#scandal au

[ilariyalavorowrites]

Time enough for love (Bridgerton) Part One

imagine: A mission to ensure Kate and Anthony find each other during the social season of 1814. Time travelling into the past to ensure that crucial moments occur. However, you find yourself falling in love with the pair. It breaks your heart when it comes to leaving and returning to the future.

Warnings: Angst with an eventual happy ending, AU, Bisexual Kate, Scandal, such a scandal

Pairings: Kate Sharma x Reader x Anthony Bridgerton

Word count: 2,831 words

Universe: Bridgerton

Reader gender: Female

Author: Ilariya_Lavoro writes

Tagged: @agathaharknessfan96 @homie0sapien @a-lil-bit-nuts

Part one of ?

Next

1814 

Night of the Featherington Ball

It was over; the mission had been a roaring success, then why did you feel so damn hollow? You had completed every objective down to the letter and tackled each obstacle as it arose. Yet, you couldn’t shake this heaviness pressing down, refusing to budge. It was as if a lead tonne weight lingering here, chained tightly around your ribcage. A continual reminder of what had been. What could never be.

You shouldn’t be feeling like this; this should have been nothing short of a cut-and-dry race to the finish, straight from A to B, right? 

This was where you meant to jump off, go home, and simply pack away any forbidden thoughts of them. You would report in one last time with your head held high and simply walk away. Never once looking back over your shoulder, in hopes that���

No, you could not think like that. It would not do. You needed to move forward, wading through the muddle of emotions that flooded your senses. You could not let them consume you, regardless of how easy that might seem at this moment in time. How effortless it might be to simply let the rush of a wondrous collection of memories wash over you, allowing the warmth and joy back in. Living in all that had been but no, that could not be.

It was never meant to be your life, they were never yours to begin with. The unexpected result of your actions was just that, a blip in time. A second that would rapidly disappear as soon as the clock hand inched forward. Time moved on without hesitation, and so must you. You had done your job, it was time to leave and return to your own time, to that one cold and barely furnished bedroom flat that you called home.

This might have been the first occasion that you had been called up to lead an operation on the ground. For you had to be part of more missions and operations than you could count but they were nothing like this. 

For this was what you had trained for, the last ten years could and would not be wasted due to the simple fact that you couldn’t put those troublesome feelings to bed. You cursed silently as you began to pace back and forth. 

For you had been able to separate yourself before, view them as objectives to be completed.  It had been a job just like all the others. Nothing was different. Ensuring that fate's designs were painted into being, letting the breath of existence breeze through as the bright colours danced for all to see. It has been illuminating to witness the weaving of the threads upon the loom as it tightened and pulled this way and that until the artistry was revealed for all to see. 

You knew what was likely to occur when you returned to the base. Your superiors would see what was plainly displayed on your face. Labelling you as emotionally compromised and needing to be fixed before redeployment could be an option. A visit to the Doctor. He who haunts and darkens the basement corridors where few would dare to tread.  

His particular set of skills did indeed have their uses but the price was one, so steep that most would reluctantly follow through. Usually only with a gun pressed firmly in one back if not done voluntarily. That high price was relatively simple, you would lose what you desperately clung to. Any memory of this operation would be scrubbed away. Leaving a void where they had once been. A memory wipe, for it would be as if you had been restored to your factory settings.

It would be as if you hadn’t been selected in the first place. The last ten years would melt away, and false memories would be slotted in to create a new narrative—one without this infraction of the highest order. As your internal clock was wound back, all that had been would fade out of existence.

The situation was fraught, you were torn between your professional drive and your own desires. You stood at a crossroads, terrified to turn left or right. Either path would bear a heavy cost. Neither would leave you without a lick of damage in one form or another. You had no choice really. You sighed, resigned to the fact that your fate would be sealed with a click of a singular button. If you dared to press it. 

Your finger hovered over the SEND icon. This was your point of no return, for there would be no going back once you had pressed it. The signal would be sent and the extraction would begin. The very notion of finding a place within their world was next to impossible. The relationship that you longed for was nothing short of scandalous. It would be ruinous for all involved but such desires were pure fantasy.

All you could do now was to burn the bridges that led straight back to Kate and Anthony. In that split second, as you ruminated on your choices and the consequences, weighing up all the little details and avenues. 

There was a path, straightforward and painless at your feet. The true pain would be along in the days that followed as you waited for the Doctor to come calling. As the weight came crashing down upon your shoulders, pushing you further into the depths of despair until you simply could not say no.

