#cfwc naughty or nice

[liaromancewriter]

Seduction At The Opera

Premise: Cassie and Ethan attend the opera, but their focus isn’t on the performance.

Book: Open Heart (post series) Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Cassie Valentine) Rating/Category: Mature – NSFW. Fluff. Words: 1,745

A/N: Submission for @choicesficwriterscreations Naughty and Nice. 😈 prompt: “You distract me.” “Do you want me to stop?”

Also submitting to @choicesmonthlychallenge Kinktober prompt “Teasing”. Inspired by this ask from @peonierose​

Cassie Valentine sipped champagne, savoring the bubbles that exploded on her tongue. Her mind was humming with memories of the first time she’d visited Ethan’s private box at the opera.

The intimate space had a breathtaking view of the stage, but that wasn’t what she remembered. It was how he’d groaned, giving in to temptation and deepening the forbidden kiss; their emotions were so intense it was like being inside an electric storm.

She’d clung to him, taking everything he had to offer and giving it back tenfold. In that moment, she’d been ready to give it all up for him.

Back then, their love had seemed impossible, just like that of Alessandra and Damarion. But unlike the two lovers united only in the underworld, she and Ethan had found a way to make it work in the world of the living. And just a few short weeks ago, he’d promised her forever.

She regarded the elegant engagement ring gracing her left hand. The snowdrift, round-cut diamond sparkled as it caught the light from the overhead chandelier. A wistful smile hovered on her lips as she recalled how Ethan had slipped the ring on her finger last week and raised their entwined fingers to his lips.

Cassie had recognized the jeweler’s box and the style immediately. And she’d felt tears gather at the thought of where Ethan had found the ring and who had helped him. It was perfect for her in every way that mattered.

Lost in memories, her heart suddenly skipped a beat when she heard the swoosh of the heavy curtains falling behind her. And then he was there. Dr. Ethan Ramsey. Her lover, her soulmate, her fiancé, and soon her husband.

Suave and handsome in a black tux, bowtie expertly knotted, his brown hair effortlessly tousled, he took her breath away. She bit her lip, watching him walk towards her with the grace of a panther and the predatory gaze of a wolf.

When he’d gotten dressed earlier, her mouth had salivated at how his snowy white shirt molded to the hard muscles of his chest. He’d shrugged on the jacket, the custom fit hugging his broad shoulders.

He’d caught her eye-fucking him in the mirror and threw her a cocky grin, quirking one brow as he turned to face her. His eyes became heated, scanning her from head to toe, pausing at his favorite parts before continuing his perusal.

The one-shoulder black dress clung to her curves, leaving her collarbone and left arm bare. A cuff bracelet wrapped around her wrist, and matching chandelier earrings hung from her earlobes. That and her engagement ring were the only pieces of jewelry she wore.

If they hadn’t already committed to attending tonight’s benefit performance, she would have dragged him to the walk-in closet floor and fucked him to oblivion.

As it was, Ethan knew precisely how to turn her on. He’d been slowly seducing her all evening. First in the elevator heading down when he’d splayed his hand across her back, shifting lower to cup her ass, his fingers teasing her through the thin fabric of her dress.

Then in the back of the car he’d hired for the night. He’d crowded into her space, draping one arm over her bare shoulder. His fingers slowly traced down her left arm, leaving nerve endings in their wake.

With one eye on the driver, his other hand glided along the smooth fabric, teasing the top of one silken thigh peeking through the slit in her dress. He leaned in to kiss the sensitive spot behind her ear, lightly biting the edge of the lobe before soothing it with his tongue.

By the time the car dropped them off outside the opera house, Cassie’s panties were wet, and her skin flushed. All she wanted was to drag Ethan to their box and shove his fingers inside her, easing the ache spreading across her lower belly.

But the man was perverse.

He’d handed her a champagne flute from a passing server, escorted her to their box and then left her there. He said he needed to chat urgently with Merle Brodeur, the germaphobe businessman and one of Edenbrook’s donors.

Cassie had been ready to scream in frustration until she figured out his game. Two could play this one, she thought, giving him a side-eyed stare when he sat beside her.

“Sorry about that,” Ethan said, not sounding sorry at all but smug. “I’d promised Merle an update on the community clinic.”

Cassie continued to sip her champagne. “I imagine Merle is happy his donation keeps Boston’s population germ-free.”

“Not sure how realistic that is,” Ethan said, making a face like he wasn’t convinced of the possibility of a germ-free world. “But at least he’s willing to keep the checks coming to fund the clinic.”

The house lights dimmed, and the din around the hall abruptly cut off. Ethan placed her empty flute under the chair and took her hand, interlacing his fingers with hers.

The orchestra roared to life as the curtains slowly opened to reveal a gilded, imperial set. Soaring music filled the air, and a man began to sing, his voice full of passion and despair.

A short while later, Cassie stole a look at Ethan’s face, and her heart melted at how relaxed he appeared. She knew Puccini’s Turandot was his favorite opera and was glad they could attend this one-night-only performance.

Halfway through the first act, Cassie crossed one leg over the other, deliberately taking her time. The silky fabric of her black dress fell to the side, revealing toned legs. She pretended to adjust the folds of her dress, the movement exposing one leg almost to the hipbone.

“You distract me,” Ethan murmured, his eyes drifting to where the slit stretched against the top of her thigh.

“Do you want me to stop?” she teased, her grin oh so very wicked as she trailed one finger along her skin, starting at the knee and stopping when she reached the edge of the slit.

His breath hitched, and red pricks splashed across his cheekbones. Ensuring that she had his attention, Cassie slipped her hand beneath the opening of her dress.

Placing two fingers under her chin, Ethan lifted her face toward him. His blue eyes peered into hers, watching the green irises darkening with desire. His warm hand covered hers, pushing the front of her dress away, exposing her drenched panties to his scrutiny.

He turned his palm to interlace their fingers, guiding them to the juncture between her thighs and teasing her with long, slow strokes. Cassie could feel the friction of the lace rubbing against her pulsating core and the wetness coating her fingers.

Before she could catch her breath, Ethan lifted her hand and took her fingers inside his mouth. His tongue swirled around tips, licking and tasting her, his eyes turning almost black with dark desire.

“Hush,” he commanded, eyes narrowing as a moan escaped her lips. “The boxes on either side of us are occupied. I need you quiet while you take what I give you.”

Cassie wanted to argue. But he suddenly pressed his thumb against the sensitive, throbbing nub, and she swallowed back the words.

“Don’t make a sound, or I will stop,” he growled.

She nodded, feeling the blush spread as she remembered where they were. Ethan’s lips closed over hers, capturing the mewling sound that threatened to escape when he increased the pressure.

With a powerful tug, he tore her panties in half, smirking in satisfaction at her shocked gasp. She raised her hips, and he pulled the tattered lace away, tucking it inside his jacket pocket.

Cassie placed one hand on the side of his face. She leaned in and gently brushed her lips across his, coaxing a tender response from him. His lips softened against her, and he framed her face between his hands.

As turned on as she was, it wasn’t just lust. It had never been just lust. Not even that time when he’d kissed her back in this box all those years ago. It was love.

Cassie could hear the opera’s crescendo in the distance and knew intermission wasn’t far behind. Ethan must have sensed it too. He broke off their kiss, watching her intently, his chest rising and falling. The tension was palpable as they stared at each other, lust and love mingling into aching desperation.

Ethan dropped to his knees, the top of his head hidden by the curved balcony. He buried his face between her thighs, his lips nibbling and sucking, driving her up. He was relentless in his assault, the lapping of his tongue timed to the melody drifting from the stage.

Cassie bit down hard on the soft leather of her black clutch purse as her orgasm ripped through her. And still, he kept going, his hand joining his frenzied tongue.

His thumb strummed her clit, and another shiver went through her. He eased one finger inside her and then another, thrusting deep. Her inner muscles clenched around him while one hand locked behind his head, holding him captive against her core. She climaxed again as the first act came to a close.

As her body slowly fell back to earth, he took his seat and folded her in his arms. Her face nestled against his chest, breathing in his scent. He kissed the top of her head, and his hand softly brushed down her hair.

The house lights brightened, and the noise level rose as people made their way to the lobby outside.

Suddenly, Cassie started giggling, a hiccup escaping as giggles turned into laughter.

“What’s so funny?” Ethan asked, one eyebrow quirked in confusion.

“You,” said Cassie, trying to swallow her laughter but failing miserably. “I can’t believe you just went down on me, making me come not once but twice in the middle of a sold-out performance of Turandot. You’re lucky I have excellent self-control, babe, because I don’t want to imagine the headlines tomorrow.”

“Christ!” Ethan groaned, briefly bowing his head in dismay before meeting her laughing gaze. “You make me forget myself, Rookie.”

Cassie swiftly kissed his lips. “The feeling’s mutual, Dr. Ramsey.” She straightened in her chair. “What do you say we get out of here and continue the second act at home?”

His response was simple. Ethan tightly clasped Cassie’s hand in his and made a run for the exit.

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

All Fics & Edits: @potionsprefect @trappedinfanfiction @mysticalgalaxysstuff @choicesaddict5 @jerzwriter @vi-writes-stuff @coffeeheartaddict2 @quixoticdreamer16 @zahrachoices @lucy-268 @a-crepusculo @jamespotterthefirst @headoverheelsforramsey @takemyopenheart @queencarb @crazy-loca-blog @peonierose @cariantha @annfg8 @openheartforeverinmyheart @bluebelle08 @rookiemartin @doriopenheart​ @genevievemd​ @bex-la-get​

Ethan & Cassie only: @custaroonie @lady-calypso @hopelessromantic1352

@openheartfanfics​

[inlocusmads]

The Adventure of the Counterfeit Coins

In order to prove a museum isn't in fact, a museum at all, Nora and Trystan must go on a little "date" to scavenge for counterfeit artefacts. As usual, disasters ensue.

Featuring: Nora Rose, Trystan Thorne from Crimes of Passion

Word Count: 1.8k | No Warnings/Teen | References to Crimes, Book 1. Very mild spoilers ahead.

A/N: More case fics are on their way! This is the first of many, many such short stories. Written for @choicesficwriterscreations's "Naughty or Nice" event. I went with "museum dates" as the prompt.

🎵 Listen to Crates of Books as seen/heard on Sherlock.

“Museums. Museums. Museums. Museums. Museums.” Nora jabbered. 

She continued. “It doesn’t sound like a proper word anymore. There’s the -- oh, look. At. That. Mediaeval vases! Traditional, looks stolen and -- that one is a definite fake. You’d assume museums actually put up genuine artefacts, but you’d be wrong. There’s a whole fraction of them there, behind those veiled glass cases and you wouldn’t be able to tell the difference between papier-mache and actual mud, unless--”

She got a pocket torchlight from her back-up purse and shone it against the vase. “Rigid, a bit -- erm-- what's the word, ah porous! Porous! In some places, the material’s quite-- different compared to ordinary clay, there’s a lot of choppy paint work, as if they couldn’t be bothered to make it believable. Most definitely a fake.”

The Calloway Museum, an institution funded by the Hallow Group, were a bunch of liars. Sure, they had an exquisite art gallery, but most of what they mentioned in their Start Here! Tour pamphlets were all wrong. The vase, ambiguously named Chombo hicho and its origins dating to East Africa, didn’t actually exist.

Firstly, vases didn’t exist in 9000 BC, because it wasn’t until 6000 BC, vases travelled from China to Africa and had their use popularly widespread. Either the editors of the “Start Here!” pamphlets assumed that “9000 BC” was somehow older than “6000 BC”, or that it was really just a big old scam, milking money from viewers, casual-passersby and philanthropists at the same time. 

“Detective--”

“And the coins! God, I’d love to get one and test it under a microscope. Look at them! Look!"

“Detective--”

“Appears that the edge milling isn’t even properly raised. There’s also the stamping issue and the detailing. It feels like a shabby piece of work; as if they manufactured them in a machine after casting a coin in a silicone mould. It is, arguably, cheaper to work that way. Perhaps they could’ve digitally made them. You’ve got 3D printers. All it takes is a skilled graphics designer to carefully study the coin from images, draw it up exactly as it looks like, with some alterations here and there and--”

“Detective!”

“Oh, yes. It appears that I’m -- doing that thing again. Sincere apologies.”

“Yes. It is supposed to be a casual outing.” Trystan shook his head, quite frankly a little exhausted. “An outing is defined as when two or more people decide to go to an interesting place, without bringing in their work. You know-- like a date.”

It was odd seeing Trystan Thorne be a voice of reason, but it was warranted. It was usually Nora being the "No! Don't lick the gravestone!" person and granted, it was a miracle the universe hadn't promptly collapsed under the Role-Reversal Effect, as many romantic enthusiasts had put it.

Nora had been going on and on about counterfeit coins ever since the Matthew Bauman case, which involved a truck load of fake Euros and what appeared to be several tiny packets of a white powdery substance, chemically known as methamphetamine (also known as “N,α-dimethylbenzeneethanamine” or “the happy fast thing”) hidden cleverly inside two astutely engineered sides of a coin. Nora hadn’t stopped talking about the absolute genius and it had already been three days. 

It was also equally odd seeing the two dazed and confused “friends” walk about in a museum where, a few months ago, a wonderfully talented artist was brutally silenced by a man with a Morrigan Mask, who’d severed her heart. The place held trauma and was not at all optimal for “casual outings”. However these two had a very good reason to be there.

Due to Sonja Dormer’s murder case, the Calloway Museum was under a lawsuit regarding monetary compensation by Sonja’s parents. It went like this: Since Sonja was murdered in the museum’s premises and especially given that she’s a high-profile (was) artist and was given no security whatsoever, the Hallow Group were initially charged with paying a hefty damages fee to all the immediately affected parties; namely Sonja’s family for causing emotional distress under Tort Law.

The problem was, everything went fine. Too fine.

Considering Sonja’s family directed their lawsuit towards the management for organising and hosting a party, involving Sonja and no proper security regulations; referring to the Hallow Group as a “business” in several legal documents, with a “business management” that was callous in the smooth operation of their festivities. And this was a golden opportunity to take advantage of.

