#in her case specifically i know she wants to drop that entire part of her life so yea

[straycalamities]

this gonna sound dumb but who’s Swags mod? I was wondering if ur his mod like someone who has ownership over him but has a mod 😭 IM SORRY IF THIS SOUNDS DUMB all I know is you’re the mod of Entre and other mods with their characters, just been trying to figure out for Swags

swag has had multiple mods in the past, but his two main ones haven't touched him in years (afaik) the one in charge of truffula flu is @/starxapple and the one mainly in charge for thneedville/thornville high is @/miaoumint

both of them have run his main blog extensively @/ask-swag-onceler

strapple has long since entirely retired from him/being his mod and that's why you see me running around carrying trufflu!swag over my head like a maniac bc i've basically adopted him officially? i guess? if you wanna call it like that

[retroellie]

Mile-high club

Summary: After a month of not having sex, you decide to be bold with what you want from spencer. Stepping out of both your comfort zones due to complete sexual frustration.

A/N: This one is a bit rushed, but can y'all tell what my faviote spencer era is? Like i love long haired spencer i can not! Also yall... I just turned 19 :) So that's a little life update lmao. Anyways love and miss y'all!!

Warnings: NSFW, public sex and dirty talk

Word count: 5.4K

As with any other case, this case dragged on and on until you felt you were nothing but skin and bones. Cases always left you feeling so empty inside, always so bleak... it always took you a bit to come back to your natural self. The first rule of being a part of the FBI is never to take it personally, don't take it to heart. But how could you not? You're inviting yourself into these people's lives, picking apart their brains, and using that to your advantage. You knew it was for the best but that didn't mean you had to like it.

You were doing what you normally did after cases, drinking hot tea on the jet aching for the sweet release of sleep. This time, however, you weren't aching for sleep. This entire week there was a thought always in the back of your mind, you weren't sure why it was this case specifically but for some reason, the thought lingered. Spencer... You felt yourself heating up every time around him, focusing only on his hands when he was showing you paperwork or squeezing your thighs together as you watched his hips. You had never been the needy one in the relationship, it has always been Spencer... but something about him now left you hungry. You racked it off to just you being hormonal, but you knew it was because Spencer's hands hadn't been on you for a while. Back-to-back cases like these always left no time to get down with Spencer... one downside to this job among many.

Even now, while sitting on the jet, you could only look at him. Emily and JJ were talking about god knows what, while you started across the jet to see your little Spencer. He was reading, his hands so delicately following as he read... His hair had gotten long, almost touching his shoulders now. You had gotten real used to pulling on it, sometimes subconsciously doing it as you hugged him. You started to think about how he looked last time you made him whimper, the picture burnt into your brain as you slid yourself up and down until he begged you to stop. "too much...." was all he could muster up, his wrist rubbing against the rope as he so badly wanted to reach up to touch you.

"You hear Y/N?" You heard a voice say, your heart dropping as you whipped your head towards it.

The voice belonged to Emily, her eyebrow raised as she wondered what you were thinking. She could see that something was up and not just because she was a profiler. Anyone who could see how you were looking at Spencer could see exactly how you were feeling, sexually frustrated. The way you gripped onto your coffee mug, and bit the inside of your lip roughly... basically eye fucked Spencer. Obviously, you could never tell Emily how you were thinking about Spencer being so pussy drunk that it physically hurt him. So you just sent a smile over to her, brought your tea to your lips, and nodded.

"Yeah! Sorry..." You kept the grin on your face, your embarrassment getting the best of you as you began to become flustered. "Just a bit distracted today."

You flicked your eyes between my cup and Emily, not wanting to make too much eye contact in the state you were in, your state being extremely turned on. It was gross to even admit, but even just looking at Spencer... your body reacted. Emily looked over at JJ, shooting her a look. You caught onto this, but not sure what that look even meant. JJ just chuckled softly, shifting herself in her chair. You looked between them, feeling as though you were left out of a really funny inside joke of theirs. Emily looked back at you, giving you a smirk.

"I can see that..." She leaned back in her chair, hands placed on her stomach as she read your confusion. "Been a while?"

Her words confused you, not sure what she meant by that. You now started feeling like you were the butt of the joke, feeling like you did in high school when girls would giggle behind you. "Been a while." Could mean anything, has it been a while since you showered? Has it been a while since you ate? Has it been a while since you went to a concert? The possibilities were endless yet Emily still expected an answer. You furrowed your brows, cocking your head to the side.

"What?" You asked, genuinely needing an explanation before you could even answer her question. Emily chuckled once again, looking back at Spencer before huddling herself closer to you as if she had to tell you a huge secret.

"You and Spencer?" That was all she said.

Your heart dropped, was Emily a mind reader? or were you just that frustrated that it was written on your skin? Her words made you think, however, how long has it been? It was definitely before this case and the one before it... then there was that 4-day conference y'all were forced to attend, well then that one week you got your period and didn't feel like doing anything but laying in bed... You would say it's been a good month, maybe a little more. This was definitely not normal for you two, sex was like food to the two of you. It was y'alls way to destress from cases, it became so normal to go home after a long case and bang it out. Trust and believe this drought had been taking a toll on you, you were so horny that you could start humping Spencer's leg at any moment, just like a dog in heat.

You hesitated to answer, not wanting to cross that boundary with Emily but also not wanting to be humiliated. You were the more private person when it came to the BAU, you would come in and do your work... that's it. Obviously, you were a part of the BAU family, you knew everyone's business and you would hang out with them outside of work. But you were a mystery to everyone there, well except Spencer, he had quite literally known you inside and out. As of right now though, you were frustrated and in need of a rant so that boundary didn't exist for you today.

"Is it that noticeable?" You said sarcastically, scoffing as you did so. You hated the feeling of being easily read, but the frustration was sloshing around inside you so it was only a matter of time before the people around you figured it out. Emily chuckled softly, looking over at JJ before she spoke.

"I mean you have been grouchy, you're not focused, and well..." Emily paused, she was now reading you like a book. "You've been undressing Spencer with your eyes this entire trip."

You wanted to melt into the ground, and let the worms use your flesh as food. You were embarrassed, completely and utterly ashamed of her words. You were acting like a starved man, only able to focus on the mere thought of food... like a complete glutton-driven man. You never really knew how much you needed sex, you started to wonder if you always had this need deep inside you. You remember before Spencer, you went months without an orgasm and was perfectly fine. Maybe it was Spencer, maybe his cock switched something on inside your pussy... or maybe other men hadn't been doing it right.

You felt your cheeks heat up but at the same time, your body ran cold. All you could do was watch as Emily snickered at your reaction, like your embarrassment was the funniest thing she had ever seen. You were much younger than Emily and JJ, you were newer to this world and newer to sex than they were. Trust and believe that both women have had their share of droughts, so this is not new to them. They weren't trying to embarrass you or make you feel you needed to be ashamed. No, they just found it amusing that you were so blinded to the fact you were so obvious with your motives. Let's just say your subtle touches and comments towards Spencer weren't so subtle.

"I just..." You start, your voice sounding as though you were pouting and honestly... you were pouting. "It used to be every day! Every night, after work... like clockwork! But this stupid fucking job is getting in the way of us, I mean sex is how we communicate!"

Your voice is rising, alerting the sleeping Derek who sat right behind you. He was too tired to even comprehend what you were talking about, which surprised you because he always teased you and Spencer about your sex life. The girls didn't laugh this time, only watched as you looked like you were going crazy. They didn't realize how upset you were about this, this felt it went far beyond sex to you. It did in some sense, as said before you and Spencer were always having sex so if there was no sex happening... there was no and him happening either. This could turn into a therapy session, you could cry about how you felt ignored and put aside but it wasn't that at all... you were just so horny for Spencer, this frustration building up and ready to burst. JJ sighed softly, patting you on the shoulder.

"I get it... I mean we get it." She points between her and Emily, shooting Emily a smile. "Y/N... You need to have sex or you're going to go insane."

Emily nods, agreeing with JJ's clear over-exaggeration. You felt like you were already going insane, you couldn't do anything without the thought of Spencer's cock down your throat completely eliminating your focus. So although it was clear JJ was being dramatic about it, you felt it was pretty accurate for the feeling inside you. You let out a sigh, pushing your hair back as you leaned back in your chair. You have been at this job for 4 years, and insanity came with the job, so this feeling of complete and utter insanity due to not having sex was killing you simply because it was so new to you.

"Trust me, I know." Was all you said, biting your lip softly as your eyes flicked over to Spencer once more.

He was now leaning back in his chair, his thighs slightly opened as his hands were placed on them delicately. He was looking out the window, watching the clouds go by as the sun started to set. You couldn't help but look at his veiny hands placed so pretty on his thighs, you suddenly gained tunnel vision and your eyes started to outline his cock. Spencer sensed you looking at him, the hairs on the back of his neck standing up as he turned his head. He made eye contact with you, sending you a soft smile. Talk about the straw that broke the camel's back, that opened the floodgates inside of you.

"You know what you should do?" JJ asked, trying to get your attention, and in only milliseconds... she had it. "You need to make him want it, it's what I used to do with Will all the time when I was pregnant, and believe me pregnancy hormones are no joke."

How does one go about making someone want them? You were no stranger in the teasing scene, it was your favorite thing to do with Spencer. But you haven't even had 2 seconds to tease him since the drought started, so you were a bit out of practice. Spencer would usually be a puddle on the floor you stepped on in seconds when you teased him, but he was so stressed that he couldn't tell his ass from his head sometimes. You were more than willing to know how JJ did it, and how she made men want her in times of desperation. 

"How?" You ask, feeling slightly more embarrassed by your sudden confusion. JJ thinks for a second, looking over at Emily for her to pitch in at any moment.

"There's many ways to do it, all people are different Y/N" Emily chuckled, looking over at JJ who was still thinking about how she even managed to seduce Will like she did. "My advice is just be overly affectionate with him, you know? Touch him more, show a little more skin, laugh louder... Just make it known, be loud with it."

You took in her words, especially the "make it known" and "be loud with it". You felt you could do that, with how frustrated you had become you could see yourself screaming for him to just fuck you. It would be a bit hard because Spencer is kind of not good with social cues, if you try to flirt with him sometimes, he just throws statistics your way. You repeated the words "make it known" in your head, how could you make it known... at that moment as you repeated it in your head like a mantra, you had such a devilish idea. Your hands almost started shaking due to excitement, the feeling taking over your body as you went to speak.

"I can do that..." You said with a smile, standing up from your seat and fixing your shirt. "I need to use the restroom, be right back."

You basically ran to the bathroom, zooming past Spencer who was quite confused at your sudden rush. You locked yourself in the small bathroom, the excitement taking over your body as you could see yourself start doing handstands due to excitement. You pulled out your phone, setting yourself on the small counter sink as you started to pull your shirt off. You weren't sure how to do this, your nerves getting the best of you as you clicked on your camera. You had no time to think, you just pulled your shirt off and aimed your camera at your chest.

The first one was more of a softcore nude, only in your bra as your hand laid on your chest. You took a couple of pictures with your bra on, then you clicked through them, deleting the ones you didn't like. You would've stopped there but you wanted to go the extra mile, you were "being loud" with it as Emily would say. You pulled your bra off, watching it fall to the floor, the nerves in your stomach only fooling you to go further. You pointed the camera at your chest, snapping a couple of pictures. Again, you weren't good at this... you never claimed to be, so you took pictures from multiple angles and positions. Some you were squeezing them together, some you weren't.... you weren't a model or a photographer so you were working with what you had.

You finished, hopping down from the sink and putting your clothes back on. You sat on the lidded toilet, scrolling through the pictures as you picked the ones you would send. You were nervous to say the least, you knew it was just Spencer but you had never taken sex outside of the bedroom before. This was new, this was scary... this was so arousing. You clicked on Spencer's name, his name being "spencie poop" In your phone, you clicked on the pictures you wanted and hovered over the send button. Would this work? what if he isn't into it as much as you are? What were you even doing?

"Make it known. be loud with it." You repeated in your head, closing your eyes before clicking the send button. It took only seconds for it to send the anticipation building in your stomach. You decided to stay sitting in the toilet for a little longer, getting yourself together before you faced the world behind the small bathroom door. You knew Spencer wouldn't see the pictures until later on, knowing that he always put his phone on silent as he hated technology, especially when it interrupted his reading time. You wondered how he would react, knowing that Spencer didn't know how to react to most things. You wouldn't be surprised if Spencer sent you a thumbs up and a message saying how pretty you look, you weren't sure this would even work in your favor.

You gathered yourself, breathing in and out before you stood up to leave the bathroom. As you reached for the door, there was a small knock on it. You assumed it was someone who needed to use the bathroom, you had been in there for a good 15 minutes before you decided to leave. You reached for the door, opening it... Your heart dropped, your entire body went hot and your underwear became wetter than before. It was Spencer, his face was bright red and his hands shook softly. He didn't give you time to even open the door all the way before he barged into the small bathroom with you, shutting and locking the door behind you.

"Are you crazy?" He whispered, hoping no one else saw him or heard him come in. You were pressed against the sink, Spencer pressed against you as the small bathroom was not made for two. "Are you trying to get me in trouble? what if someone had seen?"

Spencer looked upset but his hard cock against your stomach gave his true feelings away. Spencer could never be mad at you, you knew this and you took advantage of it often. Unfortunately, Spencer was very by the books, he followed all the rules but when it came to you... rules didn't exist. So he wasn't actually upset about the pictures, he was just frustrated you decided to send them now. While Hotch was sitting right next to him, a clear shot of his phone and everything. You bit your lip softly, your eyes being pulled toward his cock rubbing against your belly, there was no hiding that in this small compact area.

"Seems like you liked them.." You teased softly, chuckling out as you looked up at him with doe eyes.

Spencer could have come then and there, your innocence creating a deep desire within him. He let out a sigh, his breath panning across your face as he did so smelling of coffee and mint. You brought your hand up to his tie, fiddling with it softly as you stood on your tiptoes, trying to come face-to-face with him. Spencer's breath hitched as your lips brushed his own, his mind going foggy and forgetting where he was in the moment... Something inside him though reminded him, the small voice in the back of his head telling him this was a bad idea and the team was only feet away from you both. As you started to undo his belt, He grabbed onto your shoulders, pushing you back softly.

"Y/N, that was extremely inappropriate..." He said sternly, trying not to give in to your pleading eyes. "Hotch was right next to me an..."

His words were cut off by your hand grasping his cock softly. In the short time, he had been scolding you, you managed to stuff your hand down his pants, Spencer was far too focused on trying to not give into your motives he didn't even realize. Spencer became putty just then, your hand rubbing his cock slowly cutting his iq down by 100. You knew this was also a horrible idea, I mean were you really going to let your twisted, horny mind risk your job? The answer was, yes... yes you were. If it meant that Spencer would be inside of you, then you would do anything.

"I know baby... I've been so bad." You whispered out, your hand still wrapped around his cock. You fluttered your eyes up at him, watching as his ability to control himself slowly disappeared. "But I had to! it's been so long, you have me all worked up and it's starting to hurt."

You rub his cock softly, his own eyes fluttering shut as you turn him into putty. Spencer hadn't even realized how long it had been, he didn't have much time to think about anything but work nowadays. He didn't realize it until he almost came in your hand just from a few pumps. His body had heated up, his cheeks red as you slid your thumb across his tip. His head was foggy but he still couldn't get past the thought that his boss was just outside the small bathroom you both had been in. He stiffened himself up again, putting a hand on your wrist.

"Y/N, the team is inches away from us." He spoke, pulling your hands from his pants and doing up his belt again. "I promise you I will let you do whatever when we get home to make up for these last couple of weeks okay?"

Trust and believe that it took Spencer his entire self-control to say no to you, especially after seeing those pictures. Your half-naked body, the way you looked up at the camera for him. He wasn't sure if he would be able to get his cock to soften after knowing those pictures existed, he knew this was going to be a long trip home. He struggled with getting his belt looped, his hands shook so vigorously that they were no help to him. You finally reached your hand out to stop his hands, reaching up to lift his head to look up at you.

"Spencer, if you tell me to stop right now... I will." You spoke, you were frustrated and it was so obvious you both needed this. "I will stop and we can walk out of here like nothing happened okay? I just need you to say "I want this to stop." and that's it, I'll stop. But all i need is 5 minutes, I'll get us both off and no one will even notice.``

Spencer thought for a moment, seeing how serious you were. He knew you would never force him to do anything, so he knew if he really did tell you to stop, you would. but he really didn't want you to stop, his "professional FBI agent" side told him to stop but his "love drunk" side didn't want you to stop. All he could think about was your pictures and how uncomfortable this boner was going to be for the rest of the plane ride if he didn't just flat-out fuck you.

He tried to calculate just how far away the team was from the two of you and what the chances of them hearing the two of you were. He came up with it being 72% they won't hear the two of you, due to the fact the bathroom is a bit insulated and most of the team liked to sit far from the bathroom. You could see him doing this math in his head just by the look on his face, you chuckled to yourself knowing this was a complete Spencer Reid thing. Spencer struggled internally, both his logical and hormonal sides butting heads just as he looked down at you with those pretty doe eyes you kept giving him. Spencer was going to burst, the month of no sex finally catching up to him all at once.

"Fuck it..." He said right before crashing his lips onto yours.

Now Spencer Reid must have really been frustrated as he never used words like that, but something about you just sent him over the edge each time. You kissed him back immediately, his hands kept your mouth on him as his tongue slid into your mouth. It was all so fast-paced, just like you said it would be... you just needed five minutes. You reached down to his half-done belt and started undoing it once more, trying to focus on his lips and your hands at the same time. Spencer was so completely engulfed in the kiss that he couldn't even contemplate helping you at all, he just pressed you against the sink hinting at you to hop on it.

You positioned yourself on the sink, Spencer's hands going to your ass to prevent you from falling into it. You finally got his pants undone, pulling them down so only his cock could bounce free causing a soft groan to fall from his lips. You smirked softly into the kiss, feeling just as hard he had gotten just from your little "fight".

"Really liked them huh?" You said through the kiss, Spencer just kissed you harder trying to get you to shut up.

You just laughed softly, your hands now going to your own pants to take them off. You struggled with your pants, trying to keep Spencer's mouth satisfied with your mouth while also trying to get out of your very tight pants. Spencer noticed this, pulling away from you to help you slide your pants down your thighs and watching them bunch up on your ankles. As soon as they were out of the way, Spencer didn't even bother with your panties, he just pushed them to the side and slid himself into you.

"Fuc.." Was all he could get out before he stuffed his face into your neck, silencing his moans that were bound to come out.

Your eyes immediately rolled to the back of your head, gripping onto his shoulders for support. You felt whole again, his cock sliding inside of you like it never left. Spencer didn't sit still for long before he started thrusting inside of you, his hands gripping your hips roughly. Spencer's thrust started rough and fast, taking your word for it only taking 5 minutes. To avoid suspicion and losing your job, you both needed to hurry up and get off.

You couldn't help but get lost in the feeling, finally after weeks of needing to be fucked and it's actually happening plus the feeling of getting caught only added to the pleasure. You thrust back into Spencer, lifting your hips off the counter just to slam your own hips into his. It went like this for minutes, both of you breathing heavily and using each other's bodies to get off. Suddenly you felt a knot inside of your form, your hands moving up to his hair to pull on it to alert him.

"Gonna cum... fuck gonna cum." You whispered into his ear, as his face was still stuffed between your neck and your shoulder. He was afraid if he replied, he was going to not be able to control the moans that came from his throat.

He just thrusted faster, his hand coming up to rest on the mirror as you both were being pushed further and further up onto the sink so the faucet was almost digging into your back. He let out a couple of soft whimpers as his thrust became sloppier, his eyes tearing up as his cock twitched. He'd never come this fast before, only besides the first few times you both had fucked, but this was a record and it was clear he had become so backed up that this was definitely needed.

He came first, coating the inside of your walls with his hot cum, fucking himself through his own orgasm as well as coaxing you to your own. You came only moments later, the feeling of his warm breath on your neck and his hot cum inside of you... you broke. You came with a soft moan and your nails digging into his shoulders. It wasn't the best orgasm he had ever given you but it was so needed, it felt like you had been given water after days of dehydration.

As said before, you needed to be quick so after a few seconds of recovering from ecstasy, you both were pulling your clothes back on. It felt dirty in a way, aftercare, and soft kisses weren't a luxury you had at the moment. You watched as he pulled his pants back on, once again struggling with his belt. You realized how lighter and rested he looked now like the quickie was the thing he was missing his entire life. You chuckled softly, moving your hands down to his belt to help him loop it through.

"Guess we just joined the mile-high club huh?" You smirked up at him, his face still red with lust. Spencer chuckled softly, watching as your hands fixed his belt.

Spencer was almost embarrassed that he allowed you to sit high and dry for almost a month straight, he hadn't even thought of touching you that entire time. Although his mind had been elsewhere the entire time, it still felt wrong for a person to completely deny you of anything. Spencer felt he needed sex as much as you did, something he would have never thought he would ever need. He now understands why Morgan is the way he is, the constant need to feel that closeness to someone... to feel so vulnerable, especially in a job where vulnerability is a weakness. You noticed that Spencer had been in his head again, he always just had that look to him.

"You okay?" You asked, your hands now fixing his hair slightly. "I didn't push a boundary did i?"

Spencer shook his head almost immediately, the feeling of any discomfort so far away it wasn't even there. Spencer felt completely comfortable with you, even if it was such a weird situation to be in. He just got into his own head a lot, letting his mind wander and making up all kinds of assumptions about things. The assumption on his mind right now was that maybe having a healthy, functioning relationship in this field was almost impossible. You both hadn't had a single conversation that wasn't about a case or coffee or anything that didn't involve the office, in weeks. Could you both go on like that or are you both destined to just have quickies in the jet bathroom for the rest of your careers.

"No! Of course not!" He breathed out, basking in your soft hands touching his face softly, something you had done to comfort him. "Just wanted to say sorry for being so distant lately, didn't know you were feeling this...ignored?"

He wasn't sure what the right word to use was and honestly, you didn't know either. You weren't actually angry with him, just frustrated especially when your only kind of stress release was coming home and fucking him till he cried. You continued to rub his cheek softly with your thumb, pushing his hair back from his face.

"I'm not mad honey." You chuckled, trying to reassure him that he did nothing wrong. "Just please start checking in with me okay? So the feelings don't build up and we have to risk our jobs again."

Your joke caused Spencer to crack a smile, his laugh filling the small bathroom. He nodded, leaning down to set a soft kiss on your lips. The reality started to sit in however, you both just fucked on the job basically and the embarrassment and shame were written all over both of you. You both had only been gone for 15ish minutes so it was going to be an easy lie to come up with, you'll probably blame it on your motion sickness that you actually feel often on the jet. You both agreed on a story, you had gotten sick and asked Spencer to hold your hair back, easy enough. You went to open the door, taking a breath before facing your team again.

"Hey y/n?" Spencer spoke, stopping you in your tracks before you opened the door. You gave him your full attention, turning to see his eyes once again filled the lust. "I did like them...You should definitely start, you know I'm...Sending them more often."

You let out a soft chuckle, rolling your eyes before walking out of the bathroom. You both nonchalantly went back to your seats, as if nothing happened. JJ and Emily were talking about something when you got back, completely lost in conversation to realize what had just happened. You looked around at everyone, trying to see an inch of disgust or knowing on their faces. Fortunately, everyone was oblivious to the events that happened in the bathroom so you could relax in your seat. You tried to listen in on JJ and Emily's conversation, putting your two cents in here and there but your eyes kept flicking over to Spencer. He was now boring his eyes into your skin, making your body heat up once again. You could tell that what was supposed to be a simple quickie, was definitely not over yet and it was going to be a long trip home. 

[makelemonade]

Both the parts for people finding out we're dating the characters are so good! Can I please request you to include Wriothesley in the next part if you're writing it?

how people find out you’re dating them

Wriothesley, Capitano

Wriothesley

ONCE AGAIN THESE GODDAMN MELUSINES

Most specifically SIGEWINNE.

she’s such a cutie patootie. you just wanna eat her up whenever you see her! Sigewinne, the adorableness she is, is not the smartest.

Whenever you come down so often to come visit Wriothesely, she comments on how you are such a good friend to always keep him company! and you just can’t bear to explain to her that is not the case!

This goes on for A MONTH. A GODDAMN MONTH and she has not figured it out.

Even when she bursts into his office to find you maybe massaging his back, arms, hugging him, holding him- she is completely OBLIVIOUS to the point Wriothesly wants to test out kissing you in front of her.

However, her obliviousness comes to a stop one day and for the stupidest yet funniest reason;

He’s not drinking his tea.

She’s shocked. Like jaw dropped, absolutely still shocked. She’s constantly trying to get him to drink or EAT anything other than tea so when she sees him with a MILKSHAKE?! A FUCKING MILKSHAKE.

She’s ready to lose her shit.
and then she sees YOU with the opposite flavour milkshake and she immediately knows and screams it out for the ENTIRE prison to hear.

A prisoner comes in injured; “Have you heard Wriothesly and Y/N are together?!”

On her next vacation, she’s running to Neuvillette, Furina, Clorinde- EVERYONE.

Well, it was a month of peace.

Capitano

It’s funny because he genuinely isn’t even trying to hide it from the Harbingers.

He doesn’t not tell them because he’s worried for your safety- he’s the fourth fucking harbinger he will GLADLY beat anyone’s ass for you even if it means it’s his own coworkers.

The man just doesn’t talk. That’s literally why no one knows. Like yeah, he’ll murmur a few words every now and then but like, he doesn’t see a reason in bringing something up if someone doesn’t mention anything related so he stays quiet.

He does talk a bit more though, and he’s willing to actually sit with the harbingers whenever they sometimes hang out.

It’s weirding them out.

The weirdest thing though,

WEIRDEST.

Is when he speaks to Childe.

Even Childe is absolutely shocked- like what do you mean the guy he’s been like practically simping over fight wise is actually soeaking to him?!?!!!

They have to ask Pierro if he’s sick, and even Pierro doesn’t know and Pierro is the ONLY one capitano talks.

They literally find out from YOU.

You walked into the castle once, being escorted by a guard who is quick to leave once he’s finally let you reach the insides of the castle.

“Sorry to disturb,” You spoke nervously, somehow ending up in some sort of lounge room with the Harbingers. “I’ve brought lunch for my…boyfriend? Uh, Capitano? Do you know where I could find him?”

“Yeah, down the hall, first room on the left.” Arlecchino murmurs, reading through the latest Snezhnaya newspapers.

You smile at her, although she doesn’t see and everyone just returns back to normal.

Until they all realize WHO the hell are you and BOYFRIEND?!?

They all give each other a look before they are RUNNING to you, ready to ask questions and capitano is shocked when suddenly all the Harbingers are in his office and he knew he wouldn’t be able to stop them from questioning you on everything.

He likes the way you laugh at them all- it’s cute. He should bring you more often.

follow me on Twitter!; @II_makelemonade

[starlightandsouls]

Yours To Have, Yours to Break

Summary: What if instead of Nesta, Cassian found out about Azriel and his secret lover. What will happen when the hearty general, in his anger of being left out, causes his brother's happiness to fall apart? How will he atone for his mistake?

A/N: Of course I had to make my comeback with the angstiest angst to ever angst. And that too by turning my fluffiest fic into pure pain. I guess you can say that this this is a spin off of Yours to Keep and Cherish. Also... I know I dropped off the face of the earth but life happens guys. I'm sorta back and here's a fic to make up for it.

Disclaimer: If you're an Elain fan, I would recommend you not read this. I would hate to ruin your day. I do not hate Elain. This is just an idea I got from all the soap dramas I've been seeing recently. Don't kill me please.

