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kteezy997 · 10 months

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The Candy Man-Part One// W.W.

Warnings: Smut, mention of masturbation, male receiving oral sex, virgin Wonka, cowgirl, missionary, some dirty talk, curse words, cream pie, female receiving oral sex, oh and cheating on spouse A/n: I have not seen Wonka yet, so there are NO spoilers here!

As a young housewife, there wasn't much for you to do. You had done the housework for the week and done all the grocery shopping, and it was only Wednesday. This would make for a long, boring week.

It would be different if you had a child to look after, but sadly, that hadn't happened yet. And it may never happen if your husband continues to show such a low interest in sex. Sometimes it felt like he forgot you even existed.

You wished he would just give you a baby, if he didn't want to give you attention. That way you'd have not only something to occupy your time, but you'd also have someone to love, and for someone to love you. You weren't even sure if your husband loved you anymore. Your relationship wasn't the same as when you were first married two years ago.

These days, all you really wanted was for him to come home, rip your clothes off, and fuck you like he hadn't seen a woman in years. You wanted to feel desired, so badly. You had recently picked up a habit of touching yourself sexually while your husband was away at work. You were so starved.

.....

Autumn had come and gone by this time of the year and it was becoming quite frigid outside. With winter well on the way, you turned on your fireplace in the living room. You didn't really care for the bear skin rug that your husband insisted on having in front of the fireplace, but it wasn't worth the fight to try to get rid of it.

With the fire going, you snuggled up into a cozy sweater and put on some mindless radio station to fill in the silence of the empty house. As you listened to the radio and did some mild tidying about the room, you wondered if you should maybe get a dog, or maybe a cat.

Then the doorbell rang, that's weird. You thought. You seldom had any visitors during the day. You walked over and opened the door.

"Hello, Miss. My name is Willy Wonka! Would you care to sample some of my chocolate on this fine day?"

"Fine day? It's freezing out there," you said as you were awestruck by this man's beauty, his bright purple coat and milk chocolate-colored top hat added a sort of zany zest to his attractiveness. "um, would you care to come in and warm up for a minute?" you said politely, nodding to his briefcase that you assumed was filled with sweets, adding, "I do love chocolate."

"Why, yes, if you're sure you don't mind." he smiled, and his green eyes were dazzling.

"No, I don't mind at all, sir."

Willy took his hat off, and his curls fell downward in a bit of a mess as he stepped into the warm home. "Thank you, I didn't get your name."

"Oh, I'm y/n. Please, sit down, the fire is going."

"It is quite toasty in here, thank you, y/n." Willy said, taking a seat on the couch closest to the fireplace. “Very interesting choice of a rug, y/n.” he chirped.

“Oh that? My husband insisted on it, it’s so dreadful. But it is rather soft.”

“Hm.” he nodded looking at the luscious, dark colored fur on the floor. He then looked at her, cheerily, “So, would you like to try some?” He picked up his briefcase.

“Of course.” you said with a smile, truly wanting to try some of him instead, but you’d give his candy a chance for now. He was so damn handsome. His hair was gorgeous, you wanted to run your fingers through it, maybe even pull it.

He opened his briefcase in his lap, letting you choose which candy you wanted.

You picked a piece of chocolate, and he told you the name of it, and its special ingredients. You listened to him, but ultimately got lost in his innocent yet sexy eyes. You bit into the treat, and it was rich and velvety sweet as it melted in your mouth. It was absolutely delicious. The best candy you ever had in your life.

“Mr. Wonka, this is perfection, it’s absolutely divine.”

Willy smiled widely, “I’m pleased to hear it. I have only ever hoped that each person that tries my chocolate will have that same reaction.”

He was so genuinely confident and excited about his creation. The passion he had was evident.

“I’ll take every one of this flavor that you have, Mr. Wonka.” you said, taking another delicious bite.

“Wonderful!” he exclaimed, “And please, call me Willy.”

“Willy.” you said, softly. You wanted to moan his name. But how to get there? You improvised. “Um, why don’t you stay for a bit longer? I can put in a pot of tea, if you’d like.”

“That sounds lovely y/n, or should I call you Mrs…”

“Oh, it’s Mrs. Hudson, but you can just call me y/n.” you insisted, hopping up and going to the kitchen heating up some tea. You had to have this man. Cheating was wrong, but your husband would never, ever know. He never wanted sex anymore, but you couldn’t go without it like he did. You were so needy, especially now, after meeting the handsome Mr. Wonka.

You had plenty of time to have Willy fuck you and send him on his way with his payment for the chocolate, all before Mr. Hudson got home. You would have to make Mr. Wonka an offer he couldn’t refuse, much like you couldn’t refuse his delectable sweets.

You carried two cups of steaming, aromatic tea, one for you and one for Willy. You hoped it would warm him up properly.

“Here you are, sir.”

“Why thank you, very kindly, my lady.” he took the teacup from you, and you felt weak in your knees when your hand was briefly brushed by his fingers. You watched as he carefully brought the rim of the cup to his lips, taking a small sip. “Mm, that’s quite good. A perfect cup of tea, y/n.”

“Thank you. I’m glad you like it.” you said, sitting down next to him and taking a sip for yourself. You didn’t know how to get this man naked; you weren’t finding any viable option that wouldn’t be too crude or forward. You felt you were running out of time. You couldn’t let him leave with the risk of never seeing him again. This delightful, beautiful man could not escape you.

“Well, this has been quite the pleasure.” he said, in a farewell tone. He took one last sip of his tea.

You haven’t had the pleasure, yet.

“But I will get out if your hair,” Willy stood up, continuing, “and go about my merry way. Thank you for your-"

“Wait! Willy-" you shot up to your feet as you spoke but couldn’t finish a sentence. You just started into his eyes.

“Yes?” he asked, frowning at you, utterly confused by your behavior.

You didn’t have the words, so you threw yourself at him, kissing him hungrily.

He took ahold of you, and pulled away from the kiss, “Y/n, are you mad?”

“Oh, god! I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…”

“No, it is alright. It was kind of…nice.”

“Yeah? Mr. Wonka, I had an idea of pleasing you the way you pleased me with your chocolate. If you’ll indulge me?”

He raised his eyebrows, “I have to say, I’m intrigued.”

You put your hands on his chest, making him sit back down on the couch. Your hands then went to his fly.

“Whoa! What are you doing?” he asked, panicky.

“Shh-sh. Relax, Willy. Do you like me?”

“Ye-yes.” he trembled with nerves. “I find you very pretty.”

“I really like you. Have you…ever been with a woman before?” You rested your hands on his upper thighs, dangerously close to his member. It was visible through his trousers although he wasn’t even hard yet.

Willy shook his head, “No, ma’am.”

“Awe, don’t be scared. I’ll take care of you, okay. Do you want that, Willy?” You ran your hands slowly around the outline of his cock.

He gulped, watching your hands on his pants, “Yes, I think I would really like that.”

“Good.” You beamed, unzipping his trousers, and pulling his cock out. He was much thicker and longer than your husband. You were excited about being Willy’s first. You wet his cock with your tongue, and sucked him, moaning and slurping as you did so. You wanted him so bad; you sucked his cock like your life depended on it.

A string of “oh oh oh”’s and “mmm’”s fell from Willy’s mouth as you worked over his cock. He writhed on the couch and placed a hand on your head.

He was hard as stone after a moment, and you had been wet since he sat on your couch the first time. “Oh, Willy. Do you feel good, my sweet?”

“Yes,” he panted, his eyes glazed over, “very good.”

You stood up, and dropped your underwear to the ground, kicking them elsewhere. Then, you mounted him. His hands instinctively went to your waist. You reached down, placing his member between your folds. You sank down on him, feeling the intense stretch of your vaginal walls. You moaned in a slight pain initially, because his was larger than your husband, and you had never been with anyone else.

“Are you alright, y/n?”

“Oh, yes, darling, just give me a moment.” you adjusted, and then started to bounce in his lap.

Willy watched you in wonder and awe, then he’d look down to watch your pussy envelope his cock. “Haa, this is incredible.” he moaned, gripping your hips harder.

You quickened your pace. Sinful wet sounds came from your pussy. God, you needed this. The friction alone was titillating, but the tip of his cock would hit your cervix every so often and it was bliss, the whole scenario.

"Oh, y/n!" Willy cried your name over and over again. His hands explored your clothed body, groping your curves.

Damn, it felt so nice to be touched, and his hands were surprisingly big, and he knew how to use them.

You held yourself up with your hands on his shoulders, and slowly rocked back and forth on his cock. You noticed him eyeing your chest. "Unbutton my blouse, Willy."

He bit his lip with an eager gleam in his eyes, and he opened up the front of your blouse, letting your breasts plop out in his face.

Willy's eyes widened, he took his eyes away from your tits to look up in your eyes, "May I feel them?" he asked with a soft whimper.

"Yes, absolutely." you huffed, taking his hands and clapping them onto your naked breasts.

He gently squeezed and kneaded your breasts, then rolled your nipples between his fingers.

He was so sweet, and so curious about your body. It was so hot. You wanted to get off, you hoped to cum all over his dick. You held onto his arms firmly and rode him hard. His cock pounded away at your walls wildly, and you contracted your pussy around his girth.

"Ah! Fuck this is so good! I'm gonna...I'm gonna come!"

"Oh, oh!" Willy held your waist, and you felt his cock twitch inside you.

Your tummy swirled, and your legs went limp as you came.

"What's happening?" Willy cried, "What is this?" You felt him shoot ropes of his milky cum inside of you.

You took his worried face in your hands, "You're alright, my candy man. You had an orgasm. It's a wonderful thing."

"Oh," he panted, "yes, I suppose it is. A fantastic thing! Gosh, y/n, that felt like chocolate tastes, and chocolate is the best thing in the world!" he was so excited, like he'd discovered something that no one else had experienced before.

You giggled, "Well, I'm flattered, Willy." you felt hot and sweaty, you ran your hand down the back of your neck. You felt Willy's eyes on your tits.

"Your breasts, they are absolutely beautiful." he took them in his hands, just admiring the fullness of them.

You felt your pussy throb at the sight. Your husband never paid much attention to your body, but Willy seemed to be enthralled by you. You noticed how the glow of the fire highlighted his cocoa-colored curls. It was so pretty, his hair looked like the work of a master chocolatier. You ran your fingers through it, feeling the silkiness of his glorious mane.

"Can we do it again?" he asked you, then nodded to the floor, "There? On the bear skin rug? It would be comfortable for you."

"You're so thoughtful. Fuck me again, Willy Wonka. Pound me into the floor if you must."

Willy smiled like a kid on Christmas morning and hoisted you up and then carefully placed you down on the rug.

The fur was plush and soothing on your back. You put your arms up by your head to get comfy.

Willy ran his hands down your body. He looked at you like you were a gift he had been waiting for. "You are so beautiful. Your husband does not know how lucky he is."

"That's sweet, Willy, but let's not mention my husband."

He nodded, "Right." Then, he dipped down, pressing his lips to your stomach.

"Mm." you moaned, rubbing your thighs together in anticipation. You could feel Willy's semen dripping out of you. You wanted more.

Willy left small wet kisses down passed your navel, lower and lower, and you couldn't help but push his head down where you needed him most.

"How do I do this, y/n? Is it like... licking a lollipop?" he asked, naively.

You smiled at him and said, "Yes, kind of. Like a sucker with a chewy center...but you're not in a big hurry to get to the center. You're just trying to enjoy the flavor on the outside."

He took a second to ponder over what you had said, then he nodded, "Okay, got it."

He was a quick learner. He lapped steadily on your clit; his pacing was perfect, not too fast, not too slow. He must have had lots of suckers in his life.

"You can use the tip of your tongue also, Willy." you whimpered through the pleasure.

"Oh, okay." he answered, his voice muffled as he didn't move away from your pussy as he spoke.

The vibrations from his voice sent tingles through your body. That coupled with Willy massaging your clit with his tongue and letting the tip dance between your folds, led you to your second orgasm. You cried out in ecstasy. "Willy Wonka, you are a god!"

"No, I'm just a chocolate maker." he said, nonchalantly. He then sat on his knees, his hand around his cock. He ran the tip of his cock along the joint of your wet folds, coating himself in your cum.

"Ooh." you moaned, tucking your fingers into the furry rug as firmly as you could.

Willy slid into you, then back out. "Ha, you're so wet."

"Fuck me hard, Willy." you purred.

With that, he shoved his cock into you, bucking his hips roughly. His hips smacked your skin with each thrust. He put his whole length into you. He gripped your thighs and started to get faster.

You squeezed him with your thighs, and he grew more confident in what he was doing and picked up a rhythm. You watched his handsome face scrunch up as he worked his hips, his thick brows furrowing in both pleasure and concentration.

You wondered what your husband would do if he knew that the candy man stopped by and made you come on the bear skin rug he loved so much. Oh, the risk was worth it! For Willy was perhaps better at sex than making chocolate.

@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @tchalamss

@chalametbich

#timothée chalamet #timmy chalamet #timothée imagine #timothee chalamet smut #willy wonka x reader #willy wonka #timothee x reader

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skzdarlings · 10 months

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vexatious vixen ; felix x reader ; part 1/2

masterlist.

PART 1/2. READ PART 1 HERE. ( READ ON AO3. )

You always get what you want. When an unassuming security guard named Felix stops your latest venture, you escalate the stakes until he has no choice but to put you in your place.

pairing: lee felix/reader content info: romantic comedy. strangers to enemies to lovers. handcuffs. cat-and-mouse. eventual smut will be kinky dom/sub dynamics, dom!felix and sub!reader. (chapter word count: 7400 words.)

Seungmin is one of your best friends and also a conniving master of manipulation. Being a malevolent source of wicked verbal wizardry, he convinced you and Minho that it would be totally super easy to sneak into the Hwang Hyunjin concert. It’s only the final night of the pop-star’s sold-out world tour and the most anticipated concert of the year. What could go wrong?

It sounded like a good idea when Seungmin said it. Now the three of you are standing in a pushy crowd of overeager fans with some very intimidating looking security guards at the end of the queue.

“Reconvene,” you say. You grab the boys by their scruff and drag them out of the line.

“Ah, hey!” Minho snaps at you like piranha.

You release him to grab Seungmin by his collar. “You better have an idea for getting us past security,” you say, “because I do not like the look of the Incredible Hulk up there.”

The three of you look at the shortstack beefcake who looks like he could bench all three of you at the same time.

“Yeaaaah,” Seungmin says. He flashes you a not-so-innocent smile as his strawberry-pink bangs flop into his eyes. “I didn’t really think this far ahead. I thought you’d have a plan.”

“Why would I have a plan?” you ask. “This whole thing was your idea. Seungmin.” You drag him close so your noses touch, going cross-eyed at the proximity. It does not lessen the severity of your frustration when you state, “I waxed for this. And you know how I feel about waxing.”

“You waxed?” Minho asks loudly. It draws a few glances your way which might be because Minho is so loud, or might be because he’s so good looking, or a combination of the two. His dark eyes narrow at you like you’re a completely alien creature. “Why would you wax for a concert?” he asks.

“Wax,” Seungmin parrots. Your hands are on his collar like you intend to shake him up but it doesn’t deter him asking, “Like… like wax-wax? Like your human body waxed?”

“Like your human pussy?” Minho asks. “For a concert? What did you think was gonna happen?” He is on the very visible verge of hysterical laughter when a thought lights his eyes. “Wait,” he says. “I know how we can get in—”

“Oh my god,” you say. You shove Seungmin and grab Minho by the collar instead. “I’m not fucking our way in. And I waxed,” you drop your voice, “just in case.”

“Just in case…?” Minho tips his head. “Just in case you had to fuck your way in…?”

“Oh my god,” you say. You push him away too. “Never mind.”

“Did you think Hyunjin was going to summon you out of the crowd for a green room quickie?” Seungmin asks with a shit-eating grin.

Minho cackles. “No way she’d even go,” he says. “She doesn’t get summoned. She likes to be chased.”

“She is walking away now,” you say.

“Bet she’ll walk away quickly,” Seungmin says. “She waxed so she’ll be aerodynamic.”

You stomp away from the stadium but only make it a few steps before Seungmin runs in front of you.

“We can’t just give up here,” Seungmin says. “We made it this far already.”

“One bus stop?” you ask dryly. “We literally live like five minutes away—”

“Exactly!” Seungmin says. “That’s called destiny.”

“We might as well try,” Minho says. He cups a hand over his eyes to look at the stadium in the fading light of the sun. “We all got dressed up. Seungmin skipped a class. You waxed.”

“There’s no way we’re getting through those doors,” you say.

“We’ve done it before,” Seungmin says. He turns you to face the stadium and massages your shoulders like a boxing coach, all the while regaling you with tales of your past victories. “Remember all the other concerts we snuck into? The sports games? That celebrity wedding—”

“Well,” Minho interrupts, “we did get arrested at that one.”

“Yeah and we got arrested together,” Seungmin says, “because that’s what friends do.”

“I don’t know why,” you say, “but for some reason this is working.” Maybe it’s Seungmin’s words, or Minho’s cologne, or maybe it’s the soft glow of a perfect summer sunset as it pours over the stadium like a pink-orange waterfall. Or maybe it’s because this really is the concert of the year, and you love a challenge, and you fucking waxed.

You throw your head back and sigh, soulfully resigning yourself to your imminent fate.

“Fine,” you say. “So how are we doing this?”

“Don’t worry,” Seungmin says thoughtfully. “I think I have a plan.”

Seungmin proceeds to explain the plan. It is hardly the pinnacle of heist endeavours but is more feasible than rappelling down the stadium walls into the concert arena.

Basically, the plan is to find a group of people with a solitary ticket holder and leech onto their tail with the hopes security will miscount the party and let you sneak past. It means you will have to split up because security will definitely notice three extra people. You will then hopefully reunite inside the arena.

You scamper around the periphery of the stadium, perusing lines for oblivious groups of excited fans with an e-ticket-wielding ringleader. You also double-check which security guards seem the most lax or checked out.

“I get that one,” Minho says.

He points to a trim, athletic guard with floppy brown hair and a giggly smile. You and Seungmin protest because that guard is an easy mark so you all want him, but Minho takes off running for the queue.

The thing about Lee Minho is that he never hauls ass. He coasts through life with a casual slouch, but he is completely capable of annihilating everyone if he deigns to do so.

He does. So he did.

You and Seungmin look around. Your grin widens when you spy the next easiest target.

“Aha!” you say. “I call dibs on that one! Good luck, Seungmin!”

“Hey!” Seungmin bellows.

He is far too late. You are already booking it towards the line with a pretty, chipper, skinny security guard. He is in jeans and a loose windbreaker that says SECURITY across the back, about the only indication he is a man of any authority. His hair is a vibrant, neon blue and is delicately styled, long enough to pull back in a pretty half-ponytail. His features are sharp, cheekbones sloping, but there is a natural tenderness to his whole countenance. He doesn’t have a mean bone in his body.

Also, he really is lean. Worst case scenario, you can probably push your way past him and disappear into the crowd before he can do anything about it.

You find a group of girls to sidle alongside anyway. You are satisfied you will easily slip into the stadium.

The group reaches the front of the line, a couple of them giggling at the security guard’s friendly attention. His name tag reads Felix, a cute name for a cute guy. Up close, you can see a smattering of dark freckles across his face, as well as a few playful glitter stars for the concert. He is admittedly pretty but as a professional gate crasher, you refrain from distraction. You successfully avoid his gaze and stick close to the girl in front of you.

Felix gives them each a friendly nod, smiling brightly. He laughs at one of their comments and it’s a charming, low sound.

“Enjoy the show, ladies,” he says, his voice about a hundred decibels deeper than you expected.

Maybe that’s what trips you up. It has to be something, because you were doing everything right. But just as you go to follow the girls into the arena, a skinny arm shoots out and you smack right into it.

“Sorry,” Felix says. He drops his arm and smiles. “I just need to see your ticket.”

“My…?” You look ahead at the group of girls, but they are already gone. Oops. “Ha, ha,” you say, looking at Felix.

He is staring back at you, still smiling a close-lipped smile. He blinks a couple times then lifts an eyebrow.

“Uh, ticket?” he says. He holds out his hand.

“Right,” you say. You smile at him with all the saccharine sweetness you can. “I have funny story about that, Felix,” you say.

“Hm.” His smile turns into a line, eyes narrowing as he looks at you. “And what’s that?”

“Well, you see…”

It’s all you say before you bolt, fast on your feet. You sprint for the entryway behind the guarded queue. There’s a crowd inside and you’re an expert at disappearing into a crowd. You just need to get in there and find your boys then you are home free. Hwang Hyunjin, here you come.