The defendant quickly made the claim that the Hallow Group was not a business institution, because it was a "not-for-profit organisation" that managed other non-for-profit organisations, the Calloway Museum being one of them. They held the proof of the Gala being a massive fundraiser to support local artists. Thus, the debate on “what qualifies as a business?” thus began and the trial hadn’t concluded since then.

“They closed down the Concession Stand.” Trystan remarked. 

Sonja’s parents approached the Ginovesi Agency a couple of days ago, after all that endless emotional turmoil they’d undergone and they wanted immediate proof that the Calloway Museum was indeed a for-profit business enterprise. Hence, these two showed up practically every other day; making a note of everything.

If, suppose, the Concession Stand handed out receipts and bills, it would be easier to prove that the Calloway Museum was indeed, making some profit from all the snack bars and the peanut brittle. And that was the intended plan. Unfortunately, it went down like a lead balloon after the Stand shut down. (Sonja’s parents didn’t have very good attorneys, anyway.)

“How do you prove something’s a business?” Nora asked the question.

“Well, you look into their records. And unfortunately in terms of records, we don’t have any records.” Trystan shook his head. “Just because an institution hires people, employs them, gives them a salary and so on and so forth, it doesn’t mean it is a proper, legally-backed-up business. And even if we do look into their records, find some -- bills, it won’t be enough. They have really good attorneys and enough personnel to fudge, swindle, lie, cheat and steal.”

Nora tilted her head, eyebrows raised, the wheels cramming and shrieking inside her mind.

“What? I brushed up on some legal reading. Museums don’t qualify as business enterprises, anyway. They’re often registered under non-profit organisations.”

“Perhaps--” The wheels in Nora’s head turned. “Perhaps we need to prove that the Calloway Museum isn’t a museum at all. Think about it. The vase we just saw was clearly a fake. A replica, even. But it went unmentioned. Museums would have that sort of thing. This is a replica of the blah-blah-blah thing. Perhaps we can prove that this museum isn’t a museum, because it doesn’t specify the true nature of the artefacts it displays. In direct violation of some -- code or whatever. The ICOM code, yes! That!”

“Great! How do we prove that? Maybe the vase is real.”

“Let’s take a look at the coins for a change.”

“This is supposed to be a date, Detective.” Trystan huffed, exasperatedly.

“And you’re giving up on your friend, Sonja? Not a good look.”

“I’m not! I’m just-- it is best if we stay out of trouble for a while.”

“What? One stabbing incident and you’re now a big old -- softie? You have to be joking.”

“Detective, this is--”

“Let’s see--” Nora bent down to see the glass case filled with ancient Chinese coins. Being a part-Chinese herself and having been expertly schooled by her mother on numismatics at a very young age as a substitute for bedtime stories, Nora could easily identify nearly three fakes. She couldn’t take a picture, but she wrote the details down, including what the Calloway Museum claimed to be the “true origin” of the coins. 

The coins in question were Ban Liangs, the first unified currency, minted under the emperor, Qin Shi Huang. They were curious little things with square holes in the middle. (As square-ish a circle could be). The date on the placard put the date of issue of the coins somewhere during the year, 221 BC, but the work was too perfect. (The "221B"C being just a lovely little coincidence)

Now, it was quite impossible to look at a coin and determine its legitimacy. Any ordinary human would break under the pressure. Like Trystan, for instance, who was now visibly sweating, turning around with his hands glued to his pockets, as if he was ready to throw a punch at any armed guard. Nora didn’t catch onto the danger just yet, because she was incredibly dense that way. Ridiculously smart, an insufferable genius, a calculative mastermind but also a proud resident of the City of Obliviousness.

Common characteristics among the residents included, but not limited to, obliviousness towards flirting, a blatant disregard for danger and otherwise perilous situations and possibly, in possession of the stupidest mind one could possibly have.

Detective Nora Rose had really good eyes. She knew colour saturations, studied ancient lettering for fun and knew, for certain, that such a neat job was impossible back in the olden days. In the olden days, freestyle lettering was a lot more common and this one looked straight out of some Nerdy McNerdy’s 3D printer. Upon close examination Nora concluded, in the span of six minutes, that the dimensions were off, the metal quality was frankly terrible and she doubted it was actually bronze. Even further examinations later, she observed that there were no grooves.

“Why do you have a metal detector in your purse?” Trystan deviated from his worries to enquire a stupid question.

“Pocket metal detector. Every woman and man has one. Ever since Brooklyn experienced this -- weird surge in -- these robot dates, dubbed one’s Perfect Match, there’s been quite a bit of panic in the dating field. Nobody knows if it is some rumour that the kids cooked up or if it actually holds true.”

“Robot Humans. I’ve seen this before. And I don’t feel so good.”

“Yeah-- just hold on a bit. This can penetrate through glass! I spent a lot on getting this, to the point where I haven’t gotten new clothes in the past-- six years. Shining.. Shining.. Aha! Not bronze! Gotcha.”

“Detective--”

“Now, I’ll just have to report my findings to the..”

“DETECTIVE! I believe we have a situation here!”

The two of them turned around to face a fleet of armed guards with guns pointing directly at them.

“If it is worth mentioning now, perhaps--” Trystan began, slowly raising his hand. “The Calloway Museum and its subsidiaries receive a portion of their funding from several Cultural Ambassadors from this very tiny European country. Very tiny, actually. Not the biggest. Just up in the Baltic -- mountains. I might know them.. You know, from other places.”

Nora let out an audible sigh. “And you didn’t think to mention it earlier?”

“Of course not! I just happen to love getting killed in various dumb ways, actually!” Trystan said. 

“Nice to meet you, Prince Thorne. Now, please get down while I attempt my very best to kill you with this wonderful AK-12. Thank you very much for cooperating!” Their leader stepped forth with a massive rifle of his own.

“I have a plan. But we might not make it out alive. It’s a very slim chance, actually. Around 30-70, with the seventy being our odds of not making it out alive.”

“That isn’t a plan!”

“It is a very good plan! Just -- trust me on this, Detective.” Trystan looked determined. 

A/N: And that's it! I'm ending it there! Now nobody would know what Trystan's superb plan really was all about. Hahaha (evil laugh)

Now I'm not a legal expert. I asked a bunch of different people about "suing a business party on accounts of distress" and many people had different answers. So I'm just going to leave it at that and not address it further, because I spent so many hours going through it, I'm physically sick and distressed myself. If anyone's an attorney or a law student here, please help me with this!

[I remember in Extraordinary Attorney Woo, there was this case where a daughter's family sued a hotel's management for a wedding dress slip-up. I'm operating under the same assumptions, even though South Korean laws and United States laws can vary)

Did you like that Perfect Match reference? :)

This is the coin, the Ban Liang, that the Calloway Museum faked:

I'm not a numismatics expert either! So some details might be ambiguous, wrong, vague, etc. If you happen to know something about the general manufacturing of these coins, how they were smelted, sculpted, etc, please reach out. I want to include some details!

Okay that's all. Thanks for reading!

Tag List

Please let me know if you'd like to be tagged for my works. Since I lost a majority of my works & my tag list in my "reboot", I have a hard time recalling things. You can always DM me, send an ask, reblog or comment or get the info to me any way you like. Currently there are 4 lists: Perma, Crimes of Passion only, Open Heart only & Wake the Dead only.

Perma: @ofmischiefandmedicine, @quixoticdreamer16 @tessa-liam

Crimes only: @aallotarenunelma @ao719 @trappedinfanfiction

[jamespotterthefirst]

Versace on the Floor (Ethan x MC)

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Lilac Allende)

Word count: 1.3k

|Warning: Strong Language and NS*FW content. Please use discretion and caution when viewing this work. By viewing of this work, you consent that you are 18+

Premise: The dress that taunts him all night ends up in a pile on the floor.

Author’s Note: This is for @choicesficwriterscreations Naughty and Nice event! The prompt I used was s*x toy. Also, I couldn't think of a title so I went with this song by Bruno Mars. I mean, "Oooh I love that dress/ But you won't need it anymore" is perfect.

A simple casual hand on his thigh in the backseat of their Uber is all it took for Ethan to urgently count down the minutes until he could have her alone. To be fair, it didn't take much to reduce him down to a caveman— not when his beautiful and coquettish wife was a master at teasing and seducing him. The task was even easier for her when she donned a sinful number, complete with her signature leg slit and plunging neckline.

His hands were on her the second the elevator door closed behind them minutes later. With very little ceremony, Ethan backed her against the mirrored wall of the cart. Lilac responded in kind, circling her arms around his neck and flashing him a devilish little smile. 

“You're dead-set on killing me,” he muttered, leaning in to kiss her neck. 

“I can't imagine what you mean.”

But even the would-be innocent proclamation melted into a soft moan. 

“All night you've been teasing me with this dress.” His fingers gripped the fabric. “The looks you gave me…that little smile of yours… the way you swiveled your hips so I could stare…”

“You were checking me out, Dr. Ramsey?” she said in mock surprise. “And here I thought you weren't an ass man.”

“I enjoy everything about you.”

The ding announcing the elevator's arrival at their floor impeded her reply. She tried to straighten as the doors slid open, but Ethan's face remained buried deeply in the crook of her neck. She nudged him playfully but he protested, humming against her skin and sending chills through her spine. 

“We should go inside,” she laughed. “Unless you want me to undress you here for all the neighbors to see.”

Ethan groaned against her neck but relented, pulling away. Before she could lead the way to their apartment, he hoisted her up with ease, bringing out a string of delighted laughter from Lilac. Reflexively, she wrapped her legs firmly around his waist. 

“What's gotten into you?” 

Ethan paused, watching her laughter unfold. Though he was silent, his gaze drilled into her with a multitude of unsaid words. Pressed tightly against him, she could see the kaleidoscope of colors in his eyes, as beautiful and complex as a raging ocean. 

“I'm just struck by how much I love you.”

Her chest could never hope to contain the warmth and happiness his words inspired. Lovestruck in his arms, Lilac decided there were no words, in either of her languages, that could ever measure her love for her Ethan. Instead, she kissed him, painting her feelings with every stroke of her lips. 

Something raw and urgent unraveled in both of them. 

In less than five minutes, they were in their bedroom, Lilac pinned promptly under him on the mattress. Her dress, victim of Ethan's inpatient hands, lay on the floor in a heap. 

“Mmm,” she moaned as he kissed a trail down her body.  

The slow descent of his lips was sweet torture for Ethan. With every kiss, her skin melted against his tongue like warm sugar. By the time he reached the soft mound of her stomach, Lilac lifted off the mattress impatiently. 

“More,” she pleaded breathlessly. 

“Open your legs.”

Lilac obeyed, spreading her thighs for him. He wasted no time, kneeling before her, ready to worship every part of her with his lips. He started with hot, deliberate kisses on the soft skin of her inner thighs. His tongue traced lazy circles there, teasing her, pushing her further into desperation. Every time he neared the lacy hem of her panties, he moved his kisses away. 

Lilac let out an impatient little cry. 

“Taste me, baby.”

The breathless urgency in her voice vanquished the last of his restraint. Shifting her hips slightly before him and easing her legs over his shoulder, he pushed the lace aside and took her in his mouth. He groaned against her, devouring her just like in his filthiest fantasies. Unceremoniously, he gripped her ass with one hand, the other roaming past her belly to fondle her breasts. 

“Ethan! Oh my god!” 

Lilac's cries filled the room as she writhed under him, taking her pleasure from him with the most sensual twists of her hips. Drunk on her, his lips nibbled and sucked as she gripped his hair, bringing her closer. And all along, his eyes remained locked on hers…

“F-f-fuck,” she cried. 

She came, completely at the mercy of his tongue. 

Ethan flicked his tongue until she rode off the high. At last, her head fell back against the mattress, her chest heaving as she fought to catch her breath. 

“That was…” she started. “So good. Nothing beats when you do that.”

Ethan raised a dark brow at that. 

“Are you sure about that, Rookie?” 

The challenge in his voice, combined with the old nickname, thrilled her. It would have been embarrassing just how quickly her body was ready for him again. Except, they were both aware of the effect they had on each other. 

“Because,” he began, dotting her neck with hot kisses, “I have several ideas to prove you wrong.”

Heavily-lidded blue eyes met hers, glinting with devilish promise. 

"Yes,” she moaned, unabashed. 

He was kissing her breasts again, the scruff of his beard scratching the delicate skin. 

“Prove me wrong.”

Ethan growled a moan of his own against her skin. His movements were firm as he repositioned her on the mattress, growing rougher at her breathless request. In only minutes, the man had her close to orgasm again, this time with the help of one of her vibrators.

“A little higher—right there!” 

Ever the expert, he obeyed, finding just the right spot. 

“Yes! Oh, God!” 

Right before she came, however, he pulled it away.

Quivering, Lilac almost protested, until he positioned the thick tip of his cock at her entrance. He pushed in slowly, making her walls quiver around him with each, thick, pulsating inch. When he was fully inside her, he paused, quietly admiring her. 

“More,” she begged. 

Slowly, he pulled out in a long, torturous stroke. When he pushed back in, he moaned. The sound was so hot, Lilac clenched around him. He pulled back again, increasing his speed when he trusted back in. On the third stroke, her body erupted with all the pent-up tension from the vibrator.

Gripping the sheets as though her life depended on it, she came all over him with a cry. 

“Sorry,” she mumbled when she regained coherence. “I finished too fast.”

“Don't apologize,” he assured her, kissing the curve of her shoulder. “Making you cum like that is a privilege, Rookie.”

Damn. 

He could be so sexy without even trying. It really wasn't fair. Throbbing for him yet again, Lilac kissed him. 

“I want you to cum, mi amor,” she whimpered against his mouth. “Inside me.”

Ethan moaned roughly, sending tremors down her body. 

“Lilac,” he murmured with the conviction of a man kissing his last bit of sanity goodbye. 

“I want you to fill me,” she pressed. 