For how can a wound of the heart bleed, if it wasn’t there, to begin with?

"All in the name of King and Country…" -----------------------------------------------------------------------------St James’s House, On the outskirts of London 2037

This was it.

You could barely contain the excitement that buzzed through your veins as you marched down the corridor towards the hanger. Your commanding officer would be waiting for you, ready to commence the next stage of the operation. This day had been just over the horizon for more than a few years, as instructions and neverending etiquette lessons were drilled into you.

Your role was vital to the mission but you would not be alone in the field. The others had long since gone ahead to establish their cover within the Ton. Now it was your turn. Your hair was tightly fashioned into what was deemed fit to meet regulation standards. No hair would fall out of place whilst you remain within these halls.

The tiled floors beneath your boot-covered feet gleamed brightly, as the rays of the midday sun shone through a nearby window. The building housing the unit had long since been converted from its original purpose. Most onlookers would have no idea what occurred behind these ornately carved stone walls.

This spacious building had once been a stately home up until the moment that the family who owned it fell into a state of financial ruin. The Department wasted no time in purchasing the land and all the buildings that were a part of the estate. Lining the edge of the expansive ground with razor wire-topped fencing to keep the curious out. Guards and officers posted at the perimeter to enforce the message that this was a military base of operation with a tight security detail.

The illustrious parties that these grand halls once hosted were often the subject of chatter amongst the ranks. One of the ballrooms had been converted into the mess, where more than a few found themselves whisked off into romantic daydreams. Imagining the musicians striking up a melody as men and women paired to dance the night away.

“Captain!” A voice called, pulling you out of your contemplation. There standing a few metres ahead was the source of the voice. Seeing the young private in his regulation uniform brought a soft smile to your lips. This young recruit nervously returned the gesture as you quickened your pace.

“Good afternoon Private” You greeted them, your tone even but tinges of warmth leaking through, trying to calm their nerves. You didn’t bite, well unless you were asked to.

“I was sent to escort you down by General Harkerl” You nodded, confirming and relaying your confirmation of the information. 

“Then lead on Private '' You swiftly responded, as the young recruit turned on their heel and walked away. You followed after them through the hallway, climbing down the metal staircase at the other end which descended into the hanger. You walked in silence as the wide open space was revealed to you. Heavy-duty wires and cable ran the length of the Hangar with various and differing pieces of scientific equipment lining the walls.

The General in all her glory, stiffly stood in the middle of the structure. The stripes that she fought hard for, were proudly displayed for all to see and aspire to. If she could achieve that rank, anyone could. She had always been one of the role models that you held in esteem as you fought to show that you deserved to be here, to be counted amongst the heroes and veterans who have paved the way for you and all who followed.

As you stepped off the stairs and onto the marble floor below, the Private halted before bowing to the General and then making a hasty exit. They had done their job to the letter, a quick escort and delivery mission for one as green and new as them. You could painstakingly remember being given such tasks way back when you had started out.

You had started from the bottom, grunts at the beck and call of your superiors, even small jobs held valuable experience. This recruit would learn this in time. Your gaze turned to fall upon the stern and weathered face of the superior officer and commanding force who had recruited each individual member of the team. 

“Ready to begin, are we Captain?” General Harker, with a cool but professional tone, addressed you. “You understand the parameters of this operation and the consequences should you fail”

A shiver of fear shot through you, as you considered the chance that you might fail. No, you could not dare to believe that failure was even an option. “Yes, Ma’am” You answered, knowing that her gaze was upon you, reading even the slightest expression that might arise. Yet, you remain hidden beneath your well-practised mask, a calm, steady but neutral expression that held even if underneath it all truly you were an utter bundle of nerves.

She curtly nodded, a small smile broke through but it was gone as quickly as it had appeared before turning her attention to the small control booth off to one side signalling them to begin.

“Good Luck Captain, Safe Travels” 

The Department had long since perfected the Art of Time Travel for Operations such as the one, that you were about to embark on. The organisation had been built from the ground up by a few remarkable individuals who had believed that it was possible to travel through time, and who had fought tooth and nail after each failed experiment. Until that one miraculous day when all the pieces fell into place.

You were aware of the existence of the founders but never had been deemed worthy enough to stand in their presence. They were a mixture of creatives, scientists and military men who were the best and brightest in their chosen fields and had long since retired and handed over the keys to the kingdom. However, their influence was still felt to this day.

A crackle of a microphone being switched on alerted you that it was about to begin. The journey through time. You took a deep breath as an unfamiliar voice was projected around the room, echoing and bouncing off the walls.

