#//I really do miss being able to have her just run around and be coy and meme with everyone

[mickmundy]

spy headcanon thread! just some of my personal thoughts and musings about his character :-) enjoy!

starting off by saying that spy is Absolutely Everything to me.. i've put his thread off for so long because i have SO much to say and im afraid i'll leave stuff out BUT we're going to take a Stab at it (😏) and i guess i'll just add more stuff later if i need! As Usual this is just pasted from my twitter so i'm sorry for any wonky formatting issues!

the most important thing to me about spy's character is that it is Varied and can be Contradictory. i say this about all of the mercs tbh but spy is among the Most important given his role/occupation as a spy. he IS A Spy, but he's also Just Some Guy (gender neutral).

spy is a bit dry; very sarcastic, a bit stoic, but he's definitely not heartless. i think he's very "emotionally in-tune" to those around him and prides himself on being able to read a room exceptionally well!

... but just because he knows what people might be thinking doesn't mean he's going to do anything about it! he likes being in the know but seldom ever enjoys interfering; it's best if he keeps out of the fray, or so he tells himself!

that being said, i Do think spy makes exceptions to this rule (which To Me is what makes his character Interesting!).... as we see in expiration date! he spends his "last living days" helping scout become a worthy date for miss pauling!

if he sees someone Floundering or really stuck in some kind of emotional squander, he'll pass by with a hand on the shoulder and a concise, discreet, kind word of advice in their ear and move on. no need for thanks, he's just Sharing an Observation! if you try to thank him, he'll give you a coy look and be like "for what?" but he knows. he's just letting you know you don't need to thank him <3

loves breaking balls. he'll help you if you ask him, but not before he gives you a LOT of shit for it. he'll volunteer himself to help you (even if you tell him you need his Stinking Help!) and he'll roll his eyes and say "ha! you are So helpless! i know you're glad i'm here to see this through with you uUu" LOL

but he will give you genuine insight and Surprisingly Good advice. huh, you didn't know he knew you so well! despite his job as a spy, he'll tell you to be authentic and will encourage you to listen to your instincts.

is an Observer First and an Action-taker second. prioritizes being in the know and likes being in the background (despite how good he is at being in the spotlight!). always thinks before he speaks, very calculated in everything he does!

got wiser with age. when he was younger i think he was quick to save his own skin and thought only about himself. among his first "selfless" acts were running out on scout and his mom to "protect" them, but with the wisdom of hindsight, that wasn't the smartest idea!

firmly believes in the power of respect. seems to have a positive relationship with all of his teammates (yes, even sniper, engineer and pyro lol) and scout's mom, too (regardless of how u see their relationship). tells scout that he has to earn pauling's respect to be worthy of her!

won't hesitate to stick his neck out for/work with people he appreciates. in the comics, he works with (and even prioritizes the safety of) miss pauling, helps sniper, and obviously comforts scout when he's dying in the way that Scout would want to be comforted. good job pops!

which brings me to dadspy... how i love you... i could make an entire other thread about my dadspy thoughts BUT i'll keep it "brief" here. i don't think he ever "treated scout like shit" nor do i think he was abusive to scout's mom or scout. he's just the world's most mediocre absent father to me... KDSKF

i think scout's mom knew What Spy Was and knew that at some point, he'd have to leave her. i think she's a perfectly capable woman who spy is genuinely still in love with (they have an open, long-distance relationship!) and is quite the deadly catch herself! perhaps i'll make a thread on her if that's something people would want....

i don't think she resents spy for running out and i think spy has complicated feelings about running out. he's convinced himself he did it for everyone involved's safety but in hindsight he Does feel a Bit (emphasis on Bit. it's not Earth Shatteringly Dramatic, just a little demon that sneaks up on him now and then...) guilty and tries to "make up for it" by Trying to get along with scout even if it's... not easy LOL. him turning into tom jones when scout died was to comfort scout the way Scout would want, which i think says a lot about spy's character.

however, once scout finds out the truth, i think he tells spy that he shouldn't have lied to him about it ("what kind of dumbass lies to their son on his deathbed! 🧍") and spy's like "ah... i suppose that... was also a mistake." and they smirk/smile at each other.. Road To Forgiveness begins..

also i personally love the running gag that everyone knows that spy is scout's dad (except for scout), not because i think spy would tell all/even some of the mercs but because it's SO obvious that all of them are like "i mean yeah.. doy". extra points if their knowledge Also surprises spy. "WHO TOLD YOU? HOW DID YOU KNOW?!" and the mercs are like ??? "erm... we have eyes...?" LOL

DESPITE being Stoic and Unknowable and Mysterious, he is also Quite the Doofus. one of my favorite and most important thoughts on his character. i think his authentic laugh is his snort laugh and i think that's what made scout's mom fall in love with him... :') has a great sense of humor.

loves playing pranks, causing mischief and being a Smug Cunt. will hide behind his Carefully Crafted Facade, but those who really know him (heavy, scout's mom) can see right through it! teaches scout some of his "best ones" (though not before pranking HIM with them first! it's okay though. scout's a good sport and gives him props LMAO)

a short list of spy's "best ones":

cleaning a glass door REALLY well and tricking the mercs to run into it at full force

oil on the kitchen floor so that anyone who comes running in will slam into the oven that engineer Just Fixed God Dammit! and destroy it

mentos in soda

scout and spy have the "same laugh" when they REALLY start howling. snorting, wheezing.... they sound almost identical. usually if they're laughing THAT hard, the rest of the mercs are looking at them like this >__> (covered in soda, can't get up from the ground because oil, etc)

obviously enjoys literature! language is one of his favorite things, though. loves learning about different dialects, slang, accents and learning the intricacies of grammar, too! likes studying the other mercs for this reason. the base is a fun, mixed bag for him!

the best secret keeper. contrary to popular belief, spy will NOT air your business if it's Serious. he might "let it slip" to medic that sniper sleeps with a stuffed animal, but he won't let anyone know that heavy has ptsd. he likes giving people shit, but not genuinely causing harm!

ah.. breaking balls as a love language.. this is something that i think is shared between spy, scout, and scout's mom. they LOOOOVE to give you shit, but it comes from a loving place. i think a lot of scout and spy's banter in exp date is like this:

it's not actually Insulting to either of them (spy calling scout a failure, scout telling spy to go to hell, etc) and is in fact more like a thing of Endearment. if you know people like this then you know what i'm talking about. idk how else to describe it KSDFKS

he is very girlfailure that thinks he's a girlboss but is actually a girlfailure and is coming to terms with his girlfailing. as i've said, spy isn't heartless. he knows he's made mistakes and knows his job has costed him a lot and now he's trying to reconcile with it. sometimes it's funny, sometimes its angsty!

is a total foodie and has a LOT of opinions about all kinds of cuisine! loves cooking with engineer and pyro (YES i think pyro is an INCREDIBLE chef. they only burn things because it's fun/funny! for the bit. you understand), and heavy has a perfect palette (just a personal hc of mine heh) so he always gets to tag along and taste test! <3

if spy is involved with any of the other mercs, scout's mom knows about it. they're in an open relationship and spy values her just like he'd value any of the mercs in a romantic relationship. she knows all of them and they're all very polite to her (ala like they are with miss pauling), but she quickly surprises them by being snarky and playful like spy and scout! she also doesn't hesitate to begin telling the mercs the most Humiliating Dirt on spy AND scout! HEHEHE

i don't think he'd cheat on her nor do i think he'd bother cheating on any of his partners. he's very open with communication when it comes to his interpersonal relationships (this is ironic to everyone but him because his relationship with his son is currently in shambles). he's good at it when it comes to romantic relationships though!

his love languages are, well, any and all of them! he loves being in love, he's a huge romantic and is not shy about showing it. will absolutely DROWN his partner in gifts and pretty words (that he really does mean!) and so on... perhaps to the point of it being a little overwhelming! at his partner's request, he'll dial it back... but he still loves to spoil his lovers, and THAT is something he WON'T apologize for! >:)

as i touched on earlier, has a good rapport with all of the mercs and pauling. he's patient with soldier and the other mercs hear him out about the bucket list idea (and are all Quietly Amused by how scout promptly ruins that for him. team dynamic ykwim). i think he's the closest with heavy (i'm a spoovy enjoyer), engineer, pyro, and sniper (BUT in kind of a "unique" way. perhaps i'll elaborate) but he enjoys the company of all of the other mercs as well!

is Informed about engineer's, demoman's and medic's research (though not on the levels they are of course) and likes being in the know about things going on around the base. he mostly shares enemy intelligence with these three over anyone else. they talk frequently and Love to gossip (engineer SWEARS its not gossiping but demo and medic are like "no. its gossip!" SKDFKSDF)!

will absolutely always enable you to treat yourself. scout, spy, medic and demo are the KINGS of "go on!! treat yourself!! :D" no matter what it is. if spy sees you really struggling about whether to get something, he'll slip it in with his own purchases and gift it to you later. "this one is from me, so you don't need to worry about compromise. <3"

in battle, he's a bit more sadistic than his teammates; likes making people squirm and is more than capable of getting under your skin. information extraction is part of his job and he treats it as such: Part Of The Job. he doesn't get a LOT of pleasure from hurting others, but he Does enjoy starring in a good revenge tale!

no, i do NOT think the world's most absent father cares about his 30 year old son's sex life nor do i think he's even "fiercely overprotective" of scout just in general. i think he knows scout is a grown man who has to make (and account for) any failures and fumbles he makes in his life. he'll be there with a kind word (and a few snarky ones!) when shit hits the fan, but he's not running around fighting scout's battles for him. scout loves battling too much to let him anyway! LOL

he teaches him things that Spy Himself values (like respect) because he... values it and since spy IS trying to be a bit more of a Dad to scout, it's also a reflection on him (to spy. scout doesn't care or think of it that way). insists on the value of self improvement! (something he himself didn't learn until he was Much Older... but scout doesn't need to know that!)

[inkedroplets]

16!!!!!!!

16. Is there any written scene that you think about a lot?

So, a little context. the premise of the fic is that Lena gets cold feet about Non Nocere, but is hurting so much that she makes a deal with J'onn's brother to give him his freedom if he erases all her memories of Kara Danvers. It would have a domino effect of her forgetting everyone else as well since she met them through Kara. She would retain her memories of Supergirl however. But with their relationship frosty at best, she moves back to Metropolis without anything (Kara) keeping her there.

Kara would only be able to talk to Lena as Supergirl due to the risk that she might dredge up the memories that J'onn's brother erased . Pretty much what happened to Alex when she erased her memories of Kara but with the caveat that Lena doesn't want to remember so it's even more dangerous for her. Lena does actually manage to have a happy life in Metropolis. She even gets a girlfriend. But there's something missing that keeps bothering her. Dreams that she can't remember very well, ones that has her waking up in tears. Anyway the scene in question has Kara acting as a bodyguard for Lena, she's perched atop the penthouse roof after there's a threat on Lena's life. Lena takes the protection very begrudgingly and she spends it having an evening in with her girlfriend while Kara can overhear everything.

“There is something I’ve been meaning to ask you,” Tatsu said, peering at Lena over the rim of her wine glass. She flashed her a slightly coy half-smile, not quite meeting Lena’s gaze although not actively shying from it either.

“You didn’t intentionally wait for me to have a couple glasses of wine before asking me, did you?” Lena teased. “If so, you might want to hold off until I’ve had a few more.” She arched an eyebrow, tracing her index finger alongside the rim of her glass. 

“Am I that transparent?” Tatsu grinned toothily. “I meant to ask you when we first met, actually, but it slipped my mind… Somehow.” Her smile shrunk, became more secretive and her gaze flickered away. “Flattery will get you everywhere,” Lena murmured, trying to mask the blush rising in her cheeks by pouring herself another glass of wine. “Fire away.”

“Nothing earth-shattering,” Tatsu assured her, running a hand lazily through her hair, a habit of hers that Lena had grown quite fond of. “Why did you move back to Metropolis? It was so sudden,” she added quickly, sounding slightly panicked as if she regretted asking Lena in the first place. “It was,” Lena agreed. She pursed her lips, momentarily lost in thought “I shouldn’t have asked.” Tatsu reached out and gave Lena’s arm a squeeze. “No,” Lena said and let out a little puff of laughter. “It’s really nothing, I just feel a little foolish, is all. I had my own reasons for moving to National City in the first place.” “Okay,” Tatsu said carefully, her hand still wrapped gently around Lena’s forearm. “I was watching TV and Supergirl was on the news and I don’t know why but I just had this idea, this stupid idea that we could work together. That all the good I wanted to do, we could do together.” She smiled sheepishly, not quite able to meet Tatsu’s gaze. “After Lex, I thought that I could undo some of the damage he caused, put more good into the world. A Luthor and a Super working together…” She chuckled. “Maybe I expected too much from both of us…” “Why her?” Tatsu asked. “Why not save yourself the agony of packing and strike up a partnership with Superman? Truth, Justice and a stick up his butt,” she said and toasted him. “I told you it was stupid,” Lena said and shook her head, raising her glass halfheartedly along with her. “I don’t know… Maybe I thought she would be different. That she could look past me being a Luthor and see me for me. Regardless, I figured out that we work much better as the ‘break glass in case of emergency’ kind of associates.” “Her loss.” Tatsu gave her a shy kind of shrug but didn’t shy away from her gaze. “Because you are very good company.” “Now I know you’ve had too much,” Lena fired back, pretending to make a grab for the bottle but smiling while she did so. “And you didn’t make any friends while you were there?” Tatsu asked, looking far more at ease.

“I didn’t go there to make friends,” Lena said, grinning. “And you’ve been around me long enough to know that most people give me a wide berth”

“Present company excluded.”

“For whatever reason,” Lena fired back, grinning.“Honestly, I don’t know why I moved back… I just woke up one day and realized that nothing was keeping me there and it just made sense to come back here…”

[monsterologist-butslutty]

You respond to an ad for a surprisingly affordable apartment and end up living in a building meant for monsters.

At first you think it's a mistake. You've never been good at reading the fine print. When you got to the showing and realized every single current resident (who, strangely, all came out to meet you?) is a monster, you figured you just missed an asterisk on the ad. When you got the call that you got the apartment, you assumed they made a mistake. You almost pointed it out but the apartment is surprisingly affordable. And so close to where you work. So you move in anyway.

You learn that this was not a mistake quite abruptly one afternoon. You're hanging out in your buildings little courtyard area with a few of the other residents and one of them, a harpy who is usually sweet and kind and patient, snaps a little bit. The problem is, she can smell your arousal, and she knows how turned on you are just by being in close proximity to these monsters and she's tired of you, as she sees it, playing coy.

You're laughing at someone else's joke when she suddenly snaps "How long are we all gonna dance around the real reason you live here?" And your face goes bright red. You hadn't really considered any of the residents would have a problem with you taking advantage of the property manager's mistake. You haven't yet realized what she's really talking about.

"C'mon dude," One of the others scolds, but he doesn't sound like he really means it and, even if he does, she's not having it.

"I can smell your arousal from here," She accuses, "And I find it hard to believe you don't know how you ended up as the only human here."

You're absolutely mortified. It never occured to you that monsters might be able to smell your arousal. More than that, you're confused. You ask her what she's talking about, and she snorts. She doesn't believe you don't know. She stands up and comes towards you and for a second you think you might run but you don't. Because you want to know what she's going to do.

She grabs you by the hair, her talons scratching at your scalp not enough to injure, but enough to threaten. There's a little spike of panic. An even greater spike of arousal. She inhales deeply and you know she knows.

You're not far from the picnic table. She uses your hair to pull you towards it. You tell her to wait, more as a reflex than a genuine wish that she will wait, but she ignores you. Next thing you know you've been pushed onto the picnic table so you're kneeling on the bench, bent over the table with your ass in the air and your face pressed against the wood. And then her knee is between your thighs, forcing your legs wide and pressing against you so perfectly it takes every ounce of willpower you have not to rock your hips.

One of your other neighbors – you can't see who, and the sound of your heart pounding in your ears makes it hard to differentiate voices – makes a half hearted protest. You twist as best you can, sure you'll have a cheek full of splinters when you're done, and realize it's the werewolf who lives just down the hall from you. You also realize that he's hard. Everyone else in the courtyard with you seems just as... interested in what's happening.

One of the Harpy's hands is at the waistband of your jeans then, slipping between the fabric and your skin, talons scratching across your hips. And some part of you knows you could insist she stops. But you don't want that.

Instead, you arch your back to push your hips toward her and release the quiet moan that's been building since the moment she grabbed your hair. Your movements drag against the feathers along her leg in a way that is, judging by the sound she makes, comparable to the sensation of her talons on your skin. You roll your hips again.

She rewards you by using the grip she has on your hair to pull you backwards even as her leg pushes forward, pinning you between her limbs and forcing your chin off the table, your back curving painfully tight. You don't mind so much. Even through your jeans, the pressure from her leg is dizzying and the ease with which she can manhandle your body into whatever position she wants has already left you panting.

"Well?" She asks.

It takes you a moment to realize she's asking you. Another second to realize what she's asking you. You try to nod, but short of a few strands of hair pulling free of your scalp, you can't manage it. You whine, but she doesn't let up.

"Yes."

It comes out a bit squeaky, but it's all the encouragement anyone needs.

[chloexquinn]

Chloe scoffed with a smile. “Absolutely not. Your choreography was boring enough. Why would I bore myself with the yawn fest you call your personal life.” Chloe took a quick glance down at her manicured nails while Brooke spoke not bothering to make eye contact while responding. “I’d think twice about that. Who’d want to be with a slut who’s allergic to loyalty? A man who has to resort to dating down because he can't get women his own age? Once again hun, nothing new, nothing interesting, nothing exciting.” She said giving Brook a cold smile once her eyes met the blonde's once more. “Let me debunk that theory for you right now. I’ve never faked an orgasm. Unlike yourself I don’t let just anything into my body and I don’t need to. I’m not desperate, that’s your thing. The men I’ve been with are hardly pubescent. You should know, your boyfriend is one of them...Oops, I meant ex boyfriend.” Fuck being coy at this point. Brooke could think whatever she wanted as long as it hurt her.

“And what would I have to be jealous of? The school skank who had to resort to fucking someone born in the stone ages just to get an ounce of self esteem? I’m good. Your assumptions much like your double down, are weak." Chloe glared at Brooke once she got closer to her, making a mental note not to step back. It was a reflex for most people but Chloe knew she had to stand her ground She would not give Brooke the impression that she was intimidated, because she wasn't. Not in the slightest. The curly haired brunette threw her head back and laughed while swatting at the air in front of her. “Okay one, I’d change toothpaste brands because whatever you’re using clearly isn’t doing it for you, and two my squad is thriving right now while you’re doing what exactly? Sitting on your ass getting shit drunk all by yourself doing absolutely nothing. Which honestly isn’t that different from how you were at East Mount.”

Her brow arched at Brooke's next comment. That just made her hunger for winning grow even more. Competitiveness made Chloe dangerous. Even more so than she already was. There was a fire in her brown iris' as she spoke. “Oh, I’ll be crying alright, of laughter." We'll see who's the real basic bitch is around here.  "You can call me whatever you want Brooke, but one thing you’ll never be able to say I am, is a cheater.” And it was true. Chloe had never cheated on a boyfriend, whether it was through text, voice note or face to face she’d always made sure to break things off before running off with the next guy. Though of course that was only because she didn’t trust anyone and didn’t want word getting around. Chloe may be a cold hearted bitch, but one thing that everyone could agree on was that she was smart. Tactful. Calculated. She had a motive and reason behind absolutely everything she did. And if what she was doing made her seem kinder than she appeared to be, even though she was the farthest thing from kind, that was just icing on the cake. Chloe never slipped up. And even if she left a few tracks she was going to make sure they were covered. 

“I mean, you’re a much better person than me, right?” She asked taking slow steps towards Brooke. That was certainly how Chloe felt everyone else perceived her. One thing Brooke seemed to have that Chloe didn't was a moral compass. Surely she had to feel the least bit guilty and ashamed about what she did.  “Well little miss perfect, if you’re such an angel, why’d you cheat on Jake?” She asked slowly beginning to circle around her as she spoke. At this point, she was just playing mind games. Saying things she thought would get the other girl winded up. “Why’d you sleep with that professor when you knew there was a chance he’d get fired? I mean, was what I did really so awful? All I did was tell everyone the truth. Let people see the real you. And you can hate me all you want Brooke but you can’t deny that you’re in this position because of your actions. So go ahead, join the pathetic excuse for a team that your school has to offer. You’re a big girl, you can make your own decisions. But instead of playing the victim, I suggest you grow up and start acting like it. I’m not sure how far this whiny little poor me act will get you at your new school.”

There was no greater insult than being called basic, by another girl. Nobody wants to be that. Especially not Brooke. Her mother had constantly gone awol, always chasing the next big bender, while her father cared more about his public image and campaign than he ever did about either of them. The only time Brooke ever felt wanted or loved, was when she was in the arms of a boy or at the top of their cheer pyramid.

Basic wasn’t a word many would've used when often describing her. Not until now, that is. And sure, maybe Chloe’s opinion didn’t matter all that much because she was truly the more bitter one between the two. But, if that were also the case then why did the insult trigger such a knee jerk reaction?

On top of that, Brooke was well aware that while her instagram account and social media presence remained stagnant, Chloe’s was climbing to new heights. She hadn’t necessarily passed Brooke yet but she was well on her way. Rather than do something about it, Brooke was too busy feeling sorry for herself. She was sulking because of her new miserable life at her new miserable school. When what she should’ve been doing was learning how to cope with it.

Her reputation wasn’t ruined completely. It was just going off in a new direction. And what she should have done, is lean into it. Stick it to the man, or to Chloe and the entire student body at East Mount. If they all truly thought she was a slut, she’d be the biggest, skankiest, hottest slut there was. Let Jake forge a relationship with Chloe and then when the other girl least expects it, Brooke will swoop in and fuck her boyfriend.

“I think it’s YOU who’s more invested in MY personal life.” Brooke gave a sarcastic, almost bored yawn. “Is that all you’ve got? So, I fucked our Professor, big whoop. He had a huge dick and knew what to do with it. That’s more than I can say for any of the prepubescent creeps you hang around with. But, if you enjoy mediocre sex and faking your orgasms, then that’s on you. And I feel sorry for you.” Though, Brooke was beginning to wonder if Chloe’s ever even had sex. Considering how perverse she made Brooke feel about enjoying it.

“Maybe you’re just jealous because he picked me and all the guys you’re interested in, wanna fuck me over you.” It wasn’t mentioned outright just then, but she was implying Jake again. “Nobody’s bitter but you, hun. Because deep down you know, if I was still there —-“ Brooke paused momentarily to lean in closer to Chloe’s cheek, so she could whisper softly in the other girl’s ear “—you wouldn’t have any of this.” Meaning their squad, her newfound popularity, and someone to keep her on her A game.

After leaning back out, Brooke took another long swig of her drink before she looked over at Chloe, accepting her challenge. “You know, I think I will join Westham’s cheer squad. Just so I can watch you cry at Regionals when we wipe the floor with you. Then we’ll see who’s the real basic bitch around here. My guess is, that’s going to be you.” It wasn’t usually like Brooke to use such profane language. She was much more classy than that. But Chloe brought out the viciousness in her.

[fatebreaking-a]

on the musician and magic and the crown and all of it

One of the major things to pay attention to is the simple fact that no one ever calls out the musician. Not in lore, not in voice lines, the closest thing we get is morg’s voice line to her (which again doesn’t talk about her magic, but her existence, her being, her soul sings for a forgotten world or whatnot)

So you consider that okay she’s at least not in the public eye for magic. We would have heard something about it, right? Something? So she’s not on the magic people registry and isn’t confirmed to be a mage and somehow the mageseekers haven’t noticed either. Somehow. So she’s either weak enough to pass by without notice or strong enough to hide her magic or make people look the other way.