There’s just one problem.

Felix is fast.

Like, track star fast. Like, road runner fast. Like, you’re that dumb coyote getting an anvil dropped on your head, except this anvil is a skinny blue-haired Australian with a voice like a god and the apparent hidden strength of one too.

You make it a few desperate steps before Felix literally sweeps you off your feet. You shriek when he hauls you under his arm, dragging you away from the stadium door. He deposits you a few feet from the queue then swiftly resumes his position.

“Hello,” he says to the next person in line. “Sorry about that. Ticket?”

Your mouth is agape.

No one has ever got the jump on you like that.

“Hey!” you say, but Felix has moved on. He is smiling at the next guest as he checks their ticket, not paying you any mind. “Excuse me,” you say, despite the people between you and him. “I think there’s been a misunderstanding. I do have a ticket.”

“Uh-huh,” Felix says. He doesn’t look at you, scanning someone’s e-ticket with a little device. It lights up green and he smiles at them. “Enjoy the show,” he says.

You jump into the queue, cutting off the next person. Felix’s smile vanishes and is replaced with an astoundingly sassy expression.

“Uh, this line is for ticket-holders,” he says.

“I have a ticket,” you say. You unzip your purse and spend a minute rifling around, ignoring him when he sighs. He apologizes to the people behind you. You turn and offer a tight-lipped apology of your own. “I was in line,” you say, as if they didn’t just witness this ten-pound bully haul you around like a sack of potatoes. “There was just a misunderstanding.”

Felix rolls his eyes.

You pull out your cell phone and flip through a folder of fake screenshotted tickets, hoping at least one of them marginally resembles the tickets for tonight. You pick one and flash it at Felix.

“Happy?” you say with a lot of false indignation. You turn off the screen when Felix goes to grab your phone. You give him a snooty, squinty-eyed look, then saunter right past him.

This time when he comes after you, you are better prepared for his speed. You zig-zag and he stumbles, cussing very unprofessionally. You make it all the way to the door before he grabs you. You have no idea where he is getting all that muscle because he feels like a sturdy stick when you grab at him, but he puts you over his shoulder like it’s easy.

“Um, excuse me!” you shout. “Hello! Someone film this! I’m being assailed!”

Felix intentionally jostles you on his shoulder. He is even less gentle when he drops you this time, though you do manage to keep your footing.

“Try that again,” Felix says, “and it will be trouble. Got it?”

Felix is very good looking. He’s an incredible combination of pretty and handsome, not to mention that voice, guh. But what gets you going is how much you are clearly pissing him off. It’s hot. Out of nowhere, the freckled sunshine sweetheart is just oozing confidence, standing square and pointing at you with a very stern expression. And if you get a little hiccup in your blood, a little skip in your heartbeat, a little stampede southward that makes your pussy hum like the interested kitten it is, well. That’s not your fault. It’s his. Asshole.

You flip him off. He ignores you, shaking his head as he returns to his position.

“Sorry,” he says to the queue. “Some people are so inconsiderate, aren’t they?”

Ugh. What a sexy bitch.

You text to check in with the boys. Minho made it inside, no surprise, but apparently Seungmin is also struggling for an in.

what is with these security guards, Seungmin writes, are they military trained? fuck

maybe you’re both just losing your touch, Minho replies.

never, you say. we still have lots of time. we'll get in there. seungmin, meet me by the benches. we need another plan.

Usually, the best way to crash an event is with minimal attention and no theatrics. It’s all about pretending you are exactly where you are supposed to be. If you act like you belong, then you will.

A spectacle is a desperate measure, but you are desperate people. After a few hushed whispers on a bench, you and Seungmin spring into action.

“Help!” Seungmin shouts. “My wife needs help! Please!”

“Your wife?” you whisper through gritted teeth, opening one eye to look at him. You are currently laying on the pavement in a dramatic swoon, Seungmin hunched over you.

“My companion of ambiguous relationship is hurt!” he says. “Ouch,” he adds, because you swat his arm.

Fortunately, he does draw attention. A few people run over, the beefy security guard one of them. His nametag reads Changbin and he is in a black t-shirt at least two sizes too small. You do not begrudge him this, as you would do the same if you had biceps like that.

“What happened?” he asks, crouching down beside Seungmin.

“My friend just passed out,” Seungmin says. He hoists you into his arms as your tongue lolls out of your mouth. “Is there somewhere inside I can take her to sit down? I think all the chaos out here overstimulated her.”

“One second,” Changbin says. He pulls a walkie-talkie out of a holster. It buzzes with static as he turns it on. “Hey, we have a collapsed woman in front of Entry Door B. Can I have back-up clear a path, and someone with First Aid training?” The walkie-talkie buzzes again and Changbin puts it away. He stands up, waving away the small crowd that has gathered. “Yah, everyone back up! This is an emergency!”

“It’s really not,” Seungmin says. He scoops you into a bridal hold then struggles to lift you off the ground. “I just need – whew – somewhere I can – agh – put her down. I can just – AH! – carry her myself.”

Naturally, it is at that moment a familiar voice descends from above.

A familiar, deep, Australian-accented voice.

“Move aside, please.”

“Oh no,” you say, eyes closed. You open them just in time for a glitter-faced, freckled, blue-haired pretty boy in a SECURITY windbreaker to cut through the crowd.

Unfortunately, Felix is just as good looking at this angle. He waves away the gathered onlookers as he approaches, but looks at Changbin first.

“I have First Aid,” he says. “What happened?”

“I just found her collapsed,” Changbin says. “Her friend thinks it’s the crowd. Should we bring her inside?”

Felix looks at you. The concerned furrow in his brow immediately gives way.

You smile innocently.

“No,” Felix says, frowning. “We shouldn’t.”

“Oh come on,” you say. You smack the ground. “I collapsed! I need help!”

“No, you need a ticket,” Felix says. He crosses his arms and stomps a foot. “Seriously, what is wrong with you? Some of us have a job to do, you know?”

“Naaaur ya need a ticket, mate,” you say in a mockingly deep chest voice. “Some of us have jobs ya knaaaaur!”

“Do you guys know each other?” Changbin asks, looking between you and Felix – who is growing increasingly red in the face and breathing much harder.

“I have no idea who this guy is,” Seungmin says.

“Ah!” Felix yells, spinning to Changbin. “She doesn’t have a ticket! She’s just trying to sneak in!”

“She doesn’t have a ticket?” Seungmin asks, gasping. He drops you onto the concrete, ignoring your yelp of pain. “But I thought she – she told me we – I – I –“

You watch in betrayed horror as Seungmin pretends to faint, flopping down beside you on the concrete. You sit up, very tempted to slap him across the face but not wanting to give Felix more reasons to accost you.

“Seungmin,” you say. You grab him by the shirt and rattle him around like a ragdoll. “Seungmin, you bastard, don’t even think about it!”

“You.” Felix stomps up behind you. “Get off the ground and come with me.”

“No,” you say. “I don’t want to and you can’t make me.”

You shriek – again – when Felix grabs you under the arms and hoists you to your feet. He manhandles you with only a modicum of effort, dragging you away from your stupid traitorous best friend.

You step on Felix’s foot deliberately and he swears. For such a pretty thing, he sure has a filthy mouth. You grab a fistful of his hair and tug, to which he cusses up a storm and pries your hand off his head.

You hear the distinct buzz of Changbin’s walkie-talkie.

“We have a collapsed man in front of Entry Door B. Can someone who isn’t going to start fighting the patrons come help me move him?”

“He’s faking it!” you cry in protest, watching Changbin scoop Seungmin off the ground.

Changbin disregards your outburst. Seungmin gives you a thumbs up behind his back. Felix, of course, doesn’t see it because he’s too busy dragging you away. You are left to sputter in bewildered protest at the injustice of it all.

Felix marches you to the sidewalk, far away from the stadium queues. You are both out of breath by the time you get there. Even so, you attempt to manoeuvre under his arm to run away. In a few quick moves, he knocks you onto your ass.

“Holy fuck!” You are panting now. A line of sweat dots your hairline. You wipe at it and stare morosely at this stupidly competent minimum wage security guard. “What are you, like some kind of karate master or something?”

“Taekwondo, actually,” he says, brushing off his jacket. Then he tips his head and stares down at you.

You would be lying if you said the intensity of his stare didn’t have your heart racing for an entirely new reason. Danger and desire have always danced a close dance for your tastes. Felix is not helping matters, tucking back loose strands of vibrant hair as he looms over you, wetting his bottom lip and staring.

You cross your arms and feign nonchalance, but you can’t look away from him. When he crouches down slowly to meet you at eye level, everything below the belt goes pitter-patter.

“No ticket,” Felix says slowly. “No concert. Do you understand me?”

You stick out your tongue.

“Wow, mature,” he says. His departing farewell is another snarky eyeroll. He shakes his head as he stands, muttering to himself in obvious frustration.

So much for not a mean bone in his body. That bully is all business.

So hot.

You huff and puff for a bit. Your phone is going berserk in your purse, probably the boys trying to reach you. Eventually you succumb to the necessary confession of your twice thwarted efforts. Minho teases that you are losing your touch for real. It makes angry little fireworks pop out of your ears.

Plenty of occasions you have assessed a situation and deemed it unreasonably complicated, but quitting while you’re ahead is not the same thing as admitting defeat. You do not lose. This isn’t even about the concert anymore. Fuck Hwang Hyunjin, he was never worth the pain of a wax in the first place. No. This is about your pride. This is about your dignity. This is about your honour.

You are getting into that concert, one way or another.

First, you gather intel. This comes in the form of snooping, running between queues to figure out the easiest mark. You don’t judge the guards by their appearances this time, because apparently this security team has secret taekwondo masters hidden in their midst.

You watch their every move, calculating and determining your odds therein. Based on visual research and Minho’s confirmation, it seems your best bet is the smiling guard who let Minho through. His nametag reads Jisung and he is a veritable flirt.

Flash him your tits, Minho texts.

Uh, no, I’m not that desperate yet.

Second, with your intel now acquired, you get into the dwindling line. The sun is almost set and a breezy summer chill dances across your cheeks. The concert will be starting soon. You shuffle behind the other stragglers, adjusting your outfit. The jean shorts hug your hips and flash a nice chunk of thigh, and your shirt is already low cut but you figure another tug won’t hurt. You also pull your flannel down your arms to look as flirtatious as possible.

Jisung is barely looking at the tickets as he scans them, chatting merrily to the guests as he lets them through. You pull up a random ticket on your phone, something to hold out while you distract him.

“Hi,” you say.

His eyes flick down to your chest, then back up. He smiles brightly.

“Hi!” he says. “You look nice. Excited for the concert?”

“Oh, absolutely,” you say. “You have no idea how much I’ve been waiting for this. It wasn’t easy to get in.”

“I know what you mean,” he says. “Tickets are hard to come by, and so expensive!”

“Ugh, tell me about it,” you say, leaning in while he scans your phone. This was a bad idea because he looks down at your chest again, just in time for his little device to flash red.

“Oh, oops!” he says. He smiles at you as he shakes his device. “Sorry!” he says. “I think you showed me the wrong ticket. Could you pull up the right one?”

“Ohhh!” you say, looking down at your phone with fake surprise. Life is so unfair. “I’m so sorry… Jisung. Hehe, that’s such a nice name.”

“Haha, thanks,” Jisung says. “My parents picked it, but, yeah, it’s cool. Anyway.” He wiggles his device. “Ticket please!”

You keep smiling and giggling, even as you turn around under the guise of searching through your phone. You glare down at the stupid device, keeping your back to Jisung while you do so. How the fuck are you getting out of this? You flip through screenshots then open your text messenger. Minho’s last words of wisdom blink up at you.

Apparently, you are that desperate.

With a sigh, you put your phone in your purse and zip it shut. You shrug your shoulders and plaster that fake smile on your face again. With a swift of flick of your thumbs, you lift your shirt and bra up over your tits and spin around to look at Jisung.

“How’s this for a ticket—”

Jisung looks surprised and delighted. Jisung, however, is standing a few feet back. Probably because he was told to step back. Probably by Felix who is standing in front of you with his arms crossed and an unimpressed look on his face.

“Wow,” Felix says. “Just committing crimes now, are we?”

You shove your tits back into your bra indignity, not even embarrassed, just annoyed.

“Tits aren’t a crime,” you say.

“Public indecency is,” he replies.

“You’re… publicly indecent…” Not your best comeback. You glare at him while fixing your shirt. “There’s no way they pay you enough to be riding my ass this hard.”

“They don’t,” Felix says, grabbing your arm. “Believe me when I say riding your ass has been my pleasure.”

“Twisted fuck,” you reply.

You wave at Jisung as Felix tugs you away. He waves back but does nothing to rescue you, because all men are traitors.

You groan loudly as Felix leads you away from the stadium yet again. “Just let me innnnn,” you whine. “Why do you hate meee.”

“I don’t even know you!” Felix says. He deposits you on a bench and takes out his phone.

“What are you doing?” you ask, eying the device.

“What do you think I’m doing?” he asks. “You tried to break into a ticketed event three times. You faked an injury. You flashed yourself in a public place—”

“I wouldn’t have done any of that if you just let me through in the first place!”

“You cannot be serious.” Felix looks ready to rip his hair out. “You don’t have a ticket! Why would I let you in, why would I – AH! Why am I arguing with you! Be quiet, I’m phoning the police.”

“The po— the police?! How dare you!” You try to stand but he pushes you onto the bench one-handed. He holds you there, palm on your shoulder, still way stronger than someone this scrawny should be.

“Fine!” you exclaim. “Fine! You win! I’m sorry, Felix, I was wrong. I was wrong and you were right.”

Felix pauses. “Really,” he says, sounding unconvinced.

“Yes!” You look up at him with the saddest, most watery eyes you can muster. “I just wanted to see the concert but it was stupid to think I could break in.”

He turns off his screen. Success. You watch him slip his phone in his pocket.

“It’s not about being smart or stupid,” he says, the ire gone from his voice. It takes a lot of willpower not to bite his fingers when he pats your shoulder. “It’s about the fact we can’t always get what we want,” he says kindly as he crouches in front of you. His hand goes from your shoulder to your knee, still patting it in a friendly manner.

You bite your tongue because you want to tell him you liked him better when he was being a mean bitch, but that would be counterproductive to your escape attempt.

It turns out, you don’t need to say anything, because he decides to be a bitch again anyway. Felix looks at you with a too-sweet smile and says, “It’s about time someone taught you that lesson.”

“Um, excuse me?” you say, aghast. You clasp your hand over your heart. “Just who do you think you are? First of all, you taught me nothing, I’m still a horrible bitch and I lied when I said you were right. Second, you absolutely can get everything you want, you just have to want it enough to get it. But you wouldn’t know anything about that. You know why, Felix?”

He rolls his eyes and shakes his head like he expected this, which he probably did, but you’re too far gone to retreat.

You reach out and cup his face in both hands, turning it to you. Those sharp eyes are unflinching, even with your fingers on his face. You try really hard not to gulp.

“It’s because you are a good boy,” you say. “You always do what you’re told. You always follow the rules. I bet everyone thinks you’re the nicest guy on the team, don’t they? I bet they call you cute little nicknames and all the nice little girls think you’re a sweet, innocent baby. And you are, aren’t you, Felix? You’re just such a good, good boy. But me? I’m not good. I’m not bad. I just like to win. When I want something, I get it, because I chase it, and I don’t stop until I get it. Until it’s all mine.” You lean in close. “Get it?”

His gaze darkens, brows pinching. You take his fleeting moment of vulnerability to shove him onto his back. He sprawls on the ground with a surprised yelp. You sprint away at top speed and flip him off over your shoulder.

It’s a haphazard ploy at best but you are fresh out of plans. What you need is distance between you and Security Guard of the Year, a breather long enough to come up with a final plan. Maybe you can physically break in somewhere: an office window, a janitorial stairwell, something.

You keep an eye out for potential openings as you run.

And run.

Hmm. You’ve been running a long time. Even with the head-start, Felix should have caught you by now. You doubt he would have truly given up. Felix had a deranged look in his eye, similar to the one you get when someone is trying to beat you at your own game. He doesn’t want you to win anymore than you want to lose. You suspect it isn’t about the concert for him either; this is a personal battle.

You come to a gradual stop, hands on your hips as you catch your breath. It’s quiet on this side of the stadium as the queues were on the opposite end.

Quiet, yes. Too quiet.

There’s a stairwell that leads to second level just above your head. Felix is good. You have to give credit where credit is due. If you weren’t a scheming nightmare with a penchant for con-artistry, he probably would have caught you. But without turning around, you know he booked it up the stairs and is two seconds from springing an attack.

You take off running, just in time for him to thump into the grass beside you. You laugh at his strangled cry of frustration as he scrambles to his feet.

Around the next corner is the parking lot. You stop a split second to look over your shoulder and see him hot on your heels. He discarded his jacket and is in a loose sleeveless shirt, revealing he does have some light toning to his lean body. But you don’t stop to measure how proportionate it is to his strength, because he is focussed on you like a laser.

Then he smiles. A slow, slinky smile like a cocky predator about to swipe at its prey. That cat has claws, nasty ones, and you almost want to get tangled in them. Almost. You want to win even more.

And he just set you up for success. There’s a SECURITY jacket on the ground somewhere nearby. That’s your ticket in. You just have to lose Felix in the parking lot and loop back around to find where he tossed it.

You spare no time setting that plan into action, giving Felix a smile of your own before you run. He thunders after you.

The pair of you weave in and out of parked cars. He disappears for a second behind a row of trucks. You whip your head around to figure out where he went, only for him to summersault around the corner and cut you off. You yell instinctively but narrowly dodge his reaching hand. He curses, running after you with his arm outstretched. You duck behind a trailer and lose him, scurrying between some SUVs. You peek at him through the windows, watching him turn in a circle to find where you went. Smiling to yourself, you quietly but quickly back away.

You leave the lot and run back the way you first came. You find Felix’s jacket draped on a random bush.

Your heart is practically singing with adrenaline. Victory is in sight. You push yourself to run faster and reach out with both hands –

— only to find yourself rolling in the grass, Felix’s arms tight around your middle as he tackles you to the ground.

You push and pull at each other, cursing and scrambling very ungracefully. You get out of his arms but he climbs on top of you, then you knee him in the gut so he rolls over, but when you start crawling he grabs your ankles and drags you back.

Ultimately, he Taekwondo Masters you onto your front, hands clasped behind your back. You kick your feet and wail despondently into the grass as he kneels over you, breathing raggedly and swearing again.

“You’re a monster!” you shout. “You’re a tyrant and a bully and you have no right to – HEY!”

He handcuffs you.

“Ha.” He leans in close, speaking right into your ear. “I win.”

“That’s not fair,” you say. “You can’t just—ahh!” You wail in petulance as he lifts you onto your feet. His grip on your bicep is unyielding so you are forced to stomp alongside him as he escorts you…

…back to the sidewalk.

“You’re not busting me?” you ask in confusion. You thought for sure he was going to drag you into some shady office and plop you in a chair until the police arrived. He would probably be super boring and professional about it, staring at you with his dumb horny eyes but not doing anything about it. Nothing sucks more than being all trussed up by a pretty boy with manners.

“I just want you to go and never come back,” Felix says.

“Fine.” You turn around and hold your arms straight behind you. “But I’m like a wolf, Felix. I have your scent for life.”

“Yeah, sure,” he says. “Not how wolves work by the way. But fine.”

“Oh wow, sorry. Didn’t realize you majored in Wolfology. You got any other fun facts?”

“You are so—”

You smirk at his grumbling. You are just biding your time until he uncuffs one wrist, then you whip around faster than he can compute the action. With one cuff still attached, you grab the second and clamp it down on his wrist. He sputters in bewilderment, at which point you snatch the keys.

“What are you doing—” He tries to grab them but your joined hands make the angle too awkward. You spin around together in a few circles, bonk heads twice, until finally you reel back and chuck the keys as far into the distance as possible.

He stands there, mouth agape. You tap your foot impatiently.

When he realizes what has happened – that you have handcuffed yourself to him and thrown away the keys – he looks at you with fiery eyes, fierce enough you stumble. He yanks your joined hands, the chain ungiving. You watch as he goes through several stages of grief in a matter of moments. Then he closes his eyes and breathes in and out.

“Why,” he says slowly, “did you just do that?”

“I dunno, Felix,” you say. You plop down on the ground and sit cross-legged. It forces him to bend over, your cuffed wrist dragging him down. “Guess we’ll have to go inside and get some back-up keys. And when I’m in the stadium and you uncuff yourself from me, I promise not to run away.”

“That’s your plan?” he snaps. “That’s your plan?”

“What, is there an echo out here?”

