “I’ve served the crown long enough, Father. Let someone else babysit the boy.”

Tywin’s gaze hardened, his tone cutting. “You swore an oath, Jaime. One you have neglected for too long. The Kingsguard is not a convenience you abandon when it no longer suits you. I've offered you a choice to leave once, and you refused it. Tommen is your king, and your duty is to protect him.”

Jaime opened his mouth to protest further, but Tywin raised a hand, silencing him. “This is not a matter for debate. You will return to the capital.”

Jaime’s jaw tightened, his frustration evident. “And leave you here? With everything happening? Daenerys breathing down our necks, dragons circling the skies, with winter—”

“Do not presume to question me,” Tywin interrupted suddenly, his voice like steel. “I have managed the affairs of this realm long before you were born, and I will continue to do so. Your place is in King’s Landing, where you will ensure the boy remains safe and the crown secure.”

Kevan nodded slightly, offering quiet support. “The capital needs a strong hand, Jaime. You are the best man for the task.”

Jaime scoffed, glancing at his uncle. “And what about Cersei? She’s been quiet for too long. That usually means she’s scheming.”

Tywin’s lips curled into a faint, humorless smile. “Precisely why you must keep an eye on her. She is not to overstep her bounds again. The last thing we need is another of her... miscalculations.”

The mention of Cersei hung heavily in the air, and Jaime shifted uncomfortably. “She’s my sister, Father.”

“She is a Lannister,” Tywin said coldly, his gaze unwavering. “And she will act in the interests of this family, whether by her own will or by force. You will ensure her compliance.”

Jaime’s golden hand clenched slightly on the armrest. “And if she doesn’t comply?”

Tywin’s expression didn’t change, his tone as unyielding as ever. “Then remind her of the consequences of failure. Quietly, if possible. Firmly, if necessary.”

The other bannermen exchanging uneasy glances. Maester Aldren coughed lightly, breaking the silence. “If I may, my lord, the Queen Mother has been... difficult to predict of late. It would be wise to ensure her movements are monitored.”

Tywin nodded curtly. “See that it’s done.”

Jaime exhaled through his nose, leaning back in his chair with a resigned expression. “So that’s it, then? I’m being sent back to play nursemaid and spy?”

“You are being sent to do your duty,” Tywin corrected. “As you should have been doing all along.”

Jaime shook his head but said nothing further, knowing there was no point in arguing. Tywin’s word was final.

Satisfied, Tywin turned his attention to the rest of the council. “See to it that preparations for the Rock’s defenses are completed. Daenerys Targaryen’s forces are to be watched, and we cannot afford to be caught unprepared. Kevan, oversee the supply lines.”

Kevan inclined his head. “Of course, my lord.”

Tywin’s gaze swept over the room one last time, ensuring his orders were understood. “This council is dismissed.”

The bannermen rose, murmuring their acknowledgments as they filed out, leaving Tywin, Jaime, and Kevan alone. Jaime lingered for a moment, watching his father with a mix of frustration and resignation.

“You never change, do you?” Jaime said quietly, almost to himself.

Tywin looked at him, his expression unreadable. “And that is why this family endures.”

With that, Tywin rose, signaling the end of the conversation. Jaime remained seated for a moment longer before standing and following Kevan out, the weight of his father’s expectations pressing heavily on his shoulders.

The chamber was bathed in the soft glow of the hearth, the crackling flames the only source of warmth against the bitter chill that seeped into every corner of Casterly Rock. The heavy fur blankets barely warded off the creeping cold of winter's breath, which had now reached even the great western fortress. Tywin Lannister lay beside you, his stern features softened in the flickering light. The room was quiet, save for the distant howl of the wind outside, its mournful song carrying through the stone walls.

You lay with your head resting on his chest, his arm loosely draped around you. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat was a grounding presence in the eerie stillness of the night. Winter had come, and its grip was tightening with every passing day.

“It feels as if the sun is afraid to rise,” you murmured, your voice low but carrying the weight of your thoughts. “The day barely exists now. Soon, it will vanish altogether.”

Tywin’s hand trailed idly along your back, his touch as firm and deliberate as always. “The sun will return, as it always does,” he replied, his voice calm but resolute. “Winter is a season, nothing more. It is the weak who fall victim to its cold.”

You tilted your head to look up at him, your silver hair spilling across his chest like moonlight. “And yet, even here, winter reaches us. This cold... it’s unlike any I’ve felt before.”

Tywin’s gaze met yours, his green eyes unwavering. “The cold is a reminder of what’s to come. We must remain strong, vigilant. Weakness is not an option.”

You smiled faintly, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “You speak as though the cold can be fought with swords and strategies. But what if it’s more than that? What if it’s the beginning of something we cannot control?”

He studied you for a long moment, his fingers brushing a strand of hair from your face. “If it is, then we adapt. We do what is necessary to survive. That is what we have always done.”

A silence settled between you, broken only by the occasional pop of the fire. You closed your eyes briefly, letting yourself savor the rare intimacy of the moment. Tywin was not a man prone to displays of affection, but here, in the privacy of your shared chamber, he allowed himself these moments with you.

“Daenerys has halted all negotiations,” you said after a time, your voice quieter now. “The seas around Dragonstone are freezing. She knows her armies cannot march in this weather.”

Tywin’s expression didn’t change, though his fingers tightened slightly against your skin. “She hesitates because she knows the odds are against her. The Targaryen name alone won’t save her from the realities of war.”

You hesitated before speaking again, your tone careful. “And yet, the winds of winter favor no one. Even her dragons are at a disadvantage in this cold.”

Tywin let out a low, contemplative hum. “The dragons will adapt, as they always have. The question is whether their riders will. Daenerys was a fool to bring her foreign armies here, thinking the realm would bow to her name. She underestimated the North and overestimated her position.”

You traced a finger along the scar on his chest, your touch absent as your mind turned over his words. “She is my sister,” you said softly, almost to yourself. “And yet, she feels like a stranger.”

“She is a threat,” Tywin countered, his voice firm. “Do not let sentiment cloud your judgment. Her arrival disrupted everything we’ve worked to secure.”

You met his gaze again, your eyes searching his. “And if she were to turn her dragons against us?”

Tywin’s lips curved into the faintest hint of a smirk. “Then she will learn the hard way that dragons alone do not win wars.”

You sighed, resting your head back against his chest. The fire crackled, and the wind howled louder outside, as if in agreement with his words. The weight of the world pressed heavily on your shoulders, but here, in this moment, you allowed yourself to rest.

“We should sleep,” you murmured, though sleep felt distant, like the sun.

Tywin’s hand moved to your waist, his touch grounding and deliberate. “Rest if you can. Tomorrow will demand much of us.”

You nodded faintly, closing your eyes as the firelight danced across the room. The cold was relentless, but for now, in the warmth of his arms, you felt shielded—if only for a fleeting moment.

[leashybebes]

not trying to add to the pressure but. leashy. i have to express to you my undying love for allying. i genuinely think about that fic so much, when i'm at work, trying to fall asleep, anywhere you could think of. i adore this version of buck and tommy, like it's very clearly them but it's also distinctly not canon current day bucktommy, and i think you perfectly captured the dynamic that would exist between pre-118 buck and barely post-118 tommy. even if i didn't already love bucktommy i think i would be obsessed with these two guys and their relationship / story bc omg they're just so tiny and sweet and adorable and hilarious (and a little stupid, buck). i haven't been this excited about updates to a fic for a while, so thank you and i have 100% faith in you that you'll wrap it up in a satisfying way. either way pressure's off because it's already so brilliant as it is that you can't really go wrong. i'm so intrigued as to what tommy's been thinking this whole time, every time buck says something stupid and insane and incredibly not straight and tommy's eyes just go wide for a second before being like "yeah... okay then, sure" i'm screaming like how are you even putting up with this loser without grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him like dude. like does he know?? does he actually believe buck's straight? not likely but the guy seems pretty secure of himself so you never know. does he think he's ever gonna work it out or has he accepted that it's never gonna happen? the switch to tommy being the oblivious one all of a sudden is hilarious, he's entirely unphased by any of buck's antics atp because he's basically already been dating him for months. anyways just wanted to know that reading that snippet absolutely made my day, i'm so excited to read the last chapter in its entirety whenever that does come 💕

💛💛💛james!!!💛💛💛

this was such a gorgeous message to receive, i appreciate you so much! i'm so flattered that this ridiculous fic arising from a peep show gag has made such an impression on you

so far this chapter has like...2.2k words and none of them are the two of them actually communicating (canon lol) so tommy's internal processes are still largely a mystery to me but my overall feeling is yes he believes buck a) because they are dumbass4dumbass and b) because when he mentioned the four dudes he's slept with in chapter 1 he wasn't including the straight guys he jerked off with in the army so like. sure, a dude can touch another dude and not be queer, that is something that absolutely computes for him.

as i said, i don't have any of their actual conversation written yet (wish them/me luck) but in my head it goes something like this

buck, finally resorting to spelling it out: i would like to date you romantic style. i want to hold your hand and bring you breakfast in bed and buy you flowers (romance 101 baybee!) tommy, bluescreening internally: but...you're straight?

and then buck does this face

(christ, the amount of time i spent trying to find a gif of what i thought was the most memed hemsworth face of all time lol)

ANYWAY thank you so much for enabling my yapping and loving this fic and just generally being such an absolute sweetheart 🥰

[lyneylover]

Yandere! Lyney royalty Au♡

Synopsis: lyney is a street magician that you seen 3 weeks before your birthday. After your dad sees you mesmerized by his magic show he decides to buy lyney and his siblings to be your personal magicians. Little did your dad know that this would be the biggest mistake he ever made.

