#no one was using and killing men like her | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

holylulusworld · 2 days

Text

Indecent Proposal (21)

Summary: Your boyfriend wants to be part of their empire. You are the pawn he’s willing to sacrifice.

Pairing: Mobster!Stucky x fem!Reader

Warnings: established Stucky, caring mobsters, pregnant reader, polyamory, fluff, romance, a little angst

Indecent Proposal (20)

Indecent Proposal masterlist

“Doll, you need to calm down. I’m fine,” Steve sighs deeply. He cannot stop you from cleaning his knuckles with a swap. “We want you to eat something and have a warm bath.”

“Y/N,” Bucky runs his hand over your back. “Stevie is right. Let him clean his knuckles. I’ll get you something to eat.”

You shake your head and grab Steve’s wrist when he tries to pull away. “No. I need…I need something to do to keep my mind off what happened. Please let me do this.”

Both men look at each other and swallow thickly. It was more than a close call. They believed you were safest at their home. How very wrong they were.

One simple lie and the woman attacking you sneaked inside their well-guarded home to fulfill her mission. – To kill you and your babies.

“Steve,” Bucky knows exactly what’s going on in his husband’s mind, “don’t. We couldn’t know she’d try to sneak inside our home. She was bold and determined, I give her that.”

“We promised Y/N to protect her and failed,” Steve sniffs. “How can she still feel safe if that woman could easily sneak inside our home.”

“The security was looking for Rumlow, not that nurse. How should we have known, Steve? Sometimes we fuck things up. It happens.”

“It cannot happen, Buck!” Steve angrily replies. “We have a pregnant wife, and that woman almost killed her and our babies!”

You wrap your arms around Steve’s neck. “It’s not your fault. Bucky saved me.”

“Because he’s a horny bastard,” Steve wraps his arms around you and brings you in his lap. “I don’t want to think about what could’ve happened if he wasn’t such a horny dog.”

“Same—” Bucky is unusually silent tonight. He blames himself for not walking you to the bathroom. If only he followed you the moment you told him you needed to pee, the attack could’ve been avoided.

“It’s not your fault either, Buck. You saved me with your incredible knife skills,” you drip your head to look at Bucky. “Come here for cuddles.”

“Only for a moment. I need to talk to Jake about the security cameras and check on the gate again. We cannot risk another lapse.”

Bucky joins you and Steve. He wraps both of you in a hug and nuzzles his face in his husband’s neck. For a few moments, he allows himself to be a loving husband and soon-to-be father.

The moment he leaves the room, he’ll turn into the stone-cold mobster his enemies fear. He’ll give Rumlow no chance to escape or get even close to you.

Steve was right. It’s hunting season and James Buchanan Barnes will be the hunter bringing Rumlow down.

“Barnes, you can’t be serious,” Natasha hisses. “I was nothing but loyal to you, Steve, and your organization. I’d never betray you.”

“You’ve been loyal to the money you got from us. Nothing else. You don’t know shit about loyalty and to die for the people close to you. If you are standing in my way in this, I’ll make sure that you get out of my way.”

“Bucky,” she tries to sweet-talk herself out of the more than dangerous situation she’s in. If Bucky knows that she warned Rumlow, and told him to leave town weeks ago, she will end up dead. Just like the nurse. “I don’t know what has gotten into him.”

“We know,” Bucky sneers at Natasha. “This is about some woman who didn’t respect boundaries. She tried to kill Steve to have me all for herself.”

Bucky points at the manila folder on Natasha’s desk.

Natasha quirks a brow. She opens the folder and thumbs through the pages. “I see. She killed herself.” She hums. “But what has this to do with Rumlow?”

“She’s his ex-girlfriend. He didn’t take it well that she left him to live a better life in the big city. Rumlow took it even worse that she killed herself because I wouldn’t let her murder my husband.”

“In other words,” Natasha sighs deeply, “your dick got you in trouble.”

“That’s not funny, Romanoff,” Bucky spats. “If you know where Rumlow is, this is your last chance to help us. Think about it.” He places an envelope filled with money on her desk. “I’ll give you a choice.”

“What do you mean?” She furrows her brows.

“You can stand there and lie to me to protect Rumlow, or you’ll take the money to go on a vacation after you tell me where he is,” Bucky slides a knife out of his sleeve. He twirls it between his fingers while keeping an eye on Natasha. “I cannot guarantee your safety if you decide on protecting him, though.”

“You’re threatening me, Barnes?“ She huffs to sound confident, but in reality, she fears for her life.

“No,” he steps closer, holding his knife in a tight grip. “I’m telling you exactly what’s going to happen.” Bucky takes another step toward Natasha to underline his words. “I do not threaten people. If I tell you that I’m going to kill you, then you’ll end up dead.”

She sucks in a breath. Natasha is by all means not a damsel in distress or easily scared. This doesn’t mean she she's not intimidated when an angry James Buchanan Barnes stands in front of her, a knife in his hand.

“You can have a good life, Natasha,” he whispers lowly. “Enough money to fulfill all of your wishes.” Bucky dips his head to look at the pictures on her desk. “If you want to leave town, we can arrange that too. New identity, new life. No problem.”

“I only need to rat Rumlow out,” she bitterly replies. “It’s like I killed him myself if I do so.”

“Natasha, he sent that woman to kill Y/N and our babies. If he wants us dead because his ex-girlfriend killed herself, fine. But he went after Y/N. She has nothing to do with this shit. Rumlow crossed more than one line. You know that.”

“He tried to kill the babies?” Her eyes widen, and she drops the picture in her hands. “Why didn’t you tell me this first?”

“I thought you heard it through the grapevine,” Bucky scoffs. “So, what will it be, Nat? Are you in or out?”

“I tried to save his life, believing he’s after you because he tries to bring your empire down. I believed he’s a good cop, nothing else, Bucky.” She drops the manila folder on her desk. “If this is a vendetta because of some girl, he’s all yours.”

Bucky watches Natasha grab her phone. “I assume you’re all in.”

“I don’t want to know what happened to him. Barnes, whatever you do to him, his body cannot be found in my town. Get rid of him. Throw him into the Grand Canyon. I don’t care. Just don’t do it in my town.”

“Fine.”

“I can’t guarantee that he’s there,” she says while scribbling down two addresses and two phone numbers. “The first number is his normal phone. The other one is a burner phone he used to call me a few weeks ago. Maybe your little geek can trace one of his phones.”

“That’s a start,” Bucky grabs the piece of paper. “I was never here.” He warns, still not convinced that Natasha is on their side. “Remember, you didn’t hear of Rumlow for weeks and know nothing about his activities.”

“You should’ve been a man and come here yourself, not send a girl. If you want something to be done right, do it yourself.”

He can hear Rumlow suck in a breath at the end of the line. If only he stays on the phone for a little longer, Jensen can trace his phone and find out where the bastard is hiding.

Bucky squares his jaw and takes a deep breath. He hates being like this, but this can’t be helped.

“You know, she died too fast for my taste. I would’ve liked hurting her for a little longer. She tried to kill my wife and babies after all.”

“You damn bastard,” Rumlow growls into the phone. “First my girl, and then her sister? How can you look in the mirror, you monster.”

“What do you want to do about it?” Bucky laughs into the phone. “How about you man up and we meet to settle things between us…”

He dips his head to look at Jensen, his brows furrowed.

Jake nods silently pointing at the computer to tell Bucky he found Rumlow’s position…

Tags in reblog.

#Indecent Proposal (21)#bucky barnes #steve rogers #stucky #stucky x reader #female reader #mafia au #mobster!stucky #stucky x you

73 notes · View notes

blairespandora · 2 days

Note

hiiii can i request smth whumpy??? daryl saying “don’t you touch her” not being able to do anything abt reader being held at knife point. maybe she gets a stab or cut on her side.

A/N: Hii angel <33 tysm for your request!! lmk how you like this! 💕

Daryl and Y/n were walking towards Alexandria when suddenly a group of 4 men ambush them, holding Daryl down and grabbing Y/N at knife point;

He was instantly filled with anger and panic with how fast this had gone downhill. His body strained against the people who held him down and he struggled against them trying to reach you.

“Get yer’ damn hands off ‘er! Touch ‘er and I will rip ya’ to pieces, dumbass!”

One of the men that managed to hold you hostage put a knife right under your chin and glared over at Daryl with a sinister smile upon his face.

“Now now…you don’t get to give orders here. If you want this pretty thing to stay alive, you’ll get on your knees… and be a compliant little bitch”.

Daryl stared at the man with murderous rage in his eyes, his breathing became heavy, but he slowly dropped down to his knees. You could see that the man was very satisfied with his current power over the situation, and he was enjoying it.

You were trying to silently communicate with Daryl but the pressure of the cold blade against your chin was making it hard to focus and stay calm.

One of the men who was holding him down leaned down with a mocking tone in his voice and whispered to Daryl,

“Your little lady is a pretty one. Think we should keep her with us.”

Daryl’s face darkened greatly when he said that and let out a snarl. He was starting to get fed up with how smug these guys were. “Fuck YOU” he said through gritted teeth, keeping eye contact with you at all times.

The man holding the knife against your chin chuckled as he slowly began to slide it up your face and press the tip against your cheek. A soft red mark started to form as the tip broke the skin and you let out a small gasp

“If you keep talking like that, I might just have to carve her face up a bit…hmm?”

Daryl clenched his hands tightly into fists and bit his cheek to hold himself back from lashing out against the man. His teeth grinded against each other while he just glared up at the men holding him down,

“If you lay a hand on her I will kill you I swear…”

The men all laughed at that threat and the one holding the knife against you leaned down closer to your ear and spoke in a sinister tone

“I’m gonna like keeping you with me…”

His hand slowly wrapped around your neck and softly squeezed.

Daryl’s rage began to reach its boiling point at the sight of his hand around your neck. He began to struggle against the men and was slowly gaining momentum. His strength overpowered the men holding him down and his hands reached up and grabbed one of their throats.

In the struggle the man who had the knife against your neck ended up dropping it and letting go of you to help the men holding Daryl down. They all managed to finally overpower Daryl again and forced his head down into the dirt. The man holding the knife got back up and glared down at Daryl, his anger showing,

“That was a big mistake redneck…”

The click of the safety going off on the gun could be barely heard as you were quickly able to grab a gun from the guys holding Daryl down and with no hesitation, shot all 4 of them in the head before they could even realise what was going on.

When you stood up and fired the gun Daryl just stared at you in shock as the men’s bodies dropped dead to the ground. His breathing slowed down and he could finally breathe normally again. Before you could completely process what you just did, he leaped up and wrapped you in a tight embrace, his face leaning against the top of your head.

you let out a loud cry, the adrenaline seemed to wear off slightly and realised what you've done "Daryl..." you continued to cry into his shoulder,

He held you tightly against him in a protective embrace, letting you cry on him. He whispered soft reassuring words into your ear as his hand ran softly through your hair.

“T’s okay, you’re okay…they’re all gone now…just you and me…”

When your crying began to die down Daryl gently pulled you back just enough so that he could see your face. His hands gently cupped your face and wiped away the tears from your cheeks, trying his best to soothe you.

“Shh…it’s alright darlin’…just breathe…”

You could feel his hands tense up a bit when he finally noticed the deep gash across your cheek, and you flinched slightly when he gently brushed his thumb against it. The anger was beginning to bubble up again in his chest as he gently wiped away the blood dripping down.

He took a deep breath trying to will himself to stay calm. He gently pushed your hair behind your ears and began gently kissing along the cut to soothe it while whispering quietly to you

“It’s gonna be alright…we’re gonna go back to alexandria and clean this wound up…”

#fanfic #daryl dixon #imagine #the walking dead daryl #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon imagine #daryl x y/n #daryl x female reader #daryl x reader #requests open

65 notes · View notes

creatingblackcharacters · 3 days

Note

This might seem like a weird thing to get hung up on, but in reference to your post about Wyll's hairstyling, someone made the comment that they imagined Mizora used magic to braid his hair as part of their pact. You replied that this was a racist idea and offered to explain why, but they never commented back. If you're still willing to discuss it, I actually would like the explanation. I'm not disagreeing that it's racist, I just think I'm missing some of the nuances/reasoning.

The only explanation I can think of is the way that Wyll's relationship with Mizora is treated, both in and out of game, just makes the joke really not funny. I hate that Mizora is treated as a quirky, love-to-loathe-her side villain when she's essentially Wyll's abuser. She should be treated with the same gravitas that the writers treat Astarion's relationship to Cazador, or Karlach's relationship to Zariel. Then you've got the fans, who can write loads of rants and analysis of Mystra "grooming" Gale on what I would consider very little basis (adults can have teachers too), but stay pretty mum about Mizora, who started manipulating Wyll when he was 17, isolated him from any support systems he might have had, and literally tortures him with the torments of Hell for disobeying her. I forget which conversation it is, but Wyll even describes her visits to him after he completes a task for her as her "saying all the right words" and "touching him in just the right ways."

