#both rowan and collar are open for these :)

[letorip]

Can you do headcanons about meeting/first date with Jenna’s characters?

meetings & first dates

very funny to think about, i really did have quite good fun writing this one. thank you as always to the anon who requested, i was happy to oblige. also this isn’t what i originally planned to put out but casual [iii] should be out soon so maybe this’ll fill the void. i'm also on holiday at the moment, so that's why i'm posting at a weird hour (5 am) my ass had a plane to catch

i think i cooked on the lorraine one, would y'all want that one too

wednesday addams

you meet her in jericho, working behind the counter of the hardware store your parents own, when she stomps inside in her rain soaked boots and down a random aisle without a word at you

when she comes back with a shovel, some duct tape, a taser, and some rope, you have to awkwardly joke that it looks like she's trying to kill something

she doesn't laugh at your joke, instead staring right back at you, and you feel yourself gulp

that's your first interaction, and you don't see her again for a few days, until she comes back to buy a box of nails, and then a week later, a bucket, and a few days after that, a plunger

you won't know it until later, but she didn't actually need the nails or the bucket, she just needed an excuse to go back to the hardware store and buy some stuff so she could get up close to you

after four or five trips of her buying the most odd, random shit, she works up the courage to actually start talking to you a bit more. after a few more trips after that, you ask her what the stuff is all for, and she lets you in on the creature in the woods killing the locals, and that she claims to have seen it

for what it's worth, you believe her immediately, about rowan and the hyde and crackstone, and you listen to her theorise, leaning on the counter until someone else comes in and asks you where the plywood is, and you have to actually go do your job. wednesday stares down the intruder, trying to smite them with her eyes, but you always give her an apologetic smile before you leave

she tells you later when you're better friends and she's confessing, but she thinks of you as an odd comfort and home that she never realised she desired, and being in the hardware store and having you smile at her gave her a single fluttering of that warmth

eventually she brings you on her investigations and her cold, dead heart is running a million miles an hour the entire time, but you have to hide how close you are to wednesday from your father, because of his passionate dislike of outcasts

wednesday comes to your back window and chucks rocks at the glass to get your attention, romeo and juliet style, so that you can sneak out

when you actually ask her out, it's before you've even kissed, and wednesday wordlessly nods yes with her mouth hanging open, before she grabs the collar of your jacket and messily kisses you for the first time

your first date is to a movie, and to a horror movie, to be more specific. you take her to get food at a local diner that's open 24 hours, super late at night, and though she makes a remark about how these restaurants were unhealthy and an indicator of what's wrong with america, she thoroughly enjoys her waffle and you even manage to get her to wear one of those silly diner hates for a moment. she doesn't admit it, but she likes making you laugh

the movie is an incredibly rough experience. you despise horror movies, but wednesday is left smiling at the screen as a man is ripped to shreds in front of your eyes

that is until she realises your discomfort, and she realises you only did this because you knew she would like it. the realisation literally blows her mind, and she watches your face contort in disgust and fear, before gently reaching over and hastily grabbing your hand

she doesn't say another word, struggling to process the new emotions until you're both done with the movie and walking home. you're ranting about how gross it was and how you would be having nightmares for weeks because of it, and then she reaches up to the back of your neck and pulls you down into another fiery kiss, right as it starts to rain

tara carpenter

you've known tara for years, since you're also from woodsboro. you went to the same elementary school and she’s known of you for a long, long time since you chased her around the playground with a lizard in your hands

tara's always liked you, and you've both always had some attraction to each other and magical chemistry, but there's always been something to keep you apart

tara's involvement with amber and then chad, and then your own girlfriends, it was never the right time for you both to explore whatever electricity you could feel between you, so you didn't until you were both well into your year at blackmore

you only really get close until you take the same film class as tara. tara takes it because she's a film major and you take it because you need the credit and it's the only option of a class that takes place after 8 in the morning

you sit right next to each other and for the whole semester, you two slowly grow closer and closer, poking each other and whispering stuff while the professor prattles on

she's the de facto film buff of the group, only rivalled by mindy, and so you go to her whenever you're working on a project, because you're definitely the type to watch stupid shit, and not the high-brow film stuff the class requires

it means you end up hanging out a lot, at the library, at the coffee shop, on the couch of her apartment. you both set up the '1 for 1' rule, in which she gets to show you a movie for ever movie you get to show her

and she shows you really annoyingly good stuff, while you make her watch utter garbage. neither of you admit it, but you end up liking some of the high-brow art she pushes and she ends up having fun with the stupid movies you show her

when she makes you watch the babadook, you make her watch hot tub time machine, when she makes you watch citizen kane, you make her watch bridesmaids, and when she makes you watch la la land, you make her watch zoolander. it's a mutual exchange of interests, and you both lean against each other when you watch them on the couch or on her bed

paddington absolutely makes tara carpenter cry, there, i said it, and you show it to her and hug her when she does

things are genuinely just so easy and perfect with you, and it's so natural in a way that is unnatural for tara, but in a good way. you're unlike anyone she's ever been with, and it's refreshing and new in a way that's so exciting when you both kiss during the movie before sunrise

that's why it's so funny when your first date goes absolutely awfully

it rains on you, while you both walk to the restaurant and neither of you brought an umbrella because it wasn't projected to rain. then the sushi place you're bringing her to completely forgets your reservation and you're both waiting 30 minutes to get a table, and to top matters off, you end up being allergic to a fish you try for the first time, and need to get taken in hospital

you're not even choking really, just broken out into hives and feeling lightheaded, and tara's in the ambulance with you on the way there, and you're both talking casually, like "how was your day?"

you both get there and realise tara forgot her phone at the restaurant, and whereas anyone else would be pissed and call it a terrible date and give up, you both are fucking laughing your heads off at how cartoonishly awful the date went, even though it's a hospital, and that probably isn't the right place to be laughing in

when you're released super late that night, you both end up just wandering around new york until the late hours of the morning, just talking and occasionally holding hands. tara mentions that it reminds her of la la land, and you kiss, and what would've been a deal-breaking, awful date for anyone else just becomes something you shared with each other, and brings you even more in love

reminds me of the song ant pile by dominic fike

lorraine day

you meet lorraine as the kid of the new corn farmer in town, after your grandfather gets too old to be able to maintain his land by himself. your father has to come back and take over, due to his declining health, and you first see each other when lorraine and her daddy come to say hello and talk business for cow feed

she spots you in the back, leaning on the fence next to the field with your arms crossed and your hat pulled low, and you're just watching her and her dad talking to yours with a frown

she's set on edge by your presence, even though you're not really part of the conversation. she has to stop herself when she realises she keeps looking over at you every couple seconds, and you're still just staring at her and her father in a way that isn't exactly friendly

your dad is a generally nice guy, and he gives her your name in a passing mention and graciously accepts the pie lorraine's momma made to bring to the new partners, but it overall isn't a great first impression, and she decides right there in her daddy's truck on the ride home that she doesn't like you very much

when you're brought up again, it's by her father a week or so later. he's mentioning how helpful you are around your grandfather's farm over dinner, saying how your grandfather is blessed to have someone so good-hearted, and lorraine can’t help but remember the look of you glowering against the fence at them and doubt how true that is

she still doesn't like you, when you actually talk for the first time. RJ is bringing her home after an incredibly awkward date and gets a flat, and just as it starts to rain, guess who spots her and decides to pull over in their rusty ass pickup truck with a weird look on your face that lorraine can't help but assume is smugness

your truck bed is full of tools and supplies for your grandfather's farm and you haven't got a spare on you, but you know there's one in the shed on your farm. there's only one seat open in your truck, and even though lorraine heavily hints to RJ that she doesn't want to go, she's volunteered, as RJ doesn't want to leave his van on the side of the road, even though there's not many people who would touch the piece of junk

you snort when he insinuates that lorraine wouldn't be strong enough to fend off anyone who would take the van, and even though she's equally as miffed by RJ's assumption she's a bit annoyed by you defending her

the ride home is incredibly tense and neither of you say much until you're pulling into your yard and you say, "for the record, i highly doubt he'll be fending anyone off either." it's funny and it almost makes her laugh until she remembers she decided she didn't like you and she has to get serious again, and tells you not to talk about her boyfriend that way, and you don't say anything for the rest of the time you're helping her

she sits in the truck watching you from the wing mirror as you roll the spare out from your shed and then hoist it into the truck bed, looking sweaty and muscles tensing with effort. even though you're kind of annoying, you're tanned and you're fit, and it's something she can't help but notice whenever she goes to your farm in search of her father, who sometimes comes over to buy corn for his cattle

you both naturally start to grow into something resembling a friendship. you'll shoot the shit when you're not working, leaning on the handle of a shovel half in the ground, and lorraine will walk over and just kind of talk to you for a while. she doesn't even really realise the annoyance has melted away until it smacks her in the face that she was really wrong about you

your first date isn't actually a date until it's over. lorraine is at a lake day with her friends when one shows up with you in tow. she didn't even realise you had friends, but you're there with them and you look damn good in your swim suit, and you actually start talking a little bit about leaving the big city for your grandfather

you're all having fun, swimming around and talking, and she sees you're pretty funny when you want to be. it's kind of jarring to see just how wrong she was about you, and you both end up dancing around to your friend playing guitar and singing along

you end up being her ride home, and though there's still an underlying tension in the air, this time your truck is full of laughter and you're both actually talking. about halfway through, you accidentally let it slip that you asked your friend if lorraine was going to be there, and though the tips of your ears are red and you're apologising, lorraine can't help but reach right over and kiss you, and suddenly everything feels right in the world

cairo sweet

you meet her on the first day of creative writing, as the new student at your school, and mr. miller's seating chart places you directly next to her. she stares at you a bit, as if unimpressed by your existence, and you stare right back at her, equally as unimpressed

though you're new, you quickly skyrocket to incredible academic success, and cairo is enraged to find that with the transfer of credits, you're now really the valedictorian, sweeping it from underneath her feet at the very end of her senior year

with that, she absolutely despises you and everything you stand for

you have to trade papers for peer grading and while you calmly grade it at first, when you see that yours is covered in marks and cairo is being absolutely brutal beyond belief, nitpicking every little punctuation mark and symbol she can, you get a bit annoyed and start doing the exact same thing to her

it's a giant game of one-upping the other, and you guys repeatedly mess with each other like a chess match of fucking each other over. neither of you will admit you find the other annoyingly magnetic and captivating, you instead resort to messing with each other's standings

you both are duking it out over each little test grade, as cairo desperately tries to regain her spot at number one and you attempt to fend her off and keep your place. she'll brag about her perfect score on the calculus exam, and then you'll clap back with your extra credit. you absolutely dominate her in maths and sciences but she has you beat in creative writing and histories

winnie is greatly amused by the whole ordeal, and keeps insisting to cairo that you both should get it over with and fuck already but she scoffs and claims to resent the implication. doesn't mean she hasn't thought about it, though

her involvement with mr. miller is something she's only doing to maintain her spot as mr. miller's favourite student. cairo has the writing skill to back it up and is incredibly gifted with the pen, but you ooze a certain charisma that makes the teachers around you all giant fans, and she would be lying if she didn't say she was worried you would pull mr. miller's recommendation letter with it, and steal it right out from under her. it's entirely possible for a teacher to write more than one recommendation letter, she just wants the satisfaction of being the first one to get it

when you're partnered up on a group writing project that needs to be done in pairs, cairo sees it as the perfect opportunity to gather intel on you. another thing she hates is how mysterious you are, and how not many people actually know that much about you, other than how pleasant you are

she insists it has to happen at your house, and though you try to argue, she insists it has to be the case. it surprises her, when she puts your address into her phone and she sees it's a small one bedroom apartment in a bad part of town, without air conditioning and with terrible plumbing, and that your father works three jobs to support you

she doesn't know what she expected, but that's definitely not it, with your ability to dress and intelligence. suddenly her arch nemesis gains a third dimension, and she understands just how hard you work

though you're guarded at first, you both actually slowly discover that you don't exactly mind the other that much. you still want to keep your spot and she desperately wants it for her own, but you say something silly and it makes her laugh- really laugh- for what feels like the first time in a long time

you work together on the project more and more, and suddenly she's enjoying your company and wanting you around. she's definitely a little bit disgusted by that at first, but it's something she can't deny

she asks you on your first date to a poetry reading on a saturday, and you're a bit confused since the group project is already over, but you decide to go anyways and you have a great time. you say something profound after one of the poems, and cairo's eyes just drop to your lips in a weird amazement

she's dragging you to the bathroom immediately before the next poem can even start, and i don't think i have to say what happens next, but it's messy and there's lipstick everywhere

your father snorts when you get home that night, and there's dark red lipstick smudged all over your lips and a bit down your neck, and you roll your eyes at him with a smile

[izu0m1i]

MERCY BE DONE (yandere!batfam x cult!religious!reader)

WARNING: death, twisted religion and cult theme, weapon mentioned (axe)

Promolog: THE CLEANSING

The whetstone sang

It was a cold song. Quite. Repetitive. The kind of sound that could soothe would soothe a soul or hollow it out. Depending on what the hands of the perpetrator intended.

Over and over, Y/N Hale draws the blade across the stones edge. Her hands steady. Patient. She sat alone in the stone cellar beneath the church, her bare feet tucked beneath her, linen dress ghost-pale in the dim candlelight. Around her, the walls were lined with relics- chains, masks, hooks, books, bottles, all labeled in careful calligraphy. Y/N worked slowly, deliberately, slid in ding the curved edge of the axe along the stone.

The Deliverer.

Her inheritance, forged by the first priest of Enoch’s Hollow two centuries ago. Its handle was dark oak, oiled and worn by generations of holy hands. The blade, now freshly sharpened, was inscribed with verse she’s been raised to recite like a nursery rhyme.

“And upon the head of the sinner shall fall the weight of their judgment, and it shall be swift, and it shall be final, and it shall be holy”

Tracing the words carefully muttering the verse over and over again. She graced her fingers around the cross necklace around her, kneeling down and putting the holy axe on her lap, folded her hands praying with a soft whisper.

“Tatăl nostru,

Care ești în ceruri,

Sfințească-se numele Tău,

Vie împărăția Ta,

Facă-se voia Ta,

Precum în cer așa și pe pământ.

Pâinea noastră cea de toate zilele,

Dă-ne-o nouă astăzi,

Și ne iartă nouă greșelile noastre,

Precum și noi iertăm greșiților noștri.

Și nu ne duce pe noi în ispită,

Ci ne izbăvește de cel rău.

Că a Ta este împărăția,

Puterea și slava

În veci. Amin.”

Outside, the bell rang once

GONG

A summons, the beginning of the Judgment Rite,

Y/N, however didn’t flinch. She took the axe in both her hands carefully, slowly standing up. She’d already bathed that morning, already anointed her hands with frankincense oil. She walked barefooted through the stone corridor, passing under the carved archways that told the story’s of their founder- Prophet Enoch, who claimed this land after the fall of Gotham Hills. She knew each face etched in stone, each Devine punishment recorded in holy relief.

Up the stone stairs, through the oak door was the chapel. The congregation sat in rows. Silent. Still.

At the front her grandfather, Ezekiel Hale, presided like a high judge. His white robes hung heavy with red threads. Besides him stood Judith Hale, his daughter and her aunt- the towns lawyer. She wore black dress with red threads around the collar area and around the waist a red thick rope, tight tightly around her. In her gloved hands was a book of charges, which was open as she looked through it. In the first row sat the rest of her family. Ruth Hale, Y/N mother, sat with eyes low and hands clasped in a prayer loop, Miriam Hale, her grandmother, was caressing a white bloused with old dried blood spattered on it as she muttered prayers, Silas Hale, her uncle and doctor, stood ready next to her father, Abraham Hale if “The body was disobeying the holy judge”, and finally next to her father was Gideon Hale, her brother, poised and beautiful, watching the scene with empty eyes and hands clasped together tightly.

Y/N stood in the center of the aisle, her bare feet barely making any sound as she stood behind her brother.

Ezekiel struck the gavel.

“The court is now in divine session.”

The people whispered together

“Facă-we voia Lui”. (Let His will be done)

The accused, Caleb Rowan, was dragged into the spiral and forced to kneel down. Judith stepped forward, voice cold and sharp.

“The sinner stands accused of: filicide, wrath without provocation, blasphemy through paternal failure, and defilement of a home anointed by the Lord.”

Caleb sobbed, leaning more forward and resting his forehead. On the cold stone floor trying to bring himself comfort in it.“Please… it wasn’t wrath—it was fear—I didn’t know what I was doing…”

Judith held up her hand, looking down at him with hatred and disgust.“The sinner may speak when the gavel permits.”

Ezekiel struck it again, this one louder.

“Speak.”

Caleb raised his face, broken and wet with grief. “I didn’t want to hurt him. My son was sick—screaming, shaking—I just wanted it to stop. I didn’t mean to kill him.”

Judith stepped close, voice venomous but calm.

“And so, you killed a child to silence discomfort.

You were gifted a soul and chose to unmake it.

Is that not the act of one who plays God?”

Silence.

Ezekiel leaned forward.

“Is there any among us who would speak on behalf of the accused?”

No one moved.

Judith’s voice sharpened.

“He has no defender.”

Ezekiel turned to the doctor. “Silas Hale, was the child beyond healing?”

“No,” said Silas simply, standing up from his seat as he looked up at Ezekiel, speaking the truth. “The fever was passing. He would have lived by dawn.”

Judith closed the book of charges with a snap.

“Then the court has its answer.”

Ezekiel lifted the gavel once more.

“Caleb Rowan: you are found guilty by the Church of Flesh and Spirit.”

“Judgment: Cleanse through Blood.”

The people whispered:

“Sângele curăță. Moartea trece. Sufletul se înclină.” (Blood cleanses. Death passes. The soul bows.)

Ezekiel looked to Y/N.

“Executioner. Come forth.”

She stepped forward, her eyes blank and calm. The people looked up at her as she moved.

Ezekiel recited the final rite, his voice calm as he looked at his granddaughter with approval.

“By His hand, you fall. By her hand, you are freed.”

Y/N knelt behind Caleb and laid a gentle hand on his shoulder.

He choked, “I’m scared.”

She whispered gently in his ear, rubbing circles on his shoulder, which left the man shivering.

“Shhh, you shall be cleansed by your sins.”

Then she stood, her eyes fixed on the mans head, as he whimpered.

She effortlessly lifted the axe and when the gavel struck one final time—

The Deliverer fell.

—————————————————————————————————————————————————

Ok so hi! This is my first fanfic that I wrote on here, hope you all liked it! I took inspiration from another fanfic, about religion, ONLY INSPIRATION (I forgot the fic name 😭 but i think it was batfam x religious!reader. If someone knows the account please feel free to share the name!). I’ve wanted t write my own little fanfic about religious reader because of my own believes and such but I turned it more cult like. Anyways, this is not proofread, I plan to make another chapter or two of this series. Hope you all like it!

Promolog (your here babes!)

Chapter 1<3

Chapter 2 <3

Chapter 3 <3

Chapter 4 <3

[pillow-talk-and-sleepy-cuddles]

Hi rowan. Thoughts on scar in a collar

hello... if you like scar in a collar. well. you're in the right place. i love him... speaking of scar in a collar i do have a little snippet for of them... its not sexy times yet but guy does get a collar put on him i swear.

Grian in his wheat field, working on replanting trample wheat, grumbling as he shields himself from the sun with his wings. So focused on his task that he doesn’t notice Scar sneaking up behind him, ready to pounce. Suddenly there are hands on his shoulders and he’s being pushed to the ground, wings trapped between his and Scar’s body, puffed out and fluttering, hitting Scar in the face over and over.

That’s the only reason he gets off of Grian, rolling to the side as he laughs, tail flickering behind him and ears pressed against his head as he covers his mouth with a hand.

Grian is not amused. “Scar!” He exclaims, rolling into his side and punching the other. Now there was more wheat that he needed to plant than before and some of it he had just planted to! “If you keep sneaking up on me like that, you’ll give me a heart attack! I’m gonna have to put a bell on you!”