Word count: 569

So picture this!

Originally lyney was just a street performer with his twin sister and sometimes his little brother as well.

But that all changed as soon as you came to one of his magic shows.

You were amazed by his tricks and enjoyed watching them. Genuinely having a good time watching his show.

It wasn't everyday that the princess of the l/n family actually seemed extremely impressed by magicians. Many have tried but failed since you were always able to tell what illusion they used.

But there was something about lyney and his sister lynette's magic that made you hypnotized.

By the time the show was officially over you seemed disappointed.

Noticing your disappointment your dad has the brilliant idea to buy the 3 magicians for your upcoming birthday as a surprise.

After that magic show everything seemed so boring but 3 weeks later you got the biggest surprise of your life.

The day of your 18th birthday arrived.

Like any other birthday you had there were lots of gifts.

But something was different this time. This time your dad presented you with something you'd never expect.

There stood the three magicians.

Standing right in front of you was lyney, lynette, and freminet.

In that moment you were frozen and bubbling with excitement. You quickly ran over to your dad hugging him and thanking.

But little did you know that lyney was smitten by you.

The second he saw you at his magic show he felt you stole his heart away. The twinkle in your eyes when he made something disappear and reappear or how he drew the exact same card that a person showed the crowd.

Usually lyney wouldn't let anyone buy him and his siblings so when your dad asked him he was going to say no but then realized that the same man he was going to decline was your father.

Lyney uses this as a way to get closer to you knowing that he's only a mere magician and you're a princess. So he automatically yes not wanting to leave his siblings he told the king that he would only go if he bought all three of them for $100 a piece.

When lyney saw you he felt giddy inside. He was mesmerized by your beautiful features your pretty eyes, your soft looking hair, your plump lips everything about you made him blush.

This didn't go unnoticed by Lynette and freminet though.

After a month of being your personal magician he finally tells his siblings about his feelings for you hoping that they would help him with the master plan he thought up.

When Lynette and freminet finally agree lyney is ecstatic.

A week later they put Lyney's plan in motion.

At dinner lynette slips something in everyone's drink that'll make them tired.

When everyone is finally asleep lyney sneaks into your room covering your mouth before waiting for freminet to appear.

When freminet gets there they all quietly bring you to the escape carriage they had prepared earlier.

They all quickly run back inside to trash your room and their rooms to make it look like a kidnapping. With the money they had gotten from the king they took you far across fontaine where he would never find you.

The next day the king was furious. He thought someone kidnapped his magicians and his precious only daughter.

The king looked for them for months but not a trace of them was ever found.

Lyney could finally be with the love of his life.

I hope you guys enjoyed this! Sorry I haven't been posting I've had writers block but I'm finally back on track! And I'm currently completing my first hotaru haganezuka request but I thought I would post my little brainrot for you guys<3 Also should i post a part two with yan! personal detective Heizou looking for reader?

[isthepame]

Interview with Takuya Eguchi, voice of Kenyu Yukimiya in Blue Lock

(Originally published in Animedia on 9 November 2024)

What’s your impression of Kenyu Yukimiya, the character you voice?

T. Eguchi: Yukimiya isn’t just a footballer. He’s also a model, which gives him a fresh, approachable vibe. He’s got a pleasant personality and carries himself well. You can see in his interactions with Ego (Jinpachi) that he’s comfortable asking questions, which made me think that his modelling background might have helped him develop the ability to speak openly with adults, listen to their views, and express his own thoughts clearly.

Within the world of Blue Lock, Yukimiya actually stands out as someone quite grounded and level-headed. He’s able to maintain healthy relationships with those around him, which really sets him apart as a calm and sensible presence in such an intense environment.

That said, once he’s on the pitch, he becomes incredibly cool-headed and calculating. He has a very pragmatic approach. If he sees a chance to score, he’ll seize it without hesitation. He clearly trusts in his own speed, and you can tell just how confident he is in his abilities. During the aptitude test, he really acted as the central figure of the team, stirring up the game and bringing a lot of energy and movement to the match.

Q: Both you and Yukimiya are tall and have a good sense of style. Is there anything else you two have in common?

T. Eguchi: Hmm, honestly, I don't think we have much else in common. I’m not very good with competition (laughs). That makes it hard for me to relate to the mindset of athletes. The sheer determination it takes to put everything on the line, the obsession with winning, that intense drive when facing a rival... Those are emotions we see a lot in Blue Lock, but I don’t really experience them in everyday life.

That’s precisely why I’m so grateful to be able to voice such a passionate and strong-willed character in this story. It’s something I’d never get to live out otherwise.

During the trayouts, several new players were introduced, including members of Blue Lock. Was there anyone who stood out to you personally?

T. Eguchi: Yes, Jyubei Aryu. He’s fascinated me ever since I read the manga. You can never quite tell what he’s thinking, and that mystery really draws you in (laughs). The way he expresses his individuality is so unique, don’t you think? That whole “Oshare” vibe is just brilliant.

From Episode 6 onwards, the match against Japan’s U-20 national team finally begins. What can you tell us about Yukimiya’s performance and what should viewers be looking out for in the upcoming episodes?

T. Eguchi: Up until now, I think a lot of people still don’t have a full sense of who Yukimiya really is. So I’d recommend focusing on his playing style first — that’s where you’ll start to get glimpses of his character.

The episodes ahead are packed with excitement and powerful moments that’ll keep you on the edge of your seat. I really hope everyone enjoys what’s coming.

Translation done by me (isthepame) on the X/Twitter platform.

[stevenbasic]

Growing into the Job, Post 429: Hi Again, Jerry...p2

“Hiiii there…” Shanette purred as she, Josie and Katie stepped into the room to join me and this man. He had come to the office looking for a job, his hair slicked back and dressed in a polo shirt, trying to look presentable. Shanette and the others had known him from before, “It’s so nice to see you again…Jerry.”

The name rolled around her tongue and immediately I felt the energy coming from the three of them. They were buzzing, bulging, bursting with it. 

“Yeah hi Jerry,” Katie cooed, her eyes flashing. She tossed her mane of bleach blonde hair over her shoulder and closed the door behind them. She glanced back over her shoulder for a moment, her brilliant eyes locking onto his. I saw her struggle, like we all did some times, to hold back some newly awakened ability. 

The man, caught in her gaze, had not replied. His face had gone wide in disbelief. When I had greeted him earlier at the entrance of the building his face, I think, had done something similar. I had felt his gaze go from my feet, up my figure, and finally to my face. He was impressed, stunned by my body, but now, in front of  these three girls, he was apparently shocked even more. He had known them before, and now they looked so much different.

“Thanks for bringing him in, Lakshmi,” Shanette finished. She and Josie, like myself, were both dressed in pink scrubs while Katie wore a pink blouse and black pencil skirt. Pink was the uniform of the day, for the ribbon-cutting, at Melissa’s request.

“Yes, Lakshmi, thank you,” followed Josie. She was carrying a clipboard, one I recognized from the front desk. She was seemingly all business, but she was also chewing gum, which was unusual for her. Come to think of it, no one called me by my full name around the office anymore. Instead they had all taken to nicknames: ‘Kiki’, ‘Keeks’, ‘BoomBoom’ haha. It made me think that they all wanted to come across as very serious here. Professional. Despite the fact that I knew they were all just about ready to pop with excitement, they needed to look cool. Calm. Collected. Josie stepped right up to him. He was not a short guy, but Josie, at her new height, easily stood eye to eye with him - and though she was much younger she came across as taller, more authoritative.

Her commanding presence obviously shocked him, and seeing this her smile became crooked and she fixed him with a smoldering glare, sizing him up. She was more than likely twenty years younger than him and she used to be his office girl. Now, though, she certainly carried the weight of more authority. We all did. “Hi Jerry,” she purred, looking right into his eyes, “You're quiet. Aren’t you going to say hello?”

“H-h-hi Josie,” the man stammered. He was obviously nervous. He had been nervous this whole time. Melissa had asked me to  bring him here so he could do his job interview with Josie, Shanette and Katie. I had also been told to get some equipment ready; it was right here in the room with us allowing me the excuse to watch from the other side of the room as I worked on the device’s settings. We were in one of the procedure rooms in the Aesthetics Department, part of the new wing. No windows, or notable features, only sterile, white walls.