“That’s your plan?” he asks again, his deep voice pitching up an octave. He crouches down and shoves his free hand into his hair, shaking his head. “This can’t be happening,” Felix says, more out loud to himself than you. “Why is this happening. Oh my god.”

You squeak when he tugs on the chain, yanking you close, nose to nose.

“What if I just called for back-up?” he asks. “Or skipped that and went right to the police? How would you get out of that?”

“Wait,” you say. “Why aren’t you doing that?”

“Because.”

He leans back as far as he can, sitting on his heels. You duck your head, trying to meet his eye to no avail. He clenches his jaw.

“Felix,” you say. “Why aren’t you just calling for back-up?”

“Because,” he says through gritted teeth. “The handcuffs. Are. Not. Regulation.”

You look at each other. There is a long moment of silence.

Then, “What!” You cackle with complete and utter abandon.

A very unamused Felix glares at you while you throw your head back and laugh.

“You?” you cry, poking your finger against his chest. “You? You? You are just walking around with a pair of handcuffs that you aren’t supposed to have? What the fuuuuuck—” You think you might die laughing.

“Jisung gave them to me before our shift!” he exclaims. “It was a joke because— Never mind! I don’t have to explain myself to you! Hello. Hello.” He grabs your chin with his free hand and turns your face roughly to his. He jingles your joined hands. “Not regulation,” he says. “There are no other keys in this building.”

Silence falls again.

Then, “Oh.” You stare at him. “Shit.”

A minute later, you and Felix are scuttling around trying to find the key. You must have a very good arm because it landed near the stadium and disappeared in some bushes.

You and Felix keep forgetting your wrists are connected, reaching in opposite directions only to snap back together. You are certain you are going to end the night with a few bumps and bruises.

The entire time you are searching for the key, Felix is grumbling irritably. He tears his way through a bush, his deep voice pitching up with a miserable whine when he can’t find it.

“This is so stupid,” he says. He throws a stick at the wall. “I am a good worker. I never break the rules. I am not getting in trouble for this. You did this. You did this to me.”

On he goes, grumble, grumble, grumble, bitch, bitch, bitch.

“It’s not like the key disappeared,” you say, pushing some pebbles around. “It has to be here somewhere.”

It is starting to get dark, the sky a deep purple. The stadium lights blare down on you. Felix uses his phone flashlight to beam extra light at the ground. The only time he stops grumbling is when the noise in the stadium changes, the concert clearly beginning. He takes time out of his busy searching schedule to give you a mean smile.

“When we find those keys,” you say, “I’m handcuffing you to that railing over there and leaving you to freeze to death in your stupid tank top.”

“It’s not a tank top,” he says. “It’s a t-shirt. I cut the sleeves off. And when we find those keys, I’m handcuffing you to that railing over there and phoning the police.”

“Well then,” you say, “may the best key finder in a slutty tank top win.”

“It’s not a tank top.”

You continue to search. It is utterly illogical that the keys would just vanish but the longer it takes, the more concerned you get. It just doesn’t make sense! Things don’t just disappear! The keys landed somewhere over here, so they have to be…

You see it first. You sit there in a stunned stupor. You swat at Felix with your cuffed hand.

“What?” he says without looking at you. You continue to slap him until he forces your hand down, tangling your fingers with his. “What!”

You point. He crowds in behind you to look over your shoulder. You feel him exhale.

“Please don’t tell me…”

You both lean to look down the sewer drain. He flashes his phone light over it. Something silver glints back in the darkness.

“Fuck!” Felix says. He doesn’t stop there. What follows is a string of cusses so unbelievably foul and complex that you honestly believe it should quality him for Pulitzer in poetry. When he has exhausted every expletive in several different languages, he plops down on his ass and stares up at the sky with mute despondency.

“So what happens now?” you ask. “Do we fuck?”

“What?” He looks at you with utter bewilderment. “What the fuck? Why would you suggest that? What would that solve?”

“Nothing,” you say. “But it would kill the time and couldn’t make things worse.”

“You are insane,” he says. “I am handcuffed to an insane person.”

“Hey, ‘mate’, you were the one with the non-regulation handcuffs in the first place. I could solve this problem real quick by phoning the authorities myself and saying some crazy guy put me in cuffs.”

“I dare you,” he says. “Try.”

“No,” you say. And not just because you have a record with the police and they would never take your side. But Felix doesn’t need to know that. Well, you suspect Felix is smart enough to guess it, but he doesn’t need the confirmation. “I’d rather make you suffer,” you say instead. You sit back in an insouciant slouch like the whole circumstance is beneath your attention. “Figure it out, pretty boy.”

“Well,” he says, “apparently if you break your wrists then you can force them through the cuffs.”

“Ew!” You push him in the middle of his chest. He doesn’t fall, but he does glare at you. “We’re not doing that! What a stupid plan! You’ve been guzzling the hair dye fumes, buddy. Think of a plan that doesn’t involve injury, thank you.”

“I didn’t want to do this,” Felix says with another put-upon sigh, “but fine. I have another pair at home so the keys—”

“Wait,” you interrupt. “I thought someone gave you the cuffs today? Why do you have another key at home?”

“I have another pair,” he repeats, “of the same handcuffs.”

“You—”

“Already own a pair, yes, move on.” He aggressively pushes hair out of his eyes. “He clearly bought it from the same place so my key should work for this one too.”

“So despite your uppity school boy routine, you do own non-regulation handcuffs and not just as a joke. Wow, Felix.” You giggle helplessly. “Be careful or I might start to like you.”

He is glaring at you, no surprise, but the tips of his ears blush pink.

“Let’s just go,” Felix says. “The sooner I get you off, the sooner I can forget about your existence.”

“You can get me off as fast or slow as you like—ahh!”

Once more, the secret superman is manhandling you onto your feet. Without pausing for breath, he turns and marches away. You are forced to stumble behind his swift strides, your hands swinging close enough that your fingertips brush every so often.

“How do I know you’re not gonna murder me?” you ask.

“You don’t,” he replies.

“How do you know I’m not gonna murder you?”

“I don’t.” He sounds more annoyed than afraid. “But it sounds better than being cuffed to you forever. I’ll take my chances. Come on.”

“Not like I have a choice,” you grumble.

He comes to an abrupt halt and you crash into him with a sharp exhale. He grabs your hand and tugs you close. You blink at him with surprise while he tips his head in that studious way.

“You’re right,” he says. “You don’t. In fact, it’s almost nice, you forced to finally do what I’m asking. If you’re not careful, it might even make me like you.”

It is so cold and sarcastic.

It gets you so hot.

Seriously, what is with your stupid brain? How does it cross the wires of fear and desire like that? Felix is speaking at you with that deep, dark, nasty voice of his and your heart should be skipping beats in concern, not because you think he’s sexy when he’s being a bitch.

You hide it from him well enough, glaring at him like he glared at you. He just snorts and shakes his head.

“What?” you ask.

“Interesting,” he replies. “Very interesting.”

“What?”

“Nothing.” He smiles politely, for a moment looking like the unassuming pretty boy you thought he was. He bats his long eyelashes at you, smiles a coy smile, and squeezes your hand. “Come on,” he says. “We tried this your way and it got us in trouble. Time to be a good girl and do it my way. No, stop, don’t say anything. Be quiet. Just walk. Let’s go.”

You stumble when he tugs you after him. Your mouth is hanging open yet again.

You are proud to say that in your many years of bad girl shenanigans, you have never truly met your match. You’ve played pretend a few times, let a couple losers think they won, if only because you liked the game of it. But no one has ever really taken control. No one has ever really beat you. No one has ever come close.

No one. Until today.

You glare at the back of Felix’s head, brain stampeding as fast as your heart. Because finally, you’ve found him, your perfect match. Lashed to you through the metal manifestation of fate’s red string.

You didn’t know what game you were playing before, but now you do.

And you’re going to win.

#skz x reader #stray kids x reader #lee felix x reader #felix x reader #felix smut #skz smut

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frostdayz · 1 month

Text

Loving in green

Loki x Reader (f! reader)

Genre: Fluff with borderline "smut"

Summary: Loki cant seem to keep his hands off you when he finally sees you wearing his favorite color, green.

warnings: a mimi steamy make out, loki getting horny from seeing green cus he's a freak

my stories never really describe the readers gender so unless stated otherwise all my stories are gn!!

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The moment I slipped into the dress, I felt a shiver of anticipation ripple through me. The deep emerald fabric clung to my curves, the shade so rich it seemed to glow, almost as if it were alive with its own magic. I had chosen this dress with care, knowing it would draw his attention like nothing else. Green—the color of his magic, his essence, his very soul. It was a bold choice, but I wanted to see his reaction, to feel the intensity of his gaze on me.

I took a deep breath, steadying myself as I checked my reflection in the mirror one last time. My hair fell in loose waves around my shoulders, and I had kept my makeup simple, letting the dress speak for itself. I knew what this color did to him, how it stirred something primal in him. A part of me was nervous, but another part—perhaps the braver, more reckless part—was excited.

I walked out of the bedroom, my heart pounding in my chest. The long corridor leading to the sitting room seemed endless, each step heightening my anticipation. I could feel the soft fabric of the dress brushing against my skin, reminding me of the decision I had made. When I reached the doorway, I paused for a moment, gathering my courage before stepping inside.

There he was, standing by the window with his back to me, gazing out at the night sky. The room was dimly lit, the soft glow of the lamps casting shadows on the walls. The sight of him, so tall and commanding, sent a familiar warmth spreading through me. I took a breath and walked toward him, my heels clicking softly against the polished floor.

He turned at the sound, his movements graceful and fluid, as if he had sensed my presence the moment I entered the room. His eyes found mine first, and then they traveled down, taking in the sight of me in that dress. For a moment, his expression was unreadable, but then something flickered in his eyes—something dark and hungry.

“Green,” he murmured, his voice low and rough, like the purr of a predator. “You’re wearing green.”

I nodded, suddenly feeling shy under the intensity of his gaze. “I thought you might like it.”

He crossed the room in a few long strides, closing the distance between us in an instant. Before I could say another word, his hands were on me, pulling me close. The touch of his fingers against the smooth fabric sent a thrill through me, and I gasped as he pressed me against him, his body hard and warm.

“I don’t just like it,” he growled, his lips brushing against my ear. “I love it.”

His hands roamed over my back, his touch possessive, as if he couldn’t get enough of me. He buried his face in my hair, inhaling deeply, his breath hot against my neck. I could feel the tension in his body, the way he was holding himself back, barely restraining the desire that was burning between us.

“You have no idea what you’re doing to me,” he whispered, his voice rough with need. His hands slid down to my waist, gripping me tightly as he pulled me even closer.

I looked up at him, my heart racing. “Show me,” I whispered back, my voice trembling with anticipation.

His eyes darkened, and for a moment, I thought he might lose control right then and there. But instead, he cupped my face in his hands, his touch suddenly gentle, almost reverent. He stared down at me, his gaze searching mine as if he were looking for something, some sign that I wanted this as much as he did.

And I did. More than anything.

Without another word, he leaned in and captured my lips in a searing kiss. The world around us seemed to vanish as his mouth moved against mine, hungry and demanding. I wrapped my arms around his neck, clinging to him as the kiss deepened, his hands tangling in my hair, pulling me even closer.

When he finally pulled back, we were both breathing heavily, our foreheads pressed together. His eyes were filled with a fierce, almost possessive intensity that sent a shiver down my spine. “You are mine,” he whispered, his voice filled with a quiet but undeniable authority.

I nodded, unable to find my voice. I had never seen him like this—so completely unguarded, so utterly consumed by desire. The sight of him, the feel of him against me, was intoxicating. I felt as though I were drowning in him, in the overwhelming force of his need.

He trailed kisses down my neck, his lips grazing my skin, sending sparks of pleasure through me. His hands roamed over my body, exploring every curve, every inch of exposed skin, as if he were trying to memorize the feel of me beneath his fingers. I could feel his breath against my skin, hot and heavy, as he murmured words of adoration and desire in my ear.

“Beautiful,” he whispered, his voice filled with awe. “So beautiful aren't you my girl?”

His lips found mine again, and this time the kiss was softer, more tender, but no less intense. He held me close, as if he were afraid I might disappear if he let go. And in that moment, I knew that I was his—completely and utterly his.

And I knew, too, that he was mine.

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marlynnofmany · 2 years

Text

A Peaceful Upheaval

The mutiny started politely enough. This was a courier ship, not some rowdy bandit cruiser, and the dozen or so people onboard approached the situation with all the calm levelheadedness of businessfolks at a board meeting. The captain was new. He was bad at this. He’d only gotten the job because his cousin had recommended him, and she was probably regretting that.

“We will discuss the matter with Captain Kamm when we land,” said Piercing Sunlight, the lizardlike Heatseeker with bright yellow scales. She was taking point in the conversation.

“Kamm doesn’t have to hear about this,” objected Captain Pockap, his green tentacles lashing in agitation. “All of you need to go back to your stations and reconsider how you talk to your captain.” He looked like an octopus with freckles, and he sounded like a petulant child.

“Did you not hear the statement?” Zhee asked with an irritated click of his pincher arms. His patience never seemed lengthy, but now it was getting shorter by the minute. “You are no longer our captain. We have decreed it.” His exoskeleton shone with purple glory, and he radiated annoyance.

The rest of the crew spoke up, agreeing in one way or another. Teeth were bared, and body parts I didn’t have made increasingly urgent threat displays.

I, the only human and the newest arrival to the team, stayed well in the back. This really wasn’t my business. I didn’t have much of a say. And I didn’t like the direction it was going.

When Pockap the ex-captain started yelling, I gave up on playing silent witness and ducked into the next room. I’d seen him pull a tiny stun gun out of nowhere before, hidden among his tentacles, and I didn’t like the odds of him opening fire on the crew.

Just as I thought that, he yelled “Who emptied the charge in this??” Then came the loud slap of a tentacle against someone’s face, followed by insulted gasps and an open brawl.

I edged farther from the door, looking around and realizing I’d trapped myself in the storage room where the extra stun guns were kept. Great choice. Stellar. And there was only one door.

Time to be a hide-and-seek champion, I thought as the sounds of alien violence grew closer. Somebody else gets to wrestle the octopus with the gun.

My hiding options weren’t great: under a table, behind a crate, maybe inside a cabinet, and the ventilation shaft was too small. The table and crate were terrible coverage. The cabinet with the stun guns was close to the door, but the one against the far wall looked big enough. I dashed over and flung it open.

Yup, that’ll do. Only the bottom shelves were full; the top three held just a couple stray tools, and I knew from time spent cleaning that the shelves were removable. I yanked out the top ones, stashed them below, then climbed in to curl up in a space that was roomier than my childhood closet. I crouched among wrenches and whatever, watching through the air slits as I pulled the door shut, making sure to keep it from latching. Locking myself in was another problem I didn’t need.

Speaking of problems, I thought as Pockap spun into the room, his green tentacles thrashing against Mur’s dark blue ones in a cartoonish tumble. I’d never seen two Strongarms fight before. It was kind of funny. They were slapping at each other’s faces and going for eye gouges, which meant neither could see where they were going. They knocked over the table and spread tools all over the floor before anyone else caught up.

When the twin Frillians waded in to break it up, followed by other beefy crewmembers, an unfortunate development happened: Pockap found a stun gun.

“Back off!” he shouted, blasting the nearest Frillian in the face and wriggling free of Mur’s grasp. Mur ducked behind a box while the other Frillian caught her frozen brother before he could hurt himself against the floor. Pockap froze her too, then brandished the gun at everyone else, yelling about how much the stun would hurt when it wore off, and how they had better respect him or else.

I held very still inside my cabinet.

What can I do? I thought. Too bad I can’t call the other ship from here. Nobody’s told Kamm yet. I shifted in place to keep my feet from falling asleep, and nudged the random tools I hadn’t cleared out. I froze at the scraping noise.

No one heard; they were all busy shouting at each other.

What even is this one — Oh hey. I rested my hand on the distinct shape of another stun gun. Whoever put things away last time did a terrible job, and I thank them for it.

I held it up in the dim light. Half power. Good enough for self defense. Or…

“One step closer and you’re spending the rest of the trip as a statue!” Pockap was yelling. “Only thawing out to hurt before getting frozen again!”

I opened the door just enough to snake my arm through, aimed, and zapped him in the back of the head.

Pockap froze mid-rant, and slowly toppled forward. Stunned silence filled the room until somebody saw my hand.

“Ha!” Sunlight laughed. “Is there a human in there? How did you fit? Great shot.”

I opened the door the rest of the way to loud approval, with half the crew exclaiming over the way their tall new crewmate folded up so well, and the rest dealing with Pockap’s mess.

“No amicable splitting of ways for this one,” Mur declared, cradling a sprained tentacle. “I won’t be writing him a reference.”

“No, I don’t think any of us will,” Sunlight said. She gazed at him thoughtfully as I climbed down. “Let’s call Kamm. No point in waiting til we land; she’ll want to know.”

“I’ll put the stun guns away,” I volunteered. “This cabinet is full of things in the wrong place.”

“Thank you,” Sunlight told me. “How did you fit in there? You have bones. Have you practiced hiding in tight spaces before?”

“No more than the next person,” I said. “Though I was really good at hide-and-seek as a kid.”

The lizardy alien blinked at me. “Hide and what?”

“It’s where everybody hides and one person has to find them,” I explained. “Then the last person found has to take a turn as the seeker.”

Zhee tipped the table back upright with his pincher arms. “Half of that sounds like a standard predator game, but I can’t imagine taking turns being prey too. How embarrassing.”

I shrugged. “If you say so. It was pretty useful today.”

“Yes,” Sunlight said with a smile. “You’re only prey until you decide otherwise! That’s the spirit. Well, we’re grateful for your childhood practice today. Let’s get this unworthy individual locked up, then talk strategy. I have some ideas of how we can improve on Pockap’s business plan that I think everyone will be on board with.”

I had no doubt. Captain Piercing Sunlight would be a much better leader than her predecessor.

