#and it's the double meaning of the title for me... had to pick something better for this than what it was...
Text
but i would kneel for you.
pairing: diana x albert wesker
words: 8.3k
warnings: nsfw
[read on ao3]
The noise outside of Wesker’s office was absurd. How this lot were a special forces division baffled her when they behaved like a gaggle of schoolchildren. Diana hoped they only acted like this when they were leaving for their lunch break and not when actual work had to be done, or when they were out in the field, otherwise she would now understand why Wesker got so many headaches.
The door to his office opened once the noise had quieted down and she turned her head to watch as Wesker froze in the doorway for a moment, the scowl on his face seemed to lessen once he recognised her and an amused smirk made its way onto his lips.
He took in the sight of her sitting on his desk in her usual pencil skirt with her tight-clad legs crossed over one another, and as always, she looked beautiful, mesmerising even. How she had managed to sneak in unnoticed with those heels was beyond him, unless she convinced someone on the team she had an appointment with him, but he doubted it. With a small shake of his head, he closed the door behind him then crossed the room.
“How was your meeting?” Diana asked, not bothering to hide how uninterested her voice sounded, as always when it came to his dealings with Chief Irons. The man was a creep and she preferred to stay as far away from him as possible, unless the city wanted to see their “great hero” of a police chief show up dead one morning.
He rounded the desk and her eyes stayed fixed on him, watching the way his jaw was set and brows knit together from her reminder. But he didn’t answer her, only slumping down into his chair, removing his sunglasses to toss them onto the desk next to her – which was an odd sight with how he usually treated them – before pinching the bridge of his nose.
She waited for him to say something, but he only leaned his head further back against the headrest and closed his eyes, and that intrigued her. “That bad?”
“He is repulsive,” Wesker grumbled. She couldn’t argue with him there, but she was still curious as to what had occurred, not that he could tell her anyway. Umbrella’s intelligence matters were classified, and his meetings usually weren’t typical “police” business. “The man believes he is more valuable than he is.”
Diana scoffed then, earning a slight smirk from him, but when he stayed quiet once more, she pursed her lips with a slight tilt of her head to the side and wondered what that could possibly mean. Perhaps he was asking for more money from Umbrella to keep his mouth shut, he seemed the type. Or he could have had another one of his temper tantrums over Wesker holding more power than he does – that the captain of a unit being run out of his department was giving him, of all people, orders.
His hands coming up to rub his eyes then down his face again brought her out of her thoughts, and her eyes narrowed as she scanned over the rest of his body, only to find that his jaw was still clenched and his shoulders stiff. When she wasn’t the cause of his ire, she found it bothered her quite a bit – another horrid reminder she cared for him more than she wished to. She hoped he wasn’t getting a migraine though, because the little thought that had popped up in her head as she made her way over to his office was back. Perhaps he needs a bit of stress relief.
Eyes looking over his face again, her gaze wandered down the slope of his nose, then to his jaw, admiring the sharp edges she so often loved to trace when they lay together. His neck wasn’t safe from her ogling either. If she didn’t have such a good grip on her self-control, she probably would have climbed onto his lap and pressed kisses over that prominent peak at his throat, down to the appealing dip between his collarbones.
A certain idea regarding the space under his desk crossed her mind, making her squeeze her thighs together as inconspicuously as she could at the sudden need for friction, but she was feeling too selfish for that. Maybe another time. She could annoy him in other ways though.
Wesker’s eyes fluttered open as he felt her foot brush against his leg and he lifted his head to look at her. Diana had that familiar teasing smile on her lips as she kept her eyes locked on his, uncrossing her legs and opening them the slightest bit, and she delighted in the smirk he tried to hide. Anyone else would have missed it, but she could easily detect the slightest hint of the corner of his lips threatening to pull, alongside the amusement evident in his gorgeous blue eyes.
She returned to trailing her foot a little higher up the side of his shin as she placed her hands behind her, leaning back on her arms and pushing her chest out slightly. Where was the harm in trying to rile him up in his office of all places? From where she was sitting, the easiest place to touch him that she knew was particularly sensitive were his thighs, but perhaps a little something else could entice him too…
He observed her curiously. It was quite endearing when she teased, however, he never let her go too far with her plans. Or so he thought. Her end goal was always to have him absolutely ruin her though – take her as his and leave marks that would remind her of their time together every time she looked at her body in the mirror – and when putting her in her place, he was doing exactly that.
Settling more comfortably into his desk chair, he propped his elbows up on the arms and steepled his fingers in front of him, holding her gaze. Her eyes lit up at that, pleased to see that he was entertaining her little game, and he found that rather cute. Her smirk grew wider, more lascivious, until she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth and slowly opened her legs a bit wider, making a show of it.
When Diana resumed brushing her foot up his leg, Wesker reached down and gripped her ankle, not tight enough to hurt – he’d probably snap the delicate joint if he did – but enough that it made her suck in a sharp breath as heat pooled deep in her belly.
“Don't tempt me.” His even voice was accompanied by a low growl as a warning, and that didn’t help matters much for her – body already reacting far too easily to his touch alone – and she knew for a fact he had done it intentionally, knowing just how much it always affected her.
It usually took a bit more stimulation to get him to this point though, especially if they weren’t already making out, so she wondered if whatever had happened with Irons had made his blood boil so much that he was more sensitive to her touch. Or it was the stockings. She found he seemed to have quite a liking for stockings.
The look he sent her way next was cautionary, telling her to stop before she got in over her head, but that only spurred her on.
She tilted her head to the side before reaching down over one of her knees, fingers lightly walking over the fabric before she hooked them under the hem of her skirt. She watched him suppress a smile because of her defiance, before his gaze shifted from looking at her face to down to her long, slender fingers, and she smiled to herself. After taking her time in pushing the fabric up to reveal more of her legs – giving him a peek of the lace at her thighs – Diana’s fingers returned to her knee before she slowly skimmed them up the inner side, a small sigh leaving her lips. She stopped just underneath where her skirt now ended and Wesker’s eyes darted back up to meet hers; the way they had darkened made her pulse jump and sent a shiver straight down her spine.
“I cannot stand you,” he huffed, though she could see how his hands were strategically placed over his lap, and a teasing smirk played on her lips. The fact that she had picked up on all the little things that made his body betray him was probably rather irritating.
“Is that so? Must be why you keep inviting me over for dinner.”
Diana watched his jaw clench again and for a second she regretted her choice of words, only because of the way he’d tensed up at Sherry’s inquiry into their relationship status a few weeks back, and she didn’t want him to think she was questioning if he had feelings for her as well. But when his eyes locked onto hers again, mirth mixed in with irritation, her smirk turned into a rather devilish grin.
It wasn’t often she got the upper hand on him like this. He was always teasing her or backing her into a corner, getting her all riled up, before he sometimes wouldn’t even follow through – just to feel proud of himself for being able to get under her skin. It was infuriating, the countless times he’d left her frustrated and distracted at work, knowing full well that she would be cursing him all day for doing such a thing. Sadistic prick, she thought. He seemed to always think with the head on his shoulders when it came to toying with her. Mind games were fun when she wanted to play, but she desired something much more rewarding for her efforts.
Leaning back on her hands again, Diana lifted a leg out in front of her, extending her foot as she gave her ankle a light roll. His eyes narrowed as he watched her, roaming up her leg and to the lace for a moment before they fixed on her own blue ones again. She bent her knee and placed her foot on his thigh, pressing her heel down harder than she probably should have with her stilettos, and the feeling of that set him off. He shoved her leg aside with his forearm then stood up quicker than she anticipated, positioning himself between her legs.
Wesker placed his hands flat on the surface of the desk, on either side of her thighs, and leaned down to level his face with hers. “I am at work.”
His breath was hot on her lips and she searched his eyes for a reaction as she brushed her lips against his own, only for a quick moment though, then she withdrew. “You’re on your lunch break.” Her eyes roamed down his body again, her tongue darting out to wet her lips, before she looked back up to meet his gaze. “Which I must say, there isn’t much eating going on here.”
Cheeky little thing. The corner of his lips pulled up in a smirk and he moved even closer towards her, caging her in, and her legs wrapped around his waist in an instant. Bringing a hand up to her neck, he pushed her hair aside then dipped his head to place a single kiss over her pulse point – the little gasp that left her made him grin against her skin.
Looking up at her again, he cupped her cheek, thumb gently stroking her cheekbone. “You really wish to do this here?”
Diana nodded, perhaps a little too eagerly. “Yes, I thought I made that quite clear.”
He let out little more than an exhale as a laugh at how harsh her tone was. Insolent is more apt. His fingers trailed along her jaw, thumb and forefinger eventually taking hold of her chin, then he tilted her head back as he looked into her eyes. “Are you going to behave? You must be quiet lest we get caught.”
Her brows furrowed then and she threw a pointed glare his way. “Would you like to remind me of a time that I have ever been loud?” One of his brows raised at that, the smirk on his face growing as he cocked his head to the side, silently mocking her for being too proud for her own good. Breathy moans and tiny gasps may have been what usually left her lips, but she has cried out his name on more than one occasion. For her own sake, she abandoned the topic, snaking her arms around his neck while holding his gaze, then she whispered against his lips, “I’ll be good.”
Wesker hummed at her obedience as the backs of his fingers ran down the front of her elegant neck, feeling the firm cartilage beneath soft skin, and his gaze left hers to follow their path. He revelled in the way her breath hitched when his fingertips continued a line down her sternum, over the top of her silk blouse. She was always so put together, so presentable, and he found himself admiring her more often than not. Truly a work of art.
Diana leaned in to claim his lips in a greedy kiss, obviously fed up with how he was taking his time, thinking he was drawing this out on purpose to annoy her, and he all but laughed into her mouth. All that did was give her the opportunity to slip her tongue past his lips as her hand went to the front of his pants, running over the thick outline trapped beneath. That gave him a slight bit of relief to the itch that was begging to be scratched, and he welcomed the shiver that went down his spine.
Once he’d pulled away from the kiss, he was in the middle of looking down at her thighs to push her skirt further up her legs when she gripped his chin and held him in place to look into his eyes. A quick break from her teasing, she earnestly asked, “Do you want this?”
“Yes,” he replied before she even finished speaking, and he pressed another peck to her lips. Her hands slid up his chest, adoring the firm muscle beneath his shirt, before she locked her arms behind his head again. The soft touch of her lips barely making contact with the side of his neck once she’d rested her head on his shoulder made him smile to himself. “I wouldn’t be doing this”—he gripped her thighs a little too hard, earning a small whimper—“if I didn’t.”
Diana scoffed, then kissed her way down his neck, teeth nipping when she reached just below his collar. The moment she sucked on the delicate skin, he resumed what he was doing before she had interrupted him, quickly pushing her skirt up, and she lifted her hips to allow him to bunch it up around her waist.
“You look lovely today, dearheart,” Wesker whispered, only reverence in his voice, and she muffled the moan that left her by burying her face in the crook of his neck. The low chuckle he let out went right between her thighs and she bit down on her lip.
The warmth spreading throughout her chest was almost overwhelming, ridiculous even. He always had a way of making her feel beautiful, even when they were like this. Maybe because he never looked at her the way her previous partners had, but instead like she was one of the many pieces she’d seen her babushka work on growing up, mimicking the way her childlike wonder had once marvelled at how stone could possibly be shaped to look so soft.
Before she knew it, Wesker gripped the backs of her knees and roughly pulled her towards him so she was sitting right on the edge of his desk, and she had to stop herself from letting out a small squeak at his sudden display of strength.
Dropping to his knees, the corner of his lips turned up as he ran his palms up her thighs, getting a good look at the sheer garments she had teased him with before. His fingers played with one of the lace welts high up on her long legs, and he smiled. He was used to her wearing tights most of the time, but this was quite a welcome change.
He hummed. “These are new.”
“Yes, well, someone ripped my rather expensive tights.” Diana glared down at him and he looked up to meet her gaze, the smug smirk she would’ve adored if not for the topic graced his lips, proud of himself for destroying her favourite pair of tights that she’d kept run-free for so long.
“They were in the way,” he said plainly. How her jaw dropped, even with the smile evident on her lips, and the way she laughed in disbelief made his heart beat a little faster. Every time he heard that melodic sound, he couldn’t get enough of it, but he always pushed aside the feeling it brought up inside of him. Admiration, surely. He pressed a kiss to the small amount of skin visible at the top of her thigh before he pushed her skirt further up her waist, kissing his way to the scar near her hip bone. “I like these far better. Besides, I bought you a new pair, did I not?”
“You could have just taken them off like a normal person.”
Her hands roaming over his broad shoulders were barely holding back from reaching for the buttons of his shirt. She wanted to get the offending material off of him, but it would take too long and he was already making her wait more than she wanted.
“And when have you ever known me to be normal, my dear?” Wesker held her gaze as he brought a hand in between her thighs, firmly pressing the pads of his fingers down over her damp panties, rubbing in slow, circular motions. She bit her lip in an attempt to not let any more noises escape her, and he chuckled.
Dipping his fingers into the side of the lace, he pulled it aside, taking a moment to look at how wet she was – how much she desired him – and it made him exceptionally proud of himself that he had such an effect on her without having to do much of anything. With his other hand pushing her thigh back, opening her legs wider for him, he leaned in and lapped at her folds. Diana held onto the edge of the wooden desk and he pulled her legs over his shoulders, making a breathy moan slip past her lips, and he stopped what he was doing, looking up at her with a warning in his eyes.
Reaching between her legs, she brushed her thumb across his cheekbone, noticing the way his eyes almost fluttered shut and she tried not to smile too wide at that. Looking down at him like this always made her head too big, it was almost like he was worshipping her. Almost. He was on his knees for her, after all.
She so desperately wanted to tangle her hand in his hair, but that would ruin his perfect hairstyle and he still had the rest of his workday ahead of him, so she simply rested her hand on his cheek. Wesker turned his head and kissed her palm, making those stupid little butterflies in her stomach appear, and she cursed herself for feeling something more towards him. “Just sex” didn’t last long, now did it?
“Behave,” he scolded her, reminding her to be quiet. She nodded fervently and he smirked at her blatant desperation before turning his attention back to her core.
His tongue circled that sensitive bundle of nerves and her mouth fell open in a silent cry, hands gripping the edge of the desk again so she didn’t accidentally tug on his hair. She watched one of Wesker’s hands pull the fingerless glove off of the other while his lips gently sucked on her clit, and she did everything in her power to suppress her moans.
He typically didn’t bother this much with foreplay in his former dalliances, finding oral somewhat tedious, a waste of time. He only ever cared for satisfying his need for release, though he did enjoy watching his partner fall apart because of him. That’s how it had started with Diana too, and he hated that it had changed somewhere along the line – that he wanted to make her feel good.
Wesker turned his head to nip the bare skin of her thigh and Diana let out a pleased sigh, one of her heels digging into the middle of his back. He ran his tongue over the small bite as his hand gripped the outside of her thigh before he sucked on the sensitive skin, and that made her head loll to the side as one of her hands reached over to lay flat on top of his.
His other hand – now free of its glove – came between her thighs, and he looked up at her while dragging two fingers over her slick folds after adjusting her panties again. The slight roll of her hips made him smirk, the action a silent plea for more, like she was begging him without even using her words, and at any other time he probably would’ve toyed with her a little longer, but instead he decided to indulge her.
Middle finger teasing at her entrance, he leaned in to kiss over the length of one of her hip bones. The little hum that left her lips was a pretty sound, not quite like her laugh, but not far off, and he seized the opportunity to push his finger into her, all the way to the knuckle.
Diana’s hand gripped his own on her thigh as she bit her lip and her brows knit together, trying desperately not to make any more noise. After a few strokes, he added another, and she quietly mewled at the delightful stretch. The quick puff of warm air over her cunt told her he was trying not to chuckle, but she was too distracted by the slow drag of his fingers inside of her, basking in the intoxicating feeling she’d missed more than she liked to admit.
It hadn’t even been three weeks since they slept together last – and they had gone longer between their irregular trysts before – but his fingers felt far better than her own, and she’d been thinking about him an awful lot. Her thoughts were cut off when Wesker’s lips enclosed around her clit again and she gasped, tipping her head back. She wished she could just grip his hair and hold him closer, but the last thing she wanted was for him to stop because she’d pulled strands free from how he’d meticulously styled them.
Swirling his tongue against her, he pumped his fingers faster, crooking them to brush over that sweet spot inside of her, and Diana forcefully weaved her fingers with his own on her thigh, holding his hand with a firm grip. That almost made him falter on the steady pace he’d built up as that unnerving tightness in his chest took hold. No matter how many times she did that when they slept together, he would never get used to it.
It didn’t take long before he felt her thighs start to tremble on his shoulders and her walls fluttered around his fingers as he drew her close to the edge. When a high-pitched noise caught in her throat, chest heaving and breath ragged, he placed one last open-mouthed kiss just above her flushed skin and pulled his fingers from her.
Diana whined at the sudden emptiness and the way the coil in her belly started to fade away, and her hips involuntarily bucked up against his chin, chasing his touch. He was such a tease, she could have kicked him in the head for that, but any annoyance she may have felt vanished the moment he slipped his fingers past his lips and sucked on them, eyes locked on to hers as he deliberately opened his mouth to make her watch his tongue swirl around the digits. She completely froze up at that and her own lips parted, from shock or desire, she couldn’t quite tell. Perhaps it was a mix of both.
He only watched as she gaped at him and that fed his ego tremendously. Making her speechless was one of the more entertaining parts of their encounters, though nothing could top the desperate begging. Every time he could reduce the ever-composed Dr. Sharp to a keening mess was a satisfying endeavour, and he enjoyed having that effect on her, turning her games back on herself.
Releasing his fingers with a wet pop, Wesker licked his lips and wiped his chin on the back of his hand as he rose to his feet, letting her thighs fall off of his shoulders and Diana’s eyes stayed fixed on his, pupils blown so wide that hardly any blue was visible. As much as he could stare at her all day, he wasn’t done with her yet. He reached out and cupped her jaw then roughly pulled her in for a kiss, instantly slipping his tongue past her parted lips so she could taste herself on him.
One of her hands quickly came up to grasp the nape of his neck, pulling him even closer, and a sound somewhere between a moan and a hum escaped her when their chests brushed together. He was taking too long with this given their circumstances, but he knew just how much the taste of herself on his tongue drove her mad, and he would never pass up an opportunity to toy with her.
Wesker pulled away from the kiss with a small bite to her bottom lip, pulling it between his teeth as he locked eyes with her, and all Diana could do was watch him as she panted into the space between them. She wished he would just hurry up and give her what she wanted, but she wasn’t going to beg for him here, not on the off-chance that someone heard her. She still had some of her dignity left, after all.
He quickly opened and scanned each of his desk drawers in search of a spare condom, but came up empty. Any other day he would’ve laughed at that, it would have given him a reason to deny her the release she was so desperately craving, yet the aching below his belt was nagging him as well, and with the amount of nonsense Irons was putting him through for no good reason as of late, he needed to find relief for at least one of his urges or he’d be in a foul mood all day.
Turning back to her, he watched as Diana leaned back on one of her arms and held her free hand up between them, the item he was looking for pressed between two of her fingers with a triumphant smirk on her lips. Of course she brought one, he thought. The confidence she had in being able to rile him up was annoying, only because it reminded him that she knew exactly what buttons to press, and her memory of the sensitive areas of his body or the situations that aroused him made him acutely aware that he wasn’t the only one playing a game.
A chuckle left his lips as he shook his head in amusement and plucked the condom from her grasp, and she reached over and pulled him close again by his belt, her legs hooking behind his knees as she did so. Her hands instantly went to work on the accessory in her way, unbuckling with practised ease before she quickly pulled the zipper of his pants down.
“You are rather impatient, dear,” Wesker teased, the arrogant smirk she had come to find far too attractive gracing his lips.
“Are you forgetting where we are?” Diana asked, rather snappy at that, and glanced up at him as she hooked her fingers beneath the waistband of both his pants and briefs, roughly tugging them down his thighs to free his cock.
The mere sight of him made that pressing ache between her thighs even more intense, and she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth as her hand wrapped around the base. The small sigh that left his lips was enticing enough in and of itself. It truly was ridiculous how much she desired him. Actually, it was embarrassing – that he had this hold on her while simply standing there, and it absolutely infuriated her, yet her body begging for more outweighed any rational thought that may have crossed her mind and she felt him harden even further beneath her touch from her firm strokes.
When he still hadn’t torn open the wrapper she looked up at him again, only to find him watching her with a strangely soft smirk on his lips, and that just made her even more annoyed. She let out a heavy sigh as her thumb mindlessly smeared the fluid at his tip. “What?”
“You are quite cute when you’re irritated, that’s all.”
Wesker expected her to scoff and roll her eyes, perhaps chide him for denying her release a moment ago, not for her cheeks to flush and her hand to fumble on his cock ever so slightly. That was intriguing. It wasn’t the result he was looking for, using such a word, but he loved how much power he had over her, that he could make one of the most collected women he’d ever met flustered. Anyone else would have gotten a look of disgust before she walked away from them for calling her that, but not him.
He finally ripped the wrapper open then nudged her hand aside to roll the condom down his length, and Diana rested her hands on his sides as she watched him. Cute? How dare he… She wasn’t cute, and he would do well to remember that. And yet her cheeks were still burning at the way he had said it, not quite teasing her but not a simple statement either. Honestly, she had no idea what to call the tone he’d used. Affectionate seemed too extreme, and it only made those wretched butterflies appear in her stomach again, so she chose not to think too hard on it instead.
