#Odette hall

[sickfictropes]

a line from my novel that i thought people might enjoy bc i've gotten quite a few requests for sibling whump/angst, specifically sisters :)

[irisslove]

Odette - 3-Star Michelin and Asia's Best Restaurant

[utterlyinevitable]

ode x e pre valtentines paris shenanigans mayhaps

[zablife]

Shelby Christmas Spectacular

Summary: The Shelby family and their friends gather for a memorable Christmas party.

A/N: Written for @little-diable Chi's 17K celebration. Two lines in bold are borrowed from the Christmas scene in The Godfather. I admit I deviated from the x reader requirement so I hope that's okay. I wanted to find a way to honor all my moots' lovely OCs. (See the end for credits.) Fair warning this might be the worst thing I've ever written, but at least it was made with love 🤍

Warnings: drinking, cursing, mention of a weapon, mention of illness, hint of nsfw

Frances had been right suggesting the enormous Christmas trees in each room of the Shelby home. Something in her caring nature had sensed the change in Mr. Shelby’s spirits leading up to Christmas Eve. Now her preparations were being praised by Tommy’s partner, Lucy, who went room to room admiring the ornately decorated boughs. She did raise a concern over the candles on the tree in the parlor, wondering if it might be best to extinguish them before John's lot began running circles around the tree. However, she thought better of it knowing Tommy’s trusted man, Don would be standing nearby. 

The gentle giant was a comfort to them both this past year and she trusted him implicitly with the protection of their home. Nothing very bad could happen to you with Don by your side, Lucy thought, recalling the days when he’d saved Tommy from himself when she couldn’t.

As she passed through the hall, a servant delivered a telegram on an ornate silver tray. "Who do you know in Hong Kong, ma'am?" the girl asked with awe struck gaze. Lucy plucked the card from the curious maid, squinting at the small type. Having a grand time. My wife and I will return in January." She read the last line once more in a haze of disbelief.

"So he married her?" Tommy rumbled with satisfaction, pleased to hear his cousin was finally settled with the witty and well-connected Mei Chang. Wrapping his arounds Lucy, he gave her waist a gentle squeeze of appreciation he too had someone loyal by his side.

Lost in their own world, they scarcely noticed the click of Polly's high heels against the polished wood. That is until her voice rose sharply behind them. "Married?" she cried.

Lucy attempted to hide the telegram, but Polly captured it between her fingertips at the last moment, reading the lines that exposed her son's secret.

"Thought that's what ya wanted, Pol," Tommy remarked, only to watch the lines of her face crease in despair.

"I wasn't there, Tommy," she noted sadly.

"We'll have a party as soon as they return," Tommy assured her, glancing tentatively at Lucy who was doing her utmost to bite her tongue. She was perhaps the last person one might expect to give a party in Michael's honor, but the placation seemed to soothe Polly so she didn't object.

There was no time to consider the proposal now anyway, Frances brightly announcing the youngest Shelby siblings, twins Sylvie and Sonya, were on the line from London. Any lingering sadness vanished as Polly practically sprinted into Tommy's office to be the first to speak with them.

A tear came to her eye as she listened to their cheerful greeting which sounded very far away. "I'm sorry I couldn't make the last performance of the year," she apologized, thoughts drifting to their graceful form en pointe.

"It's alright, Pol," Sonya assured her softly.

"We've been so busy with rehearsals, we wouldn't have had time for a proper chat anyhow," Sylvie added.

"I'm coming in the new year then and you'll tell me all about playing Odette, hm?" Polly hummed.

"I ...erm...wasn't chosen as Odette," Sylvie revealed, failing to conceal the bitter disappointment in her voice.

Polly's head snapped up at that moment, ready to battle with the ballet master she longed to torment each time he snubbed her nieces in favor of another dancer. "I'll make a call," she promised, fingers subconsciously stroking the flick knife in her pocket. "No, Pol!" the girls replied in unison.

Polly could only chuckle at their solidarity, knowing they'd have her head if she interfered. They hadn't changed a bit from their days running thru the fens as wild reckless wains who abhorred being told what to do.

"Alright," Polly conceded, relinquishing the knife's handle. "I'll stay out of it so long as you two keep out of trouble. Do you hear?" Even as she said it she didn't believe they would, especially during their upcoming break when they would likely spend their nights in clubs. "No galavanting with Chi!" she added sharply.

"We won't," they replied in static monotone, tired of the lectures about their friend who had been deemed a bad influence after John and Arthur learned of her penchant for priests and professors.

Wishing them a happy Christmas, Polly passed the phone to Tommy who undoubtedly wanted to be sure they'd extended an invitation to tonight's party to Alfie and his wife Rose. Another chorused reply came down the line in one long exasperated sigh. Apparently it was a great insult to suggest they shouldn't have been trusted with the task.

Tommy rolled his eyes as he selected a cigarette from its case, allowing them to playfully berate their older brother about his lack of faith in them. Wishing them well for tonight's performance, he ended the call, eyes drifting toward the cars arriving in a long line down the front drive.

Of course Ada would be the first to appear, her glamorous new style on display for all to see. He smirked to himself as he took in the sight of her bright red lipstick specially ordered in New York and shipped to Boston by the caseful now that she could afford it. His sister had dressed to impress this evening and he was curios to see who she'd chosen to escort her when he nearly choked at the sight.

Her old friend Irene stepped from the car moments later, arm wrapped snuggly beneath Ada's gloved hand as they ascended the steps of Arrow House. "Are they..." Tommy began.

"Together?" Lucy offered, meeting Tommy at the window. She only shrugged at the question, uncertain of the details, though she quickly made a note to find out.

The car no one seemed to be able to place was the expensive Bentley, a newer model which put Tommy's to shame. As Bonnie and Vano passed, a long, low whistle rose from their mouths in appreciation of such a fine automobile.

"Don't you be lookin'!" Johnny Dogs scolded as he followed in their wake. "M not just gonna be lookin'," Vano whispered as he jabbed Bonnie in the ribs. His eyes roved the emerald green paint and polished chrome accents, a mischievous grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. Nodding politely to the driver now exiting the car, he thought of nothing but a carefree joy ride later when no one would know he was missing.

He might have thought the car was impressive, but his jaw dropped at the sight of who exited moments later. A strikingly beautiful woman with tan skin and dark hair adjusted a scandalously low cut gown beneath her fur.

"Who is that?" he asked Bonnie.

"That's Eva Nelson and you best not look at her either, dinlow!" Bonnie advised, averting his gaze as Jack Nelson glowered at them. "He'll take a garrote to your balls for less," he gulped.

Vano only chuckled in reply, the cloak of youth and stupidity providing ample protection against Bonnie's warnings.

"Thought you were here to see Evie?" Bonnie remarked, watching his friend carefully.

"I am," Vano replied, straightening his jacket to impress Mr. Shelby.

As they reached the front door, they were quickly parted by a large slobbering animal barreling toward Tommy. As the enormous mastiff left a shining trail of saliva in puddles along the carpet, his owners followed behind with wide smiles.

"Tommy!" Alfie called out, arms outstretched in cheerful greeting, his cane nearly bashing Bonnie on the head.

"Alfie," Tommy barely acknowledged, preoccupied with the whereabouts of the dog. "And Cyril," he added with a slight start to his voice and a wince upon hearing the crash of something breakable in the next room.

"We couldn't bear to leave him alone for the night. I hope you don't mind," Rose commented with airy nonchalance. "Besides we know how fond you are of him." It was clear by the barely concealed grin of impish delight she knew that to be false. Alfie couldn't help the roar of laughter upon seeing Tommy's reddening face only made worse by the appearance of a distraught Evie.

"Dad, my ducks!" she shrieked, waiving her hands in perplexed gesturing which told him nothing of the flapping and honking created in Cyril's wake.

Momentarily distracted by the half-eaten wheel of cheese in Evie's hand, Rose began to snicker. They were full fledged giggles by the time Polly came rushing in to chide the teen. "For fucks sake, Evie, put that back!"

In a failed attempt to hide the cheese behind her back, she felt Polly tug her arm away to assess the damage. Noting the prominent teethmarks gnawed savagely into the rind, Polly cast a horrified glance at Tommy who was pinching the bridge of his nose to stave off an inevitable headache. He would need more than the one permitted drink to get through tonight, he thought.

After Arthur had been found drunk in the stairwell earlier in his Santa costume, he'd promised Lucy to stay sober in order to chaperone. Now the job would have to fall to nurse Charlotte as Tommy urgently motioned for a maid to bring him three fingers of whisky.

Then he called for another at the sight of Finn stumbling from a nearby closet, Santa suit around his ankles and striped underpants on display for all to see. "What the fuck are you doing, eh?" Tommy asked in exasperation, assuming Finn had shirked his duty in favor of more amusing activities. "Pull your trousers up, there are children here," he hissed at his younger brother.

Clutching at the fuzzy red material, Finn retorted, "It's the bloody kids who pulled 'em down. What did Esme put in those cakes?" Just then a chorus of war whoops erupted down the corridor, a sugar fueled search party giving chase. Finn scrambled away as they rounded the corner, continuing to hunt their uncle in manic delight.

Alfie escorted his wife into the drawing room with Rose clutching at her sides, wheezing through tears as she told her husband she'd found a new appreciation for Christmas festivities.

Jack and Eva Nelson were not as amused by the scene before them, Eva making snide comments about everything from their pitiful decorations to the lack of champagne. Jack didn't attempt to correct her, hoping to stay on her good side long enough to fuck on Shelby's desk later. A literal and figurative fuck you to his former business partner.

Blissfully ignorant to the scheme being concocted before him, Tommy leaned into Polly to discuss another pressing matter. "Pol, there are some people here not on the list." He eyed Luca Changretta, wondering when his old enemy had snuck past his guards.

As he approached the uninvited guest, he quickly realized Luca wasn't alone. A petite blonde with a slight baby bump took Luca's hand, her warm smile melting the ice in Tommy's cool stare.

"I don't believe we've met. I'm Emily Changretta," the woman announced cheerfully. "You have a lovely home," she complimented her host.

"Thank you," Tommy managed with a tight smile. Turning to Luca he asked through gritted teeth, "And why are you in my home, Mr. Changretta?"

Luca shrugged as he attempted to apologize for the business with Solomons last year, a gesture Emily insisted upon to clear the air before their child was born. He stumbled as he chose his words, the act of humility quite unfamiliar to him. "Anyway...I come baring gifts to show there's no hard feelings on my end," Luca confided, reaching into his jacket pocket.

Misreading the gesture, Tommy pulled his revolver from his side at lightning speed. Seconds later he heard another gun cock beside him, realizing Don had been watching in the shadows.

As the crisis unfolded, Emily shielded her bump with an ear piercing shriek. She watched as Luca raise his hands into the air, a good natured chuckle tumbling from his lips as he assured her, "It's okay, honey. They don't trust nobody." He instructed her to remove a small box from his pocket and she did so with trembling hands. Holding it up for Tommy to see, Luca lightly shook the contents with a taunting smile.

Tommy could only sigh in relief as he holstered his gun and gave Don the signal to stand down. Reflexes sharp with lingering adrenaline, Tommy deftly caught the box as it came sailing through the air at him. As it clicked open an expensive set of gold engraved cufflinks sparkled back at him from the velvet lining and he furrowed his brow in confusion.

"Just tryin' to help you dress better," Luca said with a wink. Tommy's jaw clenched at the old insult resurfacing. It was clear Luca would never tire of making jokes at his expense.

Apparently that wasn't the only thing he had in mind to annoy Tommy, having brought a Sicilian business associate with him as well. Stefano Spinietta was a loathsome man who wore too much hair pomade and reeked of pungent cologne which lingered in every room he passed through. He also boasted endlessly about his family's importance and a girl back home desperate to become part of it.

As Lucy became the fifth person to hear his speech, she rolled her eyes and whispered to her horse trainer May, "I'd wager a tenner that Nina despises him more than I do." Needing a break from the head splitting boredom of the self important little man, Lucy went in search of better company. She felt a bit guilty leaving Ethel and May to chat with him, but knew they were more than capable of handling the pretentious weasel with their caustic wit.

In no time she found Ada and Irene, the women showering her with compliments on her new velvet green dress. "Please thank your mum for me, Irene. She really outdid herself this time," Lucy requested.

"She's the best dressmaker in Small Heath," Irene agreed.

"I think you both share that honor," Ada reminded her with a proud grin. She never tired of discussing Irene's gift for working with fabrics, even if the woman was too modest to admit her talent.

"Have you seen the dress Arthur bought for Heaven?" Irene asked, changing the subject to something other than herself.

"She looked stunning until Arthur vomited down the front," Charlotte replied, joining the conversation and the party for the first time that evening.

"Charlotte! I'm so sorry Tommy saddled you with Arthur tonight," Lucy apologized. She quickly filled a cup with punch and offered it to their employee turned close personal friend.

Charlotte dismissed the notion with a soft laugh. "It was no trouble. "Minding Arthur is like minding a sleepy kitten," she assured Lucy, clinking their glasses together in a show of solidarity.

"Not like Tommy then?" Lucy joked, everyone now thankfully able to laugh at the times Tommy had cursed and thrown things at the woman tasked with helping him walk again.

"God, Tommy was more like a savage lion!" Charlotte quipped, earning a hearty laugh from Lucy.

"Still is!" Lucy added jovially.

The women had hardly noticed Heaven appear, despite the stark contrast of her flowing white hair in a sea of brunettes. She had fashioned a new outfit out of the clothes she packed for the next day and somehow looked even more stunning than when she arrived.

"Heaven's back!" Ada exclaimed, waving her over to them.

Making her way through the crowd, Heaven appeared anxious and a bit out of place until they realized why. In her right hand, she awkwardly held the wrist of a little boy shivering of cold and clutching a stuffed toy to his chest.

Knowing that Heaven never knew what to do around children, Lucy took the lead. "Who have you got there?" she asked, looking down at the small child with a look of pity. His clothes looked far too thin for the weather and his teeth chattered loudly despite the gramophone playing a spirited jazz tune.

Heaven only shrugged, releasing the boy's hand as Lucy bent down to have a chat with him. "My name's Lucy. What's yours, love?" she asked in a warm, welcoming voice.

"Isaac, ma'am," the polite child replied, shifting his weight as he grew nervous with the attention of so many people.

"And who have you got there?" she asked, pointing to the toy he was squeezing beneath one arm.

"Mr. Giraffe," he sniffed before falling silent once more.

"Hello, Mr. Giraffe, what brings you all this way?" Lucy asked the toy animatedly.

Eyes flicking down to the well loved friend he always carried, Isaac confessed, "He's here to see Mr. Shelby. We need to ask a favor for my mum."

Lucy stared up at Ada and Heaven who only returned quizzical looks. None of them had ever seen the boy before and they certainly didn't know of his ailing mother, bed ridden back in town. However, the toy now looked familiar to Ada who gently asked to see it.

As Isaac held the one eyed friend to her patiently, she gasped at the recollection of Tommy donating it after Florence left home. The child was indeed telling the truth that he knew her brother. She nodded determinedly to Lucy, taking Isaac by the hand to see Tommy.

He was a brave lad, asking Tommy for help without tears and was swiftly rewarded with treats and the company of the other children. He settled in beside them as Emily taught them card games, whispering her best tips for counting cards. By the end of the evening Isaac was driven home with a belly full of cake and a doctor to see to his mum.

Waving goodbye from front steps, Tommy and Lucy stood arm in arm beneath a star filled sky. They sighed in unison, the long day wearing on them both.

"It's been quite a night, hasn't it?" Tommy recollected, too tired to think of the guests still lingering inside or the enormous mess to be cleaned after Cyril chased Evie's ducks through the lower level of the house bringing a couple of Christmas trees crashing down.

"And we've Michael and Mei's wedding breakfast to plan," Lucy pointed out.

Tommy hummed in recognition, no further words spoken between them. Lucy merely offered the comfort of her presence without the need to fill the silence. However, internally she was going over Frances' unofficial count of the mayhem: 12 guests too drunk to drive, 11 frantic maids to serve them, 10 pound missing from the safe, 9 bottles of whisky consumed, 8 stolen hubcaps, 7 smashed vases, 6 traumatized ducks, 5 suspiciously sticky piles of paperwork in Tommy's office, 4 men in need of stitches, 3 carpets needing cleaning, 2 overturned trees with broken ornaments and 1 ruined Santa suit.

