#She couldn’t hold her arms back long enough to tie them as part of the harness so we used cuffs as a compromise

[cutiecatsub]

she let me tie her 👉👈🥰

My Fansly

#kitten's posts #me n my gf #She couldn’t hold her arms back long enough to tie them as part of the harness so we used cuffs as a compromise #shibari

[papercorgiworld]

Pansy’s Prediction

After finding out you might not be so innocent the guys make their move. Pansy's prediction: eventually you’ll give in.

Pick your guy Blaise, Mattheo, Draco or Theo+Enzo

This is part two. Read part one here: Pansy’s  Potion. 

Warning: smut, 18+

Yes, you read that right Theo and Enzo are a package deal. Funny how a few weeks ago I couldn’t manage to write a threesome for Matt and Enzo, but now suddenly my brain is like: here’s a random Theo and Enzo threesome. I guess it’s because my brain thinks those two are just incredibly slutty. Anyway, for Blaise, Draco and Mattheo it’s just ‘average’ smut, I mean nothing too unholy, okay with Draco it’s kinda public soo yeahhh. Smutty readings, dears! 

If you read all four scenario's you get a cookie, bc this is 6900+ words of smut!

You make a formal apology and the guys are so annoyed with you. “I was not myself and I promise it will never happen again, I will not in any way behave like I did yesterday evening. I hope you can find it in yourselves to forgive me, so we can go back to how it was before.” Pansy’s grinning eyes move between you and the boys. You drive them crazy and then you just want to pretend like you don’t want them. You stare at them nervously waiting for a response and Blaise is the one that ends your suffering by speaking up, though his voice is hesitant. “Suuure.” Enzo nods with his lips in an awkward line. You wanna leave the room so you make peace with only Enzo and Blaise recognizing your apology and quickly say goodbye.

As soon as you leave the common room the boys openly show their annoyance. “An apology?” Enzo asks offended and Pansy snickers. “Yeah, sorry guys. She’s back to pretending she’s an innocent good girl.” Draco huffs. “No fair.” Theodore lets his head fall back a little. “Can’t believe we missed our one and only chance.” Blaise leans forward and focuses on Pansy. “Is there no way to- you know… get the less innocent version back?” Pansy smirks as all boys stare at her with hopeful eyes. “Well, I guess, if you work hard enough for it… she’ll eventually crack, but the only question is who’ll win her over?” 

Forget about slutty saturday and sunday, because the guys had a plan and it involved… slutty smonday.

Enzo was cheeky, his hair was more perfect than ever and when he sat down next to you in class his perfume had your mind thinking dirty. His hand would brush your thigh ever so often, but when you looked at him, his eyes were focused on the professor. 

Draco was determined, holding doors open for you and carrying your books despite your protests. When he would push a door open for you he would make sure your bodies would touch. In the afternoon he would loosen his tie and his smug smile had you bite your lip. 

Theodore was sneaky. During DADA he spotted the perfect opportunity to become your tutor, standing behind you. His warm breath on your neck as his hand slowly traces up your arm to hold your hand in his to guide you through the spell. You learned nothing and blushed like crazy.

Blaise caught you off guard. You were waiting for Pansy in the slytherin common room so you could study together, when Blaise approached you wearing a shirt that showed his perfectly sculpted body. “About this morning…” He began and you looked startled. “You don’t need to worry about what happened, we’re just glad you’re okay.” You force a smile as you try to relax, but a nervous blush still forms on your cheeks. With a sweet smile Blaise moves closer, gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “No need to get so shy, I’m here for you.” His voice had you almost falling to your knees, but you’re not giving in and you turn on your heels.

As you turn around, trying to keep composure, Mattheo walks in, wearing grey revealing sweatpants and clearly nothing else. Your eyes widen, moving from his chest to rest on the shape in his pants for a second too long, making him smirk. “You know-” Mattheo starts, voice smug, but you don’t allow him to speak. “No. No. And no.” You say and hurry out of there, leaving Mattheo and Blaise grinning as they watch you. “Oh, she’s close to breaking point.” Blaise says, very pleased, and Mattheo’s grin turns more devilish. 

Blaise

As Mattheo is still staring at the door through which you left, Blaise spots one of your books and instantly a smirk forms on his lips. Oh, you’ll be back and I’ll be here for you. After a few seconds of staring and silly comments Mattheo puts on a sweatshirt and heads for the astronomy tower. Satisfied with the situation, Blaise lets himself fall on the couch, holding your book as he focuses on the door you’ll be walking through any minute. 

Still flustered, you walk in and notice Blaise flipping through the pages of your book. “Quite interesting.” He says and you reach for the book, but Blaise holds it back forcing you to lean a little bit over him as he still lounges on the sofa. You groan and reach for the book giving Blaise the perfect opportunity to move his hand over your thigh. You feel your whole body heat up and move away a little, but Blaise grabs your wrist pulling you on top of him. You yelp and he smirks, satisfied with the position he’s got you in. “Stop playing, Zabini. Give me my book. I need it for studying.” He laughs and wraps an arm around you, telling you he doesn’t intend on letting you go. “You need it for studying?” He mocks and you narrow your eyes. “How about I help you study? Everyone's gone, we have my dorm all to ourselves.” His eyes are teasing and his tongue hungerly moves over his bottom lip. You can’t help but drown in his eyes as your mind wonders what it would be like to be alone with him. 

Blaise lets the book fall to the floor so his hand can move to your hips as he still holds you close to his chest. “No one needs to know. It can be our little dirty secret.” He whispers as his fingers play with your skirt, pulling the fabric higher. The fact that you’re still resting on top of him tells him enough and he pushes on a little. “Let me take care of you, princess.” He whispers seductively, his lips brushing your ear moving to your cheek. “If you want you can pretend afterwards no none of it happened.” His lips brush yours and instead of pulling away like the smart girl in you wished you would do, you move with his lips allowing him to kiss you tenderly. 

Quick enough a hand moves to the back of your head holding you as he deepens the kiss. When the sloppy kiss turns too heated, Blaise pulls away. “Let’s go study.” He raises his eyebrows suggestively and you push yourself up allowing him to get up and guide you to his dorm. Once there you get cold feet as Blaise locks the door and you quickly turn around to face him. ”Maybe this was a mista-” You fall silent as Blaise pulls his shirt over his head, revealing his perfect body. A smug smile tugs on his lips as he lets his shirt fall to the floor and moves closer to you. His suggestive eyes meet yours and you let him close the distance between you two. “Still having second thoughts?” He whispers teasingly, leaning down to place a sloppy kiss on your lips as his hands roam your back, hips and ass. 

While kissing you passionately, he picks you up and instinctively you wrap your legs around him. He walks you over to his bed, gently laying you down before tracing kisses down your neck while undoing the buttons of your shirt. Hands exploring your chest and earning a sweet moan from you as you lay on his bed enjoying his hands and lips moving along your skin. With his mouth teasing your nipples his hands wiggle your skirt and panties down, before moving his tongue to your bellybutton and kissing down to your pussy. 

You squirm as his kisses close in on your bare cunt, but Blaise shushes you and his hands stroke your thighs making you moan involuntarily. You can feel his smirk against your skin and you bite your lips to keep yourself quiet not wanting to show how sensitive to his touch you really are. However, your efforts are pointless when he kisses your folds and inserts a finger, instantly making you grip the sheets as pleasure rushes through you. You had no idea how badly you needed this man until now. You bite down on your lips to muffle the desperate sounds that escape you. “Blaise-” You softly whine as a weak protest as he plays with your sensitive cunt. Needing more of his touch you hesitantly move your hips and he eagerly gets rougher, making you squirm again and forcing him to hold you still. His hand reaches for one of yours, still clinging to the sheets. He entangles his free hand with yours showing you love while forcing an orgasm onto you by fucking your pussy with his fingers and tongue. 

You arch your back as you softly cry his name, unable to control yourself as you climax with his mouth still working your soaking cunt hard. “Look at that.” Blaise whispers, grinning as he crawls over you, leaving sloppy kisses on your breasts before meeting your lips. “You got there fast. You must’ve really needed it.” His eyes smugly search to meet yours, but as soon as they do you look away. You were not in the mood for slytherin arrogance. Your hand traces down to the bulge in his pants. “I bet you really need it as well.” You whimper as he kisses the sweet spot of your neck. “Don’t worry, I’ll sling your legs over my shoulder and I’ll let your perfectly wet pussy take care of me.” His words have you roll your eyes and arch your back as he sucks at your neck, while unbuckling his belt with one hand. 

A cry that almost sounded like yelp escapes you at the size of he reveals and your whole body heats up as his grinning eyes look up at you. “Way to boost a guy’s confidence.” Blaise jokes and you’re ready to hide out of embarrassment. His large hands move up and down your thighs as he takes a good position between your legs. Your body tenses as his length sinks into your cunt, his eyes are focused on your entrance and a smirk spreads on his lips as he sees you take all of him. A soft gasp from you causes him to shift his gaze at you and you meet his eyes. He smirks at your flustered face and parted lips. He could see in your eyes and in every expression that you loved the feeling of him inside of you. He leans down to peck your lips and your hand traces his torso, making him smile lovingly at your touch. 

“Tell me what you need, darling.” His low whisper as your cunt throbbing and your head spinning. You shake your head, reluctant to sound like a needy girl. The smirk on his face grows filthy and his hand moves up and down your thigh. Getting impatient for an answer since his dick was painfully hard Blaise moves his lips to your ear. “Do you want me to fold you and fuck you?” Your eyes roll to the back of your head at his guttural voice. When Blaise locks his eyes with yours you sheepishly nod, but that doesn’t do it. “Talk to me baby.” He demands and his hand moves to play with your nipple rather roughly as punishment for not answering his question and you gasp. “Fuck me, Blaise, please fuck me.” You whine and he takes in the view and your words for a moment, before he moves your legs to rest on his shoulder and grabs your hips. 

His thrusts are deep and he grunts at the wonderful feeling your walls provide, increasing his pace as a reward for having such a wonderful cunt. Your mouth hangs agape as your stomach fills with pleasure and your mind gets hazy as Blaise pushes you towards your climax. Being in perfect shape Blaise holds a steady pace for quite some time, but he knows you're close and he himself is desperate to cum with you. Like having your knees almost pressed to your chest was enough, Blaise rests a hand on your belly increasing the pressure as he thrusts deep into you. Sure other people knew what was going on by the sounds coming from the room, his hips slamming against yours, you crying his name as you cling to his biceps and Blaise’s heavy grunts as he feels himself lose control. A painful cry escapes you as your orgasm hits you and your clenching walls have Blaise spill and almost immediately collapse on you. “Fuck, you’re something else.” Blaise breaths and your watery eyes meet his, he made you feel like a goddess in more than one way.

Carefully Blaise slips out of you, before grabbing some tissues for the both of you and falling down next to you on the bed. “Our little dirty secret, right?” You ask Blaise, referring to what he had said earlier. Blaise smiles at the ceiling and then rolls over to face you. “Yeah.” He cups your cheek and pecks your lips. “You’re my dirty little secret.” No way this was going to be a one time thing.

Mattheo

Still flustered, you curse yourself when you realise that you forgot your book. For several seconds you contemplate on whether to go back or just give up on your plans to study tonight. However, you really wanted to revise your material before tomorrow's class so reluctantly you turned around heading back to the slytherin common room. You are almost there when you suddenly hear Mattheo’s smug voice.  “Change your mind?” Immediately your face heats up, he still hadn’t bothered to dress properly and it bothered you in more than one way. Smirking, Mattheo approaches your nervous figure. “I- I forgot my book.” You finally manage to say and Mattheo nods, far from impressed by your answer. “Sure, that’s all you want?” His eyes suggestively scan you from head to toe, before resting on your lips. Your chest heaves as your mind runs crazy with all things you really want, but you nod. “Just my book.” You bravely, but calmly say. 

Mattheo watches you for a second and you have no idea what’s going on in his mind, but suddenly he pushes you against a door of a broom closet. “I don’t believe you.” He whispers, agitated and obviously hungry for you. You gasp as your back collides with the door, giving him the opportunity to crash his lips onto yours and move his tongue to dominate yours, while simultaneously opening the door and pushing into the privacy of the broom closet. “I think you want me as badly as I want you.” You hold onto the shelves behind you for stability as Mattheo grinds his dick between your legs while aggressively kissing and sucking your lips. One hand kneading your breast as his other hand has a firm hold of your thigh, so you have one leg wrapped around his hips, giving him perfect access to rub his hardening member against your pussy. Your breaths get unsteady and you stop resisting the moment, allowing your hand to rest on his bare chest as the other entangles with his pretty curls, while he bruises your neck with hungry kisses. Vocal moans of pure pleasure escape you as Mattheo plays with every sweet spot your body has.

“I need you noisy.” Mattheo breathes, pulling away from your neck to ravish your mouth and making you moan against his lips. You can feel him smirk against your lips and as much as you hate it, it turns you on even more. You try to subtly buck your hips against his demanding more friction, but the gentle move doesn’t go unnoticed. “You’re far from innocent. Do you want me to fuck you?” Mattheo’s voice is filthy, he’s so pleased to have you needing him. “Tell me, do you want me, love? Do you want me to have my way with you?” His husky whisper and hot breath on your skin has you whimper and cling to his neck, eyes needy and drowning in his. You nod. “Please.” You whisper and as much as Mattheo wants you to say it again, louder or even scream it and beg for it, he himself is too desperate to tease and taunt. 

“Be a good girl and let me hear you.” He whispers, lips against your ear before getting to his knees, eyes never leaving yours. His hands move up your legs, slowly, and still his eyes stay locked with yours. He wants to see everything that you feel, every sensation that runs through you. You make a soft sound when his hands move up your thighs and reach your panties. Anticipation fills you as he pulls them down slowly, while he leaves gentle kisses up your thighs closing in to your cunt. Another moan slips as your whole body tenses at Mattheo’s soft lips only inches/centimetres away from your desperate entrance. “Please.” You moan when you get impatient, purposely sounding as needy as possible knowing that he wouldn’t be able to resist. And you were right, if you beg and sound as sweet as you do, Mattheo is more than willing to comply. His mouth moves between your legs, tongue slipping through your folds, hands grabbing onto you to keep you from squirming when he digs in hard, tongue playing with your clit.

He wanted you noisy, he needed you to come for him. To him it was like his pride depended on it. So there was nothing sweet about how he works your sensitive throbbing cunt, he was mercilessly devouring you while getting rock hard at every moan or whimper that filled the room. When you feel yourself get closer your legs get shaky and your breaths unsteady, making him take full control of your body pressing you against his face and making you yelp as his tongue flicks at your sensitive spot. That desperate sound makes Mattheo moan against your pussy. That groan of a moan has you throw your head back and give in to all the feelings building up, whining as Mattheo tastes your juices not giving you a moment's rest. He loved how messy he had gotten you, the usually so perfect behaving girl.  

Part of you was relieved when he moved away, allowing you to breathe, but you miss his touch quickly and your eyes look soft, but still sparkle enough to make Mattheo grin. His dick was painfully hard and seeing you out of breath but still in need, made him almost spill in his pants. He was over the moon that he could fuck you right here and now, but he wouldn’t let you see how overjoyed he was and kept a filthy smirk up. “I want you naked.” He demands eyes locked with yours as his hand moves to his sweatpants. His demanding voice bothers you but you want his touch and you want his dick. Your eyes fall to his hard cock, clearly visible through the fabric, and without meeting his eyes you slip off your clothes as Mattheo watches, touching himself.

Now fully naked, Mattheo closes the distance between you two and rests his head against yours. “Fuck, you’re gorgious.” He breaths, voice dominant and yet adoring. He drops his pants revealing his size, pumping himself a few times and soaking his hand in precum. You spread your legs a little, resting against the shelves of the small broom closet as Mattheo grabs your thigh, lifting you as he lets his tip explore your soaking folds. You throw your head back at his perfect touch and he groans at the feeling and the view. The moment is intimate as Mattheo is gentle, almost careful, with you when he moves deep inside of you, stretching your walls and making you whimper. He watches your every expression as he keeps on pushing until he’s settled deep. A soft breath leaves you and he feels himself fall in love with your perfection. He leans closer his free hand cupping your face and kissing you tenderly. 

However, Mattheo's eyes quickly move to your chest and then lower to your pussy filled by him. His hands grips the flesh of your ass, so he has a firm hold on you. His hard grip has you gasp and a smirk tugs on Mattheo’s lips as he starts rocking slowly and ever so gently increasing the pace, making sure you get maximum pleasure from every thrust. You cling to the shelves behind you when Mattheo gets rougher, stretching you deep and hitting you right. “You need this, you want this so bad, don’t you?” His voice is dirty and he doesn’t just move, he’s so consumed by the moment that he starts slamming you on him. Your eyes scan his sweaty and panting body as he works so hard to give you all of him. “Mattheo.” You breathe in between soft blissful moans and his eyes shoot up to yours, dark and having you guessing what he’s thinking. “Again.” He whispers as a gentle demand and you comply, doing your best to move your hips with him as you allow yourself to shamelessly moan his name, turning him on even more. You were becoming too much to handle for him. He almost felt the urge to beg for you to come or even to just allow him to come. Luckily for him, your shameless moans reveal how close you are to your orgasm. 

“Matt- ah- I’m so-” He doesn’t let you finish as your voice pushes him too close and he starts pounding into you even harder. “That’s okay, love, come- fuck, please.” He can’t believe he actually begged. He’s a mess and so are you and almost simultaneously you reach your high. Panting, he lets himself fall against you and holds your unstable body as he slips out of you, making you hide your face in the crook of his neck. For several minutes your naked bodies just stay entangled in one another, enjoying the pleasure rush through your body. Slowly, you feel Mattheo’s smirk grow against your cheek. “There’s no denying it now. You want this and you need me.” You ignore his arrogant tone and just continue to rest your arms around his neck and his around your body. “Just admit it, so I can take care of you and we can freshen up together.” Mattheo kisses your cheek softly. “Must you gloat like this?” You huff, still hiding your flustered face and he smiles. “Yes.” God, you loved that raspy, smug voice of his. Neither of you were ready to admit it, but you were down bad for each other.

For Drace, Theodore and Enzo continue reading here

You had apologised and then made it your mission to avoid them for the rest of the day. Despite the guys' attempts, you had kept your composure pretty good. However, Snape was about to ruin it. 

“Out of all the people Snape could’ve paired me with…him.” Pansy snorts at your complaint. “Might get interesting…” Her smile and eyes are devilish and you instantly get more worried than you already were.

Draco

It was late and you were not in the mood for more of Draco’s smugness, but there was no escaping Snape’s project so you headed for the library to meet Draco. It took you a while to find him since he had picked a secluded spot on the first floor of the library. He wasn’t wearing his tie anymore, his hair was a little messy and shirt was partly unbuttoned. He had obviously already done some of the work since he was surrounded by books on the topic. When he noticed you approaching, a bright smile tugged on his lips and you rolled your eyes. When he noticed that he just couldn’t keep quiet. “Not as excited to see me as you were yesterday?”

You took a seat opposite of him and stared at him unamused trying to play tough and not get flustered. “You’ve done some work already?” You ask, changing the subject and gesturing to the books. “Yes, I was hoping if we get it done quickly we can have another dance, I did love the way you moved last night.” This time you try to look stern, but fail, feeling too embarrassed about how you had thrown yourself at him. Clearly remember now how you grinded against him in the middle of the dance floor. “There’s no need to be embarrassed about it, I said I loved it.” He gets up from his chair and you open one of the books to avoid his gaze. “Let’s just focus on the assignment, okay.” You mutter and Draco can’t help but think you’re adorable, blushing and muttering. 

He sits down next to you, but you pretend to read the page in front of you while Draco studies your face. You feel his breath on your cheek as he leans closer to your ear. “And what if I told you, I had already finished it.” His whisper makes you look up at him and suddenly you feel his hand on your thigh. “Draco-” You protest with a soft voice, but Draco ignores it and crashes his lips against yours. His tongue moves over your bottom lip begging for entrance and instinctively you give in to him, simultaneously encouraging him to move his hand on your thigh, stroking you gently. 

You pull away after a moment, but Draco’s lips follow you, his nose brushing yours and eyes locked with yours. “This- I- We can’t.” You whisper barely audible and Draco notices your face head up like crazy. His hand moves under your skirt and you gasp, allowing him to sneak in his tongue and kiss you with eager passion. “We can, you just have to keep quiet.” Draco whispers and you feel his hand tug your panties, but instead of protesting you lean closer to him and kiss him hungrily. He moves one finger slowly through your folds, teasing, while his free hand holds your head to deepen the breathless kiss. However, he doesn’t tease long and you feel him mercilessly exploring your pussy and adding another finger to stretch you. You pull your lips away and gulp as he circles your sensitive clit and his mouth urgently finds yours again to keep you quiet. 

Though there weren’t a lot of people that could hear you, Draco knew well enough it only needed to be heard by one to have the entire school know what you two were up to in the library late at night. Mattheo or Theo probably wouldn’t have cared, but Draco respected and maybe even loved you too much to have your reputation ruined by something like this. Yet he wasn’t going to stop playing with you either, he just had to keep you quiet. When you feel yourself get closer at the pace of his fingers moving you hide your face in his neck, softly biting the flesh of his shoulder to keep yourself from moaning, only whimpering softly. Never had Draco had someone so pretty and perfect cling so desperately to him and he loved it as much as it aroused him, making a deep moan roll over his lips as he rested his head against yours. 

You did not know how turned on you could get by a man, until you heard Draco moan like that. In an instant you decided that his fingers weren’t enough. Without thinking about the location you were in, you look up at Draco, eyes needy for him. “I want to sit on your cock.” You whisper and his eyes widen at your blunt suggestion, did he really hear you say that? With his lips parted in shock he nods, leaning back a bit to give you space to move out of your seat. As you get up Draco unbuckles his belt still staring at you in disbelief, but also eager to move his pants down and reveal his hard dick to you. He wanted you so bad and he was about to have you. Blushing and still a little shy you look at his hard member, feeling your pussy throb at the side of his size. 

Slowly and a little insecure about the whole situation while also so desperate to have him deep inside of you, you rest one hand on his shoulder and straddle him. Your free hand moves your panties to the side and Draco holds his size, guiding it inside of you as you sink down on him. “Fuck. You’re-” You interrupt him by placing a finger on his lips to remind him that in a library you have to be quiet. His hand moves to the back of your head and he pulls you in for a tender but intense kiss. 

In an attempt to stay quiet you decide to move slowly, making the moment between you two more intimate. Watching you throw your head back and bite your lip as you ride him slowly but hard has Draco’s fingers digging into your hips as he feels himself get closer really quickly. Shamelessly you grind on his dick, pleasing yourself with every move you make, while simultaneously enjoying Draco’s hungry eyes on you. 

You both struggle to reduce your moans to soft whimpers, but as you reach your high your eyes get teary as you're forced to keep quiet. Draco notices and crashes his lips onto yours for a sloppy and needy kiss as he bucks his dick a few times, hitting your soft spot hard and deep, pushing you over the edge. Soft cries get muffled by Draco’s hungry kiss. Your walls clench around Draco’s cock and he continues to thrust into you, less and less worried about the sounds others might hear. Soon enough he cums, slamming himself deep inside of you and wrapping his arms around you as you both enjoy the ecstasy of your orgasm. After several minutes of panting in each other's arms, Draco gives you a soft kiss on your temple. “Not that I would mind being seen with you, but I think we should pack up and maybe head to a room, mine or yours.” You chuckle, still not really believing what had just happened, what you had done… with Draco Malfoy of all people. “We need to finish our potions project.” You blur out as your mind starts to focus on reality again. Draco cups your cheek and forces you to meet his eyes. “I wasn’t kidding earlier, I did all the work so you just have to put your name on it.” You frown at his words and he smirks. “Don’t worry about it, you did your part by doing all the other work.” You roll your eyes at his suggestive comment, but when his lips search for yours you meet him for a sweet kiss. 

Theodore + Enzo

“Enzo!” Theodore yells as Enzo walks in wearing only a towel. “What are you doing here? (y/n) will be here any moment.” Enzo fakes a surprised look. “Oh! No! I totally forgot about that.” Theodore grits his teeth, seeing through Enzo’s little act. “You sneaky bastard, you are not stealing this opportunity. Snape partnered her up with me, this is ‘my’ chance to win her over.” Lorenzo stops acting innocent and grins. “Worried this will steal your potions partner away from you.” He gestures at his toned body and low hanging towel, making Theodore roll his eyes at his friend.

Just then you knock at the door. “Yes.” Enzo says one split second before Theodore says “No!”. Angry eyes shoot up to Enzo, but there’s no time for Theo to do anything about Enzo’s presence now as you open the door. Your eyes immediately land on the half naked Enzo grinning at you and you narrow your eyes in confusion. Theodore loses his mind when he notices you only have eyes for Enzo and in a desperate attempt to make you look away he takes off his shirt and his plan works because now your eyes are on him, which makes Theo smirk, proud of his genius. 

“Yeah. Not happening.” You say and turn around, making both guys panic. “No, no.” Theodore says as he closes the door before you reach it. He leans against the door and you watch him with stern eyes, but it’s Enzo who speaks. “Look the deal was you drank the potion to sober up and we do whatever you want.” You don’t turn around to look at Enzo, but just stare at the doorknob. Theodore closes the distance between you two, leaving no space between you two. “It’s okay to want it, we’ll be good to you.” His hands cup your face and make you look up at him, eyes locking so there’s no escaping the truth. Enzo holds his breath as he can feel himself get way too excited at the thought of the both of them actually having you. 

You don’t answer, but you make no move to leave and that’s enough for them to know you want it as bad as they want it. Enzo moves to stand behind you. Shameless pressing his hard dick against you, hands move over your hips to your thighs. “Kiss him.” Enzo says and Theo leans in, knowing you’ll obey. The kiss is passionate and Theo’s tongue is eager to dominate, while Enzo’s hand slips between your thighs and pushes your panties aside, making you hold onto Theo’s shoulders for support. You moan as Enzo’s finger moves between your folds and Theodore allows you to breathe for a second to take in the view before his hands move under your shirt to knead your breasts. As soon as another helpless moan leaves you his lips are on yours again. 

Meanwhile Enzo’s fingers don’t stop playing with your clit as he rubs his hard dick against you. “Tell us, what did you want us to do last night?” Theo whispers, intense eyes focused on yours. You hesitate and Theodore brushes your cheek, while Enzo presses himself closer to you. “Tell us, sweetheart.” Enzo whispers. You’re not brave enough to use your words but your eyes and hand move down to the bulge in Theodore’s pants and he smirks. Enzo’s hand leaves you and Theodore takes a step away from you, unbuckling his pants, making you whimper at the sight of his large size. Enzo still stands behind you with an arm around you as you watch Theodore sit on his bed and jerk his hard member. Enzo kisses your neck, while working on the buttons of your shirt, before getting impatient and just tearing your shirt off. You moan and throw your head back as Enzo takes off your bra and plays with your breasts, while Theo watches, eyes hungry. Fuck, you’re a view.

“If you suck him nice and good, I’ll take care of that desperate pussy of yours.” Enzo’s fingers play with your nipple earning him a whiny moan and taking that as yes to his proposition. Theodore moves on the bed as Enzo guides you towards his friend. Theodore reaches for you, kissing you and cupping your breasts as you crawl on the bed with Enzo right behind you, his hand moving under your skirt and squeezing your ass. Theodore’s fingers entangle with your hair and move your head down to his cock, while Enzo has a firm grip on your hips keeping your ass up so he can easily snake a hand between your legs. Your throbbing clit is victim to Enzo’s endless teasing and playing as you do your best to take as much of Theodore's length as you can, while Theo’s free hand rubs your nipple between his fingers. 