It was all it took. Wordlessly, Ethan had her on all fours soon enough. The satin-covered pillow could barely contain her cries as he thrust into her with increasing speed. When he was close, he tugged on her hair, prompting her to straighten against his chest. 

“Moan my name.”

The words were a rough whisper against her ear. 

“Ethan.” 

“Louder.”

She obeyed, his name a desperate little scream as he went faster.

“Good girl.”

He was deliriously deep now, hitting just the right spot. 

“That's it. Give me one more, darling.”

Lilac came, her body trembling with the force of a third orgasm. Ethan's release followed soon after, settling deep inside her. When they rode off the climax, Ethan held her, ensuring she was alright. 

“My legs won’t stop shaking,” she informed him.

Concern began to pinch his expression, but Lilac laughed, pressing a sleepy kiss on his cheek. 

“That’s a good thing.”

They settled between the sheets, her body nestled against his. In the purple glow of the evening spilling through their window, Ethan allowed a relieved chuckle. 

“I love you,” she told him, eyes fluttering closed. 

“I love you, Lilac.”

Note: Thank you for reading!

My next fic will hopefully be another submission for this event, still naughty! Wish me luck!

[choicesficwriterscreations]

CFWC NAUGHTY & NICE PROMPTS

EVENT DATES: OCTOBER 2 - OCTOBER 29

SEE RULES AND PRIZE INFORMATION HERE

[genevievemd]

Like the Leaves

Book: Open Heart Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Genevieve McClure), F!MC (Genevieve McClure) x M!OC (Ryan Ozwell) Word Count:  Rating: T Category: angsty fluff Trope(s): and they’re with someone else (sorta - in the past), and there’s a birthday

Summary: Gen discovers that not everything is like it used to be.

Warnings: language

A/N: For the longest time, I’ve wanted to do a fic where we see G with Ryan and then with Ethan in a similar situation and see the difference and now here we are. I felt like today, Gen’s birthday, was a great day to do it lol 

Submitting this to @choicesficwriterscreations for Naughty and Nice (prompt in bold) and @choicesmonthlychallenge​ for Picktober (flufftober - forehead kisses and falltober - pumpkin) 

October 14, 2011

Autumn had finally descended on Pennsylvania. The trees on Genevieve’s college campus had slowly begun to change into various, and beautiful, shades of red and orange. Though, the beauty of fall at UPenn was nothing compared to her hometown in Maine. 

She’s been hoping to be able to go home for a long weekend for her birthday tomorrow, but with the workload of her second year of undergrad, it would be impossible. But maybe, she could bring a taste of home to Philly for her 19th birthday and convince her boyfriend of almost a year to go apple picking with her. They could even get pumpkins to carve and have the full seasonal experience, with the man she was almost certain she loved. 

Genevieve walks across the courtyard towards Ryan’s apartment, textbooks and outfit change in hand, knocking on his front door a few minutes later. 

“You’re late.” He opens the door without hesitation, walking away without another glance in her direction. 

Gen quickly follows him into the apartment, dropping her things onto the kitchen table. “I know, sorry. My class ran over. Well, technically it didn’t, I just stayed behind to ask my professor about the —“ 

“Yeah, I don’t really care, Velvet. Go make yourself decent for the party.” 

“I told you, I don’t like that nickname.” 

“And I told you, that I don’t care, I’ll call you whatever the hell I please.” Ryan smirks, kissing her cheek before slapping her backside, with more force than she likes. “Now, go get ready. Don’t make me ask again.” 

“Okay.” She nods sheepishly, walking into the bedroom to change. 

She hates going to parties with his friends, they were crass and always drank too much. Treating her more like a maid or waitress rather than Ryan’s girlfriend. She sucks it up and goes, mostly to avoid a fight with him and always with the hope that he’ll do something like that for her. Though record shows he probably won’t. But that won’t stop her from hoping, praying and doing whatever she can to try and get what she gives in return. 

“So, you know how my birthday is on tomorrow?” Gen calls out as she finishes putting on her dress, zipping up the side and checking herself in the mirror. 

“What about it?” 

“I was wondering if you’d go apple picking with me? Or maybe we can get pumpkins to carve? I used to at home every year and since I can’t go back to Portland this weekend, I thought —“ 

“Are you serious?” Ryan enters the room, eyebrow raised in disbelief as he leans against the doorframe. “Are you five?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Grow up, Velvet. That shit’s not cute, or fun for a grown ass adult. I’ll take you to dinner if I don’t have plans, but there ain’t no way in hell that I’m taking you to and wasting my Saturday at a fucking apple orchard.”

“Oh,” She does her best to hide the disappointment on her face as she finishes doing her makeup. The way her stomach twists at his words. “Is it really that childish? I see couples that do it for dates on pictagram all the time. I just thought…”

“Pictagram isn’t the real world. Gotta step outta that fantasyland you keep getting stuck in. Grown men, with any ounce of self respect, don’t do that shit. Now, get your ass ready so you don’t make us late like always.” 

“Forget I said anything.” 

Ryan laughs, turning towards the living room, “I wouldn’t have to if you keep those stupid thoughts to yourself, honey.” 

“Yeah.” Gen looks back at her reflection, wondering the thousandth time why she ever bothers to speak or think. 

Things are always better when she doesn’t, and it’s not as if she ever comes up with anything worthwhile — at least that’s what Ryan says and he's usually right. 

9 years later, October 15, 2020…

Ethan opens the door to his luxury apartment, stepping to the side to let Genevieve in before following close behind her. 

As far as birthdays go, this one has been a top favorite. Ethan surprised her with dinner at a diner that served poutine that could rival her beloved grandfather’s recipe and then an escape room with a Hocus Pocus theme. Not to mention the bouquet of her favorite flowers that he’d given her before they left the hospital. 

It was more than any boyfriend had done for her birthday in a very long time, and made her all the more thankful to have someone as thoughtful as Ethan. 

“Do you want a drink? I may have gone against my better judgement and bought you a bottle of rosé.” Ethan guides her into the kitchen, a gentle hand resting on the small of her back. 

“Did you really?” Gen sits at the kitchen island, watching as Ethan moves towards the fridge. 

“Of course. Anything for you, G.” He smiles wide, closing the refrigerator door and moving to the liquor cabinet to grab them two wine glasses. 

“Is that why you agreed to dress up as the Prince Charming to Cinderella for my party on Saturday?” 

“Absolutely.” He hands her the wine glass, his playful smile melting into something softer as he raises his own glass. “Happy birthday, sweetheart.” 

“Thank you.” Gen clinks her glass against his before taking a sip, blushing slightly when he doesn't take his eyes off her. 

“So, aside from this costume party, is there anything else you want to do this weekend?” Ethan grabs her hand, gently leading her to the couch. 

Its then she remembers a conversation from years past, with another man – whom she thought she loved – about her birthday. The way he dismissed her and teased her. Demeaned her every thought and desire and couldn’t be bothered to even take her to dinner on a day she so adored. 

It was a wonder how she’d gone from that to this. To someone as kind and thoughtful as Ethan, who even knowing her past treats her like a precious jewel, a gift. Someone who indulges every thought she has, no matter how childish or silly it may seem. 

“G? What is it?” Ethan’s brows furrow at her silence, head titled with concern. He places his wine glass on the coffee table then reaches for her hand, thumb stroking it gently. 

“I… I was just thinking.” 

“About?” 

Three months had past since she told him about Ryan, since she sobbed on this very couch feeling unworthy and tainted, and she still hesitates. Is still scared that with every detail she shares, Ethan may grow to regret his decision to stay. 

But, she knows she has to lean into the trust she’s placed in him, the unspoken love they share and continue to be honest about herself. 

“My birthday, nine years ago.” Gen swallows down the rock of anxiety that begins to form in her throat, shifting to place her glass beside his on the table. 

“That would have been when you were with that bastard, Ryan Ozwell, correct?” 

“Yeah.” Unconsciously, she moves closer to Ethan, looking down at their still joined hands. “I had asked him to do something with me, for my birthday because I couldn’t go back home, and he told me it was stupid. And maybe it is, but I still want to do it.” 

“And what’s that exactly?” There’s a patience in his voice, so rare that it forces her eyes up to meet his own. 

He’s so different with her than he is with the rest of the world, as if leading with his heart makes him softer, kinder. Offering a version of himself that only the most deserving of souls gets to see. 

“He was right, it’s stupid and childish. You’ll probably laugh at me too.” 

“Never.” Ethan offers her a smile, letting go of her hand. He pulls her into his lap, letting her settle before gently cupping her cheeks in his warms hands. “I won’t let anyone hurt you, myself included, you’re safe with me. Whatever it is just tell me, I highly doubt that it’s as juvenile as he had claimed it to be.”

“Okay,” Genevieve nods, resting a hand against his heart. “I want to go apple picking, and then get pumpkins and carve them.” 

“That,” He blinks rapidly, letting go of her face. “That’s what you want? That’s what he said was childish?” 

“Yeah. You agree, don’t you?” 

“Rookie, the day I agree with anything that man has ever said or done to you is the day the world ends. He has the cognitive abilities of a rock.” 

“So, you’ll do it? We can have an apple orchard date?” 

“Of course, I haven’t gone since I was a kid, I think it will be fun. Actually, I’ll even add to your desires and when we get home after we can turn the apples into a pie, roast the pumpkin seeds and watch our favorite Halloween movies.” 

“Ethan…” Despite herself, she can feel her chest warm with hope, the tiny ember getting larger with every word said. Feel her eyes well with tears of joy and surprise. 

Everyday, he proves all her worst fears wrong, shows her that every thought her ex had placed in her head was wrong. That, just like the leaves of Ethan’s favorite season, things change and become even more beautiful than they were before. 

He was turning her once dull and grey world into a kaleidoscope of bright reds and sunny yellows, and hopefully she’s doing the same for him. 

“Thank you.” Her words are no more than a whisper, too overwhelmed to utter them any louder than that. 

Ethan pulls her impossibly closer, arms wrapped tightly around her small frame, kissing her forehead gingerly before his own against it. “Always, G.”

A/N: And then they go the day after her party and have the best time. Look at our girl, having all her dreams come true. You love to see it. 

tagging separately 

[reveluving]

the highlight of his day

summary: Maintaining academic excellence may be Beckett’s top priority, but he'll always make time for the person who matters most to him.

pairing: beckett harrington x f!mc (written as ‘you’, no name usage) 

warnings: fluff, NSFW due to brief mentions of explicit sexual content, so minors DNI!, post-canon/Junior year

a/n: after my recent post, I thought this was the best way to channel my sadness! this is written in a reader insert-style, so it can be you or your OC as the MC we know! I just want y’all to join this Harrington love fest with me lol and don’t forget to leave some sugar! ᐠ( ᐛ )ᐟ

» fancy reading another choices fic? check out my m.list!

disclaimer! this is a submission for:

‘CFWC Naughty & Nice’ by @choicesficwriterscreations​ with the prompts (Nice); "My favorite part of the day is seeing your face." & Coffee Shop.

‘Picktober: Choices October Challenge’ by @choicesmonthlychallenge​ using the prompts (Flufftober); Blushing & Promises.

'"I'll make it up to you." He whispered, his lips hovering over yours. There was so much devotion in his words and while you were flattered by his reassurance, you wanted to take your chance to do the same.' ;

“So, there are mermaids down here?” Much like the rest of the group, one of them was in awe at the fact that one; the chances of seeing merfolks around are low but never zero and two; the view overlooking the crystal-clear lake. The sunlight filtering in and reflecting from the bridge produced a scenic glow, much like the effects of the Golden Hour potion was tasked with just two years ago. 

He held onto that memory so dearly, and it wasn't only because of the extra credit he earned. 

No, it was the company and the moment itself.

Beckett shook his head as soon as he felt his face getting warmer at the thought. Instead, he refocused on the group of freshmen he was chaperoning. The way they marveled at the picturesque scenery and pointed at the striking corals below them had him puffing up with pride. They were also hoping to spot a shimmery fin swimming by. But he had to admit, even after years of being in Penderghast, the view was like no other. It gave passersby a brief sense of calm as they go about their day. 

So far, the tour was going pretty well; from his first-ever warning of the school’s statue and its constant lookout for Atuneless intruders to the school's high-end gallery that could give famous museums worldwide a run for their money. He wanted the tour to be exciting just as it was informative. 

“Yes, though even sightings of them remain rare. Not even the ones who have been here their entire academic years were lucky enough to see them, given the merpeople’s suspicion of mankind’s reputation for exploitation and the like.” Beckett responded with ease. 

“Have you seen a mermaid, Mr Harrington?” He expected the question but definitely not the title he was given, though he tried not to show his surprise over it. He thought about the question for a moment, their curiosity piquing as seconds passed. He fought a smile, recalling the day Pend Pal hung out by the lake when they were blessed with the rare opportunity. 

“I have. Just a glimpse of its tail but a one-of-a-kind experience nonetheless.” He didn’t bother mentioning the time they were lucky enough to visit Lake Tempetua thanks to Zeph and his bucket list. He may love the limelight for his achievements but he’d rather save himself the time. This was about Penderghast, after all, "So, there may be a chance that one of you might see, too. And please, don't call me Mr Harrington. I can assure you that my 20th Birthday is only months away." They all chuckled. 

If it wasn’t for Pend Pals, he would’ve never realized that his dry or witty humour, as some would put it, was what made Beckett… well, Beckett.

“Shall we proceed?” The tour continued with them crossing the bridge, their chatters growing louder when they soon realized they were heading to the stadium. But rather than being in awe of the sport or even the stadium itself, some had other priorities.

“I heard one of their Earth-Att's really really hot.” Beckett couldn't drown out the remark, unfortunately. Not especially when they shrilled in excitement right after. Still, he had seen this coming the second he thought of bringing them to the stadium. 

Tuneless or not, jocks would always be the it-subject to swoon after, it seemed. And by the same clique who didn't understand personal space. His personal space, no less. They stopped trying eventually, seeing how showed zero to no reaction to their attempts or were silenced by his well-known glare, but that didn't mean they'd stopped giving him the eye from time to time. 