She vowed not to think of it all now. Not when she'd yet to have a dance with Tommy. So she gently guided him inside to sway beneath a sprig of mistletoe. Resting her head on her lover's shoulder, she leaned into his strong frame with a contented sigh.

"What do you want for Christmas?" Tommy asked.

"Me? Oh, just you," she admitted with a giggle.

"Was tonight everything you wanted?" he inquired thoughtfully, cheek pressed to the top of her head.

She nodded slowly, grazing her cheek against his shirt front. "Everyone together and no fucking fighting?!" she exclaimed it like the miracle it was.

"We pulled it off," Tommy announced, leaning in for a celebratory kiss.

The tender moment was soon interrupted by Arthur's rough voice and the sound of mud caked boots sliding on hardwood. Still half drunk, Arthur staggered into the room. Pushing his hair from his forehead, he grumbled, "Fookin' kids!"

"Who, Arthur?" Lucy snapped.

"Isaiah and Vano are fightin' in the garden, Tom," Johnny Dogs finished the thought as he poked his head around the door frame. "Somethin' about Evie," he shrugged.

"Fuckin' hell," Tommy huffed, striding out to confront his daughter's suitors.

"Daddy, wait!" Evie cried out as she heard him stomping down the hall toward the back door. She grabbed hold of his coat tails, attempting to halt her father and his infamous temper.

"It was nice while it lasted," Lucy commented, holding up the hem of her gown to rush after them.

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

"It's rubbish isn't it?" Cillain asked, peering over the script he'd been reading aloud for the past twenty minutes.

A snort of laughter erupted from across the sofa, Clara's hand clapping over her mouth to stifle her giggles. "I didn't want to say anything..." she began before Cillian cut her off with a hearty laugh of his own.

"You didn't have to," he noted, tossing the pages aside as he pulled his wife into his arms. Cocooning her in his warm embrace they sat for some time silently considering the confidential pages of the Peaky holiday special.

"Steven’s taking the piss surely," Clara said as she thumbed through the pages of new characters and scenarios never once mentioned in the show. "It reads like..." she attempted to find the least offensive term to describe the disjointed work.

"A screwball comedy," Cillian offered.

"I was going to say fever dream," she confessed, looking up at her husband's striking blue eyes to determine how serious he was about the project.

"I know what you're thinking," he smirked, taking her chin in his hands. "But we'll hire Brummie to polish it for us and it'll be grand."

Clara gave him a worried look, "Isn't she the one who likes to bring out Tommy's dark side? I'm not sure I want to live with you whilst you channel him!"

"What about the American?" he asked with a deep sigh.

"K? I do enjoy the sentimental moments she creates," she remarked wistfully. "But I don't know why you're disregarding the other projects you've been sent. The romantic comedy about the tattoo artist with purple hair or the drama with the Kurdish Italian academic?"

However, he hadn't quite been listening, another thought suddenly stealing his attention. “You know, if we did this holiday thing, Marianne would be perfect for Lucy,” he mused, thinking of the enormous success of his friend's recent play and her rave reviews.

"You're actually entertaining the idea?" Clara asked hesitantly.

"Well I don't have to decide tonight. Let's forget about it for now, yeah?" he suggested, eyes growing heavy. "I want to enjoy the peace and quiet while we have the house to ourselves."

"A silent night," Clara agreed with a nod, leaning in for a deep kiss that would surely distract them both.

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

Credits:

Brummie (as herself) @brummiereader

Charlotte (Tommy's nurse) @toms-cherry-trees

Chi (as herself) @little-diable

Clara Murphy (Cillian's wife) @cillmequick

Don (Tommy's employee and lover) @the-makingsofgreatness

Emily (Luca's wife) @darklydeliciousdesires

Ethel (May's gf) @shelbydelrey

Eva (Jack's wife) @evita-shelby

Evie (Tommy's adopted daughter) @novashelby

Heaven (Arthur's wife) @call-sign-shark

Isaac (boy from Small Heath) @garrison-girl-08

Jiyan-a.k.a "the Kurdish Italian academic" (Cillian's love interest in Shadow of the Sea) @lunarubra

K (as herself) @runnning-outof-time

Lucy (Tommy's partner) @mischievouslittlecreature

Marianne (Cillian's theater protege) @look-at-the-soul

Mei (Michael's wife) @vivianleighwishesshewasme

Mr. Giraffe (Florence Shelby's stuffed toy) @teenwolf-theoriginals

Quinn-a.k.a "the purple haired tattoo artist" (Tommy's love interest in Misadventures) @moral-terpitude

Rose (Alfie's wife) @justrainandcoffee

Stefano (Sicilian bastard) @peakyswritings

Sylvie & Sonya (Tommy's twin sisters) @pacifymebby

Vano (a gypsy boy travelling with the Golds) @wonderlanddreamer

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

Tag List:

@alanadetigy 

@severewobblerlightdragon

@lovemissyhoneybee

@theshelbyslimited

@kittycatcait219

@callsign-fangirl

@theshelbyclan

@red-riding-wood

@elenavampire21

@lyarr24

@the-fangirl-diaries

@kmc1989

@everythingelseisextra

@stilestotherescue 

@helen06dreamer

@pietroxreader 

@galactict3a

@ietss

@mostly-marvel-musings

@writeroutoftime

@yolobloggers

@outlanderuniverse

@anilovessadbooks

@tremendousstarlighttragedy

@elliaze

@leenieweenie

@snickersmee

@niktwazny303

@copinghex

@margaret-morriss-secrethideout

@hecatemoon87

@ryecosse

@dandelionprints

@cillianmurphyfanatic

@kpopgirlbtssvt

@mrsarnasdelicious

@justlulu

@rangerelik

@babayaga67

@kmhappybunny240

@babaohhhriley

@literishdegree99

@padfootdaredmetoo

@smailaway

@aesthetic0cherryblossom

@allie131313

@xiluvfictional-men

@mrs-bellingham

@duckybird101

@writers-hes

@neonpurplestars89-blog

[petit-etoile]

Oh oh I have an AU I haven't had the chance to write anything for. It's pre-vampirism magistrate Astarion and criminal tav who is incredibly well-versed in law. They keep committing crimes and getting caught in purpose just to see Astarion who fucking hates their guts because he can't ever convict them of anything bc they find loopholes and somehow manage to evade the law. It's an "at each other's throats" kinda romance and they kiss with teeth between cases

darling,  if  you  love  me  say  it  back

pairing  .  ⊱   astarion x tav wordcount  .  ⊱   3,604 content warnings  .  ⊱  canon compliant temporary character death,  tav isn't a human but can be whatever else you like,  astarion isn't a vampire yet,   tav is gender neutral other tags  .  ⊱   canon compliant,  canon temporary character death,  introspection,  p.orn without plot,  oral s/ex,  desk s.ex,  inappropriate use of a cravat,  c.reampie archiveofourown  .  ⊱   here.

taglist  .  ⊱  @azrielshadows1nger, @pandimoostuff, @faevi, @microskies, @foreverthemaraudersera, @queenofthespacesquids, @claryvoyantfray, @6doodlaang14, @anne-isnotokay, @itshimbotime, @yeeteth-the-raven, @sessils,@8-opossums, @worryknotdear, @abirdaboxandachippedcup, @ghosts-and-ink, @b4um3pfl4um3, @gunslingerorchid, @hypopxia,  @m0ssytrees, @erysione, @odette-attackattack, @catching-fire-in-the-wind, @ashrio20, @wills-mental-illness, @queenofcarrotflowers-s, @kirahlene be added  .  ⊱   here .

summary  .  ⊱   The Magistrate Judge Astarion Ancunin has a soft spot for you. You like to exploit that fact.

‘I need to see you in my office,’ Astarion hisses  —  and the tips of his ears are so red you think they might catch flame. He grabs you by the elbow roughly and tugs. ‘Now.’

‘Let’s do it, baby,’ you say smugly. ‘I know the law.’

Knowing the law might be an overstatement. You have studied the law for only one purpose, and that purpose you know like the back of your hand. So when Astarion presses you, you don’t argue. You do as the magistrate says and allow yourself to be dragged across the court. He admonishes you like one would get onto a dog who misbehaves. You can’t help but laugh.

It isn’t like Astarion isn’t a super serious magistrate with a focus on criminal prosecution. He wants to nail you for your sins, for your crimes. The only catch is that no matter how amazing Astarion is at his job, you’re simply better. If you’ve stolen something, you’re more than capable of hiding the evidence. If you’ve murdered someone, you know all the best ways to hide a body. It comes naturally.

Astarion is wearing that ever familiar frown as he marches through the elegant halls. It’s a frown that says you’re in trouble and there’s nothing that I can do. But that isn’t necessarily true. Astarion will do anything you ask so long as you ask nicely, and you’ve been getting good at asking nicely lately. He prides himself in training you even if it isn’t that simple. He calls it rehabilitation. You call it sex.

‘You can’t keep doing this, you know,’ Astarion snaps at you. ‘At some point you must give it up!’

He isn’t good at whispering when he’s riled up. He runs his free hand through his curls in anger, pushing them away from his face like his bangs being wild make it hard to think. It makes him more attractive.

‘You don’t mean that,’ you say with a shrug.

‘I do,’ he says, ‘very much mean that.’

You grin. ‘You would miss me,’ you tell him lasciviously, and he groans. ‘I know you would.’

He huffs. ‘The only thing that I would miss is the peace after the headache you’ve given me. It’s as though you aren’t even aware of how vexing you are.’

You laugh, and the fine line of Astarion’s temper snaps. He all but throws you in his office and locks it behind him. He’s annoyed with the way you stagger dramatically to one of the velvet couches before his desk. You lean over the arm and kick your feet up.

‘Does the idea of cuffs around my wrists excite you?’

You look over your shoulder. Astarion clenches his jaw. It must hurt to frown as hard as he is. You pull yourself onto the cushions and sit demurely. You study him. His rigid lines, tense gaze. He comes and sits on the edge of his desk, pressing his forehead into his hands as if that will relieve him of his headache. You’re determined to make it worse.

‘I apologize,’ you say sweetly. ‘I’ll behave from now on.’

‘We both know that you are not capable of behaving,’ Astarion says thinly.

He shouldn’t have said that. You can’t help yourself, but most of the time, Astarion makes it so easy for you to dig into his weaknesses and exploit them. You stare at him with wide, innocent eyes.

‘You should teach me,’ you suggest.

Astarion’s patience snaps. ‘I beg your pardon? Have some decorum, please!’

‘Having decorum is so boring,’ you say, pouting. ‘Life is much more fun when you live freely.’

‘And committing crimes is your definition of living freely?’

‘What is the point of living if not to live?’ you ask. ‘Why confine myself to rules of good or bad when I can choose what makes me happy.’

‘What exactly makes a criminal like you happy?’ Astarion asks bitterly.

You’ve always been possessed by a sense of otherness. You rise from the couch and carefully twist your fingers in his cravat, tangling yourself in him as he has become entangled in you. The Silverymoon lace tickles your skin. You pull Astarion closer and he begrudgingly caves to your strength. Your lips barely brush against his and already you can sense it. The barely contained restraint. The hunger. Astarion longs for you. He’s carefully hidden it beneath the scent of bergamot.

Slowly, you slide him free of what pressures him most. The cravat slides from his neck easily. It excites Astarion. His eyes glitter like you’ve never seen before. Being a magistrate isn’t about caring about the laws he’s vowed to uphold. It’s about power. You give it to him. You hold your wrists together with a wicked grin.

You balance the fabric on your fingers. Astarion swallows. Being proper isn’t really his thing. It’s thrilling to watch as he changes his mind. You annoy him  —  he detests you, wishes you gone. You are the object of all his improper late night dreams.

But as if he’s moving through water, he takes his cravat from your hands. You almost think it’s going to be a rejection. Astarion bundles your wrists together with an expertise that suggests he’s done it before. The binding becomes tight but not too tight and you relish in the way it twists your wrists. He fastens the knot into a pretty bow.

And then he kisses you. He grabs you so roughly by the back of the neck that your teeth slam together, but Astarion sighs so prettily against your mouth you decide you could withstand anything.

It’s a passionate kiss made up of teeth and spit and tongue. Astarion is both pushing you and pulling you. He can’t make up his mind. Does he want you and the stain you’ll bring to his reputation? A magistrate with a weakness for a criminal is such an interesting dynamic, but Astarion is a proud man. You are almost certain he would throw you into harm’s way if a situation ever occurred that deemed it necessary. You would do the same given the chance. This is simply a tryst.

You like to pretend it is, at least. You hate coming across as a romantic. You chase a freedom so exquisite no one will ever understand it, but when Astarion pushes you towards the couch, you don’t complain. You fall across the cushions with ease and catch him as he falls between your thighs.

‘You,’ Astarion accuses hotly, ‘are an irrevocable annoyance I may never be cured of.’

‘You are so very frank in all the ways you despise me,’ you say, moaning softly as he kisses your neck. ‘I think you’re capable of being freed after all.’

‘I am glad to see you are finally aware that it is hate that drives me,’ Astarion murmurs thickly. ‘It repulses me that you think you could possibly be endearing.’

You laugh and Astarion sucks a bruise into your collarbone. He’ll pretend to be aloof and noncommittal to your very presence, but he’s invested. You can feel the weight of his pleasure against your thighs even as he denies his feelings for you. Astarion doesn’t bother with your shirt or his own. He clings to your waist as he finds the lace of your breeches and tugs you free.

Astarion pushes his hand inside of your smallclothes and touches your flushed skin, spreading his fingers so that he can touch every inch your body has to offer. The fervor of the motion is what causes you to gasp. He’s a man on a mission, and he touches you at your core so adoringly it makes the bite of his words all but disappear. He fondles you like he’s never touched your skin before. Your gasp turns to a sultry whine, and he bites your neck like a punishment. You almost think he’s going to admonish you, that he’ll say your silence is worth more. He doesn’t. If anything, the echo of your voice spurns him to go further.

Astarion presses two fingers inside of you and the laughter dies in your chest. He’s trying to rearrange you through a perverse method. If he fucks you good enough, crime’s appeal will turn to dust within your mind. It makes you wonder what it would be like to dote on a magistrate. Would it be enough? Could it be enough? Sinning feels just as sweet.

He curls his fingers against your core and your back arches prettily off the velvet cushions. You bite your bottom lip and try to quell the pining, but then you catch a glimpse of him from beneath your eyelashes. Astarion is watching your every move. His lips are parted. His pupils are dilated. His cheeks have colored at the sound of your voice. He is torn between watching your face for your reactions and glancing down at his hand underneath your breeches. You meet his gaze bravely, chin lifting, and smile.

He adds another just to watch you struggle. The angle, the curve of his wrist, and the situation are enough to make your thighs squeeze together, but Astarion doesn’t let you. He roughly throws himself between your legs so that you can’t, and it’s hot, too hot that you cry weakly. He grins at the sound like he always does, like he always will. It’s his victory this evening. 

But as quickly as Astarion deigned to touch you, he releases you. He stands up and drags you by the wrists, turning his cheek the other way when you try to taste his skin.

‘The prosecutor is ineffectual  —  ’

You snort without meaning to, and Astarion digs his fingers into the swell of your hip. You allow him to maneuver you, bending at the waist while he presses you forward, chest against the chilled wood of his desk. You have to rise on your toes to stand comfortably.

‘Is that what you’re thinking about?’ you ask breathlessly.

‘I’m thinking about the necessary reform,’ Astarion snaps.

You press your cheek into the wood and stare at his door. The prosecutor, the defense. It doesn’t really matter, does it? Astarion is the only one who cares. You’re somewhat glad he does. It means he’s taken your case to interest, and when he presses himself to your lower back, you’re excited. He shoves your breeches to your ankles.

‘Are you going to take me here?’ you murmur. ‘On your desk. Where is your propriety?’

‘You dare speak to me of decency?’ Astarion snorts.

‘The weight of my sins will be forever embedded on your desk,’ you say. ‘You flatter me, your honor.’

‘Do you ever stop talking?’ Astarion asks. You can hear his patience snapping.

