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batchilla · 4 months ago

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False Accusations (You know I KNOW right? Chapter Two)

Let me first say thank you for all the kind reception part one received. It was … a surprise, and a welcome one.

Also, a massive thank you to @sunnie-angel for beta reading. If you haven’t read their work… Do yourself a favor and check out their masterlist!

This Chapter takes place over a few days in two mini stories., and I would appreciate being told if at any point this causes confusion. Currently how I’ve done it is as tilted segments. Content warning: this chapter has themes of sexual harassment in the workplace up to the point of groping (from an OC), and corruption. Proceed with caution. Be safe.

The morning after. You are going to murder your partner, Grayson. Perhaps with a gun. Maybe your own two hands. Or maybe you just need coffee.

It's probably the coffee thing. Coffee, then you’ll decide if you're going to kill him and how. As you sit at your table, surrounded by notes you’d made at 4am, the urge to throttle Grayson slowly subsides. You hadn’t slept a wink. You’d had a weird night. But if you were going to do this, help him find this killer… you’d need a plan for if it all goes to hell. A diversion. A plan so that if you’re made, maybe the killer will think you’re on the wrong track. A dummy investigation. But simultaneously one that you won’t overthink, so that you can devote your time and brainpower to the truth. Luckily for you, you have the perfect person to pretend to accuse. After all, your partner, Grayson, is an incredibly weird guy. 8:55 am finds you walking into the station sipping your third coffee of the morning, only to find Grayson sat at his desk. Shirt pressed, tie perfect, hair shampoo commercial glamourous yet slightly messy. The urge to murder your partner returns, just a little. How dare he be so… normal? So unaffected? How dare this man fight crime by night, and be smiling at you as he is now, chipper and bright and perfect, before 9am? The nerve. Maybe you could hit him with a patrol car and claim it was an accident. “Morning detective… Long night?”

Oh.. This fucker. Your partner, Grayson, is the most annoying man alive. You hate how badly you have to fight the urge to grin at the sheer audacity.

She looks exhausted, the poor thing. Dick remembered the feeling, but at some point he’d adapted to running on less sleep than was by any means reasonable. He hoped she wouldn’t need to. That this would be over in a few weeks and she’d be back to getting a full eight hours. “Morning Detective… Long night?” She glares at him like he’s caused personal offence. He raises an eyebrow at her to prompt a response. Inside though, he panics. Had he done something wrong? Could she suspect? No. no of course not. But whatever she said next would surely be important. It was a test of sorts. What would she say she’d spent the night doing? Would she betray his alter ego? Could she sell the lie if she didn’t? “Just had a night in, had a little too much to drink,” she shrugs, opening her bag and removing a notebook. Casual, calm, partially true and nearly impossible to disprove short of a blood test or breathalyser, and even then there was deniability. Dick nods, and looks back down to his computer to hide the grin that splits his face in half. He knows he can’t dwell on it, knows he can’t act on it, but it’s completely unfair that she was that smooth. That helpful. She’d agreed to help him - as Nightwing - instantly. Her words about how Blud owed him a debt had played in his mind on loop for the rest of his patrol. He knew what it felt like to fly. To flip through the air at dizzying heights, gravity a mere afterthought. It was cruel, frankly, that he’d found someone who made him feel even better than that, only for her to be someone he couldn’t be with out of principle and professionalism. It wasn’t that he objected to her as a partner - short of his family, she was possibly the best he’d ever met. Frankly, if she was transferred to Gotham, the bat signal would be turned on far less frequently. And he didn’t object to rules about dating fellow officers, especially one’s partner. Objectively it made sense. But it didn’t change the fact that her smile was the best part of his day. That on the rare times she laughed he could swear he heard an angel just straight up quit its position in the heavenly chorus out of pure envy. That when she’d said she’d help he’d wanted nothing more than to grab her face and kiss her till she was breathless. But he can’t. Or at least Dick Grayson can’t. A new voice breaks him from his spiralling thoughts. “Detective Grayson.” The man standing behind his partner's desk has a hand on the back of her seat, preventing her from swivelling around.

“We haven’t met yet, I’m Sergeant James McElroy. Seems you spent most of my first day back stuck on a stakeout.” “Pleasure.” he responds, with all the charm he’s learnt to use at galas and parties, forcing down the venom incurred by the way his partner had seemed to lose a gallon of blood at the sound of his voice, and the way she had seemed not to breath since the name was spoken.

He's not touching you. Of course not. He knows better than to do anything so blatant. It's how he’d gotten away with it for so long last time. He doesn’t touch you, or say the things he was so clearly thinking. He would masterfully walk the line between making you feel unsafe, alone, and naked, while never crossing over into anything actionable. Till one day he had. It had been in a crowded lift where he’d used the crush as an excuse to grab and to feel, whispering something vile in your ear.

He’d figured he’d gotten away with it when you tried to tell your captain and he’d asked if you had a witness. You’d thought he’d gotten away with it too. Till a uniformed officer, Janet Rodwell, had stepped up to have your back. You should have known, really. For the second time in 24 hours you feel like a fool. But while the first time it had been accompanied with a dizzying realisation of love, this time the realisation is dark and chilling to your core. You’d thought you’d won, that it was over. But he’s back and he’s not touching you, but you feel the ghost of his hands all over. You can’t win. He’d been sent away and you thought you were safe again, but he’s back and he’s a sergeant now. Because Bludhaven, as it is, rewards men like him. You can’t bring yourself to look over your shoulder at him, so you look straight ahead, across your desk and to your partner’s adjoining one.

It's not Dick Grayson’s eyes you meet though. They aren’t cheerful, carefree and beautiful. Well, they are beautiful. But they are angry, intelligent, and fierce. You meet Nightwings gaze, and you feel the claws around your lungs relax, even if they do not recede.

His partner did not rattle easily. Did not panic unnecessarily.

Pinned down by the Penguin’s smugglers, he’d thought their goose had been cooked unless he could work at his true capacity, so he had shot out the lights and gotten to work. He’d taken out nine, but been unable to find the tenth, until he’d heard the struggle.

She’d taken him down blind, without drawing her gun. When he’d asked her why she hadn’t, she’d told him she’d lost sight of him in the chaos, and was unwilling to risk it. He wished he hadn’t shot the light out so he could have seen it.

Still, he had been oblivious. It had hit him like a batarang to the face last night, in that moment where she agreed without hesitation to help him find a serial killer. He’d known she was beautiful, and brilliant. That he had a crush.

He’d realised last night he was in far, far deeper trouble than that. So, if she was frightened and upset by the presence of this man, then Dick would take his looming over her as a serious threat. He trusted her gut. “You haven’t introduced yourself to my partner, Detective—-” He’s cut off with a dismissive wave that boils his blood. “Oh we’ve met. In fact, she was my partner first. Until the misunderstanding.” There are many ways to snap someone out of a panic. He’s seen sheer rage do it many times. As it does now. “There was no misunderstanding,” she says, her voice firm, her teeth gritted. “Well. I want you to know-” he moves from directly behind her, to her side, leaning down over her, invading her space. Dick wanted to hit him. “I understand that what I did could have been seen as invasive, and you may have felt that I overstepped. I have completed a course, as demanded by HR, and will attempt not to cause you to feel that I have been inappropriate again.”

She takes a deep breath. He can practically hear her count in his head. He stands, moving around the desk to stand beside her, not quite a barrier but a comforting presence, or at least he hoped. “Well. Whatever occurred, we have work to be getting on with, if you don’t mind.” It takes a great deal of the restraint his training has given not to add the words ‘you bastard’, or something far more creative. “But of course. Detective. Detective.”

Your hands shake as you sit back down in your seat. Your partner, Grayson, returns to his own, his gaze - Richard’s gaze, never leaving your face, crumpled in concern. “I don’t want to overstep… but are you alright? What … did he do?” “I…” you want to tell him, in part. Or maybe you don’t, and you want him to know without having to go through the ordeal of rehashing it all. Maybe by consulting whatever ‘oracle’ he used as nightwing. But you can’t right now. So you don’t. “I… need some air.” Your partner just gives you a comforting smile, a nod, and lets you leave without question. Wingding in the window

It's five days later, on his patrol, when he notices it. The wingding left in her window. He stops on the roof of the building adjacent to her. As far as city roofs go, this one’s relatively nice. Someone’s placed some potted plants around, in an eclectic attempt at a rooftop garden. Some of these pots contain small pebbles as cover for the soil from the wind. Grinning to himself, he takes a handful.

Was this a good idea? No.

Was it deceptive? Well, no more than anything else he did as Nightwing… well, maybe a little more.

But it hurt, holding her at arm's length, when a part of his soul he tried to ignore yearned to be as close as she would allow. He knows it’s not good. He knows it’s a violation of the utter trust she seems to hold in Nightwing. Really, it would only make things even more messy for his chances as Dick. But he wants to make her smile. Blush, even. He knows she finds him attractive, and in both contexts, but he wants more than that. Over the last week he’s realised just how much he wants to have with her, and it terrifies him.

If it was simple lust he could deal with it. But it wasn’t, and so here he was, about to attempt the cheesiest move known to hallmark films, just to see if it would make her laugh at him again.

He’d managed to be professional while surrounded by highly capable, badass women in skintight clothes for most of his life. He’d had crushes before and gotten over them. He wanted everything with her. And that was not something he knew how to handle, given the mess of their situation. Dick shakes his head, snapping himself out of his doom spiral. He had a detective to meet, and a serial killer to find.

Bap. Bap. Bap. You look up from your book. You’d been getting ready for sleep, wearing your cosy pyjamas, curled up in bed with a book and a hot chocolate. You go still, listening. Bap. Bap. A pause. Then, the rap of knuckles on glass. “I ran out of rocks”

You know that voice. “With you in a moment.” You pull on a dressing gown, and take a moment to curse the fact that your slippers are rabbits before pulling the curtains aside. Nightwing is crouched on your windowsill. You lift it, stepping back as he enters through the window with all the grace of a cat. You know that you shouldn’t be embarrassed to be in your pyjamas, it's late, you had no means of knowing when he’d arrive. But he looked divine in that suit. An adonis. And you're in your old bathrobe and bunny slippers. Truely, you must have done terrible things in a past life. “Nice footwear.” Nightwing says with a smirk. Curse him. Curse his cheekbones and the way his lips look so damn inviting. “You picked up what, five rocks?” you sass right back. Nightwing makes a noise you suspect was supposed to be a scoff, but is more of a squeak. “Do you see a lot of pocket space on this?”

“Fair.” you say, leading him out of your bedroom and into your living room. He sits on your couch, one leg spread wide, the other’s ankle resting on its thigh, as you open a drawer on your coffee table and produce your masterpiece. Nearly five metres of red string. Names, photos, dates, all studded with pins so pressed so tightly in they haven’t a prayer of accidental removal. You prop it up on the coffee table.

Maybe your friends were right. Maybe you did need to touch grass. A line of thought for later. You look at Nightwing, who’s no longer relaxed and laying back on your sofa like he owned the place.

Its years of maintaining a poker face in interrogations and more recently, dealing with his shenanigans that prevents you from grinning.

He's as pale as you’ve ever managed to see him, and leaning forward now, elbow on knee and chin in hand. “Well, this is… impressive.” He sounded like he’d inhaled helium. “Shall we start with Sergeant McElroy?” you offer, smiling your best ‘there’s nothing wrong’ smile, enjoying making him squirm. “You seem to have … a significant amount of evidence against Detective Richard Grerson?” You fight the urge to roll your eyes as you take a ruler, poking your picture of him between the eyes. You hadn’t planned to do him first, you’d hoped to discuss evidence that would actually lead somewhere.

This was still going to be fun though. You take a deep breath, and pause for a suitable level of dramatic effect, and begin your game.

“Detective Richard Grayson. He’s my partner. He’s an excellent detective, and a good man. You might have heard of the charity he founded.” Nightwing makes a noncommittal humming noise. “But is it all too good to be true?” you ask, moving to your first notecard. “Exhibit one. He asked about the file. On its own, innocuous. But then, exhibits two through four. He’s prone to frequent disappearances on cases. He often knows a little too much about the criminal underside of Blud. Things that I have triple checked are not in any police database.”

You run a hand through your hair. “He’s a highly trained combatant. I once saw him take down nine men armed with guns, in the dark. They don’t teach that at the police academy.” “No? No.” Nightwing says, clearing his throat. “I mean yes. That is… suspicious.” “Incredibly. Which brings me to exhibit five. Now I’m no behavioural analyst or shrink. But I know my basics. Childhood trauma and instability can have… lingering impacts. I… don’t feel the need to dredge up his past, but I did look into it… and it’s grim. He was then taken in by Bruce Wayne. His relationship to his father, whatever it is, is something he’s even tighter lipped about then… everything else honestly. It’s not on the board because it’s circumstantial at best… but he has this skill of being able to hold long conversations and yet you come away not having learnt anything deeper about him.”

He was pretty sure he’d been nodding for a good thirty seconds at this point.

It would be funny if it didn’t hurt so much.

The worst part was that it was all well reasoned. Practical. He had done everything she accused him of. She had just drawn a far more down to earth conclusion, that he was a corrupt cop, rather than Nightwing.

It made sense. Too much sense. How could he shut this down without seeming invested in his own innocence?

That isn’t what causes his lungs to burn though. No. The root of that was that even if he’d forced himself to maintain a professional - if friendly - distance from her, he would have hoped that she trusted him.

But in this moment, looking at the evidence, looking at her holding that ruler to his photo’s face like a judge's gavel ready to condemn… he knows. He knows that she will never look at Dick the way she does as Nightwing, happy to see him, believing in his mission, ready to help as soon as he’d asked. Even if he clears himself of this crime, she would surely suspect him of others.

He’d known it, at least on one level, ever since he’d first met her. He knows it now all the deeper, and he wants to scream. Dick Grayson will never get to tell her how truly wonderful she is.

How highly he regards her.

How she is one of the reasons he keeps fighting for Bludhaven.

Dick Grayson will never get to tell her that he loves her.

But… perhaps Nightwing could have something. Because if she was his north star, then the way he’d felt when she agreed to help him had been like being engulfed by a supernova.

If she was water, then seeing her cosy and ready for bed and smiling as she let him in through the window had been an oasis in the Sahara.

If music was the food of love, her attempts not to laugh and stifled giggles over his peeps popcorn had been a symphony orchestra.

But he’d never have her as himself. Not at all. Nightwing though? She at least found him attractive. Aligned with his ideology. No, he’d never feel that warmth of 10,000 stars directed at the real him.

No, he’d never be able to be quenched by her life saving presence.

No, he’d never feel her laughter shaking his bones as if in a musical crescendo.

But even the dimmest and most distant star gave off some light.

Even the last drop in an empty water skin was better than nothing.

Even the memory of a melody could be sweet. True, he would only ever have scraps of her affection. True, he could flirt, and perhaps go even further… but he’d never truly be with her.

But who was a starving man to deny scraps of sustenance? He’d take what he could have and try to ignore the lingering hunger.

“Perhaps we should discuss… another suspect?” he prompts, realising how long he’s been silent. How long she had been too, watching him with a strange, concerned look.

She nods, and moves on to their Captain.

Dick is almost relieved when some ten minutes later Oracle calls in a robbery downtown. “Well - sorry Sherlock.” He takes a picture of her board for further study. “I’ll be around next week to continue this discussion, and look over this in my own time till then. Duty calls.” “Be safe,” She says softly, as he’s halfway through the window He looks over his shoulder. “As you wish.”

Taglist: @jasontoddproblems

@sunnie-angel

@stormz369

@love-theangel-blog

@torchbearerkyle

@interwebseriesfan24

@love-theangel-blog

@alwaysnervouswitchprince

@underlinekasis

@tiredsleepyandreading

@soradragon Banner credit is to @strangergraphics

If you would request to be added to my taglist, please reblog the fic. Honestly please just reblog it anyway? I worked hard on this. Nothing more demotivating than a fic getting only likes. If you want part three, reblog part two.

#dick grayson #dick grayson x reader #dick x reader #nightwing x reader #nightwing x you #you know I KNOW right #dc x reader #dc x you #detective reader

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er-osion · 7 months ago

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Grocery Store Shenanigans

pairing: Jason Todd x gn!Reader

summary: You and your boyfriend go grocery shopping

word count: 1.3k

warnings: one tiny bit of sexual innuendo, fluff

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“Did you remember the list?” You asked your handsome boyfriend as the two of you got out of the car.

“Of course. Did you remember the bags?” Jason replied as both of you approached the entrance to the grocery store.

“Of course.” Jason grabs a cart as you two enter the store. It’s 11 o'clock at night right now, and you and Jason are at one of the few grocery stores in Gotham that are open 24 hours a day. Because of Jason’s work as Red Hood, your routines can be abruptly upended at times but you’ve learned to adapt and overcome. You love him, so you do what you can to support and be there for him, even if that means sacrificing your sleep every once in a while.

Tonight, Jason took patrol off and you two spent the evening watching reality shows on your couch until you suddenly remembered you were out of vital breakfast and lunch ingredients for tomorrow. That’s how you and Jason ended up at the grocery store so late at night. You actually don’t mind that much, the grocery store is empty with the exception of the employees so you and Jason have the whole place to yourselves. It’s very quiet and quaint and you relish the privacy of shopping with your boyfriend.

You and Jason wandered to the produce aisle first, where you would read the list in your hand and then grab the item that was written down. Jason watched you calmly with an unreadable expression that still somehow held affection. Jason lived for these moments. The moments when life got mundane but he still got to share it with you. There was something so domestic about grocery shopping together, only doubled by the emptiness of the store that gave the two of you your own little world. You and Jason had to go grocery shopping regularly, what with your careful meal planning (and Jason’s enormous appetite) so this was an errand you both got to indulge in frequently.

“And the eggs…” You absentmindedly muttered to yourself as you picked out a carton of eggs and handed them to Jason to put them in the cart.

“Eggcelent choice, my love.” Jason quipped.

You snorted and rolled your eyes, “Leave the puns to your brother, Jaybird.”

“You’ve gotta be yolking me, Grayson’s puns don’t nearly measure up to mine.”

“If you don’t drop the sorry egg jokes you’re gonna have to scramble to find a ride home.”

Jason choked on his laugh and began pushing the cart so the two of you could continue your shopping. You made your way to the bread aisle and started filling the cart with your favorite carbs. Jason piped up again with a coy tone of voice, “Is your full name ‘food cake’? Cause you sure are an angel.”

Your head snapped toward him. You tried to conceal the smile growing on your face but your eyes, in betrayal, were full of mirth. “Are you seriously flirting with me in the bread aisle?” You asked incredulously.

“Why not? Just like you, bread is soft and delicious. I can’t think of a better place to make some moves.”

“Wow, you’re a real modern day poet.”

“Hey, if I put you in the cart with all the other loaves of bread, will you let me eat you when we get home, too?” Jason leaned forward against the cart so his figure was floating just before you, his eyebrow raised suggestively but his tone playful.

Your mouth dropped momentarily in shock. “Unbelievable. Jason Todd, you should be ashamed of yourself.” You tried to hide how flustered you were with a reprimanding tone, but you could tell by Jason’s smirk, that you’d failed.

“My question still stands.” He reminds you.

“As does your audacity, it seems.”

“Ouch. Here I am, so sweet trying to seduce you, and here you are, insulting me.” Your giant boyfriend put his hand over his heart dramatically.

“If I wanted something sweet, I’d bust into the grapes we have in the cart.”

“You have some spunk tonight.”

“TLC will do that to a lady.”

“But of course.” Jason agreed and moved the cart forward so you two could finish up your grocery store run. The two of you were walking side by side, chit chatting about nothing consequential. Jason then slipped his hand into yours and you laced your fingers together in response. His hold on your hand was firm and all encompassing, like a hug, it was unbelievably comforting. You brushed your fingers against his knuckles and from the corner of your eyes, you could see a relaxed smile grow on his face. Just being in contact with you brought a level of support and stability that let Jason relax in a way he never thought possible before meeting you.

The two of you made your rounds around the store and finally came to the check out. The tired college student at the check out greeted both of you with familiarity. You and Jason kept exchanging mischievous glances at each other, trying to hold back laughter at the checker’s obvious lethargy. After Jason paid for the groceries, you packed them back into the cart and the two of you snuck out of the building, as if you were newbie criminals robbing a store.

In the parking lot, Jason motioned with his hand to the cart with a prankish expression and you mirrored it when you processed what he was suggesting. You moved the food to one side of the cart and then Jason helped you into the cart. Both of you were full of giggles as you adjusted your seat in the cart. It was times like this, when you were especially appreciative of your boyfriend’s inhuman strength, it gave you moments to be extra childish with him. After you were comfortable, Jason reclaimed his spot at the handlebars of the cart and put flourish in getting into a ‘ready’ position.

“Okay, capitan, ready for take off?” Jason asked with faux seriousness.

You responded with equal gravitas, “All’s clear here, private.”

“Ground control has started the countdown. In 3, 2,…. and 1.” On ‘1’, Jason took off with a powerful speed. Both of you failed at holding down your laughter, the merry sound ringing throughout the empty parking lot. Jason expertly maneuvered you through the empty lot, wind blowing across your face. You gazed at Jason, your eyes full of love and admiration. It made you unbelievably happy to see Jason happy, as carefree as he could be, like right now. He deserved so much in the world, so much happiness, it made you proud that you could be a source for it. Your primary goal in life now, was to make sure the love of your life always felt at ease around you, and Jason made sure you knew that’s exactly what you did for him everyday. Jason met your gaze with equal pools of love. He’d never understand what he did to deserve you, but he’s grateful every single day that you’re in his life. You’re like oxygen. He doesn’t just want you, he needs you. Jason wants to be a constant source of happiness for you. He wants to make you laugh and smile as much as humanly possible, and if he accomplishes that by being a little childish with you, you bet your ass he’d do that everyday.

Your combined laughter and the light of your grins drowned out the sounds of traffic and sirens so customary to Gotham. There was nothing that existed outside of you, Jason, and this parking lot. Even grocery store runs were special with Jason, there was something so perfect in the domesticity you two shared. Like the expertly crafted epilogue in a romance movie, neither of you wanted this moment to end.

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #x reader #x you #dc jason todd #jason todd #dc universe #dc comics #dcu #dc x reader #dc red hood #red hood #red hood x reader #dc fluff #jason todd imagine

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ssahotchnerr · 1 year ago

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I saw your request for aaron hotchner valentine’s day! maybe an aaron hotchner x bau wife reader and they are all away on a case and they’re still there on valentine’s day and it’s been a rough case and y/n has been extremely stressed but Aaron makes sure she still feels special and treats her to a nice dinner and surprises her with flowers

too married

happy vday pt 2!!! cw; fem!reader, your usual cm case descriptions, mentions of food/alcohol, fluff <333

"it's disheartening, isn't it?"

aaron hummed from in front of you, fiddling with the key to grant the two of you access into your hotel room. "hm?"

