#we need her to STOP with her nonsense and we need YOU to stop engaging with her promoting her shitty business

[incognit0slut]

The Last Laugh

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Spencer is forced to share a room with his rival. This is part two of Lose Control but can be read as a standalone.

warnings: sexual tension, a lot of banter, female oral, edging, rough sex, unplanned creampie (is that a thing?) words: 5,3k a/n: someone requested a part two with a one-bedroom trope and since this is one of my favorite stories, I had to do it

...Thinkin' you're winnin' with all of your grinning but I got the last laugh...

"I'M NOT SLEEPING WITH REID."

The idea was absurd. Ridiculous. Insane. Out of all the people in her team, why was she paired up with him?

According to Garcia, the only choice she had to spend the night in this remote town was with the person she least wanted to engage with. Did Garcia not know how much she had been trying to avoid him? How much she had been attempting to act as if the mere proximity with him wasn't making her lose her mind?

"Why not?" Garcia asked, handing her a key. "He's not that bad of a roommate, well, if you overlook his tendency to share random facts in the middle of the night, then he's really not that bad."

"Do you not hear yourself?" She steadied her gaze to her friend. "You want me to share a room with the person I hate the most?"

Garcia rolled her eyes. "You guys really should stop with this nonsense. You're both grown adults."

"I'll treat him like an adult if he starts to act like one." Her eyes drifted toward the man of the hour, standing at the other end of this old-looking hotel that seemed too close to falling apart, engaged in conversation with Luke. She then glanced back at Garcia. "Why can't he share a room with Luke?"

"Because I'm sharing a room with Luke."

She shot Garcia an incredulous look. "You're rooming with Luke? Since when?"

"Since always. We're buddies, remember?" She cocked an eyebrow and Garcia sighed. "Don't look at me like that, we're just friends. Besides, you and Reid are the only ones left without a roommate. Consider this your opportunity for personal growth or whatever."

"Personal growth? More like a crash course in patience. And what's the deal with Reid anyway? Why does he always have to be the exception?"

Garcia leaned in, her tone conspiratorial. "Well, let's just say Luke and I enjoy our peace. Reid, on the other hand, is like a walking encyclopedia. I figured it's your turn to experience that charm up close."

She scowled, a mix of annoyance and resignation on her face. "Charm? That's a generous way to put it."

Garcia stared back with an air of nonchalance that only seemed to amplify her exasperation. "Look, it's only one night. What's the worst that could happen?"

She shot her friend a withering glance as if the absurdity of the situation needed no further clarification. "The worst is that I might end up committing another crime in this town before the night ends."

Garcia raised an eyebrow, her amusement evident. "You're exaggerating, Reid is harmless. Plus, all the other rooms are fully booked. Consider yourself lucky we even found a place to stay."

"Lucky is not the word I would use right now."

"Just try to survive the night without killing each other," Garcia chuckled, ignoring the glare shot towards her way. "Give him a chance."

Her incredulous stare intensified. "A chance? Garcia, the man tried to argue with me about the most efficient way to organize my desk. And you know what's ironic? His own desk is a complete mess."

Garcia sighed, her playful demeanor softening. "One night, Y/n, that's all I'm asking."

She pursed her lips together. She could go on about how bad it would be to share a room with him, but the thing was, it would raise questions she did not want to answer. There was a limit to how much her disdain could stop her from entertaining the idea, and her avoidance, she realized, was more than just mere hatred.

Annoyed that she couldn't do anything to escape the situation, she shot a disapproving glance at him, who was still engrossed in conversation with Luke. With a resigned shake of her head, she turned back to Garcia.

"Whatever." She sighed, begrudgingly accepting the key Garcia handed her. "But if he starts reciting facts about, I don't know, the history of dental floss or something, I'm blaming you."

Garcia laughed. "Fair enough." She shoved her shoulder playfully. "But who knows, maybe you'll discover he's not as bad as you think."

That was the problem. Spencer Reid, in her eyes, was starting to... change. And she hated that. Why was the man she had never bothered to befriend occupying her mind more than she wanted him to? Was it because she now knew what it felt like to have his body pressed against hers? What it felt like to have him grunt in pleasure right in her ear? Just because they had sex?

Nope. Nuh-huh. She wasn't going to think of him differently tonight—or ever, for that matter.

She gave Garcia one last glare before making her way across the creaky floorboards toward him. Noticing her presence coming close, Spencer looked up and a slight tension filled the air as his gaze locked with hers. She quickly shook her head.

"You're sleeping on the floor," she declared with a point of her finger when she reached him.

A small amused smile played on his lips. "We're sharing a room?"

"Unfortunately," she grumbled. She then focused her attention on Luke. "Do you want to switch roommates?"

Luke chuckled. "I'm afraid I'm stuck with Garcia. Besides," he patted Spencer on the shoulder, "Don't act like you're not eager to spend the night with him."

Her eyes went wide. "What is that supposed to mean?"

Luke simply shrugged with a mischievous glint in his eyes, and walked away, leavingher staring at Spencer with a mix of confusion and suspicion. "What did you tell him?"

Spencer frowned. "Nothing." He sighed when her stare didn't back down. "Nothing, I swear. Luke tends to have his own way of interpreting things."

She narrowed her eyes, not entirely convinced, but decided to let it go for the moment. She turned on her heels, not waiting for him as she walked to their destinated room. She felt his presence close behind her but kept her mouth closed.

Spencer, on the other hand, found the situation amusing. He really shouldn't find any entertainment in her visible annoyance towards him, but he did. He couldn't help but notice that despite being angry, she still looked unbelievably attractive. The scowl on her face, her pursed lips, her chest heaving in anger. He took a step closer.

"This must be hard for you," he commented.

"What is?" she shot back, maintaining her brisk pace.

"Staying the night with me when you've been avoiding me."

Her jaw tightened. "I haven't been avoiding you."

"Really? So you haven't gone out of your way to avoid looking in my direction ever since what happened?"

Her steps faltered for a moment, but she quickly regained her composure, refusing to show any vulnerability. "That doesn't mean I've been actively avoiding you. It just means I have better things to do than engage in pointless conversations."

Spencer raised an eyebrow, a knowing glint in his eyes. "Pointless conversations, or conversations you're trying to avoid?"

She shot him a sharp look but didn't respond. "You know," he began again. "You do seem to be acting differently ever since that day."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Spencer couldn't resist a faint smile at her denial. "You really don't know what I'm referring to?"

She huffed, not giving him the satisfaction of a response. The narrow hallway seemed to amplify the unresolved tension between them as they stopped right in front of their room. She could feel his gaze on her, and it only fueled her annoyance.

She tried to ignore him by unlocking the door, but as she pushed it open, she felt his presence looming behind her. His proximity was so close that she held her breath as he gripped the edge of the door in front of her. His breath brushed her neck and her eyes involuntarily fluttered close when his other hand slowly rested on her waist.

"Should I help you jog your memory back?"

Her eyes shot open. She shoved him aside and stepped into the room. "No funny business, Reid. Keep your dick in your pants tonight."

His laughter lingered in the air as he followed her inside, closing the door behind him. "The question is," he taunted. "Can you keep it in my pants?"

She scoffed. Who was he and what did he do to the Spencer she once knew? The guy she remembered lacked any humor and always kept his distance from her. It was hard to believe a simple encounter—could you call sex as simple?—had turned him so crude, or maybe, she considered, this was his true self all along.

She decided to ignore his words as her eyes scanned the cramped room, containing only an old dresser, a nightstand, and a queen-sized bed, which she pointed at assertively. "That bed is mine."

His brow furrowed. "Why do I have to sleep on the floor?"

"You want me to sleep on the floor?" Her hand gracefully moved to her chest in a dramatic gasp. "Where is your chivalry, Dr. Reid?"

"We could share the bed."

She simply stared back at him, her eyes narrowing with a mix of disbelief and incredulity. Spencer, unable to resist stirring the pot, shot back with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Come on, it won't be so bad. Did you know that the concept of sharing a bed has been a cultural practice for centuries? It symbolizes unity and—"

"Reid," she interrupted, shooting him a pointed look. "If you're trying to annoy me, you're doing an excellent job."

He grinned, clearly enjoying her irritation. "I'm just stating a fact. Sharing a room, sharing a bed—it's all deeply rooted in human history."

She sighed, rolling her eyes. "I highly doubt our situation is deeply rooted in anything other than poor hotel arrangements."

Spencer chuckled, undeterred, his laughter resonating in the dimly lit room as he took a step closer to her. The worn-out floor creaked beneath his feet, echoing the subtle tension that lingered in the confined space of the room. "You never know. We might be making history right now."

She shot him a skeptical look, her gaze unwavering. "I doubt historians will be interested in this disaster."

He raised an eyebrow. "Are you always this skeptical, or is it just reserved for me?"

"It's just reserved for annoying people," she retorted, not missing a beat. She took a deliberate step closer to him, the air thick with a blend of tension and... something else. Her heart quickened as his gaze swiftly swept over her lips before dragging back to her eyes.

"Really?" He closed the distance between them, and she held her ground, tilting her head back to meet his gaze due to his towering height. A subtle trace of his scent hung in the air, his presence enveloping her. She felt a sudden shift in the air, her senses heightened, and her eyes traced the contours of his face—the sharp angles of his jaw, the warmth reflected in his hazel eyes. She also could sense the initial surge of longing coursing through her body.

Shit.

"Believe it or not," he added, his voice a low murmur that resonated in the confined space. "I find your company quite fascinating."

"Fascinating?" She responded, but it came out more breathless than she had intended. She took a deep breath, trying to act as if his close proximity wasn't affecting her. Her pulse, however, betrayed her composure. And it was evident in her voice. "T- That's a stretch."

"Really?" His lips curved into a subtle smile, catching the shift in her demeanor. "I think there's a small part of you that's enjoying this."

"Enjoy what? Your random facts and annoying habits?"

Spencer leaned forward. A tension crackled between them, and it swam in his eyes and played on his lips. It pulled at her chest, making her heartbeat flutter in her throat, and to her surprise, he extended his hand, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. His touch left a searing sensation on her skin.

"Admit it, you're starting to see a different side of me."

She shook her head, refusing to acknowledge his point. "One night doesn't change anything."

"You're right." His hand made its way to the back of her neck, pulling her closer to him. "It can change everything."

Before she could register what he was doing, he closed the distance between them, holding her still as his lips crashed on hers. A thousand things flooded her mind all at once—each of them revolving around him. The way she melted into him felt oddly natural. The way his hands began to roam her body, the way her mouth opened for his tongue, the way her kisses became hungrier, also felt natural.

Which was bad. Really, really bad. This wasn't supposed to happen. One time, she could call it a mistake. But allowing him to have his way with her for the second time... there was no one to blame but herself. She should push him away and set the boundaries she was supposed to set the moment he invaded her personal space. But it was hard to think rationally when he tasted so good.

It was hard to stand her ground when his teeth softly nibbled her bottom lip. It was hard to think straight when she was already pulling hard at the locks at the base of his neck as his tongue explored her mouth, blindly walking her back until her back was pressing onto the wall.

"Look at you," he laughed against her lips. "You're not pushing me away."

"Shut up," she hissed, trying her best to keep her tone icy. But then again, it was hard to stay angry when he was touching her like this. His greedy hand traveled up her thighs, massaging the plush flesh. His fingers finally found the hem of her pants, and he swallowed her moan when they dipped underneath the material, slipping right underneath her panties.

Her breath hitched when two of his long fingers slide between her folds, spreading her slick before finding its rightful place on her clit. Spencer didn't hesitate when he started rubbing at her nub, smooth and deliberate, it made her toes curl and her body jumped in a moment of surprised bliss.

Her sound of pleasure was music to his ears, urging him to satisfy her even more. He was quick when those same fingers dipped inside her core, her inner walls tensing at the sudden yet pleasurable stretch. There was a distinct sound along her needy whines, wet and slapping as his palm makes contact with her clit every time he was knuckle-deep inside her. Her head fell back to the wall, mouth agape, face flushed—a sight Spencer secretly wanted to commit into his memory.

Without even noticing it, her hips started grinding to chase his fingers, desperate to reach that familiar pleasure twisting in her core. Her movement didn't go unnoticed by him, an amused, deep chuckle reverberating from his chest while he pulled his fingers out of her, rubbing her clit aggressively, knowing it would make her reach her high faster.

"You're going to cum, aren't you? This quick?" She glared at him through half-lidded eyes, not giving him an answer. His smile widened at her resistance. "Do you think I should let you?"

Her heart quickened its pace, knowing well enough what he was about to do. He was going to tease her, or as she liked to think, he was going to torture her by not giving her what she wanted. Her theory was proved right when he leaned down, his face inches away from hers, a sly smile on his lips.

"Beg me."

She quickly shook her head. A hand snaked up her back until it found the base of her skull. His fingers brushed through her strands before gripping hard, sending a jolt of pain down her spine as he yanked her head back.

"Beg me."

"Fuck you—ah!" A sudden pressure of his fingers sent pleasure shooting through her, pushing a moan from her that filled the room like a ringing bell—a bell that signaled the fact that despite how much she knew she shouldn't, she was already surrendering to his touch.

"No?" He taunted, his breath brushing against her ear. "Then I'm not letting you cum."

And just like that, the pleasure rippling through her body was ripped away.

He swiftly pulled his hand from under her pants with a smirk she wanted to wipe off before turning his back to her, leaving her all flustered. She took a moment to collect herself, her mind racing to grasp the situation. She loathed him. She really did. She despised the way he was so full of himself.

With a determined exhale, she shook off the flustered feeling that lingered. He may have momentarily unsettled her, but she was not one to let her guard down easily. She was not going to let him get under her skin. If he could make her sexually frustrated, then so could she.

If he was going to play dirty, she was going to get filthy.

Her shirt was the first thing that came off. Then she unbuttoned her pants, pulling them down over her legs. Dear god, she was going to regret this, wasn't she? But she couldn't stop. Not when the rustle of her clothes echoed in the quiet space and Spencer turned around, jaw slacked, a startled expression crossed his face as he watched her.

"W-What are you doing?"

There. That was what she wanted. That priceless, wide-eyed, disbelief face. She had to keep going.

"Taking matters into my own hands."

Her hand reached around to unclasp her bra before she intentionally took her time sliding the straps down her arms, enjoying the way his jaw clenched as you did. Eyes still focused on him, she tossed it to the side. Her hands lowered afterward, and an audible gasp escaped his lips as she slipped her fingers into the waistband of her underwear, sliding them down her legs.

"You're always so smug," she murmured, taking a step forward, closing the distance between them. "Thinking you have control of me."

Right hand reaching up, her fingertips just lightly swept the length of his stubbled chin, just below his lips. The corner of his mouth only drew up further at her touch. She smiled at his reaction, and her fingers dropped down to grip his chin firmly.

"But I can satisfy myself just fine."

And then she pulled away, the smirk now missing from his lips as she backed out of his reach. She then settled on the bed, and with her eyes never leaving him, she spread her legs wide open. She watched as a breathless sigh escaped his lips and smiled triumphantly, especially when the bulge growing in his dark pants was impossible to ignore.

With her gaze lingering on his steadily growing erection, she trailed her hand down her stomach, the tips of her fingers paused just over her clit. "What's wrong, Reid?" She hummed out, watching his chest heave. "You seem to be speechless."

Because he was, how could he not be when the pad of her middle finger slowly started to lightly circle over her clit. He watched as she teased herself, fingers gliding between her folds, gathering her arousal before slipping a finger inside. She gasped, the wet sound was audible even to her own ears as she gradually pumped her finger in and out.

He took a step closer, and her fingers moved faster as his eyes raked over her body—her luscious breasts fully exposed, legs spread apart, fingers between her thighs. A faint moan fell out of her, her eyes partially closing all the while her fingers never ceased their movement, vigorously thrusting into her cunt.

She then proceeded to put on a show for him, throwing her head back and rolling her hips. He was standing close to her now, eyes focused on her body, his tongue sliding along his lower lip. Her cunt immediately clenched at the sight of him, a bulge straining at the fabric of his pants. The sight sent a surge of warmth through her body, spreading from between her thighs to her cheeks as her fingers quickened in pace and her legs spread farther for him to see.

He was trying to hold himself, it was obvious in the way he held his composure. But then she watched with satisfaction as he stalked towards her, and just because she wanted to fluster him, she couldn't help herself from letting out a needy whine as she slipped her fingers out before rubbing her clit desperately, her eyes boring into his.

"Spencer," she moaned.

That was precisely when he lost it. He didn't even hesitate. He marched straight to her, and her finger stopped in its movement as she watched him settle between her legs, sinking to his knees. He wrapped his arms around her thighs and roughly yanked her over the edge of the mattress, and she fell on her back with a squeal.

"You're a goddamn tease, you know that?" He sneered, his warm breath brushing over her heat. "Fine, I'll let you win this time."

A gasp escaped her lips when he wasted no time leaning in, burying his head between her thighs. He wasted no time as she grabbed onto the sheets, feeling his tongue draw circles around her clit before flicking up and down at a rapid pace. Her thighs tighten around his head. and her whole body trembled beneath him, encouraging him to move his tongue faster.

His fingers dug into her thighs, holding them apart as he took his time. Ever so slowly he licked up her slit, gathering her juices on his tongue until he reached her clit, groaning every second of the way until she was shivering beneath his touch. She was breathless, mind buzzing and the room spinning as he thrust his tongue into her warmth, face becoming so deep between her thighs that heat rushed through her body.

When her thighs trembled and threatened to close, he made sure two heavy palms kept them open long enough for his tongue to drag deeper inside her. With a roll of his tongue, he was lapping at her walls, swallowing every drop until the second he heard her begin to whine.

It was embarrassing, letting him hear how worked up she was. But she couldn't help it, not when she was losing control of her mind and body. Her hips were starting to buck to meet his tongue. Her jaw slacked. Low moans spilled from her lips as he continued to ravish her, and her fingers dug into the sheets beneath her to hold onto her sanity as waves of pure overwhelming pleasure took hold of her.

"Oh my god," she whimpered, voice two octaves higher before growing silent. She was so, so close to the edge, his tongue relentlessly sucking her clit, licking, swirling over her entrance until her mind fell blank from the bliss. The heat began swelling from between her thighs, tension tightening and all she did was screw her eyes shut.

But seconds before the pleasure was nearly too much to bear, he suddenly pulled away.

"Reid!" She hissed, looking down between her legs. "You're fucking annoying."

He looked up at her with a teasing glint in his eyes, then his mouth parted a second before his tongue swiped over his lip to taste the remnants of her arousal. "What?"

Unbelievable. After pulling that stunt, he had the audacity to feign innocence. She huffed and opened her mouth to retort something but when he started to undress himself, she couldn't think of anything. Her mind was too busy taking in his slightly toned arms, his broad chest, his slim waist, and that patch of soft hair trailing down his stomach, disappearing underneath his pants.

And that was gone too, and now he was standing without any shred of clothing, and it then dawned on her that they were both very much naked. Their first time in that dusty storage room happened too fast that they didn't bother taking off their clothes, but now she had the time to sink in the way he looked wearing nothing but a smirk.

"I didn't bring a condom," he said as he climbed onto the bed. Like that was going to stop them, it didn't stop them before and it most definitely won't stop them now.

"It's fine," she mumbled just as he settled between her legs again, but when his eyes lit up at her words, she smacked his shoulder. "But you're still not finishing inside me."

He merely hummed a reply. Then seconds later he was lining up the tip of his cock with her entrance. His eyes meet hers as he teased her, and she noticed the smirk appear once again on his lips. She pushed her hips toward him, gripping his arm irritatedly, and released a breathy 'hurry up' before she could change her mind.

He wasted no more time pushing himself into her without warning, earning a gasp while he stretched her completely. He pressed his body into her, allowing her lips to collide with his and moan into the kiss when she felt him pull away just enough to slam back into her with one harsh thrust. His hands suddenly reached for her wrists, and he gripped them above her head, pushing them onto the mattress.

His eyes darkened as he looked down at her, and she quickly shut her own as he pumped himself into her cunt over and over again. His motions were aggressive, sloppy, and wild. The moment a particularly deep and brutal thrust hit her at the right spot was the moment she finally gave in to weakness as she let out a loud moan, her mind going blank to everything but the pleasure he was giving her.

Then he pulled back again, and his thick cock slid out of her partway, glistening with her juices, splitting her pussy apart around it before snapping forward, his hips going at a brutal pace, making her whole body bounce from the contact.

"God, you feel incredible," he groaned out just as she gasped from the intense pressure of him inside her, head falling above her, jaw slacked, sweat dripping down his temple. Her eyes fluttered open before exhaling a heavy breath, feeling him tightening his grip on her wrists. "We need to do this more often."

Though she didn't say it, she agreed with him. And it pained her to even consider making this a habit. But it was tempting. It was so tempting that the thought of having him inside her anytime and anywhere had her clenching around his cock, earning a low grunt deep within his chest.

Then something snapped inside her. She had started off holding back, keeping herself in check against the rising wave of sensations. But then, in a moment that felt like a long-awaited release, she decided finally to let go when he continued to hit that perfect spot inside her, and she almost felt ashamed at the noises she was making. She wasn't as vocal when she was alone, nor with other men, yet the man she claimed to hate earned every whimper, every desperate moan.

