#vee's resident evil works

[decaf-mother]

[Vanilla]

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Ethan Winters x F!Reader

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Warnings: MDNI, Smut, Pussy Spanking, Bondage, Fingering, Orgasm Denial (Edging), Mean!Ethan

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Summary: Your not-so-vanilla husband corrects your behavior.

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Vanilla… Like the cake you baked for him for his birthday. That's how most saw your beloved husband - vanilla… Oh, but they couldn't be more wrong.

Sure, lots of nights he wanted to be soft and slow, make love to you like you were the only person in the universe that mattered…. But some nights it got filthy.

“I'm sorry!”

You yelped out as his hand meets your already sore pussy, a light slap delivered that sent a stinging pain straight through your very core, your legs held apart - ankles tied to the bedposts… Your hands cuffed to the headboard. Nowhere to go.

“Are you really, sweetheart? I don't think I believe you.”

You had thought it'd be fun to tease your husband earlier in the kitchen, wearing a cute sundress with no panties underneath, pretending to drop something and flashing him… Playing that game all morning - even though you knew he had to go to work and didn't have time to play… But god when he got home tonight.

“Color?”

“Green.”

His fingers dip into your pussy nice and slow, thumb rolling your sore clit, your body fights against the restraints but you're unsure if It's to get closer or get away. He repeatedly curls his fingers just right, having learned your body better than even you yourself knew.

“You're so damn greedy, y’know that?”

Your whine is broken and desperate as he pulls his beautiful fingers away, just as you were almost there, he simply flicks your clit lightly and watches the way you flinch again.

“This is your punishment, remember? Take it like a good girl.”

Oh and take it you did… Over and over. After all - your mold husband could be pretty relentless and certainly didn't lack energy.

[decaf-mother]

This looked like fun so I hope you don't mind me joining in!

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Wait no no no no shut up Kyle no that's not how you word this- [Kyle Garrick ~ Sharing Is Caring]

"Oh my god- you look like a powdered donut, love." [Kyle Garrick ~ Strawberry Shortcake]

"Yer elbows in me side." [Johnny Mactavish ~ Sugar Honey Iced Tea]

"Just my bruised ego." [Leon S Kennedy ~ Stitched Hearts]

"Ya drink blood...? Gross." [Peter Maximoff ~ Sweetly Crimson]

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@sofasoap @anna-banana27 @random0lover @macravishedbymactavish @deadbranch

Out of Context Quotes FanFic Game!

Rules:

Post funny/weird out of context quotes and/or thoughts from your fic(s) with the only context given is what character the quote is from.

Post as many or as few as you want. But maybe keep it under 50.

Tag other fic writers. You don't need to be tagged to join, however.

Optional: Add a link at the bottom to the fic(s) the qoutes and thoughts came from.

Sound good? Ok, I'll start.

Quotes under the cut. And all these are from a currently incomplete Resident Evil 2 Remake fic.

"Don't know. But I walked through there earlier and now I feel a little offended that a mythical beast was mooning me." - Leon

"Thanks, I dressed myself." - Claire

...what do I say? I was sure you were dead? I hated being here without you? Did it hurt when you fell from the fence? - Leon

"Yes, yes... if my tiny woman muscles give out over something that's less than ten pounds, I'll let ya know." - Claire

Good job, brain. Proud of you. - Claire

"Yeah but... with beer?!" - Leon

I mean, the only way I can top all that awkwardness is by blowing up. - Claire

"Ah, prom night... I can already tell this is gonna be bad." - Leon

"Look, how about this. You believe in me enough for both of us and maybe I'll succeed and not horribly maim you. Deal?" - Claire

"Now take that owl over there. Unlike you, he actually had a brain. Removed it myself..." - Irons

"Yes sweety. He blew up the car." - Claire

"Well, I'm starting to suspect I'm not gonna have a future here in Raccoon City considering everything is on fire and the populace is eating itself..." - Leon

"I was scooting around screaming like a chimp with his dick stuck in a mousetrap." - Claire

"Hey! You like my heels?! 'Cause I sure as fuck do!" - Ada

"Hey, here's a little secret, Leon. I'm kinda stupid." - Claire

A vending machine... A fucking vending machine! - Leon

"I have eyes and a memory that spans more than ten minutes." - Claire

"It made acid." - Sherry

"Ahh... just enough room, I'll probably only bump my head a few times. But that's ok, I got a pretty thick skull. Had to sacrifice a lot of brain space for that, but nobody's noticed so far." - Claire

Hey legs? I know we almost died again but maybe start working?! - Claire

"You want me to throw some toothbrushes at it?" - Leon

"Oh no, not dust! The horror! How will we ever survive?" - Claire

"You fell out the same window twice." - Leon

Whoa, hey there buddy! Where's that hand goin'?! I know you're excited to get that shotgun, but goddamn. - Claire

"I don't take orders from you. I will land on that pavement like a man!" - Leon

No, don't stop yet! I spent most of "nice comfort time" all pissed off. - Claire

"This thing is jiggling and I don't know what that means!" - Claire

"I'm not supposed to hit people with flashlights!" - Sherry

"Speaking of balls to the face... I got beaned in the head with a baseball once." - Leon

"My ass hurts." - Claire

---

And done! Sure were a lot from Claire lol. But yeah, all of these quotes came from this incomplete Cleon fic. Now, to tag people...

Let's go with @brokenangelwings22 @leonisdumbasallhell @nspired1fanfiction but anyone can join!

[al-of-the-stars]

poly vees! poly vees! where everyone loves eachother

anyways, the vee's find themselves attracted to an imp!reader (maybe only one or two at first). i love the upper class x lower class dynamic ajhs

the imp was originally just trying to be a thief in peace and rob them, but they get caught in the process.

gn! reader is more desirable but you can go for a fem or male reader if you want!!

-🍋 anon

"Stole our hearts. (and our money lol)"

A/n: Hi, 🍋! This reminded me a bit of Blitzo and Stolas from Helluva Boss lol Ik I said this before but I'm not too familiar with poly relationships so I'm so sorry if I got anything wrong! I did gn reader but I did mention reader wearing one of Velvette's dresses so I hope it doesn't make anyone uncomfortable! Hope you enjoy!!

Imps were never respected in the hell hierarchy. How ironic that the ones who fucked up enough to get sent here are treated better than the innocent demons who never even got a chance at life in the first place. This was the reason you decided to become a thief. If no one was willing to hire the lowlife so that you could make an honest living, you would steal to live a comfortable life. You weren't a Saint by any means but you weren't evil enough to steal from your own kind, only people who either deserved it or people who could afford to be stolen from. That includes overlords, and more specifically, your latest victims, the Vees. They were known for their social influence on the residents of hell, but you didn't really care much since overlords only live in the pride ring and imps usually residents in Imp City in the wrath ring. That, however, doesn't mean you won't travel there and take their shit. You were currently at Vee Tower late at night. Everyone was asleep so you had the perfect chance to do your job and quickly scurry off, or at least that's what you thought, You usually work fast but that doesn’t take into account the time constraint of Vox’s new security system. The moment you touched the vase, a loud alarm rang and a few seconds later, Vox and his tired partners came up to you. 

“What do you think you're doing,” Vox said, his business smile faltering. Shit. You underestimated this guy's inventions. “Oh.. uhhh..” you were at a loss for words. What were you even supposed to say? ‘Hey I was about to steal this vase that you own’? Absolutely not. Luckily for you, they didn't seem to mind as much as you thought they would. Little did you know that every time you had stolen from the Overlords, they had known you were there. Although they didn't exactly appreciate you stealing their belongings, they had taken a bit of a liking towards you. Even when being mischievous little shit, you still had a sort of charm. Like when you were stealing one of Vox's newest prototypes and spent 10 whole minutes trying to figure out what it did before giving up and furiously putting it in the bag. Or that time you stole one of Velvette's dresses and before putting it in the bag you put it on, just for funsies. She had to admit, you didn't look half bad in her designs, maybe when you finally date them, she can ask you to model for her. And the time you tried to steal one of the blankets from one of Val's studios, which surprisingly sell for a lot. You hurriedly put it in the bag, trying to touch it as little as possible, who knows what things people had done in those blankets. They slowly fell for you one by one, maybe next time, they can finally ask you out. Once they give you the world, you finally won't have to steal their things.

[beanzwrites]

୨⎯ "𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 & 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭" ⎯୧

✎ Made: March 17th, 2024

🎙️Hello, I'm Beanz! I'm a writer with a busy brain! I daydream a lot, and I'll most likely write those daydreams into stories! All my fanfictions on this page are gender-neutral unless stated otherwise!

If you also like fanfiction unrelated to x reader, please consider checking out my other works on here too! I also post about my ocs and projects I'm working on! I'm hoping to start being more consistent, so stay tuned! 📻

🎷Also, I have a community server, where anyone and everyone can show off their works! Whether you are a writer, artist, or have any other creative hobbies, we welcome you to join!

Join server: Here!

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〣Upcoming Pieces〣

The Stag and The Heron (Human! Alastor x Reader): Chapter Two

TeyU (A Genshin College Au)

〣Ongoing Pieces〣

The Stag and The Heron (Human! Alastor x Reader):

(Y/n), forced to be confined by societal standards, wishes for someone to understand them. Everywhere they look, it seems as though the people they once knew have abandoned them. It's not until they are introduced to a well-known radio host that they realize their true potential.

