#i have no idea how i was supposed to match another gif to this i just simply can't. like. ARE WE SEEING HER?

[lunarteory]

KiLLKiSS ✩ Ave Mujica 4th LIVE 「Adventus」

[seresinhangmanjake]

A Trade

Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x reader

Summary: When Feyd asked for your hand, your father refused and took you away from him. Now he’ll do anything to get you back, and he’s not above kidnapping your sister to offer a trade.

Notes/Warnings: kidnapping and threats of death. I think that’s it. Feyd’s soft for reader.

Words: 4000

Feyd-Rautha Masterlist / Main Masterlist / Tag list

He sits quietly, his chair facing another of its matching set, and leans forward with his elbows braced on his knees. His hands clasp, fingers squeezing and releasing and squeezing and releasing in an effort to suppress the rage he hasn’t been able to let go of for weeks.

With eyes scanning over the figure sitting his opposite, Feyd’s teeth grind, wearing down the grit of his molars. It’s hard not to scrutinize. As he takes in every feature of her face, his lips and eyebrows involuntarily quirk in distaste. It’s not that her features aren’t nicely proportionate or well-placed on the structure of her face; they’re just…wrong. Familiar, but incorrect. 

“You don’t look like her,” he says. 

Her stare is just as intense as the one he knows so well. And though she may not look quite right, the aura she exudes does not stray from what he expects of someone with her blood. 

She jerks on the binds that are keeping her wrists locked behind her back and huffs when they don’t give way to her strength. “Well, we aren’t twins,” she states. 

There’s a bite there, but no soft edge to cushion the blow. She doesn’t know the proper way to deal with him. She doesn’t know how to ease the tension in his bones with her words. He supposes that is one of many things that makes the difference. It’s why he loves you and would not love a woman like her. 

Again she tugs on the ropes confining her. 

“Don’t bother,” he says.

She lets out a groan before finally surrendering. “You know, she told me all about you. About what became of the two of you. How it happened,” she says. “And I understand. I do. But do you honestly believe having your men abduct me was the best idea?” 

Feyd leans back in his chair. His arms cross over his chest. You are the only one who questions him, the only one allowed to question him, and his jaw ticks as he pulls back on the desire to slide a blade across your sister’s cheek.

“I do,” he says. 

Your sister shakes her head. “You know they’re giving her to Kenric. Father is with her on their planet in the process of signing a formal agreement.”

Feyd shoots up, hungry acid eating his insides. He’d heard news of the pending engagement, but he does not care to listen to those words strung together for a second time, especially not in a voice that so closely resembles yours. It makes him want to hurt something, damage something, but when the nearest target flinches at the sharpness of his movement, he pauses. You would want him to pause. He takes a breath and runs his hand down his face before circling to the back of the chair and gripping the edge of the seat. His knuckles whiten. 

“She is not marrying Kenric,” Feyd says. “Your House will give her back to me if I offer them you in return.”

She hums, unconvinced, and a crease forms at the center of his brow. He’s far from appreciative of how unsure she seems, considering this plan was the only one well-formed enough for execution. As the second born, she may not be as important as you are, but she’s a daughter of a Great House nonetheless, and no elite would allow the death of one of their own, certainly not their child, without some attempt at preservation first. They'll have to agree to his terms.

But if they don’t…

Feyd stares into the blank space by your sister’s head, his vision hazy, shapes blurring with each image of you that travels around his mind. Things had been so well. Content, yet passionate. Fulfilling. They’d been as close to perfect as Feyd could recognize from others’ descriptions of the feeling. 

You were a gift unto him without anyone realizing it. Your parents sent you for education, for experimentation, for practice in learning how to infiltrate other Houses so when the day comes for you to lead beside another, you would have the knowledge and skillset to manipulate any Great line from the inside out.

It wasn’t presented that way to his uncle, of course. You were introduced with the suggestion that the Baron see a curious girl, an innocent flower wanting to expose herself to foreign practices. But the act did not fool Feyd. He instantly saw the spots where the rose’s thorns had been clipped. What stood before him was a weapon briefly tamed for the sake of disguise who would grow back her barbs once planted within his walls. And he found much amusement in your deception.

It took mere weeks for you to fall with Feyd into deep affection. You were always around, always peering where you should not have been peering, listening to what did not belong to your ears, and when he got fed up with your lack of covertness, he confronted you. Confrontation which led to lessons in stealth that tucked the both of you into dark corners hidden from prying eyes. Dark corners that only shadowed your bodies if you were pressed against one another. Bodies that were so close breaths couldn’t help but intertwine. Breaths that brushed heat over faces and ceased only when lips met.

And then with one mistake, one request, you were gone. Kidnapped by your family’s guards. Taken from behind his turned back. Sand through his fingers.

“I believed her when she told me you loved her,” your sister says, snapping Feyd back to attention. Her mouth is parted, and as her eyes scan his face, they’re alight with something akin to wonder but with a few tainting specks of disgust. A reasonable reaction; one he anticipated. Her sister in bed with a Harkonnen—how horrible. “Nevertheless, it's fascinating to witness for myself.”

Feyd’s eyes narrow. His spine straightens. He squares his shoulders. “I asked for her hand first. She should be mine.”

A scoff bursts from your sister’s throat. “That is not what I have heard,” she tells him. “You did not ask; you demanded. And you were both naive,” she says. “She was not sent here to fall in love. Not to mention, your family has a reputation you should not forget.”

“She does not fear me,” he snaps. 

“She does not have to.”

“I am a Lord, an heir, as much as any other son of the Great Houses. My title makes me worthy. They had no valid reason to reject me and take her.”

“Do you think there isn’t more to it than any title put upon you?” she asks before she says, “It’s the wars your House involves yourselves in. The greed. The possessiveness. The pale hands in everyone else’s pots. The children you would produce.”

His jaw clenches. “And what would be wrong with our children?”

“What would be right with them? Everyone would fear the deplorable monsters they might grow to be with your blood coursing through their veins.”

Feyd’s heart prickles. 

He hadn’t thought much of children; he’d simply thought of you and what it would take to keep you by his side. Anything else he’d deemed the concerns of a much later time, but now, with it forced into his mind, he finds himself unexpectedly devastated. Normally he wouldn’t care about opinions, but to understand what ideas others might conjure up at the possibility of your union sickens him. The children you would create would be nothing less than flawless. Warriors. Survivors. Leaders. A pristine blending of you both. He knows it. 

Your sister’s chest caves with a heavy sigh. “Look, I do not say these things to hurt you in retaliation for dragging me here against my will. They are fact.”

In his silence, Feyd can feel her studying him from the inside out, not wasting a single passing second. Her position—the ties around her wrists that keep her bound to the chair—which would cause great concern to others, seems to fade in importance against her consistent, concentrated observing. It does not last long before he grows tired of it. 

“What?” he spits.

Pity bleeds into her irises. “She did try to convince them,” she says. “She claimed you’re different than you appear. Not as harsh. Not as impulsive as everyone believes.”

His gaze falls to his feet. “She was lying.”

“Clearly,” your sister agrees. Then her voice tips; softens. “But she was desperate. She would’ve said anything, though it wouldn’t have mattered. They refused to listen.”

Feyd’s eyelids pinch. He can picture you as desperate as he is. Begging. Begging as a Lady such as yourself would beg: with wit and strategy, utilizing every trick in the book short of falling on your knees. You’re like him. He begs as you do, but in his own way, with his own tricks.

“What do you believe will come of this? Really.”

Feyd looks up at her. “I told you, she will be mine again,” he doesn’t hesitate to say. “That is what will come of this.” 

“And if it doesn’t?” she asks. “Will you stop?”

“What do you think?”

As if he had cracked open her skull to reveal her brain, Feyd has an unobstructed view of each one of her thoughts nestling deeply into her mind. She said so herself what she and her House—what all Houses—think of him. War, greed, possessiveness. And he is but a fraction of the Harkonnen’s totality of power. What he’s done by taking her brushes the cusp of his capabilities, and his uncle would not restrain him from conquering another planet and snuffing out an elite lineage to obtain what he desires.

As your sister runs through the many repercussions of his plan’s potential failure, he decides he has wasted enough of his time on her. He can no longer stand to look at the face that lacks the features he prefers.

“Where are you going?” she says when he turns on his heel. 

“We’re done for now. You’ll be escorted to the guest quarters.”

“Not a cell?”

Feyd halts. 

“You’re her sister,” he says over his shoulder. And then he leaves her behind. 

—

“They’ll come today.”

Your sister looks up from the plate of food in front of her, her eyes landing on Feyd as he stops just in front of the dining table where she sits.

He’s reminded again how different she is from you. How when you sat in that same seat—a seat he is struggling not to scold your sister for occupying—you were the lone bright object in the room. Nothing about this soul-sucking black hole was capable of dimming you, and yet your contrast fit perfectly. You slotted into his fortress as if you were meant to one day rule over its every occupant, himself included. But Giedi Prime’s design does not blend well with your sister. She’s a royal-purple-velvet, gold-embroidered splotch in a sea of onyx black, and he wants nothing more than to remove her.

Soon. You will be back with him soon. Soon, you will be eating in that seat. You will be wearing his clothes. You will be existing in this space as you should be.

“How do you know?” your sister asks. 

Feyd blinks. “It’s been three days. Enough time to have been informed of your absence and return home to confirm it,” he says. “And she’ll know where you are.”

“You’re so sure?”

He gives a single nod. “She knows me,” he replies. “She knows taking you is not out of the realm of what I would do for her.”

---

Reader POV

You know where she is. From the moment your parents were informed of her disappearance and the three of you rushed to your home planet, not a single of your seconds was wasted on juggling alternative possibilities. How it is not blatantly obvious to everyone else is a shock, but perhaps your sister’s missing presence from the palace has turned frantic minds to mush. You’re the only one who isn’t running about, searching through closets and under beds as if a grown woman is playing a child’s game. 

You have to tell them. Recovering your sister cannot be a solo mission, despite how much easier that would be. Not to mention, to leave for Giedi Prime without notifying your parents would rightfully increase their panic, and no good would come of that.

So you speak his name.

They call him a demon. A monster. They curse and condemn him. How dare he demand one daughter and, after being denied, so quickly move on to stealing another. The implication that he’s taken your sister to replace you makes you ill, but to defend the love you share with him would further stir their tempers. 

“You’re certain?” Your mother asks through the trembling hand covering her horrified mouth. 

You meet your father’s blazing stare and try to ignore the hateful bile gathering at the corners of his lips. You nod. “I should go alone,” you tell them. 

“Absolutely not.”

“He’ll listen to me. He will not be cooperative with you.”

“That creature will listen to no one!”

“I know him. His thoughts, his tactics,” you argue. “I��m the one person who can get through to him.”

To his credit, your father takes a calming breath. It can not be denied that his emotions often guide him over logic, but he’s not a man known for idiocy. He sent you to the Harkonnens, and he’s not forgotten how well you’ve been trained to learn from your environment.

“Fine,” he eventually agrees. But he does not accommodate you beyond that. 

All efforts to ease his disgust for your lover fall on deaf ears. He won’t hear that Feyd hasn’t hurt your sister. He won’t believe that he hasn’t peeled her skin from her bones or starved her out of her perfectly tailored dresses. And though his eyes threaten you to surrender your conviction, to confirm his ideas and stoke the flame of his fury, you don’t give in.

Arriving at the doors of Giedi Prime’s fortress is done without guards flanking your sides. They stay on the ship. “He doesn't respond to intimidation strategies,” you tell your father. “It’s best not to storm his home with forces in tow and demand things of him.” Not lies, but you can’t say you’re honest for the sake of striking a deal without inflicting wounds on each other’s guards. True that it’s best to avoid an all-out battle, but it’s more true that your motivations are guided by seeing him again. 

When you do finally see him, you see no one else. The world falls apart and you cannot tear your eyes from his face. Neither can he keep his off of you. You’re yards apart, a rooms-span away, and yet you can already feel him from the anticipation of being in his arms. You’ve been living off of the memories of his touch, and now here he is, almost within reach.

Your father is shouting, but your heartbeat thumping in your ears shields you from the full power of his voice. “You dare steal my daughter!” you think he says. “Where is she!”

Feyd ignores him. He stares still. His mouth parts. And then, with determination in his steps, he walks to you. 

Before you can bask in the warmth of his looming closeness, his arm is reaching toward you, and in what seems like the blink of an eye, his palm slides across your cheek, his fingers weave with the strands of your hair, and he pulls you into a kiss.

Instantly, the long-awaited sensation threatens to kick your legs out from under you. Your bones warn of their weakening strength. Your heart briefly stops, but then beats return with a ferocity that could shame a beast in battle.

The *shing* of your father’s metal blade unsheathing is met with its sister sound from the multiple swords of Feyd’s guards. It buys you a few more seconds of holding each other, and you use those seconds to give all that you can.

Feyd knows how to kiss you. You know how to kiss each other. Though relatively tame in front of your current audience, he kisses with the promise of what his mouth would do to yours were you alone; echoes of what you shared before you were taken.

When you sense your time is about to run out, you plant your hands on Feyd’s chest, and as he cups your cheeks, you break the kiss. Your eyes find home in his. 

“I’ve missed you,” you whisper. 

He grins ever so slightly. “They can have her,” he says. His thumbs brush over your cheekbones and he rests his forehead against yours. “But I’m keeping you.”

I’m yours is on your lips, but his body is partially jerked out of your arms before you can speak. All gentleness in your lover switches off like a light. 

“Get off of my daugh–” 

Your father chokes, his nails clawing at the hand around his neck. 

“You don’t tell me not to touch her!” Feyd shouts with a squeeze, slowly pulling your father closer. Being inches shorter, your father must stand on his toes to keep Feyd’s grip as loose as possible, and as much as you find yourself enjoying the sight, you cannot allow it to continue.

“Feyd,” you start. As you caress his flexed bicep, you keep your tone velvety. “Feyd, let him go.” But he does not hear you. Or he does not listen. His fingers tighten. Your father’s face swells red. “Listen to me. I love you. No one is going to take me away from you. I won’t let that happen. You won’t let that happen. We will be married. We will be here, together, just you and me as we planned,” you tell him, “but I want you to let him go.”

A beat passes. Two beats. Three. Then Feyd expels the breath he’d been holding. His chest deflates, and one by one, his fingers unpeel from your father’s skin. 

Your father heaves. “Y-You…” he says through his attempts to recover. His hand rubs his rapidly bruising flesh. “You are promised…to Kenric. The agreement was all but–” he coughs “–but signed.”

A growl emerges, and from your left, Feyd lunges. Your father gasps. His eyes widen as he stumbles a step backward. 

“No!” You rush in front of Feyd to grab his face. Shaking your head, your thumbs stroke his cheeks. “No,” you repeat softly. 

The heat in his irises soothes as he keeps his eyes on you. His arm curls around your waist, and his gaze drops to your mouth. You want to kiss him again. You almost do, but then you remember why you’re here.

You look to the nearest Harkonnen guard, one of many you’re familiar with after your time on Giedi Prime. “Bring my sister. Please.”

He glances at his Lord, who nods in response to the silent question. Then Feyd’s attention returns to you, his eyes go to your lips, and he leans in. 

You struggle to care about anything other than his taste. After you were taken, you were lost to the devastation of believing your mouth and tongue and teeth would never have him again. And you’re lost now. Lost in the pleasure of those fears extinguishing. So lost that not even the echo of approaching footsteps is enough to cleave your bodies apart. 

“A relief to see that clothes are still on,” your sister’s voice greets. Reluctantly, you unseal your mouth from Feyd’s to look past his shoulder at your sister. There’s an unreadable expression on her face as she watches him bury his face in your neck. Acceptance, or revulsion.

Thankfully, your father seems to have missed her comment, so focused on seeing her well and unharmed. He takes an unsteady step in her direction. “Daughter–”

The Harkonnen releases your sister from his hold and she meets your father the rest of the way. “I’m fine, father.”

“That monster–”

“Didn’t do a thing.” Her eyes flick to the hand covering his throat. One brow arches as her head turns your way. “To me.”

Your father draws her into a hug, his hand going to the back of her head. “Good. Good,” he says. “Then let us take you both home.”

A chill runs throughout your limbs. Feyd’s arms cinch around your waist. He lifts his head, his vision glazed over as his eyes prod yours. “You’re not leaving,” he mutters.

You shake your head. “I’m not leaving.”

“You are leaving,” your father intrudes, his voice dropping an octave. “You are leaving this place. You are leaving that beast.”

Your sister sighs. “Father…”

“You are returning home, and you will marry Kenric.”

A muffled noise rumbles in Feyd’s throat. Like thunder on the horizon. A threat of a storm. You press your palm against his heart to feel the beats harder, faster. 

“We departed before anything was signed,” you say. 

Your father stomps his foot like a petulant child. “You made a commitment!”

Your head jerks back, and suddenly, red infects your sight. Intent on approaching your father, you untangle yourself from Feyd’s arms, but fingers latch onto your wrist, keeping you from gaining significant distance. You let him hold you back. 

“You made a commitment!” you snap.

“And I will keep it!”

Nails dig into your pulse point, and you know Feyd is straining against his urges as much as you are. “No,” you push. “You will walk free with one of your daughters, and the other will remain where she belongs!”

“You do not belong here!”

“Yes, I–”

“Father,” your sister repeats. 

He whips around. “What!”

“Let them be,” she says. 

Silence falls over the room. Feyd’s grip eases but does not disappear.

“He is selfish and stubborn and feels no guilt in how he loves her,” she continues. “I can’t say I’m interested in seeing what else he’d be willing to do to get her back should she be ripped away from him again, but I have no doubt it would be devastating. And I’m sure you would not survive twice.” 