Pulling her panties aside once more with one hand, he took hold of himself with the other, rubbing his tip along her folds as he teased at her entrance. Why he was so focused on toying with her was a mystery to her, especially when he already had her so desperate, and she rolled her hips to encourage him further while leaning in to lick a stripe up his neck. That got a chuckle out of him and she didn’t have time to react to the way he gripped her hips as he sunk into her in one fluid motion, making her gasp loudly into the crook of his neck, and her arms wrapped around his back.
Wesker ran his hands up and down the backs of her thighs as he gave her a moment to adjust, trying to focus on the feeling of her breath on his neck and the sheer fabric beneath his palms rather than the aching need to move. That is, until she started peppering small kisses across his skin.
Bumping his nose against her cheek prompted her to look at him again, but he only allowed her a second to meet his eyes before he captured her lips in an aggressive kiss, tongue instantly in her mouth and teeth almost knocking. His hips began moving at a steady pace and Diana hummed into the kiss, until he pulled out almost all the way before thrusting back into her, then her hands balled into fists as she gripped his shirt. He repeated the motion a second time, harsher, deeper, and her legs wound tighter around his waist as she arched against him, unintentionally changing the angle and making her moan into his mouth as he hit her just right.
He broke away from her lips to kiss a trail across her jaw then down her neck, his hips picking up speed, and Diana sucked in a sharp breath to stop the noise that threatened to spill from her lips. One of her hands kept coming up to his head on instinct and she was surprised she managed to stop herself just in time before those blond strands were in danger, so she settled on gripping his shoulder instead.
One of his hands laid flat against the desk as the other gripped under her knee, pulling her even closer, and soon enough his thrusts grew more forceful, sending warmth rolling down her spine, and her head lolled to the side with a moan before she could stop herself.
Wesker let go of her leg to reach up and close his hand around her throat. “Quiet.”
Diana nodded lazily before lifting her head to look at him through half-lidded eyes, her pleasure written clearly across her features, and he would bet she was trying her hardest not to moan again at the feeling of his hand around her throat like this. Wesker adjusted his grip, only grasping her lightly so as to not hurt her, then he pulled her closer to connect his lips with hers again.
There was no mistaking how possessive it was, a reminder that she belonged to him and only him, and she reciprocated eagerly, one of her hands coming up to hold onto the nape of his neck. Any reaction she would usually have from such a hold on her throat was overwhelmed by the way his hips were meeting hers, every nerve ending in her body already feeling as though they had been set alight.
He drove into her harder, letting go of her throat to cradle her back and Diana parted from the kiss to rest her head against his shoulder, breathing heavily against his shirt as every thrust had her gasping for air. Either her teasing had really riled him up this time, or the amount of pressure he was under needed an outlet. Whatever it was, Diana didn’t really care; she wasn’t complaining in the slightest as every pull was pure bliss.
Her heart was beating so loud she could hear it in her ears and her skin felt far too hot, warmth spreading throughout her entire body as his punishing motions had her muffling her whimpers into the crook of his neck while she clutched his shirt at his back. That is, however, until a loud thump brought them both out of their haze.
Diana couldn’t even be frustrated as the pressure in her abdomen dissipated for a second time that afternoon when Wesker slowed his thrusts to lean over her and peek across the edge of the desk, searching for the source of the noise. She could only try and stifle her oncoming laughter against his neck, locking her arms behind his head and holding onto him tightly.
The sight of one of his hardcover books that usually sat atop his desk, pressed up against the wall, lying open on the floor with its spine to the ceiling made him sigh. Surely some of the pages would have creases in them now, and that irritated him more than it should have given the situation. But once he looked back at Diana, he couldn’t help the chuckle that spilled from his lips as that strange warmth built up in his chest. She was trying so hard not to laugh, her body shaking against him as silent laughter took hold, short breaths warming the side of his neck.
Pressing a kiss into her hair made her look up at him, and he wasn’t prepared for the way his heart sped up at the sight of her – the way her nose was scrunched up and the corners of her eyes had crinkled, and how the indents on her cheeks had become deeper. Admittedly, it took his breath away. How was she possibly real? Amongst the rest of these chaff, where did Umbrella find someone like her? So beautiful, so… perfect.
Wesker connected his lips with hers while picking up his pace again in a desperate need to distract himself from whatever that feeling was, much preferring the familiar build up of his climax. But her smile was infectious, and he found himself grinning with her as they practically breathed into each other’s mouths instead of actually kissing.
Opening her eyes, Diana held his gaze as he gripped her thigh harder, the sound of skin on skin filling the room merely background noise to her as she tried to figure out what the look in his eyes possibly was. She had no clue, but it made her cheeks warm, nonetheless. Was it reverence? He sure was staring at her as though she was something holy, but he also seemed conflicted. The small glimpse of genuine joy she had only witnessed a handful of times since meeting him faded away almost instantly to his usual detached disposition.
The words he had spoken to her the first time they slept together worked their way to the front of her mind: You don’t have to hide from me. She so desperately wanted to relay those back to him, but she felt it would only make him retreat further, put whatever relationship they’d built back to square one the moment she made him aware of such a reaction.
She cupped his cheek and kissed him, capturing his lips with her own this time and despite the force of his hips meeting hers, she kept it slow. She wanted to tell him that he could smile with her, that he was allowed to laugh, be vulnerable even... Stop thinking about it.
Wesker’s arms wrapped around her back as he pulled her flush against his chest and she gasped into his mouth, an almost choked sob accompanying it. Her head tipped back as the pressure in her core pulled tight, and she bit her lip a little too late as a barely audible plea escaped her lips.
He watched her intently, as best he could given their situation, and he despised her for stepping foot into his office, for touching him when he was already wound tight, for even knowing where he was sensitive in the first place, but if it wasn’t the most satisfying thing to hear her like that, to make her fall apart. His peak was so near as he kept up his relentless pace, and there was only one word that kept repeating in his head.
Mine.
“Al, I need—” Diana was cut off by a particularly deep thrust and she buried her face against his neck. “Please,” she whined right near his ear.
His hands slid under her ass and he lifted her slightly off the desk to change his angle, making her sob as she wrapped her arms tighter around his back. The pressure in her core was almost painful with how desperate she was for release. So close, yet so out of reach.
Cradling her with one arm, he brought the hand of his other between them and his thumb found her clit, frantically rubbing it as he thrust into her. “Come for me.”
It was more of a mutter than anything, voice obscured by laboured breaths, but only a few more swipes of his thumb and she came undone. Wesker kissed her in time before she could cry out, drinking in the sounds of her release until she broke away to rest her forehead against his shoulder, and he rode her through her high, keeping that pleasure ablaze as he chased his own.
Her walls clenching around him quickly turned his steady rhythm erratic, and he gripped her hips and buried his face in her hair. It didn’t take long until he pressed his hips flush against hers and a low groan reverberated from deep within his chest as he stilled and every muscle in his body pulled taut.
Diana slowly ran her hands up and down his back, soothing him through his climax as she still trembled from her own, and he set her back down on the desk, leaning on his palms as he breathed against her neck. Her heart felt like it was going to break free of her rib cage at any moment and a breathless laugh left her lips. She barely managed to press a kiss to his temple as he lifted his head to look at her, and she gave him a small smile.
“Thanks for lunch.”
A short exhale from his nose left him in place of a laugh as Wesker pressed his forehead against hers, which made her smile widen. His breathing was almost steady already and she cursed him for how quickly he always seemed to recover while she was still panting into the space between them.
“You’re a nuisance,” he said, almost affectionately, then captured her lips in a sweet kiss, one that had her reaching up to cradle his face in her hands as her stomach fluttered rather obnoxiously. He pulled away after a moment to look in her eyes, her hands remaining on both of his cheeks, thumbs brushing over his high cheekbones, before he leaned in again to place a single peck on her lips. “We need to—”
“Yeah,” Diana interrupted him and cleared her throat. She let go of his face and quickly dropped her arms to her sides, resuming her position from earlier as she leaned back on her hands and tilted her head to the side to simply watch him.
Wesker reached behind himself to grab the tissue box off the top of the sideboard against the wall, his other hand rubbing small circles on her hip as he slowly pulled out of her. He took extra care in cleaning her up, like always when they slept together, strangely gentle no matter how he’d taken her, and she just looked on curiously. This tender behaviour, she couldn’t figure it out. Him. She couldn’t figure him out.
Reaching out, she straightened his shirt and helped him tuck it back into his pants once he’d cleaned himself off, and his eyes darted up to meet hers. The warmth in them almost made her look away, feeling more exposed in front of him than any time he’d mapped out her body. Her thoughts of whether there was a possibility her feelings were reciprocated or not were interrupted when he gently grasped the side of her neck, just under her ear, and his thumb brushed over the angle of her jaw as he pulled her in for another kiss.
Any tension that had crept up into her shoulders melted away as his lips moved against her own. It was almost painful when he was affectionate like this, like she was being teased with something that would get snatched away at any moment. It was the same story every time: they’d tease, then fuck, then be oddly tender, before going back to acting like nothing ever happened. She didn’t know if it was because they had acknowledged something was going on between them the other week, but things felt slightly different this time.
Diana let him pull away to finish fixing his pants, not feeling entirely comfortable looking him in the eyes after her foolish thoughts had gotten the better of her. The sound of him buckling his belt made her sigh, reminding her she needed to fix her own clothes.
Hoping her legs were going to work and she wouldn’t fall flat on her face, she pushed herself off of his desk, and he reached over to land a small, playful slap on her ass, earning another one of those laughs he adored so much. She glanced over at him while tugging her skirt back down around her legs and he cast a barely-there smile her way, one she returned as she leaned in and craned her neck to peck his lips.
The racket of his subordinates filing into the S.T.A.R.S. office alerted her that their activities had lasted far longer than she had planned. Sighing, she bent over to pick her heels up from where they’d fallen off her feet and to the floor, and slipped them back on, but Wesker just chuckled.
“How did you sneak in here?” Diana turned to him with a brow raised and he elaborated, “They were leaving when I returned from my meeting.”
The corner of her lips pulled up in a small smirk and she ran two of her fingers over the surface of his desk, making her way to his discarded sunglasses as she closed the distance between them. “Now that would be revealing my methods.” His eyes narrowed and she chuckled as she picked up the shades. “They are an awfully distracted bunch.”
Wesker sighed, the slight annoyance twisting his features told her that he dealt with that often, at least recently. She brought his sunglasses up between them, sliding them over his ears with a small smile on her lips while holding his gaze. He only watched her, curious when she eventually averted her eyes, but the smile didn’t leave her lips, and she slid a hand down to pat his chest twice before pulling away.
Picking her handbag up from under his desk, she moved away from him to walk towards the door, but what she didn’t expect was for him to reach out and gently take hold of her other hand, making her stop in place. That shouldn’t have made her breath catch in her throat, and she found herself just uselessly standing there in shock, staring down at his thumb caressing the back of her hand.
Eyes darting back up to his face, Diana only looked into his eyes as she had no idea what to say to that. Odd… She tilted her head to the side, but he dropped her hand and brushed past her, walking around the desk. Taking a deep breath now that his back was turned, she cursed herself for the feelings she had been trying desperately to cast aside. Confusing was the only word she could use to describe him – she wished he would stop showing her these fleeting moments where she could believe he felt something more for her.
Wesker rested his hand on the doorknob, looking back over at her and smirking to himself when he realised she hadn’t moved, not even a little bit. Making her flustered twice in one afternoon? That was unheard of, but it made him far too proud of himself. He cleared his throat and her head snapped to meet him, before she quickly looked away again, fixing her shirt and hair one last time.
That familiar dignified attitude had taken hold of her once more by the time she made her way over and stood in front of him, narrowing her eyes as she held his gaze. With a small nod towards the door, she silently signalled for him to open it, challenging the arrogant smirk that had pulled onto his lips. She wished she didn’t feel the need to run, but she wanted to be as far away from him as possible. It was getting increasingly difficult to ignore her feelings when he kept looking at her like that.
He abruptly reached out and she almost flinched, his hand coming up to the side of her head. But all he did was tuck a stray hair back into place, lingering as his eyes scanned over the rest of her, no doubt looking for anything else out of place that he could fix.
Diana lowered her voice and the corners of her lips pulled upwards, almost as though she was trying not to smile. You moron, don’t show him that. “I will leave you to explain this to them.”
The urge to pull her in for another kiss was quite annoying in all honesty – that he wanted to hold her close and talk about nonsense the same way they usually did after they had sex. As much as she infuriated him, he couldn’t deny that he enjoyed her presence, and the fact that she had the nerve to challenge him. It was quite an interesting game to play. He would never admit that she made him feel more than just fascination or some deep respect, that William was correct in assuming that he was utterly obsessed with her. It didn’t matter, it would go no further than that.
Wesker pulled the door open and Diana instantly walked past him, her demeanour turning entirely professional, and she made sure to turn towards him and keep her back to his team. The last thing either of them needed was for one of them to figure out she was connected to Umbrella and in turn compromise his position. Both of her hands grasped the straps of her handbag as she brought it in front of her while stopping to stand before him, then she gave him a polite nod of her head.
“Thank you for seeing me at such an inopportune time, Captain.” She let the mask slip for a second to wink at him, and he couldn't believe her. The fact that he almost smiled at such insolent behaviour was absurd.
Before he even had time to respond, she turned on her heel and left the room, the distinct sound of her heels clicking down the hall making him do the exact same back towards his office. His team, on the other hand, were not so quick to disregard such an encounter.
“Who was that?”
#sorry for this. reupload and tweak of start of lunch break with old wip wednesday from it included#setting: mid to late 1996. months after they start sleeping together casually every now and again // ahem. added a little bit of the spice#i faded out into last time lmao just a teeny bit. warnings for two clowns who are in their weird feelings era. she's only recently admitted#to herself that she has feelings for him and is coming to terms with it but he is denying his own at all costs <3 keeps telling himself he#is just fascinated with her blah blah can read anyone like a book but there's something about her he can't figure out and william is like#you're obsessed. you're literally obsessed with her... but he won't hear any of it#oh also diana was basically raised by grandma and spent a lot of time just watching her work so yeah small detail in there heheh#and it's the double meaning of the title for me... had to pick something better for this than what it was...#oc: diana#pair: ewskers#writing.
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🍿 If You Were Here
Summary: Feeling sad after your plans are canceled, Steve comforts you ❤️
Word count: ~1200
Warnings: Reader is feeling sad and lonely, but it's all fluffy and happy by the end!
A/N: This was a request from @loving-and-dreaming! I loved writing just a cute, simple comfort fic 💕 The title is the end song of Sixteen Candles, which plays a role in the fic 😉 Please let me know what you think, and, as always, please show love and support! ❤️✨
You sighed as you hung up the phone. Amy and Carrie had canceled your plans to go to the movies. Again. The worst part was that they canceled to go on a double date. You walked over and plopped down on your couch, turning the tv on. As you scrolled through the channels, you let out a groan and threw the remote to the other side of the couch.
"All I wanted was a fun night and a good movie," you said to yourself. As you sat there, feeling increasingly miserable, you decided to snap yourself out of it and just go get a movie at Family Video.
You drove off in your car, the night breeze already making you feel a little better. You listen to the radio and even sang along to a few songs, and then finally, you arrived at Family Video. As you walked in, you saw Keith walking around, organizing the videos, and you saw Steve sitting with his back to you at the counter doing some paperwork. Keith looked over at you skeptically.
"We close in ten minutes," he sneered. Steve turned around to look at who had come in, and he smiled brightly at you.
"Come on, Keith, we've got a VIP here," Steve smiled, making you blush. "Stay as long as you want," Steve winked at you. "Do you need any help finding something?"
"Thanks, Steve," you replied, giving a sickeningly sweet smile at Keith. "I was going to see Pretty in Pink with my friends, but they ditched me for a double date," you said bitterly.
"Well, that's dumb," he said, coming out from behind the counter, "they left the best person out!"
"Thanks, Steve, but I don't exactly feel that way," you said sadly. Steve looked at you with his head cocked to the side. He held his arms out and gave you a pouty face, making you laugh as you wrapped your arms around his waist. He rubbed your back and swayed a little bit. He pulled away a bit after and smirked at you.
"Well, like I said, we can't have Hawkins' best girl all alone on a Friday night!" he said triumphantly. "How about we rent a movie and go back to your place and watch it?"
"Are you sure?" you asked, your heart feeling light.
"Positive," he smiled. You looked at each other lovingly, both of you smiling sweetly, and Steve began to lean in when Keith yelled across the room.
"You guys gonna pick a movie?" he groaned, tapping his watch. Steve chuckled and looked down.
"Thanks so much for reminding us, Keith," he said sarcastically. He turned back to you and smiled, holding his arm out. "Come on." He wrapped his arm around your shoulders as you two walked down the aisles.
"Did you wanna rent something like Pretty in Pink, or do you want to go for something completely different?" he asked.
"I don't know, I mean, I doubt you're a Molly Ringwald fan.”
"Y/N!" Steve scoffed in fake offense. "Molly is my number two girl in the world!" he exclaimed, making you laugh. “Followed by you, of course.”
"Alright then," you giggled, blushing "how about Sixteen Candles?"
"That one was just returned," he smirked. "Let's do it!"
"Alright, let's," you said, pulling out your wallet. Steve held his hands up.
"Woah, no! On me," he smiled, sliding over the counter.
"Oh come on, you can't! I mean, you're already being nice by coming over."
"Well, you're nice for letting me come over," Steve smirked, leaning toward you over the counter. "I insist."
"Thanks, Steve," you said, blushing.
"My pleasure."
-🍿-
You and Steve left Family Video together, and he said he was going to make a quick stop. Relieved, you rushed home and cleaned up the place, grateful that he would take a little bit longer. You tidied up the living room, put dishes away, lit a candle and then blew it out, thinking you'd be too obvious, then fixed your hair. A new outfit or makeup would also make you too obvious.
Soon after, Steve knocked on your door, and he smiled brightly at you as you answered. His arms were full with groceries, and he walked over to the kitchen to set them down.
“Alright, I've got all your favorites here,” he said proudly, hands on his hips. “Your favorite soda, favorite chips, favorite candy, I've got it all.”
“Wow,” you said. “This is all so perfect, thank you, Steve!”
“Of course,” he smiled. “And, a movie wouldn't be complete without…” he pulled out a box of microwave popcorn, and you clapped your hands.
“Oo! Let me get a bowl!” you said excitedly.
“No, no, I'm going to pamper you, so just sit,” Steve said. “Besides, I know where everything is.”
Steve had been to your house plenty of times, so he easily found everything he needed: bowls, cups, ice, butter, you name it.
“So, you wanna talk about it?” Steve asked, leaning his back against the counter.
“Not really,” you said. “Is that okay?”
“That's fine,” Steve shrugged. “It's up to you, I just didn't know if it would make you feel better.”
“No, I'd rather not talk about it more, but thank you,” you said, smiling feebly. “Tell me about your day.”
“Oh, not much happening,” he said, pouring popcorn into the bowl and setting it in front of you. “Just the usual. I got up, had to take Dustin to school cuz his mom had to go into work early. I got some pizza for lunch, did a little grocery shopping. Then I started work at 3, and then I saw you, and now I'm here,” he smiled. “Simple day. This is the perfect way to end it,” he said sweetly.
“I totally agree,” you smiled. “Shall we?” you asked, grabbing the popcorn bowl. Steve nodded, carrying some more snacks and drinks to the living room. As you gathered some blankets and pillows, Steve popped the movie in and then came to sit next to you. Getting under the same blanket as you, he pulled you close to him so that his arm was around you, and your head was resting on his chest. You looked up at him and smiled, and he kissed your forehead lightly.
“Sorry, I got caught up in a moment,” he said, looking away and blushing, but you kept your gaze on him.
“That’s okay,” you said softly. Steve looked back at you again.
“I meant what I said, you know. You really are the best girl in Hawkins,” he whispered. He leaned in again, and he kissed your lips tenderly and lightly. As you broke away, you smiled at him, letting out a few stray giggles. You felt giddy, the happiest you had felt in a really long time.
“Can I admit something to you?” Steve asked.
“Anything,” you replied. Steve pressed his forehead to yours and smiled.
“I had been waiting a long time to do that,” he admitted.
“Feel free to do it more often,” you replied, moving in to kiss him again.
That night acted as a double initiation: the first of your movie night tradition with Steve, and the first date of many you’d have with your new boyfriend.