And there’s an argument for her being strong, not just in the implication that she can manipulate people’s feelings in her bio, but in the Call of Power short w/ the Rune Mage. She’s strong enough to help him, at least. To lift people up in the air with one chord.

So she’s strong. And she’s willing to go out of her way to help Ryze, a mage, deal with world-threatening problems. Which means she’s not against mages in general, and she’s got a global perspective at least. She sees beyond Demacia (which makes sense, as the Ionia-Noxus conflict should strongly affect her perception - one may make a case that Morg’s quote to her is referencing her old home which is burned and forgotten but it’s all conjecture at this point).

So what does a fairly strong magician who sees that there are problems globally to be worried about do when faced with a home city that would rebuke her, throw her in chains, or exile her? She doesn’t join the Mage Rebellion, clearly. She also doesn’t join the Crown. These are statements based on a lack of evidence. She’s not hunting mages (and it wouldn’t make sense to, because she’s okay with other mages). But she’s not in rebellion, or we would have heard something about it. Right now, Sylas is pretty solitary in the cast in his rebellion.

So. She’s somehow existing in Demacia out of notice or she’s still out handling world problems and probably taking notes from Ryze. Both these things would make sense. But her perspective gives her a very clear understanding of this fact:

Magic is an unavoidable force in the world.

Demacians can deny it all they like, but the World Runes don’t care about petricite. Lux and Sylas don’t care about petricite. There are bigger, larger problems to be dealt with. For instance, the Void (arguably the true big bad of Runeterra). Ignoring all of that seems petty. Feels petty. And as she is expressed to be a highly empathetic individual (Morg’s quote, her biography all imply she is a very soulful, sympathetic character), she also can’t ignore the pain that is being caused to her people.

So if you ask me, okay how does Sona feel...

She feels out of place.

She feels like she’s being dragged into the petty conflicts of the world, hurting as her people hurt, forced to watch the crown make stupid decisions and for the mage rebellion to make stupid decisions and for everyone to get hurt. She blames Jarvan, who she feels is charismatic but afraid to really bring about the change she believes he could. She knows he’s trying his best, and has sympathy towards him, but at the same time doesn’t understand how he can ignore a significant portion of his people’s plight for this long.

She feels the fearmongering about mages, that’s what got Garen and Vayne started on their paths. Lucian too. That all this hatred and fear and lack of proper understanding, it clumps everyone together.

She thinks that people are afraid of bad mages, but are unable to differentiate between a good and a bad mage. Like someone who is afraid to go outside in the morning because they were mugged once, Demacia appears to her as a collection of people that think “one’s rotten, they’re all rotten.”

That there are laws of stone, petricite clasps, any of those things. It’s a hypocritical admission that magic exists and needs to be branded, while denying it in the same sentence. But the unlawful, the ‘bad ones’, they won’t care about the laws of anti-magic. They won’t bother, they won’t care. So this fear mongering, who it hurts most... Are people who are afraid of their own power and don’t want to hurt anyone.

People like Lux. People like Sona. People like Sylas - who he once was.

She feels Demacia is making bad decisions at every turn and she feels powerless to stop it, but also worried at how involved she’s getting in what seems like an unwinnable fight. If she can help on a grander scale, shouldn’t she? If she can actually make a difference in other places, shouldn’t she? Cruelty begets suffering, suffering begets cruelty (and violence).

But she’s incapable of pulling herself away from the suffering of her people. This is what makes her so stuck. She can’t pull away. She can’t dive deeper. And there are always eyes on her, suspicious of her but unable to confirm her magic.

So if she’s in Demacia, she’s kept quiet about her magic. If she’s not, then she’s trying to help the world in her own way. But she can’t be out in the open about the world runes, about other threats, about the void - because that would require an explanation that would put her at risk of being thrown in jail.

All of this is a big reason why I see her kind of aligned with Morgana so much, but also caught between the position of those two sisters. At some point this walked away from ‘canon’ and into ‘conjecture’, but I just don’t know how to place Sona.

She’s someone who’s clearly capable of doing great things, but doesn’t. One of the questions that needs answering is why. What is it that’s keeping her from going out and doing more amazing things? Personal attachment? Love for her people? Because in Call of Power, she’s the most out of the way. Unlike Nasus in Shurima or MF on a ship (probably in Bilgewater) or Trundle in the Freljord, she’s clear across the world - Demacia and Ionia are on opposite edges. And make no mistake, Demacia is her home. Ionia may be her birthplace and she may be Ionian in terms of ethnicity, but she is a Demacian.

Too many questions, not enough answers.

I do miss when Sona could simply be a ‘hidden mage’ and still run around Demacia hugging everyone. When that was a reasonable, possible thing. But lore updates have made that very, very improbable and that makes her much harder to write in a clean, wholesome way. Any time anyone learns about her magic, it’s under context A: Demacian so there’s a lot of pain and secrecy and suffering or B: outside Demacia and she needs to make sure to keep herself covert and not incite too many questions or else she might not be able to go home.

Because Demacia is her home. Despite everything. It’s where she comes from. Where she grew up. And she has to balance ‘doing the right thing’ and ‘losing the one place in the world she has left’.

Because she doesn’t have Ionia. She doesn’t have her biological family. She doesn’t have wherever she comes from (see Morg’s quote). She doesn’t have her adoptive parents (implied but not confirmed Lestara’s dead from IoW/JoJ days, this could go either way). All she has left is this one place on all of Runeterra, her tiny little home. And it hates her, but she loves it.

[macybeckham7]

Confetti

part two

‘Why are you so nervous?’ Trent laughs as he could sense how nervous YN was in the passenger seat. ‘They’ll be so excited to see you’ he says.

As he pulls up infront of the Alexander Arnold’s household, the curtain moves and by the time they climb out and YN has a bouquet of flowers they were all running through the door.

‘Hello beautiful girl!’ Dianne beams, and pulling you into a tight hug. Her hands holding your face as she beams at you. Michael telling his wife to stop hogging you and hugging you.

You fell in love with the whole family, you absolutely adored them. So when you broke up with Trent, you weren’t just missing a boy you adored but also a safety blanket that the family provided.

‘How are you feeling about the tour?’ Michael asks.

‘Nervous’ you giggle. ‘We haven’t toured since 2020’ you explain.

Trent reaches for your hand. ‘It’ll be like riding a bike, you don’t forget how to do it’

‘And if you forget a move, just look to the first row for Marcel, he knows all the dances’ Tyler mocks, pulling a goofy face at the youngest brother.

The table erupt in laughter as Marcel looks down at his plate of food.

‘Does this mean you two have found each other again?’ Dianne asks as she packs you both off with leftovers.

You look over at Trent. You haven’t really spoke about it. You have been living with each other the past month, you have been going to Liverpool matches. Despite trying to keep in low-key you always kept getting spotted. Trent even came to a few Little Mix meetings. He came to the whole Madame Tussaud’s fitting and was so gassed about it all. Neither of you have brought up the topic of ‘what are we’ just enjoying being around each other.

‘Thank you for dinner’ you smile. You wave everyone goodbye as Trent backs out. ‘Told you they’ll be happy to see you, nothing could go as bad as the actual first meeting’ he says sticking his tongue out.

You let out a groan and hide your face in your hands at that awkward situation.

….

‘I’ll stand in for her’ Jordan runs over to the three girls who was just about to go from the top. He holds his water bottle as a microphone, and as soon as the music starts he puts on his best YN.

‘This is a shout out to my ex’ he sings. Heard he in love with some other chick’ he gives off a little scoff, entertaining everyone. ‘Yeah, yeah, that hurt me, I'll admit. Forget that boy, I'm over it’

You walk into the studio and watches as he dances around with Jade.

‘More sass’ Perrie laughs, and shows him how you do the move with him coping.

‘I hate you all’ you mock which makes everyone laugh. ‘Jords you can take my spot if you really wanna, I’ll be in Rizzle Kicks and give the fans what they want with a comeback’ you smile.

Later on you were all in the studio with the band to do the rock version of Women Like Me. You all losing your minds at how good it sounds, you all showing off your vocals and rocking out to the guitar. You all jump around in a huddle with excitement.

‘We good to put that in the set list then?’ Leigh asks with us nodding. The pressure of putting all the bangers into list and also adding fan favourites too. Leigh and Jade have been trying to fight to get Joan Of Arc in there but it hasn’t been successful yet.

‘I can’t have them three songs together because I won’t be able to get through them’ Jade says as we try to find the best arrangement.

After a while, everyone was happy with the set list. YN reached out for the phone, you let out a giggle reading a text from Trent which got the attention from Leigh.

‘What is going on with you and lover boy?’ she asks with a smirk.

They have all been a fan of Trent. They always saying he was your nicest ex.

‘Nothing’

Perrie scoffs. ‘That’s not what Alex has been saying’. Thought Trent would play in coy. ‘Trent has been going into training with loads of hickeys’

Jade and Leigh both squeal. ‘You little minx’ They pounce making them lay over you.

‘I don’t want to be next to your room, I remember how loud the two of you can be’ Perrie mocks with Jade mimicking your moans, with the three of them bursting in tears of laughter.

…..

Last night you and Perrie went to Anfield to support the boys, you being complete hooligans celebrating the goals and shouting at the ref, chanting with the fans, and just going through the rollercoaster with them. After the game you all went to the pitch and was having a little kickabout. The video of you and Perrie rugby tackling each other and scoring and doing different celebrations. You and Trent playing with Axel and just being the maniacs everyone knew you were.

‘I have missed you in my jersey’ Trent smirks as you give him a little spin. He gave it to you after the game after he scored and did a dance which was the last thing you told him to do the next time he scored (before you broke up). You laughing when you saw him and telling him that you couldn’t believe it that he remembered.

…..

You were just staring at your phone as you watched the 12 digit number light up the screen. You had deleted the number but you had memorised the number by heart, but you didn’t have the courage to accepting it and listening to what they had to say. You had just come out of a meeting about your future after Little Mix. You were on the way home to start packing for tour life, which was definitely going to be different from the last. You would come off the stage, get on the tour bus back to the hotel and then hit the tour. Dance on the dance floors, your aching feet was no longer achey. We have already decided a movie and desserts was the best way to do it now.

You climb onto the tour bus, hugging all the Since September boys, happy to see them all again. You adored them on Little Mix: The Search and you couldn’t wait for them to support you and the girls. You sat beside Jade who was in a Fifa game with one of the boys. You start jamming out on the guitar as you travel up the Motorway on the way to Belfast.

‘Can you remember your first tour?’ Jacob asks.

The girls look at each other all nodding and giggling.

‘When we wore our names on our shirts’ Leigh laughs.

‘And we had done this campaign with a hair dye company and we all had really bad hair styles’ Perrie laughs with Jade sassing back ‘Talk for yourself’.

[high-functioning-lokipath]

I should be sleeping but no... I have another idea lol (I think I'm done now sorry)

Y/n works in one of the labs at the avengers complex and ends up being friends with Loki. She goes out with Wanda, Nat and Jane and they ask her why she's keeping it a secret that she's dating Loki. She's confused and they bring up the fact that he brings he coffee almost every morning, they get lunch together all the time and they spend their free time on the weekends going to museums or visiting places in the city. She has excuses for everything like he brings her coffee cause she's always late or if he didn't get lunch with her she would forget to eat. She suddenly freaks out and tries to figure out if she's dating Loki and wondering if he knows...

“Girls day!” The five of you yelled, excitedly hurrying out to your car for the day. Tony, Thor, and even Vision sighed heavily in relief when you all finally left.

“Thank god for ‘girls day’,” Tony said, holding up his glass to the others. “We'll finally be able to get stuff done around here!”

Meanwhile, you and the girls headed out first to the salon. Your group consisted of Wanda, Nat, Jane, Pepper, and, of course, yourself. As you all got your hair done, the conversation started flowing. The stylist asked Pepper something about what it's like being married to Iron Man, then that led to questions about Jane and Thor, and Wanda and Vis, skipped Nat because everyone knew better, and then finally landed on you. “What about you, Y/N?” Your stylist asked you.

“No one yet,” You chuckle. The other girls groan and stare at them confusedly. “What?”

“Oh come on, Y/N! We all know about you and you-know-who,” Wanda replies with a wink. You raise your brows and Nat frowns at you.

“Don’t play coy, Y/N. It doesn’t take a spy like me to tell.” As the 5 of you walk over to the tables for your manicures, you rack your brain as to who they could be referring to. In all honesty, you had no boyfriend. The only man you were close to was Loki. But he was your best friend!

“Nat, Wanda, girls, I really don’t know what you mean,” You say, settling in for your manicure.

“Y/N,” Pepper says, adding in her two cents. “I know Tony’s like your extra dad. And I know he’s not he’s not very comfortable with Loki, but Tony will come around. And I certainly have nothing against him. He’s a good man now.”

“And we’d be sister-in-laws!” Jane pipes up. You are silent in panic. You and Loki dating? You couldn’t deny how wonderful that sounded. But he didn’t like you like that! Did he?

“Why do you guys think I’m dating Loki?” You exclaim.

“Well,” Wanda says, thinking about it. “Lots of reasons.”

“What reasons?”

“This is a job for me,” Nat says, turning towards you. “He brings you coffee almost every morning. You two get lunch together all the time and spend your free time on the weekends going to museums or visiting places in the city. And every time he brings you coffee or food, you always have some excuse! You’re running late so he picked it up for you or you have so much to do that you would forget to eat if he didn’t bring you your food. And you say he’s 'just doing his job as your best friend'.”

“Come on, Y/N,” Jane pleads. “Just be honest with us! I wanna officially have a sister-in-law.”

"I-um-it's-" You stutter, eyes filling with tears. "I have to go," You say frantically.

"Wait! Miss! Your nails aren't-"

You run for a few blocks before your legs give out. You stumble to a bench and sit, head in your hands. You don't know whether to cry or scream. Everything's so confusing. A few minutes later, you hear someone walk up and sit next to you.

"Y/N? Are you okay?" Loki asks, putting his hand on your shoulder comfortingly. You look up at him and start crying harder. "Y/N, what's wrong? Nat texted me and said you were upset, but she didn't explain. What happened?"

"I just wanna go home," You mumble. He nods and picks you up. "Loki! What are you-"

"Taking you home, you're in no shape to walk." With that, he teleports you both to his quarters. He lays you down on the bed, brushing your hair out of your face. "Now, if you feel like talking, I'm here," He says, leaning on the pillows next to you. You nod but don't say a word. Eventually, you doze off into a fitful sleep.

"Y/N! I'm here! Wake up!" Loki yells. You wake up with a start, staring at him as you regain your senses. "Y/N, you were screaming. You were begging me not to go. What happened?"

"I had a nightmare," You reply quietly.

"I gathered as much," Loki replies with a worried smile. "But you-" He frowns, pulling you closer in arms. "You said some interesting things."

"Such as?" You asked, slowly remembering the dream.

"You said you loved me," He said. There was a pregnant silence for the next few seconds as you gathered your thoughts. How were you supposed to reply to that?

"It's all the girls' fault," You mumble. "They got to talking today and asked when you and I would admit we're dating. They said we're a couple because we do everything together and you buy me coffee and-"

"Would you like that?" He asks, interrupting you.

"What? A coffee?"

"No!" He huffs, sitting you up against the headboard and turning to face you. "Would you like to be in a romantic relationship with me?"

You open and close your mouth, stunned by the blunt question. He waits patiently for you to reply. You study his eyes and are surprised to find them twinkling, a hopefulness in them. "Yes," You breathe, smiling at him.

"Good," He replies, letting out a breath he didn't know he was holding. "Good," He murmurs again, cuddling back up with you. "Now all we have to do is figure out how to tell everyone!"

"You'll come up with something," You chuckle, twisting your neck to kiss him softly. "You always do."

"I like that," He says, a grin slowly spreading across his features. "Do it again?"

"Of course, my dear prince. Your wish is my command."

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[jangofctts]

Mirrored Heart (captain rex x fem!reader)

rated: 18+ explicit 

word count: 5.6k

warnings: smut, p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampies, fingering, blow jobs, clone space racism?  

a/n: ANYWAY HERE IT IS. ive had this draft saved since like a year ago and just now finished it. anyway kwjrkejh here YALL GO. also thank you @jango-fettish​ FOR LETTING ME BORROW SYRENA 

It's curious. 

Well, you, as a whole are curious—completely outside the realm of what Rex considers normal. As far as senators go, that is. 

You're grumpy for one—worse than Skywalker and far more snide than Kenobi—a near gargantuan task bordering impossible. Wit and cleverness come to you easier than breathing, but it's your unwavering kindness towards himself and his brothers that sticks out like a blaster burn against alabaster white walls.  

He passed it off as a joke—some sort of mockery. Rex’s existence has been full of them. The past year it’s been made glaringly clear as to what the clones are to the people of the republic—tools. Mindless war machines dressed with flesh and bone, heart and sinew instead of durasteel and a circuitboard. Humanity has been skimmed over with excuses and debates over the hollow argument that clones were created for the sole purpose of war—nothing more. Ignorance is bliss when you are not the one fighting tooth and nail for petty skirmishes and the survival of your family.        

Ithyea, your home monarchal planet, is a newer member of the Galatic Republic—one of the firsts to advocate for clone rights—cutting through each argument with the steel headed javelin of hope and determination. Controversial in the eyes of the galaxy but no less than true. Yet with controversy, comes chaos. 

Wedged between Takodana and the Cerean Reach hyperspace lane—it’s an essential key to accessing more neutral space sectors without stepping on any toes. While the planet does mirror the size of a larger than average moon, there’s nothing but grandeur with the cutting edge advances in space travel and military innovations. An arts district too, one that’s presented multiple times for the Senate apparently. Rex has yet to see it. It’s an easy guess as to why Ithyea has gone under pointed attacks from the Separatists—it’d be foolish not to try.     

And of course comes the intergalactic mess of politics. You are not Ithyea’s first senator. Or second…or third. Just in the last six months, three of your predecessors have been picked off—two disappearances and a suspicious poisoning sandwiched between them. Which sides these assassinations stem from is anybody’s guess—a mix of both perhaps—all to silence and stamp the voice of your people out.

Heavy are the shoulders that wear those abhorrent senatorial robes, and Maker did it take some convincing for another Ithyean to step to the chopping block. It’s just…no one thought  it’d be you. The infamous captain of King Arrian Felian’s elite guard—trained in combat levels high enough to contend some of those within the ranks of the Jedi Order. When your name comes up in conversation, it certainly doesn’t scream diplomacy.     

Rex is not surprised that you hold the current record of Ithyean senators for surviving the longest. Evading an astonishing two attempts on your life by the skin of your teeth. You were just downright lucky the third assassin missed their mark. Sure, the blade of Syrena Aster skimmed the right side of your cheek and left behind a nasty scar to remember her by, but kriff—even with your background and low levels of public presence, you’re a high priced target. Whoever placed an order with the Heretics, really wants to see you six feet under.     

Rex hasn’t been given the full report on exactly who the Heretics are—a rag tag bunch of untrained Force users and skilled assassins from what he’s gathered—but regardless, this attack is just the beginning. Until the Senate and the Jedi are able to retract the price on your head, you’re stuck under protective custody. Usually ushered away into the Jedi Temple or tagging along with General Kenobi and Skywalker. Despondently, no matter the circumstances of your protection, it can’t shield you from the dreadful invitations to senatorial luncheons.

 And yes, you tried to slip by for this one. 

You don't brush elbows with other senator’s like many of the members in the Jedi Order and your own cohort do. In fact, you actively avoid even speaking to them unless necessary, let alone stand in the same room with seven of them. Odd for an elected official of diplomacy such as yourself to be so cold shouldered—Rex would think senators wanted to mingle.    

It's curious because you're standing in plain sight and yet no one pays you any passing thought. General Kenobi and Skywalker hold the majority of their attentions, shoulders already taught with exasperation at keeping everyone from tearing out each other's throats for, kriffing five minutes. Yet you...you are completely at ease, leaning up against a stone pillar, observing the unfolding chaos from afar with a keen eye. 

Before Rex realizes he's stepping towards your position, you glance over and dip your chin in greeting. The ghost of a smirk pulls at your normally grim facade—his heart skips. "Captain."

"Senator," he mimics, posting himself to your right. There’s still a thin, healing scab from the assassin’s blade that extends from the swell of your cheek to your ear. Ouch. “Enjoying the evening?" 

You snort. "Hardly enjoying it, Rex."

Stars—you shouldn't be allowed to say his name. Your words are razor-sharp like a jagged vibroblade, meant to jab and pierce through armor—tear a person to pieces without having to lift a finger. Everything about you is rough, gritty, brutal, unbecoming of what a senator should be, but— 

You mouth his name, purring out the singular syllable with such tenderness that it's like a punch to the gut. 

It's hard to swallow and he needs to clear his throat—an embarrassing act on his part, but your attention has already returned back towards the meandering senators. "How d'you mean?"

"Well," you sigh, "let's just say smalltalk isn’t my strong suit." 

"Aren't you senators s'pposed to like diplomacy n' such?" 

Your thumb smoothes over your bottom lip in thought as you shrug. "Diplomacy? Sure. Politicians? Can’t say I like them. I just—"

You wave your hand around, gesturing vaguely to the crowd. "I just don't understand why they can't say what they mean. Telling someone to have a nice day shouldn't entail certain death, y'know?"

"Speaking from experience?" He teases, gently prying into that harder than beskar wall you've created for yourself. There's fissions in your foundation and he means to tear it down all for just a mere scrap of information. 

Your eyes flick over, your lips curling into a vulpine grin. “Perhaps...Though, it was partially my fault, I have to admit.” 

“You’ll have to tell me the story sometime, Senator.” 

You nod. “Yes, one day—when there aren’t so many political ears jumping at the chance of gossip.” 

A swell of laughter interrupts your chat, your attention gravitating to Obi-Wan—ever the charmer with the crowds. The end of your mouth pulls into a frown as you sigh and carefully scratch at your brow with the back of your thumb. Rex might be pulling at straws, but what he mistook as you being standoffish may just be your nerves. Socially awkward and flustered when speaking in such an intimate setting. 

Rex’s first instinct is to reach out and place a hand over your shoulder in comfort, but he’s not sure how you’ll respond to the touch. Flip him over your shoulder probably—

Instead he forces himself to jumpstart the conversation—something to distract from your anxieties. “I hope you don’t mind me asking—“ His heart beat kicks up into a flurry of wild beats as you turn you head. “What uh..wh—did you want to become a senator?”

He likes it when you smile—like you’re letting him on some sort of coy secret. You shift your weight and shrug. “The king asked me personally. I’m flattered he thinks I’m clever enough—insulted he sends me to these abysmal gatherings like some sort of show pony.”

Rex chuckles. “Yeah, can’t say I like ‘em either.” 

“Although…” Your thumb runs over your lip again, a sparkle of mischief igniting behind your eyes. “As a senator, I do get the occasional tidbit of gossip. Here, I’ll catch you up—“

The captain startles when you snatch his elbow and yank him closer. Maker he’s glad for his helmet because your lips brush against his earpiece as he leans down to reach your height. 

“Look." You whisper, nodding casually in the direction of a particularly young senator with a shock of white hair. She's swathed in a pool of royal blue silk, much too large for her tiny frame, and all but hanging off Skywalker's arm with glittered nails filed into points. "That is Senator Ceci Paare of Corellia. She looks innocent, no?"

She does. Wide, crystalline green eyes stare up at the Jedi Knight as a pretty giggle escapes past her ruby painted lips. Skywalker grimaces. 

"I quite like her," you continue with a sly grin. "Even if she does try to influence public opinion by an invitation to bed." 