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What I like:

⤷Supernatural

⤷Genshin Impact

⤷Resident Evil

⤷Creepypasta

⤷Hazbin Hotel

⤷Baldur's Gate 3

Here's what I can do:

⤷Fluff & Angst

⤷Platonic & Romance

⤷Child Reader/Teen Reader

⤷Gender Neutral Reader/Female Reader

⤷Head cannons & Blurbs

Requests are open!(0/3)✅

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〣Genshin Masterlist〣

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〣Supernatural Masterlist〣

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❛Miscellaneous Oneshots❜

Chris McLean x Reader

“Get over yourself, McLean” - Chris McLean x reader: You and Chris used to be a thing, and despite the hurt he caused you; work is work. You aren't going to hide away just because of him.

Chris being a man baby head cannons

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“Nice to meet you, Thomas” - Leatherface x Female! Reader: An AU where the Hewitt's are a normal family working in their worn down-town for a living. The reader's family moves in next store, wanting a new life for themselves and be friendly with the neighbors.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

Present Silence - Clockwork x Reader: Clockwork visits an old friend and is reminded of her past.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

The Comfort of a Partner - Leon Kennedy (Infinite Darkness) x Reader: Leon's partner subtly comforts him in the only way they know how.

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Humble Til Death - Ascended Astarion x Vampire! Reader: The war between vampires and humans has begun, and every duke and spawn a like look to the Vampire Ascendant to help in battle. As they discuss what needs to be transpired, a stranger outcasted by both sides joins the discussion with a humble approach, which catches Lord Ancunin's attention.

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

Party For One - Vox x Idol! Reader: (Y/n) was once an overlord, dominating the music industry with their talent and the souls they captured along the way. Then Vox came into their life and stole their heart with his big dreams. Everything was great for the lovers at first, then Vox wanted to team up with other overlords for more power. Vox became obsessed over his work, and with also looking out for the other Vee's, (Y/n) begins to realize that maybe they were never part of Vox's plans. They decide that it is time to start again and leave Vox behind.

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❛Miscellaneous Series❜

The Stag & The Heron: Human! Alastor x Reader

Prologue - (Y/n), forced to be confined by societal standards, wishes for someone to understand them. Everywhere they look, it seems as though the people they once knew have abandoned them. It's not until they are introduced to a well-known radio host that they realize their true potential. Chapter One - Alastor offers (Y/n) a job, and though they are hesitant, they accept.

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❛Y/n Meets Resident Evil❜

Chris Redfield: Himbo Friend Edition Jill Valentine: Wife Edition Albert Wesker: Dad- OH

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〣 If you have any questions, don't hesitate to ask! My work is intended for entertainment purposes only. Please do not repost anything without my permission. Thank you! 〣

Last Updated: May 7th, 2024 ✎

[ninjacat1515]

Reformed Matias wears simple Villager attire and tends to a large garden at the edge of town, using his strength and endurance to keep the multiple acres thriving. His tracking and hunting skills are used for wild game to bring back and share, and also used to keep enemies in check. He gathers wood for the residents to.

He has helped fight off Raids and scared off young Pillagers on patrol. He is aided by two Wild Heroes- Wild Archie and Valkory @vee-vee-the-starchild

And also a sassy old Villager Healer named Arylo to help keep an ego in check- also @vee-vee-the-starchild

Working on this is exciting but I will ofcourse still write Matias as his old evil self from time to time, that won't change it will just be separate from his main story arc. And even with that he'll have his grandson to keep him out of too much trouble.

[bunnelbaby]

On top of the requests I have remaining in my inbox, here are a few self indulgent posts I wish to work on:

✨ BPD Caregiver Eda Clawthorne icons

✨ Trauma Age Dreamer Luz icons

✨ Age Regressor Vee icons

✨ Caregiver Darius icons

✨ Caregiver Alador icons

✨ Matching Age Regressor and Age Dreamer Lumity icons

✨ Sleepy Regressor Alador icons

✨ Age Regressor Clawdeen icons (G3)

✨ Age Regressor Lagoona icons (G3)

✨ Age Regressor Frankie Stein icons (G3)

✨ Puppy Regressor Clawd icons (G3)

✨ Miscellaneous Puppy Regressor Resident Evil icons

✨ Puppy Regressor Carlos and Caregiver Jill icons

✨ Age Regressor Luis icons (RE4R)

✨ Miscellaneous Resident Evil dni banners

✨ Caregiver Ada Wong icons

✨ Caregiver Jack Krauser icons

✨ Caregiver Merchant icons (RE4R)

✨ Age Regressor Ethan Winters icons

✨ Little Brother Regressor and Big Brother Regressor Karl Heisenberg icons

✨ Playmate Angie Beneviento icons

✨ Permaregressor Donna Beneviento icons

✨ Caregiver Duke icons (RE:Village)

✨ Sister Caregiver Bela, Cassandra and Daniela Dimitrescu icons

✨ Caregiver Yang Xiao Long icons

✨ Guardian Pyrrha Nikos icons

✨ Age Regressor Neo icons (RWBY)

✨ Age Dreamer Nora Valkyrie icons

✨ Age Dreamer Penny Polendina icons

✨ Caregiver Qrow Branwen icons

✨ Caregiver Roman Torchwick icons

[siamesephoenixrandomideatank]

[ToH AU Concept] Tales of Middle-Isles/Witch of the Glyphs

More refined and lore-expressing AU name is welcomed.

Instead of the world influenced of magical school-themed literature featuring you-know-who, it's the world of various races created by Valars and Illuvata. Luz Noceda was sent to the realm called Middle-Isles(placeholder name), home to different races; elves, hobbits, dwarves, orcs, goblins, and monsters of both good and evil(or neither, or both).

However, unlike Tolkien's work itself, most of Middle-Isles' residents are not homophobic/transphobic, nor being racists (in term of cultural codes, but between 'species', it still exists). Plus, Easterlings and Haradrims are like humans of 21th century Earth; there are both good and evil ones.

Luz Noceda was not the chosen one for being qualified, but was an exception to Belos/Sauron's immunity. Like, no elves, hobbits, dwarves, orcs, goblins, or any creatures of Middle-Isles shall harm him. However, she needs to learn more about Middle-Isles and expand her own Fellowships along the way to 'Mordor'.

Some Extra Concepts

Eda and Lilith influenced by stories of Gandalf and Saruman, but with twists

Luz as Earth Human, Amity as Elf, Gus as Dwarf, Willow as Hobbit, Vee as 'altered' lesser dragon, and Hunter as 'special type of' Uruk-Hai, or specific creature based on altered combination of humans and Uruk-Hai.

Titans as Valars, Archivist's leader is Morgoth, yet, Belos/Sauron maybe not really serve Archivist's leader.

9 Coven Heads related to concepts of 9 Ringwraiths/Nazgul.

IDK if we need Gollum.

Personal twists for subraces of elves, dwarves, hobbits, orcs, and goblins.

[decaf-mother]

[Pretty]

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Jill Valentine x F!Reader

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Warnings: MDNI, Smut, Praise, Fingering, Mirror, Dom!Jill Valentine

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Summary: You've been feeling self conscious so your girlfriend reminds you how pretty you are.

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Her fingers always curl in just the right spot to make your eyes roll back, lips brushing the shell of your ear as she plays with your pussy in front of the full length mirror, making you keep your legs spread as wide as possible.

“Look.”

It's a single command that makes your eyes focus back on the mirror, devilish smirk quirking at the corner of her lips, loving how good you listen - how well trained you are for her. Your cunt spread open by her fingers, admiring the mess she's made of you.

“Pretty, right?”

You give a dazed little nod, just wanting to cum so badly, she rolls your needy clit between her fingertips while planting kisses on the back of your shoulder.

“My pretty girl…”

She'll never have enough of your moans or how fucked out she can make you, she'll show you over and over again how beautiful she thinks you are if she has to, it's her favorite activity after all… Pumping her fingers into your drenched hole and hearing those obscene little noises, feeling you clench and shake as you come undone… She lifts her fingers to her lips, greedily licking them off to taste you on her tongue.

“I don't think I'm done yet.”

[aleonisse]

I. HIGH-END LUX.

Adessia Ivyeren ( 20 )

Inamorata ？ ‘ 🐚 ’ Mundane.

Disclaimer ！[ The account was purposely made for one’s own character blogs only. The mundane is accepting constructive criticisms. Harmful responses towards the mundane won’t be tolerated. The admin is open for a healthy conversation in case of personal issues. ] (1) This is Adessia Katzluiff. Preferably known as Hersanai, the eldest of Katzluiff. Human Felines whose fate is to destroy evil, and build a humane community to the land they were born. You are free to call her in any decent nicknames you have in mind. To her foreign mutuals, you may pronounce the name as ( Adessia ) ‘ah-de-zi-yuh’ & ( Ivyeren ) ‘eye-vee-ren”. It may also translate and be used for the next set of words: Goodness · Honour · Gift · Birth of Christ. (2) Sharing you a little personal information about the admin behind the account. Agatha, a Pansexual - Greyromantic, prefers to be called in both feminine and masculine terms, as the pronouns to be used are she/her. She was born as a sun virgoan, moon ariesian, and rising capricornian. An Of Age lady, who is currently in her twenties. In terms of dating status: no relationships, no strings attached, and non-dating. (3) She has a ‘safe for work’ space in this account, minors and legals are both welcome to read her future oc blogs. (4) I do not own the visual template and update style to be used, and will give acknowledgment to the rightful creators. Photo resources will also get acknowledgment on each update. Captions will be made by yours truly, Adessia Katzluiff. It will be written in either of the following languages: English and Filipino. Both of the said language and writing system were out of the handler’s mother tongue, so expect a lot of grammatical errors and vocabulary inconsistencies. Please do avoid the saving/copying or re-uploading of any provided images and texts.

The Character ( 别致与优雅。)

Adessia Ivyeren Ynchausti, 20.