Also this shit and not edited. But I was so desperate to post something that I honestly don't care. Hope y'all like it. And yes there will be a part 2

Cassian POV:

As the General of the Night Court’s armies, Cassian had many duties: training soldiers, commandeering battalions at the borders, coming up with war strategies, buying romance novels for his mate and her friends. He wasn’t sure when the last one made its way on his list of responsibilities, or who put it there, but there it was. And who was Cassian to deny his mate?

So that’s how the Lord of Bloodshed found himself standing aimlessly in the middle of the Rainbow, scratching his head, with a list in his hand. Nesta had sent him off to find the newest edition of a Sellyn Drake novel but he hadn’t the slightest idea where to find it. His mate had instructed him to visit a particular bookshop named “The Quill”, being sure that they would have the newest book. Unfortunately, because luck had named him its nemesis at birth, the bookshop was closed for the day. He had asked around and apparently the owner had just left an hour prior to his arrival. Of course, they had.

That is why he had been wandering around the Rainbow, walking into one bookshop after the other, but somehow not one of them had the book Nes wanted. What are the odds of that? How is it possible that only one bookshop in the entire city had this specific book? And why did it have to be closed today? Cassian knew returning empty handed would not only incur the wrath of his beloved mate, but also her Valkyrie sisters. And given the fact that he himself had been teaching them some new disarming techniques, he had no desire to become their training dummy.

While he did not intend on stopping his hunt, he was quite parched. As the summer season approached, afternoons in Velaris became increasingly sweltering. A chilled glass of wine would do just the trick to cool him down, and also relax his nerves. Just as he was deciding on which bar to stop at, he remembered a conversation he had had with Mor the other day. She had told him about a café she had discovered that served the best margaritas during lunch time. Honestly, she hadn’t stopped raving about it for almost a week. What the hell. He was already out in town, might as well try a new place. If it turned out to be good, he could bring Nesta to placate her in case he couldn’t find her book.

Mind made up, he took off to the air, the subtle breeze as he did so, instantly making him feel better. Gliding through the clouds, the twists and turns with wind, were always a guaranteed way of cooling down.

Said café was perched on a hill overlooking the Sidra. He took in the view and the lush gardens outside the café as he landed, and started to walk in. The interior was just as beautiful as the exterior; the décor a blend of elegance and coziness. Oh yeah, he was definitely bringing Nesta here for a date.

He had just given his order to a waitress who looked way too giddy writing it down. Thank the Mother Nesta wasn’t here. Or someone might as well have lost a hand.

Although this is one of the reasons why he didn’t like coming to restaurants and bars alone. Not having company meant he didn’t have anyone to share his stories and jokes with. So, as he waited for his order to arrive, he sat back and took in the people around him; a habit that looked casual enough but was one instilled in him during his years training in the Illyrian camps.

He had been admiring the view from the balcony in the corner when his order arrived. Smiling a thank you, he took a sip from his margarita and damn was it good as Mor had said. He made a silent note to himself to thank her for the recommendation. He was in the middle of another deliciously cold sip, when something caught his eye in the corner of the room, causing him to choke.

What. The. Fuck.

Cassian was sure he looked like a blubbering fish with how his jaw dropped open and his eyes bulged out their sockets. He had to be dreaming or hallucinating from the heat. Yes, that must have been it, the heat had surely gotten to his head. For Cassian could think of no other explanation for the sight in front of him.

His brother, the Shadowsinger of the Night Court, torture extraordinaire, was sitting hand in hand with a beautiful young woman, smiling like a love-sick fool and… eating macarons? Since when did Azriel like deserts? Or the more pressing question: who the hell was he sitting with? Cassian knew his brother liked to keep his lovers secret, but deep down his gut told him this was no mere fling, or one-night stand. For starters, Azriel was smiling like a puppy drunk on love, while bringing the lady’s hand up to his lips to kiss. Cauldron. Just as Cassian had somewhat stopped gawking like a fish out of water, he saw the lady lean over and whisper something across the table, causing Azriel to throw his head back and let out a hearty laugh.

Although he couldn’t explain why, but at that moment Cassian felt a sharp hurt go through him. For he could not remember the last time Azriel had laughed like that with them. Damn it, he couldn’t even remember the last time he had seen Azriel nearly as much as was doing now at any family function.

Before he could even begin to process what had unfolded before him, he saw Azriel pay the bill for their food and the couple walked out hand in hand. Immediately Cassian was on his feet, ready to follow them. If someone had asked him why he did what he did at a later moment, he would not have been able to explain himself. At that moment, Cassian was driven only by curiosity and a minor note of hurt too-why had his brother hid this from them?

Rushing out after paying the bill, Cassian saw the happy couple walk down the cobblestone path, once again arm in arm, with the woman leaning against Azriel. Another thing that shocked Cassian: how the hell had Azriel not noticed him by now? Those pesky little shadows normally informed his brother of every detail of his surroundings; Azriel’s own heightened senses and observational skills were what made him the Spymaster of this court. So, for him to not notice Cassian so obviously trailing behind them at a distance, was a testament to how captivated his brother was by the woman on his arm.

At one-point Cassian thought that his brother would winnow with his partner and he would lose them, but the couple continued their stroll without a care in the world. He continued to trail behind them while also maintaining somewhat of a distance. Azriel may not be as hyper vigilant as always, but he wasn’t blind by any means- and Cassian was no small man either.

“Breakfast was delightful, darling. We should plan another afternoon here, what do you think?” he heard the woman comment.

“Of course, but I am oh so very tired. I think I need a few days alone at home with my nightingale to recharge,” Azriel replied with a smirk.

Cassian balked on the inside: okay Mr. I Don’t Need To Resort To Poetry.

“We could always have breakfast here again on Saturday. It is our two-year anniversary, and I intend on spending the day however my nightingale wishes. I think the café can be a brilliant start to our day,” Azriel offered, laughing as the woman swatted his arm at the previous comment.

Reaching the end of the path, Azriel grabbed the woman in his arms and winnowed away, leaving behind a thoroughly perplexed Cassian.

………………………………………………………………………………………………………

Cassian was convinced he must have stood there for another half an hour before coming to his senses. He then took off to the House of Wind, ready to face his mate and the Valkyries’ collective wrath. And his assumption had been right; the three women had blown up when they saw him return empty handed and had proceeded to go on twenty-minute-long rant. For the life of him, Cassian could not have repeated a single word they had said. Because he had not listened to a single word, at least not while paying attention. As their rage had quelled, Cassian had simple gotten up and walked to his room, ignoring the questioning looks from his mate.

While Nesta was still in the library with the girls, Cassian had retreated to bed. And that is where he was now: sitting in bed, staring at a wall, completely at a loss for words. He could not even begin to process what he had seen, let alone understand what he was feeling. For some reason he could not get over how openly Azriel had laughed with that woman, how alight his eyes had seemed. It was as if the Shadowsinger was glowing with happiness, as paradoxical as that sounds.

And it’s not like Cassian wasn’t happy for his brother-quite the contrary. He was just hurt that Azriel had chosen to hide something like this from him for two years. Two years. The words clanged around his head like the sharp tolling of a bell. Azriel had this from them for two goddamn years. And he had a sinking feeling that if he had not discovered the two of them today, he would not have found out for quite some more time.

But why? Keeping casual flings a secret was no big deal. They all had had ventures they didn’t tell anyone, he was sure of it. But if the couple were celebrating their two-year anniversary, then it must be serious. Cassian could tell his brother was committed just by how he had been looking at the woman. And if Azriel truly was serious about this woman, why would he hide it from them? His family?

That is the part that pierced his heart. Up until this day, Cassian had thought the two of them to be rather close. Sure, Rhys and Az clashed from time to time because of their own attitudes, but he liked to think that Azriel and him had always been close. Azriel was his best friend for Cauldron sake. Whenever he had had issues with Nesta at the beginning of their relationship-and he had plenty- Azriel had been his confidante, the one he went to for advice. His brother had been there for him at the highs and lows of his journey with Nesta.

So why hadn’t he let Cassian do that for him? Why had his brother chosen secrecy when he could have confided in Cassian? It’s not like he wouldn’t have supported them. He knew his brother was secretive and shy, but it was one thing to hide things about his work and another to choose to hide such a major part of his life from his brothers.

They were brothers, they were supposed to support each other, to stand by one another, not keep secrets and tell lies. All of a sudden Cassian saw the past two years in a different light. He recalled all the times Azriel had shown up to breakfast with an unusually cheery mood, all the times he had been rushing to leave family dinner, all the times he had skipped their get togethers with the strangest excuses. How long had this been going on? And for how long had they been so painfully oblivious?

Did Azriel not trust them? No, that can’t be it. Did Azriel think he could not open up to them? Each explanation he came up with seemed less plausible than the last. As he continued to spiral, Cassian began to question whether the two were as close as he thought them to be.

Why. Why. Why.

“You know if you stare at the wall any longer, you’re going to burn a hole into it.”

Nesta. He hadn’t even noticed when she had come into the room, and judging by her amused look, Cassian assumed she had been there for some time. Pushing off the wall she had been leaning against, Nesta walked over and sat by him on their bed.

“I’ve been calling your name for the past five minutes, where’s your mind at?” Nesta asked while pushing some stray strands of hair behind his ear.

Shit. What was he supposed to do? He couldn’t just tell Nesta something he himself wasn’t supposed to know. If he hadn’t walked into that café by chance, Cassian would have been none the wiser about this whole situation. For whatever reason Azriel was keeping his relationship secret, he didn’t think it his place to reveal it.

“It’s nothing, Nes. Just thinking about Wind Haven. I’m supposed to head up there next week and I already know Devlon’s going to be a pain in the ass,” Cassian tried to divert.

“Since when have you started getting so worked up over Devlon? He’s going to whine and throw a fit, but ultimately he is going to have to do what you say. You’re worried about something else. What is it?” his ingenious mate inquired. How her intuition was so good he’d never know, honestly sometimes he thought of handing over the mantle of General to her, with how good she was.

“C’mon. You know you can tell me whatever is bothering you,” Nesta pushed while grabbing his hand in her own and damn did he melt at that.

“Alright. If I tell you, you cannot tell anyone else.”

Nesta sat up straighter at that, ears perked with curiosity, eyes wide open and eager.

“I won’t tell anyone,” Nesta answered while nodding.

“I’m serious about this Nes. You can’t tell anyone, not even Emerie or Gwyn. No one,” Cassian reiterated, trying to get his mate to understand how serious it was.

“Alright, alright. I won’t tell anyone, I swear.”

Cassian sighed before revealing what was very much not his secret to reveal,

“Azriel has a girlfriend.”

“Wait-what?”

“Az has a girlfriend,” Cassian repeated.

“No, I heard you the first time. But…how…when??? Why hasn’t he told anyone?”

“I have no idea, Nes,” Cassian replied while falling back against the headboard. He once again took to staring at the wall; confusion and hurt running rampant through him again, echoing the same question again and again.

Why had Azriel kept this a secret from them? From him?

“When did he tell you?” his mate inquired.

“He didn’t,” Cassian chuckled, “I stopped at that new café by the Sidra to get some drinks to cool down while I was out for your books. I saw them together there.”

A beat of silence passed between them before Nesta barged on with her questions,

“You seem…upset about all this?”

“I am. Not at the fact that he has a girlfriend, Cauldron no. It’s about time the idiot found someone. It’s just…why didn’t he tell us? Why keep it a secret?”

“Maybe…it’s new? You know Az. Maybe he just wants some time to figure things out himself before he tells you all,” Nesta reasoned.

Cassian let out a bitter laugh before spitting out,

“It is very much not new. The two were planning their two year anniversary at the same restaurant this weekend. Two goddamn years, Nes. He’s been lying to us for that long.”

He wrenched his hand from hers at that. Cassian knew he was being unfair and unreasonable, but he was angry. Maybe he had no right to be but one does not think clearly when in the clutches of fury.

As his previous confusion and hurt settled, they left behind only anger in their wake. That is what he felt right now. Anger. At Azriel, for lying to them all this time, for hiding something so significant. Did he not consider them brothers?

Before he could succumb to the ravages of anger, his darling mate was there to pull him back, as she always did.

“I can feel all that you know. Don’t let your anger override what you know to be true. This relationship of Azriel…it has nothing to do with us. We’re not entitled to anything regarding it just because we’re his family.”

“Oh so what I’m just supposed to ignore the fact that he’s been lying to us about his whereabouts and plans for the past two years, when he could have just told us?”

“No I am asking you to trust Azriel. You know your brother, Cass, probably more than anyone else. You know that he has a reason for everything he does and you know that he would never do anything to hurt his family intentionally. If nothing else, trust in that.”

Cassian sighed a defeated sigh. His mate was right, as she always was. For whatever reason Azriel had decided to keep this relationship a secret, Cassian would have to trust in it. And when the time came, he hoped his brother would feel comfortable revealing the truth himself.

……………………………………..................................................

Little did Cassian know, that despite the fact that he had made Nesta swear not to tell Azriel’s secret, he had unintentionally revealed it to a third. For outside their bedroom clutching books she had meant to return, stood Elain. Elain, who had almost torn the books with how hard she was clutching them. Elain, who’s hands quivered with rage.

This is why Azriel had been ignoring her. All these months she had been trying to get his attention and he had always slipped away. Because of this?? Some common girlfriend?

No matter. Elain would get him back. How could he ignore her for some commoner? Who deserved his love more than her?

As she walked away, already planning her schemes, a wicked thought went through her mind, a precaution in case she couldn’t convince Azriel:

If I can’t have him, no one can.

...............................................................................................

Azriel POV:

The past few days had been the happiest he had ever been. Although Azriel wasn’t quite sure how fair that judgement was. Each hour he spent with his nightingale, he deemed his happiest. And it has been two years of such blissful happiness. Two years together at each other’s side that they were celebrating today.

He had already arrived at the same café they had breakfast a few days ago and was now anxiously awaiting his beloved girlfriend. Honestly, he would have preferred that the two arrive together, not wanting to spend a minute away from his nightingale. But alas, not everything had to be as he wished. As soon as she had woken up, his nightingale had slipped out from his arms (something he had still not forgiven) and had rushed to her book shop. According to her, she had some urgent delivery that she just had to be there for. Therefore she had promised him that she would meet him directly at the café.

That left him, sitting in their favorite spot in the café, with his head swiveling to the door every time it opened, hoping his nightingale had arrived. It wasn’t like she was late, it’s just that he too early, wanting what he hoped would be a great start to a celebration filled day.

“Oh, Azriel!”

He heard his name be called, but his heart instantly dropped, that voice did not belong to his nightingale. Turning around he saw…

“Elain? What are you doing here?”

“What a coincidence, Az! I was just out for some errands and thought I would get myself a drink. I’m absolutely parched! Thank the Cauldron for this lovely café!” Elain replied in an unusually high pitched voice.

“Yes, how lovely…” he trailed off, gaze flicking to the door. He knew his girlfriend would be arriving soon and he would much rather Elain not be here for that… for a plethora of reasons.

“Well, what are the chances of meeting you here Az? And look, you’re alone too! Why don’t we have lunch together, it feels like we haven’t caught up in forever.”

“Actually I’m meeting some…”

He never got to finish his sentence. If someone asked him later what happened, Azriel wasn’t sure he would be able to explain it. One second Elain was smiling at him, trying to grab his hand, the next her gaze turned cold, flicking to something behind him. The next thing he knew, within a matter of seconds, Elain had grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and smashed her lips to his.

What. The. Fuck.

Azriel didn’t even process what had happened, didn’t even realize that she was kissing him. Elain. Was. Kissing. Him.

The last thought jolted him out of his state of shock and he pushed her away. Not caring for who saw or heard, he yelled,

“What the fuck Elain? You can’t just grab people like that! What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Oh c’mon Az. It was barely a peck. I had barely begun to enjoy it,” Elain replied with a callous smirk.

All of a sudden he did not recognize her; he didn’t recognize the cruelty in her eyes, the indifference in her expression. Where was the kind hearted woman he considered a friend? And who was standing in front of him in her place? When he didn’t say anything, still riddled with shock, Elain continued,

“Well no matter. It may have been short but it achieved it’s purpose,” Elain replied slyly. She inched closer and grazed her hand up his arm and whispered, “if you want to continue, I would gladly indulge you, Azriel.”

He didn’t know what the fuck was wrong with her, why she was doing this, in a crowded café no less. But Azriel was way too uncomfortable to try to find out. He wrenched his arm away from her and was about to give her a piece of his mind when he saw it again: Elain’s gaze flickering to something behind him with a wicked smirk on her face. One of victory.

Hoping against hope it wasn’t what he feared it was, Azriel turned around. And it was like time itself had stopped. For there, at the entrance of the café, with tears streaming down her face, stood his girlfriend, his nightingale. A millennia could pass and Azriel would not forget the raw pain, the betrayal shining in her eyes amidst the tears.

No. No. No. No. No. This is not happening. This cannot be happening.

He took one step toward her, to explain, to make her understand he had no fault in what she had seen. But before he could, his nightingale turned around and left the café.

Not knowing what to do, Azriel followed after her to see her almost running away from him.

“Love! Please! Listen to me, its not what it looks like,” Azriel begged, anguish lacing every word.

“Oh please Azriel. Do you know how typical you sound right now?” He did, Cauldron he did. But she had to understand…

“Darling I would never hurt you like that. I don’t even know why she was there… or how… but you have to understand… she kissed me! I pulled away… I would never do that to you,” Azriel let out. He knew his fragmented thoughts probably didn’t make much sense. But panic and fear were making it difficult to come up with something cohesive.

“Really, Azriel? You don’t know what she was doing there?! For Cauldron sake, Azriel! I know you called her there. You know, if you wanted to break up with me, you should have done it yourself like a man. You didn’t have to use her for it!” his nightingale spat at him.

What? Break up with her? Break up with the one blessing the Mother had bestowed upon him? What the hell was she talking about?

“Love… I don’t…”

“You don’t what? Huh? Have any need for me anymore? Well you don’t have to worry about me getting in the way, please go enjoy your life with your darling Elain?” His girlfriend yelled, throwing out Elain’s name like it was poison.

Vaguely he sensed Elain coming up behind them. How did she catch up with them? His love spat out a wry laugh, before saying,

“Look, she’s here to get you Azriel. Go be with your love.”

Before he could refute it, Elain jumped in,

“Its okay, Azriel. I told her everything. She’s not in the way anymore. We can be together now!”

“Elain, have you lost your mind? What the hell are you doing? Why are you doing this? You-”

“Cut the act Azriel. Go. Enjoy your life.”

And with that his nightingale walked away for good, taking the shattered pieces of his heart and soul with her.

… … … … … … … … … … … …

Azriel stood in that spot like a blubbering fish for Cauldron knows how long. He was smarter than this. He was quicker than this. He knew that. But for some reason his mind felt addled, like it was submerged in some murky fog. He couldn’t think straight for some reason.

What the fuck had just happened? Did it truly happen? No, it had to be a nightmare. It had to be. He didn’t just lose the love of his life. He didn’t. He wouldn’t be able to bear it.

Azriel had almost convinced himself of his own delusion, when Elain’s rustling snapped him out of his daze. The woman had the gall to walk away after everything she just did. Not so fast. He grabbed her by the arm and yelled in her face, propriety and etiquette long forgotten,

“WHAT THE FUCK ELAIN? WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU JUST DO?”

She wrenched her arm back and held her head up high when responding, as if she just had just committed some honorable deed,

“I did what I had to. You were never there Azriel. I always tried to talk to you… but you were never there. And to find out that it’s because of her! Some commoner! I couldn’t bear it. But she’s not here anymore, Azriel, we can be together!”

“What?! Are you hearing yourself Elain? I do no love you! Not like that, I never have-”

“BUT I LOVE YOU! WHY ISN’TTHAT ENOUGH!” Elain screamed back.

“You’re out of your mind. You… how did you even find out?”

“Cassian told me,” Elain replied calmly, her demeanor immediately changing. There was something seriously wrong with her.

But her words were what caused his world to stop spinning.

“What?”

“Cassian told me. He saw the two of you together the other day and told me that I would find you here today as well.”

His mind was reeling. Cassian knew too? How? He had been so careful with everything? How had it slipped past him so easily?

Elain patted his shoulder one last time before saying,

“We’re meant to be together, Azriel. I love you so much that I’ll ignore this commoner you were sullying yourself with. She might have left you. But I’m always here for you with open arms.”

And then Elain left, simply and quietly. As if she had not sentenced Azriel to a life without the one happiness he had salvaged for himself in this cruel world.

..........................................................................................

Cassian POV:

Cassian had been sharpening his blades in the training arena, waiting for the Valkyries to arrive, when he felt the wards shift. Someone had winnowed in. Before he could question who it was, he saw Azriel standing at the entrance.

Despite Nesta’s words, his immediate reaction at seeing his brother was one of annoyance. He doubted Azriel was here to confess so the continuing secrecy bothered him even now.

Any rant or anger that Cassian was planning on letting out, disappeared as he neared his brother. Azriel had tears streaming freely down his face, shoulders shaking from the sobs.

“How could you?”

Was all his brother let out. Cassian was at a complete loss for words. His brave stoic brother was falling apart before him and Cassian knew neither cause nor cure. His lion hearted brother who had bared five centuries of pain and trials and had never let out even a wince. And now… It seemed like something was tearing Azriel apart into shreds.

“Az, what’s wrong? I-

“How could you?” Azriel repeated, his sobs getting more and more violent. And each falling tear fell like acid on Cassian’s heart. All previous annoyance was replaced by an overwhelming urge to soothe and comfort.

“How could you? What did I ever do to you?” Azriel cried out again.

“Az… brother… I have no idea…”

“Oh don’t act stupid. Don’t act like you don’t know about my girlfriend!”

Oh. That is what this was about? Azriel knew that he knew? But why was he so upset about it? Cassian didn’t think him finding out warranted such a reaction-

“You knew and you send Elain there to ruin everything!”

What? Elain? What did she have anything to do with this?

“You ruined everything! My nightingale… she’s gone… she won’t even talk to me… She won’t look at me… And it’s all your fault!” Azriel let out in between hiccups of tears.

Cassian knew he had to intervene before Azriel spiraled into a full panic attack.

“Brother, calm down. Alright, yes I saw the two of you at the café, but I only told Nesta, I swear on it. I have no idea what you’re talking about, or what Elain has to do with anything.”

Azriel moved further away from him. The utter betrayal shining in his eyes made Cassian want to bury himself in the darkest corner of the world. He did not know what his fault was but he was ready to spend eternity atoning for it if it meant Azriel would no longer be in the pain he was so clearly in.

“DO NOT LIE TO ME!” Azriel roared, leaving Cassian stunned, “ You did this! You couldn’t bear it, could you? You couldn’t stand the fact that I was happy so you sent Elain to ruin everything. You always do this, you always have to take everything away from me!”

Before Cassian could ask for an explanation or beg for forgiveness for a crime he did not know, Azriel had winnowed away.

Alone, his mind was working on overdrive. What did Elain have to do with anything? Cassian was no fool. He had long been aware of the youngest Archeron sister’s affections for his brother. But he also knew his brother had never reciprocated those affections, had always seen Elain as nothing more than a friend.

How did she know about Azriel’s relationship? Nesta could not have told her. Despite how close the two sisters were, his mate had sworn to him and he knew Nesta enough to know that she did not go back on an oath. Had Elain somehow overheard them? And if she had, what could she possibly have done to cause Azriel so much pain?

So many questions were whirring through his head, not one of them had a coherent answer. But amidst the chaos, a singular thought rang the loudest, and it was one that pierced Cassian’s heart:

What have I done?

[icallhimjoey]

now you’re allowed to write again, this is a formal request for the smut pls 🤝🏼😌

okay so, im bringing back bet!joe for you, because part of your brand is privately requesting specific smut, so our double or nothing boy's back with a new bet! (lil tw: it's.... it's right there, in the request, 18+) Wordcount: 2.4K

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All The Aces

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

“You’re wrong.”

He was wrong.

“Am I?” Joe smirked before he threw his head back to catch a handful of popcorn into his mouth.

“Izzy, please tell him he’s wrong.”

He was so, so wrong.

The flake of popcorn he then threw over that got stuck in your hair went vocally ignored – you just fished it out and threw it back, watched how Joe was chewing an open mouthful of his own, smugly smiling at your bad aim.

That flake landed on the floor about two feet away from him. Izzy picked it up as she walked past, already annoyed with the two of you before she’d even sat down.

Him visibly enjoying her disdain wasn’t exactly helping his case.

“Don’t get me involved in whatever you two do to get each other off.” Izzy commented as she sat down next to you to which you audibly gasped.

You were pressed into the corner of your sofa with a little bowl of crisps balanced on the side – your own one, because neither Joe or Izzy wanted any crisps. They wanted popcorn, so they got to share the big bowl.

With your flatmate slash best friend next to you, your legs pretty much filled out the entire sofa, leaving Joe sit by himself in the armchair and thus placing Izzy in between the two of you, right in line of your crossfire.

“We don’t–” you started, but the dropped jaw you’d had on show for a second too long had prompted Joe to chuck a whole handful of popcorn at you.

None actually made it into your mouth.

“I genuinely don’t need to hear about what does or doesn’t get you off.” Izzy raised her voice slightly as she looked at Joe, telling him off for throwing food. He immediately stopped his laughter and apologised by handing the bowl over to her before he sat back, giving you the opportunity to pick and drop all thrown flakes back into the bowl.

“Just, just take it from me that he’s– you’re wrong.” you urged, and Joe just laughed.

Izzy shook her head as she took a deep breath in through flared nostrils.

Joe took that to mean more than just sheer annoyance at being dragged into whatever childish fight you had going.

“Izzy knows what’s up,” Joe held up a hand, ready to high five her, absolutely willing her refusal to get into this argument with you as an agreement to him being right.

Which, he very much wasn’t.

Izzy ignored him though, left him hanging like a loser, which made you chuckle.

“Will you just, hear me out? Did you hear what he said just now?” you sat up a little, legs crossing in front of you as you turned to Izzy who was now finding whatever she said she wanted to watch on the TV, remote in hand, eyes trained on the screen.

“She did hear me, which is why she won’t.” Joe simply said, leaning back in his chair all relaxed, hands behind his head, legs crossing at the ankles as he placed them on the coffee table.

“No, but, listen. Joe said–”

“I don’t care what Joe said,” Izzy deadpanned. “These lovers quarrels ain’t it. I know you live here so I can’t just kick you out, but…” Izzy’s eyes flicked to Joe, which made him scoff in mock-shock before he let his face turn kind.

Sarcastically kind.

 “No, she’s right. It’s okay. I’m wrong. I’m wrong. I’m just a man, and what do I really know, right? You know, besides the fact that you have like, a billion more nerve endings than we do, which arguably should mean I’m right, just by the science and biology of everything, but, fine. I’ll be wrong if that makes you feel better. I accept my defeat.”

As Joe finished his small monologue, you were both frowning at him - for different reasons.

You, because he was being a little shit.

Izzy, because she was slowly trying to puzzle together what the fuck he was on about.

She then slowly turned her head towards you, eyes squinted in thought, and you sighed as you looked at her. You pretended Joe wasn’t able to hear you when you said, “Maybe you should kick him out, I’m not–”

“It’s 8000.”  She interrupted you sort of casually.

“What?”

“If you’re talking about what I think you’re talking about, it’s 8000 nerve endings for you,” Izzy nodded at you, and then turned to Joe to nod at him, “And 4000 for you.”

Joe raised his eyebrows in slight surprise as he smiled, reaching for another hand of popcorn with one hand whilst pointing the other at you.