At least the stadium truly exceeded the entire group’s expectations, with their oohs and ahhs and Beckett’s new favourite ‘it’s even bigger than the one in Gildegraive!’. He had a hunch that the tour was going to derail from its purpose for a while, and frankly, he didn’t mind because he, too, had his own motives for coming here. With the underclassmen more focused on the arena's interior, Beckett took his chance. Though, it didn't take long for his sharp eyes to find the one person he's been dying to see for months now. 

The Sun-Att. 

His Sun-Att.

In the middle of the arena, there you stood, next to Zeph as he animatedly talked over the players standing before him. Most likely about their progress or even new tactics for future matches. Griffin, too, chipping in whenever necessary or if Zeph had missed something along the way. Beckett knew he had no chance of turning back, seeing how he naturally was able to spot you right away and honestly, he didn’t mind it one bit. 

Beckett and the group were only a few steps away from the team when you, Zeph and Griffin gave your final words and called it a day. Considering how Zeph and Griffin had blocked you from noticing the newcomers, you were about to walk with those who dispersed in the other direction when Zeph pulled you back to his side by your shoulders.

“Look who’s here,” He grinned, “Seems like B-Boy couldn’t wait to see you any longer, and he brought company. Loads of them.”

You blinked, preparing to ask what he had meant when you finally noticed the new set of company. You were really ever able to scan through their faces before beaming at the sight of the tour guide himself. You approached the group with a bounce in your step, with Griffin and Zeph following closely.

“Beckett!” Just having you in front of him had easily become the highlight of his day. No amount of calls, phone or video-wise could ever top being in your presence in itself. No matter how many times he’s glared at his sister for teasing him of missing you whenever he was seen zoning out during their family vacation, they both knew she was right. Hell, even their parents had caught wind of it.

“So, a Sun-Att, I hear?” Beckett choked on his soup, widening his eyes at his mother’s question. His parents were clearly delighted, and he didn’t know whether it was a good thing or a bad thing. Probably both, because they were already joining the teasing train with Katrina from then on. 

Still, he meant what he said about bringing you with him to his travels one day, though he has yet to bring up meeting his family. Not yet, at least. For now, he was going to make up for lost time. None of you had the time to see each other since your return just days ago, with him being appointed by Professor Englund with the new students and you helping your team out with early preparations.

“I see you’ve made some new friends,” You peered over his shoulder, waving back at them as they finally realised who you were. If the way he greeted you with your name in a much softer tone didn’t give it away, then the symbol on your jersey definitely did, “It’s not every day we see the Beckett Harrington coming here willingly, other than to watch us win the championships.”

He playfully rolled his eyes.

“So, to what do we owe the pleasure?” 

“Well, I was just telling the freshmen about Penderghast’s continuous success in the leagues.”

“Yup, five times in a row, and hopefully it doesn’t end there!” Unbeknownst to Griffin, his toothy grin not only had ‘the clique’ squealing amongst themselves, but even the boys were extremely pumped just by the thought of being in the team. You've made room for Zeph to join, or rather, take your place in the conversation. While you love the game with your heart and soul, you knew Griffin and Zeph were better at marketing it. 

Hey, they were the ones who convinced you into joining the team, after all!

Soon, you were shoulder-to-shoulder with Beckett, minus the height difference, speaking to one another without looking away from the associating parties. 

“I meant what I said,” He raised his eyebrows questioningly, glancing at you from the corner of his eye, “Seeing you here. I know we haven’t had the time, even though we’re both in the same building.”

“Hey, none of that.” He stopped you, “I should’ve at least stopped by your room as soon as I got here, but Professor Englund came to me the last minute and I—”

“Beckett,” You placed your hand on his bicep, running it up and down as a way to comfort him, “How about we both take the blame? It’s not even our first day and I’d rather not spend the precious time I have with my boyfriend talking about whose fault it is.”

He chuckled, crunching the turf under his shoes idly.

“Fine, fine. We can save the headache for topics like Shreya’s endless plans with Serene and Sublime.”

“Or Professor Englund’s class, in a nutshell.” You both shared a laugh, forgetting your surroundings momentarily when you caught a new student pointing at something up top to his friend. You looked up in wonder, only to realise that they were so entranced by your familiar. Butterball had been gliding near the roof’s opening, where he basked in the sun since the end of practice rather than returning to the ether. 

Might as well make new friends, right?

“Butterball, come here, boy!” You raised your hand, wiggling your fingers at the lumian in an effort to grab his attention. The majestic serpentine stopped dead in his tracks, perking up when he realized it was you calling his name. His trill was loud enough to echo throughout the arena before diving headfirst towards your group. You’ve briefly forgotten that matured familiars weren’t common around campus, let alone a mega-evolved one like Butterball until the freshmen reacted apprehensively at his actual size and lightning speed. Some gasped while others tried to hide behind one another, though none of them fled, seeing how even Beckett wasn't moving.

As expected, Butterball had targeted Beckett, circling him from the bottom up before stopping right in front of him. Half of them staggered and swayed, unexpecting the gust of wind from his rapid moves.

“Hello to you too.” Beckett chuckled, returning his greeting with a couple of pets on the head. The coos released by your companion had brought the cautious students at ease, approaching him with less skepticism, "Everyone, meet Butterball. Her familiar.” He introduced the creature to them before motioning to you.

Butterball's feathers shook in excitement, nudging his head into the closest set of hands for pets. His cat-like behaviour instantly won their hearts, with some wanting to get a turn at giving him head scratches while the rest returned to Zeph and Griffin, eager to know more about the upcoming tryouts. 

"Do you mind if I borrow you for a sec?" Beckett raised his brows, more so intrigued than suspicious before calling out to them to take five. With their attention elsewhere, you slipped your hand into his, fingers intertwining before dragging him to the side of the bleachers. The spot wasn't far from the students' peripheral vision but enough for some sort of privacy. 

He opened his mouth in hopes of asking if everything was alright when you crashed your lips against his. You heard his breath hitched but he returned the gesture just as quick, only for you to break the kiss before he could even deepen it.

Your forwardness was not expected, as evidenced by his wide eyes. But with this newfound spot, he thought 'fuck it'. Remaining professional may be his top priority but he only had so much self-control. He caught you by surprise when he took a hold of your hands, pulling you in for a longer, much more passionate kiss. Your hands rested on his chest, feeling up the familiar material of his blazer while his very own held onto your hips. The second you felt his tongue prodding your bottom lip, your caresses turned to grips, slightly creasing his lapel in the process.

Upon hearing your little whines, he pulled away, resting his forehead against yours. Even with what was happening just a few feet away from you, the feeling of being in his arms after so long was too good to ignore. 

"What time will your practice end?" His eyes remained closed, fearing that he'd lose you just by opening them. 

"Uh… Around five, I think. Why?" 

"I'll make it up to you." He whispered, his lips hovering over yours. There was so much devotion in his words and while you were flattered by his reassurance, you wanted to take your chance to do the same.

"Beckett, my favorite part of the day is seeing your face. The second I saw you here, I immediately forgot how tired I was!" Your hands slipped upwards, wrapping your arms around his neck to be closer to him than you thought possible, "Just having you by my side is already a treat in itself, no matter where we are or what we do."  

That’s what he love about you, amongst other reason, that is. How easy you were able to decipher your feelings into words and how he hopes to do the same for you. He may have his difficulties every once in a while but as a Harrington, you knew he wasn't going to back down from a challenge, and that is what you love about him.

"Then I'll make sure we'll make the most of it," He promised, "I'll stop by your room at six, get dressed by then." 

"Oh, bossy, aren't you?" You teased him, only to gape at his defense.

"And not once have I heard you complain about it," He leaned in, whispering in your ear, "Not especially when we're in bed," It was your turn to look away, knowing he had a smirk on his face when you failed to respond, "So obedient whenever I tell you to take your clothes off, having an absolute beauty lay underneath me." 

"Beckett…" You gulped, always taken aback by this side of him.

"You have my word." The meaningful smile on his face was hard to resist, and just as you savoured the moment, Zeph's voice rang out.

"Hey, lovebirds! Sorry to interrupt but the captain's gonna need his star player ASAP!" You and Beckett looked at each other before sharing a laugh, your face growing hot whereas Beckett was no different, clearing his throat as if it was going to help with the way he blushed.

"After you." Ever the gentleman. You thanked him with a playful curtsy and headed back to the group, your boyfriend tagging along seconds after. The knowing looks on Griffin and Zeph's faces accompanied by the giggles and oohs of the freshmen had you wishing you could use your Super Speed spell and get the heck out of there. 

"Right, I hope you all learned a lot about Thief and had fun with Butterball but we should really continue," Beckett stroked the lumian's cheek, only to call your name, "Do you mind if we visit the Sun-Att Room before we conclude our tour? Just so they know what it looks like on the inside." 

He's definitely not trying to show you off.

"Be my guest! I'll let Atlas and Dean Swan know about it, just in case," You showed him an 'okay' sign before waving with Griffin and Zeph as the group departed, "Welcome to Penderghast, by the way!" 

"So… Mind telling me where we're going?" It’s been hours since the tour and just ten minutes since Beckett’s arrival at your doorstep. You were just about ready when he knocked on your door, opening it to find Beckett offering you a single Dreamshade flower. 

The number of times this man has made you feel fuzzy should not be healthy at this point. 

"Why spoil the surprise when I can just bring you there?" He turned the knob that led to Penn Square, filling you with anticipation as to what he had in mind. Walking hand in hand, you took in your surroundings; from Aster’s shop to the local bookstore, plus the familiar faces you’ve passed by. As the turn you both took became apparent, you turned to him in excitement. 

“Are we going where I think we’re going?” As if the universe heard you, you and Beckett coincidentally reached your destination; Cafe Sirene. The very coffee shop that held both your favorite treats and valuable memories. 

“Surprised?” 

“Not at all,” He held the door open for you, joining you to greet the staff behind the counter. Both of you ordered the usual; a slice of Raspberry Reverie and some hot chocolate before moving over to the window seat. 

“Have you stopped by the shop since we last saw each other?” He asked you before taking a sip of his drink.

“I did once! Atlas and I were craving something sweet and we just bought tons to try at home,” Hearing you talk about your time with your family was always thrilling. The sparkle in your eyes as you recalled them one by one. Stroganoff Sundays with Atlas and your mother, movie nights with foster parents, lazy days with Butterball and Navi. It was the least you deserve, considering the hardships you had gone through since your first year, “But y’know, it doesn’t beat coming here with you.”

He rubbed the back of his neck upon hearing your confession.

“But what about you? Anything interesting happened while you were in France?”

“Well, if you think visiting over five art galleries within two days is interesting, then sure,” He shrugged nonchalantly, only to hide his smile behind the cup, “But, personally, I’d say your beauty is just as mesmerizing as the art I’ve seen there.”

None of you had the time to react when you heard a chorus of squeals and giggles coming from the kitchen. Both of you turned to the source of the sound, only to find a handful of the staff, including the chef, eavesdropping behind the door. Seeing your eyes on them, they retreated, with one of them even let out a small, high-pitched scream. You hid your face, only to peek through your fingers and see Beckett covering his mouth, sharing your embarrassment. He looked anything but annoyed though, and with his free hand, he interlaced his fingers with yours.

“Let’s just eat, shall we?” You nodded, and the shyness you both had slowly disappeared. Your conversation went on smoothly as you fed each other the cake, all while watching the sunset and returning to your dorm with big smiles and high hopes for the future together.

˚ · . f i n . · ˚

» gorgeous rose divider by the amazing @firefly-graphics ♡

[jerzwriter]

Tricky Treats

Book: Open Heart, Book 1 Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Kaycee MacClennan) Rating: Teen Category: Fluff/ Halloween Summary: Kaycee laments forgoing her Halloween plans when a lucrative opportunity arrives, but the evening turns out better than expected. Words: 1500 A/N: This was for a Halloween Ask I received where Person A is hearing scary noises while being home alone and calls Person B to help them “survive in this haunted house.” I changed it up just a little to make it fit for Ethan & Kaycee during the intern year. I'm not sure I did it justice, but I hope you enjoy it. I didn't have time to edit, so please be forgiving! :) A/N 2: Participating in @choicesmonthlychallenge - Spooktober - Haunted / @choicesficwriterscreations Naughty & Nice Event (Nice Prompt highlighted below) / @choicesflashfics - "I have a perfectly reasonable explanation for this"

“Come on, come on!” Kaycee anxiously dialed another number; desperation was setting in. “Please answer, please!” Voicemail…again. “Damn it!”

As the storm outside continued to rage, a deafening thunderclap left her trembling in a corner. Sitting in an unfamiliar home, with a blanket pulled up to her nose as if it were a protective shield, was not how she had envisioned spending her first Halloween in Boston. Her friends were scattered about the city living their best lives and having far too much fun to answer her calls. She was lamenting her decision to house-sit for Dr. Laverty. But when the elderly doctor said the gig paid five hundred dollars, it was music to the struggling intern's ears. She’d have to miss some parties on occasion, she reasoned. It was the adult thing to do! But as she frantically searched her phone, thinking of anyone who might join her. She felt like anything but an adult.    

Her last hope was Elijah. He was working a late shift and hadn’t headed to a party yet. Maybe she could convince him to join her instead of heading to Donahue’s for fun and revelry. The old wooden floorboards mysteriously creaked again as a lightning bolt filled the room with an eerie purple light. She nervously hit his name on her contact list… convince nothing. She would gladly give him the entire five hundred dollars Laverty was paying her if he’d just come over… bribery was officially on the table. As the phone rang, another thunderclap struck, and a harrowing screech came from the alley below.

Kaycee dropped her phone to the floor as she jumped from the chair where she had sought refuge. She rushed to the window to see what had caused the horrible noise, forgetting about her call to Elijah. She peered out the window to see a stray cat scurrying away and caught her breath.