There's no time to process as you focus in on an older man. His hazy blue skin, ash white lips and vermillion green eyes cut an almost nightmarish profile, accentuated by mountains of black robes. Rex can’t recall what planet the senator represents. The senator holds his head stiffer than rebar to keep the ornate golden circlet from slipping off, his white lips curling in distaste as Orn Free Taa of Ryloth places a meaty hand over his slender shoulder. 

"He is Lord Tal’en Sol Ra'ah. Cunning, but sympathetic to the pleasures of gambling."

It's a game to you—of perceptions and nuances only a trained eye can roll over. Rex expects nothing less. This sort of thing has been hammered into the very essence of your being since you were little—reading an enemy before they can strike. It works on politicians marvelously well. 

Truth be told Rex should be paying more attention—but the closeness of your face to his helmet is maddening. His heart twists and coils as your bare hand skims along his gloved one—kriff. He’s not gonna make it before he bursts into a thousand little pieces.  

Rex’s spell of lovesick yearning recedes as you swear under your breath. It was only a matter of time before someone approached your little corner.  

"Oh, Maker save me," you hiss under your breath as a young Mirialan saunters over, the swatches of rich red and brilliant gold accentuate his violet skin like a bloody bruise. "Pretend you're speaking with me." 

"I am speaking with you," Rex snorts. 

Your hand waves in dismissal as your brows stitch together, hands balling into fists. Your jaw clenches as the senator in question puts on a dazzling smile. You look downright panicked. Rex has witnessed you face down numerous senators older than dirt and close to blowing away in the wind with plucky fervor, assassination attempts, being held captive, and you're frightened…by this? 

This is too good. 

Rex has half a mind to help you, wheel you away from your little predicament, but his intrigue with seeing your oh-so-solid resolve crumble is much too valuable and entertaining to pass up. He's going to remember this for years.  

"Rex."

"Senator," he mimics, not at all frightened by your poisonous glare. "Some diplomacy might do you good."

You begin to snarl out a threat but are decidedly cut off by your object of horror planting himself before your hiding spot. You cower into the corner like a boxed in loth-cat. "Ah, my favorite Ithyean! I had begun to worry you would not make it, my dear friend."

"Senator Lin," you sigh. The smile you offer is tight and thin; a nervous one much in the same way one would be if presented with a box of toenails for a birthday gift. “How pleasant to see you."

Senator Lin’s deep violet lips part with an easy smile. He waves a hand in dismissal, his silver rings glinting in the warm lighting. "Please—call me Toluka. No need to bother with such formalities between companions." 

Rex suddenly understands your trepidation with the Mirialan—he’s slimy. And, not to mention, not at all ashamed with the lecherous looks as his eyes sweep down your body. Rex clenches his teeth and folds his arms behind his back. He’s regretting not heeding your warning now…  

Try as you might through brutal small talk and chilly answers, Senator Lin refuses to take the hint. A dark plume of venom green lashes through Rex’s chest as the Mirialan places a friendly hand over your shoulder. You grimace as Rex bristles and glares through the visor of his helmet.  

Senator Lin’s lips pull into a gaudy smile as he glances at Rex and then at you.“My dear, don’t you know? It’s not worth wasting your time with a clone. After all, they’re all the same person. How boorish—come join us at the table.”

Your teeth bite into your cheek as your temper, like the silver of blade through the darkness, cuts through your steely irises. With poised nonchalance, you lift your hand and pinch Senator’s Lin’s fingers between your own and pry them off your shoulder. “Is that so?”

“Your campaign, valuable as it may be,” Lin continues, “is a useless endeavor. They are not our equals and never will be--you must know that." 

Rex forces himself to remain calm—collected and certainly not imaging a thousand and one ways he’d like to see his fist breaking the fragile bones of the senator’s face.  

"Fine buttons stitched upon your shoulders do not compel your worth, Senator,” the harshness of your words is a blow straight to Lin’s ego. His well-groomed brows furrow drastically as his tongue struggles to play catch up and find words to repair his shattered pride. 

There’s no chance for Senator Lin to regain his footing as your snatch Rex’s wrist and sweep him out into the hall. Rex can feel your anger roll off of you in waves, frighting and holding the same caliber of roaring waves thundering against black, craggy rocks. It’s a miracle the night didn’t end with your hands wrapped around the senator’s throat or a blaster shot through the chest. 

When you reach the lower halls of the cruise ship is when you release Rex’s wrist. You pinch the bridge of your nose between your fingers and release a long, dramatic sigh.   

"You are worth far more than that pompous ass," you say with enough edge to slice through a droideka's shields. "He has no right to say those things to you." 

“It’s alright,” Rex soothes, placing a hand over your bristling shoulder. “I’ve heard worse.” 

Your features scrunch up into a wince. “That...that doesn’t mean you have to suffer through more of it, Rex.”

Sighing, you run a hand through your hair and loosen the heavy outer robes strung around your shoulders. You shrug out of them and fold the thick swaths of fabric over you arm—revealing the under layers of your uniform. You toss the bundle of fabric to the floor with a disgusted grimace and sit on the cargo crate closest to your left. 

“Really—it’s ok.” Rex assures again. “I—“

You hold up a hand and shake your head. His mouth snaps shut. “I won’t hear it. To me you are nothing short of perfect and I refuse to argue about it. Maker knows I already do that for a kriffing living.”

There’s a fragile lull in the hollow space—the distant chatter of voices and strange music collecting in the corners. You stand once again, toe to toe with the Captain and there it is again, that elated pitter patter of his heart thrumming through his veins. The nerves of being so close to you—you sweet face and not being able to touch you.  

“Let me see your face.”

His hands come up to the edges of his helmet without hesitation, a hiss of hair escaping the seal once he pries it off. You smile and take a step closer until the only thing separating you and him is his helmet. 

Rex’s eyes flutter shut, leaning into your hand you gingerly place over his jaw. “I wish the entire galaxy could see you through my eyes,” you whisper, the warmth of your soft palm radiating out and warming his entire body.  

It’s a matchstick to kerosene—his helmet clatters to the ground and there’s only a second to spare as both hands move to cup his cheeks, dragging him into a mouthwatering kiss. 

He hasn’t kissed many people—save for those rare times at 79’s, head swimming under the haze of one too many shots of Corellian fire whiskeys where he could barely distinguish his ass from his hand. Those drunken make-outs were nothing like this. 

No—this…this is what a kiss should be like.   

He dreams about you all the time—so constantly ravenous that all he can feel some days is pure ache. Every and all words that spin around his head starts with you and finishes with his pounding heart close to bursting free from his ribcage. Not in the same way a flood rips through an unsuspecting village—more like the brilliance of a thousand doves, marble white plumage thrashing free from their gilded cage. Your lips taste like the core of a newborn star—scorching and yet still so sweet upon the tongue the same way caramelized sugar sticks to the roof your mouth. You are his first and last everything. 

There’s a certain kind of tragedy hidden beneath your tongue, fragile promises and the eggshell thin shards of hope stapled to the roof of your mouth. Rex will take it—seize any threadbare strand and run with it—spool it into the palm of his hand until you’re wound so tightly together it’ll be impossible to untangle.     

Just when the dizziness sets in from elation and not enough air, you part and leave a sticky trail of warm kisses up his jaw. Rex groans and hugs you closer, you humid breath blooming across his skin. “Let me take care of you.”

The words on his tongue crumble to ash once he nods in agreement. Your kisses dip lower, not even stopping when the reach the edge of his chest plate. Stars, you’re…he never entertained the idea that your lips could look so divine in contrast to the battered plastoid. When you fold onto your knees his heart leaps to his mouth, a flare of arousal flashing through his groin. 

You rest your chin over his codpiece and smile. “Do you like seeing me on my knees, sir?”

Rex huffs and studies at the opposing wall—

“I’ll take that as a yes.” Your fingers find the claps over his codpiece. “Can I take this off?”

Rex jerks his head in a yes but grabs your wrist. Not a rough hold—a tentative one as hesitation swirls in his eyes. “Don’t—don’t have t’ do this for me—“

You quirk a brow. “I want to because I like you, Rexy.”

A rosy blush blooms over his sharp cheekbones. The captain nods again.

The codpiece clatters to the ground and immediately you move your hand to palm him through his blacks. He grunts and squeezes his eyes shut. There we go.      

Biting your lip, you pull down his blacks as far as the plastoid plating allows, greeted with the hard length of his cock, beautiful and flushed a rosy brown. Fuck—he’s thicker than you thought. You wrap your fingers around the base, delighted by Rex’s airy gasp as he throbs in your palm. A bead of liquid shines at the tip and just the sight of it makes your mouth water. 

Moons—you should’ve done this sooner.

With a stuttering inhale, Rex trails his forefinger along your cheek and tucks a stray hair behind your ear. The pads of his fingertips skim lower and lightly pinch your chin between his forefinger and thumb. Your eyes lift to meet his. “You—you sure?”

You answer with a kiss over the dip of his navel, the skin searing hot under your lips. Rex curses and rolls his head back onto his shoulders when your palm slides up the length of his cock and then back down. Your grip is firm and tight as Rex slumps onto the crate, goosebumps rushing up his exposed flesh. Stars, when’s the last time he’s gotten release like this? 

You lean forward and lick a languid line from the velvety skin of his balls all the way up to the tip. Rex’s hips jolt. You purse your lips and suckle at the head, dipping your tongue over the slit then down to trace the ridge of his frenulum all the while your hand rolls up and down his shaft. Rex tangles his fingers into your hair with a hiss. You open your jaw a bit wider and take him down a few inches into the wet heat of your mouth, feeling your lips stretch around his cock. You you drag the flat of your tongue along the underside of his shaft to make the thickness easier to swallow down, but he's still only halfway into your mouth when he hits the back of your throat.

“Fuck—" Rex moans as his hips strain to remain still. “S’good—such a good girl.”

You glance up, eyes devouring the attractive length of his clean shaven throat and the underside of his chin. Rex swallows and let’s out another little sound. You whine softly in return and slip a hand into your pants, pressing your fingertips against your throbbing clit as you start to carefully bob your head up and down. Yeah—your jaw already aches just from holding his cock in in your mouth but fuck it—it’s worth it.   

Rex's chest heaves with exertion as he mindfully rocks his hips up, pushing and rolling his cock deeper into your mouth until his shaft is nearly seated all the way in. Ditching your own pleasure entirely, you swallow around him, forcing down the urge to gag and simply hold him here. Allowing him a moment to just enjoy the soft warmth of your mouth before launching into the main event.  

Rex murmurs your name and strokes his thumb over your cheek. “You’re beautiful—so pretty like—like this..ah—” 

You pointedly hollow your cheeks and suck, his flattery warming your chest with pride. You swallow around him another time, squeeze his shaft, your fist following your mouth as you lift up then back down to the base. You grunt at the abrupt jolt of his hips. There’s no distinctive rhythm you can follow as you pull halfway up and let Rex rock his hips into your mouth—seeking out his pleasure without a coherent thought in sight. Just a cacophony of gasping breaths and rough moans of your name. 

Soon enough he’s twitching in your mouth, his eyes fluttering shut as his head tips back onto his shoulders. The gloved hand sweetly cradling your cheek slips to the nape of your neck, tangling his fingers into you hair to anchor himself. He’s close—quiet gasps and broken curses tumbling out, hips unconsciously rocking into your mouth in search of release.

Rex whimpers your name, his leg jolting as you work your jaw wider and swallow him down, the dark curls tickling your nose once it brushes his groin. “Oh, fuck.” 

You hum around him, delighting in the mumbled praises. Almost there…That’s it. 

He’s dangling on the precipice—on tiny shove away from euphoria—

“Wait—“ Saliva dribbles down your chin when his cock pops out from your swollen lips, throbbing from the unintentional tease. “Maker—shit.” 

If not for the gloves covering his hands, you’re sure they’d be turning white from how tightly he grips the edge of the crate. His eyes are squeezed shut, slightly bent forward as he falls away from the edge of his release. Rex sucks in a steadying breath, amber eyes meeting your confused ones. 

“I don’t—can we—“ Rex’s eyes flit and focus on anything but you as he stutters and works up the courage to ask for what he wants. “Do we have time—“

You rolls your eyes and rest your cheek on his thigh. Silly man. “You wanna fuck me, Rexy?”

“Kriff, yes.”

You smile and wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. “I don’t think they’ll miss us."

Rex doesn’t complain when you take his hands and yank him onto the grubby floor and over your senatorial robes. He props his back against the crate as you shuck off everything below the waste and clamber into his lap. His hands, warm even through the leather, land over the swell of your hips and wrench you closer until your front presses up against his chest plate. 

The rough prickle of his stubble is, in all sense of the word, addictive. He tilts his head to kiss you, the slick touch of his tongue on your bottom lip adding jet fuel to the fire low in your belly. Rex groans and cups your jaw, holding your mouth open to dance his tongue along the length of yours. You whine and shudder as he purses his lips and lightly sucks on your tongue before you both part. 

Rex drags his teeth over your bottom lip as you both pant for precious air. His dark lashes sweep up his cheeks when he looks at you. This close you bare witness to the dazzling color of his eyes—crystalized pearls of amber over the crackled bark of pine tree in the midmorning sun. Muted gold threaded through the brown like fine lace and the slow shimmer of the sun dappled through water. To think such a man like him is dredged through the bloodied mud of war is despicable.

You blink away the swell of tears prickling at your eyes and kiss him once more. Sighing, you whisper down, mouthing soft nibbles and teasing kisses over his jaw and down his neck. Rex squirms and rock his hips up, your cunt clenching around nothing. You need him.   

“Rex,” you groan. You slide your hand between your bodies and grab at his thick length. Rex gasps into your mouth, long fingers clamping onto your waist in a death grip. “I want you.”

“I’m yours.” 

Your nibble at his earlobe as you grind your hips against his length, the folds of your cunt teasingly out of reach. “Touch me, Captain.” 

Rex tears off his vambraces and gloves, hand wedging between your thighs, touching the very tips of his fingers to your throbbing clit. You whine and clench your jaw—the pleasure is raw—sizzling electricity that crackles with the deadly promises of your pleasure. It’s as if you’ve had the breath knocked out of your lungs the second he bears down a bit more on your clit, drawing tentative circles, each completion sending a shockwave of tightly spooled ecstasy through each and every nerve. You nearly sob as his fingers slip away. 

“So wet already,” Rex moans as you tip your head back when two of his fingers begin circle your dripping cunt. They’re thick and long and perfect. Your hips stutter as your cunt easily accepts his fingers, the heel of his palm slotting perfectly against your pussy to stimulate your clit. 

Maker you’re seeing stars as Rex rocks his hand into you—the bend of his fingers the perfect angle to catch all the right places that make you tremble. He kisses your cheek and moans your name into your ear, all low and gravelly— 

Your body seizes up tight as you soar, plummeting off the edge only to tumble so fast and so hard that tears prick the corner of your eyes. Rex peppers kisses over your cheeks and runs his free hand through your hair, purring praise and adoration as you shudder—your mouth parted in a silent cry as you cum and dissolve into his hands. 

When you suck in a steadying breath and open your eyes, Rex is gazing upon you with starstruck eyes—pure adoration that makes your cheeks flare hotter than the surface of two mini suns. Your teeth catch your bottom lip. You’re not sure you deserve to be looked at like this…

However, you’re impatient and running on stolen seconds. As much as you’d like to just simply stare at him—there’s not enough time. Rex wraps his fingers around the base of his cock and slides the tip of himself through your soaking folds. Each stroke against your still throbbing clit makes you buckle into yourself, but the angle that your knees are propped over his hips means you're stuck here. 

Rex pauses and cups your cheek. His thumb scrapes over your cheekbone. “You want this?”

You place your hand over his and turn your head to mouth a kiss over the lines of his palm. Oh, fuck yeah. Kind of him to ask as if hadn’t just cum over his fingers but—no. “I need you to fuck me, Rex. That’s an order.”

Rex huffs out a low chuckle and bumps the crown of his forehead against yours. “As you wish, Senator.” 

Rex runs the blunt head of his cock through your folds again, slicking himself up with your arousal. You mewl and dig your nails into the hard plastoid as the wide tip of him pushes into your entrance—he shudders as you clench and wiggle. It doesn’t hurt, but he’s in no small. You’ll feel him for days, you’re sure of it as your cunt swallows inch after inch. 

You both groan as he finally bottoms out. His jaw his clenched tight as sweat beads at his blonde hairline—Stars above, he’s a sight, struggling not to loose control the second he’s buried inside of you. Desire tickles up your spine, tugging at the fabrics of your being until all you can focus on his how Rex isn’t moving. You shift your hips in tiny, almost imperceptible motions, and squeeze around him. 

“Damn—“ A ragged moans slices through his words as your gentle rocking morphs into needy jolts. It’s easy to fuck yourself onto his cock like this, but the measly thrusts are meant to tempt him. “Fuck, cyare, you’re tight.” 

You smirk and grab at his sculpted shoulders—it’s the push he needs. Rex snarls your name, cups his hands under the globes of your ass and pulls you off his cock nearly all the way out only to slam back in. There’s no time to adjust before Rex sets a pace, fevered and rabid All pent up energy collecting over the weeks you’ve known each other. Each roll of his hips borders erratic, taking his pleasure without thought—intent on reaching his own end after being denied for what feels like ages. 

You squeal in surprise as Rex pushes you onto your back and hoists your legs around his hips. Rex buries his nose into the crook of your neck and moans your name like a sweet prayer wrapped in honeycomb. Rex shifts his weight, widening his knees to sink deeper into your cunt—his stubble tickling your throat as his staggered exhales burn hot over your skin. 

You choke out a groan and feel your arousal begin to drip down your thighs—hear the thrusts of his cock into your cunt become shamefully wetter. Electric heat sears down each vertebrae in your spine, scorching through each and every veins with the catastrophic brilliance of an imploding star. Shit—

“So good t’me—so perfect,” he huffs into your ear. Rex turns his head and steals a kiss. “Feel fuckin’ good stretched around my cock."

You clench around him hard as Rex’s hand sneaks between your bodies and rubs tight, little circles over you swollen clit. There’s barely any build up to your orgasm—just a blinding surge of devastating warmth that sweeps through your body, from your aching center down to your toes. It steals away all the air left in your lungs and leaves your clutching his arm and shuddering for a hold in your own reality—the steady warmth of his body that’s unburdened by armor a much needed anchor for the madness that threatens to drown you. 

His gentle, and pliant kisses morph into little pricks of his teeth over your neck and collar bone as his hips struggle to keep a definitive pattern. Rex’s curses string together and blur into nonsensical noises and loose tongue admittances that are comparable to moving inches from an imploding star.   

“Where can—can I?”

You grab at his head and whine his name. “Anywhere—in me—you can cum in me.”

With a loving caress over back of his neck and a sweet whisper of his name, he reaches release. Rex’s moan is airy as his eyes slam shut and captures your mouth in a sizzling kiss. He’s twitching in your arms as his hips erratically jerk, hot spurts of his release coating your insides and beginning to leak over your robes you lay over. Whatever. 

Rex nips at your skin as the last dregs of pleasure jolt up your spine. Neither of you say a word as Rex’s hips come to a slow. Time trickles through your fingers like sand through an hourglass half empty but instead of rushing to dress, you choose to lie on the ground—two halves of a mess someone’s been meaning to clean up for the better part of a long while. You feel at home here—content as your fingers run up and down the back of his head, a bit irked by the armor still covering his back. You’re terrified of the months to come—but at least you have each other. After all, gardens will bloom and flourish with fresh blooded love and wild mistakes sculpted from passion forever if you believe hard enough…wont they?

[loveandthings11]

How Deep My Love Goes, Chapter 4

Read on AO3 Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Welcome Back

He kisses her cheek, turning to go for his first day in the role he’s been waiting for his whole life. He’s never been so conflicted between dying to be in the office and never wanting to leave the apartment again. She’s not letting go of his hand and he turns back and looks at her. 

He forgot what it’s like to feel needed and how much he loves it. In college, they would tell each other how many hours it would be before they’d see each other next. 

“Good luck today. Call me and tell me how it goes!” She’s putting on cheer and wants him to feel good about going, but she’d rather keep him here, where there are soft pillows and softer kisses, where no one can make him feel like less than he is.

“I will,” he says. As if he ever stopped calling her at work. He keeps his hand in hers for a second before turning around and pressing the elevator button and stepping inside.

“Hey,” she says.

He’s never going to be able to leave. He smiles and steps back out.

“You’re CEO today.” 

He shrugs. 

“I mean, not really.”

She tilts her head, a mixture of disbelief and a coy smile.

“But… kind of. You are.”

He lets himself enjoy it for a moment.

“Kind of.”

“So. How many hours?” She asks in the type of cute, shy voice she used on him when she was 22.

She loves when she can see the love in his eyes. He counts in his head.

“Uh, ten?”

She tries to put on her Patient Wife persona but Impatient College Girl is insistent. 

“Ten. Ummmm, okay.”

He’s never been happier to see her pretend something is fine. She gives him an irresistibly adorable look and he considers everything that awaits him when he gets home.

“I’ll try for nine hours. So- so, 7:00.”

She smiles. He missed making her smile. He feels himself relax a little at the thought that she wants him to be there so much and wonders what made her change her mind about them so quickly.

“Okay,” she concedes. “Go before I start really thinking about you being in charge… bossing everyone around.”

He pauses.  She’s into this. 

“You could text me, you know, if you, uh, want to share your thoughts.” He knows it might be a hard day and he’s already hoping for the rare bit of reassurance.

She laughs softly and looks away, suddenly bashful at the idea of recording the words. He’s usually the one who talks like that.

“Um, are you going to tell me what to do when you text me back? Because, you know, I don’t really know how to do that…”

“Right. You’re so innocent.”

She shrugs and gives him an angelic look. He’s staring.

“Okay. That’s really not fair. I have to go to work.” She giggles. He’s so easy.

“So, I should stay over here while you leave then, right?”

He lets his head fall back.

“Jesus, no. Come here.”

She takes a couple of steps toward him and he kisses her like he won’t see her for months, gentle and intense with his hands in her hair. She feels like no time has passed since he did this for the first time and it made her fall in love.

He keeps both hands on her face and looks into her eyes.

“I love you,” he says easily, like he never stopped telling her.  “And I’ll see you at 7:00.”

He exerts a physical effort to get in the elevator.

“Love you! Byyyee,” she says cheerily.

He shakes his head and smiles.

“Bye.”

The elevator shuts and he runs his hands over his face to see if it’s real.

…………………………

She’s just opened a bottle of wine when he gets home and is watching the sunset from the kitchen. She hears him walk in and turns to meet him.

“You’re home!”

He’s pumped up with energy and so ready to show off. He revels in finally getting to hear her say those words as he walks over and gives her an extra-confident sexy kiss. She feels her heart flutter.

“Yeah, and what time is it?” He raises his eyebrows and she looks at his watch.

“6:57. Wow.” She laughs softly.

“That’s right.”

“So, it sounds like things got better today!” He’d tried to sound confident on the phone, but she could tell he was dealing with disaster.

“Oh, they got better. I saved the fucking company today. Dad doesn’t even know, but he was seriously letting things slip. If- If he doesn’t make the announcement at RECNY then he really will be out of his mind. I got four billion dollars from Stewy and got us out of debt-“ he stops to breathe and looks around. “Where are the kids?” He asks curiously.

“Oh, they’re both at friends’ houses today. I meant to tell you earlier.” She has to remember to tell him things like this now. She hopes he’s not mad. “They already had the plans, so I didn’t want to cancel. So- out of debt?”

“Oh. Okay- well, yeah, that’s okay. Uh, yeah, the bank was about to do something completely fucking insane, but, you know… that’s not happening anymore.” He’s so proud of himself.

“Wow,” she smiles and nods. “So, you’re kind of a big deal.”

“I actually am.” He smirks. He slows down the energy just a little bit and they walk over to sit on the couch. “How was your day? How was work?” He really wants to know. He used to wonder what she was doing all the time.