“See? Double! That’s double the pleasure!”

“What do you mean, see? Like that proves you’re right?”

“Are you forgetting that we’re talking about something I am witness to? You can’t make such wild claims when I literally know how you–”

“Oh, my God. Stop!”

Izzy rapidly turned her head a few times between the two of you, trying to follow along, before she muted the TV and sat back a little.

“All right, I’m too invested now. What the fuck is the problem…”

“She said women don’t care for orgasms.”

“That’s not what I said, you– No, Izzy,” you had to laugh at the vile facial expression she gave you. “That’s not what I said! I said that for me–”

“No, no no. You said for women.” Joe was quick to correct you, wagging a complacent finger at you.

“Sure, yes. Fine. For women, sex isn’t just about the orgasm at the end. Like, that’s not the most important thing. It’s not all about that.”

Izzy’s face dropped as she blinked slowly, and you saw how Joe was studying her face as he did his very best to keep his own laughter inside of his body.

“Don’t you agree there’s so many other things–”

“Shh shh,” Joe held up a hand, “Let her think.”

You obliged with an eye roll.

Joe was wrong.

“I don’t…” Izzy seemed at a fucking loss. What the fuck was this conversation she’d just accepted herself into? It was bad enough that these were sometimes the type of discussions held within your group of friends, wild accusations thrown over a table that you all got far too passionate about. It was a whole other thing to have two of those said friends now together, as a couple, having the debate in Izzy’s living room where the issue was wholly personal and, worst of all, inescapable.

She sighed as she squeezed her eyes shut for a moment and pinched the bridge of her nose with her fingers.

“Sex isn’t just about the orgasm, right?” you tried, speaking softly, praying she’d at least sort of agree with you. You knew she did, but didn’t know if she’s vocalise it in the moment because you also understood she thought you and Joe were being fucking ridiculous.

She just wanted to watch her favourite show on TV.

Have a quiet night in.

And yet, here you were.

Talking about if orgasms mattered or not.

“Oh, then what is it about?” Joe couldn’t help spatting out as he went for another handful of popcorn from the bowl Izzy had now placed on the table in front of him.

“Um,” you sat up more, now borderline sitting on your knees and nearly knocking off the small bowl of crisps behind you, holding both hands up, ready to count on your fingers.

“Foreplay, intimacy, being close, feeling connected–” you saw Joe slump back into his seat, pushing his chin up as he sarcastically nodded at you with squinted eyes and a deep frown.

It was stupid how that made you laugh whilst you also tried your best at raising your voice to make sure he was hearing what you were saying. To convey you weren’t lying. Which, you truly weren’t!

You continued, “Doing a fun activity together, it’s like quality time, isn’t it?” you tried, nudging Izzy, but not waiting for an answer as you quickly carried on with, “The attention, being appreciated– giving appreciation! Learning about each other! All of these things go both ways, Joe, there’s just… there’s so many things.”

You looked at him a second whilst he seemed to think it over. Just when his facial expression seemed to give way with a raised eyebrow and a small cock to the side of his head, you sternly demanded, “Admit you’re wrong.” which was exactly the wrong thing to say.

“I’ll admit those things are nice, sure.”

Joe threw back his handful of popcorn and wiped his hands, giving himself a moment to think of how he was going to phrase what he was about to say.

You and Izzy waited expectantly, both sets of eyes on Joe who seemed far too relaxed for a single guy sat opposite two women, making wild claims that he somehow would know more about sex from a woman’s perspective than they would.

He truly did believe that to be the case, though.

So wrong.

“But, if we’re not crossing the finish line, what’s the point?”

“Did you not listen to the whole list of things I just gave you?”

“I’m not wrong.”

“You absolutely are wrong.”

“I’m not only not wrong. I am also, right.”

Izzy, who had been quiet for a bit, stared into the space in front of her as she suddenly loudly scoffed.

“He’s wrong right?” you pushed just slightly, desperately needing your best friend to be on your side for this one.

“Listen,” Izzy started, holding up a hand. “I’ve…” she faltered, and you made eye contact with Joe, a little panicked, a little confused.

What if she was going to tell you that you were wrong?

Oh no.

Best friend betrayal.

If Izzy disagreed with you, she could be an adult about it and pretend, just for the sake of it, that you were right and then tell you about her real feelings later, outside of Joe’s earshot.

Bros before hoes and all that.

“The finish line is important…”

Yes.

You smiled as smugly as you could and saw Joe’s slowly fade.

Izzy was a bro.

Yes.

You could just feel how she was about to side with you on this before she’d even said the words.

“But if it’s between all that she said and just, as you put it, crossing the finish line... she wins. She’s right.”

There.

End of discussion.

You didn’t cheer, or high five your best friend, or point at Joe to shriek at him that he was an idiot. You just accepted Izzy’s answer and gave a small shrug that quietly said, “See?”

Izzy reached for the remote she’d put down, unmuted the TV, and Joe watched as the two of you got comfortable on the sofa together. How you sat back and reached for snacks and laid the throw blankets across your laps just right.

It was a little suspicious how long he stayed quiet, but you knew it would only be a moment for him to try and argue his case once more.

There was no point, you knew, but you also knew Joe had an ego that was fragile, like all men had egos that were fragile.

Male egos couldn’t just take hits like this one, even if he was outnumbered.

You were chewing on a crisp when, from the corner of your eye, you saw Joe’s finger wag from left to right, pointing at the two of you before he spoke.

“You can’t actually be serious…”

“Oh yea.” Izzy didn’t even look at him as she answered, and it was hard to hide your smile. “So serious.”

“So, you’re saying…” Joe sat up, both elbows on his knees, whilst neither of you moved. “You’d rather have sex and not come–”

“Half the time, that’s just life,” Izzy complained, and you both laughed.

Joe didn’t.

Your moment of haha-men-suck that had its feet stuck in truths had you laughing louder when you saw how Joe definitely wasn’t in on the joke.

When Izzy saw, she snapped her head towards you and stage whispered, “Uh oh…” through her giggles.

Joe scooted forward even further and doubled down, “You would rather have sex and not orgasm, than have an orgasm? Is that what you are saying?”

He needed to hear you say it.

“Joe… please accept that you’re wrong and let it rest.” You were very much trying to be the bigger person, which was easy when your friend had just helped you win the argument.

But then Izzy grabbed hold of your arm as she looked at your boyfriend.

“Careful...” she warned alarmingly. “I’ve seen that face before.”

“Tell me you mean that. What I just said. Say that you would rather have sex without an orgasm than one with one...” Joe ignored Izzy, dark eyes locked right onto yours, facial expression made of stone.

“No, that’s not...” you sighed, looked at Izzy, said, “He doesn’t get it.”

“He doesn’t get it.” Izzy echoed.

You were still making fun, unable to stop your giggles.

“Say what you mean, then.” Joe was still leant forward, was still staring you down, all serious and urgent.

“Can we just watch TV now, please?” Izzy interupted, increasing the volume of the TV slightly.

Joe didn’t falter in this weird staring contest he’d started, one you weren’t participating in.

You looked down at your bowl of crisps as you fished out another one.

You bit it in half and saw how Joe grew a little impatient as his eyes followed your hand as you fed yourself.

Then, you finally answered, “Sex isn’t about the orgasm.” And Joe immediately clapped his hands together loudly, making both you and Izzy jump slightly. He seemed incredibly pleased as he sat back in the armchair, rubbing his hands together before he pointed a quick finger at you.

“I’m going to prove you wrong.”

A startled laugh escaped you as you and Izzy shared a look.

“All right, good luck mate.”

This time, it was Joe’s turn to scoff, and that smug little smile from before made its return.

“Won’t need it. You just wait.”

You looked at each other for a moment, and you didn’t trust his confident bearing one bit, but were too stubborn to let your own satisfied smile fade.

“Fine.” you said challengingly.

Joe was wrong.

“Fine.” Joe copied.

So wrong.

---

The Taglisted

@alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson, @demonsanddemogorgons

@djoseph-quinn, @dolcevit4, @eddies-puppet, @emma-munson, @emotionaldreamer

@everythinghasafacee, @figmentofquinn, @ghost-proofbaby, @gri959, @hanahkatexo

@hazelenys, @imjustjen14, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @keikoraven

@kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @mandyjo8719, @mexicanfolklore, @munsonluvrr

@munson-mjstan, @munsonssweets, @nadixq, @niallersfreckles, @notverywise

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@sweetberry47, @take-everything-you-can, @thebellenouvelle, @tlclick73, @werepartnersnow

@witchwolflea, @yunirgo

add yourself

[wooahaes]

cake crumbles

pairing: non-idol!woozi x fem!reader

genre: fluff. established relationship au. some slight comfort.

warnings: anxious jihoon who just wants everything to go well. proposal mentions. food.

word count: 1.3k~

daisy's notes: he :( <3

“Okay. We can fix this. It’s not too late.” 

The only things holding Jihoon together right now was both Soonyoung and Vernon’s presence right now. But he hadn’t stopped staring at where your birthday cake had been dropped onto the floor, smashed into a mess of blue and white icing. Even now, he couldn’t bring himself to clean up the mess in Soonyoung’s apartment. Soonyoung was on his knees now, tossing it into a bag to be disposed of properly once it was all done. It had all happened too quickly. One minute he’d been moving it to a different space on the counter, and the next he’d been lying on the floor, body aching from his slip, and the cake was destroyed. The little party he’d planned was hours away, and he’d ordered this cake specifically for you…

“I think grocery stores do plain buttercream cakes,” Vernon said, fingers covered in blue as he dropped another chunk of cake into the trash. “It’s not as special, but we can get them to write her name on it.”

“She likes those cakes,” Soonyoung nodded. “That’s what we did for my birthday last year.” 

Right, but those weren’t made for you. Jihoon had gone out of his way to slowly figure out what you’d love the most. He sighed, and moved to get paper towels to wet and clean up the remaining icing. “I don’t know. I wanted to get her something special…”

Vernon looked up. “It’s just her birthday. I know she’s special, but—”

Immediately, Soonyoung started to smack his arm. He shook his head, and Vernon slowly connected the dots.

“Oh.” Then his eyes widened. “Oh! Dude—Today?”

Jihoon quietly nodded, then stopped. “I mean—Not technically?” He sighed, leaning back. “I was going to ask her when we went home. It’ll be after midnight, so it’d be tomorrow, and—”

Vernon nodded. “Alright. Look,” he pushed himself off the floor. “I know some people. Maybe one of ‘em could help do us a favor.” 

Something inside of him seemed to crumple like tissue paper at how easily Vernon seemed to take charge right now.  That should be what he was doing. You were his girlfriend, his love, and yet he couldn’t seem to drag himself out of the spiralling thoughts that he’d fucked this all up. He knew what you would say now, though: that it was fine. That you didn’t need a birthday cake to be happy. But today needed to be perfect for you. You treated him with so much kindness, always so gentle but clear with how much you loved him. Jihoon wasn’t always the loudest with how much he loved the people in his life, but he hoped that his love was clear, too. This was supposed to be part of his big gesture, the thing that screamed to the skyline that he loved you wholeheartedly. The other part was the box still tucked away in his pants pocket, even now. He carried it with him most days, just in case he ever felt the inclination to forego his plans…

Maybe he should have. Then he wouldn’t be so stressed right now making sure everything went right. 

Vernon had already stepped away, calling someone to see what they could do on such short notice. Soonyoung, on the other hand, had helped him wipe up the remaining icing. The floor needed to be mopped soon anyway, and then the scene of the crime would be entirely taken care of. By the time it was all taken care of, Vernon already had a name and a place to go—which led to Soonyoung pushing Jihoon toward him, saying he could handle setting up the rest. 

He’d described as basic a cake as he could: vanilla, decorated with buttercream in blue and white, with maybe some flowers on it if the baker could swing it. All it needed to say was ‘Happy birthday’ and your name. The easiest thing that they could make, he would accept as long as it tasted good. With the order placed and a time given to pick it up, Jihoon stepped back out onto the street with Vernon at his heels.

“So…” He’d soon fallen into step beside him. “It’s not just about the cake, is it?”

Jihoon slowly nodded, tucking his hands into his pockets. Anything to look more casual instead of the nervous storm he was inside. “If I don’t make it right… Then I’m going to feel like I failed her.”

“You could literally show up with just a thing of Oreos and she’ll love you.” Vernon looked over. “It’s fine to be nervous, but I don’t think there’s anything you could do that could upset her.” 

“I know, but…”

Vernon bumped into him, just to get his attention back on him. “You two love each other a lot, dude. It’s gonna be alright.” 

Jihoon could only hope that it would be.

Hours passed quicker than Jihoon expected them to. He and Vernon had returned to Soonyoung’s apartment and helped him set up for your little birthday party. Seungcheol had thankfully agreed to drive the cake over, careful as he could be, while Jihoon had to return home to you. He’d fed you this plan to go out for a movie and then dinner, hand hovering over his pocket. The box was right there. Maybe it’d be better for him to leave it somewhere safe here, but he felt better carrying it on him. 

“Jihoony?” You had turned from where you were putting on an earring—one of the ones he bought you last year for Christmas. There’s a playful lift to your voice, smiling at him. “Everything okay?”

He nodded, making his way over to you. “Everything’s perfect,” he said. Yet the pit in his stomach didn’t seem to shrink at all. He had hoped that saying it aloud would do something, and yet…

You fastened the earring into place, and then reached forward to cup his face. “Jihoony.” You let out a long sigh. “I know.”

“You… know?”

“One,” you said, “Cheol accidentally let the party secret slip when I asked him if he wanted to join us for dinner. And two…” You shut your eyes for a moment. “Remember the other week when you came home exhausted from work? You changed, ate dinner, and then went straight to bed…”

Oh no. Oh no. He swore he had tucked the ring box into his bag after he drove home. “So, you…”

With a soft kiss against his lips, you leaned back. Your chapstick tasted like birthday cake, all too fitting for today. “Whenever you ask, I’m going to say yes.” 

Jihoon met your eyes. “Even if it’s tonight?”

“Maybe wait until we’re alone,” you said, as if he hadn’t always planned for that. “But yes,” you giggled. “Tonight included.”

Jihoon reached for your hands, taking them into his own. The words already started to pour out of him before he could even think twice, “I dropped your birthday cake earlier. We got a replacement, but it isn’t the one I ordered for you. I hope that’s okay.” 

Instead of saying anything else, all you did was step back as you laughed. He’d fallen in love with your laugh long ago, but hearing it now he swore he was falling in love with the sound all over again. When you faced him again, you were smiling harder than before, even more radiant this time.

“As long as I get to enjoy it with you,” you said, “I’m going to be happy.” 

All at once, his anxieties disappeared. He leaned in, lips brushing against yours for just a few seconds. He knew he would kiss you properly once the two of you were home again. But for now, he’d leave you with something fleeting, just to leave both of you wanting more. “Happy birthday,” he said for the second time today, hands resting at your waist. “I love you so much.”

taglist: @twancingyunhao @wonuziex @synthetickitsune @staranghae @porridgesblog @weird-bookworm @bangchansbae @laylasbunbunny @bewoyewo

[forever-rogue]

i mean 👀👀 agent whiskey is such a flirt i would probably die if he flirted with me he would have me the moment he opened his mouth. But also i could see him flirting with the nerdy lab assistant who he really likes but she thinks he isnt being serious bc of the amt of flirting he does on cases. (hes so attractive it hurts)

AN | No but the cowboy could flirt with me any time 🥺❤️

Pairing | Jack “Whiskey” Daniels x Fem!Reader

Warnings | None

Word Count | 2.2k

Masterlist | PP Characters, Main

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"You're going to give yourself a headache, sugar," the outside of his warm southern drawl caused you to almost jump out of your chair. You hadn't even heard him coming; he was incredibly stealthy but you knew that was just part of the job. You turned to him and offered a small smile, trying not to stare at his ridiculously handsome face, "staring at the computer too much and workin' entirely too hard."

"I, shit - Jack," immediately you wished the floor would open up and swallow you whole, "I didn't even hear you!"

"Well, I wouldn't be very good at my job if you did hear me," he teased, sitting on the edge of your desk, which caused you to have a mild freak out. You gave him a nervous, tight lipped smile before shrugging, "do you ever take breaks?"

"Sometimes," your cheeks warmed up as he tutted at you, "when time allows."

"I don't like that answer," he drummed his fingers along the top of the desk before quickly hopping off and holding his hand out to you. You stared at it as though it was some weird, foreign thing, "come on. I'm taking you to lunch."

No. Nope. Definitely not. You weren't sure if you'd be able to survive that. 

"Oh Jack," you shook your head and rolled your chair a little further away, "I can't. I'm… too busy."

"Hmm," he hummed softly but didn't pull his hand away, "I think you know by now that I am a stubborn man. And I don't usually take no for an answer."

"Jack…"

"Come on," he tilted his head towards the door and motioned for you to follow, "I'll even let you pick the place. I won't keep you for too long, sugar, I just want to make sure you've had something to eat and taken a well deserved break."

You stared at him for a few long seconds before slowly nodding. 

It wouldn't be too bad. Right? Right.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"So," you didn't like the sound of Ginger's tone at all. You knew it all too well. You froze as you poured your cup of coffee, "I heard you went out with Jack."

"Oh yeah, we - wait," you almost dropped the carafe, "what!? Ginger, what are you talking about?"

"I heard from Trish who heard from Christine that you and Jack went on a little date," there was a huge smirk on her face as you tried to process even what she was saying.

"Ginger. Ginger," you set everything down and turned to her, holding your hands up as an act of surrender, "you of all people know that you shouldn't listen to gossip!"

"Oh," she shrugged lightly and crossed her arms over her chest, "but you're not denying it."

"I - no!" You groaned heavily, "we didn't go out, Ginger. We…he came to my office and insisted that I needed a break and we went to grab lunch. It wasn't a date or anything."

"But you did go out," you opened and closed your mouth a few times, "you could have said no, right?"

"I…" you thought about it a few more moments, "but it's Jack. You know how persuasive he can be."

"Mhmm," she made her own coffee and turned her back to you. You sighed heavily, "of course he is. But he's also sweet on you."

"He is not," you sounded almost indignant but her words gave you a moment of pause. He wasn't, was he. No…he was just an openly flirty man. It wasn't just specifically with you…the idea was preposterous, "that's just how he is."

"Is it though?" She mused sweetly. You couldn't even be annoyed with her, she was too sweet for that, "listen, sweetheart, you're a scientist. You're incredibly intelligent but you're so blind. Open your eyes a little bit and then you'll have your answer."

"What's that supposed to mean?" You asked but she was gone and out of sight before you even finished your question, "Ginger?"

“Just Jack last time I checked,” oh maker. Of course the man in question had to have that perfect timing. You closed your eyes for a moment and let out a low breath. This was Jack after all, just another coworker. There didn’t have to be anything weird about it. The fact that you’d harbored a crush on him for as long as you’d been working was another thing entirely. Of non-import. Except that it was becoming an increasingly large problem that made it hard to be around him. Hell. Maybe this was worse than you had thought. 

“O-oh,” you pasted on the best smile you could muster up in that moment before turning back to the coffee that seemed to be the most interesting thing in the world, “hi.”

“Hey sugar,” he really had to have that warm, syrupy drawl didn’t he? It made your knees weak, “everything alright? You seem awfully jumpy.”

“Everything’s just fine,” you were a liar. Everything was most definitely not fine, “just needed a coffee break.”

“I’d suggest water,” he leaned against the counter and gave a lazy little half smile, “but I’m glad to see you’re taking a break at least.”

“Mhmm,” a tightlipped smile was thrown his way, “had to stop staring at my screen for a while.”

“Well good,” he reached over and gave your shoulder a squeeze. His touch was electric and sent shivers down your spine and butterflies to explode in your tummy, “listen, I was wondering if-”

“I’ve gotta go,” you took a step out of the room and away from him, “I’ve got a lot to do.”

Jack watched as you almost ran away back to your office. He shook his head fondly and decided that he would check in on you later. There was no reason for him to scare you off now; everything would happen in time.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Over the next couple of weeks it seemed like you saw Jack everywhere you went. Whether or not it was intentional it was starting to drive you crazy. The man took up enough of your mind already, he didn’t need to be the only thing on it. Any time you weren’t actively thinking about something else, the cowboy took over your thoughts. It almost wasn’t fair. 

This particular evening you were positive you were the last one left in the building. There were just a few things you needed to finish up and you hadn't planned on being there too much longer.

That’s why when you heard the footsteps coming from down the hall, your brain went into fight or flight mode. You grabbed the nearest thing that you thought could serve as a weapon and clutched it tightly. Padding over to the door, you hid just out of sight and waited for the intruder to come in. 

You held your breath as you got ready to attack and as soon as you the person walked through the door, you jumped and yelled at them. He was startled in response but you quickly realized that it wasn’t just any intruder…it was Jack. Of course.

Sighing heavily, you lowered your arms and took a step back, “what the hell, Jack?! Are you trying to give me a heart attack?”

“Me?” he asked, eyes wide and incredulous, “you’re the one brandishin’ a beaker at me!”

“It was all I could find!”

“Did you really think that little thing was going to protect you?” his surprise quickly turned into amusement as you eyed the glass in your hand.

“I dunno,” you set it back down and took a step back, “it was just…the moment. What are you even doing here?”

“Working,” he put his hands on his waist as he was prone to doing, “what about yourself, sugar?”

“Working,” you echoed softly, “I was just getting ready to leave in a few minutes.”

“Funny,” he offered you the sweet smile that you found hard to resist, “I was going to do the same thing."

"Funny," you agreed meekly although you definitely did not think it was funny. This was Jack after all…he didn't do things without purpose, "well, I guess I'll let you get back to it."

"Listen," he paused in the doorway but you'd already turned around, face contorting into a grimace, "would you want to stop for a bite to eat?"

You had a feeling this was coming but it didn't stop the clench of your shoulders that you just knew he could see, "umm, I'm okay. Thank you for offering though."

"You got any plans tonight?" He strode back over, determined as ever. Even though you were anxious as hell, you couldn't deny that his gentle persistence was making you melt, "darlin'."

"N-not really," you admitted, side-eyeing him sneakily, "just stuff and things."

"Stuff and things," he repeated and you nodded. He huffed lightly before hesitantly reaching over and putting a finger under your chin. When you didn't pull out of his touch, he brought your face up to his, "is there a reason you're avoiding me?"

"N-no," you lied weakly as he tutted in disbelief. You caught his eye for a moment before swallowing thickly, "you make me nervous." 

You weren't even entirely sure if you'd meant to say it out loud but there it was. No going back now. His eyes widened for a minute before he nodded, "is there a particular reason why? Have I ever done or said anything to make you feel that way? If so, I greatly apologize-"

"You haven't done anything wrong," you quickly stopped him and shook your head fervently, "its just…you."

"Me?" He was bemused and you were floundering. How very typical.

"Yes," you sighed lightly, "you're all great and wonderful and lovely and I feel like if I go out with you're just going to be even better and I'll fall in love! But it won't be the same for you because you don't like me like that, you're just flirty with everyone."

"Hold on a minute there, sugar," he pushed back a few locks of stray hair out of your face, watching you intently, "you're going a million miles a minute."

"Jack-"

"There is some truth to what you've said," he agreed, "but a lot of falsehoods too."

"Oh. Oh?"

"I don't expect you to fall in love with me," he whispered, "at least not yet. But in case you haven't noticed, which I see now you did not, I am sweet on you. I like to think I'm nice to everyone, most people anyway, but that's often mistaken for flirtation. However this old cowboy ain't got eyes for anyone but you."

Surely your mind was manifesting this. Maybe you'd fallen asleep at your desk and were in the middle of a fever dream. But….no. you definitely felt him brush his knuckles along your cheek before he traced his thumb along your bottom lip.

"Seriously?" You cringed as soon as you blurted out your question, "me?"

"Mhmm," he hummed softly, "I'm not forcing you into anything - and if you prefer for me to leave you alone completely let me know - but I'd love to have the honor of taking you to dinner."

"Like a date?" Scientist who? Clearly you were a wordsmith.

"Not just like a date but an actual date," he agreed, a smile turning up the corners of his mouth and displaying his dimple, "tonight can be casual but perhaps this weekend you'd let me do this all properly."

"Okay," your answer came out softly and easily, causing your face to warm up and his to light up brighter than the sun. It wasn't really even a question; you liked Jack a lot…you'd just never thought he could feel the same. And yet here you were.

"You're thinking much too loudly, darlin'," he chuckled as you blinked owlishly, "wanna tell me what's on your mind?"

"I sure will," he really did have the loveliest smile, "but I'd like to take you out first. I want to do this thing right."

"Will you kiss me?" Ugh. You were definitely crawling into a hole and never leaving.

"Wow," he was just too dreamy.

"Wow yourself," he teased affectionately, "now what do you say we get out of here?"

"Yes," every fiber of your being was humming with excited energy, "please."

"Well come on then, sugar," he took your hand and pressed a kiss to the back of it. Swoonworthy, that's what he was, "ain't got no time to waste!"

Yeah. Maybe this wasn't such a bad idea after all.

[dduane]

So it came to my attention a couple of weeks back that the version of Stealing the Elf-King's Roses that until recently was available over at Ebooks Direct had somehow managed to evade being updated using the cutting-edge Vellum ebook software, when we were doing all the other books in the store.

I have no idea how this happened. Anyway, I've been taking care of that update, and the book will be available again in a day or three.

Meanwhile I'm having the usual conniptions over new cover art and font choices. Fantasy covers these days need to have one or another of a group of very specific looks. So do SF covers. And when you have a novel that splits the difference between the genres (or bashes them together...) the way this one does—as STEKR is an alternate-Earth police procedural—it can seem impossible to get it right. You don't want to leave people who're buying-at-a glance feeling, later on, that they thought they were getting one thing and were sold something else.

The art above is okay enough to go forward with. (Though I'd feel better if I could get Lee something a little more like her judicial robes and less like a "little black [cocktail] dress".) The real problem right now, though, is the font choice.

After some consideration I grabbed the one above from Derek Murphy's fabulous DIY cover site. (Simply because how could I not try a font called The Princess And The Frog?...) But I'm going to go back tomorrow or the next day and try using a much more SF-looking font, and see how that comes out. Who knows... maybe when it's in the store again, we'll offer both cover versions and see what people prefer.

Anyway, this is just an early warning for those of you here who may have picked up the book earlier (possibly as part of our whole store bundle*). When the updated book goes live, you're entitled to be updated to the new version of STEKR, with its improved graphics on the inside as well as the outside, if you feel like it. Just drop a note to the store's support email address, quoting your order number, and we'll refresh your download links when the book's back up in the store.

Meanwhile, for those who may not know anything about this novel: look under the cut for the description.

*Which, along with all our other bundles, is on sale at 20% off right now.

It's CSI, Jim, but not as you know it...!

Psychoforensics specialist and freelance prosecutor Lee Enfield works with the Los Angeles District Attorney’s office as a lanthanomancer—a magic-worker trained in Seeing and revealing the truth.  When she and her fayhound partner Gelert are brought in to do discovery for the investigation into the murder of an Elf named Omren dil’Sorden, at first it seems an ordinary homicide: just one more hate crime in a city and culture where violence against the immensely wealthy, uncannily beautiful Alfen is becoming more and more commonplace.

But Lee and Gelert discover that there's more to this Elf's murder than meets the eye. When political pressure from above the DA's office pushes the two partners out of the investigation, Lee's unwillingness to drop the case gets her and Gelert drafted into a mission to the heart of the forbidden realm of Alfheim. Their involvement makes them targets of a shadowy conspiracy involving powerful multinationals and governments of the Eleven Worlds, intent on taking the secret of the Elves' power for themselves. Drawn into an ambivalent and potentially deadly alliance with the shadowy and much-feared Elf-King, and with the fates of entire worlds on the line, does Lee dare trust her Sight to reveal his true motives—and can the Elf-King be trusted to be on anyone's side but his own?...