Katie stepped right up to him, followed by Shanette. I could read it in the two of them, and in Josie as well, the moment they all realized how much taller they were than him. They were excited.

Josie had told me that this guy, Jerry Miller, was their old boss. All three of them, along with Randi, Amelia, Stephanie, and of course Melissa had been salespeople and office workers over at the car dealership.That was before Melissa was hired here. Mr. Miller was, at the time, the General Manager there and, with the way the girls talked about him, he sounded like he was quite a di-....kind of a perv-....not all that easy to work for. Anyway, soon after Melissa became our Office Manager, she offered all of the girls new jobs, and brought them over to FHMA..  “How long has it been Jerry? Since we last seen each other? Two months?” Katie asked, reaching up to take hold of the collar of his navy-blue ‘Wellspring Honda’ polo. Standing at almost 6’4” in her white heels she towered over him by nearly six inches, and he was struggling already to keep her gaze and not glance down the open neckline of her pink, silken blouse. We all had big boobs now; Katie’s were big originally and now were some of the biggest. They seemed to be too much for the poor man to handle. “Obviously, a lot has changed,” Katie snickered as she pushed out her chest.

“Yeah, have you gotten shorter?” Shanette asked, fighting back a sly grin and squishing up to his side. She, unlike Katie, did not need heels to dwarf him. After Melissa, Shanette was the tallest of all of us. Even in her white clinic sneakers she stood at 6’3”. Her breasts were maybe the biggest too. She looked down on him, her eyes taking his gaze from Katie, and put a hand on his right shoulder. “Honestly, Jerry, you seem shorter.”

Mr. Miller, of course, had not gotten any shorter. These three girls, however - his ex-employees - had all grown taller. Much taller. They surrounded him, now, encircling him like a pride of huge, majestically gorgeous lionesses around a trembling deer. 

“So, Jerry,” Josie asked, a mischievous smile curling the edge of her lips as she looked down at her clipboard, slowly pulling a pen out from behind her ear, “we have some questions.” Glancing over from across the room, I could see the paper on the board myself: it was blank. They knew what they were going to do already;  they just wanted this “job interview” to look official. “Tell us, why do you want to work for Far Horizons…?”

“Yeah, Jerry,” Katie growled, she-lion that she was, “we used to work for you…” She bit her lower lip again and, with a fetching display of well-practiced flirtatiousness, straightened his collar and ran a single, manicured finger down his chest. The poor man obviously stood no chance. Her hair was so big and so blond, her heavy makeup was flawless warpaint. “…why exactly do you want to come and work for us?”

“It’s Melissa isn’t it?” Shanette answered for him, pushing herself into his shoulder and causing the man to visibly shudder. “You always liked talking to us at work, chatting us up, bothering us at our desks,” she continued, “but you were obsessed with Missy.”

“You really were…” purred Katie, running her fingers back up the shorter man’s chest, to cup his chin. 

“And you saw her on the news, didn’t you?” Josie asked, pretending to scribble something down onto the clipboard. Between Josie, Shanette, and Katie they had him nearly sandwiched. “You saw her interview, you saw how gorgeous she’s gotten, and-“

“And you wanted to see her again, didn’t you, Jerry?” Shanette pressed. Her breasts were now visibly squashed around his right shoulder, and the man was beginning to melt. The perfumes of all three of them - mine too, to be honest - hung in a cloud around him. 

I knew a little about what was happening, I had begun to come to some conclusions myself. These perfumes were pheromones, and we all made them. They were similar to ones that came from Melissa, similar to what this man, Jerry Miller, had been exposed to in the past. He had been without them, now, for several months, and he did not even know it himself but he missed them. Well, it was more like he subconsciously craved them. I had seen it in his face when he stepped into the building and took his first breath of its air. Laced with artificial pheromones made to mimic Melissa’s, it struck him like he was a junkie taking his first hit in ages. My own enhanced, but more natural, pheromones had quickly added to the effect, and now here he was, surrounded by us. The girls, as soon as they’d stepped into the room, had let their perfumes pour out and he was now swimming in them. Sinking, drowning, to be more precise. 

They squashed in closer. 

“So, Jerry, if you’re going to leave your job and come work for Melissa here,” Josie continued, still pretending like she was writing something on her clipboard, “You should know what the job entails.”

Mr. Miller nodded.

“He seems eager to help,” Katie commented.

“He really does,” Shanette agreed.

Josie went on to describe what sort of job they could make for him, here at the new Far Horizons Evolution Center. The women, of course, were in charge, she explained, but they did have some men on payroll. Quite a few, actually, though no one saw them too much. She was describing Melissa’s “monkeys”, of course, the men in the basement, and using the term “payroll” sort of creatively. As far as I knew, the men were not being paid but just being given food and housing for their services. That, and the chance to be nearer to her.

“We have enough gardeners, and maintenance guys, and cleaner-uppers,” Josie continued, still looking down at her empty sheath of paper, flipping through it for show. She comped on her gum. “But I don’t know if we yet have someone to sweep the parking lot…”

“Yeah that guy with the weird beard does that,” Shanette said. She’d taken to slowly rubbing his back.

“Oh yeah,” Josie nodded, checking her “list”. She bit the tip of her pen, pretending to be deep in thought, “How about - valet parker. You could park our cars for us?”

“That’s that Jamaican dude,” Katie offered, still holding Mr. Miller’s chin, “the cute-ish one.”

“Oh yeah, hmmm…hm hm hm…” Josie pondered. Then she looked over at me. “How about you, Ms. Vallurupalli, what do you think? What might be a good job for little Jerry here?”

I myself had, to this point, been staying quiet. This was a moment between Mr. Miller and his former employees, who had now far outgrown him. I was being asked for an opinion, though, something he could do.

“How about the laundry?” I offered, from where I was standing, watching, near the piece of equipment I’d soon be asked to use on him, “The new girls are all moving in, like fifty of them, and we’ll be here soon. I do not think they have anyone assigned yet to the laundry room in the second sub-basement?”

“Oooo that’s a good one Ki-...Ms. Vallurupalli..!” Shanette sang.

“Yeah, would you be up for that, Jerry?” Katie beamed, “Taking care of all our clothes for us?”

“Waiiiit…You wouldn’t perv out on our bras, would you?” Shanette asked.

“Omigod he totally would,” Katie answered.

“Okay okay…” Josie nodded, pretending to look through some notes, chewing her gum noisily, “How about he just does the men’s laundry? All the monkey clothes?”

“Yeah that’d work,” Shanette agreed.

“They each have, like, two sets of those overalls, right?” Katie added, “That’s it, right, pretty simple?”

Josie looked up at him. “How about that, Jerry? Want to work in the laundry?”

“S-sure,” he agreed, with a short stammer but no hesitation.

“We’ll have to okay that with the boss,” Josie said, making some checks on the blank papers, “but I don’t think Ms. Monroe will have any problem with it.”

At the sound of Melissa’s name, Mr. Miller’s eyes widened.

“Wow, he is so far gone,” Katie muttered, smiling, cocking his face, examining him, “We should get him in some overalls right away.” She pinched his cheek, leaned in. “You are going to look so cute in them!”

Jerry Miller blushed.

“Oh, look at you, so adorable!” Shanette sang, giggling. 

“Yeah, Jerry, most men couldn’t do this, come begging for a job from the girls who used to work for him,” Josie said, regarding him, “Like, they would just melt away, thinking that their masculinity would be gone forever.”

“Yeah but not you, Jerry,” Shanette cooed, squeezing her big breasts into the quivering man, “You have true masculinity. You’re a real man.”

“Real men know their place,” Katie added. Her hands were now on her hips. 

“Real men don’t mind working for women, supporting them,” Josie smiled. She chewed on her gum slowly; it snapped in her teeth. “Do you support Ms. Monroe, Jerry?”

“Y-yeah, of course,” he stuttered. 

“I dunno…” Katie spoke, cocking her head as she looked down at him. Her eye had become wary. “Lots of men like her tits, Jerry,” she said, “Are you just one of those?”

“Yeah, Jerry…” Shanette said, backing off of his arm, “Are you?”

“N-no, I promise,” he sputtered, sounding earnest, “I…I worship M-Melissa.”

The girls got a little quiet. I had gasped. 

“Really, Jerry, you worship her?” Katie asked, the first to speak. 

“I..I do,” he answered. He hadn’t even hesitated. 

The girls, and me…we all looked at one another. 

“Ready to, like, do anything for her?” Shanette asked. 

“Y-yeah,” he promised. “for sure.”

At that, suddenly, Josie spit out her gum. It hit Katie’s shoe, stuck to it. . 

Katie gasped, barked a laugh. 

“Go down there and pick it up,” Josie said, to Jerry. 

“Wh-what?” 

“Go ahead…” Shanette nodded, as Katie just stood, now straighter, and smiled, “get down and pick it up.”

“Yeah, you don’t think Ms. Monroe would want one of her best friends to have gum on her shoe, would you?”