"that we're here. on valentine's day." you could laugh if pushed, your voice sharp and inches away from wavering.

no matter how little the inflect, and even if you hadn't shown it at all, aaron still noticed it. he paused and turned back to you, a forlorn expression on his face. "sweetheart-"

"it's fine." you brought your hands to your face, frustratedly and tiredly rubbing your eyes for a moment. "sorry, i'm just looking for something to complain about. it's been a long day."

"a hard day." aaron added in your regard, reaching out to touch your arm soothingly.

your current unsub clearly hadn't felt the universal love within the air; he's been most brutal the bau had endured in a while. full of mutilation, a sickening signature, devolving by the minute.

truthfully it had gotten to you; you were finding it extremely difficult to compartmentalize, and spending most of the day staring at the graphic crime scene photos didn't help. at one point you couldn't bring yourself to look at the pictures, lowering your head down to the table and wanting nothing but to cry into aaron's shoulder.

but he was nowhere to be found, you've barely seen him. he had spent a good portion of the day conducting interviews, off following leads that only resulted in dead ends.

you did see him at lunch, but ignored his occasional, concerned glances. if you were to make eye contact with him, and despite how tempting that was, you would have lost it. in addition, the fact it was valentine's day, made it kind of worse.

sure, it was partly a hallmark, commercial holiday, but you couldn't help but yearn to be out to dinner with aaron - eating ridiculously priced food in a restaurant you could barely see him in, giggly and warm from the wine, serial killers being the least of your concerns.

and rather than going to bed to continue the night, you were going to bed to get a few hours of shut-eye if you were lucky - given the late hour and horrors of the day to keep your mind awake. before it was right back to where you had left off.

"besides, we're also too married to do anything too special, right?" you forced a laugh, the sound sounding foreign in the empty hallway. aaron internally winced, the strain and exhaustion in your voice tugging sadly at his heart.

you continued, "and if we were home, it'd be a quiet night-in wouldn't it? maybe we'd get take-out, watch a movie, go to sleep early."

a lie, but anything to make yourself feel better.

but, that's where aaron, without fail, always stepped in.

"well," he started, but didn't finish his thought - finally managing to get the room key to cooperate and pushing the door open, entering with you at his footsteps.

his back constructed your view, but once he sidestepped towards the bathroom to your right, he revealed a bouquet of red roses, chocolate covered strawberries, accompanied by a card waiting on the desk.

"i know it's not much." aaron explained as you froze, his hand finding the small of your back. "and it's not everything either, i do have more planned for once we're home but-"

maybe it was the near delirious exhaustion, the day you had, him, or all the above, but you only had one means of responding.

you grasped onto the lapels of his suit jacket, bringing him to you and kissing him so forcefully he nearly tripped up against the wall. aaron laughed gently in your mouth, but the kiss was long and deep, the two of you melting into each other.

not enough? it was everything, and the kiss alone silently proved that.

"thank you." you whispered once the two of you separated. your palms were resting on his chest, the fabric of his shirt soft under your fingers.

aaron smiled, the kind that caused the ends of his eyes to crinkle happily. "i love you. and although today wasn't how it should've been, and i would've loved to have spoiled you endlessly, and jack would've definitely been staying at jessica's for the night." his lips turned upwards into a light smirk, a wicked glint in his eyes before turning to their softness. "just like any day, i'm reminded how lucky i am you're my wife. whenever i'm with you, wherever we are, i'm home."

you blinked at him, in utter bafflement and awe. "how do you always know just what i need to hear?"

"because you're my beautiful wife, and like you said, we're too married." he teased, but his playful demeanor sobered, his voice lowering to a whisper. "i'm sorry you had a bad day."

"it's okay. it's better now," you answered just as softly as you looked into his eyes, stroking your thumb along his cheek before turning back to your surprise, "and when did you manage to do all this?"

"i can't reveal all my secrets, can i?" aaron quipped with a smile, pulling you in for another kiss. you reciprocated, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"happy valentine's day darling. and to many, many more."

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x you #criminal minds drabble #aaron hotchner drabble #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfiction #hotch imagine #criminal minds x fem!reader

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littlejuicebox · 1 year ago

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My Sun, My Moon

Pairing: Spawn Astarion x GN!Reader/Tav Summary/Setting: 6 months post BG3 / Part 2 to my other fic Astarion talks in his sleep. Rating/Warnings: PG-13 / In game spoilers / Alludes to sexual encounters / Mentions of past trauma etc / Pretty much all fluff / It’s so sweet it’s going to rot your teeth Word Count: 2.3K Notes: This is 5/5 Days of "Star-mas!"

*takes a bow* Happy Holidays! Hope you all enjoyed!

I'm also entering this into the #BG3HolidayFluffle23 challenge under the prompt "twinkling lights."

Click here to see my master list.

-----

After Astarion’s sleep-talking gave away his little secret, you’d spent nearly every waking moment anticipating the rogue’s proposal. You were horribly, terribly wrong every time, of course. You began to think that perhaps your original assumptions were right, and that an engagement would come much later on. Maybe he wasn’t quite ready. Maybe he was just planning and thinking about the future… the frustratingly distant future. He’d ask the question when he was ready, you reasoned; in his own time and on his own terms. You could respect that.

But then, on the eve of the Netherbrain Battle’s six month anniversary, you came home to a dinner that Astarion had cooked (almost) entirely himself. Candles were lit, table settings were placed, and your lover chose an expensive wine pairing for the meal. His steak was, of course, entirely raw while yours was seasoned and cooked to perfection. You were certain you had Shadowheart to thank for your half of the meal, but you’d complimented your lover and all his efforts, nonetheless. At the end of dinner, you were quite confident that this would be the moment you’d been waiting weeks for.

“I have something to say.” Astarion murmured, lithe fingers rubbing circles on the back of your hand as he clasped it in his own.

You practically felt your soul leave your body in that moment. Oh gods, you knew what your answer would be, you knew this was coming, and yet here it was, and you were still wholly unprepared. You barely fumbled out a, “Y-yes, my love? What is it?”

“I read your mail.” Astarion responded, his eyes flooding full of guilt at the confession. He expelled a small sigh, flicking his gaze up at the ceiling and then back down to you. “Darling, I know we have been discussing this for months, but I really don’t think we should go to the Underdark. You’re getting so many outstanding offers that require you to remain in the city. You’re the hero of Baldur’s Gate, for god’s sakes. I know you want me to be safe from the sun… but I can’t, in good conscience, do that to you and rip you away from so many wonderful opportunities.”

“O-oh…” Your chest deflates and you catch yourself frowning for just a moment. Astarion’s brow furrows as he incorrectly interprets the cause of your sudden mood shift to be the current conversation and not the crushing disappointment you were trying to shove aside. You quickly try to move into a more neutral expression, but the rogue is already jumping into another worried explanation.

“Darling... Please hear me. I love you more than anything, and I know you better than anyone. You will not be truly happy there, of that much I am absolutely certain. These offers you’re receiving will give you multiple avenues to build the life you want…. the life we want. Imagine the good you could do with that level of influence, my love! Let me help you; I can review contracts, negotiate deals… whatever you need to ensure your success. Do not throw away so much potential on my account. I simply couldn’t live with myself if you did.”

He was right, of course. The only thing you wanted almost as much as you wanted Astarion was to continue the good work you two had been doing for Baldur’s Gate.

You sigh and nod your head, squeezing his hand gently. “You’re right, my love. I suppose it would be silly for both of us to throw away so much opportunity.”

Astarion beamed at your response before leaning over the table to plant a kiss on your lips. You smiled at the rogue when he pulled away to look at you with adoring crimson eyes. Perhaps it hadn’t been the conversation you were hoping for, but it had been a good and much needed one, nonetheless.

-----

Tonight, you and Astarion decided to take a stroll around the city. You were following the vampire’s lead, ambling around the streets as he pointed out more than a few of his old haunts. He revealed some of the difficult moments in his past as you two meandered about… more than one of the tales nearly made you cry with an overwhelm of sympathy for your lover. But you held back, knowing the elf hated eyes full of pity almost as much as he’d hated Cazador.

You noted that Astarion seemed to look back on his experience with more acceptance now. You knew, of course, that there were likely an infinite number of stories he had not yet revealed to you and perhaps never would. But you were still happy to see a bit of lightness in him as he spoke his truth. He hadn’t appeared to have one of his episodes on the entire walk, and as you pondered this, you also realized his night terrors had only occurred a handful of times this month. Such an improvement to what had been an almost daily incidence when you two originally moved in together.

Before long, you and your love arrived at the docks, where just over six months ago you’d felt as if you’d been stabbed in the gut as you watched the rays of sunlight scorch the vampire until he was forced to run for cover. But now, you two stood there hand in hand, resting in a pocket of comfortable silence. Both of you were admiring the twinkling starlight, full moon, and dark, mysterious expanse of the sea.

“The stars were so much more beautiful in the wilds… don’t you think, my sweet?” Astarion asks, his eyes filled with wistfulness as he ponders the sky.

You utter a little hum of agreement as your mind flashes to the first night in camp, when you caught Astarion reclined on his bedroll, stargazing. You turned your head to look at the rogue and remind him of the memory, but found he disappeared from your line of sight. Your vision wanders down and there he is, bent on one knee.

Oh this had to be the moment. Just when you were about to shout yes before the rogue even had a moment to say anything, Astarion looks up and smiles, a small pouch of gold coins in his hand. “Look! I suppose it’s our lucky day, darling. Their loss is our gain, would— are you alright, Tav? You’ve got this strange look on your face.”

Gods, not again. You feel your face flush with embarrassment. In your excitement and overwhelm, you’d almost ruined everything and let Astarion know that you knew his little secret. You made the decision then and there that this would be the last time you anticipated his proposal; let it happen when it’s meant to happen. You were done playing the guessing game. You couldn’t ruin everything with your big fat mouth.

You nod your head slightly before turning to look back at the stars once more, taking a deep breath and hoping to settle yourself.

“Yes, my love. I suppose I’m just thrilled by the beauty of the stars and the full moon, tonight. And by your beauty, of course.”

The rogue stands up, tucking the small sachet in his pocket. He smiles and places a soft, loving peck on the apple of your cheek before wrapping his arm around your waist. The two of you look up at the stars once more, and you spend a few moments pointing out some constellations in the sky. Stargazing had been one of the first things you two bonded over in camp.

Astarion is watching you with devoted interest as you ramble on about the planets and the mythological creatures represented by the patterns in the stars. Finally, there is a small lapse in conversation, and you want to take the opportunity to kiss him, but when you turn, the vampire is once again out of your sight line.

When you look down this time, Astarion is looking up at you, holding a velvet box in shaking hands.

“Tav—" He manages to choke out, but then his eyes fill with tears, and he stops to blink them away, chuckling softly at himself. You immediately come to kneel in front of your love, hands pressed to either side of his face, silently urging him to continue.

The vampire inhales shakily, suddenly quite overwhelmed by the extreme vulnerability he knows he’s about to lay before you. But the softness of your hands on his face grounds him in the moment and he smiles, admiring the look of utter adoration in your eyes.

A couple of tears fall over the edge of his lash line, and you immediately swipe them away with your shaking thumb. Another chuckle escapes the silver-haired elf, and he shakes his head in disbelief.

“My love… I’ve rehearsed this for weeks. I’ve said it all out loud more than a thousand times, I’m sure. I’ve spent almost every opportunity in your absence practicing this. One time I even had Shadowheart pretend to be you while I rehearsed my grand speech. But now that we are here… I’ve nearly forgotten everything I wanted to say.”

You move forward to press a kiss to Astarion’s lips, your hands still shaking as you run your thumb over his cheekbone. “It’s okay, my Star. Please continue, when you’re ready… rehearsed or from the heart… I want to hear it all the same.”

Astarion nods just a fraction and inhales. The shaking hand that is not holding the ring box comes to lay atop your own hand resting on his face. Your love slowly, absently runs his thumb along the back of your palm as he gathers his thoughts. He stares into your eyes with so much love that you almost kiss him again but hold yourself back to allow him to continue.

Astarion exhales a shuddering breath and then continues in a reverent tone, as if he’s whispering a prayer, “My darling. I have lived long life. Much of it was a sad and hopeless one. When we were walking through the city, I pointed out several places where I’d encountered horrible things. Many of those things are still hard to talk about… some of it, I don’t know that I will ever be able to.”

You are crying now, from the overwhelming blend of sympathy for your little Star and palpable feeling of love in this beautiful moment. Tears begin coursing thin streams down your cheeks. Astarion wipes away the tears as they fall, though his lips start trembling from your display of emotion.

“B-but what I do know is that… in many of the places I pointed out, there are also memories of us. Of our friends. Of the time we spent together before saving the city and of the six months we’ve spent here after that. Little by little, we are taking places that only held horrible memories for me and turning them into places that hold feelings of hope and happiness.

I guess what I’m saying is that… these past six months have been the counterweight to two hundred years of misery. And I do not think I deserve you, but I cannot imagine my life without you. You are everywhere I go, everywhere I look, and every happy memory I hold in my heart. If you’ll have me… I would like to spend the rest of our lives, however long they may be, turning this city into a place of hope for us and for the people we hold dear.”

Astarion opens the box, and you gasp in true awe as he reveals possibly the most beautiful ring you’ve ever seen. At the center is a beautiful moonstone, emitting an ethereal glow that shines brilliantly in the darkness of the pier. The setting is gold, and an intricate sunburst pattern made in smaller gems surrounds the center stone.

“Standing on the dock that day, after that long battle… I had the thought that my life was ruined when I realized I could no longer stand in the sun. I thought I might never know true happiness again. But it turns out, that was the moment my new life with you began… and you’ve opened the door to more happiness than I could’ve ever imagined for myself.

Even if I never see the sun again, I have made my peace. I would make the choices I made to be here with you, on this dock, in this moment, again and again in every lifetime. You are my sun and my moon. And my darling, it would be my honor to be your Star for the rest of time. Tav… will you marry me?”

As soon as the question comes out of your lover’s lips, you instantly push forward to crash into Astarion, enveloping the elf in an emotional kiss. You both topple over from the sheer force of your ardor, and as you do, the vampire deftly snaps the ring box closed to protect it from spilling out onto the dock.

When you finally break away, panting heavily, both your faces are thoroughly flushed with excitement. The vampire looks up at you, scarlet eyes filled with absolute devotion. You giggle and press one more soft kiss to the rouge before taking your hand in his and pressing a kiss to his knuckle. “Yes, Astarion. Nothing in this life would make me happier than to share it with you.”

-----

Later that evening, the two of you are naked in bed after several rounds of vigorous celebration. You’re admiring your ring, which is still faintly glowing in the semi-darkness of your bedchambers. Astarion takes your hand and presses his lips to the ring with a small smile; his scarlet eyes closely examine the gem.

“I don’t know how it works… you would have to ask Gale. But the center stone glows when I think of you, you know.”

You blink, moving to touch the gemstone in the middle of the ring with curiosity. “But it hasn’t stopped glowing since we’ve been on the docks.”

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you since we’ve been on the docks.” Astarion replies simply, moving his hand to stroke your cheek as a gentle, good-natured laugh escapes his mouth, “Perhaps now you’ll have some insight into how often my thoughts revolve around you, my sweet.”

You feel your eyes welling with tears again. Damn this man and his beautiful heart… he truly never misses a detail when it comes to you. You move forward to pull his lips into another loving kiss, and when you break away this time, a thought crosses your mind.

“Astarion… did you really find that bag of coins on the dock?”

Your lover grins mischievously, his crimson eyes crinkling at the corners as he grabs your ring-clad hand and kisses it once more.

“No, my sweet. But I had to throw you off. Shadowheart told me about my mishap. I wanted to surprise you… but you know me far too well and you’ve never been easily fooled… and the sleepy confession didn’t help things at all. I just figured that you would never anticipate that I’d drop down on one knee twice in a row.”

Astarion knew you just as well as you knew him… and he had been right. He’d fooled you. You roll your eyes and chuckle as the rogue moves closer to you, nuzzling into the side of your neck where fresh fang marks throbbed.

“Now what do you say, darling? One more round of celebration before we go to bed?”

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lvverleavr · 7 months ago

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Mutually Exclusive | Entry One

Entry One: Memories Relived

༘ Jake x f oc (Annalise)

༘2.7k words

༘warnings: language, illusions to sex

A/N: This is a first chapter to test the waters on if I should carry out a full fic of this so I'd love any feedback 🤍

Summary: In an ongoing letter to Annalise, Jake tells the perspective of his early adult life— living out his dream with his brothers and her seemingly always by his side. But when the band gets signed to a record label based out of Nashville, Anna struggles with the ability to pack up and leave. With a complicated dynamic by the day his flight leaves, Jake outlines his struggles and worries from the day he left Anna. All things that flood back the moment she shows up out of nowhere three years later.

Entry One:

I vividly remember the first time I met you, you’re barely your own person at fourteen but you were already so– you. Josh had joined the theater club and he couldn’t shut up about you. He went on and on for hours about how you jumped on stage, singing when you were told to sing and even crying with real tears on command. It didn’t take long for me to be captivated by you as well– usually I found the best reason to be out of the house when Josh had the theater group over for practices but once you began to tag along, my social life seemed to free up.

These run ins seemed to be more frequent– you quit the theater club after your first year but you never stopped coming around. Your mother rarely left her bed much past getting a glass of water and your father worked himself to death by the time you were sixteen. Our house quickly became yours too and I never minded, you stayed up even later than me and you spoke in your sleep– I could hear it through the walls when the guest bedroom slowly became entirely yours to decorate, filling it with posters of Jeff Buckley and Stevie Nicks until nearly every inch of the wallpaper had disappeared. My younger brother began to tease me for how much time I spent with you– claiming it was some hopeless crush I had, chasing after a girl who had no idea I was infatuated with her, it made me wonder at times if he saw something that even I didn’t see. Even with the comments they never seemed to phase me, never seemed to shutter the bond that you and I had created. I was really locked in on the band once we hit our senior year, convincing Josh to dedicate a few days a week to the garage and even picking Sam and his best friend Danny up early from school some Fridays for gigs without our mom knowing. You always took our pictures, claiming if we were gonna be a good band we needed some half decent shots. My father lent you his old camera and you became our very own band photographer. Still to this day we’ll all agree that you were just finding a way to feel included on nights we had gigs. By the time we graduated I couldn’t imagine having anyone else behind the stage with us.

We even went to the same school after graduation, you stayed on campus to live out some 2000’s college girl movie dream but I stayed back home and drove to campus each morning. College bars paid us $200 a night for playing from eleven until three am and we took as many as we could get. I promised my parents I’d stay in school while we played, giving me some form of plan b I never intended on using but it was either that or she’d stop letting us take Sam into bars for our shows. Small dive bars at two am quickly turned into real gigs all around town, soon we felt like a real band with a direction being paved for us. Those memories have always been accompanied by the last semester I ever enrolled in.

•••

We moved you back into your dorm, the ice still covered the walkway as we carried the rest of your boxes inside the old building– smelling of damp carpeting and old heat units. You always needed more than you packed and it drove Josh insane every year.

“You have a kitchen, why do you need a second fridge for your bedroom–” He mumbles, trudging up towards the flight of stairs.

“I don’t know my roommate, I don’t want her stealing my drinks while I’m sleeping,” You shrug, swiftly cutting past him and down a small hallway, Josh turning to look at me as I meet him with a matching shrug.

He glances down, watching you tap an elevator button with your elbow which causes him to shake his head, “could’ve told me there was a fucking elevator for our first four trips up to your room,” He mumbles under his breath, looking over his shoulder as I pass, offering a gently pat on his arm before sliding past.

“I thought you knew!” You say defensively as I watch a small smirk spread on your lips. “There’s a big sign when you first walk in that even says it.”

Josh opened his mouth for a rebuttal, quickly clamping it shut with another shake of his head and tapping the third floor button. I couldn’t help but let out a small giggle, Josh’s gaze shooting to me immediately “What are you laughing at Jake?” He snaps, “All you’re carrying is a comforter, you wanna switch?”

I shrug, dropping the comforter by his feet before holding out my arms, grabbing the small fridge from his arms. “You’re a real complainer nowadays,” I say out to him as the elevator doors open, making my way down the hall first to see your apartment door open, “I thought you said you closed this,” I call back to Josh, the two of you trailing behind me.

“I did!” He calls out, “Maybe it's the wind.”

“No wind!” A voice called from inside the door, I took the first few steps in, noticing a set of boxes sat on the couch right inside the door. A short girl rounded from the small kitchenette, she held a grocery bag in her hand and her tight brown curls were pulled back by an old faded bandana. “Are you… my roommate?” She asks skeptically, smiling as I meet her with a quick denial.

“No sorry I’m– um– just helping with the move–” I explain, watching you round the corner.

“I’m your roommate,” You smile, extending your hand out from underneath the box. “I’m Annalise but you can call me Anna.”

The girl smiles, shaking your hand before shaking mine and Josh’s, “Juliet–” She replies, “and you are?” She asks, her gaze lingering on me a beat longer than anyone else.

The eye contact caused my cheeks to heat up slightly as if on their own, “Right. I’m Jake-” I introduce myself, her fingers slowly grazing my palm as she pulls away from the shake.

“Lovely to meet you…” She smiles, turning her attention back to you, “Especially you, Anna– I took the liberty of loading my stuff into the smaller room, had a feeling you already set up in the bigger one.”

I could feel your eyes on me as her touches seemed to linger on my skin, you rolled your eyes at me slightly before finally turning your attention back to what she was saying. “I’ll just be setting up all my stuff just let me know if you need me,” You smiled to her, Josh and I following closely behind you. “Do not even think about it.” You said to me the moment the door closed. I could barely put down the things in my hand before feeling your scowl on me.

“What are you talking about-” I ask, Josh giggling as he sat up on your bed, taking the liberty to rip open a few boxes while you stayed focused on me.

“I saw her looking at you. Do not under any circumstances try to fuck my new roommate.” Your gaze narrowed, pulling a box from my hands and taking it into your own.

“Who said I wanted to!” I ask defensively. You weren't wrong, she intrigued me to say the least but was it really that bad of a thing?

“Because I know you. Don’t do it” You warn, “I have to live with her for the rest of the year. I do not need to put up with hearing about you like that for the next five months.”

“She kind of looks like you a little” Josh chimes in as he picks through the box of snacks he very thoughtfully chose to open first.

“Ew no c’mon don’t say that” I groan, shaking my head. He was right, her hair was the exact same color, her eyes shone the same shade of green and even her smile had a slight crook to it like yours did.

