#I hope it's something like what you imagined

[roosterforme]

Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw Part 9 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley never felt like this before in his life. As soon as he spent a few minutes in your presence, he needed to keep coming back for more. Your touch and your voice were already making this homecoming something he was hoping to repeat, and he decided to keep pressing his luck.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, language, Bradley getting handsy

Length: 4100 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female teacher!Reader

Check out my masterlist for more! Yours Truly, Bradley Bradshaw masterlist

Bradley promised he would pick you up in an hour. That gave you essentially no time to get yourself ready to go out. At least you didn't have those typical first date jitters, because you and he had already taken the time to slowly get to know each other over the past few months. All of the emails from him that you'd archived into their own folder in your inbox felt precious now that he was home. Now that he surprised you at work. Knowing what he felt like and seeing the way he moved in person seemed to be the only missing pieces, and now everything fit perfectly in your mind when it came to Bradley Bradshaw. 

While you weren't nervous about getting to know someone new, you were a little antsy about trying to make yourself look as nice as you could in an hour. After you'd worked all day. For your first date with a man you already couldn't get enough of. He reminded you that he wanted to take you to the beach, as if you could forget the splendid details he'd divulged over the phone a month ago.

He told you he was going to wear jeans, nothing fancy, but when you looked in your closet, everything seemed tragically terrible. You could practically feel time ticking away as you yanked a simple sundress from its hanger and pulled it on over your cute underwear set. Not that he was going to see that tonight, but it made you feel good regardless. It also made your skin feel flushed as you thought about the photo you'd sent him where you'd gone topless under your bedding, and you squeaked when you heard knocking on your door. 

When you pulled it open, he was there, like a dream. Earlier in your classroom, when he interacted with your students, it felt like you had imagined the whole thing. But nothing felt as real as the warmth in his voice when he softly said, "Hey, Gorgeous," as he filled your doorway with his broad shoulders.

"Hi, Handsome," you replied, even as he leaned in closer until your lips were met with a kiss as sweet as the ones he treated you to earlier. He seemed to be taking your desire to be kissed as soon as he saw you to heart. Either that or he just couldn't help himself, and you were more than okay with either scenario. 

Your fingers ghosted along the buttons of the loud tropical print shirt he was wearing. The fabric was soft as he deepened the kiss enough to let you feel his rough mustache against your skin before pulling away. All of the teasing kisses from a few hours ago made you want to pull him inside toward your couch, but he was already reaching for your hand.

He looked a little tired, and once again you got butterflies knowing he wanted to spend his first evening home from a very long deployment with you. As he smiled and wrapped his big hand around yours, he asked, "You ready for me to show you why deleting that dating app was the best decision you'll make all year?"

Your lips parted in soft surprise at his confidence and his little smirk. Granted, so far, he had no reason to behave otherwise. You let him guide you outside, and you locked your door as you said, "I thought getting my students to send mail to a deployed Naval aviator was my best decision?"

He hummed softly. "Seems as though you can do no wrong."

It was like floating on a cloud, having his attention and gaze fixed on you. How in the world this man wasn't already locked down was mystifying. As his rough thumb trailed back and forth across your knuckles, the butterflies started up again in a big way. It was actually happening. The first date that you'd been daydreaming about on repeat was here. He was following through with it, and now you were expected to act normal.

When he unlocked the door and helped you climb up into his insanely cool truck, he said, "It looks like you can't stop smiling, which is great, because it's a beautiful smile."

You laughed softly and covered your eyes before groaning softly. "I'm just still kind of in shock." You peeked at him from between your fingers. "When I woke up this morning, I was convinced something terrible had happened to you... or that you ghosted me."

Bradley looked truly concerned as he coaxed your hands away from your face and said, "Baby, you thought I ghosted you?"

You gave him a little shrug and said, "The thought crossed my mind. I know you said sometimes they shut off communication from the aircraft carrier when-"

He silenced you with his lips on yours, cupping your cheek with his big hand before breaking away to say, "I've been thinking about you since I unfolded the first letter you sent. And I've been thinking about today since you gave me your personal email address. I'm not going anywhere, and I'm definitely not going to ghost you, Gorgeous." Just as you felt embarrassed for having admitted that much to him, he kissed you again and said, "I want to get you Thai food and take you to the beach. It only took me thirty-seven minutes to get here in traffic, and it should be even shorter now. Since we're going to be doing this drive with frequency, I want to learn the best times for it."

You made a soft sound as his thumb continued to stroke your cheek, and you nodded as you said, "Let's do it."

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

Bradley laced his fingers with yours as he drove down along the coast back to Coronado. The time it took to get to your place was really no big deal to him, but he didn't want it to seem insurmountable to you. Traffic in San Diego could be a nightmare at times, especially in the evening, and he didn't want you to think he wasn't more than willing to do this. Especially after you thought he may have ghosted you. And especially since he was planning on asking you to be his girlfriend. 

You and your students got him through his deployment in a way nothing else ever quite had before. Your letters and emails were informative, funny and thoughtful, and you had this addictively subtle way of always letting him know he was on your mind. After months with Vanessa, all he got was a bad attitude, a partner who clearly wasn't invested, and an email about a water bottle. 

You were singing along to a song he happened to love when he chuckled to himself as he changed lanes. "What's so funny?" you asked, giving his hand a little squeeze. "My singing voice isn't that bad."

"Your singing voice isn't even slightly bad," he replied easily, glancing at your face in profile as you smiled. "I was just thinking about my ex-girlfriend."

"Oh," you said as your smile vanished, and your hold on his hand loosened. 

"Shit," he grunted. "Not like that," he promised, tugging on you gently while trying to focus on the road. "You and I had exchanged more emails halfway through my deployment than Vanessa and I did in seven months. And I'm hoping you'll keep emailing with me on occasion, even though we can text and talk on the phone right now, too. I associate my inbox with you now."

"Vanessa?" you asked, avoiding the rest of his statement. "Isn't that the name of Jayden's dog?"

Bradley nodded. "It sure is," he replied with a laugh. "One of the reasons I always liked his notes the best."

You were looking out your window now as the pretty coastline started to give way to a view of North Island across the bay. "I'll keep emailing you. How could I not? Texts and phone calls would be a bonus."

"I told you, you're going to get sick of me soon, Gorgeous. That's how many of my texts and phone calls you're about to be on the receiving end of." Bradley kissed your fingers as he turned to cross the bridge that led to Coronado, and he murmured, "Start thinking about what you want to eat for dinner. We're almost there."

He would erase all doubts about him from your mind. Your hand already felt like it belonged in his as you and he walked into the takeout restaurant while you listed off some of your Thai favorites. The two of you seemed to translate well from interacting through screens to physically being together, and the fact that he already wanted to put a label on this was a bit surprising to him. But there was still a lot he wanted to ask you about and tell you first, which was proving difficult when you looked up at him with bright eyes as a beautiful smile. He practically blurted out the world girlfriend as you told him you couldn't decide what you wanted to eat.

"What are you getting?" you asked. "I'm torn between Pad Thai, Yellow Curry and Tom Yum Goong."

"Let's get all three," he replied before kissing you. 

When he pulled away, your eyes were still closed as you asked, "All three? I can only finish one."

"Yeah, we can share them," he whispered, kissing you softly again. "My appetite is huge." When the person who was working at the counter had to clear their throat to keep Bradley from pulling you closer to his body like he had earlier in your classroom, he begrudgingly ordered not three, but four entrees while you laughed. 

"You weren't kidding," you mused as he paid for dinner.

"Listen," he told you as he put his credit card away. "There are three things I'm never going to joke about. Food is the first one. My mom always made me clean my plate, and I never outgrew that. If I'm willing to eat two servings of dinner from an aircraft carrier mess hall, then I'm probably going to eat at least that much if it's food that actually tastes good. And second, if I say there's a spider and that I need you to come quick, there is absolutely a spider that I need you to take care of for me." You laughed and bit your lip as he said, "And third, I'm never going to joke about how attracted I am to everything about you."

Bradley tried his best not to cause a scene in the small restaurant, but when you ran your fingers along the scars on his face and up into his hair, his hands found their way to your hips, and your body was snug against his. He didn't say another word, and you didn't either. Neither of you moved any closer for a kiss. You just brushed your fingers gently through his hair, occasionally tugging a little bit, and he thought he could lose his mind this way. With you smiling softly at him, silently and unknowingly showing him that your touch was uniquely something he'd been craving for so long.

"I'll take care of the spiders for you. Don't worry," you told him as you grinned.

"Baby, that's like dirty talk," he replied, his words making him think of that one photo you sent to him of you in bed. You dipped your head, trying to hide from him as you laughed, and he leaned in to kiss your jaw just as his name was called. "You ready for dinner?" he mumbled, knowing he was about five minutes away from his stomach growling loudly even though standing here with you was one of the nicest feelings in his recent memory.

"Let's get you fed," you told him, patting his firm stomach and accidentally snagging one of his belt loops with your finger. He had to bite the inside of his cheek against the growing need he felt for you as you reached out to grab the bag of food, and he followed you back out to his Bronco like a lost puppy.

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

After some debate about where you wanted to sit since the wind was starting to pick up, you chose a blanket on the sand over the back of his Bronco. You honestly weren't sure Bradley could even fit back there comfortably with you. He was so tall and broad, and his legs were so long, you'd practically have to be on top of him so he'd have room. Your mind wandered to the idea of him spilling off of his couch while you snuggled with him, and you could feel the warmth rising in your face as he helped you down onto the sandy asphalt of the parking lot.

With your hand in his, Bradley led you around to the back door where he pulled out a picnic blanket and a cooler. The wind picked up and you shivered a bit, wondering if he would let you curl up against his warm chest and his tropical shirt. 

"I brought this just in case," he told you, turning to reach back inside and grab a well worn, gray sweatshirt that said TOP GUN across the front. He held it up, and you nodded, and then Bradley pulled it over your head for you, his fingers skimming down your sides as you pushed your arms through the sleeves.

"Thanks," you murmured as the oversized garment kind of swallowed you up. It was so soft over your sundress, you couldn't imagine ever wanting to take it off. And the look Bradley was giving you as you stood before him in it warmed you up as much as the shirt itself.

"I like the way that looks," he said, voice a little raspy as the wind pushed at his wavy hair.

"Bradley."

He shook his head, brown eyes fixed on you. "And I like the way that sounds."

You didn't need to eat anything. You could be sustained on making out in the backseat. You thought about telling him as much when he groaned softly, handed you the beach blanket and picked up everything else. "If we don't get settled, we'll miss the sunset, and the food will be cold."

He pressed one hot and heavy kiss to your lips before nudging the door shut with his hip, and you scampered after his long-legged gait to catch up with him. When he asked you to pick a spot for the blanket, you spread it out near some tall dune grass, away from some of the other couples who seemed to have been lured out by the promise of a pretty sunset. And just as you predicted, Bradley sprawled himself out and took up most of the space, leaving you sitting right at his side.

You helped him open up the containers of food and the disposable utensils, and then you watched him reach into the cooler and hold up a bottle of Prosecco and a bottle of a local craft beer. You pointed to the Prosecco, and he opened it for you as you said, "I know you told me you don't have much family, but you mentioned your mom? And how she always made you clean your plate?" You couldn't help but be curious, especially since you'd already told him a bit about your own family through email.

"Yeah," he replied evenly as you took a sip of Prosecco right from the bottle when he didn't hand you a cup. It was sweet and cold, but you almost choked on it when he said, "She died years ago. So did my old man. He was in the Navy, too."

"Bradley," you gasped, sloshing some of the wine onto your fingers as you tried not to drop the bottle. "I'm so sorry." He just shrugged and waved you off, but you ended up with your arms around his neck and the cold bottle pressed to his back as you whispered, "Is that why you didn't really have anyone writing to you other than me and my class?"

His big hand found your lower back through the sweatshirt. "Baby, the only other person who ever writes to me is my best friend, and even that is pretty sporadic."

You pulled away a little bit to meet his eyes as you asked, "What about Vanessa? The human, not the dog."

Bradley laughed and said, "The dog would make a better pen pal than the human. Probably be nicer to me, too."

You were completely taken aback. "What's that supposed to mean?"

He kissed your cheek before getting you settled at his side again, and you watched him scoop some noodles onto his fork. "Means she's not like you. And I'm going to try my best to prove that I'm not like your ex boyfriend who didn't like it when you talked about your job. Shouldn't be hard since I already think your kids are so cool, and I probably read at about a fourth grade level."

"Bradley," you balked as you laughed that he remembered what you told him about your ex, but he was already holding the food out to you.

"Try this and tell me what you think." You took the fork from his hand, tasted the dinner and moaned in appreciation. "It's pretty great, right?"

"Oh my goodness," you told him, digging the fork into the container for more. "It's even better than the place by my school."

You tried the curry next as the sun just about hit the horizon, and Bradley casually said, "We can do this all the time. Or I can surprise you with dinner after work."

"It's not a surprise if you tell me that," you told him before taking another sip of the wine.

"You don't like surprises," he said with a smile, and you realized for the second time tonight that he probably remembered everything you ever told him. The butterflies were back in full force as you and he chatted while you shared the meal. It wasn't like a first date at all. It was like some highly romantic reunion where he kissed you with a bit more frequency as the food containers ended up empty and the sky turned purple.

He was so warm as you snuggled up against his chest with your head on his shoulder. As the first few stars appeared in the clear sky, his big hand came to rest on your thigh, his fingers dipping inside the hem of your dress as the breeze made you cuddle even closer to him. "Was your last mission dangerous?" you asked, remembering how apprehensive he looked and sounded over the FaceTime call.

When he didn't respond right away, you thought perhaps he didn't hear you, but he squeezed your thigh and cleared his throat. "All of them are, Gorgeous."

Your heart clenched. You had him here with you after months of wishing and dreaming. You didn't want to seem pushy by asking, but you couldn't help yourself. "I never thought about what it would be like to... be with someone who deploys for work. Not until we started talking. But now I think about it a lot." His soft grunt next to your ear had you quickly asking, "Is that what it would be like? Always worrying if you're okay? Always wondering if you miss me as much as I miss you?"

He took your breath away as he kissed you, parting your lips with his and tasting your tongue. His lips were sweet from the wine, and his nose bumped yours as his big hand slid around to the back of your thigh. All you could do was hold onto him as he treated you to kiss after toe-curling kiss. You shamelessly moaned his name when he finally let you take a breath, but then he was right back on you. Your fingernails scraped softly along his faded scars before digging into his hair, and he broke the kiss and held you to him.

"You would never have to worry about the last bit. I would make sure of that. But yeah, Baby, the rest of it would kind of suck."

The only thing you could say was, "Bradley," as his eyes searched your face in the darkening evening light.

"I would have been miserable," he whispered. "If you never sent that first package, I would have had nothing to look forward to each day and nothing I was excited to come back to San Diego for." His voice was impossibly deep and alluring as he said, "I thought about that a lot. What if you never sent it? Or what if someone else got it instead of me? What if I didn't somehow manage to earn your attention? I don't like thinking about that. And I don't like the idea of you worrying about me even though, at the same time, it feels really fucking good knowing that you would."

You were melting. You were going to turn into a puddle for this man. This lonely man who had an ex who hadn't been nice to him and never emailed him enough. This man who cleared his calendar today to bring you flowers and visit your kids as soon as he got off of the aircraft carrier. You wanted to say so much as you pushed gently on his shoulders, and Bradley slowly leaned back until he was laying flat with you on top of him.

"Gorgeous," he crooned in the moonlight with the sound of the ocean behind you and his big hands on your thighs. 

You pushed his hair back from his forehead and whispered, "You just got back today, and you gave all of your time to me."

His cheek was warm and rough with some stubble as your lips found his scars. You kissed them just like you told him you wanted to as he said, "It was just me being selfish. I wanted to be around you so badly. I'm already dying for more. Please go out with me again tomorrow?"

It took you all of a split second to agree. And maybe you were being selfish too, but you weren't prepared for the way your heart was racing in time with the butterflies. And how warm his big hands were as they inched up your legs while you tasted his tongue. And how much you knew you were going to want him to stay when it was time to say goodnight.

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

Your hands were all over his face and shoulders and in his hair, and Bradley was nothing short of delighted by this. Your lips drifted from his mouth down to his chin, and he had to try very hard to focus as they grazed his Adam's apple. He had your apartment keys in his hand, with which he was also squeezing your hip though his sweatshirt. It felt serendipitous that he was the one who got your letters, especially since he went from halfway in love with you to most of the way there after one day in your presence.

"Baby, you need to go inside," he warned, but something in his tone of voice just had you clinging tighter to him. "I need you to go inside."

You broke free from where your lips ended up on the side of his neck, and you whined. "I know, Bradley."

"God," he rasped, releasing you completely and taking a step back. "Say it one more time."

You unlocked your door, turned to look at him over your shoulder, and your kiss-swollen lips curled into one of those simply gorgeous smiles that earned you your nickname. "Bradley."

It sounded so fucking good. "I'll see you tomorrow," he whispered. "Lock the door behind you."

You did as you were told with one more little smile just for him, and then he was left standing there alone, trying to catch his breath while he got his phone out and worked on taking date number two from daydream to reality.

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

Why is he like this? They are going to get even more handsy on their second date, and I can't handle it. And he can't even go more than a day without seeing her? He needs to be locked away. Thanks for reading! And thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

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#bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster fanfiction #rooster imagine #rooster x you #rooster x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley rooster bradshaw fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw fic #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick fanfiction #top gun imagine #top gun maverick imagine #roosterforme #yours truly bradley bradshaw

[hhughes]

♯ 𝐌𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐂𝐎◞ 𝑴𝑩¹³

✰ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 ⤫ leclerc!sister x mat barzal

✰ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 ⤫ in which the paddock’s favourite sister arrives at the Monaco GP with a new guest

✰ 𝐜𝐰 ⤫ none.

✰ 𝐚/𝐧 ⤫ ngl. . . this is very self indulgent 🤷‍♀️ but I hope you enjoy anyway <3

f1wags

f1wags: our favourite girl has returned to the paddock; and this time it’s with a guest! Y/N leclerc shows up to the monaco track with who I presume to be her bf, and sits down for lunch with her brothers. the first time we’ve seen the entire leclerc family together in a while since Y/N has been in New York for work.

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user15: family reunion🥺

user19: my royal family of Monaco fr

user77: I’m so happy to see them all together again. I just know Charles missed her so much🥲

user66: I read an article that said Y/N came straight from the airport so this is the first interaction they’ve had in months!

f1wags: he hugged her for a good ten minutes before he let anyone else get a chance

user51: um- are we gonna skip over the bf part??

user16: how do we know it’s her bf tho…

f1wags: they were very affectionate since the moment they got out of the together. the car that arrived from the airport, so assume he’s american and flew with her. they also kissed and it looked like he was meeting her family (charles, arthur, lozenzo, pascal) I mean we won’t know 100% until she confirms it but it sure looks like they’re together. . .

user77: nooo… my wife is taken 😔

user11: I really wanna know who her bf is tho cause I’m sorry but he’s fineeeee

user62: I expected nothing less from a leclerc sibling. they always bag the prettiest people

lando.jpg

liked by charlesleclerc, ynleclerc, matbarzal and others.

lando.jpg: boat day with the bestie(s?) 🛥️

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user23: DID HE JUST—

user65: HE DID😭😭

user21: did lando just hard launch Y/N’s relationship?

user57: yep. tagged the guy and everything💀

user66: he’s such a little menace

user22: I’m not complaining I’ve been trying to figure out who it is for days🙏 thank you lando

ynleclerc: oh lando🫤

landonorris: don’t “oh lando” me, you didn’t say it was a secret????

ynleclerc: what do you think the words NOT PUBLIC means??

landonorris: the lad had his hands ALL over you in the paddock, it was gonna be public news by the end of the weekend… at least this way it came from a reliable source🤷‍♂️

user62: don’t let the fact that Y/N is dating some hot hockey player from New York distract you from the fact that the besties are reunited!!! I’ve been missing this duo so much

user90: and they’re causing chaos as usual🥲

ynleclerc

liked by charlesleclerc, matbarzal, and others.

ynleclerc: since we were little, I’ve always been your biggest supporter and that will never change charlie. watching you achieve a dream you’ve worked your whole life to achieve is something so magical and all I could ever wish for you as a sibling. congratulations C! I love you endlessly❤️💌

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user13: “watching you achieve a dream you’ve worked your whole life to achieve is something so magical and all I could ever wish for you as a sibling” UM— EXCUSE ME WHILE I GO SOB😭😭

charlesleclerc: I couldn’t possibly do any of this without your love and support. my lucky charm, always. je t'aime❤️❤️❤️

ynleclerc: ❤️

user76: he finally did it😭🙏

user66: these are so beautiful… did you take them?? @.ynleclerc

ynleclerc: I did! I’ve never been so grateful that I carry my camera with me EVERYWHERE. I feel so honoured that I got to capture this entire weekend. I’ll cherish it forever😚

matbarzal

liked by charlesleclerc, jackhughes, and others.

matbarzal: starting the off-season right ❤️

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noahdobson: just casually posts a picture with charles leclerc and lando norris 🧍‍♂️

matbarzal: I’ll still remember you when I’m famous😘

user72: what. the. fuck.

user77: all of us rn cause this is the wildest crossover I could ever imagine between F1 and hockey😭

user11: they’re both so hot it’s kind of unfair

ynleclerc: ❤️

matbarzal: je t'aime❤️

user55: I wonder if she made fun of Mat’s awful canadian french 😭😭

mattymarts: you expect us to believe you did laundry? I don’t think you even know how

charlesleclerc: I won. guess you’re gonna have to come to every race now 🤷‍♂️

matbarzal: should’ve never told you about superstitions 😔you don’t need them, that win was all you bro😉

charlesleclerc: miss you guys already. gonna have to come to a hockey game next season

matbarzal: you should! we’d be honoured to have you

user77: did someone say bromance??

user19: someone check on beau

ynleclerc

liked by charlesleclerc, matbarzal, and others.

ynleclerc: monaco❤️

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matbarzal: red is definitely your colour baby❤️🥵

scuderiaferrari: we agree😌🏎️

charlesleclerc: thanks for coming sis❤️

arthurleclerc: miss you already🥺❤️

sydneymartin: so iconic😍

ynleclerc: says the ms. iconic herself 🥰

user21: UM— Mat looks so good OMFG

user72: she definitely dressed him

user62: YN please keep the Mat content coming🙏

user14: if I was YN leclerc all my life problems would be solved

ynleclerc: If I had your lashes all my problems would be solved. you’re stunning 😚

user16: you know those couples that just make sense? they’re definitely one of those

user88: can’t wait to see her at games and stuff

#── ❛ 𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐢’𝐬 𝐬𝐦𝐚𝐮’𝐬 ✗ MB13 #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal x you #mat barzal x y/n #mat barzal x oc #mat barzal fic #mat barzal fanfiction #mat barzal smau #f1 smau #f1 x reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader

[kasagia]

Right Hand VI

Pairing: Na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!exBeneGesserit! reader Summary: You're tired of listening to others and of being afraid of prophecies that don't make sense and that were made up by someone else. Your present belonged only to you. And hell knows, you're going to take your future too. Warning: 18+; violence; blood; Feyd Rautha; death; smut; I was listening to 'Down Bad' by Taylor and I used quotes from a few of them; TEXT NOT CHECKED - I' barely managed to write it on time' I've just ended it and wanted to post it for you, since you are waiting for it so long; it took me ages but I hope you will like it; Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen's Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ Main Masterlist ~•♤♤♤•~ PART V ~•♤♤♤•~ Epilogue ~•♤♤♤•~

Feyd rarely felt pain he didn't like. The years spent on Giedi Prime—or rather, years of enduring his uncle's methods of making him a true Harkonnen, his worthy successor—made Feyd love pain. He found pleasure in it—something he had to learn if he wanted to survive.

