#there was a lady who told the one who was filming her to meet her at the next red light and ??!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!??!!??!? bro | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

wholoveseggs · 5 months ago

Note

I am so excited every time I see new Elijah content of yours. Please don't stop anytime soon!! Helps me through the day.

I also have a request: Elijah is the sole guardian of his niece while Klaus and the rest of his siblings are out of town. He meets y/n, who's a single parent as well. She falls in love with him because he is so caring when it comes to Hope, but he has to come clean with y/n about being a vampire. Eventually, there's smut, of course :)

Ice Cream and Love Bites

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

You are at a playground with your son when you meet Elijah. He is everything you are looking for in a partner, but his life is shrouded in mystery. Can you trust him with your heart?

♡♡ Thank you for the request lovely @originals23! Fluffy domestic Elijah is my favorite ~xoxox ♡♡

8.2k words - Warnings: smut at the end, so much fluff, lots of cute kids stuff, ice cream, romantic dates, blood drinking, vampire reveal, Elijah being fatherly & beignets...

@gorgeouslydangerous @starkleila @lydia1369sworld @notleylaaa @vampiresluv

@myanmy @xflowerbombxo @maryvibess @always-and-forever-daydreaming

@spnaquakindgdom @amournoir @meeom @damienmorton @wickedmuse

@cs-please @complicatedandconfusing-25 @youcanhavemybuckanyday @akala6670229 @yeaiamme2

@itsjulzandmydiamonds @spideysbabe @witch-of-letters @elijahstwink @rosecentury

@amanda08319 @starshipcookie @li-da-savage @veggie-eggrolls @spideybv28

@sunkissedebony97 @idk00sblog @savannaounana @sekaishell @b1tchy

@loving-and-dreaming @fancycassie-stayfancy @hcqwxrtss123 @iamawkwardandshy @ziayamikaelson

@absolutemarveltrash @darkened-writer

Your son was everything to you. He had turned five not too long ago, and was a kind and loving little boy. It made you incredibly proud, seeing him grow and develop every day. However, it also meant that he had become even more of a handful.

You didn't mind, of course. You loved him with your whole heart. But it was hard being a single mom, with his energy completely boundless. He ran around your apartment constantly, climbing on everything, jumping off, and running to do it all over again. And he never got tired. Ever.

So you were happy to bring him to the local playground every chance you got. It was one of the few times you felt you could actually sit down and enjoy the world around you.

You sat at a bench, sipping your coffee and reading a book while keeping an eye on your son. He was playing with an adorable little girl, with auburn hair and bright blue eyes. You thought she might be about his age.

The two of them were running around and playing together, their laughs making you smile. Your son was such a social kid, always happy to make new friends and it looked like they were having a lot of fun.

You looked back down at your book, flipping a page, but the sound of the little girl crying caught your attention. Looking up, you saw her on the ground, clutching her leg.

"Are you okay?" You asked, quickly standing up and rushing over to the pair.

She sniffled and shook her head, tears falling down her face, she had a cut on her knee. Your son was kneeling next to her, holding her hand, which you thought was adorable.

"It's okay, sweetheart," you said gently, crouching down and examining her knee.

It was just a small scratch, but still, the blood was trickling down her leg. You pulled a tissue out of your bag, pressing it against the cut.

"Let's go find your mommy, okay?" You told her.

"My mommy isn't here," she sniffed, "uncle lijah is here."

"Where is your uncle?" You asked, looking around.

A shadow was cast across the three of you, and you looked up to see a handsome man, wearing a full suit and tie, even though it was a Saturday. He was ridiculously handsome, with dark eyes and a sharp jaw, looking like he stepped out of a noir film.

"Hope, darling, what happened?" He asked, kneeling down and looking at her with a frown.

"Uncle lijah, I fell," she cried, "but Miss pretty lady helped me."

"Oh, did she?" He looked up at you, a smile tugging at his lips, "thank you for helping my niece."

"Of course," you nodded, "it's no trouble at all."

Your son, who had been watching the whole interaction, suddenly spoke up, "mommy, who is that?"

"That's the uncle of your new friend, silly," you said, standing up and offering him your hand.

"Elijah," he said, taking your hand and shaking it, "it's a pleasure to meet you."

"Y/N," you said, smiling, "and this is my son James,"

"Hello, young sir," he said, looking down at your son, who was clinging to your leg.

James giggled, hiding his face in your leg. You smiled, gently ruffling his hair.

Elijah scooped Hope up in his arms, inspecting the cut on her knee. You couldn't even see it anymore, just a bit of dried blood.

"I have some bandaids in my bag if you need one," you offered.

He nodded, following you over to the bench where your bag sat. You handed him a bandaid, watching as he carefully peeled off the paper and placed it over the scratch.

Hope's eyes were still a bit watery, and she kept sniffling. Elijah kissed her head, smoothing her hair back.

"Uncle lijah can you go down the slide with me?" She asked.

"Of course, darling," he smiled, setting her down.

You watched as she grabbed his hand, pulling him towards the slide. Your son's hand slid into yours, and he looked up at you.

"Can I go down the slide too, mommy?"

"Sure, baby," you nodded, giving him a gentle push towards the playground.

You sat back down on the bench, sipping your coffee, but kept a close eye on both your son and the handsome stranger.

You watched him pull off his suit jacket, then his tie. You almost choked on your drink, seeing the way his shirt clung to his muscular body. He was tall and broad, and the sight of him without his jacket was enough to make you flush.

He helped his niece down the slide a couple of times, she was giggling, clearly feeling better now. After a few minutes, James joined the two of them, and Elijah smiled at him, helping him up the ladder.

Watching the three of them play was so heartwarming. Elijah was clearly a great uncle, and you found yourself admiring him from afar.

Eventually the kids went running off to play in the sand and Elijah came over to the bench, taking a seat next to you.

"Thank you again," he said, "I really appreciate you helping Hope."

"Oh, it was no trouble," you said, "she's adorable, and it was nice to have another parent around.”

Your eyes wandered to the man sitting next to you, he seemed so very out of place at a children's playground. He was clearly very rich, his clothes and watch were expensive, and he carried himself with such elegance.

"So, how old is Hope?" You asked.

"She's five," he said, "James?"

"He's five too," you said, "how long have you been raising her?"

"About half a year now," he said, a slight sigh in his voice.

"That's a big commitment," you said, "single parenting can be tough."

"I find it more rewarding than anything else," he said, "she's a wonderful girl."

You nodded and the two of you fell into a comfortable silence as you watched the kids. Hope and James were playing hide and seek, their giggles filling the air.

You couldn't help but notice the way Elijah looked at his niece, there was so much love and affection in his eyes. It was clear that he cared deeply for her.

It was so rare to find a man like him, who took his role as a parent so seriously. James' father didn't even care about the fact that he had a child, he had only used you for a good time, not caring about the consequences.

But here was this man, who was so caring and loving to his niece. After all that you had been through, the struggles of being a single parent, the loneliness, the pain, it was refreshing to see someone like Elijah.

You glanced at him, your eyes trailing over his face. He looked so prim and proper, you couldn't help but wonder what it would be like to mess up his perfectly styled hair, to tug on his tie and pull him in for a kiss.

Your cheeks heated up at the thought and you quickly looked away. The last thing you needed was to be thinking about a stranger like that.

After a few minutes, James and Hope ran over to the bench, excitedly telling the two of you about the game they had just played. You smiled, listening to their story, but your eyes kept drifting back to Elijah.

You wanted to know more about him, and not just because he was attractive. He seemed like a genuinely nice person, and it was so rare to find a kindred spirit in this city.

"Mommy, can I have an ice cream?" James asked.

"Me too!" Hope chimed in.

"Oh, uh," you looked at Elijah, who shrugged, "sure, let's go get some ice cream."

The kids cheered and ran off towards the ice cream cart. You and Elijah stood up, following behind them.

As the four of you approached the cart, James and Hope were bouncing excitedly.

"I want strawberry," Hope said, "no, wait, chocolate!"

"What kind do you want, honey?" You asked James.

"I dunno," he said, his brows furrowing as he looked at the variety of flavors, "there's a lot."

"How about vanilla?" You suggested, "it's a classic."

"Okay," he nodded.

"I'll have two scoops of chocolate," Hope declared.

"Just one for you, little miss," Elijah said, a smile on his face.

She pouted but didn't put up a fight, and you couldn't help but admire his ability to handle a toddler so well.

Elijah looked at you, an eyebrow raised, "and what would you like?"

"Oh, I'm fine," you said, "I don't want to impose."

"Nonsense," he said, "my treat,"

"Alright," you said, "I'll take chocolate."

He nodded and ordered four ice creams, handing one to each of you.

"Thank you," you said.

"You're welcome," he replied.

The two of you walked back over to the bench, sitting down and watching as the kids ran around eating their ice creams.

"So, how long have you been in New Orleans?" He asked, taking a bite of his own ice cream.

"Not long," you said, "only a couple of weeks."

"And you're liking it so far?"

"I am," you nodded, "the people are nice, and the weather is great."

"Do you have any family or friends here?"

"No, it's just me and James," you said, "we needed a change of pace, and I always wanted to live in New Orleans."

"Well, I hope you and James both settle in nicely," he said.

"Thank you," you replied.

The conversation was easy between the two of you, he was polite and charming, with a warm smile that made your heart flutter.

Your ice cream had started to melt, dripping onto your hand. He swiftly handed you his handkerchief, and you smiled, thanking him.

You watched as James chased Hope around the playground, their giggles and squeals of joy making you smile. It was so nice to see him playing with another kid, making a friend.

Elijah was equally enthralled, watching his niece run around with a grin on his face.

"You're really good with her," you said, "I can tell how much you love her."

"She's the best part of my life," he replied, "I would do anything for her."

His words tugged at your heartstrings, he was so open and honest. There was no trace of arrogance or self-importance, only pure love for his family.

"Pardon me if I'm being too forward," he said, "but would you be interested in getting coffee sometime?"

You could feel your cheeks heating up, his gaze was so intense, and you found yourself nodding.

"I would like that," you said. "But it's so hard for me to find a sitter,"

"Well," he said, a smile forming on his lips, "Hope loves your son, I'm sure she would enjoy playing with him again. Perhaps, we can schedule a playdate for the two of them, and we can have some coffee."

"I think I would like that very much," you said, your heart beating faster as he grinned.

The two of you exchanged numbers and then made arrangements for a play date the following week. As the afternoon came to an end, Elijah and Hope said their goodbyes.

You couldn't stop smiling as you drove home, your thoughts filled with Elijah and the coffee date you had planned. Maybe New Orleans would be good for more than just a fresh start.

It was a beautiful day outside, the sun was shining and there was a gentle breeze blowing. The perfect weather for a play date.

You had James in the back seat of your car, strapped safely into his car seat, driving to the address Elijah had given you. He was excited, eager to play with his new friend.

As you pulled up to the building, you had to admit that it was impressive. The exterior was in the style of classic French Quarter architecture with a large courtyard, wrought iron balconies, and lush greenery. It was beyond anything you could afford, but it was beautiful nonetheless.

"Wowwwww," James said, looking out the window.

"It's pretty, huh?" You said, unbuckling him and helping him out of the car.

He held your hand tightly as the two of you walked towards the front door. You felt a little nervous, unsure what to expect, but as soon as you rang the bell, the door swung open, revealing a very excited Hope.

"James!" She cried, throwing her arms around him.

He giggled, hugging her back.

"Hi," Elijah appeared behind Hope, a smile on his face, "thank you for coming."

"Of course," you said, "thank you for having us."

"Come in, come in," he said, stepping aside, "make yourself at home."

You stepped inside, taking in the beautiful interior. Everything was immaculate, the furniture and decor were elegant and sophisticated.

"Your house is so big!" James exclaimed.

"I suppose it is," Elijah chuckled.

"Hope, why don't you show James the playroom?" He suggested, "I'm sure he would love to see your toys."

She nodded and grabbed James' hand, leading him down the hall. You couldn't help but smile as you watched them run off, they were clearly going to be good friends.

"So," Elijah said, his voice low, "I thought maybe I could make you some coffee, or perhaps tea?"

"Coffee sounds great," you said, trying not to sound too eager.

"Wonderful," he said, "follow me."

You followed him into the kitchen, taking a seat at the island. He was moving around the kitchen, brewing coffee and setting out pastries. The place was just as beautiful as the rest of the house, with granite countertops and stainless steel appliances.

"You have a lovely home," you said.

"Thank you," he said, "it's been in my family for many centuries."

"That's a lot of memories," you mused.

"Yes," he said, a distant look in his eye, "there are a lot of memories here."

He poured the coffee into two mugs, setting them on the counter. You added a bit of milk and sugar, stirring it slowly.

"Tell me," he said, leaning against the counter, "why did you decide to move to New Orleans?"

"Well," you took a sip of your coffee, "I wanted a change, a fresh start... James' father left when I told him I was pregnant and I needed a place where we could start over."

"That must have been difficult," he said, his eyes full of understanding.

"It was," you admitted, "but I'm doing better now."

"I'm glad to hear that," he said.

You couldn't help but appreciate how easy the conversation was with him. He was charming and charismatic, and there was an air of mystery about him.

"What about you?" You asked, "what's your story?"

"My story is quite long," he said, a smile on his face, "perhaps another time."

You couldn't deny that you were intrigued, wanting to know more about this man and his family. But you also didn't want to pry.

The conversation drifted from one topic to another. You talked about everything from the books you were reading, to art and music. He made you laugh with his dry sense of humor, and you found yourself growing more and more attracted to him.

"Uncle lijah!" Hope's voice rang through the kitchen, she came running over and jumped into his arms.

"Yes, little one?" He asked, his expression softening as he looked at her.

"Can James and I have a snack?"

"Of course," he said, "would you like a pastry?"

She nodded eagerly, and he set her down on the counter, placing a plate with a pastry in front of her.

"Beignets!!" She exclaimed.

"Have you ever had a beignet?" Elijah asked, looking at James.

"No," he shook his head.

"Would you like to try one?"

James nodded and Elijah handed him a beignet, which he happily ate, quickly covering himself in powdered sugar.

"Oh," Elijah chuckled, grabbing a napkin and wiping James' face, "it seems you're quite the messy eater."

You watched the way he treated your son, it was obvious how much he loved children, and it warmed your heart.

"Sorry," James mumbled, his cheeks flushing.

"It's alright," Elijah said, "we all get messy sometimes."

You sipped your coffee, admiring the man in front of you. He was unlike anyone you had ever met, and you were beginning to fall for him.

The date ended far too soon, with Elijah walking you and James to the car.

"I had a wonderful time," he said, helping strap James into his car seat.

"Me too," you replied.

He straightened up, his face mere inches from yours. Your breath caught in your throat as you looked into his eyes.

"Perhaps we can do this again?" He asked, his voice low.

"I would like that," you murmured, your heart racing.

He leaned closer and kissed you on the cheek, his hands resting gently on your hips. You felt your cheeks heat up, a blush spreading across your face.

"Until next time," he said, smiling.

"Until next time," you echoed.

He stepped back and you got into the car, still reeling from the kiss. James was happily babbling away in the back seat, telling you about the toys he had played with.

As you pulled away from the curb, you couldn't help but glance in the rearview mirror, catching a glimpse of Elijah and Hope waving goodbye.

"Hope said her daddy and mommy are vampires and werewolves!" James said, "and she said that she's a witch and a werewolf!"

"Did she now?" You said, chuckling, kids had the wildest imaginations.

"A-and uncle lijah is the oldest vampire in the world!" He said, his eyes wide.

You laughed, shaking your head. Kids were adorable, and James was no exception. He was a little ball of sunshine, and you were grateful for the happiness he brought into your life.

You put the finishing touches on your outfit, glancing in the mirror. You were nervous, it had been nearly six years since you went on a date, and... well... All that comes with that. You spent far too long getting ready, even re-applying your makeup and changing clothes a couple of times.

You wanted to look perfect, and you felt like it was important that you do so. After all, you were about to go on a date with one of the most attractive men you had ever seen, and if you had a chance with him, you were going to make sure you gave it your best.

"What are you doing mommy?" James had wandered into your room, and you smiled at him, kneeling down to his level.

"I'm getting ready for my date, remember?"

He tilted his head to the side, looking thoughtful. "Is Uncle Lijah taking you on a date?"

"Yeah, he is."

"Why?"

"Because I like him, and I think he likes me." You blushed a little, feeling a little embarrassed. "He makes me happy."

James giggled, "He's really nice, mommy. You should marry him."

"Oh, I don't know about that. We just met, honey." You chuckled, smoothing his hair down.

"But he makes you happy, you get all red and smiley when he's around," James said, grinning.

You couldn't contain the smile on your face, because he was right. You did get happy and smiley when Elijah was around, and it wasn't just because of how handsome he was. The way he was with Hope and James, it was clear that he was a good man.

"I'll keep that in mind," you said, kissing his forehead. "Now, why don't you go grab your bag? Cami will soon be here with Hope, and the three of you are going to have a sleepover,"

"Okay!" James said, running off to his room.

You stood up and looked at yourself in the mirror, giving yourself a once over. You had chosen a simple yet elegant outfit, a silk dress with a pair of heels. It was the kind of dress that was comfortable, but also made you feel sexy.

There was a knock on the door, and you hurried to answer it. Cami was waiting at the door with Hope, the two of them grinning at you.

"Thank you so much for doing this," you said, Elijah had connected you with Cami and insisted on paying her for her babysitting services.

"It's no problem," Cami said, "I'm always happy to help."

"You look pretty," Hope said, her eyes wide.

"Thank you, honey," you smiled, ruffling her hair.

James came running back with his backpack, and you helped him put it on.

"You have fun, okay? And behave for Cami," you said, kissing his forehead.

"Are you having a sleepover too? With my uncle lijah?" Hope asked.

You chuckled, making eye contact with Cami and blushing, "Something like that."

"Yay!" She clapped her hands together, and Cami laughed, shaking her head.

"Come on," Cami said, taking both of the kids' hands, "we'll see you later."

"Bye mommy," James waved as they walked out the door.

"Bye, honey," you said, closing the door behind them.

Your stomach was filled with butterflies, and you couldn't help but smile to yourself. You couldn't wait for your date. You glanced at the clock, he was due to arrive any moment.

There was a knock on the door, and you took a deep breath, smoothing down your dress. You opened the door, your eyes widening when you saw him. He looked handsome, wearing a dark suit and a tie, a bouquet of dark red roses in his hand.

"Hi," you breathed, your heart racing.

"Hello," he smiled, handing you the roses, "for you."

"Thank you," you said, taking them, "let me put them in some water."

You turned around and walked towards the kitchen, finding a vase and filling it with water, carefully arranging the flowers in it.

"They're beautiful," you said, turning to him.

He was still standing outside on your step, which you thought was a bit odd. But he was incredibly old fashioned, so you figured he was just trying to be polite.

"I'm glad you like them," he said, "shall we?"

You walked out the door, locking it behind you. Elijah offered you his arm, and you gladly took it, smiling up at him.

"I hope you like Italian," he said, opening the door to his car and helping you inside.

The restaurant he took you to was one of the best in the city, it had a Michelin star and was known for its romantic atmosphere. There were roses everywhere, climbing up the walls and filling the room with their sweet scent. The candlelight flickered, casting a warm glow.

"This is so nice," you said, as Elijah pulled out your chair for you.

You sat across from him at the table, a bottle of red wine between you. He poured you a glass, and you took a sip, sighing happily.

"I'm glad you like it," he said, his eyes never leaving yours.

The food was delicious, and the company was even better. Afterwards, you walked hand-in-hand down the street, the night sky twinkling above you. It was a perfect evening, and you didn't want it to end. You were definitely going to be having a sleepover tonight.

"Would you like to have another drink back at my place?" Elijah asked, a smirk on his lips.

"I'd love to," you said, knowing what that meant.

The drive back to his house was full of sexual tension, his hand resting on your thigh. Your heart was racing, anticipation building within you.

He pulled up to his house, helping you out of the car. You walked up to the door, feeling a bit nervous, and when you got nervous you tended to start blabbing.

"My son said the funniest thing after our coffee date," you said, laughing, "he was talking about vampires and witches and werewolves and... it was so adorable."

You expected him to laugh, or perhaps chuckle. But instead he grew quiet, and his expression became unreadable.

"Is everything okay?" You asked, your brows furrowing.

"Yes, of course," he said, leading you inside.

"Are you sure?" You asked, sensing something was off, you had a sudden, terrible gut feeling that you said something wrong.

He turned to face you, his expression serious, "I really like you," he began, "and I know we've only known each other for a short time, but... I think there's something here. Something worth pursuing."

"I agree," you said, your heart skipping a beat. You took a nervous step towards him, wanting to be close to him.

He took your hand in his, looking into your eyes. "But I need you to understand something," he said, his voice low.

"What is it?" You asked, your pulse racing.

"There are things about my family that are... different," he said, his voice barely above a whisper, "things that may frighten you."

You were taken aback by his words, and your mind was spinning. What was he talking about? He pulled you in close, his face mere inches from yours.

"Please know, that I would never hurt you," he said, his voice soft, "but I need to be honest with you."

You swallowed hard, not quite sure what to say. His eyes darted to your lips, and you leaned in, kissing him softly. His arms wrapped around your waist, and he kissed you back, the passion and desire evident in his touch.

"Tell me," you breathed, looking up at him.

He pulled away slightly, his eyes searching yours. He looked hesitant, as if he was afraid of scaring you off.

"I'm a vampire," he whispered.

You burst out laughing, he wasn't even smiling, which made it all the more funny. You didn't realize how funny he was, it just made you like him all the more.

"You're a vampire," you giggled, shaking your head.

"I am," he said, his voice firm, and the smile faded from your lips.

"I-I..." You trailed off, unsure what to say. You took a step back, needing some space. Did he actually believe that? Was he having some sort of mental break? Or was he just taking the joke too far?

"This is a joke, right?" You asked, trying to keep the panic out of your voice.

"I'm afraid not," he said, "it's the truth."

"You can't be serious," you said, taking another step back. "Vampires aren't real,"

"I'm sorry to have to tell you this way," he said, his voice sincere, "but I couldn't keep it from you any longer. I had to be honest with you."

"I think you might need to get some help Elijah, raising a kid alone can be stressful, sometimes it does things to your mind..." you said it gently and as softly as you could.

He chuckled, "I'm not crazy, and I'm not making this up. Would it be easier to show you?"

You blinked, wondering if this was some kind of trick, maybe you'd gone out with a crazy person. Rich people can be so strange.

"Show me?" You asked, your voice a little shaky. "What are you going to do? Turn into a bat?"

You felt such sadness, you believed you had finally found someone that you had a real connection with. Who could be a father figure to your son, and someone that you could love, but it was all a delusion.

"Please don't be frightened," he said, his voice soft.

You watched with equal horror and fascination as his face began to change. His eyes turning completely black like a demon, dark veins appearing under his eyes, his teeth sharpened into fangs.

You screamed, falling to the floor. You couldn't believe what you were seeing. It couldn't be real. But it was.

"This can't be happening," you whispered, your body trembling.

Elijah knelt down in front of you, his expression sympathetic. "I know it's a lot to take in."

"W-what are you going to do to me?" You asked, tears rolling down your cheeks.

He let out a sigh, reaching out and wiping away your tears. "I would never hurt you," he said, his voice gentle, "never."

You could tell that he was sincere, and you felt some of your fear dissipate. You trusted him, despite his revelation, despite the fact that he was a vampire, a supernatural being that should only exist in horror movies and books.

"Fuck, you're really a vampire," you murmured, tears streaming down your face.

"Yes," he said, his voice gentle, his hand reaching out for you.

You took his hand, and he helped you up, leading you over to the couch.

"How old are you?" You asked, wiping away your tears.

"About one thousand," he said, shrugging, "give or take."

"Oh god," you whispered, you felt like the wind had been knocked out of you. Somehow the knowledge of his true age was more shocking than him being a supernatural creature.

"Are you okay?" He asked, looking concerned.

"Yeah, I'm just..." You trailed off, shaking your head. "How are you so normal?"

He chuckled, "what's normal?"

"I don't know, I just... I didn't expect this," you said, looking down at the ground.

"It's not something anyone is meant to expect," he chuckled, taking your hands in his.

He still felt the same, just warm and soft, not cold or clammy like the vampires in movies. He just felt like a regular person, not a monster.

"Does Hope know?" You asked, wondering how a child could learn about something like this.

"Yes," he said, a smile tugging at his lips, "she's a... Special combination of creatures."

"What?" You asked, your brows furrowing.

"It is a rather long and complicated story," he said, smiling.

"Well, I have all the time in the world," you said, a small smile on your face.

"So do I," he grinned.

He spent the next hour calmly explaining the nature of his existence, his family, and the supernatural world. He wasn't just any old vampire, but the first of his kind, an original.

You sat back against the couch, trying to comprehend everything he had just told you.

He stood and walked over to the fireplace, placing a few fresh logs on the fire. You thought about how many fires he must have made, that electricity wasn't around for most of his life. He had seen history happen, had been there through so much.

"What does it feel like?" You asked, curiously.

He smiled slightly, looking into the flames, "I don't remember any other way," he said softly, "but... There is an energy, a power that surges through my veins. It can be intoxicating, the thrill of the hunt, the feeling of immortality."

"It sounds..." You trailed off, not quite sure what to say.

"Frightening?" He supplied, looking at you.

"Yes," you admitted, biting your lip.

"That's understandable," he said, walking over to sit next to you on the couch.

You looked into his eyes, and all you saw was warmth and sincerity. "I'm not afraid of you though," you said softly.

"I am glad," he said, "but I understand if this changes things between us."

"You're still the same man," you said, smiling. "Just... More magical."

He laughed, a deep sound that reverberated through the room. It made you feel warm inside, and you couldn't help but chuckle as well.

"Magical," he chuckled, shaking his head, "if you say so."

"I do," you said, a grin on your face. "You're still the same gentleman I had coffee with. The one who makes me smile, and makes my heart race."

"Oh, I know all about your fluttering heart," he smirked, his eyes flashing dangerously.

"You do, huh?" You asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I can hear it," he said, leaning in close, his lips brushing against your ear, "your pulse quickens whenever I'm near. Like right now,"

His lips met yours in a tender kiss, his hand cupping your cheek. You sighed, your eyes closing as his lips moved against yours. He was being so gentle and hesitant, not wanting to scare you away.

But you wanted him, and you knew there was no point in fighting it. He made you feel safe and protected, he treated your son like he was his own. It didn't matter what he was, not when it came to how he made you feel.

His hands slid down to your waist, pulling you closer to him. You slid your hands up his chest, feeling his muscles underneath his shirt, knowing how much power he held. But he was gentle, his touch was feather-light as he caressed your skin.

He pulled away, his breath hot against your lips, his eyes searching yours. You smiled, giving him the silent permission he needed. He leaned down and captured your lips once again, his kiss growing more passionate. You tangled your fingers in his hair, his hands sliding down your back to grip your hips.

You pulled away slightly, feeling a bit nervous, it had been so long since you were intimate with anyone, and learning that he was a vampire just added an extra layer of intensity.

"What's wrong?" He asked, his thumb stroking your cheek.

"Nothing," you smiled, "it's just... It's been a long time since..." You trailed off, hoping he would get the gist.

"Since you've had sex?" He asked, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

"Yeah," you blushed, looking away. "With James, and working, and everything... It just hasn't happened."

"We don't have to do anything, we can just talk," he said, his voice sincere.

"No," you shook your head, "I want this, I just..."

"You're nervous," he finished, his lips curling into a smile.

"Yeah," you said, feeling embarrassed.

"That's alright, we'll go slow," he said, kissing you softly, his hands sliding up your sides, slipping underneath your dress.

His fingers grazed your thighs, slowly inching higher until they reached the edge of your panties. You could tell he was skilled, just by the way he was touching you, kissing you. He seemed to know exactly what you needed, where to touch, how hard or soft.

He smiled, loving how responsive you were, your breath catching in your throat, a moan escaping your lips. He kissed your cheek and stood up, slowly unbuttoning his shirt, revealing his muscular chest.

You leaned back against the sofa and watched him, your eyes roaming over his body. He was absolutely gorgeous, and he was all yours.

"So... You've looked this good for one thousand years?" You giggled, blabbering once again.

He laughed, his shirt hanging open, his chest bare. You swallowed hard, seeing the defined lines of his abs, the broadness of his shoulders. He was perfect, not a blemish on his skin.

"Something like that," he smirked, sliding his shirt off and letting it fall to the floor.

"Wow," you murmured, drinking him in.

"Wow yourself," he grinned, kneeling down in front of you, his hands on your hips, tugging you to the edge of the sofa.

You squeaked, blushing, and he chuckled, leaning over you, his eyes sparkling. He kissed you softly, his hands moving slowly up your thighs, pushing your dress up higher and higher. You were already soaked, and he had barely touched you.

He kissed his way down your neck, his lips soft against your skin. You shivered, closing your eyes as his hands moved up your body, you raised your arms and let him pull your dress over your head. He tossed it aside, his eyes raking over your body, his pupils blown with desire.

You looked away shyly, his intense gaze making you feel exposed. Your body wasn't the same since you had a child, stretch marks, and a little extra weight. You were nervous, and a little bit scared that he wouldn't find you attractive.

"You are beautiful," he whispered, cupping your chin and making you look at him.

"Thank you," you smiled, his words soothing your anxiety.

He kissed you, his lips firm against yours. You kissed him back, your hands moving up his chest, his skin hot to the touch. You ran your fingers through his hair, tugging lightly, earning a growl from him.