“No, definitely not,” purred Shanette. 

I watched in amazement as, with Katie just standing there with her hands on her hips, this man crouched down, reached his hand towards the wad of g-

“No, with your mouth,” Josie ordered. 

“Josie..!” Shanette laughed. 

“Shhh…let’s see if he does it,” Josie gleamed, “C’mon, Jerry, on your knees. Get that gum off of Ms. O’Rourke’s pretty, white, high-heel shoe.”

“Yeah, on your knees,” someone said. 

Wait, that was me. 

Katie stood taller and merely watched as this man, her former boss that she knew considered her a ditzy salesgirl more useful as eye candy to draw in customers than a real member of the sales team, prostrated himself at her feet. 

“I bet you wish this was Melissa, huh?” Josie said, “Now get that gum.”

We all watched, holding back our giggles of glee, as Jerry Miller, former General Manager of Wellspring Honda, bent his lips down close to the tip of Katie’s white pump. He looked up, only to see Katie peering down her nose at him over the big swell of her chest. She was no longer smiling. 

Women are so fucking strong, I immediately thought, We are going to rule this planet. 

Jerry had paused. Perhaps he was thinking the same thing. 

“Go ahead, Jerry,” Katie told him, flatly. . 

He picked off Josie’s gum with his lips, drew it in. 

“Stop right there,” Josie said, before he could back away even an inch. “and kiss her foot.”

With no hesitation, looking up at Katie, regal in haughty placidity, he kissed her white, patent-leather shoe with a pucker and smack. 

“Again,” Josie commanded. 

He obeyed. Another kiss to her foot. 

“Good boy,” Josie said, “Now chew it.”

“Chew the gum,” Shanette told him. 

More slowly now, like a dim child, he obeyed. He began tentatively to chew Josie’s spat-out, discarded gum. He was still on his knees, and looking up at Katie. 

“Eat it,” Katie said. 

He paused. He stopped chewing. 

“Swallow it, now,” she said, commanded. 

He did as he was told, with a barely audible <gulp>.

The girls, all of us now, lauded him with purrs that had changed to growls.

“You have got the job,” someone said. 

That was me, again. 

“Kiki get it turned on,” Josie said, nodding at the large white device I’d readied for him. “And stand up, Jerry,” she ordered, “Where do you want him?”

“He can stand right there,” I answered, as the girls pulled Mr. Miller up to his feet. I was concentrating, having only learned how to use this device last week. I could tell he was looking at me as I prepared the unit, checking the settings on the handheld. My woman’s intuition, though, told me that instead of looking at what I was preparing to use on him, the man was staring at my butt. They all seemed to, these days. Sometimes, even at my normal weight, I felt like my rear end had its own gravity, and they were all drawn to it. 

I turned, and stepped towards him. Since he had been stood up, and still surrounded by the girls who all stood taller than him, he looked more little than ever. I clicked on the device in my hand, which was attached to the larger part of the unit by a long cord, and it started humming. Suddenly he looked nervous. 

“Jerry, oh, you’re shaking,” Shanette cooed, “What is it? Are you scared of big girls?”

“Wh-what is that?” he finally asked. 

It is a Laser-assisted Galvanic Short-Wave Electrolysis Machine, I said to myself. He would not need to know that, though. “We are going to use it to shave your head,” I instead told him.

“Permanently,” Josie said. 

“It’s going to remove all your hair,” Shanette added. 

“Forever, Jerry,” finished Katie. 

While I moved the buzzing instrument I held in my hand over Jerry’s scalp,his short brown hair falling off of him while the current killed his follicles, the girls held him. His head was properly bowed and while the four of us chided him and praised his obedient compliance, he stayed quiet.  Though he had a hard time not looking at Shanette’s chest.

When I was almost done, his head nearly bald, Katie spoke up to him. 

“You know Shanette’s got a boyfriend, Jerry,” she said. 

“Yeah I don’t know if Scottie would appreciate you looking at his girlfriend’s knockers,” Josie added. 

Shanette merely giggled. “It’s okay, Jerry, you can look down,” she purred, “In fact, I was guessing you might. Little guys like you get all weird these days when they look at women’s chests.”

I was done with his electrolysis. He would never grow hair again. 

Shanette reached out and rubbed his newly-bald pate. “Wanna get weird with us, Jerry?”

“The door’s closed, Jerry…” Josie commented. 

“You can pull down those pants…” Katie said. 

They are going to make him jerk off, right in front of us.

“Yeah you’ve got the job, you won’t need them anymore…”

“We’ve got some overalls for you…”

“…and a place in the basement, Jerry.”

“You will like it there, Mr. Miller.”

“You can worship all you want…”

======================================

[jaegeraether]

Sunsets and footballers (Part 50)

Lucy Bronze x Reader (45) & Jordan Nobbs x Leah Williamson Mini (7)

Masterlist (other parts here)

YFN was very aware of Jordan’s feelings after the bombshell admission the night before. She’d been extra quiet, deep in thought and she couldn’t blame her. She’d be doing the exact same.

Lucy was also extra-sensitive to Jordan, however that didn’t stop her from wolfing down the equivalent food for a small family.

YFN reached over and wiped some sauce off her chin with her thumb. “Slow down, Luce, the food’s not running away.”

Lucy was excited to eat, her stomach had been rumbling since that morning as they waited for Jordan to wake.

She nodded a response through a mouthful and knew she was right. It was never good to eat so quickly.

“Are you thinking a late night drive Sunday for your dinner, or will you stay in town?” YFN asked.

“I was just thinking that, actually. I’m thinking staying in London will be best.”

“My place is always free…” Lucy suggested.

“Oh, right. Thanks, Lucy. I just don’t want to be alone...”

“I agree,” YFN jumped in quickly. “So either I can stay or maybe a night with Katie and Caitlin will be a good idea?”

“Oh that’d be brilliant actually. I was also thinking of bringing Blu down.”

“Just let Carla know and drive down after training,” YFN suggested. “That’s stupid she’s making you drive all the way back for a few hours of practice.”

Jordan scoffed. “Yeah and she probably won’t even play me until late anyways.” Jordan shook her head and messaged the girls in the group chat. “Anything fun planned for Barca? You’d be racking up those air miles now!”

YFN laughed. “Oh yeah, I’m collecting those points. Um, I think the team will be celebrating after El Clasico…” she looked to Lucy who nodded, unsurprisingly mouth full. “And also it’s Ridley’s birthday so I was going to show my face there.”

“It’s Ridley’s birthday?!” Lucy asked, surprised.

“Sunday night, yeah.”

“Is she doing anything for it?”

“Oh, it’s Ridley. She’ll have Javier’s place absolutely packed to the brim with people. All the bells and whistles and celebrating.”

Lucy gave an impressed look and then a shrug. “We can stop by.”

“Just for a hello,” YFN reassured and kissed her on the cheek.

“I should warn Alexia…”

“To avoid Javier’s?”

“Or to go…her choice.”

“Isn’t she going to be at the El Clasico celebrations?”

“Probably but not for long, she’s still injured from the last game so won’t be playing. I doubt she’ll want to celebrate too long. What time is Ridley’s party?”

“Oh her parties are always 24 hours long minimum…” Lucy’s eyes widened and Jordan’s mouth dropped open. “It’s a thing,” she shrugged. She was used to it.

“Okay…well Barca celebrations won’t be until later that night. Alexia will be coming over to mine to get dressed.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah…I think she was hoping to talk to you a bit more about Ridley…”

“She is complicated…” YFN admitted.

“And you’re the only one who understands her.”

“Fair. Okay well I’m covering the Villa, Hammers game so I’m hoping to catch that 7:00pm flight but it’ll be close.”

“Need a lift?” Jordan asked.

“Yes, please. Mind driving me to the game also so I can leave Miles at Lucy’s?”

“Of course, mate!”

“So are you staying here or Katie and Caitlin’s tonight?”

“Um… I was thinking here tonight with you and theirs tomorrow…” she checked her phone. “Yeah, they’re happy for me to stay. I’ll leave Blu here and pick him up after the game.”

“How long since Leah’s seen Blu?”

Jordan paused. YFN knew Leah was close to him too. She wondered how long it had been since she’d seen him. “A while,” Jordan sighed. “I think I should cancel the dinner.”

“Not ready to talk?”

“I don’t think so. I just want a hug.”

YFN understood better than anyone.

Jordan sighed. “It’s stupid.”

“It’s not,” Lucy said before YFN could. “I’d fly across the world just to hug YFN.”

YFN softened and reached over to squeeze Lucy’s thigh, resting her hand here. She wouldn’t even attempt to hold her hand, they were too full of food.

“Really?”

Lucy nodded. “100%.”

“Would you like me to talk to her?” YFN asked. She didn’t mind being an intermediary if it meant they had time together to heal.

“Please…”

YFN messaged Leah and put her phone down to take a sip of her apple juice. Her phone buzzed. Jeez, she was quick.