It only takes seconds to turn you into a whimpering and moaning mess as both men play with every part of you, overstimulating you. Your walls clench around Enzo’s fingers, soaking them with your juices. As your orgasm runs through you, your eyes get teary and Theodore pulls you away from his dick to kiss you, but Enzo doesn’t stop and you whine into the kiss. “Do you want him to fuck you?” Theo asks and with watery eyes you nod, ignoring your sensitive cunt in favour of your needy core. A filthy smirk spreads on Theodore lips as his eyes drown in your needy ones. “You like being fucked like a doll, played with like your our toy?” Theodore taunts and you whine as Enzo’s fingers leave your pussy. “Such a desperate little girl with a needy pussy. ‘you gonna take me so good.” Enzo says with a dirty sound to his voice that has you look at Theodore, begging for mercy you know you’re not gonna get because they know you don’t really want it. With a hungry force Enzo rips off your skirt and panties.

Theo moves your head back down as your eyes stay focussed on his smirk. Enzo moans as he pumps himself, before lining himself up with your entrance. You whimper with Theo’s dick in your mouth when Enzo pushes himself deep inside of you. You try your best to focus on sucking Theo’s member, but as soon Enzo starts thrusting immediately keeping a steady pace the best you can do is let Theo bob your head and take him deep every time he bucks his hips needing more. Your moans turn to desperate whimpers, signalling to both Slytherins that you’re close to your second orgasm. With haste Theodore starts fucking your mouth searching his own high so he can come with you. It’s Theodore’s breathy moans that push you over the edge, your body squirm as pleasure washes over you and your walls clench around Enzo’s cock. Theo orgasms only seconds after you, leaving cum dripping from your mouth. “So pretty.” Theodore's hoarse voice whispers as his thumb moves over your lip, holding your chin so you meet his eyes, while your pussy is still taking Enzo from behind you. Theo’s eyes look soft as his mind is still hazy from the high he had just felt. Your eyes are glassy as Enzo has you building up to a third orgasm, hitting you right with every thrust, groaning as he struggles to keep a steady pace, feeling the need to spill inside your tight cunt.

“Fuck.” Enzo breathes, taking you harder each time, making your moans sound like desperate cries. “Fuck. She sounds beautiful.” Enzo says with a heavy breath, making Theodore smirk in agreement as he watches you. “Yeah.” Theo whispers watching your flustered face, orgasm building. You're too overwhelmed to notice Theodore’s smirk turn into a filthy grin, before he moves away from you. “Just spill, Enz. I bet she wants both of us to fill her.” Theo’s words make you sink your head into the sheets as you feel your body get more desperate for another release. Mercilessly pounding into you Enzo searches his own high, turning your moans pornographic as his body repeatedly smacks against yours. Out of the corner of your eye you can see Theo jerk himself like a madman watching Enzo fuck you. Out of breath Enzo pushes deep inside of you, filling your cunt with his cum and enjoying your walls clench as he climaxes. 

You can already feel Theo’s hand trace your body as Enzo slowly pulls out, leaving your soaked but needy cunt aching for release, but also sensitive and overstimulated. You can’t help but instinctively squirm at Theo’s touch, but when Enzo lets himself fall next to you his soft shiny eyes relax your body. He looks blissful adoring your flustered face and he pulls your face closer to his to passionately kiss you as Theo’s large hands grab the flesh of your asscheeks while aligning his thick cum dripping cock with your throbbing pussy. You bury your head in Enzo’s gentle embrace as Theo pushes you towards another climax. “Salazar, you’re perfect like this.” Enzo whispers in your ear as you make soft noises, while a smirking Theo takes you hard, quickly cumming inside. “Satisfied now that your needy cunt is filled by both of us?” You hear Theo ask with a dirty dominant tone and you squirm closer to Enzo’s soft embrace, too embarrassed that you let both men come inside of you. 

Theo leans over you to cover your naked body with a soft blanket, but as vulnerable as you look he can’t help but tease a little more. “Nothing left of that innocent act of yours, you're our little slut now.” You feel Theo’s soft lips place a gentle kiss on your cheek and Enzo squeeze you a little closer, biting his lip still enjoying the wonderful experience. 

Requested tags for this one: @lauramjcmanus @whiteoakoak @bri-mercado-00 @adreamingpendulum

#slytherin #slytherin boys #theodore nott #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott x reader #enzo berkshire #enzo berkshire imagine #enzo berkshire x reader #blaise zabini #papercorgiworldwritings #blaise zabini x reader #blaise zabini imagine #lorenzo berkshire #theo nott #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle imagine #mattheo riddle x reader #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy

[peachesofteal]

soap x cypher masterlist / 18+ mdni / dark and twisty themes overall but this is very soft / inspired by and written for @eilidh-eternal

Johnny is fuming.

You've skipped his lab. Not only have you skipped his lab, but you didn't even let him know. Where are you? He hasn’t even see you in days, getting in late from an op last night, collapsing into bed exhausted. All he wanted was to see your face this morning, peering at him from between the sea of students.

"Sir?"

"What?" He snaps, temper flaring, irritation running hot. The student, a transfer bomb tech from another unit, gulps. Get yerself together, he seethes. Ye're acting like a bloody fool. The tech voices a question, a complicated technical one, but easy to answer, and he rattles off a response before excusing everyone for the day.

He has more important things that need his attention.

He goes back and forth on punishment as he stalks over to the tech building. Overstimulation? Should he tie you to his bed and strap the head of a vibrator to your clit until you're crying? Denial? Humiliation? Should he shave your cunt, and then eat you out for hours, not letting you come once? Should he spank you until your ass is raw and you can't sit for a week?

Anger turns to worry when he steps onto your floor, and doesn't find you. You're not at your console. You're not in the bathrooms, or the break room. You're not anywhere.

He marches to Laswell's office, knocking twice before pushing the door wide, to her surprise.

"Soap?"

"Cypher not in today?" He skips the pleasantries, and she gives him a knowing look.

'She's out sick." Sick? You're sick? His mind is already scrambling, and he barely hears her parting words as he makes for the door, anger draining from his body and being replaced with worry, fear. Why didn't you tell him?

He gets his answer easily enough when you answer his incessant knocking with both wrists in braces, KT tape stretched from the back of your hands to your knuckles. Your face is twisted up, brow furrowed, and he immediately steps forward, hesitant to touch you, but yearning to provide you comfort, to help. To fix.

“Oh, Cy.” He murmurs and you look down to your feet.

“‘m sorry I missed class, I couldn’t… I can’t type, or pick anything up, so-“

“It’s okay. Let’s not worry about that now.” He herds you gently, turning you back into your room, relaxing as he feels you lean into him, one of his hands cradling yours carefully. “Carpal tunnel?” He knows all about it, of course. He has your medical file memorized. Knows about the flare ups that are really bad, knows you’re a perfect candidate for surgery, even though from the looks of it, you’re avoiding that option. He always thought he’d cross that bridge when he came to it, getting you to have the procedures scheduled, but it seems like that bridge is coming up now.

“It’s bad.” You croak. You can’t even work the door handle, trying in vain to flex your fingers, his heart sinking at the agony on your face, when you start to crumple, tears starting in the corners of your eyes.

“Shhh, I’m here, I’m here, wee sweet.” His arms wrap around you, holding you there for a second, rubbing your back, your shoulders, trying to reassure you. “I’ll take care of ye.” He promises, shutting the door with a firm click, and leading you over to your bed, encouraging you to sit, keeping his touch as gentle as he can, as to not jostle you or your hands. “What do ye need?” He smooths a hand over your hair, and you sigh.

“Something to eat.” Oh, sweet Cy. How long have ye felt like this? This is his fault. He should have been here last night. “And some ice, maybe?”

“Have ye taken anything?” He’s already pulling out his phone, shooting a text out to cash in on a favor owed to him by another Sergeant, essentially using them as a delivery service for your needs. “What sounds good to eat?”

“I don’t know, I can’t pick up-“

“I’ll take care of that.” He’s unmoored by your suffering, but a select piece of him is secretly delighted he’ll get to feed you, wash your hair, help you with your clothes, take care of all your needs. His mouth practically waters. You chew on your lip, wincing as you shift and he moves with you, encouraging you to lay down your back, tired eyes blinking up at the ceiling. Poor baby, probably hasnae sleep a wink. “I’ll pick for ye, Cy.”

“Okay.” You whisper, eyes slipping closed. He leans, lips dotting across your forehead.

“I’ve got ye. Want the lights off?” You nod, and he gets up to flick them off, clicking on the little bedside lamp that has the yellow shade, the dim one that you like “Whit feels good for yer hands? Ice? Elevation?”

“Both.” He tacks ice onto the ‘to be delivered list’ and then grabs a pillow, tucking it into your side to place your one wrist on top, arranging your giant quilt on the other to do the same.

He fusses over you, making sure you’re comfortable, making sure you’re content, propping you up on more pillows when everything is dropped at your door, and he stashes the ice in the freezer for after he feeds you.

“Got some soup.” He tells you sweetly, and you brighten a little.

“What kind?”

“Yer favorite. The cream of mushroom.” You smile at him and he holds you there, indulging in your sweet expression, until it starts to fade, drooping with realization. Confusion.

“Wait… how do you know it’s my favorite?”

#peaches writes #soap x cypher #soap x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish #john soap mactavish

[karinab00bs]

Playing In The Midnight

just a short drabble cuz i have no self-control.. and please understand if there’s any typos because I'm too lazy to crosscheck them

tags: smut, nonidol! reader x idol!karina, ass fucking

It was already late when he came home that night, though, judging from the light that was casting its beam from the bedroom, Karina must have been still awake. They had moved in together five years ago and one thing that he had learned was that Karina loved to do a Instagram live even when she doesn't show her face. She loves doing that often because her fans.

He was working late recently and was always happy to still have some time with Karina. Not to drag her into excessive talking so late at night, no. After so many years of being together, they had learned to be quiet and to enjoy the silence together, laying in each other's arms so they could fall asleep together.

He stepped closer to the bedroom and took a moment to enjoy the view that was offered to him. Karina was laying on his stomach, only dressed in her tight black shorts, that were flattering her ass perfectly, and a simple white t-shirt. Her eyes were fixed on the phone screen while talking to all her fans. He didn’t get a reaction from her at all and it wouldn’t have been the first time that she would blend everything else out because she was too focused on pleasing her fans.

A short glance at the screen revealed to him that the live would go on for a bit and he was perfectly aware of the fact that Karina wouldn’t just end the live to cuddle when she was so happy talking to her fans. His eyes wandered back to his girlfriend, her bare slim legs, her perfect ass that was offered to him on a silver platter. For a moment he tried to remember the last time they had sex and it was definitely too long. The longer he looked at her the more he wanted her.

With a slight smirk on his lips, he got rid of his tie and his jacket, placing them aside to make her at least aware of his presence– well at least he got a little smile from her before she focused again on the Instagram live to answer all her fans' question. He stepped over to the bed and straddled Karina’s hips unbothered.

Karina flinched for a brief moment but did nothing further, maybe because it was just a normal thing for them to do or maybe because Karina couldn’t let her guard down while doing an Instagram live. Although it gave him the perfect opportunity to try something new since Karina’s hands were so busy scrolling the comments. He leaned down to kiss the nape of her neck, while his long slim fingers slipped under Karina’s shirt, caressing the warm smooth skin underneath. God, how much he loved to touch her body. Even after all these years, he couldn’t get enough of Karina and even before they had started dating he hadn’t been able to take his eyes off her.

Karina’s body shivered the moment his fingers were touching her skin and her voice sounded raspier when she was speaking. Especially when he slid his fingers under the waistband of her shorts he could see Karina was holding her breath but she didn’t stop - but neither did him. He pressed his hips down to rub himself on her perfect ass, could feel his cock growing inside his pants, could feel how his girlfriend confusion but also his arousal was increasing. And he didn’t waste any more time, got rid of Karina’s shorts.

“What are you doing?” Karina said under her breath, allowing herself a short moment of distraction but the words could have also been interpreted as a reaction to the live– at least for the fans who didn’t know what was going on. Karina’s lips were slightly parted, her breathing had become irregular, a shimmer of red was painting her cheeks and her ass was willingly presented to her boyfriend, while the skillful fingers of the latter were working her open.

He grinned, opened his pants and pushed them down enough to free his throbbing cock, that was aching to fuck Karina’s ass As he was finished with the preparations, he leaned forward and whisper to her.

“Fucking you deep and hard while you are busy.” He traced his tongue over her ear. “Don’t be too loud, they might hear you.”

Another soft kiss on her cheek before he placed and slid his cock smoothly into her, grabbing her hips to pull him even closer. Karina's fingers clenched hard around the phone and she opened her lips for a silent scream still unable to realize what was happening to her. Although she couldn’t deny that it was thrilling and hot and it had definitely been too long since she had felt her boyfriend hard cock inside of her– besides even after all these years together he didn’t fail to surprise her.

He didn’t waste any more time and started to fuck her, slowly at first, pulling his cock all the way out to thrust his whole length hard back inside, making Karina clench her fingers even harder around the phone while she was biting her lower lip. It was clearly amusing to watch Karina’s attempts to stay composed, holding her moans back even though all he wanted was to moan her boyfriend’s name out loud, he could see it and he was wondering how long she could keep her mouth shut.

Karina tried to focus on the screen, on the comments she sees over the phone and to push the right buttons to end the live and lock her phone but the only person that was pushing all the right buttons was her boyfriend, making it nearly impossible for her to concentrate on anything else but his perfect thick cock, that was fucking her so rough and fast. Unconsciously, she had arched her back, had spread her legs wider to give him more space to fuck her even deeper.

“Oh fuck, yes…” Karina whimpered as he hit that sweet spot inside of her hard and purposefully, making her whole body quiver and craving for even more. It was so hard to keep herself together, to stay quiet, so that her fans wouldn’t hear her getting so perfectly fucked by her boyfriend. But what did she care about all those fans when she had the real deal?

She could feel his plush soft lips on her back, kissing her neck and over her shoulders, drilling her even harder into the mattress until Karina finally let go of the phone and lifting her ass for him to thrust her from another angle.

“y/n, so good…” Karina moaned unbothered, the live and the fans forgotten, focusing only on the bubbling feeling that was increasing inside her stomach, dragging her closer and closer to the edge.

“Let them hear how much you like it to get fucked, baby.” He murmured inside her ear in a deep voice, grabbing Karina’s hips hard to pull her closer with every thrust, giving her no chance to prevent herself from moaning his name. She sounded so filthy, so naughty that some of the fans might have abandoned the live as well. He couldn’t tell as his eyes were fixed on this beautiful girl under him, shivering with every deep thrust, clenching her walls around his cock so welcoming, screaming his name out loud as he brought them both to climax, spilling his cum deep inside of her perfect heat.

#karina aespa #karina smut #aespa smut #fanfic #imagines #kpop smut #girl group smut #idol smut #yoo jimin #fiction

[writinground2]

The Trainer; Leah’s Big Move

Part of the "The Trainer and the Rookie Series".

Leah makes the first move.

Leah had had her workout earlier that afternoon with some of the returning veterans, followed by treatment. She did her best to subtly take as long as she could, hoping to be able to leave around the same time Y/N was ready to go. She added a few extra sets to each exercise, took her time with some mobility work, and finally sat on the bike at the end until all the players left the weight room. Leah made sure to put her name on the bottom of the treatment list, claiming she needed extra tome to regulate her temperature after her ice bath before having a shower. 

Finally, Leah was getting her treatment done by one of the other athletic therapists while Y/N finished with her last player. Leah smiled to herself when she realized she had managed to delay everything long enough that she should be able to leave once Y/N was ready to go. 

Leah kept glancing into the training room, spying the trainers cleaning up, impatiently waiting for Y/N to be done. Leah groaned internally when she noticed the other trainer waiting to also walk out with Y/N. She was about to slump into her lockers when she heard Y/N usher him out, claiming she was going to workout before leaving. Had she not caught the slight smirk on Y/N’s face, she would have been disappointed to have waited as long as she did, for nothing. 

The trainer bid them both good-bye before leaving, Leah pretending to tie her shoe to look busy. 

“You’re not actually working out, are you?” 

“No,” Y/N let out a laugh, “I just couldn’t get him to leave without waiting for me. And I could see how impatient you were getting out here. I don’t know if I’ve ever seen you willingly sit on a bike that long before.” 

She gave her a nudge as they made their way towards the parking lot. 

“Remember today then, that will never be happening again!” 

Leah nudged her in return, smiling wide at the older woman. She contained herself to not tuck into Y/N’s side as they walked. 

Y/N paused briefly at the door, holding it open for the blonde, gently guiding her through with her hand on the small of her back. 

Leah leaned into the touch, slowing her step, and causing Y/N’s front to briefly press against her back. 

“Such a gentleman!” she teased, turning her body towards Y/N’s front, patting stomach twice before stopping. 

“Oh shush,” Y/N blushed, gently pushing Leah away from her. 

Not to be deterred, Leah stopped walking and turned her body to face Y/N, forcing her to stop as well. 

“Why don’t you leave your bike here,” she softly flicked the bike helmet in Y/N’s hands, “and I’ll drive you to work in the morning after you make me breakfast.” 

Leah bit her lip, waiting for Y/N to respond. 

“You’re trouble Williamson,” Y/N blushed, putting her helmet on, but remained close to the blonde. 

Leah tried not to let herself feel defeated. She knew she was still going over to Y/N’s and would be spending the evening with her. She was starting to realize that the bold flirting wasn’t working and would have to find another approach. 

Watching the trainer, all Leah wanted to do was close the remaining space and kiss her. All she could think about when she was alone with the trainer was touching her. Just in general, just to lean into her side or wrap her arm around her waist. The pair were the same height, so they would fit together so perfectly.

She could picture those arms wrapped around her body, holding her securely to her chest. 

She imagined Y/N soft and pliant below her traced the sharp contours of her body.  

She remembered the way Y/N guided her to the inside of the sidewalk while they walked together, gently protecting her from pushy pedestrians.

Leah focused back on when she heard the click of Y/N’s bike helmet. 

“Race ya!” 

Y/N had unlocked her bike while Leah had zoned out and was already peddling away. 

“Cheater!” 

She rushed to unlock her car as she jogged to the driver door, throwing her bag across the centre console as she started the car. 

“Hey! Look who decided to show up!” Y/N laughed while she stood by the door of her flat as Leah walked up with a pout. 

“I would have got here first, but parking around her sucks.”

Y/N let out a laugh, still breathing heavy as she unlocked the door, ushering Leah in with a gentle hand on her back again. 

“Do you mind if I start supper after a quick shower? I worked up a sweat winning.”

Y/N smirked at the blonde.

Leah clenched her jaw. The comment doing nothing to her, but the domesticity of the situation was too much. 

Y/N stepped forward, reaching her hand towards Leah’s shoulder before pulling away at the least second, redirecting to rub the back of her neck with a blush. All Leah could do was give a small nod, and a squeak of a yes. 

“I didn’t think I was in there that long. Or that you could cook without burning my apartment down.” 

Y/N walked into the kitchen while Leah pulled plates out of the cupboard. Leah inhaled deeply, smelling the light scent of Y/N’s woodsy bodywash getting stronger, the closer Y/N got.

“You keep cooking for me, I thought it was time I returned the favour. But, since I can’t cook, I ordered in. One of the chefs at the facility mentioned this good French place near here to try.”

She leaned her low back against the counter, stretching her arms out along the cool marble, the food, and plates behind her. 

Y/N stepped forward, trying to see over the blonde to determine what food Leah had ordered. 

Leah pushed her hands off the counter to stand taller, causing the space between them to close. Toes touching on the floor, all either woman needed to do was stand taller to close the distance all together. 

Y/n clenched her hands before tucking them behind her back. Leach clenched her jaw briefly. What else did she need to do to get Y/N to make a move on her?

The defender stood a little taller to cause their chests to brush. She put her palms on Y/N’s hips before gently guiding her to walk backward towards the table, keeping them flush together as much as she could. When Y/N’s back bumped the table, Leah took another half step forward, causing them be more firmly pressed together. She brushed her nose against Y/N, earning a small sigh to escape her lips and her eyes closing. Leah smiled. 

“Don’t worry,” she breathed out softly, “I got as close to chicken and broccoli as I could for you. Sit down.”

With a small push, Leah walked backwards into the kitchen, watching Y/N. 

Keeping her eyes closed, Y/N nodded before fumbling for her chair to sit down. 

Leah smiled proudly to herself, before beginning to dish out the food for them both. 

“I know you love your stereotypical chicken and broccoli as a trainer, but I thought you could try something different tonight.” 

Leah placed two plates down, each with a chicken breast sliced up and a pile of mixed vegetables. Y/N laughed when she saw the plates. The blonde defender teased her constantly about how consistent and cliché her diet was, mostly being made up of chicken and broccoli. 

“That’s ironic coming from you. But thank you Leah, this is very sweet.”

Y/N stretched a handout, giving Leah’s hand a quick squeeze, causing the defender to flush pink up her neck and cheeks. 

Leah glanced quickly to Y/N to see if she noticed, but Y/N was already poking around the vegetable to see what all was there. 

By the time the pair finished their food, the last couple bites were cold because they became so enthralled listening to each other speak.  

Y/N begun clearing the table, Leah quickly followed suit, helping pile the few dishes into the dishwasher. The pair worked in tandem to clean the kitchen swiftly. Leah once again had to clench her jaw at the simplicity of cleaning the kitchen with Y/N. 

Leah let out a small huff when she saw how much distance there was between her and Y/N on the couch when they sat down to start a movie. Some random comedy she thought, they knew they would talk throughout most of it anyway. She had sat on the far end of the couch, hoping Y/N would sit close enough she could tug her to lean against her. Instead, Y/N sat at the other end of the couch, with her legs stretched out and resting on the coffee table, one arm sprawled along the back of the couch with the other leaning on the armrest. 

Waiting a few moments, Leah kept her eyes on Y/N’s frame. Her arm resting on the back of the couch gave her the perfect chance to settle her body against Y/N’s. 

Making her move, Leah moved from her spot into the space Y/N had left open. The blonde left no space between them. She settled her weight against Y/N’s side, she reached back and tugged Y/N’s arm drape over her shoulders. 

Y/N shifted slightly, and Leah tensed. 

Y/N adjusted her arm pull Leah even more snuggly against her. Leah let out a breath and rested her head against Y/N’s chest, snaking her other arm across Y/N’s torso, gripping the hem of her shirt. 

Leah let out a content sigh, sinking herself into Y/N. 

They sat with the show playing softly in the background for a moment before Y/N spoke up. 

“This is alright, right?”

Leah immediately pushed herself up, hand pushing solidly into Y/N’s hip to herself upright, causing Y/N’s arm to fall limply back on the couch. 

Taking a steadying breath, Leah did her best not to snap. 

“I’ve been waiting for you to make a move for weeks.” 

Y/N blushed and kept her focus on the TV in front of her. 

Leah clenched her jaw and waited for Y/N to respond. 

“I wanted to,” Y/N spoke so softly that if Leah hadn’t been so close, she might have missed it, “but I didn’t know if you wanted me to or not. I thought maybe it was all just wishful thinking on my part that you were flirting with.” 

Leah felt her heart clench at the sad way Y/N explained why she hadn’t done anything. 

“I’m not good with this stuff Leah.”

Y/N begun nervously fidgeting with the hem of Leah’s shirt well she worked out what all to say. 

“Not good at what?”

Leah shifted her weight to sooth the crinkle between Y/N’s eyebrows, gently caressing her thumb all the way down her nose. 

“I don’t know,” she gave a defeated shrug, briefly glancing at the blonde to see the soft way she was watching her, “knowing when I’m being flirted with, I guess. I don’t really pick up on it, so people lose interest and move on.” 

Leah shifted again to be able to focus more on Y/N than keeping herself up. Sitting back on her knees, she brought both of Y/N’s hands into hers, kissing the backs before continuing. 

“I like you Y/N,” she gave her hands a quick squeeze, “and I’m pretty sure you do too.”

Y/N smiled and gave a definitive nod, finally meeting the blondes eyes. 

Y/N shifted so her body was angled towards Leah, straightening one leg along the back of the couch, causing Leah to be seated between her legs, the pair now facing each other. 

Leah dropped both of Y/N’s hands, she slid one hand to grip the back of Y/N’s neck and dropped the other to Y/N’s hip again. Leaning in so their noses are just brushing, the pair let out slow breaths to settle themselves. 

“I’m going to kiss you now.”

Waiting for Y/N to give a nod, Leah tugged her the rest of the way in, gently brushing their lips together before pulling back to rest their foreheads together. 

Leah tightened her grip, forcing herself to be patient and not pull Y/N back in right away. 

Y/N snaked an arm around Leah’s waist and pulled her, so they were flush together. Reaching up, she matched Leah’s hand and gently pulled the blonde in for another kiss, this one much firmer.  

Leah shifted so she was straddling Y/N’s thigh, moaning into her mouth as she ground down slightly. Y/N’s grip tightened around her back, her other hand dropping to clutch Leah’s thigh. 

When Leah started to slide a hand up Y/N’s shirt, Y/N pulled away slightly. 

“We should slow down.”

Leah nodded, agreeing, but kept her hand flat against Y/N’s stomach under shirt. She clenched her jaw tightly, willing herself to pull away. 

With a low moan, she pulled herself off Y/N’s thigh. 

Y/N shifted to lie on her back, allowing Leah to lay fully on top of her. 

Both women worked to slow their breathing and steady their hearts.

“What are we evening watching?”

Y/N gathered herself first. 

“I have no idea,” Leah huffed out a laugh. 

#woso imagine #woso x reader #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine

[cl-01-kestis]

Come Back, I Always Do - Fred Weasley x Female Ex!Reader | Part 2

Summary: Ron and Hermione’s wedding is finally here, things seem to be going well but you’re quickly reminded that your old flame is present after the minister of magic introduces you to none other than Fred Weasley.

Warnings: angst angst angst, they bicker their feelings out, so much pining

The weeks leading up to the wedding were excruciatingly drawn out, the minutes felt like hours and the hours felt like days. You continuously tried to convince yourself not to go, that it would bring nothing but grief into your life. But those thoughts weren’t convincing enough, now you found yourself smoothing out your outfit just before you had to leave.

You wore a navy slip gown with a tie at the back to accentuate your waist, a knitted shawl made by your mother cloaking your shoulders. You decided to wear heels, since the dress was a tad too long and trainers weren’t the most appropriate wedding attire. Your mother let you borrow her pearl jewellery for the occasion, but you felt odd standing in front of your mirror wearing them. You looked great, maybe even sexy, but you felt as rigid as your wand. You couldn’t look at yourself without wanting to take everything off.

But it was too late to opt out, you checked the time and knew you had to leave at once. The reception started at 7, it was now 7:15 and you didn’t want to be any later than necessary. You grabbed the small gift bag which contained a new set of coffee mugs and some luxury chocolates, grabbing your wand and apparating as quickly as possible to The Burrow.

The first thing you noticed was the large tent right outside the familiar Weasley house, hundreds of guests were walking in and out, some leaving and others just arriving like you. You smiled, sucking in an assuring breath of air before walking towards the tent. You had to hike up your skirt a bit to avoid tripping over the silk, eventually walking on the wooden floor underneath the canapé.

You could see Hermione and Ron on the dance floor over a few heads, swaying side to side and enjoying their first dance as husband and wife. You decided to walk in another direction to get a drink, your heels clacking against the wood. You recognised some people from Hogwarts, waving hello to them as you made your way to the bar and took a free glass of champagne.

You watched a few people walk by, even Hermione’s parents who were once friends to your own. Your eyes drifted back to the dance floor, heart warming at the newly married Weasley’s who shared an adoring kiss as they continued to sway back and forth.

You realised you were still holding the small gift bag and quickly rushed to the gift table to drop it off without distracting Ron or Hermione.

As you turned around, you came face to face with a very familiar face, a short woman with red hair and grey roots. You completely froze in your tracks, face flushed and eyes wide as Molly Weasley gasped and covered her mouth with her hands, completely shell shocked.