“OK, OK. Kaycee, calm down. You’re going to be OK. It’s just a storm, and you’re just in a creepy old townhome that hasn’t had guests since 1972. There is nothing to be frightened of. You’re just…. AAAGGGHH!!!”

The wind howled, a door slammed, and Kaycee let out a little scream before bursting into tears. She just wanted to be home, where she felt safe. The discarded phone on the floor began to ring.

“FINALLY!” she sighed; someone would come to her rescue.

Ethan.

Not who she expected. Her mind instantly went to Naveen. They had left his bedside together hours before, and she was sure something had gone wrong. Filled with concern, she forgot about her spooky surroundings and answered the call without giving it a second thought. But a tremble remained in her voice.

“Hey, Dr. Ramsey. Is everything OK?”

“That’s what I am calling to ask you. What’s going on?”

“What… what do you mean?”

“You called me, and the next thing I know, I heard a slam, crying, and you were gone… are you all right?”

Could he define all right? Because accidentally calling Ethan, of all people, and making an idiot out of herself didn’t feel all right at all.

“Yeah,” she lied. “I Uhm. I’m sorry, I meant to call Elijah, and Ethan Ramsey is next to Elijah on my phone, so….”

“So why did you drop the phone? And why are you crying? Are you sure you’re….”

The wind picked up again, and the old windows began to creak. A moment later, the sound of breaking glass echoed through the cavernous home, and the power went out with a loud thud.   

“Kaycee…are you there?” Ethan panicked.

“Yeah,” she quivered, her nerves all but shot. “But I don’t know for how much longer. Because I don’t think I will survive in this haunted house!”

“Haunted… where are you?”

“I’m at Dr. Laverty’s.”

“Doctor… doc… what the hell are you doing at Dr. Laverty’s?”

“I’m house-sitting. But that’s irrelevant right now!”

Ethan ran a hand down the front of his face. “Send me your location.”

“What?”

“You know how to use an iPhone, Rookie! Send me your location.”

“Ethan, do you think it’s smart to….”

“Just do it!”

Kaycee waited in a small room off the main entrance. Every horror movie she ever told herself she shouldn’t have watched played over in her mind. While Ethan insisted on staying on the phone with her until he arrived, nothing gave her comfort until he said, “I’m at the front door.”

By the time he arrived, the storm had passed, and while the house was still dark, things had calmed substantially. Feeling foolish, Kaycee meekly opened the door.  

“Hi…” she muttered, eagerly taking a flashlight from Ethan’s hand. “I have a perfectly reasonable explanation for this.”

“For what?”

“For making you come here… see, my roommates were watching scary movies last night, and I let my inner twelve-year-old take over. I’m really sorry.”

“Relax, Rookie. You didn’t make me do anything, and I wanted to make sure you were all right. Are you?”

“Sure, I’m a twenty-seven-year-old woman who just made her boss come out on a stormy Halloween night because she’s too much of a fraidy cat to stay in a strange home by herself. Everything is fine… except my ego.”

“Nonsense!” He insisted. “Where did the breaking glass sound come from?”

“From the hallway, I’m sure it was nothing. I should have….”

“You should have done exactly what you did. Reaching out to have someone here under the circumstances makes perfect sense. Now, let’s go have a look.”

The power flickered back on as they made their way down the hall, and Kaycee let out a sigh of relief.

They located the broken glass, no more than an old window pane that couldn’t stand up to the strong winds. After locating supplies in the basement, they cleaned up and boarded the window. They fell into a comfortable conversation, but Kaycee couldn’t shake feeling foolish. Relieved for a moment alone when Ethan went to the bathroom, she retreated to the same couch where she had been so frightened before. When Ethan returned, he joined her there.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I took the liberty of ordering from Dumpling Palace. It should be here soon.”

“You ordered takeout from my favorite restaurant?”

“Well, you’ve had a bad day,” he smiled. “Work was difficult, and you stayed much longer than you should have to help with Naveen, and then you were rewarded with this fiasco. It’s the least you deserve.”

“Thank you. I’m really sorry I dragged you out. I hope I didn’t interrupt any plans.”

Ethan snorted quietly when he thought of where he was when he received her call. A mutual friend had set them up some time ago, but Cynthia lived in Chicago, and the commute to Boston did not make their match a convenient one. Still, if either was visiting the other’s town, they’d make plans, and one of those times was tonight. 

“Is everything OK,” Cynthia asked after Ethan excused himself to take a call.

“Unfortunately, not…”

“No, I wasn’t doing a thing,” he smiled. “I’m just glad I could help.”

He’d never admit it, but he was grateful that his number was next to Dr. Greene’s.

Kaycee smiled softly. She had been learning there was another side to Ethan Ramsey. He was more than a grumpy doctor who instilled fear in the halls of Edenbrook.  But as time went on, he surprised her more and more. She wouldn’t admit it, but she had never been more grateful for dialing the wrong number.

“I don’t like the idea of you staying here alone with a window broken on the first floor,” he continued. “Why don’t I stay on the couch? Then hopefully, you can get some sleep in the bedroom down the hall.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“I know, but I’d feel better if I did. Plus, we could head to work together and check on Naveen before our shifts start.”

“We could do that.”

“Just one thing,” he insisted. “We do not tell him about this.”

“And why is that, Dr. Ramsey,” she teased. “Embarrassed to be spending the night with your intern?”

“That’s exactly the rumor we don’t need spreading throughout Edenbrook.”

“Yeah, we wouldn’t want that,” she simpered. “I have a reputation to uphold, after all.”

“Are you done?”

“Nope. Admit it,” she smiled. “You were worried about me.”

“Of course. You’re the most promising intern in our program, plus you’re an invaluable support with Naveen, I….”

“… and you were worried about me because I’m not just an intern, am I?”

Ethan was stumbling to find his words when the doorbell rang.

“That’s the food,” he announced as he jumped from his seat. Saved by the bell. “I’ll go get it.”

“And I’ll clear the table.”

“I thought we could eat in here,” he interrupted. “Picnic style? We could watch a movie before heading to sleep.”

“We could do that,” she smiled as he disappeared down the hall. 

In the years that followed, they’d never forget their first Halloween, when the universe conspired and gave them such tricky treats.

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[a-crepusculo]

Dream (Ethan x MC)

Book: Open Heart Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x Dr. Marchia Ramsey (F!MC) Premise: No matter what time it is, they’ll always find their way to love each other. Rating / Category: General / Fluff Warning(s): None Word Count: 712 words

A/N: No plot, just fluff. Seriously. No plot whatsoever. You have been warned. Super special thanks to @mvalentine​ for sending this cute prompt! 🤍 You’re a gem, my dear. I’m also participating in @choicesficwriterscreations​​​ Naughty and Nice event (selected prompt will be in bold).

A blanket of stars covered the dark blue sky, playing a game of hide-and-seek with those who seek to spend their sleepless night in peace. Everything felt serene and quiet, away from all the mayhem that lurked in Boston. The twinkling, mischievous luminaries had invited their old friend to join them; a glowing sphere that clung on to the familiar darkness with absolute credence.

The pale crescent moon had spilled its silvery radiance on the marbled bedroom floor, helpfully guiding Marchia and ever-growing bump to their destination. At this point, it had become a tiresome routine, really, to wake up every fifteen to thirty minutes in the middle of the dark.

Not that she wants to do it every single time—God, no.

But her beautiful, humongous unborn child had kicked and pushed her poor bladder to its limits. The young diagnostician certainly knew better than to ignore the powerful urge to release that certain bodily fluid.

As if on autopilot, her restless body had forced her to get up, feet dragging to the nearest loo in the process. Her movements were instinctual, habitual—though utterly vexatious. Most days, Marchia enjoyed being pregnant. This exact moment, however, was not part of the things she relished as a pregnant lady.

After finishing her business in the bathroom, she slowly waddled to her favorite part of the house: their kitchen. Immediately after entering the beloved space, her dearest ginger tea was calling out her name, while the leftover oatmeal cookies Ethan made earlier today whispered sweet nothings to her ears. 

“Bingo,” she muttered to herself.

A little midnight snack might just be the perfect answer.

Chomping down on her last cookie, Marchia finally grabbed her piping hot tea and a glass of water, then toddled straight back to their bedroom. Once she had put down her drink, she tiptoed to her Ethan’s nightstand and placed his cup.

Hands absently rubbing her swollen belly, she took in the sight of her husband in absolute tranquility and silence of their abode. Tilting his heavy head to the side, he gifted her with the slightest hint of smile; a smile as warm as sunshine on a rainy day. Genuine, unadulterated bliss—etched on the very same face of a man who once claimed that love was nothing more than some neurochemical response.

The expectant mother lowered her head gently and whispered into the shell of his ear, “Dream a little dream of me, sayang.”

Before parting ways, she quickly gave a delicate and loving kiss on Ethan’s forehead. Her soft lips touched his warm temples, and for awhile, all is right with the world. Taking a deep breath, she closed her eyes and let her mind wander—counting down to the very minute she could do the same for their little angel.

Marchia walked back to her side of the bed, making sure that her husband was still sound asleep. She wiggled and outstretched her slender legs, then tucked herself inside the warm duvet. In a matter of seconds, she had snoozed to dreamland.

Little did she know that her little kiss had awoken her dashing husband.

In one swift move, Ethan turned to face her in their bed. His hand had easily found its path to her protruding abdomen, hidden under the thick cover. He carefully stroked her belly, lulling her further into a state of deep slumber.

Brilliant azure orbs looked at her such ease and love. Life was so incredibly kind—and one could even argue that life was too kind—to bless them with the biggest miracle in life. He felt a small pang in his chest as he realizes that this was his life now, his family.

And he would not trade this for anything else.

Snuggling closer to his wife, he reached out and gave featherlight kisses her on cheeks, her temples, her nose, and her lips. Unbridled happiness fill him as he watched her sleeping peacefully.

“I love you, Chia,” he murmured.

Then, he gave his final kiss to the wonderful new addition in their lives.

“And I love you too, little baby,” his soft voice fluttered around her large belly. “I won’t let anyone hurt you. You’re safe with me—with us, together.”

As his cheek pulled itself outwards, radiating his biggest smile ever, Ethan had known one thing’s for sure: he’s the luckiest man alive.

I’ll be tagging in a separate post!

[liaromancewriter]

His Girls

Premise: Ethan Ramsey never thought he’d have a family of his own, but fate had other plans.

Book: Open Heart (post series) Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Cassie Valentine) Rating/Category: Teen. Fluff. Words: 1,080

A/N: This fic was requested by @rookiemartin. Submission for @choicesmonthlychallenge Flufftober “Forehead kisses” and for @choicesficwriterscreations​ Naughty or Nice event, using the ‘nice’ prompt, “My favorite part of the day is seeing your face.”

The luxurious condo on Boston’s waterfront was eerily quiet, the only sound the hum of a refrigerator. The ordinarily pristine living room held remnants of a party, streamers, paper plates and plastic cups. The banner hanging across the fireplace mantel signaled it was Double Trouble.

The revelers had left an hour ago, reluctant to leave even as their host pushed them out the door. And now the apartment was tranquil. Its occupants sleeping off a busy and tiring day. All, that is, except one.

Ethan Ramsey stood at the floor-to-ceiling glass windows staring at the wintery blue waters, a forgotten cup of coffee between his hands.

His mind wasn’t on the outside view or the clean-up in his not-so-distant future. He was thinking about his life and how it was nothing like he’d imagined when he and Cassie Valentine tested an fMRI machine all those years ago.

Ethan remembered answering her rather pointed questions about his personal life with amusement. At times, he’d wanted to lie but knew she would catch him out on it in the scans. He’d prevaricated where he could, except when she asked about wanting kids.

“I’m not sure if that’s in the cards for me,” he’d admitted reluctantly. “I don’t think I’d be able to be there for them, at least not the way they would need.”

He’d taken his time to think about the response, the ghosts of his past taunting him. At the time, he had firmly believed he would never have a family of his own. And, if he was honest, he wasn’t sure he wanted one either, not if it meant the possibility of heartbreak.

Little did he know that fate had other plans for him. Now he had a wife and was a brand new father to twin girls that had finally come home today after an extended stay in the neonatal ICU.

It had taken him years to accept he could be a good husband, and then he had to adjust to the idea of fatherhood. Sophie and Eloise deserved the best, and he was determined to prove he could be there for them in the way they needed.

But that didn’t mean those damn ghosts didn’t surface now and then, especially when he was alone with his thoughts. It was just too bad he’d insisted that Cassie lie down and rest. She had a way of making him see clearly.

All day long, their home had been filled with people. His dad. Cassie’s parents. Their friends. Fussy babies who were not used to being outside the hospital and overwhelmed by noise. Now that it was quiet again, it felt like something was missing.

Just then, he heard an unfamiliar sound that cut through his thoughts; a thin wail that sounded like a kitten. It took him a minute to realize it was coming from one of the baby monitors that Cassie had placed around the apartment.

Ethan froze for a second, uncertain of what he was supposed to do. Should he wake up Cassie? But she needed to take it easy, her body sore and tiring quickly from the C-section. He hoped the twins would go back to sleep on their own.

That wish was not to be granted as a second cry joined in. Worried that the noise would wake Cassie, he rushed down the hallway to the master bedroom. They were keeping the girls with them for the first few weeks, with plans to eventually move them to the bright and airy nursery he and Cassie had decorated.

Swinging the door open slowly, he tentatively stepped inside. He ran one wary eye over the bed, sighing in relief when he noticed Cassie was asleep, practically buried under the covers.

A lamp cast the room in shadows, but there was enough light to guide his way to the wide co-sleeping bassinet set against the wall. Ethan gazed down at the twins, concerned now that he couldn’t hear the sound of crying. And then he exhaled when he realized the sisters were comforting each other.

Eyes closed, they lay on their backs under the light blanket, the top of their heads leaning into each other, a faint gurgling sound escaping their lips. Their hands were on top of the blanket, pinkies touching.

The pediatrician had told them it was common for twins to reach for each other. After all, they had shared space inside the womb for nine months. And he knew from personal experience that the close bond twins shared was for life.