And Scar instantly stops laughing, tail stilling and face flushing, mouth still hanging open slightly.

Grian is worried about his boyfriend for a moment, thinking that maybe he was injured somehow, that he was having a flare up or something. But a look into his eyes told the truth - those eyes full of lust and want said he was just incredibly turned on by what Grian had proposed. “Pft - you”re really turned on by the idea of me putting a nice collar with a bell on it on you? Isn’t that a bit stereotypical Scar?” Grian drawled, mischievous smile spreading across his face.

“Hey! Just because I’m a cat hybrid doesn’t mean - it doesn’t matter!” Scar broke out of his little trance, blushing and sitting up, crossing his arms. “Maybe you shouldn’t be so easily spooked and we wouldn’t have a problem,” He countered, sticking out his tongue.

“Oh, why I oughta - you know I can’t help it! And we both know you can. It should be so easy for you to stop sneaking up on me but you just go ahead and do it anyways,” Grian sits up too, scooting so he’s sitting by Scar, their sides brushing against each other gently.

“Well mister - maybe I can help it, but it’s just so fun. You gotta understand,” Scar purred, slipping an arm around Grian and putting on his most convincing salesman tone. And oh boy - Grian knows what’s coming and he knows he’s not going to be happy with what is said. “You’re just so cute when you’re squawking. It reminds me of simpler times, when you’re under me in bed, s-“ A hard punch to his shoulder shut him up real quick, and though Grian didn’t want his time in the bedroom to be spoken of outside of it even when they were alone in public, there was a more pressing matter. He had caught the sight of a figure out of the corner of his eye, and when his head whipped over to see what or who it was, he saw that it was Gem, down by the docks that were the highlight of his base, and she was approaching the pair rapidly. When Scar looked down at Grian he would be met with angry eyes and a finger pointing down at her, informing him of her presence.

and then gem speaks but idk how to write her so cliffhanger for now

[shyvioletcat]

ROWAELIN MONTH: DAY 29

~ Firsts (date/kiss/time/child/etc) ~

Look what's back! I'm not going to ruin the surprise by telling you what first this is, but I hope you enjoy it. As always, this one AU comes with an 18 + warning for smut.

I Wish You Would Masterlist

~~~~~

“Close your eyes.”

The words were whispered by her ear and the sentiments encouraged with a kiss right below it. Aelin shivered, her skin pebbling from the gentle caress of breath and the anticipation of what would happen if she did as Rowan asked. He kissed her again, this time her neck, over and over until Aelin couldn’t help but sigh. 

Then Rowan rose over her, leaning in close enough for lips to brush but not quite kiss. “Come on, love.”

“What do I get?” Aelin’s hand ran over his bare shoulder, stopping when she reached the edge of his hair. They were both utterly bare, a sheet haphazardly draped wherever it pleased. They were spending a lazy, mid week morning in bed. Aelin had edits to do but Rowan was on that blessed sabbatical between books. He had the time, Aelin didn’t, but she wasn’t going to waste an opportunity to waste away some an hour or so under Rowan’s undivided attention. 

“That’s for me to know,” a sweet kiss that left her wanting more. “And for you to find out.”

With one final look into Rowan’s green eyes, Aelin finally did as he requested. The world dimmed and she frowned when every remnant of Rowan vanished. She didn’t like this and missed the closeness of his body. Maybe if she just took the tiniest peek she could find him, touch him.

“If you open your eyes, you’ll get nothing until tonight,” Rowan told her, like he was able to read her mind. 

“Bastard,” she huffed, making her boyfriend chuckle. 

Patience was not a virtue Aelin possessed, but it seemed Rowan wanted to play a game. She would try and have some to go along with it for him, she was gracious like that. There was shuffling of sheets and then the world dimmed just a little more. She could sense that Rowan was braced above her and still not touching her. Aelin was about to demand he do something when there was a ghost of a breath on her neck. Instantly every sense went on high alert as anticipation took over. There was a featherlight brush of Rowan’s lips over her pulse and then the fingers that tickled through the valley of her breasts nearly made her jump. As he laughed Rowan kissed her. When he pulled away Aelin chased after him, but she didn’t open her eyes. She wasn’t looking to ruin his amusement, she knew he was having fun.

“Stay still, Aelin,” Rowan said.

She knew she was in for it now. There was a smiling edge to his voice. Aelin tried to relax into the mattress, it was hard to do while trying to predict what Rowan would do next. He dragged his fingers the same path that they’d travelled before, right down the centre of her chest. Rowan did that a few times, then added his thumb to sweep over the curve of her breast. That teasing touch had Aelin humming her approval and in the hope that it would encourage him to do more. It did, and Rowan returned to her neck, kissing and nipping. Aelin fisted her hands in the sheets to prevent her from breaking Rowan’s command. Then his hand was moving downward, making long sweeps and getting a little lower each time. This was an exercise in perseverance and Aelin was holding on by a thread. Especially when his fingers dipped even lower finally about to graze over—

The sound of the door bell had Aelin’s eyes snapping open, finding Rowan already looking at her. 

“Leave it,” Aelin said, hips pushing up to encourage Rowan to keep going. 

“It’s probably my author’s copy.” Rowan sounded pained. “I can’t.”

The bell rang again and Rowan swore. He was in no state to answer the door, the person making the delivery would cop quite the eyeful. Aelin growled, rolling out of bed and grabbing a t-shirt.

“What are you doing?” Rowan asked. 

Aelin yanked the shirt so that her head popped out of the collar. “You can’t answer the door, you’ll take someone’s eye out with that thing.” 

She pointed to his raging erection, leaving him laughing as she hurried to the door. Rowan lived in a tidy little town house but it was still a race to the front door—Aelin nearly tripped rushing down the stairs. Opening the front door she saw the postie was returning to his bike, Rowan’s package in hand. 

“Wait!” She called out, darting down the three concrete steps of the porch.

The postman turned, and their eyes went wide. It was very easy to piece together what had kept Aelin inside so long. Dressed in a man’s shirt, hair a mess, and she wouldn’t be surprised if there was a hickey on her neck. 

“Just sign here,” the postie said, politely averting his eyes. 

Aelin took the device and scribbled away on the little screen and then was handed the package. It looked like Rowan was right judging by the weight and shape of it. This was his copy of his brand spanking new book. Aelin pulled the hem of her borrowed shirt down when she got to the steps, making sure her ass was covered as she nearly bounded back to the front door. She loved it when her new books arrived, it was always a thrill to see a story printed and bound. It was safe to assume Rowan would feel the same. 

Shutting the front door with her foot, Aelin turned the package over in her hands. Rowan had been very secretive about this book and it had her curious as to what was hiding inside. When she got to the top of the landing she pulled the tab, ripping the cardboard packaging down the side. She almost reached in and pulled the entire book out, but in the end she stopped herself. Receiving an author's copy was sacred and even though she was nosy and maybe a little obnoxious, Aelin wouldn’t take this moment away from him. 

Aelin stepped into Rowan’s bedroom, the morning light giving it a soft, warm glow. He was still lying in bed, gloriously naked and smiling at her. 

“Your book came,” Aelin said, waving the package in her hand. 

Rowan sat up a little bit. “How do you know?”

Aelin shrugged as she sat on the bed. “I may have had a tiny peek.”

“You opened my book?” There was an unexpected edge to his voice but Aelin supposed she deserved it. 

She handed him the book but he was already pulling it from her hand, looking slightly panicked for no apparent reason. 

“I did think about opening it, but,” Aelin gave an apologetic grimace. “Author sense kicked in and I thought better of it.”

Rowan shot her a chiding look and just straight up ripped open the rest of the cardboard packaging in two. Aelin watched intently, seeing a red cover and a hint of gold lettering. The book fell open in his hands and he thumbed through until he got to the front pages. His eyes darted over the words and judging from where in the book he was Aelin assumed it was the dedication page or maybe the table of contents. Rowan snapped the book shut, flipping round so that it faced Aelin the right way up. 

“Have a look,” he told her. 

Aelin took the book without taking her eyes off the man in front of her. There was something going here and she had no idea what it was. She was the schemer, and she felt out of her depth when it was turned on her. Her fingers ran over the embossed cover, tracing of the elegant design Rowan had chosen. The title was The Flame Princess, and it looked like it wasn’t related to any of his previous works. Aelin started at the beginning, reading the title page, glancing over the publishing information, the list of other books Rowan had written. And then she got to the dedication.

For Aelin. I love you. To whatever end.

Aelin’s heart was beating so hard she could hear it in her ears. Eight words had altered her world just like that, and she read them over and over until she knew each letter by heart. Rowan had a way with words, it was what made him such a good writer. But flowery words weren’t needed here, because as the man that held her heart this is who he was. Open and direct, an honest man who wanted to tell the whole world how he felt. The simplicity took nothing away from the sentiments. It was perfect. 

“You love me,” Aelin said, her cheeks aching from her wide smile. 

“I do, Aelin,” Rowan said, bringing himself level with her face. “And I want the whole world to know it.”

She looked back down at the book, the page blurring as her eyes misted over. Her fingers ran over the words, this moment would live in her memories forever. Aelin knew that she loved him back, she had just been searching for the right time to tell him. Nothing seemed right and thank Mala she had waited so that they could have this moment instead. Looking up and blinking away the tears Aelin found Rowan watching her, something shy about his expression. Aelin put the book on the nightstand with reverence, leaving her hands free to cup his face. 

“I love you, too,” she told him, her heart leaping at the blinding smile Rowan gave her. “How could I not, when you’re ready to declare it to the whole world.”

“Aelin.”

Her name was the only warning before Rowan pounced, easily pulling her beneath him. Aelin had kept her hands on his cheeks and used that leverage to bring him down for a kiss. With every caress of their lips the words were reiterated.

I love you, I love you, I love you. 

But Aelin couldn’t resist, she had to say it aloud again. “I love you, Rowan Whitethorn.”

Rowan brushed their noses together. “I love you, Aelin Galathynius. To whatever end.”

Hearing those words Aelin’s heart felt like it was about to burst from her chest. She would never tire of hearing it. 

“Now,” Rowan said with a brazen smile. “Where were we?”

“Oh, gods.” Aelin choked out. He wasted no time, Rowan took up exactly where they had left off.

His fingers slid to her very centre before dragging up to her clit. Aelin’s moan shuddered out of her, Rowan swallowing the sounds. He teased her, driving her mad because he withheld just enough to keep her on the edge of release. He relented, just a little, but not enough. 

Rowan’s fingers played at her entrance and his thumb pressed down on her clit, making her ache for him in the best way. 

“Rowan,” her voice was a breathless whisper. “I wanna come.”

Aelin was impressed that she managed to get the words out her brain was so frazzled. Rowan adding a finger inside her didn’t help the matter. 

“But where, Aelin?” Rowan’s mouth was an insistent weight on her neck.

“What?” She asked, hips moving in time with his taunting fingers.

“Where do you want to come?” Rowan kissed the hollow of Aelin’s throat, downward to the centre of her chest, and then she whimpered embarrassingly when his teeth closed over a taut nipple through the fabric of his shirt.

Aelin wondered why and hated that she was still dressed, what a disaster. Without the godsdamned she would be able to feel Rowan's teeth and the warmth of his mouth. 

“Aelin,” Rowan said, his thumb circling the nerves at the apex of her thighs, like that could wring an answer from her. 

And through some miracle it did. 

“Your cock, Rowan,” Aelin decided. “I want you inside me. Please.”

Rowan gave her a single kiss. “Anything for the woman I love.”

When Rowan drew back to get a condom Aelin took the opportunity to get rid of the t-shirt. She flopped back onto the pillows, waiting, knowing that Rowan loved her like this. Naked and sprawled in his bed. Foil tore and Rowan rolled the condom on himself while Aelin slid a leg either side of him. She watched as his gaze darkened further as he took in every part of her that was on display. His hands started at her ankles, then pressed their way up her body, touching and feeling everywhere that had fire sparking in her blood. 

They were eye to eye now, and Aelin draped her arms over his shoulders and back. “You love me? Then show me.”

“I’ll fuck you so well it’s the only thing you remember,” Rowan said. 

Before Aelin could think of some smartass remark to make in return, Rowan rolled his hips and pushed into her until he had nothing left to give. She moaned his name before he started moving and intelligible words were beyond her. Rowan’s thrusts were slow but thorough, her body shuddering with each one. Aelin clung to him, one hand buried in his hair and the other clawed into his back. 

“I love you,” Rowan whispered harshly, his voice giving away that he was just as wrecked as she was. “You are it for me, Aelin. I’ll never love anyone like I love you.”

“Oh, Rowan,” Aelin gasped. “I love you so much.”

“Are you close, Aelin?” He asked. “Is that the only thing you remember? My name and that you love me?”

“Yes, Rowan—” Aelin moaned as her body surrendered to the feel of him. “I love you.”

Rowan groaned and her core pulsed, her release right there, just out of reach. His hand coasted over her body until it reached her thigh. Rowan’s fingers splayed in a broad grip, slanting their bodies together so he hit deeper. 

With absolute tenderness, Rowan kissed her. Like she was the most precious thing in the world. “I want to hear you say that forever.”

Gentle was not what Aelin wanted right now, even as her heart flipped in her chest. “Harder, I need it,” she begged.

Rowan gave it to her. He angled his hips to apply the right kind of pressure where she needed it. Each thrust was precise and only took a few more before Aelin was breaking apart. She came, moaning from deep in her throat and then the babbling took over. 

“I love you, I love you,” Aelin repeated the words over and over until her racing heart began to slow. 

Rowan’s hips stilled and he groaned into Aelin’s neck. They both went limp, Rowan had the care to roll off her before he collapsed completely. Aelin wasn’t so gracious. She twisted so that she lay on him, her ear pressed right over his heart. A heart that belonged to her. Aelin kissed Rowan’s bare skin, feeling the flushed warmth on her lips. His hand found its way to her hair, brushing it aside so he could see her properly. 

Aelin looked up at her boyfriend, her very handsome boyfriend who loved her. She couldn’t wait until his new book came out and all his readers could see those words and know what a wonderful man she had the privilege of calling her own. It might even deter some of the more avid fangirls. That thought made her laugh, and she tried to muffle the sound on Rowan’s chest. 

“What is it?” He asked, a thumb grazing over her cheek. 

“When that book comes out you’re going to break some hearts,” Aelin told him. 

His brows furrowed. “Why?”

Aelin propped herself up on his chest, tracing the patterns of his tattoos. “Because you love me, and just me. All those girls who have been fawning over you will finally know where your heart lies.”

Rowan chuckled, catching her hand and laying it over said heart. “With you.”

“Just so you know, I won’t be outdone by this, your little declaration,” Aelin said. “I’ll have to think of something more… something better.”

“I look forward to it,” Rowan said, sounding all too pleased by the challenge she had set herself. “So. Through my words and deeds, have I given you sufficient declarations of my love for you?”

Aelin pushed herself up and brushed back Rowan’s hair, contemplating her answer. Then she smirked at him before she kissed him deeply, leaving him breathless when she broke away just enough to give him her answer. “Not quite yet, I think I need a few more. Just to be sure.”

~~~~~

These two make me so happy

@rowaelinscourt

[toasted-valentine]

Still Got Adamandi Details I’m Not Normal About, So Here They Are

A lot of these are going to make me sound like a massive fucking nerd lol

•Beatrix slapping Vincent’s hand away when he tries to grab the archive records from the table.

•Beatrix clearly not wanting to be there during the first two interviews, then just relaxing and teasing Vincent during their interview with him since they’re friends. The switch from strict professionalism to being a bit more playful is a good way of establishing that the two already know each other and are comfortable with one another, especially the opening line about Beatrix not knowing Vincent’s middle name. It’s just a simple thing, but gets the point across well.

•All of Portia’s reaction, highlights include the sweet to surprised one during the beginning of A Little More in Love and her “I’m not mad, just disappointed” look during Ghost Writer.

•The little flourish Beatrix does with the pencil during The One Who Pulls The Strings, I’m curious how many times the actor accidentally stabbed themself before they got that down lol

•This is something I notice gets done in both TAOPP and Adamandi, with the same actor too. The actor for Ambrose and Rowan changes the pitch of their voice and how high the notes they hit are depending on how vulnerable the character is being. Higher is more vulnerable and expressive, lower is more closed off. Extra fucked up points for the fact Ambrose’s notes get higher after he fucking dies.

•I’m going to be a massive music nerd for a minute, my music analysis skills are a bit rusty, so forgive me if I’m a bit wrong. The motif I like to call the “Beatrix Does A Bad Thing” motif. It plays whenever Beatrix does something wrong, it’s the skeleton of their three major songs. Starts with The One Who Pulls The Strings, gets a bit more complicated in the reprise, and is at full force in Ghost Writer. It’s like a building monster, first the bones, then the muscle, then the creature itself.

•The actors for The Saints and the other Phaethon nominees are the same people, so Vincent does in fact cut The Saints up lmao

•The glowing under Ambrose’s shirt goes from a visual of his muscles hardening to a show of his slit throat, which is evil and I love it.

•Beatrix covers their eyes and looks away when Quincy stabs Vincent, I can’t tell if it’s the fact they can’t stomach the murder, or if they fucking got blood on their face and that’s why they’re staring at their hand in horror when Portia comes on stage. It’s also a good transition motion to guide the audience’s eyes from the killing blow to them. They couldn’t actually use blood on stage, stage blood has to be minimal since it’s sticky, stains costumes, and is difficult to get rid of for continuity, so reaction shots like that get the point across well.

•Beatrix has a ring on in The Other Side of Failure, might be just a show that time has passed, or it could be that it’s to help them remember stuff but they’re no longer being tugged around on strings by the admin. Or crackpot theory, it’s one of Portia’s rings from earlier in the show, but I can’t tell if it’s the same one since none of the shots I’ve dug through are close enough to get details.

•The little hand motions Beatrix does in the show are mimicking a puppeteer pulling strings.

•The admins red coloration call back to Beatrix’s red string, it’s a visual callback to the fact she’s being strung along by them and manipulated. The Admin have it on their cloak collars too, keeping the collar in their designs.

•In Read All About It, one of the chorus actors fucks up their newspaper and forgets to close it when they’re supposed to with the others. It’s just something that makes me chuckle, cause you can see how fucking stressed they are about it, and that they close it when they pass behind Beatrix’s actor cause they didn’t think the camera would catch it lol

•When The Admin lift their arms in Read All About It Beatrix does the same, and when the music cuts out they’re super confused on what just happened and are staring at the newspapers contemplating what they just did.

•I just realized that the marks on Ambrose’s face in the second act weren’t meant to guide where his chisel was, but was a guide for where Vincent had to cut.

•Ambrose looks flattered when Quincy says their professor led a moment of silence, even in death he has his head up his own ass.

•Ambrose is projecting so fucking hard on Vincent during Sound Body Sound Mind, and it makes me laugh.

•There is a continuity error in Oh, Ms. Reporter! The drawers had red strings in them in the previous scene and during the wide shots, but they aren’t there during the close ups.

•This is just a story note, but it’s clever that they had Portia get a better position in The Daily. It serves a duel purpose in the narrative, it emphasizes the fact Rosswell has implicit bias and that she picks the person whose more white passing instead of the more skilled Latina with seniority, and gives an explanation to how they managed to get the article about Vincent and The Admin published. Beatrix wouldn’t have been able to on her own, but Portia’s position allows them greater access to The Daily’s resources.

•In Me, Myself, and I, I think the actor for Ambrose accidentally made their microphone crackle and you can actually hear a small pop in the recording, dude performed so hard the equipment had a small stroke. You can only hear it in the album tho.

•The is just a music thing, Vincent slowing down for his part to explain why being loved is great in Me, Myself, and I serves the music in giving a brief breath of air so when it comes back it feels like it’s going faster and more frantic. It’s a really common technique to make something feel like it’s going faster when it’s keeping a consistent, just had a short slow down.