Hearing her cries urged Spencer even more. He leaned over to her and pushed himself deeper, earning a gasp from her as her legs fell apart even further, letting him sink himself as deep as he could. He pushed her hands above her head and hovered above her, letting his temple fall against hers as his hips rutted violently.

The pressure rose and the tension coiled in the pit of her stomach. Sweats beaded over her skin just the same as him, crying out for him, moans mixing with filthy noises of him thrusting into her wet cunt. His powerful thrusts then quickened, causing her to grow weak her body began to quiver in his grasp.

She cried out, wanting to warn him she was growing close to the edge, her mind growing numb, everything around her fading into black. But didn't give her the chance to speak before he pressed his mouth on hers in a heated kiss, all sloppy and wet and desperate, latching on her lips with so much fervor.

She felt him everywhere. On her lips, biting on her soft flesh. On her breasts, his chest rubbing against her hard nipples. And between her legs, his cock stretching her deliciously, a pleasant feeling that had her whining against his mouth.

But before she could whimper anything else, the pleasure erupted inside of her, red hot heat unraveling to every limb. Her release was a fiery blast—white-hot and overwhelming, turning her into the image of destruction. Her hair stuck to her skin, her back arching off the bed, feeling overwhelmed as his cock hit her deeper. She succumbed to the bliss, eyes shut tight, and her furrowed brow as she surrendered through her orgasm. 

He held her tighter, pumping himself into her as she finally let go, calling out his name in a breathless whimper. She came so hard her legs were shaking uncontrollably, but he didn't stop. He pounded into her harder, reveling in the way she fell apart for him.

"I-I'm close," he grunted. "Where... where do you want me to—"

"Inside."

He looked down at her, trying to hold himself to not combust right there and then. "Are you—" he groaned when she clenched around him. "Are you sure?"

She was already too deep in her climax that any worries faded away. It was like time slowed down, and all that mattered was the intense sensations taking over her body. It was wrong, but it was what she wanted. She wanted to be full of him.

"Yes. Please, just—please," she whispered. "Cum inside me."

It was enough for him to let go, chasing his own pleasure inside of her, hitting deep within her walls as her own arousal dripped out around him. The slick and messy noises mixed with his groans filled the room, heat continuing to rush to her face as her entire body became overly sensitive.

With one final, sharp inhale, the bliss took hold of him. His hips slowed as he began to release inside of her, filling her up with a few huffs and grunts, creating a bigger mess between her thighs. He thrust one last time as the last few drops spilled from him, continuing to press his body against hers as closely as possible.

Then everything went silent except the sound of their ragged breathing. He pulled out of her with a heavy sigh, just as spent as her, breathless beyond belief. He collapsed on the bed, his chest rising up and down as he tried to gain some sense of control, his mind trying to grasp on the euphoria that happened moments ago.

"Well that was—"

She quickly nodded beside him. "Yeah."

Spencer turned his head towards her, and she could already feel him gloating that before he had the chance to say anything, she covered his mouth with her hand. "Do not say anything."

His reply was muffled underneath her palm, and she didn't understand what he was trying to say. She didn't even bother wanting to listen to him anymore. So she got off the bed, wincing when she felt the mess dripping down her thighs as she walked over to the bathroom.

"Where are you going?"

"Taking a shower," she called out. "I feel... sticky."

She then heard some rustling and she turned to see him hopping off the bed, following behind her. She narrowed her eyes. "Where are you going?"

"I feel sticky too."

"Spencer."

His lips twitched into an amused smile. "You called me Spencer."

She groaned and turned around. "We're not showering together, Reid."

"Why not?" He pressed, following her behind. "I promise to be on my best behavior."

She looked at him, assessing the way he was practically begging with his eyes. She was pondering whether it was a good idea to spend more time with him in an enclosed space. Probably not, but considering all the filthy, nasty things they had done, sharing a shower seemed harmless. 

"Alright, fine," she caved in, letting out a sigh. "Just keep your hands to yourself."

He nodded eagerly, but she should've thought better when the spray of water finally hit their bodies and he closed in around her, burying his face in the crook of her neck as he held her waist. Then he pressed her against the cool tiles of the bathroom wall, and it was safe to say that he could not, as a matter of fact, keep his hands to himself.

Not that she was complaining.

.

a/n: I know this was supposed to be enemies to fuckable enemies but they're really starting to grow on me, they kinda cute

.

Oneshot taglist: @simpingforharryandcevans @strawbeerossi @lightvixxen @dim-i-try @annabellexox @baby-banana @natarataca @wolfbeanpotion @nagemasstuff @alexander-arcturus-black @rosieee491 @s00dastereo @no-honey-no @donttrustlove @tylevx @kailey-rae @sailorholly @ducksong @infinitegalaxiesworld @dreamsarebig @brilliantreid @boimlers-gonna-boim

PLEASE READ: The crossed-out ones are blogs I can’t tag. And if any of you asked me to be added and you're not on the list OR you want to be added in the future, please comment on this post so I can see it. But make sure your blog can be searched by anyone or I can't tag you. Thank you :)

#spencer reid x you #spencer reid x female reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid x self insert #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid #spencerreid #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid x fem!reader smut #spencer reid x fanfiction #spencer reid fic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fanfiction #Spotify

[pixiesfz]

Your SK ficcc 🥹🫶 please write more for Sam

wish is my command (reminder to everyone to send in request to the inbox I don’t judge for anything and I’ll most likely write it)

tattoo artist s.k

plot: Sam goes with Millie to watch her get a tattoo and finds the tattoo artist extremely attractive, she forgets to ask for your number so instead comes back the next week to get a tattoo herself.

warning: none really I guess (I was tempted to turn this into smut but it would only work if Sam was the bottom and I can not imagine that)

Millie was a frequent visitor to your shop, you were the magical artist who used her arm as a canvas after all.

She came in as usual, sometimes bringing a friend who was usually her boyfriend but when she came in with a friend behind her you smiled.

“Hi I’m y/n” you introduced yourself and the girl looked up.

Sam stopped for a second as she saw the girl in front of her, thankfully she hadn’t taken of her sunglasses yet so you couldn’t see how wide her eyes had opened.

When Millie said that she would like her tattoo artist she thought it would be a funny guy in his 30’s that probably had too many muscles to count.

She was not expecting you.

You with your shiny hair and surprisingly not tatted body which seemed to be glowing u der the harsh light behind you.

“I uh I- Sam” she stuttered and Millie turned her face away in embarrassment “I thought I recognised you Sam Kerr right?” You asked as you pulled out the chair for Millie to sit in “yeah” Sam said as she finally took her glasses of her face and onto her head.

“Our leading Striker” Millie added in as she winked to Sam when you turned around as Sam looked at her in bewilderment.

“So I hear” you smirked and Millie sat down “we here to finally finish this beauty?” You asked Millie who smiled “of course we are” she said and got comfy.

“Sam there’s a seat there if you’d like?” You told the girl who nodded “actually is there a toilet anywhere?” She asked and you nodded “just out the back on the left” you explained and she nodded and walked off.

When she went out of earshot you turned to Millie “Millie!” You whisper shouted “I told you that you would like her”

“And she’s Australian that’s like 1000+ points in my book” you gasped “if you want I can fall asleep in the chair so you can talk to her more” Millie offered and you rolled your eyes “nonsense” you said and then looked to wear the girl had gone “actually maybe”.

You had started tattooing Millie as she talked about her recent engagement when Sam walked back in “Sammy!” Millie cheered in her spot “does it not hurt?” She asked her friend with a smirk which you stopped to look at “you insinuating that I hurt my clients Kerr?” You asked and she blinked her eyes

“No I would never I was just-“ “I’m pulling your leg Sam you’re fine” you laughed and she sat down “ok” she muttered and you smiled.

She was very cute.

From her back pony tail, to her nicely designed shirt and shorts.

She caught you staring for a second before she cheekily pointed at Millie’s arm “can I tattoo something on you Mills?” She asked and Millie glared at the girl “lay a finger on me and I will break you” she warned and you and Sam looked at each other and laughed.

“Alrighty then, I need to focus” you said as you all three talked about soccer, then Sam asked if you had any partners “unfortunately not, most women don’t like when their girlfriends have to work night shifts” you admitted and Sam straightened her back.

You liked girls.

“I get that, most girls don’t like dating someone who has to travel a lot” she agreed and you smiled.

Sam liked girls.

By this stage Millie has miraculously fallen asleep and you pulled Sam’s wheel chair she was sitting on over.

“Watch this” you said as you went back to work on Millie’s arm, Sam watched as the ink stained into Millie’s skin, changing the colour of the skin that was still there.

“It’s cool isn’t it?” You asked and turned to her, only to find her already looking at you “yeah really cool” she hummed and you smiled “I only have a little bit to go so you can stay here and wake the devil up when I’m finished” you smirked and Sam laughed “okay”.

You finished up on Millie and on their way out, you and Sam kept on exchanging looks and Millie smirked, proud of herself.

“So we’ll probably see you next week? Sam asked and you crossed your head “unfortunately Millie’s arms all done so unless any of you want a tattoo you guys are free of me” you explained “oh” was all Sam said as she looked at the floor.

When they left you turned to see your co-worker who shrugged.

“If it makes you feel any better, If I was a girl and also into women I would have given you my number”

“Thankyou Terry”.

Millie explained the story to the team at the next training as they all turned to Sam.

“Are you mentally ill” Erin started off and Millie laughed “No seriously when we got into the car Sam had realised what she hadn’t done and freaked out on me”

“Guys can we not talk about this” Sam groaned and Niamh and Jessie both crossed their heads “no way” the England player started and Jessie looked at her “Why don’t you just go back to the shop?” She asked and Sam looked up “That’s actually a really good idea”

“Wait seriously none of you guys thought about that yet?” Jessie asked as Millie, Erin and Sam all crossed their heads.

Jessie looked at her team mates win worry as she looked at Niamh who shared her expression “oh my god”.

So that’s how Sam ended up I front of your shop at 10 pm with a choppy photo of a cool bird she saw once at a walk.

“Hey Kerr” you smiled as you opened the door for her to come in “hey y/n” she said and walked in “what gives me the pleasure” you joked and Sam smiled “I would like to get a tattoo” she explained and you nodded your head “I will say when someone comes to me with stupid tattoo ideas I turn them away so what you got?” You asked as you patted the chair.

Sam looked at you as you sorted out your inks, you wore a cropped T-shirt singlet and dark jeans but your apron covered the front half of your toned stomach which she was dying to see.

“Just something small on my wrist, just a bird” she shrugged and you nodded “any meaning?” You asked softly and Sam crossed her head “just something I like”.

You ignored Sam’s stares as you started the tattoo “what made you realise you want to get another tattoo?” You asked and Sam smirked “well you see my friend got one the other day by this really gorgeous lady”

You smirked at the girl who sat next to you “well this sounds interesting” you said as you went back to the almost finished tattoo.

“Yeah well I was like being really stupid and forgot to ask for her number” Sam dragged on and you smiled “I bet she really wanted that number” you said and Sam smiled.

“Can I have your number?”

“But what about the tattoo girl?” You asked with a fake gasp and Sam rolled her eyes.

“Yes I will gladly have your number Sam”.

#sam kerr x reader #sam kerr #woso #woso community #woso soccer #barclays wsl #chelsea wfc

[emberwritesinsight]

(Ramble below, not very structured)

I'm watching episode 9 again and losing my mind over the scene where Saionji fucking kidnaps Anthy because. I forgot how actually upset Anthy is?

Like. The way Anthy is fucking shouting as Saionji drags her up to the arena. The way she tries to physically stop him from getting in! What the fuck!

The way he just bats her out of the way and we get a shot of her from behind, kneeling on the ground with a hand to her face, but we don't see her face. That's... not normal! Most of the time when Anthy gets slapped in the early series, we get a shot of her afterwards with a bruise.

Here, we don't see her face. But we can see that she's shaking, and the first-watch assumption would be that she's crying, but... I'm not inclined to view it that way given everything that happens after.

The way I read it, Anthy is pissed.

The next time we see Saionji, he's face down in the water. How did he get there? We don't see. On a first viewing, one might just assume that's a negative reaction the arena has to being opened at an inappropriate time- along with all the crazy shit going on inside the arena once Utena gets there. But given Anthy is later shown to have more control over what the arena does than she lets on, and noticeably does her flashiest magic (the sword pull, the transformations) in or on her way to the arena, I think Anthy is behind almost all of that. And I'd say she's also behind the Saionji-almost-drowning bit. You guys might remember the half-joking drawing I made of Anthy, uh, dragging Saionji into the water by his hair, and while she might not have gotten as hands-on about it as that drawing suggests, I still think she's responsible.

So, like... why?

Why does this piss her off so much? I mean, sure, Saionji absolutely has it coming, but Anthy's been through worse. She clearly doesn't like Saionji and messes with him whenever possible, but to attempt murder and then set up an elaborate illusion designed to upset him as much as possible is... a little extreme. I don't think she even goes that far with Nanami, unless you consider the elephants to be legit murder attempts (which I do not- I think that was Anthy scaring Nanami, not trying to kill her, because I can't believe Nanami would survive that many encounters with elephants that actually wanted her dead).

I think the answer is that, for all the shit she takes from the duelists, Saionji is one of the only ones who breaks this many rules. Not only does he mistreat her when they're engaged- something she's used to, but that seems to be at least frowned upon, if not outlawed (given Touga felt the need to call a "stop hitting your girlfriend" meeting in episode 1)- he mistreats her afterwards. He refuses to let her go, he acts as if she still owes him something. And then he goes and pulls this. He kidnaps her, takes her to the arena without a duel scheduled, and tries to enter the arena- all things that are against the rules of this stupid game that Anthy, however much she knows it is a stupid game, lives her whole life around. And he tells her End of the World is responsible, which Anthy knows isn't true, because if Akio were planning something this batshit, she'd know about it! Of course she's angry, this goes well beyond the threshold of nonsense her job usually entails!

I don't know if she was aware of Touga's plan to play the hero for Utena and get Saionji expelled- if so, she obviously wasn't aware of all of it. The freakout on the way up to the arena is too intense for me to read it as anything but genuine. She's shaking with effort trying to stop Saionji from opening the gate. Things do fall perfectly into place for Touga to get between Saionji's sword and a defenseless Utena, but I honestly think Touga's plan may have been to just...

1) Impersonate End of the World and tell Saionji the castle is coming down, this will incentivize him to go up there and break the rules.

2) Tip Utena off that Saionji has kidnapped Anthy.

3) The castle doesn't come down, upsetting Saionji and heating up his inevitable confrontation with Utena enough that he tries to kill her and Touga can step in at the perfect moment.

4) Profit.

I don't think he knew Anthy was going to Do That. For one, the plan was to get Saionji expelled, not kill him- Anthy's stunt there could have ruined the entire plan if Utena hadn't dragged Saionji out of the water. And Touga is drinking the "Rose Bride doesn't have feelings" juice. Evidently, he doesn't put two and two together after this, because he's still beating that drum in episode eleven!

I don't think Akio knew much about this either. Touga is telling him about it over the phone, so Touga didn't tell him, and Anthy didn't know, so she couldn't have either. I think he probably got woken up in the middle of the night by all the chaos and had to dial Touga up after the fact to ask him what the fuck was going on.

#revolutionary girl utena #shoujo kakumei utena #rgu #sku #anthy himemiya #himemiya anthy #kyouichi saionji #saionji kyouichi #touga kiryuu #kiryuu touga #akio ohtori #ohtori akio #utena spoilers

[ja3yun]

The Sun That Always Burns | S.JY pt.5

sim jaeyun x afab!reader

warnings: smut(ish), mdni, cheating (i'm sorry), almost handjobs, heavy makeout, alcohol, serious longing, ynjake make stupid decisions, lmk if there is anything else.

wc: 4.7k+

synopsis: you and jake's high school relationship blossomed into a romance filled with hope and promise. However, as time went on, jake's long-term expectations began to weigh heavily on you, who struggled to meet them. your paths eventually lead you in separate directions, each experiencing different aspects of life and ultimately moving on from your past love. unexpectedly, fate intervened and you both reunite after years apart. the reunion allows you to rediscover your feelings for each other but also forces you to navigate the complexities of your past and present.

a/n: hey...hi...how we all doing. listen if you hate me after this chapter I get it </3. I did leave this on a cliffhanger but the next part is the finale! i love my little pookie yn she's trying her best she just can't handle her liquor (she's so real, so me). hope you all enjoy and see you for the finale next week!

masterlist

The shower hits off your skin as you finally have time to process everything that’s happened over the last few days; seeing Jaeyun again, coming to terms with his engagement, getting forgiveness from him, and his dad’s words. It’s a lot to process. The one thing you can’t seem to understand though is his and Yeoreum’s relationship. When you first arrived it was as if everything was sunshine and rainbows with the way she was talking. Her nonchalant way of saying he got over you quickly, how they’re soulmates, but that's not what his actions are saying and definitely not what they’re argument was eluding to. Your mind scrambles to piece it all together, like, maybe it’s different because you’re here and once the wedding is over and you leave they’ll go back to the way Yeoreum painted them. 

But he kissed your hand. He made all those CDs of your old mixtapes. He told you he loved you.

The warm droplets act as a blanket around you providing comfort and warmth as you run your fingers through your wet and soapy hair. Thinking about him just made more memories rise to the surface. How when you got stressed with exams he would make you take a shower with him and he would innocently wash your hair for you. His fingers would rub your scalp as if to ease the pain your brain was in from cramming so many topics in it at once. With his chest flushed against your back, he raked his hands through your hair and made sure he didn’t miss a bit. “I’m practicing. For when we’re old and brittle and have to look after each other.” He would say so casually. That was the thing about Jaeyun, he always made you feel like no matter what happened, his love for you was eternal.

You turn the shower off and step carefully onto the mat, but as a chap sounds from the door you jump and almost lose your balance. Gripping tightly onto the counter to steady yourself you curse under your breath and wrap a towel around your body. “Yes?”

“Y/N! Hurry up, we’re going out tonight.” Eunseo’s pretty voice travels through the door. After confirming it was her you open the door and look at her confused. “Me, you, Heeseung, Jake, and Yeoreum are going out. Like a joint bachelor-bachelorette thingy.” She claps excitedly. 

“Didn’t they already have their parties? You got really stressed when the inflatables you planned went to your elderly neighbour.” A chuckle leaves your lips as you recall the incident. The delivery of nonsensical blowup dicks and penis straws went to Mrs. Kim, a 87-year-old lady, who lives next door to Eunseo and she, unfortunately, opened it. Their relationship was never the same.

Eunseo scowls at the thought, “Please don’t remind me, she thinks I’m a sex pest or something now.” Her hand raised to stop you from saying any further as she carried on, “But this is just to let loose. After that walk and shit, I think they need it.” Nodding you agree and she smiles, “Then get ready! I’ve looked out your fit.” That could only mean one thing: you were going to be cold tonight.

After getting dressed you trail behind Eunseo you walk into the living room to find the rest waiting for you both which seems to be a theme this past week. Eunseo apologises like she always does and then hurries everyone as if she isn’t the reason the taxi fare is already up by £20. 

Heeseung puts his hand on the small of your back, leaning down to whisper, “You look so good. If there wasn’t a bro code…” he trails off and leaves it there with a cheeky smile. To be honest you felt hot, probably the hottest you have in any of your best friend’s clothes. She had looked out a black corset top with lacey detailing at the side, a white mini skirt with perfectly placed black bows on either side of your hips, and black thigh-high boots that were not the easiest to get on. This outfit called for your hair to be curled and eyeliner so sharp that it could open envelopes.

Nudging him you laugh and keep walking, “You couldn’t handle it.” You playfully sway your hips and Heeseung pretends to fall to his knees, a hand clutching his chest. When little moments like this happen, the world suddenly feels like it’s aligned. Like you had your old life back.

The taxi drive is short, and full of chatter and excitement. Yeoreum and Jaeyun seem to have made up, or at least enough to fake it for the journey, her laughter and his hand on her thigh being your indications. 

The club is busy, filled with people your age and younger just trying to get drunk. Thursdays are always the best day to go out; it’s cheaper and has a more student-based clientele than on a Saturday when creepy men in their 40s come out from the shadows. Eunseo flashes her signature smile and you guys are let in without any hesitation. You look at her skimpy outfit and think that might have helped the situation.

Music and heat hit you all at once and it’s overwhelming but in the best way possible. The musky smell of alcohol and smoke from the machines feels like a time machine back to your second year of college, a mixture of shame and fondness washing over you as you remember the many hook-ups and walks of shame you did.

Eunseo grabs your hand and raises it as she leads you to the bar to get the first of too many drinks tonight. She orders two double vodkas with lemonade and two baby guinnesses, they've become your favourites over the years. As the bartender goes to make them she turns to you, “Are you going to make your move on Heeseung tonight?” A loud sharp laugh leaves your mouth at her question, she really wasn’t letting this go.