But it didn't bring him any satisfaction or pleasure when you pierced his chest with one of his swords. He feels pure pain. Anger, betrayal, and hurt.

He hates the way he falls limply to his knees in front of you. He hates that he still looks at you like you're a saint. He hates that he hopes you'll at least look him in the eyes, as if that would bring him some kind of salvation. He hates how lost he feels now and how he's slowly losing awareness of his surroundings. He hates that even though you stabbed him, all he can do is stare at you, clinging to the sight of you more than to his life.

"This will be the beginning of a wonderful alliance, Lady Y/N."

He feels you unhook your poisoned dagger from his arm. Feyd thinks you're doing it to finish him off. Poetically kill him with the weapon he gave you. He closes his eyes and waits for the final stab or throat slit. But nothing like that happens. He doesn't have the strength to turn around and see exactly what you're doing, but your words alone are enough for him to imagine the scene that is happening behind him.

"I may not be a Harkonnen, but I've picked up a few of their habits. If you want an agreement between us, show me your hand." After your words, he can hear a hiss from Atreides when you plunge the dagger into your joined hands, piercing them both through.

Feyd would have laughed mockingly if he hadn't spent all his energy on breathing slowly. He remembered explaining to you how contracts, such as arranged marriages, were sealed on Giedi Prime. The Harkonnens shook hands and pierced them with swords, thus signing a blood pact. This also applied to marriages and other such things. Blood bound them stronger than any words or signatures on paper. He cursed himself for the fact that, seeing your scared face at his words, he withdrew from this idea and decided to make a verbal agreement between you. He should be the one to bind you with his blood, not Atreides.

The steel in his body rubs against his lower ribs, but it does not damage any major organs. He tries to keep the sword in the exact same position you stuck it in, but he feels like he's going to faint from all the pain, the blood, and the fear for you that he feels now.

You made him so weak that even after you stabbed him, all he could think about was your safety and your well-being. Every shaky breath he took, every slow beat of his heart as he fought to stay conscious—it was all for you.

He just hoped like hell that you weren't lying a few moments ago, that this would all turn out to be just one of your games, and that you would soon end Atreides' life. But it's not like that.

"Let this blood be a symbol of our union." Your sweet, dangerous whisper reaches Feyd's ears.

He's raging with powerlessness and anger. That Atreides dog didn't deserve to mix his blood with yours. Only Feyd should be able to do this. Only his black blood should merge with your crimson, staining your joined hands as you swore allegiance to each other. His heart hurts more than the wound you gave him as he imagine how you and this desert rat are now echanging each other's blood.

If he hadn't been placed in such a vulnerable state by you, he would have ripped Atreides' heart out with his bare hands for daring to mix his blood with yours. A cold shiver runs down his spine at the thought of Atreides connecting with you in yet another way. A way Feyd was robbed too many times.

He tries to get up, but he doesn't have enough strength. All he can do is place his hands on the floor, trying to take the weight off his torso. The blade scratching his flesh bothers him much less than the fact that Atreides has the nerve to touch you or that you're blatantly ignoring him while playing whatever game you're playing right now.

"Leave him to me. I want… to repay him for all these years of fulfilling his wishes." The cool, composed tone of your voice that you used many times when the two of you dealt with inconvenient prisoners did nothing to inspire his hope or quench his rage.

You really betrayed him. You, of all people. How stupid and naive he was to believe you. He should have killed you the moment his eyes met yours. You were an intruder. A spy in disguise. His bittersweet end.

The door slams shut behind Atreides. Feyd hears your footsteps, the sand from your soles falling back onto the ground—the same ground where his black, thick blood is now flowing. You walk over to him; if he could focus enough, he would see the toes of your shoes.

You kneel in front of him, gently tugging on his head, causing him to rest on your shoulder. He can smell your blood dripping from your hand. You stain his head with it. Under any other circumstances, he would have appreciated how close you were to him, but now, with the sword rubbing uncomfortably against his insides, your touch doesn't bring any comfort at all. Even your lips pressed against his forehead cannot calm the volcano of emotions boiling inside him. But he is helpless. He is unable to do anything; he is completely surrendered to your grace. It wouldn't bother him a few hours ago. Now he hated it.

"I'm sorry." You whisper, then use the voice on him to tell him to fall asleep. When he drifts off to sleep at your command, he is already planning how he will take revenge on you. And hell knows you're going to pay him for it.

"He'll be furious." One of your spies comments as she helps you carry Feyd's body out of the sietch.

Inessa was the only Harkonnen woman you could reasonably trust. She's done your dirty work many times, but... never THIS. You somewhat understood her concerns, but currently, when you both had to carry Feyd through the Fremen corridors and go unnoticed, you didn't necessarily approve of it.

"I am aware." You reply, looking around. Inessa and you somehow patched up Feyd's wound. Now you had to either drag him to the surface yourself and hope that someone would find him in the chaos of the fight or leave him with some of his soldiers.

You didn't like any of these ideas. But you had to do what you planned if you wanted to regain your freedom, even if it meant that Feyd would hate you for it for infinity.

"Fucking angry. I'm serious, Y/N." Inessa warns you again. You roll your eyes at her, for a Harkonnen she was very fearful.

You remember how her hands were shaking a few minutes ago as you both stitched up your new Baron. It was a makeshift dressing and still required treatment by a doctor, but it was enough to get Feyd to the ship and back to base. During this time, you will take care of everything here. You hope that by the time he wakes up, you will have finished what you set out to do. Otherwise, you don't see your future well.

"Just get him out of here." You grumble, turning into a side corridor, and encounter Harkonnen soldiers fighting the Fremen as they kill the last of them, their eyes shifting to the two of you. You nod at them. Without a word, they approach you and take Feyd from you. Inessa looks at you, worried.

"What if he wakes up?"

"You stuffed him with painkillers, and I ordered him to sleep. He won't get up until you're back on the ship." The woman sighs and shakes her head, looking at you intently as you speak.

"Y/N. You've had some… creatively stupid ideas, but this one is the worst of them all. He won't give up. You know it. So why are you doing this?" She asks, taking you off guard for a moment.

She was right. You could have returned to the ship with them, gone back to the safety of Giedi Prime, and let Feyd fight Paul alone. You could have let go and stopped participating in a war that wasn't yours. But at what cost? You've been obeying someone all your life. Bene Gesserit. Prophecies. Feyd. It's finally time for you to deal the cards. And you will do it. In your and Feyd's best interests. You just hoped that he could… forgive you, or see the reasoning behind your actions.

"For myself. For my freedom. For us. This is the only way to end the matter of Atreides, Fremen, and Arrakis. The only effective way."

"Don't you know it yet? You will never be free. We women will never enjoy men's freedom. There will always be someone to whom you must submit. You can't change your fate."

"Then I'd rather die trying." You say, turning on your heel. You don't look back to see her reaction to your words. You had too little time.

The burning sensation on your hand only reminded you of running out of it. The dagger that Feyd gave you must have also had an effect on Atreides. You don't know how advanced he is in Bene Gesserit teachings, so you had to hurry before he detected the poison in his body. Or, God forbid, neutralise it.

You wipe your sweating forehead with the sleeve of your hand as your body begins to fight the poison slowly accumulating in your body. The antidote rested safely in a small syringe hidden in the handle of the dagger you kept strapped to your thigh. You just had to use it when the time was right.

You hope you will get everything done before you die.

You wander through the corridors without knowing where you are. You just have a feeling in the back of your head about where you should go. Besides, the escaping Harkonnens kind of showed you the way into the sietch.

Your hands are shaking as you slowly approach the main room—the one where the Fremen usually gather for large meetings and in case of an attack. Still, you thank Feyd for forcing you to attend the Harkonenn war meetings. At least now you are more familiar with the location of the Fremen's rooms and methods.

The closer you get to the main hall, the more Fremen women push past you, and you feel a little more confident walking through the crowd with them, confident that they are leading you to your place of harm in case of an attack. Even though the Harkonnen were already retreating from the area, some of them were still fighting the Fremen, who craved the blood on their swords and didn't let them just leave. You can only imagine the Feyd's wrath that they will have to face. His men didn't come... fully armed. Apparently it was supposed to be a quick action—get in and out with you, then launch a full attack and invasion.

You know that once he wakes up and heals up a bit, he's going to paint these halls with blood before he burns them to the ground.

Entering the main room, you immediately take a seat by the wall, watching all the Fremen gathering, carefully looking for Atreides among them. He probably had to make sure they "cleared" the halls from the Harkonnens. It makes you sick to think of them bragging about this as a victory over the Harkonnens. It makes you wish you had a little bomb with you...

"Are you already hiding in the shadows?" You shiver when you hear him whisper in your ear. You haven't learned to recognise his steps yet. They were irregular, different, and hard to detect and remember—as if he were constantly moving through the sand like a feather.

"The quicker I adapt, the better, right?" You ask, raising an eyebrow at him in challenge. He shakes his head in amusement and watches the Fremen gather with you. It's strange that somehow no one has noticed him yet.

"I'm starting to understand why my cousin kept you so close to him."

"Cousin?" You ask in shock, turning your head towards him so you can look at him. This time he ignores you, not shifting his gaze from the Fremen.

"A little surprise. Maybe we all have a bit of Harkonnen in us after all?" He banters without giving you any of his attention. You snort indignantly, looking at the gathering people again.

"You look tired." You comment, wanting to tease him. You can barely keep yourself from stabbing him with your poisoned dagger a few times. But since he was talking to you so... carelessly, it meant he couldn't detect the poison. Good for you.

"I always am. I will rest when I sit peacefully on the imperial throne."

You would laugh at him if you could. He might easily sit on the emperor's throne, but he wouldn't be able to hold power over all the families for long. Certainly not if you and Feyd had anything to say about it.

Your heart clenches as you remember the moment you stabbed him. You had to. There was no other way to get rid of him long enough for you to take care of everything here. Also, he wouldn't allow you to do that if he knew what you were up to. Besides, if you didn't stab him, Atreides and he would get into a fight. Unfortunately, you weren't that confident in Feyd's abilities. He would be in a state of distraction if your well-being was at stake.

Besides, Atreides' words convinced you of this decision more than anything else.

More than one great king fell under the intrigue of a lesser man.

If there was anything you could praise about Paul Atreides, it was his cunning. And you were sure that if Atreides was somehow going to defeat Feyd, it would be through intrigue and trickery. And then you weren't ready to save your baron. So you had to use drastic measures to get him out and allow yourself to function fully. You couldn't give Atreides any leverage or advantage over you. You certainly couldn't reveal what a weakness Feyd was to you.

"Hmm… you have to survive first." You answered thoughtfully. Out of the corner of your eye, you see him turn his head to look at you. His intense, analysing gaze makes you burn as you have to endure his unwanted attention.

"With such a talented Bene Gesserit as MY right hand? I have not the slightest doubt. You proved your loyalty by killing my cousin. I have no doubt that you are capable of great things. However... this sudden change of sides is shocking, I must admit."

"Why? Because I chose something better for myself? It was the same with Feyd. I could either stay among the Bene Gesserit and hope they wouldn't send me to breed with anyone, or I could take matters into my own hands. And I don't like blindly entrusting my fate to someone else, Atreides."

"I see... you look good with independence, Harkonnen witch, but don't forget who you answer to."

"Of course, Fremen messiah." The nickname you give him makes me chuckle. He reaches up and tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear. You look carefully at his bandaged hand, which you pierced with a dagger.

You find yourself comparing his hands to Feyd's. Harkonnen's hands were hard, rough, trained from years of using all kinds of weapons. Atrdida's hands were smoother, less stained by effort. Another difference between them was that Feyd would never let anyone bandage the wound you gave him. He would rather wear them proudly until the wound heals itself. You should think it's sick, but years spent by his side have taught you… to appreciate such gestures. Maybe you really had a completely different perception of normality?

Atreides' fingers trace your jaw, caressing it gently. You look into his eyes and immediately see the familiar gleam of audacity in them. He looked at you like you were a prize—a nice thing that he managed to take from his enemy, which he can now put on his bedside table and look at to remember his victory. Under any other circumstances, you would have bitten his fingers off, but unfortunately, you had to behave. But only for a moment longer.

"What do you think you're doing?" An angry, cold female voice echoes behind you. Before you know it, you're being pushed sideways against the wall. A dagger at your throat. You act automatically. You attack a woman, disarm her, and push her against a wall. But before you can put a dagger at her throat yourself, Atreides steps between you.

"What's necessary, Chani. I would suggest you not attack my guest." The woman glares at him, and for a moment, you think she's going to attack him or spit on him. Then her anger shifts to you.

"This Harkonnen witch has killed more of our people than any of them. She should be dead, not taken in as a guest." She growls furiously, giving you a distrustful, mad look. You understand her perfectly. If you were in her place, you would do the same. Only Feyd, unlike Atreides, couldn't stop you from hurting your rival.

"It's not up to you to decide her fate."

Chani gives the two of you one last hateful glare and pushes past Atreides, moving into the crowd, away from the two of you. You look at the woman carefully, analysing her gait and posture. Similar to Atreides. So you found his teacher.

"Your…"

"Concubine." He finishes, thus answering your question. You raise an eyebrow at him in surprise.

"I see."

"Jealous?" This time, you can't help but snort in amusement, giggling at his absurd question.

"I would sonner be jealous of a sandworm than of you. What is bewteen us is just an agreement. Don't forget that, Atreides."

"That's why I like you. Give me a moment. We'll talk later. Don't go anywhere. I will find you."

He puts his hand on your shoulder. You assume he thinks it's a gesture of reassurance, but it's not for you. You anxiously wait for him to move away from you so he can speak to the crowd of Fremen.

You shiver as you briefly make eye contact with Chani, who is standing at the other end of the room. She's still seething with rage. You're not entirely sure why she's so devoted to Atreides, but after thinking about it longer, you realise what her reason is for being so protective over him. You would probably do the same things for Feyd as she did for Paul. However, you would be... more ruthless towards your rival. You wave to the woman, smirking. She looks away from you, focusing her gaze on Atreides.

You study him as well, carefully observing him as he speaks to the Fremen. He is imperious and powerful, but also arrogant and conceited. His overconfidence that he acquired among the Fremen—the belief that he was the chosen one—will lead to his death. You will lead him to death. Otherwise, no one will stand a chance against him. He had one significant thing that could ensure his victory: a huge crowd of people who blindly believed that he would bring them salvation if they obediently followed his every request.

And maybe you would feel sorry for these people and try to help them if your own freedom and future weren't on the line.

You play with the handle of your dagger. You press a small button. A small ampoule with a needle falls into your hand. You hiss, injecting the contents of the ampoule into your arm.

Atreides was right. - You think, listening carefully to the man's speech to the crowd. - More than one great king fell under the intrigue of a lesser man.

The faint hum of the ship's engine gives Feyd a clear indication of where he is. He opens his eyes and looks around the room. He's in the bedroom of one of Harkonnen's ships. He sits up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, and looks at his bare chest. He furrows his hairless eyebrows in surprise when he sees no wound or bandage—just a tiny, sealed scar in the area where you pierced him with the sword.

"Where are you going?" Your quiet, protesting whisper makes him freeze. After a while, he feels your warm hands on his shoulders as you pull him back into the soft sheets and into your arms. You cuddle up to him, wrapping your arms around him and burying your head in the crook of his neck. "Stay. We still have a lot of time before we land on Lankiveil, so you can spend it in bed with your wife. I doubt we'll find a moment of peace for ourselves when our little Na-Baron demands swimming lessons from you and a tour around the new planet, so use this little moment of peace."

Feyd's heart skips a beat when he feels your lips brushing on the skin of his neck and hears you calling yourself his wife. He allows himself to drown in the warmth of your body and the feeling of your gentle touch on his skin. He buries his nose in your hair, shuddering slightly as you place small kisses on his neck and lick his skin, teasing him. However, one thing was still bothering him…

"Little Na-Baron?" He asks, confused, when you lazily stroke his head with your fingers, drawing patterns on its pale skin.

"Our son. I pleased you so well last night that you forgot about our son, or are you just not awake yet, darling?" You ask him teasingly, opening your eyes to look at him for the first time.

Feyd is speechless when he sees the spark of malice in your eyes and the beautiful smile you give him. Your beauty, the calmness with which you lie curled on his chest—as if it were the most normal thing you do every day—and the strange warmth that spreads across his chest because of it make him lose his ability to speak.

You giggle, pulling him closer to you and placing a tender, gentle kiss on his lips. You moan, enjoying the feeling of his plush lips, sucking on his bottom lip as you claim him as yours. Feyd feels himself starting to harden just from the feeling of your lips on his and the teasing movements of your fingers around his nipples.

"I…" He tries to speak, but then he hears the baby's soft whimpering. He tenses up, unaccustomed to any interaction with children.

His gaze goes from the cradle placed in the corner of the room to you in pure panic, as he has no idea what to do with the crying baby. But you don't seem to care about the baby crying as much as he does. You groan in protest and pull away from him, burying your face in the pillow.

"Mhm... go to her, it's your turn." You mumble, not giving him a glance, as you hug the pillow instead of him. He starts to be a little jealous, but that feeling fades away, replaced by panic as the baby's cries intensify.

"Now you're letting me go?" He asks, hoping you'll change your mind and take care of the crying demon in the cradle yourself.

"I simply found a better use for you elsewhere." He huffs, leaning towards you and ruffling your hair. You punch him in the chest and force him out of bed. He rolls his eyes at you and turns hesitantly towards the crib.

He feels his legs shaking and his heart beating with nervousness. Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen is stressed and nervous by a crying baby in a cradle. He breathes deeply as he stands over the cradle.

His world stops when his eyes meet small irises that are a similar shade of blue to his. And his heart stops when he sees a little copy of you. Your child is undoubtedly a reflection of you. She only has his eyes, but the colour of her skin and hair, the shape of her nose, mouth, and eyes are all you. Feyd's heart pounds as he stares at the small miracle before him. Suddenly, the sounds reach him again. Panicked, he takes the baby gently, making sure not to accidentally hurt her, and in a few quick steps, he is by your side again.

"I… I think it is hungry." He says, reaching out towards you to hand the baby to you as quickly as possible.

"Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen, did you just call our daughter it?" You ask angrily, sitting on the bed and looking at him furious. You sigh at his helpless expression and take your daughter from him. "Forgive daddy, Katerina. He doesn't usually behave like this." You mumble sweetly to the baby, trying to calm her down.

Miraculously, because Feyd can't call it anything else, you manage to calm down the baby in your embrace, her little lips pursing in dissatisfaction as she waits for you to feed her. Feyd swears she makes the exact same face you do when you're impatient or angry. His heart melts even more at the image in front of him.

Feyd sits on the edge of the bed, watching in fascination as you feed your baby. This scene seems... unreal to him. He had never experienced anything like this before—the feelings of warmth, safety, and boundless love and devotion that appear in him when he looks at the two of you.

He may have had vague memories of his mother singing bedtime lullabies to him and Rabban, but... he had never felt the way he did with you and your daughter. He had never felt that disarming feeling of home that made him allow himself to become vulnerable for the first time in many years.

He uncertainly reaches towards the child and gently strokes his daughter's head. The colour of her hair is identical to yours. Feyd's lips form involuntarily in a smile when the child reaches her little hand to his fingers, tightening his fist firmly. As she gently moves his hand away from her head, she does not let her grip on his fingers loosen. She was strong for a baby. She certainly had a warrior nature inherited from both of you. Feyd couldn't wait to train her...

He found himself thinking that all he wanted was to curl up in this bed with you and hold you safely in his arms before he would be brutally torn from this beautiful dream or vision.

He sits on the bed, looking at the two of you, when suddenly the bedroom door opens. The thud of small feet on the metal floor echoes around the room, and that's all the warning Feyd gets before the little white-haired boy lunges at him.

"Dad! Dad! We'll be there soon! I can't wait. Uncle Rabban told me that there are huge oceans that can swallow our ships if we land wrong! Is it true?" Asks the child, sitting on his lap and holding him tightly.

Feyd hesitantly wraps his arms around the boy, making sure he doesn't accidentally fall from his lap to the floor. His gaze quickly shifts to you in utter confusion. Rabban as a caring, mischievous uncle? What the hell was that supposed to be?

"Your uncle has a habit of distorting some facts, Feydor. I assure you we'll be fine. And Lankiveil is wonderful, isn't it, honey?" You ask Feyd, resting Katerina on your shoulder and making sure she burps.

"Yes. It is beautiful." He says, unconsciously running a hand through his son's hair as he looks at the three of you, unable to get over the shock and awe.

"I want a hug." Your son demands. You laugh as you pull him closer to you. When you see that Feyd isn't moving to join you all, you grab his hand and gently guide him back to the soft pillows. You lie there curled up, you with Katerina on your chest, Feydor between you and him as you wrap your arms around each other.

His son mutters something to his sister, but Feyd doesn't hear him. All he can do is stare at the three of you in amazement.

"Now sleep. Both of you. I don't want to hear any grumpy complaints about not getting enough sleep, okay, my boys?"

'It only happened once." Feydor mumbles, manoeuvring your and Feyd's hands to hug him tightly. "Besides, Dad was whining worse than me."

