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#(just a dash. a smidge. for spice.)
lucienarcheron · 8 months
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Inspiration [ Elucien ]
Prompt: Modern AU | Aspiring writer Elain Archeron is looking for some inspiration for her new novel when she happens to meet the perfect man for the job. | Originally posted on 05.10.2022
Genre: Romance with some humor and a dash of spice 🌶 Warnings: Lots of feels?
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It wasn’t strange that she, little ‘ole prim Elain, was sitting in a booth at this high-end downtown bar with a notebook and pen, people-watching. Her laptop would’ve been too obvious and she didn’t want to get distracted on her phone so an old school notebook and pen seemed like a better fit. 
So far, she'd been propositioned by three older gentlemen. While flattered, Elain wasn’t exactly sure what about her simple black dress screamed hooker. Maybe it was the lipstick. It was a gorgeous red. 
Even though it was a Wednesday night and she hadn’t expected too much action, Elain’s eyes continued to watch the room carefully. She needed all the details she could get to properly set the scene for her next novel. 
Up-and-coming romance author Elain Archeron was on a new mission with her next book. She’d written several sweet romances that had her readers on a fluff overdose sprinkled with a little steam here and there. But now, she wanted to step out of her writing comfort zone for a bit and...spice it up. 
Her next book would be a spicy mafia romance.
A small giggle escaped her as the excitement of a new plot and characters bubbled inside her. Writing had become as glorious of an outlet for her as gardening. Nesta working in publishing had given her a great doorway into the writing world and she would be damned not to take advantage of this new passion. 
So, she had dived into Pinterest and created moodboard after moodboard of what she was envisioning for this book. The plot would be a little gritty, a little darker than her usual books but Elain knew exactly how the story would unfold from start to finish. She knew how her characters would meet and be thrown together. Most importantly, she knew the tropes that would bring this story to life. Elain planned on destroying her characters in the best way and then gluing them back together again with love. 
All it needed was just a smidge more inspiration. A dose of experience to really help her write from the heart so she could turn a morally grey, murderous asshole into a swoon-worthy lover that fucked like a god. She narrowed her eyes as she scanned the room again, tapping the pen to her chin until her gaze zeroed in on a gentleman sitting at the bar, alone.
And Elain felt her heart skip a beat. 
She had noticed him as soon as he walked in and had tried not to stare at him too hard but in reality, that’s all she’d been doing since he arrived ten minutes ago. Her eyes would take in details of the room and then eventually find their way right back to him.
Currently seated, Elain knew without him needing to stand, that he was tall and well-built. Judging by the way his dress shirt hugged his magnificent back and broad shoulders, he was quite a man.
The moment she had seen his face though, she knew he was the one. His features were sharp and elegant, handsome in a way that had knocked the wind out of her. The scar she had noticed on his face when he had walked in did nothing to make him any less attractive. In fact, all Elain could think about was how perfect he was.
She bit her lip and continued to discreetly watch the beautiful stranger as he sat, frowning down at whatever message he was reading on his phone. His sleeves were rolled up to expose toned forearms and Elain felt her face flush at the way he picked up his drink and brought it to his lips to take a sip and oh, was Elain Archeron starting to feel things.
The very vanilla sex she last had with Graysen many months ago clearly did as little for her now as it had done when she had it. 
Pulling out her phone, Elain texted the group chat.
morons<3
Elain: I found him.
Rhys: That’s not ominous at all.
Cassian: Shitsen? I told you I accidentally shoved him into a locker at the gym the other day. He’s not that hard to find. 
Rhys: Because he’s ugly. You can spot him a mile away. He’s probably still in there.
Feyre: How was it an accident if Rhys was filming it?
Rhys: I was trying to film myself flexing at the gym babe. It was for you <3
Cassian: *barf emoji* Cassian: But also you can smell him a mile away too.
Rhys: Musty.
Cassian: Gnarly. 
Nesta: Can you two shut up for a moment, please?  Nesta: Elain, please don’t tell me you’re stalking someone.
Elain rolled her eyes at her phone. Typical of them to turn the conversation elsewhere or think of her as a creep.
Elain: I am not stalking anyone. I’m at a bar. I found the ONE. The man who will help me with my writing inspiration.
Feyre: ...Elain pls don’t approach a strange man for inspiration.
Elain: I’m at the Sunshine and Rose. It’s a fancy place. He’s a fancy man. Could be the mafia man I’m looking for!!
Cassian: ...Rhys is right here, Elain.
Rhys: True. I’m offended you didn’t think of me. I am a mafia man.
Elain: Well, you’re not MY mafia man.  Elain: Plus you’re not hot. Esp since you’re sleeping with my sister.  Elain: You’re really gross <3
Nesta: I knew this was about your book. Don’t do anything crazy. I can’t publish it if you cause a scandal. Do you even have your NDA?
Rhys: Still offended but valid reasoning. Rhys: And you’re wrong. I’m VERY hot.  Rhys: Feyre says so.
Cassian: I say so too, bro. You’re really hot.  Cassian: Besides, you know I’m your muscle guy, Lanie. I’m offended you didn’t think of ME.
Rhys: so honored to be validated by a sexy beast like you bro. Rhys: I’m also offended on Cassian’s behalf. We’re both offended.
Elain: Suffer in silence pls <3 Elain: Yes, I have the NDA. I am merely notifying you of my whereabouts. Elain: He’s so hot. I think I will take him home. Elain: I hope to update you after I have spent the night located beneath him!!!!
Cassian: Right on. Get that D!!!!
Rhys: Make sure you have a condom. If he says he doesn’t have one, he’s lying.
Nesta: Elain. No. Nesta: Why are you idiots encouraging her?!!!!
Feyre: Elain don’t go home with a stranger.
Elain: Elain YES. Elain: Also, don’t pretend the two idiots in this chat weren’t strangers when you took them home.
Cassian: Hottest night of my LIFE.
Rhys: Second that. I was wrecked by the sheer beauty that is my Feyre darling.
Feyre: RHYS. Can we focus on my sister trying to creep on a stranger at some bar?
Rhys: I really want to focus on you instead.
Cassian: Nesta destroyed my body and soul that night. Should’ve filed a police report but I enjoyed it too much.
Nesta: Cassian.
Cassian: Sweetheart.
Feyre: SIGH. Can you PLEASE GET IT TOGETHER?? Feyre: Elain, take a picture of his face at least.
Elain snorted then sent a kissy face emoji as her final text. She straightened, her eyes immediately zeroing in again on her target who was now watching whatever was playing on the bar tv.
Standing, she smoothed down her dress and grabbed her purse then made her way towards him.
She would be casual about it. Smooth. She would just slide onto the barstool next to him and dazzle him with a smile. Then make him talk to her first. 
Sliding up to the counter, Elain stood with a barstool between them and snuck a glance at her beautiful stranger. A jolt of pleasure coursed through her body when she found him staring back. Elain gave him a pretty smile then turned back to the bartender. 
“Hi Jerry!” she greeted with a smile. “Sick of seeing my face here yet?”
“How could I when it’s so pretty?” the older man said with a laugh and Elain chuckled along. “Let me guess, a little rosé while you do your research?”
Elain pointed at him with a grin. “You know it! My favorite kind of pink drink.” 
The bartender walked away with a chuckle and Elain took a breath, pretending not to feel his gaze on her. She fiddled with her napkin for a moment, then looked up to find the beautiful stranger watching her curiously. She arched her brow and the man glanced down at his drink with a small smile before looking back at her.
“Hi.” 
“Hello.”
They glanced at each other quietly for a moment, her cheeks heating lightly at the curve of his sensuous lips. 
“I couldn’t help overhearing what Jerry said to you,” he began and angled his body to face her. “If you don’t mind me asking, what kind of research are you doing that requires you to be at a bar on a Wednesday night?”
Elain willed her body not to shudder at the way his voice washed over her like honey. His voice. 
Oh, she would need to describe that very explicitly. 
“Well,” she began and curled a strand of hair behind her ear, angling herself to face him as well, the empty seat between them. “I’m a writer. I’m trying to set the scene for my novel.” 
His face lit in interest and Elain took a moment to openly admire him. Up close, he was even more handsome than she imagined. His eyes were such a distinct color, she was itching to grab her pen to describe them. The scar was even more striking up close and Elain desperately wanted to touch it. 
“Ah, I see. What kind of stories do you write?”
“I’m a romance writer.” She said with pride and grinned at the chuckle that slipped from his lips. 
“Are you trying to write about two strangers meeting at a bar?” he teased. “Love at first sight?”
She rolled her eyes with a good-natured smile. “No. I’m writing something very different.” 
“Is that so?” he asked and leaned back to observe her. “So the story isn’t going to be about me then?”
Elain laughed. “That depends.” she said with a cute head tilt. “Has anyone ever told you, you look like you could be a mobster?”
The man stilled and blinked then let out a hearty laugh. “No.” he replied, amusement lacing his tone. “But what if I was an actual henchman in the mob? You just put a target on your back.”
Elain snorted and shot him a look. “A henchman in the mob wouldn’t say he was.” she replied knowingly. “You probably do something boring in marketing.”
“PR actually. Not quite as boring.” he said with a smile and raised the drink in salute. “But we can pretend I’m your mobster. I’m already wearing suspenders.”
Elain laughed, shaking her head with a smile. “All you need is a gun holster and a cigar then the look would be complete.”
He waved a hand. “Noted. Give me ten minutes, and I’ll show you the complete look.”
“Is that so? So eagerly giving away your secrets.”
“Sure. You’ve already uncovered my identity. I can’t risk my reputation now. First impressions are everything.”
Elain rolled her eyes, pleased he was following along with her conversation even as he was joking. She watched him as he watched her, doing her best not to shudder under his gaze. She only took her eyes off him when Jerry returned with her drink.
“So.” her handsome stranger started. “What’s the name of your mafia man?”
“That also depends. What’s your name?” she asked boldly and was pleased to see color bloom on his cheeks.
His lips curled into a smile. “I thought you said the story wouldn’t be about me.”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself now.” she said and he grinned. “All I asked was your name.”
“My name is Lucien.” he said. “And yours?”
“Elain.”  
“Do you always just walk up and start talking to strangers like this, Elain?”
“You’re the one who started talking to me.” she said with a cheeky grin and Lucien couldn’t help his laugh.
“Fair enough.” he said and raised his drink, taking a sip as his eyes roved over her body. “Couldn’t really help myself.”
Elain smiled, taking a sip of her own drink before she tilted her head sweetly and said, “Since you can’t help yourself do you mind if I pull out my notebook and jot down some ideas. If I don’t write them down, I will lose the thought.”
Amusement colored his face and he waved a hand. “By all means.”
Grinning, Elain quickly took out her notepad and pen, and then so shamelessly, her eyes cataloged every single inch of him. She savored every detail of his facial features, the way he was dressed, and the way he held himself. She watched him as he watched her until finally, Lucien was the first one to look away with a laugh.
“It’s the scar, isn’t it?”
“Oh, the scar is beautiful but it’s your eyes I’m focused on,” she said and quickly jot down her initial thoughts. “They’re a lovely shade. You also have a great nose.” 
“You’re giving off real weird vibes right now.” he finally said, his cheeks a lovely shade of red that Elain was eager to describe. “But I can’t say I’m not into it.”
Looking up from her notebook, Elain flushed with a laugh. “Well, it definitely helps that I’m pretty.”
Lucien grinned. “It absolutely helps.”
She fought back a grin but failed when he shot her a knowing look. “You flatter me, sir.” she said sweetly. “All I’m trying to do is write me a good ‘ole fashion mafia romance. I can’t help what kind of questions emerge to get inspiration.”
“Mafia romance, huh?” he asked and leaned in, a finger tracing the rim of his glass, and Elain’s eyes immediately followed the movement. “What kind of inspiration are you looking for then?”
This made Elain pause and watch him silently for a moment. She couldn’t exactly just blurt out that she wanted him to fuck her so hard she saw stars. To manhandle her just a little bit. 
Her eyes flickered to his very nice, very big hands then back to his face. 
That would be weird. She took a sip of her drink.
“Well,” she began carefully. “My romances have typically been tamer than what this one is but the market is really seeing an increase of love for more…intimate romances. I want to give it a shot.”
Lucien’s brows rose and Elain watched as a shit-eating grin formed on his face. “Is that so?”
“Yes.” she said slowly. “You see…I’ve only had minimal experience in that department.”
His brows rose. “Impossible.”
Elain nodded somewhat sadly. “Unfortunately, yes.”
“What kind of men have you been seeing?” he asked in such an offended tone, Elain flushed.
“Well. It was one guy.” she replied. “And he was more boy than man.”
Lucien’s face blanked and it took him a moment to speak. “Do you mind sharing his name? And home address?” he said calmly. “Asking for a friend.”
Elain laughed. “And you say you’re not a mobster?” she said and Lucien had the audacity to shrug with a small smile. “But no need. My sisters and their partners gave him enough grief. I’m pretty sure he has a restraining order against us.”
“If he had you and put you in a position where you have to look for inspiration elsewhere, he needs a good thrashing.” he replied. “Please, let me speak to my associates about him.”
Elain bit back a grin. “Your associates.”
“Gotta check with the big guy before we order a hit.” he said, having no issues grinning widely and Elain couldn’t help the hearty laugh that escaped her. 
“Well now, that’s very nice of you to offer.” she replied then paused before Elain gave him a coy smile. “But it’s not really the area I need inspiration for.”
He watched her silently for a moment and even as she felt her cheeks flush, Elain kept her gaze locked on his, watching as his eyes darkened. Then a slow smirk blessed his beautiful face.
“So if you don’t want me to use my associates to give someone a good thrashing,” he asked quietly. “How can I help you with your inspiration, Elain?”
Elain bit her lip, cataloging every detail of his toned body seating opposite her, every article of clothing, and every inch of his handsome face. Was she bold enough to tell him exactly what she wanted from him? Was it safe? Or was she being insane?
“Cat got your tongue?” he said, his voice low. “Or are you just trying to find a good way to ask me to fuck you senseless?”
Elain straightened and clenched her thighs together as she gaped at him. He clocked the movement and his smirk widened.
Letting out a chuckle, he took a sip of his drink and Elain watched him swallow, thinking about how she’d really like to lick his neck. 
“All you have to do is ask, love.” he continued. “I wasn’t planning on going home with a beautiful girl tonight but I am more than happy to change those plans.”
Elain watched him carefully. Did she? Should she?
“Well.” she stated and cleared her throat delicately. “What were your plans then? Being alone in this bar on a Wednesday night? One would think you’re up to no good.”
“I’m an angel.” he said in that low tone that told her he was anything but.
“Sounds like a sweet, sweet lie.”
He laughed. “Can’t a mafia man blow off some steam in a bar once in a while?” he said with a shrug and Elain rolled her eyes with a smile. 
“So just letting off some steam?”
“Yes. But I’m happy to find myself doing other things instead.”
Elain tapped her glass, her heart beating wildly as she watched him watch her. Good lord, she was already sweating. Was it because she was sex-deprived? Was it all the mafia and smutty books she’d been reading lately for inspiration that was getting to her? She was really going to ask this strange beautiful man to fuck her. 
Granted, he seemed eager. Which was great for her ego but…
“I want to be very clear about something.” she finally said. 
“Yes?” he asked with a raised brow and cocky grin. 
“This is all in the name of research.” she declared. “And research only.”
“Of course.” he said. “I’ve gone home with pretty girls for much less noble causes.”
Elain’s lips twitched. “And you’ll need to sign an NDA.”
His brows shot up. “An NDA?” he said. “How very Christian Grey of you to have me sign a contract.”
“To protect myself and you.” she said simply. “I can’t have you running around telling people I was propositioning you.”
“Isn’t that what you’re doing?” he said with a smirk.
“Need I remind you that you asked me how you could help me?” she said with her own little smirk. 
He hummed and Elain smiled.
“If I never mentioned I was a writer and looking for inspiration, would you still want to take me home?” she asked boldly. It wasn’t like she could embarrass herself further at this point. “Be honest, my feelings won’t get hurt if you say no.”
“Elain,” he began and her heart thumped at the curve of his lips when he said her name. “Bold of you to assume I wouldn’t have already had you in my home doing unspeakably delicious things to you.”
She flushed in delight. She couldn’t help it. Elain knew she was pretty but after her horrible breakup and the way Graysen had broken down her confidence in herself, it was nice to hear it. 
Also, she really needed to write that line down.
“Anyone ever tell you, you have a way with words?” she asked and he grinned.
“A high compliment from a writer.” he replied. “But I also have a question for you.”
“Yes?”
“We could've just flirted, went home together, and had a great time without you telling me about the writing part.” he said, his finger tapping against the glass. “Why tell me?”
Elain’s brows furrowed. “Because you have a right to know. I like being honest about these things.” she said. “Granted, as a writer, anything I hear or see is up for use as inspiration.”
He hummed softly, watching her. “Have you written about your ex?”
She flushed, frowning slightly. “Only once but shitty ex-boyfriends are common in romance reads.” she replied then shrugged. “And it was more about the way my character felt than about her crappy ex.”
Lucien nodded sagely. “Understandable.” 
Elain straightened suddenly. “Has this weirded you out?” she asked and blinked at him with wide eyes. “I usually curb my weirdness to close friends and family only, I just haven’t interacted with a real man like this in a while.”
“A real man?” he asked, amusement lacing his tone and Elain promptly wanted to die.
“I mean — “ she started with a flush, taking a quick sip of her drink. “I’m a writer and reader. I spent a lot of time with fictional men.”
“Ah. And those are infinitely better than real men, I take it?”
She gave him a small smile. “Most of the time.”
It fell silent between them and Elain watched him as he watched her. Now that she’d finally stopped talking, embarrassment was slowly starting to catch up to her. She had fought with herself tooth and nail to not feel bad about herself and her quirky personality but at times like this, it crept up. When she forgot herself and forgot that not everyone liked her as she was.
Graysen had ridiculed her so much about her writing. Once he had gotten to know her, he pretty much ridiculed everything she did but especially her writing. Anytime she’d ask him a question or about his thoughts, he never had anything nice to say. He always laughed at her and her silly little ideas.
“Stick to your plants, it’s what you’re good at.” he had sneered at her when she had first told him she’d written a book. Elain had been so excited to share. It had been so hard to keep it a secret from everyone but he had only given her an unimpressed look and said, “Isn’t Nesta the one into books? Keep to your own thing, Elain.”
Maybe she’d gotten carried away in this little game. Elain had only wanted to have a little fun. She could use her imagination and Pinterest and other books for inspiration. She didn’t need to keep embarrassing herself. This was weird. Sure, she wanted to have some of that good sex that everyone else keeps talking about for once but she could probably do it without all this. She could’ve just gone with him without saying a single thing and —
“Show me the NDA.”
Elain blinked, focusing back at the very handsome man across from her. “What?”
He gave her a simple smile. “Either you’re overthinking this really hard or…your mind went down the gutter faster than mine did.” he said. “And if it’s the latter, I assure you, my gutter is much, much worse.”
Elain’s cheeks heated. “Big words for a mafia man that’s not a mafia man.” she said with a small chuckle.
Lucien’s lips curled into a smirk. “Elain.” he started. “The moment you sat across from me with your pretty face and pretty dress, I knew we would have a good time together.” She watched as his finger tapped the side of his glass and then met his gaze. “You seem like the kind of girl who likes being told what to do but doesn’t know it yet.” He leaned forward and her breath hitched. “Lucky for you, I love telling people what to do. Especially in my bedroom.”
His hand left his glass and instead of letting his finger trace the rim of his glass, it was now lightly tracing Elain’s hand.
“And to answer your earlier question, I am not weirded out.” he said, the corner of his mouth lifting. “I find you and this entire conversation fascinating.”
Elain blinked, her gaze on his hand touching hers and she wondered if one could orgasm from hand touching alone. “Right.”
“You’re clearly passionate about what you do.” he said in that charming voice of his, gently turning over her hand so that his fingers could slide across her palm to her wrist and settle on the pulse point.
“Very passionate.” she said quietly, her eyes still on his long, beautiful fingers.
“Then give me the NDA. So I can sign it and take you home.” Lucien continued. “Where I can fuck you the way you deserve.”
Elain’s head shot up and she met his eyes. “That’s awfully straightforward of you.”
“Just as straightforward as you aimed to be, I imagine.”
She finally remembered herself and shrugged, a coy smile blooming on her face. “I just came here to look for inspiration.”
Lucien flattened his hand over hers and Elain flushed at the way her hand was dwarfed beneath his. “I daresay, I can help you with that.”
She swallowed. “And how are you so sure of that?”
Lucien glanced at her for a moment then slowly slid off his barstool to stand before her. He towered over her slightly and Elain relished in the way he stood so close. His hand left hers and instead, his fingers found their way to gently lift her chin to meet his gaze.
“I’m sure of that because,” he began quietly and leaned closer until he was a breath away from her lips. “I felt your pulse jump when I touched you.” His hand slid from her jaw down the column of her neck. “I feel it in the way you swallow.” That same hand cupped the back of her neck and Elain shuddered beneath his gaze and touch. “And I guarantee if I slid my hand beneath your little black dress, between those lovely thighs, I’d find something hot and wet waiting for me.”