“Eunseo, he isn’t my type I have told you this.” The shots come first and you clink it on the bar and shoot it down. “He’s hot but I’m not interested.”

“Those two sentences don’t go together, babe. And what’s one night? You’ve been with plenty of uglier men than him.” Her eyes are on Heeseung at the other side of the bar, buying drinks for him and the bride and groom. 

“I don’t know,” You desperately try to come up with an excuse as to why you won’t fuck him. It’s a boundary you can’t cross but if you tell her that you need to tell her about you and Jaeyun’s history. Your drinks are now in front of you both and you use that as the perfect excuse, “Come on, let’s dance.”

One hand holding your drink and the other holding Eunseo’s hand you lead her to a spot and start to move your hips to the music, letting all the tension you’ve felt go. A genuine smile creeps on your face and you down your drink. And another. And another.

Shots. Doubles. Test tubes. Cocktails. You’re surprised you’re still standing. 

The lights are blurred as you laugh at nothing, jumping around and splashing your drink on innocent bystanders along the way. Eunseo is off finding herself a suitor for the night so it leaves you on your own for a while. That is until familiar hands make their way to your hips and hold you still. 

Your head slowly turns around, scared that if you go too fast you might vomit. A concerned look from Jaeyun is what you are met with as he speaks to you but with the music and your drunkenness you can’t hear him, instead, you wrap your arms around his neck and giggle like you’re in high school again after seeing his face. “Jaeyun.” His name comes out with a laugh, “Come to dance with me?” Your head tilts, your eyes shut, and your mouth pouts. 

“Y/N, come on sit down with us.” His head nods to the booth his fiance and best man are sitting at, their eyes on you both. Sober you would agree and keep your distance, but drunk you is in charge and you know fine well how that goes. She doesn’t make your life that easy.

“Baby” you whine, “One dance? Pretty please?” Your bottom lip hides your top one and Jaeyun almost falls to his knees. You’re so cute like this he could eat you up, or eat you out if he was in different circumstances. His eyes dart to Heeseung in a pleading manner and he seems to catch the gist, pulling Yeoreum to the bar for another drink. 

Jaeyun gives in. “One dance, and then you’re sitting down.” His hands gently squeeze your hips like he used to when he was warning you. 

“On your lap?” A smirk slips onto your face and your free hand plays with his hair.

Jaeyun blows out air and looks up to the ceiling, trying to calm himself down. “No, Y/N.” He speaks to the sky before finding the courage to speak directly at you again, “On a seat.”

You were making this so difficult for him, if it wasn’t your outfit it was the reckless way you were behaving as if his fiance wasn’t just meters away. The skirt that was already short was now basically halfway up your ass and his hands longed to be placed there. You’re the bain of his existence and all his morals in this moment.

You bring your hands back to your chest, clutching the drink and downing it before throwing the plastic away and reaching up, doing some sort of dancing but to Jaeyun it’s more like one of those animal mating calls. You’re calling him to you and he’s seconds away from answering. His hands let go of your waist and hover over your arm, “Come on, let’s go sit dow-” 

“You promised one dance and I have yet to see you dance Mr. Sim.” Your words slur but the tone is authoritative yet playful. Awkwardly, he grants your wish and dances with you, aware of where is appropriate to touch and what’s not but when you grab his hands to place them on your ass he squeezes impulsively, bringing you closer to him. “That’s it.” You say so innocently but it has his two heads fuzzy with need. 

“Princess, we can’t dance like this.” Despite his words his hands never leave your backside. Here comes that pout again decorating your face and your eyes twinkle.

“But I’ve been a good girl.” 

Oh fuck. 

Jaeyun growls and squeezes your plump cheeks, the action pressing his cock against your lower abdomen. You jump a little asking for him to pick you up like you used to do and his mind is so overcome with desire for you his hands slide to the back of your thighs and hoist you up. Smiling proudly you look down at him, now slightly taller from the height he’s holding you, you lean into his neck and brush your glossy lips over his sensitive spot. Even after all these years and with more alcohol in your system than an aunt at Christmas you’re still aware of Jaeyun’s likes and wants. 

Jaeyun carries you to the back of the club which was basically in pure darkness, the only light coming from the emergency exit sign and a passing strobe light. Every sensible fiber of his being is lost, the only coherent thought he has is to listen to his heart calling out for you.

He perches you up on the thin bar that’s screwed into the wall, the metal cold against your skin but at this moment you couldn’t care less. Your lips are now on his neck, kissing your way down to his shoulder and his chest rumbles with a moan. “Princess I’ve missed you so much.” His hands hold you steady, thumb rubbing against the lace on your corset. 

“Missed you more.” You puff out, eyes locking onto his. “I love you”. The phrase slips out of your mouth purposefully for the first time in 4 years and Jaeyun’s eyes flash with something, something electric and his mouth is on yours quicker than lightning. His lips that you’ve craved finally find their way back home to you. “I love you so much.” You whisper, your lips always connected. 

Grabbing his t-shirt you pull him in closer, scared that if you loosen your grip he’ll be gone forever. He feels your desperate touch and his tongue swipes against your bottom lip as he grinds his hips into your core. He uses your moaning as a gateway into your mouth, his tongue exploring around and coming into contact with your soft kitten licks. Just as before, a growl leaves him, kissing you so passionately and deeply. “Love you so fucking much, baby.” 

His words fuel you to lose all sense of control and your hands slide down his torso to his jeans, pawing over his concealed cock. You missed Jaeyun more than anything, and god did you miss his dick and how it was tailor-made just for you. 

As your hands slip into his jeans he stops kissing you and looks at you deep into your soul, begging for it, and then he really looks at you. You’re drunk, eyes glazed, you might not remember this, or worse, regret it. He's also doing the one thing he promised never to do to any woman. Cheat. His heart stops as he comes to terms with what he has to do.

“Princess, we can’t.” Reluctantly he grabs your arm and pulls it, the warmth of your palm gone, leaving his cock twitching and aching for you. You’re confused, looking between your hand and his face.

“Did I do something wrong?” The innocent question paired with your bambi eyes almost has him saying no and letting this continue but he shakes his head and holds your hand in his.

“Never. You’re such a good girl, yeah?” You smile and go to touch him again but he grabs your face with his hands, the action stopping you. “We just can’t.” You whisper a small ‘why?’ almost inaudible, “Because, baby, you’re drunk and this is complicated. I want you so much, please don’t think I don’t.” He assures you as he sees the tears fill your eyes. His lips kiss yours again and he’s playing with fire but if tomorrow you sober up and don’t speak to him again, he has to have one last kiss.

He picks you up and places you down so your feet are on the sticky club ground. “Let’s get you back to the house, okay Princess?” He whispers and turns around but your small hand is suddenly on his cheek, guiding it to face you. “What is it, love?” his hand lays over yours as he melts into your touch.

“Please don’t marry her.”

____________

A dull pain spreads across your forehead as the sun infiltrates the room rudely awakening you. There is a taste in your mouth but you can’t quite place it, it’s strange yet familiar. You don’t remember much, and what you do remember is blurry and without a timeline. There were shots, vodkas, and dancing, these are the only memories you have.

Looking around the room with squinted eyes you try to adjust to the light, it’s warm and you’re sweating which makes you feel disgusting and sticky. A groan leaves your lips and that’s when Eunseo turns to you, the first time you’ve noticed her since your sleep was disturbed. Her face is stern as her body swivels in the chair to face you.

“Good night?” She says bitterly. Oh, you’ve definitely done something wrong. Quick, think about everything, shots, too many more shots, dancing, a dark room? You shake your head to align your thoughts but nothing is coming. Eunseo scoffs and strides over to your bed, sitting down on the end of the bed. “You really don’t remember?” Her tone is accusatory with a glint of sass. Now you really had to think about what she was referring to. 

“Um, I remember you going to hook up with that tall guy with the pretty lips?” Maybe you could get her to speak about that instead of whatever awful thing you had done.

Your heart was pounding in your chest as the hangxiety kicked in tenfold. “Think harder.” She demands, her whole body now facing you with her legs tucked under her, “When I was hooking up with the hottie?” 

Think.

“I-” You had no answer for her, maybe after a couple of paracetamol and some coffee you could then hazard a guess but for now it was a distant memory buried under the alcohol that is admittedly still in your veins. “Eunseo what did I do?”

The question causes silence and the room has tension so thick not even a knife could slice through it. “Are you really sure you don’t remember?” She’s mad. Really mad.

Okay, so you got to the bar, had drinks, got drunk, danced with people, kissed Jaeyun, got in a tax-

Kissed Jaeyun.

That’s the taste in your mouth. It’s him. Dancing with him, kissing him, touching him, craving every inch of him, and Eunseo knows. She saw it. 

Your rapid heartbeat is going so fast you think it’s stopped. Your face shifts from confusion to guilt and shock. “See! Now you remember! Please explain yourself.” You couldn’t. There was no excuse to be said without blurting out every detail of your life and more importantly, your life with Jaeyun. 

Stuttering you look around wondering if there is any way to escape this conversation, maybe a secret passage that you can teleport from. Unfortunately for you, there wasn’t a way out. You had made your bed so now you have to lay in it. “Eunseo I-”

“No you know what, let me speak.” She stands up and clasps her hands together, “I can forgive you, just tell me you were so drunk you thought it was someone else, please.”

“It’s more complicated-” She cut you off again.

“I know he’s hot, okay? But to kiss my sister’s fiance like that, you don’t have any shame huh?” Her tone is spiteful as she spits at you trying to wrack up any rationality that you can muster.

“Eunseo please just listen to me.” I stand up and reach for her but she pulls away. Her demeanor is standoffish as she places her left hand on her hip. “It’s so much more than you think.”

“Oh, what? It was love at first sight? You thought it was Heeseung? Taking advantage of the fact they’re fighting?” A step forward from her has you stepping back, “Fucking tell me, Y/N because I am struggling deeply here.” 

“He’s my ex.” 

Her body stills, her hands laid flat in front of her as she processes your words. “Not your ex that…” she trails off thinking, her eyes following an invisible pattern on the ceiling as she tries to work it out, “Not that ex you spoke about? Surely not?”

Every inch of you wants to pretend it isn’t. Pretend that it's another fling and it means nothing to you but as you stare into your best friend's eyes you realise you can’t lie to her, not anymore.

“That ex.” You breathe out and sit down. “Eunseo, please hear me out.”

The thing about Eunseo is that she has always been understanding but as her gaze burns into yours you wonder if she’ll be so kind. Her weight sits next to you as she sighs and it’s your opportunity to speak. “When you invited me, I didn’t know. I didn’t know Jaeyun would walk in beside Yeoreum.” Your voice is pleading with her to believe you but her face remains the same so you continue, “I was so drunk last night I think instincts kicked in. I shouldn’t have kissed him.”

She scoffs, “What was your plan, hm? Did you see him and go ‘oh yeah I’ll get him back easy’”

“Never. It has never been on my radar. It was the drink. I-”

Eunseo interrupts you by sticking her hand in your face, “You still love him, don’t you?” You can’t even look at her, just the swirling mix of her words and the memory of Yeoreum during her argument with Jaeyun swirling in your mind. 

You nod, “Listen, I am not trying to break them up, me and Jaeyun haven’t spoken much. We’ve reconciled and that’s about it.” It wasn’t completely a lie, you wouldn’t tell her about the whispered I love you he shared when you saw him on the first night, or the mixtapes and handholding, she didn’t have to know. “I’m not breaking up this marriage.”

“Wow, so kind of you,” Eunseo scoffs, “Listen, I love you but I need you out of here.” Her tone is less venomous but still pointed. “Your relationship with him, from what Yeoreum has told me about his ex, isn’t simple. It’s deep. It’s dangerous to my sister’s happiness, and she will always be my priority.” Your best friend’s face is hard yet holds a fondness in it.

“I understand that, I wanted to leave earlier I just didn’t know when the right time was.”

“Now.” She stands up and crosses her arms as she faces you, “Now is the right time, Y/N. The longer you’re here the longer I have to worry about Yeoreum being left at the alter.”

“Eunseo he won’t-”

“Of course he fucking will, Y/N. He would leave my sister for you. That has been made perfectly clear.”

Wait. The argument Mr. Sim tore you away from, that’s what she was meaning. “What are you talking about?” You feign ignorance hoping she knows more than you do which seemingly it does. “What did he say?”

“He said enough. Look, Y/N,” She pinches her eyebrows, “I love you, and I know deep within me this isn’t your fault but please, go home. For me. For Yeoreum.”

You suck in your bottom lip to stop you from crying. If you lose Eunseo you’ll be right back to where you used to be, alone because of your own stupid mistakes. You rub your hands on your thigh and breathe out slowly, gathering your thoughts and calculating your next moves. There is animosity and hurt in the air and it breaks you. “Eunseo I-”

“I know, Y/N. But please. Don’t take Jake away from my sister.”

“What Jaeyun and I had, it’s so…” Pausing you stand and look at her, “It’s so difficult to explain. I don’t need you to forgive me, but please don’t tell anyone.” Your voice is above a whisper as you plead with her, “If you’re the only one who knows please keep it that way. He loves your sister and he is so happy. That is all I’ve ever wanted.” 

A sorrow flashes over Eunseo’s face as you sob. No one in this world will understand the love between you and Jaeyun, not until they’ve experienced it themselves. You make your way around the room and gather your things, ready to leave him once again.

____

Unbeknownst to you, two doors down Heeseung and Jaeyun are having a similar conversation. You seem to be the topic of conversation the day before the wedding, just like Heeseung had warned you of. 

Jaeyun is sitting on the bed Yeoreum refused to sleep in last night, his eyes tired as he tells Heeseung the details of what transpired last night. “She asked me not to marry Reum.” He breathes out slowly. 

Heeseung’s body turns slowly, his eyes wide and head at a slant. His flabber has been gasted and as he looks at his best friend’s sullen look he only has one question. “And?”

“What do you mean ‘and’?” Jaeyun’s voice is defensive like the answer should be obvious, but really he just wants to use this chance so Heeseung will tell him what to do. He loves you so much so that as soon as you asked him not to marry Yeoreum he almost instantly broke the wedding off. But he’s not that cruel, he knows there are too many people that will be hurt. If he really was going to call off this wedding he had to do it as respectfully as possible. 

But did he even want to call off the wedding? Yeoreum needed him. 

“I mean 'and' are you going to cancel the wedding?” Heeseung’s words prevent Jaeyun from answering internally. “Yeoreum isn’t exactly speaking with you right now, she was putting on a brave face in the club but look,” he gestures to the still-made bed, “She can’t even sleep in the same room as you. And you literally can’t see anything but Y/N when she’s around. I don't know what you said when you argued with her but it must have been bad.”

“I’m fucked, Hee.” Jaeyun plants his face into his hands and rubs vigorously into his eyes, trying to shake up his brain to make sense of it all. “Reum asked me yesterday after the walk if I would leave her for my ex.” 

The sentence piqued Heeseung’s interest once again, and he wondered what his friend would have confessed. He doesn’t say a word, opting to slowly sit next to Jaeyun. “I-” Jaeyun starts to speak again, “I told her...” The pause is a cause of concern and Heeseung leans forward to try and make eye contact with Jaeyun.

“Jake do NOT tell me you told her you’d leave her high and dry for Y/N?” Heeseung’s hands are gripped to his knees as he holds his breath. The stillness and lack of response were enough of an indication of what happened for Heeseung to shut his eyes and sigh, “What the fuck are you thinking? That’s cold, mate.”

“I don’t fucking know, Hee. I love Yeoreum, she helped me over the past few years to finally get back to a state where I felt like part of myself again-”

“Do you love her?” Looking straight into Jaeyun’s eyes, Heeseung asks a question that has been on his mind since the moment he found out Jaeyun proposed. “Answer me this honestly, did you propose to her because you thought it would help you move on from Y/N? Or because you genuinely love her?”

Their eyes are communicating silently. That wasn’t true, he really loved Yeoreum and he wanted to marry her because they were in love, not because it felt like a fast-track way to get over you. Right? Jaeyun thinks hard.

“Let me tell you what I think.” The oldest speaks up again, “I think you asked her to marry you because you thought settling with her would make you forget about Y/N.” Jaeyun’s face scrunched up, confused by his best friend’s words. 

“That’s no-”

“Answer me honestly, Jake.” Heeseung is trying his best to let Jaeyun see the truth, to finally put some sense into him. Jaeyun knows there has always been tension between his fiance and best friend, ever since they met it was like there was a wall between them no matter how many times Jaeyun tried to get them closer. But despite his quibble with Yeoreum, Heeseung wouldn’t say this for anything. And it’s not the first time he’s heard it either. 

“You know I’ll support you, but you need to think about this. Think out what you truly want.”

He recalls a conversation he and his dad had with him a few weeks after he announced he was engaged.

“Son, this is pretty fast. Are you sure?” His dad kept a stoic expression and his tone of voice was stale. Jaeyun simply nodded and smiled before telling him ‘It’s what makes sense.’. With that, his dad heaved out a breath, “But is it what you want?”

“Of course it is!” Jaeyun’s voice was raised, “You don’t think I want to marry her? Why would I propose if I didn’t?” A knowing look from his father shut him up almost instantly.

“Jaeyun, listen to me seriously, marriage isn’t going to help you get over Y/N.” Jaeyun stands up. “Dad, I am over her.”

His dad shakes him by the shoulders, “You will never be over Y/N. And that’s okay, but that means this marriage to Yeoreum won’t make you forget, won’t help you the way you think it will. Seriously consider my words before this gets out of control.”

Heeseung waits for him to process his words, staying silent to give him time. He wanted nothing more than his best friend’s happiness. If you asked him a week ago, he would never have said anything, let Jaeyun go through with the marriage because at least he is somewhat content, finally living his life without you. But now that you’re back and he sees how obviously you and Jaeyun still crave one another, he needs Jaeyun to seriously think about tomorrow. 

“Heeseung,” His breath catches in his throat before he utters the next words, “I need her.”

#aj writes #enha smut #enhypen smut #jake smut #jake sim smut #jake x reader #enhypen x reader #enha x reader #the next chapter is... #you're either gonna love it or hate it besties

[slaybestieslay946]

can i request luke trying to get dionysus reader who’s close with their dad to join him and kronos? :3

thanks for your request! This one was kinda short coz i just focused on the scene where he tried to convince her, so i hoped i added enough like stuff about reader being close with her dad for your liking!

Betrayal

word count: 1100

pairing: luke castellan x dionysus!reader

warnings: angst! not a cute happy ending

MASTERLIST

You were woken up from your peaceful night's sleep by Annabeth Chase, standing by your bunk and shaking you quickly awake. 

“You need to come with me.” She said sharply, her voice urgent. 

“Wha- Annabeth? What are you doing here? What’s going on?” You asked, immediately concerned. 

“There’s no time to explain right now, you just have to come with me.” 

Of course, you trusted her implicitly. She was the little sister of your boyfriend, after all. And so, you immediately threw your cargo pants and camp t-shirt on, and followed her out of the Dionysus cabin. 

It was only as she began to lead you into the forest at the edge of camp that you began to wonder what she had called you out for. Annabeth was smart, and no-nonsense, so you couldn’t imagine that it was some kind of dumb prank. And she seemed pretty on edge, her breathing and walking pace both faster than usual. 

It could be something to do with Luke. He could be in trouble. 

No, it couldn’t be. He could handle himself perfectly fine on his own, he was the best swordsman in 500 years. No, it must be something else. 

You decided to probe her a bit further, “Annabeth?” You called softly. 

“Yes?” She answered quickly, not halting her progress into the woods. 

“If somethings wrong I can always wake up D, y’know? I know he can be kinda belligerent, but you won’t get in any trouble, I promise.” You bargained, hoping that if she was worried about getting told off, you wouldn’t get her back up. 

And it was true, as much as your father was seen as kind of a scary asshole to the average camper, you knew him better than anyone, and the truth that he was honestly a good person. Probably the best of the Olympian parents. 

After all, he had taken care of you your whole life, ever since you were dropped off here by your mother at the ripe age of 5. He was a lot more caring than most would normally expect. 

“No.” She snapped, her voice anxious, “We can’t get him involved, not right now. Just come with me, ok? And stay quiet.” 

You didn’t press her any further after that, staying silent for the remaining duration of your walk.  

Soon, you began to hear voices coming from deeper in the forest, and then, the talking ceased, and all you could hear was the louder clashing of swords. 

Annabeth grabbed hold of your hand to lead you closer, before donning her invisibility cap. You followed where she led you, a sinking feeling in your stomach growing more and more painful with each step you took. 

And it all came to a head when Annabeth brought you to the edge of a clearing, where Luke and Percy were engaged in a not-so-friendly looking ‘spar’. 

“What’s going on?” You whispered, although you weren’t sure who to.

“Luke, he’s…” She trailed off slightly. 

“He’s what.” You asked, your voice suddenly cold. 

“He stole the master bolt. He’s working with Kronos to overthrow the gods” She said, and her words were like an icy bucket of water being poured over your head. 

“You’re joking.” You said, a strained laugh coming from your throat. 

Annabeth didn’t reply. She was serious. 