•Ambrose grabs Vincent’s face during Student Body, it’s creepy, thanks I hate it. The actor for Ambrose did not have to put that much effort into being unsettling, but they did, and they made Ambrose as likable as he is in the show.

•Everything the actor for Ambrose does when the character dies, they’re jerking around like a corpse that’s gone stiff from decomposing. Give them a medal for managing to be the creepiest mf in that show, and keep them ten feet away from me because it kind of freaks me out.

•The little transition in Oh, Ms. Reporter of the chorus members spelling out Ambrose’s name but Vincent cutting it off to continue his song. It’s a creative lyrical moment and hints to the fact that Vincent cut Ambrose’s life short.

•A couple of the people who Vincent mention’s in Oh, Ms. Reporter are actual some of the people Beatrix was interviewing in the first act, you can hear them saying their names when they’re all yelling over each other.

•The little pieces of advice the main four give Portia during A Word to the Wise are foreshadowing. Ambrose trying to be perfect gets him killed, Quincy’s ambition and academic perfectionism causes them to snap, Vincent deciding to murder people instead of an actual project since there isn’t a use of trying anything else, Beatrix being a bystander and waiting to “do something great” gets people killed.

•Whoever wrote the line “What use is a candle if both ends aren’t burning?” is a menace to society and I want to give them all the money in my wallet, because Quincy burns both their hands later on, and that’s evil.

•The mic on Beatrix’s actor accidentally picks up them tapping the notebook too hard during The One Who Pulled the String, just something I find funky.

•Apollo was the god of young men, being eternally youthful, but was also the god of plagues and disease. Ambrose wants to be the white ideal of an eternally twinkish gay trans guy, but ends up falling victim to Vincent, who compares his actions to a disease killing someone.

•The music used to introduce Beatrix into Me, Myself, and I is the same as the beginning of Read All About It, they’re doubting their actions, and their mind is racing like the music.

•Vincent tries fucking squaring up with the other Ardess students during A Word to The Wise when Quincy is about to jump, dude just is ready to throw hands, it’s great.

•Ambrose tries to defend Vincent from the others, but turns around and betrays him after.

•I like the little spin that Roswell does to Beatrix, she’s getting them confused so she can take advantage.

•Vincent and Quincy aren’t singing during the “And two or three students like you” part, but Beatrix is because she’s internalized the racism of Ardess and is trying to fit in.

•Beatrix just is not having a good time during the interviews, and you can see them get annoyed when the nominees try sucking up to them.

•Fun little thing, they get around the fact Beatrix’s actor can’t spin around like the others when the names are read out during A Word to The Wise by having them stagger and open their arms. It’s a little thing, but gets around that nicely.

•When everyone starts stomping to the beat at the end of A Word to the Wise you can see Portia hesitate to join in, start slowly, then join in fully in the end and begin to sing with the others.

•The poses everyone strike at the end of A Word to the Wise actually have a lot of personality in them, Ambrose is being a dramatic dude bro, Quincy is stiff and nervous, Vincent stands out by having their hand to their chest, Portia is hopeful, and Beatrix just continues to smoke and seem disinterested.

•The “I don’t know, do you have any ideas?” guy is the funniest mf in the room.

•The A papers during Perfect at School form a halo. Again, the people who made this are evil and I love that for them.

•The umbrellas in Where Can I Run harken back to a funeral environment, which is nice foreshadowing that death follows Vincent everywhere for most of the show.

•Vincent wants to go home back to China, wants to go back to his family, to the environment he knows, but he’s stuck at Ardess. Without that degree he’s got nothing, he’d be a complete failure, so they’re stuck at a school they hate surrounded by people who hate them with only two people that like being around them.

•I want to find whoever decided to have Quincy accidentally smack Vincent in the face when he goes to kiss them during the first act as foreshadowing to the fact Quincy later harms Vincent, buy them dinner, and then make them pay for my therapy bills.

•I want to know what god the actor for Beatrix had to kill in order to gender so fucking hard. What kind of sacrilegious actions did they have to commit to win that?

•The newspaper that Beatrix’s actor has in one hand during The One Who Pulls the Strings is a random Princeton one and you can see the university’s name during some of the close ups lol

•During A Little More in Love you can see Ambrose’s actor getting ready for their cue under the bookshelf in a few shots.

•I find it funny that Portia hugs Quincy after A Little More in Love while Beatrix just looks offended and brushes Vincent off. Motherfucking Beatrix, blue hair and pronouns, Campbell tried denying the homosexuality allegations and is failing.

•This maybe speculation, but I think the reason Ambrose’s chest is highlighted in red is because he’s trying to work out enough to make his chest smaller. My friend actually does this, a lot of trans masc gym rats do.

•Vincent “Oh, Ms. Reporter!” Lin denies stalking people.

•Vincent keeps writing in their notebook during Sound Body Sound Mind, you can see them pull it out when they go to hide under the ladders.

•Vincent only calls Ambrose by his name instead of Bassford after killing him.

•I like Ambrose getting annoyed at Preston and Adrian not doing the kick line right lol

•I don’t know what Mandela affect bullshit is going on, but I always thought Ambrose kept the pages from Vincent’s notebook, and I have no clue where I got that idea from.

•I like that Portia starts wit “Hi hi!” when she’s nervous, and that she’s so frazzled trying to interview Beatrix that she can’t find a pencil and Beatrix has to give theirs to her. It’s just a cute little bit of character building. Beatrix actually pulls the pencil out from behind her ear, which is also a nice little bit of characterization.

•As soon as the interview starts Beatrix starts wrapping one of their strings around their fingers to try and not forget what they’re lying about. If you pay attention to what the actor is doing with their hands the entire show you can catch a few little fun character building bits like that.

•In the wide shots of the Beatrix and Portia interview scene you can see Beatrix start to stress smoke when Portia compliments them and says they should’ve gotten nominated. Mf feels the weight of her lies on her back real fast lol

•Beatrix sits like a bisexual, and I find that funny.

•Vincent almost manages to talk Ambrose down, but when Quincy gets brought up he almost starts crying and gets violently angry. So close there bud, so close.

•When Beatrix’s actor starts doing their funky little hand motions in Me, Myself, and I it’s actually on cue with the music, reference to Beatrix pulling the strings. They also move their hands on cue to Ambrose and Quincy singing “me, myself, and I” and on cue for when the singing stops. Nice touch.

•The person who Vincent takes the place of during Me, Myself, and I is who saw him fleeing the gym. Just noticed it, that’s such a cool thing. Was super confused on why a chorus member was there, then I remembered the line in Read All About It.

•Portia is still editing articles in the background while Beatrix is having a crisis of morality in the foreground lol

•The actor for Vincent pulls off the ribbon trick to symbolize Ambrose’s death by grabbing the ribbon from the bag while moving towards the back of the stage, hiding their hand behind their back while they continue to sing, and pulling the ribbon out with his free hand when time comes. The song is so grand in scale that no one in the audience would be being attention to his hands.

•The flour cigarette trick is actually refilled a couple times when time allows it, you can see the actor for Beatrix puffing fake smoke out with it a few times, but can only do it once in a scene due to the limits of the trick.

•It is hilarious how disinterest Beatrix sounds when reading Ambrose’s memorial, they know it’s not true and are bored by it lol

•One of The Saint’s actors, Saint Jude specifically, has the remote for the candles in their hand and are the one controlling it during Litany of Martyrs. You can see them accidentally reveal it during one of the close up and quickly try to hide it in their sleeve.

•Saint Jude’s actor doesn’t actually tie the bandage onto Quincy’s hand right during Litany of Martyrs so the actor for Quincy just uses their thumbs to keep it in place.

•When Beatrix gets their strings caught in the typewriter, the mise en scene us is used to emphasize how small The Prize Section is by having Portia sit on the glorified nightstand Beatrix is using as a desk instead of an actual chair.

•Vincent puts his feet up on the “desk” when he breaks into The Prize Section office, which is apparently a habit of theirs since they also do it when Beatrix is interviewing them.

•Adrian and Preston’s actors aren’t on stage as their characters until Oh, Ms. Reporter! because they’re also chorus members in Read All About it, so needed time to get changed and get their makeup done.

•The Saints are mimicking hellfire during I Hate and I Love, creepy as fuck, but one hell of a visual. They’re still there when Quincy is talking to Portia too, like goddamn, leave them alone you weird religious bongos.

•You can see Beatrix’s actor struggling to keep their glasses on their face the entire show, and it is the funniest thing to me, because I have similar glasses and I know how much of a pain in the ass they are to keep on when trying to move around quick.

•Of course English major Beatrix would correct Portia’s grammar when she’s trying to tell them that Vincent is the killer.

•I find it funny you can see Beatrix mouth “fuck” when Portia goes to raid The Prize Section for information after suggesting they stop Vincent.

•Alright, I think the way they spliced together the audio and video for the YouTube version is with two dress rehearsals and the two nights the show was put on combine. The dress rehearsals are the close ups, but you can tell which one of them came first based on the costume for Beatrix. The earlier one has gloves with the tags still on and the red string in the second act is shorter, plus they used to have a flower pin on the jacket but lost it for the actual show. The audio is from the actual performances from show night asides from a few bits where they needed to cut the audience’s reaction out, but the music on the album is a mix of all of them and just the best takes they had put together. It’s why the mic cracking on Ambrose’s actor can be heard on the album but not on the YouTube version, in the YouTube version the audio tech didn’t turn Vincent’s actor’s mic on in time during his part, so they had to use the cracked audio for the album.

•The Admin are casually homophobic and racist towards Quincy and Vincent during their meeting, actively try to divide them, and I want to kick all of them in the skull. You can see just how manipulative they are, calling Quincy and Vincent’s relationship a friendship, openly insulting Vincent, hinting that Quincy is being held back, they’re so fucking bitchy and I want them to get slapped with a tuna.

•You can see the different mentalities Quincy and Vincent have with how they react to the admin, Quincy is acceptance, and Vincent would definitely kill them all if possible. I love the “bullshit” line so much.

•I love and hate how hurt Vincent gets when Quincy accuses them of not caring. The entire Where Can I Run (Reprise) scene is so good, Quincy shoving Vincent off, the ghosts dragging Vincent’s jacket off them, both their parts being haunted by their respective demons with The Saints and the ghosts of The Marmorius.

•Explanation of the staging trick used to make it look like Beatrix and Portia’s actors are kissing. It’s a really old trick, but a useful one. The actors are both about the same height so it’s possible, they quickly press their foreheads together, turn, and the lights dim. They aren’t actually kissing, but the quick motion of it, the fact you can’t see their faces, and the dark lighting hides it. It’s also why Quincy and Vincent’s actors couldn’t do that, Vincent’s actor stands solidly at chest height with Quincy’s actor, and it would look too awkward to have them kiss like that. Quincy’s actor would have to bend down, and that would look really weird.

•Vincent calling his murders the “smoothest” murders just make me think of him being a smooth criminal lmfao

•The prop for Quincy’s notebook during I Hate and I Love and Vincent’s notebook for The Other Side of Failure are the same notebook, just a basic molskine I think.

•The boots for Beatrix’s costume don’t have laces because those are doc martens, and doc marten laces are a pain in the fucking ass to keep tied, so they just are using zip ups lol

[ezrabridgerwrites]

Alex/Rowan: [ TUCKING ] receiver finds sender asleep somewhere and puts a blanket or their own coat over them

“Can you tell Alex to pick up my shaving cream on the way home?” Chad said in lieu of a hello, his grating voice filtering through the tinny speaker of Rowan’s phone.

Immediately, Rowan jammed it in between his ear and his shoulder to keep it in place while he hit pause on the screen in front of him, halting the playback of the recording they’d been messing around on. 

His hand returned to grip his phone while the other tiredly raked its way through his curls. He and Alex had been at the song for hours now, occasionally taking breaks to order pizza, feed the cats downstairs and, on one occasion, rewatch a good chunk of Rugrats in Paris because Rowan, in a fit of wide-eyed paranoia, had suddenly worried that they were plagiarising one of the melodies from it. They hadn’t, but the two of them had been too enraptured by Reptar and their agreed insistence that Pacific Rim copied this to shut down Netflix anyway. 

All in all, their work had stretched late into the night and they were both exhausted which was probably why Rowan grew uncharacteristically bored and asked Chad, “Why can’t you ask her yourself?”

His teeth sank into his chapped bottom lip when he heard Chad sigh through the phone.

“You think I’d go through you if I had the choice? Her phone went straight to voicemail. I figured it died,” Chad spat, clearly rattled.

Rowan frowned and leaned over to where Alex’s phone lay abandoned by the keyboard. He tapped it but the screen remained stubbornly black so he supposed he’d give Chad that one, at least.

He leaned back in his chair, hearing it creak underneath in his weight. He turned to Alex, opening his mouth to get her attention when he realised she was passed out on the sofa, sleeping soundly, her hand still loosely holding the notepad she’d been using to write down lyrics. His gaze stayed on her for a moment.

“Rowan… Rowan? Oh my god, man, are you even listening to me?” Chad’s voice filtered back into his consciousness and Rowan jerked, a little more alert.

“Yeah. Sorry. Yeah. I’ll tell her,” he said. Absently, he pulled his phone away from his ear and hung up, cutting off Chad mid-sentence but not particularly caring.

His socked feet pushed against his rug, using it to wheel the chair over to the sofa so he could peer down at Alex. Reason said he should gently rouse her, shake her shoulder maybe. But she looked so peaceful and she’d told Rowan earlier she hadn’t been sleeping well lately. Chad snored, which he could easily believe. 

After a quiet moment of deliberation, he reached behind him and tugged his jacket from where it had been hanging off the back of the chair. Gently, he draped it across Alex’s sleeping form, wincing a little when he noticed all the cat hair that was clinging to it. Figuring she wouldn’t mind much, he reached out to tuck down the collar so it wouldn’t tickle her nose, fingers lingering a little by her dyed-orange hair before he caught himself and abruptly pulled back.

Then, he reached for his phone again and set an alarm for an hour from now before reclining in his own chair and closing his eyes.

Chad could wait for his shaving cream until then.

[acourtofquestions]

Despair shone in her eyes. True despair, without light or hope. The sort of despair that wished for death. The sort of despair that began to erode strength, to eat away at any resolve to endure. She blinked at him. Four times. I am here, I am with you. Fenrys knew it for what it was. The final message. Not before death, but before the sort of breaking that no one would walk away from. Before Maeve returned with the Wyrdstone collar.

But to take Aelin in the chains, when she was so frantic to be free of them... Aelin's eyes opened. They were empty. Wholly drained. A warrior accepting defeat. Elide blurted, scrambling for anything to banish that emptiness.

Another blink, her face so hollow and cold. Tired.

Her face was pale--so pale, all traces of the sun-kissed coloring gone. And empty. Aware, and yet not. Wary.

— And exhaustion. Such exhaustion —

Aelin curled on her side next to him, flames encompassing them both.

She clutched it at her chest as they walked, mile after mile, her feet bare. If the stones and roots of the forest hurt her, she didn't so much as flinch.

But Aelin paid them no heed, paid the world no heed, as she took up a spot between the fire and the cave wall, lay upon the bare stone, and closed her eyes.

Aelin's throat bobbed as she whispered, "I'm so tired, Rowan." His heart strained again. "I know, Fireheart."

He didn't know what to say, what to do other than to gently pull her fingers from her palms. "Did you buy the swagger, the arrogance?" she demanded, voice breaking. "Did the others? Because I've been trying to. I've been trying like hell to convince myself that it's real, reminding myself I only need to pretend to be how I was just long enough. Long enough to forge the Lock and die. He said softly, "I know, Aelin." He hadn't bought the winks and smirks for a heartbeat. Aelin let out a sob that cracked something in him. "I can't feel me---myself anymore. It's like she snuffed it out. Ripped me from it. She, and Cairn, and everything they did to me." She gulped down air, and Rowan wrapped her in his arms and pulled her onto his lap. "I am so tired," she wept. "I am so, so tired, Rowan." "I know." He stroked her hair. "I know." It was all there really was to say. Rowan held her until her weeping eased and she lay still, nestled against his chest. "I don't know what to do," she whispered. "You fight," he said simply. "We fight. Until we can't anymore. We fight."

Fenrys lifted his head, his eyes as hollow as she knew hers had been. "Whenever you need to talk about it," she said, her voice still hoarse, "I'm here.

[spacesquidlings]

One-Of-A-Kind

Enamoured by the sight of his bite marks on his wife's neck, Gavin has an idea for something unique to show that she belongs to him, something entirely one of a kind

Pairing: Gavin Bai x MC (Rowan) Tags: 18+ readers only, light sub/dom dynamics, unbearably horny Gavin, light bdsm, collaring, f!receiving blow jobs, possessive Gav, soft dom Gav, vaginal sex, fluff at the end I swear I SWEAR taglist: @aluneposting

The touch of Gavin’s fingers had been soft as he’d brushed their calloused pads across Rowan’s collarbones, a little line forming between his brow as his eyes had fallen to the hickies that dotted her neck.

He hummed, deep in thought as he trailed his finger over a line of them, pausing as his thumb brushed over the deep in the middle of her collarbone.

“Rowan,” he said, his voice measured and slow, soft as spun sugar.

She hummed, already half asleep, the warmth of the bed sheets tucked around her flushed skin making her drowsy. Steam from their bath wafted from the open bathroom door, filling the bedroom with the smell of lavender and rose and eucalyptus and all the sweet smelling things Gavin always let her use in their baths together.

He chuckled, brushing a strand of hair back from her cheek. “Pumpkin, are you asleep already?”

She nodded, rolling onto her side so she could bury her face against his chest, his skin still warm from the bath. “You smell really nice, babey.”

He snorted, the hand at her neck sliding up to cup her cheek. “Thank you, although you’re the one who picked out the soaps.”

“Mmm, I have really good taste.”

“The best taste.”

She sighed. “I love you, babey.”

He chuckled. “I have to ask you something important, sweetheart. Do you think you can stay awake for a few more minutes?”

She cracked one eye open, peeking up at him. “I can do my best, babey.”

He traced her collarbone, his brow furrowing. “And know that you can say no if you want to.”

She opened both eyes now, pushing past her fatigue to give him her full attention.

His cheeks were flushed a soft pink, his ears already crimson. “Well I wanted to try something, if you’re comfortable with it.”

***

Months passed after that initial conversation, and it had faded almost entirely from Rowan’s mind, despite how much time Gavin had been spending in the garage since then.

Their garage was big enough for Gavin to set up a dedicated space for some of his craftier hobbies, and he usually kept most of his tools for jewellery making out there.

And yet, despite how many trips he’d made to the craft store, and how much time he’d been spending hunched over his worktable, Rowan had almost completely forgotten why exactly he’d been working so diligently over the last two months.

It was still morning, soft golden light bleeding through the drawn curtains, casting rosy light across the bed as Rowan cracked open her sleep-heavy eyes.

Gavin was already wide awake, propped up on his elbow, a box wrapped in ocean blue wrapping paper lying on the pillow between them.

“Good morning,” she said, her voice still heavy with sleep. “Babey, why are you up so early?”

He shrugged. “I wanted to get my morning workout in.”

She rolled her eyes, tugging the blanket up over her head. “You left me?”

He chuckled. “I had planned to go out, but you looked so cute I couldn’t stand leaving you.”

She peaked out from beneath the blanket. “Well I’m glad you stayed, I love waking up next to you.”

He sighed, leaning down to kiss her. “I love waking up next to you.”

She smiled blissfully, bubbly delight spilling through her veins like champagne.

“Are you going to open your present?” Gavin asked, his eyes glittering with mischief.

She narrowed her eyes, her focus shifting to the neatly wrapped package. “What is it?”

Gavin hummed, his eyes twinkling, the tips of his ears pink, as he pushed it towards her. “Open it and find out.”

She slipped her hands out from beneath the blankets, dragging the box towards her and back underneath the sheets.

Gavin snorted, trying to pull the blankets back. “What are you doing?”

“Saving it for later,” she mumbled, struggling to keep the blankets up. “I want snuggles right now.”