Elain’s lips parted in surprise, her skin hot all over. His words had slid across her skin and down her spine and good lord, if he only knew how soaked she’d become. Gooseflesh erupted on her skin when his thumb traced the column of her neck and she tried not to be too obvious in inhaling the scent of him. 
“What do you think of that, Elain?” he said with a devilish smile that she knew would be impossible to describe because it was distinctly him. This stranger she met in a bar. This stranger that felt like no stranger at all.
She was thinking she wanted him to lay her right here across this bar and have his way with her. Elain was thinking she’d probably let him do things to her she never thought she’d let a man do. Except for this one. Because Lucien sure as hell seemed like the type to want to do those things to her. 
“I’m thinking,” she began and swallowed, her skin heating at the smirk he gave her. “That I’d really like you to kiss me.”
“It’s a good thing you mentioned that,” he replied quietly. “Because I’ve been dying to smear that lipstick.”
With the hand holding her neck, Lucien tugged her forward and devoured her. Elain whimpered against him, against his surprisingly soft lips as he kissed her, his kiss bruising — hard — a claiming and she let him claim her. Her hands found their way to his suspenders and she tugged him closer, her grip tightening when his free hand cupped the back of her head and his other hand slid to trace the column of her neck again. When she felt his tongue, Elain eagerly opened for him and Lucien stole kisses as he stole her breath. He kissed her, his mouth nipping, biting, and imprinting his lips on hers. And when Elain had fully melted against him, fully surrendered to his mouth and tongue and hands, when he had her gripping his suspenders tightly enough that her knuckles had turned white, did Lucien finally pull away.
He most definitely had smeared her lipstick, she thought as she glanced at him in a slight daze. Half of her lipstick was on his lips. He had the audacity to grin wickedly at her.
“Now that I’ve satisfied your request, should we be on our way?” he asked calmly as if he hadn’t just scrambled her brains with that kiss. She hadn’t been kissed like that since — since well, since ever. 
Elain blinked, catching her breath, her hands still clutching him tightly. She wanted to let go, she really knew she should but the feeling of his body beneath those suspenders caused her to shudder.
“I need to take a picture of your face.” she finally said. “For my sisters.”
He smiled, his hands smoothing her hair back. “Would you like me to grab your phone? Your hands seem a little occupied.”
She flushed and aimed to let go when his hands settled over hers. “Don’t let go just yet.” he said quietly. “I like your hands there.”
If possible, her flush deepened. And, oh she was feeling a lot of things at the moment. She kept her hands where they were and said somewhat hoarsely, “My phone is in my purse.”
Lucien’s lips twitched and he moved a hand to slip inside her purse, the other still covering the hand locked on his suspenders. He held up her phone to unlock it with the Face ID then glanced at the screen, his face lit up in amusement. 
“I assume the group chat titled Morons is the one you’ll be sending my picture to.” he said, his thumb stroking the back of her hand still holding on to him. 
Finally shaken out of her stupor, Elain cleared her throat and licked her lips. Her lips that still tingled just a little from the force of his lips on hers. She flushed and suppressed a giggle. “Yes.” she said and released one suspender, leaving her other hand happily held hostage beneath his. “It’s my sisters and my brothers-in-law.” 
“Let’s take a selfie then, shall we?” he teased and Elain pursed her lips, willing herself not to smile. Or launch herself at him again. 
He turned his back to her, and kept her hand locked beneath his so it looked like Elain was hugging him from the side. Raising the phone, Lucien grinned and Elain couldn’t help her own smile at the camera. Snapping the photo, the two inspected it together and Elain laughed at the clear evidence of their makeout.
“Oh, they’re going to have a hoot with this.” she mumbled. “Send it.” 
Lucien tugged her into him closer so that she hugged his back and he glanced over his shoulder at her. “You okay with me opening your group chat?”
She would be okay with him opening anything, but most especially her legs. Rather than embarrass herself further by saying that, she only nodded and watched him open the text chain, chuckle, then attach the image and send it.
Elain: *attached image* Found my mafia man ;)
“I didn’t say that.” she objected and Lucien twisted to face her with a knowing look. 
“You were absolutely going to text that.”
She was. But she wouldn’t admit it. Squinting at him, she opened her mouth to respond when her phone pinged and Lucien arched a brow.
“Do you want me to open that?”
“Nope.” she said quickly as several pings followed. “They can’t be trusted to behave themselves.” Finally, tugging herself away from him, she held out her hand for her phone. “Especially with how many texts are coming in, these assholes could be saying anything.”
“Well, it hardly seems fair that I can’t read what’s being said about me.” 
“I think we can find other ways to fill our time.” she said and instantly felt the shift in him.
“Ah, yes.” he said quietly. “Your research.”
“Yes. My — research.”
Lucien chuckled lightly and Elain watched as he glanced at her, his thumb coming up to gently graze her cheek. “Are you having second thoughts? Do you need me to kiss you again?”
Her cheeks heated as she watched his expression. She was very nearly ready to have him take her right then and there. “No second thoughts but I definitely, definitely think you should kiss me again.”
“And where would you like me to kiss you, my lady?” he asked, his voice dropping low and Elain had to swallow hard. She was past embarrassment at this point. She wanted to feel and be seen and touched. And god damn did she want this man between her legs in whatever way he was willing to be.
“Everywhere.” she answered. “I want you to kiss me everywhere.”
Lucien’s grin was wolfish at her response. “Well, aren’t you a good girl.” he said in that voice she would have a grand time describing. “You gave me the exact answer I wanted to hear.”
morons<3
Feyre: Oh…oh wow Elain.
Nesta: Well, that was fast.
Cassian: YOOOOOO
Cassian: RHYSSSSSS
Rhys: yo isn’t that Spell-Cleaver?
Cassian: iT’S FUCKEN LUCIEN
Cassian: love that guy he’s hilarious
Rhys: Holy shit it is Lucien
Feyre: You guys know him???? Feyre: Is he a normal person???
Nesta: He already has her lipstick on him. Nesta: Is she going to be safe with him?
Rhys: Oh yeah. He’s a good dude. Rhys: I remember him from uni days Rhys: We did business with his company a while back too. Straight forward, cool guy. 
Cassian: We see him in Az’s bar sometimes.  Cassian: But yo. Wasn’t he like, a hoe in college? Cassian: Elain is about to get her world rocked.
Nesta: CASSIAN.
Feyre: Cassian no.
Cassian: WHAT.  Cassian: I’m just saying based on the rumors we heard 
Rhys: Elain is def going to have a good time.
Cassian: Lulu is foxy in bed
Rhys: Gentleman on the streets
Cassian: freak in the sheets. Cassian:: AYYYYY
Rhys: AYYYYY
Feyre: I hate you both.
Nesta: I’m going to stab both of you in the throat the next time I see you.
Cassian: *smirk emoji* *heart emoji*
Nesta: *knife emoji*
Feyre: At least he’s hot. He really does give off mob vibes with that scar.
Rhys: You can’t say that Feyre darling. I’m right here.
Feyre: *middle finger emoji*
Nesta: I wonder if he’d be willing to be on the cover if he shows Elain a good time.
Feyre: I think so. He so willingly took the picture and gave his full name.
Nesta: He is attractive. His face would sell it. Nesta: Feyre. Nesta: FEYRE. Nesta: Her hand. Look at where her hand is.
Feyre: Oh…OKAY ELAIN.  Feyre: I like that he’s wearing suspenders. That’s attractive.
Rhys: Cassian. My feels are hurt bro.
Cassian: my feels are hurt too bro. they’re just ignoring us.
Feyre: Nes, take out tomorrow for deets?
Nesta: Yes, I want Chinese while grilling her.
Rhys: I’ll bring the drinks.
Nesta: You’re not invited. 
Cassian: Can you order me the dumplings?
Feyre: You’re also not invited.
Nesta: Sisters only. *X emoji* Nesta: I’ll bring us those nice face masks.
Cassian: I want a face mask.
Feyre: no<3
Rhys: But I love me a good face mask too.
Nesta: No. *middle finger emoji*
Cassian: Nes, if I let you peg me, can I come for face masks and chinese?
Nesta: for fucks sake cassian.
Rhys: HAHA
Feyre: god damn it Cassian
Rhys: I mean, Feyre darling if that’s what gets me a face mask and the tea…*smirk emoji*
Nesta: you’re both disgusting.
Feyre: *eyes roll emoji* No. Feyre: unless? *side eye emoji*
Nesta: FEYRE
Elain had finally stumbled home the following afternoon after being fucked six ways to Sunday and found her sisters waiting for her with face masks, food, and wide eyes. Elain only grinned sheepishly and slumped against her door.
“I’m glad you’re alive.” Nesta said dryly and Elain waved her off with a hand, her grin wide on her face.
“That good, huh?” Feyre asked with her own grin.
“Yes.” she breathed, still thinking about Lucien and what he had done to her. At the way he had kissed her and touched her and fucked her. It hadn’t been good. It had been great.
Elain couldn’t remember a time she had been so enthusiastic to have someone fuck her. Then again, she had had only one partner, and even in her fantasies, it hadn’t been like that. Elain bit her lip as a blush bloomed on her cheeks, her mind drifting back to a night like nothing she’d ever experienced before…
~
“I’m going to take, and take, and take from you, Elain.” he had whispered in her ear darkly. “And then my god am I going to give you. You understand?”
“Yes.”
“You’re going to be a good girl for me?” he had asked her while his hands caressed her bare skin. “Will you be the best girl for me? Because if you are, I’m going to make you come so hard you’ll see stars.”
“I’ll be the best girl.” she whispered and shuddered when his lips had kissed and licked their way down her neck, to her collarbones, and then to her exposed breasts. Her hands had come up to immediately cover them, flushing lightly as he looked up at her, quirking a brow in question.
“They’re — they’re small.” she said and Lucien shot her a look so disapproving, she thought he’d spank her. 
He had spanked her later on but at that moment, his hands had cupped one gently, and giving her one last look, his mouth descended on the other. Elain’s moans were breathy as he sucked and squeezed her breasts, switching between the two. He had only pulled away to ask her in a husky voice, “You like my mouth right here? Because I love these pretty things so much.”
A strangled cry was the only reply she could give when he bit down on one gently and squeezed the other. Then switched and did it again. The sound that came out of her mouth had him pulling away with a smirk.
“Such sounds coming out of that lovely mouth.” he whispered, kissing the valley between her breasts. “You’re going to take my cock in your pretty little pussy and come when I tell you to?” he asked softly, sliding his hands up and smoothing back her hair. “Because I want to fuck you very, very hard, Elain. May I do that, please?”
She knew he could feel the wetness that pooled between her legs at the words and resisted the urge to arch against him. “I’ll take whatever you want to give me.” she breathed.
“You’re just an angel, aren’t you?” he whispered and left a light kiss on her lips. “So ready for me to use you and then take care of you. You want me to take care of you?”
“Please.” she nearly begged. “Please take care of me.”
“Then spread your legs a little wider for me, love. Let me see you in all your glory.”
And take care of her he had. 
It was like Lucien was made for Elain and Elain was made for Lucien.
After he had worshipped her between her legs, he lined himself up to her entrance with her legs around his waist, and Lucien watched her face as he slid into her the first time. And that moment, the moment he had filled her up to the hilt…Lucien knew this was different. Elain knew she wouldn’t be the same. The way he fit her had Elain never wanting to be without his cock again. And by the gods, had she wanted to feel how he fit her without a condom and have his come spill out of her.
Which would be insane of course, considering they had only met that evening. But these feelings, these intense emotions. Oh, she had all the inspiration she needed. 
It had only gotten better from there. He had flipped her over and feasted on her again before taking her hard and fast from behind. 
Elain never thought she’d be the kind of girl who enjoyed her face being pushed into the mattress like that but when it was Lucien’s hands holding her and his cock fucking her, she found she liked it a little too much.
And she also found that she liked it even more when he talked to her. In between their rigorous activities, they took breaks to chat and get to know the person they were baring themselves to. 
Elain found she liked Lucien and the way his mind worked a lot. Lucien found he felt the same about Elain.
And then Elain found she really wanted to suck the cock that made her feel so good. She had crawled toward him on his bed and draped herself across his legs, blinking up at him innocently.
“I want to make you feel good too.” she had whispered and Lucien had smiled at her, brushing her hair to the side.
“And how do you want to do that?”
“By taking you in my mouth.”
“No, you need to phrase that better, love.” he commanded softly, his thumb sliding across her bottom lip. “How do you want to make me feel good?”
“By sucking your cock.” she answered breathlessly. “I want you to come in my mouth.”
“It’s a good thing I want to come in your mouth too, princess.” he replied and then sat back, a king on his throne of a bed. “Show me what a good girl can do with that pretty mouth.”
And Elain certainly had, savoring the way he swore, the way his hands had tightened in her hair, and the way he barely held it together while her tongue played with him, especially as her own wetness dripped down her legs. Lucien had spilled in her mouth with such intensity, come had spilled down the sides of her mouth. She had swallowed as much as she could, like the good girl she wanted to be for him and Lucien’s grin had been feral at the sight.
Shortly after, he had spread her legs and returned the favor with his mouth and fingers then flipped her over and took her from behind a second time, pulling her up, his fist wrapped around her hair. “Look at your pretty swollen cunt, flower.” he had growled in her ear as she whined and panted to the rhythm of his thrusts. “You’re doing so good. It’s a perfect fit for my cock.”
“Please.” she had begged. As if he hadn’t been giving her everything she wanted and more. 
Lucky for Elain, Lucien had wanted to keep giving and taking. It was well in the AM that Elain had been fucked in every corner of his bedroom. She had come riding his dick and his face and his cock again, flopping rather unattractively on his bed with a little whimper after what she thought was the final fucking.
He had chuckled, his hands gently caressed her back and Lucien had paused for just a moment then smacked her plump little ass firmly. He had given her just one moment of reprieve then — a ragged cry escaped her lips as he pulled her hips back towards him, pulling her ass up the way he wanted. “I’m sorry, flower. I thought we were done but then your pretty little pussy —” he started as his hands slid to play with her and Elain couldn’t help the rocking of her hips against his fingers. Or the little needy moan that escaped her lips at how sensitive she was. “ — looks like it needs my cock one more time.” He had whispered and pulled his hand away so he squeezed her ass instead and slid it soothingly up her spine, his other hand fisting his cock slowly. “I love my hand on your throat,” he continued in his ear, and she shuddered against him. “But I love your face pressed in my sheets and the sweet, sweet sounds you make. What would you like?”
Elain had only arched her hips further for him and turned her head to meet his gaze. “Whatever you want to do.” she breathed. “I’m all yours.”
With a wolfish grin, Lucien had pulled her lips to his for a searing kiss and thrust into her to the hilt once more. He had told her she had one more orgasm in her and just like a good little girl, she obliged. 
Elain hadn’t remembered her name or anything about herself for the rest of that night. She only knew that she was in the arms of a man who had her body trembling in need and pleasure. Pleasure he had given her all night, pleasure he had given her the morning after he had made her breakfast, and pleasure he had given her right until he sent her home.
She had kissed him goodbye, her hand on the doorknob when his hand had slid up her dress and he had pushed her panties to the side, rubbing his fingers in the wetness of her heated center. He thrust two fingers inside her with a pleased hum.
“One more time before you go.” He had whispered in her ear as she braced herself against his door and rocked her hips to match the thrust of his fingers. “So I can savor your taste until I get you to myself again.”
She had made a desperate, filthy little noise as he played with her and pumped his fingers into her. He had whispered such dirty things in her ear and Elain had slumped against the door as she came with a choked cry. Lucien had only chuckled when he pulled away, his eyes locked on hers as he licked his fingers clean. 
Elain had left his house on shaking legs and her legs nearly started shaking again just reliving the memories.
“Well, shit. He must’ve really rocked your world.” Feyre said with a cackle and Elain blinked, her blush deepening as she finally remembered she was back at her apartment with her sisters waiting on her. Waiting on her to explain and not on her knees in front of Lucien and letting him do whatever he wanted to her.
Her sisters shared a look, both clearly holding back more laughs but Elain…well, she knew she had gotten all the inspiration she needed. Inspiration and maybe…maybe something more.
“Are you seeing him again?” Nesta asked, quirking a brow.
“For dinner tomorrow night.” she whispered. “And then for a date he’s planning the day after.”
“And more fucking, I presume?” Feyre asked, her lips twitching.
“Definitely more fucking.” Nesta added on with a snort at Elain’s flushed face.
“If I’m lucky.” was Elain’s reply and she straightened, feeling the effects of Lucien everywhere. “And I think I’m going to be very, very lucky.”
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moononastring · 2 years
Text
Inspiration [ Elucien ]
Prompt: Modern AU | Aspiring writer Elain Archeron is looking for some inspiration for her new novel when she happens to meet the perfect man for the job.
Pairing: Elucien <3 Genre: Romance with some humor and a dash of spice 🌶 Warnings: Lots of feels?
Author’s Note: Happy birthday to me 🎉 This Modern AU has been living in my head rent-free for a few months and originally, I was planning to make it a few parts but alas, this felt like a better fit for me now! I hope you ENJOY! Let me know how you like it :)
Tagging: @ladyofcaraverre | @ruhncervos | @helion-ism | @ourbooksuniverse | @ahkhnn | @selesera | @my-inner-crisis | @ughbandmembersx | @ladyelain | @bowdawn | @rarephloxes | @lidiacervos |
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It wasn’t strange that she, little ‘ole prim Elain, was sitting in a booth at this high-end downtown bar with a notebook and pen, people watching. Her laptop would’ve been too obvious and she didn’t want to get distracted on her phone so an old school notebook and pen seemed like a better fit. 
So far, she'd been propositioned by three older gentlemen. While flattered, Elain wasn’t exactly sure what about her simple black dress screamed hooker. Maybe it was the lipstick. It was a gorgeous red. 
Even though it was a Wednesday night and she hadn’t expected too much action, Elain’s eyes continued to watch the room carefully. She needed all the details she could get to properly set the scene for her next novel. 
Up-and-coming romance author Elain Archeron was on a new mission with her next book. She’d written several sweet romances that had her readers on a fluff overdose sprinkled with a little steam here and there. But now, she wanted to step out of her writing comfort zone for a bit and...spice it up. 
Her next book would be a spicy mafia romance.
A small giggle escaped her as the excitement of a new plot and characters bubbled inside her. Writing had become as glorious of an outlet for her as was gardening. Nesta working in publishing had given her a great doorway into the writing world and she would be damned not to take advantage of this new passion. 
So, she had dived into Pinterest and created moodboard after moodboard of what she was envisioning for this book. The plot would be a little gritty, a little darker than her usual books but Elain knew exactly how the story would unfold from start to finish. She knew how her characters would meet and be thrown together. Most importantly, she knew the tropes that would bring this story to life. Elain planned on destroying her characters in the best way and then gluing them back together again with love. 
All it needed was just a smidge more inspiration. A dose of experience to really help her write from the heart so she could turn a morally grey, murderous asshole into a swoon-worthy lover that fucked like a god. She narrowed her eyes as she scanned the room again, tapping the pen to her chin until her gaze zeroed in on a gentleman sitting at the bar, alone.
And Elain felt her heart skip a beat. 
She had noticed him as soon as he walked in and had tried not to stare at him too hard but in reality, that’s all she’d been doing since he arrived ten minutes ago. Her eyes would take in details of the room then eventually find their way right back to him.
Currently seated, Elain knew without him needing to stand, that he was tall and well-built. Judging by the way his dress shirt hugged his magnificent back and broad shoulders, he was quite a man.
The moment she had seen his face though, she knew he was the one. His features were sharp and elegant, handsome in a way that had knocked the wind out of her. The scar she had noticed on his face when he had walked in did nothing to make him any less attractive. In fact, all Elain could think about was how perfect he was.
She bit her lip and continued to discreetly watch the beautiful stranger as he sat, frowning down at whatever message he was reading on his phone. His sleeves were rolled up to expose toned forearms and Elain felt her face flush at the way he picked up his drink and brought it to his lips to take a sip and oh, was Elain Archeron starting to feel things.
The very vanilla sex she last had with Graysen many months ago clearly did as little for her now as it had done when she had it. 
Pulling out her phone, Elain texted the group chat.
morons<3
Elain: I found him.
Rhys: That’s not ominous at all.
Cassian: Shitsen? I told you I accidentally shoved him into a locker at the gym the other day. He’s not that hard to find. 
Rhys: Because he’s ugly. You can spot him a mile away. He’s probably still in there.
Feyre: How was it an accident if Rhys was filming it?
Rhys: I was trying to film myself flexing at the gym babe. It was for you <3
Cassian: *barf emoji* Cassian: But also you can smell him a mile away too.
Rhys: Musty.
Cassian: Gnarly. 
Nesta: Can you two shut up for a moment please?  Nesta: Elain, please don’t tell me you’re stalking someone.