Maybe I just haven't seen people talking about it because I'm not looking in the right places, I tend to keep most fandoms at arm's length so I'm not swallowed whole by their nonsense. I'm sorry if this turned into an extra long vent message, but I hope it shows I care about Wyll as a character and the work you're doing in general to improve the portrayal of black characters in fiction and fandom.

I mean, you pretty much said it all. I mentioned in my hair lessons that hair is very important to Black people, and that it's also a matter of consent. You wouldn't want just anybody touching your body, and that includes your hair, yes? So it would be incredibly violating for some white person that is essentially your abuser touching your hair, your body, something that is important to you! How can there be real consent if someone OWNS you? Hair is something that requires trust and intimacy. Especially with the idea that a white person would know better how to do your Black hair?! No thanks.

It's also something that ties into my most recent lesson with stereotypes, plus issues with how men are perceived with abusers. The idea that a boy should be "grateful" that a woman is attracted to/attached to them, even when it's inappropriate. For me, what I see when I see Mizora is a white coded woman allowed to mistreat a young Black boy into his adulthood, and treated as though he brought it on himself, as if he deserves to be mistreated by someone who took advantage of him. I see that people won't take that violation seriously, bc no one cares about the dignity of Black bodies nor do we offer them grace under fire.

Whereas if this were a young white girl, and an older Black coded male demon had done these things to her, all hell would break loose. Fans would immediately understand that that sort of relationship is not appropriate and we should not just assume that "oh well it's just sexy".

I mentioned in the last lesson that this sort of "attraction" has gotten Black boys and men killed at the whims of white women. It's not "funny" to me to think that some white coded woman is allowed to treat Wyll that way and everyone is just... Cool with it. I'd be very nervous to ask your opinions on real Black people.

It's honestly why I felt uncomfortable getting interested in the fandom to begin with, in addition to everything else involved with Wyll and his VA Theo. BG3 doesn't seem like a welcoming place fr, and I too have to keep fandom at an arms length for racism reasons, but as I've done with fandom before this: that's my chance to maybe create something that's missing. 👍🏾

#creatingblackcharacters

72 notes · View notes

nonbinarylocalcryptid · 1 day

Text

This is how I think Astyanax would know react to being told what happened at Troy.

Context: Odysseus and Astyanax are trapped in Calypso's island. Unfortunetely, Zeus is bored, so he sends a message (maybe a letter? Maybe he just sends Hermes and call it a day?) to fuck things up a bit and mess with Odysseus. It works wonders. Nine years old Astyanax reacts poorly.

Here's what happens when Odysseus finds him after receiving the message.

The sun was about to set, filling the silence with the sound of the waves hitting the beach. Only Odysseus had the audacity to talk.

"My son..."

That wasn't welcome, not anymore.

"Am I?" Asked the boy. He was trembling, but not from the breeze. "Your son?"

For once, Calypso didn't try to insert herself in the conversation, even the chatty goddess was speechless.

"I always wondered, why we don't look alike at all? I was adopted, I knew, but I thought I was your nephew, even a cousin".

"Son..."

Odysseus was interrupted

"How can you call me that? My family, my whole country... it's gone, and it's your fault".

The man took a short breath.

"I'm not going to ask for forgiveness..."

"Good", Astyanax was done, "because there's no forgiving you. Tell me everything that happened, tell me about what went down that night".

He stared at the older man while he shook his head.

"Astyanax, save yourself that pain, the endless pain of the war shouldn't be a child's warden".

"But it is!" Bursted out the kid. "You decided to spare me on a whim!"

"That's not what happened."

"Then what?" A desperate question. "Am I a warprize?"

"Don't call yourself that." It was soft spoken, like a prayer.

Astyanax was no god.

"What am I supposed to think?"

Trying to descalate the situation, Calypso spoke.

"Maybe what your father is trying to say..."

Any other day, the goddess' inside was welcome, as she was Astyanax's friend. Today he was having none of it.

"SHUT UP NOBODY ASKED YOU-"

"HEY", Odysseus stopped him, "don't yell at her. You want to know what happened? Put your emotions aside, and sit with me by the fire".

They did so, and Odysseus told him. About the Trojan war, about ten years of slow killing, about the ressiliance of Troy. He told him about Achilles and Patroclus, about Paris and Helen.

He told the story of the wooden horse.

About longing to go home.

Diomedes led the charge. Agamemnon flanked the guards. Menelaus let the men through the gates. They took the whole city at large. Teucer will shot every ambush attack. And Little Ajax stayed back. Nestor secured Helen and protected her. Neo, avenged his father, killing the brothers of Hector.

About a mission, to kill someone's son, someone who wouldn't run, someone who could only be dealt with right there and then. About a baby in a cradle. About Zeus' prophecy. About him.

About someone who was just a man.

Troy fell.

The Ithacan fleet sailed, hoping to reach home.

They never did.

When he was done remembering the past, he looked at the boy, who was sitting at the other side of the flame, hands covering his face.

It took a long time for Astyanax to even look at him, let alone spoke up, but he finally did it.

"I don't know what to say." He confessed, bathed in the fire's light. "I hate you, I do, I'm so full of rage right now...but I love you, and I hate you so much. You should have killed me when you had the chance, why didn't you?"

The answer came easyly to Odysseus's lips.

"Mercy". He dared to say, the blasphemy of it haunting them, with only the fire and the waves as witnesses. "You haven't done anything, you were a child who had only known love. What was the point?"

"Zeus told you to do it. One should not defy the gods".

A dark laugh came from Odysseus, startling the kid

"That's all we have ever done since we met." Odysseus spoke the truth, and Astyanax hated him for it. "A god ordered a child's death. Where's my free will? Your right to a peaceful life? They're supposed to protect us...and look where we are now because of them."

Astyanax looked at him, right in the eyes, before saying his part.

"I hate you."

Odysseus sighed, tired, defeated.

"I know." Resigned.

"I have one more question."

Just one question? Odysseus would have give him anything he asked for. A question he could do.

"Go ahead."

Like a dreadful night, so many years ago, he thought he was ready. He wasn't ready.

"Do you even love me?"

Tears came to his eyes when the boy asked that question. How many times can a heart break until there's nothing left?

"How couldn't I? To love my children it's the easiest thing I've ever done."

Whatever was the veredict, he would take it, he owed Astyanax that much.

And then Astyanax got up. There was no emotions in his voice when he talked

"You are without doubt, a cruel man, Odysseus of Ithaca."

He walked away, letting a crying man behind.

#oh crap i made myself sad #don't worry they fix things #while fighting Charybdis #daddy odysseus au #astyanax lives #Odysseus #astyanax #calypso #the horse and the infant #just a man #the odyssey #epic the musical

43 notes · View notes

brandyllyn · 2 days

Text

Silk from their soul (07)

The Ghoul / Cooper Howard x f!reader [no use of y/n]

Rated: Teen (series will be explicit) Words: 1.3k Summary: Negotiation tactics

Series Masterlist My Masterlist

You wait somewhat impatiently while the Cowboy checks the hallway, shifting from foot to foot until he gives you the all-clear. No one else had tried to come by and the bartender doesn’t meet your eyes when you walk past him into the long room that seemed to make the center of the settlement. Ahead of you is a sign with a bottle cap on it - pretty much a universal symbol for traders.

The Cowboy lets you go first, following close behind as you give the woman at the counter your brightest smile. “Good morning!”

She doesn’t look up from the circuitry in her hand and you wait patiently until she is done soldering, elbowing the man next to you when he nearly interrupts. After a few minutes she sets it off to the side and looks at you over the top of a pair of glasses.

“You the strangers, I take it?”

“Guilty,” you beam, stepping forward and holding a hand out. “We were hoping you might be able to trade for provisions.”

“I got rations and some Rad-Away, might even be able to scrounge up some Rad-X.” She turns away, rummaging through a box behind her.

“Any chance you have a water filtration system? All I have is the powders.”

“I got one,” she mumbles, head buried in the box, ”but it’ll cost you dear.”

“Let’s see it all together and talk.”

It takes a minute, the shop seems to be organized by whim as much as anything, and you make a point to keep your smile pasted on the entire time. The Cowboy wanders, poking at a rifle in the window and turning over a small statue of a dog for long enough you begin to worry.

“Here ya go,” she finally says, hefting a crate onto the counter. “How much ya need.”

You eye the meds and survival gear, mentally cataloguing what can be carried. “All of these, half of that, the water pack, and…. What’s that come to?”

She names a price and you hem for a moment, staring at the rations. A deep hacking cough interrupts your thoughts and you frown. “Do you have any chem? That yellow stuff for necr- ghouls?”

“Don’t have much call for it around here,” she shrugs, but her eyes cut to the right, and a box near the back room.

“Well then, I’d think you’d be happy to have a chance to be rid of whatever you might have.”

What she has is barely more than a cigar box, five vials of yellowish liquid. You add it to the meds and re-evaluate the rations. Counting out what you think the two of you can carry you pile the goods high and take a deep breath, letting it out and feeling yourself sink into your body.

“I’m thinking a hundred caps for the lot.”

She snorts. “That’s highway robbery, two fifty.”

“You said yourself, the chem isn’t worth anything to you, I’m doing you a favor to take it off your hands. And this Rad-Away is well past its use by date. I’ll be lucky if it doesn’t kill me.”

Leaning forward, you settle your elbows on the counter and wink at her conspiratorially. “Between you and me, my friend spent half our last haul on a new rifle. Men and their toys, eh?”

A crack appears in her facade, the barest lip twitch.

You have her.

It takes another ten minutes to come to an agreement, a hundred thirty for the lot. You trade the ultracite and a small transistor - happy to get the radioactive rock away from you. You divide the rations between yourself and the Cowboy, keeping the meds and passing him the chem without comment. He seems surprised by the box, gaping at it and then you before tucking it away.

“Pleasure doing business with you,” you wave cheerfully as you leave. When you turn back you run directly into the Cowboy with a soft oof.

“Seems like you owe me some caps.”

The voice is nails on concrete - no one else it can be but Ted. The Cowboy shifts his weight in front of you, freeing his arm to access his pistol.

“Seeing as we were attacked in that room I think maybe we oughta call last night a wash.”

“Attacked?” Ted seems genuinely surprised. “Not a soul in town would dare.”

“Three men,” he counters. “Go check your infirmary.”

Ted frowns. “They said it was an accident at the distillery.”

“Ain’t no bit of rye gone burn a man to the bone,” the Cowboy grunts.

Ted taps his toe, thinking. He’s a good bit taller than either of you with arms like tree trunks. If it came to a fight you didn’t like anyone’s chances.

“It was terrible,” you call from where you’re hidden, pulling on every ounce of your charm. “I was so scared. I really thought I’d be safe here.”

In an instant Ted seems to collapse in on himself, face flushing in embarrassment. “Did they hurt you?”

“No,” you call back, peeking out from around the Cowboy’s shoulder. “But only because my friend kept me safe.”

With a faint twitch developing in one eye Ted cracks his knuckles. “Don’t you worry, I’ll take care of them.

You wait til you’re a mile outside of town before you start laughing, carefully checking you’re not being followed. The Cowboy laughs with you, an airy, raspy noise that makes you laugh all the harder.

“What do you think Ted’s gonna do to them?” you gasp out after a few minutes.

“He’ll beat ‘em within an inch of their life.”

You grimace, but the laughter won’t stop.

“The fuck was that back at the trader?”

Holding the stitch in your side with one hand you give him a quizzical look. “What?”

“The chem, ain’t no one asked you to look out for me.”

He seems so disgruntled it nearly sends you into giggles again. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but it’s what keeps you from going feral, right? I’ve not seen it in that form before but I’m familiar with the concept.” He nods and you shrug. “Then perhaps you should consider I did it for me. I’m certainly happier if you’re not eating my face.”

The look he gives you from under the brim of his hat is so sardonic you can’t help but mimic it, raising an eyebrow and tilting your head for good measure. After a moment he cracks a smile.

“If I put my mouth on you it ain’t gonna be for eating - at least not your face.”

Your jaw drops and you shudder a deep intake of breath. You knew people found you attractive, they were supposed to. And you knew that your presence could have an effect even if you weren’t trying. But that didn’t generally show as someone flirting with you, it was usually disconcertingly direct.

You kind of liked it. Even if he didn’t really mean it.

Should you reciprocate? Flattery was second nature to you but it felt wrong to do in this situation. Everything you were ever taught felt manipulative - probably because it was. But he was at least partially immune to you, so no matter what else he probably was attracted to you.

Who you were, not what.

Whatever you might have decided, it doesn’t matter. After you stare at him like a caught fish for a full thirty seconds he grunts and turns away, gazing off towards the north. “Any particular mountain calling to you?”