Your father’s brows dip in the center. His fist clenches. “Do not disrespect me.”

“It's not disrespect,” she says. “I would fear for you, for our people, our home. Leave her, and I will marry Kenric.” 

You suck in a sharp breath.

“I have no attachments to any man. It causes me no harm to step into my sister’s place.”

“No.” Your father shakes his head. “I won’t allow it.”

“You will if you’re smart,” she replies. Tension radiates from your father, his body practically shaking where he stands. “And surely you aim to be a smart man. Surely you don’t intend to take unnecessary risks that could hurt everything our House is meant to protect.”

He opens his mouth, but the threat of humiliation is enough to shut him up. It has always been an area where he falters. Inadequacy and the fear of being looked down upon. It’s why you were marrying the son of Lord Kenric. Your House is not a weak one by many standards, but your father could not let go of the whispers among other Houses that they are stronger. He sought a match effective in showing your equals the value of his House and offspring. And blinded by his decision, there was no room for him to consider the consequences.

You watch in awe as he stands down, shrinking in the shadow of your sister’s wisdom. A smart man indeed. 

When your sister nears you, she reaches out to take your hand in hers. Feyd releases you as, for the moment, his nemesis has been subdued.

“You don’t have to do this,” you tell her. “I’m prepared to fight him tooth and nail.”

She lightly chuckles. “Your brute would burn down the world. This is what’s best. Safest.”

“You’re sure?”

“I'd decided on this path before you arrived,” she says.

You look for hesitation, any regret, but she’s a stone wall—sturdy in her decision—and you recognize that arguing would implant a tone of dismissiveness of her wishes. 

“Thank you,” you mouth.

Your sister squeezes your fingers. She tips her head to you before she glances at Feyd. You peek over your shoulder, but his face is blank. Whatever passes between them is indecipherable—some unspoken understanding. 

“Keep him in line,” she says. Then she steps away from you.

Your father glares the entire way out of the fortress, and you know you’ve severed your ties today. You’ve made a choice, picked a side, and neither he nor your mother will ever understand. Whether or not they’ve become an enemy you will learn in time, but at the very least, it is unlikely you will be welcomed into the home where you grew up. A sacrifice you accept. 

As the doors close, Feyd comes up behind you. His arms circle your waist. Your back meets his chest. His lips plant on your neck. “Come to bed,” he says. 

You grin.

---

A/N: thanks for reading! If you liked it, let me know :)

[stargirl-russo]

Sailor Song (Alessia Russo x Reader)

Summary: Joining Arsenal WFC was supposed to be the best thing for your footballing career, you were the best female footballer in the world after all. You didn't expect the unexpected longing of a certain blonde that came with it.

(Hi! I've never written fan fics before but I was inspired by some I read and thought why not?! i hope you like it, i honestly might delete later or return it to drafts if I can? or even a pt 2??? idk lmk if you want more! enjoy. do I need to add warnings>....suggestive? angst? )

Recalling the exact moment when it happened was difficult to comprehend, maybe because you tried to completely erase the moment from your memory. You felt embarrassed, ashamed, and even a little disgraced with yourself. Why did you have to like another girl, a straight girl, who definitely didn't feel the same?!

Joining Arsenal this season was exactly what both parties wanted - you needed a change in scenery, and they wanted - no needed - a more clinical finisher like yourself. Everyone at the team was especially welcoming, considering your intimidating resume of accolades at such a young age - taking the women's football world by storm. You got on with everyone on the team, especially the Aussies, Kyra, Steph and Caitlin - being Australian yourself. But one particular teammate stood out to you the most, for more reasons than one.

You'd never forget the first day you finally saw and met the Alessia Russo in person, after admiring her from afar for about a year. She was absolutely beautiful, incredibly captivating and alluring. Words couldn't explain how you felt when you saw her at training, or heard her laugh or when she would smile - which was always. The way your heart hammered against your chest, it felt like you couldn't breathe, the butterflies in your stomach erupted like crazy. These feelings, they just felt...right. She made you feel so giddy and happy.

Although the thrill of this girl crush was very exciting, a part of you couldn't help but feel extremely ashamed. You were not supposed to like a teammate, let alone girls. You couldn't help but admire her gorgeous blue eyes, her long lashes, her soft voice, and her long blonde hair as you smiled shyly and shook her perfectly manicured hand, introducing yourself. Her southern british accent made you weak in the knees. "I can't wait to share the pitch with you this season."

You were absolutely certain that no one knew about this infatuation, crush or admiration, or how down bad you were - whatever you wanted to call it - with Alessia Russo. It was just so easy to get along with her, your calm natured and laid-back personalities working well together. Both sharing certain things in common, attending the same college in the US for football at different years, your love for fashion, travelling, and similar music tastes. She was just so sweet, genuine, caring, and just a ray of sunshine - you couldn't get enough. The chemistry you both had was clearly evident on the pitch also, as your styles of play complemented each other perfectly; turning arsenal's season around with each match.

It scared you how you strongly you felt about her, as she probably had no idea about the effect she had on you, and above all, probably didn't feel the same. And now you were going to continue to play alongside her and work with her nearly every day this season. You'd eagerly wait to see your cheerful teammate and greet her happily weekly at training. It was a blessing and a curse, but it was something that kept you going.

Hiding your sexuality was something you had no trouble dealing with initially as you just constantly immersed yourself with the football: whether it was with routine season interviews, the sponsorship photoshoots, the constant training or the glamorous award shows - it kept you busy, a distraction which led to you further cementing your place as the best young women's footballer in the world. It's not anything anyone really expected of you anyway, to like girls. Besides, you never spoke about personal matters to the media, so no one really assumed anything at first. Which was a plus.

You'd constantly make excuses to avoid going out with friends away from football, who wanted to enjoy a night on the town, bragging about the boys they'd make out with at clubs, or the crushes they had on them. Not that you could relate though, but a part of you wished you could feel that sense of normalcy. To fit in, to relate. No one had no idea what you were going through or how you felt. It got harder to find excuses to deny random set ups with guys. Your feelings for Alessia were actually driving you to insanity, you were most likely going through an identity crisis - but you were still in denial.

However, the longer you concealed your true feelings and the harder you tried to deny it, you found it harder each and every day hiding how you felt about the certain blonde. It became more difficult to suppress your feelings, you wanted to talk to someone, - anyone - but you were afraid with how they would react if they found out. Besides you weren't going to embarrass yourself if she didn't even feel the same, what would be the point of coming out anyway right?!

But maybe you should've controlled yourself. You should have ignored her, distanced yourself even. It was fine though, you were just acknowledging that fact she was really gorgeous, and you weren't crushing on her - or so you told yourself. But the not-so-subtle glances at her during the training sessions said otherwise.

The glancing became constant, admiring her whenever she'd move with or without the ball or take a drink of water during break. You just couldn't help but admire her longingly. Thinking of believable excuses when being called out by the outspoken Katie McCabe became more difficult to articulate. You were certain Alessia was oblivious to this, and she was - for the time being.

It was supposed to be a post game interview focusing on the team's accomplishments this current season, given the difficulties the team faced at the beginning of the year. You expected to answer questions about your valuable contributions to the match and the squad, not some irrelevant, personal, stupid, phased, feelings that had nothing to do with football.

The lights were brighter than usual in the media room, you were riding a high after your incredible individual and team's performance. You couldn't stop smiling. Sitting in the media room alongside your captain Kim Little, you felt proud and finally content with yourself. You felt as if you were finally contributing to a team, a team that was winning. A distraction for the time being.

That is, until the question was asked.

You will never forget the way your stomach dropped at the question, the silence in the media room, the smirk on the reporters' face. He knew he struck a nerve as the colour drained from your face, you were no longer smiling. You're not sure why the question was asked or what value it had to the match you had just played, or above all - why this reporter was permitted into the the media room anyway asking such inconceivable questions.

You shook your head awaking from the absolute shock and audacity of the reporter. There is no way this is really happening right now. You were media trained - you got this. Totally.

'Could you please repeat the question?' You asked politely into the mic, besides the fact that your was voice now quiet and shaky as you squirmed in your seat, refusing to look at the reporter. He noticed your uneasy reaction, and pressed on, knowing there is more to what your letting on.

"Can you address the rumours within the women's football community that you currently have romantic feelings for your teammate, Alessia Russo?"

"What?! That's ridiculous. Next question."

Maybe you responded to that too quickly, way too quickly for it not to be suspicious as you dismissed him. To your knowledge, and last time you checked, you hadn't come out, you hadn't revealed how you felt about her to anyone - especially not Alessia, and you were certain someone as beautiful as her was taken - surely.....right?

Your throat was going to constrict, no doubt, your breathing becoming heavier and faster, your ears turning a bright red and your leg begins to bounce. Your eyes dart around the room. "How is this football related?" your captain Kim interjects, sensing your uncomfortable state as you fidget on the spot and find it hard to remain composed. She herself looks confused.

Both your heart and mind race. Who told them? How do they know? Where did they even think of something like that? They can't know. Does Alessia know?

You were widely aware that this post-game press conference was currently live. This didn't make the situation better. "Is there really nothing going on? You seem pretty flustered. Besides, you didn't deny it did you?" He smirked, a chorus of chuckles emerging from around the room.

"Stop instigating." The words pour out of your mouth defensively before you can stop them, let alone even comprehend what is going on. You can hear your heart beat in your ears.

"I'm not instigating anything, just trying to get the truth out of you. Why don't you start being honest? Show the world who you really are."

Your body shakes with frustration and panic, you can't do this anymore. You rush out of the media room, holding back tears of frustration. This is absolutely ridiculous you think to yourself, barging open the door of the locker-room, ignoring the looks from your teammates.

Silence fills the room, you look up at the locker room’s television, seeing Kim still in the media room - the broadcast was indeed live. Shit. Alessia, along with everyone else in the room definitely saw it. Shit. You freeze up.

Steph, your Aussie teammate turns to you "Hey, are you okay?" You refuse to say anything - afraid your voice might crack, further revealing your vulnerability. You refuse to make eye contact with anyone, especially Alessia. Steph senses the inner turmoil you’re enduring, and gestures everyone out of the locker-room.

You sit there with your head in your hands, as tears threaten to fall. You didn't reveal much in the post-match interview, so everything is fine right? But maybe thats the problem. You didn't deny anything technically - further exposing and embarrassing yourself and probably Alessia. You fail to notice she's still in the locker-room.

You look up slowly, locking eyes. Her ocean blue eyes bore into yours, a glimpse of concern and curiosity. "Can we talk?" She questions softly. Shit

"No thank you, I'd rather not." You say stubbornly, packing your wash bag quickly as she sits down next to you. You had to get out, you had to get away from her.

Alessia is surprised by your nonchalant response. "Lets just talk about this, please?" She says softly in a pleading voice, her eyes looking up, trying to lock with yours.

"I'm sorry." You say quietly, packing your bag and making your way towards the exit of the locker-room as fast as you can. You actually couldn't fathom that this was happening. Is this some sick joke?!

Alessia is concerned and saddened by your dismissive tone, she can tell that this whole situation has negatively affected you and is eating away at you. "Don't be sorry." She says softly, standing up. "It can be hard times, but I just want to understand whats going on. You clearly feel something. Something about me."

You stop in your tracks and turn around to face her, she makes her way towards you her eyes never leaving yours. Your heart aches, and she can see the adoration and the longing that you have for her in your eyes, behind internal conflict and self-hate.

"You're not a bad person. You know that I won't look at you differently." She whispers, pleading with you, trying to lock eyes with yours. "Please don't shut me out. I care about you, so much."

Alessia doesn't wait for a response. She steps closer to you now, closer the distance slowly. Your panting heavily, still refusing to look at her in the eyes, petrified you'd get lost in her ocean eyes. Terrified your eyes will reveal more than your words did in the press conference only moments ago. She can't feel the same. She doesn't.

She gently grabs your hand, interlocking your fingers with her ones. You feel as if you're going to have a heart attack, her touch sending bolts of electricity through your body. She can sense you're avoiding eye contact still.

"Hey, look at me" she whispers, staring at your now very flustered face, looking at you intently. Her eyes filled with concern, worry and something else, something you can't quite make out, something you've never seen from her before.

You still avoid her gaze, until she cups your cheek. You lock eyes with hers and you feel like you could die.

"just, look at me" she whispers once more, gently stroking your cheek bone with the pad of her thumb "thats it, just look at me."

Before you can stop yourself, the words fall out of your mouth in a whisper "i am. how can I not?" You let out a shaky breath at that, noticing her lips curl into a small smile, her eyes following your gaze down to her own lips.

"i know, I know you do, I see you" she whispers in response, moving closer to your face now, both your breaths mingling. Your heart continues to pound, her thumb gently traces your jawline, her eyes locked onto yours with an intensity you’ve never seen before.

Its as if time has stopped. Your heart is pounding so hard against your ribcage you might have a heart attack. But her presence, the way shes looking at you, her voice, her touch—it makes sense in ways you never expected.

And then, just as you think you can’t handle the intensity any longer, she leans in. Were you about to kiss the girl you've been in love with for so long now.....

[multific]

A Thousand Years

Astarion x Reader

Summary: Astarion tells a story of love.

"Tell me about your wife." said the man sitting in front of Astarion, the room was quiet around them, only the crackling of the fire could be heard.

Upon hearing the word, wife, Astarion's features softened. 

"It might be a long one."

"I want to hear it." insisted the man as he leaned back in his chair, waiting for Astarion to start.

Astarion smiled, his eyes filled with love as he began.

"My wife... My beloved Y/N. She saved me you know, in more ways than one. She not only helped me kill the man who caused me so much pain and suffering, but she saved me from myself.

My beloved was a strong woman, brave and incredibly beautiful. She was a kind soul and yet, she could kill a thousand men without taking a break.

She loved songs and loved to dance. Although that might be because I was the one dancing with her. She often said she didn't wish to dance with anyone else but me.

She enjoyed sweets. But only the ones I have given her.

And even if I told her not, she kept on eating them.

It has been so long yet, I will never forget her laugh. She became my world. You know, it wasn't even intentional, I fell in love by accident. I was only meant to seduce her so she would help me kill Cazador. And yet I found myself in love.

But make no mistake, I never regretted the feelings I have. Not once. Falling in love with her was so easy.

I am quite privileged to be able to tell that she was my wife.

My... scars on my back, she cried when she first saw them. She hugged me and told me how sorry she was for I had to endure such pain. She kissed me and cried at the same time. I was so confused by it, I didn't know what to do.

But then, not long after, I asked her to marry me." Astarion looked at the gold band on his finger.

"I never believed in marriage, I thought it was silly for people to bind themselves to one another, and the symbol of it all... a simple ring. I laughed at the idea until I met the person I never wanted to let go of again. Suddenly I wanted nothing more but to have her bonded to me and for me to be bonded to her. I looked and searched for the perfect rings. Matching ones, but hers had a simple stone in the middle. A stone which was made of our blood. The perfect diamond, mixed with my and her blood. And then, we were married. Not like the words of others mattered to me, I would have been happy just to have her in my life, but to have her as my wife... it meant everything. 

I will not bore you of the events directly after the wedding, leave it up for your imagination I suppose, but I can assure you, she was the first woman who could have me at her feet with a simple look.

And she always looked at me with so much love and care. She was always so gentle and lovely.

When people say love burns like fire, they lie, my love for her burns like lava, much like the core of the Earth. I was ready to destroy everything and everyone who would dare get between us. If I had to, I would have burnt down villages for her, for she was mine.

And not long after, she gave me the greatest gift. 

A gift so precious.

I will never forget the look on her face when she told me, pure happiness.

She was with child.

Something I never even thought would be possible for me and yet there she was, getting more and more round with my child, with my son. Our son.

She was the sun for me. I have lived a long life in darkness and pain, and she made it all go away with a simple simple. I had a life of happiness thanks to her." Astarion leaned back in his chair once more when the noises from the kitchen stopped.

"STOP TELLING PEOPLE I'M DEAD!"

"I have never used the word 'dead', My Love." Astarion turned to look at you as you exited the kitchen.

"But you made it sound like I am." you pouted as Astarion looked at the ring on your finger, he smiled as you placed the food on the table. "Don't listen to him, Love, he is but an old romantic." you said as you sat down.

"I am very much aware, Mother. I just like to listen to him talk about you." admitted your son as he smiled at the two of you. Now a grown man, yet all you could see was him as a little boy running around the house, hair silver like his father's but eyes the same as yours.

"That's because I love your mother very much."

"I love you too." you replied as you all finally began to eat.

You two loved each other for a thousand years, and you will continue to love for another thousand to come.

Your son could only hope to find such love.

Taglist: @fleursirvart@greenarrowhead @thisismysecrethappyplace@sincerelyfan@theoneanna@aestheticsandmarvel@rororo06@castellandiangelo@destynelseclipsa@spilledinkindumpster@capsiclesdoll@puknow@alwayshave-faith@alex12948@lxdyred@imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl@anonymoussherlockandmarvelgeek@praline357 @trshngyn@avengers-r-us @violet-19999 @top1bbgloak @manduse@jacalineiscomingforyou @mandoloriancookie@noname2246

In case you want to help out a dreamer: patreon.com/multific  

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

DO NOT STEAL, REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS  

[lilbrainbigheartz]

Headcanons of Stu as your boyfriend💗

warning: slight mention of nsfw

-he is so boyfriend material (crying ,sobbing,throwing up)

-be prepared of him wanting your attention 24/7

I imagine him getting out of class and being like: "YAY Y/N time!!"