Elain rolled her eyes at her phone. Typical of them to turn the conversation elsewhere or think of her as a creep.
Elain: I am not stalking anyone. I’m at a bar. I found the ONE. The man who will help me with my writing inspiration.
Feyre: ...Elain pls don’t approach a strange man for inspiration.
Elain: I’m at the Sunshine and Rose. It’s a fancy place. He’s a fancy man. Could be the mafia man I’m looking for!!
Cassian: ...Rhys is right here, Elain.
Rhys: True. I’m offended you didn’t think of me. I am a mafia man.
Elain: Well, you’re not MY mafia man.  Elain: Plus you’re not hot. Esp since you’re sleeping with my sister.  Elain: You’re really gross <3
Nesta: I knew this was about your book. Don’t do anything crazy. I can’t publish it if you cause a scandal. Do you even have your NDA?
Rhys: Still offended but valid reasoning. Rhys: And you’re wrong. I’m VERY hot.  Rhys: Feyre says so.
Cassian: I say so too, bro. You’re really hot.  Cassian: Besides, you know I’m your muscle guy, Lanie. I’m offended you didn’t think of ME.
Rhys: so honored to be validated by a sexy beast like you bro. Rhys: I’m also offended on Cassian’s behalf. We’re both offended.
Elain: Suffer in silence pls <3 Elain: Yes, I have the NDA. I am merely notifying you of my whereabouts. Elain: He’s so hot. I think I will take him home. Elain: I hope to update you after I have spent the night located beneath him!!!!
Cassian: Right on. Get that D!!!!
Rhys: Make sure you have a condom. If he says he doesn’t have one, he’s lying.
Nesta: Elain. No. Nesta: Why are you idiots encouraging her?!!!!
Feyre: Elain don’t go home with a stranger.
Elain: Elain YES. Elain: Also, don’t pretend the two idiots in this chat weren’t strangers when you took them home.
Cassian: Hottest night of my LIFE.
Rhys: Second that. I was wrecked by the sheer beauty that is my Feyre darling.
Feyre: RHYS. Can we focus on my sister trying to creep on a stranger at some bar?
Rhys: I really want to focus on you instead.
Cassian: Nesta destroyed my body and soul that night. Should’ve filed a police report but I enjoyed it too much.
Nesta: Cassian.
Cassian: Sweetheart.
Feyre: SIGH. Can you PLEASE GET IT TOGETHER?? Feyre: Elain, take a picture of his face at least.
Elain snorted then sent a kissy face emoji as her final text. She straightened, her eyes immediately zeroing in again on her target who was now watching whatever was playing on the bar tv.
Standing, she smoothed down her dress and grabbed her purse then made her way towards him.
She would be casual about it. Smooth. She would just slide onto the barstool next to him and dazzle him with a smile. Then make him talk to her first. 
Sliding up to the counter, Elain stood with a barstool between them and snuck a glance at her beautiful stranger. A jolt of pleasure coursed through her body when she found him staring back. Elain gave him a pretty smile then turned back to the bartender. 
“Hi Jerry!” she greeted with a smile. “Sick of seeing my face here yet?”
“How could I when it’s so pretty?” the older man said with a laugh and Elain chuckled along. “Let me guess, a little rosé while you do your research?”
Elain pointed at him with a grin. “You know it! My favorite kind of pink drink.” 
The bartender walked away with a chuckle and Elain took a breath, pretending not to feel his gaze on her. She fiddled with her napkin for a moment, then looked up to find the beautiful stranger watching her curiously. She arched her brow and the man glanced down at his drink with a small smile before looking back at her.
“Hi.” 
“Hello.”
They glanced at each other quietly for a moment, her cheeks heating lightly at the curve of his sensuous lips. 
“I couldn’t help overhearing what Jerry said to you,” he began and angled his body to face her. “If you don’t mind me asking, what kind of research are you doing that requires you to be at a bar on a Wednesday night?”
Elain willed her body not to shudder at the way his voice washed over her like honey. His voice. 
Oh, she would need to describe that very explicitly. 
“Well,” she began and curled a strand of hair behind her ear, angling herself to face him as well with an empty seat between them. “I’m a writer. I’m trying to set the scene for my novel.” 
His face lit in interest and Elain took a moment to openly admire him. Up close, he was even more handsome than she imagined. His eyes were such a distinct color, she was itching to grab her pen to describe them. The scar was even more striking up close and Elain desperately wanted to touch it. 
“Ah, I see. What kind of stories do you write?”
“I’m a romance writer.” She said with pride and grinned at the chuckle that slipped from his lips. 
“Are you trying to write about two strangers meeting at a bar?” he teased. “Love at first sight?”
She rolled her eyes with a good-natured smile. “No. I’m writing something very different.” 
“Is that so?” he asked and leaned back to observe her. “So the story isn’t going to be about me then?”
Elain laughed. “That depends.” she said with a cute head tilt. “Has anyone ever told you, you look like you could be a mobster?”
The man stilled and blinked then let out a hearty laugh. “No.” he replied, amusement lacing his tone. “But what if I was an actual henchman in the mob? You just put a target on your back.”
Elain snorted and shot him a look. “A henchman in the mob wouldn’t say he was.” she replied knowingly. “You probably do something boring in marketing.”
“PR actually. Not quite as boring.” he said with a smile and raised the drink in salute. “But we can pretend I’m your mobster. I’m already wearing suspenders.”
Elain laughed, shaking her head with a smile. “All you need is a gun holster and a cigar then the look would be complete.”
He waved a hand. “Noted. Give me ten minutes, I’ll be ready to show you the complete look.”
“Is that so? So eagerly giving away your secrets.”
“Sure. You’ve already uncovered my identity. I can’t risk my reputation now. First impressions are everything.”
Elain rolled her eyes, pleased he was following along with her conversation even as he was joking. She watched him as he watched her, doing her best not to shudder under his gaze. She only took her eyes off him when Jerry returned with her drink.
“So.” her handsome stranger started. “What’s the name of your mafia man?”
“That also depends. What’s your name?” she asked boldly and was pleased to see color bloom on his cheeks.
His lips curled into a smile. “I thought you said the story wouldn’t be about me.”
“Don’t get ahead of yourself now.” she said and he grinned. “All I asked was your name.”
“My name is Lucien.” he said. “And yours?”
“Elain.”  
“Do you always just walk up and start talking to strangers like this, Elain?”
“You’re the one who started talking to me.” she said with a cheeky grin and Lucien couldn’t help his laugh.
“Fair enough.” he said and raised his drink, taking a sip as his eyes roved over her body. “Couldn’t really help myself.”
Elain smiled, taking a sip of her own drink before she tilted her head sweetly and said, “Since you can’t help yourself do you mind if I pull out my notebook and jot down some ideas. If I don’t write them down, I will lose the thought.”
Amusement colored his face and he waved a hand. “By all means.”
Grinning, Elain quickly took out her notepad and pen, and then so shamelessly, her eyes cataloged every single inch of him. She savored every detail of his facial features, the way he was dressed, and the way he held himself. She watched him as he watched her until finally, Lucien was the first one to look away with a laugh.
“It’s the scar, isn’t it?”
“Oh, the scar is beautiful but it’s your eyes I’m focused on,” she said and quickly jot down her initial thoughts. “They’re a lovely shade. You also have a great nose.” 
“You’re giving off real weird vibes right now.” he finally said, his cheeks a lovely shade of red that Elain was eager to describe. “But I can’t say I’m not into it.”
Looking up from her notebook, Elain flushed with a laugh. “Well, it definitely helps that I’m pretty.”
Lucien grinned. “It absolutely helps.”
She fought back a grin but failed when he shot her a knowing look. “You flatter me, sir.” she said sweetly. “All I’m trying to do is write me a good ‘ole fashion mafia romance. I can’t help what kind of questions emerge to get inspiration.”
“Mafia romance, huh?” he asked and leaned in, a finger tracing the rim of his glass, and Elain’s eyes immediately followed the movement. “What kind of inspiration are you looking for then?”
This made Elain pause and watch him silently for a moment. She couldn’t exactly just blurt out that she wanted him to fuck her so hard she saw stars. To manhandle her just a little bit. 
Her eyes flickered to his very nice, very big hands then back to his face. 
That would be weird. She took a sip of her drink.
“Well,” she began carefully. “My romances have typically been tamer than what this one is but the market is really seeing an increase of love for more…intimate romances. I want to give it a shot.”
Lucien’s brows rose and Elain watched as a shit-eating grin formed on his face. “Is that so?”
“Yes.” she said slowly. “You see…I’ve only had minimal experience in that department.”
His brows rose. “Impossible.”
Elain nodded somewhat sadly. “Unfortunately, yes.”
“What kind of men have you been seeing?” he asked in such an offended tone, Elain flushed.
“Well. It was one guy.” she replied. “And he was more boy than man.”
Lucien’s face blanked and it took him a moment to speak. “Do you mind sharing his name? And home address?” he said calmly. “Asking for a friend.”
Elain laughed. “And you say you’re not a mobster?” she said and Lucien had the audacity to shrug with a small smile. “But no need. My sisters and their partners gave him enough grief. I’m pretty sure he has a restraining order against us.”
“If he had you and put you in a position where you have to look for inspiration elsewhere, he needs a good thrashing.” he replied. “Please, let me speak to my associates about him.”
Elain bit back a grin. “Your associates.”
“Gotta check with the big guy before we order a hit.” he said, having no issues grinning widely and Elain couldn’t help the hearty laugh that escaped her. 
“Well now, that’s very nice of you to offer.” she replied then paused before Elain gave him a coy smile. “But it’s not really the area I need inspiration for.”
He watched her silently for a moment and even as she felt her cheeks flush, Elain kept her gaze locked on his, watching as his eyes darkened. Then a slow smirk blessed his beautiful face.
“So if you don’t want me to use my associates to give someone a good thrashing,” he asked quietly. “How can I help you with your inspiration, Elain?”
Elain bit her lip, cataloging every detail of his toned body seating opposite her, every article of clothing, and every inch of his handsome face. Was she bold enough to tell him exactly what she wanted from him? Was it safe? Or was she being insane?
“Cat got your tongue?” he said, his voice low. “Or are you just trying to find a good way to ask me to fuck you senseless?”
Elain straightened and clenched her thighs together as she gaped at him. He clocked the movement and his smirk widened.
Letting out a chuckle, he took a sip of his drink and Elain watched him swallow, thinking about how she’d really like to lick his neck. 
“All you have to do is ask, love.” he continued. “I wasn’t planning on going home with a beautiful girl tonight but I am more than happy to change those plans.”
Elain watched him carefully. Did she? Should she?
“Well.” she stated and cleared her throat delicately. “What were your plans then? Being alone in this bar on a Wednesday night? One would think you’re up to no good.”
“I’m an angel.” he said in that low tone that told her he was anything but.
“Sounds like a sweet, sweet lie.”
He laughed. “Can’t a mafia man blow off some steam in a bar once in a while?” he said with a shrug and Elain rolled her eyes with a smile. 
“So just letting off some steam?”
“Yes. But I’m happy to find myself doing other things instead.”
Elain tapped her glass, her heart beating wildly as she watched him watch her. Good lord, she was already sweating. Was it because she was sex-deprived? Was it all the mafia and smutty books she’d been reading lately for inspiration that was getting to her? She was really going to ask this strange beautiful man to fuck her. 
Granted, he seemed eager. Which was great for her ego but…
“I want to be very clear about something.” she finally said. 
“Yes?” he asked with a raised brow and cocky grin. 
“This is all in the name of research.” she declared. “And research only.”
“Of course.” he said. “I’ve gone home with pretty girls for much less noble causes.”
Elain’s lips twitched. “And you’ll need to sign an NDA.”
His brows shot up. “An NDA?” he said. “How very Christian Grey of you to have me sign a contract.”
“To protect myself and you.” she said simply. “I can’t have you running around telling people I was propositioning you.”
“Isn’t that what you’re doing?” he said with a smirk.
“Need I remind you that you asked me how you could help me?” she said with her own little smirk. 
He hummed and Elain smiled.
“If I never mentioned I was a writer and looking for inspiration, would you still want to take me home?” she asked boldly. It wasn’t like she could embarrass herself further at this point. “Be honest, my feelings won’t get hurt if you say no.”
“Elain,” he began and her heart thumped at the curve of his lips when he said her name. “Bold of you to assume I wouldn’t have already had you in my home doing unspeakably delicious things to you.”
She flushed in delight. She couldn’t help it. Elain knew she was pretty but after her horrible breakup and the way Graysen had broken down her confidence in herself, it was nice to hear it. 
Also, she really needed to write that line down.
“Anyone ever tell you, you have a way with words?” she asked and he grinned.
“A high compliment from a writer.” he replied. “But I also have a question for you.”
“Yes?”
“We could've just flirted, went home together, and had a great time without you telling me about the writing part.” he said, his finger tapping against the glass. “Why tell me?”
Elain’s brows furrowed. “Because you have a right to know. I like being honest about these things.” she said. “Granted, as a writer, anything I hear or see is up for use as inspiration.”
He hummed softly, watching her. “Have you written about your ex?”
She flushed, frowning slightly. “Only once but shitty ex-boyfriends are common in romance reads.” she replied then shrugged. “And it was more about the way my character felt than about her crappy ex.”
Lucien nodded sagely. “Understandable.” 
Elain straightened suddenly. “Has this weirded you out?” she asked and blinked at him with wide eyes. “I usually curb my weirdness to close friends and family only, I just haven’t interacted with a real man like this in a while.”
“A real man?” he asked, amusement lacing his tone and Elain promptly wanted to die.
“I mean — “ she started with a flush, taking a quick sip of her drink. “I’m a writer and reader. I spent a lot of time with fictional men.”
“Ah. And those are infinitely better than real men, I take it?”
She gave him a small smile. “Most of the time.”
It fell silent between them and Elain watched him as he watched her. Now that she’d finally stopped talking, embarrassment was slowly starting to catch up to her. She had fought with herself tooth and nail to not feel bad about herself and her quirky personality but at times like this, it crept up. When she forgot herself and forgot that not everyone liked her as she was.
Graysen had ridiculed her so much about her writing. Once he had gotten to know her, he pretty much ridiculed everything she did but especially her writing. Anytime she’d ask him a question or about his thoughts, he never had anything nice to say. He always laughed at her and her silly little ideas.
“Stick to your plants, it’s what you’re good at.” he had sneered at her when she had first told him she’d written a book. Elain had been so excited to share. It had been so hard to keep it a secret from everyone but he had only given her an unimpressed look and said, “Isn’t Nesta the one into books? Keep to your own thing, Elain.”
Maybe she’d gotten carried away in this little game. Elain had only wanted to have a little fun. She could use her imagination and Pinterest and other books for inspiration. She didn’t need to keep embarrassing herself. This was weird. Sure, she wanted to have some of that good sex that everyone else keeps talking about for once but she could probably do it without all this. She could’ve just gone with him without saying a single thing and —
“Show me the NDA.”
Elain blinked, focusing back at the very handsome man across from her. “What?”
He gave her a simple smile. “Either you’re overthinking this really hard or…your mind went down the gutter faster than mine did.” he said. “And if it’s the latter, I assure you, my gutter is much, much worse.”
Elain’s cheeks heated. “Big words for a mafia man that’s not a mafia man.” she said with a small chuckle.
Lucien’s lips curled into a smirk. “Elain.” he started. “The moment you sat across from me with your pretty face and pretty dress, I knew we would have a good time together.” She watched as his finger tapped the side of his glass and then met his gaze. “You seem like the kind of girl who likes being told what to do but doesn’t know it yet.” He leaned forward and her breath hitched. “Lucky for you, I love telling people what to do. Especially in my bedroom.”
His hand left his glass and instead of letting his finger trace the rim of his glass, it was now lightly tracing Elain’s hand.
“And to answer your earlier question, I am not weirded out.” he said, the corner of his mouth lifting. “I find you and this entire conversation fascinating.”
Elain blinked, her gaze on his hand touching hers and she wondered if one could orgasm from hand touching alone. “Right.”
“You’re clearly passionate about what you do.” he said in that charming voice of his, gently turning over her hand so that his fingers could slide across her palm to her wrist and settle on the pulse point.
“Very passionate.” she said quietly, her eyes still on his long, beautiful fingers.
“Then give me the NDA. So I can sign it and take you home.” Lucien continued. “Where I can fuck you the way you deserve.”
Elain’s head shot up and she met his eyes. “That’s awfully straightforward of you.”
“Just as straightforward as you aimed to be, I imagine.”
She finally remembered herself and shrugged, a coy smile blooming on her face. “I just came here to look for inspiration.”
Lucien flattened his hand over hers and Elain flushed at the way her hand was dwarfed beneath his. “I daresay, I can help you with that.”
She swallowed. “And how are you so sure of that?”
Lucien glanced at her for a moment then slowly slid off his barstool to stand before her. He towered over her slightly and Elain relished in the way he stood so close. His hand left hers and instead, his fingers found their way to gently lift her chin to meet his gaze.
“I’m sure of that because,” he began quietly and leaned closer until he was a breath away from her lips. “I felt your pulse jump when I touched you.” His hand slid from her jaw down the column of her neck. “I feel it in the way you swallow.” That same hand cupped the back of her neck and Elain shuddered beneath his gaze and touch. “And I guarantee if I slid my hand beneath your little black dress, between those lovely thighs, I’d find something hot and wet waiting for me.”
Elain’s lips parted in surprise, her skin hot all over. His words had slid across her skin and down her spine and good lord, if he only knew how soaked she’d become. Gooseflesh erupted on her skin when his thumb traced the column of her neck and she tried not to be too obvious inhaling the scent of him. 
“What do you think of that, Elain?” he said with a devilish smile that she knew would be impossible to describe because it was distinctly him. This stranger she met in a bar. This stranger that felt like no stranger at all.
She was thinking she wanted him to lay her right here across this bar and have his way with her. Elain was thinking she’d probably let him do things to her she never thought she’d let a man do. Except for this one. Because Lucien sure as hell seemed like the type to want to do those things to her. 
“I’m thinking,” she began and swallowed, her skin heating at the smirk he gave her. “That I’d really like you to kiss me.”
“It’s a good thing you mentioned that,” he replied quietly. “Because I’ve been dying to smear that lipstick.”
With the hand holding her neck, Lucien tugged her forward and devoured her. Elain whimpered against him, against his surprisingly soft lips as he kissed her, his kiss bruising — hard — a claiming and she let him claim her. Her hands found their way to his suspenders and she tugged him closer, her grip tightening when his free hand cupped the back of her head and his other hand slid to trace the column of her neck again. When she felt his tongue, Elain eagerly opened for him and Lucien stole kisses as he stole her breath. He kissed her, his mouth nipping, biting, and imprinting his lips on hers. And when Elain had fully melted against him, fully surrendered to his mouth and tongue and hands, when he had her gripping his suspenders tightly enough that her knuckles had turned white, did Lucien finally pull away.
He most definitely had smeared her lipstick, she thought as she glanced at him in a slight daze. Half of her lipstick was on his lips. He had the audacity to grin wickedly at her.
“Now that I’ve satisfied your request, should we be on our way?” he asked calmly as if he hadn’t just scrambled her brains with that kiss. She hadn’t been kissed like that since — since well, since ever. 
Elain blinked, catching her breath, her hands still clutching him tightly. She wanted to let go, she really knew she should but the feeling of his body beneath those suspenders caused her to shudder.
“I need to take a picture of your face.” she finally said. “For my sisters.”
He smiled, his hands smoothing her hair back. “Would you like me to grab your phone? Your hands seem a little occupied.”
She flushed and aimed to let go when his hands settled over hers. “Don’t let go just yet.” he said quietly. “I like your hands there.”
If possible, her flush deepened. And, oh she was feeling a lot of things at the moment. She kept her hands where they were and said somewhat hoarsely, “My phone is in my purse.”
Lucien’s lips twitched and he moved a hand to slip inside her purse, the other still covering the hand locked on his suspenders. He held up her phone to unlock it with the Face ID then glanced at the screen, his face lit up in amusement. 
“I assume the group chat titled Morons is the one you’ll be sending my picture to.” he said, his thumb stroking the back of her hand still holding on to him. 
Finally shaken out of her stupor, Elain cleared her throat and licked her lips. Her lips that still tingled just a little from the force of his lips on hers. She flushed and suppressed a giggle. “Yes.” she said and released one suspender, leaving her other hand happily held hostage beneath his. “It’s my sisters and my brothers-in-law.” 
“Let’s take a selfie then, shall we?” he teased and Elain pursed her lips, willing herself not to smile. Or launch herself at him again. 
He turned his back to her, and kept her hand locked beneath his so it looked like Elain was hugging him from the side. Raising the phone, Lucien grinned and Elain couldn’t help her own smile at the camera. Snapping the photo, the two inspected it together and Elain laughed at the clear evidence of their make out.
“Oh, they’re going to have a hoot with this.” she mumbled. “Send it.” 
Lucien tugged her into him closer so that she hugged his back and he glanced over his shoulder at her. “You okay with me opening your group chat?”