She started off by giving me a bonus for putting my skills to good use, so clearly she was very wise.

~~~

The further adventures in backstory for the book! There’s more to come.

#humans are weird #humans are space orcs #hide and seek #haso #hfy #eiad #my writing #the Token Human

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greywritesthings · 6 months

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Complete contradiction

Spencer Reid x BAU!Reader

Warnings; none I'm pretty sure

A/N; Longest fic so far, not very long by others standards but its 2 and a small paragraph pages so a lot compared to my normal one page fic. I really really like this one so any reblogs & comments would be especially appreciated on this one! (this also isnt proof read srry) also for additional context reader is also a classified genius and I do plan on making this a series :)

Taglist; @reidstheyfriend

SR Masterlist

Masterlist

read on Ao3 instead!

You peeled off your coat and dropped your bag at the door, not bothering to hang them up for now, solely focused on getting to your sofa so you could sit down. You had just gotten back from two cases in a row, meaning you were bone achingly exhausted. you had a case in Arizona followed by an emergency case involving a child in Texas then back to Virginia where you had given pretty much all the team a curt goodbye, texting Spencer a simple I love you and throwing him a smile before getting in your car. You had been with the BAU for a year now but were still yet to let your guard down around them all. You only trusted Spencer fully given he was your boyfriend and you had known him before coming to the BAU, you met when he was doing his third PHD and you were on your second.

Spencer had spent a lot of time with you while you did your PHD, you were working on your criminal psychology doctorate after finishing your first one in Philosophy while he did his in chemistry. You bonded well, at first spending time in the library or lab together but soon enough you decided to start working together at your apartment, where Spencer had learnt you were very different at home compared to how you were outside.

You dressed like a typical academic, dark tones with some purples and greens thrown in, your makeup was light but you often had on dark eyeliner and lipstick, you came off as cold and intimidating to everyone in looks and you weren't very friendly in tone, you just had a soft spot for the boy genius. Many would think your house would be the same, covered in books, dark colours throughout too but it was nearly the opposite. Once you walked through the door there was colour near enough everywhere, not migraine inducing neon but there were shades of light greys purples and greens covering the walls with mandala tapestries and other art pieces joining them. A striped rug with shades of pink, yellow and orange covered the floor of the living room underneath a dark coffee table in between two large patchwork sofas, a pink lamp stood in the corner on top of a small green table . Your kitchen was also brushed with colour, bright blue cabinets with light wooden countertops with a rainbow variety of cutlery, kitchen utensils, bowls and plates, your book cases throughout the apartment had books with custom dust jackets on so they were in theme with the rest of the house, you had picked up making them during highschool out of boredom. Your house was the opposite of you, and also the opposite of Spencer, who preferred the darker themes all around.

You also had divided your wardrobe up into your working outfits and your not working outfits. Whenever you were going to set foot at work or when you met spencer, university, you wore your darker more academic and professional outfits and once you were home you wore colourful outfits. It helped you to compartmentalise the job so you didn't burn out or stress as much. When you were off work you lived in sweaters, dungarees and dresses in colours and styles that made you happy. When you and Spencer were together off work you looked like the complete contradiction of one another for people who worked so well and were identical in many other ways.

You picked yourself up from the couch and trudged over to your bedroom to go and change into your choice of clothes for the evening. When you look through your closet you decide on a white turtleneck and pastel pink dungarees, putting on some fuzzy socks and leaving your hair down for now so you can settle in for the night making some new jackets for Spencer's books. His books were beaten up from all the travelling he did with them and they were starting to fall apart, especially the older ones, so you were making them in hopes that it would slow down the damage.

You were so focused on your project that you didn't hear the door unlocking, you were used to Spencer letting himself in so it didn't put you on alert, not until you heard a voice who definitely wasn't supposed to be at your door, let alone inside your apartment. “Oh my god, are we in the right place?” Penelope squealed from your doorway. “I don’t think we should be here, she's private and this is certainly something she doesn't want us to know.” You hear Rossi suggest. “Guys it'll be fine, what's the worst that could happen?” Morgan assures, you're now almost certain that at least JJ and Emily are here, possibly Hotch given aside from Spencer he was the only one with a spare key for safety purposes. Spencer wasn't with them you guessed, he was coming home after he finished up some paperwork at the university he had been requested to do last minute on a friday so he was coming over around eight PM.

“You can come in instead of letting my heating out.” You may not look as intimidating but you can sound as cold as ever given you just had six people show up on your door and let themselves in. They all come in, awkwardly standing in the doorway as Hotch closes the door behind him. “Sorry for barging in y/n, I wanted to stop by and drop off your bag as you had left it behind at the office and Reid was gone and then the others, insisted on following me, I apologise again for the intrusion.” Hotch is nearly as formal with you as he is with strangers, you knew it was because the only things he knew about you were the things he was told by Strauss and your file, maybe also your favourite books if he managed to take a look at your open kindle on your desk sometimes. “Go make yourselves at home, leave two seats free on the sofa, also go snoop if you want, just stay out of the last room on the right, that's my bedroom.” you nod towards Garcia who practically lights up, both at your lighter tone and at the prospect of being let in to your personality. The girls and Morgan all go off to explore your apartment while Rossi and Hotch head over to the couches.

After a while the others are done exploring your home meaning you were all now sat together, you had passed around some hot chocolates and teas, you didn't drink coffee and over time had transitioned spencer to do the same so he didn't dump half a bag of sugar into his coffee just to make it drinkable for him. You weren't entirely relaxed but you were more so in your own home compared to in the bureau. You explained your way of separating work and home through your different ways of dressing, you also opened up on some of your history with Spencer, not quite yet letting on the fact you were together. You both had places of your own for safety reasons alongside not wanting to make your ever snooping coworkers suspicious. You thought you would be safe in hiding your relationship until you lost track of time and Spencer walked through the door and called to you automatically. “I'm home sweetheart!” pausing when he heard the chatter in the living room die down, when he turned around after hanging his coat and bag up on the hooks he looked nervously at you as you nodded at him, signalling you were okay if he was. With that he visibly relaxed as the screeching began from the girls once again while Hotch and Rossi just smiled at you, Hotch having already knew as you had to declare your relationship when you started at the bureau some years after spencer, opting to do some more teaching work and get your third PHD in linguistics before taking up a role in the BAU with him.

It was several hours later when the team eventually left with you promising you would join them on the next team gathering. You then got to curl up on the sofa in Spencer's arms watching nature documentaries and reading French novels, the way you normally would, with the thought of maybe you could wear something colourful on Monday, maybe a burnt orange to ease into it.

#greyswritings #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid x you

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fireflyinks · 1 year

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needy ☆

draco malfoy x reader angst/smut

a/n : OMG IM SO PROUD OF THIS. i hope y’all like it as much as i do because i loved writing it.

contains : p in v, fingering, use of y/n (literally just once), draco’s kind of a death eater idk if this counts though, praise, cursing

summary : makeup sex 🫡

Mature Content 18+

He wants to get a reaction out of me.

Draco Malfoy was known for his cruelty. Mean was his middle name. His scowls and arrogance proved this time and time again, and yet he seemed to be a different person around me. A kind, gentle, loving person. Until I make him angry.

Sitting on the common room couch, I watched as Draco felt up some slutty Slytherin girl, who wore a green dress two sizes too small.

The common room was decorated beautifully. Christmas was days away, and the scenery showed it. Holly was placed on almost every surface, along with a ginormous tree in the corner of the room. And yet, all I could seem to look at was Draco.

At first, I wanted to be angry. But that was just the reaction he wanted. I felt tears begin to form at my waterline, but that would’ve also given him satisfaction.

So I sat, and I watched. Ever so often, Draco would make eye contact with me, and smirk. God, I’ve never seen such an evil smirk in all of my days. He was enjoying this, Draco enjoyed making me miserable.

I stood up from the couch, smoothed my silky ivory colored dress with my hands, and went up to my dorm gracefully.

—

As my mother kissed me goodbye, I dreaded stepping onto the Hogwarts Express. I dreaded seeing him.

Draco and I hadn’t spoken in two weeks, the longest we’d ever gone without eachother. I couldn’t believe that he hadn’t reached out to me. Looking back, our argument before the party wasn’t even my fault. All I asked was why he had been skipping classes, and he went berserk. ‘That’s what you get when you worry about someone’ I thought.

I sat with a couple of friends on the train, trying my best to avoid Draco. Luckily, Pansy’s story about the boy she met at a dinner party she’d attended was interesting enough to distract me.

The first few days were casual, I manage to not come into close contact with Draco at all. But like clockwork, we were assigned a potions project together.

I pleaded with Snape, begging him to reconsider, but he refused.

That night, I couldn’t sleep. I had too much on my mind. Sneaking down to the common room, I froze when I saw Draco, sitting on the couch while reading.

I began to quickly leave, until I heard his voice call out to me.

“Wait, don’t go.”

Sighing, I turned to face him. His expression was one I’d never seen on him before.

Needy.

“What do you want, Draco?” I asked, annoyed.

He got up from his place on the couch, walking over to me.

“I need to talk to you. And I need you to listen.”

I thought for a moment. Why should I? He made it very clear what he thought about me and our relationship.

“Why don’t you go talk to that girl you were feeling up?” I couldn’t help it, I had the right to at least one snarking comment.

Draco shook his head, “I don’t even remember her name.”

I rolled my eyes, “What do you want to talk about.”

He gulped, beginning to roll his sleeve up slowly. My eyes almost bulged out of my head when I saw it.

“What the fuck?”

The dark mark.

It felt as if I couldn’t breath. How could he throw everything away like this?

“Draco, why?” I sobbed out, tears running down my cheeks.

“It wasn’t my choice, n/n. I had to.”

Not thinking, I threw my arms around him. All of the pent up anger I felt towards him was gone.

“I’m sorry about that night. I was so hurt and stressed out, I wasn’t thinking. That’s not a good excuse though.”

I shook my head, “Don’t worry about it, that’s the least of my concerns at the moment.” I looked up into his eyes, tracing the death mark on his arm with my finger. “What’s going to happen?”

“I don’t know. But I want to enjoy the little freedom I have left. I want to enjoy it with you.”

Before I knew it, Draco’s lips were on mine.

He mouthed moved slower than usual, which surprised me. Draco was not the type to take it slow. No, he was the opposite. And yet here we were, our mouths moving dangerously slow.

“Dray-“ I spoke through the kiss, earning a ‘hm?’ from him.

“I need you.” I said shakily. He placed a hand on the back of my neck, pushing me closer to him.

“Then have me.”

We made our way over to the couch, and Draco sat as I straddled his lap. We continued to kiss, though it got more sloppy as time went on.

“God, I miss this.” Draco said as he removed my shirt. “Nobody has ever been as good to me as you are.”

I blushed, feeling his hands on my chest. He massaged my tits, until he eventually attached his mouth to one of them. I moaned, throwing my head back.

“You like that?” He asked, earning an eager nod from my head.

His hands found my waist band, pulling off the sweats I’d been wearing. He rubbed my core through my panties, causing me to buck my hips.

“You’re so needy for me, princess.”

Pushing my panties to the side, he slipped one finger in, stroking my walls again and again.

“Fuck~ Draco, I need your cock.”

The smirk on his face said it all. “Hm? What was that? What did you say?”

“I need your cock!” I said a bit louder.

Draco shook his head. “There she is. There’s my dirty girl.”

Pulling his trousers down, Draco crawled on top of me. He kissed my neck as he grinded his bulge onto my heat.

Satisfied with my responsive whines, he released his cock and slowly pushed inside of me.

My eyes rolled back as he filled me to the brim, quickly beginning to thrust in and out of me.

“Draco~ God you fill me up so good.”

He groaned, placing a kiss on my forehead. “If you keep talking like that, princess, I won’t be able to last much longer.”

His pace became ruthless quickly. Sounds of slaps skin filled the room and I’m sure someone could probably hear us. But did I care? Fuck no.

There was something about the way he looked at me in these moments. So lustfully. I could see in his eyes that he was scared. Scared of losing me, scared of losing himself. I had to be there for him, whether I liked it or not.

“I’m so close, Dray.” I moaned breathlessly.

Draco nodded, “Me too, love. Go ahead, come on my cock.”

With my newfound permission, a coil seemed to snap inside of me, and I released as he continued to thrust inside of me. The feeling was devine.

His lips found mine and he came inside of me not long after. His thrusts continued, though they were shaky and sloppy.

“I love you so so so much Y/n.”

I panted, digging my nails into his back, “I love you too.”

Afterwards, he took me up to his dorm, and gave me one of his shirts to wear to sleep. We washed up, before cuddling. I tried my best to get some sleep, though I couldn’t help but stare at the dark mark on his forearm for hours.

#draco lucius malfoy #draco malfoy #draco malfoy smut #fanfiction #harry potter #hogwarts #harry potter fanfiction #smut #angst #draco malfoy angst #harry potter angst

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wiltedprayers · 4 months

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i know Bastogne is universally recognized as the Best Band of Brothers episode and listen, I get it and also agree in the sense that the story portrayed is the most interesting and overall it's incredibly well written. but I'd just like to point out the excellence that's episode 5, "Crossroads."

(Crossroads is the episode that focuses the most on Dick Winters — ep 1, 2, and later 10 also do but it's not as centralized as it is here — We follow Dick through an anachronistic series of events, and the episode ends with E company moving towards Bastogne. It's directed by Tom Hanks.)

I love this episode because of all the different creative choices it has and how it stands out visually and sonically in comparison to all the other eps. so in technical aspects, it's my favorite of the bunch. this distinction is exemplary in the sequences that go from Dick writing his report quietly in his office to him leading the attack on the SS companies. It's very interesting to me how loud and obnoxious the typing gets for both Dick and the audience after a while; in the battlefield, there's nothing to pull Dick out of his concentration, always the focused leader. he has a mission to do, and he intends to carry it out as smoothly as possible (as seen in this episode). in the office, though, he's distracted, losing track of time, almost physically feeling the noises of the typewriter as if it was the sound of a gun going off inside his ears.

the back and forth between time periods is amazing. the sound design in this episode is my personal favorite (in a show with explosions and rifles, you wouldn't think a clacking typewriter and a man out of breath would be the reason for this). the combined sounds of Dick writing with the gunshots going off, the change in paragraphs with the tearing of the tape? Dick and the company running towards the enemy (clearly screaming) with nothing but the sounds of their breaths and footsteps making noise? just excellent sound design.

also, the cinematography. I could talk for hours about how good this episode's photography and lighting are. there's this particular moment I love after Alley is shown to be hit and bleeding on the barn table, where we immediately cut to Dick writing about this in his report. it's all about the stark contrast between the lived experience of seeing one of your men badly wounded and then simply writing and reading about it.

the night shots as well. it's very easy to fail in making a night scene both properly lit but also indicative of the time (some shows make it look dark as shit basically), but Band of Brothers does it well: in the first pic, you only have the moonlight as illumination, which is not much, but it helps to get you into Dick's perspective of having to go through this mission in the depths of night with such a limited field of vision.

there's several night scenes in this episode, most notably the battle on the Crossroads, but also Operation Pegasus, the night Moose is shot, Dick in Paris, and then Easy company going into Bastogne.

finally, the color grading. band of brothers is a strange show that's always changing in its color grading — maybe the different directors had no prior discussion before filming the episodes, as it happened with the writers' room, but I doubt this — nevertheless, Crossroads' color grading stands out, specially in the long-awaited scene of E company charging against the SS companies.

the high contrast of the dark shadows with the desaturated greens (and later reds) make for quite a sight, especially if you compare it to the warmer tones of the present scenes of Dick writing. the show wants you to know how different these moments are for Dick, who under fire is collected and focused but is ultimately crumbling under the bureaucratic pressure.

also I freaking love all the shots and framing of the typewriter. nothing to say other than they're cool as hell.

and this isn't even covering the emotional and character-driven aspects of the story! (that's a post for another day, maybe). for me Crossroads is a masterpiece of an episode in what it means to use camera, lighting, and sound to make your story as immersing as possible; it connects beautifully all technical aspects of filmmaking and, in my opinion, delivers one of the show's best episodes (that's accompanied with a great script.)

#band of brothers #dick winters #maybe Hanks did eat a bit by directing this episode. i guess

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asksythe · 1 month

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FGO Fes 2024 "CHALDEA Treasure Hunting" Oberon Edition Experience Video (Earphones recommended / Low volume recommended) Original Video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8dElTAHf0m0

Disclaimer: the translation is rushed, so there's probably room for improvement. I'm just posting this here for personal keeping since similar videos have been taken down from Youtube in the past.

Note: The context for this part of the event storyline is that Ritsuka is sent on a treasure hunt for a lost Holy Grail (as it goes) by Goredorf. She gets to choose one among several servants (Aesclepius, Takasugi, Tiamat, etc...) to go with her. Only one though. This video is the Oberon choice. Yes, it is very otome game-esque. 😁

--TRANSLATION--

Come on an unforgettable adventure with me, the Fairy King Oberon!

“It’s a steam town!”

You…you’re a 20th-century kid, aren’t you?

You should be used to this kinda thing, shouldn’t you?

Ah, well, I get how it can be so exciting. It’s just as consumeristic as your era, but this atmosphere does have a certain romance to it.

It’s an era focused on industrial design that exposes its mechanical insides.

It really is the strength of humanity to imagine such a contradictory world.

Ritsuka Choice 1: “Thanks for taking me here.”

Ritsuka Choice 2: “You really are a dependable partner!”

What are you on about? Of course, I am! With such an invitation as yours, I, Oberon the Fairy King, will spread my wings and come flying your way!

Ah, my time really has flown though. Would you be able to bend the rules a bit? What shall we do on this chance adventure! Gotta look your best though, eh! 😉 Now then, according to this steam clock, there happens to a Blessed Holy Grail located underground! If we find it, we’re bound to get a bunch of QP, am I right? Let me repay my debt to you!

However, for this city looking so mechanical, there really are a lot of stairs…Not a single elevator to be seen! Well, let’s just get over with and go down. If only we could fly, but as you know my wings are a mere decoration. Perhaps I should ask DaVinci to make me some, then? Ah no, [rest of question to self not very audible]

Ritsuka Choice 1: “Oberon…! Wait!”

Ritsuka Choice 2: “I can’t see anything!”

Uh…did you say something? Sorry sorry, my attention must’ve drifted elsewhere.

Oh…our faces must be close, aren’t they?

Are you alright?

Man, you should look at your face! It’s a shame it’s so dark. If I had a camera, I would’ve taken a picture. Oh no, I meant nothing by that. Really though, it’s just I’ve never seen your face like that. It’s not your nerves in battle, nor the fear of death! Don’t look at me like a child there…ah, never mind. Putting it into words just takes the fun out of it.

More important than that, it’s that the two of us are alone down here. No fearsome enemies to be seen. Just us two enjoying a trip on this road together. The path seems to get narrower from here. Grab my hand and let’s head in! Don’t get too far from me, okay? Come on, give me your hand.

It’s really dark now. This must be the lowest level. Just one way to go now. I think it should be quite simple now!

Mm? Hmm? That’s what? From the back? Oh no, something unexpected happened again! Quick, Master!

This is a stubborn one! And it’s gaining on us to boot!

Ah the light’s starting to come through! Keep going!!!

There’s no way forward!

Get down, Master! Your hand!

Master and Oberon hold onto each other as they fell down.

To the bottom of the deep, deep darkness they went.

Sigh…the artist drowns in his art. Good grief. Who would’ve thought the road would be destroyed. Well, guess I’m just used to falling. It’s just a little [something] more than usual now.

O-----www.. Ah Master, are you alright?

After all that, there are an unbelievable amount of flowers here, aren’t there? More than enough for a lifetime! Flowers are always blooming somewhere you know? Water. Sun. Flowers. Bugs… Green. It’s all a cycle.

Yep, that was me who set the grail there. Let me know when you go an adventure, okay? Ah, the request itself was true! It’s just…you weren’t as calm as I thought you’d be so it didn’t go exactly as planned. Today is a very blessed day for you. That’s import-

Marine Nemo: Captain! I found Oberon! [We found him!]

Prof. Nemo: I believe Oberon is continuing to reject our transmissions~

Capt. Nemo: Ah, we finally connected! Oberon, is Master alright? When you went down, our signal got cut off.

Oberon: Oh my, I didn’t know about any of that! Master is alright and has even taken a Holy Grail! It’s no problem at all!

Eng. Nemo: ‘n that case, get yer ass back ‘ere already! After that, spill yer guts! Nurse Nemo: If either are injured, I can attend to you, so please feel free to ask.

Capt. Nemo: Everyone! Be quiet for a moment. Oberon, Master, above all else, I’m glad you’re safe. I really do want you to take your time to enjoy the town. If you would be so kind, could you take some photos for future reference? There must be so many vehicles in the Steam Town, certainly.

Oberon: Yep! We’re happy to bring souvenirs to you, Captain! After all, we gotta lift the engineer’s spirits too eh!

Eng. Nemo: I-It’s not like I’d want a motorbike or anything! Well…I have been thinkin’ ‘bout some extra parts for my Penguin Potter, so…

Oberon: Okay then! I’ll be right on the lookout for it! Well then, see you at Chaldea then.

Bakery Nemo: I’ll be baking a warm basket (of bread) for you then!

Oberon: Well right then. Let’s go back to the surface and let’s stroll around the town til the sun goes down! So messy and covered in grease and full of all kinds of shady shops it may be though. They’ll all become beautiful memories though. After all, as long as there are unknown worlds about, that means there are wonderful adventures to be had, right?

#fate grand order #ritsuka fujimaru #obeguda #oberon #fgo

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thesturniolos · 9 months

Text

tiny red dress pt 1

m.sturniolo x reader

༉‧₊˚🕯️🖤❀༉‧₊˚.

warnings: nsfw/, alcohol, swearing, arguing, angst

this is for my fave @sturniolosstar 🤗🤗, merry christmas hun <3

summary: reader goes to a party in an outfit matt doesn’t approve of and things escalate prettyyyyy quickly..

tags: @strniohoeee @sturniolopepsi @kirby0strombolli @sturniolotripletsarehot @freshlovehacker @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @chrisdevora @christinarowie332 @mattslolita @mattsgirlforeva @chrisolivia4l @mattsturn @sturniolosluvv @sturnsclutter @sturnsblunt @sturnsbaby @sturnsreader @sturnsbae @byechristopher @bluesturniolo333 @recklesssturniolo @klarasmith @pr1ncessm1ng1 @oversturn @ilovemattsturn @thesturniolos @estelleswrld @strawberrysturniolo @struniolos @sturniolooooo @sturnsstar @dailysturniolo @deatthmatch @cabincorematt @mattsturniolosgf

i can feel his gaze from half way across the room piercing through my burning hot skin, he’s been like it all night ever since he started an argument about my dress choice.

it’s a dark red dress with a lace detailing around the neck and at the rim, clearly too ‘revealing’ as matt begged for me to wear something else.

the dress fit perfectly against the curves of my body and i had the perfect pair of heels to go with it, it would make no sense for me to go and find another outfit.

it’s the famous christmas party of boston and it’s something everyone looks forward to, especially me. which is why i bought my outfit months prior, i just kept it a little secret from my boyfriend and for good reason as his reaction was very much not surprising.

when i walked out from our shared bathroom, he eyed me up and down before shaking his head and scoffing. was it not pretty? i’ve worn things like this before and he barely even cared.

“seriously, matt?” i walk over to him, adjusting the straps of the dress and reaching my hand out to touch his.

before i can get to him, he walks out of our room and down the stairs, slamming the door of our house.

getting that mad over a dress? come on.

driving to our friends house, he didn’t speak one word to me and when i tried to apologise he turned on the aux to blur my voice.

storming into the house party, i quickly found my way to the middle of the dance floor and soon forgot about our stupid argument once i got distracted with the boundless amounts of fun i was having with my friends.

dancing wasn’t really my thing but after a few drinks i was quite happily moving my hips to any song that came on the speaker, my friends jokingly pushing against me as we formed a small circle directly in the middle.

but peering from the kitchen island was matt and boy was he angry, his fist clenched against the cold marble, a red cup in the other pressed to his lip, staring directly at me.