A Filipino-Korean UpD student, taking BFA Painting and is now in her fourth year. Adessia- the youngest spawn of their family ( has a 2-year older brother ), is currently residing in Forbes Park, Makati ( Family Residence ), and also has a single condominium unit in Quezon City ( living on her own ).

She was born on September 5, 2003, that makes her 20 in the current timeline. Adessia was a gifted child in both artistic and intellectual manners. Which makes her accelerate twice her actual level during the primary years of schooling. Adessia was also known for the way she dresses, and for actively participating in different fashion magazines, fashion runways, and brand ambassadorship at a young age.

Adessia has left a quote saying: “To me- modeling is the biggest profession I ever had as a youth of this century, and to paint is my greatest ambition as the world revolves continuously. It wasn’t about the flawless face of a model that matters, but what matters the most- is how you see and how I imprint my individuality as a human in someone’s memory. As to how the world leaves different impressions in my own naked eyes.”

Adessia continues to grow as a Woman with timeless beauty, poise of confidence, huge intellectual capacity of an artsy mind, and will have the big warmest heart. Soon, she’ll be graduating and has plans on continuing her journey upon applying to the Fashion Institute of Technology, in New York to take Fashion Design.

[bitchfitch]

anyways bc I am going to forget what these are referencing here's the list

1. Resident Evil 7/8 fanfiction about Ethan Winters melding with the village's mold and having a lot of hate sex with my man Karl.

2. Cat boy who's doing sex work out of desperation becomes an extremely rich dog boy's sugar baby and has to kinda just. has to decide if its worth going against his every moral. Like sure he's wearing an outfit worth as much as a year of rent at his old apartment, but the money to buy it came from his former neighbors bc his daddy owns most of the buildings in this city.

3. failed Reincarnation of a love god is pissed and ready to make his existence everyone's problem because it's that or having to think about how hot his former self's dragon husband is.

4. Elden Ring highschool au fanfiction. Miquella is well aware hes too young for Mohg but he's a spoiled rich kid who wants to wreck the family reputation as much as he wants to piss off his dad via fucking his 30 yo halfbrother.

5. Modern au of the option directly below this one. Coffee shop barista x mob boss/sex shop owner situationship. aka Sad wet sock X just the worst guy ever.

6. Everything bad happens to Esti always but tbh being a prisoner of war isn't that bad. He gets to stay in his bedroom (he's not allowed to leave) and talk strategy (if he fucks up he will suffer for it.) with his mentor (the guy who is the source of 80% of his problems) between bouts of sex that border on physical abuse (Pavo refuses to stop being mad at him for something that wasn't Esti's fault and doesn't know how else to handle his own emotions vee sivi his feeling like the only person he's ever loved has betrayed him for the benefit of his enemies.)

7. tbh it's what it says on the tin. A princess and her coterie of witches go on a quest to eat god since their god is refusing to help in a looming war while still expecting the princess to sacrifice herself to it.

8. Man goes to a masquerade ball that's been thrown to find the lady of the night a suitable husband and succeeds at her test (finding her amongst the party goers despite her swapping outfits/masks with a friend). Only to realize his face blindness is so extreme he did not recognize the man he's been sleeping with and getting into fights on behalf of for several months until the man who is the lady of the night reintroduces himself. And then sets him on the suitor his parents want him to marry instead because fuck being some randos wife. If he has to get married he's choosing the hot guy who is down to full body tackle people when he tells him too.

9. Retired super soldier doesn't know how else to make his fake married husband want to spend time with him and is just making up excuses to always be within a few feet of him. bc while they are fake married, the retired super soldiers crush is extremely real.

10. Intern on a voyage to an alien ocean accidentally catches the fancy of one of the giant alien mermaids. The giant alien mermaid refuses to cooperate with being studied by anyone else and is also the only of his kind who is willing to get close enough to be poked at. He mostly shows displeasure via biting and sinking boats. The intern is really trying his best to keep everything under control without having to sign the 8 new liability wavers corporate left for him as a "just in case you're you know, willing to do, ahem, additional experiments the subject may not be... cooperative during should anyone else attempt it... We need samples, you see."

11. Dream monster made a guy hallucinate that he could fly. the monster literally said sorry so he doesn't know what the guys beef is. Just relax and come play pretend with him to get over it.

I've been bouncing around ideas and making no progress on anything 😭 I just need some direction to focus on

[benchtrioupdates]

Ranboo duetted himself on TikTok!

[e350tb]

The Owl House: A Blight on Gravesfield (Chapter Four)

Four

A trying day comes to an end.

So what happened to Philip Wittelsbane?

The Wittelsbanes have always maintained that Philip and John were set upon by a roving band of ‘Indian Braves’ - their words. That John fought bravely, but Philip’s head was ‘cleaved in twain’ by a tomahawk, and that he had no recourse but to abandon his brother. That was, until recently, the generally accepted story. Except in the 1970s, historians actually bothered to ask the Pequot people what their histories said, and they were adamant that Philip could not have been killed by them.

Assuming the oral history of the Pequot is correct, and given the near total lack of any settler-Pequot contact in Gravesfield at this time in written record, we can safely assume that, what actually happened?

Another theory is that John murdered Philip, or that they fought a duel and that John emerged the victor. That’s currently the most likely theory, although the Wittelsbanes fervently deny it, but it can’t be confirmed. Archeologists have never found any human remains that might have belonged to Philip, and there’s been a few digs over the years, mostly related to the Battle of Gravesfield. Of course, the body could have been moved or dumped in the river - we don’t know.

There’s a theory that Philip lived a little longer and died of disease; but if so, why does he disappear from the record? And why would Thomas Goodfaith Masterson write that John and Philip went into the woods, and only John came back?

Then there’s the fun theory, which I love, but which is almost certainly false; the theory that the Earth opened up and Beezlebub dragged Philip to hell for his congress with witches. That theory started being popular in the late 1760s, when John’s descendent, Matlock Wittlesbane, donated Philip’s writings to the public library, but it had been suspected by Gravesfield residents as early as the 1660s. Often this story includes a nice little fight between John and Philip, which gets framed as a great battle between good and evil, and ends with a blood-covered John arriving back home, falling into Thomas’ embrace, and proclaiming; “It is done! By the Lord, it is done!”

Demons, fights, blood, this story has everything! And it’s almost certainly false.

So what is the truth? The answer might be in the personal journal of John Wittlesbane, which we know exists, but is in the care of the Wittelsbane estate, and they’ve never let anybody look at it. They say it is a private, family document.

Which doesn’t help dissuade us from the whole ‘murder’ hypothesis.

Now I want to have some time for discussion, so we’ll close the lecture here. I want to raise a question for you; apart from what I’ve mentioned, what other possible explanations are there for Philip’s disappearance?

 ....

The living arrangements were tight, but not uncomfortable.

Certainly, the pair of air beds were close, but there was enough of a gap between them (and the couch) that there wasn’t a lack of personal space. A pair of pillows and a few old, warm blankets completed the ensemble; Camila had even fished out an old plush bunny from the bottom of the closet.

Camila, who had just finished pumping the pair of beds, sat on the couch, mopping her brow.

“It’s always harder than it looks,” she muttered.

Amity rubbed her arm, looking a little embarrassed.

“You didn’t have to do this, Ms. Noceda,” she muttered.

Camila smiled.

“You’re a guest,” she replied. “It’s the least I can do.”

“Yeah, Amity, this is the Castello Noceda we’re talking about!” exclaimed Luz. “We’ve gotta keep our AirBnB rating up!”

“...Air B and what?”

The door opened; Vee walked in, carrying a fluffy red blanket and an extra pillow under her arm.

“So, uh, since you’ll be wanting your room back and all…” she said.

“Vee, no!” exclaimed Luz. “It’s okay, you can stay up… wait, hold on, don’t I have a bunk bed?”

She glanced at the two air beds in confusion.

“I thought you’d want to keep your friend company,” Camila said, shrugging. “I mean, it is her first night in a strange place.”

Luz smiled.

“Thanks, mami,” she said, giving her mother a hug. “You always think of these things.”

Camila smiled, but then frowned.

“We still need to talk tomorrow,” she said.

Luz sighed and bowed her head.

“I know,” she replied.

“And not just about the Boiling Isles,” added Camila. “Vee’s been going to school in your place. We need to work out how she can keep going now that you’re back.”

Luz tilted her head.

“Does she… want to?”

“Of course!” replied Vee. “I wanna see my friends every day, you know?”

Luz looked at her like she’d grown an extra head.

“...friends?”

She swallowed.

“Yeah, we’ll talk about that tomorrow,” she said. “I just…”

She yawned loudly.

“...today took a lot outta me,” she muttered.

“Cariño, I feel like I’ve aged twenty years in the last few hours,” sighed Camila. “I think we all need to get some sleep.”

She smiled.

“Goodnight Vee, goodnight Amity.” She turned to her daughter. “Goodnight, Luz. I am so glad you’re back.”

“I…”

Luz’ eyes shot down to the floor.

“Me too, mami.”

Camila flicked off the light, and she and Vee departed. Luz sighed, collapsing onto the air bed - then she squealed a little as she bounced.

“Forgot how bouncy these things are,” she muttered.

She turned on her side. Amity lay on her back, staring up at the ceiling. Her expression was hard to read.

“Amity?”

“I miss Ghost,” sighed Amity.

“Yeah?”

“I don’t know where she went,” she added. “I guess I was just so focused on helping you that I forgot to look out for her. Look at me; top student and I can’t even look after my Palisman.”

“Hey, I’m sure she’s okay,” Luz replied. “She’s probably just waiting for you in your room. Or maybe using Edric as a scratching post again.”