-🍿-
Taglist: @tillkummer @mlle-ayka @sonicthehedgedoggo @klaine-92 @aurumbelis @onlyangel-444 @beep-beep-sherlock @morishitoshi @onceuponathreetwoone @toomanybandstocare @underthebatcape @zeldaknight @fieldofsecretss @prettyinpunk85 @igotbasicdrag @gothicfaires @thatonecurlygirl @luvthatlovestolove @loliakeoghan23 @dearelliewrites @mslunawinchester @aphex2winn @simonsbluee @inkedaztec @dumplinshee @pastel-abyss-x @frozenhuntress67 @hawkins-hs @witheringawayagain @theshinyrock @hollandcomics @pinkgothiccprincess @persephone13 @katsukis1wife @murnsondock @fictionlandslanddreams @srapalestina @babyghouly @madformunsonsstuff @harrys-tittie @middle--fingering @urmomgov @maybankstarkey @jbetches @stardustmunson @maltinonka @chaerfull @middle-of-the-earth @lilsunshine1092 @thehairington86 @the-weeping-author @bisexual-and-intellectual @loving-and-dreaming
#staygoldwriting#Steve Harrington fluff#steve harrington imagine#Steve Harrington#stranger things#stranger things Steve#Steve Harrington x reader#steve harrington x fem!reader#steve harrington x female!reader#steve harrington fanfic#steve harrington fic#steve Harrington fanfiction#steve harrington stranger things#steve harrington headcanon#steve harrington x rea#stranger things fluff#stranger things imagines
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But you make my heart race (Prosecutor Hotch/secretary Emily AU one-shot)
A/N: This is set in the middle of Emily working as Hotch’s secretary since I wanted to keep the prosecutor/secretary thing going, I hope you like this little one-shot!
Title: But you make my heart race
Summary: Emily wanted to push his buttons, if only just a little. It worked.
One shot from my AU Chills on a summer day but can be read on its own.
Word Count: 3,1k
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Smut, dirty talk, power dynamics, spanking, rough sex
She’s been working as Aaron’s secretary for almost two months now, been sleeping with him for more than half that time. And she’s been having the best time of her life. Sure while they’re at work he can be demanding, pushing her for more, to be better, but she takes it in stride because she knows that he’s working twice as hard.
She wasn’t sure what they were, or where things would lead, but what she did know was that she didn’t want to stop whatever they were doing. It was something she hadn’t ever experienced before, how easy it was, how fun, how thrilling it could be.
It was carnal, exciting, the type of desire she’d only ever read about before. And then there he was, showing her the most unexpected realms of pleasure.
As she’s getting dressed that morning she smiles to herself, he had spent the previous night teasing her until she was ready to beg him for any type of release, and when he had left she had planned her revenge. Aaron might be in charge most of the time, but that didn’t mean that she couldn’t fight him a little for it sometimes.
He had spent the previous evening in her apartment but hadn’t spent the night because he had court the next day and wanted a few more hours to prepare. She doesn’t fault him for that, he’s a fantastic lawyer. But it was a case they both knew he would win, so she was allowed to have a little fun with him. Or at least that’s what she thought.
With that thought in mind, she capped her lipstick and grabbed her purse. It was going to be a good day.
*
“I’m off, I’ll be back late so I’ll probably see you tomorrow.” He says, stoic as ever with his briefcase in hand, his Rolex glimmering just under the cuff of his suit.
“Okay Mr. Hotchner.” She smirks, always enjoying their little charade at work. As she looked at him there was something suggestive lurking in her dark orbs and he raises an eyebrow at her. “Want me to pick up dinner for you before I leave for the night?”
“Not necessary, I’ll pick something up on the way.” He gives her a questioning look, the teasing smile still on her face makes him take a moment. She was planning something, he knew it, he knew that look.
“See you tomorrow then.” She winks at him and he feels the familiar pull in his gut as she spreads her legs just enough for him to catch a glimpse of her smooth thighs, the hint if a hickey showing. But he’s late so he can’t drag her into his office like he wants to. Instead he nods, grips the handle of his briefcase a little harder and walks towards the elevators, still feeling Emily’s heated gaze on him.
But as he gets closer to the courthouse he forgets about everything except the case. A case he knew he’d win. In court he was feared, superior to most. It made him feel powerful only adding to the slight arrogance that Emily would tease him about.
He’s watching the testimony, listens as the frail man on the stand tries to defend himself from what he’s accused off, and memorize what he knows is far from the truth. He can tell that the defending lawyer is starting to close up and he gets ready to stand up for his own line of questioning.
And then his phone buzzes on the table, Emily’s name flashing on the screen with an incoming text. He knew she wouldn’t reach out while he was in court unless it was important, she never had before, so curiosity gets the better of him and he opens the message.
When he does he has to do a double take, a low grunt escaping him that thankfully no one seems to hear.
It was picture of Emily, dressed in the tiniest underwear set he’d ever seen, posing on her knees in front of her bed, legs wide apart and one hand inside her panties.
Good luck today, Mr. Hotchner.
The large hickey he’d sucked into her thigh was fresh, meaning that she had taken that picture after he had left the previous night. And he was furious.
Then another picture came through, this one with Emily in the same panties, minus the bra, bending over, her plump ass arched up.
Aaron clears his throat, arousal stirring in his belly at the sight, eyes trained on the picture.
“Mr. Hotchner?”
He looks up at the sound of his name, and finds the judge looking at him with annoyance.
“Do you have any questions for our defendant? Or do you have something more important to attend to?” The judge asks, her blue eyes intent as she stares him down,
“Sorry.” He mutters, his phone landing on the desk with a dull sound and he stands up. For a moment he’s unsure what do say, his mouth dry as the pictures of Emily play on a loop in his mind.
“You- uhm.” He stops mid-sentence and clears his throat, he’s off his game and that’s never happened in court before. He takes a moment, centers himself and then looks back at the defendant who’s looking at him curiously. “You say you were alone at home at the time of the assault.”
“Yes.” The man says, voice steady and Aaron narrows his eyes.
“That’s not completely true is it?” The second the man swallows harder, Aaron knows he has him and he smiles to himself.
By the time he sits back at his table he knows he’s proven that the man in front of him is guilty and he feels confident. He looks at his phone and there’s three more messages from Emily, all more and more risqué, the last picture of her completely naked as she poses on the bed. He feels the dull ache of arousal settle between his legs, his cock stirring at the sight. He knows she’s doing this to rile him up, knows that he shouldn’t fall for it so easily, but he does, anger at her for trying to throw him off his game and arousal mixing.
He couldn’t wait to get out of there.
*
When he comes back it’s late but he knew she would be there, waiting for him. As he suspected the office was empty, almost eerie quiet as he walked through the space towards his office. As he got closer he could hear the familiar clicking of the keys on the keyboard and when he turned the corner Emily sat there, eyes on the screen but a smug smirk on her lips.
“Good evening, Mr. Hotchner. How was court?” She met his hard stare and her smirk turned into a grin. If it weren’t for the security cameras he would have grabbed her right then and there.
“My office.” He muttered, voice thick with pent up frustration. When she didn’t move a muscle he leaned over her desk, effectively towering over her. “Now. I won’t ask you again.”
Emily waited another second, debating with herself if she should listen or not, but she knew that she would only make things harder for herself if she didn’t so she slowly stood up. When she started to walk the short distance to his office she could feel him behind her and her breathing was already coming out a little faster.
Aaron closed the door with a soft click, but the second the door was shut all pretense of calm disappeared and he grabbed the back of her neck. When she hissed in surprise and pain, it was his turn to smirk and he bent her over the large desk.
“So you think it’s fun to tease me huh?” He growled against the back of her ear and Emily shook her head the best she could. “Use your goddamn words.” His grip tightened and she whimpered.
“No.” It came breathy, her voice trembling slightly from excitement and fear.
“Don’t lie.” He stood up straight, the hand not pinning her to the desk moving over her body, down to the curve of her ass until he reached the hem of her skirt. When he pulled it up enough to expose her underwear he snickered. “So wet already.” His finger gently traced over her damp silk and Emily moaned softly. “You’ve waited for this all day, haven’t you?”
“Aaron- oh!” She’s cut off by the hard spank that lands on one butt cheek.
“Let’s try this again.” He says, his voice suddenly much calmer, restraint she’d always wonder how he possessed making her shiver in excitement. “You think it’s fun to tease me?”
It’s a moment of silence before she nodded.
“Yes.”
Slap!
“You wanted to distract me while I was in court?”
“Y-yes.” She braces herself for the third slap that made a cracking sound as his palm connected with her skin.
Slap!
“You’re that desperate?” He had to stop himself from palming his erection, the reddening skin and slight whine that came from Emily each time he spanked her made him throb inside his pants. This time she didn’t answer, and he spanked her three times in rapid succession, making her squirm.
“Fuck!” She gasped but made no move to try and get away. She could feel her slick coating her thighs, felt maddening arousal each time his hand came down.
“Answer me.” He rubbed over her red skin as he spoke this time, enjoying the warmth that radiated off her.
“Yes.” She whispered and when he spanked her she pressed her thighs together in a vain attempt to try and get some friction against her clit.
“Yes, what?” He kept his grip around the back of her neck as he undid his belt and then pushed his pants and boxers down his legs. The tip of him was already slick with precum, shaft thick and hard and he slowly stroked himself.
“Yes, I’m that desperate.” Her cheeks burned with humiliation, sweat was gathering at her temples and when she heard the low groan behind her she immediately knew what he was doing.
“Pathetic aren’t you.” He spat the word at her and he saw her clench her thighs again in response. He knew how much she got off on being degraded like this, knew that every second he made her wait only made her more excited. Slowly he pulled her underwear down to the middle of her thighs, just enough to see the way her pussy was glistening.
“Yes, Mr. Hotchner.” She whined, her hands desperately grabbing onto the edge of the desk to keep herself from moving.
“Are you sorry for acting like such a slut?”
Slap, slap, slap, slapslapslap!
She cried out as he continued to spank her without pause and she had to shift her weight from one foot to the other to keep still.
“Yes! Yes I’m sorry.” She cried out, tears of pleasurable pain starting to make their way down her cheeks. When his hand didn’t come down again she relaxed, his hand now gentle as he rubbed her lower back and gently comforted her.
He waited for her to calm down, or to show any sign that she wanted to stop but she only gave a quick nod and he knew she wanted to continue. He moved behind her and pressed his front to her back, speaking right against her ear as he pushed her harder onto the desk.
“You think you’re sorry now?” He whispered menacingly. “Just you wait, Emily.”
Before she had the chance to reply, he was pushing inside of her with one rough stroke. He didn’t give her time to adjust to the size of him. He moved to grip both her hips, keeping her still as he set a pace that was bordering on too fast.
She grunted at the sudden stretch, her hands that had been gripping the edge now fumbling against the smooth wood to try and brace herself. The front of her hips would be bruised from how the edge of the desk dug into her skin, matching marks would be left by his hands, and she loved it, loved every second of it.
“Oh God.” She gasped as he groaned behind her, clearly using her body to get rid of the pent up frustration from the last few hours.
“There’s nothing I could do to you that you wouldn’t enjoy, is there?” He bit the back of her neck and she whined. “So desperate to please me.”
Emily could barely form a single thought, let alone string a sentence together. She felt him everywhere, her sole focus was his breathing against her ear and the feeling of him inside of her. She arched her back, hips moving back to meet his harsh thrusts. He had been right, she had been waiting for this all day, had felt the familiar thrumming of arousal since this morning.
The desk rattled underneath her every time he pushes forward, pain and pleasure mixing together and she sucked in desperate breaths of air.
“Aaron,” She whimpered, eyes rolling back as he rutted his front against her back, making sure to press against the heated skin of her ass. “so good.”
“You’re dripping onto the floor.” He taunted her and she felt another flush creep up her cheeks “Filthy thing, my perfect, filthy girl.”
Before she had the chance to say another word, Aaron straightened behind her, and she turned her head to look at him. He looked powerful, even with a wrinkled suit and sweat gathered on his forehead, his eyes looked close to wild, jaw clenched as he swallowed hard at the sight of her.
“Please.” She whispered, trying to get him to move as he continued to stand still, simply watching her. He smirked, the smugness radiating off him as he stepped further away from her, slipping out of her and she groaned.
“On your back.” He muttered as he rid himself of his suit jacket, watching her as she turned and laid back against his desk and kicking away her panties that were around her thighs. “Unbutton your shirt.” He did the same as she hurriedly got her shirt off, her fingers trembling slightly
When she laid back, her skirt around her waist and bra still on, Aaron stepped back between her legs. He slapped his cock against her clit, making her jump. The wet sound was bordering on obscene and he snickered and did it again. Then again and again.
“Beg for it.” His dark eyes flashed with something predatory at the way Emily’s skin blushed a darker shade of pink. “Beg me for my cock. Show me you know I’m the one in charge.”
It’s a beat of silence, Emily biting down on her bottom lip as she watches him as he starts to jerk his cock.
“I can easily come like this, leave you here unsatisfied and desperate, messy with my cum. That wouldn’t be a problem for me.” His eyebrow arches and he fists his cock harder.
She whines, something low and breathy as she wordlessly shakes her head. She couldn’t imagine not getting the release she had longed for all day, her body screaming at her from unreleased tension.
Her mouth opened and closed, the words somehow not forming, some of her defiance clearly still present. He noticed, his mouth pursing for a moment and then, so fast she didn’t have time to react, his palm slapped between her legs, hitting her clit with a sharp smack.
“Fuck!” She hissed, legs trying to close automatically but his hips were in the way. She looked at him, eyes wide in surprise and he only raised an eyebrow at her.
“Beg.” He said again, his shaft moving along her clit, taking away the sting of his slap.
“P-please.” She whispered but she knew it wasn’t enough. “Please fuck me.” She said louder.
“That wasn’t so hard, was it.” He cooed, his hand gentle as he caressed her cheek and then pushed his thumb between her parted lips. He sighed happily when she immediately sucked, her tongue pressing against the pad of his thumb. With his eyes on hers, he pushed back inside of her, filling her completely and she moaned. “Are you begging for my cock or for me to make you come?”
“All of it.” She gasped around his digit. “I’m begging for all of it.”
“That’s right.” He grinned, a low hum of satisfaction falling from his lips as he started to thrust. “Because you belong to me, don’t you?”
“Yes, Mr. Hotchner.” It was enough for her to please him, his thumb slipping from between her lips to her clit where he rubbed quickly, making her cry out.
He keeps her pinned with one strong hand pressing against her hip, groaning and grunting between pants as he picks up the pace of his hips. It’s hard, almost furious, the way he fucks her until she’s gripping the desk and her back is arching.
“Come on, let me feel you soak me.” He encourages her, his voice graveled and strained, his own pleasure building by every second.
She comes with a high pitched moan, her eyes rolling back and body trembling and Aaron groans against her chest. Her mind is still reeling, her ears still ringing when his hips starts to jerk, a telltale sign that he was getting close. Through blurry pleasure she grasps his neck and tugs his hair enough for him to look at her.
“Let go, so I can feel it all the way home.”
The mental image of Emily dripping of his cum on the walk home set something off in him. He growled, the sound raw and deep as he claimed her lips in a desperate kiss. His hips stayed pressed against her, his orgasm intense as his knees buckles at the forceful pleasure that rips through him and with that the last of his pent up tension leaves him.
She hums and rakes her nails through his hair, helping him come down from his high, her own thighs still twitching around his hips.
“I knew you’d like those pictures.” She teased and he chuckled breathlessly, giving them both another moment before he stood back up.
“I should have known you were up to no good after last night.” He smiles and pulls her up, placing a quick kiss to the back of her hand before pulling her into his arms and pressing a kiss to her lips. “You’re such a brat when you want to be.”
“And you love it, Mr. Hotchner.”
She was right, he really did.
#hotchniss#hotchniss fanfiction#hotchniss smut#aaron hotchner x emily prentiss smut#aaron hotchner x emily prentiss#hotch x emily#criminal minds smut#criminal minds fanfiction#aaron x emily#aaron hotchner fanfiction#aaron hotchner smut#emily prentiss fanfiction#emily prentiss smut
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Hello! I'm really enjoying your work! If you're still looking for prompts, could you maybe write something hurt/comfort or whump for Tech x Fem!Reader?
The reader throws herself in front of Tech to save him during a battle and she gets severely injured and Tech has to get her to safety. Maybe he's angry at her for putting her life on the line for him. But he's also secretly terrified of losing her because he has feelings for her!
Hello! Thank you SO SO SO much. The fact that you're enjoying my work means so much to me!
This one kind of turned into more than I had originally expected, so I do hope you enjoy it. It got kind of long...
Title: When Logic Fails
Content Warnings: Mild description of injury, Mention of Medical Trauma
Tech is knelt down, datapad connected to the Separatist Database, focused entirely on the high level data encryption required to complete the data extraction. A few feet away, you stand watch for enemy patrols. According to the mission intel, patrols made their circuit through this section of the base every 13 minutes. Time was getting short, the next patrol would be through any minute. You glanced back at Tech, “How’s it going over there, Tech? Another patrol will be coming through any minute.” You kept your tone even despite the feeling of urgency buzzing in your body.
Tech did not look up from his work, “The data is more heavily encrypted than our intel suggested. The encryption rewrites itself immediately after I’ve broken through, it is quite sophisticated-”
You can't help the slight curl of your lips at him but time was of the essence, “You can appreciate the quality of the encryption later - How long until the download is complete?”
Without hesitation, Tech responds, his tone confident, “7 minutes, provided there are no interruptions.”
“...Better be a quick 7 minutes.” You nod and mumble under your breath, as the sounds of the patrol break through the quiet. You take position off to the side, taking cover at the entrance to the server room you were holed up in. You wait, breathing deeply to center yourself for battle, then take aim, the shots quick and precise taking down the first two droids in swift succession.
The droids react quickly, blaster shots whizzing past you and keeping you on your toes. The alarms begin to blare and red lights flash down the corridor. "Tech! We’ve got reinforcements- We don't have much time!" You shout over your shoulder as two more patrols come into view. You can hear the sounds of more patrols nearing from the corridor’s on either side. You’ll be overrun if you don’t get out of here soon.
The droids are pressing in and you’re forced to move from your position behind to cover Tech as he works. You activate the energy shield on your vambrace, twisting your wrist to extend it’s size and rush to cover Tech’s back. “Tech.” You lean into his name, urgency increasing as you barely catch the blaster bolts with your shield, “It’s time to go now!’ You return fire, rapidly dropping droids as they press into the server room. But as quickly as you take them down, they’re replaced by one- two- three more droids. Where the kriff are they all coming from!?
“I am almost done- just a little longer–” He whips around taking out a droid that had slipped through your defense and gotten too close.
Despite the rapidly growing numbers, you seem to be holding your own, Tech occasionally pausing his work to pick off a few enemies. You toss a pulse grenade and hold your shield up to cover you and tech from the worst of the blaster bolts but you’re getting overrun. “Tech- we’ve got to go now–” You’re cut off by a sharp, burning pain in your side. You look down to see a blaster-burned hole in your armor. “Ah!” you exclaim as the pain doubles and you feel another shot pierce your chest. Suddenly, you’re on the ground, vision blurring at the edges. You hear muffled shouts, but you can’t process the words. “This will have to be sufficient-” Tech’s face appears and your vision blackens further.
You feel yourself being lifted up, pain shooting through your body at the movement. You register blurred movement, muffled sounds of blasters, energy build up, the corridor shakes and lights go dim. Then you are being lowered down onto a flat surface and you hear more muffled voices. Tech’s face enters your vision again, his brow furrowed. When did he remove his helmet? You reach a hand up to his face and mumble, “Hey there, Brown Eyes.” before passing out completely.
-
Once they have arrived at the Med Center, Tech worries, despite the positive prognosis from the Medics, and despite the continuously lowering chances of infection or other complications. He continues running calculation after calculation, creating contingency plans of increasingly dubious nature, but cannot seem to stop the sour feeling in his gut that she may never wake up again.
Echo observes Tech’s tense shoulders and uninterrupted focus on his datapad calculations. He looks over Tech’s shoulder at the calculation he’s currently working on,
“I imagine if whatever outcome you're calculating has a 0.0003% chance of happening, then you’re probably working too hard.” When Tech doesn’t respond, he sighs deeply, quirking an eyebrow, “So what is it this time?”
Tech’s eyes don’t move from his datapad, “I am calculating the probability of a negative reaction to the particular strain of Bacta leaves used here causing a bacterial infection in the blood, resulting in cardiovascular failure.” There is a unique edge to his normally straightforward tone.
“Kriff, Tech!” Echo huffs a startled laugh, “You’re worrying over nothing. The Medics said she would be fine, she just needs rest and a few dunks in the Bacta tank. You know that.” He places a hand on Tech’s tensed shoulder.
There is a long silence, Tech looks at you lying prone and unconscious, then his gaze returns to his data pad. He takes a breath to steady himself, “Logically, yes. I do. All of the data points are there and the probability of her worsening or not waking up are infinitesimally low…” He pauses then looks up at Echo.
Hesitation was not something he associated with Tech. “But?” Echo prompts.
Tech removes his goggles and rubs a hand over his face then speaks, “But– while logically I understand that she will recover, that she will wake up…That just… Doesn’t seem to be enough. And I am…afraid.” He looks up and meets Echo’s eyes- pain, confusion, and worry flashing quickly across his face.
“You’re afraid you’ll lose her.” It is not a question.
Tech pauses again, thinking, considering, calculating. “Yes,” He finally admits.
“She’s going to be fine, Tech. Really.”
“I know.” He leans back in his chair, the sounds of the monitoring devices breaking the silence. “But how do I make myself believe it?” His gaze falls once more to you, his brain battling with his whirling emotions. His voice is halting, unsure, “I have always trusted the data before. It has never been wrong, incomplete perhaps, but never wrong. I do not understand what is different now…”
Echo watches his brother struggling to put the pieces together and decides to attempt a logical approach, “Maybe you need to think of her as her own data point. She is the differing factor here, not your calculations or medical reports.” He waits, considering his next words carefully, “– You just have to trust her.” Tech shakes his head, confused. “You have to trust that she’s strong enough to come back to you.”