He grinned as he managed to wrestle the sheets away from her, pulling them back to reveal where she’d hidden the box. “You can have snuggles in a minute.”

Rowan tried pulling the blankets back up over her, but all her attempts were futile against Gavin’s iron grip.

She yawned, plucking the little package from where she’d tried to hide it, playing with the golden ribbons that had been tied around it. “It’s so pretty though, I don’t want to ruin it.”

“I promise that what’s inside is far prettier.” He hummed, leaning down again to trail kisses along her jaw. “Although nowhere near as pretty as you, pumpkin.”

She giggled, his breath tickling her skin, her fingers sinking into his hair as his lips moved to her cheek, to the corner of her own lips.

Gavin bumped his nose against hers, cupping her face with one hand. “Will you open it? It’s one-of-a-kind, just for you.”

She nodded, warmth washing over her as Gavin’s soft, honey-sweet words danced through the air. As he watched her with his starlit eyes, with that sweet little smile curling across his lips.

How could she ever say no to him?

She sat up, tearing the wrapping paper away to reveal a plain brown box. She lifted the lid, revealing two necklaces on delicate silver chains.

The first chain was longer, about as long as the chain Gavin’s tags hung from, with a small silver key attached. It was simple, with no intricate designs or shapes on the handle.

The second chain was shorter, and Rowan figured it was closer in size to a choker, with a delicate pendant that was likely meant to rest at the collarbone. This one was slightly more intricate than the simple key, with an array of curving, interlocking lines, the way they curled over each other reminiscent of the way the wind moves through the trees. Cerulean blue gems had been embedded in the spaces between the lines, like fragments of the sky. 

There were four blue gems in total, glittering as they caught the rosy sunlight that managed to sneak through the curtains, casting rainbows across the messy blankets. But there was a fifth space in the centre, and in the place of a blue gem was a golden one, smaller than the others, seeming to hover between the curved silver lines with nothing fixing it in place. As if the wind alone held it in place.

It was the colour of Gavin’s eyes, the gold of starlight, of summer sunbeams washing over ocean waves, of melted gold, of gingko leaves in the autumn. The colour of joy, of what she imagined love looked like, if it could be made tangible.

She ran her fingers over the little gem, smiling softly, because of how much it reminded her of him. Because of how warm it made her feel, happiness bubbling in her heart, the same gold of this little gem, of his eyes.

On the other side of the necklace was a small lock mechanism, which Rowan quickly realized fit the key from the other chain perfectly.

She flushed instantly, heat racing across her cheeks and down her throat as the realization struck her.

Gavin had asked her, months ago, on a night when he couldn’t stop staring at her throat and the bite marks he’d placed there, about what she’d thought about wearing a collar. For him. Something subtle that only he would really know about. Something that would show that she was his.

Her face had burned then the way it did now, and she felt as though she would catch flame. Her core grew tight, and she felt warmth blooming between her legs as she looked at the collar, at the key, up at Gavin’s twinkling eyes.

She set the collar back into the box, nestled between crumpled pieces of tissue paper. “Gavin, it’s beautiful.”

The little smile that had danced across his face blossomed wider, turning into a dazzling grin that stole her breath away. It was so open, so clearly delighted and pleased with her response, with himself.

Gavin brushed her hair back from her face, his eyes brighter than starlight now. “It’s one-of-a-kind, nothing else like it exists.” His voice grew lower, rougher, and he leaned forward to catch her lips in another kiss. “Just like you.”

Her eyes fell closed without thought, her mind already gone as she felt his fingers thread through her unkempt hair. She tipped her head back, wanting more, wanting him. She felt heat and tension blooming in her core, felt a wetness pooling between her legs already.

He was just so sweet, and it took so little for her to melt in his arms. He was her husband, her Gavin, how could she not?

“So what do you think, pumpkin?” He asked, his eyes meeting hers as he pulled away. His cheeks were flushed the same soft pink that stained the sheets from the morning sunshine, and it made her heart stumble, made her feel like there were butterflies in her stomach, in her chest.

She looked back down at the box in her hand, the wrapping paper crumpled and strewn across the pillow. She looked at the silver key, at the collar and its glittering gems. She could hear his voice echoing in the back of her mind, asking her if it would be okay, if she would be willing to try it with him.

“I think it’s beautiful,” she said, smiling up at him. She played with the chain that held the silver key, holding it up to him. “And we’ll kind of match.”

He chuckled, relief flickering in his eyes as he covered her hand with his, bringing it up to his lips. “I’m glad.”

She snorted as he brushed kisses against the back of her hand. “Babey, what are you doing?”

“Showing you that I love you.”

She giggled, his words tickling her skin as he spoke. “You always do that. You did that last night.”

A crimson flush crept up his neck and jaw, reaching into his hairline and washing over his ears. “Well, I can never stop loving you enough.”

Now it was Rowan’s turn to flush, her face hotter than before. Her voice was little more than a crackling squeak as she spoke. “You’re a dork, Gavin.”

He kissed her hand once more before setting it against the blankets, a blissfully happy look on his face. “I know.”

He reached into the box, lifting both chains, the key and the pendant swinging through the air, casting rainbows across the bed as they caught the light. “Can I-?”

She nodded, butterfly wings fluttering in her chest and her belly. She twisted so her back was towards him, sweeping her hair up from the back of her neck.

She heard the click of the lock as Gavin opened it, felt his lips brush against the spot between her neck and her shoulder. A shiver raced down her spine as he settled the collar against throat, the metal cool against her skin.

She sucked in a breath as she felt the chain tighten around her throat, the click of the lock shutting sweeping across her senses. Gavin kissed the back of her neck again, trailing his lips to the side, pushing her sleeve aside to scatter kisses along her shoulder. As if to say a silent thank you, to show his pleasure without words.

He pulled away, and she felt a finger caress the skin beneath the chain, as though he were already enamoured with it.

“Turn around,” he said, the quietness of his words doing little to disguise the roughness of his voice, how low it had become, sinking into her senses and making her core ache. “I want to see how you look.”

Rowan turned back around, hoping she didn’t look too silly. She was still flushed, her skin burning so hot it was a miracle she hadn’t set the blankets on fire yet.

She found Gavin’s eyes first, dark and hazy with desire. His cheeks were flushed too, and had she pressed her palms to his chest she would have felt the beat of his heart, felt the way it faltered and tripped in its erratic tempo.

He cupped her face with one hand, the other tracing the skin around where the pendant lay above her collarbone. “You’re so beautiful.”

She wanted to look away, to close her eyes and press her face against his shoulder, his chest, anywhere so she could hide how she felt her emotions beginning to overwhelm her. They spilled from her heart, racing through her veins like storming ocean waves, threatening to drag her down as they crashed against her mind again and again and again.

But she could not look away from Gavin, not when he was looking at her the way he was. Like she was the entire universe, like she contained all the stars and the planets.

“And you’re mine,” he murmured, running the pad of his finger over the pendant, keeping his eyes locked onto her, holding her in place. “My wife, my stars, my moon, my everything.”

The warmth that flowed through her now was different, so much different from what she had felt earlier. This was softer, like the sunbeams that slipped through the curtains to warm their room. Like her favourite blanket wrapped around her during a storm. Like a mug of something warm clasped between her hands. Like spiced wine touching her lips, fogging her mind.

‘My everything’

He kissed her, and she felt as if she was surely drunk, her mind so hazy from his words, her body turning to jelly from a simple touch.

The kiss was soft and gentle, at odds with the way his voice had dipped earlier. Even the way he drew her bottom lip between his teeth was tender, little more than a nip. One hand remained at her throat, still seeming enchanted by the collar. The other fell to the small of her back, the pressure from his palm drawing her closer.

She was breathless when he finally pulled away, although if she was being honest she was always breathless around him. She rested her head in the crook of his neck, listening to him hum as he rubbed her back.

“Can I have those snuggles now?” She murmured, her voice muffled against his shirt.

Gavin chuckled, shifting his arms around her so that he was cradling her against his chest. “Of course you can.”

“Can we lay down, too? I’m still sleepy.”

“As you wish, sweetheart.”

He swiped the empty box and torn wrapping paper to the side, the silver chain and key that hung from his own neck glinting as it caught the light. He laid back against the pillow, tucking her head beneath his chin as he pulled the blankets up over them.

“How’s that?” He asked, rubbing her back again.

“Very comfy.”

She felt his laughter reverberate through his chest, and she smiled as it danced through the room like the errant sunbeams skittering across the floor now.

They lay there for a long while, a drowsy haze washing over them as the warmth of the blankets and their tangled bodies drew them towards unconsciousness. Rowan’s eyes were so heavy it was impossible for her to fight against her own drowsiness.

When she awoke again Gavin was still curled around her, playing with her hair while she slept cocooned in his embrace.

“Sleep well?” He murmured, his fingertips brushing against her scalp as he ran his fingers through her messy hair.

“Mmhmm,” she cuddled closer, closing her eyes again. “I sleep best with you.”

“Well you can have me all day if you’d like,” he said, smiling.

“You’re off today?” Her voice was still heavy from sleep, and it cracked as her excitement piqued.

“I’m off for the next few days since we finished up that last case.”

She sighed, twisting the material of his sleep shirt between her fingers. “I wish we could cuddle all day, but I do have a few errands to run.”

He brushed her hair back from her cheek, stroking her jaw before his hand sank back into her hair. “What kind of errands?”

“Groceries, we’re both almost out of shampoo, the light in the living room is flickering, and Stella needs to be taken to the groomers.”

“So what you’re saying is that we can spend the day together?” He asked, his hand resting at the nape of her neck.

She quirked a brow in bemusement. “You want to spend the day running errands with me?”

“As long as I’m by your side, I don’t really care what we do.”

She whined, nuzzling her face against his chest. “You’re too sweet, Gavin Bai, and it’s not fair.”

He snorted, his finger brushing over the collar as he trailed his hand down the side of her neck. “I’m not allowed to want to spend time with my wife?”

“You are,” she muttered. “But you’re way too sweet, I don’t know what to do.”

“You could kiss me,” he teased, pinching her waist. “Or you could let me go with you while you run errands.”

“Can I do both?” She asked, squirming as he pinched her waist again.

“Of course you can do both, pumpkin.”

She tipped her head back, scattering kisses along his jaw. “Okay, but I want ten more minutes in bed.”

His hand brushed the collar again, his thumb running over the glittering pendant. “Anything for you, my love.”

Now Rowan snorted, smacking his hand away so he didn’t pinch or poke her side again. “And I want waffles for breakfast. And to go to a few stores I like before coming home.”

He pulled the blankets up around her shoulders, keeping her warm. “As you wish.”

***

Two plates of toasted waffles and eggs followed after Gavin was finally able to convince Rowan to let him carry her from the bed. She whined the entire way to the kitchen, earning Stella’s attention as she followed behind them, her fluffy tail wagging as she listened to Rowan’s complaints.

She demanded the strawberry waffles they had in the freezer, and Gavin had only just placed them in the toaster when she asked if they had any eggs left.

While he wasn’t proficient at making much of anything, he had gotten much better at making simple breakfast foods, like fried or scrambled eggs.

“If we have any left we should use them up, and then we can get a fresh carton,” she said, scooping out Stella’s breakfast and pouring it into her bowl.

So Gavin fried the eggs, adding the last of their cheese to the eggs as they cooked.

Rowan smiled as the food cooked, cupping her chin between her palms as she sat at the table, her eyes drooping closed.

While she had offered to help, Gavin had gently pressed her back into the chair, telling her to just sit, to relax. She was always preparing food for him, a light breakfast to take to work, filling lunches accompanied by little notes telling him that she loved him and was proud of him, warm and hearty dinners that were made up of more than noodles.

He could cook for her. He could make food for her. She deserved to be taken care of.

The collar around her neck sparkled beneath the kitchen lights, the blue gems reminding him of the glittering ocean waves she loved so much, the ones he took her to see as often as he could. The middle gem glittered beneath a stream of sunlight, and his chest grew tight as rainbows fell across the tiled floor.

He’d grown selfish when he’d chosen that final gem. The blue had been for the ocean, for the skies, for the blue flowers that had started blooming in the front yard when she’d first moved in.

But the gold had been for him. He’d done his best to match it to his eyes, the shades nearly identical.

It was meant to show that she was his, and how could the collar show that she was his unless it was connected to him somehow.

The chair scraped against the floor as she stood, the pendant swaying slightly as she moved, and Gavin felt his pants growing tighter around his cock.

Head washed over him, crawling across his face and down his throat and chest, and he was tempted to throw cold water over his head to calm himself down.

The day was going to be busy, he couldn’t detract it right now. He couldn’t let this get the best of him now. If he did then nothing would get done.

The chain around her neck seemed to move like quicksilver, the gems reflecting the light around the kitchen, hanging just above his favourite place to leave hickies along her throat.

He swallowed, focusing on the eggs, on the smell of the oil and the pepper and the rosemary and the basil he’d added. On anything other than the idea of pressing his lips to her skin, of drawing her skin between his teeth, of the cool kiss of the chain against his cheek as he focused his ministrations there, marking her there as surely as the collar marked her as his.

Gavin bit down on his tongue, realizing that he was horrible at trying to redirect his thoughts.

He turned towards the stove, glaring down at the eggs so Rowan wouldn’t see how hard he’d already become in the span of a few moments.

The boxers he wore made everything worse, of course. They were comfy and he liked wearing them after his post-morning run shower, but they were so loose that they did nearly nothing to hide his erection.

 He tensed as Rowan’s arms wrapped around his waist, and he felt his face burning as he scrambled to find something to distract himself.

The eggs were almost done, he should focus on the eggs. Should he add more oil? No, then they would be greasy and he didn’t want them to be greasy. Maybe he should add more cheese, he knew she liked cheese in her eggs.

But there wasn’t any left, he’d used the last of it so they could buy more at the grocery store.

“Babey,” she murmured, and her voice snapped him from his anxious thoughts immediately, sending fire scattering across his nerves.

It would be so easy to turn around now, to throw her over his shoulder and drag her back to their bedroom. Breakfast be damned, errands be damned. He wanted to feel the flutter of her pulse beneath his lips, wanted to cover her body in marks, wanted to feel her walls quivering around him, wanted to hear her cry his name, completely drunk on him and how he made her feel.

Gavin took one slow, shuddering breath, struggling to regain himself.

“I love you,” she breathed, her fingers twisting into his shirt, pulling the hem past the waist of his pajama pants and boxers.

“I love you too,” he said, cursing himself silently for how hoarse his voice sounded.

“I could’ve made breakfast you know,” she muttered, and it almost sounded like she was pouting.

He chuckled, relieved at the direction the conversation was taking his thoughts. “Can’t I take care of you?”

“You do plenty,” she whined, and now he was certain she was pouting.

“Well I want to take care of you a little more,” he said, flicking the stove off and moving the frying pan to a cold burner.

She whined a little more, and he could feel her face pressing against the space between his shoulder blades. “Fine.”

He shuffled to the side, his movement becoming difficult with her clinging to his back.

“Rowan,” he said, stifling a laugh. “I can hardly move.”

“That’s awfully unfortunate.”

He patted her hands, doing his best to reach for the plates he’d set on the counter and dividing up the eggs between them. “Well you’re going to have to let go when I sit down.”

“Can’t I just sit in your lap?”

He sighed, but he couldn’t stop himself from smiling, both from how cute she was and how relieved he was that the tightness in his pants had nearly vanished.

He was okay, he could get through the day.

He would get through the day

***

Gavin was starting to think that he would not make it through the day.

They had eaten breakfast, and Rowan had won out, situating herself on his lap as they’d eaten, Stella circling the table, looking for spills and scraps.

They’d dropped Stella off at the groomers first before heading to buy replacement light bulbs for the living room. Then they had to drive to the little hair supply store that Rowan loved, to pick up more shampoo.

It was, unfortunately, just outside the store that Gavin’s attention slipped to where the collar still lay against her throat.

She’d told him she was happy to keep wearing it as long as he’d wanted, and Gavin had needed to bite his tongue to stop himself from telling her that he wanted her to wear it forever. Until the end of time and past it.

Her fall jacket had shifted as she’d moved, revealing the collar beneath the golden autumn sun. She’d been reaching for the shop door with one hand, the other firmly clasped in Gavin’s.

Where it belongs.

He couldn’t stop the thought from surfacing in his mind, the possessive way his heart grew tight.

His. She was his.

That was his wife, his partner, his everything.

She looked back at him, smiling, and his breath caught in his throat, the familiar feeling of his cock growing hard making his vision dizzy.

He scratched at the back of his neck, doing his best to smile back at Rowan as she dragged him inside, chattering about how he wasn’t going to be able to argue his way through getting two-in-one shampoo.

But he couldn’t focus on what she was saying. He could hear her, he could register the sing-song sound of her voice curling through the air, but he didn’t hear the words. Didn’t understand what she was saying.

All he could register was the sound of the blood rushing to his head, the way the collar looked as it rested against her throat, the little lock that only he had the key to winking beneath the store’s fluorescent lights.

He tried to focus his attention on how the store smelled, how colourful some of the bottles were, how loud the music blaring through the speakers was.

He was just glad he’d been smart enough to change out his boxers for something that would hold him in place better.

Although nothing was going to be able to hide his dick if he wasn’t able to keep his thoughts very focused and very far from anything to do with Rowan.

Which was so hard when her hand was still in his, when he could smell the light floral perfume she wore, when he kept catching sight of the collar he’d spent months constructing just for her.

He wanted to drag her home and pin her against the bed. He wanted her in nothing but that collar. He wanted to pound her into the mattress until she was a breathless, moaning mess beneath him.

She was his after all, and he could do whatever he wanted with her.

Control yourself.

He was stronger than this, wasn’t he?

Gavin swallowed, struggling to focus on the bottles of hairspray lined up on the shelf in front of him. On controlling his breathing and calming his heartbeat.

We’re in a hair product store, come on man.

Rowan, completely oblivious to the turmoil in his mind and his pants, turned to him, beaming as she cradled the shampoos and conditioners in her arms. “Okay! I’ve got everything we need.”

“That looks like a lot more than you said we needed,” he said, his voice strained as he struggled to keep his tone even.

“Well I thought you could change up your shampoo and conditioner since you’ve been complaining your head feels kind of dry and itchy. And this one smells like roses!”

He snorted, focusing on the fact that she was holding shampoos. That they smelled like flowers. That she liked flowers and flower smells.

But his mind quickly wandered to how her skin would smell when he pressed his face against the space between her breasts. How the room would smell like spring flowers the warmer she got. How the soft flesh between her thighs always smelled so sweet.

He nearly hit himself over the head with one of the hair dryers on display to shove the thoughts from his mind.

He needed to focus on something else, on anything else.

But it felt like the more he tried to distract himself the more the thoughts persisted, growing worse with every passing moment.

First it was wanting to bite and suck at her throat until it was covered in marks. Then he wanted to mark the rest of her, her breasts, her stomach, her thighs, her ass.

He wanted her naked, wanted to bury his face between her thighs and raw out every moan and whine until she was a shaking mess. He wanted her only thought to be him, he wanted the only word on her lips to be his name.

He wanted to sink inside of her, wanted to make her cum again and again until her legs shook, until her body shuddered around every movement he made.

The autumn air was blessedly cool when they stepped outside, and Gavin sucked in a deep, shuddering breath as he beelined for the car. He focused on the feel of the wind, the way it rippled and undulated through the air. 

The air smelled different too, crisper now that they were into the fall. It was stained with the smell of warm spices coming from coffee shops and bakeries across the city, with an undercurrent of something earthy, promising rainfall soon to wash across the world.

He felt almost normal again by the time Rowan slid into the passenger seat, tossing the bag of hair products into the backseat.

He did his best to focus on the road as she chattered, asking him what he felt like having for dinner that night, so they could pick up something at the store.

He was almost confident he could make it through their day of errands until she reached out to squeeze his thigh, trying to draw his attention towards her.

“Can we get something to drink?” She asked, pointing to a little coffee shop she loved.