They were too young to smile; he knew that. But he could’ve sworn that was a smile curving Eloise’s lips. Or was that Sophie? Some father he was that he couldn’t even tell his daughters apart.

When Sophie/Eloise kicked the blanket away, he quickly readjusted it over their legs. He marveled at the size difference between his arm and the girls’ bodies. His hand appeared massive against their tiny frames, his palm spanning their combined width.

They were his to protect, he thought, absently patting them. So tiny and so precious.

For now, they were helpless and depended on him for every little thing. Eventually, they would grow up and perhaps not need him as much. That was how it should be if he and Cassie raised them right. But until then, he couldn’t fuck this up.

Ethan silently chuckled when he felt both girls go still under his hand as if sensing his presence. For a brief moment, they watched him with an unfocused gaze. And then, just as quickly, their eyes drifted close, and they seemed to settle down.

Their tiny mouths puckered, almost smacking as if searching for food. Since the last feeding was only an hour ago, Ethan didn’t think they would be hungry so soon. However, given they were Cassie’s daughters, perhaps they’d inherited her love of eating.

When Eloise/Sophie waved her hand in the air, he caught it. Her small palm barely closed around his finger, the baby-soft skin pillowy against his rougher one. Overwhelmed with love, he leaned down and kissed one soft forehead and then another.

My favorite part of the day is seeing your face, Ethan thought, his laser blue eyes staying on his girls, watching them fade into sleep.

He would get used to this. It was unfamiliar territory, sure, but he could do this. He had Cassie, his father, Naveen, and their extended family. He was not alone. Not anymore.

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

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Ethan & Cassie only: @custaroonie​ @lady-calypso​

@openheartfanfics​

[inlocusmads]

The Case of the Cursed Captain

Nora and Trystan, while out in Brighton Beach, investigate a supernatural occurrence in the high seas and come face to face with an old enemy.

Featuring: Nora Rose, Trystan Thorne from Crimes of Passion

Word Count: 2.1k | No Warnings/Teen | References to Crimes, Book 1. Mild spoilers ahead!

A/N: Another case fic! Based on @choicesficwriterscreations's "Beach" prompt for their "Naughty or Nice" event. This prompt was too good and also because I had this nautical mystery idea in my head and put it to some *good* use. Is it good? Depends.

🎵 Listen to Decrypting as heard on The Imitation Game.

The Atlantic ocean had a rather cerulean tinge to it. “Cerulean” was one of the most prominent colours, commonly seen in a romantic context and according to dating-a-new-yorker dot com, blue won over pink roses, pink bouquets, pink dresses any day, around 60% of the time. Accompanied by such statistics, Trystan Thorne predicted a beach date would do them both some good. Drakovia, being a winter/storm haven three-sixty-five days in a row, had infamous beaches because they were, actually, wicked. The sea was often violent, its waves slamming into the nearby askew boulders, and it was no fun sitting in the storm's eye and sharing a picnic basket wasn’t the most romantic thing.

Granted, Drakovian culture hardly saw the difference between “romantic” and “beheadings”, so Trystan’s opinions on romantic dates might be a little skewed to say the least.

But fortunately, he didn’t have to mind that because Nora didn’t mind that. She’d been on the detective job for many years now, and it didn’t matter to her if the date involved murderous blacksmiths or light-haired women in pinstripe suits. She also didn’t mind running into fires, getting her hands sliced open and ending up with a bullet in her head, because her estimation of danger was also very skewed. 

“Two fisher-boats.” Nora drew two circles in the sand. “Them — around thirty kilometres away from each other in the evening; sometime around four. Boat A ended up drowning and used their torch to signal a SOS message. Boat B ended up further away, possibly because of the weather, but it was just in the afternoon!”

“Is he here somewhere?”

“Right there. Talking to --” Nora swallowed, as if she had accidentally tasted some nasty poison. “Officer Dave.”

“Dave. I hate Dave.”

“You haven’t even met him yet.”

“I hold grudges well and on the fly. That’s the scoundrel who sent us the Partners in Crime necklace, correct?”

“Him and his band of clowning, scheming scoundrels.”

Officer Dave of the NYPD was one of those detestable creatures who masqueraded as a humanitarian. He noticed the two and with a big broad smirk as he usually had, akin to a blobfish that approached its prey, drew near the pair; hands in pockets and his police badge flashing under the stark sunlight.

“Well, well — if it isn’t Holmes and Watson. Lady Holmes.” he kindly regarded. “The case’s out of our jurisdiction, detective. Especially out of your hands.” - he pointed a fat index finger at Nora. “So go home. Enjoy your date someplace else. Don’t bring the city into this and get into trouble like you — children often do.”

“We need to talk to Boat B’s Boatman. And might I so carefully remind you that, Officer, if it wasn’t for us, you’d still have a murderer about on the loose, recklessly killing women of power and a frankly, very dangerous cult operating in the shadows without your knowledge. And that’s shameful for a reputable “humanitarian” organisation, and I can’t imagine the embarrassment the Head Office faced.” Trystan took a step forth, without a care for anything. He didn’t even have his glasses and scarf on, which meant he was dangerous and a danger to everyone else on the road. Not to mention the reporters who’d have a field day, with headlines running amok: FORMER DRAKOVIAN PRINCE, TRYSTAN THORNE THREATENS NYPD OFFICER! IS THIS A CALL TO WAR? SHOULD HOMELAND SECURITY INTERVENE?

“All right.” Dave appraised. “Rose, if something goes wrong, I’m putting your John Watson on a boat and sending him home. Capeesh? And I believe you’re going to need luck.”

“Tell me what happened from the beginning.”

The boatman, Daniel, had a certain tremor in his left hand as he slowly began his story. 

“It was four in the afternoon. Not too bright, not too dark. One of those “dark and stormy” days..”

He peered at Trystan for a split second before turning back to the Detective, his expressions flaring up with a sense of recognition. Recognition of high strangeness, specifically, because never had it occurred to him that the man from the tabloids, often with a crown over his head, would work with a woman from a detective shop. Then again, he’d seen far worse things to comprehend everyday oddities like this one.

“Anyway--” he shook his head in disbelief. “Calypso was going through some rough patching-up, so I took her out for a little test run; near the coastline and not too deep in. Then, I see those — blinks.”

“Blinks?”

“I kept telling myself, don’t blink. Don’t ever blink because I’ll miss the signal otherwise. And I was trying to go over there, but then I saw the signals from elsewhere and then.. I turn. A ghost boat.”

“A ghost — boat?” Trystan asked.

“I’m new to the job, sir, but I know a bit of Morse code here and there, and I know when a boat calls for help. I didn’t know how to work the radio yet. The thing is — it was a ghost boat. I swear, it floated, and it was blinking. I knew more than enough to get out of there. There’s this legend going around. 4PM. October the 13th. That’s when Captain Dowd’s vessel sank. It’s been haunting Brighton Beach ever since. Captain Dowd was a cursed man because he killed people. He was out for blood and now — he’s killed The Ulysses fellow.”

“Boat A.” Nora confirmed.

“I had to get out of there! It’s a cursed place now!”

“Oh. So that’s what — erm — Dave meant by out of our hands.” Trystan deduced.

“I’m not lying! I’m not stupid!” Daniel yelled. “One of our brothers at sea sank! And it is thanks to Dowd’s curse! I’m fortunate to get out of there alive to tell the story! Nobody ever believes me! My wife, that wretched police officer and now you. Detective Rose- I’ve heard of your wonderful work. You have to help me out. Prove I didn’t purposefully ignore the call. Because you know what they do to new people on the job. They’ll look for nitty-gritty laws and throw us away. And I don’t have a job besides the sea. No fancy-schmancy college certificate. Nothing.”

Nora paced on the sand, shielding her eyes away from the morning sun. She recalled the repercussions Daniel would face. By law, a vessel on the high seas is required to answer to a distress signal and poor Daniel had already admitted to guilt by confirming, yes, Boat A sent out a SOS message as a series of torchlight blinks and Boat B was still within range to see the signal clearly on calm waters. It wouldn’t take long for a quick phone call to the meteorological department to check in with the weather and throw Daniel out of his job and take away his fishing licence. With everyone now in lieu of Daniel’s blames on a “sea legend”, it would be more than enough for everyone to prove he wasn’t of a “sound mind” or that, “he’d rather believe in a meaningless old wives’ tale and avoid the distress call.”

“Tell me about The Ulysses.”

“We were twins. Twin boats. Brother Larry and I went to the same guy.”

“It’s always the twins.” Nora sighed. “So — your boat was just repaired, wasn’t it?”

“There was a leak. The dock boys fixed it.”

“And the NYPD didn’t bother asking you exactly that?”

Daniel shrugged. “They said they ought to have a word with my Head Office first.”

“Doesn’t matter.” Nora said, a slow grin on her face. “I’ve solved the case.”

“There’s been a mix-up. Clearly.” Nora pointed at Daniel’s boat. “This boat is old. No leaks. Nothing. Old, but strong. Can stand the waves.” - she knocked on the floorboard and by Newton’s law, it knocked back. “Stuffed with a bit of grime here. And no signs of patchwork. It’s all an immaculate job. Dock boys are hardly ever like that. When did you get Calypso repaired?”

“Well- ah — it was just over two days ago. Before Brother Larry--”

“I need the time.”

“Sometime around at night?”

“Why at night?”

“I was busy in the street market with the produce. I spotted the leak as I was climbing to the shore and I had it in my head going, Get it repaired now! And then I couldn’t. I spent the day at the market and by night, rushed the boat to the dock workers and asked them to do a good job and paid them extra for their troubles.” 

“They would’ve used cheap wood.”

“But I haven’t had a problem with it!”

“Because--” Nora grabbed Daniel’s shoulders and steered his head to meet her eyes, as if they were having some sort of knight standoff battle. “This is Ulysses. Calypso’s the one that drowned.”

“No!”

“Yes! It is extremely plausible! Now, what happened yesterday?” She released him.

“For God’s sake! I told the same thing to that cop!” Daniel massaged his shoulders. “Got out of bed from my afternoon nap. Saw Brother Larry take his boat and I soon followed later.”

“Whose boat was it? Think!” Nora rubbed her palms together. “Even identical twins have discernible features that set them apart from each other. The answer — is right here. On the floorboards. Do you see? It is hard to get wood that matches the exact saturation of the rest of the floor. The crack was — somewhere here, wasn't it? Near that corner. Now, Daniel, tell me. Do you see any patchwork out there? Like a quilt, for instance.”

“No. I would know! I just thought they did that good of a job! But it — it can’t be--”

“It’s always like that.” Nora gave him a defeated pat on the shoulder. “And it is always twins, Daniel. Even the best anglers are deceived and that too, by their own vessel. I’m truly sorry about Calypso. You must’ve spent all that money on getting her fixed, and now she’s spending the rest of her life at the bottom of the ocean. Well — until the rescue team comes by, but that takes a couple of hours.”

“But what about that absurd Captain Dowd myth he was gushing on about?” Trystan quipped.

“A Fata Morgana. A mirage in the sea. You said you spotted another ship? Surprised they didn’t teach you. Fata Morgana is — well, uncommon, but plausible.”

 “Just like how a mirage in say, the Sahara Desert, for example, works, a Fata Morgana relies on cold and warm layers of air and what you see is just refracted light. Personally, I haven’t heard of them happening over the Atlantic Ocean, but when the weather is just right and there’s enough sunlight, things are afoot.” Trystan continued on. “How on earth did you know that?”

“The Master and the Commander led me down a rabbit hole full of seafaring adventures.”

Trystan gave her the slightest smile. He was immensely proud. But it was honestly a case of bad timing to admit that and celebrate their special “Eureka!” moment, not when Daniel was busy wallowing in his sorrows, clutching the boat’s sides until his knuckles turned pale and controlling his sobs. 

“We’ll report our findings to your Head Office. Here’s hoping they let you off with a warning. Until then, get some rest, my good fellow.” Trystan shook the boatman’s hand. “Fret not. Right, Detective?”

But Nora had already left, missioned to phone up Daniel’s boss and free him off of unnecessary charges for things he couldn’t control. 

“The Ulysses. Wonderful name.” he examined the boat. “You don’t paint your names on the hull?”

Daniel wasn’t listening. He turned to the sea, processing all the information as slowly and steadily as he could. It was a thing at this point. Nora would do her part and leave, but the people involved were left in shambles with the revelations she concluded to. It took them a minute to process, before taking several days to completely understand it. And Trystan had seen it all. Wives crying upon hearing their husbands’ cases of infidelity. Families processing the passing of a loved one. And each time it was woefully heartbreaking.

Trystan let out a brief exhale, watching Nora speak over the phone, and turned his attention back to a logo stamped along the edges of the boat with a subtitle underneath; possibly the only thing drawn and painted, besides the stark red-and-white hull. 

His eyes widened with a sense of forthcoming dread as he read the name again and again:

“You said you read about us. Where was it, Daniel?” Trystan asked. “Daniel?-- DANIEL! No!”

A Contribution By The Blake Hill Preservation Society.

Hail Mahra!

A/N: And that's it! Not addressing it any further!

Spoilers: If you're unfamiliar with "The Blake Hill Preservation Society", they're the well, "bad guys". If you have played Crimes, you'd know exactly what I'm talking about. If you haven't, go play now. This is an order from Cap'n Mads!

I'll promise to write more case-fics that don't reference Crimes Book 1 in the future, to avoid spoiling things for people.

This is how a Fata Morgana looks like.

My research for this project took a couple of days, but I still could be very wrong, so if you're a nautical expert or someone who's studied refraction in depth, please let me know if I've gotten anything wrong, so I can add/correct more details.

Tag List:

Please let me know if you'd like to be tagged for my works. Since I lost a majority of my works & my tag list in my "reboot", I have a hard time recalling things. You can always DM me, send an ask, reblog or comment or get the info to me any way you like. Currently there are 4 lists: Perma, Crimes of Passion only, Open Heart only & Wake the Dead only.