That triggers something and Tech’s face scrunches in anger, “It is my fault that she’s injured– She nearly died, Echo.”
“You didn’t shoot her, Tech. They had modified blasters - armor piercing rounds–”
“She told me we were out of time - but I insisted that we complete the mission!” Tech’s hands were gripped into white-knuckled fists.
Echo held up his hands attempting to soothe his distressed brother, “You are not to blame, Tech. This is war. These things happen. And she is lucky you were there to make sure she made it home.” Tech didn’t respond and the silence stretched on. Echo smirked, a hint of affectionate teasing in his eyes, “So–When she wakes up, don’t waste your chance to tell her how you feel.”
“I do not think–” Echo cuts him off and fixes him with a knowing look, then rolls his eyes and exits the room, leaving Tech to consider their conversation.
-
You wake in a panic and try to get up out of the bed, the monitors and cords tangle and you nearly fall over. Strong hands grasp your waist, steadying you and bringing your mind into focus. “Hey-hey-listen– It’s okay. It’s me! You’re safe!” The hands help you back onto the bed and you look up to see Tech’s face.
Your memory comes back in broken bits, you can’t seem to recall how you got here. “Tech? Wha–What’s going on? Where am I? What happened?”
He gently pushes you back down on the bed, speaking in an even, soft tone, “Deep breaths, please.” You comply, breathing deeply in and out a few times to reduce your elevated heart rate. Once he is satisfied you have calmed down, he nods and continues, “You are alright. We’re at a Republic MedCenter. You were injured – badly, during our last mission.”
Your memories come rushing back - the mission, the data extraction, the droids, and pain and then nothing. “Kriff– How badly? How long have I been here?”
He takes the chair beside the bed and pulls it closer, “Six days, but you are recovering quite nicely–”
“Six days!?” Your eyes dart around the room frantically, it’s bright white and sterile, making you want to shrink into yourself.
Tech moves slowly, observing your widened eyes and the spike in your heart rate from the beeping of the monitors. Tech places a hand over yours, his voice taking on a rare softness, “Yes. But, as I was saying, you are recovering nicely, the Doctors have said you will make a full recovery.”
You exhale, releasing a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. You rub a hand over your face, trying to cover wince, “Did we at least get the data?”
He reaches up and adjusts his goggles, “Ah– Not entirely. We were getting overrun and you would not have survived if we delayed evac.” He pauses, observing your face to gauge your reaction, “But do not worry, the data that was retrieved was sufficient. Our mission was still a success.”
You offer him a weak smile, “Well, I guess I didn’t completely kriff it up then…”
Tech shakes his head, “You are not the first to get injured on a mission and I can assure you you will not be the last.”
You nod, but cannot deny the twist of guilt in your chest. The following silence leaves you feeling antsy, “So, how much longer do I have to stay here?”
He tilts his head, considering, “I am uncertain. But I suspect another four days at least. With bacta treatments, that should be sufficient…”
“Four days– I can’t– Tech, I can’t stay here for four days!”
“Do not worry. I can provide mental exercises to occupy your time.”
Despite yourself, his comment brings out a light laugh, “No– That’s not– I’m not worried about being bored,”
“I see…” You can see the wheels turning in his brain as he processes the information, “Then what is the issue?”
You close your eyes and lean your head back on the pillow, “I just– I hate Med Centers…okay?”
Tech squeezes your hand lightly, “You are afraid.”
“Yes. I–” You breathe in sharply, “I don’t know why exactly. I just have flashes of memories… Images of Doctors with terrifying smiles. Voices, sickly sweet telling me to ‘Be a good girl,’ and then other voices, angry or disappointed–” your vocal inflection goes up as if in question, “I remember pain. Bright, blinding lights. The smell of medical grade antiseptic. Rhythmic beeping of monitors.” You huff out an ironic laugh, “That’s all I remember.”
“Hmm. This would explain your reaction upon waking up… It is quite natural for a person’s brain to react in such a way, as a means of protection from further harm and trauma,--”
“That’s why I can’t stay here, Tech.”
He offers you a small smile, “Unfortunately, you cannot leave. This facility is the only one nearby with the necessary equipment to facilitate your recovery.” You groan in frustration. After a brief moment, Tech asks, “Would it help if I stayed –with you?” His cheeks are slightly flushed and his next words come out in a rush, “I find it is useful to have another person nearby as a means of distraction when seeking to avoid certain thought patterns…”
You regard Tech’s earnest expression and feel a comforting warmth growing in your chest. You smirk and respond with a teasing lilt to your voice, “Distractions such as ‘mental exercises’?”
His face brightens and he reaches for his datapad,“Ah! Yes. I have quite a variety available actually–”
“Okay, Tech.” You smile, trying to hold back the tears welling in your eyes.
He considers your face and body language, “Yes… You are sure?”
You lean forward, ignoring the sharp pain in your side, to look him in the eyes, “I want you to stay with me… Please.”
You watch as his face processes your request and finally softens, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly, “Y–yes, of course.”
“Thank you.” You whisper softly, suddenly exhausted from the emotional journey as well as your physical injuries.
Tech motions for you to lie back once again, “It is nothing. Now rest. We can complete the mental exercises later. I have one, in particular, that I believe you will find quite stimulating.” You laugh and comply, feeling some comfort knowing that he will be there when you wake.
#Tech has Mental Excercises#rebelwrites#Tech x Reader#tbb tech#hurt/comfort#the bad batch#tbb#star wars fan fiction#fanfic#prompt response
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I just had a really weird experience with a dating app and I don't know what's real anymore.
I matched with a cute girl earlier today, and we spent a couple hours talking about our shared interests in podcasts and history and weird niche topics nobody else cares about. It was nice, and I asked her if she wanted to get lunch sometime this week. She said she'd like that, but then immediately changed the subject to talk about her job instead of scheduling the date. I mean, that's not TOO weird, I figure she must have wanted to say no but didn't want to hurt my feelings. Whatever. No big deal. We keep talking.
She mentioned that she works as a medical scribe at a doctor's office, and I said that that sounds like a wizard's apprentice. She said that medicine is the intersection between science and magic. I replied with a throwaway joke that chemistry is just alchemy with a little flair, and then shit went off the rails because she sent me a link to a pornhub video titled "We came at the same Time - Sensual Side Fuck" and said "me when someone tells me they're an alchemist."
A cute girl sends me a literal porn link after dodging the question of whether she wanted to go on a date, so I'm confused as hell. I don't know if this is her way of flirting or what, so I replied "I'd be down to practice some alchemy if you're not busy." I regretted saying it immediately because I never talk to anyone like that, I was just blind sided by the porn and thought maybe she would think it was funny. Well, after a few minutes she says "did you just ask to fuck me?"
Okay, I'm going down in flames, I crossed a line, that alchemy "joke" was inappropriate and creepy and she's clearly not into it and she's probably gonna unmatch me and block me and report me or something. I'm still confused over the direction the conversation is going, but I decide it'd be better if I apologize and go on the defensive instead of doubling down like a jackass. I tell her "no, not really," I'm not soliciting a stranger for sex, I was just yes-anding. She sent a porn link. What was I supposed to say? How was I supposed to respond?
Another few minutes pass. I was 100% sure that when I reopened the app she would be gone, but no, she finally replied "I was hoping you were..."
What kind of mind game is this? Is she just looking for a hookup? Her profile specifically says she's not! I have no idea what's going on.
"Did you just ask to fuck me?" My honest answer would have been "yes, isn't that what you wanted?" but the thought of saying that to somebody makes me feel like a douchebag. Her tone with that question didn't sound flirty, it sounded accusatory, like she was outraged I had the audacity to ask for sex so soon. My social anxiety is going through the roof. Whoops, turns out she actually WAS flirting and DID want to have sex, and I've managed to waffle it and sound like an asshole no matter what I say. Damned if I do, damned if I don't.
From my perspective:
Her: *posts meme about sex* (it's just a meme, nothing more. Don't read into it)
Me: *flirty memey response* (could go either way; I'm not outright saying I want to have sex with her, I'm just matching her energy. She memes about sex, I reply in kind because I thought it would be weirder go ignore it)
Her: oh my god, did you really just say that? Did you really think I wanted to have sex with you?
Me: I'm sorry, I overstepped
Her: mind games, dumbass! You don't know what I want, motherfucker!"
From her perspective:
Her: our conversation is going well, let me drop a big hint that I want to hook up
Me: picks up on the hint
Her: really?
Me: NO!
Her: oh... okay... nevermind...
So then I take a step back and try to see if there's any way whatsoever to salvage this dumpster fire of a conversation. I admit that I'm confused and ask her point blank if she wanted to have sex. I legitimately don't know if she was making a move or not, and I need her to know that I'm not the kind of guy who asks for sex as an opening move but I'm not opposed to it if she's the one bringing it up. There's no way to fix this. I failed at this interaction. I need to cut my losses, but somehow we keep talking.
She says, quote "I like making art and love. Sometimes at the same time, ya know?"
I say "do you want to make love?"
She says "we probably should."
I ask her if she'd like to get something to eat first, as was my initial date plan before the porn thing. Her response confused me even more. "I can't right now. I'm exhausted from traveling all weekend. I haven't eaten and feel like I'm gonna pass out." That reply doesn't make sense. It's Wednesday and she says she's too hungry to get dinner. That's when I noticed that her previous message ended with a period.
"We probably should," period. I scrolled back up through our conversation and realized that EVERY message she sent me ended with a period. Every single one! Oh, and some of them weren't even direct responses to anything I said, so now I'm 1000% convinced that she's a bot. I got tricked into talking for three hours with a bot, and I derailed the scam by rolling a nat 1 critical fail when it tried to sext me.
I ask "her" point blank when she wants to meet up, and it said "I need to eat first. Make food, not war, lol. Where are your top places to grab food?"
Bot. Almost certainly a bot.
My final reply, in the extraordinarily small off chance that she's not a bot, was to say it depends on my mood, before losting three or four of my go-to places.
"She" didn't unmatch, but she ghosted me. No reply.
Bot. Absolutely a bot. No doubt about it.
TLDR, I got catfished by a bot!
#dating app#bumble#tldr#tl;dr#catfish#bot#pornbot#sexbot#spambot#ai#I got played#i got played like a fiddle#dating profile#oh well#god dammit#long post#long#text#anecdote#my life#story of my life#social anxiety#anxiety#failure#crit fail
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Hi!!! Congrats on the 1000 followers, I hope I'm not too late for request.
If it's alright, I would like to request a scenario where Sebek, after a few months of being with his (preferably male) s/o, finds out that the reason why his s/o never initiate anything (never text or call first, never ask for a hug or anything, etc.) is because the s/o is afraid they'll come across too needy and ruin the relationship.
I don't know if this count toward angst or not so I would like to apologise beforehand if it does. Thank you for your time!
Croccy take the wheel, take it from my hand
Thank you so much anonn. I hope this didn't take too long to finish 😭
"Display of affection...?" Sebek scratched the back of his head in confusion. He's been absorbed in the book he was reading for the last hour. No matter how many times he'd play back all the moments you've been together, you've never exhibited any of the signs the book had listed. Not even once.
Nicknames, hand holding, resting your head on your lover's shoulder, saying 'I love you' in between moments. There was a tinge of shame that he felt well deep inside him. Had he failed as your lover? He followed the romance books Lilia picked out for him. He still vividly recalls the exchange between them.
"Master Lilia! I've come to seek your aid!" Sebek announced, rudely busting through Diasomnia's large double-doors.
Abandoning his ongoing meeting, Lilia turned to face him, his expression shifting from a serious one to a more peppy demeanor. "Why if it isn't Sebek! Ever-lively as always, I see," the Diasomnia vice chuckled.
"I... I need help with MC."
"Oh? Have you two been on the rocks lately?"
"No, we're faring smoothly. I need your advice on how to become a better lover! I want to give it my all, but I'm not sure how..." Sebek's voice became hushed. He was embarrassed, sure, but he doesn't want to back out. Not now. "I'm certain that with your extensive knowledge, there has to be a solution."
"You flatter me. How cute." And as an idea came into Lilia Vanrouge's mind, his smile grew bigger. "I've got a solution for your woes. You're an avid reader, no? There's this one book I've collected from my travels, I'm sure it will teach you all you need to know about romance!" The fae chirped.
The book was titled, 'Instructional Guide for the Romantically Challenged (For Dummies)'. A fine piece of work, truly.
"Sebek, you're going to run late for club activities." A voice called. It was yours. He knows that voice, even in a crowd he would be able to recognize it.
"Instructional... for the Romantically Challenged?" You dragged the words out in confusion. Looking past your puzzled expression, the subtle shift in your look told him that you knew what the book meant. You averted his gaze and tried to shy away.
It pulled him out of a trance. It pulled him out of the path he'd been fruitlessly circling. But now you're here, now he has a chance to ask you.
"You..." his attempt to give a serious growl ended up turning into a concerned whimper. "Is there something about me? Is it something I did? Or something I didn't? Something that makes you so distant," his voice faltered, surprising even himself. He didn't want to be seen like this, vulnerable, but he was.
"It has nothing to do with you," you took a deep breath.
"But it does. I'm your boyfriend. Whatever it is that bothers you, you can tell me," he looked you in the eye. "You can trust me."
"I don't... I don't want to be needy. I'm not needy. Sebek, I'm content with what I have now. If I push too far... no. I don't want to cross boundaries I shouldn't," you were shaking.
Sebek was at a loss for words. For once, since that day Lilia handed it to him, he shut the book. He rushed to your side.
Sorry, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you think that.
But the words refused to come out of his throat. He never knew. He should've known, he would've done something immediately instead of letting you combat your own anxiety by yourself.
Cupping your cheek, he now had the courage to speak. He now had the resolve to face this problem.
"I'm sorry. I should've known," he held you tight, he leaned his head over your shoulder. "Berate yourself all you want, but I'll never think of you as a nuisance. You're not needy and you're certainly not pushing too far. If anything you're pushing yourself away." Sebek closed his eyes for a moment.
"I want to face this... I want to face us. I don't want to run away from this. And you shouldn't too. Small steps, MC, small steps. You don't have to do all those gestures if you don't want to, at least not right away. We can do this together," he held your hand.
Your palm felt cold. He gave it a soft squeeze.
He faced you, determination burning behind the lush forest that were his irises.
"I am Sebek Zigvolt, a freshman from Diasomnia dorm and MC's boyfriend. Pleased to meet you," he declared, loud and proud as always.
"MC, the prefect of Ramshackle Dorm and... and Sebek Zigvolt's lover."
As if the words were sacred promises, he sealed them with a kiss.
#twst#twisted wonderland#disney twisted wonderland#gn!mc#gender neutral reader#twst fanfic#twst x reader#twst oneshot#answered ask#fluff#sebek zigvolt fluff#sebek zigvolt x reader#sebek zigvolt#lilia vanrouge#trust tgat riddle's going to be mad after this#what do you mean you lost track of time#and lilia's all ahh he's learned so much from me#while silver in the background's all father you know that thing never helped
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Side-note on Octopath Traveler H'aanit
(since I had an ask that I chose to make about her today)
I always felt like the title of her story boss lead-in track, "For Master" (師匠のために), was a bit of an outlier relative to the others and doesn't mesh quite as well with her (very well-done!) story arc.
Most other Octopath "keywords" that come in via the soundtrack are more nuanced in terms of what the character's goal is and what they ultimately achieve as a result of their quest. Olberic's sought-after "Redemption" changes shape from simply tracking down and beating Erhardt to finding the man truly responsible for Hornberg's demise, but in the process he redeems Erhardt as well and finds real redemption in fighting for a cause and freeing the town that Werner holds dominion over. Tressa's "Treasure" is something concrete she sets out to find in chapter 3, and achieves, but Noa Wyndham's hand in marriage the experiences on her journey and the diary she kept of them turns out to be the real treasure.
These "For" keywords are almost always chosen with a strong double entendre to coincide with the twists in a character's story arc. Like with Therion, whose journey for "Freedom" from the bangle turns into something that sets him free from Darius and his past more generally, allowing him to look for the future. There's a lot of the ethos of squeezing the character's journey down to a word that changes meaning with the shift in context between chapter 1 and chapter 4, which I love as a writer. Pick a single word which the story can grow around, such that its original meaning and the new contextual meaning shine together like interwoven rainbows from a prism in a sunbeam.
On one level, H'aanit is on a quest to find her master Z'aanta, then rescue him from his petrification curse, but her journey takes on more significance once she fights the dragon. She's becoming a legend, a master hunter in her own right, ultimately slaying the Redeye where Z'aanta failed, and ending up with tall tales to tell him. Her journey always felt to me like it was about becoming a master, and finding it in herself to become one, rather than just looking for a specific person. However, since she never finds an apprentice, the choice of "師匠", a master in the sense of an instructor or a teacher, feels slightly misplaced. Maybe if she had a kid aiming to learn from her in her chapter one, then she was finally able to go home and give those lessons at the end of her story, it would have landed better.
Alternatively, something like "For Quarry" might have been nicer. Since her quest starts out as a hunt for Z'aanta, then becomes a quest to slay the Redeye. It has the bonus of carrying extra nuance of putting Graham out of his misery once endgame lore drops. (Since that was something she did "for" him, albeit unknowingly.)
Other "For _" comments:
Primrose, who sets out for "Revenge" and does indeed achieve total and fairly satisfying revenge, is admittedly a bit of a counterexample. Albiet a slightly more bitter pill because of all that Simeon bullshit.
Ophilia, meanwhile, is like a weird case where the original text is weak but the localized version is strong enough to hold up. Her pre-boss motif is "For Light" (試練のために). The original text could more directly be translated as "For the Ritual" or "For the Kindling", but Ophilia's involvement with the church is as much about her family, her adoptive father Josef and sister Lianna, than it is a strong attachment to the dogma per se. It's a major character focus that her sister was supposed to be the flamebearer but Ophilia took over so she could be with their father. And in the finale of the Ophilia arc, the focus is on saving her sister, bringing her back to the light, much more so than on the trial of the flamebearer per se. In that way, "For Light" is great because it can be about the kindling, but it's also very much about bringing Lianna back into the light.
#h'aanit#octopath traveler#olberic eisenberg#tressa colzione#therion#primrose azelhart#ophilia clement#over-analyzing octopath arc words hours
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i think my meds have been making my already weird dreams even weirder because i cannot remember the last time i had a normal dream
some highlights have been:
-having someone over at my house and wanting to show them my signed copy of A Hat in Time, but every time i picked it up it would inexplicably morph into a copy of Travis Strikes Again for the Nintendo Switch. Except it wasn't even the game's actual cover because it had just been replaced with a picture of Mii Fighter Travis. Eventually I got so fed up that I managed to wake myself up out of pure spite
-literally just the entirety of Flipping Death except instead of her very much canon husband Regan was married to a character from another game by the devs entirely
-being lost in a hotel and being surrounded by these incredibly uncanny heads attached to really long necks(think the teacher from little nightmares 2) who would just watch me as I wandered the halls and parrot the things that people who had been lost previously had said with no meaning behind the words
ok yeah maybe watching a full playthrough of ad infinitum at about 12:59 am had something to do with that one
-that Double Fine released a Psychonauts tie-in novel that was just several hundred pages of Sasha Nein talking about why transphobes should die
-that I was listening to a dub of Survival Street except every line from Hippy had been inexplicably cropped out and replaced with Chandlo Funkbun dialogue
-that I read a Buzzfeed article titled "top 10 British people that deserved better" and #1 was "the one Hatsune Miku wouldn't talk to"
-that someone got in legal trouble because they were roleplaying as Irma from Survival Street in the reviews sections of random Amazon products
-That I wrote a fanfiction on AO3 where I shipped Penny Doewood from Flipping Death and Mariska from Lollipop Chainsaw and it got so popular that the website had to be shut down for 3 days
and one from last year or so where @eviltoxicmosssauce gained the ability to legally change my name to whatever he wanted and then changed it to like. pissballs or something except then he couldn't change it back so my name was pissballs for the rest of the dream
#most of these have been over the span of like 2 months#just felt the need to share this#gaige talks into the void#dreams#should i tag the fandoms mentioned#fuck it why not#survival street#bugsnax#no more heroes#flipping death#psychonauts#why cant i just dream about my teeth falling out like a normal person
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Covered Eyes
Here's a quick Bingle one-shot for Bing's birthday
Loosely inspired by @justyoursicanon's head canon on Bing's colorful eyes
----------
Covered Eyes
When it came to Egos and their birthdays, they could request one thing for it and everyone would oblige. Some of the Egos simply wanted a day of peace, be it alone or with their loved one and some wanted a party or gathering of sorts. The Egos got together fairly often, so that request was often the easiest.
Today was Bing’s birthday and he wanted a cookout with everyone. It had the same energy as any other time the Egos got together in the Iplier Manor’s large yard but there was a cake for Bing inside the house waiting to be brought out and enjoyed after dinner.
Google was at one of the tables set up across the grass, doing some busy work with pouring the chips into bowls, ensuring all the side dishes had serving spoons, and having everything in a logical order. He could hear Chase at the grill with Wilford and Dark, talking Robbie through how to grill hamburgers and hotdogs and he could hear the others further out in the yard playing some football.
“Mr. Google?” A young voice said next to Google. The title being used told Google that it was Blank without even needing to look.
“Yes?” Google was used to Blank randomly going up to him to ask questions. He and Mad were the only ones who were naturally blunt and factual enough for the child Ego.