“Well, not as epic as your day! But, interesting. I talked to this new client who is just getting completely screwed. He’s been through some truly disgusting stuff at work and he’s getting these horrible threats, it’s awful. I really want to get him his day in court.”

He loves that she gets to take on any client she wants pro bono. She’d broken down to him in her first year of law school about having to go into corporate law because otherwise she’d make nothing. The next day she’d gotten a letter from the accounting office that law school had been paid for in full. She’d protested to him through happy tears until it sank in that she could now take on only those who needed her most.

“I have no doubt you will. So, just you and me then- you wanna go out? Because then we’re coming back here and you’re going to do what you said in that text that I could barely stop thinking about for five minutes.”

She’s glad it made an impression. She’d played coy earlier but she really hadn’t been much for the dirty texts before.

“Oh, I’m going to?” 

“You’re going to.”

She moves closer. He’s so hot when he’s on an ego trip.

“How can you be sure?”

He smirks at the way she’s almost up against him. 

“I mean, for one thing, you can’t stay more than a foot away from me.”

She laughs. He’s won.

“Fuck you.”

“I know this new French place. It’s super good.”

“Sounds great.”

“So, I should probably also tell Dad about us, you know, before the press publishes those photos from earlier, and ones they’ll probably take tonight?”

“Oh. Yeah, okay, so you have to call him now?”

“Well, I mean, yes, I don’t know-“ he’s fidgeting with the phone, putting it down and picking it back up again and rubbing the throw blanket next to him. She hates to see it, but it’s best to get it over with. She puts her hand on his.

He picks up the phone and feels his shoulders tighten as he drums his fingers on the couch cushion. She can tell the moment Logan answers by his sharp intake of breath.

“Dad. Hey. How are you?”

“In my own fucking room being told what I can and can’t eat by these morons,” Logan grumbles. It’s not on speaker but she can hear his booming voice.

“The doctors? Yeah.” She snickers at the dryness and he allows himself a tiny smile in her direction. “Do you- are you feeling okay? Do you need anything? I can come over there right now.”

Plans evaporate when Logan might need him.

“No, not here. I have enough people crowding up this place. What is it?”

“Uh, I just- I wanted to tell you that Rava and I got back together last night. She came to the hospital because she was worried about you, and-“

Rava looks away to roll her eyes. Right. 

“-we, uh, we’re back.” She can hear his shallow breathing waiting for Logan’s reaction like he’s still 17. There’s a pause.

“Huh. Good, son, that’s good. Plays well. See you at this bullshit next week. Roman tells me we’re calling it the sad sack wasp trap.”

“Yeah. Roman calls it that.”

Logan chuckles.

“I like it. And Marcia and I will still be there. Don’t say anything fucking stupid in that speech of yours.”

“Yeah,” Kendall says, looking at the phone and not even sure if his dad heard before he hung up.

“Okay.” He gives her a nervous smile. A look of relief washes over him. “He’s back.”

For better or for worse. She looks at the couch. 

“We play well,” she nods sarcastically.

“Welcome back,” he says with a strained laugh. 

“So- you’re not going to tell him you saved the company today?”

“No. I’ll let the news do that for me.” She actually watches the smirk come back across his face. She’s glad to see it. Logan doesn’t get to mess this up. She takes his hand and stands up.

“Good. Well, we better go then. We have a lot to do tonight.”

…………………………

It’s been five endless work days full of Logan’s blustering and disappointment, five days of noticing the many unsettling oddities his stroke seems to have brought on. Kendall and Roman have been increasingly concerned and are feeling hopeful that he’ll serve as a figurehead more than a CEO moving forward.

At home, it’s been five deliriously happy dinners full of kids’ laughter and the sweet, knowing glances he used to strategize about how to get back. Five nights of the kind of love most people only read about, and the kind of sleep only found when things are just as they should be.

After five days that had felt like a new lifetime, the evening of the RECNY ball has arrived. Kendall’s been prepping all week, planning the night that his father will finally announce that he’s ready to accept his place as the legend he’s been raised to become.

Rava’s meeting him at the office before they ride over together. Things have been so crazy he hadn’t had time to come home beforehand. It’s dark outside and the only light on in the office is Logan’s- Kendall’s. 

She hasn’t worn a dress this elegant in so long, and she feels like it might be too much. She’d worked with her old stylist to have a floor-length black work of art made with the smallest hint of shimmer in the silk. A deep V in front and a slit up part of her leg give it spice, and she hopes it isn’t too over-the-top. She makes her way across the mess of cubicles and opens the glass door. He looks up from the couch and she watches his eyes widen and flit all the way from her face to the floor as he stands up and walks over to her.

“Hi,” she says, squeezing her eyes shut. “I feel like we’re at prom and I feel ridiculous and this is way too much, right?”

He’s trying to remember the last time he saw her like this and feels at a loss for words.

“I- no. You look unbelievable. Wow.”

He puts his hands on her waist and feels the fabric over her body. He slides his hands over the dress. He wants it on the floor. Silk makes him insane. She picked it on purpose.

She grins and shakes her head.

“It’s too much.”

“No, it’s… perfect. But, you know, if, uh, if you just want to take it off for a while, I’m pretty sure we’re the only ones here.”

“Ohhh, stop that. God, I’m nervous. Your whole family is going to be there, the photographers, all the pressure on you... I’m ready for champagne already.”

He puts on a mock-serious tone. 

“Substance abuse is not the answer, Rava.”

She laughs and puts her forehead on his shoulder.

“I think I heard that somewhere.”

“It’s gonna be great. You know them, they’re all, you know, they’re all assholes. But we’ll just be with Stewy and whoever, it’s cool.”

“Yeah,” she smiles at him. He can’t get over it.

“Uh, come sit on the couch for a second, I just have to finish this email and then I gotta show you the final speech.” She settles onto the couch and watches him cross the room and sit down at his dad’s desk.

“You look good there,” she says.

“You know, I feel good here.”

She’s thrilled to hear it. He finishes typing and walks back over to her.

“Okay.” He takes a breath. He wants to impress her so much. “Time for the speech. I talked to all the fucking best people for this, like Lampoon guys, poached a couple SNL writers today… so- yeah, we’ll see… you know, tell me what you think.”

He goes into the whole thing, peppering jokes throughout the speech all about Waystar and how much it means, and how much good the company does in the world. When he reaches the part he’s most hopeful will get a chuckle from the audience, she bursts out laughing so he has to stop for a second. He’s so relieved.

“You wrote that one, didn’t you?” It’s the only one he did. 

“Yeah. How could you tell?”

“It’s just like that thing you wrote for the Lampoon senior year!” He looks at her like she’s the most wonderful thing in the world and leans over to kiss her head. She catches his face as he pulls back and kisses his lips. “I guess you’re right, sometimes you are funny,” she says, gently rubbing her lip gloss off him with her thumb. He looks down and smiles. “You can leave it,” he says.

…………………………

The red carpet had been exhausting. It’s never been her favorite part of being a member of the Roy family, but she knows Kendall secretly likes the validation, so she goes along with the madness. The interviewers had had a million questions and the flashes from the cameras had been blinding. But they’ve made it inside.

The first one to greet them at the door is Connor.

“Hey, Kenny!” He’s so happy to see his little brother and gives him a warm hug.

“Hey,” he says, letting the embrace last a few extra seconds. Connor’s the only other one in the family who doesn’t withhold affection. 

“Rava!” Connor exclaims as they pull apart. “I’m so glad you’re back. I knew it would work out. See, I told you, buddy!“

He pats Kendall’s back and Kendall smiles but doesn’t look at her. She might melt. 

“Yeah. You knew it.”

Connor ushers them inside. 

“I did! Well, come in, come in, you’re at table two. Mostly because you were born second, in case you forgot. Have fun tonight.”

Kendall nods. He knows the non-jokes are based in some deep insecurities so he always lets them go.

“Yeah. Thanks, Con.”

He holds her hand as they walk across the huge and immaculately decorated ballroom. They stop for drinks and make their way toward the stage. Kendall’s looking at the podium like it’s an altar. 

“You’re going to do great, don’t worry,” she says. “That speech is perfect.”

He squeezes her hand and they walk over to sit down at the table, already partially occupied. Stewy smiles at Rava and leans back in his chair.

“Oh, welcome back, Rava.” He swivels to look at Kendall. “Ken, I’m very impressed. Guess this means I’ll call off the dogs then.” 

Rava’s sipping the pre-poured glass of champagne at the table, her second on an empty stomach. 

“What does that mean?” She asks. Kendall shoots him a warning look. 

“Nothing.” He puts his hand on her thigh and Stewy laughs while he sips his scotch. Kendall rolls his eyes and she looks at him. 

“Oh, does one of your friends have a crush on me?“ She teases.

“Might be a couple of them, actually, are you entertaining offers?” Stewy asks, smirking and clearly deeply enjoying creating chaos.

Rava laughs and takes Kendall’s other hand on the table as she turns to Stewy. 

“Nope.”

“Oh, that’s adorable,” he says, voice oozing sarcasm.

“Okay. Fuck off,” Kendall says. He turns to Rava. “You want to come get another drink?” 

“Yes!” Rava answers, slipping her arm through his.

They start walking and he looks serious. 

“What?” She asks playfully.

“Nothing. Stewy…”

“Oh, he was just messing with you.”

He raises his eyebrows.

“Oh, he wasn’t?”

“He- he told me a few days ago that he was deciding whether to… allow someone to ask you out, and he asked me if I was okay with it.”

She laughs softly. 

“Ken.”

“Well? You were just dating someone else, so… you know, whatever. I don’t want to get into it.”

“Awww,” she reaches out to stop him and guides him to look at her. “Hey, I’m taken now. And I’m happy about it.” She smiles at him and gives him a quick little kiss. He looks at her face, trying to read it. He really hates that she was with someone else. He feels a little nauseous thinking about it, but he thinks he shouldn’t say anything more. She looks back and realizes she didn’t ask an important question.

“What did you say?”

“What?”

“What did you say when he asked whether you were okay with it?”

“Uh….I- I told him it was fine and then I came to see you that night,” he chuckles. He takes her left hand and looks at the ring. “Just- don’t take that off.” She laughs, but it does little to quell the insecurity he’s feeling.

“I won’t.” She kisses him again, a little longer this time, the warmth of the champagne making her want to get closer.

Roman calls out from the table next to them. 

“Ugh, people are eating here, that is disgusting. What is this, 2005?” Kendall looks at him.

“Dude, if it were 2005, you’d be calling me from the strip club asking what the chances were that a girl named Sapphire was serious about you.”

Roman gives Rava a look. 

“Well, you wouldn’t share, so…”

Rava laughs out loud.

“See, even your wife knows I’m funnier than you.”

“Fuck you,” Kendall says to Roman, with a barely-there smile. She rolls her eyes at Roman. Kendall takes her hand and they walk over to the corner bar.

He gives her an amused look. 

“You’re a generous audience tonight.”

“Well, I’ve been generously sipping. I forgot how much fun it is to be the couple who grosses everyone out. I actually love that.” He gives her a small smile.

“Me too.”

She can tell he’s feeling worried and wants to make it better. 

“A glass of champagne for her, please,” he tells the bartender. She steps closer to him again and he looks around to see if people are watching.

“Are you trying to get me drunk?” She smiles in his ear and he can’t stop the wild memories of what happens when she drinks just a little more than necessary. He wants all her attention on him.

“Yes.” He allows himself a glance down her slinky dress and she takes a long sip from the fresh glass. 

“I think it’s working,” she whispers, touching the button on his jacket.

“Okay, you can’t do that here,” he laughs quietly as she breaks through the seriousness.

“Good point. Back room?”

“Ha ha.” He looks at her and she’s biting her lip and smiling. “No. Wait, are you- what? No. Are you serious?”

She’s still able to feel a little self-conscious. 

“I don’t know.”

He looks at the half-empty glass and shakes his head.

“I asked for this.”

An A/V tech walks over and awkwardly tries to interrupt them.

“Sorry, but Kendall, can I borrow you for a second?” He asks. She shakes her head in protest and Kendall tries not to laugh.

“Uh, sure, yeah.” He looks at her. 

“I’ll be back,” he says. His gaze lingers on Rava’s plunging neckline as he walks away with the tech, who is not relishing this moment.

“Um… so the thing is… I’m really sorry, but, your dad said he’s actually going to make the speech.”

“What?”

“Yeah, he said he was going to make his speech instead.”

“What- no. I’m making the speech, it’s already in the teleprompter, I’ve already- it’s set.”

The guy looks uncomfortable and doesn’t really know what to say.

“Sorry, um, it’s Logan’s orders.”

“What- okay. Never mind. I’ll talk to him.”

Rava watches his face change from the bar and he walks over to Logan with purpose. It looks like he’s probably not going to be back here. She picks up some tray-passed appetizers to soak up the alcohol in her other hand and goes to sit back down next to Stewy at the table, wondering what could be going on. She’s feeling a little disappointed and uneasy. He hasn’t taken his eyes or hands off her for a week.

Stewy’s stunning date is sitting so close she’s practically in his lap, whispering in his ear and giggling at everything he says. The familiar jealously of happy couples that’s been hanging over her for years creeps up, and she reminds herself that she finally has that again, if he would only come back over here. Stewy keeps his arm around his date and notices Rava’s expression.

“Trouble in paradise already?”

“No. I don’t know. He’s talking to Logan, so…”

Stewy rolls his eyes. 

“Fuuuuck Logan.”

“Yeah… what do you think he wants?”

He slowly stirs his drink and traces his fingers along the high slit in his girl’s dress. 

“Could be anything, really. Luring Ken to a sinkhole, just getting close enough to put some arsenic in his drink…”

“Seriously. Do you think it’s about the speech, or- I mean, it must be important, right?” She’s hoping for validation. 

Stewy shrugs. 

“Could be. Guess we’ll find out.”

The girl is running her fingers through his hair. 

“Now if you’ll excuse me,” he smiles at the girl.

Rava nods wearily and looks around. Kendall catches her eye from across the room and he looks like he got struck by lightning.

“Shit,” she mutters. Logan ruins everything.

She watches as he whispers in Gerri’s ear and Gerri walks over to Logan as Kendall pretends not to watch. Gerri shakes her head at him. 

Kendall walks over to the table slowly, the way he does when he’s processing the worst kind of news. He stops to talk to Roman for a minute, who’s shifting in his chair at the news of another family rift. He walks back and sits down next to Rava, saying nothing for a second.

“What did your dad say?” She asks tentatively.

“I guess… he’s going to be making the speech.”

“What? Why would he do that?”

“Thinks I was trying to… fucking… sabotage him or something. It was one joke about him. You know, he might not even need my help to sabotage things, the way he’s been acting at the office. He’s out of it. And it’s not just me saying this, I mean, Roman agrees with me. Honestly, I-I don’t know what he’s gonna say. I tried to get Gerri to do something, but, you know, she’s part of the problem.”

The lights dim and she hates watching him deflate as his dad comes on stage. Stewy pats Kendall’s shoulder.

“It’s all right, man. He can’t keep this up forever.”

The wheels start turning.

“…Yeah. That’s true. Dude, can we talk right now?”

“Hell yeah, bro.”

Kendall and Stewy walk over to an empty table a couple of tables over and start planning. Rava’s left with Stewy’s date, who immediately starts texting. After about 10 minutes, Logan finishes his speech and the room erupts in the kind of thunderous applause reserved for those who control the lives of every clapper.

Kendall stands up and fist bumps Stewy before he walks all the way across the room and Stewy returns to the table and sits down. The next speaker comes on and drones on about the half-hearted charitable efforts of Waystar’s PR department.

Rava’s half-listening as she looks around the space. She spots Kendall huddled with Gerri and watches her give him a shrug before nodding and taking him over to sit down at the table with Frank.

The second speech ends and an inspirational video begins. Kendall walks back across the room and she’s glad to see him sit down.

“Hey!” She whispers. “What’s going on?”

He looks around nervously. “I- I can’t really- I’ll tell you later.” 

“Really? Something big, or-“

Roman appears behind Kendall and leans down to talk quietly.

“Uh, so, I just talked to Gerri, and I need to talk to you. Like, now.” He pulls Kendall’s arm.

“Yeah,” Kendall says. The two brothers walk into the hallway outside the ballroom. She looks after them uncertainly.

“Is he coming back?” She whispers to Stewy.

“Here?” He gestures to the table. “Not tonight. Probably not for a while, actually.” He smiles. “This is gonna be a fun ride.” He whispers in his date’s ear. She nods and takes his hand as they walk toward the bathrooms.

Rava sighs and fiddles with the dessert fork in front of her as she takes another long drink of champagne. She feels the space around her and realizes she forgot about this part.

…………………………

In the car, she stares out the window and they ride quietly. He’s going over every board member in his head, analyzing whether he can trust each one of them, figuring out to who to approach first. She crosses her legs and he realizes she hasn’t said anything for 20 minutes.

“You okay?”

“Oh. Yeah, I guess so.”

He knows better.

“What?”

“I guess I forgot that I was also married to a company,” she says, half-joking.

He sighs. “Come on, that’s not fair. This- this is everything, you know that. This is the time. I mean, and this was literally my dad’s foundation, so… it’s going to be about the company there. You know how that is. This is my chance, you know? This is everything.”

She looks back out the window and nods.

“Yes, it is.”

“Don’t do that. You know that’s not what I meant, but this is, like, the most important week of my life. And-“ He rolls up the partition and takes a deep breath. “Look, we’re planning a vote of no confidence against Dad.” She looks shocked. “Yeah. I know. I hate it, but this vote… this could be it for me. I-I mean, you’re here with me, right?”

She nods.

“Yeah,” she says. “Um, so what happens if it works? If you become CEO?”

“…If?” He didn’t know there was so much doubt in her mind.

“No, when. Are you ever going to be home?” She hadn’t really considered this part in their week of domestic bliss. She hadn’t considered it for years.

“Uh- what? Yeah, I’ll obviously be home. I mean, maybe less, but I’ll try. I’ll just have to focus on this stuff, though.” He doesn’t know where this is coming from. “Is this, like, news that I want this?”

“No, I don’t know, it’s just never been so... close before, you know? I mean, your dad is basically a company and not a person, so, you understand my concern?”

He’s taken aback by that one.

“I’m not my dad, Rava.”

“I know that!” She jumps in, realizing that was really the wrong comparison to make. “No, you could never be like that. And, of course, I want you to get it. It’s your dream. I just… the timing is hard. It’s stupid, this is stupid.” She wishes she’d kept her mouth shut.

“The timing?”

She looks at his hand and wants to hold it.

“I just got you back,” she says quietly.

He blinks and looks at her. It hadn’t even occurred to him that that could be the reason behind her lack of enthusiasm. 

“Oh. Wow, okay. Hey.” He moves closer and puts his arm around her. She feels silly.

“I just… I liked the glow. It’s only been a few days, I’m not ready to lose you to the boardroom already.” He doesn’t even know what to say. No one has noticed or cared when he got home for a long time. “It’s not your fault, it’s just how it is.” She wants to make herself stop talking but the drinks won’t let her. “This is nothing, it’s fine. You just kept getting pulled away and I started to feel like a commercial break in between the main attractions.” 

“In that dress?” He tries to get her to smile. She lays her head on his shoulder. “Well, I- I can’t completely change that part, you know how it is- sometimes it’ll be like that but- but that was way better than it’s been for the last three years.” She’s still quiet. “I lost the speech, and I still- I actually had fun because you were there.” That gets an amused smile. She can’t remember ever hearing Kendall say he had fun.

“Yeah, I know that’s the way. I shouldn’t have said anything. But we could’ve had a lot more fun,” she sighs, missing the sexy feeling from earlier in the evening.

“Yeah? Well… if you’re still up for fun…”

“That doesn’t just fix problems, you know,” she admonishes, leaning into him nonetheless.

He snakes an arm around her waist and lets his eyes wander over her exposed thigh peeking out of the slit.

“I mean… it’s not going to make them worse.”

She tries to keep a straight face.

“Mmhmmm,” she says, still mulling.

“You do look amazing in this. Seriously. I was thinking about it all night.”

“No, you weren’t,” she rolls her eyes and hopes he argues.

“I was. Believe me, I- yeah. I would rather have stayed in that corner with you all night.” He’s still wondering if she’d really wanted to go with him to a back room as he breathes in the fragrance of her perfume. He thinks he would’ve been too scared of getting caught, but it’s insanely hot that it was even in her head.

“Well, you didn’t stay there…”

He decides now is not the time to make the point that that was out of his control. He brushes her hair back and kisses under her ear.

“When- if- this works, you’re still going to be the best part- you know, of everything,” he whispers.

She looks at him to try to see if it’s true.

“Can I make it up to you?” He tries.

“Maybe.”

“Tell me what you were thinking about with the back room,” he says in a low voice as he kisses her neck.

She blushes. 

“No! That was just the champagne talking.” She inhales sharply as he hits a sweet spot.

“Please tell me it wasn’t.” He leans over her and starts undoing the back of her dress.

“You wouldn’t have gone,” she teases and loosens his tie.

“Now I’m thinking I would’ve,” he runs his hands over her hips, up her body, feeling every perfect curve.

“We are in the car!” She giggles.

“Yeah, I don’t care.” She hears his breathing quicken as he pulls her onto his lap.

“You are out of control!”

“Uh huh,” he breathes. “I need you, right now.”

He puts his hand on her face and guides her lips to his.

Chapter 5 💗

[kohanayaki]

.:Time and Time Again:. (Marauders Era x Reader) Ch 3

Continuing the story of how you and Sirius became friends; as James and Remus grow closer to you, Sirius continues to treat you coldly until a late night encounter makes him question everything.

LINKS:   CH 1   CH 2   CH 3   CH 4   CH 5   CH 6   CH 7   CH 8

________________________________________________________

Ch 3 .:Resistance and Reconciliation:.

~Previously~

“I'm not going to bother making friends with someone whose family is so wrapped up in blood politics they forget to be human beings first. Trust me, I've met their mother enough times to know.”

“Did you ever ask them about it?” Remus pressed.

“I don't really need to, do I? They're a (L/n). Open your eyes, Moony!”

Remus' brow furrowed, a shine in his eyes akin to sympathy as he regarded Sirius.

“Perhaps it's you that needs to clear your vision, friend.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~   1974  ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sirius sat on the stone ledge on the window of his dorm room, looking out towards the Black Lake. He could see the push and pull of the wind as the thin branches of the ash trees bowed gently with the rhythm. In the reflection of the glass he could see James and Peter behind him experimenting with an altered set of wizard's chess, complete with fire-breathing knights and bishops that threw daggers, while one of Remus' records spun in the background.

Despite everything he could have been thinking about at the moment, his thoughts, irritatingly enough, drifted to you. He frowned slightly as he leaned his shoulder against the window, annoyed that you occupied even a portion of his mind. He just couldn't understand you. Somehow you had turned James, who had once openly proclaimed you his sworn enemy, into something close to a friend in the span of a year. You had no qualms with pranks pulled on you, yet you were fiercely protective when they were directed at others. You were always smiling, yet your temper took no prisoners. If you weren't a Slytherin you might even be attractive.

The thought made him bolt upright. Where the hell did that come from? He almost laughed. No. Absolutely not. He was Sirius Black, he could get anyone he wanted in this bloody school, and he certainly wasn't going to busy his mind with you. What the hell was wrong with him? It's not like he noticed the way you smiled to yourself when you were reading, or the fact that the sound of your laugh got stuck in his head like a song—

No. Stop it. Get your head straight, they're evil.

Sirius exhaled deeply, rubbing his tired eyes with his hands. For some reason that thought didn't sit right in his brain, and the longer he sat with it he came to a horrifying conclusion:

Maybe Remus was right.