You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding. “Somewhere near Big Bear? I think?”

He frowns, forehead scrunching, and thinks on it. “I think I have a fair idea where that is. You ready?”

Not even a little.

☢ ☢ ☢

For updates follow and turn on notifications for @brandyllyn-writes

#the ghoul #the ghoul x you #the ghoul x reader #fallout series

38 notes · View notes

intermundia · 3 days

Note

hey will um- any thoughts on feyd-rautha and paul’s dynamic? not even necessarily from a shipping pov. i just feel like you’ll have some juicy insights lol

I don’t have anything really new to say that hasn’t been said, but it IS fascinating to me that Paul and Feyd-Rautha were supposed to be married, with thousands of years of Bene Gesserit design to create these two ideal parents for the chosen one, but Paul’s divergent masculinity broke that union and made them into antagonists. They’re foils, like the way you place a gem on metal to make it shine brighter, yet the light that Feyd-Rautha shines on Paul illuminates Paul's dark side, rendering his negative self visible, warning about it and exemplifying it.

In the sense that Paul was raised in a culture of honor, and yet chose exploitation, Feyd-Rautha was raised in a culture of exploitation, and chose honor. He contained that unexpected virtue, not enough to redeem him, but enough to cast light on the honor that Paul discarded. When Paul says “so this is how we’ll survive, by being Harkonnens,” the audience knows with dread what part of Paul’s essential personhood that he will be leaning into, the cruelty and exploitation of others, the wanton violence, the selfish ambition.

Also it’s fascinating that unlike Feyd-Rautha, Paul is NOT sexually vulnerable; he’s simply not available to be manipulated through sex, he does the manipulating. He resists Irulan’s seduction entirely, and doesn’t give any real power to Chani. He indulges in sex because he feels love and desire, and he maintains control in the realm of sexuality over Irulan, whose life path is controlled by the fact that he denies her children. If he had been the wife of Feyd-Rautha, he would’ve been able to gain and keep power in the relationship using sexuality and children as a tool.

Feyd-Rautha, despite being a psychopathic power hungry dominant force in much of his life, still would’ve bent to Paul-as-lover, Paul-as-giver-of-intimate-pain. Feyd-Rautha was born to be a sire for Paul's child, born to serve as stud for a powerful woman to create the one. It’s an inherently complementary role, a dependent one. Once they took his seed, and once they established sexual control over him, he would be theirs to use or discard. He’s a tool and a weapon, where Paul should’ve been the sacred vessel, the ultimate woman and mother.

I also deeply appreciate the design choices that Villneuve made that diverge from the written text in a way to visually communicate important personality and ideological information. They are equal-and-opposite visually as well as narratively. Seeing that final duel, Feyd-Rautha is bleached of all natural color, hairless and clean, his shiny black armor tells the story of an industrial culture, versus Paul in sandy brown, natural cloth with a natural blade, coming from the people who lived on the land, in balance and sync with the land, and against those who steal and exploit the land.

It's an archetypal clash of civilizations, embodied in these two young men fighting to the death. They just look like a matched set, opposites that synthesize a thesis of Atreides and antithesis of Harkonnen into a higher being, that should have been their child. The fact that they fought to the death instead of generating life is a bad sign for the galaxy—not that their child necessarily would have been the one to lead into a better future, but Paul killed billions. Jessica's usurpation of Paul's motherhood of the one disrupted that plan, and Paul's masculinity and sexual independence led to a disaster.

#sorry if this is a ramble lmao #idk man i just have thoughts about them #dune #paul atreides #feyd-rautha harkonnen

46 notes · View notes

onceuponaoneshotfanfic · 2 days

Text

We’ll Always Have Chelsea

I'm Bright Baby Blue, Falling Into You

Chelsea!Roy Kent x Coach's Daughter!Reader

1.7k words

Warnings: Language, lying/sneaking around, no Ted Lasso characters except for Roy, extremely protective father, angst, maybe some slut-shaming

A/N: Thank you for all the love you've shown this story! Let's consider this a "mid-season finale" of sorts. I'm currently working on the second half of this story, and once it's complete I'll resume posting it. Feel free to send asks and questions about the Chelsea!Roy universe in the meantime; it seriously keeps me motivated!

(And thank you to @kissykissymouth for the chapter title!)

“Let’s go, Roy-o!” you shrieked from your seat as the announcers called his name in those booming voices that echoed through the stadium.

Katie rolled her eyes playfully as she clapped along with the roaring crowd. “You are the most obvious human being I’ve ever met, you know that?”

“I can afford to be obvious now,” you said with a smile. When Katie quirked a curious eyebrow at you, you leaned in close. “He asked me to make things official last night.” You sounded like a silly little teenage girl, all giddy and delighted over a boy, and you didn’t care one bit. “To be his girlfriend. To stay together even after I’m back at uni. That whole thing.”

Her smile was soft and genuine. “Oh, that’s so great!” she gushed as she grabbed your hand. “Now we can plan some real double dates. Go out on the town, all four of us.” Her glee faded as she studied you for a moment. “But what about your-”

“We’re telling him after the match.” For the first time since Roy climbed back out your window in the early hours of the morning, you felt confident in the idea of telling your dad. This wasn’t just a summer fling anymore; it was something real, something that would hopefully last.

And your dad was going to have to figure out how to deal with it.

Katie let out a low whistle. “Well, good luck with that,” she hummed, giving your hand a squeeze. “Let me know if you need help planning Kent’s funeral.”

You gave her a friendly shove and turned your attention back to the pitch, not bothering to hide the way you couldn’t keep your eyes off of Roy. In a few hours, your dad would know, and there would be no reason to keep anything a secret from anyone. You’d be able to come to every match and proudly wear Roy's name on your back, the way all the wives and girlfriends did, and wrap your arms around him when he emerged fresh from the showers. He could take you to post-match celebrations and charity events and any of the fabulous places a fella like him would take his girl. And you’d be able to bring him home, have him spend time with your family, properly introduce him to your mates.

As long as your dad didn’t kill Roy first.

After the match- a flawless 4-0 Chelsea victory, much to your relief- you lingered by Katie’s side to wait for the men to come out of the changing room. When was the last time your palms were this sweaty or your heart raced this fast? Every time a player walked out the door, your mouth went dry, wondering when it would be Roy. Somehow, you just knew that his sparkling brown eyes would be enough to calm all your nerves.

Jules emerged with a smirk on his face. After kissing his wife, he quirked an eyebrow at you. “Kent’s pretty jealous.”

“What makes you say that?” you huffed, pretending you weren’t utterly pleased at the mere mention of Roy's name.

Jules tugged on the sleeve of your kit playfully. “Apparently he doesn’t like that you wore my kit instead of his today.” He quirked his eyebrow. “Mumbled something about his girlfriend being unsupportive already.” His eyes shifted to a grinning Katie before returning to you. “Want to explain to me why the hell Kent’s calling you his girlfriend, princess?”

“Because she fucking is.” Roy smirked down at you, his fingertips twitching as he shot you a wink. “And at our next match, there better be a six on your back, gorgeous.”

You beamed up at him. “You were great today, Kent.” Fuck, you wished you could grab him and kiss that smirk. Next time, you promised yourself as the two of you batted your eyes at each other, probably making the married couple roll their own eyes. Next time you’d be wearing his kit, and you’d be able to greet him with a girlish squeal and a kiss. You’d get to finally be Roy Kent’s girl.

All you had to do was break the news to your dad.

“Your dad’s already in his press conference,” Roy murmured with raised eyebrows. “Should we… go wait in his office?”

There was that dryness in your throat again. “Yeah,” you managed, blinking rapidly. “Guess we should.” You offered Katie and Jules a tight smile. “We’ll see you guys later.”

“Good luck,” Katie called in a sing-song voice as you and Roy turned to walk down to the coaching offices.

Sure enough, your dad’s office was empty and dark. You flipped on the light and turned on his television, greeted by his face as he sat in front of the crowd of reporters. His normally stern expression was relaxed as he answered questions about the match, clearly glowing from such a great win. If there was ever a day to tell him that you were dating his completely off-limits star midfielder, it was today.

Roy leaned against the edge of your dad’s desk, next to the framed photo of you and your brother that sat by your dad’s computer. Roy took your hand and tugged you to stand close to him, pressing the tiniest kiss to your temple as his thumb stroked the back of your hand.

“It’s gonna be fine,” he whispered.

You gulped and nodded, keeping your eyes trained on your dad’s face. “I know.”

“-performed very well today,” your dad was saying as he picked up the water bottle that sat beside a microphone. “For goodness’ sake, the man scored two goals today. Don’t know what all this is about a slump. I hope all the fellas fall into this kind of a slump.” He chuckled good-naturedly and pointed off-camera. “Next question.”

“Moving on from today’s match,” a cautious voice called out. “Coach, what d’you have to say about those photos of Roy Kent and…” The reporter cleared his throat. “… your daughter?”

For a moment, your father’s face was bright red as he set down the unopened water bottle. “I’m sorry?”

Your blood ran cold while the reporter continued. “There are photos of them at a casino. They were with, uh, Jules and his wife.” He cleared his throat again. “They were quite cozy.”

“Fuck.” Roy squeezed your hand and tore his eyes away from the television. “I-”

“I don’t comment on my players’ private lives.” Your dad’s jaw was tight as he sat up at his full height. “Especially Roy Kent.” His laugh rang hollow in your ears. “If I commented on every rumor about that kid’s love life, I’d never have time to manage this team.” He moved to stand, not quite looking at the camera. “Now, if there’s no more football-related questions, I think we’re done here.”

Roy let out a low growl and switched the telly off. “Well, fuck.”

“You should leave,” you murmured, looking into Roy’s panicked eyes. “Seriously, Roy. This is so much worse than we thought. It might be better if you go.”

He shook his head. “Fuck no.” He let go of your hand in favor of wrapping his arm around your waist. “We said we’re doing this together,” he said slowly. “So, we’re doing this together. I’m not going to be the kind of prick who runs away when things get hard.” He sighed and closed his eyes. “And this is going to be so fucking hard.”

The two of you flinched when you heard doors slam and feet stomping. Instinctively, Roy removed his hand from your hip, but he stayed close enough for you to feel his warmth. A smart move, you had to admit. A smarter move would be for him to run away from Stamford Bridge altogether, to never speak to you again, but you were glad he stayed. Something besides fear swelled in your heart when you realized that Roy was sticking by your side, even in the face of your father.

Your father, whose raised voice you could hear down the hall. “Where the hell is my kid? And where the fuck is Kent?”

Your entire body trembled as his footsteps came closer, finally stopping in front of the open door of his office. His eyes widened when he took in the sight of you, standing far too close to Roy Kent in the office that held framed photos of your childhood and crayon drawings from over a decade ago. He stormed in, ignoring you in favor of grabbing Roy by his t-shirt.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Kent?” he barked. “All the fucking models and actresses in London, and you decide to shag my daughter?”

Roy shook his head frantically, hands up in defense. “Coach, it’s not like that-”

“Get the fuck out, Kent.” He released Roy and pointed to the door. “Before I take a real good look at your contract.”

You found your voice. “Daddy,” you said shakily. “Roy’s not going anywhere.” You reached down and intertwined your fingers with Roy's, ignoring the player's wide eyes. “We’re dating, Dad. Me and Roy.” You gave Roy’s hand a squeeze. “We-”

“One rule.” Your dad’s voice was low, filled with anger. “I had one rule for you hanging around here. No. Footballers.” He pointed at Roy. “Especially that one.” He shook his head at you. “What were you thinking?"

“I’m thinking I care about Roy and he cares about me.” You gripped Roy’s hand like it was a lifesaver. “And I’m thinking I’m an adult. You can’t tell me who I can and can’t date. I’m not sixteen anymore.”

Your dad’s eyes were full of rage and pain as he stared at you, looking at you like you were a complete stranger. “You’re sure acting sixteen, sneaking around behind my back.” He shook his head, eyeing Roy with disgust. “But you’re right. You’re apparently all grown up now. Do what the fuck you want.” He grabbed his bag from behind his desk and made his way to the door. “Besides, you’ll be back at school soon enough.” His gaze was steely, lacking any of the usual affection he sent your way. “And Kent’ll be back to his normal self. Once you're gone, he'll be right back to his models. Maybe then you’ll realize I was right about him all along.”