It was little more than a hole in the wall, but she loved going in, if only to clutch her paper coffee cup and wander through the small bookshelves behind the café counter.

Usually Gavin loved taking her into the store, loved holding her hand while she chatted, telling him about different books or trying to take a sip of his own drink.

But today Gavin couldn’t possibly fathom a detour. Especially not now that her hand was on his thigh, much too close for his liking right now.

Stars burst into his vision, and he squeezed the wheel until he was sure it would break, struggling to keep himself from swerving off the road.

“Maybe on the way home,” he offered, his voice a strangled remnant of what it normally was. But he didn’t have the energy to speak properly, not when he was struggling to keep something else in check.

“If we get it now it’ll get cold in the car while we’re in the store,” he continued, holding his breath as she nodded, retracting her hand.

“You’re probably right,” she said, slumping back against her seat. “But you owe me a coffee.”

He smiled, doing his best to keep his eyes locked on the road, to ignore the whiny tone of her voice, the way his cock twitched at the sound of it. “Anything for you.”

Any hope that Gavin could calm himself down enough to get through the rest of their errands fizzled out after they’d barely crossed the threshold of the grocery store.

Rowan had grabbed a cart, a small pink piece of paper with their grocery list scrawled across it in glittery gold clutched in one hand. He’d been trying to focus on the paper, on the first few things written at the top of the list, on the way the ink had smudged on the paper while she’d been writing it.

But then he’d noticed how the ink had smudged on her hand and fingers. And then he noticed the smudge of ink on her neck, just below her jaw, in the perfect place to kiss her. To suck at her skin until it was bruised from his lips.

Although there were other places perfect for that too. All across her chest, on the inside of her thighs, especially all over her neck, just above where the collar lay.

Gavin pinched the inside of his wrist before reaching for the cart and prying it from Rowan’s hands, swiftly moving behind it as he noticed the tightness of his pants around his dick.

“Why don’t you let me take the cart, pumpkin,” he said, his words sounding strained even to his own ears.

She beamed up at him, completely unaware of the turmoil seething in him, of the blood rushing to his cock as she smiled, squeezing his arm.

“Thank you babey,” she said, standing on her toes to kiss his cheek.

It ached, he ached, and it took all of his self-control to keep a firm grip on the cart and not to grab Rowan and drag her home.

“I was thinking we could get some beef for tonight! There was a recipe I wanted to try out.”

Gavin nodded, steering them towards the meat aisle, trying to focus on her words, trying to listen to the words Rowan was saying.

“What do you think?” She asked, holding up two different packages of beef.

Gavin blinked, not realizing that they’d already arrived, that she’d already chosen the beef for tonight, that she was asking for dinner for tomorrow, and for something to freeze.

He shrugged, pointing at the package in her right hand. “That one seems good enough.”

She looked at it, shrugging before she added it to the cart. “There’s not much difference between them anyways. Okay, then I want to get some pork to freeze for next week.”

Gavin tried to focus on his breathing next as he followed Rowan through the store, as he tried to focus not on the collar, or her smile as she talked at him, pointing out different things on their list and things that were not on their list but that she wanted anyways.

He definitely didn’t focus on the fact that she was his, that this beautiful woman trying to decide between strawberry waffles and pumpkin waffles was his. That she’d even told him that she was his. That all the collar did was prove it, prove that Rowan was his. It was a mark that didn’t fade.

Rowan spun around, her hair sweeping to the side, revealing the little lock that rested on the back of her neck, and Gavin’s heart seized, his vision going blurry as the ache in his cock became near painful.

A lock that only he had the key to. A lock that no one could open except for him.

He sucked in a deep breath, counting the seconds up to twelve as he inhaled, holding for twelve, and then exhaling slowly for another twelve seconds.

Rowan seemed to remain completely unaware, plucking things from shelves and setting them in the cart, asking his opinion on desserts and breads and how many eggs should they get, and should they splurge for the organic peppers this time, since they’re local?

When they got to the frozen food aisle he opened one of the freezer doors and stood before it, wishing the cold air could freeze his thoughts until they’d made it through the last of their errands.

“What are you doing?” Rowan asked.

“Trying to pick an ice cream.”

“You’re focusing awfully hard. Don’t you usually like the plain chocolate?”

Gavin frowned at the myriad of different flavours. Cookie dough, moose tracks, tiger trail, cereal flavoured, one named after a late night talk show, Vietnamese coffee.

“I wanted to try something different,” he muttered.

“Well I’ve had the one with the brownie pieces and it’s really good!” She chirped, tapping the unopened door beside him. “And it’s not too extravagant, which might be nice.”

Gavin nodded, wishing he could spend an eternity in the freezer aisle. He closed the door, moving to the side to open the other one, considering the ramifications of just crawling into one of the bottom shelves and telling Rowan to leave him there.

Instead he just grabbed the ice cream she had pointed out, and then an extra bag of hashbrowns further down the aisle, if only for the sweet relief of the frigid air slowing his thoughts and his blood flow.

“Do you want to get buns?” She asked, pointing to the bakery section.

He did, but he didn’t want bakery goods, he wanted to strip her naked and squeeze her ass between his hands.

Control yourself

He was staring at the cream puffs and doughnuts in the bakery display case and having some thoughts that were completely unacceptable for a grocery store bakery when he realized that he wasn’t going to make it through the rest of the day.

He grabbed his phone while Rowan was choosing between a pie and fresh cinnamon buns, his mind focused almost entirely on the last time he’d filled her, until his release had leaked down her legs, shining in the darkness of their room.

His

He shot off a quick text to his brother, promising repayment if he picked Stella up from the groomer and kept her overnight.

He pocketed his phone when he saw his brother was typing more after his initial “yes” and Gavin really didn’t want to know what nonsense he was about to say to try to rile him up.

Looking at his wife as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, as she tried finding the expiration dates on her bakery goods, the collar glittering as she tipped her head to the side, was already winding him up enough.

Gavin was sweating by the time they made it to the checkout, and he bagged everything as the cashier slid the scanned items to the other side of the counter, wanting to get home as quickly as possible.

He threw everything into the cart, and he considered throwing Rowan over his shoulder too and carrying her from the grocery store so they could get out quicker.

But no, he had to be patient, he’d made it through this much, surely he could survive another few minutes.

“That’s a beautiful necklace,” the cashier said to Rowan, hand resting just below her collarbone to indicate the collar around his wife’s neck. “Where did you get it?”

“I made it myself,” Gavin said, grinning as colour bloomed in Rowan’s cheeks, like pink petals unfurling beneath the morning sun. “A one-of-a-kind necklace for my one-of-a-kind wife.”

“Well make sure you keep him,” the cashier said to Rowan, handing her the receipt. “He sounds like a sweetheart.”

Despite his frustrations and the fact that he was still trying very hard to hide his erection, Gavin couldn’t help smirking.

He wasn’t sure if he would call it being sweet, especially not with how his entire body seemed to ache now, desperately needing to bury himself deep inside his wife.

They said their thanks and Gavin took Rowan’s hand as they exited the store, the cool air washing over them as they stepped outside.

He practically threw everything into the trunk of the car, his hands shaking as he slammed it closed, sucking in deep breaths as Rowan took the cart back to the store.

Patience

The car was already started by the time Rowan returned, and Gavin started pulling from the parking lot before she’d even buckled her seatbelt.

“We’ll have to go pick up Stella soon,” she said, checking her phone. “The groomer said we could pick her up after five.”

Gavin shook his head, speeding through a yellow light right as it was turning red. “Shaw said he wanted to take Stella to the dog park, so he’s going to pick her up today.”

Rowan hummed. “Well he’d better take lots of pictures of her then. She’s always so cute when she’s at the park.”

Gavin chuckled, cursing inwardly as someone cut him off, forcing him to slow down. “I’ll let him know.”

The drive home was nothing short of a harrowing experience as Gavin struggled to drive within the boundaries of the law. He was a police officer, he shouldn’t be driving above the speed limit or running reds. But the temptation was there, and if he was going ten or fifteen above the speed limit, who was really to say?

He practically fell from the car once they’d pulled into the driveway, racing to the trunk to get everything inside.

How he managed to carry so many bags and unlock the front door he would never fully understand, but he did it, and he was throwing the groceries into the fridge and freezer and cupboards before Rowan even stepped foot into the house.

She laughed, heading towards the front door after setting the bag with the shampoos on the kitchen table. “I’ve never seen you so efficient at putting everything away.”

Gavin panted, one hand clutching the handle of the fridge as he watched her walk away. “Where are you going?”

“I think there’s one more bag in the car. With the buns and some soups and the dried apricots I wanted to use for breakfast tomorrow.”

Gavin crossed the kitchen in three strides, grabbing her wrist and slamming her against the wall. He couldn’t take it anymore, couldn’t wait any longer.

“Leave it,” he said, and his voice came out as more of a growl. “You can get it later.”

Her eyes were wide, her cheeks flushed as she peered up at him from beneath her bangs. “But it’s just one more bag, babey. And then-”

He took her hands, pressing her knuckles to his lips. “Please? I’ve been so patient all day.”

She blinked, sucking in a breath as he flipped one hand over, trailing kisses up her wrist.

It wasn’t where he wanted his mouth to be, but he could mark her wrists and her arms just as surely as her throat and her thighs.

“I suppose,” she breathed, her voice shaking. “That the last bag can wait.”

It was all the confirmation Gavin needed before he was straightening, grinding his hips against hers as he pressed his face against her neck, sucking and biting at the skin around the collar, not caring anymore as the ache in his body grew, as he grew hard against her.

She was his, Rowan was his and he could kiss and bite her as much as he wanted now. And he would make very sure to draw out every last moan from her lips.

His hands fumbled over her clothes, and he pulled away just enough to yank her shirt from her body, to tug her skirt down her legs.

“You won’t be needing these anymore,” he murmured, unable to stop himself from smiling as she whimpered, her eyes falling closed.

“What is it, princess? Why won’t you look at me?” He asked, running a finger over her still clothed slit, rubbing against her clit.

She whimpered again and he repeated the movement, slower this time, delighted that he wasn’t the one being teased anymore. “Use your words, princess. I don’t know what you want unless you tell me.”

She breathed deeply, her face flushed, her eyes dark with lust as she finally opened them. “It just feels good. It feels really good.”

He arched a brow, a finger hooking into the waistband of her panties. “It feels good…?”

She whined, her fingers scrabbling against the wall as she realized what he was asking for. “It feels good, sir.”

Hearing her say the words sent a surge of fire coursing through him, the ache in his body and the tightness of his pants around his cock unbearable now.

“Good girl,” he breathed, dragging her panties down her legs, watching as her throat bobbed, as she chewed on her bottom lip to stop herself from whining.

He liked to praise her, liked to tell her she was doing well, but he liked the way he could twist it slightly, so she always knew who was in command here.

She was a good girl if she listened to him, and only if she listened to him. She would get praises if she did what he asked.

And if she listened? If she followed his instructions and she moaned and whined just the way he liked, then she was his very, very good girl.

“Let me hear you,” he breathed, kissing the inside of her thigh. “Let me hear every beautiful sound you can make.”

It didn’t take long until she was shuddering beneath his touch. She moaned as he licked along her slit, sucking at her clit until she started squirming, her legs shaking on either side of him.

He pressed his hands against her thighs, spreading them further apart and pressing them against the wall, holding her still while he worked.

“Stay there,” he ordered, letting it dip, letting it turn rough and low as his own need raced through him.

He needed to touch her, to taste her, to feel her writhe and squirm, to bring her to her release. Because he wanted to, because he knew he could, because she was his and only he could make her feel that way, make her feel as needy and desperate for him as he was for her.

He groaned as he spread her folds with his tongue, his cock throbbing as he imagined how it would feel when he ran it over the delicate flesh. When he prodded her clit with his tip, when he teased her entrance until she was begging for him to be inside her.

He wasn’t sure if he could hold off for much longer. Because he wanted to be inside of her, wanted to fuck her until the mattress broke.

He circled her entrance with his tongue, grinning as he felt her squirm, knowing her walls were fluttering as he teased her.

“Gav-Gavin.”

He hummed as she struggled to say his name, her words breathy and stained with a moan as he drew her folds into his mouth, sucking lightly.

She tasted so good he didn’t understand how he could stop. He dragged his teeth across the flesh, alternating between sucking and licking the delicate skin, the smell and taste of her arousal coating his senses. He tilted his head, trailing kisses along the inside of her thigh, murmuring that she was doing amazing, that she tasted so good. That she just had to keep moaning his name, had to keep letting him hear how good he was making her feel.

She had to, he needed to hear it. It only made his pleasure grow, blooming in his chest and his belly, turning his blood to liquid fire as he listened to her cries.

Knowing that he made her feel so good, that only he made her feel so good, made him feel so unimaginably good.

When he sank the first finger inside of her she nearly screamed, his mouth still working on her clit, his tongue still lapping up her arousal, his mind growing hazy. Like she was a fine liquor and he was completely drunk on her.

He moaned, her walls fluttering around his finger as he curled it, finding the sweetest spot inside of her.

The sounds she made were so sweet he almost gave up then, almost tore his clothes off and fucked her against the wall.

But no, he had to be patient. He’d waited all day for this, he could wait a little longer.

He sank a second finger inside of her, a third, grinning as she cried his name, as she squirmed, her fingers burying in his hair as her moans turned to begging.

He took a shuddering breath as she clenched around his fingers, her body beginning to shake, her walls beginning to quiver erratically.

“Do you want me to make you cum?” He asked, breathing the words against her as she whimpered. “You want to cum, my princess.”

She whined, panting as she tried to find her words. “I do, I do. Please make me cum, sir.”

He smiled, pressing a chaste kiss to her clit. “As you wish.”

He moved faster now, drawing out her orgasm with his fingers and his tongue, tasting the sweet headiness of her body as he relished in the way she shuddered around his fingers.

Her body shook, moving uncontrollably now, and she cried as her body grew taut beneath him as she came, clenching around his fingers so tightly he almost couldn’t draw them out.

He continued his ministrations until her body had stopped shuddering, until he was certain that the only thing keeping her standing was his hands on her.

He pulled away, making sure she watched as he licked his fingers clean.

He stood then, grinning as she sucked in a breath, her face a beautiful crimson, the colour reaching down her neck and over her chest.

He hooked a finger beneath her collar, drawing her towards him as he leaned down, pressing his lips to hers. He ran his tongue along the seam of her lips, and she opened her mouth for him, letting him in.

He hoped she could taste herself on his tongue, hoped she knew how hard it made him, lapping at her wet folds until she’d found her release from his mouth and his fingers.

He pulled away, and as Rowan stared up at him with wide eyes, her lips swollen from the kiss, he licked his bottom lip, letting her know just how much he liked how she tasted.

He kept his finger hooked in the collar as he dragged her to their bedroom before lifting her into his arms and setting her on the bed.

“Lay down,” he ordered, his hands falling to his waistband.

His clothes had to go now. She was laying on the bed, completely bare, her chest heaving as she watched him with wide, needy eyes.

His eyes raked over her body as he discarded his clothes, letting them fall in a messy heap by his feet. She was so beautiful, every part of her.

And she was completely and entirely his.

There were already marks on her arms, on the inside of her thighs, on her neck, but he knew he could leave more. Knew he could leave plenty more.

“Spread your legs for me,” he said, stroking his cock, catching the precum on the tip and spreading it over the head.

He hummed as he moved towards the bed, positioning himself between her legs as he knelt above her.

“Do you know how beautiful you are?” He asked, one hand falling to her hip as he dragged the tip over her folds, letting it rub against her swollen clit until she squirmed.

“So incredibly beautiful, and you’re all mine.”

He reached for one of her hands, pressing it against the sheets as he sank inside of her, pressing his face against her neck until he bottomed out, until she was gasping for breath.

Gavin sighed, kissing her jaw just as he pulled out, until only the tip remained inside of her, and then he slammed his hips against hers, and she cried out, the hand that remained in his squeezing tight, her other hand scraping down his back.

“Don’t move much,” he breathed, nipping at the skin above where her pulse thrummed an erratic, harried beat. “Let me take care of everything, princess.”

She writhed beneath him, and he couldn’t help chuckling, not as he felt her desperate attempts to lift her hips to meet his. But he just felt her firm, pushing her back against the mattress no matter how many times she tried to move.

He tsked, swiping his tongue over a new bite-mark. “Good girls listen and don’t move.”

“I-I am good,” she whined, sounding breathless.

His cock throbbed, and he thrust into her again, harder than before. “Are you?”

“Yes-yes. I’m your good girl, sir,” she cried, her back arching as his movements became more forceful, shoving her back against the bed with every thrust of his cock.

“Then don’t move,” he said, his voice rough as sandpaper, punctuating his words with another hard thrust.

She whimpered in response, her nails digging into his back as he moved faster now.

He slammed his hips into hers, drawing out breathless groans, the sounds spilling from her mouth turning wordless as he moved. He sank his teeth into the skin of her throat, running his tongue over every little indent his teeth made. And when he was sure her neck was properly marked he moved on to her breasts, sucking and biting at where they swelled on her chest before slowly working his way inwards.

His body felt taut, a ball of tension sitting deep within him, growing with every snap of his hips against hers, fire surging through him like a wave as the bed creaked in time to his racing heartbeat.

It didn’t take much time at all until he brought her to release, her body shaking beneath him, the flesh extra sensitive from his earlier work. He swore as she clenched around him, drawing out his own release not long after hers.

His movements turned jerky, the tension in his body snapping as the fiery waves dragged him under. He felt hot, felt his cock throbbing almost painfully as he came, spilling inside of her.

He kept moving, groaning, murmuring her name like it was a prayer as he thrust into her again and again, coating the inside of her legs with his release.

But he could hardly say he was done. Not when the coiled tension had barely loosened in his body. Not when he still felt hard, not when Rowan’s expression wasn’t nearly as blissed out as he wanted it to be.

It didn’t take much until he was hard again, and he could continue, the sound of her voice echoing through the room like thunder in a storm.

His own moans soon joined hers now, feeling more sensitive now than before, and with every clench of her body, with every one of her cries, he felt himself throb, growing swollen from all the need and desire building within him.

If it was a song, it was a lewd song, their voices punctuated by the sound of him thrusting inside of her, of the wet pop of his mouth against her skin as he continued to bite and suck every place he could find. But it was a song he had been craving all day.

The slickness of her folds, the way her body trembled around him, the way she cried his name like it was a prayer to the high heavens, the feeling of her soft breasts against his chest every time she arched her back.

And this new sensation, of the cool silver chain against his cheek and his jaw as his mouth worked at her neck, as he sucked at the skin until it was red, as he left marks from his teeth that would not fade for days.

The coolness was sharp, narrowing his focus to the task at hand. And it was a reminder that she was his, that was inexorably his. He had put that collar around her neck, he was the only one with the key.

She was his.

His

His

The coiled tension and fire in his body snapped as that thought repeated itself in his mind, over and over and over again with every thrust into her.

He gasped as he found his release, bright white stars and shapes exploding in his vision as he came harder than before, moaning until he was sure the walls were shaking as he spilled inside of her. As he filled her until he was sure her body would swell.

Rowan came soon after, her head falling back against the pillows as she cried, shuddering as his hips continued to snap against hers, losing any previous rhythm as he rode out his release, and helped her ride out hers.

He wrapped her in his arms, holding her tightly until both their bodies had stilled, and then for a while afterwards.

As all the frustration and desire melted away, a different sort of neediness remained. The type of neediness where he just wanted to hold her close, wanted to feel her skin against his and be reminded that she was his wife, that he loved her and she truly loved him.

He kissed her brow. “You were wonderful, pumpkin.”

Her eyes fluttered closed, exhaustion seeming to take over. “You’re always wonderful, babey. Always so wonderful.”

He kissed the corner of her lips this time, wincing as he pulled out. “You made me feel so good, princess.”

“Well I always feel good when I’m with you.”

His heart ached, and as he slumped onto his side on the bed he pulled her towards him, tucking her head beneath his chin.

“I love you so much,” he breathed. “More than you will ever know.”