This stand-alone fantasy police/legal-procedural novel by DD, originally published in 2002, is reissued exclusively here in a new edition -- revised and updated, with an afterword about the project's genesis and an appendix featuring never-before-published background material on the Eleven Worlds.

[callofdudes]

I'm crazy and this is mainly based off my oc, but yn is prices adopted daughter that works with him, and the read is like 22-24 and price is supposed to be 45, and he kept it a secret because he's want to protect yn. I wanna see how the 141/könig reaction, can be romantic or platonic don't care lol, yes i know it's stupidly specific, but I'm stupidly specific.

You um... You have no idea, I love this. Me and a friend actually have a story plot where y/n is adopted by Price and they are y/n Price. And I will die on that hill. I'm so glad other people are in the same boat.

Let's be honest it was either Ghost or Gaz who found out first. Ghost because he's a lieutenant and he knows everything so what would you expect?? Gaz because he sits in the filing room in the basements and reads other people's files he can get his hands on for a pass time.

Ghost 💀

Wouldn't say anything at first. When you'd insisted on bringing him back home with you he really didn't fight it that much. You'd dragged him out to the airport and he was honestly just tired and annoyed by the people at that point.

But when you got your tickets and Simon saw the name said Y/n Price, he hadn't entirely registered it. It kind of went in one way and shot out the other.

You both had boarded the plane and you were a load of smiles. Roughly halfway through Simon slowly leaned over as casual as ever. "So you're Price's daughter."

Your eyes widened. "I-what!?" You looked over at him but he didn't really seemed fazed by any part of your reaction. "I'm presuming you're adopted, your biological parents names are on your file."

Your jaw dropped. "And how do you supposedly know this!?"

Simon leaned over slowly and pointed down at the ticket you still had in your hand. The top corner said the purchaser was Y/n Price.

"Oh..." You looked back at him.

"Don't tell anyone, ok?"

"Wasn't planning to." Simon shrugs.

It honestly wasn't a huge surprise to him. Considering Price was caring to all of them, but seemed to coddle you more than the average soldier. And Price just wasn't that type of guy usually.

"So... What now?" You ask, not sure why he brought it up.

"We go wherever the hell you're taking us. Misses Price."

"Simon."

"Mhm, fine fine, I'll stop."

Well, his reaction wasn't nearly as bad as you thought it would be. So you relaxed in your seat again.

Simon now knew, but he didn't bring it up often. Sometimes he'd have a small joke about it in private with you, but other than that he didn't bring it up. What was secret was secret.

He did however let Price know he knew, just in case something went astray in the future and he needed someone he could count on with that information.

Gaz 🧢

Gaz went to Price first to confirm before bringing it up to you. You'd accidentally signed one of your assessments as Y/n Price.

Price was slightly mortified when Gaz asked if it was a mistake on your part. He could have said it was a mistake but his second child is probably too smart for that.

"That's correct. Y/n Price."

Gaz hummed. "Is she your child then?? I didn't know."

"Adopted. I kept her biological parents on her file to protect her."

Gaz nodded in understanding. He was low-key jealous. He was BIG jealous. You were Price's kid?? He wanted to be Price's kid.... This was unfair.

He huffed as he walked to your office.

"Hey Gaz, everything alright??" You ask, still working on paperwork.

"Your father has your assessment."

"Oh thanks-" you paused and looked up at him. "What??"

"Your father has your assessment." He said again, somewhat eerily this time. "Make sure to sign your paperwork differently next time." And he slowly backed away to the door.

"Wait, Gaz!" You called after him, scrambling to get up. "don't tell anyone!"

Gaz was slinking our of your office, closing the door just closed enough you could only see his face. "Your father told me everything."

"Kyle Garrick get back here!"

He slammed the door and bolted down the hallway. You opened it again and ran after him. "Gaz!!"

"You won't catch me!"

You chased him around base but ultimately you couldn't catch up to him.

Gaz understands it's a secret and is very professional about it. But sometimes when you're alone he'll sneak by your bedroom door and your office and whisper something that has to do with Price bring your father. It creeps you out so he keeps doing it.

Price thinks it's funny and doesn't get to stop him so long as he tells no one else about what he knows. And Gaz keeps that promise.

Soap 🧼

He's a little slow, give him some time. There are things that have been shoved in his face that are glaringly obvious. Like one time he found you and Price alone in the gym and he was helping you lift, and Price isn't that loving to anyone I'll tell you that.

Encouraging words and everything. He just assumed it was a rough day since all of them needed some encouragement from Price.

Or that time you accidentally signed something as Y/n Price and he looked over it a million times to make sure everything was correct.

It just... It took him a bit is all.

Everyone else knows by this point so it's one day after a long mission and you all come back you hug Price tightly. "You did so amazing kiddo." He praised.

"Thank you dad."

Loud gasp. Very loud, drawn out gasp.

Soap's jaw drops as he looks at you all wide eyed. "did you just call him dad!???"

You all look at Soap a bit confused and the you nod. "Yeah..? I thought you knew?"

"What!? I never knew this!" Soap exclaims.

"Well... I'm adopted, but it's a bit of a secret so-"

"YOURE ADOPTED BY CAPTAIN-"

Ghost slaps his hand over Soap's mouth and glares at him. "Don't tell the whole base will ya?"

Soap looked over at you when Ghost let's go of him and starts to bounce a little. "This is exciting! I didn't know about it."

You couldn't help but chuckle. "Why am I not surprised??"

"Glad we're all in the know now, but it's a secret Soap, so no going around and telling everyone you see, do you understand!?" Price addressed him.

"Me?? Telling secrets- pfft, Price do you even know who you're talking to?? I won't say a word."

Once he learns it is to keep you safe, he will try his hardest not to say anything. Sometimes in meets he's still so stoked he'll just randomly... "woah... Y/n is Price's kid..."

And then you all look at him weirdly. Like, yes Soap, you've known this for six months now.

König 🐙

Didn't think too hard on how this could go at all

König did not know much about you. He didn't know a whole lot considering that was kept under lock and key by the 141.

It was a huge shock. But now that he looks back on it he can kind of see it... Yeah.

"Hey König?" You asked him while the two of you were sitting on a few empty ammo crates in a dusty old compound waiting for your pickup.

"What is it?" He replied, looking at you curiously under the hood.

"Can I tell you a secret?? You can't tell anyone else though, promise?"

He raised an eyebrow, sitting in silence for a moment before nodding. "Deal. What is this secret?"

You sighed. You trusted him a lot, so surely he'd keep this secret to himself right? There wasn't any real harm in telling him.

"My full name is Y/n Price."

König sat on this thought for a moment before he replied. "You're Price's daughter??"

"Adopted."

He hums. "Alright. Thanks for telling me then??"

You shrug. "You're welcome."

König was shocked. He wasn't expected it at all, especially so out of the blue like that. But he was good at hiding it. He was having a mini crisis inside. You were adopted by the Captain John Price!? What was home life like? Probably really fucking good.

You probably got respected a lot. If anyone other than himself knew. And he wouldn't tell anyone. He had to promise himself that. So it was a lot of pressure keeping this secret that you so very well hid.

But he's honored you told him.

[ddoxhan]

your existence

like your shining smile, you brighten up my world with your existence

word count : 1.9k words

genre : fluff; when hanni comes over to blue rain for her cup of coffee but after you clocked in to work; florist!hanni x fem!reader (a year older than hanni); BREAKING: actual sighting of two lovesick puppies

t/w : none :)

a/n : here's part 2 as requested by y'all <3 there will be a part 3 with the way I ended this but it will take some time as I have loads of assignments to finish :') meanwhile, here's this to enjoy !!

usually, the florist comes over real early for her regular vanilla latte, making her the first customer of the day. however, she decides to sleep in a little before starting her routine, and you decided to show up a little earlier after running late twice. (chaewon was going to cut your pay and you were here to make some extra to buy that switch)

that meant, chaewon would usually be the one opening the shop to make the first drink of the day for hanni. you, being a nice friend and employee decided to open the shop for her this time round because fingers crossed, minju might actually let you off early on some days when she comes to know of your good deed. (or maybe you just know your crush comes over early for her coffee and you want to see the most beautiful person in the world to start your day)

you pedaled harder than usual with spring love songs playing in your earphones, scaring chaewon a little when you blasted your spring playlist in the cafe because you were one grumpy kid during the season of spring. (she had experienced it thrice and was extremely ready to get you to try a dating app)

it was undeniable that even you yourself, felt that you were more giddy and giggly recently, because of a certain someone who works at the florist shop that is two lots before blue rain. it took you some time to realize that you were crushing on her and when you told chaewon and minju, the two looked at each other before hugging you at the same time. they were so proud that you finally like someone, perhaps even love, as they were so worried you might actually die alone in the future. (jokes aside, they genuinely thought you were asexual at one point)

although it was slightly tough trying to open the cafe on your own for the first time, you did a pretty good job at managing things. coffee machines, tables and chairs, windows, floors, even the storage room. you made sure everything was in place before you flipped the 'closed' sign to 'open'. the clock struck 8 and your favourite person should step in anytime soon to get her usual vanilla latte. (the coffees weren't your expertise, but you learnt the vanilla latte specifically from chaewon so that you'd be able to make her favourite drink anytime she drops by)

30 minutes passed by and still no sign of her. it was weird since she was always on time with opening the shop, and you were growing worried that she might be sick and decided to close for the day. if that was the case, you'd clock out this instant to check up on her. how did you come to know where she lived? you decided to offer to walk her back one day when you were about to ride back to your place, seizing the chance to spend more time with your crush.

she gladly accepted your offer, the smile on your face widening so obviously that the girl had to look away to stop herself from smiling too, and from falling even harder for you than she already did. riding your bike would take less than 5 minutes but walking would take about 15 and no way were you choosing the bike. she was the one who asked, and seeing how you refused to ride and walk instead, made her feel hopeful that you felt the same way that she did. (at first, it was one lovesick puppy, now it's two)

just as you were ready to grab your coat, the bell on the door rang as it opened, revealing the one and only person you had been waiting in nervousness the entire morning.

"morning, unnie! I didn't think I'd see you here this early."

hanni flashes you her signature smile that literally has your heart skip a beat, each and every time without failure. somehow, you wish it stays that way because the butterflies makes you feel all giddy on the inside, and the only person who succeeds in doing it is her.

"good morning, hanni. you know, just happened to wake up early. the usual right?"

when you tried your best and you don't succeed. yeah, the nonchalant reply did nothing to mask the intention of yours to see her and even have her drink order embedded in your head.

"hmm, I come here so often that you remember my orders."

as you keyed in her order into the cashier, she leans closer to the machine, looking at you from an angle that has you swooning over her adorable antics, but you did a fairly good job at hiding it from your face.

"of course, you're our favourite customer."

"are you sure? or am I your favourite customer?"

but her flirting always gets you down bad for her, it's like she has done this many times before. the thought of it kills you on the inside a little but you didn't jump to conclusion on the spot, knowing it's not right to do so. (and to be honest, hanni's been in a relationship only once and that was back in elementary school. so that's invalid, meaning she just really loved teasing you and see you turn into a red tomato)

"o-of course! chaewon-unnie and minju-unnie likes you a lot too..."

a red tomato you turned into indeed. to ease down that burning blush, you attempted to cool down by running your hand down your nape. but every time you feel like you calmed down, she pulls another move on you to make you turn into a darker shade of red.

"aww, that's a shame, cause you are my favourite barista."

"I'll get your drink done in a few minutes!"

all you could do was look away and shut your eyes close, distracting yourself with work so you don't hyperventilate and walk over the counter to hug hanni. the urge was so strong, but so was your self control. (at times like this, why is your self control so good? it should be like this when you shop)

"cute..."

while you were trying your best to avoid eye contact due to your very evident crimson ears, hanni just stared harder from the side. she found the way that you were just so shy but tried hard to not be, extremely endearing.

and one of the reasons is because she likes you so much that everything about you was adorable to her. you being slightly shorter, the dimples that appear when you laugh, your habit of scrunching your nose occasionally. this girl was head over heels for you but you were so dense, you could never tell. (and her too, that you literally just blush so hard because you like her, a lot. she thought you were just a really shy person)

"here's your vanilla latte, have a great day!"

you were trying very hard to brush away those compliments from your mind and tell yourself that she was just being friendly. although hanni was really just blatantly flirting with you, quoted from chaewon. for real, it made her so frustrated that you two really were just two dumb puppies who couldn't realize each other's feelings for one another.

"thanks unnie! and no worries, it's already extremely great when I get to see my favourite barista."

as you handed her the cup, the slight brush of her hand over yours drove your brain into overdrive and you just stopped functioning. it didn't help that she even winked at you as she said that before stepping out of the cafe to head back to the florist shop.

all you could do was stand there like an idiot you are, again quoted from chaewon. you could always trust her to roast you like no tomorrow but she only does that because she cares for you like you're her little baby sister. (she actually shed a tear when you told her that you have feelings for hanni)

speaking of the devil, the front door opens revealing her as she steps in with knitted brows due to you having your mouth open with widened eyes.

"what are you doing?"

just as you heard her speak, that was only when you snapped out of your daze.

"hanni just called me her favourite barista..."

"well, congratulations on finally realizing."

the unsurprised and dry tone made you glare at her, a huge contrast of whatever happened earlier. if hanni made you feel butterflies and brightened up the store like the sun, chaewon's reply brought the rain with her. very inclined with the cafe's name.

"you knew?"

"oh my god, you're one clueless idiot."

you clearly saw how she rolled her eyes, as if being very done with whatever she's going through. (of course she is, she literally has to witness every time hanni drops by and see you two all giggly like high school girls)

"and what's that supposed to mean?"

"exactly what it's suppose to mean."

all she really wishes is for you and hanni to get together as soon as possible cause this whole situation is just so suffocating for her. her and minju didn't even last a week of flirting cause chaewon quite literally asked her to be her girlfriend when they were on their third date. by giving her a kiss by the way. (if you were on a bicycle, she was on a bulldozer)

"I hate you."

although you muttered under your breath, if it comes to things said about her (and her girlfriend), she develops an amazing sense of hearing. and you really just wish that you kept your mouth shut during these kind of times.

"I heard that, and I'll be cutting out three days of salary from your total."

"I love you so much, ms. chaewon. you're the best boss. I'll head to the storeroom to check on the stocks."

flashing your capitalist smile, you headed to the back knowing she'll let you off the hook. chaewon might make it seem like she's annoyed and very done with you, but it makes you feel very warm. being the only child in the family, you've always wished to have a brother or sister who you could rely on. you've always had a hard time expressing your feelings and thoughts, and without even needing to say anything, she's always there for you to lean onto. just like a sister.

you smile to yourself, thinking about how you've come to enjoy your days recently. chaewon, minju, and hanni. you couldn't ask for more from god cause he blessed you with the existence of these three people in your life. a sister, a good friend, and? a crush?

leaning back against the wall, you wondered. crush doesn't really sound that nice. perhaps you should make it girlfriend. yeah, that rolls off your tongue so much better. maybe you should finally confess, after 3 months of meeting hanni. you do have to admit that after she appeared in your life, days have been nothing but cherry blossoms and spring breezes for you. you constantly remind yourself that you were the person who hated spring with their guts.

you changed the moment you met her that day where those baby breaths and lemon candies brought you two together, and that's when you knew.

her existence made you love spring, as she was your spring.

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[ernmark]

Juno Steel and the Case Closed (part 1) reaction

It's been a while since I've done one of these, hasn't it?

But it's the last episode, and I wanted to be here for the end. So if you'd like, some thoughts and theories under the cut:

It was a solid choice to have Nureyev go-- to make this final story about Juno and his world and his life, rather than specifically about their relationship. But also, the choices made around Nureyev's leaving-- holy shit.

Because here's a man who's spent the last twenty years entirely defined by his relationship with one man, and now he's cut loose and of course he's flailing to re-establish himself in a different orbit. And you can hear it in his voice, where it rises into something halfway to panic (amazing job, Noah Simes), and you can feel exactly how horribly wrong it's going to go if he goes down that road. And then there's Juno, who's healthy enough to be the voice of reason, even when it hurts him? Who makes it clear he's willing to wait until Nureyev is ready for him? Oh my god, that's perfection. (And Nureyev going maybe back to Brahma-- my little fanfic writer heart did a leap there). Nureyev may very well be back next episode (I suspect he will, if only for the final moments), but I really like this as an ending of their arc-- not the neatly laced up riding off into the sunset together, but looking forward to that sunset and being actually ready for it when it comes. It makes my heart feel so good.

--

And from that happy moment, to have Juno go back to Hyperion, to his office, and immediately start slipping back into his worst self? Oh, that's too real-- in a way that I am very happy with. Because he isn't 'fixed'. Juno 'born-a-sad-baby' Steel won't ever be 'fixed', not by romance or a vacation or a wonderful new family dropping him reminders of how much they love him. What's wrong with him isn't something that can be fixed-- but this time around it's different. This time around, when he yells at Rita she stands up to him (with a small, tremulous voice, because goddamn standing up to people you love is terrifying). I am so proud of her for that, and of him for backing off. It takes a palpable effort for him to rein himself in, but he's making that effort-- and he knows how, in a way that I don't think he did in those early seasons. It's a choice he's making, over and over again, just like it's a choice he makes to keep replaying Jet's wisdom instead of drowning his misery in tequila.

(Another kudos there: that Juno's problem isn't addiction, not the same way it is for Jet-- alcohol isn't a problem for him when things are going well, but it's easier to retreat into a bottle than to deal with his feelings. It's a distinction you don't see very often. Honestly, the way this show has dealt with addiction has been really refreshing to see.)

I've said from the beginning that one of the things that really drew me to this show was how it handles Juno's depression-- as a genuine mental illness that's an inherent part of him. And it's enheartening to see him struggle with it, but now be able to reach out for the tools and the support he needs. And that support doesn't have to be Jet literally talking him away from the bottle, or Rita or Nureyev petting him and making him feel better. He can reach for the pieces of them that they leave behind. And he can wish the Ruby 7 a good journey home, and send Nureyev to find himself, not without pain and grief, but without completely losing himself to it.

That kind of story gives me so much more hope than any kind of 'happily ever after' ever could.

--

And then the designated mystery, which has me so freakin' excited:

Nightmare.

She is the culmination of so many plot threads that I've been picking up on for so long and I'd completely forgotten about, and I am so freaking excited to see it.

I was in such a rough place emotionally when we last visited the most obvious of those threads, I genuinely don't remember if I posted meta about it or not, but it definitely struck some bells:

When Juno rescued Rita from Dark Matters, the safehouse she was in was described as being full of items that were clearly meant for a child. At the same time, Sasha was having Rita destroy all evidence of her own life so thoroughly that not even Rita herself would be able to find traces afterward.

It seemed most obvious to me that she was hiding a child (one that, I didn't realize until Juno remarked on Nightmare's area code, could have been hidden in the suddenly repopulated New Town without anybody asking inconvenient questions about who she was or where she came from). Also her taking care of a child would explain her ever-escalating reactionary tendencies-- she certainly wouldn't be the first parent who descended into authoritarianism in a misguided attempt to protect someone.

So some theories about who and what Nightmare is:

Alessandra's daughter is the most obvious, of course. (I still hold onto that theory that Sasha was either the Worst Client that Juno told Alessandra Strong about, or else that Sasha was the cheating spouse in that story.)

Nightmare could be Annie Wire's daughter-- assuming that Annie survived the factory, grew up, had a child of her own, and then died for real this time, leaving her grieving sister to raise her niece.

Nightmare could be Annie Wire herself-- dead, kept in stasis, revived by Dark Matters technology, and then whisked away to the safe house.

Nightmare could be a clone of Sasha and/or Annie. Honestly, not digging this theory, but I might as well throw it out there.

Nightmare could herself be a Radical, not unlike the Ruby 7, who's taken on Sasha's appearance and stayed that way ever since (after all, Sasha would have been at just about the right age when she was recruited by Dark Matters)

From a narrative standpoint, I'm most fond of the idea of Nightmare either being Annie or Annie's daughter, personally. Because that's literally the second mystery we were given, and it was pointedly never solved. As much as I like the idea that some mysteries just aren't and you have to make peace with that, I'm a big fan of long games like this, and of tugging on threads from the beginning of a story when you're wrapping up the end. That's especially true for Sasha's arc closing here, back in Hyperion City. Sasha's voice was one of the very first that we heard in this series, and Sasha's trajectory has always been a funhouse mirror version of Juno's. She's always been an integral part of his story. It seems fitting that her story gets wrapped up alongside his.

[the-girl-wh0-cries-w0lf]

You're waiting for a train...(3)

Meeting Your Mark

Robert Fischer x reader

description - Y/n knows the most dangerous move you can make is to fall in love with your mark.

word count - 1.7k

warnings - mentions of death, the sharpness of cillians cheekbones, how piercing his blue eyes are.

a/n - okay so I promise the Robert stuff is coming! The next chapter will be an important one, this was just a filler pretty much. Also I loved writing about y/n and Ariadne cause I felt they would both relish in the other when surrounded by men - specifically y/n.

a/n 2 - We finally have Tom Hardy in this chapter!!

Previous Part Series Master list Master list

If you want to be added to the taglist - here

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

I sat on the window ledge, clutching my coffee like a lifeline. It tethered me back to reality. I got out the picture from my jean pocket. I brushed my fingers over the fake braces and then found them stroking the faces of my siblings. Their gleeful smiles frozen in time.

The door creaked open, announcing Arthur’s entrance. I hopped to it and wiped away the tears that had escaped. All morning my mind had been plagued with visions of a man. I wasn’t even dreaming and yet he still remained. He’d nested within my brain, and he wasn’t leaving any time soon. But no matter how much I strained trying to make out the face, I was at a loss. It was almost like I couldn’t create the face because he had already been made. But I was yet to meet him. With how much closer I’d been getting to his figure with each time asleep, I felt our meet was imminent.

“You sleep, okay?”

“Like a log.” Arthur’s eyes drifted to the case I had hurriedly packed up.

“You went under?”

“No.” I lied. But he didn’t breach the topic any further as we were both stopped by Ariadne clearing her throat.

We turned around.

“Cobb said you’d be back.” Arthur remarks.

“Yeah, well, I tried to not come but- “

“There’s nothing quite like it.” I finished for her. She smiled softly at me.

“It’s just—pure creation.” She held her gaze with me. There was a brief silence between us three, waiting for someone to continue the discussion.

“Let’s look at some paradoxical architecture.” Arthur broke the silence and led us both to 3 deck chairs he’d laid out. We lay down and hooked ourselves up. Within seconds we were away.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

We found ourselves in a structured glass office building. Arthur winked at me. It was the first building I’d ever created, and he’d saved it all these years. This is where I’d honed my own paradoxical skills. He led the two of us up a staircase.

“You’re gonna have to master a few tricks, if you’re gonna build three complete dream levels.”

“Excuse me,” I said as we passed a woman who had dropped her files.

“Why three?” She asked.

“Successful inception depends on planting the idea deep enough that the genesis of the idea becomes too foggy for the subject. 3 levels deep, 3 dream levels.”

“Anyways, what kind of tricks do I need?’

“In a dream you can cheat architecture into impossible shapes that lets you create closed loops.” We had been walking the staircase in a circle now, proving one of my favourite closed loops. “Like the Penrose steps.”

“Aka, the infinite staircase.” We passed the woman with the dropped files once again. “See.”

Ariadne suddenly took stock of her surroundings and saw the end of the staircase culminate in a sharp drop.

“Paradox.” We left the staircase and began to walk around the office building so Arthur could explain further. “So, a closed loop like that allows us to disguise the boundaries of the dream.”

“But how big do these levels have to be?”

“Well, it could be anything from the floor of a building to an entire city. But they have to be complicated enough so that we can hide from the projections.”

“A maze.”

“Right, a maze.”

“And the better the maze- “

“The longer we have before the projections catch us.” I smirked at how quickly Ariadne had grasped the concept. She truly put my dad to shame. And having her with us meant I no longer had to work with incompetent male architects. This girl was the real deal.

“Exactly.”

“Well, my subconscious seems polite enough.”

Arthur and I chuckled. “Just wait, they’ll turn ugly.” I answered. “No one likes to feel someone messing around in their mind.”

“Cobb can’t build anymore, can he?” Ariadne questioned. I wanted to argue but she was right. He thought about mum too much where his mind could never be clean enough to build anew.

“Well, I don’t know if he can’t, but he won’t. He thinks it’s safer if he doesn’t know the layout.”

“Why?”

“He won’t tell us.” I lowered my head, Dad might not have told me why, but he told me enough.

“But I think it’s Mal.”

“Yeah, no offence but your mum was a piece of work.” She laughed, gesturing to me. “What does his ex-wife have to do with it.”

“Mal’s not his ex.”

“They’re still together?”

“No,” I spoke up. “She died. What you see in there is just his projection of her.”

Her eyes softened when they looked at me. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

“What was she like in real life?”

“She was lovely.” I smiled thinking back in my memories.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Ariadne and I sat talking with our coffees and croissants. Arthur had left to get some supplies, so we decided to have a rest. We’d been drawing and planning all morning, so a break was well earned.

“You have an architecture degree?”

“No, I never got to finish it.”

“Why?”

“My dad needed me here. So, I left.”

“Oh.” She sensed the underlying sadness so left the topic. “But your drawings are amazing, why can’t you build.”

“Oh, I don’t build anymore.” I laughed brushing off her statement.

“Does it have something to do with your mom?”

“We all have our own demons, I guess. And it’s terrifying when they get opened up to the world.”

“She’s still your mom.”

“No, she died. That person in his head, that’s not her.”

“Seems you have a better grasp on that then he does.”

“I guess.” I rose, uncomfortable with the conversation, and she took my tone as her cue to end the conversation.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Dad had arrived back from Mombasa. When he entered with Eames I immediately ran into his awaiting arms.

“My favourite little troublemaker! How’re you doing darling?”

“So much better now you’re here!” I cheekily winked at him.

“Oh, I can imagine working with Arthur is the most exciting thing imaginable!” Eames sarcastically said.

“Nice to see you too, Eames.” Arthur huffed as he walked away from us two.

“Don’t insult him or he’ll start going over safety procedures again!”

We both laughed and finished with another hug.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

I sit with Eames and Cobb out on the roof. Saito flings a file towards the three of us and it opens out onto the table.

“Robert Fischer. Heir to the Fischer Morrow Energy Conglomerate.” Dad looks at the file and then hands it to me.

My breath catches in my throat as my eyes meet his steely blues. The rest of the world became water that flooded my ears with white noise. I couldn’t grasp onto any sound in the world apart from my beating heart. My finger raised to stroke the picture. He stood there, dressed to the nines. His hair perfectly styled, and his body adorned in riches. But his eyes, as piercing as they were, held a sadness. He was lost. I could feel it through the ink.

“What’s your problem with this Mr Fischer?” I snapped up but failed to notice that my daze had been caught.

“That’s not your concern.” Saito’s tone cut through the air. I scoffed at his brazen attitude.

“Mr Saito, this is not your typical corporate espionage. You asked me for inception, I hope you understand the gravity of that request.”

I couldn’t stand it. This may have been purely business and transactional, but something shifted. This couldn’t be purely business with our skills involved. I decided to speak up.

“The seed we plant in this man’s mind will grow into an idea. This idea will come to define him. It may come to change, well, everything about him. This man is on a course of fate and. We. Will. Alter. It.”