He kissed down your neck, his hands sliding over your breasts, his thumb brushing over your nipples. You gasped, arching your back, pleasure shooting through you. He smirked, continuing his exploration, kissing down your stomach.

He tugged your panties down with one hand, the other splayed on your chest, pushing your back down against the sofa. You closed your eyes, letting out a shaky breath, anticipation building inside of you.

He pushed your legs apart, his tongue darting out and licking a slow, teasing line up your slit. You gasped, your body jerking, your hips rocking against him. He chuckled, the vibrations making you shiver.

"So sensitive," he purred, his lips pressing a kiss against your inner thigh.

You groaned, gripping the cushions, his breath hot against your pussy. He licked another slow, torturous line, and then his tongue flicked over your clit. You moaned, your eyes rolling back, your fingers tangling in his hair.

Here was a creature, an old monument that time had not eroded, kneeling before you, his tongue buried deep inside of you. You could not believe that such a beautiful man could want you, that he could be so enamored by you.

You were so caught up in your thoughts that his name escaped your lips, the sound a breathless whisper.

"Elijah," you moaned, your legs trembling.

He hummed, his warm hands holding your thighs, keeping you in place. Your mind was a whirlwind of sensations, pleasure coursing through you as his tongue circled your clit.

You writhed, moaning, gasping, and whimpering. He seemed to enjoy every sound, his eyes looking up at you, his dark irises full of lust and adoration.

Your orgasm washed over you, making you cry out, your body shaking. He licked and sucked, drawing out every last drop of pleasure. You felt every bit of tension leave your body, the world fading away as you came down from your high.

You began to giggle, feeling lighter than you had in a long time. You were a little bit delirious, but in the best kind of way.

"That was amazing," you sighed, looking down at him, your smile wide.

"I aim to please," he grinned, his cheeks flushed.

You sat up, wrapping your arms around his neck, kissing him. You could taste yourself on his tongue, and it turned you on even more. He chuckled, his hands cupping your ass, pulling you closer to him, bringing your legs around his waist.

"You taste divine," he said, his eyes burning with lust, "and those sounds you make... They're exquisite."

You blushed, burying your face in the crook of his neck. He was too much, the way he made you feel was so overwhelming.

"You trust me?" He whispered, his fingers trailing down your back.

You looked at him and slowly nodded, curious as to what he meant. He smiled, his eyes warm and soft, a slight glimmer in them, you felt his arms tighten around you and suddenly you were moving faster than you could comprehend.

A second later, you were lying on his bed, his body hovering above yours. You blinked, confused, then smiled.

"Fancy trick," you giggled.

"Just one of many," he winked, kissing you softly.

You reached between the two of you and unbuckled his belt, pulling it out of the loops. His eyes followed your movements, his breathing becoming more ragged as you unbuttoned his pants and slid them down his hips.

His erection strained against his boxers, the fabric tight around his length. You gently ran your hand along the outline of his cock, your mouth watering at the size of it.

"What other tricks can you show me?" You teased, biting your lip.

"Oh darling," he growled, his eyes flashing, "you have no idea."

You felt a rush of wetness between your thighs, the tone of his voice turning you on even more. A small part of you was intimidated by him, he was a creature that could rip you apart with his bare hands. But there was a gentleness to him, a kindness that put you at ease.

"Seeing you in my bed is a dream come true," he said, his voice low.

"A dream, huh?" You giggled, teasing him.

"A fantasy," he said, his hands moving over your skin, his lips ghosting over your jaw.

"Oh really?" You asked, tilting your head to the side, giving him better access. "What else does a vampire like yourself fantasize about?"

He smirked, his teeth nipping at your neck. "I'll show you," he purred.

You closed your eyes, a moan slipping from your lips as he gently bit your skin, not enough to break the skin, but just enough pressure to make your blood sing.

He pressed a kiss against the spot and then lifted himself up, hovering above you. You took the opportunity to slide his boxers down, his cock springing free.

You spread your legs wider, inviting him in, and he settled between them, his body pressed against yours. He kissed you, his tongue sliding over yours, his cock rubbing against your pussy. You whimpered, wanting him inside of you, needing to feel him.

He chuckled, his hands moving down to your thighs, lifting them up around his waist. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him close, kissing him desperately. He smiled against your lips and eased himself inside of you.

You gasped, the feeling of being filled by him, stretching around his cock, was exquisite. He continued to kiss you, his hips moving slowly, pushing deeper and deeper into you.

It was hot, slow and sticky, his body pressed against yours, his lips on your skin. It was the most intimate moment you'd ever shared with someone, and it was perfect.

He began to move faster, his lips moving down your neck, kissing and nipping at your skin. You tilted your head back, offering him better access, his tongue licking a hot stripe up your throat.

A sudden, anxious thought entered your mind, and you froze. What if he bit you? Do vampires expect that during sex? Was that a thing?

He noticed your hesitation, and slowed his movements, looking at you, a worried expression on his face.

"What is it, darling?" He asked, stroking your cheek.

"Nothing," you said, trying to hide your concern.

He stopped moving, his brow furrowed. "If I'm hurting you, or you want to stop, just say the word," he said, his eyes searching yours.

"It's not that," you said, looking away.

"Then what is it?" He asked, his thumb rubbing soothing circles on your hip.

"Do you... Bite, during sex?" You asked, blushing.

He smiled, his eyes sparkling. "Only if you want me to," he said, leaning down and kissing you softly, his hips starting to move again.

"Does it hurt?" You asked, breaking the kiss.

"It can," he admitted, "but not the way I would do it."

You looked at him, a part of you intrigued by the idea. You couldn't deny that the thought of him sinking his fangs into your skin was a little bit arousing.

"You're curious," he smirked, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

"A little," you confessed, "it's a new experience, and it's kind of..." You hesitated, wondering if you were ready for that.

"Kinky?" He offered, raising an eyebrow.

You giggled, "Yeah, kind of."

He laughed, his hips thrusting into you, making you gasp. "I could bite you, here," he said, his thumb brushing against the pulse point in your neck, "just a little bite, not enough to cause any real damage."

"You won't... You won't kill me, or turn me, or anything, right?" You asked, feeling a little foolish.

"No, darling, I promise," he said, smiling reassuringly, leaning down and capturing your lips in a sweet kiss.

You kissed him back, feeling a rush of heat pool in your core. You had never done anything like this before, but it was Elijah, and you trusted him.

"Do it," you whispered, your body aching for him.

He looked at you for a moment, his eyes searching yours, making sure you were serious. Then he smiled, a smile full of mischief, his eyes glowing with desire.

You held his gaze, your heart pounding in your chest. You watched his eyes change, the soft brown eyes turning completely black, veins appearing underneath them. You should have been scared, but you weren't.

"Don't be afraid," he said softly, his voice taking on a deep, husky tone.

You nodded, touching his cheek, feeling the veins beneath his skin. He kissed your palm, his eyes on you the entire time. You felt a rush of warmth course through you, a sudden burst of confidence.

He lowered his head, his lips brushing against the hollow of your throat, his breath hot against your skin.

You could feel his fangs, his teeth sharp against your flesh. You swallowed hard, waiting for the pain, but it never came.

Instead, he kissed you, his fangs scraping against your skin, sending a thrill through you. He was gentle, and his kisses were slow, soft. His hips still moving against you, the rhythm slow and steady.

You sighed, your eyes fluttering closed and you felt his fangs break the skin, his lips sucking gently at the wound.

It was like nothing you had ever experienced, the feeling was intoxicating, the pleasure was so intense it was almost painful.

Your heart was racing, your skin was flushed, your body trembling with ecstasy. He groaned against your skin, his grip on you tightening, his hips moving faster.

"Elijah," you breathed, clutching at his shoulders, your nails digging into his skin.

He growled, his hands sliding up your body, his fingertips ghosting over your skin. He pulled his mouth away from your neck, and you whimpered at the loss, the wound still bleeding slightly.

You opened your eyes, blinking up at him. His eyes were back to their usual brown, the veins underneath them gone, a smear of blood on his lips. He was looking down at you with a mixture of lust and awe, his expression full of reverence.

You moaned, clinging to him, his movements pushing you closer and closer to the edge. You couldn't stop yourself, and neither could he.

Your orgasm ripped through you, pleasure like a tidal wave crashing over you, and Elijah groaned, his own release following quickly. He buried his face in the crook of your neck, his hips still thrusting, riding out the last waves of his pleasure.

You opened your eyes, and reached up to touch his fangs, your chest heaving, still trying to catch your breath.

"They're sharp," you observed.

"Yes," he chuckled, "they are."

"It didn't hurt," you said, still a bit shocked.

"I made sure of that," he smiled.

"Thank you," you said, leaning up and kissing him.

He kissed you back, his arms tightening around you. You snuggled into his embrace, his body warm and solid.

"Are all vampires that good in bed?" You teased, grinning.

"Maybe, I haven't exactly polled the rest of the community," he smirked, brushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

"Hmm, maybe I should go out and ask around," you joked, laughing.

He chuckled, pulling you closer. "I'm not a fan of sharing," he said, kissing the top of your head.

"I'm not either," you smiled, your hands moving over his body.

"Good," he said, smiling, his eyes sparkling.

"I love you, Elijah," you said, looking up at him, your heart full of affection.

He smiled, a real, genuine smile, the kind that lit up his eyes and made his dimples pop.

"I love you, too, darling," he said, kissing you, his lips soft and sweet.

The two of you laid there for a while, holding each other, enjoying the afterglow. You were content, your body sore and satisfied, your mind buzzing with bliss. Elijah's arms were strong around you, his body warm and solid.

"Tomorrow we should take the kids to this museum downtown," he said, his finger lazily tracing patterns on your skin.

"Mhmm," you hummed, enjoying the feeling of his touch.

"It's supposed to be a fun exhibit on history and mythology," he continued, his voice a soft rumble in his chest. "Since James is so interested in vampires and the like, it would be a perfect opportunity."

You sighed, snuggling closer to him. "Sounds great," you mumbled, your eyes starting to close.

You heard him chuckle, and then the room fell silent, the only sound the beating of his heart, a soft, steady thumping. You could feel the rhythm, and it was soothing, lulling you into a peaceful slumber. It was the first time in a long time you'd slept so soundly.

This fresh start in New Orleans was going to be the best thing that had happened to you in a long time, and with Elijah by your side, you knew everything was going to work out.

#elijah mikaelson #the originals #the vampire diaries #hope mikaelson #vampire diaries #tvdu #elijah mikaelson smut #elijah mikaelson imagine #elijah mikealson imagine #elijah mikealson #elijah mikaelson x reader #elijah mikealson x reader #tvd #the vampire diaries x you #the vampire diaries x reader #the vampire diares imagine #the vampire diaries imagine #the originals imagine

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cinnnamongrl · 1 year ago

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sorority secrets- ellie williams (part 1)

pairing: college!ellie williams x fem!reader

summary: ellie williams has never been the 'sorority type'. but when she meets you, she realises maybe spending college as a part of eta alpha rho isn't so bad.

warnings: [18+ MDNI] explicit language, suggestive themes/language, mentions of dating men, alcohol, small mentions of homophobia. [this series will contain smut later on- warnings will be listed accordingly]

author’s note: i’m really excited for this series hehe it’s gonna be a few parts. hold on tight bc there is drama and hot lesbian sex to come (my two favourite things).

ellie williams doesn’t like sororities.

she likes savage starlight comics, she likes video games, she likes getting high and watching space videos, she likes when cats do that slow blink to show they’re comfy with you.

she does not like sororities.

and yet here she stands, in the main room of the eta alpha rho house, 5 minutes from meeting the other girls who had been accepted into the campus’s most well known sorority. dread was resting heavy in ellie’s stomach. she didn’t want to fucking be here. what even was a sorority anyway? forced friendship with a bunch of prissy straight girls? no thanks. she’ll pass. she had only one person to thank for this bullshit; ellie’s step-sister brittney. perfect brittney. tall, blonde, president of eta alpha rho brittney. if brittney wasn’t so… brittney, then ellie’s step-mom wouldn’t be blackmailing her into a college sorority, threatening to cut her off if she couldn’t show willingness to follow in your family’s footsteps and become a respectable eta alpha rho lady.

“can you try not to look like you’d rather be drowning in a pool of piss than be standing here?” brittney’s shrill voice broke ellie’s flow of thought. “no can do i’m afraid” brittney scoffed dramatically. “i don’t want you here either, you know. it was my mom’s idea, not mine. i think you’re perfectly suited to staying in your dorm all year with your weird stoner friends” she spat. “well then, we can agree on one thing” ellie shot her a sarcastic smile.

brittney strode towards the eta house door as the first few girls arrived. ellie looked down at her feet and then looked to her right. she walked over to the sofa, deciding she’d feel less awkward if she was sitting. less aware of her body now, she was able to form her (shallow, but oftentimes correct) initial thoughts on the girls she was going to be ‘sisters’ with for however long she survived this little group.

cute…

won’t last 2 weeks with brittney…

definitely films herself shotgunning white claw…

woah.

you walked into the room and a nervous tingle rested at your fingertips. the sound of excited giggles and shy greetings settled in the background and you allowed your eyes to scan where you stood; pink wallpaper, a framed photo of an older but still glamorous blonde woman, grand staircase, white sofa, girl sitting on said sofa. is she… part of the sorority too? didn’t see her during rush week. beat up converse, white vest and a short sleeved grey shirt, large tattoo covering her right forearm… pretty freckles. you still weren’t sure if this girl was even part of eta but something in you was pushing you to go and sit next to her.

“hey” you offered a smile as you sat beside the girl. “what’s your name?”

ellie sat up a little straighter and cleared her voice. “ellie.” be cool ellie. “what’s yours?”

you told her your name and she nodded. something about the way she was looking at you put you on edge a bit; it made your stomach feel fluttery and hands slightly damp.

“are you… in eta alpha rho too?” you asked. she chuckled “why, do i not look like i am?” you shook your head defensively “no no i just- you-“ “it’s fine. yeah i am. my sister is the president of the sorority, ‘s why i’m here”. you nodded in understanding.

you talked for a little while longer and to her frustration, ellie couldn’t figure you out. past ‘woah’ she couldn’t make many initial judgements. sure, you looked the part; pretty, smiley, white dress short enough to show off your body but not too short that grandma would disapprove. but from the short conversation ellie could not see why you’d be interested in eta alpha rho.

truthfully, you didn’t really know either. your friends back home had gushed about the concept of being a sorority sister, and your parents were… traditional. their daughter in a good college with good grades in a respectable sorority, dating a nice young man from the college’s fraternity was their dream. just like they had done. to be honest you weren’t really interested in sororities and frat boys, you wanted to stay focused on keeping up your perfect grades and securing your future; that’s what college was about after all. however if being part of eta meant getting into fun parties and having a group of girls who always have your back then why not?

“AHHH there you are!” a girls voice interrupted yours and ellie’s conversation and you looked up to see a girl standing over you with a wide smile. “brittney just told me I’m your sorority big sister! my name’s emilia. welcome to eta alpha rho” she put a gentle hand on your shoulder and then averted her gaze to ellie “ellie, good to see you again!” ellie gave her a smile back. “i want you to meet some of the other girls, c’mon” emilia took your hand and pulled you from the sofa into a crowd of girls.

a flash of annoyance shot through ellie at brittney’s friend taking you away. she didn’t really know why, you were probably going to end up becoming one of brittney’s bitchy friends who all pretend to like each other but fuck each others boyfriends behind their backs. she relaxed her body back into the sofa, and watched you. watched the lines appear around your eyes as you smiled, let her gaze travel down to your thighs, noticed your nails. red and short. gay? she promptly pushed the thought away. she let her eyes run back up to your face, your lips and oh fuck she’s looking at me- ellie averted her gaze to the vase on the table in front of her and mentally slapped herself. don’t be a perv, jeez. acting like you’ve never seen a fuckin pretty girl before.

~~~~

you laid on your dorm bed trying desperately to focus on the episode of yellowjackets playing from your laptop and keep your eyes from closing. the eta meet had drained you and although it wasn’t late you felt ready to call it a day. your phone buzzed and after a few seconds of debate you decided to pick it up.

you sat up straight and pushed your laptop away from your lap.

you locked your phone and the black screen revealed the somewhat silly image of you smiling in your reflection.

~~~~~~~~~~

“truth.”

the game had been going on for maybe 10 minutes, and ellie was losing the will to live. you hadn’t showed yet and ellie was 1 “i dare you to text your ex” away from getting up and leaving.

“where’s the craziest place you’ve ever done it?” a red haired girl asked the girl beside her. after a moment of pause, “denny’s parking lot”. a fit of giggles erupted but were quickly drowned out in ellie’s ears when you walked into the room and took a seat next to her.

emilia gave you a quick wave and smile and you returned it.

“late to your first eta social. that could get you kicked out you know” ellie spoke in a hushed voice. she saw the way your eyebrows raised in worry and instantly felt bad, “i’m joking”. “don’t do that” emphasising the ‘do’ with a playful nudge to her arm. “you missed loads. sasha had to show everyone her most recent text AND you’ll never guess what? chloe has a crush on brandon!” ellie waved her hands in faux excitement. you tried not to laugh at her mocking your new sorority sisters. “you’re an asshole”. she tilted her head slightly with a smirk, “yeah?” you managed back a small “mhm”.

“ellie! truth or dare?” a brunette girl spoke suddenly, bringing your attention back to the group. ellie leaned back, adjusting her position so she was manspreading slightly, and let out a small huff. that same fluttery feeling in your stomach made itself known again and you looked away from ellie. “uh. truth i guess?” the girl pondered for a few seconds. “what’s your favourite thing in a guy?” ellie raised her eyebrows for a moment before a little smirk you were sure only you caught appeared on her mouth. “his sister.” the room went silent. ellie didn’t seem to notice. “gross” brittney muttered. you looked up and caught her eye “not in like… a homophobic way.” she clarified. you lowered your head and subtly looked through your eyelashes at ellie, who was absentmindedly taking a sip of her beer. emilia, who was smiling, got up from her seat and gestured for you to follow her to the drinks table.

“sooo, having fun?” she asked you, grabbing a beer for herself. “yeah!” you offered back and looked around the table for something sweeter than beer and stronger than hard seltzer. “i know truth or dare is a bit juvenile but it’s an eta alpha rho tradition” she chuckled. “nothing wrong with a bit of childish fun” you smiled and she nodded back before squeezing your arm and going back to her seat. you stood before the drinks table feeling slightly awkward. ok let’s see… tequila? barf. maybe vodka? hm but what with. oh they have cranber- “you know, there’s capri-suns in the fridge if you’re not a liquor girl” ellie’s playful mocking broke your train of thought and made you jump slightly. you faced her with one hand on your hip and one resting on the table and narrowed your eyes in mock annoyance. while your brain tried to think of a witty response you noticed ellie’s eyes were taking in your body and it made your face heat up. you opened your mouth to respond and her eyes landed there and stayed on your lips. was she aware she was this unsubtle? “your beers with a 5% alcohol content aren’t too far off capri-suns” you retorted. she laughed and it made something leap in your chest. you turned back around to pour yourself a drink as ellie watched you.

after a few hours the games had died down and the scene in front of you showed most of the girls chatting or dancing to the dua lipa song that was playing from the tv. you’d been stuck in a conversation with a girl called alice for the past 40 minutes about her boyfriend who’s cheating on her but still loves her (she feels it in her heart), you were searching for a lull in the conversation to excuse yourself to the bathroom but so far alice hadn’t come up for air. that’s until an angel sent from heaven (who’s name escapes you) swoops in and sparks up a conversation with alice, leaving you with a clear exit plan. thank you nameless angel. unnoticed by alice or her friend you make your way to the bathroom across the hall, ‘you want me, i want you baby, my sugarboo…’ becoming quieter and quieter and your head ever so slightly fuzzy from the two drinks you’d been nursing throughout the evening. you reached the bathroom door and lifted your arm up higher than sober-you would find necessary to check it wasn’t occupied, and at the same time the door flew open making you lose your balance slightly and fall like an idiot into the poor person who’d just used the bathroom. “oh my god i am so so sorr-“ you looked up and saw ellie, looking down at you with an expression of amusement. you stepped back a little and she lifted her arm to rest against the door frame. you blamed the drink on the way that little display made you feel. “time to switch to capri-suns, sweetheart?” you pushed past her body into the bathroom “shut up about the capri-suns” she laughed and turned her body to face you as you checked your appearance in the sink mirror. “i’m serious. wouldn’t want you stumbling over like that and spilling something on that pretty dress of yours” she stepped forward a few inches and your heart rate picked up and you suddenly felt warm all over. even something about the way she indirectly complimented your outfit made you feel all weird and shy in a pathetically girlish way. what the fuck was wrong with you. keep. it. together. you could tell she’d had a little to drink from her lightly flushed cheeks.

“i won’t. ‘m not drunk” your eyes locked onto hers through her reflection in front of you. “yeah? then show me your eyes”. “what?” you questioned. she placed her hands on your hips and turned your body around to face her, your back now leaning against the sink. she was close. “you can always tell from the eyes,” she spoke low and her words took their time on her tongue “drunk people always get this hazy look,” her own eyes darted between each of yours “you know… heavy..” you swallowed, head swirling from definitely not the vodka and fuck since when was this bathroom so hot “.. sleepy” you opened your mouth and the breath you didn’t realise you were holding came out and her eyes were on your lips again. she brought her tatted arm out to hold the sink, caging in the left side of your body.

“oh!” both yours and ellie’s heads shot to the door, revealing emilia standing there. “sorry! was just coming to look for you,” she told you “wasn’t sure where you were.” she half-giggled. ellie cleared her throat and gave emilia a tight lipped smile and exited the bathroom. “glad you’re safe, i’ll uh- let you pee now.” she tittered and followed ellie back to the room, closing the bathroom door behind her. right, yeah. i came here to pee. the past few minutes left you with a little disorientation; you sat down and replayed your moment with ellie. moment? can you call it a moment? why does it even matter. what the fuck were you doing getting all woozy because a girl you only just met flirted with you for 3 seconds. you physically shook your head pretending that could rid you of the feelings you were experiencing. ellie was in your head and it scared you. that’s the thing about the guys you’d dated; sure it was fun to go on dates with them, sex could be… pretty enjoyable, and you could laugh and joke with the majority of them. but they never interrupted your focus. they never took up space in your brain when you weren’t in their presence, and they didn’t have the power to distract you from college or your grades. they were safe.

as you entered the room again emilia noticed you and spoke up “hey! i was just thinking: you came in late so you never got to play the game! soooo.. truth or dare?” she asked with a big smile. the moment had passed surely you thought, but you humoured her anyway. “dare?” “ok,” she put her finger to her bottom lip and looked up “, i dare you to tell us who you have a crush on” grown adults. we are grown adults. “isn’t that a truth?” you questioned. “oh shush. just answer” you thought of ellie. you were sure she was looking at you but didn’t dare to check. then you thought of college, your sorority sisters, your parents.

“chad.” there was a chad in your college right? emilia gasped “chad peters?” sure “yep” “AHH he is SO cute. head of the football team AND kappa upsilon sigma fraternity president as well, someone has standards” emilia jibed. you gave her a false smile. you could see brittney out of the corner of your eye frowning.

you were a fucking idiot. chad? you could almost feel ellie’s eyes on you, but you still couldn’t manage to turn around and look at her. now who was the asshole.

part 2

#ellie tlou 2 #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie williams smut #ellie x reader #ellie tlou

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roosterforme · 2 years ago

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The Younger Kind Part 7 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley goes on his second date with Amanda. She's beautiful, sweet, and so into him. But you're on his mind like always and he needs to do something to finally get you out of his head and out of his system. He has an all too willing participant.

Warnings: Smut, angst, swearing, fluff, and age gap (18+)

Length: 4600 words

Pairing: Single dad!Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x babysitter!female reader

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On Saturday evening, Bradley was getting ready for his second date with Amanda. He had been steadily beating himself up since you left on Friday morning. He could tell you were upset with him. Honestly, he was upset with himself. Kissing you while he was drunk had been bad. Seriously some college fuckboy shit. Probably worse than the guys your own age, because he should know better. Because he was so much older than you.

And then he had kept you here all night, basically hijacking you when he should have sent you home. Instead, he had taken you to his bed.

But now, the joke was on him, because his entire fucking room smelled like you. When he had tried to fall asleep on Friday night, his pillow smelled like a field of wildflowers. And then all he could picture were your glossy lips, pouting with a bright red Skittle perched between them.

His dick was rock hard after that, and it had been almost painful how badly he needed to masturbate to the thought of you at midnight, his face buried in his pillow.

But that was yesterday. Now he was fresh out of the shower, where he had masturbated again, this time thinking about you in those cutoff denim shorts you had. At least now he was considerably less wound up as he let Noah play on his bed while he picked out something to wear to this film festival with Amanda.

Amanda. Yes. Now she seemed like a safe bet. She checked off all of his boxes, and she was definitely giving off the vibe that she was into him. She had even been the one to initiate plans for the second date.

"Should daddy wear this on his date tonight?" he asked Noah who was playing with some stuffed animals. He held up jeans and another Hawaiian print shirt.

"For the babysitter?" he asked, perking up.

Bradley swallowed hard. He wished. "No, bub. You get to hang out with your babysitter. I'm going to watch some movies with another woman."

Noah turned back to his stuffed panda and said, "Stay home and play with us. And eat ants on logs."

Bradley dropped the clothing onto his bed and ran his hands over his face. He stood there in his underwear for a minute, taking deep breaths.

"Noah, I'm going out with this lady so that hopefully you can meet her one day, okay?"

He listened to his son mispronounce your name. "I thought she was your favorite."

Bradley groaned, yanking on his jeans. "She is, bub. That's the problem."

He heard you let yourself in and call out his name.

"Bradley? Noah? I'm here."

Noah slid off the bed and ran out of the room as soon as he heard your voice. Bradley also felt like running into the living room to give you a hug. Instead he finished getting dressed and ran his fingers through his hair to make it look better. But when he made his way to the living room and spotted you holding Noah, wearing those cutoff shorts and a tank top, Bradley thought maybe he should have jerked off again.

"Hi," you whispered to him, trying to keep your expression neutral. Bradley wasn't sure if you were still upset with him because he had kissed you, but he did promise not to let it happen again. He would also wake you up if you ever dozed off on the couch again.

"Princess." The name was out of his mouth before he could take it back, and he watched your expression change. Now you looked pleased with yourself as you set Noah down.

"You look nice," you told him. "For your second date."

He laughed. "Yeah, I guess I have you to thank for that, since you fixed my app for me."

Bradley watched your face fall a little bit. "That must be it," you agreed. "Where are you going?" you asked as you pulled some coloring books out of your bag and held them out for Noah.

"A film festival. In Balboa Park," Bradley replied. He watched Noah select the dog themed book and plop down right on the living room floor with it.

You ruffled Noah's hair and handed him a box of crayons, and Bradley was once again aching for you.

"A film festival? Sounds right up your alley," you told him. You chewed on your lip for a beat before you added, "Maybe you should take your pajama pants and some popcorn."

Bradley could picture cuddling with you and feeding you popcorn in this room so easily, he needed to close his eyes and take a deep breath.

"Nah, I'd miss my own couch too much," he promised you.

"Ah, I see. Maybe for your third date then? You might need your couch?"

No.

He thought it so quickly. Almost said it out loud. Because he honestly could not picture bringing Amanda here after a third date.

Instead he said, "We'll see."

You nodded before you sat on the floor next to Noah. "Well, have fun."

Bradley cleared his throat. "If the two of you need your crowns, Noah's is on his dresser. And yours is on my bedpost."

Your eyes popped up to meet his, and your lips parted. He had hung it there again after you moved it before you left for your class yesterday. It was where it belonged.

"Thanks," you whispered.

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As soon as Bradley left, you could feel your body sagging. You watched Noah color while you took a minute to catch your breath. A second date wasn't the most serious thing in the world, but you needed to get over him now. Before it got any worse. Because even if not with Amanda, there would eventually be a third date, and a fourth, and a sleepover, and a relationship.

You felt sick now.

"Can you color that dog green?" Noah asked, looking at you with his sweet face and handing you a crayon. "What's wrong?" he asked, climbing into your lap and mispronouncing your name.

"Nothing is wrong, Noah. I get to color with you and make you dinner."

He settled back onto the floor and said, "I wanted daddy to stay here tonight."

You sighed. "That would have been nice." You wondered what this woman looked like. She must have been pretty. Most of the women you saw messaging had pretty profile photos. They all looked like real adults, too. Women who had established careers, and maybe kids of their own. The kind of woman Bradley was looking for.

"Are you hungry?" you asked Noah. "Want me to make you some spaghetti?"

You tried your best not to let your thoughts stray to Bradley, but when you opened the refrigerator to get some milk out for Noah, you saw that Bradley had purchased two more bottles of the French vanilla coffee creamer. You knew he must have preferred hazelnut, but he seemed to have switched to your favorite flavor.

You slammed the door shut hard enough that Noah jumped in his seat. "Sorry," you whispered, kissing the top of his head and pouring him some milk. "Okay, time for spaghetti."

Apparently Bradley liked you well enough to keep you coming back to babysit, but not enough that he would kiss you again when he wasn't drunk and rambling about how pretty he thought you were.

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Amanda was snuggled up against Bradley on the picnic blanket she had brought. He was already sitting awkwardly as it was, and now his back was starting to hurt as she was pressing her body along his arm. He could feel her breasts rubbing against his bicep, and he wasn't sure what he should do about it.

"Mind if I lay back?" he asked, feeling like this date was not going as well as dinner had two nights ago.