She nuzzled her face against his chest and he felt his heart squeeze more, a gentle warmth washing through him. She was his, he couldn’t believe she was.

His wife, his love, his stars, his moon, his entire universe.

And she was his. She was entirely his.

“We should probably get cleaned up,” he murmured, although he loathed the thought of letting her go. Of standing and untangling himself from her arms.

She hummed, nestling closer. “But you’re so comfy.”

He snorted. “So are you. I could lie with you like this forever.”

“Then let’s lie like this forever,” she murmured, sounding like she was already half asleep.

Again he snorted, peering down at where his release was still smeared between her thighs. “But we should probably clean this up before it gets sticky.”

She whined, shaking her head. “I don’t wanna get up.”

He kissed the top of her head, trying to extricate himself from her embrace. “Don’t worry, I’ll still be close.”

“Will you carry me?” She asked, cracking her eyes open.

“Of course I will,” he murmured, brushing her hair back from her sweaty face. “You think I’d let my wife walk on her own after that?”

He shook his head, earning a giggle from her lips as he sat up. “No, I’m carrying her around for the rest of the day.”

“And tomorrow?”

“Of course and tomorrow.”

He stood, meaning to lean down and scoop her into his arms, but he paused, his eyes falling to the collar, seeming to glow against the red marks covering her skin.

“Do you want me to take this off?” He asked, brushing his finger across the pendant.

Although if he were being honest, he didn’t want to take it off. He wanted it to remain there, so even when those red marks did fade there would be something to say that she was his.

But Rowan shook her head, resting a hand over the pendant. “No, I like it. I want to keep it on.”

“You do?” He asked, his voice squeaking a bit, his cheeks and ears growing warm.

“I do,” she said, her gaze soft, her voice as gentle as a spring breeze. “To remind me that I’m yours.”

His heart ached, and he thought he would fall apart before her.

“It’s one-of-a-kind,” she said, smiling. “There’s nothing else in the world like it. Nothing else in the world to say that I’m yours.”

She hummed, lifting her left hand so her wedding band caught the light. “Except this maybe.”

Gavin held up his left hand, his matching wedding band glittering, a twin to hers. “Does that mean that this says I’m yours?”

She giggled, shifting closer. “It does.”

Gavin cupped her face with both hands, pressing his brow against hers. “Well someone like you deserves something special and unique.”

“Someone like me?”

He nodded, bumping his nose against hers. “Someone beautiful, special. Like no one else in the entire world.”

“You make me feel that way,” she breathed, curling into his arms.

He lifted her up, cradling her against his chest. “Well it’s true. I would never lie to you.”

And it was true. The things he made for her, the collar he’d spent months crafting, we’re all unique, incomparable to anything else. Or at least he liked to hope they were incomparable. 

Because there was no one else in the world like her. She was entirely unique, completely unrivalled. And she deserved things that were as special as her.

Or as close to as special as she was, because he had never met anyone else like her in the entire world.

And he couldn’t quite believe that she was truly his.

But she was. She was his, and he would love her until the end of time.

[excalculus]

I've been told I should in fact flame Pokémon characters for PPE violations, so let's go.

Specifically I'll stick to the professors and use their appearance from the main game they first appeared in, because I've played almost all of those. Most if not all of them are implied to be biologists or bio-adjacent. I've done my time in academia on top of my current job still being in bio labwork so I know how this is supposed to go.

As for criteria, let's say basic bench science PPE standards (close-toed shoes, long pants, and no long dangling hair or accessories), and in the interest of fairness I'll only go after people who are at least attempting to dress for lab by wearing a lab coat or other obvious PPE item. I also won't worry about things that can be fixed up in a minute or two before going into the lab itself, like buttoning up the lab coat, putting on gloves, etc. Honestly wearing a lab coat outside the lab isn't really supposed to happen, but it's not the end of the world and also if I stuck to that I'd have to cancel everyone.

(Am I being a horrible pedant? Maybe, but I've also never had to fill out lab accident paperwork, so I think I'm still winning.)

Oak

This is normal except for his shoes looking alarmingly like slippers. I suspect that's an issue with this specific piece of art though, since later versions do clearly show normal shoes. Do not wear slippers in lab.

Elm

Really short labcoat, possibly just a weird art choice? Also more or less normal. Looks amusingly like my cell bio professor if you squint a little.

Birch

If this is supposed to be for lab you need long pants, and something that isn't sandals/flip flops. If this is supposed to be for the field, better shoes and pants are probably still a good idea, and the lab coat is useless - it can't protect you from basically anything out there, and if you're worried about contaminating the environment it's also woefully inadequate. To be honest though, the fact that he couldn't deal with a level 2 Zigzagoon makes me think he isn't a field biologist at all. I've met those people at conferences and they'll casually do things like run back towards a probable tornado when their data or equipment is on the line. I heard two (2) angry jaguar stories at the same dinner and in both cases the reaction was basically "If I die, I die". In conclusion I think this is a really bad lab outfit and not a kind of suspect fieldwork outfit, and the only thing I can say in its defense is that I did in fact see someone try to do cell culture while wearing shorts back when I was in SoCal. More accurately, I heard him getting busted by the lab manager from the other side of the lab.

Rowan

Not dressed for lab at all, so no comment. Looks like a math professor.

Juniper

The miniskirt is very bad. Credit where credit is due though, good job on the comfortable nonslip footwear - you'd be surprised how easy it is to go flying if someone's gotten a bit of water on the floor. I've also decided at this point that I'm not going to worry about interesting style/art choices on the lab coats themselves, like whatever is up with that collar.

Sycamore

Roll down your coat sleeves before you go in and this is fine. On a real person I'd say that length of hair likely needs to be secured somehow, but if we assume it stays in position via anime physics instead of falling into things we can ignore that.

Kukui

No shirt, short pants, open shoes, no science. +1 for safety glasses -1000 for everything else. EH&S is coming for your ass.

Magnolia

Some places are okay with a long skirt or dress instead of pants, given that the main idea there is to not have exposed skin that can either get hit by a chemical spill/dropped object or shed contaminants. The dress, shoes, and no socks combo here is... maybe not the greatest? However if I remember right she's basically retired when we see her in game, so it may not be an issue if she's not doing lab work anymore.

Turo

I hate to say it, but technically this passes. The only immediate issue I see is that in the rare case that you do spill something bad on yourself you need to yeet both your coat and any affected item of clothing as fast as you can, which might be challenging with the space onesie. If it's impermeable to whatever got spilled that's theoretically okay, but I've seen the chemical compatibility charts. Nothing is immune to all possible spills even if you stay away from the nasty shit the chemists have.

Sada

[EXTREMELY LOUD INCORRECT BUZZER]

[ar-lath-ma-cully]

Hi happy Friday!!!! Can I please see Cullen/OC + “The smell of ozone during a storm” from the sensory prompts? ✨

It's been forever! Thank you so much for this prompt Rowan <3 It hurts so good. @dadrunkwriting Pairing: Cullen/Amaryllis (OC) Rating: T WC: 386 ---

She’s soaked when he finds her: on her knees in the pouring rain. Her eyes are closed, her pale face turned to the weeping skies. There’s blood in the water that streams down her neck, staining the collars of her robes. Her staff lies broken beside her. The piece of her father’s blanket is gone.

Cullen doesn’t stop until he’s taken to his knee at her side. From here, he can smell it. Ozone. He can taste it in the air around her, feel it spilling from the scorched earth beneath them.

“Amaryllis.” He isn’t sure what to say. There is nothing that could comfort her, now. 

He can see the way her skin has split along her chin and up, across her cheek. Her left eye is swollen and black. 

He reaches for the elfroot potion at his side and her hand grips his wrist: tight, but not enough to hurt. 

“Please.” Her voice is hoarse–a croaking whisper, barely heard over the downpour. She does not open her eyes. “I can’t.”

There is a fury rising within him. He can’t stop. “What happened?” Her other hand scrambles for purchase, and she tries to grip his chestplate, but her palm slides across its surface. Instead, she falls forward, her hand fisted in the soiled grass. Her other still grips his wrist.

At first, there’s nothing. She is still. Then, her shoulders begin to shake, and out of her mouth spills a harrowing cry. She lets go of him to pound her fists into the ground, once, and he realizes with horror that she has frozen the mud beneath her–her hands spill fresh blood upon the ice. 

“Fuck,” Amaryllis sobs. “Fuck. Fuck! FUCK!”

“Amaryllis.” He pulls her into him quickly, holding her tightly against him though the armor is uncomfortable for them both. With a shaking hand, he pushes the hair out of her eyes, and feels his own heart sink at what he finds. There is an unfathomable sorrow in her gaze. “What happened?” She doesn’t fight him. Amaryllis lets go. Falls against him. She seems to forget how to breathe for a moment, and then takes in a sharp, hitching gasp of air. 

“She’s gone. Ellana’s gone.”

Cullen’s own breath leaves him in a sudden punch.  He curls himself around her, and doesn’t let go.

[x-ceirios-x]

(Part 2) City of Fallen Angels, Chapter 14: What Dreams May Come

please see the masterlist for notes about this series/collection of works

-

The area around ironworks was mostly warehouses and art galleries, the kind of neighborhood that emptied out at night, so it didn’t take too long for Jordan and Simon to find a parking space. Simon jumped down out of the truck, only to find Jordan already on the sidewalk, looking at him critically. 

Simon hadn’t packed any nice clothes when he’d left his house—he didn’t have anything on him fancier than a bomber jacket that had once belonged to his dad—so he and Jordan had spent the afternoon prowling the East Village for a decent outfit for him to wear. They’d finally found an old Zegna suit in a consignment shop called Love Saves the Day that mostly sold glitter platform boots and sixties Pucci scarves. Simon suspected it was where Magnus got most of his clothes. 

“What?” he said now, self consciously pulling down the sleeves of his suit jacket. It was a little too small for him, though Jordan had opined that if he never buttoned it, no one would notice. “How bad do I look?”

Jordan shrugged. “You won’t crack any mirrors,” he said. “I was just wondering if you were armed. You want anything? Dagger, maybe?” He opened his own suit jacket just a bit, and Simon saw something long and metallic glinting against the inside lining. 

“No wonder you and Jace like each other so much. You’re both crazy walking arsenals.” Simon shook his head in weariness and turned to head toward the Ironworks entrance. It was across the street, a wide gold awning shadowing a rectangle of sidewalk that had been decorated with a dark red carpet with the gold image of a wolf stamped into it. Simon couldn’t help being slightly amused. 

Leaning against one of the poles holding up the awning was Rowan. They were wearing a dark blue three-piece suit that looked black in the shadows, with the jacket draped over their shoulders rather than having their arms through them. They fiddled with the gold ring on their finger and he noticed all of their other jewelry was silver: several ear piercings, a thin necklace, and a different, bulkier ring on their opposite thumb. Their hair appeared to be styled, the waves expertly placed and sprayed into place, all of their hair pushing forward and into their eyes slightly. He saw the hint of Marks poking just over the collar of their white shirt. 

“You clean up nice,” he said cheerfully. Upon closer inspection, they really did look nice. Handsome, maybe, if they liked that word. He wondered if they got Isabelle or maybe Magnus to help them. 

“Thanks,” they said, pulling themselves out of their thoughts. “You must be the werewolf boyfriend. J…something. Sorry.”

He chuckled and extended his hand. “Jordan Kyle. And thank you for the help tonight.”

Rowan shook his hand expertly, like they’d done this a million times. With how much they loved meeting new people, he wondered if they’d practiced this in the mirror or something. He knew he certainly did stuff like that when he was going somewhere. There was a certain anxiety, he noticed, in the tightness of their mouth, but it was overshadowed by the mask of confidence they put on for the occasion. He doubted anyone else would notice. “Thank me when I get you answers.” They turned towards Simon. “Maia and Isabelle are both here, for fair warning. Good luck. Oh, and a message from Izzy:—” they put on a high-pitched, valley-girl kind of voice— “Don’t bother Maia, don’t try to talk to her, don’t even look at her, or I’ll fold you in half so many times you’ll look like a tiny little origami werewolf.”

Simon would have laughed if it weren’t for the circumstances. He’d heard Rowan’s impression of both Alec and Clary before, but never Isabelle. Apparently, they had an accent for each. Alec’s was stuffy and posh British. He kept his laughter under control, though, covering it with a cough.

Rowan sat up, off of the pole, and sighed. “Let’s get this over with, boys,” they said, sounding about as enthusiastic as they could, which was very minimal. Simon and Jordan followed their lead into the building. 

[snzhrchy]

Hi hru 👋🏾

I have a request for Wednesday on Netflix maybe you could write xavier and the reader having a fight and then he suddenly kisses the reader. Only if you want

— ☆ THOSE FEW DAYS !

xavier thorpe x fem!reader

synopsis; you’re just concerned about your boyfriend’s issues but it leads to a terrible argument between you two yet you both still long for eachother.

warnings; none :)

taglist; lmk if u wanna be on it !

Ever since the arrival of Wednesday Addams in Nevermore and the unfortunate expulsion of Rowan, your boyfriend, Xavier Thorpe had been acting rather, unusual, to say the least.

Yes, he did lose his roommate and he was being tormented by frequent nightmares of a creature — it was enough to make one lose their sanity. Yet today, in particular, he was acting odd.

You noticed that today, he was feeling uncomfortable, bothered by the slightest conversation, as if he were scared. He also was making an attempt to cover his neck either with his collar or hands. You observed that the reason as to why he was hiding his neck was due to the large red scars that were planted on it — worst of all, they were fresh. They looked as if a creature had attacked his neck as it appeared that maybe claws were the cause of it.

You overheard him informing Wednesday that the scars were due to fencing class yet you knew him better than anyone — he wasn’t that careless to get injured so terribly in fencing. It was probably due to another cause.

Eventhough, deep down you knew you shouldn't inquire him about his latest injury something had urged you to question him about it. You wanted to know why he looked and felt so terrified. After all, you were his girlfriend, shouldn't you have a right to know?

Reluctantly, you made your way to his art studio which was an old shed he had cleaned out. You knew he was in it due to the slow hum of the music you could hear from the outside and the small light rays that penetrated out of the shed's windows.

Xavier would visit the shed whenever he was in distress. Lately, he'd been visiting it quite often as he was tortured by all his horrifying dreams and the events occurring in Jericho. The rumours of the creature in the woods weren't helping either.

One, two, three. You knocked thrice onto the door, patiently waiting for the man inside to let you in. After a few moments on waiting, the door finally opened to reveal an anger-stricken Xavier, who leaned against the doorway of the shed.

His palms were coloured in different shades of blue and red, indicating that he was painting. Whereas his eyes were both avoidant of your gaze. He kept glancing at his shoes, not even bothering to greet you — other times, he'd let you in, showing off anything new he had painted.

You broke off the awkward silence with a small cough, 'can I come in?' you lightly asked as you attempted to smile at him. Still not meeting your eyes, he replied with a simple 'sure,' and moved out of the way so that you could enter.

You looked around and were horrified at the sight of the inside of the shed. Nearly every corner was filled with sketches, drawings and paintings of the creature - some scribbled messily while others were decorated in detail. You now knew that his nightmares were only getting worse even with his multiple therapy sessions, he still wasn't getting any better.

'So what do you want?' Xavier asked with no emotion. You turned to look at him after finally tearing your eyes away from the gnarly pictures he had drawn. 'I just wanted to check up on you, see how you're feeling,' you replied, 'I noticed your scars and I wanted to ask you...' you trailed off, unsure of how to continue since you noticed that his expression hardened.

'Why? So you could blame me for all the murders?' he snapped. You had no idea what Xavier could possibly mean by that statement. Did someone blame him? Was that he was feeling so sour?

'No, I don't blame you at all and you know that. I was just here to check up on you and-' before you could finish, you were cut off by Xavier: 'well, I don't need you checking up on me, I'm perfectly fine. Stop pretending like you ever actually cared,' he shouted.

All the worry you had about him left you immediately, you yelled back at him as he yelled at you. You both were shouting back and forth, throwing cruel words at eachother. Until, you had had enough. Your eyes and cheeks were now stained with tears, your lips were bleeding due to you biting them aggressively and you wanted nothing more than to leave.

His harsh words were enough for you to finally leave his shed, filled with rage and sadness. Clearly, he was not feeling alright and took out his anger on you. You were just trying to check up on him, what could've caused him to feel like this?

To be honest, you were angry at him, terribly angry. You stormed into your room, trying to block off any thoughts you had about him. Yet you couldn't since no matter how foolish he acted, you still liked him.

Rave'N was suppose to be a fun and eventful night for any outcast. Well, any outcast except for you. Ever since your argument with Xavier, you didn't bother talking to him, even when he attempted to apologise to you.

You went with your friend and roommate, Yoko and instead of moping over Xavier, you decided to actually enjoy yourself. It was a party after all, you were suppose to enjoy yourself here. The drinks and loud music were finally making you forget all about Xavier.

After a couple of drinks and a few dances with Yoko, you were finally exhausting yourself. Tearing away from Yoko and the dance floor, you finally sat down on a table you presumed to be empty to rest a bit before going back.

'I see you're enjoying yourself here,' a familiar yet unexpecting voice called — the last voice you wanted to hear right now. Sighing, you turned to look at the unwelcomed face of Xavier. You raised your brow, 'So? It's a party,' you replied, not even bothering to pay attention to him.

'Hey listen...' he began as he sat himself next to you. You knew what to expect, for the past few days, Xavier had been attempting to apologise to you for his harsh words yet you didn't bother listening to any of his apologies; most of the time, Yoko would just tell him to leave.

You sighed and turned to look at him, 'you've told me that same apology multiple times but you have to realise that I was really hurt by your words... I was just worried.' This was probably the longest conversation you both had this entire week.

'Xavier, I understand you were hurting back then but I just kinda wished you ta—‘ before you could finish your statement, you got interrupted by a pair of lips on yours.

It was a surprised gesture but you reciprocated it almost immediately; you missed this so much. You’d never admit it but you really did miss Xavier loads. Just by kissing him, all the events of the past few days were lost; you just wanted to be with him.

Once you two pulled apart, Xavier looked at his shoes, avoiding your gaze again — it looked as if he was embarrassed of his actions.

‘I’m really sorry about that, y/n. I shouldn’t have done that,’ he stated apologetically. Deep down, Xavier longed for things to go back to the way they were. He felt upset and he missed you so much.

‘Hey, it’s alright. I’m kinda over it besides, you were just on edge back then; we both said things that we regretted. I understand,’ you gently spoke. Xavier looked at you with hopeful eyes yet he didn’t utter a single word.

The last thing Xavier expected you to do was stand up and offer your hand to his, inviting him onto the dance floor.

‘Come on,’ you said as you happily dragged him to the dance floor.

[shadowdaddyazriel]

Night Cap (rowaelin x manorian smut)

Warnings: this is just pure filth. foursome m/m/f/f etc etc. lmk what u thinkkkk

Across the bar, a shimmery blonde had been eyeing Manon for some time now. She had intense turquoise and green eyes, and a wicked smile to match. She was mesmerizing, tossing her hair and chatting animatedly with her hands to the bartender when he came over.

Beside her, a huge male leaned his arms on the bar, eyes closely watching the blonde’s every move like he just couldn’t get enough of her. He had silver hair and a swirling black tattoo that started at his temple and disappeared beneath the collar of his shirt. The two kept snagging Manon’s attention, squirming in her seat when they met her glance.

The bartender walked away and the blonde caught Manon’s eyes once more. A slow, sly grin spread across her face as she leaned over to whisper something in the male next to her’s ear. His eyes immediately flicked up to meet Manon’s and she almost went liquid under his intense stare. Her cheeks were on fire. The male nodded, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards.

The blonde stood up then, walking around him, trailing her fingers lightly across the top of his back as she went. Spinning on his stool, he stood to follow her, his height towering over hers. The two headed for the dance floor, directly in Manon’s eye line. A thrill shot up her spine as the two began to writhe against each other on the dance floor, the blonde grinding her ass against the huge male’s lap. Manon’s jaw loosened at the sight, her eyes utterly fixated on the blonde’s form as she arched back into him, and the possessive way the fae male gripped her hips.