And suddenly his strange behaviours over the past few months made perfect sense. He’d been so secretive, so calculated. Like he had to carefully think out every word he said to you. 

You whipped your head back to the two teenagers, and you were unable to stop yourself from dashing forward as you watched your boyfriend aim a particularly harsh blow at the 12 year old child. 

“Luke! What the fucks going on?!” You yelled, your face contorted in a mixture of confusion, anger, and hope. Hope that you and Annabeth had misinterpreted everything. 

But as Luke turned around to face you, his face torn with guilt, you knew she hadn’t. The daughter of Athena was right yet again. 

“What are you doing here?” He breathed out, partly from the physical exertion of the fight, but you could tell he was also affected by seeing you here. 

“You know why I’m here. Tell me it’s not true. Please, Luke.” 

He hesitated for a moment, before beginning to try and plead with you, “Sweetheart, I’m sorry, just let me explain-”

“Explain?! There’s no explanation for this! You’ve betrayed us Luke, you’ve betrayed me.”

He paused again, seemingly stunned by your reaction, your willingness to condemn him.

“I would never betray you. I love you, you know that. The gods are the ones who betray us. I’m fixing things, returning things back to the way they should be. Don’t you want to be a part of that?”

You gaped at him in complete and utter shock, “D is the only one who has never betrayed me. And I know he’s one of the few godly parents who gives a shit, and I know the rest of them treat us like shit, but that doesn’t mean whatever you're doing is right!” 

His face fell, and it was like he realised appealing to your logic hadn’t worked, so he tried your emotions. 

“You said you’d follow me to the ends of the earth? What happened to that, huh? I thought you loved me?” Luke’s voice was strained, taut with emotion like he was trying not to cry. 

“I didn’t think that would have to include following you into tartarus to resurrect a titan lord. And I do love you, but that doesn’t mean I agree with what you’re doing!” 

“C’mon, we can talk about this. Just come with me, I can explain everything, you’ll understand if you just come with me and let me explain.” He pleaded, taking a few steps towards you. 

You stepped back away from him, “No. I’m not going with you.” You said, trying to make your voice sound firm, but you were well aware of the way it wobbled slightly as you spoke. 

He turned back to Percy, who was still lying on the ground watching the exchange, “Last chance, Jackson. Last chance.” 

The 12-year old shook his head, his face harsh and cold against the boy he had once called a friend. 

And then Luke was looking at you again, as if trying to memorise your face, before rushing towards a portal Backbiter had created for him. 

Then he was gone. One of the few people you never thought would betray you was gone, never to return. 

#fanfic #luke castellan x reader #percy jackson #writing #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo #luke castellan #x reader #ask #angst #sad ending

[flashdyke]

A BDSM fan says, “We care a lot about consent and preventing sexual abuse”. I say, “How do you manage that as a community that reenacts real or imagined sexual abuse?” They say, “We care a lot about consent and preventing sexual abuse”.

I say, “How will you manage safety and wellbeing in a sexual practice that requires a participant who enjoys the thought of hurting others?” They say, “The one receiving that violent behaviour is actually in control. All of that only happens because she asks for it.” I say, “The idea that the person on the receiving end of sexually violent behaviour asked for it and actually controls the situation is both nonsensical and victim-blaming. She might say to stop at any time, but the point of this sexual practice is that she’s not in a position to enforce her needs at all and is reliant upon the cooperation of a person who’s there specifically because he wants to hurt her. How is safety and wellbeing ensured here?” They say, “We care a lot about consent and preventing sexual abuse”.

I say, “Consent is not about what was said at a time separate to the actual sex; it’s something that must be affirmed throughout, and must be freely withdrawn at any point. This is not possible if someone is not able to move or speak and knows that natural expressions of distress will only further arouse her ‘partner’. This renders “consensual non-consent” a pointless concept because the removal of consent obviously cannot remain consensual, before considering whether or not someone who wants to be a rapist will pay attention to whatever alternative system has been suggested.” They say, “We have workshops about what consent is. You should never engage in BDSM with someone you haven’t checked will respect you.” I say, “Rapists don’t do what they do because either they or their victims don’t know better. The idea that BDSM rape happens because the victim did not vet well enough to tell apart the man who really wants to be a rapist from the man who just wants to imagine he’s a rapist minimises rape as a kind of malpractice rather than intentional violation, places blame on the victim for having “chosen” her rapist, and incorrectly implies there’s a meaningful difference between wanting to be a rapist and wanting to feel like a rapist by having the same control as a rapist over a woman who responds as though he’s raping her.” They say, “We care a lot about consent and preventing sexual abuse”.

[acapelladitty]

coup de foudre

Pairing: Riddler/Reader (& Scarecrow)

Summary: Drinking in the Iceberg Lounge, Edward and Jonathan set their sights on an unsuspecting woman and decide to engage in a 'friendly' competition to win her affections. (2.8k words)

“You’re annoying me.”

Blinking his surprise at the unexpected comment, Edward tilted his head back to the booth as he fixed Jonathan with a questioning stare.

“You say that so often that those words have lost meaning, Crane.”

Visibly irritated, Jonathan Crane knit his brow as he followed Edward’s earlier gaze, his sharp eyes sweeping across the Iceberg Lounge.

“I have asked you the same question twice now and twice you have ignored me. So now I want to see what has captured your interest so much that you would risk missing information.”

Jonathan’s eyes settled on the few patrons who sought refuge at the high stools of the bar.

A young couple, their hands disgustingly wrapped up in each other as they giggled at something asinine.

An older goon, his unflinching dedication to his ongoing alcoholism making him a familiar sight at the bar as he worked part-time security for Oswald in exchange for a discount on certain liquors.

A brunette woman, her shapely legs tilted to the side as she carefully adjusted the dark skirt which lay tight against her thighs-

“Ah.” Jonathan tutted. “Nygma, you pathetic beast.”

“What nonsense has captured your meagre brain now?”

“Is your attention so fleeting that you would ignore a known killer in favour of making eyes at some pretty little thing sitting at a bar herself?”

It was Edward’s turn to scowl, and he did so with open contempt, his coiffed hair jiggling in place as he turned sharply to look at the woman again.

“Some of us enjoy the company of others, Crane. We aren’t so closed off the concept of human pleasure and connection.”

“So you want to fuck her?” Pairing his vulgarity with a swig of his whisky, Jonathan took sadistic pleasure in the slight hint of surprise which crept into Edward’s features. “She’s pretty. Are you so pathetic that you’re afraid of rejection?”

“Rejection? No. But experience has taught me to take care when sniffing around the types of women who frequent this lounge. There have been,” Edward paused, “situations.”

His interest piqued; Jonathan tapped the table in impatience as he awaited a further explanation.

“Some expected payment after the act. One had a husband return home early and spoil the arrangement. One even pulled a gun on me and stole my wallet.”

Jonathan barely hid his derisive snort. “How is Selina getting on this holiday period?”

“Hilarious.” Edward tasted his gin with downturned lips. “We both know she doesn’t need a gun to take a wallet from a man.”

“Brown hair. Blue eyes. Attractive. Very unlike yourself.” Listing off the unknown woman’s qualities, Jonathan could see the appeal. Her short dark skirt was paired with a deep blue shirt – the material very satin-like as the breeze of passing patrons made it shift across her back. Sensing an opportunity for cruelty, Jonathan adjusted the wire-rimmed glasses which sat atop his nose and smoothed the wilder edges of his hair before quickly standing to his feet. “If you are too much of a coward to move then perhaps I should show the lady a good time.”

Striding towards the bar with purpose, Jonathan blatantly ignored the irritated call of his name from the now-incensed Edward as he slammed an open palm on the booth table.

x-x-x-x-x

With the music fading as the hired band set up for a new song, the cocktail within your hand felt comfortably chilled as you bring it to your lips and take a long sip. The Iceberg Lounge. Not a usual haunt which you found yourself in but the weeknight specials had proven too tempting to ignore – reputation of the establishment be damned.

Your shirt felt nice against your skin, providing a good barrier to the chill of the lounge and its ice theme. Three cocktails in with very little plan on stopping, the idea of enjoying the atmosphere and maybe scoring a quick takeaway on the path home was appealing enough to make a soft sigh slip free of your lips.

A presence to your side makes you turn in place, and you find the barstool next to your own filled by an incredibly tall man, his profile showcasing his sharp chin and large nose as he caught the eye of the barman.

“Whisky. Top shelf. Three fingers.” A set of instructions which were quickly followed as he soon found himself with a tumbler glass full of amber liquid being pressed into his thin hands.

Wearing a brown suit, the colour feeling a little dated as it were paired with a lighter brown shirt, the man seemed quite comfortable as he took the drink and quickly inhaled a sip, clearly allowing the liquor to sit in his mouth for a moment before swallowing.

“Good evening.”

Startled, your eyes widen as you realise that the man is speaking to you directly – his head having turned to showcase wire-rimmed glasses that did nothing to hide a crystal blue gaze which sparks a shiver low in your spine.

“Hi.”

“It’s nice in here, isn’t it.”

Blushing at the attention, you find yourself pressing your legs together as you turn your body to meet your new friend.

“Seems nice enough, Mr?”

“Call me Jonathan.” His expression is warm, inviting in a very particular way even as you get the feeling that this is a man who is used to getting what he wanted from those around him.

“Hi, Jonathan.” You incline your glass to him as you adjust the simple silver bracelet which hangs around your wrist. “What brings you here on a weeknight?”

“I’m a professor by trade and the last batch of essays that I received have pushed me to drink.” Jonathan answers in a deadpan tone.

Laughing at the answer, your eyes dip low before travelling up his frame as they admire just how tall he is.

“A professor! Wow! Of?”

“Psychology.”

“Oh, interesting!” Perking up at that information, you allow the alcohol in your system to do the speaking. “Can you tell me something about myself that you already know?”

His gaze once again rolls across your face and you giggle despite yourself.

“I can tell you’re a woman who isn’t afraid to drink by herself in a bar full of monsters and criminals.”

“Jon!” A second voice joined your conversation as another man approached from behind Jonathan’s back, his hand clapping on his thin shoulder for a moment as a wide grin split his lips. “I was hoping to catch you here! I got a message from your wife last night asking for me to remind you that her alimony is due and that the kids aren’t happy that you stiffed them this weekend for your court-ordered visits. Again.”

Dropping into the available stool to your right, the red-haired man continued to speak but this time in a much more hushed tone as he leaned across your space while keeping a sensible difference.

“She’s a hellcat that one! Pamela doesn’t mince her words! I won’t repeat what she said in the presence of such a lovely lady,” he paused to flash you a small smile, “but I think you’d better toddle off and give her a ring before she comes down here herself to drag your wallet from your spindly fingers.”

Turning back to Jonathan as an unease settles in your gut, your eyes widen in surprise once again as his previously warm expression is gone – utterly eviscerated by the hard lines and scowl which now decorate his features.

“Edward-”

“Come on, pal.” Edward, the new man, continued. “I would head off and sort out your mess before something awful happens.”

To your surprise, Jonathan stands and does exactly that, not bothering to spare you another glance as he stalks away from the bar and settles in a booth far off to the side where he almost disappears into the shadows.

“Nice guy,” Edward mutters, “but far too loose with his morals. A bit too fond of the drink and the ladies. A real shame.”

Feeling a little humiliated that you had been so easily taken in by such a womaniser, your elbows settle on the bar as you take another long drink from your glass, the gin cocktail warming your stomach from the inside out as you feel increasingly more tipsy.

“Any good?” Edward asks, pointing to your glass.

“Hmm? Oh. Yeah. It’s fine enough. A bit expensive mind.”

“I’m not surprised. I know the man who owns the place and he’s not one for allowing even a dime to slip through his fingers.”

“You know the Penguin?”

“I work as a consultant for certain engineering projects and Mr Cobblepot has used me in that role a few times.”

“What’s he like?” Curiosity itching at your tipsy mind, you turn to face Edward as you ask the question.

“Oh, he’s a very complicated man. It would be hard to describe him in a sentence.”

“Then use more than one.”

It’s a cheeky response and it gets a smile from him, his pearly white teeth appearing almost blindingly white in the dimness of the bar.

“Then let me buy you a drink and I will try, what’s your poison?”

“French 75.” Swirling the dregs of your cocktail around the glass, the cloudy liquid swirls away prettily.

“Barkeep, a lovely French 75 for the even lovelier lady.”

x-x-x-x-x

Giggling as your messy fingers struggled to flick on the light to the supply closet, the click of the switch matched the slam of the closing of the door as Edward kicked it shut behind him. Having stumbled down the corridor as Edward guided you loosely with his hands on your shoulders, you had managed to make it past the staff without being seen as you sought out a more private space.

“I don’t normally do this.” You pant, back pressing against the shelves of extra napkins and tablecloths. “I hope you don’t think the worst of me.”

His red hair almost glowing under the lightbulb which shoddily lit the small space, Edward quirked a brow at your insistence but said nothing as he took a step towards you. The deep green suit which wrapped around his frame seemed much darker in the dimness and butterflies fluttered around your stomach as he dipped his head to catch your lips in his own.

It was a filthy kiss; his tongue immediately demanding entrance into your mouth as his firm hands dug themselves into your hips, holding you in place as he pressed his body against your own. Allowing him to lead, you bring your hands to his chest, playfully undoing his dark tie and dropping it to the floor before ruching your skirt up slightly to allow his knee to plant itself between your legs.

“Did you think you would end up here?” Edward spoke finally, his showman voice having deepened to something approaching a growl. “Being fucked in a supply closet by a man your barely know?”

“Think?” You gasp out as his hands slip down from your hips to hike your skirt up fully, exposing your black cotton panties to his wandering fingers. “No. But i’m an optimist.”

“You have a smart mouth.” Edward muses, emerald eyes flashing as he swipes his thumb along your lower lip. “Maybe it would be better suited elsewhere.”

Following his lead as his fingers deftly unzip his slacks, he quickly frees his half-hard cock as you drop to your knees – carefully avoiding a nearby mop – and quickly take his cock in hand. You can see the faintest hint of his pubes peeking free of the zipper and an absurd bubble of laughter touches at your throat as you take in their reddish appearance.

A true redhead then.

His cock feels velvety and hot in your hand as you pump along the length for a moment. He was a decent length, nothing unmanageable, and a rumble of pleasure rolls through him as you take the tip of his cock into your mouth – teasing the end with your tongue. Moaning at the slight taste of pre-cum, you suck gently at his cockhead and admire the way in which he jerks his hips forward in an attempt to sink more of his length past your lips.

“Christ.” He grunts and you glance up to see his gaze fixed on your expression. You can see yourself in his eyes, on your knees before him as you willingly suck him off and a flash of arousal curls low in your gut and the dampness of your panties makes your thighs press together.

You work his cock over for a minute, alternating between using your hands and your mouth until he is rock hard and visibly leaking pre-cum.

“Are you going to fuck me now?” You ask, batting your eyelashes up at him as you watch a small bead of sweat trail across his forehead.

“I think you deserve a reward.” He concedes and a short squeal slips free of you as his strong hands grip at your shoulders and pull you up to face him once again. His gaze is clouded by lust and you both grunt as he whirls you in place and rubs himself against your back. “Such pretty girls are never usually this good. Will you be a good girl for me?”

Nodding as a blush crawls across your cheeks and down your neck, the slight praise makes your breath quicken and you spread your knees to allow him to slip your panties free of your ass.

His fingers immediately go to work and you muffle a cry in your forearm as a firm finger trails along your slit, gathering the dampness there before spreading it playfully across your upper thigh. Pleased with how wet you were, his cockhead is quick to follow the finger as it bumps messily against your slit – swiping across your cunt and causing a bolt of pleasure to roll through your groin as it brushes your clit.

“Fuck me, Edward.” You groan out, pressing back against him as you tighten your grip of the shelf. “Please?”

“Such a good girl.” Edward purrs, wrapping his free hand around your body as his fingers come to rest atop your clothed chest – his fingers squeezing at your tit gently as he rolled his hips against your ass. With a quick thrust, he buried himself with you and the sudden discomforting stretch paired with the pleasure of finally having your neglected cunt filled makes your breath catch in your throat.

He immediately sets a quick pace, thrusting himself in such a way that his cock brushed that delightful spot within your walls that sent sparks flying up your spine with every stroke. Pressed against your back, he never pulled himself free, instead preferring to keep at least his tip buried in your cunt as he rutted against you like an animal. It was intense and it was hot, and the little grunting breaths which met every roll of his hips filled the air just as quickly as the scent of sex and sweat.

“I haven’t been fucked like this in a long time.” You gasp out between thrusts, your scrambling fingers laying atop his as he continued to squeeze at your chest through your silk shirt. “I’m glad you frightened off that other guy if this is the reward I get for making a good choice.”

x-x-x-x-x

Sitting at his original booth with a blank expression, Jonathan had watched with vague amusement as Edward wheedled his way into the attractive brunette’s graces. It was impressive how easily Edward could compartmentalise his own narcissism to feign interest in another to fulfil his more primal needs.

Charm was a skill which could be as learned as trigonometry and his own experiences had taught him that it was much easier to catch flies with honey than vinegar.

Catching the attention of a passing waitress, Jonathan narrowed his features in clear disgust as he set about getting his revenge.

“Radio and tell Cobblepot that Jonathan Crane has just watched two of his patrons disappear into the ground level supply closet and that they did not seem intent on paying their tabs once finished. Tell him he owes me for this tip.”

Recognising the name with a fearful shudder, the waitress nodded as her hands flew to the small black radio which every waitress had fitted to their uniforms as she flitted off to relay the message.

Smirking to himself as he took a sip of his whisky sour, Jonathan angled his body within the booth to offer himself the best view of the corridor leading to the supply closet as he awaited the eventual fireworks which he had just lit the fuse of in an unbridled show of pettiness.

#riddler #edward nygma #scarecrow #jonathan crane #riddler x reader #edward nygma x reader #edward nashton #edward nigma

[felidrae]

With the recent released episode I went back & binge watched the previous episodes. There are many things I could talk about that I want to see more of (example if Penny introduced her daughter to the rest of the crew- I feel Steve would be utterly devoted to her since he’s a clown & has a soft spot for kids as seen from that one customer interaction)

BUT I’m bias and have a fascination in examining possibly veiled relationships & going into the speculative deeper details/interpretations. So I’ll start w/ that.

The topic: Cesare & Doctor (Allen)

Cesare & Doctor seem to have a deeper relationship than how Cesare has one w/ the rest of the employees.

Firstly, from what we’ve seen Cesare seems to only see his employees as just that- employees. He has no inclination to form a bond since we haven’t seen him hang out w/ them outside of work nor use their real names (unlike Steve) but instead uses their costume titles; this is so he doesn’t get attached. Cesare is a man on the job & once the job is done he will finally rest- no need to get attached when he’s dead already.

While Cesare is full of energy, theatrics & is just all over the place in general he doesn’t really seem to take nonsense from his employees nor engage in peer discussions; when he DOES interact it’s limited & mainly snapping:

- Frances asking him to try the bad food & he immediately shuts it down by saying he doesn’t eat food. While I understand where he’s coming from as a zombie there’s no real reason to not at least try it- Not eating something thats no longer needed doesn’t mean he can’t humor her.

- Conrad asking him how old he is. He could’ve lied but instead tells him to never ask him that; then again this could’ve been a “asking someone how old they are is rude” type of thing

- Conrad asking if he’s been to a FTC before & he says “no, I’m a virgin around here” then immediately goes straight back to business “I’m sure my reputation proceeds me however”

- Conrad asking to take lens off is immediately shut down cause Zombie man needs to stay hidden

(Notably, the only time Cesare snaps at Doctor is when he tries to negotiate w/ Cesare over the costumes.)

As stated his interactions with them are mainly orders or stopping them from revealing “ brand secrets” / asking questions. Even they (Conrad & Frances) have no internal familiarity w/ him since they call him “Boss”. It’s all strictly business.

The only people we have seen him fully interact w/ that isn’t a quick remake is Steve & Doctor; Steve makes sense- he’s a long term target who’s foiled his attempted captures time & time again. They got history/beef. Doctor however is just a regular human who’s employed by him- there shouldn’t be any history between the two that would establish the amount of interaction that aren’t simply orders (then again the interactions they do have is also related to business.) as well as treat Doctor more fairly from the rest YET Casare uses a nickname for him which is something we haven’t seen him do w/ the others, dramatically worries about Doctor when he’s down, is more abrasive towards him and counts on him w/ tasks such as gathering information whilst being impressed by him; Doctor is his right hand man.

Doctor in turn does something the rest don’t do- he calls Cesare by his name. This is significant. Why script it to where Frances/Conrad only call him “Boss” but Doctor frequently uses his actual name; this is a personal/friendly undertone. Cesare seems to have no issues with this either which if you go based on Cesare’s character & view on his employees would seem unusual. The only time we see him calling Cesare “Boss” is when he’s shocked/unsure about him.

Overall Cesare displays traits that would suggest he’s slightly more fond towards Doctor (I believe he enjoyed his time with the other employees- he’s just a blockhead & wants no strings attached) & Doctor in return reciprocates. Heck, Doctor is listed as a “Morality Pet” trope though it’s downplayed in the series- so far.