"Sounds good," Amanda practically purred, planting her palm against his chest and pushing Bradley back. When he propped his arm behind his head, he was still able to see the gigantic screen that had been set up in the park, but soon Amanda was laying on his chest, blocking the view.

"Oh, okay," he whispered, and she smiled, resting her chin on his chest.

"I mean, we weren't really watching it anyway, right?" Amanda asked, and a really adorable smile lit up her face as she licked her lips. She was pretty. And now she was scooting up along his body, her dress pulling a bit, exposing more of the tops of her breasts.

Bradley swallowed hard, and then her lips were on his. She pushed her fingers into his hair, but it kind of tickled more than anything, and Bradley was barely returning the kiss. It wasn't bad, but he also had no problem keeping both hands tucked underneath his head.

Amanda moaned softly, and he supposed it would have been enough to get him going, but now he was thinking about how his bed still smelled like you. When he tried to go to sleep later, he was probably going to get hard again. Harder than Amanda would be able to get him with her mouth on him.

Bradley pulled back a tiny bit, and thankfully his phone vibrated in his pocket. "Gotta check that, sorry," he muttered, unlocking his phone to see that you had sent him an image. He opened it with a pounding heart and clumsy fingers, revealing a photo of Noah in his crown, writing DADDY on a sheet of yellow construction paper.

Bradley just wanted to be at home.

"Everything okay?" Amanda asked, sounding a little impatient.

"Uh, yeah. One second," he mumbled, sending you a text back.

Are you wearing your crown too?

Almost instantly you wrote back to him, and Bradley was excited to see another photo of you in your crown. But he didn't get one.

Babysitter: No. I'm not feeling like much of a princess tonight. Enjoy your date.

Bradley sat up again, not sure why that bothered him so much.

"What's wrong?" Amanda asked.

"Nothing," he insisted, and then she was touching him again, her lips gliding along his neck.

"Good," she whispered, running her hand along his arm and lacing her fingers with his. And then thankfully the credits started rolling, and everyone on the neighboring blankets started to stand up.

"Movie's over," Bradley said like a straight up dunce, getting to his feet and pulling Amanda up as well. He checked his phone again. It was almost 10:30 and you hadn't said anything else to him.

"Oh, well, it's early. How about we go get dessert or coffee?" Amanda asked, insisting on keeping her fingers linked with his. "Or.... I could show you my place?"

Bradley just grunted. "I need to get back to my babysitter."

"Right," Amanda replied. "Walk me to my car?"

Bradley nodded, and managed to get her in her car only after she kissed him and rubbed herself against the front of his body. She moaned into his mouth, and Bradley honestly didn't know what the fuck was wrong with him. She was perfect, and she was clearly keen on fucking him.

He broke away, and when he was about to tell her good night, she said, "Call me and we can set up another date." But he just nodded and started to head for his Bronco.

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

After you gave Noah a bath and got him changed into pajamas, you and he shared a snack.

"Can you teach my dad how to make the ants on the logs?" he asked as you carried him to his bed.

You chuckled. "I can try, Noah, but I don't know if he could even handle doing that much in the kitchen."

Noah sighed and snuggled in with his stuffed animals. "The food is better with you here," he said with a yawn, and you rubbed his back until he was sleeping.

Then you went about your routine of picking up toys, cleaning the kitchen, and getting some food prepared for the boys. Because even if it broke your heart to know that Bradley didn't want you, there was just no way you could leave him and Noah hanging. You started by making more carrot sticks for them, and then you moved on to a few dinners before curling up on the couch with your textbooks and some Skittles.

Bradley's date must have been going well. It was pretty late, and you were trying not to think about it. You had clinicals coming up, and you needed to study. You made it about thirty minutes into your reading by the time you thought you heard Bradley pulling into the driveway. And when he rushed inside you looked up at him, just as you popped an orange Skittle into your mouth.

"Princess," he muttered, smiling softly at you.

"Bradley."

"Why aren't you wearing your crown?" he asked, closing the door behind him, but never taking his eyes off you.

You laughed, popping two yellow Skittles between your lips as you closed up your book and put it in your bag. "Why aren't you still on your date?"

"I asked you first," he insisted, and you rolled your eyes.

"I just felt more like a peasant than a princess. That's all. Now, why are you home already?"

Bradley's brow was scrunched as he sat down right in the middle of the couch, his leg rubbing yours as you immediately stood. He looked up at you, saying, "I'm not really sure." He eyed you up and down where you stood in front of him, like you were on display for his eyes only. "And you're no peasant."

His gaze was making you feel warm as you ate the last Skittle and dropped the wrapper into your bag. "I guess you're the peasant. No Skittles for you tonight," you told him. But he just responded by licking his lips.

"I don't deserve any," he told you, and you watched his huge hands as they slowly rubbed up and down his thighs. You thought about climbing in his lap, kissing him and letting him get a taste of the candy after all.

Instead you told him, "You'll let me know when you're going on your third date, and I'll come over to stay with Noah." And then you hoisted your bag up higher on your shoulder.

"I don't think there's going to be a third date," he told you, his voice so deep now, it reminded you of when you heard him in the kitchen early yesterday morning.

"Oh." You weren't sure what to think about that. You'd psyched yourself up all night long, gotten used to the fact that this Amanda woman was going to be getting to sleep in his bed with him, unlike you. And now, maybe that wasn't actually the case. "What's the problem? She tell you she hates salad dressing?"

He shook his head. "Worse. She was pretty and nice and funny, but I didn't want to touch her."

"That's a shame," you whispered, remembering exactly how his hands and his kisses felt. "Well. You know how to reach me." Bradley was staring at your lips as you turned to leave, and you pulled the door closed behind you without another glance at him.

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Bradley was about to beg you to stay. You were the same, still funny, witty and sharp as a tack, but he could tell you were irritated with him. He wanted to get you back to joking around in the kitchen with him. He wanted to kiss you again, push you up against his furniture. While he was sober, so you knew he meant it.

But you were turning to leave, and he wasn't sure when you'd be back, because he didn't have any more dates planned. And he couldn't make himself want Amanda, no matter how hard he tried.

Just as he was about to suggest you stay and have a beer with him, you were turning to leave without gracing him with another glimpse of your pretty face.

"Fuck," he groaned as the door closed behind you. "You fucking idiot," he growled, picturing those Skittles brushing against your lips before you crunched on them. He rubbed his hand along his dick through his jeans. He was hard and getting harder now, and that's when he caught sight of your hoodie on the couch next to him.

Bradley grabbed it and buried his face in it, inhaling the wildflower smell and stroking himself again. "Princess," he grunted, running his nose along the fabric. "Oh, fuck."

He unbuttoned his jeans and eased the zipper down, knowing there was only one way he was going to get a little bit of relief, short of enjoying your body right now. With one more deep inhale, Bradley let his hand glide down his abs, ready to pull his jeans down. He groaned your name this time. And then the front door opened again.

"I forgot my hoodie- Oh!" you gasped, eyes wide as you took in the sight before you. Bradley had his hand close to his cock, and your shirt was balled up in his fist, near his nose.

He was hoping you'd just turn around and leave again, pretend you didn't see any of this. He was completely mortified as he dropped your hoodie to try to cover his open zipper and his underwear from your view. At least he hadn't pulled himself out yet.

But instead of leaving, you pushed the door closed, with you firmly inside his house. You took a delicate step toward him, nibbling on your lip with your eyes trained on his.

"Were you saying my name?" you asked softly, taking another step in his direction. He was so mesmerized by your body, with your bare legs on display, he started nodding before he could stop himself.

"Yeah, Princess," he groaned, and he knew his cheeks must be bright red.

He watched you reach up and touch your neck. "Shouldn't you be moaning Amanda's name?" you whispered, and Bradley was treated to the sight of you pressing your fingertips to your lips.

He just shook his head, and now you were standing right in front of him, so close he could touch you. You knew now. He was certain you knew exactly what you were doing to him. There was no turning back.

"No, Princess. Amanda doesn't make me hard like you do."

"You were thinking about me?"

Bradley nodded. "That's the problem. I can't stop thinking about you." He couldn't believe he said that. He was going to die of mortification.

But you whimpered, and Bradley was bucking up against nothing as your eyes dropped to his barely concealed erection.

You bent at the waist, resting both of your palms on his knees, and Bradley was treated to a nice view down your shirt. You licked your lips, and he was about to lean forward and kiss you as you said, "I can help you with that. If you want."

Then you slowly pulled your hoodie off of his lap and glanced down. Bradley's cock was hard and huge, aching as you were touching him now. Before he could answer, he watched you sink down to your knees and settle in between his splayed legs. You were rubbing his thighs through his jeans, and his heart was pounding so hard, he thought he might pass out.

Your voice was so soft and sweet. "Do you want me to?"

The only thing Bradley wanted was for you to take care of this for him. For him to be able to feel your hands on his body. He groaned as you ran your fingers up and over his cock, squeezing him through his jeans.

"Oh, yeah, Princess. Please."

And then you were guiding his jeans and underwear down until he was springing to attention, finally free from the tight fabric.

Your glossy lips were parted, and your eyes were wide as you reached for him, wrapping one hand gently around his length. You stroked him once, and Bradley almost shot up off the couch, it felt so good.

Then you kissed his tip, swiping his precum away with your tongue, and Bradley was leaning forward and tipping your chin up to meet his eyes.

"Princess," he groaned, running his thumb along your lips. "You done this before?" He wanted you so badly, but he couldn't stand the thought of this being your first foray into oral sex. He was simply too far gone for something so delicate.

You parted your lips and licked his thumb with a smirk. "Yeah. Once or twice, Bradley." Your tone was sarcastic, and he throbbed in your hand. "I am in college, you know. I'll take excellent care of you, I promise," you whispered, kissing his tip again while you kept eye contact with him.

"Yeah," he grunted. "That's what I'm afraid of." He stroked your cheek, watching your every move intently. When your perfect lips parted and wrapped around his cock, Bradley ran both of his hands through his hair before fisting them at his sides. You were barely sucking on him, just the tip, but it felt so fucking good he was already panting.

When your tongue popped out to swirl around him, he tipped his head back and groaned. "Princess," he hissed, his cock leaping in your hand as you let your thumb trail down his full length to his balls. "Goddamn it."

He watched you smirk and open your mouth wider, taking as much of him as you could. You bobbed on his length, pushing him deep enough that you were starting to gag. And that was it; Bradley's hands flew to your face, stroking your cheeks softly with his fingers before pushing back along your hair.

You watched his face as you hollowed out your cheeks and sucked harder. "Oh, fuck," he growled, neck and shoulders straining against the urge to fuck your face until he came. He didn't want to do that, not right now, because this slow agony you were putting him through was fucking fantastic.

When you slowly dragged your lips back to his tip and popped him out of your mouth, Bradley was treated to the sight of your wide eyes and your tongue peeking out to wet your lips. You looked so fucking innocent. So young. So filthy with your tongue laving along the underside of his cock, keeping him nice and wet.

Then you moaned softly, and Bradley hissed your name.

You eyes met his with a soft, hazy look as you ran the tip of your nose down to his balls. "God, you're so big," you whispered, kissing him there. "Are all Daddys this big?" you asked him.

Bradley pulled gently on your hair, tipping your head back to look at him, keeping you steady with his other hand on your neck. The softest sound escaped your parted lips as he leaned forward a bit. "Call me Daddy again."

Your lip trembled as you nodded with Bradley's hand tight around a fistful of your hair. "Okay. Daddy."

His primal moan filled the living room, as he watched you rub your cheek against the angry, red head of his cock.

Then your perfect lips were on him again, your tongue treating him to sensations he couldn't ever remember feeling. He tried to keep his hands gentle on your face and hair, but you felt too good. He found himself guiding you a little slower, needing to make this last as long as physically possible.

You took him until you gagged again, and Bradley was seeing stars. "You're so fucking good, Princess," he groaned, but that just seemed to egg you on as you went harder. Bradley watched you take him impossibly deeper, feeling the rub of your throat along his tip. He could feel himself moving against your throat where his hand was now gripping you, and he just gaped at you, mouth hanging wide open as you licked and sucked.

When you released him again, you used both hands to stroke him as you kissed the tip. "Do you like this, Daddy?"

Bradley's eyes were practically rolling back in his head. "Oh yeah," he grunted, thrusting up into your palm as you tickled and squeezed his balls in one small hand.

"Do you want to cum in my mouth?" you asked him, eyes glittering as you kitten licked along his cock. He was throbbing in time with your little licks and kisses, and he leaned forward to kiss your forehead.

"God, baby. So bad," he grunted, pushing you down gently with his palm on the back of your head. He saw you grin and heard you giggle, and he couldn't get enough. When you parted your lips for him, you guided him toward your plush tongue, tapping him against you there. Then you wrapped your mouth around him once more, and Bradley knew he wasn't going to last long.

The obscene, wet sounds. Your soft moans. The vibrations along his dick. You were bobbing hard and fast now as he chanted Princess.... Princess!

You took him so deep, he could feel your lip and you saliva on his tightening balls as you sucked him hard. He knew his fingers were digging into your scalp, and you were squeezing his hip now. When your gaze met his, Bradley really felt his control slipping.

"No, no, no," he whispered, wanting this to last forever. It was so good. You were too good at this. And he would be lying to himself if he said your pretty, innocent looking face wasn't making him even harder for you.

You must have been able to tell he was close when you wrapped one hand around the base of him. You swirled your tongue while you jerked your mouth around him with such finesse, Bradley couldn't believe you were only twenty four. "So fucking good," he groaned. "God damn it!"

And then you took him like a champ, all of his thrusts hit the back of your throat, but you barely flinched, keeping your gaze on his. Your eyes were watering now, and you whimpered as he filled your mouth and throat up with his hot cum.

It had been so long since he had been with a woman, but he didn't think he'd ever had an orgasm that lasted this long. He was still groaning, fingers gentle at the back of your head as you swallowed him down. Then you came back for more, slowly gliding your mouth back down his length before popping him out again.

He whispered, "Princess. Fuck," as he watched you lick up the additional beads of cum that you coaxed out of him. And then Bradley was spent, sitting back against the couch in a daze. He stroked his fingers along your cheek and chin, caressing you as you continued to lovingly kiss and lick his cock as he started to grow soft in your hands.

"You okay, Daddy?" you asked him, wiping up some of his cum from the corner of your lips.

"Princess," he whispered as you nuzzled against his hand. "You learned a lot in college, huh?"

You just giggled, and reached your finger out to his lips. Bradley opened his mouth for you, and licked up his own cum, loving the look in your half lidded eyes. He watched you lick your finger after he was done with it, and then you stood up. He thought about asking you to stay with him, but instead he just sat there with his cock hanging out and watched you pull on your hoodie.

"Let me know when you need me again," you told him with a smirk before leaning down and kissing his forehead. Then you left again without another word.

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Bradley got his dick wet with the babysitter. Bye, Amanda. Enjoy your babysitter fic @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 8

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avastrasposts · 1 month ago

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Bona Dea - part 5 The End

Plot: Stumbling through a dark town, general Marcus Acacius encounters the festival of Bona Dea. But what at first seems like just a pleasurable way to spend the night leaves a greater impression on him than he counted on.

Series master list

General Marcus Acacius x female reader

Warnings: Explicit smut. No use of y/n, the reader is pretty much a blank slate if you're a Roman noble lady in 2nd century Tuscany?

Word count: 8.4k

A/N: Fifth and final part of Bona Dea (at least until I watch the film next Sunday and start making up new stories....). All happy endings here! Please come tell me your thoughts, yell in my inbox, ask me about all the strange Roman customs I squeezed in here, I'd love to hear from you all!

A few notes on the Latin. I think most of it is pretty self-explanatory but just in case: Caligae - typical Roman sandals Carrisme - dearest or sweetest Sepmer - always Amica mea/Amica meus - "my love" in female and male form Ubi tu Gaius, ego Gaia - Ubi tu Gaia, ego Gaius - Wherever you are, I will be

The next morning, just after you’d finished breakfast with the family and Alba, one of the servants came in to announce a guest. Your heart caught in your throat when you heard the name. Alba gasped loudly and it made Titus look up at first her and then you, when he saw your shocked faces, he quickly understood something was not right.

“Who is he?” he asked, rising to his feet as you did the same.

“My father,” you replied, your hands shaking as you smoothed down your stola, “I didn’t think he’d risk the journey, but it seems I was wrong.”

“Siro,” Titus called to the servant who had brought the news, “Send word to general Acacius at once, tell him Domina Lunaris’ father is here and he should come at once to meet the father of his bride,” his words were light but the grim tone spoke volumes

Titus gave you a reassuring look as Siro left the room, “Don’t worry, Marcus will come as quickly as he can and make sure your father does not interfere.”

“We’ll come with you to meet your father,” Antonia told you, coming to your side with Alba and taking your hand, “You won’t have to face him alone, and Marcus will be here soon.”

“Thank you both,” you replied, still nervously smoothing down your stola. Alba squeezed your hand and gave you a scared look.

“He can’t say anything, can he? You’re a widow now, and under the protection of general Acacius.”

“She’s not just under his protection,” Titus said, “She’s his betrothed, he’s given her a ring and shown Rome that she belongs to him now,” he beckoned you all to follow him, “Come, let’s see what your father has to say and show him that you are not some lost young girl.”

Your father was seated in the reception room and stood up as Titius walked in through the door, and then you, arm in arm with Antonia.

“Nerius Vernio,” Titus greeted him, “Welcome to my home.”

The two men bowed and Titus introduced himself and his wife as your father eyed you. You dropped your eyes to the floor and curtsied low.

“Father, I didn’t know you were coming to Rome, I hope your journey was uneventful,” you greeted him and he gave you a cursory nod.

“Daughter, I’ve written and requested for you to return home several times, but my letters have gone unanswered,” he said and then turned to Titus, “Aurelius, I’m grateful you’ve taken in my daughter and her cousin after the bandits attack that took her husband’s life. I’ve arranged for accommodation for us and I’ll take her into my care now.”

You immediately shook your head but your father ignored you, “Alba, pack up both of your belongings, I have a letica waiting for us outside.”

“No, father, I’m not-” you began to protest, but Titus interrupted.

“Vernio, there is no need for them to leave, we are happy to have them stay and they’ve both become very good friends of my wife. And your daughter has made a very happy connection while in Rome. And-”

“I’ve heard of this connection, and the upcoming wedding,” your father snapped, his eyes on you and not Titus, “But you are still my daughter and you belong to my family and I will not allow you to marry anyone without my consent.”

“Father, I’m a widow and can choose my own husband now,” you replied, but he shook his head, interrupting you again.

“No. You will come back home, we will set Lunaris affairs on order and then I will choose a new husband for you,” Vernio was grabbing at your arm now, ushering Alba at the same time, trying to make you leave, “I will not have you dishonour our family name by running off and remarrying mere days after your husband dies.”

You tried to dig your heels in, and Antonia was reluctant to let go of your arm, “Please, father, I am not going back. I don’t care what tradition says, I’ve found a good man to marry, many times better than Lunaris and I love him.”

He scoffed in reply, looking at you with contempt, “Love? When did love ever play a part in marriage? You’ll marry who I choose and if the gods will it, you’ll grow to love your new husband as much as you did Lunaris.”

“I never loved Lunaris,” you cried, pulling to get your arm back now as your father looked close to slapping you in his anger, Titus looked appalled and stepped in to calm the situation.

“Please, Verio, your daughter is allowed to have a mind of her own, she is no young maid going to her first marriage,” he said, placing a hand on your arm, “Both law and tradition says a widow can choose to marry whom she wants.”

Suddenly there was a flurry of activity by the door of the reception room and the next thing you knew, Marcus was striding over to you, his face dark with rage. He was dressed in his full armour, the dark leather decorated with the intimidating Medusa, his gladius hanging on his hip. The sight made your father abruptly drop your arm and take several steps back as Marcus reached your side and immediately cupped your cheeks.

“Amica mea, I came as fast as I could,” he said, looking only at you and not acknowledging your father with as much as a glance.

“Thank you, amor,” you replied, smiling up at Marcus and taking immense satisfaction in the way your father seemed to be almost cowering from Marcus’ imposing form. It felt like having a fearsome lion as protection, storming in with a roar and making sure everyone knew that you were his to protect.

“My father has arrived,” you said finally, after Marcus had dropped his hand to your waist and turned to the room with you securely in his arms, “Father, I’m pleased to introduce you to my betrothed, general Marcus Acacius. General, this is my father Fabius Nerius Vernio.”

“Vernio,” Marcus said, giving your father a short nod. Vernio on his hand seemed to have lost his ability to speak, he only stared at Marcus.

Marcus continued to look at Vernio with thinly veiled rage, and your father seemed no closer to finding his tongue and the room lapsed into an uncomfortable silence. You were delighted seeing your father squirm under Marcus’ sharp eyes and had no intention of easing his uncomfort. Eventually it was Titus, ever the diplomat, who broke the silence.

“General Acacius is one of Rome’s most celebrated military commanders, and enjoys great favour from the emperors. I’m sure you can understand that your daughter is making a very wise choice in accepting his proposal,” he said, almost imperceptibly and gently ushering your father towards the door of the room.

“I’m still her father and I can’t allow her to marry some stranger,” he protested weakly, “Lunaris estate must be taken care of.”

“Oh, so that’s where your concern is!” you exclaimed, only Marcus’ arm around your waist stopped you from stepping closer to your father, Marcus tightened his grip and held you back. “You only want Lunaris’ assets so that you can marry me off to someone with lands next to the olive groves!”

Next to you, you felt more than heard Marcus’ growl. Your father tried to bring himself under control and took hold of the edge of his toga, nervously adjusting it on his shoulder. Under Marcus’ glare he seemed pitiful.

“Your daughter will want for nothing when she is my wife,” Marcus said, his tone betraying that he had no patience for this conversation, “If it’s money you want to let her go, then you can have whatever you want. Unlike you, my only aim is to make her happy and I don’t need money for that.”

He turned to Titus as he took your hand in his, “I’m taking my future wife to the temple to prepare for the ceremony, I trust you to have evacuated your guest when we return, Titus.”

Titus gave him a smirk, a look exchanged between the two old friends that spoke volumes, “Of course, general Acacius.”

And with that Marcus led you from the room, stepping between you and your father as you passed by him, you kept your eyes from him, not wishing to see his reaction.

Later, when you reclined next to Marcus in his private reception room, you went over the events in your mind. After Marcus and you had left Titus’ villa he’d taken you to visit the temple of Juno to honour the goddess of love and marriage. On the day of your wedding you’d have a ceremony at the temple of Jupiter, but it felt right to honour Juno and ask her to protect your love for each other after your father’s anger today.

Afterwards Marcus had asked if you wanted to see his villa, the place you would effectively be taking control of once you were married. So now you sat next to him in his private rooms, picking at the food the servants had brought from the kitchen.

“I think, in reality, he loves the idea of a great Roman general as husband to his daughter,” you told Marcus, thinking of your father, “both he and Lunaris were obsessed with power and you’re certainly more powerful than Lunaris ever was.”

“He didn’t seem too keen today though,” Marcus replied as he pulled you closer on the seat you were on, “You’d think his daughter was marrying a homeless sewage collector.”

“I think he was mostly angry that he had no say in it, he hates not being in control,” you said, “but I won’t let him ruin this. I’m marrying you and I’d marry you even if you were a sewage collector.”

Marcus chuckled at that and playfully pinched your nose between his thumb and forefinger, “But you’d make me bathe every day before I came home? Or would you let me into your bed smelling like the excrements of Rome?”

He laughed as you giggled and squirmed under his grip, finally letting go and capturing your smiling mouth in a tender kiss.

“Would you love me even if I smelled like shit, carissime?” he asked with a mischievous grin.

“Maybe a smidgen less,” you laughed, accepting his insistent kisses along your neck.

He kept you occupied in that way for some time until it was time for you to return to Titus’ villa. Your lips were swollen and your hair less than smooth as he escorted you through the gates.

“How are the preparations for the wedding going?” he asked, walking next to you with his hands clasped behind his back, keeping his roaming paws to himself to stop too many rumours to spread amongst the slaves at the villa.

“We are almost done, the clothes are prepared, Antonia has made the wreaths for our heads, and the jewellery will be delivered tomorrow,” you replied. The big door was opened by an unseen slave and light spilled out onto the courtyard, “Will you come in?” you asked.

“Yes, I need to discuss something with Titus,” Marcus said, “But I’ll say good night to you now, my love, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I wish it was our wedding day tomorrow,” you smiled, “I don’t want to wait any longer to be your wife.”

Marcus smiled and pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek, “Sleep well, amica mea.”

Alba woke you up the next morning, insisting on an early visit to the villa’s thermae, dragging your sleepy form along.

“Antonia and I want to make sure your wedding day is perfect so we’re rehearsing it all today,” she said, “do all the steps so that we have time to make changes.”

“Sounds sensible,” you yawned, “but why so early and why do we start in the baths?”

“Because there will be a lot of standing around getting adjusted today so we’re starting with a relaxing bath and massage.”

You were too tired to question her and both the massage and bath were enough to put you back to sleep, snoring lightly on the marble slab until Alba woke you up again. Antonia then greeted you in the largest reception room, where the servants had just finished setting up a light meal. So while you tried to nibble on sweet dates, you were shrouded in all your wedding finery. A brand new, pure white tunic was pulled over your head and your hair then fiddled with while you yawned again. Alba and Antonia were debating how to best braid your hair while making the customary flammeum, the bridal veil, stay attached. It would be seen as a very bad omen if it fell off. You had to squint to see through the fabric as they finally agreed on how to fasten it.

You admired the white tunic and the bright yellow veil in the polished brass mirror that was being held up in front of you. You remembered how much you’d hated it on your first wedding day, now you smiled at your reflection as Antonia tied the belt securely around your waist until you realised what she was doing.

“No, wait, don’t tie that yet. Only Marcus is supposed to untie it and the wedding isn’t for another three days,” you protested, but it was too late, the Hercules knot was securely in place.

“You’ll just have to stay in your wedding clothes until your wedding night then,” Antonia laughed and you frowned at her, untying the knot was a major part of the ceremony once the newlyweds were alone in their new home. Only when the husband untied the knot and slept with his wife for the first time were they truly married in the eyes of Rome and the gods.

You were about to protest again as the doors to the room slammed open and Titus rushed in.

“Protect the bride!” he called in a dramatic voice, throwing his arms up in the air as Marcus stepped in behind him and pushed him aside with a grin.

“No man will stop me from robbing this woman away from her family and making her mine,” he called, striding over to you with long steps, mischief glinting in his eyes as Alba and Antonia tried to hide the bright smiles.

“What are you doing?” you laughed, “The wedding isn’t for another three days.” Tradition held that the groom would pretend to steal his bride away from her family, and the bride should act as if she was both sad to be taken from her home, but also excited to begin her new life. But now he was three days early and you were confused when he grabbed your arm and pulled you with him towards the door as Titus pretended to try to stop him from leaving.

“I’m claiming you as mine, we will go to the temple of Jupiter this very day and let the gods know that you will be my wife from this day on,” Marcus said, keeping the tradition with a stern voice, but you could see the glint in his eyes. He pushed Titus to the side, who made a big show of falling to the floor and Antonia ran over to him, pleading with the gods to stop Marcus. The smile she gave you made you realise she’d been in on it all along and you had to bite your tongue to stop yourself from laughing out loud. Marcus had taken your hand in his and now he was ushering you along the hall, across the courtyard and into his carriage. He helped you step inside and you managed to wave to Titus and his family who had followed. Now they were throwing walnuts over your heads as the family’s slaves joined in, shouting well wishings. You suddenly realised, you were getting married today, somehow Marcus and Titus had moved things forward, and now you were on your way to the ceremony.

Marcus climbed into the carriage and you couldn’t help beaming up at him. He was dressed in white armour adorned with gold details and he was grinning widely at you as he pulled you into his side, laughing as more walnuts rained down over the carriage.

The procession to the temple of Jupiter was filled with blessings called to you both from the people on the streets, many joining in behind you together with Titus and his family. By the time you arrived in the square before the temple of Jupiter, the crowd was pretty large. The flamen Dialis, the head priest of Jupiter, stood at the top of the stairs, awaiting your arrival together with his wife.

“You changed all the plans,” you said to Marcus as the carriage made a lap around the square.

“I talked to Titus and he sent out messengers last night,” he replied, his smile disappearing as he looked at you with serious eyes, “We didn’t want to risk your father trying to disrupt the events. Neither Titus nor I trust him to not try to influence someone to get control over both you and Lunaris’ assets,” he cupped your cheek and let his thumb caress your skin, “And honestly, I was tired of waiting for you to be my wife, we have spent enough days apart, now I want you to be mine.”

“Then let's pay our respects to Jupiter so that you can take me to our home,” you smiled at him and he smiled back.

The carriage came to a stop at the foot of the stairs and Marcus tenderly kissed your forehead before he took your hand and helped you step down. The large crowd cheered as you began to climb the stairs, Titus’ family and Alba behind you. At the top of the stairs you stopped in front of the Dialis and he called up Jupiter to make your marriage a long and happy one. Two slaves brought forward a sow and the auspex performed the sacrifice to the god Ceres, reading the entrails of the dead animal as its blood dripped down the stairs. After much humming and mumbling, he finally stood up straight and loudly declared the omens to be good, loud enough for the crowd to hear. A big cheer erupted and you saw Marcus smile from the corner of your eye. He took your hand and turned you so that you were facing him, and the Dialis told you it was time for the groom to look upon his bride.