‘Well, you’re just so boring,’ you say, laughing. ‘Why don’t you do something that  —  ’

Astarion kneels down behind you and shoves his way between your legs. You shiver when he presses his lips against your core. He mouths at you hungrily. He grunts low in the back of his throat and digs his nails into your thighs. It steals your breath away. He’s so determined to change the very essence of your being that his tongue and mouth searching where his fingers first were makes you go weak in the knees. You whine.

You press your fingers into the dark, rich mahogany of his desk and try to keep focus. You want to taunt him. You want to tease him, but that wanton desire is almost forgotten entirely by the way Astarion feasts upon your flesh. He parts you with his thumbs and groans against your skin and you almost forget who you are. This is what he wanted. He wanted to pull your desires from you and replace them with his own.

You let him. He works you up as easily as anyone can be worked up, his fingers and his mouth exploring every inch of your skin that’s exposed. He goes to slide a finger in curiously, but you twist your hips away. Astarion is all work and no play. He will tease you relentlessly as it suits him, and he will do what interests him. You interest him more than he’s willing to confess. That’s why he works so hard for your pleasure.

When he’s done with you, he kisses the base of your spine soothingly. Your legs tremble beneath you. Astarion smooths his hand across your hip. You glance at him.

‘Perhaps I can fuck some sense into you now,’ Astarion mumbles.

He has the audacity to sound inquisitive. It’s not like it’s possible, but he seems determined enough to try it out regardless of his intuition. His hands are warm against your skin, and the excitement only builds in the pit of your stomach as you feel Astarion’s skin touch yours. You hear his clothes rustle and his breath catch in his throat. You hide a smile against your arm.

When Astarion slides into your core, it’s like a possession. The breath steals from your lungs. His touch is a familiar constant  —  you would recognize him anywhere by scent alone. You cry weakly. Your toes crunch from the angle, but there’s nothing you want more at this moment than to learn to be good.

Astarion hums behind you as well, his fingers digging into your hips as he tries to steady himself. The desk crunches uncomfortably against your belly but it’s a welcome pain. It keeps you focused. You still have the energy to wiggle back against him as his cock slowly pushes in until there is no more room left to explore.

‘Be good,’ he whispers, ‘and I will give you what you deserve.’

What do you deserve exactly?

It’s hard to say. You enjoy your life of crime almost as much as you love the way Astarion bends you over his desk. You’re good at stealing, you’re good at killing, but you’re good at being soft and pliant as well, giving in to that sentimentality that keeps you coming back from more.

At first it was an elaborate game. What could you do to ensure that Magistrate Judge Astarion Ancunin looked your way? He was a noble elf, and your hands were covered in fresh dough from the baker you stole from. There was a curious glint in his eyes when he looked over you, yet somehow the gods had deemed the yeast and honey on your fingers was not honest enough to be proof.

You are smitten. You bounce taller on your toes with every aggressive thrust, arms struggling to support your weight. Astarion fists his fingers into your hair and pulls until your throat is exposed. He wants you to sing for him, so you do. You arch your back and moan loudly. The sounds of it bounce around his little office.

‘You wouldn’t shut up before,’ Astarion says breathlessly, a hoarse laugh.

‘Do something  —  worth talking about  —  ’

Astarions laughs incredulously, but he does fuck you harder for it. He releases your hair without much flourish and focuses on dragging your hips back onto his cock, punching forward so hard you see stars. It’s wonderful, it’s powerful. If Astarion’s entire goal was to make you forsake the world, he’s done a good job of turning your life around. The cravat rubs against your wrists as you try to seek purchase on the desk. Your fingers drag across the polished wood, and you shudder as you clench down around his cock.

You sound so breathless and silly, groaning while he fucks you against his desk. He fills you full until you’re certain you can take no more. You press a hot cheek against the wood and try to catch your breath. You hook a foot around his ankle for support, twisting on his desk. You tuck your arms beneath your chest. You feel as though you’re coming undone. All your years of villainy, and it comes undone by the consistency of Astarion’s presence.

Your arms are stiff from constantly being up, but you’re almost grateful when Astarion pauses. He helps you turn on top of his desk so you’re on your back instead, and even though the edge digs into your lower back, you prefer that to anything else.

You meet Astarion’s gaze. He tells you he hates you, that he wishes you were out of his hair, that he despises you, but the gentleness of his eyes tells you otherwise. He slides back into you with a small moan, and you wrap your legs around his hips to guide him in further.

‘It’s good,’ you gasp. ‘It’s good, you’re good  —  ’

Astarion doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t have to. You can see it clear as day in his eyes. Astarion won’t say he loves you, that in his ardent fervor he seeks you out, but he knows that you know. Why else would fate lead you back together? You reach for his face with your hands, and his eyes flutter closed to avoid the wistfulness. He leans into your touch.

You cry softly as Astarion begins to grind into you again. He helps carry you as he does so. And it feels so good, feels so overwhelming that you briefly consider the fact that he has changed you for the better.

A spirit that slides into your very marrow. Astarion is hauntingly beautiful, and if he is a spider then you are a fly tangled in his web. He calls you a pretty thing and you give into the struggle. You press your wrists against your forehead and strain against his cock, unable to hide from the waves of crashing pleasure.

Astarion finishes inside of you with a low moan. He presses a rough hand against your belly to stabilize himself, and shyly, you touch his wrist with your bound hands just to feel his pulse. As soon as he’s caught his breath, he releases you from your bonds.

You almost miss him when he pulls away from you. He uses one of his hanging cassocks to clean himself with and is kind enough to do the same for you. You’re almost certain that your legs won’t work, so you sit up on his desk to rest and damn his paperwork to the hells. You kick off your breeches from around your ankles and sit, legs crossed, while Astarion tries to fix his reflection in the mirror.

‘You are truly an astute teacher,’ you say casually. ‘The art of lockpicking is all but gone from my mind. Thank you, your honor.’

Astarion snorts and shakes his head, torn between ignoring you and giving into your wiles. He curls his hair back into place and then walks back to you, leaning forward until you’re nose to nose.

You think he won’t kiss you, but then he does. His lips taste like summer oranges and you taste him until it’s the only thing you can think of. He hugs you tenderly. It isn’t the same as when he admonishes you. It makes your chest feel warm. You almost feel weaker for it. Your bite is being taken away.

‘I can’t keep protecting you,’ Astarion says softly against your cheek. ‘You torment me day and night. When I lie down in my sheets, I find myself consumed with worry.’

‘You think about me?’ you tease. ‘In your sprawling manse?’

‘Move in with me,’ he murmurs. ‘Then you can be inferior yet vain inside my sprawling manse.’

Astarion is not there that evening. You try to wait as long as you can without seeming suspicious. There are maids, family members, and their admirers who come inside and out throughout the evening  —  but not Astarion, never Astarion. You wait until the sun sets and fireflies light up the streets of the Upper City but eventually, the malaise of abandonment guides your feet away. You walk the streets aimlessly until a shiver runs down your spine. A chill so violent turns you away from the courthouse.

But in the morning, there’s a fuss. It draws you back into where you left and you can’t help but to lose yourself. Astarion is dead. His mother sobs. The members of the city watch who bear the bad news look equally as morose. Astarin’s father nearly falls to his knees in despair.

When you break into their manse that evening, you look for one thing. You steal a cravat from his wardrobe and tie it around your neck.

Then, you leave Baldur’s Gate.

You aren’t sure where your feet are going to take you.

Part of your yearns for the Underdark. Baldur’s Gate is a cursed city, you decide. You wander back to it after two hundred years of avoiding it like the plague, and not an hour within the city are you spirited away on an adventure you never longed for.

You have changed. You can’t really remember who you were all those years ago, or the hopefulness you might have felt in your chest once. You’re different now. A folk hero. You used to steal from the rich and give to the poor before the mindflayers fed you their parasite and stole that part of you. But you aren’t alone this time. You wander the beach for hours searching for anything that can be of use and pause over a love letter that makes you sob.

It isn’t all bad. You meet a half-elf who scowls as much as she mumbles to herself.

On the other side of the beach, you meet a ghost.

His eyes are different from what you remember. The warmth he once looked upon you with is gone and replaced by unfamiliar sanguine.

[goldenamaranthe-blog]

Hell Pride University 2: Charlie & Vaggie

Charlie: (unlocking the door to her dorm room, her workout clothes are slick with sweat and rain, cheeks flushed, and out of breath) Thanks again for *pant-pant* helping me out with my stamina and *huff-puff* endurance, Vaggie. I appreciate it.

Vaggie: (drops her soaked duffle bag off on the floor) No worries, Char. Thanks for letting me stay over while the storm passes o- (glances at the dorm) -ooooooh....

-The dorm has a queen sized bed, desk, full closet wardrobe, desk, and is twice if not three times larger than the regular dorms. Kitchenette stands in the corner with a personal shower and bathroom. Razzle and Dazzle are passed out in their oversized dog bed that's too big for them both-

Vaggie: ....Charlie.... why is your dorm room so huge?

Charlie: Oh! Uh! (pulls a spare set of sweat pants and hoodie out of her closet and passes it to Vaggie along with a clean towel) You know..... My dad's the dean of the college.

Vaggie: (takes the clothes and towel) .....And.... that gives you a damn near hotel suite for a dorm?

Charlie: (sweating and blushing) Would.... you believe me if I said I was the Hall Director and lived here full-time?

Vaggie: (jaw drops) Don't you need a master's degree for that? .....Wait.... That's a full-time JOB!!!

Charlie: Well... (pokes fingers together) I'm working on my graduate degree... so... my dad may or may not have pulled a few strings to get me the job....

Vaggie: YOU'RE GETTING YOUR MASTERS AND YOU WORK HERE?!?!?!

Charlie: Vaggie, it's not that bad!

Vaggie: I just thought you were late to going to school like me! How old even are you?!

Charlie: (mumbles and looks away bashfully)

Vaggie: What?

Charlie: ......almost thirty.....

Vaggie: THIRTY?!?!?! I'm twenty-four!!!

Charlie: ALMOST!!! ALMOST thirty!!! I still have two months, one week, and three days....

Vaggie: Ay, dios mio! (plasters her head against the dorm door) I'm interested in a woman who could have been my baby sitter....

Charlie: (perks up and eyes sparkle) You're interested in me????

Vaggie: I-I mean... Yeah... But I thought you were MY age!!! YOUNGER even!!! I was starting to feel like a perv because I thought you were eighteen!!!

Charlie: I'm the same person I was dying on the track fifteen minutes ago, Vaggie!

Vaggie: You probably know how to use a VHS player!

Charlie: I mean. I do, but that's beside the point. Also, they're called VCR's.

Vaggie: (flops onto the bed and groans) Clara and Odette are gonna have a field day when they find out.

Charlie: Clara and Odette? Oh! I didn't know you were a Carmine. I had those two come see me in the tutoring center when I worked there as an undergraduate!

Vaggie: ........of course they did.......

[milunalupin]

— seven swans a-swimming

draco malfoy x reader 1.1k words

twelve days of nico-mas masterlist

It was a bitterly cold December night at Hogwarts, snow falling in thick, swirling patterns outside the windows of the Slytherin common room. The crackling of the fire in the hearth was the only sound that could be heard, a small comfort against the deafening silence of the nearly empty castle. Most students had gone home for the holidays, their laughter and chatter replaced by the occasional echo of a ghost passing by.

You sat near the fire, your dark green Slytherin robes curling around you like a second skin as you absentmindedly turned the pages of Swan Lake. The ballet was your escape, your solace—especially now, when every corner of the wizarding world seemed to be on the brink of chaos. The tragedy of Odette, spoke to you in ways you didn’t know how to express. Her longing for freedom, for something beyond her curse, felt all too familiar.

The pages had started to yellow with age, the edges worn from years of use. You loved the elegance, the haunting music that seemed to echo in your mind long after the book was closed. In a way, the story felt like your own—trapped in the world you had been born into, longing for a way out.

You weren't the only one who had stayed behind for the holiday break. Across the room, Draco Malfoy lounged on one of the leather armchairs by the fire, his usual air of arrogance softened slightly. His blonde hair was slightly tousled, and his grey eyes were distant, as if his mind were elsewhere. Perhaps it was because of his father—he had been left behind, too. His mother was likely in hiding, as she often did these days, and the Malfoy family had little choice but to remain out of sight, far from the prying eyes of the Ministry.

You had never been close to Draco, though you'd known him for years. Both of your families were purebloods, both of you raised with certain expectations, but you had never shared more than the occasional glance or passing comment in the halls. But now, with the war encroaching and the holidays dragging on, something had changed between the two of you.

"Still reading that nonsense?" Draco’s voice broke through your thoughts, and you glanced up to find him watching you from his chair. His lips were curled in that half-smirk of his, but there was no malice in his tone—only curiosity.

You raised an eyebrow, surprised by the question. "It’s not ‘nonsense,’ Draco," you said, closing the book slowly and holding it up. "It’s Swan Lake—a ballet." You gave him a wry smile. "You wouldn’t understand."

He snorted lightly, but his eyes lingered on the cover of the book, curious. "And what’s so special about it?"

You shrugged, not sure how to explain. "I don’t know... it’s beautiful in its sadness. The betrayal, desire, good versus evil."

Draco shifted in his seat, clearly not used to such open vulnerability from anyone, let alone from someone he had always considered an acquaintance at best. "Sounds a bit... melodramatic," he said, though there was no real judgment in his voice. "But, I guess everyone needs their distractions these days."

You could tell he wasn’t looking for a deep conversation, but something about the way he spoke made you feel the need to offer him a little more. "I suppose it’s a bit like us, isn’t it? Cursed to live out these roles we’ve been given, hoping for something more, something... free."

His eyes flickered toward you then, his sharp gaze softening for the briefest of moments. For once, there was no biting remark, no sneer—just a kind of understanding.

"Maybe," he murmured. Then, as if to break the tension, he added with a sigh, "I’m bored out of my mind. Do you want to do something ridiculous?"

You raised an eyebrow. "Such as?"

He stood up. "Come on, I’ve got an idea."

Without waiting for your response, Draco strode out of the common room. You followed him, intrigued despite yourself.

The moonlight bathed the Hogwarts grounds in a soft, silver glow, making everything seem ethereal and unreal. The world was silent—only the sound of your footsteps crunching in the snow and the occasional rustle of the trees could be heard.

Draco led you to the frozen lake behind the castle, the thick blanket of snow covering its surface. There, he stopped and turned to face you, a grin creeping onto his lips.

"Ever enchanted snow before?" he asked, his tone full of that familiar challenge.

You raised an eyebrow, trying to suppress a smile. "No. I don’t think that’s in my usual repertoire. Why?"

"Well, you're about to." Draco’s voice held a strange kind of confidence, and before you could ask any more questions, he flicked his wand with a flourish.

The snow on the lake began to stir, moving as though it had a life of its own. Slowly, the snow gathered into shapes, forming seven beautiful swans with long, graceful necks, their wings delicate as they glistened under the moon. You could hardly believe your eyes.

"Impressive," you muttered, your breath catching in your throat.

Draco’s grin widened. "It’s all in the charm. Watch this." He raised his wand again, and with a few muttered words, the snow swans began to flap their wings, lifting off the ground with a soft, almost musical sound. They circled the lake in a graceful, soaring dance, moving as though they were real.

You stared in awe. The swans flew over the ice, their delicate, snow-covered wings shimmering like the finest glass. They moved as though they had a purpose, gliding effortlessly through the night air.

Draco stood beside you, watching with satisfaction as the swans danced in the night sky, their wings catching the pale light of the moon. The whole scene felt like something out of a dream, something impossibly beautiful and tragic all at once.

"They’re like the swans in Swan Lake," you whispered, lost in the moment. "Bound to this world, yet able to break free for just a moment."

Draco looked over at you, his expression unreadable, and for a brief second, you saw something in his eyes that you hadn’t expected. Maybe it was the same longing you had felt all these months—a desire for freedom, for escape, for a life beyond what had been laid out before you.

"Maybe," he said quietly. "Maybe they are."

You stood there together, side by side, watching the snow swans twirl in the moonlight, circling the lake in a display of freedom. The war still loomed over the horizon, the darkness waiting to consume everything in its path. But for that brief, magical moment, you and Draco were caught in something beautiful and untouched by the outside world. You both were allowed to be free.

— taglist ♥︎

@willowlovestheweasleys

[joelmillerisapunk]

Girl Next Door

Neighbor!Joel Miller x F!Reader

Masterlist

Wordcount: 3,646

Summary: Joel finds himself overwhelmed by the desire to possess something that belongs to you, leading him to indulge in a secret fantasy.