Saito took a moment, considering my words. He relented to my warning.

“We’re the last company standing between them, and total energy dominance and we can no longer compete. Soon they’ll control the energy supply of over half the world. In effect, they become a new superpower.” He pounds the table. “The world needs Robert Fischer to change his mind.”

“And that’s where we come in.” Eames perks up to give his two cents. “How is Robert Fischer’s relationship with his father?”

“Rumour is the relationship is quite complicated.” This tugged at my heart for some reason. My eyes drifted to my own father.

“Well, we can’t work based solely on rumour, can we?”

Eames turned his file around the show us a picture of an obviously esteemed individual.

“Can you get me access to this man? Browning, Fischer seniors right hand man,”

I read my own file. “And Fischer juniors godfather.” I finished.

“It should be possible, if you can get the right references.” I chuckled at how simple this request was for Eames.

“References are something of a speciality for me, Mr Saito.” Eames cheekily stated.

“Then it is done.” All three of us got up.

But I felt changed and Eames noticed my subtle slump.

“I saw how you reacted to the picture.”

“What? He has nice—cheekbones? And blue eyes.” I stumbled through my unsure answer.

“Don’t worry, I’m not your dad.” He laughs at my bad attempt at lying. “How do you fancy a quick internship at Fischer’s house.” He raised his eyebrows, inviting me into another mischievous mission. I smirked and happily agreed to his scheme.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

On the other side of the roof, Saito, who had been looking at y/n intently throughout the meeting, stopped Cobb before he left.

“Your daughter. She is committed to this mission?”

“I don’t doubt my teammates.”

“What about your family?” He probed. Cobb became silent. “I saw her demeanour when she saw that picture. I’d hate to see your one chance disappear because of your daughters schoolgirl crush. Perhaps she is not as reliable as you think?”

Cobb halted his movements and considered Saito’s words as the man left the roof. He looked towards y/n who still had the file open in her hands. In that moment, he saw his daughter for who she truly was, a child without a childhood.

Would she be that impulsive?

Would she be that stupid?

Would she risk it all for him?

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Yes. Yes I would risk it all for Cillian Murphy too.

taglist: @jonsncws @h-l-vlovesvintage @theethy @fashionki11a @felicity1994

[cevansbrat0007]

Brat Games

Summary: Full story! It’s all fun and games when you find yourself in the mood to embrace your inner brat. Andy Barber x Bratty Reader

Warnings: Smut, Shenanigans, Bratty Reader, Grumpy Andy, Daddy Kink, Spanking, Sex Toys, Sexual Themes, Cursing, Minors DNI

A/N: Well, I finally managed to finish this story! I hope it's okay. Please let me know what you think. Part of my ongoing Part of my ongoing Growing Pains Series. Likes, Comments, and Reblogs are appreciated. Semi-proofread. All mistakes are my own.

___

You’d woken up this morning in a mood. But not just any kind of mood. You wanted to play. Too bad the man you were playing with didn’t know that you two were in the middle of a game. Oh, well. You were sure he would figure it out. 

Eventually.

___

Your fun begins innocently enough. 

You lean back in your seat, your stomach threatening to burst if you tried to eat even one more bite of your stuffed brioche french toast. Brunch at the North Street Grille never disappointed, that was for sure. 

Sighing, you take a look around the restaurant hoping to catch sight of your boyfriend. He’d stepped outside to take a call from the office roughly ten minutes ago and still hadn’t returned. It was annoying, yes. But his prolonged absence also gave you an idea. 

You were about to do something that was going to irritate the hell out of your man. Something that he had never let you do in all your months of dating. 

Take care of the check. 

“Still enjoying everything, ma’am?” Your waitress asks as she walks by your table. “Or would you like me to get you a box?”

“I’m finished, thanks. But I think my boyfriend might need one.” Casting a brief glance over your shoulder, you reach into your bag to pull out your debit card. “Could I go ahead and pay real quick? He never lets me get the bill so…” You shrug and offer her a conspiratorial wink.

That’s right. You were gonna pay for your meal, his old-fashioned objections be damned. 

“No problem. Be right back with your card and that box.” The young woman hustles away before returning a few moments later with the necessary items. After thanking her and signing the receipt, you slide your card back into your purse. Just in time for Andy to rejoin you at the table. 

“Everything alright?” You chirp before taking a sip of your now lukewarm cappuccino. 

“It’s fine.” Andy scrubs one big hand over his neatly trimmed beard. “More than fine, actually. That was Ahmed calling. He thinks we’ve got enough cause to petition for the judge in this case for a recusal, which is great fucking news.” 

“Oh, well, yay! I guess.” While you didn’t know the specifics, if he was happy, then you were happy. 

“Trust me. That ignorant fuck, Baxter, has no business on the bench.” Your man takes a bite of his bacon. “Mm…thanks for grabbing me a to-go box, little love. I’ll pay and then we can get out of here. But I will need to stop by the office for a bit before we get on with our day.”

“Sounds like you need to work.” You flash him an easy smile as you begin to gather your things and stand up. “How about you just drop me off at home? Or, come to think of it, I can walk back.”

“Not happening, baby girl.” Andy stands up too, tossing his used napkin on the table. He takes a moment to stretch his arms above his head, his sinewy muscles bunching and flexing beneath his maroon colored shirt. “I won’t be long. I just need to grab a couple files.”  

“Andy Bear, it’s only like a fifteen minute walk from here to my place. I do it all the time.” You swing your purse strap over your shoulder. “Really. It sounds like you need to concentrate. And I’d probably just be in the way…”

Your Big Man pins you with a hard look, letting you know that he disagrees with this entire conversation. It was no secret that your man wanted you with him practically all of the time. He was even bugging you to move in with him. Not that you were complaining.

“Yeah, not gonna happen. Let me go pay for this and –” Andy looks down at the receipt in his hand, finally noticing your handwriting scrawled across the signature line. “What did you do?”

“My treat, handsome.” Rising on your tiptoes you plant a chaste kiss on his cheek. “Don’t forget your box.” With that, you turn and scamper out the front door. 

“Damn it, Y/N!” You don’t have to look over your shoulder to know your unhappy Andy Bear is hot on your heels. Cursing your short legs, you speed walk all the way to his Audi. Which, of course, just happens to be parked at the far end of the freaking lot.

You feel Andy’s hand grip the waistband of your jean shorts, tugging you backwards and into his side. “Why would you –?  We’ve been over this, baby girl.” Andy growls, his tone rife with displeasure. “When I take you out, I pay.” He uses his big body to box you in, pressing you against the passenger door of his SUV. “That’s how this works between you and I.” 

You were pretty sure that you were the only person to ever willingly pick an argument with Andrew Barber outside of a courtroom. If he were being honest, it was part of what made you so attractive to him. 

“But Andy Bear,” you pout. “You never let me pay for anything. It’s time for you to step into the twenty-first century a little, honey. You can be so old fashioned sometimes.” 

“So?” He grunts, raising one dark brow.

“So…I’m just trying to get you to bend the rules a tiny, tiny bit.”

“No.” His rebuttal is sharp even as his soft lips go to graze the shell of your ear. “I don’t care what century we live in, princess. I’m a man who believes in taking care of his woman. Which means that I pay. Understand?”

Instead of responding you choose to stick your tongue out at him. Which then prompts him to lightly grip your chin, forcing you to meet his intoxicating gaze.

“When Daddy asks you a question he expects an answer.” 

“Yes, okay.” You whisper as the pad of his thumb delicately traces the curve of your bottom lip. “But I also think you’re just mad that I beat you to the punch, Big Man.” You give this thumb a playful nip. 

“Oh, I am. Try that shit with me again and I’ll take your debit card and keep it in my wallet for the rest of the day. Now get your pretty self in the car, baby, before I decide to bend you over the hood and redden that tempting ass just enough to make sitting a hardship.”

Frowning, you allow him to open your door and assist you into the passenger seat. And then he makes a show of handing you his food before buckling you in. 

You were a strong, independent woman who was perfectly capable of dealing with her own seatbelt. So why did it make your core spasm whenever he took charge like that? You needed to have a conversation with your inner feminist stat. 

“Thank you.” Your man huffs as he shuts the door before walking around to the driver’s side. “Such a little brat first thing in the morning.”

___

Two hours later…

Andy bristles in the seat next to you as you do your best to tamp down a fit of giggles. While he’d kept his promise to make his trip to the office a short one, he wasn’t very happy with you at the moment.

And not because you had snuck and paid for brunch. Oh no. He’d gotten over that one. Mostly. 

“Put your shirt back on, Y/N.” He grits out as he tightens his grip on the steering wheel. “Now, please.”

“But I’m hot!” You whine. “It’s, like, 92° outside and I’m practically melting. Look at me!” You tell him, dramatically fanning yourself with your periwinkle-colored blouse. To be honest, you weren’t sure what his problem was. Afterall, it wasn’t like you were walking around naked. You were still rocking your navy blue cami, complete with a black push-up bra layered underneath. 

“I can see the outline of your fucking nipples. And if I can, then so could Ahmed. Poor man practically choked on his tongue the moment we walked in.” He hisses under his breath. 

“It’s a natural reaction to the A/C, Andrew. And how was all your co-worker’s stammering and stuttering my fault?” You ask as you lean back in your seat, unconsciously drawing his attention to your cleavage. “It’s not like he hasn’t met me before.”

“Yeah, but it’s the first time you’ve come in with the girls on display like that. Between them and that ass in those tight little shorts…” Your man trails off as he stares hungrily at your pouting nipples, nearly veering into the other lane. 

Yeah, you knew you were slowly driving him nuts. You just didn’t care.

“I’m gonna need you to cover my tits before we hit the grocery store, baby girl. I don’t want or need a bunch of slack-jawed fuckers staring at what’s mine.” The gleam in his lets you know that your Big Man is far from joking.

“Who says it’s yours?”

“The fuck?” His head whips towards you as he swings the car into an empty parking space.

“What?” You innocently bat your lashes at him. “Last time I checked, this was my body, which means that I am the keeper of this temple, boo.”

Andy’s bright blue eyes zero in on your mouth as his own lip curls in some semblance of a snarl. 

“Now, that’s where you’re wrong, little love. Your body is my fucking temple.” One big hand goes to grip the back of your neck, applying just enough pressure to let you know that he means business. “And I worship at its altar every goddamn day.”

“Oh.” Your breath hitches in your throat.

“I don’t know why you seem so intent on pushing my buttons today; I really don’t. But I feel the need to make something very, very clear here.” He takes a deep breath as he fights to maintain control. “Just because it’s my job to uphold the law doesn’t mean I won’t toss you in the backseat, splay those sweet thighs wide, and feast on that disrespectful cunt until you remember your place.” Andy possessively nuzzles the crook of your neck, his sharp teeth nipping and sucking at the tender flesh.

“Now, are you gonna be good and put your shirt back on for me? Or do you want everyone in this parking lot to hear how fucking pretty you sound when you cum on my tongue?” He growls,  the scruff of his beard softly scraping against your cheek.

Your eyes flit to the back of the car as you process his words. Your handsome District Attorney was never one to bluff. Wordlessly, you shrug your blouse back onto your shoulders and quickly fasten the buttons. 

“Good girl.” He purrs, watching through heavily lidded eyes as you stubbornly leave the top three undone. “Tell you what. If you’re still hot when we get back to my place, you have my permission to prance around naked for as long as you want.”

“Al-alright.” You mumble, unconsciously rubbing your thighs together as you try your best to quell the ache forming between them.

You win this round, Andrew Barber.

___

Your trip to the store to grab the items you need to make grilled steak fajitas is largely uneventful. After your discussion in the car, you’re tempted to remain on your best behavior. 

And you do. For the most part. Until you decide to wander away from your boyfriend while he’s busy searching for your precious queso fresco. Because you would be damned before you settled for something like basic shredded cheddar cheese. 

Oh no. According to Andrew Barber, you were just born to be difficult.

Since he’s otherwise occupied, you make your way over to the produce aisle to grab a pineapple. And maybe a little extra attention if you could swing it.

“Excuse me…hi.” Waving, you stop someone who looks to be a manager as he’s in the process of replenishing apples. 

“Hello, Miss. How, uh…” The dark haired man goes to adjust his glasses as his eyes stray to your chest. “How can I help you?”

“I’m looking for something…sweet to enjoy with my dinner tonight.”

He nods along, looking just the teensiest bit flustered. Smiling, you reach over to pick up a cantaloupe, followed by a honeydew melon. Holding one in each hand, you raise them so that they’re level with his bordering on inappropriate gaze.

“And since I haven’t ever been to this particular Wegmen’s before, I’m a little curious about your…melons. I - I’m afraid I’m not very good when it comes to picking out fruit.” You have to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing.

This whole thing definitely had cheesy porno intro written all over it.

“Okay.” By now the man’s face is tinged with red. And if you’re not mistaken, he’s also starting to sweat.  

“Do these seem…firm enough to you?” 

“I, uh, I think so, Miss.” He coughs, nervously fidgeting with his tie as he watches you give them an enthusiastic squeeze. “They look…great.”

“Yeah? They do seem nice and plump.” You pretend to study them as if weighing your options. Good lord you were probably going to hell for fucking with this poor man, but the train was in motion and it couldn’t be helped. “You think they’re a good size? I’m looking for maximum enjoyment, you know?”

“Well, if I’m being honest, those, um - they look like the perfect handful.” His crooked grin lets you know that he likes where this conversation is heading. “But I’d be happy to show you some of the new produce we’ve got in the back.”

Woah, buddy. Pump those brakes!

“That’s very kind of you, but–” 

“Y/N - there you are!” You jump at the sound of your name. “Been looking all over for you, baby.” Turning to face him, you do your best to appear as innocent as possible.

“Hiya, Andy Bear. This kind gentleman was just giving me his opinion on my melons. See?” You do a little shimmy. “Think they’re ripe enough?” 

Honest to God, you cannot remember the last time you saw your man’s face turn so many pretty colors. Mostly shades of red, but boy is it a sight to behold. 

“Jesus Christ, woman.” He rasps, his expression one of pure exasperation as he takes the fruit from you before handing it off to the worker at your side. “Sorry, but we won’t be needing these.”

“But…” 

“We’re leaving.” Andy’s gruff, no nonsense tone is enough to make you pout as he holds his hand out to you. “Now.”

“But I wanted to grab some pineapple for you to throw on the grill with the steaks.” You explain as you begin inching towards the display. “By the way, did you know that some experts say men should consider drinking pineapple juice before they go to bed…for the health benefits?” You watch as that one vein along his temple begins to throb spectacularly. “I can tell you that article definitely left a sweet taste in my mouth, that’s for sure.” 

Oops. Too much? 

Your question is answered for you when you feel Andrew’s big body suddenly looming over you. “Why do you keep trying to provoke me, sweetheart?” His nimble fingers go to brush a flyaway curl off the back of your neck, eliciting a shiver. “Hm?”

“I - I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about, Andy Bear.” You feel a hand sink into the back pocket of your shorts before painfully squeezing your ass. “Ow!” 

“Last warning, little girl...” He does it again, ignoring the way you rise on your toes with a whimper. “Knock it the fuck off. Now put that shit in the cart and let’s go.”  

You resume pouting, but manage to do as he asks. Quietly hating the fact that you can’t do anything about the sting in your poor bottom because you’re out in public.

Overgrown, handsome ass sourpuss. 

Andy keeps a solid grip on your waist the entire time you’re in the checkout line, only letting up when you two are loading things onto the conveyor belt. Handing you his card, he tells you to go ahead and pay while he runs off to the bathroom. 

So you do. With your debit card. But instead of going for immediate gratification this time, you take the receipt and wrap it around the black card he had initially given you. You had no idea when he would notice, but you knew that he would one of these days. And when he did…

Well, you’d deal with it. 

But until then, you decide to keep the game going by pushing the cart outside and loading up the car. Sometimes it was so unbelievably easy to mess with your man. It really didn’t take much with Andrew Barber, especially where you were concerned.  

___

The ride back to your place is mostly quiet. Well, Andy talks. But you’re not able to respond because you’re too busy sucking on one of those fucking jawbreakers he keeps in the center console for moments when you’ve been…acting up. 

Funny enough, he’d actually noticed your little switcheroo with the cards earlier than you’d expected. But only after he’d found you sitting in the driver’s seat of his car with the windows down and the A/C on full blast. At least you’d left your shirt on this time. 

See? Progress. 

Yeah, not to him. That was another rule of his. He always drove. And on the rare occasions when you were the one to pick him up, he pumped your gas. Rain or shine. When it came down to it, you really were a lucky girl. 

And you knew it.

But that didn’t mean that you couldn’t get a little sassy with him now and again – which is exactly what you'd done when he’d snarled at you to get your little ass over to the other side before he tore it up. Which explained why you were currently sulking with a mouthful of hard candy.  

And, to top it off, he had to drop you at your spot after all because he had to head back into the office. Looks like things were moving quickly all of a sudden, and he was apparently due in court first thing in the morning. Talk about a bummer. 

You’re still not done with the fucking thing when he finally pulls up in front of your home. With a sigh, Andy puts the car in park before climbing out of his seat and jogging over to your side to assist you. 

“Hm. Still pouting, huh?” Andy murmurs, chuckling when you don’t reply. Besides, you were only following instructions. You attempt to swerve him when he leans in for a kiss, turning your head so that his lips brush your cheek.

“Hey. Don’t be like that, baby girl.” Wrapping his arms around your middle, he pulls you flush against his hard body. And although you try to resist, it’s difficult to put up much of a fight when he smells so damned good. 

“Hmph.” You grunt, even as you bury your face against the fabric of his shirt. 

“I’m sorry, but it looks like I really do have to work. We’ll pick things up tomorrow.” One of his big hands begins lightly rubbing your back. “Including discussing whatever's got you acting like such a brat today. Understand?”

You nod, slipping a territorial hand beneath his shirt. 

“Thank you. And in the meantime, Daddy is going to Venmo you the amount of whatever it was you spent today. Plus a little extra so you can order yourself something for dinner tonight since we’re pushing off the fajitas until tomorrow.” He pulls back so that he can look into your eyes. “You gonna be my good girl and accept it without giving me a hard time?“

Again you nod, trying not to get lost in those big, beautiful orbs.    

“Wonderful.” His head dips to capture your lips for a brief kiss. “I’ll call you tonight after I’ve taken care of what I need to prepare for court and you’ve had time to adjust that little attitude.” 

He takes another kiss, right as you finally finish with that damned jawbreaker. This time he gently swipes his tongue across your bottom lip, before claiming your mouth for his own. He groans softly, reveling in your sweet taste as his hands go to your ass, tugging you closer. 

“Okay, Daddy.” You whisper, feeling a touch lightheaded when you finally break apart. “I’ll talk to you tonight.”

“Count on it.” Andy playfully tugs on a curl that’s escaped your bun. “Now go on inside, okay? And be sure to lock the door behind you too.”

“Bye.” You steal another kiss.  

“Goodbye, baby girl. Talk to you tonight.”

___

True to his word, your Andy Bear sends you your money back and then some. You’re tempted to return it, but instead you decide to use it to buy the ingredients for your famous lemon pound cake – made from scratch. 

The secret? A package of instant lemon pudding and a couple teaspoons of lemon zest.

And by the time he manages to FaceTime you that evening your mood has certainly shifted. You spend much of your thirty-minute call talking and teasing one another before signing off for the night with a little dance to the tune of T-shirt & Panties by Adrina Moore.

Yeah, Andrew Barber loved the hell out of you. Even when you spent the day being a little fucking brat. Which was understandably a good thing.

Especially since you weren’t done.

__

The next morning…

Knowing that your boyfriend would be busy with court proceedings for most of the day, you quietly let yourself into his house. After getting your things settled, you change into something into one of the two outfits you’d brought along to aid you in this particular bout of shenanigans. Namely, some brand new lingerie. 

Giggling, you disappear down the hall in the direction of his study. Once inside, you take your time putting together the compact tripod for your mobile phone before adjusting your camera and lighting. 

Deep down, you knew that you should probably quit while you were ahead. But, in all honesty, where was the fun in that? 

Having previously settled on several classy poses thanks to a little practice last night, it doesn’t take you long to capture what you need. And you managed to successfully take them all without falling on your head.

Once your man got through bitching and moaning about your being naughty, you were sure that he would come to appreciate your efforts. At least, that’s what you kept telling yourself. 

You normally felt bad about interrupting him in court, unless it was an emergency. But today you would force yourself to ignore those feelings in favor of shenanigans.

Biting your lip, you open up your message thread to fire off a good morning text. You kick things off simply enough, writing: Good morning, Daddy. I’m just over here waiting patiently for you to bring home a victory today. 

And then you hit send, which leads to the following exchange:

After slipping in the dreaded b-word to your conversation, you decide to put your phone on silent. While it was true that your boyfriend often claimed to be man things to you, being your buddy wasn't one of them. And it annoyed the crap out of him whenever you referred to him as such. 

As you go about tidying up, you consider making use of the toy you knew was tucked away upstairs in the nightstand by the bed. While it would definitely do you good to relieve some of that ache between your thighs, you would force yourself to be patient. 

However…

That doesn’t stop you from heading up there anyway, under the pretense of dropping off your overnight bag. And then wouldn’t you know it? 

The damned thing somehow makes its way out of the drawer and into your mouth. Ugh! And to make matters worse, you accidentally manage to snap a photo of yourself sucking on it, right as you hollow-out your cheeks.

What a damned shame!

Talk about a true comedy of errors. It’s so funny that you end up giggling uncontrollably for the next ten minutes. But you know what makes it even better? The moment your thumb slips and hits send.   

After that, it becomes downright hysterical. 

___

Later that afternoon…

Letting out a yawn, you lean back in your chair and stretch before deciding to call it a day. You’d just spent the last several hours going back and forth with a client about a project that was supposed to be in its final stages.

As in almost fucking finished.

But they’d since decided to shelve half of the damned concept before pivoting and heading in a different direction. Which was fine, so long as they were willing to pay. 

Pressing the heels palms over your eyes you reason that you've done enough. You really did love your job. But sometimes it could also be unbelievably taxing. 

Powering down your laptop, you decide to go ahead and ice the pound cake that is currently cooling on the counter. While you’re at it, you go ahead and prepare everything you need for the fajitas as well. Since the steaks were already doing their thing in the marinade you’d thrown together earlier, there really wasn’t much left for you to do outside of slicing vegetables. 

Once that’s done, it only takes you a few minutes to whip up the simple glaze. After all, it was just powdered sugar, condensed milk, lemon juice, and a dash of vanilla extract. Whisk together until smooth and then bam! 

Sweet and sticky deliciousness in a bowl. 

You’re in the process of slowly drizzling it over top of the cake when you hear Andy walk through the front door. Moments later, he strides into the kitchen clutching a box under his arm.

“Hey there, Andy Bear!” You chirp as you go to set the bowl in the sink before rinsing your hands and drying them on a towel. Earlier mischief forgotten, you launch yourself into his waiting arms. “I missed you!”

“Did you?” He asks, tilting his head. “That's interesting.” 

“What do you mean?” Confused, you place your hands on either side of his face, trying to pull him in for a kiss. But instead of cooperating, he sets you back on your feet with a sigh. 

“Don’t worry about it, baby girl." Andy sweetly boops your nose before removing his suit jacket. "Honestly, it’s my fault for not taking care of it yesterday when I had the chance.”

“Huh? I’m afraid you’ve lost me.” Rising on your tiptoes you offer up your lips again, only to pout when he denies you. Again.

What the hell? And what was in that box on the table.

“Just let me go and get changed and then I’ll deal with everything.” Shaking his head, your man lets out a dark chuckle as he turns towards the stairs. “Including you.” And then he’s gone, disappearing around the corner in the direction of his bedroom. 

Oh shit.

Your stomach drops as every single bratty act you’ve committed over the last thirty-or-so hours suddenly comes flooding back. You really should’ve gone home to wash your hair or something like you'd said you would. Not that that would’ve helped you any. 

The man knew where you lived. And he had a fucking key!

Feeling a little on edge, you head for the hallway, stopping at the bottom of the stairs. “I baked you a cake, baby!” You call out. “Want me to cut you a piece?”

“I’ll be down in a moment!” He responds. “Why don’t you go open your present, hm?”

Rocking on your heels for a second, you decide to go back to the kitchen, wondering what the hell he possibly could have bought you. And then you remove the lid. 

Okay, well, so far it appeared to be nothing more than an overabundance of pink tissue paper.

You’re just about to reach inside when you hear Andy return to the room. “Go on. Dive in.” You jump when one of his brawny arms snakes its way around your waist, as his soft lips delicately caress the sensitive skin just behind your ear.

“Wh-what is it?” 

“Aw. You really want me to spoil the surprise?” He presses a kiss to your temple. “I don’t think so, baby girl.”  

Your pulse spikes as you tear at the thin sheets to reveal...a pair of lacy black panties. 

“Keep going.” Andy urges as his talented fingers slide beneath your shirt to rest on your abdomen. “There’s more.”

Next you find a black device that looks suspiciously like a remote, followed by an oddly shaped vibrator, and a pink paddle with the words “for bad girls only” emblazoned on the front.

“Well, don’t leave me in suspense, sweetheart.” He brushes aside your curls so that he can rest his bearded chin on your shoulder. “What do you think?”

“I don’t think I quite understand.” You mutter as you dangle the skimpy scrap of fabric from your index finger.

“Well, in that case, allow me to explain.” Andy gives you another kiss, this time on the back of your neck. “See, since you love playing games so much, Daddy took some time out of his very busy schedule to go out and buy you a few things so that we could play together. Isn’t that nice?”

“Uh huh.” You breathe as your traitorous core spasms. “Wait.” Licking your dry lips, you try to turn in his arms, but his grip remains steadfast. 

“Oh no.” He murmurs before picking up the paddle and pressing it to your chest. “I’m ready to play now.” The gruffness in his tone has your panties positively soaked. “So here’s what we’re gonna do. Are you listening to me, sweetheart?”

You nod quietly, suddenly having a tough time getting a full breath of air into your lungs. 

“You're going to kick things off by stripping for me. And then you’re going to bend over the edge of the table and offer up that gorgeous ass.”

“But I -” You’re interrupted by a hand fisting itself in your hair, jerking your head back with just enough force to make you whimper. 

“I don’t want to hear another goddamned word out of that sexy little mouth.” Andy growls, licking the curve of your cheek. “Not one, unless I grant you explicit permission to do so. Understand?”

You nod again as a delicious shiver courses through you. 

“Good. Now strip. You have thirty seconds, baby.” He then steps to the side so that you can quickly go about removing your clothes, starting with your shirt. With shaking hands you work to unfasten your bra before letting it drop to the ground - baring your breasts to your man’s hungry gaze. 

Next up are your thin cotton shorts, followed by your underwear. But instead of allowing them to join the pile, Andy holds out his hand to you. Giving them over to him, you watch as he slowly brings damp cotton to his nose, inhaling your sweet, earthy scent. A strangled groan escapes his throat as he repeats the action. Once. Twice. 

“You smell like heaven.” He hums, the gravely purr rumbling in his chest. 

Finally naked, you lower yourself across the table, letting out a tiny shudder as your nipples make contact with the cool surface.

“Good girl.” Andy praises as his large, slightly calloused palm settles on the small of your back. “Now, we can continue with the game.” He steps around you to pick up the vibrator and panties that are laying on the table, just out of reach. 

“As you probably already guessed, this toy very similar to the one we keep upstairs. Except there are a couple key differences. The first one being that it’s controlled by that little handheld remote right there.” He places the device in question into his pocket, a hint of a mocking grin flitting across his lips. “Yeah, that part’s meant for Daddy.”