as we make eye contact, a guy appears in front of me, blocking my view of matt.

he had blonde hair, slightly long and fluffy towards the front of his head, green eyes and was wearing a tracksuit, holding a drink in his hand.

he looks down to my legs and smirks, “hey pretty”

i turn around to face my friends but they’re nowhere in sight, “i have a boyfriend”

he looks around. “i can’t see him.”

“and?”

“well, you’re all alone and i can’t help but notice how good that dress looks on you.”

“i don’t know if you’ve noticed but every other girl in this place is wearing a dress nearly identical to mine and to be honest, you’re the only one sticking out here with your tracksuit. it’s not exactly party attire.”

“glad to know i stuck out to you.”

“that’s not what i mea-“

“nice to meet you, matt sturniolo.” suddenly, matt appears from behind him and holds out a hand to shake. “i don’t believe we’ve met.”

“i think you’re right, bud. can i help you?”

“yeah, back away from my girl.” he moves in front of him and pushes me back from him slightly.

i bump into my friend and she pulls a look upon seeing the heated situation.

“well if she was your girl, then what’s she doing talking to me?” matts jaw tenses and he looks behind him to face me and i shake my head. “a skimpy red dress and dancing like that, she’s kinda asking for it”

and with those words, matts fist collided with his face and he falls back, holding his nose and looking down to see blood dripping onto the floor.

“next time i see you, make sure you stay away from me and her and if we do cross, make sure you shut your fucking mouth.” matt pushes past the crowd, leaving me in the middle surrounded by my friends and the guy staring at me angrily.

before he can say something to me, i try and follow matt to where i can only assume he’s walking back to the car.

“matt! just wait!” i yell, desperately trying to get through the vast amounts of drunken people blocking my every move.

by the time i’m out of the house, he’s already slamming his door shut and i run to my side to open it.

his head is rested in his hand and his arm is perched onto the door, his knee is bouncing and the silence in the car is so loud that i can hear the cogs in my brain whirring.

“matt, i swear i wasn’t talking to him-“

“but you were.” he snaps back, still not looking at me. “i was watching you talk to him, do not try and bullshit me.”

“he came up to me, it’s not like i went up to him.”

“that’s not even the point. you knew he wanted you, why did you carry on talking to him? do you get some kind of thrill from knowing he liked you?” he’s staring at me now and he’s angry. his brows are furrowed and he’s thrown his hands in the air.

“what the hell? why would i- what’s wrong with you? why would you even think that, matt!”

“because you turn up to that stupid party in the shortest little dress that is literally guaranteed to make any guy look. i told you. i told you that i didn’t like it and you still went and wore it.”

“because you can’t control what i wear, matt. that’s my decision.”

“you promised that shit wouldn’t happen and hell, it did.” i’m angry now, how is it my fault boys can’t keep shit to themselves?

“don’t try and blame this on me, matthew. i didn’t ask for him to look at me or talk to me, i was dancing with my friends, enjoying myself. is it such a crime to wear a dress? a literal dress.”

he sits in silence and his hands are on the wheel in front of him, knuckles white from the pressure.

“you’re mine, do you know that?” his voice is gravely and hoarse, he doesn’t look at me but it’s the most assertive he’s ever sounded.

“what?”

“you belong to me. nobody can look at what’s mine.” his eyes are dark and his grip on the car loosens and he reaches over to grab my jaw.

“you understand that?” his hold on my face and the intense eye contact between the two of us creates a pool in between my legs as i squeeze my thighs together to relieve some of the tension.

i nod and he shakes his head before looking towards the road in front of him again. we were nearly home, thank god. i needed him and i could tell he needed me, this was about to be so good.

“i need words, not those pathetic responses- use your mouth, i know it’s capable.” i stare stunned, he’s not usually like this. in fact, this new attitude he’s suddenly picked up is working miracles on my heart as it beats in my chest a hundred to the dozen and the heat from my face travels down my body.

“i understand.”

a silence settles within the car and i shuffle around, quickly getting agitated from the throbbing feeling as my thighs fail to make me feel any better.

“keep moving those legs you slut, it’s the last time you’ll be able to for a while.”

#matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #sturniolo #vinnie hacker imagines #matt sturniolo fan fiction #matt sturniolo angst #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo smut

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eco-lite · 11 months

Text

Finally making more progress on the pile of ST books I own but have yet to read. Here’s some good stuff from The Vulcan Academy Murders by Jean Lorrah.

[Image ID: The cover of the book The Vulcan Academy Murders. The background has lots of dark purple tones. In the foreground, Spock stands with a phaser pointed at a Vulcan creature with green skin, a cat-like face, a fin down its back, sharp claws, and a long tail. The creature is hissing down at Spock from a rock. End ID]

First of all, what is going on with this cover? Nothing like this happens in the book.

[Text ID: “Kirk recalled that all male Vulcans were married—had to be—and glanced at Spock. His First Officer, however, was very busy inspecting the almost un-touched wine in his glass.” End ID]

Interesting interesting. 👀

[Text ID: “Kirk had been given Spock’s room (underlined red by me) and McCoy the guest room in Sarek’s house—a house far from anything Kirk would ever have imagined as the home Spock had grown up in. He had envisioned either a sterile, unadorned ‘environment,’ or a castlelike ancestral residence. Instead, the house on the outskirts of ShiKahr was a simple single-family dwelling.” End ID]

This book is way too casual about Kirk sleeping in Spock’s childhood bedroom. Also, there’s no mention of where Spock is sleeping while they’re there???

[Text ID: “He remembered forcing Spock to control his emotions when he was five, and his schoolfellows taunted him for being ‘different.’ Under his father’s tutelage, Spock had refused to cry when the others shut him out of their games, calling him ‘Earther’ and ‘half-breed.’ Amanda had hidden her tears from their son, and Sarek had hidden his anger. Or had he? Perhaps I directed it at my son instead, he realized. He had intended to prepare Spock for whatever lack of acceptance he would face in life. And the message Spock received was that his own father did not accept him as he was, had to mold him into something he deemed acceptable.” End ID]

We love reflecting on our past mistakes. 👏🏼 We love character growth. 👏🏼

[Text ID: “’A computer cannot lie,’ said Spock. ‘Nevertheless, this one is giving false information.’ ‘Why don’t you try playing chess with it?’ came a voice from the doorway. Sarek turned to find Leonard McCoy, bouncing on his toes and grinning.” End ID]

I love them. I can picture this so perfectly.

[Text ID: “’What dost thou know of Surak?’ she asked finally—but her voice spoke more of perplexity than challenge. ‘What everyone knows: he was the founder of Vulcan philosophy. I know he is a personal hero to my friend Spock, the way Abraham Lincoln, from human history, is to me.’” End ID]

Kirk will bring up Abe Lincoln whenever he has a chance. That’s canon now.

[Text ID: “’You are not only anything, Spock. You are more, not less, because of your dual heritage. It is fruitless to wish now that I had made that clearer to you when you were a child.’ ‘You wanted me to be Vulcan.’ ‘That is true,’ Sarek agreed. ‘And you are Vulcan, representative of IDIC in its fullest sense.’ Spock studied his father. ‘You never put it to me that way. The last time you and I spoke as father and son, before I went to Starfleet Academy, you reminded me of how important it was that I think of myself as Vulcan. Do you remember your words, father?’ Sarek remembered. ‘I am Vulcan by birth. Your mother is Vulcan by choice. You are Vulcan by both birth and choice.’ ‘And then I disappointed you by making a different choice.’ Sarek searched his memory, trying to recover the logical reason for what now seemed completely irrational. Finally, he said simply, ‘I was wrong.’” End ID]

Yes! Let’s talk about our feelings! Let’s resolve those daddy issues!

[Text ID: “He went back to his room—Spock’s room, really. Kirk had brought with him a sturdy suit and boots, for Spock had suggested they might go camping in the mountains after the summer heat abated. (Last sentence underlined in red by me.) He put on the boots and the trousers to the suit, but decided the heavy shirt would be far too hot—" End ID]

Spock wanted to take them camping. 🥹

[Text ID: “‘He will recover, though?’ asked Spock. ‘Yeah—you can see him later, Spock,’ said the doctor. ‘He’s gonna be in considerable pain—you’re probably the only person he’ll be able to stand. Your son would’ve made a good doctor,’ he added to Sarek. ‘I don’t know how he does it, but he’s really good with people in pain.’ Spock’s eyebrows shot up at the unexpected compliment from the man Sarek usually saw him trade barbs with. Then Leonard left them to go back to his patient, and Spock turned to Sarek. ‘May I ask you something, Father?’ ‘What is it, Spock?’ ‘When Mother became conscious, you called her…?’ ‘Beloved.’” End ID]

Spock being very concerned about Kirk’s injuries. Bones saying Spock is the only person Kirk would tolerate while in pain. Spock asking his father about expressing love for an outworlder. It’s a lot.

#the vulcan academy murders #jean lorrah #star trek #star trek novels #star trek tos #star trek books #spirk

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1d1195 · 1 year

Text

Traditional II

Read the first part here

This part got a bit away from me. But I kinda like it. Hope you enjoy!

“Do men hold doors open for you, love?” He asked.

She blinked. “I’m sorry?”

“I will take that as a no, then,” he chuckled. “I would like t’hold doors open for y’whenever I can,” he explained.

“Oh,” she said in surprise. “Well, thank you.”

“M’pleasure.”

Niall was very accommodating when she arrived. “Hey darlin’,” he smiled holding his hand out. “Nice t’see you again. Did you find everything okay?” He asked.

At the same time, she was trying to take in the beautiful, shiny floors that clicked with heels and others shoes all the way down the long hall. There were glass rooms spaced out at regular intervals between the beautiful wooden doors that looked like they belonged to a vintage castle.

“Yes, thank you. So far so good,” she smiled nervously. In the back of her head, she was thinking about that introductory message Harry sent her. Harry Styles. Styles. Certainly, Styles Incorporated was not the same Harry. The world wasn’t that cruel. Right? Harry would have said something. Even some low-on-the-totem-pole intern would have sparked something in the boss of a successful company like this while perusing a website for a girl to spoil.

“Great,” he smiled. “Follow me, I’ll show you around.” Her phone vibrated in her bag’s front pocket. As Niall showed her the breakroom with a half kitchen and spacious table, she put her lunch in the fridge and checked the message. Have a great day, love. You’ll do great. Excited to meet you later and hear all about it. No, he didn’t know. She decided. He would have said ‘See you around’ or something like that.Sliding her phone back into its space she turned her attention back to Niall. “Nervous?” He asked with a grin.

She nodded then shrugged with a nervous chuckle escaping her lips. “Kind of,” she admitted. “You’re very nice. I’m worried I’ll mess up.”

“Then you’re going to do great,” he chuckled and tilted his head toward the hallway. “This whole floor is ours; your office is small—sorry about that. A makeshift attempt and you deserve better. If it’s any consolation, most days m’not even in the office so you can lounge around and do your work in my space. I tried convincing Harry that you’ll need more but—”

She blinked and felt her heart rate take off before she could stop. No. “Harry?” She questioned, interrupting quickly.

Niall smirked. “My best friend...and the boss. Don’t worry, he’s a softie at heart. Just don’t lie to him. He loves authenticity. M’sure you’ve heard rumors about past interns and—"

Her tongue felt dry; she wished she had taken her water bottle from her lunch bag. Her boss’s boss was...it couldn’t be that coincidental, right? If he knew there was a conflict of interest, she would either have lost her...outside position or this internship. Right? Niall was explaining the reputation of the rapid rotation of interns. She assumed one wrong look would leave Harry mad and Niall would have no choice but to let them go. “I have a good feeling about you though,” he smirked at her as he continued walking back toward his office...their office.

“Niall.”

“Speak of the devil,” Niall smirked as he muttered under his breath to her. Turning toward his name she spun on her heel at the same time to see Harry approaching. He was tall and beautiful. But she already knew that from his profile picture. He wore a collared button down and the collar was pressed firmly and stiffly against the dark green sweater he wore over it. With sleeves rolled up to his elbows, he displayed a multitude of tattoos and veiny forearms that she had to look away from quickly before she drooled. Adorned in a pair of slacks and dress shoes she thought that he knew exactly what he was doing: torturing any poor girl that looked at him as beautiful. She tried looking at his perfectly styled brown curls and his green eyes attached to eyelashes that seemed downright sinful with every blink. His face seemed a bit scruffy, like he forgot to shave this morning.

His gaze didn’t falter even a nanometer. It was perfectly normal to see the girl he had just paid a substantial sum of money to live in a beautiful, highly expensive apartment. She was going to see him tonight for a first date. And yet, here he was, at his company without so much as a flinch of surprise by the fact that she was interning here. “Harry, this is our new intern,” Niall explained introducing her to his best friend.

Harry held his hand out. “Pleasure t’meet you, beautiful. M’name’s Harry, Harry Styles. Make sure t’tell me if Niall is treating y’poorly.”

Her brain wasn’t processing the words. Maybe Harry hadn’t put two and two together yet. It would make sense to separate his personal life with his business. Or maybe she just wasn’t recognizable; she spent a good chunk of time getting ready this morning in hopes of looking pretty but felt she fell short.

Mostly, she couldn’t imagine Niall treating her anything less than perfectly and that quite baffled her. “Oh, thank you,” she managed to say taking his hand and noticing his grip was firm and warm just like a good handshake was supposed to be. Would they do this all again later when they met for dinner? “I’m excited to be here,” she said—that was the truth. She scoured for internships long before she thought of being a companion for someone with Harry’s kind of money.

Harry smiled and turned his attention back to Niall. “Tricked another one, I see,” he mumbled. “I wanted t’know if y’have the report for our first meeting this morning.”

Niall nodded and jerked his head toward the office. “I was just about to show her m’office,” he said opening the door to his home away from home. He held the door for her to follow him and she held the door for Harry, but he shook his head as Niall was already looking at the piles of messy paperwork on his desk. Her first order of business would be to organize that chaos.

“After you, love,” he said holding the door open for her to enter. She mumbled a quiet thank you and passed through the threshold. As she did, she heard him speak, just for her to hear, not Niall, “guess I should’ve asked where y’were interning, hmm?” He hummed quietly.

Her face warmed and she swallowed the lump in her throat as she did her best to maintain her composure. Fortunately, Niall was looking through his messy piles, so he didn’t notice her blushing face or her awkwardness.

“I can organize all this for you,” she decided to say to avoid the way her legs felt numb and shaky.

“I know where everything is,” Niall smirked at her with a grin that said the exact opposite of his words.

“I think you should let her,” Harry agreed. He rolled his eyes and produced a blue file folder with the document inside.

“Right where I left it,” he said passing it to Harry. She giggled quietly and Niall winked at her. As Harry and Niall discussed the file, she glanced around his spacious office with the pretty view. When they entered, she hadn’t noticed the tiny little room that seemed to attach inward through the door they entered. It seemed they went right through her little office. It wasn’t much, a space for a desk, a chair for a guest and a plant in the corner if she was lucky. There was a small window that looked like it belonged in a house, not an office that allowed her a view of the city that faced the nearby ocean.

It was perfect.

“Sorry we were interrupted,” Niall smirked at her. Harry was gone again, and she was slightly grateful, so she didn’t have to think about her strange predicament. “This is yours. I hope it’s not too cramped.”

“It’s perfect,” she promised. “Thank you.”

He logged into her computer. “You’ll have to reset your password, but this is my calendar,” he said clicking through several buttons. “I recommend having it open and whatnot, but it’s really up to you. I tend to need frequent reminders.”

“Like that you’re gonna be late to your 9:30?” She asked, pointing at the screen.

Niall checked his watch. “Yeah, exactly,” he chuckled. “I shouldn’t need anything during the meeting, but if I do, you just knock and enter to announce your presence, don’t be shy, people do it all the time. Just keep an eye on your phone for messages. Do you have any questions at the moment?”

“Do you drink tea or coffee?” She asked.

“Coffee, hot. Cream two sugars,” he said grabbing his laptop off his desk and throwing it haphazardly in his bag. She made a mental note of that.

“I’m going to organize this while you’re gone,” she said looking at the haphazard piles.

He ignored her comment with an eye roll and a shake of his head. “If Harry gets his way, meetings tend to run over the time they’re supposed to be—"

“I heard that,” Harry called fleetingly from outside the office. She giggled.

“—so please come get me if I’m being held against my will and late for another meeting,” he said ignoring his friend.

She nodded. “Will do.”

“Do you need anything at the moment? Otherwise, I’ll let you get settled.”

“No, I’ll be fine.”

He smiled. “Course you will. Welcome to Styles Incorporated.”

After organizing Niall’s messy desk, she sat at her own desk and worked her way through the different tabs and things. She was excited to work beside Niall and learn the ropes of his jobs.

She was thinking that if he had two jobs rolled into one, she would be able to take one of them at the end of her internship. But if Harry was her boss, she was thinking that wouldn’t happen. At least now she could learn both and apply to different companies, knowing the ins and outs of two jobs. Her phone vibrated and she hurried to open it, anticipating an SOS message from Niall. She received one halfway through his meeting to which she smirked and informed her he had no need to leave just yet, but asked if she would come get him solely because he was bored. (She did not, but she did ask if he was completely serious because she would have come up with some elaborate scheme if needed.)

Instead, this message was from Harry.

Enjoying your first day?

She felt extremely nervous to be interning at Harry’s company knowing that outside these walls her life was still entangled with his. It seemed like a bad idea. But she was regrettably a bit desperate for money and for the internship. So, if Harry didn’t find fault in the predicament, she wasn’t going to say anything.

Niall was in and out for most of the morning. She sent him messages frequently updating him of his changing schedule.When her office phone rang, she bit her lip thinking of what she should say for a moment before answering. “Styles Incorporated, Niall Horan’s office. How can I help you?”

“That’s adorable,” Harry’s voice said softly. She nearly dropped the phone. Part of her wanted to hang up.

“Oh,” she replied. “Er...Niall’s not back yet.”

“I called to talk to you,” his voice was so deep she could feel it in her toes. “Are you okay?” He asked.

“Huh? I’m fine. Do...do you need something?”

“Jus’ wanted t’make sure you’re having a good day, love,” he chuckled.

She blinked and nodded silently. “Haven’t done much. I was going to go get Niall coffee just to feel useful.”

She obviously couldn’t see him, but she could almost hear him smiling. “He’d like that.”

“Can I get you anything, Mr. Styles?” She asked.

“Hmm?”

She pulled a sticky note off the pad from the corner of her desk. “Coffee? Tea? Anything?”

Harry was quiet for a long moment. “Black tea would be nice, thank you, kitten.” She didn’t really need to write it down, but she did anyway. Black tea would be ingrained in her mind forever. She tried not to think about how he called her kitten either. “Jus’ Harry is fine, love,” he murmured, “...in and out of the office.” She was glad she was alone in her office so no one could see her blush.

At the end of the day Niall said he had a good feeling about her. “Mondays are typically craziest. The week will get easier as it goes along. Tomorrow I’ll have more time to show you what I do. Do you have any questions?”

“Er...no, thank you. It was a pretty easy day. I feel like I didn’t do much.”

“Oh, you did great love! The catastrophe of my desk alone warrants a full-time bonus. Even Harry complimented your phone response, and it was nice you asked him for his coffee order. I’ve had several interns put through the ringer by him, and I think you’re the first to make a positive first-day impression. I think most people are scared of him, which I think is hilarious of course. As I said, he’s a big softie. But none of them ever asked for his coffee order, and he noticed that.”

She smiled nervously knowing there was an ulterior motive to his kindness. “I’d get the whole office coffee if it was feasible,” she smirked. “If I’m here long enough, I’ll suggest they build a shop in one of these offices.”

Niall laughed. “I’ve got a really good feeling about you, darlin’. I hope you enjoyed your first day.”

“I’ll be here bright and early tomorrow,” she promised.

“Sounds good, love. Thank you.”

Her new apartment was hardly unpacked. She wouldn’t have time until the weekend to get it remotely live-in ready either. But here she was, standing among unpacked clothing boxes, clothes strewn about her bed (mattress still wrapped in plastic) as she picked out a dress to wear to her second first meeting with Harry.

It still felt surreal and honestly, she felt a bit stupid for even agreeing. But what was she supposed to do now that there were thousands of dollars in her account that weren’t there the day before? Louis video chatted with her. “How was your first day?” He asked. Eleanor was peering into the camera at the same time as well.

“Oh, I love that dress on you,” she smiled. “You look stunning,” she promised.

“Yeah, yeah,” Louis rolled his eyes. “Tell us about the internship.”

She sat on the mattress, the plastic crinkling loudly and sticking to her thighs. “I’m interning at his company.”

“Whose?” Eleanor asked her eyebrows pinching together.

“Harry’s,” she mumbled quietly.

“No way.”

She sighed, putting a hand over her face. “This is so dumb.”

Louis was laughing. “That’s hysterical. What are the chances? What did you say?!”

So, she explained the whole day. Overall, the experience was positive. But again, it was about to feel awkward again since she was supposed to meet Harry in half an hour. “Aren’t sugar daddies supposed to be old?” Eleanor asked.

“I think they just have money,” Louis shrugged.

“He is not old,” she confirmed. “He’s like...29 I think.”

“Well good, maybe you’ll fall in love with a normal, functioning member of society,” Louis rolled his eyes.

She sighed. “Do you think this looks alright?” She asked Eleanor, ignoring Louis’ comment. She wasn’t going to fall in love with someone that was paying her both for her internship and simply for existing.

“Beautiful, love,” Eleanor promised.

She sure hoped it was.

The restaurant wasn’t far from her apartment. Half a mile. She walked there in ten minutes. Harry was waiting outside as she approached. She was much more nervous now than she was this morning for her first day. The internship she was prepared for, she knew how to do the math and marketing aspects entailed in the description when she applied. She was totally out of her element walking up to the same person who was willing to pay her massive amounts of money just to have dinner with him.

“Did you walk?” He asked in greeting.

“Yes,” she said softly.

He frowned and turned to the car parked next to the sidewalk. He gently hit the top of the car frame twice to gather the attention of the driver. “She doesn’t walk anymore,” he told him. The man saluted from his seat and winked in her direction.

“I don’t mind walking,” she said hurriedly. She didn’t want to be driven everywhere. Certainly, everyone would know. “I walk all the time,” she explained.

“You don’t walk late at night, anymore,” she didn’t love the way he was demanding it, but again, didn’t want to argue with someone that was paying her substantial amounts of money. So, she quietly observed that it wasn’t that late and said as much in a whisper of the air.

“It’s hardly late.”

He turned his gaze to her and stared for a moment. Taking a deep breath in, he exhaled slowly. She noticed the way his jawline flexed, and his eyes were bright despite the evening darkening before her eyes. She noticed he shaved since she last saw him. He replaced the sweater with a suitcoat and to sum up he looked utterly handsome and equally terrifying in that moment. His eyes burned with something a bit angry, and it was odd that the man she worried about while she was at Styles Inc. was much more amenable than what she thought her date was about to be like. “I understand,” he said flatly. “M’jus’ worried about your safety,” he murmured, and she saw the anger dissipate by the second and again was surprised by how different she expected him to be versus the horror stories she heard through the grapevine of the interns that didn’t last.

Obviously, Harry was a businessman, and she was an investment. She could be agreeable, too, though. She nodded in response. “I will keep an eye on the time in the future, but I like walking.”

Harry pursed his lips and looked at his driver for a moment. The man shrugged and Harry sighed. “Noted. Not late,” he amended.

“Not late,” she conceded.

Harry tapped the top of the car once more and headed toward the door of the restaurant. He held the door open and tilted his head in silent command. “Ladies first,” he said much softer now that he was done arguing.

“Do y’want t’order, or would y’like me to?” He asked. The restaurant was obviously gorgeous. Dimly lit and quietly busy. The tables were spread out far enough that she couldn’t hear anyone’s conversation nearby. Gentle instrumental music played in the background. It smelled delicious and she was sure if she wasn’t with Harry, she wouldn’t dream of setting foot in this place as long as she lived.

Harry looked at ease perusing the small, printed menu in his hands. He probably already knew what he wanted—he probably already told the chef when he walked in by merely glancing at the hostess with some secret signal that only someone making seven figures a week could make. While he was at home in this fine establishment, she wished she wore a sweater over her dress. There was a nearby vent causing a draft to chill her skin. Doing her best to ignore it, she desperately thought about asking for some soup. She glanced up from the menu situated on top of her place setting. Nearly terrified by the millisecond: it was too expensive and too fancy. Keeping her cool she nodded, grateful for Harry for intervening on her unfortunate behalf. There was no way he would like her after this catastrophe. “Please.”

He smirked. “What do y’like t’eat?”

“Um, anything really,” she bit her lip. “I had pasta for lunch.”

“So no pasta,” he said easily scanning over the menu.

She laughed lightly. “Actually, I don’t think there’s a limit to pasta for me,” she admitted.

His smile grew, she could see it dancing in his eyes, but he didn’t lift his eyes from the menu. “I see.”

“Mr. Styles. Always a pleasure,” the waiter greeted. “Merlot or Pinot tonight?” He asked.