The only time you'd really been nasty to them was when they'd instigated it first, or whenever they had a go at Snivelus, which had become less and less frequent; Sirius suspected because of your tentative friendship with James. He'd always just assumed you were like the other Slytherins he'd come to know. There's been hearsay circulating around you, especially given your family's reputation, but you yourself hadn't really done anything to prove the rumors. Maybe you really weren't like your family at all. Maybe you were like him. . .

Suddenly, he caught movement in the corner of his eye, not from his friend's reflections but from outside the window itself. A figure emerged from the lamplight of the castle gate, making their way towards the edge of the forest. If the green lining of your school robes and (h/c) hair didn't peak his interest, the flash that he saw of your face as you shot a quick glance over your shoulder confirmed it was you.

Sirius' mind began racing as he watched you disappear into the foliage, and suddenly every thought that had given you the benefit of the doubt vanished. He'd heard the rumors about the gatherings in the forest, everyone had. He'd even caught Snape practicing dark magic there himself one of the first nights they'd used the Shrieking Shack passageway.

He jumped off his perch by the window and grabbed a sheet of parchment and a quill, drawing a rough outline of the perimeter of the forest. He labeled the Black Lake so his spell would have a going off point and pressed his wand to the still drying ink.

“Revelare Popularis,”

The enchantment was a work in progress— a technique he'd learned from a seventh year. It wasn't exact, but it was enough to tell him if anyone else was in the forest right now. His eyes darted across the paper as he scanned his makeshift map, and the color drained from his face as he saw names suddenly appear in a cluster by the lake: Mulciber, Wilkes, Avery, and Malfoy.

Was this it? Were you really one of them? 

James looked up from his game as he saw Sirius grab his leather jacket off where it hung from his bedpost.

“Going somewhere?”

“(L/n) just went into the forest,” Sirius said, “I'm following them.”

“Why, Sirius?” Remus said sardonically, having had enough of his unusual grudge against you, “We're not really ones to talk when it comes to sneaking around the forest at night, now are we?”

“He's got a point,” James said, “I mean, what do you think you're going to see?”

“What do I think?” Sirius scoffed, pushing the paper into Jame's hands, “what does it look like?”

James looked down at the parchment blankly.

“What am I looking at?”

“A variation on Revelio,” Sirius explained quickly, “if you have a location in mind it shows you who's there, but only at the time the charm is cast.”

“Are you kidding me?” James' jaw nearly dropped, “You're just now showing this to us? We could have been taking advantage of this spell to dodge Filch this whole time!”

“I'm serious.”

James had to fight hard not to make a joke out of that one.

“If (L/n)'s meeting up with those guys it can't be for anything good,” Sirius continued, “and I'm gonna find out exactly why.”

Before any of the boys could get another word in, Sirius took off running down the corridor. James groaned, rebelling against the urge to slam his head into the wall.  

“I've got to stop him before he does something stupid,” he said, pulling a coat on over his shoulders, “You with me, Remus?”

“Probably not the best idea,” Lupin reminded him, “the moon's full tomorrow. I won't turn, but in the direct moonlight I may get a bit. . . well, you know.”

“Right,” James sighed, running a hand through his hair in distress, “Peter?”

The boy jolted as he was addressed, his eyes quickly cast down to his twiddling fingers.

“I. . . w-well. . .”

“Fine,” James said, waving them off in annoyance, “I'll go at him alone.”

___________________________________________________

You took a grateful breath of the crisp night air, letting the wind whistle through your hair and clothes. You loved your common room, but it could feel constricting at times, especially when there were nights as beautiful as this taking place.

Your eyes drifted up to the moon, smiling at the sight of it. It was nearly full, only a sliver of white missing from the very edge of the sphere. The sight alone was enough to make you feel more at home in your own skin, an inexplicable sense of comfort washing over you. You hadn't been able to really let loose and just run in so long. You'd made doubly sure no one had followed you into the forest, but you still gave your surroundings a quick once over. You jumped as the sound of leaves crunching suddenly asserted itself behind you and you lit your wand quickly, turning to see who it was.

“. . . Black?”

“Sorry, were you expecting someone else? One of your pureblood friends, maybe?”

The confused look on your face only made his anger flare.

“Don't act coy,” he asked harshly, “just what are you playing at?”

Your back straightened in surprise, taken aback by his words.

“Excuse me?”

“I've seen you talking to my brother, Rosier, Snivelus, and all those other Slytherins. Don't think I don't know what you're doing,” the words flew out of his mouth before they had time to pass through his brain, every irrational irritation he had regarding you spewing out of him at once, “I've had to sit through it, you know. All those dinners where my parents talk blood politics with all the fanatics who think just like them. I've listened to your mother brag all about your pure blood line and how her child is 'so eager to carry on the family traditions'. So whatever you're planning by getting close to James, I'm not going to let it happen.”

You felt like you were frozen in place, staring at him as your throat tightened into knots.

“My mom?” you said, voice suddenly small, “Sirius. . . my mom passed away when I was little.”

Your words hit the Gryffindor like a truck.

“. . . what?” he asked dumbly, his brain delaying slightly in processing what you'd just said.

“She got sick. . . an experimental spell gone wrong. If you met someone with my family's name that spoke like that, it was probably my aunt. My cousin goes to Ilvermorny. That's the child she's talking about, not me. The divide between purebloods and muggleborns is even more severe in America, if you can believe it. . . ”

Sirius faltered, this new information going against everything he'd heard and thought he knew about you and your family.

“But,” he hesitated, “your father—”

“Put up the image he had to in order to keep me safe,” you said. You knew he was documented as being very open about his pureblood pride and distaste towards muggles, but it was a cover more than anything, “Since he stopped speaking with my aunt and moved us both away from the estate, she's acted as the new head of the (L/n) House, and that was years ago. . .”

You trailed off awkwardly, not feeling very self-righteous in your explanation.

“I know my family doesn't have the best reputation. . . that's probably why you hate me, huh?” you chuckled humorlessly, wincing at how harsh the words came out. But if you were honest, you were hurt that out of everyone in their group, Sirius was the one that didn't even seem to want to give you a chance. You were the one who had extended the olive branch in the first place on the condition that they ease up on Severus.

“Hate you?” Sirius echoed hollowly, feeling guilt creep up on him like a shadow, “that's. . . shit, no, that's not—”

“Everte Statum!”

You gasped as Sirius was suddenly shot backwards, his body flipping wildly through the air from the force before being slammed against the trunk of a nearby tree. His head spun, heavily disoriented as his vision shifted in shades.

You had drawn your wand on instinct, looking around for your attackers when you saw a black-clad figure lift their hood, revealing a long mane of white hair that stood out starkly in the night.  

Malfoy.

“Well, looky here,” Mulciber taunted, revealing himself behind you, “we've caught the two biggest blood traitors of the last century having a touching little moment together.”

Laughter echoed from the trees, Wilkes emerging from the shadows. You took up a defensive position as their group surrounded you.

“Now, let's not be hasty, Mulciber,” Lucius said, “their father may have disgraced their house, yes, but they didn't have a choice. It's not too late for them to make the right one now.” His lips turned up into a snarl as he regarded Sirius, “get away from that blood traitor, (L/n), he'll rub off on you.”

You grit your teeth hard, preparing to cast a spell when Malfoy put his hand up in a silencing gesture, the pretentious little prat.

“Ah, you don't want to make any rash moves either, (L/n),” he said, looking to your left. You followed his gaze to see Avery coming out of the foliage, grappling with someone under his arm.

“Potter?!”

James smiled weakly as Avery held him in a choke hold, a bit of blood dripping down the side of his head.

“Hey,” he said, humor still light in his voice, “So, this didn't exactly work out as planned.” He groaned as Avery's elbow was driven into his stomach, effectively silencing him.

As soon as you tried to move towards him, Lucius had his wand pointed at you.

“Let him go and get lost, Malfoy,” you said lowly, “you've taken this far enough.”

“You've been avoiding us, (L/n),” Lucius said, ignoring you entirely, “Snape may have come up with some rubbish excuses for you earlier, but you can't keep running from this.”

“If practicing curses on first years and terrorizing other people is how you plan on using magic, then I don't want any part of your little cult,” you spat, “face it, Malfoy— you lot need me, but I don't need you.”

Lucius exhaled sharply, his genuine surprise at your resistance replaced quickly with anger.

“Think about what you're doing, (L/n),” he said, his eyes narrowing dangerously, “don't be a fool like your father.”

That did it.

With a growl you unleashed an orange bolt of energy from your wand, your Stupefy hitting Lucius square in the chest. Mulciber was quick to retaliate with a jinx of his own, which you quickly nullified with a shield charm. Shock flashed across his expression at your casual use of nonverbal magic, and he recovered one second too late.

Sirius was back on his feet, petrifying Mulciber and swatting Wilkes away like a fly with the knockback jinx before either could cast a spell at you. You and Sirius found yourselves back to back, fending off Lucius as he continued to direct a steady stream of curses in your direction. Sirius managed to create an opening for you and you turned to where James was being held.

“Evanossa!”

A flash of blue hit Avery, who shrieked in horror when he saw that the arm he was using to hold Potter had turned gelatinous, fingers drooping down like melting ice cream. James wasted no time paying him back in kind for roughing him up earlier, sending him flying into the oak tree and using the water from the Black Lake to freeze him there before joining you in the fray.

“Expelliarmus!” he called out, sending Wilke's wand spinning out of his reach and leaving only Malfoy against the three of you.

Lucius faltered for a moment as he stared down your group of three, but held fast.

“Leave it, Malfoy,” you said, “it's over.”

He growled under his breath, taking up an obvious offensive stance, but you were too quick.

“Ebublio!”

Lucius gasped as he suddenly found himself encased in a giant bubble, his knockback jinx ricocheting off the inside and hitting him in the back of the head. He pounded against the bubble in frustration but found it to be thick as Plexiglas and just as strong, unable to pop it. Suddenly, he was hoisted into the air as you raised your wand higher, directing him farther and farther away until he was hovering directly over the Black Lake.

“Let me go this instant!” he growled.

A devilish smile graced your features.

“You got it.”

“No, wait, don't you dar—AHH!!”

You turned your back on him, your breaking eye contact promptly bursting the bubble and sending him flailing into the water a few feet below.

You chuckled as you sent a few quick counter-jinxes out from your wand, restoring Mulciber's range of motion and liquefying the ice that trapped Avery.

As soon as Mulciber was unpetrified he took off running towards the Lake where Lucius was furiously treading water, tripping over his feet as he dragged Wilkes along with him. Avery limped after them, defrosted but still chilled to his bones (which you had been so kind to also restore).

“I'd fish him out quickly if I were you,” you called after them, “the giant squid is more active at night.”

“You're out of your mind, (L/n)!” Avery turned around and yelled, but with fear evident in his eyes, “You'll live to regret this, mark my words. The Headmaster—”

“Would love to know who cast the first spell, I'm sure,” you said darkly.

Avery stammered out some lame response under his breath before turning around and running after the rest of group, retreating.

Sirius turned to look at you, awestruck and chocked full of adrenaline. Maybe you really weren't so bad after all.

“That was. . .” James trailed off, grasping for the words and blurting them out as soon as he found them, “Brilliant, (Y/n). You're bloody brilliant.”

You felt your face heat up, not expecting that. You and James had stopped trading insults and threats (serious ones, anyways) and your teasing had become well meant, but neither of you had crossed the threshold of actually paying the other a compliment before.

“Thanks, Potter,” you said, unable to fight the smile on your face. You turned to Sirius briefly. “I hope this cleared some things up for us,” you said, “I'd really like to try and be friends, so. . .”

“Yeah,” Sirius said, wanting to kick himself at the way you turned him into a monosyllabic neanderthal with just a look. You gave him a small smile before turning back to James who was trying desperately to hide his limp and aching rib cage.

“Alright, let's get you to the hospital wing, Potter,” you sighed, “you look like a cheap action star in a muggle movie.”

“Uh,” James said nervously, “better we not. If I go to Madame Pomfrey three times in one day she'll never let me hear the end of it.”

“And who's fault is that?” You huffed, slinging an arm over his shoulder and helping him walk, “at least let me patch you up, then.”

Sirius followed some distance behind you, watching as you walked James back towards the castle and laughed at his occasional jokes. This one night had just turned everything upside down for Sirius. This whole time he was sure that he didn't like you because you were a blood-purist Slytherin and he was jealous that you were taking his best friend away from him; but the way you had stood up to Lucius and his goons made your position on blood politics very clear, and the tight feeling that struck Sirius' chest as he watched you cozy up with James made him reevaluate just which one of you he was jealous of.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Sirius?”

The man blinked, slowly coming back to reality. You were looking up at him in concern, your head resting lightly on his shoulder. It took an embarrassing amount of his willpower to keep from leaning forward just a few inches and kissing you.

Could you pick a worse time, you numbskull? He thought, mentally smacking himself for even thinking about it.

“Are you okay?” you asked hesitantly after he stayed silent.

“I'm alright,” he insisted, giving you a reassuring smile, “just. . . thinking about how far we've come.”

His answer surprised you, though not in a bad way.

“I suppose we have,” you smiled back, “this is a far cry from you scowling at me from across the Great Hall over your breakfast.”

“I did not scowl,” Sirius scoffed playfully, nudging you away with his shoulder.

“Right,” you grinned, “scowling, glaring, glowering, whichever you prefer.”

“I said I was sorry,” he said, putting his hands up in mock surrender, although you both knew you weren't really upset about it. You'd long since forgiven him for his initial misjudgment.

When your light laughter died down, your head found itself lulling to the side again, tiredness taking over your mind as you rested against Sirius once more. When you tilted your head up to look at him he had a surprisingly pensive look on his face. Your eyes traveled across his expression, his gray eyes almost taking on a deep shade of blue in the shadows of his room. You noticed how much younger he looked when he was smiling; it was in moments like these when it really set in how long you had known each other, because you could see the years in his eyes.

Your own flickered down to his lips in spite of yourself and Sirius' heart skipped a beat, fearing you could feel it racing in his rib cage. When had you turned him so soft? He chuckled inwardly. Long before he had fully come to terms with how he felt about you was the answer. Even when he was in Azkaban, with two of his closest friends dead and the world convinced he was at fault, even if he had to live with the fact that he would never see you again, he still thought of you, and that kept him alive, sane— himself. But now you were here in front of him, and he was terrified that at any moment you would vanish into thin air and he would find himself back in that horrible cinder block cell, face to face with a dementor as it took his last memories of you away from him.

Your hand squeezed his, almost as if you had read his thoughts— as if you were assuring him that you were real, and you weren't going anywhere. You noticed him leaning in closer, even if he didn't, possessed by some invisible force. You were nearly about to meet him halfway when you were suddenly startled apart by the sound of quick, heavy-footed steps bounding down the stairs.

You both looked at each other as if you had just awoken from some sort of trance, instinctively putting some distance between yourselves as you shifted away awkwardly.

“I. . . I should probably get to bed,” you said, your face warm.

“Right,” Sirius said, reluctantly getting up from his seat at the edge of his bed, “I've kept you up long enough, I'm sure you're tired. . .”

Before you left his room you turned over your shoulder, a small smile on your face.

“It's really good to see you again, Sirius,” you said earnestly, “we should catch up for real later.”

“Definitely,” he said, a bit of his old self reflected in that smirk of his, albeit forced.

You steeled yourself, turning the doorknob and closing the door behind you gently before you did something to ruin the friendship you had just gotten back after over a decade. You shook the thought aside, your head hurting. You really did need to sleep after today.

You were about to head into your room, but something in you didn't feel quite right. You'd definitely heard someone go down the stairs, but you hadn't heard the front door open or close. Dread pooled in your stomach at your gut feeling, and you found yourself inexplicably making your way back down the stairs.

The house was eerily silent now that its residents had either gone off to bed or disapparated until the next meeting in a few days time. You'd left Sirius upstairs, and you knew Harry was staying here for the time being until school began, but everyone else had gone home. So then why did you still feel someone else's presence so acutely?

You stared at the empty hallway leading to the front door, taking a cautious step forward; the image in front of you didn't feel real. The colors were too saturated, the edges too sharp, and the surfaces too smooth. And that's when it hit you. The smell of rain. Leather-bound books. Lavender.

You froze, staring at the seemingly empty space in front of you.

“Severus?”

The potions master didn't dare make a sound, thinly veiled behind his invisibility charm but clearly not well enough. He was standing not three feet in front of you, taking in the sight of you as if it were the last thing he would ever see.

He panicked slightly as he felt you reach out to him with your mind, shutting himself off expertly. Your hurt expression as you were unable to detect anything pained him, but he wouldn't dare think that he deserved to say anything to you. What was there to say after everything he'd done?

Your gaze roamed the empty hall, and for a moment he could have sworn you stared him right in the eyes.

You knew he was there.

The moment lasted no longer than a second before you looked away, turning to go back up the stairs. As soon as your back was facing the front door you heard it open then close gently, and the tears you had been fighting to hold back finally spilled over.

Read chapter 4 here !

Taglist:  @sleep-i-ness, @blackpinkdolan, @parker-natasha, @ornella0910 @undertaker1827 @thatwierdo-koemi​

[candyflosstoxicity]

Wanna Be Your Setting Lotion

Endeavor x Black!Reader

Warnings: 18+, minors DNI. Power imbalance. Unsafe sex. Creampie. Breeding kink. Breath play. Pain play.

Despite the sizable uptick in his popularity after triumphing over the High-End Nomu, Enji still felt that his ability to relate to the everyday civilians was sorely lacking. There was still some doubt amongst the masses that he could be a suitable replacement for All Might. As much as that stung his ego, Enji knew that their misgivings weren’t unfounded.

He had promised his son that he would become a hero that he could be proud to call his father, and that meant more than just saving lives. Enji had to work to build a relationship with the public, and be a hero that was not only powerful, but approachable and relatable.

So, with his secretary’s assistance, Enji reached out to the most highly recommended media relations agency in Musutafu and requested that they pair him with a very particular type of publicist. He made sure to specify that they had to be thick-skinned and prepared to undertake all the work that would come with being the publicist to the number one hero. Though he had certainly made some important changes within himself, he still didn’t know how to talk to people and didn’t want to send the publicist running for the hills.

That was how you ended up standing outside the Endeavor Hero Agency. The glass skyscraper gleamed brightly under the sun, and really impressed upon you that this was happening. You had been assigned your first hero, but not just any run of the mill hero and it honestly had you feeling nervous in a way that you never had before. It’s not as if you doubted your ability to manage and improve the Flame Hero’s public image, but this was a major assignment that could either launch your career into the stratosphere or sink it like a stone.

After taking a few deep breaths to steady yourself, you walked briskly through the front entrance and into the main lobby, where you were greeted by the receptionist. You explained who you were and what you were there for, and she immediately hopped up from her desk in a panic and hastily led you to the elevator. It did nothing to quell your anxiety, because if his receptionist was losing her cool, what chance did you have against the man?

Upon reaching the top floor, the receptionist all but shoved you out of the elevator, giving you a hasty “good luck” while frantically pushing the button to close the door. You stumbled forward and were faced with a large, hardwood door. Having decided that you simply could not delay your assignment any further, you squared your shoulders, took decisive steps forward, and knocked on the door.

---------------------

That was several months ago, and you could say with hindsight that you were right to be anxious. While working for Endeavor was the best way to cut your teeth as a publicist, the man himself was...something fucking else.

It wasn’t just that he was physically intimidating, with his towering height and mountains of muscle. Honestly, you were able to quickly get past that and start working towards building a friendly, yet professional relationship with your boss. Except, he was the most tight-lipped, awkward person you had ever dealt with when he wasn’t in the process of saving lives. And when he was actually somewhat talkative, he was so intense that it left you flustered.

However, Enji always treated you with respect and courtesy, and when you did well, he told you as much. Heat would crawl its way from the top of your head to the tips of your toes whenever he would tell you, “You’ve done excellent work this week, (L/N)-san. Your efforts are appreciated.”

To anyone else and coming from anyone else, it might not mean much, but Todoroki Enji wasn’t just anyone. He had high standards for all of his employees, and you were no exception. Praise from him was hard to come by, and when it was directed at you, it made you feel some type of way.

It was obvious to everyone with a pulse that Enji was an incredibly attractive man. Indeed, every interview you scheduled for him with a female journalist found him being inundated with coy smiles, flirting, and pointed questions about his relationship status.

To be fair, you had asked him the same question, but only because it was important for you to know as the person who handled all of his public relations. It definitely wasn’t because you were lusting after your client and hoping that he was free to maybe, someday, knock your walls down.

Still, you had always prided yourself on being the consummate professional, so you refrained from asking any questions that were too personal. Even though you were so often alone with Enji in his penthouse office, with little to no interruption, and a lot of plush furniture he could fuck you on…

You shook your head sharply, your dark, curly hair moving with the motion. ‘Focus, bitch. Don’t be a goofy and try to fuck your boss. He would probably fire your ass before you could ask for a crumb of dick.’

It didn’t matter if you hadn’t gotten laid since you started working as his publicist; you were NOT going to fuck Todoroki Enji.

Little did you know, Enji was enduring his own share of suffering and sexual frustration. And he had no intentions of denying himself. For him, it was simply a matter of opportunity.

--------------------------

It was finally Friday evening, and Enji was more than ready for the weekend. After a solid week of double patrols, while squeezing in PR appearances that you had set up for him, he just wanted to sit down in his recliner at home and have a stiff drink. He was sitting at his desk with his laptop open, finishing up some last minute paperwork on a report he needed to submit to the Hero Public Safety Commission by Monday.

Just as he put the final signature on the last page, you came bursting through his office door, without knocking, of course. Not that he minded; it was always a treat to see you, even if you were a bit...distracting. Your shapely legs carried you briskly towards his desk and he couldn’t help but admire how enticing they looked sheathed in your sheer stockings. He almost missed what you were trying to tell him, too busy imagining them wrapped around his waist.

“Endeavor-san, I’m sorry to disturb you right before quittin’ time, but I just finalized the details of your appearance on Present Mic’s late night radio show for next weekend,” you chirped with no small amount of satisfaction. Ah, right; Enji had agreed to make time for that, considering Mic was very popular with the young crowd and an appearance on his show would do wonders for his popularity with that demographic.

“He promised to keep it light and casual, and most of the time block will be spent playing some music that you both enjoy. I cross-referenced his playlist with the list you compiled, and y’all have some bangers in common. We’ll need to go over your note cards again, but I’m sure you’ve got that part covered by now.”

Your eyes were focused on the folder in your hands, flipping through the papers there as you went over the last minute details. Enji’s eyes were watching you, though, and he found himself struggling to give a damn about Present Mic or his radio show. Not when you were standing before him, a radiant vision of smooth brown skin and a halo of curls. How badly he wanted to sink his fingers into them and tug your head back, make you submit to him…

“Endeavor-san, are you listening?”

The question coming from your pretty lips, in that sweet, but sharp voice, was enough to finally get his attention. He tore his gaze from your petite frame and looked up to see your dark brown eyes staring at him sternly. Enji coughed and shifted in his chair, trying to subtly adjust his now rock hard dick.

“My apologies, (Y/N), I’m a bit worn out from this week,” he hastily assured you. “If you wouldn’t mind emailing those notes to me, I will look over them again this weekend.”

Your expression softened and you tossed the folder onto his desk before walking around to the side and perching yourself on the edge. Enji could practically feel the blood rush to his dick with you sitting so close to him, the scent of your perfume immediately clouding his mind. Your already short skirt rode up even higher and he had to force himself to look you in the eye, which he regretted shortly after.

“Have I been riding you too hard, sir?”

Enji’s eyes narrowed slightly at you, thinking that you must be toying with him. But, your face was devoid of cunning, and you seemed genuinely concerned for his well-being. He wasn’t used to that kind of consideration from really anyone, especially not one of his employees.

“No, far from it. You probably take it a bit too easy on me, but you still produce amazing results. I would be completely clueless about this public relations crap if I didn’t have someone as bright and clever in my corner,” Enji rumbled, almost bashfully, the tips of his ears still pink from your accidental innuendo.