Taglist:@gee72sstuff@book-of-roses@kissykissymouth@emmy2811 @hart-kinsella @klaine-92@dearvoidgoodnight@misshall14@issieruby@royal-sunflower@kissmekent@itswhateveripromise@slaymybreathaway@darkmagazineblaze@larascorneroftheworld@infinetlyforgotten@caught-the-feels@rae4725@sisinever@cskidjgsjaoaknayan52782@dd122004dd@veryprairieberry@spacecluster@dark-academia-slut@her-fandom-sanctum@wosokirby @mmmgl29 @aadu2173

#roy kent bright baby blue #Chelsea!Roy #he's here he's there he's every fucking where #roy kent #roy kent x reader #roy kent fanfic #roy kent fic #roy kent fanfiction #roy kent imagine #ted lasso #ted lasso fic #ted lasso fanfic #ted lasso fanfiction

47 notes · View notes

grusinskayas · 2 days

Text

Greta Garbo and Ernst Lubitsch on the set of Ninotchka.

For all her aura of untouchability at the studio, if the proper etiquette was observed, Garbo was entirely approachable and not at all given to displays of temperament. She was in fact down-to-earth on the job, friendly to extras, at ease with the men in their shirtsleeves. She never berated anyone, and no one has ever reported an angry outburst. When an assistant in Clarence Bull's studio knocked over a spotlight, smacking her on the shoulder, Garbo laughed it off and the next day greeted him with a lighthearted, "Been trying to kill anyone lately?" When, on another occasion, a heavy piece of scenery came crashing down near her, she looked up at the mortified prop boy and purred, "I make you nervous, maybe?" Clarence Brown recalled her sweet way with a young Irishman on a crew, "an electrician, and his face looked like the map of Ireland. Garbo used to kid him all the time. She'd say to him, 'Are you Scandinavian?'" She adored William Daniels' gaffer, Bill Porter, who stood next to her in close-ups, lighting her eyes. At the end of those intense scenes, Garbo would gently touch Porter as she walked back to her dressing room. "She was peculiar but marvelous," said Porter, "[and] very friendly. She always felt at home with me." [...] Back at the studio at last [after her seven-month strike in 1927], she found a bouquet of flowers in her dressing room, a welcome-home gift from the wardrobe department. The gesture, she said, "made me feel a little closer".

Walking with Garbo: Conversations and Recollections by Raymond Daum

#ninotchka #greta garbo #ernst lubitsch #1939 #1930s #*#~*#greta*#the white shirt with the little tie ❤️❤️

33 notes · View notes

frostytherobot · 3 days

Text

Alright. Because I’m thinking about Creep as a film series because they just announced more Creep in the form of THE CREEP TAPES (I’VE BEEN WAITING FOR SO LONG… it’s not a movie but a TV SHOW!!!) I’m just gonna ramble a little bit about why those movies are so important to me.

First, though:

^ That’s my Creep tattoo. I got it over a year ago and show it off whenever I can.

So, onward.

I watched the first Creep movie for the first time during quarantine lockdown. It was like March of 2021? (Hold on, let me link the episode of my podcast for that.) (Yup. Don’t mind my pre-T voice.) That was like one of the loneliest times of my life. You know how it was, you were there, too. Fucking. Awful. I felt like there was just this bubble of sadness around me and nobody could get through to me. Sure, I had friends I could talk to over the internet, but that can only get you so far. Especially when they have their own lives and you can’t see them face to face.

One night, my two best college buddies and I decided we should watch it for our podcast. That was the one thing we could do that we could talk to each other consistently with, so we went for it. And, fuck. You can hear in that episode how freaked out that movie made us! We talk about human behaviors and the compulsion to kill and where that stems from, the relationship between politeness and gender roles, and lot of other related topics in that episode. It’s a smart film that knows how to suck you into the reality; you see these two men up close and personal, their odd behaviors, and the found footage formatting and intimate setting make you feel as though you are there witnessing all of this with them. As them. Those awkward moments make you cringe; watching Josef admit to stalking Aaron, catching Josef on the lies, tubby time. Oh, god, tubby time.

And then there was the ending. The moment where the camera is left in the car, you’re left in the car, and you just have to watch as Josef puts on the Peachfuzz wolf mask, flourishes his jacket, and buries that axe into Aaron’s head. The shot is static. It’s matter-of-fact, and that’s why it’s so horrifying. He’s dead. You followed this shy, awkward guy on his journey getting to know an oddball all the way to the lake, and he’s dead now. And then, the murderous oddball looks directly into the camera, and while he says Aaron’s name, he’s looking at you as he says, “That is why I love you. And that is why you will always be my favorite. Of them all.” Like he was thanking you for witnessing this event.

I felt like there was someone behind me for hours afterward. Josef had somehow gotten into my home. And that’s how it started.

Months later, we watched the second one. (Episode link here.) Of course we loved it. I loved it. It wasn’t as scary as the first one, but the intimacy and emotional connection was still there. That feeling of watching two people through their own eyes was still there. Only this time, they were trying to out-weird each other, or at least come together on a level they could both understand. The thing is, they were still misunderstanding each other. Sara is only comfortable with Josef’s Aaron’s freakiness because she thought he was lying to her when he wasn’t. The moment she starts to take it seriously is when she decides to leave, and that’s when Josef Aaron pulls out the lies and the deceit to bring her back in. And when she comes back in, that’s when she starts being genuine, letting her guard down, and that’s when she gets into trouble. She starts to believe in the watered-down version of Josef Aaron, seeing the front of softness as a vulnerability in him, and to a point, it is. But she totally disregards everything else that has happened during this day as some kind of ruse, when she should have kept those moments in mind. He’s still a killer, and dangerous, even if he plays it like he isn’t.

Sara ultimately pays the price for entertaining his whims. I guess Aaron did, too, but in a different way. While Aaron died and became a part of Josef, Sara now cannot get rid of him. He tries to kill her, and she runs, refusing his gift of death and absorption into himself, but now he follows her. She’s literally moved on, but like a ghost or a bad dog with attachment issues, he still follows her. He gave her his heart, after all.

And then I got to putting two and two together on why exactly all of this was appallingly appealing to me. I was alone. I was drifting further into this state of paradoxical nothing-pain. And suddenly, I was being welcomed into a dynamic in which I was wanted. It was an obsessive want, but I was wanted. He got me. They all did. Josef, Aaron, Sara. Suddenly I’m seeing aspects of my loneliness on screen. The slow reveal of the odd personality traits, the waiting to see the reaction. Pulling those traits back in when they’re not met with the tolerance I wish was there. The staying when I feel so uncomfortable because I want to understand. Upping the ante in an act of bonding. Feeling like I’ve found someone who’s on my wavelength, only to find they weren’t as okay with the whole me as I thought. The sudden urge to end it all. To kill the relationships. Move on, knowing they were dead, but I could still have the memories. They were getting distant. I could do it, you know. Just end it all right then.

Of course, I didn’t do that. But I felt it. I felt it a lot during that time.

I’ve not been super mentally healthy over my time being alive. I’ve been hospitalized for it. Not a fun experience, by the way. But that was another aspect that just drew me closer to Peachfuzz. He’s funny, and weird, and unstable. Always lying to appeal to the people around him because he wants them to stay, for sincere and sinister reasons. He’s terrible and lonely. I was terrible and lonely.

And there it was. Crystal clear. Los aguas milagros de corazón. I was taking comfort in a manifestation of something dark that I saw in myself. A mischievous, funny, isolated, totally fucked-in-the-head, murderous darkness. I wasn’t alone in that room anymore, and yeah, perhaps my company should’ve been something not so, well, creepy, but I thanked him for being there. I could put a face with the feeling, and the nothing-pain started going away.

He’s a friend of mine now. And I love him a lot.

#martyface #josef tag #creep 2014 #creep movie #creep 2

34 notes · View notes

duskmachine · 2 days

Text

!! CHAINSAW MAN CHAPTER 167 SPOILERS !!

the newest chapter of chainsaw man and the reaction to it is actually making me feel like i've been blasted into a wall and broke every bone in my body. chapter 167 is the cumulation of everything denji theoretically wanted. he lost everything: his family, his home, his normal life. yet, he wished to become chainsaw man and wanted to "have tons and tons of sex!!"

it's happening all over again: denji was given a family, a home, good food, a normal life. but he, in his mind, killed aki. the guilt is eating at him; "there's no way i could ever have a family. i mean, i killed my own dad." nayuta even says, "i'll fill him up with happiness... then destroy it." and denji, failed to protect his only family, nayuta, ultimately "killing" her. (at the time of this post we don't know of her status)

so what does that have to do with chapter 167? the abuse has become part of denji's heart. he has no solid understanding of familial love, just that he seems to have an instinctual want for it. the same type of instinctual want that is his sex drive. he's moving purely with his heart which is driven by desires— desires that are fulfilled by a devil.

in chapter 167 both asa and denji have been assaulted. asa was not in control and denji did not utter a single word throughout the entire interaction. both are confused teenagers who function under selfish and conflicting wants. asa, who wishes to save denji because really she wants to be revered as a hero and seem like a better person. denji, who even in the face of great loss, wants to have "tons and tons of sex" because it's the only coping mechanism normalized for men.

these are desires of the heart and these devils exist to manipulate these desires into truths that exist in the most twisted way possible. chapter 167 is horrifying, not because "fujimoto how could you draw two teenagers in a sexual situation!!", but rather because these two teenagers will be irreversibly changed from their traumatic experiences because of the world of adults. they have been forced into using tools adults weaponize against each other: literal weapons, but also concepts of "justice", "love", and "sex". denji and asa are constantly being told what to do, and even worse, forced to do the biddings of adults and devils alike.

the chainsaw man church who claims all americans are "ultra violent" is immediately met with doubt from denji because he has been exposed to real americans who have all been relatively normal (at least, according to denji's definition of "normal"). denji can think for himself, but it requires him to be exposed to healthy and safe environments that allow him to learn... just like any other kid! this applies to asa too! she has never learned how to have healthy friendships, the one friend she has ever made put the adult responsibility of "justice" onto herself and became a monster. and asa had to kill her.

kids become monsters under heavy pressure from adults and the cycle of abuse never ends. i feel deeply sad that the reaction seems so reactionary and trivial. the horror of chainsaw man is the horror every teenager has to live through.

#chainsaw man #csm #csm spoilers #chainsaw man spoilers #csm chapter 167 #chainsaw man chapter 167 #denji #asa mitaka

24 notes · View notes

stuckyslut8 · 2 days

Text

THE WICKED WITCH .

pairing : orc!ari levinson x witch reader. King steve rogers x witch reader .(medieval au)

Summary :years after being betrayed by your lover steve, you seek the forest orc's help to give you an heir.

Warning: 18+ .angst.smut. breeding kink(just ari pounding you with his monstrous cock) .monsterfucking.period typical sexism. Fluff.

There are not a lot of people in this town that cared for you, most detested you for your fate. you didn't mind them, what else was left for you to do anyway, apart from your apothecary business.

Still there are some who have grown fond of you, like the old lady who owns the jewelry store,sally ,and pete the baker, the town's drunk but wise man seth, with whom you've found comfort in many lonely nights , he was a gentle, tender lover ,he was one of a kind truly.

But you needed more than that, more than desperate affairs with the townfolks,more than broken promises from a man who you wish to not speak of and he rather not of you.

"It's only for your safety dove" ,he insisted, "they would kill you if they found out, but i will sort it out, i will marry you one day and make you mine in front of the whole kingdom i promise." But the day never came.

"All men are the same y/n, a prince is no different, or a king as they call him now." Sally said as she heard your misery,which was not a huge secret anyway ,there were always rumours about prince steven rogers getting involved with the evil witch, just to sow his wild oats some say , others say she enchanted him, but only you both know the truth and neither of you were going to speak of it now.

Steven was fine, he was betrothed to princess Margaret of the neighbouring kingdom as soon as his mother found out about the affair, and just like that he was gone , away to the kingdom of carter ,and when he returned he was no longer the steve you knew, he was a married man , then soon his father died and he became the new king. Not that any of that mattered now.

Now you were all alone ,a spinster, a wicked one ,as they say. So in this world full of hatred you wanted something to love, something to call your own ,which is why you had embarked om this journey now.

A rather dangerous one , "be careful y/n orcs are wild creatures, dangerous beasts ."

You thanked sally for her concern and led on with your journey.

Just as you entered the unexplored territory of the mystical forest, you saw it, a giant cottage protected by magical shields, of course you were able to break through it easily, you hoped you don't upset the orc so easily. But oh boy you were wrong, as you moved forward you were yanked back by a large arm to your neck and pinned against a tree. You came face to face with probably the most gorgeous mythical creature ever created, with his long locks, hairy chest, chiseled abs and thick arms, he was only covered by a cloth wrapped around his lower body .

"What are you doing here little witch?" His grip on your neck tightened ,you immediately used your powers to get him off of you. He stepped back picking up the knife that was hidden under his cloth.

"Stop, I'm not here to hurt you." You tried to calm him.

"Then what are you doing here, how did you break my barrier." He questioned you angrily.