“Why does Mr. Bing always wear his sunglasses?” Blank asked.
“I don’t know. He just does.” Google answered, handing Blank a few of the serving spoons and he caught on right away and started helping.
“Have you ever seen him without them?”
“I have not.”
“What do you think he looks like?”
“Most likely like the rest of the Ipliers.”
“That’s boring.”
“Sometimes boring is nice with how chaotic our lives are.” Google looked over the tables and was satisfied with his work. Everything was going nice and-
“Oh, shit!”
“Bing!”
“Get off!” The last shout stood out as Bing’s voice in the collection of sounds. Google looked up and saw Jackie panicking as he tried to help Bing up. “I’m fine!” Bing snapped, a hand over his face as he blindly searched for his sunglasses. “Just-I just need my glasses.”
“What happened?” Dark asked as he and the others jogged over.
“I didn’t mean-I got a little-I’m sorry.” Jackie sputtered out, guilt all over his face and looking like he wanted to cry.
“Jackie tackled him too hard,” Mad explained as Phantom guided Jackie away to help calm him down. “It was an accident.”
“These glasses are done-so,” Yancy said, finding the sunglasses. He picked up the broken frame and held the pieces of dark plastic that had been the lenses.
“Maybe Marvin could use some magic to put them back together?” Illinois suggested.
“I can try.” Marvin held his hands out for the pieces.
“Are you hurt?” Google asked as he crouched down in front of Bing. “I don’t see any tears in your skin or wires sticking out.
“I’m fine. I just want my glasses.” Bing’s voice wasn’t the usual cheerful tone. No ‘dude’ or ‘bro’, it sounded so strange to Google.
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Google tilted his head. “Did you damage your eyes? You still have them covered.”
“They’re fine.” Bing shook his head.
“Let me see them then. I don’t believe you.” Google knew something had to be wrong with how Bing was acting.
“You don’t need to see them. They’re not damaged.” Bing started getting up, hand still covering the top half of his face.
“Let me double-check, you can’t see your own eyes.” Google got more worried the more Bing refused to be looked at.
With the two being the only androids, they often went to each other for injuries. Their…friendship was odd at times, especially at the beginning of it all with their non-stop bickering but now they’re getting along much better, both being teased at times with how comfortable they’ve become. So Bing not letting Google do what they’ve done together for years had Google fearing the worst.
“Google, I’m fine.” Now that was the final straw. Bing never called Google by his full name.
“You’re hurt. You have to be.” Google took hold of Bing’s wrist and yanked his arm down. “Let me see and help you.”
“Let go.” Bing kept his eyes shut and he tried to pull away.
“I’m supposed to be the stubborn one. Open your eyes.” Google got a hold of Bing’s other wrist.
“It’s nothing!” Bing tried to pull himself away.
“Mr. Bing, are you okay? Mr. Google just wants to check you.” Blank asked and Bing knew he was doomed. There was no getting out of this. Blank sounded worried and Bing hated the idea of any of the kiddos being upset because of him.
“Okay,” Bing said with a sigh of defeat. There was a pause before he finally opened his eyes, feeling an urge to vomit from the sour anxious feeling in his gut as he waited for Google and Blank’s reaction.
“That’s so cool!” Blank said first. “Robs! Robs, his eyes are so cool!” He continued his shouting as he took off to bring Robbie over.
“Did he say…cool?” Bing said out loud to himself, a weight on his shoulders lifting off of them.
“He did,” Google confirmed, leaning a little closer to get a better look at Bing’s eyes. He still wanted to be sure Bing wasn’t harmed and saw nothing that would need fixing but he now understood Bing’s insistence on wearing his sunglasses. Bing’s eyes were bright orange, nearly glowing from their shine. “And he’s correct. They are cool.” Google added with a smile, hoping to help Bing feel better.
“They’re-They are-They’re-” Bing stammered, feeling his face getting warm.
“Those look sick!” Jackie said.
“So bright!” Wilford agreed.
“Very unique,” Mad added to the praises.
“If you’d let your boyfriend’s hands go, he can take his fixed glasses.” Marvin teased as he held up the sunglasses that looked like they weren’t ever damaged.
“Boyfriend? No-No I’m just-I was only making sure-we’re not-” Google was now the one stammering as he looked at his hands and quickly let Bing go.
“Thanks, dude.” Bing took the sunglasses from Marvin and put them on, hoping that would hide some of his blush. “Chase, is food almost done?”
“I was about to take it off the grill.” Chase walked off with Bing. Bing peeked over his shoulder as they went and he gave Google a soft smile. Google smiled back and lightly waved.
“You two would make such a cute couple.” Marvin was teasing again and he giggled at Google stiffening.
“Shut up.”
#bingle#veggie writes#i love the head canon of bing having bright orange eyes#and Google thinking they are the most beautiful thing
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I feel truly spoiled by the amount of fantastic fics I've been reading and bookmarking this month! I've picked out a few faves in this post -- not an exhaustive list at ALL!
Some of these were only uploaded in the past few weeks, some of them are several years old. If you read and like any of these, be sure to show some love to the authors in the form of kudos and comments.
Seven Words for Snow by Delphi
Sometimes when I read fiction set in the places I've lived, there's an familiar feeiling i get that reminds me of fanfic. There's something comforting about experiencing a place you know well rendered in fiction. Getting a double dose of that through Delphi's writing is a real treat in this fic as the main character (Wilhelmina Grubbly-Plank!) takes the train from Union Station along the shores of Lake Ontario -- a journey I've taken myself many many times.
In one direction lay the arctic, where she meant to summer if her funds would take her that far. In another direction lay the hospitable coal port where her first ship had docked, and opposite it lay the expansive wheat fields of the prairies, and the great mountains, and the cedar rainforests of the furthest coast. And somewhere, she supposed, was the way back to Ohsweken, where perhaps the milder edges of the very same storm were blowing.
I also recommend The Wolf Covers Its Tracks (All Us Human Extras Remix) (Werewolves in Banff! a Tragically Hip reference in the title! a deeply relatable explanation of the call of the void one experiences at Niagara Falls) and A Dream of Winter, which takes the odd line in DH about Kendra looking Native American and gives her a full backstory as a Mohawk woman from Six Nations.
Orchards by @whinlatter
How completely exciting it is to see a fic come up on @ao3feed-romione, and it's over 10k words, and it's canon-compliant, missing moment Harry/Ginny, and it's the author's first fic, and it's my BIRTHDAY? I wish I could experience reading this fic for the first time again. Something I really love about this moment in time in HP fanfiction is that there are so many authors (and I'll include myself in here, why not) who have such a deep connection with these stories. We read them at an exciting and formative time and they've stuck with us. And now, we're all grown up with grown-up writing chops and life experience and all the things that make us better at telling stories, PLUS years of thinking about these characters? It results in some of the most comforting and affirming fanfiction you can get. The nostalgic summertime vibes in this fic are immaculate, packed with some truly knockout poetic lines, and jokes I really laughed out loud at. After reading, I recommend the author's response to an ask which serves as a meta on Ginny's t-shirts in this fic.
Green Light by iota_after_dark
It's Ginny/Hermione smut! And it's sweetly sad, sensitive and hopeful. Hermione's status as the fandom broomstick (everyone gets a ride!) means Ron needs to be out of the picture and it normally follows the same formula: Ron is boring/stupid/mean/whatever; she ditches him; [insert character] steps in to show her a good time. In this fic, however, it's not Hermione's decision, and she's given the space to be a little mopey and sad in a way I find really refreshing! Also major points for my new favourite tag "Hermione wears a going out top (it's 2001!)". I've recced it before on my tumblr, but be sure to check out Essential Lessons from this author as well, a Romione fic that balances goofiness and sweetness so well.
Vetus Amicus by @floreatcastellumposts
What a beautiful parting gift to the fandom from Flo. I cried several times reading this.
alone now by Kyra
A short ficlet about Hermione's mother in Australia and memory, very powerful.
Love by @indigo-scarf
I loved this exploration of Blaise and his relationship with his mother. PS be sure to check out everything in the @harrypocter Winter Sun drabble collection -- if I recced everything I would be here all day, everything in that collection is worth your time.
the good sleep better by honey_wheeler
This is an old one, and I was sure I've read every immediately-post-battle fic there is but somehow this one slipped by me. I'm comfortable calling this one of the best, it has such a great balance of delirious humour and depth that such a moment deserves.
a louisville slugger to both headlights by @pebblysand
Okay so up there ⬆️ I had mentioned that reading a fic felt like a gift specifically for me, but then last week I got an email from Ao3 that there was a gift waiting for me and it was this fic! Jo took my stupid semi-viral post about Harry's wife Sheila and RAN with it, constructing a whole new OC and a really convincing and heartwarming world where Harry and Ginny are divorced. And Harry has married a woman named Sheila. Who he met at work. All of the meta references here tickled me so much... if you want more of my thoughts there is a massive comment I spent 40 minutes (I timed myself) writing. This is so so special to me.
The Last Enemy: The Howling Nights by @chdarling, podfic by ShootWithIntentToKill
This WIP podfic is a perfect way to reread TLE during the TLE2 hiatus. Every chapter is around 10-30 minutes long, which makes it slot perfectly into a my weekly cleaning/chores podcast rotation. Slowing down to listen to the podfic means I'm catching sooo much foreshadowing and references this time around and I love the voices the narrator has chosen for the characters, Lily and Sirius are my favourites. I love having this pod keep me company.
I hope to do this for each month going forward - I doubt other months will be this intense (I didn't read a single book this month lol) but there are always a few new and old faves I discover or revisit each month. Once again, leave a comment or kudos on these fics if you liked them!
#monthly fic recs#fic recs#jily#hinny#romione#ginmione#blaise zabini#harry potter#hermione granger#ginny weasley#ron weasley#hp fanfic
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IDW Sonic Rewriting: Tangle, Listen!
The scope of this is beyond my panel editing capabilities.
Lanolin: "How can you be so sure?"
Tangle: "Because we're the Diamond Cutters! We are awesome! And we never give up! Right, Whisper?"
Whisper: "Why?"
Tangle: "Why what?"
Whisper: "Don't pretend you don't know what's wrong. Why are we using that name?"
Tangle: "You mean "Diamond Cutters"?"
Whisper: "Yes! You know what that name means to me. I showed you everything. You've learned what i've been through. It's not a label you can just slap onto something willy-nilly, especially without asking me about it."
Lanolin: "It's just a name, right?"
Tangle: "A great name!"
Whisper: "Was that your whole takeaway from me sharing my painful experience? How "awesome" it all was? Not the hardship, the betrayal, my team, my friends, whom I loved? And lost?"
Tangle: (gasps) "I forgot."
Lanolin: "Wait, "betrayal"? "Lost"? When Tangle said "former team", I thought you meant they disbanded after the war."
Whisper: "No. One of them double-crossed us. The rest were killed."
Lanolin: "They're dead?! You guys knew this, and never told me?!"
Tangle: (pauses)
Lanolin: "I'm sorry, Whisper. If I had the whole context, I never would've agreed to that title."
Tangle: "I thought... you'd like... I never... I..."
Whisper: "Just say it."
Tangle: (crying) "I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to insult their memory! I just loved how cool and noble your old teammates were! You were the closest of friends! I wanted that for us, so we wouldn't drift apart again! You're my best friend, Whisper! I should've known better than to take that for granted! I got caught up in the moment, like a frivolous idiot, and ignored your feelings! So, if it'll make you feel better, I won't use the name "Diamond Cutters" ever again!"
Lanolin: "Neither of us will. And we'll remind Sonic to drop it, too, if we get out of here."
Whisper: "Good intentions won't make me forget what I suffered. But looking back, i've been a little selfish because of that. I focused so hard on finishing the mission, I thought I had no time to open up to you. All this concern about my past coming back to haunt me again and again, and I didn't trust a friend to help me confront it. Despite that, long after my old team was gone, whenever I tried to walk away, everyone has been around to support me. Sonic. Tails. Belle. The Wisps. And you. The only one who hasn't been helping everyone is... myself."
Lanolin: "I don't know the whole story, but if you were betrayed and had to watch loved ones die, I'd understand having trouble trusting, or getting close, to others again."
Whisper: "No. What the traitor did was nobody's fault but his own. You? The Restoration? None of you had anything to do with him! If i'm ever going to get past how he hurt me, I need to protect my new team, and let you all protect me. I can't... I won't let the fear he struck poison me any longer!"
Tangle: (meekly, from under her coiled tail) "Sooo... apology accepted?"
Whisper: "Yes, Tangle. |... am also sorry. No more cold shoulders or silent treatment. Still, fully moving on will be a slow process. Can you be patient with me?"
Lanolin: "I can be if you'll be patient with a newbie like me."
Tangle: (muffled, overjoyed speech)
Whisper: "I know. I can. I will."
Lanolin: "So, what should we call this team? You can pick this time, Whisper."
Whisper: "How about... the "Trilliant Vertices"?"
Tangle: "Cool! I like that!"
Lanolin: "Not to sound like a smart aleck, but isn't that a bit on the nose?"
Whisper: (chuckles lightly) "A bit, I guess, but my fallen allies would be honoured to have inspired a successor, continuing their cause."
And so, the Diamond Cutters title was put to rest, along with Smithy the Lion, Slinger the Ocelot and Clair Voyance. No longer would Whisper's new circle of friends be replacements in a departed unit, but the founders of a whole new force that paid tribute to all they stood and fought for. The trio of Whisper, Tangle and Lanolin shall continue and finish the vitally important mission that began so long ago with four freedom fighters (and the turncoat who'd become a deadly nemesis). March forward, Trilliant Vertices!
@darklightheart
@crusherthedoctor
@randomthefox
@aquillis-main
@kinopioa
@ninjapotatohead
#sonic the hedgehog#idw sonic#comic books#idw publishing#tangle the lemur#whisper the wolf#lanolin the sheep#rewriting#spoilers#idw sonic spoilers
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Bright Lights [Chapter 4] [Small Spaces Sequel]
Title: Bright Lights [Chapter 4] [Small Spaces Sequel]
Synopsis: It's the morning of the field trip, and Sam is anxious about getting caught. Her grandpa Roger seems preoccupied by worries.
notes: so many "ayyyyy!! that's the thing from the thing!" moments here. Circus starts next chapter :)))
A03 CHAPTER LINK
On the morning of the field trip, Sam set her alarm early to make sure she got up before her mom thought about knocking on her door. That way, she wouldn’t have to worry about her mom sitting on the edge of her bed and attempting to smooth things over again. She’d tried that the last few days, and had only given up each morning after Sam would only mutter one-word answers and then say she had to get ready for school.
Today, however, Sam didn’t want to deal with the heavy feeling of guilt in her chest that came with the sad, pitiful look on her mom’s face in the mornings. She wanted to feel light and happy and yes, a little afraid, but in a way that made her feel giddy. Like she was walking a tightrope in her dreams or sneaking out past curfew.
It wasn’t so bad, was it? She was just going on a field trip. Maybe she could even tell her mom about it years later, and it’d be something they would laugh about. A confession far in the future over brunch. ‘Remember when you wouldn’t let me go on field trips? Well…’
For now, though, it was a secret. Top secret. She didn’t even tell her grandpa, and she told him most things. But he would definitely tell her mom. Not because he agreed with her being so overprotective, but because he thought talking it out was always a better solution than keeping secrets.
He just didn’t understand how weird her mom was about all this.
Sam sighed and pulled her hair into a ponytail, which she topped with a red and black Harley Quinn scrunchie Elisa had picked up online. Sam wanted to dress up ridiculously cute for the circus, but it might make her mom suspicious if she went from wearing whatever she could throw on quick enough for the past few days and suddenly came downstairs all glammed up.
So, her outfit was more laid back than she wanted it. A plain black dress with a light gray sweater underneath. The scrunchy was her compromise in terms of flashy, cute color. It was sort of circus-themed. Well, Harley Quinn themed, but that was close enough. Besides, it didn’t really matter what she wore to the circus. She was just excited--and scared--to go in the first place.
It would only be an hour or so, and she’d be on her way.
She glanced down at her phone to double check the time and saw a missed call from her dad. He called twice… at 3 AM. He must have forgotten about the time zone difference--again.
Her dad didn’t used to travel. But his new job made him go all over the place. He told her that once he got a promotion, he’d be able to pick one spot and settle down. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that. Would it mean getting shuffled in between her mom and dad’s all the time? Would her mom be mad if she wanted to have Christmas with her dad one year? Would her dad be mad if she decided to stay in Evansburg because of school and friends?
She wished they didn’t get divorced. I mean, most kids wished that, didn’t they? But they had been happy, before. It wasn’t like they’d fought all the time or anything. They both worked and took care of her. Sometimes her dad left dishes in the sink too long and sometimes her mom was reading a book when her dad was talking to her. But every couple had problems like that, right? They always apologized in the end. It wasn’t a big deal.
But then grandpa had his stroke and everything seemed to fall apart. Her parent’s marriage. Her life.
Sam chewed on the inside of her lip and shoved all those thoughts where she couldn’t reach them for a while. Today wasn’t a day to think about that.
Today was a day to go to the circus.
--
Breakfast was a quiet affair, even though grandpa Roger was up and about and had made Sam her favorite breakfast in the entire world: chocolate chip pancakes with homemade butter and a side of bacon and eggs.
“For extra protein,” Roger had said, giving Sam a smile when he plated up her dish.
She ate heartily, despite the knot in her stomach. It wasn’t a certainty if that awful little knot was tightening because of guilt, fear of getting caught, or a healthy dose of both. Although her desire to get out of the house as quickly as possible definitely helped speed her appetite along.
As soon as I get on that bus, I’ll stop feeling so worried, Sam thought. She’d sit by Elisa and Owen and they’d be all smiles because she, Samantha Adler, was finally going on a field trip with them. They’d get to the circus, have a great time, and get back to school with no one the wiser about what she’d done. She could make up with her mom after school and things would go back to normal.
Easy-peasy, lemon-squeezy.
When she was done with breakfast, Sam dropped her dishes in the sink and grabbed her backpack in a rush to get out the door.
“Sam?”
Sam froze. It was her grandpa, not her mom, who called out.
She turned, smiling. Grandpa Roger was standing in the entryway with an almost remote expression on his face. He looked worried. Or tired, maybe.
He held out her lunch bag. She didn’t always bring it, since her school had started serving free hot lunches, but she kept it in just in case she wanted to bring something in.
“You didn’t have to, grandpa,” she said. There was a little pang of guilt in her chest. He got up early to make her favorite breakfast and he packed her a lunch? He was probably trying to make her feel better because she wasn’t going to the circus.
Roger’s eyes looked far away as Sam took the lunch box. He rubbed his hands and Sam looked down to see him rubbing the scar in between his thumb and forefinger. Back-and-forth, back-and-forth It had always been there, but she didn’t know where it came from.
“Just felt like you might need something special today,” he said slowly.
Sam forced a smile and choked down her guilt. She gave him a kiss on the cheek. “Okay, grandpa. Thank you. I love you.”
She turned to leave–
“Sam.” This time, it was her mom, standing in the open doorway that led to the kitchen.
Sam looked at her mom for what felt like forever. Did her mom know? Maybe the teacher called to confirm and Sam was caught out.
But her mom just smiled, although her eyes weren’t in it, and it felt like an empty smile.
“Have a good day at school. We can talk when you get home, okay?”
Sam had the sudden, sweeping urge to run up to her mom and hug her until her ribs threatened to break. But then she remembered she was supposed to be mad at her mom about not going to the circus today, and she stopped herself.
She cleared her throat and pretended that she’d be stuck in school while everyone else was at the circus. A trick that Owen texted her last night, when she’d been panicking about accidentally giving away today’s plans. He said it’d make her sound more authentic.
“Yeah, whatever.” She saw a flash of hurt in grandpa Roger’s eyes and looked back at her mom with some genuine guilt. Her mouth felt dry, even though she’d drunk a whole glass of orange juice. Why was she being so mean? Her mom was unreasonable, but…
Sam muttered a goodbye to no one in particular she ran out the door with her lunchbox clenched between her fingers.
With each step down the stairs and down the sidewalk towards her school, she came closer to getting on the bus.
She came closer to going to the circus.
–
If Sam hadn’t forged her mom’s signature on the permission slip, she would have been heading to first period like every other day. But instead of going into the school, she made a beeline for the bus drop-off line and met up with Owen and Elisa.
Both of them broke into huge grins as soon as they saw her.
“Congratulations!” Elisa said, slapping Sam’s back. Elisa was wearing a pair of green overalls with a flannel shirt underneath. “I can’t believe you actually got away with it.”
Sam felt her face get hotter. “Shh!” She looked around, but no one seemed to hear. Everyone was either talking with their friends, making videos, or scrolling on their phone. “Don’t mess this up right before we get on the bus!”
Elisa laughed and zipped her lips with her fingers. “Sorry, sorry. But I’ve been waiting for this day for like, ever. Your first field trip! And it’s with both of us!” She linked her arm with Owen’s, and then linked her other with Sam’s.
She kept them like that, despite Sam and Owen protesting, until it was time to line up formally so that Mr. Wheeling could get a headcount as everyone went on the bus. Elisa was up, and she glanced at Sam and gave a thumb’s up before she got on. Owen didn’t look back–he was too busy yelling at Elisa to make sure she saved three seats, not two.
And then it was Sam’s turn.