She would be okay with him opening anything, but most especially her legs. Rather than embarrass herself further by saying that, she only nodded and watched him open the text chain, chuckle, then attach the image and send it.
Elain: *attached image* Found my mafia man ;)
“I didn’t say that.” she objected and Lucien twisted to face her with a knowing look. 
“You were absolutely going to text that.”
She was. But she wouldn’t admit it. Squinting at him, she opened her mouth to respond when her phone pinged and Lucien arched a brow.
“Do you want me to open that?”
“Nope.” she said quickly as several pings followed. “They can’t be trusted to behave themselves.” Finally, tugging herself away from him, she held out her hand for her phone. “Especially with how many texts are coming in, these assholes could be saying anything.”
“Well, it hardly seems fair that I can’t read what’s being said about me.” 
“I think we can find other ways to fill our time.” she said and instantly felt the shift in him.
“Ah, yes.” he said quietly. “Your research.”
“Yes. My — research.”
Lucien chuckled lightly and Elain watched as he glanced at her, his thumb coming up to gently graze her cheek. “Are you having second thoughts? Do you need me to kiss you again?”
Her cheeks heated as she watched his expression. She was very nearly ready to have him take her right then and there. “No second thoughts but I definitely, definitely think you should kiss me again.”
“And where would you like me to kiss you, my lady?” he asked, his voice dropping low and Elain had to swallow hard. She was past embarrassment at this point. She wanted to feel and be seen and touched. And god damn did she want this man between her legs in whatever way he was willing to be.
“Everywhere.” she answered. “I want you to kiss me everywhere.”
Lucien’s grin was wolfish at her response. “Well, aren’t you such a good girl.” he said in that voice she would have a grand time describing. “You gave me the exact answer I wanted to hear.”
morons<3
Feyre: Oh…oh wow Elain.
Nesta: Well that was fast.
Cassian: YOOOOOO
Cassian: RHYSSSSSS
Rhys: yo isn’t that Spell-Cleaver?
Cassian: iT’S FUCKEN LUCIEN
Cassian: love that guy he’s hilarious
Rhys: Holy shit it is Lucien
Feyre: You guys know him???? Feyre: Is he a normal person???
Nesta: He already has her lipstick on him. Nesta: Is she going to be safe with him?
Rhys: Oh yeah. He’s a good dude. Rhys: I remember him from uni days Rhys: We did business with his company a while back too. Straight forward, cool guy. 
Cassian: We see him in Az’s bar sometimes.  Cassian: But yo. Wasn’t he like, a hoe in college? Cassian: Elain is about to get her world rocked.
Nesta: CASSIAN.
Feyre: Cassian no.
Cassian: WHAT.  Cassian: I’m just saying based on the rumors we heard 
Rhys: Elain is def going to have a good time.
Cassian: Lulu is foxy in bed
Rhys: Gentleman on the streets
Cassian: freak in the sheets. Cassian:: AYYYYY
Rhys: AYYYYY
Feyre: I hate you both.
Nesta: I’m going to stab both of you in the throat the next time I see you.
Cassian: *smirk emoji* *heart emoji*
Nesta: *knife emoji*
Feyre: At least he’s hot. He really does give off mob vibes with that scar.
Rhys: You can’t say that Feyre darling. I’m right here.
Feyre: *middle finger emoji*
Nesta: I wonder if he’d be willing to be on the cover if he shows Elain a good time.
Feyre: I think so. He so willingly took the picture and gave his full name.
Nesta: He is attractive. His face would sell it. Nesta: Feyre. Nesta: FEYRE. Nesta: Her hand. Look at where her hand is.
Feyre: Oh…OKAY ELAIN.  Feyre: I like that he’s wearing suspenders. That’s attractive.
Rhys: Cassian. My feels are hurt bro.
Cassian: my feels are hurt too bro. they’re just ignoring us.
Feyre: Nes, take out tomorrow for deets?
Nesta: Yes, I want Chinese while grilling her.
Rhys: I’ll bring the drinks.
Nesta: You’re not invited. 
Cassian: Can you order me the dumplings?
Feyre: You’re also not invited.
Nesta: Sisters only. *X emoji* Nesta: I’ll bring us those nice face masks.
Cassian: I want a face mask.
Feyre: no<3
Rhys: But I love me a good face mask too.
Nesta: No. *middle finger emoji*
Cassian: Nes, if I let you peg me, can I come for face masks and chinese?
Nesta: for fucks sake cassian.
Rhys: HAHA
Feyre: god damn it Cassian
Rhys: I mean, Feyre darling if that’s what gets me a face mask and the tea…*smirk emoji*
Nesta: you’re both disgusting.
Feyre: *eyes roll emoji* No. Feyre: unless? *side eye emoji*
Nesta: FEYRE
Elain had finally stumbled home the following afternoon after being fucked six ways to Sunday and she found her sisters waiting for her with face masks, food, and wide eyes. Elain only grinned sheepishly and slumped against her door.
“I’m glad you’re alive.” Nesta said dryly and Elain waved her off with a hand, her grin wide on her face.
“That good, huh?” Feyre asked with her own grin.
“Yes.” she breathed, still thinking about Lucien and what he had done to her. At the way he had kissed her and touched her and fucked her. It hadn’t been good. It had been great.
Elain couldn’t remember a time she had been so enthusiastic to have someone fuck her. Then again, she had had only one partner and even in her fantasies, it hadn’t been like that. Elain bit her lip as a blush bloomed on her cheeks, her mind drifting back to a night like nothing she’d ever experienced before…
~
“I’m going to take, and take, and take from you, Elain.” he had whispered in her ear darkly. “And then my god am I going to give you. You understand?”
“Yes.”
“You’re going to be a good girl for me?” he had asked her while his hands caressed her bare skin. “Will you be the best girl for me? Because if you are, I’m going to make you come so hard you’ll see stars.”
“I’ll be the best girl.” she whispered and shuddered when his lips had kissed and licked their way down her neck, to her collarbones, and then to her exposed breasts. Her hands had come up to immediately cover them, flushing lightly as he looked up at her, quirking a brow in question.
“They’re — they’re small.” she said and Lucien shot her a look so disapproving, she thought he’d spank her. 
He had spanked her later on but at that moment, his hands had cupped one gently, and giving her one last look, his mouth descended on the other. Elain’s moans were breathy as he sucked and squeezed her breasts, switching between the two. He had only pulled away to ask her in a husky voice, “You like my mouth right here? Because I love these pretty little things so much.”
A strangled cry was the only reply she could give when he bit down on one gently and squeezed the other. Then switched and did it again. The sound that came out of her mouth had him pulling away with a smirk.
“Such sounds coming out of that lovely mouth.” he whispered, kissing the valley between her breasts. “You’re going to take my cock in your pretty little pussy and come when I tell you to?” he asked softly, sliding his hands up and smoothing back her hair. “Because I want to fuck you very, very hard, Elain. May I do that, please?”
She knew he could feel the wetness that pooled between her legs at the words and resisted the urge to arch against him. “I’ll take whatever you want to give me.” she breathed.
“You’re just an angel, aren’t you?” he whispered and left a light kiss on her lips. “So ready for me to use you and then take care of you. You want me to take care of you?”
“Please.” she nearly begged. “Please take care of me.”
“Then spread your legs a little wider for me, love. Let me see you in all your glory.”
And take care of her he had. 
It was like Lucien was made for Elain and Elain was made for Lucien.
After he had worshipped her between her legs, he lined himself up to her entrance with her legs around his waist, and Lucien watched her face as he slid into her the first time. And that moment, the moment he had filled her up to the hilt…Lucien knew this was different. Elain knew she wouldn’t be the same. The way he fit her had Elain never wanting to be without his cock again. And by the gods, had she wanted to feel how he fit her without a condom and have his come spill out of her.
Which would be insane of course, considering they had only met that evening. But these feelings, these intense emotions. Oh, she had all the inspiration she needed. 
It had only gotten better from there. He had flipped her over and feasted on her again before taking her hard and fast from behind. 
Elain never thought she’d be the kind of girl who enjoyed her face being pushed into the mattress like that but when it was Lucien’s hands holding her and his cock fucking her, she found she liked it a little too much.
And she also found that she liked it even more when he talked to her. In between their rigorous activities, they took breaks to chat and get to know the person they were baring themselves to. 
Elain found she liked Lucien and the way his mind worked a lot. Lucien found he felt the same about Elain.
And then Elain found she really wanted to suck the cock that made her feel so good. She had crawled toward him on his bed and draped herself across his legs, blinking up at him innocently.
“I want to make you feel good too.” she had whispered and Lucien had smiled at her, brushing her hair to the side.
“And how do you want to do that?”
“By taking you in my mouth.”
“No, you need to phrase that better, love.” he commanded softly, his thumb sliding across her bottom lip. “How do you want to make me feel good?”
“By sucking your cock.” she answered breathlessly. “I want you to come in my mouth.”
“It’s a good thing I want to come in your mouth too, princess.” he replied and then sat back, a king on his throne of a bed. “Show me what a good girl can do with that pretty mouth.”
And Elain certainly had, savoring the way he swore, the way his hands had tightened in her hair, and the way he barely held it together while her tongue played with him, especially as her own wetness dripped down her legs. Lucien had spilled in her mouth with such intensity, come had spilled down the sides of her mouth. She had swallowed as much as she could, like the good girl she wanted to be for him and Lucien’s grin had been feral at the sight.
Shortly after, he had spread her legs and returned the favor with his mouth and fingers then flipped her over and took her from behind a second time, pulling her up, his fist wrapped around her hair. “Look at your pretty swollen cunt, flower.” he had growled in her ear as she whined and panted to the rhythm of his thrusts. “You’re doing so good. It’s a perfect fit for my cock.”
“Please.” she had begged. As if he hadn’t been giving her everything she wanted and more. 
Lucky for Elain, Lucien had wanted to keep giving and taking. It was well in the AM that Elain had been fucked in every corner of his bedroom. She had come riding his dick and his face and his cock again, flopping rather unattractively on his bed with a little whimper after what she thought was the final fucking.
He had chuckled, his hands gently caressed her back and Lucien had paused for just a moment then smacked her plump little ass firmly. He had given her just one moment of reprieve then — a ragged cry escaped her lips as he pulled her hips back towards him, pulling her ass up the way he wanted. “I’m sorry, flower. I thought we were done but then your pretty little pussy —” he started as his hands slid to play with her and Elain couldn’t help the rocking of her hips against his fingers. Or the little needy moan that escaped her lips at how sensitive she was. “ — looks like it needs my cock one more time.” He had whispered and pulled his hand away so he squeezed her ass instead and slid it soothingly up her spine, his other hand fisting his cock slowly. “I love my hand on your throat,” he continued in his ear, and she shuddered against him. “But I love your face pressed in my sheets and the sweet, sweet sounds you make. What would you like?”
Elain had only arched her hips further for him and turned her head to meet his gaze. “Whatever you want to do.” she breathed. “I’m all yours.”
With a wolfish grin, Lucien had pulled her lips to his for a searing kiss and thrust into her to the hilt once more. He had told her she had one more orgasm in her and just like a good little girl, she obliged. 
Elain hadn’t remembered her name or anything about herself for the rest of that night. She only knew that she was in the arms of a man who had her body trembling in need and pleasure. Pleasure he had given her all night, pleasure he had given her the morning after he had made her breakfast, and pleasure he had given her right until he sent her home.
She had kissed him goodbye, her hand on the doorknob when his hand had slid up her dress and he had pushed her panties to the side, rubbing his fingers in the wetness of her heated center. He thrust two fingers inside her with a pleased hum.
“One more time before you go.” He had whispered in her ear as she braced herself against his door and rocked her hips to match the thrust of his fingers. “So I can savor your taste until I get you to myself again.”
She had made a desperate, filthy little noise as he played with her and pumped his fingers into her. He had whispered such dirty things in her ear and Elain had slumped against the door as she came with a choked cry. Lucien had only chuckled when he pulled away, his eyes locked on hers as he licked his fingers clean. 
Elain had left his house on shaking legs and her legs nearly started shaking again just reliving the memories.
“Well, shit. He must’ve really rocked your world.” Feyre said with a cackle and Elain blinked, her blush deepening as she finally remembered she was back at her apartment with her sisters waiting on her. Waiting on her to explain and not on her knees in front of Lucien and letting him do whatever he wanted to her.
Her sisters shared a look, both clearly holding back more laughs but Elain…well, she knew she had gotten all the inspiration she needed. Inspiration and maybe…maybe something more.
“Are you seeing him again?” Nesta asked, quirking a brow.
“For dinner tomorrow night.” she whispered. “And then for a date he’s planning the day after.”
“And more fucking, I presume?” Feyre asked, her lips twitching.
“Definitely more fucking.” Nesta added on with a snort at Elain’s flushed face.
“If I’m lucky.” was Elain’s reply and she straightened, feeling the effects of Lucien everywhere. “And I think I’m going to be very, very lucky.”
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dykeseinfeld · 3 years
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u asked someone to remind you to post about your pjo dual protagonist thalia/bianca au and i am SO intrigued by this idea please say more
anon asked: hey queen hope your homework went good yesterday 🌸…now what were you saying about thalia and bianca 😳 ?
ok y’all i’m here...the moment almost none of y’all have been waiting for....bianca/thalia protagonists with alternating pov’s au
warning it’s kind of super long and may or may not read like a 2nd grader’s semi-coherent game of pretend so under the cut it goes!
so the main things you need to know about this au are 1. thalia survives and 2. annabeth’s + luke’s ages are a lil diff bc canon is my sandbox 3. i can’t decide if percy exists in this au or not (maybe y’all can help me decide?)
so the first book:
would start a few months after grover brought thalia (12), luke (13), and annabeth (10, not 7)  to camp half blood. they were chased by monsters sent by hades on the way, and thalia almost didn’t survive, but ultimately she got lucky and managed to send a bolt of lightning through her spear for the first time and they made it into camp
it’s been some time so annabeth is happy as a clam in the athena cabin doing her 10-year-old-with-severe-mommy-issues thing and luke is actually pretty popular with the hermes cabin bc he actually Met Their Dad Holy Shit and also he’s getting pretty good with a sword
at the same time, thalia is alone in the zeus cabin. everyone has been freaking out bc they all saw the huge bolt of lightning that incinerated a couple hellhounds as they made their grand entrance and What The Fuck Child Of The Big Three???
she’s also further isolated because chiron will take her for private training sessions sometimes, since she is clearly really powerful already and also Hades Himself was trying to kill her (chiron told her the reason was the big three’s pledge not to have kids, and maybe about the great prophecy? if he tells her that then she’s sworn to secrecy)
once grover leaves on another protector assignment, thalia mostly hangs out with luke, and annabeth. luke + annabeth both will try to eat meals with her at the zeus table but annabeth doesn’t want to get in trouble and luke is genuinely making friends in the hermes cabin so thalia will feel bad sometimes and send him back
kronos, seeing this bitter isolated child of the big three’s dreams: it’s free real estate
MEANWHILE
hades is Pissed that thalia survived and zeus got to break their oath And get the glory of a prophecy child
so he sends someone to take bianca (12) and nico (10) out of the lotus hotel and casino a little early.
grover is still their protector, but since the Stirring hasn’t begun in earnest yet and hades is lowkey determined to keep them safe, they make it back to camp half blood with no escort/incident
bianca + nico are put into the hermes cabin, and luke kinda takes them under his wing bc while he’s not bitter he still needs therapy bc this 14 year old has never met a pre-teen he couldn’t try to parent
luke introduces nico and annabeth since they’re the same age and they become really good friends!! she Loves mythomagic and he thinks her dagger is super cool and they’re both just really excited about camp <3
bianca is more reserved and resistant to the whole thing, and she wanders around alone exploring and runs into thalia in the zeus cabin
at this first meeting they get into a bit of a fight bc bianca is still in shock/denial about the gods being real, but thalia at this point has zero patience for this
anyway after that and maybe another scuffle during capture the flag or something they hit it off and become best friends in the way girls can, especially bonding over how they’ve both had to take on raising annabeth and nico basically on their own at the age of 12
~QUEST TIME~
thalia is given a quest for [unspecific reason] and chooses bianca and luke, they go off leaving annabeth and nico frustrated at home
quest hijinks etc, bianca is trying to figure out her parentage + her weird mysterious powers? and thalia is arguing with luke because he’s settling into camp/hero life really well actually but she’s getting progressively angrier with the gods for trying to kill her and also keeps getting dreams from kronos and doesn’t get why he doesn’t seem to remember all of the shit that the gods have put him through
bianca + thalia have las-vegas-style-heart-to-hearts where thalia shares her tragic backstory about her mother and her brother and how hades tried to kill her and even about the great prophecy and how she’s trying on this quest bc of that and her dad but at the same time these dreams are making her suspicious that he might’ve been responsible for her mom’s death.
bianca then shares her own stuff, about how terrified she was being on her own with nico having to protect him but also not remembering most of her childhood and not remembering her parents or how she ended up in the care of this lawyer and just the absolute mindfuckery that her memories/past are
luke is asleep in those scenes i guess lol 🧍‍♂️
anyway eventually they finish their quest in this massive climactic battle where bianca discovers her powers in a huge-showy-”i’m the ghost prince”-way and is formally claimed by hades which thalia sees as this Massive Betrayal obviously and bianca is horrified too because she knows what hades did to thalia but at the same time she’s just so happy to finally understand at least part of her past
thalia just reaches a breaking point though because everyone around her just doesn’t understand her anger and just when she thought she had found another sympathetic person who understood what she was going through she joins hades??? no. no fucking way. kronos reveals that he’s the one who has been sending her dreams, prob by sending some messenger who he possesses or smthing and when he offers thalia the chance to join him? she does (dun dun dun)
main beats of the rest of the series:
thalia and bianca on opposite sides of the war training to be the prophecy child, they come together a Lot and have like melodramatic fight scenes where they talk out their anger and try to get the other to join them bc they don’t want to kill each other
luke is extremely conflicted/betrayed and there’s a titan’s curse moment prob towards the end of the third book where they’re fighting and thalia is trying to get her to go with him but here he actually does go to join her (gasp!!) and is evil for at least one book but his heart’s not in it and he goes back to the good side eventually
by the point of luke’s betrayal, annabeth and nico are growing and developing and old enough to go on quests w bianca and by the last book they’re a main trio of sorts and their hypothetical character development is already making me emotional
there’s just a lot of general sexiness with foils and inner conflicts and bianca doesn’t even want to be the prophecy child but she needs to for the fate of the world and bianca is so angry at thalia bc thalia is a daughter of zeus and could control her powers and is perfect and just meant to be the prophecy kid, not some daughter of hades who they didn’t even have a cabin for before
hm maybe by either the last or second-to-last book thalia + bianca are close to reconciling or at least their interests are aligned for the moment and they read the text of the prophecy together and things go Wild bc they both think “single choice shall end his days” either is about luke or nico and it turns up the gas to their fighting both of them care about both of them and yeah
and then i can’t decide if there’s romantic arcs at all but if there were it would go like this:
just a dash of thaluke where at first it was luke having a one-sided crush but thalia misses him a Lot after she goes to kronos and wonders if it’s that she misses him or if it’s something More until to get him to defect there’s like a melodramatic moment in the fight where thalia kisses him and they go off to be Evil Together but it ends bc luke doesn’t believe in the cause and only joined her in hopes of getting thalia back to his side
once luke leaves/is kicked out thalia realizes that she didn’t love luke she just wanted a family and also in the second half of the series she realizes she’s a lesbian as a parallel to her redemption arc
bianca meanwhile is unconcerned w romance until she has her botl-hoe-moment where within one book she 1. runs into the hunters on a quest and has a thing with zoe nightshade who tries to get her to join plus tells her about that time she met thalia, 2. she goes to calypso’s island and falls in love w her in the moonlight or w/e and has her what-if moment, and 3. when they meet up that book thalia somehow knew abt zoe + calypso and seems almost angrier abt them  than the war?? weird bc bianca knows that thalia is Totally Straight right??
my main point is that bianca/thalia is our friends-to-enemies-to-lovers endgame thank you i will take my pulitzer now
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limitlessimagines · 2 years
Note
how do you think the agents would fix up a hot chocolate? (or just holiday food/desserts in general?)
Astra: chili and orange zest. The orange gives it a bit of a tropical taste, while the chili powder adds a tiny bit of heat.
Breach: white chocolate hot chocolate. He has a sweet tooth and doesn’t mind indulging in something so heavy.
Brimstone: Brim adds a smidge of maple syrup. He used to live near a maple syrup farm/sugar bush at his childhood home, and his mother would add a bit of maple syrup to his hot chocolate
Chamber: hot chocolate with a splash of espresso. He’s a coffee snob, and drinks it daily. He has coffee in his blood most likely.
Cypher: prefers a bit of spice in his hot chocolate. He has it dark, with an addition of ginger and nutmeg.
Jett: salted vanilla. That’s right. A dash of vanilla powder and a sprinkle of sea salt. Her cooking chops are showing.