"I have no doubt that was the case. Your dad is a terribly fussy and grumpy man." You laugh and lean in to place a quick kiss on Feyd's lips. He strokes your waist, moving closer to you and your son as baby Katerina mumbles something in a language only she knows.

Feyd can only watch tenderly as his little family falls asleep, curled up in each other's arms. And he believes that this is the best possible future that can await him. He doesn't want the throne. He doesn't want to become emperor. He just wants to be able to fall asleep and wake up with you in his arms and your children running around. It's all he dreams about.

The younger Feyd would certainly laugh at him and mock him for such a trivial goal he had set for himself, but what more could he want with the title of baron and you by his side?

He saw perfectly well how the lives of his uncle and emperor turned out and knew the tragic fate of great people in power who decided to devote their entire lives to achieving the greatest possible influence. Feyd didn't want to follow in their footsteps. He wanted you. He realised, with horror, that this was enough for him—the vision or dream he had now was his ideal future.

"I love you." He whispers to your sleeping form before the darkness overwhelms him again.

He wakes up again on the ship, in the same room, and on the same bed. The difference is that your warm body is not pressed against his, and the throbbing pain from his stomach spreads uncomfortably throughout his body.

He groans, sitting on the bed and looking around. His hairless eyebrows wrinkle when he sees one of your spies with him. He automatically grabs the hidden knife and attacks your spy before she notices that he woke up.

"My Lord Baron, I can explain…" The woman says this as he presses the blade against her chest. She stops talking when he cuts off her access to the air by tightening his grip on her neck.

"Where is my right hand?" He growls, sticking to the remains of his control when he refrains from killing her. However, he does not stop himself from making a light cut on your spy's neck. Years of experience have proved that people were more willing to talk after he took some blood from them.

"It really wasn't my idea. She decided so. She knew that you would not let her do what she was planning, so she had to somehow... get rid of you from there, my lord Baron."

"Hm... that sounds like her, but... I would like to hear more about that plan of her. Say something useful and I might even spare your life." Feyd purrs, lazily dragging the blade down her neck to her collarbone, making a small cut.

He preferred not to hurt your toy too much. He didn't know how you would react to the loss of this particular spy. She must have been someone you trusted to entrust him to her.

But that didn't mean that Feyd couldn't land his anger at you on her for leaving him behind and completely unaware of your actions.

"Long ago, the Bene Gesserit had only one reverend mother. Their order was small then, but it was developing well. A certain ritual was invented to ensure that the most powerful of them was in power. It… is about the struggle of life forces. I don't know exactly how it's done, but… lady Y/N said that they both have to die for one of them to survive. She… she knew you wouldn't let her, so she had to make you leave that rat's nest so she could get the job done." A cold shiver runs down Feyd's spine. He needs a moment to compose himself and process your spy's words before he speaks again.

"They both have to die? What do you mean?" He asks, unconsciously tightening his already painful grip on the woman. His hand, the one holding the dagger, trembles slightly as he impatiently stares at her, waiting for an answer.

"I... they have to... they... their hearts stop beating and... the one who is stronger and has more life energy takes over the other's powers and survives."

"So... she may lose and die?" Fed sees your spy swallowing heavily after hearing his question. Thanks to this, he already knows the answer to it.

Strangely, instead of the huge, red fury and bloodlust, everything he feels is fear. Since he arrived at Giedi Prime, he has never felt fear. His uncle made sure that this emotion did not prevent him from reaching the ideal that his uncle demanded from Feyd. But at this point, when the vision of your dead body appears before his eyes, Feyd feels almost paralysed by fear of your life.

"There is... a little possibilty, my lord Baron."

This information is enough for him to make a decision. He stabs your spy in the stomach and allows her to sit on a bed. He reaches the exit in a few steps and opens the door with a bang. A doctor and two soldiers are waiting in the corridor. They look at him with fear in their eyes when he comes out, covered in blood. Before they can speak and probably inform him about his state of health, Fed is already growling at them and giving orders.

"Heal her and bandage her. She was only fulfilling my fiancee's orders." Fed tells the doctor. He is pleased with the surprise he sees on your spy's face. He intends to enjoy informing everyone about his 'engagement' with you. If you could have your plans, he could have some of his too. "Tell the pilot to turn back. And call more ours. We will burn these rats' nests to the ground."

With this promise, he leaves the room, ignoring the pain in his trunk. He must have found you before Fremen left with you for another hideout. He had to be fast and precise if he wanted to have you safe by his side. Maybe he should also ask the doctor for a sedative. Just in case you were stubborn enough to fight him instead of cooperating with him.

"What do you think?" Atreides' question catches you off guard for a moment. You stop watching the Fremen as they prepare to leave the sietch and shift your gaze to Atreides, raising an eyebrow in question. "About them. About my speech there."

"Are you looking for praise?" You mock, taking a closer look at what exactly he's putting into his bundle.

"I'm looking for a second opinion. Objective. Analytical and thorough." He replies, tying the fabric as he waits for your response.

"They will do whatever you want. Isn't that enough for you?" You ask, licking your lips as you choose your words carefully. You can see beads of sweat forming on his forehead. Paul wipes them away with his hand, not yet aware of the poison that courses through his veins.

You wanted to make sure as much as you could that when the moment came to defeat him and take his life force, there would be no shadow of a doubt that you would emerge victorious from the duel between you. After he went through the Reverend Mothers ceremony, you could try to perform the old ritual of reclaiming power between you two. This hasn't been done for centuries. So you hoped that everything you remembered from the old scrolls was true and that Atreides wouldn't surprise you with anything.

Even if he was a Kwisatz Haderach, you're still going to defeat him. No one and nothing will decide your fate.

"For now, yes. But in the future, I will need their full devotion. After all, I won't be the one to rule them on Arrakis." You raise your eyebrows questioningly, curious as to what his big plan for the future might be.

"Who do you want to entrust them to?"

Silence falls between you as you both look at each other intently. You know he's judging you, wondering how much he can tell you and how much he can hide from you. And you have to be convincing enough to gain even a little bit of trust from him. You know that stabbing Feyd helped you a lot with that. No matter how much it hurt you to do it.

"To be honest, you have the best skills to serve as Governor of Arrakis. The only question is, will you be equally faithful to me?"

"Me? Why?"

"They're already afraid of you. Besides, I saw your power—you're quite a powerful Bene Gesserit. Even if you don't like being called that, you can't cheat or change your destiny, no matter what."

"But... it is not all about power and fate, though is it?" You ask, slowly approaching him. "It is... something more there. Much more than we know." You whisper, looking at him with your most captivating gaze. Feyd would have killed him and tortured you if he saw you flirting with someone else... but luckily he wasn't here. And you had to somehow lower Atreides' guard.

"Indeed." He mumbles back and takes a step towards you. His fingers gently caress your jaw, tracing it until his fingertips brush against your lips. "My mother told me legends about the birth of the most powerful of the Bene Gesserit. A woman who could bring thousands to their knees with a wave of her finger, tamed the most bloodthirsty of all beasts. Stilgar... has suspicions that you may be the mother of the one, the one to come. Of course, this conflicts with his perception of me as the chosen one."

He spoke the truth. You were the most powerful of the Bene Gesserit. But not because you were born according to their program. You simply had potential, and they had way too much time and no obstacles to train you differently. You were supposed to be their perfect pawn in their game, to provide them with the Kwisatz Haderach. And now… you will kill the one who was supposed to be him.

"Even so, you don't lose power. They still listen to you. More than anyone else." You say, shifting your gaze from his eyes to his lips. He licks them, holding your jaw tightly as he leans slightly towards you.

"I may be my father's son, but I'm not going to make the same mistakes. You know, it is much safer to be feared than loved because... love is preserved by the link of obligation which, owing to the baseness of men, is broken at every opportunity for their advantage; but fear preserves you by a dread of punishment which never fails."

"The prince Machiavelli." You say, knowing a quote from the book. You're a little surprised that he would read something like that. He also seems amazed that you know what book he took these words from.

"Indeed. Hmm... Maybe you're not that cruel and bloodthirsty Harkonnen witch people think you are. After all, you're a bit educated." Under any other circumstances, you would have kicked him in... his tender place for this. But now you have to smile sweetly, comforting yourself only with the thought that he will soon die at your hands.

"Believe me, Atreides. I am everything they talk about and more." You mumble before leaning in to connect your lips in a kiss.

Kissing him is… different from kissing Feyd. Less intense, less hot, and less passionate. With him, you don't feel that familiar thrill of excitement you feel every time Feyd literally devours you. This kiss is... too polite. There's not an ounce of desire in him, at least not on your part. You try to be persuasive, though, caressing his lips, but it's not the same plush softness of Feyd's lips. Your mind refuses to be fooled, and you realise with horror how deeply your new Baron has managed to get under your skin when you haven't been able to enjoy the kiss of any other man.

Atreides reaches for your hips, pulling you closer to him as he deepens the kiss, moaning into your mouth. At least he was the only one having fun out of the two of you. You place your hands on his shoulders, slowly pulling your hidden dagger from your sleeve as you let the man kiss you and explore your body with his hands.

You almost sigh with relief when his lips finally leave yours. He moves to kiss your neck, and you decide that this is the moment to start the ritual.

"Stay still. Don't move or speak." You use the voice on him. He stiffens in an instant, his eyes widening slightly as the steel of your poisoned blade presses against his neck. "You were right. It's better to make them afraid of you than to love you."

Out of the corner of your eye, you see him grab his hidden knife. But before he can stab you, you place your hands on his temples and recite the old formula, beginning the ritual. You feel yourself slowly starting to lose strength. You both kneel to the floor, life draining from the two of you.

It has begun. - you think as darkness takes over you.

This... is different from what you expected. Nowhere is it written what happens after the connection between the brains of the Bene Gesserit combatants is made. Or what kind of test are the two of you being put through to find out which one of you is stronger. You thought you and Atreides would stand in some imaginary arena and fight until one of you killed the other.

At least you would prefer this to the burning pain that overwhelmed you. You feel like you're immersed in pure, wild fire. All your nerves were burning. You felt your body, but at the same time, you were far from it. And all you could see and hear was blackness, screams, whispers, and songs in a language foreign to you. You feel like you've gone mad. Any pain you've felt doesn't compare to what you're going through right now.

You feel every cell in your body tear apart, and at the same time you remain in a void, unaware of anything except the feeling of pain.

But you endure it.

And suddenly, everything disappears. For a moment, you feel or hear nothing. It's just you and your consciousness as you anxiously await the turn of events.

Then various images begin to appear before your eyes—visions of the future and the past. You see every possible course of events that could occur and every single scenario that may happen. In some visions, both you and Feyd die; in others, it's just him or you; and in others, you both live to old age together. One element is constant. Only one. And you shudder every time you see the familiar figure of your future son ascending the throne as the Emperor and taking care of the entire world, restoring balance and peace.

All of Atreides' power has passed onto you. You knew everything. All possible futures. And they scared you more than you thought they would. And you feel completely different than you thought you would...

After some time and tens of thousands of visions, you return to your body. You begin to feel everything around you—the soft sheets beneath you, the softness of the pillow beneath your head, and the quiet beeping of the machines keeping you alive.

You struggle to open your eyes, hissing as the light hits your eyes. You look around, expecting to find a familiar hospital room, but instead you find yourself in Feyd's chambers. On fucking Giedi Prime.

"Welcome among the living." Feyd's hoarse voice reaches your ears. You turn your head towards him—too quickly, making you feel a little dizzy—but you open your mouth to speak anyway.

You have a terrible coughing fit, and your throat is drier than it has ever been on Arrakis. As you curl up on Feyd's bed, coughing up your lungs, you see him quickly fill a glass of water from the corner of your eye. He sits next to you, pulling you against his chest. You lean your back against him and drink the water greedily.

Feyd gently strokes your back, watching carefully as you drink the water. His gaze is watchful and attentive as he makes sure you drink the last drop from your glass.

When you finish, he takes your glass and walks over to the table to set it down. A cold shiver runs through you as you feel the absence of his presence. You remember how the last time you saw him, he was unconscious and injured. Because of you.

"I was more expecting to be chained to a wall in a prison cell. Or to have your harpies hovering over me and waiting for you to cut me up for them." You say jokingly, teasing him. But he doesn't laugh. You see him tense at your words before he slowly turns to face you.

"I had such an idea in my mind a month ago, when I found you pale as death in the arms of the equally dead Atreides. But I guess enough time has passed for me to get over it… or I just killed enough Fremen and doctors and Bene Gesserit women who couldn't bring you back to calm myself down."

"Month?" You ask, swallowing thickly as you bravely endure his stern glare.

"Mhmm… a month, two weeks and five days to be precise. This whole time, you were either losing your pulse or screaming until your throat was torn. Also, you had a fever that we barely managed to break down, and you were pronounced dead a few times, but who cares, right?" He asks casually, but you can clearly see the rage bubbling inside him despite his obvious concern for you.

"Oh… that's… a while."

"A little bit more than a while." He growls at you, playing with his dagger—the exact same one he gave you. You shudder as you see how much the blade has bent from the blood of the people you used it on.

"What about Atreides?" You ask, confused, wondering if it was really a good idea to bring this up now. Especially since he is playing with a poisoned dagger in his hands. And you used up the antidote to it (apparently) a month ago.

"I have his head. Do you want it on a silver platter, or should I just frame his tongue and hang it on the wall? Maybe right next to yours for being a liar and a traitor?" He asks furiously. But that's not what scares you the most. He's calm. Too calm and composed. And this was often how his anger manifested itself before he killed his victims.

"I... you know perfectly well that I had to do it. If I had done it differently, his... skills would have been lost. And I... now I see everything. I can prevent everything, I can make everything fine. Isn't that a big advantage for you? Have an oracle next to you?" You ask, slightly nervous about what he's going to do next.

"Depends on what this oracle wants to show me and what it doesn't want to show me. But since you know everything and the entire future, you probably know what I will do now." He says and heads towards the exit.

Your heart clenches, and you feel an inexplicable panic as you see him walk away from you. You can't stand how cold he was towards you. You have to do something. You can't just let him go.

"Feyd." You call after him and get out of bed to follow him. When you're on your legs, you lose your balance, and you would have fallen to the floor if Feyd hadn't caught you in his arms.

You dig your fingers into his shoulders, holding onto him as you breathe quickly. You look at each other for a moment, allowing yourself to immerse yourself in the closeness of the other one.

Feyd places his hand under your knees and picks you up in bridal style. He puts you on his bed again and pulls away to leave. You grab his elbow tightly and hold on, forcing him to stay by your side as you give him a desperate, pleading look for him not to leave you.

Feyd sighs, sitting next to you on the bed. He leans towards you and rests his forehead against yours. He closes his eyes, brushing his nose against yours. And you feel really calm for the first time in years.

"You have no idea... I have killed men for smaller things than that. The only reason you're still alive... is because I prefer to destroy you myself. Without the help of any sick rituals or poison. You'll be begging me to kill you, little witch. I'll make you go through the same damn pain you put me through. You'll be begging me to stop making you scream. Oh, and I'll make you scream much louder than becasue of this stupid ancient ritual."

You know he's mad at you. And he has every right to do so. But you can't take his words seriously. Not when you have irrefutable proof of the depth of his feelings for you. As he said, he killed for less. If he wanted to, he would have gotten rid of you or hurt you by now. But he didn't.

"I'll happily scream because of you, my Baron." You reply, placing your hands on his cheeks. You stroke his cheekbones with your thumbs, trying to memorise every little bit of his skin.

"I… I'm serious." He growls at you. He places his hand on your neck and squeezes it gently. You smile and press a kiss just near the corner of his mouth.

"Me too. Do it. Show me how loud you want me to scream for you." You challenge him, placing small kisses on his face.

"Y/N... I should have killed you ages ago, woman. You poisoned my mind, you stabbed me with a sword, you left me alone to deal with the mess you made, you forced me to worry about you while you slowly died in front of me day by day, and I couldn't do any-fucking-thing. So tell me, how can I get past this? Why is it that all I want to do is fuck you until I feel like you're really alive and around me?"

You bite your lip, trying not to moan at his words. You lick your lips and lean towards him, kissing him. He moans into your mouth and tries to pull away from you, but you grab his neck and pull him towards you. Your heart speeds up as your lips caress his as you give all of yourself to him in that kiss.

You gently massage his scalp and lie down on the pillows. You pull him with you as he starts to kiss you back. You moan into his mouth, wrapping your legs around his hips. He pulls away from you with a growl and presses his forehead against yours, trying to calm down for your sake. After all, you had just woken up... too bad his cock wasn't as sympathetic to you as you rubbed against him.

"I… my mother was a Harkonnen, you know? Maybe that's why I was so drawn to you. Like calls to like or something like that." You gasp, remembering the memory you saw. Feyd furrows his hairless eyebrows in surprise. A shiver runs across his skin, realising the power you've taken from Atreides.

"What else do you know?" He asks, caressing your cheek. You turn your head and press a kiss on the palm of his hand. You surprise him even more, but he's not going to protest when you show him affection. This was very rare in his life, and the fact that this small, voluntary gesture of adoration was coming from you made him even harder.

"That I don't want to lose you for some visions that may or may not happen. That you love me and that these months have been torture for you. That you hated me as much as you needed me to come back to you. That I… only want to think about us. I only care about our future, and I'm willing to watch this world burn if it means I can hold your hand until the end. with no fear that fate will make us hate each other. That I want you to be the only prophecy I care about."

"What about your escape from fate? You never wanted… to be part of this Kwisatz Haderach thing. Will you run away from me when you see that the path we are following leads inevitably to what you were so afraid of?"

His doubts are absolutely right. But that doesn't change the fact that you need him close to you right now. That you need his reassurance that everything will be fine, not his resentment. And you know it was wrong of you to demand from him things like that, but... nothing about your relationship was healthy anyway.

"Fuck it if I can't have us. Fuck it if I can't have you." You say and pull him in for another kiss. He moans in shock into your mouth but quickly responds to you with equal passion. You gasp as he grabs your waist tightly and lifts you up, making you sit on his lap.

"You said you love me." He gasps as he slowly removes your nightgown that he dressed you in himself.

"I did... I also stab you." You say as your hands reach up to start undressing him as well.

"You did. And you killed Atreides." He purrs against your jaw, placing kisses and hickeys there.

"I did." You groan, your hands shaking as you try to get rid of his clothes as quickly as possible.

"You handed me over to our people."

"I did. You are quite heavy." You giggle as he blows on your neck, tickling you, before sinking his teeth into it. You dig your fingers into his back, pulling him close to you.

"Why did you do this?" He asks, pulling away from you to look at you carefully, gauging your reaction, making sure you were always on his side, and doing everything for your mutual good. For his good.

"Because I decide about my fate. Not Bene Gesserit, not any Atreides, not you or anyone. Only me. And I want you. And love you. And need you. But only as my equal... and if you will have me."

"I won't let you go anymore." He warns, laying you down on the bed and towering over you.

"I will never want to leave." You promise, looking into his icy blue eyes and stroking the scar on his lower stomach—from the wound you gave him.

"Good."

"Good."

"Say it again."

"Good?" You ask teasingly, pressing kisses to his neck and giving him a few hickeys, marking him as yours with more than just his scars.

"No. You know what."

"I love you."

"About damn time." He growls, devouring your mouth. You moan as he bites into your lower lip. You both don't hold back anymore. Feyd marks you like a map, as if he wanted to memorise all the sensitive places that made you moan and writhe in pleasure, pressing into his muscled body.

You forget for a moment the whole world, everything you've done for him, everything you both should have discussed—all you can think about is Feyd. About wanting to be closer to him, about needing him as desperately as he needs you. So how can Feyd resist you when you're so willing to take him in? When he had dreamed of this moment for years? When can he finally satisfy his desire for your body?

He trails his kisses lower, gently taking your nipple into his mouth and cupping your other breast, massaging it. You moan, scratching his scalp, throwing your head back against the pillows, and grinding your hips against his.

You're both starting to get annoyed by the underwear that's preventing you from clinging to each other the way you want. Feyd rips your panties off of you, wasting no time in pushing his fingers into you. You whine, thrashing around on the bed, wanting more and yet too sensitive for anything else. You open your eyes and gasp at the sight of his full, erect length rubbing against your thigh. Feyd pinches your nipple, making you moan and shifting your gaze to him.

"Eyes on me, little witch."

"But... ach!" You moan as his fingers speed up inside you, tears forming in your eyes as your hips move in time with the rhythm of his fingers as you chase your orgasm.

"Listen to your Baron. Eyes on me." He pauses to slap your pussy. You moan, biting your lower lip. "And don't hold back any sounds. Or I'll punish you like I should have since you woke up."

It's very hard to keep your eyes open for him. Especially when his fingers massage your clit so perfectly and fill you up. You reach your hand to his hard cock on your thigh and rub it gently.

He growls, kissing you hard and punishingly, as you try to speed things up and make him lunge at you in a frenzy of lust, when he wants to tease your pussy and punish you accordingly first.

For a month he waited by your bedside, bravely holding you through the stages of your screams and high fevers, making sure you were alive, breathing, and your heart was beating in a rhythm he had memorized. He deserves to have some fun with you...

"Feyd... please..." Your moans, the kisses you place on his jaw, and the way your fingers caress the scar on his muscled stomach—the one you gave him yourself—make him lose his restraint, which was already frail and weak. At least that's how he explains his desire to immediately fulfill your wish.

His arms wrap around you tightly as he gently pushes into you, making sure his entire alabaster length will fit inside you. He stops, cursing in his tongue and resting his forehead against yours as he gives you a moment to adjust to his length. Finally. He finally feels you all around him. And you're tighter than he dreamed.

"Damn… you little witch…"

"I know..." You gasp, wrapping your arms around him, and kiss him hungrily, basking in the feeling of fullness as his length perfectly fills the void inside you. It's warm. It's nice to feel him so close to you. It's nice to be with him. You moan as he starts to move slowly, testing how far he can go.

Feyd growls, picking up his pace when you don't protest, his hips bucking wildly against yours, and you wrap your legs around his waist and pull him closer.

He grips one of your hips and cups your cheek with the other, making sure your eyes are focused on him. He kisses away the tears streaming down your cheek, licking them off your face. He kisses you fervently and hungrily, catching every moan and grunt you make as his hips grind against yours. A wet sound echoes through the room, occasionally interrupted by a moan from either of you as you finally come together in the most primal, animalistic way, demanding each other.