Up until now you’d enjoyed the spectacle, it felt like your first real wedding day, not the unhappy day you’d married Lunaris. But now suddenly you felt the weight of the moment, emotions racing to the surface as you looked up at Marcus. He could only see the shadows of your features through the veil, but his smile was warm and tender, his eyes soft, as if he could see through the veil and into your nervously beating heart as you lifted your shaking hands and removed the flammeum.

“Semper amare,” he whispered, so low that only you could hear it, and his words filled you with calm as you slowly lifted the bright yellow veil from your face. Stillness filled your mind as you met his eyes and you smiled back at him and took a deep breath.

“Ubi tu Gaius, ego Gaia,” you said, your voice loud and clear, carrying across the square.

Marcus reached out and took your hands in his and replied as was the tradition;

“Ubi tu Gaia, ego Gaius.”

His voice also carried across the square and the crowd cheered as the Dialis cleared his throat and looked pointedly at where Marcus was holding your hands.

“General, you need to let go of her so that I can initiate the dextratum iunctio,” he said and Marcus chuckled, dropping your hands.

“I got carried away, apologies.”

The Dialis took your hand and then Marcus’ and joined them together again.

“Your hands are joined in the concordia, the mutual bond of affection and marriage. Now offer this bread to Jupiter.”

He held out a small piece of round bread to Marcus, who let go of your hand. With a grin, he broke the bread over your head, showering you with crumbs before offering you a piece to eat. The bread was dry but you smiled back at him as you chewed and swallowed it down as Marcus did the same.

The Dialis brought forward a tablet and you both signed the papyrus, marking your names to the contract that would now bind you together in Roman law. The last time it had felt like a death sentence, reluctantly scraping your pen over the surface. Now it felt like you were signing your release papers, setting you free from your father’s influence and becoming a part of Marcus’ family, his name now attached to yours. Marcus moved closer as you placed the pen on the table, his arm over your shoulder, as a sign to the crowd behind you that you were now under his protection.

Together you walked back down the stairs towards the carriage, the crowd had swelled and they cheered as they saw the patrician newlyweds. Again Marcus helped you up into the carriage and then waved at the crowd as his driver turned back up to the Palatine, this time returning to his villa.

The crowd followed you all the way back, continuing to shout blessings. When you performed the rituals of entering the house the first time as mistress of it, blessings of good omens showered over you. Marcus picked you up, lifting you into his arms with a big smile and carried you not just into the courtyard and house, but all the way into the reception hall, followed by Titus’ and his family and a few of Marcus’ closest officers who had been told at the last minute that the wedding was changing days.

The feast was a small affair, just as Marcus had promised you. Alba sat across from you at the best table together with Titus and Antonia while their children chatted away at another table. And although the food was excellent, and the wild stories about Marcus from his closest friends made you laugh until your sides ached, you wanted nothing more than for it to end so that you could have Marcus to yourself and perform the final part of the wedding ceremony.

But there was one detail that made you want to stay a little bit longer. A young man, only a few years older than Alba, caught your eye. He was looking at Alba with admiration as she told him about a weaving technique she’d been taught. For a young man to be so immersed in weaving could only mean one thing, and you carefully nudged Marcus to look in the man’s direction. He gave a low chuckle when he saw the way the boy seemed to hang on to Alba’s every word.

“Octavian Livius Catius,” he whispered close to your ear, “A junior in my army and Titus’ mentee. He comes from a fairly low birth but he has a good career in front of him, Alba could do much worse if she wishes to marry.”

“Is he a good man?” you asked, keeping your voice low as you tried to glance at the two of them without being seen.

“He is, Titus says he has good morals and a stable head, he’s fostering him to become a strategist too. And of course, since we’ve been away for two years, he’s well past the age most boys marry, I’m sure he’s looking for a future wife.”

“Only if Alba wants him,” you replied immediately, “She’s in my care and I won’t let her be married off without her consent.”

“I would expect nothing less, domina,” Marcus mumbled, pressing a kiss to your cheek, “Now, I think we have been polite enough to our guests, let’s leave.”

Taking your hand, he stood and pulled you to your feet as the small group of guests grew quiet.

“I’m now fortunate enough to call this incredible woman ‘my wife’, he said, addressing the room, “And it is time for our final ceremony and to honour the gods, to thank them for bringing us together and letting us have this happy day.”

He smiled down at you as he continued to speak, “Never could I have imagined that a chance meeting on a dark street would lead me to such a happy end. I’m still not convinced you’re not Venus stepped down among us mortals.”

You squeezed his hand and brought it to your lips for a kiss as you felt heat rise in your cheeks at his praise.

“Please, enjoy each other’s company, the wine, the food, have a glorious evening,” Marcus told the guests and then turned to you again, “Come, wife,” he smiled at the word, “let me untie the knot.”

Titus raised his glass and cheered, and the others joined in as Alba got to her feet and gave you a big hug, wrapping her arms tight around you.

“I’m so happy for you both,” she said and kissed your cheek.

“Thank you, my darling Alba,” you replied, “and his name is Octavian and Marcus says he’s a good man,” you added with a whisper in her ear, smiling as you pulled away and looked at her. Her cheeks went red as she giggled.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she grinned and gave you a little push, “Now go with your husband and tell me everything tomorrow.”

Behind you, you heard Marcus chuckle at Alba’s comment, and his hand took a firmer hold of yours. “I agree with your cousin, come now, carissime, I have waited long enough.”

He wrapped his arms around you as he guided you through the villa, towards one of the few rooms you had yet to see in what was now your new home; his private bedroom. It sat on the second floor and as the short December day was nearing the end, the sun glowed golden outside the windows. One of the servants had lit the oil lamps in the room and they filled it with a warm light, illuminating the warm colours of mosaics that decorated the walls. Thick rugs covered the floor and the bed was draped in soft looking blankets and pillows to warm against the cold night outside.

Marcus closed the door behind the two of you and let out a deep breath that made you turn towards him.

“Why such a deep sigh?” you asked and he gave you a small smile as he took your hand again and led you to the bed and sat down.

“It’s a relief to close the door, to finally have you to myself, as my wife,” he said, “I didn’t realise until yesterday how much I’d feared that something would hinder our wedding. But when your father turned up…” Marcus sighed again and rubbed a hand over his face, “I knew I had to act fast, I hope you didn’t mind the surprise this morning.”

You smiled at him and cupped his cheeks with both your hands, smoothing out his worried frown, “Not at all, if anything I’m delighted I didn’t have to wait another three days. Now, untie this knot and prove your virility,” you teased, “Antonia made it very tight so I hope you’re up for the task.”

Marcus laughed and took your hand, making you lie down in the middle of the bed as he sat next to you.

“I’d say you already know my virility is just fine enough,” he said, his smile turning more mischievous as he let his eyes roam over your body. The look in his eyes made your skin tingle and you sighed when he finally put his hands on you properly and caressed your curves. He toyed with the belt, tugging at it to pull you closer as he leaned forward.

“Marcus….” you said, your voice a low whine when he pressed his lips to your cheek instead of your lips, his hands still not touching the knot.

“Patience, domina,” he hummed, pulling away and getting to his feet, his eyes darker now.

With slow, practised movements he unwound the long toga from around his body, laying it on the seat next to the bed, loosening his belt and caligae next. When he pulled the tunic over his head, you held your breath, it had been so long since you last saw him fully naked and standing tall in front of you. He was just as glorious as the first time, his strong body littered with scars, his posture proud and powerful like the statues of Mars in the temple.

He smirked at the way your hungry eyes drifted across his body, from his wide shoulders, over his chest and down to where his heavy cock was rapidly growing. When he put his knee on the bed and crawled over your body, your insides squirmed and his grin widened. He knew the effect he was having on you and he planned on taking it slow on this first time as a married couple.

“Domina…” he all but purred, lowering himself onto his forearms and caging you underneath him. You were still fully clothed and writhing with impatience as he dipped his mouth to your neck, his tongue slipping out to taste the sensitive skin under your ear, a wet kiss following.

“Marcus…” you pleaded again as he moved further down your body, his hands caressing and kneading as his teeth nipped through the thin fabric of your stola.

“Patience is a virtue, mi amor,” he replied, and you could hear the smile in his voice against your breasts.

Your breath was coming in short huffs, and you struggled to stay still, as he reached the knot in your belt. He was kissing your body around the knot, through the fabric, his hands stroking your thighs, reaching up under the stola and grabbing at your hips. His body was nestled between your legs but still he wasn’t touching you where you needed him the most, and with an impatient whine, you arched yourself up against him, seeking any friction.

Marcus growled, and grabbed both your hips, pinning you down with his weight, “Patience…” he smirked.

He began to mouth at the ornate knot in your belt, keeping you where he wanted you with a strong grip. The edge of the stola was pressed into your core by his firm chest and you could feel how you’d soaked through your undergarments already. With a moan you reached down and grabbed at Marcus’ bare shoulders, urging him to move faster even though you knew he was intent on taking it at his own slow pace tonight.

When you glanced down to see him stretched out between your legs, you were met by the sight of the strong planes of his back working as he held you down, his teeth grabbing the knot and pulling it loose. With a wicked grin he flashed you a look, before he began to work the stola up over your hips, the belt falling loose to the sides.

He pushed up to his knees and pulled the stola with him, finally freeing you of it as it slipped over your head. With an impatient wave you tossed it over the side of the bed and reached up for Marcus again, willing him to kiss you and sink his hard cock into you, you could feel the heated drag of it over your thigh. But he ignored your hands, instead he grabbed your thighs and spread them, sinking down with his eyes fixed on your centre.

“Carissime, I’ve missed this sight,” he hummed, slowly dragging a finger through your slick folds, reaching the aching pearl at the top and circling it as he looked up at you. Your eyebrows were drawn together, your mouth open and panting. It made his cock twitch to see you so laid out for him, and with all the time in the world to pull you apart and make you cry his name in pleasure.

Your warm thigh rested on his shoulder as he leaned in closer, brushing his nose over your soft curls and tasting the salty liquid. A shuddering breath left your lungs as you seemed to melt into the bed at the sensation, and Marcus licked a wide stripe up your centre, making you gasp again.

His fingers spread you open, making more room for his tongue, and methodically he began to explore your cunt in earnest, taking the time he hadn’t had on the night of Bona Dea. Every sound you made, your whimpered pleas and moaned cries of his name, it made him try even harder, his own arousal aching and pressed against the bed. Your hands found his hair and he groaned when you pulled him closer, burying his face in your cunt, driving his tongue in as deep as he could while you made his nose rub against the swollen nub at the apex of your sex.

“Marcus…please….” you panted, your skin flushed and hot as you felt yourself begin to crest the wave he was building up.

“Carissime, you taste so good,” he mumbled into your flesh, moving his tongue up to lap at your most sensitive part, “so sweet and delicate, my wife’s perfect cunt.”

With a deep breath he began to suck at the puffy button, his fingers digging into your thighs and pushing them wide, burying his face between your legs with a growl.

His mouth seemed to be making red hot flames shoot out through your body, your hands tightening their grip on his curls as shockwaves rocked through your limbs. Crying out, you threw your head back, his name the only word you could muster and each lick and suck from Marcus brought fresh moans of pleasure from you until your throat felt raw and dry. He was working you into hysteria where all that existed was his mouth and the way he made your body sing.

You pulled tight like a bow string and with a strangled cry of his name, you snapped, sobbing as Marcus continued to lick and suck at your cunt, clenching around nothing. Your body was begging for him to fill you up as the orgasm coursed through you, but your mind couldn’t find the words, there were only stars streaming across your field of vision as your body shook and trembled under his tongue.

Panting hard you finally fell back against the bed, your taught body relaxing in Marcus grip and he gave your folds a few soft kisses before he pulled back. With a low chuckle, he nuzzled your thigh, trailing sticky kisses across the hot skin as he made his way up to lie next to you.

“My sweet wife…are you still with me? Do you think you’re wet enough to take my cock now?” he smiled as he pressed kisses to your cheek and you wrapped your arms around his shoulders. Your body felt like liquid and Marcus chuckled again as you smiled back up at him with half closed eyes, unable to form a coherent response yet.

“It seems I did a proper job as husband,” he said, letting you pull him closer, “Are you satisfied, wife?”

“No, husband,” you replied, seeking his mouth out for a slow kiss, “You did good, but I know how good it feels to have you fill me up, and now nothing else will do.”

Marcus smiled and caressed your cheek as he moved to cage you under his wide shoulders again, your arms around his neck.

“I want to take you slowly, feel every part of it,” he said in a low voice as you spread your legs to make room for him, the weight of his cock pressed against your core, “feel your kisses when I fuck you deep into our bed, feel every tremble in your body as I fill you up again and again, keep you here underneath me until we forget everything except this.”

He rolled his hips, the fat tip of his cock catching against your opening, making you both hiss.

“Nothing exists except you, Marcus,” you whispered, cupping his face between your palms as he moved again. The head of his cock breached your tight hole and you could feel his jaws clench under your hands, a tight breath escaping him.

“You feel so good, Marcus, amica meus,” you mumbled, caressing his soft beard, tracing your thumb over his plush lips. The feel of him slowly pushing inside made your core clench, your hips trying to rise up to meet him, but his heavy weight kept you pinned underneath him, your legs locked around his waist. With a groan he squeezed his eyes shut and drove himself in to the hilt, the liquid heat of your tight cunt closing around him.

“Gods, domina…” he panted, “keep me in your bed and let me fuck you, let me always feel this tight cunt around my cock, it’s all I ask, and I’ll be the happiest man in the world…” he rambled. “So tight and wet and hot, my sweet wife’s cunt has me on my knees until it milks me dry…”

He slid out and drove himself in again with a loud groan, his arms wrapping around your shoulders as he buried his face against your neck, “Goddess…” he moaned and you felt his mouth suck at your skin as he rocked himself into you, his cock filling you up and making you gasp every time he sheathed himself fully.

Your hands grabbed at his back, his golden skin warm and damp to the touch as you dug your fingers into his tightly wound muscles. Over you he was unravelling, mumbling into your neck between kisses and bites, his control slipping as he continued to fuck you, lost in his own haze of lust. He came up for a deep breath of air and leaned his forehead against yours, his dark brown eyes locked on yours as his hips continued to thrust his hard cock into you, your breaths mingling as you both gasped at each impact.

“Amica mea, I love you, my wife, I can’t believe you're finally my wife,” he mumbled, his hands gripping your shoulders and pulling you down on to him again and again.

“I love you too. My husband,” you whispered between gasps, “amica meus, semper.”

Marcus pressed his mouth to yours, his tongue slipping between your lips as he picked up his pace, and you squeezed your legs tight around his waist. The coarse hairs around his cock were rubbing against your swollen pearl, each slide making sparks ignite and shoot out all the way to your fingertips, even your toes were curling at the impact of his cock deep inside your weeping cunt.

The pace grew frantic, Marcus groaned loudly, pressing his mouth against yours as his body began to tremble, he was gasping, slamming his cock into you, chasing his release as you cried out underneath him. He was hitting a new spot deep inside, new stars appeared in your field of vision but you tried to keep your eyes open and watch your husband as he began to come undone. His eyebrows pulled tight, his hips stuttering into yours, he dug his fingers almost painfully hard into your shoulders as he grimaced and cried out. With a loud shout he slammed into your cunt a final time, grinding deep inside as your own climax hit again. He rolled his hips over yours, milking himself and pushing you through each wave of pleasure as it washed over your bodies.

He was heavy on top as he finally relaxed, his body hot and sticky with your arms and legs wrapped around him. He could feel your hands begin caress him, slowly bringing him back from the haze that had taken over his mind as he finally let go and fucked you as hard as he needed too. The heavy thumping of his heart echoed in his ears and he knew he should move, but you didn’t seem to mind his body pushing you into the mattress. So instead he turned his head and leaned his cheek against your chest, his softening cock slipping out, making him hiss. He felt you press a kiss to the top of his head, his hair damp, and your fingers raked carefully across his scalp.

“You make me happy, Marcus,” you mumbled against his soft curls, “so happy.”

He sighed against your warm skin, a long, content exhale, “Then I’m happy too, carissime.”

With another sigh he pushed himself up on his forearms, smiling down at you underneath him. His hair was a halo of dark curls, his eyes soft and warm, and you cupped his cheeks and pulled him down for another kiss. Your lips felt swollen and tender but you still moaned with satisfaction when he licked into your mouth and deepened the kiss. It took several long moments before you both were satiated again and he carefully rolled off you and got out of the bed.

“Let me clean us both off, I’m too tired to go to the thermae now,” he said, going over to the wash basin and picking up one of the washcloths.

Your body felt loose and almost as if in a liquid state as he began to gently wipe the cool cloth over your skin. You hummed and smiled at him as he paid extra attention to the white liquid slowly dripping from between your legs.

“Proud of your work, husband?” you teased him and he chuckled, running the cloth between your legs again and making sure to apply just a little bit too much pressure to your most sensitive area. You hissed and arched against his hand.

“If I was a younger man, the sight would make me hard enough to do it again,” he replied, grabbing at your hips to make you spread your legs for him, “such a perfect cunt…”

He smiled at you and began to wipe himself down, running the cloth over his soft cock as you admired the sight.

“Next time, I want to do that,” you said, watching as he pulled back the skin to clean himself.

“Next time, I want your mouth around it,” he replied, and the look that he gave you, made heat shot through you again.

Marcus grinned and tossed the washcloth to the side and crawled into bed, pulling the covers over you both this time. His body was warm and firm as he made space for you, his arms pulling you into his chest.

“We have all the time in the world now, carissime,” he said, his lips close to yours as you looked up at him, “And I intended to make good on my promise to keep you in my bed night and day.”

“I only have one more thing that’s going to make me leave this bed,” you said, smiling at his confused look and pressing your lips to his when he opened them to ask.

“Later,” you mumbled, “now I want more kisses from my husband.”

Marcus chuckled and you could feel the rumble in his chest, “Anything for you, wife.”

The people going about their daily business outside the great structure of Circus Maximus may have stopped and looked an extra time as the patrician carriage drew to a halt outside the wall of the nearby temple. The general who stepped out was dressed in his formal armour, the white and gold shimmering under the bright sky. The woman he helped down with a gentle hold on her hand, was dressed in a similarly rich stola, the veil loosely wrapped around her head but leaving her face bare.

“Here we are, carissime,” Marcus said, putting his arm around your waist and leading you to the entrance of the temple, “I’ll be waiting outside, let Bona Dea know I’m forever her servant too and that I apologise for delaying our visit to her temple for a full two weeks.”

“I will, my love,” you smiled at him, “And I’m sure she understands that newlyweds have trouble leaving the house. I only wish you could be allowed inside the temple too.”

“The rules of Bona Dea must be obeyed,” he laughed, “I learnt that in the best way possible.”

You laughed with him and gave him a quick peck on his smiling lips, before leaving him behind and entering the temple grounds.

Alba followed close behind as the vestal virgin returned your bows, and then led you up the stairs and into the sacred rooms. In the package you carried were cakes and breads you’d made yourself that very morning, using the best ingredients that could be found in the market. Alba carried an amphora of olive oil, and one of wine, the finest Marcus had in his storage, and as you reached the great altar, you both placed your offerings on the ground.

The priestesses began the rituals and you gazed up at the marble statue standing tall behind the altar. The cornucopia in her left arm was overflowing, a symbol of her generosity, and in her right was a bowl, a snake feeding from it, a sign of her healing powers. The goddess had certainly been both generous and healing when dealing with you and Marcus, and it was time to repay her and honour her influence.

“I thought I was trapped in a loveless marriage for the rest of my life,” you said, looking up at Bona Dea, “No children to distract me, just a vile man who blamed me for my barren womb, and made me question why I should even wake up each morning. But you brought Marcus into my life and steered his actions, making it possible for us to be together as husband and wife. And for this, both him and I will forever be your most humble servants.”

The priestess tossed the bread and the cakes into the sacrificial flames, making it hiss and spit as Bona Dea accepted your gifts.

“And I have one final prayer for you, Bona Dea,” you said, kneeling down as Alba looked on in surprise.

The cool marble of the floor was smooth under your forehead as you prostrated yourself fully at the feet of the goddess. You closed your eyes and sent up a silent prayer, the smoke of the sacrifice in your nose, the silence of the temple heavy in your ears. The gods had never spoken to you, but as you sent up your plea to the one who seemed to have seen you at your most miserable, and sent a saviour, a calm came over you, a sense of completion.

You took a few deep breaths, holding back the tears that were threatening to spill, and then sat up onto your heels.

“Thank you.”

The sunlight was still sharp as you left the temple, and you pulled up your veil to shield your eyes. Marcus was standing next to the carriage with his hands clasped behind his back, his posture straight. You had come to recognise this as his ‘public persona’, the powerful general who expected everyone to obey him. In private, he softened whenever you were near, and became the Marcus you loved more with every minute that passed.

“Carissime,” he smiled as you and Alba came out from the temple gates, “all done?”

“Yes, husband, the goddess accepted our sacrifice and the priestesses seemed most pleased with the generous contribution.”

You took his hand and held him back as Alba stepped into the carriage.

“Bona Dea has given us another gift,” you whispered, and he raised his eyebrows in question as he leaned closer to you.

“Another gift?” he asked and you brought his hand to the front of your stola, his eyes widening.

“I always thought I was barren, but now someone grows inside me thanks to her healing powers.”

Marcus stepped closer, his arms going around your waist as he pressed his palm across your belly as if he could already feel the heartbeat of the child within.

“Truly?” he whispered, his wide eyes filled with hope.

“I’ve missed my courses twice since our first night, it’s still early days, but yes, truly,” you smiled up at him.

“Carissime…” he whispered again, bringing his hands up to cup your face, pressing his lips to yours, “I thought I couldn’t be happier but now I feel like my heart will explode.”

He pulled back a little, you could feel tears spilling over and rolling onto your cheeks, and he wiped at them with his thumbs.

“Are you happy, amica mea?”

“Yes, Marcus, you make me very happy,” you smiled through your tears, “And it makes me even happier to have a new family with you.”

“A new family,” he hummed, pressing kisses to your face and lips, “a new family with my beautiful wife and our beautiful child.”

He smiled and kissed you again before taking your hand, “Now let me take you home and spoil you rotten while you care for our child, she already holds my heart in her tiny hands.”

“‘She’?” you asked curiously, and Marcus laughed, a bright smile lighting his eyes.

“I’m certain Bona Dea will give me a daughter as beautiful and strong as her mother, so that I can live the rest of my life worshipping two incredible women,” he replied, still smiling, “That will be my lot in life, my heart held captive by the two of you.”

“You are the most wonderful husband and you will make the most wonderful father, Marcus,” you said, tears welling up in your eyes again as Marcus smiled and wiped your cheeks.

“My sweet wife, carissime,” he said, placing his palm on your belly again, his touch gentle and warm as if he was already cradling his daughter, “I would give up every title the emperors have bestowed on me only to keep two.”

He kissed your left cheek and then the right, his soft lips brushing gently over your tears.

“Your husband, and her father.”

Tagging some lovely people who showered the first four parts with love: @gothcsz @missladym1981 @txlady37 @timelordfreya @bluesweaters15

@indiegirlunited @jessthebaker @likeficinthewnd @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @inept-the-magnificent

@angiewatson @wintersquirrel @sheepdogchick3 @asobeeee @harriedandharassed @cozylittlepigeon

@i-own-loki @pedrit0-pascalit0 @lady-bess

#marcus acacius #marcus acacias x reader #marcus acacius fanfiction #marcus acacius smut #pedro pascal fanfiction

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fancyfeathers · 9 months ago

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Idea sorta came from @yandere-wishes with Neuvillette having a ballerina darling so credit goes to them for this idea

(A/N- I love when ballet is romanticized, one of my fav things in media, especially since that is what inspired me to become a ballerina. This little idea has darker historical undertones where ballerina at the Paris opera were sort of “entertainment” for the elite after performances. They did this to get money to pay for shoes, room and board, and sometimes these nobles would help them get better roles and teachers for the ballerinas. Ballet these days is much different but it helps if you know the history behind it. Along with that, it will show how painful ballet really is, pretty but painful. All of that said I love this concept and as a ballerina I love my job and would not trade it for anything besides my girlfriend/fiancé, because she is the world to me)

(This short film, LOUISE, displays what the reality of that situation was. Trigger warning, it is dark and has sensitive topics that I mentioned above along with sexual acts and non sexual nudity, but it is very well done, but definitely not for minors.)

Neuvillette would see, not yet meet, his darling for the first time when Lady Furina dragged him along to see a ballet at the Opera House. She was one of the stars of the show that evening, and she was so incredibly beautiful, her movements like glowing water from a creek, soft and flowing from step to step. He would be enamored with her at the first sight, but not yet have the chance to talk to her since after the show she was swept up by the crowd wanting to talk to her after the show. He would go to every show, falling more and more in love with her every time, and every time he would try to go and talk to her but every time she would get swept up in the crowd. Eventually, he decides he’ll go to her dressing room right after the show to meet her personally and hand her the bouquet of flowers Lady Furina had told him to give to her. When he arrives at her dressing room there is talk from inside the door, and he listens in…

“Monsieur, I am afraid I cannot accompany you tonight, my little-“

“I thought you wanted those lessons I promised? It is not every day you get an opportunity like this.”

“Monsieur, please I am so tired-“

“I’ll be outside the opera house, don’t keep me waiting.”

Neuvillette stands there as the man who addressed his darling walks out of her room, a noble, he shoots a glance at Neuvillette but says nothing to the Chief Justice. The door was open to reveal his darling sitting at her vanity, her eyes pained but went wide once she was the Iudex of Fontaine there, holding a bouquet of flowers for her. She stands up before him and offers him somewhat of a curtsy in her panicked state.

“Monsieur, forgive me, I did not know you were there. Is there anything you would like?”

Her voice is terrified as she addresses him and he can feel his heart ache at seeing her like this. There are tear stains on her face to show she had been crying before he came here. He steps forward, into her dressing room and sets the bouquet down, and he quickly notices how many other flowers are in the room alongside his own, but all the others have little notes with them, and when the Iudex reads them it makes him feel disgusted. What was going on here?

“I would like your company.”

“I… I apologize Monsieur, I am already taken for tonight and I am afraid I am too tired for another, my feet are already blistering and-“

“No, I just wish to talk to you.”

“You do?”

And he does, but he does not yet ask about what happens behind closed doors just yet, wanting to gain her trust. He makes a point to come to her dressing room even at night after a performance and gets there first, after all, who would want to bother the Iudex? He soon gains her trust and asks what really happened that night and she explains everything. This is what it is like for the dancers here, a constant cycle that none of them can get out of, if they refuse them they will destroy her so she has no choice but to accept, no matter how much pain she is in after a performance. Her dress doesn’t fit properly, but she can’t afford another so she just has to deal with not being able to breathe. Her shoes are a size too big so she has to tie them even tighter so they don’t come off which just leads to blisters and her toes bruising against the point every time she lands.

He holds her in her dressing room while she cries in his arms. She just wants all the pain to end, it hurts too much…

Not a week later, the owners of the ballet company are called to court for their business malpractices, and they are found guilty. She is left without a job now, but a friend who is the Iudex of Fontaine and is more than willing to take her in.

#yandere neuvillette x reader #yandere neuvillette #yandere genshin #yandere genshin x reader #yandere genshin imagines #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x you

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brittle-doughie · 10 months ago

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Let’s Get Rolling! | Looking into the Lights, Camera, Action! Event for CROB!

So the movie nerd, Popcorn Cookie, isn’t going to the Chocolate Factory with that golden ticket, but to see the filming site for what Butter Squid Cookie has got cooking up.

Only issue is that the actress is unable to make it to the set, leaving the stunt double, Choco Bar Cookie, to get the lead role! So for the event itself, it’s essentially the exact same event we’ve had for the last few updates, get and do favors as well as combine items for hard mode.

So the special draw event returns from the Wish Camp update, except this time there’s also a surprise exchange shop that allows you to get outfits or designs that you missed in past updates!

Choco Bar Cookie herself is pretty cute, would definitely add her to my wife collection and if her base design isn’t sitting well with you, hopefully her skin more then makes up for it because oh my lord-

Shine Muscat, Habanero, and Blue Slushy Cookie also get skins too. With Popcorn Cookie getting a fabulous skin in part 2!

Buttercream Choco Cookie has finally returned by the Buddy event! Bring your buddies to play the mode to obtain him!

In the Romance stage, who is this lady we’re chasing and how did I get the devs to put her in my game. In the Zombie stage, we meet some familiar walkers, where have I seen them before…?

Overall, they were not lying when they said that this would help a substantial update, there are so many things to look forward to that it might leave you overwhelmed! MicMac has addressed the event repetition in the official discord, hopefully, we can see a return to varied event modes some day.

———————————————————————

Busy chasing your co-star through the stage, following after the one you love was the pinnacle of romantic excitement in the eyes of Butter Squid Cookie!

“Come follow, my love! Have a little encouragement from me!”

She blew you a kiss in the form of a small heart that floated towards you. You went to get it promptly, feeling more encouraged to follow your heart that had your co-star in it! (In the premise of the movie of course)

Butter Squid Cookie was pleased with the results he was seeing so far, such warm love between two cookies that was sure to bring a tear to the eyes of audiences! He had to give you credit, for someone unfamiliar with acting, you were a natural!

But now time for the big moment! You were now supposed to catch your co-star and give each other the declaration of love and then a kiss!

Choco Bar Cookie got a little nervous with that plan, was it really necessary? The kiss part? Why not just a hug, you know? That would get the message across just fine. There was no need to be all theatrical all the time, you know?