-Stu is not shy about affection in public. He’ll kiss you on the cheek in the middle of the cafeteria or yell, “That’s my baby!” if someone mentions your name.

-since his love language is physical touch, he won‘t miss out a chance to hug, cuddle and kiss you.

Lots of neck kisses (because he somehow has a thing for necks… *flashback of him creeping behind Randy and Billy eyeing their necks💀*)

He will pull you on his lap. You: "But there‘s enough space for two". Stu:"pffft- space? Who needs that?"

-Stu loves surprising you with little acts of affection, like sneaking up behind you to hug you or spinning you around unexpectedly. “Gotcha! You can’t escape my love, babe.”

-you won‘t be able to escape him.  Don‘t even try. He will do anything for you to give him atleast a hug everyday. "C‘mon just give me- just give me a hug! Babe!! Just give me a hug! Please!" While he suffocates you in his arms💀

-he‘s your biggest cheerleader. Got an answer right in class? Bro claps his hands and cheering for you as if you won an Oscar. "Yep! What my bae said! Everyone take notes!"

-everytime you talk that guy scans your face intently instead of really listening to you (also one of his flaws sometimes) He‘ll just either interrupt you with a kiss or brush your hair out of your face. “You’re so cute, it’s not even fair. How am I supposed to focus when you’re this adorable?”Your reaction depends on what you were telling him.

If you just told him about new date idea that could be fun for the two of you, you probably just laugh it off and demand him to listen now to you.

But if you told him about something you are upset about, he‘ll grimace a bit knowing he messed up-

Stu:"oh- shii, sorry babe! I swear I will listen now- give me a second chance please-"

-I think he will have his sassy moments sometimes. Probably when you guys have some rare small argument You:"Do you ever just stop being too much for just a second?" Stu:"No Y/N, if I did our relationship would be boring. You‘re welcome"

Just an honorable mention lololol-

-I don‘t think he is that jealous once you two are together.  But if he is, he just might say something like: "Oh yeah I know! My babe is that fine". And just stick out his fucking long tongue 😝

-he won‘t shut up about you. Seriously. For his friendgroup (especially Billy) he is ten times worse now. You have been absent in school or couldn‘t come to their hang out because you had something else to do? Sidney:"Y/N told me she was busy with-". Stu:"OH WHAT?! OH MY GOD! This can‘t be happening!" Tatum: "Thanks Sid, now he‘ll whine for the next hour."

-another honorable mention!

When it‘s halloween you two match your costumes <3 ABDVKSDJDJD- I also headcanon him loving xmas!  So imagine him holding up a mistletoe for a kiss everytime he gets the chance to do so! (Maybe or maybe not I will write xmas time headcanons for Stu ?😙)

-since it‘s lonely at his place because of his parents rarely being there (and where ever the f his supposed sister Leslie is) he will randomly stop at your home and crawl into your room through the window at random times like 3 AM. Just be ready for your lovely boyfriend to jump into your bed on top of you to cuddle you out

-he will also tease you with random nicknames. "Hey, Snugglemuffin!” “Stu, where did you even come up with that?” "Talent."

-Stu is Stu. He also can be inappropiate.  He would just go behind you and give you a little scare by grabbing your tits (if female) out of nowhere and just stick his tongue and disappear quickly back to his friendgroup again, leaving you confused. If male or female, he will also give you the most shameless and loudest ass slap making you physically startle 😭 

-or he‘ll make an inappropiate comment in front of everyone. Since it happened so often, you all were able to tell when he was ready to drop one. Stu:"wow hon, your new shirt looks so awesome but better on my flo-" Tatum and Sidney groan, Randy stops him with a "No." And Billy would literally get up and leave while saying "nope not doing that today.“

Or:

*eyes you like some 5 stars dinner meal and then just grins* "You‘re giving me quite the hard time to focus-". You choose if you like his comments or not (well I do- IT WAS JUST A DEMON SRY)

So yeah as I said Stu is just so boyfriend! <3

[01zfan]

presidential suite pt. 2

actor!eunseok x actress!reader | 5.2k words

a commission i got for the second part. the person who commissioned me i got your anon message and i just want to say THANK YOU! i was not aware so thank you for informing me heh.

this fic kind of was inspired by a house in nebraska by ethel cain.

contains: unprotected sex, mentions of online hate, unsaid feelings (but are they really unsaid)

presidential suite: one | two

Getting inside this place was alarmingly easy. Eunseok had forgotten what it was like to not be greeted by bellboys or a doorman who took his job too seriously. The most alarming difference was that he had to close his own door before his taxi drove off and he had to navigate through the delayed automatic doors to get to the front desk. 

Even if he lived the pampered lifestyle, he was still resourceful. He still had remnants of what it was like to be in places like these, no matter how hard he tried to forget. To find your room all he had to was give the man behind the front desk your description and a shitty excuse the man didn’t care to hear. He didn’t even get to finish his story before he pointed down the hallway.

“Third from the left.” He said without looking up.

Eunseok watched the man turn up the volume of the game to show him the conversation was done. He casted one more look to the bell that had DO NOT RING scribbled on a torn piece of paper tucked under it.The sign-in sheet next to the unused bell was simply a suggestion. The halved pencil attached to the clipboard had a broken piece of lead, all the names on the paper were fake. He only pulled his cap securely to his head before he started walking down the hallway.

His Golden Goose shoes matched the integrity of the carpet. His shoes were scuffed up, the artificial stains were a sign of wealth once you escaped this tax bracket. If this was the Ritz, the bare spots in the carpet would’ve been raved about on Architectural Digest. If this was on the opposite side of town the people rushing down the hallways would’ve been praised for their Indie Sleaze aesthetic. 

His avoidance of this life was on purpose, he didn’t want to even get the chance to muddy the lines. The actors who were Eunseok’s colleagues now had no idea of this life. They didn’t know that disheveled and falling apart wasn’t chic. They didn’t know about flickering lights that weren’t supposed to flicker, or the eery silence that was interrupted by whatever happens on the other side of these thin walls.

If this was a movie set it’d be a horror and the director would have to yell at Eunseok for being too relaxed. He’d be instructed to look scared walking past the night creatures drifting in and out of the place, he’d be told to look weary and hold everything close to him. But he couldn’t help it, no matter how much he hated it. This was home too. He knew the smell of mildew before he learned about notes of the fancy perfume brands that endorsed him. He was more familiar with the lower class etiquette of minding your fucking business before how to conduct himself on red carpets and fancy wrap parties. Eunseok hated that this was familiar, he hated that some part of him actually missed this. 

This was the one place Song Eunseok was just another John, another person walking up and down the hallways looking for a number on a door. The one place left in the world that no one would even bat an eye or turn a curious head wondering if that was really him, because why would a movie star be here? Why would they even care if they knew it was him?

He knocked once and pressed his ear to the door. The number matched from the text you sent him and matched the directions he was given at the front desk, but he wanted to be sure. The hallway was empty now except for him, his goose down jacket was loud when he reached for the doorknob.

“I’m in here.” You said on the other side. 

You didn’t have to come open the door. He remembered that here, nothing automatically locked. All he had to do was twist the knob and push past the rotting doorframe for it to open. 

The sight of you from the hallways made Eunseok’s heart drop. All of this was too familiar. You sitting on the edge of an uncomfortable mattress, the corners of the comforter tucked in tight to hide the fact that the mattress was dirty. A loud game show lighting up the corner of the room. The Price is Right shined on the aged wallpaper and the stained chair perpetually stuck in the corner. The bedside lamp with a pull chain and an ancient wooden bed frame that had seen better days. 

Eunseok had never been in this room before, but everything was familiar. This room was three years ago, before he hit his big break and back when he didn’t know if he’d make it in this world. This room was home when he couldn’t afford rent and where he found out one other person understood him. 

You were comfortable. Leaned back on your hands, looking up to Eunseok like you were telling him he was home. Your unwavering confidence confirmed that you weren’t putting on an act three days ago. You didn’t know how to navigate the space of wealth and fame like you did anonymity and privation of riches. Eunseok waited for you to hurriedly shut the door or hide your face or use a fake name. But you didn’t care, someone else passed by your open door you didn’t looked scared. You knew they would continue about their business, not worried about anyone else’s life but their own.

Eunseok tried to act like he had the upper hand. He acted like he shut the door quickly simply because he wanted to, not because he didn’t want anyone else to see you wearing the lingerie set he bought for you in Milan. He stayed in front of the door and crossed his arms, trying to ignore his heart hammering in his chest.

“You called me.” He said simply.

That was the truth. You called him about twenty minutes ago, breathing heavy into the receiver asking about his schedule for the next day. Eunseok lied and said that he was free, despite him having a redeye flight that was going to ship him to the other side of the world in a couple hours. Eunseok was well aware knew he didn’t have any time to waste, but he was still frozen in your entryway looking at you.

“You came.” The commercial break on the box set was louder than your voice, but you cut through it clearly. “Really quick.” You added.

This was also the truth.

You shifted on the bed and Eunseok swallowed his nerves, fake coughing to himself. Maybe he wasn’t home. This felt more like a trap he walked right into. He didn’t realize how quickly you stripped him of his wealth and the arrogance that came with it. Your text and quiet phone call made him think that he was in charge, but with you in front of him he was humiliated. He was reminded of the times he came to you like this in the beginning stages of your careers. Back when these were the only places you two could afford while booking odd jobs, back when the cost of travel and staying here almost took all your earnings. His past he spent so long trying to bury was unearthed and he felt compelled to fall to his knees and crawl to you. 

He knows you can see through him. Even if he can barely see you in the dark room he knows the elusive Eunseok-Before-The-Fame stands before you.

“I won’t talk about it if you won’t.” You say.

He has to think hard about what you’re referencing. When you let your hands slip out from under you to lay fully on the bed the only thing in his mind is you’re still the You-From-Before and how you’re waiting for him just a few lengthy strides away. 

He first thinks you’re talking about the fact that you two still most likely very much have feelings for eachother, but he messed it up by listening to his agents and you messed it up by telling him you hate him every chance you get. 

He then thinks you’re talking about the fact that he came running faster than you came running to him despite the fact that his schedule right now is currently busier than yours. 

Then, finally, Eunseok remembers what you’re actually talking about. The reviews for your movie came in from the film critics and they were less than shining. You were talking about the fact that your phone had to be shut off due to the panic of your team and you being flooded with people’s unprompted opinion of you. The fallout was so bad that Eunseok stepped in to defend you. 

(Although framing his tweet saying see it for yourself as defense was pretty egregious, it was the most his team would allow and as far as he could go before you’d skin him alive. But now your searches were filled with speculation of you two still being together. Eunseok knew that you being connected to him in any way was arguably worse for you than being talked about negatively. He assumed the situation was too complex to even address, which is why you referred to it as it and why avoided eye contact by sinking further to the bed).

So Eunseok didn’t push the situation any further. He just shed his jacket and hung it on the leaning coat rack, then his hat and shoes. He took off his shirt and then worked his pants down his legs, stepping out of it the closer he got to you. You moved closer to the center of the bed as Eunseok closed in, only looking to him once he was the one looking down on you. 

He leaned onto the bed, one hand pressed into the mattress beside your head and the other next to your ribcage as he leaned closer. He could see through the mask. Something he would’ve teased you for in his presidential suite he ignored per your request.

“How do you want it?” He asked.

Eunseok was too careful. He could tell you saw through his mask too. His hands stayed on the mattress for too long waiting for your guidance, his overconfidence was nowhere to be found. He was navigating you like he was that same threatened young actor again, before he learned to hide how scared he was of you and ending up in places like these again. 

“You’re in charge.” You said simply. 

Eunseok admittedly felt nervous hearing you give him all the authority. He hasn’t explicitly been in charge since you two were fake-together. Ever since he broke your heart and this arrangement started everything was a battle. If it wasn’t you stubbornly refusing to submit it was Eunseok refusing to give you what you wanted. You two had built up a relationship of being mutually unpleasant he forgot what it was like to be willing. 

As soon as your instructions fell from your lips you started touching his arms in anticipation of what he was going to do. He hesitated again. He wasn’t this nervous since his first award show. He didn’t even feel like this when he was announced to be in the running for that Emmy, but then he was so certain he’d lose. He also felt like he was losing in some sense here too. The window to let you know he wanted to talk about it was closing the more you touched him. He was at risk of being thrown out on his ass and in just his boxers if he told you how uncharacteristically tender and sentimental this moment felt to him, or if he said he genuinely enjoyed your performance in your recent project. 

Eunseok had to push himself off the bed to clear his mind. He didn’t need to tell you about yourself, it was clear you called him here to make you forget about everything, that’s the only reason you two ever called eachother. So Eunseok paid attention instead to the way you raised your body on the bed to follow him, eyes wide and waiting for instructions.

“Tell me what to do.” You said.

Eunseok swallowed thickly. The television is so loud, cheers from the audience interrupted his train of thought.

“Flip over.” He said.

You listened so fast it made his head spin. Before Eunseok knew it you were face down and ass up simply because he said so. If he had asked you to do this any other time you would’ve scowled at him, or you’d say make me if you were really feeling like being an asshole. But you were pliant, you even took the extra step to look back at him waiting for approval.

“Is this good?” You asked.

You really were an actress. Your whiny tone was perfect. The bed creaking as you wiggled your ass in the air was incredible set design. The television illuminating your pathetic pout was perfect. Eunseok didn’t feel worthy to see such a production. 

“Perfect.” Eunseok answered.

You even whimpered at his compliment instead of rolling your eyes. He almost dropped dead before he remembered he had his own role to play.

Eunseok tried to manually flip the switch before he went towards you again. His hands went to your back, grazing the silk fabric of your camisole. He took in the sight of your camisole folding further up your body, the silky fabric bunching at the beginning of your arch. He saw you in this position more than he saw your face during sex, but this was different. He saw the way you were reacting to him and how you bit at your lip in between each one of his touches. He couldn’t control himself from grabbing the back of your thigh roughly, causing you to jolt from the force. He looks to your face pressed into the mattress when he pinches your skin. Instead of chiding him you only let out a shaky breath.

“Feels good.” You say.

This was so unlike you. He can’t remember the last time a compliment fell from your lips in this setting. Any praise was always backhanded, followed by a way he could improve. You’re delivery is good BUT, your fingers feel nice BUT, your dick is big BUT. Eunseok was so use to it he was waiting for you to tack on an insult to your sentence, but you only waited for the next thing he’d do to you.

Eunseok nodded to himself and wasted no time pushing down his boxers. The thin sheet on the mattress rubbed uncomfortably against his knees as he got behind you. Being here should’ve disgusted him. If he was consistent, he would be making fun of the peeling wallpaper and the fact that you were acting like a pornstar instead of a high-brow actress in this cheap room. He should’ve teased you for needing his support online and in real life, maybe even throwing in something about how desperate you sounded over the phone. But Eunseok unfortunately felt unlike himself. He just blames it on the fact that you’re too distracting when he’s behind you and when you’re making sounds you both knew would leak through the walls into the hallway and neighboring rooms. 

“Isn’t this place disgusting?” You sighed.

The way you were thinking out loud was too obvious. You never had to do that before. Eunseok had more than enough ammunition when it came to you. Sometimes it was a competition of who could make a snide remark the fastest. He always won, he was quick-witted and delivered everything with a smirk that had you scowling and left you with clenched fists. But when you were practically inviting him to comment on the state of this place he couldn’t think of anything. For some reason this felt self-depreciating instead of separating himself from his old life.

When he guided your hips to press against his dick he already felt weak. Eunseok was silent behind you, his mind blank even if he knew exactly what you wanted him to say. But this place wasn’t all that bad. The smell was inviting, no one judged him and he was granted the anonymity he hadn’t felt in ages.

“Seok.” You push your hips back to grind against his. “Please.” You whine.

The desperation in your voice made Eunseok tilt his head back. You stopped moving your hips and completely swayed in Eunseok’s hold. He was slow dragging your hips against his. He could feel his precum staining your silk bottoms, he saw the small splotches he was leaving behind. 

“What do you need?” He asked.

The irony of the situation is not lost on him. When you two were together like this, being mean came like second nature. Sometimes it seemed like being abrasive was what got you two off. Denying pleasure and insulting eachother during sex was easy. The emotional labor of getting with someone who broke your heart was easily masked behind mutual hatred. Now, with you begging Eunseok to be mean to you he couldn’t think of anything. He knew your movie wasn’t going to tank once the public saw it. He knew you were good at acting, he knew that you were truly uncomfortable with the life of fame he thought you were suited perfectly for. 

Everything was suddenly off limits, he was suddenly no better than you. He was just like you, comfortable in these dingy rooms instead of penthouse suites. He wanted to tell you that he tossed and turned all night, counting threads of linen instead of sheep. The big windows terrified him and he always felt like he was being watched. He was just better than you at ignoring that voice in the back of his head that told him he didn’t deserve it.

Your hand that was pressed into the mattress reached for your waistband. Eunseok watched you pull your shorts down as far as you could reach. Eunseok quickly pulled your shorts down the rest of the way, and he watched you desperately kick them off your legs. Your hand wasn’t even floating for a second before Eunseok grabbed it. He had the answer to his question when he pinned your hand to your lower back and you moaned loudly. He knew exactly what you wanted when he leaned closer to your body to clasp his other hand around the back of your neck. 

You gasped at the sudden movement, the complete change in Eunseok’s demeanor. Your legs spread further on the mattress and Eunseok moved his knees to slot in the space. 