Manon felt Dorian’s minty breath on her ear as his arms wrapped around her. She hummed, leaning back into him. He smelled divine and male and hers. Manon wanted to lose herself in him, to play out every fantasy she’d imagined when looking at the fae couple dance together.

“See something you like, witchling?” Dorian purred into her ears. She let a shiver snake down her spine. Dorian had always been open to exploring Manon’s sexual desires. A small part of Manon wondered if Dorian hadn’t wanted to just as much as she had.

When she looked back at the dance floor, the couple was gone. She fought the urge to let herself sag in disappointment. Her brow furrowed. She’d been sure the couple was propositioning them, but perhaps she’d read it all wrong.

“Is it true?” A high, clear voice called from behind Manon. She turned to find the blonde behind her, the fae warrior wrapped around her and towering over her. Dorian gave them both a wicked grin, looking back and forth between Manon and the blonde like it was solstice morning.

“Is what true?” Manon asked, eyebrow arched. Her voice was deep and sensual.

“That ironteeth pussy is as good as they say?” She said, a sinful glimmer filling those beautiful eyes of hers. Manon’s stomach heated and she felt Dorian’s hand slide across her lower back.

“Better,” Dorian drawled. The blonde and her fae both looked shocked but definitely, definitely intrigued.

“Wanna find out for yourself? Quench that curiosity?” Manon smirked at her. The blonde eyed her, clearly liking her confidence and handle on her sexuality.

“I’m Aelin, this is Rowan,” she said, gesturing to the man behind her.

“Manon.”

“Dorian.”

“Rowan’s flat is two blocks away if you care for a nightcap,” Aelin cooed. Manon looked at Dorian, who shrugged. Taking that as a yes, Aelin slid her hand into Manon’s, lacing their fingers and tugging her towards the door.

Back at Rowan’s flat, Aelin poured them all drinks, passing them out. They all sipped, feeling the warmth resetting in their stomachs. Manon wasn’t nervous, exactly. She’d been a part of group sex a few times in her long life. Something about Aelin and her confidence, though, seemed to call to her.

“And you, pretty boy?” Rowan asked, his voice a deep rumble reverberating in his chest. Dorian’s head shot up to take in the fae warrior. A corner of Dorian’s mouth pulled into a crooked grin.

“What about me?” He asked.

“Do you fuck as good as you look?” Rowan asked. Dorian’s grin was utterly feline. He quirked up an eyebrow at Rowan.

“Wanna find out?” Dorian saw the flash of lust in his green eyes, with no small amount of pride. Dorian aimed to please in the bedroom, and Manon had no doubts he would be utterly performing for them all by the end.

Aelin tipped her head back, draining her cup. She sensually lowered herself to her knees, looking up at Manon from under her lashes with a wolfish smirk. Manon looked down her nose at the queen.

“Crawl to me,” Manon commanded. She saw the shiver run down Dorian’s spine at her words. Aelin looked as though she were about to start purring. She languidly crawled across the floor on her hands and knees to Manon.

She placed her delicate hands on Manon’s knees, gently pushing them apart and baring Manon’s drenched panties to her. She groaned, sliding her hands up Manon’s thighs and under her skirt. On her knees between Manon’s legs, Aelin pressed her mouth gingerly to the witch’s. They moaned breathily into one another’s open mouths. Their wet, warm tongues lapped against one another, discovering and devouring.

Still kissing Manon, Aelin slid her hands higher up Manon’s skirt, wrapping her hands around the sides of Manon’s panties, and sliding them down her legs and off. She turned, slingshotting them into Rowan’s lap, who looked seconds from pouncing on them both but was remaining patient. Dorian just looked like his smug and charming self.

Aelin tugged Manon closer to the edge of the couch, pushing her legs even farther apart, putting her soaking wet pussy on display for them all. Dorian bit his lip and Rowan’s eyes darkened at the wetness between her thighs.

“You smell divine,” Aelin purred, the flat of her tongue dragging up the center of Manon’s pussy with a feral groan. “And taste even better.” Manon panted, lacing her hands at the base of the blonde’s head, pushing her face impatiently back to her core. Aelin chuckled, the vibrations making Manon writhe against her.

Aelin’s tongue dipped inside Manon’s hole, fucking her with her mouth. Manon’s eyes rolled back into her head in ecstasy. Dorian palmed himself through his pants at the sight, painfully hard already.

“Hey, Buzzard,” Aelin murmured to her mate, “come get a taste of her before I keep her all to myself.” Rowan eagerly obliged, walking over to drop to his knees before the witch. He was so muscular and devastatingly beautiful Manon almost came at the sight of him bowing before her before he roughly gripped her thighs, tossing them over each shoulder. He looked up at her, locking in her stare as he kissed from her knees down to her pussy with wet, open-mouthed kisses. Rowan began fiercely sucking her clit as Aelin situated herself, straddling Dorian’s thighs.

Aelin gasped as she ground down against Dorian’s covered cock. Manon watched the look on his face as his jaw dropped open, parting his perfect pink lips. Aelin licked a stripe up his neck before pressing her mouth to his, placing her tongue in his mouth, still covered with Manon’s wetness. Dorian moaned at the familiar taste, and a shockwave of pleasure filled Manon’s belly.

Manon gasped as Rowan landed a harsh smack to the side of her thighs. She looked down at him wide-eyed. He lifted his head, her wetness coating his chin. Gods, he was like a god among men.

“If I’m going to eat your pussy, you’re going to give all that attention to me,” he snarled. “Look at me. If you look away or close your eyes, I stop and you don’t come.” Manon felt a thrill rip through her at the challenge.

Manon panted in anticipation, Rowan’s warm mouth only inches from her core. The cold air hitting her wetness was driving her mad. She writhed against him, but he didn’t budge.

“I require acknowledgment, little witch,” he growled, turning his head to harshly sink his teeth into her thigh. She gasped at the pressure and light flick of his tongue.

“Yes,” she breathed.

“Yes, what?” He barked.

“Yes, sir,” she whimpered. She wouldn’t call him anything else. Those other names were only for Dorian. Who was currently whimpering under Aelin’s touch desperately. Manon wanted to look, but she wouldn’t disobey him, needing to come too badly.

He gave her another rough smack to her thigh.

“Good girl,” he snarled, using his thumbs to open her pussy to him, groaning at the sight of her. He licked her like she was a delicacy, her legs still thrown over his broad shoulders. He flicked his tongue against her clit in a way that had her screeching and squeezing her thighs against the sides of his head, which she discovered he liked very much.

“Filthy girl gonna get herself off on my thigh?” Dorian hummed from a few feet away where Aelin’s legs straddled his powerful thigh, relishing the friction of his jeans. “My pussy aches for you,” she whined.

“It’s my thigh or nothing,” Dorian directed. “Rub that pretty pussy against my leg and show me just how bad you want me.” Manon loved when he used that commanding tone with her. Her mouth opened slightly, feeling her orgasm building when Rowan immediately pulled his mouth away from her.

She whimpered, arching and crying out for him. She’d looked away when he told her not to. She couldn’t help it. The sight of Aelin and Dorian was so intoxicating. “If you’re going to act like a little brat, I’m going to treat you like a little brat,” he fussed.

“I’m sorry! I’ll be good I promise, please touch me,” she practically begged. He gave her a hard look before leaning down to lick her.

He held her open for his tongue with one hand and palmed his throbbing cock through his pants with the other. Manon barrelled toward her climax at a blinding speed. She watched Rowan as he palmed himself and worshipped her cunt with his tongue. She screwed her eyes shut with a cry, tears leaking from the corners of her eyes as Rowan kept sucking her too-sensitive clit. She tried to push his head away, but he was having none of it.

Manon felt Dorian’s phantom hands wrap around her wrists and pin her hands behind her back, leaving her utterly at Rowan’s mercy, of which he had exactly none. He sucked her clit roughly, sending her into her second climax. Tears streamed down her face and she howled like a banshee at his tongue lapping against her. He didn’t stop until he’d devoured every drop of wetness from her swollen cunt. Then, thank the gods, he allowed her to collapse back into the couch to catch her breath, dropping her legs from his shoulders.

Rowan stood, walking to where Aelin still ground against Dorian’s cock through his jeans, a wet spot smeared across the front of the fabric. Manon wanted to lick it off. She chewed her bottom lip.

Rowan’s hand gripped the hair on the back of Dorian’s head, roughly jerking his head back until his lips parted. Dorian’s throat on display for her, Aelin suckled at it. Rowan spit into Dorian’s mouth, a mixture of his saliva and Manon’s cum dripping from his lips to Dorian’s tongue. Dorian swallowed with a deep growl.

Rowan made to pull back, but Dorian stood, pulling Aelin with him. Aelin wrapped her legs around his middle as he smashed his mouth fiercely against Rowan’s. Rowan kissed him back forcefully. As Dorian licked the roof of Rowan’s mouth, Manon took advantage. She lowered herself to her knees in front of Rowan, pulling at his belt.

Still kissing Dorian, he helped her with his free hand, shoving his pants off and kicking them away. He quickly ripped his shirt over his head. With shared smirks, the rest of them followed suit, abandoning any clothing left on them.

Manon swirled her tongue against the pink head of Rowan’s massive cock, lapping up his pre-cum greedily, eager to taste more of him. He was delicious. His breathy moan was even more delicious. She wanted to hear that sound forever. Licking the underneath of his cock from his balls to his tip, she swallowed him deeply into her throat, relaxing and taking him to the hilt.

His entire body shuddered as he instinctually tried to pull her off, but she swatted his hand away, caressing her tongue against the base of his cock. He bit back a whimper, squeezing his eyes shut and throwing his head back.

Having none of that, Dorian reclaimed his mouth. Feeling left out, Aelin forced her way in, the three of their mouths moving together as Manon swallowed Rowan’s cock. He jerked under her touch, panting and a sheen of sweat coating his chiseled chest.

“Fuck,” Rowan snarled, an angry look on his face. “I’m gonna fucking ruin you, little witch.” She hummed in excitement, the sound vibrating the cock still lodged deeply in her throat. Rowan grimaced at the pleasure.

“Tie her hands behind her back,” he commanded Dorian. Manon couldn’t see him, but she already knew Dorian had that goofy grin on his face she loved so much. The face he made when he toyed with her and edged her to the gods.

Manon’s hands snapped behind her back forcefully and she pulled back, allowing Rowan’s cock to exit her mouth. Strings of saliva still connected her to him. Rowan wrapped a massive hand around the base of himself, squeezing hard.

“Both of you on the couch,” Rowan demanded to Dorian and Aelin. “You’re going to touch yourself for me to see while I fuck her pretty little throat like a cocksleeve.” Gods, she loved Rowan’s filthy mouth. It almost rivaled Dorian’s. Dorian stroked his hard cock, grinning like mad at Manon. She loved him so much she felt like she might burst. She knew he would always allow her to do whatever she wanted, just as long as he got to tag along.

Rowan pressed a thumb against her lips, directing her focus back to him. She opened her mouth for him. He pressed a thumb roughly to her tongue, grabbing her jaw to hold her in place. He slid the head of his cock down her throat, not waiting for her to be ready. He released her jaw to grab the sides of her face.

He gave a few tentative thrusts to allow her to find his rhythm, and then he wasn’t gentle with her. Which is exactly what she liked. He impaled her throat over and over. Every time he bottomed out, she swallowed, clenching her throat tightly around him.

With the way she was sucking him, he wasn’t going to last long. She supposed he hadn’t expected her to know how to suck cock the way she did. Many, many years of practice were on her side there. Dorian moaned from the couch. He watched the way drool dripped from Manon’s mouth as Rowan fucked into her.

Rowan jerked her off him roughly, gasping and grabbing the base of his dick tightly, trying to keep himself from coming. He closed his eyes as he panted, trying to recenter. Manon grinned at Dorian, who winked at her. Dorian heavily benefitted from Manon’s bedroom experience.

“Why don’t you come sit that pretty cunt of yours on my face,” Manon said, raising a seductive eyebrow at Aelin. Did she just… blush? Oh, Manon liked that. She’d do whatever it took to see it again.

Manon laid back on the soft carpet, propping her legs to expose her drenched cunt to Dorian where he still sat on the couch, slowly gliding his hand along himself. Aelin chewed her bottom lip, swinging a leg on either side of Manon’s head. But Manon was having none of her sudden shyness. She gripped her soft thighs and pulled her down onto her face. Gods, she was so wet.

“This all for me, princess?” Manon praised. Aelin nodded fiercely, grinding her wet pussy against Manon’s open mouth. Manon offered her tongue and Aelin fucked herself on it, legs already twitching with pleasure.

“Your tongue feels so fucking good,” Aelin panted out.

Manon felt the head of Dorian’s cock notch at her entrance, slowly gliding upwards to spread her wetness to her clit. He teased both of them, rubbing his dick slowly through her folds. When he slowly began to push inside her, she moaned loudly against Aelin, which had her giving a high, feral keen. Manon chuckled as Aelin bucked wildly against her mouth, legs tensing on either side of Manon’s head.

Dorian fucked her slowly, just as distracted by Aelin as she was. Manon could feel Dorian’s cock twitching inside her as he hit her cervix, pushing so deep she could feel him in her stomach. Aelin came with a screech, collapsing off of Manon, who used a finger to wipe Aelin’s wetness from her chin and push her finger into Dorian’s mouth.

Rowan positioned himself behind Dorian, a bottle of lube in his palm. He slathered his cock in the lube. He landed a harsh smack to Dorian’s ass as if announcing his presence. Dorian pushed all the way inside Manon and stilled. Manon chewed her lip as she watched every whimper and moan fall from Dorian’s pouty lips until Rowan was all the way inside of him, just as he was inside of her.

Rowan bucked his hips into Dorian, which pushed Dorian further inside Manon. She cried out, grinding against his cock. Aelin positioned herself on the side between Manon and Dorian. She lowered her mouth to flick her tongue over Manon’s clit lazily. Manon arched off the floor, squeezing around Dorian tightly, which wrought a string of curse words from him.

“Fucking do that again, my god,” Dorian panted. Rowan pulled out to the tip and roughly fucked back into Dorian’s ass. Aelin obliged, sucking Manon’s clit with a fierceness that rivaled her mate’s. Manon writhed and cried, her senses overstimulated with the pleasure.

“P-please, I can’t,” she begged.

“You can and you will,” Dorian growled. “You can take it. My good girl.”

At his words, she came, milking Dorian, who roared with his pleasure.

Rowan gritted his teeth, fucking Dorian harder, smacking his ass again, but harder this time. Hard enough to leave a handprint on his ass. Manon knew Dorian loved that shit. He always loved when she marked him up.

Aelin glided her tongue against the base of Dorian’s cock as Manon slid her fingers between Aelin’s legs. She was so wet that Manon easily slid two fingers inside her, fucking her with her hand. Aelin hummed her approval, bucking against Manon’s hand as she turned her attention back to Manon’s clit.

“F-fuck, I’m not going to last,” Dorian yelped.

Rowan wrapped his hand around the front of Dorian’s neck.

“You come when I fucking say you come,” Rowan snarled. Dorian’s eyes rolled back in his head as Manon twitched uncontrollably underneath him, her climaxes just rolling into each other at this point as she pulsed around Dorian.

Aelin closed her eyes as Manon pressed her thumb to her clit, rubbing while she fucked her cunt with her long, slender fingers. Aelin cried out, gripping Manon’s fingers as she came. Manon kept her movements going until Aelin physically jerked back from overstimulation.

She lay back against the couch, legs spread wide and revealing her abused pussy to them all. Rowan grunted, looking at his wife spread out like a feast. Rowan gripped Dorian’s throat again.

“Fucking come. Now,” Rowan commanded, voice breathy.

Dorian whimpered as his back arched, spilling his cum inside Manon’s tight cunt. Rowan pulled out of Dorian, once again clutching himself to keep from coming. It must have been painful by then.

He pressed his cock into Aelin’s pussy with a hitched gasp. He fucked her gently, bringing himself to the precipice and spilling inside of her, burying his face in her neck. Dorian pulled out of her, watching as his seed dripped out of her.

“So fucking good for me, witchling,” he purred, rubbing his thumb across her bottom lip.

They eventually showered and reclothed themselves with shaky legs and tired eyes. Dorian carried Manon the few blocks back to their apartment, murmuring sweet nothings in her ear the whole time, reminding her exactly who he belonged to, no matter who they had fun with. And goddamn, was it fun.

[daydream-cement]

Stately Sequoia Ch. 10

Hi-ya guys! A little more here for ya! Should be off my phone for the day. Maybe I can write more tonight! Enjoy!

Warning: NSFW

When you awoke the next morning, Larissa shook up lightly, “Come on. Time to get up, Fern.”

You groaned, shifting yourself closer to the edge of the bed, but the movement made you realize how incredibly sore you were. Larissa noticed the discomfort on your face, “We are going to take a bath. You will feel much better afterwards.”

You nod, head still against the pillow. Against your body’s own desire, you sat yourself up, swinging your legs over the side of the bed. Larissa was in front of you, completely naked.

You sleepily smile and lean your head forward, resting it on her stomach. Your hands encircled her waist, and a satisfied hum started at the back of your throat. The principals hand brushed through your hair, “Up you go.”

———

In the bathtub, you sat between Larissa’s legs, enjoying her sweet kisses to your neck and shoulders as you allowed yourself to soak. You had both been very quiet since you settled into the steaming water. You were assuming the breaking of sexual tension between the two of you was making things a little easier. After a while you lost, track of time in the tub.

Larissa Weems was incredibly gentle with you. She washed your hair and you returned the favor. At one point you had turned around, your legs on either side of her, so you could kiss for a bit. Each caress of the hands and lips was energizing and loving. This was the most sensual experience of your life. Were you falling in love with Larissa Weems? 

———

Rowan found you in the lobby and cornered you. She had grabbed you by the wrist, pulling you into the business center, “Spill it. I need every last detail.”

“I-Uh.” You didn’t know where to start. You didn’t know if you wanted to share anything, part of it feeling incredibly private.

“I could hear it, Fern. I could hear you last night. You are in 106 and I was in 110. Just to put that into perspective.” 

You face grew warm. While you certainly had no regrets, you didn’t love knowing that so many people may have heard your torrid affair last night. You could tell Rowan was growing incredibly frustrated with you at your lack of communication.

“Okay how about this? I ask you what you did and you shake your head yes or no?” 

You nod.

“Were you guys the ones holding up the line to the bathroom?”

You nod.

“Did you hook up on the elevator?”

You shake your head.

“Hmmm. How many times did she orgasm? One, two… three?” 

Finally, you nod. Glancing out the business center window to see if anyone was eavesdropping.

“I’m so proud. How many times did you? One, two… three? Four? Fern… be serious… Five? Six!?”

You tap your finger on the tip of your nose and begin smiling. That’s when Rowan let out a shriek and began jumping up and down, “Oh. My. God. She fucked you didn’t she?”

The smile that grew bigger on your face told her all she needed to know. 

“One small step for women. One giant leap for womankind.” Rowan misquoted, causing you to roll your eyes and shake your head, “I don’t need any more details, but this is incredible.”

———

Today was the last day of the conference. You opted to stay in one lecture room as different presenters funneled through as the soreness between your legs was an aching reminder of last night. Walking wasn’t particularly fun and now you truly understand the term ‘walking funny’ in regards to sex. 

During the 2pm lecture, you were happy as Larissa opted to sit next to you in the darkened auditorium. Quickly you realized she had sat next to you through the guise of friendship. Her lips were next to your ear, “Who gave you all those marks under your collar? You must be a very naughty girl.”

Now that you were in public you felt a bit of bravery to act more obstinate than you would normally with Larissa, “That’s not what she said last night. I was told I was a very good girl.”