KAY/O: he doesn’t drink hot chocolate. But he does prefer his oil warm! Jk
Killjoy: she keeps it simple and uses the powdered stuff from a tin. She doesn’t really have time to add anything to it, and likes the taste straight away.
Neon: she adds a spoonful of dulce de leche over her already sweet hot chocolate. She has a bit of a sweet tooth but she keeps it in check because she hates the dentist (and the dentist hates her… for shocking him with his own tools. It was an accident…)
Omen: Cinnamon sticks. He uses it to stir until it seems right, then he’ll sip it throughout the day.
Phoenix: oreo hot chocolate! Is it nasty? From an outside point of view, sure. You just don’t get it. Phoenix’s mom made it for him when he was a kid, and he continues to make it for himself as a young adult.
Raze: regular hot chocolate but with the addition of many marshmallows and whipped cream. And with different flavours. She’s actually really good at making little foam marshmallow animals over her cup.
Reyna: she spikes her hot chocolate with some booze. As a treat.
Sage: she chops a few mint leaves and adds them to her brew. The fresh taste gives it a lot of flavour.
Skye: matcha honey hot chocolate. It’s green, and earthy. She makes it on a rainy day.
Sova: hot chocolate is a bit too sweet for him. His taste buds prefer more bland tastes. If he’s feeling it though, he might add a bit of vanilla bean. Just a bit.
Viper: dark chocolate hot chocolate. She prefers the slight bitter taste to something overly sweet, like milk chocolate
Yoru: you know how Japanese companies will make a million different flavours for one thing. Okay, so Yoru likes collecting them. He has dozens of different hot chocolate packets in many different flavours. Tea, coffee, candy, other types of chocolates, spices, you name it, it’s probably there.
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din-jarhead · 3 years
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Mama in a Sundress (drabble)
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Pairing: Frankie Morales x pregnant f!reader
Warnings: none really, this the fluffiest fluff and the littlest dash of spice (kissing, allusion to sexy times), a smidge of body insecurity and mentions of pregnancy symptoms
Word count: 696
A/N: I was listening to the song “Sundress” by Zoo Culture today and it gave me this idea for a lil fluff with papa Frankie. Sorry to my new followers that it’s been a hot minute since I posted anything but I hope you enjoy this, and pretty please send requests if you want to, it would make me happy!
It’s one of those perfect summer days when it’s not too hot, and sunny enough to sit outside with some lemonade, which is exactly what you and Frankie are doing.
You had been feeling like absolute garbage for the past few weeks, being right at the end of your first trimester of your first pregnancy and dealing with morning sickness, fatigue, and all the other terrible symptoms you couldn’t wait to be done with.
But today, you suddenly felt energized and comfortable in your body which had been changing so much in ways you sometimes didn’t like.
Your back wasn’t hurting, your nausea had thus far not flared up, and instead of feeling like a bloated mess you started feeling like the glowing goddess Frankie kept telling you he saw.
So, you put on your bright yellow sundress you hadn’t worn yet, which showed off both your larger breasts (which you definitely were appreciating) as well as your bump which was just starting to really show.
Frankie was already outside on your little patio which he had built along with a swing set the weekend after you found out you were pregnant. Despite telling him the kid wouldn’t be using a swing set anytime soon, Frankie had to channel his excited/nervous energy into something, and that something turned into these swings and patio.
He would sit out there often, but you didn’t usually join him because the summer heat made you feel even more terrible, but today was finally the perfect day to enjoy it with him.
You got out your plastic pitcher which you hadn’t used since your last house party, months before you and Frankie had started trying for a baby, and mixed up the lemonade you had been saving in the hopes for a day like this.
With the pitcher and two glasses, opened the door to the back yard, and when Frankie saw you he gasped far too dramatically.
“Could that be my wife finally coming to enjoy the patio her husband so tirelessly built for her?”
You grinned and sarcastically rolled your eyes, sitting at the little metal table and pouring your glasses of lemonade.
“Why yes it is, and she thinks her husband should remember she’s literally building him a person, so maybe we’re even”
“Good point, I’ve been meaning to thank you for that. Why don’t you come over here and let me do that” Frankie holds his hand out for you to come to his side of the table.
You stand, walking over to stand in front of Frankie with your hands on your hips.
He takes your hands into his, holding them out to the sides to look at you. He looks into your eyes and smiles that heart-melting smile of his, before letting his eyes wander down the rest of your body, finally pulling you closer and placing a kiss on your little bump.
Moving his hands to your hips, Frankie returns his gaze to your face, looking at you like you’re the sun.
“You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, cariño” Frankie says before kissing your bump again, then your hands, your wrists, and finally standing to press his lips to yours.
He says “I love you” and “you’re perfect” between kisses, moving from your lips to your jaw, and down your neck.
“I’ll never stop thanking you for carrying our baby, hermosa”
You can’t help but whimper a little at Frankie’s words and actions, especially since being pregnant has made you way too horny for your own good.
“Frankie,” you all but gasp, “if you don’t stop we’re never gonna drink that lemonade”
“Right, can’t keep you from enjoying this beautiful day.”
Frankie gives you one more quick kiss before letting you go and settling back into his chair.
“But after we enjoy this beautiful day, I want to enjoy my beautiful wife.” Frankie licks his lips and raises his eyebrows.
You pull your chair around to his side of the table and turn it so you can drape your legs over Frankie’s lap, and Frankie holds out his glass of lemonade. You clink your glass with his.
“Deal.”
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luci-in-trenchcoats · 3 years
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By My Side (Part 6)
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Summary: The reader and Jensen discuss their relationship moving forward while Jensen learns more about the reader’s family situation. He still has a bad feeling about something though and his gut may prove to be right...
Masterlist
Pairing: Bodyguard!Jensen x reader
Word Count: 5,700ish
Warnings: language, angst, mention of prior suicide attempt, minor violence
A/N: Enjoy!
_________
You woke up to Jensen bundled up in bed, covers tugged to his chin as he sleepily watched you stretching in bed. You giggled at him and his bed head, rolling closer and kissing him good morning.
“That is the most adorable thing I’ve ever seen in my life,” you said.
“Obviously you don’t look at the mirror much,” he said. You smiled and he reached his arm under the covers, putting a hand on your waist. You scooted over, Jensen blinking slowly. “We need to talk about this.”
“Talk about what?” you asked. He bopped your nose and you smiled, tucking down into the sheets. 
“Do you want a relationship?” he asked.
“Do you?”
“It would make my job...difficult.”
“Oh.”
“Not impossible. Just difficult.”
“Is it any more difficult than it was? I mean honestly. What’ll have changed? You still keep me safe and I still hide and run if you say so.”
“That part hasn’t changed. But there is something that has. A wildcard factor. Wildcard factors aren’t great in this job.”
“What’s a wildcard?”
“In a dangerous situation, if we were in a relationship, there’s the potential that you would do something to put yourself in harm’s way to protect me.”
“If that happened, regardless of us being in a relationship, if your ass is on the line, I can’t guarantee I do as told.”
“I don’t like that answer.”
“Jensen, if we do this, you need to trust me. I will do what you tell me when it comes to threats but I can’t say for sure that I won’t try to help you if I can.”
“So if it comes down to it, you’ll do whatever you want in the end.”
“Exactly.”
“If when I’m in bodyguard mode, you do what I say...I will learn to be okay with that very small possibility.”
“Good choice,” you said. You slid a hand around his back and traced up and down his spine, feeling a thin line raised on the skin. “What happened there?”
“Not advised to jump from of a speeding vehicle,” he said. You raised an eyebrow and he chuckled. “I was four wheeling once. Went off trail accidentally. Had to ditch my ride in a hurry. A bit of gravel-”
“Liar,” you said quietly. You smiled and he looked over your head.
“How’d you know?”
“I’m pretty good at knowing when people are acting,” you said. “You get it in combat?”
“Shrapnel got my vest.”
“You’re still lying.”
“It’s not pleasant. I’d rather not...scare you.”
“You don’t scare me,” you said.
“I was held captive once. Very, very briefly. I got a little beat up,” he said. 
“You?” you asked, Jensen nodding, sliding his hand up and playing with the end of your hair. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want.”
“Thanks. I don’t like to talk about that stuff a lot,” he said. 
“If you ever change your mind, I’m a good listener,” you said.
“Thanks,” he said. “You like scrambled eggs?”
“Who doesn’t?” you asked. He smirked and kissed your cheek before he popped out of bed. 
“Well I’m about to blow your mind with the Ackles special,” he said. He walked around the bed and picked up his underwear, turning when he noticed you watching him. You looked him up and down, Jensen laughing to himself. “I saw you checking me out when I was swimming you know.”
You groaned and pulled the sheets over your head. He moved around for a moment and you felt the sheets come down, Jensen leaning over you.
“I had to tease a bit, make sure things were mutual,” he said. 
“Of course you did.” You stretched and yawned, closing your eyes.
“Doing anything fun with your family today?”
“Shopping with my mom will be fun. I’m not the biggest shopper but she likes it. We’ll get lunch, hit a few stores, get a massage after. I think Chuck and the guys are going looking at houses for the boys. Sounds like they might get a place together again.”
“Would you like your brothers to live closer?” he asked. You sat up and held the covers to your chest, Jensen handing you his shirt. You pulled it on over yourself, shrugging as you sat on your knees. “Why do you interact with them if you don’t like them?”
“How long have your parents been married?”
“All my life. Before that,” he said.
“No step siblings, half siblings?”
“My brother and sister share the same parents I do,” he said. “I don’t quite know what it’s like to live in a family like that I guess.”
“My mom went to a very dark place after my dad died. I didn’t know how to fix it. Chuck made her laugh for the first time in six months. He made her smile. He helped her and she helped him too. His wife died earlier on that year. He made her so happy, makes her so happy. I will put up with a few mean step-brothers to never see her go to that place again.”
“I would understand if they resented your mom but it’s you it seems they don’t like.”
“I was the youngest by quite a bit. Chuck would spend time with me. I think the boys were jealous and they probably could have done with more time with their father back then. They’d lost their mom that year too. But I needed him, mom needed him, he was mourning himself...he did the best job he could considering how fucked up we all were. They’re both successful. I just don’t think they liked having a little sister honestly.”
“Sucks for them. Little sisters are cool,” he said with a smile. “My big brother loves to mess with me but he doesn’t treat me the way those two do.”
“Well, even if they move here, I don’t have to hang out with them,” you said. You crawled into his lap and wrapped your arms around his shoulders. “I heard someone’s a little cocky about their scrambled eggs.”
“Oh, wouldn’t you like to know,” he said. He stood up with you before letting you get your feet under you. You pulled on your underwear and followed him downstairs, whistling as you took in his backside. “Y/N…”
“My bodyguard is hot and he should know it,” you said. He shook his head and headed into the kitchen humming to himself as he started to make up some breakfast for the two of you. The doorbell rang and you groaned. “I bet that’s my mom, early as always. I’ll get her out of here.”
“You don’t have to,” he said.
“I plan on doing things to you after breakfast and I do not want her around for that,” you said. He laughed as you padded down the hall and to the front door. You cracked it open a smidge and saw a man in a suit standing there, his back to you. He spun around with a smile and you nodded. “Oh, hi Jake.”
“Good morning!” he said. “I apologize for being late this morning, my car-”
“The meeting,” you said, slapping yourself in the face. “I totally blanked on it.”
“That’s alright. Is now a good time?” he asked. You looked down at yourself and peeked back around the door. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah! It’s perfect, all perfect,” you said.
“You’re not...are you sure-” he said before Jensen was suddenly stepping into view and pushing you behind the door. “Good morning, Mr. Ackles. You uh, appear to be missing most of your clothes.”
“It seems I am,” said Jensen. “Ms. Y/L/N is very well. She would like to reschedule for ten am if that’s possible.”
“Uh…” he said before you rolled your eyes and opened the door all the way. You stared at him and he looked between you both. “Oh. Gotcha. You two…”
“Mhm,” hummed Jensen, crossing his arms.
“Jake would you mind setting up in my office? It’s just down the hall. Jensen and I were about to eat breakfast. We’ll only be fifteen or so minutes,” you said. He stepped inside and you pointed the way, Jensen pouting as you headed back into the kitchen. “Oh, I’m still gonna do things to you. Just tonight, pouty boy.”
“Alright. You told me David was going to be your manager I thought,” he said, going back to the fridge to get the eggs.
“Well I went with Jake. Is that a problem?
“No. I need to be made aware of decisions like that though. I’m going to have to work with him quite a bit for events, your work schedule, that stuff,” he said. 
“I thought you’d be happy. You said you liked him.”
“I do. I am happy. I’m just not happy that you didn’t tell me.”
“He’s been my manager for like a day, calm down,” you said. He put his hands on the counter and you saw him drop his head, his back to you. “Jensen, no evil person is out there looking to snatch me away the second you turn your head. It was one day.”
“In the future, please make me aware of staff changes when they happen?” he asked. He looked back at you, his face softer than you were expecting.
“Okay,” you said. While he whisked some eggs in a bowl, you walked over beside him, watching over his arm. “Looks good.”
“I haven’t even done anything yet,” he chuckled. You rested your head against his arm, Jensen adding in some spices to the mixture. You scooted up on the counter as he went to the stove, watching him scramble them on low, pouring in a dash of cream.
“Can I ask why the Jake thing bothered you?” you said quietly. He scrambled the eggs for a minute before sliding them onto a few plates.
“Because I have a bad feeling that there is someone out there that wants to hurt you and I have nothing to go off of besides a gut feeling and trusting that you’ll be honest with me, always. You didn’t do anything. I overreacted.”
He got out a pair of forks from the drawer, handing you one along with a plate.
“Your gut feelings are normally right?” you asked, taking a bite of the eggs.
“Normally. They were at the restaurant,” he said. You nodded, putting a hand on your arm where a barely there bruise was. “I’m sorry if I hurt you that night.”
“I get hurt worse walking into a wall cause I’m dumb. You had me on the ground before I even knew what was going on and stopped that guy from doing who knows what to everyone. I’m not sorry about that.” He was quiet but gave you a nod. “Your eggs are great. Permission to brag granted.”
“Thanks,” he said, the doorbell ringing again. “I better get dressed. We’re gonna talk about getting a gate at the end of the driveway too by the way.”
“I second that,” you said as you heard the front door open. “Oh my God, my mother, just walks wherever she wants.”
He took off upstairs, ducking down the hall just as she walked into the kitchen.
“Hi mom,” you said. “You are...three hours early.”
“I know, you have work things. I wanted to make you some food you can have for leftovers the next few days. You have hardly any food in your house,” she said.
“Ma, I can barely cook and most of the time, I don’t have the actual time,” you said. She rolled her eyes and you hopped off the counter.
“Well I’m here so might as well,” she said. You glanced up to the balcony and saw Jensen pop into view wearing some jeans and a long sleeve henley. His holster was clipped on under his shirt and you smiled as he came down. “Oh, good morning, Jensen.”
“Mrs. Y/L/N,” he said.
“Any particular reason my daughter is wearing your shirt and no pants?”
“Uh,” he said, opening his mouth when she made a face.
“Two plates of eggs? You think I was born yesterday?”
“No mam. Your observational skills are impressive,” he said. 
“Mom, could you lay off. We like, just started dating,” you said.
“Can you cook?” she asked him.
“A bit,” he said.
“Bodyguard, he can cook and he’s handsome. He’s fine by me,” she said. You put your head in your hands, your mom whacking your shoulder. “You’re so overdramatic. Now get out of my kitchen. We’ll get lunch and shop later. I assume Jensen is coming with us?”
“I would love to spend the day with you ladies but I trust you two will be okay on your own. I’d like to go over some things with Y/N’s new manager if Y/N’s okay with that,” said Jensen.
“You will join us for dinner though, won’t you? We’re going out with Chuck and the boys. Our treat,” she said.
“Mom,” you said, getting a look from her. “Jensen always goes out with me at night, that’s our rule. I’ll pay for his meal.”
“But we’re taking you kids-”
“He is my employee. You don’t-”
“He’s your boyfriend who happens to work for you. I’m paying for his dinner, alright?” she said. You held up your hands and padded out of the kitchen, Jensen following you upstairs. 
“I’m sorry about her,” you said back in your bedroom as you started to pick up last night’s clothes. “She’s-”
“She misses her daughter. She’s happy I’m here. It helps her sleep better at night,” he said. “Told me herself.”
“I love her. I love her to death but I was a kid when my dad died. I know it was hard for her but for six months, until she met Chuck, she acted like I didn’t exist. She likes to forget that sometimes.”
“People grieve differently,” he said. “Still, it wasn’t on you to do that.”
He took the dirty clothes from your hand and cupped your cheek, kissing your temple quickly. 
“Don’t know how anyone could not notice you. Good thing I get paid to stare at you all day,” he smirked. You lightly smacked his chest, Jensen giggling. “As much as it pains me to say it, get that tush dressed. We’ve got a very long meeting with your manager this morning.”
That Afternoon
“What about this one?” asked your mom, holding up a dress.
“You know I hate award shows,” you said.
“I mean for tonight. Or a date with Jensen sometime,” she said. You did your best to keep your face neutral but she caught the slight down turn of your lips. She slammed the dress back on the rack and put her hands on her hips. “What? All morning you have been short with me.”
“Mom I just started dating him like half an hour before you got to the house. You are going way too fast. I have dresses and I honestly wasn’t even going to say anything until it got more serious.”
“You pay him to protect your life. How much serious does it need to get?” she asked. You rolled your eyes and she made a face. “You barely pick up the phone and talk to me anymore.”
“Cause you changed after dad and not in a good way. For a little while, I lost both my parents. Even after Chuck, you two were so involved with each other you didn’t spend as much time as me as you did before dad died. When I was a teenager, when I really needed my mom, you weren’t there all the time. I’m sorry I grew up to be independent. But-”
“Do you think I don’t realize that? I know I made mistakes,” she said. She sighed and took a seat on a bench outside a waiting room. “I just want you to be happy and Jensen...I haven’t seen a smile on your face like that since before Brian died. He makes you happy, even when you two looked so annoyed with one another earlier in the week, he would stare and you would stare. I feel good about this one. I just want you to enjoy falling in love, if you do end up going that route with him.”
You sat down next to her and shrugged, crossing your arms. You leaned back against the wall and rubbed your sneaker against the floor.
“How do you know that’s your guy,” you asked quietly. “I mean, you’ve done it twice. How do you know?”
“It was different with Chuck. I was slower to admit to myself that I was in love with him. Your father was very quickly. I didn’t share that information with him until much later but I knew, a part of me, the part you don’t justify with logic or facts or details, that part always knew. It knew with them both. Nowhere does it say you only have to have one soulmate. I know you don’t want to hear that but I love them both equally, Y/N.”
“Mom, I love Chuck. It’s not the same as dad but I do. He makes you happy and he tries to be a dad to me but he gives me the space I need too. I’m happy you have him. I’m happy we both do.”
“Why do ask how you know the man you’re with is the one?” she asked. “Or are you asking because that part you can’t explain already told you something you’re not even willing to think yet.”
“I was curious was all,” you said as you stood.
“You’re a horrible actor,” she said. You pushed on her shoulder and she laughed. “Fine, fine. No more boy talk. Let’s try another store. I’m at the very least not letting you walk out of this mall without a new pair of heels.”
Later That Night
“Y/N?” asked Jensen outside your bedroom as he knocked on the door. You checked the back of your fancy bun one last time in the mirror before you walked out and into the room.
“One sec,” you said, bending down and putting on the five inch heels, zipping them up in the back. After a moment of looking yourself over in the mirror in a sleek, mostly backless black dress, you opened up the door. Jensen was in a tailored black suit with a deep navy tie. “You look-”
“Wow,” he said, looking you up and down. “You look so fancy.”
“Fancy?” you laughed. “Is this because you hardly ever catch me out of my sweats?”
“Don’t get me wrong, I love the sweats and the leggings. I love all of it,” he said. 
“You look very handsome,” you said, skirting past him and hearing a quiet whistle. “Knew you’d appreciate that.”
“Damn right I do,” he said as he caught up. “Ready to head out?”
“After you.”
“That’s great you guys found a house,” you said an hour later at the restaurant, mouth full of some cheese fries. Nick rolled his eyes at you and you licked your lips. “Wha? I’m hungry.”
“Actually it’s for mom and me,” said Chuck. You raised an eyebrow and he smiled. “I’m a writer so I can work from anywhere and your mom got offered a great position at a clinic here.”
“That’s great guys. I’d love to get to see you more,” you said. You looked at Michael and he had a curious smile on his face. “Did you get a house too?”
“Penthouse apartment hopefully. We’re looking at some tomorrow. Gonna be on my own for the first time. Nick and I talked and he’s not sure if he really wants to move out here yet. We decided we’d see what it’s like living apart for the first time,” he said. 
“Worst case I can always get a professor job at one of the colleges if I change my mind while I try to get into a school district,” said Nick while he played with the remnants of some crust on his plate. 
“You’ll come eventually,” said Chuck. “Get everyone living in the same timezone again. It’ll be good.”