"Oh please I'm the wicked witch of the west, this is beneath me." Your words only seem to agitate him more. So you switched your tone. "Anyway I'm only here to ask for your help. " i even brought you offerings" you laid out your bag which was full of things orcs liked.

he looked at it,expression remaining the same, "help? What help could a witch possibly want from an orc?" He realized what you wanted as he completed the sentence, it could only be one thing.

"I uh want you to-"

"You want me to breed you." He said in his deep voice which made slick pool in your core.

"Well if you put it plainly then yes." You said, currently ogling his form more than ever.

"Or Would you like to call it love making,like the humans do?." You noticed the shift in his tone now.

You stepped forward,making the first move boldly as you captured his lips in a fiery kiss, you moaned into it as his thick orc tongue explored your mouth.

"You can call it whatever you want as long as you fuck me with your big orc cock." You said out of breath from the kiss. This made him laugh out loud. "You do have a dirty mouth on you little witch, i like it." He said as he cupped your breast through your thin barely there linen dress you wore on purpose.

"I will breed you." He said at once. ",but under one condition. " you were no longer paying attention to his words as his fingers explored your body. "You will have to live with me "

"What? Here?" You asked looking around.

"Yes, where else?"

"What about my home?"

"Where do you live?"

"In the town nearby, brookenhaim." Ari huffed in response, "with humans? ,i thought they didn't like your kind." He said.

"They uh..we get along fine, i own an apothecary so uh yes......i live there, i can't just leave it all behind and come here and live with you in the middle of nowhere."

"Where's your coven? Or any family?" You went silent for a moment not knowing what to say ,you didn't come here to be questioned like this ,you came here to fuck.

"Where's yours?" You were met with the same silence.

"Look we dont have to do it this way mister.."

"Ari..ari levinson." You gave him your name in return.

"Right..ari " you poked a finger to his chest, as he looked at you mockingly, for your desperate attempts to intimidate him. "We're not getting married for fucks sake,so don't think much about my predicament, i just want a quick fuck ,get knocked up and leave." He smirked again at your words."what?"

"I didn't know witches were so uncivilized, and for one living with humans, you sound far from it."

"Uncivilized? You're a fucking orc ,living in the middle of nowhere, don't talk to me about being civil." You were furious now, ari could sense it,so he tried to soothe you.

"Alright, alright, i didn't mean to judge little witch, you can do whatever you want, but listen a mating period is very important for orcs, so atleast until you get pregnant i want you to be with me and that would also be convenient for breeding you i hope."

You thought about it for a moment, "alright, i dont think it'll take too long for me to get pregnant anyway, that is if you do a good enough job." You were back in your seductive mood now.

"Oh you worry about yourself little witch." He said giving you his signature smile and placing a kiss to he back of your palm.

You went back to town immediately, closed your apothecary ,took your precious belongings which was not much by the way, and your necessities for your stay with the orc and returned to his cottage. You looked forwards to saying goodbye to sally and pete , but were disappointed when you learnt that they were at the town festival dancing the night away, one which you were not a part of anyway, and would mostly be greeted by frowns, so you never bothered going again.

So here you were, alone in ari's cottage, you'd offered to make dinner with your homemade pasta you brought from town, while ari was out chopping woods for the night.

Ari came back after a while,looking all sweaty and worked up , you almost dropped the pot looking at him.

He ate the dinner you made, "hmm that's really good sweetheart, haven't eaten like this in a long time." You didn't know what he means by a long time, but didn't wanna pester him with more personal questions. So you questioned him about what you came for,

"So when are you gonna fuck me orc?" You asked teasingly.

"Eager aren't we pretty girl?" You almsot blushed at the nicknames he's been giving you, you. "Go wait for me on the bed...naked."

You nodded and proceeded to do as he said , taking of your dress and your undergarments, standing on your hands and knees , presenting yourself for him like an orc mate would.

Ari barged in the door , awestruck as he looked at your form, "hmm didn't know you knew about orc mating postions, little witch." He commented as he neared you, hands gripping your hips, positioning you for his comfort.

"I came prepared orc." You said as he toyed with your clit ,other hand moving to your breasts, lips leaving a trail of wet kisses on your shoulder.

You could do nothing but moan, and try to stop your knees from wobbling. Just then his mouth reached your pussy, his thick tongue licking a long stripe , spreading your wetness everywhere. "Hmm that's the prettiest pussy ever sweetheart. " you whimpered as he pushed his tongue into your hole, "hmm the tightest too, I've only ever fucked orcs, and they could barely take me, i don't know how this tight little witch cunt is gonna take all of me pretty girl."

His words only turned you on more, "but don't worry I'll stretch you out real good and leave you begging for more." He landed a sharp smack to your ass, the pleasure of which went striaght to your core.

Ari kept his promise and stretched you out, first with his finger, and then his massive orc tongue, then added more fingers, until you cried from the pleasure begging him to let you cum, and he did eventually after edginf you on for an hour. You fell onto your stomach as you orgasmed, losing your position that the orc seemed to love so much. So he brougt you back on your hands and knees, supporting you with his arms so you stay in position.

"I was just getting started little witch, now show me how badly you wanna take my seed, show me how good you can take this cock." He pushed the tip into you slowly, letting you adjust to his size, once you got comfortable, he started pounding into you, with such brutal force you gripped the sheets as you writhed in pleasure, you could hear his grunts too and filthy words that slipped his mouth as he fucked into you. 'You're taking me so good lottle witch, that pretty cunt is gripping me so good.' 'Aagh tightest pussy I've ever had, just the way i like it.'

"Fuck ,fuck ari I'm gonna cum." You cried out as you neared your orgasm, "cum for me little witch." And you did for the fitth time that night, you could feel ari getting sloppy, he was nraring his orgasm too, but he picked up his phase again and fucked into you real good, with a lpud grunt he came in you without warning, filling you up to the brim with his warm cum.

You both laid in bed facing the ceiling, caching your breath,ari turned his head towords you ,"so it's true what they say about witches."

"What ?" You raised your eyebrows.

"You have the tightest pussies out of all the creatures in the mystical forest." He daid jokingly.

You slapped his arm, lightly too fucked out of your brains to respond to orc's comment properly. "You like tight pussies?" You aksed after a moment.

"They're the best." You huffed at his response."is that the only thing you look for in a woman?"

"Hmm only you could turn a compliment into a debate little witch....No,There's much more obviously."

"And what if she didn't have a tight cunt, what then."

"It doesn't matter ,when you accept someone as your mate, you don't care about anything else, you only care about cherishing them with all you have."

The next morning you woke up to an empty bed ,you looked around to see ari already in the kitchen making breakfast.

"Good morning little witch. " he stood there in all his glory.

"Good morning ari."

"I can't cook like you but i made something with the berries i gathered, here have a taste." He fed you his berry custard with a spoon, which you licked and hummed at the taste.

"It tastes so sweet ari." You moaned ,"but i think i need something salty to start the morning."

"I'm afraid i dont have anything salty to offer you sweetheart." He said genuinely. "This isn't the town where you can get-"

Just then you sank to your knees and pulled off ari's only clothing covering his body, "hmm i think you have plenty to offer me orc."

Ari's words died down in his throat. You took the tip of his member in your mouth, sucking it sweetly ,all the while looking at ari, you saw his pupils dilate, eye's turning dark filled with lust and pleasure.

He groaned in pleasure, as you licked a lond stripe along his cock the same way you licked the custard off the spoon. You used your hands to play with his balls, adding to his pleasure.

Ari knew he wasn't gonna last, he was thinking about you all morning, wanting to fuck you in your sleep, but he didn't wanna come of as being so desperate, he wanted to maintain his composure, so he opted to cooking instead, but here you were sucking his cock first thing in the morning ,bobbing your head up and down his member ,barley fitting in all of him in your mouth.

He came fast ,hard, spurting his ropes of white cum into your throat, which you swallowed willingly. "Hmm tastes so delicious orc..so it's true what hey say about orc's semen too huh? Tastes so good. Leaves you wanting for more." You said as you took him in your mouth one more time.

"Save some for that pretty cunt of yours little witch -oh just like that keep going." You slowed down your pace giving him kitten licks ,teasing him and having him on edge, likw he did to you last night, just then ari took control, he grabbed you by your hair and started fuckint your mouth roughly, you couldn't help but grind yourself on his leg at the same time.

He moaned your name as ge was about to come in your mouth you were ready to taste him, but he pulled out just in time to come all over your face and chest. "Hmm you look sp pretty like this little witch, painted in my cum."

You pouted, "but i wanted to taste your cum." Ari simply laughed at your pouting.

"Later little witch, let me fuck you now." He gave you his hand to lift you off your feet.

A/N : pls do reblog and let me know if you need more of this series.

26 notes · View notes

vampiric-hunger · 2 days

Text

⊱─ 𝕕𝕒𝕣𝕜𝕟𝕖𝕤𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕤𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕟: 𝕔𝕙. 𝟞 - 𝕖𝕟𝕧𝕪 ─⊰

➺ 𝕡𝕒𝕚𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘:Ascended Astarion/f!reader

➺ 𝕥𝕒𝕘𝕤: no y/n is used, rating - E, jealousy, arguing, asphyxiation, bondage, breast play, dubcon, underwear as a gag, smut, vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, teasing, PiV, praise kink, vampire bites, caught while fucking, creampie.

➺ 𝕤𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕪 𝕤𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: you're skilled, driven and most importantly - ambitious. but even as someone in your position, a trained assassin and a leader of your own Guild, you still lend yourself to jobs that are of importance. even if those jobs sometimes mean attending parties. tonight - it's a masquerade and you're bored out of your mind, until the man who hired you to protect him leaves you alone, at the mercy of a stranger who suddenly took a keen interest in you.

➺ 𝕨𝕠𝕣𝕕 𝕔𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕥: 6,407

𝕒𝕦𝕥𝕙𝕠𝕣 𝕟𝕠𝕥𝕖: and we're getting close to the end! what a ride so far! i loved writing this chapter because writing jealousy and envy is always a lot of fun for me, but i digress! enjoy ♡~

➺ 𝕔𝕙𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕣 𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥: [link]

Upon your return you didn’t have a chance to send Astarion a message of any kind because the day after you came back the Duke himself demanded you accompany him to a celebratory ball. It appears one of his generals performed well in battle while you were away and begrudgingly you agreed. It would not do you well to scorn the ruler of Baldur’s Gate.

But as you are preparing for the ball, finding your finest dress and making sure that it’s clean and ironed, you wonder if you really have no time to send a message or if you simply don’t want to.

The answer comes simple – you don’t want to.

Not because you regret what happened in this very house two weeks ago before you left on a assassination mission to kill Princess, as you code-named her for secrecy, but because the thought of him turning you into one of his spawn haunts you.

He didn’t tell you that he abandoned the idea. No, he said nothing about that at all. And that’s something you cannot ignore.

While you dress and doll yourself up, you keep thinking about it, about the idea of being his like this and you realize that you really don’t want to be his thrall. That you don’t want to be his to command whenever he wishes. It’s already hard to assert yourself without that and how he cast Dominate on you proved exactly that without a shadow of doubt. It hangs heavily over you like a dark cloud, threatening to erupt in rain at any moment.

You know that before you see him next – you need to think, a lot. You need to figure out a way to give yourself what you want without giving Astarion what you are sure he will ultimately seek: your eternity.

When you finish preparing by hiding some smaller daggers on your person, you hear a carriage and a sound of horse hooves coming closer. You suspected that the Duke will send someone to pick you up to ensure that you show up. You find the man extremely predictable if not slightly paranoid. You don’t have an issue with that, you rub elbows with paranoid men every day.

The trip to the city center doesn’t take too long but you use that time to keep pondering upon the conflict in your mind and heart. Yes, you have to really and truly admit to yourself – you like Astarion. And it stretches beyond just carnal desire or the thrill of danger. You don’t even know why, you can’t answer this, what it is that exactly draws you to him like a moth to the flame, you just hope that the flame won’t consume you. And as you watch houses and people pass by the carriage window you feel a knot of dread in your stomach – you’re playing a very dangerous game with a man that holds unforeseen power in his hands.

Is risking your life really worth it? For something that could be just a fleeting fancy for either of you? And yet you realize that it’s too late for this already. While the carriage navigates the streets and begins slowing as it approaches a massive mansion in the middle of the city, you understand with a sinking feeling that you should’ve been honest with yourself and had this ‘conversation’ with your inner self before Astarion showed up at your house. But you didn’t know then that you will agree to… what exactly did you agree to? Another tryst? No, it didn’t feel like this sort of transient proposal from him. Not a relationship either, surely, too early for that, all you two did so far was fuck and shout at each other, a proper pissing contest between two very prideful people. Then what? You have no answer to that and have no time to think about this further as the carriage stops at last and the door opens, revealing the Duke in his best ensemble, offering a hand to you with a smile.

“Good evening.” he greets you before you take his hand and your skirts as you climb out of the carriage.