Butter Squid saw her suggestion as nonsense, a kiss was the only way to execute the romantic tension flawlessly!

You told your co-star that she made your heart flutter, that no other cookie made you feel this way, that you wanted to spend your life with her.

Your co-star blushed heavily from your words, that was some pretty good on command blushing!

“Oh, my Y/N Cookie! My heart can’t stand being apart from you either! Please, let me be the cookie you love now and forever!”

The two of you leaned in, getting closer and closer, you see her eyes twinkle as she closed them, readying her lips as you did the same…

Before a director chair is thrown between you two!

Scaring you both faraway from each other. Butter Squid looked at Choco Bar with shock as she breathed heavy, having just thrown that chair a second ago.

“Sorry. My hands slipped.”

#brittle speaks #cookie run ovenbreak #cr ovenbreak #crob #cookie run x you #cookie run x reader #cr x reader #cookie run #crob x you #crob x reader #cookie run ovenbreak x reader

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the-desilittle-bird · 6 months ago

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Hi,

do you still take Gellert Grindelwald requests? If you do, could you please write a fanfic, where the reader is Newt‘s best friend (a bit younger than him) and is also relativly close with Dumbledore. She meets Grindelwald during his escape, with her being one of the aurors. (At the beginning of the 2nd film) At first she despises him, but slowly starts warming up. Newt and Dumbledore often try to save her (she also tried to escape in the beginning), but in the end (after FB 2) she chooses Grindelwald over them. Smut in the end?If you are comfortable with it.

Thank you for considering

AN - Yep! I still love that old and beautiful man and god knows how long I have not been on this platform. I forgot my password and what not so sorry for the dead silence. Hope you like this.

Enjoy your Read and Thank You!

Requests are Open!!!

Be By My Side

Gellert Grindelwald x Fem!Reader

Summary - What happens when Y/N finds herself on a crossroad and needs to decide between her best friend and the ultimate love of her life?

Warnings - You asked for smut, and you will get it (please pardon me if it's bad, its my first or second time) (Breeding Kink and Dirty Talk). Gellert Grindelwald (He requires his own warning).

Tag List - @lady-athanasia, @littlesatanicassholebitch, @eudximoniakr, @hyacinthus007, @shopping, @choccocake, @andlizeth, @lady-juliettes, @blackhoodlea, @omgsuperstarg, @killing-gremlin, @narcy, @targaryenmoony, @moon-light1415, @thatgirlthatreadswattpad

GIF Credit goes to @grindeldore-is-real

Y/N FOUND HERSELF STARING AT THE BLUE FLAMES WITH WIDE EYES AND A RACING HEART. This was it, she thought to herself as she watched the loyal followers of the blonde man step through the circle of fire and disappear. Perhaps to Nurmengard, she assumed.

The past few weeks raced through her mind, memories turning her mind dizzy as she was overwhelmed by the burden of the choice that weighed her down; turning her body to stone.

Months ago, had she been told that she would need to choose between Newt, her best and probably the only friend who had ever stood by her side, and Gellert Grindelwald, the dark wizard she was supposed to catch. She would have chosen her best friend and had allowed her former professor's words to sink deep into her. But now, she felt her mind and heart conflicting.

Don't choose a man who is capable of destroying you, Dumbledore had said on the day she had graduated from Hogwarts and started her job as an Auror. Probably he knew that she had a liking for questionably type of men, or perhaps he could see future; Y/N doesn't know.

"Y/N/N." Newt's scream fell on deaf ears as the young girl remained locked in her own memories. Remembering the first argument she had with the Master of Elder Wand, having pointed her own wand to his face while he had not even flinched. Perhaps he knew that she would never harm him or kill him. She was not allowed to.

The young Auror could remember the day vividly when she had tried to escape her prison, caught only due to the cold winds and the snow. I do not wish to harm you, I never will, he had said, carefully placing his wand on the snow, disarming himself to comfort her. You are a liar, she had argued only to earn a smile and a deep chuckle.

If I had lied to you, then I can assure you that this moment would have never happened. He was right, she knew in her heart. Gellert Grindelwald was a master of words; had he truly ever wished to trap her, he would have already.

The gentle brush of his lips against her was still fresh in her mind. A deep hum from his throat, a moan from hers. One hand sliding down her sides to hold her against himself while the other pursued its way into her hair.

The electric tinge she had felt was unique, something she had never heard of. The same could have been said for her heart skipping a beat or the butterflies in her stomach, but was it really unheard of? No. Those were all indications to a revelation she wished not to see. But how long could she run away from the truth?

"Y/N," the rumble of Gellert's deep voice made her open her closed eyes, inhaling sharply as she felt every pair of eyes present watching her. But above all, the mismatched eyes of her lover watched her with a tilt of his head.

He took a step, and again, and again. He approached her, never letting go of her eyes as he walked up the stairs. His hand was outstretched, empty; waiting for hers patiently.

"Come join me, beloved," he whispered, making the girl gulp as her eyes trailed off to her best friend who watched her with desperation. 'Don't,' she saw him mouthing, but her mind could no longer register anything, frozen in a single place.

Gellert's lips brushed against the outer shell of her ear, eliciting a deep moan which made him chuckle. His hand cupped the side of her face while he whispered: "Be by my side. Be my Queen."

All the thoughts vanished from her mind, leaving behind only a single man in focus. One who had platinum locks and mismatched eyes which resembled so much like his own personality. The man who stood in front of her, waiting for her to say the word, to give him the consent.

"Yes."

Silk sheets covered her bare body from the preying eyes of her lover, whose fingers drew patterns on her back while she slept peacefully. The soft glow of the first sunlight entered the bedroom, filling it with a golden glow.

Y/N hummed to herself, snuggling deep into the arms of Gellert who smiled down at her; a smile reserved specially for her. His fingers deliberately moved south, running along her spine before they moved to touch her thighs.

His fingers were calloused, rough, against her skin. Creating the perfect sensation that had her moaning prettily into his shoulder. A light flush painted the skin of her neck and cheeks, touching the tips of her ear as she tried to hide herself in the crook of his neck.

"How pure," he whispered with a smirk, his fingers teasing her folds, gathering the moisture that had coated her lips. Another moan left her lips involuntarily as the pad of his thumb came in contact with her clit, rubbing a slow circle that had her withering.

"Yet so desperate," he growled, retrieving his hand as he flipped them. His eyes watched with amusement as the girl underneath him flustered pink at his words.

She leaned up, chasing his lips into a shy kiss that had Gellert groaning as his hips snapped against her. His hand moved eagerly, intertwining with her hair before tugging her back, baring her neck. The sight of purple bruises and bites had him grow harder as he nipped on the skin on her collarbone.

"Gellert," she moaned, hands shooting off to tug at his disheveled hair. "Please," she mewled, moving her hips desperately. With a smirk plastered on his angular face, the wizard taunted, "what do you want, rabbit?"

The cry that left her satisfied him enough as he slowly settled inside her, grunting at the feel of her insides squeezing him. A broken moan left Y/N as a single tear rolled down her cheek, her nails digging into his back as she forced herself to relax around his length.

Moments after, the entire room was filled with loud sound of moans and grunts and the peculiar sound of skin slapping against skin. Filthy words escaped Gellert's mouth as he praised her while pounding deep into her.

"Such an obedient little girl. A perfect slut. So tight, so pure, so innocent. The perfect little wife. Should I make you a mother? Would you like that? Carrying my child. I feel you clinging around me, seems that you like that idea."

The sunshine filled the entire room in a holy glow as Gellert and Y/N cummed on the same time. Breath labored, both of them slumped against each other, foreheads pressed together as they came down from their peaks.

"I love you," she whispered, the words almost lost between the heavy pants. But Gellert heard them anyway, and with a smile and a light heart, he whispered the words back.

"I love you too, beloved."

#gellert grindelwald x reader #gellert grindelwald #johnny depp x reader #gellert grindelwald x fem!reader #gellert grindelwald smut

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superiorsturgeon · 11 months ago

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How would your favorite jaune ship react to Adrian crawling onto their laps and calling them auntie?

Pyrrha: *wearing a nice dress and politely sitting on the couch in the Cotta-Arc residence as her hosts prepare tea/snacks*

Pyrrha: *blows out a big breath* Okay, so far so good! I’ve met Jaune’s sister and her wife, I’m wearing my nice-but-casual dress, and I haven’t made any mistakes or said anything embarrassing! 😮‍💨

Pyrrha: *feels something touch her knee*

Pyrrha: *looks down* 😕 ???

Adrian: *sitting on the floor beside the couch, sizing up the strange red-hair lady who came to visit with his uncle*

Pyrrha: Um…h-hello, little boy…?

Pyrrha: Oh, I hoped Jaune or his sister or her wife would be here when I met his nephew! I feel so awkward! 😰

Adrian: *raises his little hands and looks Pyrrha in the eye* 🤨

Pyrrha: Do…do you want up…?

Adrian: 🥺

Pyrrha: Um…okay, let me just…? *uncomfortably lifts Adrian under his arms and sets him on the couch beside her*

Pyrrha: T-that’s what you wanted, r-right?

Adrian: 😠

Adrian: *determinedly crawls into Pyrrha’s lap* Aun-ee!

Pyrrha: …wait…

Pyrrha: …did you just say…?

Adrian: *nestles into Pyrrha and grabs at her hand with his little fingers* Aun-ee! 😃

Pyrrha: 🫢

———————————————————————

Jaune: *in the Cotta-Arc kitchen, arranging snacks on a tray* Thanks for being chill with Pyrrha, Saph. Don’t tell her I told you, but she was so nervous on the way here that she almost made herself sick.

Saphron: No problem, baby bro! I know it’s scary meeting the family! *takes tray and steps through the kitchen door*

Saphron: *stops short*

Saphron: *leans back to the kitchen* Psst, Jaune! Come see what your girlfriend is doing!

Jaune: *looks over Saphron’s shoulder*

Pyrrha: *sitting on the couch with Adrian in her lap* Good job! Can you say it again? 😄

Adrian: Aun-ee! Aun-ee Py-ah! 😆

Pyrrha: That’s right! I’m your auntie Pyrrha! You’re so smart! Want me to make the bullhead fly again? *her hand glows black and Adrian’s toy bullhead lifts up and floats around*

Adrian: *squeals with laughter*

Jaune: *filming on his scroll* Oh my GODS…!

@cheeseater2 thanks for the ask! This is an especially fun one for me because I just met my infant nephew for the first time this week and, like Pyrrha, I was SUPER awkward at first! We’ve reached an understanding now!

#rwby #jaune arc #pyrrha nikos #adrian terra cotta arc #saphron arc #arkos #jaune x pyrrha #jaune arc x pyrrha nikos #sturgeon asks #cheeseater2

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downthe-f4ndom-rabbith0le · 2 years ago

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My Wonder (Spencer Reid x Reader)

My Wonder (Spencer Reid x Reader) Word Count: 14,842 Reader insert: she/her pronouns. She is not American unless you are, just has a previous history in American law enforcement. Warnings: mentions of murder, crime scenes, guns, near-death experiences, slow-burn romance, drug addiction, death, and some MAJOR FLUFF! Spoilers: none, as Criminal Minds has been out for literal decades so don't get mad.

All his life, Dr. Spencer Reid has been told he is a genius - gifted, different. When you, a new member of the BAU, arrive, he expects the same weirded-out reaction from you as everyone does. But when you don't, and you instead find him interesting, Spencer finds himself forming an attachment to you. And as the years go on, is it really any wonder that he falls for you?

This is six times you secretly say I love you to Spencer, and one time he says it back in the same fashion.

This man has been eating my brain alive for the past few weeks and I know I'm late but damn he deserves all the appreciation he gets. This was just a silly little idea I had because I'm the kind of person to get obsessed quickly and can't move on until I write it out of my system. Seeing how long this turned out, I have split each moment into six smaller, digestible chapters as linked below. Enjoy xx

Spencer Reid was performing some of his physics magic for his colleagues when he first saw you.

He'd just mixed up some water with an antacid tablet and placed within a film canister. He'd done it a hundred times on his own, but he'd only just joined the BAU two months ago, and JJ and Derek hadn't seen it before so he just had to do it. Quickly placing the lid on, he said, 'You can turn around now.'

'I don't understand why we had to in the first place,' Derek said as he grumpily turned around.

'A magician never tells his secrets,' Spencer said, rubbing his hands gleefully. To him, showing off his intellect never got boring.

Well, show off wasn't the proper term. He understood that he could be a lot for some people, knowing so much for a man in his early twenties that looked barely old enough to be out of school, let alone with three Bachelors and PHDs under his belt already. Spouting little known facts or remembering minute details about cases that went back thirty to forty years was just his way of expressing himself. It was his way of contributing to the team. And while his team was getting used to his ramblings and intellect, even demonstrated admiration for it, others would call him a freak.

'If you ask me,' JJ said, 'I wouldn't want to know how he does some things.'

'Fair,' Derek replied, all their eyes on the film canister.

Spencer watched it in anticipation, how the bubbles slipped out between the lid and the canister slowly at first, then started bubbling faster and bigger and-

POP!

The canister rocketed up towards the roof, and all three of them watched with wide eyes as it arced over the bullpen and then down to meet the-

'Ow!'

Spencer ducked into his chair as he watched a young lady in a loose button up shirt, dress pants and boots pat her head. He heard JJ and Derek scurry away, but Spencer remained staring at the woman. Who is she? he thought, his eyes scanning over her.

Your (h/c) hair caught the sunlight, giving it a glow that had Spencer mesmerised. Your (s/c) skin shone with it, making your (e/c) eyes stand out most beautifully. And when you stood back up and made eye contact with him, canister in hand, he found himself frozen, unable to avoid the conclusion that he was the culprit.

'What is this, Reid?' Hotch said, walking up to his desk not looking the least bit impressed. 'Actually, don't answer that. Just don't do it again.'

'Sorry,' Spencer murmured out, a guilty smile stretching his lips slightly.

Hotch blew out a sigh. 'Never mind that now. I would like to introduce you to our new team member. Agent (Y/n) (L/n), a transfer from LA.'

Spencer finally realised that you had walked up with Hotch, and now that you were so close (literally standing a desk apart from one another), he was lost for words at how bright your smile was, and how beautiful you looked that way.

'So you're the one that thought my head was a good landing place for your little... rocket,' you said offering the film canister back, laughter dancing in your words.

It took Spencer a moment for him to realise you wanted him to take the canister back, so he scrambled to his feet, fingers fumbling for the canister. 'No, I-I was just showing how a-an antacid reacts with water, and how, put into a small, confined place, that can cause a chemical, gas-like reaction and cause it to exploded.'

'And launch it like a rocket?' you asked.

He paused as he watched your smile slip a little. Oh no. He'd done it again - made someone feel dumber than him. And while technically that was true, he never meant to make anyone feel like that.

'Y-Yeah?' he answered, awkwardness rising up in his throat, freezing his limbs, his brain.

But then suddenly your smile returned, melting his fear and doubt as you said, 'Cool! I've always loved chemistry. I actually did a Bachelor of Science with a major in archaeological science and a minor in chemistry before I started my BA in Criminology.'

'And now you're here,' he said, a soft smile of his own tugging at his lips.

You nodded, looking around what would now be your new home. 'And now I'm here.'

'Fascinating,' Spencer breathed out. He didn't mean to, but it made you smile more so he didn't mind. It suddenly occurred to him that he hadn't introduced himself. He struck out his arm, rigid as a board, and offered his hand. 'Sorry, I'm Dr. Spencer Reid.'

'Pleasure to meet you, doctor,' you said, taking his hand and shaking it firmly. You skin was as soft as it looked, Spencer noted. 'I very much look forward to working with you and the rest of the team as we go forward.'

'We've got a briefing in five minutes, Reid,' Hotch interrupted, moving to step away from the conversation. 'I'll introduce you to the rest of the team then, (L/n). And if I find you firing another film canister through the sky, Reid-'

'Yes, yes, sorry, no more rockets. Airspace Reid is officially grounded,' Spencer quickly replied, not wanting to get lectured like a twelve-year-old like he usually did.

Your tinkling laughter drew his attention back to you, and he was baffled by the wonderment dancing in your eyes as you looked at him. 'You are a wonder, Dr. Spencer Reid.'

'T-Thanks?' he replied, although he wasn't quite sure if you were making fun of him or not. Most people did if they didn't straight up tell him he was annoying.

Hotch walked away, but you remained for a moment, leaning in close to whisper, 'That's a good thing, by the way.'

'Oh. Right.'

You flashed him one last smile before following your new unit chief, falling back into easy conversation with him as you gracefully floated through the chaotic goings of the office. Spencer couldn't take his eyes off you as you did, in awe of your grace and poise, and how you didn't even stumble when you spoke with him. You were genuine, upfront and honest. You couldn't be much older than himself, he noted, perhaps even younger. He was used to being the baby of the team, but it looked like that would be changing.

The prospect of being able to connect with someone his own age sent an unfamiliar but not unwelcome flutter through his heart.

'Oh, you've got it bad.'

Spencer spun in his chair to see JJ and Derek standing behind him once more, watching him with knowing grins.

'What? What have I got?' he asked. 'I'm not sick... I don't think.'

JJ rolled her eyes and giggled as she walked away, Spencer just catching a quiet, 'This'll be fun,' as she did. But Derek walked closer, placing a firm hand on his shoulder, and that knowing grin stretched wider, more feline and cheeky.

'Don't worry, pretty boy,' he said. 'You'll figure it out soon. You're smart, right?'

'Well, smart isn't really the quite term for someone with an eidetic memory and an IQ of 187-'

'And pep talk is over,' Derek interrupted, abruptly walking away back to his desk and leaving Spencer in a disarray of emotions.

So he looked back to where you had gone, and found you speaking with Penelope, nodding enthusiastically to whatever she was talking to you about. But you weren't just being polite, you appeared genuinely interested in the conversation, even though Spencer noted you barely contributed to it.

'You are a wonder, Dr. Spencer Reid.'

All his life, Spencer had been told he was a genius - gifted, different. It had just become an effortless part of who he is. It was almost expected at this point to see weirded-out or overly-amazed expressions from people he didn't know. So why then, when you said that to him, did he feel happy about it?

He checked his watch. Almost briefing time. He got up from his seat and made his way to the briefing room where only a place beside you was available. Maybe he would find out soon enough.

It became a casual thing, for you to comment on how wonderful Dr. Spencer Reid was. Every day in the office, whenever you travelled to cases, even out in the field, sometimes in not-so-great situations.

It was only ever once, but you always managed to find something to say, 'You are a wonder, Dr Reid,' to him. Sometimes it was his full name, sometimes just doctor. Sometimes, he was just Spencer. Apart from JJ, you were the only one who ever really called him by his first name. Oddly enough for him, he liked it when he was just Spencer, not the Boy Genius or freak or computer.

But the next time you told him that and it meant something to him was ten months after he ended his drug addiction.

He sat at his desk in the bullpen finishing some paperwork, or at least attempting to. They'd just gotten back from a long and exhausting case and his brain (the very thing he knew he could always rely on) refused to coordinate with his hands and eyes. The information he wished to write out felt jammed at his fingers tips, appeared blurry in his vision.

'Gosh,' he breathed out, leaning back in his seat defeated as he rubbed at his tired eyes. No doubt black bags sagged beneath them.

It had been a long, exhausting case. The team had gone to Dallas to find a serial killer who'd been leaving a trail of dead doctors and pharmacists over the span of months which had suddenly turned into weeks, then days once the team joined the case.

The unsub had spiralled, devolved so to say, alluding to a psychotic break. But when they'd found him, he was not the malicious, sadistic person they'd first expected. Spencer was the first on the scene and had instead found a young man in his early twenties, not much younger than himself. All he'd wanted was some off-market narcotic that took away the pain from the physical abuse he received from his father.

And while Spencer's trauma was not the same, he couldn't help but see the parallels. When he'd looked the young man in the eyes, it was like looking into a mirror. All he saw was himself, drowning in his own trauma, his own fear, his own pain.

Spencer scoped the bullpen, suddenly noticing the silence. Not a single person was left. He then looked at his watch - half past ten. He hadn't noticed people leaving whatsoever. Not surprising considering his current state, his current condition.

Spencer slowly reached down to the bottom drawer of his desk, a sudden urge coursing through him to do so. Slowly again, almost hesitantly, he pulled it open and leafed through the many spare manilla folders that sat oddly in there until he reached the bottom.

It was just one vial, but just the mere sight of it sent relief rushing through Spencer. Dilaudid. He gently cradled it up to his eyes, admiring how the glass doors of the entrance became obscured as he looked through the transparent but murky liquid. After this case, what he wouldn't give to have a needle right now. Just one hit-

'Well, if it isn't Dr. Spencer Reid burning the midnight oil.'

Spencer almost dropped the vial as he scrambled to shove it deep into his pant pocket just as you appeared out of nowhere from the conference room.

'Sorry,' you said, an apologetic smile already on your lips. 'I didn't mean to startle you.'

'It's okay,' he replied as casually as possible. It was one thing to nearly be caught out by your colleague that you had an illegal narcotic you used to have an addiction for in your hand, but another when that colleague is one you've admired since the day you met. 'I was lost in thought, anyways.'

'Well just as well then. I can only imagine how depthless your brain must go with all that knowledge crammed in there.' You walked down the stairs to the floor of the bullpen and walked to him. You were still in your clothes from the past twenty-four hours, and your light makeup looked like it was lifting off your face like a second skin. Even your unrelenting smile seemed to sag with exhaustion.

Spencer straightened up in his seat, suddenly concerned. 'You okay, (Y/N)? You look-'

'Like trash?' you finished as you pulled up a chair of your own and sat in front of him. 'I have no doubt.'

Spencer looked behind your back into the conference room, his eyebrows furrowing when he spotted stacks of folders and loose paperwork spread across the table. 'That all yours?'

You looked back to the mess of words and paper you'd just escaped and sighed dramatically. 'Oh, yeah. Seems like the longer the case, the more paperwork you have to do. Poor trees.'

'Yeah...' Spencer found it odd how much paperwork you had to get through. Even he didn't have that much to get through. But before he could question you about it, your soft voice filled the damning void that surrounded him.

'How are you feeling, you know, after this case?'

'What do you mean?' he asked.

'Don't give me that,' you say, your smile now replaced by a seriousness Spencer only saw on you when you were making an arrest or in really dire situations. You've worked together for almost three years now, he knew all the faces you pulled, all of your likes and dislikes, how you liked your coffee only after you've completed one task for the day to prove you can survive without it but choose not to.

He knows you, so it should not be surprising that you know him just as well.

'The moment we found out the unsub's objective, you've been a little... off.'

'Well, it shouldn't be surprising considering that was me just ten months ago,' he said matter-of-factly, pulling back into his shell, putting up his guard. 'I mean, if Hotch hadn't have found out about it, that could've been me-'

'No it wouldn't have.'

Spencer scoffed, but not in a demeaning manner. He just didn't believe you for a moment because he could see the facts, the statistics, in his head. 'Over 45% percent of addicts relapse at least twice. This is without the intervention or support by health care clinics and families and friends, and this case just proved that. So, yes, it could've been-'

'But it wasn't,' you intervened again, your voice echoing like soft thunder through the empty office. It gave you presence, forcing Spencer to look at you, like really look at you, and face what you were about to say.

'You had help and support from people that care about you, Spence,' you continued, sitting forward in your seat. 'And I don't care about the statistics, you're not one of them. You're your own person and you can determine where you add value in life, not by some... statistically-informed percentage prediction... thing.'

That drew a laugh out him, the quiet but sudden sound surprising him slightly. 'Stastically-informed percentage prediction, huh?'

'Shut up,' you grumbled and playfully punched his shoulder. When you both calmed down, you continued. 'When I realised who we were looking for, for a moment I kind of got scared.'

Spencer raised a quizzical eyebrow 'Scared?'

You nodded. 'The truth is that... when you were kidnapped and... you had to endure all that pain alone... I was terrified. We all were. Even when we found you, I was terrified. Because I knew you would never be the same, and not that it's your problem, but I knew in that moment that I would never forgive myself for not finding you sooner. For not going with you and JJ to the farm.'

Tears welled up in your eyes and Spencer immediately leant forward. To do what, he didn't know, he just needed you to know he was there for you, like you always were for him.

'I'm sorry,' you mutter, blinking the tears away before they could fall. 'Your trauma is not my own. I have no right to express my guilt.'

'There's nothing to feel guilty for,' he said, reaching out slowly with his hands, the ones that slightly shook as he laid them on your own.

To his relief, you smiled. It wasn't full, but it was there. 'You're a horrible liar, Spencer Reid.' That brought some laughter out of you both, lightening the suffocating air of the office.

'But even when we found out about you and the dilaudid,' you continued, pulling yourself together, if only to let Spencer know your true thoughts. 'I wasn't even mad.'

A large lump formed in Spencer's throat, and he had a hard time swallowing it along with the threat of tears that burned behind his amber eyes. 'You... You weren't?'

It was the mixture of surprise and hope that pulled at your heart, that made you feel obligated to keep speaking. 'Why should I have been? I was not the one who was tortured mentally and physically by a split-personality murderer; and who also witnesses the darkest, most ugliest aspects of humanity every single day of his life. It was not my place to judge how you hold onto your own humanity.'

Your eyes until then had never left his, but they flickered downwards then, and Spencer froze at where your gaze landed.

It only lasted a moment before your eyes returned to his, and it startled him the lack of sympathy he finds there, but instead warmth. 'It is still not my place to judge,' you said, twisting your hands so they could clasp his fully. 'All I know is that... you are stronger than you give yourself credit for. So much stronger than me, JJ, Pen, Emily - heck, I'd say you're even stronger than Derek. But not Hotch, Gideon, and Rossi, though. Then again, no one is.'

You both chuckled at that, and all the tension in his body seemed to dissipate at the sound. So light and airy, it was what he imagined heaven sounded like.

'The point is,' you continued, giving his hands a squeeze, 'you are a wonder, Spencer Reid. We all see it. You've just got to now see it, too.'

Spencer stared at you, dumbfounded and conflicted within himself. He felt like he wanted to cry and laugh at the same time. And a great urge to suddenly engulf you in a hug started itching his limbs, which was weird because he didn't care much physical affection, or affection in general. But before he could decide what he wanted to do, you decided for him.

You gave his hands one last squeeze before letting go and standing up. The absence of your touch left him cold as he followed you as you went back into the conference room to pack up. Surprisingly it didn't take you long until you came back out, your coat and bag in hand.

'Don't stay up too long, now,' you said as you passed him by, your smile so radiant it was almost as if you weren't crying just a few minutes before. 'We've got a long day ahead.'

As soon as the elevator door closed on you, he pulled out the vial of dilaudid and stared it down. It was like it was taunting him, sitting idly, innocently, in his palm, as if it knew he desperately wanted it, needed it.

'...you are stronger than you give yourself credit for... you are a wonder, Spencer Reid. We all see it. You've just got to now see it, too.'

For some reason, though, he suddenly didn't need it. The fire, the urge, the want and reliance for it - he was suddenly weightless with clarity, if only for a moment.

Spencer chucked the vial in the dumpster outside the office when he left. It was hard, but he did it. He knew he wasn't cured, that there was still a long road ahead. But it was a start.

The next day when he came into the office, Derek was the first to comment on his haggard appearance.

'Seriously man,' he said, trailing Spencer out of the break room, 'you look like a ghoul. Did you sleep at all last night.'

'I was here late last night doing paperwork,' he explained, sitting himself and his coffee down at his desk. 'You should go see (y/n), she probably looks a little worse for wear herself from staying late last night, too.'

'Oh, she stayed late too, did she?'

'It's not like that,' Spencer insisted, swatting at Derek pathetically. 'She had a mountain of paperwork to finish of her own.'

'Y/N?' Emily said as she walked by with JJ, identical coffees in their hands. 'She finished her paperwork at about the same time I did.'

'Yeah, we were walking out together before she turned back into the office. Said she had to talk with Hotch,' JJ said.

'I remember that,' Spencer added. 'You guys said goodnight to me on your way out.' Not that he had responded, he suddenly recalled, a pang of guilt punching his gut.

'Who had to talk with me?' The man himself suddenly walked by, stopping at the congregated group upon hearing his name.

'Y/n,' Emily answered. 'Last night.'

'Oh, yes. She, uh, asked if there was anymore paperwork to do.'

'Why would she do that when she was done?' JJ asked.

'I don't know,' Hotch said, making his way towards his office, 'but who am I to turn away someone who wants to do paperwork for free? Now, briefing in ten minutes.'

As the others dispersed back to their desks, Spencer didn't know how to feel about this new information. It didn't help the matter when you finally dragged yourself into the office, dark circles peaking out from under your thin layer of foundation. But as you sat at your desk, eyes drooping as you logged onto your laptop, he knew just what to do.

It took you a second to register the cup of coffee being held in front of your dazed eyes, and another to realise who was holding it.

'Late night?' Spencer asked, a coy smile on his lips.

Despite your exhaustion, you managed to grab the cup without spilling any of the precious caffeine that would help you through the day. 'Yeah,' you decided to play dumb, answering as enthusiastically as possible. 'Paperwork, you know. Never-ending.'

Spencer hummed, contemplating his next words carefully. 'Well, I hope giving up your sleep was worth it, then.'

'I'd like to think it was.'

The way you didn't hesitate to answer struck a chord of truth in him that left him dumbfounded once more. Twice in under twenty-four hours? That had to be a new record for him.

But instead of freezing up, he managed an honest smile as he clanked his coffee cup with your own. 'Well... it is certainly most appreciated.'

The next time you dumbfounded him, he almost kissed you.