“So are you two like a thing now?” asked Michael to you, looking as innocent as could be while he hid his shit eating grin.
“Yes,” you deadpanned. Jensen looked up from his salad but you went back to eating. For the most part the evening was what you were expecting. Your step-brothers acting oh so pleasant in front of your parents and Jensen getting a few questions about his job. You did smile though when Jensen was able to upstage Michael about some law usage. You were pretty sure even Michael was impressed with him at that point.
“That went well,” said Jensen an hour later after you’d parted ways with your family and were walking back to your car. “Michael’s growing on me. He seemed better tonight. Nick not so much.”
“I’m actually really proud of him for getting his own place. I get that they’re twins but they’re in their thirties. Neither one of them has had a girlfriend in years.”
“Michael’s like a workaholic though,” said Jensen, holding your hand when you walked past a guy in a jacket with his hood up.
“True. Maybe he’ll cut back some out here.”
“How do you think Nick will handle that?” he asked. You stopped walking and pulled out your phone. “What are you doing?”
“I don’t particularly like Nick most of the time, don’t get me wrong. But he might do something stupid,” you said as you dialed your brother. It rang a few times before he answered.
“Yeah?” he said.
“Hey Nick. You want to come over tomorrow while Michael apartment hunts?”
“Uh, sure,” he said and you knew he must have been around your parents still.
“Great. Come over around noon. We’ll have lunch and a swim or something.”
“Okay. See ya.”
You shook your head before you were walking again, Jensen bumping your shoulder.
“Something I need to know about?” he asked.
“The file you did on Nick, what’d you find.”
“Arrest record for when he was young. A few drunk and disorderlies, nothing Michael couldn’t ever get cleared up for him. Hospital stay for a few days in his twenties when he fell down some wet stairs. I’m going to go ahead and guess out of all of that he didn’t fall, did he.”
“No,” you said as you stopped outside your car.
“What happened?”
“I came home from school early and Nick had tried to kill himself,” you said. Jensen blinked a few times and you let out a dry laugh. “It’s hard to surprise you but I think that took the cake.”
“You need to tell me everything.”
“Why?”
“Because he’s a threat to you. You can’t see it but I can. He doesn’t like you and if he’s tried that before, it means-”
“Can we talk about this at home?” you said when you saw someone down the street recognize you. He nodded and they wandered up, asking for a few pictures. You posed and put on a smile, Jensen watching careful with a hard look in his eye.
“Woah, woah,” said Jensen half an hour later as you sat in the family room at one end of the couch in some sweats and an oversized tee, Jensen sporting a similar look but wearing the hoodie you’d given him. He had a notebook by his side but he’d put it on the coffee table in favor of throwing his hands up. “He tried to do it in your bedroom? He left a note on your bed?”
“My closet,” you said. “My closet had attic access so he’d tied a rope up on a beam. He had just kicked the chair away when I walked in. I was skipping last period. Senior year and all.”
“What’d you do?”
“It was very obvious that Nick knew he’d made a mistake. I grabbed him and held him up as best I could until he could untie himself. He fell down pretty hard cause I couldn’t hold him anymore and landed on all the junk lying on my closet floor. He told me we were gonna lie and say he fell down some stairs to account for all the bruises.”
“Why’d you help him lie?”
“Cause I thought he tried to kill himself because of me. I thought he hated me that much. He was in my bedroom after all,” you said.
“You read the note?”
“Jensen-”
“I need to know, Y/N.”
“Why?”
“Because my job is to protect you from threats. If your step-brother doesn’t like you and now his whole family is moving away from him to be closer to you, depending on a lot of things, this could get messy.”
“Jensen-”
“Did you read it?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“And?” For a moment you looked past him and outside, Jensen’s foot nudging yours. “I’m sorry but I gotta know.”
“He felt like a failure. He was in the car with his mom when she died. He saw how well Michael did and I did and he felt distant from his dad and he felt like his life was crumbling around him and honestly, he wanted to go be with his mom again. He felt like he didn’t belong. I fucking bawled reading it.”
“You guys ever talk about it or was it over like that?”
“I slapped him in the face and told him he was pathetic. His mom, my dad, they didn’t get a choice to live or die. I was so angry at him. He apologized and he promised me that if he ever felt like that again, he’d tell me. A few years later, he came to me and thought he might do something stupid.”
“His teaching sabbatical he went on.”
“He got some professional help. I paid for it all. He stayed out here, nearby. I visited him everyday on the way into work. He got better. He learned a lot about himself, how to cope, how to deal with things in his life. He still sees a therapist every week I pay for on the down low.”
“He’s no threat to you.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because he loves you and you love him, even if you don’t like one another or act like you care. If something bad were to happen, he would help you and you’re gonna do it right back.”
“How do-”
“Because your step-brothers who are assholes to you at times, they wanted to ensure that I would protect you when I first met them. I think it’s finally all clicking into place,” he said. “Hence why you never say a word about their behavior to your mom.”
“I will take prickly siblings over dead ones, even if I didn’t pick them,” you said.
“Are you worried Nick will take a bad turn with everyone else moving here?”
“I don’t know. I know he associates this place with bad memories, some of his darkest memories. I don’t blame him for not wanting to live here,” you said. Jensen nodded and ran his thumb over his lips. He propped his elbow on the back of the couch, resting his head in it.
“I’ve always thought you were kind. But helping your brother like that, in secret when I’m sure you want to tell your family, that’s not easy.”
“Yes, it is. There was never really a decision to be made though. The only one was to tell my parents and Michael and as long as Nick is honest with me, I will keep his secrets from them.”
“You’re more loyal than some of the people I served with,” he said, looking out the back windows. “It’s only an easy decision if you’re a good person. I wish I’d worked with more of those.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” you asked. He smiled and ruffled his hair, frowning after a moment.
“Jared saved my life you know. After I healed up, I transferred to his unit.”
“He’s a good guy to call your friend,” you said. He hummed and you crawled over to him, wrapping your arms around him. “I’m glad we’re finally friends.”
“Me too,” he said. He pulled you into his lap and rested his head on your shoulder. Your fingers ran through his hair, eyes drawn down to how his back flexed and relaxed. “Sorry for playing twenty questions with Nick. I won’t say a word to anyone, including him.”
“S’okay. Just doing your job.”
“What time is it?”
“Almost nine. Why?”
“Do you want to go to bed?”
“Counter offer. We make out in my hot tub and then go to bed.”
“Counter counter offer. I make ice cream sundaes we eat in said hot tub and then make out and then go to bed.”
“I’ve always had a thing for intelligent men,” you said. You kissed his cheek and he chuckled. “You’ve never seen me in a bikini before, have you.”
“I’m in for a treat then, aren’t I?” he said. “Go on and change.”
“I’ll meet you out there,” you said. You departed from him and headed upstairs, poking around in your closet for the perfect one to put on. You spotted him come out of the hall in his orange and blue striped shorts, a whistle on his lips as he jogged downstairs. In your closet you took a seat on the small bench, holding up your black teeny tiny bikini and your aqua blue that honestly made your butt look great.
You opted for the black top and blue bottoms to get the best of both worlds. You were midway through pulling your shirt off when you heard Jensen come in the room.
“Oh come on-” you said, something whacking you in the back of the head. Instantly you fell down, strong arms catching you. You looked up wearily, someone in a black mask looking down at you. The eyes weren’t green and you kneed him, putting an elbow to the back of the guy’s neck and making him groan. You got to your feet as fast as possible and sprinted out of the room. “Jensen!”
You knew you weren’t going to make it to the stairs without the guy catching you so you grabbed the railing and vaulted over the balcony to the ground below. You rolled when you hit the ground, spotting Jensen by the base of the stairs. Your eyes spun upwards, Jensen following your gaze and seeing the man standing there. You turned and saw Jensen running towards you, a loud thud right beside you. The man was on the first floor now and you ducked down, missing his arms as you dove into the dining room. By the time you had your head up, you saw Jensen tackling the guy, a gun going flying out of the intruder’s hands.
You stood up, watching the two of them wrestle, the intruder getting a good hit on Jensen’s face. 
“Y/N, go!” you heard Jensen yelling at you, the pounding in your ears finally growing a little quieter. Jensen told you when you were going over his book of rules that was the adrenaline in your system, trying to get your body to only focus on survival. The gun was laying fairly close to you and you heard Jensen shout, eyes darting over to see he had a cut on the back of his shoulder. 
He had Jensen pinned face down and was working on restraining him. He was still shouting at you and the man looked up the second he had pulled the tie taut. You ran over and picked up the gun, the man revealing a knife.
“Put that down or I kill him,” he said. You swallowed, Jensen yelling a frenzy of things at you, all of which involved you running away as fast as possible. Instead you aimed the gun and fired, the man falling backwards as it hit his vest. 
You ran over and kicked the knife he dropped away, keeping the gun on him as Jensen rolled over to it and cut himself free. He gave you a dirty look but searched the guys pockets and found more restraints, slipping some on the intruder before taking the gun out of your hands.
“Call the police. Now,” said Jensen. 
________
A/N: Read Part 7 here!
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bluuxriising · 2 years
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What's the best thing Bluu loves about this time of year? Well, it's not wasting all her calories on over-priced pumpkin spice lattes, and it's not spending hours building a gingerbread house doomed to fall in a crumbly mess.
No, it's the hot chocolate! But having just plain old hot chocolate can be tedious. Bluu prefers to spice it up with a teeny dash of hot pepper or just a smidge of peanut butter. Unusual? Yes. But it works, and the unique flavor leaves her feeling warm.
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ivyveil · 5 years
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Don’t Leave, Stay
the one where Y/N fears that Harry only wears Gucci, Harry can actually cook, and Nick is growing more creative in his match-making
A/N: This is a continuation of my series Saint Nick (found here) and it isn’t necessarily to read them all but it helps!
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“Hello, love,” he welcomed her in, one arm outstretched for a hug as the other rested on the door. He looked cozy, socked feet resting against his hardwood floor as the edges of his striped pants grazed over them, making only his toes visible.
As Y/N stepped inside his flat, she immediately picked up on the smells of a home-cooked meal, the type that took her back to days of her childhood – that sense of spice, warmth, and the sounds of sizzling foods. She was invited to a ‘dinner party’, to put it formally, between Harry and Nick; although she had not quite met Harry yet, they had all been placed in a group message by Nick and had sort of met by those means. She wasn’t entirely sure why she had been included in the plans but didn’t particularly mind, Nick was a close friend and Harry seemed nice.
Even though she and Harry had texted a fair bit, Y/N still felt like a walking bundle of nerves, plus some. She hadn’t known what to wear to Harry’s, interpreting from the memes Nick flooded the group text with that Harry had an eclectic, and expensive, taste in fashion. An hour before, she had tried phoning Nick to figure out his approach, to try and model her own after his.
Nick hadn’t picked up, though, and it had eventually neared the time that Y/N had scheduled to have a car come by to drive her to Harry’s. So, in a fit of panic and using what outfits she already mentally knew worked, Y/N opted for a pair of black jeans, buckled belt, and a cream sweater, figuring it was enough like the rest of her newfound London squad to be acceptable for a house dinner.
On her way out, dashing quickly to lock her door and stuff her key in her purse, Y/N had one quick taste of the bitter winds before realizing that – nope, a jacket was necessary. Praying her Uber wouldn’t be upset by a few seconds of tardiness, Y/N stumbled inside and grabbed an oversized gray coat, bundling herself up on the walk to the car.
Harry had removed this jacket from her shoulders as she took in his foyer, as small as it was considering he was in a flat and not his own property. She didn’t know the specifics as to why he wasn’t in his publicly-known home, but figured it had to do with privacy, needing time away, or some other celebrity-related reason.
Y/N thanked him, Harry nodding back before hanging it up in his coat closet. Y/N took the opportunity to look at the photos lined on the shelves nearing the living room. There were wooden shelves, barely varnished, with black curls extending from the edges of the bottom to the wall, securely fastened in with black nails. Various frames littered the surface, some photos lay naked without a hard border, while others were stacked in the corner. Handwriting was visible on the bottom of a few pictures.
“My family,” Harry pointed out a white frame showing a row of people with similar laugh lines, enjoying a brunch on someone’s grassy patio. Next to it was a stream of Polaroids, some with dates hastily written along the bottom, others with random words scrawled along the sides. Some of the locations Y/N recognized, such as the Eiffel Tower at night, or the local bar that was down the street from her flat (in that one, Nick had stuffed a large burger in his mouth and giving the camera two thumbs-ups.)
“Random mo’ents, the simple ones,” Harry explained, running his fingers through his hair and gently pulling at the roots. His hands rested on his hips as he sternly looked over the photos with Y/N, as if criticizing their placement. She continued to survey the photos, nodding at Harry to sign that she had heard.
It seemed quaint, in a sense of the word, how none of the pictures were related to his wild successes or rich endeavors. Granted, the traveling was a sign of doing fairly well, but nothing screamed ‘I’m a millionaire.’ A few were random nature shots, predictable for an amateur photographer (at least, she figured that was what Harry was trying to accomplish), while others were of other celebrities – but in natural places, natural poses, without any facade distinguishing them as someone apart from society. There were as he saw them: people.
Harry seemed a bit flustered. He stood far enough from Y/N for it to be considered polite, considering their status as almost-strangers, but not quite alienating her from his deemed bubble space.
“Is Nick not here, yet?” Y/N moved on from the photos, shifting her purse down her arm, grasping the strap and placing it down on the side table next to a vase of sunflowers.
Harry shook his head, turning away from the photo wall as well.
“He said he might be late, had somethin’ come up,” he shrugged, gesturing to the open doorway of the kitchen and stepping to the side to allow her to go through first. She took the hint, moving swiftly from the foyer into his cooking space and looking at the mix of vegetables, sauces, and spoons scattered along the countertops. The smell grew stronger, nicer, fuller, and her stomach growled lowly in response. It must have taken a few hours, at least, to have prepared everything and set it up – Y/N felt the slightest twinge of surprise echo in her gut. He seemed to have gone all out for a dinner together. She hoped Nick would show up soon.
While Harry got back to work shifting and shaking some pots and pans, leaning low to check on the oven, Y/N sat down on a rustic barstool by the raised countertops, clasping her fingers together and resting against the marble. He had some music playing, low, through a fancy stereo system that seemed partially ingrained into the flat itself. A candle or two sat on the countertop near Y/N, although neither were lit. The kitchen smelled heavenly already though, so it wasn’t likely they would be needed.
“Didn’t know if yeh were vegetarian or somethin’, so I made a quinoa…type of thing,” he eyed the oven, as if wary a bloody cow would squeeze out of the door.
“Ah, I try to be when I can, but it’s not a permanent diet,” she hummed, leaning forward a bit on her elbows. Harry nodded, still glancing at the oven as he continued cooking some of the veg. A few containers were already out on the table around the bend from the kitchen, one bowl full of bread and another, smaller in size, holding the spread.
His flat was a bit on the chilly side, cold licks along the holes of Y/N’s sweater and the air vibrating with the kick-in of his heater. It was cozy, blankets were strewn along the couch in his living room, but Y/N felt it wasn’t the time to wrap herself up comfortably in a burrito-esque shape.
Silence extended itself, only a smidge unwelcome, along the two people in the flat. Harry continued cooking, seeming in his element – but yet, aware that the conversation had reached a natural, but strained, standstill. He wasn’t sure where Nick was, and debated texting him for the fourth time, making sure his best friend was actually coming. He wouldn’t put it over Nick to have forgotten, to have gone out with other friends and end up in an art gallery that took away his phone so he could properly ‘drink in’ the experience.
“So,” Harry started, feeling the obligation lay mostly on him for being the Host, “-you’re workin’ at a juice company?”
Y/N nodded, reaching back to pat her hair and make sure no strays had gotten tangled. It was a good job, the concepts she worked with interested her a great deal. If there was something LA kids liked, it was their juice. The blends she assisted on manufacturing were pretty alright, too, if she said so herself. Y/N attempted to live healthy when she could afford to, but more often than not she preferred buying a salad, wrap, or other actual food as opposed to a juice. Smoothies, even, would catch her attention more than strained apples. So, her work was pleasant and intriguing but left her wanting in regard to being fulfilled, it had no impact she felt she could feel in her own, individual path of life.
“Yeah, I’m just helping out with a few advertising campaigns. I try to freelance but tend to get roped into larger projects, spend more time at their offices than I planned on.”
Y/N hesitated for a moment, before standing up and stepping away from the barstools. She rounded the counter, nearing the kitchen, flashing a wary smile when Harry noticed her coming closer. She held out a hand for the spoon he was stirring a sauce with, and he shook his head, a smile toying at the corners of his lips.
“No, ma’am,” he said quietly, holding the spoon further away from Y/N, “-yeh’re the guest here. I’m the chef,” he nodded for emphasis, the cheeky grin taking over his face. His eyes scrunched a bit when he couldn’t help the smile, Y/N noted, and his nose crinkled slightly.
“I want to help, Harry. You made fun of my macaroni skills last week, I’ve gotta prove myself.”
This was true – when Y/N had suffered a particularly bad day, she had texted a photo of her TV dinner in front of her TV as she was binge-watching Breaking Bad, to which her boys replied:
(Nick Harry Y/N)
Not impressed. Harry can cook much better.
I wouldn’t say MUCH better but I know how to use more than a microwave? x.
See? Got miles on Y/N already.
Ah I bet that’s not true. x.
Wow fuck off both of you, I’m sad and this WASN’T THE SHOW TO WATCH OH MY GOD NICK WHY DIDN’T YOU WARN ME ABOUT HTIS EPISODE
Uhhhh it got your mind off work didn’t it??? Sheesh, talk about ungrateful.
Harry snorted, shaking his head at the memory, and handed her a spatula without another word. She shifted over to the other side of the stove, checking out the progress Harry had made with the various pans set up along the surface. It would be plausible to assume she missed Harry’s glance over, how it lingered on her face and hesitated a second too long before turning back to the potatoes.
But if her reddened cheeks were anything to go by, she hadn’t.
“I didn’t know what to wear, thought you might’ve opened the door in some bright blue Gucci suit,” she confessed, as a song came on she recognized. Y/N bopped her head to it casually as she cooked, snatching a stray teaspoon and trying the sauce.
She stopped the groan from her lips before it had time to manifest; Harry was a fucking good cook. Harry seemed to notice her holding back, and bit back another laugh.
“Nah, that’s Harry Styles, love. Just Harry, now.”
She imagined some jazz hands when he said his full, ‘stage’ name, feeling the emphasis on the word, like it was a performance of the pieces of himself willing to be put on display. Harry Styles basked in the audience’s cheers, feeding them back the same energy and granting himself the opportunity to take advantage of feeling on top of the world.
“What’s the difference, if you don’t mind me asking?” She turned off the heat on the pan, as Harry also killed the fire for his. He seemed preoccupied fiddling with the oven’s knobs, letting the ‘quinoa thing’ cool inside. It took a while before he answered. Some questions couldn’t be given a voice to right away, especially when it was as massive as identity, which Y/N definitely understood. She had never been forced to respond to the world with who she was, only her parents and a few concerned friends. The pressure of being so well-known was unfathomable to her.
“’M Harry all the time,” he began, a brief silence interrupting his explanation as he crossed the room to fetch some oven mitts to pull the dish out. The heat radiated outwards from the open oven, warming up his cheeks a bit more than they were naturally.
Not wanting to interrupt him, Y/N just hummed appreciatively when she smelled it; Harry was a really fucking good cook.
Her stomach growled again,
“On stage, or at interviews, or whatever, ’m Harry Styles, which is still me,” and he turned from setting the dish down to search in her eyes, for a foundation of understanding, or perhaps the lurking suspicion that he was crazy. Either one he anticipated, the concept still confused him, himself. He pulled off the oven mitts, setting them down on the counter as he thought his next few words carefully.
“’Ve gotta separate the two, but Harry is like…all-encompassing me, yeah?” His fingers drew out an orb in the air, and then he pointed at one spot on the imaginary ball. Y/N’s eyes were glued to the pretend area, pursing her lips and giving a quick nod. “That point, right there, is when I’m on stage. It’s not everything, yeh know? But it’s still me. It’s all me, but I can’t maintain that one spot all the time.
“It is the most gratifying spot, though. It’s like,” his eyes obtained the quality of glimmering at something a bit beyond the edges of the Known, an intangible sense of validation and appreciation that existed only in the space of his stage, “-’M there, and everyone else is there, and we’re all…there.” His eyes darted out, away from their safe space in the universe, to meet Y/N’s, to perhaps see if they held any laughter or mockery in them.
She only stood there, attentively, listening. No judgment in her eyes, only curiosity.
He continued.
“’T’s crazy, that people care ‘bout what I say. Or write, or sing, yeh know?” his eyes briefly closed, and he shook his head, the serious topic brushing down his spine and dissipating at his feet. The moment was over, albeit quickly but Y/N wasn’t sure what else to say – to either bring it back, or transition into another conversation.