“Good evening to you too, Duke Sanolin.” you smile, easily slipping into your role of a perfectly pleasant, well-mannered noble woman. You don’t hate the role, but your words feel empty and shallow even when you greet the Duke.

“I take the road here was pleasant? City planners made sure to increase quality of the roads leading out of the city. Merchants have easier and swifter time traveling this way.” Duke starts boasting and you nearly recoil when you notice him offering you his elbow, but you just squeeze out a smile on your face and hook your arm exactly how he wishes.

You don’t reply because he doesn’t need you to speak. You are here to stay close to him as he mingles with patriars. You are here to look pretty while you discretely protect his life. You are here to smile and to nod and to be vigilant. Oh how you loathe these jobs.

However, when Duke Sanolin leads you inside and servants greet you both, offering wine and small snacks on silver platters, you scan the guests and see nobody you should keep an eye out on. There are some dangerous nobles among the masses of them in Baldur’s Gate. Some of them have relations with other Guilds, some are simply unhinged and unpredictable, some have grievances and revenge on their minds, but tonight you see no familiar faces, faces that you have memorized for safety. This makes your shoulders relax. Sure, someone undesirable might come yet, rich people are rarely punctual, but for now you feel more at ease than you expected yourself to be tonight.

And Duke is not some secretive heir like Lord Goldbrith or a boasting sex addict like Lord Witdale. No, Sanolin is a very educated man and a very social one to boot, so the moment you two enter the main ballroom, he quickly becomes surrounded by ladies and lords alike. Everyone wants to be on his good side and you too get acknowledged as someone who is accompanying him tonight, asking where his wife is. When Duke explains that his wife isn’t feeling well thus he decided to bring his ‘niece’ with him, most seem to stop questioning your presence, although you do notice a suspicious glance or two from those who don’t believe Duke’s innocent lie because they don’t know who you truly are, which is not that many of them, you suddenly realize. This party seems to have been assembled from people who rub elbows with the ruler of the city very closely, including yourself, and that makes your job easier – protecting someone of this importance is near effortless when he’s surrounded by his allies instead of enemies.

And then something dawns on you – could Astarion be here? You immediately begin to look around watching for signs of him, but so far you see nothing, yet it still doesn’t alleviate the panic beginning to claw at your chest and throat. You don’t like feeling paranoid but this is exactly the feeling that now overwhelms your mind, making your hands shake slightly as you hold the glass of wine and take small sips from it while keeping your eyes on the crowd as Duke Sanolin is talking to his political allies with you at his side.

You don’t fear Astarion, not really, you’re too proud for that, but what do you fear is a scene that he could cause if seeing you back instead of getting a message from you informing him about your return could lead him to anger. And you already know that Astarion’s anger can get pretty explosive with no regards to anyone around him unless forced to stop and think better.

For an hour or so you feel rising panic trying to replace all other senses in your mind and body, but thankfully Sanolin doesn’t notice anything, chatting away about things that dull your mind: trades, fashions and council meetings. Nothing useful for you to pay attention to. And when you finally feel like you can relax, that Astarion might not show up, you freeze, paralyzed with near animalistic fear when you notice him entering with a loud laugh, teasing the servant and making the young man blush.

Shit.

You turn your back to him and try to blend in with the nobles chatting up the Duke, trying to hide behind his own body and you empty your glass of wine in one gulp to calm your nerves. What is wrong with you? You faced enemies and threats bigger than Astarion’s possible anger for not receiving a simple note from you, but you immediately understand why – because you want to be with him and you feel like you betrayed whatever fragile start you two agreed upon those two weeks ago.

“Good evening, my dear.” you hear Astarion’s all too familiar voice croon behind you and your fingers clench the glass so firmly that you have to remind yourself to relax before it shatters in your hand.

You slowly turn to him, not bothering to plaster on a fake smile, and his crimson eyes immediately locks onto yours. Duke and his allies fall silent at the greeting and turn to Astarion as well, making minstrels that the host hired for tonight seem unreasonably loud even though that’s far from the truth.

“I was so hoping to see you tonight.” Astarion says and you hear traces of poison in his words, you notice the cold edge in his smile and hardness in his eyes.

“You know my niece?” Duke interrupts the stare-down and Astarion turns to the man, shaking his hand.

“Duke Sanolin, delighted to see you tonight. And yes, I do know your niece.” you near flinch at vampire’s emphasis on your fake title and you look at Duke, seeing that he and Astarion are exchanging some silent understanding, most likely about who you really are, the hired assassin.

“She’s a delight, isn’t she.” Duke smiles at you now and you feel his hand on your lower back as if trying to reassure you, it makes you feel like your heart is being squeezed and a flash of sorrow replaces your anxiety with the wish that your own father was ever this comforting. Alas, you quickly discard the self-pitying thought and smile back to him.

“I’m glad to be here tonight, surely.” you speak and sense Astarion’s gaze burn into you, but you pretend that you don’t feel it or see it.

“Duke Sanolin, would you mind if I stole your niece for a moment or two? There’s something I want to ask her about her… mother.” Astarion pauses as he tries to think of a lie on the spot but since Duke is perfectly aware of your line of work, after all that’s exactly why you’re here, he just gives Astarion a curious look and nods, his hand leaving your back.

“Just for a moment.” he says and Astarion laughs, waving his hand dismissively.

“You’re a powerful opponent in a fight, Duke, I’m sure you don’t need a small girl like her protecting you, do you?” Lord Ancunin says with a taunting grin and Sanolin narrows his eyes for a moment, but when his companions burst into lighthearted laughter, he relaxes and laughs along.

“Very true indeed. Go ahead then, steal my niece away, but I want her returned, sooner rather than later, she’s here to observe and to learn.” Duke lies with such conviction that you wonder if he’s becoming delusional, but you understand that maybe this is exactly why he’s a Duke – a good politician knows how to lie without a shadow of doubt in his own words.

Yet you don’t want to go with Astarion. Even when he pulls the empty glass out of your fingers you look at the Duke with questions in your eyes that you hope he can read.

“Are you sure I shouldn’t stay and… observe the conversations?” you ask as the men surrounding Duke now simmer down to chuckles and Duke pauses, then glances at Astarion, noticing his impatience. “I’m sure you won’t miss too much if you’re away for ten minutes or so.” he nods and your stomach clenches but you nod too and inhale deeply before you look at Astarion again, his gleeful expression looks more dangerous than actually happy to you, yet you don’t say another word.

“I will return her shortly.” Astarion ensures Duke Sanolin and when Duke nods to him as well, he briefly licks his lips. “Follow me.” the vampire gestures with a turn on his heel and begins leading you through the crowd.

With leaden feet and arms just as heavy you follow him, preparing yourself for the confrontation. The crimson daggers he was shooting at you the entire conversation, despite how brief it was, make you easily understand that Astarion is angry. Maybe not as angry as he was when he visited your home, but close enough to make you worry about what’s to happen.

The moment main crowd is behind you both, Astarion pauses and turns to you, then grabs your wrist and begins dragging you after him, ignoring servants and several scattered nobles loitering by the ballroom walls as you barely can keep up with him, your skirts burdening your steps.

“I can walk on my own!” you hiss behind him, not wanting to draw even more unneeded attention but you get ignored while Astarion navigates the hall, pulling you deeper into the bowels of the mansion until he arrives to the end of the corridor and pushes open the door.

You try to glance back, to see if anyone is watching, but don’t get the chance when Astarion pulls you into the room with enough force to make you stumble forwards, especially when he suddenly releases your wrist. When you spin around to face him, you watch him slam the door shut and turn the key in the lock, the snap of it sounding like a thunderstrike in the silent room.

Quickly you realize that you’re in party host’s private study as your eyes catch upon tall shelves, shields and paintings adorning the walls. The desk that you nearly ran into, that is now behind you, was empty when you briefly saw it and now you see two full armor knight suits by each side of the door.

At last Astarion turns to you. His expression is a deep frown and he tugs on the sleeves of his bejeweled white and silver attire, then smirks.

“So you’re back.” he starts and you open your mouth to reply but he swiftly raises his upturned palm to you, silencing your words before they leave you. “You’re back and you didn’t even bother telling me. For how long?” the vampire steps towards you and you move backwards away from him, not yet noticing that you’re doing that.

“Last night. I returned only last night and then this morning Duke’s note came.” you hear yourself rushing to explain but Astarion scoffs, his smirk wide and sharp and then it becomes even wider when you bump into the desk behind you, leaving you with no other place to retreat to.

“So instead of sending me a short, quick message that I know you are capable of, instead you prostrate yourself in front of all these rich politicians like a whore begging for attention. I thought I mattered to you more.” he taunts with fire and brimstone in his every word and you begin to feel sweat beading your forehead. Why are you so stressed about confronting him right now? You have no answer.

“I didn’t know I was married to you.” you bravely taunt back with a crooked grin, your palms grasping the edge of the desk and gripping it tight like it’s an anchor to a ship at sea because that’s exactly how you feel right now, lost in the storm that is about to crack the sky wide open.

Astarion pauses his steps at your words, his smirk faltering for a precious moment, then he tilts his chin upwards ever so slightly and takes couple last steps to end up right in front of you, just mere inches away, so close you can smell his perfume and see the dim light reflected in his irises from the few lit candles in the room.

“Would marriage be more preferable than becoming my spawn?” he asks and here it is, just as you suspected it will be – his desire to turn you into his thrall. You knew that he won’t give up the idea easily and you frown, finding your anger.

“Neither would be preferable. Look how you are acting! I do my work but you have the gall to insult me? Call me a whore?” you shoot back and straighten your back, your eyes harden as they look at him and Astarion’s own eyes narrow at your words.

“You told me you wanted me, to be with me.” his voice is dangerously low as he speaks but you don’t care, because what can he even do here, in the home of city’s general, with Duke not far either. Assured that Astarion wouldn’t risk exposing himself by hurting you - you feel emboldened.

“You came into my home and Dominated me, you bastard!” you raise your voice and Astarion’s hands twitch like he wants to do something, to strike you or maybe silence you. You don’t care either way.

“I didn’t force you to say what you said! You wanted it! You admitted it! Now you’re pretending like you haven’t said a word?!” Astarion’s own voice raises as you shout at each other now.

“I’m not pretending! But you’re insane if you think I will drop everything and just run to you the moment I’m back!”

“Why not?! Is carousing with these old cads that much preferable than coming to me?! You take their money so that they can roister with other fat slobs and you try to tell me that’s not what being a whore is?!” Astarion points his finger at you as he shouts, his features twisted in anger and you slap his hand away from your face.

“I’m not fucking them, you spoiled idiot!” you snap back and Astarion’s hand shoots up, his fingers wrap around your throat and start squeezing it.

“But what if you are?!” he hisses at your face while you try to pry his hand off your neck and it finally dawns on you – he’s jealous, isn’t he. He’s jealous because he saw you with the Duke.

“Let go.” you manage to croak with Astarion barely letting you take in any air while your nails scratch at his hand leaving marks, but it’s like he doesn’t even notice that, his crimson eyes blazing with fury and envy that you chose your work over doing something as small as letting him know you’re back.

“No. It’s time you learn once and for all – you are mine.” a wicked grin suddenly appears on his face and while you try not to panic at all the possibilities that can happen, you feel Astarion use his other hand to pull the dress off your shoulders in several harsh yanks, the seams straining and snapping.

“Astarion, what do you think you’re doing.” your voice is coarse, barely a whisper but he’s not even looking at you.

He’s holding you in place by your neck while he moves the dress down your arms, making you release his wrist when the fabric begins cutting into your skin, the garment then is moved lower, your breasts become exposed and you grit your teeth while Astarion moves the top of your dress to your waist, making sure that your wrists are still in the sleeves, binding them to your body this way.

“I know you want to be mine. You can’t deny it, I can hear your heart beating fast and not from fear, little assassin. I’ll show to you just how badly you want to belong to me” vampire responds with a degree of calmness in his voice and when his eyes finally raise to your face, he notices a traitorous blush on your cheeks. “You’re so beautiful when you are forced into submission.” he whispers and you part your lips to speak but stop when you feel the heat of his palm on your breast, fondling it, squeezing it, then his fingertips find your hardened nipple and pluck at it, making you gasp ever so softly with your neck still being squeezed. Your body responds to the rough teasing, desire begins to uncoil in your lower abdomen and for a moment you hate it.

“Stop it!” you manage a whisper and finally Astarion’s fingers on your neck relent, letting you inhale more air but also making you slightly dizzy in the process. You try to remove your hands from your dress sleeves, feeling like you’re being shackled but Astarion interrupts your attempt by harshly kissing you on the mouth.