“By Merlin’s beard!” Molly spread her arms open and invited you in for the warmest hug you’ve ever received. She held you like you were her own child, patting your back and giving your head a kiss before she leaned away.

“Words cannot describe how happy I am to see you again, my dear!” Molly cupped your face with both hands, her eyes kind but filled with memories of the past.

“Likewise, Mrs Weasley. It’s so nice to see your face” You chuckle, but you notice her grimace when you call her by her formal name.

“How many times have I said to you in the past, call me Molly!” She scolded you, pointing her finger at your face which made you smile. She was just like you remembered. Only with grey roots and deeper wrinkles.

“It just feels odd calling you Molly when I haven’t seen you in 6 years” You sigh, taking a sip of champagne as the older woman waved your comment off.

“Trust me, dear, nothing has changed since you left” She spoke to you warmly, giving off the same motherly tone you always remembered and loved.

You looked around the crowd for any sign of red hair, turning back to molly and noticing a small smile on her face.

“Is… he here?” You couldn’t stop yourself from asking, knowing you were making a complete fool of yourself by asking.

“He is, just around that corner,” She gestured to the left behind you as a shrill of nausea hit you like a train.

“But I’m sure you’re not ready to see him quite yet, so let’s move you to the other side of the tent” Molly urged you to the nearby buffet at the opposite end of the canapé. You internally thanked her, hands trembling and causing the surface of your champagne to shake. You couldn’t help but look behind you, spotting a couple of the Weasley siblings, but not the one you were looking for.

Molly held your hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze, leading you through the bustling crowds and apologising if she ever bumped into someone. As the mother of the groom, she was expected to hover around Ron and Hermione by many people, but her main priority at the moment was keeping you safe and comfortable. Some of the siblings expected her to be angry at you, if you ever reunited, but Molly always knew you took it just as hard as Fred during the breakup. Which is why she was helping you now, embracing you like she was your own mother, because deep down she still held so much love for you. Seeing you now made her over joyous, the fact you were back in the UK was incredible.

As Molly sat you down at one of the empty seats at the back, you soon noticed you were sitting right beside none other than the Minister of Magic, Kingsley Shacklebolt. He turned to you with a smile on his face, waving to Molly who bowed her head and gave his hand a shake.

“It’s quite busy in here, isn’t it?” He chuckled, offering his hand for you to take. You smiled, feeling the tension in your stomach flush out when you shook his hand.

“Kingsley Shacklebolt, and who might you be?” He asked with a charming smile on his aging face.

“(Y/N) (S/N), Magizoology professor at Hogwarts” You nodded your head, placing your champagne glass on the table before waving farewell to Molly who had been summoned to the dance floor.

“Ah! So you’re the woman everyone’s been talking about? Well, it’s wonderful to finally meet you Professor, I hope the term has been well so far?” Kingsley asked curiously, fixing his tunic before he leaned an elbow on the table.

“It’s been brilliant, I couldn’t ask for a better job” You grin, taking a casual sip of your bubbling champagne. The minister was delighted by your response, but something or someone in the distance caught his eye.

“Professor (S/N), would you care to join me? I must introduce you to my colleagues at the Ministry” Kingsley insisted, standing up and offering you his hand with a toothy smile. You nodded your head and stood, linking your arm in his and making sure you didn’t trip as you synced your foot steps with his.

You remember the day he took over as the Minister of Magic after the war, you spoke with Arthur about it at the time but you never thought you’d be lucky enough to meet him. You even remembered when he participated in the war at Hogwarts, he battled alongside the late Remus Lupin and Arthur as well.

Kingsley scooted past the cramped dance floor, approaching the other end of the tent. You grew nervous, clutching his arm tighter as you remembered who was nearby. You briefly passed Ginny, who was leading Harry onto the dance floor. You avoided eye contact but you heard the scuffing of shoes and a gasp as you passed by, bringing your shawl closer to your body.

“I was invited to the wedding by Arthur Weasley, wonderful man he is” The minister smiled fondly, but his words sent your brain into a deep spiral.

“Speaking of which, his son is sitting at this table!” The minister let go of your arm, clapping his hands together as he approached one of the tables. You looked around and noticed Molly, standing staring right at you with a panicked look on her face. You froze on the spot, your gut churning with something dreadfully nauseating as you realised what was happening.

“Gentleman, I’d like you to meet Miss (Y/N) (S/N), she’s the brand new Magizoology professor at Hogwarts” Kingsley pressed a comforting hand to your shoulder, but your skin was covered with goosebumps as your eyes drifted to the table full of sharply dressed men. You smiled, bowing your head and trying not to crumble into pieces as you swallowed your pride.

“Nice to meet you all” You masked up any angst you might’ve bottled up, a graceful smile planted on your face as you drifted over the table.

Eventually, your eyes landed on him. Your felt your mouth dry up completely when you realised his eyes were already on you, wide and full of surprise, yet his expression didn’t match. Fred Weasley. A man you once adored much more than anyone else in the entire world, was sitting just a few meters away from you with a heart which was breaking all over again. Your eyes stayed on each other for what felt like a lifetime until the Minister pressed a hand on his shoulder.

“I was just saying to Miss (S/N) here that your father invited me to the wedding, Fred,” Kingsley gestured to you as he spoke, but Fred never took his eyes off you all the time that the minister spoke. It was like he was frozen in time.

“Say, didn’t you go to Hogwarts as well, Professor?” Kingsley inquired with a smile.

“Yes sir, I graduated in 1996” You smiled, your hands shakily fiddling with the hem of your mothers knitted shawl.

“So did Fred over here! You two ought to know each other then” Poor Kingsley wasn’t aware of how dense the situation was for you and Fred, so you decided to clear your throat and make a move, unable to stand the silence that followed.

“I remember him, Mr Shacklebolt… we’ve met” You smile at the minister, struggling to keep up your confident facade as Kingsley awed with surprise.

“How wonderful! Then you should need no introduction, Fred, why don’t you get Miss (S/N) another drink?” The minister gestured his friend to get up, but all you wanted to do was run away and hide after he finished his excruciating sentence. You looked down at your feet, unsure where eyes should go as Fred stood to his feet and dusted himself off.

“Excuse me” You breathe out, turning on your heel and aiming to get to the other side of the tent. But a hand grabbed your wrist, one you could never mistake. The warmth of Fred’s hand entirely encased your much smaller wrist, holding onto it as if he was scared to watch you leave.

A wordless interaction flourished between the two of you, the gentleman surrounding the table returned to whatever conversation they had before you arrived, which was ideal since none of them were paying any attention to you or Fred.

He eventually let go of your wrist, eyes swarming with an unfamiliar feeling as he gazed down at you. He felt it in his chest, the sticky feeling of heartache inching its way to his core. He wondered if you felt the same, if you were as star struck as he was in this current moment.

Fred didn’t seem to picture the same (Y/N) as he did when he last saw you, you changed so much. Your hair was shorter, you looked so mature and wise, even your new style blew him away. Your voice held a much more composed manner than it did 6 years ago, but it still sounded just as angelic.

Your eyes welled with tears shortly after he let go of your wrist, a flurry of emotions suddenly coming over you. Fred noticed the glassy gleam in your eyes and his heart felt like it had cracked, but he was frozen in place when you turned and bolted out of the tent. His mother, who was nearby, walked up to him and grabbed his hand.

“Go after her” She stated gently, giving him a small shove of encourage. Her son nodded, giving his mum a pat on the shoulder before jogging out of the canapé to find you. By the time he left the tent, you were nowhere in sight. Fred’s first instinct was to panic, to shout your name desperately until you hopefully appeared. But he knew it wouldn’t work that way, not like it used to. He took a minute to completely scan the area, a few guests were scattered about for a smoke or fresh air which made it harder to locate you. But just when he was about to lose all hope, he caught a glimpse of navy silk in the distance. You were sitting on the Burrow’s doorstep with your legs pressed against your chest.

Fred looked at you for a short moment, feeling a sob bubble up in his chest as he remembered all the memories from before. They came crashing in so suddenly, he felt woozy and overstimulated as his mind swirled with nothing but you.

He snapped out of his painful haze and started walking towards the burrow, his heart in his hands. He noticed you were crying, running your fingers through your hair as you tried to catch your breath on the cold doorstep of his childhood home. Fred didn’t live at the burrow anymore since you left, he couldn’t bear the sight of his own bedroom because so many things reminded him of you.

Fred wordlessly sat down beside you on the porch, keeping a small distance between you in case you still needed space. You continued to look at your feet as the cold breeze rushed through you, your knitted shawl failing to keep you warm. Fred noticed you shiver, but he had a clue as to how you might react if he gave you his coat.

“I never thought I’d see your face again” Fred sighed, plucking blades of grass from the ground. You wiped a tear from the corner of your eye, holding your shoulders as you turned your head to look at him.

“Likewise,” You sigh shakily.

“Why didn’t you say you were coming back?” He asked, sounding almost hurt as he turned his gaze to meet your own. At first you didn’t answer, studying his face for the first time in years and trailing the shape of his nose, lips and jaw with your eyes.

“It’s not as easy as that, not after everything” Your reason was valid, but Fred still found it hard to process you were right here, right in front of him. He used to imagine this moment over and over in his head, if the day would ever come, sometimes he would dream of if, but he would wake up in a flurry of panic once it was over, realising you were just a vision.

A silence dispersed between you, keeping to your own personal bubbles as you both looked up at the sky littered with bright stars. A tear fell from the corner of your eye, skimming your cheek and dripping off the edge of your jaw. You sniffled quietly, trying to swallow the lump in your throat. You promised yourself you wouldn’t cry if you saw him, but they were just empty words to yourself. How could you not cry?

“I’m sorry, I can’t just sit in silence and pretend everything’s okay” Fred sighed, looking down and changing his position on the doorstep so he was facing you. You dipped your head into your knees, running your hands through your hair before sucking in a sharp breath and turning to face him as well.

“I thought of not coming tonight, just so I didn’t see you” You bit the tip of your tongue, wiping your eyes once more with your knuckles as Fred frowned at your words.

“Why did you come then?” He inquired with a hint of distaste in his mouth.

“Why do you think, dimwit? I’m here for Ron and Hermione” You glared, scoffing silently to yourself as you picked daisies from the ground.

“They didn’t even tell me you were coming” Fred said it more to himself rather than you, feeling betrayed as he thought of his brother and his wife missing out that tiny little detail.

“They didn’t need to tell you, it’s their wedding” You reasoned softly, still bitter as you brought one of the daisies up to your face, examining the pink tip petals as you felt Fred’s eyes on you once again.

“I know, but- fuck, forget it” Fred grumbled, standing up suddenly which made you look away from the daisy, letting your arms fall to your lap.

“I just don’t see why it’s that important-“

“Oh don’t give me that shit, (Y/N)! You know exactly why it’s important!” Fred yelled, startling you into silence as you ripped your eyes away from him and looked down at your lap, your lip quivering at the scolding tone Fred adorned. There’d only been a couple of times he had raised his voice like that in the past, but it shouldn’t have effected you as much as it did.

“I’ve waited so long for this moment, I dreamed of seeing you again, over and over until my nights became restless,” His voice stumbled over, a tremor bubbling up in his throat as he tried swallowing it down.

“Until this moment I still thought of you, before the wedding, before you came back, I still saw your face in my mind. If someone told me you were coming, I would’ve been prepared to see you again and I wouldn’t be telling you all of this” Fred cried, tears spilling down his cheeks as he wiped them off with the cuff of his DJ. His words tore your heart into pieces, at first you weren’t sure how you’d even reply to what he said.

Fred’s words stung deep but you empathised with him, you knew what the feeling was like. You spent many a night lying awake wishing he was there, holding your hand and peppering kisses over your face like he usually did. You cried to your friends in New York, expressing your sadness until all of it left your system. But even that wasn’t enough and you’d go home every night to the loneliness of your bedroom, your body lacking any spark.

“You don’t think I’ve stayed up wishing you were there? Thousands of days and nights, I’ve yearned for you,” You spluttered, standing up as well so you were closer to eye level with him. You stumbled back slightly, realising how much taller he was than you. Merlin, had he grown since you last saw him?

“I wish I could’ve told you I was back, but- it’s just not that simple” You sniffled, dragging your knitted shawl closer to your shivering body as Fred stared down at you with teary eyes.

“Why isn’t it simple?” Fred asked gently, still a hint of hurt through his rugged voice. You looked up at him, taking a moment to reply as you gazed deep into his soft brown eyes and resisted the urge to cup his jaw.

“I always thought we left on bad terms, we didn’t leave on the worst, but I knew this moment would hurt. That’s why I wanted to avoid it, to save both of us the pain” Your reasoning made Fred scoff, turning his back on you as he put his hands on his hips and stared blankly at the meadow surrounding the Burrow.

“Well you’ve failed,” The red head tried to stay stubborn but his voice gave away his true feelings, wobbling as each syllable passed his chapped lips.

“Merlin’s beard, I can’t think straight” Fred sobbed, hiding his face in his hands. A large tear left your eye as you watched his shoulders tremble, hearing his pained cries as he tried desperately to keep himself together.

You couldn’t take anymore of this torment, took a step forward, and wrapped your arms around him.

Fred’s back was facing you as you slipped your arms around his waist and held him close, your cheek pressing against one of his shoulder blades. He let out a shaky sigh and held onto your hands which were linked against his stomach, leaning into your touch.

“I don’t want to fight” You whimpered, pressing your forehead against his jacket as Fred took one of your hands and kissed the back of it, intertwining your fingers with his. Your head spun at the gesture of familiar yet distant affection, your skin igniting where he kissed you.

“Can we stay like this for a while?” Fred asked, his voice still broken but calmer than before. You smiled and noticed your tears stained his DJ, but you didn’t have the energy to care.

“Of course” You whispered, leaning back as he turned around and wrapped his arms around you. You still held onto his torso, head cradled against his chest as he held you, as if you were going to leave again.

Silence dawned over you both, but it was comfortable, cosy. He leaned his chin on your head, closing his eyes and appreciating the weight of your body in his arms once more.

A voice called in the distance, the both of you looking back to the tent and noticing Molly and George who appeared to be searching for you both.

“So much for peace and quiet” Fred groaned, his voice still jagged from crying. You smiled, pulling away from him carefully as you ran your hands down his arms until you held onto his hands. Fred sniffed, his lips quivering as he pulled himself together and turned towards his mother and brother.

“What do you think they’ll say?” Fred whispered. You laughed.

“I think they might react well, you know your mum always fancied us together” You didn’t really think before you spoke, just as you were about to feel bad about it, Fred smiled fondly.

“Maybe you’re right” He waved to his mum, offering you his arm after letting go of your hands.

Molly pressed her hand against her mouth as she witnessed you and Fred cosied up together, your arms linked and your head leaning on his shoulder. George seemed just as choked, looking at his mum with awe as the two of them watched you and Fred walk over with red and puffy eyes, but smiles on your faces.

“I’m guessing you two have finally talked things out” Molly put her hands on her hips, a teasing smile on her kind features. Fred spoke first.

“I’d say so” He smiled down at you warmly, noticing the tired look in your swollen eyes. The twins gave each other a knowing look, George raised his brows and gestured to you silently with a question in his face. Fred didn’t answer back, and simply walked you inside the tent to save you both from any further questioning.

“Want to dance?” Fred asked, looking at the dance floor where many other couples, fathers and daughters, and children danced. Ron and Hermione were nowhere to be seen, but you thought it was maybe for the best for now.

“We don’t have to if you don’t want to” Fred second guessed himself, a typical habit you weren’t surprised he still had.

“I’d like that” You nodded, taking his hand and squeezing it tightly as you lead him to the dance floor. He grinned like a fool, not hiding his happy glow as you got into position on the dance floor. You didn’t really know how to dance, you never did. You two used to sway from side to side in his kitchen as teenagers, your hands behind his neck and his on your waist. So you decided to go with that for easiness, not caring about the sudden intimacy.

Fred noticed the familiarity of the position as your hands slid up his shoulders and around his neck. His hands shook as they slid around your hips, immediately feeling like he was 20 years old again, dancing with you at Fleur and Bill’s wedding.

The fact that was 6 years ago made him wince, but he masked up the void of lost time with the moment he was having with you now. Every memory came into view to the both of you, visions of your past in Hogwarts as Fred started swaying you from side to side. You remember running through the endless halls with him after being caught out by Umbridge, you remember dancing with him like this at the Yule Ball, you even remembered the first time you realised you loved him. Fred noticed the look in your eyes and smiled, his eyes tracing the shape of your face.

“Would it be rude to tell you you look absolutely beautiful?” Fred whispered, aware that many eyes were on you. You let out a lighthearted chuckle and shook your head, your fingers running through the red hair at the back of his neck. Fred shivered at the feeling and instinctively pulled you closer.

The music was slow and other couples joined on the dance floor, including Molly and Arthur who smiled hopefully at you and their son. Hermione and Ron danced beside you, both giving you a certain look of amusement as you rolled your eyes.

“This music’s really boring” Fred mumbled close to your ear, causing you to snicker as you looked back at him.

“Want to do something more fun?” He raised a brow curiously.

“Anything more fun than this? I’m in” You giggle, letting him lead you off the dance floor and across the canapé.

In your mind you were certain this would eventually lead to something more complex, at this point it was inevitable. But for now, you allowed yourself this peace, like the calm before the storm.

-

Taglist: @earthangels-things @begaytotallygay @fruittiest-of-loops @bellawhore7920

#x reader #fred weasley x you #fred weasley x reader #harry potter #harry potter x reader

[tiffyfoundsomething]

Lady Doolli

I’ve mentioned before that I like blind box toys and ball jointed dolls and now I’m in trouble because there are blind box ball jointed dolls out there.

Lady Doolli is blind boxed but is NOT a BJD though she’s in a similar style. I’d seen these on Amazon for a while and was curious but only recently decided to give one a try.

There is 1 skintone, 6 different hair styles/colors, and it looks like maybe 2 eye colors.

There are also 6 possible outfits.

The dolls and clothing are separate, but are each $26 and both are in the same listing here: https://amzn.to/3OrhHsk

The box is small and cute with a lot of pictures and writing on it, especially making a point to let you know there’s no second outfit in here and they must be bought separately.

The outfits are packed in a little paperboard box shaped like a garment bag. It says 2022 Spring, so I wonder if there are many other outfit sets that have been released.

To be honest, I don’t care for any of these outfits, really. Figured I should get one to review, at least.

Both the doll and outfit are packed in these silver foil bags inside the boxes. There’s no plastic shell or anything to hold their position in the packaging. They’re just loose in there.

I got dark, long hair with a side part with blue and purple eyes, and almost missed the tiny little bag of extra hands inside the silver bag. She does come already dressed in the pajamas.

I tried to get a good photo of the face screening but my phone is a potato. There’s a good amount of detail with a simple layout. She has eyeshadow, blush on the cheeks, chin, nose, and brows, a little lip line to separate her lips... It’s a cute face, but I do prefer my dolls to not look sad or startled.

She does have rooted hair which is silky and smooth. It’s a little stiffer than Kiwi nylon (Rainbow High) while still being soft.

She also has a couple paint spots on her face that look to be from the eyebrow paint.

The rooting isn’t super dense in some areas.

Her head is harder than a Barbie’s head but is squishable to a degree so her eyes could be removed and replaced with some heat and her hair could be rerooted if you wanted.

Hair drop on a new doll head is normal. This looks like a plug or two which didn’t get anchored.

I’m impressed with the posing. The joints are stiff enough to hold a pose but easy to move other than her hips which take a little bit more pressure, and have a high range of motion.

The torso joints aren’t as mobile as the arms and legs, though.

Her head can look up and down or tilt left and right depending on how you turn the neck joint which is a simple hinged ball.

The backs of the knees...

All of the jointing reminds me of Figmas.

Honestly I feel like the body alone is worth the $26 price tag, AND you get a rooted head with quality hair and inset eyes, a pair of pajamas, and an extra pair of hands.

-

Neither outfit that I have has any sort of closures or openings so you do need to remove the head and hands to dress her.

Getting the hands on and off is difficult

Turns out there’s a LOT of flash on her wrist pegs. I did go in and clean that off. There was a good sized bit on her neck ball, too.

Heat up the hands, though, and they go on and off pretty easily.

-

As for the outfit.

Silver bag again.

I couldn’t get this headband to stay on her hair because it’s satin and her hair is satiny smooth, but it does have a wire in the “ears” so you can pose it as you wish.

......

LOOK AT THESE TINY LITTLE SHOES!

They have stitches, laces, tongues, glued on rubbery soles with IN SCALE texture on the bottom...

They went on a lot more easily than I expected them to OVER her socks. I did need to get a little stick to pull the back of the heel out and over the doll’s heels. Other than that, easy-easy.

I also didn’t even try to extract and tie the laces. They looked really short and I have poor motor control, so I opted to just shove her feet in there with the laces tucked inside.

The outfit came with shorts, a one-piece sweater and shirt combo, and some long socks. The socks aren’t hemmed but everything else is. Again, no closures, not even an elastic waistband on the shorts. The shorts were a little difficult to put on.

All of the fabrics are soft and despite the sweater having a feelable texture, it’s not rough or scratchy so it’s not kicking off my texture-BAD senses.

Action pose! FWIP!

She can’t quite pull of Sailor Moon’s signature pose.

Here she is next to some other blind box BJD (the others really are BJD). They all could certainly share clothes despite Doolli’s longer, thinner body.

From left to right:

Penny’s Box Antu Natural Wonderland - https://amzn.to/3IqKfOz

SimonToy Teenar Campus Series - https://amzn.to/3IlnGLl

Lady Doolli and outfit pack - https://amzn.to/3MiOflA

Come4Free Bonnie Journey of Streets - https://amzn.to/42QlMKG

-

While I do feel that the quality of Lady Doolli is in line with the price (all together she costs $52), and am impressed with, basically, everything about her, I don’t feel a need to buy another. Out of all of the blind box BJD I’ve tried (not pictured here is the Penny’s Box centaurs), the only one I’ve wanted more than one of was Bonnie. I have three.

#bjd #blind box #blind box bjd #lady doolli #product review #affiliate links

[sequinsmile-x]

Stained Glass Windows - Chapter Forty One

Life was complicated, but they wouldn't have it any other way.

-x-

Hi friends!!

The feedback on the previous chapter really blew me away!!

I really hope you enjoy this chapter, which includes the scene that inspired me to write this whole damn thing <3

Please let me know what you think!

-x-

Words: 4.2k

A full list of warnings for the fic can be found on the Series Master List and will be updated as we go along.

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

The first thing she notices is the pain. 

It wakes her up quickly, a burning in her abdomen that reminds her a little too much of when she’d woken up in a hospital room years ago. Alone and missing part of her liver, her mother already undergoing her side of the transplant. 

The second thing she notices is that she’s no longer pregnant. 

She had become so used to feeling her baby move around, so used to feeling so full that she could burst, that it feels strange. Like she’s alone for the first time in months. 

Her hands fly to her belly, the skin deflated as she presses her hands into it, ignoring the pain that radiates outwards as she starts to panic. It all comes flooding back to her, how her labour had become terrifying very quickly. How she’d been torn away from Aaron, the phantom squeeze of his hand around hers still present as she was wheeled into the operating room. The few minutes she was still awake after that are hazy. Flashes of the nurse being kind to her as she held her hand, the way she smiled kindly as Emily asked them, begged them,  to save her baby, interspersed with overwhelming fear she’d never felt before. A type of vulnerability she hated and wasn’t used to, a feeling that comes rushing back as she tries to figure out what happened next. 

“Em, sweetheart. You’re okay. Everything is okay” 

She turns to look at him, the speed she snaps her head towards him is enough to make her neck pull, something she barely feels. He looks tired, the bags under his eyes carved deep into his face. His shirt is creased,  his tie and jacket long gone, and his hair is a mess, mussed by him running his fingers through it repeatedly, one of his tells when he was anxious. 

Her focus, however, is on the tiny bundle in his arms. The baby’s face is obscured by the blanket wrapped around them, but she can see dark hair, lots of it, and her breath catches in her chest. 

“Is that…” she drifts off, her words lodged in her throat as Aaron stands up from the chair next to her bed, a reassuring and loving smile on his face as he carefully sits on the edge of the bed. 

He feels nothing short of relief as he gently hands the baby over to her, the last bit of fear dissipating as he watches Emily hold their daughter, tears shining in her eyes as she looks down at the face he’d spent the last hour trying to memorise. The nose the baby girl had inherited from her mother, the dark, bleary eyes she’d opened a few times. 

“Nugget, this is Mommy. Em, this is Nugget. ” he says, aware of the shake to his voice, “Although, she won’t thank us for that in about 10 years so we probably need to start calling her something else.” 

Emily tears her gaze away from her baby, her daughter, and she looks at her husband, a sob caught in her chest as his words wash over her. Answering a question she’d had for months, love and joy briefly ridding her of any other feeling. 

“She?” She asks, her eyes wide with the same awe he knew he’d looked at the nurse with earlier when she told him he had a daughter. Despite the circumstances, and everything he knew they would discuss over the coming hours and days, exchanging their own versions of what they had been through, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride that he was the one telling her this. 

That he was the one who had told her they had a little girl. 

“Yeah,” he says, leaning forward and kissing Emily’s forehead, his eyes tightly closed as he breathes her in, something he was briefly worried he’d never be able to do again. He pulls back and smiles at her, his hand on the back of her head, “We have a daughter.” 

Emily chokes on a noise somewhere between a laugh and a sob, tears falling past her lashline as she looks back down at her baby, her daughter. 

“Hi sweet girl,” she says, raising her up to kiss her forehead, ignoring the pull in her abdomen, something that eases as soon as Aaron shifts in behind her and pulls them back against his chest, his arms under hers as he takes the slight weight of the newborn so Emily could relax her arms. Emily turns her head just enough to look at him, “Is she…”

“She’s perfect,” Aaron says, answering the question she couldn’t bring herself to ask, “The doctor said he’ll keep you both in for a few days, but he’s not concerned at all. They got her out fast enough.” 

Emily nods, sucking in a breath as she looks back down at the baby, “That was…fucking terrifying.�� 

Aaron holds her slightly tighter, well aware that she’d had major surgery, that it would be weeks before he could hold her as tightly as he wants to. He kisses her temple, “I know, sweetheart. But you’re both okay.” 

She nods, another tear escaping as she adjusts her hold on her daughter, smiling as the baby shifts in her arms, her eyes blinking open as she looks up at her mother. Emily couldn’t explain the love she felt if she tried, the overwhelming nature of it, mixed with anxiety and residual fear over what had happened the last few hours. But she knows she’d go through it all again in a heartbeat, that she’d do anything to protect the little girl in her arms. 

“I think the girl's name we picked out is perfect,” she says, briefly shifting her attention to her husband, changing the subject because she desperately wanted to make sure she looked back on this day with joy and love, as well as the anxiety that would always linger at its edges. The resentment she’s sure will creep in because she didn’t have the labour she wanted. “Don’t you?” 

He chuckles because he’d thought the same thing as soon as he saw her for the first time. The name that they’d chosen for someone they hadn’t met yet making complete sense in an instant, her face filling the gap that had been in his head for weeks. 

“I agree,” he says, his chin on his wife’s shoulder as he looks down at his daughter, “It’s perfect.” 

Emily smiles at the baby, “Hi Lily,” she says, her words caught on a sob as she says her daughter’s name outloud for the first time, “We’ve been so excited to meet you.”

She enjoys their first few moments as a family of three, basking in the peace of it. It doesn’t last as long as she’d like, and Lily is taken to see the doctor. Aaron takes the opportunity to help Emily shower. She could barely stand up straight, her body sore in ways she didn’t know it could be as she leaned against her husband whilst he washed her hair. He braids her hair for her once she’s settled back in bed and he comments he has to get his practice in for when Lily is older. 

It makes her love him even more, something that gets her through the bone-deep anxiety she feels until she has her baby back, the relief visceral when Izzie walks back into the room with Lily in her arms. 