And then he continues on, purposely ignoring the way you keep rubbing your thighs together. 

“As for the second special thing…you see these? These are magnetic wings that lock together with this piece right here, turning these into one hell of a good time.” 

Oh good God. He was talking about vibrating panties.

"Doesn't that sound fun, little girl?" Your man's all-too enthusiastic response elicits another whimper from you, followed by a whine as he slowly begins dragging the fabric up your legs and over your ass.

You do your best to focus on your breathing when he gently adjusts the vibrator, making sure the toy is securely nestled against your swollen, needy clit.

Once he’s done, he then cups a possessive hand over your mons. “Who’s pussy is this?” He rasps, as his voice borders on something feral. “You can speak.”

“Y-yours.” You respond with a shaky whisper.

“Damn right it is. And who do you belong to? Who's the rightful keeper of this beautiful little body?" He grinds heel of his palm against your cunt, enjoying the sweet sounds you make. "Wanna hear you say my name, baby.”

“You-ooh! I belong to you, D-daddy.” 

“Good girl.” Andy purrs. “Proud of you for answering correctly.” 

“Ooh!" Without warning, you feel the toy suddenly come to life, sending low, even vibrations pulsing through your vulnerable core all the way down to your toes. “Oh, fuck - god, Andy!” Your eyes fall shut as the power increases.

“Did I also mention that this thing is equipped with twelve different settings?" Oh fuck! "I mean, the box did promise hours of fun. So, I think it’s only fair that we give it a good test drive. Maybe even leave a review.”

“Ungh!” You cry out as he ratchets up the speed once more. "Daddy, please!"

Andy ignores your cries as he silently debates whether or not he ought to gag you

“Glad you agree, baby girl. Tell you what, I’ll be nice and let you keep playing with your new toy during your spanking. In fact, you even have my permission to cum.”

“Fuck!” You dance on your toes as the sensations threaten to overwhelm you. “Too much!” 

“It is not.” Andy scoffs, issuing a sharp slap to your upturned ass, courtesy of your brand new paddle. “Knock it the fuck off before I really give you something to whine about.” And then he chuckles before adding. “Oh, wait. That’s exactly what I’m about to do, isn’t it?” 

The paddle cracks across your ass again, forcing you to bear down on the toy as your empty walls clench around nothing. 

Your orgasm was so close, but what worried you was that you knew he was only just getting started.

“And when we’re through with this part of the game, I’ll help you with the fajitas.”

Crack! Crack! Crack!

“Ow, Daddy!” You hiss at the sting - which only serves to intensify the pleasure pulsing through your poor, soon-to-be overworked pussy. “Damn!”

“Mm. Swear, you look so pretty like this.” He delivers the next blow before turning up the vibrations another notch. “In fact, I think we’ll keep playing through dinner. What do you say?”

“Argh! Fucking bastard!” You wail as you stomp your foot, which only earns you an underhanded slap to your cunt.

Crack! 

“Okay, have it your way, sweet girl. Daddy will check in with you after dessert.”

END

[bloodiedrogue]

ONLY FOOLS FALL

SUMMARY: Upon arriving in Baldur's Gate, Zayis decides to pay her old flame a visit... much to Astarion's dismay.

PAIRING: Astarion & Zayis (OFC)

WORD COUNT: 12,356

WARNINGS: 18+ sexual content, penetrative sex, teasing, blood sucking as a form of foreplay (therefore mentions of blood), feelings realized, first confessions, angst with a happy ending.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: It's been months of brainstorming this particular scene and the build up that goes along with it, but I think I finally got it. For context, Vesryn is Zay's sort of ex who she never properly breaks up with due to getting kidnapped.

I know this chapter is a bit of a doozy but please, if you at all like my writing I beg you to give this one a shot. It's probably one of my favourite things I've written and I'm very proud of it. :')

Also shout out to @novarunestone specifically for helping my brain push through. You're the best, dude. <3

CHAPTER LIST / MASTERLIST

-

She’s at his door before she can even think to leave, rapping her knuckles against the grain —trying her best to swallow down the knot that resides in her throat. Pushing against the walls of her esophagus, she can feel the obstruction blocking her airway. 

Forcing a heavy sigh to escape as she reaches up to touch it, she can’t help but wonder if this is her body’s way of enacting guilt. Considering her mind’s already jumbled up enough as it is, she wouldn’t be surprised if it was. She did throw a knife at her partner’s head for Gods’ sake, so the least she could do is feel the events of her shitty behaviour. That and to properly apologize. Which is ultimately why she’s here, standing in front of her old home, running her fingers nervously along the length of her neck.

As it swells with anticipation she can feel her chest tighten and her hands begin to sweat. Each symptom growing the longer she stands there, waiting; wondering whether or not he’ll answer the door. 

Deep down, there’s a part of her that hopes he doesn't. A part that screams for her to turn on her heel and dash back to camp without even looking back. A part that thinks the unspoken word between two separating parties is more than enough closure to get her through. It’d certainly be the easier option, right? The one with less baggage. Perhaps if she could just accept that she’s still that same asshole that left all those weeks ago rather than the better person she’s currently trying to be she could just pretend like she never knocked on the door in the first place. Up and leave and never speak of this again. 

Biting her bottom lip in annoyance, she knows she can’t. Thanks to Wyll and his stupidly decent advice, she’s too far gone with this whole making amends thing. Having promised the warlock she’d at least try to apologize, the mere thought of failing makes her want to crawl all the way to Avernus and never let another soul see her face again. Either that or hole up in the woods somewhere. Whatever happens first, really. 

However, considering the more likely option being Avernus, she continues to stand there, idly scratching the side of her neck, feeling the ends of her claws dig through her dirtied flesh. 

Almost immediately, the feeling of it makes her cringe and drop her hand, realizing just how stupid she must look, covered head to toe in dirt. Reeking heavily of sweat and viscera —two scents you definitely don’t want to bring home when you’re about to beg for forgiveness for apparently running away with a vampire. 

Which obviously isn’t the case. Or, at least wasn’t. Nowadays she’s not quite sure what to think about that whole situation. So most of the time she just blocks it out entirely. Ignoring the fact that the line that was once drawn between her and Astarion has begun to blur into something new. 

Something she has to apologize for otherwise the guilt might eat her alive. So, she bangs on the door again, this time using the edge of her fist to repeatedly slam against the wood, gritting her teeth in frustration. All while praying to whatever God might be listening that for once, instead of fighting, Vesryn just accepts her apology.

Because truthfully, she’s not sure she can take the rejection right now. Not even when she hears him grumbling on the other side of the door, making her realize she’s still pounding against it. Her hand repeatedly colliding until it’s eventually torn from her grasp and the man she once called her partner is standing before her. 

“Zay?”

He looks older somehow. Worn out. With eyes that were once large, round orbs of obsidian are now narrowed and soaked in age. A newfound darkness cradling each one with exhaustion. 

Pressing her lips together she nods her head at the sound of his voice and continues to stare, taking in all his features. Picking apart the way his face twists from confusion to annoyance, ultimately falling on something unfamiliar that eventually disappears inside the crook of her neck.

“You’re alive.”

He says it as if it’s a question. Whispering it against the shell of her ear, she barely hears it at first. Too shocked to process the position that she’s currently in, all she can do is stand there and try to repeat the phrase in her head. Allowing the individual sounds to fully absorb before she’s nodding her head again. “Hi, uh, yeah.” 

He pulls away, still resting his hands on her arms. “You escaped.”

Suddenly confused, she raises a brow, watching his expression change again —this time back to annoyance, prompting her to realize what he means. “Um, not exactly.”

“Not exactly? What do you mean not exactly?”

She opens her mouth to respond before closing it back up again, unsure how to explain the events she’s recently experienced without completely freaking him out. 

“Can I maybe come inside? We should probably talk.”

At first, he doesn’t respond. Instead, he just stands there, staring. His mind most likely reeling from the fact that his ex is now standing at his doorstep in the middle of the night, covered in shit, most likely preparing to tell him that the man she left with is still very much in the picture. 

None of which bodes well for her ever-growing fear of rejection. Especially considering that if the roles were reversed, she’d already be slamming the door in his face, telling him to piss off. So the fact that he hasn’t done that already feels like a bit of a miracle. One that continues to bless her once he eventually pulls away, motioning towards the inside of the house with a tired sigh. 

Awkwardly, she smiles in response and enters, taking in the familiar scenery. Feeling its presence hit her like a ton of bricks as she forces herself further inside, ignoring that knot again. Pushing whatever anxieties that spread through her in order to move to the dining room table and pull up a chair. 

“I’m sure you have a ton of questions…” 

Trailing off, she lets out a nervous laugh and begins to play with the end of her tail. All the while Vesryn just stands at the other end of the table, looking down at her like with such empty eyes that she can’t help but clear her throat and pivot. Opting to just ramble instead of waiting for an answer, knowing deep down he might not give her one. 

“First off, I need you to know I didn’t leave willingly.”

His brow quirks up at that. An air of interest coating his features, urging him to take a seat. “That’s an awfully vague way to start a story.” 

“I mean, I’m not trying to be vague,” she replies, suppressing the desire to roll her eyes. “Honestly, I just —I don’t really know how to explain what’s happened.”

“You don’t know how or you just don’t want to?” 

“Both, I suppose.”

All he does is snort and raise his hands to his face, dragging them down until they’re resting over his mouth, showcasing his never-ending lack of patience. “You’re aware of how late it is, right?”

This time she does roll her eyes. “My apologies sir, I didn’t realize I was being such a burden. Do you want me to go?” 

Out of habit she then goes to stand, prompting Vesryn to angrily grip her wrist. “Oh for fuck’s sake —would you please just sit down and tell me where you’ve been?”

Equally as angry, she swears at him under her breath before crossing her arms over her chest. Using the pressure to subdue the need to panic as she tries to collect her thoughts before ultimately ending up with, “Astarion and I were kidnapped.”

Almost immediately she can see the lack of interest in his eyes begin to develop. How they quickly start to glaze over at the mention of Astarion’s name, reminding her just how unenthusiastic he is to hear about him alongside what he assumes is some sort of excuse.

“Obviously, the details are a bit complicated but the gist of it is that we were taken by mind flayers and now we’re trying to find a cure,” she tells him, but again, all he does is stare, his gaze set directly against her’s —devoid of anything other than disinterest and doubt.

Once again, it makes her want to leave. To repeat time and storm out like she did all those weeks ago. As terrible as it sounds, she knows it’d at least get his attention. Maybe even stir him enough to actually listen to what she has to say without immediately discrediting the truth. 

“We met others on the ship. People infected like us. They’re in danger, Ves. I’m in danger.” 

“Aren’t you always?” 

“Not like this,” she tells him, swallowing hard. “Things are different. Bigger.”

He lets out a sigh. “Define big.” 

“The whole city going up in flames big.”

Shifting in his chair, she can tell he’s trying his best not to say what he really wants to. An act that simultaneously fills her with rage and relief as she watches him mull over her words, allowing them to fully sink in before humming in response. 

“Alright, I’ll bite. Explain to me how exactly you’re in danger?” 

Before she can even stop herself, Zayis is telling him everything. Relaying each point of the plot through nervous thoughts and shaking hands. Trying her best to allow enough time in between the more convoluted sections to really process the severity. 

And at first, it’s a struggle. Considering Vesryn’s almost as stubborn as she is, she can tell right off the bat it’s hard for him to accept. After having been convinced of this completely different narrative for so long, she can see it in his eyes he’s struggling to trust what she’s saying. To take all the outlandish things she’s relaying at face value after all the grief she’s put him through. 

But then about halfway through she notices the switch. That subtle moment of realization taking over, forcing him to listen. To hear all the stressors of the last few weeks repeatedly piling on top of her. To understand that the night she left without a trace wasn’t just the result of a conscious choice she had made but rather a mistake in location at the worst possible time. 

By the end of it, he’s got his arms across his chest, one of them angled up so that he can stroke his chin in bewilderment. “Gods, you’re actually serious, aren’t you?”

“Unfortunately.”

“Fuck.” He shakes his head. 

In response, all Zayis does is shoot him a tight-lipped smile. One that feels so misplaced that it ends up falling almost immediately. “I just thought you should know, you know?”

“Know what?”

“That I didn’t walk out on you,” she admits, her throat aching from the explanation. “That I still care about you in some way.”

It’s at that point she can tell that Vesryn knows. Written plain as day across his face, she can feel it in her chest, too. Pounding against her already damaged frame. Echoing through the edges of her organs, causing them to twist in discomfort. 

Considering he’s always been a pretty intuitive guy, it shouldn’t come as a surprise to her but still, the second he eventually lets out a huff and awkwardly grins to himself, she can’t help but feel the guilt double in size. Triple even, watching the way he looks around the room, avoiding her pleading eyes. 

“Somehow I always knew,” he says, still smiling. Still shaking his head in protest, as if he can’t quite fully accept it. 

“I know.” 

“You just —you always talked about him, you know? Whether it was about his terrible personality or his disgusting behaviour, it was like his presence was constantly taunting me. Making me feel like the least interesting man in your life.”

“You weren’t—“

“I know,” he cuts her off with a raised hand. Something that would normally make her angry but right now just makes her confused. “It’s just… no matter how negatively you talked about him there was always this passion there. Like everything about him was actually worthy of conversation.” 

Letting out a dry laugh, he pauses to rub his face again, this time groaning through the process. “I guess, I just wanted you to talk about me like that. Just once so that I knew you weren’t getting tired of me.”

It’s at that moment Zayis feels her chest begin to break, the cavity of her ribcage splintering out to stab through her flesh. All at once, it hits the tenderest parts of her, ripping away what little composure she once had —filling her up with that same wave of emotion she’s been avoiding all this time. 

Leaning back in her chair, it immediately prompts her to blink back the threat of tears. As they begin to sting her eyes, she can’t help but focus on the pressure and how it weighs far more than it did when she first entered. How somehow, despite doing what she came here to do, this newfound information Vesryn provides just feels like another problem. Another issue added to the ongoing pile of things she needs to fix but doesn’t know how to. 

Which makes the once subdued panic inside her chest practically explode. Taking the form of shaking hands and shifting eyes, she can feel her breath start to quicken. The sudden lack of air located inside her chest making it difficult for her to breathe. 

Almost immediately Vesryn’s kneeling in front of her as it happens, taking her hands in his while looking up with concern. “It’s okay, Zay,” he tells her. “I’m okay.”

She doesn’t understand how it could be —how he could be after all that she’s done to him. Having fucked off without a single goodbye he should be the wreck who sits at the table, looking like a broken vessel with nothing else to give. The one who mourns for a life they could’ve possibly had if not for bad timing or poor communication or—

“I forgive you, yeah?” 

His voice is soft. A caress of sound that only further fuels her tears, realizing it’s her who’s crumbling. The one who’s broken and tired, unsure whether or not to let this go in favour of pursuing something new. 

“Why?”

“Because I do?” He shrugs. “I don’t know —does there have to be a reason?”

Before coming here she would’ve said no and called it a day. But now that she’s in front of him, debating whether or not she should fight for a second chance, she needs it. More than anything she’s ever needed in her life, she’s willing to demand it if she has to. 

Sensing this, all Vesryn does is sigh. Offering her a subtle nod, he then moves to stand while holding her head, allowing his fingers to gently push against the crown of her skull to calm her down. 

“Once you left I think I realized we were only together because it was familiar,” he says, and immediately she knows he’s right because, near the end, it was as if they were nothing more than two people sharing a space. 

Allowing the convenience of their arrangement to take over, no longer was there that initial spark they once had as kids. The one that drove them to care and want and grow. And because of that, by the time the kidnapping happened, it was obvious that they were well on their way to this same ending.

“I'm sorry, Ves.” 

Before she can even think she’s reaching for his torso, pressing her face against the side of his ribs as she wraps herself around. An act he responds to by hugging her shoulder with one arm, once again telling her it’s okay. 

“I promise we’ll make it out the other side,” he tells her, and somehow despite the cloud of doubt that seems to always circle her head as of late, she believes him. Feeling the truth of his words remind her that even though they’re not the same as they once were, that doesn’t necessarily mean that they can’t still be there for one another. 

“Gods, I hope you’re right because I really don’t think I have the mental capacity to become a mind flayer right now.” 

Somehow that comment manages to break the ice, causing both of them to grin as Vesryn rolls his eyes. “What? Not a fan of tentacles?”

All she does is scrunch up her face. 

“Oh c’mon! Might be fun!” 

“Define fun.” 

Peeling himself away, he wanders over to the kitchen and grabs a bottle off the shelf, placing it in front of Zayis before retreating back to his chair with a shrug. “I don’t know. Don’t they control people with their minds?” 

Almost immediately she reaches for the vessel in front of her, pulling out the cork with a loud pop!

“Sure, but they also eat brains which I’m not necessarily fond of,” she explains, taking a sip of the undisclosed liquid, feeling it burn the second it hits her tongue. 

“I mean, bit of brains never hurt anyone. Especially not you.” 

As she finishes sipping, she shoots him an unimpressed look. One that eventually makes the both of them laugh, prompting her chest to tighten. Her body somehow reminding itself of how easy things used to be.

“I swear if I do turn into a mind flayer you’re the first on my list of brains to eat.” 

“Really? Not the vampire?”

His voice is unnaturally smug as he says it. So much so that she’s almost a little surprised, watching the way he cocks his brow and reaches across the table to take a quick sip of his own. 

“How is he doing anyways?” 

“A bit forward, don’t you think?”

“Maybe. Last I heard though, you’re on borrowed time.” 

Pressing her lips together, she realizes then that he’s right. Now that they’re back in Baldur’s Gate it’s only a matter of time before they have to face their problem head on. A detail she hadn’t quite grasped yet, having been focused on getting here first. 

“He’s fine.”

Without warning Vesryn pushes the bottle across the table, smirking. “Just fine, huh?”

“Yup.”

“Not good? Great? Absolutely per—“

“He’s good,” she practically snaps, taking the few silent beats that pass to down a good portion of their drink.

“That’s good.” Nodding his head, he watches her take a few more sips, forcing back an obviously shit-eating grin. “Treating you well, I hope?”

He waves his hand through the air dramatically and immediately Zayis can’t help but groan and take another sip. Letting the liquid distract her from the roaming thoughts that keep entering her mind —forcing her to remember Astarion’s face and how unimpressed it looked when she left camp.

Somehow it makes her miss him. Despite knowing that she’ll return to his side amongst the others by the time the sun rises, there’s a brief moment where she’s staring at Vesryn that makes her panic. An almost anxious jolt of electricity firing through her nerve endings, causing her to twitch unfortunately in her chair. 

“He’s alright, I guess,” she ends up saying. “Still annoying as ever.”

“I’d be surprised if he wasn’t.”

“I’m sure you’d be surprised now, too.”

“What do you mean?”

At first, she isn’t sure what she means. But then she narrows her eyes and thinks really hard for a second, uncovering the truth. “He’s actually, uh, kind of sweet sometimes.”

“Really?”

Almost immediately, the simple confession takes both of them back, prompting Zayis to clear her throat and continue to drink, feeling her head whirl from the volume of liquor she’s managed to consume over the last few minutes; honing in on the sudden interest in Vesryn’s eyes.

“Can you please stop looking at me like that?”

“Like what?”

“Like you’re fishing for something.” 

Suddenly defensive, he scoffs and motions for her to hand over the bottle. “I’m not fishing for anything.” 

“Oh please, don’t think I don’t remember how gossipy of a bitch you are.”

All he does is smile, causing her to pinch the bridge of her nose and breathe, trying her best to remain calm. Because foolishly, now that she’s opened the can of worms that is Astarion, it’s like the man’s completely taken over. Seamlessly appearing in every corner of her exhausted mind, she can’t help but wonder how he’d react to this conversation.

Already she can hear him chastising her for skimping out on the details. Having practically memorized the inflections of his voice after years of endurance, she can clearly envision that cheeky little laugh of his. And how the way his hand might feel pressed against her cheek, taking in the frustrated expression that now coats her face.

The same one Vesryn immediately comments on. Pointing in amusement, he ends up asking her why she looks like that, causing her to cross her arms over her chest and shake her head, too stubborn to reveal the truth. 

“I see you're as emotionally distant as ever.” 

As he speaks, Vesryn just shoots her a knowing glance and slides their shared drink back to her. Barely batting an eye when she takes a few more angry sips.

“Am not.” 

“And childish.” 

For a moment she thinks about repeating history and grabbing the knife from her holster. But then she takes a deep breath and closes her eyes, forcing herself to calm down just as Vesryn laughs. 

“Shut up. You’re just saying that so you can get me to talk.”

“Is it working?”

Whether it’s the challenging way he approaches the topic or the familiarity of his presence, it unfortunately is. More so than she cares to admit as she rolls her eyes, opting to avoid the topic by asking him what he’s been up to. Forcing the conversation to pivot as she continues to drink, listening to all the mundane stories of their old life. All the jobs he’s taken and how he’s kept himself busy while she’s been saving the coast. 

And for a while, it’s kind of nice focusing on something else. Something simple and disconnected from the reality that she now finds herself in. So much so that she doesn’t even register the empty bottle now in front of her after Vesryn changes the topic again. This time transitioning to her friends. 

“You said that Ravengard kid was with you?”

Nodding her head, she then feels the entire room begin to spin around her. Echoing out in a series of waves, it’s as if everything’s begun to slow down. Her mind working to catch up with the rest of her surroundings. Somehow it makes her laugh despite how uncomfortable it is. The kind that Vesryn immediately clocks as an indication of her inebriation, making him sigh. 

“Probably shouldn’t have let you drink all that, huh?”

She hums in response and closes her eyes, feeling the weight of everything slowly drift away as her body starts to melt further into the chair. 

“How about I go make you a bed?” 

“No.”

“No?”

She blinks and laughs, forcing her eyes to focus on her friend. “I want to go home.”

“You are home?”

She shakes her head almost violently. “No, home.” 

He doesn’t know that home means camp. Or, more specifically, that home to her is where Astarion is. Nor does he understand the jumble of words that fall from her mouth immediately after. “Zayis, you are way too drunk to be arguing right now.”

“I’m not. I’m just saying!”

He can’t help but laugh as he stands up, moving towards her to help pull her to her feet. “Saying what?”

“I want to see Fangs,” she whines, and before she knows it she’s being guided towards the door by her old flame’s hands without another word. Tiredly leaning against his shoulder as they walk down the darkened street.

“Where am I taking you?”

Through slurred speech she directs him to her camp, explaining the quickest route with the kind of drunken hand gestures Vesryn can’t help but mock. 

“Shut up, I’m drunk.” 

“I can tell.”

“And I’m tired.” 

“No kidding.”

“I think I might be in love, too.”

At that Vesryn stops walking, causing her to sort of bump into his arm and swear under her breath, grumbling about his lack of coordination before the words she’s uttered circle back to her. Forcing her eyes to widen as her stomach starts to twist, realizing what she’s done. Registering the fact that she just admitted out loud that her feelings are valid and not just ridiculous moments of lust clouding her vision.

“I’m sorry, what?” 

Despite the context, Vesryn can’t help but laugh, watching as Zayis begins to breathe with her entire chest. The fabric of her tunic rising and falling in rapid succession as her eyes dart back and forth. 

“I think I’m in love with Astarion,” she then says before slamming her lips shut, feeling her face grow hot and her hands begin to sweat. Every part of her body working against her as she suddenly bolts down the street, listening to Vesryn’s footsteps work to keep up. 

“Wait a minute, how long has this been going on?”

Unsurprisingly, Zayis ignores him, swearing under her breath when she comes to a street she doesn’t notice, forcing Vesryn to grab her arm and redirect her. 

“Do you think he loves you back?”

“I don’t know.” 

“What do you mean you don’t know?”  

She repeats the same answer in frustration, throwing her hands up to cover her eyes, knowing now she’s fucked. Completely and totally fucked because despite knowing how foolish it is to fall in love with someone like Astarion she’s managed to do just that.

“Okay, well do you want to know?”

He asks the question like it’s a simply gained answer. As if asking Astarion about his feelings is something Zayis can do without feeling humiliated.

Because truthfully, she knows if asked, not only would she be met with that teasing voice of Astarion telling her I told you so regardless of the answer, but she’d also be forced to live with the fact that Vesryn was right all along.

“Can we please talk about something else?”

Quickening her pace, she can feel her legs begin to ache from the events of the day. All of the hours of travelling and fighting piling onto her weakened knees as she pushes forward. 

Watching her struggle, Vesryn follows behind almost cautiously, trying his best not to hover while remaining close. Well aware at any second she might just fall to the ground thanks to the alcohol. 

“I think maybe we should just get you home, yeah? I’m sure your boyfriend is worried sick.” 

Before he can even laugh at his poorly timed joke she’s turning to swing her fist at his head, causing him to grab her wrist in annoyance.

“C’mon Punchy, let’s not keep your leech waiting.”

Frowning in response she allows him then to guide her the rest of the way. Keeping his arm loosely wrapped around her shoulder for support, she dizzily latches onto his side, resting her head against his chest. Trying her best to ignore the sickness that resides at the base of her stomach as they continue forward, eventually making it to camp. 

“You know, this isn’t as bad as I thought it’d be.”

While glaring at Vesryn she can feel her head begin to pound. The space behind her eyes where the tadpole resides ringing out in a painful rhythm of words. All of them loud and irate, saying something she can’t quite understand.

At which point she begins to descend without warning, causing Vesryn to swear and catch her arm, watching anxiously as she moves one hand to her temple.

“Zay?”

When she doesn’t immediately respond he maneuvers her to the ground, kneeling in front of her with nervous hands to hold her face, searching for further signs of distress until she’s completely still again. 

“Sorry, that uh, happens sometimes.”

“What?”

“The tadpoles,” she mumbles, brushing his hands away to rub her eyes, feeling the pain still linger behind them but at a much smaller scale. “Sometimes when one of us gets a bit emotional or something they…” 

As she trails off with a yawn she attempts to mime the word connection by pressing her index fingers together in front of her. A motion Vesryn thankfully understands, nodding his head in response. 

“We don’t—“

The sound of a clearing throat pulls her away from the conversation. Her eyes shifting from Vesryn’s face towards a very pissed-off Astarion now standing in front of them with his hands on his hips. 

“Am I interrupting something?”

Instantly, both she and Vesryn jump to speak, their voices fumbling over each other until Zayis eventually turns back and frowns, prompting Vesryn to innocently raise his hands and stand up. 

“Ves was just bringing me home.”

“At this hour?” Astarion asks, his voice lower than normal. Angrier even. A rumble of sound emanating from his chest as he crouches down to face her —instantly smelling the drink on her breath. “Wait a minute, you’re drunk.”

“Am not,” she slurs, grinning. Expecting him to grin back or crack some sort of joke. Not shift his jaw and stand as he does, moving towards Vesryn faster than she can think to blink. 

“I always knew you were an idiot,” she hears him say, watching him reach for Vesryn’s clothes. Gripping the collar of his shirt with such ferocity that the only sound that Zayis hears after that is the sudden groan her old partner lets out.

Which makes her panic, realizing then that Astarion isn’t just pissed —he’s livid. Red not only in the eyes but also in the face, prompting her to try and stand up only to fall back down thanks to the lightness that travels throughout her head.

“What’d you do to her, huh? Get her drunk and then take advantage of her?”

Trying but ultimately failing to speak over Astarion’s angered assumptions, Zayis eventually opts to reach for the fabric of his pants instead. Pulling at the base of his calf to gain his attention, muttering his name through the mess of sounds until she’s been ushered to her feet by a pair of arms.