"Mine. Only mine." Feyd growls into your neck; his thrusts are faster and more precise, making you bite your lip to hold back your moans, but he doesn't let you do it for long. He wants to feel and hear all of you. He wants to revel in his victory. That's why he kisses you, biting your buttom lip to the blood. He pulls away and leans his forehead on yours as he listens to the little sounds you make as he fucks the brain out of you. "Can you feel how deep I am? How well am I filling you? You will be a beautiful Baroness. Fuck. My future wife. The mother of my children." He moans in your ear. You don't answer; you take ragged breaths, listening to the squelch of your joined bodies echoing around his chambers.

"You were meant for me. Just like I was for you. I will never let you escape again, I will never again let you out of my sight for more than a second, I will never again let you fight against the world and fate alone. We are the two sides of the same coin... WE. ARE. UNITY." He growls, making one last few hard pushes into you, making you both cum. He captures your lips in a kiss, muffling both of your screams as you fall apart around him, feeling his warm seed flood your womb.

You shake, wrapping your arms around him tightly, trusting him to hold the weight of both of you as you see nothing but white light in your orgasmic haze. You can't feel your legs, but you know you're still clenching them tightly around him. Your mind is empty; you feel amazing, electric bliss.

And for that moment you knew what cosmic love really meant. And you would fight with anyone to be able to experience it whenever you wanted.

"I love you." Feyd whispers, pressing a kiss to your temple and tightening his grip around you.

He slowly pulls out of you and collapses next to you, still holding you in the iron grip of his arms. You lazily snuggle into him and trace the scar you gave him with the fingertip of your finger. Guilt grows within you, and for a moment, you think that he purposely allowed this scar to remind you of what you did.

You decide to talk to him about everything tomorrow. It was just the two of you for now, and you were going to enjoy this as long as you could. You place your head into the crook of his neck and take his hand in yours. You tangle his other hand in your hair and snuggle into him, sighing as you feel his touch, warmth, and scent around you.

You both fall asleep cuddled together. And for a moment, you allow yourself to be in bliss of his touch and closeness, not worrying about any politics or issues that you should discuss instead of... giving in to something you have wanted for a long time.

From now on, you decide your fate.

Only you and Feyd.

That's why you make sure that your first child will be a daughter.

Taglist: (I REALLLLY hope that everyone who wanted to be here is here...😅 I;m sorry if I missed someone <3) @skymoonandstardust @prettybubblesintheair @thegabbyh @himesuedi @wo-ming-bai @beebeechaos @mamawiggers1980 @moonsoulk @avidreader73 @heartarianagran @dreamlandcreations @ancientbeing10 @lovereadingfanfic @jeansjoie @workof-a-rr-t @aixicl @ladyredstar1991 @evangelineimagine @hobobobo-fett56 @happyant3 @marsflys @aaaaaamond @kamcrazy123 @k1swass @yum-yahgurt @tyns13 @oh-you-mean-me @menari @tyns13 @vaf24 @dacreshoney @emrennoll-blog @tian-monique @slightlypossessed @celestialadrift @lauramooij05 @flaps200 @chixnugg22 @aaaaaamond @marvelfangirl04 @sw33tsnow @emeraldsgirl @imyourbubblegumpop @tempt-ress @harkonnin @k1swass @alana4610 @cloudroomblog @lotus-888 @lowlyloved @spoolsofgreenspoolsofblack @w3ird11 @kythefangirl25 @hobobobo-fett56 @nj452896 @oneandonlybbygrl @noirecatt @iloved1lfs0 @mamawiggers1980 @lololfixu @barnes70stark @obsessedvibee @aaaaaamond @workof-a-rr-t  @oneandonlybbygrl @alexa4040 @lowlyloved @toertchen @em-100 @caintheking @justarandomflowerchildofthenight @hrtifyeren

#feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha x you #feyd rautha x y/n #feyd rautha #feyd rautha harkonnen x reader #feyd rautha harkonnen #feyd x reader #feyd x you #feyd oneshot #house harkonnen #dune part 2 #oneshot #feyd supremacy #feyd smut #feyd rautha x bene gesserit reader #feyd imagine #feyd rautha smut #feyd rautha harkonnen x you #smut #dark romance #toxic behavior

[books]

Writer Spotlight: Rose Sutherland

Rose Sutherland @rosesutherlandwrites is a Toronto-based writer who grew up a voracious reader with an overactive imagination in Nova Scotia (where she once fell off a roof trying to re-enact Anne of Green Gables!). She's been to theatre school in NYC, apprenticed at a pâtisserie in rural France, and currently moonlights as an usher and bartender—in between writing queer folktales, practicing yoga, dancing, singing, searching out amazing coffee and croissants, and making niche jokes about Victor Hugo on the internet. She's mildly obsessed with the idea of one day owning a large dog, several chickens, and maybe a goat. A Sweet Sting of Salt is her debut novel.

Keep reading for more about character arcs in A Sweet Sting of Salt, Rose's favorite fanfic tropes, and some excellent reading recs 👀

Can you tell us about A Sweet Sting of Salt and how you came to write it?

A Sweet Sting of Salt is a queer (f/f) historical reimagining of the classic folktale of the selkie wife, set in 1830’s Nova Scotia. I call it a “reimagining” because while it draws on the folktale, it’s not a retelling of that tale so much as a story playing out in relation to that mythology. I’d wanted to write something centering a love story between two women for a while, but the initial spark came from a Tumblr post! It suggested the idea of selkies testifying before the UN as victims of human trafficking, which reminded me of all the things I disliked about the original folktale and its inherent darkness that is generally glossed over, starting me down the rabbit hole toward finding my own story.

How did you approach research for A Sweet Sting of Salt, and what is a favorite historical fact you learned?

I joke that I did a lot of research by osmosis: I already had a lot of base knowledge about the location, having grown up in Nova Scotia, and then set the story in a period that I’ve been absorbing information about in a low-key way for ages—1832 is also the year of the student rebellion in Les Mis, so I’ve been gleaning tidbits about this era since I first got into the musical and book back in high school. However, I had to do more specific research into things like British divorce law, period midwifery, and animal husbandry. I also visited some small, hyper-local museums on the South Shore that gave me an invaluable glimpse into daily life. I also did some fun practical research into things like “How long does it take to walk from x to y?” and “How cold IS a plunge into this body of water in March?” (Spoiler: Very.) 

A fact that fascinated me but didn’t make it into the book was that some early European settlers in the area were granted lands by luck of the draw, pulling from a deck of playing cards: Each card was assigned to a specific 50-acre lot, and whatever you pulled, you were stuck with it.

When we meet them, Jean and Muirin are isolated for different reasons. What do you hope readers still searching for their people take away from A Sweet Sting of Salt?

That there’s always hope. It’s valuable and important to keep reaching out to the world around you, to be open, and not cut yourself off—the biggest reason for Jean’s loneliness at the beginning of this story is the way she has come to keep everyone around her at arm’s length, shutting herself away out of fear, and refusing to let anyone truly get to know her because she thinks that’s the best way to protect herself from being hurt again. Reaching out to others can take a real act of courage, especially if you’ve had bad experiences in the past, but “your people” will reach back to you.

Found family elements play a strong role throughout the novel, within supernatural and mundane settings and across species. Was this something you intended from the beginning, or did this grow out of writing the relationship between Jean and Muirin?

I always intended for Jean to have a found family of this type, which is something that a lot of queer people identify with, but those bonds also got stronger and more meaningful as I wrote, especially once Jean and Muirin began growing into their own family unit—their new relationship and the real danger that comes along with it put pressures on Jean’s other relationships that I hadn’t originally considered. Disagreements with Anneke and Laurie over Jean’s choices arise from their deep concern and love for her, and her own love and care for them, reflected in her responses, is a big part of what made them feel like a real family, for me. Jean and Laurie always having each other’s backs while also being the first to call one another out on their bullshit ended up being one of my favourite dynamics in the whole book.

The selkie myth carries an inherent element of transformation. What is a character transformation you most enjoyed writing, and why?

On a character level, the change in Jean’s worldview following a conversation with her childhood sweetheart meant a lot to me—it heals an old wound for her. I love how grounded and self-assured she is afterward, in spite of the daunting task still ahead of her. But my favourite transformation to write was the antagonist’s mask-off moment, where they directly threaten Jean for the first time. It’s so sly and coded so that only she will understand the menace behind it, a real dun-duh-dunnn moment, which was a lot of fun for me—I also enjoy the foreshadowing elements in that exchange.

This is your debut novel. Did anything surprise you about getting it from manuscript to published book?

Oh my gosh, how LONG it took! After I finished the original draft and decided it was worth attempting to publish, I spent over a year revising based on my own thoughts, input from beta readers, critique partners, and my mentor, Maureen Marshall (whom I connected with through the now defunct Author Mentor Match program, and whose book, The Paris Affair—about a young gay engineer attempting to help Gustave Eiffel secure the funding to build a certain celebrated Parisian landmark— is coming out in May). After that came a full year of querying agents and getting rejected. A lot. People loved Salty but weren’t quite sure what to do with her or where the book would fit in “the market,” which was hard to deal with at the time but is hilarious in retrospect: Salty was snapped up less than a month after she finally went out on submission! But that was back in 2022, and the book is only coming out now. Publishing can be painfully slow.

You’ve written fanfic in the past—do you have a favorite fanfic trope?

I’m not sure either of these counts as a trope, but I adore a character that’s “pure of heart, dumb of ass”, and love a truly unhinged Fanon Explanation For Canon Object. As a longtime Les Mis stan, I ship Tholomyes/Getting Punched. If you know, you know.

Do you have any favorite queer retellings of folktales you can recommend?

Right here on Tumblr, I’m a huge fan of @laurasimonsdaughter, who writes delightful riffs on classic folktales, truly inventive urban fantasy spins on old lore, and her own original folktales. 

I’m currently reading Spear, an amazing queer, gender-bent, Arthurian novella by Nicola Griffiths. Anna Burke’s books Thorn and Nottingham are up next on my TBR. Lately, I’ve been reading a lot of brilliant queer historicals that aren’t retellings (I recently loved Suzette Meyr’s The Sleeping Car Porter and Heather O’Neil’s When We Lost Our Heads) and wonderful historical retellings that aren’t queer (I highly recommend Molly Greeley’s beautiful, heartbreaking Marvelous, about the real-life couple that inspired Beauty and the Beast). Queer, historical retellings aimed at adults seem to be considered quite niche, still, and can take some digging to find! So, throwing this out to Tumblr: Do you have recommendations for me?

Do you have a writing routine? Is there a place/state of being/playlist you find most conducive to your writing practice?

My routine is chaotic at best, but I find I do my best work earlier in the day, so I usually scribble in my journal while I have breakfast, and then progress to working on my current project as I drink my second cup of coffee. I’m lucky—my day job is an evening gig, which mostly allows me to write on my preferred schedule… but I’ve also been known to have a bolt of inspiration strike at 10pm and dash home to write until well past midnight on occasion. Nothing quite like the hyperfocus zone!

What’s next for you? Are you working on anything you can tell us about?

No official news yet, but I’m currently working on a story set in 18th-century provincial France based on a true unsolved mystery of the past. It has me delving into a very specific branch of French folklore, and I hope future readers will pick up on common threads with one popular fairytale in particular. I’m really excited about where this one is headed, but keeping the details close to my chest for now!

Thank you Rose for taking the time to answer our questions! If you love queer fantasy and old folktales, grab yourself a copy of A Sweet Sting of Salt, and be sure to share your queer folktale reading recs with Rose on @rosesutherlandwrites!

#writer spotlight #writers' room #booklr #writers on tumblr #writing community #writeblr #creative writing #debut author #reading #rose sutherland #a sweet sting of salt #selkies #myths #fanfic #Les Mis #queer fiction #f/f fiction #queer folktales

[anothermansjeans]

Bau team having to be at an award show for some reason and you win an award and make a speech:

Shout out to donatella versace for making this dress and to that pretty fbi agent whos taking it off of me tonight *winks*

Spencer: 🧍

Bau: 😲

(LIKE IMAGINE THIS BEING THEIR FIRST EVER MEETING LIKE... HE WOULD DIE)

OKAY SO I DIDNT HAVE THEM AT THE SHOW (im so sorry i will write them at an award show at some point this is just what came to my mind as i wrote) BUT I HOPE YOU ENJOY!!

cw: innuendos, pretty fluffy, spencer light (i'm sorry)

wc: 599

singer!reader masterlist

++

You were one hundred percent sure you were currently dreaming. Here you are, sitting in Crypto.com Arena in downtown Los Angeles, sitting at a small table with your manager, and your best friend, Katie. It was the night of the Grammys, and your album, favorite, was nominated for best pop vocal album. Never in your life did you imagine you'd be nominated, but here you were.

Early in the day, you had been very nervous regarding the whole thing. You were sitting in your hotel room with anxiety creeping up on you and Katie sat next to you and held your hands.

“Hey, it’s okay, you'll be okay!”

You let out a shaky laugh, “I don't know, K, I’m freaking out. I won't win– I shouldn't have even asked Spencer to be here. He came here to do nothing but sit in this hotel room and watch me not win.”

“Y/N, babe, he loves you and he doesn't care if you don't win. He was very happy to be here, even if he can’t be at the arena.” She sighed, giving you a knowing look, “now, shut the fuck up before he hears you speaking like this.”

You groaned and put your head in your hands. “I just don't want to feel like this.”

Her sigh was soft, and she gently rubbed your back, comforting you. “How about this,” she began, “I’ll give you a dare you have to do if you win. That way you'll be too worried about that and not on the whole Grammy thing.”

You gave her a skeptical look, “what dare?”

She gave an evil look and leaned into you. “Well you're wearing a one of a kind Donatella Versace,” you have an acknowledging hum, “and you're going to look hot as fuck,”

“Yes, and?”

“And if you win, you have to throw in a shoutout to Donatella and the man taking it off of you tonight.”

“Oh my God,” you smacked your hand over your mouth, concealing some of your giggles, “okay…”

And the rest of history. You sat through the ceremony, listening to the live performances and the other category winners, only holding your breath when they made it to yours.

“And the Grammy goes to…” Breathe in… breathe through… breathe deep… breathe out… “favorite, Y/N Y/L/N!”

And holy shit, you won.

You shakily looked over at Katie, who had the biggest grin, and even with her here, you wish Spencer could also be next to you as well, giving you a hug and kiss before encouraging you on stage. After the congratulations from the people around you, you walked up the stairs and over to the microphone, letting out a breath.

“Um, thank you so much, I- wow,” you laughed, looking down at the award in your hands, “thank you to my management, and my producers, and my best friend, and my muse for this album. And a huge thank you to the fans; without you I wouldn't be employed.” You gave another laugh, looking out to your friends and thinking of the man currently thinking of the man sitting on a hotel bed watching this speech. “Also…” a smirk was plastered on your face, “shoutout to Donatella Versace for making this dress, and the pretty FBI agent who's taking it off of me tonight!”

The crowd went crazy over it, and when you saw Spencer later that night, he was a blushing mess. It also helped that Penelope made sure to text you that everyone was watching and instantly had something to say to Spencer.

++

singer!reader taglist: @itsleilabxtch @wietske27 @taylorswiftilovecowboylikeme @marshatesthisreality @ladylincoln @delightfulmakerpiegiant @chericherrypie @punksnotdeadbutiam @stillhere197 @laddywitch @httpstoyosi @obi-wansgirl @amandareids @mynameiskelly

let me know if you would like to be added or removed!!

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #dr spencer reid #dr spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #singer!reader

[thinkingotherwise]

can i request umemiya and reader that they are a couple and since he is like the guys big brother she would be like his big sister? ugh, umemiya is so handsome, gentle, sexy, i love him, i fell in love, i need more content about our number 1.

Umemiya making our expectations for partners way too high. The man seems too perfect.

Hajime Umemiya and his girlfriend being the older siblings or maybe something else to Bofurin members

I think that some Bofurin members give off the youngest sibling energy. Guess who?

You loved Hajime, not only because he was smokin' hot and very charming, even though you loved it as well, but also because of his kindness, the playfulness he showed to everybody, and the attentiveness to, as well as, care about others. He just seemed so perfect and you always told him how lucky you felt to be with him.

As time passed and you spent more and more of it with your ideal man and Bofurin, you also got used to them and the unique relationship they shared. They even started calling you their big sister, as Hajime would usually name himself the big bro, and what other name could they call the girlfriend of their leader?

Honestly, you'd need to be the harsher of you two because your boyfriend was just too soft and playful. He'd pamper the "kids", as he did with the first years, and encourage them to use their youth however they want. You, at the same time, were the voice of reason, trying to keep the Bofurin members under control, as the chaos they could sometimes create was a little too much.

When there was trouble and Bofruin was involved, however, Hajime would become a very protective and firm "older brother". A person you can depend on and leave all your troubles to, and you, as his partner, were responsible for keeping him at bay and not letting him get too much hurt.

The family-like relationship between you, your boyfriend, and other members of the school members didn't prevent you from the arguments that arose, thankfully, very rarely. While you were having a heated conversation with Hajime, the present Bofurin members, who observed it would try to ease you up. The best ones at that were the first years, because of their awkward, yet playful comments that just made you stop and look at them not believing the words that left their mouths.

"You two always argue like an old married couple." Suou commented loud enough so you could hear him and stop your argument. It did work and you turned to him but he was far from done and continued with a wide grin on his face. "Do you plan to adopt all of us in the future, I think some wouldn't mind it." "The parents are arguing again, what shall we do?" Kiryu joined in on the fun.

You felt your heart beating faster at their teasing getting easily flustered. In the hopes of stopping that, your gaze moved to Hajime who wore a matching grin like the first years, already forgetting about the argument he had with you. "Well, I wouldn't mind marrying her one day. I'm sure (Y/n) would make a great wife." He commented smiling lovingly at you already imagining the life he could have with you. "You're getting married?!" Sakura asked loudly getting the attention of other Bofurin members nearby.

That included Hiiragi, who the moment those words left the first year's mouth bent in half feeling the ache in his stomach coming back. He had enough of their shenanigans and slowly walked away to sit somewhere else and calm down. As well as, Sugeshita, who turned with wide eyes to look at the leader in betrayal. How could he not tell him that he was getting married, before telling Sakura ?

The whole misunderstanding made you embarrassed and when you saw how much joy it brought Hajime you smacked his arm repeatedly trying to unload the feeling on him. He just laughed loudly and embraced you keeping you close to him. "Stop it, it's not funny. Sakura, Kiryuu, and Suou you're in so much trouble when I get you!" You called to them trying to push away from the tight embrace but it was impossible. "Well, hopefully, one day she'll be Umemiya." Hajime said and looked at you with his big loving eyes and you just couldn't take it. You scrunched your face before hiding it in his shoulder and slapping his biceps twice. You gave in to your fate letting him hug you and shower in love.

Tags: @misticbullet

#wind breaker (satoru nii) #wind breaker (satoru nii) x reader #wind breaker #wind breaker x reader #hajime umemiya x reader

[starshinegarcia]

hi!!! Can you do Spencer x fem reader where she is not a part of the BAU but is Spencer's gf and no one on the team knows but they have their suspicions. Then one day he forgot his lunch so she decides to bring it to him at work and everyone is so shocked that he has a gf and they tease Spencer bc he's so infatuated with her and they are so in love!

I love this idea so much!! requested Spencer x Reader oneshot- my first time writing Spencer! feedback appreciated as always! __ stands for Y/N! hope i did it justice! thanks so much for the request lovely 💗

Isn’t it just so pretty to think..

The sun peeked in at you through a crack in the cream colored curtains, a trick of the light casting shadows on your freckled back as you dozed off- again. The slow beeping of your alarm clock came into earshot once again, and you begrudgingly unlocked your phone, trudging across the apartment to take a picture of the fridge (it was the only way to shut your alarm off, Spencer had figured out your sleep habits.) Slowly padding back to your bedroom, you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes, blinking as you examined Spencer’s side of the bed. Wait. You twirled around, doing a double take as your eyes focused on the blue lunch bag sitting on the counter. Spencer had forgotten his lunch, the one you had packed for him the night before, like you always did.

The love note peeked out at you in the front pocket, an extra reminder to you as you grabbed your phone. Scrolling through a few texts from Spencer from earlier in the morning, you dialed his number, chewing on your lip as it rang. “Good morning, sunshine.” “Spencie, you forgot your lunch.” You heard your boyfriend sigh on the other line, imagining him rubbing his temples. “So much for that eidetic memory, huh? I’m sorry, baby, put it back in the fridge, okay? I’ll order something for today.” You shook your head, but refrain from arguing audibly as an idea sprang into your head. “Baby?” “Just wait there, okay Spence?” “__, sweetheart, what-” “No time to talk! Bye!” Giggling, you DID place the lunch back in the fridge as he had asked, dashing back to the bedroom and shutting the door with a spin.

Spencer had, undoubtedly, been in a rush that morning, having stayed in bed with you a few more minutes then time allowed for. He ended up not being late, and even if he had been he would never sacrifice that time with you, not for the BAU, not for the world. You had been dating for half a year now, but you had been in his life for much longer before that- hence you two moving in relatively quickly. The team obviously had their suspicions, but no formal introduction had taken place- but Spencer was left completely clueless that morning as you hung up the phone, smiling and going back to his files with a loving shake of his head.

So, come lunchtime, the last thing he was expecting was your scent wafting through the office, his ears picking up on the jingling of your bracelets and suddenly feeling slightly crazy. But no, there you were, bouncing up to him with a visitor badge pinned to your blouse, your guy’s favorite Chinese takeout cradled in her hands.

“Hi, babe.” You set the food down on his desk, perching yourself on his desk. “What are you doing here, sunshine?” “Well, I have a shoot later downtown, and, I figured you might want some lunch- free delivery, of course.” Spencer chuckles, taking you in- you were wearing a light blue blouse over a darker blue skirt- two of his favorite colors, though anything looked good on you. “You shouldn’t have. You look stunning, though. I can’t wait to see those pictures later.” You giggle, swinging your legs and reaching out a hand to smooth his curls down. Spencer clears his throat, and you glance up to see the entire BAU staring at you.

The rest of the office watched in awe as you came in, then with even more surprise as you beelined it to Spencer’s desk. JJ whipped a fashion magazine out of seemingly thin-air, pointing to a woman on the front cover. “She is quite literally the top plus sized model in the US right now.” “You’re telling me that Spencer is dating HER?” Garcia burst out in a fit of giggles, “I told you guys, big girls are the way to go!” while Derek shook his head with a smile. “Pretty boy pulls a model. Who knew?” Emily swiveled around to face them, shaking her head. “She looks different than the magazine, though. She looks smart, and look at the way he’s looking at her. Reid wouldn’t date someone without depth.”