“Someone passed their hearing test with flying colours,” she says, passing Lily back to Emily, “And she’s in a fresh diaper.”

Emily chuckles, “Just like Mommy,” she quips, holding Lily close, the tightness in her chest easing as she looks down at her daughter, grateful as Aaron slips a pillow under the newborn so Emily can hold her comfortably. 

“See, sweetheart,” Aaron says as he sits down on the edge of her bed, “She’s just like you already.” 

She playfully narrows her eyes at her husband before she looks back up at Izzie, “She’s definitely okay?” 

Izzie smiles reassuringly and nods, “She’s perfectly fine,” she says, “You definitely had a rougher time of it than she did,” She checks her watch, “It’s almost visiting time, is anyone coming in?”

“My son,” Aaron says, smiling as he thinks of Jack meeting his little sister, “He’s four.” 

“He’ll be so excited,” Emily adds, looking at Lily as she strokes her cheek with the back of her knuckles, “He kept saying he wanted a sister.”

Jack hadn’t been shy about his preference, repeatedly asking Emily to make sure the baby was a girl, or asking her bump to make sure he had a sister, not a brother who, according to him, would steal his toy cars. 

“That sounds lovely,” Izzie says, turning to leave the room, “If you need anything at all just press the buzzer.” 

Emily nods and sighs as soon as they are alone, “You called Haley?” She asks, yawning as she speaks.

“Yeah,” Aaron says quietly, smiling as Emily tries to suppress another yawn, “She said she’d bring Jack by after lunch.” He watches as his wife shifts in the bed, grimacing as she fails to get comfortable, “Want me to take her for a little while so you can nap?”

Emily hesitates, briefly tightening her hold on Lily. She looks up at Aaron and bites the inside of her cheek, “I…I don’t want to let her go.” 

It feels ridiculous, absurd in a way that she hadn’t expected. The need to keep her baby nearby overwhelming. She can’t help but think about how her mother felt when she was a newborn, if she felt the same pull to her that she felt to Lily right now. 

A feeling that, if she’d ever had it, clearly hadn’t lasted. 

“That’s normal, Em,” Aaron says, cupping the back of her head as he kisses her forehead, “You just had a baby, and it was traumatic. But, I’ll be right here with her,” he says, nodding towards the chair within literal reaching distance, “And you had major surgery, you need sleep.” 

She sighs and nods, “You’re right,” she says, lifting the newborn up so she can kiss her forehead, “You go with Daddy, sweet girl.” Aaron takes her, the baby looking absurdly small in his hands, and she smiles as they settle into the seat. “I’m not even that tired.” 

Aaron smiles as she yawns again, her eyes already drifting shut, “Of course not, sweetheart,” he replies, shaking his head lovingly as he watches her fall asleep before he looks back down at Lily, “It’s just you and me for a little while, Lilypad,” he says, trying out the nickname he’s sure his wife would chastise him for if she was awake, “It means I have some time to tell you all about Mommy,” he says, holding her even closer, “And just how much she loves us.”

___

Emily can’t help but smile as she hears her stepson’s feet thundering down the hallway, followed by his overjoyed voice travelling through the small gap in the door. 

“Daddy!” He screams, ignoring both of his parents' attempts to quiet him down, “Mommy said that Nugget is a girl.”

She listens as Haley and Aaron have a brief conversation, congratulations passed on between a couple who once sat in this very hospital with their newborn. Emily’s attention is briefly stolen by Lily who squeaks, the sound not quite a cry as she shifts in her mother’s embrace. 

“You’re okay, Lily,” she says, rocking the newborn, “You’re about to meet your brother.” 

“Are you not going to see Nugget, Mommy?” 

Emily looks up at the door, Jack’s innocent question making her freeze. She listens as Aaron and Haley try to explain, as best they can, why she is waiting out in the hallway. Emily looks back down at her daughter, and any reason she may have had for wanting Haley to wait outside, any logic she may have had previously, is gone in an instant. 

They’d be linked together forever, and not just because they’d loved the same man, albeit different versions of him, but because their kids would be siblings. They’d be at weddings and birthdays and graduations together for the rest of their lives. 

It’s enough to make her speak before she’s aware she’s going to, her voice loud enough she knows she’ll be heard in the hall. 

“She can come in,” she says, clearing her throat once she’s spoken, “I…I don’t mind.” 

There’s a moment of silence before Aaron’s head pops around the door, his eyebrows furrowed, “Em, are you sure?” 

She smiles, love for him for checking she was sure blooming in her chest, and she nods, “Yeah, I’m sure.” 

He smiles and disappears again for a moment before the door opens fully, Jack making it over the threshold before anyone can stop him.

“Emily!” 

“Be careful, Jack,” Haley says as she walks in, “Remember what we spoke about? Emily will be sore,” she looks up at Emily, her smile nothing short of genuine, “Congratulations.” 

“Thanks, Haley.” 

If Haley feels awkward, she doesn’t look it, her smile genuine as she watches whilst Aaron helps lift Jack onto the bed. Jack kneels next to Emily, his hand on her shoulder as he looks down at Lily, his eyes wide as he looks back up at Haley and Aaron. 

“Jack, this is Lily,” Emily says, smiling at the little boy she couldn’t love more if she tried. 

“She’s so pretty,” he says, his voice shaking as his eyes fill with tears.

Emily chuckles, the sound catching on a sob in her chest, “She is, huh?” She says, unwrapping an arm from around Lily so she can wrap it around Jack, “Do you want to hold her?” 

He nods enthusiastically and does as he’s told when Emily instructs him to sit down properly. She passes the newborn over and makes sure she still has her hand supporting Lily’s head. 

“She’s so small,” Jack says, his voice still full of awe. 

“You were actually a little bit smaller once,” Aaron says, exchanging a small smile with Haley, a flash of a memory from a moment that felt like a lifetime ago.

“When can she play with me?” Jack asks, making the three adults in the room laugh. 

“Not for a while, honey,” Emily says, pressing a kiss to his temple, “But when she’s ready, you’re going to have to teach her how to play.” 

Jack looks over at Haley, his eyes wide as if he is looking for confirmation and she nods, clearing her throat before she speaks, “It’s true, it’s what big brothers do.” 

He looks back down at the baby, “As long the cars stay mine.” 

Jack, whilst clearly enamoured with his sister, quickly grows bored of sitting still, his attention span still quite short. He starts to ask Aaron to take him to the cafeteria, apparently desperate for some ice cream and some one on one time with his father, and he eventually relents. As much as he doesn’t want to leave Emily’s side, especially when his ex-wife is around, he also knows he wants to spend time with Jack. 

He has a silent conversation with Emily, a quick meeting of their eyes that she answers with a simple nod, an assurance she’d be okay, and he leads Jack out into the hallway and towards the cafeteria. 

As soon as Emily is alone with Haley there is a beat of awkward silence, the buffer of their shared love for Jack and Aaron gone out of the room with them, and Haley clears her throat.

“I can go wait out in the-”

“No, it’s okay,” Emily says, smiling at her, “Do you want to hold her?” 

Haley’s eyes go briefly wide, “Oh, no it’s-”

“You’d be doing me a favour,” Emily says, cutting her off, “My arms are starting to ache, and if there is one thing Lily has made clear in her 12 hours of life it’s that she doesn’t like to be put down.” 

Haley chuckles and she nods, putting her bag down before she approaches the bed, finally leaving the spot she’d been stood in since she’d walked into the room. She gently eases Lily from Emily’s arms and holds her securely before she sits down in the chair next to the bed. She smiles as she studies the baby’s face, clocking features she would seemingly share with Aaron and Jack, and those that were distinctly Emily’s. 

“She really is beautiful,” Haley says, looking back at Emily, who smiles, pride swelling in her chest. 

“Thank you,” she replies, shifting in her bed to make herself more comfortable, but wincing as she pulls at her abdomen in just the wrong way. 

Haley’s smile turns sympathetic, “Aaron said you had a bit of a rough go of it,” she says, automatically patting Lily’s back as she starts to fuss, a motor memory from the long nights when Jack was this tiny, “How are you feeling?” 

“Sore,” Emily replies simply, “Overjoyed,” she chuckles humourlesly, “Terrified I’ll somehow mess this all up.” 

She says it without meaning to, admitting to Haley what she’d struggled to say to anyone other than Aaron, but she finds she doesn’t regret it, especially when Haley nods. 

“I remember feeling all of that,” she says, smiling again as she looks back down at Lily, “You know, he always wanted a little girl.” 

Emily frowns, her eyebrows knitting together as she continues to look at the other woman, “What do you mean?” 

“Aaron,” Haley says, looking back at Emily, a wry smile on her face, “Before we found out Jack was a boy he kept talking about girls' names and about how he’d have to learn to braid hair,” she says, her smile turning wistful at the memory, “He was overjoyed about Jack, don’t get me wrong. And he loves him. But I think it was a defence mechanism of sorts, as if he’d convinced himself he’d be a better father to a little girl than he would be to a little boy,” she shakes her head slightly, “As if having a son would turn him into his father.” 

Emily sighs, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip as she thinks about it. The thought that Aaron would ever consider himself as anything but the amazing father she knew he was enough to break her heart. 

“Well,” she says, blowing out a breath, “I understand that feeling more than most.” 

It was her greatest fear, that she’d turn into her mother. That her daughter would one day resent her for her choices, something Aaron told her was impossible. She’d already changed her job, putting an end to a part of her career she’d loved, for Lily before she’d even met her. 

She bore a fresh scar for her, her skin torn open just beneath where she’d done the same for her mother all those years ago. Physical proof on her skin of how deeply she loved. 

“That’s why you two work I think,” Haley says, no sense of irritation or jealousy in her voice, “You understand each other in a way we never did,” she smiles at Emily, “I don’t know anything about your situation with your mother,” she says, and Emily stops breathing for a moment, anxiety filling her lungs, “But I’ve picked up on enough to know you don’t see her, and that your relationship is difficult.” 

Emily sighs, not wanting to think about her mother any more than she already has the last day or so, “Haley…”

“What I mean is, I relied on my mother the first few weeks after Jack was born,” she says, smiling down at Lily, “It’s a hell of a thing to be a first-time mom and…it helps to speak to people who have been through it,” she glances back up at Emily, “I know you have JJ, but if you ever do need to speak to someone, I hope you know you can call me too.” 

For a moment, Emily is taken aback, the offer so kind it makes tears burn in the back of her eyes. She wonders how this can be the same woman who had reacted so negatively when she first found out about the baby she was holding, and she feels hope spark in her belly. Hope that they might one day be the friends they once had been again, the path they’d been walking down this time last year visible to her again, the fog of hurt feelings and resentment lifting. 

“Thank you,” she says, chuckling at herself as she wipes a tear from her cheek, “That means a lot.” 

Haley smiles and nods, her own eyes shining, “Well, us mothers of the Hotchner kids have to stick together,” she says, her smile wavering, “God knows they are the most stubborn beings to walk the planet.”

They both laugh and the door opens, Aaron walking in with his arm around Jack’s shoulders, the little boy content with his pot of ice cream. Aaron narrows his eyes in confusion when both Emily and Haley laugh again at the look on his face.

“What?” He asks, his voice dripping with amusement even though he’s not in on the joke.

Emily smiles and shakes her head, “Nothing, honey.”

___

She smiles as she watches Aaron’s head flop forward again, his cheek slipping from his palm as he shocks himself awake for the fourth time in as many minutes. She looks over at Lily, fast asleep in her bassinet, and then back at her husband. 

“Aaron, honey,” she says, waiting until he looks at her, his exhaustion clear, “You should go home.” 

He shakes his head fiercely, “No, Em. I’m fine.” 

She smiles and reaches out for him, her fingers linking with his, “I say this with all the love in the world, but you fucking stink,” she says, pausing as he laughs, “And you’ve been wearing that shirt for…I actually don’t even know how long,” she smiles at him, tugging him closer. He stands from his chair and she pulls him in for a kiss, “Go home. Shower. Sleep in our bed and come back in the morning.” 

He looks unsure, his gaze flicking between her and Lily on the other side of her bed, “Sweetheart-”

“We’ll be fine,” she says, cupping his cheek, letting her nails scratch slightly at his stubble, “The nurses are here to help with anything. We need you to get a good night sleep.” 

He pauses, but eventually nods, his forehead pressing against hers, “You’ll call if you need me?” 

She stamps a kiss against his lips, “Of course,” she says, “I love you.” 

“I love you too,” he replies, kissing her once more before he stands up and rounds the bed to say goodbye to Lily, his lips gentle against the top of her head so he doesn’t disturb her. He looks back at his wife, “I mean it-”

“I’ll call you if I need anything,” she assures him, “Now go home and shower,” she smiles as she looks him up and down, “I wouldn’t be mad if you didn’t shave though.” 

He shakes his head at her lovingly and drops a kiss to her forehead once more before he leaves. As soon as the door clicks shut Lily wakes up and Emily sighs, “You have excellent timing, sweet girl.” 

She groans as she swings her legs out of the bed, her hand against the nightstand as she stands up, pain licking through her abdomen. She slowly walks the few paces to the bassinet and grips onto it as she looks down at Lily, marvelling at how tiny her feet are, reaching out fo grab one in her hand. Her eyes fall to the name band around Lily’s ankle and the one on her own wrist, and the different surnames makes something she can’t put a name to unfurl in her gut. 

Lily Hotchner 

Emily Prentiss

She sighs as she picks Lily up, well aware when the nurse came in she’d shout at her for not asking for help with what had been deemed ‘heavy lifting,’ a term that felt riduclous when she considered her daughter was a mere 7lbs 2oz. 

She’d never considered changing her name when she married Aaron. But right in this moment, her baby in her arms, she finds that she wants to share a name with her and the man she loves, not the man who’d abandoned her and the woman who had chosen everything but her. 

“We may have to do something about my last name, huh Lily?” She says outloud as she settles back onto the bed, wincing as she does so. She smiles as Lily starts to root at her chest and she shakes her head, “Okay, baby. Mommy knows what you want. We’ll shelve the name changing until later.” 

As she sits and nurses her daughter, humming a nursery rhyme she didn’t know the name of, Emily is sure she’s never been happier.

-x-

The scene between Emily and Haley, the thought of the two of them having that moment after Emily had Aaron's baby, something we'd never get in a more canon-based universe, is genuinely what inspired this ENTIRE fic.

-x-

Tag List:

@ssa-sparks, @lukeclvez, @lyds102, @glockleveledatyourcrotch, @hotchnissenthusiast, @danadeservesadrink, @ssamorganhotchner, @emilyprentissisgod, @notagentprentiss, @freesiasandfics, @emilyshotchniss, @thecharmingart, @paulitalblond, @hancydrewfan, @camille093, @whitecrossgirl, @moonlight-2-6, @rawr-jess, @florenceremingtonthethird, @jareauswife, @ms-black-a, @beebeelank, @aubreyprc, @zipzapboingg, @psychopath-at-heart, @criminalmindsgonewrong, @fionaloover, @kinqslcys, @prentissinred, @ccmattis-22, @denvivale317, @thrindis, @hotchsguccitie, @cmfouatslota77, @alexblakegf, @aliensaurusrex, @prentissxhotch, @emobabeyy, @victoiregranger, @stormyweatherth, @wanderingdreamer009, @ssablackbird, @luhwithah, @lex13cm, @prentiss-theorem, @dont-emily-me, @mrs-ssa-hotch, @jocyycreation, @itsmytimetoodream, @hotchnissgroupie, @controversialpooh, @capsshinyshield, @canuck-eh

Join my tag list here!

#hotchniss #hotchniss fanfiction #hotchniss fanfic #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #aaron hotchner #aaron x emily #hotchniss fan fic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #emily prentiss #emily prentiss fanfiction

[dailyreverie]

Carving Contest

A/N: This one goes to my lovely wife @nadja-antipaxos / @sexy-skeleton, thank you so much for requesting! And alright, so... I don't think we know Frankie's kid's name or gender in the movie but I like to imagine he has a girl idk why. I really hope you like it!

Fall prompts 🍂 "Is it supposed to look like that?"

Pairing: Santiago Garcia x reader.

Word count: 835 words

When Frankie suggested a family-friendly Halloween party, one in which his little one could be a part of, you never expected the rest of the group to follow through… yet, there they were. The way Halloween goes with your fellow friends is the opposite of family-friendly, with overcrowded bars and way too much to drink, and on your side, a history of costumes made just to drive Santiago mad enough to make him push you against a wall.

Now, instead of all that, you find yourselves with a cooler full of canned beers and soft drinks, and your very safe matching vampire and victim costumes - yes, all with blood coming out of his lip and fake bit marks on your neck, styled with a long dress because “please wear something fucking decent”, Fish had warned you - Santiago and you join the rest of your group for a night of family fun.

You join Santi by the paper-covered table assigned as the carving station, where he fights against Will to crave a cute pumpkin. When you see him there you can´t help but smile at the concentrated look on his face as he stabs and cuts the biggest pumpkin he could find. He stands towering over an already opened pumpkin, his shoulders are tense when you place your hands on them to let him know you are there, and you kiss his cold cheek to try and ease him. “Who’s winning?” You whisper against his ear before sitting next to him.

“It might be a tie so far,” Santi replies after taking a quick look at Will’s work, who looks just as frustrated as your boyfriend. Still, Santiago lets out a huff of air, tired and exasperated at his lack of artistic skills. “I don’t get why Fish thought I would be good at this.”

“I don’t know, mi amor, but I feel like I should thank him.” You shot him a sly smile, since ever since you joined him your eyes couldn’t stay away from the way his arms bulked when cutting into the hard pumpkin.

“Ah, tramposa [cheater]” He jokes winking at you. “And I thought you had come here to help.”

“Nope,” You sip on your drink, your eyes roaming over his muscles. “I’m just here for the view”

A slight blush paints Santi’s cheeks pink, rolling his eyes at you but enjoying the attention still. After a few more cuts he lets the knife fall and sits beside you, hugging your shoulders to pull you towards his tired body. “Well, I think it’s not that bad.” Santi confirms.

Turning to look at the pumpkin you have to bite your lip to hold the laughter in. One eye was smaller than the other and the nose was crooked to the side, but it looks at you with a smile that you can only match in return as you kiss Santi’s cheek.

“What?” He asks, an eyebrow lifting up his forehead. “No review?”

“It looks great, Santi, but-”

“Oh, come on,” He glares at you, his eyes narrowing playfully at you.

“But is it supposed to look like that?” Santi looks back at his creation but you keep your eyes on him, his handsome profile confused as to why you were asking. 

“What do you mean?” Santi is quick to pull out his phone, a picture of a carved pumpkin that he used for reference showing up on his screen. 

“Look at his eyes, they’re not even.” You whisper, trying to not give away how badly he was going to lose. “And the mouth, it isn’t even open.” Again, you point out the clear differences between expectation and reality, kissing his jaw when he starts shaking his head.

“I can’t let her see this, she was so excited about it.” Santi looks disappointed, sad even, at the fact that he butchered his only task.

As if on cue, Fish’s kid shows up to see uncle Santi’s creation. She’s not as discreet as you are, giggling at the pumpkin that looks back at her with one eye too big and another one too small. “What is that?” She laughs, climbing onto Santi’s lap.

“That’s your uncle Benny after a fight.” Santi tries to rescue it, relaxing a little when he saw her laughing. His answer makes the giggles turn into a full belly laugh, and despite the result, the laugh coming from both you and the little girl makes Santi forget about his disastrous attempt at carving; instead, he joins in the laugh when he feels his heart becoming full. The way he turned the situation makes you look at him with a smile and crinkled eyes, a proud smile at how he made his favorite girls happy.

"I think you won." You push his hair back, resting your hand on the back of his head just to feel him, to let him know how happy you were by seeing him happy too.

"I think I did." Santi might be a crappy artist, but he was damn good at making you smile.

🍂🍑🍂🍑🍂🍑🍂🍑🍂🍑🍂🍑

Thanks for reading! Please reblog and comment if you enjoyed it!

#santiago garcia x reader #santiago garcia x you #santiago garcia imagine #santiago garcia fluff #santiago garcia fic #triple frontier #triple frontier fic #santiago garcia fanfiction #santiago garcia headcanon #triple frontier fanfiction

[jennay]

Phlebotomy

Request

Y/n has to get her blood test and she's so stressed because of it so she asks her boyfriend jamie to go there with her xx

master list

Sitting in your car, you lean your head against your steering wheel. You close your eyes and try to convince yourself that this isn’t a big deal. Getting your blood drawn didn’t necessarily mean you were unhealthy, but lately, you’d felt tired and worn down. The last time This happened, your Vitamin D levels were barely at 25%, and your doctor scolded you. She was kind enough to prescribe you Vitamins that shot your levels back to where they needed to be.

You slowly lean back and close your eyes, tilting your head to the sky as if the universe would save you from this appointment. “Please, let them cancel it.”

Nervousness seeps into your already nauseous core. It would be best if you hadn’t come nearly thirty minutes early. It gave you too much time to contemplate leaving. You take in a deep breath and reach your hand in your pocket. It would help if you asked Jamie to come while you two were at home, but part of you wanted to prove you could overcome this fear by yourself.

The phone rings a few times before Jamie answers; when you hear his voice, your nerves begin to calm. “So I’m sitting in the parking lot debating on leaving.”

“Would you like it if I was there?” He pauses to let you decide. He didn’t want to intrude since he knew that you were trying to do this on your own.

Tears blur your line of vision, “Please.” You whimper.

“Let me get my shoes on, and I’ll be on my way. Do you want me to stay on the phone?”

You shake your head, “No. That’s ok. Thank you.”

“I’ll be there soon, love.”

You click end call and lightly toss your phone onto the passenger seat. You rest your head on the steering wheel, feeling disappointed in yourself now that you’ve had to ask your boyfriend to come “save” you once again. A soft sob escapes your lips. You knew that Jamie didn’t mind, but you still felt terrible.

A light knock on your window drags you from your thoughts of negativity. You turn your head to see Jamie smiling back at you. Unlocking the door for him couldn’t have happened fast enough. He sits in the passenger seat, his eyes full of empathy as he weakly smiles. He rests his hand on your leg and leans over as if he’s going to tell you a secret. “Hey,” He coos. “It’s ok to be afraid. We’ll get through this, my love. We always get through tough things. Right?”

You nod. “I know; I just wish I didn’t have to do this.”

He pushes his hair behind his ears. His eyes drift to the building. “We’ll be in and out; come on.” He gets out of the car and softly jogs to your side. He opens the door and holds his hand out for you to take. “Have I ever led you to danger?” He asks.

You shake your head, “No.” you take his hand and hop out of your car.

Jamie’s arms safely wrap around you. He squeezes tightly, “You can do this.” He kisses the top of your head.

You pull away and lace your fingers with his. You feel ten times better with Jamie by your side. He opens the door, and the two of you check in for your appointment and find a place to sit.

When the nurse calls you up, Jamie asks if you’d like him to stay seated or come with you. You don’t have to say anything. He can tell by the look on your face that you need him.

He quickly stands and walks with you and the nurse to the back room, where the phlebotomist will draw your blood. The veils laid out before you make you want to vomit. Your grip on Jamie’s hand tightens as you sit in the chair. You must let go of his hand for the poor lady to do her job. She begins with the tie right below your bicep. “This won’t take long.” She says.

Jamie stands beside you on your right side with his hand on your shoulder. “Look,” He crouches down to you. “Focus on me, love.”

You do as you’re told and continue to listen to Jamie’s voice as he tells you the plans for the rest of the day and what your reward will be for being so brave. You feel like a small child in this situation being coached by your parent, but you need it. You feel a light prick in your arm, and before you can react badly to the needle, the woman is placing gauze on your arm and taping you up. “All done.” She says.

“That was fast.” You laugh at yourself for feeling that afraid of getting your blood drawn. “Can we go?” You ask.

She nods. “We’ll call you with what we find.”

Jamie Leads you down the hallway. He walks you to your car and allows you to get in. He gently lifts your chin and says, “You’re so brave.” You smile at him. He really did know how to make you feel good about yourself. “I’ll see you at home, ok?”

“Thank you for coming.” You reach up for a kiss, and he gladly takes the hint. “See you soon.”

I’ll still be taking requests ❤️

#jamie bower #jamie campbell bower #jamie campbell x reader #jamie fanfic #jamie bower x reader #jamie bower x you #jamie bower fluff #jcb #jamie bower x y/n #jamie campbell bower x you #jcbower

[enchantinglyjade]

Milk & Honey - Ch. 4

Austin!Elvis x Black!OC

Masterlist

Previous | Next

Summary: Honey goes on her date with Michael, but things go unexpectedly. Vickie comes to the rescue.

Warning: Swearing

Note: This is a longer chapter, hopefully to make up for the shorter last one

-

I whine at the clock as I fix my headscarf into place, making sure the bow sits nicely under my chin. Seven o’clock approaches and I’m not in the slightest bit looking forward to this date. My mom, on the other hand, couldn’t be happier.

I tie my button up shirt in a knot just above the waistband of my short, pleated skirt. “Michael’s here, Honey!” All the energy in my body seems to dissipate as I hear those words. “Don’t you look handsome, Michael. It’s been so long. You better keep my baby safe, boy. Ooo. Is that a convertible you got out there?” I roll my eyes, hearing Ma butter him up downstairs. 

I huff in the mirror, taking one last look at myself, then exiting my room. Mom and Michael come further into frame as I descend down the stairs. Michael notices me, silently hoping my mother will as well and distract herself from her interrogation.

I shyly wave at him. “Ma, we’ll be fine. It’s 7pm, it’s just dinner. We’ll be back soon, okay?” I rest my hand on her shoulder reassuringly.  She looks Michael up and down, says nothing else, and makes her way to the living room. I give him an apologetic look, before we both quietly laugh.

I shut the door behind me and he walks me to his car. It was indeed a convertible like I heard Mama say. A baby blue one too. He opens the passenger side door for me, reaching for my hand to hold me stable as I seat myself. I smile at him and he shuts the door before returning to the driver’s side.

After about 10 minutes of driving through the city, we arrive outside a restaurant. The block is quiet and dimly lit besides the minor activity happening in the one building we’re heading towards. The small restaurant has one window that overlooks the few cars parked outside, however the glass is shaded by a curtain so I can’t make out its interior just yet.

The tires scrape against the freshly wetted gravel as he pulls the car into a parking spot and soon enough he’s exiting the car to walk to my door. “Shall we?” He offers his arm out to me.

I laugh nervously as I eye the building, taking his arm and walking towards the entrance. He pushes past the door and I stop dead in my tracks, now knowing why the area seemed so shady. “They got white people in here?” I whisper in a concerned tone.

“Yeah. It’s alright, Honey. They got joints like this all over the North. Ain’t nothin’ to be scared about now.” He places his hand over mine, guiding me further into the restaurant.

The decor is dull and low budget looking, but it’s to be expected from an integrated area. Surprisingly, no one turns to stare at us in horror as we enter, but I still make an effort to not make eye contact with anyone as we pass by the tables. I do notice a few other people of color in the corner of my eye, which eases my nerves.

We sit and order, talking over our drinks while the food is being cooked. “So, how long have you been singing?” He props his elbows on the table, leaning forward.

I scoff at the thought. “I haven’t, really. I mean, I sing around the house sometimes, but I’m performing for the first time at the end of the week.”

He raises his brows. “Really?”

I nod shyly. “I’m singing Saturday at Club Handy, if you’d like to come.” I offer, trying to be friendly, but in some ways hoping he’s busy that day.

He smiles. “I’d love to.” Oh, yay. “Bet you’re excited. I’ve heard Club Handy’s got some talented people there.” He says, taking a sip of his pepsi cola.

I play with a napkin on the table, chuckling to myself insecurely. “Yeah, that’s actually a part of the problem. I’m not as good as them.”

The waitress comes, placing our food in front of us. We thank her as she walks back to the kitchen.