Your lips were parted as you were gasping for air and he wastes no time to slip his tongue into your mouth. You try to lean back from him but all you achieve is Astarion biting down on your lower lip just for a moment and grabbing your hips, lifting them so that you drop on the desk on your back with a thud. You lift your head to look at him and notice his eyes scanning your exposed chest while he moves your body for you, pushing it more onto the desk.

“What do you think you’re doing! It’s host’s office!” you hiss with both anger and slightly panicked concern that someone might come looking for you, sooner rather than later, but it’s like Astarion doesn’t hear you.

Annoyed that he’s treating you like this you try to free your wrists again only for him to grab at the fabric in a way that it brings both of your hands together and he tsks at you, his eyes meeting yours for a moment while he grins.

“Don’t struggle little assassin, you know you want this just as much as I do.” he says almost calmly if not for his eyes betraying his passion and desire.

“I have to go back, Duke-“

“Fuck the Duke.” Astarion suddenly snaps at you, clearly unhappy that you still try to resist him, try to argue with him, because obviously he doesn’t care about anything but this moment and you. “I will do whatever I please, to whoever I please, whenever I please.” his words are choppy and you feel your heart skip a beat at this. You realize that his arrogance and assurance that nobody can stop him is exactly what you find so alluring about him.

“Astarion-“

“No, no more words from you.” his brows are furrowed and with other hand he finds his way under your dress, finding your underwear and yanking it down with three swift, practiced pulls, wrangling it down your legs with ease. You watch him with surprise because he’s so different right now compared to two other times you fucked. There’s something else about him now, less charm and more confidence? No, that’s not right.

Dominance.

Dominance urged by his jealousy and his desire to make you finally submit.

And then his eyes flash red at you before you notice him holding your undergarment before he bunches it up in his fist and pauses just for a second. Astarion then quickly leans over you, his hand releasing your dress and now gripping your jaw, pushing his thumb and index finger into your cheeks until you are forced to open your mouth. Not that you resist much, caught completely off-guard by his sudden attack. You make a sound of protest and then your own underwear gets shoved into your mouth. You make another noise, startled and shocked but Astarion only clamps a palm over your lips with a grin.

“I think it’s for the best if you remain quiet for now.” he says with a bitter tone and you know he’s still angry, you can see it in his eyes, the possessiveness that he doesn’t even try to fight, because right now he just embraces it. You are his, that’s how he sees it, and he’s ought to teach you that once and for all.

Your eyes scan the room while you try to figure your way out of this predicament and while you’re not looking Astarion leans back from you, his palm leaving your mouth and for a brief second you try to push the fabric out of your mouth, but then clamp on it with your teeth when you feel two fingers plunge into your cunt. Your eyes immediately snap back to Astarion who’s watching his digits begin to pump in and out of you, enjoying how your body responds by clenching and releasing, getting wetter for him by the second. A smirk widens on his face as his gaze remains locked on your core swallowing his fingers with a wet sound.

“This is how I like you best, my little assassin. Submissive and eager for me.” Astarion croons, his jealous anger finally dissipating into nothing, replaced by pure desire. Palm of his other hand presses against the inside of your right thigh then pushes your legs wider apart and the tip of his tongue licks at his upper lip. “You will look absolutely wonderful as you stand by my side in the Crimson Palace.” he speaks more to himself than to you now, his fingers curling and stroking your inner walls, making you shiver and breathe faster as fire quickly spreads through your body, making you forget your fight at least for the time being. “You don’t know it yet, but you will love to be mine, I promise you that, darling.”

Astarion’s eyes do not leave your spread legs when he pulls his fingers out of you, together drawing a muffled moan out of your throat and then his head dips down and you moan around your gag louder when his hot tongue greedily presses against your drenched folds. He licks them, parts them with the tip of his tongue and then rubs against the nub of your clit while his fingers return and spread your entrance, this time making you squirm as your legs shake from tension and uncomfortable position. Astarion has a free hand and he puts it to use, hooking one of your legs over his shoulder while his tongue slithers down from your clit to your wide open cunt and he fills it with eager devotion. You mewl as you watch him with strained from pleasure expression, but soon your neck gets tired and you let your head drop back on the desk while vampire’s tongue explores you as deeply as it possibly can, making you pant out soft sighs at his ministrations.

“Ahh, delicious.” you hear Astarion exhale the moment his mouth leaves you and you exhale with relief when your body relaxes. “But that’s not all, little love.” he coos and your heavy-lidded eyes find his face. You watch him lick his lips, then quickly undo his pants, first the belt, then the buttons and then he pulls out his hard cock, the tip of it glistening with precum, and your throat involuntarily attempts to swallow, the gag in your mouth becoming drenched with your saliva. Astarion laughs. “I see the hungry look in your eyes, but don’t worry, I will give you exactly what you want.” a wicked grin and then he aims his length at you, teasing the tip against your wetness. “So ready for me with so little effort. You’re so easy.” he taunts with a chuckle and you blush heavily because something about how he says it makes your blood run faster and compels you to want to please him.

With a soft hum as he watches himself tease your cunt with his velvety tip Astarion finally pauses, nudging your entrance, pushing in just a little bit and then pulling back. His eyes flick to you to watch your reaction as he does it again and again, making your brain lose any thought except for all-consuming desire for him to stop it, to just fuck you, you’re not used to these types of games, but it looks like this is exactly why Astarion is doing this. He’s enjoying driving you crazy and it’s written all over your face how impatient you are already.

“I wish I could hear you beg, make you put that sweet mouth of yours to good use for once, but alas.” Astarion muses and just as you furrow your brows at his words he wipes everything from your mind by thrusting deeply and powerfully into you.

You cry out, your underwear in your mouth muffling nearly all of it and you watch Astarion smile widely, satisfied by your receptive reaction.

“Good girl, I prefer when you don’t struggle.” he teases and begins pumping.

His pushes are slow in the beginning and Astarion grabs your wrists now, holding them together at your waist as he increases his pace, plunging into you faster and harder. You mewl at his every shove into your core and watch his perfect curls lose their assembly with each passing moment, you see the sweat appear on Astarion’s forehead and his eyes are focused on your breasts that are swinging invitingly as he fucks you on top of this desk and yet he smirks, satisfied with himself.

“You’re perfect. Every time I have you like this I realize it more and more. You’re perfect…” his own voice starts becoming strained, his thrusts hard and heavy, and you wrap your legs around his hips, pushing him deeper into you, making him glance up at your eyes. “Just perfect…” he affirms and bites his lower lip while his face flushes with his physical exertion and his eyes move from yours to your lips, then to your neck.

No, you can’t stop yourself, this feels too good and you bite on your gag as you watch yourself being fucked by a man who you tried to resist for so long. For so long you were trying to escape the truth, deeper truth than that you have feelings for him. Truth, that the thought of being his spawn is not as unappealing as you kept trying to convince yourself. And as his cock strokes you deep inside, making you feel more than pleasure, more than a temporary satisfaction, making you feel like you are wanted and needed, you let go and close your eyes, letting yourself enjoy this fully. But that’s what you were looking for all your life – someone to take charge and just allow you to enjoy yourself. Maybe that’s what you want for eternity too.

You suddenly gasp, brought back to the present as you feel Astarion’s fangs pierce your breast. When you open your eyes you now see that his mouth is wrapped tightly around your left nipple, his tongue moving against it, sucking hard, soothing the pain from his fangs now embedded into your supple flesh. Your eyes meet his when he lifts his red gaze to you and you see nothing but desire in them even through the curl now hanging over his face.

With a wet sound Astarion release your breast and you notice two puncture wounds, slowly beginning to seep blood while he straightens his back, his face covered in sweat and his lips painted in crimson, then his hands move and force your legs open, making you release the grip of your thighs on his hips with ease.

“You’re mine and you will be forever be mine.” Astarion says it with such conviction that you don’t think, you just nod to him as your dry throat tries to make your moans louder. “Yes? Nod again.” he commands and you nod eagerly again while he handles your legs by grabbing underside of your thighs and pushing them up, then down, nearly bending you in half as his cock manages to slide even deeper into you than before. “Good girl.” Astarion’s voice becomes audibly strained but he grins from under his eyebrows and begins thrusting again, making your eyes roll to the back of your head.

Your fingers clench at your dress harder and harder but you don’t notice that at all, instead you arch your neck and let out cry after cry with every mind-numbing pump only to be silenced by your gag. Astarion is panting too, his groans and moans louder and louder each time his body rocks against yours. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room alongside your voices and your back arches, you’re so close now, so close to the promised release.

“Fuck, you feel so good, I don’t think I will ever get tired of fucking you.” Astarion’s heat of passion has taken over him and he pounds into you with reckless abandon now, chasing his own climax without caring to tease you or prolong it any longer.

And then a knock on the door. Astarion doesn’t stop, doesn’t even flinch but you open your eyes, trying to gather your scattered thoughts to understand what’s going on.

“I can hear you in there! Come out at once!” Duke Sanolin’s voice barely registers in your clouded mind and more bangs on the door do not delay the orgasm that is approaching you like a tidal wave. “Do you hear me?!” an angry voice, but you don’t care. Rest of the bangs and words fade from your reality when you close your eyes again.

“Get the FUCK away from the door!” you suddenly hear Astarion snap angrily and the banging on the door stops.

You whine with pleasure, ignoring all of this and feel Astarion bend over you, squishing you underneath him as his tongue leaves a hot trail on your skin between your breasts. And then his voice reaches your mind, a strained whisper.

“Come for me, my love.” he nips at your right breast, his thrusts not relenting and it’s like this is all you needed to hear. You let go.

With a scream of pleasure behind your gag you come, your body straining, your cunt clenching around Astarion’s cock and with a loud groan he climaxes, spilling inside of you and filling you while his erratic thrusts try to prolong the bliss even for a second more. You don’t even feel how Astarion’s fingers dig deep into your thighs as he loses control and everything disappears except your satisfaction until it finally retreats and your body relaxes.

You lay there, gasping for air and finally remember that you can just spit out your gag. Yet before you do, you feel it being pulled from between your teeth and when you open your eyes, you see Astarion gently removing your underwear from your mouth. He smiles to you and then places a kiss on your dry lips, wetting them with his tongue.

“You did so well, my love, so well.” he praises as he gently lets you lower your legs and you try to gather your scattered mind, trying to catch your breath.

“Someone was here. Duke… It was the Duke.” you murmur and Astarion only chuckles.

“Yes he was and now he isn’t. It doesn’t matter. All that matters is you and me. Be mine, little assassin. Be mine forever. You can’t tell me that eternity of us doesn’t sound good.” Astarion’s lips that were whispering against yours now move down to your neck and you tense for a moment, only for him to chuckle and look back at you. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to turn you here.”

“But you are going to turn me.” you begin to find your voice despite your throat feeling raw and Astarion gently rubs a pad of his thumb against your lower lip.

“You want it. I know you do. You want me to take care of you.” he whispers and something breaks in you, snaps in a way you never expected. What’s the point in lying and pretending.

What’s the point in struggling only to die.

The promise of immortality. A promise of eternity with him. Do you feel this strongly about Astarion? But as you look at his tired, sweaty face, as you see his smile that looks genuine and as you see desperate yearning in his eyes you realize that yes, you do.

“I want it.” you respond in barely a whisper and Astarion’s eyes widen for a moment, then he smiles.

“Wonderful.” he says but then pulls back from you, sliding himself out of you and letting his cum seep out of your sore cunt before he helps you sit up and free your hands from binds of your own dress.

You glance up at him as you rub your wrists but you’re allowed that only for a moment before Astarion draws you off the desk and into his arms, holding you firmly. His kiss is sudden and scorching while you still try to recover from everything but his happiness is obvious. Then he leans back before you are even able to kiss him back, his palms quickly move to cradle your face as he looks at you with relief on his face.

“Come to the palace. Tomorrow. I will have everything ready so that your step into immortality is perfect. I promise you this, my little assassin, I will make sure that you don’t regret this.” Astarion whispers and your heart beats faster in your chest. You heard promises like this before, many times, but somehow when it’s Astarion who’s saying them - you believe him.

“Tomorrow?” you ask, still dazed and trying to process everything.

“Leave the details to me. Just come to me when sun goes down. And… don’t change your mind.” he frowns slightly, as if worried you might not appear but you sigh and grasp his waist, pulling your body against his. There’s no fight left in you anymore, just acceptance. So you smile and give him a brief kiss.

“I’ll be there tomorrow evening, as you wish.” you promise and Astarion’s gaze slips down your face, then to your neck ever so briefly before his eyes are on yours again.

“I’ll be waiting.”

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #astarion #lord astarion #ascended astarion #astarion x reader #x reader #female reader #reader insert #astarion x female reader #astarion fic #astarion smut #my fics

23 notes · View notes

universallydestinytaco · 17 hours

Text

🔥 🔥 🔥 🔥 🔥 AW YEAH WE’RE GETTING KICKED OUTTA THE FANDOM WITH THIS OOOONE!!!!