“No Josh you’re absolutely right and you know what Jacob I hope it ruins it for you” You bite, tossing your comforter from the floor and onto the bed beside Josh.

“Whatever okay” I roll my eyes, watching as you open up another box “I'm not that terrible to hear about, don't act like i'm horrible.”

•

Those next few weeks I crashed on your couch between classes, even spending nights there after late Sunday gigs. It was better than driving back and forth to the house and Juliet never seemed to mind. One club had a standing gig with us on the first Sunday of the month, we played the last set of the night and we even started getting a regular crowd to show up and see us. It was small but had a real backstage, it felt like the real deal to us. “I’m not even here stop looking at me,” You giggled, waving Josh off as he kept glancing into the camera lens. “Jake you're next-”

Your voice was faint, my focus on the conversation I was having with Juliet as she tagged along for the night. Her hair was down, draped over her shoulders and it framed the heart shaped neckline of her top. I wish I could say I barely noticed how low cut it was but that would be a lie and she knew it. “No, I never really get the chance to go out to shows. I'm really excited to see you out there.” She smiles, leaning against the beam running floor to ceiling beside one of the curtains.

“The real show is from the front, you should make your way out to the floor to see.” I smile, feeling her fingers brushing my arm. She didn’t even hide that she was flirting with me and at one point I stopped caring and started flirting back.

“Jake-” You repeat, pulling me from my conversation as I look over.

“My turn?” I ask, still feeling Juliet’s eyes wandering across the features of my face as you nod. “Don’t move, hm?” I smile at her, offering a small wink before walking over to you. “Alright where do you want me?”

“Just go fix your hair in the mirror, I need more candid stuff” You say, your tone flattening from what I heard you using with Josh.

“You don't have to get all weird,” I mumble, taking my fingers to gently rake them through my hair. “It's harmless flirting,” You don't reply, the click of your camera is all I can hear, so I keep talking, “Even if something happens you don't have to know about it-”

“Stop talking your messing up the shot,” You finally say, and all I can do is sigh in response. “You can do whatever you want, I just don't need to hear about you two if it happens.” You continue after a few moments of silence, “it's gross.”

I can't help but chuckle, rolling my eyes “You're so dramatic.” Finally turning to look at you, “Like I didn’t have to hear about that god awful sociology TA you had ‘sexual tension’ with all last year.”

You grab a pillow from the small chair in the room, throwing it at me as I start to laugh. “We did, he wanted me and that's why I passed with a 97 on my exam. You're just gonna take the only friend I made here and fuck her.”

I roll my eyes, “You can be friends with her and I can fuck her, they’re not mutually exclusive.”

•

I spent that night on the couch, Juliet leaving for her own bedroom not long before you went to bed as well. I shifted on the couch, finally settling in before needing to shift again. It must've been near two am by the time I felt sleep crowding my vision, jolting back awake to the quiet sound of a door knob twisting open. The soft light from Juliet’s bedroom filled the space just inside the living room, enough for my eyes to adjust to her outline, she glanced at me, offering me a small smile as she noticed I was awake. “Did I wake you up?” She whispers softly, I shake my head in response, “Oh good-” Her eyes linger on me for a moment before making her way past me to the kitchen. I couldn't help but watch as she passed, the warm light outlined her silhouette, her shorts barely covered to her thighs and her shirt lifted up her stomach slightly as she reached into the cabinet for a glass.

“It’s very rude to stare,” I hear her whisper, my cheeks warming slightly as I realize she noticed my lingering stares.

“Oh um I’m-” I start, noticing a smile on her lips as she looks at me.

“I don't mind,” She replies, filling the glass halfway with water before leaning against the counter. Her fingers gripped the edge of it as she brought the glass to her lips. I sat up further, seeing her rested against the counter as she looked at me from over the back of the couch. “Anna didn't seem too happy that you were flirting with me tonight.” She says after a few moments of silence. “You two have something going on?”

I can't help but laugh, quickly clearing my throat to cover it up “Sorry no… no nothing,” I correct her, shaking my head, “She just doesn't wanna hear if something happens… The girls she’s friends with and the girls I date aren't allowed to mix apparently.”

She nods, setting her glass on the counter before stepping towards me. “It doesn't matter though if she doesn't know they mix,” she smiles, “right?” She was standing at the arm of the couch by now and I couldn't seem to pull my eyes away from her, all I could muster up was a small nod. “I’m just saying I’m not one to kiss and tell…”

I sat up the rest of the way, allowing her to sit in front of me on the couch. “You're not one to be subtle are you?” I finally ask, watching as she rests her elbow on the back of the couch, shaking her head as she rests it on her palm.

“I’m not… But then again you're not very subtle yourself” She smiles, watching my eyes trail to your bedroom door. “She's not gonna wake up… We both know that.” She says softly, my attention turning back to her as I feel her fingers graze my knee. Everything in those next moments felt like a blur, a sped up memory and before I could think her lips were on mine. My hand cupped her jaw as her lips pressed to mine, parting slightly as her tongue slid past my lips and dipped into my mouth. My thumb circled her jaw softly as my other hand dropped to her hip, my teeth gently tugging at her bottom lip which pulled a quiet moan from her. My mind swirled as I continued to kiss her, my lips were sore but I craved to taste her even more.

“We should stop” She whispers against my lips, I nod and kiss her harder and she gently tugs at my hair. “Or you can come in my bedroom-” Her words fell from her lips in nearly a whimper, I nodded eagerly, barely able to stand and follow her to her room before I kissed her again.

The night with her came in flashes, the sheer impulsivity of the decision stayed in my mind in bits and pieces but the most I could remember was waking up the next morning. She laid beside me, the blanket covering her bare chest as the sun just barely lit up parts of the room. I knew I wasn't supposed to be in there but I barely remembered even falling asleep beside her. I slid on my shorts quietly, slipping out of her room in an attempt to make my way back to the couch before you left your room, but stopping dead in my tracks as you stood in the kitchen.

“Anna-” I whisper. I don't know why the sight of you had me frozen in place, like I was caught in some terrible act. You glanced up at me, looking me over for only a moment before picking up your mug and walking into your bedroom without another word.

#jake kiszka #greta van fic #greta van fleet #jake kiszka fic #jake kiskza x reader #mutually exclusive

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lovepotionsandlust · 8 months ago

Text

Part 16

A brief authors note before the new chapter. This is a long one, it does include smut so 18+ only MDNI. There are mentions of death in this chapter as well. Things are going to get pretty interesting from here on out. Thank you all to the people who have been following along!

You had been many places with your family in the past, but Romania was never one of them. You were amazed by beautiful scenery. The small home you were staying in with the twins had one bedroom, they took turns sharing the bed with you, the other sleeping on the couch for the night. It had a beautiful window seat overlooking the green hills, and a clawfoot tub you could have only dreamt of. This morning you had woken much earlier than Fred and George, enjoying the quiet; you made yourself comfortable in the window seat. Taking in the views of the morning fog still rolling over the hills, you sipped your tea, you couldn’t help but to reflect on just how grateful you were for the two of them. Always making sure what you need, constantly making you smile, protecting you at every turn. Nothing about your situation was the typical dynamic that you could have imagined for yourself, but now you could not see anything else making sense.

“Room for one more?” Fred’s voice startled you back from your thoughts, causing you to jump nearly spilling your tea.

You smiled up at him, his hair a mess, sleep stills strewn across his features. You set your cup aside, opening your arms for him to join you. Fred happily climbed onto the large platform with you, resting his head on your chest as you wrapped your arms around him. Melting into one another, you both fixed your gaze back to the stunning view below. He pressed gentle kisses to your jaw line,

“How did you sleep? My brother didn’t snore too loudly, did he?”

“First of all, of the two of you, you’re the snorer Freddie.”

“Am not.” A small pout formed on his face.

“Are too.”

“That’s not true, take it back.”

“Fred Gideon Weasley, I have spent more than enough time sleeping next to you to know that you, are in fact a snorer.”

“You did not just full name me this early in the morning.”

“I sure did, and I will do it again if you’re not careful.”

He rolled his eyes, shaking his head, “Fine, you win.”

“What do I win?”

“The two for one special.” George spoke up as he entered the room, placing a kiss to the top of your head.

“How did you know that was exactly what I wanted?”

You adjusted your position so George could sit near your feet, he was quick to pull them across his lap; all three of you falling into place.

“So, what do you two have planned for us today?” you asked.

“We wanted to take you to the gardens today.” Fred replied.

A day in the garden with the boys sounded quite lovely, “I think I could fit that into my schedule.”

“We wrote that schedule sweetheart, so be ready by 10:30.” George instructed.

“And wear that blue sundress.” They said in unison.

***

As requested, you pulled your blue and white sundress from your luggage, laying it across your bed. You were still wrapped in your towel, your hair clipped back out of your face as you daydreamed about what the rest of today had in store for you. A pair of hands ran down your arms causing goosebumps to rise over your skin.

“Hey Freddie.” You smiled as his arms wrapped around you, his chin resting on your shoulder.

“I will never understand how you can do that.”

“Do what?”

“Always tell us apart so easily, most of the time you don’t even have to look to know which one of us it is.”

“Consider it a gift.” You shrugged.

“Our own mother can’t even tell us apart on our best day. How are we supposed to switch places anymore with you around.”

“I mean I could always go if you want, leave you two to your antics.”

“Don’t you even think about it.” His grip around you tightened.

“As much as I love being wrapped up in you, if I stand here like this, I am going to be late.”

“We have a few more minutes.” He pressed a slow kiss to the pulse point in your neck, your head lulled to the side instinctually, giving him better access. He continued to kiss down your neck, enjoying the feeling you closed your eyes, melting under his touch. His hands began roaming your body as he whispered in your ear, “I don’t think I will ever understand what I did in any lifetime to deserve you.”

“Freddie…” You whined out.

He chuckled lowly, “I better leave you to get ready, or George will be upset with the both of us.”

“That is so not fair.” You protested.

“You know I will always finish what I start, but you will just have to wait. We have something special planned for you in fact.”

“Oh?” you perked up curiously.

“But I can’t ruin the surprise, so you must be patient my dear.” Without another word he disappeared back out the door, leaving you feeling more needy than ever.

***

You made your way down the stone path, taking in the various flowers of every color and shape. You wandered in awe, the twins not far behind you; carefully watching your every move. You were more scenery to them than the ever-expanding landscape. You continued further into the garden, making your way through a stone archway, you were met with what felt like a never ending field of your favorite flowers. In every direction as far as your eyes could see. Turning back to the twins, you were met with a look of pride shared between the two of them.

“You knew?”

“Why do you think we picked this garden of all others?” George answered.

You smiled turning back around, no one had ever paid that much attention to the things that you enjoyed. Your heart felt so full, your cheeks flushed a bright pink as you continued towards the flowers, stopping to softly touch the petals. You felt the twins’ approach either side of you, George’s hand rested on your lower back, Fred interlocked his fingers with yours. Right here in this moment you knew you were destined to find yourself here. Surrounded by Fred and George, enveloped in their care and love for you.

“We got you something.” They both stated.

“What do you mean?” You looked up at them puzzled.

Fred outstretched his hand that was not interlocked with his, resting in his hand was a necklace. A gold flower identical to the ones in front of you, on either side of the petals was a crystal gem; one purple and one orange. It was perfect, the two of them on one piece of jewelry.

“We wanted to find you something that represented all three of us.” Fred spoke.

Tears threatened to spill over your eyes, you couldn’t look up at either of them for fear that you would not be able to hold them back.

George spoke softly, “If you don’t like it-”

“I love it. Can you help me put it on?” You held your hair up, allowing George to wrap the necklace around your neck. “Thank you both so much, you really didn’t have to do this.”

“We wanted to.” They reassured you in unison.

“I love you both so much, truly I can not express enough my gratitude for this entire trip, for everything you both do for me.”

“You must not understand just how much you mean to us sweetheart.” Fred said.

“I think I am beginning to.”

***

Freds hand was clamped down over your mouth, your eyes rolling back in pleasure. His fingers plunging deep within your soaked core, his thumb rubbing slow, strong circles on your clit. “So tense baby, let me take care of you, let me make you feel good.” He whispered in your ear, kissing his way down your jaw. Fred had his mind set on providing you with some relief and comfort the best way he knew how. Reaching down your hand grabbing hold of his throbbing cock, his breath hitched at your touch. “Now, now sweetheart, this is about you tonight.” His fingers angled upwards pushing on that sensitive spot you so desperately needed, your needy moans growing louder behind his hand. Your legs were shaking, struggling to catch your breath as the knot in your lower abdomen tightened. Fred leaned down taking your nipple into his mouth, running his tongue over it, grazing it gently with his teeth. Your back arched up off the bed as your release pooled below your thighs.

Stars filled your vision, Freds voice easing you back down to Earth, “That’s my girl, you’re doing so good for me.” Your eyes fluttered, his hand moved from your mouth to your cheek, pulling your gaze up to him. As Fred removed his fingers you whined at the feeling of emptiness, a pout finding your lips. “Tell me what you need, I’ll give you anything you want.” Tightening your grip on his hard cock you pleaded, “fuck me Freddie, please. I need you inside of me.” A satisfied chuckle escaped him.

“As you wish my love, on your side.”

Not wanting to waste any time, you rolled onto your side, your back facing him. Freds long arms wrapping around your waist pulling you close to him, his hand reaching between you, running the thick head of his cock through your wet folds. A deep groan leaving his chest, whispering in your ear, “you’re so wet baby, are you are you ready for me?”

Pushing your hips back to meet his, causing him to slip inside of you. A moan louder than you had expected left the both of you in unison. His fingers digging into your hip, gliding you further onto his length until he had bottomed out inside of you. Pausing for a moment to allow you to adjust to his size. He waited for your nod to keep going, he thrust into you at an agonizingly slow pace. You rocked your hips back against him, desperately craving more.

“Slow down, you know I will give you what you need. Let me take my time with you.”

“Please Freddie.”

“Baby, I don’t want to finish too early. You feel too fucking good right now.”

His praises caused you to clamp down on him, prompting him to pause his movements. “You can’t do that either, I am not going to make it.”

“Sweet boy, please fuck me harder, I want you to fill me up. Please.”

“You better be quiet then unless you want my brother to hear what I am doing to you in here. He is asleep on the other side of that wall.”

You nodded, part of you secretly hoped that George was on the other side of the door listening. Your attention quickly being pulled back to Fred as his hips started slamming into you at a rapid pace. Angling your hips slightly, the head of Freds cock hitting that perfect spot with every thrust. As another climax was rushing towards you, your moans became louder and shakier. His hand snaked between your legs to meet your swollen clit.

“Unless you want him to hear you, does my sweet girl want my brother to hear how good I’m making her feel?”

Your head fell back onto his shoulder, his words only pushing you further into ecstasy. You were not sure why the idea of George hearing you excited you; but you could not deny how much wetter you were at the suggestion. Freds teeth grazing your neck moving up towards your ear.

He removed his hand from your mouth, pulling yours away with it. “Then let him hear it baby.”

His rolled his hips up into you, causing breathy moans to leave you, “Oh f-fuck.”

“That’s my good girl. That’s my good fucking girl. Do you want him to come in here and help me? Is that what my girl needs? Another cock to fill her up huh?”

You nodded biting down on your bottom lip, you were feeling needier than ever.

“Then call him in here.”

“Are you sure you’re okay with that Freddie? You want to share me?”

A low chuckle left him as he slowed his hips. “Darling, don’t you remember I told you we had a surprise in store for you?” He pushed himself into you deeper, which seemed nearly impossible with how full you had felt. You struggled to keep your eyes open with how good you were feeling.

***

You laid there, waiting and wondering what the two had in store for you. Covered in nothing but a light sheet and a mixture of yours and Fred’s sweat, you were going impatient. The door pushed open slowly, you looked up to find both boys standing in the doorway a look of desire and mischief spread across their faces.

“So, we wanted to put a theory to the test.” George spoke first.

“And what would that be?” You asked.

“Well, you always seem to be able to tell us apart so easily when no one else can, you claim to even be able to do that with your eyes closed…” Fred trailed off, lifting a thick piece of silk ribbon.

“So, as long as you were comfortable with this, we wanted to see how much of us was all that similar.” George continued.

You smiled up at them, “Now you see, it’s not all the ways you are similar, its all of the ways you differ that allow me to tell you apart. I will play your little game, seems there is no way for me to lose now is there?”

***

With the ribbon securely tied over your eyes, you suddenly felt more exposed than ever, a wave of nervousness rushed over you.

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.” They both spoke from above you.

“I do want to do this, just don’t want to mess up my perfect score.” You joked trying to defuse the tension.

“If you do, we promise we won’t tell anyone.” They responded in unison.

A silent conversation between the two of them must have been shared as you sat there waiting to see who would touch you first. A soft touch to your inner thighs caused you to jump slightly, a set of fingertips trailed up closer to where you so desperately needed. You felt their fingers ghost over your clit so gently you weren’t even sure you truly felt their touch. A light tap was pressed onto your chin prompting you to open your mouth, which you happily obliged. Two fingers pressed over your tongue; you instinctually wrapped your tongue around them. The fingers were removed from your mouth, a warm drop of spit landed on your clit from one of the boys, their fingers now adding your own spit to your swollen bud, circling over it. Pleasure shot through your entire body as the perfect amount of pressure was pressed against you.

“Georgie.” You moaned out.

“That’s right.” He answered adding a light smack to your clit. A surprised moan filling the space between you. “Next round.”

His hands pulled away from you, a whine of protest passing your lips. With no warning you felt a tongue push its way through your folds pulling your clit between their teeth, sucking on it without mercy. Your back arched from the bed as euphoric moans escaped you. You felt two fingers brush against your entrance before being pushed deep within you, angled perfectly to hit that spot you loved so much. Between the perfect amount of suction on your clit and how precisely the fingers were fucking into you, your legs began shaking as your orgasm built. Your hands instinctually moved to his hair, a hand roughly pushed yours away, as all contact swiftly stopped.

“If you want to cum you’re going to have to guess.” They said together.

Your head was buzzing with your orgasm so near, you breathlessly spoke, “That’s still Georgie.”

A chuckle was shared between the two, “She’s better than I thought Fred, we may have our work cut out for us here.”

You smiled knowing the difference in their voices easily, “Talking in the third person, are we?”

Without warning George’s mouth fell back onto your core, his tongue around your entrance, lapping up your arousal. A strong swipe of his tongue moved back up to your clit, rolling and twisting over it. His fingers pushed back inside, fucking up into you relentlessly. You felt Fred’s mouth latch onto your nipple, his hand caressing your other breast. Your hips bucked forward, only to be wrapped with Georges free arm holding them in place. Fred kissed his way up your neck to your ear, speaking lowly to you, “Cum for him my love, you have earned it.”

This pushed your orgasm over the edge, your head lulled back as euphoria overtook you. Your leg wrapped around Georges shoulders holding him in place as he continued to fuck his fingers up into you, he let out a deep moan on your clit, the vibrations only adding to your pleasure. As your orgasm concluded, your limbs fell limp around you. Fred and George lowly whispering praises to you as you returned down to earth.

You fought to catch your breath as all contact from the twins concluded. Your mind was completely blank as you felt one of them position themselves between your legs. You felt the thick head of a cock running through your folds as it inched its way inside of you, stopping momentarily as it reached halfway. Two small taps to your abdomen prompted you to give your next guess.

“Freddie.” Was all you could get out, still breathless from your last orgasm.

“Good girl.” He spoke thrusting his hips forward to fully fill you. He slowly began fucking you, rolling his hips at the perfect rhythm, you could feel your walls clamping down on him. Your next orgasm was already quickly building.

Your mouth fell agape as soft whines left you, your hands gripped the sheets below you, trying to find something to ground you. A firm grip met your throat causing your eyes to roll back in your head behind the makeshift blindfold. You could recognize George’s touch as he spoke directly to Fred, “Do you think she has proven her point, or should we keep going?”

“Keep going.” You pleased under his touch; Fred chuckled above you.

“As she wishes.” Fred responded, then swiftly pulled his cock out of you, once again leaving you feeling empty.

A set of hands lifted your hips, as a pillow was propped under your hips angling them upwards.

“Tell us what you really want.” They spoke in unison. “Come on, use your words for us.”

You felt nervous to admit what you truly needed in this moment, “I-I need both of you.”

In one swift motion George pushed himself into you, his hips slamming into yours. You were on the brink of overstimulation, and it felt so good. “Georgie!”

Even this fucked out you could tell them apart. “God damn, even after my brother has been in here fucking you senseless, you’re still so god damn tight.” He pulled his hips back slightly, slamming back into you, rolling his hips in a circular motion.

You felt Fred approach the side of the bed turning your head towards him, you opened your mouth willingly. The heavy head of his cock fell on your tongue before he reached up to pull your blind fold off. “I need those eyes on me baby.”

Gripping the base of his cock, you kept your eyes locked on his. Enjoying how intensely he was watching your every move, you pressed slow wet kisses up the base to the tip. His jaw fell slack, his eyebrows furrowed together, “oh fuck…” left him just loud enough for you to hear. You wrapped your lips around the tip, pulling in the salty but sweet taste.

George continued to fuck into you at a rapid pace, causing you to jolt forward, pushing Fred’s cock deeper into your mouth. You moaned around his thick length as Fred began fucking into your mouth, both thrusting in unison with one another. You felt their hands roaming your body as they used you completely. You fought to keep your eyes up at Fred as, yet another orgasm rushed through your system.

Fred and Georges hips both hurried to catch their own climaxes, as they reveled in the way you felt around them.

“That’s our good girl, taking us so well.” They spoke.

Fred’s hips faltered first, pushing as deep as he could into your mouth as hot ribbons of his cum poured down your throat. He pulled out leaving a string of saliva and cum falling from you. Georges hands met your thighs pushing your legs back further to gain better access. His hips pounded into you rapidly, you moaned loudly as he continued.

“Fuck, I am about to fill this pretty pussy baby, are you ready?” He asked.

You nodded up at him, unable to form words at this point. George pushed his hips flush with yours cumming deeply within you before collapsing above you.

You laid there a limp, dripping mess, fighting to catch your breath. Unable to move or open your eyes at this point. After a few moments you felt two sets of hands on you, warm wash cloths being run up your legs, cleaning you gently. The twins worked in unison to pull clean pajamas over you. George repositioning you as Fred changed the sheets around you, tucking you in snuggly. A gentle kiss being pressed against either temple by each of them, before letting into the exhaustion falling asleep.