~Or~

What Odette dreams about

Warnings: 18+, mentions of Tommy being in jail, underwear/ underwear sniffing kink? Unprotected bathroom bar sex, hair pulling, no physical description of reader minus hair being pullable, oral - m!receiving

Notes: NERVOUS AS ALL HECK TO POST THIS AS MY FIRST FIC IN A MINUTE. didn't know I had this kink until I had a similar dream, so don't look at me, but also, if anyone else likes this, please let's talk so I don't feel weird 😂 thanks as always @saradika-graphics for the divider

Joel is restless as he mindlessly tosses his clothes into the washing machine in the shared laundry room of his apartment complex. He can't stop thinking about the woman he saw moving in across the hall. There's just something about her that captivated him, and he can't shake her from his mind.

As he goes to add the detergent to the machine, he notices a basket of laundry sitting next to his. His eyes scan over the pile of clothes until they land on a pair of lacy panties. A thrill run through him as he realises that they were hers - yours.

The ones he saw when he was watching you move boxes, the ones he watched appear when you bent over and your shirt exposed the small of your back.

And before he can talk himself out of it, he quickly grabs the panties, stuffing them into his pocket. He turns around just in time to see you walking into the laundry room.

"Oh, hey there," you say with a friendly smile. "I didn't realize anyone else was using the machines right now."

Joel feels his face flush with embarrassment as he stutters out a response. "Uh, yeah, was just finishin' up."

You chuckle softly. "Well, don't let me interrupt you. I just need to switch my load over to the dryer."

As you bend down to transfer your clothes, Joel can't help but steal a glance at your body. He feels a stirring in his pants, and he quickly looks away, hoping you don't notice.

When you straighten up, you catch him looking and raise an eyebrow. "Everything okay?"

Joel feels his face grow even hotter. "Uh, yeah, sorry. I just got a little distracted."

You smile knowingly. "Well, I hope it was a good distraction.”

You make small talk as you wait for your laundry to finish, and Joel finds himself even more drawn to you.

As you’re about to leave, you turn to him. "Hey, can I ask you something?"

"Sure, what is it darlin?"

"Well, I seem to have misplaced a pair of my favorite underwear. I was wondering if you might have seen them around here?"

Joel's mind races as he tries to think of a response. He can't very well admit that he had taken them, could he?

"Uh, no, I haven't seen them," he stammers, hoping you don't notice the lie.

You look disappointed. "Oh, well, thanks anyway. I guess I'll just have to buy a new pair." And with that, you're gone. Shortly after, he gathers his things and leaves.

As soon as he’s outside the room, Joel lets out a sigh of relief. The adrenaline rush from stealing your underwear sends shivers down his spine. He can’t believe how easy that was. This is definitely the highest he's ever felt.

But as he walks away, a wave of guilt washes over him. What kind of sick fuck gets off on stealing women's underwear? He knows how wrong it is, but damn if it doesn't turn him on like nothing else ever could.

He walks aimlessly for a while, trying to distract himself from the thoughts in his head. But every time he thinks about those lacy panties clinging to his thigh, he feels his cock throb.

He needs to do something with them. He needs to feel them against his skin, to smell them, to touch them. But what? Should he hide them away in a drawer? Or should he just keep them nearby for whenever the urge struck?

Joel hesitates for a moment before finally making up his mind.

As he walks back into his apartment, he can’t help but imagine what it would be like to feel those panties on his body. The idea of feeling your softness against his skin makes his cock throb even harder.

Joel decides to try and sleep it off. Maybe by morning, the urge would pass, and he would be able to put this whole thing behind him.

He walks toward his bedroom and strips off his clothes before he climbs into bed. But try as he might, sleep eludes him. The urge to grab those panties and explore them with his tongue is too strong to ignore. He continues to shift restlessly in bed until finally giving in to temptation. He reaches down grabbing the soft fabric from his jeans wrapping one hand around his hard cock and using the other hand to bring the fabric up to his nose and inhales deeply.

Joel's hand moves up and down his shaft, stroking with a rhythm that he knows will bring him to climax in no time. He focuses on the sensation of his own hand, the softness of you on the lace, letting out a low moan as he feels himself getting closer to the edge.

But then, just as he's about to come, Joel hesitates. What if you found out? The thought makes him pause, making him wonder if it’s worth the risk. He decides to take a break for now. Throwing the panties to the floor, he lays there for a few moments, trying to catch his breath. But then he can't resist. The urge takes over slowly and then, all at once, crashing over him like a tidal wave about to suffocate him. Joel picks up the panties one more time and brings them close to his face, inhaling deeply.

"Fuck," he mutters under his breath as he licks them slowly, savoring their scent. He runs his tongue over every inch of fabric before finally taking them into his mouth, sucking on them hungrily. "You taste so sweet baby."

He stops to hold the panties in front of his face, admiring their form, admiring the cut and color. He imagines how it would taste if he were to lick your pretty lips and your pretty little clit, imagining how it would taste when he slips his fingers inside you as you’re making a mess all over his face. It almost makes him come right then.

He moans softly as he imagines all the things he would be doing to you once he gets you alone. How you would feel wrapped around his cock, moaning as he pushes into you. His eyes light up as he envisions how you would feel, naked against him, begging and whimpering as he fucks you. He knows the perfect way to drive you insane; torturing you for pleasure before finally plunging into you, making you scream his name, begging daddy for his big cock. He pictures you writhing and crying underneath him as his seed spills all over your soft skin, filling the air with the musky scent of sex.

His fantasy is interrupted, however, as his phone rings, shattering the illusion of the forbidden paradise his imagination created. Joel groans in frustration, reluctantly answering it.

"Ya?" He demands, his voice rough with need and lust, not bothering to ask who it is.

"Hey, big brother. It's me." it was Tommy, and Joel could only guess what this was about. Tommy had seen himself in jail, his fair share these past few years, and Joel was tired of bailing him out.

"Tommy, I swear to god -" Joel starts, ready cuss out his brother and give him the old "I'm gonna kick your ass..." spiel, but Tommy cuts him off.

"I know what you're gonna say. You're gonna kick my ass. But it wasn't my fault this time. The guy had it comin. He was gonna hurt her. I was just tryin' to help. You gotta respect that, Mr. Southern gentleman himself." Tommy says, sounding sincere enough for Joel to believe him. He relaxes slightly. Tommy never did anything particularly bad, but he always manages to get himself in trouble somehow. Even as kids, he was always bailing Tommy out.

Joel rolls his eyes. “That's what you said the last time. I'm gonna kick your damn ass Tommy. I should leave ya in there."

"Alright, alright, look man-"

"What? Make it good, or I'm goin’ back to bed." Joel says impatiently.

"You bail me out this one last time, and I'll buy you the next round'a beer." Tommy bargains.

Joel can't help but laugh at his brother's proposal. "You're really tryin’ to bribe me with beer, huh? Fine, I'll bail you out one last time. But you better not fuck this up, Tommy, you ain’t gettin' another chance." Joel warns.

"Thanks, Joel. I won't let you down this time, I promise - promise on our mamma," Tommy replies, sounding genuinely grateful.

Joel sighs and hangs up the phone, shaking his head. He can't believe he was letting his brother talk him into this again.

But as he gets dressed and heads out to bail his brother out of jail, Joel can’t shake off the feeling of excitement that still lingers from his earlier encounter. The memory of those lacy panties, the scent of you on his fingers, the taste of you on his tongue - all of it is still fresh in his mind.

As he drives, Joel's mind starts to wander. He can't stop thinking about you, about the way you probably look in those silky panties, the way you feel and taste. He feels himself getting hard again just thinking about it. There’s something about you that draws him in, something that makes him want to possess you, to make you his own.

With one hand on the wheel, his free hand pulls out the underwear from his pocket, his hand shaking with desire as he holds the lacy panties up.

He lets out a low moan, his cock already rock hard in his pants and without thinking, he begins to rub himself through the fabric, imagining it’s your hand on him instead.

The sensation is overwhelming, and Joel can feel himself on the brink of climax almost immediately. He tries to hold back to savor the moment, but it’s no use. Within seconds, he’s coming hard, staining his jeans with his own release.

Panicked, he starts feeling around his truck for something to cover up the stain on his pants. He rummages through the glove compartment and the back seat before finally finding an old sweater that Tommy had left behind on a previous visit.

Joel quickly places the sweater over his bulge, hoping it would be enough to hide the stain.

When he arrives, he parks in the loading zone and jumps out of the truck, still trying to act casual while tying the sweater around his waist. But as he approaches the entrance, he can feel the eyes of the other visitors coming in on him, no doubt noticing the bulge in his pants and the sweater tied around his waist.

As he walks into the jail, his face flushes with embarrassment, and his mind still preoccupies with thoughts of you. He makes his way to the visitor's area, scanning the crowd for Tommy.

When he finally spots his brother sitting at a visitors table, looking bored and impatient, Joel approaches him, trying to act as casual as possible.

"Hey, Tommy," Joel says, as he sits across from him.

Tommy looks up and does a double-take when he sees the sweater tied around Joel's waist. "What the hell happened to you?" Tommy asks, with a smirk on his face.

Joel feels his face grow even hotter with embarrassment. "Nothin’, just spilled some coffee on my pants.”

Tommy raises an eyebrow, clearly not convinced.

Joel shifts uncomfortably in his seat, trying to discreetly adjust the sweater tied around his waist. He can feel Tommy's eyes on him, still skeptical about the "coffee" stain.

"Sure thing, big brother. Whatever you say," Tommy says, chuckling to himself.

—

Joel and Tommy walk out of the jail, the weight of the situation heavy between them but still Joel can't help but feel a sense of relief wash over him as they step out into the cool night air. He had done his duty as an older brother once again, bailing Tommy out of a sticky situation.

As they make their way to Joel's truck, he can’t shake off the thoughts of you that have been consuming him all day. He wants you, needs you, in a way that he has never felt before.

Tommy notices Joel's distracted state and ribbs him about it. "Hey man, you got a girl on the brain or somethin’? You've been acting weird since you got here."

Joel hesitates for a moment, as much of a dumbass his kid brother is, he’s really all he’s got, "Uh - yeah, there’s this girl... Can't stop thinkin’ about her."

Tommy chuckles. "Well, maybe you should ask her out or somethin’. What's the worst that could happen?"

Joel shakes his head. "It's not that simple. I... I don't even know her name."

Tommy raises an eyebrow. "Well, where’d you meet her?"

Joel hesitates for a moment before admitting the truth. "I saw her move the other day across the way. I couldn't take my eyes off of her. Just sat there starin’ for a bit, I just couldn't help myself.”

"Well, maybe you'll run into her again sometime. And this time, you can introduce yourself like a normal person."

Joel nods, feeling a glimmer of hope. Maybe Tommy was right. Maybe he would run into you again. And this time, he could do things differently.

—

The next evening, Joel finds himself at the bar down the street, hoping against hope that he might see you again, somewhere, somehow. He sits at the bar, nursing a beer and scanning the crowd for any sign of you.

As he sits there, he can't help but feel a sense of déjà vu. Has he been here before? It was like a fog had settled over his memory, making it difficult to recall the details.

And then, just as he's about to give up hope, he sees you walking towards the bar, your eyes scanning the crowd. And then, as if by some miracle, they land on him.

You smile, a shy, tentative smile that makes Joel's heart race. Joel can't help but feel a wave of nervousness wash over him as he sees you approaching him at the bar.

He's always been awkward around women, especially ones as beautiful as you. He tries to play it cool, taking a sip of his beer and glancing up at the TV, but his eyes keep flicking back to you.

"Hey there, cowboy," you say, a playful smile on your lips. "I haven't seen you around here before."

Joel feels a wave of nervousness wash over him, but he tries to hide it with a grin. "Oh, I'm just passin' through," he says, hoping he doesn't sound as awkward as he feels.

But you seem to be enjoying his discomfort, your eyes sparkling with amusement. "Well, I'm glad you stopped by."

You lean against the bar, your body close to Joel's. He can feel the heat radiating off of you, and he finds himself struggling to focus on anything but you.

"So, cowboy, tell me what really brings you to this little dive bar?" You ask, your voice low and sultry.

Joel takes a deep breath, trying to calm his nerves. "Just needed a break from the rodeo, I guess," he says, trying to play along.

You laugh, a loud, genuine laugh that makes Joel's heart skip a beat. "Well, I'm glad you found it. Maybe we can make each other's night a little more interesting."

Joel feels a thrill run through him at your words. He knows what you're suggesting, and he can't help but feel a surge of desire. "I'd like that darlin."

You lean in closer, your lips brushing against Joel's ear. "Follow me."

Joel follows you through the crowded bar, his heart racing with excitement. He can't believe what's happening, but he doesn't want it to stop.

You lead him to the bathroom, pushing open the door and pulling him inside. The room is small and dimly lit, but Joel can see the desire shining in your eyes.

You push him up against the wall, your body presses against his. Joel can feel your breath hot against his skin, and he finds himself struggling to breathe.

"I've wanted you since the moment I saw you."

Joel feels a surge of desire run through him. He's wanted you just as badly, and he can't believe this is finally happening. He reaches out, his hands tangling in your hair as he pulls you closer. Your lips meet in a passionate kiss, your tongues dancing together as you explore each other's mouths.

Joel's hands move down your body, sliding under your skirt and finding their way to your panties. He can feel the heat radiating off of you, and he knows you want him just as badly as he wants you.

He slides your panties down your legs, his fingers lingering for a moment before he lets them fall to the floor.

You break the kiss, your breath hot and heavy. "Take me."

Joel doesn't need to be told twicn.sbb

De. He helps you up onto the sink and your legs wrap around his waist as he slides inside of you.

You moan with pleasure, your head thrown back as Joel thrusts into you. The bathroom is small and cramped, but neither of you care. All that matters is the heat and the pleasure between you.

Joel can feel himself getting close, the pleasure building up inside of him. He knows he won't be able to hold back for much longer.

But just as he's about to reach his climax, you pull away, your body sliding down his.

"Not yet, cowboy," you say, a playful smile on your lips.

Joel watches as you sink to your knees in front of him, your eyes never leaving his. He feels a surge rush through him as you reach for his hard cock, you wrap your hand around it, stroking him slowly. Joel lets out a low moan as he feels your hand on him, the sensation almost too much to bear.

You lean in closer, your breath hot against his skin. He can feel your lips brushing against the tip of his cock, and he holds his breath in anticipation.

And then, finally, you take him into your mouth. Joel lets out another moan as he feels your lips around him, your tongue swirling around his cock. His thoughts are consumed with desire as he watches you pleasure him.

He reaches down, tangling his fingers in your hair as he begins to thrust his hips, fucking your mouth with a roughness that takes you by surprise. You moan around his cock, the vibrations sending shivers down his spine. He can't believe how good it feels and how much he wants you.

He feels himself teetering on the edge, and he knows he's about to come. He pulls out of your mouth, your saliva glistening on his cock.

Without a word, he pulls you up and turns you around, bending you over the sink. He can see your face in the mirror, your eyes wide with desire and anticipation.

He slides inside of you, your wetness coating his cock as he begins to thrust. He can feel you clenching around him, your body trembling. Joel reaches around, his fingers finding your clit. He begins to rub slow circles, hearing you moan with pleasure as he hits the right spot.

He knows he won't be able to hold back much longer, and with one final thrust, he spills his seed deep inside of you, filling you up as you moan with pleasure.

Joel watches in the mirror as you come with him, your face flushed with pleasure, and your eyes glazed over with desire. He can't believe what just happened, but he knows one thing for sure - he needs more of you.

He pulls out of you and helps you to your feet. You lean into him, your body trembling with pleasure.

"Wow," you say, your voice barely above a whisper.

Joel chuckles, feeling a sense of satisfaction wash over him. "Yeah, wow," he says, pulling you close for a kiss.

He helps you straighten your clothes, his fingers lingering on your skin for a moment before he pulls away.

You reach down, picking up your panties from the floor. You hold them out to Joel, a mischievous glint in your eyes.

"A souvenir," you wink.

Joel takes the panties, his heart racing with excitement.

You lean in, your fingers putting a pre-written note in his pocket, and your lips brush against his ear. "Call me, cowboy," you say, your voice low and sultry.