Becoming aware of everyone’s eyes on you, you look to your boyfriend for an answer, getting a nod and gentle smile in return. You hop up off his desk, smoothing your skirt down and waving shyly. “Uh, hi, everyone! I’m __, it’s really nice to finally meet you guys, Spencer has told me so much about you and I’m really glad to finally be putting a face to the name and I’m-” “Baby, breathe.” The team stifles a laugh, the resemblance between your rants and Spencer’s tangents clear. You flush. “Anyway. I brought enough food for all, if you guys want? Penelope, I um, got some vegetarian stuff for you, as well.” Garcia, the woman that she is, wraps you in a tight hug, and you laugh, appreciating her silent invitation into the group.

Seated at the round table, everyone passes food around, settling down eventually and eating off of paper plates Rossi had dug up somewhere. Chatter fills the table, and the door abruptly opens as Hotch enters the briefing room. Everyone freezes, and you drop your fork startlingly loudly as his eyes find you. Rossi starts, “Aaron, we were just-” Hotch holds up his hand, cracking a smile as he motions to shake your hand. “You must be Spencer’s girlfriend. I had a feeling we’d be meeting you soon. __, is it?” You blink, standing up and letting out a sigh of relief, eyes twinkling as he winks at Spencer and starts to pull up a chair.

As the lunch hour came to a natural close, Spencer pulled you close as you leaned on his shoulder. Pressing a kiss to the side of your head,Garcia gazes at you two from the bullpen. “They are so freaking cute, I could cry.” Everyone laughs, but silently agrees, happy to know their youngest and most troubled colleague had found someone. Back in the office, you glance at your bedazzled watch and sigh.“I need to get going, baby, my shoot starts in half an hour.” Spencer groans, tugging on your arm as you start to stand up and gather your things. You laugh, rubbing his hand with your thumb. “I’ll see you at home, Spencie.” He nods, pulling you into a kiss and resting his forehead against yours. “I’ll be looking forward to that PB&J tomorrow, sweetheart.”

All along there was some invisible string, tying you to me..

Tags: @discotitsposts @ilikw

Comment 🦋 to be added to my tag list!! :)

#criminal minds #bau team #spencer reid #fanfiction #ems inbox #em writes #criminal minds fic #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #model gf #aaron hotchner #criminal minds hotch #cm fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds incorrect #matthew gray gubler

[1800titz]

HI BESTIES. Trivia!Harry x Shy!Reader part 1 ((based on THIS post))

The one where Harry hosts trivia at a small town bar every Thursday and Y/N just can’t seem to shut up.

WC: 3.6K

This is part one of a patreon exclusive series — the rest will only be accessible through my patreon. You can already find part 2 up on my patreon (✿◠‿◠)

She takes a long drink. It tastes like kismet and carbonated nothingness.

“Alright, alright, alright.”

Smooth baritone into the bulbous head of a microphone, hovering millimeters from pink, plush borders of a mouth. It seeps through the meshed grill caging it like molasses slinking the gaps. The lively chatter dulls as heads turn, and then swells in eager increments. 

“Alright,” he says, a set of green eyes flickering from the monitor he’s settled over a rejigged high top, and bounding sharply to whoever’s just given an overly enthusiastic cry of yes from the horde surrounding the portable four-by-eight platform.  

A peal of sparse, scattered laughter. His mouth quirks.

“Very enthusiastic today. Hello to you, as well. I’m well. How are you?” 

His cresting eyes bound from the glowy screen, casting light and carving shadow over the sultry features of his visage; an evenly straight slope of a nose, cheekbones feathered by long lashes, a bit of curl that traipses over his forehead. 

His chin swivels to his left, somewhere closer to the platform where a woman leans over the high top — her designated team — the corners of his lips curling in response to whatever he’s said. Face alive, he nods. He tips his chin. Makes a creased face like something playful. Says something else, laughs softly, and turns back, shaking his head. 

Y/N tucks the straw in and takes another slow sip.  

He brings the mic back to the ruddy stain of his lips. 

“Hope everyone’s having a lovely Thursday. M’Harry, I’ll be leading the trivia— as I do— so if you’re sitting there going, who is this obnoxious cock, talking into the mic the whole night? Hi, Hello. That’s me— I do trivia.”

Harry is fit. 

At first, Y/N had been dubious to desert her romcom reruns and her cross-stitch project mid-way (despite the fact that her thumb now resembles a pin cushion) when her friends had swept her off into their regularly scheduled, mysteriously niche Thursday night schemes. Now, she gets it. 

The destination — The Black Horse — is a fuggy little space that smells like spilt Michelob and fusty, weathered oak. There’s a no smoking sign pasted in a spare crevice of the backbar, but someone in the far right corner exhales a plume of vapor like they’ve hit their elfbar in the most clandestine manner imaginable. Shamelessly. It’s a small town — an islet in the heart of an archipelago — and she thinks she can make out her seventh grade swim team rival perched somewhere off in the front row. 

The Black Horse is nothing special. It sells cheap draughts by the pitcher and parallels a barbershop in the crux of the town, two blocks off the boardwalk, which is arguably the chiseled, shiny musgravite of Treah’s core — a roaring green sea that eats away at the borders of the isle, shrouding vibrantly hued cays, glimmering under the beam of the sun. The majority of the holm’s economy is dependent on tourism (a simultaneous bane — said tourists enjoy uprooting foliage, building infrastructures, and partaking in chunks of housing buyouts), but Y/N can tell that The Black Horse has been …preserved to say the least. It’s four stone walls sewn into a plaza with three other natively owned businesses and looks like something straight out of a cinematic piece set in a rural village, planted into Treah long before Y/N had her first wiggly tooth. 

The Black Horse isn’t what makes attendance worth it. It’s him—

“We’ve got a crowd tonight. If you haven’t played trivia with me here at The Black Horse before, welcome. S’a little different than your typical trivia, though, because it’s…”

The throng hollers back, as if scripted, “Dirty trivia!” 

“Dirty Trivia,” Harry parrots, all cheeky dimples, “Right, Dirty Trivia. This one’s rated R, so if you’re not old enough to be here, I dunno how you got here, but this is going to be your cue to head out. Any— any children in here tonight? …No? Wonderful.” 

He huffs into the mic, shaking his head and jostling his halo of curls. A jaundiced, warm beam catches on them. “I know that sounds ridiculous, but m’not even joking— a couple of weeks ago someone was sitting in here with, like, a little kid.” 

It’s Harry, with the divots burrowing into his cheeks, the croon into the mic, lighting the crowd alive on an introduction. 

Y/N crosses her legs. Her friend raises her eyebrows from across the teak table top and says it with her eyes. Told you so; Trivia Man is a cream dream. 

“Yeah,” Harry confirms over the scattered, appalled eruption of laughter, nodding down at someone seated at a table closer to the stage, “I was, like, …shit,” he blinks back up and motions out, a slow sweep with his free hand, “Friendly reminder, this is not a form of sex ed.” 

Pausing, mouth twitchy over the sown mirth, he brings the microphone back with a newfound seriousness and tacks on, nodding slowly, “…That kid won it for the whole team.” 

The seam of his mouth lopsidedly spalls, “No, m’joking,” and he clears his throat. “M’gonna pass out a sheet and some little note pads for your answers,” Harry explains, “You’re gonna use one of those little notes to jot down a clever team name, do the same in that team name spot of the sheet, and then pass the note up to me.”

Pussy Posse. A pre-established moniker Y/N has had no jurisdiction over, merely perched as an addition to a settled cadre. Still, she gnaws into her cheek when she watches a friend beside her scribble in the title with a ballpoint. 

“I’ll be coming around between questions to pick those answers up, have a chat, whatever. We’re all here to have fun, yes?” 

She swears he sweeps her with his eyes, like a passing tide gliding the sea. Probably just the way the green in his sockets meets everyone else in the throng, but the moment it happens her molars chew in harder.

“On the topic of fun, let’s keep it nice and fair, yeah? Phones put away— no cheating— you’ll have plenty of time to check those when we have our break midway.”

It feels ignoble to eye-fuck him from behind the sheathes of her empty irises as he paces the stage — after all, this is just a wholesomely clad, virtuously upstanding guy leading trivia, but. The gears behind her skull are mottled with cerebrospinal fluid and sticky in a goop of thoughtless ogling that renders her head empty. Even when he makes his way to the bar-height table her team curls around, when his eyes linger on her — “A new face.” — Y/N just mindlessly stares. 

Dirty trivia, she learns, is dirty.

It hits her when Harry quips (dare she note, mischievously), “Hoo-hoo-hoo. Starting off strong with the first one.” 

He states, talc flickering from the LED display ahead to the bevy of trivia-players, “What country,” and pauses for emphasis, “has—“ pits grub at the smooth of his cheeks beside the upturned corners of a pink-bordered mouth splintering, “the highest average, in the world, for penis size?” 

There’s no source of entertainment like that of trivia held, on a Thursday, on a remote islet, in a poky bar that smells like stale beer and dust-coated, chipping leather. Evidently. 

“I actually don’t know this one,” Harry chimes, raising a wry shoulder, “So it’s trivia for me, as well.” 

“England,” Marina stamps a blow that the teak hasn’t warranted, whisper-shouting over the staggering peals of guffaw and chatter, “He’s hung, I bet you.”

“He’s not going to fuck you for writing in England,” Beth’s chortles clash with Y/N’s scorned, “Marina.”

“That’s not even an answer,” Bee waves towards the flatscreen framed over the man’s head

Senegal, Haiti, Ecuador, and Gambia. 

“Where the fuck is Gambia—”

They settle on Gambia. 

Y/N watches Beth scribble it in and dot the i with an open sphere whose edges don’t meet. When Harry winds the rows of tables, plucking answer cards and making small-talk, Y/N stares into her mug ruddy-faced, brain-rotted with the insinuation of him being …hung.

“Lots of Haiti, lots of Senegal,” Harry states, mouth twitchy once he’s smoothed the cards out with his colossal, ringed paws, and looked them over. 

She stares at the bob of his throat as he swallows, directing the mic back to his lips.

“Big reveal?” He pauses, as if for cataclysmic emphasis, riling the crowd enough for Y/N to note restive shoulders and juddering feet. 

“Patience,” Harry says softly into the microphone, raising his eyebrows. 

Y/N squishes the plush of her thighs together. 

Then, with paltry warning, he reveals, “Ecuador! At,” squinting at the blue-toned LED, “—a whopping 6-point-nine-three. Solid for the average. Do we have any Ecuadorian men in the audience tonight? Anybody who’s added to that average? Congratulations. You beat us. You beat everyone.” 

There’s an amalgamation of responses, some ripostes flung amongst tables, some bouts of clapping, hollering over the rows, sloshing mugs raised in triumph. 

Harry’s deltoids climb in a shrug, and his head wags from side to side, “Some valiant contenders, those Ecuadorians.” 

“I told you it wasn’t Gambia—“

Y/N ogles the way Harry tilts over the platform towards a table, brows kinked as if trying to pick up something audible he’d missed. In her peripherals, Marina prods into Beth’s direction with a palmful of something claret in a pellucid martini glass. 

“What was that?” Harry coaxes into the microphone. 

The corners of his mouth have caved up, and by the time the majority of the trivia-players sink into a piqued lull, he’s slanted over toward the table. A brunette with long, shiny hair arches up out of her seat into her directions, braced to the teak high-top with planted, elbow-locked arms. 

“Where do you fall?” is undeniable the second time. 

Harry blinks. His mouth paints over with a smile. 

“Where do I fall?”

He blatantly bridles a sputter when he winds toward the laptop he’s set up, culls his glass of a golden, pale straw beer that’s lost its layer of foam, and takes a long drink. 

Harry clears his throat. “Wouldn’t you like to know. Very forward. Take me out to dinner first.” 

Y/N discovers that, despite the ubiquitously crude sexualizing, Harry is sort of like a bird. Pavo cristatus, preening with its neatly arranged plume — he likes it. The flattery. His tongue peeks out and swipes over his lips as he stares down at the screen. Little dimples pit when it tucks back in — ones he blatantly can’t contain. 

He chuckles and states into the microphone, “…Below. Don’t worry about it.” 

Somehow, Y/N doubts it. 

Y/N plaits herself into the Thursday Fawn Sessions as a regular attendee, curling up at the same high top to ogle the same man pace a platform with a microphone to make jesting comments and ask things like, “Axillism is the act of using what strange body part during sex?” 

She finds herself learning a thing or two from each session, and she finds that the emeralds seated in his sockets linger on this absolute clam shell taking up a spot in the bar and chugging fizzy water (that ogles his frame in lull every time he approaches her table), too. Pussy Posse is no good at the trivia, more often than not wheedling in second-to-last, but they find themselves much too entertained to mind. 

Franks is a rather self-explanatory hot dog cart. It stands midway on the boardwalk and operates through sunny mizzles and borderline hurricane cloudbursts, when the green salt chuck is choppy. High tiding. Those are the days Y/N stands out in her jaundiced poncho, salty rain spittle beating at her cheeks, and watches the waves eat at the ipe in a nasty, wet hunger, no customers in sight. 

Midsummer afternoons, though, are good. Busy. When Treah morphs industrious and bustling — tourists like Franks on the boardwalk. 

It’s a slow coda for June. The sea is planate, swaying over steel supports mantled by barnacles. Gulls chortle, gliding low in the ether — it oozes yellow and something balmy like the goo of an egg yolk. She’s sold two hot dogs, tallied three joggers (one eager speedwalker), and noted one couple pushing a baby in a stroller, who offered tight-lipped smiles and veganism. She doesn’t entirely mind a slow day, because setting shop on the boardwalk means spending the day on the boardwalk. Breathing the sea until her lungs are full of salt and her eardrums reverberate the crash of the water behind her skull. She tastes it at the back of her throat — something like home as home could get.  

There’s another jogger loping — a moving blip of skin color in chiaroscuro against wood paneling. In the distance. Drawing closer. She imagines him passing the cart, the soles of his trainers padding over the row of planks until he’s just another form of lines and shading, faced away. She checks her phone. 

The jogger is still a good bit away. Y/N swipes open Wordle. She’s on her third attempt of elucidating something that goes blank, I, blank, E, blank (with a P that doesn’t quite fit where she’s slotted it)—

“Hi.”

Her eyes crest. 

Treah is a really small town. Not in a prudishly, bible-bashing form of a pastoral village, sheathed in a bosky, wooded moat of thicket and then plains of nothingness for hundreds of miles. But it is an island enveloped by the sea from all sides, sequestered without a boat or a little plane, whose wheels bumpily kiss the asphalt of anearly comically small airport. Even the tourists lodging up in their summer homes, all the same months like annual clockwork, make reappearances. The faces are, nearly always, the same, and she sees the same faces often. It was only a (limited) matter of time before they coalesced beyond the borders skirting The Black Horse. In hindsight, Y/N didn’t envisage that she’d be wearing a baseball cap emblematized with a weenie when it happened. Or that his tits would be out and about. 

“Have you got water?”

He’s panting. Casually slippery; coated in sweat that glimmers in the sun and carves the well-toned sinews of his torso, with sunglasses tucked up over his curls like a makeshift headband. He ogles expectantly with a set of jade that puts the hues of the lapping, green sea behind him to shame. A parted mouth, sculpted and cushiony, sucks in breaths from the liminal space divvying their atoms while her own become clogged, somewhere midway an esophageal prison, in limbo toward her lungs. A shaded lepidoptera scored over his tummy flutters, batting its wings in the swell and sink of his diaphragm expanding. 

His shorts are teeny. Tiny, little things. Cobalt. Mirroring laurels carving alongside his V-line peek from the waistband, and a happy trail climbs to kiss his navel. 

Y/N blinks. “Yes. Yeah. We do. Yes. …Is bottled okay?” 

“Bottled is perfect.”

He sticks a hand into his pocket, the emeralds in his sockets flickering to her face, and away, and back. Slow-like. She traces the wisps in the sky with her eyes, heat searing up her neck and pooling in the flesh of her face. It’s a sudden, unforeseen stuffiness sweltering for such a beautiful day. Y/N recognizes her horrid blunder in his next words. 

“Do I know you from somewhere?” 

She should have ducked her chin, tucked the visor lower, and hoped for the best. Instead, now, she blinks, dazed and wide-eyed like a Red brocket saturated by blinding headlights.  

“Oh. I’m not sure. Um. Small …town— maybe?” 

“You come to, uh—“ a nudge with his chin in her direction as Y/N arduously regulates the stuttery pace of her respiration. The jitter in her digits, like a lovesick school girl. She caches them behind the cart and lets them judder. “—trivia nights. At The Black Horse, yeah? I couldn’t forget a face like yours.” 

Harry grins, the way he does. Lopsided, so the left corner turns up a little higher — dimpled with a long flash of teeth. Except now, he’s slippery and half-naked. 

Folie. Miscalculated gaffe in a weenie cap. She smiles all tight. 

“Oh—“ again, “…Yeah.” 

“Right,” Harry nods. Smiley. Lingering, looking her over. He buries an enormous hand back into his pocket then, brows creasing like he’s remembered something, and pulls out a little rectangle in cardboard paper. “Hey, actually. I’ve got this coupon here. S’what I do all the other days of the week, ah—“

He extends it out. 

Harve-y a free drink, on us! 

“M’a bartender over at Harvey’s. S’close to The Black Horse, if you’re in that area. Monday and Saturday mornings. Wednesday and Friday nights. If you come by, I’ll fix you up with a drink.” 

It feels impolite to leave him hanging, so she swipes out at the offering, cradling it with slow fingertips. 

“We can do some one on one trivia. Train you up,” Harry tacks on.

Y/N swallows. Harry is an attractive man. His allure is apodictic — a sort of conventional, objective quality that leaves her throat parched when it becomes paired with his unfaltering eye contact. She’s not a virgin, and she’s an adept swimmer, but his presence feels like viridian saltwater that’s waiting to swallow her whole. The nerves that bubble, a fizz of chagrin, remind her why exactly she enjoys fawning from a distance. Because he makes her feel nervous, and when she’s nervous, the dialogue spumes like miasmic word vomit. 

He’s got a thin sheathe of sweat that glimmers in the seat of his cupid’s bow, but it’s not in a gross way. In fact, it reminds her that the rest of him, his denuded skin, is slick, because he’s been jogging along the boardwalk. It reminds her how hard it is not to openly ogle the tattoos he’s got on show. She should have called out from her weenie gig, and she should have refilled her alprazolam prescription weeks ago. 

“Oh,” she tells him, slowly, face creasing, “I don’t— I don’t drink.”

Harry blinks. It’s a weird confession considering she’s a Thursday night regular at a bar that’s really only good for anything that has enough alcohol to shroud the stale taste. Still, nothing beyond open expectancy erupts along his features, and that’s worse. She feels them crawling up her throat, clambering up the back of her tongue like the words have knobby joints. They meet the backs of her teeth, waiting to spew. 

“—Not because I’m a recovering alcoholic or anything, I just don’t like the way it makes me feel. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. Or drinking. I actually think it’s so admirable. You know? Like, to be brave… and… and a lot of times those people will attend support groups—“

Harry blinks again. 

“—And they talk about it. I can’t imagine sharing something like that— not that there’s anything wrong with it! But. Um. I always get virgin cocktails at The Black Horse. Or club soda. Or juice.”

Her lips seal over. She entraps the rest behind her traitorous teeth — a drawbridge that never should’ve sunk open. Despite her overly candid, overstated explanation, Y/N doesn’t stick the coupon back out in his direction. She harbors it in her hand, blinking slowly and gnawing into her cheek. 

“…S’okay. We do orange juice, too,” Harry tells her, entirely casual despite her discomfited speech, raising his brows. 

There’s the curbed efforts of a bemusedly mirthy grin at the corners of his mouth, and his nonchalant bearing only makes her face hotter. She feels like she’s broiling under the shade of the awning. 

“And club soda.” 

“…Cool,” Y/N settles on, tightly. 

“Sick.”

“…It’s, uh… two dollars,” she tells him, after a moment. 

Y/N is going to go home and ram her head through a window. 

“Oh,” Harry casts his gaze to the water (it has the average, entirely typical proportions of a water bottle, but in his hand, it’s nearly miniature), as if he’s forgotten the chilly source of condensation coating his palm. That he’s in arrears. He sticks his free hand into the same pocket that’d procured the coupon, “Right. I think I’ve got two dollars in here, somewhere.” 

Instead, when he stretches a bill out towards her, it’s worth ten. Circumventing eye contact, Y/N reaches for the cash box tucked below and pries the lid up to delegate his change. 

“Oh,” Harry echoes, raising his enormous hand in effort of halting her, “S’alright. S’yours.”  

“Oh. I… can’t take tips. It’s, like. Against the code of conduct.” 

“Code of conduct at a …hot dog stand?” 

As if she needed to be reminded that she’s donning a silly cap with an animated frank, standing on a boardwalk that’s practically empty of prospective patrons. The ignominy scores in her tummy and surfaces in the set line of her mouth. 

“…Yes.” 

Harry pauses, brows kinked like he’s ruminating, and then he inhales and decides, “Well. It’s not a tip, yeah? It’s just… you break it up, put two in the box, and then put the rest in your pocket.” 

“Oh. No. You— you’ve already given me the coupon—“ she argues, frenziedly waving out a mismatched wad of cash.

He raises his hands and ambles in one suavely lengthy step back. “I’m going now.” 

“No!” 

He’s three away that would fit five or six of her own gait when he declares, “Yes! I hope to see you for that orange juice. On the house. Have a good one.” 

This is a patreon exclusive series. If you'd like to read more, part 2 is already up on my patreon! <3

#harry styles smut #harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles one shot #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfiction #dom harry styles #harry styles fanfic #harry styles dirty fanfiction #harry styles dirty one shot #harry styles fluff #patreon exclusive #harry styles fic #trivia!harry #trivia au #shy!reader #harry styles x shy!reader

[ashwhowrites]

Hiiii I’m the anon that sent this: Reader gets broken up with by a guy that she actually really liked but in reality this guy was a douchy football player that was rude to her friends (but she didn’t know about that.)

It was meant to be a request if you’d wanna write it!

And id say that Eddie does have a crush on reader.

I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

The friend

Y/N waited years and years to fall in love. She grew up watching princesses find their prince, and she wanted to feel that. She wanted to feel loved by someone who chose to, someone who looked at her and would do anything to be with her. Even if he had to fight everyone to do it. She wanted to see what it felt like to be cared about.