He leaned his body close to your back, causing the side of your head to go deeper into the mattress while you whimpered from the slight pain of your pinned hand. He had you trapped, fixed in the position he decided to put you in. 

Eunseok should make fun of you in your ear. You’re too damn proud for your own good, you’re too hard on yourself, you’re too closed off. But you also take up too much of his mind and Eunseok feels a wave of nostalgia pull at his chest.

“Fuck. Flip over.” Eunseok breathes.

He lets go of you and you’re on your back in seconds. He watches your nipples peak through the thin silk fabric. You’re bewildered, from both the eye contact and the way you listened to him so quickly. When he pulls your bottoms off the rest of the way you wordlessly work your camisole off. Eunseok puts both of the garments gently on the bed, completely opposite from his clothes that are spread across the floor. 

Eunseok has to hide the intimacy behind gathering both of your wrists in one hand and pinning it to the mattress.

He grabs his dick with his other hand, looking down between your two bodies as he gets closer to your cunt. Eunseok looks up just to see you preening your neck to get a view of it, too.

“I’ll take care of you, alright?” Eunseok assures into your ear. 

He has to hide his sincerity behind squeezing your wrist together until your lips part in pain. 

You stopped letting him into any other part of your life a long time ago. You stopped calling him about your roles or running lines by him. The last connection he has to you is fucking you on the rare occasion you’re not stubborn enough to let him know you need him. It’s already terrible that Eunseok is about to get shipped off to Japan and not have access to you for the better half of a year. He absolutely can’t afford to make this too tender despite everything in him wanting to do so, because the last thing Eunseok needs is for you to stop because he’s being too nice. So he tries to add the know-it-all tone to his voice, even though the need to take care of you only makes him want to live with you in this disgusting room for the rest of his life.

He’s relieved you buy his act. Immediately your head nods against the warm puffs of air fanning your ear and preened your hips forward to the best of your ability. Eunseok feels you uselessly trying to prop yourself up on your leg, just for it to slip out from underneath you again. He laughs because he can’t believe how obsessed he is with the way you move, you whine because you think he’s making fun of you.  

When he finally pushes inside of you with his chest flush against yours, he fully believes the nostalgia is going to kill him. Like you were plucked right from his memory, your hair tickles his face the same way as it did back then. The obnoxious commercial break projects the same way. If he wasn’t pressed to your ear he would’ve never heard the sound of relief that left your lips as he sunk further into you. You squeeze around him the same way you always have, so tight and warm.

When Eunseok pulls away from the side of your face, he is a breath away from your lips. Your eyes break from the water stains on the ceiling to look directly into Eunseok’s eyes. He can see the shock, in any other instance you’d mock him for looking so sorrowful. Kicked puppy is what you’d always call him when he looked at you like this, and mimic his pulled in eyebrows and mock the longing look in his eyes. But now you’re silent, and you mirror his expression with no malice.

“I’m going to Japan in a couple of hours.” Eunseok says.

He pulls out, despite your walls clinging to him desperately. He pushes back in and your back arches off the creaky bed. Your hands go to his shoulders, a desperate grip keeping him close.

“Congratulations.” You say.

You have to bite your lip when Eunseok repeats his slow thrust.

“I won’t be back for nearly a year.” He continues.

He purposefully lies about the amount of time he’ll be gone just to see your reaction. Your hand moves from his shoulder to wrap around his back. Eunseok feels you pull him in tighter as you attempt to hike your leg up.

“Once again, congratulations.” The break in commercials and the show starting again makes the room completely dark. You whine with parted lips when Eunseok flicks his hips upwards. “I don’t care if you fuck your costar, by the way.” 

You give him the opportunity to be mad on a silver platter. The option to squeeze your neck is right there, maybe even pulling at your hair until you whine from the pain. But he’s got you like this, it’s hard to add venom to your words. He just wants to caress your sweaty cheeks and tilt his head at the bothered tone of your voice. Also, Eunseok knows that if you didn’t care about the possibility of him fucking his costar you both wouldn’t be here. 

He moves to your neck to avoid you seeing his expressions. He pulls out until his tip prods your entrance and pushes in roughly. He feels your nails press into his back and he grips he sheets beside your head. He repeats the motion again wordlessly, and you moan right in his ear.

“God forbid.” Eunseok mutters against your skin.

He just now realizes that the air conditioning unit hasn’t kicked on once this entire time, and that it’s so late in the night the game show turned into a televangelists. The sweaty man on his television preaches about forgiveness. He preaches about the bible while the bed creaks underneath the movement. The two of you are drowning in irony and Eunseok can’t believe he’s the only one who notices.

“I didn’t fuck her you know.” He continues.

Her is alot of people. You have name dropped his costar he was with at Maria Hernandez when you were feeling particularly spiteful, but Eunseok uses her in an all encompassing way. Being a sex symbol is good for press and his career, but not so much for every other facet of his life. So Eunseok uses her as swipes his thumb against your jawline, then glides up to your cheekbone to let you know he hasn’t thought about anyone since he’s started thinking about you. 

“I don’t care.” You say.

Eunseok brings you forward by the back of your neck to kiss you. You immediately press against him harder than he kissed you and you stick your tongue into his mouth before he can pull away. Eunseok feels you grab at his arms and you pull him down until your back is on the bed. 

You try to wrap your legs around his waist again but Eunseok stops you by pressing his hand to the back of one of your thighs. He pushes more and more, until it’s close to resting on his shoulder and you moan from the stretch. With more of you open he goes deeper, pressing your body into the mattress.

“I really didn’t fuck her.” He repeats into your neck.

As if the way he was fucking you was supposed to prove his loyalty. Every movement is slow and deliberate, the way he sighs into your ear before pulling back to look down at you.

“Was she better than me or something?” You ask.

He is almost stunned to silence at how badly you want to fight. He knows that the two of you carefully fostered this type of vitriol, but he is shocked that you have doubled down to prevent anything sweet from happening. 

Still, even through your persistent on starting something Eunseok suddenly finds it in himself to be calmer. He shakes his head and moves back until your legs rest on his shoulders. He straightens them with his arm across your knee, and you curse from the stretch.

“I wouldn’t know.” He says truthfully.

Anything else he tries to say is interjected by the televangelist and the way your calves rest on his shoulders. Eunseok goes back and pulls you across the sheets to follow him. His long thrusts turn into ruts that makes your body jolt. Eunseok eyes the way your skin and chest moves from his thrusts, and he smirks when your hands go to your chest to hold them still.

“You should come visit me.” When you look up from where he’s fucking into you confused he pulls you towards him again. “In Okinawa.” He clarifies.

“Now why would I do that?” Your eyebrows knit together even more when his legs slap against yours. “Right there.” You whimper.

Eunseok makes sure to hit that stop again as he reaches for your hand. You refuse to give it to him, making him overlap yours on his chest as he comes closer. The stretch is too much, but if it’s not painfully obvious at this point you like the pain. 

You writhe on the mattress underneath him and it just makes him want you to visit him even more. His hand that was holding your legs straight goes to his mouth, and instantly one of your legs falls from his shoulders. You’re determined to keep the other one up there, even when Eunseok laves his fingers before dipping it between your legs. Your eyes are wide as you watch him, and like his touch is electric your back arches off the bed again when he touches your sensitive clit.

“Maybe I’ll go there and never come back.” Eunseok purposefully adds extra pressure to his finger and he feels your foot press into the side of his face. Your lips part but the only thing that comes out is a high-pitched moan. “Wouldn’t you miss me?” He asks.

“You’d come back.” You avoid a direct answer but you nod your head.

“If you asked.” He says quickly. 

The sounds you two make together is louder than anything else. Eunseok can still see the projection of light, but the only sound he can pick up is your voice.

“If you got another job here.” You stutter. 

You move your hand from Your chest and Eunseok takes your place. Now it’s your hand over Eunseok’s gripping tight.

“Or if you asked.” He repeats.

“I’m close.” You say. 

Eunseok nods and focuses on circling his fingers on your clit. He can feel it becoming more swollen underneath his touch, he can feel your walls sporadically seizing around his dick. Eunseok’s ruts became slow, drawing out pleasure as he tried to get your back to arch off the bed. When you do it again he lets your leg fall from his shoulder. He pressed his chest to yours, pressing kisses to the perimeter of your parted lips before kissing you directly. 

“I really would come back if you asked.” He says.

Your eyes are closed, when Eunseok separates from your lips you immediately catch them between your teeth. He sees your desperate nod clearly, and your hand wraps in his hair to push his face right back in the crook of your neck. Eunseok’s hand is stuck between your two bodies, flicking across your clit as you shiver underneath him. He can’t see your face as you moan pathetically, barely letting him know that you’re cumming before it’s too late. When he tries to pull out your leg hooks around his waist, keeping him inside of you. He pants against your flushed skin and burrows deeper into you as relief washes over him. 

He is collapsed on top of you when he hears the television again. The sound of you groaning underneath him pulls Eunseok back to reality, and his phone going off in his jacket pocket makes him look at the broken clock on the wall. He wishes your hands were still pressed into his back to keep him unbelievably close to you. They fell to your side at some point, and when Eunseok looks down at you, your eyes are open. He sees glassy surface and the tears dotting your water line so clearly. 

“You have to go to Japan.” You say it clearly, but Eunseok feels like it’s a question. Like he could just say nevermind and stay here with you.

“I’ll be back.” He says, still resting on top of you.

“In a year.” 

“Okinawa is a tourist destination.” 

[aliceinborderlandsquidgame]

♧ Xmas Times ♧ Various AIB!Boys x GN!Reader

AU: No-Borderlands - Established Relationships with all of them - SFW - Banda is still red flag - grammar mistakes -

ARISU

Soft boy! He loves this month. Not only because he gets an excuse to buy new lights and re decorate him room and gaming room. He actually decorates the whole aparment.

"Its never too early too set up the tree" Him probably

If you two are living together its going to be a hell of a month in the good way. Arisu LOVES IT. He is going to look out for different activities around the city and take you there. Try the new sweets and even go and buy matching sweaters and socks.

Loves to cuddle with you on the sofa while drinking hot cocoa, corny films ? Yes. Hell yes. He is all up for them even if he knows the ending.

MISTOLETE KISS!! Uses any chance to get you both under one and kiss you. Depends on his mood where he is going to kiss you but nose and lips are his firsts options.

CHISHIYA

This Man never cared over festivities and would actually to and take the xmas turn at the hospital to keep himself away from it.

Quiet insensitive about it and sees it most like a way of corporations to get money.

Plus he never got to experience a good xmas with his family..

Its up to you to take on the decorations and xmas mood!! He Will let you do whatever you want with the aparment as long as it does not touches his home office.

If you two prefer to mostly ignore it then its just another month. But Chishiya Will take xmas off and stay with you.

Gets you a big suprise present and when you do the same for him, he tries his best just how happy he is.

NIRAGI

Maybe you never imagine this, but he loves this month. During his childhood him and his mother would have the best of times setting up the tree and getting decorations, making cookies and singing xmas songs.

So yes, he expects quiet the same now that he is with you.

Like Arisu, he uses this time to buy more lights, the house looks like a dance place during night. Because he cant settle down for one color.

Will make you a cute interactive game that ends with "Happy Xmas, I love you"

Now wont admit it, but please cuddle him. Specially on cold mornings, he loves the natural heat more than having the califaction going on.

Kisses your head all the time and gets you a scarf tras too big For you. He thinks you look adorable.

TATTA

Another soft boy who has no idea what to do. If he is honest he cant really recall a special memory of xmas so he is lost and doing the standar things.

Totally checks the internet to see whats he is supposed to do.

Gets you tons of presents (five at least) because he feels like he is not at home a lot since his work gets more demanding during this month.

Get him a toy car with a controlled and he is the happyest guy alive.

Does not waste a chance on kissing you. Does not care if its on public or at home. Because to him its not only xmas but love season as well!!

BANDA SUNATO

He likes it because red blood goes amazing with white snow.

Really. The only time he leaves the city and goes to the countryside to hunt down peopel in the woods.

Does not care much for presents or decorations.

Just get him a New knife and he is happy, let him use it on you and its even better.

KARUBE

Man he is burned out with his bar. This month is demanding for him. Gets home late and tired. If you caress his hair and tell him sweet nothings he becomes a puppy.

Asks you to help him out decorating the bar (and Arisu) it ends looking amazing and then you make a personal competition to make your aparment with him look even better.

Is amazed how you managed to over due yourself.

Get him hawaii shirts please. Even if its no the time for it. He loves them and hates snow clothes.

The most kisser one.

You bet he adds mistelotes at home and at the bar. And is so ready to jump over you at any moment.

AGUNI

Asks you to help him decorate his flower shop but not too much cause he is worried the flowers Will suffer.

Sings xmas songs softly when he thinks you are not near (you are, you recorder him).

The xmas tree looks healthy and Aguni its so proud of how it looks he cant stop taking pictures of it.

Gets all flustered when you give him presents during the month. And wonders how did you get such a comfortable sweater for him ? Since he is all muscles?

Well he doubles it getting you a big Teddy bear.

[bumblesimagines]

you have no reason to worry.

did you two have a nice chat?

Alicent Hightower

Pronouns: He/Him/His, M!Reader

CW/TW: None really

Happy holidays y'all!

Envy was a feeling Alicent had been long aquatinted with. Her girlhood had been full of it, especially after the death of her mother and subsequent betrothal to the king after Lady Aemma's tragic passing.  She always swallowed it down, forced it away into the depths of her mind where it'd inevitably rear its ugly head again in an unsuspecting moment. But as much as she tried willing it away this time, it lingered, filling her mouth with bitterness as she stared down at the training yard below. 

Her nails scraped against the rough texture of the stone railing, her gaze wholly fixated on the knight dividing his attention between the sparring lordlings and the keen lady at his side. The Lady Brinna Wylde was young and beautiful, with golden hair cascading down her back and eyes so pale they nearly looked gray. She was of a gentler disposition and exceptional at needlework thus making her one of the more tolerable ladies of the keep. Alicent had little issue with her apart from the fact she was eligible and rather taken with Ser (Y/N), evident by how she lingered around him with a meek smile. 

There was little reason for her to be opposed to the match, in fact, she should've been encouraging the idea of a wedding to lift the somber mood that so often enveloped the Keep. But Alicent hardly believed herself capable of urging Ser (Y/N) to wed another, to deprive herself of the attention and care he so often bestowed upon her. Guilt crept up in her stomach frequently, especially when she tended to her husband who languished away in his bedchambers with the flesh-rotting disease he'd developed over the past years. She'd never allow herself to stoop low enough to step outside of her marriage, let alone commit the act of treason, but his light flirting and soothing words were enough for her. 

Until now, she supposed as she curled her fingers inward when Ser (Y/N) took Lady Brinna's hand into his and ghosted his lips over her knuckles. "Ser Criston," Alicent glanced over her shoulder at the knight, his dark eyes immediately darting toward her questioningly. "What have you heard of Lord Tyland and his search to find a wife?"

"The Lannister name may be the only thing granting him any attention, Your Grace. I do not indulge in court gossip but it appears he is not doing.. quite well." A hint of amusement seeped into Ser Criston's voice. While the Lannister twins were dashing young men, Lord Jason proved to be the more confident of the two but he'd already received Johanna Westerling's hand in marriage.

"His kindness would suit Lady Brinna, don't you think?"

Ser Criston's lips pressed together, briefly peering down at the courtyard. "Would she not suit Ser (Y/N), Your Grace?"

"Ser Tyland has been keen on finding a wife for some time, Ser Criston. When Ser (Y/N) makes his desire for a bride known, a match can be arranged." Alicent responded swiftly, sparing him another glance before she peeled herself away from the railing and made her way toward the stairs, carefully clutching her skirts so as to not trip on them. "We have not hosted a wedding in many moons. It may lift spirits to bring House Wylde and House Lannister together." 

"I'm certain Ironrod and Ser Tyland will be forever grateful, Your Grace." 

With her head lifted high, she barely looked in the direction of the servants and courtiers who bowed as she stepped past them. It felt as if with each passing day she and her father ruled in King Visery's stead, she garnered more respect from those around her. She doubted those living on Dragonstone felt similarly but none of them had bothered to visit the ill man in recent times, much less contested their joint rule. Rhaenyra would have a hard time ruling without the respect and loyalty of King's Landing residents. 

"My Queen," Ser (Y/N) smiled upon seeing her, lowering his head and bidding Lady Brinna farewell when she bowed and stepped away. 

"Did you two have a nice chat?" Alicent questioned, her head tilting ever so slightly to the side. 

Ser (Y/N)'s smile turned into an amused grin. "Ah, you have no reason to worry, Your Grace. Lady Brinna is beautiful but I've never been keen on blondes."

Alicent fought against the way the corners of her lips threatened to move upward. "That's good, then. In due time, she'll be wed to Tyland Lannister once I arrange their match. They will make a handsome couple, won't they?"

"Indeed, Your Grace. Indeed."

[iwritefandomimagines]

TREEHOUSE — JESS MARIANO

masterlist

pairing: jess mariano x reader

description: you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy jess’ flirty teasing. he’d be lying if he said that you didn’t make him uncharacteristically mushy.

warnings: swearing n fluff!!!, that’s all folks

author’s note: ok so i caved and started rewatching GG already — i had this idea and had to run with it! let me know what u think x

“Wow Y/N, we have got to stop bumping into each other like this!”

You looked up, rolling your eyes at the smirking boy before you as you placed down your book, “Oh yes,” you quipped sarcastically, “Such a shock to see you at your uncle’s diner that you live above and work at. Bonus points for you literally choosing to come over to my table, by the way. Usually you save our tantalising small talk for when I come to the counter for a drink.”