Ever since you had joined the BAU, you and Spencer had alway had a sweet partnership. But after that night in the office, you had become inseparable. Best friends, to put simply. You stayed late at the office to keep each other company, brought each other coffee and treats, spent free days checking out the new films playing in the cinema.

You had inside jokes, and fought like an old, married couple - a fact the team loved to bring up whenever possible. But you liked it like that. Spencer was your person, and you were his.

And as much as he wowed you everyday, you managed to surprise him on occasions, too.

You were both paired up to interrogate a suspect. You personally didn't believe she was the killer, but Spencer didn't like to base anything from solely his gut. In other words, he was skeptical.

'I didn't kill those women,' your suspect said. 'And even if wanted to kill them, it would be for something more worthwhile than a stupid role.'

'Jealously isn't as far-fetched a reason to kill as you may believe,' Spencer stated to her. 'Particularly in women, the feeling of being threatened or in danger of losing something important to them brings out almost a maternal instinct to protect what they believe to be is theirs.'

'You think all actresses are that low? That shallow?' The young woman was pretty, but her face scrunched up in an ugly manner at the insinuation.

'He doesn't think that at all,' you interjected. 'In fact, he quite likes actresses, don't you buddy?'

Spencer gave you a side eye to which you smiled sickly-sweetly at in return. You were never going to let the Lila fling down any time soon.

You looked back at the young woman, your face returning to empathetic, concerned. She had a wall up, she was wearing a mask. If you wanted answers out of her, you needed to connect with her.

You leaned forward on the table, positioning yourself in front of Spencer so all her focus was on you.

'Anna,' you said softly, like you were speaking to a friend. 'I know you didn't do it. You're different than all those other girls right? You've worked hard to get where you are. Small town girl wanting to make a name for herself in an industry that can be ruthless and heartless as the killer that's still out there. You are classically trained, by-the-book, no shortcuts. I bet you started on the stage of your elementary school, landing the lead role.'

The young woman looked at you with skepticism for a moment, then you saw a crack in her mask as she nodded. 'I was Mary in the Christmas production. But it wasn't until high school when we preformed Shakespeare's The Tempest that I knew this was what I wanted to do with my life.'

Spencer noticed your smile now, how it lifted in a manner that sung of melancholy and fondness.

'"We are such stuff as dreams are made on.",' you said whimsically, and Spencer noted a familiarity that had the words rolling off your tongue with ease. Like it was muscle memory.

'Such a beautiful line, right?' the young woman asked.

'Yes, but, when translated into our modern English, it is quite sad really.' You make eye contact with the young woman and hoped she saw the understanding and slight desperation in your eyes. 'It means that life is an illusion, and a fleeting one at that. I don't necessarily believe in the first part of that, but it is true that life is fleeting. So before you end up the next aspiring actress in our morgue, you've got to tell us everything you know.'

The rest of the interrogation went smoothly. Honestly, it was the easiest one Spencer had ever sat in before. And all the while he had just sat there in awe of you.

'I didn't know you read Shakespeare,' he said randomly as they drove together in a local police SUV to meet with the rest of the team at the new suspect's house.

You scoffed. 'See that's the biggest misconception of Shakespeare. That it can only be read. In fact, it actually shouldn't be just read. It needs to be performed.'

Amusement danced upon Spencer's lips. 'Are you saying you were in a Shakespearean play? Which one? Actually, let me guess. Romeo and Juliet.'

'That's a cliche.'

'Twelfth Night? How about Taming of the Shrew?'

'Why do you want to know so badly?'

'Because I...' It suddenly occurred to him that he didn't quite know why he wanted to know. Only that he knows everything and you were his best friend and he didn't know something about you.

You spared him a sympathetic smile from the driver's seat before returning your eyes to the road. 'If you must know... it was actually The Tempest. It was my high school's production, too. And as much as he irritates me, I grew fascinated with Shakespeare's work after that. It even prompted me to do a unit or two in Shakespearean literature and performance during my uni days.'

You allowed yourself to slip back in time a little to those days, that melancholy and fondness finding its way back into your smile, Spencer noticed.

'Outside of Shakespeare though, I'll admit... I was a theatre kid.'

'No way!' Spencer exclaimed. 'You?'

'Why is it so unbelievable that I used to dress up and spout lines that no one really understood?' you asked, but you weren't offended. Simply amused that you seemed to have stunned the (until now) un-stunnable Dr. Spencer Reid.

'Because... it's just so left of field from anyone else in the team.'

'And is that a bad thing?'

'...not at all,' he said after a moment, and then proceeded to drop the matter entirely. Spencer Reid never forgets anything, he couldn't forget, not with his eidetic memory. But he made extra special care to file that little fact about you away for now.

A few days after returning home from wrapping that case up, you came into work to find your coffee already made on your desk, and beside it was an envelope. Curious, you swiftly opened the envelope and gasped with pure surprise at what you found.

'I thought you might like them,' Spencer said as he approached you, his own coffee in hand. 'The ticket vendor said they were the best seats in the house.'

'Oh my God, Spencer!' You couldn't help yourself, you leapt onto the gangly man like a frog and held him tighter than you'd ever hugged someone before, avoiding spilling Spencer's coffee. You were so excited you even smacked a fat, grateful kiss on his unsuspecting cheek before letting him go. 'Tickets to ASC's production of The Tempest?! How did you even get these, I was told they were all gone.'

'Believe it or not, I have connections everywhere,' Spencer answered a bit too vaguely but you didn't care. 'Even in areas that aren't of my particular expertise. I figured you and a friend could go enjoy it before it finishes up.'

'You mean you're not coming?'

Spencer tried not to read into it too much, but he swore he heard a little hiccup in your question, like you were upset. 'W-Well, I, I, uh, didn't want to assume anything. I mean, y-you might want to take JJ, or Emily-

'Spencer.' It was ridiculous how easy he listened when you said his name, how he dropped everything to listen to what you had to say whenever you did. And his heart faltered when he made eye contact with you and saw joy and hope lighting up your eyes. 'Would you like to come to the show with me?'

And it wasn't any wonder, then, that he replied without hesitation, 'Y-Yeah! All right, s-sure. Would love to.'

'Amazing!' Spencer once again had to juggle his coffee and you as you squeezed all the air out of him in another bone-crushing hug. 'Spencer Reid, you have just made my day.'

It was a week later and the night of the performance. You drove yourself and Spencer two and a half hours straight from Quantico down to Staunton to the American Shakespeare Centre, reciting and recalling your favourite Shakespearean moments the whole trip.

Spencer made the extreme effort to look presentable, pulling out a nice suit set, even replacing his usual casual sneakers with some shiny boots. His hair was slicked back out of his face, with only the slightest stubble on his chin and upper lip.

When you picked him up, you said he looked handsome. He never cared much for his appearance, but that comment warmed his heart slightly, made him sit more upright in his seat.

Once you pulled up and got out of the car, he finally saw you in all your glory. A navy blue dress clung to your frame beautifully; kitten heels cradled your feet as you walked up the stairs to the theatre's entrance; your jewellery brought out the (e/c) in your eyes, even further accentuated by your simple makeup and hair.

Spencer has met Nobel price winners, attorney generals, even spoken with the most psychotic people humanity has to offer. And yet there you stood - ethereal, angelic, striking him silent with just your presence.

'You coming, Boy Wonder?'

You'd reached the top the stairs without him moving a muscle. Embarrassed, he tried to cover it up with a cough as he scrambled to catch up with you. 'Boy Wonder? Where did that come from?'

You shrugged playfully as you hooked your arm through his. 'Just seemed appropriate.'

'I'm twenty-seven, (y/n). I'm hardly a boy.'

'Oh, so would you prefer I call you Batman?'

Spencer raised a quizzical eyebrow. 'I didn't know you liked DC comics.'

'There's a lot you still don't know about me, Spencer Reid,' you answered, handing over your tickets to the ticket vendor at the door. 'Like how I've always preferred Robin over Batman, anyway.'

You quickly found your seats, and Spencer tried not to acknowledge how tight-knit the seats were pressed together. His thigh pressed lightly against your own, and he couldn't tell if he hated or liked the feeling that suddenly sprouted in his gut.

It distracted him so much that instead of watching the performance, he looked at you. How you reacted to each sonnet, to the entrance of new characters, to the costuming and the music and emotion that filled the room with every word spoken. He watched it all, your joy, your love. Your heart was on your face, and it struck something new and unexplored inside him.

You cried at one point, and physical touch wasn't his forte, but he intertwined his fingers with yours and gave them a reassuring squeeze that he was there. You'd turned to him briefly and nodded, showing that you understood and that you were grateful.

You didn't let go of his hand for the rest of the show.

'Wow,' you breathed out as you exited the theatre, the performance finally done. 'That was...'

'Yeah. I feel the same,' Spencer finished, his hands shoved into his pockets as they walked down the stairs towards the carpark. His hand still burned from your touch, and that unsure feeling in his gut still remained.

'It was just so... magical.'

'I would say impressive, but magical works too, I guess.'

'Says the guy who still goes trick-or-treating on Halloween and believes in ghosts. Don't tell me you don't believe in the supernatural now.'

'I'm not saying I don't believe. I'm just saying that it's impressive that they were able to make fantastical magic seem slightly realistic.'

You playfully shove him, causing you both to fall into laughter. The two different melodies mixing together made Spencer feel lighter than he'd felt in a while. This was different to when you usually hung out. This time, there was no case, no team, nothing but yourselves to worry about.

'It doesn't matter, anyways,' you said, stopping on the steps suddenly. Spencer went down one more before stopping too. You smiled gratefully at him. It was a cool, autumn night, cool enough that your breath danced like ghosts in front of you as you spoke. 'Thank you, Spence. This was a wonderful night. You didn't have to do this.'

'I know,' he said, and it startled him how quiet and soft his voice was. 'I just... I just wanted you to enjoy the stuff you love. You deserve to enjoy the stuff you love.'

His acute eyes fell to your shoulders and noticed the slight shake in them. 'Here.' He wasted no time pulling his jacket off and wrapping it around your shoulders, pulling it tight to capture the warmth.

You gratefully held onto the jacket, the warmth it captured seeping into your eyes. 'You truly are a wonder, Spencer,' you said, your words dancing in between you two.

He was only the step down now, making you two eye level with one another. He was so close he could see himself in your eyes. He wondered if you could see yourself in his.

'Am I?' he asked, his breath mixing with yours.

'Yeah...'

He felt your warmth, and he suddenly decided that he liked the feeling in his gut. The one that had been driving him crazy all night. The one that had an iron grip on his mind, his heart. The one that pulled him closer to you, to your lips.

His eyes were almost closed and his lips almost on yours. You didn't back away - you didn't want to back away you realised. No matter how hard your heart pounded in your chest. No matter if he was your best friend.

So you leaned in too, and you could just feel the stars and planets align as you tasted his breath-

The front of your heel slipped on the edge of the step, sending you flying forwards into Spencer's chest. His reflexes had improved immensely since joining the BAU, and so he managed to grab hold of you and hold himself up before your momentum could send you both tumbling down the remaining stairs.

You both breathed in heavy gulps of air, steadying both your hearts from what could've happened.

'Nice catch,' you said after a moment, loosening your grip on Spencer only a little.

'Thanks.' He didn't know where to look. You, the ground, his surroundings. It all just felt muddled, as if his whole world had been tilted on its axis.

In a sense, it had.

But he felt your gaze, and he couldn't deny your eyes so he looked at you also. You eyes were blown wide, and the slight catch in your breath had him second guessing himself. Maybe he'd read you wrong after all. He'd never been wrong before, but there was always a first time for everything, he figured.

'(Y/n), look, I-'

Before he could attempt to salvage himself, the irritating ring of his phone went off, breaking the glass dome of solitude you'd' forged together with nothing but words and air.

This forced you apart, awkwardly so, as Spencer readjusted you on his step before letting you go completely and fishing his phone out of his pant pocket. He checked the ID caller: Hotch.

He accepted the call and brought the phone to his ear. 'Hotch, what's up?'

'New case,' the unit chief answered without pleasantries. 'I know we're all meant to be off for the weekend but this one is important.'

'Where is it and we'll be there.'

'You're with (Y/n), right? In Staunton?'

'Yeah, why?'

'Head to the local police. We'll meet you there. That's where the case is.'

'Okay. Gotcha.'

Hotch ended the call and then it was just him and you once more. Although instead of the air feeling freeing and warming, Spencer couldn't seem to get enough in his lungs. It was like he was suffocating, having to face you again.

So he slipped into work mode, keeping Hotch's urgency and the new case in the forefront of his mind. 'New case. Here in Staunton. Hotch wants us to head down to the police and meet them there.'

'Right.' You seemed to think the same as him - it's probably why you were best friends to begin with - as the ethereal light in your eyes dimmed with the severity of the new situation. Without another word, you both bee-lined for the car, jumped in, and made your way to the local police station.

But for the rest of the case, Spencer couldn't help but think about that moment with you on the steps. He'd kissed before, of course, even dabbled in flirting despite how little he knew about the craft. He'd never imagined he'd attempt it all on you, however. Not even in his wildest dreams.

He didn't hear your heart-stopping compliment again until it was almost too late.

After the Staunton case, you and Spencer had been... odd. Well, mainly Spencer, as he spoke as little as possible to you during cases, and always offered to go with anyone else but you on certain tasks. He even stopped coming over to yours for movie night each Saturday, claiming each time to be busy or unwell. It was Spencer's only way of ensuring nothing like that night ever happened again.

He convinced himself the moment was fleeting, just a mixture of chemicals in his brain combined with the adrenaline of being with a beautiful women he very much admired that made him read the signs wrong. You were friends, that was all you were, and all he would ever allow you to be.

This went on for three months.

And you were miserable.

Emily, JJ and Penelope recognised the change in your demeanour at work first, and when they found out the reason behind it, they slapped Spencer upside the head on their way out of the office one Friday afternoon and took you with them, promising a wonderful night out on the town.

That night, to Spencer's eventual annoyance, you'd met someone. A charming young firefighter named Riley who lived in Washington DC and was just in town to see family.

That night, you hooked up. And the next morning, he asked you on a date. That date led to another, then more. You were on your way to another one tonight when you got a phone call from JJ saying they found the latest unsub's house and were planning a raid on it.

Spencer knew you were on a date when he also got the phone call to come along. Despite his distance (by his own choice, he always had to remind himself), he kept tabs on you, checked in on you via others. And while the girls of the team were awfully mad at him, they always answered him when he asked how you were doing.

'You know, for a genius, you really are quite stupid,' JJ told him when he asked about you.

He quirked his eyebrow, genuinely confused. 'I'm sorry?'

'She's heartbroken,' Penelope added. 'Her best friend just gives her the silent treatment out of nowhere after what sounded like a magical night at the theatre. Who wouldn't be upset by that, Reid?'

'I just,' he paused, rallying his thoughts into words that couldn't quite describe how he felt. 'It's complicated.'

'Love shouldn't be complicated, Reid,' Emily interjected, a soft but sad smile gracing her painted lips.

Spencer swallowed thickly at that. 'W-What do you mean?'

Derek finished making his coffee and took a sip of it before answering. 'We all see it, Reid. You don't have to deny anymore how you feel.'

'I'm not denying anything, Morgan.'

'Maybe not to us,' Derek continued. 'But you are definitely denying it to yourself. All I can say is don't wait until it's too late. She's already slipping away.'

That's when Spencer found out about your dates with Riley, and an ugly, selfish, hurt part of him wanted to scream with anger. Mainly at himself, but the damage was done and he had to get over you.

But when you showed up to the unsub's home, your FBI bullet-proof vest on and mascara slightly smeared under your eyes, he was beyond confused. And concerned.

'You're here,' he stated matter-of-factly.

'You sound surprised,' you answered stiffly, loading your gun without even glancing at him.

'To be honest, yeah. JJ and the rest all said you were out tonight. I figured you-'

'What? That I would ignore the call because I had something personal planned?' You finally looked up at him, and man did your cold stare pierce him like an arrow. 'This is my job, Spence. I knew, same as you and everyone else, that I would have to make some sacrifices to do it. So please, don't think so little of me just because I attempted to have a life outside of it.'

He grew more concerned at your choice of words. 'Attempted?' he asked, but then he looked closely at your smeared mascara, at the redness circling your eyes. Like you'd been crying-

'Don't worry about it,' you muttered, brushing past him to meet up with the team. 'You haven't for about four months now.'

Spencer tried to ignore the sting your words brought with them as he followed you to the rest of the team, forcing himself to put the case in front of you. But he'd done that for the past four months as you had so brightly pointed out, and look where it had landed him.

'Now remember,' Hotch started, bringing the team and some other officers in to brief, 'this unsub may use this place as his base to build his bombs, but don't discredit the idea that he wouldn't blow it up to save himself. Tread carefully but be vigilant, he is in the house somewhere. Now move.'

Spencer followed you into the house through the front door, gun and flashlight at the ready. All that could be heard were the soft but swift patter of footsteps as the FBI and local police ran in. The lights were on, but no unsub.

You were silently directed by Hotch to investigate the back end of the house, to which Spencer and Derek followed. You focussed on maintaining your breathing as you tried not to think about your date, Spencer, your heart thrashing in your ribcage. Only the unsub mattered.

The three of you broke into the last room of the house, the laundry. Upon entry, you spotted him, the unsub, running out the back door into the backyard.

'Hey!' you called out, immediately breaking into a sprint after him. You broke out of the laundry onto a cemented path towards a clothes line, chasing after him towards the fence line. But as you stepped off the path and onto the grass, something gave way beneath your feet, followed by a resounding click that had your freezing with fear.

'(L/n), keep going!' Derek shouted from somewhere behind you.

'Hold up!' you cried, throwing an arm back behind you. 'I think the yard is full of bombs.'

'Well, let's go around the front and get him in the back streets, come on!'

'I can't,' you replied back, slightly breathless from running, but also from the fear constricting now your airways.

'Why?' You didn't have to see him to know it was Spencer, concern dripping from just one word.

'Because I'm standing on one.'

Spencer knew it was physically impossible, but he was sure his stomach just dropped out of him and onto the bomb-littered grass around them. This was bad. Like very very bad.

'Shit,' Derek breathed out before bringing his wrist up to his mouth. 'Hotch, the unsub got away over the back fence, send some men to intercept him two blocks north from here.'

'Got it,' Hotch answered efficiently.

'And send the bomb squad out here. Yard is like a mine field and (L/n) is standing on one.'

After that, it didn't take long for the rest of the team to run outside, making extra careful to stand only on the pavements as they got as close to you as they could. Spencer stood the closest, standing directly in front of you as the bomb squad swept the yard for the rest of them.

'I've got some good news and some bad news,' one member of the bomb squad said as she came up to the team. 'Good news is it's the only bomb in the yard.'

'And I just managed to find it. Super,' you muttered, your tone shaky although the intention was to lighten the mood.

'Bad news is it's a pressure-triggered bomb, meaning that if you move even a fraction it'll go off. Also, by stepping on it, you've set of a timer until it explodes. The only way to disarm it seems to be a code of some kind.'

'How long do we have?' Spencer asked, not bothering to mask his desperation. This couldn't be happening. Of all the people, it had to be you.

'Six hours now,' she said grimly. 'My team and I will do everything we can to dismantle it and shut it off manually, but it's built quite strong so it'll be tough to crack open without setting it off. Your best bet will be to get an answer from your bomber.'

'Uniforms just called in,' Rossi said. 'They're bringing him in now.'

'Good,' Hotch said with a ferocity that would send most people running for the hills. 'He's gonna give us that code one way or another.' He turned to you, determination blazing in his eyes. 'Hang tight, (Y/n). We're gonna get you off that thing.'

'I'll hold you to that,' you joked, and you were grateful to receive a soft smile in return from Hotch and the rest of the team. Except for Spencer, he couldn't find it in himself to smile. He could barely think no thanks to your dangerous position.

'I'll stay with (Y/n),' Spencer said, his voice strained compared to his usual calmness.

'Reid,' Derek started, 'you're our best bet to crack open this guy. If we find something-'

'Then I'll have my phone ready to pick up. I'm not leaving her.'

It surprised you the strength you heard hidden underneath his fear. It was there in his eyes too, blazing like Hotch's, except with more warmth, more determination.

Derek looked to Hotch, and Hotch just nodded. 'Okay fine, but you better pick up on the first ring.'

'Promise.'

'I'll stay to help with the bomb squad,' Emily said while also looking at you.

'No,' you said as Hotch, Derek and JJ left. 'You all should go. In case he somehow remotely sets it off himself.'

'We're not leaving,' Reid said firmly, making eye contact with you. 'Not until you're off that bomb, you hear me?'

You wanted to argue, trying to be selfless and strong. But the truth was you were terrified, and to hear Spencer's strength where you lacked helped you push your pride aside and nod in agreement.

Time had flown by and it was now the last ten minutes. Spencer had received phone call after phone call but nothing had been helpful. They'd tried two potential codes already but they didn't work. The bomb squad quickly realised that they only had three chances to get the code right and so they were down to the last chance.

'You guys should really leave,' you said amidst your chattering teeth. It was now just after midnight and your thin button up and the bulletproof vest were not cutting it anymore. Spencer wished he could give you a blanket, a jacket, his own shirt for God's sake if it would keep you warm slightly.

'That's not going to happen,' he answered without hesitation.

You yawned, eyes threatening to droop close. Your legs had gone numb long ago. You were unsure how you were holding yourself up. It certainly wasn't by adrenaline. Perhaps you were frozen in place.

'I mean it, Spence,' you said, bracing yourself as another shiver threatened to spasm your entire body. 'It's the last ten minutes. You should be clear in case it goes off.'

'I'm not going to do that.'

'Damnit, Spencer. Of all the times to be stubborn, you choose now?'

'I'm not being stubborn,' Spencer argued. Were you purposefully trying to tick him off now? 'I'm trying to save your life!'

'You're right, you're not being stubborn. You're being plain stupid,' you retorted. You weren't sure why you were suddenly so angry, you just didn't like him playing the hero when he didn't have to.

'Yes! I am stupid, I admit that. I'll announce that to the entire neighbourhood right now if you want me to! Because if it weren't for me being an idiot, you wouldn't have had those dates, you wouldn't have had a date tonight, and maybe you wouldn't be stuck standing on a bomb right now!'

You stared incredulously at Spencer. He blamed himself for your situation? For Riley?

Despite the bustling of people around them, everything grew silent as youO stared at one another, Spencer's chest heaving as he sucked in air hard.

'Spence,' you said softly, your anger suddenly dissipating. 'I don't blame you for any of this. I would've ended up on this bomb one way or another. Or even worse, it could've been you standing on it. And as for Riley...' You thought the tears would come up again like before, but your eyes remained dry, and your heart didn't pull harshly.

Not for Riley, anyways.

'Did something happen between you two?' Spencer tentatively asked. His tone bordered on concerned and hopeful, demonstrating his torn mindset to whatever you were about to say.

You nodded. 'I told him I had to go to work, which wasn't unusual, but he just flipped. Said he was sick of me choosing you guys over him and that he was finished.'

He hated himself for feeling the slightest bit happy at the news, but his best friend instincts kicked in, and all he wanted to do was reach out and hold you. 'I'm sorry. You could've said no. We would've understood-'

'Spencer, I will always choose you guys over anyone,' you interjected, and the complete seriousness on your face reflected your sincerity brighter than the full moon above. 'I will always choose you, Spence.'

It was then Spencer saw it: the same feeling he'd had swirling in his stomach for months reflected in your eyes. It scared him, but what scared him more was that it would all be gone soon if he didn't do anything about it.

He would be too late, just like Derek said.

The bomb squad lady and Emily walked up to them both, and Spencer did not like the grim expressions on their faces.

'I'm sorry,' the bomb squad lady said. 'It's the last five minutes. There's nothing else we can do but clear out of the blast zone.'

'What about the code?' Spencer pressed, but Emily shook her head.

'Reid, they've gotten nothing out of him. We've got to go.'

'But we can't just leave her here-'

'Trust me, Spencer, I don't want to either!' Emily cried, tears pricking at her eyes at the thought of you dying. 'But we can't do anything for her here. I've got the remote to input the code if they get another one, but until then, we've got to clear from the blast zone.'

'No.' Spencer shook his head vigourously. He couldn't accept this. He wouldn't accept this.

'Spencer,' you tried gently. 'It's okay. I can do the rest alone. I want you to be safe.'

'Well, too bad, because I'm staying.'

You squeezed your eyes shut as tears rushed down your cheeks. 'Damnit, Spencer. Please, just go. Don't make this harder than it already is.'

Spencer took a daring step towards you, the tops of his shoes dangling just over the edge of the pavement. 'I won't abandon you. Not again.'

You were most likely a blubbering mess, your heart hurting so much at the thought that he would get caught up in your mess. 'God, why don't you just leave-'

'Because I love you, (Y/n)!'

The four of you stood dumbfounded as his proclamation echoed through the yard, the house, the street back out the front. Hell, Spencer hoped the whole world heard what he said, because he felt free for the first time in months, weightless, powerful.

And it was all because of you.

'I love you,' he repeated again, softer this time. As the reality of the situation came crashing down on him, tears of his own sprouted in his eyes and ran down his cheeks. He'd finally built up the courage to tell you, and you were minutes away from being blown up.

Through your tears, you find it in yourself to chuckle a little. It's watery and gross-sounding, but Spencer likes it none the less because it's yours, and you haven't lost complete hope. 'Talk about great timing, you big idiot.' And then there it is, that bright smile he saw day one in the office. You wore it with such pride, such strength it pulled at Spencer's heart strings painfully. 'You truly are a wonder, Spencer Reid.'

'One minute,' the bomb squad lady said, her tone frantic now. 'We've got to move! Now!'

'Reid, come on!' Emily cried, backing up with the bomb squad.

'I won't abandon her,' he replied, never taking his eyes off you.

'Reid please!'

Before he could reply, though, his phone buzzed, and he immediately answered the call. 'Please tell me you go it.'

'HOME! The code word is HOME!'

'Punch in HOME!' Reid called out to Emily, keeping Derek on the line as he stared at you. If you were to die, he was gonna make damn sure the last thing you saw wasn't an unfamiliar face.

'Are you sure?'

'We're out of time! Do it!'

'Spence...' you muttered. But you never finished your sentence, as your breath got caught while watching Emily punch in the code into the device. You closed your eyes. Soon you would be in eternal darkness. You would not fear it, but embrace it.

But when nothing happened, you dared to sneak a peek at what was going on. You saw Spencer first, who looked at Emily, who looked at the device in her hands. The deathly silence was finally broken at the sound of a green light on the device switching on. You then heard a hundred tiny clicks somewhere underfoot and felt yourself being pushed up back onto level ground.

Spencer finally looked back to you, eyes blown wide with hope he dared not realise. That same hope fuelled your frozen, tired legs, to take the tiniest of steps forward, and when nothing happened, you took your other foot off the bomb and collapsed forward into Spencer's arms.

His heart pounded faster than the jet that flew them all over the country every week as he cradled you simultaneously gently and tightly. You sobbed into his chest, your arms circling around his back and pulling him as tight as possible.

Oh, how he had missed your touch, your affection, your love, you.

'It's okay, you're okay,' he soothed, patting your hair down with one hand while he cradled you with the other. 'I'm here. We're all here.' He realised suddenly he'd dropped his phone, and so with one hand, he reached down and picked it up, bringing it to his ear. 'She's off.'

He barely heard the cheers of excitement and relief on Derek's end before he was hanging up and helping you to your feet. After that, it was a whirlwind of the bomb squad excavating the bomb, paramedics arriving, and CSU investigating the house.

After giving his statement of events to the local police and finishing speaking to other officials, he found you wrapped in a trauma blanket in the open back of an ambulance.

'How are you feeling?' he said as he approached you.

You broke free of your own world to look at Spencer, and a soft smile managed its way onto your lips. 'Well, I can feel my legs again so that's a start. And you?'

'All the better now that you're not standing on a bomb.'

You chuckled, though a red tinge dusted your cheeks out of embarrassment. 'I must admit, it's true what they say about your life flashing before your eyes the moment before you die.'

'Really? What did you see?' Spencer had read articles about this kind of stuff before, but had never spoken with a person who'd experience it themselves.

You didn't answer straight away, instead standing up to face him fully. Your legs felt like jelly a little but you stood strong. 'I saw you,' you replied easily, as if breathing air. 'Only you.'

Spencer couldn't hold it back, his fear, his relief. It all came bubbling out in an ugly sob as he pulled you into a bone-crushing hug, pressing his face into your hair, using your scent to calm himself. He felt you sobbing too, how your body shook with your own anxieties.

'I missed you,' you said, your words muffled into his chest.

'I know, I'm sorry,' he murmured. 'I missed you, too.' He pulled you back slightly so that he could see your face. He wiped at your tears and forced his best smile just for you. 'But I'm back now. And I'm not going anywhere. That is... if you want me around.'

You heard his silent question, and it made you smile how confident and shy he could be simultaneously.

'Spencer Reid,' you murmured, like what you were about to say next was your biggest secret, 'of course I want you around. I love you.'

He chuckled with relief, tears still pricking at his eyes. But your words sealed your fate, as he used his small amount of confidence to grab the back of your neck gently and pull your lips to his.

You were the sweetest thing he'd ever tasted, and dare he compare you the most addictive drug he could ever hope to get high on. He couldn't get enough of you, and it was such a relief to finally let it out how much he needed you to breathe.

You were equally breathless, simultaneously feeling all consumed by Spencer's love without also having enough of it. Your fingers danced in the soft curls at the nape of his neck, threading yourself into him as much as possible. The truth was, the past four months were torturous.