“I see the apology’s going well,” Wyll says, and immediately she whips her head to face him in response, taking in the humoured expression across his face before turning back to see the two men being ripped away from each other by Karlach’s brute force. Both of them continuing their attempts at violence. 

“This isn’t how we treat our guest, Fangs,” Karlach scolds, but Astarion’s already cursing Vesryn’s name. Using whatever insult he can think of to throw the poor man’s way. Ignoring Karlach’s plea for him to shut up even when she threatens to knock him out cold if he doesn’t behave.

Which only causes more issues when the rest of the camp begins to realize what’s going on. All of them piling out of their tents to watch this ridiculous display of angry men fighting over an issue neither of them really have much control over. Considering Zayis is drunk and now grumbling into the crook of Wyll’s neck trying her best not to cry at the sight of Karlach shoving Astarion towards Lae’zel, it’s obvious that the best thing to do is drop it. 

Or at least, put a pin in it until morning. Which is exactly what Gale suggests when he wanders towards Lae’zel’s side, smirking at their not-so-friendly vampire before making some sort of backhanded compliment that has Astarion lunging towards him with a hiss. 

“Alright, alright. No need to maim the wizard,” Gale mutters, darting back. “I’m just here for the show not to get roped into any audience participation.” 

After that, Zayis hears Wyll sigh in defeat as he runs his palm along the length of his face, trying his best to comfort her as she continues to wrap herself around him, digging her claws into his clothes while her tail grips tightly onto his legs. 

“I think we should probably get her some water,” he says, prompting Shadowheart to move towards Vesryn, placing a hand on his shoulder as she asks him if he needs any healing.

While shaking his head he ends up glancing over at Zayis who already looks like she’s dead to the world. Still grumbling incoherently under her breath, it’s as if her mind has been turned to sludge as Wyll drags her over to the fire, placing her gently on the ground. Practically forcing a stream’s worth of water down her throat by the time Shadowheart wanders over, casting whatever restoration magic she’s got left. 

“That fool of yours is lucky Karlach showed up when she did,” she mutters, moving to place either hand on Zayis’s face. Allowing the magic to spread through her cheeks like an icy veil, wrapping around heated flesh. Providing the perfect amount of relief for the tadpole behind her eye to settle back into its dormant state. 

“Is he okay?”

“He’s fine. Karlach’s taking him home.”

Letting out a sigh of relief, Zayis continues to drink through the process. Feeling the water soothe her aching throat as Shadowheart continues to speak, scolding her for being so stupid. 

“Gods, I can’t believe you let him get you drunk.”

“I didn’t let him do anything,” Zayis snaps, her eyes narrowing in annoyance, watching as her two friends share an unimpressed look. “I got nervous.” 

“And drank an entire bar?”

For some reason that makes Wyll snort, prompting Zayis to reach out and yank his horn, causing the warlock to groan and swat her away. “Hey! She’s right, you know!”

Regardless of whether or not they are, Zayis opts to go silent after. Sitting angrily between the two of them, she lets Shadowheart finish her spell before muttering out a quiet thanks. The kind that Shadowheart almost immediately reciprocates with an unenthusiastic no problem before retreating to her tent. Leaving just herself and Wyll to stew in the awkward silence of her actions as she continues to sip her water. Paying no mind to the curious eyes that dart between the camp and her face, picking apart the expressions that absentmindedly shift the longer she sits.  

“So, uh, do you want to talk about what happened or would you rather wallow?” 

Earning no response, Wyll sighs, prompting Zayis to look over with a frown. Both of them staring at each other, wishing that she’d just come out and say whatever needs to be said instead of rotting away, pretending like her actions are something other than self-inflicted wounds. 

“I promise no judgement, you know.” 

“I know. I’m just —I think I should probably talk to him first.” 

“Not sure he’s interested in talking.” 

Zayis snorts out of habit, moving a hand to rub her eyes, feeling her head swirl. “Fair. I probably wouldn’t want to talk to me either.”

“I’m sure if you give him time,” Wyll suggests, and even though she knows he’s right all she can feel is the lack of patience beginning to settle in. The undeniable urge to jump to her feet and run to his side almost doubling on impact. The temptation to confess all the thoughts that have plagued her mind over the last few weeks making their presence known.

It forces her to chug a few more glasses of water in silence. Trying her best to remain as rational as possible. Or at least, until she’s able to fully stabilize her thoughts in the form of a pros and cons list that Wyll almost immediately interrupts. 

“I know you say you are, but are you truly alright?”

At first, she doesn’t have an answer. Too focused on trying to figure out whether it’s a pro or a con to storm into Astarion’s tent, she hardly registers the words. Instead finding herself at a mental crossroads, debating the level of sobriety needed to confess one’s love before it becomes insulting. But then her mind catches up. Slowly but surely taking in the words. Feeling the genuine curiosity in his voice sound almost paranormal. As if he’s already used the tadpole to burrow into her mind and find the answer for himself.

Not that he’d need to, to know that she’s the opposite of alright. 

Even before arriving, she’d been on the absolute edge of sanity. Struggling to choose which battle to tackle first, since entering the walls of Baldur’s Gate it’s felt like she’s been pulled every which way. Slowly becoming stretched to the point of ripping. 

Which she wants to admit. But thanks to the guardedness of her brain, all she’s able to say is that she’s tired. That the well within her soul has sufficiently dried up leaving nothing more than a hole in the ground, waiting for its fill once again. 

With a sigh, Wyll slides a little closer and nudges her leg, offering support in whatever way he can as she glances at him, silently pleading for advice. 

“You need to rest, Zay.”

Genuinely curious, she looks at him with half-lidded eyes. The glassy look of drunkenness still heavily visible. “How?”

“By allowing your problems to run their course rather than trying to direct them yourself.”

Leaning forward, she groans into her hands. The emptiness of her head making it hard for her to understand the riddles Wyll often speaks in. “What the fuck does that even mean?”

Letting out a soft laugh, his hand finds its way to one of her horns to reciprocate that same push from earlier, forcing her to grumble under her breath. 

“It means you should go to bed.”

Groaning in response, she debates whether or not to argue, feeling her eyes shift towards Astarion’s tent —feeling that inevitable pull behind her eye, begging for her to curl up against his frame regardless of whatever fight might unfold. 

“Okay. But not because you told me too,” she eventually says, and Wyll just smiles and ushers her to her feet, forcing one final glass of water into her hand. 

“One more for the road, okay?”

All she does is nod her head and slowly make her way towards the tent. Staring intensely at the ground beneath her, she maneuvers around roots and rocks, trying her best not to let the remnants of leftover inebriation overtake her ability to function. 

Which proves easy up until she makes it to the tent. Feeling her vision shift in and out of focus as she attempts to push open the flap, there’s a moment where she sways back and has to catch herself, causing her lips to part into an awkward squeal. 

“What the hells are you doing?” Astarion says, and before she can even think to correct her footing she’s somehow pressed against his chest with her glass of water nowhere to be seen. Her body suddenly feeling warm thanks to the way his hands snake around her waist, tightly gripping the flesh beneath her shirt. Reminding her that despite the intimate position she finds herself in, he’s definitely still unimpressed. 

“How come you’re mad?” 

His eyes narrow, becoming two thin slits of rage that successfully scare her into submission, prompting her to swallow hard and sit up on her knees, feeling his hands tighten even more. “Are you seriously asking me that?” 

Following her lead, he forces himself to release her waist in order to lean into her, practically pressing his forehead against hers. “I mean, honestly, do you have any sense of self-preservation or do you just choose to act like an idiot?”

Immediately she blinks, processing his words. Marinating in the meaning until she fully understands. “You know, Vesryn isn’t an enemy —he’s a friend.”

“I’d argue otherwise, but I suppose your choice in friends has always been questionable.” 

Feeling the liquor rush through her system, she quickly reaches out to grab his shoulder, steadying herself against the sway that overtakes. Fully pressing her forehead against his despite wanting nothing more than to wrap her hand around his skinny little neck and—

“You didn’t tell me you were going to see him.”

Her mouth opens to respond —to tell him that it doesn’t matter— but then she stops, pulling away to explore the hurt expression across his face. Specifically the focused look within his eyes that fail to falter for even a second. 

“I didn’t think I had to.” 

“I suppose you don’t but—” 

“But what then?”

“But a courtesy would’ve been nice,” he practically snaps. “Or a simple warning at the very least —I think I deserve at least that.”

She looks at him confused then. Unsure what exactly he means, her lips part to ask, watching as his expression slowly matches hers. Both of them staring in anticipation for an answer that never comes. 

“You know I just went there to talk, right?” Her voice struggles through the fog that hits her head, causing her to frequently pause between words. “I didn’t go there to do whatever it is you’re…”

Trailing off, she wiggles her fingers, trying her best to insinuate that whatever assumptions he has are wrong. And that he’s being stupid, but she’s too drunk to incorporate that accordingly. 

So instead, she just settles for the former, watching the way his nose scrunches up, pulling at his upper lip to reveal the tips of his fangs. An expression that makes her wonder if maybe her words aren’t matching up with her thoughts, prompting her to sigh and move her hands to her face. 

“Fuck, I’m too drunk for this.” 

“Yeah, that’s becoming apparent.” 

For some reason that makes her laugh weakly. “I just… I don’t want to fight anymore. Not for this.”

“Then what do you want to fight for?” 

Pushing her hands further into the sockets of her eyes, she feels her head pound in frustration. All of her thoughts piling to the forefront of her mind, screaming at her to settle this once and for all. To tell him that she doesn’t want to fight anymore. To say that, instead of pressing their knives to each other’s throats time and time again, all she wants to do is toss them aside and kiss the scars they’ve inflicted. 

But because she’s drunk —because she can’t think without the whole process becoming far more difficult than it should be— all she does is move into him. Allowing her body to speak for itself in the form of a desperate hug, she wraps her arms around his shoulder before he guides her down into the bedroll. 

“Alright, easy does it, darling,” Astarion grumbles, his angered tone failing to match the sweetness of his words, prompting Zayis to frown and turn her back to him. 

“Don’t call me that. I’m mad at you.” 

“Since when?”

“Since you decided to be mad at me for no reason,” she says, causing Astarion to huff as he begins to run his fingers through the roots of her hair —feeling the familiar presence of her tail slowly wrap around his thigh. 

“Once again, I’d argue such a statement but clearly you’re too far gone to be able to defend yourself.” 

“Fuck you, I can do anything.”

“Agree to disagree.” 

“Agree to —shut up, Astarion.” 

Releasing a heavy sigh, he reluctantly continues his ministrations despite the abuse. Pressing the pads of his fingers deeply into the base of her skull. 

“Go to sleep, Zay. We can fight in the morning.”

In response, she grumbles out in protest. Ultimately failing to convey her disinterest as his fingers lower to the back of her head, following the line of her braid until he hits the end and begins to undo it. Then, with careful hands he works his way back up, feeling her slowly drift beneath his touch.

“Gods, sometimes I wonder if loving you is even worth the headache,” he tells her, unaware of the sliver of consciousness that manages to linger. Even when she nervously stirs at his words, wondering if she heard him correctly. 

Because there’s no way he loves her, right? Too focused on what he gains from being around her rather than her herself, there’s not a single chance he cares. That’d be impossible. Unthinkable. An admittance so beyond logic that as she lays there, eyes shut tight, she has to force herself to ignore it. To chalk his strange confession up to the liquor poisoning her mind with outlandish thoughts. 

Which thankfully isn’t hard given how drunk she still is. In fact, with very little effort, it only takes a few minutes of Astarion’s fingers moving through her hair to fully render her useless. Her body curling under the blanket, unaware of the restlessness Astarion experiences as the hours pass. Oblivious to the fact that, even before she wakes up, he’s already gone. 

Becoming nothing more than a vacant space that leaves her confused when she eventually rolls over hours later, groaning at the pain that rips through her skull, remembering everything that happened. Specifically, the words he may have said to her last night —the ones so far from reality that she can’t help but wonder if it was merely just a figment of her imagination. 

Hearing them echo in her mind, she palms the sockets of her eyes and sits up, feeling the aches and pains of the previous hours seep into her bones. Taking refuge in her muscles to the point that not even she can deny how much of a struggle it is to crawl around the sun-kissed tent, searching for the cup of water Wyll gave her last night before downing it in one huge gulp. 

Unsurprisingly it feels like a gift from every God combined. A blessing of liquid that provides her with enough energy to shakily crawl through the opening of the tent, squinting at the newfound light that hits her face.

Somehow it’s already sunrise. Even though it felt like she was maybe asleep for a couple of minutes, it’s obvious now that she got at least a few hours in. Something she’s thankful for as she wanders over to the pile of supplies by the put-out fire, rooting through the various bags until she finds a canteen of water. 

At which point she begins to drink and aimlessly walk, forcing her tired legs to move through the length of the camp and past the tree line, weaving through the obstacles of nature until she’s standing at the edge of a hill. 

Looking up, there’s a moment or two where she debates turning back. But then her body starts to move without warning, pushing her further and further past the threshold of capability she should have after a night of heavy drinking and emotional warfare. Disregarding the burn that envelops practically every fibre of her being until she hits the top.

Then she’s doubling over in pain, on the verge of tears, feeling the desire to give up filter through her determination, making her second guess her actions until she hears someone huff. 

“You look like a corpse,” Astarion says. “And not a fresh one either.”

Forcing out a laugh, she squints to see him sitting on a stump a few feet away with a mug of tea in his hand —another at his side like always. “Morning to you, too.” 

“Morning.”

His voice is quiet as he turns to look at the rising sun. Ignoring her as she moves toward him, taking the cup that rests beside him into her hands before she sits in its place. “Thanks.”

Surprisingly, he doesn’t respond. Instead, he just sips the tea and continues to soak in the light as he often does. Paying no mind to Zayis as she takes a sip of her own, staring at the side of his face.

“Did you rest at all?”

All he does is shake his head. 

“When did you leave?”

“Not long after you fell asleep.” 

Humming in response, she turns away to look at the sky herself, allowing her mind to drift to last night. Hearing that single word uttered over and over again in her mind until it doesn’t sound like a word at all. 

“Can I ask you something?”

“Depends.” 

Releasing an annoyed breath, she takes another sip before she continues. “Always does, doesn’t it?”

“Mhm.”

After that, she sees him sort of smirk against the edge of his cup, prompting her to quietly groan and ditch the idea altogether. Feeling the walls of her heart begin to make their way up again —discarding whatever idea might’ve crossed her mind to even think about letting them down in the first place. 

Something Astarion immediately notices. Having failed to ask her question, he quickly turns to face her, exploring her features —noticing the sudden lack of curiosity that immediately befalls her face. “That’s it then?”

“What?”

“No question? No pretty little morning argument?”

She looks at him confused, her jaw dropping slightly open. 

“Not even a single threat relating to bodily harm?”

“I—“

“My, my, have you gone soft or something, darling?” he asks; his tone changing. Morphing to have this venomous quality, Zayis immediately scoffs at. 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“Oh, I don’t know.” He shrugs his shoulders and turns away, pretending like there’s no reasoning behind his words. Acting as if there's no fight to pick despite there very clearly being one.

“You know, if you have a problem with my behaviour you can just come out and say it instead of waiting for me to figure it out myself.” 

In response, he lets out quite possibly the fakest laugh she’s ever heard. “I could. Though, we both know that even if you did figure it out, you wouldn’t talk about it anyway. You don’t do emotions.”

“Neither do you.”

“Actually I—“

Without warning she stands up to chuck the mug over the edge of the hill, groaning from the pain of her muscles —trying her best to ignore the way they pull in strange ways as she turns to glare in his direction. “No, you know what? You don’t get to act like an asshole just because you’re mad that I didn’t tell you I was seeing Vesryn!”

“Oh, please, I’m not mad about that!” Standing up, he discards his mug on the stump and takes a step forward. Inserting himself into her space, watching her follow his lead until they’re practically nose to nose. “What I’m mad at is your lack of attention —for your inability to look around and see what you so clearly deserve!”

“Deserve?” Pressing a rough hand to his chest, she forces him back only to step forward, watching his eyes narrow in annoyance —his hands darting out to grip her wrists once she’s close enough. “You think this mistreatment is what I deserve?”

As she struggles against his hold, both of them bare their teeth in frustration. Neither one of them willing to admit their respective thoughts until Astarion’s eventually the first to cave, growling under his breath.

“No, but sometimes I think you believe that,” he says, his voice lowering. The sound of it reverberating through his chest like an avalanche Zay can’t help but stand at the bottom of, wondering when she’ll inevitably perish beneath it. 

Because that’s what it feels like sometimes, being around him. Oftentimes while attempting to navigate all the feelings that erupt each time he picks a fight, she has to hear things she doesn’t want to. To listen to the truth time and time again, despite wanting nothing more than to run from it. Almost every time it makes her breathless, hearing the way he picks her soul apart each time she gives him the chance. Feeling fine one moment and lost the next as he continues to speak. 

“Is that why you won’t talk to me? Why, despite all the times I’ve confided in you, you refuse to offer the same in return? Because you’re punishing yourself?”

Taking it all in, her gaze flickers down to his hands, watching them slip up her wrists, slowly moving to turn her palms to the sky so that he can gently rest his own on top. Inhaling deeply, it’s as if the weight of them are suddenly all over her body. Pressing roughly against her chest and arms —grabbing hold of her feet so that they keep her in place despite wanting nothing more than to run. To swallow whatever pride she has left and disappear for good. 

To pretend like he isn’t working up to some huge confession despite wanting nothing more.  

“Zayis?”

“What?”

She doesn’t mean to snap. But regardless, the word comes out like a bite, latching onto his throat. The tips of them diving into his flesh before he can even think to recoil. 

It makes him falter for a second. The entirety of his body twitching against the rise of her voice before he eventually puffs back up again, sighing so hard the only thing she feels afterward is the echo of his breath. 

“Gods, for once will you just fucking talk to me?” he then pleads, gripping the base of her fingers so tightly she ends up wincing. “Please.” 

“What do you want me to say, Astarion? That I’m punishing myself because I’m scared?”

“If that’s the reason, yes!”

“And what if I don’t know the reason?”

“Then—“

Suddenly, she rips her hands from his to move them to her face, pressing the pads of her fingers roughly against her temples. Shakily circling the flesh as she heavily exhales, trying to collect her thoughts as he takes another step forward, tugging her close by the waist. Forcing his fingers beneath the hem of her untucked shirt. 

“Tell me then. Are you punishing yourself because you feel guilty for what you’ve done? Or are you punishing me because the mere thought of either of us deserving each other is too much to bear?” 

It’s the kind of question that has her fearing for her life. Regardless of how many enemies she’s fought over the past few weeks. As she stares into Astarion’s eyes, watching the deep red rings nearly disappear behind narrowed lids, she has to force herself to stay. Knowing that if she doesn’t, she’ll just wind up back where she started: all alone, wishing just once she could have something real.

Because with Vesryn, it never was. Despite the adoration that still presents itself each time they’re together, that’s all it ever really grew to become. Two people admiring each other for reasons unrelated to love. Not people who fought tooth and nail just to earn the bare minimum. People who, despite everyone telling them to quit while they’re ahead, continued to choose each other above all else. 

Which makes looking at Astarion that much harder. As he bears his soul in his own way, asking her for something in return, it makes her realize that the reason she fears so much isn’t because she feels guilty for abandoning Vesryn but because she fears the judgement of it. Always self-critical of her own actions thanks to the scrutiny of her upbringing, it’s hard to look at what’s in front of her and not assume the worst. Considering they already bring out the worst in each other pretty much constantly, it’s obvious there’s always been some reservations. Despite being fully aware of their similarities and the chemistry that presents itself when needed, at all times there always seems to be a voice at the back of her mind telling her she’s stupid for thinking things might work out.

Because honestly, it probably won’t. Not with the way Astarion’s looking at her with those eyes or the way he’s practically clawing at her hips, begging for her to stay. Coaxing her into this false world where the two of them fall in love and get the happy ending neither of them really deserves. 

It isn’t realistic. Or truthful in any way, which is why when she speaks she doesn't lie or even coat the truth in honeyed words. 

“I don’t feel guilty,” she starts, dropping her hands to gently hold the crook of his elbows —feeling her tail follow behind and absentmindedly slink around his waist. “Ves and I —we weren’t good together.”

“Why?”

She looks away, pursing her lips as he nudges her closer. Pulling her eyes back in almost immediately. Keeping her there with him no matter what. “We never had this.”

“And what is this?”

“Lust? Love? I don’t...”

Trailing off, she shakes her head and closes her eyes, hearing that voice inside her head telling her this is wrong. That he and her and everything shared over the last few weeks has been nothing but a ploy. A tactic used to get what he needs out of her before he—

He interrupts her thoughts by grabbing her chin. Running his thumb along the space just below her lip, he then cocks his head and sort of smiles. “This isn’t just lust, you know,” he tells her, and suddenly it’s like she’s back at the tiefling party again, catching his gaze between moments of mingling, unable to deny the mutual attraction as he inevitably flirts his way beneath her clothes.

“It isn’t?”

Softly, his finger rises to touch her lower lip. Pulling it down ever so slightly, she sees his lips part into a toothy grin that has her heavily breathing, wondering if this is it. The moment she completely falls apart into his arms with no escape plan. The one where he says those magic little words and she falls headfirst into the palm of his hand.

“Not anymore.”

“Then… what is it now?” 

Whether it’s because he doesn’t know or he wasn’t expecting her to ask, Astarion’s rendered speechless. With his mouth partially open in surprise, not a sound comes out once the question is asked, prompting Zayis’s stomach to twist into knots so far beyond untangling that she honestly feels like she might pass out. 

Because of the sheer anticipation alone, she’s already struggling to breathe. Feeling her lungs begin to cave under the pressure of his silence, she finds herself acting before thinking. Moving before speaking. Granting herself the chance to take matters into her own hands as they rise to cup his cheeks. 

Beneath her fingertips, he feels colder than she remembers. Stinging her digits like slabs of carved-out ice, she lets her thumbs trail over the peaks and valleys of his face —exploring the highest points of his cheekbones down to the hollowness of his under-eyes. Memorizing every part with careful hands. Watching his expression change as she begins to lean in, bumping the tip of her nose against his before letting out the shakiest breath that’s probably ever existed. 

“Well, whatever it is, I hope it’s worth the headache,” she then says, feeling his hand slip from her chin to wrap around the back of her head. Both of them moving in to cross the one boundary that’s never been crossed. Neither of them caring that in the process their fangs knock haphazardly together before quickly finding their rhythm. 

Which surprises her if she’s honest. After always feeling like they’re on opposing sides, for a moment it doesn’t make much sense to her. As his lips gently shift to slot themselves against hers, it shouldn’t feel this perfect. It should be difficult like everything else. A battle of power and tension. Not easy. Not like she’s breathing or walking or driving a knife into someone’s chest. 

No, it should be harder than this. More complicated. A process so painstakingly awful that her mind should be telling her it isn’t worth it and run.

Except she can’t, can she? Not when his hands feel like they’re moulded to her frame —how his palms seem to rest perfectly against her head and hip, still pulling her in. All while slowly devouring her mouth with careful nips and licks that have her practically clawing for more. Her hands exploring his neck and hair, unable to choose which spot to settle into. 

It makes him grin against her, prompting her to frown in response, not sure why he finds the act so funny. Or why he ends up pulling away so quickly afterward, brushing away loose hairs that have fallen in front of her face. 

“Bit rude of you to throw my own words back in my face like that.” 

Almost angrily she reaches down to grip the collar of his shirt, attempting to shut him up with another kiss but failing when he grabs her wrist. 

“Greedy little thing.”

“Shut up.” 

In response, he hums in amusement and leans in to graze her ear with his lips. “One taste and you’re already begging for more, hm?”

“Gods, you’re insufferable.” 

“And you’re just pathetic, aren’t you?”

His lips peel into a smirk that has her angrily maneuvering him back to her mouth, digging her fingers into the roots of his hair as well as his shirt —ignoring the way he laughs through another hum while giving in. 

A laugh that has her heart foolishly swelling against her ribcage, threatening to burst as he begins to drag her down towards the ground, neither one of them caring how the dirt instantly clings to their clothes or how itchy the grass feels against their exposed skin, because right now, all they care about is this. These somewhat tender moments spent discarding shirts and pants —both of them awkwardly laughing through the mess of limbs that bump against each other in the process.

Somehow, all of it feels too good to be true. Having waited years to properly feel his hands trailing up the length of her spine and his teeth nipping at her flesh as she rests on top, it feels like a projection of her desires come to life. The way he palms the back of her head, guiding his mouth to a particularly supple part of her neck. 

It immediately makes her eyes flutter shut, waiting for the moment he decides to strike. Becoming nothing more than teeth and hands working to take their fill. As she lies on top of him, breathing so hard she’s certain she's probably damaged her lung in the process, she can feel his tongue teasing the area. Poking out to coat her skin in saliva before he presses another opened-mouth kiss and pulls away.

“Can I?” he asks, and before she can even think she’s nodding mindlessly. Allowing whatever he wants to happen because the fight’s died out. Whatever need she once had to hold power over him lost the moment he smiles and kisses her lips, sucking away her air before he does the same with her blood.

At which point she’s almost certain she’s going to pass out. With the lack of oxygen and now that familiar pain plunging into the side of her neck, it’s a miracle that she’s still able to stabilize her body. As he begins to push in, she can’t help but jump from the contact, realizing how different it feels in comparison to something like her wrist. 

Because despite having experienced the sharpness of his teeth followed by the languid lapping of his tongue against far less intimate places, this feels completely different. More euphoric and intense —something she has to push through as the pain begins to meld into pleasure as the seconds pass.

Which isn’t all that difficult. Not when they’re holding onto each other for dear life, every so often shifting to get a better angle. Moaning under their breaths for different reasons despite sharing the experience. No longer trying to suppress the feelings that stir when Astarion inevitably pulls away, dripping in blood that she immediately moves to wipe away. 

“You eat like a starved boar,” she says, trying not to giggle at the way he chases her blood-stained fingers, somehow still desperate for more. 

“And you moan like a banshee.”

“I do not!”

Without warning he begins to mock the sound of her voice, throwing his head back, causing her to press her palm fully over his mouth. 

“Do you ever stop?”

His voice doesn’t carry through her hand so she reluctantly drops it, giving him a pointed look only to receive another grin. “Only if you want me to,” he then says, and almost immediately she feels her face begin to heat up, realizing that she doesn’t. That instead of stopping and taking a second to talk or even breathe all she wants is more. 

So, she responds with another kiss. Not caring about the taste of her blood on his lips or the desperate way she falls slack against his chest, feeling him twitch against her. As she licks the seam of his mouth right open, hungrily pushing her tongue to meet his own, she doesn’t care that he’s adjusting her hips. Grabbing hold of her flesh to position her over the tip of his cock.

With nothing but the sensations of their bodies hurriedly working to become one, she hardly registers anything other than the head teasing her folds, failing to fully enter since she keeps squirming. Something she doesn’t register until he bites her lip a bit too hard, prompting her to pull away and narrow her eyes, watching him frown. 

“Stop moving,” he says, but like always she ignores him, moving whatever way her body decides is right until he’s angrily groaning and turning them over, pinning her against the grass. “Brat.”

“Asshole.” 

He leans in to steal another kiss while using his hands to hold down her hips, feeling her grind against him. “Thorn in my side,” he mutters. 

His voice vibrates against her mouth in a way that has her absolutely reeling. Forcing her hands to dip down to his chest, tracing the carvings of his muscular structure as her tail wraps tightly around his thigh. 

“You’re lucky you’re pretty.”

“Pretty?” Somehow he sounds surprised. “Is that a genuine compliment?”

“Maybe.”