This only emboldened his smirk, and he glanced back to see Luke quirking his brow at his usual game — he always distracted himself from helping out by busying himself with talking to you.

In seconds he’d sat himself down in the empty chair opposite you, leaning on your closed book and staring so intently into your eyes you felt your heartbeat quicken immensely.

“What do you want, Mariano?”

“Ouch, last name?” he pouted, “And here I thought we were friends.”

Your heart was racing at how close to you he seemed to be, but his assertion of your supposed ‘friendship’ dulled this a little.

It infuriated you that he spent so much time flirting, and then every other moment acting like his having any romantic interest in you was a ridiculous suggestion.

“Friends, hm?”

In all the time he’d been loitering around, lending you books, stealing your books, making you coffee and all-round just finding any reason to be near you, Jess had never been certain his attraction to you was reciprocated either.

You’d started out shy, unsure of why the hell he seemed so struck with talking to you when he appeared so disdainful of everyone else in Stars Hollow.

And then you’d warmed to him, you’d opened up, you’d spent evenings as the only two people in Luke’s — just talking for hours on end — only to the next day seem distant again.

He’d tried to reassure himself that you did like him too, and that you were just shy, but something always stopped him from passing the boundaries of friendship beyond flirtatious remarks.

“Am I being relegated to an acquaintance?” he placed a hand over his heart and screwed up his face like he was going to cry, before relaxing it and smirking once more, “Or is your inquisitive tone your way of hinting at your undying love for me?”

“Shut up,” you shoved his arm gently, watching him feign a gasp, “You’re a pain in the ass, you know that right?”

Jess scooted his chair even closer to the table, “I totally thought that was your favourite quality of mine. My mistake!”

You didn’t reply for a moment, challenging him with eye contact and feeling your chest tighten at the way he seemed to match the intensity.

“What’re you doing tonight?”

This was new — he normally just hinted at caring what you were up to, nudged for you to give away whether you were seeing anyone, and danced around flirting just enough that he could deny it if you called him out on it.

You gestured to the book he’d made himself comfortable on, “A riveting night of draining your establishment of coffee ‘til you close, finishing this book and then probably either starting another or binging some shitty tv.”

It was only now that he looked at the book he was leaning on, clocking that it was Ham on Rye and he was the one who’d lent it to you when you’d expressed a desire to read more Bukowski.

“How’re you finding it?”

“Oh, and apparently starting the Jess and Y/N book club,” you teased, “Yeah, I’m enjoying. Thank you again for letting me borrow it.”

He smiled, “Anytime. Want me to leave you alone ‘til you’re done with it?”

You pondered his question for a moment. You didn’t want him to go anywhere, but weren’t quite sure if you should suppress your eagerness for his company.

“No, no,” you bit your lip, “Its alright. Does—,” you almost asked if Luke needed him, in the hopes that he’d say no and you could ask him if he wanted to get out of there. Almost.

“Does… what?”

“Nothing, never mind,” you shook your head, blushing crimson at how closely he watched your every move, “Its quiet in here tonight.”

He shrugged, “I was hoping you’d ask if I wanted to get out of here, because Luke definitely doesn’t need me when it’s this dead.”

You smirked, “Is this you asking me to get out of here?”

“Maybe.”

“Cool.”

“Cool?”

“Yes, Jess, cool. Let’s go somewhere else,” you grinned, pulling your book from beneath his elbow slowly and watching him roll his eyes at your teasing smile as you did so, “I was going to ask that. Didn’t want to seem too eager and boost your ego.”

He feigned insult again, “Ego? What ego?!”

He rose to his feet as you packed your book into your bag, gesturing that he was going to go and tell Luke he was leaving and quickly sauntering over to the counter, where you just about overheard Luke mumble, “Finally asked then?”

That made your stomach swarm with butterflies — this was really happening.

All this time, and things were finally progressing.

Jess briefly disappeared behind the counter, before re-emerging with his jacket and opening the door to the diner for you to lead the way out.

“Where’d ya wanna go?” you asked, your voice quiet as you suddenly felt anxious about being so close to him.

Your feelings for Jess had been growing steadily for so long now, bubbling under the surface, and now you finally had an inkling he actually liked you too you didn’t know what to do with yourself.

He shrugged again, looking down at his feet with his hands stuffed in his pockets as he ambled through Stars Hollow at your side.

“We can just walk,” you hummed, “Or we can go to mine. I’ve, uh, got a treehouse out back that my dad built when I was a kid. Or not if that’s a really fucking lame suggestion.”

He kicked a stone at his feet, “No, that sounds good. Totally lame. But good.”

That pleased you enough to elicit a small hum from your lips, and you found yourself walking a little closer to him as you led the way to your house, “Good. Follow me then.”

When you arrived at your house it was empty as ever — the reason you spent so much time at Luke’s was the rarity of company at your own home given your parents’ busy work lives.

You grabbed a few drinks from the fridge, some snacks from the cupboard, and then led the way out back to the treehouse, which was lit with fairy lights and adorned inside with band posters and shelves of books.

“I’ll give it to you, Y/N, it’s less lame than expected,” Jess nudged your side as you crawled in and slumped down on the mattress in the corner of the room, scoffing at him, “I feel honoured to have the Jess Mariano’s approval.”

“Should I feel privileged to be up here?” he licked his lips, eyes glancing over at the torn “NO BOYS ALLOWED” sign discarded at the edge of the tree house too, “Or does the sad state of the sign suggest I’m one of many exceptions?”

You rolled your eyes, “If you’re jealous that other boys may have been up here, you can just say that, Jess. But you should feel privileged because you’re the first. In fact, I can’t believe I didn’t even think twice about bringing you up here.”

He seemed to like that, his eyes glimmering as they darted between your lips and your eyes repeatedly while he found the words to respond.

“I’d say that means you like me, Y/N,” his voice was barely above a whisper as he spoke, and your close proximity left you shuddering as his breath fanned over your face, “Can’t say I blame you.”

His shit-eating grin made you roll your eyes for the millionth time tonight, “Here I was about to say maybe you were right. Thanks for snapping me out of it, shithead. I don’t like you nearly as much as you like yourself, huh.”

He just stared at you for a moment, eyes still twinkling and his breathing jagged.

“Funny, except I don’t think that’s true,” his head dipped to kiss you now, capturing your lips at first tentatively and then with increasing pressure as you kissed back.

He pulled back for a second, half smirking and half dazed, “Yep, I’d say you definitely like me.”

“Says the one who initiated the kiss,” you challenged, “And has been flirting with me incessantly since, like, the moment we met.”

He raised his eyebrow, “Oh is that so?”

“Are you denying it?”

“Oh no, I’ve definitely been flirting,” he licked his lips once more, desperate to kiss you again but trying to refrain for now, “It’s just funny that you’re only calling me out on it now.”

You gently shoved him and poked out your tongue, “I can kick you out of my treehouse whenever I want, you know.”

He only leaned closer again, “But you’re not gonna, are you?”

Jesus Christ you’d not been prepared for the palpitations in your chest right now. Your heart thrummed against your rib cage, drunk on the feelings that had only gotten stronger tonight.

“It’s your lucky day.”

You kissed him again, and the arm he wasn’t propped up on scooped around your waist to pull you closer and deepen the kiss, “Yeah, I guess it is.”

You stayed like this for god knows how long, joking around in between kisses and getting more and more comfortable in each other’s company, until he sat up abruptly and furrowed his brows.

“What’s wrong? Filled your kiss quota for the night and ready to leave or something?” you smiled, tongue in cheek, and he chuckled.

“Oh no, never. Just figured as much as I’d like to just kiss you, we should probably talk,” it was unlike Jess to look as nervous as he did right now.

In the time that had passed this evening, you’d grown comfortable enough to help him out a little here.

“I really like you, Jess.”

He wasn’t expecting that — you could tell from his wide eyes and open mouth, which he swiftly shut when he realised he was slack-jawed and silent.

He reached out to take your hand in his, fingers twiddling with yours, “You do? That’s, uh, good. ‘Cause I really like you too, Y/N.”

You couldn’t help the little joyous giggle that escaped your lips, and he couldn’t help the warmth that spread through him at the sound of it, “D’you want to stay over tonight? We can sleep in here?”

He kissed your nose, relaxing back into his reclined position again, “If you’re sure… I’d like that.”

“‘Mm, c’mon then,“ you cuddled in a little closer to him, suddenly overcome with tiredness from the evenings events, “…’m sleepy.”

He smiled, a broader smile than he was sure he’d ever smiled before, happy you were finally this close to him. He dipped his head to kiss your forehead, interlocking your hands as you got comfortable on his chest.

“G’night beautiful,” he whispered, and you could hear his heart thrumming in his chest. You couldn’t believe you’d found this side of Jess Mariano. And you weren’t going to get over that joy any time soon.

“Night Jess,” you hummed, already half asleep, “You better be here when I wake up.”

“Oh I will, Y/N, I’m not going anywhere.”

———

ahhHhHhh i hope you enjoyed this !!! please feel free to make some requests if you’d like, or just let me know what you think! i’ve been in such a writer’s block funk lately — but hopefully i’m back now!

here is my masterlist if you’d like to read more of my works!

[janeyseymour]

All I Ask

Loosely based off of two prompts: one where R asks Mel to hold her as more than just a friend the night before Mel goes on a first date, and another where both R and Mel are set up on blind dates (requested by @gwennybriggs)... enjoy.

WC: ~4.15k

One thing about Barbara Howard is that she loves to play match maker.

“All I’m saying, Melissa, is maybe it’s time to get yourself back out there!” Barbara antagonizes her best friend once again during a lunch period. The kindergarten teacher looks to you with a small smirk. She knows of your feelings for a certain redhead sitting in between the two of you, and she’s hoping that the second grade teacher will just take the damned hint. The kindergarten teacher also knows of the feelings that Melissa harbors for you. 

“And all I’m sayin’, Barbara,” Melissa says that name with a pointed tone. “Is that I don’t need no one in my life to ‘complete’ me, or whatever bullshit you wanna tell me being in love does.”

“Melissa, it’s been two years since you broke it off with Gary. Don’t you think it’s time to get yourself back out there? Just maybe?”

“I don’t need nobody- not when I have a happy life as it is.”

That is the end of the conversation for the time being, but then Melissa starts to think it over. Maybe what Barbara is saying is true- it’s been a while. And she does miss having someone to fall asleep with at night. Although… whenever you come over, the two of you end up curled up on the couch together, and occasionally you will spend the night in her bed with her.

It’s platonic. It’s just friends being friends. At least that’s what Melissa tells herself. That’s what you tell yourself too when you lay in bed with her at night and wonder if maybe, just maybe, this is something more. 

So the next time you’re over, Melissa asks you about it.

“What do you think about what Barb was saying the other day at school? About… finding love and all that shit?” the redhead asks you as her head lays in your lap.

You stiffen slightly, not sure if this is your chance to say anything. Green eyes look up to meet your own, trying to figure out your thoughts.

“I mean, I think it might be good for you,” you shrug softly.

“Well,” she says as she sits up to look at you more intensely. “What about for you? Miss eternally single?”

The reason you’ve been single as long as you have been is because of your feelings for the redhead, not that she knows it. You shrug your shoulders ever so slightly, letting her know that you have hesitations in your answer. “I guess maybe I could consider going out on a date or something.”

So the next day at school, during lunch, love lives are the topic of the staff room.

“I was thinking… what if we set you up with someone I know?” Barbara asks. “C’mon, you know I would pick someone good for you.”

Melissa sighs a great breath. “Will it get you off my back if I say yes?” At the kindergarten teacher’s nod, the redhead swallows harshly before, “Fine.”

“Oh, how wonderful. I know just who I should set you up with!”

“You know, Y/N and I were talkin’ last night, and she’s thinkin’ ‘bout getting back into the dating game too. You know of anyone to set her up with, Lowercase?” Melissa asks.

Janine’s eyes brighten, and you can swear you see them almost start to sparkle at the idea of getting to play match maker for you. “I do!”

“Oi,” you roll your eyes and shake your head. You elbow the second grade teacher sitting next to you gently. “Way to throw me under the bus.”

“If I gotta do it, so d’you.”

As you and the redheaded second grade teacher head out a few minutes early to use the restroom before picking up your kids from lunch, Barbara whips around to look at Janine and the rest of the group.

“I’m going to say something, and what I say must be kept between those of us in this room,” the veteran teacher says seriously. “That means nobody will tell Melissa or Y/N.”

“Barb, how am I supposed to not tell them?” Jacob asks incredulously.

Barbara stares him down intensely. “If you cannot vow to not say a word to your roommate about this, then you may leave.”

The social studies teacher’s hands raise in surrender, and he urges her silently to continue.

“You’ve all noticed the way those two are always together, and Y/N has stolen my work wife, yes?”

She’s met with a chorus of affirmations as well as head nods. Jacob puts in that you’re almost always over, and that occasionally you end up spending the night after a glass too many.

“I’ve had about enough of this tiptoeing around that those two love sick fools are doing,” Barbara rolls her eyes. “So, I am going to pretend to send Melissa up with one of my friends. Janine, you will set up Y/N with one of your friends. And we all ensure together that the two of them end up in the same place at the same time without them finding out that they will be showing up to the same date, yes?”

“Oh my god!” Jacob grins and claps his hands together in excitement. “We all get to play match maker!”

“Do you see now why we mustn’t speak a word of this to Melissa or Y/N?” Barbara looks at the excited man pointedly.

He gives a serious nod.

That day, Barbara gives a talking head to the camera men. Janine joins her. 

“When Barbara Howard wants something, Barbara Howard gets that thing,” the kindergarten teacher states. “And what Barbara Howard wants now more than anything is for those two to get their heads out of their asses. The two of them… flirting harder than Janine and Gregory were before they finally pulled their acts together.”

“Hey!” Janine gasps. “Did I only get pulled into this interview to get insulted?”

The veteran teacher just gives her a knowing look and a pat on the shoulder.

The next day, Barbara comes in with a pep in her step as she knows that her plan will soon be put into place.

“What has you in such a chipper mood?” Melissa asks as she pours herself and you a cup of coffee before the kids come in. The redhead places your cup where she knows you’ll end up once you show up for the day.

The kindergarten teacher looks to Janine, who is sitting very quietly (for once), before grinning. “I found the perfect person for you to go out on a date with.”

“Oh?”

“A friend of mine,” is all Barb offers up. “So, you have a date at six tomorrow night at The Dandelion.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Would you rather I change it to tonight?”

A blush creeps into the second grade teacher’s cheeks. “No. No thank you.”

It’s only a few minutes later that you walk into the room, cheeks flushed from the cool air outside. 

“Hey,” Melissa smiles softly at you. She juts her chin out in the direction of your steaming hot cup of coffee. “Made it for you already.”

“You’re a lifesaver,” you grin as you go to put your lunch in the refrigerator. “I think I’m going to need it today.”

“Well,” the second grade teacher chuckles as you sit down next to her. “If you need another cup, you know you can always ask me to grab you another.”

You lay a gentle hand on her knee and squeeze it affectionately. “You’re the best.”

Mr. Johnson smirks at the camera.

Because the group has conspired to set the two of you up unknowingly to you and Melissa, no one speaks of the redhead’s date at lunch- much to her surprise. Melissa will take it though- not having to deal with the crew on her back about it.

“You comin’ back to my place today?” the second grade teacher asks as you’re packing up your lunch.

You nod with a small smile as you nudge her affectionately. “I’ll bring the wine?”

“Should I bring enough for Jacob too?”

“I will be out with a new man, so no need,” the social studies teacher cuts into your conversation. “Hopefully, this one works out.”

So, you and your coworker end up on the couch together after a long day with a delicious meal and a rather full glass of wine in front of each of you.

“So, anything interesting happen at school today for you?” you ask as you lay your head down in the redhead’s lap.

Melissa hums softly before sighing. “Barb is setting me up with her friend. I have a date tomorrow.”

Your eyes widen ever so slightly. “Oh?”

She shrugs, trying to gauge how you feel about that. And thankfully, you’re able to mask your true emotions on the matter. “That’s nice. It seems like everyone is starting to put themselves out there lately.”

“I’m sure Janine will find someone for you soon enough,” the redhead tells you. “You’re a catch, and someone is bound to see that sooner or later.”

You grimace. You’re not so sure about that. And even if you were, you only want one person, and it’s becoming more and more clear to you that you’ll never have your chance with her. So, in that moment, you decide that starting tomorrow maybe you need to start distancing yourself from Melissa in order to get over this silly crush you have on her. You have to get yourself back out there without her constantly lingering in the back of your mind.

“Hun,” she thinks she’s reading you like a book. “C’mon, you’re a great woman. Anyone with eyes can see that you’re beautiful, and then when you let your personality shine through… you’re the real-”

You shake your head as you sit up. “Can we just… not talk about this right now? I just want to enjoy tonight with you… savor our time alone while I can before someone swoops in and steals you from me.”

Green eyes meet yours, filled with a pleading look to just drop the matter of the conversation. It’s clear to you that she wants to continue to try to boost your confidence and build you up, but she relents. “So, did anything interesting happen at school with you today?”

After polishing off the bottle of wine that you brought over, Melissa ends up bringing out a second bottle. You hate to admit that you perhaps have a few too many glasses just because you’re trying to drown out your sorrows about not ever being able to tell the woman next to you how you feel and that this is probably the last night you’ll have with her where things are exactly the way they are now.

“C’mon, hun,” Melissa nudges you gently after your head has hit her shoulder for the fourth time that night. “Let’s just head to bed.”