'I'm not going anywhere.'

As you both finally broke apart, you pressed your foreheads together, nervous giggles of teenagers bubbling up in you both. This was fresh and new, but the love you had for one another had been there all along. No one was going anywhere.

'Finally!'

You and Spencer looked up to see the rest of the team watching from afar, with Emily and JJ smiling giddily, Derek and Rossi trying to suppress laughter, and Hotch having the simplest of grins on his lips.

'Oh, babygirl is going to have a field day when she hears about this,' Derek said, walking up to clap Spencer on the back and give him a hug. 'Well done, man.'

'It's about time,' Rossi said as the rest of the team joined you both. 'I thought I was going to have to take matters into my own hands.'

'Thank God you didn't,' Emily said, both her and JJ giving you a hug. 'As much as this has been traumatic for all of us, I'm so glad it brought you back together.'

'Say that to my poor legs,' you whined, but you hugged them just as tight. Truthfully, you felt the same. And as Reid held you in his arms that night, having refused to let you out of his sight after your brush with death, you couldn't be more grateful for it, too.

Your wedding was the next major point in his life that your words had impact.

The past five years leading up to your engagement had been some of the best and challenging in your life. There'd been many more close calls on both your lives since then - kidnappings, hostage situations, deadly viruses, the works. Even some romantic challenges that came in the form of other men and women.

But your bond ran deeper than superficial, petty spiffs. You always found your way back to one another, no matter how dark the road got. It was even on such a dark case that saw both you and Spencer on death row that he asked you. You'd both been captured and locked in a shipping container filled with no gaps for air and no way out. Before that, you'd copped a beating from your capture, forcing Spencer to watch all the while. Truthfully, it hadn't looked good, and that's why Spencer did it.

'What?' you asked deliriously, barely able to see straight no thanks to the lack of oxygen.

'I was planning on asking you... after this case,' Spencer admitted, his face mere centimetres from yours as he held you in a tight hug. He was breathless, running out of air and time it seemed. He had to do it now. 'Had it all planned out... We would go to that place on the hill we go to... a picnic all set out... and just as the sun would set, I'd ask you... and give you this.'

You would've gasped if you'd had enough air to do so, in utter shock to see Spencer pull out a simple gold band with a diamond embedded in it from in his pant pocket.

'I've had this for months... waiting for the... right time,' he managed to get out. 'It's my mothers. When I told her I wanted to marry you... she didn't even hesitate to give it to me.'

You were both weak, but he softly picked your left hand up and looked you dead in the eye. 'This might be it for us, but it also might not. Either way, I want to be yours for whatever time we have left. So, (Y/n) (L/n)... will you marry me?'

The tears that trekked down your face actually cleared your vision enough to see Spencer's smile clearly as you answered, 'Yes. I will marry you.'

Either some higher being was looking out for you that day, or your team was just really good at their job (Spencer never doubted them for a moment), but the team found you both in time, both unconscious and barely breathing, but hand in hand, with yours suddenly bejewelled.

Since then it had been a flurry of work and wedding arrangements and stress over the next seven months. Many speculated you were pregnant and that's why you and Spencer rushed the wedding. The truth was you just didn't want to wait any longer than you had to, not being in your line of work. Any day could be your last, so why waste it.

Spencer messed with the tie of his navy blue suit for the hundredth time as he stood waiting under the arch of flowers in the backyard of Rossi's mansion for you. He wasn't nervous, just... ansty, like he had ants in his pants and wanted to get out of them as soon as possible. But he couldn't deny he was just as excited for this day as you were. All of your friends and family dressed up, no case, no killer, nothing but what dessert they were going to have at the reception to worry about.

'Hey pretty boy,' Derek said, coming up behind him and clapping a hand on his shoulder reassuringly. 'Stop messing with it. You look fine.'

'I know, I just...' Spencer couldn't put into words what he was feeling, not as he stared at his good friend - his best man. Even though Derek had left the BAU, Spencer and him still spoke regularly, and he was more than happy to be there for his best bud at arguably the most important day of his life.

Derek smiled knowingly, straightening Spencer's tie because that's what the best man did for the groom. 'She loves you, Spencer. You've got nothing to worry about.'

'I'm not worried. I just...' He felt the tears already coming on and he hadn't even seen you yet. You were probably even more gorgeous than you already were. God he couldn't wait to marry you.

'I get it, man,' Derek said, and then the piano started playing a soft, whimsical tune that was so you and he stepped back into place. 'Show time, pretty boy.'

Spencer straightened himself up, told himself to hold the tears back. This was not a sad day, but a joyous one. But his breath was stolen the moment the doors of Rossi's mansion opened, after Emily, JJ and Penelope walked through, and you walked out into the backyard on your father's arm.

Your gown was simple, accentuating your body like the goddess you were. Your (h/c) locks were styled to perfection, hidden barely by the thin veil that fell like morning mist over your face. You held your favourite flowers in your hands, the glint of your engagement ring shining as bright as the sun that shone upon the whole ceremony.

By the time you reached him, Spencer was about ready to rip your veil off, kiss the living daylights out of you and runaway. But he resisted, instead waiting patiently for your dad to flip your veil up, and for you to hand over your bouquet to JJ, your maid of honour. When you finally turned to face him, he could've cried. You were so beautiful. And we was marrying you today.

You reached out to him, and he was more than glad to clasp your hands at last.

'Hi,' you whispered, a nervous but excited smile twitching your lips.

'Hi,' he whispered back, the threat of tears burning the back of his eyes again. 'You are gorgeous.'

'Thanks. You look handsome.'

'It's a wonder what a whole eight hours sleep and showering more than once a week can do.'

He was so glad to hear your laugh. It calmed his nerves, and apparently yours calmed too, as your hands no longer shook in his.

'All right, everyone,' Rossi started, stepping up to minister the ceremony. 'Let's get this started.'

The boring, ceremonious stuff went by quickly and soon you were reciting your vows. You'd both wanted to write your own vows for each other - agreeing that the usual script was not enough to express your love for one another, and what you would do to protect that love.

Reid went first.

'(Y/n),' he began, staring you straight in your eyes. He'd written his speech over and over again, but once he found the right words, it only took him a matter of seconds to memorise them. Forever. 'I've always been told I was different. Gifted, special. Being different helped me get this job, this family-' he turned to his friends, who watched them with bright smiles and teary eyes. 'But it also got me in trouble, held me back from experiencing... normal things like friendship, even love. So much so, that I started to believe... I was unworthy of love.'

You squeezed his hands, hearing the stutter in his words, the built up emotion that threatened to consume him. He gratefully squeezed back, grateful to know he was not alone, that he would never be alone from this day forth.

'But from the day I met you, you've shown me that I can be myself and be worthy of love. Theoretically, we shouldn't work. Despite popular opinion, studies have shown that people from different backgrounds, with different interests and completely different personality traits are less likely to feel attracted to one another than people with similar backgrounds, interests and personalities.'

'Come on, Reid. You really want people to sleep through your wedding?' Derek asked, prompting you and the rest of the guests to burst into laughter.

'I have a point,' he countered, and waited for the laughter to die down before resuming his vows. 'And while I usually rely on statistics and facts to make informed decisions about my life, from the day that I met you, you turned my entire world upside, inside out... and I didn't care. Because despite knowing almost everything there is to know about, well, everything, you are the one thing that has and always will make sense to me.'

He saw you trying to hold back tears, so he let go of one of your hands to caress your cheek where some tears rolled down. He swiped them away gently with his thumb without ruining your makeup, the most handsome, beautiful smile you'd ever seen on his lips.

'I love you, (Y/n) (L/n). I have loved you since we first met, at every case, at every movie night, every time you made me coffee. I love how you find the light amidst the darkness, how you give yourself completely to everyone you meet. I love the crinkle in your forehead every time you get mad at me. I love all of you, and I don't have to promise you that I will stay by your side through it all for the rest of our lives. You have had me since day one, and that will never change, even in death. But before that final day comes, I look forward to making the most of what time we have left loving you.'

The guests clapped so loudly that he almost didn't hear your soft sobs. But he did, and he pulled you into a quick hug before you pulled yourself away.

'Oh my goodness, I just want to kiss you,' you admitted quietly to him, bringing laughter out of him. But you quickly pulled your self away, using your free hand to grab an A4-sized piece of paper from JJ and return to face Spencer.

'Unfortunately, I don't have an eidetic memory so I will be using some assistance for this next bit,' you joked, stopping your flow of tears briefly as everyone chuckled, appreciative for the break in overwhelming emotions. Spencer breathed in deeply, steadying his heartbeat as much as possible. His part was done, but he knew this next part would be the hardest to retain composure.

'Spencer,' you began, one hand shakily holding your vows, while the other gripped onto Spencer like your life depended on it. In a sense, after today, it would. 'From the moment I first met you, I knew you were special. That you would leave a mark on my life in one form or another. Some sad part of me sometimes thought it would be when you inevitably shot yourself because you couldn't pass your marksman test after three goes-' Cue Spencer looking to Hotch apologetically while the rest of the guests laughed. '-or because, in our line of work, any day could be our last, and I wouldn't rule out any psychopaths intervening with that. However, despite it all, you're still here, and I couldn't be more thankful that you are. You amaze me everyday, Spencer - with your knowledge of the world, your intellectual insight, how you are almost incapable of growing any substantial amount of facial hair.'

You were glad people were laughing now, because what you were about to say next was going to take all your composure not to fall apart.

'But it is your heart and your ability to connect with people that has captured me completely. Our story has been... unconventional, to put it plainly. We were colleagues first, then friends, then you became my best friend, and I thought I couldn't be happier than that. But maybe it has something to do with some chemicals in the brain that are stimulated when you hang around someone you admire and adore long enough - you know, science stuff - or fate. I don't necessarily believe in either, but I do believe in us, Spencer. I believe that we are two souls choosing to become one for the rest of our lives; I believe you are my person, and the one I choose to face each and everyday with; I believe we haven't overcome all that we have for nothing; and I am not the least bit surprised it took nearly getting blown up to admit how I truly feel about you.'

Spencer couldn't care that what you said about brain chemicals was technically incorrect, it was so you, and there was not a dry eye in the backyard as you looked up at him finally, sheet long forgotten, and (e/c) eyes shining bright with tears and love.

'I love you, Spencer Reid,' you said breathlessly, but loud enough for everyone to hear. 'You have experienced the worst of humanity over and over again, and yet here you stand with me, smiling, happy, choosing to believe in happy endings. You are a wonder - my wonder - and I can't wait to spend everyday from now loving you, and being wowed by you. From now... until I cannot breathe, and even then beyond.'

You gave the paper back to JJ, then returned your full attention to Spencer. It was like it was only you two, the clapping from your guests dulled as well as Rossi's final words. But Spencer didn't miss a beat when he heard him say, 'By the power vested in me and my online-approved minister credentials, I pronounce you husband and wife. Go on kids, you've earned it.'

Spencer swooped you into the sweetest, loving kiss he could muster, gently cradling your neck and cheeks as your lips met in a soft collision. It wasn't lustful (that would certainly come later), but it was consuming, like two forces being pulled together by a magnet. You were separate entities choosing to become one, and it made you smile through your kiss and for the rest of the afternoon and well into the evening.

You both partied with your family and friends, but you always managed to find your way back to one another despite the chaos. He now cradled you gently as you swayed together on the dance floor, fatigue settling in. You held each other up as you did, content to just be with each other in the final moments of your special day. Emily, your new section chief, had ordered you both take two weeks off to celebrate your honey moon. Because God knew when the next time you'd be able to relax would be when you both came back to work.

You shifted in his arms, manoeuvring yourself to look up at him, a delirious, tired and happy smile adorning your pretty lips. 'I love you, Spencer Reid.'

He leaned in for a brief but loving kiss before saying, 'I love you, (Y/n) Reid.'

Something about how his last named paired with your first name sounded that warmed him inside. The same feeling lit up in your eyes, but maybe that was just the happy tears that formed there, too.

'We're the Reids now,' you whispered in disbelief, probably due to the amount of alcohol you had consumed throughout the day. 'You're my husband!'

'Yes I am,' he murmured, pulling you back to his chest to lay your head. 'Forever and always.'

The last time he heard you say those special words was the day you said goodbye.

It wasn't until you fell pregnant with your first child that you found a proper house to live in. You'd been content with the studio apartment you'd found and moved into one year into your relationship, but when you fell pregnant, Spencer knew you would need a bigger space. One that you could call your own and make a home out of.

Your forever home.

Surprisingly, it hadn't taken long to find something: a nice rustic, two-storey house on the outskirts of DC. It was in a nice neighbourhood , far enough out of the city to be quiet, but close enough you could both get to work quick enough in case of an emergency. The moment you'd laid eyes on it, you fell in love with it, and Spencer knew without question this would be where you brought your family up.

He traipsed through the house with two cups of tea. Coffee had started to disagree with him after he quit the BAU, as if that were the only place he needed it. Teaching and guest lecturing at all the local universities was nowhere near the stress level of the BAU, and so he'd switched to tea. Somehow, in his (as he called it) pre-retirement, it tasted sweeter.

You had stepped down from being a profiler at the BAU after your third child was born, realising that with a four and two year old waiting outside the birth suite to meet their baby brother, you couldn't risk leaving your three babies without a mother. And while leaving the BAU, your home of close to twenty years, wrought a grief out of you that was close to unbearable, you knew it was the right decision and right time.

And you soon found a love for writing - fiction, non-fiction, poetry, it didn't matter. What you'd experienced in your career as a profiler had changed you, and sometimes writing it out made it less haunting, it gave you closure. You went on book tours, consulted on scholarly and literary journals, you even were brought into Spencer's classrooms to guest lecture from time to time.

All the while building and loving the family both of you had always dreamed of.

Spencer smiled at the dusty pictures that lined the walls, of the faces of his children and grandchildren smiling back him. Of the faces of friends old and new, of ghosts he used to know from a time long gone. Sometimes he hardly recognised himself in those pictures. He wasn't the vain type, but when he looked at himself in his 20's and 30's, he couldn't help the yearning that pulled at his heart when he did.

He compared those youthful pictures against his present day, laughing at the barely existent grey stubble he now sported, of the white hair that curled and stood up in any and all directions, of the glasses he now permanently had to wear. You always said he looked sexier with glasses, anyways, so he didn't mind.

Those pictures were his memory, his legacy, his life. When he felt his brain burning, when his memory became a bit too fuzzy, he could always look at the pictures and find solace in how those moments would live on in the people he loved.

'Spence?'

Your voice prompted him to keep moving, to let go of the past and remain in the present. He wandered through the rest of the house to the backyard, where two garden chairs sat either side of a coffee table, looking over the yard. The gardens were filled with flowers of all shapes and colours. He wasn't a nature guy by any means, but Spencer wanted you to have something to look after other than him or the children, something you could be proud of when you were much older. So he'd planted it himself (okay, he needed help from Derek), filling it with flowers that expressed all the wonderful qualities he loved about you.

There was a small gardening shed in the back, a quaint barbecue/entertainment area to one side, and a build-your-own playground just sitting on the lawn. He found you sitting comfortably in one of the chairs, staring out at the yard contently. He placed both cups of tea on the table before taking his own seat in the other chair.

'Do you remember how Jason used to carry Diana on his back up the slide?' you asked gently, a fond smile cracking your dry lips at the memory of your children playing on the very same playground their children now played on when they visited. 'You always got so scared they would fall and hurt themselves.'

'Isn't that our job?' he asked, taking a sip of his tea. 'To worry for our children?'

'You didn't have to be a helicopter parent, though,' you jibed playfully. 'You got better when Aaron was old enough to climb himself, so I can't berate you for that.'

'Speaking of which, Aaron just called, said him, Rachel and the kids want to invites us to dinner on Friday.'

You turned and smiled at him, but he saw how tired you were. It was in the slight droop in your lips when you smiled, it was in the slouch of your shoulders, it was the way you held out your hand for him to grasp and you could barely squeeze him back. You'd been like this for days, and it broke Spencer's heart to see the love of his life slowly fade away right beside him. He knew it was a natural way of life - considering their previous occupations, he was grateful to be even given the chance to grow old with you.

But despite natural law and despite his many blessings, it didn't dull the ache that grew more painful everyday.

'You don't have to be here, Spence,' you said, voice barely above a whisper, like it was just a secret only you two shared. 'You've seen enough death already.'

Spencer placed his cup on the table before getting out of his chair (a feat he struggled withe everyday now, his BAU days finally catching up to him) and walking around to your side, bringing both his hands to clasp yours as he knelt beside you.

'I'm not going anywhere,' he said, willing every ounce of sincerity and love into his words, into his hands as he held your frail ones. 'Forever and always, remember?'

Spencer almost broke down when your eyes locked with his, those shining (e/c) orbs sparkling with life and mischief and wonder. Despite what time had done to you, you were still his (Y/n), his best friend, his partner, his lover and saviour.

You nodded as if to say yes, I do remember. I always will. You pull one hand free of his grip, and use it to cradle his wrinkled cheeks. 'We've lived a good life, haven't we, Spence?'

He pulled one hand away to caress your hand on his cheek, holding it there for as long as he could. 'Yes. Yes we have.'

Your eyes scanned over him, suddenly seeing your life in rewind.

You saw him as he was now, white, Einstein hair, wrinkled skin and glasses. Then with only little streaks of white in his hair, more sleek. That's how he was with the kids. You kept going back, to your wedding, to your engagement, to the first time you kissed. Every movie night, every case, every late night in the office. Until you were seeing him as if for the first time. Kind of dorky, kind of sweet, wide-eyed and bushy-tailed to explain to you how his "physics magic" worked that very first day in the office.

It was like he was seeing you for the first time as well, as you smiled your bright smile like you did on that first day. The smile you had smiled for him every day since. The smile he saw in your children, and then your grandchildren.

'You are a true wonder, Spence,' you whispered softly, using what little strength you had left to squeeze the hand that still clasped yours as if to say thank you. 'My wonder.'

He waited for the lump in his throat to form, for the words to get stuck in his throat like they always did before. But the lump never formed, and so the words flowed like water out of him, finally feeling right.

'And you are mine,' he whispered back, smiling as bright as he could for you as he held you. 'You always have been my wonder.'

You bring his lips to yours one last time before dropping your hand from his face and sitting back in your seat, looking more tired than you'd ever been. But your other hand still held his, and he certainly wasn't going to let you go. Not yet.

'Spence,' you wheezed, eyes struggling to stay open on him.

Spencer pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, using his now free hand to stroke your grey hair in soothing motions. 'It's okay. You can rest now. I'll join you soon enough.'

The slight dip of your chin let him know you understood, and soon after you closed your eyes, your hand grew slack in his hold and your chest ceased rising.

You were gone.

And he was still here.

It was only then did Spencer allow the tears to fall, to acknowledge that despite both of your acceptances, he was sad. You'd lived good, long lives, and even then Spencer believed it was not enough time to love all of you. He knew it was selfish, but he figured after all he'd been through he would be allowed this one wish.

He held you for another hour before he called your children to notify them of your passing.

He held on for another year before he joined you. Cause of death: a broken heart.

He was buried beside you in the family lot, and on your joint headstone, it wrote:

Here lies Dr. Spencer Reid and Mrs. (Y/n) Reid. Loving Husband and Wife and Parents. "You truly are a wonder."

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kaylatoonz · 8 months ago

Text

Amelia Rose Thorndyke (movie Amy Rose)

I know there’s a slim chance of this happening but I think it would be interesting if they gave the human characters from Sonic X another chance, the Thorndyke to be more specific.

Context: (probably take place in movie 3)

Backstory- Just like in the show, Chris is a pretty lonely kid until Amy Rose crashes into his life 6-7 years ago (literally crashing into their family pool). After a late-night rescue, Chris takes in the small pink hedgehog to make sure it’s OK. Chris originally wanted to keep Amy a secret, but those plans were ruined the very next morning when Chuck, Ella, and Mr. Tanaka discovered her when Chris was trying to find food suitable for the little pink hedgehog. They were a bit skeptical at first, but after some convincing from Chris’s end was allowed to stay until he could confront his parents about it. Chris was concerned that their growing friendship would be cut short once his parents returned, luckily Amy managed to warm her way into the hearts of everyone in the household, even his parents and uncle. Years later Amy Rose is considered a part of the family and is spoiled with love thanks to Lindsey and Ella. Over the years Amy was able to chase away Chris’s loneliness but unfortunately not her own. Although Amy spends much of her time with Chris and her family, she feels isolated from the outside world. She understands the rules set by Mr. And Mrs.Thorndyke to never go outside to keep her safe, but she still can’t help but feel sad that she can’t meet anyone new or someone like her.

Those feelings come to an end when a shocking new cast reveals three beings that were like her, the blue hedgehog the most. The second the story was over Amy rushed over to her parents begging them to take her to green hills to meet these heroes. They immediately shoot down the idea, saying it’s too dangerous, and it could be a trap. This leads to a heated argument between the three ending with Amy being grounded until further notice. Feeling defeated Amy goes to her room as told. Left alone with her thoughts once again she came to one conclusion, she was going to take things into her own hands. That night she runs away to find the three heroes and hopefully go on an adventure to remember.

Sonic and Amy- unlike other iterations of Amy and Sonic's don’t see eye to eye as much at least at the start. Before Amy met the gang she built this image of the heroes that don’t quite compare to who they are. Despite this she gets along with knuckles and tails (though they are nothing like she imagined) it’s Sonic she has a problem with. Not only did he fail to meet every expectation she had for him, he’s also a jerky, reckless idiot in Amy's eyes. Sonic was always doing or saying something stupid getting them into trouble. Not to mention he always left her behind and never took her seriously (that is no way to treat a lady). This prompts her to prove him wrong by jumping head-first into danger that she believes she can handle (she is a bit of a hypocrite). On Sonic’s end, he sees Amy as a spoiled reckless brat who doesn’t understand anything. It’s a bit harsh but it's hard not to think that she is constantly getting into trouble when she can barely control her powers and keep making things difficult when he tries to leave her somewhere safe (sonic is also a hypocrite). Worst of all she left behind a perfectly good family to go on an “adventure”. Sonic would have done anything to have Tom and Maddie as a family on day one, so Amy's drives frustrated him. These frustrations grow during the adventure eventually leading to a heated argument between the two hedgehogs (similar to the argument Sonic had with Tom in the first film). Amy leaves the team hurt and conflicted by her original hope and goal.

“Was she selfish for running away in hopes of meeting others like her? Should she just return home where she’d be safe and out of their way?” She couldn’t help but feel guilty for her behavior towards the team (specifically Sonic) and her parents. She had come all this way to meet them only to show how much of a burden she was and she probably had her family worried sick. Wanting to set things right she decided to head back to the team to give them a proper apology before returning home where she would be out of their hair (quills) for good. Before she can do anything she gets kidnapped by Eggman or Shadow.

Back with team Sonic, Knuckles and Tails are disappointed by how Sonic handled things. They agree that Amy can be a bit of a handful at times but she has also proven to have her strengths (though there’s room for improvement). Tails even insisted that they have a lot in common if they BOTH take the time to get to know each other. Sonic disagrees that he’s anything like her until he crosses paths with Chris.

It turns out that as soon as the Thorndykes found out Amy Rose was missing Mr and Mrs Thorndyke heard straight to green hills while Chuck and Chris followed their trail to find Amy ( behind Nelson and Lindsey's back of course). This leads to them eventually catching up with Sonic and the gang but still no sight of Amy.

Upon meeting with the humans, they both learn that Amy has been kidnapped. Like everyone else, Sonic shares concerns for Amy's safety, though he lets slip an offhanded comment about her getting into trouble again which Chris and Chuck don’t take lightly.

On the way to rescue Amy, the team gets to know the new humans leading to a heart-to-heart between Sonic and Chris (this could work with Chuck but I think Chris needs some redemption after his Sonic X iteration). Chris let Sonic know that there’s more to Amy than her sometimes feisty nature. She’s always proven to be the most kind and compassionate person he has ever known and is always doing something amazing when no one‘s around to appreciate it (foreshadowing of the scene with Shadow and Amy). He also laments his mistake of not noticing sooner how lonely and isolated Amy felt which caught Sonic’s attention. As Chris continues he reveals to Sonic how having a family from the beginning Amy never had as much freedom to explore or had any friends of her own. She didn’t even know there were others like her a couple of weeks ago. Knowing this Sonic felt he owed Amy a second chance and maybe an apology.

Fast forward after rescuing Amy, Shadow, and Amy’s scene, the team saves the world (this going on long enough)

With the day bringing save and families reunited Sonic and Amy meet face to face once again. Before Sonic can voice his apology Amy starts to tearfully apologize to Sonic about her behavior. To comfort her, Sonic hugs Amy telling her he’s sorry he wasn’t the nicest guy either. Sonic even suggests that they could start over and she can join the team. Amy agrees to start over but suggests that she hold off on joining the team for a bit. She doesn’t believe she’s ready to team due to her lack of control over her abilities (at the time sonic and Amy didn’t know about the impact Amy had on shadow and how it helped a lot in the long run. Amy also feels she needs a lot of self-reflection after their adventure (she’s still guilty for causing so much trouble for the team and possibly being responsible for Shadow's sacrifice himself).

After some parting banter (less rough compared to their first meeting) Amy promises when they meet again for their next adventure she’ll be stronger than ever.

First thing when the hedgehogs arrive home both get teased by their siblings/family about their new friend).

Bonus content:

Chris and Amy have a sibling relationship, so like siblings, they can get on each other's nerves from time to time.

Nelson and Lindsey both help fund the Wachowski’s expenses that the government won’t help cover for Sonic, tails, and knuckles. Chuck also helps fund tails projects cause he has taken a liking to the little fox (though the project Chuck and Tail work on together can get a bit wild).

Chris, Chuck, and Tails whenever they visit each other work on new inventions together. This may include an explosion or two, much to the concern of the adults (between the Wachowskis and the Thorndyke).

Although Sonic and Amy are on better terms they often have a hard time complimenting each other face to face stating that it would “go to their head”. Occasionally a compliment sometimes does slip out from one of them which causes both of them to become flustered whenever it happens.

Sonic and Amy, both still share banter, though it comes out a bit flirtatious to onlookers which knuckles, tails, and Chris happily teased them about.

After their adventure, Amy loses a bit of confidence in herself and holds a lot of guilt for nearly costing Sonic his life (when Sonic got shot into space trying to rescue Amy) and the loss of shadow. This is one of the many reasons Amy is hesitant to join the team even when she gets better control of her powers. When Sonic learns of this, he isn’t having it, giving Amy a heart-to-heart talk about how she should give herself more credit ( and maybe mentioning how he’s been through something similar).

Sonic eventually learns about what Amy did for Shadow and other “small” deeds that helped the team a lot more than Amy thinks. Sonic gained a lot of respect and admiration for her after that. (He’ll let her know that whenever Amy is being too hard on herself with her shortcomings).

Whenever Sonic and Amy go on their “not date” dates Sonic offers to pay for the expenses despite Amy being loaded. (Amy’s not sure if he's just being a gentleman or he forgot she’s rich but she’ll take it).

Despite having a rough introduction with Ella(Amy nearly gave Ella a heart attack when she first arrived), Amy and Ella have the strongest bond, especially in the kitchen. They both enjoy cooking delicious meals and baked goods for the whole family to enjoy. And whenever Sonic and the gang come to visit she always appreciates the extra hands she gets in the kitchen. The boys also appreciate the food Amy and Ella make for them when they visit.

Mr. Tanaka serves as a butler and bodyguard to the Thorndyke household. He gives both Amy and Chris self-defense lessons to show that he cares about them in his own way (and to keep them safe). Mr. Tanaka was originally on the fence with Sonic due to Amy losing so much of her confidence in herself the last time she interacted with Sonic. Once he gets both sides of the story, he’s more understanding, though he is still protective of Miss Rose when Sonic is around.

Sam Speed and Amy often have a hard time seeing eye to eye with each other due to Sam’s blunt and overconfident nature. Similar to Sonic X, Sam developed a rivalry with Sonic once he learned of Sonic's super speed.

#amy rose #sonamy #sonic movie 3 #movie amy rose #sonic the hedgehog #procreate #shadow the hedgehog #miles tails prower #knuckles the series #knuckles the echidna #sorry if there’s errors #sonic X #chris thorndyke #Thorndyke AU #sonic movie au #movie amy rose au

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eatmeandbirthmeagain · 7 months ago

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hello! a little fic request I’ve been thinking on, not pressuring you to write it or anything, just wanted to share.

the y/n is a hot tempered foreign princess who got married to Baldwin when they were both children. she’s very energetic, straightforward, man-like in her character, but has to adapt to fit in the court of Jerusalem and also to „suit” her husband’s calm manner and the fact that he’s ill doesn’t help.

she’s unhappy about it; maybe even tears a little during the wedding, but doesn’t let anyone to think she may be vulnerable (mostly because she understand that that can be used against her in the future after Baldwin dies). but over the time she finds herself drawn to Baldwin because, well, unlike her teachers, he lets her study and play chess with him. he cares about her desires and interests. he also respects her, not just like a woman but as a friend, and a clever one. maybe some of her advice on the politics is used by him at some point (which would be absolutely unrealistic, but really, we’re talking historical romance with a leper king here…). a cute detail would be him gifting her a weapon of some sort to protect herself because he knows how she doesn’t like being treated like she’s helpless. bonus points if he says something romantic and or pathos’y about it.

did I write this whole oc story as a multiple chapter fanfiction in my head? yes, I did. am I going to finish it? absolutely no. but I’d love to read your interpretation!