Leah: That’s perfectly fine, we can still have dinner. I won’t talk, I know she’s not ready for that. Will she come over to mine for dinner?

YFN relayed the message and watched Jordan relax when she realised Leah was happy just to have her around.

“She’s not the best cook… she hates it.”

YFN: Jordan is confused as you’re quote “not the best cook.”

Leah: I hate it, but I want us to have our space away from people and I want to try for her. I’ve been learning.

YFN’s heart softened more as she told Jordan. Jordan hesitated, her lower lip trembling. “Can I bring Blu?”

YFN smiled, knowing her suggestion was taken on board. She asked Leah.

Leah: Yes, of course! I miss him. Tell her I’ll be ready anytime from 6pm onwards. The door will be unlocked. Thanks for this, YFN. I really appreciate it.

YFN: You’re welcome, Leah. You both just need the opportunity to heal and I want to help with that. I know you know this already but please step carefully. She’s fragile at the moment and doesn’t know what to think. All she knows is that she wants to be around you.

Leah: I’ll respect her space, I promise. The last thing I want to do is scare her away.

YFN replied with a heart and put her phone back on the table.

“She’ll be ready from 6pm onwards and the door’s going to be unlocked. She’s going to give you your space, Dory,” she gave her a reassuring look and felt Lucy squeeze her hand on her thigh supportively.

Jordan nodded and took a nervous sip of her coffee just as her alarm went off. “Time to go!”

She gave the pair hugs and a good luck for El Clasico, Lucy returning the well wishes. They watched her drive off, and YFN would have been more worried if she didn’t know she’d be seeing her that night.

YFN took Lucy into the new office and showed her around, the footballer being immediately swamped as they arrived. Most tried to be polite and give space, but they were all football fanatics after all. She showed her the conference rooms, main office space and her little desk. She had an office but the idea of using it still felt pretentious. She wanted to feel like she’d earnt it, which she hadn’t just yet. Lucy tried to convince her otherwise.

“You’ve done so much…and you are the boss.”

“I haven’t done enough, not yet.”

“Are you feeling guilty because you’re in Spain so much with me?”

She bit her lip. Lucy understood. That was one of her main reasons of feeling like she hadn’t earnt it. “I’ll move in there when we expand next…”

Lucy put a hand on her waist, still aware they were surrounded by most of the staff. “How about you make it a reward for covering your first round of International women’s games?”

YFN smiled, impressed. She hadn’t thought of that. She put her hand out and Lucy took it, shaking. “Agreed.”

Lucy wandered around talking to people and also spent time watching as YFN worked for a few hours. She loved watching her gather everyone and use them so efficiently and to the best of their abilities. She boosted the morale of her team and made sure they were all completely confident about their roles and what was required of them. Only when she was happy with the progress did they say their goodbyes. On the way out, YFN stopped her.

“Oh…Luce…could you sign the wall?”

Lucy tilted her head in question.

“It’s a new thing I want to start. I’ve had this wall painted our brand of purple and I was thinking it would be a cool idea if we had footballers sign it. I’m hoping to have the wall completely covered… I think it’ll be great motivation for the team to look at.”

Lucy nodded slowly, unable to stop her heart loving her even more. “It’s a great idea, little one.”

YFN smiled and handed her a yellow marker. “Anywhere you want… just leave room for other people.”

Lucy looked at the massive purple wall in front of her and laughed. “I think I can manage.”

“Oh and write your name next to it also, please.”

YFN watched as Lucy did a neat signature with her number 2 for England in it. She wrote her name under it and stepped back, grinning. She was the first, just as YFN had wanted her to be. Lucy loved being first.

Their drive to the airport was full of banter and flirting, both planning another facetime with YFN’s nan and brother, and another catch up with Lucy’s family during the next international break in two weeks’ time. It was all so… natural. The worst part was that they kept having to say goodbye to each other. It was the exact reason that her main goal to aim for was to have Lumos running seamlessly so she could move abroad to Spain to be with Lucy and zoom most of the meetings she needed to. She’d need to build up supervisors and the company first, of course, and she talked to Lucy about that. Lucy was honest about not knowing where she’d end up, and if she was going to stay at Barca. Regardless of where she went, though, YFN’s goal wouldn’t change. It would give her more freedom to work abroad and spend more time with Lucy.

They parked up at the airport and checked Lucy’s bag in. They were running on time; her flight wasn’t for another hour but she needed to get through security.

YFN looked up at Lucy, not able to stop the melancholy look on her face. Lucy stroked her fingers down her cheek, brushing over one of her dimples.

“My plane lands at 10:30pm your time,” YFN reminded her.

“I’ll be there.”

“Promise?”

Lucy nodded. “That’s dinner time in Barca, little one. Alexia and I will still be at mine getting ready.”

“Okay,” she whispered and reached up on her toes to plant the softest of kisses on Lucy’s lips as a thank you. She stepped back and saw Lucy’s eyes start to darken. She bit her lip which caught all of her girlfriend’s attention as she freed it with her thumb. Out of the blue, Lucy grabbed her arm and dragged her towards a single bathroom.

“Luce..?”

“I need you.”

YFN didn’t argue. She needed her just as bad. She let herself be tugged along, her body tingling with excitement.

“This is what you get for bringing up babies,” Lucy said as she locked the bathroom door behind them and guided her backwards, both heaving breathing as Lucy dropped her backpack.

“L…Luce?”

“Shh, shh, it’s okay, I’ll be quick,” Lucy said as she pressed her against the wall, her mouth coming down hot and needily. YFN’s hands fisted Lucy’s hair, essentially ruining that perfect low bun of hers. At first Lucy used her hands to tilt YFN’s head where she wanted it for their mouths desperately crashing against one another; Lucy’s tongue finding YFN’s quickly and teasing it. Then, her hands moved down to her pants. Without their mouths breaking apart, Lucy slipped her thumbs under her pants and underwear hanging from her hips and shoved them down just far enough to slip her hand down and feel her. God, she was desperate just to feel her. She looked so sexy in her dress at the awards. All mad at Mark. All protective of her friends and working to help them resolve their issues. Lucy had to cling to all of the strength she had just to not drag her into the bathrooms at the awards and fuck her there. People may have heard but for the first time in her life, she didn’t care. She wanted everyone to know she was hers.

“Fuck, how are you so wet?” She moaned into her mouth as she felt the patch in her underwear against her knuckles and the wet warmth of her little Australian on her fingertips as she teased her clit.

YFN pulled away from Lucy’s mouth. “Maybe it has something to do with our shower this morning.. or the breakfast we had.. or watching you get fan-girled over by my staff in our office. Or maybe it’s because it’s just you, and I love you.” She slipped a hand down Lucy’s pants and found her also in a similar state. She gave a victorious grin.

Lucy didn’t like losing. She pushed two fingers into her little Australian and watched as her body jerked, her mouth opening and eyes shutting as she whimpered. She pulled YFN’s hand out of her pants. “Not me, just you.”

Her fingers began moving, YFN unable to stop her hips rocking into Lucy’s hand as she fingered her. Her fingers gripped tighter in her hair and she pulled Lucy’s head as close as she could get her, until it was buried in her neck. She brought her lips to Lucy’s ear and let her pleasure be heard there; if Lucy wasn’t going to touch her, then YFN was sure as hell going to make sure she heard her. She wanted her own body wet and needy for the plane ride home as a reminder of her.

“F…fuck.. argh fuck Luce you’re so good to me,” she whimpered in her ear. A shiver ran up Lucy’s spine, YFN able to feel it. The footballer used her spare hand to push her pants and underwear down further until they’d slipped to the floor so she was fully naked from the waist down. YFN stepped one foot out to widen Lucy’s access, Lucy going a step further and bending to grab behind her knee and hoist it up over her hip. The wet sound of her fingers pumping in and out of her became louder that way and YFN whined as she became even more worked up, her body needing Lucy the more she had of her.

“I bet you taste so good,” Lucy growled into her neck.

YFN couldn’t help but be turned on at the sight of Lucy’s bicep flexing as she fucked her fingers in and out of her, and she grabbed it, holding onto that large muscle like a lifeline. Her nipples were hard and rubbing up against Lucy’s chest, her breathing ragged as she came close.

“You just had to look fucking gorgeous last night in that dress, didn’t you?”

YFN only responded in moans and whimpers at the feel of Lucy’s fingers curling up into that sensitive spot inside her.

“I didn’t like people staring at you,” she growled again as she nipped her ear.

“I…didn’t like people staring at you, Luce…” she admitted in between whines.

“You want my babies, huh?” Lucy asked dominantly.

YFN shivered as she remembered their conversation that morning in the shower. “L…Luce.. too soon.. ah fuck yes… too soon to be talking a….bout babies.”

Lucy scoffed against her jaw. “We both know how this ends, little one. With you and me. So let’s just start our future now, yeah?” She bit her jaw.

It was YFN’s turn to shiver at those words. Lucy was right, they were both old enough and had been through enough heartbreak and relationships to know that this is how they would end. Together.