He had no way of knowing, but the feeling that Enji’s praise gave you was like a shot of adrenaline to you. Warmth bloomed in your cheeks, and you quickly began stuttering and trying to downplay your contribution. However, Enji was having none of it and reached out to grab your anxiously fluttering hands, which had the desired effect of shutting you up.

But, Enji didn’t stop there. He was tired of you not giving yourself enough credit. More than that, he was tired of only being able to show his gratitude in words. So, he took advantage of your size difference and tugged you into his arms and then settled you on his right thigh, forcing you to straddle the muscular appendage.

“E-Endeavor-san?!” you squeaked out. Your tiny hands were encased in his much larger ones and even that small bit of skin to skin contact was enough to set a fire low in your belly.

“Please, call me Enji. It seems a bit formal considering the things I want to do to you.”

“And what exactly do you want to do to me, Enji?” Your voice was low and breathless, but he could see the excitement clearly in your deep brown eyes.

He released your hands and let his own wander down the curve of your sides to settle on your hips. Still maintaining eye contact with you, he engulfed the soft flesh there with a gentle, but firm squeeze. You gasped softly and instinctually ground down against the flexing muscles of his thigh.

Enji growled lowly in his throat and took one hand off your hip, and reached up to bury it in the soft curls that framed your gorgeous face. At first, he gently massaged the scalp with his fingertips, but when he felt you relax, Enji used the curls at your nape to tug your head back.

He loved how small you were in his arms, how easily he towered over you and controlled your movements. And there you were, gasping and squirming in his lap, letting him touch you in such a dominating way. It stoked a fire within him that he hadn’t felt in a long while, urging him to make you fall apart under his touch.

“There are so many things that I want to do to this tight, little body,” Enji whispered against your throat. He placed a heated kiss there, followed by a gentle nip before continuing, “But, for now, I want you to ride my thigh.”

To his delight, you didn’t hesitate to start meekly rolling your hips forward, your skirt bunching up around your waist with the motions. Still, you seemed to be holding yourself back, and he was having none of that. Using the hand that was still gripping your hip, Enji forced you to press down harder and move faster. Getting the message, you braced your palms against his broad, solid chest and began grinding against him in earnest.

The filthy moans you let spill from your plump lips were music to Enji’s ears, and he struggled to refrain from just ripping your stockings off and sliding your down onto his aching dick. There would be plenty of time for that later, but in that moment, he wanted to make you felt just how appreciated you were.

“Come on, little sparrow, I know you’re close. I can feel you soaking my pants leg.”

The desperation and desire in his voice drove your lust even higher. That, combined with the friction of your nylon stockings against your bare pussy, had you teetering on the edge of release.

“Please, sir!” You didn’t know what you were asking for, but he seemed to. And he was going to make you beg for it.

“Please what?”

“I...I want you to fuck me, sir! Please let me cum on your dick,” you pleaded with a breathless whine, never ceasing your wanton grinding.

“Oh, you will be cumming on my dick. But, first, you’re going to make yourself nice and sloppy for me.”

Enji gripped your hair tighter and pulled your head back until your spine arched. Now, your nails were digging into the skin of his pectorals, but he didn’t care because the end result was you humping against him with reckless abandon. No longer needing to guide your movements, he reached up and wrapped his other hand around your delicate throat, squeezing just enough to make the blood rush to your head. That was just enough to tip you right over the edge.

“Oh, oh!” Your hips began to stutter slightly in their movements as your orgasm crept up on you. A scream that surprised you, but made Enji growl in triumph, was ripped from your throat as you bucked wildly through the peak of your release. Letting go of your tresses and throat, Enji pulled you gently into his chest and ran his hands soothingly down your back. As your body trembled and quaked through the vestiges of your orgasm, he murmured soft praises into the crown of your hair.

“You did such a good job for me, baby girl. I’m so proud of you and all your hard work. Are you ready for your reward now?”

Despite the fact that you had just cum your brains out, his words of praise had you moaning wantonly, your head bobbing lazily in consent. Enji wasted no time in standing you up between his legs, supporting your weight effortlessly as he slid his hands up your inner thighs towards the crotch of your stockings. A brief, but loud ripping sound echoed in the spacious office, and then you felt a cool breeze against your soaked lips. Enji took a moment to run a thick finger through your dainty folds, making you shudder and moan.

Enji considered having you ride him again, but a glance at the large sectional he had in the corner of the room gave him other ideas. Picking you up as if you weighed nothing, he carried you to the luxurious piece of furniture and laid you down on your back. He immediately covered your body with his own and locked his lips with yours, the kiss quickly turning heated. While your lips moved together with unrestrained passion, he busied himself with undoing his belt and slacks. Once he got them undone, he freed his aching length from the confines of his underwear, hissing at the sensation of the cool air hitting the too hot skin.

Pulling away from your soft warmth, Enji made you look him in the eye before he asked, “It seems a bit late to ask, but are you sure this is what you want?”

Thinking he was just being considerate, you smiled softly up at him and nodded in affirmation. He kissed you hard, one more time, before looking down to guide his more than impressive dick to your dripping entrance. As soon as he pressed the head in, you knew what he was really asking you before, which was whether you could handle being stretched to your absolute limit.

You threw your head back, pressing into the soft cushion underneath you, and struggled to breathe around the sensation of his girth splitting you open. It was a good thing he made sure you were wet enough beforehand, otherwise, you were sure that you wouldn’t have been able to take all of him.

Enji made sure to take his time pressing in and withdrawing, inch by inch, enraptured by the sight of your pretty pussy stretching around him. It was a couple minutes more before he was fully seated inside you, the head of his dick pressed snugly against your cervix. He paused his movements to press sweet, but rough kisses along your jaw and collarbones. You reached up and buried your fingers in his hair, applying the barest pressure to bring his face closer to yours so you could press your foreheads together.

“I’d really like for you to move now,” you panted softly. Sure, it was quite the stretch having him inside you, but it didn’t hurt and you were still filled with a burning desire to be wrecked by the giant hovering over you.

Withdrawing slowly, so slowly, Enji paused again to watch your face as he gave a quick, experimental thrust. The cry of pleasure you let out snapped his resolve to continue taking it slow, and he began to fuck into you with a vigor. All you could do is tighten your grip on his red locks and hold on for the ride.

“God, you feel so good wrapped around me. Do you have any idea how long I have wanted this? How many times I’ve fantasized about fucking into you like this, making you my little cumdump?”

Enji was actually caught off guard with how visceral your reaction was to his dirty talk. He didn’t think it possible, but you became even tighter around his dick, nails biting into his scalp, as well. You began trying to thrust back up against him, but he was having none of that. Enji pulled back just enough to take your legs and throw them over his shoulders so he could put you in a mating press.

“Oh gods, yes, just like this, Daddy!” you wailed loudly, tears gathering in the corners of your eyes. You were overwhelmed with the pleasure from his rigid member rubbing against your velvet walls with the new angle.

A groan that sounded like a snarl rumbled in Enji’s chest at the sound of your fucked out voice calling him ‘Daddy’. It made him want to grind his dick deeper into you, until all you could see, feel, or taste was him and the pleasure he was giving to you.

“Fuck, if you call me that again, I’m going to fucking cum and I’m not going to pull out.” He expected you to object, or something but instead, you attempted to pull him in closer with the strength of your legs alone.

“Please, please, please fill me up, Daddy! I want it all, please, give it to me!”

Pace quickening at your filthy words, Enji leaned forward until you were practically pressed in half and his thrusts had the tip of his dick bumping your womb with every plunge deeper. You were unable to even scream, the air knocked from your lungs and your brain foggy with thought-warping ecstasy.

“Goddammit, you’re gonna make me cum, baby. I’m gonna fill you up to the brim. Gonna make you round with my child. Is that what you want?”

All you could do was nod frantically, incoherent pleas and his name spilling from your drooling mouth in an endless stream. You would do anything, say anything, just to feel his hot cum paint your walls.

From the way you were clenching and pulsing around him, Enji knew that you were close to the precipice again already, and he was ready to tumble over right along with you. Letting go of the last bit of restraint holding him back, Enji captured your lips in a searing kiss and swallowed your cries of passion as he began to piston into your tight heat, chasing his orgasm and hurtling you towards yours.

A shrill scream muffled by his lips and the sharp tightening of your walls around him signaled to Enji that you were cumming, and he quickly followed after you. His powerful hips stuttered once, twice before he drove his entire length fully inside you and stilled, his head pressed to the opening of your womb. Much hotter than you were expecting it to be, spurts of cum that seemed endless gushed deep inside you, prolonging both of your orgasms to the point of over-sensitivity.

When you both finally came down and got your breathing under control, Enji slowly pulled out from you and gently eased your legs off his shoulders. He gathered you up in an embrace and flipped the two of you over so that you were laid on top of him, head resting against his chest. Again, he stroked your back and sides soothingly, murmuring words of praise and comfort.

For your part, you were fucking wiped, your heart still racing and brown skin dewed with sweat. You could feel cum leaking out of your abused hole, but could hardly be bothered to care with exhaustion and satiation weighing so heavily on your eyes.

With strong arms wrapped around you and every bone in your body feeling like marshmallow, you snuggled closer to Enji and fell asleep to the steady pulse of his heart in your ear.

[writing-in-april]

Braided Brat

Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Summary: Spencer lets Reader braid his hair, he can’t help but tease her.

A/N: This is the 4th of 7 fics for my 750 follower celebration!!! I’ve had this idea floating around for a while so I decided to finally write it! This is my first real dabble at a full on bratty Spencer so let me know what y’all think! And also I dabbled in trying second person again, I think it’s starting to grow on me. As always thank you @spencers-dria for helping me talk through my fic ideas!! Go check out her fics!!

Warnings: 18+, Bratty Spencer, Established d/s relationship, Unprotected sex, Penatrative sex , Quick hanjob, Slight cockwarming, Edging

Main Masterlist Word count: 1.2k

You could barely believe that Spencer was actually letting you do this to him, you had been begging for months for it. Once his hair had started to become rather on the long side all you could think about was braiding his beautiful wavy tresses.

He was sitting on the freshly vacuumed floor of your apartment with you sitting on the sofa in only a sweater and panties. You were excited that he was finally acquiescing to your request with so far, with little to no complaint. You chose to do two braids running parallel to each other with the weave pattern of three strands crossed under each other. Each weave was strategically placed by your hands as you weaved the strands of his wavy hair together, he was finally giving you permission to do this and you were going to do it perfectly.

The first time you felt his hand gently touch your leg you thought nothing of it, your subconscious only acknowledging it as a simple accidental brush against your skin. But, when his fingers brushed up against your calf for the fourth time, this time with a slightly stronger touch.

“You know you're not supposed to tease, that’s my job.” You said with a slight snicker, finding his neediness amusing. He often would try and tease you like this when he wanted some attention. You would not put up with it for long, if he really wanted your touch he would have to use his words. When he did not stop his teasing you decided to give him another warning, this time with a little more bite to your tone, “You’re going to make me mess up these pretty braids if you don’t stop.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He tilted his head up to look at you with a coy smirk. Spencer may be a genius, but he was not that good of a liar, you could see through his words easily.

“Now you’re just being a brat. If you act good I’ll give you what you want.” Teeth clenching together hard speaking with venom in your tone, while tieing off his braids. Then, you made sure to punctuate your displeasure with a sharp tug of his braids, craning his neck as far back as it would go. He moaned pornographically in response to you tugging at his hair, so loud that it was definitely an exaggeration, meant to provoke you even more. “I guess you’ve decided to be bratty tonight Spencer. Are you sure you really want to do that?”

He nodded eagerly at your words, ready for his punishment. Usually, you would doll out spankings if he decided to be bratty, but today you’re pretty sure that’s what Spencer is aiming for. Would it really be a punishment if you gave him what he wanted?

When you moved off the couch to straddle him you made sure to keep your weight shifted away from his hurt leg, instead putting most of your weight on his cock that was trapped within his slacks. You briefly considered not even letting him be free of being confined from his slacks, but the thrumming of your clit quickly changed your mind. Grasping his jaw between your two fingers you drank in the sight of him in the braids, he looked so pretty like this, there was no doubt he definitely was your pretty boy. You then twisted his jaw to face away from you, to allow you access to his pretty little neck.

After making sure you were satisfied with the hickies and love bites you had peppered on his neck, you pulled his belt from the loops of his pants quickly. You then made a show of helping pull his pants and boxers off slowly before finally restraddling him.

Just from your own slight teasing Spencer was already rock hard, his cock flushed rosy red and precum beginning to bead at the tip. You couldn’t resist teasing him one more time before indulging your desires. You spit into your hand so you could slick up his cock and also spread around the precum that had begun to bead out. He was so easy to ruin, he was already jerking his hips desperately into your hand after a few long strokes. He knew he wasn’t supposed to move with my permission, so you roughly shoved his hips down back into the floor.

“Miss, please?” He whimpered in question to you, but you ignored him, instead choosing to release his now aching cock. The way he writhed underneath you made you even more excited, your own arousal now completely soaking your panties.

“You beg so easily? What did you think was gonna happen when you decided to be a brat.”

Once his the edges of his orgasm had completely dissipated you hooked your panties to the side and lined him up to your entrance. He had a look of glee on his face, thinking he was getting what he wanted while you sunk down slowly. You made sure to relish in every ridge and vein you could feel as he dragged slowly through his walls.

Not wanting to end the scene too quickly, you stayed still on top of his cock after you had fully sunk down on him, loving the feeling of being full. It didn’t take him long to start begging you to please move, miss. The only reason you obliged him and started bouncing on his cock was because your own patience was wearing dangerously thin. You wanted to orgasm just as much as he did.

It only took a few minutes of your movements and listening to Spencer’s broken pleas for you to start feeling the fringes of an orgasm. However, you weren’t going to be the one to push yourself over the edge. It was Spencer’s job to make sure his mistress got what she desired.

“Come on then, service your mistress. Make me cum, brat.” He scrambled to start rubbing your clit in earnest after hearing your command, most likely thinking that if he satisfied you well enough maybe he would get to finish as well. As your orgasm crested over and the waves crashed down around you you gripped Spencer’s jaw again. You loved the way it felt to have him begging underneath you, completely at your mercy.

“Say you‘re sorry. Say you’re sorry and maybe I’ll let you cum.” You spoke with deadly conviction after you rode out your euphoria, you doubted however, that Spencer would be able to convince you.

“I’m sorry, Miss! I’m sorry I teased you! Please let me c-cummm!” He babbled on, his words devolving into unintelligible whines when you started to slam your hips down to meet his own even harder. Unfortunately for Spencer, you were unsatisfied with his plea.

“You should’ve thought about that before you teased me.” The broken moan of despair that fell from his lips as you pulled off of him almost made you cave, but you remained steadfast as you got up to start cleaning him up. “Maybe, you’ll be able to tomorrow. If I let you, brat.”

—-

Tag list (message me if you want to be added):

All works: @shotarosleftpinky

Spencer Reid/CM:

@calm-and-doctor @destiny-tsukino @safertokiss

Sub Spencer:

@thatsonezesty13 @pastathighs @virtualpeanutartisanjudge

[savnofilter]

Kinktober Day 8

dabi

☠️ warning(s): 𝕦𝕟𝕚𝕗𝕠𝕣𝕞𝕤, chikan, exhibition, voyeurism, anal, humiliation kink, age difference, con-dubcon.

☠️ genre: smut, holiday special.

☠️ words: 3k [12 minutes, 10 seconds].

☠️ read more: kinktober(uary)

☠️ summary: after a long day of university youre coerced into giving him a show... along with the rest of the passengers on the metro train.

It was almost perverse on how much he enjoyed this. Scratch that, it is perverse. It was the hidden secret that even with leaving his old lifestyle he fucked his younger sister’s best friend. None of his family knew of his existence for a million reasons that weren’t going to be met in this story. Yet he didn’t care. As long as he had you still crawling back to him was enough to satisfy his dark desires without a care in the world. Except for the fact even with him accidentally running into you and somehow starting the dangerous entanglement was beyond him.

Just like right now. He wasn't expecting to see you pile into the train with the same uniform you wore for your school, your body begging for him to claim his prize while at the same time telling everyone to go fuck off. Dabi knew his objective as soon as he saw you, moving in to fill the missing gap you needed to be occupied. The train started to move once you got comfortable, your body posture meek as you raised your hand to hold onto the bars, the other holding your cute little school bag close to your body. Even with the clear embodiment of your school uniform dressing your shoulders and left chest it was clear you were nothing more than a university student, the only thing making you look so… delectable being the way you had filled it out.

Now, had you been someone else a stranger to Dabi he wouldn’t have looked your way but seeing as you were rocking just ever slightly, the fabric of your clothing rising just a bit higher is what piqued his interest. It gave him an almost unpleasant tenseness in his chest, knowing that this was a combo you rarely wore unless something was wrong in the laundry or it was your last backup. He didn’t miss the creeps that eyed you, his dark aura shooting them off as he made them think twice.

He’d just have to show them something that they’re missing.

Dabi stepped closer to press up against your smaller frame, the feeling of him catching you off guard. You swallowed as you could feel his body, the bumps, and ridges of his outfit signature with his familiar scent you were used to washing over you with a wave of relief, holding back the need to smile as you peeked back at him with an almost glad look on your face.

“I thought you were someone else.” You spoke fluently. He chuckled as you looked as if he had saved the day as if he wasn’t the villain between you two. He moved his head to nuzzle your neck, his hands wrapping just under your breast and pressing his hips into yours.

“You should be glad I saved you~,” Dabi remarked in a smug tone. You could feel your cheeks heat at the gesture. Whether or not the blood flow showed up on your cheeks wasn’t a concern to you at the moment, the small suspicion that his little small talk wasn’t going to end as innocently as it had started. You bit your lip as his arms aided in pressing your chest against you’re already tight button up. “Heroes get presents, right?” The pressure created a small gap to accentuate, showing bits of your bra and skin that was underneath.

“Wh-What are you doing?” You stuttered as the small attention that one time was brought away from you was slowly coming back, making you shrink back into him as your false safe haven.

“Nothing,” Dabi mumbles against the skin of your neck, the train hitting a more than convenient bump on the track. You whimpered as you rubbed your thighs together, as much you tried to hide it you loved it when people watched you like this. Even though with your attempts to dress as if the thought of sex never crossed your mind you couldn’t help but start to get aroused at the thought of Dabi using you on a train like this for perverts to watch. He chuckled as he could feel your breath start to deepen, keeping your head down as you tried to conceal yourself with the arm that carried the weight of your bag.

Dabi was starting to get bored. His hand came up to dance across the fabric of the button, playing coy before tugging the other side from the other and popping the buttons in the process. Quietly gasped once he had done so, your chest now being partly bared to the world… much to your pleasure. Your tits strained at your bra, the smooth bumps of the train not making it better for your “cause”.

“Stay still for me, doll, okay~?” He whispered against your ear, the sound of his voice making you shiver. You couldn’t help but nod meekly, not daring to look up at the mixture of disapproval and horniness that started to fill the train. His hand scooped up into your bra and brought your tits out into the public view, your nipples rock hard as you tried to keep up your little act to convince yourself you weren’t getting turned on by this.

But you were. 

The excitement alone was starting to make you drip annoying as it was.

Dabi already knowing you were, his hands left your upper body, coming up under your skirt and shirking your underwear. There was clear dampness on the thin fabric, the embarrassment of it all going straight to your clit. You whimpered as the air caressed your now exposed intimate bits. His hand came up to cup your sex, letting a sound of surprise at the feeling of your drenched lips against his fingers. “Oh? The bitch is wet~” He mused happily, slipping two fingers into you happily. The sound of his middle and ring fingers slipping into you made an obnoxious noise, your thighs quivering as his fingers were always able to find well inside your needy cunt. His fingers were quick in working in you, his main objective only to have you wet enough to take his already aching cock. Your back arched as you encouraged him to continue in using you as he pleased, his hand making a move to help open your shirt more and pull down your bra fully. Any eye who wanted to watch could, watching as this patched man toyed with this innocent girl on the train.

His fingers left your cunt to give it a small slap, not holding on to the force or ferocity of it. The feeling made you yelp, the sound of both gaining new watchers while some chose to ignore it. Your breathing was heavy as people eyed you, probably wishing that Dabi would do the world some justice and rip off the tiny skirt that you had also worn that hid all the good bits. All they could see was him teasing you and being able to use you the way you were supposed to be used.

“Come on, scarface, pass her over-”

“Fuck off and watch.” He cuts off the loser hastily, his glare glaring at them to let them know to keep away still. “You think any of you greasy fucks can touch her,” He started before he side-eyed you, his famous grin spreading across his mouth when the thought of having these bastards touch upon you was something you wanted. “Hm… maybe the bitch wants it~? Use your word’s, doll~” He taunts, turning you around so your front is pressed against him. Your bag dropped as you braced yourself against him, your legs stabling yourself against him. “If you don’t use your words I’m assuming it’s a no.”

You bit your lip as you at least wanted to keep some of your dignity. Nowhere in your life did you think you were going to be able to live out your fantasy to be used on a public train for anyone and everyone to see, the helpful tool of your mask only concealing your identity as if something was looking out for your well being… as if. His hand flipped up your skirt and exposed the last parts no one else on the train had been able to see but him. Your face buried into his neck once he did the action, your ass now on display with your dripping cunt peeking through the small gap between your legs. Dabi's hands reached back from your waist and grabbed the cheeks apart, showcasing the part between your legs and glistening cunt. He looked over your shoulder to watch as your asshole clenched in excitement, your position looking no better than a bitch in heat. There were a few mutters and mumbles as he displayed you, the original action surprising you.

“D-Dabi-” Your plea was cut off by his hand coming up and tugging your mask down and pressing his lips against yours. His tongue was already violating your mouth, growling as his hand lifted and of slaps against your unmarked skin. Each time your thicc backside jiggled and teased with what was really between it, your eyes watching up at his. The feeling was oddly intimate as if he wasn’t exposing you to the train for voyeurism perverts alike. He pulled away once he had felt satisfied enough, dragging you to sit in his lap once he was sitting in a seat. He tucked your skirt into its band to prevent it from blocking from view, the sound of a few shutters sounded as some went to get a close up of your mostly trimmed cunt, the fact that both your cunt and asshole still had some on it was more arousing to the public eye. Which is what Dabi liked.

His hands found their way to unbuckle his pants and free his hard cock. If the sparse amount of women on the train were loathing not being in your position and only silently observing, they now were jealous. His cock slapped against your cunt once it was free from his tight pants, the hardness of it making it stick up proudly. He tries to hold back his pleasure of letting people his manhood as well, the Prince Albert piercings doing his already impressive cock justice in turning this debaucherous situation exciting.

He thrusts his hips upwards to rub his cock against your soaked labia, a deep moan sounding when he’s able to slip his cock to rub just ever so slightly between the cheeks of your ass. His hands were on your ass again, spreading them as he guided to take his length. Have already been able to take his cock during the late nights and sometimes early morning you had no problem doing so. Your heartbeat was faster as someone commented on how his dick was able to insert inside of you without any problem or hesitation, the onlookers wanting nothing more than to stick their girths deep inside your ass. Your hips worked like magic against his. His just about average-sized hands spread your cheeks to let people view without any obstruction to the view the passengers in the cart watching as they watched this generations of future heroes get dicked-down in a train cart. You had no qualms about letting out the sounds you wanted, your hands gripping onto his jacket as he bounced you against his hard cock. Dabi wrapped his arms around your waist to keep you in place and fuck you.

Your ass jiggled with each thrust against hips. The sound of your cunt swallowing up his cock as his silver studs massaged at your walls and rocked the moans out from your throat. It was almost a dream come true of what everyone had to witness at that very moment. Your words babbled out like an idiot, enjoying the way your body felt being watched as he used you like a cock sleeve. His hand held your ass cheek to help use you, the obnoxious sound of his skin slapping against yours and your sopping cunt fulling the train and the disgusting faint aroma you could sniff out if you were too close.