She couldn’t grasp onto what he was saying, because experience was the only way, but she altogether understood the concept. It was a special place, for him, to be on stage – and to let him bring his whole, uninhibited self into that space would be to subject it to the validation of an entire crowd. Sometimes, aspects of people had to remain vulnerable, unapproachable, even if for criticism’s sake. His persona was crucial to his sanity, an understandable concept given the immense support he had universally.
Harry broke the quiet, chuckling a bit to himself.
“Do yeh want some wine? Dinner should be ready soon, ‘n I can see where Nick’s at…”
Y/N nodded, mumbling her thanks and mentally wondering why she hadn’t thought to bring any wine. Wasn’t that a grown up thing to do? She had no idea; she had texted Nick asking if they should bring gifts, and he had replied with:
Babe I think your presence is enough of a gift for young Haz.
From which Y/N got the impression that Harry was a lot lonelier than he let on, needing to bring in Nick’s friends for a dinner party. Or perhaps Nick simply recognized how broke Y/N was and assumed it would be kinder to let her escape the insufferable obligation of being a guest. What was proper and socially acceptable had never been drafted out for Y/N, and self-help books only served as nice paperweights.
Shifting his eyes to anywhere but Y/N, Harry went around the corner to, presumably, where his wine cellar was. Y/N was left in the kitchen to her own devices, and she took the opportunity to scurry out and grab her phone from the purse in the hallway. There was one text message from Nick in the group text.
im sooooo durnk… :0:):)
It had been sent five minutes before, an apparent hint that Nick had either forgotten or gotten so wound up in his time spent with others’, he was simply unable to make it to Harry’s. Nick was not the type to be wasted frequently, he usually stayed sober to keep an eye on those around him. He just knew how to have a nice time, drunk or sober, and appreciated the mornings after much more when he had stayed dry. But none of this was relevant, when he wasn’t there.
Y/N inhaled deeply, fingers itching for that promised glass of wine. The night spent with friends sounded nice, relaxing, full of tipsy giggles and shared anecdotes. Having Nick be an intermediate between Harry and herself had been assuring, because despite her interactions with him over text – she didn’t properly know him, right? Not the way he reacts to words, not the way his eyes seem to dig deeper than what she was normally comfortable with showing.
“Uh-” Harry called out from a few rooms away, entering with a bottle of wine tucked in his right hand and resting against his elbow, and his phone in his left hand. He was scrolling, eyebrows furrowed as he read.
“Nick not coming?” Y/N prompted, tucking her phone snug in her back pocket.
Harry shook his head, mild irritation nestling itself in the depths of his face. It wasn’t that he didn’t look forward to hanging out with Y/N, but he had been counting on Nick to help the flow of conversation, as his best friend was known to do. The idea of sitting across from Y/N with only food and wine between them worried him slightly, it was a bit intimidating. Especially after Nick hyped up his ‘other best friend’ so much.
Somehow, though, throughout the course of dinner, things smoothed out. Harry wasn’t looking down at his plate as much as he had feared, it was more about connecting with her eyes and it all felt like a continuation of a friendship Harry hadn’t known started. 
The sense of a Beginning was in the past, lurking behind the sparkle in his eyes, Y/N thought, it all rang as though she and Harry were merely catching up, rather than properly introducing themselves.
But, it wasn’t ‘somehow’, it was clearly because Y/N’s laugh only encouraged Harry’s relentless jokes, making him come out of his shell more than he may have without. The way she would cover her mouth when she accidentally snorted (at a particularly bad joke, fart jokes couldn’t be funny when they’re in the 20s, could they) spurred on his own laughter. He sat, reaching for more wine, his mouth crooked in a mix between a smirk, at his own brilliance, and a smile, his stomach feeling the all-too-familiar flutters.
“What’s yeh ideal job?” Harry suddenly questioned Y/N, once the giggles had died a bit. He was sitting across from her, one arm leaning against the empty chair next to him as he casually spread his legs. Harry’s face was calm, his eyes lazily sweeping the table to spot another bread roll for his fingers to crumble apart as they spoke.
Y/N had attempted to sit proper, for as long as she could, but eventually caved into her natural slouch, her elbows resting on the table and her right hand dangling to the side with the glass of wine between her fingers. Her hair was a bit messy, but Harry didn’t bother to mention it, he sort of liked how the curled strands brushed lay against her cheek, her neck, the top bits of her forehead. It made her seem more human, her flaws were endearing.
“I don’t know if it’s an exact place,” Y/N began, toying with her wine glass and wishing she had a better answer. She knew the basics of what she wanted, what her soul craved and how her current employment wasn’t meeting those needs. Travel was fairly high up in her priorities, and LA was a great hub for those opportunities. Start-ups gave her choices in terms of diversity of company, and non-profits were fantastic work experiences. Yet, there was a voice with no origin, saying softly that her current situation was more of an obstacle than an end-goal. Y/N couldn’t help but agree with the voice, but how can one justify altering the course their life is set on, due to some intangible source?
A bit reckless.
“That’s alright,” Harry hummed, his gaze shifting from the bread roll to Y/N. She was biting her lip, perhaps without fully realizing it, the candle glow manipulating the shades of her face.
“I’ll figure it out.” It sounded more like a promise to Harry, than an assertion of Y/N feeling sure of herself.
“’M sure yeh will, love, you’re smart,” Harry replied kindly, grinning at her attempt to roll her eyes. They ended up only looking in one direction before darting back to his face, and she stuck her tongue out at his chuckling. He didn’t feel particularly comfortable pushing the topic, not having weaseled out of Nick Y/N’s backstory yet.
Dinner slowly wrapped up, each young adult equally resistant to calling the night over. Harry was telling all of the stories he could think of, deriving from his school days and when he had gone on his first tour. He strayed away from too many celebrity-based stories, adoring the sense of normalcy that had settled around the pair. He was simply Harry, his Gucci impression had worn off in her eyes, replaced by the sense that the man-child in front of her still kept his teddy bear from when he was 5 in his bedroom, propped up on his pillows.
Y/N, on the other hand, was trying to keep her glass as full as possible. But their plates were empty, and there was nothing left to do but sip at it every so often, to feel as though she wasn’t being annoying by constantly laughing at whatever intense story Harry had begun. His hands would fling out and he would lean in, as if someone were attempting to overhear his brilliant recount of sneaking out of his house to meet up with friends to trade comic books. He reached over a few times to fill her wine back up, perhaps sensing what Y/N’s plan was and complying with it, no words necessary.
Eventually, though, time could only hold back so much.
“If yeh don’t have anywhere to be tonight…” Harry began, and his eyes flickered down a bit lower than normal, not quite hitting proper eye contact. Shyness suited him, in an odd light, it was a revelation of him that went against the grains of the confident and easy-going nature Y/N had assumed from texts.
“I can show yeh the library. Well, no’ a library exactly, but it’s where I read and stuff,” he explained, scratching at his head.
“Yeah, sure, I’d love that. Love books.” was all Y/N could rally up to reply with, happy he had suggested another plan but overall very much feeling the effects of the wine.
The dishes were collected together, stacked near the sink for the inevitable time that chores and cleanliness ruled the night, and Harry led Y/N down one of his halls to a secluded room on the left.
His fingers were rough against the grey-ish cover of the book, his thumbs pressing in to keep the pages from closing together. The book was well worn, the pages’ edges mostly bent or dog-earred, the cover pages a bit splotchy and off color. It was evidently a loved book, a well used book, one that held the types of words people can’t seem to forget, yet always go searching for once more. Finding solace in a novel isn’t an easy task, especially because it’s nearly impossible to do it if it’s a goal as opposed to a circumstance.
The room wasn’t well lit, but the glistening spines of books scattered the light everywhere so most corners of the room had, at the very least, a warmth. It was the epitome of a study; deep cherry wood stain running along the bookshelves and the couches and seat cushions were hardened by leather. It all felt very dense and compact inside, although there was a yellow dream-catcher dangling above Harry’s desk. A spry, free moment within the organized dictatorship of organization. Perhaps he felt it would give his life more order; from what Nick had mentioned to Y/N, there had been more chaos than anything else as of late.
80s music stretched the sides of the walls, coming from Harry’s record player balanced on top of some dictionaries in the corner. It was the only noise, save the rain against his window in the middle of the back wall. Two seats were against the window, on opposing sides, and themselves bordered by full bookshelves. Harry was curled up in one, his striped legs tucking themselves over the edge of the seat and dangling above the floor. His back rested against the wall, a black shirt with rolled sleeves and a small sauce stain on the shoulder. She had told him it wasn’t noticeable, especially since the fabric was so dark anyway, but his nose still wrinkled because it was his favorite black shirt.
He was quietly flipping through his old copy, the elegant words never failing to keep him enthralled. His fingers tugged on his lower lip as he read, absentmindedly twirling against his chin and mouth.
Y/N didn’t mind that he was preoccupied within his literary universe; she had a copy of some other thick, heavily angsty novel from his shelves and was pretty content with her position in the seat next to Harry. It was late, late enough for yawns to continuously pull out of her mouth and force Harry to shuffle in his chair every now and again, to keep from falling asleep.
Eventually, she accepted the reality of the situation. It was late, or perhaps even early at this point, and Harry hadn’t implied anything about her staying the night over. Not that she expected him to, especially not in a romantic way, but she much preferred his cozy flat to her disarrayed one. Not to mention the knowledge that someone was next to her, that she wasn’t completely alone - it all felt comforting. A feeling that had evaded her heart for the longest time, considering she usually worked late hours and was always being thrust into different environments.
Looking over her shoulder and seeing Harry, who had expected nothing of her except what she wanted to provide, was nice. Similarly for Harry, Y/N was one of the loveliest people he had met recently, a woman who wasn’t so wrapped in her own ego she couldn’t see beyond that blurry haze, a woman who got shit done but wasn’t afraid to recognize room for improvement. Plus, she hadn’t asked any questions that would be out the norm, no references to his stardom or One Direction days (he had half-feared she would bring up one of the memes Nick had posted two days ago, which was particularly scandalous and reminded him of mistakes long ago). She let him explain who he was, and took him at that.
“Maybe I should get going…” she mumbled, her throat thick with lack of use in the past few hours, as she shifted up out of the seat. The time had escaped her, checking her phone would be checking into a reality she didn’t want to intrude on her lovely night.
Harry glanced up, half-dazed, before putting his book to the side.
“Oh, yeah, ‘ suppose. What time is’t?” he groaned, rolling to his side to check his phone. Apparently, more time had gone by than either of them thought, because he immediately shook his head.
“Don’t feel comfortable lettin’ yeh go home this hour, love. Cabs full of odd people, don’t like it,” he grumbled, bringing his legs over to the proper side of the chair and standing up slowly. He ran his fingers through his hair, attempting to control the little he had at the moment, as Y/N tried to remember where she had put her purse. They had opened another wine bottle before cracking into the books, their glasses still holding a few droplets on their coasters, but it hadn’t helped the fog that overcame her mind.
“I think we’re still a lil gone, Haz,” Y/N spoke softly, and if his heart didn’t skip at that, “-I don’t think getting behind the wheel is too smart…”
Harry shook his head. “Nah, planned on gettin’ the guest room set up.”
And he took the steps forward to meet Y/N, his hands tucking gently into his pockets. His hair was tousled, half to one side and the loosely shaved sides curling the tiniest bit against each other. He sniffed, swaying back and forth a bit, not moving enough to suggest he was in a rush to the guest room. His eyes were intent on Y/N’s, as she felt another laugh stir up in her, leaving her mouth only as a half-breath with the slightest sway to a giggle.
The slurred nature of a night spent late, especially with the addition of good company and good wine, tended to create a private atmosphere, where both parties are convinced that their actions would never impact another aspect of their life. The night was independent, special, and epic. Nothing could’ve prevented this, really, Y/N figured, recognizing the question floating against Harry’s breath. If only he would ask it…
His eyes slowed in their journey around her face, narrowing to only staring her lips, as if they held the last of the nectar and he was desperate to become a god. She had been biting them again, but once she realized where his attention had gone, her lower lip was released.
Y/N stood, her hands still clutching the book she had started, and if anyone asked her at that moment, she couldn’t even remember the title, the author, her own name.
Harry was pleased enough to inform her, through a voice weighed down with the drunken lust of a man holding back, “Y/N…”
She stayed quiet, almost frozen into a statue of her former self.
“Can I…could I…kiss yeh?” His hands made the motion as if they were coming out of their pocket restraints but paused, trying to gauge her reaction before acting any further. If Harry was reading the signs wrong, this would have been utterly disastrous.
Y/N’s lips parted, quite in shock that the words had slipped out of his mouth instead of hers, when she felt the same thought cross her mind so intensely. Shaking her head ‘yes’, her heart and her mind collaborated to attempt and figure out what was going on.
And Harry never looked so pleased with himself, his eyes dashing up and down her face, not quite sure where to land when her eyes were sparkling like that, her cheeks were so flush, her lips were already bitten red and her fingers were setting the book on a side table.
Harry reached out, one hand hesitantly laying on her waist and another reaching out to gently glide over her cheek. She was so soft, inside and out, his fingers drifted to the nape of her neck. Her eyes fluttered shut, and her lips came together in the slightest bit, the shade of a raspberry practically and -
The front door thrashed open, the click of a key apparently having gone over the both of them in the haze of excitement and Monumental Things Occurring. A stumbling man came through, visible from their position near the library doorway, as the foyer was cut out as an area between the kitchen and bedrooms/study.
Nick held up two bottles of champagne in one hand, seemingly haven drunken one quite fine by himself, squealing to himself over some joke he had thought of on the way inside.
“Harry! Y/N! My besties,” he sang, wiggling his hips and handing the bottles off to Harry. Y/N and Harry had separated, instinctively, as soon as the door had opened, and now Harry only looked at her in obvious dismay, unsure with how to proceed.
“C’mon, Nick, you had your water?” Y/N took ahold of the situation, walking forward to gently guide Nick by the elbow. It was a comfortable routine, between her and Nick, and she knew from his incoherent grunts that yes, he had his water, although he didn’t like it very much.
She didn’t bother to look at Harry, unsure what words could fill up distance. Nick began jabbering about his night out, the expensive dishes and luxury galore that he had dabbled in, and how he would’ve been thrilled to take her and Haz along, but he knew Haz had been slaving away on the dinner – and he so meant to make it back in time to grab some of Harry’s dinner rolls. 
That was when Nick began tittering again, glancing madly at the wallpaper as Y/N and Harry both led him to the guest room, that had previously been Y/N’s in a prior conversation, in what felt like a prior decade.
“Did ya touch Harry’s buns, yeah?” he asked Y/N, eyes alight with mischief.
Harry snorted with laughter, pulling away from Nick to pull back the billowing comforter on the bed and prop up the pillows so they would be nice and fluffed for his dear, drunk friend. Y/N worked on sitting Nick down, grasping his phone out of his hand and putting it safely within the side table drawer, knowing Nick had a tendency of texting the wrong people when he was newly hungover.
“I would like it if yeh still stayed, I’ve still got a half of my bed,” Harry whispered, after they had successfully pulled Nick’s socks off and he was fast asleep under the covers, like a small boy who had crashed from his sugar high. They looked like two parents, each looking fondly at their boy, their fingers like ghosts drifted closer to each other’s, before hesitating, and drawing away.
“Just sleeping,” Y/N confirmed, eyebrows raised to signify that she wasn’t planning on lowering her borders again. The night had closed the possibilities for the time, they were who they were at the dining table. A bit awkward, the silence unrelenting. Two new friends, who both needed to come together for Nick.
Harry blinked slow, a smile growing on his face as he nodded, seeming at bliss with that.
He held the door open for her, as he did when she first entered his flat, and similarly she passed him with a furtive glance that sent him in small, tipsy giggles.
“Yeah, love, just sleeping.”
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A/N: I hope you enjoyed! Let me know your thoughts here, and check out the rest of my works if you’d like!
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pajamaqueencooks · 5 years
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Aromatic Pastes
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How often have you passed over a recipe because it called for a slice of ginger or a single sprig of thyme, and you just knew you wouldn’t be able to use up the rest of that tiny, expensive package of greens? Don’t feel bad—we’ve all done it. But I’m here to tell you those days are over. Meet your new best friend—the aromatic paste. No more wasted greens, no more sad, wilty basil in the drawer, and perhaps best of all, no more time and patience wasted mincing garlic into itsy-bitsy pieces.
When you're counting Spoons, being able to completely skip the mincing steps considerably speeds up a lot of recipes, while upping your flavor options, and the cost-efficiency of your ingredients at the same time. By the time I get home from work most days, the idea of peeling garlic, as small a task as it is, can seem exhausting, let alone dealing with other fresh herbs. With a collection of these pastes, whipping up top-notch food is within reach, even on an exhausted weeknight. Personally, I always stock a large mason jar of garlic paste, along with smaller jars of ginger and chive pastes, and then whatever might possess my passing whimsy. Mint in summer? Sure! Basil? Why not?
In general cooking terms, aromatics can encompass any mixture of fresh and dry spices, herbs, or other flavorings that, as the name indicates, add potent aroma and flavor to cooking. In this case, though, we’re only concerned with the fresh and, thus, perishable types. Think garlic, ginger, basil, chives (pictured above), rosemary, lemongrass, cilantro—the works. And, better still, if there’s a particular combination that you use constantly (say, ginger and garlic, if you cook a lot of Asian-style dishes), you can mix them together into a flavor-packed mixture, saving yourself one more step when it comes time to cook.
This is one of the simplest and most magical tricks in my arsenal, and it’s so basic that it’s barely a recipe. All you need is a medium-to-large batch of your chosen aromatic(s), an air-tight container (Mason jars are my go-to), a food processor/chopper/blender, and a smidge of oil and water. Citrus or citric acid are optional additions, if you like the taste, or are worried about your paste keeping. Generally speaking, the combination of refrigeration and oil is enough to keep a paste fresh for up to two weeks, but, if you’re worried, a dash of the citric acid in lemon juice will make your paste damn near invulnerable. If even the superpowers of citric acid don't reassure you, there are always herb cubes (and all kinds of other food-saving-savvy cubes)!!
Aromatic Pastes
Ingredients
1/2 cup or more aromatic(s) water neutral oil (such as canola, light olive, or sunflower) Lemon juice or citric acid (optional for preservation/citrus flavor)
Notes
If you plan to use garlic, save yourself some misery, and buy the pre-peeled cloves. Most upscale grocers and Asian markets will sell them this way at a very modest markup—at my local Asian market, I pay under $4.00 for a jar that probably holds over a cup of garlic cloves. If you deal with a lot of fatigue, the extra few bucks are more than worth the energy spent meticulously peeling multiple heads of garlic.
If you have a small food chopper or mini-food processor, or can borrow/buy one (they usually run only $25-$35), they are far-and-away the best tool for the job. You can use a full sized food processor or blender, but you may want to make a larger batch—the less full the processor bowl is, the more the machine will struggle to circulate and properly chop the ingredients. If you only have a larger machine, don't stress—make a double or triple batch: the extra can be frozen into herb cubes whose lifespan is nearly infinite.
Directions
If your aromatics don't come pre-peeled/washed, wash thoroughly. Pick out any bad pieces, trim roots or dried ends, and/or peel.
If you're working with an herb like rosemary with a tough, woody stem, remove herb leaves from the stem.. If you're using ginger, cut into slices or large chunks.
Set up food processor/chopper, and add aromatics. Be sure you have enough aromatics to fill the bowl to at least 2 inches, or the blades won't be able to work properly.
Run the processor on the highest setting, and wait. Depending on what aromatics you're using, it may take only a second or so, or a minute or two for things to get broken down. If you want to use it, add 1-2 tsp. of lemon juice (or equivalent citric acid) during this step.
If it's been a minute, and the paste isn't as fine as you'd like it to be (a matter of preference), add water, one teaspoon at a time, until you achieve the desired consistency.
Use your smallest spatula to scrape your paste into your container—be sure you have at least an inch to spare!
Add 2-4 tbsp. oil. You can stir the oil in if you'd rather, but if you do, be sure to add enough oil so that there is some covering the top layer.
Voila! You have a supply of fresh aromatics ready to put to use at a moment's notice!
Most aromatics and herbs last at least 1-2 weeks, but you should be sure to check for mold or mildew each time you open the jar, just in case.
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mxladymorgan · 6 years
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♡ @pilawforhire sent; answer under the break
  “Milady, as your doctor, it would be unethical if I did not advise you adequately with regards to your well-being. First and foremost, I would recommend no more than five churros in one sitting, and no more than five churros in a week. Secondly, daily exercise has anti-ageing benefits. Thus, from this day onwards, I shall expect to see you committing to sweating it out daily. One more thing. Milady, did you know of the recent breakthrough in medical science? Why, research has proven that swearing is salubrious, palliative – and without all the deleterious side effects of substance or domestic abuse. Now, having observed your recent symptoms of stress, perhaps due to it being your time of the month, say it with me: Fuckbread. Pisspizza. Arsebagel.” He recited the words with oomph.