“Y…yes…!”

Lucy was unsure whether she was whimpering at the feeling or at what she said. “Yes what?”

“Yes I w..want to have your babies, Luce… argh fuck yes please don’t stop….argh…of course I do…”

Lucy groaned into her neck at that admission. “Come, little one, I want to feel you come around my fingers.”

She sped up and at those words it didn’t take long for YFN’s body to find its release, clenching up around Lucy’s fingers so tight that the footballer moaned at the feeling that she’d just fucked into her. Her breaths stopped as she came, her fingernails digging into Lucy’s skin as that bliss overwhelmed her into state of peace.

She slumped again Lucy with a heavy exhale, a little whimper escaping her lips as she removed her fingers and brought them to her mouth, sucking them clean.

“Yeah... you taste good,” she confirmed proudly.

YFN scoffed as she did what she always did; repay kindness with kindness. She kissed Lucy’s face wherever she could reach her, little butterfly kisses to show her love and gratitude for her little desperate orgasm. Lucy hummed happily, eyes closed and accepted, manoeuvring her face so she could reach more spots. Lucy broke her gesture by kissing her on the lips. YFN leaned into the kiss for a second until she pulled back, Lucy noticing a blushing creeping up her cheeks.

“Um… I’m kind of half-naked Luce and… it’s getting cold..”

Lucy chuckled. “The sexiest Winnie the Pooh I’ve ever seen.”

That made YFN blush harder but actually laugh at the similarity as Lucy squatted down to guide her foot back into her pants and underwear and pull them up.

YFN stopped her before they were up all of the way.

“Little one?”

“I need to pee..”

Lucy chucked. “You should always pee after sex. So go.”

YFN bit her lip.

“Oh come on, I’ve had my tongue inside of you before. Pee. Now.”

YFN shuffled over to pee and clean her excited self up while Lucy washed her hands in the sink and fixed her hair.

“Feel better?”

“Much,” she admitted and washed her hands before wrapping her arms around Lucy and sighing into her collarbone. She didn’t want her to go. She never did. “Are you sure I can’t make you feel good too?”

“No, little one, that will hold me over until tomorrow night.”

“Oh, planning on getting lucky tomorrow, are you?”

“After we win El Clasico? Of course.”

YFN slapped her back lightly. “Cocky.”

“You love me cocky,” she whispered and kissed her.

They said their goodbyes just before the security screening, the pair far too used to airport goodbyes. Luckily it wasn’t for long. She watched Lucy walk away, her black backpack hitched on her muscular shoulders, her thick clear framed glasses hidden beneath her cap and hoody. She tilted her head and couldn’t help staring at Lucy’s ass in those track pants she had on so she’d be comfy for the flight. As if she knew, Lucy turned as she walked, smiling when she realised her hunch was right and giving her a wink. YFN had to squeeze her fists tight to stop her from running and wrapping herself around her. One day. Fuck. How had they ever lasted longer?

[mothhball]

Prologue

JONATHAN CRANE X FEM!READER

summary Your mentor is unhappy with your career choices. But her worries only serve to make you more curious.

warnings none! this is just a little prologue

notes a little intro to kick things off. I'll shortly post the first chapter as well haha Also, Potomac is just a name I borrowed from the DC universe. I know it's different in the comics, so don't shoot me please <3

! MINORS DNI !

story masterlist • main masterlist • taglist • kofi word count: 1.1k

“Look… I just don’t get why you wouldn’t want to go back to Potomac. From what I’ve read in your sophomore internship review, Dr. Rabin was genuinely impressed with you and said he’d be excited to have you back for the Senior internship. What happened? I – I would’ve understood anything, really. But Arkham? You really applied there?”

Professor Campbell’s office is a time capsule. A familiar, cozy environment that you’ve been inhabiting for a whole hour per week since the start of the last semester. Decorated with undemanding potted plants and cheesy motivational posters on the walls around you. The smell of paper and hibiscus hangs in the dry air, warmed up to an almost uncomfortable temperature by the ever-running radiator mounted to the wall. Usually, your presence in this room is accompanied by a sense of inner peace. One hour per week during which you’re allowed to fantasize about a glowing future as you sit in front of your academic mentor. But today, the tiny woman with the prominent smile lines is looking at you with thinly-veiled indignation. It’s an ugly expression on her, you decide. People like Campbell are better off smiling and laughing, like the human embodiment of a Golden Retriever.

You shift in your seat, resisting the urge to gesture with your hands to avoid seeming defensive. No, you keep your posture open and inviting on purpose. The body language of a genuine person.

“Potomac Psychiatric Hospital is just not what I want,” you start, speaking gently in an effort to make her emphasize with you. “I need a challenge. I don’t want to hang around rich people with mild cases of burnout all the time.”

Professor Campbell’s face scrunches up with mild displeasure, and you feel the need to quickly correct yourself.

“No offense, of course. But my main interest does lie in… the tough cases. And there are tough cases at Potomac. Jeremiah Arkham himself called his asylum the ‘Ivy League of insanity’. And Dr. Crane used to be a professor here. You knew him, right?”

Campbell flinches, and you could swear you were able to see an expression of genuine fear in her eyes for a fraction of a second. And for that fraction of a second, you were speaking to a prey animal instead of your favorite psychology professor.

“Well… Professor Crane – Doctor Crane was a… well-known member of the faculty. By which I mean everyone knew of him and the kind of seminars he held. Nobody really knew anything about the man aside from his special interest in fear-based disorders and most likely crippling caffeine addiction. Back when I knew him, he was… eccentric to say the least. But he knew what he was teaching about. Students fled his lecture hall as soon as he was done speaking, but he really was a brilliant mind. He was a professor for a reason, after all.”

You nod along to her words, unable to stop that little spark of personal curiosity from growing and festering within you. If everything goes well, you’d be able to witness firsthand how peculiar this man is for the entire summer. Much to her dismay, Campbell’s tales only serve to encourage your decision.

“So, if the two of you knew each other, there’s already a networking opportunity here,” you conclude, folding your hands in your lap.

“Yes but –“

“Also, Arkham is right here in Gotham. I don’t have to rent a new apartment anywhere else, I already know the city, and so on and so forth.” You feel a little bad for cutting her off, but it’s almost ridiculous how much she’s trying to dissuade you from your plans. Campbell doesn’t bother to hide her displeasure anymore, letting out a sigh as she taps a manicured nail against the porcelain of her teacup.

“Listen,” she starts, choosing her words carefully, “we’ve had many students apply to Arkham Asylum for an internship over the years. And those whose spirits didn’t get crushed during the interview were worn down by the work itself. Besides, the influx of applications is monumental. There’s no guarantee that you’ll even get invited to the interview. In my humble opinion, you should write Potomac an email and – “

“I already got invited.” Campbell’s eyes widen, and the silence prompts you to continue. It’s a little difficult to not seem smug as you speak, but you manage. “The interview is this Friday.”

“Friday…” Campbell reaches out for her cup of tea, trying to wash away the bitter taste on her tongue with a mouthful of hibiscus and apple. In that moment, you feel a little bad for the professor. She’s always tried to make time for you and dutifully offered help wherever she could. And in return, you’re acting childish, trying to incite a one-sided contest over an internship. You let out a sigh along with her, shifting in your seat; softening up.

“This is… something that’s really important to me,” you offer, trying to apologize without saying it. “Potomac was a huge help for getting into the swing of things. I… learned a lot about the basics. And for anyone else, that hospital is the perfect match. But I don’t want to graduate, secretly doubting whether I’ll ever be ready for the real work. I know Arkham is a baptism by fire. But it’s what I need.”

Campbell hums in response, stirring a third sugar cube into her tea. It’s just a habit to keep her hands busy at this point. You’re pretty sure the crystals don’t even dissolve anymore.

“Besides,” you continue, smiling at her because you know this will give her at least a shred of hope, “even though I got through to the interview, I might not even get an internship spot. So… this entire conversation might be redundant anyway.”

This gets you the response you were hoping for, and the professor nods thoughtfully as the smile you’re used to returns to her face. She sounds relieved when she answers you.

“If that should happen, I’m sure you could still send an application to Dr. Rabin and he’ll have you on his team in no time at all. Oh, why am I even worrying? You’ll figure it out.”

You nod, feeling in real time how your smile relaxes into something more genuine. Suddenly, the warmth in the room doesn’t feel oppressive anymore. As the mood switches to something more cheerful, the two of you talk some more about your final thesis before you decide to end the conversation on a good note. Campbell rises from her seat along with you, and you mirror her smile, relieved to finally be done with this interrogation. Your mentor heads to the door after you, gently patting your shoulder.

“Let me walk with you. At least until the staff lounge. I need a fresh cup of tea.”