***

The twins had allowed you to sleep most of the next morning, only awakening to the sound of their banter from the other room. You opened your eyes to find a steaming cup of your favorite tea on the bedside table waiting for you. Making your way to your feet you were met with the undeniable ache in your thighs and hips. You took a moment to find your balance before tiptoeing your way to the living room. You did not want to disrupt them as they were deep, you turned back around making your way to the bathroom. A bubble bath in that tub sounded amazing right now, they could come find you when they were done.

You slid your way into the warm water, your muscles already thanking you for the relief. The aroma of the bath oil filling your senses as you sunk lower below the bubbles. Resting your head back on the tub you sat looking up at the ceiling, a blush filling your cheeks reminiscing about the events of the night before. Your hand reached up to grasp the necklace from the twins, you could never deny how much they loved you. Nor could you deny how deeply you loved them in return. Nothing could have prepared you for the relationship between the three of you, but you were so grateful for everything they have done for you.

Dipping your head below the water, you ran your hands through your hair before resurfacing. Opening your eyes you were shocked to find you were no longer within the bathroom, looking around you could have sworn you were back at Hogwarts, but the walls looked crumbled and worn. A blue hue coated your sight, your mind quickly flashed back to your divination classes, you were having a vision. You had not had a vision since you dropped the class, why now? You stepped out of the water onto the marble flooring, grateful your robe was still draped over the edge of the tub, wrapping yourself with it. You were in the basement of the castle; groups of students ran past you without being able to see or hear you.

You made your way deeper through the halls, searching for a reason as to why you had been brought here. A commotion to your right caught your attention, it was Fred and Percy. You watched closely as they fought side by side. Percy said something you could not hear, causing Fred to laugh, as he turned to respond to Percy, a large explosion rang out. As the smoke cleared you saw Fred lying on the ground not moving.

“No!” You screamed out, running to his side. As you approached him, a blue mist overtook your vision, only clearing to bring you into the great hall. You saw yourself laying across Fred’s lifeless form, sobbing into his chest. George was holding onto Ron, both sobbing as Molly sat behind Fred on the floor brushing his hair back. The look on George’s face was unlike anything you had ever seen. You could not bring yourself to look at Fred’s face, his hands covered in scrapes and dirt.

The version of you in the vision quickly jumped to your feet, you took off running back into the battle. George calling out for you begging you to stop, you completely ignored his pleading. You followed yourself into the courtyard, watching as you dueled with multiple death eaters, each of them finding the same fate at your hand. Tears streamed down your face as you battled fiercely against the others. After nearly a dozen death eaters were strewn across the ground around you, you fell to your knees. An earth-shattering scream left you as you clutched your chest.

The blue mist took over your sight, your breath quickened terrified of what you would see next. You were at the burrow, standing in front of George who looked absolutely shattered.

“You can’t leave me! Please don’t do this!” he rang out.

“George I can not do this anymore! I can not continue to look at you and see his face every day. It is destroying me!”

“I have already lost my brother, please don’t walk away from me. Without you both, I have nothing! I love you, have I not proven this?”

“I love you too, more than you can ever understand Georgie, but I can’t do this anymore.” You watched as you walked away from George.

Once again, the blue mist covered your eyesight, once again finding yourself at the burrow. Your hair was shorter, you were sat in the living room, Ginny sat on one side of you, Molly on the other. Arthur stood at the window his hand covering his mouth as he watched out the window silently. Ginny holding your hand seemingly consoling you, Molly brushed your hair back.

“He’s coming.” Arthur spoke. A look of panic washed over your face as you looked up at Ginny.

“Don’t worry, we will stay with you.” She reassured you.

George walked in the front door, seeing Arthur first, “what is that look about?” He asked, not yet noticing your presence on the couch.

“Hey Georgie.” Your shaky voice rang out.

All the color drained from his face as he turned to you, “What are you doing here?”

“I knew I shouldn’t have come.” You said to Molly, tears welling in your eyes.

Arthur’s hand clamped down on George’s shoulder, “You are going to hear her out.”

“She abandons me when I need her most, disappears for months, and I should hear her out? You’ve gone mad.”

“George Weasley, I know that I raised you better than that. Now you listen to what she has to say.” Molly spoke sternly as she stood.

He rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “Fine, you want the floor, you have it.”

You shared a look with Ginny as she helped you to your feet, Georges eyes fell to your swollen abdomen. Shock flushed through his features as his eyes flashed between Arthur and Molly. Arthur nodding at him.

“You’re pregnant?” He asked, his tone softening.

You nodded, unable to fully meet his gaze. “It would seem that the last night the three of us shared before… before we all lost Fred, was a bit more productive than we thought.”

“Is it- who’s is it?” He was frozen in place, not sure what answer he was looking for.

“Doctors say there is no way to know for sure.” You answered.

“When did you find out?”

“A couple weeks after I left.” George opened his mouth to respond, Ginny shot him a glance telling him that he needed to let you finish. “I didn’t know what to do, the loss of Fred nearly buried me right with him, the hurt of everything that happened made me so angry. Looking at you I was constantly reminded of him, which slowly became too much for me. Turns out that on top of the grief and loss, I was also experiencing the mood swings thanks to these two.” You rubbed your stomach.

“These two?” George was sure his knees were going to give out from below him.

You chuckled slightly, “Yeah, seems the twin gene only was passed on.”

Looking back up you were met with George standing in front of you, “So, what does it mean that you are back?”

“I am going to leave that up to you, I miss you so much, leaving was a mistake. I can understand if you hate me, if you want nothing to do with me or the babies, but I had to tell you. I am sorry it took me so long.”

He reached out to touch your stomach, pausing nervously. You grabbed his shaky hand, closing the distance between you. He smiled weakly as tears began streaming down his face.

The blue mist cleared pulling you back into the tub. You were gasping for air as you attempted to regain your composure. You hurried out of the water, pulling a towel around yourself. Everything you had been shown had happened so fast, you could barely comprehend everything you saw. You hurried your way back down the hall to find the twins. They were still deep in conversation, your presence pulling their attention. Concern rushed over them as they noted your panicked expression, both rushing to your side.

“What happened?” Fred asked, looking you over.

Gripping onto his shirt, you buried your face into his chest breaking down into tears. His arms wrapped around you protectively. George moved behind you to go check the bathroom for any signs of what had happened.

He returned shaking his head at his brother, “Sweet girl, please talk to us.”

Between choked sobs, “I- had a v-vision.”

“You’re back now, its okay.” They said in unison.

You knew you could not tell them what you had seen, but you also knew you had to do something to change it. You would not be losing either of them, no matter what it cost.

#fred weasley #fred weasley imagine #fred weasly x reader #george weasley #george weasley imagine #george weasly x reader #weasley fanfic #fanfiction #weasley twins #fredweasley smut #george weasley smut #harrypotterau #harry potter oc

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inaris-mage-of-storms · 9 months ago

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}{ I Found Love Where It Wasn't Supposed To Be }{ An Empires S1 Scwhip AU }{ Content warning for suicidal thoughts. }{ next part }{

Tyrant.

Madman.

Demon sympathizer.

Scott sighed. Or he thought he did; the wind snatched away his breath so thoroughly he couldn't really tell. It stung what little skin was exposed on his face, but the sharpest part of it was the way he could hear his people's complaints in its howls.

He'd tried his hardest, these last three years, and Rivendell was well on its way to...maybe not a full recovery, but as full a recovery as any empire would have been able to manage given the circumstances. Sure, it had meant he had to make some less than popular decisions, but his kingdom was stronger because of it. His people were sheltered and fed while so much of the rest of the world shivered and starved. But because he also extended one hand in forgiveness to a former enemy and the other in offering to former allies, his efforts were for naught.

You should have died, your majesty.

Now the wind sounded like his longest-serving advisor. You should have died, the old man had told him, and Scott knew it wasn't an expression of surprise, but an admonishment. That the Rune Blade failed to kill him wasn't a miracle, but a mistake.

The wind and snow grew so cold it chilled even him, and Scott smiled bitterly. Well. No one could say he wasn't one to correct his mistakes. Let the blizzard take what the blade couldn't.

There was a cave near the top of the desolate mountain Scott climbed now, one only he knew about. Though calling it a cave was being generous; it was closer to a sheltered nook amidst the rocks for all the space it offered, barely large enough for a single elf in a traveling cloak. If he'd carried any supplies besides the waterskin and dagger tied to his belt, it would have been a tight fit. As it was, he knew from experience that there was just enough space to curl up inside and ice himself in. The water with him would last a day, and when it ran out he would have a few more after that to lie alone with his thoughts before it became absolutely necessary to leave in order to seek out food and fresh water.

Scott squinted through the blowing snow, finally able to spot his destination. His plan was the same as it had been the last two times he came here. If he was meant to keep going, the handful of days in isolation would be enough to clear his thoughts and let his resolve return. If he was meant to keep ruling, he would find the motivation to leave the cave. And if he wasn't...well. Xornoth was always complaining that Scott didn't get enough sleep. A very long rest in a frozen tomb should at least rid him of the bags under his eyes.

Despite his macabre jest, the thought of his sibling was the only regret that tugged at Scott's heart and whispered that this might be a mistake. Despite their attempts at atonement, despite it being their magic that brought Scott back from the brink of death, and despite their invaluable assistance in Rivendell's recovery after the cataclysm, the empire shunned them for their sins. It was only a hotly contested decree from Scott that allowed Xornoth to return to the land that had exiled them. Scott was the only one in all of Rivendell to speak to them or even acknowledge their presence most days. If he didn't return, they would be entirely alone.

But even that wasn't enough to cut through the dark fog that weighed down his thoughts. He'd spent so long working himself to the bone for his empire, and for the empires of his friends - the ones that had survived, anyway. But like Xornoth, Scott was utterly alone except for the awkward, fragile bond with his sibling. Pearl was dead. Lizzie had been found wandering, nearly unresponsive, and every second of Joel's time was spent caring for her. Everyone else was just...gone. Even Jimmy had disappeared, and Scott's stomach churned with unease every time he let himself think about what could possibly have prevented his betrothed from coming back to him. Some months ago an apologetic Fwhip had returned from wherever he and Gem had fled to, swearing that he would help the survivors of his empire rebuild. But then he vanished again, and Scott's hopes of having one remaining ally vanished with him.

Once, Scott had exiled himself to a frozen mountain to be alone. Now, he exiled himself to a frozen mountain because he was alone. He was so, so lonely these days. The end of the world had strengthened so many bonds across the empires as people clung desperately to what remained, but it had severed all of his. Every effort he'd put into finding the missing rulers came up empty. His advisors questioned every decision he made with suspicion, and far too many of his people looked at him with fear and anger.

He'd done all he could, and then some. There was nothing left to do now except this. Scott squeezed into the cave, and with the smallest curl of his fingers, a wall of ice swept across the entrance and cut him off from the blizzard. From the world. Scott sighed, his back to the wall, then slid down to the ground. He was really, truly -

- not alone?

His hand brushed something that was neither stone nor snow, and he looked down with a start. The ice was so thick that it turned the midday sun into twilight, and he could barely make out the shape huddled into the corner. Even so, the scales he felt under his palm as he ran his hand over the form were unmistakable. In a secret cave near the top of an uninhabited mountain in the middle of a blizzard, Scott found himself in the company of a dragon.

It took only seconds for Scott's shock and confusion to turn into worry. The mountains of Rivendell were colder than those of any other empire by far, and this was one of the coldest. Dragons, no matter what type, were by nature creatures of heat. Larger ones could rely on their own strength and magic to keep warm in chilly environments, but this one was small. It was almost as small as Gem's hatchling, despite what seemed to be the proportions of an adult, and its breath was faint as it slept. No warmth emanated from its dark scales; it was as cold as the ice that encased them both.

Cursing his decision to not bring a tinder box or even a small flint, Scott bundled the dragon into his robes and against his body before he could even think about it. Maybe, like him, the creature had come out here to die. But maybe it hadn't. Careless as he was with his own life, Scott refused to be careless with the lives of others. And certainly not now, when so few lives remained. Every one of them was more precious than ever.

The ice crumbled easily with a flick of his hand, and Scott had never been so grateful for the strides he'd made with his magic these last three years. Even the wind was weakening, though he couldn't tell if it was coincidence or conscious effort. It didn't matter; there was no time to think about it. Scott stepped out of his intended tomb, unfurled snowy wings from under his cloak, and raced toward the warmth of home.

}{

Warmth.

That was all Fwhip had the strength to be aware of, that smallest bit of warmth against his frozen body. He didn't know what it was or where it came from, but he didn't have it in him to care. He'd been so, so cold for so, so long, and now there was warmth again. The source didn't matter.

Where was he? He couldn't remember. He'd been attacked...somewhere. By someone. He was vaguely aware of that, but no details came to mind. Someone versed in magic, surely; he could feel the invisible chains of a curse wrapped tightly around his own magic. Around his body, binding his form to something small. Around his throat, binding his ability to communicate.

It didn't matter, not right now. Fwhip would find the strength to be furious later. He was just grateful that there would be a later, thanks to this small spark of warmth. For now, Fwhip allowed darkness to keep its hold on him a little longer as he slipped back into slumber.

}{ next part }{

#file: storm writes things #been actively working on the next chapter of i have dined with kings but needed something else to work on when that one gets frustrating #so we're going back to old habits of stream-of-consciousness'ing a first draft to clear the cobwebs out :D #empiresfic #empiresshipping #scwhip #file: dragon au

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climbthemountain2020 · 3 months ago

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What Are You Doing New Year's Eve? - Ch. 3

Ch.3/5 | Ao3

Elucien Holiday Fic for the @acotargiftexchange

I forgot to post my art yesterday, so you get a triple surprise today, @itsybitsybluesy <3

NSFW in big, red letters! :)

Lucien POV

Lucien woke up with the sun in his eyes and his cock in his hand. It was late, later than he normally slept, and the night spent drinking with Jurian while Elain and Vassa had gone into town to help prepare the village for the coming celebrations was not doing him any favors.

He was hard as he gripped himself, his hand tight around the base, even in sleep. He felt as though he were about to burst from his own skin, every second bringing him closer to potentially just collapsing from the tension of it all. Beron hadn’t been able to kill him. Neither could his brothers or Amarantha. But Elain and her sugared lips, the smell of her arousal swimming in the air between them, might just do him in.

Here lies Lucien Vanserra, died of perpetual edging.

He lazily stroked up once and then again, closing his eyes as he tried to focus. Tried to imagine it was Elain’s soft, delicate hands wrapped around him instead of his own. He was so achingly hard that it hurt, the urge to drive into something so overwhelming he could barely see.

A crash from downstairs told him it was time to stop moping with his hand in his pants. With all the willpower that he still possessed, Lucien removed his hand from his undershorts, pulled up to sitting on the edge of the bed, and stretched. Could he dip just his lower body into a bath of ice cold water? Perhaps that was the best course of action.

He rolled his eyes as another crash sounded downstairs, accompanied this time by the sounds of shouting and annoyed voices. Jurian and Vassa must be awake, then. They sounded annoyed, but honestly it could just be a normal conversation between the two of them. They were at each other’s throats as often as they were under the sheets. And against the shed. And on the couches.

Lucien grimaced.

He did love living here with his friends, but he’d also learned what to expect. He hoped they were behaving with Elain around.

When he finally emerged downstairs, the two had moved to the kitchen, finishing the remnants of breakfast. Jurian’s hand was on Vassa’s back, and it looked like he was comforting her.

“I’m just so sad. I was really looking forward to it.”

Lucien grabbed a plate of eggs and bacon and slid into the eating nook. “What’s going on?”

“Something happened in the village. A shipment was missed, and now the whole village might be going without their Christmas ceremony.”

Vassa typically ruled from afar at their house in the woods. She returned to the castle on the other side of the village a week each month, Jurian in tow, to deal with necessities that couldn’t be dealt with at a distance.

This did not seem like something that could be dealt with at a distance.

“We were supposed to go pick the tree today.” The disappointment is Vassa’s face was clear. Lucien knew full well how hard the past few years had been for Vassa, and he knew how much she’d been looking forward to a real, normal holiday in her own home.

Jurian rubbed his hand over her shoulder. “It’s alright, love. We’ll go to the castle, sort out what’s happened, and be back by tonight.”

“But the tree–”

“We can get the tree. I can help Lucien.” He nearly jumped out of his skin at Elain’s sweet voice so close behind him. He’d been so focused on the conversation, the steady beat of her heart so close the past few days, that he hadn’t heard it getting louder. It was hard to sneak up on Lucien, but Elain continued to in more ways than one.

“This could take all day.”

“That’s alright. I didn’t have any plans. Did you, Lucien?” Her sweet voice aimed at him sent shivers down his spine.

“No. None for me.”

Vassa’s eyes searched them both, wide from hope and relief, then narrowing with mischief and understanding. “Perfect, then. Elain and Lucien will get the tree, and we can all decorate it tonight. Thank you both so much for doing this.”

Elain smiled. “What else were we going to do all day?”

Lucien could certainly think of a few things.

+++

The woods were quiet as they trekked out into them, a light snow falling, but not yet cold enough for it to stick to anything but the branches and leaves. The way Elain kept looking around captivated him. It wasn’t like she never saw snow in Velaris, but Lucien doubted Elain spent much time out in the wilds surrounding the city alone. It was peaceful here, nothing but the occasional chirping of cardinals through the quiet air. The forest floor was coated in fallen pine needles, muffling the sound so everything seemed cushioned, quiet, contained, and just for them.

The flakes of snow caught in her long hair and eyelashes and sat for just seconds before melting. With her bright eyes and flushed cheeks, Lucien thought she’d never been more beautiful. He sent a small burst of warmth her way, willing it to encircle her as they walked. It was simple magic, just parlor tricks really, but it was something small he could do for her out here. He saw her relax, her shoulders dropping as they continued on.

“I like when you do that.” The simple admission had him fighting for composure.

“Do what?” He grinned when she looked back at him with a knowing expression.

“I didn’t know it was you, at first. I thought, perhaps, it was an enchantment on Feyre’s gardens to help keep me warm. It wasn’t until the day you saw me pulling the brambles from the crocuses that I realized it had been you all along.”

It had been you all along.

He played the words again in his mind. It hadn’t been what she meant, but the sound of it sounded so good in his mind, he’d wondered if he was hallucinating.

“It’s the least I could do.” She hummed in response, pressing forward into the trees. The Human Lands were not like Prythian, Lucien had found. Their evergreens grew in specific areas deep in the forest. Last year, Vassa and Jurian had explained to him that trekking deep into the woods to find a tree was part of the fun. He wasn’t sure he bought it.

It was , however, gorgeous out today. The snow fell lightly around them, and he loved how his lungs burned a bit with a deep inhale. Lucien had grown up in the woods, though it rarely snowed in Autumn, and he did love a good walk through the trees. Sometimes, even after he’d moved to Spring, he’d be in the woods and think he heard the trees speaking to him. His apathetic nature told him to brush it off as his mind playing tricks on him, but the Autumn woods he grew up in felt older than time itself, and reminded him that there was also magic within them that ancient, too. It was never wise to discount anything, even in the Human Lands. He tried to listen closely, see what secrets the pines might have for him as they were slowly but steadily covered with snow, but these specific trees seemed to tell him the same thing he already knew as he passed the same copse for the third time: they were lost.

He was attempting to lead the way, keep to the path that he thought he remembered from last year. His instincts told him that they were close, and he could smell the very specific type of pine in the air, but he had slowed a bit to try and track it.

“Are you sure you aren't lost?” Elain looked at him coyly as she asked, teasing him a bit as she did.

“I’m not lost,” he deadpanned. He’d be mortified to be lost in the woods. A son of Autumn, twisted up somehow in the forest.

“Do you know where we’re going then?”

“Elain, I know what the definition of lost is. I know where we are.” Lucien did not know where they were.

“Oh?” The amusement in her voice was barely contained. He thought, with anyone else, he might be annoyed. But this teasing back and forth between them was so new, and so special, he couldn’t bear to think of her stopping. “You could have fooled me.”

The image of him taking her over his knee flashed through his mind unbidden. He wanted to spank the sass out of her until she saw white. Begged for reprieve, begged for more. He had to shake his head to dislodge the image, playing it off as shaking the snow from his locks. When he looked back, she was still, and her eyes were on him.

“What?”

“What are you thinking about?” She lifted the corner of her mouth into a smirk as she asked, a single eyebrow quirking up.

The image of her bare-assed across his lap screaming his name into the open air flashed through his mind.

“N-nothing.” He stuttered. Lucien stuttered. Lucien was nothing if not well spoken, and she’d caught him off guard enough that she’d made him stutter.

Elain’s grin reached from ear to ear, as though she were seeing directly into his mind and daring him to lie. “Mmhmm.”

She turned, digging in her satchel for the water she’d brought. Lucien watched her undo the lid, pull it to her lips, and take a drink. Her throat bobbed as she swallowed. He turned slightly to adjust himself in his pants outside of her carefully watching eyes before he got his own water.

He’d never felt so uncontrolled with anyone before, Elain’s every action setting him adrift. Lucien was always in control, always the flirt. He was never tongue tied or nervous, but with Elain, he wanted to do everything perfectly. After the moment in the kitchen yesterday, things had hit a tipping point. Elain had made herself clear, and he wondered if that wasn’t enough permission to move forward. He’d said he’d let her lead, but hadn't she? Twice now in as many days she’d sent him an open invitation with her eyes, her lips, her fingers, even through the bond. Perhaps it was Lucien’s turn.

He tried to meet her eyes again, but they were trained on his body as he leaned against the wide trunk of a snowy oak.

Elain shivered, though Lucien suspected this time that it was not from the cold.

“Are you cold, Elain?” He purposefully drew out her name, his tongue flicking the last syllable delicately as her eyes whipped back to his, that delicious blush spreading across her skin for him.

“I’m fine.” She was breathless, caught in the act. Lucien felt some of that control back in his hands. If he wanted this, he needed to push her. She was always free to refuse him; it would be nothing new. And as always, he would respect her wishes. But Lucien needed to know, and to know, he had to prod her a little. It was now or never.

“I’m sure you could set a fire, if we needed one.” The words were out. He watched her expression change from confusion, to understanding, to worry, to embarrassment, to defensiveness.

“What did you just say?”

Gotcha.

“I said,” he took two careful steps closer to her across the small clearing. “I’m sure that if we needed a fire, then you would be the one to call.”

Her eyes flashed at the words. “I’m certain I don’t know what you mean.”

“I know it’s you, Elain.” He’d suspected when she was late for Solstice, her heart pounding and her normally light scent peppered with hints of smoke and sulfur. She hadn’t smelled of someone else when he’d scented her in jealousy, but she had smelled like a puff of wild flame and fireworks. When everyone had panicked that night, her sense of calm, if not irritation, over the whole thing convinced him further.

She looked so indignant in front of him, like a child ready to stomp her foot. “How?”