You nod against her shoulder sleepily, but you make no moves to get up.

“Y/N,” the redhead nudges you again. “C’mon.”

“I’m comfortable here,” you yawn out. “You’re comfortable.”

“I can be comfortable up in my bed too,” Melissa retorts with a small laugh. “I can’t sleep on a couch anymore, so c’mon.”

You let out a small whine but disentangle yourself from her own limbs before looking at her with a pout.

“Trust me,” your coworker sighs as she sets a hand on the small of your back to guide you up the steps. “You being grumpy and getting up for a proper night’s sleep is much better than me being a bitch tomorrow because I woke up sore after a night of sleeping on the couch.”

You nod your head begrudgingly. The two of you crawl into bed as you usually do- both having respective sides. A chill rushes through you as the wine drunkenness begins to wear off and your met with the cool sensation of Melissa’s fan running in her bedroom.

“You cold?” the redhead asks as she lifts an arm for you to scoot under.

You nod as you shimmy into her space with a soft smile. Her arm wraps around you and pulls you even closer.

In a rather bold move, instead of laying your head on her shoulder, you turn to face her with a sad smile.

“What’s wrong?” Melissa asks you. “Are you still cold? Should I get extra blankets?”

You shake your head. “I just… things are going to change if all goes well with you and this man Barb’s setting you up with, and if Janine ever finds someone for me.”

Melissa just hums. She’s not quite sure what to say to you about this. What you’re saying is true, and it’s becoming clear to her that you aren’t necessarily thrilled with that. If she’s being honest with herself, she isn’t too fond of the idea of things changing between the two of you either.

“And… I know it’s dumb, and I know that we aren’t together, but I like what we have,” you mumble.

“I do too, hun,” Melissa squeezes your hand gently.

“Can we just… pretend for tonight?”

“What do you mean?” Green eyes look at you curiously.

“Pretend that we’re not scared of what’s coming next, or scared of having nothing left?” You quote Adele’s lyrics unknowingly. “Like… if this is my last night with you, where everything is how it usually is, can you hold me like I’m more than just a friend?” You know you’re still drunk, or at least somewhat intoxicated. If Melissa shoots you down, you can blame the alcohol. And if she doesn’t, tomorrow you can excuse your question with the alcohol too. What do you really have to lose? Not much, if you’re being honest with yourself.

The way that she pulls you close to her and wraps her arms around your waist simultaneously makes your heart grow three sizes and break. What is happening feels so right, but you know that this is only one time. It won’t ever happen again. You feel warm lips against your neck, and you inhale deeply. Why can’t this dream of yours be a reality?

As the redhead beside you gently nips at your neck, just once, she too has feelings of regret. Why is it that she only wants you right now?

The two of you fall asleep dreaming about the same thing- a life together. 

You wake first, and the feeling of still being in Melissa’s arms has you practically swooning. If anything, throughout the night, she held onto you tighter than she had while awake. It’s warm and domestic, and you can smell the perfume she was wearing last night as it surrounds and intoxicates you.

You lay there in a peaceful bliss until her alarm starts going off. She wakes with a small jolt before her eyes peel open, and you’re met with her sparkling eyes.

“Hey, hun,” Melissa smiles at you. “You sleep off all that wine last night?”

You roll your eyes playfully as you prepare to pull yourself away from her- as much as you don’t want to. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Hungover at all?”

You shake your head, only to sheepishly start nodding before rolling away from her. “My head is pounding.”

“Well, you know where the advil is,” the second grade teacher chuckles as she starts to sit up. “And I’ll make us breakfast and coffee, so hopefully the hangover lessens.”

As you get ready, neither of you speak of the events that happened last night. You quietly note that you’re surprised Jacob didn’t make his way back to the apartment last night, but that’s really all the two of you talk about. And then you’re off to Abbott in your car, while she follows behind in her own.

At school, you don’t settle in next to the redhead like you usually would for the morning news. Instead, you make up a lame excuse about having to do work in your classroom. You don’t even take the offered second cup of coffee from your coworker. You have to start distancing yourself if you’re going to survive working at her while she starts dating again.

During lunch, you make your way into the staff room quietly and grab your meal from the refrigerator before trying to make your way out relatively unnoticed. It doesn’t work. Of course, Melissa wants you to sit with her like you usually do.

“I- I think I need some peace and quiet,” you offer meekly. “But thanks.”

You’re out the door by the time Melissa is huffing about your actions. “Girl damn near lost her mind, I swear.”

It’s towards the end of the day when Janine approaches you.

“Janine, I really can’t today if you’re going to try to rope me into ‘saving the school’ again,” you sigh as you begin to gather your things in your arms. 

“It’s nothing like that,” the energetic woman tells you quickly. “I’ve been trying to get ahold of you all day.”

“Didn’t really look at my phone today,” you grumble.

“Well, I wish you would’ve. I know you have nothing to do after school today, so… my friend got back to me. You have a date tonight.”

“I’m not going on a-”

“Yes, you are,” Janine tells you in a strict, out of character, tone. “Be at The Dandelion at six.”

“Janine,” you groan. “I just want to-”

“You’ll be at The Dandelion, or my friend is going to be really pissed with me. Please.”

“Why should I?”

“Because,” the short woman struggles to come up with an answer on the fly. “Because you’ve been single for so long, and with everyone else getting back out there again… it might be good for you. C’mon, just one date. That’s all my friend is asking for- and then… if you don’t like it, you don’t have to do it again.”

“Fine.”

Janine squeals happily. “My friend will be in a green shirt tonight, so keep an eye out.” The second grade teacher knows what Melissa will be wearing because that was the topic of the staff room today at lunch, which you were not at.

You’re absolutely dreading this. You do not want to be at The Dandelion to go on a date with one of Janine’s friends. And yet, you still find yourself changing into a pair of jeans and a nicer shirt to go to dinner.

Upon your arrival, you survey the area, only to discover that you’re there before your mystery person in green. You find a seat at the bar and sigh, ordering a glass of wine.

About five minutes later, you see someone in green walk in, but they look oddly familiar. It- It’s Melissa. Fuck. She too surveys the area, clearly looking for her date. The redhead has no such luck, but she does lock eyes with you and give a small wave before making her way over.

“What are you doing here?” she asks quietly. “Come to spy on my date?”

You take a sip of your wine. “Actually, Janine set me up on a date, but they aren’t here yet.”

Melissa hums indifferently. “Neither is my date. What do you say we just wait together here?”

Not necessarily knowing how to reject her offer, you nod and pull out the stool next to you for her to sit on. She too orders a glass of wine, and once she’s served, she looks at you.

“So, we gonna talk about why you pulled away from all of us today at school?”

You blow out a breath. “I had some things to do in my classroom.” You can tell those green eyes boring into your soul don’t believe you, so you attempt to change the subject. “How were the kids today for you?”

By 6:25, neither of your dates have shown. The two of you are sitting together quietly nursing your wine and still looking around.

When the time hits 6:30, you sigh. “Do you think they’re going to show?”

The redhead glances down at her watch. “Half an hour late, and still not here? I doubt it.”

“What the fuck?” you groan. “I’m going to kill Janine.”

“Barb ain’t gettin any of my meatballs any time soon,” your coworker grumbles as she pulls out her phone.

You dial Janine, fully intending on giving her a piece of your mind. She picks up after two rings.

“Hey! How’s it going?” she answers as cheerily as she always does.

“Your stupid friend never showed up,” you grit out.

You can practically see the face Janine makes as she gasps out a, “What? No, they did!”

“No they didn’t!” you hiss into the phone. “I’ve been sitting here for the last half an hour waiting for someone in green to show up, and no one has!”

“No, my friend definitely showed up, I know it.”

At the same time, Melissa is on the phone with Barbara.

“Barb, your friend never showed! I’ve been sitting here with Y/N for the last half hour waiting.”

“My friend definitely did show,” Barbara’s voice is calm and steady as always.

It takes the two of you a few seconds to let their words sink in before you realize you’ve been played.

“You set us up,” both you and Melissa hiss into the phones at the same time.

Only then do both of your coworker step out of a booth with smiles on their faces. “Maybe.” They both hang up, wave to you with shit eating grins, and then head out of the restaurant together. 

Slowly, you turn to Melissa with wide eyes. She does the same.

“So, you’re my date?” she asks you.

“You’re mine?” you stammer out. “But I-”

“Those two are going to get it tomorrow.”

You let out a nervous chuckle as you tuck a few locks of hair behind your ear. “Yeah. They are.”

“Well,” the redhead sighs. “I guess we should get a table and have dinner.”

“You- you want to go on this date with me?” you fumble over your words. At her nod, you blush, but the smile that washes over your face is genuine and radiant.

Dinner is nice- it’s… it’s different than the other meals the two of you have shared in the past though. Conversation flows easily between the two of you as it usually does, before she takes a deep breath.

“Y/N, we should… we should talk about this.”

Her tone tells you that she’s not interested in the slightest, and you grimace. “I can just… I can just go.” You go to grab your handbag, but a hand stops you as fingers wrap around your wrist.

“I didn’t mean that,” she rolls her eyes. She tugs you in close, and her lips meet yours softly for the first time.

Your eyes go wide as you realize that the woman of your dreams is sitting here kissing you before you reciprocate. And… wow. 

“Y-you-” you stammer out once you’ve pulled away.

She just chuckles and kisses you again. Mumbled against your lips are the words, “I’m glad you’re my date, and not someone else.”

All you can do is smile. Once you pull away, you tell her, “I am too. I was not looking forward to going out with one of Janine’s friends.”

“I mean,” Melissa nudges you. “You kind of are going out with one of her friend’s right now.”

You shrug. “I guess she didn’t lie when she told me I was meeting her friend. I just… didn’t expect it to be you.”

“I didn’t expect you to be Barb’s friend either, hun,” your coworker teases you.

That night, you end up back at her place, and unlike last night where the two of you were just pretending to hold and be held as more than just a friend, it’s real. You are more than friend’s now- doing what lovers do. It’s soft, it’s sweet, it’s domestic, it’s warm… it’s everything you could’ve dreamed of when it comes to Melissa.

Your hand is laced in hers as you walk into the staff room the next morning, and Barbara and Janine look rather content with the charade that they had pulled off the night before. It’s clear to you that the others are aware of the situation before them, as Jacob can only grin and fist pump somewhat discretely.

“You still ain’t getting my meatballs anytime soon,” Melissa grumbles at her work wife as she makes her way over to the coffee machine.

“Well worth it, Melissa dear,” the kindergarten teacher chuckles into her own mug. “Well worth it if it means that the two of you finally got your heads out of your asses and are together.”

TAGS: (and let me know if you want to be included!): @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @a-queen-and-her-throne @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld @cosmichymns @sasheemo @m1lflov3rrr @ricejucie

[writeroutoftime]

women run the world

pairing: anthony bridgerton x fem!reader (requested by: anon)

summary: after comforting eloise about a woman's lack to education, anthony makes a less than ideal comment that does not end well for him

warnings: none besides anthony's stupidity

words: 1.1k

a/n: another request from forever ago, but it is finally seeing the light of day! anyway, we love anthony, but sometimes he doesn't always think before he speaks, also this GIF just made me laugh and I thought it fit well with this fic lol. this was a lot of fun to write, so I hope you that you enjoy it! as always, please let me know what you think, and have a fantastic day!

oOoOo

Dearest Reader, Even within the most ideal love match our society has to offer, there is always the possibility for miscommunication - as was the case between one Lord and Lady y/n Bridgerton. However, this author has discovered that Lady Bridgerton has set the record straight for Lord Bridgerton, and for that, she has my sincerest gratitude. Lady Whistledown's Society Papers

Eloise slammed her book shut, groaning in frustration, which pulled you and the other Bridgertons from their own little bubbles.

"Whatever is the matter, Eloise?" Daphne asked calmly, looking up from her newest arrangement on the harpsicord.

With a dry chuckle, Eloise opened her mouth. "Why is it that the men in this country are afforded every opportunity for education, yet so many of them squander it when there are countless women dying for a chance to continue their education? I mean, what do I have to do for a chance to go to university?" she ranted.

"We live in a time where those in charge have small minds, and are fearful of what women could do if given the chance to achieve more." you offered gently, knowing the reasoning would do little to soothe her anger. "I happen to think you would thrive at university, and I know you could show everyone that us women are just as equal as men."

Before Eloise could offer her thanks, an almost indistinguishable chuckle came from the chair next to you. Your head immediately whipped to the side, eyes directly on your husband as he continued to read his newspaper.

"Was there something amusing that I said?" you dared to ask, voice low and spine stiff.

Anthony folded his paper before looking back at you. A whisper of a smile still on his lips. "I simply find the thought of women at university alongside men an outlandish thought." he began. "Do you not think women would already be allowed in if there was this equality between the sexes? I mean there are distinct physical differences, so it goes to reason that there would be differences in other areas as well."

The moment the words left his lips, the entire room went silent, and all seven other heads in the room snapped towards Anthony in varying degrees of shock. The women looked appalled at the words their brother had spoken while Colin and Benedict (and even young Gregory) shook their heads, knowing Anthony was in for it.

It was no secret to the Bridgerton family, nor to the ton, that you held rather "revolutionary" ideas about women's equality and place in society. At least, you thought the Bridgerton family knew, but it seemed as though your husband did not fall into that category.

Jaw tense, you took a deep breath, trying to find the apprioate words for this situation. "Anthony, is that how you truly feel?"

It was as though Anthony sensed he had misspoken, but was unable to stop the words that tumbled out of his mouth. "I-I suppose so."

The anger melted off your features only to be replaced with an eerily calm look as you spared your husband a glance. "You're right, my dear, there are distinct differences between our two sexes. In fact, you have just proven mine and Eloise's point that our society is ruled by those with small minds. If you could only see that the world around us would not function without the women in your life. The fact that you seemingly do not see that makes me question who it is I married. Excuse me." you finished before you stormed out of the drawing room and towards your bedroom.

Silence permeated the drawing room, and no one knew what to say next. Anthony sat frozen in his chair, staring at the spot you had just been in, unsure how the conversation had spiraled in such a direction. Unsurprisingly, it was Eloise who spoke first, directed towards her eldest brother.

"Truly unbelievable, brother. Are you going to continue to sit there or are you going to go after your wife?" she asked, rolling her eyes.

To his credit, Anthony had the decency to look sheepish as he slid off his chair and went to go after you, leaving his younger siblings laughing at his expense. Though none of them followed either of you, they could only imagine the scolding her would receive.

Anthony hesitantly knocked on your bedroom door, pushing it open slightly after a few moments with no response. "y/n?" Anthony prodded, peaking into the shared room. His eyes fell on your curled up figure on top the bed and he sighed heavily. "My love, I wish to apologize."

"Apologize for what? For what you said or because you made me angry?" you tested, wanting Anthony's apology to be genuine and for the right reasons not because he was told to.

Your husband looked frozen in shock, and you watched as the gears in his mind worked overtime to figure out the correct answer. "Uhhh, both?" he finally answered, though it came out more like a question.

With a huff, you crossed your arms and narrowed your eyes. "Is that what you truly believe, Atnhony? Because if it is I don't know how this marriage is going to succeed. I thought you knew what I believed when we agreed to be together. Or was that all just to placate me in order to wed and bed me?"

"No, no, that's not true at all!" Anthony rushed to get out, and in an instant he was kneeling by your side. "y/n, I know my words were pigheadish and utterly inappropriate. I suppose I sometimes let the opinions of the ton guide my thoughts, even when they are wrong." he began, quickly holding up a hand before you could interject.

"I know, I know that does not excuse my actions. I want you to know that I fully support you in all possible ways, and I love you for your mind." he told you, offering a gently kiss to your knuckles. "You may scold me as long as you see fit, but please know I am by your side in all manners."

You were silent for a few moments, analyzing and decoding Anthony's confession. But you knew by the way his eyes soften and looked up at you with love and adoration he was completely sincere. Of course, that doesn't mean you still couldn't have your fun.

"Good." you simply said, leaning down to hover mere inches from Anthony's lips. He gratefully moved to close the gap, but you placed your hand on his chest to stop him. "Because women run the world, Lord Bridgerton. And don't you forget it." you whispered before you pushed away and left the room, leaving Anthony panting with a shiver down his spine as he watched your retreating form.

[808airsoftbros]

How IVE Gets You Off From Your Games/Matches

Author: This will only contain 18+ members. If this goes well I will consider making this a future series. This idea randomly came up in my head and wanted to try this out. If you want to see more check out my Masterlist.