Perma: @ofmischiefandmedicine, @quixoticdreamer16 @tessa-liam

Crimes only: @aallotarenunelma @ao719 @trappedinfanfiction

[jamespotterthefirst]

Control (Ethan x MC)

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x F!MC (Dr. Lilac Allende) Word count: 1.1k Warning: Strong Language and NS*FW content. Please use discretion and caution when viewing this work. By viewing of this work, you consent that you are 18+

Premise: They try something new while at a concert. 

Author’s Note: For @choicesficwriterscreations Naughty and Nice event! The prompt is “concert”. 

Ethan silently thanked the skies for the glass of top shelf scotch in his hand as the stadium erupted with deafening cheers. The noise drilled into his skull, somehow penetrating the glass of their private suite. His companions matched the crowd's energy, cheering and hollering as bursts of blinding light exploded from the stage below.

“You hate it,” a familiar voice said over the noise as a pair of soft arms wrapped themselves around his torso.

“I'm fine,” he assured her, relaxing against her touch and allowing the notes of her floral perfume to lull him.

Lilac laughed, stepping around him so she could face him. Her cheeks shone bright pink with the night's euphoria, her eyes glittering like jewels. She looked downright bewitching, particularly when she smiled with that hint of coyness.

"You don't have to pretend, babe,” she shouted over more cheering. “I know this isn't your type of music. And I can tell your social battery is at zero.”

Ethan allowed a chuckle, which was lost in the cacophony of their surroundings. Lilac loved to use the battery analogy for his tolerance in social situations. Her gauge was impeccably correct.

“We can go home.”

“Absolutely not,” he returned. “I'm perfectly content watching you have a good time with your friends.”

Lilac smiled, touched.

Without much more ado, she leaned up to kiss him. Her lips moved with abandon over his, no doubt intoxicated with the thrill of the music and the revelry in the air. She hummed, her tongue tracing his lower lip with so much fervor, he resented the fact that they weren't alone.

When she pulled back, her eyes were dark, glittering with intent. A wicked, simpering smile pulled at her kiss-stung lips. She raised herself on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear.

“I have a surprise for you,” she informed him.

The insinuation in that little growl of a voice made him hard.

“That so?”

“Mmm.”

With no additional explanation, tantalizing fingers reached into his pant pocket. For a manic moment, Ethan thought she was going to stroke him right there and then, while her friends were distracted with the concert. Instead, she pulled out his phone.

“I installed this earlier when you were showering,” she explained.

Ethan peered at the screen, utterly befuddled by the interface of an app he didn't recognize.

“What is it?”

“A remote control of sorts.”

“And what does it control?”

Long lashes fluttered above dark eyes as she leaned in to whisper. Even above the music, he caught every detail of the toy she currently wore under her devilish skirt. Ethan watched, helpless and hard as a rock, as she directed his thumb over the screen of his phone. She made him press a button that definitely did something because her eyes lit up, her teeth biting down on her lip.

“You're in control,” she whispered rather breathlessly.

She sauntered away, swaying her hips. It was just as well because Ethan lost all capacity to articulate words. When he came to his senses, he glanced down at his phone. This was, without a doubt, the sexist thing Lilac had ever had him try.

The music picked up, a tantalizing beat that inspired Lilac's body to move gracefully. Her movements slowed, her body inviting his admiration, her green eyes locked on his. The negative space that separated them pulsed with the urgency of holding her in his arms.

“You're in control,” she mouthed, her hand sliding down the supple curves of her body as she danced.

The front of his pants strained painfully as his cock hardened even more. Eyes locked on hers, he pressed the screen of his phone. Instantly, her lips parted, a silent sigh leaving her.

It didn't take a long time for Ethan to figure out the controls. Within minutes, he realized he could control the speed and intensity. His thumb lazily traced slow circles on the screen, taking great care to slowly tease her.

Lilac, meanwhile, stood apart from her distracted friends. She was no longer dancing, her body struggling to remain calm and discreet against the vibrations. She bit her lower lip, cheeks flushed as she took the pleasure he gave her.

Ethan grit his teeth, fighting every muscle to stop himself from moving closer to her.

“We need more drinks!” one of her friends shouted over the music.

Ethan stopped altogether as everyone's attention moved away from the stage.

“This song is not my favorite so I can go get them,” someone else said. “What do you guys want?”

“I'll go. I need to see what tequila they have,” Varma said.

“Yeah, I want to see if they have Sex on the Beach.”

“Damn, Trinh. You're feeling bad tonight, huh?”

“Hell yeah!”

“So we're all going?”

“Field trip!”

“Ethan and I will wait here,” Lilac said, throwing him a heated, playful look.

Varma rolled her eyes. “Have fun making out.”

The group was a chorus of laughter as they exited the suite but Ethan didn't care. His eyes were locked on Lilac. She smirked from across the suite, eyes dark.

“Are you going to finish me off, Ramsey?” she challenged.

That demolished the last of his restraint. 

In a few quick strides, he crossed the room, their arms and lips locking like magnets. Lilac hummed against his mouth, her tight little body rubbing against his. She was desperate and needy, her hands grazing the front of his shirt.

“Turn around,” he commanded darkly.

Thrilled, she obeyed. Her ass pressed against his erection, making him grunt.

“You look so beautiful tonight,” he whispered in her ear. One of his hands moved up her thigh, the other pressed on the screen of his phone. Lilac moaned almost immediately. “The way you move when you dance drives me crazy.”

He raised the speed.

“For you. It’s all for you-- fuck.” The last word was a broken cry as she threw her head back against his shoulder.

“You look even better when I pleasure you.”

“Mmm.”

“When I make you moan my name.”

“Ethan!”

“That’s right, Rookie. Do you like that?”

“Yes,” she moaned, pressing her ass against his clothed cock. “Just like that, baby.”

Ethan's free hand found its way under her top, fondling her breasts, teasing her pointed nipple.

“Cum for me, Lilac,” he murmured against her neck. “Let go.”

With a loud cry that drowned in the music, Lilac obeyed. Her body rocked with the spasms of her pleasure, stars exploding behind her close lids. The intoxicating power of his influence almost knocked her off balance, but Ethan's strong arms held her still. He pressed soothing kisses against her throat until she rode off her orgasm.

“Are you okay?” he asked when she finally stilled.

“Yes but fuck,” she managed, completely breathless. She leaned her body against his for support, her glossy hair falling in curtains between them. “That was…”

Ethan chuckled.

“This might be my favorite new thing.”

Lilac turned in his arms, facing him with a smile. “Already getting ideas about where else to use it?”

“Many.”

Note: This new toy might or might not make a reappearance in future fics :)

Thank you for reading! 

[choicesficwriterscreations]

CFWC Naughty & Nice

CFWC is hosting Naughty & Nice!

Prompt List

Event Dates: Sunday, October 2 - Saturday, October 29, 2022

To participate, simply submit a newly created Choices fanfic based on one of the Naugty & Nice prompts.

You must mention @choicesficwriterscreations and use the tag #cfwc naughty & nice.

All participants who meet eligibility requirements (see below) will be entered into a raffle where one lucky winner will receive:

A fanart commission from #/artbyaiana (IG) One winner will be selected on Wednesday, November 2, 2022 Each creator will have a chance to have up to three entries

For rules and prize eligibility, please see below the break. Happy writing!

Rules:

You must use one of the Naughty & Nice prompts and mention the prompt you are using.

You only need to use one prompt from any of the 4 lists.  But if you wish to combine them, you can. 

Your fic can be on any Choices story or a combination of Choices stories.

You must mention @choicesficwriterscreations on your post, and you must use the tag #cfwc naughty & nice.

If your fic is NSFW, it must be labeled appropriately.

Fics must be submitted during the event dates of Sunday, October 2, and Saturday, October 29. Early/late entries will be posted but will not be eligible for a chance in the raffle.

Each eligible participant can get up to 3 chances to win: 1) You will receive 1 entry per fic for up to three fics in the 4 week period. 2) You can only earn one entry per week (Sunday through Saturday) 3) To receive more than 1 chance, you will need fics in multiple weeks. If you submit 2 different fics during 2 different weeks, you'll have 2 chances. If you have 3 different fics entered during 3 different weeks, you'll have 3 chances.

Prize Eligibility:

A raffle for a fanart commission by @/artbyainna on IG will be held on Sunday, October 30, 2022. To be in the raffle, you must:

Submit a fic that meets the rules of the contest, including using proper tags

You must be following @choicesficwriterscreations before the date you submit your fic

You must follow all other rules set forth above

While everyone is encouraged to write for this event, the following are not eligible to win the prize:

CFWC Moderators or Administrators

Writers who are not following CFWC

Anyone who has won another prize from CFWC during the past 6-months

If you have any questions about this event, please contact @lucy268-mod

[potionsprefect]

Blankets and Fire

Fall has arrived

For @choicesmonthlychallenge Picktober “blanket” and “fireplace” and @choicesficwriterscreations​ naughty and nice event

“Here, let’s share a blanket.” Victoria walked into the living room.

“A blanket? Or the hundreds you've bought?”

“Don’t act like you hate it. It adds warmth.” Victoria rolled her eyes.

“I can think of other ways we can get warm.” Ethan winked.

“Hilarious. For now, I want a cuddle.” Victoria snuggled next to him.

When Victoria put it like that, Ethan wasn't going to argue with her.

What’s that you see? A certain surgeon falling for someone? You would be correct 😉

Tagging in reblog

[lem-20]

Caught

Summary: Ethan and Cecilia slip off to the supply closet for some special alone time...

Book/Pairing: Open Heart/Ethan Ramsey x f!mc (Cecilia Gibson)

Category/Rating: Fluffy smut/Explicit 🔞

Word Count: 2.6k

Prompts: @choicesficwriterscreations Naughty & Nice event: Naughty - Public Venue @choicesmonthlychallenge Picktober event: Kinktober - Against a wall

A/N: This fic is finally finished more than a year after I started writing it! Originally inspired by an anon reply to a fic wish game (thanks anon 😘), this sat 50% complete for a very long time. I've loved getting back into it and I hope you enjoy the filth 🙊 (obviously it's sandwiched between fluff because I can never resist.)

Cecilia stands outside Ethan's office watching him through the window. He has the phone pressed to his ear, his eyes closed as he rubs his forehead. Whatever the subject of the conversation is it looks stressful and she can't help but feel sad for him.

This isn't what he really wants—being chief—not that he would admit it, not even to her. But she knows him well enough by now to know that he misses the daily interaction with patients and the problem solving that came with the job as head of diagnostics.

The way his face lights up as she talks about her day and the cases she's been working on show her that he'd much rather be back in that role.

The chief job brought lots of stress and worries with it, which were beginning to show in the increasing dark circles under his eyes and the deepening of the creases on his forehead.

He tells her that he's glad to be chief and to have more control over big decisions, but she's certain he's trying to convince himself more than he is her.

She wishes she could do more to help him avoid the stress, but the stubbornness of that man makes it difficult, so instead she resorts to trying to take his mind off of it whenever she can and today she has a proposition she's sure will help him get through the rest of the day.

Ethan looks up and spots her, the traces of a smile creep over his handsome features as he beckons for her to come in.

He's putting the phone down as she enters and she walks towards him.

"To what do I owe this pleasure?" he asks, his smile growing bigger and some of the signs of stress dissipating.

She leans down placing a gentle kiss on his lips before perching herself on the edge of his desk.

"I just wanted to see you and to cheer you up a little."

"Do I look like I need cheering up?" he asks, brows raised.

"Yes," she teases.

"Well good job you're very good at it then," he replies taking her hand in his and rubbing the back of it with his thumb.

"I did actually have another reason for my visit today. I have a question for you."

"You do?"

She nods. "Do you know what today is?"

His brow furrows as he thinks, then he shakes his head.

"It's an anniversary of sorts," she smiles. "If I said it involved me pressed against the window of your apartment, would that ring any bells?"

He gives a little smirk "I'm afraid you'd have to be a bit more specific."

"You make a good point," she giggles. "Okay then, how about if I said it's been three years?"

His face breaks into a smile, confident that he now knows the answer. "Three years since we first slept together."

"Bingo," she replies.

"You remember the date?" He asks, placing his hand on her knee and giving a gentle squeeze.

"Of course. I know it wasn't the perfect first time, but getting to finally have you after all those months of waiting..." she leans forward and brushes her hand slowly down his cheek, "that's something I'll never forget."

"It was a pretty incredible night." He puts his hand on the side of her face and kisses her.

"It was, it was amazing. I was thinking that tonight, maybe we could..." she places her hand on his chest and slips a couple of fingers between his buttons, "...recreate it?

He let's out a moan, slumping back in his chair.

"I'd love nothing more, but I have to stay late tonight."

"Anything I could help with?" she asks plopping herself onto his lap.

"No. It's just boring chief stuff and to be honest knowing the things we'd be doing if we weren't here would make it far too difficult for me to be around you."

"That's a real shame," she responds dragging her hand up his thigh until she reaches his groin, causing him to let out a little gasp. "Maybe tomorrow then?"

She moves her hand between his legs, cupping him through his pants and giving a gentle squeeze.

"Are you trying to turn me on?" he asks.

She leans in, pressing her lips to his ear. "Always."

"Well it's not fair if I can't do anything about it." His fingers glide up the inside of her leg and under her skirt, skimming across the material of her underwear before he retracts them.

Her mouth falls open as she's left with an instant ache between her legs.

"See what I mean," he smiles.

Shit, she didn't think that one through and now she's certain she won't be able to wait until tomorrow to have him.

"Well if you're not busy now you could help me get some stuff from the fourth floor supply closet?"

Her raises his eyebrows at her.

"But of course if you're busy I'll just..." she puts her hand on her own thigh, fiddling with the hem of her skirt "...do it myself."

He sucks in a shuddery breath then turns away, clearing his throat trying hard to keep his composure, but she knows his attempt is futile. He's fallen for her hook line and sinker, in more ways than one, but right now she knows he's going to need to do something about the growing bulge in his pants—the one that's pressing against her leg.