Amity snorted.

“Honestly, I kind of hope she stays away from there,” she admitted. “I don’t think my parents are going to be in a particularly good mood at the moment.”

Luz frowned. “They wouldn’t hurt Ghost, would they? I mean, they’re strict but they’re not-”

Amity turned, looking her in the eyes, and Luz trailed off.

“I feel like I’m missing something here,” she said.

“I… honestly I’d rather not talk about it,” sighed Amity.

Luz nodded.

They lay in silence for a few minutes. The rain still pattered on the window - it was starting to die down now, and the wind had almost stopped completely.

“Belos has Eda, doesn’t he?” asked Luz. “And King?”

Amity nodded.

“I’m sorry, I couldn’t do anything…”

“Amity, I’m not gonna be mad because you couldn’t stop Emperor Belos,” said Luz. “He’s Emperor Belos. You don’t get to be an evil emperor without getting really good at magic and junk.”

She lay on her back, scratching her chin.

“Or maybe you do? I dunno, I didn’t really listen to that history class on Napoleon.”

“Napole-who?”

“Human thing.”

She sighed.

“We’re gonna get through this,” she said. “For Eda, and for King, and for Lilith and Raine and… I dunno, whoever Belos has messed with. And then…”

She ran a hand through her hair.

“...then maybe I can get mom to understand… everything,” she said.

“Well, you’ve got a better chance than with my parents,” said Amity.

“I dunno, it’s still… I shouldn’t be this scared, you know?” Luz shrugged. “She’s my mom. I love her. So why does the thought of actually talking to her make me so anxious?”

Amity shrugged.

“Families are hard.”

Luz snorted, turning back onto her side.

“At least I’ve still got you,” she said.

Amity’s face turned red, and she rubbed the back of her hair.

“I’m not that great,” she replied. “Eda or King would’ve been better.”

“Hey, don’t sell yourself short!” said Luz. “And besides…”

She blushed, smiling.

“...King doesn’t have pretty eyes like yours.”

Amity laughed, her face becoming redder still.

“Hey, uh, they’re, uh, they’re not as pretty as yours…”

The two snorted and broke into giggles.

Outside, the rain stopped completely, and the world was still. Tomorrow awaited, with all it’s myriad uncertainties, but for now, they had each other.

That was enough.

[diazpoems]

Me watching Riverdale S2:

THE WAY KEVIN IS RAISING HIS HAND TO THE MOTHERFUCKING SKY WHEN HIRAM ASKS FOR A VOLUNTEER FOR A WRESTLING DEMONSTRATION. THIS THIRSTY MOTHERFUCKER. HIS FACE IS PRICELESS.

I wish I could just jump into Riverdale and shake the characters and be like

Cheryl: Your parents fucking suck

Josie: Your parents fucking suck

Veronica: Your parents fucking suck

Betty: Your parents fucking suck

Archie: Your dads okay so far, I don’t know about your mom

Jughead: Your dad used to fucking suck but as a person, at his core, I don’t think he’s evil, and he’s getting better, but he’s got a ways to learn. I don’t know about your mom

Kevin: Your dad’s decent so far? Don’t know about your mom

Like especially Josie because I know it’s hard and that a lot of the trauma her mom felt probably manifested itself badly and Josie probably feels attached to her mom and like she owes her being a good daughter because her mom’s had it bad but like I also DON’T CARE. FUCKING TREAT YOUR CHILD RIGHT. I DON’T GIVE A SHIT WHAT HAPPENED. THATS YOUR CHILD. WOMAN UP AND BE A FUCKING DECENT PERSON. I DON’T CARE THAT YOU PUT A ROOF OVER HER HEAD, FOOD IN HER MOUTH, GAVE HER A SINGING CAREER (But continue to control it and not give her leeway to think and act on her own). SHE DON’T OWE YOU SHIT. FUCK OFF WITH YOUR WEIRD LIFE-FUCKING-SUCKED-FOR-ME-BUT-IM-ALSO-A-CLASSIST-BITCH PARADOX. MY DAD’S GOT IT MADE RIGHT NOW BUT HE HASN’T FORGOTTEN HIS ROOTS, HASN’T FORGOTTEN THE DISCRIMINATION HE FACED AND THE FACT THAT HE GREW UP SHIT POOR EARLY ON AND HE HASN’T DECIDED “Hey, let’s ridicule people for being in a similar position that I was in!”

Basically, this is me begging for for Josie’s mom to ✨fucking do better✨

Anyways yeah normalize Riverdale characters disowning their own parents ✌🏽🥰

Hmmm. If I wasn’t completely and utterly for the Serpents before, the white serpents learning to shut the fuck up and stand with Toni and her grandfather in opposition of the genocide and colonialism that was perpetrated by Cheryl’s great great grandfather? Hell fucking yeah

Dude I’m sorta crying at the scene with Hiram seeing Veronica in her confirmation dress because he’s a piece of shit but this is how it goes down, like it’s a whole thing

I love that I immediately knew the meaning of “Catholic chic”. Apparently that’s all going to church every Sunday for the formative years of my life accomplished

I hope Penelope Blossom dies in a fire :)

OH MY GOD, LOVE SIMON CAME OUT RIGHT AROUND HERE, KEVIN IS ASKING MOOSE TO IT, MY COMFORT MOVIE OH MY GOD-

Ugh, I don’t trust Midge. Something about the tropey-ness of her being The Girlfriend™️ and her face, as well as the fact that she played Gen in tatbilb, something doesn’t sit right. The haircut feels too manic pixie, like she’s hiding something. Bad vibes

NOOO CHERYL ILL GO ON A VACATION WITH YOU 😭 GOD IM SO GONE FOR HER

Aaaaand she did some fuck shit. Aaaand Toni is pretty. Aaaand there’s the internalized homophobia.

Jughead saying that growing up Betty’s and Archie’s windows being parallel always bothered him sounds more like a jarchie admission than a bughead one, I’m just sayin’

BETTY AND JUGHEAD’S REACTIONS WHEN THEY HEAR THE BED SQUEAKING IS ME. Like the little amused but lowkey confused and baffled expression on his face as he’s like “is that their solution to everything? Can’t they ever just talk?” Like no apparently not. Me too Jug, me too-

Idk Vee, maybe he’s asking questions about your father’s line of work and the business of his associates because your dad and mom are fucking evil

What the fuck Veronica. I mean yay because that just gets us closer to Jarchie kiss but like what the fuck Vee. Also Jughead is super cute, like why does the blue eyes black hair thing absolutely melt my weak heart, like I didn’t choose to fall for this pasty ass white boy but here we are. Also Veronica’s eyes are really big and dark and pretty like girl help im falling for these two-

BETTY LITERALLY POINTED IT OUT, C’MON NOW CW, I KNOW WE’VE MADE THE MISTAKE OF GROVELING WITH SPN BUT PLEASE IM BEGGING YOU WE NEED A JARCHIE KISS-

CAN HETEROSEXUALS PLEASE STOP FUCKING ALL THE TIME ON TV. WHY DO YOU HAVE TO SHOVE YOUR STRAIGHTNESS IN MY FACE. NOT EVERYONE IS STRAIGHT YOU KNOW.

“Entertain Jughead” 😏

DUDE. They were sitting ALONE. TOGETHER. In the WOODS. With them being the ONLY ones who haven’t kissed. DUDE.

C’MON MAN, THEY’RE STARING FUCKING LONGINGLY AT EACH OTHER

If there are weird gay ships for straights then Jeronica is the weird straight ship for gays

Ok so is there a legitimate reason why Veronica is faithful to her parents and defends them to a tee and partakes in their mob shit or is she just daddy’s little fucking girl. Like it isn’t her fault that she’s been manipulated but it pisses me the fuck off. And people who want her to stay with her parents because supposedly they’re the only ones who love her even though it’s toxic and warped? Like do you have a brain?

Archie and Veronica really love supporting gentrification, classism, and Vee’s rich daddy and mommy’s innocence huh

Look i actually agree with Reggie for once, get Hiram’s ass, deal with it Veronica

Wow, nice, shaming Jug for eating. That’s cool, Arch. That’s awesome. And no Betty, she doesn’t have everybody’s vote. Because Veronica’s parents are motherfuckers and when it comes to choosing between a murderer/abuser/rich/classist/gentrifying fuck and supporting your bestie uwu guess which one im fucking picking. Also, THANK YOU JUG for explaining to your friend that even though he lives in a fantasy land where northside Riverdale is the only one worth referring to when talking about Riverdale at all and thus the only one that matters and is worth protecting, the southside exists and people live and have grown up in the southside and building a prison there where it will be even more easy to profile and incarcerate southside residents under false or exaggerated pretenses ISN’T A GOOD THING. That his own friend isn’t quite apart of his and Veronica’s and Betty’s socioeconomic caste and that he’s not going to pretend like he is, he isn’t going to be quiet about it just because you’re friends again. That he’s not going to lay down and let Archie explain what a good move for Riverdale is when he clearly means northside riverdale, let him explain how the southside needs to be dealt with to someone who grew up on the southside and knows it more (not the most, I’m not saying Jug isn’t out of his depth with certain aspects of being a full southsider) intricately than him. LIKE FUCK. ARCHIE. WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU’RE TALKING TO. Like he just doesn’t get why building prisons and stereotyping and condemning all southsiders and gentrifying entire neighborhoods is really fucking bad and a big deal and it annoys me so much. Like yeah Arch, obviously you don’t see the big deal because it doesn’t affect you and you delude yourself that it doesn’t affect your friend either, but it actually is that bad.