And then you're gone, leaving Joel alone in the bathroom with nothing but the memory of your body and the scent of your panties to remind him of what just happened. He can't believe what just happened, but he knows one thing for sure - he's never felt this alive before.

[tikitania]

Did anyone see the Paris Opera Ballet’s Swan Lake on IMAX this weekend?

Nureyev’s libretto….lots to unpack. Rothbart is such a central character in this version pulling the narrative strings in overt and dark ways both inside the court and on the mystical lake. He’s not just evil wizard who has trapped Odette, he’s a dark force within the very halls of power who seems to have everyone hoodwinked — this fully registers with me after the recent US election.

It seems the capture of Odette and turning her into a swan was some sort of long game to destroy Siegfried, who stands in the way of power. But Rothbart also seems to have some masochistic, sexual feelings for the young prince, too. The homoeroticism was off the charts — I’ve never seen the crossbow gifted to the price so seductively! One interpretation could be that this version of Swan Lake is about doomed sexual longing because it’s Siegfried who dies in the end. Odette is forever trapped as a swan, and Rothbart’s dominance is complete.

In the sequel, Rothbart marries the Queen and rules with total power because she’s lost in grief after the death of her only son. Odile is his mistress. But the Prince’s Friends with the help of the swans come to the rescue and defeat Rothbart, returning the balance of power of good over evil. You’re welcome!

Park delightfully surprised me. I had never seen her dance before beyond short clips online. She exceeded my expectations, especially as Odile. Marque is really exquisite. He’s an expressive dancer with beautiful jumps and soft landings. But Pablo Lagasa, as Rothbart, stole the show with his technical prowess and smoldering deep-set eyes.

Seeing this in IMAX is incredible. Would love more of these, please! Love the bird’s eye views of the corps….I don’t care for a lot of Nureyev’s choreographic choices, but I did love seeing the corps formations, especially in Act 3. Normally, I like the set design and costumes at the POB, but the Easter egg hues for the court scenes didn’t work for me. The fuchsia gowns for the brides with those tiny fans were downright garish.

[thesharkwhalewhoohooooo]

Bridet x fem! Oc

“Your mommy is going away for a while my little teacup, so don’t fret it.” Red nodded, holding onto her mother’s dress as the woman walked through the halls.

“Have you picked out an outfit yet? Your grandparents are coming over soon!” Red’s eyes widened, looking up at her mother with an open jaw.

“Gramma’s coming?! I haven’t picked out an outfit yet?!” She started dragging her mother to her room, Bridget followed her with an amused smile.

“You’ll look wonderful in anything my heart, please don’t think too much!” She chuckled as Red started rummaging through her closet with haste.

“Will Mama be there?” Bridget’s chuckles disappeared, and she looked down at her hands with a small frown.

“No sweets, she’ll be away for a long while…” the queen trialed off, staring blankly at the floor as she recalled her own desperate attempts to search for her wife.

“Oh… well she’ll be back soon! She can’t leave us for more than a few days!” Red’s giggles filled the room, and Bridget was painfully reminded to the fact that her wife wasn’t going to be able to get back anytime soon.

“Of course she’ll be sweets, now show me what you’re going to wear!”

-

“So, now that Odette has left, any suitors?” Her mother asked, arching a brow at her daughter whose hands stilled.

“Mom, you know why she’s not here, can we not do this in front of Red?” Red looked up at her name being called, happily skipping over to her mom with a bright grin.

“Gramps favourite is this one!” She proudly showed one of her drawings, and the Queen patted her head with a smile.

“Of course it is! Anything you make should be in the museum!” Red grinned even wider and ran back to her grandfather, Bridget turning back to her mother.

“You know she’s incapable of returning any time soon, so why do you think i’ll remarry?” Her mother shrugged, taking a sip of her wine and twirling it lazily.

“Purely because i’m worried, maybe she just left because she didn’t want to be here anymore? She has another kingdom to take care of, you know that.” Her grip on her cutlery tightened, eyes narrowing at her predecessor.

“Mom, i’m not replacing Odette, just because that man has captured her doesn’t mean our marriage is annulled.” The elder woman arched a brow.

“Then why isn’t she back yet? True love breaks all bounds, even the strongest curses placed upon them, so why isn’t she here? It’s time to look for another suitor sweetheart.” Bridget gritted her teeth, glaring at her mother.

“No. It’s the true love’s kiss that voids any magic, now get out of my castle before i’ll do something I won’t regret.” The woman scoffed, sipping her wine as she looked at her daughter sceptically.

“Really? You? The sweetest Queen of Hearts in history? I don’t believe it. Besides, we’re here for our granddaughter.” Bridget stood up, placing her cutlery down and staring down at the former queen.

“Guards! Off with her head!” The guards were startled, they were never called upon for something other than to go get Red off of somewhere the queen couldn’t reach, or to go get something akin to flowers or sweets.

They hesitated, glancing at one another before rushing to take the baffled elder from the dining hall.

Her father rushed up to her, eyes wide as he looked at his wife being dragged away.

“What have you done Bridget? We didn’t raise you like this-!”

“Well, she was talking about me forgetting about Odette, so, if you think alike…?” Her father took a step back, staring at her horrified.

“We didn’t raise you like this.” He repeated, hurrying out of the room, Red standing next to her mother and staring with wide eyes.

“What does off with your head mean mom?” The queen looked down at the 7 year old, sighing as she picked her up and booped her nose.

“Something very bad, you mustn’t say it!”

-

“Day… what was it?” Red flipped the page ti her diary, checking the former day. “Day 362, it’s almost been 10 years since the first execution, and it’s the same day my mother was declared missing, well, to the kingdom, not to me.” She scribbled down, muttering the words to herself as she laid on her heart shaped bed.

“I remember showing my drawing to my gramps, then all of a sudden, the queen shot up and ordered for grams to be executed, then she told me her iconic phrase was a ‘bad word’. Why has she been saying it non stop then?” She rolled her eyes at the irony.

“My mom’s supposed ‘trip’ has not ended yet, but i’ve heard from some older maids that she won’t come back ever, and that some old creep placed a curse on her… Doesn’t a true love’s kiss break all that? I mean do we even know where she is?! I know she’s at some guy’s castle, I think he’s called Rothbart? And that he’s the mage that cursed her, seems likely, but where is he?! Also, apparently my mother was the sole heir to the kingdom of king William, but now that she’s gone indefinitely, it’s gone to king Derek for safekeeping, who is apparently a douche, but there are rumours that he’s a changed man after his wife gave birth to a daughter, so that’s that, maybe he’ll find mom?” She placed her pen down on the notebook, rolling her eyes at the thought before she closed it and slid it under her bed, sitting up.

“Breakfast!” One of the maids knocked on her door, and Red rushed out, grinning at the woman, who gave her an unimpressed look.

“It’s 4 in the afternoon princess, this isn’t breakfast.” She held the tray, handing it over to the princess who smirked.

“Breakfast is a condept.”

“It is not a concept majesty, definitely not. Your tutoring with Maddox has been cancelled, one of his inventions exploded once again.” Red frowned, she’ll have to check on him, before grinning at the woman and going back into her room.

“Breakfast is a concept.” She grumbled, plopping back down on her bed and pulling off her shirt, that she had only put on for formality.

“It’s not like it’s that late.” She glanced at the clock that had 12 pointers, all pointing in different directions, but never all spread out evenly.

“Okay so it is 4, but who cares man!” She whined, falling back onto her back and closing her eyes.

“Mh, I should go spook some guards.” She quickly changed, rolling up the carpet in her bathroom a bit, and jumping into the hole it opened up, she placed the carpet back down, which had a stone on it so you wouldn’t fall through.

She navigated the lowly lit up halls as if it was her second home, which, in a way, it was, before she got to the guard’s canteen.

The few painting that there were in that huge room, one of them had the halls behind it, and Red slightly cracked it open to try hear how many there were.

She used her magic to light a firecracker, throwing it as far as she could through the small gap, then quickly throwing a smoke bomb after.

Slipping in and out of the canteen was easy, especially since it was all chaos now, and she quickly made her way to the Royal Portrait Hall, where the only picture of her mother hung.

“Wowza, there’s another painting of her?” Red stopped in her tracks when she spotted a tiny painting in the midst of all the others, she quickly pocketed it and made her way to the big portrait of the Queen and the Queen’s consort.

“Hey mama, wanna guess who got beheaded today? The guards were all over it! Jack of diamonds! He was the captain of the East wing, mom’s quarters, she was really mad when something vandalised the wall of her rose garden… even though I’d say i’m a pretty good artist.” She placed her fingers to her lips as if to say ‘keep it between us’, as she stared up at the blonde woman, standing behind the Queen, both smiling as they looked at her.

“Does your curse have a time limit? Why can’t you come home?” She looked down at the ground, kicking at nothing in particular.

“I snatched a painting of yours off of the wall, d’you think she’ll mind?” She showed the tiny portrait, which was of Odette, sitting at a huge lake at night.

“It’s a really good painting, I heard from Maddox that you like to wander around at night, I do the same! But we probably don’t do the same things on these walks…” Red trialed off, staring at the face of a Mother she once knew.

“I hope Mom’ll turn back into herself once you return, I don’t think she’ll have all that many subjects left to kill off soon. It’s been almost 10 years… seems like a good way to dramatically reappear, right? Also, apparently you’ve been kidnapped by Rothbart?? Who is that loser.”

The Queen of Hearts stared at her daughter as she talked to the portrait of her and her wife, silently standing at the end of the hall with her hands in front of her, listening intently.

She quickly left soon after, going back to her study where she grabbed her phone and dialed to king Derek, who answered after the third ring.

“Bridget? You never call, what’s up?” The man certainly had matured and stopped being a dick, but unfortunately for him, Bridget wasn’t all that sweet anymore.

“Check up on Rothbart, he had Odette, you know she’s cursed, so look at the animals, furniture, anything, anything that moves or acts human.” Derek sighed, he had already done it once.

“Sure… but i’ll have to do it tonight, because my girl’s 14th is tomorrow, and I have to prepare her gift.” Bridget rolled her eyes.

“Of course, put haste to it will you.”

-

Derek arrived at the tower a few hours later, a bit before midnight.

The path he walked took him past a lake, where the same swan as all those years ago raced up to him, flapping its wings.

He sighed, crouching by the lake as he watched the swan with a smile.

“Y’know, you remind me of someone…” he trialed off, eyes widening when water covered the swan.

The water grew, and eventually splashed off of the woman, who quickly walked up to land and fell into his arms, hugging him tightly.

“Derek, please, take me back to Bridget right now, we only have a few hours before the sun comes up.” She looked down at the turtle and the frog by her feet, quickly picking them up and staring at the man with wide, hurrying eyes.

“Uh- right! Come on!” They ran, Odette was slower because she wasn’t used to it anymore, holding up her white dress, her blonde hair longer than before, which was expected by 10 years of absence.

“Why do we have to hurry?” Derek asked as they both sat on his horse, hurrying towards the rabbit hole he had in his kingdom, which also wasn’t apart of Auradon, as well as William’s kingdom.

“Well I don’t think that Bridget wants our first kiss back together to be with a swan, now does she?” Derek quickly nodded, spurring his dearest horse on further.

“Call Bridget, so she won’t stop us when entering.” He handed his phone to her, and she stared at it for a while.

“Derek. I wasn’t around for 10 years, the last thing I remember was the landline.” The man pursed his lips, right, he forgot.

“Riighhhtt, i’ll dial, have I told you about my daughter? She’s the cutest, she looks so much like my wife!” Odette rolled her eyes, shoving the phone back to him.

“Derek, dial Bridget for god’s sake.”

“…right, you don’t want to hear about my daughter-?

“Later Derek, later.”

“Bridget? Hi! Yeah, so, you were right.”

“Of course I am, about what?”

“I found Odette, she was cursed to be a swan, she’s human now! But until the sun comes up..?” He trialed off, unsure of his words as Bridget yelled at him to elaborate.

He quickly handed the phone off to Odette, who chuckled.

Bridget fell silent at the sound, almost chocking on air.

“Hi my Baker, how are you?” Bridget felt like crying, even though she was sitting in her bed and Derek called at an ungodly hour, again.

“You’re real?”

“I hope so sweetheart, now if you could maybe wait on me at the rabbit hole? Or you’ll have to kiss a swan… not the best experience, but it’ll even out the score.” Odette shrugged, the forest next to Derek’s castle coming in sight, the sun would be coming up in a few hours.

“Oh! Uh- yes! Yes i’ll be there in a second!” Bridget rushed to get up and get dressed, running through the castle to get to the first vehicle she saw, her trusted truck.

She quickly stepped in and stepped on the gas, screeching through the wonderlandian streets, the famed Red Runner watching her go with a frown.

“Uh… what the fuck??” Red narrowed her eyes as she saw the headlights slowly leave her sight.

She quickly followed, grabbing her bike and turning on the ignition, racing after the Queen.

-

“Odette!” Bridget embraced her tightly, Odette smiled as she placed her chin on Bridget’s.

“Hi sweetheart, good morning.” Bridget smiled into her neck, leaning back a bit to stare at her wife.

“You’re back…” she trialed off, eyes wide with tears.

“I’m back, so, what horrifying things have you done in my absence? Derek filled me in.” She pointed behind her at the man, who sheepishly waved when the Queen glared at him.

“Shut up! You have until the sun comes up right? Well we should hurry up!” Odette looked through the dense woods, seeing a bright light approaching, so she quickly pressed her lips against Bridget’s.

Even though it was supposed to be a quick peck, it soon turned into a slow, passionate kiss filled with their due love for one another, lost nights returning with more to find.

“Mama!” Odette parted from Bridget, looking up at the girl who jumped off of a motorcycle and let it slide through the bright yellow grass, the trees around them slowly lighting up in purple and pink as the dawn soon approached.

“Red?” The girl had tears in her eyes as she buried her face into her mom’s chest, almost crunching her in the hug.

“Well you’ve certainly grown.” The princess grinned against her collarbone, gripping onto her dress as if she was going to disappear.

“So you’re not awake at 3 but you’re awake at 5?” Bridget frowned, staring at her daughter who glanced at her but looked away in favour of clinging to her mom.

“Well, everyone has their priorities?” Derek piped up, and Odette rolled her eyes.

“Derek, go get the gift for your daughter ready.”

“So you were listening!”

-

“And so mom started beheading people! Also she chased Cheshire away and maddened the mad hatter even more.” She threw in the last sentence, and Odette’s eyes widened.

“Well it’s good to be back… is the jack of Diamonds still here at least? He was my favourite- don’t tell me.” Odette closed her eyes when she saw Red grimace.

“Yesterday morning, someone vandalised a wall of the castle-.”

“You mean you vandalised a wall of the castle.” Red rolled her eyes and fell back on the couch.

“Details! Details…” she waved it off, and Odette looked around.

“Very dark decor, not very Bridget-y. You remember Chloe? She’d love to meet you.” Red tilted her head, trying to remember the girl.

“Charming?”

“Yeah, you two were bickering the whole time you two had play dates, it was humorous.” The princess groaned, closing her eyes.

“Wait- did you two-?” Red came to an unsettling revelation once she had thought for a bit too long, gesturing at Odette and Bridget, who had just entered.

“No, we did not.” Odette rolled her eyes at the insinuation, and Red sighed in relief.

“Hello darling.” Bridget smiled as she approached, Red slightly creeped out by it.

“Good morning my love, Red was just filling me in on every atrocity you’ve committed.” The queen sighed as she sat down ‘next’ to Odette, more like in her lap.

“Well, I suppose I can only try excusing myself from that.” Red scoffed, indicating that it’ll be a difficult task.

“Maybe annul some of your ridiculous rules and curfews.”

“Curfews? Well, I thought you were the one that said that curfews were suggestions?” The queen looked away from Red’s piercing eyes, pulling out a letter.

“It’s an invitation, to attent Auradon Prep.”

“Well, since you’ve grown a heart, I think you’ll let me go?”

-

“Derek.” Odette sighed when the man came up to her at Auradon Prep, brightly smiling as he pointed at his eldest daughter, who was also 17.

“Look at her! Isn’t she the prettiest girl here?” He looked at Odette, who merely shook her head.

“No, that’s my girls, your girls are second.”

“What?! Come here! We’ll fight it out!” He got ready to swing, punching the air in front of Odette.