Sweat dripped down the back of Sam’s neck. This was it. The moment of truth. Either she’d get on this bus and go to the circus or…
Mr. Wheeling’s eyebrows went up a little when Sam stepped up. But he flipped through his folder and tapped his pen on the permission slip that Sam had given him and smiled.
“Well, glad to have you with us, Sam. Owen and Elisa can fill you in on field trip etiquette.”
Sam laughed shortly, nervously, and climbed the stairs of the bus.
The bus was filled with chattering classmates. She gazed down the aisle until she saw Elisa frantically waving her hands in a dramatic fashion. Owen was sitting in the seat in front of Elisa,
“You’ll sit with me on the way and Owen on the back,” Elisa clarified. “We discussed this extremely important seating arrangement before you even got here today. And when we get to the circus, you’ll sit in the middle, so we can make sure no one tries to snatch you or something.”
“And of course we’ll stick together if we’re allowed to do things on our own,” Owen added. He had his hair down today and was wearing a t-shirt featuring Pennywise from IT and jeans. Sam reminded herself to point out her Harley Quinn scrunchie later; at least she wasn’t the only one wearing something vaguely circus themed.
“What if I want to sit with myself? Or do something alone?” Sam asked, suddenly.
Elisa’s eyebrows quirked up, and she waved her hands. “Don’t be silly. You always sit with one of us at school, and I’m not letting you run off by yourself. Anyway!”
Elisa and Owen began telling Sam about what to expect on the trip, but she admittedly wasn’t really paying attention. She was thinking about her mom. And her grandpa.
Oh yeah, she thought. The lunchbox . I wonder what he packed, she thought. Probably a sandwich or something else equally as delicious. Sandwiches were his go-to school lunch, but they were never boring like plain ol’ PB&Js or baloney. His sandwiches had handmade bread and home-roasted meats or homemade jams and specialty peanut butter.
She pulled the lunchbox out from her backpack, then paused. Strange. The front pouch of the lunchbox had a hard spot on it. Maybe an ice pack? She unzipped it and shoved her fingers inside.
But there wasn’t an ice pack. Instead, she pulled out her grandmother’s watch. Why on earth did grandpa Roger put that in her lunch box?
“Oh,” she blurted. “That’s weird.”
Owen and Elisa stopped talking.
“What’s weird?” He asked, peering over the back of the seat.
“My grandpa put my grandma’s watch in here.”
She held up the watch. It was an old fashioned thing, with all sorts of bells and whistles, even a compass. “It doesn’t even work.”
Elisa took it from Sam’s hand and poked at the buttons, but of course, nothing turned on. The watch had never worked, as far as Sam recalled. Her mom wore it sometimes. Like when her grandpa was in the hospital. It tended to appear on her mom's wrist when she seemed stress, which made sense to Sam.
“This was your grandma Zelda’s watch?” Elisa asked, handing it back to her.
Sam shook her head. “No, it was my mom’s mom’s. Grandpa’s first wife. She died when my mom was 10 or 11, I think.” For a moment, Sam thought about putting the watch on. Then she felt silly. It didn’t work, what would be the point? The watch fit easily back into the small pouch of the bag, and she zipped it up for safekeeping. Her mom would definitely lose her mind if anything happened to the watch.
“Maybe he didn’t want you to be late for class,” Elisa joked. Owen snorted. They both knew Sam was never late for class.
Owen turned around in his seat. Sam leaned up and saw what she expected: he was working on videos for his theater TikTok. She didn't know why he stuck himself in tech when what he really wanted to do was act. Maybe she could convince him to audition for the school musical in the spring.
For now, though, she wanted to find out what her grandpa had packed for her lunch. She opened up the main pouch of her bag and was delighted by what she found inside. There were two sandwiches labeled “Turkey” and “Salami,” a bag of her favorite crackers, three mandarin oranges, and a piece of homemade bread wrapped up in plastic. Yum.
She was about to zip the bag back up when she realized there was something stiff in the middle of the bag, shoved in between the two sandwiches. She thought it was a piece of cardboard at first, but then she pulled it out.
It was a book.
A thin book, with an old-fashioned cloth cover. There was nothing on the front but the title in gold letters that were so faded that it was a bit hard to read. But with some maneuvering in the light, she was able to make it out.
Small Spaces.
She opened the book to the first page. It was a copyright page, which said the book was printed in 1895.
“Woah,” she said. “This book is old. Really old. Why does my grandpa have this?”
“Why he put it in your bag is the better question,” added Elisa. But she didn’t seem to really care about the book. She was watching eagerly as Mr. Wheeling got on the bus and gave his usual spiel about no standing, no shouting, and no chewing gum on the way to the circus.
Sam flipped impatiently to a few pages in. It was written like a diary, and the language was a bit fancy. It reminded Sam of the Pride & Prejudice series they watched in Owen’s basement earlier that summer. “This is the good one,” he said, although neither Sam or Elisa knew what the “bad” Pride & Prejudice would be exactly.
As Sam read a bit on the page, she felt goosebumps creep up her arm. From the slight chill of the open windows, maybe. Or because the words were genuinely unnerving.
“There—the candle is guttering. Lights flicker, you know, when they are near. Sometimes I hope desperately that Jonathan is with them. That he has never left me at all. But mostly I hope he is safely dead, and that I will see him in the next world.
Because the alternative is so much worse.
God bless you, my dear. Even if this story seems strange, I beg you will read it. For my sake.”
Well that’s creepy, Sam thought. It didn’t seem like the sort of stuff that her grandpa usually read. Maybe it was her mom’s book. Or her grandma’s. That would make sense, if he was having some memory problems today, that he might pack her watch and book in a bag.
“And remember,” Mr. Wheeling finished his speech while holding up a finger in a mock-stern manner. “I will feed you to the circus animals if you embarrass me on this trip.”
The class let out a resounding, teasing jeer and Mr. Wheeling laughed before taking his seat behind the bus driver. Sam didn’t jeer, but smiled anyway. It was nice to finally get an idea of what other people did on field trips. Everyone seemed to be ready to have a good time. Even the teacher. It wasn’t like Mr. Wheeling was super mean or anything in class, but he seemed in a lighter mood than usual.
The school bus suddenly roared to life. The smell of engine exhaust sifted through a few of the open windows as the bus began to plod its way to the old fairgrounds, where a circus had been set up for all ages to enjoy.
Sam put the book back into the bag. Maybe she’d read a bit more on the way, but for now she wanted to enjoy the feeling of the autumn breeze, the faint scent of the bus engine, and the chatter of her classmates.
In less than half an hour, they would be at the circus. And she was going to have the time of her life.
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Maybe Semma's first I love you as a drabble ?
i just wanted to start off by saying, that this is just a smaller piece of a larger work. i say it went something like this. i admit it's corny and short sweet to the point.
of course, this is parter of a much longer vignette chapter, and is an excerpt from a fanfiction l write published weekly or so on fanfictiondotnet & a03, titled where are you now?
to read under a cut. enjoy!!
-
After Emma spoke of her dad, they started doing what every teen does, not watch the movie they picked out for their movie night. At first, it was strictly about introducing each other to movies, but since the summer it's been just an excuse to make out and drink too much soda and eat double cheese pizza, like they always did and this evening was no different.
She and him laid down on the couch enveloped blissfully in each other's arms and were thinking out loud about their relationship, reminiscing, they raided Tracker's six-pack and had just two beers but they were feeling it. At this time in his life, drinking was fun, and even though he got too drunk at Jimmy's, he took it easy even if he was at home for Emma. He was also in better spirits.
He sighed a relaxing exhale and kissed her shoulder leaning against him and beamed, "I like you."
"Like or like like?" She flirted back. She beamed, "What do you like about me?"
"What kind of question is that? Everything." He moved to face her now lying down on the couch.
"You got to pick one thing."
He bashfully started to say something that she was hoping he'd say, or she supposed he felt one way or another and she wanted to hear him say it, it was an open invitation in every sense.
"Perhaps, perhaps I just, don't like you. I just, I know the words but once it's out there in the universe, that's it, you know and I can't let you know like this. I think you're a girl, a girl I admire and, I'm sorry forget it. Maybe I should tell you, when we're both ready, maybe you're not quite ready."
"It's a simple question, what is it that you like about me?"
"What do you mean?"
"I guess I wanted to say, I love you, Em." He beamed softly with closed lips showing off his cute dimples anticipating what she'd say, and the way she always knew he'd say something and it felt amazing to hear it come from him directly, complete with the Em, he rarely called her full-on Emma. It was a sweet thing, he got all red and bashfully, softly smiling awaiting her before her.
He said Em it made her melt like an ice cream cone on a hot summer day, like that day with the window AC unit blasting, but they still weren't through yet, they hadn't even finished their movie and focused instead on each other and the memory fizzled in and out and he thought the moment's glimmers of the past, in their glory days, and here he was, with his house empty with just him and drab, whatever, not so trendy furniture.
Before that ended he remembered some more about that day, she softly ran her fingers through his short cropped bean-less hair, since it was a scorcher even indoors with the fans at full blast, she excitedly echoed the sentiment, "You love me."
"I do, I truly do. I don't want this stuff to stop, it's why I said what I said." Sean bashfully admitted, maybe too much but he wanted to let her know where he stood. He did mean every word. "I guess I like that you don't care what people think, it doesn't seem like you do."
"I do to some extent, babe." Emma softly admitted in reply.
He sighed sadly, back to reality, he had not many remnants of her in the home, perhaps any reminders and mementos were tossed aside carelessly by Ellie, who unfairly was pitted against the expectations Emma left behind. There was a near-invisible shift once she was gone, it meant that it was over between Emma and him, and he didn't take it well. A fight isn't a breakup, ghosting is a despicable act, and it's harder than it seems to do it. Sometimes it starts as a confession such as expressing unhappiness and going from there, at the very least he didn't want to hurt her.
He'd be lying if he didn't think Ellie had much more baggage, he perceived, than the somewhat pristine, or golden Emma, whom he thought the world of, who left him in the rearview, but even miles apart, closely aligned, despite geographically, emotionally, physically, up until now distant.
Even now, besides love, she's one of the first to come to mind, and he was unable to describe the love he had for her, to her or anyone, the difference, but his two-faced, two-hearted, half-hearted for one, full-hearted for Emma the other, and it's not fair, but no one ever said life was. He knows he'll be sure to run into her, but he wants to take his time.
When it comes to Ellie, she has been treated unfairly and shouldn't have to share half of his heart or, feel that kind of pain in her life, the pain of knowing you're feeling inferior or less than someone who thinks the world of him and he sees her by default not enough, no matter what. Her bottle clutching began once he unintentionally became less invested, and she slowly fell apart, descent into alcoholism, but as for Sean, there's also some guilt in his heart, and he hates that he wasted her time, even if it all ended in yelling, slamming, and Ellie declaring she wants out of his life altogether, a clean break.
Though stuck between a rock and a hard place in their relationship, which is now over, the kicker was, that he still loved her, he wasn't anymore in love with her, but deep down he still cared for her and wanted the best, even if it's not with him. He hopes she stays sober and sticks to her guns to meet her goals.
It hurt him that she threw a lot of things in his face, and provoked him to become unnecessarily cruel. Another regret to end all regrets. He's still catching his breath from that fight to end all fights. He understands that he has to set her free for his life, his future, and his happiness no matter what happens with him and Emma, if anything at all.
Sean recalls the first night they exchanged the seldom words, I love you.
Usually in his family, it wasn't what it meant this time, it was different. I love you wasn't something he ever felt was real or true, it wasn't until therapy that he realized an 'I' statement was, after the whole Tyler debacle
In the Cameron house those words, shortened to a half-hearted, quiet whispered, or hushed love you, were usually followed by, or preceded by an I'm sorry, but nothing would change, and there was no lost love or found love, like a flesh wound left to rot, feelings festered.
When Emma said it to him, she meant it with every fiber of her being. As they lay there together holding each other tight and just enjoying the company of one another, he couldn't help but feel whole, complete, for the first time, he fit with her, because nothing mattered in the moment.
Sadly, things changed not long after that evening. While he was undoubtedly still into her and deeply loved her, he was finding their tender moments so scarce, and few and far between.
Sean felt more than a bit neglected in those last few months before their split, when she was trying to have a free night to spend with Sean there were a few nights she'd sneak him in when she figured she could.
For a few months when Snake was at his worst before they broke up, they'd bicker, Sean would start, and even if he snuck in just to hang with her, she'd eventually kick him out for being handsy. She'd get mad especially if he came from like the trailer or mullet kid stoner's houses and parties and came home a little bit high or sloshed. It gave him liquid courage he'd say. She'd shake her head and tell him to go home, and sleep it off, not because she didn't want him around but because it was late, he's past curfew, under the influence, and didn't want him to get in any more trouble.
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Snake Song - Chapter 2: Get Over It
~Paring: Draco x Original Female Character
~Description: Enemies to lovers, slow burn, Cannon divergence
~Word Count: 4.7k
~Author Note: I update once a week! You can find the series masterlist here.
~Content disclaimer: Controlling parents, parental neglect, cannon typical violence
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ain't it just a bitch?
What a pain
Well, it's all a crying shame.
What left to do...but complain?
Better find someone to blame.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
It had been nearly three weeks since Cordelia had ruined her own life. While that may seem a little dramatic to some, to Cordelia it seemed apt. She has been subjected to torture of the most acute kind: listening to her mother talk. From sun up to sun down it was “the Malfoy’s” this and “proper ladies have starched collars” that. It was as if Cordelia's horrific blunder at Diagon Alley had unlocked something in her mother. Maybe she thought she was finally getting through to Cordelia or she felt they had something in common to talk about now. Either way, Cordelia was contemplating faking her own death and going to live with the muggles.
The only thing that was keeping her from doing so was today: September 1st. It was easily her favorite day of the year. It meant that in only a few short hours she would be boarding the Hogwarts Express and going back to her real home. Where she was free from her mother’s constant scrutiny and her collar could be as floppy as she wanted.
Cordelia had just managed to shove all seven of her new Defense Against the Dark Arts textbooks into her already crowded trunk. I mean really? Seven books for one subject? She already had a growing disdain for the author of said works and new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor Gilderoy Lockhart. A sentiment that was doubled by her mother gushing about his accomplishments after having picked up the offending volumes. Cordelia looked down at her copy of ‘Holidays With Hags’ ruefully. I’ve got a hag he could take care of.
As if summoned, her mother burst into her room. “Cordelia! I want you downstairs in exactly 3 minutes.” Her mother demanded. Her eyes narrowed scraping over Cordelia's appearance. “And do something about that collar.” After her mother marched out of her room Cordelia let out a withered groan.
“What IS this woman’s obsession with collars?” Cordelia walked over the large standing mirror in the corner of her room. Not a hair was out of place, her green tartan skirt was perfectly pressed, she hadn’t missed any buttons on the gray cashmere cardigan… that’s when she noticed the tip of her crisp white shirt collar was stuck slightly under her sweater.
She let out a loud scoff and deliberately tucked the other side of the collar under, muttering angrily to herself. “She’s trying to drive me mad, two can play at that.”
After making sure Cordelia had all of her things, her mother had made a point of making sure she had the broom and book for Malfoy’s “gift” and that her owl Sage was safely in her cage, they finally made it to platform 9 ¾.
Her father had not gone through to the platform with them and the only goodbye she had gotten from him was, “We’re expecting a lot from you, young lady. Don’t forget you are a Prince.” Cordelia was not surprised by this and tried to ignore the sinking feeling of disappointment in her stomach as she and her mother went through the barrier to the platform.
“Now Cordelia–” her mother began but paused when her eye caught Cordelia’s collar. Her mother’s dark eyes flashed with annoyance, and she immediately straightened it for her. “As your father said, you are a Prince. Don’t do anything that would mar that title this year. You know what is expected of you.”
“I–,” Cordelia started, but before she could finish, another group of figures came through the barrier on the platform. It was none other than Narcissa and Draco Malfoy. Great. Wonderful.
“Narcissa, dear, I was hoping to run into you today.” Her mother greeted her friend fondly. The two women chatted a bit before Narcissa went to her son and hugged him goodbye, resting a hand on his cheek, and saying something Cordelia couldn’t quite hear. Malfoy's normally pale features flushed a bright pink, and he mumbled something in return. The two women resumed their chatting and walked right out the barrier they way they had come in. Her mother had not even spared her a second look.
Cordelia was left staring at the empty brick wall of the platform, trying a little less successfully to ignore the pinched feeling in her chest.
“Good-bye mother,” Cordelia mumbled to herself. She was pulled from her trance by the sound of someone clearing their throat. Cordelia whipped her head in the direction of the sound, having completely forgotten for a moment that she wasn’t alone. Malfoy was still standing in the same spot on the platform with a peculiar expression, as if he had just realized something. Right. Malfoy.
As he opened his mouth to speak, another group burst through the platform barrier. Oh thank god. Not one to waste a good opportunity to escape what probably would have been a particularly awkward conversation with Malfoy, she made a swift exit pulling her trunk over to the rest of the luggage.
After dispatching her luggage, it didn’t take Cordelia long to find Tracey and Daphne. Tracey was the one to spot her first, pulling her into a spine crushing hug.
“I swear to Merlin, Trace, you’re part mountain troll,” she wheezed out.
“Hey! Am not!” Tracey said with feigned offense, socking Cordelia in the arm, causing the former to let out a rather undignified grunt.
“Then explain the broken arm.” Cordelia held up her arm limply.
Daphne scoffed, grabbing both of the snickering girls' arms. “Ugh, you guys are embarrassing.” The blonde dragged the two of them off to find an empty compartment.
Not long after the high-pitched whistle of the Hogwarts Express sounded and the train began to pull out of the station. Cordelia settled into the familiar train ride, watching as the brick buildings of the city and small cottages of suburbs soon gave way to the foggy wilderness of the Scottish Highlands.
Cordelia sat with the other girls in their compartment. They had been joined by two Ravenclaw girls in their year, enjoying some sugar quills while listening to a fascinating story Tracey was regaling them with about some muggle contraption called a beeper. As Cordelia understood, they were used to make annoying sounds when they wanted to speak to each other. Her father had accidentally flushed his down the toilet.
“Now everytime we flush, it beeps and sends a message to my dad's boss. He’s tried fishing it out with the plunger, but can’t seem to get it.” Tracey was miming a rather violent plugging motion when the door to their compartment slid open abruptly.
There stood Draco Malfoy looking entirely too smug for Cordelia’s taste. Cordelia glanced to his sides. He was, naturally, flanked by his little lackeys. It appeared over the summer Crab had grown more horizontal than vertical, and Cordelia could have sworn that Goyle’s eyes had gotten closer together. All five girls grew silent, and Cordelia's stomach sank. Here we go.
“So, Prince. A little birdy told me that you’ve got something for me.” Malfoy’s smirk grew as he spoke, “Don’t be shy, you can hand it over now. I can hardly blame you.” He gestured broadly at himself. Cordelia had gone a bit red in the face despite her best efforts. The rest of the girls looked back and forth between them in bewilderment.
“What are you on about Malfoy?” Tracey, not one to beat around the bush, questioned incredulously.
Malfoy sneered briefly at her for addressing him directly, but the smug look returned as he spoke. “Well, it turns out that Prince doesn’t dislike me quite as much as she lets on.” He looked directly at Cordelia. “She even got me gifts at Diagon Alley to make amends.”
The implication of his words was enough for Cordelia to break, and she barked out a laugh. Which turned into nearly a full-blown cackle. Holding her sides, Cordelia was finally able to take a breath.
“What, did your mummy tell you that to make you feel better, Malfoy?” It was Malfoy’s turn to flush. Cordelia stood to fully make her point, taking a step closer standing nearly face to face with him. “I would rather snog a dementor than so much as hold hands with you Malfoy.” The rest of the girls erupted into giggles. Even Daphne let out a snort.
“B-but the broom,” Malfoy stuttered indignantly.
Cordelia Snorted, “You mean my new Nimbus 2001? It wasn't cheap and I had to tell mother something.” She rolled her eyes. “But thanks for asking Malfoy. It’ll be well worth it at Quidditch trials.” This earned an “Ooo” from their audience. Malfoy glowered at her now having flushed up to his ears.
“Your mother will hear about this," he spat out scowling. He then shoved past Crabbe, or maybe Goyle, it was impossible for her to reliably tell them apart, and stomped off.
“Now that was embarrassing.” Daphne almost looked amused.
“Dear mummy, a mean girl at school today hurt my fweelings,” Cordelia mocked, doing her best Malfoy voice.
The girls had a good laugh about the incident for the rest of their train ride. Though it was a bit soured when Cordelia thought about her mother’s reaction. She didn’t doubt Malfoy would rat her out to his parents and therefore hers, but for now, as the train pulled into the station and she got her first proper view of Hogwarts Castle of the year, she couldn’t be bothered to care. They’ll get over it, eventually.
They stepped off the train and onto the platform and, unlike first year, they were ushered not to the boats, but to the carriages. Cordelia was a little disappointed.
She could vividly remember the trip across the inky black lake in the small boats lit only by lanterns. At the time she was vaguely wondering if there was anything terrifying lurking in the dark waters, but upon rounding the corner of the boathouse and looking at the truly magnificent sight that was Hogwarts Castle, all other thoughts had left her mind. The sight of the castle, massive and set aglow with torchlight had, after years of living in bored luxury, left her truly awestruck for the first time in her life.