@ellebelleshelby @cilliansprincess @mcumorningstar @x0xomady @mandies24

@detroitbecomevenom @pretty-bluebird @ink5ouls @flwrs4aust @vampmary1411

@ashdrinksoatmilk @nnattu @ptolemaniac @kiss-me-cill-me @celebrities-imagines

@hanawrites404 @ilovetoxicfictionalmen @nocturnest @biblicallyaccuratebee @red-riding-wood

@luvlloyd @ribbonystar @smxkyqvxrtz @bloodandglitter207 @seaamonster

@rosiemarieyn @sagepixieswrld

[shegatsby]

Could I ask for Hannibal lecter with a former patient reader with extreme anxiety and fear of going outside and people? Maybe a house call for this little recluse?

(Would appreciate if they were also FTM but not a requirement)

Thanks!

-B

A/N; Hi B, thanks for the request even though it had been weeks since you sent it to me... oops. I hope you'll like it. Enjoy!

Warnings; Anxiety and panic attack, reader has phobia of going outside.

You were triggered again, you had a specific nightmare last night. In the nightmare you were being chased by your stalker (you had a stalker last year so developed a certain anxiety about going out. Thankfully he is behind bars now.) in the nightmare he was holding a gun and chasing you in the public but no one helped you. Except him.  Doctor Hannibal Lecter. Due to your circumstance you sought professional help. You did a profound research about him and his techniques and you found nothing but good review. You decided to give it a shot and you didn’t regret it at all. You explained your situation to him in detail via email, he replied saying that he was glad to work with such an open minded and communicative young woman.

He urged you to go to his office for the first session but you were unwilling so you suggested to do it online, it was 45 minutes and when you were, put the laptop away… you felt a sudden relief.

The next session he suggested to go to a coffee shop near your home, you liked the idea and agreed.

It was a cold Baltimore weather so you both had gloves, long coats, he couldn’t help but notice how professional you dressed. A black pencil skirt, a dark red blouse, soft make-up, hair let loose yet kept under control and delicate hands holding your coffee mug. You were well mannered and put together. Also, your impression on him was the same as him, both of you had a mutual feeling for each other that day. Normally, Dr. Lecter had 45 minute sessions with his patients just like your first session. However, with you, it was more than 2 hours. The conversation was elite and brilliant that he didn’t want to leave that cozy place, after the session he gave you a lift and planned the next session.

Weeks passed and you started to go to his office, you had an idea about his environment but seeing it for the first time was something else. His office was like a mixture of library and museum, which both of those places were your favorite. When he saw the inquisitive shine in your eyes he let you explore.

You talked about your favorite books and art and culture etc.

You loved talking to him and he loved talking to you. Most of his patients were shallow and stupid but you knew your art and literature. After decades of being surrounded by peasants Hannibal found someone who got excited about small things and had her own brilliant opinions. Your energy was refreshing to say the least.

The nightmare you had made you paranoid, your door was locked, windows shot and curtains closed, you were in your pjs and in 45 minutes you had to be in Dr. Lecter’s office. It was impossible, you sent him an email about bot being able to make it today. Instead of replying by an email he called you directly, ‘’Hello, Dr. Lecter.’’

‘’Hello , Y/N.’’ he started, he had started to address you by your name few weeks ago and asked you to do the same but his demeanor and the way he held himself made you a bit intimidated. ‘’I hope you are well.’’ He continued, ‘’Is there a problem?’’ there was a silence. ‘’Yes, I don’t think I can come today.’’ You simply replied, covering yourself with blankets on your couch, total darkness surrounding you.

‘’Your voice sounds strange.’’ He announced, you didn’t say anything and he let a sigh of distress, He ‘’I’m coming over. Do not move.’’ And he hung up.

He knew your address, something in you kept you at your place or maybe it was his strict tone.

Some time later there was a knock on your door which made you jump from your seat, you grabbed a knife from the kitchen and walked to the door.

‘’Its me.’’ You heard his voice, ‘’You can lower your weapon of choice.’’ He added, how did he know that you were carrying a weapon?

You opened the door to him, he looked at you up and down and let himself in, closed the door and locked it. Seeing such a young and elegant woman being torn apart by her mental state made him feel something… he felt as if he was her savior.

You noticed that the second you saw him you felt safe, like a sense of warmness spreading inside of your chest.

You turned to go to the living room, he followed, this was the first time he saw your house, he was in awe of how clean and organized it was even though it was dark due to the fact that all the curtains were closed.

He sat on a single armchair, placed his leather bag next to his feet, his coat placed on his lap, you took your place among your blankets.

‘’May I ask what has made you… like this?’’ he looked around the room, ‘’I don’t want to talk about it.’’ You said like a little child.

‘’Are you hungry?’’ he asked to change the subject, you realized that you didn’t eat anything since you have woken up. He understood from your deep eyes and stood up.

Soon you heard sounds coming from the kitchen. You decided to get a sneak peek, he wore your red apron and cooking something from the things he found in your fridge. It melt your heart.

Hannibal Lecter wasn’t used to this but when he saw you like that he couldn’t help but be there for you, you were an interesting case for him and he even thought about keeping your mental health not worse but not good either so that he could keep having you in his life but it seemed like you were planning to be in his life for a long time weather as a friend, a patient or someone close..

Thank you. :)

[tryingtimi]

Books of 2024 (in no particular order)

Hi, hello dears! Since I’m out here trying to bring back things, I’ll give a shot to this one too from last year. The “rules” were to list 9 books you’ve read and loved this year, and boy I’ve got recs to gush about. (somehow I could read 40+ books which is just insane)

No pressure tagging: @bloodlessheiratnight, @the-void-writes, @barbex, @indigowriting, @aalinaaaaaa, @approximately20blorbos, @wildswrites, @dyrewrites, @odysseywritings, @jadefyre, @goldfinchwrites, @sodaliteskull, @astarlightmonbebe, @tc-doherty, @forthesanityofstorytellers and anyone who’d like to join!

So Let Them Burn by Kamilah Cole. ya fantasy, Jamaican-inspired, dragon riders, M/F and F/F focus

God I wanted to yap about this one for so long. This book literally got me back to reading, so naturally it became an instant fav and a life-changing book. And, honestly, gave me hope for some YA since I’m not the audience for those usually. The setting is as breathtaking as fresh within the genre, and the story is a very exciting one with all the dragon riding, the academy and the gods that would loan their power. Not to mention the characters which I surprisingly grown to love very much. (And man the romance part made me kick my feet and squel in excitement at some point). So yeah, give it a try please all. Like, now.

Why We Swim by Bonnie Tsui. non-fic, great audiobook, title says all

The read that rekindled my love for swimming and being in the water. A very interesting little book about incredible lives that were saved by or moved by swimming and the waters, while it also shows light on some beneficial aspects that not everyone might know. It’s a half memoir/biography too, but that part wasn’t as impactful I’d say. However the rest did make a strong impression on me so I’d recommend this to everyone who wants to know whats the swimming and water crazed people’s deal.

Jade City by Fonda Lee epic&urban fantasy, east-asian martial art movies and the godfather vibes, grimdark

And here we come with the big guns. I didn’t know this story is gonna be the second all time fav fantasy series on my list, nor that Fonda’s gonna become the tradpub female writer idol for me, but life’s just that unpredictable. Seriously, this book has me by the throat and I don’t want the grip to soften. All that you can imagine from the bleak, smoke filled gangster life to the flying-jumping double kicks of Michelle Yeoh, it’s in it. The story also very heavily leans onto the political intrigue, and lore aspect so keep that in mind. Oh and the best ever erotica (for my taste personally) is sprinkled around there casually too, so there’s that.

Penance by Eliza Clark litfic, fake-true crime, thriller

I was never a true crime girlie, but I was a litfic one. This book is kind of a satire about how true crime impacts people, especially teenage girls, and what's up with the obsession over it. It also explores where reality and fiction blurrs, and how that can impact lives. A brutal read, in my opinion, and I ate it up in two days smh. Also, I'm going to be real honest with y'all here; I was very confused at the beginning because I never read a fake investigated interview/essay before, so I completely believed it to be true (even tho I found it in the fiction genre). So yes, Eliza Clark is brilliant in that sense, will definitely check out her other books, and will never forget the true tragedy she based the crime in the book. Oh and when she brought up tumblr and tumblrinas in the book... ugh.

Cultish by Amanda Montell. non-fic, great audiobook, title says it all

2024 was the year of litfic and non-fic on my end, or at least I tried and am still trying to get back to them. This one was a very interesting book about cults and how cult leaders use language as a tool to create their communities. Or, well, not just them but everyone. I love learning about how and why we use language as we do, and I also love learning about anything cult related even tho they make my skin crawl. This book luckily did justice on both ends.

Daisy Jones & The Six by Taylor Jenkins Reid. litfic, fake-rockumentary, fleetwood mac/stevie nicks-inspired

Continuing my march on the "reading the books my favourite series and movies are based upon" journey. Daisy Jones is something that was great in book, but excellent on tv. The whole fiasco and the documentary part works better on screen I think, especially after they literally wrote, produced, sang and perfomed songs. Like what the hell. Still listening to the songs cuz some of them are peak 70s. However, the book and the series has the same vibe, so that's why I could enjoy both. (not to mention it inspired me too) What I would really highlight tho, it’s Simon’s story in the series because my god I love her so much. Sometimes even wish it would have been about her than Daisy, lol.