“Close your eyes, Captain, and Good Luck” Your eyes slide shut, as the familiar sounds of a machine whirring as it surged into life to carry out its task of transporting you through time. How it exactly worked was a highly guarded secret. On a strictly need-to-know basis and you didn’t need to know.

General Adelaide Harker watched from within the booth as you disappeared. The petite, stocky battle-hardened woman was firmly in her fifties. Her body was littered with scars that could pen her story but now all she could do was patiently wait. How she hated no longer being fit for active duty, her body faded with age and numerous injuries that had forced her onto the sidelines.

She had been hand-picked herself by the founders after the last bout in the hospital many prior whilst she was recovering from a lengthy and complex surgery. This had been a new lease of life, a way to serve her Country from the shadows. This operation was one of the few that the Founders had meticulously planned from the very beginning. Nothing had been left to chance. They trusted her to carry their secrets and ensure success with each of the missions.

When she had initially read through the Manila portfolio that was Operation 1814. She had laughed, confused by the need to secure a matrimonial match within the aristocracy. She pushed for answers only once. Only to meet with a gentle almost grandfatherly smile from the most senior of the founders Sir Theodore before he briefly spoke.

His words had stunned her into silence. To this day, she had never truly understood the meaning behind his wise words but she trusted his and other founders’ guidance.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------March 20th 1814

Your stomach felt as if it had been tied up in knots, as the sensation of being pulled through time and space slowly faded away. It was a bizarre and almost impossible sensation to put into words as your physical body was transported from one moment in history to the next.

It never was plain sailing, no matter how many times you had been through it. The nausea would dissipate in a few hours but the headache would linger on. You’d have to push through. Each person who used the method concocted by the Department suffered differently. Some found themselves unable to walk as their legs trembled, reduced to a feeling of being made of jelly. Others collapsed from complete and utter exhaustion, feeling as if they had been drained of all but a drop of energy.

You opened your eyes to find yourself standing in the middle of a wheat field as dawn crept over the horizon. Reds, Yellows and Oranges bled together as if they were upon an artist’s palette being blended for the next brush stroke on the canvas. 

Fragile dew drops clinging to blades of grass which had grown in between each of the shafts of wheat. It was as if you had wandered into a dream or one of the many fine oil paintings hung on the walls of a museum. 

These few precious moments were always when you could simply stand and enjoy your last moment to breathe and enjoy the stillness of the world as the sun rose to greet the day. A warmth seeped through, caressing and embracing you, the golden rays of sunlight danced through the treeline off in the distance. What a most wonderful morning indeed.

Remembering what you read before heading off to the hangar, you knew that the lead scout would meet you upon the hour of your arrival. Still dressed in your most comfortable combat fatigues, it was time to make a move before you were discovered by another.

The sound of approaching hooves alerted you to the small fact that you were no longer alone in the middle of nowhere. Was this a stranger or the scout? Concern rose within you but hearing your name shouted was enough to settle your nerves.

As the figure drew closer astride a chestnut brown mare, you tried to make out the finer features of what seemed to be the face of a scowling man beneath the hooded cloak. His dark gaze and blonde locks were barely hidden by the fur lining of the hood. He was dressed mostly finely for an early morning ride through the countryside and could easily mistaken for one of dime a dozen gentlemen just riding through but you knew better.

This was Lieutenant Commander Edward Wren, formerly of His Royal Majesty's armed forces. You had only met a handful of times but he was known for his dry wit and relentless professionalism. He could cut you to shreds with only a few words or a single look. This was not something you could easily forget. “Come, we have a few miles to ride and no time to waste” 

Once he was finished speaking, he leaned forward in the saddle, offering a hand to help pull you to be seated either in front or behind him. You reached to take his hand, ready for whatever might lie in store. This would be thrilling, no matter whatever waited for you down in good old London Town.

[iamlivingmusic]

Violet Sorrengail's Guide to Spinning a Scandal by/for @caeli0306

[spookystar29]

Hey Scandalfam / Gladiators

Imagine Liv wouldve been Mellie's mistress and Fitz weren't an asshole / knew about the rape

What would be scenes you'd like to read, have changed or added, etc?

[thekatebridgerton]

Okay, modern au where there's a scandal brewing and Anthony and Kate are in charge of minimizing the damage..

Okay what type of scandal are we talking Olivia Pope level of scandal ok let's go with that.

Lady Whistledown has published some very concerning text messages having to do with Olympic swimming medallist Benedict Bridgerton, in what looks to be a position of soliciting sex work services from his mother's secretary.