Dabi greatly got off to using you in public. Some sick way in the back of his head he enjoyed that people could see that you were his, even with how indirect it was. He longed for having you under his thumb, the thought and idea that one of the loser bystanders could do just that sent jolts of pleasure through him and motivated him to fuck you like this. Your mouth hung open as you could feel his tip press against your g-spot, your eyes rolling back and tongue hanging out of your mouth as trembled to keep yourself sane and grounded as he pounded into you like a hungry animal.

Still, those attempts were futile as he didn’t spare you a chance to even make you presentable, a small amount of drool that left the corner of your mouth signified just how gone you were, fully succumbing to the taboo of train groping and public fucking. Your body felt hot, the possibility of having your future ruined because of this was somehow exhilarating, the shallow comments of how much you were a ‘whore’ or a ‘slut’ made you tingle, loving every moment of being degraded and railed in public. You squeezed your walls around his thick and unrelenting cock, your skirt that was tucked still managed to stay in place as you bounced against him, the grip causing you to tense up.

He didn’t care to stop, ready to see you cum on his length and fill his seed deep inside you. It was almost as if he didn’t notice that you had, the only thing is when someone commented that white substance that came from you, the way your holes clenched and ground against his to finish. Your body was a toy for him as he used you, chasing his climax to meet yours. Thankfully your orgasm before had aided in the extra lubricant. He gave your skin a final pop before pressing his hips fully into your cunt, grunting as his cock twitched as he finished his load inside your walls. Your insides happily took in his length in cum, the excess amount making some spurt out as if a scene directly from hentai. I mean, technically this whole experience was a scene straight out of hentai.

“Look at the pretty little slut, full with my cum~” Dabi’s hands groped around your body before lifting you off his cock and spreading your cheeks to watch as the fluids dripped from your gaping cunt. He thought over his options, staring up at your dazed look, and brought you to hips down to rub his cock between your ass cheeks.

“What are you-” Your complaint trailed off once you could feel his tip slowly slip in, the rest of his length following in as well. Dabi gave you a playful kiss, having you take him fully until he bottomed out deep inside you.

“We’re going to give them part two~” He answers you curtly. His jaw clenched as he was able to keep down a groan of pleasure at how tight you wrapped around him. He barely gave you enough to get comfortable, the subtle feeling of his long and thicc cock thrusting into your ass was something you had only done a few times too little. Tears pricked at your eyes as you tried to adjust to his obnoxious length, closing your eyes as you were forced to have other people watch you get used to his cock.

As much as you tried to find it in yourself to be upset… you loved it. You like that you had an audience to watch Dabi stretch your ass out, not sparing you a moment to catch up or feel good. The feeling of him showing everyone on that train your practically virgin hole was being used for the third time in your life. This time, it wasn’t with the help of lube either. You clung onto him like an injured kitten, trying to relax yourself to allow him to use your backhole as much as he wanted.

“That’s it…” He encourages once you loosened up making it easier to slap his hips into yours better. Everyone got an eye full of your submission, wanting to touch and prod at you as well. You weren’t even sure you were deriving pleasure from this, the foreign feeling of his cock in your ass was such a feeling you couldn’t shake off but one that did urge sounds from you. You tried not to grow embarrassed when he pulled out to show off your gaping hole, the necessitous feeling of needing him to fill you up again crawling across your body. Your silent prayers were answered when he maneuvered you back onto his cock.

“I’ll have to use this one till it's just like your cunt~” He teases in your ear, rutting into you as he gets closer. His fingers dug painfully into your body, the hold on your side nearly knocking the wind out of you. He tilted his head to the side as his hips stuttered up into you and emptied into your second hole. You shifted uncomfortably at the feeling of his thick spurting into you was not a sensation you thought you would be experiencing for the day or truly ever. You grunted softly when you felt him pull out, his dick finally limp from the hormones that have been pumped out.

Dabi eyed your disheveled state before fixing what was left of your school uniform, keeping your pair of underwear with him as he shoves it in his pocket. He pushes you out of his lap making you stumble. Your hands come up to gather your stuff quickly as you realized your stop was approaching, have no liberty to be dazed. Your cheeks were hot as you tried to ignore the stares that both accompanied gazing under your shirt and skirt, gathering yourself to hold your shirt together and pull down your skirt. Your eyes followed the material that poked out his pocket, the train doors opening.

“I’ll give these to you next time we meet~”

[jq37]

The Report Card – Fantasy High: The Seven Ep 2

The Girls Are Fighting!!!

We return to Aguefort Adventuring Academy where the man himself has just told the Seven Maidens that their party is being split up which they are NOT having even though it doesn’t seem to be a malicious plot so much as the fact that Danielle, Ostentatia, and Zelda are Juniors while the other four are graduating Seniors. Antiope casts Hunter’s Mark on Aguefort, Penny pleads, Katja threatens (well, “threatens”; she walks up menacingly and then says that he can’t do this because it’s the only group of friends she’s ever had and it’s heartbreaking like all of her non-hilarious dialogue is).

Aguefort understands that it sucks and has no respect for rules but says it’s out of his hands. Sam clocks that he’s hiding something (along with the fact that he seems to know about something going on with Antiope and Penny which we know is their respective internship/apprenticeship offers) and calls him out, hitting him with a Lightning Lure to drag his ass back when he tries to turn into a bat and escape out the window. She’s unhinged and I love it. 

So does Aguefort who decides to let them in on some school secrets, leaving a decoy while he leads them all to the super secret part of the forbidden library which is bondage themed because sure. Also, Ostentatia is topless for this also because sure. He does a lot of pomp and circumstance to summon a book which Yelle flatly says better not just be the syllabus and it isn’t but she’s close. It’s the bylaws of the school district which he has summoned for the guidelines on the special, magical thing the girls can get so they can graduate together…

Their GEDS!!!!! Trés mystical. 

Basically what they need to do is complete a level A, B, or C quest together (which Antiope knows are like the top 3 highest difficulty quests--they go from A-F) and get signoff from the superintendent. But the superintendent has been missing for 12 years and there can’t be a new one until she’s dead (which she isn’t or else they’d be able to appoint a new one). Her name is Tectonya Karkovnya (who I will be calling TK) and Aguefort calls her, “chaotic and impossible to predict,” which coming from him is como se dice, troubling. 

Sam pulls out her mirror to do a little snooping on TK’s past and sees that she’s a coppery, earth genasi woman. She also sees her talking to Aguefort and saying that the magic of consciousness is far superior to his beloved chronomancy. Then the scene shifts to show her getting more and more worried as she got deeper into her studies and then going to a dwarven holy site in the Mountains of Chaos with some kind of shadow figure following her. 

Penny gets photos of the super cursed bylaws and Arthur leaves since he very much is the principal of the school and has to do his job (ostensibly). With Aguefort gone, the girls discuss the proposition after conscripting a very reluctant Antiope to be their leader (Aabria hilariously improvises that a shaft of sunlight somehow comes down to illuminate her and she has to step out of the spotlight). 

They discuss whether they want to do this GED quest or not and Zelda says she wants to but she wants to give anyone who has other stuff going on an out so they don’t feel beholden. Ostentatia immediately shoots back that Zelda is just saying that because she has plans with Gorgug. That brings down the mood and Sam, despite being a water genasi, fans the flames by saying that Gorgug has lots going on that doesn’t involve her so she shouldn’t be running back to him all the time. 

Yelle tries to calm things down and says they should sleep on it but Sam and Ostentatia are taking this super personally and are offended that they’re even having this conversation. Penny accidentally lets slip that she has some kind of apprenticeship (she’s trying to keep it on the DL because it’s supposed to be a secret) and oh man it becomes a Whole Thing. They fight in the way that you do when everyone in the fight actually wants the same thing and cares deeply about each other but are in completely different headspaces which are making them lash out.

Penny, not wanting to be around the conflict, goes invisible. Zelda is suppressing going into a rage and says that maybe she should go be with Gorgug. At least he won’t yell at her. Yelle once again tries to cool things down and suggests they have a text thread where they can say if they’re in or out by the end of the night instead of hashing it out in the open. She’s accused of not being in and, in response, texts that she’s in. Ostentatia and Sam also immediately text that they’re in, which basically makes her “solution” entirely moot. 

Zelda is finally fully fed up and leaves (Penny following invisibly). Katja also follows. 

Antiope can tell that Sam is upset about something that’s not this but Sam brushes her off rudely and storms off (quite literally, causing storm clouds outside in her wake). Yelle goes after her. Ostentatia is left with Antiope.

Time for a string of very emotional mini scenes which I highly encourage you to watch because they are peak improv.  

Zelda, Katja, (Invisible) Penny

Katja runs to find Zelda who is under a tree crying and asks if she’s OK. Zelda says that Sam and Ostentatia are so beautiful and confident and eloquent and she gets so tongue tied and useless when they disagree with her because she’s so timid. Zelda wants this so bad but she doesn’t want to feel like she’s forcing her friends to stay with her. 

Katja, as we know, has major abandonment issues because of her constantly away dad (and prob her mom too) and she doesn’t want to be left behind again but she also doesn’t want her friends to factor her in so she tries to be stoic and says that the people you love have to want to stay. But with a 3, Zelda immediately clocks the emotion behind the words. Instead of calling her out, Zelda offers to listen to music with her. 

Penny takes this opportunity to make herself known (which has got to be terrifying--unless you’re used to it and then it’s like same shit as usual from Ms. Luckstone) and Zelda goat jumps to grab her out of the tree she was crying in above them and tells her that she doesn’t have to go invisible every time there’s conflict. They all agree that they hate confrontation and Rehka gets the funniest lowkey line of the episodes: that she wouldn’t know what to do if they didn’t agree on that. We then cut to…

Ostentatia and Antiope

Where Izzy gets the high key funniest moment of the episode by transitioning in with a big, “You know I LOVE confrontation,” which breaks everyone at the table. But she says it as a preface to admitting that she may have been a bit of a bitch to Zelda. She plays coy for like a half second before she breaks down sobbing with Antiope catching her before she sinks fully to the floor. Antiope comforts her and admits that while she wants to stay with the party, she hates having options taken away from her as they have been her whole life effectively. She was honestly kind of relieved when she was trapped in the crystal because it meant all that pressure was gone for a bit. They affirm that they love each other then Ostentatia goes to apologize to Zelda. 

Danielle and Sam

Yelle goes to talk to Sam (who she adorably calls “merbae”) and while Sam doesn’t wanna talk about it, Yelle says they don’t have to. She just wants to be there for her in whatever capacity she needs. She knows Sam loves her friends and would never hurt them on purpose so something must be wrong with her-- “History of abandonment?” Sam finishes, almost glibly. She’s tired of losing people. She doesn’t want to lose more. She doesn’t want things to change. Nature is change, Yelle says. Nature sucks, Sam says. Yelle is gonna pretend like she didn't hear that. 

Sam feels bad that she snapped at Zelda and Yelle says that they’re all a family. Things will be alright. The storm clouds that Sam reflexively summoned peter out into a cool, refreshing mist. 

Ostentatia and Zelda

Ostentatia goes to where Zelda and the girls are and full ass runs at her like they weren’t just fighting. After assuring her that she’s not there to fight she apologizes, saying she was a cow. Zelda says she honestly agrees with Ostentatia that she wants the group to stay together and wishes she could be bolder in non-rage settings. Ostentatia says that maybe if the Seniors leave they can still have a party and Penny vetos that even though, as Ostentatia says, it’s a pretty reasonable compromise. Anyway, they basically all go in a circle saying they love each other and it’s very sweet. 

I’m serious, I can’t do these heart to hearts justice in this format, just go watch them for that emotional girl group goodness.

Anyway, outside of the main group, Antiope goes to talk to her sister Corsica who is currently teaching a class. Antiope does not give AF. She orders the students out and they scatter. Wouldn’t you?

Antiope wants advice. Should she stay with her party after flaming out of her last one? Should she take the internship and stay on the path her parents want her on? Corsica really feels for her. Antiope has had to struggle in a way that she and their brothers never did. She finally answers that she and her brothers are awesome and successful fighters but none of them have been able to do the scariest thing possible: disappoint their parents. They’re soldiers. They like it that way. They fall in line. But maybe Antiope isn’t a soldier. Maybe she’s a leader. She ordered those kids out of the room without thinking after all and they obeyed. It’s an extremely good speech and Antiope basically has chills, as do I.  

I assume while this is happening or perhaps right before everyone goes home, Penny goes to see Jawbone (who has some spiffy new art--as did Gilear who cameoed early in the episode when Aguefort atomic wedgied him invisibly because sure) and talk about this uber difficult decision she had to make. Jawbone gets to the heart of the matter pretty quick. Penny is a high achiever who’s lived a life without choice. But now that she’s about to be off the rails for the time she’s freaking out. Penny sees the truth in the statement (after hilariously trying to solve his metaphor about an amusement park) and thanks him for the perspective. She then, in a very Fig move, tries to kiss him and Jawbone basically stiff arms her and breezes right past like it didn’t happen, showing her out. What a trooper that Jawbone.   

Moving on to Katja. When she gets home she tries to call her dad who is unreachable on his hell mission. She leaves him a message saying that he should call her back when he can and she knows what she wants for her graduation present now. She wants her party to not break up. This breaks Brennan and me. 

She then snoops arounds for info on TK. She sees letters of her dad trying to get her into Hudol. And she sees some stuff from the Ministry of Adventure, asking if he knew where TK was. But she doesn’t get anything else. At least, she doesn’t get anything else that’s helpful. She does however find a picture of her mom which makes her bolt to go talk to Cinnamon who prances for her to make her feel better. She joins in dancing, badly.

EDIT: I initially wrote that Katja’s mom was dead because that’s what I thought she said but @ennn said that in the Adventuring Party, Rekha said that her mom didn’t die, she left. Which is less dramatic in some ways but SO MUCH WORSE for abandonment issues so, yikes girl!

Yelle meanwhile goes home to talk to her unofficial third mom, Holly, who is the awakened tree under which her house is. Picture a Grandmother Willow situation from Pocahantas basically. Yelle talks about the conflict a bit and, as usual, ends up on a tangent about how the world is unfair and she has to speak for the voiceless. Holly is concerned for her (as are her other moms which I may have neglected to mention in the last recap). She asks Yelle if she can tell her something that might be painful. Yelle agrees. Holly says that Yelle is great and wonderful and kind but she spends so much time speaking for other people that she never speaks for herself. Her moms worry that there will come a day when she needs help and will have to ask for it without couching it in terms of the greater good and she won’t be able to. 

Yelle really hopes she’s high when the time comes. 

At her home, Ostentatia casts Commune With The City to see if TK has been around and she’s not there now but she can tell she has been (though there’s no indication on if that’s recently or not). On a 17 religion check she knows that there is a dwarven holy site in the mountains that matches Sam’s description from the mirror. She’s still avoiding her dad but when she prays for her spells, she asks for her dad to feel like himself again too. 

Hey, what time is it? Let me check my watch. 

Ah yes, it’s time for Sam to make some rash decisions. 

She feels like she should text Zelda but doesn’t. Instead, she goes into Penelope’s room. And she takes out her mirror. And even though she’s expended the charge for today, she tries to make it show her Penelope. 

OK, says Brennan. Sure. Hey, can you roll me a quick little Wisdom Save?

5. 

Haha, Sam’s in danger. 

The mirror heats up as it’s pushed beyond its limits and Sam sees an image of a young Penelope with braces grabbing her hands and grinning and saying that they’ll be best friends. Then, the image shifts and she sees the Penelope of the present in her tattered prom queen dress and glass shard crown. Her eyeless, haunting, demon prom queen form, teeth razor sharp as her words. 

“A call without a text,” she says. “Are you out of your mind?”

“You look better than you ever did alive,” Sam spits back. 

It is a battle of the bitches right out of the gate. The girls are fighting part two if you will. They snipe at each other for a bit and Brennan has Sam roll insight into herself. On a 19, Sephie says that’s not enough for Sam to get a read on herself (yikes girl) so she doesn’t understand that this fight can only ruin her because while Penelope enjoys causing people pain, Sam doesn’t. 

They both get in some very choice barbs but when Penelope tries to entice her into making a devilish pact and disparages her new party, Sam does the mic drop of the century by telling her that her parents are divorcing and hanging up. The entire table LOSES THEIR MIND. It is like a real life representation of one of those Draw The Squad memes. Everyone brandishes their fans in a salute to that truly epic conversation ender. 

As the night draws to a close, Brennan asks the girls who haven’t responded to the text chain yet if they respond. Katja texts that she’s in. Zelda texts Antiope and Penny that she’s not going to text whether she’s in or out until they respond because she doesn’t want it to feel like a 5 on 2 dogpile.

Antiope and Penny call then text, then call, then text, then call each other to discuss what they should do and also hype each other up because with all the drama, they didn’t really get to celebrate their opportunities. Penny tries to downplay her thing and insinuates that it wouldn’t be a big loss if she wasn’t in the group anymore and Antiope shuts that down immediately. You’re the last thing so many people see before they die Penny! That’s so cool! 

They both decide to text that they’re abstaining from voting for now and go to bed.

The next day, Antiope gets up and sees that her party’s schedule has been cleared for the next two weeks by the school for quest reasons. She tells her dad she wants to talk to Charity Blythe (the woman at the Ministry of Adventure she needs to talk do) and he sets up a no pressure (but actually tons of pressure) meeting with her before turning her 5 mile run into a 12 mile run because she is a Jones and 5 mile runs are for Amateurs. 

Ant texts the rest of the Maidens that this meeting is happening so they can maybe get some quest info from Charity and Ostentatia has in the meantime texted (after the 2 abstains) that she will be going for the GED regardless and anyone who wants to join can. Of course, there was never any reason to NOT go for it (besides the danger which they obv don’t care about) and getting it doesn’t mean any doors are closed to them. It’s just that emotions are running so high they can’t fully seem to see that (or at least some members can’t). 

Ant doesn’t have the clearance to meet at Charity’s office so they meet at the Museum of Adventuring instead. In it happens to be the skeleton of Kalvaxus who they killed (if you don’t remember, the Bad Kids killed him first and then he was resurrected so the Maidens could also kill him for catharsis reasons). Tensions are still super high as evidenced by Sam’s snide abstention comment to Penny and Ant and then by her TRYING TO LIGHTNING BOLT THE DRAGON SKELETON TO DESTROY IT.

GIRL.

That doesn't happen though because she’s Counterspelled by Charity Blythe who walks in, surprised to see that Antiope brought her whole party. Antiope says they were just leaving but Charity can sense shenanigans when she sees them and says if they’re gonna spy on the conversation they might as well stay for it which they of course do.

She gives Antiope a rundown of the internship: 1 year commitment with a possibility to expand to 2-3 years. Stipend. She’d have to live in Bastion City.

Katja remembers that her dad was talking to the Ministry of Adventure in the letters she found and asks Charity about it. Charity says they were asking him about TK’s whereabouts because he was friends with her. On that, Yelle casts Detect Thoughts with a Stealth roll of 17 (we see on a secret Box of Doom roll that Charity got a 26 to see her cast it). Anyway, she sees that TK took some object with her when she disappeared (which she later sees is a crystal screen with a map seemingly marking quest locations from A-F) and of course the fact that Charity knows this. Yelle shares this info with everyone as Antiope walks off with Charity to talk further. Katja suggests to the group that maybe Ant should take the internship to get more info for their quest. While she’s talking to Charity, Ant feels the hairs on the back of her neck stand up.

See looks up and sees a figure with blood red lips look at her and disappear.

Yikes! Combat time baybee!

Superlatives 

Danielle: Most Likely to Talk Her Way Out of a Hostage Situation 

While, like her mothers, I am slightly concerned that Danielle is the type to set fire to herself to make sure others are warm, I also very much love her chill, warm, encouraging vibes. For those of you coming off of MisMag, she is like vibing at the same wavelength as Whitney Jammer but with the intensity turned all the way down. Danielle encouraging Sam honestly gave me like second hand calm. Excellent vibes. 

Random Thoughts

If you’re wondering how long it took for it to come up that Aguefort banged a phoenix, the answer is 12 minutes.

The concept of phoenix chlamydia is the definition of thanks, I hate it. 

Aguefort saying that TK is a crazy person could literally mean anything tbh. It could mean she is the most batshit person on the planet or it could mean she’s totally normal and just kinda bugs him. Literally no way to tell. 

Someone (I think Rekha?) mentioned that the cursed bylaws book is copper and so is TK. Idk if that’s relevant but thought I’d flag it anyway. 

We learn in this episode that the friendship bracelets Penny made them last week let them track each other and see each other even if one of the in knocked out (which is what gives it utility outside of what their crystals can already do).

We learn in this episode that Skullcleaver Elementary School is actually named after Katja’s family. 

Nothing like the fear you feel when a DM gives you what you wanted even on a failure. And on that note...

Sam, I wish you a very happy Please Go To Therapy. Please girl. 

This episode was such an emotional roller coaster. I deeply empathize with the horrible feeling that your friends have stuff going on and you don’t and you’re going to be left behind. It’s so rough to see everyone hurting and lashing out (or in the case of Yelle for instance, trying and failing to diffuse the situation). But it’s so nice to see everyone trying to be there for each other and apologizing and affirming that they love each other (from Antiope saying that she would kill and die for any of them to Danielle defusing the ticking timebomb that is Sam). The players really get the cadence of how teenage girl friendship works and it’s such a treat to watch. 

“Did we ruin your life?”

Do you think ep 7 of The Seven is gonna be when everything pops off? As a DM I wouldn’t be able to resist that.

Penny’s response to being told that she can’t take every path is, “You can with chronomancy” which isn’t a bad point. 

Rekha is the Zac of The Seven which is to say low key the funniest person on the planet. Her saying she was so scared that she wasn’t gonna be told “I love you” during that scene was so funny. Her comic timing is impeccable. 

Katja fainting at the end of the “I love you” session after Penny says she loves her and Cinnamon. 

I love the table ambient whisper of, “LCAB” under Antiope’s scene with Corsica. 

I really felt for Zelda in this episode. Like, I felt for everyone but especially her, being the quiet one with all this yelling happening. When she was talking about how much she hates to have to fight with Sam/O my heart really broke for her. I’m so glad she got all her hugs in after that. 

In this episode Katja, Ostentatia, and Sam roll nat 1s. No nat 20s.

[nightingaelic]

Curious but, perhaps new Vegas Companions reacting to The courier and their “attempts for the blue star treasure” as the courier call it but no it’s obviously an addition to the sodas in the wasteland.

The courier popped the cap off the bottle, flicked it aside with their finger and drank deeply, finishing the swallow off with a theatrical sigh. "So there I am in Primm, and I've just finished breaking Deputy Beagle out of his bind with the convicts in the Bison Steve Hotel, and he insists on throwing a party at the Vikki & Vance to celebrate. Ruby, gem that she is, hands me a bottle of this stuff and plays it coy about the taste, so I crack it open and there's a blue star underneath the cap. Never seen that before, or at least I don't remember seeing it before, but this guy next to us at the bar gets all excited. Says his name is Malcolm, used to collect the caps with stars, something about a secret, pre-war treasure... sounded like a lure for suckers, but then I come across these two dead travelers outside Nipton that look like they died in a scuffle over the damn things."

They gestured at the full crate of Sunset Sarsaparilla on the counter of the 188 Slop & Shop, which they had just shelled out 100 caps for. "Anyways, now I pick it up whenever I run into it. The Sierra Madre might be a myth, but with stuff like this, you never know. Right?"

Arcade Gannon: Arcade rolled his eyes. "Just what we need. Another reason for someone to track us down and try to kill us."

"Would I ever put you in danger?" the courier asked, rather facetiously.