His responding smile was wicked. “I didn’t, actually, but you just confirmed it for me.”

Her eyes narrowed and rolled.

“I felt you come in late on Solstice, then only a few hours later a new little event was discovered.” Something sparked in her eyes. Was it the attention someone had finally paid to her? Enough to track and unravel her adventurous little hobby?

After a moment of tense silence, her eyes locked on his in speculation, she threw up her hands. “I get bored, okay? Sometimes, they’ll just leave me for days. To cook, to clean, to garden. It’s like they see right through me. Sometimes I think they’d walk right through me if they could. It’s like I’m not even there.”

The smile fell from Lucien’s face then with the sadness welling so clearly beneath her frustration. Elain was pacing around the clearing in front of him as she spoke, gesturing wildly. He’d never seen her so emotional. Lucien had only meant to provoke her a bit, to have a little fun. He didn’t expect her to tell him that she felt invisible.

“You set the fires so they would notice you?”

She stopped, her hands coming up to rub furiously at her eyes.

“Yes? No. I mean, I don’t know. I don’t know!”

She groaned in frustration, and he took a step closer to her, but she was already moving again. “It’s been so long since I felt like I had even a little control over my own life. Even before I was fae, every decision was made for me. The first time it happened, it was an accident, but the thrill of it was electrifying. I felt alive for the first time since I could remember. So then, I thought I might try it again.” She turned quickly back to him, eyes pleading. “I never do it anywhere it would hurt someone. It’s just enough to feel like a little act of rebellion, a little something for me.”

“You don’t have very much just for yourself, do you?” The words seemed to break something in her. Her eyes met his, open wide and earnest, the most beautiful chestnut color set against the white of the falling snow and deep green of the woods around them. She’d finally stopped moving long enough for him to step closer to her, closing the space between them until he was barely an arm’s length away.

“You saw something you wanted, and you took it. Didn’t you, my little firestarter?” Her breath caught, then, the shiver running down her body as she nodded, her eyes never leaving his.

“I see you, Elain.” Her eyes rose back from his lips to his eyes, scrutinizing, hopeful, filled with the same need that had been consuming Lucien alive for what felt like an eternity.

Her voice was quiet and breathless as she answered. “And what do you see when you do?”

He chanced running his fingers down a lock of her hair, feeling it smooth and silky in his fingers. When he reached the end, he flicked it.

“I see someone learning to act on her feelings. Someone putting herself out there to be bold when her heart tells her to after years of being convinced to do the opposite.” He heard Elain’s breath catch in her throat as she looked at him, her eyes practically unblinking as she stared at his face. He allowed his fingers to glance up her neck, tracing across her jaw next to cup her face. His hand dwarfed her, and he liked the sight of it.

“I see someone who has, despite the odds, taken hand after hand she’s been dealt and begun to turn it into something she can call her own. I see someone kind, and smart, and brave–someone who is so funny and quick when she wants to be that it takes my breath away.” Elain looked as though she couldn’t tell whether she wanted to laugh or cry, every emotion running across her wide open face as he watched.

“What do I see when I look at you, Elain? I see everything.”

Without wasting a single additional moment, Elain’s fingers wrapped in Lucien’s shirt, her grip surprisingly strong. He met her halfway, their lips crashing together like the meeting of thunderheads. The energy crackled between them, her hands lacing into his hair and tugging while he pulled her impossibly closer to him. The kiss was messy, filled with need, as tongues and lips and teeth crashed together in the binding of them. She tasted faintly like cinnamon and the radiant light of morning.

Her arousal was in the air around them, mixing with his in a scent so intoxicating that it nearly took him to his knees. The bond was alive with the relief of years, the touch of them finally breaking that dam of willpower that he’d curated so carefully. Lucien felt wild, entirely unhinged. He wanted to claim her. He wanted her to claim him. He hoped the bond devoured them whole in these snowy woods.

Her lips smiled against his as he walked her back against the tree, her body pliant and lovely beneath his calloused hands. She nipped at his lip and it nearly took his soul straight from his body, the pull of her ripping him out of his own mind.

She pulled back, her eyes not hazy with lust but sparkling with excitement and hunger. She was incredible. She was magnificent. She took his breath from his lungs and made him uncaring as to whether or not he ever took another, so long as he died in her arms.

“You can have me, Lucien, if you can find me.” It took a moment for the words to register.

“Find you?” She was pinned against the tree, bracketed by his arms. He heard a twig snap a few feet behind them and turned to assess the danger, finding nothing, but when he turned back, she’d disappeared. He saw her duck behind a tree a few feet away, her maroon cloak trailing behind her as her voice called out.

“Yes, if you can catch me, I’m yours.” He crept closer to the tree as she flitted to another. He liked this game, and he loved the chase. “But I’m not certain you’re a good enough tracker for that.”

Lucien’s blood flared, the need to be competitive surging in his veins. He realized how silly that was; Elain was simply bopping through the trees for fun. If he wanted to catch her, he could. But he liked that she was playing with him, and her comments were only spurring him on, something primal in him awakening at it.

He could hear the echoes of her voice still as he moved soundlessly across the ground. He was nearly upon the tree she’d hidden behind, just a step away when she spoke again.

“I suppose I need a mate who can–” Her words cut off as he swung around the tree, blocking her in with his arms on each side of her as she let out a little yelp. “–catch me.” The words rushed out on an exhale as he smiled wickedly.

“If I catch you in these woods, Elain, I am fucking you against a tree.” He saw the moment her breath caught, heard her heart speed to an impossible rate, nearly passed out as the mischievous smile spread across her delicate features. She leaned in, her hands on his chest, until her mouth was right next to his ear, the whisper of her breath on his skin making him feel not wholly fae, but something animal.

The words were a whisper, a teasing breath in the cold air. “Catch me if you can.”

And then Elain winnowed from within his arms, and Lucien nearly crashed face first into the tree.

He hadn’t known Elain even could winnow.

She was extraordinary.

Elain POV

Elain was sprinting, her footsteps quiet against the lush forest floor but her exhilarated breath panting out into the frigid air. She was giddy with the excitement, nearly giggling as she ran, feeling as though she might combust. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had such fun. She felt wild, free– untamed– for once in her life.

She could hear Lucien’s heart beating over her own; he wasn’t far behind– the knowledge pushed her to run harder. Not that she’d ever run full out anywhere as a human since outgrowing childhood, but this new body let her push herself far past anything she’d done before. She felt so fast, so wild with the power of it.

Elain ducked below branches and jumped over fallen trees, a hysterical laugh bubbling out of her every so often as the wind whipped her loose hair around her face. Every so often, she thought she heard the crackling of twigs and crunching of leaves not far behind her, but she refused to lose time to look, pressing ahead with a cheek-splitting grin.

No one ever played with her like this. She didn’t even remember a time when Nesta had when they were just children. Maybe, for a time, with Feyre, but they’d both been so young she’d never have remembered it. But Lucien would. Lucien would entertain her interests no matter what they might be, she knew it. He had no expectations for her to fill, no impossible standards of what he thought a woman–female– should do or be. Lucien was perhaps the first person she’d ever encountered who fully supported Elain just being…Elain.

The thought was almost as freeing as the running itself. This was the feeling she’d been missing–this heady excitement, this wild rush of freedom. There was no mold for who Elain needed to be here, she could just exist to enjoy things. To have fun .

And Lucien made the chase fun. He had for years now, his devotion never once wavering, his interest never put off as she recovered, never faltering as she found her way to who she was after her roles in two vastly different worlds. He let her reconcile and process by herself, but he was never far behind. He had chased her gently, supportively, and now he was chasing her in earnest.

And Elain was loving it.

She wanted him to catch her– to finally, truly, and fully catch her– so that she could finish falling.

Lucien POV

He could smell her, her excitement, her fear, her joy, her arousal.

Some primal part of Lucien had taken over, was fighting for full control, and he had half a mind to let it. It was as though there were some great beast inside him, stretching and roaring to be let loose, and the temptation to let it happen was overwhelming him.

For years, Lucien had tried to be gentle, had tried to treat Elain like the fine china everyone else did. But it occurred to him somewhere along the way that Elain had lived her whole human life that way. And at some point in the last few years of being fae, she had decided that wasn't what she wanted anymore.

He wanted her. And based on the closeness of her beating heart, he was going to have her soon.

His senses were all on alert, the scent of her forging a trail through his very being, sizzling his nerves and setting him alight with an unending burst of need. He felt as though he might combust if he stopped running, stopped tracking her. His mate. His Elain. Something had shifted between them, and the bond recognized that, throbbing at the thrill of it.

Lucien stopped and took a deep breath, closing his eyes and feeling the heavy flakes of snow falling on them. He reached into his chest and let that glowing bond guide him, grinning wickedly as he sent himself winnowing to where she was.

Then Lucien was gone, stepping through time and space to his mate, slamming into her, wrapping his arms around her, and swinging her around to pin her to a tree.

Her shriek was one of joy, of surprise, and as he looked down into her wide eyes, he could see her elation.

“Cheater,” she exhaled, breathless, her chest rapidly rising and falling against his. His eyes roved hungrily over her face, seeking permission, and finding hers granting it. It was clear to him that she’d denied herself long enough.

“I think you like that I caught you.”

“You can’t prove anything,” she teased back, the smile on her face wild, the cheek in her voice nearly sending Lucien to his knees.

“Oh, I think I can.” Lucien ruched the skirts of her dress in his hands, bunching the sides slowly until he could feel the smooth expanse of her skin beneath. She inhaled against him, and he checked again to gauge her reaction. The nod was miniscule, but the wild, untethered desperation in it was indisputable. She wanted him just as much as he wanted her. The thought was such a relief to Lucien that he briefly wondered if he was dreaming.

“I can feel your yearning. Did you know that?”

She shuddered against him at the words. His fingers wandered slowly up her leg to her hip to the juncture of her thighs. He brushed a knuckle lightly along the seam of her underwear to find them soaked, Elain’s head tipping back against the tree behind her as she breathed deeply through her nose. He leaned in, his face finding the meeting of her neck and shoulder, inhaling deeply the way he’d so often wanted and allowing his eyes to roll back at the scent of her so close and unencumbered.

“You smell incredible,” he snarled softly, the words coming from the chaotic rush in his head. Into his hair, Elain whimpered, the noise shooting straight down and into Lucien’s cock. He pressed kisses up the column of her neck, pausing to nibble behind her ear and feel the delicious arch of Elain’s body into his own. He pressed his hips into her, no mistaking the arousal that was now pressing against her stomach as their mouths came back together, not joining, but brushing lightly against each other.

“Say you want me, Elain.” He barely recognized the authority in his voice, the demand, the underlying pleading. He ground against her again and another low whine pitched from her, doing nothing to ease the aching need he felt.

“I want you,” she whispered, her lips grazing against his. “Now.” And her delicate hands pulled him to her with a strength Lucien hadn’t been aware of, gripping him with a near-violent tug until his lips met hers again.

The kiss was electric, even more so than the first, her mouth opening to his the second their lips fully met, her tongue sliding across his lips. She had buried her fingers in his hair at some point, holding him to her as though he’d ever let go. She tasted sweet, the feminine flavor of her mixed with the sweetness of the confectioner’s items that she was always making as their mouths melded together. The bond was practically screaming in Lucien’s chest, demanding that he make her his. He refused to take her entirely like a barbarian.

When he pulled back, his body screamed in protest, and the whine drawn forth from Elain was almost enough to make him pick her up and never let go. But Lucien was nothing if not a gentleman and courtier first, his primary concern right now being that Elain got off screaming before he put his cock anywhere near her.

Elain gasped when he dropped to his knees, his hands never leaving her hips.

“What are you doing?”

“Tasting you,” he replied without hesitation, pushing her skirts back up again then reaching down to hoist her leg over his shoulder as he looked up to watch Elain’s furious blush spread. Her arousal sank around him like a heavy cloud, urging him on.

“We can’t do this here, Lucien.” The words were breathless, but her eyes were sharp, curious, asking .

“And why not?” He turned his head in to press a kiss into her pretty thigh, delighted to find a light dusting of freckles here too, fighting the urge to bite lightly into the skin.

Later .

“It’s not proper, I–”

He laughed against her, moving to press hot kisses higher and higher until she tilted her head back against the tree again, closing her eyes and moaning low.

“You’re hardly a proper lady anymore, Elain,” he teased her, thinking she’d feign indignancy, swat him perhaps. But when he looked up to behold her, looking thoroughly debauched where he held her against the tree, hair wild around her flushed face and eyes blown wide with lust, she smiled instead.

“Prove it,” she demanded, and Lucien was entirely lost.

He pulled her undergarments to the side roughly and tasted her, the need so strong that he couldn’t fight it another second. He didn’t want to play, didn’t want to tease. It was a miracle he could form a single cogent thought as his lips closed around her clit, swirling through the taste of her. Distantly, he heard her gasp loudly above him, the sound turning into a low dulcet moan from her perfect lips as he sucked gently. He reached behind her to take a handful of her ass, feeling her begin to shake as he squeezed and pulled her closer.

He licked over her languidly, despite the ferocity inside him telling him to devour everything she was. He swirled tight circles over her as she threaded her fingers through his hair, keeping him close to her as though anything except an act of the gods could keep him from her now. She bucked against his face, the movement causing him to throb painfully while he smiled against her. He inserted a finger into her, then another, the tightness of her making him spin out to the remaining threads of his sanity.

She was so wet for him, so tight, so perfect .

Elain was just as lost as he was, the pulsing of the bond in his chest uninhibited, shotting bursts of her arousal at him and driving him wild as she fucked herself down on his fingers. Her hands gripped his hair so hard that his scalp tingled, and he thought that she could hurt him a million times over and he’d thank her for it.

With a strangled cry, she came hard, tightening around him so abruptly that he nearly finished in his pants like some sort of untrained boy. He stilled his breathing, alternating slow, intentional licks and kisses across her as she rode out the waves of her orgasm. Her leg fell down off his shoulder, boneless with pleasure, and Lucien withdrew his fingers from her, popping them into his mouth and licking every trace of her down.

She watched him, chest heaving and entirely undone, like he’d just uncovered some sort of treasure. Lucien certainly felt like he had as he rose to stand.

He kissed her roughly on the mouth, letting her taste herself on his lips. He startled when Elain snarled, the noise the last thing he’d ever expected from her lips as she pulled his body back to hers.

“ Mine,” she growled roughly against him, and with that single word, Lucien lost hold of the last tether.

Elain POV

Lucien’s eyes lit up as though illuminated by flame from within, the burning need so clear in his face that Elain felt it in her own chest. She felt powerful, wanted, cherished– every bit of him pressed against every bit of her. She could feel how hard he was, his need for her so apparent, and she’d never been so turned on in her life.

The bond in her chest was practically vibrating with their closeness, that unfulfilled need of years finally getting what it desired.

She was finally getting what she desired.

Lucien’s mouth on her skin felt like the most delicious sin. He was hers. Wholly hers. Because he wanted to be, because she was his, too.

The orgasm she’d just experienced was like nothing she’d ever felt in her life, entirely indescribable and overwhelming and unbelievable. She hadn’t come once with Graysen, the sex as disappointing as he had been in the end. And nothing at her own hands had ever held a candle to the ministrations of Lucien’s tongue.

He ran his other hand up her leg, the dress lifting again on both sides, and grabbed her thighs, hoisting her against the broad oak tree in one sweeping movement while he groaned against her lips. She wanted to inhale the sound, bring it into her body and keep it there forever like a secret for just the two of them. His thumbs caressed the crease of her hips, the curves of her warm flesh filling his hands perfectly as he pressed against her.

She reached down, long past the point of propriety or good sense, and began to fumble with his trousers.

“Are you a virgin?” He breathed the question into her. She wasn’t offended by it coming from Lucien– she knew he asked only to know the level of care he needed to take with her. Still, she nearly scoffed.

Maybe, if you didn’t count the few disappointing trysts with Graysen from years ago, she supposed. “No, I’m not a virgin.”

Lucien growled against her, slamming her body back into the tree with renewed vigor that sent a shot of heat straight to her cunt. Their eyes met– his were filled with possession like she’d never seen, and it was doing something wild to her. He wanted her for himself, that much was clear, and she loved it. She craved more, so she said the words to egg him on.

“Make it so I only remember you, then.” Elain felt bold as she leaned forward to kiss him again, frantic energy pouring off between them.

Why had she waited so long?

His fingers strummed between her legs, a thumb rubbing over her, and she bucked against him on instinct. He grabbed the band of her underwear and pulled them aside, and his fingers slid through her easily as water. She unlaced his pants as quickly as she could and reached below the waist of them, feeling him beneath her as she brushed against his cock for the first time.

She froze.

She hadn’t lied about not being a virgin– she and Graysen had been intimate a number of times. But none of her experiences had prepared her for what lay in her hand. Infuriatingly, Lucien was brimming with male pride at her reaction. She refused to be the blushing maiden, no matter how intimidated she was.

She gripped him tightly and felt her own rush of smug satisfaction as he inhaled sharply at the action. He pinned her to the tree with his hips, removing his hand from her ass to tug his pants down further and giving Elain a full view of what she was working with.

She didn’t think she’d ever been so aroused, the need so heavy and aching within her

The way her sisters spoke of sex had always confused her, the lacking feeling from her own experience leaving her jealous and frustrated.

But this? This she could see.

He stroked his fingers through her again. “Cauldron, Elain, you’re so wet for me.” The words were spoken on a desperate sigh as he thrust a finger into her again, working her open and readying her. She felt playful, she felt light, she felt wholly undone.

“And how do you know that’s all for you?” She was surprised at herself, the words coming from her crass and filthy. In her wildest dreams, she’d never imagined it, but the way he reacted to her sass, her bratty retorts, was making him double down his already wholly consuming efforts. She was thrilled by the way he reacted, adding a second finger to the mix and making her see stars as he curled them against some place inside her she’d never found on her own, despite all her exploration.

She cried out when he pulled his fingers back. She nearly yelped when he ripped her underwear entirely from her body, stuffing them into the pocket of his coat and grinning wolfishly back as he smeared her arousal down the length of him and placed himself within the cradle of her hips. Elain sighed and felt as though she was breaking brilliantly into a million small pieces as he pressed to her, his length gliding easily against her. He leaned forward again, kissing and nipping at her breasts.

“Lucien, please. ”

He acquiesced, beyond teasing, beyond amusement, the bond riding him just as hard as it was her. He notched himself at her entrance, his crown pressed against her and leaving no space between them.

“Relax Elain, I’ve got you.” And she believed him. She’d never trusted anyone to take care of her the way she trusted Lucien, and she let her body relax into the feel of him. Here, now, she only felt him. The warmth of his chest beneath her hands, the trembling of his own hands on her hips. She was undoing him at the same time that he was undoing her, and after this, they would be rebuilt wholly different. Together.

He pushed forward, her body accepting inch after inch as they kissed gently, intimately. After what seemed like lifetimes, Lucien was fully seated inside her. He shivered in her arms, the restraint he was using to hold back overwhelming her through the bond. She felt it in her chest, felt it in her mind. Every bit of it was her own as much as it was his. It wasn’t painful past a small sensation of stinging as she stretched around him, but she’d never felt so full. Together, they felt complete, and when he began to move within her, it punched the breath from her lungs entirely.

They moved together, her hips tilting to meet his every thrust, tentatively then with more confidence as they found their rhythm. He snaked a hand between them again, his thumb finding that sensitive area that made her groan with pleasure, her hands winding around his neck to hold the hair at the nape of his neck.

“Lucien…”

“Tell me you like it.”

Oh, gods, she did.

“Please, Lucien,” she moaned. She felt the orgasm climbing, incinerating the nerves down her spine as it grew and grew. It was a wave washing over a shore, and it was going to demolish her entirely, dragging whatever was left of her out into an open sea.

“Say it,” he ground out, his thumb moving more quickly over her and making her see stars as his rhythm stuttered.

“I like it, oh gods, Lucien please!” She cried out into the open air, no one but them around for miles to hear them. Then he kissed her, pouring every single bit of himself into a searing union that took her soul straight from her body. Elain was never going to be the same again, she knew. A final bite at her lower lip, and she exploded into a million fragments, the person she was before gone and replaced with something shining and blurry and entirely new.

Lucien's thrusts lost rhythm entirely, his hips stuttering as he spilled into her with a great roar that seemed to shake the trees around him, as though the forest itself bowed around what they'd just done.

As they wound down together, Lucien's forehead rested up on Elain’s chest while they panted, she tried to find the words that rattled around in her mind. They stayed just out of reach, unable to be caught and formed into sentences. What she wanted to say was that she didn't know sex could be so wonderful, fulfilling. She wanted to tell him she thought she'd found the missing piece of herself inside of him just now. She wanted to tell him, at least partly, that she was sorry about how long this has taken her, but she knew she'd needed to do it to get them here.

She wanted to say all these things, but instead, she told him softly “I meant what I said before. You’re mine.” He pulled his face back to look at her, carefully, cautiously, recently. “And I am yours, Lucien. If you’ll still have me.”

The kiss he pressed against her was so tender that, with the rush of everything else that had happened, it nearly brought her to tears.

He had waited. Kindly, patiently, he had waited for her.

He was hers, and she was his.

“As long as you’ll have me, Elain.”

She wanted to tell him that she hoped it was forever.

+++

Elain and Lucien returned to the estate as night was falling, the sun setting early now this near to the end of the year. They’d winnowed the last bit, holding their felled tree between them, hair mussed and giggling, giddy on the rush of each other.

When they landed on the front steps, the door burst open from inside, letting a rush of warm air out to greet them. The firelight inside illuminated the silhouettes of Vassa and Jurian standing within the doorway.

“Where have you been? We were so worried when we got home and you still weren’t back.” The two looked up from the steps outside, looked at each other, and then busted out laughing.

“Covered head to toe in sap and smelling like sex,” Jurian commented, clapping Lucien on the shoulder, then turning to walk back inside.

Vassa sighed, rolling her eyes and also turning back towards the warm indoors. “Must you always be so crass, Jurian?”

Elain and Lucien tugged the tree into the main room, pushing it up into the small metal stand Jurian had set out in front of the windows that morning. It was a truly beautiful tree, thick and smelling like the fresh forest they’d just departed. She decided she liked the smell substantially more now than she had this morning. Lucien leaned down to tighten the screws into place, Elain holding it steady above him. She had a passing thought that she liked how they interacted together, their impulses functioning as a team even without conscious thought.

Jurian and Vassa returned from the kitchen, and Jurian handed Elain a large glass bottle of liquor.

“What do you want me to do with this?”

He gestured to her ruined clothes and sticky skin. “It’s alcohol. It’s just about the only way to get it off your skin. Though your clothes are likely ruined.”