“A good girl would open her legs a little wider for me so I can play with your pussy while you try to focus on this seminar.” Larissa’s voice was husky. You were off to the side in the darkened auditorium, but you certainly weren’t 100% out of sight either. But you did what you were told, spreading your thighs open so Larissa’s hand could slip between them.

“Don’t you make a sound, sweet girl. Too many people hear you last night.” Larissa brought her hand to your face first, offering her fingers to suck before she put them to work. You knew this wasn’t a request but rather an order. Taking her fingers in your mouth, you left them nice and wet so she could use them on you.

She massaged you clit through your panties. After a few seconds, the soreness gave way to pleasure. What was this woman doing to you?

You gripped the edges of your chair, face unwavering, trying to prove to Larissa you could take it. This afternoon, it was taking a bit longer for Larissa’s touch to bring you to orgasm. You could tell she was frustrated when she whispered, “You better hurry. The lecture is almost over. You don’t want to be punished, do you?”

You actually did. Well you thought you might like to be punished by Larissa, especially if it was anything akin to last night. 

You reached your tipping point, however, when Larissa pulled your panties to the side. Her fingers dipped into your sex and used the wetness to rub your clit. The change from the friction of your underwear to the slippery surface of her fingertips was too much to handle.

You eyes squeezed shut involuntarily as your swallowed a moan. As you felt Larissa’s fingers slip away from you, you give her a sideways glance and she is sucking your juices off her fingers. Red lips around her fingers made you lick your own lips.

Larissa Weems was going to be the undoing of you and there was no stopping these wheels that were in motion.

Link to Chapter 11

[malulls]

The bet

Manorian hockey au

The high-pitched sound of the alarm began to ring through the room, waking Dorian so suddenly he felt like he had been hit in the forehead by a hammer. His eyelids fluttered, before slowly opening. Manon moved from where she was lying on top of him, and sat up in bed with a frown on her forehead. They both looked at the clock, marking six hours in the morning. Gods, he still hated waking up so early.

—Sorry. — Dorian said, sitting up to turn off the alarm and stop the noise. — I have a game today.

She rubbed her face and brushed her hair out of her eyes, muttering a curse.

— Is that why you were sleeping like a baby at eight?

Her voice was still hoarse with sleep, and Dorian felt every inch of his body want to lie back on the pillow and pull her with him. Instead, he leaned forward, in the opposite direction, and bit her lower lip.

— That's not what I remember to be doing at eight.

Manon rolled her eyes and sighed, knowing that they couldn't go on with that, at least not now. He got out of bed and went into the bathroom.

— You can stay and sleep until you have to go to class, if you want.

— It's fine. — she said, and rose to look for her clothes around the bedroom. — I need a ride to the campus anyway.

Dorian tried to get ready as quickly as possible so she wouldn't be waiting and he wouldn't be late, but it took a few minutes for sleep to leave his body completely, and to fix the mess Manon had made of his hair. When he left, she was already dressed in front of the mirror that stayed on the wardrobe door, pinning her hair into a ponytail, looking at the bruises on her neck that the white T-shirt she wore the night before did nothing to hide. She showed her middle finger when she saw him.

— I told you not to leave anything where the shirt wouldn't cover it. — Manon complained.

She let her hair down, which hid the marks, but the white strands were too tangled and messy to leave like that.

— Surely that's not what you said when I was putting them there.

A shoe flew past his head, and Dorian hid his smile so that she wouldn't throw the other one too. He finished dressing, and was putting on the jacket of the hockey team, but stopped halfway through the movement. The collar was high enough to cover her neck, and it would certainly be loose on her, but it would work until she could change clothes. He took it off and threw it to Manon.

— I think it'll solve the problem.

She looked from the coat to him like she was going to give it back, but took it with her when she went to the bathroom. Dorian went down the stairs that led to the living room, and found Chaol and Fenrys already awake in the kitchen. The first one holding a coffee mug, the second with his head resting on his hands and looking as if he had been hit by a truck.

— You look like shit. — Dorian said as a good morning, and opened the fridge to look for something to eat.

— Good morning to you too, Havilliard. — he murmured, and laid half his body on the counter. — Rowan is going to kill me.

— And we're going to make popcorn and watch. — Chaol replied, placing a glass full of water next to his head. — I don't know why you insist on drinking when there's a game the next day.

— The problem wasn't the drinking. — he grumbled, closing his eyes. — It's what came after. I barely slept.

— Who was the lucky lady this time? — Dorian asked, taking a seat beside Fenrys.

— One of your girlfriend's friends. The red-haired. Vesta.

He blinked, surprised, but not that much. At least it explained the sorry state Fenrys was in.

— Explains a lot. And don't say that Manon is my girlfriend. She'll rip your balls off if she hears that.

She chose that moment to appear on the stairs, looking more awake, with her hair pinned up and so beautiful in his jacket that it was ridiculous. Dorian looked away so that at least he wouldn't look as stupid as he was feeling. Fenrys suddenly came back to life when he saw her wearing the red coat of the team.

— Let's go? — Manon called out.

— I'm finishing - Dorian tossed her the car keys. — You can wait there if you're not going to steal my car and leave me behind again.

— It's been weeks ago. Get over it. — she paused in the doorway before closing it. — And I won't have to steal anything if you don't take too long.

The white door slammed shut and she left after the implied threat, ignoring the stares of the two curious men behind him. Dorian stared in the direction she had gone until Fenrys lifted his head, smiling in a way that totally justified the wolf nickname he had won on the ice.

— You were saying? - he began, in the most teasing and irritating voice possible. — Or were your thoughts interrupted by the thousands of pink hearts that appeared in your eyes when she showed up with your last name on her back?

— If you don't shut up, I'll tell Rowan that you not only drank, but had sex until three in the morning before you can defend yourself.

— It was until two in the morning.

— It won't make any difference to him, you can be sure.

Dorian put his plate in the sink behind Chaol when he finished, and said goodbye to both of them, ignoring Fenrys' mumbling. He stopped at the cupboard by the stairs to get his things while the rest of the boys went downstairs.

— See you all later. — he shouted before closing the door.

He felt a spark of electricity run through him as he stepped out into the cool morning air and walked to his car — and to the girl waiting inside. Suddenly, it didn't matter that much that the sun had barely risen. A good kind of anxiety that always preceded the games took over him, it was what happened when he put into practice everything he had worked so hard to train for.

Besides, now there was always the certainty that when he looked at the bleachers, Manon would be there. Dorian sighed, but ended up smiling. Maybe Fenrys was right about the hearts in his eyes. No matter how much Manon said against it, he knew that she had started watching the games because of him before she became obsessed with ice hockey. And Dorian would be lying if he said he wouldn't like to see her in the crowd wearing his jacket, or that she wasn't the one he looked for when they left after the game was over. Every single time.

But he didn't have time to dream about that — or about her — not at that moment. He had a game to win. And when he did, it always made anything else worth it.

—

Elide's surprised squeal could have woken a sleeping monster on the other side of the world and underground, Manon thought. It certainly had woken her. She stretched and sat up in bed for the second time in the day, at least now at a more acceptable hour. The alarm on her cell phone that normally woke her up began to ring seconds later.

— What? — she asked.

Elide didn't answer. She looked like a small animal excited and surprised by... ah. That. Manon hadn't bothered to change after Dorian had left her in front of the dorm. She had just taken off her pants, closed her eyes as quickly as possible, and blacked out. So she was still wearing the damn jacket. She hadn't even thought about taking it off. It was comfortable. It had nothing to do with being Dorian's, or his smell, or the "Havilliard" written in white on the back, just above the number 13.

— So — Manon's friend began, turning around both to hide a smile and to pick up whatever she had gone to her room to get. — When did he give you this?

— He didn't. — Manon answered, rolling her eyes. She got out of bed and went to the closet to start dressing. Gods, she needed a bath. — He borrowed it because the shirt I had didn't cover my neck, and I wasn't going to walk around the campus like this. — She lowered the jacket to the level of her elbows. Elide blushed when she saw the situation. — I'll give it back tonight at the game. And stop acting like you're pure. I'm the one who stays awake till the middle of the night with you and Lorcan wrecking the room.

— Manon!

She blushed harder and went to the doorway while Manon went to the bathroom. But Elide stopped before she left and called her again.

— Dorian would be glad to see you wearing this tonight. He could have borrowed any other coat. But he gave you this one.

The black-haired girl shrugged and said nothing more, as if she had left the sentence incomplete so Manon could think about it and get to some conclusion. But she decided just to ignore what Elide said, and went into the bathroom they shared. She had already had to deal with the stares of Fenrys and Chaol, and it was too soon for all that drama.

Of course it was important to Dorian, it was the fucking team jacket. But that meant nothing. It was just the first thing he saw. She sighed as the warm water began to fall over her body, soothing her tired muscles from the night before. They were sore, like wanting to throw in her face how much she had exaggerated with that "eight".

Anyway, she wasn't Dorian's girlfriend to walk around the arena in his coat while he was on the ice. It didn't matter either that she knew Elide maybe was right about him being glad to see her wearing it. Manon groaned, resting her head on the glass.

She was just going to give the damn jacket back.

—

Manon: where are you?

Dorian: locker room.

Manon: Already? Did you have to go on the show without your gala outfit matching the rest of the models?

I brought your coat

Dorian: The lack of the outfit didn't affect my impeccable performance for your information

And you can keep it if you want

You know that

Manon: and be attacked by 15 different girls who will be heartbroken if they think you're dating?

No, thank you

Dorian: has anyone ever told you that your sense of humor is a jewel?

Manon: Go put your skates on Havilliard

—

Manon looked anxiously at the scoreboard for what seemed like the thousandth time in the last minute, while Vesta and Elide were swearing beside her. They were losing. A curse escaped her mouth as well. Maybe, initially, she had started watching the matches and had become curious because of Dorian, but Manon had discovered that she really liked the adrenaline of hockey.

And if she wasn't lying, she enjoyed watching him play. If there was any way for Dorian Havilliard to be hotter, it was when he was on ice. There was a contagious tension and excitement before playing that was almost visible in the boys. Then, if they won, they had a huge party that was almost as interesting as the game to celebrate the victory. And when she and Dorian got tired of the party, they disappeared upstairs and he fucked her even better than he normally did. If he loved the games, she had learned to enjoy them too.

And she hated losing to the arrogant assholes from the other universities. Not that the boys on the Orynth University team weren't, but as Aelin Galathynius liked to say, the only arrogant assholes she would bother to tolerate were those, and that was enough for a lifetime.

But it wasn't just because she was competitive that Manon hated to lose. She knew how hard Dorian worked, and how down he got when the team lost. That match was being hard.

The boys came skating back onto the ice at the end of the break, and their half of the crowd screamed, trying to get them excited again. It was clear how tired they were. The other team was good. Really good.

She looked for the number 13 on Dorian's uniform, at the same time that he found her in the bleachers. They looked at the scoreboard at the same time, and she reprimanded him with a look.

We're trying, he said, just moving his mouth.

Try harder then.

Dorian rolled his eyes at her answer. They evidently had a disadvantage, and though it was not so great and they did not seem to have given up yet, it would be difficult for them to win. A silly idea popped into her mind, one that would surely take away at least some of Dorian's worry. Manon looked at the scoreboard again, biting her lip. Well, fuck it.

Do you want to make a bet? , She asked, and Dorian frowned.

What?

She lifted the jacket in her hand. If you win, I'll wear this.

Dorian blinked, surprised, and then smiled.

Deal

Before the two of them could say anything else, the coach called out, he put on his helmet, and seconds later was in position with the rest of the team, getting ready for the last chance to win. And now, there was no way he was going to lose.

—

The rest of the game seemed to happen at light speed. Dorian had the audacity to score two goals. The first was enough to make the boys recover their confidence and turn the game. Chaol managed to get the defense better and didn't let the disc pass once again. It was Rowan Whitethorn who scored the winning goal. The crowd went a bit crazy, and even Manon screamed a little, infected with the cheer. It was one of the best games she had ever seen.

She, Vesta and Elide went outside the doors, waiting for the boys to come out. She was surprised to see her friend there, and even more surprised when she said she would go to the party to see Fenrys. She would need a report later about when that had happened.

The two had both widened their eyes when they saw Manon putting on the jacket, as did half of the people in the arena. She only explained the bet, like it was nothing. They were not alone, Aelin and Yrene Towers met them at the exit to wait for Rowan and Chaol.

With many celebrating shouts, the doors opened and the team exited, half of them going in their direction. Manon's heart raced. Dorian was looking straight at her, with a smile so large on his face that she felt her mouth curl up at the corners.

— You lost — he joked, standing in front of her.

— You didn't. — Manon replied, crossing her arms.

He slipped his arm around her waist, and she didn't even think to resist when he pulled her into a kiss. She buried her fingers in his hair, still wet from the shower, ignoring the screams that began around them. Neither of them cared about the scandalous idiots. She could feel how happy he was, as if he was still smiling even as he kissed her. They were breathless when they pulled back, still ignoring everyone.

— I'm proud of you, princeling — she whispered into his lips, low enough so only he could hear.

He kissed Manon again, slower that time.

— Let's go. — Dorian pointed as they separated, and was quick enough to steal a kiss on her cheek before Manon could get away. Then he laughed at her scowl.

They both finally started to follow their friends, who were already shouting at them to leave the kissing for the bedroom. Dorian didn't try to hold her hand because he knew better than that, but he put an arm around her waist, and as they walked he pulled her closer. Manon let him.

That night, she would let.

—

🎨: @mellendraws

commissioned by: shavanreads

I LOVED writing manorian with that off-campus vibe, mostly because I re-read The Deal at the end of last year and I was obsessed with this fanart (as always)

This fic should've been posted in january but the tags weren't working 🙄, after three fucking months they're finally working again

Anyway, I hope you all like it 😘

[alolanrain]

Ta!au HC’s but their more focused on Rowan bc I love his old ass in this au to much

\ if he had to pick a favorite kid between Gary, Ash and Dawn it would be Gary without hesitation. he was the first scrappy little Buizel, a nickname he only ever calls Gary in his head, Rowan willingly brought home. 

\ he wasn’t to pleased when Councilman Kyubi from Unova and Regi, human Kyurem and Regigigas respectfully, showed up at his door at ass o’clock in the morning. Ash and Pikachu, beaten and bruise with noticeable dashes of dried blood on the collar of the kids shirt, looked so pathetic standing between the two adults. swaying on his feet and looking like both he and his partner were about to drop from exhaustion. 

\ Gary saw and snatched Ash right up before Rowan could turn the three away, because being a babysitter is not his problem. Gary works for him for Arceus sake, he can’t get away from the brunette even if he tried. though the Professors steely marine strength resolve dissipated when he saw just how heavily Ash leaned into Gary after the door was closed. 

\ Rowan refers to Ash as a short circuited Rotom in his head. Dawn is the only one who gets the verbal nickname of Shinx, she totally doesn’t rub it into Gary and Ash’s face when Rowans not around. 

\ is actually really sentimental, it’s the old age, and Ingo gets the brunt of it when they officially start dating. 

\  “My shining Gallade” get’s used pretty often along with “Sneaky Zoroark” when he finds Ingo sneaking down the halls to get a midnight snack or to sneak into his office when Rowans working on paperwork to try and steal his attention. 

\ big on words of affirmation, those come easy to both the kids and his assistants. it’s one of the main reasons why it’s so hard to be accepted to be apart of his small group of lab assistants because the man doesn’t trust easy and an open spot is fought over so hard in the science community. 

\ doesn’t give touches a lot, saves the act for when he’s being really sentimental over someone or something, but likes to receive. never flinches away when the kids lean in on him during the early hours of the mornings-when the nightmares are still a little to fresh and they needed just a little bit of support-or when Ingo places a hand on some part of his neck to get Rowan’s attention. 

\ Ingo constantly has cold long bony fingers, seemingly no matter what the weather is like, and Emmet used to hate it when he touched him with them. the kids always flinch away and whine when he teasingly dances the tips of his fingers along the back of their neck when their zoning out or hyper focused on something. he can’t for the life of him make Rowan flinch away. the Professor always leans into the touch regardless if Ingo’s hand was incased in a bowl of icy cold water just mere seconds before. 

\ Ingo naturally just cold as shit and he wasn’t like this before Hisui so it’s definitely a post-thing. like he ran cold-ish for a human being but now it’s like he’s almost constantly covered in ice and snow. he didn’t notice it back in Hisui, when Ash and Dawn repeatedly pointed it out while dancing out of his grip during their sparring but it hinders him a lot now that he’s back in the present time. 

\ Rowan, Gary and Ash naturally carry hand warmers since Sinnoh’s cold and Ash and Rowan’s bones have taken their fair share of beatings but the whole squad takes it upon themselves to always have at least two ones ready and waiting to go incase Ingo suddenly needs them

\ not like Ingo doesn’t already have four in his sweater pockets already. 

\ Sandgem Town quickly becomes the new hot spot of Legendary’s and the two residents just look at what's going on, notices they stick around Rowans house, and decides it’s not worth it to brother the Professor. heading back inside like they were just checking the weather outside. 

\ Gary cooks, Rowan grills/barbecues, Ash bakes, Ingo is good at frying stuff and Dawn tops it all off by making some mean salads with hand made dressings. they try their best to have a somewhat family dinner but since all five of their schedules are so wacked in ways they have to coordinate who’s going to be home or not. 

\ Rowan and Ingo prefer Kalosian based food the best. pasta or a small charcutiery board of prosciutto, kalosian creamy cheese’s like brie, crackers and fruits. both are so used to snacking throughout the day that if their working on paperwork together in Rowans office the older man will make a board so they can eat through it. it seems to make the time fly easier when they do. 

\ Gary is a spice-olic. it seems no plate is spicy enough for him. always offers Ash a bite no matter how hot it is because Ash is a damn foodie and eat it regardless. Rowan always sighs deeply when their out and about in restaurants because Ash will no doubt make a scene. 

\ Ash loves Kantonian food, even though he has very little spice tolerance, but if he had to chose his ultimate favorite food it would have to be extra crispy, thick crust, deep fried imitated-Combusken. he’s had real deep fried Combusken before but prefers the vegan option because the texture of the ‘meat’ is better in his opinion.

\ it’s not like he didn’t feel guilting thinking about May’s Blaziken when he tried it for the first time. 

\ oddly enough that’s not Ash’s favorite part of the dish. it’s just the skin and breading. he will literally leave the ‘meat’ alone and just eat the outer layer of breading and be happy. Ingo is trying to perfect it so Ash doesn’t waste to much money buying the whole thing meal, even if Gary and Dawn happily eat the ‘meat’ part with out Ash having to ask them, but he’s failing horribly since it’s hard to cut the skin off without cooking it. 

\ Dawn has no spice level and actively refuses any bite of spicy-shit that Gary offers. she knows what she likes and sticks to her comfort foods, even if the majority of her diet is junk foods like chips and candy besides the salad she eats every other day. 

\ both Ingo and Ash don’t use phones. Ash because he just doesn’t want to and doesn’t really see the point since he can call people on his pokedex. Ingo because he’s taking a break from the majority of electronics, since he’s been around Lord Electrode Ingo can now hear the electricity running through the house and the lab. 

\ it’s not uncommon for the others to find Ingo reading a book next to a lit flame instead of having the lights on. Ash and Rowan can easily navigate through the dark, Gary just uses the glow of Umbreons rings to watch out where he’s stepping and Dawn just uses the flash on her phone but turned down to the lowest setting. 

\ it’s weird to the other professor’s how easily Rowan can share his space with the four and his more long standing assistants but not his fellow colleagues. it’s a trust thing that he picked up in the Corps and it just stuck. 

\ when Ash is gone and Dawn is off with Barry and Zoey, silence over takes the house. besides the odd argument with Oak over the phone or video feed and the way Professor Magnolia and Birch just talks loud in general there’s rarely any continuous loud noises. it does change when Ash is finally able to transfer all his Pokémon from Oaks ranch to Rowans care, Charizard and Swellow are loud motherfuckers in the morning, but not by much as the majority of his Pokemon enjoy the silence or go scream in the woods that boarder the back of Rowans large backyard.