“Merlot, please,” he said glancing briefly at the waiter before returning to the menu. “Thank you.”

“Would you like to see a wine list, miss?” The waiter asked, looking at the sweet girl across from Harry.

“I’m okay with water,” she said simply.

Harry’s eyebrows pinched together, and he finally lifted his head from the menu for longer than a second. “Are you sure?”

She nodded. Maybe it was the wrong thing to say. She really didn’t understand the etiquette of what she was supposed to do or say here. “I...I have to get to work...early tomorrow,” she said awkwardly. Of course, Harry knew that. A little glass of wine wouldn’t hurt anyone. He wouldn’t bat an eyelash at anyone working for him for merely having a glass at dinner. Especially at a place like this.

He nodded slowly, taking her answer in as the waiter watched to see if she’d change her mind. Clearly, he was used to Harry, but this was obviously a first and he waited almost expectantly for her to change her answer. “Can I convince you t’have a glass of pinot?”

“Um...”

“It’s very light, miss,” the poor waiter promised. Maybe he was more aware that she gave the wrong answer than she was. Harry was ogling her curiously. Like she was a true mystery.

“No thank you, I really like water,” she assured him. She wasn’t lying. She did like water. “Do you have lemon water, by chance?”

He glanced at Harry again. “Yes, of course, miss. I’ll bring it right out,” he nodded.

Harry was still staring at her curiously. She was nervous to look up, but she did. His eyes were gentle again. His lips quirked in a smirk that was making her insides melt and warm her up—thank God because she swore the vent was aimed purposefully at her. “I don’t breathalyze anyone on the way in, love. Y’could get a glass of wine if you’d like,” he told her.

She nodded. “I know...I...I just don’t really like t’drink during the week all that much. Especially with work and stuff. Wine...usually gives me a headache too. Thank you, though. I’m sorry if that was awkward or wrong.”

He nearly snorted. Quietly of course. This place was near silent. She wondered what they put in the air to make it so quiet. “Wrong?” He repeated.

“I don’t know. I’m...I’m really nervous,” she admitted. “I’m sorry.”

“Kitten, what are y’apologizing for?” He asked shaking his head. “You’ve got no reason t’be nervous. I invited you, remember? I want you here,” he reminded her.

Swallowing, she nodded. “Okay.”

“Really, love. It’s supposed t’be easy and light. Don’t be nervous,” he repeated.

She took a deep breath and looked at him head on. He looked...soft. Like this wasn’t some weird first date that would help figure out the rules of their...companionship. Objectively, he looked like he was her boyfriend...and why wouldn’t he look like her boyfriend? As Eleanor pointed out, he was young. So was she, even younger than Harry. It was obvious Harry was brilliant, but Louis would tell her to stop selling herself short because she was exceedingly intelligent (and on the days when she was willing to compliment herself, she kind of believed that too). The only reason it was unfathomable was the fact that he was twenty times handsomer than she was beautiful and he looked about twenty times as rich.

But still, he seemed to look at her as if she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. It made her warm. Which, of course, reminded her of how cold she was. “Do they have a soup you could recommend?”

A pause before a slight chuckle. “You are...full of surprises, love.” Of course. No one orders soup at a place like this. Ladies were supposed to order salad. “It’s...warm outside,” it almost sounded like a question. She thought he might even ask if she was feeling okay.

“Um...” she swallowed and gestured in front of herself to point discreetly toward the vent. “The vent is blowing directly at me, it’s...kinda cold.”

Harry’s eyes immediately followed the path of her finger as she pointed and muttered a quiet, “Oh, for God’s sake,” under his breath while she finished speaking. As he stood up from the table, she thought she really messed up now. Harry quickly found the hostess and muttered something before he hurried back to her side of the table. “They’re going to move us,” he told her.

“Oh, God. Harry, that’s not necessary. I just—”

“Love, it’s fine,” he promised, putting a hand on her upper back as he stood by her chair. “M’not gonna have y’freeze before the appetizers.”

“But—”

“Love, it’s fine,” he repeated.

Biting her lip. “I didn’t mean to make a fuss,” she murmured standing up as Harry guided her to a nearby table.

“Not at all, love,” he promised. “I jus’ don’t want you t’be cold. I wish y’said something sooner,” he gestured to the table nearby away from the vents Harry draped his suitcoat over her shoulders before pulling her seat out.

“I’m really okay, Harry. I don’t—”

Gently grabbing her chin between his thumb and finger, he turned her eyes to his. Her breath hitched in her throat. Without his suitcoat he was left in his button down, tie, and vest ensemble and she thought she might lose her mind. It was worse than the rolled-up sweater sleeves. “Kitten, jus’ relax,” he hummed gently. “S’okay. I’ll get y’some soup and a lovely pasta dish,” he promised. He brushed his thumb over her cheek. “Okay, love?”

She nodded mutely and Harry smiled kindly at her. Coaxing her into her new seat and she waited for Harry to sit. “Sorry about the draft, miss,” the waiter returned settling her lemon water in front of her. “Here is your water. Can I get y’some hot tea?”

“She was wondering about the soup,” Harry interrupted. “Don’t usually get it myself here,” he told the waiter.

He nodded. “Of course,” Harry winked at her as he listed the different varieties they had for the evening, and she quietly chose the mixed vegetable. “Do you want to start with the prosciutto wrapped mango, Mr. Styles?” He asked.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” she interrupted her face warming as she did. “I’m very allergic to mangoes. I know that’s odd.”

“Oh, well then never mind,” the waiter smiled easily. “I will bring the soup in the meantime.”

She bit her lip. “I’m sorry about—”

“You’re really going t’apologize for having an allergy?” He wondered.

Swallowing, she nodded. “Umm...”

He chuckled quietly shaking his head. “I think m’really going t’like having you around, love.”

After she apologized at least seventeen more times and thanked Harry profusely, they were finally in the car driving her back to her apartment. She was warm, full, and very happy with how the remainder of dinner went. Harry didn’t look at his phone once while they talked but was now scrolling through his missed messages while the driver was paused at a red light.

She kept her hands in her lap, folded neatly. “Did you miss a lot of calls during dinner?” She asked softly.

He shook his head. “Nothing important,” he smiled gently as he scanned. “Sorry, s’rude of me t’look when you’re beside me,” he slipped his phone back in his pocket.

“No, no. M’sure you have a lot more important messages than just asking me about my favorite color and stuff.”

That smirk of his graced his face again, melting her insides. He shook his head briefly and then tilted his head at her curiously. “What is your favorite color?”

“Blue.”

“Hmm...y’struck me as a red kind of girl.”

“I did like pink when I was younger but these boys in school made fun of girls that liked pink because it was so girly, so I decided to like blue instead. And I really do like blue. It’s much better for walls and decorations than pink,” he smiled brightly during her explanation, chuckling at her little feminist outcry.

They were parked outside her apartment. “Do you want me t’walk you in?” He asked as she unclipped her seatbelt.

“Oh...um...” the blood flooded her face thinking about Harry seeing the mess of the beautiful apartment Harry bought her and how she would die if he saw it. “I...I’m okay.”

“Hey love,” he said gently, stilling her hand by the wrist as she tried to gather her purse from the floor. “I had a lovely time tonight,” he promised. “I want t’do it again. If you’d like.”

Again, her breath caught in her throat. “Really?”

Chuckling, Harry nodded. “Yes. You’re very funny and sweet.”

“Can I ask you something, Harry?”

“Of course.”

“Am...do I need to worry about this internship? Because I really need it to get my degree and I don’t want to—”

Smiling, he shook his head. “You have nothing t’worry about, on that front, love. I don’t trust nearly anyone but Niall. He read your application and chose you because y’have the best qualifications and had glowing recommendations. I read them today after I realized I’d be seeing y’much more frequently,” he told her. “I think you’ll do really well,” he promised.

“Oh...good...it’s just...” she took a deep breath. “This is really hard for me to say, but I know interns don’t...typically last very long at Styles Inc. But I really want to...but I also have a very different...predicament,” she landed on after a moment.

He nodded. “You do. But you’re also the only one who shook m’hand, took m’coffee order, and seemed t’know what Niall needed before he did. All on the first day.”

“Tea,” she mumbled. Harry tilted his head in silent question toward her. “Black tea. Not coffee,” like she was reminding him of what he drank.

Harry nodded. “Exactly.”

“Okay,” she said.

“Are you sure y’don’t want me t’walk you up? See y’in safely?” He asked. She hesitated. She wondered if this was part of the...deal. But she really didn’t want him to see how bad it looked right now. Again, especially because he was paying for it.

“Can I be honest with you?” She said quickly.

Harry raised his eyebrows in surprise and nodded. “Of course, love.”

“I haven’t had time to unpack and it’s horrible in there right now and I don’t want to embarrass myself or you because I haven’t...unpacked. Especially when you’re paying for—”

He started to laugh a bit and it made the most beautiful face she had seen to date. His cheeks had a matching pair of indents with two beautiful dimples on either of his cheeks. Her body warmed at the beautiful sound of his laughter filling the car. “Kitten,” he shook his head. “I don’t care about any of that,” he rolled his eyes unclipping his belt and getting out of the car. She grabbed her purse and then tried to get out of the car except the handle was locked. She frowned. Harry opened it in the next instant before she had time to worry that she was trapped inside the back seat.

Smiling beautifully still, he shook his head at her. “Do men hold doors open for you, love?” He asked.

She blinked. “I’m sorry?”

“I will take that as a no, then,” he chuckled. “I would like t’hold doors open for y’whenever I can,” he explained.

“Oh,” she said in surprise. “Well, thank you.”

“M’pleasure.”

She got out carefully, worried she would trip and fall. Harry held his arm out for support, and they strolled up to her new apartment. She held her phone to the key reader and heard the lock click. On instinct, she reached for the door handle, touching Harry’s hand as of course he was ready to open it for her. “Thank you,” she said quietly hurrying through the door.

Harry followed behind her as they walked up one flight of stairs to the next floor. Turning to the left and then found themselves in front of the third door.

“It’s really a disaster,” she told him.

“Y’jus’ moved your stuff over a few days ago, love,” he reminded her. “S’okay.”

“I’m not a messy person. I don’t want you to get the wrong idea about my habits and stuff—”

“Kitten, please open the door,” he rolled his eyes with a chuckle.

Shutting herself up, she took a deep breath and pushed the door open, flicked the light on, and gestured for Harry to enter.

“It’s not furnished?” He asked looking at the empty living room area. Just a TV, a few boxes, and a painting strewn on the floor. He moved toward the window, enjoying the view of the city night.

“Uh...no,” she kicked her shoes off and set her purse on the adjoining kitchen counter. “I...lived with my ex before. We rented from his aunt...she had all the furniture.”

“Oh. M’sorry. I didn’t realize, I would have made sure to furnish it for you—”

“Oh no, it’s okay. I just...ordered some yesterday. It’s supposed to be in by the end of next week.”

He turned from the window and stared at her. “You ordered some?” He asked.

Her blood felt cold and she was grateful she still had Harry’s suitcoat still wrapped around her because she was worried her teeth would start chattering. “Uh...yes. I figured you...you gave me a lot of money and of course I had some savings and stuff. And I needed a lot of furniture. I got a lot of tables, bookshelves, and my dressers from IKEA. That should actually be here sooner...and then I needed a couch and a TV stand, and I thought it might be worth having a desk. And I’ve always wanted a nice bed...one that had like a canopy option?” She started but then she realized she was over explaining. “I’m sorry...that was way more information than you needed. So—”

He raised his eyebrows at her in surprise. “You bought it yourself?”

“Uh...yes?”

“And you’re going t’put it all together...from IKEA...by yourself?”

“Well...my friends Eleanor and Louis will probably come over and help. Louis isn’t all that helpful—he’s usually too busy making jokes...but Eleanor and I can hold our own.”

He shook his head. “I’ve never met anyone like you, kitten,” she blushed and looked at her feet nervously. “I’ll...put more money in your account tonight, beautiful. Order as much furniture you want...but please don’t order stuff from IKEA.”

Biting her lip she nodded. “I don’t need you to put more—”

“Love,” he said gently and came across the room once more. Gently, he cupped his hands around her face. “S’what m’here for,” he reminded her. Carefully, he glanced at her eyes and then quickly pressed a kiss to her forehead. She thought she really might melt. She no longer needed his jacket. It was much too hot in the room, all from a little kiss on the forehead. “See you tomorrow?” He asked pulling away and heading toward the door.

“Um...Harry?” She asked.

“Yeah, kitten?”

“Can you just...text me when you’re home. So I know?”

She saw the way Harry’s eyes danced at her question. “Of course, love.”

taglist: @tpwkstiles

#harry #harry styles writing #harry styles fluff #harry styles blurb #harry styles blurbs #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #ceo!harry #sugardaddy!harry #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #one direction #one direction writing #traditional

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huffelpuff210 · 4 months

Text

King Loki Laufeyson x Shy Reader

Loki Laufeyson x Reader

Summery: Loki is king of earth now defeating the avengers who are broken or dead, He rules the Earth with an Iron fist, the people bring him sacrifices or trade humans for merchandise their people are in despite need of, But when he meets you everything changes,

Warning: slavery, abuse, blood, threats, dark themes, swearing, depression, insecurities, self hatred, suicidal thoughts,

A metal collar is around your neck, the prongs inside your skin were excruciating, but pain is something you lost a long time ago, the small pain is there but not as bad as it once was, shackles around your wrists,your arms in front of you, a chain connected to the collar as you are led by your father,

The guards escort your father as you obediently follow, Your clothes torn, a white sheet over your head the length stops at the back of your knees,

You hopped and prayed that King Loki would just kill you, that your death would be quick and painless, as you stepped in the throne room,

Your father ordered you not to speak before you both arrived here, you just simply nodded, you gave up on speaking a long time ago, it only made the torture and punishments that much worse,

You kept your eyes to the ground, not looking up once, it was something you have always done, as far as you can remember, You father and brothers despised your eyes, called you a monster, you have two different colored eyes, Once is a icy blue, while the other is a bright green, so you never look up or make eye contact with anyone,

They also blamed you for killing your mother, she died giving birth to you, They always told you, You are nothing, just a useless slave who deserves to suffer,

“Your highness.” Your father speaks,

“Rise.” You hear Loki’s voice,

“I have brought you a trade, my daughter for some food and supplies.” Your father says

It was the first time he’s ever called you his daughter,

“She is very obedient and will do anything you ask.” Your father says yanking the chain hard making you step forward, you take a few lazy steps, you were barefoot and in a torn green dress, it looked like something someone dug out of the trash, you could see the open wounds in some places, but you didn’t care, you just hopped you would just die, so the pain and suffering would come to a end,

You hear footsteps,

they stop a mere feet from you

“What is your name mortal?” He asked but you did not dare to speak,

“She does not speak your highness-” Your father began

“Was I talking to you?” Loki’s voice had a hint of menace behind it,

To say he was intrigued was a bit of an understatement, Most sacrifices or trade offs cowered or wept when in his presence or begged for mercy,

But not this one, You remained silent, still and Loki could clearly tell why, you were not treated kindly, wounds that were still bleeding, you looked half starved and on the verge of collapsing, Loki hooked his fingers under your chin to get a good look at you, making you look up into his eyes and what he saw stunned him, two different colored eyes,

It was said in Asgard two different colored eyes, is said to bring fortune, and luck and sign of love and tranquility,

But he saw something else in your eyes, he knew that stare, the distant stare of someone in anguish and pain, it was as if you had given up completely on life, just waiting for death to come, He smirks down at you letting go of your chin yanking the chain out of your father’s hands,

“I will take this, but you get nothing in return.” Loki says

“What!?” Your father raised his voice,

“Do you really think I’m going to offer you something for bringing me a trade in this condition, don’t insult me.” Loki says with venom in his voice,

“Then there is no trade!” Your father yelled,

“Watch your tone.” Loki says with menace

Your father clams up,

“And you speak as if you have much of a choice, I am King. I take what I want,” He says

“B-But.” Your father tries to argue,

“Guards imprison this bafoon, he has insulted the crown.” Loki says

“Yes, your majesty.” The guards say

you hear your father being dragged away as he yells and tries to fight,

“Come my pet, we have much to discuss.” Loki says leading you away gently

You're bare feet patted on the tiled floor as you silently followed behind Loki, You're eyes trained on the floor, the only noises that could be heard was Loki’s footsteps and the clinking of the chains,

You had no idea what was in store for you but you hopped your death would be quick and painless.

Loki opens a door and you follow him inside, the door shuts

suddenly the sheet was ripped off of you revealing your hair, your eyes and sadly some injuries,

“Now let me have a good look at you my pet.” Loki says hooking his fingers under your chin making you look at him as he tilts your head from side to side examining you, looking at the injuries to your face,

The fresh bruises and scrapes,

You try not to make eye contact with him,

“Hmm, your are sunning for a mortal, we will have to clean you up,” He says

Still you don’t speak or nod, you just stare past him,

“But first these need to go.” He says waving his hand, and suddenly the collar and shackles were gone, revealing the punctures in your neck from the collar,

Loki was appalled at the amount of injures you had, surely you had suffered, but the collar was the icing on the cake for the god, he wanted to torture the man who caused you such pain you were treated worse than an animal.

With a wave of his hand most of your injures were healed,

“There that should feel much better.” He says smirking

You just nod, suddenly his fingers are under your chin again,

“I want you to look at me when I speak pet is that understood?” He asked

You nodded and he smirked pleased with your answer even if it wasn’t a verbal one.

#king loki laufeyson #loki laufeyson #loki imagine #loki fanfic #loki fanfction #loki fandom #protective loki #abused reader #shy reader #depressed reader #suicidal reader #avengers #avengers fic #obsessive love #controlling behavior #dominate loki

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deathmetalunicorn1 · 1 year

Note

Hello Im happy your request box is open again. Can I request yandere ror x kagaya ubuyashiki!reader?

Ubuyashiki family is known for their soothing personality and presence, causing everyone who listen to them feel at ease and they show respect at the family especially to the leader. The yandere characters are not an exception and they fall hard to the reader. They want to protect her also because she has sickness/curse. Its your choice what will happen in the story.

Gods are odin, thor, loki, poseidon,hades, hermes, heracles

Humans are lubu, qin shi huang, jack the ripper and nikola tesla you can add adam but yandere platonic

-When the gods and warriors of humanity had been invited to meet with the leader of the Demon Slayer Corps, after demons led by Muzan invaded Valhalla, they didn’t know what type of person to expect.

-Many thought being the leader of the Demon Slayer Corps, after meeting many of the corps members and the strongest of the bunch, by the title of Hashira, that you were going to be a fearsome warrior, one that drove fear into the hearts of many.

-They were not expecting you, a petite little female, wearing a beautiful dark green yukata with a haori covered in fall maple leaves all over it, being guided in by your much younger siblings.

-The curse that had taken you when you were alive on earth was still apparent on your otherwise beautiful skin, covering your eyes, leaving you completely blind. While you were no longer in pain due to this curse, as you died in your prime, shortly after your eyes were taken, you still carried the curse and were weak as a result.

-Due to your curse, you never had children, it wasn’t safe to do so, but your younger siblings who you died protecting before they followed, were still young enough to be safe from the curse, and they would never be infected as they couldn’t age.

-All members of your corps, including the Hashira, all kneeled, bowing their heads to you, greeting you as the leader and your guests were all quite surprised to see that you were the leader.

-Despite not being a warrior yourself, the warriors under your care and guidance, and Kojiro, a longtime friend of yours, all treated you with so much respect that it was a little unnerving.

-Your voice was gentle, like a ringing bell, it was smooth and calming, “Thank you all for coming, Rengoku, you were the one who came on behalf of these warriors, you may lead this discussion.”

-Rengoku bowed his head to you as your little sisters helped you kneel down onto your floor pillow before they sat on their own pillows behind you.

-You mostly listened, hearing your corps members talking about where the demons had been spotted while the gods and warriors provided layout information of the different pantheons and more information about where the demons are attacking.

-When things started to get heated you lifted a hand and instantly your demon slayers went silence, bowing in apology as you spoke, your voice soothing, “Anger will solve nothing my dear ones, it will only lead to more problems. We’ve been discussing things for a few hours now. Everyone is dismissed for a break.”

-Your corps members thanked you, not willing to argue but Zeus approached you, sitting nearby, “Wouldn’t it be wiser to continue and wrap things up?” you looked in his direction, your smile soft, “I know you and many others, myself included, would like to have a solution to everything at the moment. But taking a break and getting some to eat would refresh our bodies and minds and make it easier to think more clearly.”

-He chuckled softly, stroking his beard, “You are young, but you are very wise. Very well, we shall take a break.”

-The room quickly became quieter as everyone left to go get something to eat or rest and you dismissed your sisters to do the same, Tanjiro beaming at you saying that he would take them with him, Zenitsu, Inosuke, and Nezuko, which you smiled softly at, thanking him.

-Once everyone seemed to be gone, you turned your head to the side, “Are you not going with them?”

-He flinched, surprised that you had sensed him so easily as he stood and approached, taking a seat in front of you.

-He was silent for only a moment, “How did you sense me so easily?” you smiled gently, it looked so beautiful, “Losing one of my senses years ago helped me train my others to be more sensitive.” He nodded softly, not bothered before he asked you more questions, asking about the corps and how it was that you were the leader when you were so young. He felt a sort of pull to you, wanting to protect you, keep you safe, you seemed so helpless, but he knew you were anything but. His desire only seemed to grow when he asked why you weren’t married and you gave a soft, humorless giggle, “Not many want to marry a woman who is doomed to die from her curse. I can’t even have children safely without risking myself or the child. I was unmarried on earth, and here I remain the same.” His eyes instantly hardened, feeling anger for you before taking the plunge, “Would you marry me?” you were honestly stunned, lifting a hand to your face, “Oh my- you’re quite bold aren’t you. Please don’t tease me like th-” his hands cupped your own between his, “I’m not joking, I would love you, Y/N. I don’t care if you can’t have children, I only want to love you and be at your side.” your cheeks warmed, turning red as you pulled back, your free hand lifting to hide your mouth, “Hearing you actually say it is so different than seeing it in a precognition vision.” He chuckled softly, relaxing, remembering Brunnhilde mentioning that you were able to see glimpses of the future. His hand was gentle, holding your own, stroking the back of your hand gently as you gave him a small nod, which made him inhale deeply, feeling overwhelmed with happiness, but did nothing other than lifting your hand to his lips, pecking the back of it as he made a promise to make you happy. You knew he was telling the truth, he was going to make you so happy, if he survived your Hashira who were rather protective over you.

-Odin, Poseidon, Hermes, Thor, Lu Bu, Hades, and Jack

-He chuckled softly as he stood, coming over, “You’re quite sharp, aren’t you?” you smiled gently as he took a seat beside you, to look out at the garden, “I could hear your breathing. Having lost my sight helped me strengthen my ears.” He chuckled warmly but nodded softly, not that you could see it, “You’re pretty amazing, Y/N, I hope you know that.” His words took you a bit by surprise, “Oh- you’re very sweet. Thank you.” He chuckled again before speaking, his tone a bit more serious, “But I’m serious, you’re fighting a curse but still leading all of your warriors, and you’re even leading us. You’re so calm!” You felt the breeze drift in from the garden, bring the scent of flowers with it, “A gentle breeze brings no damage, it only soothes, while a gale will only bring destruction and anger. Anger will solve nothing, it will only bring more problems, that’s why I try to keep others calm.” He chuckled softly, putting a hand on your own, surprising you, “Yeah, I get that, and you do it so well. Just sitting here with you, I feel so at ease, it’s almost like we’re married!” you smiled softly, reaching a hand over to his cheek, cupping it after you touched it, “You wouldn’t want to marry someone like me, I can’t even see you, and I can’t have children. You should be with someone who makes you happy.” His hand gripped your own, holding it gently, “That’s for me to decide, Y/N, and you make me happy, I don’t care about having children if I can just be with you.” You were stunned by his words but smiled softly, your eyes closing, “You’re very sweet.” He chuckled warmly, keeping ahold of your hand, but you did nothing to pull it away, it felt so warm, and you felt happy. You could feel what he was feeling, you felt so at ease.

-Loki, Hercules, Nikola, and Qin Shi Huang

#record of ragnarok #ror x reader #ror odin #ror poseidon #ror hermes #ror thor #ror lu bu #ror hades #ror jack the ripper #ror loki #ror heracles #ror nikola tesla #ror qin shi huang

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marvelgurl789fanfics · 21 days

Text

Remy Lebeau (Gambit) x Child OC

(Remy Lebeau (Gambit) x Rogue)

~Safe~

Warning: angst, mentions of child abuse, injuries

(Not the best at grammar or punctuation)

Summary: The X-Men get information on a new mutant holding facility being built. Remy finds the building has a prisoner already a very small one at that.

Masterlist:

~~~~~

The X-Men were on the Blackbird on the way to some mutant sentinel holding facility being build in some desert, Gambit stopped paying attention to Scott’s speech on this place after getting the gist of it. Go in destroy the place, don’t get killed easy. Gambit had found a much more interesting way to spend the flight than listening to Scott go on, Rogue’s legs looked mighty fine crossed like that as she listened to the mission brief, ‘What Remy would give to touch those fine legs, what a way to go out’ Remy thought to himself with the knowledge of her skin being a death sentence within seconds.

Feeling eyes on him Gambit lifted his gazes from Rogue’s legs to her eyes glaring at him. “Will you pay attention” she scolded him, “Sorry, Cher. Gambit got lost in thought” he smiled at her. Rogue rolled her eyes with a small smile forming on her lips “I know what kind of thoughts you’re having right now Cajun” she scolded in a teasing manner, earning a grin from Remy. “If you two are done we’re about to land” Wolverine groan, amusement in his eyes despite his tone of voice.

They landed a bit of a walk from the location with there being no cover in the sand left little choice. “Once inside me and Jean will head to the security room. Storm keep your eyes on the sky and watch for possible reinforcements. Wolverine, Morph take to the east wing and search for any prisoners in the holding cells. Gambit, Rogue go west and search the labs and destroy any files they have of mutants.” Scott said as they approached the base. The X-Men rushed the base and knocking out what few guards there and split into their groups.

Breaking into the base’s lab Rouge and Gambit took out the guards, most of the scientists chose to flee than fight back. The lab was soon empty besides the knocked out guards on the floor. Rogue went to the computer and began destroying files, while Gambit started with the paper files charging them and destroying the paper with small explosions. “Cells are all clear” Wolverine came from their communications link, “Well except the guards, who are not liking their new home” Morph snickered. “Good, Storm how are things looking?” Jean asked. “The sky remains clear” Storm informed. “We’re done here too, Gambit, Rogue how are things going there?” Scott asked. “All good sugar, we just finished with the files” Rogue answered walking over to Gambit who just finished with the paper files. “Then let’s get out of here, regroup at the Blackbird” Scott ordered.

“Shall we Swamp Rat?” Rogue teased heading for the exit, Gambit was going to say something sassy back but heard a whimpering and stopped in his tracks. “What is it?” Rogue stopped as well noticing Gambit’s smile drop from his pretty face. “Don’t know Cher, but Gambit heard a noise” Gambit said moving to where he heard the sound. After a few steps around the lab equipment there was what looked like a dog create with a little girl who looked no older than three shaking in fear curled up cowering in the back of the cage. Gambit felt like the world froze thinking of what kind of monster would do this to a child, a sharp gasp from Rogue shook him from his shock.

Gambit dropped to his knee’s immediately breaking the weak lock opening the cage door. The small girls eye widened with fear once the door opened. “It’s ok mon Cheri, Gambit won’t hurt you none” Gambit said as gently as he could taking in the girl appearance for the first time. The small child had light green scale starting at her cheeks down to the sides of her neck mixing with her pale skin, her scales seemed to go down the tops on her arms and hands. Messy dark blonde hair with scales at her hairline, pure golden eye with slit irises reminding him of a cat’s eyes. The girl was wearing torn and dirtied clothes. She looked at him with a mix of fear and curiosity, slowly starting to uncurl herself. The child kept her eye focused on Gambit’s every move ready to retreat if he made any sudden movements. “Gambit just want to help you” he said very slowly reaching his hand out for the girl to take it.

After a moments of hesitation from the child, she took his hand and he gently led her from the cage. Once the girl was out of the cage and in the light of the room Rogue and Gambit noticed the bruises coving the girls body and her favoring her left leg. “Oh sugar!” Rogue said with heartbreak clear in her voice but choosing to keep still not wanting to frighten the already terrified child. “Gambit get you outta here” Gambit said slowing getting to his feet and picking up the child holding her to his chest. The girl flinched at first of being lifted off the ground but quickly relaxed tucked to his chest. “Let’s get to the ship, she as cold as ice” gambit said heading for the exit wrapping the side of his coat around the girls small body, Rogue quickly followed after him.

Once they reached the Blackbird it seemed the rest of the team was waiting for them. “What took you slow pokes so, oh who this” Morph teased then noticing the child in Gambit’s arms, getting the whole team looking at the small child. “Gambit found her locked in a cage right before we left” Rogue explained. Jean walked over to Gambit and the child gently putting her hand on the girls back, making the child flinch and bury her face into Gambit’s chest shaking trying to cling to him for dear life. “It’s ok mon Cheri, no one gonna hurt ya now” Gambit soothed.

The whole flight back the girl refused to let go of Gambit. Quiet discussions between the team about the mission and the child went unnoticed by Gambit, trying to soothe the scared child who found comfort in him for reasons he would never understand. Five minutes from the school the girl was fast asleep still cuddled up to him, “The child seems to like you” Storm commented. Gambit looked up from the sleeping girl on his lap “Who doesn’t like Gambit” he joked trying to deny the comment. ‘Of course she likes me for now Remy found her’ he thought to himself. “I usually don’t like sharing but I can’t make an acceptation for this little girl” Rogue teased coming behind Gambit’s chair racking her gloved hand through his hair. “Don’t know Cher, she might not want to share Gambit with you” Gambit teased back enjoying his hair being played with.

The Blackbird landed in the hanger, the team filling out “Take our little guest to get check out by Beast, we’ll talk to the professor” Scott said to Gambit. The girl still had a death grip on Remy’s jacket even in deep sleep and nobody had the heart to separate the girl from her object of comfort even in this case the object being Remy himself. “If she’ll let go of Gambit long enough to let Beast” Gambit joked walking to the med bay with the sleeping child in his arms. A few steps from the med bay the girl jolted awake panic clear on face. “Mon Cheri, Gambit right here, you’re safe” stopping in his tracks for a moment to clam the child, the girl relaxed into his chest once again while he walked to the med bay.

“Gambit nice to see you in one piece, who this little one.” Beast greeted as the med bay door shut behind them. “Gambit found her while on our mission, she’s pretty beat up” Gambit said unconsciously rubbing the girls back in comforting circles, “I see, let me take a look” Beast nodded in understanding and gestured to the medical cot. Gambit gently sat the girl on the cot but her death grip on his coat remained “it’s ok Gambit promise not to go no where” Gambit gently convinced the child to let go and as promised stood to the side but still in view of her. “Hello I’m Dr.McCoy, what might your name be?” Beast greeted the child kindly being careful not to spook the child who kept looking at Gambit for reassurance.

“F-63” came a small shy voice after a moment of silence. “Is that what those people called you before Gambit found you” Gambit spoke up earning a slow nod from the girl. “I see, do you know how old you are?” Beast asked her, the girl just held up three fingers. “Ok, little one I’m just gonna take a look at your injuries. Is that ok?” Beast asking the girl, and after the girl received a nod of approval from Gambit she gave Beast a nod of her own. Beast looked over the girl carefully explaining to the child exactly what he was doing to not startle her. “Noticed her favoring her left leg” Gambit said getting Beast attention. Beast took a look at the girls right leg then gave the girl a smile “That wasn’t so bad” Beast said earning a nod again from the girl then coaxing the girl to lay back on the cot and relax.

“How she looking?” Gambit asked quietly for the girl not the hear, “where to start, on closer inspection the bruises appear to be from needles being them injections or IVs it’s hard to tell. Her leg is not broken but is severely sprained, and then the girl seems to be very undernourished and dehydrated.” Beast informed keeping his voice down as well. Hearing this felt like a kick to Gambit’s gut, “usually I would set up an IV to help with the dehydration, but giving the situation I think it would do more harm than good” Beast continued. A knock on the med bay door got their attention, the door slipping open as the professor and Rogue entering the latter holding a tray. “Hello Gambit, Beast can I talk to you for a moment of the girls well being” Xavier said going back in the hall with Beast now following in toe.

Gambit walk back the child how kept looking at him with pleading eyes “Everything gonna be just fine mon Cheri” her promised gently brushing some of her messy hair from her face. “Hello again sugar I thought you might be hungry” Rogue said setting the tray within the girls reach. The girl looked at the tray containing a pb&j sandwich cut into four small pieces of and a glass of milk, looking at Gambit and getting a nod from him, the girl started to slowly eat the sandwich. “If you’re still hungry after this there’s plenty more” Rogue smiled at the girl. “Did you learn her name?” Rogue asked turning her attention to Remy. “F-63, but that’s no name” Gambit said a bit bitterly but kept his voice down for just for Rogue to hear. Rogue hummed in thought turning to the girl “sugar do you like the name F-63.” She asked the girl who was now chugging the milk, the girl paused her drinking and shook her head no at Rogue’s question.

Remy let out a light chuckle at the child who now had milk dripping from her face, “did you get any in your mouth.” He grabbed a tissue from the side table and gently whipped the girl mouth earning a giggle from the girl. Rogue’s heart swelled that their interaction “What about Fiona?” Rogue asked the girl who stopped giggling. “Fiona does have a nice ring to it no?” Gambit said. The girl pointed to herself “Fiona?” She asked looking to the two adults watching her. “If you want that name” Rogue smiled to the child earning a nod and a slightly more confident Fiona from the girl. “A very beautiful name Mon Cheri” Gambit said to Fiona with a smile.

The Professor and Beast entered the med bay once again, Xavier now making his way to the child and Gambit and Rogue stepping aside. “Hello F-63, I’m Charles Xavier” he greeted the girl with a smile, “Fiona” Fiona responded immediately earning a raised eyebrow from Beast and Xavier. “Rogue and Gambit may have helped her with a new name” Gambit said rubbing the back of this neck. “Well Fiona is a much lovelier name” Xavier said with amusement turning to Fiona once again. “Do you know where your parents might be.” Xavier asked gently probing the girls mind. The girl gave a confused look tilting her head to the side pointing to Gambit “Papa?” Fiona said making Gambit slightly choke on air, and Rogue trying to keep from laughing. “The other did say she took quite the liking to you” Xavier chuckled as well.

“All of her memories are of the lab, my guess would be her parents gave her up when she was born cause of her appearance. For now she’ll be saying here at the school, and Gambit I hate to put you in this position but it seems she find comfort in you. Can I trust her to your care for now?” Xavier said to the group telepathically. “Gambit will play the caretaker for Mon Cheri” Gambit agreed aloud, with a nod and a smile to Fiona Xavier left. “For the time being I think it would be best for her to stay in the med bay, so I can keep an eye on her injuries. I’ll find more suitable clothes for her” Beast said leaving the med bay as well.