To her, Greg did just that. She was smitten with the jockey football player the second he sent her a dazzling smile during a game. It was like his eyes found hers in the crowd, it was fate.

It didn't take long for him to ask her out and for her to say yes immediately. She was swept off her feet and never landed. He was sweet and romantic. He showered her in love and compliments. She thought he was perfect all around.

Eddie and her friends had other thoughts. Greg was two-faced but Y/N wasn't aware of that. Chrissy hated Greg, and she hated cheering for someone like him. He was selfish, cocky, and an ass. It took a lot for Chrissy to dislike someone, and she hated Greg, that meant something.

Eddie had two reasons to hate Greg. One reason was that Greg never had nice things to say to or about Eddie. Greg believed he was trailer dirt and a freak, just like everyone else. But Y/N didn't know that. The second reason was that Eddie was helplessly in love with Y/N.

Did he have the chance to go for it? Definitely but he was terrified. It was scary enough to tell a girl he liked her, but to tell his best friend? He wasn't sure he could handle the rejection.

Eddie and Chrissy grew closer over their dislike for Greg. Chrissy knew Eddie was in love with their best friend before Eddie realized it. Chrissy never understood how Y/N didn't catch on. Eddie was in no way good at hiding it. He stuttered over sentences, clumsier than ever, smiled the second she looked at him, and he'd do anything she asked.

Once Eddie saw her with Greg, he believed that was his sign that they would never be anything more. Eddie and Greg were two completely different people.

When the news broke out that Y/N and Greg broke up after almost a year together, many people had things to say. But no one would say it to her. Eddie felt relieved that his year of suffering was over. But he knew it was a matter of time before some new guy came along. He wasn't sure he could let that happen.

~~~

"I don't understand why he broke up with me," Y/N sobbed. Her head was in Eddie's chest as she soaked his band tee in her tears.

Eddie softly held her in his arms. His chin was on her head as his fingers ran through her hair.

"I don't either, babes." And he was honest. He couldn't imagine ever breaking up with her. She was easily the best person anyone could be with.

"Do you think it's because I'm not pretty enough?" She sniffled, her head facing him as she pulled back away, letting him search her face for the flaws she believed she had.

Eddie smiled and cleaned off her tears with his thumbs. Her red puffy eyes, wet cheeks, and trembling bottom lip. He couldn't lie to her.

"No. I think even right now you are the most beautiful girl I've ever seen."

Eddie was dead serious. A sense of truth in his eyes as he barely blinked. His voice was deep and low, with no sounds of jokes.

The intensity in his face made her nervous and shy. She dug her head back into his warm chest as she held him tighter.

"He's the idiot who let you go."

~~~

Eddie was patient as his best friend recovered from the breakup. Chrissy and Eddie high-fived behind her back, sharing smiles and looks.

"I heard you and Greg broke up! Congratulations that guy was a di-" Dustin's voice was cut off, replaced with a groan.

Y/N turned around confused, Eddie standing next to Dustin with a smile. Dustin held his arm with a whimper.

"Congratulations? What does that mean?" Y/N pushed further.

Eddie and Chrissy looked at each other, trying to think of a fast lie.

"I know someone who likes you! It's a congrats to him!" Dustin said with a smile as he covered his lie. He looked to Eddie for approval and his smile dropped at the look on his face.

"Who?" Y/N perked up. For once, after a long week of crying, she smiled.

"That's not his place to tell. Why don't we go to lunch?" Eddie said, grabbing Dustin's arm and dragging him down the hall.

"That was weird," Y/N said as she turned to Chrissy.

"Why are you smiling like that?" Y/N asked. Chrissy stood with a huge cheesy grin.

Chrissy snapped out of her daydream of Eddie and Y/N finally together. Quick with a lie.