Secondly, the question is why is this specific relationship different from the rest? Well, another thing that’s good to note is the parallel between the two Foodtrucks:

- both have extravagant themes to hide the identities of the employers

-both have three employees that are human

-both sell bad burgers

- both are employers who came out of the ground & aren’t human

From what we’ve seen from the latest episode Steve was in the Earth’s core unconscious until he woke up & dug himself out; causing Tim to be the first to find him. Tim is also arguably Steve’s right hand man since he wears a chef’s hat & in “Down” he is the only one from Bigtop that exclaims a sentence of shock when everything is revealed.

Now this is where the speculation(or delulu) comes into play: both Tim/Doctor are right hand men & both exclaimed in shock at the revelation; so what if like Tim, Doctor was the first to find Cesare? We don’t know exactly how the recruitment happened but Cesare is aware they are all theatre majors (interestingly he specifically mentions puppets when saying this- marionettes are puppets) so either he went out of his way to a theatre group & found them OR Doctor was his first employee who brought his friends along since the pay is nice whilst they get to perform.

If Doctor was the first to find Cesare he took enough interest to make the proposal. This could be for many reasons however given the context of the story it would make more sense if Doctor reminded him of when Cesare was alive- Cesare is a performer & it would make sense he would reminisce about it causing it to make decisions for him.

Personally I would find it fitting if like Cesare, Doctor enjoys puppets- his voice would be perfect for it. (But that is a headcannon & not speculation.)

In conclusion, the relationship between the two is noticeable different from the rest for a Zombie who was using them as a means to an end & learning more on the why would be desirable to see as well as flashbacks about how Zomburger & the relationship dynamics began; seeing how they’re all (Bigtop & Zomburger) handling the revelation that their bosses weren’t human is definitely something we will be seeing.

That’s mainly it- it’s a bit of a rant but I’d like to hear your thoughts/headcannons

Bonus photo:

#bigtop burger #bigtop burger cesare #bigtop burger doctor #bigtop burger conrad #bigtop burger frances #bigtop burger steve #bigtop burger spoilers #bigtop burger tim #bigtop burger theory #bigtop burger billie #bigtop burger penny

[random-introverted-blog]

His Star - His Queen [Chapter 7 - Impromptu Rendezvous]

A King Deserves More

Summary: Astarion and you are finally (kinda) reunited (not fully). Tentative plans are discussed, a tournament commences and a wish is granted. Questions answered, (also kinda) and plenty more left to ponder (definitely).

You didn't think you were the only ones with plans, did you?

Link to the Tumblr Chapter Index

Warnings/Advisories: A fight scene, some uncomfortable witnessed kisses, a few mentions of blood. Creepy dialogue akin to Chapter 4.

A/N: We're getting close to a turning point in the story. Been sort of a lull period to establish what was set up in the first three chapters.

Thank you as always to everyone who supports this little adventure of mine! Hope the wait was worth it!

-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈--ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈--ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈-

After a quick visit to the Precipice for the enchantment to be recast on him, Astarion once again found himself outside that damned palace, amidst the bustling stalls and festival nonsense.

They had been watching, but neither was sure how to reach you. You were effectively surrounded. With that steward spawn Malacai glued to your side, three servant girls in your shadow and four of those palace guards in polished silver armor gleamed in the rays of the midday sun. If there was an attempt at subtly, it was done poorly. But that didn't stop you from casually browsing the jeweler's stand as the stumpy human man made enthusiastic and broad gestures, beaming proudly as he went on about his wide and varied selection. Evidently eager to be the one to sell you your engagement ring.

Just as evident as the fact you weren't wearing one, despite the announcement yesterday.

It was one of the first things he noted to Aric beside him when they spotted you exiting the palace. Accompanied by your small horde, the Ascendant had walked at your side, hands clasped behind his back and carrying himself with his chin held high. Jester - a fitting name for a gnome, he might add, muttered something about drawing the Godking away before he melted into the sea of people. Just moments later, a messenger arrived and whispered in the Ascendant's ear. And then he visibly excused himself from your company. Not that you seemed to mind his abrupt need to depart. But Astarion could have done without witnessing the brief kiss he gave you before he departed.

"If we don't reach her now," Aric muttered to him urgently, "we'll lose our chance." "The tourney is in less than an hour." Subtly reminding Astarion that he insisted on participating.

As soon as he embarked on this ill-conceived plan, he immediately regretted it, muttering, "Bloody hells." But he was never one for planning, anyway.

"What are you—?" The tiefling asked, bewildered, as the elf departed his side and strode toward the guards and servants.

Predictably, his path was blocked by two guards, their crossed spears serving as a clear message "By order of his Majesty, none may approach the consort. "One of them said sternly from behind their full helmet, concealing their face. By curiosity or chance, you looked up from the ring in your palm. Your face instantly brightened with excitement, but then fell, dejected, just as quickly. Worry etched lines on your beautiful face, but you turned to that tall steward of yours. Speaking quickly and urgently, judging by the movement of your lips.

Despite the incredulous expression on your steward's face, you pressed on, your eyes silently begging for understanding. Reluctantly, and with a clenched jaw, the human waved his hand, causing your small horde to retreat. Leaving the path clear for Astarion.

It was so sudden to him then how much he's missed you. How desperately he ached with the ferocious need to draw you close, to wrap you in his embrace, where the world's shadows couldn't dare to touch the warmth of your skin. Shield you the same way you've shielded him so many times.

He could sense that it had also occurred to you. But you pressed your lips into a thin line and shook your head. "I don't need to give him more reason to..." you whisper, your words fading away. Your attention shifts, and you start absentmindedly turning the ring in your fingers, lost in thought. "How come no one else is reacting to you?"

As you ask, you visibly tense up, your muscles tightening as if you're holding yourself back. The urge to run to him was strong in you as well.

"That's quite a long story, my dear. For now, it's a unique spell, or enchantment. That protects me from my... quirks. And my identity from anyone besides you and him."

While skeptical, you seem satisfied enough to let it go. Freeing him to continue. "Listen, Tav," he spoke, mindful of his volume, his voice barely audible over the bustling festive chaos, "we're working as best we can to get you—"

As you hold up your free hand, you cautiously inquire, "Who's we?" You quickly glance from side to side, ensuring that your steward and servants are nowhere nearby to overhear.

"There's a resistance, darling," Astarion whispers. "I've spent the past tenday in their company. They've gotten me mostly up to speed on the state of things in this world." Astarion explains quietly, ensuring his words were only as loud as they need to be. Gathering his courage, he ventures to ask, "Are you...?"

He watches your body tighten into a coil of raw nerves, unease sneaking over you like an unwelcome shadow. "I'm okay, Star," you manage to say, even though your voice betrays a hint of your inner turmoil. "Just tell me what I can do to help. Anything, if it gets me out faster."

With a weighty pause, he inclines his head. "Do you think you could slip out of the palace again? Venture into the city, perhaps less guarded?"

You pause, your fingers fumbling with the ring, as you visibly ponder the request. The burden of the decision lingers in the air, adding a layer of tension. Visibly pondering the request, you furrow your brows, a small crease forming between them. "I... yes," you finally respond, the words escaping your mouth with a hint of bitterness. They hang in the air, heavy and charged. "I can convince him to let me leave, perhaps under the guise of... the wedding arrangements." The words carry a venomous undertone, as if each syllable is laced with resentment and disdain.

Your eyes dart around but focus nowhere in particular, avoiding his gaze momentarily before meeting his eyes, silently seeking understanding. The magnitude of the task is evident in your expression, a mix of determination and uncertainty. "But I can't give you a definite time or location," you continue, your voice tinged with a touch of frustration. "I have to think about it, spin some webs. Another tenday, maybe two, for when he might let me out of the palace. I can't guarantee how guarded I may be, though." As you speak, a faint scent of freshly cooked meats and incense wafts through the air, mingling with the tension. You take a deep breath, as you silently question if that is enough time or if it's too much time.

"How do I even reach you to let you know? Have you any idea how restricted I am in that gilded plane of Avernus? It's not like I can just toddle out and send a letter by pigeon." You gesture to him with the hand holding the ring and suddenly look away. Hiding your eyes behind your well tidied hair.

Every fiber of his being longs to envelop you in his arms, offering the reassurance you so desperately need, and he has to remind himself consciously of the audience around the two of you. "You helped me take back my freedom. I will not leave you alone fighting to regain yours, my love." He pauses and eyes the jewelry pinched between your fingers. A black band, exquisitely crafted, sparkled with a delicate arrangement of petite blue and silver gems.

Like a night sky painted with graceful strokes of twinkling stars, crafting an mesmerizing display resembling a beautiful dance across the dark expanse of midnight.

"You have a servant girl you apparently handpicked."

"Elowen." You finish for him, still not returning your gaze. "I saw her with you yesterday."

"She has a sending stone for you. You can use that to inform me how your plan is progressing, and when we can expect your... appointment." Astarion offers. By the hells, where is that wriggling worm when he really needed it? Dormant? Is that what Illyndra said? "I have to go. The tourney is about to begin. Suppose I'll see you there."

With a slow and deliberate movement, you raise your head to make eye contact with him once more. Hardened. But with more than just resolve. The instinct for self preservation was starting to take over. A little more than a tenday and you were already well on your way to building your bulwark against pain.

Your primal survival instincts were already well underway, it seems.

It seems like your primal survival instincts were already well underway. "No." you respond, your voice devoid of warmth, your eyes distant. "I have another lesson on sovereignty or whatever to endure, followed by a dress fitting, much as I wish I could shirk those things. But he will be there." Your gaze shifts upwards and away, as if searching for an escape. Despite your casual tone, the words carry a warning. His involvement will expose his presence in this world.

Now aware of the human steward's slow approach, his hands tucked behind his back. Astarion pressed his lips together, realizing that you had noticed before he did. "Lady Ancunín," he chided, "that is not the proper way to speak of your affianced publicly." As he drew near to your side.

A fleeting glimmer of a glare that passes through your eyes before you swiftly bury it away, refusing to meet your Star's eyes and witness his shock at your unexpected title. You take one last look at the ring between your fingertips before pushing it back onto the wooden counter of the stall. "It was good seeing you." Lacking emotion, you mutter over your shoulder, your voice sounding even more lifeless than the vampire spawn.

Then you turn away. The vibrant hues of your flowing dress create an enchanting whirlwind around you, captivating the eyes of those who witness your departure. Beside you, Malacai effortlessly matched your determined stride, the click of his boots echoing in sync with your deep brown shoes, and the guards and servants followed closely. However, amidst the commotion, only one person breaks away from your shadow, venturing into the bustling crowd. With a lingering gaze upon the ring you had set down, he moves on.

Curious, Astarion followed her carefully. Barely moving through the crowd when he found her again. He wasn't surprised when he found her speaking to the Ascendant. The exchange was short-lived, a mere moment, before he brushed her off with a nonchalant wave of his hand. She performed a graceful curtsy before him, and then hastily made her way, presumably in search of you. He turned back to a familiar tall Elven man. "Ballar." Aric said as he appeared beside him. "His righthand steward. Out of all his advisors, generals... Ballar is the one he seems to lean on the most." He explains calmly while Astarion recalls his first day in this world, in front of the palace doors.

On his way to the tourney ring, Astarion swiftly shares the key details of his conversation with you. Noting the balcony overlooking the patch of fenced in dirt from above. Positioned next to each other were two magnificent chairs with ornate designs. Empty for the time being, but a handful of servants diligently clean the tables, meticulously polish the armrests and golden goblets, and arrange a spread of refreshments.

"Jester lured Ancunín away by tipping off the Noctis to a resistance hideout, but now he has to hurry and evacuate it before they get there. He told me to make sure you won. Apparently he has an idea for that wish." Aric explains next, surprising Astarion the lengths the gnome went to provide him an opening to meet with you.

If these Noctis Veil are as... efficient as he's been led to believe, it was not a risk he would have taken lightly. An elite subterfuge and espionage force blended with vampire spawn? Creative... and terrifying.

Not long after, the tourney began. He had expected more competition than those he had faced in the ring already, but they hardly stood a challenge against him. It was almost comical. As their gazes met, Astarion braced himself for a more pronounced reaction from the Ascendant, but was met with a calm and collected demeanor. His doppelgänger didn't seem surprised in the slightest.

What did surprise them both was when you entered the balcony from the door behind the Ascendant. Right behind you, Malacai discreetly positioned himself against the back wall, behind the chairs. While waiting for his next round, Astarion observed the "sovereigns" and could tell that the Ascendant wasn't thrilled to see you there, although he didn't appear eager to send you away either.

Instead, he gestured to the seat beside him, and you took the offer. Though Astarion saw your lips moving, neither of your voices reached his ears. But you made a show of eyeing and playing with your left ring finger as you spoke, and your vampire managed a sad smile. Still doing your best to communicate to him what was unfolding around you.

But then the monster turned to lock his glare to Astarion's. Cueing you to look as well.

Much to his surprise, the Ascendant let you watch most of the event before clearly dismissing you. Again, with a soft touch and a gentle press of his lips against yours, he sealed the moment with a brief, yet lingering kiss, unable to resist the allure of your beautiful, addictive lips. You didn't look at Astarion as you rose and left, avoiding his gaze.

However, the Ascendant did. His eyes gleamed with wicked delight as he leisurely crossed his leg over his lap, revealing a glint of his fangs beneath his lopsided, smug grin.

Aric's surprise at Astarion making it to the final round was clear, as he made no effort to conceal it. Though the combatants thus far have proven easy.

Once he enters the pit, he assesses his final opponent. The sight that greeted him was a striking half orc man, his tall frame clad in resplendent gold and silver plate armor. A longsword stood firmly planted in the earth in front of him. On one knee, deep in prayer. A paladin.

Rising, he turns to the balcony, his eyes filled with determination as he brings a tight fist to his chest. "My Godking," he said with utmost reverence, "I swear my undying loyalty and devotion to you! May your reign beside our queen be long and prosperous!"

"You can take him deeper down your throat, surely." Astarion mutters under his breath with a roll of his eyes, drawing his twin daggers from his hip.

The game-warden, true to form, delivers her usual verbose introduction for the two fighters, emphasizing the high stakes of this decisive match. And with two deafening blasts of the horn that mark the start of the final match, the paladin fearlessly charges forward with a resounding roar that reverberates through the air and mingles with the dying echo of the tournament horn, his footsteps echoing like thunder.

Radiant energy crackles along the length of his blade. Astarion moves with grace and ease, smoothly sidestepping the initial strike, a small grin already forming on his lips.

The sound of steel meeting steel echoes through the festive courtyard as Astarion effortlessly parries the next series of broad swings, his movements appearing almost otherworldly in their fluidity.

With each display of the behemoth's strength, his confidence grows, knowing that all he has to do is bide his time, find the perfect moment, and make the behemoth kneel before him with a blade at his throat.

But the ferocity of his assault doesn't relent, testing your vampire's stamina. A heavy strike descends upon his head, and with a swift, skillful roll, Astarion narrowly avoids the blow. A sharp pain shot through his shoulder, confirming that the behemoth managed to graze him, marking the first sign of bloodshed.

Gods, what kind of idiot was he? Direct confrontation would never work. His opponent had brute strength and evident vitality on his side. But what he didn't have was speed and agility. He couldn't outmaneuver Astarion...

Filled with renewed determination, he deftly navigates around the hulking figure, launching rapid attacks whenever he spots a vulnerability in his armor. Aimed to soften his target, make him easier prey.

The paladin, feeling the taste of victory within his grasp, lifts his sword once more, unleashing a powerful cry as he gathers an overwhelming surge of radiant energy, preparing for a divine smite. With incredible reflexes and nimble footwork, Astarion skillfully evaded the attack, causing the half-orc to lose his footing and stumble ahead.

Astarion, quick as lightning, seizes the fleeting opportunity and launches a relentless assault on his opponent, the sound of his slashes and stabs filling the air as the paladin struggles to defend himself. Finally, one of Astarion's daggers finds a weak spot in the sturdy armor, piercing the skin and drawing blood. Despite his subdued appetite, the tempting aroma wafted through the air, teasing his senses.

Ignoring everything else, he stayed fixated on the momentarily stunned paladin, driving the pommel of his dagger directly into the half-orc's nose. He relished in the satisfying crunch and the resulting cry of pained astonishment. Employing a strategic technique, he disarms his adversary with the flat of his blades, following up with calculated strikes to immobilize the weakened areas.

Completely outmatched and devoid of weapons, it appears that even this arrogant brute accepts defeat as he humbly kneels before your rogue, surrendering without resistance. Silently acknowledging him as the victor.

The applause of the crowd faded into the background as he turned his attention toward the balcony. Astarion's eyes locked with the Ascendant's, who couldn't help but sport a sly grin as he arched one eyebrow in amusement.

He paid no mind to the game-warden once she let go of his arm, the one she had hoisted in the air, and he quickly made his way back to Aric. Only a little surprised to see the irritating gnome at his side. "Impressive for a foolhardy pretty boy."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me." Jester doubled down but shook his head. "Listen, we don't have long before you're summoned for your audience with Ancunín..."

‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐–‐

With a nod from the well-dressed servant, the guards stepped back, allowing him to open the door. The Ascendant commanded attention as he stood in the middle of the room, his back facing the onlookers as workers toiled to remove a grand portrait from the wall. Meanwhile, the Ascendant maintained his poise, casually holding a goblet between his fingertips.

It looked like you... but also not. Somehow.

His gaze lingered on them, studying their actions, before he turned his head to look over his shoulder and acknowledge his new arrival. "Ah, my favorite cockroach." Muses the Ascendant with a wry smile. Returning his attention to the workers, he commanded, "Leave us."

Astarion observed the workers exchanging uncertain glances, their hands carefully clutching the weighty portrait. Looking on, he could discern the Ascendant's eyes rolling and catch the faint sound of an impatient growl resonating from his throat. In a hurried frenzy, they carelessly released their grip on the item, hitting the floor with a resounding thud. The impact was forceful and reverberated through the room, shattering the delicate frame and inflicting irreparable damage upon the once-pristine portrait. Yet, a strange indifference permeated the room, as not a soul in the room seemed to care about the damage.

Once only the two vampires were in the room, the Ascendant turned to face him. "Quite a performance you put on today. And you didn't even spend half of it on your back." He taunts, flavoring the malice with a smirk as he elegantly swirls his goblet. Astarion's senses tingled as the intoxicating scent of fresh blood wafted through the air, a scent as pure as the first falling snow. It possessed a certain sweetness, a tantalizing whisper that hinted at its source - young, untouched... Virgin blood? The thought alone sent a shiver of excitement down his spine.

It was an obvious attempt to bait him. Salt his wounds and tease his instincts, his hunger. "Where is she?" Astarion demanded, his tone sharp and impatient.

Mimicking confusion, he gently tapped his chin. The furrowed brows cast a shadow over his piercing ruby eyes. "I know of many, but none named so simply as 'She'..." he mused, his voice trailing off with a hint of contemplation. As if lost in thought, he released a soft sigh, the sound barely audible. "You'll have to elaborate, I'm afraid. Small words, if necessary for you." He adds quickly near the end of his sentence. The words accompanied a slight wag of his finger, creating a sense of derision in the atmosphere.

"Where," your vampire's deliberate speech draws out each word, "is Tav?"

"Ah, you mean my consort and fiancée, Lady Tav Ancunín! Impressive, isn't it? She carries my name already, and she hasn't even decided on a design for her wedding dress! But I spare no time nor expense for my beloved treasure." He looks up and away, a wistful expression crossing his face and a sense of longing fills his eyes as he lets out a dramatic sigh, before refocusing on his Spawn-self.

"Even you can understand that, surely..." he uttered with a subtle hint of challenge in his voice and then casually lifted his goblet to his lips.

"I understand enough to know she detests being spoken of as some cherished possession." Astarion snaps, his voice sharp and full of determination, as he dares to take a single step toward the vampire lord. "She desires simplicity, quiet, a humble but peaceful life. Not," he gestures broadly to the large, opulent room, glittering chandeliers casting a soft, golden glow over the hardwood floor, "this. If you have any genuine care for her, you would have seen that by now," he argues with conviction. Lowering his chin, every one of his instincts urging him to rend this imposter limb from wicked limb.

Pausing, the Ascendant's piercing gaze locked onto him, an iciness emanating from his unmoving expression. The air grew heavy with anticipation, a silence so profound it echoed in the room. "She will learn," he asserts, his voice laced with an unyielding determination that cuts through the silence like a blade. "Already, the seeds of knowledge have taken root within her. And once she embraces the timeless gift of eternity, we shall have an infinite expanse to immerse ourselves in her tutelage."

Astarion's eyes widen in disbelief as he is taken aback by the shamelessness that emanates from the Ascendants' words. In that moment, his mind becomes a raging battlefield, a chaotic storm of countless responses swirling within him. Insults, questions, and a myriad of other thoughts clash violently in his head. But amidst the chaos, he hones in on the crucial information just revealed. "You actually plan to turn her?" He manages to utter with a focused glare, his words dripping with a blend of incredulity and scorn.