Arcade pinched the bridge of his nose. "Just promise me we aren't going to get shot over collectibles, and I won't say another word."

"I... cannot promise that."

"Okay." Arcade plucked a bottle of sarsaparilla from the crate and scanned its label. "Carbonated water... well, not anymore... pure cane sugar, of course... yadda yadda yadda... oh, and criminal amounts of safrole. You should not be drinking this."

The courier shrugged. "I've had worse."

Arcade shook the bottle at them. "This will give you cancer."

"Arcade, I've been shot in the head."

"Which explains why you're still drinking it." Arcade tried to grab the open sarsaparilla away from the courier, but they pulled back out of his reach and playfully squared up. "Fine!" he said, throwing his hands up and walking away from the bar.

Craig Boone: Boone watched the courier for a minute, observing the way they were drinking the soda with excessive relish. Finally, he eased a bottle out of the crate and held it up to the sunlight. The courier eyed him suspiciously as he examined it, and they made a small noise of reproach when he twisted its top off.

"No star," he said, holding the cap up so they could see.

As he had expected, the courier barely glanced at the bottlecap and instead focused on the soda itself, which was fizzing slightly. Boone tilted the bottle to and fro, watching with amusement as their eyes followed its path.

When he finally took a sip, the courier groaned and went back to their own bottle.

Lily Bowen: "But dearie, that much soda will rot your teeth!" Lily protested. "Grandma hasn't been able to find you a new toothbrush yet. Why not take the soda home and save it for a special occasion?"

The courier held their bottle of sarsaparilla up in a toast. "Lily, with you, every occasion is special."

"Aww, pumpkin." Lily blushed and squeezed herself onto a stool. "That's very sweet of you. But only two bottles before we move on, okay? We take the rest home."

In response, the courier pulled another bottle out of the crate and slid it over to the super mutant. "Make it three, and you can have this one."

"Dearie, you know I'm watching my figure!"

The courier laughed. "I know, I know. We'll work it off. Go on, all yours."

"Hmmph." Lily picked up the bottle and turned it around, examining the label. "Like nightkin and Stealth Boys, you are."

She twisted the top off, and the two made noises of pleasant surprise at the discovery of a blue star on the bottom of the cap.

Raul Alfonso Tejada: "You've got to be careful with that stuff, boss," Raul opined, sliding onto an empty stool and eyeing the crate suspiciously.

"What, because of the treasure hunters?"

"Ay, no." The ghoul shook his head. "El refresco. Don't know what they put in it, but half the continent used to drink it. That stuff spread faster than Nuka-Cola, and Nuka-Cola knew it. Tried to buy Sunset, then when that didn't work, they tried to make their own version."

The courier perked up at that. "Nuka-Cola made sarsaparilla? I've never seen it."

"Me neither, but I've heard tell it's out there." Raul sighed and leaned over the counter, arms crossed. "Nuka-Buzz, or something? No, no, it'll come to me... Wild. Nuka-Cola Wild."

"Huh." The courier took another swig of the soda, clearly trying to cover up their sudden interest. "Know where I might get some?"

"Nah." Raul looked at them sideways. "But you're not gonna find any star caps on them anyway, right?"

"Oh yeah. Right."

"Híjole, Six. You've got a problem."

Rose of Sharon Cassidy: "Uh, no? No, I know exactly what's up with stuff like this." Cass put her hands on her hips and glared at the courier. "Sam and Michelle just took you for a ride on those things, that's what's up. How many're in there, 24 bottles? Fewer at the rate you're suckin' 'em down, but 100 caps for 24 bottles is downright criminal. Over four caps per head, and you're not even getting a decent return of 24 caps if you're saving the ones with little blue stars on them! But let's be honest here, Six."

The courier threw a hand out in defensive exasperation. "I am being honest, Cass! It's for a-"

"Mmm, uh-uh." Cass shook her head violently and crossed her arms. "You're not that stupid, you have decent enough business sense from what I've seen. What you've got going is the same song and dance I do when the bartender's pouring generous rounds. Just own it, Six."

"Oh come on, that's not the same-"

"I don't wanna hear it." Cass hopped onto a stool and shoved the crate of soda as far away from her as she could get it. "Sam, get back here and bring me a glass of something that'll put me in a more forgiving mood. On their tab."

Veronica Santangelo: "Wrong." Veronica sighed and sat down next to the courier. "You know how far we are from the Strip?"

"Not really?"

"Give or take a few, 26 miles." The Scribe frowned. "Meaning, if you want to drag that crate home with you, we have to carry it 26 miles through the desert, protecting it from cazadores, coyotes, Fiends, and if your story's at all true, rabid treasure hunters. I don't know about you, but I'm not about to risk my life for a box of flat sarsaparilla."

"But it's not flat." The courier handed her their drink to inspect. "Not completely. I don't know where Michelle dug it up, but she found a good batch."

"I don't know," Veronica replied, peering down the bottle's neck. "Can't really tell without getting a better look. What if I..."

She made as if to pour the soda out onto the ground, and the courier squeaked and tried to grab it back. Veronica held it out of their reach and smirked. "So it's not really about the caps, is it? Because if it was, we could just empty these all and save ourselves the trouble of hauling it."

"Veronica, please."

"Fine." Veronica handed the drink back. "But I want three bottles for myself. You can keep the caps."

ED-E: ED-E beeped in general agreement with the courier's story and accepted the new load, lowering itself slightly so they could pack up the bottles. By the time the courier was done, the bottle they had been drinking was empty. With a shrug, the courier pocketed the cap- starless, ED-E noted- and plucked another from the crate, causing the eyebot to bob and adjust.

Rex: The cyberdog sniffed the bottle the courier offered them and sneezed, narrowly missing the contents. They snatched it back with a chuckle and went on drinking. Rex curled up at the base of their stool, yawned, and went to sleep. By the time he woke up again, the crate was down to 20 full bottles, and the courier was giggly from the pre-war sugar.

[thran-duils]

Total Eclipse (P.2)

Title: Total Eclipse (Part Two) Summary: Fem!Reader x Sherlock Holmes (RDJ). Sherlock had an impression on the reader from a formative age but he was always so busy running with cases. Their moments of passions were coveted between the two but they were few and far between. He left with Watson on a case and in that time, her parents found her a suitable man to give her to. Wealthy and accomplished. Sherlock and her have not been able to let go of each other though. Words: 3,792 Warnings (for the whole fic): Angst, infidelity, smut, swearing, substance abuse, non liner storyline, character death, 18+ as always Author’s Note: There is heavy backstory here in italics! I was reading up on Victorian customs and tbh, I’m not privy to it at all, so I apologize if things are not historically accurate!

Part One || Part Three || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

You walked away from where your ladies tea was going on, brushing your skirts out. You had begun to become uncomfortable sitting on the blanket and wanted to stretch your legs.

“Do not wander too far,” your mother called out to you.

“Of course not, mother,” you called back over your shoulder.

She would not notice how far you wandered when she was this engrossed in the latest gossip from the castle.

Coming onto the cobblestone, your eyes set on the fountain. There were goldfish inside and you made a point to always come to the fountain when you visited this park. You nodded at a couple as you passed them, exchanging pleasant smiles. They did eye you somewhat curiously at the fact you were walking alone but pleasant, nonetheless. Reaching the edge of the fountain, you leaned over, peering into it.

Just as you were reaching into the fountain, a small gust of wind hit you and you felt your hat fly off the top of your head. You let out a noise of frustration, turning around, eyes searching. It was tumbling away and coming to the feet of a gentleman sitting on a bench. His eyes were on you, and you had a feeling they had been for a bit.

He dipped down, picking your hat up from the cobble stone and stood up from the bench. His hands came up to brush at it as he walked towards you. He was careful with the fabric, his own coat bristling in the small breeze at his sides.

“Your hat, miss,” he said holding it out to you, giving a small bow.

You thanked him and took it.

He was terribly handsome. Dark hair, tousled just so, not to the point that he looked unkempt. His eyes were an alluring shade of chocolate. There was a playfulness in them and they excited you.

“You must keep a good hold on that. It’s woven perfectly,” he continued.

“Perfectly?” you asked, putting the hat back on.

“Yes. It’s immaculate. The stitchwork. Whoever did it took great care. I believe it is the work of the hatter on Bishop’s Gate, east end?” Your mouth fell open in surprise as you pulled the ribbon down beneath your chin and you froze. He gave a light chuckle at your expression, “Sorry, I have a keen eye for detail and a memory to boot. May I?” He asked suddenly, his hands reaching ever so slightly towards your face, eyes on the ribbons for a moment to explain what he was asking.

You stilled, your hands falling to your sides, and he took it as invitation. You breathed easily even though your heart jumped at him being so close. You did not even know this man; he was bold. Coming forward, his hands latched to the ribbons, tying it better than you could. He had a nice smelling aftershave and you locked eyes, your breath hitching. He was suspended in your gaze for a moment before clearing his throat.

He gave a brief smile as he pulled away. “That’s better.”

Something had happened there. And you pressed it.

“Are you sure you would like to tie it that tight? I may want to lose it again if it means you’ll fetch it for me?” you asked.

He actually looked amused, and you were relieved. You were constantly scolded from a young age for being so coquettish. “Bold. Aren’t you?”

“I’ve been told so.”

“Miss….?”

“Miss Y/N L/N. And you?”

“Sherlock.”

“That’s it, then?”

Now he was coy. “For now.”

��So, there’s to be a future, then? Between us?”

He caught your wit, amused even further. Thankfully he did not think you crass and he did not chastise. He was returning your flirtations. “I think so, Miss Y/N.”

“Well, I look forward to the future then. You live in London?” you questioned.

“Yes. Do you?”

“Most of the time.”

“’Most of the time?’” Sherlock repeated and you shrugged.

“Sometimes I dream of escaping. It takes up some of my time, pulling me away from here.”

He smirked at that. “I suppose I should say most of the time too. My mind pulls me to places. As well as my job.”

“Lucky you,” you said sincerely, and his expression was warm. He was interested in you. He was older, not terribly but there was distance. Reaching out, you touched his topcoat. “You are a bit of a pyromaniac it seems. Or just terrible with the cherries of your cigars. Please tell me it’s not the latter.”

“What makes you say that?”

You cocked your head and pulled down his vest and his eyebrows rose at the movement as you exposed some of his chest hair peaking out from beneath his dress shirt. You ignored his stunned look, doing your best to not linger on his exposed chest. Your finger landed on his dress shirt, pointing out the singe. “Do you think I’m blind, Mr. Sherlock?”

He let out a small laugh.. “I thought I hid it well enough beneath the vest.”

“You must not move as quickly as you have been to keep it hidden. Now, tell me. Why would you not just get a new shirt? You surely have the money. I mean, if you know the hatters on Bishop’s. And it’s not just anyone that splurges on a silk tie.”

He cocked his head, eyes running up and down you. You smiled in response, seeing you had impressed him.

“I haven’t gotten around to it,” he shrugged.

“Busy man, then.”

“Quite.”

“Too busy to escort me through the park?” you asked.

He eyed you and asked, “Would that be entirely inappropriate? We did not set this up beforehand.”

You shrugged now and said, “I could tell the gallant story of how you saved my hat from getting dirty in the mud. And I asked for you to walk me back. I did get quite a look for being on my own on the way over here.”

Sherlock’s lips pulled into a smile, and he gestured for you to walk. You were thankful he had initiated it; it was societally appropriate for him to initiate everything. How you wished you could loop arms but that itself would be societally inappropriate considering you had just met. Your mother would simply have a heart attack if she saw that, especially with so many possible suitors in the park.

He came to a stop, and you stopped as well, watching him curiously as he left the path. He reached for the rose bush, and you grimaced as he reached straight into it. He could cut his hands. But he yanked, his fingers moving ever so, pulling a single rose off the bush. His hand was unharmed.

He presented it to you, and you took it gently.

“A token of appreciation of your company, Miss L/N,” he said.

Examining it, you observed, “Pink. Are you of grace and sweetness? Or is that to refer to me?”

“I would have given red would it have been readily available,” he smiled, and you felt heat creep. “Also, pink can symbolize admiration. That is breaching on the red, is it not?”

You shrugged, keeping it close. “Yes, I suppose so. A fine point.”

The two of you walked on and Sherlock asked lightheartedly, “Where is your escort, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“I am here with a ladies group. They’re probably sitting at the blankets still, tittering about the gossip,” you responded. “My mother especially. She loves being in the center of all the gossip and drama.”

“My, I must watch my back returning you. Would not want to start any rumors.”

“Would rumors about us be so bad, Mr. Sherlock?”

He was tickled. “You really have no shame, do you?”

“Only in the presence of people I think I can trust. Not all women are complete straight laces. And frankly, most are only that way in public. Have you not spent a lot of time with women in private spaces?”

Sherlock chuckled, “That is a very loaded question, my dear. Where did you ever learn to banter like this?”

“I have an older brother. And your ‘dear’?”

“Have I offended you?”

“Not in the slightest.”

His eyes were alight, sharing a look with you. It was only interrupted as you passed another couple and nodded at them, Sherlock doing the same.

“Ah, like I said,” you said coming back over the bridge. You spotted them still eating their small cakes and sipping on their tea. Sherlock followed your gaze and you leaned in, “Thank you for providing me a walk. My legs had become quite numb sitting on the ground for so long.”

“My pleasure,” Sherlock responded.

You saw that one of the women had noticed you and Sherlock approaching over the bridge and you needed to hurry up the conversation. Pressing your luck, you asked, “Do you happen to have an invite to the Mayberry Ball?”

“Unfortunately,” Sherlock sniffed.

“Would it still be unfortunate if I was there?” you inquired.

Sherlock’s eyes were locked with yours and you came to a stop in the path. You stared at him with sincerity, waiting for his answer.

He cleared his throat, looking away. “It would liven up the event, that is for sure. I am terribly bored at those events, but I am dragged along by my… partner.”

“‘Partner?’” you asked, your fiery hope getting water doused on it.

“Confidant. Flatmate,” Sherlock explained quickly sensing your discomfort, meeting your gaze once more. You visibly relaxed, and he no doubt noticed. He resumed walking with you down the path. “He encourages me to get out. It is why I am at the park today. I had only been out for about a quarter of an hour before you showed up and I had already been considering heading back inside.”

“What a shame, sir. To hide yourself away. Who knows who you’ll meet if you only ventured out?” you stated, shrugging in a lighthearted manner.

“Too true,” Sherlock returned, eyes bright. He shot a look towards where the tea was being held and then cleared his throat, straightening up. “Well, it looks like we have been found out, Miss L/N. I suppose I should let you get back to your lunch. I have taken up too much of your time.”

“The pleasure was mine, Mr. Sherlock,” you assured him as you reached the edge of the grass.

Sherlock gave you a curt bow and turned towards the ladies and gave them a smile and a bow as well in acknowledgment. The ladies bowed their head in return, and you kept yourself from smirking at the fact they all looked like chickens bobbing their heads in unison, eyes fixated on him.

“Enjoy the rest of your afternoon. Make sure to keep that hat tied tightly, Miss L/N,” he told you before turning on his heel and walking off.

You watched him walk off for a few moments before turning back to the tea.

Your mother was on you the second you sat down.

“Who was that man? And where did you get that rose?”

“My hat flew off and he fetched it for me before it went into the mud. I was foolish, I should have tied it before walking off. A gust of wind caught it,” you told her calmly, fixing your skirts around your legs as you relaxed in your sitting position. “And I made a comment about the roses, so he picked one for me. I was afraid the poor man was going to hurt his fingers, but he was careful. Very kind of him to do so, it does smell lovely.”

“And his name?”

“Mr. Sherlock.”

Your mother eyed where he had walked off and she said, “Why does that name not sound familiar?”

The other ladies looked at a loss as well and you merely shrugged in response. “Maybe he is new to the city. I am grateful he walked me back. Are there any cucumber sandwiches left? I am famished.” You acted as if you had little interest in him to get your mother off your back, but you were already thinking of what gown to wear to the Mayberry Ball.

<><><>

You looked down at your gown for the umpteenth time, making sure nothing had spilled on it. You had chosen a deep purple, silk brocade with silver detail. It was one of your finest and your mother encouraged it, considering it was the courting season and especially since it was your fourth season. Your father listened to you when you told him you were uninterested in the men who had tried to court you thus far, but you knew even his patience would wear thin with your pickiness and your hand would be forced.

Eyes wandering, you stood by where your brother was recounting a story to your father and mother. People spun to the dance, others off to the side, exchanging flirtations. You suddenly locked eyes with Sherlock across the room.

He grinned briefly before raising his eyebrows. He turned, disappearing back into the hallway behind him.

Your family was distracted with your older brother, and you easily slipped away through the crowd, following where he had gone. The hallway was empty and there were doors at the end of it. You pushed them open and were expecting him. But you were met with empty air and your brow furrowed.

“Sneaking away, Miss L/N?”

You startled hearing him from behind you. He was sitting on a bench against the wall, nestled between two tall plants.

Stomping over you glowered down at him.

“Did I offend somehow?” he asked as he stood up from the bench.

You scoffed, “You told me to sneak away! And then you startle me!”

“I did nothing of the sort! I merely made a face. And you assumed from there. I don’t argue your detection skills though.”

“Why do I feel as if you are jesting?”

“Never.”

You sighed before saying, “Well, I would accept a dance. But I am sure my mother would be on you in a second. She was already curious about the walk.”

“As you suspected. And she should be. A strange gentleman walking her daughter through the park. Especially during the season. And who said I danced?”

“Is that why you were standing on the outskirts?”

“I could ask you the same thing.”

You cocked an eyebrow and said, “If you haven’t noticed, I am single. I am to be escorted at these types of events. My father and brother were keeping me close until someone approached me to ask for a dance.”

“You’d already danced with three by my count.”

“You were watching me. For how long?”

“The detail on your gown is exquisite.”

“Will you always compliment my clothing? Is there nothing else about me to compliment?”

There was a pause, the two of you staring at the other. Sherlock’s lips twitched and he hid a smile. “It would be inappropriate of a me to engage in other compliments, no matter how much they are warranted.” Well, that answered your question in a sly manner, much to your pleasure. “But, being found outside with a man alone would tarnish your reputation. And yet you followed. Speaking of inappropriate.”

“And you encouraged it. Plus, it is not like I am a lady. I’m simply middle class. It would not affect me as greatly.”

“I would not say ‘simply’ in that regard. It is very respectable to be middle class. Especially since I can deduce your family is further into the elite side of it. And on the contrary, not being upper class, the situation which we are describing would certainly affect you greater considering you are closer to having less equity if a suitable match was not made within your own social class. Middle-middle class is less than lower upper class.”

He noticed your eyes were narrowed and he cleared his throat, stopping in his speech.

“Do you always speak so much?” you asked him.

“Yes.”

You spotted your brother going through the crowd inside in earnest, certainly searching for you.

“Well, do not change, Mr. Sherlock,” you told him, giving him a quick smile. His interest was piqued by the comment, and you added, “I’m quite serious. It amuses me so. You have intellect. But I must take my leave. I spot my brother who is certainly going to talk my ear off in an unpleasant way about wandering off alone. Even if I say I was using the lavatory and did not want to interrupt their conversation.”

“If you find yourself on New Bond Street…” you said in invitation. Sherlock looked taken aback and you quickly said, “I am sorry. I did not mean to be too forward.”

“No,” he recovered quickly. He chuckled, shaking his head. “No, that’s not it. You are just… very close to me. A few blocks actually… fascinating.”

You saw your brother cross again and you hurried, “Oh, well, yes, that is. What a coincidence. Well, good night. I hope to see you again.” You gave him a half curtsy before you turned.

He grabbed your hand and you stopped, facing him again. He brought your gloved hand up to his lips and gave it a kiss, keeping his eyes on you. “And I as well.”

A smile was on your lips as he let your hand go and you hurried back through the doors back to the ballroom.

<><><>

The day after your tryst with Sherlock, you were not surprised you were called on at home. Thankfully, Arthur was not home.

“A gentlemen is here to see you, ma’am. A Mr. John Watson.”

You greeted him in the parlor, the door cracked. You did not want to arouse suspicion about this gentleman visiting you while Arthur was out, no matter if he was known as an acquaintance. Although, he was far closer to you than anyone in the household would ever know. If the maids wanted to eavesdrop, they could do so gladly.

“John,” you greeted him and he took his hat off to greet you in turn.

“Y/N, you look lovely as always,” he complimented as one of your maids brought in a tray of tea.

John waited for you to seat yourself before he sat down as well. You reached forward, preparing two cups of tea for the pair of you.

“Thank you. You look well. Mrs. Hudson must be feeding the two of you well.”

“Quite,” he answered.

“Sugar?”

“Please.”

You handed him his tea and he placed it in front of him.

John asked point blank, “How was he?”

Of course John knew you had seen him. If Sherlock left 221B Baker, you were one of, if not the first, stops he would take on most of the time if John was not with him.

“He was Sherlock.”

John took a drink and you watched him closely. He met your eyes again and sighed, “He’s been manic.”

“Then it’s a good thing he’s coming back out to see us then, correct? He confirmed he would be at the masquerade.”

“It’s gotten worse since—”

“I don’t need to be reminded again,” you told John.

“I think you do. Are you happy here?”

You bristled at the comment. Why did men think they had such a liberty to comment on your choices? Maybe you should have closed the door, but you did not expect something like this from John of all people. Sherlock, certainly. But not him.

John noticed your expression and he opened his mouth, but you cut in testily in quiet tones.

“I wish you wouldn’t speak so loudly about such matters right under my husband’s roof.”

You did get up now and go to the door, closing it. This was turning into something else entirely than what you had expected. John was watching and you hoped he realized he needed to be quick about this to not give too much time for them to speculate what was happening in here. You sat back down.

He matched your quiet tones, thankfully, even with the door closed. “It’s the most sure-fire way to get your attention on the matter.”

Taking a drink of your own tea, you kept your eyes pinned on him. Swallowing, you placed your cup back down delicately. “I cannot leave my husband.”

“I wasn’t asking you to do that.”

Cocking your head, you asked, “Then what are you asking, John?” His lips were pursed and you knew you had caught him. You shrugged, “You’re asking me to leave my husband. Divorce is illegal for me to initiate if you have forgotten.”

“I know that. He’s always better after he sees you.”

“But?” you asked, knowing there was more.

“But he always reverts.”

“Because he’s not with me?”

John gave you a look now and he said, “You know it is true.”

“John, is this for you or for him?”

“Can it not be both?” he asked honestly. “I am concerned for my friend, and I can simultaneously be concerned for my own mental health and anxiety.”

You sighed heavily, looking out the window.

“I know it is near impossible for you to obtain divorce – or even a separation – but… if you simply saw him more.”

“How?”

“Bring him into your circle. Then it would not be suspicious if the two of you were speaking with each other. On the street, in a restaurant, at the park.”

“You know it not just speaking that Sherlock and I engage in,” you whispered.

John rose his brows, looking embarrassed, but said, “I know. But just seeing more often may encourage him to imbibe less and relax.”

“Do you understand how much I wish I could be with him?” you asked seriously. John was quiet and you shrugged. “There will always be a hole, John, for me.”

John leaned forward and said, “Then try what I am suggesting. Please.”

Studying his face, you exhaled, running the risk of the idea through your mind. Sherlock was unorthodox, but perhaps he could put up a front to be around the gentlemen your husband surrounded himself with. It was farfetched but… possibly.

“I’ll consider it. I am going to see him tomorrow night at the ball. I trust you are attending?”

John nodded, “Yes. I am.”

“Good,” you told him, getting up again and going back to open the door a crack. You did not see anyone in the hall but you doubted they had not been there and had only run away when they heard your footfalls coming towards the door. Facing him again, you said in your normal voice, “I am looking forward to the gooseberry pie myself.”

~~~

Fic tags: @undecidedsworld @mcnegan