The press wants to know who is Sophia Beckett, how did she come to be Mrs Bridgerton PA. What's her past? Her family? Is she an undercover sex worker? Has Benedict Bridgerton been using his winnings from the Olympics to pay sex workers to come to him? What about his brother Senator Anthony Bridgerton? Will the rumors about Benedict affect his re election campaign?

Kate Sharma publicist for the Rich and famous has a headache, her best friend accidentally lost her phone during a press meeting and the next thing she knows Sophie is being hailed as the next Monica Lewinsky. The thing is that the text messages by themselves we're just part of a harmless filtration between Benedict and Sophie but the press isn't going to believe that especially not now that senator Anthony B is gunning for reelection

Which is why said senator called her in to fix the mess. Kate didn't know what to expect when she met the youngest senator in the Queen Charlotte party but it definitely wasn't a man who works out in the gym every morning while he answers emails. And has the most womanizer personality she has ever had the misfortune of encountering in a politician. In one word the senator who employed her is a rake.

He wants Kate to do damage control for his brother and his campaign Kate wants Anthony to stop flirting with anything that moves, and make Benedict clean up his 'bohemian' act while she handles Sophie's PR.

Anthony has never met a woman as infuriating as the pr girl Danbury just sent him, she's willful she's argumentative she doesn't listen to anything he says. Claiming that she knows better than him how to fix the situation she is intentionally stubborn and worse: she's insanely talented and attractive. He he doesn't know if he wants to kiss her or if he wants to kill her maybe both

Soon one too many verbal fights turn into more intimate moments behind closed doors. Kate and Anthony find themselves having hate sex that turns into anywhere anytime sex and may have a lot of feelings involved... Giving them their own scandal in the making.

Because what story would be more juicy than Senator Anthony Bridgerton having an affair with his PR manager. ( Who just happens to be the sister of a girl Anthony dated years ago. )

What about Kate, is she ready to succumb to temptation and give Anthony a chance? or will she cut her losses before it's too late

[spencers-library]

omg i cannot wait to binge this whole thing

 art by @multiverse-mxdness

story summary: Scandal! AU– your mentor, David Rossi, has recruited you to make Senator Aaron Hotchner the next President of the United States. Once described as a political nun, the Senator helps you see that maybe you can mix business and pleasure.

This fic contains conduct not suitable for minors. If you are under the legal age of consent in your country, please skip chapters marked on this list with an asterik (*). If you would like a safe for work adaptation, please DM me.

This fic updates on Tuesdays and Saturdays at roughly 5pm EST  is complete.

THE CAMPAIGN

Chapter One: The Job

Chapter Two: One Minute

Chapter Three: Inappropriate*

BONUS CHAPTER: Inappropriate (Aaron’s POV)