The scene before him unfolds like a vivid tableau, each detail etched into his consciousness, the Ascendants' smug expressions, his self-assured posture, all of it adds fuel to the fire burning inside him. Astarion can almost taste the bitterness of his own anger, a bitter tang that fills his mouth as he struggles to find the right words to respond. "She's to be just another pretty spawn to sit at your feet, then?"

"Don't be absurd," The Ascendant sneers, his lip curling in a disgusted expression. Shadows dance along the walls as the Ascendant's power emanates. The aroma of incense and polished floorboards lingers in the air, mingling with a hint of something sinister. "My power has surpassed that of a mere vampire lord," he continues, his voice dripping with a chilling confidence. "The bride of a vampire Ascendant, a king, a god... should transcend the lowly status of cattle and spawn." As he speaks, his eyes, a piercing shade of crimson, reveal a darkness that seems to simmer beneath the surface. The thought of his own immense power elicits a twisted satisfaction, sending a shiver down the spine of anyone who dares to meet his gaze.

"The depths of my intentions for my darling consort, my queen-to-be, are far beyond anything you could even begin to comprehend." With a dismissive flick of his hand, he turns away, his red and black tailcoat swirling behind him like a macabre dance as he gracefully moves towards a table - adorned with a vase of dark flowers and flanked by a pair of elegant couches. He takes a deliberate sip from his goblet. The liquid, a rich crimson, glimmers in the warm golden glow of light, embracing the room from the chandeliers above.

Setting down his cup with a gentle clink, he shifts his attention back to Astarion, whose feet seem glued to the ground. The room feels heavy with tension, as if it could be sliced with a knife. This bastard, with his unpredictable nature, unsettles him to no end. With reluctance, he acknowledges that his best advantage lies in staying close to an exit, much as he loathes to admit it. "My time is fleeting and precious, little rodent. You emerged victorious in the tournament, earning yourself a single wish. However, be warned, I possess the authority to reject anything I find unsuitable," he states, adjusting his attire to settle comfortably into the plush seat behind him. Draping one arm lazily over the backrest, lifting his other hand to inspect his impeccably manicured nails, a small gesture of indifference amidst the charged atmosphere.

Astarion doesn't hesitate. "The gravesite of your lover. Where is it?"

"The mausoleum—"

"The real one." Interrupting, he receives a look that is both amused and indignant from his imposter. "I know you hid the body."

"There was no body to bury, never mind hide." The Ascendant bites, sending a dagger of a glare up at Astarion. "The disintegrate scroll reduced it to ash, and her soul has no desire to return." His tone murmured as he allows his gaze to drift back to his nails.

"I concealed the remains by the beach, where our paths intertwined for the first time. I was not keen to share her, even then..." he murmured, his voice devoid of any excitement. A pat of his pocket to check the content and a precise motion, his fingers delved into the recesses of his exquisitely crafted pants, retrieving a weathered locket. Without a parting look, he stretched out his arm, offering it to Astarion.

Cautiously, he stepped closer and delicately lifted the small silver locket from his hand. Tracing their intricate, though simple engravings with his thumb, he marveled at their intricate simplicity. As he attempted to open the latch, a faint click sound sung through the air only to be met with resistance. The mechanism lay broken, refusing to yield.

Before he could gather his thoughts or utter another word, the grand doors to the room suddenly swung open with a resounding creak. In a state of urgency, a servant burst into the room, her breathing heavy and ragged and eyes widened in alarm. "My Godking, there is a matter that requires your urgent attention!"

With no interest in responding, the Ascendant maintained a distant stare, fixed on his nails. "Another one?" He mutters under his breath.

"It's Lady Ancunín, she... her parents...!"

In a swift motion, the Ascendant springs to his feet, his tailcoat flowing behind him. With purposeful, long strides, he makes his way towards the door, the sound of his boots echoing through the room. The air carries a sense of urgency as he sternly commands, "Escort our tournament winner out, he's received his reward." He remains focused, not glancing back at either of them.

Startled, her voice trembles as she stammers a quick acknowledgement and the guards flanking the doors from the outside move to stand beside her. The heavy footsteps of the guards echo through the grand hall, armor polished and shining in the well lit grand hallway. They stand beside her, their imposing figures reinforcing the command of their Godking, urging Astarion to comply.

As he delicately slipped the locket into his pocket, his feet remained rooted to the ground. His mind, however, raced like a wild stallion, galloping through a vast expanse of thoughts. You didn't have "parents"...

-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈--ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈--ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈-

A/N: I know Bhaal is the Dark Urge's father, before we get in an debate to tell me something I already know...

Next chapter could be another Spawn chapter or we could go back to Ascendant. Seems like we're sort of doing a two-and-two sort of format and we can maintain that for awhile.

Would love to hear from you guys as always how you're enjoying the story thus far. Feel free to drop a reply or an ask, whatever floats your boat.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #baldur's gate #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate astarion #ascended astarion #baldurs gate fanfiction #astarion #bg3 astarion #astarion bg3 #baldur's gate astarion #vampire spawn astarion #spawn astarion #ascended astarion vs spawn astarion #ao3 baldurs gate #His Star - His Queen #HS-HQ

[otakubimbo]

The Rabbit & The Wolf Chp 1.

Kakashi x F! Reader

This is why you should never sleep with you friends. Unless?

Ch2

Sticky Note: This is an oncoming series, Kakashi is the original love of my life so I hope you like it!

Master List

18+MDNI

The wolf and the rabbit on another mission together. You and Kakashi did missions together frequently because you both were the best Anbus the Leaf had, except today you were off your game. To say you were distracted would be an understatement, luckily this was an easy mission. Go in, steal some shit, get out. Unfortunately, all you could think about was your sisters upcoming wedding to the worst most disgusting man you have ever had the displeasure to meet in your whole life.

It was nightfall, you and Kakashi were trying to be stealth while sneaking into a building to steal some scrolls from the Hidden Village of the Mist. You were moving on autopilot that you didn’t even realize that he had stopped walking, which made you almost run into the back of him.

He glared back at you, “Pay attention” he hissed and you just rolled your eyes under your mask. “If this is about your sisters wedding, you can focus on that AFTER we complete the mission.” He knew you too well, he was one of your few close friends for a reason. You had been complaining about your sisters wedding since the day she got engaged. The calm cool exterior you usually put on always came down when it came to your sister or anyone you loved for that matter. She was all you had and she was about to marry a dumbass. You always put on your best face when he was around but you hated him.

“Just say you’ll come with me then, I can’t do that shit by myself. Just thinking about it makes me angry.” You whisper as he gives you directions to sneak into the place. You went through the window and waited for him to follow behind you.

“Fuck, fine” he exhaled, extremely annoyed with you. You smile triumphantly under your mask and now you can focus on the task at hand. Almost every man in your age group, and some women, were trying to be your plus one to your sisters wedding. Safe to say, you were extremely uninterested, especially because you didn’t want to go your damn self. At least if your best friend came with you, you can talk shit about the whole thing. You have a certain stoic appearance you have to keep up and that would definitely come down if you had a real date.

You efficiently got the scrolls you needed and y’all got out and headed back home. Another successful mission as always. Once back the Hokage took your report and relieved you both. You immediately went home afterwards, needing to have a long soak before having to deal with your sister and this wedding nonsense. You and your sister were complete opposites. She was the most bubbly and sweet person that anyone could meet, the definition of a girlie girl. While you on the other hand, you were serious and some may say a little mean but it was part of your charm, at least that’s what your sister says. This is another reason why you hated this whole wedding situation more than anything, on top of having to dress up for it, she was marrying that man. Your sweet older sister was marrying a man that had the personality of wet garbage. But for whatever reason, she loved him and you would support her behind that. As your bath runs, you start to detangle your hair. Having your hair texture was really inconvenient to your line of work. No matter what style you put it in, unless protective, it always ended up tangled you didn’t understand how. You knew your sister wanted you in braids so you were gonna start the process early before you’re dragged along behind her for the next two days. You spend the night getting all your stuff together and relaxing, it was gonna be a long two days.

WEDDING DAY

You were exhausted, but the smile on your sisters face is the only thing keeping you going, along with the half bottle of sake you’ve already had. There was no way you were getting through this sober. Aki, your sister, had you running around the last two days getting primped and finalizing wedding shit. Right now, you were having the last touches of getting ready, your braids were pulled into a bun and flowers were being placed around it. They were yellow, complimenting your brown skin and yellow kimono perfectly. You looked stunning Aki kept saying as if today wasn’t HER day. She, of course, looked beautiful and radiant, it almost brought tears to your eyes but you dare not mess up the makeup you just got done.

“Kakashi is going to be keeping you in check right?” Aki laughs looking at herself in the mirror. You sigh heavily at this and take another shot of sake.

“Yes ma’am, and I’ll be on my best behavior for you. But also if you just want to cancel everything and dump him that’s completely fine.” You state, trying to be nonchalant but hopeful nonetheless. She laughs and hits your arm.

“I love him.”

“I know.”

You were about to try one last time to suggest she not go through with this when a knock came at the door. This must be a sign that she must get married to this horrible man. After a heavy sigh, you tell them to come in. It was Kakashi. He came in and looked wide-eye(hehe) at you. He of course looked handsome, he always did, still with the mask and headband covering his eye.

“I clean up nice , yeah?” You give a little twirl and almost stumble. Maybe you shouldn’t have drank so much without eating anything. He huffs and shakes his head.

“She’s been drinking.” Aki laughs, as cheerful as ever. You smile and take another shot.

“Just a little, here take one with me” You hand him a glass and pour one for each of you. “ The bride to be wants to stay as coherent as possible apparently.” You both clink cups and somehow he drinks without having his face be show even though you both have seen his face before. After the shot, you put your cup down and grab your sister by the hand.

“I love you Aki and want nothing more than your happiness.” This statement almost brought tears to her eyes, you weren’t known for showing such genuine emotions.

“I love you too Y/N. And I’m so happy, especially with having you here with me.” She smiles brightly and you give her hand a squeeze. You leave to go take your seats.

Kakashi raises a brow at you, “You good?” He asks as you seemingly exhale for the first time.

“Yeah, she’s happy. So, I’m happy.” You say reluctantly. He slips you a flask and you give him a slight smile as you take another sip, he does the same and puts it away.

The wedding was beautiful, the dumb ass did cry when he saw your sister which you guessed was a good thing. That’s what people say at least. She radiated nothing but joy and love as she read her vows to him. Now that the ceremony was over, it was time to party. You finally got a little something to eat and were less drunk than you would have been but still very drunk. The bad influence that you were, you kept feeding Kakashi drinks also so the both of y’all were pretty drunk by the end of the night. As the night turns to end, Kakashi starts walking you home. More like y’all were stumbling to your house. You groan as you try to get the key out to get into your house.

“She looked so pretty and he just looked so, bleh” You say annoyed finally putting the key into the door. You hiccup as you basically fall into the house.

“You look gorgeous though” Kakashi says leaning on your door frame. This caused you to spin on your heels.

“I told you I clean up nicely!” You yell, laughing at the way it looks like he would just sink into the frame. He comes in behind you closing the door as you finally take your braids out of that headache inducing bun. The flowers fall around you as the braids sweep your back.

“You should probably stay, your drunk” you laugh as Kakashi is still standing by the door just looking at you, you raise a brow “What?”

He just stumbles to sit on your couch, taking his mask and headband off. You follow suit, and lay down putting your head in his lap. His lap was so warm and comfortable. You look up at him drunkingly.

“Hymn, maybe you are a little handsome like all the girls say.” You reach up to touch his face and he looks confused at you.

“A little?!” He frowns as you giggle tracing your fingers over his jaw.

“Yes, a little. Or maybe I just can’t see” You grab his face with both of your hands and pull it down to yours for a better view. That may have been a mistake because now it feels like you can’t breath with how close he is. This is not how it should be going. You two are very much just friends, childhood friends at that and you don’t like being just a cliché but you still can’t breathe and you’re looking directly into his eyes as if for the first time.

“Y/N” He breathes and you just blink up at him. You could easily blame this on the alcohol, you were both very drunk and usually not this close when drunk. After what seemed like hours going by of just looking at each other, you’re the first one to cave. You kiss him. It seems to have shocked the both of you, but once he registers what’s happening he kisses you back. His lips were so soft and needy. You pull yourself up to sit in his lap , the kisses were getting more aggressive by the second, hungry. He gripped your hips as you started to grind into him, your tongues exploring each others mouths. You let out a small moan as he bits down on your lower lip. He gripped you even harder and that feeling went straight to your core. You feel the wetness between your legs start to escape your panties and you could feel his hardness grown under you. Your head is spinning as he trails kisses to your neck. The way he was sucking on your neck you may just cum right then.

“Kakashi” You moan as he bites down on your neck. His hands found their way under your kimono and he was palming your ass.

“I want you so fucking bad” he growls into your ear, biting and sucking it.

“Then take me”

That’s al he needed to hear as he lifts you up and takes you to your room. The look in his eyes as he looked down on you, turned you into a puddle. He looked at you like you were prey, like you were really the rabbit and he was the wolf. He slides on top of you, connecting with your lips yet again. His hands all over your body trying to get you out of your kimono. Once it was off, you felt a little shy under his gaze and he turns your face to look at him.

“Beautiful” is all that he says before he is on you again, making his way down to your breasts. He takes one in his hand and the other in his mouth. He kneads your breast as he bites down on your other nipple. You gasp from the pain and pleasure arching your back and throwing your hips into him. He captures your mouth again and slides his unoccupied hand down to your folds. A hiss escapes his mouth as he touches you.

“You’re already so damn wet for me, huh?” He ask against your lips, sticking a calloused finger inside of you. “And so damn tight” he says as your walls try to suck in his finger, he shoves another one in and you gasp. It had been awhile since your last time, you had been so busy with missions and the wedding business you hadn’t even gotten yourself off. You moan his name as his thumb circles around your clit while the fingers inside you tell you to come here.

“Cum on my fingers before I take you with my mouth” He says against your neck, which instantly made your cum. He laughs as he removes his fingers and shoves them into your mouth. You lick them clean while staring him in the eye.

“I didn’t think you would be such a good girl.” He cooed watching you taste yourself. He pulls his fingers from your mouth and makes his way down to your folds. “ I knew it would be perfect,” he praises before dragging his tongue through you. “And fuck you taste so damn good” another praise.

As skilled as he was with his hands, he was even more skilled with his mouth. The way his tongue circled and flicked your clit it overstimulated you. Your hands went immediately to his hair and you tried to fuck his face. He shook his head and held you down. He was going to savor every single moment he had tasting you and it was driving you crazy.

“Be a good girl so I can make you cum again.” He lets go of your hands as you ball your fits. Sticking his fingers back inside you, he prioritizes his mouth on your clit, sucking it like it was you were a milkshake and it was the straw. With his fingers pumping you and what his mouth was doing, you didn’t know how much longer you would last. You made the fatal mistake of looking down at him, the look of him ravashing you made you cum so easily, not only did you cum, you squirted on his face. He pulled back wiping his face and you were embarrassed and gasping for air. The arrogant smile on his face made you even more embarrassed as he kneeled over you. You didn’t even know you could do that.

“You liked that didn’t you,” the cocky smirk still plastered on his face. He had his cock in his hand, and that shit was huge. The biggest you’ve ever seen. “Now it’s time to return the favor, pretty girl”

You didn’t know how you were going to take it but you were going to find a way. With your mouth open and your tongue out he puts his cock into your mouth. He didn’t take it easy on you either with his size, he shoved the whole thing in gagging you. But the way he just pleased you, you knew you had to give it back. You started moving your head as you hollowed your cheeks to take him. He slumps over to grab the headboard.

“Fuck, you’re too good at this” Kakashi breaths out trying to hold himself up, you’re bobbing your head so quickly his balls are smacking the under your chin. You swirl your tongue around his tip and he groans. You could barely breathe but who needed breathe when the noises he was making could easily make you cum again.

“You’re so pretty sucking my cock” His hands went into your hair holding you still while he starts fucking your face. You did your best to accommodate his aggressive pace, tears were coming to your eyes from how hard he was plowing into your face. The moans escaping his mouth made it worth it and it was turning you on even more knowing the pleasure you were giving him. With a few more thrusts you can feel his seed shoot down your throat.

“Swallow”

And you do, like the good girl that you are still with his cock in your mouth which you give one last suck. You move to sit up but he pushes you back down.

“I’m not done” He says backing off the bed and pulling you to the edge. His hand goes to your throat as he positions himself at your entrance. He enters you with a his, you were so wet and so tight you didn’t think he could fit. He presses harder into your neck as you try to move back.

“You can take it.”

You don’t think so but you just nob as he pulls back out and then slams right into you. You gasp and grip the sheets, his dick immediately found your gspot. Your scream of pleasure was all he needed before he started pumping into you relentlessly. You wrapped your legs around his waist and pulled him closer, wanting to feel all of him. He came down to your ear moaning your praises, how good you felt, how pretty you looked, how well you were taking him. His other hand not occupied by your throat went to circle your clit. It was all too much and you didn’t know if the room was spinning because you were drunk or because of the pleasure. All you knew was that you were about to cum.

“Ka-Kakashi, I’m gonna ——“ You could barely get the words out and you were getting so close.

“Cum for me, pretty girl”

And with that you did, hard. Your walls tightened around his shaft and he soon came right after you . He didn’t even have time to pullout. A later problem. You were spent, the last thing you remember his him pulling you both into the bed and putting his arms around you.

It felt like morning came sooner than it should have. Your head was pounding and your body sore. Your best friend did just fuck the shit out of you last night and now he was gone. You woke up to an empty bed. That was fine? That’s what you were going to tell yourself. People fuck their friends all the time. Yeah? Yeah. You did need to talk to him because he did kind of cum in you last night and then ditch before you woke up. Kind of rude. With your hangover in tow, you went all over the village looking for him. You checked his place, wasn’t there. You checked Gai’s place, wasn’t there. You even went as far as asking the Hokage if he had sent him on a mission, which he didn’t. He was obviously avoiding you and that fucking hurt. You just had the best sex of your life with your best friend and now he was avoiding you like it was a mistake. At the time, you didn’t think it was a mistake but now, you didn’t know. You just wished you could at least talk to him.

A few weeks pass and still no word from him. He was definitely avoiding you and you just couldn’t take that. So you did the only thing you knew how and threw yourself into your work. You convinced the Hokage to put you on solo espionage missions. These missions were long and tiring, you didn’t have many rest breaks in between and you didn’t want them. Two years end up passing in a blink of an eye. You’ve barely been back in the village for more than a day or two in that time. You hadn’t even really seen your sister, you did miss her.

Entering the Hokage office after finishing your last assignment and he makes you take a seat after giving your report.

“Yes sir” you state taking your seat and your mask off.

“I won’t be assigning you on a new mission just set.” He sets his papers down and locks his fingers. He has a strained expression on his face. “You should go be with your sister.”

Your heart drops, you had been so in your own space that you didn’t even possibly know what was going on with your sister. Everything in your body wants to leave right then.

“Go” He says simply and you bolt from the room.

As you turn the corner right out of his office, you smack right into someone pushing them out of your way about to yell sorry when their hand grabs your wrist.

 

#kakashi smut #kakashi x reader #kakashi x you #kakashi hatake #naruto #black reader #kakashi sensei #smut #team kakashi #kakashi fanfiction #kakashi hakate #naruto smut #friends #friends to lovers #friends to more #relationship #drinking #getting drunk #wedding

[usergrantaire]

gilded age s2 finale im waiting on that s3 renewal announcement

- not the society matrons yanking the duke around like a rag doll

- marian’s gonna have to marry RICH rich now

- is it just the lighting or is christine baranski’s wig looking greyer

- no way bertha would let gladys marry billy carlton after the way she had george drive away tom blyth last season lol

- oh she’s gonna use gladys as bait to lure the duke back to her side isn’t she

- oh noooo we finally have a face to mrs fortune

- what does bannister have against chicago lmao

- aw mr borden lent mrs bruce his jacket

- gasp not larry inviting an engaged woman to the opera with him

- and marian lying that bertha was the one to invite her!

- yas everyone roasting armstrong

- yup bertha’s gonna sell gladys to the duke

- george’s sleeves are so tight 👁️👁️

- oh naur too bad they didn’t have telephones yet back then

- “you’ll stop when we get married” oh fuck off dashiell

- homemaking IS work

- not him calling marian harriet 😭 the classic wrong name outburst

- those big ass hatpins

- “i thought you loved me” bro you assumed

- the duke tug of war is exactly the kind of frivolous nonsense i expect from anything by jf

- “where else can i find all the divorces” she’s just like me fr

- another fabulous hat from bertha

- aww mrs bruce

- “we aren’t exactly alone here” yeah i think that’s kind of the point

- also that pink dress is lovely

- marian’s opera gown is incredibly frilly

- i think i recognise the pattern of bertha’s opera gown from a worth

- “why are you all being so nice to me” because they’re going to sell you to a duke babe

- after seven episodes carrie astor returns

- wow the academy is embarrassingly empty

- mamie fish took one look and dipped lmao

- the duke is named hector???