Cordelia was broken out of her remembrance by Tracey elbowing her lightly in the side.
“Alright there Cordy?”
Cordelia shook her head a little, coming back to the present day. “Of course.” Cordelia rolled her eyes, playfully nudging her friend back.
“Not thinking about your boyf—Are those carriages pulling themselves?” Tracey questioned, having been distracted when they reached the end of the platform to see a long row of black carriages pulled by seemingly nothing, taking students up to the castle.
“Magic, Trace.” Daphne replied thoroughly unimpressed. Sometimes it was easy to forget that Tracey was a Muggle-born.
“Oh right,” she mumbled to herself, still gawking as they got into one of the carriages together and began their journey up to the castle.
It wasn’t long before Cordelia found herself in the Great Hall sat at the Slytherin house table, enjoying a rather delicious feast.
She was making her way through a sizable mound of mashed potatoes when she noticed a vacant seat at the staff table. Looking along the faces of the professors, she quickly realized it belonged to Professor Snape, head of Slytherin house, potions professor, and Cordelia’s cousin, a fact that both of them had a silent agreement not to advertise.
While Snape was not what you could call affectionate, he did seem to scowl a little less at Cordelia than the rest of his students. It probably helped that Cordelia was particularly adept at potions. Odd for him to miss the feast. Maybe he wanted to avoid the noise. Professor Snape did always seem vaguely annoyed with most school functions.
Shrugging, she brought her attention back to her plate. She had just shoved another spoonful of potatoes into her mouth when she felt eyes on her. Sure enough, sitting a few seats down from her was Malfoy, actively glowering at her whilst stabbing his fork repeatedly into his roast beef. Cordelia almost choked on her potatoes.
Tracey, having noticed Malfoy’s leering, snorted into her pumpkin juice. “Look Cordy, you've got a fan.” Cordelia let out a loud groan.
“More like a fanatic.” Daphne said, having glanced his way, raised her eyebrow. Cordelia groaned even louder.
“You think he’ll try to hex me or go straight for stabbing with the fork?” she asked witheringly.
Malfoy did not in fact hex her, or to her surprise, try to stab her with a fork. It was worse than that, so much worse. He would not leave her alone. Everywhere she went somehow there he was waiting to make a snide remark or out do her in class somehow. The only time he wasn’t trying to drive her mad was when he took brief breaks to go harass Harry Potter. She frankly wondered how he found the time to make so many people miserable.
The first day of classes, in a cruel twist of fate, she was paired with Malfoy in Potions class. The look of betrayal on her face when Snape had paired them, had left the Professor puzzled, but he failed to take pity on her.
It started with the newt tails they were supposed to slice.
“Are you even awake, Prince? He said vertical.”
“Maybe if you weren’t daydreaming about terrorizing Potter, you’d know he said horizontal. Who cuts a newt tail vertical?”
Then it was the slugs.
“Malfoy, that's nine, stop.”
Malfoy stopped, with a handful of slugs sneering at her. “What? No, it’s eight.”
Cordelia rolled her eyes at him. “Can you count?”
“Can you shut it?”
They had fought so much during the lesson that for the first time since she had begun Hogwarts, she had been out done in a Potions lesson, by Hermione Granger of all people. The bushy haired girl was constantly shooting her hand up to answer every question as if there was a 100 gallon prize for being the teacher's pet and it grated on Cordelia’s nerves.
As did the look of disapproval Professor Snape directed at her. She had turned to Malfoy with a look of loathing that said, “look what you’ve done now.” Which he had returned with an equally venomous one as if to say, “I wish I had a fork right now.”
~
The second day of classes had not gone much better. Cordelia once again found herself trapped with a member of the male species that she would almost rather hurl herself off the astronomy tower than interact with. He is a complete buffoon. Cordelia was staring down at her paper in disbelief.
What is Gilderoy Lockhart's favorite color?
What is Gilderoy Lockhart's secret ambition?
“Number three: How many times does Gilderoy Lockhart kiss a framed picture of himself goodnight before bed?” Cordelia mumbled mockingly. There was a murmur of chuckles from the students around her, even Malfoy let out a snort of amusement. Though several of the Slytherin girls whipped their heads around looking offended. Tough crowd. Cordelia rolled her eyes and looked at the source of her ire, who was in fact, gazing longingly at the framed painting of himself that sat at the front of the class. Merlin’s beard.
There was no doubt that Gilderoy Lockhart, their new Defense against the Dark Arts teacher, was handsome. With his wavy blonde hair and shining smile, but as soon as he had opened his mouth whatever allure his looks afforded him immediately died. The garrish robes didn't help either. That shade of fuchsia? He looks like a macaroon.
After the allotted thirty minutes for Lockhart’s ridiculous test was up, he went about the room critiquing each student's answers.
“It appears only Miss Parkinson has remembered that my favorite color is Lilac, very well done. 10 points to Slytherin.” Pansy turned pink and looked quite proud of herself. I may be sick. Lockhart turned to the next quiz and a look of disappointment came on his handsome face.
“I must remind you that writing any rude words on quizzes or assignments will earn you detention. Mr. Crabb see me after class.” There was a murmur of laughter across the class. Much like Pansy, Crabb also looked quite proud of himself, though his large meaty head was always vaguely pink.
Cordelia was almost grateful for the pile of homework that she had hauled with her to the library. At least it would give her an excuse to hide from a certain blonde-haired menace for a while. She found herself a secluded table on the second floor tucked in between the high shelves and set to work the 2 feet of parchment that Professor Mcgonagall had assigned them on the Vera Verto spell.
If she was honest with herself, she was also trying to distract herself from the upcoming quidditch trials. She had noticed the posting on the common room bulletin board that morning and the nerves had started to set in.
So, instead of thinking about that she dipped her quill into the inkwell and tried to remember what Professor Mcgonagall had said about transfiguring anything bigger than a rat… something about spontaneous combustion.
~
As the fourth day of classes came to an end, Cordelia found herself stood on the quidditch pitch clutching her new Nimbus 2001 trying to ignore the tremor in her hand. It was her and a dozen or so Slytherin boys. From what she could remember, some had been on the team last year, the rest were new recruits hoping to join the team this year, one of which was unfortunately Malfoy.
Cordelia was currently glaring at the back of his head wondering if she should try for beater instead of chaser. That way she would at least have reason to hurl something at his stupid slick backed hair.
There were a few people perched in the stands to watch the trials, Tracey and Daphne among them. Daphne had even brought her cat Astrid. Though from this distance it looked as if the girl was holding a lopsided sack made of flesh. Professor Snape was there as well, sitting in the stands looking rather bored, probably only there to make sure they didn’t kill each other if the trials went poorly.
Cordelia looked around at the other hopefuls. Cordelia and Malfoy seemed to be the youngest ones there. The rest were a few grades above them or more. Hopefully what they have in brawn they lack in brains. She watched as one of the fifth-year boys openly picked his nose.
“Ew,” she said to herself scrunching up her nose. Malfoy looked over his shoulder.
“What’s wrong, Prince? Caught a look at your own reflection?” His smug expression faltered for a moment when his eyes landed on the broom. Cordelia’s nostrils flared at the comment.
“No, just wondering if the rumors about you using toll bogeys to slick back your hair were tr–”
A loud whistle rang out across the pitch and Cordelia and Malfoy turned their heads to look. Marcus Flint the Slytherin team captain stood in front of the crowd. The dark haired fifth year boy was tall, muscular, and had nasty looking disposition, which from the quidditch matches Cordelia had seen in first year, Cordelia knew to be true. In one match she had witnessed him kick the Hufflepuff keeper right off their broom for blocking his shot. He was no less intimidating to Cordelia now.
“Right. Listen up you lot! This is going to be a joint exercise for chasers, keepers, and beaters,” Flint smirked, looking very pleased with himself. This can’t be good. “Beaters, you’ll line up on both sides of the pitch,” Flint gestured with a beater’s bat, “hit the bludgers back and forth, points for each target you hit.”
“Targets?” An older and not particularly bright looking boy asked.
Flint’s smirk grew wider at this, and he tossed the bat at the boy, who caught it with his stomach, doubling over with an ‘oof’. “Yeah, moving targets, actually. Chasers, that’ll be you lot.” Cordelia felt her stomach sink. “Teams of three will fly across the pitch, sink the quaffles,” he jerked his thumb behind him in the direction of the three goal posts, “whoever makes the most points makes the team. You get hit with a bludger, you lose points. See, we're killing two birds with one stone,” Flint had said with a twisted grin.
Cordelia glanced up at Professor Snape in the stands in disbelief. This seems like child endangerment. If the Professor was concerned, he didn’t show it, appearing to be more interested in removing some lint from his black robes.
Cordelia was beginning to feel a bit sick but shoved the feeling down. Something she was luckily quite good at doing.
Flint continued, “Keepers, points for every quaffle blocked, though I’d watch out for the bludgers as well. “As for seekers, you’ll have a separate trial after this lot.”
Cordelia herself wasn’t sure if she should laugh or cry. Though it seemed Malfoy didn’t have the same dilemma. She could already see his shoulders shaking with laughter. That pratt. Before he turned around looking positively giddy.
“Looking a little green there, Prince. Try not to be sick on the pitch,” he snickered.
“The only thing that's making me sick is having to look at your face, Malfoy.”
Flint blew his whistle again. “Chasers and beaters on your brooms!”
“Remember to dodge Prince or we’ll see whose face is hard to look at.” Cordelia made sure to shoulder check Malfoy on her way past. Earning another snicker for him.
Cordelia walked over to the other chasers and mounted her broom. She was flanked by the fifth-year boy she had seen picking his nose and Cassius Warrington, an athletic looking, squared-jawed boy who Cordelia knew by reputation.
Flint was hovering by the goals looking like it was Christmas morning. That git. A shrill whistle sounded and Cordelia was shaken from her thoughts. Warrington had immediately taken off toward the other side of the pitch towards the goals, doing a decent job of dodging the first few bludgers sent his way.
The nose picker on her other side had not fared as well. Codelia glanced his way to see him take a bludger directly to the forehead as soon as the whistle had sounded. He flipped backward off his broom and landed on the pitch grass with a dull thud. Merlin… Cordelia wasn’t far behind Warrington, her new broom proving to be an advantage.
Warrington approached the goal posts, ducking his head as a bludger whizzed by and chucking the quaffle right into the middle hoop, narrowly hitting the keeper in the face. Cordelia, busy dodging two bludgers on either side of her, didn’t see him deliberately barreling towards her until he had rammed into her side, sending the quaffle from her hands. She did a bit of a spin on her broom before righting herself and diving to catch the falling quaffle.
She went flying downward as fast as she could before just narrowly catching it, getting so close to the ground that her boots scraped the grass. As she took back off towards the goals, a bludger slammed into the piece of grass she had just been hovering over. She could feel the color draining from her face. I may actually die. She approached the keeper blocking her way and feigned to the left before throwing the quaffle as hard as she could manage into the right hoop. It grazed the post a bit but did sink through.
Cordelia let out a small cheer, before it was cut short by Warrington rushing past her. He nearly body slammed the seeker, who lurched out of the way. Warrington then chucked the quaffle right into the middle hoop. Bullocks, down by one. Cordelia wasted no time in racing with Warrington back down to the other side of the pitch to grab another quaffle. She bobbed and weaved between the bludgers whizzing through the air as she went.
She and Warrington were thrown another quaffle each and raced back to the other side of the pitch. They both managed to sink their goals without getting maimed by any bludgers. 2-3 now. After pulling a u-turn to head back for another quaffle, Warrington kept getting closer and closer to her. Cordelia knew exactly what he was trying to do again. Before he had the chance, she rammed full force into his left side.
“Piss off, Warrington!” she spat at him. He let out a grunt as he careened to the side. She sped forward hoping that would keep him off her back for a bit. Those hopes were dashed the next moment when he came slamming back into her, sending her spinning away.
“No, don’t think I will, second year!” he yelled back.
As soon as Cordelia managed to right herself, she felt something slam into the back of her head. Cordelia let out a rather undignified yelp and everything went a little fuzzy.
All Cordelia could hear was a ringing in her ears and there was a splitting pain in her head. It felt a bit like a giant had mistaken her skull for an egg for his morning breakfast. She opened her eyes to see the stormy sky and startled a bit when a troll-like face came into her view.
“Bloody hell,” she groaned out. Upon rubbing her eyes, she saw that it was not in fact a troll, but Flint. Right, but he really does look like a troll.
“She's alive!” He yelled out and was met with murmurs of acknowledgement. Next thing she knew a giant crow came into view.
“Wot..” she slurred, looking up a little dazed.
The giant crow spoke with Professor Snape's voice oddly enough, “Miss Davis, Miss Greengrass help Miss Prince to the hospital wing immediately.” Might be a bit concussed. Cordelia finally sat up properly only to have the entire pitch spin wildly around her. I may actually be sick.
“Quickly, she’s turned a bit green.”
“On it, Professor.” The worried face of Tracey appeared in front of her.
“Traaaace, wot chu doing here?” Cordelia slurred. Tracey was carefully helping Cordelia up with the help of Daphne when she heard a particularly annoying voice.
“She was mainly watching you fall off your broom and eat some grass.” Cordelia looked to see Malfoy standing near the other player’s snickering.
“You wish you’d eat grass, Malroy!” Cordelia yelled back. To make her point she bent back down, teetering a bit from the spins, grabbed a handful of dirt and grass from the pitch, and threw it directly into Malfoy’s face. The blonde let out a yelp and sputtered trying to spit the grass out of his mouth. Snape let out a withered sigh.
“Enough! Go before I give all of you detention.”
Cordelia vaguely remembered Tracey piggy backing her back to the castle, but everything was a bit fuzzy around the edges until Madam Pomfrey set her right in the hospital wing. Madam Pomfrey had insisted that she stay overnight just in case, something about concussions being quite dangerous, but that was the least of Cordelia’s concerns.
Once she was coherent again, Tracey and Daphne filled her in on what had happened after she taken the bludger to the head.
“Warrington, managed to score two more goals while you were down. You know, for a great oaf he’s bloody fast,” Tracey scoffed. “Then there was that 3rd year Pucey, he managed to score 3..” She trailed off.
“And Flint is team Captain,” Daphne stated. Though she didn’t meet Cordelia’s eyes, choosing to instead focus on rubbing Astrids fleshy ears.
As Flint, the Captain of the team, was a chaser, that sealed Cordelia’s fate. She had not made the team. As Cordelia sat there and let it sink in, Tracey and Daphne exchanged worried looks.
“Cordy, if you made the team, you’d have to talk to those nasty bellends.” Daphne said, trying to sound consoling.
Tracey jumped in, “Yeah, imagine having to wake up for early morning practice and Flint is your wake up call. I’d gouge my eyes out.”
“Guys, it's okay. I’ll get over it.” Cordelia shrugged, giving them both a tight smile. Tracey and Dahlia glanced at each other, confirming how thoroughly unconvinced they both were.
~Previous Chapter
~Next Chapter
#draco malfoy fanfiction#draco fic#draco x oc#draco malfoy x oc#draco malfoy#harry potter#harry potter au#harry potter fanfic rec#slytherin#slytherin reader#slytherin pride#hogwarts#hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry
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my favorite things/moments from red white and royal blue
so basically like the whole book but bear with me
“they’re saying you got your asshole bleached” “that one is true” “i thought so”
the fact that june and nora are so clearly fucking but we have the most unreliable, oblivious, self-centered narrator ever (affectionate) so its never actually put into the books
“a strawberry-blond, whip-smart democrat with high heels, an unapologetic drawl, and a little biracial family”
june’s plane reading material like what is she on
nora calling alex out for crushing on henry right off the bat. literally on page 10. sis knows whats up lmao
“maybe it is technically a rivalry. whatever.” enemies to lovers is winning
the ENTIRE viscount convo at the wedding please😭😭
“its cute how you think everything is about you” “it should be honestly” “thats the spirit”
the double meaning when alex is thinking about how his fingernails were too stubby to pick out the staples in the pic of henry because his hands weren’t “like a girl’s”
“he’s too perfect. alex wants to poke it.”
“sorry i’m not obsessed with you like everyone else. that must be confusing for you” “you know what? i think you are” iconic
ellen reading the word “cake-tastrophy” with audible distain
alex seeing the paper that says “agreement of terms” and being like “um”
“so you can hate the heir to the throne all you want, write mean poems about him in your diary, but the minute you see a camera, you act like the sun shines out of his dick, and you make it convincing” (ive had this memorized since the first time i read it lmaoo its ingrained in my brain forever)
“have you met henry? how am i supposed to do that? he has the personality of a cabbage”
what the fuck is competitive yachting
“does he get one of these for me?” “yep. and for the record, making it was one of the most depressing moments of my career”
“okay. ill do it. but i wont have any fun” “ god i hope not”
alex thinking his type of love story is more shakespearean and then june saying his and henrys situation is shakespearean
“who does that? who names a dog david? he sounds like a tax attorney. like a dog tax attorney. drink.”
the image of baby alex trying to force an orca wrangler into early retirement because of “inhumane whale practices”
alex’s internal dialogue about shaan (and luna for that matter. god hes so bisexual)
i know henry planned that riding practice so he could come around the corner all bathed in the sunset on a white horse in perfect riding clothes
“haven’t decided yet, but astonishingly, it will not be based on you. remember how we sometimes talk about things that are not about you?” “yeah, weirdly”
“’sorry. er. i was just. cornettos.’ he gestures vaguely toward the refrigerator, as if hes just said something of any meaning”
every time alex refers to henry with any sort of royal title
alex almost missing the question when on a literal talk show bc hes too busy admiring how hot henry is in his sweater and button down (relatable)
alex always describing henry and his eyes with words like fresh and soft and blue
alex being into politics because he genuinely cares about people 🥺 it really is the better timeline
“you know, we have got to stop ending up like this”
“you’re not the prince of me?” “bloody hell”
alex bucking his hips up into henrys 😭 i just know henry almost blacked out lmao
“i cannot believe even mortal peril will not prevent you from being the way you are” yeah
the way they know each other so well without even knowing each other (henrys above comment^, alex calling him out for not being who he is, the entire closet convo and them both just instinctively getting things once they actually stop and breathe for a second)
“wow, youre wrong” the most alex thing ever
i need to be inside cash’s brain to see what he sees when he opens the closet door and they’re just laying side by side on the floor, blinded by the sudden light
“no booty calls” *literally uses it for booty calls*
bitch mcconnell
the way alex describes every attractive man he encounters in vivid detail, practically drooling over all these men, and thinks hes straight
luna immediately trying to get alex to admit hes gay for henry lmao
“you wound me” “you exhaust me” “i enchant you” “ill call security”
all the random emotions alex finds to explain the hot flashes from hot guys doing hot things
“alex you need other friends. friends who arent in congress” “i have friends! i have june and nora” “yes, your sister and a girl who is also a supercomputer”
“but we were ever so careful, dear”
alex being comfortable around henry not caring what henry thinks and being “as weird and manic as he wants”
“i dont know who you think you’re kidding, you hufflepuff-ass bitch”
shaan has a “motorbike”
“like a dickensian street urchin” pls
henry describing like everything about sailing and alex saying “cool” eight hours later 😭😭
everything about pez
alex canonically watches videos of justin trudeau speaking french and thinks hes straight
“he would really appreciate it if henry would stop proving him wrong”
“you are the thistle in the tender and sensitive arse crack of my life” “thanks!”
“tell shaan i say hi and i miss that sweet sweet ass xoxoxo” “i will not”
the entire part of the Great Turkey Calamity. im not even gonna be specific with this one. the whole part. from the part with alex and ellen talking all the way to the texts aboout henrys dad being a babe. everything in between those. its too good to even make a list. how does she come up with this shit. its so good.
“henry’s got his candy cane jim jams on”
“he just doesnt often get told hes good enough” THE SIGNIFICANCE
junes reaction to finding out alex was talking to henry about family shit and then comparing it to a love story
alex freaking out about henry being on the guest list and nora going “this is interesting” i love her
alex with his lowercase letters and henry with his perfect grammar
them going from texting every couple of days to answering each other within seconds
alex saying henrys voice is “like very expensive velvet, something moneyed and lush and fluid all at once”
alex throwing his head back and laughing and henry grinning at him is just so them
the hips convo and “watch me” *gulps down champagne* “i am”
the whole get low scene oh my god the imagery is so good
“you absolutely must know i did not” and alex and nora being horrified henry hasnt experienced this specific experience
forever obsessed with nora and alex being ridiculously smart little nerds but both still being absolutely chaotic young adults who grind up on each other and kiss for fun and start rumors that theyre fucking. the character depth is delicious
“are they too drunk to communicate in english?”
“one, henrys lips are soft”
their first kiss is the equivalent of literal butterflies and cartoon hearts fluttering around and their second kiss is like the height of passion. we love it
“but he thinks about henry, and, oh” asjhkdfbdkbfkjsdfb
alex and nora are the exact people who would have a marriage of convenience planned out
the entire nora/alex bisexual talk lmaooo
“still waters, deep dicking”
“you’ve been, like, draco malfoy obsessed with henry for years-do not interrupt me-”
nora knowing henry is gay but in that way that gays just know and alex being like what???? because somehow this never clicked for him
nora and alex both being bi but reacting to it in exact opposite ways
“the class is ethical issues in international relations. he really has got to stop taking classes so painfully relevant to his life”
alex seeing henry on a date in the magazine and spending a very short time being angry before his common sense and trust for henry and noras words all work together and then his realization and then him immediately being sad for them instead. and then him being like lmao im not straight
imagine youre liam and youre on a date with your bf and the guy you did gay stuff with in high school who is now the fsotus calls you out of the blue and asks about said gay stuff because hes having a sexuality crisis and then he apologizes 😭😭😭 liam is so funny too
“its alex. yeah, him”
alex seeing henry in his suit and his immediate thought is how much he wants to rip it off
“oh,” henry says, like an idiot.