Elain felt the blush rise in her cheeks. Her skirts beneath the dress were already ruined from scraping endlessly against the bark of one very specific tree earlier, the ribbons in the corset only held together with the most hodgepodge assortment of ties currently. She wasn’t about to tell Jurian that, though.

Vassa stood. “Oh, Elain, I have plenty of extra clothes for you. I’ll set some on your bed while you bathe.” She turned to walk upstairs, and Elain followed, splitting off at the top hall to go to her own room. It was already warm, her fire somehow burning brightly even ahead of her. She was certain that was Lucien’s doing, somehow. She couldn’t help but smile as she set the liquor on the side of the tub and turned the faucet on. The warm water rushed in, filling the room with lovely steam as Elain turned the bottle into a cloth and rubbed gently at her skin, the sticky sap easing away with each pass.

The bath had filled by the time she was clear of sap, and she screwed the lid back on the bottle and went to place it on the counter. She caught sight of herself in the mirror. Through the foggy glass, she could see the slightest dark imprints on her hips. Four in a line on each of her outer hips, and then one larger on the inside of her hip bones. She brushed her fingers over them and smiled.

By the time Elain had soaked in the tub, all traces of the forest and otherwise gone from her skin, changed into Vassa’s soft pajama set, and come back downstairs, the rest of the house members were well on their way to drunk. The first noises Elain heard when she opened her door sounded like a pair of dying animals, wolves perhaps, who might have been stabbed judging by the howling. As she approached the stairs, she could hear the musical notes giving a valiant effort beneath what she now recognized as the horrid voices of Jurian and Lucien singing. She suppressed a laugh as she reached the first floor, noting Vassa slumped on the couch clapping in time with the caterwauling.

Vassa saw her and twisted to reach for a full cup of something on the table behind her. “Elain! Here!” She shoved the glass at her, the white, thick liquid inside nearly sloshing over the edge as Elain took it from her hand.

“What is it?”

“Oh! It’s egg nog!” Elain vaguely remembered her parents drinking something like this, but had never tried it herself. The first sip was creamy and sweet, a sharp tang of something alcoholic on the back end. No wonder they were all singing.

Elain tried to whisper, but it was difficult to hear over the two males nearby, arms around each other’s shoulders, screaming what appeared to be a seasonal song. “What’s happening here?”

Vassa giggled. “Lucien has a symphonia. Last year we used it for Christmas music, and they’re reliving their heyday now.”

Elain’s eyes roved over to where Lucien stood swaying to the music with Jurian, eyes closed and glass raised, singing a soft song with the adjoining voices of a man and a woman that Lucien was singing quite high to mimic.

And may the spirit of Christmas be always in our heartsssss.

Not even hours ago, this male had been holding her wide open against a tree.

“Come, let’s decorate,” Vassa said excitedly while she grabbed her hand and tugged.

Elain noticed then that there was a small pile of boxes near the base of their tree, and Vassa popped open the top of one to show a shiny trove of ornaments and sparkling tinsel. Vassa immediately dug in, her hands grabbing a few of the delicate, ornate, glass balls at once and finding them homes amongst the boughs of the tree. Elain couldn’t remember ever having done this, sure that her mother and father had the staff do it in her childhood. She took another great gulp of her drink, set it down, and knelt to gently pull out a bulb of burnished gold. She giggled when she realized it reminded her of Lucien’s eye.

The more they drank, the more haphazard the decorating became. Once the tree was badly decorated, nearly lopsided, and covered in tangled strands of tinsel, Elain and Vassa fell back on the rug in front of the fire. Behind them somewhere, Lucien was trying his hardest to teach Jurian some sort of jig, but kept tripping, laughing until they were on the verge of tears while he took them both to the ground only to repeat the cycle again.

Elain turned her blurry focus to the stonework around the fireplace. Lucien had mentioned he’d helped them build this manor. Had his hands worked these stones? She’d felt those calloused fingers inside of her now, the roughed fingers of a man who knew how to work with his hands. Something about it was so unapologetically arousing for her that she shivered at the feeling. He was a courtier, practiced and elegant. But he was also so unabashedly male , strong and crafty. Elain liked the idea that he could do it all. Would he build their house, too?

The thought had slipped into her drunken mind so fast that she almost choked herself when she realized it. Was she truly thinking about houses with him so suddenly?

She supposed it wasn’t really sudden, not truly. But she still needed to get her thoughts in check before she threw herself over the deep end and into his arms forever.

It was hard to do when she looked over to see him smiling and laughing, his head tossed back in joy while he practiced high kicks with his best friend. She had seen more of Lucien in the last few days than she had in the last few years. She thought it would be very, very easy to fall in love with him. If she admitted it to herself, she was well on her way. Today had been an opening of a floodgate that had, if she was honest, been welling and building for years. These emotions were not strange or new, not unfamiliar, but rather old friends she’d finally allowed into her life. She knew these feelings she had for Lucien were nothing new, she was simply embracing them now.

Jurian’s sudden movement over their heads and Vassa’s subsequent shriek as he tossed her over his shoulder launched Elain from her thoughts. Vassa grabbed at the bottle of rum on the side table, taking it with them and trying not to slosh it as Jurian ran. He already had Vassa halfway up the stairs, swatting her ass for good measure.

“Goodnight you miscreants. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do!” The sound of Vassa’s gasping laughter echoed as they ran down the upper hall towards their room.

“Would you like any more?” She looked up to see Lucien holding out what remained of the pitcher of nog.

“Oh, gods no. If I drink any more, someone will have to carry me to bed, too.” As it was, the world was already spinning a bit, and Elain pressed the heels of her hands into her eyes. She was still on the floor in front of the fire, her toes warm and her heart satisfied.

“I would be hard pressed to not volunteer for the job.” She tried not to giggle and failed, then felt a rush of air as one pillow then another hit the floor next to her. “Lift,” he ordered softly, and she tilted her head up just enough for him to slide the cushion under her.

“Mmm, that’s nice.” Elain let her eyes close and hummed. When was the last time she’d been so at peace? When was the last time she’d had so much fun?

He laid the other one next to hers, settling in beside her and tossing a thick, plush blanket over them both. His hand found hers beneath it, twining their fingers together and giving her a squeeze.

“You’re always so lovely and warm.” The words were out before she could stop herself, and she followed them with another giggle. Perhaps she was drunker than she’d thought. When she turned her head to look at him, she found him already staring back, the firelight twinkling in his eye.

“I’ll warm you up any time, Elain.” She thought of the forest earlier, their romps in the trees, and her stomach clenched with want. But for now, this closeness, this gentle touching, was enough. His thumb stroked across her wrist and her heart fluttered.

“Will you kiss me, Lucien?”

“Every day for as long as I live, if you ask me to.” She wanted to smile, but his lips were already against hers, brushing softly then more insistently. As if by instinct, she opened for him, their tongues exploring each other. There was none of the desperate, fast pace of earlier, just languid strokes and curious touches as she shifted towards him. Her fingers grazed along his jaw lightly, and he sighed into her mouth. It was slow and intentional and perfect.

As a child, Elain had always begged the nursemaids to read them bedtime stories about true love. She coveted the tales of the knight who would do anything for the one he loved, and she lived for the ones where that first kiss took their breath away, made them see sparks. Her sisters wanted thrills and adventure, but all Elain had ever wanted to hear about were the stories of the ones who found each other against all odds.

Now that she’d found Lucien, truly found him, she never wanted to let him go again.

#acotar gift exchange #gift exchange 2024 #for my new friend #elucien fic #elucien #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #pro elucien #holiday vibes #oops all smut and fluff #what are you doing new year's eve?

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btsinwonderland · 13 days ago

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A Drop of Poison - Ch. 28: End

A Loki fanfiction!

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Chapter warnings: filthy dirty S M U T - you've been warned :D

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Snow catches on the windowsill as you sit by the fire of the Hufflepuff common room with your nose in a textbook. The frigid cold of December settles in your bones in a tired sort of way. Since that day you had cried in Frigga’s arms, you have spent your days dutifully attending classes, trying to return to some kind of normal. As the days stretched into weeks, winter holidays creeped up and snow blanketed everything.

It feels as though the start to your semester was just a hellish fever dream; from falling into a whirlwind of a relationship with your potions professor, to watching him die multiple times, to nearly dying in an all out battlefield against the forces of evil. Not to mention being possessed by said evil and murdering your friend, Pom. That last one sits the heaviest on your shoulders, a burden you will carry on for the rest of your life. You try your best to tell yourself that it was not your fault, but your doubts disagree.

Closing the book at the rumble in your stomach, you wander over to the Great Hall for dinner. The halls thin as students return home for Christmas break. Mo is planning to meet Nila’s family on a tropical vacation, while Valkyrie is attending a prestigious quidditch training camp halfway around the world. You are happy for them, because they seem to be able to move on with their lives in a way that you wish you could.

You meet Mo and Valkyrie in the Great Hall, where the ceiling is decorated with floating red candles and poinsettias. The walls are festooned with wreaths and sparkling ribbons and at every corner of the hall, there stands a tall snowman with a long beard and a serrated carrot nose. An arrangement of meats and cheese tantalize your senses, along with sticky toffee pudding, treacle tarts, mince pie and Victoria sponge. Your stomach gurgles at the scent of sugary sweets.

“You sure you don’t want to come with me, Freya? You can cheer me on for two whole weeks!” Valkyrie says, stealing your treacle tart.

You chuckle. “Riiight, like I want to be around you jocks! No thanks. I’ll be catching up on reading and ace my N.E.W.T.S.”

Mo sighed. “God, I hope I don’t screw up with Nila’s parents. They’re muggles. I don’t know a thing about muggles, you guys.”

Taking a bite from a piece of lemon pepper havarti, you turn to Mo. “Muggles are nothing to worry about. They’re pretty much like you, sans the magic. And as for Nila’s parents, they’ll adore you, Mo, just be yourself.”

This appeases him for the time being as he spoons pudding onto his plate. “Are you going to be okay here? By yourself I mean…”

Valkyrie and Mo both give you a look they’ve been giving you since November. It’s the “will she slit her wrists in the bath” look and you find it slightly irritating but understand that they mean well. They are your best friends, but you are not able to share all your sorrows with them, especially now that they are trying to move on. A fragment of your soul was lost during your ordeal with Hela, and you had no idea how to get it back, let alone force your friends to join your little parade of distress.

Putting on a convincing grin, you say, “I’ll be fine! You two enjoy your holidays and don’t give me a second thought. I’ll be too busy to even miss you twats.”

This makes them laugh and so you keep things light. They cannot see the storm brewing inside your chest. Every day since the battle, your nightmares of Fenris continue. You wake up thinking that you’ve been sleepwalking and might have hurt someone. You’re too afraid to bring it up with anyone, even Heimdall or Frigga. So you simply cry yourself to sleep and sometimes tie your wrist to your bedpost to make sure you don’t go anywhere.

You bid them goodbye and wish them a happy Christmas and in the next few days the halls are deserted. It seems that the battle encouraged all the students to spend more time with their families. This thought makes you glad, but just a little lonely. Your footsteps echo through the staircases and halls and you reach a point on Christmas Eve where the entire day passes and you see no one; not even a single professor. Not even a ghost.

The heavy feeling in your chest remains as you go for a walk minutes to midnight, not wanting to sleep. Your eyes are dry from staying awake too long, but you fear what occurs in your dreams too much to allow yourself the pleasure of slumber. Sconces glow with dim firelight as you wander the halls more like a spectre than a person. You find yourself in the potions tower and your chest tightens. Of course you end up here.

A rattling sound echoes down the stairs and alerts you. Silent as a mouse, you climb the stairs to the potions classroom, dreading a dementor. To your relief, there is no depressing chill in the air beyond the crispness of winter. Opening the door to the potions room, your heart sinks when you find it empty. Still, you hope.

“I know you’re here,” you say aloud. Your voice echoes in the empty room. “Why won’t you face me?”

The room temperature shifts and you know he’s there. You turn around, and there he is, leaning on the teacher’s desk with crossed arms. He wears a long black trench coat with form fitting slacks and a black turtleneck. His hair has gotten longer since the battle and he dons a goatee and moustache. He looks older now, especially with the long scar that runs from his temple through his left eye and down his neck. The blinded eye is a cloudy white, while the healthy blue one pierces through you, wearing a thousand emotions.

“Miss Eves,” he says with a distant voice that makes your insides sink.

You want to take a step towards him, but your body is paralyzed under the weight of his gaze. His change in looks, no less attractive of course, makes you think you are looking at a stranger. “How are you?” you mumble, mentally kicking yourself for sounding so stupid.

“Lucky to be alive, thanks to you,” he says. There is not a waver in his tone. You wonder if he has realized that your school time dalliance was just that, a simple passionate fling that is better in memory than picking up again.

Bravely, you step towards him, though you feel an aura of resistance. “I told you before, didn't I? Couldn’t just let you die.”

A thin smile forms on his lips and you briefly see the man you love underneath all the unfamiliarity. “Even if I am a complete wretch?”

”You’re a wretch for leaving without a word, sure,” you say, finding your footing and giving him a glare. ”How could you just leave?” You try to let your words come out strong, but at the end your voice breaks and you start to cry. Fuck.

You cover your face, hopelessly embarrassed, but at your wits’ end. Too many nightmares rattled around in your brain to play word games with Loki. He approaches you and grabs your wrists, pulling them away from your face.

“Freya,” he says with a tender voice. “I needed to tie up some loose ends before I could face you. You’ve done so much for me, sacrificed so much. In return, I have only brought grief into your life. I cannot bring you any more danger. I need to be a better man.”

You lift your head to look up at him, the scar from Hela’s magic healed so jaggedly. With a light caress, you run your fingers down the scar and cup his chin. “You think grief is the only thing you’ve brought me? What about the nights in your office or your chambers? Our secret picnics on the roof? Was it all Loki’s grief?”

His brows knit together as he gazes at you, a gleam of desire in his eye. “My time with you consists of the happiest moments of my life.”

You pull your hands out of his grip. “Then why are you toying with me? You know what I want, so you must decide.” Your sadness spills into anger like water pouring from a spout. “I am not afraid of you or your past. The question is, how long will you let it define you?”

His fingers dance in the absence of your skin and he actually chuckles. “Your wisdom cuts me, Freya, but it is one of the things I love about you.”

”You’re a bastard, you know that?” You say, crossing your arms and moving away from him. “Perhaps I should be done with you.”

”Who’s toying with whom now?” He says, grabbing you by the arm.

You back away from him, only to feel the cool stone of a pillar behind you. He leans on one arm against the pillar, pinning you there and smiles. There is something more maniacal about him with the blind eye and scar, but your body reacts rather aggressively by heating up at the sight of him. “Who knew that Loki Laufeyson would become so pitiful?” A smirk plays on your lips and he smiles wider. More, his eyes say.

“How far you’ve fallen, professor,” you say, biting your lip. Your sanity left you a long time ago. Now you only wanted one thing. Him.

With his other hand, he grips your hip tightly. “How dare you speak to me that way?”

Butterflies explode in your gut, and you rub your thighs together. “Hmph, it’s not like you’re my professor anymore. You’re just a trespasser.”

He leans closer, and you feel the bulge in his pants.

“You’re just a pathetic man, looking for excuses to be unhappy,” you say. Seeing the flare of anger in his eyes, you wonder if you’ve gone too far.

His mouth crashes onto yours, and his tongue parts your lips, invading your space so quickly you can barely breathe. You allow him to engulf you and feel the heat between your legs transform into an urgent need.

“Seems,” he says between kisses, “I need to…teach you…some manners…You’ve become…quite a brat…without me around.”

You moan into his mouth as he lifts you by the thighs, pinning you to the pillar. Your hands wrap around his neck and you run your fingers through his hair, as he ravishes your mouth with his tongue. He grinds his hardness against your core and you become undone. You didn’t realize how sensitive you became in the last month, and every touch set fire to your senses. Loki had a way of swallowing you whole with his presence.

Suddenly Loki withdraws, but you are still hovering against the pillar, and you gasp when you feel Loki’s green magic support your body. He smiles wickedly and gestures at your chest; a green tendril of magic undoes your top, one button at a time. The green appendage is cool against your skin, in a comforting way, though it makes your mind race with unspeakably dark possibilities.

He takes off his trench coat and rolls up the sleeves of his sweater to his elbows. Seeing him in the classroom like this, looking more intimidating than ever before, sends a shiver down your spine. He slips away your underwear with ease, and removes your top and bra, leaving you only in your plaid skirt and high socks. The cold air of the room makes your nipples perk up and he stares at you with hunger.

You wanted to make him mad with desire. “I missed you, daddy,” you say, blushing as you open up your legs in a lewd display.

Loki nearly chokes as he drops to his knees, parts your thighs and licks up your slit. “I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you,” he whispers, giving you an earnest look.

You moan as he licks your folds, and his fingers rub against your wetness. Dipping a long finger inside, he stretches you, but you already want more. He pumps a single finger in and out as he sucks on your clit and waves his free hand. A tendril of green magic rubs against your nipple and you suck in a breath. “What a-are you doing?” Your breath turns into panting when another green tendril wraps itself around your other nipple. An orgasm was arriving hard and fast.

”The best magic comes from the heart, and right now, I want to make you feel good, my love,” he says, as he adds a second finger inside you. He pumps his fingers and you whimper at the feeling. “Ahh, Loki, I-I’m gonna!”

He sucks on your clit, shoving his fingers in as deep as they can go and you come hard and fast with a loud moan. Before you come down, he unbuckles his pants and slides himself inside you. It hurts at first, but you let him inside, one inch at a time, until he is all the way in. You can almost feel the pulse of his blood inside you.

“I won’t be able to hold back much longer,” he says, his blue eye gazing into you with pure need.

You move against his hardness and you both moan at the same time. “Don’t hold back, I’ve been waiting long enough,” you say.

He wraps his arm around your waist and thrusts into you so hard you see stars. He drives in and out of you, and you arch your back against the cool stone. His mouth finds yours and you kiss him passionately, not realizing that tears ran down your cheeks. Every night since the battle, you had missed him so terribly, thinking that he would be gone from your life. If he left now, you would be completely broken.

Loki appears to read your face in this moment and he slows his thrusts, going deep, but with a mindful pace. “I will never leave you, Freya, I love you,” he whispers in your ear with each thrust.

Something inside you unravels, and you want to lose yourself in the man you love. You wrap your arms around him, holding him tightly, wanting him deeper. You needed more.

”Take me, Loki, I’m forever yours,” you say with a whimper.

He slams himself into you, over and over, and a cool green tendril sneaks between your bodies to rub your clit. As Loki pounds you into the pillar, his tongue rams down your throat. Your walls squeeze his cock as you approach your release.

“I’m going to paint your insides white,” he says, and with a final brutal thrust, he comes inside of you and you scream with a shattering orgasm.

He holds you there for a while, still inside you, as you both return to your bodies from the spiritual experience of being joined so breathtakingly. Both of you silently converse with kisses, caresses, and whispers of sweet words. You don’t know how much time passes, but he takes you to the potions bedchamber and cleans you up.

In the shower, he takes you again, pinning you against the tile with your back to him. Your face presses against the wall and all you want is to be fucked into oblivion.

“God, I’ve missed this pussy,” he says, fisting your hair and thrusting into you with abandon. “I’m going to fuck you until it’s New Year’s Day. Do you understand me?”

You mumble some kind of “yes daddy” and chase your pleasure as he pounds into you and you feel his come squirt inside you.

When you return to the bedroom, your body is sore, but you still want more of him. A need has erupted inside you that cannot be sated and you climb onto his bed, completely naked, and sit on your knees waiting for him to return from the restroom.

When he returns, he sees you there and his blue eye glazes over with lust. “Still want more, do you?”

You get on your hands and knees and crawl to him, and your head is at the same level as his cock. It hardens as you watch it, licking your lips. “I want you to obliterate me, daddy.”

With a lick to the tip, you swallow his cock until it hits the back of your throat and his balls rub against your chin.

“Fuck!” He exclaims as you bob your head, trying not to choke.

He gathers your hair in his hands and gently starts to thrust. “Is this okay?” He asks.

Your throat is so stuffed you can barely breathe, but you want him to fuck every single hole you have. When he sees you nod, he begins to fuck your throat raw. With each thrust, he gets a bit rougher, until he’s pounding your mouth, balls slapping against your chin, and you are nearly choking and holding back tears.

A manic smile appears on his lips. “Good girls get rewarded,” he says with a grunt and continues thrusting into your mouth. You feel a cool tendril against your thigh and moan in surprise when it brushes against your slit.

The tendril probes your folds and sinks inside you as Loki thrusts into your mouth, and you gasp, nearly gagging. “Are you my good girl?” He says, as the tendril begins thrusting into your pussy. You look up at his lean body, covered in a sheen of sweat, and nearly come from the sight of him claiming your mouth.

You moan a garbled “yes, daddy” and allow yourself to be violated, feeling a strong orgasm on the way.

“Then don’t come. You’re not allowed until I say so, understand?” He says, stopping and tilting your chin up.

You whine but he glares at you with both his white blind eye and his blue one. When you nod in understanding, he resumes thrusting and you want to come so badly. Heat builds up in your lower abdomen, wanting to come, but with a tearful moan you don’t allow yourself to release. With a loud groan, Loki erupts inside your throat and you drink every last drop of his come. With a pop, he slides out of your mouth and waves his hands in the air.

In one quick sweep, his magic shifts you around so you are bent over the bed with Loki behind you. “You’re still my good girl, aren’t you?” He says, landing one sharp slap on your ass.

You moan, “yes!”

He squeezes your ass for several seconds and massages it. Then he runs a finger over the crack, over your third hole. “Do you want me to claim every part of you?”

You bite your lip, drunk on sex. “Yes, fuck me please daddy!”

Another hard slap lands on your other cheek and you whimper. “Beg for what you want.”

His rough demeanour does nothing to help you try to hold back your release. All you want is to have him inside you, all over you, everywhere. “Please…fuck my ass, daddy. I need you to take every single hole.”

Loki leans over you and whispers in your ear, giving your ass a squeeze. “Anything for my little cumslut.”

Suddenly, he rubs a warm liquid against your rear pucker, and he inserts a finger inside. You aren’t sure what qualities this magical elixir possesses, but nothing hurts as he gently stretches you, and his fingers make your head dizzy with pleasure.

Green tendrils of magic emerge from Loki’s body as he explores your ass, and they clamp onto your breasts, squeezing and teasing your nipples. Another presses against your pussy, slowly entering it once again, while another large tendril rubs against your mouth.

“I’m going to fill you up,” he says, positioning himself behind you. “Make you completely mine.”

You moan when the tendrils start moving. “More…” The green tendril in front of your face rubs your lips before pressing against them, and slides itself into your mouth.