♧ "Princess" - King Baldwin x Reader ♧

♧ Angst ♧

A/N: Hello Anon! So sorry for taking so long to write this, ive had so many requests. I'm not sure if this is what you had in mind but it was my interpretation and I hope you like it! I dont really like how it turned out as your request had so much detail and my writing does that no justice, but I hope its okay ☺️! As always, this is based on the film Kingdom Of Heaven, not the real historical figgures. This is also set pre-film. Enjoy!

TW: Leprosy

At thirteen years old, marriage was the last thing on young y/n’s mind. But yet, here she was. Soon to arrive in the city of Jerusalem, to be wed to a boy she had only ever met a handful of times.

Baldwin the fourth. The leper, who's mother just so happend to be ready to find him a wife at the same time her father was ready to find her a husband.

She sat in silence for the entire journey, this was uncommon for her. She usually always had something interesting to say or something to observe with curiosity. But as per request by her father, from now on she “had to act like a proper lady. No more of this ridiculous 'masculine' behavior”.

“You will be wed to a king y/n” he had told her. “You must stop acting the way you do. No king will be allowed such behavior from his wife”.

Her attempt to keep to herself for the journey had been successful so far. She remained silent and still. Just as her mother taught her. “Just how a lady should be”.

As the city came into view, y/n felt tears begin to burn her eyes. She would never again be allowed to explore the wilderness on her fathers land, or read every book she was allowed to have from the library. She surrendered herself to a life of boredom and suppression.

Once exiting the carriage, she was greeted by the royal officials as well as the king's mother.

“I am so pleased to finally meet you young lady" she greeted her with a smile "you shall make a fine wife for my son” . Y/n thanked her and was ushered off quickly to prepare her for the hour of the wedding.

Y/n held back tears as servants worked busily around the room. Dressing her in beautiful garments, jewelry, and makeup. She was distraught. But she dare not cry. They could not see her so weak.

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

The events proceeded and y/n barely even looked at the boy she was marrying. She could not bring herself to make eye contact with the man who would rule her life forever.

They told her to smile. “No man wants to see a lady disappointed on her wedding day” the king's mother had told her before they entered the church.

Baldwin himself was nervous about this day but just enthusiastic. Unlike y/n, he was looking forward to being wed to a young woman. He did not want just a wife to serve him, but a companion too. Someone who he could speak to about all kinds of things. Someone who would love him as much as he loved them. When he saw her, she looked beautiful, but sad. Very sad.

He hoped she was not sad about marrying him. Perhaps his illness deterred her from wanting to even be near him.

But she was still beautiful. She was 14, just like him. He could not take his eyes off her. He had met her a few times before, and she interested him deeply, even though they barely spoke. He more so just watched her play and talk with the other young people from his bedroom chamber window, longing to join them if it was not for his illness.

She played more with the young boys than she did with the girls. Always full of energy and life, always talking and laughing. But now, she looked different. As if the light had been drained from her.

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

When the wedding was over, the young king and queen got acquainted in the boy's chambers. She still seemed very quiet and unsure about his presence.

“Are you alright?” He asked her the second they were alone. “Yes your highness” she replied in a small voice, very different to the excitable tone she used to have. She sighed and lowered herself onto the small couch, turning away from him to look at her hands.

Baldwin thought for a moment, but then remembered that his mother requested he chose a wedding gift to present her after the affairs.

“I have a gift for you,” he said happily, lightening the mood.

He noticed her eyes light up a little at the comment. “You do?”

“Yes, would you like to see it?”

Y/n nodded excitedly, a smile forming on her face for the first time all day. The boy stood and disappeared behind the red, satin curtains that covered the large windows. He returned a few seconds later with something behind his back and a wide smile.

"I had to hide it, so my mother did not see what I chose for you" he explained. This peeked y/n's intrest greatly.

“Alright, close your eyes, '' he told her, the smile still plastered to his face. Y/n shut her eyes with anticipation. When he told her to open her eyes, she was lost for words. In the young king's bandaged hands, he held a shining silver sword with a pale pink ribbon tied around the handle.

Her eyes widened and stared at the sword for a long time before taking it in her hands to admire it. “Do you like it?” he asked, cautiously, hoping he had not offended her.

“Baldwin.. I love it!!” she exclaimed with a grin, jumping to her feet and wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him into a tight hug. The smile returned to his face and he put his arms around her waist.

“Now you can defend yourself my love. No wife of mine will be left vulnerable, even if there are men to protect her. She will defend herself, because she is strong.” His words filled the queen with happiness and hope. Perhaps her father was wrong after all and she could remain as herself. At least in the presence of her husband.

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

From that day on, they were inseparable. Unlike y/n’s tutors and parents, he allowed her access to his entire private library so they could study and read together. He allowed her time to herself, so she could do the things she loved without anybody telling her how to behave.

He quite often went as far as to seek her out for advice on political issues, not allowing her straightforward intelligence to go to waste.

Overtime, y/n became used to her duties as queen, but as much as she learnt to fit the role, she treasured her time alone with Baldwin. He cared about her interests, her desires. He respected her, more than anyone else ever had. They played chess together as well, each game being a delightful battle of the mind.

He saw her as not just a wife, but as a companion and an intelligent one at that. And for this, she would be forever greatful.

#king baldwin #king baldwin iv #king baldwin iv x reader #king baldwin x reader #kingdom of heaven #king baldwin x you #kingdom of heaven fandom #kingdom of heaven 2005 #king baldwin iv x oc #the leper king #kindgdom of heaven #kingbaldwin #koh fandom #koh

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oo-delallymrcrow · 7 months ago

Text

First Impression

Summary: You and Cooper met for the first time, the feeling is electric and your chemistry is undeniable. You want to be professional but you can’t help the feelings he gives you with his charms.

A/N: I’m so excited for the future chapters. The build up is honestly killing me because I just want all the love and feels. But I promise the wait will be worth it, especially since that carriage scene (iykyk) has been stuck in my head when writing this story.

No warnings still.

Walking into the studio that day was a little nerve wracking. You were dressed up in your favorite pink dress, making sure to make a good first impression with the studio executives. Today was your first meeting with everyone. The cast and crew getting together to go over how filming will go. When everyone's schedule was and where everyone needed to be on what day.

You were busy looking around the studio's lobby when someone came walking up to you. You turned and flashed your brightest smile as you shook hands with the young man.

“Good afternoon Miss. L/N. My name is David and I will be your assistant on this film.”

“Well hello David please just call me Y/N.”

He smiled at you before pulling his hand away to motion down the hall.

“Alright Y/N. We're all meeting down in this conference room. It's mostly the actors for right now but everyone will meet on the set in studio one, cast and crew.”

You nodded along as he lead you down into the conference room. The door was slightly open so you can hear all the voices talking inside. You took in a deep breath before you walked through the door with David following behind.

“Here she is ladies and gentlemen. Our fabulous Y/N has graced us with her presence.”

You smiled as the man at the head of the table stood to walk to you. He brought your hand up to hold close to his chest as you giggled at his praise.

“My dear you are perfect for this part. I am so excited to have you playing Eleanor. I told the studio that I would have no other person for the part and if it wasn't you I wouldn't direct the movie.”

“Oh,” you realized that this man was the director, “you must be Tim. I am so excited to be apart of your movie. When I read the script I fell in love with the story.”

He smiled and waved his hand like your compliments were making him embarrassed. He gestured around the room and introduced you to everyone. He introduced you to James, a rival to your love interest; Elizabeth, who was playing your friend in the movie; and a few others.

“And finally the man of the hour.”

You gasped as the last man stood and flashed a bright smile to you.

“Cooper Howard! I am such a big fan of yours,” you gushed as you shook his hand. You felt yourself get a little red as he chuckled, realizing you were probably embarrassing yourself. You realized you were still shaking his hand, you went to pull it away when he surprised you. He brought your hand up and leaning over a little, brushing his lips against your knuckles.

“I'm honored to have such a big fan,” he pressed a kiss to them before standing upright, almost towering over you. “Especially one so pretty like yourself.”

Your mouth fell open a little as you felt yourself get a little heated at his intense stare. Tim slapped his shoulder with a laugh before gesturing to a chair next to Cooper's. Cooper pulled it out for you and you said a small thank you as you moved quickly to sit. You cleared your throat as you settled in and took a quick peek to see if anyone was looking at you after that introduction. Thankfully, everyone was already looking at Tim as he started going into depth about the movies story and how he wanted the next few months to go.

“Alright now that we have a planned schedule I think it's time for lunch,” Timm glances at the watch on his wrist. “Then we'll meet in Studio One to get with the crew. After that you'll all be shown to your trailers and we'll call it a day.”

Everyone stood and left in their little groups. You went to stand before a hand caught your arm, you turned as Cooper stood and placed his hands on the back of your chair, pulling it back to help you out. You blushed as you thanked him and took his hand in yours.

“Everyone kind of left in a hurry,” he spoke as he lead you out the door. You took note how you were still holding his hand as he walked you both out. “Would you like to grab lunch with me? We can talk about how we want our characters to interact.”

You blinked up at him as your brain took a moment to process. Lunch. With him. Yes, you would like to have lunch with him. You gave him a small smile as he stopped and looked at you for an answer.

“I think that's an excellent idea Mr. Howard.”

He gave you a chuckle as he opened the door to lead outside, this time placing his hand in the small of your back to guide you out.

“Please sweetheart. We're going to be working very closely together, just call me Cooper.”

You turned your head to stare up at him as you spoke in a soft voice, “alright Cooper. I would like to have lunch with you.”

You swear his eyes darted down to your lips but as soon as you blinked he was pushing you forward to walk over to the little cafeteria that everyone was headed to. As you entered, you noticed a lot of people were looking at the two of you and whispering to each other. You ignored that as you walked forward and grabbed a sandwich and some cut up fruit with a water bottle.

You know what everyone was whispering about. Everyone has heard of Cooper Howard and the nastiness of his divorce and the roles he's lost. The rumors that flowed through Hollywood and into offices. Your agent, Amelia Evans, even gossiping with you about it. But you were never one to judge someone, especially in such situations that you have never experienced. So you decided to not listen to others opinions and get to know Cooper.

As you turned to choose a table you didn't like how loud and cramped it felt, so you decided to enjoy the sunshine and sit outside. You could feel a few stares as you walked toward the door, a hand shooting out to grab rhe handle.

“Let me get that for you sweetheart.” Cooper murmured close to your ear, making you shiver at how close he was to you. He followed you out to a table and again pulled out your seat.

“You really don't have to be so nice Cooper,” you muttered as you glanced at your fruit cup. He sent a charming smile to you as he sat across from you.

“My momma taught me that I should always be respectful and a gentleman to everyone, especially to women.”

“Well I would like to thank her for raising such a respectful man.”

You smiled at his explanation and took a bite out of your sandwich, the both of you eating in peaceful silence. You thought that you would be awkward around the actor, especially with how famous and older he is, but you were quite comfortable around him.

”I’m surprised you wanted to eat with me.”

That brought your thoughts to a halt as he said that. You gave him a confused look as you took a sip of water. He was avoiding your gaze at this point so you spoke up.

”Why is that Cooper?”

”Well, with everything that happened.” He brought his hand up to gesture to himself. “I ain’t exactly popular with everyone right now. Especially with all the rumors and being casted out like nothing. I’m just surprised you sat with me. I wouldn’t blame you if you quit the movie.”

You shot your hand out to hold his hand that was on the table. You were that a little shock traveled up your arm and cleared your throat as you both stared down at your hands.

”I was taught by my father to never judge a book by its cover. I’ve held that rule close to me and I think that's what gave me so many opportunities to live the life I’ve wanted. I never judged you Cooper. There are so many rumors and tabloids about your life, I didn’t want to immediately judge you on them without knowing your story. So of course I agreed to have lunch with you and I will gladly stay in this movie.”

The words you said brought a smile to his face. He brought your hand up, kissing the back of it. His eyes caught yours as he spoke very softly, his lips brushing your hand with every word he spoke.

”Thank you sweetheart. I say you’re smarter than everyone I have worked with. I appreciate that you still want to work with me, especially with how pretty you are.”

That brought a faint blush to your cheeks at his words and how he’s still holding your hand. You gave him a smile as you both went back to eating your lunch. As you both finished up, David walked up to your table.

”Mr. Howard, (Y/N), I was told that the crew is still building one of the sets on Studio One so we will not be meeting there today. Wednesday is when filming starts so please be here at five in the morning for makeup. Would you like me to show you to your trailers?”

Cooper spoke up as you went to stand, “I know where they are. I’ll show (Y/N) where they are.”

”Okay.” David smiled at the both of us then looked at me with a clap of his hands. “My number is next to the phone in your trailer. If you need anything from me, don’t hesitate to call.”

”Thank you David,” you smiled at him then he was on his way. You looked back to Cooper as he gathered the trash from lunch to throw away.

”Come on sweetheart. Your trailer is next to mine.”

When he flashed another bright smile at you and walked to the trash can, the thought of Cooper’s trailer next to yours made you feel heat in your lower belly.You shook your head and tried to stop a few thoughts from flooding. The man got divorced and has been through a lot, nothing would happen between you two. Plus why would anything happen? You just met the man and you already felt a certain attraction to him.

It didn’t help that he was handsome, even with the scruff and slightly long hair, but you did have a slight crush on the man. You had a little thing for his character in ‘A Man and His Dog’. His charm on screen and off screen with his sweet words and actions did make you melt a little every time he spoke, his accent helped as well. Plus his eyes, they wanted you to get lost in them. With the way they shined and were so expressive. You wanted to get to know him better and the thought of spending months together made you giddy with nervousness and excitement.

”Ready to go?”

“Yes sir,” you smiled at him and paused at an emotion that filled his eyes. You didn’t know exactly what it was but as you stood it quickly went away. He offered his arm to you and you took it, intertwining your arms together, placing your hand on his bicep.

Taglist: @danveration , @thespritepepsi

#cooper howard #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #fallout #falling for you series

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canmom · 2 months ago

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the adventure of canmom at weird weekend (part 1)

is this 'adventure of' joke getting old? like I've already done the 'translate into scots gaelic' variant. it's not exactly an adventure if it's a half hour bike ride is it? ah fuckit

This weekend was the Weird Weekend film festival in Glasgow! it's the tiny kind of film festival with one screen and folding chairs - they did get their hands on a real beast of a projector mind you...

Look at that concentrated beam of pure film. Kind of awesome to actually see a lightfield intense enough to scatter off random bits of dust in the air honestly.

This is apparently the fourth time this festival has run - though as is often the case I'm terribly out of the loop and only heard about it when @birdfriender told me it was on lol. It's also only my third time going to a film festival (the previous times both being Annecy, a very different kind of festival). It was a great time: the organisers have excellent taste and there's a lot of deep cuts, and made some good friends among the attendees.

On Friday night I showed up for the opening evening of interactive film - this included a short film/video essay commissioned for the festival based on of all things the Goncharov meme (seriously...), followed by a brief history of interactive film including the amusingly ill-fated venture of a certain former Microsoft guy called Bob something (I really should have written this down), and then someone called Puke ("everyone’s favourite genderfluid body fluid") came out dressed like this to oversee the actual event...

...and we watched of all things Final Destination 3 with the DVD feature that lets you switch in alternate scenes at various points (mostly death scenes). This was actually a pretty good time since it was my first time seeing a Final Destination film, and there was a good energy in the audience (although it seemed like the film always picked the opposite of what we voted for - not sure if that's a thematic point or programming error lol), but I'm glad the rest of the festival was more obscure stuff.

On Saturday, the festival proper began! I am reminded of a certain line in Exordia, in which the alien Ssrin gives her assessment of humanity, opening with "You’re a species of gangly distance runners, adapted to sweat and throw stuff. You like watching each other fuck." And indeed, there were few films this weekend that did not offer an opportunity to watch someone fuck. That's art for ya babey.

Looking back the clear highlight was Louise Weard's film Castration Movie I: Traps, but more on that anon - let's start at the beginning. I ended up catching all but one of the films over the course of the weekend and there was maybe only one I'd call an outright miss, so great going in all.

On Saturday we opened with a pair of Hungarian films directed by György Révész, about an incredibly up himself intellectual-in-exile named Dr. János Bátky - the self insert of author Antal Szerb. the first film, The Loves of a Dilettante, sees Bátky going through a series of affairs with women around him - in each case abruptly ending the relationship because it doesn't conform to his specific fantasy. The reasons become increasingly absurd: at first Bátky wishes instead that his partner is a certain Countess, but when he chances to meet the lady herself, he refuses to believe she is who she says she is; at last another woman at the library turns out to be the secret admirer who has been sending Bátky gifts in the post, and he cannot stand to be pursued instead of the manipulative pursuer he fancied himself to be, and spurns her as well.

Bátky is very much the butt of the joke in this film, and the ending sees everyone pretty much done with his bullshit; at the same time, he is an entertaining character, with a nonstop patter full of literary allusions, bizarre tangents and dubious observations. Not so charming that I can quite see why all these women are throwing themselves at him, but that's the conceit of the film I suppose! The actor playing him, Iván Darvas does a splendid job of making this sideburned wanker come across as interesting enough to carry a film.

The second Bátky film, The Pendragon Legend was a major tonal departure from the first - and also featured a different cast, despite including a number of the same characters. (Funnily enough Iván Darvas returns, but as a different character.) This time, rather than a study of Bátky's foibles, we have a complicated conspiracy at a stately home in wales, tying in with biological experiments, immortal sorcerors and the Rosicrucians, assassination plots, affairs; the works. It ends up a lot of fun, although the sheer number of characters made it a little hard to keep track of everything. Here, Bátky is pulled in as almost an observer of all the shit going down, and comes across a lot more sympathetic as a result.

All in all, a pretty fascinating pair of films and window into Hungarian cinema. With both these films set in London and Wales but voiced entirely in Hungarian, it seems to present an amusing alternate universe in which Hungary is the language of the UK, but nobody knows where Hungary is. It's a very old-school 'from outside' view of the UK, full of tea-sipping aristocrats and walks in the park and intellectual conversations in a library - it's quite funny to me. I haven't seen a ton of Hungarian film (mostly animation), but everything I've seen has been fascinating, and terribly literary.

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A whole lot of the films in this festival were restorations of various out of print films, and that includes to the next one, Treasure Island directed by Scott King. This film has absolutely nothing to do with Stephenson's book, instead referring to the island near San Francisco where mail was processed during the second world war.

The basis of the story is the historical Operation Mincemeat, in which the British constructed a false identity for a corpse and planted it to mislead the Nazis; here the story is transplanted to the American invasion of Japan, but the focus is hardly wartime intrigue, instead the psychosexual inner lives of the two Americans who are involved in constructing the fake identity for the corpse. One of them secretly has two wives, one a white civilian woman and the other a Japanese woman who works in translation for the military; the other habitually invites other men for group sex with him and his wife and has a whole lot of hangups about how he is not gay, and that corpse is not at all sexy thank you.

As the film progresses, both of them are increasingly struck by visions of the dead man talking to them and the line between 'reality' and fantasy gets blurrier. It's a very well crafted and engaging film; shot in black and white in 1999, it aimed to challenge the rather sanitised and straightforwardly heroic picture of the 'Greatest Generation' who fought the war, presenting a more 'warts and all' look with the sexuality and racism and so forth in full view. I found it very effective! And it was cool to have the director there, a bearded American guy who spoke very confidently about his intentions for the film - I got to ask a question about how he kept all the fantasy and more literal elements straight while scripting the film.

(Do you find that when you get a Q&A session like this, you really want to ask a good question? Because I do. It's very silly. But like if I am going to hold the mic and get the spotlight on me... sure I don't want to waste peoples' time, but also I kinda want to come off well lmao. If I can get people to go 'ooh that's a good question' I feel like I've won audience Q&A, a real thing that is reasonable to want.)

In the afternoon we got a massive block of trans films old and new. We opened with Scarecrow in a Garden of Cucubers featuring Holly Woodlawn; Jaye Hudson of the TGirlsOnFilm Instagram account (which I was not previously familiar with) gave an introduction, telling the story of how Woodlawn came into the orbit of Warhol's 'Factory', and reading out some funny anecdotes about her experience on set. As Jaye talked about it, at that point in the 70s, trans girls were kind of the flavour of the month and we appeared in a bunch of films at the time, of which this was one.

The film sees a girl called Eve Harrington moving to New York in pursuit of the dream of becoming an actress; there she meets a series of weirdos from taxi-driving nuns to 'Mary Poppins', the drag empress of a kind of roommate finding service who's always trailed by worshipful boys. Most of the film sees Eve trying to find an apartment and a boyfriend, and running into various 70s archetypes along the way: a werewolf (also played by Woodlawn in boy mode), political lesbians, a plant-obsessed hippy, and finally a taciturn amnesiac Russian woman and her brother, a little person in a cowboy outfit who does pro wrestling. It's an intriguing slice of the 70s and of New York in particular.

Apparently this film has long been out of print and only narrowly evaded being lost media, so it's pretty sick to see. (And honestly despite the long cultural shadow they cast, I don't actually know that much about the girls around Warhol's 'Factory', so I was glad to get a look in.)

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Next up we had 'An Untitled and Perfectly-Legal Coming-of-Age Clown Parody Film' - not hard to figure out what film this is (The People's Joker), especially with the still and trailer right there, but while the courts in the US seem to have come down on recognising it as a valid Fair Use defence, the legal status is still a bit up in the air in the UK.

This one got a lot of buzz for thumbing its nose at Warner Bros.' copyright empire - and of course being part of a recent wave of trans girl directed independent films such as I Saw The TV Glow. It's a trans girl coming of age story built around the Batman milieu, and clearly by people with a pretty thorough knowledge of Batman's cinematic history and DC universe deep cuts (the final act involves a musical number with Mx. Mxyzptlk, played as a puppet, which I'm sure means something if you read the comics).

It's largely shot on greenscreen, with all kinds of mixed media and animation segments - deliberately going for a grungy, chaotic look where it doesn't try to match lighting and animation styles (there's a whole bunch of indepedent animators contributing brief segments here, much as in Barber Westchester). The story concerns Joker the Harlequin, a trans girl who finally moves away from her controlling mother after being drugged with 'Smylex' for most of her life; now in Gotham she can transition, have a dodgy relationship with a trans guy (who is also a version of the Joker, and - spoilers - a former Robin), and build an 'anti-comedy' club with most of the usual Batman villains before going to confront the cultish institution which controls all legal comedy in post-'cyber war' America.

The film's strongest aspect is, fittingly, jokes - throwaway lines about the casually dystopian setting ('drag was outlawed after the explosion at RuPaul's fracking ranch' got a big laugh); a running joke of namedropping cancelled comedians with 'before the unpleasantness, of course' 'of course'; the playful riffs on past Batman films. The core story, though, is a fairly by-the-numbers queer/trans coming of age about self-acceptance, parental mistreatment and finding community, and a bit of a satire on SNL which is perhaps more specific to the director's history - I get the purpose of this kind of narrative and I certainly needed it at a time, and wrote similar stories myself, but it's a kind of story I'm kind of increasingly tired of hearing. I don't mean to say it's bad for that - just it doesn't resonate the way it might have ten years ago.

Honestly, I think trying to make a 'trans movie' kind of paints you into a formulaic corner. A corner very deftly avoided by the next movie, Louise Weard's Castration Movie Part I: Traps. This was the theatrical debut of this movie, though it's been available to download on Weard's gumroad for some time.

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Louise Weard made herself kind of notorious for her previous movie, ten years ago, Computer Hearts, but even more so for her castration scene supercut at the Fantastic Fest '100 Best Kills' event a couple of years ago - something that has left her feeling a bit pigeonholed into castration scenes. Part of the joke about Castration Movie is then that it's eight hours (only half of that presently available) of trans girls being sad (emotional drama) without any castration until the very end of the movie. It doesn't even come up in the first half.

Technically, this is a four hour long movie - the first part of an eight hour long movie! - consisting largely of very long takes of naturalistic conversations shot on an incredibly grainy camera, now and then mixing that with musical montage and sex scenes. Something I'd raise an eyebrow at on description, and I want to kind of lead with that because like, no joke, this is legit one of the best movies I've seen; those four hours absolutely fly by. Incredibly sharp character writing, incredibly strong naturalistic acting - and unreasonably funny, just way too much.

The first hour or so focuses on Turner, an aspiring film director who spends his time working odd jobs at a film crew and increasingly torpedoing his relationship with his furry-artist girlfriend - someone he clearly isn't very compatible with and views with little actual interest, and his efforts to try and salvage the relationship ring false in ways he's clearly unable to see. But at every turn he doubles down and builds on his resentment and sense of emasculation, until he's picking fights with a living statue in the street and busting into his ex's room late at night.

Along the way we get all sorts of darkly funny conversations - Weard has an incredible eye for subtext and awkwardness, and can lend an ultimately very unsympathetic character like Turner enough sympathetic motivation to make his downward spiral completely human and convincing. It's both sad and terribly funny, perfectly pitched.

The punchline sees him posting to /r9k/ - and at this point we cut to a new story about 'Traps', the film's actual main character, a sex worker in Vancouver played by Weard herself, who is caught up with the drama of various partners and her own completely unresolved shit around transition to make her an entirely unsuitable would-be mentor figure to her friend Adeleine, who's kind of the deuteragonist of this act, cracking under the pressure of being the only one in the house with a shit but paying office job while her boyfriend gets top surgery.

The first act sets us up a frame to look at the second - Traps is a pretty messed up person, but in a deeply understandable way, and it serves in ways to show that the shit she's going through is not some unique trans girl thing but very much the torment of being a human. Desperate for connection and fucking it up, digging ourselves deeper while convinced it's the right thing to do. Along the way, we see her having various kinds of nasty sex, injecting DIY HRT, taking a bunch of cocaine, a trans guy getting top surgery, and various other fun things that I could never stream on twitch (or you bet I'd be planning a screening right away) - but it's also in many ways incredibly matter of fact about all this shit we get up to in a way that feels incredibly real.

It's a film that benefitted a lot from viewing with a largely transfem audience who would laugh at certain lines in the right spirit - I have no idea how this whole thing would come across if you aren't trans and don't know what 'agp' means (about the person saying it as much as anything) lmao. But if you are, it's like the film I never even knew I needed. It's way too real: from amusing setups like the polycule who has the access to DIY HRT trying to drag you into an argument about Dune before one of them wakes up and has a panic attack or daft conversations about boobs, to the pinpoint depiction of the kinds of neuroses we end up carrying from our shitty tenuous work, and of course the friction and fireworks of trying to care for each other when we're all burned out from carrying our own shit. Weard is fearless, and does seem to rather revel in being transgressive, but this is not edge for edge's sake.

And honestly this is 100% what 'trans film', if we can't help but have such a category, needs to be I think - a story heavily informed by the specific fucked up experiences of being trans but not like, About Being Trans(TM) in the way People's Joker was. Uncompromisingly honest (but with plenty of humour) about how we are, which is to say painfully human, rather than cheerfully painting the sort of freeing subculture we'd like to think we have.

I got to talk to Weard quite a bit on Sunday (ending up in a pub with her and a number of other mostly trans festivalgoers), and it turns out the slightly ludicrous length of the film wasn't even planned, with the original idea to edit it down to something like a standard 90 minutes - but when it became evident after shooting the first forty minutes or so that these long scenes were kind of absolute gold, someone (I forget who now) made the case that they shouldn't be cut down at all and to just go for the full behemoth. And honestly? They were fucking right. This did not feel like a four hour film, somehow. There were definitely other films this festival where my mind wandered and I kind of checked out a bit, but not this one.

As a chaser (ha ha) to that, we had Louise Weard's 'Unsee' segment, screened just once in the hour before the clocks change (which is in a certain sense lost to time, or at least that's the joke of this segment). An elaboration on the experience of presenting the castration scene supercut at the '100 Best Deaths' event, it dives into a reprise of that supercut before increasingly alternating with scenes of a kind of introspective monologue on how people reacted to that event and how far Louise herself started to end up feeling like the butt of the joke (even as random cis women accused her of being transphobic lmao).

As the video progresses it segues into an increasingly ridiculous sequence where two of Weard's friends step in (as substitute Louise Weards) reading out her essay of Lacanian film analysis on castration scenes in movies, while Weard (behind the camera) gives them directions to frame the shot to better show her cis ex's boobs. In between, more castration scenes! So many, most of them unfamiliar to me (funny moment when I finally recognised one and my brain was like hey! that's Sálo! and I found myself turning to face Violet with an excited grin before my brain caught up with that)

Among other things, the narration talks about the whole arc being a transgressive tgirl filmmaker who frequently faced some rather ridiculous accusations of being a transphobe or nazi troll (by TV Glow's Jane Schoenbrun, although it seems they have since made up), all in a time when it seems like a lot of her contemporaries in the transgressive film scene actually do seem to end up going nazi; the trouble of getting pigeonholed as the castration person, and so on - but also kind of playing with like oh, fifteen more castration scenes, that's what you want right? So many swerves, and the supercut was in fact very funny (I wonder if I find it easy to laugh instead of wincing since I actually have been castrated lmao), ending in a scene which is constructed to suggest Louise actually cut her balls off for the bit - though since she showed the prop penis earlier it was pretty clear that she didn't. (Yet..?)

It's a really clever bit and superbly entertaining bit of filmmaking, all told. I'm a full Louise Weard convert at this point, can't wait for castration movie part ii.

This post has gotten pretty long now, so I'll write up Sunday tomorrow. Do go watch Castration Movie tho, it's worth your time.

#film #louise weard #castration movie #film festival #the adventures of canmom

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