Fiona started to blink tiredly struggling to stay awake, Remy moved the now empty tray to the side and covered the girl up more with the blanket on the cot. As the girl’s eyes closed Gambit felt arms wrapping around him from behind “I think this will be a good thing, I think you make a good daddy” Rogue teased whispering in his ear, making a blush cover his face and spread to his ears.

~~~~~

I plan to make a part 2

Part 2

#marvel xmen #x men fanfiction #x men x reader #x men #x men 97 #x men oc #remy lebeau #remy lebeau x reader #gambit x reader #gambit #marvel #gambit x rogue #remy lebeau x oc #gambit x oc

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celtigxr · 3 days

Text

The Pink Dread (Master List) - - - - - ch. xi: Peace of Mind

Chapter Summary: As the Greens plot their ambitions, the very Prince they plan on putting the crown on can barely contain the tent in his breeches.

Word Count: 4033

Sneak Peak: But before he could dive his fingers in between her heaving breasts, a third voice broke through the static of his empty brain. “Shyla!” “I wasn’t touching her!” Aegon sprang away from the brunette, bum sliding to the far right of the balcony until his back hit the wall.

Warnings: Aegon chapter. Dunno if that's a good thing or not at this point.

T H E G R E E N S

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“The Starks have departed from White Harbour with the Manderlys,” Otto leans back in his chair, right leg extending under his desk as he regards his daughter sitting in the armchair across from him. “They should be arriving in a sennight. The Baratheons will arrive before them, of course. Borros is already not pleased that we cannot house him and his four daughters in the Keep.”

“Hm,” Alicent hummed, looking down at the steaming cup of tea cradled in her hands. “Between the Celtigars, my cousin’s family, and Rhaenyra’s lot, we will be at full capacity at the Holdfast. Is there no room elsewhere? Perhaps near the north towers?”

“Mayhaps, but we will need to work night and day to prepare whatever rooms we find to be acceptable for them.”

“It will be better than a series of tents, I’d wager,” Alicent tried to reason. “From what I’ve heard, his daughters are spoiled and wouldn’t want anything less than stone walls and carpeted floors.”

Otto hummed in agreement, “Luckily the Starks are of stronger mettle. It is only Cregan and his sister that accompanies them.”

“What of his younger brother… Rickard, was it?”

“Fated for the Wall, I’m afraid. He will remain in Winterfell.”

With a nod, Alicent allowed silence to fall between them.

Ever since her husband regained his health, Alicent was relieved of her duties from the Small Council; she was no longer needed to be Viserys’s regent, much to her chagrin. Alicent hated not being present during the meetings; it was her only semblance of power and influence as Queen, and now that was taken away from her. With having no way of knowing what was going on within the Realm, she couldn’t offer her sage advice or a woman’s perspective. The men of the Council lacked the gentler approach. Now she had no choice but to rely on second hand accounts from her father and Lord Larys Strong.

“And is there any news of Lord Corlys? The last I heard, his body was still lost in the Step Stones.” The Lord of Driftmark had been absent from his seat for nearly ten years following both deaths of his only children. He had spent that time keeping control over the won lands, ensuring the Triarchy did not gain occupation of it. However, in his efforts, he was ambushed and had his throat slashed, though his body had not been recovered, there was no way of knowing if he had survived or not. Until now, that was.

“One of his men found him,” Otto reached for the thin leaf of paper that the raven had delivered. “He is unconscious, but back at Driftmark. The maesters do not know if he will survive.”

The Queen hummed sadly, fingers tapping the mug in her hands before taking a tentative sip. There will be contention regarding the succession for Driftmark. By name, she knew Lucerys would be the one to inherit, but.. Well, the truth of it laid as obvious as his dark hair and eyes.

“Have we heard from Rhaenyra yet?” Alicent finally asked the only question she had been thinking about all day.

“As a matter of fact, yes,” Alicent tried to contain the eagerness behind her eyes. Otto continued, “Maester Gerardys wrote to us, explaining that their reluctance of leaving Dragonstone was due to the babe Visenya’s health. She’s a sickly child, from what I’ve learned, and it is believed she will not survive to see her first name day.”

Alicent visibly paled, her shoulders sunk as her back rested against the seat. An unsettling pit in her stomach formed that not even a generous gulp of tea could remedy.

“Poor Rhaenyra. To possibly lose a babe – her only daughter,” She shook her head, as if ridding herself of the idea of putting herself in those shoes. If she had lost Helaena, Alicent did not believe she’d survive her grief.

“It would be quite a tragedy…” Otto nods, leaning forward as a sigh filters through his nostrils. “But we cannot question the Stranger… He does not discriminate, and is never fair.”

Alicent shut her eyes, willing her ears to pretend she did not hear her father. Perhaps it is because she’s a woman, perhaps it is because she’s a mother, or perhaps it is because she still loved Rhaenyra, but either way she could not bear to hear such callous sentiments through empty philosophical religious sentiments. Especially from her father, who had a direct involvement in the reason why there was a crater between her and her childhood friend.

Clearing her throat, she changed the subject, “What about Daeron? When is he due to return?”

“Soon,” Otto replied simply, his eyes casted down at his papers. “Gwayne and my nephew’s family are on the road, and Daeron will follow him on dragonback shortly after. I sent a raven warning him to ensure he takes Tessarion straight to the Pit as soon as he arrives.”

Alicent’s brow knitted in confusion, “What’s the urgency?”

“The Cannibal has been spotted circling the Kingswood,” The Hand’s brow also furrowed, “Gods know why. That old beast hasn’t come this far inland since Aegon the first.”

Alicent ran her teeth over her bottom lip, “You think he will hunt for dragons in King’s Landing?”

“They don’t call him The Cannibal for nothing, Alicent. Perhaps there hasn’t been enough hatchlings at the Dragonmont to placate his diet.”

“And what about Vhagar? She is vulnerable.”

“If Cannibal wanted to attack her, he would have done so ages ago. She’s bigger than him, possibly older– who knows. That beast has been here longer than the Iron Throne. Besides,” Otto splays his hands on his desk before pushing himself out of his chair. “Aemond has her flying around King’s Landing, ensuring he does not approach. With any luck the beast will give up and go back to his cave in Dragonmont.”

“Unless he decides to attack farmers and travellers,” Alicent watches her father move to a table where a jug of wine sat.

“He doesn’t attack humans – unless provoked. And no one is foolish enough to try to claim him. He’s wild, untamable, and loathes Targaryens.”

“That does not ease my mind, father.”

“We have it handled,” Otto brought his goblet to his lips, taking a modest sip. “Worry your mind with something more important, such as the marital fate of your children. The King wishes to marry Clement Celtigar with Helaena.”

Alicent stood up straight in her seat, eyes wide, “But she is to marry Aegon.”

Otto nods, “We should have done that long ago. We must deter him from that idea, and consider another match. He wants to unite the Celtigars with the Targaryens, then there are plenty to choose from.”

The queen swallowed, knowing who he was implying, “There are still Daemon’s girls… Surely one of them would be a better fit to be the future Lady of Claw Isle.”

“As I suggested, but his Grace does not wish to speak on behalf of his brother. And you know Daemon… he will do the complete opposite to what is told of him.”

“There is Daeron–”

Otto lifted his hand up to stop her, “Alicent. Please… You cannot skirt around this any longer. Aemond is your second eldest son – he must marry.”

“He does not have to marry a Celtigar,” Alicent bent forward as she placed her now tepid tea on his desk. “It is a wiser match to pair him with one of the Baratheon girls. Daeron is of similar age to Bartimos’ younger daughter, Shyla. You cannot deny that it would be perfect.”

Otto stared at his daughter with dwindling patience, his hand gripped the back of his chair as he looked down at her as a father would to a stubborn daughter. He supposed he would have to tell her of his plans for Daeron sooner or later, and now seemed the best possible timing. Particularly since he needed her to be compliant if he was going to succeed in the strategic marriage alliances he wished to orchestrate.

“I’ve had Daeron keep a correspondence with Floris Baratheon for the past few moons. They have become quite familiar and fond of each other – Lord Borros is aware, and he approves of the match.”

Alicent launched herself from her seat, rounding the desk towards her father, “You did what?” Otto opened his mouth, but the question was rhetorical, and she was not going to let him speak. “You cannot make such decisions without my counsel, father! I am Daeron’s mother! I have the final say on who he is betrothed to!”

“Alicent,” her father stepped towards her, towering over her form and reminding her of how little power she actually has. “Daeron’s name has not left your lips for moons at a time. He is the son of Oldtown, raised by your uncle, brother, and cousins! You should be happy for him! The boy will marry a lady from a great house, who he has found friendship with and may even love!”

With pursed lips, Alicent’s face blanched at every word, slowly shrinking away from him.

Otto heaved a heavy sigh when he absorbed her expression, and then downed the rest of his wine before placing it onto his desk.

“Aemond must marry one of the Celtigar girls, to appease your husband, your King. Despite the bad blood between them, Valeana Celtigar is the smartest choice. She is Bartimos’ eldest blood daughter, and her mother was a Lannister. She has the blood of two of the richest families in the Seven Kingdoms, the Crown’s treasury would be overflowing with her dowry alone.”

“Is that what this is? You will force two people who hate each other into a marriage just for gold?”

Otto waved dismissively, “Aemond does not hate Valeana. He only fears her. That will change once her belly swells with his first child.”

Alicent furrowed her brow and shook her head. Her fingers carded through her auburn tresses in frustration. Then turning around to collect herself, her slender digits moved from her hair, down to her throat.

“She will not forgive him,” She finally spoke. “Did you know that they had to amputate her foot, and part of her leg? Just under the knee.”

There was a heavy pause before Otto replied in a softer voice, “No… I did not.”

Alicent turned to him again, brows upturned worryingly, eyes glossy with tears of frustration and guilt, “What happens if Aemond cannot gain her trust? What if Bartimos refuses?”

Sighing through his mustache, the Hand of the King leaned against his desk, “He may marry the younger one… But if Bartimos even refuses that proposal, then… Then, The King will take it upon himself to marry Helaena to Clement Celtigar, and everything we’ve worked hard for will be in vain. Aegon will have less claim to the Throne than Rhaenyra and Daemon’s legitimate Targaryen children. He must marry his sister if the Realm is ever going to see him as Viserys’ true heir.”

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“There you are!”

Aegon jostled, jumping in his seat at the unwelcome surprise. The bottle he was nursing spilled some ale from the rim and onto his thighs.

“Bastard, I’ll have you hang– Oh, Shyla Celtigar!” His voice heightened, his lips twitched to hold his faux grin. “What— What a lovely…lovely surprise. How, er, did you find me?”

He was sitting on a balcony in the far east tower, not at the top, but quite near it. The space lacked foot traffic, which he preferred. Hiding from Shyla wasn’t even in the forefront of his mind – in fact he had forgotten about his little stalker for the last two days, since that night had happened. Aegon’s mind had been otherwise preoccupied with other things, other someones. He just needed a reprieve, a quiet, lonely place where no one could find him…

He should’ve known better. It was Shyla afterall.

“I saw you by your lonesome from the Serpentine Steps,” she grinned, all gums, as she helped herself to a seat on the balcony’s edge next to him. Her hands immediately found his unoccupied one, and caged it in her fingers. He tried to slyly pull away, but she had a surprising strong grip. “I was thinking about when we should tell our parents about us. I thought we could wait until everyone arrives, but I am just too excited!” She bounced around on her spot. “The sooner, the better. We could be husband and wife by the end of the moon’s cycle.”

Aegon chuckled nervously, and took a large gulp from his bottle of ale with a shaking wrist.

“Oh, no, no– I don’t think–”

“You know Aegon,” She shuffled her bottom and got closer to him, and batted her eyelashes. “This tower is very empty. We’re alone up here.”

He felt a nervous burp bubble through his teeth, “Oh, but if you were able to see me from the steps then— Oh, oh~”

She had taken his hand, then proceeded to slip his middle and pointer finger through her lips… and started to suckle on them. Heat collected to his groin, and Aegon’s mind turned into a battlefield between team common sense and team needy cock. And like always, his cock was winning by a landslide. Due to the feeling of her tongue circling the tips of his fingers, his mouth popped open to let a whimper escape.

Aegon swallowed, “Shit.”

Shyla slipped his fingers slowly out of her mouth, then had them trail down her lip and chin slowly, proceeding more south.

“Shit, shit, shit,” His resolve was dying, and the memory of why he was even trying to avoid her in the first place started to fade in the haze of a rosy coloured lust fog.

But before he could dive his fingers in between her heaving breasts, a third voice broke through the static of his empty brain.

“Shyla!”

“I wasn’t touching her!” Aegon sprang away from the brunette, bum sliding to the far right of the balcony until his back hit the wall. When his eyes finally registered who was standing at the entrance of the rounded empty room, he heaved a great sigh of relief, and his lips pulled into a giant, grateful, grin. “Lady Valeana! What-wh-what another lovely surprise.”

The blonde raised an eyebrow at him, then turned back to her sister, “Mother has been looking for you. You need another fitting for that dress.”

Shyla pouted, “But I’m busy! And how did you know I was here?”

“I can see you from the Steps clear as day,” Val glanced at Aegon when she said that. “Ought to be more careful. Someone might think your purity is compromised, and then father will be forced to send you back to the Isle.”

Shyla’s eyes widened and her back went rigid straight, “He wouldn’t. Surely he wouldn’t!”

“He would!” Valeana nodded, eyes mockingly wide. “You’d embarrass him, and the entire house. He will be forced to send you away and make you become a septa.”

Shyla sprung to her feet with a gasp, then moved so far away from Aegon that one would think he was the predator in the room (which would be a fair assumption).

“No! No! We weren’t doing anything! I didn’t– Aegon?”

“No, no, your sister was perfectly chaste,” Aegon was quick to say, pretending to give the girl a secret nod and wink.

“See!”

“I believe you, Shy, but the court may not. Luckily I saw no one around, so you got off lucky. But mayhaps you should find mother before someone does come around and makes up defamatory rumours about you and our family.”

Shyla nodded, arms all jittery as she collected her skirts and turned to Aegon to give him a stiff curtsey, “Thank you for being a gentleman, my prince. If you may excuse me, my mother calls.”

Aegon nodded, “You’re–” he coughed, then crossed his legs. “You’re excused, my lady.”

The two waited as Shyla was out of the tower, stepping briskly down the Serpentine Steps with her back towards him.

Aegon turned to his saviour, “Seven bless you, Valeana Celtigar. If you hadn’t come when you did–”

Val lifted her hand to stop him, “Hm, yes, I know. Bad decisions, weak will, crazy sister.”

She walked over to the balcony, sitting at the far end, ensuring there is ample space between them should someone actually spot the two sitting there in the tower, alone.

Aegon hadn’t seen her since that night, at least not this personally. She was spending a lot of her time with his sister and by herself it seemed. He caught her a few times from atop a parapet, sitting alone in the garden or next to the Heart Tree. He thought many times to come down to converse with her, to see how she was doing, but the idea felt foreign to him. He wouldn’t know what to say, nor was he equipped with dealing with womanly emotions should she get hysterical on him.

In truth, he was scared of something else entirely. Something he couldn’t quite recognize.

“I never got a chance to properly thank you,” Valeana finally broke the silence. “For that night. It was very kind and… honestly surprising.”

“Yes, well–” He cleared his throat. His hands gripped his knee as he kept his legs crossed, “It was-it was no problem at all. It used to happen to Helaena quite frequently, and I– Well, It’s just something I picked up over time.”

She smiled gently, genuinely, and it forced Aegon to swallow thickly.

“She told me. It still surprises me.”

“What? I can be kind… I can be…I don’t know, benign?”

She laughed, soft and airy, “I’ve never known you to be either of those, so yes, it is surprising.”

“I suppose that’s fair,” he gave a stiff shrug. “I don’t have the shiniest of reputations. I’m no Ae— Hm, sorry.”

Val tilted her head, “You can say his name, I’m not going to fall into a fit over it.”

“I don’t know what provokes you.”

“I’m not that sensitive,” she looked down at her hands. “That was the first fit I’ve had in quite a while.”

Even if she wasn’t looking at him, Aegon gave a nod in lieu of not knowing how to respond to that. He opened his mouth to ask a stupid question, like how the weather was treating her, or if she had seen any interesting birds lately. Anything to change the topic… He was terrible at poignant conversations. But she beat him to it.

“I have done a lot of thinking.”

“A terrible passtime, I find.”

“Possible. Probably,” She looked up at him, “I’m going to forgive him.”

“Who?”

“Aemond.”

Aegon’s legs loosened, and then he leaned forward with a raised eyebrow, “Why in the world would you do that? He’s been a monster to you. He does not deserve your forgiveness.”

She tilted her head at him, “With that logic, then I should never forgive you either. Your brother may have severed our friendship and betrayed my trust, but you took copious amounts of delight in cruelly teasing me and my sisters in our shared youth. And I do mean cruel… I’ve never forgotten a thing you’ve said.”

At that, Aegon turned away, unable to face the shame of the past. His shoulder hit the back of the wall again, and in a swift moment he picked up the forgotten bottle of ale to occupy his hands.

“You shouldn’t forgive me then,” he finally replied. “I was– am a cad,” Aegon brought the bottle to his lips and took a small gulp. He shook his head then, and looked back at her. He nearly regretted it by the way she was assessing him, green marbles full of a warmth that he did not deserve. “What changed your mind?”

Her hands stiffly went to her sides, palms pressed against the stone ledge they sat on, “Helaena made me see things a bit more clearly. I pushed Aemond away the moment I got here, and –” she sighed heavily. “He is reacting defensively. He was right, afterall, I was making it more difficult than it needed to be. Had I been more cordial with him from the start, we might’ve become– Ugh, I’m just tired… I’m tired of being bitter. I just want peace of mind. I need to apologize to him, and allow him to do the same.”

Aegon’s shoulders sagged a bit; he wanted to groan so exasperatingly. Here he was, dick still hard, and Valeana was over there making him feel feelings and all that nonsense.

“I’m not going to pretend to support your decision,” Aegon said, emphasizing it with a brandish of his half drunk bottle. “I honestly don’t know why you like my brother at all, to be perfectly honest. He’s a tightass, so full of himself, and a massive bore– Sorry! I digress. I don’t agree that he deserves your forgiveness, let alone your apology, but… I’ll help, if you need me. Only to keep your peace of mind. I don’t want you running through the corridors at night crying again. I need sleep, too.”

She smiled sweetly again, and Aegon mentally cursed when his cock twitched between his legs. When Valeana scooched closer to him to put a hand on his arm, he pressed himself further into the wall.

“Thank you, Aegon. You’re not as much of a cad as you think you are.”

Aegon melted into the stone that caged him in. He partly wanted to just slip through the gaping balcony and meet the Stranger at the base of the tower, but her hand on his arm grounded him in place. He cleared his throat and adjusted himself, with legs still crossed and hand still clutching his bottle like a life preserver.

It was difficult to look at her for this.

“Yes, well… I don’t know if I entirely agree with you… But, for what it is worth, Valeana… I am sorry. For, y’know, everything I’ve done.”

He could see her swallow down her emotions as much as he did, and he found himself captivated by her neck as she did. When his gaze moved north, he openly stared at the purse of her lips, and how she moved her tongue over to relieve the chapped skin.

“I appreciate the apology, Aegon,” her hand squeezed his arm. “And,” air filled her chest, pressing the neckline tighter over her bosom, and it was taking his last shred of willpower not to look down. “I forgive you.”

His purple eyes shot up to hers.

Val gave a soft laugh, “Gods, what a weird thing for me to say.”

He laughed too, albeit more nervously, “Yes, very weird.”

She pulled away, and he could finally relax his muscles. “I’ll make it up to you for what you did for me,” she declared as she sat up, hands smoothing out the wrinkles of her simple vermillion gown. “I’ll get Shyla off your tail. She has a fickle heart, so it is only a matter of diverting her attention onto someone else.”

“Poor bloke,” Aegon eased himself from the wall he was clinging to. “I mean – your sister is just lovely–”

“I am well aware she is deranged, Aegon.”

“You said it, not me.”

With a hand running down her face, Valeana gave a soft chuckle, “Right… Well, I should be going. Are you going to remain here?”

He cleared his throat and adjusted his leg, “Y-yes. I have, uhm– some business to attend to.”

Her brow knitted, “Business? What possible business could you– Oh,” she caught his eyes flickering to his crotch. “Oh! Oh, Gods, Aegon, this entire time?”

Aegon cringed, his lips pulling downward as he sucked his teeth, “Yes. I’m afraid he won’t be put down until I take care of’em. Once the little bugger is up, he’s up.”

“Seven Hells, Aegon!”

“You’re welcome to stay and show me more of your gratitude–” The woman’s hand raised ready to strike him across the face, “It was a jest! A jest!”

Notes: I know this was very non Aemond heavy, but I needed to get some plot points through that's going on in the background. Though I'm hoping to get the next chapter out sooner than intended, because it's a good'un.

Tag: @queen-of-elves, @keylin1730, @anakilusmos, @weepingfashionwritingplaid, @sugutoad, @desireangel

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Please do not re post, redistribute or plagiarize my work. The only other place this story is posted on is ao3 under the same username.

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