For starters, my biggest gripe with Smiling Friends is how they underutilize so many characters with tons of potential for jokes and storylines, they even brought back Mr. Frog for S2 yet we’ll never see an episode with Charlie’s girlfriend Zoey (she was named that in the Spanish-speaking dub) joining the boys on their hijinks or more time exploring how dysfunctional Pim’s family is because with all the time spent making joke characters like Smormu (Who I REALLY wish was one of the main characters) or Jombo who never show up again. Grim and Gnarly really should have been their recurring rivals cooking up all sorts of different schemes to sabotage the Smiling Friends instead of Frowning Friends being their one appearance only to, spoiler alert, get killed off by the Renaissance Men. Especially frustrating is that the show loves calling back to earlier episodes and even foreshadowing future episodes so with a show with a slight continuity like this at least give us an episode where Pim and Jennifer became friends after he helped her find love and sequel to the Salty’s ep where it shows how the mascots are doing without Simon S. Salty as their boss….then again, with Mr. Frog snd Dj Spitz returning in S2, maybe there is hope we will see other characters again and hopefully with a bigger role.

TW: Implied Abuse

Although I am a Charpim shipper I am not super territorial over the pairing because I don’t mind if the boys are shipped with different characters…as long as it isn’t James. It is rather obvious why I hate James x Charlie and why I get pissed whenever I see it on my dash, and I’m not opposed to seeing fanworks depicting them as exes while highlighting how toxic the relationship is, I do not trust a single soul who ships them unironically or think James’ treatment of Charlie is cute and funny, it’s fucking vile. Go touch some grass.

#smiling friends #pim pimling #charlie dompler #smiling friends smormu #smiling friends zoey #frowning friends #smiling friends charlie #smiling friends pim #Charpim #adult swim

20 notes · View notes

dr-spencer-reids-queen · 3 days

Text

Hopeless: Part One

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.1k

Summary: You and your lawyer try to fight your unlawful arrest but it's not looking good. The entire team feels your loss and tries to concentrate on the case at hand. None of them can predict the outcome.

Warnings: canon violence, canon language, canon talk of death, methods of kill

Season Five Masterlist

Author’s Note: I do not own anything from Criminal Minds. All credit goes to their respective owners. If there are any warnings that exceed the normal death/kills from the show, I will list them.

"There is no lasting hope in violence, only temporary relief from hopelessness." - Kingman Brewster, Jr.

You haven't received your cell number, so you're stuck in the interrogation room awaiting that information. You're already at the prison in Goochland but away from the rest of the inmates. Still, you can feel every bit of despair and sadness seeping through the walls. Your anxiety is in the form of tapping your finger on the desk and bouncing your leg. Your lawyer, Steve Grant is on his way to you to discuss your options and the details of the case.

The door to the interrogation room opens, and Steven walks in wearing a very nice suit and an expensive-looking briefcase.

"Y/N? My name is Steven Grant. I'm sure you know who I am by this point."

"Yeah, my father sent you to me?"

"Yes." He takes a seat across from you and opens his briefcase where the files of your case are. He removes the files and lays them out so you both can see it. "Let's get started, shall we?"

"I should start by saying I didn't do this. I've never seen those men before in my life. If I'm not at work, I'm at home with my boyfriend. I'm in the FBI, why would I want to kill one person much less seven?"

"You know more than most that people in power can do pretty horrible things."

"Before we begin, I just want to say I have everything riding on this. I have a life, a boyfriend, a home to get back to."

"I understand. I will do my best to give you the best possible outcome. They gave me everything they have on your case, so we'll go over the evidence and see if we can contradict what they have. Then, we'll go over possible alibis and prepare for the kind of questions they might ask you. They're giving us a couple of hours together, so that should be more than enough time."

"Okay," you whisper.

The tapping on the desk and bouncing of your leg doesn't stop. All you can think about is Spencer and how he must be taking this. You can't imagine he's doing well. In fact, he's far from it. He walks into work with his hair a bit messy, his eyes a bit puffy, and not his usual smile on his face. He's a complete wreck. He misses you so fucking much and hates that you're locked up for something you didn't do.

All he wants to do is visit you but they're not allowing visitors. You don't have access to a phone, so he's pretty much stuck where he is. He's so fucking sad all the time. He won't feel better until you're out and back in his arms. Derek sees the young genius hunched over as he walks past, and his heart aches for him. The entire team meets in the briefing room to go over the current case, but there is tension in the air because you're not with them.

"I know you're all worried about Y/N, but until we can figure out what's going on with her, I need everyone on assigned cases," Hotch says.

"I talked to the Captain of Virginia PD, but they don't want the Feds on it. Not since he knows she's one of us," JJ sighs.

"Screw them. We should be working on her case," Derek says.

"I understand, Morgan, but the focus is on this case right now. I will do my best to coordinate with Virginia PD. I promise I am doing whatever I can to help her, even if it doesn't look like it. JJ, begin."

"We've got four dead in a home invasion in southeast D.C."

"What was the cause of death?"

"Blunt force trauma. No knife or gun present at the scene."

"Have we been invited in?"

"Yeah, the cops want us to meet them at the crime scene."

"Isn't southeast where all that vandalism's been lately?" Emily asks.

"It's the same area, yeah. Do you think they could be connected?"

"I don't know. The weapon certainly doesn't fit the typical MO of a home invasion killer."

"Well, it's worth considering. It's common for vandalism to escalate into violence, plus there's a lot of anger out there. That neighborhood's mostly black working class. Now, it's being gentrified while the people who live there are having a tough time. Were the victims wealthy?"

"Yeah, it was two couples. They were both part of the influx of new wealth in the area."

"Did police report a robbery?"

"Nothing was taken."

"What race were the victims?" Derek asks.

"One couple was white, the other black."

"Well, if this is related to vandalism, four dead is a hell of an escalation."

"So, there's the potential for a lot more bodies out there?"

"That's what I'm afraid of. We leave in five," Hotch says and packs up his things.

The crime scene is in a house that has steps leading up to the front door, so Spencer stays outside with JJ and Hotch. The lead detective on the case is waiting for the team when they arrive, and JJ shakes his hand.

"Detective Andrews? I'm Jenifer Jareau. These are agents Rossi, Morgan, Hotchner, Prentiss, and Dr. Reid."

"Thanks for getting here so fast."

"What can you tell us?"

The detective walks to a car outside the house that has been blocked off by police tape. There is blood on the car and on the ground, signifying that an attack took place.

"It looks like one of the victims was attacked when he got out of his car. This means whoever did this probably used his keys to get inside and surprise the other victims."

"Who found the bodies?"

"The cleaning woman. She's giving her statement now."

"Dave, would you, Morgan, and Prentiss go inside? We'll cover out here," Hotch says.

"I know you're all used to this, but it's a hell of a sight in there," Andrews sighs and leads the three agents up the steps.

Spencer stays outside since he can't walk up the stairs but when the door is opened, he can see the array of bodies inside covered with white sheets. Emily and Derek are visibly upset but Rossi can tell that it's not because of what's in front of them. Derek looks around the room and clenches his hands into fists before releasing them.

"Are you two okay?"

"Y/N should be here," Derek says.

"I know."

"She would have already known what kind of unsub we'd be dealing with," Emily adds.

All three people hear a sniffle come from outside, and they see Spencer trying not to cry. Rossi is the only one who goes out there to talk to him while Derek and Emily stay inside to inspect the crime scene.

"Hey, kid, she's going to be okay."

"I should be with her," Spencer sighs.

"The most you can do for her is work the case. You know she would have wanted that."

Spencer shakes his head angrily and glares at Rossi.

"Don't talk about her like she's never coming back."

Spencer hobbles away and Rossi goes back inside the house to help Derek and Emily.

"Did the neighbors see anything?" JJ asks the detective.

"Oh, you know, the patrol cars are even doubled in this area because of the vandalism but nothing."

"The unsub would have to be extremely fast and efficient," Spencer adds.

"Look at this." Hotch kneels down next to the car and points to a red puddle on the ground and much smaller drops around it. "There's a pool of blood here and then drops as the victim moves toward the door. How big was the victim?"

"6'1", 6'2". Why?"

"If he was strong enough to move under his own power, you'd expect signs of a struggle. If not, there'd most likely be drag marks. He was carried. That's a lot of dead weight for one person to move alone."

"There's no pool of blood on the porch which means they didn't have to set him down to open the door. There's more than one unsub."

"So, victim one gets dropped here," Rossi points to where the first victim lays, "while number two comes around the corner to see what's going on, and the unsub attacks him there."

"The female victims were probably here when the first attack occurred," Emily points to a spot in the corner. "Which means somebody would have to control them pretty quickly. How many unsubs are you thinking?"

"At least one to move the body inside, another one to take out man number two, and one more to subdue the others."

"Well, vandalism breeds a pack mentality," Emily scoffs.

"If it's the same unsubs, then we're looking at a group of three, maybe four. These aren't kids. They're too efficient. There's control and precision. Juveniles are sloppy."

"He's right," Emily nods. "There is nothing tentative about these kills. There's no experimentation. These guys know what they're doing."

"I don't know," Derek sighs.

"What are you thinking?"

"I can understand vandalism escalating into violence, but that's usually gradual. This? This feels fully evolved."

The local police can handle cleaning up the crime scene, so the team heads back to the BAU to discuss the details of the case and what the next steps should be. Spencer sits down inside the office, looks at your empty chair, and grows sad. JJ pulls up the details of every crime related to the case on the big screen.

"Okay, on September 3rd, fifteen luxury cars had their windows smashed. On September 14th, a new upscale clothing boutique was vandalized. On September 24th, two different restaurants, both catering to a wealthy clientele, had their front windows smashed and their interiors torn apart. Finally, on October 1st, a newly renovated townhome was ransacked before the family could move in."

"So, they went from attacking public property to a private residence, but no victim?"

"The question is, what makes them move from that to this?"

"The vandalism targets were all symbols of the neighborhood's changing makeup and economy. Maybe there's something specific about these victims that set the unsubs off."

"I've spoken to the victims' family members. They've agreed to come in and help however they can," JJ says.

"Garcia, check social networking sites and see if these unsubs have coordinated these attacks online."

"If they dare tweet, I shall flush them out like a bird dog, sir," Penelope declares and leaves the briefing room.

"We need to be asking how these unsubs manage to not stand out in this neighborhood. Each of these crime scene locations is a representation of new wealth and status, but the area surrounding the crime scenes is still populated by long-time residents who are slowly being pushed out."

"That's a lot of disenfranchised people who are all part of the neighborhood makeup. Most likely these unsubs don't stand out because they're probably local themselves."

"I don't know. I'm with Rossi," Emily says to Derek. "I mean, the anger I get, but this much violence? We're looking at at least three men with an incredible amount of rage. Where do you hide that?"

Hotch's phone rings and he sees it's Cheif Strauss calling. He excuses himself and steps into a nearby empty office to take the call.

"Good afternoon, Chief Strauss."

"Good afternoon. I bet you can guess why I'm calling."

"We're working hard on the assigned case. I'm confident my team can handle this."

"I'm not calling about that. I'm calling about Y/N and her arrest." Hotch's heart drops but he keeps his cool. "I'm surprised you didn't call me about this."

"I'm handling it, ma'am."

"Local police have been in contact with me about you. They do not want our help on this. I know it's difficult, but you cannot be working on her case. None of your team can."

"I understand," Hotch sighs.

"I mean it, Aaron. Stay out of this one and let the local police handle it. Your involvement wouldn't be the best idea considering she is under your supervision. I'd hate to have to replace a good team for something like this."

"Yes, ma'am."

Strauss hangs up and Hotch sighs in frustration. It's going to be a lot harder to get information on your case if the local PD is going to his boss about his involvement. He pockets his phone and walks to Penelope's office to see where she's at. He knocks once and enters only to see the details of your case on her computer screen. She has the different victims on display to see the connection, and Hotch shakes his head.

"Garcia, I need you to focus on the case at hand."

"Sorry, sir." She exits out of every tab pertaining to your case. "I have the information you were looking for. My list has seven hundred and thirteen hits."

"Okay. Listen, Strauss cut us off from working on Y/N's case. If she finds out you're looking into it, you can be fired. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good." Hotch leaves her office and rejoins Derek in the briefing room. "I had Garcia run records on anyone in the target area who in the last year was foreclosed upon, filed for bankruptcy, or applied for unemployment, and then narrowed that list down to men between the ages of twenty-five and forty-five."

"And?"

"Seven hundred and thirteen hits."

"The victims' families are here," JJ announces.

There are so many people inside the BAU that keep the entire team busy. Spencer has his part to do but he can't help but feel a bit distracted. His mind often drifts to you and what you might be doing right now.

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds angst #criminal minds series rewrite #criminal minds season 5

15 notes · View notes