In conclusion, Archie and Veronica and sometimes Betty are giving me headaches rn. Like I’m not saying Jughead is perfect at all but in this particular instance he’s the only one I agree with for the most part right now.

Yeah Arch, you see things differently because you’re not the one who’s on the receiving end of the problem

YES MOMMA ANDREWS. SNAP! GO FERAL! SHOW THAT SOB SOME CONSEQUENCES!

Ah, so this is the jarchie “break-up” scene. You know what. I feel no heartbreak. Get his ass Jug.

Get. His. Ass.

They sent Cheryl to a conversion institution. I’m literally crying. This isn’t an exaggeration. I feel like I want to cry. Just. God fucking damn it.

SHE DOESN’T WANT TO GET BETTER. SHE’S NOT SICK. YOU ARE. DIE. FUCKING DIE. BURN IN HELL. AND PENELOPE BLOSSOM TOO.

“That’s not how things go in Riverdale” is a veiled way of saying “don’t challenge the upper class and don’t try to stifle gentrification,” I hope you all know

[wistfulcynic]

Their Way By Moonlight: Emma (Chapter 4)

Notes: Thank you as always for your comments and feedback, though I confess I've been a bit taken aback by the vehement reaction to Emma and Walsh's cursed marriage. It seems that people hate Walsh in a much more visceral way than I anticipated.  

I do truly appreciate all of you who are reading this, and especially those who have made supportive and encouraging comments. I’m really putting a lot into this one in terms of style, plot, and detail, and it’s hard not to get discouraged when I pour blood and sweat into something only to have everyone focus on one tiny thing. So to ease your minds, here is our first chapter from Emma’s POV. I think it will go a long way towards assuaging your fears about her circumstances under the curse. If you are considering bailing on this fic because of the Emma/Walsh situation, I would ask you please to read this chapter before you make a final decision.  

As before, there are allusions to cursed relationships, and a potentially distressing scene of aggression within a cursed marriage. 

Summary: A new curse has fallen on Storybrooke and this time the Saviour is trapped inside it, deliberately separated from her son and anyone else who might help her break it. But what no one knows –including her own cursed self– is that she and Hook are soulmates, working together within their shared dreams to find a way to break the curse and free everyone from the clutches of evil yet again. (Alternate 3B, set in the What Dreams May Come universe)

Rating: A hard M

Tagging: @teamhook @wellhellotragic @rouhn @kmomof4 @resident-of-storybrooke @darkcolinodonorgasm @jennjenn615@tiganasummertree @let-it-raines @bonbonpirate @thejollyroger-writer @lfh1962

Anyone wishing to be added to or dropped from this tag list, please let me know!

Read it on AO3

Emma: 

Emma hesitated outside the door of the old cannery. She wasn’t quite certain of why she was there, or the reason behind the irresistible compulsion she felt to see its disconcertingly attractive new owner again. He had invited her to come by, though of course he’d meant later— the bookstore wasn’t even open yet. But Emma hadn’t been able to wait. Two days had passed since they’d met, since that brief but oddly intense conversation in Granny’s, and she had been unable to get Killian Jones and his son out of her head. Something about them, about him, pulled at her, and it wasn’t just his striking looks, not even the beautiful blue eyes with their expression of profound, compelling sadness. It was something deeper. She felt somehow as though she knew him, and more astoundingly that he knew her, better than anyone, better even than her own husband. Although, she thought with a small start, as though the idea had only just occurred to her, Walsh barely even took the trouble to speak to her these days, much less keep up with what was going on in her life. She’d been meaning to talk to him about that, she remembered suddenly. Yes. She’d been meaning to talk to him about a lot of things, but when the time came to do so she always seemed to forget. Tonight, she promised herself, making a mental note. Tonight they would finally talk. She wouldn’t forget this time.

Gathering her courage, Emma reached for the doorknob with her right hand, the palm of which still tingled from her brief handshake with Killian two days ago, and as she opened the door she remembered how the night before last her sleep had been troubled by disturbing dreams. She could recall only wisps of them, but she was certain he had been in them, he and his eyes, doing things to her that she couldn’t bear to think about in the light of day. Things she couldn’t bear to admit she had loved. 

She really should stay far away from him. And yet here she was, in his shop. 

She pushed the door open and stepped inside, gasping at the sight before her. The room was simply lovely, bright and airy, with sunlight pouring in through the wide windows, dancing across the exposed brick walls and the antique looking dark-wood shelves that stood tall in four distinct sections around the room.  A heavy mahogany desk sat opposite the door, elegantly carved with nautical designs: ships and storms, mermaids and other sea creatures she couldn’t put a name to, all rendered in exquisite detail. Atop it was an antique metal cash register, as elegantly decorated as the desk, sitting alongside, Emma was amused to note, a decidedly modern portable card reader attached to an iPad. Someone had a taste for the ancient but enough sense to appreciate the modern, she thought.

She was so caught up in admiration of her surroundings that she didn’t notice Killian’s arrival until he spoke. 

“Swan?” The sound of his voice seemed to wrap around her, as deep and sonorous as she remembered, almost caressing her name. She turned to see him standing at the foot of the stairs. “What are you doing here?”

“Um,” she said, feeling abruptly hot and itchy. How was it possible that he could be even better looking than she remembered? Admittedly she hadn’t really had a good look at Granny’s, though she had definitely noticed his face, but now as he stood by the black wrought-iron staircase that wound in a perfect helix up to a hole in the ceiling, his expression briefly unguarded and searingly intense, she had an opportunity to ogle. 

He wore dark grey trousers in a soft woolen twill and an equally soft looking v-neck sweater in a shade of blue that made his eyes stand out even more. A tuft of dark hair peeked out just above the vee, and the itch in Emma’s palm flared to life again with the desire to touch it, to touch him. Everything about him seemed so eminently touchable. The sweater clung to his lean frame just tightly enough to show how fit he was, and his hair was tousled in a way that looked both deliberate and as though it could have been caused by fingers being run through it in the heat of passion. 

What? Emma shook herself. Where the hell did that come from? Remember you’re married. And it’s not like you know anything about the heat of passion, anyway. At least, that’s what Walsh always told her, what he always gave as an excuse for why he didn’t want to touch her. She was cold, he said. Too hard. Not enough. She forced back those thoughts, promising herself once again that she would sit down with Walsh that evening and discuss the problems in their marriage. She dreaded it, but she had to try. They couldn’t go on much longer like this. 

“Uh,” she tried again to respond to Killian’s question. “You said I should come by.” 

“So I did, though I didn’t expect you quite so soon. I’m afraid we’re not open yet.” 

“Yeah, sorry, it was stupid,” she said, turning away. “I was just passing and I thought— never mind, I’ll go—”

“No!” She looked back at him, startled at the vehemence in his voice. He flushed faintly pink and reached up to rub at a spot behind his right ear. “No, you don’t have to go. Please don’t, in fact. I’d be happy to, um, give you a tour? If you’d like.” 

He looked hesitant but also eager, like he really, really wanted her to stay. She smiled. It felt like a long time since anyone had actually desired her company. 

“Okay,” she said, a bit shyly. “I’d like that.” 

A bright smile broke across his face, warm and soft and with just a hint of something wicked beneath it. For a moment Emma forgot to breathe. God, he’s gorgeous.

“Well, why don’t we start here?” he said, coming to stand beside her and indicating the near corner of the room with his left arm. His sleeve was pushed up slightly and she could see the seam where his prosthetic hand joined his arm. She realised with surprise that she hadn’t noticed the other day that he was missing his left hand. He’s missing his left hand. Why did that fact seem so significant to her? It tickled at the back of her mind, like something she needed to remember but couldn’t quite pull from her subconscious. 

“So we’re still waiting on some inventory, but you can see the general layout of the shop,” he was saying. “Reference material is here at the front, with theory guides just here behind it. The practical manuals we have to be a bit more careful with, so they’re back in this corner, some of them will be locked in a special glass cupboard, available on request only. Then here in this corner we have the historical context.” 

Emma frowned, looking more closely at the titles of the books that already graced the shelves. Rare volumes, he’d said the other day, but these were all—

“These are books of magic!” she cried. 

“Oh, aye, did I not mention? That’s our specialty. Books of and about magic.”

She started to laugh, then trailed off when she noticed he didn’t join her. “But you’re not serious?”

“Very serious.”

“Books of magic.” 

“And about magic, aye.” 

“But— magic isn’t real.” 

“There are quite a number of people who would disagree with that assessment, Sheriff.”

“And you’re one of them?” Her voice was rife with disbelief.

“Aye,” he replied, and the sincerity in his face and tone were unmistakable. “I am.” 

She shook her head. “I would never have pegged you as someone with an interest in the occult. You seem so, I dont know, practical.” 

“Oh, I’m very practical, love, but that doesn’t mean I can’t believe in magic.” 

She wanted to deny his words, really it was so absurd, but she realised with another start of surprise that she was genuinely interested, almost despite herself, curious to the point of fascination. “Will you tell me about them?”

He exhaled deeply, almost as if he had been holding his breath waiting for her reaction, and gave her another dazzling smile. “It would be my pleasure.” 

Nearly two hours later they were sitting on the floor surrounded by books, and Emma’s head was buzzing with stories of witches and wizards, covens and cults, fascinating details concerning the history and practice of magical arts.  She felt like she had learned more in that short time than she had before in the whole of her life. Of course, her earlier education had been… it had been… what? She couldn’t recall. Frowning, she tried to remember where she had gone to school, the names of her teachers, fellow classmates, anything, but it was all a blank. 

“Emma?” She turned to see Killian looking at her inquiringly. “Are you all right, love?”