The Poppy War by R. F. Kuang. (ya) historical fantasy, very heavy war stuff, chinese mythology

It's not ya, okay? There are elements that match that, but overall, it's just not. What the book (and the whole series) actually is tho, is a raw portrayal and an essay about the horrors of the Second Sino-Japanese War, and what went down there, coated with a touch fantastical world and some magical/mythical elements. Loved the first book to pieces. This one might be the closest to ya, with all the academy time, the hint of enemies to whatevers, but only up until the half of the book. After that it blurrs and morphs. Still, the whole series is the most educational fantasy I've ever read, and will always keep the first book as a favourite. It's something everyone should read at least once, I think. But never ask me about the last installment.

The Red Palace by June Hur. ya historical fantasy, mystery, romance

Imagine a book that literally reads like a korean period drama. I mean, literally. Funny enough, I needed a second try to get to this book, but after that, oh man it checked all the boxes. It's easy to read, a fun little murder mystery in the palace, and a great experience if you're a kdrama junkie like me. I still think about this book from time to time, and will read all the other works from the author for sure. (fun fact: the royal family stuff are usually historically accurate because that's June Hur's whole sthick, which i love that for her)

We Will Devour The Night by Camilla Andrew. gaslamp fantasy, court intrigue, light vs dark, some impeccable erotica

We all know and love Cammie. And trust to bring an amazing next installement to the The Essence of the Equinox. I loved the book to pieces, because it contained everything I'd crave in a continuation. An interesting and gorgeous expanded world, escalating political intrigue and a ton of great character interactions. While, of course we still got to spend time with our best girl Laila, and best dick Darius.

[lilmightyrabbit]

I'm 7 episodes into Dungeon Meshi because y'all couldn't stop posting about the most aggressively autistic (positive ❤️) man that I've ever laid my scrungly little eyes upon. Who decided the best rep I've ever seen would be a golden retriever man with a special interest that goes so hard you don't even mind it's crossed over into fetish territory? If I said half the shit he's said I would be in special jail, but he's just saying the things?! Yes please, Himbo man, say every thought that comes into your brilliant stupid mind IDC if it's objectively offensive you literally meant it in a nice way. I want to hug him. I want to bite him. And you know what? He'd let me. He'd ask how he tastes. I appreciate that in a man.

Makes me wonder if my own special interest blurting would be appreciated if it helped in life or death situations? Like, we're all chained up and a minotaur is going to gore us unless someone does a really good Karkat impression? That'd be nice.

And even when he's being a badass that's still how I see it. He's so excited to share his knowledge and he's living in his element and I respect that so much. BUT he's a dork. A giant dork. Does the author know what she's created? The perfect neurodivergent man? He's also just the perfect man cause he's stronk AF but his special interest involves twirling swords around and gutting shit so he's like "mlep, 👅 😺 just did a slaughter. Now I can feed my sister's girlfriend, my 29 year old son, and my mentor ❤️ Anyways want help with your hair, Marcille?"

How? And he obviously has flaws too so he's not even a Gary stu? What? He's just so happy to live his dream and when that bites him in the ass it legit hurts?

ALSO ALSO ALSO the quiet autisitc-coded AF way he's grieving his sister and trying to maintain hope is just 👏👏👏👏 and the fact his party knows he has empathy is managing in his own way 👏👏👏👏. Friendship points out the ass. That little scene where he's like lmao guys we wouldn't be eating this if Falin didn't McFrickin die amirite? And they are like...no bub. BUT they treat it like anyone saying something kinda off base. Because they KNOW he doesn't mean it bad AND they respect him enough to make it clear that it was bad. you know? That autistic feeling of wondering when/if you said something offensive? And this is like the healthiest way for a friend to deal with that w/o blindsiding the autistic person?

Maybe it's the fact that I have literally no clue if the author herself is neurodivergent, knows people that are, or did this intentionally - but I really like when creators just stumble into good characterization of autistic people. It's not an effort or an intrusion it's who the character is and it's baked into the story naturally :) feels good man, feels good.

[momoyukirin]

Momo's "An Idol's Daily Life" Rabbitchat Part 1

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

Highly Nutritious ☆ Home-cooked meal

Tsumugi: Thank you for your hard work, Momo-san. And thank you for inviting us on “NEXT Re:vale” today!

Tsumugi: It appears that everyone enjoyed that “Make a heart flutter with pre-determined lines!” project.

Momo: Good work, Maneko-chan~! (*´∀`*)/ Recording was really fun, wasn’t it!

Momo: It was worth planning this project with the staff!

Tsumugi: All of the assigned lines on the pieces of paper that got pulled from the box were so funny that Okazaki-san and I ended up laughing a lot!

Momo: Even though lines like “I’m hungry” or “my feet are itchy” are silly, they’d whisper them in a sexy way to make them heart-pounding, so they ended up sounding really surreal and funny www*

Tsumugi: But when Idols like you all say them, they somehow sound cool, so it was rather strange!

Momo: I know right~~~~!!

Momo: My heart skipped a beat too when Yamato hugged me from behind and whispered “Do you want to add Gochujang?” (*/∇ \*)

Tsumugi: Yamato-san was in high spirits as well! lol

Momo: He really gave his all for that “Go~chu~jang” huh www

Momo: His breathing was impressive ww

Tsumugi: Mitsuki-san’s composed “What kind of situation is this!” tsukkomi* response right after was brilliant!

Momo: Right! As expected of IDOLiSH7! Their tsukkomi and boke balance is amazing!

Tsumugi: Thank you! I’m sure Mitsuki-san will be happy to hear this, so I’ll let him know!

Momo:

Tsumugi: Your heart-pounding line was also wonderful, Momo-san! The part you said “Games are only allowed for one hour a day” while kabedoning Tamaki-san!

Momo: Thank you (*´∀`)*。Though Tamaki immediately went “no way” ww

Momo: It was fun and the flow ended up being really interesting, including Sougo who came from the stage seats in a panic to try and convince me to nod and agree with him!

Momo: But it was so exciting we ended up dragging the shoot a bit longer, were you okay with the job after that?

Tsumugi: Yes! Thanks to everyone’s cooperation, we left quickly and managed to finish the shoot at the next location on schedule!

Momo: That’s a relief~! Then, are you done for the day? It’s late, so be careful going home.

Tsumugi: Thank you for your concern! I will be, I think I’ll just get some groceries for dinner and go home.

Momo: Making dinner after work is quite impressive!?

Momo: I hadn’t even thought about making anything (+･`−･´)

Tsumugi: I won’t be making anything too elaborate, but I guess I’ve just made a habit of it..!

Tsumugi: What do you usually do, Momo-san?

Momo: Usually I just get a bento or catering in the dressing room!

Momo: I order delivery on my days off _(:3」∠)_

Tsumugi: There are many kinds nowadays so it’s quite convenient, isn’t it! I also like to order sweets on my days off.

Momo: That’s nice! Like watching the movies and TV dramas you’ve been recording* with the latte and donut you got delivered in hand!

Tsumugi: That's exactly it!

Momo: (≥▽≤)/□☆□/(≥▽≤)

Tsumugi: (≥▽≤)/□☆□/(≥▽≤)

Momo: You went along with it www Thanks ww

Tsumugi:

Tsumugi: However, if you only eat bento you might get nutritional imbalance so please be careful..!

Momo: Maneko-chan, you're so kind (;∀;) Thank you ☆

Momo: Yuki invited me over today, so it’s okay (つω<")

Momo: He said that since I haven’t been eating well lately, he made beef stew with lots of vegetables!

Tsumugi: Oh! So you are at Yuki-san’s house!

Tsumugi: Making a home-cooked meal with so much thought put into it, as expected of Yuki-san!

Momo: He’s the best darling after all(o/▽`)/:*・° °・*

Momo: I thought I could help, but I was told I'm on the bench*, so now I'm just sitting quietly and waiting (´・ω・`)

Tsumugi:

Translator's notes:

1)“www” is one of the japanese equivalents to “lol” but i wanted to differentiate it from tsumugi’s “(笑)” (also “lol”) so I chose to translate hers and leave Momo’s as is, since I use “www” a lot as is myself lol

2)Anyone who’s read idolish7 content by this point probably knows this, but just in case, the “straight man” (tsukkomi) and “funny man” (boke) act is a kind of japanese comedy duo where the boke says something silly or creates a misunderstanding and the tsukkomi corrects them

3) Momo refers to the shows you can record on your tv to watch later, idk if this is a thing much anymore in the west but i do believe it is still in japan.

4)Momo basically said that Yuki told him he's off-duty but the word he uses is apparently used in sports to convey a player that was not chosen to play in the team, momo is a sportsman after all~ www