He thrusts into your ass, and you scream at the fullness. Your screams are muffled by the tendril stuffing your mouth. Your senses are in overload as Loki thrusts into you and his magical tendrils assault your other holes. A large tendril wraps around your torso and lifts you up off the bed. This new angle puts every feeling into overdrive.

“Your pretty little ass is so tight,” he moans. “I’m going to ruin this hole over and over.”

Any thoughts you may have had are fucked out of of you, completely, as Loki hammers into you over and over. Your eyes roll back in your head as you scream, trying not to come, but it's so hard.

“Do you want to come?” he asks, panting in between words.

Tears prick your eyes. “Mhmm!” The green tendril in your mouth shoves itself down your throat, choking you.

Loki continues to ram into your ass, and fists your hair. “A few more seconds, darling. Hold on for me for a few more seconds.”

You whine, whimper and moan, but he is relentless as he fucks you. You are encased in his presence, in his magic, as he claims every single part of you. This man has already claimed your entire heart, but you knew Loki wanted everything, it was just a part of his personality. And you wanted to bare your soul, your body and your heart to him. So you held on, even though the pleasure was ripping you apart.

When you thought you would slip, he grabs your breasts with his hand and his thrusts become violent. “Come for me, now.”

An earth shattering orgasm crashes through your body and soul, and you feel your mind splinter. Loki and his tendrils fuck you through your orgasm and your aftershocks and he comes with a loud groan, as you milk his cock one more time. “That was…amazing,” he says, collapsing on top of you as the tendrils disappear. The weight of his body feels good atop you.

You sigh underneath him, and he gently turns you on your back. “Are you alright, my love?”

You are so fucked out of your mind you cannot form coherent words anymore, but simply nod with a smile on your face.

“I love you, Freya,” he whispers, kissing you on the forehead as he wraps his arms around you. “You’re mine now, forever.”

A smile spreads on your face as you drift off to sleep, and by some miracle, have no nightmares at all. In the void of sleep, all you feel is Loki’s warm embrace that carries you through the darkness.

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

There it is, this suuuuuper long fanfic is done and I had so much fun writing it! Hope you guys enjoyed it :) Much love to you, and take care <3 Sending you lots of love and sticky pudding ;)

#loki #loki x reader #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki x you #loki laufeyson #hogwarts au #daddy's good girl #tentacles #mcu loki #marvel loki #loki smut #hardcore smut #loki loves you #dom loki #professor loki

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ofpineapplesanddawns · 29 days ago

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Here's part three of the older Lucian au!

Warning: again, the author is fucking around with underworld canon, Peter doesn't have medical training so he's bullshitting trying to help Lucian out

On with the fic!

Peter found himself in a bit of an awkward situation.

For one, he was in the presence of a werewolf (correction, lycan). And two, said creature was currently in human form, and was very, clearly naked as the day he was born.

Also, he appeared to be unconscious, and looked unwell.

So, Peter had a few options here to deal with. On one hand, he could just fucking leave, get his skinny ass back down the road in his rented car he left behind yesterday evening, and never come back here again. Boom! He did what the lycan kept telling him to do, easy peasy!

But on the other hand, Peter felt this stupid sense of guilt in him, he had hurt the guy after all, with a silver blade. And aren't werewolves and such, like, deathly allergic to silver? So, shouldn't he help out? At least try to make things a bit easier for the wolfy guy?

And on a third hand, when was Peter going to get another chance to study a living werewolf creature? It's not like he's had the ability before! He's met vampires, and some other, lesser spooks, but nothing like this guy!

So maybe... he could take a chance to study him?

Right, that settles it, Peter decided the first hand was out, the second and third were in. With a silent nod, Peter moved towards the bed, unfurling the cloak he had grabbed from the stairs. He shook it out, then tossed it on the sleeping, naked man. More for his own sake then the strangers, Peter felt like his research would keep being interrupted if he kept staring at that nice ass.

"Alright, wolfy, let's see what I can do for ya." Peter said aloud, dumping the contents of his backpack onto the bed.

He had his phone, three battery packs, several snack bars and cans of energy drinks, along with a half-full water bottle. He even had a few cans left of sorta-warm iced coffee, and an extra pair of socks and some gloves.

Not what he needed, except for the coffee, he would need that. He shook the bag again, and out dropped some gum, an old condom wrapper, and some crumbs. Where was his medpack?

"Uhg, right." He touched his cheek where he had placed a few plasters, an attempt at cleaning up the scratches from his fall last night. He had left the medical bag downstairs, which meant a trip down stone steps.

He glanced at the lycan, who seemed to be breathing kinda funny. Peter winced, then hurried out of the room, down the stairs, and found the pack where he had left it. He brought it back to the room and looked inside.

He had the basics for a medical pack, along with a needle and thread, gloves, some cloth rags, and some other things he figured he'd need when urban exploring or entering places he was sure were illegal for him to go into.

He took one of the cloth rags, looking at it. He wondered if he could use it like people did it movies and stuff, where you used a warm, damp cloth to help with a fever. He reached out, touching the man's forehead, and made a face.

"Fuck dude, you're boiling!" Was that normal? Did werewolves get impossibly high fevers?

Peter muttered to the sleeping stranger that he'd be back, leaving with the rag. He then spent twenty minutes exploring, trying to find things to help with his plan.

He had found an old bowl that was still intact in a kitchen area, or at least he assumed it had once been a kitchen. He found water for it from several rain barrels that he had a feeling the guy had set up to catch drinking water.

Once Peter had the bowl filled with water, he went back up to the room, nearly screaming when he found the Moon Beast on the bed instead of the naked man. He breathed through his teeth with a loud hiss, watching the beast sleep.

Carefully, Peter moved to the other side of the room, towards the fireplace. There was no fire burning in it, but it was clearly set for one. Glancing about, Peter found no sign of matches, but luckily he had his lighter on him. He didn't smoke as much nowadays, but he still liked to have it on hand, you never knew when you needed it.

He flicked it and placed the flame to the already-made kindling, and watched as it started to burn. "Heh, nice." He smirked, sitting down as the fire started to build.

He held out his hands to the flames, enjoying the heat, fuck, he really should have dressed better. Damn his ego and need to look hot no matter what.

There was a groan from the bed, some shifting, and he turned to see the lycan curl up. It was weird to watch, considering how bulky the guy was in this form.

"Right." He huffed, moving to grab for the rag again, and to place the water by the fire, before stopping. He groaned, slapping his forehead, before going back to the pack. There, he found one of those little hand warmer packs that you can get for outdoor stuff.

"Should've done this before..." He grumbled, activating the pack before putting it on the lycan's head. "That'll help. Probably. I don't fuckin' know, ya hairy bastard."

Peter cleaned up his stuff, shoving things back into his bag, except for the medpack and an ice coffee. He cracked open the can as he sat down by the fire, watching the sleeping monster. Peter studied the beast, he was so different looking in the daytime than he was last night in the light of the flashlight.

Taking out a small notebook and a pen from a pocket in the backpack, Peter started to do his research on the lycan.

Lycan lican??? ask how to spell when he wakes up

-Big scary fucker

-When sleeping looks kinda like a wolf. That might have been mutated with a primate.

-Face is weirdly dog and man like, hard to explain. Not like the stuff you see in movies

-Fur is white like the hot human form's hair

-Skin is weirdly dark gray and looks like leather does it feel like it too?

-Claws are scary as fuck they look like they could do a lot of damage

Peter looked up at the lycan, who shivered and shifted, moving to lay on his stomach now. Making a curious hum, Peter returned to his notes.

-Doesn't have a tail but I feel like he should have one

-Fur looks thick and weird, when I put the hand warmer on him, it felt like touching a wolf's fur, or a malamute's

-Eyes were black last night, is that normal? His eyes when he changed back into a human were weird, like the moon was in them or something, then they turned human looking, Hazel

-Guy is hot in human form

-Older dude with long hair that's going down his back a bit, white like the fur, beard is a nice too

-Looks strong enough in both forms to bend me over his knee and snap my spine in half might let him bend me over in the human form

-Has lots of scars on him

-I think some of those scars are on his wolfy form cause his back had a weird spot with no fur, looks like a bullet wound

-In human form the wounds are dark and have weird, spiderweb veins around them. What the fuck's that about? Should ask him

The human tapped his pen against the paper, looking at his notes, then up at the lycan. "Don't think I'm great at this whole researcher thing, ya know? But don't tell my fanbase, they think I'm legit."

Lucian groaned, clutching tightly at the sheets under him. He smelled sweat and his own, natural musk on the bed. He smelled... other, weird smells in the air too. He smelled coffee, not sure why he smelled that, it was... strong, fresh. He also smelled something sharp, like whiskey.

And the human.

With wince, Lucian tried to sit up, but something fell from his forehead, dropping to his chest. It was damp, and kind of cold. Blinking blearily, he stared at the object, picking it up with a clammy hand.

It was a wet bit of cloth.

"Hm?" He blinked twice, then heard something, coming from the hall.

His attention turned to the doorway, where the human, Peter, was it?, came walking in. He was dressed in a different outfit, one that looked somewhat warmer than the first outfit, he even included a hat. He was coming up with what looked to be a laptop.

Peter stopped when he came in, looking surprised to see Lucian. "Holy fuck, you're awake!"

"It appears I am, yes." Lucian said, then coughed, his throat parched.

"Ah, right, here." Setting the laptop aside, Peter approached a side table next to the bed, and Lucian glared at the object he picked up.

"No."

Peter scoffed, holding out the bowl full of water. "Don't give me that, you drank out of it in your big, wolfy form!"

"I have no memory of this."

"Probably not, you were out of it, making these horrible noises before changing form several times in a row, then went back to doggy mode. Took a huge drink outta the bowl, then passed out again. But that was yesterday mornin', you might want another drink."

Lucian frowned, taking the bowl. "Yesterday morning? How long was I out?"

"Two and a half days."

This did not please Lucian, but he was surprised it wasn't long, usually he would be out for more when healing from silver fevers. "You stayed." He said, not questioning as he sipped from the rim of the bowl.

"Kinda felt like I had to. Bet it was my fault you were sick, considering the silver huntin' knife."

Lucian set aside the bowl and the rag, sitting up a bit better against the pillows. He noticed he was under the blankets, when had that happened? "Your knife isn't fully silver, which is how you were lucky it hadn't poisoned me completely."

"Ah, what?!" Peter looked upset, and then very annoyed. "I spent a fuckin'- damnit, never trust a guy online to do the job for ya."

The lycan sniffed, almost commenting he could make a better blade anyway, but decided not to share that bit of information. Less weapons for the human, the better. "So, you stayed to see if I would die or not?"

"Ehhh... not really? I actually stayed because I felt like shit. Look, you seem like a decent guy, felt kinda bad for the whole stabbin' thing. Plus, I just figured you're protectin' your home, 's usually the thing monsters and stuff do in movies and stories, right?"

"Granted that you are not incorrect on your assumption that I was protecting my home, you need to understand that not all things you see and read are how things are done. I am also not a monster."

"Nnn... right, yeah, got it." Peter said, before moving towards the fireplace. Lucian watched as Peter approached a small setup, like something you'd see at an outdoor fire, of a metal coffee kettle being heated over the fire. "Now that you're awake, you mind answering some questions?"

Lucian raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms. "Questions?"

"About lycans? I told you, I'm a professional vampire hunter, but that also includes looking into other creatures that are supernatural in nature." The human shrugged as he grabbed the kettle along with two metal cups. Ah, so he had one after all, and yet he had wanted Lucian to drink from a bowl like a dog, hm.

"To hunt, I take it?"

"Nah, just have a hatred for the vamps, nothin' on the rest of you lot. At least, nothing I can think of. Plus, come on, a real life wolfman! I've got so many questions!" Peter was grinning, pouring a cup of coffee before holding it out to Lucian. "Don't worry, it's safe, I'm havin' some too."

Lucian took the cup with caution, sniffing it. It just smelled like coffee, and it tasted like it too, all be it with a hint of the rain water from the barrels outside.

"I don't see why I need to answer your questions."

Peter huffed, sitting down on the bed. "Well, I don't see why I needed to keep coming back here to check on you when I could have just left ya behind and went back on my Eastern European spooky tour. And yet, here I am, helping your sick ass."

"Which you caused."

They stared at each other, eyes narrowing, neither backing down. Until Lucian sighed and took a long drink from his coffee. "I don't understand why you're interested, hunter, but if it will remove you faster from my home, than fine."

"Yes!" Peter grabbed for his laptop he had set aside at the end of the bed and opened it. "Alright, let's start with the most basic thing... what's your name?"

"Lucian."

"Lucian, huh? Alright, can work with that. Question two: how come your wolf form doesn't have a tail?"

This was going to be a long day, Lucian sighed.

TBC

Peter would have left Lucian alone after the first day, but the guy was horribly miserable and Peter felt like shit just leaving him behind to suffer.

So, he's been staying in the castle. Lucian has no idea. (He's sleeping on a bunch of pillows and stuff on the floor that he found while snooping around)

#good omens extended universe #john's drabbles #lucian x peter vincent

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mintys-musings · 2 years ago

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Rinne Amagi x GN!Reader - Champagne and Sunshine

Rinne !!!!!! My beloved that I’m not so secretly insane about 💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚💚 funny that his day is the one day i write soft sex- but all the story moments where he’s unexpectedly thoughtful and soft is so *rattles the bars to my cage* do you get it !!! do you understand the insanity it inflicts upon my poor heart who eats up the fucking “hides his actual feelings with a persona” trope (see also: Madara Mikejima) !!!!!! i could go on. Apologies for the long ass build up btw

summary: The morning after your anniversary, Rinne’s still feeling lovey dovey.

tags: soft sex for a while (“soft” compared to usual rinne activity), service top!Rinne, fingering, body worship, unprotected sex, … h-.... Hand holding-

word count: 2197

NSFW under cut~

The golden rays of sunlight kiss your eyelids gently as the smells and sounds of breakfast being made danced into the bedroom. You snuggle further into the bed, wrapping the sheets around yourself more. There’s a distinct lack of another person in this bed that you missed. The only way you thought to half-assedly quell that feeling was by hugging one of the pillows that he was using. You could still smell a bit of his cologne from last night— pink pepper and bergamot.

You nearly drift back into slumber if it wasn’t for the sounds of your usually dead asleep snoring in the AM boyfriend softly cursing under his breath.

“Augh-! Shit- shit-”

He mumbles something else and you hear a soft clattering sound.

He’s a grown man. He can handle whatever it is.

You pay no mind to him and just continue to doze for what feels like only a few seconds before you feel a weight being put on the mattress. For a moment, there was silence.

But just a moment.

“Baaaabe~” Rinne whines as he puts his full weight on top of you. “Honeeeey beeeeee~ Wake up~!”

He nuzzles his face right into your chest, squeezing you into his arms as he rolls the two of you around on the bed.

“Gah! Rinne!” You squirm in his grasp.

As soon as your face emerges from the bedsheets, he showers you in kisses. This wasn’t exactly an uncommon occurrence. Usually this would’ve happened later in the day as you two tended to sleep in together. But he was always much more affectionate and energetic than usual after big events. Be it concerts, award shows were Crazy:B are even so much as nominated, whatever constituted a party called for extra affection from the bee.

Yesterday was your one year anniversary. Surprisingly, he planned an entire trip at an amusement park, rolling dice after every attraction and game stall you two visited to determine the next move. It was more fun than you’d admit to his face. The cherry on top was a candlelit dinner on the rooftop of a high class restaurant. How did he get a reservation? He would only grin and say it was fate. You would say it was his unit mate that you spotted plating a dish table side on your way to the bathroom.

But you didn’t tell him that.

Now you were being nuzzled and kissed all over by him.

You manage to push him off enough to plant a loving kiss of your own on his lips.

“Good morning,” you say. “You seem happy.”

Rinne laughs in the way he always does, scooping you up and settling you on his lap. His blue eyes bore into yours with a love drunk gaze. “‘Course I’m happy, babe.” He presses his lips to yours gently. “I’ve had the privilege of being yours for over a year.” One of his hands raises to cup your cheek. “Who wouldn’t be happy with that?”

For all the time he spent acting like a fool, gambling his savings away, pranking suspecting idols in the agency, he never failed to remind you how important you were to him. At first it was subtle. He’d protect you from leering eyes or suddenly treat you to lunch whenever he supposedly won big at pachinko. Now he was much more comfortable dropping that outrageous mask in front of you. He was at ease with you.

“I made you breakfast.”

His words snap you out of your reminiscing and yes. There was, in fact, a tray with toast and scrambled eggs sitting on your bedside table along with two mugs of coffee. One mug less filled than the other.

“... Did you actually make that?” You ask, tilting your head. The eggs were cooked to a perfect soft scramble and the toast nearly looked fake with how even the toasting was.

He looks to the side, his signature cocky smile on his face as he scratches the back of his neck. “I picked up a few things while livin’ with Niki all those years, ‘kay?”

You give him a sleepy smile and kiss his cheek. “Thank you, honey.”

As you pull back, you see him staring down at you rather intensely. Your eyes follow his gaze. The shirt you were wearing— One of Rinne’s t-shirts, actually— had slipped past your shoulder, exposing your collarbone.

Oh.

Nothing was said for the next few minutes. Only actions existed between you two for this moment. It was a silent agreement as Rinne undresses you like he was unwrapping a delicate package. Once your shirt and any other clothing you were wearing were out of the way, he makes quick work of his undershirt. Rinne keeps his boxers on as he was much too excited to get started on you. He pushes you gently back down onto the bed where you were just dozing off moments ago.

Rinne runs his hands up and down your sides, admiring the view he had of you below him. He was captivated by the way the light shines through the curtains to brush and caress your body in the same way he was doing right now. His face glows with his soft, love drunk expression, lowering his head to give you the nth kiss of the morning. His lips drift from your lips down to your neck and down your body.

He leaves no patch of skin untouched. He relishes in each soft gasp he can pull out of you. Each time he feels your skin pebble to goosebumps, he chuckles and nuzzles his face into that spot a little more.

You merely lie against the pillows and sheets and watch him, one of his hands holding yours with your fingers intertwined. He had already brought you breakfast (which still lay untouched due to this small distraction), but he refused to have you lift a finger. Your one year anniversary might have ended when you both slept, but he couldn’t help but want to treat his lover a little more.

“Hmngh…”

Your eyes flutter as his tongue lavishes itself against your hole. Through half-lidded eyes, you catch a glimpse of him staring up at you like you were heaven sent. His own eyes close eventually as he focuses all his efforts into pleasuring you. Your legs instinctively find their way over his broad shoulders and he moves his hands to hold onto your waist gently.

One of his long fingers makes its way into your hole. Curling and gently caressing you from within, his mouth finds its own rhythm against your sex. Rinne lets out a small mouth of his own, clearly deriving pleasure from this act alone. The vibrations send waves of pleasure up your spine as you try and stop yourself from grinding against his face. He’s not going particularly fast. His tongue moves at a languid pace and he’s taking his time with adding another finger into your eager hole. But he knew every spot that made your body want to keen and whine for him. He’s explored enough that the actions were second nature to him.

Your head falls back against the pillows, softly moaning as your lover holds you right where he wants you. The sleepy daze that was clouding your mind was replaced with the wondrous haze of pleasure. Your hips raise ever so slightly into Rinne’s touch and his grip on your waist tightens. His movements speed up slightly to draw out more noises from you.

You just barely manage to raise your head and see his piercing blue eyes glued to your form.

“Rinne~” Your voice still had the slight morning rasp. Now it was mixed in with your needy whines.

“Yes, honey bee?” He pulls away, the signature smirk you’ve grown to love plasters itself on his face.

For a moment, you just lie there— panting softly. You can’t seem to speak, mind already starting to numb from the gentle but constant drum of pleasure flowing through you.His free hand continues to caress your sides while the fingers inside of you move in and out at a moderate pace. The only sounds filling the room.

He watches your mouth open and shut a couple times. His fingers continue to speed up as he finds your speechless expression all too precious to stop. He doesn’t even want to speak so as to not interrupt the chorus of sweet noises that tumble from your lips.

The way the light shines from behind him makes him appear to have a slight golden outline. Like a little halo of light. Your vision blurs for a moment as you feel your orgasm approach quickly. You try and get your bearings, hand reaching for the one holding your waist. You don’t last long before you feel the pleasure release from your body. You tense for a moment, clenching yourself around Rinne’s fingers, before relaxing back down onto the bed.

Rinne lets out a low whistle and retracts his fingers from your hole. He even makes a show of kissing your sex as if to thank you for the wonderful display you’ve put on for him. You whimper at the emptiness, breathing deeply to calm yourself.

You watch as he frees his cock from his boxers. The way his hand strokes himself up and down was a delicious sight. There was no need for him to even do that considering how hard he was.

“Babe~”

He kisses you again to bring you out of your stupor. “You okay? Can I put it in… please?” He asks so gently, but you could feel the slight strain behind his words.

You look down and see his dick already rubbing against your awaiting hole. The sight alone made you want more.

“I’m okay.” You tell him, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Go ahead, Rinne~”

Rinne pushes himself into your hole the second you give him the okay. You watch as his Adam’s apple bobs and he lets out a guttural moan.

“Shit- You feel so fucking good.” He sucks in a harsh breath. It takes him all the concentration in the world to not pound you into the mattress and let you both get a second to adjust to each other.

Your lips make contact with his throat as he wraps his arms around you. He didn’t care if you left hickeys. In fact, he invited it. His eyes roll upward as you suck on his pale skin and he gave a few shallow thrusts before finding a good pace.

He went slow. In comparison to his usual harsh, eye watering pace, Rinne was going slow. He wanted to savour this moment with you. And it felt just as good.

His pace makes you feel each and every inch leaving and entering you and you find yourself back in that pleasure induced daze from earlier. You kiss and nip at his neck and collarbone, eyes fluttering shut as his fingers rub circles into your back. Your legs hook around his waist to draw him closer.

“I’m so lucky.” His voice is husky as he mutters those words into your ear. “I’m so lucky to be yours. That you let me be yours.” He speeds up slightly. His dick is throbbing inside of you.

“I’m yours too, Rinne.” You whimper, an overwhelming feeling of care and pleasure mixing together inside of you.

His hips smack against yours delightfully, speeding up as time went on. There are no more words exchanged. Just moans and cries of pleasure.

Rinne has reached his boiling point. He lets go of your body in favour of bracing himself against the mattress with one hand. His other hand collects your wrists and holds them above your head as he leans forward. He uses his own body weight to get you into a mating press— the angle making his dick drive deeper into you.

His usual pace was back.