“Oh wow, how incredibly scary.” She splashed him with water that she saw sitting in a glass, and he gaped at her.

“What?”

“You can manipulate water now?! Oh my god can he curse me too?”

“You want a stalker.” Odette gave him a judging look, crossing her arms.

“Uh… no?”

“Mama! Mama look!” Red pulled at her arm, pointing at the fairies.

“Real fairies…” She trialed off, Odette sighed and placed a hand in front of her eyes.

“Don’t stare Red, it’s unmannered.” Red rolled her eyes, and pushed her hand away.

“Who’s that?” She pointed at the Charming family.

“Don’t point, and that’s Ella and Chloe.”she smiled, quickly jabbing Derek in the ribs before making her way over with Red.

“Ella!” She smiled at the woman, who turned around with wide eyes.

“You’re back! Can I ask what-.”

“Since when do you ask?” Odette smiled at the fellow queen, who sighed at her.

“Of course you’d say that, but what kind of curse were you under?” Chloe looked up at that, eyes wide as she noticed Odette.

“He turned me into a swan, very fitting, but now I have feathers behind my ears and…” She showed her neck and shoulders, stark white feathers going from a thick density to scattered around, then showing off the longer feathers at the back of her ears.

“It’s awful to wash it, but that’s all.” Chloe’s eyes nearly fell out.

“Aunt Odette! You’re back!” Chloe smiled as she hugged her, Odette smiled down at her and patted her back.

“Mhm, i’m back, unfortunately.” She glanced at Derek, who glared at her, knowing she was saying something about him.

“Still up to your antics huh? What did your parents think when they set you two up?”

“Probably not for him to be like a little brother.”

-

“My sweets, put the cards down.” Odette placed a hand on the Queen’s wrist, who was nervously fiddling with the cards, she was so scared that someone would say something about her tyranny.

“Am I boring you two?” Principal Uma called them out, and Odette smiled politely, the octopus arching a brow at the feathers.

“Actually, you are.” Bridget stood up, and Odette sighed at her antics, shrugging at Uma when she cast her a confused glance.

“Mom no!” Red’s voice called out, but Bridget only threw her cards up to turn into bubble hearts, looking at Odette with a smile, and then at Red, her smile broadening.

“I’m so happy that my daughter gets to go to this school, and I hope for nothing more than the best time for all of you.” Odette chuckled, standing up and wrapping an arms around Bridget’s waist, kissing the side of her forehead with a smile.

“Well? Why are you such a statue Red?” Odette looked at her sceptically, she knew that the sudden switch up was weird, but why did she look at her so confused.

Red hugged them, but it felt weird, not like the desperate clinging from a few days ago, but unfamiliar, as if Odette was a stranger invading her privacy, that hurt, she knew that she missed a lot.

“Let’s go talk a bit away Sweets.” She mumbled to Bridget, who quickly nodded and grabbed Red’s wrist, dragging her with as Odette chuckled once more.

She looked over at Chloe with a smile, eyes narrowing when hers followed Red’s departure.

“So, you do have a thing for my daughter, huh?” Chloe looked up at her, clearly caught.

“Who are you?” Odette frowned, now she was really hurt.

“You just hugged me a bit ago, all happy I wasn’t cursed anymore, really?” Her frown deepened, something was up with her daughter and Ella.

“Uh-no! I totally remember you- haha!” Odette sighed dejectedly, staring up at the sky sadly.

“Mh, well, my name is Odette, so, nice to meet you again.”

“Oh my god that’s Odette.”

-

“You’re not our daughter.” Odette spoke up, leaning against the doorframe to her daughter’s new dorm, Bridget freaking out over her words.

“Darling! Don’t say that?! Why would you-.”

“You’re right, i’m not, but I am, i’m from a… alternate universe? Where she’s about to stage a violent coup, and you’re… not her wife and certainly not in my life, probably a fling.” Red sat down on her new bed, kicking her feet and staring at the floor.

“Mh, so not much different.”

“Darling I wasn’t married to you?!”

“Well I mean if her first 7 years of her life were awful too, it must’ve meant that the group Rothbart send after me the day of Castlecoming successfully kidnapped me.” The princess nodded, lying down on the bed with a sigh.

“So time travel?” Odette guessed, and Bridget had taken to holding her hand tightly.

“Mhm.”

-

“Darling, don’t you feel sad that she’s leaving so soon after all this?” Bridget asked, shifting to lay even closer to Odette.

“Of course I do, I wasn’t there for 10 years and now when I am she’s gone, but… well i’m more sad that our Red is gone, she doesn’t remember anything from when I was there, and that hurts the most.” The redhead hummed, staring at their intertwined hands in thought.

“I… feel the same, in a way, I physically was here, but mentally I couldn’t live another day without you, so I checked out for my own sake, somehow I feel like i’ve missed those 10 years too, but now she only knows those 10 years, nothing will make her remember all that time.” Odette stroked her hair, staring up at the ceiling sadly.

“Well, as much as I want for our Red to come back, she won’t, and this Red took her place, so we’ll try help her as much as we can.”

[charliesangel67]

Home with you:

Authors note: I wrote this so much faster than I thought I would. Anyway, just a cute lil drabble based off a Mamma Mia theme bc I just re watched it and forgot how good it was.

Parings- Jensen Ackles x Fem!reader

Word Count- 769

Warnings- Mentions of drinking, nothing else, pure fluff.

“So, when you're near me, darling, can't you hear me? S.O.S.

The love you gave me, nothing else can save me, S.O.S.”

I sang as I moved around the kitchen, swaying my hips to the music and occasionally stirring the soup I had cooking on the stove. I heard a key turn in the lock and turned to see my boyfriend walk into the house, dropping his bags in the hall before coming to give me a hug. I giggled as he held me tight in his warm embrace.

“Oh, Jensen. I've missed you so much,” I said to him when he finally let go. “I missed you too, sweetheart,” he responded, leaving a soft kiss on my lips. “How was Louisiana?” I asked, interested in how the filming went. “Not bad. We did have to put filming off for a day because of storm warnings, and our scenes for the day were supposed to be outside.”

“Oh, that's too bad,” I responded. “I'm gonna go upstairs and take a shower real quick, okay? I'll be back in 10,” Jensen said before leaving a kiss on my cheek and heading upstairs, carrying his bags with him. A couple of minutes later, I had set the table, plated up the soup with bread on the side, and Jensen was coming down the stairs in a black t-shirt and grey sweatpants. Gosh, he looked handsome.

“What's for dinner, sweetheart?” he asked as he got himself a beer from the fridge. “Tomato soup with bread. I don't think beer goes very well with it,” I stated, eyeing him.

“Fine then, I'll have the beer later.” He put up his hands in defeat and I giggled. We talked over dinner about filming, The Boys, and what I did over the 3 weeks that he was away.

“Well, I drove out to Austin to catch up with Maya.” “Oh, really? When was the last time you saw her? Hasn't it been since Gen's baby shower?” Jensen asked, surprised that I had brought her up.

“Yeah, since Odette. I just wanted to hang out with her a little. I stayed over for a couple of nights and we went hiking and shopping. It was fun,” I said, shrugging my shoulders, facing Jensen while he sat at the table sipping his beer. “I'll pack up the dishes. You go have a shower, love,” he announced.

I stepped out of the shower, the fluffy towel feeling soft on my skin. I dressed in my silky blue pjs and dried my hair. When I walked down the stairs to greet Jensen, I saw there was a box on the counter.

“Ooh, what's this?” I asked curiously.

“I ordered some donuts so that we could have a movie night,” Jensen stated from the far side of the kitchen, preparing a big bowl of popcorn.

“I'll grab the drinks and choose the movie!” I yelled as I raced to the fridge to get him a can of soda and myself some wine so I could pour a glass.

“Whatever you please, my love,” Jensen whispered under his breath.“What movie are we watching tonight?” asked Jensen as he entered our bedroom with the popcorn and donuts in hand. He had already changed into his pjs and was looking sexier than ever.

“I have chosen an absolute classic, a personal favorite of mine, and most teenage girls.”

“Oh gosh. Lemme guess: She's the Man or 10 Things I Hate About You?” Jensen questioned.

“No! Although either of those would've been a good option. I have chosen to go with a more musical one. We are watching Mamma Mia!” I announced excitedly.

“OK, I'll pre-warn myself about the crazy singing,” Jensen laughed as he leaned in to kiss my lips.

“I'm just kidding, love. Sing as loud and as crazy as you want. I love your singing,” he whispered in my ear, making me smile.

Together, we belted out every word to "Mamma Mia", danced to "Dancing Queen," and drank a lot of wine. By the end of the movie, I was too dizzy to even walk downstairs, so Jensen took the empty box and bowl to the kitchen, and I went to brush my teeth. I lay in bed, suddenly feeling the bed shift over from Jensen's weight. I turned over to kiss him. “I forgot to tell you earlier, welcome home, babe,” I said before giving him another passionate kiss.

“When you're gone, how can I even try to go on?

When you're gone, though I try, how can I carry on?”

[prettyyoungandbored]

Family - Dr. James Wilson

Pairing: Dr. James Wilson x Fem!OC

Summary: Wilson and Odette get two bad pieces of news…and a new member of the family.

Warnings: Minor angst, fertility struggles, mentions of death

NOT MY PHOTO

Wilson heard the sound of his office door opening and didn’t bother to look away from his paperwork.

“I told you it wouldn’t work,” he said.

“You could say that again.”

He froze. That was not House’s voice and it was unusually stuffy. He looked up to see Odette closing the door behind her. When she turned her head, his heart sunk at her blotchy red and face tear stained.

He shot up from his chair. “Sweetheart-.”

“It was a false positive. Doctor confirmed it.”

Wilson’s heart shattered into a million pieces that trickled down to his stomach. His mouth hung open, words failing him.

Odette shook her head. “If I had taken another test at least I…” her voice trailed off.

Wilson made his way to her, tightly embracing his wife in his arms. She buried her face into his chest as she sobbed.

“I’m so sorry-.”

“For what? You have nothing to be sorry for,” he told her. “You did nothing wrong. These things happens.”

“I could’ve done another test.”

“It could’ve been a faulty test too. It’s not your fault, ok? We were both excited and we just…”

He sighed, pulling her back into his arms. She gave him a squeeze, realizing even in her devastation that he needed to be comforted too.

She shut her eyes tightly, wishing this could be a bad dream. One where she would wake up and be pregnant with the baby she and Wilson wanted.

The process was taking longer than she’d thought and before the positive test, she’d began to wonder if something was wrong with her. If there was…would it ruin their marriage?

“What if I’m broken and I can’t give you kids?”

She didn’t mean for it come out yet she felt no shame. Maybe the conversation needed to happen and this was the moment.

Wilson’s mouth hung open, eyes furrowing. “What if you’re- Odette, you’re not broken. Why would you say something like that?”

“We’ve been at this for a year and a half-.”

“It takes time.”

“What if I can’t give you kids, Wilson? What if I can’t get-.”

“We will figure something out and we will figure it out together. Odette, I’m serious. You will not do this alone.”

He pulled her in for hug, hand cradling the back of her head. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

He pulled back and kissed her forehead, his hand rubbing her lower back soothingly.

“Why don’t I take off early and you and I have a nice dinner out?” he suggested.

“You have consultations and meetings-.”

“Actually I finished all my meetings an hour ago. Besides, I don’t feel comfortable leaving you alone like this.”

She cracked a small smile. “Your boyfriend might kill me.”

“House can live without me for one night. C’mon.”

=================================

Dinner had been the perfect distraction. Wilson knew exactly what she needed to lift her (and his) spirits and it made Odette grateful to have him in her life.

Wilson was pulling into their neighborhood when the couple noticed the blue and red lights flashing outside their apartment complex.

“Why is the police outside our apartment?” Odette asked.

“I have no idea,” Wilson answered as he parked.

Odette’s eyes scanned the scene. “There’d an ambulance here too.”

Wilson shut the car off. “Stay in here.”

Odette watched as he walked over to the cop near the police tape. Her eyes shifted to the body bag being rolled out on a stretcher out of the building.

Her heart sank. Someone had died, but who? She ran through the list of neighbors she knew and thought about the last time she’d seen them.

The tap at the window broke her from her thoughts. She turned to see Wilson standing there. She got out of the car.

“What happened?” she asked.

“Mrs. Johnson passed away,” Wilson said. “Heart attack. Her daughter’s in the apartment now.”

Odette sighed. Mrs. Johnson lived across the hall from them. She was a sweet old woman and a favorite in the building. Wilson and Y/N kept an eye on her when her daughter, Joyce, was unable to see her.

Odette got out of the car and followed Wilson into the apartment complex. The two got into the elevator.

“I feel terrible,” Odette spoke up.

“Sweetheart, she was in her 80s.”

“I know, but still. She was so good to us, you know? Remember when you got called into work on Christmas and she and her family invited me over and they made you a plate?”

Wilson smiled at the memory. “She really made this place feel like home. I remember when we first moved in and she was so adamant about making our first meal here.”

“Her famous lasagna,” Odette remembered with a small smile. “I’m really gonna miss her.”

The doors opened and a couple officer stood in front of Mrs. Johnson’s old door. Joyce stood there, tears falling down her face.

She turned to see Odette and Wilson and excused herself.

“Joyce, I’m so sorry,” Odette said opening up her arms to hug the woman. “She was such a wonderful neighbor and person.”

“I’m sorry you two had to find out this way,” Joyce sniffled. “You both were so kind to her and our family.”

“Is there anything you need?” Wilson asked.

Joyce sighed. “I don’t know what I’m gonna do about Sarah.”

Sarah was Mrs. Johnson’s beloved cat. She was sweet and cuddly, always greeting Odette and Wilson whenever she was in the hallway.

“I can’t take her because my husband’s horribly allergic to cats,” Joyce continued. “Plus, the poor girl needs special medication and-.”

“We’ll take her!” Wilson spoke up.

Odette and Joyce turned their heads to him. Odette’s eyes widened as Joyce lit up.

“You will?” she asked.

“It’s the least we can do,” Wilson said. “We would love to have her.”

=================================

Wilson and Odette sat on the couch as they watched Sarah wander around the living room.

“My next call with my mother should be interesting,” Odette sighed. “No grandbaby, but hey, we adopted a cat.”

Wilson cracked a smile. “We did the right thing though. Poor girl wouldn’t have stood a chance at the shelter.”

Sarah made her way to Odette, rubbing against her leg. Odette stroked the cat with her fingers.

“We did,” Odette smiled. “Besides, she can be our baby while we wait for a human one.”

“I like that idea,” Wilson agreed.

Sarah jumped on the couch, forming a loaf between Wilson and Odette as she reveled in her new family.

[stuff-i-found-while-crying]

A stage of fire and dreams (2)

inspired by @ gwandas and they post: modern Neris AU where Eris is a trust fund asshole at Harvard Law, Nesta is a professional ballerina with the Boston Ballet

Second part! They meet and then they meet some more....

Part 1 - I changed Odette to Giselle because I got confused... but it was meant to be Giselle.

Also! English is my second language and I might accidentally messed it up.... just believe that my writing would be better in German and we can be friends (also not really proof read, because it's just for fun and giggles)

WITHOUT FURTHER ADO! PLEASE ENJOY THE SHOW

main role: Eris (xNesta)

also appearing: his mother, his younger brother, Nesta, her mother, a theater owner

Chapter 2 - red shoes

As glamoures the stage was, as messy was it backstage.

Eris followed his mother who was following Mr. Heartfelt. The man was as colourful as his theater and he was talking constantly while finding his way between costums, exhausted dancers and the smell of sweat.

Cyrus brushed up to Eris and whispered. "Bet I can get ten numbers tonight?"

"Just be back before we leave."

And with that his brother was gone, off to find the chorus girls. Eris did not care. His mind was on one woman.

Giselle.

Or Nesta Archeron, as the dancer was called. Would she be as enchanting as her character?

Suddenly Eris felt a rush of anxiety go through his blood. He pushed his shaking hands down into his pockets and tried for a neutral smile.

"We got lucky to find her", Mr. Heartfelt was babbling. "I already thought we had to go over budget, but then her manager called us and begged for a chance to audicion. And she was brilliant. But do not tell her I said that. She will expect more money if I start praising."