She should really object to that ‘love’, she knew, but couldn’t bring herself to. She liked it. It made her feel warm inside. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just a bit distracted.” 

He nodded, and reached out to close one of the books. “We’ve been talking for a long time,” he said. “Perhaps we could take a break?”

She watched carefully as he used the prosthetic hand to close the book. The hand moved, she noticed, clearly it had some sort of mechanism operating it, but he seemed to mange it awkwardly, as though not quite used to it. She wondered how long he’d had— “When did you lose your hand?” she blurted, then flushed. “Sorry, it’s none of my business.” 

He looked startled, then smiled. “No, it’s fine. It’s been so long, I don’t mind speaking of it anymore.”

“How long?”

“Oh, years and years.” 

“What happened? Er, if you don’t mind me asking.” 

“Not at all. It was stupid, really. I was young, I got in a fight. Over a woman. Woke up the next day with no hand.”

“I’m so sorry.” 

He shrugged. “Like I said it was years ago.” 

“Mmmmm.” 

“What is it, Swan?” He looked almost expectant, like he knew the gears were turning in her head and was excited to see what they would spit out. She felt again the odd, unfamiliar sensation of being the focus of genuine interest. He truly seemed to care about what she had to say, for no reason other than that she was saying it. 

“It’s just— well, you don’t seem very comfortable with the artificial one. If it’s been so long, I guess I would have thought you’d be more used to it by now.” 

“Ah, well that’s explained easily enough. I lost my hand so long ago that the prosthetics that were available to me at the time were, um, let’s say primitive. This one however is quite new. State of the art, they tell me. It works by interacting with the electrical impulses in my muscle fibres, apparently. So you see, until quite recently I had a much simpler one, and this one, while far better in many ways, is taking a bit of time to adjust to.”

Every word he spoke was the truth, she could detect no dishonesty in his face or manner, yet she sensed it wasn’t the whole story either. He was leaving out important details. And she wondered why. 

As he spoke he adjusted the prosthetic with his right hand, drawing her attention to the thick, engraved silver band he wore on its ring finger. A wedding ring? she wondered. It must be. A man with no left hand would naturally wear his wedding band on his right, wouldn’t he? Especially if until recently he’d worn a simpler prosthesis, one with no fingers. 

She wondered, and not for the first time, about Henry’s mother. Killian’s face when he’d spoken of her in Granny’s had worn for a brief moment such a devastated expression, her loss must still be fresh and painful for him. In a weird way that made her feel better about having sought him out and spent so long talking with him. She was married, he a grieving widower, what harm could there be in a friendship between them? She certainly wouldn’t have to worry about anything coming of the fierce attraction she felt for him. Even if he felt it too, he would never act on it. He was very obviously still in love with his wife, and Emma somehow knew beyond any doubt that he was not a man to betray those he loved. 

“So, um, it’s ah, lunchtime,” he said, scratching behind his ear again. “And it seems we both could use a break. Would you care to join me? For some lunch?”

“Sure, I guess. Where were you going to go?”

“I—, uh, we live upstairs,” he gestured towards the staircase. “The third floor is a loft apartment, I was just going to go up and make a sandwich.” 

Alone with him in his apartment. Emma’s heart thundered. “A sandwich sounds great,” she managed to say. “Can you do grilled cheese?”

His face twisted for a moment into the strangest expression, half blissful happiness, half like he wanted to cry. “I can,” he said, his voice hoarse. “It’s my son’s favourite.” 

“In that case, I’d love to join you.” 

The grilled cheese was perfect, exactly the way she liked it. She told him as much, and was rewarded with another half-delighted, half-sad expression. “I’m glad I haven’t lost my touch,” he said, almost to himself. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Grilled cheese is— Henry’s mother’s favourite as well,” he said quietly. “Since we lost her we don’t make it as often as we used to.”

Emma didn’t quite know how to respond to that, so she crunched her sandwich in slightly awkward silence as he busied himself at the stove, avoiding looking at him until he slid a cup in front of her. “What’s this?” she asked in surprise. 

“Traditional Jones family accompaniment to grilled cheese,” he replied. 

She picked up the mug and inhaled over it. “Hot chocolate with— is that cinnamon?”

“Aye. It’s a bit odd I’ll grant you, and if I’m honest I prefer it plain, but that’s how Henry likes it.”

“Seriously? You’re telling me your son likes cinnamon on his hot chocolate.” 

“Aye.” He seemed to be watching her carefully. 

“Grilled cheese and hot chocolate with cinnamon is my favourite lunch,” she said. “You’re basically telling me that I have the same tastes as your thirteen year old kid.” 

“Would it help if I confessed to an affinity for it as well?” he asked, his face deadpan but with amusement twinkling in his eyes. 

“It might.” 

“Very well, I confess it, but you mustn’t ever tell Henry. I’d never get him to eat a vegetable again if he thought he could wheedle grilled cheese out of me every night.” 

“It’s a deal.” 

The earlier awkwardness was dispelled, and as Killian sat down to eat his sandwich Emma sipped her chocolate —it too was perfect— making it last as long as possible. There was no way she could justify staying any longer once lunch was over, and she didn’t want to go. She felt comfortable with Killian, and happy, things she couldn’t remember feeling in a long, long time. Later she knew she would need to analyse these feelings, but for now she simply wished to feel them. 

When the last drop was finally drained she set the cup down on the counter, then realised it might be nice if she took it to the sink instead and went to pick it up again, at the same time as Killian reached for it himself. Her hand closed around it first followed a second later by his, his fingers linking with hers in a way that felt so natural that it didn’t even occur to her to question it, simply laughing lightly as they released the cup but not each other’s hands. His thumb caressed her bare ring finger. “You don’t wear a wedding ring,” he said softly. 

She could barely breathe her heart was pounding so hard, the gentle movements of his thumb sending sparks coursing up her arm, reverberating through her whole body. “Um,” she said, trying to think. “No, I — I have one of course, but I don’t wear it.” 

“Why not?” 

“Er.” She tried to remember. There was a reason, surely? “I can’t with— with my job. It gets in the way.” Yes, that must be it. 

“Ah.” Something in his tone suggested he didn’t quite believe her, but before she could reply he had released her hand and turned away, picking up the mug and putting it in the sink. 

“I like yours though,” she said abruptly. Where did that come from? 

“What?” He turned, giving her an odd look. 

“Your wedding ring.” She reached out and took his hand again, this time caressing the silver band upon the third finger with her own thumb. “It is a wedding ring, isn’t it?”

He cleared his throat. “Aye.” 

“Henry’s mother.” It wasn’t a question and so required no answer, but he gave one anyway. “Aye.” The sadness was back in his voice, this time untempered by any joy.

Emma smiled, feeling suddenly swamped by sadness herself. She felt such a connection to this man, unlike anything she’d ever felt before, and she hated to think of him hurting. 

Briefly she allowed herself a rare, uncharacteristic moment of self-indulgence to wonder what it would be like to be loved as devotedly as Killian loved his wife. To be loved even after she was gone. To have such an emotion, from such a man. Swallowing back tears, she looked up at him. “She had good taste. This is exactly the sort of ring I would have chosen.” 

“She’s an extraordinary woman,” he replied, his voice rough with emotion, his eyes blazing with it. 

Emma nodded, wishing she knew why that remark left such a clutching, squeezing sensation around her heart. 

“Well I should go,” she said, releasing his hand.

He swallowed hard then gave her a small smile, a tight, guarded thing that squeezed her heart again. He looked so sad. She wanted to see the bright, wicked grin from earlier. 

“May I see you out?” he asked politely, his emotions under control again. 

She shook her head, already moving towards the door. “No, it’s fine. But thanks.”

“Any time, love.”

Her hand was on the doorknob when he spoke again. “Emma.” 

She looked back at him, gripped by the wild, irrational hope that he might ask her to stay. “What about your husband?” he asked. 

“Who?” She frowned in confusion, then remembered. “Oh, Walsh.” Why had she forgotten him? “What about him?” 

“Does he not wear a ring?”

“Of course he does.” Didn’t he? “Why do you ask?”

“It’s just that you said ‘would have chosen.’” Killian’s face was calm, but that intensity was back in his eyes. 

“What?”

“Just now, when you looked at my ring you said it’s exactly what you would have chosen. Not what you did choose.” 

There was that confusion again, swirling through her brain and blocking her thoughts. Why couldn’t she think? “I— I must have misspoken.” She rubbed her forehead, which had started to ache. 

He was silent for a long moment before replying. “Of course, I’m sure that’s it. Goodbye, Sheriff.” 

Emma smiled tightly and left. 

When she arrived home that evening, Emma sought out Walsh in his study. He didn’t like her bothering him there but she was confused, her head spinning with questions that needed answers. She’d spent the afternoon in her office with the lights dimmed, nursing her headache and making a list of all the questions she needed to ask him, everything that was odd in their relationship and in her life. It was a long list. Why hadn’t she ever talked to him before? She’d been unhappy for so long…

“What is it, Emma?” Walsh’s voice was cold.

“I just— wanted to talk to you. About some things.” 

He turned and fixed her with the icy, probing stare that never failed to make her tongue-tied and anxious. She wanted to flee, back to the relative safety of the living room, where Walsh rarely went. No! You need answers! Stay strong! 

“Some things,” Walsh repeated. 

“Y-yes.” 

“Well go on,” he waved his hand at her and adopted an expression of exaggerated patience. “We haven’t got all night. What are these ‘things’ that are suddenly so important?”

Emma had spent an hour memorising her list of questions, but now she could only remember one. 

“Why don’t you wear a wedding ring?” she burst out. “Why don’t I?”

“Of— of course I wear one!” Walsh looked genuinely surprised, his composure slipping enough to rejuvenate her resolve. 