- the plot of faust foreshadowing gladys and the duke’s marriage

- on the STOOP? in front of god and everybody?? in the year of our lord 1883???

- but we won!

- jf sure loves his letters from beyond the grave, not him recycling the matthew letter plot

- yeah of course luke was a secret heir lmao

- oh they’re all on ada’s payroll now

s3 renewal announcement when i need to see gladys’ consuelo vanderbilt ass storyline fully come into fruition

#kei watches the gilded age #the gilded age #gilded age hbo

[hyperfixatedfandomer]

Sorry for another ask XD but I loved how much you loved my OC Marcey.

So I thought I’d share more about her and her relationship to spider and to everyone else.

Marcey was once engaged to Jakes brother Tommy. Marcey and Jake and Tom all grew up together as kids. Marcey views Jake like a older brother.

When Spider was first discovered by the scientists nobody knew what to do. Marcey, who always wanted kids, decides to take Spider as her own child. Marcey is also mated to Tsu’tey. (She’s an avatar driver and she doesn’t transfer immediately after the sky people leave cause she wants to give Spider a few good years with her human half. Marcey’s mother died from cancer and unfortunately Marcey also has it, but max and the others were able to formulate a treatment that was less harmful to her body).

She does find out who his father is and so does Neytiri. Marcey calls Neytiri out on her hatefulness towards spider saying that, “The sins of the father do not fall to the son”. And this argument goes on for hours before finally Neytiri realizes that her behavior is wrong and views spider as her sweet little nephew.

Marcey also states to everyone that she doesn’t want anyone, and I mean anyone to even mention who her sons birth father is. She states that, “Only if he asks about him. Will I say anything. Otherwise I don’t want him knowing anything about Quaritch.” And she is very strict about it.

Tsu’tey her mate agrees that it would be best not to mention Quaritch to Spider as the boy doesn’t need to feel the guilt and added stress of the actions his father did against the people.

Let me know what you think and as always keep up the great work!

OMG?? 😳 the way I audibly sipped my non-existent tea at the notion that this woman is tightly knit into the whole thing like THE DRAMA 🫢

But I love how no-nonsense she is. She sees injustice done to Spider and goes “We’re not doing that in this household” and ARGUED FOR HOURS???? I wanna see it, I NEED to see our flawed homegirl Neytiri get called out.

And she’s about to be real surprised when she finds out that Quaritch himself has crawled back from hell (albeit as a clone) and snatched her baby away 😭 with attitude like hers Marcey’s gonna turn the entire Pandora on its head with Tsu’tey right behind her like the loyal hubby he is:

Marcey: Where is he??? WHERE IS MY SWEET BABY BOY👹

Jake: Alright sis calm down, we need to stay level-headed if we want to find him.

Tsu’tey: no my love, get angrier. We need all energy we can get to rip their heads-

Jake: STOP ENCOURAGING HER—

All of that while Spider is casually having a✨breakdown✨ when he is suddenly faced with the fact that his bio dad is the worst man ever and is forced on a months-long impromptu family trip with him.

Spider: Why didn’t you say my biological father is like, literally THE devil? 🤨🧍

Marcey: It was irrelevant 🙄💅

She’s amazing lmao, you should give the queen a fanfic of her own✨

#avatar spider #avatar 2 #avatar #spider socorro #avatar headcanons #avatar way of water #miles quaritch #avatar quaritch #avatar jake #avatar tsu'tey #avatar oc

[trucker-dave]

This is me and my handsome hunk of a husband on our weddin’ day seven years ago. He had more hair, and I had less.

Love day always reminds me of the time around this picture, and how it changed my outlook on life for the better.

Funny little thing, our weddin’ was— well, not little, since Coach had about 40 family members in attendance. But that was what was funny to me. He had so many kinfolk there, and I just about had none.

As soon as we got engaged, his whole family started plannin’ around it. A lot of them even wanted to help with the plannin’ and organisin’ of the event itself. It was awful sweet (and a little overbearin’🫢🤣) how much they wanted to be involved in the whole affair. But all the while, I couldn’t help but feel a little sad.

Those who know me know my story. I haven’t always been “Trucker Dave”, but my own blood wishes I never had been. It was sad at the time, but I survived and I thrived without them.

When I was younger, my mama would always talk about what she wanted my weddin’ to be like. What church it had to be in, which cousins would get to be bridesmaids, what the dress should look like, and even what kinda man the groom would be. Made me dread gettin’ hitched so bad I considered joining a convent.

Of course when I started plannin’ my real weddin’, I was thrilled. But there was always this naggin’ voice in the back of my head, tellin’ me the flower arrangements were wrong or the reception food wasn’t quite right. Drove me just about nuts.

So, with all that nonsense, you’d probably think “good riddance to them!” And I wanted to… but even after all that, with memories of them poisonin’ the fun I was supposed to be havin’, I still wanted them to be there. They’re family. Family shows up for each other no matter what, I thought, even though I tried remindin’ myself of all the times they had proven otherwise.

Got so bad I almost contacted my siblin’s— found them on social media one night. But the moment I saw their faces pop up on that screen was the moment I knew this had to stop. I couldn’t put myself through what would surely be more heartbreak.

I told Coach about all these feelin’s, and he suggested that I take some time away from weddin’ plannin’ with some friends to unwind. So I went on a weekend fishin’ trip with Billy and Johnson, my groomsmen, and Rhonda, another good friend and bridesmaid (or groomsmaid maybe? Is that a word yet?).

As we were sittin’ back in our chairs on the rocks, waitin’ for a catch, I couldn’t help but ask, “do y’all think we need family to be complete?”

Billy and Rhonda both said yes, while Johnson didn’t say nothin’, as he tends to do.

So I said, “then how could an orphan be happy?”

Billy looked at me a little funny, and says, “what’s stoppin’ an orphan from havin’ family?”

And, well, I couldn’t help but say, “I don’t know, Billy. A fire, maybe?”

Rhonda laughed at my little quip, but Billy just shook his head and clicked his tongue. “What’s stoppin’ an orphan from makin’ a family, David?” he asks.

And I thought about it for a bit, and then I said, “maybe he’s too young to start makin’ a family.”

Billy looks down at his beer, then he says, “alright, alright. How ‘bout findin’ one?”

And I sat with that for a little while, before admittin’, “I’m not sure I’m followin’ you, Billy.”

Billy nodded, then asked me another question. He asked, “how long was it between leavin’ home and meetin’ the Coach?”

So I answered, “four years, I think.”

And Billy asked, “and what did you do in that time?”

And well, I couldn’t help but raise my beer to the sky and holler “truck!”, and the others couldn’t help but follow suit. But after we’d shared a drink, I thought about it some more, and said “I suppose I was always on that radio, talkin’ to you fellas.”

That’s when Rhonda piped in and said “buildin’ a community.”

And Billy clicked his fingers and pointed right at her. “That’s the one!” he said. “That’s what it’s all about! We humans can’t help but build our nests next to each others, and share our worms, and huddle together in the Winter. Whether we realise it or not, we’re always buildin’ a community around us wherever we go. Don’t gotta be married or havin’ kids, just gotta be willin’ to lend a hand-crank and share a beer.”

And when I tell you I couldn’t help but shed a tear as I looked around at my friends, at wild and free Billy, at helpful and hilarious Rhonda, and at stoic and stubborn Johnson. I hadn’t realised it up until that very darn moment, but who I was lookin’ around at weren’t just friends, but my own kinfolk. My family.

And I said, “well goddamn, Billy, you just about made me whole again.”

And he said, “brother, it’s about time.”

I’ll never forget that trip, the one where I discovered my real family right before startin’ a new one with Coach. I’ve spent my whole life tryna build connections with people like myself, and yet I didn’t realise what I was really lookin’ for.

Coach and I have been thinkin’ long and hard about what we want our family to look like, and sooner rather than later, we know we’d like to bring a little one into our lives. And I swear on whatever higher power there is in the world that I will make that little one feel at home with me, and I will show them love and kindness no matter who they turn out to be.

And one day, I’ll take them out fishin’ with their uncles and aunt, and tell them the story of how our family came together.

Happy love day to you and yours, from me and mine.

#blessed

[dreamwritesimagines]

Enamored Extra Scene 3

This whole night didn’t even feel real.

The opera house was lit up in its all glory, yet it didn’t make Anthony feel anything other than the sinking regret at the pit of his stomach. The fresh air did nothing to help the haze of alcohol muddying up his mind after Benedict pushed him to a bench so that he could sit down. He rested his elbows on his knees, bouncing his leg while Benedict heaved a sigh, then offered him a cigarette.

Anthony eyed the cigarette wearily, wiped the blood off his mouth–a gift from Elias, not that he hadn’t deserved it-, then put the cigarette between his lips, and let Benedict light it.

“Are you alright?”

Anthony scoffed a bitter chuckle as he took a drag, then exhaled the smoke while Simon approached them, no doubt having assured the rest of the family back in the opera house that nothing was wrong.

If only.

“Well hello Icarus,” Simon said with a small smile, “How did it feel to fly so close to the sun? Did you enjoy it?”

Benedict grinned. “Burned thoroughly, if I do say so myself.”

“God, I hate both of you,” Anthony grumbled and Simon sat beside him, clasping his shoulder.

“It gets better.”

“It won’t,” Anthony muttered, wiping at the blood again. “Elias will never forgive me, and I’ve lost the woman I…” he stopped himself, taking the cigarette to his lips again and Benedict tilted his head.

“The woman you what?”

“Leave me be, Benedict.”

“No no,” Benedict said, “You are drunk in public—”

“I’m not drunk.”

“Yes you are. I’ve seen you lose control twice in these last two days, you were nearly begging her to listen to you even after Elias attacked you and I’ve never seen you beg anyone before let alone a lady—”

“What’s the purpose of this summary, exactly?”

“The purpose is that you hear this out loud because it sounds almost like…” Benedict hummed. “What does it sound like, Simon?”

“The consequences of him talking big and tempting fate.”

“No, the other thing.”

“Oh it sounds like love,” Simon pointed out. “You’re in love.”

“Isn’t it time you two went back inside?”

“Isn’t it time you actually were honest with yourself?” Simon asked and Anthony let the ash from the cigarette fall to the ground, keeping his eyes on it in complete silence.

Simon cleared his throat. “Anthony...”

“I was right.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I was right,” Anthony said, his voice barely sounding like it belonged to him. “I was right to stay away from this, before everything. I haven’t been myself since she walked into my life.”

“It’s love.”

“It’s torture, Simon.” Anthony muttered. “That’s what it is. It’s torture.”

Benedict stole a look at him. “How did you mess up this bad, exactly?”

Anthony shook his head. “Allard was there.”

“Care to elaborate?”

“He was in the Avon Box. Elias said it would be family only, a way to announce the engagement before it hit the papers tomorrow.”

Simon blinked a couple of times. “So?”

“He was in the box on a night that was supposed to be family only and if he was there, I thought it meant… that it meant she accepted his courtship, and when Benedict and Eloise showed up and Benedict you were telling her how Allard implied he would propose—”

“Did I say anything that implied she would say yes?” Benedict cut him off. “He was just talking nonsense, she didn’t even hear it and what? You decided to take it as your sign to go after your mistress?”

“She’s not my mistress.”

“Former mistress, as if it makes any difference.”

Anthony exhaled the smoke before stubbing the cigarette and standing up, “I must go to the Avon House—”

“Oh no, you’re not doing that tonight Romeo,” Simon pushed him back to the bench and Benedict nodded fervently.

“I don’t want to become the Viscount or the head of the family, so stay where you are and sober up.”

Anthony ran a hand over his face. “I need to go, I need to explain myself—”

“Anthony, give her some solitude,” Simon said. “You owe her and Elias that. Everyone who’s involved in this needs some peace of mind tonight, we will come up with something tomorrow.”

Anthony pressed his lips together, then shook his head again.

“No amount of solitude will grant me her forgiveness,” he managed to say, “Tonight, or tomorrow, or ever.”

                                                       *

The rest of the night was a blur. Anthony was barely aware of anything, it was as if his body moved and his mouth talked without him paying any attention to it. His mother had questions, he could see that, but as soon as they reached home he shut himself in his study, desperate to be alone.

It proved to be the wrong choice, but he wasn’t sure if there was any right choice after tonight. The sight of her crying by the Avon box shot through his mind, making him close his bloodshot eyes, digging the heels of his palms into them before he reached for the glass of bourbon, then downed it in one go to fill another one.

Even that didn’t help.

He was so lost in his thoughts that it was only when the butler announced Elias’s arrival he was pulled out of the haze he was in, his head shooting up. He jumped on his feet when the door of the study opened and Elias stepped in.

It was almost ironic, how opposite they were for siblings. Both their anger was visible, but in completely different ways, Elias would always go cold and distant whereas she—

Spitfire, that one.

Anthony tried to focus through the haze of pain at his chest and took a deep breath. “Is she alright?”

“Are you trying to get punched again?” Elias asked back and walked to the cabinet to fill himself a glass of drink just like he had multiple times when he was there but—

It was different this time, even an outsider could see that.

“My betrothed convinced me that challenging you to a duel would get in the way of my wedding,” he said after a beat, then sat down. “Therefore, you and I will just talk. No promises on punching though, that’s still on the table.”

Anthony shrugged his shoulders, unable to humor him.

“Had it coming the first time anyway.”

Elias raised his brows and swirled the drink in his glass, watching ice pieces hit each other.

“So,” he said. “How long?”

“Elias—”

“How long has this been going on?” Elias cut him off and Anthony licked his lips.

“Just over a month,” he murmured. “Since the dinner party here.”

Elias’s grip tightened around the glass and he clicked his tongue.

“You’ve been pursuing my sister for over a month behind my back,” he repeated. “Alright.”

A painful smile pulled at Anthony’s lips. “I didn’t plan this.”

“No?”

“Do you think I’m unaware of the fact that I don’t deserve her?”

Elias scoffed and gritted his teeth. “I’m going to need you to think really hard before you answer the next question,” he said. “Did anything happen?”

Anthony’s brows pulled into a frown. “Are you seriously asking—”

“Yes I’m seriously asking that.”

Anthony shook his head. “There has been… unchaperoned moments but what you’re insinuating didn’t happen. I would never dishonor her, you know that.”

“I don’t know shit, as tonight proved,” Elias pointed out. “God, I really want to punch you again.”

“Go ahead,” Anthony scoffed. “If it’s going to make you feel better. In all honesty, I think it’d make me feel better.”

“Great reason not to do it then,” Elias said. “And tonight?”

“I ruined everything.”

“Oh I know that, I’m just asking what exactly happened.”

“We…we had an argument yesterday, she walked away very angry, she said she never wanted to see me again” Anthony muttered. “I didn’t get to talk to her today and then I saw Pierre in the Avon box, and you said it yourself, it was supposed to be family only, and apparently he was talking of marriage, Benedict and Eloise were talking about it and I… assumed she accepted his courtship officially and that it was a way to announce it alongside you, and I made the worst decision possible.”

Elias frowned. “What?” he asked. “Another argument?”

“She saw me with Siena.”

Elias stared at him, his mouth slightly agape and a humorless laugh escaped from his lips. “Jesus Christ.”

“I let jealousy lead my actions, I thought—I don’t know, the thought of her marrying anyone else was so unbearable that I looked for solace in…” A bitter taste appeared in his throat. “It’s not an excuse, it’s an explanation.”

“Mm hm, a terrible one at that. You went to your mistress because you were jealous.”

“I ended everything with Siena two months ago,” he said. “It didn’t feel right. Even when I was with her, I couldn’t think of anything but—”

“I’m going to stop you right there before my sister’s name leaves your mouth.” Elias snapped and Anthony downed his drink, then filled it again.

“It’s the truth.”

Elias pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head.

“I told you not to do this,” he said. “I told you not to drag her into these goddamn games of yours, way before she got here.”

Anthony’s jaw clenched. “I don’t know why everyone thinks the same but it’s not a game for me.”

“Oh spare me—”

The words left his lips way too easily, almost as if he couldn’t contain them any longer, as if they had been waiting for the momentary weakness to slip away.

“Eli, I love her.”

That seemed to make Elias stop mid-rant and he gawked at him as Anthony swallowed thickly.

“I tried not to,” he rasped out. “I tried everything, I swear to you. I’ve done nothing but try to stop this since…since I realized it but nothing seems to work, not when it comes to her. I love her.”

Elias let out a breath in disbelief before tilting his glass in his direction.

“Fuck your love, Anthony.”

Anthony took a deep breath. “I understand that you’re—”

“No no, it’s obvious that you don’t understand anything so let me enlighten you. Do you know what’s happening right now?” Elias’s tone was laced with fury. “Back at my house? My little sister is sobbing in her bed, saying she wants to go home because she’s too heartbroken to stay here.”

Elias should’ve just punched him.

It would’ve been way less painful.

A fire spread through his throat but he kept quiet, looking down at the glass.

“That’s your love?” Elias asked him. “Because I’m in love with Cecily and the thought of going to another woman would never cross my mind, no matter how jealous I was. You’ve spent so long running away from love that you forgot what it was, because this? This is not love.”

Anthony tried to swallow the lump in his throat. “I need to see her.”

“Right, that’s not happening.”

“You can’t stop me, I’m going to talk to her—”

“Over my dead body. Or yours.”

“I don’t care how many times you punch me, I’m going to fix this,” he insisted and Elias let out a humorless chuckle.

“Oh you’re going to fix this?” he repeated. “That girl worships love above anything else, you let her believe she had it before pulling the rug out from under her, and you think you can fix this?”

Anthony ran his fingers through his hair, heaving a shaky sigh.

“You’ve never been naïve in matters of heart,” Elias pointed out. “Don’t start now.”

A silence fell upon the room and Anthony rubbed at his forehead as if it could help with the blinding headache.

“You know…” Elias trailed off after a couple of seconds. “She took after my mother. Father says so. Not just looks, but her personality as well.”

Anthony pulled his brows together, barely aware that he was twisting the ring around his finger the way she always would when she was with him.

“My mother never forgave my father,” Elias said. “Ever. Forgiving betrayal of her trust is not in her blood, and I’m telling you this so that you can actually understand. There’s no fixing this. She will not forgive you, and you need to acknowledge this and move on—”

“I can’t,” Anthony cut him off and shook his head, then shot him a painful smile. “There’s no moving on, Eli. It’s either her or no one for me.”

A dark chuckle vibrated in Elias’s chest as he downed his drink, then stood up.

“You will have to enjoy your life in solitude then,” he said and walked to the door, then turned around.

“By the way, right before I came here she asked me if heartbreak could kill someone because apparently it feels like she is dying. That’s the price she pays for your love.” He eyed him up and down. “I hope you sleep well tonight.”

With that, he walked out of the study slammed the door behind him, leaving Anthony completely frozen.

#enamored extra scene

[phoenixyfriend]

Hey who wants a Star Wars/Bridgerton crossover? Too bad, you're getting one because I finished S2 the other day and I'm having Thoughts about "Regency but actual historicity only matters when it gives us cause for drama" and, of course, Ahsoka Tano.

(You probably don't need to have watched Bridgerton to understand this.)

We take some post-war no-66 AU Disaster Trio+Padme-and-the-twins and have them do a 'diplomacy' visit to a rather old-fashioned planet that was hit by Separatists (mostly they set up a base in Antarctica, but a few ships did get shot down over populated areas so...) and the sapient population is mostly humans that have been cut off from the rest of the galaxy for so long that they didn't know other planets were even inhabited, let alone so widely.

Now that they know, they'd like to trade, etc. The safest way to do that, in order to do things like 'acquire spaceships and not be raided by space pirates' is to reach out to the recovering galactic republic.

For the purposes of plot, we'll say that Earth (Terra) does have some raw materials that are useful for whatever reason. IDK. Space needs all the coal they can get for raw carbon to make bacta or some similar nonsense.

Obviously, they need to be assessed to see if they can abide by Republic law in order to be viable to trade with and gain ship access etc. This is complicated by the fact that there is not a singular planetary government, but many, many, many fractured ones. Most of the bigger ones appear to have gotten that way through imperial conquest, which is... not great. The solution is to send some senators and Jedi to make overtures to multiple governments, convince them to hold some sort of global congress (proto-UN) in order to set up at least a representative body that the Galactic Republic can interact with, in order to do things like Make America (and many others) Stop Doing A Slavery.

Padme, bringing along her former-Jedi husband Anakin (and through him, Obi-Wan and Ahsoka, who are there as The Jedi, since Anakin isn't officially a Jedi anymore, because he has a wife and children, and also some clones there as support, and a few handmaidens), is the Senator chosen to go to Regency England.

Who, since the king is... not well (he's old and has days where he thinks he's forty or thirty or twenty again, due to dementia or Alzheimer's or something), is ruled primarily by Bridgerton's interpretation of Queen Charlotte, who dresses a few decades out of style purely to be dramatic and extra af in 1800s court dress, and is also mixed race, which has led to Bridgerton-the-show's England being racially egalitarian, even though the classism is still a huge issue.

Anyway, this is Queen Charlotte:

The core of the awkward plot is that in order to get Queen Charlotte to work with them, they have to play by her rules and engage with London's court games, with all the ballroom dances and promenade, etc.