He hums and releases one of her hips, moving to grip his cock, giving it a few tentative strokes before lining himself up again. “Care to grace me with another one?”

Once again teasing her entrance, she finds herself shifting upwards, chasing the high of him. Following his sex in absolute misery trying to get him to give in without the need for praise.

“Or perhaps I should give that mouth something else to do?” 

Before she can even think of a clever response he’s moving in. Slowly dragging through her, making sure that the process of it all is almost painful due to its lack of speed. Stretching her out, there’s a brief moment where she has to reach for his arms. To tether herself to him in some other way as he moves just shy of the hilt, leaning down to grin. 

“I’m not hearing any words coming out of that mouth of yours.”

At first, she breaths, adjusting to the feeling of him slipping inside. Trying her best not to focus on the way she instinctively clenches around as she grits her teeth. 

“C’mon now,” he coos. Then ever so slightly he pulls back, dragging the pleasure out of her throat in the form of a moan. 

“Fuck, I love you,” she says, and immediately they both freeze. Neither one of them able to fully register the words until she opens her mouth again, stuttering out an apology. Scrambling to sit up and backtrack only to find herself being pinned back down and taken over.

Before she can even think the wicked snap of his hips quickly becomes enough of a distraction to forget what she just said. Thanks to the way he abruptly pushes and pulls only to slow it all down, it’s as if the regret evaporates into thin air. The phrase itself turning nothing more than a memory as she lets her hands roam across his back.

Now pressed against her, she feels his palm circle around to the base of her spine to create an arch. Providing both of them with a more comfortable angle for him to rut inside her, hardly caring that his pace has fallen out of time. No longer thinking about the finer details. 

Moving in tandem, their lips part so that she can finally breathe, showcasing the stains of blood that cover the lower half of her face, prompting Astarion to smile. 

“You’re perfect,” he tells her. “Better than perfect.” 

And in the moment, she’s tempted to ask what that means. Or to poke some sort of fun in return, but there’s too much happening. The overwhelming sensations of his cock and hands and the way her entire stomach jumps at the sound of his words becoming far more important than her habit of gaining the last word. 

Which only helps build the tension between her thighs. As he continues to jut forward only to slip back, suddenly there’s an additive of movement against her clit. The presence of trailing knuckles brushing, moving much slower than his hips. 

Almost lazily, they glide across her nerves in circles, steadily adding to the collection of pressure. Forcing the pulsing stack of pleasure she feels to become too much as she lets out a pathetic whine.

It’s the kind that has him falling apart. No longer able to keep any sort of pace at all, it’s as if he’s suddenly lost in the dark, struggling to maintain the path set out before him. Forgetting all about past instincts as drops to her chest, kissing her face and neck —licking away remnants of blood before continuing down. 

“Don’t stop,” she says, and even though she wouldn’t put it past him for doing so out of spite, she’s thankful he doesn’t. Instead, discarding all semblance of sense to guide her over the edge. 

Applying a rough bite to the top of one of her breasts, it’s at that moment that Zayis feels the scales tip in her favour. Manifesting in violent tremors that wreak havoc throughout her body, it’s as if she’s lying against the shore, letting the waves lap at her skin. Allowing their strength to pull her in without protest. 

Still above her, she can feel Astarion continuing. Too wrapped up in the feeling of her walls contracting on instinct, he sometimes falters but refuses to quit. Unable to stop even when she’s trying to pull away, the sensation of her orgasm becoming too much.

Because the feeling of that combined with the way he’s touching her —the way he’s pressed against her, practically consuming her skin with his sharp teeth— is hedonistic. An act of pure indulgence that has her joining it, allowing her tail to tangle around his waist as he continues to fuck her through her climax. Forcing her fingers to find a home in his hair, coaxing sweet sounds of pleasure from his pretty little lips. 

“Come for me,” she tells him then, pressing a kiss to his head, watching his neck crane upwards to capture her gaze as he heeds her call, quickly spilling out inside her cunt. No longer able to suppress the shakes that rattle against her thighs, she lets out a soft laugh.

Which prompts him to look up at her in confusion after he’s finally settled down. Noticing the warmth of her features just staring at him. “What?”

Almost immediately, she bites back a grin, trying her best not to make some obscene sound when he eventually slips out of her and falls to her side. “Nothing.”

Now on his back against the grass, he narrows his eyes at the sky above before glancing back over, shaking his head at her comment. Reaching out to playfully smack her face to the side before releasing a sigh. 

“You’re lucky I love you too,” he says, staring at her face —watching it quickly dart his way with widened eyes and parted lips. An obvious lack of thought gracing her mind until everything comes flooding back. 

Then all at once, every reservation disappears. Every hesitation or doubt ceasing to exist the moment she sees the subtle smirk that spreads. How it renders her beyond uselessness, unable to reply let alone breathe. 

“Rendered speechless?” he then teases, using what little energy he has left to prop himself up and lean over her, brushing his nose against hers. Letting the skin-on-skin contact further fluster her system. “That’s new.”

Greedily, she raises her head to kiss him. “So is telling me you love me.”

“So is…”

He trails off, unable to come up with a viable answer, prompting her to smirk back. 

“Gotcha.”

In response he reaches down to pinch her hip, making her squeal. “Careful now or I might put that mouth to better use.”

“Mm, maybe you should,” she teases, but before he can respond there’s a rustle in the bushes, prompting them both to stop in their tracks as they look down the path, noticing a familiar elf stepping towards them. 

Which makes Zayis swear under her breath. Pushing Astarion away, she hears him make a sound of disappointment as she scrambles for her clothes, tossing her tunic over her head before moving to stand —stopping at her knees when she sees Halsin look their way. 

“Ah, I see you two have decided to patch things up the old fashioned way,” he comments, smiling between the two of them. Failing to care about the state of their dress before he continues to walk past them with the gentle wave of his hand, causing Astarion to snort. 

“You know Halsin doesn’t—“

She tosses her pants at his head before he can finish, grumbling in embarrassment as he throws the fabric aside, once again pinning her against the grass with a rough kiss.

-

@poohxlove @gaiasmight @sassy-stupid @novarex @v-gremlin @sapphiccloud @lipstickghoulie @kuroitsukyo @jjfchk @idiotsatan @bluestuesday @bloopthebat @art-by-greenie @heneralmoon @sukunababe @dreamingaboutyousworld @ranfithegood @haniscrying @liadamerondjarin @the-lake-is-calling @marina-and-the-memes @rookieoftheyear @zraloci-cpr @kaetmo @snickerdoodle-daydream @wowowwild @d1anna @raswiet @conniesbbymama @venus-wrts @demonicthorns @kihten @sanscas @spammypasta @leighsartworks216 @rose-gold-blue @p1ssmagg0t @hellish-writes @ghostinvenus @otayz @sexysquatch @sleepyeclair @colorful-anxieties @alina-exe @lillifer @girlwiththepapatattoo @acelin-ginsberg @pinkuranium @catrad0rable @scarletrosesposts @qwnamidala @itsrosebabe @bunnyperi @queenofcarrotflowers-s @tatumadams20 @spkyxszn @chlort @f3v3rs @awkwardwookie @joy-the-reader @warm-milk-with-honey-blog @vertigocrime @iyis @wildpiper @pebblethestone @tillywasneverhere @bex-03 @revemiya @staticspouse @itzagothamcitysiren

(tags continued in reblogs)

[lykaonimagines]

Mistletoe - Sherlock x Reader

Meant to have this up by Christmas, but I still wanted to put it up :) Might have rushed the ending a bit, but hopefully you all like it ^_^

Paring: Sherlock Holmes (BBC) x Detective F!Reader

Word Count: 2,486

Description: When an argument finds Sherlock and Y/N under a mistletoe together in the center of Scotland Yard, Y/N uses the moment to spite Anderson... and maybe for some other reasons too. 

Other Things: Establishing relationship. Embarrassed Sherlock. Mistletoe making them realize feelings trope. I just don’t like Anderson 🤷🏻‍♀️

Warnings: Some swearing. Suggestive. Making out and flirting, but not particularly NSFW.

Masterlist

“Sherlock you know we need a full write up of the case,” Lestrade sighs as he walks through the precinct with Sherlock, Y/N, and John at his heels. 

“I fail to see why John or I need to be here while you write up a report Gram,” he pouts, crossing his arms as they walk.

“You were part of solving the case, we need your side of it. As I’ve told you a thousand times before.”

“I’m sure Y/N could adequately give you that information, she was beside me nearly the entire time. Frankly she’s the only one that kept up this time, and this is the job she’s paid to do in this building. Our presence is entirely unneeded.” 

“Runs around behind you for three days straight and you want to abandon me to paperwork at the first opportunity,” Y/N teases, lightly elbowing the detective. “I see how it is.” 

“Oh, and how is it Detective Y/L/N?” He counters, turning toward her as he lets John pass them both. “Do I have to hold your hand for the paperwork as well?”

“Yes, just like how I held your hand when you nearly fell off that rooftop.” 

Sherlock’s mouth opens then snaps shut quickly, a frown pulling at his lips. “If it was such an inconvenience you could have let me fall.” 

Looking over at the brooding detective, Y/N loops her arm through his and pulls him closer, “I would think we’ve worked together long enough now Sherlock, that you know I’d never let something like that happen to you if I could do something to stop it. And not just because I generally try to protect people if I can in this job.” 

“Oh, then why me specifically?” He challenges, bringing the two to a halt. 

“Well I-” she begins before being interrupted by Lestrade’s voice. 

“Looks like we got two under the mistletoe over here!” He shouts loud enough for all the offices and desks to hear. 

Y/N and Sherlock freeze as all eyes turn toward them, her arm dropping from his as they both glance up to see the festive plant hanging over their heads. 

Their gazes both drop slowly from the offending plant to one another, Sherlock’s eyes suddenly wide with fear. 

“Greg don’t make her kiss the freak, whatever punishable offense she’s committed isn’t that bad. Firing her would be kinder,” Anderson says with a smug smile from his desk. 

Sherlock’s face contorts briefly before looking to the floor at the comment, his usual snarky reply strangely absent.

“Sherlock?” She whispers, he glances up at her quickly, an unfamiliar emotion in his eyes that he seemingly tries to push away. 

Setting her jaw sternly, she glances at Anderson with a scowl before grabbing ahold of Sherlock’s lapels.

“Y/N-” he begins before her lips press firmly to his own. 

A sound of surprise escapes his throat as her lips move on his, his own tightening beneath hers a second later. His hands drift up to her cup her jaw as she opens her mouth to his. 

As his tongue touches hers, their moment frozen in time shatters, breaking apart immediately as whistles and catcalls finally reach their ears. 

Flushed red up his neck and cheeks, his lips wet and already slightly swollen from her unexpected onslaught, Sherlock stares back at her with a look of surprise and embarrassment. 

“Alright?” She asks quietly under her breath, smoothing his lapels back down under her hands. 

“I believe so,” he responds equally as quiet, his eyes searching her intently. “Possibly.”

“Is everything… ok here?” John asks as he approaches the two, his eyes flickering between them. 

“Why wouldn’t it be?” Sherlock snaps back, turning his face away from John. 

“Just give us a minute,” Y/N reaches for Sherlock’s sleeve and pulls him quickly behind her toward the break room. 

Pulling the door open, she sighs in relief to find it empty. Tugging him in behind her, she drops her hold on him as the door shuts behind them. 

They both steal glances at one another, the drip of the coffee machine the only sound in the room. 

Taking a step back, Y/N crosses the room and tears open the fridge, snatching a water bottle from the bottom. She tosses it to Sherlock as she walks back.

“And this is for…?” He questions. 

“You’re dehydrated, clearly haven’t been drinking enough while we’ve been on the case,” she shrugs and nods toward it. “Drink up.”

“You’ve deduced that have you?” He asks with a raised brow, opening the bottle and taking a long drink. 

“Your tongue was in my mouth, I didn’t have to deduce anything,” she grins, bursting into laughter as he momentarily chokes on the water and glares at her. 

“Was that necessary?” 

“It was rather funny.” 

“Yes, well,” he glares at her and sets the bottle down on the nearby counter. “If we’ve just come here so you can inform me you disliked it and clarify that it only happened to spite Anderson, you can save your words, it’s obvious.”

“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you be wrong twice in one sentence actually.”

Sherlock’s brow furrows and he crosses his arms tightly around himself, “Explain.”

Suddenly finding interest in her fingers, Y/N looks down as heat pools in her cheeks, “I’m sorry. I’m nervous and I’m making a mess of this. I meant while annoying Anderson was the reason it happened so quickly, it wasn’t the only reason I did it. And I most certainly didn’t dislike it. Pretty far from that actually.” 

Looking up at him, he tilts his head and she continues, “I also wanted to apologize for not asking first. His comment about you set me off, and I just went for it.”

“You didn’t just kiss me to spite him?” He asks incredulously. “You mean to say… that you…” 

“Wanted to kiss you? Yes,” She finishes as he stares at her and blinks rapidly. “I know. I’ve heard you’re married to your work and don’t do that sort of thing. But I think you deserve the truth after that at least. Lestrade has known for awhile, he teases me about it. Probably why this happened at all today.”

“You’re part of my work,” he finally says sharply, visibly cringing at his own words. “That is to say… my work is not in the way of… more.” 

“You would want that?” She asks in surprise, her own eyes widening. 

“I… enjoyed the kiss,” he admits. “I wanted it to happen.”

Stepping in closer to him, Y/N carefully takes Sherlock’s hands in her own, “So you’d be amenable to doing that more often then?”

“I’d be amenable,” he says softly, his eyelids lowering as he ducks his head down. “Very amenable indeed.”

“Good,” she barely whispers over his lips before sealing them together. 

His hands drop from hers, finding her hips and pulling her in closer as his lips move eagerly against her own. 

Pulling her lower lip into his mouth, nibbling at her lip before soothing it with his tongue. She groans lowly into his mouth, her arms wrapping firmly around his neck. 

His hands shift to the back of her thighs, encouraging her to jump up and wrap her legs around his waist. 

Her lips break from his, trailing sloppy kisses from the edge of his mouth along his jaw.

A low growl rumbles in his chest against her as her lips reach just below his ear and sucks at the skin there. Maneuvering them around, he presses her back into the nearby wall and adjusts his hands to firmly grip her behind. 

Y/N’s fingers tangle in the curls at the nape of his neck, lifting her lips from his skin and chuckling as she looks at the reddening skin. 

“Just marked me have you?” Sherlock asks with amusement. 

“Mhm, maybe got ahead of myself there. I’ve wanted to get my mouth on your neck longer than is decent to admit,” she grins and leans her head back to see his face.

“I’m learning all sorts of things about you today aren’t I Detective Y/N?” He grins back at her almost shyly. 

“I suppose you are,” she shrugs and presses her forehead to his. “I would like some clarification from your side though.”

“You need clarification?” His brow raises. “I’ve currently got my hands on your arse, and you’ve got your legs around my waist. I think there’s little room for interpretation.”

“Well I meant, what did you mean by wanting more? Are you just wanting a friend with benefits, or something more committed.”

His brow quickly furrows at the question, his head tilting as he studies her, “I can’t pursue this if you aren’t mine, only mine. If you don’t want to commit to me-”

“Good,” she says interrupting him and pressing a brief kiss to his lips. “I didn’t want to assume. I’m perfectly happy committing to this with you. I had thought you would be the one to not want that kind of commitment.” 

“I don’t have much experience in that realm. And I suspect it’s going to be intense once I allow it all out,” he warns. 

“Well we’ll figure it all out together. I want this Sherlock, with you.”

Sherlock leans his head forward, briefly burying his face against her neck and exhaling contentedly. “Plan to be spending far more time on Baker Street.”

“Of course,” she replies, running one of her hands through his hair. “We should get back though, I’m still technically working.”

“You’ve been working nearly three days straight, your shift is over,” he grumbles against her skin. 

“Well it is, once we finish that paperwork you were going to abandon me for,” she teases lightly. 

Groaning unhappily, Sherlock pulls his face back and lets Y/N down to her feet, “Fine I’ll assist you. But only so you can leave faster. I’ve got a shower, clothes you can borrow, and Chinese takeout nearby the flat, so there should be no issue with you just coming straight back home with us.”

“Oh really, that’s what I’m doing?” She questions with a playful smirk. 

“You can’t expect me to be perfectly fine with us going to our respective home after just these ten minutes, now that we’ve gotten to this point,” he pouts and crosses his arms. 

“Good point. Though I’ve never seen you in anything but a suit, do you own other clothing I can wear? Otherwise I do have to drop by my flat first.”

Rolling his eyes, he reaches out to lightly grip her chin, “Do you think I sleep in suits?”

“Hmm,” she hums and looks up at him. “Admittedly most of my thoughts of you in bed haven’t involved clothing…”

Sherlock’s face flushes again and he presses his thumb to her lower lip, “I’ve gotten myself a handful haven’t I?”

“I think that would be true both directions,” she adds.

“That would be a fair deduction,” he agrees releasing his hold on her and offering his hand. “Let’s go get the paperwork settled then? The sooner we can leave the better.”

Her hand slips into his, a half smile on his lips as they exit the break room and head back toward where they had left John and Lestrade. 

“£20 on that they’ve all achieved fuck-all in that time and have been standing around gossiping like school children,” Y/N jokes, smiling at the near snort that leaves Sherlock. 

“I don’t bet against the obvious dear,” he remarks as they turn the corner and find themselves the center of attention once again. 

Standing up straighter, Sherlock ignores them and pulls Y/N along with him toward Lestrade’s office. However, just as they reach the doorway, he pauses. 

Taking a step back he whistles, “Anderson!”

The man in question looks up in disdain.

Sherlock turns his head sharply making the now bright red patch just below his ear deliberately obvious and winks smugly, firmly gripping Y/N’s hand and heading into the office. 

“Was that entirely necessary?” She chuckles, glancing at his self-satisfied expression.

“Entirely. For several reasons. The most important being he still had hopes you’d be his next free weekend affair.”

“He WHAT?” She shouts her lip pulling up in disgust. “I’d never in a thousand years, what the fuck.”

“I’d told him before you would be appalled by the idea, he called it jealousy and that I needed to ‘butt out.’ Not entirely inaccurate. Had he managed it, I’d have told his wife myself out of spite.”

“Surely you knew the possibility was zero,” she says with a raised eyebrow. “Even if you didn’t realize my feelings for you. Me being interested in Anderson? A married man and an asshole. What a catch.” 

“Are you two about done?” Lestrade calls out from his desk, motioning to the empty chairs beside a very smug looking John. 

“Good news I’d presume?” John asks as the two of them take their seats. 

Sherlock rolls his eyes and reaches over to lay his hand on Y/N’s knee, “Let’s just get this over with so we can all go home.”

“In a hurry to go somewhere?” Lestrade asks with a grin. “Any reason why?”

“Not at all Deputy Inspector.”

“Well if that’s the case, maybe you can stay and help with-” Lestrade starts before Sherlock cuts him off.

“The perpetrator was the affair partner of the wife. The wife was part of the plot, for life insurance money so her and the affair partner could leave the country with the money. She however put in her notice to leave her job prior to her husband’s death, he bought the poison through the city’s homeless network, left his finger prints on the victim’s mug. We found crumpled love letters in his trash, incriminating texts in their exchange. He informed his family he’d soon be moving abroad after he ‘took care of a problem’,” Sherlock rattles off and stands up quickly from his seat, grabbing Y/N’s hand to pull her from her seat. “I think we’re done here. John can fill in anything we may have missed, he took notes. Good day Deputy Inspector.” 

Giving an apologetic smile to her boss as she’s pulled from the office, Lestrade sighs and shakes his head with a slight smile and waves them off. 

“Off to Baker Street are we?” She asks with a laugh as he navigates them through the precinct and out the entrance into the frosty night air. 

“Precisely,” he grins and pulls her in closer to wrap his arm around her shoulders. “We need time to properly bond, I don’t plan on letting go of you for some time.”

“Is that right?” She teases and slips her arm under his coat to wrap around his waist. “Sounds like a good plan to me.” 

 ----

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[criminalmindswhore]

Dark Pieces of Me pt. 2

Hey girl queen pussy bosses, here's part 2! This part is going to be LONG because I want to keep it in 3/4 parts. Enjoy!

Also fun fact, Mateo is an actual food stand across the street from San Fran PD, look it up.

TW: violence, mentions of organized crime, terrorism, mentions of suicide

Part 1 | Part 3

The sun crept into the curtains of the cheap motel you booked somewhere in Kansas. You didn't sleep but you knew you needed to take a break. Your hand was throbbing from clutching your gun the entire night. You stood up from your post in front of the door and gathered your small bag of items. Stepping into the tiny shitty bathroom you splashed water on your face and caught a glimpse of your reflection. Dark eyebags, perfectly braided hair, a bruise under your eye from the fucker who tried to steal your gas pump. Thoughts of Emily lying on your couch, watching Pulp Fiction made you feel a little comfort. You knew you would never see her again and it made your heart feel so heavy. Shaking away thoughts of what could have been with Emily, and the stolen thoughts across the bullpen. You grabbed your bag, tucked your gun into your waistband, and walked out into the morning sun. You walked into the office and dropped the cash needed for your stay on the counter. "Good morning Ms. Jones, how did you sleep?" The sweet old lady who owned the place asked. "Good, much-needed rest from driving. Thank you for the sandwich last night, my stomach was screaming at me." The owner nodded, "Of course hon, you looked like you needed some sunshine in your day." You have no idea. "Do you have any maps? Mine got soaked last night." She nodded and slid one across the counter. "Have a good drive." You smiled, a seemingly sweet old lady running a motel all alone? She was a badass and you knew it. You did a quick, good scan of your car looking for any signs of tampering before entering. San Francisco was going to be torn to pieces if that's what it took for you to find him. His words repeated in your head over and over, "If I will kill 5 people for every one of our men you killed. You will be last."

In San Francisco, the team was split into two. One team focused on finding you, the other on solving the current case. You walking out had to do with this case, if they would figure it out they could figure out where you were. Emily's nails were in rough shape, she was worried sick over you. She knows where your head is, she knows how dark that place is. She knows the fear and the numbness that comes with running. She had no idea what you did for work before the BAU, it hadn't come up. You've heard of her past, how she left the team. You were her replacement, you saw the damage it did. "How could you do this to them after seeing that?" She thought. "Hey Prentiss, we got something." Derek popped his head into the office where Emily was fixated on your phone records. She stood up from her chair, smoothed out her shirt, and followed Morgan. "Hi Em." Garcia spoke up from the phone, Emily smiled, "Hi Pen." Penelope needed to hear her voice. Pen was the only one to notice how you two disappeared one night during dinner. Bombarding you both with questions the day after. You both maintained that you felt sick and Emily came to help you. "So after fist fighting the United States government I got Y/L/N's record unsealed. We know this case wraps around her. Before she came to the BAU she worked as an undercover OP for the National Counterterrorism Center. Specifically, she led a mission on a domestic terrorism cell that was building up to a big event." Everyone in the room took a deep breath, this was all bringing up old wounds. All eyes turned to Emily and JJ, they knew most about this. JJ spoke up, "Pen send us every single file you have and look for any spottings of the cell she was after." Penelope sighed sadly, "That's the thing. Y/N took all of them out on her own. Her cover was blown in the middle of their hub and she had to fire her way out. The only survivor is paralyzed." Hotch interjected, "Who is it? He's training someone to get his revenge and Y/N is at the top of the list. This cell didn't disband, this person rebuilt it." An officer stepped into the conference room, "We've got 5 more bodies."

Your heart pounded in your chest as you crossed over the bridge into San Fran. You knew he was here, you knew he had men. The sun beaming into your eyes as the sunset. You drove until you found an apartment for rent in the heart of the city, apartments were always checked last by Henry. "1 bedroom, 1 bath, $500 a month" Perfect. You called the number and told him you would pay the first 2 months in cash today. He met you out front in under an hour and gave you the key. You shook his hand and then bang. A shot rang out as the man hit the ground. You immediately took cover behind a car, drawing your gun. Fuck, there goes my apartment. You returned fire in the general direction until the shots stopped. You stayed behind the car until you felt it was clear. Running to your car and speeding off, leaving your $1000 on the sidewalk. You weren't even scared, you just felt rage. These were innocent people he was killing instead of coming for you. Why not come to DC and take you out? Why cause a scene? Then you remembered how the now deceased boss, Mateo had a thing for the dramatics. Your burned phone rang, "Jones." Your voice is stern.

"It's me Y/L/N. I have an update for you." Your handler spoke on the other end of the phone. "What's up?" He sighed, which was never good with him. "Henry's son was the one who called in the bodies, he knew that many would get your team there. Henry wants your team. This is all a trap for you and them." You came to a hard stop, pulling a sharp U-turn booking it to the station. "Heard that." The anger in your voice is apparent. "Y/N, do not do something stupid. You need to get out of there." You scoffed, "And leave my team in this trap alone? This is ending now. He can come for me, but my team is over the line." You hung up, throwing your phone onto the passenger seat. Anger ran hot in your veins. You were going to kill him tonight.

Hotch was standing there with Emily just waiting for something to click. They knew who was in charge, but they had no idea where to even look for him. Emily was growing impatient, "I'm going to get some air." She slammed the file down, storming outside. The night air felt like the first air she'd ever breathed. There was no smell of burnt coffee, cop sweat, and old takeout. She sat on the steps of the station looking at the lights of the city. She knew you spent some time here, but had no idea it was for work. Let alone that you were calling the shots on who died and who didn't. It made her feel so horrible to know you have carried around that guilt for so long, in silence. She understood why you couldn't say anything but it didn't make it hurts any less. Across the street, she saw a food stand called Mateos. She wandered over there to get a snack and clear her head. She couldn't think straight. She was so worried about if you were safe and thoughts of Ian danced through her head. As she stepped up to order she caught a glimpse of someone who looked like you discarding their food and shuffling away silently. "Y/N? Is that you?" You ignored her, quickening your pace. You had to keep your distance or they would take her out. She started running at you, and you could hear her pace pick up so you ran at a fence, scaling it in under 2 seconds and disappearing behind it. Emily came to a stop at the fence, knowing you were long gone. "Y/n please come back. We can help. Please." A tear slipped from her eye. That was probably the last time she would see you and she knew it. As you turned the corner your breath was out of control. That was too close.

Bang.

You and Emily both drew your guns. You ducked behind a dumpster, but the bullets were coming from the other direction, a second shot rang out and hit you in your shoulder. "Fuck!" You screamed out, taking off on foot and down the street. Emily heard you yell and started running around looking for a way to you. She eventually climbed over the fence and found blood splattered on the side of the dumpster. Gun still drawn she called Derek, "Derek I just saw her, she's been shot. She took off again. She was right across the street." Derek called the others and ran out the door and to Emily. The team stood in that alley brainstorming for almost an hour.

Across town, you were stitching yourself up in a Chinese restaurant bathroom. The restaurant was closed, but you've picked many locks in your days. You winced as you wrapped a bandage you stole from CVS around your makeshift stitches. You knew they would probably reject but it wouldn’t be lone before you could get real medical attention. If you took out Henry the whole team would fall apart. After cleaning up after yourself you sat at a table in the dark restaurant using the street lamps outside to look at the files from when you completed the mission. He was somewhere in the city, and most importantly close to the station. You knew that he would want to be close to the team to taunt you. In the station the team had come to the same conclusion, Morgans phone rang. “Tell me something good babygirl.” Garcia piped off, “324 5th Street, there was an alert to a security guards phone about movement in the building. I pulled the footage, it was tampered with but our girl is there and so is Henry.” The team immediately went into gear. Emily streamlining to the cars, she was not going to let what happened to her, happen to you.