♡ Law’s entrance should not even begin to surprise Morgan - this was, after all, his room, the Tang his domain for him to roam as he pleased - yet it did and more than that too - it made her panic, the spoon with which she pulled scoop after scoop of chocolate ice cream off a triple tub hosting vanilla and strawberry as well shaking in her hand, nearly taking flight with a jerk.
He was not supposed to see her like this.
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Morgan was currently playing host to a visit from Aunt Flo. She handled it alright, well enough not to give reason to the eternal misogynist talk of women and moods. Her talk and tone were polite and gentle as always - if anyone could talk of harsh speech that would be Law but that, too, was a constant in their relationship - only slower in its rhythm, as if being uttered at a cost, and every now and then she’d make an ungraceful sound of pain and proceed to leave the company of the Heart Pirates, decided a rest was in order. Then, she would undress herself to her underwear and remove what garter supported rags or towels were kept in place to stop the flow, before getting washed, switched, dressed in more comfortable clothing and hitting the bed.
In the bedroom she shared with the captain - rather the captain shared with her - but not in his company, Morgan would moan with the ache as much as she wanted, punch the walls, cry the tears that distorted her face ugly, throw curses and binge on whatever yummy snacks she had previously raided from the Tang’s kitchen, sometimes crying in-between bites for no apparent reason.
On this, the second day of Aunt Flo’s weekly stay, she was pigging out on ice cream in the most educated manner one could and thinking of Law and crying lonely tears that left her cheeks sticky but not red. One would think Morgan had a case of “the sads”, perhaps anticipating her farewell to him and the crew of misfits she’d learnt to love; perhaps listing all the ways in which she and Law were incompatible and how "us” was never meant to be.
In fact, Morgan was crying at the thought of how lovely Law’s eyes were, deep and piercing, and how nice his kisses were, hot and moist... All good things, all good things. Yet, thinking about them triggered the fountains in Morgan’s crystalline eyes as though they were bad!
When Law arrived, already delivering his report, Morgan worried not about her face, currently sticky but otherwise clean, but about being caught red-handed as she indulged in the sin of gluttony. She eyed Law with suspicion, waiting for a sermon - and how funny it was that once she had a priest by her side and he had never preached a thing about the sin of excessive appetite! - but fortunately for her, it never came. Law was too invested in his métier to exchange the white coat for the cloth. 
With hands tightly holding the tub of ice cream, Morgan listened intently. She would not let him make light of her troubles or poke some fun at the snack. With dignity, Morgan kept her legs crossed and her chin up. 
In a way, Law was not joking. 
He was her doctor, as he was everyone’s doctor, so long as she stayed around. Therefore, he knew of her health as he did everyone else’s - through observation and questioning of their lifestyle, examinations, other methods he deemed necessary. 
But Law also knew of other things no regular doctor did. For one, he knew Morgan’s body better than anyone in or out the Tang. He could keep extensive records of her breathing and heartbeat activities. For reasons a smidge selfish, perhaps, he also knew of Morgan’s cycle. During those days, she’d sleep next to him, towels between her legs and the guilty feeling she should not be sharing his bed in these conditions, dirty and smelly and every now and then kicking Law’s whatever as a reaction to a painful cramp.
Thus, Morgan was willing to believe Law’s speech to be real and justified at first, until he mentioned churros not much later. That was when she knew him to be joking. Again, while there was truth in the prejudicial nature of fried goods when consumed in large amounts, this was a comment merely made to mess with her.
 Had Law stopped there, no harm would have been done.
But the bastard went on, to spell words such as “anti-ageing” and “sweating”, therefore implying a worry about his lover looking wrinkly and flabby. To Morgan, these were big worries - that Law might not wish to live enough by her side to see her wrinkly and flabby and only stay while her physique remained young and firm... And if she agreed this was a stupid thought, for she was so much more than a body and a face, Morgan was still someone so used to being complimented about her beauty and thanks to it toyed with to completely dismiss the thought.
Morgan didn’t even hear Law’s made-up swear words. Another day, another time, she might have smiled and falsely played along, the way they did in those first weeks of their acquaintanceship. Back and forth, back and forth until either lost to the temptation of getting closer and taking the other in their arms.
But today, with Aunt Flo here to fill Morgan’s head with ideas Gossip itself would pay no heed to, Morgan was too distraught to face Law’s silliness with cool intellect spiced up with a dash of sexiness.
“Are you...” She began, brows not creased anymore, face droopy, voice failing. “Are you calling me fat?” There it was again, the ugly face, and with it more tears, pearly over pink this time. “YOU’RE CALLING ME FAT!” Morgan cried without letting Law explain himself.
So she cried, for real too, even if the noise made her sound more like a child having a fit at the toys aisle in a supermarket. She was too upset by Law’s harmless fun. Arsebagel indeed! Morgan’s loud reaction just had to be heard by the entire submarine!
She wanted to hide from Law as much as she wanted to slap him red as a bell pepper and just as swollen. At the same time, she couldn’t stand the idea of hurting her sweetheart and to cower would be unbecoming of a noblewoman. Go figure. Hormones.
She must have decided that, since the harm was done - Morgan couldn’t tell if she had decided a thing at all - she “might as well", because Morgan started pigging out again, this time giving no damns about her perfect image of womanhood. So what if she looked ugly to Law? He already thought her fat anyway. The mounds of ice cream inside her mouth could be seen melting over the warm tongue every time she left the mouth wide open for a harsh cry.
“You are! You are!” Morgan chanted childishly. “You think I’m fat... I may be chubby but I’m not... I DON’T HAVE A THIGH GAP!” She admitted in shame!
What a mess this woman was! It was sad how Morgan was incapable of delivering one of her witty replies when in a state of hormonal stress, therefore reduced to this.
“It’s because of that, isn’t it?” Morgan swallowed what was left of the chocolate kind. Her eyes were empty now, lifeless. “You do not love me anymore because I do not have a thigh gap.” 
For a moment, Morgan did believe Law was breaking up with her. Sobbing, she felt her heart break.
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jodybouchard9 · 4 years
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Paint a Path Into Spring: These Are the Hottest Colors for Your Home Right Now
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The days are finally getting longer (although, hour of sleep, we miss thee!), the temperature is rising, and we’ve even spotted some cherry blossoms and daffodils in the wild. Yes, after a long, cold, gray winter, we’re finally on the verge of spring. And with the change of seasons, we’re also feeling like shaking up our home decor.
Of course, one of the quickest, easiest, and cheapest ways to spice up a stale decor scheme is with a fresh coat of paint. But don’t run out and grab the first color that catches your eye! You’ll want to be on trend with whichever paint you pick.
Luckily, the folks at home improvement site Fixr have done the hard work of surveying 200 design experts across the country about 2020’s biggest emerging paint trends. We’ve rounded up those results—and consulted with a few experts of our own—to bring you this definitive list of the hottest colors of the year for every room in your home (along with how you can get the look).
If you’re ready to transform your home just in time for spring—and for any early-bird buyers who might be popping in—dive in to this room-by-room color guide.
Hottest bedroom color: Taupe
Photo by Southern Decadence Design  The most popular paint color for bedrooms this year might just surprise you.
“Taupe is the hottest color for bedrooms in 2020,” says Lauren Noel of Love Remodeled. “It’s reminiscent of the warm greiges that were so popular in recent years, but also has slightly purple undertones.”
Get the look: Noel recommends Sherwin-Williams’ Truly Taupe.
“This lighter taupe will impart a welcoming feeling while maintaining visual interest,” she says.
Bedroom runner-up: Lilac
Taupe isn’t the only unexpected warm hue making a splash in the bedroom this year; lilac was a close second, according to the survey.
“Both of these color families provide a dash of pink to a space without reading as pink,” says Noelle Lake of Paintgoals Interior Color. “So they’re riding the coattails of the huge Millennial Pink trend that burst onto the scene years back and going in a little different direction.
“I love playing with various violets in contemporary homes, because, done right, they’re clean and modern like gray but more daring and decisive,” Lake adds.
Get the look: Lake recommends an earthy playful violet (e.g., Farrow and Ball Brassica) for a master bedroom.
Hottest living room color: Warm white
Photo by Jute Interior Design  All that white that’s been having a heyday in your kitchen is moving next door in 2020—into your living room.
“The stark, modern look that white paint imparts is perfect for a living room, and allows furniture and accents to stand out while giving a clean look,” Noel says.
Get the look: Benjamin Moore’s White Dove has been a top-selling white paint for over 10 years, Noel says, and would be a great choice for a warm-white living room.
Living room runner-up: Warm gray
If you’re not into the all-white trend, this year’s runner-up might just give you the smidge of warmth and complexity you’re looking for.
“While cool grays were popular for many years, warm grays are currently the top choice among designers and homeowners due to their versatility,” Noel says.
Get the look: “Greige paint colors, such as Sherwin Williams’ Agreeable Gray or Benjamin Moore’s Revere Pewter, go with most interior design styles, can be paired with any type of woodwork, and coordinate with almost all accent colors,” Noel says.
Hottest kitchen color: Gray-black
Photo by Urrutia Design  Designers are getting funky in the kitchen this year with deep, sumptuous hues like gray-black.
“What’s happening in kitchens is maybe the most interesting thing going on right now,” Lake says. “It used to be that kitchens were all about being clean, clinical, sleek, and hyperfunctional. Now functionality is taking a back seat to a soft, sensual, strong human-centric romance that’s emerging.”
Get the look: Foster some intimacy in the heart of your home with a darker romantic color like Benjamin Moore’s Nightfall.
Kitchen runner-up: Purple-gray
Looking for a kitchen color that brings the romance with slightly less drama? Then you’ll probably love our 2020 runner-up.
“Continuing with the trend toward warmer colors in 2020, a gray with purple undertones is a great choice for a kitchen for the homeowner who wants a little bit of color,” Noel says.
Get the look: Try Sherwin-Williams’ Fashionable Gray for a lighter look with just a hint of purple.
Hottest bathroom color: Earthy gray
Photo by Heidi Caillier Design  Are you sensing a theme here? Drama isn’t just for the kitchen this season, with more and more top designers using the bathroom to make bold paint choices.
“I like to help clients embrace dark paint colors,” Lake says. “In a bathroom you can justify being a little bit daring”—and a deep, earthy gray does that beautifully.
Get the look: “I like Benjamin Moore’s Silhouette,” Lake says. “There’s a flower shop in Brooklyn painted Silhouette, and you would not believe how stunning every single plant and flower is against it.”
Pick up a can of this color, and stock up on flowers to make the bold, dramatic statement you didn’t know you needed.
Bathroom runner-up: Pale pink
If you’re not feeling dark and daring, consider incorporating this year’s runner-up in trendy favorites: pale pink.
“Pastels are back in for 2020,” Noel says. “A light or blush pink in a bathroom gives off a sense of romance and tranquility, and because bathrooms are smaller spaces, they’re perfect to try out a trendy color.”
Get the look: Try Benjamin Moore’s Color of the Year, First Light.
The post Paint a Path Into Spring: These Are the Hottest Colors for Your Home Right Now appeared first on Real Estate News & Insights | realtor.com®.
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pupa-cinema · 4 years
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Happy Go Lucky Heads - 言葉のあやや(Kotoba no Ayaya) - English Translation
それは言葉のあややや!!! この世は素晴らしく It’s only a figure of speech!!! What a wonderful world this is あややや!!! かくも美しいと Oh boy!!!  Oh isn’t it so beautiful あややや!!! 言われるがしかしそれは真だろうか? Oh boy!!! Or so they say but, is that really the truth? あ嫌嫌嫌 Oh I fucking hate hate hate this
浮ついた生活してたって 浮かべるようにはなれないし They say I lived a luxurious life, but I don’t feel lucky though 穴があくほど墓穴を掘っては穴埋めすんので骨折れそう I dig my grave so deep it opens a ditch in my heart, filling it in is gonna break my bones with all the work 君のためなら死ねるといっても実際死ぬやつはいないし People say “I would die for you” but in reality nobody would ever do so 目に入れても痛くはない 目に入った試しはないな A sight for sore eyes, yet it’s never come into my sight
朝もやの中で書き上げた履歴書 I wrote up my resume despite morning grogginess 面接の場所へ急ぎ足で参上 I dashed over to the designated place for my interview 服装自由 謳っていたが They said that any clothing was acceptable but 私服のやつは俺だけやんけ I’m the only one dressed casual, what the hell
垂れ流される文字に脳死状態 My brains been fried by the overspill of letters 自分で考えなきゃどうしようもない I can’t figure this out on my own 「10年に一度の出来」「100年に一度の出来」 “It happens once every 10 years” “Once every 100 years” 嘘大げさ紛らわしいものひっくるめ Overblown fits and lies, they’re confusing so just give me the gist of it
それは言葉のあややや!!!! バカ正直Stupid guy That’s just a figure of speech! Honest to a fault, a stupid guy あややや!!! 額面じゃない道理 Oh boy!! Face value isn’t the same as reason あややや!!! 行間も読めんなら生き抜くことすらNO!!! Oh boy!!! If you can’t read between the lines then your right to live gets.. a big NO!!!! 言葉のあややや!!! この世は世知辛く A figure of speech!!! It’s a cruel and bitter world あややや!!! かくも難しいと Oh boy!!! Oh it’s so hard out there あややや!!! 愚にも付かぬ脳と 自業自得の地獄 Oh boy!!! Oh your stupidity is unquellable, it’s the hell called karma あ嫌嫌嫌 Oh I fucking hate hate hate this あー嫌嫌嫌嫌嫌嫌っ嫌嫌 Oh I fucking hate hate hate hate haaate this ふるい落としの人生は 続いていく A casted out man’s life still goes on 他人を蹴落とし這い上がり続ける While taking advantage of others I go on, casting spells and crawling my way up 覚悟を持つのが大人と呼ぶのなら If being an adult is supposedly all about having a resolve   現世は綱渡り せめて自分の中の Then being in this mortal world is like walking a tightrope, I’d rather at least be 狡さを許さぬ化物でいい a monster, one that wouldn’t forgive my corrupt ways
それは言葉の それは言葉のあややや!!! バカ正直Stupid guy That’s just speech, that’s just a figure of speech!!! Honest to a fault, a stupid guy あややや!!! 額面じゃない道理 Oh boy!!! Face value ain’t reason あややや!!! 行間も読めんなら生き抜くことすらNO!!! Oh boy!!! If you can’t read between the lines then your right to live gets a big NO!!! 言葉のあややや!!! この世は世知辛く A figure of speech!!! This world is bitter and cruel あややや!!! 地獄のような壇上 Oh boy!!! Getting up on the alter feels like hell あややや!!! 誰かのせいにしたいが 自縄自縛ジレンマ Oh boy!!! I want to foist the blame unto somebody else but alas, caught in my own trap have fallen あ嫌嫌嫌 Oh I fucking hate hate hate this
Keynotes:
● “Kotoba no aya” means “A figure of speech”  -  “Ayaya” is JP northern dialect way to sigh or express disbelief, resemblant of "oy-vey” or "aye yi yi”. Merged together they become a pun!
Interview :
Interviewer: So, ‘Kotoba no Ayaya” was 324′s first attempt at writing an Omedetai song, how did that take its course? 324: The song itself also initially sprung off my idea for the title. Since it was my idea, everyone threw it back at me and said “Wouldn’t it be best if you wrote it then?” The only problem was that I, and us all, were still young and stupid back then, so we were enthused to add references to Matsuura Aya (An actor who’s nickname is Ayaya) but... Things, happened y’know… We lived and learned (laughs).  We realized the importance of things, how we must instigate humor which doesn’t involve targeting anyone or making them feel uncomfortable. Interviewer: Hold it right there, hold it! This is supposed to be an interview with a rock band!? (Laughs) (Everyone laughs) Interviewer: That sounded like a comment from a comedian who just lost the big M-1 comedy competition (laughs). 324: When adding homages like that it really must be nothing more than a sprinkle of spice. We mustn’t overdo it. Interviewer: If this was the old Omedetai, they would’ve done a ding-dong ditch without even a smidge of guilt on their conscience (laughs). (Everyone laughs). 
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chesterfieldstings · 7 years
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Full of Hell - Trumpeting Ecstasy - Review
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Full of Hell Trumpeting Ecstasy
Full of Hell (or Heck, if you don’t like cursing) is a four-piece band that makes some heavy music, yet slapping any sort of genre label (insert X-core here) onto them would be doing their music a disservice. Since 2009, these east coast dudes have been doing serious heavy lifting in pretty much every extreme genre you can think of right now, from the excellent grindcore/powerviolence essentialism of their earliest two albums, to the avant, sludge-terror of their collaborations with The Body and Merzbow. Full of Hell has morphed from the new school champions of powerviolence to an unstable, toxic chameleon of noise, which isn’t just impressive, but also necessary given the typically-rigid confines of genre that a grindcore band faces.
Trumpeting Ecstasy finds the band gliding out of what’s easily the most esoteric point of their career. Last year, the boys were chilling in the studio with The Body for a record that plumbed the depths of noise and despair: One Day You Will Ache Like I Ache. They toured in support of the anniversary of Sepultura’s classic Roots album, inflicting their signature brand of pain onto the unsuspecting, old-head metal audiences. Now they’re back in their element for what’s easily the most cacophonous, ear-splitting, and completely unsettling listen of 2017.
As its album cover would suggest, Trumpeting Ecstasy is Full of Hell’s 23 minute takedown of religion, which sounds a bit pedestrian given that religion is a remarkably easy target for metal acts to take down. Thankfully, Full of Hell finds themselves on the cutting edge once again, despite the familiar subject matter. The lyrics, while mostly indecipherable through the frightening, shrill shrieks and low growls, are impressively poetic; they contain a level of esotericism uncommon in such a piss-and-vinegar genre of music. This, combined with the menacing clamor of the instrumentals, makes this record as riveting as a great, cosmic-horror novel.
“Deluminate” kicks open the album with its one minute, death-metal rush of hyperactive cymbal crashes and tremolo-picked guitar riffs before growling its way into “Branches of Yew.” This track displays Full of Hell’s intent for the record a little more clearly. “Branches” fantastically incorporates the ear-piercing, tortured shrieks of lead singer Dylan Walker, causing the bass riff to stop and start accordingly. The listener is constantly jerked around as if strapped to a faulty carnival ride with a grindcore band playing in the background. Dylan’s vocals are only getting more and more unique as Full of Hell matures. Following up is “Bound Sphinx,” bringing the band back to their hardcore-punk shit and hitting us with the album’s first moment of catharsis; at barely three minutes into the album, this release is much needed. The depraved, sickening blasts of noise do make their music quite enjoyable, however, the sludgy moments of abreaction are the truest cause of throwing fists through walls.
“The Cosmic Vein” keeps with the Lovecraft-ian horror theme, and somehow incorporates an awesome tapping solo. “Crawling Back to God” amps up the horrific feeling with its incredible guitar leads and unmatched drumming technicality, finding the band once again in headbanger mode. “Crawling Back to God” in many ways is the antithesis of the record. It’s not just an angry finger pointed at religious organizations, but a rapturous feeling of decimation. This album is the equivalent of fighting every boss in the Dark Souls universe at once with no shield and a broken dagger as a weapon.
“Gnawed Flesh” reignites the band’s sludge-metal spark while “Ashen Mesh” is a downright disgusting, guttural beatdown. “At the Cauldron’s Bottom” ends the album on a droning note before evaporating. Then, there’s one final standout. The second to last track is easily one of the most idiosyncratic track Full of Hell has ever released. The album’s title track is an industrial gothic churn that features sadcore singer Nicole Dollanganger throughout the majority of the track. Her angelic, yet childlike voice is eerie, cultish and evocative, enabling the band to ensnare the listener into an unsuspecting beatdown. I hope to hear more of this sound in the future because there’s little to nothing that sounds like this song.
Trumpeting Ecstasy succeeds in being the apocalyptic statement it wants to be without falling into any preset trappings of theme or genre. Full of Hell cleverly laces it’s album with head bangers that play out nicely with the moments of sheer-noise terror. Full of Hell’s niche might still be too bloody and ridiculous for some of the most ardent metal listeners. They possess the skill to experiment with the grindcore formula, a formula that has already been perfected. There may be times where the band causes too much cacophony and not quite enough reprise, but nonetheless, it’s a testament to their talent with how well they weave between hideous noise and head bashing breakdowns. Most impressively, they effortlessly pull it all together. Sometimes, there’s a dash of black-metal, a pinch of powerviolence, and perhaps a smidge of Jane Doe-era Converge to spice it up, but no part of this record sounds like Converge, Nails, Charles Bronson, Code Orange, The Body or any of those dudes. It sounds like these dudes, Full of Hell, and seeing their sound so fully realized is a pretty sick reason to blow that ecstasy trumpet and bring on the end times.
8.2/10
Ecstasy Tier: “Crawling Back to God”, “Bound Sphinx”, “Branches of Yew”, “The Cosmic Vein”, “Bound Sphinx”, “Trumpeting Ecstasy”, “Gnawed Flesh”, “Ashen Mesh”, “At the Cauldron’s Bottom”
Ashen Tier: “Deluminate”
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