Since Ahsoka is Of A Marriagable Age, she has to attend things, and dance with people, and she can't just tell people that Jedi Don't Marry (and she's a Jedi again, she's finishing her padawanhood with Obi-Wan, the war is over and she's back and she is going to be a knight, dammit) because that would ruin Queen Charlotte's fun, so she has to play along for at least a few weeks.

There is a lot of Hot Gossip about how she's... well, she's not human, sure, but her brother seems to be wealthy, so maybe the dowry is good? And for anyone who wants to explore, marrying her would be a ticket off planet! Ahsoka at one point tells everyone that any man who wants to marry her needs to beat her at fencing, arm wrestling, or straight up brawling. Anakin and Obi-Wan and Padme all approve, and the Queen thinks it's hilarious so nobody can like... stop her.

Much drama is had about her wanting to just bring along one of the troopers as her socially-necessary escort to things, because those are men! Who could take advantage of a young lady like herself! Someone does try to get her alone for an entrapment plot but when people walk in on them as planned, she's got him in an armbar and refuses to explain why but. Whatever was happening, it wasn't that kind of inappropriate.

Eventually the Queen deliberately lets slip that actually, Jedi can't marry, and all of the money in Skywalker's hands is actually Amidala's (there might be some switcheroos going on where people don't realize that Padme's the senator instead of Anakin, because gender things in Regency England, and also she's definitely swapping out with the handmaidens to get servant secrets), and so if anyone wants a dowry, it'll have to be by getting her good favor, not just Skywalker and Kenobi's.

Something something "but you're a general, Kenobi, shouldn't you be a man of wealth and taste, like all of our great military leaders?" "...we're monks." (Various marriage-minded mamas try to get their daughters into his affections. They do not succeed. Anakin eventually drops a joke that if Obi-Wan was ever going to marry, it would have been to Duchess Satine Kryze of Mandalore, who is definitely still alive here, and who has basically proposed to him twice, and the instances were twenty years apart, and since that hasn't happened, Obi-Wan definitely isn't marrying, ever.)

Someone asks Ahsoka whom she would marry if she did have to follow Regency England rules, where she's got to marry Up, and she lists off just. Boys that she's managed to save the lives of, since apparently she can only marry a boy with these rules.

1. Lux Bonteri (Anakin counters that she's too good for him)

2. The Prince of Mon Cala (shot down because togruta and Mon Calamari can't procreate, and an heir is necessary for Regency rules, which they are required to follow here)

3. Korkie Kryze (Anakin decides this is the least objectionable option)

Ahsoka finishes by saying that if she had to marry but didn't have to follow Regency Rules, she'd just marry, like, Rex or something. Rex gives her a fist bump for this declaration.

"Whaddaya say, Rexter, you wanna get hitched?" "Well, I don't have anything else on my schedule for tomorrow. Senator Amidala can probably officiate. Think I can get a lightsaber if I'm married to a Jedi?" "Worth a shot!"

(They don't actually get married but man do I love Rex and Ahsoka being Absolute Besties.)

There are also Bridgerton-character-specific plots in my head that probably don't make sense unless you've seen the show but I'll describe a few with hopefully enough detail to work for the people who are only here for Star Wars.

This is Colin Bridgerton. He is the third son of a Viscount (though his father died, so now the Viscount is his eldest brother), and his big thing was that he wanted to go traveling. He did a trip to Greece and greatly enjoyed it. His primary role in the show is as a potential love interest for two young women, Marina Thompson and Penelope Featherington. He would be interested in Ahsoka possibly due to the opportunity to See The Stars. He's a much more genial kind of guy than most of the men we see, though there's still some casual Rich Boy moments. He's generally polite, kind, and even funny.

This is Penelope Featherington. She is secretly the author "Lady Whistledown," who anonymously pens a gossip column that the ton reads religiously. She is young (mid teens, though the actress is mid-thirties) and clever, but she's a wallflower who currently has no marriage prospects. She'd be invested in the opportunity to enter a society where she can earn money etc. without it causing her to lose her status and possibly being able to do things like Inherit, which she can't in Regency England.

Eloise Bridgerton! Colin's younger sister (she's the fifth child of eight) and Penelope's best friend (until an incident late in the second season), a budding activist. She's very 'baby's first step into feminism,' and she gets into a decent amount of trouble in the second season by 'consorting with political radicals' who advocate for women's emancipation, etc. She'd be very interested in Padme and the handmaidens, and learning that Padme is the chosen representative (either directly elected, or picked by an elected queen) of an entire sector.

Benedict Bridgerton (second son) is an art student who is... you know what Gil's like in Paris (Girl Genius)? Like that, but for real. I don't think he has any interest in leaving the planet or marrying one of the SW cast, but he is probably pretty interested in scoring with a Nabooan handmaiden.

Genevieve, the modiste. She's a dressmaker by trade, pretending to be French because the ton is fickle and people won't buy if she admits she's English. I feel like she'd strike up a friendship with Padme's team on the basis of providing guidance on what the Rules Of Propriety are in this period to the wardrobe team.

The Prince (whose name I forget), a Prussian royal that is Queen Charlotte's nephew. She keeps trying to set him up with an English noblewoman so he spends more time in the country instead of going back to the continent. I don't think she'd try to set him up with a Star Wars person, but I do think it would be very funny if he falls for one of Padme's girl gang.

Portia Featherington, Penelope's mother. Her family's fallen on some hard times (her now-dead husband gambled away most of their money, including the dowries), and she's very conniving and scheming and all such things in order to get her family back to a good place. She's a bitch about it, but she's also usually right, and S2 ends on a note that has her putting her daughters before everything. I'm not sure what her exact plot would be here, but getting one of the girls married off to a Star Wars person probably features.

The Dowager Viscountess Bridgerton (the mother of the aforementioned Bridgertons) and THE BITCH HERSELF, Lady Danbury.

They like to matchmake (they've twice gotten one of Violet's kids married off to Lady Danbury's... charges? Her godson, and then a family she was 'sponsoring' due to a scandal from twenty years earlier).

Lady Danbury is also something of a friend? Ish? To the Queen, and one of the only people that gets to talk back and get away with it. She is magnificent.

Anyway, I think they'd be delighted with the idea of like. Joining forces with Padme and Anakin to matchmake local girls who want to Get Out Of Here with one of the clone troopers.

#bridgerton #star wars #the clone wars #ahsoka tano #anakin skywalker #captain rex #obi wan kenobi #padme amidala #anidala #vague mentions of #rexsoka #phoenix posts #crossovers #regency au #sorta

[tc-doherty]

Book One | Chapter Six

Index | First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Tag list: @bloodlessheirbyjacques @magefaery @did-i-do-this-write @marrowwife @muddshadow @outpost51 @full-on-sam @bluberimufim @unclear-contributions @talesfromtheunknowable @guessillcallitart @flowerprose

(Ask to be added or removed)

Elizabet had a yawn behind her fan.

"If you find it so distasteful, why bother coming year after year?" Asked Patrice. "Surely handsome young knights are not so interesting as to outweigh your boredom now."

She didn't think her comment was a funny one, but that did not stop the countess from laughing. "To keep track of the pulse of court, my dear." She paused to smooth a wrinkle out of her skirt. "Which ladies support which knights can tell you a great deal, and the feast can tell you even more. Everyone is already sounding out alliances for next season. Only a fool would allow herself to be left behind."

Patrice had to wait a moment for the announcer to finish rattling off the names of the current fighters - a Sir Bruce and Dame Mordecai - before she could continue the conversation. Before she had tried to ignore Elizabet, and that hadn't deterred the woman any. If the woman was determined to talk, at least Patrice might be able to get some relevant information out of her – if she could drag the conversation away from the personal lives of people she had no interest in. It was certain to be more useful than the repetitive jousting down below was interesting.

"What is the season?" She asked again.

"Runeria is disgustingly hot in the summer," Elizabet said, and fanned herself for emphasis. "New Iber even more so, with its close-packed walls. We all flee to the countryside until fall. The season is the time between fall and spring where we live here and important business is taken care of."

Patrice nodded and looked around. Most of the people she could see were engaged in their own private conversations. Only a few seemed to be watching the joust with any interest. If she listened closely, she could hear multiple mentions of the country, summer homes, parties, alliances, and marriages surfacing out of the sea of chatter.

She turned back to Elizabet. "Why did you invite me to go with you?"

"If you are to thrive in court, my dear, you'll need a mentor," the countess said. "Someone to teach you who's who and what's what, what to do and what not to do. I do happen to know all that information. It could be mutually beneficial, you would learn everything you need to learn, and I would be able to keep a much closer eye on current happenings."

Patrice said nothing. At least the old woman was honest about her intentions. That was something. But Patrice had no interest in allowing herself to become bound to this human court and their nonsensical traditions. She wasn't really sure what she did have an interest in, but it certainly wasn't that.

As before, her silence did nothing to dampen Elizabet's spirits. "You'll have to let me know your decision before the party starts," the countess said, then snapped her fan shut and used it to gesture to the far end of the field. "That's your little knight over there, isn't it?"

Patrice followed the motion.

Felisjyta stood at the edge of the sand, leaning on Vasya's saddle as she laughed and joked with the squire carrying her lances. Earlier she had still been dressed in loose trews and tunic. Now she looked just like the Runerian knights, decked in armor over a heavy gambeson. The little mountain mare was turned out in matching caparison and barding, with blue and green ribbons woven into her mane and tail.

Both the knight and mare seemed unconcerned. Felisjyta had not even spared a glance for her opponent, and Vasya was idly lipping the grass that grew at the edge of the sand.

Patrice frowned. Her end of the field held a high-strung dark bay courser. The gelding pranced and tossed his head, and danced sideways when his knight tried to mount. Felisjyta swung easily into Vasya's saddle and put her helm on before taking the field.

"Serzeks really don't produce much in the way of knights, do they?" Countess Elizabet asked.

"She looks a knight to me," said Patrice, unamused.

"Of course, dear, of course."

The announcer spoke, saving Patrice from having to make a reply. "An interesting development," he said. "Sir Braiden Collens, fighting for Lady Suzan Greenheld. Dame Felisjyta of Fellveer, fighting for Lady Patrice Drake."

A titter of surprise ran through the crowd. A few nobles in the box turned to stare, but Patrice ignored them. After a moment of silence, scattered applause began. It grew stronger as it went on, but not as strong as it had been before the other matches.

"So you see," said Countess Elizabet punctuating her words with waves of her fan, "breaking tradition is no way to make friends at court."

Patrice had just about enough of this. "Dragons," she said," do as they please."

As Elizabet opened her mouth to speak, the announcer lowered his arm and called out the order to start. The joust gave Patrice a very convenient reason to ignore the countess.

Both horses began to move, jumping directly to a gallop that sped them towards their opponent. Patrice held her breath as they drew closer to one another. Already she had seen one knight carried off the field bleeding when a match went badly, and Felisjyta was much smaller than her opponent.

Lance met shield with a crash.

Both knights wobbled but kept their seats. Vasya came to a stop on her own, but Braiden had to jerk his gelding back around. Neither lance was broken, but each knight took a fresh one before regaining their spot. They charged a second time.

Lances lowered.

Patrice watched with bated breath and clenched hands.

On the third pass, Braiden's lance hit the upper half of Felisjyta's shield. She wavered under the force of the hit. Her own strike went wild, sliding off the shield to hit him on the left side of his chest. Braiden reeled too – and fell.

The crowd cheered wildly, no longer concerned about anything except the action in the arena.

Patrice let out the breath she'd been holding and began to clap as well. On the field the two knights bowed to one another. Felisjyta rode off, Braiden led his horse away on foot.

Compelled by the twin desires to gloat and defend Felisjyta's honor, Patrice turned to the countess. "See, she's not nearly so bad a knight as you imply."

Elizabet clapped politely. "So it seems. The Serzek duchess arrived a year ago, but her knights have always kept to themselves in practice. Your Felicity is the first one we've ever seen in a tournament."

"My Felisjyta? I would not think I had any claim to her success. She's the knight after all," Patrice said. She did not look at the countess as she said it. She was examining her gown. She hadn't realized her temperature was up, but the dress now had two lines of scorch marks on it where she had rested her arms. She wouldn't be able to wear this one again. Maria would be quite cross with her.

Elizabet laughed. "Oh come now, she's fighting under your favor, so she accepts you as her inspiration, so to speak."

Patrice shrugged and ran her palm over the ruined fabric. "She was only doing me a favor." She turned away from the other woman, determined to ignore the countess once and for all. She had no intention of getting dragged into court politics!

Patrice found the tournament to be enjoyable, much to her surprise. She began to appreciate the jousting, or at least watching certain knights progress farther and farther to the top. She could understand why people would wager great sums of money on such a sport – as she heard them do all around her – and she still found the duels to be strangely beautiful. Although, the more of the tournament she watched, the more she could see just how much Johan and Rothert had altered their performances. Most of the duels that she saw lasted less than two minutes, with the fastest one being over in fifteen seconds. Nothing at all like the extended sword fight the two of them had performed.

The jousts stopped at noon for a two hour break during the hottest part of the day. Maria came to fetch Patrice from the stands. The maid tsked over the state Patrice's dress, and whisked her off to the city of tents to do some shopping.

Patrice could only follow along behind, bemused. Maria knew more about fabric and color and fashion than she did, so she merely stood by while the maid haggled and bargained with her money and came away with armful after armful of fabric to be sent to the castle.

"Am I really going to need so much?" Patrice asked.

"You will if you keep destroying your gowns like that!" Maria scolded. "Dragons probably can't help being hot-blooded but please try to control yourself." She held up a roll of red silk to inspect. "You'll also need gowns if you intend to join the court to a greater degree. Ladies tend to frown on wearing the same four dresses to every occasion."

"But-"

Maria put down the red silk and pulled out a roll of dark violet instead. "We'll have to find a way to spruce them up a bit. A little embroidery here and there, maybe with pearls and semi precious stones. And we'll have to get you some more jewelry as well."

"But-"

"I know you prefer simple clothing but they won't let you get away with it, even if you are a dragon." Maria set down a roll of gold mirrored silk next to the purple and gave the vendor measurements to cut.

Patrice gave this particular battle up for lost. "If you insist," she said with a sigh. "But if I'm to let you and the others dress me up in this ridiculous frippery, I demand that you also purchase me some boots, or at least shoes like yours. I hate wearing these things."

It was Maria's turn to sigh, but she didn't even look up; she had already moved on to studying another type of fabric in a deep blue. "Fine, fine. I'll see what I can do. But you'll need to have a proper gown matching Dame Felicity's colors for the feast at the end of the festival. With Anna and Elaine helping me, we ought to be able to come up with something. As long as you agree to actually wear it."

"A bargain is a bargain. If you keep your end, I'll keep mine. Dragons are creatures of their word, after all." Patrice turned and began to watch the crowd instead, a chaotic sea of colors and sound whirling from booth to booth. All around were men and women just like Maria – shopping and gossiping and talking about the court. There was no one there who did not look utterly thrilled to be there, save for the occasional protesting child. Patrice folded her arms and tried to contain her impatience.

Maria must've read something in her body language. The maid shook her head. "Why don't you go visit with Felicity? I can work here by myself as long as you trust me."

"You're the only one here who understands all these confounded rules, you'll make far better choices than I would," Patrice said, relief evident in her voice. She left Maria alone and made her way towards the northwest corner of the estate.

Patrice was not surprised to find Felisjyta tending to her horse. The Serzek knight had stripped out of her armor and gambeson. Vasya too was temporarily divested of armor. Sweat plastered Felisjyta's hair to her head and turned the mare's coat from gray to black.

Patrice slowed as she neared the pair, but this time the mare did nothing more than flick one ear forward in interest as she approached. Encouraged, Patrice walked right up and stroked Vasya's damp neck.

Felisjyta looked up from where she was brushing the mare's flank. "Back again?"

"I wanted to congratulate you," said Patrice, "and also to escape from shopping. Maria is determined to spend as much of my money as possible."

"I didn't realize you were as well-off as that," Felisjyta said. She ran a wooden comb across Vasya's back with long, even strokes.

Patrice shrugged. "When I first came here, the court steward returned to me all of my mother's gold which had been stolen. They also gave me custody of the land in the Old Kingdom – though as far as dragons are concerned, land and treasures both are up for grabs so long as no one is there to defend them."

"Humans see things differently," Felisjyta said. "No one here seems to have much interest in the Old Kingdom, they say it's cursed. So it didn't cost them much to give it back to you. They were probably just hoping that doing such a thing would appease your anger." She shrugged, then switched topics. "Are you going to stay and watch the rest of the tournament?"

"Do you think you'll win?" Patrice asked.

The knight laughed. "Win? Who knows. I'd like to." She tossed the wooden brush down onto the grass and tapped the mare's shoulders. Vasya followed her to a water trough in the middle of camp, where several other horses were drinking.

Patrice followed them, careful to keep her distance from the other animals.

Only after Vasya had begun to drink did Felisjyta speak again. "I'm doing my best. Rozhalea wants at least one of us in the finals, so we're all trying for it."

Vasya pulled her head out of the water and wandered off toward the patch of grass next to the blue and green tent. Felisjyta let her go. She scooped up a bucket of water and doused herself down, causing her loose linen clothing to stick to her body.

"Would you like to sit in the shade?" Patrice asked.

Felisjyta grinned and wiped water off her face. "That obvious? You look cool enough."

"I am a dragon, after all," Patrice said. “The Great Dragon in the Sun does not turn his fangs on us.” She walked back to Felisjyta's tent and settled down on the far side, where the nearby trees caused a large patch of shade.

The knight followed. "Our legends say that we're descended from dragons," she said, "though I think we'd handle the heat better if that was true. In any case, we've long thought of dragons as good luck symbols."

"I didn't know humans would think such a thing. Is that why you agreed to accept my favor?"

Felisjyta gave Patrice a look that the dragon couldn't even begin to interpret. "The fact that you gave me your favor heartened my fellow knights, and I'm hardly immune from the feeling myself. But I accepted it because you offered, and because I'd like to think that we might be friends."

"I see," Patrice said. She wasn't really sure what to say about that. She'd never had any friends before other than her mother, and she had never really thought about wanting any either. She glanced around the camp looking for inspiration. "I noticed that almost everybody in Runeria wears their hair long, and your hair is quite short. But looking around the camp, the other Serzek knights also have much longer hair than you. Why?"

Felisjyta laughed. "You're a bit of a strange one are you?" She asked, and ran a hand through her wet hair. "Some lessons are hard learned. I cut my hair off to remind myself not to get involved with people who want more than I can give them. I've been growing it back out since then. It was about two years ago."

The explanation made sense to Patrice, but Felisjyta's comment did not. "I don't see why it's so strange. Maria and everyone else here always say that I can't do this or that because it goes against human customs, and human customs are what they are, and everyone follows them. So naturally I'd be curious."

Felisjyta laughed and leaned back on her hands. "There are a lot of people like that in Serze too. Rather more of them, I'd say. People in Runeria might be concerned with appearances and always being at the very height of fashion, always fitting in with their equals and betters, but their culture progresses much faster than ours. It's the only thing I admire about them. Times are changing, but the systems that we have in place in Serze don't change easily."

"The wisdom of dragons is that things always change around us, and we change with them," said Patrice. Her mother had reminded her that, just a few short weeks ago. "Even so, I don't think dragons change as much as we think. We are always creatures who value freedom over everything. All of this," she gestured around, "is a lot. Humans-"

"-are complicated," the knight finished her statement. "Although you are quite good at complicating things yourself."

Patrice huffed and crossed her arms. "Only because humans do so many things that don't make sense."

Felisjyta laughed again. "I agree. How old are you anyway? Sometimes you seem quite young."

Patrice thought she probably could've taken that as an insult, and graciously decided not to. "Dragons don't measure things in years the way humans do," she said. She spoke a word in the dragon language, and groped for human words to describe it. "I think you would call this 'little unwise bright scales' in your language."

"Little unwise?"

Patrice couldn't help but smile at the sound, and the concept. It made sense in dragon, but sounded ridiculous translated to human tongue. "It means I'm old enough to breed, but shouldn't, because I'm not full-grown yet," she explained.

"I see." Felisjyta nodded. "I'm twenty-three. Certainly much younger than you, but in terms of physical maturity you're the younger."

"Perhaps." Such things didn't really matter to her.

In the distance, a trumpet sounded. It was almost time for the jousting to begin again. Felisjyta stood up and offered Patrice a hand to do the same.

Patrice elected to stand up on her own. "I will stay for the rest of the tournament today," she said. "Good luck."

Felisjyta gave her a mocking bow. "I will do my best not to disappoint you, my lady." She laughed when Patrice rolled her eyes.

It was such a silly thing, but Patrice decided to play along with it. "You should always endeavor to not disappoint a dragon. I might just decide to eat you up."

Felisjyta shook her head and walked over to Vasya. Patrice left them to it, and made her way back to the stands.

Index | First Chapter | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Want to read more? Check us out on Patreon for early access!

#writeblr #writing #tc's writing #dragon's daughter #femslash #queer fantasy #fantasy novels #authors on tumblr