His face forms a frown. “Now don’t be sayin’ all that. Every musician’s nervous at first and it doesn’t do them any good to think like that. You sang good last night.” He chuckles, thinking back to a memory of something. “I remember you and Elvis used to always dance and sing together. Thomas and I use to get so upset waitin’ on y’all to stop creepin’ on the bar. Oh man, I miss those days.”

My head snaps up at the mention of HIS name.

“Speaking of Elvis, you hear that new cat on the radio?” He asks.

Does… Does he not know…? “Yeah… I have. Can’t go anywhere without hearing it.” I trail off, immediately annoyed as I remember that damn song. 

He looks off into the distance as he thinks of something. “It’s strange. I ain’t never met another Elvis. I wonder what happened to that boy. Think it could be him? Poor little kid from Tupelo playing on the radio? Imagine that.” He laughs. “What was his last name anyway?”

I eye him, pondering with my spoon hanging from my lips. He really don’t know, do he? Do I tell him…? Nah.

I shrug. “I don’t remember.” He shrugs as well before taking a bite off his steak. I clear my throat, poking at my potatoes, deciding on a topic to move on to. “So, what about you? How’d you get into music?”

He chews, swallowing down his bite. “Met some kids in school. They introduced me to guitar and we started playing together for a while. Eventually, I moved on to selling records, but I still play with them every now and then. They came down with me here actually. I should introduce you to them. Might teach you a thing or two.”

I hum, not really knowing how to respond. He’s trying to make future plans. Despite growing up together, I don’t have much interest in getting to know his friends. Michael and I were never close. I’m convinced the only reason we ever spoke is because the other boys would always try to swing by my house. Our friendship was more of a convenience than anything.  Having that said, if he and his friends know music, it’s best for my future career that I stick around. Still, I’m shamefully not excited to spend more time with him. Ugh, I’m going to need dessert before I agree to anything else this man has to say.

I wave the waitress back over, ordering a chocolate ice cream and a cherry soda. Shortly after, she comes back with the items and places them in front of me. Nonchalantly, I pour the soda over the ice cream and take a spoonful, only then looking back at Michael. He watches me as if I’m the most insane person on this planet.

“What?” I ask, raising my spoon in the air. 

He just shakes his head with a smile. “Whatever makes you happy, beautiful.”

Normally a comment like that would make me blush, no matter who was saying it, but like I said earlier, there was just nothing there between us.

“You know my parents would have a fit if they found out I was in a place like this!”

“S’alright, Dixie. No one’s gonna know.”

A couple seats themselves at an empty table across from Michael and I. I look up from my sweet treat to eye the commotion. The woman seats herself in the booth, flattening out her fluffy, pink dress and watches her black haired date signal the waitress over. When her date turns back around, my heart drops.

I nearly choke on my ice cream when our eyes meet. He freezes in his booth and I snap my neck away, looking back towards Michael. My heart speeds and my palms begin to sweat as I try pretending to never have seen him, but I fail dismally.

The waitress stops by, placing a check on the table. Michael takes a look at it before patting his pockets. He pats around faster, which catches my attention in the meantime. “Damn, left my wallet in the car. I’ll be right back.” I mutter an ’okay’ to him, as he walks out the restaurant.

I bounce my leg, not knowing what to do with myself and the really big problem seated only 5 feet away from me. Unfortunately, Dixie, I guess her name is, has to get up to use the restroom at the same time Michael exits, leaving just the two of us alone.

I make an obvious effort not to look at him, but I’m quickly reminded of his carelessness as I see his head dart back and forth in the corner of my eye. The second Dixie turns the corner, he swiftly scoots into the seat across from me, his dumb grin plastered boldly on his face.

“Are you crazy?!” I whisper angrily.

“Is that cherry soda with chocolate ice cream? You still eat that? We used to love that when we was kids!” He takes Michael’s unused spoon and dips it into my bowl, taking a bite in an almost idiotically relaxed fashion as he ignores me. “Mmm, that’s good.” He says to himself. I can do nothing but stare and watch this boy, speechless, as I decide whether he’s either this brave or that stupid. He clears his throat, setting the spoon down and leaning back to get more comfortable in the booth. “S’been a while.” His voice deep and calm, but I catch undertones of something else.

I sit back in my own spot. “Yes. It has been.” I sternly agree, crossing my arms.

He sighs, dropping his act. “Look, I’m sorry about all that. I got caught up with all this music stuff. That’s all, Darlin.”

I scoff. “Would’ve been nice to know. And don’t call me ‘darlin’.” Partly because he didn’t deserve to call me that, partly because I was afraid certain feelings would come back from it. No one ignores me for 8 months and gets away with it. I’m determined to push him away even if he comes back crawling and begging!

“Honey, I’m sorry. I don’t know what else you want m-”

“Why’d you come over here? You came here with a gorgeous date. Why are you botherin’ me?” I cut him off.

He inspects the restaurant for a moment, trying to find the right words to say. “I, uh- Who… Who’s the fella you’re with?” He says with a sudden hushed tone.

I hold back a scoff, taking note of the insecure look in his eyes. “That’s Michael.”

He squints in confusion. “You’re dating Michael?!” He says, sounding almost disgusted.

I shrug. “He’s visiting from Chicago, lookin’ for a new singer to sign. We ran into each other and he asked me out.”

He looks down at the table, processing this information. “Do you…” He pauses, debating his next words. “Like… him…? I mean… do he treat ya well?”

I can’t help but smirk. “Jealous?”

“No!” He’s quick to defend himself. “Just makin’ sure my friends ain’t treated bad. That’s all.”

I nod. Of course he is. “Well, I’ll tell you one thing, he’s never ignored me for months or kissed me then ran off with another girl.”

His brows are fast to furrow in anger. He gestures to the door that Michael left out of. “Cause you ain’t done the same just now?”

I lean in, pressing my arms into the table as I feel my anger begin to rise. “How long you been datin’ her anyway? Was it before or after you kissed me?” I ask, as if any answer will ease my heart.

“Jealous?” He asks with a similar smirk I had only seconds ago.

“Just making sure I’m not getting treated bad.” I add mockingly.

He bites the inside of his cheek, eyes darkening and eyebrows furrowing. “I thought you and him ain’t never had nothin’ in common. Why the sudden change? What’s he do for himself anyway? Bet he ain’t never been on the radio before.” He says with a growing impatience.

I glare at him. Oh, I know he ain’t playing this game. “No, he just makes people that get on the radio. He’s a scout.” I reply calmly.

“I learned guitar, made myself a band.” He adds.

I challenge him right back.“So did he.”

“I make records.”

“He sells them and drives a convertible.”

He goes quiet, knowing fully good and well that his old delivery truck is parked outside this restaurant.

Normally, I couldn’t care less about these kinds of things, because his dumb ass should already know I’ve been crazy about him since he had nothing but a shack in Mississippi, but if he wanted to play this game then I’ll show him I can win. “Better go. Your girlfriend’s coming back, lover boy.” I put a heavy sarcastic emphasis on the last two words.

He twists his neck to check the area near the bathrooms before quickly jumping back over to his own table. He smiles hesitantly at Dixie while she sits across from him once again. They start talking, but I’m too annoyed with him to listen any further.

“Woo, okay. Sorry, I’m back.” Michael plops down in his seat, out of breath.

I give Michael a nice, cute smile, purposely arching my back while I lean forward on to the table to accentuate my curves, knowing someone else’s eyes were also on me.

“You know, it’s nice Sunbeam’s branching out to get new performers. That Tropicana club over on Thomas Street’s been giving him some competition these days. Have you decided what song you’re gonna sing on Saturday?” My eyes widen as Michael asks me this. Could he have said that any louder?

 I see Elvis’ head perk up at the mention of me singing this week. He doesn’t look over, but he goes abnormally quiet, meaning he was trying his best to listen in on us. Shit. “Um, I have a few ideas, but I don’t know yet.” I try my best to keep my voice low and quiet, but it’s no use.

He places the money on the table, so I take that as a sign to start gathering my things.

“Look at that. They gave me a dirty spoon. Never even used that.”

I snap my head up, seeing him hold up the spoon Elvis had in his mouth mere minutes ago. I gasp, faking surprise. “Nasty. Need a new dishwasher.” I say convincingly. He shakes his head in disappointment, placing the utensil back on the table before standing up. When Michael turns away, I glare at Elvis. He continues to examine the menu, pretending to pay me no mind but his lip curls nonetheless.

Michael puts his arm out for me to take and we head towards the door. I take one last look at Elvis. He watches me leave, deep in thought. During the car ride home, I couldn’t help but feel disappointed. My brain told me Elvis doesn’t deserve me after what he did. However, my heart wanted to jump across the table and kiss him in front of the whole damn restaurant while Michael and Dixie watched.

We pull up in front of my house and he puts the car in park. Awkwardly, I smile. “Well, thank you for dinner. I had a lovely time.”

He watches me for a moment, like he’s waiting for something, a kiss I assume. Instead, I pretend to not notice and exit the car to wave him goodbye. He suppresses his letdown and waves back. “Anytime. See you Saturday.”

I watch him drive away with a sigh. I should be focusing on singing right now, not all these stupid boys.

“Ooo, Honey! Who was that man? He looks tasty!”

I know my mama didn’t just say that.

I whip around to see Vickie in the doorway grinning widely at me, Ma standing just behind her as they wait for me. I run to the door, pushing Vickie inside. “Oh my God, will you hush? We got neighbors!” She giggles, holding her cheeks. “What are you doing here?”

“I told you I’d be over to help you with your singin’, but you didn’t tell me you had other plans.” She slyly smirks. “Luckily your mama kept me company while you was gettin’ it on.”

My jaw drops. “I was n-” I quickly turn to my mom. “I was not!”

Ma puts her hands on her hips and rolls her eyes, before heading upstairs. “I don't wanna here none. I’m goin’ to bed, so don’t be making all that noise now.”

I laugh, watching her disappear to her room. I sit on the couch with Vickie. She groans, eyeing my head. “You wore that headscarf on your date?” She reaches out and begins to untie it. For some reason, I don’t feel the need to stop her, but I was still hesitant of her reaction. “Dressin’ like a rich, white woman around these parts? What’s with you and this thing anyway? Shoulda put it up or som-” She pauses, eyeing my hair with the scarf now in her hand. “Is that natural?” I nod slowly, unsure what she’s thinking. “Damn. You know how many colored girls is spendin’ their life’s savings on hair like that?”

I furrow my brows in confusion. “They are?” I question.

She nods, placing the scarf on the coffee table. “Mmhmm. S’trending right now. You know Marilyn Manroe and all.” She sits back up, crossing her legs and putting her hands on her knee. “Sooo… who is he?” She asks with a big smile, eager to hear me talk.

I shake my head, attempting to hide my blush from her question. “His name’s Michael. He’s a boy I grew up with back in Mississippi.”

She nods, studying me with squinted eyes. “Mmm. How’d it go?”

I sigh in a clear unhappy way. “Can I tell you something, Vickie?” She immediately perks up at this, leaning in closer. “When I was little, I had this little group of friends, Michael was one, but we also had this other friend, call him… E. Michael had a crush on me, but… E and I… we were always close. I hadn’t seen either in years. Then Michael pops up out of nowhere and asks me out, but I’ve never really felt anything towards him and I don’t know what to do.”

She softens her eyes, placing her hand on top of mine to comfort me. “Aw, I’m sorry.”

“It gets worse.”

“Oh?”

“I saw E on a date at the same restaurant tonight.”

“Oh??”

I smile, continuing. “He didn’t seem to like Michael and I together, even came into my booth to talk to me when Michael left for a second, but he broke my heart in the past, so I barely feel bad.” I cross my arms, feigning stubbornness but my heart was dubious. “I did… in a way try to make him jealous though and, Lord, it felt good.” I guiltily admit. “Ugh! It’s not fair! I can’t get his dumb ass out of my head!” I say with a dramatic groan, falling back onto the couch.

She gasps, slapping my leg lightly. “Honey, you little player! I didn’t know you had it in ya. What are you gonna do?”

I prop myself on my elbows with a huff. “That’s the thing, I don’t know! I don’t even like Michael, but E… he’s always so hot and cold, and now I think he heard Michael and I talk about my show on Saturday, so both of them are probably going to be there. It’s gonna be a disaster. I don’t even have a song yet! I shouldn’t even perform.” I say sadly, spiraling down all my negative thoughts.

She sighs. “Honey, I say this as a friend,” She puts her hands on my shoulders. “You gotta pull yourself together, girl!” She shakes me back and forth as she speaks.

“Vickie!” I attempt to grab her hands.

She stops to look me dead in the face. “How badly do you want this boy, Honey?”

Now I’m very confused. “What?!”

She groans. “I said. How badly do you want that man?!” She asks more fiercely.

I pause. How badly do I want Elvis? I shut my eyes tightly, really not wanting to admit it out loud. “A lot.” I whisper.

“Say it!” She shouts, gripping my shoulders once more.

“I want him!” I shout back, surprised by my own volume.

She releases me proudly, snapping her finger. “Then make him fight for you.”

I fully sit up now, looking at her like she’s crazy. “What the hell are you talking about, Vickie?”

She takes on a mom voice, sitting up properly. “Honey. I’ve dealt with boys before, I’ve seen the cold feet, and the best way to get them is to show them you got other suitors waitin’ for you!” I immediately roll my eyes, thinking this will be a bad idea. Still, I remain silent, curious of what she has to say. “It’s simple. Men are competitors. Right now, he prolly thinks you’re sittin’ around, waiting for him to call, but you show him he’s got other competition and he’ll get so jealous that he’ll try to out do the other guy.” She smiles, acting as though she just shared some deep, hidden wisdom with me. But then, her smiles quickly drops as she remembers something. “Don’t take it too far now, he needs to keep hope that he has a chance. But you do it just right and that boy will come beggin’ to have you back!”

I played with the idea for a moment. I know it sounds dumb, I don’t wanna play games, but after seeing him tonight, I can’t help but admit how exciting her plan sounded; Teasing Elvis, making him jealous, watching him crawl to me. It’s all too tempting.

Vickie notices a menacing smirk grow on my face and sits back with pride, admiring her work. “We need to get you a nice dress too. We’re finding you somethin’ sexy.”

“What?!”

“You heard me. Ooo, you about to get that boy! You’ll see.”

.

.

.

- Tag List -

@ihrtmunson @felicityroth @mirandastuckinthe80s @queenslandlover-93

@tearupmyhead @chouetteschaussettes @il-giardino @theliterarybeldam​ @anangelwhodidntfall​

#elvis #elvis presley #elvis 2022 #elvis movie #elvis biopic #elvis x reader #elvis presley x reader #austin butler x reader #austin butler #black writers #black reader #black fanfiction #poc #oc fanfiction #oc #fanfic #fanfiction #elvis fanfic

[fandom-alley]

You're So Gorgeous | Part 2 - First Date

Summary: Spencer goes on his first date with the girl he met on a dating app that Penelope and Emily signed him up for. Pairing: Spencer Reid/OFC and Spencer & Friends Category: Fluff Warnings: like very small bau work mention stuff, kissing Word Count: 3.6k Part One AO3

“I can not believe you’re actually doing this.” Penelope said from her seat on Spencer’s worn leather couch. She looked over to Emily, who stood next to his impressive wall of books. Some stacked on top of others, shoved in this way and that way to make room. And there still wasn’t enough room, as evident by the piles and stacks of books littered throughout his apartment. But, where as some would see it as clutter or hoarding, the friends just saw it as pure Spencer. 

“Neither can I. Who knew that some random girl I picked on a dating app for you based solely on the picture of her hair, would become someone you’re actually interested in,” said Emily.

The two girls had shown up unannounced to Spencer’s apartment on the night of his first date to help him get ready. It hadn’t taken them long to realize that Spencer had been messaging back and forth with Avianna after their lunch at the cafe. When he got back from the morgue with Derek, they were on him in an instant, asking why he couldn’t stop smiling when he was just looking at a dead person. He couldn’t hold back and told them about their conversation. 

Now, exactly one week later and lots of luck having not been called out on a case, Spencer and Avianna were meeting for the first time to go on a date at an Italian restaurant of her choosing. Spencer was glad he didn’t have to make the decision on where to eat, because they might have just ended up with takeout on his living room floor, and he wanted to make a better impression than that.

“Some studies have shown that 0.6% of men find a match through Tinder. For woman, about 10%,” Spencer said from his bedroom, where he had left the door ajar to listen to the conversation, but not have two of his best friends see him naked and changing. 

“Was it Tinder that we signed you up for? I can’t remember,” Emily said. 

“Not sure. We switched to texting that night when I messaged her that I was done work,” said Spencer again from his room, shocking both Penelope and Emily.

“Wow, if she can make you, certified boy genius, forget something, than she must be really special,” Penelope quipped. 

Emily was about to make a witty remark as well, but the sound of Spencer’s door creaking open further made her hold her tongue. He walked out slowly, unsure and maybe a little bit nervous, by his outfit choice. It was a standard Spencer ensemble. His best pair of black pants, a deep purple long sleeve collard undershirt with a dark brown sweater vest on top, paired with a black tie. He had a black suit jacket to wear with it outside hanging over his arm, waiting to be put on for when he left his place.

Emily let out a whistle with an approving nod as she took in his attire. Penelope jumped up from the couch with some excited hand claps, also approving his look. She ran up to him to begin fussing with his tie and making sure his shirt was tucked in nicely. 

“You look so handsome,” Penelope said in his ear. Spencer felt his skin get warm from their attention. 

“It’s not too similar to what I always wear?” He asked, uncertain. 

“It’s important not to change who you are or what you like when you’re meeting someone new, Spencer. You’re always handsome, and she’s going to appreciate you no matter what,” said Emily. “Unless she doesn’t. In which case ditch her and come back here and we can watch that Russian movie you were telling me about the other week.”

Spencer chuckled at her attempt to be up lifting. Sure, he’d only been talking to Avianna through text for a week, but he was pretty sure she wouldn’t be the type of girl to see him standing by a restaurant and just turn around because his looks weren’t up to par. I guess that’s what first dates were for. To see if there’s any sort of real life connection there between two people. 

Their messages for the last week were on a range of different topics. One of them would usually start the conversation by asking how their day at work was, but quickly the boring mundane talk would disappear and they’d chat for hours about the most random of topics. Like plant species that Avianna would spot on one of her many hikes, or Spencer’s facts about Doctor Who and magic.

Spencer broke away from Penelope to put his shoes on by the front door. 

“I should go. We’re meeting outside the restaurant. I’d rather be the one waiting out there for her, as opposed to arriving and seeing her already standing there,” Spencer said. He started to nervously play with his hair, making sure that his unruly curls were situated just right. 

“Awe, it’s like watching my child go on his first date,” Penelope cooed.

“Don’t worry. We won’t be here when you get back,” Emily winked.

“Oh. Well, you can stay as long as you want though. I really won’t mind if you’re both here when I get home,” Spencer said.

“Never mind, pretty boy. You go have fun, we will talk about how it went tomorrow,” Emily said. She pushed him out the door with a final goodbye.

Spencer arrived to the restaurant early, as planned. He didn’t see Avianna standing around, for which he was glad. It really would have made a bad impression if he had let her stand alone outside because he was running late. He gave her a courtesy text to let her know he was outside, and then tried his best to lean casually against the wall while he waited. However, three seconds after that he straightened up again. Leaning wasn’t good for the spine and he was pretty sure he looked like a creep. 

He did not have to wait long for his date to arrive. Just a couple minutes after his text, he watched as she stepped out of a taxi, thanking the driver. Spencer felt his breath catch in his throat. She was even more beautiful in person. Her long hair was pulled back in a French braid, resting over her shoulder. She wore a crisp white top tucked into a pair of high waisted beige checkered pants, her outfit tied together with a long black peacoat. It was simple, but it was beautiful, he thought. He made his way over to her with a wide smile.

“Avianna? Hi. I’m Spencer.”

She pulled him in instantly for a hug, which he hesitantly returned. He wasn’t the best at physical contact with people he just met, but he was drawn in by her aroma. Something floral, like lavender. 

“Sorry, that was a bit forward,” she said in a rush, pushing him away from the hug. “I went over this moment in my head so many times and I didn’t want us to just give some awkward smiles to each other before going inside.”

“That’s okay. It was a nice hug,” Spencer reassured her. 

“It was, wasn’t it? Wow, you are so tall,” she said, looking him up and down with bright eyes. She was probably a foot shorter than him. “And you look fantastic. Purple is a really great colour on you.”

“Oh, uh, thank you,” he breathed out. “You look very beautiful.”

Spencer was pretty sure he could see a blush forming on her cheeks, but she diverted the attention from herself and led them inside. The restaurant was decently busy, but not too crowded to be overwhelming. The sound of peoples cutlery clinking together as they ate was only barely audible over the soft instrumental music they had playing throughout the dining room. 

The hostess led them to a booth next to the window, placed their menus down and took their drink orders. Both of them asked for water, not even a peak at the wine or cocktails list that sat next to them on the table. Spencer didn’t want to comment on why she was opting for no alcohol, but he was kind of glad she did. He would never bring it up to his team, but sometimes going out with them for food and drinks was a bit hard and overwhelming when all of them drank alcohol besides him. 

They were comfortably quiet as they looked over their menus. Spencer worried for a second that maybe he and Avianna had already talked about everything they could possibly talk about over text messages, but those thoughts were quickly swept under the rug as she looked up at him from behind her menu with a sparkle in her eye.

“Not that anyone is paying any attention to us, but if they were, it would be so obvious that we’re both on a first date,” she laughed.

Spencer laughed softly as well before asking her to clarify what she meant.

“Just that, from an outsiders perspective, we both probably look so nervous. I mean, I can’t totally speak for you, but I’m very nervous. Maybe I’m just the one who would look like they’re on a first date. You actually look totally cool, calm, and collected.”

Spencer couldn’t help but give a real laugh this time, his eyes crinkling as he did. She rambles more than I do when nervous, he thought to himself.

“I’m definitely nervous,” he said. “I’ve never used a dating app before, and it’s been a long time since I’ve been on a real date. Actually, a couple of my friends set the account up for me without me knowing. Emily, my friend, sent you the first message on the app, but the rest was all me.”

“I’m so glad they did. Remind me to thank them if I ever meet them. I’m also so glad you answered my stupid little math question,” she laughed. Spencer wanted to listen to her laugh forever. It was so light and infectious.

“I was meaning to ask what that was all about. Emily nearly choked on her water when I asked if it was a normal thing to answer before getting to talk to someone,” he smirked.

“It’s kind of stupid,” she said, avoiding eye contact and looking back at the menu.

“I’m sure it’s not that bad.” 

Avianna grimaced, but started to explain anyways, “I kind of set my account up as a joke with my friends one night. None of us have ever been in any kind of long lasting relationship, and we were having mocktails night just goofing around when we all set up an account to see what was out there. But when we all instantly were getting matches with some of the same guys in our area, we knew people were just using the site as an easier way to try and hook up with anyone.”

“Hook up with someone?” Asked Spencer, a little unsure about what that terminology meant.

“Like have sex,” Avianna clarified for him.

“Got it,” he said through a cough.

“So yeah. We decided to ask everyone who matched and messaged us to answer some kind of skill testing question. Kind of like what they make you do when you win a prize online. Most of the guys would just never respond, and the few that did always gave some bullshit answer like ‘I could love you harder than this math question is.’” She lowered her voice to imitate a man.

“They thought that math question was hard?” Avianna laughed at Spencer’s question, which made him smile.

“Apparently they did. But not you,” she looked at him across the table with a small shy smile.

Their waiter came by to take their orders, both of them opting for the classic best seller, spaghetti and meat balls. The two of them fell into a comfortable conversation, further melting away Spencer’s worries about not having anything to discuss in person. The conversation flowed so easily between the two, Spencer was sure that if anyone looked their way now, they would no longer look like a pair on a first date. More like a couple just going out for dinner.

They chatted a little about work, about Avianna’s job at a bank, but they kept it light. Because talking about Spencer’s job with the FBI could sometimes bring the mood down. Mostly they just continued to get to know each other. Some of the stuff they messaged about got brought up again in person, like her love for hikes ant the outdoors and Spencer’s dislike for extreme physical activity. But it was nice to hear the excitement about her interest’s in person this time. He could study the way her eyes lit up when talking about a cool bird she spotted on her last hike, and the way the corner of her mouth would tilt down when she mentioned how she didn’t like the way someone would disrespect nature on the trails by leaving garbage and breaking off tree branches. 

Spencer would chime in with facts about over tourism and then their conversation would switch to destinations they would love to visit some day. He of course mentioned how much he traveled around the country for work already, but that he would love to spend time in Europe.

When their meals were finished and Spencer paid the bill, Avianna said she promised to pay next time. It made his heart beat a little quicker knowing she wanted to spend more time with him. 

As they made their way outside the restaurant, Spencer really didn’t want to just send her away in a taxi and head home, so he suggest they go for a walk along the waterfront. She happily agreed. He had a small inner battle with himself, on if he should hold her hand or not. On the one side, hand’s held lots of germs and sometimes he would even tell people it would actually be safer to kiss, than to shake hands. But on the other, he just spent an hour chatting with this beautiful girl, and he was feeling a little bit desperate to get closer to her. So eventually he reached down and grasped her hand in his.

Avianna looked up at him after he did, with a pleased smile on her face. He was more than happy with his decision. 

“So did you grow up around here?” She asked him as they strolled along a nice path near the water. It was a little breezy and cold, but something about the heat being shared between their hands made Spencer warm inside.

“No, actually. I grew up in Las Vegas.”

“No way. That’s pretty cool. Did you go to casinos a lot?”

“Yes. To the point where I got banned from most of them for counting cards,” he confessed. 

“Shut up, you did not,” she laughed.

“I am! From Laughlin and Pahrump as well.”

“Remind me never to bet against you then,” she said with a squeeze to his hand that he returned.

“Are you banned from anywhere?” He asked with a joking smile.

“My sisters bedroom, for stealing her clothes when I was a teenager,” she joked back.

The pair made their way to a small park that was empty now that the sun had set. As they were crossing a small bridge over a pond, Avianna stopped in the middle of it so she could lean over the edge and look at the fish. 

“Did you know that in every drop of pond water there is a microcosm of life? And a lot of ponds are actually home to some rare species,” Spencer informed her.

“So don’t drink the pond water?”

“Probably better to wait for filtered water, yes.”

Avianna stood up straight to look at him.

“Can I kiss you?” She blurted out. It took him by surprise, and she could see that on his face. “I’m sorry. That was really forward, it’s only the first date. We can wait for, like, the third or fourth date, if you want.”

When he’d recovered from the shock of not only her wanting a kiss but the mention of a possible fourth date, he replied, “Actually, I really appreciate how to the point you are. It leaves nothing to the imagination.”

“Oh, shit,” she said. “Should I be leaving things to the imagination?” 

“No, I’m sorry. That came out wrong,” he shook his head. “I meant, your forwardness means I’m not overthinking things. Wondering if you want me to call you back tomorrow or wait for a few days. It’s nice, to hear it right out in the open. I’m just not used to it.”

“Well, I’m glad. Because I’ve always been one to say what I feel or ask for what I want. Also, just to be clear, I’m totally okay with the answer no. It won’t hurt my feelings. I do want a second date, though,” she pointed her finger at him to make sure he understands that point.

“I want that as well,” he chuckled. Then he bit his bottom lip in contemplation, before making a decision. “I wouldn’t mind that kiss as well.”

“You do?” She asked and waited for him to nod his head. “Can I kiss you?” She asked again.

“Please,” he breathed out. 

They met each other half way. Spencer bent his head down, and Avianna got up on the tips of her toes. As their lips met, Spencer wrapped his arms around her waist to hold her steady, pulling her in closer and lifting her a little higher. Avianna moved her hands from his shoulders to the back of his neck, where she gently ran her fingers through his hair. Spencer took a step backwards until he was leaning on the wall of the bridge. He couldn’t believe that his was happening. That he was kissing someone on a first date, and that she was as beautiful as she is. And that she was just as into it as him. 