An Yujin

When I say Yujin has her ways of getting her way, I mean it very well. She will do anything to get what she wants and what she wants right now is your attention

The only thing that stood in her way of your attention was your damn match in Titanfall 2

"Baby~," She'd call but you'd dismiss her promising that you'll be off soon but she didn't have the patience as she was needy

Sighing knowing that you're totally focused on the game but she knew how to take away your attention from the game

After putting on a spicy cat outfit that hugged her curves, she presents herself in front of the screen of your monitor

Expectantly, the outfit worked as you immediately paused the game to stare at her and she smirked

"How about you turn off the game and play with me instead~?" She suggested and you wasted no time turning off your PC and go to the bedroom soon after

Kim Gaeul

Gaeul allowed you to play games whenever you wished whenever she was away busy with her idol life but when she returned she found you were still playing on a match longer than you were supposed to

She well established with you that she had a no video game rule when she was home because she wanted all of your attention on her

But she has better idea than whipping your ass with her belt and instead comes to a more gentle approach

"Hmmm... Isn't it getting hot in here?" She pretended to fan herself with her hands

Without warning she slowly stripped herself of her clothes, starting with her shirt and pants revealing her sexy black lacy undergarments

Although Gaeul wasn't exactly the curviest that doesn't make her less hot than her members as she has a beautiful and sexy slender body no man can't resist and you're no exception

You tried to focus on the game knowing what game she was playing at but Gaeul was ruthless showing no mercy towards you

When Gaeul took off her bra revealing her perky breasts and teasing you by squeezing them you got off the match early

Jang Wonyoung

Wonyoung would act all cute and pouty trying to use her aegyo and charming skills to get you off the game but you were unfazed which made her pout even more

"Hmph. Guess I'll have to step things up..." She huffed and went to her closet

Wonyoung would go through her closet looking for any outfit that may catch your attention

"Let's see... No not this one... Hmm... No that won't do... Ah! Perfect!" She smirked devilishly

You just started up another match when Wonyoung walked in wearing a rather revealing maid outfit, her short skirt revealing her milky long thighs and legs, and parts of her ass, her top showing off her cleavage

You paid no attention at first but when you got a good lock your jaw dropped and she grinned knowing it was working but she wanted to teach you a lesson first

"Oh baby boy, aren't you playing a match~? Oh well, I guess you ain't getting a piece of me..." She mockingly said and went upstairs

With no other choice, you shut off the game and rushed upstairs after her where she'd be waiting in the bedroom

Rei

There isn't much to be said about Rei...

Rei can be very scary if you piss her off and when she found you were still playing your PC when she wanted your attention at most she was angry

"Yah! Can't you see I'm home?!" She yelled but you didn't hear her with the noise cancellation headphones

Rei groaned in annoyance before she walked in front of you near your desk and literally flashed her A-cup-sized breasts

"I know you can't resist these you little pervert~. Why don't you come suck on them~?"

Without hesitation you shut off the game and Rei smirked victoriously as you knew you couldn't resist her

But she wanted to teach you a lesson first and would make you watch first before you can touch her

"Uh uh, no touch~." She teased before playing with herself and moaning as loudly as possible to rile you up and that night would be real active of passionate and rough love making

Liz

Liz is not really the type to punish or make any bold moves as she's quite shy

However that doesn't mean she doesn't have her sexual needs and she is desperate for your attention but you were too occupied with your game to notice her

She was tired and stressed after the long day of her idol life and errands and all she wanted was your love and attention

"Baby~? Could you maybe get off the game for a bit~?" She softly asked tugging on your shirt

Looking at the precious look in her eyes screaming that she wanted to do the deed with you

Of course being her boyfriend who would you be to deny her such a thing? Not you, right?

Immediately, you shut off your PC and told your boys that you'd be on tomorrow and Liz would smile happily

But that night would be nothing but screaming moans of your name

[perotovar]

A Writing Challenge from August 1st - September 21st

"Erin, what is Frith?"

Frith, is an Old Norse term, typically used among friends and kinsmen, that would often be used in a diplomatic way to bring peace.

Or, more plainly, “a mutual agreement to avoid causing each other physical, emotional, or mental harm, and to avoid negatively affecting each other’s honor, worth, and luck.”

This is meant to be a long-lasting agreement among those that take part.

Now, I’ve spent a decent amount of time to know, in this fandom, that that could very well be wishful thinking, but I’m choosing to stay positive here. It’s no secret that there have been things happening lately that are less than stellar, to put it mildly.

But I’m not here to talk about that.

I’m here to have fun and be creative so that’s what we’re going to do!

I’ve had this idea brewing for several months, and it’s a subject matter that’s very near and dear to my heart. In my personal life, I’m a practicing Norse Pagan. For those that are unfamiliar, I like to describe it as worshiping the Old Ones. I follow the teachings of the Norse Gods.

Why am I telling you this? Well, since this is something that’s so close to me, and we’re all here as fans of one Pedro Pascal and his work, I figured why not combine the two? Initially, the goal was to write all these fics myself, but when I discovered just how exhausting and time-consuming that would be, I decided to include all of you!

I failed to do a follower milestone to thank you all and celebrate, so take this as my thank you for sticking around here and showing support to my fics and gifs.

Alright, so how is this going to work?

huge shoutout to @scenaaario and @kedsandtubesocks for all your help on this you lovely humans ♥

Another important aspect of Heathenry (Norse Paganism) is reciprocity. “Gifts given for gifts received.” So, you all wouldn’t just be giving me a bunch of fics to read. I’ve made something for those of you who will participate as well. This is an equal exchange.

I’ve paired up several of the PPCU with Norse Gods and made moodboards for each of them. I have reasons for matching them up the way I have, and I’ll go into more detail as to why later.

So, yes, this is a writing challenge at its core, but it’s also a way for me to show a little peace of myself with you all and for us all to be creative and have fun! Maybe you’ll step out of your comfort zone a little and that’s okay!

There is an expectation that something will be written/received, so if you don’t think you’ll be able to participate, that’s totally okay. There’s no pressure at all, and I appreciate any support or boosting to get to those that would like to!

Okay, enough of all that, which Gods have I chosen to match up with the Boys?

I’m glad you asked! Matching up traits and personalities was really fun, and really challenging. Nothing is a 1:1 match, but that’s okay. Nothing is supposed to be, and that’s where some of the challenge may come in.

For those that are participating in the challenge, you’ll send me an ask declaring which God/Pedro Boy you’d like to write. In return, and my part of the reciprocity, you’ll receive a moodboard to use for your fic, and a little blurb telling you a little more about the God and why I’ve chosen that character to pair them with. I’m hoping some of them will be a little obvious, but I’m aware not everyone is as familiar with the Gods as I am.

There are only 14 slots and therefore only 14 moodboards made, so once someone has been claimed, that’s it. As much as I’d love to have even more people participate, I don’t think I can make that many things lol.

If you’d still like to contribute somehow, I’m open to any questions you may have about the Gods (and maybe how the boys relate), because I’m a big ol’ nerd and love talking about this shit.

So, who’s who?

Maxwell Lord – Odin [Óðinn] (The All-Father and God of wisdom, magic, war, death, but also cunning and trickery.) claimed by @missredherring

Pero Tovar – Thor [Þórr] (God of thunder, lightning, sacred groves and trees, strength, and the protection of humankind.) claimed by @morallyinept

Max Phillips – Loki (The Trickster God of mischief and chaos.) claimed by @qveerthe0ry

Oberyn Martell – Freyja (Goddess of love, sensuality, sex, passion, war, and magic.) claimed by @guiltyasdave

Javier Peña – Freyr (God of fertility, harvests, and peace.) claimed by @almostfoxglove

Ezra – Týr (God of victory, law, and justice.) claimed by @marisferasiop

Marcus Moreno – Frigg (Goddess of domestic life, marriage, and maternal energy.) claimed by @joelalorian

Joel Miller – Hel (Goddess of death and guide to the underworld.) claimed by @beefrobeefcal

Dieter Bravo – Bragi (God of poetry, oral traditions, and the Skaldic Poet of the Aesir.) claimed by @schnarfer

Javi Gutierrez – Baldr (God of light and purity.) claimed by @morallyinept

Dave York – Vidar [Víðarr] (The Silent God of vengeance.) claimed by @kedsandtubesocks

Din Djarin – Heimdall [Heimdallr] (Gatekeeper of Asgard, the gods’ stronghold within Valhalla. God of guardianship, vigilance, and protection.) claimed by @djarinmuse

Frankie Morales – Skadi [Skaði] (Goddess of winter, skiing, bow-hunting, and mountains.) claimed by @agentmarcuspike

Jack “Agent Whiskey” Daniels – Ægir (Brewmaster of the sea.) claimed by @lotusbxtch

extras:

Marcus Pike – Idun [Iðunn] (Goddess of eternal youth and sacred apples.) claimed by @gasolinerainbowpuddles

Silva – Ymir (First being in existence and the reason for the creation of Earth.) claimed by @yopossum

Santiago Garcia – Fenrir (Most famous of all the wolves in Norse Mythology and the bringer of Ragnarok.) claimed by @for-a-longlongtime

There are no rules for your fic itself. You can write whatever and however much you want. All I ask is that some aspects of the Gods stay intact, otherwise this would just be any old writing challenge.

I wanna see you guys get creative with what the Gods offer. How are they speaking to you? What energy/vibes are you getting off of them? Run with it.

Now, I’m posting this the day before Lammas, the Pagan holiday that often takes place in the Summer, August 1st. I think it would round out the summer nicely if everything gets published around Mabon, September 21st, the holiday that celebrates the Fall equinox.

That gives everyone almost two months to write their stories. I’m hoping that’s a decent time? If it’s not, I’m not picky and typically run on Pagan Standard Time, so if it’ll take you a little longer, just let me know and it’ll probably be fine.

Thank you for sticking with my ramble, and I wish you all gọ̄der hēle (good luck)!

And remember, have fun!

[icarusredwings]

The Salon

Thinking about transfem, Wade finds herself a nice beauty shop and she's been going here for a couple of weeks, and while she's worn wigs before, this is her first true glue down.

Tw (apprently) Dramatization of language, satire, it's supposed to sound terribly written. That's the point.

She's getting a full bouncey blowout, and today she's even decided that she's getting old money nails, Cherry Mocha to be exact. "They look like blood!" She giggles, estatic and simply glowing with joy.

"Now hold still, baby. You're finna mess up your edges."

"Honey, she gon be messing up more than that when she gets home." The woman next to them say.

The salon busts out in laughter as another client giggles in the heating dome.

"What? Why would I mess it up? I promise I'll follow the care routine."

They laugh again. "Oh sweetheart, They mean... Don't be letting your mans tug up on your weave."

"Oh.. OH -" she giggles too, blushing at the idea. She wonders what Logan was doing right now. If he likes the lunch, she packed him, and if his construction buddies were still giving him a fuss from the notes that she left him or the heart-shaped sandwiches.

"But darlin' I'm not kidding, when your mans see you, you're gonna have to beat him off ya with a stick!"

"Shoo guurrrll you're so right!" The other says.

Wade giggles once again, shaking her head quickly. "No, no! He ain't like that. I-i mean sure, he thinks im pretty, but.. he might be lying." She says quickly,

"Aye!! Gurl, watch the curler!! You're gonna done burn your neck off!" She scolds hers.

"I think you might have already burned her braincells off because there ain't no way you think he's lying. You gotta be kidding me!"

"If that man is lyin', Leave him, sis!"

"Noo... it's alright. I-I know he loves me, it's just.. I look like this - you know? And he's so god damn handsome I just.. sometimes I think he might-"

"Now you hush your mouth right now and litsen to me girl, you hear me? You are gorgeous. Besides, if a man can't handle a little cancer, then he aint worth your time and beauty. Huh ladies?"

"Mhm. Damn right." They nod, "Preach!"

"Maybe get a little work done in the chest. Boys love a fat chest, dollface."

Wade frowns, hands coming to her chest. Logan never mentioned anything about her being flat before, but.. the words don't help the voices telling her otherwise.

"Well, good thing she's put for a man, not a boy, huh, Georgette? Besides... yours couldn't keep your husband from lookin at the secretary.."

"Ooooh!!" The salon says as the woman known as Deb smirks. "Now let me turn ya around, baby."

A deep gasp came from her, leaning forward as she stood up, smiling widely. "Is that... me?" She whispers, hand going to the curls as tears gloss those bright opal eyes of hers.

"It's always been you, sugar. Just had to bring her out to shine in the sunlight. So whatda think? How do you feel?"

"I-.." standing she turns, looking at the sides and back. "I-i feel.. beautiful!!"

"Yeaah!! That's what we wanna hear. Now what do you think your hot hunk is gonna think about this?"

"If he don't take you home and please ya babygirl I will!"

The woman scoffs, rolling her eyes. "Shut up, Carl! Everyone round here done know you got the bumps!"

The changes were simple. Some deep conditioning lotion, a tiny bit of powder over the bandaged wounds, some tone matching lip stick, eyelash extentions, drawn on eyebrows, her nails. They all meant nothing individually but tied together with that wig?

Wade might actually begin to believe that she was pretty.

The shop bell rings as the salon goes quiet.

In walked a man in a sweat woaked wife beater, thick boots with cement stuck to the bottom, dirty pants and tan gloves with stains themselves, hair up his arms glittering with grey dust.

Wiping some sweat off his brow with a dark blue hankerchief, he smiles nervously. "Hi.. erm.."

"Damn.. what I wouldn't give to have an ass that tight.."

"I bet I could flick I dime off that thang." Some older ladies whispered to each other in the back.

Another began to fan herself with a magazine as she came to him. "How can I help you, sugar?"

Wade giggles, knowing her man was fine as fuck. Esspecially after work. If he stayed too long, though, he might stink up the shop.

"I'm uh.. lookin' for my wife..?"

"Mmh, is that so? And what if I say you're lookin at her right now?"

The mans face sqrunches, brows furrowing and nose twiching. "..I don't think so.."

Wade could squeal right now, giggling again.

"Oh leave that mean be, Loretta! He's old enough to be your father!"

"Tch.. if my father was that fine maybe I would've gone to college like my mama wanted." She says, moving aside as Wade stepped up. Logan knew that smile anywhere, his eyes lighting up, a little glad because things were starting to get uncomfortable.

"Hi..." she says, holding her purse behind her back with a small sway, blushing and giggling as she watches Logan's eyes look ever inch of her.

"H-hi! I uhm.. you look great." He grins, arms coming around her waist.

"Great? JUST great??" Debs hand came to her hip. "You insultin my work?"

"N-no ma'am! I-.. You're.."

A woman in the corner getting a perm starts to say something but Deb put her finger up. "Let the man think. It's hard to think of words when so much more is on his mind." She smirks, making Logan blush and look down.

Wade squeals in delight. "Is that true?"

He swallows. "Shh.. You look stunning. But.. you know you didn't have to do all this. You were already gorgeous just the way you are."

Wade blinks, misunderstanding. "You don't like it..?"

"No-"

"No!?"

The woman all look at each other with raised brows.

By now, Logan was sweating more from this then from the job. "No! I mean- Yes!! I do. I like it. But I LOVE you. No matter what. And I like what ever makes you happy. Does it make you happy?" He asks, hand coming up to softly caress her cheek.

"Yes.." She smiles. "Do you like my nails?" Her hand comes up as he tilts his head.

"They look like blood.."

"That's what I said!!" She giggles again, leaving the shop.

Loretta looks to Deb. "...Shes gonna need a touch up by the time hes done with her."

Deb laughs through her nose. "Shut up.."

[megamindsecretlair]

The King and I, Part 1

Pairing: King Ghezo x Virgin!Black!Fem!/ Plus Size reader

Warnings: 18+, Minors DNI, You are in charge of your own reading experience. Intentional use of AAVE. This is more background than anything, so mentions of violence, violence against women, brief mentions of rape, torture, murder, slave trade, and suicidal ideation. Hopefully this will be 3 parts, will lead to smut! Ya heathens, I know what you here for LOL. And you all deserve forehead kisses.

Summary: Raised to be perfect, your father has had it with your disobedience. He marches you to the palace and throws you at the King's feet. You'd rather die than be another person's property. But the King surprises you in many ways.

Word Count: 3,533k

A/N: Couldn't get this idea out of my brain and it definitely doesn't follow the canon in the movie. AH well, LOL. I love it and that's all that matters. Hopefully, my brain continues to cooperate. Please, please consider commenting and reblogging to help support writers! And please put ages in bios! Or get blockt!

Masterlist | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

Taglist: @planetblaque @browngirldominion

Before you had a chance to be a little girl, you were coveted for your looks. How pretty you were. How nice your hair was. Paraded out in front of many odd, adult people who looked at you with strange things in their eyes. Things you were too young to understand.

As you got older, it only got worse. You were expected to sit there like a doll and let people talk over you or around you, as if you were no more than grass beneath their feet. Wind in their hair. Something always there and easily ignored.

So you made the decision to be seen. You gave opinions when they weren’t wanted. You stayed in other people’s business. You resisted and rebelled. It was nice while it lasted.

Your father made sure to curb you of such habits. But somehow, the punishments never took like they were supposed to. You continued to speak. To use the gifts the gods gave you. If they did not want you to speak, they should have taken your tongue.

At his end, your father gave up his pursuit of a wealthy match for you. “If you will not listen to me, I will give you to someone you have no choice but to obey!” Spittle flew from your father’s mouth.

As you were marched to the palace, that was the one thing you focused on. Your father was a proud man. Perhaps you had gone a step too far if he was letting spit fly from his mouth with abandon. This was the least of your concern, true, but being cast off on the newly appointed King Ghezo was too big to face head on.

People in the village watched as you were marched there, your father’s grip on your arm near bruising. His thick fingers were wrapped around your upper arm. He set a brutal pace and walked forward whether you were able to keep up or not. You stared at the people. You made them look at you.

You didn’t expect them to do anything to help you. No one ever lifted a finger to help little girls. You were many years an adult by now, but to everyone, you were still so young. Young in the ways of the world. But growing up, weren’t you taught the ways of the world? 

The powerful were in charge with no one to challenge them otherwise. While everyone else was sheep, forced to do their bidding. 

Your feet tripped over rocks in the dirt road. Your father continued marching. The palace gates were not far now. Dread started to inch its way to your heart. You had never seen the King, but you heard how your parents whispered about him. How he was both similar and different from his father and brother.

His father had been a cruel man, living in ways that your people hadn’t lived before. Surely, his son would be no different. When you learned that you were going to be given to the new king, you pictured how ugly he must be. How cruel. 