Chapter Four: Numbers

BONUS CHAPTER: An Hour*

Chapter Five: Michael

Chapter Six: Amendment*

Chapter Seven: Standstill

Chapter Eight: Election Night

THE PRESIDENCY

Chapter Nine: The Firm

Chapter Ten: Forty Eight

Chapter Eleven: Pressure

Chapter Twelve: Inauguration Day*

Chapter Thirteen: 100 Days In*

Chapter Fourteen: Camp David

Chapter Fifteen: Guess Who’s Coming to Dinner

Chapter Sixteen: Circles

Chapter Seventeen: The State of the Union

BONUS CHAPTER: Thanks a Lot

BEYOND THE WHITE HOUSE

Chapter Eighteen: After

Chapter Nineteen: It’s Handled

Chapter Twenty: Sweet Baby

Chapter Twenty One: Moving On

Chapter Twenty Two: Treading Water

Chapter Twenty Three: Worth Our While*

Chapter Twenty Four: Saved

Chapter Twenty Five: Spin

Chapter Twenty Six: 23 People

Chapter Twenty Seven: Arrangements

Chapter Twenty Eight: Still a Chance

Chapter Twenty Nine: The Funeral

Chapter Thirty: Catching Up

Chapter Thirty One: The Offer

Chapter Thirty Two: Bullshit

Chapter Thirty Three: Aegis

AND BACK AGAIN

Chapter Thirty Four: At the Pleasure of the President

Chapter Thirty Five: A Change of Clothes

Chapter Thirty Six: The Confession

Chapter Thirty Seven: The Complication

Chapter Thirty Eight: Back to Work

Chapter Thirty Nine: Doux Bebe

Chapter Forty: Camp David, Part II

Chapter Forty One: Open Up*

Chapter Forty Two: The Thing

Chapter Forty Three: Interference

Chapter Forty Four: A Woman Scorned

Chapter Forty Five: The Clock

Chapter Forty Six: A Zoo

BEGIN ANEW

Chapter Forty Seven: For Old Time’s Sake

Chapter Forty Eight: To Second Chances

Chapter Forty Nine: Out of Options

Chapter Fifty: Subcommittees

Chapter Fifty One: The Jugular

Chapter Fifty Two: Marlboros

Chapter Fifty Three: Chris Lawrence

Chapter Fifty Four: The True Story 

Chapter Fifty Five: Affirmations 

Chapter Fifty Six: Ironic

Chapter Fifty Seven: The White House Correspondents’ Dinner

Chapter Fifty Eight: Paper

Chapter Fifty Nine: AWOL 

Chapter Sixty: Epilogue 

[westerosoliviapope]

The Snake & the Wolf | Scandal Westeros

Sarella Sand x Robb Stark

Robb thought he'd outgrown his Wolf Blood; that maddening impulsiveness that occasionally drove his kin to folly. He assumed his time at war and his father’s death had permanently tempered it. He realized that night, with blinding, scorching heat pumping through his veins as he spread Sarella on the conference room table, that he was incorrect. The Wolf Blood had been there all along. Dormant. Reignited by a pair of piercing onyx eyes, a subtle Dornish drawl, and one of the most clever minds he’d ever encountered.

on AO3

[thinkatoryprocess]

I don’t know if you’ve ever seen the show Scandal with Kerry Washington but I could definitely see using that for a Romencken AU!

Yeah, I can totally see that. Roman would run things differently, I think, which would be fun, and I wouldn't want to follow anything explicitly to the point of it being a strict AU wedded to the show. Because frankly I think Roman and Mencken doing their own thing makes it hard to strictly fit them to anyone else's story.

(This aside from the Roman/Mencken Fleabag AU, which will still be different but also that's just a fetish-plus-love thing, I'm not even gonna pretend.)

[lunarcrown]

Happy birthday @opalwhisker !!! Here’s Bravo being a classic stubborn soggy see-through-shirt pest ~

[imnotditzy]

Captain Marvel doesn’t know what a normal death is

(TW: mentions of death, brief mentions of murder gang violence)

No but really if you ask a street rat, literal living lighting, a bunch of ancient immortal people and a really wise king from a bajillion years ago, why would a reasonable answer be an option?

Like Billy thinks that if you’re 60 one of your feet are in the grave. Why? Because that was the life expectancy in the 50s. He's also homeless so he’s already more exposed to crime anyway, I wouldn’t doubt he thinks death by “minding someone else’s business” is common enough to be recorded as such in its own category and not murder. Also, he literally fights supervillains who try to kill him everyday? His view is skewed so much, that the damage might be irreversible. 😭

Moving on, Marvel is literally sentient magic. They can’t die, and if they can it’s not a thing that’s very easy to come by. The amount of work it takes to even do the equivalent of a paper cut is excessive, the concept of them dying would take a lot to set in. And they are a lost cause when it comes to knowing what a normal death is. The only “normal” deaths they’ve really paid attention to are the deaths of the Champions…and none of them had anything close to a normal death. (One of them literally gets hacked in two 💀)

The acronym; do I even have to explain? All of them besides Solomon, Heracles and Achilles literally haven’t died. And literally no hero in Greek mythology dies normally. Solomon is the only one who’s died of natural and normal causes, but he was alive in the BCE. That is a long time ago.

Now, Combine all of them together and what do you get? Captain Marvel: someone who does not have a correct interpretation of typical death!

This would probably concern others around them. Especially the JL, because I feel like Captain would mention this randomly.

—

(Green Lantern [Hal] and Captain Marvel were sent to investigate a crime scene together and they stumble upon the body.)

Captain Marvel: Aw…seems like their time came. (Captain’s got a sympathetic but large smile.)

Green Lantern (looking down at the stabbed body): Um, Cap?

Captain: It’s a shame. But I guess nothing could be done…

Lantern: Captain, they were stabbed???

Captain: Oh, I know. Happens to the best of people, right?

Lantern: Uh —No? Captain this is…worrying??

Captain: They’re in a better place now. Maybe.. ☺️

—

(They’re now back at the watchtower for a debrief, but it somehow turned into Batman questioning Captain Marvel.)

Batman: Captain can you explain why the body was not concerning to you?