Eagerly, Spencer nipped at her bottom lip, kissing her harder when she let out a gasp of pleasure. He left one arm around her waist to keep her in place, and moved his other so that he could cup the side of her face with his hand. Gently, he rubbed his thumb along her cheekbone, before moving the hand to get a hold on her hair. He used his grip to pull her head back, exposing her neck. He trailed kisses along her jaw then down to suck on the tender part of her neck, making her gasp yet again.

“Oh my,” she gasped in pleasure as Spencer no doubt left a mark on her. “We might have to stop before we expose ourselves to someone in public.” 

Spencer nodded his head in agreement from his place at her neck, but he didn’t stop. Instead he moved back to her lips, in another earth shattering kiss. Spencer wasn’t quite ready for it to be over yet. They moved together like one, breathing each other in. This close to her, all Spencer could smell was that lavender again, and it went straight to his head, making him feel drunk on her kiss.

He let out a shudder when Avianna curled her fingers in his hair. It felt so nice to have someone in his arms. Spencer started to slow down when he heard a dog bark in the distance. He pulled away to rest his forehead against hers, going in for a small peck every few seconds because he just couldn’t believe how lucky he felt to have found her. He really did owe it to his friends.

Finally, when his heart rate went back to normal, he loosened his grip and lowered her down so her feet were flat on the bridge once again. She kept her arms around his neck, looking up at him in wonderment. 

“Sorry, I think I messed up your braid,” he said when he noticed strands of hair sticking out where they were once contained.

“That’s alight. It was worth it,” she said, then she took out the elastic and let her hair fall down in waves around her shoulders.

Unable to help himself, Spencer reached forward to run his hands through her hair. Then he used his grip to pull her head back, bending down a slightly uncomfortable amount to kiss her quickly once again.

“Sorry,” he said bashfully, then pulled his hands away from her.

“Don’t apologize. That was amazing, you can kiss me whenever you want.”

Slowly they started walking again, hand in hand, as they made their way back to the main road where Avianna called herself a taxi. 

“Spencer, I had such a wonderful time tonight. I am on the moon happy,” she said to him.

“Me too. I would love to do this again.”

“How about tomorrow for breakfast?” She asked right as her taxi pulled up.

“It’s a date,” he said. Like earlier in the evening, Avianna pulled him in for a hug. Except this time, he tightly hugged her back and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek.

“I can’t wait,” she said before hopping into the taxi. Spencer watched with a massive smile as it drove down the road and made a right turn, disappearing from sight. 

He turned around to start walking back to his apartment when his phone dinged from his pocket. 

Avianna - ❤️ ❤️ ❤️

Yup. He really owed it to Penelope and Emily.

#spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x original female character #spencer reid/original female character #spencer reid/ofc #criminal minds fanfiction #alleys writing

[emotionalcadaver]

The Doctor Is In

Fandom: The Dark Knight Trilogy

Pairing: Jonathan Crane x OC

Summary: Vanessa has a problem that only Jonathan can help her solve.

Series: Part 8 of The Shadow Game

Word Count: 3,539

Notes: Warnings for smut, semi public sex, and slight choking kink. I want you all to know that I giggled for about five minutes when I came up with the title for this.

Main Masterlist

Previous Part • Next Part

They worked long hours, usually not getting home until deep into the night. Often they were both too exhausted to do much more than brush their teeth and collapse into bed. It was fortunate that they shared a workplace, or else they probably wouldn’t have gotten to see each other much at all.

Vanessa fiddled with her pen, teeth worrying at her bottom lip. She shifted in her seat, office quiet save for the soft ticking of the clock on the wall. Usually she didn’t mind the ticking, but today the sound made her feel jittery and annoyed. Crossing and uncrossing her legs, she tried to get comfortable. Her clothes felt too hot, the fabric a harsh scratch against her skin. Shaky fingers picked up the file she had been going through, trying to force her mind to concentrate on the little black words typed out onto the paper. She only got halfway through the third line before her mind once again began to wander, filling her head with lewd suggestions that caused her to rub her thighs together. Flinging the file back down onto her desk, she leaned back in her chair, giving up trying to focus.  

Perhaps it had been a longing to recapture some of the spontaneity that had been lost in the years they had spent together, or perhaps it was simply because she had woken up that morning so unfathomably horny she could barely stand it. And no amount of looking over a patient's files or filing reports could take her mind off of the wet ache between her thighs.  

She glanced back over at the clock on the wall, ran the numbers through her head, index finger tapping in time with the ticking of the clock against the surface of her desk.

Fuck it. 

She stood sharply from her chair and walked swiftly from her office, stopping only a moment to lock the door behind her before she was moving down the hallway towards where the chief administrator's office was located. The door was heavy as she pushed it open just enough to slip inside, kicking it closed behind her and turning the lock into place. 

Jonathan was bent over his desk, scribbling away at something, eyes snapping up when she opened the door, annoyed, undoubtedly, at whoever had walked into his office without knocking. The harshness in them softened when he saw it was her, glacial blue melting into the soft color of the ocean. He tilted his head, setting down his pen as he leaned back in his chair. A few strands of dark hair had fallen to curl against his forehead and he pushed them back into place with a pale hand. Vanessa swallowed hard, eyes trained on those long, clever fingers. She wanted to settle herself in his lap and ride him so hard that he couldn’t even remember his own name. Or maybe she could throw him onto the couch positioned against the wall in front of his desk, hold him close until she was unable to tell where she ended and he began.

She strode across the room to him, barely giving him enough time to let out a startled “what–” before she was situated in his lap and kissing him.

He stiffened for only a brief moment in surprise at her sudden movements before he melted into her. Spindly arms wrapped around her waist, plush lips parting immediately to kiss back just as deeply. Huh. It seemed that she wasn’t the only one who had recently grown sexually frustrated after all.    

Her own small, slim fingers traced over the shape of his jaw, brushing along his neck before they came to rest on his chest, palm planted flat there to feel the warmth of him even through the layers of the sweater and button-down shirt he wore. One of Jonathan’s hands wound through her hair, carefully removing the tie and pins to let it fall in a waterfall of thick black waves down her back. The kiss began to grow in desperation, hands bunching in hair and fabric, the chair creaking beneath them. Jonathan let out a low groan against her lips, and she realized that she had begun to unconsciously grind herself down onto him. A soft moan of her own slipped out at the feeling of the growing bulge in his pants pressing against her.    

Their kiss broke, cheeks pressed together as they panted. Vanessa petted a hand through his dark hair before removing his glasses with careful fingers, setting the delicate frames gently onto the surface of the desk behind her. He blinked up at her, those blue eyes even more intense without the barrier of glass between them as they bored into her soul, peered into her mind. She tilted her head, lips coming to brush over his ear.

“I have a problem,” she murmured. Jonathan visibly shuddered, an eyebrow quirking as his lips twitched upwards.

“Is that so?”

“Mmhm,” she drew out the last syllable as teasingly as she dared. He continued to look at her with those fond piercing eyes, leaned back casually in his chair, looking utterly relaxed and composed. Here she was about to jump out of her skin, the arousal and pent up frustrations in the pit of her stomach making it impossible to focus on anything, and he was sitting there looking gorgeous and fully put together. Even with her settled in his lap with his large erection pressed against her. And if the way his eyes sparked was an indication, he planned to toy with her before he gave her what she wanted. 

“And what exactly can I do to help you with this…problem?” he licked his lips, looking at her in a way that was near wolfish. Vanessa considered him for a moment, weighing her options in her mind, thought back, suddenly, to the insistent ticking of the clock in her own office. As much as she would like to continue to play and tease with him, she had neither the time nor the patience for either. Instead she growled in frustration and dove forward, kissing him in a way that was utterly frantic.

He captured her in his arms, wrapping them around her waist, practically crushing her to him. Hands tore insistently at each other’s clothes, wanting them gone but not willing to bother with undressing. She rode her hips down into him, feeling him meet her movements with his own desperate ruts until they were effectively dry humping against each other.    

Jonathan trembled beneath her and she was struck with the realization that, while he might’ve been much better at hiding it than she was, the man was just as needy. His fingers flexed where they had come to land on her waist, holding her in place as he rolled his hips upwards against her. Vanessa let out a sound that could have been a sob. He smirked and tilted his head to the side again.

“Is this what you want?” he rasped out, another thrust and grind making her whimper, nodding wantonly. One hand remained planted firmly on her hip while the other wound in her hair, tugging lightly to encourage her to bend backwards, so her chest was thrusted up towards his face. The top few buttons on her shirt were popped open by pale fingers, and then Jonathan’s face was tilted down to press a kiss to the now exposed skin, following along the hem of her bra, and nuzzling against her. His pale hand wrapped briefly around her throat, squeezing ever so slightly and making her core clench almost painfully in need.  

“Please,” she hadn’t even meant for the world to slip out. Jonathan’s eyebrows rose up and he leaned back, eyes half amused and half very aroused.

“What was that?”

Had it been any other situation she would have snarked back at him, but she was fairly certain that if he didn’t fuck her right now she was going to explode, her pride nowhere to be found.

Oh, she was never going to hear the end of this. 

“Please, fuck me,” it was soft and breathy, coming out in a way that could only be described as begging. Something feral lit up behind Jonathan’s eyes, his pupils blown wide as he lunged forward and kissed her again.  

A large hand palmed eagerly at her clothed breasts, Vanessa’s own hands fumbling to help him undo the final few buttons on her shirt, so that he could slide his warm hand in past the material of her bra to run a thumb over her nipple.

“My beautiful Nes,” his voice was barely above a whisper. “I’m going to take care of you.”

“Jonathan–” she croaked out, hips jerking against him.

“We have to–shit–we have to be quiet,” he breathed out as her hand suddenly cupped him through his pants, fingers massaging over his stiffening length. He turned his head to kiss her again. It felt like his hands were everywhere on her all at once, both soothing and igniting the fiery need for his touch. She sank her teeth into his bottom lip in a savage, demanding bite and he snarled at her, suddenly jerking and moving, hands grabbing her thighs to hold her steady against him as he stood. Vanessa scrabbled at his shoulders, more in surprise than out of any fear that he would ever drop her. He carried her from his chair to the couch, settling her on her back across the cushions with him on top of her, body slotted perfectly between her thighs. 

His eyes flickered down her body, a light tisk on his lips. “My poor Nessa. So needy and I’ve barely even touched you yet.”

“Jonathan, please. Please.”

He purred at her begging, body curling over hers, long finger stroking her cheek. “Shh, love. I know; it’s alright,” he kissed the cheek he had been caressing, surprisingly tender despite the devilish look in his eyes. “I’m going to make you feel better.”

He undid the fastenings on her pants quickly, pulled them down her legs and then he was kissing up them, slipping her thighs up and over his shoulders.

She had to bite down hard on her bottom lip to avoid letting out a loud moan as that wonderful silver tongue of his slid over her. Clenching one hand in his hair while the other palmed at her own breast, her eyes closed in bliss. In the back of her mind, however, that pesky little clock was still ticking, and she wanted his cock in her before their time was up.

She shouldn’t have been worried, though, as Jonathan set to work feasting on her urgently, tongue caring for her clit while two long fingers entered her and began to pump insistently. Vanessa shuddered as he worked her over, so pent up that it only took a few careful licks and pumps of his lovely fingers to have her already teetering dangerously close to an orgasm. A few more sucks to her clit, his fingers crooked just so as they moved, and her orgasm rolled over her in sudden, overwhelming waves, head spinning while she clung to him.

He gave her a moment to come down, crawling back on top of her and nuzzling at her cheek. At some point he had lost his sweater, leaving him in only a rumpled white button down and dress pants. Turning her head to kiss him lazily, her hands fumbled with his belt and zipper. His hips shifted, helping her to push them down just far enough to free his hard and weeping cock. The sound he made in his throat when she wrapped her hand around him and began to stroke could only be described as desperate. 

Guiding him to her entrance, she let go when his own hand took over and instead gripped his shoulders. Her body trembled as he ran his cock through her folds, collecting the wetness gathered there. Her previous orgasm had done little to quench her desperate thirst for him. She needed him in her; needed him to fill that empty space inside of her or she was sure she was going to die, or have what little was left of her sanity crumble away into nothingness.

“Jonathan,” she whispered. He gripped her face with one hand, forcing her to look at him as he finally nudged against her entrance.

“Quiet,” he reminded her and she nodded, the combination of his stern blue eyes on her and the deep rasp of his voice making her clench around nothing. He kissed her as he sunk into her, lips muffling their combined soft groans. The inexplicable feeling of him stretching her wide, filling her so completely, made her almost want to sob in relief. Once he was fully sheathed he hovered over her patiently, waiting for her to give him the go-ahead that she was adjusted enough for him to start moving.  

“Vanessa,” Jonathan whispered, a hand braced on the armrest of the couch above her head for stability, the other brushing hair out of her face before fluttering to trace the shape of her lips. His hips began to roll in deep, measured thrusts, and all the while he continued to softly murmur her name. With his eyes boring into hers, dark hair falling from where it had been pushed back to rest against his forehead, cheeks flushed, and plush lips parted, Vanessa wasn’t sure if he looked more like an angel or the devil. Her hands traced along the lean shape of his arms, running along his chest and collarbone. He often reminded her a bit of a bird; delicate, slender, and beautiful in the way he was formed.

She slipped one hand up under the hem of his shirt, and when his thrusts began to increase in force, she dug her nails hard into the skin of his back and raked down, no doubt leaving angry red scratches. Jonathan made an animalistic noise that could only be described as utterly feral. Vanessa smirked, stretching up to suck a mark into his collarbone. Her Jonathan so did love it when she left her marks on him.

His movements were growing more wild, fucking her so hard she couldn’t have come up with a single coherent thought if she’d wanted to. Her head spun, dizzy with pleasure, holding him tight to her as she tried to match the frantic rhythm he had set. Her core clenched tight around him, pulled a raw grunt from his throat, and then those long, wonderful fingers were between her legs again, rubbing over her clit. Her legs jumped from their place wrapped around his waist and her hands scrabbled at his chest, pulling at his half undone shirt like she could somehow get him even close to her. Jonathan kissed her savagely, all teeth and hungry tongue as he ravaged her. All the while that long, thick cock continued to pump in and out of her.  

“Close,” she choked out in warning, feeling the beginnings of her orgasm swell up in the pit of her stomach. Jonathan nodded, shifting his hips ever so slightly and–

She barely managed to catch the cry in her throat by biting at his shoulder, his cock rubbing up against her g-spot with every stroke. A strangled sound left Jonathan, eyes heavily lidded, panting. His fingers and cock played her like a violin, working flawlessly together. Her hand clapped over her mouth a moment before she came, muffling the loud, uncontrollable moan that left her throat as her orgasm washed over her. Jonathan only lasted a few more thrusts, hips pressing against hers as his cock twitched and then he came and came and came inside of her. Vanessa barely managed to slap her hand over his mouth as well to contain what would undoubtedly have otherwise been a particularly massive moan.

Jonathan slumped forward on top of her, body twitching against hers as he rode out the last remnants of his orgasm. His cheek pressed to her forehead as they both panted, bodies a bit sweaty and thoroughly rumpled. Soft lips pressed affectionately to her temple, before he winced as he pulled out, readjusting so that they could lay beside each other on the couch. Vanessa sighed happily, allowing her head to rest on his chest while she snuggled into his arms. The man blinked at her lazily, eyes sated and satisfied; no doubt he had needed that just as much as she did, if the amount in which he had just came was any indication. His fingers carded gently through her hair before tracing along her cheekbone. 

“Feel better?” his voice was still a low rasp. She snorted a bit, turned her head to kiss his fingertips.

“Yes, Doctor Crane.”

He poked her in the shoulder, eyes narrowed playfully at her snark. 

“Don’t ever think that I’ve heard you beg quite like that before.”

She felt her cheeks flush and burrowed her face in his neck to hide from his amused eyes. “Shut up.”

He laughed, arms tightening around her. “I’m not complaining.”

“Mm,” she pressed a kiss to the bite she had left on his shoulder. They remained there for a few more moments, just holding each other before Jonathan checked his watch and groaned.

“I have an appointment in seven minutes,” he said with no small amount of regret. Vanessa nodded, opening the eyes she had closed while basking in their shared warmth. They sat up on the couch, shared a look and then a soft laugh as they took in the state of themselves: both half undressed, the clothes that weren’t scattered over the office thoroughly rumpled. Jonathan reached for the box of tissues on the table next to the couch, took a few for himself and then offered the box to her. She cleaned herself up carefully, watching as Jonathan stood, refastening his pants and buttoning up his shirt. She didn’t miss the way that his hand grazed over the love bite she had left on him, nor the small smile that twitched at his lips. Her own, somewhat unsteady fingers worked to refasten the buttons on her shirt, pulling her underwear and pants back up. Jonathan was looking around the office, squinting a bit.

“Glasses are on the desk,” she offered helpfully.

“Ah. Thanks,” he slipped them back on, blinking as his eyes readjusted. Trying to smooth down her clothes, Vanessa stood, legs still a bit shaky as she stooped to pick up his sweater crumpled up on the ground and handed it to him. She readjusted his tie after he pulled it on, his own hands smoothing his hair back into place. For a moment she considered trying to put her hair back up into its bun from earlier, but there was no mirror in his office and she frankly couldn’t be bothered; instead simply scooping up the pins and hair tie deposited on his desk and dumping them into her pocket. She turned to find Jonathan shoving a few files into his briefcase before shrugging on the suit jacket folded over the top of his chair. He looked unfairly composed and put together for someone who had just had mind blowing sex on their office couch less than ten minutes ago. 

 He strode over to her, fingers smoothing down her hair and readjusting the collar of her shirt for her. He cradled her cheek, her hand coming up to cover his, thumb stroking along his knuckles. She allowed her head to rest more heavily against his palm for a moment and smiled softly. 

“Let’s leave early tonight,” he said, eyes suddenly glowing almost mischievously. Vanessa let out a mock gasp.

“Jonathan Crane! Are you suggesting that we play hooky!?”

Jonathan snorted and rolled his eyes. “I’m pretty sure hooky only applies if you skip out on the whole day.”

“Well, I don’t know. You see, my boss is kind of a hard-ass about that sort of thing…”

His eyes narrowed at her playfully, arm going to wrap around her waist. She giggled, hands resting on his chest.

“I think he might be willing to make an exception. Just this once.”

Vanessa laughed, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I love you.”

His eyes softened, and she was fairly certain that he had just internally melted into an affectionate puddle. He bent, lips soft against hers in a kiss that was quick but couldn’t quite be described as a peck. “I love you too,” he kissed her again, clearly not wanting to leave her. But for now at least, they both needed to get back to work.

“I’ll see you after your appointment,” she promised, internally cringing at the thought of the mountain of paperwork she still had to get through. He nodded and let her go. Following him to the door, she did a quick glance over of the room to make sure they hadn’t left any evidence of their tryst behind. 

“Ready?” Jonathan asked, hand hovering over the lock on the door. She nodded and he gave her one last soft smile before he turned the deadbolt, and together they walked out into the hall.   

Thank you for reading! Please consider leaving a comment, reblog, or like. I always appreciate feedback and love getting the opportunity to interact with you and hear your thoughts!

Previous Part • Next Part 

Series: Part 8 of The Shadow Game  

Main Masterlist  

#vanessa sullivan #vanessa sullivan x jonathan crane #jonathan crane x oc #jonathan crane #the dark knight trilogy #my ocs #fanfiction #rewrites #the doctor is in #smut #my fanfiction

[separatist-apologist]

Last Young Renegade

Summary: A war on the continent is looming. A Death God approaches, his curse slowly unravelling. A firebird screams through the night.

And Elain Archeron can see it all.

Read More: Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | AO3

Chapter Summary: Hands, like secrets, are the hardest thing to keep from you

“Don’t. Move,” Lucien ordered, his body pressing her into the ground. Elain squirmed, trying desperately to free herself from the frigid snow and failing miserably. Lucien caged her against him, head pointed through the trees at some danger she couldn’t see. 

“Lucien,” she breathed, clawing at his tunic. “Lucien, please—”

His hand came to her mouth roughly, silencing her plea. She’d seen this all before. When? Remember! Her mind screamed desperately, writhing to keep him from doing what fate demanded. She bit at skin, tears sliding down her cheek to pool against his gloved hand. 

Don’t do this, please don’t do this—

Light flooded the dark, pouring from Lucien’s body like he’d become a living God, the sun itself. Writhing darkness demanded this sacrifice, that he unravel this spell. In the distance, a man's voice screamed for Lucien to stop. She didn’t recognize it, didn’t know who called for him. Elain broke free of his hand on her face.

“Lucien, stop—”

Power radiated around them, erupting like a volcanic blast. It was too much—Lucien was only one man. 

“Run,” he gasped, fingers curling in the dirt. The small part of him that wasn’t living sun was composed of dying flame. Elain reached for his face, fingers burning when they touched. 

“I won’t leave you.”

“Go,” he shoved, his body shuddering. The wind picked up, swirling around the pair of them. 

“You’ll die.”

Lucien’s face shifted and morphed, back into the shadowed, fanged darkness she’d seen before. He laughed, the sound high pitched and cruel. “You better run, Elain. He’s coming for you—”

“ELAIN!”

Elain jerked, not of her own accord. This time, instead of standing at the top of a terrifying drop she’d been attempting to crawl into the fireplace. Her nightgown had caught fire for the briefest of moments before Lucien shuttered it, holding her tight against his chest. 

“What are you dreaming about?” he demanded. 

“Nothing.”

“Liar,” he snarled, dragging her back to bed, arms still firm around her. She didn’t protest or pull away, not when he all but dumped her back to bed, his body close enough to touch. “Are they dreams or are they visions, Elain?”

“I don’t know,” she whispered. “Nightmares, I think.” After all, that same face had appeared twice now. “Visions feel like memories…” and her dreams felt real, as if they were happening while she was in them. 

Lucien reached for her face, sighing softly. She let him tuck a piece of hair behind her ear, comforted by the gesture. Hold me.

“Do you need anything?”

“A glass of water?” she asked, hating how small her voice sounded. Lucien nodded, rising from the bed to track it down. By the time he returned, glass in hand, Elain had settled just enough to not beg him to wrap her back up in his arms. 

“Were you having nightmares at home?”

“Sometimes,” she murmured. Not like this. It pacified him enough to lay back against the bed. 

“I’m thinking I should tie you to me,” he mumbled. “Before you hurt yourself.”

“That’s not necessary,” she whispered, turning her back to him, but who knew. Maybe it was. Lucien had killed the fireplace, leaving the room to be warmed solely by him and his magic. How long could he sustain that, she wondered? 

As it turned out, Lucien couldn’t the moment he fell into a deep sleep, a fact Elain learned when she woke up with her head buried in his shirted chest and his arms wrapped around her so tightly there was no possible escape. She didn’t want to. His scent enveloped her, lulling her back to sleep. She nuzzled closer and wondered if they couldn’t just have this while maintaining their polite, occasionally combative distance during the day. 

“Elain,” Lucien whispered, his voice rough from sleep. “Do you intend to stay in bed all day?”

“Can I?” she asked without thinking about what she was asking. After all, he was still holding her against his body, hadn’t moved an inch despite being awake. There was no pretending they weren’t laying together like this.

“I’m supposed to go hunting with Gunnar.”

Right. 

Carefully, Elain rolled out of his grasp, certain she felt his own hesitation. “I wasn’t thinking.”

“Did you have any more nightmares?” he asked, stretching his body now that he was free of their embrace. 

“No.”

“Interesting,” was all Lucien said before he rose from the bed and vanished into the bathroom. He was in there long enough Elain abandoned her own plan to bathe, deciding she’d just wait for night to fall. 

Dressed and up for the day, Elain skipped the dining hall, still exhausted and a little raw from the night before. Let Lucien work a little of his magic on the hunting trip. She was certain he’d come back victorious and handsome and all the women would fawn all over him until—

“Elain?”

Arina poked her head from the library door, beckoning Elain to join her. “Gunnar is prowling this morning. Don’t let him catch you alone.” It was the first words Arina had spoken to her since she’d arrived. Elain closed the door softly to the library, surprised to find they were the only ones inside. Unlike the rest of the palace, with its bright, open windows and glimmering surfaces, the library was dark and filled with very old, very polished wood. Arina was the brightest light in the room, her dress a vibrant green despite the otherwise dim surroundings. 

“He’s grabby,” Arina added with irritation. 

“He asked for someone pretty,” Elain told her. Arina rolled her eyes.

“He should look at his own wife, then. She would be back home.”

“This whole court makes no sense to me,” Elain admitted. “Everyone is constantly fighting or…”

“Or fucking,” Arina supplied with amusement. “Yes, I’ve noticed that too. Not that Day Court doesn’t have its moments, but it’s not encouraged with quite so much quiet cruelty as it is between Hilda and Gunnar.”

“You’re not tempted?”

Arina scoffed. “I’ve slept with Helion,” she said, clearly proud of that accomplishment. “Have you seen him?”

Elain frowned. “Once, I think?”

“You should come by and look again. Not one male here can measure up with their clothes on.”

“Maybe they have some hidden talent,” Elain dismissed, trying to recall how they’d gotten on this topic to begin with. Arina’s eyes sparkled, her body swaying as she walked through the stacks to her little workstation far in the back.

“Is that what Lucien has? Hidden talent? He is all the females speak of. Just this morning at breakfast I heard a play by play of how good he looked sparring yesterday. Shirtless,” Arina added.

When had he done that? Elain sighed.

“And they’ll never know.”

“Yes, the famous mated pair. How they hate you.”

“They don’t hate me. They just wish they were me,” Elain replied, her feelings hurt only a little. “And they’ll get over it.”

Arina nodded. “True…do you suppose they’ll be over it before or after the festival in Volta this weekend?”

“Festival?”

“Yes. It’s the perfect place to dig up a little dirt…not that you’re trying to do that, of course. Curious, how you, a total stranger, have made yourself indispensable to the queen so easily.”

Elain shrugged. “I’m friendly.”

Arina looked down at her book. “Of course. I wasn’t saying otherwise.”

Elain turned her back, intending to warn Lucien if anyone accosted him with their mouth at the end of the week it certainly wasn’t her. She’d almost forgotten Arina’s casual suspicion when Arina called, “Helion warned me about you.”

Elain froze. “Warned you?”

“The Seer,” she whispered softly. “With her Vanserra mate. What the pair, you two are. Lucien, with his fox-like reputation and you, a female gifted magic by the Cauldron herself.”

Elain turned, hiding her panic. “What are you talking about?”

Arina smiled, reclining in her chair behind a sack of books. “You aren’t the only one looking for things, Elain. I could help you, if you trusted me.”

“I’m just here to get to know Rask.”

“Of course. And I’m only here to study this ancient curse. Just two females from Prythian doing exactly what their High Lords asked of them.”

Elain leveled a stare. “And what, exactly, did Helion ask you to do?”

Arina only grinned. “What, indeed?”

LUCIEN: 

Was it wrong to look forward to the evening specifically to pull Elain into his arms and unpack his stupid fucking day? Lucien suspected the answer was yes and yet, when Elain crawled into bed looking exhausted and clean from the bath she’d just taken, Lucien lunged, dragging her against him.

“I figured you’d tie a string around my wrist or something,” she grumbled, though she didn’t pull away.

“This is easier…and is less of a choking hazard,” he added, thinking of how she might try and hang herself if she had another of her nightmares. The thought was sobering. Elain sighed, eyes focused on the ceiling overhead. 

“I’m starting to think you were right.”

Lucien, distracted by her hair spilled across his chest, nearly missed what she said. “Oh?”