His mother furrowed her eyebrows. "Is the theater in need of money again? I thought with my last donation the budget for the year was almost dubbled."

Mr Heartfelt, realizing his mistake, turned to her and grapped her hands in his. "And it was. You are the most generous patreon we could ever hoped for. But most of the budget was needed for renovations. The Bathrooms, I am sure you noticed the new design."

Eris snorded.

"And we were able to get the most famous director Lucy Sky to come and stay with us for two plays."

Eris watched his mother relax. Her smile returned and he burried his hands deeper in his pockets. The smell of hairspray and sweat, the chatter of the people cleaning up and all the doors to uncertain rooms, he started to feel dizzy. With a small cough he got Mr. Heartfelts attention and raised an eyebrow.

"We are not here, to listen to your budget plan", he said.

"Of course", the man swipped away the sweat on his forhead and continued his way.

"Be nice", his mother said quietly to Eris.

"I am always nice."

She reached for his arm and pulled his hands out of his pocket. "Just a couple of minutes."

He wanted to lie. Anything to get her gaze away. But she saw him. And so he nodded and took a deep breath.

"Where is your brother?"

That lie was easy. She would know the truth anyway.

"Waiting in the car."

At the end of the hall Mr. Heartfelt knocked on a door.

"Nesta? You have visitors."

Eris felt his heart almost burst. His Giselle would open this door.

But it was not Giselle. Although the woman who pulled the door open and almost of it's hinges looked like her, but older. Honey blonde curls and piercing grey eyes starred them down.

"This is Mrs. Aurora Vanserra and her son", Mr. Heartfelt introduced them. "They are esteamed patreons of my theater."

The woman smiled immediatly. "What an honour. Please come in. My daughter will be delighted."

Her daughter did not look delighted. In fact Nesta Archeron looked like an arrow, ready to shoot anyone who got on her nerves.

She was still in costume, her shoes clonking with every step and her long hair swipping around her back. The make up had not survived the performance and the eyeliner was mixed with sweat.

To Eris she looked unhinged like the door almost was.

He loved it.

"Pleased to meet you", she said to his mother.

"Oh my dear", Aurora Vanserra looked like a proud aunt. For a second Eris thought she would hug Nesta, but then she just offered her hand. "You were magnificent. Absolutely perfect. I have never cried so much during Giselle. Eris too."

All eyes on him, Eris coughed. "Your first time dancing in the center?"

Nesta squared up her shoulders. "I am always the center."

Oh, he was in trouble. The grey of her eyes would hunt him for days, he was sure of it. He had never felt drawn to another person. But Nesta Archeron was pulling him in without even trying.

"My daugther has worked hard to be here", Nestas mother put an arm around her daughter. For a second Nesta froze. Then she pressed her lips together and lowered her head. But her mother was squeezing her harder until she lifted her gaze again. "Even as a child she had the graze and determination of a true Ballerina."

"I hope to see you in more plays soon", his mother said.

Before Nesta could open her mouth her mother was already answering. "That depends on Mr. Heartfelt. He has all the power." With a whistful sigh she looked at the man.

"Where did you learn to dance", Eris asked Nesta, just to hear her voice again.

"New York", her mother answered for her again.

"What part of it do you enjoy the most?"

Again her mother answered: "The performances of course."

"Actually", Nesta took a step to the side, finally freeing herself from the clutches around her shoulder. "I like the music the most."

"Performance, music. Isn't that the same?"

Mother and daughter starred each other down.

"It is not." Nesta stock out her chin, provocing her mother to fight infront of them.

Eris wanted to pull her behind him, protect her from the woman who looked at her like she was just a small girl and not the woman who enchanted an entire audience. But something in her gaze held him back. She was not delicate like Giselle. She was not mad. And she would not appreciate him over stepping.

He would have to find a different way to her, to spend time by her side, to her heart.

"It is late", his mother said and smiled. "It was an honour to meet you."

Mrs. Archeron wanted to say something more, probably try to charm his mother, but Eris raised an eyebrow and starred her down. "My brother is waiting", he agreed with her.

"Of course", Mr. Heartfelt looked to Mrs. Archeron. "Might we discuss the further performance plan in my office?"

What a show. Eris was sure that he only said it, because his most beloved Patreon was standing right next ot him.

He needed to get out of here.

He needed to get his mother far away from this woman.

He wanted to take Nesta with him.

They all left Nesta in her dressing room. Mr. Heartfelt took Mrs. Archeron to his office and Eris guided his mother to the car park.

"What a lovely girl", she said. "She will be a famous ballerina one day, i can feel it."

He patted his pockets. "I forgot my phone", he said.

Confused his mother turned to him. Then her eyes softened and she grinned. "Hurry, your brother is waiting."

Eris jogged back down the hall to Nestas dressing room and knocked.

There was shuffeling. Then she opened the door a little and peered out. When she recognized him she huffed. "Did you forget something?"

He smiled at her. "The flowers."

"Obvioulsly."

"And your number."

At that her eyes found his and she opened the door a bit more. He had interupted her in the middle of taking of her shoes. The blood on her toes seeped through her whites tights.

"I dont give my number to strangers."

His heart beat faster. Never had a woman been so stubborn with him. And still he felt more alive than ever. There was a spark in her that he wanted to see grow. He wanted to witness the spark becoming a wild fire and devouring the world.

"Then let me give you my number", he pulled out a business card.

She bit her lower lip. The lipstick blood red and smudged. Eris hadn't known Ballerinas looked more alluring after a performance.

"A lawyer?" she read the card surprised. 

"For Finance and Business", he leaned against the door frame.

She studied the card. "You work for your family?"

"For my father", he nodded.

For a moment they looked at each other and he saw her walls come down.

"Mr. Vanserra", her mother was coming down the hall. Nesta took a step back, her walls back in place.

"Call me", he whispered to Nesta. "For anything."

She said nothing, only pierced him with her eyes.

Eris turned, nodded politely to her mother and then hurried back to the car. On the way out he stumbled into Cyrus.

"Eleven", his brother grinned at him, showing him proudly the numbers saved in his phone. "And you?"

Minus one, Eris thought. But he just pulled his brother out of the theater. "Mother is waiting."

Finally he breathed fresh air. The car ride home was quiet. His mother was humming softly next to him, while his brother was already texting the chorus girls.

Eris closed his eyes. His heart was still beating fast. And it would beat like that by every phone call he got, always in hope Nesta Archeron would call him. It took her three days.

___

Part 3 - Cinderella

as a dancer I love writing realistic backstage/bloody feet :)

[seramilla]

God I love the idea of velvette & Odette bonding, like Velvette starts to see Odette as a female figure that she could go to whenever she feels lost or confused or she just simply needs comfort that only an older sister can give.

Odette has interests in things that Velvette would have never considered interesting back then but now, they are simply fascinating to her. (Hc:) Odette likes to do photography sometimes in her free time. It’s not professional or commercial but it’s something, that she enjoys—and Velvette finds it so fascinating that something so simple could be so enjoyable, yet she finds it comforting and interesting to watch as Odette takes photo’s of the blinding lights of the other cities in the pride ring or the animals in the wrath ring.

It’s something that’s so simple yet— Velvette doesn’t want to give it up, and she doesn’t want to give this dynamic she’s built up with the carmine family.

Velvette has no shortage of women in the Carmine household to go to when she has trouble. If she's tired, or needs a snuggle, Clara or Kiki will fit that bill nicely. If she needs to talk fashion, or run over some ideas in her head, Verosika is only a few texts away, or down the hall in Odette's room. She's not quite comfortable going to Carmilla and Sera yet. The older couple will often seek her out if they sense she needs an ear, but she's not yet brave enough to set those types of interactions in motion on her own.

Odette, until recently, was simply the...other sister. Not that Velvette had disliked her, mind you; she just never knew how to approach the stoic woman without being awkward about it. Odette is the biggest introvert Velvette thinks she's ever met -- she's trying to get better at not saying the wrong thing, which unfortunately leads to her not saying much at all, and giving the wrong impression that Velvette doesn't care for her.

The one thing Velvette can appreciate about her, she thinks, is Odette's eye for little details. That includes the talent she recently discovered the older Carmine sister has, which is photography; a skill she herself can greatly appreciate, because she's always trying to learn how to get better at posing and lighting her subjects in her studio. Things like that take her a lot of time, effort, and hard work; for Odette, it's almost effortless. Velvette can choose the picture-perfect outfit and put it on the picture-perfect model, but posing and lighting a scene perfectly in a matter of seconds? That's all Odette. It isn't long until Velvette's curiosity gets the better of her, and she nonchalantly tries to start a conversation about it with her girlfriend's sister.

Odette doesn't go looking for the perfect subjects, but finds that candid moments of people and creatures just existing in their lives provide the best results for her. She tells Velvette to see more with her mind, than simply trying to create the best artificial setting for her portfolio. Velvette starts doing more outdoor shoots after this advice, and is less demanding that her models always strike specific poses. She starts letting them do what feels natural, to let art imitate life, instead of trying to force it on them.

Velvette values Odette's advice, even if her work will never have the perfect composition that Odette's has. That's fine with her, though; even the little things can vastly improve the canvas of her work, and for that, her outfits have never looked better on her models, and they've never appeared more natural and life-like in her clothes. She might not be able to admit it to anyone else, but perhaps Velvette has more she can learn from the elder Carmine sister than she once thought. It couldn't hurt to find out more, at any rate.

[astoldbyaja]

A Dangerous Attraction (Rush Hour 3)

Summary:

Odette Dubois is a performer at the Gemme Noire Club in Paris who enjoys the life she has made for herself. After having a fun one night stand with Triad Leader, Kenji Takahashi, Odette finds herself thrown into a dark world she cannot escape from, when Kenji decides fate did not bring them together for just a one night stand.

"Kenji you cannot take me from my life and just insert me into yours!" "Why not?" he asked quizzically. "Because it's MY life, you don't own my life!" I snapped. "I may not own it, but I know you're happy with me." he stated. I scoffed. "You don't know what happiness is." I stated. "Don't I make you happy?" he asked. I winced and looked away hating myself for the aching feelings that boiled inside me. "Yes." I muttered lowly. He leans in to me placing his hand over mine. "So then why are you trying to force me to send you away?" he asked softly, confusedly.

Author's Notes

This is just the sexual scene from my actual fic A Dangerous Attraction, may just add only the sex scenes we will see

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

After my makeup was removed and my hair was taken down, I showered in the back locker rooms. I could still hear the music playing from outside. John Coltrane was playing. I smiled and nodded to myself. Tonight was not a bad night. My audience loved me, a newcomer definitely was smiling at me with interest after being sang to by me. I giggled to myself. God, I haven’t touched another man since my husband died.

I often think about getting back out into the dating world, but it’s become involuntarily tainted.

After I was clean, dried off, and lotioned down, I left the locker room in some black flowing slacks and a matching black halter top. I still wanted to look presentable in case I needed to network. Some performers would past me and wish me goodnight while other customers of the club would stop me briefly to tell me how good my singing was.

As I walked down the hall with my purse in hand, smiling and waving at either staff or friendly regulars, a woman rounded the closest corner and stopped me. She was shorter than me, with long wavy tan, brown hair. She was also in a black and red dress with slits down the leg. I noticed the dragon tattoo on her arm.

“Odette Dubois?” she asked with an arch of her brow. I looked her over.

“Depends on who is asking.” I replied. She gave an amused grin.

“My name is Jasmine. You gave a lovely performance. My boss would like to speak with you.” she said. I was honestly not in the mood to anymore to stop and chat. Once you’re given permission to leave early from work you take it. I gave an apologetic wince, and she shook her head. “He is a very important Japanese businessman who will be doing business with your boss. It would not be wise to deny his invitation.”

I tensed now. Jerome was always doing business with high level executives. It’s how he gained a favorable reputation which flowed into the club. I didn’t want to be the reason someone ended up frowning on him. I sighed and shrugged.

“Twist my arm.” I replied, and she smiled victoriously and nodded then turned.

“Come.” She purred before moving calm and collectively down the hall. I was familiar with the direction we were going in. It was toward the lounge which was on the other side of the club. The heavy music and laughter died down. On this side it was calming. Red booths were against the wall with a large bar in the middle. Servers in black were serving their guests. I followed Jasmine over toward a booth in the back noticing she was bringing me over to a familiar man in white. It was the man I sang to earlier.

Now my stomach was fluttering with embarrassment. I hope I did not leave too bad of an impression. The man finally looked at me, his eyes rolling over me as he saw me. Jasmine stood before the booth and bowed.

“Odette Dubois, Kenji Takahashi.” she introduced before walking away. The man moved from the booth and stood before me. His eyes were… dangerous. Something was dark in his orbs, and I couldn’t quite place the feeling that this wasn’t a regular businessman. I gave a curt bow of my head as he held his hand out to me.

“A pleasure to meet the Duchess herself.” he said. I chuckled shyly moving to take his hand. He gently brought the top of my palm to his lips and gave a light kiss.

“Nice to meet you as well Mr. Takahashi.” I replied.

“Please call my Kenji. Sit.” he replied, and I did. I sat across from him wondering what he could possibly want from me. “Can I buy you a drink?”

I really did not want to drink, but I would do what I had to do to make a first good impression.

“Sure, some white Moscato please.” I replied, and he nodded signaling for one of the waiters.

“I must say this is the first time I have ever been in this club. I have done business here for most of my adult life, and never thought to step foot in here.” he said gazing at me now. I slowly nodded.

“This place is quite magical once you have been in here for a while. I assume the future business with my boss is the only reason you stepped foot in here now.” I replied. He nodded.

“You are correct, but this place has made quite a nice first impression on me. I have you to thank for that.” he said. I looked at him stunned.

“Me?” I asked and he nodded.

“You. You are a very talented singer. How long have you worked here?” he asked. I smiled at his compliment.

“Three years.” I replied. He seemed impressed.

“Three years in a place working such late nights. I am sure your husband enjoys coming to watch you perform.” he said. My chest tightened a bit at the thought of Liam.

“My husband passed four years ago.” I replied. He gave a gentle wince.

“I am sorry if I brought up any sad memories. It was not my intent.” he said. The server brought me my, wine and I smiled my thanks at him. I shook my head.

“No, it’s alright. I have made peace with his passing. I hear you’re a businessman. I am sure your family misses you so, when you’re out on trips. Your wife?” I asked, and he shook his head drinking from his glass cup.

“No wife. No kids.” he said. “My job is very complicated. It leaves no room for such niceties.”

I nodded wondering if I should ask what he did. I noticed he was looking at my chest and soon he pointed.

“That is a lovely necklace.” he said. I looked down at my tree of life necklace and smiled warmly.

“Thank you. My father gave it to me before he passed away. The tree of life. It symbolizes so much.” I replied warmly. He winced.

“To lose the two men who are responsible for providing and protecting you is heart breaking. Did he pass in Paris?” he asked. I shook my head.

“No. Los Angeles. He was a detective and was killed in the line of duty. I moved to Paris not long after and started my life here.” I replied. He tilted his head, his eyes showing curiosity.

“Why Paris?” he asked. I grinned.

“I always wanted to visit. My father promised to take me when I was a bit older, but he never got the chance. So, my journey brought me here where I met my husband.” I replied softly drinking some of my wine.

“And now he is gone… it must be very hard for you.” he said. I nodded.

“It used to be. But I found a new family here. Now I am not so alone.” I replied. Why were we having this conversation? I did not want to be the only one seeming vulnerable. “Do you get lonely?”

He inhaled and looked down at the table.

“Very rarely. My job keeps me on my toes quite a lot. A lot of my work is here in Paris.” he said.

“What is it you do specifically?” I asked. He gave a smirk, one that did not sit well in my stomach, but yet still kept me at ease.

“Public relations.” he said. That could mean anything, and when one is being so broad, that could mean he may not be entirely innocent. I nodded.

“Sounds very exciting.” I replied drinking my wine.

“It is.” he said before motioning his head at me, meaning my back. “Your tattoos… crows?” I shook my head.

“Ravens. When my father passed, I wanted to feel… something, anything, pain that was worse than the emptiness I felt when he died.” I replied before looking away now and then back at him noticing how deeply he was gazing at me.

“Why ravens?” he asked. I grinned.

“I was into Edgar Allen Poe in high school.” I replied. He gave a gentle chuckle, and I returned it before gently shaking my head. “Why are we having this conversation Kenji?”