“Walsh I am looking at your hand right now and it is bare,” she said. “Neither of us wear rings. I’m certain I have one, I remember it, but where is it? Why did I stop wearing it?” He gaped at her and she seized her opportunity, letting months worth of questions flood out. “And why don’t we do anything together any more? What happened to our friends? I remember— I think I remember that we used to go out, do things as a couple, with other couples. But we have no friends now, and I stay in alone every night. I feel like I never see you these days, you’re hardly ever home, you never want to have sex—” she broke off as a look of revulsion crossed Walsh’s face, crushing her, stopping the words in her throat. Your own husband finds you repulsive, she thought bitterly, and a small voice at the very back of her consciousness piped up with a single word. “Why?” 

What? thought Emma, and the voice elaborated. “Dont you want to know why?”

A memory flashed through her mind, although no, not a memory, it couldn’t be, but it felt like a memory. The blue, blue eyes of Killian Jones, warm with adoration, his deep voice, his hand in her hair. “You’re so beautiful, Emma,” he whispered. “So utterly, heartbreakingly beautiful.” 

“Walsh, what’s going on?” she asked, suddenly angry, furious, incandescent with rage. “There’s something very wrong here, and I think you’re behind it. Tell me what it is. Tell me what you’ve done to me!”

Walsh’s face twisted into a terrifying snarl and he grabbed her arm, pulling her towards him until they were nose-to-nose, drowning her anger in fear. “Why are you asking these questions all of a sudden?” he hissed, “Does it by any chance have something to do with our new neighbourhood bookseller?” 

“Wh— what?” Emma scrambled to lie, to protect Killian. “No! Of course not.” 

“You’re a terrible liar, Emma.” Walsh sighed, his face falling back into its usual supercilious, condescending expression. Still holding her arm he turned and picked something up from his desk, a small box in silver filigree, beautiful in a cold and terrible way. “Fortunately it won’t matter. Come morning you’ll be yourself again. Or one of your selves, anyway.” He opened the box with a flick of his thumb and blew a harsh puff of air into it, sending a shower of glittering grey particles flying into Emma’s eyes. She gasped, then collapsed. Walsh held her up with his grip on her arm, then gave her a shove back into the sofa behind her. “That should take care of you for now,” he muttered, looking down at her unconscious form. “It appears that the pirate works faster than I had anticipated. Of course very little that we anticipated about him has turned out to be true. How he even managed to get here in the first place is something I would very much like to know. He is supposed to be stuck in Neverland.” He paused, smirking. “The power of true love, I suppose,” he said, sneering the words. “But he’ll soon be dealt with, him and your son. And now, ‘wife’, off to bed with you.” He waved his hand and Emma disappeared in a puff of green smoke. 

When she awoke the next morning, alone in her bed as always, all her doubts and worries about her marriage along with all recollection of her confrontation with Walsh were gone. 

Her memories of the time she’d spent with Killian Jones, however, were not. 

Notes: I hope this makes you feel a bit better (but still interested enough to want more!). 

[mearcatsreturns]

can’t help it (falling in love) ch. 2

Look. I didn't mean to write a second chapter. It just happened. It’s vaguely for @somekindofflowergirl, vaguely for me, because I needed it from Luka’s POV too. The softer, gentler courtship Abby and Luka could have had in season 12, even if I love canon. 

Chapter 2: Fools Rush In

Luka drums his fingers against the table, staring over at the little metal rectangle. He’s forty years old, it shouldn’t be this difficult to pick up his phone and call the woman he likes. (More than likes, he can’t even lie to himself.)

He and Abby spend plenty of time together now. It’s not like she won’t say yes if she’s free. In fact, she’d taken him out to dinner for his birthday just the previous month. Originally, a few of the others were going to meet them at the restaurant, but everyone had ended up cancelling for various reasons. It had just been him and Abby, so they’d just ended up staying for appetizers at the nice restaurant before heading to the Polish restaurant he’d loved when they were dating. It had been perfect, and Luka had known then that there was still something between them...at least on his end.

He hadn’t acted immediately. He didn’t want to rush it this time, didn’t want to scare her off or dive into something before they were ready. He’d needed time, and it had been nice, growing back into each other’s lives again.

Lately, he’s noticed a...change. He catches Abby watching him often enough, and if he sees a fraction of the hope he feels...well.

He’s tired of inaction, of sitting and pining. Even her friendship is enough, and if that’s all she wants, he’ll be fine with it. It’s just...if they have a chance to make something more, this time with a solid foundation of friendship and history, he wants that more than anything.

Finally, he musters the courage and dials the number he knows by heart. It rings twice before Abby picks up, and he can’t help but smile at her greeting.

“Hey, stranger.”

“Long time no talk, eh?”

“Yeah, the last 13 hours have been brutal,” she says in that wry way he adores.

“Well, to celebrate saving the girl yesterday and having the day off, I was thinking of making something nice for lunch, if you wanted to come join me.”

“Sure, as long as you promise it’s not that lamb gruel.”

“Heathen,” he says fondly, “but no, I’ll make something you will eat.”

“See you at noon?”

“It’s a date,” Luka agrees, then panics at his word choice. Not that he doesn’t want it to be a date, but if he scares her off, that would be the worst thing. He hangs up before she can react.

&&&

Abby shows up exactly at noon, and Luka tries not to stare or salivate too much at the low vee of her tee shirt’s neckline under her jacket. He’s honestly not very successful, but he really can’t help it. She’s so gorgeous, and it’s difficult not to remember that he knows what she looks like underneath it all.

He needs a glass of ice water. Or a cold shower.

They finish up their meal—a Mediterranean fish dish Abby likes—and Luka finds he’s unwilling for their time together to come to an end. Maybe, just maybe, if he keeps suggesting things, she’ll keep hanging out with him.

While he’s very tempted to suggest they stay in and watch something on TV, he’s not sure he’d be able to keep from jumping on her, or however the saying goes. And he very much wants to, but he needs to make sure it’s what she wants before potentially risking the wonderful friendship they have now. Instead he proposes a walk, and Abby agrees easily, though she seems to have doubts about whether her jacket will be warm enough.

Luka is willing to do whatever it takes to keep her warm.

It’s getting harder not to just reach for her hand when they walk beside each other. He wants to, and badly, and he considers compromising and offering his arm when she leads him onto a path by the lake. Finding out that she’s brought him to one of her favorite places to think, though—that touches something deep in him, fans the flames of hope that they might be ready to open up enough for a relationship.

He decides that if she can chance opening up, he can chance...something, while still not being too forward. He fights the nervousness churning in his gut and gently wraps his arm around her where they sit on the bench, letting out a sigh of relief when after a brief pause, they just continue talking (flirting). After a minute, when Abby leans into his chest ever so slightly, he again has to remind himself that he’s a grown man who might be in charge of an entire County ER soon. And that he needs to keep breathing.

Her light teasing followed by concern about whether he really does want the Chief position just cements what he’s been suspecting since roughly a week after he and Sam broke up—that he’s as in love with Abby as he’s been since she came to him in his hotel room five years ago.

Truthfully, he’s not sure he really does want to be Chief, but he’s far better than Clemente. Definitely better than any outsider they might find. Being Chief isn’t a particular dream of his, but it’s something he can pursue with less...finesse…than he’s attempting to pursue Abby.

It makes him wonder, though. He knows it’s fishing, but he can’t help it. Biting his lip, he asks, “What about you?”

“Well, I’m not in the running to be Chief. I should probably finish my residency first,” she grins.

Now that he’s put his arm around her and she seems okay with that, he can’t stop touching her. Or teasing her. He pinches her arm lightly in faux reprimand. “Okay, smartass. I meant if you had some big hopes, but I can see that you’ve already achieved your dream of always having a...feisty....response.”

She pauses for a long moment, and he wonders if the fabric of their reality is about to shift. His heart speeds up when she leans back further into his embrace and says, “There is one thing.”

“What is it?”

“I really want to see that space cowboy movie with Nathan Fillion. I’ve been meaning to since it came out, it just hasn’t happened yet.”

In spite of the pang of disappointment he feels, he’s still amused. And this? This he can handle and turn into more time with her. “Well, I guess if we hurry we could probably make a matinee. I can make your dream come true.”

If his hand lingers longer than strictly necessary when he helps her up, she doesn’t seem to mind.

&&&

Going to the movies with Abby is refreshingly normal. It’s fun to just relax and be them, but it’s also something they didn’t do much of when they were dating. It’s easier now to just be, to coexist together, enjoying each other’s presence in their quiet way. Luka doesn’t care much about the movie or care very much what happens, especially when the action picks up and Abby grabs at his arm and doesn’t let go.

His stomach growls as they’re leaving the theater, and he shrugs sheepishly as she laughs at him. They head to one of the hot dog vendors and are just starting to eat when the pages and calls come in from County. There’s a crisis, because of course there is.

They take his car, listening with alarm to the coverage of the plane crash. It’s going to be a busy night.

Luka isn’t wrong about that. It is busy, but not as brutal as it could have been. By the time he sees Baxter up to ICU and checks in on him, the ER has managed to get things under control.

He’s tired, but buzzed on the victory of a good night. He worked with Abby nearly the whole time, and it’s amazing how much better that makes things.

She’s his favorite person to work with. That’s been true since she was a nurse, and it’s doubly true now. He’s so proud of how far she’s come. Tonight, she was brilliant, and he can’t wait to see her become the great doctor he’s always known she can be.

He brushes off Clemente—yes, they probably should talk, but there’s no need to sour this night—and heads out into the ambulance bay on the way to his car.