"It's good to see you smile again, now let's go eat."

~~~

Another week passed. Two weeks since her heart was shattered but she could feel herself healing. She had to thank Eddie for all of it. He was always there, holding her as she cried and talking her through everything.

Her mind was still thinking about who Dustin was talking about. The idea of a guy liking her made her feel less insecure. Maybe Greg was the problem and not her. She drew blanks as she tried to think who it was.

She hoped it was Eddie, but that felt like throwing wishes in an empty fountain. She was nowhere Eddie's type. She wasn't edgy enough or listened to the same music he did. She barely understood Hellfire and his ideas. He wasn't much of her type either, but there was something about him that she would never find anywhere else. He was one of a kind and she figured that's why she fell for him so hard.

Eddie never made moves, so she figured he didn't like her. That's why she had no problem going out with Greg. She thought maybe if Eddie showed jealousy, she'd have her answer. But he was just the same, nothing changed.

She was staring at the wall as Eddie woke up from his sleep. His tired eyes took her in. He had his arms around her already, he pressed his chest against her back tighter. She felt her body get warm as his arms squeezed her against him and his face snuggled into her neck. The soft breaths of his nose hitting her skin, his warm body against hers. Do all best friends cuddle in the same bed?

"How long have you been awake?" His deep and tired voice made her bite her lip. She wiggled in his arms, he loosened them as she turned around to face him. She kept herself in his arms, snuggling closer until she was nose to nose-with him.

"I never fell asleep," she whispered

The moon shined into the room, reminding her she had been trying to sleep for hours.

"How come?" He asked, his palm flat against her back as he softly rubbed the bare skin as her tank top slid up. She shivered as his hands touched her skin.

"A lot on my mind," she said truthfully. She admired his eyes. No matter how many times she looked into them, the brown continued to take her breath away. She took in the rest of his face. The bridge of his nose, the red lips she craved to taste. The slight hair growing above his lip, she knew he'd shave in the morning, but she loved being the only one who got to see it. His frizzy hair spread out on her pillows.

"Greg?" Eddie asked, admiring her face the same way she was with his.

"No," Y/N said, "about who that guy is Dustin brought up." She nervously bit her lip as she watched Eddie's reaction.

"Oh, how come?" Eddie asked, he hid his nervousness with a yawn

"Do you know who it is?"

"Uh no," Eddie said his eyes looking elsewhere

"Then why are you looking away?" Y/N smiled, she poked his cheek

He nervously laughed

"I don't know who he is," Eddie said, looking into her eyes as he finished the sentence.

"Such a bad liar! tell me," she squealed excitedly. He groaned as she left his arms. Sitting up, she looked down at him.

"Why do you want to know so bad? Are you ready to move on?" Eddie asked, maybe this was an opening.

"I don't know. Feels nice to know someone else likes me. And depending on who it is, I think I'm ready to give it a shot." She shrugged

"I can't say who it is, but I'll give you some hints." Y/N smiled as Eddie sat up.

"He has dark hair and dark eyes, he admires your beauty. He likes how smart and creative you are. He loves it when you laugh, it makes his heart race. He smiles whenever he thinks of you. And he's been dealing with these feelings for years." Eddie said, too lost in his confession that he was scared he gave too much away.

"So you are close friends with him?" Y/N asked, she turned her head in confusion. She would not believe that any of Eddie's friends had a crush on her.

"I think I said too much," Eddie chuckled nervously and laid back down. His head hit the pillow and he closed his eyes. "Let's go back to sleep."

Y/N thought in silence for a few seconds. She thought long and hard about what he said. The guy he described matched his appearance. Eddie always complimented her looks and laughed at all her jokes. He seemed nervous to talk about the guy, scared he said too much, which meant he was worried she would find it out. He dragged Dustin away when he brought it up, which told her he was worried Dustin would spill the beans.

"Y/N?" Eddie asked, cracking open one eye

It was Eddie

Eddie had a crush on her!

"Y/N" Eddie said again, both eyes open as he went to sit up

But Y/N pushed his body right back down as her lips smashed on his. Eddie's eyes widened in shock as her lips moved against his. Her hands were on his shoulders as she leaned down.

After his shock, he kissed her back. His hands reached up and held her hips. Their kiss grew deeper as Y/N straddled his lap. He sat up, lips still attached to hers. He moved on hand up to her head and pushed her head further into the kiss.

Y/N felt every part of her body light up with electricity. Her hands moved into his hair. Something she spent years wanting to do. His lips tasted better than she imagined. He was soft but controlling. It made her head spin.

Eddie pulled away, his eyes heavy in lust.

"That was...wow." Eddie breathed out, he blinked a thousand times. Believing if he blinked hard enough, this moment would vanish. But to his luck and prayers, she was still on his lap.

"You are the friend," she said, breathy as she still waited for air to return to her lungs

"Uh yeah," Eddie nodded

"Thank god," she smiled before her lips smashed into his again.

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger @arlx @ineedmentalhelp123

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie stranger things #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson request #eddie munson fluff x reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson angst x reader #ashwhowrites

[skywalkerslvt]

Phone Sex With Leon

❥Pairing: RE2!Leon x F!Reader

❥Summary: Leon feels needy while out on patrol so he calls reader and they have phone sex

❥CW: 18+, smut, phone sex, mutual masturbation, sorta sub!leon, dirty talk, pet names

❥a/n: very rushed leon fic! not proofread. 1.3k words. hope you enjoy <3

Leon sat inside his patrol car, the leather seat cool against his back as he scanned the empty streets of Racoon City. It had been a quiet night, the kind that made the hours drag on. He glanced at the clock on the dashboard, the green digits reading 10:26 PM. His thoughts wandered to you, imagining you getting ready for bed at home. 

You'd be in bed by now, probably reading or scrolling on your phone if you weren't already asleep. He missed you, even though it had only been a few hours since he last saw you, your hair smelling faintly of lavender shampoo as he held you close, hand perfectly moulded to your waist. He dreaded the moment he had to pull away, walking out the door and into his patrol car. Leon never considered himself the needy type, but something about you drove him wild. The bond between you two was strong, a comforting constant in the chaos of his life. He just needed to be near you all the time, whether he was next to you, on top of you, under you, inside of you…

Unable to resist the urge to hear your voice, he pulled out his phone and found your contact. As the phone rang, he imagined you reaching for the phone, a sleepy smile on your face. When you answered, your voice was soft and warm, already filling the you-shaped hole in Leon’s heart. 

“Hey, you,” Leon said, a smile in his voice despite the late hour. “Did I wake you?” 

“No I, just put my pyjamas on,” you replied. “How's your night?” 

“Quiet,” he said, glancing out at the empty streets. “Which pyjamas? The ones I like?” His tone turned playful, a hint of mischief in his voice. 

“Maybe,” you replied, your tone matching his. “You'll just have to come home and find out.”

Leon chuckled softly, the sultry sound of your voice sending a wave of arousal through Leon’s gut. God, it really didn't take much from you to turn him on. 

“I wish I could,” he replied, aching to see you, to touch you. 

“Yeah? What would you do if you were here right now?” you inquired, voice low with arousal. 

“I…I’d touch you,” Leon admitted, voice shaky with desire as he fought to control the growing heat in his body. His hand moved of its own accord, inching towards his quickly hardening cock. “Make you feel so good,” he continued with a whine, his breath hitching as he began palming himself over his uniform pants. The sensation sent a jolt of pleasure through him, not being able to focus on anything but the thought of your soft body as his hips involuntarily jolted upwards. 

He hears you tsk on the other end of the line. “Leon,” you chided, your voice laced with amusement and arousal, “you're not being specific enough.” The sound of your voice, so confident and enticing, made him ache for you even harder. He could picture the playful smirk on your lips as you teased him. 

With a shaky exhale, Leon gathered his thoughts, his mind clouded with desire. “W-wanna get on my knees and taste you. Make you scream my name,” he said with a moan, hand still working himself through the fabric. He closed his eyes, imagining the way your body would respond to his tongue, the way you'd arch into his mouth, hands pulling at his hair while you told him what a good boy he was. 

Lost in the haze of desire, Leon could almost taste the intoxicating blend of your arousal, the thought driving him to the brink of madness with longing. He longed to fulfil every fantasy, every desire, until you were both consumed by your overwhelming need for each other. 

As Leon described his fantasies, your own arousal surged, driving you to new heights of desire. With each word he uttered, you could feel the heat pooling between your thighs, your body responding eagerly to his filthy mouth. 

Unable to hold back any longer, you slip your hand beneath your silky sleep shorts, slowly beginning to circle your clit. “Oh God, Leon,” you moaned, the sound breathless with need. “I want that. Want you.” Your words were a desperate plea, aching for the fulfilment of his fantasies. 

As your words fueled his desire, Leon's own need became nearly unbearable. With a shaky breath, he unzipped his pants, freeing his cock from its confines, the sensation sending a jolt of pleasure through him. He could hear the wet sounds of your cunt through the phone, and he began stroking himself in earnest, his movements becoming more desperate with each passing moment. 

“I-I'm yours, baby,” he whimpered, his voice strained with desire. “Do whatever you want to me. Im y-yours to use…” His admission was met with a chorus of your own moans, driving him further into a frenzy of need. 

With each stroke he imagined it was your hand, your touch, bringing him closer and closer to the edge. “Fuck,” he gasped, his hips thrusting involuntarily into his hand. “I need you, baby. I need you so fucking bad. Tell me what you want,” He pleaded, his voice rough with need. “Tell me how you want me, and I’ll do anything to make it happen.”

With trembling fingers, you continued working yourself towards that high, matching the rhythm of his strokes with your own. His words hung in the air, thick with anticipation, as he continued to pleasure himself, lost in the whirlwind of sensations. “I need you to fuck me, Leon. I need you now,” you whined, your movements getting sloppier. 

“Oh God, I'm close,” he gasped. His hand moved faster, wet sounds echoing through the car with his sticky pre-cum. As the intensity between them reached its peak, Leon's breath hitched, his strokes becoming more frantic as he approached his climax. With each movement, he could feel the pressure building, the coil of tension tightening in his gut. 

Across the line, your own arousal mirrored his, the sound of your moans and slick cunt mingling with his own. With each passing moment, the intensity of your pleasure grew, until it was almost unbearable in its intensity. 

“Cum for me, Leon,” you whispered, voice thick with desire, your words igniting a fire within him.

With a strangled cry, Leon surrendered to the overwhelming waves of pleasure, his hips and cock twitching as thick sticky ropes of cum coated his hand and uniform. In that moment, he was lost to the world, his senses overwhelmed by the overwhelming waves of pleasure.

As he rode out the aftershocks of his release, Leon could hear your own cries of pleasure through the phone, the wet squelching eventually coming to a halt with your orgasm. 

You both sat there panting for a moment, Leon cleaning himself up and tucking himself back into his pants. “Was that…alright?” Leon asked shyly, wanting to hear your approval. 

A soft chuckle could be heard from the other line. “Alright? That was… perfect, Leon. You're perfect,” you replied softly. 

Before Leon could respond, a crackle sounded through the car, interrupting your moment. It was the sound of the police radio, summoning him back to duty. 

With a reluctant sigh, Leon knew he had to go. “I gotta go,” he said regretfully, his voice tinged with longing. “But we'll continue this at home. I promise.”

There was a soft, sleepy murmur of agreement from your end, filled with understanding and anticipation. With a final exchange of affectionate words and goodbyes, Leon ended the call, his heart already yearning for the moment when he could hold you in his arms once more. 

With a sense of purpose, he shifted the car into gear and drove off into the night, the memory of your shared passion fueling him as he returned to his duties. And as he navigated the streets of Raccoon City, he couldn’t help but smile at the thought of the blissful reunion that awaited them when his shift was over.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x reader smut #leon kennedy smut #resident evil x reader #resident evil fanfiction #sub leon kennedy

[gay-dorito-dust]

hii i just read your kissing the batboys out of the blue and i loved it!! i was thinking that maybe you could one of how they react when they realize they’re in love with the reader? tysm!!

Jason had a feeling that he knew he was in love with you, he had read enough romantic novels to know that what he was feeling was romantic.

He thought of you day and night.

Everything reminded him of you.

He couldn’t wait to be near you, craves it even as his mind raced with all the things that you could do together in his apartment as though you were an already pre-established couple.

He practically ticked off every box imaginable and he knew it but he wasn’t quite sold on this alone until he woke up to you cuddled up into his side, looking as though you belonged there, even tightening your grip on his shirt when he dared to move even in the slightest.

‘Five more minutes.’ You muttered into his neck, causing him to freeze but he was quick to relax and throw his arms over your waist to keep you close.

It was the domesticity of the moment that made Jason realise that he was in love with you, deep unadulterated love. He wanted to spend the rest of his life waking up to you and falling asleep with you in his arms because you fitted together like two missing pieces.

You were what he was missing and he wasn’t going to let you go anytime soon, not when he was brought to realises that he couldn’t live without you, not anymore. Jason swore to himself that he’d protect you no matter what while he finds a way to tell you of his feelings, but until then Jason was more then willing to keep it to himself as to remind himself that he now had someone to fight for.

Dick didn’t know he was in love with you until someone brought it up to him about how often he seemed to bring you up in conversation regardless of its relevancy.

You’ve had a flirty relationship with one another that Dick had lead himself to believe was strictly platonic all the while wanting more at the same time. He wasn’t fond of commitment, it was an issue of his but you made it all the more worth it if it meant he could get the chance to call you his.

‘You sure do talk about them a lot.’ Garth said.

‘Who?’ Dick asked, confused.

‘Them.’ Raven gestures towards you and immeditly sees the way Dick’s eyes practically glowed when they looked at you, she looked over at Gar who saw the exact same thing as she did and was looking at her for confirmation that he wasn’t seeing things. Their wild theory has been proven to not be so wild after all.

‘It’s not my fault they’re an awesome teammate.’ Dick replied as he looked back at Raven and Garth as they looked back at him knowingly.

‘You often talk about them as though you’re in love with them.’ Raven countered.

‘I don’t talk about them like I’m in love,’ Dick laughed before looking over at Garth, ‘do I?’ He asks and Garth hummed. ‘You do. If you like them so much why don’t you ask them out on a date or something?’

Garth’s question stayed with Dick for the rest of the day as he recalled the times where he talked about you nonstop and wanted to smack himself for not seeing it before, he was so hellbent on never committing to something that he didn’t see that he was practically confessing his feelings for you in other ways.

Dick was scared, genuinely scared. So he decided to keep this revelation to himself and hope that one day it would fade away but he knew all too well that he was in too deep for that to be the case. Now he just keeps a tight lip on what he says to certain people in hopes that they don’t go back to you and spill everything.

Dick wanted to tell you himself but he fears that he might bring himself to do it in time.

Tim would be spending time with you when he realised he loved you.

Being with you just felt natural for him as he let you press up against his side as you did your own thing and he did his own on his laptop.

You could both exist in peaceful silence together without it getting awkward and that’s what Tim liked the most about you, he didn’t have to force anything to keep you engaged in anything he liked.

He even liked how you could match his sarcasm at times while also being caring about his well-being and mental health.

‘When was the last time you actually had decent sleep?’ You asked.

‘When did this become an interrogation, and a lacklustre one at that.’ He replied as you raised your brows to look at him. ‘Since you keep thinking it’s fine to neglect your basic human needs, wise ass.’ You told him. ‘keep this up and I’m wouldn’t be surprised to find you passed out on the floor somewhere.’ You add before putting down a glass of water and a plate full of food before leaving the room.

Tim glances over at the water and food and feels a warmth spread throughout him when he saw that you remembered his favourite meal.

Tim could show you anything technical and while you may not understand everything that was being said, it was the fact that you even bothered to continue to listen to him that made him realises that he might be in love with you. Your eyes held intrigue as he went over how his weapons worked, even giving you live demonstrations, but he couldn’t help but feel a little exposed under your gaze, you looked at him as though he was the most interesting person alive and he could feel his cheeks burn.

Tim knew he was in love with you for a long while but it just took that one moment for it to click within him.

#dc imagine #dc x reader #dc x you #dc fanfic #dc fic #dc comics x reader #dc x y/n #dc fanfiction #jason todd imagine #jason todd fluff #jason todd x reader #jason todd imagines #dick grayson x you #dick grayson imagine #dick grayson imagines #dick grayson x reader #dick grayson fluff #nightwing x you #nightwing fluff #nightwing imagines #nightwing imagine #nightwing x reader #red hood x you #red hood imagine #red hood x reader #red hood imagines #tim drake x you #tim drake x reader #tim drake imagine

[uzurakis]

Haii! Can you please write unrequited love w/ Gojo? He slowly starts falling in love w/ reader tho :3!

strange; it's strange how unrequited love can feel like both a burden and a blessing at the same time. for some time, you've harbored feelings for gojo satoru, your charismatic and charming friend who seemed to effortlessly draw people to him like moths to a flame. from the moment you met him, you knew that someone like him could never feel the same way about someone like you. so, you buried your feelings deep within your heart, hiding them away like a precious secret that you could never dare to reveal.

despite your unrequited love, you cherished every moment you spent with gojo. whether it was laughing together over silly jokes or engaging in deep conversations that lingered late into the night, being by his side filled you with a sense of warmth and happiness that you couldn't find anywhere else. and though you longed for more, you resigned yourself to the role of the supportive friend, or if you're being hasty, a special friend. still, just a friend is enough to be a part of his life in whatever capacity you could.

but as time went on, you couldn't help but notice subtle changes in gojo's behavior. his smiles lingered a little longer when he looked at you, and his laughter sounded a little brighter in your presence. there were moments when his gaze would linger on you, as if he were seeing you in a new light, but you brushed them off as wishful thinking, convincing yourself that you were simply imagining things.

"oi, you've been quiet lately," gojo remarks, breaking the silence that has settled between you. his was being gentle, but there's an underlying curiosity that sends a shiver down your spine. "your mouth can't function or something?"

you swallow hard, trying to ignore the way your heart races in your chest. "just lost in thought, i guess," you reply, hoping he won't press further.

but gojo isn't one to let things slide. he turns to you, his gaze searching yours with a depth that makes your breath catch. "hm? about what?" he asks softly, his voice laced with concern.

you hesitate, unsure of how to articulate the storm of emotions raging inside you. "about.."

"about us," you admit, the words falls faster than your mind could comprehend.

his eyebrows shoot up in surprise, and for a moment, you know he's holding back a huge smile. you fear you've said too much. but then his expression softens, and "so? what about us?" he prompts, his eyes never leaving yours.

you take a deep breath, steeling yourself for what comes next. "about.."

"about?"

"don't laugh, okay?"

"hey, i'm not laughing here!"

"how much you mean to me!" you confess, the words tumbling out before you can stop them.

"heh," gojo chuckles a bit as he fidgets your fingers on his lap. "you mean a lot to me too, you know," he murmurs.

your heart skips a beat at his words, a rush of hope flooding through you. could it be possible that he feels the same way about you as you do about him?

"i know i don't say it often enough. more like, i just have happened to realised," he continues, "but i don't know where i'd be without you. you're like… my anchor, keeping me grounded when everything else feels like it's falling apart. damn, i'm actually being poetic."

all this time, you had convinced yourself that gojo could never feel the same way about you, but now, it seems that perhaps you had been wrong.

your thumb brushing gently against his skin, fidgeting back his finger. you try to whisper, "you mean everything to me."

he smiles, a genuine and heartfelt expression that reaches all the way to his blue eyes. "hm, i knew you'd say that," he says softly, leaning in to press a tender kiss against your forehead. "'cause there's something else i kinda need to tell ya."

your heart races in anticipation as you wait for him to continue. could it be possible that he's about to confess his feelings for you?

"i think i'm falling in love with you," he confesses, his words hanging in the air between you like a delicate thread. "i think i am, already."

before you could respond, gojo leans in closer, his lips brushing against yours in a soft and tender kiss. in that moment, all doubts and uncertainties melts away, leaving only the truth of your love for one another.

@uzurakis

#.writing #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo fluff #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru #jjk fanfic #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #satoru x you #jjk satoru #jujutsu kaisen satoru #jujutsu satoru

[grind-pantera]

Noa x Human! Reader Imagines.

A/N : I am a beacon of sin. Likes and reblogs always appreciated. Thanks y'all!! I do have more Imagines if you guys are interested. Please, please let me know!!! Thanks again. Hope y'all enjoy. Fandom: ( Kingdom of the )Planet of the Apes. Pairing: Noa x Human! Reader. Rating: K. ( Fluffy again, some other mentions of Ape Aggression but nothing too bad/vivid. ) ** Does contain spoilers for Kingdom of the Planet of the Apes.

Noa unequivocally staring you down. -Ultimately, how the relationship really started. Noa was definitely a lot more subtle about it in the beginning - not sure how he truly felt about you, about… it. He would sit and pass time by watching, no no… Stalking your movements, how they might have varied from how he or any other Ape would move. The way your legs shaped when you walked, the way your hands grasped at things, the way your eyes laid bare everything he needed to know. Echo’s were so easy to read from expression alone and Noa yearned for that, metaphorically reaching his hands out in some feeble attempt that you would grab. He found himself occasionally mimicking your movements to himself when alone, laughing at how utterly awkward they felt to him. He’d shut his eyes then and think about it a bit more.

-He would intensely stare into your eyes whenever you talked one on one. He kept his gaze on you when around others, but not as intense as it was when he had you all to himself. Green, amber and gold speckled eyes followed the minute details of your face, almost down to the wrinkles around your eyes, only reserved when you blessed him with a smile. Rare, but he enjoyed it none-the-less. He sensed, after doing it a few times, that it made you nervous. Your heart raced - Noa swore he could feel it in his feet and something about that made him swell with pride. He’d boost his chest out, wanting to appear more suitable to you, more appealing, more… more… irresistible if you looked at him. But… Then, you would look away quickly, uttering something under your breath to take the attention away from the tension now obviously swirling around the two of you. Noa… He kept his eyes on you, regardless. Though, now it seemed you weren’t aware he was looking so closely.

-As time went on though, and he developed a more personal relationship with you, it… Changed. Noa couldn’t tell anyone why it did, why his eyes would pierce you so deeply, almost to the point where it felt like they were taking you down, further down than you had ever been and you were drowning in golden flecks surrounded by more shades of green than you could count. It left a burning sensation in the back of your mind, almost like bile. It was noticeable, even meters away from him but you buried it deep inside. Secretly, you liked it. Not-so-secretly, Noa knew that you did. He couldn’t explain why you were always in his line of vision, why he felt the need to make his gaze known to you, known to others… Known to others, he thought to himself. At least… Known to anyone he considered a threat. It just was what it was now.

-There were some shameful stares such as the absolute disintegration of another Ape when Noa caught the two of you together during communal dinner time. Mind you, it wasn’t just yourself and this Ape, named Ale, you were also with Anaya, Soona and Noa’s mother, Dar. But, Noa couldn’t separate that anymore. There was just you. He figured you’d be okay with his friends and mother, no one would bother you, you didn't need to be protected from them. But this familiarity with an Ape outside of his inner circle…? No, no. Noa didn't move from his ponderance, looking between you and this Ape on your left side. The fire roared in front of you, obscuring Noa from your view as you explained to Ale that humans often used utensils to eat if available. Noa saw you sign through the vivid orange fire, ‘Not messy.’

Ale shrugged his shoulders and held up a berry before popping it into his mouth, ‘Easier with hands.’

That made you laugh, but the lurch of Noa towards your new friend at your reaction was… Not as funny and it took Dar to finally get him to stop staring down one of his own, intimidatingly, refusing to break eye contact. Noa’s pupils were absolutely blown away, no trace of green or gold to be found. He was broad chested, and you took note that Noa was pushing himself up to appear bigger, more fierce.

Noa signed too fast for you to understand, too abrasive… Words split themselves here and there. ‘Mine’ you got that, ‘stop’ was another, ‘back off’ maybe… but your analysis was all in vain regardless. The gaze he was giving Ale said it all, at least, it did to you, and you wondered if his friends knew the look. Soona questioned Noa silently, but he didn't bother with an answer. Anaya looked between Noa, you and Dar. And based on Dar’s reaction to it, her ability to stop it, she’d seen it before. Maybe even had it happen with Koro when they were younger. You didn't want to ask, you didn't want to pry… But, you watched in baited silence as Noa stood down and huffed at you before pacing off to the right. He had no idea what came over him, but he did what he felt like he needed.

Noticing your scent. Noa was unsure of the feral feeling that the situation gave him when he noticed it beyond just the scent of an Echo. It was yours. He had to deal with Anaya every so often saying something sarcastically about it, about how different it was and that they’d be able to smell you at least a click away, but Noa always shrugged them off.

Pensively, Noa shut his eyes. He was steadily resting back on his feet, crouching and sitting comfortably on his bent legs. Hunching forward, he grasped the ground with his hands, tangling them into the grass below him. Anaya was right. Your smell was very different from the Apes he was often around. He could point out his mother, a few infants that were following her around, Soona… Drawing a deep breath in, he felt like he was suffocating and his ribcage was expanded as far out as it would go without causing intense discomfort.

There was something different. Something almost intoxicatingly sweet. Disgustingly, Noa thought to himself and let his eyes slide open. He looked down at his hands, having now ripped grass out of the Earth. It was like he had tasted the most delectable berry of all time and now he was lingering in the smell that was left behind on his fingertips. He wanted to grab you, hard. Grab you roughly and pull you against him, never let you go, let his strength come in handy in a way that was outside of climbing. He’d consume all of you if you would allow him, he’d do more than that in fact. He’d let himself sink into you both physically and mentally, throwing away caution. Teeth sinking into fragile skin, minds entangling in a brutal dance. Your sweat pouring into his mouth, escaping onto his taste buds. Thoughts now in his mind, messing Noa up. They weren’t just his anymore, they were also yours. He was morbidly curious just how sweet you must have tasted when the smell alone left him feeling the way he was. He was deathly ill wanting to know what you were thinking.

All things made him bare his teeth for a split second, canines glistening in the setting sunlight. Tossing the grass in his hands down on the ground aggressively, Noa sat up completely, almost barrel chested before throwing his body into gear as he finally moved to pace followed by a quick saunter. He needed to find out where your scent was coming from before he unraveled at the seams.

Hand holding. -Definitely a thing you tended to gravitate towards more than Noa. He often liked to keep his hands free to tinker around if needed or to fix something, it was after all, one of his most favorite things. He knew moments when you liked it, or rather… Needed it. Noa with you would do anything to cause him a surge of pride, and that included holding your hand.

-He was cautious about it at first, not sure how to react when he felt the side of your hand against his own. He had gruffed then, avoiding eye contact and you didn't try again.

-The second happenance was accidental. You had slipped on ice, Noa faster to react than you were and he was right in front of you before you had the chance to even brace your hands in preparation of falling. Swallowing softly at the sudden closeness of him, there was obvious heat that rose in you. “T-Thanks.”

Noa’s shoulders shifted as he helped you stand straight up again, your eyes coming to rest on his shoulders as Noa was just a touch taller than you were. Just a bit taller, but given circumstances, he was very strong. “Very… unbalanced.” He said to you in a deeper voice than he intended.

You nodded in agreement, looking down at your feet and then the trail that Noa wanted to take. It appeared icy regardless, and you were mentally preparing yourself to transverse. “Maybe we should have taken a horse.”

He sighed, the movement very apparent to your gaze as you looked over at him. Without a word, Noa held his right hand out. There was suddenly a lump in your throat. Was he…

“Take.” Noa uttered.

You hesitated, clenching your hands to the point where your fingers were slightly whitened.

“You don’t take, you end up on your---”

It was your turn to be faster than light, heart thundering in your chest wildly at the concept of what he was offering to you. You raised your right hand and grasped at his, almost clapping them together from the velocity you put forward. It was just a cupped hand holding, something you knew he would be semi-comfortable with as there was no strict intimacy. He rounded on his feet, much more balanced than you could ever be and began moving forward once again, careful of where he put his gait and hoped that you were smart enough to follow his exact footsteps. You let him move, your arm out-stretched awkwardly as you hadn’t moved in tandem with him. You needed to move, you mumbled inside of your head. You need to move.

You were frozen. And it only took Noa one more step before he tumbled down, ultimately being brought down by your inability to take any more action. You had pulled him down, by default. Your mouth flew open as he laid flat on his back, hands disconnecting at the fact that he had fallen. “Noa---”

He groaned finally, having taken a second to process what happened. “I gave you my hand to help you and you--”

“I’m so sorry.” There was a small touch of a laugh behind your words as Noa just… Rested. He didn't move aside from putting his hands on his chest, flat palmed almost like he was checking for any damage. The fall itself wasn’t bad, but there was ice speckled all over the ground and he couldn’t tell if he fell on any sharp objects. “Here.” You reciprocated the movement Noa had previously given, holding out your hand to help him up.

‘No.’ He signed at you, eyes squirting to gaze up at you due to the sun now angling right at the two of you.

“Noa---”

He shut his eyes and raised his hand, to the left and then to the right as his fingers grazed yours ever so gently. He allowed you to cup his hand. Admittedly, you were unsure if you were able to lift him on your own, and he must have known that. He must have…

“Shit!” You yelled, being tugged down by Noa. It was obvious he didn't use all his strength to do so, just enough to get you on the ground right next to him. It wasn’t a hard fall like his either, you landed relatively gently next to him but still felt like the air had left your lungs, “Ow.”

“Ow.” He said as well, allowing a moment to look at you next to him. The way your hair splayed out on the icy rock, the slight blush of your face. Noa figured that was from the cold, you had no fur to keep you at least sheltered from the winter winds. The last thing to process for both of you were your hands, now deeply entangled within each other. You could feel the sensation of leather, that must have been how his skin really felt… It was enticing, and you wanted nothing more than to trace the palms of his hands with your delicate hands. There was fur encasing his knuckles, thicker this time of year than it was during the late spring and peak summer… Actually, Noa’s hand almost eclipsed yours completely but you weren’t going to complain as you let your eyes fall shut. You’d get up in a few minutes despite your mind telling you over and over to stay.

#kingdom of the planet of the apes #planet of the apes #noa x human reader #noa x reader #noa #fanfiction #fanfic #emmy writes

[reverieblondie]

Got a short and sweet one for ya! BG3 character(s) of your choice reacting to someone going, "Aw, you two look so cute together! You should date!" and Tav—the object of his/her as of yet unspoken affections—just smiles a little bashfully and says, "Yeah, that would be nice."

Sorry it took me a a minute to get to your ask! I had originally wanted to make them longer by including the dates they would go on, but I just scrapped that idea. Maybe if people are interested I could do that part but it would be after I do some more request. Anyways I hope You enjoy the fluff!

(Astarion, Gale, Halsin , Rolan, Wyll, Zevlor)

Astarion

It's always the same game between you two; since the beginning of your journey together, you two are always teasing and pushing each other closer and closer to the edge. It's frustrating that this game continues still. You two have grown closer, having shared in victories and losses, shared in laughs and tears, but despite all this, you and Astarion remained cautious… Instead of sharing your desire and confessing this connection is real, you opt to continue in your flirtatious game of teasing and keeping yourself at arm's length. Perhaps it's childish, but you both are too accustomed to the game to quit now, not when the risk could be so painful… 

Sipping on your wine, your eyes lock to Astarions, his crimson eyes watching you with a handsome smirk on his pale lips.  

"Are you staring, Astarion, coming to some realizations of the heart?" The smirk widens to a grin that flashes his dangerous fangs. Astarion can't help himself from loving the way you tease… 

"Only imagining how your blood must taste after so much wine."-clever as always in a response. 

"Sounds like you're trying to bite, giving yourself away so easily now?" you muse as you stroll casually to sit at his side, your eyes never leaving each other. 

Carefully, Astarion brushes away your hair from your neck, revealing the bruised mark left by his bite only a night ago. He can't help but lick his lips at the sight, "You're the one who gives themselves away when you ask me to feed from you." You feel your blood rush to your cheeks… He's not entirely wrong. 

Brushing your hair back over your neck, trying to hide the evidence and cover the blooming rush of blood to your face, you two are caught off guard by what sounds like a slurring Shadowheart chiming into your conversation, "Aw, you two look so cute together flirting like that. You two should date already." She says with a devious smirk. 

You roll your eyes. "Yeah, that would be nice," you say sarcastically; that would be the day… 