He nodded eyeing me with a deep gaze.

“You are a beautiful girl, Odette. Your voice captivated me tonight. One might say I am… attracted to you, very attracted you.” he said lowly. I felt my heart quicken with mild excitement. Kenji was a very handsome man, and I found myself quickly flattered by his words.

“Why thank you Kenji, you definitely stood out to me in a crowd.” I replied. He grinned.

“Is that why you chose to single me out?” he asked. I grinned finishing my drink.

“Maybe. You’re a new face. I wanted to make you feel welcome here.” I replied with a bit of a softer tone. I could tell he caught the shift in my tone by the way he tilted his head.

“I feel welcomed… if I may be so bold Odette, could I have your company tonight?” he asked. I stared at him for a moment wondering if he was serious, but his eyes definitely screamed serious. I looked up toward the exit of the lounge before looking back at him.

“How close are you?” I suddenly asked.

Our exit was calm as he paid, then he walked us from the club. He pointed to the very large hotel across the street. This guy had to have money because that hotel is very glamorous. Only the celebrities of both the upper and underworlds rented here. We entered the beautiful lobby and moved over toward the elevators.

The moment the elevator doors slid open; Kenji held his arm open letting me go in. I smiled and entered in, and he followed. Each wall was a golden mirror and, so now all we saw were reflections. We stood side by side and Kenji pushed the tenth floor. No one else was getting on, the doors were sliding closed slowly. In unison we just looked at each other, and Kenji was on me in seconds, taking my chin and smashing his lips against me hard.

I felt my entire body just ignite from both shock and excitement. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him into me, our mouths opening and tongues darting out to meet the other.

Frozen by Madonna was playing through the ceiling radio above. Fuck this made everything just feel ten times better. Kenji’s lips were fighting my own for control, his calloused hands moving all over my back. Who knew I still had it in me to be spontaneous. I needed to breathe and leaned back just inches from his lips as he made a gentle chomping motion at me not wanting my lips away from him.

He smiled as he pressed his forehead to me. I smiled back giving his lips a quick lick. He growled and raised me up by my bottom and pressed me into the closest wall, his lips now kissing down my jaw and into my neck. I felt my hands roaming his back. I could feel the firmness of his back and the broadness of his shoulders.

His forest scented cologne washed over me. The elevator had stopped, but we were on floor sixth. Kenji and I froze. He looked over his shoulders and I just looked at the elderly couple who was staring at us shocked. I gasped and just held Kenji too embarrassed to move. The woman shook her head judging us, while her husband smiled and nodded giving two thumbs up as she hit the elevator buttons.

Once the doors slid shut again, we both laughed staring at each other almost happily. I don’t remember being so flushed from being caught in such a position. I leaned down to kiss Kenji, and he returned it immediately. Now the kiss was sensual, passionate... needy.

Once the elevator doors stopped on the tenth floor, Kenji set me down, took my hand, and led me down to the other end of the hall. I smiled at how much I was throwing caution to the wind. What did I have to lose? If Kenji was some psycho killer who ended up killing me, then at least I’d know who was waiting for me on the other side.

As we rounded the hall, I noticed two men in black suits were standing in front of the door we stopped at. All Kenji had to do was look at them and they bowed their heads and opened the door for him. I was not expecting a security detail, but maybe it's expected with his kind of work. I assumed Jasmine or the other men sitting with Kenji earlier at his booth were associates, but it seemed more than that. Now that excitement was slowly drifting away as I wanted to know about the two men. Once we were inside the lavished and polished room, Kenji pulled me to him and locked his arms around me, dancing a bit with me almost. I held on to his shoulders moving with him.

“Tell me Odette, do you believe in fate?” he asked. I looked down at his body at his question.

“I do. Everything happens for a reason, even if that reason doesn’t make sense to all parties involved.” I replied. He nodded looking my face over.

“I agree.” he said before leaning over to capture my lips yet again. I leaned into him letting his mouth enjoy the fullness of my lips. I could tell he liked the feel of my lips by how much he was gently biting and sucking on my bottom lip. I hummed in amusement before raising my hands to gently slide off his topcoat and then unbutton his shirt. We let our foreheads graze against one another, inhaling the other’s scent as his hands moved to pull my halter top off.

I raised my hands letting him remove my top. Odette, you don’t know this man and you’re giving him access to your body like this! Yes, because tomorrow none of this would matter. It would only be a memory.

My top slid to the ground. His jacket fell after. He looked down at my bare chest and gasped lowly.

“Beautiful.” he breathed as I continued to unbutton his shirt. I noticed he was just watching me now, gazing into my face, as if he was ensnared just like back at the club.

Once I got the shirt unbuttoned, I moved to slide his shirt off, my attention was immediately grabbed by the vast colors that suddenly burst it seemed. I looked at the fully body mirror behind us, showing Kenji’s back, painted heavily with dragon tattoos of green, black, and gold.

And the handle of his gun was very well exposed. Oh, shit he’s one of the triads… that explained the security. Fuck no, he’s a Triads leader! Now my entire body tensed as I looked up at him clearly stunned, all excitement fading from my face. Kenji stared down at me now with a half lidded gaze.

“Are you afraid?” he asked lowly. I looked his face over wondering what kind of question that was.

“Should I be?” I asked gently. He stared at me for a little while longer. I had not recoiled from him, and maybe that was reason enough to him to lean down and capture my lips yet again, before going down a path of pure bliss starting with his fingers inside me.

Every time I was trying to keep myself calm, so I could wrap my mind around who Kenji was, how dangerous he was or even if he’s taken life, his fingers would curl upward, hitting that sweet spot inside me that made my stomach curl. His lips hadn’t left my clit, and the feelings alone had my toes curling and my knees bending in the bed. I cried out, gripping the bed sheets as I felt my second orgasm coming.

“Oh god, oh god, oh god!” I cried out, feeling my right leg spasm from the intense pleasure. Kenji chuckled darkly, holding that same leg down. I let my face fall to the side as I looked at the full body mirror once more. Even bent over I could see the tattoos, and everything else. This man was definitely blessed, and I could only imagine how much of him would fit inside me.

I felt his lips now kissing their way over my Mon pubis then up to my navel, over the spot between my chest and finally up to my neck. Now he was looking over me, face to face.

“You have no idea how long I have been waiting for you.” he said sensually, caressing his face. I was a bit confused by his words.

“And what makes you believe it was me you were looking for?” I asked. He grinned.

“Fate.” he said before leaning down to capture my lips. I could taste the juices from my entrance on his tongue, and I could smell the scent of my Olay Shea Butter lotion. Obviously, this was just him trying to sweet talk me. He is caught up in the mood so I would not hinder his attempt at trying to keep the romantic mood. I spread my legs wider, so he knew I was ready. I could feel his hand move between our bodies as he took hold of himself. Our eyes locked with each other as I feel him position himself at my entrance. And just like that, he pushes in, not aggressively, but enough for us both to moan out at the feeling of each other. I gripped his forearms tight.

Fuck he stretched me good. I panted lightly trying to keep myself calm as he started a nice even pace grinding his hips into me. Slowly he pulled out, but when he pushed back in, he would go just a bit deeper. I shuddered at the feeling. My legs wrapped around his hips, and we smile lustfully at each other.

“Feels good?” he asked, and I nod.

“Very.” I replied slowly moving my hips to meet his and now it felt like the room was spinning in the most fantastic of ways. I felt completely devoured by pleasure. I haven’t felt this way since my husband. I kissed Kenji hard, biting his bottom lip and he growled moving his hips faster against my own. I moaned into him as he held me close to his body. My head fell back into my pillow, and I moaned out louder feeling his lips against my neck kissing and nipping at my skin. We held each other close as our bodies moved as one. My body was so hot. He knew how to hit those sensitive spots inside me, each thrust had purpose. This man was a natural it seemed.

I finally pushed back against him to get him on his back.

In that moment, I noticed a slight look of caution in his eyes. But when he was on his back, that look vanished, and I began to grind my hips against him. His mouth formed the perfect O as he kept a tight grip on my hips moving to keep some sort of control on my body. I cried out hard as I felt this position only made my vagina pulse uncontrollably. With gravity playing a part, I felt stretched further, and I loved it. My head fell back, and I caressed my own breasts as I moved.

Our bodies picked up speed together we were so in sync with one another. Suddenly, Kenji leaned up, locking his arms around my back, and pressing his forehead against mine. I held on to his arms as I bounced on him, our eyes both mirroring a dark lust.

“You’re very tight.” he pants.

“I’m sorry.” I teased and he shook his head.

“I love your tightness.” he said quickly before kissing me sloppily and I wrapped my arms around his neck feeling a twinge of pain in my vagina. I felt him in my stomach.

“I can feel you, in my stomach. It hurts.” I pant heavily, giving a gentle wince. His eyes bore into mine, concern washing over him.

“I will slow down.” he says huskily.

“Don’t you dare.” I threatened and he smirked, and he sped up his movements.

My body was on fire engulfed in an intoxicating pleasure. I was drunk off it. I was so touch starved, that I wanted to feel every inch of him inside me forever.

"Look at me," Kenji pants. I didn't even realize my eyes were closed as I felt one hand on my chin and cheeks. "Odette... Look at me... please."

Kenji's voice was needy and desperate. I finally open my eyes staring into him with a passionate gaze before gently caressing his cheek.

"I see you." I assured him gently. That intimating and dangerous look in his eyes were quelled as if my words were the gentle touch he needed to calm him. He continues to thrust up into me, my walls clenching hard around him.

My cries grew harder and louder and erratic as I felt him assaulting my gspot now. Now I can feel his thrusts growing sloppy and ragged as I know he is getting close.

“I’m so close.” he pants. “Is it safe for me to cum inside?”

“Do you want to cum inside me?” I breathed against him.

“Yes.” he says quickly, wincing as if in pain.

“Tell me you want to cum inside me.” I say nearing my edge.

“I want to cum inside you, Odette.” he grunts. Hearing that desperation in his voice had me at my limit. My eyes fluttered closed, and I felt Kenji’s hand grip the back of my head as we both yelled out hard our orgasms hitting us intensly.

Both our bodies spasmed against each other hard and the more we rode our orgasms against one another the more we groaned harder at the over stimulation between our bodies. My vaginal walls were ringing uncontrollably so much that it was too much. I immediately moved off him, giving a light yelp mixed with laughter. Kenji wrapped an arm around me, and we both laughed at the intense feelings that overtook us. He then leaned back against the bed, bringing me with him. Now I was just lying on his chest silently. His heart was beating so fast.

But now was not a moment to cuddle and be all romantic. I was quiet now as the lust died down, and reality came back harshly.

“I am sure you have some questions.” he said. I looked up at him now, his eyes calm just like at the club. His forehead was shiny with sweat. I looked his face over with mild worry.

“Are you really involved with the Triads?” I asked softly. He nodded once.

“Yes.” he said. I nodded.

“How deep?” I asked.

“I am a leader.” he replied nonchalantly. I nodded slowly wondering how fate could be so cruel enough to bring us together.

“Should I be worried for my safety after I leave here?” I asked. He shook his head.

“No why would you be, it isn’t a threat to me that you know who I am. It is what you do with that information that could pose a threat. So, tell me, Odette Dubois, do you plan to be a threat to me?” he asked. His eyes were dark, sensual, seductive. But I knew he couldn’t be trusted.

I shook my head.

“No. We both got what we want tonight, company. Anything else is not my business” I replied. He nodded with a mild hum. I made a move to get up and his arms did not break from around me which did make me a bit nervous.

“You don’t have to leave tonight.” he said. I felt some knots form in my stomach now as I looked away nervously.

“What if I wish to leave?” I asked lowly, glancing back up at his face. He didn’t seem upset if anything he looked content.

“Then I would not dare hold you.” he said and unraveled his arms from me. I gave a gentle nod in thanks and sat up from him. I moved to find my clothes and began to put them on. My body is still tired and throbbing and hell even sensitive. But I felt it was not wise to linger with a man so dangerous. I glanced at the mirror to see him on his side lazily watching me. I was snapping my bra on when I glanced over at him.

“So, what will happen now?” I asked as I picked up my shirt.

“What do you want to happen?” he asked. I gave a gentle scoff.

“Now I want to go to bed and prepare for work tomorrow.” I replied. Kenji sat up resting his arm over his knee that he propped up.

“You can sleep here tonight if you want. My bed is quite comfortable.” he offered again. I chuckled some.

“You are my boss’ business associate. Anyone from my job could see me and I don’t want things to be bad for him business wise.” I replied honestly.

“You care for him?” he asked eyeing my body.

“He gave me a job when I was in a dark place, and with that job, came something fun and amazing. I want everyone to be doing good at my job.” I replied moving to grab my phone off the small counter by his bed. Kenji watched me as I did this before taking my hand, looking up at me.

“I had a nice night with you Odette.” he said. I looked down at him with a gentle, yet genuine smile.

“And I had a nice night with you as well, Kenji.” I replied. He smiled and patted my head.

“I am glad. Oi!” he called out to the door. The door opened and in came one of his men. I was a bit embarrassed to look at both men while Kenji just stood up before me in all of his naked glory. He spoke to them in Chinese, and the man nodded and just stood there waiting. Kenji looked at me.

“My men will escort you safely home. Paris is not safe at this hour.” he informed. I tensed inwardly, not at the thought of dangers out at night, but the fact that a triads member would know where I live. I shook my head.

“I could not impose. I can take the bus.” I replied, and Kenji shook his head.

“I cannot allow that. Goodnight, Odette. I look forward to seeing you again.” he said firmly. I could tell from the command in his voice, that I shouldn’t try to convince him again. What did he mean see my again? Would he be making more appearances at the club? I just nodded.

“Goodnight, Kenji.” I replied and began to exit the room. The bodyguard followed me out quietly. The air was tense as the man led me down the hall, into the elevator, and back into the lobby. He said nothing but would raise his hand to direct me in a direction. Once we were out front, a black Lexus pulled up and he opened the back door for me to enter. Once inside, I just took note of the comfy leather seats. The driver was quiet as the same man reached back handing me a phone.

“Put in address.” he said. I definitely did not want to, but did anyways and against my better judgement, the car took off. Now I just leaned back in the seat, the Gemme Noire was slowly shrinking away. I had to forget about this night with Kenji. I had to remember that it was sex, and nothing more. He was a Triads leader for God’s sake. I doubt I’d be the only person he slept with when here. Well, I could cross sleeping with a dangerous gang leader of my bucket list that’s for sure. Once I was dropped off at my penthouse, I got out and hurried inside.

The doorman, James, nodded at me and I smiled back and entered. After getting cleaned up yet again, my head hit the pillow and I was out like a light, dreaming of another night of sexual pleasure with Traids Leader, Kenji Takahashi.

Taglist

@slippinninque

@the-fangirl-diaries

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[contrivedchaos]

So I assume with a fallen Emily & Sera it takes a while for Sera and Carmilla to get together again not because they don't want too they both desperately do but. Carmilla is currently taking care of Emily and Sera they live in her home under her protection with her daughters she can't ask sera out that would be taking advantage of Sera since she has all the power in the relationship. Meanwhile in Sera's head she can't ask Carmilla out she can't risk losing a house, food and importantly safety for herself and Emily. (If she didn't have Emily she might have taken the risk but she won't do anything to put Emily in danger) So the two are living together in the same house not so secretly pinning for each other from across the hall. The girls all notice that the two are in love so the 3 are currently trying to set them up. (I assume that mentally and physically they are around the age of 9-11 years old though maybe centuries in actual years.) They probably get Zestial and maybe even Rosie involved who also notice the very obvious pinning and eventually get them together. Now they are happy little family of 5 of fallen angels and half angels living in hell.

We're just barreling right past redemption in this AU, eh? Hahaha. Fair, anon. Heaven doesn't seem all that great anyway. Also, I'm not sure of the canonical ages of the girls and Emily in canon, but seeing them younger would absolutely be adorable. Emily would absolutely overwhelm them with boundless energy and stories of heaven. And they'd have Uncle Zestial and Auntie Rosie spoiling all three of them rotten.

I think I've seen fanart of Odette and Clara as babies/toddlers and maybe one pic of baby Emily on the entire Internet. Aaaaahhhhhh I need more, honestly. 😍😍

Edit: Found the pic of baby Odette and baby Clara! 😭😭