Your father was handing you over like a piece of meat. Handing his daughter over as if he had no hand in birthing you, raising you, guiding, and protecting you. Now you were nothing to him. You looked at him as he jostled you down the street. His eyes were set forward, a frown on his face.

Did he not feel anything at all? All these years you had been in his care and there wasn’t an ounce of feeling in him.

“Did you ever love me?” You asked. You were out of breath and it was said softly. Perhaps he didn’t hear you. You hoped. You didn’t really want to hear his answer. Hear that despite everything else, he did not share that love for you as you did for him all these years.

“You are an insolent child. I will make more of you. I will instill in them obedience where you had none,” he spat. 

You refused to cry. You had an idea that he didn’t truly love you. Sometimes he’d look at you with such…hate. As if you were a stubborn stain he could not remove. You thought it was because of your looks. Because it was all anyone could talk about. But even when it was just you and your mother, he would still look at you as if he could cast you out with a single look.

At the palace gates, the guards halted your father. The red doors were large, stretching high above you. Anyone who went in, never came back out. You heard whispered words about why the King would need so many women. There was talk of him eating flesh. If he sold it, was there a big stretch to eating it? 

You’d die before you got eaten. As your father argued with the guards, telling how he had a disobedient child that the King could do whatever he wanted with, you made the second biggest decision of your life. You will die before harm befell you. In whatever form that was. 

If the King forced himself on you, you’d kill him and take yourself with him. If he tried to put you in a stew, you’d make him watch as you bled all over his fancy robes. The guards finally opened the gates enough for you to peek through.

Women were engaged in combat. Your mouth dropped open at how fierce they looked. You were not allowed to look upon the Agojie when they returned from their battles beyond the walls of the kingdom. But now you dared not to look away. 

Your father pushed you forward. One of the guards caught you and you turned your head to your father. This was the most satisfied you had ever seen him. He hoped that the King did something awful to you. He was counting on it.

You straightened up behind the walls of the palace. You looked your father in the eyes and you smiled. You spat on the ground at his feet, that smile still on your face. His smile faltered, rage contorting his features. You turned your back on him and walked into the lion’s lair.

The guards handed you off one by one until a young guard escorted you to the front of the palace. In the training yard, men and women walked around with heads held high. It had never been your intention to become Agojie, but perhaps the mad King will let you once he found out how unsuitable for a wife you were. 

The thought of killing anyone made you ill, but it would be better than to be bound to someone who could have you killed with one word. 

The guard took you to the door that led to the inner palace. An Agojie met you there, a tall woman with beautiful features and sharp nails. She looked you up and down and conversed with the guard. You didn’t pay attention. You were marching to your death, what did the particulars matter? 

The woman took possession of you, leading you into the inner palace where it was women only. Everywhere you looked, there were Dahomey women walking freely. They laughed! They trained, they ran, and hugged each other without abandon. There were a few women from other tribes there, but…this sight robbed you of clear thought.

“You will catch flies if you leave your mouth open like that,” the Agojie said. 

The Agojie stalked forward, a hand on the hilt of her weapon. You briefly wondered how you could steal one unnoticed. You searched around you. There were weapons everywhere but there were so many Agojie, you doubted you’d be able to capture one. 

“What’s your name?” You asked.

“Nanisca,” the warrior said. “You’d do well to listen to whatever the King wants.” 

You didn’t need to be reminded of the King’s cruelty. It was all your father taunted you with for days as he made his decision to hand you over. You followed Nanisca to the palace proper. There, a man dressed in bright purple robes greeted you. He was bald with lots of jewelry hanging from his nose, ears, and around his neck. He looked you up and down and then rolled his eyes towards Nanisca.

“I suppose we will have this to look forward to from now on,” he said.

“As long as our King breathes air,” Nanisca said. She left you there with the man. 

“Come,” he said. You followed him, though dread made your steps wooden and your limbs frozen. You were too deep to escape now. But escape to where? Outside the kingdom, you ran the risk of slavers. Rapists. Murderous thugs who would know where you came from and kill you just for being born in the wrong tribe.

The palace was nice, almost peaceful. There was the clank of weapons outside. Grunts and sounds from the Agojie as they practiced. The palace was big but also felt empty. As if there weren’t a lot of people there.

The King must be fat then. Perhaps he ate all the servants and would-be brides. The bald man led you through to a chamber with many chairs. On a raised dais, there was a large throne and a smaller one beside. 

“Wait here,” the man said. He twirled and disappeared down the hall. You took a step forward, looking at the displayed riches and art work. If a king was cruel, did he know anything about art? Or beauty? 

“Is this necessary?” You heard mumbling and turned towards the door, ready to face the King head on. To see what kind of monster your parents have subjected you to. 

A young man walked in, with thick curled hair and light facial hair. He wore robes of gold, his robe split open revealing a well defined chest. He stood in the doorway and gazed at you as you did him.

He certainly didn’t look monstrous. You knew that evil things often came in the prettiest packages, but he was beautiful. Strong. Solid. 

He was still your new jailor, you mustn’t forget. So you stood there and looked him in the eye. You were not a victim and you will not be treated as such. 

“What is your name?” He asked. He pressed into the room further, looking you up and down with desire in his eyes. Your parents taught you well. How to spot it in others. 

You told him your name and he repeated it. As if to savor it around his tongue. He walked closer until he was within reach. Up close, he was even more handsome. You had to fight yourself from getting distracted by his looks. He was still cruel. You remembered all the horrible stories about his brother. He couldn’t be any different.

“So your father has given you away to me.” 

It wasn’t a question, but you answered anyway. “He has, my King,” you said.

“Do you wish to be given away?” He asked.

You gasped and looked at him. You looked to the bald man for help but he was turned away from the two of you. You looked back towards King Ghezo. It was the first time anyone had asked what you wished. For it to come from a king who should not care what you wanted…you weren’t sure what to do with the information.

“N-No,” you said.

King Ghezo nodded. “I wish I could make it easier for you. But you are too beautiful to be Agojie and if I turn you from this palace, you will have nowhere to go.” He reached for your hand and you snatched it from him. He smiled patiently as he held out his hand to you.

He was only pretending to be nice. A stupid, hopeful part of you had thought he wasn’t like the stories. He was worse. Still, he was correct. If he turned you away, you had nowhere to go. Once you had been here, everyone would assume the King used you and not deemed you worthy. Cast you out like a whore. You would be forced to sell your body. 

You took his hand. He gripped it lightly and smiled. He kissed the back of your hand. “Welcome, my Queen,” he said.

The next few days were a blur. King Ghezo’s first wife saw to your preparation for the wedding. The eunuch from earlier saw to your lessons, what was expected of you. No different than what your father had wanted from you. To be on your best behavior and only speak when spoken to. 

You hadn’t seen the King since then, but you caught glimpses every now and then. You were given your own quarters and servant, someone to tend to your needs. It was odd to have someone help bathe you, but the King preferred cleanliness to all else. He was vain on top of a liar.

The feast arrived in no time and you were painted up like a doll. At the wedding, you stood there as expected. If you had smiled any harder, it would have split your face in two. You had stood there like a goat on the pasture, ready to be bought and chopped up. King Ghezo studied you, encircled you, and found you acceptable. You had been tense, near trembling. You hated every second of it.

But now you are married. You sat beside King Ghezo at the high table, while he joked and laughed with his advisors. His other wife sat on your side, quiet and dull. You pitied her. The fight had left her long ago. You were still young. There was still time for you. While everyone smiled and laughed and enjoyed the feast, you hid a knife up your sleeve. It wasn’t that sharp, but it’d do the trick when the King tried to climb in your bed tonight.

You smiled in his face and feigned an innocent routine. You waited for the casual cruelty. When he would hiss for you to shut up, eat more, eat less, sit up straight. It never came. He only gave you brief glances, each always polite. A smile on those plump lips. You couldn’t shake your resolve though. Tonight, you’d be free. Whether free in death or free in life was entirely up to him. 

That night, you lay in your bed. There was a door there that led to a small balcony overlooking the rest of the kingdom. It was mostly the trees in the forest, but they were tall and mighty and more than the view you got back home. You did not spare your father a thought, but you thought of your mother. It had not been her choice to marry such a cruel man. 

It had not been your choice to marry a cruel man either. However, you felt as if you had a child, you would have moved the heavens and the earth to protect it. To not let what happened to you, happen to your own daughter. You supposed that dream was gone now. You’d either die tonight and never have a kid, or face the wrath of the kingdom and bear one without your permission. Somehow death seemed kinder. 

You did not want to die. But how could you live within these walls? With that monster? Admittedly, you did not hear any screams late in the night. His first wife seemed unbothered. Untouched. She had borne him his first son, so perhaps he left her alone. And perhaps goats flew over the moon. 

Men were only interested in one thing from a woman. And it was not her brain. 

A soft knock tore you from your musings. You tensed up, sliding your hand beneath your pillow to wrap around the handle of the knife. Maybe if you pretended to be sleep, he’d come back another night.

The door pushed open, soft feet padded inside, and the door closed again. You lay on your side, turned towards the open balcony. If you screamed, would no one come to your aid? 

“Are you awake?” King Ghezo’s soft voice reached you. You didn’t answer. Your breaths were stalled in your chest. Your hand cramped from holding the knife too hard. 

The King poked at your shoulder before making you roll over. “I know you are not…”

You sat up and had the knife at his throat in one fell swoop. The King’s eyes widened, but he looked at you, not the knife.

“Will you kill me, my Queen?” He asked. 

You pressed the knife into his skin, hard enough to know you meant business but careful not to break the skin. You were already committing treason, but somehow, it was important not to mar the king. 

He stared at you. Those deep brown eyes set in such a handsome face. You looked for the cruel man you heard about. Where was he? You could harm a cruel man. They deserved it tenfold. Why wasn’t he making this easy on you?

“I don’t want to,” you finally admitted. “I have to.”

“Why?” 

What did he mean, why? “Aren’t you angry?” 

“Angry at a scared woman who has no one on her side? No,” he said. He was so calm, so patient. This was at odds with everything you built up about him in your head.

“Don’t pity me,” you said. You pushed the knife in deeper. 

He leaned away and held his hands up. “I do not pity you. I will not pretend to know your life. But I can promise that you’re safe here,” he said.

You scoffed. “I’m not safe anywhere,” you said. You pressed your lips together. That hadn’t been what you meant to say. You meant to throw it back on him, that he could not promise safety when he dealt in the slave trade. When he looked at his people and only saw money from white devils. 

His eyes softened and he slowly smiled. “No man intact can enter this palace. Beyond that, we are protected by the fiercest warriors in the world. Beyond them, there is a first legion still to defend this palace from enemies. Here in the heart of it, you are the safest you’ve ever been.” 

“But who will keep me safe from you?” 

King Ghezo leaned forward, making you choose between cutting him or retreating. You eased up on the pressure. “You can do a finer job protecting yourself than most women can,” he said.

You stared at him. Your arm began to shake from holding the knife for so long. You couldn’t do it. You couldn’t kill him. You were weak and would never be accepted as an Agojie. You would never fare well beyond these walls. 

You dropped the knife on the bed and held out your wrists. “I’m ready for my punishment, my King,” you said.

King Ghezo let out a long breath. You noticed now that he wore a deep, royal purple that highlighted his rich, dark skin. He wore minimal jewelry. He was just that magnificent on his own. Especially when the candle light flickered across his features.

“Punishment?” 

“I’ve threatened the King. I am ready for whatever punishment you hand out,” you said.

The King ignored the knife on the bed between you. It was within his right to take it and kill you. Or take it as evidence of your deceit. He could brand it for all to see as he threw you out of the palace. 

He did none of those things. He reached out his hand slowly and enclosed yours in his. You stared at your hands in comparison to his. He watched you as he brought your hands to his lips and placed a small kiss there.

“Plot how next you’ll kill me. If I have not convinced you of my intentions, of my character by then, you may carry through,” he said.

“What? No, no!” You said. You pulled your hands back but he held on. He pulled you closer until your hands were pressed against his warm, smooth chest. 

“Keep the knife, my Queen. This will be interesting between us,” he said.

This was surely a trap. A way for him to play and toy with you while he tightened the noose about your neck. Or gathered wood to burn you alive. Or for the Agojie to sharpen their swords to take your head with it.

“My King…”

“One day, I wish for you to call me your love,” he said. “But I will earn it or die trying.” A cocky grin spread across his face. It transformed him from a king to a man. A man who you were married to, sitting on your bed, with intentions involving you. 

He placed one more kiss on your hands and then retreated from the room. He never gave you his back, but he did smile and bow. Then he was gone from your room. A chill from outside caressed your bare skin and you shivered.

Was the king truly mad? Or were you? And why did he make you want to find out which?

Masterlist | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5

[dystopicjumpsuit]

DJ MY LOVE!

May I request, from the cuddle prompts, of you feel so inspired:

- Feeling the rumble of their chest when they talk while cuddling

Or

- Needing their cuddles even though they have something else to do

With Tech! Haven't asked for him in a while and I think we could all use some Tech fluff right about now.

(If you get a bunch of asks for the same Clone or just feel a pull towards another clone, feel free to change it. 😘)

A/N: REBEL MY LOVE! Thank you for this! I’ve never written Tech before, and I was a bit intimidated, so I hope I’ve done justice to our boy. Also, you get two prompts for the price of one 🩵

Pairing: Tech x Reader (GN; reader is shorter than Tech but not otherwise described, aside from having a rough morning and a tendency to keep things bottled up)

Rating: T (but as always, minors DNI)

Wordcount: 789

Warnings and tags: fluff, cuddles, Star Wars swearing, adult language

Summary: You swear to the Maker, if ONE MORE THING goes wrong today, you’re going to lose your mind. Tech has an exceptional idea for how to help.

Masterlist | Sign up for my tag list

“Dank farrik,” you muttered under your breath.

The kriffing durang fruit you’d planned on turning into muffins had gone off. It smelled like death itself, and you gagged as you tossed it into the trash compactor. With a sigh, you glanced at your chronometer and winced.

Late. Kark. 

You snatched up your cup of caf as your brain raced to think of an alternative breakfast that you could pull together in a hurry before your scheduled holocomm. Not that Omega or the Batch really needed you to cook breakfast for them, but Benduday morning muffins had become something of a tradition, and you really, really didn’t want to see the matching disappointment in Omega and Wrecker’s eyes when you told them they would need to fend for themselves that day.

Maybe Shep has some extra—

“MOTHERKRIFFER!” you exclaimed, cutting off your own train of thought as the lid on your mug popped loose and you doused yourself in hot caf.

A quiet rustle sounded from the front of the Marauder as Tech slid out from beneath the control console and sat up to watch you, setting aside his hydrospanner. With supreme effort, you managed to keep your eye from twitching as you braced yourself for a well-deserved lecture on your language.

“Is everything all right?” he asked instead.

“Peachy,” you grumbled, grabbing a towel to wipe off your shirt in disgust.

He rose quietly and approached. “I do not believe you.”

“What gave it away?” you snapped, flinging the towel into the sink with a frankly unnecessary level of force.

“You are upset. Given the relatively minor nature of the incident, I deduce that something else is bothering you. Do you wish to discuss it?”

“Not really.”

“Astonishing,” he said dryly. 

“The kriff is that supposed to mean?” you demanded.

“Merely that I have observed that you often prefer not to discuss your struggles, though I hope none of us have ever made you feel as though you should not speak freely when something is troubling you.”

You blinked, too surprised to be offended at his earlier sarcasm. “You have?”

“Indeed.”

Well… shit.

“It’s nothing,” you lied. Tech made no response, but he didn’t bother to hide his skepticism. “Fine. It’s a bunch of tiny somethings that have all piled up on top of each other, and nothing is going the way I had planned, and I’m hungry, damn it, and now I have to think of something to cook for breakfast, except I have no kriffing caf left to make my brain work, and I have no other fruit to make muffins, so Wrecker and Omega are going to give me the tooka eyes, and I have a stupid holocomm that I’m expecting at literally any minute, and I don’t even want to talk to them, but I feel like I have to, and I swear to the Maker, if ONE more thing goes wrong, I’m going to lose my ever-loving mind!”

You grabbed the towel and began to scrub the sink furiously, desperate to focus on something other than the conversation that you very much didn’t want to have. After a few seconds, though, you felt a weight on your shoulder. You turned to see Tech’s hand resting there, and for a moment you were so shocked that you stopped scrubbing. He was not usually one to initiate physical contact, and you had always tried to respect his boundaries.

“Tech?” you asked uncertainly.

“I have observed that you often seem to find comfort in Wrecker and Omega's hugs when you are upset. As Wrecker and Omega are not currently present, I would like to offer my own.”

“Are you sure?” you inquired, dumbfounded. “Aren't you busy with the repairs from Omega’s last flight lesson?”

“It can wait,” he replied. “Unless you would prefer not—”

His sentence cut off abruptly as you crashed into him, burying your face against his chest and wrapping your arms around his waist. His arms closed around your shoulders, and he held your head in one hand. You slumped against him, turning your head so you could breathe.

“Thank you,” you murmured.

“You are welcome,” he replied, the rumble of his voice vibrating against your ear as you rested your cheek against his chest. “I do not wish you to feel as though you must face all your struggles alone. Even the tiny ones.”

Just then, your comlink chimed with the dreaded holocomm.

“Do you wish to answer that?” he asked.

“Not really,” you admitted, “but I probably should.”

“May I propose an alternative course of action?”

“Propose away,” you replied.

“Remain with me, like this, and forget the holocomm,” he replied.

“You know what?” you asked. “That's an exceptional proposition. I accept.”

---

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