“I’m so out of my depth here. They split us up and I don’t know who I can trust. And it doesn’t help that all I hear about his how much the other women–”

“Females. People are starting to wonder where you come from. I am a male, you are a female—”

“Well, where I come from that's a degrading way to talk about people,” she hissed, twisting in his arms. “Like we’re dogs or something.”

Lucien smothered a smile. “Yes. Humans and their civility.”

“So, you’re, what, an animal, then?”

“Yes,” he agreed with no small amount of satisfaction. He was tempted to offer to show her just how much of an animal he could be but didn’t dare push his luck. Not when they were almost friends. Lucien didn’t dare give her a whiff of wanting to court her lest he be rejected. Again. Elain was figuring herself out, figuring this world out. If all he ever was was this—the male who kept her from killing herself while she worked through her nightmares—maybe it was enough. Having her in some capacity felt infinitely better than not having her at all. 

“Did you learn anything?”

Lucien’s face darkened. Gunnar had all but demanded he let Lucien take a shot at Elain all in good fun. “Nothing I didn’t already know.”

“Do you think Gunnar really wants to ally with Koschei?” she whispered, as if Gunnar might spring from beneath the bed and hear them.

“No,” Lucien murmured after a moment. “I think he is weighing the safety of his own people against the future of our world. What I do think is he wants to take Montessere and wants to be sure we won’t step in with the Cauldron and obliterate him off the map.”

“Something is off,” Elain told him, snuggling just a little closer though he didn’t think she was even aware she did it.

“How much of the future can you see?”

“Don’t ask me that,” she said quickly, eyes finding his. He was tempted to ask what she knew—what she was hiding. He could feel her tension rolling off her in waves. 

“I thought we agreed to no secrets?” His words were light, almost teasing for all the good it did him. Elain closed her eyes, drawing a soft breath. 

“We barely know each other, Lucien.”

Her words were a slap in the face. For one, she was laying in his arms, tucked against his body. He wanted to remind her that he was the only thing standing between her and a literal king strolling in on her while she bathed each morning and had, on two occasions now, stopped her from injuring if not accidentally throwing herself off a mountainside.

“Right,” he agreed, swallowing all his hurt and resentment. Part of him wanted to pull away, to let her deal with this on her own. She would have deserved it, he thought. Maybe even wanted it. Why was he supposed to be her emotional punching bag?

Lucien kept her pulled against him, face smothered in her hair. “Not going anywhere.”

She reached for his wrist, brushing her thumb over the skin.

“I know.”

He had the sense something wasn’t quite right somewhere in his dream. Right before the bond winked out and the usual glow in his chest went dark, Lucien’s eyes opened of their own accord, the hair on his arm standing at attention. Lucien turned his head, eyes scanning the dark room for the intruder. He almost expected to find a rogue male creeping in hoping Elain was alone.

A soft wind blew through the room, curious given all the windows were closed. He began to untangle Elain from his arms to walk through the room, just to be certain they were alone.

The bond faded to nothing and Elain twisted in his grip, her eyes devoid of life again. They were blown out, near black where even the whites should have been.

“Elain–”

She scrambled for him, all but screaming as she lunged and toppled him to the ground. She was so little, hardly a match for him at all were it not for the glinting silver and green dagger in her hand. Lucien hadn’t realized she was armed when he fell to the floor but when her blade pierced his stomach, he was more than aware. 

“Cauldron, Elain,” he groaned, catching her arm roughly when she made to bring it back over him. He could see the blood lust on her otherwise empty face. “Elain, it’s me—”But maybe she knew. Maybe that was the point, maybe she’d hidden that dagger on purpose.

Despite the blood leaking from his body, Lucien managed to pin her beneath him. It was not how he’d imagined this moment—Elain had been writhing from pleasure and not the urge to see him dead. 

Lucien ripped at the bond, hands holding her wrists, his thighs clenched painfully around her torso. “Wake up,” he ordered, letting the magic lace his every word. He hadn’t expected it to work so well and yet all at once, Elain went limp. Lucien pried the dagger from her hand, throwing it across the room with a clatter. “What the fuck was that?” he demanded when she began to push against his grip.

“Nothing, just a dream–” she gasped when she saw him, blood still pooling from his wound.

“Of course, it’s just your run of the mill nightmare, you know, up until you stabbed me,” he retorted, trying very hard not to shout. Elain burst into tears, arms wrapped around her blood stained nightdress and though he was the one with the punctured body, Lucien felt as if he’d done something unforgivably wrong.

“Elain, please. Let me help you.”

“You can’t,” she whispered, going to the bathroom for some towels. He’d need more than that. Lucien managed to get to his feet, ignoring the white hot streak of pain that lanced through him.

He used his magic to suck up the puddle of blood on the floor, sparing them both from an awkward conversation in the morning, though it did little to stop the dripping trail behind him as he made his way for the tub. 

Hauling off his shirt, Lucien thought it looked worse than it was. “Where did you get the blade, Elain?”

He needed to know if she’d intentionally hurt him. If Elain had brought the dagger into the bed, Lucien had every intention of sending her back home in the morning with a warning that she needed to be better guarded while he worked. He wasn’t going to entertain her if she was trying to harm him. He couldn’t deal with the implication that his mate had tried to kill him on purpose, that she’d waited until he fell asleep…that she hated him so much she’d rather see him dead. It made Lucien’s chest ache, not from his wound but the realization she would never accept the bond. 

“I don’t know,” she whispered, tears pouring down her cheeks. She couldn’t take her eyes off his stomach, off the smeared blood still sliding off his skin. “In my dream I…”

Ignoring the fact that he still wore pants, Lucien reached for the tap and turned on the water. “Yes?”

“I was stabbing Hybern again,” she said, shoulders shaking. “I was trying to keep him away from Nesta and Feyre, I…I didn’t mean…”

Lucien exhaled. “So, just so I understand. Your nightmares compel you to hurt someone. Yourself…and now me, the only person keeping you from hurting yourself?”

Elain nodded her head.

 “And you don’t see a problem with that?”

She wept harder. “I do, I just—”

“Tell me what you’re dreaming, Elain,” he ordered again, pouring every ounce of magic available to him into the command. She was his mate. Lucien thought she’d have to obey, or at least, would buckle beneath the weight of his command. He was still bleeding, half naked in a tub of pink water while Elain stood in a ruined night dress that was coated in his blood. His instincts were running a river, demanding he kill something to protect her and it was with disappointment that he realized she did not feel the same.

He watched her struggle against the command, her legs shaking until she collapsed to the floor. Only then, knees drawn to her chest, did Elain begin explaining the dreams. Lucien tried to pretend her nearly launching herself into oblivion for Graysen didn’t hurt every last feeling in his body, worse than anything a knife could have done. 

Her next dream was worse than the first because it implied she was lying, in some respects, because she worried he might die. It was the first time Elain dared to make eye contact with him.

“It’s only a dream,” he said, uncomfortable as fuck in his sopping wet pants and his still aching wound. “My magic is hot but it’s not light—”

“I’ve seen it,” she interrupted with a miserable whisper. “In Hybern…you used that same power.”

Lucien shook his head. “That was just the mate instinct.”

She didn’t look convinced and to be fair, neither was he. Not when Elain just knew things she shouldn’t. It was too much for one night.

“And this last one?”

“I told you. It was like I was there again. I only realized it was you...or, I guess, not Hybern when I saw that awful face.”

Elain gulped down air between sobs, letting herself absorb the full weight of what was happening. Lucien couldn’t bear it. “Hey,” he murmured. Elain buried her face in her knees, shaking so hard he thought she might break apart. It was with a pained grunt he managed to haul himself out of the tub and raise her chin. “No harm done. Look, I’m already healing,” he added, rising up on his knees so she could see the wound knitting up before their very eyes. 

“I could have killed you.”

“No, Elain, you could not,” he replied frankly. “Not unless you get a lot better at aiming and a lot stronger.”

She sniffed. “Really?”

“Yes,” he agreed solemnly. “Please don’t cry. I’m not angry, just worried. I want to help you and I can’t when you keep secrets. You can trust me.”

She nodded, letting him wipe at her eyes. “Maybe I should sleep in the closet—”

“No,” he said too quickly. “You’ll stay where I can keep tabs on you. Whatever magic this is, I’d rather you stab me every night than hurt yourself because I can’t get to you in time. Swear it,

Elain. Swear on the bond between us—no more secrets.”She pressed her lips together in a maddening line and Lucien, sopping wet and bleeding, felt his heart crack. 

“Okay.”

She looked at him, eyes wide with true fear. “Okay?”

“You’ll go home tomorrow,” he groaned, hauling himself to his feet. 

“But you’ll stay?” she asked, clambering up with him, hand on his elbow to steady him. “How is that fair—”

“YOU STABBED ME!” he snarled furiously, yanking his arm from her grasp. “And want to sit there and say you can’t trust me! So yes, Elain. You’ll go home and that’s where you’ll stay. I’m done.”

“You’re done?” she squeaked from behind him, so very small and sad and miserable. Lucien’s rotten heart shattered a little more, demanding he turn even as he hobbled back to the bedroom for a clean shirt and a dry set of pants. 

“What else can I do, Elain? How else can I prove myself? I’ve stayed away, I’ve given you time and space. I’ve tried to learn about you, tried to prove myself and at every turn you throw up wall after wall, shut every possible door in my face. How can you ask me to let you stay when there is a very real possibility you will one day throw yourself off a ledge—” his voice cracked, betraying his very real feelings. “And I won’t get there in time?”

More tears slid down her face and Lucien very much wished he’d never told her he was done with her. He wished he’d just kept his mouth shut and made her get into the bath with him, had washed his blood off her skin and tucked her back into bed.

“I said I was sorry–”

“It’s not enough, Elain. You’re going home.”

“I’ll tell you!” she gasped, as if the words were physically painful to her. “No secrets,” she added when he turned. “Please don’t send me back.”

He sighed. “Elain–”

“Please,” she begged, her tears dripping down her chin to mingle with his blood on the cold floor. “I’m trying, Lucien. I can try harder.”

He couldn’t stop himself then, crossing the distance between them to pull her against him. Elain’s whole body shook, weeping soft against his aching, bleeding chest. “I’m trying so hard,” she sobbed, arms folded between them. “My whole life was stolen from me.”

He pressed his face into her hair, blinking back his own urge to cry. “I know.”

“Everyone acts as if it was fine, like I should be grateful. Of course Nesta and Feyre figured it out—they were miserable when we were human, but Lucien? I was so happy.”

For just a moment, he tried to really imagine it without letting his own jealousy get in the way. He could remember how he’d felt, making his own plans with Jesminda. How he’d proposed, the dreams he’d had, the plans he’d made. Stolen in one horrible moment, changing the entire trajectory of his entire life. He felt haunted, even then, by the ache of it all. The what might have been. 

“I’m sorry.” 

Elain didn’t acknowledge his words but she did uncurl her arms to hold him, her grip so tight his ribs protested. It wasn’t a declaration of undying love or even a real promise of friendship. But in that ugly, terrifying moment, something shifted between them.

And Lucien thought even the Gods themselves noticed.

ELAIN:

A new emissary had arrived. Elain was avoiding the commotion, grateful for new blood to distract people from Lucien. If she had to field one more question about his penis, she thought she might scream. Surely there were more fascinating ways to spend a persons time than sex? Only, in Rask’s court, all the females had was their scheming. The fun seemed to be getting the male beneath them and not the actual act itself. Hardly a feat given how none of the males respected the females they’d married enough to pose a true challenge. 

Elain was avoiding them all. No one knew what had gone on between her and Lucien two nights before. She’d caught him in the bathroom, shirtless, peering at his stomach in the mirror for any sign of the wound but just as he’d promised it would. It didn’t stop the guilt she felt from beginning to fester beneath her skin. She wasn’t sleeping, terrified of what else she might be capable of. Lucien kept her tight against him but what good was that when she could materialize weapons from nothing? What stopped her next nightmare from offering up an ash arrow and plunging it into his heart. Elain understood why Lucien had to go.

He was keeping her from finishing what the dreams were trying to start. It would have been better to let him take her home and at the same time, far worse. She knew Feyre would overreact and Rhysand would give her the Nesta treatment—locking her up somewhere she couldn’t be hurt, watched every moment of every day by one of the members of his court while he tried to figure out what to do with her.

At least Lucien didn’t care if she walked away from him. At least Lucien offered her space and understanding. She was starting to suspect he was a good man—male. She didn’t know what to do about that. 

“There you are,” Arina’s voice fluttered through Elain’s thoughts, dragging her back to the present. Elain was hiding in one of the spires, tucked into a window ledge with her book. “I’ve been looking everywhere. Lucien is, too. He’s worried,” Arina added without her usual mischief. Elain sighed, closing her book gently in her lap. 

“No need. I’m just avoiding the new emissary.”

“You and me both. Beron is so absurd,” Arina grumbled, helping Elain back to the slippery opal beneath their feet. 

“Beron is here?”

Arina scoffed. “He wouldn’t dare. Helion is practically breathing down his neck. There’s some old feud between the two of them and Helion is just looking for a reason to start a war with him. No, he sent one of his obnoxious sons, likely to torment Lucien.”

“Which one?” Elain asked, well aware she had no idea who any of them were outside of Eris. Arina shrugged delicate shoulders, tugging on the golden chain around her neck. “I didn’t stick around to see. Lucien asked if I’d seen you and then Zosia started touching the buttons on his jacket and—”

“Right. I get it.” And then Arina had come to Lucien’s rescue and the two had teamed up to find Elain. Elain ignored the way her stomach clenched at the thought of Zosia's fingers on Lucien's clothes. “We should go and check him out, just to see.”

“He’s almost certainly here to spy on us,” Arina grumbled. 

“All the more reason to see what we’re up against. I think I can handle one more Vanserra.”

“You have the only decent one,” Arina murmured, nodding her head without looking at several passing courtiers, all eyeing her with hungry interest. 

“None of them appeal to you?”

“If I’m setting down, it’s with some High Lord’s heir,” Arina said with a wrinkled nose. “Maybe Tarquin.”

“He’s not heir. He is High Lord.”

“Even better,” Arina agreed. “I met him on his pleasure barge, you know. Elain, you would have died. Imagine—”

“Elain Archeron.” A smooth, masculine voice slid over Elain’s skin, drawing her steps to a total halt. She knew without looking who was just behind, listening to their conversation with amused fascination. Elain turned first, gazing into the handsome, angular face of Eris Vanserra. He might have been utterly bored were it not for the interest in his amber eyes. He stood like the first born son—heir apparent, for all it mattered—might. Dressed immaculately in a buttoned jacket of green, his black pants tailored perfectly. He’d cut his auburn hair since she’d last seen him, the short sides and longer, pushed back top making him seem more handsome and regal. Golden earrings adorned his pointed lobes and several heavy rings on his broad, fair hands made them seem bigger—more powerful. 

“I didn’t think you were allowed out of the basement,” Eris continued, eyes flicking towards Arina’s still turned back for only a moment. “Something, something, keep the princess from the evil Vanserra, something something. Am I right? Isn’t that how the story goes?”

Arina turned then, green eyes narrowed to slits. Eris looked again, shifting ever so slightly before his eyes came back to Elain. She supposed that was all the acknowledgement he’d offer the beautiful female from Day Court. “Imagine my wonder and surprise when we learned not only had they freed you from your prison but they allowed you to wed.”

His lips curled over his teeth. He knew they were liars, had been in Hewn City not six months earlier dancing with her sister. 

“Right after Cassian wed Nesta,” Elain replied, careful to keep her voice easy and soft. “You remember my elder sister?”

Eris didn’t react to the barb. “Barely.”

“What brings you to Rask? Are you going to join us in the tulip fields?” Elain asked, inching just a little closer. Eris looked down at her, his expression utterly unreadable. “It would be so nice getting to know someone in Lucien’s family.”

“I’ll bet they eat you up over here, don’t they?” he sneered. “You’re such a sweet little thing.”

Elain made her eyes big and round. “Yes.”

“I’m not so easily manipulated, Elain Archeron,” Eris all but whispered, stepping into her personal space. 

“It’s Elain Vanserra,” she replied just as softly, daring to meet his leveled stare. True surprise flickered in his gaze, just enough for Elain to know she’d gained the upper hand, if only for a moment. 

“Lady Vanserra,” he murmured, glancing towards Arina as he said it. “That sounds nice, don’t you think?”

“You should go back home,” Arina said instead, ignoring his words. “You have no business here.”

Eris looked down at Elain. “And leave my baby sister to the wolves? I think not. Tell Lucien I said hi.”

Eris turned heel, leaving the two standing just outside the Great Hall to watch him go. Arina seemed to exhale a shaking breath Elain hadn’t even known she’d been holding.  “He’s such a bastard,” she whispered. 

“He can’t find out what we’re doing,” Elain agreed, crossing her arms over her chest.

“How do you plan to keep him from poking his nose into everyone's business? They’ll take one look at him and…” And spill their guts just to get him out of his clothes. Elain thought Eris didn’t seem the type. There was something lifeless about his face despite his sneering countenance. As if he wore a mask and if she peeled it away, she’d find a trembling little bird just behind.

“I’ll occupy Eris,” she said, recognizing something about herself in the eldest Vanserra. It was in his eyes, though Elain didn’t know what, exactly, that thing was. “At least long enough for you to work on that curse.”

“I could work on it for a century,” Arina grumbled. “And still, I’d be staring at gibberish.”

“I’m starting to think it was a mistake coming here,” Elain murmured, staring at the empty space Eris had once been. Arina, her eyes vacant, nodded her head.

“I think so, too.”

LUCIEN:

Eris’s voice was like being doused in frigid water. “I hear congratulations are in order. Mother is going to be so put out when she learns you didn’t even send an invitation. Wedded, little brother. And here I was thinking you’d never get over—”

“Don’t you dare say her name,” Lucien warned, facing off with his eldest brother in a stairwell while he looked for Elain. Eris clicked his teeth, shaking his head.

“Well. Elain is far lovelier than I remember. I suppose that’s the glow of newly mated love, though. When did you find the time?”

Lucien knew Eris didn’t need to sniff through the lie—his brother had gone to visit Vassa and Jurian merely a week before Rhysand had offered up the mission. Lucien had strolled from his bedroom to find Eris toying with a dagger at the breakfast table, filled with endless questions about Koschei’s fortress. 

“Why are you so worried about what I do and don’t do with Elain? Disappointed she couldn’t reject you, too?”

“We have that in common, I suppose,” Eris grinned, following behind Lucien as he began to jog down the stairs. “Given Elain didn’t accept shit and we both know it.”

Lucien spun, slamming his elder brother against the tower wall as hard as he could. Pressing his forearm against Eris’s windpipe, Lucien growled, “You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Eris shoved, knocking Lucien back a step. Adjusting his jacket, cheeks flushed, he said, “I’ve been around too many mated pairs. I know the scent well enough. You’ve got these dumbfucks fooled because they’re too ignorant to recognize what an unsatisfied female looks like.”

Lucien swallowed the urge to shove his brother down the stairs. Eris tugged at his cuffs, the picture of wounded nobility.

“I didn’t come here to fight you.”

“Why did you come?” Lucien demanded. “Tired of fathers boot on your neck? Hoping to breathe a little freely?”

Eris’s rage was a real, simmering thing. Lucien knew exactly how to get beneath his Eris’s skin, after all. Eris hadn’t always been such a piece of shit—there were moments Lucien could recall almost loving Eris. Eris had been a man when Lucien was born and as a boy, all he’d wanted was to be his older brother.

But Eris could be cruel, just like their father and Lucien loved his mother far too much to mold himself in Beron’s image. It had always been the difference between them. Eris wanted to be High Lord and, as consequence, was willing to do anything to get it. And Lucien, who watched Eris chip away at his soul in service of that goal, had learned too young he had no interest in that sort of power.

He did understand one thing, though. Lucien knew the lengths he would personally go to keep Elain safe, and killing Eris ranked very, very low. He wondered if his brother didn’t recognize the bent in Lucien’s thoughts. “I’m not going to tell anyone about your dumb fucking lie. I don’t care enough about your love life to make a spectacle of it. Although,” he added after a moment, “Mother was hurt you didn’t tell her.”

“How could I? Father opens all my letters,” Lucien snapped. “It’s not as if she would have been allowed to come. I’m dead, remember?”

“If only,” Eris mumbled. “Are you going to tell me what you’re doing here or will I be forced to guess? Don’t make me guess, Lucien. It’s so tedious.”

“I’m here because Elain wants to see the tulips.”

If looks could kill, Lucien thought he would have fallen dead at the bottom of the landing. “Yes, your fascinating mate said as much. Oh, to have been a fly on the wall for that conversation. She invited me to join, you know. Don’t tempt me.”

“If Elain wants you to join us, who am I to deny her?”

A strange look passed over Eris’s face, so fleeting Lucien might have imagined it had his brother not said, “Of course. She is Lady Vanserra, after all.”

Lucien halted, turning his head ever so slowly to look at the hatred burning in Eris’s eyes. “You should have kept her Archeron,” Eris whispered, hands clenched to fists. “Father will–”

“Father can get fucked,” Lucien snapped, his heart pounding in his chest. Lady Vanserra was his mother, had been the derogatory name Beron called Amera anytime she displeased him. Lucien hadn’t thought of it until it was Eris speaking that hated title, his whole body rigid. “I can call my wife whatever I like.”

“And here I was, thinking you two had true love,” Eris sneered. “Did Rhysand force her hand like mothers—”

Lucien slammed his brother back against the wall, fingers curling so tightly around Eris’s throat he could feel the furious flutter of Eris’s pulse. It was only a moment before power exploded from Eris, pushing Lucien back. They might have been boys again, squabbling angrily in the Forest House, shoving and pushing and kicking with their autumn kissed power.

Only, it wasn’t just fire pouring from Lucien’s hands. Eris noticed it too, drawing back when a pulse of bright yellow slipped from his gut, slapping Eris hard in the face. Lucien looked down at his hands, recalling what Elain had said. I’ve seen it. 

Eris blinked, smoothing over his features as if nothing had happened at all. It would be useless to ask his brother what this was, not when Eris might tattle to Beron…not when the magic in autumn might be shifting, might be reconsidering which brother might inherit the throne. Lucien drew back an instinctive step. If Eris suspected he wasn’t next, he’d kill Lucien without blinking an eye.

“You should take your pretty little mate home. This is no place for her.”

Lucien turned his back to Eris. “What the fuck would you know?”

Eris didn’t respond, not that Lucien gave his brother a chance to. With Eris here, everything was more complicated. It was almost worse, in some ways, than having Beron. Lucien could maneuver around his father, could predict what Beron might do, the ways in which he might act. Eris had always been his own agent of chaos, enforcing their fathers will with his own particular brand of cruelty. 

More and more, Lucien wondered if the whole mission wasn’t doomed from the start. Gunnar was more interested in chasing skirts than talking politics and Lucien and Elain were slowly unraveling. He knew she wasn’t sleeping, was barely eating. She kept up her appearances but Hilda had pulled back from Elain once Arina arrived, content to sit upon her throne and watch her court with near sullen eyes. Lucien could sense her resentment and wondered how Gunnar didn’t recognize his wife’s own anger even when it looked him so brazenly in the face.

Maybe Eris was right, in his own stupid way. Maybe it was a mistake to keep Elain somewhere like this. Lucien could still see the fear in her eyes when he’d said he meant to take her back, her soft desperation. She’d been trying too hard, in the aftermath, tiptoeing around him when he wished she’d go back to arguing with him. 

He found her at the dining table picking at a cucumber salad, a vision in a sky blue confection. “There you are,” he murmured, dropping heavily into the chair beside her. Elain looked over with heavy lidded eyes and to his secret surprise, scooted her chair close enough she could rest her head on his arm.

“Can we go upstairs for a while?” she murmured, fork all but clattering to the table. “Will you watch me sleep?”

He would have crawled over hot coals if she’d asked. “Yeah,” he agreed, pleased when she all but batted her pretty little eyes at him. Elain let him keep his hand in hers, perhaps unaware he was stroking his thumb over the soft skin of her wrist. 

“Eris is here.”

“I know,” Lucien grumbled, leading her towards the stairs. “I think we’ll participate in the festival and then get away to the tulips for a few days. Come back and see where we’re at and if it's even worth staying another month.”

“And if it’s not?” she whispered, tensing with every new step forward.

Lucien kept his shrug too casual. “There are other places we could visit. I am emissary, after all.”

“You’ll bring me with you?”

“Until you demand to return home,” Lucien agreed, his heart fluttering in his throat. He would do exactly as he promised even as he hoped her opinion of him might shift, might become more curious and less mistrusting. 

“I don’t ever want to go back,” Elain said, her words cutting through his hopeful thoughts. “I hate Velaris.”

“You don’t hate–”

“Yes I do,” she replied, yanking her hand from his grip. Lucien had to suppress a smile, trotting after her into their shared bedroom. “I hate how everyone is always watching me, how they follow me around. I’m never alone unless I’m in my room. They just assume I must love it because they do but I don’t even like starlight,” Elain added. “And it’s never warm enough, the water is always cold, and—”

“It’s not home,” he finished, noting the way her body practically sagged with relief.

“Exactly,” she agreed, plopping onto the bed with a loud sigh. “Nothing about this life is. I’m so out of place. I don’t know where I belong or even who I am…”

Lucien’s chest ached. He couldn’t help but join her, sitting on the edge of bed, his thigh practically touching her own. “I feel the same way.”

She turned her head to look at him. “Really?”

He nodded. “Maybe we’ll just live like nomads for the next century. Bouncing from place to place, trying to figure out what feels right.”

Elain smiled. “I’d like that. I want to see more of this world. I’ve only ever seen Velaris…and now this place.”

“We can remedy that,” Lucien assured her. “You’ve got centuries, you know. You don’t need to make a decision about your life right this second.”

Her eyes settled. “Even about…this?”

“Especially about this,” Lucien lied. He wanted her to pick him so badly it made his teeth ache. “I got three centuries to be stupid and run around. If you need just as much time, take it. I’ll wait.” Elain took another breath but her eyes were light again. Warm. Happy, even. He’d done that. It bolstered him. “I thought you wanted to nap?”

“I do,” she said with the sweetest sigh. “Tell me about Eris, first.”

Lucien flopped back onto the bed, head tilted to look at her. “What do you want to know?”

Elain grinned. “Everything.”

ELAIN:

Life at court had settled into a routine, strange as it was. Elain woke each morning for breakfast before the ladies decided on what games they wanted to play. Lunch inevitably broke up a near faight between two females who were almost certainly arguing over a male that did not deserve their attention and by the time the afternoon rolled around, everyone was a little drunk and back in good spirits.

Everyone but Hilda. Hilda presided over them all, indulging in their games and soothing squabbles but underneath it all, Elain recognized the near dead eyed dread she stared into. Elain knew that feeling too well. It was what kept prompting Elain to sit beside Hilda, to include her in the gossip, even when Hilda hardly seemed interested.

Not until Eris arrived, anyway. Elain had seen the way Hilda watched the Autumn court heir stroll through court, murmuring to her husband as they left. “Eris Vanserra,” she murmured, her words soft. “I met his father once.” Elain turned to look. “Oh?”

“He’s not half as handsome as his sons,” she said, not for the first time. “He was very married when I met him…for all that it mattered.”

Well. That was disturbing. Elain looked over, suppressing the urge to gag. “I hear he’s terribly unkind.”

“Oh, that he is,” Hilda murmured, examining her nails. “You know how those Vanserra’s are. I wonder what his eldest son is like.”

Elain cleared her throat. “Do you want me to ask?”

She laughed. “Oh, no. He is a pretty diversion, though. Unmated?”

Elain almost choked. “Eris? I doubt he has a mate anywhere in the world.”

“He needs someone powerful,” she mused and Elain, so utterly disturbed to hear anyone speak about Eris that way, could only nod her head. 

“You know what we should do?” Hilda announced, silencing the ladies in the drawing room they were all lounging in. “A dance. Tonight,” she added pointedly as if the room hadn’t erupted into squealing giggles. Any excuse to get dressed up and drink was well worth the revelry. Elain would have been delighted, too, had she not known the true purpose of the dance. All that effort over Eris Vanserra?