“looking like the goddamn james bond offspring that he is”
“shut up, shut all the way up, oh my god”
i mean, the red room. dinner, hamilton, hot and heavy, god save the queen, yk
all of the inner dialogue from this entire scene lmao so aggressive
“he wants to follow the sound down his throat”
“hes unsure of the dress code for inviting your sworn-enemy-turned-fake-best-friend to your room to have sex with you, especially when that room is in the white house, and especially when that person is a guy, and especially when that guy is a prince of england” this sentence should just be the entire blurb honestly. hidden gem.
“hes done research. he has diagrams. he can do this.”
“his stomach does some embarrassing acrobatics he plans to never tell anyone about ever”
“henry is tall and gorgeous, half royalty, half movie star, red wine lingering on his lips”
im sorry but if someone took my elbow and kissed me while smiling and simultaneously shut and locked my bedroom door i would simply pass out
“he can practically feel the wind in his hair. its ridiculous.”
“so, like, fuck the moors”
alex “we’re still whatever we were before just, you know, with blowjobs” claremont-diaz being all “you went out with a girl” right off the bat lmao
“alex’s frenetic energy and henrys aching sureness”
the descriptions
alex being obsessed with the little curve of henrys waist and his hand being there and that being his proper “god i love men” moment
“devastating”
when alex says wait and henry immediately stops and alex like reassures him oh my god
“hi” “hello” “im gonna take your pants off now” “yes, good, carry on”
im laughing so hard at henry being in love with him for so long and he finally kisses him and alex hurtles through a sexuality crisis and then is like “alright lets go fuck”
“fucking eyelashes”
“alex is living for it, watching henry come undone, letting him be whatever he needs to be while alone with alex behind a locked door”
the part about the fruit basket like 1) lmao fruit and 2) i love that hes not weird about henry having experience like yes
imagining henry copying alex saying “freaking out” aghh
“for fuck’s sake man, you just had my dick in your mouth, you can kiss me good night”
alex is so in love lmao
henry laughing <3
“it should not provoke anything visceral, carnal, or bodice-ripping in nature in him at all”
“you look...sweaty” “im gonna go uh. say hi to henry”
“enjoy your summit with the english delegation”
“fifteen days removed from henry swearing at the ceiling of alex’s bedroom and unsure of how to proceed”
“what in the rich-white-people-sex-dungeon-hell?”
“he whips a thick leather strap off a hook on the wall and alex almost blacks out”
alex’s verbal reaction to the polo attire and henry trying to keep up
“henry is swearing up a storm, which is still disarmingly sexy”
“that shithole? not if i can help it” “oi! thats disrespect of the crown, that is. insubordination. ive thrown men in the dungeons for less” “hey, dont threaten me with a good time” ok london boy
the way henrys name in all the emails is different words that fit hrh
actually all the different names they use in all the emails overall
“and its all so fucking french”
“alex has to admit: henry really has a solid handle on his personal brand”
“but perfect stoic prince charming laughs when he comes, and texts alex at weird hours of the night: youre a mad, spiteful, unmitigated demon, and im gonna kiss you until you forget how to talk. and alex is kind of obsessed with it.”
“and alex is drunk and fucking transported, feeling every moment of twenty-two years and not a single day older, some kind of hedonistic youth of history. birthday head from another country’s prince will do that”
“and alex’s heart goes so fucking weird that he has to put his head in his hands for a full minute. (but, like, its fine. its not a whole thing)”
“for the record, i agree with you, but also, tell me more”
never seen a book bring up such a natural build up to a love of gay history and how important it is
“hes starting to understand what swelled in his chest when he reads about stonewall, why he ached over..” YES. THATS IT. THATS THE FEELING!!!!!!!
“i will chop my own tit off”
“i will staple your dick to the inside of your leg if it keeps it in your pants”
alex knowing when henry is in his moods and wanting to help
“baby”
the phone call where henry spills about his family and then alex spills about his past and then about both of their previous dating experience and mental health and gahhh
“two parentheses enclosing 3700 miles”
“i miss you” “i miss you too”
the way it ropes in how alex missing dinner with june brought up past shit for her
june finally snapping and them talking about henry
“you have so much in you, its almost impossible to match it. but hes your match, dumbass” ahhHHHHHHHHHH
“hes like some kind of billionaire, genius, manic-pixie-dream philanthropist.” yep thats pez
the facetime when pez and henry are in the car and alex feeling better because henry looks well rested and the goofy banter
llwynywermod does NOT sound like it should. idk what it should sound like but not like it does.
henry using his royal accounts money for specifically charity yes
“hes always wanted to be a person with a legacy in this world. henry is undoubtably, determinedly that. its a little intoxicating.”
“yall do school weird”
june and nora drooling over pez LMAO “i want to put my fingers in his mouth”
cash wearing a feather boa yes
dont stop me now. all of it.
bea and alex and knowing how rare it is
god i can feel the joy
“bisexuality is truly a rich and complex tapestry” *june shoves napkin in his mouth*
“o captain my captain” “have you got talking points”
alex is literally drunk but he sees henry get nervous and immediately switches into Concerned Boyfriend Mode
travel size lube
f i n g e r s
so much love
i know henry saw his love mirrored right back at him in alex’s eyes and knew he had to make a joke
“theres something so incredibly intimate about sitting on the bed they wrecked the night before, the only one who watches him create Prince Henry of Wales for the day.”
“hes got a suspicion all these feelings are why he held off on fucking henry for so long”
“so this is the gang now, huh?”
“how is a man to get anything done knowing alex claremont-diaz is out there on the loose? i am driven to distraction.”
“o fathers of my bloodline. o ye kings of olde. take this crown from me, bury me in my ancestral soil. if only you had known the mighty work of thine loins would be undone by a gay heir who likes it when american boys with chin dimples are mean to him” please
i love alex going back to henrys emails when he is upset
“utah ugly, christian ugly, ugliness couched in dog whistles and toothy white smiles”
“not every white supremacist is a meth head in bumfuck mississippi- there are plenty of them at duke or upenn on daddys money” BLESS
“as if alex, first son of the united states, is unfamiliar with how campaigns work”
the text thread with henry alex june and nora lmao so chaotic
“1. tf is this? arent there poor people in your country? 2. ive already been in the royal box” “you are a delinquent and a plague. please come?”
“don’t worry, i dont think they can detect the thick air of horn-town betwixt you two from the lawn”
“all mischievous smiles and swooping cheekbones”
henry touching two fingers to the back of alex’s elbow mm
philip and henry are the equivalent of a strict parent and rebellious child. “oh you hate alex being in the box? we’re gonna go fuck in a supply closet then. fuck you”
the way henry got right up in his space but didnt kiss him im-
“just so we’re clear, im about to have sex with you in this storage closet to spite your family. like, thats whats happening?” “right” “awesome, fuckin love doing things out of spite”
“and it should be- it should be funny. it should be hot, stupid, ridiculous, obscene, another wild sexual adventure to add to the list. and it is but...it shouldn’t also feel like last time, like alex might die if it ever stops”
“you’re brave. i could use some of that”
woman at her toilet
obsessed with alex and henry both having so much knowledge to share with each other
“and alex’s heart doesn’t spread itself out in his chest, and he doesn’t have to grip the edge of the settee to steady himself. because thats what he would do if he were here in this palace to fall in love with henry”
“i see you more than i see clean underwear”
“if shes not giving it to you, im not giving it to you. shes much nicer than me”
“there’s this way henry has of listening to the erratic stream of consciousness that pours out of alex’s mouth and answering with the clearest, crystallized truth that alex has been trying to arrive at all along”
“oh fuck me” “blurgh” “fucking shit. goddammit ass fucker” “what” “jesus tits”
the mental image of this entire scene but especially “henry flies out of bed too. he truly is a picture, wearing an expression of bewildered panic and absolutely nothing else”
“get in there” “quite” “yes we can unpack the ironic symbolism later”
“zahra is standing there with her thermos and a look on her face that says she did not get a masters degree to babysit a fully grown adult”
“it is, alex thinks half hysterically, a very solid visual pun”
“do i even wants you to explain what the fuck is happening here? literally how is he even here, like, physically or geographically, and why- no nope.”
“oh my god i thought you were getting into international relations or something” “i mean technically-” “if you finish that sentence, im gonna spend tonight in jail”
“youre literally putting your dick in the leader of a foreign state, who is a man, at the biggest political event before the election, in a hotel full of reporters, in a city full of cameras, in a race close enough to fucking hinge on some bullshit like this, like a manifestation of my fucking stress dreams, and youre asking me not to tell the president about it?” “um. yeah?”
“would it make any difference if i told you not to see him again” “no”
“ask me if im afraid of the crown”
“exploring your sexuality: healthy, but does it have to be with the prince of england?”
“history huh? bet we could make some”
“the phrase ‘see attached bibliography’ is the single sexiest thing you have ever written to me”
“should i tell you that when we’re apart, your body comes back to me in dreams? that when i sleep, i see you, the dip of your waist, the freckle above your hip, and when i wake up in the morning, it feels like ive just been with you, the phantom touch of your hand on the back of my neck fresh and not imagined? that i can feel your skin against mine, and it makes every bone in my body ache? that, for a few moments, i can hold my breath and be back there with you, in a dream, in a thousand rooms, nowhere at all?
“ill let you look at one boob. the good one” “theyre both good”
“theres a combination of girl sounds from the back seat”
“hi love’ he hears henry say quietly, privately, right into the hair above his ear, and alex’s breath forgets how to do anything but laugh helplessly”
imagining henry grinning in the passenger seat and bopping his head to the music aghhgndksk
“lbj was obsessed with his own dick. he called it jumbo and would whip it out all the time. like in front of colleagues, reporters, anybody” ���american politics. truly fascinating” “you wanna talk, henry the VIII?”
“a little appreciation for the patron saint of gender-neutral bathrooms in california? little shit”
“and alex is. well, alex is so in love he could die”
“-maybe even with the apron still on-”
“i didnt realize this was a jazz brunch”
the skinny dipping is so cute before it goes wrong
“hes spent too much of his life talking, talking, talking to not know the signs when someone doesnt want to hear him anymore”
“henry you motherfucker! henry, you piece of shit, get your ass down here”
“alex’s heart is going to fall out of his ass. henry looks unimpressed”
“really nice. fucking ghost me for a week, make me stand in the rain like a brown john cusack, and now you wont even talk to me. im really just having a great fucking time here. i can see why all yall had to marry your fucking cousins”
“seriously’ he says, helpless and indignant”
obtuse fucking asshole
“i fucking love you, okay?”
“i never imagined you would love me back”
“what do you want? “i want you-” “then fucking have me”
THE LIVES WE WANT-- THEYRE NOT THAT DIFFERENT. NOT IN THE WAYS THAT MATTER. YOU WANT TO TAKE WHAT YOU WERE GIVEN AND LEAVE THE WORLD BETTER THAN YOU FOUND IT. SO DO I. WE CAN FIGURE OUT A WAY TO DO THAT TOGETHER”
“tell me youre done with me. ill get back on the plane. thats it. and you can live here in your tower and be miserable forever, write a whole book of sad fucking poems about it. whatever. just say it” “fuck you”
“hes in stupid, unbearable love, and henry loves him too, and at least for one night it matters, even if they both have to pretend to forget in the morning”
“dont miss it this time. hes too important”
the copy of le monde
“thats not good enough for me”
“i honestly have never thought i deserved to choose. but you treat me like i do”
“what about you’ he says, as if he doesnt know-”
“diaz, you insane, hopeless, romantic little shit. it had better be forever. be safe”
prince consort road
i need someone to love my rambling like alex loves henrys rambling
everything about james I because i was obsessed before this book but now i really really am
“oh yeah. the top list of reasons to love you goes brain, then dick, then imminent status as a revolutionary gay icon” “you are quite literally queen victorias worst nightmare”
bringing up david and jonathan yes ma’am
can i please slow dance in this room please its all im asking
“two homes side by side”
“hey, have i told you lately that youre brave” afTER HENRY SAYING HE COULD USE SOME OF HIS BRAVERY AGHHHHH
“it is, indeed, bullshit”
“what is it american politicians say?- thoughts and prayers”
“and im there, using up your shampoo and making you come to the grocery store with me”
“here lies prince henry of wales. he died as he lived: avoiding plans and sucking cock”
“because im not like the rest of the men in this family, beginning with the fact that i am very deeply gay, philip”
the rooms the rooms henry putting the bad memories in the rooms and then the vase THE WATERLOO VASE BECAUSE ITS TOO BIG FOR THE PALACE AND NOWHERE IN THE PALACE COULD HOLD HIS FEELINGS FOR ALEX AHHHHH
“happy and animated and so alive, a person living in dimensions i couldnt access”
“i thought, this is the most incredible thing i have ever seen and i better keep it a safe distance away from me. i thought, if someone like that ever loved me, it would set me on fire”
“and then, inexplicably, you had the absolute audacity to love me back. can you believe it?”
“you love so much bigger than yourself”
henry being a beautiful writer and alex being a list maker is everything. play to your strengths i guess
speaking of lists: THE LIST THE LIST THE LIST !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
alex realizing how he brushed him off in attempts to make him feel better and how he accidentally hurt him too and acknowledging that and apologizing. we love a healthy relationship
“im calling you as soon as i send this, but i know you like to have these things written down” yes
“did you get engaged?” “*shrugs* i had the weekend off”
zahra calling alex princess 😭😭
“oh fuck my ass” more great zahra content
alex being strong for henry in the car and calming him down instead of making it about himself when hes freaked and disgusted (and kinda violent) too 🥺
“you’re it okay? im never gonna love anybody else in the world like i love you. so, i promise you, one day we’ll be able to just be, and fuck everyone else”
“you do realize youre talking to a united states senator” “yeah, big fucking man”
the way alex tells raf is so intense and so them
“topography on the map of you, a world im still charting”
“your spine’s a ridge id die climbing”
“give yourself away sometimes sweetheart. theres so much of you”
“ik this is a sad part but “you horny little miscreant”
“what did you do?” what did he do?
“gay defcon five”
alex reacting to the leak decimates me every time its so heartbreaking but its written so well
“do you feel forever about him?” “yeah, i do” “then fuck it”
zahra pulls through frfr with the plan to go to london
“listen up you fuck” so affectionate
“i will personally make your balls into fucking earrings. i will scorched earth your entire motherfucking life”
“she pauses, presumably to listen to him agree because alex cant imagine him doing anything else”
“sweet and posh and shaky and confused”
“sweetheart”
actually just the entire phone call. the whole thing. true love
zahra and alex have such a fantastic dynamic
bea was fr finna hit philip with a guitar
when they see each other after the leak😭 dont talk to me
the description of grief when youre young and how it changes you is so perfect and concise and beautifully worded and it makes me cry
“i love him, with all that, because of all that. on purpose. i love him on purpose”
“six feet of boy curled around kicked in ribs and a recalcitrant heart”
“alex’s ears are ringing”
the way she pointed out that philip said “if youre gay” i never even noticed this but people do this!! all the time!! irl! its so demeaning
“fuck off, philip, i love him” w his chin stuck out <3
“we’ll take the raping and the pillaging and the colonizing, we’ll scrub it up nice and neat in a museum, but oh, no, youre a bloody poof? thats beyond our sense of decorum” get his ass!!!!
“you can take your legacy and your decorum and you can shove it up your fucking arse, philip. im done” GET HIS ASS!!!!!!
*buttons jacket* “for what its worth, that is the bravest son of a bitch ive ever met”
“we banged it out last night”
gotta hand it to catherine, she chose a hell of a time to come back to life
“the princess who ran away with james bond”
“ive been gay as a maypole since the day i came out of mum, philip”
“in the silence that follows, alex has to bite down very hard on his tongue to suppress the urge to laugh hysterically”
alex “we could still do that” claremont-diaz
“i dont care for that tone at all” put him in his place catherine!
page 354= the page i finally started sobbing the first time i read it
seriously how is everyone in the better timeline not sobbing into their hands seeing these rallies
“wouldn’t i mum? wouldn’t you like to find out” ajshdjfbshjbfskbf
“ya know, i think all that cocaine i did must have really done a number in my reflexes” LMAO
never tell me the odds
“dc dykes on bikes chase protestors” yes ma’am
to be continued
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Text
American Royals Quote Rp Meme
Book by Katharine Mcgee- feel free to edit or change pronouns for rp purposes
“Who said anything about forgetting? The point of forgiveness is to recognize that someone has hurt you, and to still love them in spite of it.”
“Tell no one your secrets but make them think that you have. It creates the illusion of intimacy.”
“Relationships never make sense from the outside; the only people qualified to weigh in on them are the people in them.”
“Sorry isn't a magic eraser that undoes whatever wrong thing you did! You can't just say sorry and expect everything to be the way it was, not when people have been hurt!”
“The only people free from censure are people who’ve never taken a stand.”
“I think you're too clever for your own good”
“Everything seemed to go luscious, and slow, and still.”
“Despite how progressive America claimed to be, there was still a sexist double standard quietly underpinning everything.”
“Only you would daydream about a library meet-cute.”
“I wish I had someone I could turn to for guidance. But all I can do is pray.”
“I’m a commoner.”
“It was so much easier to break an arm than to break your heart. Hearts didn’t heal themselves. Hearts didn’t remake themselves stronger than before.”
“Only by engaging with the past can we avoid repeating it.”
“Yes, exactly, because you’re a woman, and the world will make everything exponentially more difficult for you. It isn’t right, or fair, but it is the truth.”
"It kills me that I don't have more to offer you,"
“Real love comes from creating a family together, from facing life together -- with all its messes and surprises and joys.”
“Writers got to pick the endings of their novels, but she wasn’t living a story. She was living history, and history went on forever.”
"I have no lands, no fortune, no title. All I can give you is my honor, and my heart. Which already belongs to you."
"I'm sorry it isn't a real ring, but I'm improvising here."
“That was the thing about success, it could be even more draining than failure.”
That was the only word for it: known. Not hoped to marry, or dreamed of marrying, or even felt destined to marry. Those words involved an element of chance, of uncertainty.”
“to the people, go out begging for votes—that could only end in disaster. That structure would attract the wrong sort of people: power-hungry people with twisted agendas.”
“It feels like half my internal monologue has suddenly switched off.”
“I came in here to seduce you,“and then I cried all over you instead.”
“You’re going to be an amazing first queen. If this was a world where people could, I don’t know, vote for their monarch, I know that America would still pick you. I would pick you.”
“a good queen learns from her mistakes, but a great one learns from the mistakes of others.”
“There was something too immediate about her face, the way all her emotions played themselves out over her features like the shadows of clouds on water.”
“Coatroom, five minutes”
“All I’ve ever done for America is give and give and give, and still America wants more! When will it ever be enough?”
“woman. Or maybe it would have been better if America had never been a monarchy at all, and had some other form of government.”
criticism is a good thing. It means you've fought for something.”
Our nation’s history is woven from their errors in judgment, their wrong decisions, as much as it is from their achievements.”
“All I know is that when I need to eat my feelings, my feelings taste like Wawa milkshakes with extra M&Ms.”
She, too, was bound by a sacred oath.”
“There was a nebulous, infectious energy to her, as if she were somehow more *alive* than everyone else. As if all her nerves were sparking at once, just below the surface.”
“Say you want to make things right, to build a better future. But erasing the past—or worse, trying to rewrite it—is the tool of despots. Only by engaging with the past can we avoid repeating it.”
Just because she'd been brought up to keep her emotions hidden didn't mean that she never experienced those emotions.”
They were being reckless and foolish; they were tempting fate; they were breaking the rules; they were falling in love.But they both knew that last wasn't true. They had already fallen in love, a long time ago.”
“I’m America’s Sweetheart,”
“She hated resorting to this—planting deliberate, self-promotional stories—but she wasn’t sure what else to do.”
She had long ago resolved that if she couldn't be beautiful, she should at the very least be interesting.”
“This was how a kiss was supposed to feel—electric and pulsing and smoky all at once, like you'd discovered a new source of fuel that could warm you from within.”
“They were living fragments of history. Each time she put one on, Sam felt the ghosts of her ancestors whispering to her across the fabric of centuries. The rings made her feel more confident, even majestic.”
“But sometimes—when newspapers accused her of “getting emotional,” whatever that meant, or when the media spent more time critiquing her outfits than her policies—she wished she could act with a little less grace and a little more aggression.”
“I expect you to give her your support when she's earned it and your criticism when she deserves it. That's what siblings are for, after all.”
“All she knew was that one day she woke up and her love for him was simply there, like newly fallen snow. Maybe it had been there all along.”
she had been trained to smile through anything.Even through her own heartbreak.”
#open to all#open to anyone#open rp#ask meme#open meme#open to anybody#rp meme#ask prompt#roleplay meme#memes#american royals#open starter#open fantasy roleplay#open fantasy starter#open fantasy rp#open historical roleplay#open historical starter#open historical rp#katharine mcgee
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