You cry out as his cock flies in and out of you, the pressure of an orgasm bubbling inside of your abdomen once again. Through bleary eyes, you see him dip his head down. You can hear him groaning and growling by your ear. Rinne was drowning in the same overwhelming pleasure and emotions as you were.

“I love you, my honey bee.”

A deep thrust burying his cock as deep as it would go in you punctuates each word.

You couldn’t even respond before you are overtaken by the force of your climax. You shudder against his sturdy body as you are thrown into clear bliss. The immense amount of pleasure runs through you in waves and you find yourself clenching around him more than expected.

Rinne lets out beautiful— damn near melodic— breathy moans himself. A couple more deep thrusts and he is holding you in place as his cum fills your hole. He gives a few shallow thrusts before he stops, pulling you on top of him.

You and him lie there, skin to skin and catching your breaths. His fingers move to stroke your hair.

A soft smile appears on his face as he hears your quiet voice.

“I love you too, Rinne.”

#Minty's Musings #Minty's Writing #esxreadernsfwmonth2023 #ensemble stars smut #nsft es!!#enstars x reader smut #rinne amagi x reader #rinne amagi x reader smut #rinne amagi smut #happy end of mayy whoooh #soft rinne amagi my beloved #im so normal (insane) about the king bee himself #if you see any typos no you didnt #i was gonna proofread but then i got sick okay

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highqueenofelfhame · 2 years ago

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rowaelin // 4.9k words // ciwyw masterlist // masterlist

It was golden light that roused Aelin from sleep, sneaking in through gaps in the curtains and blinds. It took her a moment to remember that it was Rowan’s bed she was curled up in, completely wrapped in his cool pine scent. She inhaled deeply, ducking her nose down into the plush duvet and savored it. Part of her wished he was laying beside her, the sunlight casting soft shadows over his face. With her eyes closed she could imagine it.

It was better that he wasn’t. She knew that. There was hurt on both sides. Words had been said that cut them both in sensitive places, and the wedge between them was starting to feel like an ocean. Yet being here, in his bed, his house, were the first steps toward reconciliation. They just had to get through the hard conversations first.

The best part about Rowan not being in bed with her was the smell of bacon, eggs, and something sweet creeping up the stairs and beneath the door. For what felt like the first time in her pregnancy, her mind and body were in agreement: she was hungry. Though she was hesitant to believe her head wouldn’t be in the toilet immediately following breakfast, she slipped out of bed and padded her way downstairs.

“How did you sleep?” He asked her, eyes roving over her head to toe before he turned back to the pan on the stove. Aelin wondered if it was because she was still in the clothes he’d given her to sleep in, or if it was some instinct of his to make sure she was in one piece. She slid onto one of the chairs at the bar, folding her arms atop it, and laid her head down.

“Like the dead.” A sleepy yawn escaped her before she could finish her response. One of these days, she really needed to take to the internet to see when, exactly, she would stop feeling so wholly exhausted all the time. “Did you sleep okay?”

“I did,” he confessed, the muscles in his back rippling beneath the simple gray t-shirt he wore. “Better than I have all week, actually.”

Rowan was careful as he deposited an egg onto a plate next to a few pieces of bacon and a cinnamon roll. Aelin thanked him when he handed her the plate and a glass of orange juice. It was freshly squeezed if the notes of orange zest throughout the kitchen were any indicator, but when she lifted it to take a sip, her stomach turned violently in protest.

“It’s freshly squeezed. No additives or anything.” Two strings pulled the corners of her lips toward the floor. The confirmation that he spent gods knew how long juicing oranges until she had a full glass worth made her feel guilty for the way her body was reacting.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she said as she put it back down on the bar, far enough away that her nose couldn’t smell it anymore.

“It was nothing.”

“No I mean…” She paused and took a deep breath, eyes closing at the nausea rising in the back of her throat. “Can you put that anywhere else please.”

“Shit. Fuck, Aelin, I’m so sorry.” Rowan was quick to swoop in and pour it directly down the kitchen sink, letting the water chase it down the drain.

“You didn’t know. I didn’t either until I smelled it,” she admitted, finally opening her eyes and lifting her fork.

The first bite of the cinnamon roll was heavenly. It was baked to perfection, the gooey texture nearly melting away on her tongue. It was exactly how she loved her cinnamon rolls, but couldn’t remember ever telling him that. Perhaps once in passing. The eggs were scrambled and in a neat pile of soft, pillowy clouds. None of it touched.

“Did your mom teach you to cook?”

“She did. I was hungry just about constantly growing up, especially after practice and games. It’s come in handy now that I follow such a strict meal plan.” Indeed, his plate didn’t have a cinnamon roll. Instead he had two pieces of toast, some bacon and sausage, and three eggs. When he slid into the seat beside her she noticed two bowls, one with oatmeal and the other full of fruit.

“I was underfeeding you at my house,” she murmured, sitting back and resting her hands on her stomach. The baby, apparently, didn’t want her to enjoy breakfast. She took deep, steadying breaths to keep the food down even as a sheen of sweat started to coat her skin.

“Are you sick a lot?” Concern swam in his gaze as looked her over head to toe, but she nodded her head.

“Lysandra made me go to the emergency room a few days after I found out, and—” Rowan’s head whipped around, eyes wide and full of concern. Aelin held up a hand for him to wait a moment and continued, “There are days I couldn’t keep water down. That’s what the blood test was from. They gave me some medication to help with the nausea.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Something like devastation flashed across his features, squeezing her heart like he’d squeezed those oranges.

“Because I was still freaking out about being pregnant and how I was going to tell you, and I didn’t want you to find out because I was in the hospital over it. Imagine your reaction in an ER, with nothing between us and strangers but—” Aelin was cut off by the all too familiar tell of her mouth watering, head becoming unclear and dizzy as she launched off the chair and sprinted to the bathroom. She barely made it to the toilet before dropping onto her knees and emptying the little contents of her stomach into the bowl.

Rowan was there, like he’d seen the color of her face drain to stark white. His hand was a steady weight on her back, moving slowly up and down her spine while he gathered up her hair in his other hand.

By the time she was through, her throat burned from the pure bile that clawed its way out of her body. Aelin’s ribs and stomach ached from the force of it all and Rowan had to help her back onto her feet, gripping her shaky hands and grounded her to earth.

“Do you want to lay back down?” he asked her, using his fingers to comb her hair up onto the top of her head. Goosebumps erupted over her body when he tugged the hair tie off her wrist and secured the bun into place.

Aelin shook her head and gestured toward the kitchen where their breakfast grew colder by the second and said, “I’m going to shower while you finish eating. And don’t object to it. I know you’re hungry. So eat.”

His eyes were wary as he appraised her. They scanned every feature from head to toe like he was cataloging every single thing about her. Deeming her well enough to manage on her own, he led her out of the bathroom and toward the stairs. Even when she protested, he followed her up and gathered towels and the small bucket of necessities that had everything she would need: body wash, shampoo, conditioner, razors, shaving gel. The little box of tampons almost made her laugh. She wouldn’t be needing those for a while.

When he finally left her alone, she stared at the bin full of everything she might need for her stay. Aelin didn’t question if it was meant for any female visitors he might have. She didn’t have to. Everything in it was smaller sizes of everything she had in her shower at home. Like he had made a list so he knew what to get.

It almost made her angry, how thoughtful it was. Simply because it made it virtually impossible to be upset with him. All of her anger toward him was gradually slipping through her fingers, just like the water she gathered in her cupped hands.

~*~

By the time she was done showering and walked back downstairs, Rowan had finished eating and cleaned up the kitchen. It was near pristine. The dirty dishes had vanished from the stove top and sink and an empty trash bag was in the garbage bin. One of his tattooed fingers was just about to mist the room with air freshener to cover the lingering scent of cinnamon and bacon when she stopped him.

“That’s overkill. I’m fine.” Her polished fingers toyed with the ends of her damp hair as he looked up at her.

Rowan’s eyes swept over her, lingering on her still flat stomach. There was nothing to see, not yet, not for several weeks, but he looked and looked like he could see the baby through her t-shirt, her skin. When he finally looked at her face again he simply nodded and put the can back under the sink.

“Come on,” Aelin said after several heartbeats of silence, her head nodding toward the living room while he pulled a glass from the cabinet and filled it with water from the fridge. Once it was in her hands she glanced at the living room again. “We should talk.”

When she turned her back she heard him sigh deeply. It was strained, like he wasn’t at all looking forward to what was coming, like he dreaded it. Almost like he was scared. She wondered if his heart was racing and pounding like hers as she walked across the room and tucked herself in the corner of the sofa. A blanket is pulled over her legs with hands that have a small tremor. Aelin tucked them between her thighs to make it stop.

“At the time,” she said slowly, turning the words over in her mind before speaking them out loud, “I didn’t understand why you asked me if it was for money. But now, knowing what you actually do for a living, I understand why you felt the need to ask.”

“That isn’t what it was.” The words were clipped, his jaw clenching as he paced in front of her. Aelin watched him until he finally sat down on the edge of the couch, fingers drumming against his knees to quell his nervous energy. Confusion rose to the surface in her mind.

“Okay. Explain it to me then.”

“I— fuck. I don’t like talking about this.” The second part seemed to be said more toward himself than to her, so she waited patiently while he sifted through letters and syllables to make words.

Rowan looked over at her and chewed on his cheek. More than once, his lips parted to try to sew together his words, but closed again. Like he didn’t know how, when, or where to begin. Aelin wasn’t sure either. They both had a lot to say, had apologies to make. There was so much, though, that it was hard for her to find the words, too.

“I don’t like talking about it because I don’t… I don’t want you to think I’m making excuses about how I treated you. I’m not. But it’s the truth. Any single one of my friends, my family, they can back it up.”

“Rowan. It’s okay. Just talk to me.” The fingers in her lap ached to reach for him, twitching against her bare legs beneath the blanket. She wove them together to stay put.

“I had been sleeping with a woman for a while. Nothing serious, just casual when I had the time. She ended up getting pregnant about six months or so into it. I didn’t want the relationship to get serious. She… Lyria and I weren’t really well matched. We didn’t know each other. I found it hard to open up to her. More than that, I didn’t want to open up to her. But I was more than willing to step up where the baby was concerned.” He paused, tongue swiping over his teeth. Aelin’s heart was trying to escape her ribcage. She took a steadying breath, telling herself to listen and not draw conclusions before he finished. Still, she wondered. Did he have a kid already?

“Lyria was pushing for a relationship, to marry eventually. I was 23, still pretty early in my career, nowhere near ready for marriage. Especially not with a woman I barely knew . Every time it was brought up I shut it down. Not to break her heart,” he added with a swift glance at Aelin. “I don’t think she was ever in love with me. But because it wouldn’t have been a fruitful marriage, we would have been miserable, and I truly didn’t see the point.”

Aelin nodded in understanding, “You didn’t want to settle.”

“I didn’t want her to settle either. It wouldn’t have been fair for anyone, especially not the baby in a few years time. I didn’t want to raise a child in a loveless home. But all of that isn’t why I reacted so… fucking horribly.”

“Okay.” Her voice was barely above a whisper, but loud enough to encourage him to keep going. After another steadying breath, he did.

“One night I very firmly shut it down again. I told her it wasn’t on the table. I want to make it clear that she had a good job, she had really good health insurance. But she started asking me for money. Of course I wanted to give the support she needed, so I gave. And gave. And gave. I couldn’t not give her the money. We weren’t close enough for me to know the extent of her income, and I had money I could afford to lose. Maybe she did, maybe she didn’t, but whenever I asked about it she would get cagey. Accuse me of accusing her. It was such a complicated web to unravel and the fighting was so tiring.”

Aelin was nothing more than a concrete statue, her limbs heavy at her sides. She was unable to move while he spoke, eyes focused on the frayed corner of the blanket in her lap. Every sentence was turned over in her mind carefully, knowing that the grief and frustration that marred his face and sharpened his words was absolutely true.

“One day she called me several times in a row. I didn’t answer because our flight got in really late and I was exhausted. There was no energy in my soul to argue with her about money, so I sent it to voicemail. Later she sent me a text that she miscarried and… I didn’t want the relationship with her but I was just getting used to the idea of being a dad. I have always wanted to have kids. The timing was off at the time, but I was excited about it. And then it was just… gone.”

“Rowan,” she started gently, desperate to offer him comfort of some sort. No words would be a balm to that wound, but she couldn’t bring herself to reach out and touch him. Instead of looking at her he held up a hand, silently asking her to wait. Gods, he wasn’t finished. How could it get worse?

“I found out a few weeks later through a mutual friend that she had miscarried nearly an entire month earlier. All through that month I was still sending her money for appointments, for nursery furniture, car seats…” Rowan shook his head, silver hair falling into his eyes. “We stopped talking after I told her I knew the truth. That she was using all the money I was giving her to fund her lifestyle, hardly any of it was going toward anything for the baby, and that she weaponized the miscarriage to hurt me. It was a massive fucking blow out, and we haven’t spoken since.”

All the letters and words had evacuated her brain. The weight of his eyes trailing over her face made her finally meet his gaze. All the empathy she had in her heart was swimming in the ocean blue of her eyes that gleamed with unshed tears. In his, she saw that he knew the words she couldn’t find to speak out loud.

“It makes me feel like a massive piece of shite, but sometimes I wonder if she was even pregnant at all or if the whole thing was just a way to get money from me.” His fingers pinched the bridge of his nose, green eyes fluttering shut as he took a moment to just breathe. Aelin wondered if he had ever voiced that confession out loud before.

“I can understand why you reacted the way that you did.” The words swept out of her mouth on a heavy exhale, hands flexing in her lap.

“But?”

“I don’t fault you for the reasons behind your actions, Rowan. But I also can’t just freely let go with what you said and how you said it. I wish that I could, but I felt like we…” Aelin trailed off, eyes shifting around the room on a scavenger hunt for words she had lost.

“Like we had something more than what I reflected in my reaction,” he finished. A hand dragged through his hair and down the back of his neck before settling over the mouth that had put him in so much trouble in the last eight days.

“I thought you trusted and respected me more.”

“I do, Aelin. I– fuck. I do. I am so sorry for what I said, how I said it, what I accused you of, that I hurt you. For all of it, I’m so fucking sorry.” Rowan’s hands flexed against his thighs like he was dying to touch her almost as much as she was dying to be touched by him. They curled into fists so tight she could see his thumb nails turning white from the pressure.

“I know,” she assured him. “I know that, I just–”

Her hands moved restlessly in front of her, trying to pull her thoughts into coherent sentences. Trying to fully express how deeply it had cut her for him to react that way was difficult. The empty space in his arms where she had fit so perfectly had started to feel like home. It was the safest she had ever felt and following this path of life had felt so entirely right. But then he opened his stupid, perfect mouth. Those words had been dripping with such a sharp edge there wasn’t a way it wouldn’t have hurt.

“I think I just need some time. I think we need to slow down. This wasn’t supposed to become anything. You know? It was just meant to be fun, but–” She cut herself off with a shrug, her fingers falling onto her flat stomach. Somewhere in there, a baby that was equal parts of her and Rowan was swimming around. Those feelings threatened to undo her if she allowed herself to feel them. Instead of letting them bubble over, she shoved a cork deep down into that bottle to avoid it just a little while longer.

Rowan’s inhale was sharp, a blade against its scabbard. A chilly silence filled the room, faint buzzing in her ears like she was on the snowboarding slopes in the Staghorns after a heavy snowfall. His fingers drummed against his thighs, eyes staring straight ahead when he finally nodded in understanding.

A relationship hadn’t been on her radar. It was why the long-distance nature of it worked out so well. With time between each visit, she wasn’t able to throw herself into his heart no matter how much she may have wanted to. Nevermind that the last time she had dived head first into something it had ended with her broken and bleeding. That relationship left scars that were still tender, still itching as they healed.

It didn’t matter how badly she was desperate to be curled up against him, feel his skin warm where they touched. How much she craved to taste his lips, to kiss the hollow of his throat and down his chest, to just feel his body splayed beneath her fingers. To know that things would be okay. There was so much more at play here than what she wanted. A little baby was caught in the crossfires, and she has to be sure that going forward their relationship was built on more than a whirlwind romance.

Instead of reaching for his hand and continuing to let herself fall for him, she carefully constructed a wall around her heart and nodded in return.

“About me lying to you about… everything,” she began, but was quickly cut off by Rowan shaking his head so rapidly it made her dizzy.

“There’s no need for you to explain that. I do not fault you for wanting to protect yourself, Aelin. I wish we had both been more honest with each other, but, no. You don’t need to explain or apologize. I understand. I did the same thing.” The tightness in her chest eased. For the first time since everything had come out, her ribs weren’t so tightly constricted when she took a steadying breath. They had both lied for similar reasons, and her secrets didn’t seem to change anything for him, at least.

Rowan’s eyes seemed dark and distant, not at all what she was used to. But the conversation at hand was one of pain and hurt. It couldn’t be easy for him to lay this all at her feet, yet he had, and now they could move forward. He would give her the space she required and after that, they would figure things out.

A kernel of hope nestled itself into her heart. Aelin just hoped she wouldn’t get hurt this time.

~*~

White noise skittered along his skin, his nerves. The stifling sound of silence filled his ears like cotton as she finally stood and began to gather her things. The minutes ticked by like hours and Rowan hated every single drawn out second of it. He just wanted her to stay despite Aelin admitting that what they had between them wasn’t supposed to be anything. Those words were sure to echo between his ears during every hour he existed for the rest of his life.

Deep down in the trenches of his mind he was aware it was the best option for now. For them to pump the brakes, for him to make it up to her. Rowan understood why she needed time to process. He had assumed the worst of her when in reality, the truth of those pregnancy tests had shaken her to her core, just like they had him.

Still, he couldn’t deny his excitement. While he had been wholly unprepared when Lyria was pregnant, he was ready this time. Ready in a way that only resulted in happiness buzzing through his bones when he imagined what the child would look like, what they would be like. And if he and Aelin could figure this out and work through the missteps…

Gods. He was going to be a dad. After she took the time she needed and he proved himself, they could be a family. A real family. It wasn’t going to be like last time because he was already tripping and stumbling over the edge of a cliff, his feelings rising as rapidly as the water. He was falling in love with her, and it terrified him.

Rowan could wait. He would give her all the time she wanted, that she needed, and on the other side of it he would make sure that she was the happiest woman in the world. That their baby had the universe at their feet. Anything either of them wanted, he would ensure they had it. Nothing else mattered like this, not even football.

A new determination had melded into his bones by the time Aelin came downstairs with her bag over one shoulder. He stood as she slipped on her shoes, then walked her out to her car. Apprehension was all over her face, evident in the way her fingers twisted together when she faced him after opening her door.

“I’ll give back your clothes soon, I just felt gross putting the ones from yesterday back on.” Aelin gestured to the pair of boxers and t-shirt she wore. Rowan shook his head.

“I’m not worried about that. Keep them if you wish.” A lock of hair blew into her face with the wind. Without thinking he caught it with his fingertips, grazing her cheekbone as he pushed it behind her ear.

Aelin stiffened and took a single step back. The emotional distance was wider than the ocean when her head shook, brows meeting between her eyes that didn’t quite meet his.

“Please don’t touch me like that,” she said quietly, but not weakly. Ice water had been dumped over his head despite the warmth in the air. His fingers clenched into a tight fist as they dropped to his side and he promptly shoved them into his pockets. Rowan took several steps back, jaw wired shut. Uncomfortable. Aelin looked uncomfortable at his touch, and he wanted to slam his fist into the concrete because of it.

“I’ll text you soon,” she said, and he suddenly remembered the question that had been floating around in the back of his mind for the last two days. Just as she was about to shut the door, he grabbed the top of it to keep it from closing. Aelin jolted a bit, her eyebrows rising high as the clouds.

“How did you find out?” She looked at him for a second while she processed the question, and then laughed. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever heard.

“My best friend, Lysandra. I hadn’t sent her very many good pictures of your face yet, so she just googled ‘Rowan’ along with soccer and Doranelle hoping for a team photo or something.” Rowan laughed, too. Some of the tension eased from his shoulders as she smiled at him in their truce.

He nodded after a moment, a small smile still on his face. He stepped back to let her drive away, standing in the mid-afternoon silence while her tires kicked up clouds of dust. It would be a long road to win her trust back, but he wouldn’t stop until he had earned it.

~*~

The car ride back to Varese was spent choking back tears and forcing air into her lungs to ground her. As soon as she was back in her apartment, however, the dam broke. A tidal wave of emotion crashed down upon her head, and the front door was barely closed before her thumbs were punching buttons on her phone. By the time Lysandra picked up there were sobs violently shaking her entire body.

Before pregnancy, this wouldn’t have been anything to cry over. She still would have called Lysandra, of course, but it wasn’t something that would wreck her like this. Truthfully, Aelin didn’t even know why she was crying, other than the fact that she just felt alone. No universe existed where Aelin Ashryver Galathynius was alone in anything, much less a pregnancy. But she had nowhere to go to seek comfort in Varese. Two weeks ago it would have been to Rowan, but that was off the table. Now she just had an empty apartment and her thoughts.

Lysandra listened while she cried and tried to get a deep breath down. Aelin hadn’t been so upset in years and was positive that if she wasn’t pregnant, everything wouldn’t feel quite so out of control. As it was, there were no handholds to grab onto, no footholds to keep her from sliding down the cliff. While her emotions waxed and waned, Lysandra was there to listen to it all, to soothe her anxiety when she started to spiral out of control.

Part of her wished Aedion knew about the pregnancy because she needed him right now. But Lysandra filled his shoes almost well enough for everything to dwindle to a simmering calm.

Though she was set to fly out next week, Lys managed to find a lone ticket that would put her in Varese early the next morning. They talked while she packed, the blonde managing to calm down enough to go over everything that had been said between her and Rowan earlier that morning.

“I want to forgive him,” she said quietly a few hours later, curled up in her kleenex-covered bed.

“Why can’t you?”

“I–” Her lips twisted into a knot as she frowned at the floor. “I just need to be sure. You know? I need to… I don’t know.”

“You need to know that if this is going to be an actual relationship and not a co-parenting situation, that he isn’t going to hurt you again,” Lysandra offered, somehow seeing directly into Aelin’s mind and knowing the inner workings better than she did herself.

“Yeah,” she sniffed, those emotions threatening to spill over once again despite how much she had already cried. Even though a relationship was the last thing she wanted. “I just need to be sure.”

An hour later, Lysandra was ready for her 6:30 AM flight, and Aelin was more than ready to not feel quite so alone.

When she pulled up to the airport to pick up her best friend in the early hours of the morning, the sun just beginning to crest over the mountaintops to the east, it wasn’t the dark-haired beauty she was expecting. In fact, she almost drove right past the man that shared her eyes and golden hair. The man that could be her twin.

It was Aedion.

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