He lets out a sigh. "You will never cease to be a bad influence on me."

"A bad influence? Yet it takes so little to convince you," she giggles.

But he doesnt even smile in response,  he just looks at her with an intensity she can almost feel cutting into her.

"I'll meet you there in five minutes."

There's nothing she can do to prevent the huge smile that's spreading across her face as a rush of excitement courses through her. She jumps up from his lap and heads for the door.

She leaves the office, rushing through the corridors as she makes her way to their agreed meeting point, keeping her head down, hoping that no one stops her and praying she doesn't get a page.

She enters the supply closet, closing the door behind her. Her heart pounds in her chest as she waits eagerly for Ethan to join her.

She looks at her watch, she's got a meeting in the diagnostics office in 20 minutes and being late is not something she's known for, so to hurry things along she drops her underwear to her ankles before hooking them over the edge of a shelf. Not only will it save time, but she's certain Ethan will appreciate the surprise.

It's not long until Ethan joins her and his pace is as eager as hers. Without uttering a word he pulls her into his arms and their lips crash together.

There isn't time, or the need to remove all of their clothes so her hands head straight for the button of his pants. She undoes them quickly and lets them drop, forming a puddle around his ankles. She follows with his underwear, allowing his long hard length to bounce free.

Her hand wraps around him, pumping him once, twice and he lets out a moan.

He reaches for the hem of her skirt as she continues to work him and hitches it up high around her waist. His eyes remain locked on hers as his hand touches between her legs, eyebrows raising when he finds that her underwear has already been removed.

"I wanted to save some time," she states.

He gives a small smirk before his lips are back on hers. His fingers slide between her legs collecting the wet that has already gathered there and spreads it around her entrance and gently over her clit.

Now it's her time to let out a moan.

Her breaths are already getting fast and heavy as his fingers trace over her in precise circles, but then he stops abruptly and she almost lets out a whimper at the loss of the stimulation. She doesn't have time to complain though as he's quick to drop to his knees, replacing his fingers with his skilled tongue.

He can never resist having a taste of her, even in their most rushed sessions and she's certainly not complaining. She couldn't possibly when it feels so fucking good, especially when he slides in a long finger, then another.

She has to lean against the wall as she stands there, eyes closed, one leg hooked over his shoulder, her hips rocking as she fucks his face and his fingers simultaneously.

The combination of his hot tongue lapping at her and his plunging fingers are pure ecstasy. He's so good at it that it only takes a couple of minutes before she's pulsing against his mouth, her moans perhaps a little louder than they should be considering their location.

He continues to lick and suck as he sees her through to the end of her orgasm, her fingers gripping onto his hair as she presses herself hard against his mouth one last time.

Her body is still trembling as Ethan stands and hoists her into his arms. She wraps her legs tightly around him as he presses her back against the wall and she helps to guide him in.

Every throbbing inch of him slides in with ease thanks to how wet she now is and they both moan in unison as they relish in the intimate connection. After a moment of savouring the feeling their movements begin.

It's a position mainly reserved for their quickies but it's one of her favourites, allowing him to reach deep inside her as she bounces up and down furiously on his long thick cock.

"Harder," she pants and he places a hand on the wall allowing him more leverage to increase the force of his thrusts.

Her nails dig into his back as her grip tightens. "Oh my God Ethan."

She can feel the pleasure building as she gets close to her second orgasm, especially when Ethan moves a hand between her legs and starts to rub at her swollen clit.

But then they hear a creak and both instinctively turn their heads towards the source.

In the doorway stands someone familiar to her, one of the interns—Dr. Stevens—his mouth open wide in shock.

"Oh shit I'm so sorry," he mumbles as he hastily reverses back out of the room, closing the door as he goes.

Cecilia turns back to Ethan, immediately breaking into a fit of awkward laughter, "Oh my God, I can't believe that just happened."

"Damn interns," Ethan groans.

"I think you'll find we're the ones misusing the room Ethan," Cecilia states with an amused smile. "It sure is a mood killer though." She shifts to detach from him, but his grip on her thighs remains.

"I wouldn't say it had killed it," and he gives a gentle thrust to show her that he is still very much up for continuing.

She raises her eyebrows at him with a giggle, "and again I question you calling me the bad influence?"

He smiles back at her. "We can stop if you'd prefer?" he says, then follows by placing a trail of warm kisses from her collar bone up to behind her ear.

The shivers they send down her spine are enough to push the embarrassment right to the back of her mind.

"No, I want to finish. I was so close," she whispers, her head dizzy with her need for him.

"So was I," he replies as he resumes his gentle thrusting. "I want to come in you Cecilia."

His words are so hot and she's certain he knows the effect they'd have on her. Her mind is completely clouded by her intense desire to continue and nothing will stop her, not even worries of Dr. Stevens broadcasting his discovery or someone else walking in on them. Nothing else exists or matters in this moment.

She starts to roll her hips and clenches tightly around him, wanting to feel every inch of his rock hard cock rubbing her on the inside—in all the right places. He feels amazing.

Their eagerness to finish soon has them increasing their speed and Ethan thrusts into her over and over again as she feels that build up returning.

"Ethan..."

"I've got you Cecilia," he pants and she comes hard, moaning into his ear.

The sounds of her pleasure allows him to get his wish only moments later and he lets out a heavy breath as he fills her. 

She tastes herself on him as their lips come together in a desperate kiss, during which he lowers her legs to the floor allowing him to place his hands on either side of her face.

"I think it's safe to say that you succeeded in cheering me up," he states after their lips part. "Thank you."

She smiles broadly at him. "I should be thanking you for the two amazing orgasms you just gave me."

"Glad I could be of service," he smirks.

They both redress their bottom halves, then Cecilia looks towards the door. "I suppose we'd better go back out there now. Do you think it's safe to leave at the same time?"

Ethan nods. "If anyone says anything I'll tell them I was helping you to get something you really needed."

"Well it's not a lie," she chuckles, "but I'm not holding anything."

He shrugs. "I couldn't find it."

"Oh, but you did. You always do."

He bites back a smile and gives her quick kiss before opening the door.

They step out into the corridor and find Dr. Stevens leaning against the wall. He turns a deep shade of red as he spots them.

Ethan glares at him. "You waited?"

"I'm sorry chief, I really need to get those supplies."

Cecilia struggles to hold back a laugh as she practically feels the annoyance radiating off of Ethan.

"I did stop someone else walking in though."

"What did you say?" Ethan snaps.

"Dont worry I didn't tell them. I said someone was crying in there."

Ethan's eyes scan the corridor, making sure that no one is within earshot. "Mention this to no one."

"Of course chief, I wouldn't dare."

"Well go on then," Ethan barks gesturing towards the supply closet door.

Dr. Stevens instantly rushes in, shutting the door behind him.

"Do you get some sort of sick thrill out of intimidating people?" Cecilia teases.

"I wouldn't call it a thrill, but it definitely comes in handy in situations such as this. The last thing I want is for us to become the subject of the interns salacious gossip."

"You're pretty naive if you think he won't say anything. I bet half the hospital will have heard by the end of the day."

"Well maybe I should go in there and have another word with him." He steps towards the door.

Cecilia grabs his arm. "Just leave it Ethan. People gossip about us all the time."

"No they don't. I never hear anyone talking about us," he responds.

"That's because they make sure it doesn't get back to you."

"It sounds like they need to get some new hobbies then," he retorts.

"Well we hardly help the situation do we?" she grins. "All the things we get up to."

"Maybe we should stop doing it then," he suggests, but the softening of his expression tells her he doesn't mean it.

"You couldn't even if you wanted to," she smiles.

"True. I can never resist you." He takes her hand in his and gives it a squeeze. "Are we still on for tomorrow night?" he asks.

"Of course," she replies. "This was just the warm up act."

*****

Thank you for reading ❤️

[jerzwriter]

Reminiscing

Ainna absolutely strikes again! It was my first WTD commission and her first time drawing Eli. I think we were equally as excited! I am elated with the results. She is magic!

I wrote a little fic below to honor this brilliance - an older Eli & Zoe reminiscing about this... their very first kiss. 💕

Book:                   Wake the Dead

Pairing:                Eli Sipes x F!MC (Zoe Rivera)

Rating:                 Teen

Category:            Fluff

Summary:           Fifteen years after the events in the book,Eli and Zoe reminisce about the first time they kissed on the old Ferris wheel, then proceed to make some new memories too.

Words:                 1019

A/N:                     Once again, Ainna ( @/artbyainna) has absolutely blown my mind! Seriously, I don’t know how she one-ups herself over, and over, and over again! I was literally speechless, and that never happens! She is a blessing, and how fortunate we are that she shares her gift with us! This scene takes place at Olympus fifteen years after the events in the book, so Zoe is around forty, and Eli around forty-three.  Mind you – that’s not old! But the thought of them growing old together makes me smile.  The world is still dangerous, but improvements have been made, and the younger generation faces a slightly less difficult existence than they once did.

    @choicesmonthlychallenge – Flufftober – forehead kisses @choicesficwriterscreations – N & N – Amusement Park/Fair

CHARACTERS BELONG TO PIXELBERRY STUDIOS.

The sound of her laughter was something that never grew old. His life may have been filled with an inordinate amount of tragedy and sadness, but few their age escaped that fate. Still, their blessings had been plentiful, and after all these years, he still counted Zoe’s laugh as one of the greatest of all. 

He reclined in his chair with a wistful smile. He could hear her approaching, happy, breathless, creating a melody that filled birds with envy. The chorus of tiny giggles that accompanied her told him she was probably running in his direction, and he anxiously awaited her arrival.

Moments later, her heavy footsteps hitting the wooden deck echoed through the silence. Winded, she collapsed into the chair beside him. The joyful playfulness that was her hallmark, even during the darkest times, was now on beautiful display. Stoic as ever, she remained the one person who could always break him free.

“You ok, there?” He asked with a half-smile.

“Better than ok,” she gasped, trying to catch her breath. “But, sadly, I’m not as young as I used to be. I swear those little ones will accomplish what the zombies have failed to one day.”

“Stop it!” he hushed. “You’re plenty young, and you could give those kids a run for their money.”

“Perhaps,” she shrugged, snuggling next to him. “But I’ll gladly let them tire each other out as I get to spend some quiet time with you.”

“Hmmm…” he hummed, pulling her closer and kissing her forehead. “I’m not going to complain about that.”

“Well, there was a time….” She teased.

“A very, very long time ago.”

“Which is why I’m right when I say I’m not as young as I used to be!”

He playfully pushed the palm of his hand against her face as she laughed heartily. She loved when she proved she was right.

“You’re insufferable,” he spoke. “I’ve said it from the start.”

“Oh! You’re just annoyed because Shannon insists on doing a study to figure out how I bring out the child in you. She swears it could be a cure for grumpiness worldwide.”

He looked at her, adoringly staring at him from under his shoulder, and shook his head with a smirk.

“Gotta admit, you did brighten my life up… reluctantly.”

“Reluctantly on your part, mister! Never mine. You should thank me every day, Eli Sipes. I really was your savior.”

“And I’m still never gonna live that down, am I?”

“Hell, no!” she laughed as they settled into a comfortable silence.

“So much has changed since then,” he sighed.

“Mmm,” she mumbled, taking his hand, “Yet so much has remained the same.”

“Like what?”

“Like, I’m still crazy about you.”

“I think you’re just crazy,” he chuckled.

“You’re just upset that I knew first. You should have surrendered sooner, Eli. Think about all the time we missed out on.”

“All the… what… fifteen days?”

“Hey, when we’ve had moments where we didn’t know if the other would make it five minutes more… what would we have given for another fifteen days during those times?”

“You’re right there,” he agreed.

“Again, I usually am.”

“Again, you’re insufferable.”

A few minutes later, Eli jumped up from his seat and offered his hand.

“Come, I want to take you on a date.”

“A date?”

“Yeah, let’s walk to the Ferris wheel.”

“Ah! You want to reenact our first makeout session. OK, I’m down.”

Shaking his head in amusement, he let out a gentle sigh.

“I just wanted to enjoy the ride with you.”

“Mmm-hmm.  Really, when I have so much more to offer?” She winked.

“You sure do! And who told you that?”

He put his arm around her as they walked to the other end of the compound. They decided to have the Ferris wheel erected ten years ago now. Eli pitched the idea as a double win, something to entertain the colonists and keep up morale, but it would also serve as a lookout location.    

“Yeah, more like a makeout location,” Troy snickered during that meeting. While Zoe tittered at the comment, Eli merely glared.

“I love that you thought to build this here,” Zoe smiled as she slipped into the cart. “It always brings back one of my very best memories.”

“That shooting lesson wasn’t all that great,” he smiled.

“You know exactly what I mean!”

He slid in next to her, taking her hand. 

“This cab isn’t as rickety as the original.”

“No, which is why it’s, ahem, handled a lot more from us through the years.”

“Well, it’s the middle of the day now, Zoe. We can’t do that.” He laughed.

“No… but we could reenact that first day. We were fairly tame, thanks to you.”

“I don’t remember it at all,” he joked. “So, how can I be expected to reenact?”

“Mmm, you’re full of shit,” she smiled as she snuggled into his side.

They sat back and closed their eyes, remembering that day. Younger versions of themselves wrestled with the feelings stirring inside for each other. Zoe had always been the braver of the two; Eli would readily admit that. For he had always been fearless in battle, but she was brave in battle and with love. Because of her, he realized that the latter was the only thing that made the former worthwhile.

“I remember,” he said softly as the wind pelted their faces. “The picture in clear my mind, and while I don’t have my bow up here today, I think we can still manage the rest.”

“You don’t need permission to kiss me, Eli,” she purred. “Heaven knows I didn’t ask for it on that day.”

“Thank God,” he said, taking her face in his hands, “I would have probably said no.”

“And do you think I would have given up?”

Eli let out a little snort, the smile on his face making him look as young as he was that day.

“Never in a million years.”

“You’re right. I’d never give up on us.”

“And since I’ve come to my senses, neither would I.”

“Now, where is my kiss?

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