Elain was dying by the time she found a bewildered Lucien wandering towards their bedroom. “Did you hear the queen has ordered a ball?”

Elain nodded so exuberantly that Lucien’s eyes narrowed instantly. “What do you know?”

Elain shoved him into their bedroom before breathlessly declaring, “Hilda slept with your father.”

Lucien blanched. “How awful.”

“She liked it. She said—”

Lucien held up a hand. “Do not tell me what she said. He’s been married to my mother for six centuries. Hilda is barely older than six decades. When did she find the time?”

Oh. Elain hadn’t thought to ask. “She didn’t say.”

“A mercy, I suppose. What does that have to do with tonight?”

“She’s interested in your brother.”

“Ugh,” Lucien grumbled. “I have to dress up so she has an excuse to seduce Eris? Lets stay in—”

“You stay in,” Elain interrupted blithely, walking to their shared closet for a dress. “I want to see if she’s successful.”

Lucien cringed. “You like Eris, now?”

“When did I say that? I only said I wanted to see if this seduction is successful. Hilda is so…” She didn’t know how to finish that. Hilda was so strange. Icy and cold one minute, open and warm the next. She’d told Elain about her task for Arina saying she wanted Elain’s opinion…and then never spoke of it again. It was almost like having a friend, almost the illusion of trust. Elain frowned. 

“There is a festival in Volta this weekend, too.”

“Yes,” his voice grumbled from behind the closet door. “We have a full social calendar, don’t we?”

“When were you thinking of going to see tulips?” That was what Elain really wanted. A chance to escape court, to spend a day or two in nature. Perhaps they could sleep in another inn, if only to get away from the headache inducing atmosphere Hilda and Gunnar had created. 

“I don’t know,” came his muffled reply. Elain’s fingers hesitated over the dresses. Lucien was busy, she reminded herself. He hadn’t come here to show her a good time, he’d come here to do a job. Now Eris had arrived and Helion was meddling and their jobs were more difficult than before. She tried not to let her disappointment overwhelm her but if Elain was being honest, she knew part of what she wanted was to be alone with him. No females constantly touching, laughing, lurking. 

It was a foolish thing to want.

Elain emerged with a deep hunter green gown, laying it across the neatly made bed. “Well. I still want to go.” Lucien glanced up from his chair, the letter in his hand slipping for a moment. “We will. I just don’t know when. Or how. When I brought it up, Gunnar wanted to make a whole trip out of it–”

“No,” she breathed, heart pounding. “They can’t come.”

“And then, of course, you invited Eris.”

“I wasn’t being serious,” Elain protested. Lucien went back to his letter, a muscle jumping in his jaw. 

“I’m sure you weren’t.”

“Are you mad?” she gaped. Lucien didn’t acknowledge that, though his knee began bouncing. He was. Elain huffed a loud breath, abandoning her dress and her mate—the infuriating, stupid, arrogant male—to their bedroom. She’d find Ione and Zosia and see if they wanted to play a game of bowling, one of the more favorite games at court. They might want Lucien, which annoyed her, but when he wasn’t around she found their company more than tolerable. 

Elain made it all the way to the bottom of the steps before she was intercepted by a different Vanserra. He opened his mouth to offer some snide comment. Elain cut him off. “Oh, be quiet.” His eyebrows shot upwards. “Careful of your claws, kitten.” “

Remember what I just said, Eris?” she snapped. “I’m not in the mood for your word games.”

“Okay. How about a direct question? What the fuck are you and Lucien doing here?”

She stopped dead in her tracks, alone in the empty corridor though she doubted they would be for long.

“You first, big brother,” she replied with mock sweetness. Eris opened his mouth when the sound of chattering interrupted them both. Soft, serious voices prompted Eris to grab Elain around the waist, hand against her mouth, as he pressed her just behind the corner of another hall.

“Shhh,” he whispered, turning his head to listen. Elain was tempted to bite his hand, to lick his skin if only to annoy him. Why was he touching her? She didn’t like how the Vanserra’s were so comfortable putting their hands all over her body. 

“And the mortals?” That was Gunnar’s whispered, soft voice.

“Dead. Easily killed,” scoffed another male. Elain’s eyes shot to Eris.

“Marcellus,” he whispered against her ear. 

“All of them?” Gunnar was prompting something that eluded both Elain and Eris. Marcellus chuckled.

“Do you truly wish to know?”

Eris and Elain looked at each other. Yes.

“I suppose not,” Gunnar agreed to their combined disappointment. “So long as everything was cleaned up.”

“It is as if they never existed.”

“And what of the…”

“We’re finding it…difficult…to penetrate their borders. Several soldiers have returned with their minds addled. Confused,” Marcellus added pointedly. “It is as the Autumn Lord said.” Elain looked at Eris accusingly. He merely shook his head, a tendril of his auburn hair sliding into his eyes. Beron, he mouthed. 

“Interesting. Is there no other way in?”

“No. Our ship did not make it to port. It simply vanished,” Marcellus said softly. “Prythian is hiding more secrets than their emissaries suggest.”

“I will speak with Elain Vanserra this evening. She is not as well-trained as her slippery mate,” Gunnar murmured. 

Marcellus’s dark, appreciative chuckle made Eris’s lips curl over his teeth in rage. “Let me know if you want any help.”

“She might like it,” Gunnar agreed, his voice traveling further away. “If I can get him away from her.”

“He is quite rabid,” Marcellus agreed. “Leave him to me.”

Eris and Elain listened to their fading steps and their crude jokes as to what, exactly they might do if they managed to separate her from Lucien. Elain’s heart pounded in her chest, loud enough she knew Eris could likely hear it. 

He dropped his hand from her mouth. “Meet him tonight,” Eris breathed, pushing away from her to run a hand through his neatly coiffed hair. “I’ll keep watch. Meet him and tell him—”

“What have you told him?”

“Nothing,” Eris gasped, his amber eyes wild with alarm. With anger. “I was sent to watch Lucien, I didn’t…this is…” it was so odd, seeing the silver-tongued Autumn heir at a loss for words. Eris pressed his fingertips against his lips. “They’re trying to get into Rhysand’s territory.”

“Yes,” Elain agreed. She knew why, of course. They believed he held the Cauldron. Eris narrowed his eyes. 

“What will it take for you to trust me?”

“Centuries, I would imagine,” she replied blithely. “I don’t believe you wouldn’t let them drag me off if it suited your goals.” Elain pushed past him, intending to leave Eris standing there alone in the hall, to tell Lucien everything. Eris’s hoarse voice stopped her. “I tried to stop him—the last time.”

Elain turned slowly. She had no idea what Eris was talking about. “Why didn’t you?”

Shame flooded Eris’s expression. “Beron, I mean. I was sent away, I…I should have known it was a diversion. I truly thought Beron would let them leave. You don’t understand…” Eris trailed off for a moment. “It solved his problem when it came to Lucien. One less son to consider, one less brother vying for the throne. I was naive…I thought he’d be glad to see Lucien leave.”

Oh Gods, she thought softly. Eris was going to tell her something Lucien had never shared, something no one had ever told her. It was a violation. She ought to have stopped Eris. Elain couldn’t help herself.

“Maybe you hoped for that, too.”

“I didn’t,” Eris said, surging forward, one hand thrown out to stop her from leaving. “I wanted him to marry her, I swear—”

Elain shook her head, forcing her expression to betray nothing but condemnation. “Are you sure, Eris?”

His anguish unmasked him, made his own hollow, empty darkness so obvious. There was no amusement, no sneering nobility. Only a male who had bore centuries of horrors and was crumbling beneath his guilt. “When I learned, I wrote to Tamlin and begged him to give Lucien sanctuary.”

“Does Lucien know this?” 

“No,” Eris rasped. “He believes me complicit…that I wanted to see her die.”

“And did you?” 

Eris shook his head. “Beron should have killed Lucien if someone had to be punished. She…she was an innocent.”

Elain meant to turn her back on him, haughty in her judgment. Eris knew it, saw what she felt burning in her eyes. “There were six of them,” he whispered, so soft she barely heard him. “And only one of me. I lost three brothers that day and I have not forgotten it.”

Eris looked as if he might shatter, as if those words were something he’d only ever dared to think. Elain closed the distance between them, wrapping her arms around his neck. “Tell me you’ve come to help.”

“I came to get you out,” he whispered into her neck. “Father would kill you just as easily as he’d killed her. I cannot stand it.”

Elain rose up on her tip toes and kissed Eris’s cheek. That was what she’d seen, earlier in the week. Their shared grief and guilt, the knowledge they’d failed their siblings through inaction and ignorance. Maybe it hadn’t been malicious, but someone was still hurt and someone had to carry that blame.  “I’ll meet Gunnar tonight on one condition. Well, two, I suppose.”

“Name them.”

“Don’t let him take me somewhere you can’t see,” Elain said immediately. Eris nodded, smoothing his hands against his jacket when she stepped out of his embrace.

“And the other?” Just like that, his mask of nobility had slipped right back over his face.

“Forgive yourself, Eris.”

His mouth fell open, eyes filling with some emotion she couldn’t read. “I’ll keep you safe.”

Elain swallowed.

“I know you will.”

LUCIEN: 

Lucien didn’t want to be at this party. He didn’t want to watch Elain and Eris, dressed in complementary shades of green, dance about the glimmering marble floors like prince and princess of Rask beneath that massive crystal chandelier. He couldn’t stand the hungry way Gunnar kept his eyes on Elain’s lithe body, eyes roving the smooth curves that her off-the-shoulder dress clung to. 

“Lucien Vanserra,” breathed a familiar voice. “You owe me money.”

Lucien glanced over at Arina, Day Courts wiliest scholar. More politician than anything, her presence signaled nothing positive. Not that Lucien didn’t know he was in deep shit with the arrival of Eris. He sighed.

“You knew I wasn’t good for it.”

“Maybe I’ll pawn it off your wife,” Arina teased. “She’s surprisingly sweet. How did you convince her to marry you?”

“She took pity on me, as I’m sure you could have guessed,” Lucien agreed. “Speaking of, I think I need to steal her from my brother before he gets her so drunk she can’t stand.”

Arina waved him off, her eyes lingering on his brother. Lucien didn’t dare considering why, not when she’d have to compete with Hilda of Rask. Instead, he merely cut into the dance between his mate and Eris without preamble or apology.

“Spoil all my fun, why don’t you?” Eris grumbled while Elain grinned. 

“Jealous?” she taunted, her cheeks deliciously flushed.

Was he so obvious? He opened his mouth to argue when he caught that sparkle in her eyes. Teasing. She was merely giving him a difficult time. “Hardly,” he lied. “I merely can’t stand the sight of you making Eris so happy. What are the two of you laughing about, anyway?”

“He is telling me the most delightful stories of you as a boy,” Elain replied, pulled close to his body, the scent of her exertion was maddening. The salt of her sweat combined with the usual sweetness of her skin offered the most tantalizing hint as to what her arousal might smell like. Lucien tugged her closer still, one hand on the curve of her waist, the other laced through her fingers. The steps were second nature, were as easy as breathing. Better, he thought with dizzying amazement. Elain moved with a fluid grace, like she floated in the luminescent air. 

“What stories is he telling?” Lucien asked, his voice too breathless to be the mocking sneer he’d wanted her to hear. Elain looked up through those thick, dark lashes and fuck what was wrong with him? Lucien cleared his throat.

“He says you’re afraid of heights—”

“You knew that,” Lucien interrupted impatiently. Not with her or her enjoyment at his discomfort but his own reaction to her nearness. She was in his bed. Why did the sight of her obvious joy make him feel so undone, so tightly wound he might combust? 

Bond, it’s just the bond, he lied, clenching his teeth so hard his jaw ached. The music slipped from one song to the other and Lucien didn’t let her go, not when other partners swapped out, just as breathless as him and Elain. Marcellus was coming towards him and Lucien knew the asshole was going to want to talk about going to the border, of showing them what had happened. Lucien swallowed the growl.

“Go,” Elain murmured, disentangling herself from his arms. “I’m sure Eris has more stories about your blanky.”Lucien spluttered a stammering non-response, noting Elain’s bright delight when she realized Eris had not made that up. Eris sauntered over, two crystal goblets of wine in hand, and offered one to Elain. He dipped his head, speaking words so quiet Lucien couldn’t hear over the playing orchestra. Elain grinned and Lucien couldn’t deny what he felt.

Burning, all-consuming, overwhelming jealousy. They were so at ease, so jovial and friendly. He’d spent five years trying to get her to relax around him and Eris could sweep in and in the span of a week had managed what Lucien never could. Elain’s easy touches, her pleased smiles…her laughter.

“Vanserra,” Marcellus snapped. “Do you have a moment?”

He really didn’t and yet could he do? Demand Elain not talk to his weasely, two-faced brother? Lucien turned his back and swallowed the ache, the hurt, the everything roiling around within him. The thought that his mate preferred his older brother made him feel wildly inadequate. She didn’t mind him because he was a Vanserra, then. She only minded it was him.

“Have you considered coming to the border with me?” Marcellus began, walking Lucien towards the far table where piles of food and wine sat, far from the dancing and the merriment.

“I have,” Lucien replied dryly, pouring himself a near full glass. 

Marcellus was clearly irritated, waiting on Lucien’s response. “And?”

Lucien shrugged, practically pouring the wine down his throat like it was a shot of liquor. “You haven’t told me the purpose. I was there when our own wall fell, I am aware of the ramifications.”

“I would think you’d like to see the conditions of the mortals,” Marcellus replied casually. Testing. Lucien didn’t dare look at him as he shrugged again, instead pinning his gaze on Arina, floating towards him in a bright gown of teal.

“I don’t particularly care.”

Marcellus’s lips curled upwards. “No? And here I was thinking you didn’t want us to invade.”

“I don’t,” Lucien replied. “Another war would be costly and messy and send the wrong message to our own home which is still rebuilding. I don’t want to be drafted into another war to quell a human uprising. What I want is some fucking peace.”

“Come to the border with Gunnar,” Marcellus murmured. “Let us show Prythian what peace—and alliance—could look like.”

Lucien looked over at the blonde male. “Okay,” he agreed. “No females.”

“A wise decision,” Marcellus agreed with a smile, just in time for Arina to snag Lucien’s elbow.

“Can I steal Lord Vanserra?” she asked, her voice easy despite her tight eyes. Marcellus nodded, the picture of courtly grace.

“All yours, lady.”

Arina wrapped her arm through his. “Where is Elain?” she questioned softly, drawing him across the open ballroom like two lovers taking a leisurely stroll.

“With my…brother…” Lucien trailed off as his eyes swept the room. His fleeting victory with Marcellus was immediately dampened when he realized neither of them were dancing. There was no laughter, no touching…they’d left. Lucien’s jealousy was an out of control monster, forcing his steps to quicken as he strolled out of the ballroom.

Lucien froze at the end of the hall, pivoting to turn towards the steps that would lead him to his bedroom. Elain, eyes closed, hands gripping Gunnar’s tunic, was pressed against the wall. The King himself had one hand pressed against the papered surface just beside her, half caging her with his body. His mouth covered hers, his free hand holding her face, fingers carding through her hair. Elain wasn’t kissing him back but she wasn’t moving, either. She looked asleep.

Arina grabbed Lucien’s arm to keep him from walking in on it, hand pressed to her mouth. Lucien, mouth dry, could only watch his mate allow whatever was taking place to occur. Gunnar tilted her head, pulling his mouth back for a moment. Elain gasped as if she’d been holding her breath.

“Come upstairs with me,” Gunnar whispered. Elain blinked her eyes, lips parted. Lucien’s stomach slapped wetly at his feet. She was going to agree, was letting him take her hand–

“Elain!” Eris snapped, breathless and disheveled. “Come here.”

Elain blinked again, blowing out a breath. Gunnar’s lip curled over his teeth but Elain darted beneath his arm, all but throwing herself in Eris’s arms. “Your majesty?” she asked, as if she couldn’t quite understand what she was looking at.

“Vanserra,” Gunnar snarled. Eris, holding Elain against his chest, offered Gunnar a cool, calculating look.

“Your wife is looking for you.”

And then, without another word, Eris swept Elain away. Gunnar’s growl of frustration bounced off the high, arched ceilings. Lucien grabbed Arina, pulling her into the light, his face utterly casual as they began walking. Gunnar rounded the corner, steps halting for a moment. Lucien’s eyes slid to his face, the picture of ignorant civility. 

It was Arina who stilled, who dropped into a soft bow. “Majesty,” she murmured. 

He merely nodded curtly before stepping past them. Arina watched, head inclined.

“What was that?” she whispered when he left.

What, indeed?

#elucien #elucien fan fic #elain x lucien #elucien fanfiction #surprise! #i was thinking about this fic last night #plotting it out in my head #thought why not

[roosterbox]

July 28 Random Word Almost-Drabble: Scandal

Word Count: 646

Rating: Let’s say T for the implication of sexytimes.

@boisinberryjamarama

——

It was all over the paper the next morning, as Yusuf said it would be. Eames, lounging on the beach. The more secluded side, at least. Thank goodness for small favors. The tiny speedo his friend was wearing caused some ruffled feathers; a few pearl-clutching comments on the gossip sites, which Yusuf would deny ever visiting, of course. But that wasn’t the story.

The story seemed to be Who The Hell Is The Mystery Man With His Tongue Down Eames’ Throat?

“It’ll be everywhere,” he’d told Eames. “The Mirror, The Daily Mail, the fucking Sun.”

Eames only shrugged. “I have nothing to hide.”

Judging by his swimwear, he meant that literally as well as figuratively.

“Bloody tabloids,” Yusuf grumbled.

“What about ‘em?” Ariadne shuffled into the kitchen, still toweling her wet hair. His robe hung loose around her shoulders, though she did her best to tie it tight. On him, it would have reached just past his knees. But on her shorter frame, a few inches of fabric dusted along the floor as she walked. Yusuf found his eyes were fixed to this action, for reasons he couldn’t quite place. After a moment, she cleared her throat. When he looked back at her face, she raised an eyebrow and held up the damp towel.

“Laundry?”

“Oh, let me-“ he took it from her, hoping his blush wasn’t as obvious as it felt. He unceremoniously threw the towel - the softest one he owned, he was happy to note, having set it out for her when he got up first - in the laundry room. A problem for future Yusuf, naturally. She was looking at his laptop when he came back out, and let out a wolf whistle when she saw the pics.

“Dang, spicy stuff.”

He rolled his eyes. “Wouldn’t have been if he’d have just listened to me.”

“When has Eames ever listened to anyone?”

He had to concede the point. Ariadne shook her head, not even bothering to hide her small smile.

“Coffee?”

“Already going. Help yourself.”

“Thanks, babe.” She stood on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek before moving towards the percolator. A point of contact that was all too brief, as far as Yusuf was concerned. He found his gaze drawn to the robe trailing on the floor again. I want to kiss her, he thought. I want to hold her. I want to press her up against the counter. I want.

And, remembering the night (and early morning) before quite vividly, he realized that the only thing stopping him was himself.

She squeaked in surprise when she felt his arms wrap around her.

“Yusuf!” There might have been more, but words were suddenly harder when there were soft lips against hers. Neither was sure how much time passed - minutes? hours? years? - but they were both breathing hard when they parted.

“You look… really good in my robe, Ari.” He murmured. She giggled softly.

“And you look good in your pajama pants.” She ran a finger along the waistband of said pants, almost but not quite dipping inside. “Very sexy.”

He half suspected she was teasing. There was nothing particularly noteworthy about his flannel bed wear. She tucked her head towards his neck, kissing there before adding a touch of teeth. Enough to feel, but maybe not to mark. Yusuf groaned, and squeezed her tighter.

“How long will the coffee keep?” She asked. He felt a hand reach behind him to grab at his ass through the flannel.

“It’ll shut itself off in a couple hours.”

“Then we have a couple more hours, don’t we?” Ariadne spun around to face him and threw her arms around his neck, crushing their lips together again.

The robe ended up on the floor outside Yusuf’s bedroom, alongside his comfy flannel trousers.

Neither of them minded, but the cold coffee was harder to ignore.

#inception #alternate universe #arthur x eames #(because you know that mystery man was Arthur!) #yusuf x ariadne #my fic #my stuff #writing is hard #random word generator #fluff #I am weak for tiptoe kisses #also #the time honored tradition of wearing your lover’s robe after spending the night

[sparrow-orion-writes]

Part 5: Of all the things sane and insane - we are neither.

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four

This one shot is set in the Cardinal Sins universe. No prior reading or knowledge is required.

POV: First Person

Genres: Fantasy, adventure, romance.

Rating and warnings for the whole fic: 18 (violence, some mild gore once or twice, one detailed sex scene, and one not-so detailed sex scene). By clicking "Read More" you confirm you are at least 18 years of age, and willing to read the above topics.

Warnings for this part: Alluded to smut

Word Count: 1,645

--

Alistair (who's name I finally recalled), remained obscenely in high spirits following his near-death experience. I realised that this man - predictably for academics who would do anything for a theory - was absolutely insane.

He spent much of the remaining travel scribbling things down in his notebook, prying questions from Fairweather about things most humans should not know of.

Or maybe we should, it's hard to tell even now.

Once we had set our course for home once more, I began to worry about it. What would happen when we landed back in Dover? Would she ask me to leave? Would she ask me to stay?

These questions remained largely unspoken for a couple of weeks, though I saw her every night as I had done already. Each and every time I remained as enraptured by her as the last.

One night, about two weeks after we’d left the demon island, I came outside to find Fairweather sat on the edge of the ship in her shirt, the wind blowing in her hair. I was admittedly growing accustomed to the fact she cared very little about how much skin she showed to me.

She turned to me, bathed in the golden fire of the lantern light, and smiling she said to me “come and swim with me.”

“But who will pull us back up?” I replied, bewildered. She grinned in that lovely way she tended to, all full of mischief and delight.

“If I tie some rope to the end, enough to reach the water, we can pull that rope and it will lift the boat up.”

“It’ll be heavy with me on it.”

“I want you to swim with me.” I stood beside her as her face tilted to mine. A mere few inches and I could’ve tasted her lips there and then, but I didn’t. Firstly because I was a coward and secondly because it hurt enough the way it was, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to succumb to the desire I had for her. Thirdly because - quite frankly - she deserved better.

“Then I’ll swim with you,” I muttered, softly so not to break the way our eyes had met. She smiled again, gentler this time, and then plunged into the waters below.

I shook my head at her with an amused grin, working on making the rope long enough to reach the water.

I couldn’t even remember the last time I swam.

Eventually, I could get on the tugboat and lower myself down to the icy waters. Fair swam up to me, resting her scaled arms against the side of the boat, her head laid against them as she grinned her sharp grin. I could finally see her, close up, the way she was meant to be.

I reached out a hand on impulse and at first she retreated, startled, then she relaxed with a small smile, resting her scaled cheek to my palm. My fingers brushed her webbed ears and my thumb traced the smooth scales of her face. I smiled down at her, and she smiled back, sinking down to submerge her gills into the water.

I had worried I would panic, but per usual I found that I may have accidentally found a way to want her more.

I pulled off my shirt and left my shoes in the boat, dipping a hand into its cool depths with a frown. “I think it might be too cold for me,” I warned.

“I’ll keep you safe,” Fair promised.

I dove into the water, sinking beneath the waves before I could change my mind. Her hands wrapped around me, her eyes meeting mine. Through the waves of the water I could hear the most beautiful, calming song, and my whole body warmed instantly.

I gravitated towards her easily, a flush to my cheeks as we surfaced, my feet kicking but my hands holding onto her. She felt even stronger as her tail flicked against me, I could feel the density of her muscles, a predator in her natural habitat as she treaded the water.

I eventually eased up my fright and the two of us swam, or rather, she swam and I haphazardly paddled alongside – before eventually giving up and just leaning against the side of the tugboat to admire her. I think she enjoyed being watched (though I doubt she would’ve ever admitted it). I enjoyed watching her, her power and might and the way the water bent around her – she seemed so unstoppable, even terrifying.

I couldn’t believe her existence oftentimes, and this was no different of a situation.

When she finally tired, she swam back to the boat with a sigh, resting her hands against the wood with a frown. “Now for the hard part,” she sighs. I tried to help her into the boat as best as I could, but I thought it best to give her some space. For the brief moment of reprieve that I had, I admired the lovely blue of her tail, the shades overlapping in the moonlight.

Then, I was torn to her face as she began her painful transformation, her back pressed against the seat of the boat as her hands clasped over her gills. My heart clenched in my chest as I rested my hand on the back of her neck, to keep her head from hitting the wood, uttering frantic words of encouragement and sorrow.

In the end, I did what I knew she would do, and I sang. I don’t have a good voice, I’ve never been a singer and I never had the time for concerts and the like, but I sang to her an old lullaby my mother had sung to me as a child. Though she gasped for breath, she ceased her thrashing, as slowly her gills sunk in and her body rewrote itself.

“Sorry I don’t have a magical voice,” I muttered.

Fair laughed in exhaustion, her slow movements proving her disorientation as she lifts a hand to press to her forehead briefly. Then she smiles at me tiredly, and leans over to press a kiss to my forehead, leaving the sensation of electricity where her lips had lingered.

“Your voice is like morphine to me,” she whispered back, taking in a deep breath.

We heaved the boat up.

I stepped out onto the deck and held out a hand to her, she held onto me harder than ever, her soaked skin dripping against the wooden floor of the deck. She didn’t move though, her hands on my shoulders and mine, finding her waist just a little too comfortably. She stood there, watching me as her soaked hair clung to her face and neck.

I felt the way my heart thundered like nothing else I’d ever felt. I felt as though the floor might’ve come up to meet me, or I’d fall through the decking to the gates of hell. Her body wound to mine, her chest against my own, her hands coming up to my neck, cold and delightful.

I accepted my fate in the very second that she tilted her face towards my own.

And I kissed her, gently at first, her lips cold held against my own in brief unison. All but a peck, as we both pull apart and I see – briefly – some panic, worry, almost on her face. But all my worry had left, all I wanted was her.

When she saw this, she pulled me to her – in the way that held no promise of gentleness, her teeth catching my lip, and her grip with so much force I could imagine myself shattering.

She gripped ahold of me in a way that I feared my skin would tear, I leaned to her like a leaf caught in a whirlwind. I was helpless to her - willingly too.

Her body curled against mine as the kiss broke. I felt the breath bury against my neck as she clung to me, shaking. I knew it wasn’t from the cold as I wrapped my arms around her and lifted her up, resting her against the side of the boat.

My heart thundered in my chest as I took in a breath, resting my forehead gently against hers. “This is a terrible idea-” she shivered as my breath reached hers in my quiet words. “-You’re my captain, you’re-” who you are, I thought to myself, and I’m me, and we’re not the people for each other by a long stretch.

“It is,” she rested her forehead against my own and breathed in the air, her shirt clinging to her, my shirt utterly absent still. In the cold all I wanted was her body pressed against mine.

“We should sleep,” I whispered aloud. She pressed her lips to mine again, lingering as we held each other in our grasp.

“Then sleep with me,” she replied, a little cheekily, and much too vulnerable.

“I would like to,” I admitted, against my better wishes and judgement “...but we shouldn’t.” She closed her eyes for a moment, the corner of her lips quirked into a smile. “What?” I asked her, hesitating a smile myself.

“I didn’t ask what we should do, I gave you an order,” she raised her eyebrow and my heart stammered in my chest; the look on her face was warm and unforgiving as I knew I should never have admitted what I desired. “Kiss me,” she ordered, and no sooner had the words left her lips that my body was pressed to hers, her breath hot in my lungs.

She all but dragged me, stopping only to collect her clothes off the deck. I could have resisted in the seconds her pull was not on me, and I knew she would’ve let me go, somehow.

But I did not resist.

How could I?

#my writing #fairweather