Astarion studies you for a moment, watching as you roll your eyes and fold your arms to guard yourself further, but he swears he catches a glimpse of something…an opening… Before you know it, you watch him downing the remainder of his wine and taking the game up a notch, "Why not go on a date? Scared after one night alone with me, you will be smitten, darling?" 

You give him a challenging look, "Maybe I will. Maybe you will be the one falling for me…" Astarion leans closer to you, "Sounds like a fun challenge… let's go out tomorrow night…"

Shadowheart can be heard gasping and giggling from the growing tension, never one to be out. Down you down your drink next and lean in close enough for only Astarion to hear you, "Fine, but the first one to fall loses… winner gets to bite the other…" Astarions hands tighten to a fist, and excitement fills his eyes with a new spark; you have yourself a deal. 

Gale

Gale's breath continues to sound shaky, and his hands become more clammy by the second… He's trying so hard to repress the thrumming in his chest, but it's proving to be quite difficult at the moment. With your body pressed so close to him…he thinks at any moment he could burst into a spectacle of himself…or blow up. It has been a while since he's absorbed something, but teaching you this spell is taking precedence now. 

 You have expressed wanting to learn magic from him. You had been intrigued that he attended the prestigious Blackstaff Academy, and despite being a fighter and not relying on magic, you had begged for some lessons from a proper wizard. Gale didn't know if it was the fact that he has always liked to teach or that it was you who was pleading oh so sweetly, but he never answered yes to a request so quickly. 

Now here you two are, the weave wrapped around you as he carefully guides your body to the proper stances, his hands on your hips that then slide to your hands praying to any god that is listening you don't not his clammy nervousness. 

He need not worry, though; the only thing you seem to be able to focus on is the feeling of magic flowing from his fingertips that spark along your skin as he moves your hands. His enchanting voice whispers incantations in your ear, making the tips burn with blush. Gale's lips are so close to your face that all you would have to do is turn your head and give him a look…or even maybe ask him… for a kiss-

 "Aw, you two look so cute together! You shouldn't waste time, Mr. Dekarios; you two should date!" The voice is the unmistakable Tarra, who has recently joined the camp and harps on Gale to shave his beard or settle down practically daily. 

Gale lets out a long groan, causing you to chuckle. The break in concentration causes the magic weave you two worked so hard to conger to break away. Gale, fully embarrassed, starts to argue with her through hissing whispers. All you can do is giggle at the adorable sight of a man arguing with his tressum as he towers over her small form.

"Mr. Dekarios, you're not getting any younger, you know. If she seems to like you even with that thing on your face, might as well go for it." Gale's face is bright red as he tries shushing her. "Tarra, could you lower your voice? I do not need you…helping!" 

Who is he kidding? He could use her nudging him along; it at least helps you finally get what you have been thinking about for a while now. In a surge of confidence, you walk over to the arguing pair, letting your voice break through their bickering: "You know, Tarra, you're right. A date would be nice… If Gale was willing…" 

The argument abruptly pauses, and you watch as Gale's face turns three shades redder. He stares at you blankly, eyes wide in disbelief. It isn't until Tarra swipes his leg that he breaks from his daze. "Don't just stare! Ask Tav out; it might be your only chance before they change their mind from your awkward gawking!"

Gale swallows his dry throat, "Meet you at the library tomorrow?" You smile and nod. "It's a date!"

Gale stands there watching your figure as you walk away…." The library…really?" "Oh shut it, Tarra, I panicked!"  

Halsin

Another accident, and you find yourself being patched up by no other than the camp's gentle druid. Halsins hazel eyes look like golden pools of honey in the firelight, and you're unsure what is heating your body more, the crackling fire or his hands as they wrap your wounded limps. Though he's a huge man and you're not exactly the definition of delicate, Halsin still treats you with softness and light touches; when you first met, you thought he would be loud and crass…but that wasn't Halsin… so full of surprises for you to discover. 

"These accidents keep happening more and more frequently… you're sure you're not just trying to find ways to spend time with me?" you feel your heart stir, and your lips curl into a grin, always so full of surprises… The most recent discovery is his unapologetic flirting… 

"Truly, I am just accident-prone. You healing me is just a perk to my affliction." Halsins eyes flash with something, and his face curls into a smile as he finishes your wrappings. "A perk, huh?" Halsins softly brushes his knuckles against your plush thighs, "I could think of better perks to indulge in if you are willing…" 

Your stomach ties itself in an excited knot; damn, he needs not to tease you; you're surely to pass out to all your blood rushing to your-…as you go to say something else, two giggling voices break your concentration. 

Shadowheart and Astarion have their eyes on you two with broad smiles. "Aw, you two look so cute together…" Astarion coos, then Shadowheart chimes in a second, "You should date..or something to that effect…" You give them a death glare, silently screaming at them not to ruin this moment as Halsin chuckles.  

Hearing Halsins laugh causes your heart to swell, and you can't help but utter your response, "Yeah, that would be nice." That makes his laughing come to a halt,  feeling your face burning in embarrassment you keep your gaze to the ground. 

"Well then…" his large hand lifts your chin, your eyes meeting his, his smile addictive, and then his voice… "Just name the date, and I will be yours." 

Lost in the moment your brain evaporates from rational thought to pure desire, "How about right now…"

"Cheeky!" Astarion calls but is promptly silenced by Shadowheart   

Halsin leans in his honeyed breath, teasing your ear, "Meet me by the river in ten minutes…" 

Rolan

He doesn't mean to stare… Rolan can't help it; you're just so magnificent… Not only are you stunning to look at, but you're also so incredibly kind. Nobody had asked you to start working at sundries you just offered after everything. Rolan couldn't believe that the gate's mighty hero wanted to have a slower-paced life by working at his newly required shop. 

Though he should, it only made sense that you would offer to help him with the shop. You had been completely smitten with him from the first moment you saw him at the grove. Your affections only grew the more your paths intertwined, so you wanted to work close by and help him. It was nearly impossible for you to be away from him. He had become one of your closest confidants and your friend. 

You hoped your affections would have been evident at this point, but Rolan still hadn't asked you out or attempted to allude to courting you; you're starting to lose hope that he ever would. Maybe fate distended you two to stay just close friends…Maybe he is meant to be in your life, just…not in the way your heart hoped… it's better to have him as a friend than not at all, right? 

You try to push down the heart-aching thought and continue to gather tomes for customers' orders. And just like fate seems to have it, the one time you need to finish the order request happens to be on that pesky wobbly shelf at the bottom of a stack right on the top shelf because, of course, it is…

Lea'zel, despite Cal's best efforts to teach her otherwise, is still learning how to stack the books properly… Rolan had given up the task of correcting her when she just clicked her teeth, stating, "As long as they are away, it should not matter, Wizard…" You would have to be a fool to try and argue with her, though Rolan did attempt…

 Putting down your stack, you struggle on tip-toes to get the tome down. Despite Rolan's warnings, you stand on the bottom shelf for just the slightest high boost, then it starts to tip…and it's too late to avoid crashing down. Squeezing your eyes shut to brace for the pain of being toppled by books, you find that you don't feel books hitting you. You feel a warmth on your back and a familiar hand on your shoulder.

Looking up, you see Rolan pushing the wobbly furniture back in place as he keeps you pinned between him and the shelf. Turning around, you smile at him as your dashing savior this time around. Rolan gives you a smile in return, but before he can playfully chastise you for ignoring his warnings, a sharp wolf whistle breaks your focus. 

"Aw, you two look so cute together like that. You should date!" Rolan's face gets redder, and you feel your voice squeak out of you in surprise. Before he can continue taunting, Lea'zel pinches his ear and drags him off, muttering, "Let them come to their senses finally." Of course, they both noticed before you two did.

In a whisper, you find some courage. "Yeah, a date would be nice…" Your face is as bright red as his. Still pinned, he leans down closer, his hand moving down your arm. "Go out with me on a date…" You bite your lip in excitement. With an eager nod, you say yes. Finally, he asked. 

Wyll

You could have asked anyone to spare with you, but Wyll was by far your favorite, and not only because he was absolutely handsome, but also because he was an incredible fighter. Wyll always kept you on your toes and even had some good one-liners and witty remarks. Plus, your mind often wanders back to that time he swatted your rear with the blunt side of his sword to taunt you; a shiver still races down your spine at the thought of some more Wyll spankings…

You two had been clashing swords and swapping excited grins during this match. Finally, with a swift movement, you're able to bat away his weapon and swiftly sweep his legs, making him crash to the ground. You're quick to get on top of him and wrestle with him till, finally, you're getting both his wrists over his head. Your excitement is shown through your smile, matched by Wyll, as your body presses closer to his to keep him pinned and at your mercy.  

"What is this? Four to two? You're off your game, Blade of Frontiers." You taunt with a devious smirk. "How do you know you're not right where I want you?" Wyll squirms, making you tighten your grip. You lean down to his face to tease back, but a sharp whistle from Karlach stops you two. "Aw, You two look so cute together~ You should go on a date…or something…" She gives a wink before walking away. 

Wyll feels himself blush but smiles as he sees the red rush on your cheeks. You see his grin, and you can't help but smile back down at him. "Yeah, that would be nice." Your sultry words make Wyll's heart feel like it could burst. Leaning down to his lips, Wyll takes the opportunity to free his hands and pull you closer, then flips you to your back, pinning you down now. 

"Go out with me…call me old fashioned, but I think I should take you for a date before I ravish you…" With words like that, how could you not agree? 

Zevlor

Old habits die hard…and Zevlor's habit is taking long walks around the city, something similar to perimeter checks he used to do back in the day. It's hard to go from having daily routines to nothing strenuous, so he made his walks part of his day, even though walking in a city you see every day dulls after a while. 

Though lately, those once quiet walks filled with reflection are a lot more enjoyable now that you have joined him. At first, Zevlor was unsure why you would want to take the sundown walks with him. But he enjoyed your company with him too much to ask at the risk of scaring you off. It's not like you would be interested in an older man like him anyway. It's Best not to get his hopes up.

 Little does he know, you're completely enamored with him. He could read a dictionary or do something as dull as pulling weeds, and you would still find a way to include yourself just to be close to him. So when you learned about his daily walks, you were sure to invite yourself. Zevlor, ever the kind soul, was just happy for the company. Your two took your walks together to talk about your philosophy on life, your past, and, much to your delight, some ideal gossip. Zevlor taunted you for being nosy, but you defended yourself by saying that it's always good for a person to be aware of a city's dealings, even if they might seem small. 

Zevlor treasured these small moments with you, listening to your endless chatting and hopeful ideas. Sometimes, you would even pass some jokes to get him to laugh. But today's walk was different. He was going to put his feelings forward. Was he going to confess? No… he's too shy for that. He was just going to see if he could hold your hand. That should be innocent enough, right?

 While on the walk, you're watching the setting sun shine against his red skin, making the fires of his eyes look golden. You two have slowly started to drift closer and closer, hands softly brushing together, conversation flowing. Then, right as Zevlor is working up the nerve to reach for your hand, he hears someone call both your names. 

Turning, you see a cozy-looking Alfria and Lakrissa, hand in hand. "Aw, you two look so cute together! You should date!" Alfria chimes before Lakrissa nudges her girlfriend not to tease. Zevlor feels his face turn marron before quickly clasping his hands behind his back. You think yourself equally blush before smiling and calling back to the two girls, "Yeah, that would be nice!"

The two girls give each other a look before they grin ear to ear at Zevlor's flushed expression. They quickly stroll away to let Zevlor make his next move. With a deep breath, Zevlor grounds himself before straightening his posture and turning to you. "Tav, would you do me the honor and accompany me on a date tomorrow evening…"

You try to bite back your excitement, but with his blushing face and your heart squeezing, you can't help yourself; you feel like you could explode, "Yes! ah…I mean…I think that sounds absolutely lovely Zev…" He hopes you don't notice how his tail starts to wag, and you hope he doesn't see when you shoot the two girls a thumbs up. 

#bg3 #baldur's gate fic #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 fanfiction #bg3 fanfic #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 x reader #bg3 x you #bg3 x tav #bg3 rolan #bg3 gale #bg3 astarion #bg3 wyll #bg3 halsin #bg3 zevlor #zevlor x reader #rolan x reader #halsin x reader #wyll x reader #gale x reader #astarion x reader #astarion #gale dekarios #wyll ravengard #halsin #rolan #zevlor

[soaringwide]

Pick a Card: What do you need to hear right now?

Hello and welcome back to a new pick a card reading!

Today is a general and open one, where we're going to look at What you need to hear right now.

As always this is a general reading meant for multiple people so it might not resonates 100%. There are only three piles and a shit ton of you. Takes what resonates and leave out the rest.

Check out my pinned post for more pick a cards or to book a paid reading.

PILE 1

Cards: 10 of Cups, King of Swords, 5 of Swords, the Chariot, the Empress, the Hanged Man, Queen of Cups, 4 of Pentacles, the High Priestess, Sweet Oblivion, Acceptance

Right now, you seem very preoccupied, by the idea of happiness and emotional fulfillment. I see you wanting more from life and not wanting to settle for your current circumstances. You are an idealist who wishes to enjoy life to its fullest, and I think that includes multiple areas of you life because you don't want to neglect any aspect of it.

But at the same time, there is this idea that your idea of ultimate happiness is an ideal, and ideals are not reality. Reality is uncertain and mysterious, we never know what's around the corner, and I think you're trying to get a hold of that by using your logic over your heart to try to understand and break down what it is you want from life. Truth is, when we want something, even when we get it, it never quite look like what we imagined, and that's quite a struggle when we want to control outcomes.

And I think you're fully aware of the fact that there are going to be some losses on your path towards this beautiful goal of yours. Perhaps you even have already experienced some. You might be wondering if that was all worth the effort in the end and feeling quite defeated on the inside. There might be frictions with you values and feeling like you have to sacrifice something dear to you.

However, despite these sour feelings, you feel like you have to stay determined to make it work and get out of the realm of what's known and comfortable. With the Chariot paired with the Empress, representing respectively Cancer and Venus, there is this idea of slow but unstoppable movement toward you ideal. It's really hard for you to let give up, unthinkable even. Both characters are crowned in stars, representing the hope for something better and the faith you have for yourself.

What you don't see, however, is that you are currently trapped in your own perspective and struggling to see things in a new angle. You are tied to the emotional baggage of your past and it's like you're trying to run away from the pain but you can't, you're stuck with it because its part of yourself, of your story. And I think to some extent you fail to see how these past emotions are affecting the way you see the situation. You learned to be very protective of your well-being, up to a fault because, right now, this inflexibility is creating struggle and pain where there is no need for it.

I also see that you're so focused on the prize that you're blinding yourself to everything else, which is part of why you are stuck in some way.

You advice regarding this situation is all about accepting that you cannot control everything, nor that you should. As we pointed out things will not always unfold the exact way you want them to, which is not necessarily a bad thing. You don't need to know everything, to see 10 steps ahead. It's okay to not know what you are doing, no one does. Yes you are doing that because you want to feel safe, but that's not how reality works. You can't trick your mind into thinking you have full control over your life, that's a delusion, and you're missing out on the mysterious adventure that is life.

So you need to let go a bit, surrender your desire for control and float through life with peace in your heart. What will be, will be. Some things cannot be changed with force and willpower alone. Some things are out of your control and all you can do is accept and let things unfold naturally. Right now you need to let loose a little and learn to have more faith in life and to trust that sometimes, the detours are exactly what we need to experience.

Key words: crisis of faith, winning at all costs, go big or go home, sunken cost fallacy, if i don't help myself then who will, crawling out of a hole, disillusionment, swimming against the current vs floating with it

PILE 2

Cards: King of Cups, Empress, 7 of Pentacles, the Hermit, the High Priestess, 3 of Swords, Ace of Wands, 7 of Cups, 8 of Pentacles, the Hanged Man, 3 of Cups, 8 of Swords, Rebirth

What you're being asked to look at today, is your emotional balance and the emotional work you've done on yourself to nurture and repair. It seems you've been working at it for quite some time, steadily and patiently. You've been caring for yourself, healing, like a gardener working in his orchards day after day, waiting for the harvest to finally come.

And you did quite well it seems! A lot has been accomplished already. You've done the work and sought inner knowledge; with bravery you looked at every shadow, every past hurt, every trauma, and you've learnt so much from it. You really consciously took the matter into your own hands and were directly acting on your issues. It still hurts at time though and you might be wondering when it will cease to be painful. Truth is, you keep touching the wound so it's probably not helping. I see you quite stuck in waiting for this harvest, the harvest being the point where you feel finally free from all of this ready to seize life again.

You also went through a time of isolation that made you stronger, but I'm also getting that you're struggling to get out of that isolation mode out of comfort and fear mostly. Sometimes when we go through something hard, it makes us feel alienated from others, like it's hard to relate to the everyday problems of people who were lucky enough not to go through something traumatic. It can make you feel envious, or at the very least, a bit disgusted and void of interest to connect with those people, because they just don't get it, and honestly, some people lack the emotional intelligence necessary to handle people who suffered a lot…hence the isolation.

What you don't see, is that you're ruminating your problems and that it's past the point of being helpful. It's like you're going over it again and again and again, trying to see if you can find yet another answer that would end the search once and for all. You're clearly overthinking your feelings and obsessively trying to find a solution to something that has none. What is done is done. Yes you need to mourn, yes you need to let time and introspection sooth the pain, but at some point, the only thing left to do is to move forward again.

The advice regarding this is that you need to drastically change your ways. Flip the way you live on its head. The cards point at getting out of this isolation mode, because the only thing holding you back is yourself in this case. It's like you're scared of going out into the world. You might not feel ready. You might not feel strong enough. You might not feel adequate for this world. But it's not true, it's just another result of overthinking your past hurt. It's time to step out and connect with other people. Celebrate, have fun, laugh, connect with others sincerely and without fear of not being understood. Yes some people won't get it but you'll also be pleasantly surprised by others, and you won't know until you tried.

It's time to leave the old behind, the old being those past hurt you're so familiar with, and this way of being you became so used to contain yourself in. You've spent enough time in the cocoon, now is time to break free from it and spread your wings. It might not be easy in the beginning, you might need to learn to fly again and it will be scary, but it's so, so worth it.

So ask yourself what living your life fully looks like to you. If you were completely free if nothing was holding you back, what would you want to? What would you want to become? Switch the overthinking from the tiny box you stuck yourself in, to the expansiveness of a mind that wants to reach to every corner of the world. The sky is the limit and it's time you look up.

Key words: breaking the shell, chrysalis, rebirth, being stuck in a maze of your own creation, scared to open up, meaningful connections, sunlight, removing the bandage

PILE 3

Cards: 6 of Pentacles, 6 of Swords, 2 of Cups, 2 of Swords, 2 of Pentacles, 10 of Cups, Page of Swords, 3 of Cups, 5 of Swords, 7 of Swords, 10 of Pentacles, 8 of Pentacles, the Great Goddess, Spirit of the Tree

The theme of your reading today is centered around the way you connect to others, be they people or spiritual forces.

More precisely, in the act of service you do for others, with a strong emphasis on keeping the balance in the exchange and the necessity to preserving the harmony between your thoughts and feelings.

With two 6 cards in this position, this highlights reflecting on the way you find the middle point in the way you give and receive your time and energy, but also what it costs you mentally and emotionally. This is a general reading so it's quite nebulous without context, but to some it could point at a specific relationship, or if you're someone who provides service for others, it could point at that, and it could also be relevant for those who do spiritual work.

In any case, what you're clear on in this situation, is that you've reached a point of no return. It's just no possible to keep doing things as you're doing them right now. You've been contemplating this recently and reached the conclusion that you can't make everyone happy at all costs, despite your desire for things to be perfect for all involved. You are sacrificing yourself in the process, to an extent that is not healthy for you. Exchanges between people are never fully balanced and that's just reality, but in the long run you should find some type of balance and not just giving yourself to keep everyone happy but yourself.

What you don't see in this situation is that you're getting the short hand of the stick when it doesn't have to be the case. If every interaction feels like a battle that you have to fight to sourly win, then was it really a win? Others can be here for you as well, for support and enjoyable shared moments. You should be able to all get something from this. If they never give you that, is it truly worth investing yourself in it?

There is a strong need for protecting your boundaries mentally as well. You don't see how letting others step all over you is detrimental to the way you perceive life. It maintains you in your little box where you need to expand your horizon. I think you somewhat lost that side of you. The side that seeks truth, that is strongly rooted in its individuality and critical mind. The you that seeks mental stimulation and adventurous ideas.

For the advice, you need to be honest with yourself because from what I understand, you do see the situation clearly, but for some reason, you're not acting on it. It's like you're lying to yourself a bit. You keep trying to make things work in this very unbalanced state, harming yourself in this task for the sake of others.

You need to look further and think of your abundance and legacy. What will you be remembered for? For what you did to others? It's very noble of you, but what about your enjoyment of life? What about your personal goals? What about what your heart desires?

Think of trees: we now know that despite being fully rooted in themselves and being whole and independent life forms, they do live in community and are able to communicate with each others across species and help each other. The big tree provides shade to the small plants, and the small plants keep the ground moist and fertile. They all benefit from this and create an ecosystem for all to live in.

You are being called to re-balanced things within you and in your life. To get to the root of this blockage you have regarding exchange and service in order to transform yourself. Perhaps what you're doing is actually detrimental to your ultimate goal, and being a bit more focused on yourself, selfish, even, would be the key for more stability.

Key words: giving and receiving, overworking yourself, beneficial selfishness, harmony between extremes, losing yourself in the work, waking up to what matters to you, long term goal, the wisdom of trees, creation and destruction

#pick a card #PAC reading #pick a pile #pick a card reading #tarot reading #tarot #tarotblr #tarot community #divination #soaringwide #soaringwide tarot reading #pick an image #pick a photo #pick a picture

[railingsofsorrow]

Dress

[emily prentiss x reader]

summary: you're dressed in red, her favorite color. and emily has a hard time wrapping her mind around that or around the fact that she wants to kiss you senseless tonight.  pairing: emily prentiss x f!reader  w.c: 2K   warnings/content: morcia & their antics; flirting; suggestive content (no smut); kissing; fluff; friends that want to be more than friends but haven't had the guts to say that to one another trope.

A/N: here is my entry for the @imagining-in-the-margins's CM Pride Challenge! The chosen prompt was “Are they... flirting?” “Big time.” with the pairing emily prentiss x reader slightly inspired by taylor swift's dress. I hope you like it! I had so much fun writing this. 

[part of “the taylor swift anthology”] 

navi masterpost 

cm masterlist 

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❝ say many name and everything just stops,

I don't want you like a best friend.

only bought this dress so you could take it off. ❞

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“Are they... flirting?” Derek squints trying to see you and Emily's figure angled towards one another in the bar. His sight isn't perfect but he can't be imagining things.  

Penelope huffs out a laugh, giving him a look of that's your question? “Big time.” 

"It was about damn time." He mumbles, sipping into his whiskey as a gasp beside him makes him direct his attention back to his favourite blonde in the whole world. She was staring at him wide-eyed as if he had just described the secret path to Atlantis. "What?" 

Penelope slaps his chest, causing him to protest in disbelief.  

"Baby girl, what the hell?" 

"You know something!" She points her perfectly done long nails at him, earning a raised brow. "You know about... them." And then, as he follows to where she's pointing attempting to be discreet, Derek finally understands. "Yeah, yeah, spill the beans. Now." 

Derek takes another sip of his drink to hide the smirk stretching out on his lips.  

"We all know they're completely head over heels for one another, that's not news." 

"But you know more and I don't need to be a profiler to notice that in your entire handsome face. Derek." She presses impatiently. "Did Emily say something to you? Is she finally gonna make a move?" 

"Oh, please," Derek chuckles, patting her shoulders sympathetically. "The move already happened. They are just attempting to pretend it didn't. And they are doing a poor job at it. Just look at that." He mentions the pair across the room from them. You were currently brushing a dark strand of Emily's hair behind her ear, a sideways smile dancing on your lips.  

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Emily hadn't been in a party mood. Or a little gathering, as Rossi likes to call it. But she was convinced to leave her house by a very compelling text that came from you, who was the only person who could really convince her to do anything, even knitting, which is something she had no idea how it even worked, but if you asked for a knitted beanie, she would buy the materials right this second. 

Joy Rossi. That is who the gathering in Rossi's fancy place is for. Emily is currently celebrating you and the dress you picked for this event because that proved to be more important.  

"Red looks really good on you, did you know that?" 

The disarming smile you send her way is enough to make her falter on her feet.  

"Yes, I do." You step closer. "And... did you know that I'm only wearing this one because I know it's your favorite color?" Her breathing fails for a long minute and her eyes fall on your red lips. It's like you're taunting her with that smug grin.  

“Really?” Emily tilts her head to keep staring at you as she takes a sip of her drink, her lips pursing around the reusable straw. She watches as your eyes travel downwards to her mouth and satisfaction bubbles inside her chest. Clearly, she's not the only one being affected tonight. “So you're wearing it for me? I feel special.” 

A smirk stretches across your mouth as your hand lifts to brush back a strand of her dark silky hair behind her ear. Emily tenses up when your fingers graze the back of her neck, but you quickly draw your hand back and she almost frowns in disappointment. 

“You are special.” You gently bump your elbow with hers when you rest back to stare at the enormous area in the backyard of David Rossi's mansion. Small groups of people shared conversations and the kids played around without a care for their sleep schedule. Alex waves at you from across the room and you watch as she starts walking over. “So special that I only bought it so you could take it off.” 

As expected, she chokes up on her drink and you caress her back tenderly while holding back a laugh. “You good, Em?” 

She gives you a look that can only be interpreted as a glare mixed with lust as she glances up and down your frame.  

“I'm— I'm perfect.” Emily clears her throat when Alex gets to where you are. She hugs you first and then Emily, you're smiling like a Cheshire cat probably. You love it when you successfully get what you want: tease Emily.  

“Oh, look at the two of you. I've missed this.” Blake comments, sipping on her champagne.  

“We missed you,” you say truthfully, squeezing her arm with a soft smile. It is the truth, Alex Blake was an important addition to the team and you will forever miss her on your daily routine at the BAU.  

She offers you a grateful smile and the conversation follows for a few minutes until Alex has to go and you and Emily are left alone. Again.  

Somehow, you don't find any complaints about that. 

“Hey,” you nudge the back of her hand to call for her attention. She had already been looking at you, when you take notice of that you feel the side of your neck warm-up. “Dance with me?” 

Emily finally diverts her attention from you and it settles on the empty makeshift dance floor.  

“Nobody's dancing.” 

You hum, dragging your hand towards hers to pull her softly with you. She follows with a groan, feigning annoyance which you know couldn't be farther from the truth. An annoyed Emily would have a permanent scowl on her pretty face and lips pulled downwards. But now she's displaying one of her award-winning grins and there isn't one single limb in her body that holds tension. Not as you're here, anyway. Not as she's in your presence. 

“We are,” you inform, guiding both of her hands to your waist and placing both of your arms around her shoulders, your fingers immediately reaching the back of her neck. “You look beautiful tonight. I forgot to say that before.” 

She pulls you closer carefully and you feel her hands move upwards, fingers drawing circles on your back.  

Emily suddenly doesn't care that she's in the public eye not trying to hold herself back from something she's wanted for years. She's been so used to hiding that whatever it is that the both of you are doing is frightening and freeing at the same time. It might be the alcohol —she hasn't had that much of it — but you're showing interest and she doesn't feel as if this is one-sided anymore.  

“Thank you.” 

“Of course,” you caress the baby hairs on the back of her neck. “It's not like you ever get out of my mind and you look beautiful every day so...” 

Emily looks away and laughs and you feel your brain burst in flames because yes, she really is beautiful and I can't think straight right now with her laughing.  

“You should stop that.” Emily warns. She's teasing you and you decide to play into her antics by pretending to be completely innocent. 

“Stop what?” 

“That.” She lowers her hands to the small of your back, tightening her hold there as you sway to the slow song. “I'm trying really hard not to kiss you right now.” The way her breathing tickles the side of your face, makes you immediately close the gap between your lips but you refrain from doing so. There's still some common sense left in your slight inebriated state of mind.  

“Why are you trying,” you croak out, voice rough, lifting your thumb to her jaw, outlining the thin scar she earned when she was a kid. You lean back a bit to be able to look her in the eye so there's no breach in your communication. “Stop trying, Emily. I'm here.” I want to kiss you too. You've no idea how bad I want that.

Her eyes fall to your lips, “are you sure?” The warmth of her hand is grounding and it is possibly the only thing keeping you upright at that moment.  

“Yes.”  

But she takes too long and you're the one who closes the small distance left between the two of you. Her arms wrap around your middle and she brings you closer to her body when your lips connect.  

It's a damn loud whistling that splits you apart. Your brows are pulled into a frown of confusion when you take notice of your friends gathered together laughing. You caught Penelope shushing Derek and this is what you need to know what's going on. All eyes are on you. Not all of them, most people had left already and now it's only whoever is part of the BAU and their partners. Even Rossi's daughter, who the party was for in the first place, had already left.  

“You couldn't have done that a month ago?” Luke Alvez whines from his table beside Spencer, who's outstretching a hand towards him. When the money is placed on top of his palm, he winks at Luke in victory.  

You hide your face in Emily's neck, cursing under your breath. She attempts to comfort you by rubbing her hands up and down your back. 

“Cut it out.” Emily rolls her eyes at her friends.

“You bet on us?” You exclaim in disbelief, disentangling yourself from her to place your hand on your hips. Emily watches you get ready to put everyone in their place and she can't even be mad about anything else when the scowl on your face is one more thing she wants to kiss. Though what you say surprises her and everyone who's waiting for you to yell at them. “Who won?”  

Derek, JJ, and Spencer raise their arms as a trio of toddlers admitting they did something wrong.  

“We bet something was going to happen tonight.” Derek wriggles his brows. “But I think I can say for everyone that we all knew you're completely whipped for each other.” 

JJ groans loudly, “yes. It's embarrassing.”  

Thanks to your friends, your face must be the same color as your dress. 

“I think half of that money should be ours.” Emily tugs you closer to her again, wrapping a protective arm around your shoulders. “We technically made you win.” 

“But you had no idea,” Spencer interjects, shaking his head. “Technically, you weren't even going to come tonight. She convinced you. So she should get half of the money, not you— Ow!” 

“Pretty boy,” Derek hisses. “Shut up. There are no technicalities, we won!” 

“Well, I'm just saying—”  

You block off the rest of their bickering to realize Emily's dragging you away from all the attention, something you're very grateful for.  

“Sorry about that.” Emily gives you a guilty smile as you finally get inside the house.  

“Are you sorry for kissing me, Emily Prentiss?” 

Her eyes widen comically, “wha—No! I just, I was saying sorry because of that whole thing they did—” you cut her off with a peck to her lips, chucking at her bewildered expression.  

“I'm messing with you. And don't be sorry, cause I'm not.” 

The grin plastered on her face is contagious. When she kisses you again, it's more urgent, needy, desperate.  

“My apartment or yours?” You ask breathless when your back hits the kitchen counter and she starts kissing down your neck.  

“Mine. It's closer.” She pulls you in for another passionate kiss before you drag her to exit the house. 

“Great, cause none of us is in any condition to drive and I can't wait for you to take this dress off of me.”  

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#lesbian emily prentiss #criminal minds fanfiction #reader insert #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss fanfic #emily prentiss x female reader #writing challenge #CM Pride Challenge