(Batman’s staring at Captain intensely.)

Captain (confused smiling): …because there was nothing to worry about?

Batman (raising an eyebrow): Why?

Captain (hesitant): Because there’s probably not a serial killer or whatever running around? They killed an insider, it was gang violence.

Batman: How were you sure?

(Captain looks up to the side like their remembering before shrugging)

Captain: …Oh, I’ve seen similar bodies like that before.

—

(This occurrence is reason #5738 on why Captain Marvel cannot interact with civilians. But in Captain’s defense, how was Billy supposed to know lifespans updated?)

Captain Marvel (pointing at an “old” lady): Oh, she’s 62?

Citizen: Yeah?

Captain (sympathetic): Oh. It’s good she’s still on her feet though.

Citizen: What?

Captain: She’s thriving for her age, right?

Citizen: C—Captain Marvel, she’s 60 not 99. She just retired.

Captain (confused): Really? Why would they have her working so long if she’s nearing the end? (The lady turns around with this expression on her face: 😟)

Citizen: Because she wanted to?? Captain are you ageist?

Captain (never heard that word a day in his life): Uh, I don’t think so? What does that even mean??

(The media later somehow gets ahold of the footage and it becomes such a scandal it reaches the JL; Captain Marvel is then forced to have a public statement. At the giant press conference, Mary and Freddy are there standing next to him and laughing.)

Captain Marvel (whispering): Shut up, it’s not like you thought any different.

Miss Marvel (also whispering): Yeah but we’re not stupid enough to say it to their face, Captain.

Captain Marvel (still whispering): It’s not like you guys would have any less scandals than I do if you were in the media as much as I am.

Reporter (impatiently): Ahem. Marvels?

(Both siblings look like deer in headlights while Freddy laughs at them. They both apologize in unison.)

(Captain then clears their throat, they look like they’re dreading this.)

Captain Marvel: I am terribly sorry for what I said about [62yo citizen]. I hadn’t intended to be rude, but I seemed as such because I had a gap in my…

Solomon (telling him what to say): …Knowledge. I was under the assumption that the average lifespan wasn’t much longer than a person’s 60s…

Captain (repeating what Solomon’s saying): I now know that, while once true, that information is outdated.

(Billy went on for three more minutes, only stopping because the DTC got too bored and people were starting to give him funny looks.)

[joydoesathing]

"Yes, Your Majesty. I cut out my heart for you."

So, yeah, the conspiracy theorist ending of campaign mode 😀

(inspo for the screen cap)

[badly-gravity-blog]

Small drawing of an au I’m lovin’ !

It’s between wolf Bill x deer Dipper, I love that for them. ( i have a bunch of comics planned !!! Im completely okay about them !! )

[solargeist]

sry i . Sorry Hi

[miguxadraws]

same situation, different context

demon and nun AU by @spitinsideme

[spookystar29]

What if Mellie had told Fitz about the rape? What if he had tried his best to be supportive, to help her, but it wasn't enough?

Until Olivia came along, and proved to be of major help, not only for the campaign ...

My take on how Mellivia could have worked out without anyone of them being the culprit or asshole

[xx-akubara-xx]

Prisoner: Page 26

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PILLOW FIGHT-

And to be perfectly clear- nothing nefarious is being implied here. And Luigi - despite everything, still feels protective of her as they had been friends for some time.

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Next

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MasterPost of Comics

[westerosoliviapope]

Warrior in a Suit | Scandal Westeros

Sarella Sand x Robb Stark

"I've made my choice."

His lips traced a torturous trail up her shoulder, punctuating with a nip of teeth that made her swallow a moan. Not that it did any good. Her hips were already canting up, seeking friction from his zipper.

"Robb…" She willed herself to focus. To be authoritative. But her voice was something between a keen and whimper. "This," she emphasized, "isn't the choice."

There had been three photos on the desk: Desmera Redwyne, Roslin Frey, and Dr. Talisa Maegyr. Were he in his right mind, he'd pick the doctor—an olive-skinned stunner on track to lead the pediatric surgery department at Mudd Memorial. But he'd cleared the desk in a single swipe and placed her on top of it.

"The fuck it isn't."

Then he pressed his clothed body between her legs, giving her exactly what she needed, and she wasn't in her right mind either.

"This," he rocked into the answering swivel of her hips, "is where I want to be. This…" His mouth found hers in a heated tangle of tongues that invited her to take more of him, as much as she could stand.

"This is real. I'll play pretend when I'm finished."

on AO3