He nearly runs into her, but he can’t fight the smile that tugs at his lips when he sees Abby. Nor can he fight the glow of happiness when she returns it.

“How’s our favorite patient?”

“Huh? Oh, Baxter. He made it up to ICU and will be fine, even if I’m not so sure about his fiancee.” Meeting Baxter’s fiancee had definitely been one of those times where he wished he could just be absorbed into the floor.

Abby snorts. “Good, good. That’ll be...fun.”

“Not our problem, at least,” he says. And thank god. For a moment, he wonders what she’s doing out here, then he remembers that they aren’t in fact the only doctors who’ve had a night. “Is Neela all right?”

“She will be, I was just worried about smoke inhalation.”

“She’s tough.” Neela is, but he’s not thinking about her anymore.

Especially when Abby shivers. His evil brain immediately supplies the image of her doing just that while he runs his tongue between her breasts, and he internally yells at himself. She’s COLD, it’s November and she’s out here with only her lab coat.

He can be a gentleman, even if his brain isn’t convinced. Luka reaches out and rubs her upper arms, trying to warm her while still keeping a respectable distance between them.

Liar, you just want to touch her, he hears. He ignores that voice and smiles down at Abby. “Cold?”

“A little. I forgot my jacket inside,” she says, biting her lip. His eyes follow the movement, and he decides to hell with respectable distance.

Stepping closer to her, Luka trails his hands to her back, holding her in a lose embrace. She can still move away if she doesn’t want this, but he’s tired of pretending he doesn’t. “I’d offer you my jacket, but…”

His eyes widen when she steps closer and grabs the labels of said jacket. “Yeah, that probably wouldn’t work.”

“Might get in the way,” he says, voice hoarse. “And we wouldn’t want that.”

“Nope.”

“We had a good night tonight,” he says, leaning his forehead against hers, brushing his nose against hers, their lips just centimeters apart.

It was a good night, even before they saved people’s lives, and Luka hopes it only gets better.  

So he presses his lips to hers in a slow, gentle kiss. When she responds, he pulls her closer until she’s standing on the tips of her toes, their bodies pressed against each other.

When she deepens the kiss, he can’t hold back a groan. Oh god, this is everything he’s wanted, probably since shortly after he met her, at minimum.

He can’t bring himself to care that they’re in public, at least not yet. Luka walks them back up against one of the stone walls, sliding a leg between hers so he can lift her a little more. He swallows her moan, sliding a hand under her top. He’s about to wrap her legs around his hips and carry her off somewhere, anywhere, so they can be together, when an ambulance zooms past, sirens blaring.

She pulls back and clears her throat, but he is still too undone to function.

“I need to finish up the case notes for Baxter and the, uh, the other patient.”

Abby is so adorable and uncertain, and she looks as thunderstruck as he feels. Luka licks his lips and brushes them across her forehead, letting her step out of the circle of his embrace. “See you tomorrow?”

She smiles, and everything in him sings with relief and joy. “Yeah. See you then. Good night.”

As she turns and walks back inside, he leans against the wall he’d just had her pressed up against, chest heaving. “Night.”

Luka doesn’t know how he’ll sleep, but maybe this once, his dreams will be as sweet as the feel of her in his arms, in his life.

&&&

Over the next couple of days, Luka worries that he’s losing his mind. He bounds back and forth between joy and despair from one moment to the next, and he just can’t. Was she as thrilled as he was? Did it mean more to her, or was it just a kiss? Just...getting caught up in the moment? Should they talk about it? Would this change nothing or everything?

Maybe it would have been easier if they had a chance to talk sooner, but in spite of them having a shift at the same time the very next day, they don’t get to talk. It’s insanely busy, and they don’t even end up working a single case together. They wave at each other in passing, but she’s already gone by the time he gets out of the last trauma of the evening.

She didn’t wait for him, which naturally makes him question everything. It’s not like she agreed to do so. Shit, maybe she didn’t even really want him to make a move the previous day. He desperately wants to call her and ask her if everything is fine, if it’s more than fine, but he gets an attack of nerves and starts sweating every time he types out a message addressing the issue. He can still text her about the normal, everyday things they’re accustomed to talking about, and he’s not sure if her decidedly normal responses are a good or bad sign.

A couple days later, they finally have a shift together again, and when Luka sees Abby in lockup, he shores up his courage. Kind of. He doesn’t need prednisone, but he needs a pretext. Taking a deep breath, he makes his way in.

Her eyes widen when she sees him, and she does that adorable, flustered thing she does when she’s nervous.

He can’t help but smile. “Hey there.”

“Oh, uh, hey.”

“I need to get the prednisone.”

He squeezes by her, and wants nothing more than to take her in his arms. She shivers when he brushes against her, and the sound fills him with hope. He still needs to check to make sure they’re okay, that he hasn’t damaged things with them, but it’s easier than he thought because it’s Abby.

Luka knows words aren’t his strong suit, though, so he fumbles for a moment before deciding to just be as blunt as he can. “Ah, I—well, I just want to make sure it was okay that I kissed you the other day.”

“Oh, I mean, I kissed you back, so...yeah. It’s fine,” she says.

“Good, good.” Initially, all he feels is relief. He hasn’t ruined it, and she did kiss him back. Then he takes in how still she is, how shuttered her expression has gotten.

Fuck. He panics again when she edges toward him, toward the exit. This can’t be all they are. They—she—deserves more than a glorious kiss followed by spluttering.

Then he sees it, and nearly smiles. The uncertainty, the hope, the setting—it’s five years ago all over again, and suddenly, he knows exactly what to do.

Reaching for her hand, he asks, “Abby?”

“Yeah?” She’s looking down at their hands, and he can see the nerves in her furrowed brow and tense shoulders.

“I—do you want to go out? Sometime soon?” God, why are his palms so sweaty?

Then her face transforms, and she smiles at him, pushing back her hair. It’s such a sweet and innocent gesture, and he nearly whoops with glee.

“You mean like date?”

He loves her, he loves her, he loves her. He loves that she remembers, he loves that she’s willing to tease him, and he loves all that she is. “Yes.”

If anything, Abby seems startled at his vehemence. “Oh, okay. Um, yeah. Tonight after our shift ends?”

He’s about to agree, when it hits him. “That’s fine—wait, our shift ends at midnight. Is that…?” He wills all of his blood to not flow south, but it sure sounds like she’s implying their date lead a very specific place. One of their beds, to be precise.

“Well, I don’t know what you have planned. But there’s definitely plenty we could do then.” Oh. Even he recognizes she’s flirting with him.

“Well, I don’t know what you have planned, but there’s definitely plenty we could do then…” She’s biting her lip, and he’s absolutely positive she’s trying to kill him. At least he’ll die a happy man.

Luka tries to take some semblance of control of himself, if not the situation. “We could always go play pool. It is ladies’ night.”

“Is it now?”

“Mmhmm. Unless you were thinking of something more physical.” He can’t help but tease her; he’d nearly walked straight into the admit desk in shock and arousal when she’d said that to him all those years ago.

She turns the prettiest pink and raises an eyebrow, grinning. “Oh, like you weren’t.”

“Always,” he says, and then he can no longer hold back. Taking her face in his hands, he kisses her. With the added clarity of their talk, knowing they’re going to be spending the evening together, and maybe longer (forever, he prays)—it’s better than their last kiss. Maybe better than any of their kisses, ever, though he’s willing to keep comparing.

He’s breathless and very, very aroused by the time she pulls back, running a hand down his chest. “Okay. See you later?”

A nod is all he can manage, but it does the trick. Neither of them want to leave, though, and risk breaking the beautiful spell. He’s seconds away of pulling her into his arms again when Chuny bursts in, sees their...state...and smirks. She talks to Abby, and Luka feels himself blushing. He can’t bring himself to regret anything that transpired, though he hopes Abby doesn’t feel awkward about getting caught.

“Luka?” He comes back to earth at Abby’s quiet question.

“Yes?” It’s a struggle not to tack on “my love” to the end of it, but he doesn’t want her to panic.

She stands on her toes, and presses a chaste but sweet and tender kiss to his lips. He was wrong earlier. That, that, is their best kiss so far, though he hopes they have a lifetime of them. “I’ll come find you when the shift is over.”

“Okay,” she says, and he smiles as he watches her walk down out and down the hallway, nearly skipping.

He can’t wait to see what’s next.

[decaf-mother]

[Cherry]

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Ada Wong x GN!Reader

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Warnings: MDNI, Smut, Spanking, Degrading Praise, Slight Pet Play, Strap-On Sex (Reader's Genitalia Not Specified)

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Summary: You'll take it like a good dog, won't you?

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Cherries… That's how the night started. Ada popping a cherry into your mouth, sweet juice meeting your tongue, the lipstick she wears matching the shade of the delicious treat placed into your mouth, her perfectly manicured fingernails tugging lightly at your lip.

“So good for me…”

And… That's how you ended up ass up in her soft red sheets, getting her strap on so deep you swear you're gonna be seeing god real soon, those pretty nails digging into your hips with each thrust - hitting all the good spots.

“That's it.”

Her voice maintains it's levelness, focused and smooth as ever, a few more smacks from her palm delivered to your already sore ass… Yeah, sitting down tomorrow will be a blast. An amused smirk graces her lips as you whine, she knows by now exactly how rough is acceptable with you, what buttons to push to make you mere putty in those gorgeous hands.

“Close?”

It's not as much of a question as it sounds, she already knows and that only makes it cave in on you harder, her pace picking up to damn near brutal - just watching you come apart under her. It'd be embarrassing if you weren't already too far gone in bliss, the way she just makes a mess of you… Oh, you are her favorite pet by far.

“Good dog.”